总目录

葛底斯堡演说

论人类

慰妻书

论人类认识之盲点

论内心生活

乌托邦

有效工作与无效劳动

西西弗斯神话

记忆之灯

伦敦夜行记

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

葛底斯堡演说：英汉双语／（英）林肯著；刘晓峰译．—北京：中译出版社，2015.7

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978–7–5001–4181–5

Ⅰ．①葛…　Ⅱ．①林…　②刘…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②演讲—英国—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4:I

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2015）第146368号

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Office: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England

www.penguin.com

Taken from The Portable Abraham Lincoln, published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 1992, 2009

This selection published in Penguin Books 2009

All rights reserved

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版　　次／2015年7月第一版

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ISBN 978–7–5001–4181–5　定价：20.00元

“企鹅”及相关标识是企鹅图书有限公司已经注册或尚未注册的商标。

未经允许，不得擅用。

中译出版社与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese

Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

分册总目录

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

葛底斯堡演说——中文

葛底斯堡演说——英文

返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

葛底斯堡演说

（英汉双语）

[美]亚伯拉罕·林肯　著

刘晓峰　译

中国出版集团

中译出版社

译者导读

亚伯拉罕·林肯（Abraham Lincoln, 1809-1965）,美国杰出的政治家、思想家，第16任美国总统。

1861年4月，林肯任总统期间，美国爆发内战，史称南北战争。林肯坚决反对国家分裂。他废除了叛乱各州的奴隶制度，颁布了《宅地法》、《解放黑人奴隶宣言》。1865年4月，林肯为首的联邦政府获得南北战争的胜利，统一了全国。内战结束后不久，1865年4月14日晚，林肯在华盛顿福特剧院遇刺身亡。

林肯向来反对奴隶制，反对国家分裂，维护美利坚联邦不分人种、人人生而平等的权利。在其政治生涯中，林肯围绕这些主题发表了一系列著名演说，这些不朽的篇章永远闪耀着智慧的火花，锻造着美利坚民族团结的基石。本书选译了其中最有代表性的十篇。

第一篇“皮奥里亚演说”，发表于1854年10月16日的伊利诺州皮奥里亚市。

这是林肯与其宿敌、赞成奴隶制的民主党党魁道格拉斯议员之间展开的辩论。该辩论由1854年5月22日众议院通过的《堪萨斯-内布拉斯加法案》引起，主题是《密苏里妥协案》的废除和其恢复的合理性，本质上仍旧是奴隶制存废问题。

第二篇“开裂的房子演说”，发表于1858年6月16日的伊利诺伊州斯普林菲尔德。林肯在演说中把南北两种政治经济制度并存的格局比喻为“一幢裂开的房子”，提出了“一所开裂的房子是支撑不下去的”的易懂而喻义深刻的论断。

第三篇“库珀学院演说”，1860年2月27日发表于纽约市库珀学院。焦点是针对道格拉斯为首的民主党对共和党就《宪法》的理解、奴隶解放、联邦和平与团结等问题的指摘，林肯一一进行了批驳。

第四篇“告别演说”，1861年2月11日发表于伊利诺伊州斯普林菲尔德。在这篇简短的告别词里，可以读出林肯忧郁而坚韧的个性，读出林肯为美利坚民族忧戚的情怀，也能读出林肯与美利坚普通民众之间浓浓的鱼水情谊。

第五篇“第一次就职演说”，发表于1861年3月4日。当时美国南北双方矛盾激化，内战阴云笼罩着整个民族。林肯最后时刻仍在为团结与和平奔走呼号，呼吁人民遵守《宪法》，保持克制。林肯对最终的胜利充满信心：“记忆中的神秘琴弦，从每一个战场，每一个爱国志士的坟茔拉开，一直延伸到整个这片辽阔土地上的每一颗跳动的心和每一个家庭，它终有一天会再次被我们更善良的本性所拨动，必将再次奏出联邦合唱曲”。

第六篇“葛底斯堡演说”，1863年11月19日发表于宾夕法尼亚葛底斯堡阵亡将士公墓奠献仪式上。林肯在演说中以诗一般的语言对为统一事业献身的烈士表达了最崇高的敬意与哀悼，并以异常冷静清醒的态度明确了美利坚人民奋斗的方向：“我们要使这个国家在上帝福佑下得到自由的新生；我们还要使这个民有、民治、民享的政府在地球上永世长存。”这篇简短的演说对美利坚民族之魂的凝聚起着不可估量的作用，因而被列为本演说集的书名。

第七篇“一八六四年对《小夜曲》的答词”，1864年11月10日发表于华盛顿。林肯在答词中充分肯定了一个民有的政府，即使在全面的内战中也能举行国家大选，肯定了经过战争洗礼的美利坚民族更加团结、更为强大。

第八篇“第二次就职演说”，发表于1865年3月4日。林肯在演说中重申了南北双方的分歧之所在，表达了获取战争最后胜利的坚强决心。

第九篇“一八六五年对《小夜曲》的答词”，1865年4月10号发表于华盛顿特区。答词中林肯用轻松、幽默的语言庆祝他们获得的胜利，展现了他自然的亲民情怀。

第十篇“林肯的最后公开演说”，1865年4月11日发表于华盛顿特区。演说主要内容是感恩取得胜利的军队，计划南方重建，还明确了解决南部问题的指导方针。三天后，林肯便遇刺与世长辞。

林肯是美国历史上最伟大的领袖之一，他在美利坚民族面临分崩离析的最危难时刻挺身而出，高瞻远瞩，力挽狂澜。以其沉着、坚韧、睿智的人格魅力乃至珍贵的生命谱写了美国历史最壮丽辉煌的篇章。他的演说娓娓道来，逻辑严密。用词质朴精当却又不失生动，深入浅出且充满智慧和幽默。译者翻译时力求再现这些语言特色，传达其忧郁个性中善于思考、情感细腻、不屈不挠、进取达观的品质，重现其同情弱者，尊重生命，热爱和平和国家统一，渴望人民安居乐业的伟大情怀。然而，正如钱钟书所言：一国文字和另一国文字之间必然有距离，译者的理解和文风跟原作品的内容和形式之间也不会没有距离，而且译者的体会和他自己的表达能力之间还时常有距离……因此，译者虽竭尽全力，必难尽传林肯伟大之智慧，疏漏之处望广大读者批评指正。

目录

译者导读

在伊利诺伊州皮奥里亚市关于堪萨斯-内布拉斯加法案发表的演说

在伊利诺伊州斯普林菲尔德发表的“开裂的房子”的演说

在纽约市库珀学院的演说

在伊利诺伊州斯普林菲尔德的告别演说

第一次就职演说

宾夕法尼亚的葛底斯堡演说

在华盛顿特区对《小夜曲》的答词

第二次就职演说

在华盛顿特区对《小夜曲》的答词

林肯的最后一次公开演说

返回分册总目录

在伊利诺伊州皮奥里亚市关于

堪萨斯-内布拉斯加法案发表的演说

1854年10月16日

林肯先生演说

10月16日星期一，道格拉斯议员如约在皮奥里亚对一大群听众作了场演说。演讲结束，听众报以6次热烈的欢呼；在场的乐队也奏起了欢快的乐曲。接着，人群高喊林肯入场，正如道格拉斯所宣布的那样，林肯是应约而来就他的演说做出回应的。于是林肯上了台，说道：

“倘若能与大家约定6点半或7点在此见面，我这会儿就不讲。现在5点刚过几分，道格拉斯议员已经讲了3个多钟头，如果大家现在就要开始，那我就希望你们听完。我的发言大概也要这么长时间，所以要拖到晚上8点多。现在，所有能待到这个时间的人，先去吃饭，7点回来，再待上一两个小时就够了。道格拉斯法官已告知大家，他将要用一个小时的时间答复我的发言。你们会觉得奇怪，为什么我会同意给他这样能干且有名望的人占这个便利。其实，我这样做尽管不愿意，但也不是完全没有私心的。因为我觉得一旦他的话先说光，大家都知道了，你们民主党人就会离去，不再愿意听我讲了。可是如果让他收场，我就有把握你们会愿意待下去，开心地看他如何扒我的皮。”

听众对此安排表示了赞成，于是休会到下午7点。时间一到大家就再次集合，于是林肯开始演讲，内容大体如下：

《密苏里妥协案》的废除和其恢复的合理性，将是我讲话的主题。

因为指望就这个主题发表我的看法，所以我的讲话倒并不专门算作是对道格拉斯法官的回应。不过，在我的讲话里，他的主要观点会出现的，而且我也会尽可能地给予尊重。

我还想进一步说明，在此我无意质疑任何人的爱国热情，不想攻击任何群体、任何个人的动机，并且限定自己只谈这个问题本身的价值。

我还希望我的所有立场都是国家性的，而且，在我所有的立场中，无论别人已经认为或可能认为哪个是狭隘的、地方性的，或者对联邦来说是有害的，我都希望能给出解释。而且至少对你们中的一些人来说，这些解释足以说明我为何有不同的看法。

还有，因为这个主题其实就是国内奴隶制这个大问题的重要部分，所以在讲话中我特别注意区分和维持这个现存制度和其扩展版之间的不同，区别之大、之明显，没有哪个诚实的人会误解我的意思；也没有哪个不诚实的人能歪曲我的意思。

为了弄清《密苏里妥协案》，或许有必要简述先前类似的一些问题。当我们获得独立时，我们并没拥有也没有要求这个妥协案在国家的哪些地方具有效力。的确，严格说来，当时的联邦根本没有土地。各州拥有自己境内的土地。也有几个州在自己严格的州界之外拥有领地，比如弗吉尼亚就拥有西北部的整个区域，后来俄亥俄的主要部分、整个印第安纳、整个伊利诺伊、整个密歇根和整个威斯康辛都在这个区域建立起来。弗吉尼亚还拥有（或许当时是在其界内）后来建立了肯塔基州的那块土地。北卡罗来纳拥有现在是田纳西州的土地。南卡罗来纳和佐治亚州分别拥有现在是密西西比和阿拉巴马的土地。俄亥俄州还有的一小块土地当时为康涅迪克拥有，同样他们现在就是利用这块土地送吉丁斯进了国会，让奶酪业在那里独占鳌头。所有这些区域连同各州本身，构成了当时联邦行使所有管辖权的全部土地。当时是《联邦条例》，几年后为宪法所取代，于是，把这些区域让与联邦政府的问题随即出现了。杰斐逊先生，作为《独立宣言》的缔造者和革命的主要行动者，然后是国会的一名代表，再往后连任两届美国总统，过去是、现在是、或许将来仍然是我国历史上最杰出的政治家，一个土生土长的弗吉尼亚人，还是个奴隶主。就是他，利用了那个机会，想出了办法防止奴隶制蔓延到西北部地区。他还说服了弗吉尼亚州议会采纳他的建议，并以禁止在该区域实行奴隶制为条件把该区域让与联邦政府。联邦政府接受了该转让及其附加条件，并在针对这块土地的管辖所颁布的第一号法令（当时国会的法案就是这么称呼的）中规定：该区域永远禁止实行奴隶制，这就是人们经常说起的《1787年法令》。从那时起到1848年这区域的最后一块土地作为威斯康辛州加入了联邦为止，61年间所有各方都规规矩矩地照章办事。这块土地现在就是杰弗逊先生所筹谋预见的那样——是成千上万的自由者、白人和富人的快乐家园，其间没有一个奴隶。

于是，通过《独立宣言》缔造者的努力，在新的准州禁止推行奴隶制的政策诞生了。于是，早在宪法制定前，在革命的新鲜而自由的空气中，弗吉尼亚州和国会把该项政策付诸了实施。于是，在共和国最辉煌的六十多个年头中，那项政策确实稳步朝着它那伟大而仁慈的目标迈进。而且，在那五个州中，500万自由进取的民众已使我们目睹了那项政策的丰硕成果。可现在，境况骤变。现在国会宣布情形绝不应该是这样子的，而且类似的事情绝不应该再次发生。神圣的自治权利被极大地破坏了！我们甚至发现，有些人有生以来一直在这项限定政策下呼吸生存，现在却唯恐限制他们把奴隶带入内布拉斯加的“神圣权利”，担心会被闷死。他们渴求的完美自由——使别人作奴隶的自由——杰斐逊先生从没想到过，他们的父辈从没想到过，而且一年前连他们自己也绝没有想到过。他们是多么的幸运啊！直到现在才认识到自己的大不幸！唉，对我们向来真心奉之为神圣的东西进行攻击时还要怀有敬意，是多么不容易啊！

让我们重温历史。1803年我们从法国手里购得了当时的路易斯安那，它包括现在的路易斯安那，阿肯色，密苏里，爱荷华，还包括明尼苏达和现在颇受争议的堪萨斯和内布拉斯加。奴隶制早已存在于奥尔良的法国人中间，而且，在一定程度上也存在于圣·路易斯。1812年路易斯安那以一个蓄奴州的身份加入了联邦，没有引起争议。1818或1819年，有迹象表明密苏里亦希望以同样的身份加入，却遭到了国会北方议员的抵制。于是第一次在全国范围内出现了奴隶制问题大风暴，持续了好几个月，双方争执不下。众议院坚定不移地主张在密苏里禁止实行奴隶制，而参议院毫不妥协地针锋相对，分离联邦的危险迫在眉睫。当时就连最有才干的社会活动家们都深感忧戚。最后双方终于达成妥协，就像所有的妥协一样，双方都作了些让步，于是便诞生了1820年3月6日的法案，明确密苏里可以作为蓄奴州加入联邦，但同时规定，在法国购得的所有其他部分，即北纬36度30分以北的所有土地，永久禁止实行奴隶制，这就是《密苏里妥协案》。在该线北部禁止蓄奴的进程中，使用的语言与《1787年法令》一样，对爱荷华、明尼苏达直接适用，还包括当今有争议的堪萨斯和内布拉斯加，而在该线以南是否保留奴隶制却在法案里只字没提。但是阿肯色是剩余的主要部分，且在该线以南，后来以蓄奴州身份加入联邦没引起严重争议。往后，该线以北的爱荷华以自由州身份加入联邦也没引起什么分歧。再往后，该线以北的明尼苏达获得了准州组织身份亦未受争议。德克萨斯大部分在该线以南，阿肯色以西，尽管最初是从法国购得，1819年在我们获得佛罗里达的条约中又交易给了西班牙，因此它就成为墨西哥的一部分了。墨西哥发生革命，脱离西班牙而独立，于是美国人就迅速地带着他们的奴隶在它的南部定居。不久他们就发动了反对墨西哥政府的革命，建立了自己的独立自治政府，制定了一部实行奴隶制的宪法，同我们蓄奴州的宪法极为相似。德克萨斯的另一快速举动就是进一步向西拓展了疆界，比1819年交易给西班牙时的疆界更向西推进了。于是德克萨斯纳入了美国版图，以蓄奴州的身份加入了联邦。那时的德克萨斯州北部基本没有定居点，且相当一部分土地位于密苏里线以北。在接纳它进入联邦的决议里，《密苏里妥协案》的限定效力明确延伸，越过德克州的版图直达其西部。这一切就发生在1845年，距今仅仅9年。

这就是《密苏里妥协案》的来龙去脉，自诞生直到1845年都一直受尊重。甚至是4年后的1849年，我们这位杰出的参议员在一次公开的演说中，还说过一段与此有关的话：

“《密苏里妥协案》付诸实施已近四分之一个世纪了，它已受到联邦各个党派和各个地区人民的普遍认可和赞许。它已经缓和了各个地区因为此备受争议的问题而产生的嫉妒与愤怒，赋予了整个国家以和谐与安定。它也赋予了亨利·克莱——它的杰出的捍卫者——‘伟大的调停者’这样一个骄傲的头衔，由于这个称号以及他的贡献，他的政界朋友们都不止一次呼吁民众团结起来，向他看齐。作为总统候选人，他表现出了应有的魄力和爱国精神，平定了罪恶卖国的骚乱，从而保全了联邦。他没有看到联邦有哪个地区哪个党哪个人曾经反对过克莱先生，反对他是《密苏里妥协案》的伟大捍卫者。倒是克莱先生的反对者们不遗余力地试图证明他不值得享有这一伟大爱国称号的独有荣誉，证明这个荣誉既属于他，也均等地属于其他人，是他们一道确保了《妥协案》的实施，还证明《妥协案》的源头来自于所有爱国民众的心里，是这些民众希冀维护我们伟大联邦的福祉并使之永存，这一源头如同合众国宪法一样，是这些民众以手足之情共同孕育而生，就是这些兄弟群力筹谋，永远消除将来有一天似乎会威胁联邦、分离联邦的唯一危险。那时所有舆论似乎都表明，《妥协案》在美国人民的心中已经神圣化了，没有哪只残忍的手胆敢粗暴地亵渎它了。”

我读这段话倒不是有意想使道格拉斯法官陷入自相矛盾的窘境。如果后来他认为他先前是说错了，那他作了更正也是无可厚非的。我在此旧事重提只是想说明，直到1849年各方对《密苏里妥协案》都还是寄予了厚望的。

但是，再往回推一点，就在1846年我们同墨西哥开战的那个时间点上，正当国会准备休会，波尔克总统要求国会给他拨款200万由他全权支配，如有可能，用于在休会期间与墨西哥商谈和平条约，以换取它的部分土地。为此众议院提出了一个议案，正在顺利进行的当儿，来自宾夕法尼亚一位名叫大卫·韦慕特的民主党人士提出了一条修正案：“除非由此获得的任何土地上永不实行奴隶制。”

这就是久负盛名的《韦慕特但书》。它激起了很大的波澜，但是很有生命力，被纳入了议案，又连同议案在众议院获得通过。然而参议院对其未置可否就休会了，因而拨款和但书暂时都落了空。和墨西哥的战争仍在继续，在接下去那届会议上，总统又重新提出拨款请求，而且把数额提高到300万美元。于是但书又被提出，国会又一次未置可否而休会，战争仍然继续着。1847年12月，新的国会成立，我是那届国会的众议院议员。《韦慕特但书》或其原则不断被变着法儿提了出来，我可以大胆地说，在短短的任期内，我至少投了不下40次赞成票。可是由于上议院的阻挠，但书始终都没有成为法令。1848年春，同墨西哥和平协议签订了，通过协议我们获得了它的一些土地，建立了现在的新墨西哥、犹他两个准州和加利福尼亚州。这个条约其实就使得《韦慕特但书》作废了，因为该但书最初只是获得这些土地的一个条件。然而，《但书》的拥护者们仍旧决心去寻求禁止在这些新的土地上实行奴隶制的途径。这些土地正在我们以前从法国手里购得的土地的西边，并且一直向西直达太平洋。这种态势的结果就是，一旦那条密苏里线一直向西延长，那么新的国土就会一分为二，一南一北。在道格拉斯法官动议下，参议院通过了一项议案，同意了密苏里线以此方式向西延伸。当然，众议院的《但书》派议员，也包括我，否决了该议案，因为该议案的意图就是在新地区的南部实行奴隶制，而我们的决心是想使它全部成为自由州。

1848年秋，加利福尼亚发现了金矿，旋即吸引了众多的淘金者。在不久的1849年召开的新的国会会议时，或召开后不久，它的人口就已近10万人。加利福尼亚于是就召开了制宪大会，禁止蓄奴，并要求加入联邦。支持《但书》的人当然是同意其加入的，但一直背道而驰的参议院就不答应了。这样加利福尼亚就因为禁止实行奴隶制而被置于联邦的大门之外。就全局来说，这种做法或许无过错可言，因为还有诸多与奴隶制这个大问题息息相关的争端也亟待解决。南方吵吵闹闹要制定一部法律有效地惩处逃跑的奴隶，而北方却嚷着要在哥伦比亚特区内废除这种古怪的奴隶贸易，因为从国会大厦的窗口向外望去，所见活像一个养着黑人的马厩，成群的黑人被集中在哪儿圈养着，然后像马一样带往南方的市场出售。这种情形已公然存在了50年。犹他和新墨西哥要成立准州政府，是否要实行奴隶制又是一个问题。还有，德克萨斯西部未定的边界问题依旧悬而未决。它是作为蓄奴州加入联邦的，因而那些赞成奴隶制的人把边界越往西推，他们获得的蓄奴地盘就会越大，那些反对奴隶制的人把边界越往东推，蓄奴的地盘就会越小，所以这件事情显然也还是归入奴隶制问题的。

这些问题全都出现了，都需要协调，最好的办法或许就是以一事顶一事，相互协调。现在的联邦如同1820年一样，充满了危机。对联邦的忠诚就要人们作出某种让步，作一些任何其他事情都不可能让他们作出的让步。于是，双方最终都作出了妥协。南方获得了惩办奴隶逃跑的法令，北方获得了加利福利亚（也是从墨西哥获得的土地中最好的那部分）作为自由州；南方获得一个条件，就是当新墨西哥和犹他以州的身份加入联邦时，他们可以自己做出选择是否实行奴隶制，相应地北方就在哥伦比亚特区废除了奴隶贸易；北方获得了有利的德克萨斯西部边界，比南部期望的边界更靠东，但是相应地他们也赔给了德克萨斯上千万美元作为补偿，让它用来偿还旧债。这便是《1850年妥协案》。

在1852年大选前夕，两大政党，民主党和辉格党，各自召开了会议，形成了决议，以“最后定局”的方式通过《1850年妥协案》，解决奴隶制引起的所有争端。在此之前的1851年，伊利诺伊州立法机构已经通过了该妥协案。

长期以来，内布拉斯加实质上是无人居住的地区，但是现在移民开始涌入并定居下来。内布拉斯加占了当下美国国土的1/3，一直被忽视的重要性开始为人们所重视。《密苏里妥协案》的限制直接适用于该地区，而且从最初开始就是为该地区而达成并特意为其保留的。1853年，众议院通过一个议案，让内布拉斯加成立一个准州政府，可是在道格拉斯法官的一手操控下，仅因为时间不够而使其在参议院夭折。该议案并没有包含要废除《密苏里妥协案》的内容。实际上，当它因为没有包含此内容而受到攻击时，道格拉斯法官还为其现存形式而辩护呢。1854年1月4日，道格拉斯法官提出了一个赋予内布拉斯加建立准州政府的新议案，同时还附上了一个报告，明确建议《密苏里妥协案》既不应该受到肯定，也不应该废除。不久，这个议案被修改了，不是建立一个准州，而是两个，南边的那个叫堪萨斯。

还有，在这个议案提出大约一个月后，在法官本人的动议下，又作了修正，宣布《密苏里妥协案》起不了什么作用因而无效。实际上，实行还是禁止奴隶制，由去那儿定居的人们看情况合适与否自行决定。于是议案就以这种形式在国会两院获得通过，成了法案。

这样就废除了《密苏里妥协案》。以前的历史或许不可能在每个特定点上都是准确无误的，但是我敢保证我所谈到的所有历史都是足够准确的。我们面前的主要历史材料能使我们正确判断废除《密苏里妥协案》的是非对错。

我认为，而且我将尽力说明，这一招是错误的，错就错在它直接导致了奴隶制进入了堪萨斯和内布拉斯加；错就错在它形成了这样一个潜在的原则：只要人们愿意，他们就可以把奴隶制带入广阔世界的任何一个角落。

我必须挑明，这种表面说实行不实行奴隶制无所谓，但暗地里热衷于扩大奴隶制的行径，是不能不使我痛恨的。我痛恨它是因为奴隶制本身是极不正义的。我痛恨它是因为它剥夺了我们共和国给予世界正面影响的典范地位，使得自由制度的敌人骂我们伪善还骂得似乎有理；使得真正的自由朋友怀疑我们的诚意；尤其是因为它迫使我们中这么多真正的好人公开挑战公民自由这一基本原则，批评《独立宣言》，并坚持说没有什么公正原则，有的只是私利。

继续说下去之前，我得声明一下：我认为我对南部民众并没有什么偏见。如果在他们的处境中，我们也会跟他们一样。如果现在他们没有奴隶制，那他们也不会推广它。如果现在我们实行着奴隶制，我们也不会立即就废除它。这一点上我相信南方北方的民众都一样。毫无疑问，南部和北部双方都有一些人，无论在什么情形下都是不会同意维护奴隶制的；同样，也有一些人即使奴隶制不存在，他们也会乐于把它重新引进来的。我们知道，有一些南方人确实释放了他们的奴隶，去了北方，成了很棒的废奴主义者；也有一些北方人，他们去了南部，成了最残酷的奴隶主。

当南方有人对我们说，在奴隶制的起源问题上他们并不比我们有更多的责任，这我承认是事实。当有人说制度存在了，就很难有满意的方式消除它。我能理解这种说法而且觉得说得在理。我当然不会责怪他们没有做连我自己都不知道如何做的事情。就是所有的世俗权力都赋予我，对于现存的制度我也不知道如何下手。要我来解决的话，我的第一冲动会去释放所有的奴隶，送他们去利比里亚，送他们回故土。可是稍作思考我就明白，无论长久来看这事有多大的希望（我觉得是有希望的），但短期内一下子解决是不现实的。试想，一天内他们全在那里登陆，接下来十天他们就会死光；况且就是再有许多个十天，也没有足够的钱和足够的船运送他们。那怎么办呢？全部解放他们，把他们留在我们身边当下属？而且这样做就肯定可以改善他们的处境了？我想我是绝不会要人给我做奴隶的，然而我也无十足的理由去指责别人。那下一步该怎么办？解放他们，让他们在政治和社会上和我们平等？对此我自己的感情不允许，即使我感情允许，我也很清楚广大白人民众是不允许的。问题不仅仅是这种感情与正义和正确判断是否一致，即使一致也只是问题的一部分。任何普遍的情感，无论其形成基础的好坏，都不能安然抛弃。所以我们就不能一律与他们平起平坐。这样在我看来，逐渐解放的操作方法可用；但对于南方兄弟在这个问题上的拖沓作风我是不愿说三道四的。

当他们跟我提起他们的宪法权利时，我也完全明确地加以承认而毫不勉强。我愿意为他们立法好让他们索回逃跑的奴隶，但是这样的立法不应该把自由民变为奴隶，就像我们的普通刑法一样，不应该绞死任何一个无辜的民众。

所有这一切，就我看来，不应该被作为借口把奴隶制引入我们的自由州，就如同不能用之为借口通过法律来恢复非洲奴隶贸易一样。禁止从非洲贩入奴隶的法律，和长久以来禁止把奴隶带进内布拉斯加的法律，两者从无论从任何道义原则上来说都具有相同的性质，废除了前者，就理所当然地可以废除后者。

主张废除《密苏里妥协案》的合理理由如下：

首先，内布拉斯加的土地上需要一个准州政府；

其次，公众以种种方式批驳、要求废除它，因而现在不应该再来抱怨了；

最后，废除妥协案所建立的原则是本质上正确的原则。

以下我按次序对以上三点一一给予反驳。

第一，如果那块土地上需要一个准州政府，废不废除妥协案有区别吗？爱荷华和明尼苏达都是《妥协案》的涉及对象，两者都在没有废除《妥协案》的情况下相继建立了准州组织。甚至前一年，有关内布拉斯加本身的一个议案，在没有废除《妥协案》条款的前提下也差点就通过了，而这议案当时就是掌握在现在主张废除《妥协案》的同样一群人手里。那时为什么就没有废除《妥协案》的必要呢？再后来，当这个议案第一次提出时，并没有包含废除条款，但是，他们说，因为公众已经要求了，或者更精确地说已经做出命令要废除了：什么时候要建立准州政府，就要什么时候废除《妥协案》。

我现在否认公众曾经有过此种要求，否认他们曾经要求否定《密苏里妥协案》，否认他们曾经命令废除《密苏里妥协案》。我对此否认，要么你们就提供证据。我认为，不容争辩的是，没有谁以明确的措辞给出这种命令。仅有人说过有人在原则上提过这事。支持《韦慕特但书》是所提到的用来证明《妥协案》原则上遭到否定的第一件事；第二件事就是拒绝在从墨西哥获得的土地上延伸密苏里线。这两件事非常相近，可以归在一起对待。前者就是把蓄奴的机会从整个新获得的地区整块地排除出去。后者就是拒绝把新得的土地一分为二，而其中的一半实行奴隶制。现在这到底是否就是原则上否决密苏里线，取决于密苏里线法案是否包含任何原则，要求把密苏里线延伸到从墨西哥获得的土地上去。我觉得没有包含，我认为密苏里法案没有包含任何一般性的原则，无论从何种意义上说，它包含的都只是特定的原则。它的条款束缚它针对的是从法国购得的土地，这是没人否认也是不能否认的。密苏里法案没有其制定者意图之外的原则。他们并没有打算把那条线延伸到他们并没拥有的土地上。如果他们有意要在新获得的土地上延伸这条线，那他们为什么不说出来？他们要说的就同他们说过的一样容易：在我们所拥有的密西西比西部所有的土地上，或者今后可能获得的密西西比以西的所有土地上，永远禁止实行奴隶制。如果他们果有此意，他们就会说出来了。扩大该法案适用范围的意图并没有在法案里提出，在任何历史同时期的历史资料里也没提。法案本身和那时期的历史资料都没有提到任何扩大的原则。而且无论是根据众所周知的解释法典和合约的常规，还是根据常识，都推断不出这种原则。

另一个事实就是，根据这个法案，密苏里作为该线以北的蓄奴州加入联邦。该事实证明了密苏里法案具有专门针对性特征，证明密苏里线并没有打算作为自由州和蓄奴州的现在和将来的通用分界线，该线以北永不蓄奴，而且也证明了该法案的意图没有超出其文字表达。如果该法案包含任何可能原则，我们就必须求助整个法案来弄清所含的原则是什么。根据这个规则，南部完全可以主张：既然他们在法案建立伊始可以在线以北建一个蓄奴州，那他们就有权在该线向西无限扩展过程中间或在该线以北再建一个。这就可以看出试图从《密苏里妥协案》中推断出一条可能原则的荒谬之处。

当我们对《韦慕特但书》投赞成票，我们就是在投票把奴隶制从整个墨西哥获得的土地上清除出去，一点也没想到我们是在投票让奴隶制进入几百英里之外的内布拉斯加。当我们投票反对延伸密苏里妥协线，一点也没想到我们是在投票废除业已存在30年之久的老线，以为我们这样是为了废除《密苏里妥协案》是荒唐的！就如同说因为到目前为止我们禁止占领古巴，因此我们原则上反对我们先前取得的那些领土，并决心把他们从联邦剔除出去一样荒唐！就如同说因为我不愿意扩建我的住宅，因此就决定毁掉我现有的住宅一样荒唐透顶！如果你放火烧我的住宅被我捉住，你却反咬一口说我指使你放的火！在投票赞成《韦慕特但书》，在投票反对延伸密苏里妥协线时，我们从来没有想到要扰乱最初的《密苏里妥协案》，这方面最有力的证据就是，那时那里有，现在仍然有大片的优质的零散的土地未开发，那片几乎同密苏里州一样大的土地就在阿肯色西面，密苏里妥协线南面，而且我们从未禁止在那里实行奴隶制。我希望大家对此要给予特别的重视。这块土地北部边界紧接最初的密苏里妥协线，据此理所当然是属于可以实行奴隶制区域不可分割的一部分的。这块土地过去到现在一直闲置在那里，我们从没有努力过想把它从南方夺过来。我们为禁止奴隶制进入从墨西哥获得的土地而斗争，但我们对这块土地从未动过一根手指头。难道这还不足以证明我们向来一直奉《密苏里妥协案》为神圣之物么？无论于我们有利还是于我们无利，我们一直如此。

道格拉斯参议员有时主张，密苏里线本身原则上仅仅是1787年法令规定的分界线的扩展版，也就是说是俄亥俄河一线的延伸，我认为这种说法表面上看就站不住脚。我要说，看一眼地图就会清楚，密苏里线比俄亥俄河向南延伸得更远。假如我们的道格拉斯参议员在提出延伸主张时坚持向南推进的原则，或许还不会这么容易就被否决。

但是，接下去又有人说，1850年的那些妥协案以及两党于1852对其作出的认可，确立了一个要求废除《密苏里妥协案》的新原则。对此我依然持否定态度，并要求拿出证据。我已经充分阐明了1850年的那些妥协案为何物。虚拟废除《密苏里妥协案》是从那些妥协案的某一部分推断出来的（因为人们已承认这部分没有明确措辞说要废除《密苏里妥协案》的），这部分指的就是有关犹他和新墨西哥法令的条款，该条款允许他们在以州的身份加入联邦时，是否实行奴隶制由他们看情形自行决断。我现在坚持这个条款是为犹他和新墨西哥专设的，并不是为了其他任何什么地方。这个条款与内布拉斯加没有直接关系，就如同它与月亮上的土地没有直接关系一样。但是，他们却主张该条款原则上与内布拉斯加有关系。那我们就来理论理论：北方之所以同意这个法案，倒并不因为他们认为法案本身是正确的，而是因为他们为此得到了补偿，同时获得了加利福利亚作为自由州加入了联邦，这是他们为《韦慕特但书》进行斗争获得的所有收获中的最好部分。他们还使德克萨斯境内居住地的蓄奴范围有所缩小，还在哥伦比亚特区废除奴隶贸易。为了所有这一切值得期待的目标，北方是可以作出一些让步的，而且他们确实在犹他和新墨西哥的条款上对南方作出了让步。我倒并不是说在法案通过时，全体北方人或是大部分人同意让步，而是在投票时加上了足够多的南方人同意让法案获得了通过。现在可以假借这种安排的原则要求我们同意这个条款同样应用于内布拉斯加而根本不给任何等价的补偿吗？再给我们一个自由州，把德克萨斯的边界再往后缩一点，把哥伦比亚特区废除奴隶制的工作再前进一步，这就跟以前一样我们两不吃亏。但是不要要求我们作出以前的让步而不付任何代价，如果你们再要以前的好处，那就得再付报酬。这就是1850年那些妥协案的原则。确实，如果说在那些特定条款背后有什么原则的话，那就是等价交换的原则。

还有，假如国会那时有意决定，未来所有的准州在加入联邦时，都可以自行决定是否实行奴隶制，那它为什么不这样说呢？大家都知道，如果议案有这样一条具有普遍意义的条款，就不可能获得通过。那么，他们当时有没有，或能不能建立一条与他们意图相悖的原则呢？再者说，假如他们打算建立这样一个原则，凡是由国会控制的地方，应该由民众自行决定是否适合发展奴隶制，那他们为什么就不授权哥伦比亚特区的民众在这些规定范围内来自行废除奴隶制呢？我个人知道这并不是不做，而是没人想到这样做。六年前，国会议员有人这么说过，华盛顿特区有公民也这么说过，我没有听说过哪一个人会怀疑在特区内有大多数白人不愿意逐渐解放奴隶给奴隶主以补偿。但是国会不作为，他们就什么也不能说，而且国会只说了声“不行”。国会1850年的各项议案中就明显包含奴隶制主题，如果他们当时建立了原则，允许人们自主解决奴隶制问题，那么他们为何不把那个原则运用于特区的人民？

还有就是1851年通过的伊利诺伊议会的决议案提出要废除《密苏里妥协案》的事。对此我仍然持否定态度。无论对那些决议案的语言文字批评出什么结果，人们都会认为他们仅仅是赞同1850年的那些妥协案，认为我们的参议员们可以不对《韦慕特但书》投赞成票。所有民众都是活生生的见证人，证明这仅仅是他们的想法而已。最后，有人问道：“假如不把犹他和新墨西哥的条款运用到未来所有的区域，那1852年我们同意1850年的那些妥协案的意图何在呢？”

对我自己来说，回答这个问题最简单不过了。我没有要求废除或者修改奴隶逃跑法；没有要求在哥伦比亚特区废除奴隶制；没有要求抵制犹他和新墨西哥加入联邦，哪怕他们要求以蓄奴州的身份加入；我也没对其他地区有什么想法，因为我知道，我们没有哪个地区的奴隶制不是定了型的。至于内布拉斯加，我觉得它的性质已经被《密苏里妥协案》确定了30年了，就像我在伊利诺伊的家乡那里的性质一样，是铁定不移的。至于新获得的地区，我说过我们要“当日难处当日毕”。每当我们获得新的土地，我们就极力效仿先例设法解决。这就是我的回答。我怎么想就怎么说的，我也呼吁人们都对自己这么说：是否那不也是自由州的普遍意义所在吗？

现在轮到我反问几个问题。假如根据某件事或者所有这些事，要求过废除《密苏里妥协案》，那么这个要求为什么不早一点被接受？为什么废除要求在1853年内布拉斯加法案里不提？为什么在1854年的原始法案里也不提？为什么却在所附的报告里把废除一事定性为对1850年所遵循的路线的背离？为什么对这种现象一再出现而置若罔闻呢？

我明白道格拉斯法官现在辩白说，后来明确废除《密苏里妥协案》对法案没有实质性的变动。这种辩词对我来是似乎是“妙”到了极点，这好像一个人硬说白与黑没有区别一样。但是，他还是承认法案有一处文字上的更改，而且是遵从其他参议员的意见所作的更改，不这样更改他们是不支持法案的。这证明了那些其他参议员认为这个更改是实质性的，而且道格拉斯法官也认为他们的意见值得遵从。因此，这也说明了法官先生本人的观点在他大脑里也没有坚实的根基，我认为人们相信，而且继续相信，就是这一更改产生了所有的纷争。

因此我断言，民众们从来没有要求废除《密苏里妥协案》。

现在我来考察废除《密苏里妥协案》及其公开的原则在本质上是否正确。我坚持认为是不正确的。就拿这个特例来说，在我们从法国手里购得的土地上，就奴隶制的建立有的赞成，有的反对，两方争得难解难分。当时所购得土地的最好部分是南部，那里早就是个蓄奴州了。这个争端也是通过让密苏里作为一个蓄奴州加入联邦而彻底解决，但同时附有一个协议，那就是在所购得土地的剩余部分，在某一条线以北，永远禁止实行奴隶制。至于在这条线以南的剩余部分，情况该如何决定只字没提。但是或许公正的含义就是，如果它选择了奴隶制，那它就可以以一个蓄奴州加入联邦。南面部分，除了上面提到的那部分外，后来确实以蓄奴州的身份加入了联邦，这就是阿肯色州。从1820年以来的这些年中，北部一直是个荒无人烟的地区。最终这个地方也有人定居了。时机成熟，爱荷华以自由州进入联邦，明尼苏达建立了准州政府，没有取消奴隶制限制。最后，该线以北唯一剩余的土地，堪萨斯和内布拉斯加将要组建，提议并通过一个议案，要把存在34年之久的那条老的分界线给去除掉，好让整个地区引进奴隶制。现在依我看，这显然是不公正的。经过一场激烈而危机四伏的争议之后，双方通过分割争论焦点而重归于好。其中一方首先获得它自己的份额，任何力量不得干涉，然后再夺取另一方的份额。就好比两个饥饿之人共分一块面包，一方快速吞下他的一半，然后乘另一方刚准备把他的一半放到嘴里时就劈手把这一半夺走！

让我暂时丢开这一主要话题，来谈一件我认为次要的话题。有人坚持认为奴隶制无论如何不会进入堪萨斯和内布拉斯加。这是一剂镇痛药，一段催眠曲。我倒希望不会这样，但是我们不要过于自信。从气候来看，瞄一眼地图便知有五个蓄奴州：特拉华、马里兰、弗吉尼亚、肯塔基和密苏里，还有哥伦比亚特区，都在密苏里妥协线以北。1850年人口普查显示，这些州里有867，276名奴隶，占全国奴隶数的1/4强。

因此，不是什么气候会使奴隶制脱离这些个准州。这一大块地区有什么独特的个性么？密苏里的整个西部边界同这些准州相连，并且奴隶制已遍及它的西部各县。我甚至听说，同白人的比例一样，密苏里西北部一个县的奴隶，比该州任何一个县的奴隶还要多。奴隶制直逼该州以前的西部边界，另外，最近西北部的部分边界向西稍稍移了一些，奴隶制也立马跟上。现在，一旦限制撤销，还有什么能阻止奴隶制进一步推进呢？气候是阻止不了的。该地区没有什么特别的东西可以阻止——整个自然界都没有什么可以阻止。民众的意愿可以阻止么？所有最接近那个地区的人都赞成奴隶制扩张。反对奴隶制的北方人倒是更多，但是借用句军事术语，毕竟战场离他们的军事基地太远了。

但是，又有人说，内布拉斯加目前没有有关奴隶制的法律，因而，把奴隶带到那儿，奴隶就自由了。可这只是理论，实际是行不通的。无论什么形式的奴隶制，最初都是在没有法律的情形下引进的。我们发现，最早的与之有关的法律倒不是引进奴隶制，而是把奴隶制当作一个已存在的事物加以规范。现在一个白人把他的奴隶带到内布拉斯加，这个白人会告诉奴隶说他自由了？谁会把他一个奴隶带到法庭给他证实说他自由了呢？这个奴隶对他在法律上已获自由一无所知，他仍旧作为苦工砍啊、劈啊、耕啊、种啊的。别的奴隶也被带进来，重复的是同样的命运。最后，一旦对奴隶制存废问题表决的时刻到来了，奴隶制实际上已经在那块土地上存在已久，很难轻易消除了。排除奴隶制直到投票，直到人们投它赞成票，对于世上任何一个有4万人口的群体，对于其一般动机就是移民和定居而聚在一起的群体来说是办不到的。让奴隶和白人在定居伊始就同时进入这个地区，是下了一笔精确谋划的赌注，这一赌注在内布拉斯加这一局算是赚了。

有人问我们：“尽管有解放奴隶的一般法律原则，奴隶还是进来了，那么就算有明确的成文法，奴隶还不是会照样进来吗？即使有《密苏里限制》的存在，他们还不是进来了吗？”我的回答是，在后一种情形下，一个人要把他的努力财产带进来，要比在前一种情形下，需要更大的胆量，因为这个国会的明确法令是众所周知的，并受到全体，或近乎全体的一致尊重。而那个没有法律就是自由的法律的负面原则除了律师之外没什么人知道。对于其中的实际差异我们是有经验的。尽管有1787年法令，还是有一些奴隶被带进了伊利诺伊使其成为了半奴隶状态，但是奴隶数目还没有多到在制定宪法时让奴隶制获得投票通过。可是在毗连的密苏里地区，那儿没有1787年法令，没有限制，奴隶被成十倍，不，成百倍的速度带进去，实际上已形成了一个蓄奴州，这是个事实，一个明摆着的事实。

另一个催眠曲性质的论调就是，带奴隶进入新的地区并不增加奴隶的数目，并不使一个本来自由的人成为奴隶。这样说有一定的道理，我乐意听到这样的话，但这并非百分之百正确。非洲奴隶贸易没有得到有效制止，如果我们把我们中间的来自外国的白人以及1808年后到这儿的外国人后代作合理推算，我们将发现黑人人口数的增加超过白人人口数，差距之大难以解释，只能认为他们有一部分也是来自于非洲的。如果属实，对新的地区开放奴隶制将会增加对奴隶的需求并提高奴隶的价格，这样实际上就是通过从非洲把自由人运进来，把他们卖进奴隶的藩篱，使其成为奴隶。

但是，无论怎样，我们都很清楚，把新得的土地向奴隶制敞开会永久化奴隶制，会使本来自由的人不断地变为奴隶。这种结果并不是我们想要的。在这方面我们没有法律义务压制我们的情感。

也有人说，为了对南方显示公平公正，我们必须同意把奴隶制扩大到新的地区。也就是说，你不反对我把我的猪带入内布拉斯加，因此我必须不反对你把你的奴隶带进去。现在，只要猪和黑人之间没有区别，我就承认这一说法完全符合逻辑。但是，既然你们由此就要求我否定黑人的人性，我就想问问你们南方人，你们自己是不是向来都是愿意如此的。好就好在生在这个世界上的人只有一小部分是天生的暴君，蓄奴州和自由州都是如此。无论是南方和北方，大多数人还是具有人的同情心的，他们没有泯灭这种同情心，就像他们还没有失去肉体痛苦的感觉一样。南部人胸中怀有的同情怜悯之心以这样或那样的方式表现出来，他们觉得奴隶制是错误的，意识到毕竟黑人也是有人性的。如果他们对此否认，那我就问他们几个简单明了的问题：1820年你们同北方人一道，几乎一致同意宣布非洲奴隶贸易为海盗行为，并同意对此行为处以极刑，你们为什么这么做？如果你不觉得奴隶制是错的，那你们为什么拥护绞死奴隶贩子？他们的所做作为只不过就是把非洲野生黑人带过来加以买卖而已啊，但你们从来就没想到过要把那些捕捉和出售野马、野牛和野熊的贩子处以绞刑啊。

还有，你们当中有个鬼鬼祟祟的人，属于那种地头蛇一类的人，通常被称作“奴隶贩子”。他瞄准你有不时之需，慢慢接近你，压低价格买你的奴隶。如果你别无选择，就只能把奴隶卖给他；如果你有办法，你就把他赶出家门。你从心底鄙视他，不拿他作朋友，甚至不把他当作诚实的人对待。你的孩子千万不能跟他的孩子玩。你的孩子可以自由自在跟小黑人嬉闹，但就是不能跟“奴隶贩子”的孩子玩耍。如果你没办法非得跟他打交道，你会竭力碰都不碰他一下把事情熬过去。见到人与他握手很正常，但碰到奴隶贩子你就免了这个程序，本能地回避同这个阴险狡猾的人接触。一旦他发财后洗手不干了，你却仍旧记住他，仍旧与他和他的家人断绝往来。这是为什么？你们可不是这样对待贩玉米、贩牲口和贩烟草的人啊。

不仅如此，在联邦各州和其他各地区，包括哥伦比亚特区，有433，643个自由黑人，按照每头黑人值500美元计算，总货款在两亿美元以上。值这么多钱的财物没有主人而任凭它们到处乱跑怎么行呢？我们可没看见自由的马和自由的牛到处乱跑啊。这到底是怎么回事呢？所有这些自由黑人都是奴隶的后代，或者其本人就做过奴隶。要不是什么东西对他们的白人主人起了作用，诱使他们承受巨大的经济牺牲而解放他们，那他们现在还是奴隶。那种东西到底是什么呢？这会不会是弄错了？所有这一切都是你们的正义感在起作用，是你们的人类的同情心在不断地提醒着你们，那些可怜的黑人也有天赋的权利。否认这种权利，使黑人仅仅成为商品的那些人理应受到惩罚，理应受到鄙视，理应被处死。

既然如此，你们为什么却叫我们去否认奴隶的人性？为什么却叫我们把奴隶仅仅当作猪一样看待？为什么却叫我们去干你们自己不愿干的勾当？为什么有2亿美元诱惑你们都不愿做的事却叫我们去白做？

但是，支持废除《密苏里妥协案》还是有一个有力的论据，那就是“神圣的自治权利”。这个论据，似乎我们杰出的参议员即使在众议院里也难找到对手。有位诗人说过：“傻瓜冲进去的地方，天使是不敢涉足的。”

按照这个说法，我冒着被认为是傻瓜的危险挑战这个论据，我冲进去了，不顾危险握住了大牯牛的角。

我相信我理解并能真正尊奉自治权利。我对自治权利的笃信是以我内心深处的正义感为基础的，这种自治权利是指每个人都应该按照自己的心愿处理属于自己专有的一切。我把这种自治原则推广到一个个社区，也推广到每个个人。之所以扩充这个原则，是因为它不仅在政治上是睿智的，同时在本质上还是公正的。其政治上的睿智性，是指它可以使我们免于因无关的事而互动肝火。比如在这里，或者在华盛顿，我就不必为弗吉尼亚的牡蛎法揪心，也不必去为印第安纳的小红莓法而烦恼。

自治的学说是正确的——绝对正确！永久正确！但是它用在这里却不恰当。或者我不如说，是否正当使用自治取决于黑人是不是人。如果黑人不是人，那么为什么是人的人就可以借自治之名，随心所欲地处置他们。如果黑人是人，那么他们却不能自治的事实不就从根底里彻底地破坏自治了么？白人自己管自己叫自治，可他们除了管自己之外还管别人，那就超出了自治，叫专制了。如果黑人是人，那么我古老的信条教导我“人生来平等”，一个人就没有道义上的权利把另一个人变为奴隶。

道格拉斯法官时不时地以尖酸刻薄的口气演绎我们的论据，说什么“内布拉斯加的白人特好，可以进行自治，但是没有好到足以管理那几个可怜的黑人！！”

对，我不怀疑内布拉斯加的人民同别的地方的普通民众现在一样好，而且将来仍旧是一样好。我不说反话，我真正要说的就是：没有人能好到这种程度，就是没有得到别人的同意，就能统治另一个人。我认为这是一个主要的原则——绝对是美国共和主义的根基。我们的《独立宣言》里写道：

我们坚信如下真理不言自明：每个人生而平等；造物主赋予每个人一些不可剥夺的权利；这些权利包括生命权，自由权和追求幸福权。为了确保这些权利不受侵犯，人们建立政府，政府的正当权利来源于被统治民众的意愿。

我现在引用这么多话只想证明：根据我们古老的信条，政府的正当权利来源于民众的意愿。可现在的奴隶主与奴隶之间的关系已走向极端，完全违背了这一原则。奴隶主统治奴隶不仅没有获得奴隶的同意，他们制定的用来对付奴隶的一套与他们用来规约自己的那一套完全不同。允许所有被统治者在政府里有同等的发言权，如此政府，而且仅有如此的政府，才能算得上是自治政府。

不要说我是在主张要求建立白人与黑人之间的政治和社会平等，我说过我不会这样主张。我现在不是对因为黑人已经存在于我们中间而产生的紧迫性这个论点进行反驳，我在对把允许黑人带到他们从未去过的地方定为一个符合道义的论点进行反驳——我是在反对把一样坏的东西扩大开去，在这个坏东西业已存在的地方，我们必须竭力设法应对。

为了支持如此运用自治学说，道格拉斯参议员援引了我们革命前辈们的一些意见与范例。我很高兴他有这样的列举，我热爱那时的前辈们的情感，并将非常高兴地遵从他们的建议。道格拉斯参议员向我们表明，当那些殖民地考虑脱离英联邦，为自己建立新政府的时候，有几个州吩咐它们的代表在拥护这一举措时，要求附带如下条件：必须允许每个州以自己的方式管理它们的内部事务。我在此引用的只是大致意思，不是原话。这话是对的，我看不出什么值得反对的地方。我也认为这话同各州中间存在奴隶制的事实有一定的关系，对此我不作否认。但这话同把奴隶制送进新的地区有任何关系吗？这就是问题所在。还是请我们的先辈们自己来回答这个问题吧。

就是这同一代的人，而且主要就是这一代的那些个人，他们宣布了这项原则——就是他们宣布了独立——就是他们把独立革命战争进行到底了——就是他们后来制定了我们至今仍生活在其下的宪法——而且就是这些人通过了1787年法令，宣布奴隶制永远不得进入西北部土地。我深信道格拉斯法官一定认为先辈们在这一点上自相矛盾。我认为在这里道格拉斯法官和前辈们是有识别力差异的。但是无论如何他也没有丝毫根据可以认为，在这场争论中先辈们的主张——先辈们的范例——先辈们的权威——是支持他那种做法的。

再说内布拉斯加，虽说仅仅为一个准州，难道就不是我们的一部分了么？我们没有拥有这个州么？如果我们放弃对它的控制，不就放弃了自治的权利了么？内布拉斯加是我们不可分割的一部分。假如你们说就因为仅仅是部分，所以我们不应该控制它，那么其他每一部分都应该一样。但当所有的部分都消失了，整体又会怎样？那时我们还会剩下什么？没什么可管理了，还要一个全国的政府有何用？

但是你们会说，这个问题更与内布拉斯加人民的利益休戚相关，所以该由他们自己来决断。按照此规则的话，那你们必须要让每个人自己说他们要不要奴隶。第31个公民说第32个公民不应该拥有奴隶，第31个州的人民说奴隶制不应该进入第32个州，前者相比后者在道义上并没有高到哪儿去。

可是，如果说让内布拉斯加的人民把奴隶带进去并在那里蓄奴是他们的神圣权利，那么他们要从最便宜的地方买进奴隶也同样是他们神圣的权利了，而且那个最便宜的地方便是非洲海岸了，只要你们同意不因为他们去那儿买奴隶就把他们绞死。你们必须也要把这个限制从神圣的自治权利中撤销掉。我清楚你们会说把奴隶从各州带到内布拉斯加不会把自由人变成奴隶，但是非洲的奴隶贩子也会说同样的话。他会说他并不把自由的黑人捉过来，会说他发现那些黑人时他们已经是黑人捕获者手中的奴隶，他可是老老实实地以每个奴隶一块红棉布手帕的代价买来的。这可是非常便宜的了，把做这种可盈利的买卖的人绞死可是严重剥夺他们神圣的自治权利！

另一个反对自治权如此使用的重要意见是：它使最初的少数人剥夺以后的多数人自由的地行使自治权。最初的少数人可以把奴隶制引进来，但随后的多数人不会那么容易把奴隶制清理掉。现在的蓄奴州都流传着这样一句话：“如果我们现在没有奴隶，那该多好啊！”他们现在不能如愿享有自治，其实是被当初少数人剥夺了自治权而已。当初我们的宪法制定时，整个国家的情形亦是如此。

奴隶制是否应该进入内布拉斯加或其他新的准州，不单单只是关系到有可能去那儿的人们的切身利益。举国上下都希冀这些土地能够得到最好的利用，因而我们想把这些个地方变为自由白人的家园。但是，一旦奴隶制扎了根，这就很难实现。蓄奴州应该是贫苦白人迁出而不是他们迁入的地方。新的自由州是贫苦人们去定居和改善自己生活境况的地方。为此，国家需要这些个土地。

更糟糕的是，蓄奴州和自由州还存在着宪法上的关系，这对自由州来说是屈辱的。因为我们在法律上负有义务，要捕捉并归还奴隶主逃跑的奴隶——这是一项肮脏的令人生厌的工作，我相信普遍来说奴隶主相互之间是不愿干这些事的。还有，在对政府控制方面——也就是在对公共事务的管理方面——蓄奴州占了我们大便宜。按照宪法，每州有两名参议员——按其人口数，每州还有相应数量的众议员——而且每州有一定数量的总统选举人，其总数等于其众议员和参议员之和。但在为此而确定各州人数时，5名奴隶算作3名白人。奴隶们不投票，只计数字，好用来增加白人投票的影响力。

这种情况的实际效果用南卡罗来纳和缅因两个州作比较可作较好说明。南卡有6名众议员，缅因与此相同；南卡有8名总统选举人，缅因的情况亦与此相同。到此为止两州都是完全相等的，而且，两州的参议员当然也相同，都是2名。因此，在对政府控制方面，两州完全不分强弱。可是在白人人数方面又是怎样的情况呢？缅因州有581183人——而南卡仅有274567人。缅因的白人相当于南卡的白人数两倍还超32679人。因而，南卡的每个白人抵得上缅因的任何白人的两倍还有余。这完全是因为南卡除了自由民以外，还有384984名奴隶。同对缅因州一样，对其他任何自由州的白人来说南卡都具有完全相同的优势。他在我们这群人中一个顶两个还有余。蓄奴州的所有公民对自由州的公民都占优势，只是程度不同而已。有这样一个绝对事实，一无例外，就是任何一个蓄奴州里不是选民的人，却在政府里拥有比任何自由州里的任何一个选民更多的合法权利。没有切实的平等可言，情形向来于我们不利。这项原则总共让蓄奴州在现在的国会里额外多了20名众议员——比他们赖以通过的内布拉斯加法案的人数总和还多出7名。

虽然这显然不公平，但是我倒不是为了抱怨而提起它，因为这是早已定好了的。这已经写入了宪法，我不是为那个原因，或者任何别的原因提议去破坏或者改变宪法，或者对宪法置若罔闻。我是非常、彻底并坚定地拥护宪法的。

但是，当有人告诉我，要我必须完全听任别人去决定是否要培养新的合伙人，并根据同样的有辱我人格的条件把他们带入我的事业，我将婉言谢绝。我坚持认为，我到底是个完整的人还是同别人相比仅仅是半个人这个问题，多少是我关注的一个问题。对于这个问题，任何人没有所谓的神圣权利代我做出决定。如果我这样做有错误的话——如果那个去内布拉斯加的人，他决定他是否是与我等同或者顶得上我两个的权利真是他神圣的自制权利的话，那么等他行使完权利，我也因之缩小到我本来人形的一个较小的部分之后，我将请求某位精于神圣权利的奥妙的先生为他自己准备一台显微镜，透过显微镜窥视一下，看他能否找到我的神圣权利已经变成啥样了！他们肯定太小，小得肉眼无法看见。

最后，我坚持认为，如果有样东西全体人民有责任除自己之外绝不托付于他人，这种东西就是保护他们自己的自由和制度并使之永存。如果他们同我一样，认为奴隶制的扩张相比其他任何一个或者其他所有原因会使他们遭受更大危险，那么，如果他们还把这个问题，连同他们国家的命运交给一小撮仅仅在乎自己眼前私利的小人的话，他们会是多么怯懦不忠啊！如果奴隶制的扩张问题无足轻重——是一个不会造成多大伤害的问题——那大可就此把它撇在一边。但既然是头危险的猛兽，国家强劲的铁腕难道应该松开它，而把它交给如此一群胆小的人去看管？

关于道格拉斯法官有力的自治论据我已经给出了回应。滚吧，神圣“自治”！安静地滚吧！

但是，内布拉斯加法案被极力推崇为挽救联邦的有力举措。好！我也力求拯救联邦。我痛恨奴隶制之至，但是为了不看到联邦解体，我宁愿扩大奴隶制。就如同我为了避免更大的祸害而宁愿容忍一个大祸害一样。当时，当我着力拯救联邦时，我至少相信，我所采取的措施必须有助于我的目的。就我看来，内布拉斯加法案不具备这种功能。

“其中没有拯救的成分。”

更精确地说，内布拉斯加法案倒使唯一一样危害联邦的东西加重了。该法案尚未产生的时候，举国上下一片和平与宁静。国民都在期待着新的联邦纽带的形成，我们面前仿佛延伸着一条和平与繁荣的康庄大道。在所有可能出现的情况里，除了试图废除《密苏里妥协案》之外，几乎不会出现什么可以再一次引起奴隶制的风波。我们所拥有的每一寸土地上的奴隶制问题都已经彻底解决了，而且各方都立下誓言予以遵守。确实，这块大陆上已经没有无人居住的土地提供给我们了，除非是一些最靠北的地方，而那些地方完全可以不予以考虑。就当时的情况，连善于制造分裂的恶魔本人也一筹莫展，找不到办法让我们再度互相倾轧，除非就是靠背信弃义，破坏过去的一些和平措施以达到目的。那个恶魔的智囊们似乎占了上风，于是《密苏里妥协案》被废除了，于是，我认为我们现在就处于前所未有的奴隶制风波之中。谁对此负责？是那些抵制这一法案的人，或者是那些无缘无故提起这一法案并强行把它通过、同时也知道法案必须而且将会被抵制的人？法案的制造者预料到法案会被当作扩张奴隶制的手段，该手段又会因为对信念的粗暴践踏而更显卑鄙。无论你怎样狡辩，无论你狡辩多久，法案的真相已经大白于天下。这样，该法案不可避免会引起风波。奴隶制植根于人本性中的自私——与之相对立的，是人本性中对正义的爱。这两种本性是永远对抗的，一旦被卷入剧烈的对抗，正如奴隶制的扩张所引起的那样，随之而来的必定是无休止的震颤、剧痛和惊厥。无论是废除《密苏里妥协案》，废除所有妥协案，还是废除《独立宣言》，废除过去所有的历史，你还是不能废除人的本性。人的丰富的正义本性还是认为奴隶制的扩张是错误的，就是出于这种本性，人的嘴还是要继续说话的。

内布拉斯加法案的结构也是非常奇特的。人民将自己解决奴隶制问题，但是他们将什么时候解决，将如何解决，或者，一旦问题解决了，是否保持原样，还是要经历新的无休止的考验，关于这些法案都没说。奴隶制问题是由十几个第一批来的定居者来决定，还是等到来100个人才决定？是由人民来投票决定，还是由立法机构来投票决定，或者是由任何其他方式的投票决定？对于这些问题，法案没有给出回答。这有点奇怪，因为当有人提议给议会明确权利以废除奴隶制时，这个人就会被支持法案的人给轰下台。这件事是值得牢记在心的。东部的一些美国人正在把移民派送到内布拉斯加，想把奴隶制从内布拉斯加排除出去，而且就我来看，他们期待着这个问题通过某种投票的方式予以解决。但是，密苏里人也是清醒的，他们与这个有争议的地区仅一步之遥。他们举行会议，通过决议，但对于投票决定奴隶制只字不提。他们的决议说奴隶制早已存在，更多的人将会去那里，他们早已待在那里的人将要保护奴隶制，主张废除奴隶制的人将被绞死或者被逐离。在整个过程中，猎刀和六发左轮手枪随时可见，但就是见不着投票箱。其真正的结果会是怎样呢？每一党派内外都有数不清坚定的支持者，这场纠缠难道没有可能酿成格斗和流血冲突吗？在奴隶制这个问题上，还有什么发明比内布拉斯加方案更适合引起暴力和冲突呢？我不指控，也不相信这是国会的意图。但如果他们果真搭建了角斗场，并在其中放了拳击手让他们靠拳头解决争议的话，那么这场争斗将是不可避免的了。而且一旦开战，双方会采取和平的，能拯救联邦的方式吗？为此所流的第一滴血就不会真正成为联邦的丧钟么？

《密苏里妥协案》理应恢复。为了联邦的安危，它理应恢复。我们理应选举成立个众议院以通过投票来使之恢复。如果因为什么原因我们做不到这一点，那随之将会发生什么？奴隶制或许会也或许不会在内布拉斯加建立，但无论如何我们都将否定了——从联邦委员会里摒弃了——妥协的思想。打这以后，谁还会相信有全国范围内的妥协了呢？互相让步的精神——就是这精神首先赋予了我们宪法，然后又三次挽救了联邦——就被我们扼死，并永远丢弃。我们将用什么取而代之呢？南方因为胜利而欢呼雀跃，还欲图谋更大好处，北方呢，因为认为被出卖，耿耿于怀，酝酿着复仇。一方若挑衅，另一方必愤恨；一方若嘲弄，另一方必回应；一方若攻击，另一方必报复。北方已经有些人公然反对所有的宪法限制，抵制执行逃跑奴隶法，他们甚至威胁到有些州现存的奴隶制。

南方也有些人声称自己有宪法权利，把奴隶带到自由州并在那里蓄养——他们要求恢复奴隶贸易，要求同不列颠缔结条约，并据此可以从加拿大索回逃跑的奴隶。目前这两类人为数尚少。如果《密苏里妥协案》最终被废除，随之废除的就还有为了全局的妥协精神，这些是否会为一方壮胆而使另一方积怨，并最终使双方人数的数量剧增，对于联邦的热爱者来说，是一个严肃的问题。

但是，恢复了妥协案，接下去又怎样呢？我们由此就可以恢复国民的信念，恢复国民的自信，恢复国民的兄弟情义。我们由此就可以恢复忍让和妥协的精神——就是这种精神使我们过去屡经危险而立于不败，也值得我们托付今后的平安。南部理应加入到这个事业中来，国家的和平于他们跟于我们一样珍贵。对于过去的记忆和未来的希冀，他们同我们担负同样的责任。这对于他们来说可是伟大的举动——不仅精神伟大，效果也伟大。对于国家来说，这值得一百年的和平与繁荣。他们要做出什么牺牲呢？他们仅仅要把很久很久以前考虑要给我们的东西给我们；要把他们到现在还没要的，还没争得到的或者还没关注过的东西给我们；要把别人硬塞给他们，让他们和我们一样吃惊的东西给我们。

但有人说我们不能恢复妥协案，说尽管我们选举了每一位下议院的议员，但参议院还是会否决我们的。确实，通过内布拉斯加法案的议员，不管今年和明年的选举结果如何，大多数参议员还是保留他们的席位的。但是，假如这些选举中的选民明确表明他们反对内布拉斯加法案，这些参议员们还会不顾他们的意愿么？他们还会既不遵从，也不为那些愿意遵从的人让位么？

但是，即使我们不能从严格的意义上恢复妥协案，为了支持妥协案恢复举行一场投票行为本身也是有重大意义的。这样的投票在道义上的分量是怎么也不会被高估的。内布拉斯加法案的制造者们根本不会满足毁灭妥协案的——使其原则化，才是他们宣称的伟大目标。对他们来说，内布拉斯加本身仅仅是件不起眼的小事——确立一个未来行事原则，才是他们的迫切愿望。

所谓的未来行事原则就是在普天下根植奴隶制，地方性的、无组织的反对休想阻止它的蔓延。现在，如果你们想同意他们这种做法——假如你们想建立这种原则——你们就同意好了。我只能表示遗憾，因为那是你们的权利。相反，如果你们反对这个原则——不愿意承认它——那就别让花言巧语使你们迷失方向，直接投反对票好了。

有些人，绝大部分是辉格党人，他们谴责废除《密苏里妥协案》，但是对其恢复却迟迟不肯表态，唯恐被冠以废奴主义者同党的头衔。能否允许我以一个老辉格党人的身份平心静气地告诫他们，他们这样做是很愚蠢的呢？谁对就拥护谁，谁正确就与他同仇敌忾，谁错误就与他分道扬镳。在《密苏里妥协案》的恢复上与废奴主义者站一起，但如果他试图废除逃奴法，就反对他。在后一种情况下，你们是与南方的脱离主义者为伍。那又怎样？你们仍然是对的。在两种情况下你们都是对的。在两种情况下，你们都在反对危险的极端。在两种情况下，你们都是站在中间的立场上，使得联邦这艘大船平稳航行而不至于倾覆。在两种情况下，你们都是站在民族的立场上，不折不扣是为了民族的利益。这就是优良的老辉格党员的立场。一旦为了怕被卷入某小帮派而放弃这一立场，就算不上辉格党人——算不上一个真正意义的人，更算不上一个真正意义上的美国人。

我尤其反对这样一个所谓的新观点，说什么内布拉斯加法案在国家层面上给了奴隶制一个什么公认的原则意义。我反对这一观点，因为它承认一个人把另一个人变为奴隶在道义上有正确性这种谬论。我反对这一观点，因为这对自由的人民来说是一种危险的调戏——这证明了我们在感觉富足时已忘记了正义——证明了我们已经不再把自由当作原则予以尊重，这是十分可悲的事。我反对这个观点，因为共和国的先辈们对此也是回避和不齿的。他们曾经承认的有利于奴隶制的唯一的论据就是“迫不得已”，这个论据迫使他们走多远，他们就走多远，仅此而已。当时先辈们发现奴隶制已经存在于我们中间，感到无能为力。他们只能怪罪英国国王同意引入奴隶制。在宪法制定之前，先辈们禁止奴隶制进入西北准州——当时我们拥有的唯一一个没有奴隶制的地区。在制定和通过宪法时，先辈们在整部宪法里禁用“奴隶”和“奴隶制”这样的字眼。在有关追索逃奴的条款中，奴隶被称为“为别人担负服务和劳动之人”。在20年内禁止废除非洲奴隶贸易的条款中，奴隶贸易被称为“任一现有各州认为合适准予迁入或入境之人”。这是唯一两条隐含奴隶制的条款。这样，在宪法中奴隶制被隐藏起来，就像个患病之人隐藏了自己的粉瘤或肿瘤一般。因为唯恐流血致死，他不敢立即予以切除，但是期望着某一特定时期一结束就施以切除手术。少于这个我们先辈们不能做，但多于这个我们先辈们又不愿做。“迫不得已”的境况迫使他们在奴隶制这个问题上走了这么远，但是再远他们就不愿做了。但这不是全部，宪制下最早的一届国会在奴隶制问题上持相同观点，他们极力把奴隶制限制在最迫不得已的狭小范围内。

1794年，国会禁止了一项外向型奴隶贸易——即，禁止从合众国带出奴隶去贩卖。

1798年，国会禁止了从非洲把奴隶运入密西西比准州——这个地方包括现在的密西西比州和阿拉巴马州。这比国会有权对实施宪法时即存在的各州做同样的事早了10年。

1800年，国会禁止了美国公民从事外国之间的奴隶贸易——比如说从事非洲与巴西间的奴隶贸易。

1803年，国会通过了一项法令，支持一两个州限制它们内部奴隶贸易的法律。

1807年，国会在显然仓促的情形下，提前近乎一年的时间通过了一项法律，该法律就在1808年的第一天——也就是宪法允许的第一天——开始生效，禁止非洲奴隶贸易，违者将受到经济上和肉体上的惩罚。

1820年，发觉这些法律条款不起作用之后，国会宣布奴隶贸易为海盗行为，并附上了违者处以极刑的处罚。当这一切在联邦政府内获得通过的时候，有五到六个最早的蓄奴州已经通过了逐步解放奴隶的政策，于是奴隶制在这些州内迅速地趋于消亡。

由此我们看到那个时代对待奴隶制的明白无误的时代精神，这就是反对内布拉斯加法案试图确立的原则，对此进行容忍仅仅是因为迫不得已。

但是现在奴役别人就要变成“神圣的权利”了。内布拉斯加把这事提上日程，走上了扩张奴隶制并使之永久化的大道。他们在奴隶制的背上拍了拍，说了声“上路吧，上帝助你！”打这以后，这将成为国宝——国家这艘大船的船首头像。就像人慢慢但是稳步地走向坟墓一样，我们一直在不断地摒弃传统信念，代之以新的观念。大约在80年前我们宣布了人人生来平等；但是现在我们已经跑向另一个宣言，即：一些人奴役另一些人是种神圣的自治权利。这两种原则势不两立，就像上帝和玛蒙一般处于两极，坚持一种原则，势必就要鄙视另一个。当佩蒂特为了支持内布拉斯加法案，说《独立宣言》是“不言自明的谎言”时，他只不过是同其他支持者一样，表现出了一致性与坦率而已。出席听他演讲的40多位支持内布拉斯加法案的参议员没有一人反驳过他。我也没有听说过国内有哪家对此支持的报纸或哪个演说家驳斥过他。假如这话是独立战争时期马里恩手下的人说的，尽管马里恩他们是南方人，说话的人会有什么好下场吗？假如这话是对那些独立战争时期活捉了奸细安德烈的人说的，那么说话者会比安德烈更快地被绞死。假如这话是在78年前的老独立大厅里说的，就连那个看门人也会抓住说话人的脖子，把他给搡到大街上去。

大家不要被蒙骗，76年精神与内布拉斯加精神格格不入。可是前者却正迅速地被后者所取代。

同胞们，无论南方还是北方的美国同胞们，我们难道不应竭力制止这种现象发生么？全世界的自由党人已经明确表示“美国一个倒退的体制正在毁损进步的原则，正在致命地违背着世界迄今为止最开明的政治制度。”这些话不是敌人的恶言，而是朋友的忠告。置之不顾或者嗤之以鼻就可以高枕无忧了么？摒弃早期的革命实践，摒弃我们传统的信条难道对自由本身就没有危险么？为了利益我们贪婪地压榨着黑人，我们可要当心了，以免把白人自己的自由宪章也“销毁殆尽”。

我们共和国的长袍已沾染了泥污，在灰尘中拖曳。让我们重新把它洗干净吧。让我们用独立革命的精神，即使用不着独立革命的鲜血把它里里外外洗白。让我们把奴隶制从所谓的“合乎道义”转回到合乎现存法理上去吧；回到它的“迫不得已”的存在理据上去吧。让奴隶制回到我们先辈们给它规定的位置上去；让它安静地待在那里。让我们重新启用《独立宣言》以及与其和谐一致的实践理论和政策。让南方和北方——让所有的美国人——让全国各地所有热爱自由的人都参加到这项伟大而高尚的事业中来。一旦这样，不仅联邦得救，而且还使得联邦值得并永久值得挽救。我们挽救联邦，接下去普天下上百万的自由幸福的人将会站起来，称颂我们世世代代有福。

12年前在斯普林菲尔德，我说过了实质上与现在所说的相同的话，道格拉斯法官对此也做了回应——由于他也将在这里对我做出答复，我就抢先一步吧，在此谈谈他先前在斯普林菲尔德提出的论点。

他开始说我一贯认定内布拉斯加法案的原则有扩张奴隶制的效果，然后他否认该法案有此意图的，或者说否认该法案会有这个效果。

我不会就这个观点重新展开讨论，对于这个法案原则的意图性，全世界的人从一开始就相信是这样，而且会一直如此相信的。这就是这件事情的真实面目，无论是朋友还是敌人都能立即认出。那个真实面目是不可能通过狡辩所改变的，就像你不能离开黑人的皮肤去狡辩其皮肤的颜色。就像你那沾满“血腥的手”，你可以洗了又洗，可那红色的罪证仍旧附在那里，可怕地盯着你看。

接着他说，国会的干预从来没有阻止过哪个地方的奴隶制——说在西北部地区没有阻止过，在伊利诺伊也没有——说实际上，伊利诺伊是以蓄奴州的身份加入联邦的——还说内布拉斯加法案的原则从伊利诺伊驱除了奴隶制，从几个老的州里驱除了奴隶制，从所有的地方驱除了奴隶制。

这是彻头彻尾的狡辩。如果1787年法令没有从西北准州排除了奴隶制，那么俄亥俄河西北岸怎么可能完全没有奴隶制？还有，相距不到一英里的该河东南岸几乎纵贯其整个长度的区域却全部是奴隶制呢？

如果1787年法令没有从伊利诺伊排除奴隶制，那是什么使得伊利诺伊和密苏里产生如此差别呢？两州并排挨着，密西西比河仅仅从中相隔，并且两州的早期的定居者分散在相同的纬度。1810年和1820年间，密苏里的奴隶数目增长了7211名；而伊利诺伊在相同的十年里却减了51名。人口统计表上是这么写的。在那近乎整个十年当中，两地都是准州——还不是正式的州。此间，1797年法令禁止奴隶制进入伊利诺伊，可是没什么禁止奴隶制进入密苏里。奴隶制的确是进入了密苏里，而的确没有进入伊利诺伊。那是事实，难道还有人怀疑个中的缘由么？

但是，道格拉斯法官说，伊利诺伊是作为蓄奴州进入联邦的。对于这种明显与该地区已知的历史相矛盾的说法的最好回答或许就是沉默。如此大胆地断言是基于何种历史事实呢？1787年当我们第一次获得这块土地时，里面有一些奴隶，是卡斯卡齐亚的法国居民蓄养的。当时的州议会允许少量来自自由州的黑人作为契约仆人进入其中。在第一部州宪法通过之后一年的光景，这些契约仆人的总数——你们猜猜有多少？——刚好117——而自由民总数已达55094名——大约是470:1的比例。基于这种事实，该州人民修订了宪法，禁止奴隶制进一步进入，给那些签约仆人的主人某种担保，让那些签约仆人以后的子女获得自由，这根本没提及所谓的终身奴隶之说。就是根据这件小事，我们的法官杜撰了伊利诺伊是以蓄奴州的身份进入联邦的谬论。就让这些事实来回应法官先生的观点吧。

法官先生说，是内布拉斯加法案的原则将奴隶制逐出了伊利诺伊？该法案的原则首先把奴隶制根植在这儿——也就是说，奴隶制最初进入是因为没有法律去阻止它——最初进入时我们还没有拥有这块土地。是我们的人民在这儿发现奴隶制才制定1787年法令阻止它进一步发展，并一直为之而努力抗争，最后尽全力消灭了奴隶制。

但是内布拉斯加法案的原则在几个老州废除了奴隶制。的确，在上世纪的最后25年，是有几个老州采取了逐渐解放奴隶的措施，奴隶制最终也是在那些地方销声匿迹了。但是说内布拉斯加法案是触发这些消灭奴隶制的措施的诱因或许属实，也或许言过其实。最后一个老州采取努力解放措施至今已有50多年了。如果内布拉斯加法案真是这些善事的真正缔造者的话，那么它在这么长时间完全停止其作用了还怪可悲的。难道没有什么理由让人觉得是独立革命的原则而非内布拉斯加法案的原则促使那些老州的奴隶制解放？要让那些实行奴隶制解放措施的老州人民来评定的话，我完全相信，他们会认为无论奴隶解放这件事还是别的什么善事，过去不是，将来也不是内布拉斯加法案的成果。

在我陈述主要观点时，道格拉斯法官打断过我的话，说内布拉斯加法案的原则非常古老，起源于上帝造人之时。那时上帝在人面前放置了善与恶，让人去选择，并要人对他的选择承担责任。当时我认为道格拉斯法官只是开开玩笑，我也就相应地以玩笑作答。但在这一次对我的答复中他又一次提及，并作为一个严肃的论据。严肃就严肃吧，这个说法的事实并非所说的那样。上帝并没有把善与恶放在人面前让他选择。相反，上帝的确告诉人有一棵果树，上面的果实不能吃，否则就会痛苦致死。我倒不指望在内布拉斯加以这种强烈的方式禁止奴隶制。

但是，这个观点还有另一特色给我留下的印象比较深刻——这个特色就是它与“君权神授”这个古老的观点十分相似。根据后者，君主只需对上帝负责，可以随心所欲地处理其白人臣民；根据前者，白人只需对上帝负责，可以随心所欲地处置其黑人奴隶。这两件事十分相似，很自然他们会找到相似的论据来支撑自己。

我说过，运用争得的自治原则将会导致非洲奴隶贸易的恢复——这既是一个支持把奴隶带往内布拉斯加的权利的论据，同样也是支持把奴隶从非洲海岸运来的权利的论据。道格拉斯法官回答说，宪法要求遏制奴隶制，但没有要求在准州内禁止奴隶制。这是不正确的，不符合事实。无论哪种情况，宪法都没有要求国会采取行动，但宪法是授权国会了。因此，两种情形还是没有啥区别。

就我所说的蓄奴州比自由州在代表人数方面占优势这个观点，道格拉斯法官答复说，在自由州，五名自由黑人算作五名白人。而在蓄奴州，五名奴隶仅算作三名白人，所以说到底，优势还是在自由州一方。

在蓄奴州，他们是和我们一样计算自由黑人的。还有，除了奴隶之外，他们和我们一样还有很多自由黑人，比我们多33000名。这样他们的自由黑人比我们还多。由于他们还有奴隶，所以正如同我所说的那样，优势还是在他们那一边。

我认为1850年的那些妥协案是一系列等同物，这些妥协案没有一个条款可以合适地转用于其他对象，除非相应的等同物一并转移。对此法官先生给予全部否定，认为这些妥协案之间没有任何联系，也没有任何依存关系。这简直是不顾事实的乱扯。如果它们没有联系，那为什么总是被连带提出？为什么他也把它们连带提出无数次？为什么他也一贯称它们为一系列的妥协案？为什么人人都把它们称作一个妥协案？要不是与其他妥协案有牵连，为什么加利福尼亚一直被排除在联邦之外达六到七个月之久。韦氏字典给动词“妥协”的头条定义就是“通过各方互让达成的共同协议调节和解决分歧”。这精确传达了人们对妥协这个词的普遍理解。在法官先生告诉我们之前我们就知道，这些妥协案是在不同的议案里面分别通过的，其中没有任何两个议案是由完全相同一些的议员投票通过的。我们也知道，他也知道，若不是仰仗还有别的议案要通过的默契，这些妥协案中没有一个可以在国会两院同时通过。基于这个默契，每一个妥协案都获得投票得以通过，除此之外，别无他法。就是这个事实，使得这些妥协案有了自己真实的内涵，也就是基于对这个事实的普遍理解，才使得这些措施获得如此能表现其真实内涵的妥协案之名称。

我曾经问过道格拉斯法官：“如果把犹他和新墨西哥法案条款转移到内布拉斯加，你可以消除别人的反对，但你如何就能在内布拉斯加还是个准州、没有建立自己的宪法之前，就让她‘完全自由’地引进奴隶制呢？——而犹他和新墨西哥法案是在建立自己的宪法并被准入联邦之时才赋予它们这个权力的。”对此，道格拉斯法官回答说，犹他和新墨西哥法案也是之前就赋予它们这个权力的，为此，他还从它们的法案中读出下面一条：“所涉准州的立法权力将推广到所有正当的立法对象，只要这些对象与合众国宪法和该法案的条款相一致。”

从上面所读的可以推出，对于立法对象问题没有任何明文规定：立法权力也仅仅有含蓄所指，因为仅有泛泛的条款“一切正当的立法对象”。对此，我坚持认为，作为一个合法条款和普通民众对此的普遍看法，犹他和新墨西哥在建立宪法时带奴隶制进入联邦所选择的明确条款，应该排除就同一立法对象的所有隐含权力——国会在作出该明确规定时，心中应该有个明确的立法对象，借此规定把这个立法对象的全部意义都表达出来。

法官还进一步绕着弯说我出于权宜之便故意忘却1853年通过的华盛顿准州法案。该法案规定从俄勒冈北部划出一部分，作为华盛顿准州。借此他就断言，俄勒冈当时还存在着的1787年法令因而也就被废除，说从马萨诸塞的查尔斯·艾伦到伊利诺伊的理查德·耶茨，几乎所有的国会议员对此法案都投了赞成票。还说他不明白，为何现在反对内布拉斯加法案的那些人当时却投了赞成票，除非就是当时的两大政党都批准了1850年的系列妥协案，批准之举仍历历在目，不便立刻废除之。

由于我以前看到过华盛顿法案，那以后我也仔细研究过，因此我断言里面没有废除1787年法令，也没有任何禁止奴隶制的规定。

说得更直白点，整个法案关于这个问题没有任何规定——事实上，法案里没有任何东西会让读者想到这个问题。按照我的判断，法案里也没有什么隐含的东西说要废除1787年法令。但这或许是从隐晦的语言里提取出来的。难道人们现在易被法律的隐含义所蒙骗，在此或许就是被意在引其入套的目的所误导么？我真心希望每个人都能彻底读一读这部法令，仔细研读每一句每一行，看看里面有没有废除1787年法令或任何类似的东西。

就华盛顿法案来说还有一点。假如该法案如道格拉斯法官所言有意识模仿犹他和新墨西哥法案的话，那它为何不像后两个法案那样，就在里面注明：在华盛顿通过其州法律时就可以选择带奴隶制或不带奴隶制进入联邦呢？华盛顿法案里没有这样的条款。我敢断定，该法案聪明的制定者们对此省略的唯一原因就是：该法案在奴隶制问题上本没有效仿犹他和新墨西哥法案的意图。

不仅华盛顿法案与犹他和新墨西哥法案有显著区别，内布拉斯加法案同两者的区别也是显著的。按照内布拉斯加法案，人民“完全自由地”管理他们自己的内部事务，但是前面的几个法案都得提交给国会，如果国会不通过，所有的皆无效。而华盛顿法案走得更远，它以强有力和谨慎的语言，绝对禁止准州立法以设定银行或以准州的信用办理借款。这就是我们听到的被大肆吹捧的神圣的自治权利么？不是的，法官先生，内布拉斯加法案不是以1850年的什么法案或华盛顿法案为蓝本的。它并非以从亚当到当今的任何法案为蓝本。像菲利普所说的拿破仑，内布拉斯加法案是伟大的、阴暗的和与众不同的。它拥有举世无双的独创性，没有范本，在地球上连个影子都没有。

道格拉斯参议员在对我的答复中说道：实质上他一向认为这个政府是为白人而非黑人所建立的。单从事实上看，我也是这么认为的。但是，法官的话里有层含义，这层含义是他在内布拉斯加法案问题上犯错误（如果有错误的话）的关键。迹象表明，法官先生对黑人是人这个事实没有非常明确的印象，相应地他也不知道对于黑人的立法有何道义问题。按照这个观点，一个新的地区是实行奴隶制还是自由州，就像法官邻家的农场里是种烟草还是圈养带角的牲畜一样，完全是件无关紧要的事。现在，这个观点对也好，错也好，反正相当部分民众抱有完全不同的观点是肯定的。他们认为奴隶制在道义上是个极大的错误，而且他们对奴隶制的反感不是暂时的，而是永久的。这种反感以他们的正义感为基础，是不能随随便便就应付过去的。这是广大民众行动的一个伟大而持久的因素，我认为没有哪个政治家能泰然地置之不顾。

对于那些在这个法案上反对他的人相互之间意见也并不完全统一这个说法，我们的道格拉斯议员也反对。他提醒道，在我顽强坚持蓄奴州宪法权利中，我和与我合作反对内布拉斯加法案的那些人有很大的不同。他还说，用这么多方式来反对他是不公平的。他应该记得他在这个法案上使我们吃惊——使我们大惊失色。我们当时如雷灌顶，呆若木鸡。我们一阵晕眩，完全一筹莫展。但是，我们一个个奋起给予回击，抓住一切可以在第一时间够得着的东西——镰刀——草叉——板斧，或是屠夫的切肉刀。循着声音传来的方向，我们迅速对其形成合围。他甭想用花言巧语使我们偏离目的，甭想说我们的操练、我们的穿着打扮和我们的武器并不完美和统一。风暴一旦过去，他将发现我们仍然是美国人，对永久的联邦的忠贞依然如故，对我们家园的永久繁荣依旧一往情深。

最后，道格拉斯法官又招来克莱和韦伯斯特的亡灵来反对我。他俩是伟人，是有伟大贡献之人。但我哪里攻击过他们了？为什么他们的终生敌人现在却来利用他们、假借保卫他们来攻击我——他们的终生朋友？我反对废除《密苏里妥协案》，难道他们就曾经同意过？他们同意1850年妥协案，难道我就反对过？他们对联邦忠心耿耿，我虽才疏学浅，难道我不也是殚精竭虑？克莱和韦伯斯特在内布拉斯加法案问题产生之前就离开人世，我们的道格拉斯参议员凭什么就说他们若是活着就会站在他那一边支持他呢？克莱先生是《密苏里妥协案》的主创者，现在说如果他活着他就会率先违背它，这可信吗？真实情况是，道格拉斯法官现在是迫切需要辉格党的支持的，由此他提出了克莱和韦伯斯特的名字以乞求帮助。道格拉斯法官的老朋友们已经弃他而去了，数目之多，已经使其难以为继了。他来求助于他的自己人，可他的自己人没有接受。瞧！他现在向外人求助了。

我还想说一句，道格拉斯法官武断地说1850年的系列妥协案间没有联系，还说伊利诺伊是作为蓄奴州加入联邦的等等诸如此类的话，是对我国历史的公然否定。如果我们不知道1850年的系列妥协案是相互依存的，如果我们不知道伊利诺伊是作为自由州加入联邦的，那我们什么都不知道。如果这些都不知道，那我们就不知道我们曾经还有过独立革命，或者不知道还有过华盛顿这样的领袖。否认这些事就是否定我们的国家原则，或者至少是信条，让所有的争论归于终结。如果一个人硬要一而再再而三地坚持说二加二不等于四，我就不知道还有什么道理可以奈何他了。只要道格拉斯法官不离开这些前提，我想我是能够答复他的。可是他一旦离开这些个前提，我也不能把道理变成一串串布头，堵住他的嘴。这样我所能做的就只能是把他托付给刚刚从宾夕法尼亚、俄亥俄和印第安纳诸州寄来的7万封答辩信了。

在伊利诺伊州斯普林菲尔德发表的“开裂的房子”的演说

1858年6月16日

紧接下面的演说发表于1858年6月16日举行的共和党州代表大会的闭幕式上，地点是伊利诺伊州的斯普林菲尔德。本次大会上林肯先生被提名为合众国参议员的候选人。

道格拉斯参议员不在演说现场。

主席先生和出席会议的各位先生们：

如果我们能首先知道身处何处和去向何方，我们就能更好地判断该做何事，以及采取何种方法去完成此事。

我们实施一项政策已到第5个年头了，该政策公开宣布了目标，并作出信心十足的承诺，决心结束奴隶制造成的动荡局面。

可是，在执行该项政策过程中，动荡的局面不仅没有结束，反而愈演愈烈。

在我看来，非要降临一场危机，待危机过去后，动荡才会平息。

“一所开裂的房子是支撑不下去的。”

所以我认为半奴隶半自由状态下的政府是不会维持多久的。

我不期望联邦解体——我不期望联邦这座大厦坍塌——但是我真切期望它将停止分裂。

要么它全部变成一种东西，要么它全部变成另一种东西。

要么是奴隶制的反对者们会遏制奴隶制的进一步扩张，把奴隶制放到一个让广大民众相信会最终灭绝的进程中；要么是奴隶制的拥护者们把奴隶制继续向前推进，让它在联邦所有的州，无论南北和新旧各州里都同样合法。

难道我们没有向后一种情况倾斜吗？

让每个怀疑的人仔细想想，由内布拉斯加法案建立的原则和德雷德·斯格特判决两者之间这个近乎完整的司法合体——可以称之为一台机器。让他不仅想想这台机器是派作什么用场，想想是怎么派上好用场的，还要让他研究一下这台机器建造的历史。可能的话（确切地说他是做不到的），可能的话，让他去从源头、从负责建造这台机器的头头们那里探究一下，看能否探寻到这台机器的设计以及头头们一致行动的证据。

1854年元旦，奴隶制被一半以上的州的州宪法排除在外，并由国会禁令也排除在大多数的准州之外。

四天以后，争斗开始，结果就是国会禁令的废除。

于是，大门打开，所有的合众国准州都向奴隶制开放。奴隶制拥护者的第一个目的已达到。

但是，到那时为止，只有国会采取了行动。要巩固已达之目的，并争取更多的机会，民众真实的或场面上的认可还是必不可少的。

这个必要性不是被忽视，而是被尽可能地以“人民主权”、或称“神圣的自治权”这个冠冕堂皇的论点加以包装。后一个短语“神圣的自治权利”，尽管很清楚是所有政府的唯一的合法基础，但却在此处被歪曲滥用，以致其意思竟为：任何一个人，如选择役使另一个人使之成为奴隶，任何第三方不得干涉。

这个论点是包含在内布拉斯加法案之中的，运用的语言如下：本法案的真正目的和意义在于不以立法使奴隶制进入任何一个准州或州，也不将奴隶制从那里排除出去；而是让那里的人民完全自由地以他们自己的方式建立和管理他们的内部制度，只受合众国宪法所制约。

于是，支持“人民主权”和“神圣的自治权利”的雄辩之词从此一发不可收拾。

“但是”，法案的反对者们说：“让我们说得更具体些吧，让我们把议案修正一下，明确地宣布准州人民可以把奴隶制排除出去。”“我们不这么认为，”法案的支持者们说，于是他们就把修正案给否决了。

当内布拉斯加法案提交国会通过时，一个涉及黑人自由的诉讼案也同时在密苏里区的美国巡回法院审理。这个黑人的主人自愿先把他带入一个自由州，然后又把他带入一个国会禁令管辖的准州，长时间在每一个州里都把他当作奴隶使用。内布拉斯加法案和该黑人诉讼案都在1854年5月这一个月内得出裁决。诉讼案中的黑人名字叫“德雷德·斯格特”，该名字现在就指代当时该诉讼案的最终裁决结果。

在当时的下一届总统选举之前，该诉讼案进入联邦最高法院并在那里进行了辩论；但是辩论的结果延迟到选举结束才公布。还有，在大选前，特朗布尔参议员在参议院要求内布拉斯加法案的主要鼓吹者谈谈他的看法：一个准州的民众是否能按照宪法把奴隶制排除在准州范围之外。这位鼓吹者回答说：“这个问题要由最高法院来裁决。”

大选举行了。布坎南先生当选为总统。于是，奴隶制拥护者获得所需要的认可。第二个目的达到了。然而，要达到大多数人认可大概还缺40万票，因而，认可度还不是绝对可靠和令人满意的。

即将离任的总统，在他最后的年度咨文中以最深刻的语言，向民众强调了民众认可的分量和权威性。

最高法院又一次开庭，没有宣布他们的辩论结果，但是决定还要再作一次辩论。

总统就职典礼举行了，最高法院仍旧没有给出最终结果，但是即将上任的总统在他的就职演说中热忱地劝诫民众，要尊重最高法院行将出台的决定，无论决定是什么模样。

于是，几天之后，最高法院公布了最终裁决。

声名鹊起的内布拉斯加法案的作者早早地找了机会，在国会发表了演说，对德雷德·斯格特判决表示赞同，同时也猛烈抨击所有反对该判决的行为。

新任总统也早早抓住了西利曼书信的契机对此表示认可，有力地识解了最高法院作出的决定，并对人们所持的不同看法表示了惊讶。

最后总统与内布拉斯加法案的制造者道格拉斯法官之间发生了小小的争执，争执仅仅源于一个事实问题，即：勒孔顿宪法到底是还是不是堪萨斯人民所建立的。争吵中，后者宣布，他所要的一切就是为民众举行一次公平投票，不在乎奴隶制最终被否决还是被通过。我弄不明白道格拉斯法官宣布的他不在乎奴隶制最终是被否决还是被通过的说法，觉得他的真实用意其实就是想把他主张的奴隶政策在民众的心里给一个恰当的定义——他宣称为这个原则已经承受了很多苦，而且还准备承受到底。

道格拉斯法官或许会很好地坚持这个原则。如果他有父亲般的感情，他就会很好地坚持这个原则。该原则是他首创的内布拉斯加主义仅存的一丁点残骸。德雷德·斯格特判决让“人民主权”不复存在，像临时的脚手架一样坍塌了——像铸造厂的模具一样，用了一下就扔回松软的沙子里——帮助了一回选举就被弃之不顾。法案首创者在后来与共和党人联手反对勒孔顿宪法的斗争丝毫不涉及原来的内布拉斯加主义。那次斗争有一个基点，就是民众有权制定自己的宪法，在这个基点上他和共和党人从来就没有过分歧。

德雷德·斯格特判决中有几点，连同道格拉斯参议员的“不在意”政策，构成了这台机器目前的发展态势。奴隶制拥护者的第三个目的达到了。

这台机器现在的工作要点如下：

第一，非洲运来的所有黑人奴隶及其后代，均不得以合众国宪法所使用的公民的名义成为任何州的公民。

强调这一点的目的旨在尽可能地剥夺奴隶享有合众国宪法如下条款所规定的权益：

“每州公民均被赋予各州公民享有的所有优惠待遇和豁免权。”

第二，“受合众国宪法约束”，国会和任何准州议会无权把奴隶制排除在任何一个准州之外。

强调这一点旨在让个人可以在各准州塞满奴隶，而无丧失奴隶的危险，这样便加强了奴隶制在整个未来的永久性。

第三，在一个自由州但却实际拥有奴隶的情况下，是否使奴隶脱离其主人而获得自由，不是由合众国法院裁决，而是由黑人的主人把他强行带入的蓄奴州法院裁决。

强调这一点倒不是立即使之予以推行，而是一旦对这第三种情况默认了一段时间，并由民众通过选举在表面上予以认可，那么就可以用来支撑这样一个逻辑结论：德雷德·斯格特的主人能在伊利诺伊自由州合法地对德雷德·斯格特所做的事，别的任何奴隶主就可以在伊利诺伊州或其他任何自由州，对一个甚至一千个奴隶合法地做同样的事。

辅助这一切并与之协同起作用的是内布拉斯加主义，或者该主义所残存的东西。其目的就是教育和塑造公众舆论，至少是北方的舆论，让民众不要在意奴隶制是被投票否决还是获得投票通过。

这就精确地表明了我们目前的处境，而且也部分地表明了我们的未来去向。

回首过去，重新回顾一下已述的一系列历史事实，会让我们对上述的未来去向有更多的了解。现在，有几件事情已经不像它们初现时那么隐晦和神秘了。民众将获得“完全自由”并“只受宪法约束”。宪法与民众自由到底是什么关系，局外人那时那刻是看不出来的。但现在是再清楚不过了，宪法就是一个大小精确的壁龛，后来的德雷德·斯科特裁决供了进去，由此可以宣布民众的完全自由其实就是根本没有自由。

为什么那个明确表达民众有权消除奴隶制的修正案被否决了呢？现在再清楚不过了，一旦修正案通过，它就会破坏供奉德雷德·斯格特裁决的壁龛。

为什么高院的裁决迟迟出不了台？为什么就连一位参议员的意见也被悬置到总统大选之后？现在也再清楚不过了，因为要是那时说出来的话，就会把总统选举所基于的那个“完全自由”的理论给毁损了。

为什么那位即将离任的总统要庆贺民众的认可？为什么对斯格特案进行重新辩论受到延迟？为什么即将上任的总统预先告诫民众支持高院所作的斯格特裁决？

所有这一切看上去像是小心谨慎地拍打着、抚摸着一匹烈马，以防在准备骑坐时让它受惊，使骑马人摔落马下。

为什么在总统和其他人认可了斯格特裁决后又有了小小的争论呢？

我们不是那么绝对有把握所有这一切的精确安排都是预先协商好了的。但是，当我们看到大批大批加工过的木料，各不同部分都是由不同时间和不同地点的工人完成的——比如由斯蒂芬、富兰克林、罗杰和詹姆士等人完成，当我们看到这些木料拼合在一起，看到它们恰好能搭建一所房子或一间磨坊，所有的榫头和榫眼都精确地衔接，所有不同木料的长短和比例都精确地各就各位，不多也不少——甚至连脚手架也是如此，或者，即使哪里落下一块，我们也能发现在框架里正好有个位置预备着能放进这块木料——在这种情形下，我们要不相信斯蒂芬、富兰克林、罗杰和詹姆士他们从一开始就心照不宣都难，我们不得不相信他们从开始准备木料的第一斧就早已拟定了共同的计划或共同的草案。

不应该忽视的是，根据内布拉斯加法案，州和准州的人民一样，“完全自由”，“仅仅受宪法约束”。为什么要提到州？他们是在为准州立法，不是在为州也不是为涉及州的事务而立法。诚然，一个州的民众当然是，而且理应是受《合众国宪法》的约束的。但为什么生拉硬扯地扯到专门为准州所立的法律上去了呢？为什么要把一个准州的民众和一个州的民众搅和到一起去，然后把它们跟宪法的关系就看作完全一样的呢？

当坦尼首席法官在斯格特诉讼案中宣布高院的意见，以及所有表示赞同的法官各自发表的意见，都明确地宣称《合众国宪法》既不允许国会，也不允许准州议会将奴隶制排除在合众国准州之外时，他们都遗漏了是否同一部宪法允许一个州或一个州的人民将奴隶制排除在本州之外。

或许这只是一种疏忽，但谁能保证，如果麦克莱恩和柯蒂斯当初试图在意见里加上一条，说一个州的民众有无限的权利将奴隶制排除在他们的范围之外，就像蔡斯和梅斯一样，代表一个准州的民众试图把这一条加入内布拉斯加法案——我问问，在这种情形下谁能担保它不会被否决，就像在后者被否决一样？

就宣布一个州有权决定奴隶制问题，最近的措施是由纳尔逊法官提出来的。他不止一次使用内布拉斯加法案同样的思想，而且几乎也是同样的语言谈这个问题。有一次他精确地说了这样一句话：“除非是受到《合众国宪法》的约束，否则州法律在其司法管辖范围内对于奴隶制问题的权力是至高无上的。”

至于在什么情况下州的权力受《合众国宪法》所限制，这是一个悬而未决的问题，恰恰如同对准州的权力限制在内布拉斯加法案里悬而未决一样。彼此一结合，我们又有了一个精致的壁龛，不久，我们就能看到壁龛里会放进高院的又一个裁决，宣称《合众国宪法》不允许州将奴隶制排除在其范围之外。

而且，一旦所谓的“不要在意奴隶制是被投票否决还是获得投票通过”的歪理获得公众舆论的足够支持，使得上述的裁决一旦被作出，便会得到公众的支持，那么，这种情况就尤其指日可待了。

这样的裁决就是，奴隶制现在缺少的就是在所有的州里都同样合法。

欢迎也罢，不欢迎也罢，这样的裁决或许即将到来，不久就会加到我们的头上，除非当今的政治王朝受到挑战，并被推翻。

我们若躺下来做个美梦，梦见密苏里的人民即将使他们的州获得自由，然而，醒来时我们却会发现，最高法院已经把伊利诺伊变成了一个蓄奴州了。

挑战并推翻这个王朝的权力，现在就是摆在所有那些想防止这种裁决出现的人面前的工作。

这就是我们现在不得不做的工作。

但是我们如何才能把这项工作做到最好呢？

有些人在他们的朋友面前公然抨击我们，但却在私下里同我们柔声蜜语，说道格拉斯参议员是现有的最合适的实现这个工作目标的人。这些人没有告诉我们他希望要实现这样的工作目标，他本人也没有。这些人希望我们自己从一些事实中去推断，事实是他眼下同这个王朝的现任头头有个小小的争吵，另外他常常在某个与我们从未有过分歧的问题上和我们一起投过票。

这些人提醒我们说，他是一个伟大的人物，还说我们中的大多数都是非常渺小之人。渺小就渺小吧。反正“活着的狗比死了的狮子更强悍”。道格拉斯法官对于他的工作来说，即使不是死了的狮子，至少也是关在笼子里掉光了牙齿的狮子。他怎么能够阻止奴隶制的前进呢？他对奴隶制何去何从根本不在意啊。他公开表示的使命是“影响公众心情”，让他们对奴隶制不闻不问啊。

一份亲道格拉斯民主党的骨干报纸认为，抵制非洲奴隶贸易的复活非得需要道格拉斯的卓越才能。

道格拉斯认为一种恢复奴隶贸易的力量正在积聚吗？他没说过啊。他果真这么认为么？即使是这样，他又如何能抵挡得了呢？多年来他处心积虑，想证明把黑人奴隶带入新的准州是白人的一种神圣的权利。他能证明从最便宜的地方去买奴隶就不怎么算是一种神圣的权利了吗？还有，毫无疑问，在非洲买奴隶的价格比在弗吉尼亚更便宜。

道格拉斯法官已经竭尽权能，欲把整个奴隶制问题缩小为一种简单的财产权。既然如此，他如何就能反对国外奴隶贸易——他如何就能拒绝那样的贸易？因为“财产权”是“完全自由”的啊——除非，除非他把这种拒绝当作对国内奴隶产业的保护？鉴于国内奴隶生产者很可能不请求这种保护，那他将会完全失去反对的借口。

我们知道，道格拉斯法官坚持认为一个人今天理应比昨天更聪明——他发现自己错了理应可以改正错误。

但是，我们能就凭这个原因向前冲么，凭此就推断他能做出一些连他自己都没做什么暗示的特别的改变么？我们就能安心地把我们的行动搭建在这样不切实际的推断上么？

现在同过去一样，我不愿肆意曲解道格拉斯法官的立场，怀疑他的动机，或者做什么对他个人有冒犯的事。

无论何时，他和我们原则上都能走到一起，使我们伟大的事业能受益于他的伟大才能。但我希望走到一起不会有什么外来的障碍。

但是很明显，他现在没有和我们在一起——他连装也没有装一下——他从来就没有承诺和我们走到一起。

那么，我们的事业必须托付给它自己坚定的盟友，由他们来完成——他们的双手是自由的，他们的心也是专注的——这些人确实在意事业的最终结果。

两年前，全国130多万共和党人已经聚集到了一起。

我们聚集到一起是出于抵抗共同的危险这一单纯目的，共同抵抗一切不利于我们的外部环境。

我们从四面八方陌生、不和谐、甚至是敌对的环境中走来，聚集到一起，迎着一支纪律严明，狂妄自大、骄横跋扈的敌人，把战斗进行到底。

过去我们英勇顽强，现在——现在——当同样的敌人在犹豫、分裂、叫阵的时候，我们反而却踯躅不前了么？

结果是肯定无疑的。我们不会失败——如果我们坚强不屈，我们就不会失败。

正确的建议会加速胜利的到来，错误的建议只会延迟胜利的进程。但是，胜利迟早肯定会到来的。

在纽约市库珀学院的演说

1860年2月27日

总统先生、纽约的市民们：

今晚我要说的主要都是些大家熟悉的事实，我用这些事实也没有任何新的用意。如果真要说什么新意的话，新就新在呈现事实的方式上，接着就是随后的推断和评述。

据《纽约时报》报道，去年秋在俄亥俄的哥伦布，道格拉斯参议员在他的演讲中说：

“我们的先辈们，在架构我们当下沐浴其中的政体时，他们比我们现在对这个问题的理解不仅不比我们差，甚至比我们更透彻。”

我完全赞同这种说法，于是我就在此引用了这句话，我之所以这样，是因为在共和党人与道格拉斯参议员领衔的那一派民主党人之间的争论中，这句话是公认的精确的起点。只是，人们不禁要问：“对于所提的问题，我们的先辈们的理解是怎样的呢？”

我们当下的政体是怎样的架构呢？

回答一定是：《合众国的宪法》。本宪法由1787年的原始法部分（当前的政府就是基于这部分宪法开始运作的），加上后来的12部宪法修正案所构成，其中的10部修正案是1789年通过的。

那些制定宪法的先辈们是哪些人呢？我认为那些签署了原始宪法部分的那“39人”可以有资格被称为我们的先辈，就是他们建立了我们现行部分的政府。几乎同样可以说是他们建立了政府，完全也可以说他们有资格代表当时全国人民的心声。我们几乎所有的人都熟悉并接触到他们的名字，在此就毋庸赘述了。

我现在就把这“39”个人作为“我们沐浴其中的政体的先行缔造者”。

那么，根据这段引文，我们那些先辈们理解的“不仅不比我们差，甚至比我们更透彻”的问题是什么呢？

问题就是：地方政府与中央政府的权力的合适划分，或者宪法中的某些规定，能否禁止我们的联邦政府在我们联邦的土地上控制奴隶制呢？

就这个问题，道格拉斯参议员持肯定态度，而共和党人则持否定态度。这一正一反便构成了争执。这个争执——这个问题——就是上述引文中所宣称的先辈们的理解“比我们更透彻”的那个问题。

现在我们想问问这“39”人，或他们当中的任何人，就这个问题有没有过行动。或者说，即使有了行动，他们是如何行动的——他们是如何表达他们的更透彻的了解的呢？

1784年，宪法建立前三年——合众国当时只拥有西北部准州的土地，此外并不拥有其他土地，当时联邦议会就面临着在那块土地上禁止奴隶制的问题。后来建立宪法当中的“39”人有四个当时在议会里，就这个问题投了票。他们当中的罗杰·舍曼，托马斯·米夫林和休斯·威廉姆森三人投了赞成票。因此就显示出，在他们的理解中，地方和联邦政府的划分界线没有理由、其他任何东西也没有理由禁止联邦政府在联邦土地上控制奴隶制。这四人中的另一个，也就是詹姆士·麦克亨利——投了反对票，表明了由于某种原因，他认为投赞成票不合适。

1787年，也还是在宪法制定以前，不过当时制宪会议正在着手建立宪法，当东北准州还是合众国仅有的一块土地时，这片土地的禁奴问题又一次摆在联邦议会面前；后来签署法律的那“39”人又有两个进入了议会，就这个问题进行投票。这两人是威廉·布朗特和威廉·费尤，而且两人都投了赞成票——因此，这就显示出他们的理解，地方和联邦政府的划分界线没有理由、其他任何东西也没有理由禁止联邦政府在联邦土地上控制奴隶制。这一次，联邦有权禁止的规定变成了法律，变成了现在闻名四方的1787年法令不可分割的一部分。

联邦在这些地区对奴隶制的控制问题似乎没有直接摆到最初建立宪法的制宪会议里面，因而没有记载说那“39”人，或者他们中的任何人，在制定宪法时就这个问题本身表达过任何观点。

1789年，《联邦宪法》下的第一届议会通过了一个法案，执行1787年法令，包括在西北部地区禁止奴隶制。该法案的议案是由那“39”人之一，托马斯·菲茨西蒙斯提交的，他当时是一名参议员，来自宾夕法尼亚。该议案毫无阻拦地通过了各个程序，最终通过了两院，没有赞成票和反对票，等同于全体一致通过。在这一届议会中，制定最初宪法的39位先辈有16人。他们是约翰·朗顿、尼古拉斯·吉尔曼、威廉·S．约翰逊、罗杰·舍曼、罗伯特·莫里斯、托马斯·菲茨西蒙斯、威廉·费尤、亚伯拉罕·鲍德温、鲁弗斯·金、威廉·帕特森、乔治·克莱默、理查德·巴斯特、乔治·里德、皮尔斯·巴特勒、丹尼尔·卡罗尔、詹姆士·麦迪逊。

这就表明，在他们的理解中，地方和联邦政府的划分不能、宪法中也没有什么规定能阻止议会在联邦土地上禁止奴隶制。此外，就是他们对原则的忠诚和对支持宪法的誓言，也会约束他们，让他们反对阻止议会禁止奴隶制的权力。

再有就是乔治·华盛顿，“39”位中的另一位，就是当时的合众国总统，他同样认可并签署了该议案。因此，议案就获得了法律的效力，也因此就表明，在总统的理解中，地方和联邦政府的划分不能、宪法中也没有什么规定能阻止联邦政府在联邦土地上控制奴隶制。

最初的宪法通过之后不太久，北卡罗来纳就把现在构成田纳西州的土地割让给了联邦政府；几年后佐治亚州把现在构成密西西比州和阿拉巴马州的土地割让给了联邦。两次割让中，让出州都提出条件，那就是联邦政府不应在割让的土地上禁止奴隶制。此外，奴隶制实际上已经存在于割让的土地上。在这些条件下，接管这些地区的国会并没有在这些地区绝对禁止奴隶制。但是，国会在那些地区确实干涉了奴隶制，并在一定程度上控制了奴隶制。1798年，国会组建了密西西比准州。在组建法令中，通过罚款和释放所带奴隶为惩罚手段，他们禁止任何从联邦之外把奴隶带入准州的行为。这条法令在上下两院获得全票通过。在这一届议会中，制定最初宪法的“39”人中有三人，他们是约翰·朗顿、乔治·里德、和亚伯拉罕·鲍德温，他们都投了赞成票。当然，如果他们认为地方和联邦政府的划分能够或者宪法中也有什么规定能禁止联邦政府在联邦土地上控制奴隶制，那他们会把他们的反对意见记录在案的。

1803年，联邦政府购买了路易斯安娜这块土地。我们先前的土地索求都是来自我们自己的某些州，但是这片土地是从国外获得的。1804年，国会在现在路易斯安娜州的这块土地上设置准州机构，位于其境内的新奥尔良当时是古老且相对来说较大的城市。境内还有别的许多城镇和定居点，奴隶制牵涉到当地民众生活的方方面面。在准州法案里，国会没有禁止奴隶制，但是他们确实对奴隶制进行了干涉——对奴隶制进行了控制——比密西西比的情况更明显，范围更广。所制定的涉及奴隶制的条款主要有：

第1，不准从国外带奴隶进入准州。

第2，自从1798年5月1日起，进入合众国的奴隶不准带入该州。

第3，除非奴隶主在此定居，把所带奴隶作为己用，否则不准把奴隶带入该州。违反此法令各项都处以罚款，并释放涉及的奴隶。

该法令也顺利通过，通过此法令的议会中有两人是属于那“39”人的。他们是亚伯拉罕·鲍德温和乔纳森·戴顿。同密西西比的情况一致，两人很可能都投了赞成票。在他们的理解中，假如法令违背了联邦政府和地方政府之间的划分，或者违背了宪法的任何条款，他们要是不同意通过法令的话，会有他们的反对记录的。

1819-1820年间，密西西比问题提出了并得到解决。国会两院经过多轮赞成和反对投票，完成了解决这个问题的各个步骤。那“39”人中有两个是国会议员——鲁弗斯·金和查尔斯·平克尼。金先生一直赞成禁止奴隶制，反对任何妥协，而平克尼先生一贯反对禁止奴隶制，反对任何妥协。据此，根据金先生的理解，他想表明，联邦和地方政府的划分和宪法的任何条款，不得阻止国会在联邦区域内禁止奴隶制。而根据平克尼先生的投票，他想表示他的理解是，在这样的情况下，他有足够的理由反对国会禁止奴隶制。

我所提到的所有情况都只是这“39”人，或他们中的任何一个人，对这个问题所采取的行动，这是我能够发现的一切。

列举一下采取这种行动的所有人，1784年4人，1787年2人，1789年17人，1798年3人，1804年2人，1819年—1820年2人——总共有30个。但这样就把约翰·朗顿、罗杰·舍曼、威廉·费尤、鲁弗斯·金和乔治·里德每人算了2次，把亚伯拉罕·鲍德温算了3次。我所说的对这个问题采取行动的那“39”人中，按照前面的引文所说的对这个问题比我们理解得更透彻的确切人数是23人，另有16人没有留下对这个问题采取任何行动的证明。

那么，“架构我们沐浴其中的政府”的39人中，有23人履行了他们的行政职责和誓言，就前面引文所肯定的他们“比我们理解不差，甚至更透彻”的这个问题采取了行动。21人——明显占“39”人中的大多数，采取了这样的行动。基于他们的理解，假如联邦与地方政府的划分，或者在他们为自己制定并宣誓拥护的宪法中，有什么禁止联邦政府在联邦的区域内控制奴隶制，那他们就犯了严重的政治错误和蓄意伪证罪。这21个人就采取了这样的行动，而且，行动胜于雄辩，基于这样责任的行动更胜于雄辩。

23人中有2人，在他们对这个问题采取的行动中投了反对票。但是，这样投票出于何种原因我们不得而知。他们这样做或许是因为他们认为地方和联邦政府的适当划分，或者宪法的原则或某个条款起阻碍作用。或者，不存在这样的情况，他们投反对票对他们来说似乎只是权宜之计。没有人在已经宣誓拥护宪法的情况下，在良心上却去投票赞成他认为不合宪法的措施，无论他认为这种措施是个多么的权宜之计。但是一个人可以或者应该对他认为合乎宪法的、同时是他认为不合时宜的措施投反对票。因此，认为那两个人投了反对票，就认为他们这样做是因为他们觉得地方政府和联邦政府的划分或者宪法中就有什么规定，禁止联邦政府在联邦区域内控制奴隶制，这种断定是很危险的。

那“39”人中余下的16人，据我所知，他们就联邦在其境内控制奴隶制这个问题本身没有留下任何观点记录。但是我们有很多理由可以相信，倘若真的要他们陈述他们的观点的话，他们对这个问题的理解与那23个同辈的理解没有多大的不同。

为了严格贯彻上面引文的意思，我有意省略了不是那39位制定最初宪法的先辈们所表示出的任何理解，无论他们有多么的杰出。而且基于同样的原因，我也省略这“39”人就奴隶制这个大问题在其他阶段的任何理解。倘若我们从其他阶段深入了解他们的对外奴隶贸易和笼统的奴隶制道德与政策问题的行动和言论，就联邦在其境内对奴隶制的控制问题我们似乎会得出如下结论：如果那16个人真的采取什么行动，他们或许与那23人的行动无异。在那个时代，这16个人中有几个人士反抗奴隶制最为出名——比如富兰克林博士、亚历山大·汉密尔顿和古韦纳尔·莫里斯。大家现在知道，16人中没有一人是同意奴隶制的，除非南卡罗来那的约翰·鲁特里奇或许是这样。

在我们39个制定最初宪法的先辈中，21个是占其绝大多数的。这21人的肯定理解是，地方与联邦政府的划分以及宪法的任何部分都没有禁止联邦政府在其境内控制奴隶制，而其他所有的人很可能有同样的理解。毫无疑问，这就是制定我们最初宪法的先辈们的理解，而且上面的引文也肯定，他们比我们对这个问题的理解“更透彻”。

但是，到目前为止，我一直在考虑最初架构宪法的先辈们所表达的对这个问题的理解。最初的宪法里有规定了一个可以对其进行修正的模式。正如我所说过的那样，我们现在“沐浴其中的政府架构”涵盖最初的宪法和其后来通过的12个修正案。那些现在坚持认为联邦在其境内对奴隶制的控制违背了宪法的人是把我们引向他们认为违反了的那些条款，而且，就我理解，他们关注的都是这些个修正案，不是最初的宪法。在德雷德·斯格特诉讼案中，最高法院的裁决是基于第五修正案的，其中规定，任何人“在没有正当的法律程序下”不得被剥夺“生命、自由或财产权”。而道格拉斯参议员和他的另类追随者们是扎根于第十修正案的，其中规定，“没有经由宪法委托给合众国的权力”，“分别归各州或其民众所有”。

现在，这些修正案都是在宪法下成立的第一届议会所通过的——跟通过上面所提到的法案的议会为同一届议会，该法案指的就是在西北部地区禁止奴隶制的那个。不仅是同一届议会，连议会构成人员也是相同的。这些人在同一场会议、同一时间逐渐考虑成熟，制定出这些宪法修正案和这个规定在国家那时所拥有的地区都禁止奴隶制的法案。那些宪法修正案是先于这个法案所提出的，但却在其之后通过，所以，在这个执行1787年法令的法案的悬而未决过程中，这些个宪法修正案也处于悬而未决状态。

国会的76位成员，包括上述建立最初宪法的那16位，都是我们的杰出前辈，就是他们建立了“我们沐浴其中的政体”，可是，现在这个政体却被说成要禁止联邦政府在联邦境内控制奴隶制。

到今天还断言国会深思熟虑建立的且同时成熟的这两件事相互间绝对风马牛不相及，这难道不是放肆之至吗？这张嘴还断言：完成这两件事的那些人还宣称他们是不想干的，说他们知道比我们更透彻理解——比那个断言他们是不想干的那个人更透彻了解这两者是否真的不想干。把这张嘴的两个断言放到一起，难道还不体现断言者的荒谬透顶与厚颜无耻吗？

可以安全地假定，制定最初宪法的那39个人和国会的76名制定修正案的议员，全部算在一起，肯定可以包括那些有资格被称作“建立我们沐浴其中的政府体制的那些先辈们”。基于这种假定，如果有人说，这些中有哪个在他的一生中宣称地方和联邦政府的划分，或者宪法中有什么地方规定，阻止联邦政府在其土地上控制奴隶制，我就要公然否定。我可以更进一步说，要是有人说，在本世纪初之前（我可以说在本世纪后半叶初之前），整个世界要是有任何活生生的人宣称过，在他的理解中，地方政府和联邦政府的权力划分，或者宪法中有某一部分阻止联邦政府在其境内控制奴隶制，我也要公然否定。我要对那些持这种观点之人说，不仅在“建造我们沐浴其中的政府的那些先辈中”，还有在建造这个政府的这个世纪中其他真真切切活过的人中，要他们找找看，他们是不可能找到任何证据来证明有一个人同意他们的观点的。

此时此刻，为了不至于被误解，我要说明一下，我的意思倒不是说我们要对我们的祖先言听计从、亦步亦趋。这样做势必会要抛弃我们自身体验之启迪——丢掉所有的发展、所有的进步。在此我所说的真正意思就是，一旦我们真要在什么情况下取代我们先辈的观点和政策，我们应该有如此确凿的证据和清晰的论证，以至于使他们相当深思熟虑、反复权衡的权威结论也站不住脚才行。毫无疑问不应该只是这种情况，我们只是自己宣布一下他们对这个问题的理解比我们更透彻，这种情况是不行的。

当今，倘若有人真的相信地方政府和联邦政府的权力划分，或者宪法中有什么地方，阻止联邦政府在其境内控制奴隶制，他这样说说是可以的，用一切他能掌握的事实证据和合理的论据来证明其观点也是对的。但是他要是误导别人，误导那些不怎么接触历史、没有多少闲暇研究历史的人，让他们误信什么“建立我们沐浴其中的政府的那些先辈们”也抱有同样的观点，以此来用错误和欺诈取代事实和合理的论据，那就不对了。倘若当今有人真的相信“建立我们沐浴其中的政府体制的先辈们”在别的一些情形下运用的一些原则，这些原则理应让他们做出这样的理解，即地方和联邦政府权力的划分，或者宪法的某一部分禁止联邦在其境内控制奴隶制，这样说他也是对的。但是，他同时应该勇敢地承担责任去表述他的观点，说他理解那些原则比先辈们更透彻；尤其他不应该逃避责任，说什么先辈们“理解这个问题不必我们差，甚至比我们更透彻”。

够了！让所有相信“我们的先辈，建构我们政府的先辈们，理解这个问题比我们不差，甚至更透彻”的人信口开河、我行我素去吧。这是全体共和党人就奴隶制问题的共同疑问、共同期盼。就像我们的先辈对奴隶制所作的标记那样，我们再一次做个同样的标记，把奴隶制标示为一种邪恶，这种邪恶不能扩大，但是我们必须容忍它、保护它，仅仅就是因为它已经在我们中间存在是个既定的事实，所以必须保护它、容忍它。让那些先辈们给奴隶制所作的担保原封不动地保持原样吧，不要勉强。共和党人会为之战斗，而且就我所知，就我所信，共和党人对他们的斗争成果会表示满意的。

现在，倘若他们愿意听的话——我想他们是不愿意听的——我想对南方民众说几句话。

我想对他们说：你们自认为讲道理、讲正义；我也认为在道理与正义的一般意义上，你们比任何其他人确实也不差。不过，每当你们说起我们共和党人，你们只把我们贬作爬兽类动物，或者最多称作歹徒一类人物。你们愿意听一听海盗和杀人犯，就是不愿意听所谓的“黑人共和党人”。在你们相互的辩论中，你们热衷一上来就无条件地贬斥我们。真的，对我们的贬斥总是你们一贯言行的必备前提，可以说这就是你们的言行的执照。现在，你们能，不能也没办法，愿意停下来想一想你们这样做是否真的对我们公平，对你们自己公平吗？说出你们具体的指摘，然后耐下性子听听我们的不同意见和理由吧。

你们说我们搞地方主义，我们不承认，于是就发起了争论。于是，你们就有举证的责任。你们拿出了证据，可那是什么样的证据啊？你们说，我们共和党在你们那没有容身之地——在你们那没有什么选票。事实的确是这样，但这能说明什么呢？如果这真的能说明问题，不变原则我们开始从你们那获得选票，我们因此就不再是搞地方主义了。你们是不能回避这种结论的。你们是否因此就遵从这种原则呢？倘若你们遵从，你们很可能就将发现，我们不是在搞地方主义。你们将会发现，明明白白的现实是，你们的证据是站不住脚的。我们在你们那儿没有选票的事实是你们造成的，不是我们的责任。这种事实要追究过错的话，过错主要在你们那，除非你们能举证我们在原则或者行动中对你们有排斥。倘若我们真的在原则或行动上排斥了你们，过错就该在我们这。但是这又要求你们转到我们的原则的对或错的讨论上来了。如果我们的原则在实践中因为我们的私利，或者因为别的什么原因而有损于你们一方，那么，我们的原则连同我们都有地方主义之虞，都应该遭受这样的反对和贬斥。那么，就这个问题直面我们，我们的原则，实践是否有损于你们；直面回答我们，假使我们有什么可指摘的。你们敢接受挑战吗？你们不敢，那么，你们笃信为真的所谓的“缔造我们沐浴其中的政府体制”原则，且在官方场合一而再再而三地对此强调，其实是个明显的错误透顶的行为，值得我们不假思索地痛斥。

你们当中有些人乐于当我们面一再强调华盛顿总统在他的告别演说中提出的对地方政党的警告。在华盛顿提出那个警告之前还不到8年时间，作为合众国总统，他已经同意并签署了在西北准州禁止奴隶制的国会法案。该法案体现了在那个警告提出时刻及其之前政府对这个问题的政策；而在该警告提出之后大约一年时间，他在给拉斐特的信中说，他认为在西北准州禁止奴隶制是个明智之举，基于同样的干系，他还提出希望，希望我们应该在什么时候建立个自由州的同盟。

基于这个思想，再看看就这个问题所产生的地方主义，华盛顿总统的警告是你们手中用来反对我们的武器呢，还是我们手中用来反对你们的武器呢？倘若华盛顿总统本人能说话，他会谴责我们这些继续贯彻他的政策搞地方主义的人呢，还是谴责你们这些拒绝执行他的政策的人呢？我们尊敬华盛顿总统的警告，并把他的警告、连同他所给的正确使用该警告的案例一并托付给你们。

但是，你们说你们保守——相当地保守，说我们是革命的、具有破坏性什么的。请问，什么是保守主义？难道保守主义不是靠对旧的、经过考验的东西的坚持，来对抗新的和未经考验过的东西么？在有争议的这一点上，我们坚持、争取过去“建立我们沐浴其中的政府的先辈们”所制定的统一政策；而你们却一致反对，密切监视和唾弃这个老政策，坚持用新政策取而代之。是的，究竟用什么政策替代你们自己也没达成一致意见。你们的分歧就在于用什么新方案和计划来替代上，但都是异口同声地反对和贬斥先辈们的老政策。你们有些人赞成恢复国外奴隶贸易；有些人赞成为新的准州制定《国会奴隶法典》；有些人赞成建立阻止准州在它们的范围内禁止奴隶制的国会；有些人赞成通过司法程序在那些准州维持奴隶制；也有一些人赞成“霸王原则”，就是“倘若有人把另一人变为奴隶，第三者不得反对”，这还被美化成“人民主权”原则；但是你们中没有一人根据“建立我们沐浴其中的政府的先辈们”的实践，来赞成联邦在其范围内禁止奴隶制。你们的诸多计划在我们的政府创建的那个世纪都没有先例，也没有人提倡过。既然如此，就请你们想想你们自称什么保守主义，还指摘我们是什么破坏分子，你们是否有最为明确和坚实的理由。

还有，你们说是我们让奴隶制问题前所未有的突出，对此我们表示否认。我们承认现在这个问题是最为突出了，但我们否定这是我们所为。不是我们，而是你们，是你们摒弃了先辈们制定的老政策。我们过去反对，我们现在仍然反对你们所谓的革新，奴隶制问题由此比以前更为突出。你们想要把这个问题退回到过去的状态吗？那就遵从过去的老政策吧。过去怎样将来就还会怎样，情形都是一样的。倘若你们想回到过去的和平时代，那就接受那时的老政策老观念。

你们指摘说，是我们挑起了你们奴隶的暴乱，对此我们断然否认。你们有什么证据啊？哈珀渡口镇事件！约翰·布朗！！约翰·布朗根本不是共和党人；在他策划的哈珀渡口镇事件中，你没找出一个共和党人。倘若我们共和党有人在这个事件中犯了案，就两种情况，你们要么知道，要么不知道。倘若你们知道，没有指认这个人、没有提供证据，你们就有无法推卸的责任；倘若你们不知道，你们就得判断是谁，尤其是在你们审判和没能举证之后要坚持自己的判断。不要我说你们就很清楚，坚持一个没人知道真假的指控就是恶毒的诽谤。

你们有些人承认，没有共和党人故意援助或激励哈珀渡口镇事件，但是你们却仍要坚持说我们的思想和主张里必定有什么东西直接导致这些后果。我们不信。我们知道，我们捍卫的思想，宣布过的观点中没有什么不是“建立我们沐浴其中的政府的先辈们”所捍卫和宣布过的。在这个问题上你们对我们一直不公道。这个事件发生时，一些重要的州级选举即将举行，你们很明显都开心地认为，把事件怪罪到我们头上，在这些选举中你们就会获得优势。选举日来临，可是你们的期待并没有得到十分满足。每一个共和党人都知道，至少对他们自己来说，你们的指摘就是诽谤，所以他们不会受诽谤所影响而倾向于投你们的赞成票。共和党的信条和主张伴随着不断地对你们奴隶干涉的抗议，或者伴随着关于你们的奴隶对你们进行的抗议。当然，这样做并不是鼓励他们去造反。确实，同“建立我们沐浴其中的政府的先辈们”一样，我们宣布奴隶制是不对的，但是我们的宣言奴隶们甚至都没有听到。我们的一切言行奴隶们都不知道，甚至几乎都不知道还有个共和党。他们有所耳闻的，只是你们对我们的歪曲，事实上除此之外，我相信他们对共和党一无所知。你们自己的政治争议中，一方往往带有对黑人共和主义的怜悯而指摘对方，然而接着，为了让你们的指摘含有分量，你们就把黑人共和主义定性为暴乱，在奴隶中进行血腥镇压和恐吓。

现在的奴隶暴乱并不比共和党成立之前普遍。28年前，是什么诱发了南安普敦暴乱，使其中至少有三倍于哈珀渡口镇暴乱死伤的人数死于非命？你们再异想天开地胡扯也不可能扯出南安普敦“被黑人共和主义者攻占”的结论。合众国当下的情形中，我不认为奴隶会有全国范围，或者较大范围暴乱的可能啊。这种统一的行动是不可能实现的。奴隶们没有快速沟通的方式，也没有能纵火的自由人，黑人和白人都没有。爆炸物是一包包到处都有，但是没有，也不可能有必要的火车皮来运送的啊。

南方人民经常说起奴隶们对他们的男女主人的情感，这些情感至少有一部分是真挚的。暴乱的谋划和传播可能还没传及20人，就有可能有个把人为了挽救某个他喜爱的男主人或女主人而泄了密。规律就这样，海地的奴隶暴乱并不是个例外，这是特殊环境下的一个例子。英国历史上的火药事件，尽管不牵涉到奴隶，但更符合这个道理。在那个事件中，只有20人知道秘密，然而其中有一个人，为了急于救他的朋友，就向他的朋友告了密，结果就倒转了那场灾难。偶然的厨房投毒，田野里公然的或暗地里谋杀，大约20次左右的地方性暴乱，这些事件都是由于奴隶制的存在的必然结果。但是从长远看，我认为这个国家不会发生全国性的奴隶暴乱。无论谁多么害怕或是多么希望这样的暴乱事件发生，都会以失望而告终。

用杰斐逊先生许多年前的话来说：“引导解放进程的权力仍旧在我们的手中，以和平的方式，慢慢解放奴隶，奴隶制的邪恶将会不知不觉地消失，留下的空缺也会逐渐地由自由的白人劳动者所填补。相反，一旦听之任之，最终累积的结果一定会使人不寒而栗。”

杰斐逊先生的意思不是说奴隶解放的权力在联邦那里，我也不是。他说的是弗吉尼亚，而就奴隶解放的权力来说，我仅指的是拥有奴隶的各州。然而，正如我们所坚持的那样，联邦政府有权束缚奴隶制的扩张，有权确保奴隶暴乱永远不会在没有奴隶制的任何美国土地上爆发。

约翰·布朗的努力是与众不同的，这不是什么奴隶暴乱。这只是白人的一种尝试，想在奴隶中筹备一起叛乱，不过那些奴隶拒绝参与而已。实际上，这起筹划荒唐透顶，不可能成功，就连那些无知的奴隶也看得一清二楚。这件事，从理念上来看，与历史上的很多试图谋杀国王和皇帝的企图差不多。一个热衷为人民解除压迫的人，突发幻想，觉得自己是受上天所托来解放他们的。于是他就铤而走险，其结果无非是自己掉了脑袋。奥尔西尼试图谋杀路易斯·拿破仑和约翰·布朗试图发起哈珀渡口事件，两者的理念如出一辙。前者是急于把责任推给旧的英格兰，后者把责任推给新英格兰，两事件的性质是相同的。

可是利用约翰·布朗事件，参考书等诸如此类的东西，果真帮你们分裂了共和党组织，你们又能获得什么好处呢？人的行为可以在某种程度上加以修饰，但人的本质是改变不了的。在这个国家有一种反对奴隶制的观点和情感，这至少可以折合成150万张投票。你们不可能摧毁这种思想和情感——不可能靠分裂团结在这种情感基础上的政治组织来摧毁这种情感。你们几乎不可能驱散已经在你们最猛烈炮火面前组织起来的军队。就是你们能迫使从选票箱的和平渠道产生的情感进入什么别的渠道，你们又能得到什么？别的渠道又有可能是什么？你们这样做会使约翰·布朗式的人物数目减少？还是扩大？

但是，你们宁愿分裂联邦，也不愿意放弃你们所谓的宪法赋予的权利。

这样说起来多少就有一些不顾后果的味道。但是假如我们提议，仅仅通过人数的力量，来剥夺你们的某一权利，明明白白写在宪法上的某个权利，这样做即使不是完全合法，也是不会使局势有所缓和。但是我们并没有这样提议。

当你们作出这些个声明的时候，你们暗地里就明确无误地认为宪法赋予了你们一种权利，你们可以把奴隶带到联邦各地区，拥有他们作为私有财产。可是，宪法里面并没有明确赋予你们这种权利啊，宪法在字面上没有提到任何这种权利。所以相反，我们认为这样的权利在宪法里根本不存在，一丝都没有。

这样，你们的目的就昭然若揭了，你们无非就想破坏政府，除非你们能我行我素，在你们和我们之间所有的争议中，任你们的意愿去解释和执行宪法，所有的事务都要听你们的，否则就得灭亡。

这就是你们明明白白想对我们说的话。或许你们会说，最高法院已经裁决了这个有争议的宪法问题，裁决的结果于你们有利。我看不完全是这样。除却律师对法官们的意见和法院对两个概念之间区别的裁决，最高法院也只是在某种程度上为你们对这个问题作了裁决。最高法院实质上是在说：把奴隶带入联邦准州，然后把他们当作财产拥有，是你们的宪法规定的权利。当我说最高法院在一定程度上作出裁决，我的意思是说这一裁决是出于一个有分歧的最高法院，勉强得到多数法官的同意，他们对作出这样的裁决的原因还存在意见分歧。对这裁决的意义，那些坚定的支持者们相互之间的意见也不统一。这样的裁决主要还是基于对事实的错误陈述，也就是意见中的“拥有奴隶作为财产的权利在宪法里是有专门和明确的肯定的。”

仔细看看宪法将会发现拥有奴隶作为财产权在宪法里没有“专门和明确的肯定”。记住，法官们没有在他们的司法建议里保证说宪法隐含有这样的权利肯定；但他们保证了他们的诚实，说这种权利是“专门和明确的”，并在那儿得到肯定。“专门”是指不与其他别的事搅和在一起；“明确”是指就是那个意思，没有别的干涉，不受别的意思影响。

如果他们仅仅是在他们的司法建议里保证说，这样的权利是隐含地肯定在宪法里的，那么别人就有理由说，宪法里既没有“奴隶”，也没有“奴隶制”这些字眼，甚至都没有“财产”这个词，在任何暗指奴隶、奴隶制和宪法中其他任何暗指奴隶的地方，在语言上用的都是“人”；在任何暗指奴隶主人对奴隶有合法财产权的地方，都被说成“应得的服务和劳动”——一种可用服务和劳动偿付的债务。还有，不直接用奴隶和奴隶制，而用其他暗指的方法，是特意把可以用人当作财产的思想排除在宪法之外，这在同时代的历史可以得到证明。

要想说明这一切肯定不难。

当法官们这个明显的错误被提请他们注意时，难道就没道理期待他们撤掉他们的错误陈述、重新考虑基于这个错误之上的结论吗？

然后该记住的就是，“建立了我们沐浴其中的政府的先辈们”——即制定了我们宪法的那些人，他们很久以前就为我们决定了这个同样的宪法问题。在对这个问题作出决定时，他们之间没有意见分歧。对于决定这个问题之后的意义问题他们之间也没有分歧，而且所有的迹象皆表明，决定的作出并非基于对事实的错误陈述。

在所有这些条件下，除非你们的法院裁决在现在和将来都被作为一个最终的结论性的政治行动原则，否则你们还真的觉得你们有道理分裂联邦？但是你们是不会容忍一个共和党人当选为总统的。你们说，一旦这种情况真的出现，你们就会摧毁联邦。然后，你们就会说，摧毁联邦的重大罪责就会落在我们头上。这招太妙了！就像一个抢劫犯拿着枪顶着我的耳朵，从牙缝里挤出几个字：“给钱！否则崩了你！崩了你你还是杀人犯！”

当然，这个抢劫犯所要的就是钱，就是属于我自己的钱，对于这钱我有明确的权利。而我同样拥有的是我的投票权。拿死来威胁我是想勒索我的钱，拿联邦的毁灭来威胁我是想勒索我的选票。这两者在原则上很难有什么区别。

我现在想对共和党人说几句。现在最为期待的就是这个伟大的联邦的各个部分和平相处，和谐一致。让我们共和党人竭尽全力实现这个愿望吧。即使有什么激愤，我们都不要感情用事，暴跳如雷。即使南方人民不想听我们说，我们也要平静地设身处地地为他们想一想，好好考虑考虑我们的职责，可能的话就让让他们。从他们整体的言行加以判断，从他们跟我们分歧的主题和性质上加以判断，可能的话，再决定看什么能够满足他们。

倘若那些准州都无条件地屈从于他们的安排，他们会满意吗？我知道他们不会满意的。在他们最近对我们的所有抱怨中，鲜有提及那些准州的。侵犯和暴乱是他们现在最为愤怒的事，但倘若我们以后与侵犯和暴乱无关呢，他们会满意吗？我们知道他们还不会满意。之所以清楚这一切，是因为我们从来就没与侵犯和暴乱有过一丁点儿的联系。还有，我们所有这一切的忍让与克制也免不了他们的指责与非难。

于是问题又出现了，究竟什么能使他们满意？就这能让他们满意：我们必须不仅别妨碍他们，还必须以某种方式让他们相信我们确实没有妨碍他们。凭经验，做到这一点不容易。组建共和党伊始，我们就一直在努力试图让他们相信这一点，但一直没有成功。在我们所有的讲坛上和演说中，我们都一直宣布不妨碍他们，但他们丝毫没有被说服。有一个事实是，他们从来没有发现我们中有一个人试图去妨碍他们，但就连这个事实也不能让他们相信。

这些自然的、明显合适的方法都不奏效，那到底什么能使他们相信我们呢？这个，奏效的只有这个：不再说奴隶制是错的，附和他们一起说奴隶制是正确的。而且要彻底干脆——言语上要这样，行动上也要这样。沉默他们是接受不了的，我们必须明确地表示与他们为伍才行。道格拉斯参议员的新妨碍治安法必须要颁布和执行，弹压所有的宣称奴隶制是错误的言论，且不管这些言论来自于政界还是报界还是讲坛还是个人言谈。我们必须满怀欣喜地逮捕并归还他们逃跑了的奴隶。我们必须废掉那些自由州宪法。联邦境内的所有空气都必须清洗一下，将反对奴隶制的流毒给彻底净化掉，只有这样，唯有这样，他们才不再相信他们的所有麻烦皆起因于我们。

我完全清楚，他们是不会如此精确地说话的。他们大部分或许会说：“别妨碍我们，别惹我们，关于奴隶制你们爱怎么说就怎么说。”但我们确实没妨碍他们——从来也没有招惹他们，因此，终究还是我们所说的话让他们感到不满。直到我们最后啥也不说，这样他们才不再指责我们妨碍他们。

我也很清楚，他们还没有在言辞上要求推翻我们那些《自由州宪法》。然而，那些州宪法宣布奴隶制为错的，比所有其他反对奴隶制的说法更为严肃，语气更为强调。当所有别的这些说法都被灭绝了，推翻所有这些州宪法的要求就会出现，到那时就没有什么可以阻止这个要求了。情况就只会朝这个方向发展，只是现在他们没有一下子作全部要求罢了。做什么就要求什么，所做的都找到原因，不圆满达到目的，他们是不会心甘情愿地罢休的。照他们那样，认为奴隶制在道义上是正确的，还能提升社会层次，那他们就不会停止要求全国各地都承认奴隶制。奴隶制不仅是一项法律权利，也是一项社会福祉。

除非我们坚信奴隶制是错误的，否则我们没有正当理由阻止他们这样做。倘若奴隶制是正确的，那么一切反对奴隶制的言行、法律和宪法本身就是错的，都得禁止和废除。倘若奴隶制是对的，我们就没有正当理由反对它的全国性——它的普适性。倘若奴隶制是错误的，那他们就没有正当理由坚持要求扩大和推广奴隶制。倘若我们认为奴隶制是正确的，那他们要求什么我们就乐意答应什么。倘若他们认为奴隶制是错误的，我们所要求的一切他们也乐意答应。真实情况是，他们认为奴隶制是正确的，而我们认为它是错误的，这就是我们所有分歧之所在。他们认为奴隶制是正确的，所以要求全社会普遍承认就无可厚非，而我们认为奴隶制是错误的，我们就能够对他们屈服让步么？我们能够对他们的观点投赞成票，而反对自己的观点么？鉴于我们的道德、社会和政治责任，我们能这么做吗？

尽管我们认为奴隶制是错误的，我们还能做到对现存有奴隶制的地方不加干涉，主要是因为它在这个国家的现实存在而产生了一种必要性。但是，当我们能够用投票阻止奴隶制时，我们还能允许它扩展到那些准州去吗？还能让它在这些自由州泛滥成灾吗？倘若我们的责任感阻止我们这么做，那就让我们无畏并有效地坚守我们的职责吧。我们不要被那些精心的计谋、一直为我们所抨击和讨伐的阴谋所迷惑而误入歧途。那就如同在对与错之间摸索中间道路，就像在活人与死人之间找寻一个活死人一样；那如同对于某个问题所有正直的人都在意而有的人采取“不在乎”政策；就如同联邦恳求真正的联邦拥护者去向联邦分裂主义者屈服，颠倒神圣的原则，去召唤那些正直的而不是罪恶的人去忏悔；就如同向华盛顿的灵魂祷告，祈求人们不再说华盛顿说过的话，不再做华盛顿做过的事。

我们也不要被错误的指控中伤而背离我们的职责，也不要被摧毁联邦政府或打入地牢这样的威胁所震慑。

让我们怀有这样的信念：正义会产生力量！怀着这种信念，按照我们所理解的那样，勇敢地将我们的职责履行到底！

在伊利诺伊州斯普林菲尔德的告别演说

1861年2月11日

朋友们：不处在我的境况里，就不能感受到我此刻的忧伤。这里的土地，和这里善良的人们，助我取得了所有的成功。在这块土地上，我生活了1/4个世纪，已从青年步入了老年。这块土地也养育了我的孩子们，也埋葬着我的一个孩子。此刻我就要走了，不知何时、也不知能否再次回归故里，因为我面临的任务比当年华盛顿担负的任务还要艰巨。没有始终帮助华盛顿的上帝的帮助，我就不能成功。有了上帝的帮助，我就不会失败。笃信上帝会与我同行，笃信上帝会与你们同在，笃信上帝无处不在。让我们满怀信心地希望，一切都会圆满成功。愿上帝保佑你们，就像我希望你们在祈祷上帝保佑我一样。我向你们深情地告别。

第一次就职演说

1861年3月4日

合众国的同胞们：

按照一个和政府本身一样古老的惯例，我来到诸位面前，给大家简短地讲几句。并当着你们的面，遵照合众国的宪法规定，举行一个总统在他“履行职务之前”必须宣誓的仪式，在诸位面前宣誓。

我认为，现在没有必要在这里来讨论那些并不特别令人担忧，或并不特别令人不安的行政问题。

南部各州人民中似乎普遍存在着一种恐惧心理，认为共和党执掌政府，他们的财产，他们的和平生活和人身安全都将受到威胁。这种恐惧向来就没有任何事实根据。实际情况是，很多相反的证据却一直存在着，随时可供他们核查。这种证据几乎在现在正对你们讲话的这个人公开发表过的每一篇演说中都能找到。此刻我只想引用其中的一篇，当中我说过，“不论直接或间接地，我都完全无意对各州已经存在的奴隶制进行干涉。我相信我根本就没有合法权利这样做，何况我也无此意图。”那些提我名并选举我当总统的人都完全知道，我早已这么讲过，不仅讲过很多类似的话，而且从来也没有收回过我已讲过的这些话。除此之外，他们还要我接受在政纲中明确无误地着重写进一条决议，这条决议对他们和我都具有法律效力。现在我给大家读一下这个决议：

“决议：确保各州的权利不受侵犯，尤其是各州完全根据自己的判断来制定和监管自己的内部制度的权利，这权利是我们的政治体制的完善和长久所赖以存在的平衡力量的基础。我们谴责用武装力量非法入侵任何一个州或是准州的领地。无论以什么为借口，这种入侵都是最严重的犯罪行为。”

现在我重申这些观点。这样做我只是提请公众注意，这就是以下情况的最确凿的证据，那就是，各州或准州的每一个部分的财产、和平与安全，无论如何都不会受到即将上任的政府的任何威胁。在此我再加一句：只要符合宪法和法律，各州所有合法要求的保护，政府都能够而且乐于给予保护。无论出于什么原因，政府对所有的地方都一视同仁。

就逃避服务或劳役的奴隶的遣返问题，一直以来分歧很大。我现在要读的条款跟宪法中其他任何条款一样，都是写得很明确的。

“根据一州的法律规定在该州承担服务或劳役的人，要是逃往他州，不得根据逃入州的法律或法规而免除这样的服务或劳役，而应该应有权享有这种劳务或劳役的一方的要求，将其予以遣返。”

毋庸置疑，制定该条款的那些人的意图，就是要索回我们所说的那些逃跑的奴隶。而法律制订人的这一意图实际已成为法律。国会的所有议员都曾宣誓拥护整部宪法，包括这一条和其他所有条款。因此，就适合这一条款规定的奴隶应“被遣返”这一点，他们的誓言是完全一致的。那么现在如果他们心平气和地作一番努力，他们难道不能以几乎同样完全一致的誓言，通过一项法律，以使他们的共同誓言得以始终有效吗？

究竟这一条款应该由国家政府还是由各州政府来执行，大家的意见还有一些分歧。但可以肯定地说，这种分歧并不是什么实质性的，因为只要奴隶能被交出，那究竟由哪一级政府来完成，对奴隶或对别的人来说，没有什么特别意义。任何人，在任何情况下，也绝不会因为应以何种方式来实现他的誓言这样一个无关紧要的争执，就情愿可以不遵守自己的誓言吧？

另外，在任何有关这一问题的法律中，该不该把文明和人道法律体系中关于自由的各项保证都写进去，以免在任何情况下使一个自由人被作为奴隶遣返呢？同时，宪法中还有一条规定，保证“每一州的公民都享有其他各州公民所享有的一切特权和豁免权”，可不可以我们用法律保证使这一条款得以执行呢？

今天我在这里正式宣誓，思想上绝无任何保留，也绝无任何意图以任何过于苛刻的标准来解释宪法或法律条文。我现在虽不打算详细指出国会的哪些法令必须要遵照执行，但我强烈建议，我们大家，不论以个人身份还是以公职人员的身份，都来服从并遵守没有废除的一切法令，这要比触犯其中任何一个法令，自以为它不符合宪法便可以逃脱罪责，要安全得多。

第一任总统根据我们国家的宪法宣誓就职，距今已经72个年头了。在这期间，15位十分杰出的公民相继入主过政府的行政部门。他们领导着政府渡过了许多磨难，总的来说获得了很大的成功。然而，尽管有这么多先例，现在我将在宪法所规定的短短四年任期中来担任这同一任务，却面临着巨大而非同寻常的困难。此前，联邦只是受到了分裂的威胁，而现在，企图分裂联邦的可怕行动已经开始了。

从法律的普遍意义和我们的宪法的角度来仔细考量，我认为我们各州组成的联邦是永久的。在一切国民政府的根本法中，永久性这一特质，即使没有写明，也是不言而喻的。完全可以肯定，没有哪个政府本身会在自己的根本法中单列出一条，规定自己完结的期限。继续执行我国宪法所明文规定的各项条款，联邦便将永存。除了采取宪法本身没有规定的行动，否则谁也不可能摧毁联邦。

另外，即使合众国本身并不算一个名副其实的政府，而只是依据契约成立的一个州的联合体，那既然有契约的约束，若非参加这一契约的各方一致同意，我们能和平地说取消它就取消它吗？订立契约的一方可以违约，也可以说毁约。但如果要合法地解除这一契约，岂能不需要大家一致同意吗？

从这些总的原则出发，我们发现，从合法性视角来考量，联邦具有永久性质的提法，已为它自身的历史所证实。联邦的历史要比宪法的历史长得多。事实上，联邦是通过1774年签订的《联合条款》成立的，1776年的《独立宣言》才使它得以进一步成熟和延续。然后，通过1778年的《邦联条款》使其更臻于完备，当年参加的十三个州业已明确保证并坚信邦联的永久存在。最后，到1787年宪法制定和颁布时公开宣布的目的之一，便是“建立一个更为完美的联邦”。

但是，如果任何一个州，或仅仅几个州也可以合法地把联邦给废除掉，那么这个联邦就会因为失去它至关重要的永久性因素，而比它在宪法制订以前还更不完美。

这些观点可使我们得出结论，任何一个州，仅凭自己动议，是不可能合法地退出联邦，且任何以此为目的的决议和法令在法律上都是无效的；任何一个州或几个州的反对合众国政府的暴力行为，都可以依据具体情况视为叛乱或造反行为。

因此我认为，鉴于宪法和法律，联邦是不容分裂的。我也将竭尽全力，按照宪法明文赋予我的责任，确保联邦的一切法令在所有各州得以忠实地贯彻执行。我认为这样做只是履行我应负的责任。只要是实际可行，我就一定要贯彻它，除非我的合法的主人们——美国人民，收回这一不可或缺的工具，或者以某种合法的方式，指示我采取相反的行动。我相信我这话绝不会被看成是一种威胁，而只会被看作是联邦实现其已公开宣布的目的，即它必将按照宪法捍卫和维持它自身的存在。

要达到这个目标并不需要流血或使用暴力，除非有人将它强加于联邦政府，否则便绝不会发生流血或暴力行为。赋予我的权力将被用来保持、占有和掌管属于联邦政府的一切财产和土地，征收各种关税和税款。但除为了达到这些目的确有必要的行动之外，绝不会对人民有什么别的侵犯；绝不会对任何地方的人民，或在他们之间使用武力。在任何内地，在任何地方对联邦政府的敌对情绪已十分严重和普遍，以致妨害有能力的当地公民执行联邦职责的时候，我们也绝不会试图强制派遣令人厌恶的外来人到他们中间去履行这个职责。尽管政府有严格的合法权力来强制履行这些职责，但那样做的企图必将使人非常不愉快，也近乎不切实际，所以我认为最好还是暂时放弃履行这些职责。

邮件，除非遭到拒收，仍将在联邦各地投寄。尽可能要让各地人民都享有真正的安全感，因为这种安全感是最有利于他们冷静思考和反思的。这里所确立的路线方针必将得到遵守，除非当前事态和实际体验表明修正或改变该方针是合适的。对任何一个事件和紧急事务，我一定会根据当时实际存在的具体情况作出最谨慎的判断，期望以和平手段解决国内纠纷，力图恢复兄弟般的友爱与手足之情。

至于这个或那个地方总有人在各方面试图破坏联邦，并乐于寻求各种借口以达到目的的，我不打算肯定也不打算否定。倘若真有这样一些人，我根本用不着跟他们讲一句话。可是，对那些真正热爱联邦的人，我不可以跟他们讲几句么？

在我们开始谈论要把我们的国家组织连同它的一切利益、一切记忆和一切希望全给毁灭掉这个严重的问题之前，先来探究一下这样做究竟是为了什么，岂不是更明智的么？当事实上你企图逃避的祸害极有可能并不是真实存在的时候，你还会不顾一切地冒险迈出这一步么？或者你要逃避的灾祸虽然确实存在，可是在你逃往的地方却有更大的灾难在等着你，那你会往那里逃吗？你还会冒险犯下如此可怕的错误吗？

大家都公开表示，如果宪法中所规定的一切权利都确实得到维护，那他们也就会乐意留在联邦里。那么，真有什么宪法明文规定的权利被否定了吗？我认为没有。幸亏人的心智是这样构造出来的，没有哪一方敢于如此大胆。如果可能，请你们列出哪怕是一个例子，来说明有什么宪法明文规定的条款是被否定了的。倘若仅凭数量优势，多数派完全靠人数多就能剥夺掉少数派宪法上明文规定的权利，这件事从道义的角度来看，也许可以证明违背宪法是合理的；倘若被剥夺的是极为重要的权利，那违背宪法就肯定无疑是合理的行动了。但我们的情况却并非如此。少数派和个人的一切重要权利，在宪法中都通过肯定和否定、保证和禁止等规定一一向他们作了明确保证，所以涉及这类问题的争论从来就没有出现过。但是，在制订基本法时却不可能制定一条专用条款，来应对政府实际工作中出现的任何问题。没有哪条预见可以料定未来的一切，也没有任何长度适中的文件可以包容解决一切可能发生的问题的法律条文。逃避劳役的人到底应该由联邦政府遣返呢还是由州政府遣返呢？宪法里没有明确规定。国会可以在各准州禁止奴隶制吗？宪法里没有明确规定。国会必须保护各准州的奴隶制吗？宪法里也没有明确规定。

从这类问题中引出了所有我们对宪法问题的争议。我们把这类问题分成了多数派和少数派。如果少数派不肯同意让步，多数派就必须同意，否则政府就得被终结，再没有任何别的选择。要让政府继续行使职权，就必须要求这一方或那一方同意让步才行。在这种情况下，如果一个少数派宁可脱离联邦也绝不愿同意让步，那他们也就开创了一个先例，这必将会使他们走向分裂和毁灭。因为，当多数派拒绝接受这样一个少数派的控制的时候，就会又有一个少数派从这个少数派之中脱离出去。比如，一个新的联盟的任何一部分，在一两年之后，为什么就不会像现在的联邦中的一些部分坚决要脱离出去一样，执意要从这个新联盟中脱离出去？所有怀着分裂联邦思想的人现在都正接受着分裂的思想教育。那么组成一个新联邦的各州有如此完全一致的利益，以至于它们只会建立和谐，而不会再出现脱离行动吗？

很明显，脱离的中心思想本质上就是无政府主义。一个受着宪法的约束和限制，总是随着公众舆论和情感的慎重变化而及时改变的多数派，是自由人民的唯一真正的统治者。谁要是排斥多数派，便必然投向无政府主义或专制主义。完全一致是根本不可能的。把少数派的统治作为一种长期安排是完全不能接受的。因此，一旦排斥了多数原则，剩下的便只有某种形式的无政府主义或专制主义了。

我并没有忘记某些人的立场，他们认为宪法问题应该由最高法院来裁决。我也不否认这种裁决在任何情况下，对诉讼各方，以及诉讼目的，必须具有约束力，而且在类似的情况中，这些裁决也应受到政府的所有其他部门高度的尊重和重视。尽管很明显这类裁决在任何特定案例中都有可能是错误的，但是，这样随之而来的恶果却只限于该特定案例，且这种裁决还有可能被推翻，而且绝不会成为日后判案的先例，所以这种恶果远比其他事务的恶果更让人容易接受。同时，正直的公民必须承认，如果政府对影响全体人民利益的重大问题的决策，都铁定由最高法院来裁决，那一旦法院对个人之间的一般诉讼行为作出裁决时，人民便已不再是自己的主人，因为实际上人民已将他们的政府托付给了那个凌驾于一切之上的法庭了。我的这种观点绝不是在挞伐法院或法官们。案件按正常程序呈送到他们面前后，对案件作出正当裁决就是他们不可推卸的责任。倘若别的什么人硬要把他们的裁决用于政治图谋，那就绝不是他们的过错了。

我们国家有一部分人相信奴隶制是正确的，应当加以扩展，而另一部分人却认为奴隶制是错误的，不应该加以扩展，这是唯一的一个具有实质性的争议。宪法中有关逃亡奴隶的条款，以及禁止对外奴隶贸易的法律，在一个人民的道德观念并不完全支持法律的社会里，对两者的执行情况也许同任何其他的一项法律的执行情况没什么两样。在两种情况下，绝大多数的人都遵守刻板的法律义务，但两者中又都有少数人违背的情况。对此我认为要彻底解决是根本不可能的。倘若两个地区分离以后，以上两种情况只会更糟。对外奴隶贸易现在并没有完全加以禁止，在一个地区不加限制后必将最终恢复；对于逃亡奴隶而言，另一个地区现在遣返的只是一部分，将来会根本不肯交出来的。

就自然条件而言，我们是不能分离的。我们既不能把各个地区相互分开，也不能在彼此之间修建起一座无法逾越的高墙。一对夫妻可以离婚，分道扬镳，彼此再不接触。但我们国家的各部分可无法做到这一点。它们只能面对面相处，友好也罢，仇视也罢，他们仍必须继续交往。那么有可能使得这种交往在分离之后，比分离之前更为有利，更为令人满意吗？难道在外人之间订立条约比在朋友之间制定法律还更为容易吗？难道在外人之间履行条约比在朋友之间按法律办事还更忠实吗？就算你们诉诸战争，你们总不能永远打下去吧。最后当两败俱伤而双方都一无所获时，你们停止了战争，那时凭什么条件相互交往，这同一个老问题仍然会摆在你们面前的。

这个国家，连同它的各级政府机构，都属于居住在这块土地上的人民。无论何时他们对现存政府感到厌倦了，他们都可以行使宪法赋予的权利去改革这个政府，或者行使他们的革命权利来解散它或者推翻它。我不可能不知道这样的事实：现在就有许多可敬的、爱国的公民渴望修订我们的国家宪法。尽管我自己不提议修订，但我也完全承认他们在这个问题上的合法权利，承认他们的这种权利可以按照宪法所规定的两种方式的任何一种来行使。而且，在现存情况下，我不但不反对，而且还赞成给人民一个公正的机会让他们对此采取行动。

我还要大胆补充一点：在我看来，采取举行会议的方式来解决这个问题似乎更可取，这样可以使修订方案完全由人民自己提出，而不是只让人民去接受或拒绝别的一些人提出的方案，况且这些人并非是特别为此目的而被选出来的，还有那些方案或许并不恰巧是人民愿意接受或拒绝的。我了解到现在已有人对宪法提出了一项修正案，不过这修正案我并没有看到，但是已经得到了议会的通过。该修正案大意是说：联邦政府将永远不干涉各州内部制度，包括那些关于应服劳役的人的制度。为了使我讲的话不致被误解，我现在改变我不谈具体修正案的初衷，明确声明：既然这样一条修正案现在归入宪法，我不反对使它成为明确而不可改动的条文。

总统的一切权力都来源于人民，人民并没有授予他权力去确立条件让各州脱离出去。人民自己如果选择那样干，那也是可以的。可是总统不能这样做。总统的职责，是按照他接任时的样子管理本届政府，并把它完整无缺地再移交给他的继任者。

为什么不能有耐心坚决相信人民的最终的公道呢？难道世界上还有什么更好的，或与之相等的希望吗？在我们今天的分歧中，难道有哪一方认为自己是错误的吗？倘若万国的全能统治者，以他的永恒的真理和公正站在你们北方一边，或站在你们南方一边，那么，依照美国人民这一伟大法官的判决，真理和公正必将胜利。

按照我们沐浴其中的现行政府的构架，我们的人民十分明智，授予他们的公仆胡作非为的权力微乎其微；并且同样明智地规定：那点微乎其微的权力，每隔很短一段时间后，就必须收回到他们自己手中。

只要人民保持他们的纯正和警惕，无论哪一届行政首脑，在短短的四年之中，也不可能用极其恶劣或愚蠢的手段对这个政府造成严重的损害。

我的同胞们，请大家都冷静地好好想一想这个问题，稳当一点是不会丢失真正有价值的东西的。倘若有个什么目标使你们哪个人迫不及待地要达到它，你采取的步骤是在慎重考虑之后绝不会采取的，那么那个目标的确就会由于你的从容不迫而达不到。但一个真正好的目标是不会因为你的稳当而失去的。你们中现在有不满的人，仍然必须遵守原封未动的老宪法，在敏感的问题上，仍然有你们根据宪法制订的法律；而对此两者，新政府即使想要加以改变，它也不可能有立即进行改变的权力。即使承认你们那些心怀不满的人在这一争议中站在正确的一边，那也没有丝毫充足的理由来鲁莽行事。智慧、爱国之情和基督教精神，加之以对从未抛弃过这片得天独厚的土地的上帝的坚定信心，我们仍然能够以最理想的方式来解决我们当前的一切困难。

内战这个重大问题的决定权在你们手里，我的心怀不满的同胞们，而并非在我的手中。政府决不会攻击你们。只要你们自己不当侵略者，冲突就绝不会发生。你们并没有对上帝发誓要摧毁这个政府，而我将立下最庄严的誓言，一定要“保持、保护和捍卫”这个政府。

我真不愿就此结束我的讲话。我们不是敌人，而是朋友。我们绝不能成为敌人。尽管目前群情激愤，但一定不要容许它使我们之间的情感纽带破裂。记忆中的神秘琴弦，从每一个战场，每一个爱国志士的坟茔拉开，一直延伸到整个这片辽阔土地上的每一颗跳动的心和每一个家庭，它终有一天会再次被我们更善良的本性所拨动，必将再次奏出联邦合唱曲。

宾夕法尼亚的葛底斯堡演说

1863年11月19日

葛底斯堡公墓奠献仪式上的讲话。

87年前，我们的先辈在这块大陆上创建了一个新的国家。这个国家孕育于自由之中，奉行人人生而平等的原则。

现在我们正卷入一场伟大的内战，这场内战考验着这个国家，或者考验着任何一个孕育于自由并奉行上述原则的国家，是否能够长久存在下去。现在我们在这场战争中的一个伟大的战场上集会。我们来到这里，是要把这个战场的一部分，作为最后安息之所奉献给他们，奉献给那些为使这个国家能够生存下去而献出了自己生命的烈士们。我们这样做是完全应该而且是十分恰当的。

但是，从更广泛的意义上来说，我们不能奉献这块土地，不能使之神圣化。因为那些曾在这里战斗过的勇士们，包括活着的和离世的，已经把这块土地神圣化了，这远远不是我们微薄的力量所能增减的。世人们不大会注意，也不会长久地记住我们今天在这里所说的话，但勇士们在这里的丰功伟绩，世人们却永远不会忘记。所以更确切地说，倒是我们这些还活着的人，应该在这里把自己奉献于勇士们为之战斗但尚未完成的伟业，是他们把这伟业已经如此辉煌地向前推进了；倒是我们应该在这里把自己奉献于仍旧摆在我们面前的伟大任务——我们要从这些光荣的逝者身上，汲取更多的献身精神，去完成他们已经为之献出全部生命的事业；我们要在这里下定最大的决心，绝不让这些逝者白白牺牲生命；我们要使这个国家在上帝福佑下得到自由的新生；我们还要使这个民有、民治、民享的政府在地球上永世长存。

在华盛顿特区对《小夜曲》的答词

1864年11月10日

一个没有足够强大到能确保它子民自由的政府，是否能够足够强大到在紧急关头确保它自身的存在，这长久以来一直是个难以回答的问题。

最近的叛乱给共和党带来了严峻的考验也是在这样的紧急关头。而在叛乱期间按照正常程序举行的总统大选也大大加重了叛乱造成的紧张气氛。忠诚的人民团结起来，由于叛乱的刺激已被调整到最强大的状态，但倘若由于他们自身的政治斗争而导致分裂，丧失了部分勇气了，这样难道他们还一定不会失败么？

然而大选是必须进行的。

没有选举我们就不可能有自由的政府。倘若叛乱真能迫使我们放弃或者推迟国家大选，它就可以直接宣称已经战胜并摧毁了我们了。选举造成的冲突实际上是人的本性在这种事件上的体现。在这种事件上所发生的一切，在类似的事件上一定会再次发生。人的本性是不会改变的。在未来国家的任何重大事件的历练中，我们同遭受这次磨炼的人民一样，要么同样软弱，要么同样强大，要么同样愚蠢，要么同样睿智，要么同样糟糕，要么同样优秀。因此，让我们仔细研究研究这些个事件，把这一切当作哲学，从中我们可以汲取智慧，而不要把这些事件当作需要报复的借口。

但是这次大选，尽管伴有不良的冲突，也还有好的一面，因为它展现了一个民有的政府，即使在全面的内战中也能举行国家大选。到目前为止，这种可能性还未为世人知晓。这次大选也展现了我们是何等的健康与强壮。大选同时还展现了这样的情形，就是在同一党派的候选人之间，是那个对联邦奉献最多的，最彻底反对叛国行径的人，能得到民众最多的选票。大选最后还展现了这样的事实，就已经知道的情况，比之于内战之初，我们有更多的爱国战士了。黄金虽好，但那些活着的勇敢的爱国志士比黄金更为珍贵。

但是叛乱仍旧在继续。既然大选已经结束，所有有着共同愿景的人难道就不可以重新团结起来，同仇敌忾，来挽救我们的国家么？我个人已经努力过，我还要继续努力，铲除救国道路上的所有障碍。只要我还在位上，我就不愿在任何人的心房里植上痛苦之刺。

再次当选，我要深深地致意。如我所托，我要感谢全能的上帝指引我的同胞作出正确的抉择；如我所信，同胞们是在为他们自己的福祉进行抉择，其他任何人因为大选结果遭受的失望与痛楚并没有增加我的半点满足。

我可以吁请那些与我没有分歧的国民与我一起努力奋斗吗？怀着同样的精神我可以吁请那些与我有分歧的国民也加入到我们之中来么？

现在，让我用三声发自内心的谢谢来结束我的讲话。一谢我们的勇敢的战士们，二谢我们勇敢的水手们，三谢他们英勇善战的指挥官们。

第二次就职演说

1865年3月4日

各位同胞：

第二次宣誓就任总统，不像第一次宣誓就职的时候那样需要发表长篇演说。那时对于奉行的路线方针多少作一些详细的说明，似乎是适当的。现在4年任期已满，在这段战争期间的每个重要时刻和阶段中都不断地发布公文，所以现在很少有什么新的发展可以奉告。这场战争至今仍为大家关注的焦点，还占用着国家大部分的精力。我们现在的武装部队的发展是一切其他问题的关键所在，对于这一点广大民众跟我是一样清楚的。而且我相信武装部队的发展情况，是可以使我们全体人民感到相当满意和鼓舞的。既然对未来寄予了很高的期望，我在这方面就不作什么大胆预言了。

4年前我就任时，所有的人都揪心于一场迫在眉睫的内战。大家都害怕内战，想尽了方法去避免它。当时我正在这里作就职演说，尽全力想不用战争的方法来拯救联邦，然而本城的反叛分子的代理人却在寻求不用战争的方法来破坏联邦。这些人力图瓦解联邦，并以谈判的方式来分割联邦财产。双方都反对战争，但是一方宁可开战而不愿让国家生存，另一方则宁可接受战争，也不愿国家灭亡。于是这场战争就爆发了。

我们全国人口的八分之一是黑人奴隶，他们并非遍布整个联邦，只是集中地分布于联邦南部。这些奴隶构成了一种特殊而又重大的权益。众所周知这种权益可以说是这场战争的起因。为了达到加强、保持及扩大这种权益的目的，反叛分子会不惜以战争来分裂联邦，而政府只不过声称要限制这种权益在那些准州的扩张。当初，任何一方都没有想到这场战争会爆发，没有料想到战争会发展到那样大的规模，也没有料想到战争会持续那么长的时间。也没有哪一方料到冲突的原因会随着冲突本身的终止而终止，更没有料想到冲突的原因甚至会在冲突本身终止之前而终止。双方都在寻求比较容易获胜的途径，都没有期望获得根本性的和惊人的胜利结果。双方都念诵同一本《圣经》，向同一个上帝祈祷，而且每一方都祈求同一个上帝的援助以反对另一方。有人竟敢求助于上帝，来夺取他人脸上流下来的汗水换来的面包，这似乎是不可思议的。不过我们还是不要议论别人，免得被别人议论。

双方的祈祷都不可能够如愿，而且没有哪一方得到了充分满足。上帝自有他自己的意图：“因为有恶所以世人要蒙难！罪恶总是要来的。但是那个作恶之人亦要遭祸！”假使我们以为美国的奴隶制度是这种罪恶之一，而这些罪恶按上帝的意志是必然要降临的，但罪恶的存在已超过上帝所指定的时间，上帝现在便要消除这些罪恶；假使是上帝把这场可怖的战争加在联邦南北双方的头上，作为对那些作恶之人的责罚，难道我们应该认为这其中有悖于笃信上帝的信徒们向来所歌颂上帝的那些圣德吗？我们天真地希望着，我们热诚地祈祷着，希望和祈祷这战争的重罚可以很快地过去。可是，假使上帝要让战争再继续下去，直到250年来奴隶无偿辛劳所积聚的财富化为乌有，并像3000年前所说的那样，等到鞭笞所流的每一滴血，被刀剑之下所流的每一滴血所抵偿，那么我们仍然只能说：“主的判决是完全正确而且公道的。”

我们对任何人都不怀恶意，我们对任何人都示以宽容。上帝让我们看到正义，我们就坚定地笃信正义。让我们继续奋斗，以完成我们正在进行的事业，去治疗祖国的创伤，去照顾战场上的勇士和他的孤儿遗孀，尽力实现并珍爱我们自己之间和我国与他国之间的公正和持久的和平。

在华盛顿特区对《小夜曲》的答词

1865年4月10号

各位市民：我非常高兴地发现有件事非常令人愉快，以至于人们现在控制不住自己了。[欢呼]我认为那些安排是在准备某种正式的游行，就在今晚或许就在明晚吧。[“我们等不及啦！”“就要现在！”的叫喊声]倘若有这样的游行，我肯定会被叫来作答的。不过如果事先你们把我撇开的话，我到时可是啥都不说的。[笑声和掌声]我看到你们带了乐队。[“我们有两三个乐队呢。”]我提议用一首特别的曲子来结束这次会见，由你们的乐队来演奏。不过，在演奏前，我想说说与这首曲子相关的一两个小背景。我向来认为《南国》是我曾经听过的最好的曲子之一。我们还在途中的对手们试图挪用这首曲子，但是我坚持认为我们昨天已经公平地俘获了它。[掌声]我把这个问题提交给了我们的司法部长，他已经从法律的角度给出意见，说这首曲子是我们合法的战利品。[笑声和掌声]我现在就恳请乐队把他们的演奏赐予我吧。

林肯的最后一次公开演说

［在华盛顿特区关于重建的发言］

1865年4月11日

我们今晚在此聚会，心里充满着欢喜而不是悲伤。叛军从彼得斯堡和里士满的撤离以及叛军主力部队的投降，使正义的和平有希望迅速地到来，这种喜悦之情实在难以抑制。然而，在这欢庆时刻，我们千万不要忘记赐予我们殷殷福祉之上帝。呼吁举行一个全国的感恩盛会正在紧锣密鼓的筹备中，具体的举办日期将适时予以公布。除此之外，那些担任更艰巨的任务，给我们带来欢乐的人也不应该被忘记。绝不要把他们获得的荣誉与其他人平分共享。我本人去过前线，很荣幸把许多好消息传达给你们。但是，计划也好、计划的执行也好，没有一丁点荣誉是属于我的。所有的荣誉都该归于格兰特将军，归于他的精通军事的指挥官们和勇敢的士兵们。勇敢的海军严阵以待，只不过没触及战事，还没有投入战斗。

重新恢复国家权力，重建南方，这是我们一开始就主要考虑的问题。最近的节节胜利，迫切使我们更加密切地关注这个问题。重建南部真是困难重重。这不像两个独立的国家之间的战争，对方没有一个权力机构可与我们协商。没有一个人有权代表其他任何人放弃叛乱。我们必须从那些个无组织无统一意见的单个人入手，逐渐摸清情况。此外，我们忠诚于联邦的人之间也有个不小的麻烦，因为我们就重建南方的方式方法和手段都有分歧。

一般来说，对于攻击我自身的报告我是不看的，对那些报告我不能给予恰当的回应，因此也想着不被激怒。然而，尽管如此小心谨慎，我还是知道了有人在挞伐我，说我指示一个子虚乌有的机构负责建立并维护一个新的路易斯安那州政府。在这个问题上，我所做的一切公众都是知晓的，仅此而已，不多不少。在1863年的年度咨文及其附带声明中，我提出了一个重建计划（就是个计划），并作出承诺，倘若哪个州采纳了该计划，联邦的行政机构必须予以接受和支持。我当时还明确指出，这不是唯一可以为政府所接受的计划。同时我还明确表示，行政首脑无权决定何时或者是否从这些个州接纳议员进入国会占据席位。这个计划当时是预先提交给内阁的，并得到了全体内阁成员的赞同。有一位阁员还建议，基于那种联系，我应该把《解放宣言》运用到弗吉尼亚和路易斯安那两州在此之前没有适用该宣言的地区；劝我放弃对获得自由的黑人实行徒工的建议；还劝我在接纳成员进入议会这件事上不要宣布放弃自己的权力。但即使是这位议员，他也对该计划的各个重要部分都表示赞同。从那时起，弗吉尼亚那边的工作就一直按照或参照这个计划进行的。路易斯安那州的新宪法宣布解放整个州的奴隶，实际上把《解放宣言》运用到了先前被排除了的地区。那里对获得自由的人也不使用徒工制。对接纳成员进入国会一事也保持沉默，当然它也别无他法。因此，当该计划应用到路易斯安那时，内阁的每个成员都表示完全赞同。当咨文送交国会时，我收到了许多对该计划的赞许，口头的有，书面的也有。在路易斯安那人民开始按照计划行动的消息传到华盛顿之前，我没有听到任何一个自称废奴主义者的人对此计划有任何反对意见。大概从1862年7月起，我就同那些不同的据说对此有兴趣的人通信，一起寻求重建路易斯安那州政府的途径。当1863年的咨文连同上述的重建计划到达新奥尔良时，班克斯将军写信告诉我，说相信通过与他的军队的合作，该州人民会大体上根据该计划重建路易斯安那的。我写信给他和其他一些人，要他们尝试一下，他们就进行了尝试，结果大家已经知晓了。这就是所谓的我操控建立路易斯安那州政府的代理机构。说维护这个州政府，我的诺言如前所述，已经说出去了。但是，不好的诺言宜破不宜守，我就把这个诺言当作不好的诺言吧，无论什么时候只要使我相信这个诺言有悖于公众利益，我就摒弃它。不过我目前还不相信这个诺言已悖于公众利益。

有人已经让我看过有关这个问题的一封信，据说信写得很有水平，其中表达了写信者的遗憾，说我的心思似乎没有明确专注于所谓的脱离的各州到底是属于联邦还是已经不属于联邦这个问题。倘若这个人知道自从我发现有些自称拥护联邦的人竭力杜撰这个问题，我已经故意克制自己不对这个问题公开表态之后，想必那个写信之人除了遗憾之外，还会大为惊诧了。在我看来，这个问题过去不是，现在仍然不是个有实质意义的问题。因为它仍然是个无实质意义的问题，所以现在再怎么讨论，除了离间朋友这个有害的作用外没有任何其他效果。不管以后这个问题会变成什么性质，至少现在它不适合作为争论的基础，它根本就是一无是处，纯粹是个有害的抽象概念而已。

我们都一致认为，所谓的脱离各州实际上已同联邦脱离了正式的关系。联邦政府的唯一目的，不论在政务和军事方面，就是要使那些州恢复同联邦的实际关系。我相信这不仅可能，实际上，只要不觉得甚至不考虑这些州是否脱离过联邦，比觉得或考虑这些州曾经脱离过联邦，更容易做到这一点。发现他们这些州安全地在家里，那么他们到底有没有出过国（脱离过联邦）将完全不重要了。让我们携起手来，采取必要的行动，恢复这些州与联邦的实际关系。以后每个人在行动时，都可以尽情发挥自己的想象，无论是想象着把这些州从外面带入联邦，还是想象着只是给予这些州一些适当的帮助，其实它们从来就没有脱离过联邦，怎么想都行。

可以这么说，新的路易斯安那州政府依赖的是选民数。如果这些选民达到五万，三万，甚至只是两万，那也比现在的一万二千更让大家满意。有些人现在也对没有给予黑人以选举权而不满。我自己倒宁愿现在就给予那些充满才智、给予那些为我们的事业而作战的黑人以选举权。还有，现在的问题倒不是路易斯安那州政府是否十分如我们所愿。真正的问题应该是“接受现状并对其加以改善更明智呢？还是拒不承认并予以解散更明智呢？”“把路易斯安那带到与联邦正确的实际关系轨道上来，是支持新的州政府来得更快些呢？还是摒弃新的州政府来得更快些呢？”

在这以前一直是个蓄奴州的路易斯安那大概只有一万二千名选民，他们都已宣誓效忠联邦，并自认为是该州合法的政治力量。这些人举行了选举，组织了州政府，通过了自由州宪法，把公立学校的利益让黑人和白人共同分享，并授权立法机关授予黑人以选举权。该州的立法机关已经投票国会近来通过的在全国废除奴隶制的宪法修正案。这一万二千人就是一心一意效忠于联邦的事业，致力于该州黑人永享自由，致力于纯粹的事业，致力于联邦几乎所有的事业。他们要求得到联邦的承认和帮助，以便为联邦更好地承担义务。

现在，如果我们拒绝他们，摒弃他们，那就等于不顾一切地去拆散他们、瓦解他们。这样做事实上就等于对那些白人说：“你们毫无价值，比垃圾还垃圾。我们既不帮你们，也无须你们帮助。”对于黑人实际上就在说：“你们的旧主人把这杯自由的美酒捧到你们嘴边，我们将要把它打翻，你们就去碰运气收集溅落在地上的酒花吧。什么时候捡，哪个地方捡和如何捡都待定。”这种连白人和黑人都丧气和放弃的话还能恢复路易斯安那和联邦之间的实际关系，我反正是至今没有看出来。反之，倘若我们承认和维护新的路易斯安那州政府，那么相反的情况会变为现实。我们就鼓舞这一万二千人，激励他们去忠于他们的事业，为新政府申辩，为新政府争取支持者，为新政府而战，培育它，茁壮它，直至获得全面的成功。黑人们看到大家团结起来为他们而战，也会受到鼓舞，从而更警惕地、更朝气蓬勃地、更无畏地为共同的最后目标而奋斗。给予黑人们期望的选举权，从已经跨出来的几步继续朝前走，难道不比后退几步重新走更快些吗？承认路易斯安那新政府和我们心目中应该的政府之间的关系如同鸡蛋和小鸡的关系一样，那么我们要得到小鸡，直接孵鸡蛋不比把鸡蛋打碎更快吗？

还有，倘若我们摒弃路易斯安那，也就摒弃了投给已获通过的国家宪法修正案的一个赞成票。为了使修正案生效，有人主张过只要有四分之三未曾试图脱离联邦的州同意就行了。我本人并不反对这个主张，但是我还是说这种认可方式是有问题的，是会不断受到质疑的。倘若是受到全国四分之三的州认可的话，就不会有问题，就不会受到质疑。

我再重复一下这个问题：“要使路易斯安那纳入同联邦的正确而实际的关系轨道上来，到底是支持新的州政府更快些呢？还是摒弃它更快些呢？”

关于路易斯安那州所说的这些话，一般会运用到其他各州。可是每个州又都有自己的特别之处，而同一个州又一下子发生了如此多的重要变化；而且，这整个事件都是新的、史无前例的，所以不可能有预定好的，包罗一切细枝末节的安全的永久不变的计划。这种包罗万象的永久不变的计划势必会成为新的纠纷之源。只有重要的原则可以而且必须固定不变。

在目前向前发展的形势下，对南方人民作个新的宣言也许是我的职责。这件事我正在酝酿，一旦酝酿成熟令我满意，觉得这个举措合适时，就会付诸行动。

Abraham Lincoln

The Gettysburg Address

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

目录

Speech on the Kansas-Nebraska act at Peoria, Illinois

'House Divided' Speech at Springfield, Illinois

Address at Cooper Institute, New York City

Farewell Address at Springfield, Illinois

First Inaugural Address

Address at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Response to Serenade, Washington, D.C.

Second Inaugural Address

Response to Serenade, Washington, D.C.

Lincoln's Final Public Address

返回分册总目录

Speech on the Kansas-Nebraska act at Peoria, Illinois

16 October, 1854

Mr Lincoln's Speech

On Monday, October 16, Senator Douglas, by appointment, addressed a large audience at Peoria. When he closed he was greeted with six hearty cheers; and the band in attendance played a stirring air. The crowd then began to call for LINCOLN, who, as Judge Douglas had announced was, by agreement, to answer him. Mr Lincoln then took the stand, and said -

'I do not arise to speak now, if I can stipulate with the audience to meet me here at half past 6 or at 7 o'clock. It is now several minutes past five, and Judge Douglas has spoken over three hours. If you hear me at all, I wish you to hear me thro'. It will take me as long as it has taken him. That will carry us beyond eight o'clock at night. Now every one of you who can remain that long, can just as well get his supper, meet me at seven, and remain one hour or two later. The Judge has already informed you that he is to have an hour to reply to me. I doubt not but you have been a little surprised to learn that I have consented to give one of his high reputation and known ability, this advantage of me. Indeed, my consenting to it, though reluctant, was not wholly unselfish; for I suspected if it were understood, that the Judge was entirely done, you democrats would leave, and not hear me; but by giving him the close, I felt confident you would stay for the fun of hearing him skin me.'

The audience signified their assent to the arrangement, and adjourned to 7 o'clock P.M., at which time they re-assembled, and Mr LINCOLN spoke substantially as follows:

The repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and the propriety of its restoration, constitute the subject of what I am about to say.

As I desire to present my own connected view of this subject, my remarks will not be, specifically, an answer to Judge Douglas; yet, as I proceed, the main points he has presented will arise, and will receive such respectful attention as I may be able to give them.

I wish further to say, that I do not propose to question the patriotism, or to assail the motives of any man, or class of men; but rather to strictly confine myself to the naked merits of the question.

I also wish to be no less than National in all the positions I may take; and whenever I take ground which others have thought, or may think, narrow, sectional and dangerous to the Union, I hope to give a reason, which will appear sufficient, at least to some, why I think differently.

And, as this subject is no other, than part and parcel of the larger general question of domestic-slavery, I wish to MAKE and to KEEP the distinction between the EXISTING institution, and the EXTENSION of it, so broad, and so clear, that no honest man can misunderstand me, and no dishonest one, successfully misrepresent me.

In order to a clear understanding of what the Missouri Compromise is, a short history of the preceding kindred subjects will perhaps be proper. When we established our independence, we did not own, or claim, the country to which this compromise applies. Indeed, strictly speaking, the confederacy then owned no country at all; the States respectively owned the country within their limits; and some of them owned territory beyond their strict State limits. Virginia thus owned the North-Western territory - the country out of which the principal part of Ohio, all Indiana, all Illinois, all Michigan and all Wisconsin, have since been formed. She also owned (perhaps within her then limits) what has since been formed into the State of Kentucky. North Carolina thus owned what is now the State of Tennessee; and South Carolina and Georgia, in separate parts, owned what are now Mississippi and Alabama. Connecticut, I think, owned the little remaining part of Ohio - being the same where they now send Giddings to Congress, and beat all creation at making cheese. These territories, together with the States themselves, constituted all the country over which the confederacy then claimed any sort of jurisdiction. We were then living under the Articles of Confederation, which were superceded by the Constitution several years afterwards. The question of ceding these territories to the general government was set on foot. Mr Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, and otherwise a chief actor in the revolution; then a delegate in Congress; afterwards twice President; who was, is, and perhaps will continue to be, the most distinguished politician of our history; a Virginian by birth and continued residence, and withal, a slave-holder; conceived the idea of taking that occasion, to prevent slavery ever going into the north-western territory. He prevailed on the Virginia Legislature to adopt his views, and to cede the territory, making the prohibition of slavery therein, a condition of the deed. Congress accepted the cession, with the condition; and in the first Ordinance (which the acts of Congress were then called) for the government of the territory, pro- vided that slavery should never be permitted therein. This is the famed ordinance of '87 so often spoken of. Henceforward, for sixty-one years, and until in 1848, the last scrap of this territory came into the Union as the State of Wisconsin, all parties acted in quiet obedience to this ordinance. It is now what Jefferson foresaw and intended - the happy home of teeming millions of free, white, prosperous people, and no slave amongst them.

Thus, with the author of the Declaration of Independence, the policy of prohibiting slavery in new territory originated. Thus, away back of the constitution, in the pure fresh, free breath of the revolution, the State of Virginia, and the National congress put that policy in practice. Thus through sixty odd of the best years of the republic did that policy steadily work to its great and beneficent end. And thus, in those five states, and five millions of free, enterprising people, we have before us the rich fruits of this policy. But now new light breaks upon us. Now congress declares this ought never to have been; and the like of it, must never be again. The sacred right of self government is grossly violated by it! We even find some men, who drew their first breath, and every other breath of their lives, under this very restriction, now live in dread of absolute suffocation, if they should be restricted in the 'sacred right' of taking slaves to Nebraska. That perfect liberty they sigh for - the liberty of making slaves of other people - Jefferson never thought of; their own father never thought of; they never thought of themselves, a year ago. How fortunate for them, they did not sooner become sensible of their great misery! Oh, how difficult it is to treat with respect, such assaults upon all we have ever really held sacred.

But to return to history. In 1803 we purchased what was then called Louisiana, of France. It included the now states of Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, and Iowa; also the territory of Minnesota, and the present bone of contention, Kansas and Nebraska. Slavery already existed among the French at New Orleans; and, to some extent, at St Louis. In 1812 Louisiana came into the Union as a slave state, without controversy. In 1818 or '19, Missouri showed signs of a wish to come in with slavery. This was resisted by northern members of Congress; and thus began the first great slavery agitation in the nation. This controversy lasted several months, and became very angry and exciting; the House of Representatives voting steadily for the prohibition of slavery in Missouri, and the Senate voting as steadily against it. Threats of breaking up the Union were freely made; and the ablest public men of the day became seriously alarmed. At length a compromise was made, in which, like all compromises, both sides yielded something. It was a law passed on the 6th day of March, 1820, providing that Missouri might come into the Union with slavery, but that in all the remaining part of the territory purchased of France, which lies north of 36 degrees and 30 minutes north latitude, slavery should never be permitted. This provision of law, is the Missouri Compromise. In excluding slavery North of the line, the same language is employed as in the Ordinance of '87. It directly applied to Iowa, Minnesota, and to the present bone of contention, Kansas and Nebraska. Whether there should or should not, be slavery south of that line, nothing was said in the law; but Arkansas constituted the principal remaining part, south of the line; and it has since been admitted as a slave state without serious controversy. More recently, Iowa, north of the line, came in as a free state without controversy. Still later, Minnesota, north of the line, had a territorial organization without controversy. Texas principally south of the line, and West of Arkansas; though originally within the purchase from France, had, in 1819, been traded off to Spain, in our treaty for the acquisition of Florida. It had thus become a part of Mexico. Mexico revolutionized and became independent of Spain. American citizens began settling rapidly, with their slaves in the southern part of Texas. Soon they revolutionized against Mexico, and established an independent government of their own, adopting a constitution, with slavery, strongly resembling the constitutions of our slave states. By still another rapid move, Texas, claiming a boundary much further West, than when we parted with her in 1819, was brought back to the United States, and admitted into the Union as a slave state. There then was little or no settlement in the northern part of Texas, a considerable portion of which lay north of the Missouri line; and in the resolutions admitting her into the Union, the Missouri restriction was expressly extended westward across her territory. This was in 1845, only nine years ago.

Thus originated the Missouri Compromise; and thus has it been respected down to 1845. And even four years later, in 1849, our distinguished Senator, in a public address, held the following language in relation to it:

'The Missouri Compromise had been in practical operation for about a quarter of a century, and had received the sanction and approbation of men of all parties in every section of the Union. It had allayed all sectional jealousies and irritations growing out of this vexed question, and harmonized and tranquilized the whole country. It had given to Henry Clay, as its prominent champion, the proud sobriquet of the "Great Pacificator" and by that title and for that service, his political friends had repeatedly appealed to the people to rally under his standard, as a presidential candidate, as the man who had exhibited the patriotism and the power to suppress, an unholy and treasonable agitation, and preserve the Union. He was not aware that any man or any party from any section of the Union, had ever urged as an objection to Mr Clay, that he was the great champion of the Missouri Compromise. On the contrary, the effort was made by the opponents of Mr Clay, to prove that he was not entitled to the exclusive merit of that great patriotic measure, and that the honor was equally due to others as well as to him, for securing its adoption - that it had its origin in the hearts of all patriotic men, who desired to preserve and perpetuate the blessings of our glorious Union - an origin akin that of the constitution of the United States, conceived in the same spirit of fraternal affection, and calculated to remove forever, the only danger, which seemed to threaten, at some distant day, to sever the social bond of union. All the evidences of public opinion at that day, seemed to indicate that this Compromise had been canonized in the hearts of the American people, as a sacred thing which no ruthless hand would ever be reckless enough to disturb.'

I do not read this extract to involve Judge Douglas in an inconsistency. If he afterwards thought he had been wrong, it was right for him to change. I bring this forward merely to show the high estimate placed on the Missouri Compromise by all parties up to so late as the year 1849.

But, going back a little, in point of time, our war with Mexico broke out in 1846. When Congress was about adjourning that session, President Polk asked them to place two millions of dollars under his control, to be used by him in the recess, if found practicable and expedient, in negotiating a treaty of peace with Mexico, and acquiring some part of her territory. A bill was duly got up, for the purpose, and was progressing swimmingly, in the House of Representatives, when a member by the name of David Wilmot, a democrat from Pennsylvania, moved as an amendment 'Provided that in any territory thus acquired, there shall never be slavery'.

This is the origin of the far-famed 'Wilmot Proviso.' It created a great flutter; but it stuck like wax, was voted into the bill, and the bill passed with it through the House. The Senate, however, adjourned without final action on it and so both the appropriation and proviso were lost, for the time. The war continued, and at the next session, the president renewed his request for the appropriation, enlarging the amount, I think, to three million. Again came the proviso; and defeated the measure. Congress adjourned again, and the war went on. In Dec., 1847, the new congress assembled. I was in the lower House that term. The 'Wilmot Proviso' or the principle of it, was constantly coming up in some shape or other, and I think I may venture to say I voted for it at least forty times; during the short term I was there. The Senate, however, held it in check, and it never became law. In the spring of 1848 a treaty of peace was made with Mexico; by which we obtained that portion of her country which now constitutes the territories of New Mexico and Utah, and the now state of California. By this treaty the Wilmot Proviso was defeated, as so far as it was intended to be, a condition of the acquisition of territory. Its friends however, were still determined to find some way to restrain slavery from getting into the new country. This new acquisition lay directly West of our old purchase from France, and extended west to the Pacific ocean - and was so situated that if the Missouri line should be extended straight West, the new country would be divided by such extended line, leaving some North and some South of it. On Judge Douglas' motion a bill, or provision of a bill, passed the Senate to so extend the Missouri line. The Proviso men in the House, including myself, voted it down, because by implication, it gave up the Southern part to slavery, while we were bent on having it all free.

In the fall of 1848 the gold mines were discovered in California. This attracted people to it with unprecedented rapidity, so that on, or soon after, the meeting of the new congress in Dec., 1849, she already had a population of nearly a hundred thousand, had called a convention, formed a state constitution, excluding slavery, and was knocking for admission into the Union. The Proviso men, of course, were for letting her in, but the Senate, always true to the other side would not consent to her admission. And there California stood, kept out of the Union, because she would not let slavery into her borders. Under all the circumstances perhaps this was not wrong. There were other points of dispute, connected with the general question of slavery, which equally needed adjustment. The South clamored for a more efficient fugitive slave law. The North clamored for the abolition of a peculiar species of slave trade in the District of Columbia, in connection with which, in view from the windows of the capitol, a sort of negrolivery stable, where droves of negroes were collected, temporarily kept, and finally taken to Southern markets, precisely like droves of horses, had been openly maintained for fifty years. Utah and New Mexico needed territorial governments; and whether slavery should or should not be prohibited within them, was another question. The indefinite Western boundary of Texas was to be settled. She was received a slave state; and consequently the farther West the slavery men could push her boundary, the more slave country they secured. And the farther East the slavery opponents could thrust the boundary back, the less slave ground was secured. Thus this was just as clearly a slavery question as any of the others.

These points all needed adjustment; and they were all held up, perhaps wisely to make them help to adjust one another. The Union, now, as in 1820, was thought to be in danger; and devotion to the Union rightfully inclined men to yield somewhat, in points where nothing else could have so inclined them. A compromise was finally effected. The south got their new fugitive-slave law; and the North got California, (the far best part of our acquisition from Mexico,) as a free State. The south got a provision that New Mexico and Utah, when admitted as States, may come in with or without slavery as they may then choose; and the north got the slave-trade abolished in the District of Columbia. The north got the western boundaries of Texas, thence further back eastward than the south desired; but, in turn, they gave Texas ten millions of dollars, with which to pay her old debts. This is the Compromise of 1850.

Preceding the Presidential election of 1852, each of the great political parties, democrats and whigs, met in convention, and adopted resolutions endorsing the compromise of '50; as a 'finality,' a final settlement, so far as these parties could make it so, of all slavery agitation. Previous to this, in 1851, the Illinois Legislature had indorsed it.

During this long period of time Nebraska had remained, substantially an uninhabited country, but now emigration to, and settlement within it began to take place. It is about one third as large as the present United States, and its importance so long overlooked, begins to come into view. The restriction of slavery by the Missouri Compromise directly applies to it; in fact, was first made, and has since been maintained, expressly for it. In 1853, a bill to give it a territorial government passed the House of Representatives, and, in the hands of Judge Douglas, failed of passing the Senate only for want of time. This bill contained no repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Indeed, when it was assailed because it did not contain such repeal, Judge Douglas defended it in its existing form. On January 4th, 1854, Judge Douglas introduces a new bill to give Nebraska territorial government. He accompanies this bill with a report, in which last, he expressly recommends that the Missouri Compromise shall neither be affirmed nor repealed. Before long the bill is so modified as to make two territories instead of one; calling the Southern one Kansas.

Also, about a month after the introduction of the bill, on the judge's own motion, it is so amended as to declare the Missouri Compromise inoperative and void; and, substantially, that the People who go and settle there may establish slavery, or exclude it, as they may see fit. In this shape the bill passed both branches of congress, and became a law.

This is the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The foregoing history may not be precisely accurate in every particular; but I am sure it is sufficiently so, for all the uses I shall attempt to make of it, and in it, we have before us, the chief material enabling us to correctly judge whether the repeal of the Missouri Compromise is right or wrong.

I think, and shall try to show, that it is wrong; wrong in its direct effect, letting slavery into Kansas and Nebraska - and wrong in its prospective principle, allowing it to spread to every other part of the wide world, where men can be found inclined to take it.

This declared indifference, but as I must think, covert real zeal for the spread of slavery, I can not but hate. I hate it because of the monstrous injustice of slavery itself. I hate it because it deprives our republican example of its just influence in the world - enables the enemies of free institutions, with plausibility, to taunt us as hypocrites - causes the real friends of freedom to doubt our sincerity, and especially because it forces so many really good men amongst ourselves into an open war with the very fundamental principles of civil liberty - criticising the Declaration of Independence, and insisting that there is no right principle of action but self-interest.

Before proceeding, let me say I think I have no prejudice against the Southern people. They are just what we would be in their situation. If slavery did not now exist amongst them, they would not introduce it. If it did now exist amongst us, we should not instantly give it up. This I believe of the masses north and south. Doubtless there are individuals, on both sides, who would not hold slaves under any circumstances; and others who would gladly introduce slavery anew, if it were out of existence. We know that some southern men do free their slaves, go north, and become tip-top abolitionists; while some northern ones go south, and become most cruel slavemasters.

When southern people tell us they are no more responsible for the origin of slavery, than we; I acknowledge the fact. When it is said that the institution exists; and that it is very difficult to get rid of it, in any satisfactory way, I can understand and appreciate the saying. I surely will not blame them for not doing what I should not know how to do myself. If all earthly power were given me, I should not know what to do, as to the existing institution. My first impulse would be to free all the slaves, and send them to Liberia, - to their own native land. But a moment's reflection would convince me, that whatever of high hope, (as I think there is) there may be in this, in the long run, its sudden execution is impossible. If they were all landed there in a day, they would all perish in the next ten days; and there are not surplus shipping and surplus money enough in the world to carry them there in many times ten days. What then? Free them all, and keep them among us as underlings? Is it quite certain that this betters their condition? I think I would not hold one in slavery, at any rate; yet the point is not clear enough for me to denounce people upon. What next? Free them, and make them politically and socially, our equals? My own feelings will not admit of this; and if mine would, we well know that those of the great mass of white people will not. Whether this feeling accords with justice and sound judgment, is not the sole question, if indeed, it is any part of it. A universal feeling, whether well or ill-founded, can not be safely disregarded. We can not, then, make them equals. It does seem to me that systems of gradual emancipation might be adopted; but for their tardiness in this, I will not undertake to judge our brethren of the south.

When they remind us of their constitutional rights, I acknowledge them, not grudgingly, but fully, and fairly; and I would give them any legislation for the reclaiming of their fugitives, which should not, in its stringency, be more likely to carry a free man into slavery, than our ordinary criminal laws are to hang an innocent one.

But all this, to my judgment, furnishes no more excuse for permitting slavery to go into our own free territory, than it would for reviving the African slave trade by law. The law which forbids the bringing of slaves from Africa; and that which has so long forbid the taking them to Nebraska, can hardly be distinguished on any moral principle; and the repeal of the former could find quite as plausible excuses as that of the latter.

The arguments by which the repeal of the Missouri Compromise is sought to be justified, are these:

First, that the Nebraska country needed a territorial government.

Second, that in various ways, the public had repudiated it, and demanded the repeal; and therefore should not now complain of it.

And lastly, that the repeal establishes a principle, which is intrinsically right.

I will attempt an answer to each of them in its turn.

First, then, if that country was in need of a territorial organization, could it not have had it as well without as with the repeal? Iowa and Minnesota, to both of which the Missouri restriction applied, had, without its repeal, each in succession, territorial organizations. And even, the year before, a bill for Nebraska itself, was within an ace of passing, without the repealing clause; and this in the hands of the same men who are now the champions of repeal. Why no necessity then for the repeal? But still later, when this very bill was first brought in, it contained no repeal. But, say they, because the public had demanded, or rather commanded the repeal, the repeal was to accompany the organization, whenever that should occur.

Now I deny that the public ever demanded any such thing - ever repudiated the Missouri Compromise - ever commanded its repeal. I deny it, and call for the proof. It is not contended, I believe, that any such command has ever been given in express terms. It is only said that it was done in principle. The support of the Wilmot Proviso, is the first fact mentioned, to prove that the Missouri restriction was repudiated in principle, and the second is, the refusal to extend the Missouri line over the country acquired from Mexico. These are near enough alike to be treated together. The one was to exclude the chances of slavery from the whole new acquisition by the lump; and the other was to reject a division of it, by which one half was to be given up to those chances. Now whether this was a repudiation of the Missouri line, in principle, depends upon whether the Missouri law contained any principle requiring the line to be extended over the country acquired from Mexico. I contend it did not. I insist that it contained no general principle, but that it was, in every sense, specific. That its terms limit it to the country purchased from France, is undenied and undeniable. It could have no principle beyond the intention of those who made it. They did not intend to extend the line to country which they did not own. If they intended to extend it, in the event of acquiring additional territory, why did they not say so? It was just as easy to say, that 'in all the country west of the Mississippi, which we now own, or may hereafter acquire there shall never be slavery,' as to say, what they did say; and they would have said it if they had meant it. An intention to extend the law is not only not mentioned in the law, but it is not mentioned in any contemporaneous history. Both the law itself, and the history of the times are a blank as to any principle of extension; and by neither the known rules for construing statutes and contracts, nor by common sense, can any such principle be inferred.

Another fact showing the specific character of the Missouri law - showing that it intended no more than it expressed - showing that the line was not intended as a universal dividing line between free and slave territory, present and prospective - north of which slavery could never go - is the fact that by that very law, Missouri came in as a slave State, north of the line. If that law contained any prospective principle, the whole law must be looked to in order to ascertain what the principle was. And by this rule, the south could fairly contend that inasmuch as they got one slave state north of the line at the inception of the law, they have the right to have another given them north of it occasionally - now and then in the indefinite westward extension of the line. This demonstrates the absurdity of attempting to deduce a prospective principle from the Missouri Compromise line.

When we voted for the Wilmot Proviso, we were voting to keep slavery out of the whole Mexican acquisition; and little did we think we were thereby voting, to let it into Nebraska, laying several hundred miles distant. When we voted against extending the Missouri line, little did we think we were voting to destroy the old line, then of near thirty years standing. To argue that we thus repudiated the Missouri Compromise is no less absurd than it would be to argue that because we have, so far, forborne to acquire Cuba, we have thereby, in principle, repudiated our former acquisitions, and determined to throw them out of the Union! No less absurd than it would be to say that because I may have refused to build an addition to my house, I thereby have decided to destroy the existing house! And if I catch you setting fire to my house, you will turn upon me and say I INSTRUCTED you to do it! The most conclusive argument, however, that, while voting for the Wilmot Proviso, and while voting against the EXTENSION of the Missouri line, we never thought of disturbing the original Missouri Compromise, is found in the facts, that there was then, and still is, an unorganized tract of fine country, nearly as large as the state of Missouri, lying immediately west of Arkansas, and south of the Missouri Compromise line; and that we never attempted to prohibit slavery as to it. I wish particular attention to this. It adjoins the original Missouri Compromise line, by its northern boundary; and consequently it is part of the country, into which, by implication, slavery was permitted to go, by that compromise. There it has lain open ever since, and there it still lies. And yet no effort has been made at any time to wrest it from the south. In all our struggles to prohibit slavery within our Mexican acquisitions, we never so much as lifted a finger to prohibit it, as to this tract. Is not this entirely conclusive that at all times, we have held the Missouri Compromise as a sacred thing; even when against ourselves, as well as when for us?

Senator Douglas sometimes says the Missouri line itself was, in principle, only an extension of the line of the ordinance of '87 - that is to say, an extension of the Ohio river. I think this is weak enough on its face. I will remark, however, that, as a glance at the map will show, the Missouri line is a long way farther South than the Ohio; and that if our Senator, in proposing his extension, had stuck to the principle of jogging southward, perhaps it might not have been voted down so readily.

But next it is said that the compromises of '50 and the ratification of them by both political parties, in '52, established a new principle, which required the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. This again I deny. I deny it, and demand the proof. I have already stated fully what the compromises of '50 are. The particular part of those measures, for which the virtual repeal of the Missouri Compromise is sought to be inferred (for it is admitted they contain nothing about it, in express terms) is the provision in the Utah and New Mexico laws, which permits them when they seek admission into the Union as States, to come in with or without slavery as they shall then see fit. Now I insist this provision was made for Utah and New Mexico, and for no other place whatever. It had no more direct reference to Nebraska than it had to the territories of the moon. But, say they, it had reference to Nebraska, in principle. Let us see. The North consented to this provision, not because they considered it right in itself; but because they were compensated - paid for it. They, at the same time, got California into the Union as a free State. This was far the best part of all they had struggled for by the Wilmot Proviso. They also got the area of slavery somewhat narrowed in the settlement of the boundary of Texas. Also, they got the slave trade abolished in the District of Columbia. For all these desirable objects the North could afford to yield something; and they did yield to the South the Utah and New Mexico provision. I do not mean that the whole North, or even a majority, yielded, when the law passed; but enough yielded, when added to the vote of the South, to carry the measure. Now can it be pretended that the principle of this arrangement requires us to permit the same provision to be applied to Nebraska, without any equivalent at all? Give us another free State; press the boundary of Texas still further back, give us another step toward the destruction of slavery in the District, and you present us a similar case. But ask us not to repeat, for nothing, what you paid for in the first instance. If you wish the thing again, pay again. That is the principle of the compromises of '50, if indeed they had any principles beyond their specific terms - it was the system of equivalents.

Again, if Congress, at that time, intended that all future territories should, when admitted as States, come in with or without slavery, at their own option, why did it not say so? With such an universal provision, all know the bills could not have passed. Did they, then - could they - establish a principle contrary to their own intention? Still further, if they intended to establish the principle that wherever Congress had control, it should be left to the people to do as they thought fit with slavery why did they not authorize the people of the District of Columbia at their adoption to abolish slavery within these limits? I personally know that this has not been left undone, because it was unthought of. It was frequently spoken of by members of Congress and by citizens of Washington six years ago; and I heard no one express a doubt that a system of gradual emancipation, with compensation to owners, would meet the approbation of a large majority of the white people of the District. But without the action of Congress they could say nothing; and Congress said 'no.' In the measures of 1850 Congress had the subject of slavery in the District expressly in hand. If they were then establishing the principle of allowing the people to do as they please with slavery, why did they not apply the principle to that people?

Again, it is claimed that by the Resolutions of the Illinois Legislature, passed in 1851, the repeal of the Missouri Compromise was demanded. This I deny also. Whatever may be worked out by a criticism of the language of those resolutions, the people have never understood them as being any more than an endorsement of the compromises of 1850; and a release of our Senators from voting for the Wilmot Proviso. The whole people are living witnesses, that this only, was their view. Finally, it is asked 'If we did not mean to apply the Utah and New Mexico provision, to all future territories, what did we mean, when we, in 1852, endorsed the compromises of '50?'

For myself, I can answer this question most easily. I meant not to ask a repeal, or modification of the fugitive slave law. I meant not to ask for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. I meant not to resist the admission of Utah and New Mexico, even should they ask to come in as slave States. I meant nothing about additional territories, because, as I understood, we then had no territory whose character as to slavery was not already settled. As to Nebraska, I regarded its character as being fixed, by the Missouri Compromise, for thirty years - as unalterably fixed as that of my own home in Illinois. As to new acquisitions I said 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' When we make new acquisitions, we will, as heretofore, try to manage them some how. That is my answer. That is what I meant and said; and I appeal to the people to say, each for himself, whether that was not also the universal meaning of the free States.

And now, in turn, let me ask a few questions. If by any, or all these matters, the repeal of the Missouri Compromise was commanded, why was not the command sooner obeyed? Why was the repeal omitted in the Nebraska bill of 1853? Why was it omitted in the original bill of 1854? Why, in the accompanying report, was such a repeal characterized as a departure from the course pursued in 1850? And its continued omission recommended?

I am aware Judge Douglas now argues that the sub sequent express repeal is no substantial alteration of the bill. This argument seems wonderful to me. It is as if one should argue that white and black are not different. He admits, however, that there is a literal change in the bill; and that he made the change in deference to other Senators, who would not support the bill without. This proves that those other Senators thought the change a substantial one; and that the Judge thought their opinions worth deferring to. His own opinions, therefore, seem not to rest on a very firm basis even in his own mind - and I suppose the world believes, and will continue to believe, that precisely on the substance of that change this whole agitation has arisen.

I conclude then, that the public never demanded the repeal of the Missouri Compromise.

I now come to consider whether the repeal, with its avowed principle is intrinsically right. I insist that it is not. Take the particular case. A controversy had arisen between the advocates and opponents of slavery, in relation to its establishment and within the country we had purchased of France. The southern, and then best part of the purchase, was already in as a slave State. The controversy was settled by also letting Missouri in as a slave State; but with the agreement that within all the remaining part of the purchase, North of a certain line, there should never be slavery. As to what was to be done with the remaining part south of the line, nothing was said; but perhaps the fair implication was, that it should come in with slavery if it should so choose. The southern part, except a portion heretofore mentioned, afterwards did come in with slavery, as the State of Arkansas. All these many years since 1820, the Northern part had remained a wilderness. At length settlements began in it also. In due course, Iowa came in as a free State, and Minnesota was given a territorial government, without removing the slavery restriction. Finally the sole remaining part, North of the line, Kansas and Nebraska, was to be organized; and it is proposed, and carried, to blot out the old dividing line of thirtyfour years standing, and to open the whole of that country to the introduction of slavery. Now this, to my mind, is manifestly unjust. After an angry and dangerous controversy, the parties made friends by dividing the bone of contention. The one party first appropriates her own share, beyond all power to be disturbed in the possession of it; and then seizes the share of the other party. It is as if two starving men had divided their only loaf; the one had hastily swallowed his half, and then grabbed the other half just as he was putting it to his mouth!

Let me here drop the main argument, to notice what I consider rather an inferior matter. It is argued that slavery will not go to Kansas and Nebraska, in any event. This is a palliation - a lullaby. I have some hope that it will not; but let us not be too confident. As to climate, a glance at the map shows that there are five slave States-Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri-and also the District of Columbia, all north of the Missouri Compromise line. The census returns of 1850 show that, within these, there are 867,276 slaves - being more than one-fourth of all the slaves in the nation.

It is not climate, then, that will keep slavery out of these territories. Is there any thing in the peculiar nature of the country? Missouri adjoins these territories, by her entire western boundary, and slavery is already within every one of her western counties. I have even heard it said that there are more slaves, in proportion to whites, in the north western county of Missouri, than within any county of the State. Slavery pressed entirely up to the old western boundary of the State, and when, rather recently, a part of that boundary, at the north-west, was moved out a little farther west, slavery followed on quite up to the new line. Now, when the restriction is removed, what is to prevent it from going still further? Climate will not. No peculiarity of the country will - nothing in nature will. Will the disposition of the people prevent it? Those nearest the scene, are all in favor of the extension. The yankees, who are opposed to it, may be more numerous; but in military phrase, the battlefield is too far from their base of operations.

But it is said, there now is no law in Nebraska on the subject of slavery; and that, in such case, taking a slave there, operates his freedom. That is good book-law; but is not the rule of practice. Whatever slavery is, it has been first introduced without law. The oldest laws we find concerning it, are not laws introducing it; but regulating it, as an already existing thing. A white man takes his slave to Nebraska now; who will inform the negro that he is free? Who will take him before court to test the question of his freedom? In ignorance of his legal emancipation, he is kept chopping, splitting and plowing. Others are brought, and move on in the same track. At last, if ever the time for voting comes, on the question of slavery, the institution already in fact exists in the country, and cannot well be removed. The facts of its presence, and the difficulty of its removal will carry the vote in its favor. Keep it out until a vote is taken, and a vote in favor of it, can not be got in any population of forty thousand, on earth, who have been drawn together by the ordinary motives of emigration and settlement. To get slaves into the country simultaneously with the whites, in the incipient stages of settlement, is the precise stake played for, and won in this Nebraska measure.

The question is asked us, 'If slaves will go in, notwithstanding the general principle of law liberates them, why would they not equally go in against positive statute law? - go in, even if the Missouri restriction were maintained?' I answer, because it takes a much bolder man to venture in, with his property, in the latter case, than in the former - because the positive congressional enactment is known to, and respected by all, or nearly all; whereas the negative principle that no law is free law, is not much known except among lawyers. We have some experience of this practical difference. In spite of the Ordinance of '87, a few negroes were brought into Illinois, and held in a state of quasi slavery; not enough, however, to carry a vote of the people in favor of the institution when they came to form a constitution. But in the adjoining Missouri country, where there was no ordinance of '87 - was no restriction - they were carried ten times, nay a hundred times, as fast, and actually made a slave State. This is fact - naked fact.

Another LULLABY argument is, that taking slaves to new countries does not increase their number - does not make any one slave who otherwise would be free. There is some truth in this, and I am glad of it, but it is not WHOLLY true. The African slave trade is not yet effectually suppressed; and if we make a reasonable deduction for the white people amongst us, who are foreigners, and the descendants of foreigners, arriving here since 1808, we shall find the increase of the black population out-running that of the white, to an extent unaccountable, except by supposing that some of them too, have been coming from Africa. If this be so, the opening of new countries to the institution, increases the demand for, and augments the price of slaves, and so does, in fact, make slaves of freemen by causing them to be brought from Africa, and sold into bondage.

But, however this may be, we know the opening of new countries to slavery, tends to the perpetuation of the institution, and so does KEEP men in slavery who otherwise would be free. This result we do not FEEL like favoring, and we are under no legal obligation to suppress our feelings in this respect.

Equal justice to the south, it is said, requires us to consent to the extending of slavery into new countries. That is to say, inasmuch as you do not object to my taking my hog to Nebraska, therefore I must not object to you taking your slave. Now, I admit this is perfectly logical, if there is no difference between hogs and negroes. But while you thus require me to deny the humanity of the negro, I wish to ask whether you of the south yourselves, have ever been willing to do as much? It is kindly provided that of all those who come into the world, only a small percentage are natural tyrants. That percentage is no larger in the slave States than in the free. The great majority, south as well as north, have human sympathies, of which they can no more divest themselves than they can of their sensibility to physical pain. These sympathies in the bosoms of the southern people, manifest in many ways, their sense of the wrong of slavery, and their consciousness that, after all, there is humanity in the negro. If they deny this, let me address them a few plain questions. In 1820 you joined the north, almost unanimously, in declaring the African slave trade piracy, and in annexing to it the punishment of death. Why did you do this? If you did not feel that it was wrong, why did you join in providing that men should be hung for it? The practice was no more than bringing wild negroes from Africa, to sell to such as would buy them. But you never thought of hanging men for catching and selling wild horses, wild buffaloes or wild bears.

Again, you have amongst you, a sneaking individual, of the class of native tyrants, known as the 'SLAVE- DEALER.' He watches your necessities, and crawls up to buy your slave, at a speculating price. If you cannot help it, you sell to him; but if you can help it, you drive him from your door. You despise him utterly. You do not recognize him as a friend, or even as an honest man. Your children must not play with his; they may rollick freely with the little negroes, but not with the 'slavedealers' children. If you are obliged to deal with him, you try to get through the job without so much as touching him. It is common with you to join hands with the men you meet; but with the slave dealer you avoid the ceremony - instinctively shrinking from the snaky contact. If he grows rich and retires from business, you still remember him, and still keep up the ban of non-intercourse upon him and his family. Now why is this? You do not so treat the man who deals in corn, cattle or tobacco.

And yet again; there are in the United States and territories, including the District of Columbia, 433,643 free blacks. At $500 per head they are worth over two hundred million of dollars. How comes this vast amount of property to be running about without owners? We do not see free horses or free cattle running at large. How is this? All these free blacks are the descendants of slaves, or have been slaves themselves, and they would be slaves now, but for SOMETHING which has operated on their white owners, inducing them, at vast pecuniary sacrifices, to liberate them. What is that SOMETHING? Is there any mistaking it? In all these cases it is your sense of justice, and human sympathy, continually telling you, that the poor negro has some natural right to himself - that those who deny it, and make mere merchandise of him, deserve kickings, contempt and death.

And now, why will you ask us to deny the humanity of the slave? And estimate him only as the equal of the hog? Why ask us to do what you will not do yourselves? Why ask us to do for nothing, what two hundred million of dollars could not induce you to do?

But one great argument in the support of the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, is still to come. That argument is 'the sacred right of self government.' It seems our distinguished Senator has found great difficulty in getting his antagonists, even in the Senate, to meet him fairly on this argument - some poet has said.

'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.'

At the hazzard of being thought one of the fools of this quotation, I meet that argument - I rush in, I take that bull by the horns.

I trust I understand, and truly estimate the right of self-government. My faith in the proposition that each man should do precisely as he pleases with all which is exclusively his own, lies at the foundation of the sense of justice there is in me. I extend the principles to communities of men, as well as to individuals. I so extend it, because it is politically wise, as well as naturally just: politically wise, in saving us from broils about matters which do not concern us. Here, or at Washington, I would not trouble myself with the oyster laws of Virginia, or the cranberry laws of Indiana.

The doctrine of self government is right - absolutely and eternally right - but it has no just application, as here attempted. Or perhaps I should rather say that whether it has such just application depends upon whether a negro is not or is a man. If he is not a man, why in that case, he who is a man may, as a matter of self-government, do just as he pleases with him. But if the negro is a man, is it not to that extent, a total destruction of self-government, to say that he too shall not govern himself? When the white man governs himself that is self-government; but when he governs himself, and also governs another man, that is more than self-government - that is despotism. If the negro is a man, why then my ancient faith teaches me that 'all men are created equal;' and that there can be no moral right in connection with one man's making a slave of another.

Judge Douglas frequently, with bitter irony and sarcasm, paraphrases our argument by saying 'The white people of Nebraska are good enough to govern themselves, but they are not good enough to govern a few miserable negroes!!'

Well I doubt not that the people of Nebraska are, and will continue to be as good as the average of people elsewhere. I do not say the contrary. What I do say is, that no man is good enough to govern another man, without that other's consent. I say this is the leading principle - the sheet anchor of American republicanism. Our Declaration of Independence says:

'We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men,DERIVING THEIR JUST POWERS FROM THE CONSENT OF THE GOVERNED.'

I have quoted so much at this time merely to show that according to our ancient faith, the just powers of governments are derived from the consent of the governed. Now the relation of masters and slaves is PRO TANTO, a total violation of this principle. The master not only governs the slave without his consent, but he governs him by a set of rules altogether different from those which he prescribes for himself. Allow ALL the governed an equal voice in the government, and that, and that only is self government.

Let it not be said I am contending for the establishment of political and social equality between the whites and blacks. I have already said the contrary. I am not now combating the argument of NECESSITY, arising from the fact that the blacks are already amongst us; but I am combating what is set up as MORAL argument for allowing them to be taken where they have never yet been - arguing against the EXTENSION of a bad thing, which where it already exists, we must of necessity, manage as we best can.

The support of this application of the doctrine of self-government, Senator Douglas has sought to bring to his aid the opinion and examples of our revolutionary fathers. I am glad he has done this. I love the sentiments of those old-time men; and shall be most happy to abide by their opinions. He shows us that when it was in contemplation for the colonies to break off from Great Britain, and set up a new government for themselves, several of the states instructed their delegates to go for the measure PROVIDED EACH STATE SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO REGULATE ITS DOMESTIC CONCERNS IN ITS OWN WAY. I do not quote; but this in substance. This was right. I see nothing objectionable in it. I also think it probable that it had some reference to the existence of slavery amongst them. I will not deny that it had. But had it, in any reference to the carrying of slavery into NEW COUNTRIES? That is the question; and we will let the fathers themselves answer it.

This same generation of men, and mostly the same individuals of the generation, who declared this principle - who declared independence - who fought the war of the revolution through - who afterwards made the constitution under which we still live - these same men passed the ordinance of '87, declaring that slavery should never go to the north-west territory. I have no doubt Judge Douglas thinks they were very inconsistent in this. It is a question of discrimination between them and him. But there is not an inch of ground left for his claiming that their opinions - their example - their authority - are on his side in this controversy.

Again, is not Nebraska, while a territory, a part of us? Do we not own the country? And if we surrender the control of it, do we not surrender the right of self-government? It is part of ourselves. If you say we shall not control it because it is ONLY part, the same is true of every other part; and when all the parts are gone, what has become of the whole? What is then left of us? What use for the general government, when there is nothing left for it to govern?

But you say this question should be left to the people of Nebraska, because they are more particularly interested. If this be the rule, you must leave it to each individual to say for himself whether he will have slaves. What better moral right have thirty-one citizens of Nebraska to say, that the thirty-second shall not hold slaves, than the people of the thirty-one States have to say that slavery shall not go into the thirty-second State at all?

But if it is a sacred right for the people of Nebraska to take and hold slaves there, it is equally their sacred right to buy them where they can buy them cheapest; and that undoubtedly will be on the coast of Africa; provided you will consent to not hang them for going there to buy them. You must remove this restriction too, from the sacred right of self-government. I am aware you say that taking slaves from the States to Nebraska, does not make slaves of freemen; but the African slave-trader can say just as much. He does not catch free negroes and bring them here. He finds them already slaves in the hands of their black captors, and he honestly buys them at the rate of about a red cotton handkerchief a head. This is very cheap, and it is a great abridgement of the sacred right of self-government to hang men for engaging in this profitable trade!

Another important objection to this application of the right of self-government, is that it enables the first FEW, to deprive the succeeding MANY, of a free exercise of the right of self-government. The first few may get slavery IN, and the subsequent many cannot easily get it OUT. How common is the remark now in the slave States - 'If we were only clear of our slaves, how much better it would be for us.' They are actually deprived of the privilege of governing themselves as they would, by the action of a very few, in the beginning. The same thing was true of the whole nation at the time our constitution was formed.

Whether slavery shall go into Nebraska, or other new territories, is not a matter of exclusive concern to the people who may go there. The whole nation is interested that the best use shall be made of these territories. We want them for the homes of free white people. This they cannot be, to any considerable extent, if slavery shall be planted within them. Slave States are places for poor white people to remove FROM; not to remove to. New free States are the places for poor people to go to and better their condition. For this use, the nation needs these territories.

Still further; there are constitutional relations between the slave and free States, which are degrading to the latter. We are under legal obligations to catch and return their runaway slaves to them - a sort of dirty, disagreeable job, which I believe, as a general rule the slave-holders will not perform for one another. Then again, in the control of the government - the management of the partnership affairs - they have greatly the advantage of us. By the constitution, each State has two Senators - each has a number of Representatives; in proportion to the number of its people - and each has a number of presidential electors, equal to the whole number of its Senators and Representatives together. But in ascer-taining the number of the people, for this purpose, five slaves are counted as being equal to three whites. The slaves do not vote; they are only counted and so used, as to swell the influence of the white people's votes. The practical effect of this is more aptly shown by a comparison of the States of South Carolina and Maine, South Carolina has six representatives, and so has Maine; South Carolina has eight presidential electors, and so has Maine. This is precise equality so far; and, of course they are equal in Senators, each having two. Thus in the control of the government, the two States are equals precisely. But how are they in the number of their white people? Maine has 581,813 - while South Carolina has 274,567. Maine has twice as many as South Carolina, and 32,679 over. Thus each white man in South Carolina is more than the double of any man in Maine. This is all because South Carolina, besides her free people, has384,984 slaves. The South Carolinian has precisely the same advantage over the white man in every other free State, as well as in Maine. He is more than the double of any one of us in this crowd. The same advantage, but not to the same extent, is held by all the citizens of the slave States, over those of the free; and it is an absolute truth, without an exception, that there is no voter in any slave State, but who has more legal power in the government, than any voter in any free State. There is no instance of exact equality; and the disadvantage is against us the whole chapter through. This principle, in the aggregate, gives the slave States, in the present Congress, twenty additional representatives - being seven more than the whole majority by which they passed the Nebraska bill.

Now all this is manifestly unfair; yet I do not mention it to complain of it, in so far as it is already settled. It is in the constitution; and I do not, for that cause, or any other cause, propose to destroy, or alter, or disregard the constitution. I stand to it, fairly, fully, and firmly.

But when I am told I must leave it altogether to OTHER PEOPLE to say whether new partners are to be bred up and brought into the firm, on the same degrading terms against me, I respectfully demur. I insist, that whether I shall be a whole man, or only, the half of one, in comparison with others, is a question in which I am somewhat concerned; and one which no other man can have a sacred right of deciding for me. If I am wrong in this - if it really be a sacred right of self-government, in the man who shall go to Nebraska, to decide whether he will be the EQUAL of me or the DOUBLE of me, then after he shall have exercised that right, and thereby shall have reduced me to a still smaller fraction of a man than I already am, I should like for some gentleman deeply skilled in all the mysteries of sacred rights, to provide himself with a microscope, and peep about, and find out, if he can, what has become of my sacred rights! They will surely be too small for protection with the naked eye.

Finally, I insist, that if there is ANY THING which it is the duty of the WHOLE PEOPLE to never entrust to any hands but their own, that thing is the preservation and perpetuity, of their own liberties, and institutions. And if they shall think, as I do, that the extension of slavery endangers them, more than any, or all other causes, how recreant to themselves, if they submit the question, and with it, the fate of their country, to a mere handfull of men, bent only on temporary self-interest. If this question of slavery extension were an insignificant one - one having no power to do harm - it might be shuffled aside in this way. But being, as it is, the great Behemoth of danger, shall the strong gripe of the nation be loosened upon him, to entrust him to the hands of such feeble keepers?

I have done with this mighty argument, of self-government. Go, sacred thing! Go in peace.

But Nebraska is urged as a great Union-saving measure. Well I too, go for saving the Union. Much as I hate slavery, I would consent to the extension of it rather than see the Union dissolved, just as I would consent to any GREAT evil, to avoid a GREATER one. But when I go to Union saving, I must believe, at least, that the means I employ has some adaptation to the end. To my mind, Nebraska has no such adaptation.

'It hath no relish of salvation in it.'

It is an aggravation, rather, of the only one thing which ever endangers the Union. When it came upon us, all was peace and quiet. The nation was looking to the forming of new bonds of Union; and a long course of peace and prosperity seemed to lie before us. In the whole range of possibility, there scarcely appears to me to have been anything, out of which the slavery agitation could have been revived, except the very project of repealing the Missouri Compromise. Every inch of terri- tory we owned, already had a definite settlement of the slavery question, and by which, all parties were pledged to abide. Indeed, there was no uninhabited country on the continent, which we could acquire; if we except some extreme northern regions, which are wholly out of the question. In this state of case, the genius of Discord himself, could scarcely have invented a way of again getting us by the ears, but by turning back and destroying the peace measures of the past. The councils of that genius seem to have prevailed, the Missouri Compromise was repealed; and here we are, in the midst of a new slavery agitation, such, I think, as we have never seen before. Who is responsible for this? Is it those who resist the measure; or those who, causelessly, brought it forward, and pressed it through, having reason to know, and, in fact, knowing it must and would be so resisted? It could not but be expected by its author, that it would be looked upon as a measure for the extension of slavery, aggravated by a gross breach of faith. Argue as you will, and long as you will, this is the naked FRONT and ASPECT, of the measure. And in this aspect, it could not but produce agitation. Slavery is founded in the selfishness of man's nature - opposition to it, is his love of justice. These principles are in eternal antagonism; and when brought into collision so fiercely, as slavery extension brings them, shocks, and throes, and convulsions must ceaselessly follow. Repeal the Missouri Compromise - repeal all compromises repeal the Declaration of Inde- pendence - repeal all past history, you still can not repeal human nature. It still will be the abundance of man's heart, that slavery extension is wrong; and out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth will continue to speak.

The structure, too, of the Nebraska bill is very peculiar. The people are to decide the question of slavery for themselves; but WHEN they are to decide; or HOW they are to decide; or whether, when the question is once decided, it is to remain so, or is it to be subject to an indefinite succession of new trials, the law does not say. Is it to be decided by the first dozen settlers who arrive there? or is it to await the arrival of a hundred? Is it to be decided by a vote of the people? or a vote of the legislature? or, indeed by a vote of any sort? To these questions, the law gives no answer. There is a mystery about this; for when a member proposed to give the legislature express authority to exclude slavery, it was hooted down by the friends of the bill. This fact is worth remembering. Some yankees, in the east, are sending emigrants to Nebraska, to exclude slavery from it; and, so far as I can judge, they expect the question to be decided by voting, in some way or other. But the Missourians are awake too. They are within a stone's throw of the contested ground. They hold meetings, and pass resolutions, in which not the slightest allusion to voting is made. They resolve that slavery already exists in the territory; that more shall go there; that they, remaining in Missouri will protect it; and that abolitionists shall be hung, or driven away. Through all this, bowie-knives and six-shooters are seen plainly enough; but never a glimpse of the ballot-box. And, really, what is to be the result of this? Each party WITHIN, having numerous and determined backers WITHOUT, is it not probable that the contest will come to blows, and bloodshed? Could there be a more apt invention to bring about collision and violence, on the slavery question, than this Nebraska project is? I do not charge, or believe, that such was intended by Congress; but if they had literally formed a ring, and placed champions within it to fight out the controversy, the fight could be no more likely to come off, than it is. And if this fight should begin, is it likely to take a very peaceful, Unionsaving turn? Will not the first drop of blood so shed, be the real knell of the Union?

The Missouri Compromise ought to be restored. For the sake of the Union, it ought to be restored. We ought to elect a House of Representatives which will vote its restoration. If by any means, we omit to do this, what follows? Slavery may or may not be established in Nebraska. But whether it be or not, we shall have repudiated - discarded from the councils of the Nation - the SPIRIT OF COMPROMISE; for who after this will ever trust in a national compromise? The spirit of mutual concession - that spirit which first gave us the constitution, and which has thrice saved the Union - we shall have strangled and cast from us forever. And what shall we have in lieu of it? The South flushed with triumph and tempted to excesses; the North, betrayed, as they believe, brooding on wrong and burning for revenge. One side will provoke; the other resent. The one will taunt, the other defy; one aggresses, the other retaliates. Already a few in the North, defy all constitutional restraints, resist the execution of the fugitive slave law, and even menace the institution of slavery in the states where it exists.

Already a few in the South, claim the constitutional right to take to and hold slaves in the free states - demand the revival of the slave trade; and demand a treaty with Great Britain by which fugitive slaves may be reclaimed from Canada. As yet they are but few on either side. It is a grave question for the lovers of the Union, whether the final destruction of the Missouri Compromise, and with it the spirit of all compromise will or will not embolden and embitter each of these, and fatally increase the numbers of both.

But restore the compromise, and what then? We thereby restore the national faith, the national confidence, the national feeling of brotherhood. We thereby reinstate the spirit of concession and compromise - that spirit which has never failed us in past perils, and which may be safely trusted for all the future. The south ought to join in doing this. The peace of the nation is as dear to them as to us. In memories of the past and hopes of the future, they share as largely as we. It would be on their part, a great act - great in its spirit, and great in its effect. It would be worth to the nation a hundred years' purchase of peace and prosperity. And what of sacrifice would they make? They only surrender to us, what they gave us for a consideration long, long ago; what they have not now, asked for, struggled or cared for; what has been thrust upon them, not less to their own astonishment than to ours.

But it is said we cannot restore it; that though we elect every member of the lower house, the Senate is still against us. It is quite true, that of the Senators who passed the Nebraska bill, a majority of the whole Senate will retain their seats in spite of the elections of this and next year. But if at these elections, their several constituencies shall clearly express their will against Nebraska, will these senators disregard their will? Will they neither obey, nor make room for those who will?

But even if we fail to technically restore the compromise, it is still a great point to carry a popular vote in favor of the restoration. The moral weight of such a vote can not be estimated too highly. The authors of Nebraska are not at all satisfied with the destruction of the compromise - an endorsement of this PRINCIPLE, they proclaim to be the great object. With them, Nebraska alone is a small matter - to establish a principle, for FUTURE USE, is what they particularly desire.

That future use is to be the planting of slavery wherever in the wide world, local and unorganized opposition can not prevent it. Now if you wish to give them this endorsement - if you wish to establish this principle - do so. I shall regret it; but it is your right. On the contrary if you are opposed to the principle - intend to give it no such endorsement - let no wheedling, no sophistry, divert you from throwing a direct vote against it.

Some men, mostly whigs, who condemn the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, nevertheless hesitate to go for its restoration, lest they be thrown in company with the abolitionist. Will they allow me as an old whig to tell them good humouredly, that I think this is very silly? Stand with anybody that stands RIGHT. Stand with him while he is right and PART with him when he goes wrong. Stand WITH the abolitionist in restoring the Missouri Compromise; and stand AGAINST him when he attempts to repeal the fugitive slave law. In the latter case you stand with the southern disunionist. What of that? You are still right. In both cases you are right. In both cases you oppose the dangerous extremes. In both you stand on middle ground and hold the ship level and steady. In both you are national and nothing less than national. This is good old whig ground. To desert such ground, because of any company, is to be less than a whig - less than a man - less than an American.

I particularly object to the NEW position which the avowed principle of this Nebraska law gives to slavery in the body politic. I object to it because it assumes that there CAN be MORAL RIGHT in the enslaving of one man by another. I object to it as a dangerous dalliance for a free people - a sad evidence that, feeling prosperity we forget right - that liberty, as a principle, we have ceased to revere. I object to it because the fathers of the republic eschewed, and rejected it. The argument of 'Necessity' was the only argument they ever admitted in favor of slavery; and so far, and so far only as it carried them, did they ever go. They found the institution existing among us, which they could not help; and they cast blame upon the British King for having permitted its introduction. BEFORE the constitution, they prohibited its introduction into the north-western Territory - the only country we owned, then free from it. AT the framing and adoption of the constitution, they forbore to so much as mention the word 'slave' or 'slavery' in the whole instrument. In the provision for the recovery of fugitives, the slave is spoken of as a 'PERSON HELD TO SERVICE OR LABOR.' In that prohibiting the abolition of the African slave trade for twenty years, that trade is spoken of as 'The migration or importation of such persons as any of the States NOW EXISTING, shall think proper to admit,' &c. These are the only provisions alluding to slavery. Thus, the thing is hid away, in the constitution, just as an afflicted man hides away a wen or a cancer, which he dares not cut out at once, lest he bleed to death; with the promise, nevertheless, that the cutting may begin at the end of a given time. Less than this our fathers COULD not do; and MORE they WOULD not do. Necessity drove them so far, and farther, they would not go. But this is not all. The earliest Congress, under the constitution, took the same view of slavery. They hedged and hemmed it in to the narrowest limits of necessity.

In 1794, they prohibited an out-going slave-trade that is, the taking of slaves FROM the United States to sell.

In 1798, they prohibited the bringing of slaves from Africa, INTO the Mississippi Territory - this territory then comprising what are now the States of Mississippi and Alabama. This was TEN YEARS before they had the auth- ority to do the same thing as to the States existing at the adoption of the constitution.

In 1800 they prohibited AMERICAN CITIZENS from trading in slaves between foreign countries - as, for instance, from Africa to Brazil.

In 1803 they passed a law in aid of one or two State laws, in restraint of the internal slave trade.

In 1807, in apparent hot haste, they passed the law, nearly a year in advance, to take effect the first day of1808 - the very first day the constitution would permit - prohibiting the African slave trade by heavy pecuniary and corporal penalties.

In 1820, finding these provisions ineffectual, they declared the trade piracy, and annexed to it, the extreme penalty of death. While all this was passing in the general government, five or six of the original slave States had adopted systems of gradual emancipation; and by which the institution was rapidly becoming extinct within these limits.

Thus we see, the plain unmistakable spirit of that age, towards slavery, was hostility to the PRINCIPLE, and toleration, ONLY BY NECESSITY.

But NOW it is to be transformed into a 'sacred right.' Nebraska brings it forth, places it on the high road to extension and perpetuity; and, with a pat on its back, says to it, 'Go, and God speed you.' Henceforth it is to be the chief jewel of the nation - the very figure-head of the ship of State. Little by little, but steadily as man's march to the grave, we have been giving up the OLD for the NEW faith. Near eighty years ago we began by declaring that all men are created equal; but now from that beginning we have run down to the other declaration, that for SOME men to enslave OTHERS is a 'sacred right of self-government.' These principles can not stand together. They are as opposite as God and mammon; and whoever holds to the one, must despise the other. When Pettit, in connection with his support of the Nebraska bill, called the Declaration of Independence a 'self-evident lie' he only did what consistency and candor require all other Nebraska men to do. Of the forty odd Nebraska Senators who sat present and heard him, no one rebuked him. Nor am I apprized that any Nebraska newspaper, or any Nebraska orator, in the whole nation, has ever yet rebuked him. If this had been said among Marion's men, Southerners though they were, what would have become of the man who said it? If this had been said to the men who captured André, the man who said it, would probably have been hung sooner than André was. If it had been said in an old Independence Hall, seventy-eight years ago, the very door-keeper would have throttled the man, and thrust him into the street.

Let no one be deceived. The spirit of seventy-six and the spirit of Nebraska, are utter antagonisms; and the former is being rapidly displaced by the latter.

Fellow countrymen - Americans south, as well as north, shall we make no effort to arrest this? Already the liberal party throughout the world, express the apprehension 'that the one retrograde institution in America, is undermining the principles of progress, and fatally violating the noblest political system the world ever saw.' This is not the taunt of enemies, but the warning of friends. Is it quite safe to disregard it - to despise it? Is there no danger to liberty itself, in discarding the earliest practice, and first precept of our ancient faith? In our greedy chase to make profit of the negro, let us beware, lest we 'cancel and tear to pieces' even the white man's charter of freedom.

Our republican robe is soiled, and trailed in the dust. Let us re-purify it. Let us turn and wash it white, in the spirit, if not the blood, of the Revolution. Let us turn slavery from its claims of 'moral right,' back upon its existing legal rights, and its arguments of 'necessity.' Let us return it to the position our fathers gave it; and there let it rest in peace. Let us re-adopt the Declaration of Independence, and with it, the practices, and policy, which harmonize with it. Let north and south - let all Americans - let all lovers of liberty everywhere - join in the great and good work. If we do this, we shall not only have saved the Union; but we shall have so saved it, as to make, and to keep it, forever worthy of the saving. We shall have so saved it, that the succeeding millions of free happy people, the world over, shall rise up, and call us blessed, to the latest generations.

At Springfield, twelve days ago, where I had spoken substantially as I have here, Judge Douglas replied to me - and as he is to reply to me here, I shall attempt to anticipate him, by noticing some of the points he made there.

He commenced by stating that I had assumed all the way through, that the principle of the Nebraska bill, would have the effect of extending slavery. He denied that this was INTENDED, or that this EFFECT would follow.

I will not re-open the argument upon this point. That such was the intention, the world believed at the start, and will continue to believe. This was the COUNTENANCE of the thing; and, both friends and enemies, instantly recognized it as such. That countenance can not now be changed by argument. You can as easily argue the color out of the negroes' skin. Like the 'bloody hand' you may wash it, and wash it, the red witness of guilt still sticks, and stares horribly at you.

Next he says, congressional intervention never prevented slavery any where - that it did not prevent it in the north west territory, nor in Illinois - that in fact, Illinois came into the Union as a slave State - that the principle of the Nebraska bill expelled it from Illinois, from several old States, from every where.

Now this is mere quibbling all the way through. If the ordinance of '87 did not keep slavery out of the north west territory, how happens it that the north west shore of the Ohio river is entirely free from it; while the south east shore, less than a mile distant, along nearly the whole length of the river, is entirely covered with it?

If that ordinance did not keep it out of Illinois, what was it that made the difference between Illinois and Missouri? They lie side by side, the Mississippi river only dividing them; while their early settlements were within the same latitude. Between 1810 and 1820 the number of slaves in Missouri INCREASED 7,211; while in Illinois, in the same ten years, they DECREASED 51. This appears by the census returns. During nearly all of that ten years, both were territories - not States. During this time, the ordinance forbid slavery to go into Illinois; and NOTHING forbid it to go into Missouri. It DID go into Missouri, and did NOT go into Illinois. That is the fact. Can any one doubt as to the reason of it?

But, he says, Illinois came into the Union as a slave State. Silence, perhaps, would be the best answer to this flat contradiction of the known history of the country. What are the facts upon which this bold assertion is based? When we first acquired the country, as far back as 1787, there were some slaves within it, held by the French inhabitants at Kaskaskia. The territorial legislation, admitted a few negroes, from the slave States, as indentured servants. One year after the adoption of the first State constitution the whole number of them was - what do you think? just 117 - while the aggregate free population was 55,094 - about 470 to one. Upon this state of facts, the people framed their constitution prohibiting the further introduction of slavery, with a sort of guaranty to the owners of the few indentured servants, giving freedom to their children to be born thereafter, and making no mention whatever, of any supposed slave for life. Out of this small matter, the Judge manufactures his argument that Illinois came into the Union as a slave State. Let the facts be the answer to the argument.

The principles of the Nebraska bill, he says, expelled slavery from Illinois? The principle of that bill first planted it here - that is, it first came, because there was no law to prevent it - first came before we owned the country; and finding it here, and having the ordinance of '87 to prevent its increasing, our people struggled along, and finally got rid of it as best they could.

But the principle of the Nebraska bill abolished slavery in several of the old States. Well, it is true that several of the old States, in the last quarter of the last century, did adopt systems of gradual emancipation, by which the institution has finally become extinct within their limits; but it MAY or MAY NOT be true that the principle of the Nebraska bill was the cause that led to the adoption of these measures. It is now more than fifty years, since the last of these States adopted its system of emancipation. If Nebraska bill is the real author of these benevolent works, it is rather deplorable, that he has, for so long a time, ceased working all together. Is there not some reason to suspect that it was the principle of the REVOLUTION, and not the principle of Nebraska bill, that led to emancipation in these old States? Leave it to the people of those old emancipating States, and I am quite sure they will decide, that neither that, nor any other good thing, ever did, or ever will come of Nebraska bill.

In the course of my main argument, Judge Douglas interrupted me to say, that the principle of the Nebraska bill was very old; that it originated when God made man and placed good and evil before him, allowing him to choose for himself, being responsible for the choice he should make. At the time I thought this was merely playful; and I answered it accordingly. But in this reply to me he renewed it, as a serious argument. In seriousness then, the facts of this proposition are not true as stated. God did not place good and evil before man, telling him to make his choice. On the contrary, he did tell him there was one tree, of the fruit of which, he should not eat, upon pain of certain death. I should scarcely wish so strong a prohibition against slavery in Nebraska.

But this argument strikes me as not a little remarkable in another particular - in its strong resemblance to the old argument for the 'Divine right of Kings.' By the latter, the King is to do just as he pleases with his white subjects, being responsible to God alone. By the former the white man is to do just as he pleases with his black slaves, being responsible to God alone. The two things are precisely alike; and it is but natural that they should find similar arguments to sustain them.

I had argued, that the application of the principle of self-government, as contended for, would require the revival of the African slave trade - that no argument could be made in favor of a man's right to take slaves to Nebraska, which could not be equally well made in favor of his right to bring them from the coast of Africa. The Judge replied, that the constitution requires the suppression of the foreign slave trade; but does not require the prohibition of slavery in the territories. That is a mistake, in point of fact. The constitution does NOT require the action of Congress in either case; and it does AUTHORIZE it in both. And so, there is still no difference between the cases.

In regard to what I had said, the advantage the slave States have over the free, in the matter of representation, the Judge replied that we, in the free States, count five free negroes as five white people, while in the slave States, they count five slaves as three whites only; and that the advantage, at last, was on the side of the free States.

Now, in the slave States, they count free negroes just as we do; and it so happens that besides their slaves, they have as many free negroes as we have, and thirty-three thousand over. Thus their free negroes more than balance ours; and their advantage over us, in consequence of their slaves, still remains as I stated it.

In reply to my argument, that the compromise measures of 1850, were a system of equivalents; and that the provisions of no one of them could fairly be carried to other subjects, without its corresponding equivalent being carried with it, the Judge denied outright, that these measures had any connection with, or dependence upon, each other. This is mere desperation. If they have no connection, why are they always spoken of in connection? Why has he so spoken of them, a thousand times? Why has he constantly called them a SERIES of measures? Why does everybody call them a compromise? Why was California kept out of the Union, six or seven months, if it was not because of its connection with the other measures? Webster's leading definition of the verb 'to compromise' is 'to adjust and settle a difference, by mutual agreement with concessions of claims by the parties.' This conveys precisely the popular understanding of the word compromise. We knew, before the Judge told us, that these measures passed separately, and in distinct bills; and that no two of them were passed by the votes of precisely the same members. But we also know, and so does he know, that no one of them could have passed both branches of Congress but for the understanding that the others were to pass also. Upon this understanding each got votes, which it could have got in no other way. It is this fact, that gives to the measures their true character; and it is the universal knowledge of this fact, that has given them the name of compromise so expressive of that true character.

I had asked 'If in carrying the provisions of the Utah and New Mexico laws to Nebraska, you could clear away other objection, how can you leave Nebraska "per- fectly free" to introduce slavery BEFORE she forms a constitution - during her territorial government? - while the Utah and New Mexico laws only authorize it WHEN they form constitutions, and are admitted into the Union?' To this Judge Douglas answered that the Utah and New Mexico laws, also authorized it BEFORE; and to prove this, he read from one of their laws, as follows: 'That the legislative power of said territory shall extend to all rightful subjects of legislation consistent with the constitution of the United States and the provisions of this act.'

Now it is perceived from the reading of this, that there is nothing express upon the subject; but that the authority is sought to be implied merely, for the general provision of 'all delightful subjects of legislation.' In reply to this, I insist, as a legal rule of construction, as well as the plain popular view of the matter, that the EXPRESS provision for Utah and New Mexico coming in with slavery if they choose, when they shall form constitutions, is an EXCLUSION of all implied authority on the same subject - that Congress, having the subject distinctly in their minds, when they made the express provision, they therein expressed their WHOLE meaning on that subject.

The Judge rather insinuated that I had found it convenient to forget the Washington territorial law passed in 1853. This was a division of Oregon, organizing the northern part, as the territory of Washington. He asserted that, by this act, the ordinance of '87 theretofore existing in Oregon, was repealed; that nearly all the members of Congress voted for it, beginning in the H.R., with Charles Allen of Massachusetts, and ending with Richard Yates, of Illinois; and that he could not understand how those who now oppose the Nebraska bill, so voted then, unless it was because it was then too soon after both the great political parties had ratified the compromises of 1850, and the ratification therefore too fresh, to be then repudiated.

Now I had seen the Washington act before; and I have carefully examined it since; and I aver that there is no appeal of the ordinance of '87, or of any prohibition of slavery, in it.

In express terms, there is absolutely nothing in the whole law upon the subject - in fact, nothing to lead a reader to THINK of the subject. To my judgment, it is equally free from every thing from which such repeal can be legally implied; but however this may be, are men now to be entrapped by a legal implication, extracted from covert language, introduced perhaps, for the very purpose of entrapping them? I sincerely wish every man could read this law quite through, carefully watching every sentence, and every line, for a repeal of the ordinance of '87 or any thing equivalent to it.

Another point on the Washington act. If it was intended to be modelled after the Utah and New Mexico acts, as Judge Douglas, insists, why was it not inserted in it, as in them, that Washington was to come in with or without slavery as she may choose at the adoption of her constitution? It has no such provision in it; and I defy the ingenuity of man to give a reason for the omission, other than that it was not intended to follow the Utah and New Mexico laws in regard to the question of slavery.

The Washington act not only differs vitally from the Utah and New Mexico acts; but the Nebraska act differs vitally from both. By the latter act the people are left 'perfectly free' to regulate their own domestic concerns, &c.; but in all the former, all their laws are to be submitted to Congress, and if disapproved are to be null. The Washington act goes even further; it absolutely prohibits the territorial legislation, by very strong and guarded language, from establishing banks, or borrowing money on the faith of the territory. Is this the sacred right of self-government we hear vaunted so much? No sir, the Nebraska bill finds no model in the acts of '50 or the Washington act. It finds no model in any law from Adam till today. As Phillips says of Napoleon, the Nebraska act is grand, gloomy, and peculiar; wrapped in the solitude of its own originality; without a model, and without a shadow upon the earth.

In the course of his reply, Senator Douglas remarked, in substance, that he had always considered this government was made for the white people and not for the negroes. Why, in point of mere fact, I think so too. But in this remark of the Judge, there is a significance, which I think is the key to the great mistake (if there is any such mistake) which he has made in this Nebraska measure. It shows that the Judge has no very vivid impression that the negro is a human; and consequently has no idea that there can be any moral question in legislating about him. In this view, the question of whether a new country shall be slave or free, is a matter of as utter indifference, as it is whether his neighbor shall plant his farm with tobacco, or stock it with horned cattle. Now, whether this view is right or wrong, it is very certain that the great mass of mankind take a totally different view. They consider slavery a great moral wrong; and their feelings against it, is not evanescent, but eternal. It lies at the very foundation of their sense of justice; and it cannot be trifled with. It is a great and durable element of popular action, and, I think, no statesman can safely disregard it.

Our Senator also objects that those who oppose him in this measure do not entirely agree with one another. He reminds me that in my firm adherence to the constitutional rights of the slave States, I differ widely from others who are cooperating with me in opposing the Nebraska bill; and he says it is not quite fair to oppose him in this variety of ways. He should remember that he took us by surprise - astounded us - by this measure. We were thunderstruck and stunned; and we reeled and fell in utter confusion. But we rose each fighting, grasping whatever he could first reach - a scythe - a pitchfork - a chopping axe, or a butcher's cleaver. We struck in the direction of the sound; and we are rapidly closing in upon him. He must not think to divert us from our purpose, by showing us that our drill, our dress, and our weapons, are not entirely perfect and uniform. When the storm shall be past, he shall find us still Americans; no less devoted to the continued Union and prosperity of the country than heretofore.

Finally, the Judge invokes against me, the memory of Clay and of Webster. They were great men; and men of great deeds. But where have I assailed them? For what is it, that their life-long enemy, shall now make profit, by assuming to defend them against me, their life-long friend? I go against the repeal of the Missouri Compromise; did they ever go for it? They went for the compromise of 1850; did I ever go against them? They were greatly devoted to the Union; to the small measure of my ability, was I ever less so? Clay and Webster were dead before this question arose; by what authority shall our Senator say they would espouse his side of it, if alive? Mr Clay was the leading spirit in making the Missouri Compromise; is it very credible that if now alive, he would take the lead in the breaking of it? The truth is that some support from whigs is now a necessity with the Judge, and for thus it is, that the names of Clay and Webster are now invoked. His old friends have deserted him in such numbers as to leave too few to live by. He came to his own, and his own received him not, and Lo! He turns into the Gentiles.

A word now as to the Judge's desperate assumption that the compromises of '50 had no connection with one another; that Illinois came into the Union as a slave state, and some other similar ones. This is no other than a bold denial of the history of the country. If we do not know that the Compromises of '50 were dependent on each other; if we do not know that Illinois came into the Union as a free state - we do not know any thing. If we do not know these things, we do not know that we ever had a revolutionary war, or such a chief as Washington. To deny these things is to deny our national axioms, or dogmas, at least; and it puts an end to all argument. If a man will stand up and assert, and repeat, and reassert, that two and two do not make four, I know nothing in the power of argument that can stop him. I think I can answer the Judge so long as he sticks to the premises; but when he flies from them, I can not work an argument into the consistency of a maternal gag, and actually close his mouth with it. In such a case I can only commend him to the seventy thousand answers just in from Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana.

'House Divided' Speech at Springfield, Illinois

16 June, 1858

The speech, immediately succeeding, was delivered, June 16, 1858 at Springfield, Illinois, at the close of the Republican State convention held at that time and place; and by which convention Mr Lincoln had been named as their candidate for U.S. Senator.

Senator Douglas was not present.

Mr PRESIDENT and Gentlemen of the Convention.

If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, andhow to do it.

We are now far into the fifth year, since a policy was initiated, with the avowed object, and confident promise, of putting an end to slavery agitation.

Under the operation of that policy, that agitation has not only, not ceased, but has constantly augmented.

In my opinion, it will not cease, until a crisis shall have been reached, and passed.

'A house divided against itself cannot stand.'

I believe this government cannot endure, permanently half slave and half free.

I do not expect the Union to be dissolved - I do not expect the house to fall - but I do expect it will cease to be divided.

It will become all one thing, or all the other.

Either the opponents of slavery, will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in course of ultimate extinction; or its advocates will push it forward, till it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new - North as well as South.

Have we no tendency to the latter condition?

Let any one who doubts, carefully contemplate that now almost complete legal combination - piece of machinery so to speak - compounded of the Nebraska doctrine, and the Dred Scott decision. Let him consider not only what work the machinery is adapted to do, and how well adapted; but also, let him study the history of its construction, and trace, if he can, or rather fail, if he can, to trace the evidences of design, and concert of action, among its chief bosses, from the beginning.

The new year of 1854 found slavery excluded from more than half the States by State Constitutions, and from most of the national territory by Congressional prohibition.

Four days later, commenced the struggle, which ended in repealing that Congressional prohibition.

This opened all the national territory to slavery; and was the first point gained.

But, so far, Congress only, had acted; and an indorsement by the people real or apparent, was indispensable, to save the point already gained, and give chance for more.

This necessity had not been overlooked; but had been provided for, as well as might be, in the notable argument of 'squatter sovereignty,' otherwise called 'sacred right of self government,' which latter phrase, though expressive of the only rightful basis of any government, was so perverted in this attempted use of it as to amount to just this: That if any one man, choose to enslave another, no third man shall be allowed to object.

That argument was incorporated into the Nebraska bill itself, in the language which follows: 'It being the true intent and meaning of this act not to legislate slavery into any Territory or state, nor to exclude it therefrom; but to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic institutions in their own way, subject only to the Constitution of the United States.'

Then opened the roar of loose declamation in favor of 'Squatter Sovereignty,' and 'Sacred right of self government.'

'But,' said opposition members, 'let us be more specific - let us amend the bill so as to expressly declare that the people of the territory may exclude slavery.' 'Not we,' said the friends of the measure; and down they voted the amendment.

While the Nebraska bill was passing through congress, a law case, involving the question of a negroe's freedom, by reason of his owner having voluntarily taken him first into a free state and then a territory covered by the congressional prohibition, and held him as a slave, for a long time in each, was passing through the U.S. Circuit Court for the District of Missouri; and both Nebraska bill and law suit were brought to a decision in the same month of May, 1854. The negroe's name was 'Dred Scott,' which name now designates the decision finally made in the case.

Before the then next Presidential election, the law case came to, and was argued in the Supreme Court of the United States; but the decision of it was deferred until after the election. Still, before the election, Senator Trumbull, on the floor of the Senate, requests the leading advocate of the Nebraska bill to state his opinion whether the people of a territory can constitutionally exclude slavery from their limits; and the latter answers, 'That is a question for the Supreme Court.'

The election came. Mr Buchanan was elected, and the indorsement, such as it was, secured. That was the second point gained. The indorsement, however, fell short of a clear popular majority by nearly four hundred thousand votes, and so, perhaps, was not overwhelmingly reliable and satisfactory.

The outgoing President, in his last annual message, as impressively as possible, echoed back upon the people the weight and authority of the indorsement.

The Supreme Court met again; did not announce their decision, but ordered a re-argument.

The Presidential inauguration came, and still no decision of the court; but the incoming President, in his inaugural address, fervently exhorted the people to abide by the forthcoming decision, whatever it might be.

Then, in a few days, came the decision.

The reputed author of the Nebraska bill finds an early occasion to make a speech at this capitol indorsing the Dred Scott Decision, and vehemently denouncing all opposition to it.

The new President, too, seizes the early occasion of the Silliman letter to indorse and strongly construethat decision, and to express his astonishment that any different view had ever been entertained.

At length a squabble springs up between the President and the author of the Nebraska bill, on the merequestion of fact, whether the Lecompton constitution was or was not, in any just sense, made by the people of Kansas; and in that squabble the latter declares that all he wants is a fair vote for the people, and that he caresnot whether slavery be voted down or voted up. I do not understand his declaration that he cares not whether slavery be voted down or voted up, to be intended by him other than as an apt definition of the policy he would impress on the public mind - the principle for which he declares he has suffered much, and is ready to suffer to the end.

And well may he cling to that principle. If he has any parental feeling, well may he cling to it. That principle, is the only shred left of his original Nebraska doctrine. Under the Dred Scott decision, 'squatter sovereignty' squatted out of existence, tumbled down like temporary scaffolding - like the mould at the foundry served through one blast and fell back into loose sand - helped to carry an election, and then was kicked to the winds. His late joint struggle with the Republicans, against the Lecompton Constitution, involves nothing of the original Nebraska doctrine. That struggle was made on a point, the right of a people to make their own constitution, upon which he and the Republicans have never differed.

The several points of the Dred Scott decision, in connection with Senator Douglas' 'care not' policy, constitute the piece of machinery, in its present state of advancement. This was the third point gained.

The working points of that machinery are:

First, that no negro slave, imported as such from Africa, and no descendant of such slave can ever be a citizen of any State, in the sense that term was used in the Constitution of the United States.

This point is made in order to deprive the negro, in every possible event, of the benefit of this provision of the United States Constitution, which declares that -

'The citizens of each State shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several States.'

Secondly, that 'subject to the Constitution of the United States,' neither Congress nor a Territorial Legislature can exclude slavery from any United States territory.

This point is made in order that individual men then may fill up the territories with slaves, without danger of losing them as property, and thus to enhance the chances of permanency to the institution through all the future.

Thirdly, that whether the holding a negro in actual slavery in a free State, makes him free, as against the holder, the United States courts will not decide, but will leave to be decided by the courts of any slave State the negro may be forced into by the master.

This point is made, not to be pressed immediately; but, if acquiesced in for a while, and apparently indorsedby the people at an election, then to sustain the logical conclusion that what Dred Scott's master might lawfully do with Dred Scott, in the free State of Illinois, every other master may lawfully do with any other one, or one thousand slaves, in Illinois, or in any other free State.

Auxiliary to all this, and working hand in hand with it, the Nebraska doctrine, or what is left of it, is to educate and mould public opinion, at least Northernpublic opinion, to not care whether slavery is voted down or voted up.

This shows exactly where we now are; and partiallyalso, whither we are tending.

It will throw additional light in the latter, to go back, and run the mind over the string of historical facts already stated. Several things will now appear less dark and mysterious than they did when they were transpiring. The people were to be left 'perfectly free' 'subject only to the Constitution.' What the Constitutionhad to do with it, outsiders could not then see. Plainly enough now, it was an exactly fitted niche, for the Dred Scott decision to afterwards come in, and declare the perfect freedom of the people, to be just no freedom at all.

Why was the amendment, expressly declaring the right of the people to exclude slavery, voted down? Plainly enough now, the adoption of it, would have spoiled the niche for the Dred Scott decision.

Why was the court decision held up? Why, even a Senator's individual opinion withheld, till after the Presidential election? Plainly enough now, the speaking out then would have damaged the 'perfectly free' argument upon which the election was to be carried.

Why the outgoing President's felicitation on the indorsement? Why the delay of a reargument? Why the incoming President's advance exhortation in favor of the decision?

These things look like the cautious patting and pettinga spirited horse, preparatory to mounting him, when it is dreaded that he may give the rider a fall.

And why the hasty after indorsements of the decision by the President and others?

We can not absolutely know that all these exact adaptations are the result of preconcert. But when we see a lot of framed timbers, different portions of which we know have been gotten out at different times and places and by different workmen - Stephen, Franklin, Roger and James, for instance - and when we see these timbers joined together, and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the tenons and mortices exactly fitting, and all the lengths and proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective places, and not a piece too many or too few - not omitting even scaffolding - or, if a single piece be lacking, we can see the place in the frame exactly fitted and prepared to yet bring such piece in - in such a case, we find it impossible to not believe that Stephen and Franklin and Roger and James all understood one another from the beginning, and all worked upon a common plan or draft drawn up before the first lick was struck.

It should not be overlooked that, by the Nebraska bill, the people of a State as well as Territory, were to be left 'perfectly free' 'subject only to the Constitution.'

Why mention a State? They were legislating for territories, and not for or about States. Certainly the people of a State are and ought to be subject to the Constitution of the United States; but why is mention of this luggedinto his merely territorial law? Why are the people of a territory and the people of a state therein lumpedtogether, and their relation to the Constitution therein treated as being precisely the same?

While the opinion of the Court, by Chief Justice Taney, in the Dred Scott case, and the separate opinions of all the concurring Judges, expressly declare that the Constitution of the United States neither permits Congress nor a Territorial legislature to exclude slavery from any United States territory, they all omit to declare whether or not the same Constitution permits a state, or the people of a State, to exclude it.

Possibly, this was a mere omission; but who can be quite sure, if McLean or Curtis had sought it to get into the opinion a declaration of unlimited power in the people of a state to exclude slavery from their limits, just as Chase and Macy sought to get such declaration, in behalf of the people of a territory, into the Nebraska bill - I ask, who can be quite sure that it would not have been voted down, in the one case, as it had been in the other.

The nearest approach to the point of declaring the power of a State over slavery, is made by Judge Nelson. He approaches it more than once, using the precise idea, and almost the language too, of the Nebraska act. On one occasion his exact language is, 'except in cases where the power is restrained by the Constitution of the United States, the law of the State is supreme over the subject of slavery within its jurisdiction.'

In what cases the power of the states is so restrained by the U.S. Constitution, is left an open question, precisely as the same question, as to the restraint on the power of the territories was left open in the Nebraska act. Put that and that together, and we have another nice little niche, which we may, ere long, see filled with another Supreme Court decision, declaring that the Constitution of the United States does not permit a stateto exclude slavery from its limits.

And this may especially be expected if the doctrine of 'care not whether slavery be voted down or voted up,' shall gain upon the public mind sufficiently to give promise that such a decision can be maintained when made.

Such a decision is all that slavery now lacks of being alike lawful in all the States.

Welcome or unwelcome, such decision is probably coming, and will soon be upon us, unless the power of the present political dynasty shall be met and overthrown.

We shall lie down pleasantly dreaming that the people of Missouri are on the verge of making their State free; and we shall awake to the reality, instead, that the Supreme Court has made Illinois a slave State.

To meet and overthrow the power of that dynasty, is the work now before all those who would prevent that consummation.

That is what we have to do.

But how can we best do it?

There are those who denounce us openly to their ownfriends, and yet whisper us softly, that Senator Douglasis the aptest instrument there is, with which to effect that object. They do not tell us, nor has he told us, that he wishes any such object to be effected. They wish us to infer all, from the facts, that he now has a little quarrel with the present head of the dynasty; and that he has regularly voted with us, on a single point, upon which, he and we, have never differed.

They remind us that he is a very great man, and that the largest of us are very small ones. Let this be granted. But 'a living dog is better than a dead lion.' Judge Douglas, if not a dead lion for his work, is at least a cagedand toothless one. How can he oppose the advances of slavery? He don't care anything about it. His avowed mission is impressing the 'public heart' to care nothing about it.

A leading Douglas Democratic newspaper thinks Douglas' superior talent will be needed to resist the revival of the African slave trade.

Does Douglas believe an effort to revive that trade is approaching? He has not said so. Does he really think so? But if it is, how can he resist it? For years he has labored to prove it a sacred right of white men to take negro slaves into the new territories. Can he possibly show that it is less a sacred right to buy them where they can be bought cheapest? And, unquestionably they can be bought cheaper in Africa than in Virginia.

He has done all in his power to reduce the whole question of slavery to one of a mere right of property; and as such, how can he oppose the foreign slave trade - how can he refuse that trade in that 'property' shall be 'perfectly free' - unless he does it as a protection to the home production? And as the home producers will probably not ask the protection, he will be wholly without a ground of opposition.

Senator Douglas holds, we know, that a man may rightfully be wiser today than he was yesterday - that he may rightfully change when he finds himself wrong.

But, can we for that reason, run ahead, and inferthat he will make any particular change, of which he, himself, has given no intimation? Can we safely base our action upon any such vague inference?

Now, as ever, I wish to not misrepresent Judge Douglas' position, question his motives, or do ought that can be personally offensive to him.

Whenever, if ever, he and we can come together on principle so that our great cause may have assistance from his great ability, I hope to have interposed no adventitious obstacle.

But clearly, he is not now with us - he does not pretend to be - he does not promise to ever be.

Our cause, then, must be intrusted to, and conducted by its own undoubted friends - those whose hands are free, whose hearts are in the work - who do care for the result.

Two years ago the Republicans of the nation mustered over thirteen hundred thousand strong.

We did this under the single impulse of a resistance to a common danger, with every external circumstance against us.

Of strange, discordant, and even, hostile elements, we gathered from the four winds, and formed and fought the battle through, under the constant hot ire of a disciplined, proud, and pampered enemy.

Did we brave all then, to falter now? - now - when that same enemy is wavering, dissevered and belligerent?

The result is not doubtful. We shall not fail - if we stand firm, we shall not fail.

Wise councils may accelerate or mistakes delay it, but, sooner or later the victory is sure to come.

Address at Cooper Institute, New York City

27 February, 1860

MR PRESIDENT AND FELLOW-CITIZENS OF NEW YORK: - The facts with which I shall deal this evening are mainly old and familiar; nor is there anything new in the general use I shall make of them. If there shall be any novelty, it will be in the mode of presenting the facts, and the inferences and observations following that presentation.

In his speech last autumn, at Columbus, Ohio, as reported in 'The New-York Times,' Senator Douglas said:

'Our fathers, when they framed the Government under which we live, understood this question just as well, and even better, than we do now.'

I fully indorse this, and I adopt it as a text for this discourse. I so adopt it because it furnishes a precise and an agreed starting point for a discussion between Republicans and that wing of the Democracy headed by Senator Douglas. It simply leaves the inquiry: 'What was the understanding those fathers had of the question mentioned?'

What is the frame of Government under which we live?

The answer must be: 'The Constitution of the United States.' That Constitution consists of the original, framed in 1787, (and under which the present government first went into operation,) and twelve subsequently framed amendments, the first ten of which were framed in 1789.

Who were our fathers that framed the Constitution? I suppose the 'thirty-nine' who signed the original instrument may be fairly called our fathers who framed that part of the present Government. It is almost exactly true to say they framed it, and it is altogether true to say they fairly represented the opinion and sentiment of the whole nation at that time. Their names, being familiar to nearly all, and accessible to quite all, need not now be repeated.

I take these 'thirty-nine' for the present, as being 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live.'

What is the question which, according to the text, those fathers understood 'just as well, and even better than we do now?'

It is this: Does the proper division of local from federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, forbid our Federal Government to control as to slavery in our Federal Territories?

Upon this, Senator Douglas holds the affirmative, and Republicans the negative. This affirmation and denial form an issue; and this issue - this question - is precisely what the text declares our fathers understood 'better than we.'

Let us now inquire whether the 'thirty-nine,' or any of them, ever acted upon this question; and if they did, how they acted upon it - how they expressed that better understanding?

In 1784, three years before the Constitution - the United States then owning the Northwestern Territory, and no other, the Congress of the Confederation had before them the question of prohibiting slavery in that Territory; and four of the 'thirty-nine,' who afterward framed the Constitution, were in that Congress, and voted on that question. Of these, Roger Sherman, Thomas Mifflin, and Hugh Williamson voted for the prohibition, thus showing that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything else, properly forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory. The other of the four - James M'Henry - voted against the prohibition, showing that, for some cause, he thought it improper to vote for it.

In 1787, still before the Constitution, but while the Convention was in session framing it, and while the Northwestern Territory still was the only territory owned by the United States, the same question of prohibiting slavery in the territory again came before the Congress of the Confederation; and two more of the 'thirty-nine' who afterward signed the Constitution, were in that Congress, and voted on the question. They were William Blount and William Few; and they both voted for the prohibition - thus showing that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal auth ority, nor anything else, properly forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory. This time the prohibition became a law, being part of what is now well known as the Ordinance of '87.

The question of federal control of slavery in the territories, seems not to have been directly before the Convention which framed the original Constitution; and hence it is not recorded that the 'thirty-nine,' or any of them, while engaged on that instrument, expressed any opinion of that precise question.

In 1789, by the first Congress which sat under the Constitution, an act was passed to enforce the Ordinance of '87, including the prohibition of slavery in the North- western Territory. The bill for this act was reported by one of the 'thirty-nine,' Thomas Fitzsimmons, then a member of the House of Representatives from Pennsyl- vania. It went through all its stages without a word of opposition, and finally passed both branches without yeas and nays, which is equivalent to an unanimous passage. In this Congress there were sixteen of the thirty- nine fathers who framed the original Constitution. They were John Langdon, Nicholas Gilman, Wm. S. Johnson, Roger Sherman, Robert Morris, Thos. Fitzsimmons, William Few, Abraham Baldwin, Rufus King, William Paterson, George Clymer, Richard Bassett, George Read, Pierce Butler, Daniel Carroll, James Madison.

This shows that, in their understanding, no line divid- ing local from federal authority, nor anything in the Constitution, properly forbade Congress to prohibit slavery in the federal territory; else both their fidelity to correct principle, and their oath to support the Constitution, would have constrained them to oppose the prohibition.

Again, George Washington, another of the 'thirty-nine,' was then President of the United States, and, as such, approved and signed the bill; thus completing its validity as a law, and thus showing that, in his understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government, to control as to slavery in federal territory.

No great while after the adoption of the original Constitution, North Carolina ceded to the Federal Government the country now constituting the State of Tennessee; and a few years later Georgia ceded that which now constitutes the States of Mississippi and Alabama. In both deeds of cession it was made a condition by the ceding States that the Federal Government should not prohibit slavery in the ceded country. Besides this, slavery was then actually in the ceded country. Under these circumstances, Congress, on taking charge of these countries, did not absolutely prohibit slavery within them. But they did interfere with it - take control of it - even there, to a certain extent. In1798, Congress organized the Territory of Mississippi. In the act of organization, they prohibited the bringing of slaves into the Territory, from any place without the United States, by fine, and giving freedom to slaves so brought. This act passed both branches of Congress without yeas and nays. In that Congress were three of the 'thirty-nine' who framed the original Constitution. They were John Langdon, George Read and Abraham Baldwin. They all, probably, voted for it. Certainly they would have placed their opposition to it upon record, if, in their understanding, any line dividing local from federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, properly forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory.

In 1803, the Federal Government purchased the Louisiana country. Our former territorial acquisitions came from certain of our own States; but this Louisiana country was acquired from a foreign nation. In 1804, Congress gave a territorial organization to that part of it which now constitutes the State of Louisiana. New Orleans, lying within that part, was an old and comparatively large city. There were other considerable towns and settlements, and slavery was extensively and thoroughly intermingled with the people. Congress did not, in the Territorial Act, prohibit slavery; but they did interfere with it - take control of it - in a more marked and extensive way than they did in the case of Mississippi. The substance of the provision therein made, in relation to slaves, was:

First. That no slave should be imported into the territory from foreign parts.

Second. That no slave should be carried into it who had been imported into the United States since the first day of May, 1798.

Third. That no slave should be carried into it, except by the owner, and for his own use as a settler; the penalty in all the cases being a fine upon the violator of the law, and freedom to the slave.

This act also was passed without yeas and nays. In the Congress which passed it, there were two of the 'thirty-nine.' They were Abraham Baldwin and Jonathan Dayton. As stated in the case of Mississippi, it is probable they both voted for it. They would not have allowed it to pass without recording their opposition to it, if, in their understanding, it violated either the line properly dividing local from federal authority, or any provision of the Constitution.

In 1819-20, came and passed the Missouri question. Many votes were taken, by yeas and nays, in both branches of Congress, upon the various phases of the general question. Two of the 'thirty-nine' - Rufus King and Charles Pinckney - were members of that Congress. Mr King steadily voted for slavery prohibition and against all compromises, while Mr Pinckney as steadily voted against slavery prohibition and against all compromises. By this, Mr King showed that, in his understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the Constitution, was violated by Congress prohibiting slavery in federal territory; while Mr Pinckney, by his votes, showed that, in his understanding, there was some sufficient reason for opposing such prohibition in that case.

The cases I have mentioned are the only acts of the 'thirty-nine,' or any of them, upon the direct issue, which I have been able to discover.

To enumerate the persons who thus acted, as being four in 1784, two in 1787, seventeen in 1789, three in1798, two in 1804, and two in 1819-20 - there would be thirty of them. But this would be counting John Langdon, Roger Sherman, William Few, Rufus King, and George Read, each twice, and Abraham Baldwin, three times. The true number of those of the 'thirty-nine' whom I have shown to have acted upon the question, which, by the text, they understood better than we, is twenty- three, leaving sixteen not shown to have acted upon it in any way.

Here, then, we have twenty-three out of our thirtynine fathers 'who framed the Government under which we live,' who have, upon their official responsibility and their corporal oaths, acted upon the very question which the text affirms they 'understood just as well, and even better than we do now;' and twenty-one of them - a clear majority of the whole 'thirty-nine'- so acting upon it as to make them guilty of gross political impropriety and wilful perjury, if, in their understanding, any proper division between local and federal authority, or anything in the Constitution they had made themselves, and sworn to support, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. Thus the twenty-one acted; and, as actions speak louder than words, so actions, under such responsibility, speak still louder.

Two of the twenty-three voted against Congressional prohibition of slavery in the federal territories, in the instances in which they acted upon the question. But for what reasons they so voted is not known. They may have done so because they thought a proper division of local from federal authority, or some provision or principle of the Constitution, stood in the way; or they may, without any such question, have voted against the prohibition, on what appeared to them to be sufficient grounds of expediency. No one who has sworn to sup- port the Constitution, can conscientiously vote for what he understands to be an unconstitutional measure, however expedient he may think it; but one may and ought to vote against a measure which he deems constitutional, if, at the same time, he deems it inexpedient. It, therefore, would be unsafe to set down even the two who voted against the prohibition, as having done so because, in their understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory.

The remaining sixteen of the 'thirty-nine,' so far as I have discovered, have left no record of their understanding upon the direct question of federal control of slavery in the federal territories. But there is much reason to believe that their understanding upon that question would not have appeared different from that of their twenty-three compeers, had it been manifested at all.

For the purpose of adhering rigidly to the text, I have purposely omitted whatever understanding may have been manifested by any person, however distinguished, other than the thirty-nine fathers who framed the original Constitution; and, for the same reason, I have also omitted whatever understanding may have been manifested by any of the 'thirty-nine' even, on any other phase of the general question of slavery. If we should look into their acts and declarations on those other phases, as the foreign slave trade, and the morality and policy of slavery generally, it would appear to us that on the direct question of federal control of slavery in federal territories, the sixteen, if they had acted at all, would probably have acted just as the twenty-three did. Among that sixteen were several of the most noted antislavery men of those times - as Dr Franklin, Alexander Hamilton and Gouverneur Morris - while there was not one now known to have been otherwise, unless it may be John Rutledge, of South Carolina.

The sum of the whole is, that our thirty-nine fathers who framed the original Constitution, twenty-one - a clear majority of the whole - certainly understood that no proper division of local from federal authority, nor any part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control slavery in the federal territories; while all the rest probably had the same understanding. Such, unquestionably, was the understanding of our fathers who framed the original Constitution; and the text affirms that they understood the question 'better than we.'

But, so far, I have been considering the understanding of the question manifested by the framers of the original Constitution. In and by the original instrument, a mode was provided for amending it; and, as I have already stated, the present frame of 'the Government under which we live' consists of that original, and twelve amendatory articles framed and adopted since. Those who now insist that federal control of slavery in federal territories violates the Constitution, point us to the provisions which they suppose it thus violates; and, as I understand, they all fix upon provisions in these amendatory articles, and not in the original instrument. The Supreme Court, in the Dred Scott case, plant themselves upon the fifth amendment, which provides that no person shall be deprived of 'life, liberty or property without due process of law;' while Senator Douglas and his peculiar adherents plant themselves upon the tenth amendment, providing that 'the powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution,' 'are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.'

Now, it so happens that these amendments were framed by the first Congress which sat under the Constitution - the identical Congress which passed the act already mentioned, enforcing the prohibition of slavery in the Northwestern Territory. Not only was it the same Congress, but they were the identical, same individual men who, at the same session, and at the same time within the session, had under consideration, and in progress toward maturity, these Constitutional amendments, and this act prohibiting slavery in all the territory the nation then owned. The Constitutional amendments were introduced before, and passed under the act enforcing the Ordinance of '87; so that, during the whole pendency of the act to enforce the Ordinance, the Constitutional amendments were also pending.

The seventy-six members of that Congress, including sixteen of the framers of the original Constitution, as before stated, were preeminently our fathers who framed that part of 'the Government under which we live,' which is now claimed as forbidding the Federal Government to control slavery in the federal territories.

Is it not a little presumptuous in any one at this day to affirm that the two things which that Congress deliberately framed, and carried to maturity at the same time, are absolutely inconsistent with each other? And does not such affirmation become impudently absurd when coupled with the other affirmation from the same mouth, that those who did the two things, alleged to be inconsistent, understood whether they really were inconsistent better than we - better than he who affirms that they are inconsistent?

It is surely safe to assume that the thirty-nine framers of the original Constitution, and the seventy-six members of the Congress which framed the amendments thereto, taken together, do certainly include those who may be fairly called 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live.' And so assuming, I defy any man to show that any one of them ever, in his whole life, declared that, in his understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. I go a step further. I defy any one to show that any living man in the whole world ever did, prior to the beginning of the present century, (and I might almost say prior to the beginning of the last half of the present century,) declare that, in his understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. To those who now so declare, I give, not only 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live,' but with them all other living men within the century in which it was framed, among whom to search, and they shall not be able to find the evidence of a single man agreeing with them.

Now, and here, let me guard a little against being misunderstood. I do not mean to say we are bound to follow implicitly in whatever our fathers did. To do so, would be to discard all the lights of current experience - to reject all progress - all improvement. What I do say is, that if we would supplant the opinions and policy of our fathers in any case, we should do so upon evidence so conclusive, and argument so clear, that even their great authority, fairly considered and weighed, cannot stand; and most surely not in a case whereof we ourselves declare they understood the question better than we.

If any man at this day sincerely believes that a proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so, and to enforce his position by all truthful evidence and fair argument which he can. But he has no right to mislead others, who have less access to history, and less leisure to study it, into the false belief that 'our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live,' were of the same opinion - thus substituting falsehood and deception for truthful evidence and fair argument. If any man at this day sincerely believes 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live,' used and applied principles, in other cases, which ought to have led them to understand that a proper division of local from federal authority or some part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so. But he should, at the same time, brave the responsibility of declaring that, in his opinion, he understands their principles better than they did themselves; and especially should he not shirk that responsibility by asserting that they 'understood the question just as well, and even better, than we do now.'

But enough! Let all who believe that 'our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live, understood this question just as well, and even better, than we do now,' speak as they spoke, and act as they acted upon it. This is all Republicans ask - all Republicans desire - in relation to slavery. As those fathers marked it, so let it be again marked, as an evil not to be extended, but to be tolerated and protected only because of and so far as its actual presence among us makes that toleration and protection a necessity. Let all the guaranties those fathers gave it, be, not grudgingly, but fully and fairly maintained. For this Republicans contend, and with this, so far as I know or believe, they will be content.

And now, if they would listen - as I suppose they will not - I would address a few words to the Southern people.

I would say to them: - You consider yourselves a reasonable and a just people; and I consider that in the general qualities of reason and justice you are not inferior to any other people. Still, when you speak of us Republicans, you do so only to denounce us as reptiles, or, at the best, as no better than outlaws. You will grant a hearing to pirates or murderers, but nothing like it to 'Black Republicans.' In all your contentions with one another, each of you deems an unconditional condemnation of 'Black Republicanism' as the first thing to be attended to. Indeed, such condemnation of us seems to be an indispensable prerequisite - license, so to speak - among you to be admitted or permitted to speak at all. Now, can you, or not, be prevailed upon to pause and to consider whether this is quite just to us, or even to yourselves? Bring forward your charges and specifications, and then be patient long enough to hear us deny or justify.

You say we are sectional. We deny it. That makes an issue; and the burden of proof is upon you. You produce your proof; and what is it? Why, that our party has no existence in your section - gets no votes in your section. The fact is substantially true; but does it prove the issue? If it does, then in case we should, without change of principle, begin to get votes in your section, we should thereby cease to be sectional. You cannot escape this conclusion; and yet, are you willing to abide by it? If you are, you will probably soon find that we have ceased to be sectional, for we shall get votes in your section this very year. You will then begin to discover, as the truth plainly is, that your proof does not touch the issue. The fact that we get no votes in your section, is a fact of your making, and not of ours. And if there be fault in that fact, that fault is primarily yours, and remains so until you show that we repel you by some wrong principle or practice. If we do repel you by any wrong principle or practice, the fault is ours; but this brings you to where you ought to have started - to a discussion of the right or wrong of our principle. If our principle, put in practice, would wrong your section for the benefit of ours, or for any other object, then our principle, and we with it, are sectional, and are justly opposed and denounced as such. Meet us, then, on the question of whether our principle, put in practice, would wrong your section; and so meet us as if it were possible that something may be said on our side. Do you accept the challenge? No! Then you really believe that the principle which 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live' thought so clearly right as to adopt it, and indorse it again and again, upon their official oaths, is in fact so clearly wrong as to demand your condemnation without a moment's consideration.

Some of you delight to flaunt in our faces the warning against sectional parties given by Washington in his Farewell Address. Less than eight years before Washington gave that warning, he had, as President of the United States, approved and signed an act of Congress, enforcing the prohibition of slavery in the Northwestern Territory, which act embodied the policy of the Government upon that subject up to and at the very moment he penned that warning; and about one year after he penned it, he wrote La Fayette that he considered that prohibition a wise measure, expressing in the same connection his hope that we should at some time have a confederacy of free States.

Bearing this in mind, and seeing that sectionalism has since arisen upon this same subject, is that warning a weapon in your hands against us, or in our hands against you? Could Washington himself speak, would he cast the blame of that sectionalism upon us, who sustain his policy, or upon you who repudiate it? We respect that warning of Washington, and we commend it to you, together with his example pointing to the right application of it.

But you say you are conservative - eminently conservative - while we are revolutionary, destructive, or something of the sort. What is conservatism? Is it not adherence to the old and tried, against the new and untried? We stick to, contend for, the identical old policy on the point in controversy which was adopted by 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live;' while you with one accord reject, and scout, and spit upon that old policy, and insist upon substituting something new. True, you disagree among yourselves as to what the substitute shall be. You are divided on new propositions and plans, but you are unanimous in rejecting and denouncing the old policy of the fathers. Some of you are for reviving the foreign slave trade; some for a Congressional Slave-Code for the Territories; some for Congress forbidding the Territories to prohibit Slavery within their limits; some for maintaining Slavery in the Territories through the judiciary; some for the 'gur-reat pur-rinciple' that 'if one man would enslave another, no third man should object,' fantastically called 'Popular Sovereignty;' but never a man among you in favor of federal prohibition of slavery in federal territories, according to the practice of 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live.' Not one of all your various plans can show a precedent or an advocate in the century within which our Government originated. Consider, then, whether your claim of conservatism for yourselves, and your charge of destructiveness against us, are based on the most clear and stable foundations.

Again, you say we have made the slavery question more prominent than it formerly was. We deny it. We admit that it is more prominent, but we deny that we made it so. It was not we, but you, who discarded the old policy of the fathers. We resisted, and still resist, your innovation; and thence comes the greater prominence of the question. Would you have that question reduced to its former proportions? Go back to that old policy. What has been will be again, under the same conditions. If you would have the peace of the old times, readopt the precepts and policy of the old times.

You charge that we stir up insurrections among your slaves. We deny it; and what is your proof ? Harper's Ferry! John Brown!! John Brown was no Republican; and you have failed to implicate a single Republican in his Harper's Ferry enterprise. If any member of our party is guilty in that matter, you know it or you do not know it. If you do know it, you are inexcusable for not designating the man and proving the fact. If you do not know it, you are inexcusable for asserting it, and especially for persisting in the assertion after you have tried and failed to make the proof. You need not be told that persisting in a charge which one does not know to be true, is simply malicious slander.

Some of you admit that no Republican designedly aided or encouraged the Harper's Ferry affair; but still insist that our doctrines and declarations necessarily lead to such results. We do not believe it. We know we hold to no doctrine, and make no declaration, which were not held to and made by 'our fathers who framed the Government under which we live.' You never dealt fairly by us in relation to this affair. When it occurred, some important State elections were near at hand, and you were in evident glee with the belief that, by charging the blame upon us, you could get an advantage of us in those elections. The elections came, and your expectations were not quite fulfilled. Every Republican man knew that, as to himself at least, your charge was a slander, and he was not much inclined by it to cast his vote in your favor. Republican doctrines and declarations are accompanied with a continual protest against any interference whatever with your slaves, or with you about your slaves. Surely, this does not encourage them to revolt. True, we do, in common with 'our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live,' declare our belief that slavery is wrong; but the slaves do not hear us declare even this. For anything we say or do, the slaves would scarcely know there is a Republican party. I believe they would not, in fact, generally know it but for your misrepresentations of us, in their hearing. In your political contests among yourselves, each faction charges the other with sympathy with Black Republicanism; and then, to give point to the charge, defines Black Republicanism to simply be insurrection, blood and thunder among the slaves.

Slave insurrections are no more common now than they were before the Republican party was organized. What induced the Southampton insurrection, twentyeight years ago, in which, at least, three times as many lives were lost as at Harper's Ferry? You can scarcely stretch your very elastic fancy to the conclusion that Southampton was 'got up by Black Republicanism.' In the present state of things in the United States, I do not think a general, or even a very extensive slave insurrection, is possible. The indispensable concert of action cannot be attained. The slaves have no means of rapid communication; nor can incendiary freemen, black or white, supply it. The explosive materials are everywhere in parcels; but there neither are, nor can be supplied, the indispensable connecting trains.

Much is said by Southern people about the affection of slaves for their masters and mistresses; and a part of it, at least, is true. A plot for an uprising could scarcely be devised and communicated to twenty individuals before some one of them, to save the life of a favorite master or mistress, would divulge it. This is the rule; and the slave revolution in Hayti was not an exception to it, but a case occurring under peculiar circumstances. The gunpowder plot of British history, though not connected with slaves, was more in point. In that case, only about twenty were admitted to the secret; and yet one of them, in his anxiety to save a friend, betrayed the plot to that friend, and, by consequence, averted the calamity. Occasional poisonings from the kitchen, and open or stealthy assassinations in the field, and local revolts extending to a score or so, will continue to occur as the natural results of slavery; but no general insurrection of slaves, as I think, can happen in this country for a long time. Whoever much fears, or much hopes for such an event, will be alike disappointed.

In the language of Mr Jefferson, uttered many years ago, 'It is still in our power to direct the process of emancipation, and deportation, peaceably, and in such slow degrees, as that the evil will wear off insensibly; and their places be, pari passu, filled up by free white laborers. If, on the contrary, it is left to force itself on, human nature must shudder at the prospect held up.'

Mr Jefferson did not mean to say, nor do I, that the power of emancipation is in the Federal Government. He spoke of Virginia; and, as to the power of emancipation, I speak of the slaveholding States only. The Federal Government, however, as we insist, has the power of restraining the extension of the institution - the power to insure that a slave insurrection shall never occur on any American soil which is now free from slavery.

John Brown's effort was peculiar. It was not a slave insurrection. It was an attempt by white men to get up a revolt among slaves, in which the slaves refused to participate. In fact, it was so absurd that the slaves, with all their ignorance, saw plainly enough it could not succeed. That affair, in its philosophy, corresponds with the many attempts, related in history, at the assassination of kings and emperors. An enthusiast broods over the oppression of a people till he fancies himself commissioned by Heaven to liberate them. He ventures the attempt, which ends in little else than his own execution. Orsini's attempt on Louis Napoleon, and John Brown's attempt at Harper's Ferry were, in their philosophy, precisely the same. The eagerness to cast blame on old England in the one case, and on New England in the other, does not disprove the sameness of the two things.

And how much would it avail you, if you could, by the use of John Brown, Helper's Book, and the like, break up the Republican organization? Human action can be modified to some extent, but human nature cannot be changed. There is a judgment and a feeling against slavery in this nation, which cast at least a million and a half of votes. You cannot destroy that judgment and feeling - that sentiment - by breaking up the political organization which rallies around it. You can scarcely scatter and disperse an army which has been formed into order in the face of your heaviest fire; but if you could, how much would you gain by forcing the sentiment which created it out of the peaceful channel of the ballot-box, into some other channel? What would that other channel probably be? Would the number of John Browns be lessened or enlarged by the operation?

But you will break up the Union rather than submit to a denial of your Constitutional rights.

That has a somewhat reckless sound; but it would be palliated, if not fully justified, were we proposing, by the mere force of numbers, to deprive you of some right, plainly written down in the Constitution. But we are proposing no such thing.

When you make these declarations, you have a specific and well-understood allusion to an assumed Constitutional right of yours, to take slaves into the federal territories, and to hold them there as property. But no such right is specifically written in the Constitution. That instrument is literally silent about any such right. We, on the contrary, deny that such a right has any existence in the Constitution, even by implication.

Your purpose, then, plainly stated, is, that you will destroy the Government, unless you be allowed to construe and enforce the Constitution as you please, on all points in dispute between you and us. You will rule or ruin in all events.

This, plainly stated, is your language. Perhaps you will say the Supreme Court has decided the disputed Constitutional question in your favor. Not quite so. But waiving the lawyer's distinction between dictum and decision, the Court have decided the question for you in a sort of way. The Court have substantially said, it is your Constitutional right to take slaves into the federal territories, and to hold them there as property. When I say the decision was made in a sort of way, I mean it was made in a divided Court, by a bare majority of the Judges, and they not quite agreeing with one another in the reasons for making it; that it is so made as that its avowed supporters disagree with one another about its meaning, and that it was mainly based upon a mistaken statement of fact - the statement in the opinion that 'the right of property in a slave is distinctly and expressly affirmed in the Constitution.'

An inspection of the Constitution will show that the right of property in a slave is not 'distinctly and expressly affirmed' in it. Bear in mind, the Judges do not pledge their judicial opinion that such right is impliedlyaffirmed in the Constitution; but they pledge their veracity that it is ' distinctly and expressly' affirmed there-'distinctly,' that is, not mingled with anything else-'expressly,' that is, in words meaning just that, without the aid of any inference, and susceptible of no other meaning.

If they had only pledged their judicial opinion that such right is affirmed in the instrument by implication, it would be open to others to show that neither the word 'slave' nor 'slavery' is to be found in the Constitution, nor the word 'property' even, in any connection with language alluding to the things slave, or slavery, and that wherever in that instrument the slave is alluded to, he is called a 'person;'- and wherever his master's legal right in relation to him is alluded to, it is spoken of as 'service or labor which may be due,' - as a debt payable in service or labor. Also, it would be open to show, by contemporaneous history, that this mode of alluding to slaves and slavery, instead of speaking of them, was employed on purpose to exclude from the Constitution the idea that there could be property in man.

To show all this, is easy and certain.

When this obvious mistake of the Judges shall be brought to their notice, is it not reasonable to expect that they will withdraw the mistaken statement, and reconsider the conclusion based upon it?

And then it is to be remembered that 'our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live'- the men who made the Constitution - decided this same Constitutional question in our favor, long ago - decided it without division among themselves, when making the decision; without division among themselves about the meaning of it after it was made, and, so far as any evidence is left, without basing it upon any mistaken statement of facts.

Under all these circumstances, do you really feel yourselves justified to break up this Government, unless such a court decision as yours is, shall be at once submitted to as a conclusive and final rule of political action? But you will not abide the election of a Republican President! In that supposed event, you say, you will destroy the Union; and then, you say, the great crime of having destroyed it will be upon us! That is cool. A highwayman holds a pistol to my ear, and mutters through his teeth, 'Stand and deliver, or I shall kill you, and then you will be a murderer!'

To be sure, what the robber demanded of me - my money - was my own; and I had a clear right to keep it; but it was no more my own than my vote is my own; and the threat of death to me, to extort my money, and the threat of destruction to the Union, to extort my vote, can scarcely be distinguished in principle.

A few words now to Republicans. It is exceedingly desirable that all parts of this great Confederacy shall be at peace, and in harmony, one with another. Let us Republicans do our part to have it so. Even though much provoked, let us do nothing through passion and ill temper. Even though the southern people will not so much as listen to us, let us calmly consider their demands, and yield to them if, in our deliberate view of our duty, we possibly can. Judging by all they say and do, and by the subject and nature of their controversy with us, let us determine, if we can, what will satisfy them.

Will they be satisfied if the Territories be unconditionally surrendered to them? We know they will not. In all their present complaints against us, the Territories are scarcely mentioned. Invasions and insurrections are the rage now. Will it satisfy them, if, in the future, we have nothing to do with invasions and insurrections? We know it will not. We so know, because we know we never had anything to do with invasions and insurrections; and yet this total abstaining does not exempt us from the charge and the denunciation.

The question recurs, what will satisfy them? Simply this: We must not only let them alone, but we must, somehow, convince them that we do let them alone. This, we know by experience, is no easy task. We have been so trying to convince them from the very beginning of our organization, but with no success. In all our platforms and speeches we have constantly protested our purpose to let them alone; but this has had no tendency to convince them. Alike unavailing to convince them, is the fact that they have never detected a man of us in any attempt to disturb them.

These natural, and apparently adequate means all failing, what will convince them? This, and this only: cease to call slavery wrong, and join them in calling it right. And this must be done thoroughly - done in acts as well as in words. Silence will not be tolerated - we must place ourselves avowedly with them. Senator Douglas's new sedition law must be enacted and enforced, suppressing all declarations that slavery is wrong, whether made in politics, in presses, in pulpits, or in private. We must arrest and return their fugitive slaves with greedy pleasure. We must pull down our Free State constitutions. The whole atmosphere must be disinfected from all taint of opposition to slavery, before they will cease to believe that all their troubles proceed from us.

I am quite aware they do not state their case precisely in this way. Most of them would probably say to us, 'Let us alone, do nothing to us, and say what you please about slavery.' But we do let them alone - have never disturbed them - so that, after all, it is what we say, which dissatis- fies them. They will continue to accuse us of doing, until we cease saying.

I am also aware they have not, as yet, in terms, demanded the overthrow of our Free State Constitutions. Yet those Constitutions declare the wrong of slavery, with more solemn emphasis, than do all other sayings against it; and when all these other sayings shall have been silenced, the overthrow of these Constitutions will be demanded, and nothing be left to resist the demand. It is nothing to the contrary, that they do not demand the whole of this just now. Demanding what they do, and for the reason they do, they can voluntarily stop nowhere short of this consummation. Holding, as they do, that slavery is morally right, and socially elevating, they cannot cease to demand a full national recognition of it, as a legal right, and a social blessing.

Nor can we justifiably withhold this, on any ground save our conviction that slavery is wrong. If slavery is right, all words, acts, laws, and constitutions against it, are themselves wrong, and should be silenced and swept away. If it is right, we cannot justly object to its nationality - its universality; if it is wrong, they cannot justly insist upon its extension - its enlargement. All they ask, we could readily grant, if we thought slavery right; all we ask, they could as readily grant, if they thought it wrong. Their thinking it right, and our thinking it wrong, is the precise fact upon which depends the whole controversy. Thinking it right, as they do, they are not to blame for desiring its full recognition, as being right; but, thinking it wrong, as we do, can we yield to them? Can we cast our votes with their view, and against our own? In view of our moral, social, and political responsibilities, can we do this?

Wrong as we think slavery is, we can yet afford to let it alone where it is, because that much is due to the necessity arising from its actual presence in the nation; but can we, while our votes will prevent it, allow it to spread into the National Territories, and to overrun us here in these Free States? If our sense of duty forbids this, then let us stand by our duty, fearlessly and effectively. Let us be diverted by none of those sophistical contrivances wherewith we are so industriously plied and belabored - contrivances such as groping for some middle ground between the right and the wrong, vain as the search for a man who should be neither a living man nor a dead man - such as a policy of 'don't care' on a question about which all true men do care - such as Union appeals beseeching true Union men to yield to Disunionists, reversing the divine rule, and calling, not the sinners, but the righteous to repentance - such as invocations to Washington, imploring men to unsay what Washington said, and undo what Washington did.

Neither let us be slandered from our duty by false accusations against us, nor frightened from it by menaces of destruction to the Government nor of dungeons to ourselves.

LET US HAVE FAITH THAT RIGHT MAKES MIGHT, AND IN THAT FAITH, LET US, TO THE END, DARE TO DO OUR DUTY AS WE UNDERSTAND IT.

Farewell Address at Springfield, Illinois

11 February, 1861

My friends - No one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe every thing. Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington. Without the assistance of that Divine Being, who ever attended him, I cannot succeed. With that assistance I cannot fail. Trusting in Him, who can go with me, and remain with you and be every where for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me. I bid you an affectionate farewell

First Inaugural Address

4 March, 1861

Fellow citizens of the United States:

In compliance with a custom as old as the government itself, I appear before you to address you briefly, and to take, in your presence, the oath prescribed by the Constitution of the United States, to be taken by the President 'before he enters on the execution of his office.' I do not consider it necessary, at present, for me to discuss those matters of administration about which there is no special anxiety, or excitement.

Apprehension seems to exist among the people of the Southern States, that by the accession of a Republican Administration, their property, and their peace, and personal security, are to be endangered. There has never been any reasonable cause for such apprehension. Indeed, the most ample evidence to the contrary has all the while existed, and been open to their inspection. It is found in nearly all the published speeches of him who now addresses you. I do but quote from one of those speeches when I declare that 'I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to interfere with the institution of slavery in the States, where it exists. I believe I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no inclination to do so.' Those who nominated and elected me did so with full knowledge that I had made this, and many similar declarations, and had never recanted them. And more than this, they placed in the platform, for my acceptance, and as the law to themselves, and to me, the clear and emphatic resolution which I now read:

'Resolved, That the maintenance inviolate of the rights of the States, and especially the right of each State to order and control its own domestic institutions according to its own judgment exclusively, is essential to that balance of power on which the perfection and endurance of our political fabric depend; and we denounce the lawless invasion by armed force of the soil of any State or Territory, no matter under what pretext, as among the gravest of crimes.'

I now reiterate these sentiments, and in doing so, I only press upon the public attention the most conclusive evidence of which the case is susceptible, that the property, peace and security of no section are to be in anywise endangered by the now incoming Administration. I add too, that all the protection which, consistently with the Constitution and the laws, can be given, will be cheerfully given to all the States when lawfully demanded, for whatever cause - as cheerfully to one section, as to another.

There is much controversy about the delivering up of fugitives from service or labor. The clause I now read is as plainly written in the Constitution as any other of its provisions:

'No person held to service or labor in one State, under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor, but shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due.'

It is scarcely questioned that this provision was intended by those who made it, for the reclaiming of what we call fugitive slaves; and the intention of the lawgiver is the law. All members of Congress swear their support to the whole Constitution - to this provision as much as to any other. To the proposition, then, that slaves whose cases come within the terms of this clause, 'shall be delivered up,' their oaths are unanimous. Now, if they would make the effort in good temper, could they not, with nearly equal unanimity, frame and pass a law, by means of which to keep good that unanimous oath?

There is some difference of opinion whether this clause should be enforced by national or by state authority; but surely that difference is not a very material one. If the slave is to be surrendered, it can be of but little consequence to him, or to others, by which authority it is done. And should any one, in any case, be content that his oath shall go unkept, on a merely insubstantial controversy as to how it shall be kept?

Again, in any law upon this subject, ought not all the safeguards of liberty known in civilized and humane jurisprudence to be introduced, so that a free man be not, in any case, surrendered as a slave? And might it not be well, at the same time, to provide by law for the enforcement of that clause in the Constitution which guarranties that 'The citizens of each State shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several States?'

I take the official oath to-day, with no mental reservations, and with no purpose to construe the Constitution or laws, by any hypercritical rules. And while I do not choose now to specify particular acts of Congress as proper to be enforced, I do suggest, that it will be much safer for all, both in official and private stations, to conform to, and abide by, all those acts which stand unrepealed, than to violate any of them, trusting to find impunity in having them held to be unconstitutional.

It is seventy-two years since the first inauguration of a President under our national Constitution. During that period fifteen different and greatly distinguished citizens, have, in succession, administered the executive branch of the government. They have conducted it through many perils; and, generally, with great success. Yet, with all this scope for precedent, I now enter upon the same task for the brief constitutional term of four years, under great and peculiar difficulty. A disruption of the Federal Union heretofore only menaced, is now formidably attempted.

I hold, that in contemplation of universal law, and of the Constitution, the Union of these States is perpetual. Perpetuity is implied, if not expressed, in the fundamental law of all national governments. It is safe to assert that no government proper, ever had a provision in its organic law for its own termination. Continue to execute all the express provisions of our national Constitution, and the Union will endure forever - it being impossible to destroy it, except by some action not provided for in the instrument itself.

Again, if the United States be not a government proper, but an association of States in the nature of contract merely, can it, as a contract, be peaceably unmade, by less than all the parties who made it? One party to a contract may violate it - break it, so to speak; but does it not require all to lawfully rescind it?

Descending from these general principles, we find the proposition that, in legal contemplation, the Union is perpetual, confirmed by the history of the Union itself. The Union is much older than the Constitution. It was formed in fact, by the Articles of Association in1774. It was matured and continued by the Declaration of Independence in 1776. It was further matured and the faith of all the then thirteen States expressly plighted and engaged that it should be perpetual, by the Articles of Confederation in 1778. And finally, in 1787, one of the declared objects for ordaining and establishing the Constitution, was 'to form a more perfect union.'

But if destruction of the Union, by one, or by a part only, of the States, be lawfully possible, the Union is less perfect than before the Constitution, having lost the vital element of perpetuity.

It follows from these views that no State, upon its own mere motion, can lawfully get out of the Union,-that resolves and ordinances to that effect are legally void; and that acts of violence, within any State or States, against the authority of the United States, are insurrec tionary or revolutionary, according to circumstances.

I therefore consider that, in view of the Constitution and the laws, the Union is unbroken; and, to the extent of my ability, I shall take care, as the Constitution itself expressly enjoins upon me, that the laws of the Union be faithfully executed in all the States. Doing this I deem to be only a simple duty on my part; and I shall perform it, so far as practicable, unless my rightful masters, the American people, shall withhold the requisite means, or, in some authoritative manner, direct the contrary. I trust this will not be regarded as a menace, but only as the declared purpose of the Union that it will constitutionally defend, and maintain itself.

In doing this there needs to be no bloodshed or violence; and there shall be none, unless it be forced upon the national authority. The power confided to me, will be used to hold, occupy, and possess the property, and places belonging to the government, and to collect the duties and imposts; but beyond what may be necessary for these objects, there will be no invasion - no using of force against, or among the people anywhere. Where hostility to the United States, in any interior locality, shall be so great and so universal, as to prevent competent resident citizens from holding the Federal offices, there will be no attempt to force obnoxious strangers among the people for that object. While the strict legal right may exist in the government to enforce the exercise of these offices, the attempt to do so would be so irritating, and so nearly impracticable with all, that I deem it better to forego, for the time, the uses of such offices.

The mails, unless repelled, will continue to be furnished in all parts of the Union. So far as possible, the people everywhere shall have that sense of perfect security which is most favorable to calm thought and reflection. The course here indicated will be followed, unless current events, and experience, shall show a modification, or change, to be proper; and in every case and exigency, my best discretion will be exercised, according to circumstances actually existing, and with a view and a hope of a peaceful solution of the national troubles, and the restoration of fraternal sympathies and affections.

That there are persons in one section, or another who seek to destroy the Union at all events, and are glad of any pretext to do it, I will neither affirm or deny; but if there be such, I need address no word to them. To those, however, who really love the Union, may I not speak?

Before entering upon so grave a matter as the destruction of our national fabric, with all its benefits, its memories, and its hopes, would it not be wise to ascertain precisely why we do it? Will you hazard so desperate a step, while there is any possibility that any portion of the ills you fly from, have no real existence? Will you, while the certain ills you fly to, are greater than all the real ones you fly from? Will you risk the commission of so fearful a mistake?

All profess to be content in the Union, if all constitutional rights can be maintained. Is it true, that any right, plainly written in the Constitution, has been denied? I think not. Happily the human mind is so constituted, that no party can reach to the audacity of doing this. Think, if you can, of a single instance in which a plainly written provision of the Constitution has ever been denied. If, by the mere force of numbers, a majority should deprive a minority of any clearly written constitutional right, it might, in a moral point of view, justify revolution - certainly would, if such right were a vital one. But such is not our case. All the vital rights of minorities, and of individuals, are so plainly assured to them, by affirmations and negations, guaranties and prohibitions, in the Constitution, that controversies never arise concerning them. But no organic law can ever be framed with a provision specifically applicable to every question which may occur in practical administration. No foresight can anticipate, nor any document of reasonable length contain express provisions for all possible questions. Shall fugitives from labor be surren- dered by national or by State authority? The Constitution does not expressly say. May Congress prohibit slavery in the territories? The Constitution does not expressly say. Must Congress protect slavery in the territories? The Constitution does not expressly say.

From questions of this class spring all our constitutional controversies, and we divide upon them into majorities and minorities. If the minority will not acquiesce, the majority must, or the government must cease. There is no other alternative; for continuing the government, is acquiescence on one side or the other. If a minority, in such case, will secede rather than acquiesce, they make a precedent which, in turn, will divide and ruin them; for a minority of their own will secede from them, whenever a majority refuses to be controlled by such minority. For instance, why may not any portion of a new confederacy, a year or two hence, arbitrarily secede again, precisely as portions of the present Union now claim to secede from it. All who cherish disunion sentiments, are now being educated to the exact temper of doing this. Is there such perfect identity of interests among the States to compose a new Union, as to produce harmony only, and prevent renewed secession?

Plainly, the central idea of secession, is the essence of anarchy. A majority, held in restraint by constitutional checks, and limitations, and always changing easily, with deliberate changes of popular opinions and sentiments, is the only true sovereign of a free people. Whoever rejects it, does, of necessity, fly to anarchy or to despotism. Unanimity is impossible; the rule of a minority, as a permanent arrangement, is wholly inadmissable; so that, rejecting the majority principle, anarchy, or despotism in some form, is all that is left.

I do not forget the position assumed by some, that constitutional questions are to be decided by the Supreme Court; nor do I deny that such decisions must be binding in any case, upon the parties to a suit, as to the object of that suit, while they are also entitled to very high respect and consideration, in all parallel cases, by all other departments of the government. And while it is obviously possible that such decision may be erroneous in any given case, still the evil effect following it, being limited to that particular case, with the chance that it may be over-ruled, and never become a precedent for other cases, can better be borne than could the evils of a different practice. At the same time the candid citizen must confess that if the policy of the government, upon vital questions, affecting the whole people, is to be irrevocably fixed by decisions of the Supreme Court, the instant they are made, in ordinary litigation between parties, in personal actions, the people will have ceased, to be their own rulers, having, to that extent, practically resigned their government, into the hands of that eminent tribunal. Nor is there, in this view, any assault upon the court, or the judges. It is a duty, from which they may not shrink, to decide cases properly brought before them; and it is no fault of theirs, if others seek to turn their decisions to political purposes.

One section of our country believes slavery is right, and ought to be extended, while the other believes it is wrong, and ought not to be extended. This is the only substantial dispute. The fugitive slave clause of the Constitution, and the law for the suppression of the foreign slave trade, are each as well enforced, perhaps, as any law can ever be in a community where the moral sense of the people imperfectly supports the law itself. The great body of the people abide by the dry legal obligation in both cases, and a few break over in each. This, I think, cannot be perfectly cured; and it would be worse in both cases after the separation of the sections, than before. The foreign slave trade, now imperfectly suppressed, would be ultimately revived without restriction, in one section; while fugitive slaves, now only partially surrendered, would not be surrendered at all, by the other.

Physically speaking, we cannot separate. We cannot remove our respective sections from each other, nor build an impassable wall between them. A husband and wife may be divorced, and go out of the presence, and beyond the reach of each other; but the different parts of our country cannot do this. They cannot but remain face to face; and intercourse, either amicable or hostile, must continue between them. Is it possible then to make that intercourse more advantageous, or more satisfactory, after separation than before? Can aliens make treaties easier than friends can make laws? Can treaties be more faithfully enforced between aliens, than laws can among friends? Suppose you go to war, you cannot fight always; and when, after much loss on both sides, and no gain on either, you cease fighting, the identical old questions, as to terms of intercourse, are again upon you.

This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amending it, or their revolutionaryright to dismember, or overthrow it. I can not be ignorant of the fact that many worthy, and patriotic citizens are desirous of having the national constitution amended. While I make no recommendation of amendments, I fully recognize the rightful authority of the people over the whole subject, to be exercised in either of the modes prescribed in the instrument itself; and I should, under existing circumstances, favor, rather than oppose, a fair opportunity being afforded the people to act upon it.

I will venture to add that, to me, the convention mode seems preferable, in that it allows amendments to originate with the people themselves, instead of only permitting them to take, or reject, propositions, originated by others, not especially chosen for the purpose, and which might not be precisely such, as they would wish to either accept or refuse. I understand a proposed amendment to the Constitution - which amendment, however, I have not seen, has passed Congress, to the effect that the federal government, shall never interfere with the domestic institutions of the States, including that of persons held to service. To avoid misconstruction of what I have said, I depart from my purpose not to speak of particular amendments, so far as to say that, holding such a provision to now be implied constitutional law, I have no objection to its being made express, and irrevocable.

The Chief Magistrate derives all his authority from the people, and they have conferred none upon him to fix terms for the separation of the States. The people themselves can do this also if they choose; but the executive, as such, has nothing to do with it. His duty is to administer the present government, as it came to his hands, and to transmit it, unimpaired by him, to his successor.

Why should there not be a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people? Is there any better, or equal hope, in the world? In our present differences, is either party without faith of being in the right? If the Almighty Ruler of nations, with His eternal truth and justice, be on your side of the North, or on yours of the South, that truth, and that justice, will surely prevail, by the judgment of this great tribunal, the American people.

By the frame of the government under which we live, this same people have wisely given their public servants but little power for mischief; and have, with equal wisdom, provided for the return of that little to their own hands at very short intervals.

While the people retain their virtue, and vigilance, no administration, by any extreme of wickedness or folly, can very seriously injure the government, in the short space of four years.

My countrymen, one and all, think calmly and well, upon this whole subject. Nothing valuable can be lost by taking time. If there be an object to hurry any of you, in hot haste, to a step which you would never take deliberately, that object will be frustrated by taking time; but no good object can be frustrated by it. Such of you as are now dissatisfied, still have the old Constitution unimpaired, and, on the sensitive point, the laws of your own framing under it; while the new administration will have no immediate power, if it would, to change either. If it were admitted that you who are dissatisfied, hold the right side in the dispute, there still is no single good reason for precipitate action. Intelligence, patriotism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on Him, who has never yet forsaken this favored land, are still competent to adjust, in the best way, all our present difficulty.

In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you. You can have no conflict, without being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the government, while I shall have the most solemn one to 'preserve, protect and defend' it.

I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, streching from every battlefield, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

Address at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

19 November, 1863

Address delivered at the dedication of the Cemetery at Gettysburg.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate - we can not hallow - this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Response to Serenade, Washington, D.C.

10 November, 1864

It has long been a grave question whether any government, not too strong for the liberties of its people, can be strong enough to maintain its own existence, in great emergencies.

On this point the present rebellion brought our republic to a severe test; and a presidential election occurring in regular course during the rebellion added not a little to the strain. If the loyal people, united, were put to the utmost of their strength by the rebellion, must they not fail when divided, and partially paralized, by a political war among themselves?

But the election was a necessity.

We can not have free government without elections; and if the rebellion could force us to forego, or postpone a national election, it might fairly claim to have already conquered and ruined us. The strife of the election is but human-nature practically applied to the facts of the case. What has occurred in this case, must ever recur in similar cases. Human-nature will not change. In any future great national trial, compared with the men of this, we shall have as weak, and as strong; as silly and as wise; as bad and good. Let us, therefore, study the incidents of this, as philosophy to learn wisdom from, and none of them as wrongs to be revenged.

But the election, along with its incidental, and undesirable strife, has done good too. It has demonstrated that a people's government can sustain a national election, in the midst of a great civil war. Until now it has not been known to the world that this was a possibility. It shows also how sound, and how strongwe still are. It shows that, even among candidates of the same party, he who is most devoted to the Union, and most opposed to treason, can receive most of the people's votes. It shows also, to the extent yet known, that we have more men now, than we had when the war began. Gold is good in its place; but living, brave, patriotic men, are better than gold.

But the rebellion continues; and now that the election is over, may not all, having a common interest, re-unite in a common effort, to save our common country? For my own part I have striven, and shall strive to avoid placing any obstacle in the way. So long as I have been here I have not willingly planted a thorn in any man's bosom.

While I am deeply sensible to the high compliment of a re-election; and duly grateful, as I trust, to Almighty God for having directed my countrymen to a right conclusion, as I think, for their own good, it adds nothing to my satisfaction that any other man may be disappointed or pained by the result.

May I ask those who have not differed with me, to join with me, in this same spirit towards those who have?

And now, let me close by asking three hearty cheers for our brave soldiers and seamen and their gallant and skilful commanders.

Second Inaugural Address

4 March, 1865

Fellow Countrymen:

At this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil-war. All dreaded it - all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroyit without war - seeking to dissolve the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.

One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the Southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes. 'Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs by that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!' If we shall suppose that American Slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope - fervently do we pray - that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said 'the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether.'

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan - to do all which may achieve and cherish a just, and a lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.

Response to Serenade, Washington, D.C.

10 April, 1865

'FELLOW CITIZENS: I am very greatly rejoiced to find that an occasion has occurred so pleasurable that the people cannot restrain themselves. [Cheers.] I suppose that arrangements are being made for some sort of a formal demonstration, this, or perhaps, to-morrow night. [Cries of "We can't wait," "We want it now," &c.] If there should be such a demonstration, I, of course, will be called upon to respond, and I shall have nothing to say if you dribble it all out of me before. [Laughter and applause.] I see you have a band of music with you. [Voices, "We have two or three."] I propose closing up this interview by the band performing a particular tune which I will name. Before this is done, however, I wish to mention one or two little circumstances connected with it. I have always thought "Dixie" one of the best tunes I have ever heard. Our adversaries over the way attempted to appropriate it, but I insisted yesterday that we fairly captured it. [Applause.] I presented the question to the Attorney General, and he gave it as his legal opinion that it is our lawful prize. [Laughter and applause.] I now request the band to favor me with its performance.'

Lincoln's Final Public Address

[Speech on Reconstruction, Washington, D.C.]

11 April, 1865

We meet this evening, not in sorrow, but in gladness of heart. The evacuation of Petersburg and Richmond, and the surrender of the principal insurgent army, give hope of a righteous and speedy peace whose joyous expression can not be restrained. In the midst of this, however, He, from Whom all blessings flow, must not be forgotten. A call for a national thanksgiving is being prepared, and will be duly promulgated. Nor must those whose harder part gives us the cause of rejoicing, be overlooked. Their honors must not be parcelled out with others. I myself, was near the front, and had the high pleasure of transmitting much of the good news to you; but no part of the honor, for plan or execution, is mine. To Gen. Grant, his skilful officers, and brave men, all belongs. The gallant Navy stood ready, but was not in reach to take active part.

By these recent successes the re-inauguration of the national authority - reconstruction - which has had a large share of thought from the first, is pressed much more closely upon our attention. It is fraught with great difficulty. Unlike the case of a war between independent nations, there is no authorized organ for us to treat with. No one man has authority to give up the rebellion for any other man. We simply must begin with, and mould from, disorganized and discordant elements. Nor is it a small additional embarrassment that we, the loyal people, differ among ourselves as to the mode, manner, and means of reconstruction.

As a general rule, I abstain from reading the reports of attacks upon myself, wishing not to be provoked by that to which I can not properly offer an answer. In spite of this precaution, however, it comes to my knowledge that I am much censured for some supposed agency in setting up, and seeking to sustain, the new State Government of Louisiana. In this I have done just so much as, and no more than, the public knows. In the Annual Message of Dec. 1863 and accompanying Procla- mation, I presented a plan of reconstruction (as the phrase goes) which, I promised, if adopted by any State, should be acceptable to, and sustained by, the Executive government of the nation. I distinctly stated that this was not the only plan which might possibly be acceptable; and I also distinctly protested that the Executive claimed no right to say when, or whether members should be admitted to seats in Congress from such States. This plan was, in advance, submitted to the then Cabinet, and distinctly approved by every member of it. One of them suggested that I should then, and in that connection, apply the Emancipation Proclamation to the theretofore excepted parts of Virginia and Louisiana; that I should drop the suggestion about apprenticeship for freed-people, and that I should omit the protest against my own power, in regard to the admission of members to Congress; but even he approved every part and parcel of the plan which has since been employed or touched by the action of Louisiana. The new constitution of Louisiana, declaring emancipation for the whole State, practically applies the Proclamation to the part previously excepted. It does not adopt apprenticeship for freed-people; and it is silent, as it could not well be otherwise, about the admission of members to Congress. So that, as it applies to Louisiana, every member of the Cabinet fully approved the plan. The Message went to Congress, and I received many commendations of the plan, written and verbal; and not a single objection to it, from any professed emancipationist, came to my knowledge, until after the news reached Washington that the people of Louisiana had begun to move in accordance with it. From about July 1862, I had corresponded with different persons, supposed to be interested, seeking a reconstruction of a State government for Louisiana. When the Message of 1863, with the plan before mentioned, reached New Orleans, Gen. Banks wrote me that he was confident the people, with his military co-operation, would reconstruct, substantially on that plan. I wrote him, and some of them to try it; they tried it, and the result is known. Such only has been my agency in getting up the Louisiana government. As to sustaining it, my promise is out, as before stated. But, as bad promises are better broken than kept, I shall treat this as a bad promise, and break it, whenever I shall be convinced that keeping it is adverse to the public interest. But I have not yet been so convinced.

I have been shown a letter on this subject, supposed to be an able one, in which the writer expresses regret that my mind has not seemed to be definitely fixed on the question whether the seceded States, so called, are in the Union or out of it. It would perhaps, add astonishment to his regret, were he to learn that since I have found professed Union men endeavoring to make that question, I have purposely forborne any public expression upon it. As appears to me that question has not been, nor yet is, a practically material one, and that any discussion of it, while it thus remains practically immaterial, could have no effect other than the mischievous one of dividing our friends. As yet, whatever it may hereafter become, that question is bad, as the basis of a controversy, and good for nothing at all-a merely pernicious abstraction.

We all agree that the seceded States, so called, are out of their proper practical relation with the Union; and that the sole object of the government, civil and military, in regard to those States is to again get them into that proper practical relation. I believe it is not only possible, but in fact, easier, to do this, without deciding, or even considering, whether these states have even been out of the Union, than with it. Finding themselves safely at home, it would be utterly immaterial whether they had ever been abroad. Let us all join in doing the acts necessary to restoring the proper practical relations between these states and the Union; and each forever after, innocently indulge his own opinion whether, in doing the acts, he brought the States from without, into the Union, or only gave them proper assistance, they never having been out of it.

The amount of constituency, so to speak, on which the new Louisiana government rests, would be more satisfactory to all, if it contained fifty, thirty, or even twenty thousand, instead of only about twelve thousand, as it does. It is also unsatisfactory to some that the elective franchise is not given to the colored man. I would myself prefer that it were now conferred on the very intelligent, and on those who serve our cause as soldiers. Still the question is not whether the Louisiana government, as it stands, is quite all that is desirable. The question is 'Will it be wiser to take it as it is, and help to improve it; or to reject, and disperse it?' 'Can Louisiana be brought into proper practical relation with the Union sooner by sustaining, or by discarding her new State Government?'

Some twelve thousand voters in the heretofore slavestate of Louisiana have sworn allegiance to the Union, assumed to be the rightful political power of the State, held elections, organized a State government, adopted a free-state constitution, giving the benefit of public schools equally to black and white, and empowering the Legislature to confer the elective franchise upon the colored man. Their Legislature has already voted to ratify the constitutional amendment recently passed by Congress, abolishing slavery throughout the nation. These twelve thousand persons are thus fully committed to the Union, and to perpetual freedom in the state - committed to the very things, and nearly all the things the nation wants - and they ask the nations recognition, and it's assistance to make good their committal. Now, if we reject, and spurn them, we do our utmost to disorganize and disperse them. We in effect say to the white men 'You are worthless, or worse - we will neithe help you, nor be helped by you.' To the blacks we say 'This cup of liberty which these, your old masters, hold to your lips, we will dash from you, and leave you to the chances of gathering the spilled and scattered contents in some vague and undefined when, where, and how.' If this course, discouraging and paralyzing both white and black, has any tendency to bring Louisiana into proper practical relations with the Union, I have, so far, been unable to perceive it. If, on the contrary, we recognize, and sustain the new government of Louisiana the converse of all this is made true. We encourage the hearts, and nerve the arms of the twelve thousand to adhere to their work, and argue for it, and proselyte for it, and fight for it, and feed it, and grow it, and ripen it to a complete success. The colored man too, in seeing all united for him, is inspired with vigilance, and energy, and daring, to the same end. Grant that he desires the elective franchise, will he not attain it sooner by saving the already advanced steps toward it, than by running backward over them? Concede that the new government of Louisiana is only to what it should be as the egg is to the fowl, we shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it? Again, if we reject Louisiana, we also reject one vote in favor of the proposed amendment to the national constitution. To meet this proposition, it has been argued that no more than three fourths of those States which have not attempted secession are necessary to validly ratify the amendment. I do not commit myself against this, further than to say that such a ratification would be questionable, and sure to be persistently questioned; while a ratification by three fourths of all the States would be unquestioned and unquestionable.

I repeat the question. 'Can Louisiana be brought into proper practical relation with the Union sooner by sustaining or by discarding her new State Government?'

What has been said of Louisiana will apply generally to other States. And yet so great peculiarities pertain to each state; and such important and sudden changes occur in the same state; and, withal, so new and unprecedented is the whole case, that no exclusive, and inflexible plan can safely be prescribed as to details and colatterals. Such exclusive, and inflexible plan, would surely become a new entanglement. Important principles may, and must, be inflexible.

In the present 'situation' as the phrase goes, it may be my duty to make some new announcement to the people of the South. I am considering, and shall not fail to act, when satisfied that action will be proper.

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

论人类：英汉双语／（英）霍布斯著；汪涛、舒阳亭译．—北京：中译出版社，2015.7

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978–7–5001–4182–2

Ⅰ．①论…　Ⅱ．①霍…　②汪…　③舒…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②哲学理论—英国—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4②B

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2015）第146376号

Penguin Books Ltd，Registered Office：80 Strand，London WC2R ORL，England

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First published in Penguin Classics 1985

This extract published in Penguin Books 2005

Taken from the Penguin Classics edition of Leviathan

edited by C.B．MacPherson

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯 ·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004．In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20．A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related，even smaller series in Germany．Te books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world—particularly students．Te launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development．

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics．For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction，extensive notes，a bibliography and so on．While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful，I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling—to recreate the atmosphere in which，for example，Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published—where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense．

This method has its severe disadvantages—there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand，some important context might be missing．For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence．The advantages however are very clear—most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important．Te sense of anger in Tomas Paine，of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin，of resignation in Seneca—few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives，sometimes for centuries，in many different countries．Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer—our politics，economics，intellectual lives，social planning，religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books，first written down long ago．

Te Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve．In different parts of the world different writers would be included．In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others．In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere．We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas—these ideas are great because they have been so enormously infuential，but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas—indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas．Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series—for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin，Michel de Montaigne to Seneca．But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series！But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves．We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books．

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

目录

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读

导言

论人类

论国家

论黑暗王国

Contents

The Introduction

Of Man

Of Common-wealth

Of the Kingdome of Darknesse

返回总目录

译者导读

《论人类》是由英国政治家、哲学家托马斯·霍布斯（Thomas Hobbes，1588—1679）所写的一本具有较强思辨性质的书籍。托马斯·霍布斯出生于英国的一个牧师家庭，毕业于牛津大学。他生活的年代处于欧洲启蒙运动时期，当时欧洲出现了许多反对封建专制统治和教会思想、强调人权的代表人物，托马斯·霍布斯也是其中之一，他受到欧洲启蒙运动的影响，反对君权神授，奠定了西方政治哲学发展的基础，是近代第一个在自然法基础上系统发展了国家契约学说的资产阶级启蒙思想家，他的思想对后来的孟德斯鸠和卢梭产生了较大影响。

《论人类》分为“导言”、“论人类”、“论国家”和“论黑暗王国”四个章节。书中运用类比等多种方法说明了客观存在产生的原因、表现和实质，支持了启蒙运动所宣扬的思想，让人们对自然界中存在的事物有了更加理性的认识。其中闪烁的理性主义无论对当时还是现在都具有深远意义。

第一章“导言”中，作者首先提出了自己的观点：把国家比喻成人类创造的用于保护自身的机器人。

在第二章“论人类”中，分别对人类的感觉、想象、思维逻辑顺序、语言、幸福与痛苦进行了理性客观清晰的阐述。关于人类的感觉，霍布斯认为感觉是由于外在物体，或客体对每种感觉器官进行压迫产生的。霍布斯认为人类的想象是有限的，他把想象分为简单想象和复杂想象，并说明梦是人们睡眠时产生的想象。对神灵的想象和崇拜无益于社会的稳定，应该予以消除。人类的思维逻辑顺序分为无计划的不连续思维和受到约束的连续性思维，同时举例说明人类受约束的连续性思维和动物的受约束的连续性思维有何不同。霍布斯称语言为“最高贵最有益的发明”，接着阐述了语言带来的益处和坏处，名词的分类以及使用词语时需要慎重考虑，才能达到预期目的。关于运动的内在开始，霍布斯首先将动物的特有运动分为两种：生命运动和自主性运动，而想象是自主性运动的开始。当存在于想象中的微小运动——意向，开始倾向或远离产生的事物时，就是欲望（渴望）或厌恶。欲望（渴望）和厌恶是人与生俱来的，在两者之间的称为轻视。相同的情感，人们在具有不同的主观情感倾向时，会赋予不同甚至完全相反的名称，例如“人们认为能成功，那么欲望就称为希望；同理，认为不能成功，那么欲望就称为失望。”关于人类的幸福与痛苦，霍布斯提到了人类期望的平等，而当不平等出现时，就会因为竞争、猜疑和为争得荣誉发生争吵。当国家的权力无法震慑臣民时，和平就会消失，人人为战的战争状态就会出现。这样人们就会生活在痛苦之中。可以发现，霍布斯自始至终都在论述中加入了国家的作用，这也是霍布斯国家契约学说的一种体现。

在第三章“论国家”中，作者首先阐述了国家形成的原因、产生和过程。由于人类不同于蚂蚁和蜜蜂等政治动物（亚里士多德语），它们除了根据自己的判断和欲望引导之外，没有其他引导。而人类则不然，人类会为了利益、荣誉等等进行竞争，最终结果导致战争。而人类的目的是“要保全自己进而获得更满意的生活”，自然法则又没有足够的力量保证人类的安全。因此，为了保证人类的安全，就要“把他们所有的权利和力量赋予一个人格，或赋予一个集体，通过多数声音统一他们的意志” ，这样统一于一个人格的一群人就称之为国家。关于臣民的自由，霍布斯坚持臣民的自由是有条件的自由，是在遵守国家法规前提下的自由，霍布斯提到“主权是国家的灵魂”，臣民服从国家的目的是受到国家的保护。接着，霍布斯提出了六种削弱和危害国家安全存在的因素并一一进行批判，最终回到本节开始提出的观点“如果人们真能使用他们所认为拥有的理性，他们就能保证国家的安全，至少不被内部疾病而毁坏”。本章是霍布斯表述其国家契约观点最突出的章节，字里行间处处透露出国家契约的思想。

在第四章“论黑暗王国”中，霍布斯着重介绍了空虚哲学，并用大量例子证明空虚哲学的荒谬以及它们对公共国家带来的危害。霍布斯认为“休闲是哲学之母，而国家是和平与休闲之母”。在一个国家中，用个人的欲望作为衡量标准是错误的，个人的行为不能成为衡量标准，作为衡量标准的应是法律，即国家的意志和欲望。最后，霍布斯提到了十二种说法，将上述荒谬哲学带来的黑暗转化成自身利益并指出其本质予以批判。

本书篇幅不长，却处处闪烁着霍布斯理性和智慧的光芒。阅读是一种好的休息方式，阅读经典读物，能起到开拓视野，增长知识的作用，更能锻炼思维，培养独立思考能力，可谓一举多得。现在就让我们一同走进霍布斯的思想世界吧！

导言

自然是上帝创造并掌管世界的艺术，万物不同，道理相通，人类仿照上帝的艺术创造出一种人造动物。把生命仅仅看作是四肢运动，其源头是本身内部具有的一些主要部分，那么，我们为什么不能说，同手表一样，类似于通过弹簧和齿轮实现自我驱动的发动机的所有自动机器都拥有人造生命呢？它的“心脏”就是一个“弹簧”；“神经”则由许多“弹簧”构成；“关节”是许多“齿轮”，让整个身体运动起来，这就是创造者希望设计出来使整个身体可以活动的东西吗？艺术还要模仿拥有理智的人类——他们是自然的绝世之作。通过艺术，伟大的利维坦（LEVIATHAN）被创造出来，又叫联邦或国家，它们是人类，但仅仅是人造人类；保护和防卫能力是利维坦保护真实人类所需，因此其身高和力量远远大于真实人类；“主权”是“人造灵魂”，没有它，整个身体就如静止的尸骸；法官及其他司法官员构成“人造关节”；“褒奖”和“惩罚”（与主权地位相联结，每一个关节、身体每个部分都被调动起来行使职责）是“神经”，这和真实人体运转方式相同；社会中所有特别成员的“资产”和“财富”是力量；Salus Populi（人民安全）是其职业；顾问是利维坦需要的万事通，他们为利维坦提供建议，是“记忆”；“公平公正”和“法律”，是“人造理性”和“意志”；“和谐”是“健康”；“停滞”是“疾病”；“内战”是“死亡”。最后，组成身体政治的“条约”和“条款”结合，类似于上帝创造天地时宣布的“法令”，即“让我们创造人类吧”。

为了论述这个人造人类的本质，我将考虑如下问题：

第一，人造人类这一物质和创造者；两者都是人类。

第二，“条款”形成的原因以及达成的依据；一个主权国家的“权利”和“权力”（“权威”）是什么；保持政权和政权消亡的原因是什么。

第三，基督教共和国是什么。

第四，黑暗王国是什么。

关于第一点，最近有一种说法十分盛行：“智慧”不是通过“读书”获得的，而是通过解读认识“人类”获得的。由于绝大多数人不能给出拥有智慧的其他证据，因此这些人十分喜欢展示他们在解读认识人类上的收获，即在背后对他人进行无情的攻击指责。但也有另一种说法尚未被人所理解，按照这种说法，如果他们愿意不辞辛劳付出，就能真正学会解读理解他人，这就是Nosce teipsum，Read thy self（《诺斯克泰普撒姆，了解自己》）：其现在的意义是赞同宽恕国家或当权者对从属的残暴行为，抑或鼓励地位较低的人们对优于他们的人采取不恭行为。与上述意义不同，其原本意义是教育我们，一个人同另一个人具有相似的思想和感情，任何人在一种情境中进行“思考”、“判断”、“推理”、“希望”、“恐惧”等活动时，他们审视自身，考虑其所作所为，就应理解和知道他人在类似情境中拥有的类似思想和感情。我所说的相似感情，是为所有人共有的感情，包括“渴望”、“恐惧”、“希望”等等；而不是引起上述激情的物体，即让人产生“渴望”、“恐惧”、“希望”等情绪的物体：由于每个人的素质和受教育差别很大，且它们十分容易被排除在我们拥有的知识之外，以至于人类被玷污、困惑的内心，加上支离破碎、消亡、虚伪和错误的知识，让人们很难寻找人的内心世界，只有探索人内心世界的人才能了解。虽然我们有时能通过人们的行为发现他们的想法，然而不把他们同我们自身作比较、对所有情况进行区别，只以一个随时可能改变的事例为证，无异于没有钥匙而去开锁，由于过于信任或过于缺乏自信，大部分结论可能被蒙蔽欺骗。按照事例本身解读认识人类，他本人可能是好人也可能是坏人。

如果让一个人通过其他人不完美的行为解读他们，这些人只能是他为数不多的熟人。对于一个要治理整个国家的人，必须解读理解自己，不是某个个别的人，而是全人类：做到这一点虽然很困难，难于学习任何语言或科学；然而，当我制定好条理清晰的解读方式后，剩下的疑问只有他是否还不是那样的。因为这种知识不允许进行其他论证。

论人类

论感觉

关于人类思想，我打算先进行个别探讨，再依次或根据互相的依赖关系进行探讨。个别地说，每一种人类思想都是人类身体之外素质的某种“表现”或“现象”，它们通常被称为“客体”。一种客体作用于眼、耳和其他身体部分，加上工作方式的不同，就产生出多种多样的“现象”。

它们的根源，都是我们所说的感觉（最初人们思想中的概念完全或部分建立在未丧失功能的感觉器官上）。其他思想都是由这个根源衍生而来。

目前了解感觉的自然成因并不是十分必要，因为我在其他地方已经进行过详细论述。但是，为了充实目前我所采用方法的每个部分，我将在此对感觉的自然成因进行简要说明。

感觉源于对每种感觉器官进行压迫的外在物体，或客体。它们有的是直接的，例如味觉和触觉；有的是间接的，例如视觉、听觉和嗅觉：（在这些感觉中）压力通过神经和其他经脉或薄膜持续向内传导给大脑和心脏，进而引起一种阻力，或反压力、心脏努力传达自身状态。这种努力，由于是向外的，看上去似乎是外在的存在，而这种假象或幻觉就是人们所说的感觉。对于眼睛，这种假象或幻觉是光线，是具有形状的颜色；对耳朵来说，是声音；对鼻子来说，是气味；对舌头来说，是味道；对身体其他部分来说，是冷、热、软、硬和其他我们通过感觉分辨出的性质。所有这些可分辨感觉的性质都存在于引起它们的客体中，它们是对感觉器官施加各种压力的一些物质运动。在被施压的人体中，它们也仅仅是各种运动；（因为运动只能产生运动。）但它们的表象对我们来说，在梦境或现实中都是幻觉。正如按压、揉、击打眼睛会出现光的幻觉；按压耳朵会产生轰鸣声；我们看到、听到的物体也一样，它们产生我们观察不到的强烈运动，让我们产生同样的幻觉。因为如果这些颜色、声音都存在于体内或引起它们的客体之中，我们就不能采用镜子反光或回声的方式将它们与原本存在的真实物体区分开。我们知道自己看见的物体在一个地方，但其表象却在另一个地方。尽管原本存在的真实物体距离我们有一段距离，但它们似乎承载着在我们身上引起的幻觉。但客体终究是一回事，而影像或幻觉又是另一回事。因此，不论在何种情况下，感觉仅仅是源头上的幻觉，（正如我所说）这种幻觉是由外部事物带来的压力以及给我们眼、耳和其他感觉器官带来的运动造成的。

但是，基督教影响范围内所有大学中的哲学派，基于亚里士多德的文本，教授另一种知识；并说，视觉的成因是被看见的物体向四面八方发出可见个体，用英语讲，发出可见形状、异象、面貌或可见物体；眼睛接收的物体，就是看见。听觉的成因，就是被听见的物体向四面八方发出可听个体，即可听声音元素或能够被感知的可听物，它进入耳内，产生听觉。不但如此，他们说理解的成因是由于被理解的物体发出可理解元素，即能被感知的可理解存在，它进入我们负责理解的器官，产生理解。我这样说并不是否定大学的作用，而是因为我在后面要谈到它对国家的作用。因此借此机会我必须让你们对所有情况都有所了解，它们中间有什么是应该修订改良的，其中之一就是经常性的毫无意义的谈话演说。

论想象

一个物体保持静止时，除非有什么东西扰乱它，它将会一直保持静止，这是一个没有人怀疑的真理。但是一个运动中的物体，除非有什么东西让它停下，否则它将一直运动下去，虽然理由同上（即：事物不能改变自身），这一点却让人不能轻易赞同。因为人们不仅依据自身衡量他人，还衡量所有其他事物。人们发现自己运动过后会疼痛和懒怠，就认为其他人和事物在运动过后也会厌倦并停下休息。人们很少考虑到，他们自身渴望休息的想法是否存在于其他一些运动中。由此，经院学派称，重物不知疲倦地下落，是期望在找到最适合它们的状态时休息，这样就把欲望和如何最好地保存自身的知识（比人类拥有的还多）荒谬地归于无生命物体了。

一个物体一旦运动起来，（除非有什么东西干扰它）它将永恒运动下去；并且干扰它运动的东西，不可能在瞬间让运动物体停止，而是需要一段时间，逐渐地让它停止：正如我们所见，尽管风停止了，水面的波纹却不会马上消失；同理，运动也是如此，它是人类内部固有的部分。当人们看见东西或做梦时，当物体被除去或闭眼时，我们仍然保有所见事物的图像，尽管这个图像没有我们看见时那么清晰。这就是拉丁人所说的想象，来源于我们所见事物的图像。并将它运用于其他感觉中，尽管并不合适。但希腊人称之为幻觉，意思是假象，将它置于任何感觉上都合适。因此，想象就是逐渐衰退消失的感觉，不论在睡眠中或清醒状态下，不仅人类有感觉，其他很多动物也拥有感觉。

人在清醒时感觉的逐渐衰退消失并不是感觉运动的衰退消失，而是模糊，正如太阳光黯淡了星光一样，事实上星星在白天依然如夜晚一样发光；但是由于受到许多干扰，我们的眼睛、耳朵和其他器官只能感受到最强烈的物体；因此，太阳光最为强烈时，我们就感觉不到星星的亮光。任何从我们视线中移除的物体，尽管它们带给我们的印象依然存在，但其他客体相继不断出现并给我们留下印象，过去的想象就会模糊减弱，如同白天各种噪音中人的声音会相对减弱一样。看到某事物或感觉到某事物后，相隔时间越长，想象就越弱。由于人体不断发生变化，会破坏移除感觉中的某些部分，因此时间和空间的距离对我们具有相同效果：当我们看远处某个地方时，事物看上去很模糊，不能分辨出事物的较小部分。就像声音逐渐减弱，逐渐变模糊一样。同理，随着时间的流逝，我们对遥远过去的想象变弱，我们对（例如）之前所见的城市、许多街道、活动以及很多具体情境的印象都会消失。这种逐渐衰退消失的感觉，当我们表述事物本身时，（我是指幻觉本身，）正如我之前所说，我们叫它想象。但当我们表述衰退消失本身，即感觉的衰退、老化和成为过去时，这就称为记忆。因此，想象和记忆是一种东西，只是由于考虑不同，名称不同罢了。

这种记忆，或许多事情的记忆就称为经验。同样，想象也只是之前由感觉一次或几次感受到的事物。前者（基于感觉所呈现的对整个客体的想象）称为简单想象，例如一个人想象他之前看见过的一个人或一匹马。另外一种是复杂想象，例如在不同时间分别看见一个人和一匹马，之后我们在大脑中构想出一个全新生物。因此，当一个人把自己个人映像同另一个人行动映像结合，比如一个人把自己想象为赫拉克勒斯或亚历山大（对于喜欢读罗马神话的人来说，他们常会这么想），这就是一个复杂想象，恰当地说是头脑的虚构。尽管人们处于清醒状态，他们从感觉中留下的深刻印象里还会产生其他种类的想象，就像人们注视太阳后，在很长一段时间内，太阳的形象会一直给我们留下深刻印象；再如长时间专注于几何图形，一个人在黑暗中（尽管仍然清醒），眼前仍会出现（几何图形中）线和角的图像。由于人们不常讨论这种情况，因此这种幻觉就没有特定名称。

睡眠中的想象称之为梦。这些（和其他所有想象一样）在之前就完全或部分存在于感觉中。由于感觉中大脑、神经等必要的感觉器官在睡眠中处于麻木状态，进而它们不容易因外界客体活动而变动，因此除去人身体内部产生的搅动，在睡眠中可能没有想象，也就没有梦。人体内部一些部分由于同大脑和其他器官有联系，当它们被扰乱时，也会引起相同的运动，因此过去形成的想象就会像人在清醒时一样出现。由于感觉器官现在处于麻木状态，没有新客体能以更强烈的印象控制并模糊过去的印象，因此相对于我们清醒时的思考，在感觉处于沉静状态时，梦就更加清晰。如此这样，很难将梦与感觉区分开，许多人认为不可能将梦与感觉严格地区分开来。就个人而言，我在梦中并不常思考我清醒时思考的人、地点、事物和行动的问题；我在梦中也不会像在其他时间一样记起一串连续的思想。因为我清醒时常常发现梦的荒谬，但从未在梦中发现自己清醒时思想的荒谬，虽然在梦中我认为自己处于清醒状态，但我对自己清醒时知道自己没有做梦这一点感到十分满意。

由于梦是身体内部某些部分紊乱引起的，体内不同紊乱肯定会引起不同梦境。因此，睡觉着凉就会做噩梦，脑海中出现一些可怕事物的想法和映像（由大脑向内部的运动和由内部向大脑的运动是相互的）：正如我们在清醒时，愤怒会使身体某些部分发热一样，我们在睡觉时，身体某些部分过热也会导致愤怒。同理，我们清醒时，人类生来具有的情爱会引起欲望，欲望会使身体某些部分发热；而当我们睡眠时，这些部分过热会使大脑中出现曾经出现过的情爱想象。总之，我们的梦是清醒时想象的颠倒。我们清醒时由一端开始的运动，在梦中则从另一端开始。

人类梦境与清醒时的思想最难区分的莫过于有时我们在没有察觉的情况下入睡：充满恐惧思想的人尤其容易这样，良心受到谴责的人也是如此，他们往往没有上床或没有脱衣就睡着了，就像坐在椅子上小憩一样。由于他难以入睡却要强迫自己睡觉，任何离奇和幻想都会轻易被认为是梦境。我们知道马库斯·布鲁图斯[1]（尤利乌斯·恺撒挽救了他的生命而且十分喜爱他，但最后被马库斯·布鲁图斯谋杀）在腓力[2]与尤利乌斯·恺撒决斗的前夜，看见了令人恐惧的魂灵，历史学家一般称之为灵魂现身：但考虑到当时的情景，很容易做出判断他看见的仅仅是一个短暂的梦。因为马库斯·布鲁图斯正坐在帐篷里沉思，被自己鲁莽行为的恐惧所困扰；在寒冷中刚刚入睡的马库斯·布鲁图斯，很容易梦见最让他害怕的事。这种恐惧会渐渐让他清醒，与此同时魂灵也会渐渐消失。由于不确定自己是否睡着了，他就不会认为这是梦或其他事，而是灵魂现身。类似事情并不少见：那些胆小迷信的人，即使他们在十分清醒的状态下，听到令人恐惧的故事或独处黑暗时，都会出现幻觉，认为他们看见了灵魂和在墓地行走的死人鬼魂。而这仅仅是他们的幻觉，要不就是一些江湖流氓，利用迷信恐惧，伪装好自己在黑暗中行动，去那些他们不会被发现的地方。

在过去，崇拜宗教中萨提洛斯牧羊神、林神、仙女等神仙的人，就是因为缺乏将梦境和强烈幻觉同视觉和感觉区分开来的能力。如今，很多无知的人对神仙、鬼怪、妖精、女巫的观点也是如此。对于女巫，我认为她们的巫术没有任何实际力量，并且认为她们的错误信念、胡作非为以及她们的不良动机，受到惩罚才是正确的。她们的勾当接近一种新宗教，而不是一种技术或知识。对于神仙和鬼怪，我认为人们在故意教授关于神仙和鬼怪的看法，并且对这些看法采取不驳斥的态度，以此确保符咒驱魔、十字架、圣水和用心险恶者类似发明的作用。然而，毋庸置疑，上帝能产生灵异景象。但是上帝经常停滞或改变自然规律（上帝可以停滞或改变自然规律）以致人们对其充满恐惧，并不是基督教信仰所宣传的内容。但是邪恶小人会大胆以“上帝会做任何事”为借口，来达到他们自己的目的，尽管他们认为这个借口纯属捏造。聪明的人只会相信其所说内容中可信的部分，而不盲目相信。如果能够消除对神灵的迷信恐惧，以及梦境预测、虚假语言和邪恶小人依此制造出的许多其他愚弄善良人民的东西，人们就会比现在更加遵守社会约定。

这应该是经院学派的工作，但他们却支持那些歪理邪说。由于他们不知道什么是想象和感觉，他们只机械地将自己所学传授给他人：一些人说想象由己而生，并无本源；其他一些人说想象大多是由意志力产生的；上帝将善念吹入（灌输进）人体；恶念则由魔鬼吹入人体；或者说，善念是上帝注入（灌输进）人体内的，而恶念则是由魔鬼注入人体内的。一些人说感觉接收个体事物，并将它们传递给一般意识，一般意识又将它们传递给幻觉，幻觉又将它们传递给记忆，记忆传递给判断，就像用一双双手把东西传递下去，他们说了很多话，但没有人听懂。

在人类（或其他具有想象能力的生物）中通过语言或其他意识符号引起的想象往往称为理解：人和兽类都具有理解能力。经过训练的狗能理解主人的召唤或训斥，其他许多兽类也是如此。人类所特有的理解并不仅仅是理解讲话人的意志，而是通过事物名称的顺序和结构关系形成的肯定、否定和其他语言形式理解讲话人的概念和思想。我将在下面谈到这种理解。

论想象的逻辑顺序或系列

为了与语言话语相区别，我将称为心理话语的一系列连贯思想理解为思维的顺序或系列。

当一个人思考任何一件事时，他随后产生的思想并不是看上去那么偶然。思想之间的联系并不是随便的。正如最初我们完全没有或没有全部感觉，因此我们没有想象力，以至于我们的感觉中没有出现过渡，这样我们拥有的多个想象之间也就没有过渡。所有幻觉都是我们体内的运动，是感觉中产生的残留物。在感觉中，这些运动紧密地联系在一起，在感觉之后这些运动仍然继续，前一运动再次出现并占据统治地位，后一运动则随着运动的连贯发展产生，如同水平桌面上的水，用手指引导水的任何部分，水都会顺着手指引导的方向流去。但是由于在感觉中，一个或同一个被感知事物有时被一种事物连接，有时被另一种事物连接。随着时间的流逝，可能我们想象一种事物时，不确定我们下一步将想象什么事物；只有一件事是肯定的，那就是这个事物与之前某事相连并在其后发生。

这种思维系列，或者称为心理话语有两种：一种是无指引、无计划、不连续的。这种思维系列中，没有充满激情的思维控制或指引后续思维，也没有充满激情的思维限定或终止某些欲望或激情的范围。在这种情况下，思维处于游荡状态，就像梦境一样，各个思维之间毫无关联。独处的人或对任何事情漠不关心的人一般都是这种思维。虽然他们的思维可能与其他时间一样忙碌，但却不和谐。就如一个人弹奏琵琶跑调产生的声音，或一个不会弹奏的人弹奏琵琶产生的声音。即使在思维漫无边际地游荡时，一个人也能感觉到思维的路数以及思维之间互相依赖的关系。在讨论目前的内战时，还有什么比问（曾经一个人这么问过）一个罗马银币价值几何更不切题的呢？但对我来说其中的联系表现得十分充分。因为对战争的思维引起把国王交付给敌人的思维，这种思维又引起献上基督教的思维，这样作为叛变价值的三十个银币的思维就再次出现。这样出现上面提到的恶意问题就很容易了，由于思维速度很快，所有这些都是在一瞬间完成的。

第二种思维，由于受到某些欲望和计划的约束而更加连贯。由于我们渴望、恐惧的事物给我们留下的印象深刻长久， （如果一时中断，）也会迅速恢复。这种印象是如此深刻，以至于妨碍和打断了我们的睡眠。因为欲望，我们就能想到之前见过的能达到我们目的的类似方法，由这种方法，又会想到获得这种方法的方法，由此下去，直至我们发现依靠自身能达到的出发点为止。由于目的留给我们深刻印象，它就会常常出现在脑海中，当我们的思维开始游荡时，很快又会被拉回正轨。古希腊七贤中的一个人发现了这个问题，他针对这一问题给人们提出了做事应考虑后果的箴言，但现在已经过时了。这就是说，不论做什么事，要经常看到你将拥有的东西，以此作为你在获得它的过程中所有思维的指导。

约束思维系列有两种。第一种，对于想象结果，我们会寻找原因或导致这一结果的方法的思维系列，这是人类和兽类共有的。另一种是，在想象任何事时，我们会寻找所有可能产生的结果的思维系列。这就是说，在我们拥有这种结果后，我们想象我们可以如何处理它的思维系列。这一点仅仅存在于人身上，我在任何时间都没有在其他物种身上发现任何有关迹象。因为在仅仅具有肉欲感官激情的生物很难发现这种好奇心，它们只有饥饿、干渴、情欲和愤怒的感觉。总之，当心理话语受到计划的控制时，就仅仅具有寻找或发明的功能，拉丁语称为聪慧或洞察力。这就是寻找一些事物现在和过去的结果的原因，或寻找事物现在和过去的原因的结果。有时一个人会寻找他失去的东西，他的思维从丢失东西的地点和时间开始回溯，从一个地方到另一个地方，从一个时间段到另一个时间段，直到他寻找到何时何地他拥有这件东西为止。也就是说，找到一个确定有限的时间段和范围作为寻找的开始。他的思想便从此开始，回到相同地点、相同时间，找出究竟是什么行为、什么场合可能使他丢了东西。这就是我们所说的记忆或唤回记忆。拉丁语称之为回忆，因为它的功能是重现我们之前的行为。

有时一个人知道一个确定的地方，他就在这一界限内寻找。接着他的思维会扫过所有区域，就像一个人清扫房间寻找珠宝一样，就像史宾格猎犬搜寻整个场地，直到找出一丝踪迹，或者像一个人反复查找字母表，要找出韵脚一样。

有时候人们想知道一个行动的后果，然后他会回忆之前类似的行动，以及类似行动接连产生的后果。就像预测谁将成为罪犯一样，他会寻找过去类似犯罪产生了何种后果，他的思维顺序是这样的：犯罪、警察、监狱、法官和绞刑架。这种思维称为预见、谨慎推测或神意，有时称为智慧。由于很难观察到所有情况，这种推测就十分荒谬。但可以肯定的是：一个人比另一个人对过去事情的经验更丰富，他也就比另一个人更谨慎几分，他谨慎多几分，所预见的成功概率就大几分。当下的事物仅在现实自然中存在，过去的事物仅存在于记忆中，但未来发生的事却根本不存在。未来的事物仅仅是人们根据过去行为和现在行为顺延在头脑中产生的想象。经验越多的人，推测准确性越高，但不能完全肯定。虽然我们称之为谨慎推测，当事实回答了我们做出的预测时，从本质上说它还是推测设想。对未来事物的预见，即神意，只属于那些能决定未来事物的人，只有通过他超自然的力量进行预言。最好的预言家自然是最佳推测者，最佳推测者对其推测事物最为精通且进行的研究最多：因为他拥有最多用于推测的迹象。

然而，人与兽的区别不在于谨慎推测。有些一岁大的兽类在获取它们所需时所观察的比十岁孩子更多，也比十岁孩子更谨慎。

由于谨慎推测是根据过去的经验预测未来，同理，有一种通过过去的过去（而不是未来）发生的事来预测过去。如果一个人见证了繁荣国家如何一步步陷入内战，最终沦为废墟，那么当他看见其他城市的废墟时，也会猜想发生在自己国家的类似战争以及一步步陷入内战走向灭亡的过程。但是这种推测猜想同对未来的推测猜想几乎一样具有不确定性，因为两种推测猜想都仅仅建立在经验的基础之上。

在我的记忆中，除了出生以及依靠五官生活，再没有其他人类生而具有的思维活动了。我接下来要讲的其他能力，似乎都仅仅为人类所特有，都是通过学习和努力获得并取得进步的；大多数人都是通过指导和训练而学习到的，并且这些都发生在文字和语言产生之后。除了感觉、思维和思维系列，人类大脑再无其他活动。虽然在语言和培养方法的帮助下，这些能力可以提高到一个新高度，使人类同其他生物具有本质区别，但人类大脑也仅具有以上三种活动。

我们想象的一切都是有限的。因此我们对任何称为无限的事物都没有观念或概念。任何人心中都不可能有一幅无限广大的映像，也不能想象出无限的迅捷、无限的时间、无限的外力或无限的力量。当我们用“无限”一词形容事物时，仅意味着我们不能想象到其尽头及命名事物的范围。我们对无限的事物没有概念，只知道我们自身有限的能力。因此创造上帝之名，并不是让我们去想象他，（因为他是不可能被我们理解的，他的伟大和力量也超出我们的想象；）我们能做的就是崇敬上帝。同时，由于我们想象的一切（正如我之前所说），都是首先通过感觉一次性全部或部分地感知到的，一个人不会有代表未经感官感知事物的思想。因此没有人能想象一切，在想象时，他必须将想象置于一个环境中，并拥有确定范围，此范围又能分为多个部分，我们不能想象事物都在一个地方，或同时都存在于另一个地方，我们也不能想象两个或更多事物同时存在于一个地方。因为这些事物没有一件存在过并被感觉所感知，它们只是利用信任（没有任何重要性）从受骗哲学家、受骗或行骗的经院学派人员那里得到的荒谬言论。

论语言

虽然印刷术是天才的发明，但同文字的发明相比，则黯然失色，究竟是谁第一个发现文字的用法却不得而知。最初把文字传入希腊的人是卡德摩斯，他是腓尼基国王阿格诺尔的儿子。文字是用来交流过去记忆、沟通联系四散分布在地球上人类的有利发明。文字的发明历经所有困难，它是通过对舌头、软腭、嘴唇和其他语言器官的观察而发明出许多不同字形以让人们记忆的。但是最高贵最有益的发明是语言，它是由名词或名称以及连词组成的。通过这些，人类可以记录他们的思维，供日后进行回忆使用，并且可以互相表达，进行交流。如果没有语言，人类就没有国家、社会、契约以及和平，这和狮子、熊和豺狼的生活别无两样。语言的第一个创造者就是上帝，上帝把所有事物放在亚当面前，指导亚当给这些事物命名。这件事《圣经》里再没有多提。但是这些指导足够让亚当在同这些生物接触过程中按其所需对更多事物进行命名，把它们加入其中，使自己能够被理解。随着时间的流逝，亚当发现需要使用的语言越来越多，语言也就逐渐丰富了，尽管没有演说家或哲学家所需要的那么丰富。由于我在《圣经》中没有直接或间接整合出信息说明亚当学习了所有图形、数字、度量、颜色、声音、幻觉和关系的名称，更没有学习例如普遍、特殊、肯定、否定、疑问、祈愿、无限等有用之词，因此更不用说实体、意图、本质和其他经院学派所用的毫无意义之词了。

但是亚当和他的后代获得并发展的所有语言还是在巴别塔丢失了，上帝之手让所有人都为叛变付出了遗忘之前所用语言的代价。人们因此被迫流亡到世界各地，所以现在各地语言的差异是现实需要（所有发明之母）教给他们的，并随着时间不断得到丰富。

语言最通常的作用是将我们的心理话语转化为口头语言，或把我们的思维系列转化为语言系列，这有两种好处，一是记录我们的思维顺序。由于这种思维顺序容易被遗忘，而要我们从头进行工作，但通过做记号的文字就能够重新回忆起来。因此，名字的第一个用途就是做记号，或者说为记忆做标记。第二种好处是，许多人使用相同文字（通过连词和顺序）向他人表达他们对每个事物的想象或考虑，以及他们渴望、恐惧或充满激情的事物。由于有此作用，它们被称为符号。语言的特殊作用如下：第一，通过仔细思考发现当下或过去事物的原因，以及当下或过去事物可能产生的结果。总而言之，就是习得艺术。第二，向他人展示我们所学到的知识，即讨论和互相教育。第三，让他人知晓我们的意志和目的，这样我们可以互相帮助。第四，单纯以娱乐和浮夸为目的，用自己的语言娱乐自己和他人。

与这些用处相对应的是四种滥用。第一，用词含义不固定，表达的思想有误。他们用这些文字把自己未曾想象过的东西表达为他们的概念，因此使自己受到误导。第二，用隐喻的方式运用文字，就是说，他们使用的意义与文字本身意义不同。因此蒙蔽了他人。第三，用文字宣称并非自己意愿的意愿。第四，运用文字攻击他人，大自然用牙齿、角和手武装一些动物，攻击敌人，而滥用语言则是用舌头攻击他人，除非是那些统治者，否则这就不是攻击，而是改正和改良。

语言之所以能够重现因果顺序的记忆，是靠了名称和连词。

关于名词，有一些是专有的，仅特指一个事物，例如Peter（彼得）、John（约翰）、This man（这个男人）、Horse（马）、Tree（树）；虽然每个都仅是一个名词，但仍是许多种事物的名称，所有这些加在一起就是普遍。世界上除了名词别无普遍，对于每种命名的事物，它们每个都是个体和单独体。

有一个普遍名词可以用在许多事物上，这是因为它们在某些性质或其他事件上相似。一个专有名词只会让我们想起一种事物，而普遍名词则让我们想起许多事物中的任何一个。

对于普遍名词，有一些所指范围较广，有一些所指范围较窄。范围较广的包含范围较窄的名词，而有些名词所指范围相同，则意义可相互包含。例如，名词Body（身体）就比词语Man（人）所指范围要广，因此包含后者；名词Man（人）和Rationall（理性）两者所指范围相同，可相互包含。但在此我们必须注意，和语法中不同，这里一个名词不能仅仅理解为一个词语，而是有时将很多词语组合到一起迂回表达。因为“他在行为上遵守他们国家的法律”这句话中所有词语可用一个名词代替，即公正。

具有所指范围的名词，有的所指范围较大，有的较小，我们就把心中所想象事物的顺序评定转化为对名词顺序的评定。比如，一个完全不会使用语言的人（生来就是聋哑人，）如果在他面前放一个三角形，并在三角形旁放两个直角（正如正方形的两个角，）他可能会通过沉思比较，发现三角形的三个角等于旁边的两个直角。但如果在他面前的三角形旁放置一个不同形状的三角形，他就不得不重新思考，到底新三角形的三个角是否也与原来三角形的三个角相等。但是如果他会使用语言，在观察时，他发现结论与三角形边长和其他特性无关，仅仅是因为边是直的且有三个角，正因如此，他才叫这个图形为三角形。他就会总结出一个普遍结论：所有三角形中这种角都相等；然后他会用普遍词语记录下他的发现：“每个三角形的三角之和等于两个直角。”于是由一个事例引起的发现就会被作为一条普遍原则记录和记忆，我们的大脑只需在第一次时思考，以后便不需思考时间和地点，节省了我们的脑力劳动，使我们在彼时彼地的发现适用于任何时间及地点。

然而用来记录我们思想的文字再没有比计数更明显的了。天生的傻瓜永远学不会数字的顺序，如1、2、3，那么他就可能在时钟每敲一下时点一下头，说：一下，一下，一下，但他永远不会知道当时是几点钟。似乎曾经有一段时期并没有使用数字的名称，对于人们想计数的事物，就只能用一只手或双手的手指进行计数。随着这种计数方式的使用，任何国家的计数数字名称只有十个，有的国家只有五个，当计满五个或十个时，就重新开始。一个能数到十的人，如果不按照顺序背诵，就会糊涂，不知道自己什么时候数完，更不会运用加、减或其他运算。因此，没有词语就不会有数字计数，也就更不可能有量级、速度、外力和其他人类生存所必需的计算。

当两个词语按顺序组合，就成为断言，例如“人类是一种生物”，或“如果他是个人，他就是一个生物”，如果后面的词语“生物”包含前面词语“人”的所有所指意义，这个顺序就是真实的，否则就是虚假的。因为真实和虚假只是语言而不是事物的属性。没有语言就没有真实或虚假。错误可能存在，例如我们预期这件事不会发生或怀疑事情不是如此，但在以上两种情况下我们都不能用不真实这个词语形容人。

由于真实是由我们断言中词语按照严格的排列顺序形成的，因此一个追寻严格意义上真实的人就不得不记住他所用的每一个词语代表什么，然后各安其位，否则他就会发现自己陷入词语的迷阵之中，就像一只被鸟胶粘住的鸟，越挣扎，粘得越紧。因此在几何学里（这是上帝乐意赐给人类的唯一科学），人们开始确定各种词语的意义，他们称这种确定意义的过程为定义，并将它们置于计算的开始。

通过这一点就能看出，检查先前作者下的定义对渴求真正知识的人来说是多么必要，如果定义是存心疏忽大意所下或是由他自己所下，那就要改正。因为随着计算的进行，由错误定义造成的错误会不断增加，进而导致人们最后得出荒谬的结果，但只有他们从头开始计算才能改正错误，因为错误的源头存在于计算之初。于是就会出现这种情况，那些过分相信书本的人会把许多小数字相加得出较大数字，从不考虑这些小数字是否是经过精确计算得出的，最后发现明显的错误，但他们不会怀疑他们最初的基础，不知道怎样才能让自己明白错误的原因，而是花时间胡乱翻阅书本，就像一只从烟囱飞进去的鸟发现自己被困在一个房间里，朝着透光的玻璃窗乱飞，企图弄清自己是怎样进来的，而透光的玻璃窗只是一种假象。因此，语言的第一作用是对词语进行正确定义，这是一个科学收获；而语言滥用则是错误定义或无定义的原因，进而产生所有虚假和无意义的原则。这就让那些从书本权威中而不是通过自己思考获得指导的人变得比无知更加无知，真正有科学知识的人比无知者聪明多少，那些人就比无知的人无知几分。无知处于真正科学和错误教条之间。自然感觉和想象是不属于荒谬的。自然本身不会犯错：由于人们掌握了丰富的语言，他们就变得比一般人更聪明或更疯癫。而任何没有文化的人则既不会变得绝顶聪明，也不会变得出奇的傻（除非他的记忆由于疾病或器官损伤而受到伤害）。词语是聪明人的计数器，他们用它来计算；但词语却是愚蠢人的金钱，他们根据亚里士多德、西塞罗、托马斯或任何一个博学之人——只要他是个人——的权威来给它们进行估价。

只要可以进入或进行计算，可以相加成和、相减为差的所有事物都可以构成名词。拉丁人把金钱账本称为理由，把计算称为推理，我们在票据或账本中称为项目的，他们称名目，即名词。自此，他们把理性一词的含义进行推广，成为对所有事物的计算。希腊人对语言和推理只有一个词——逻各斯。并不是他们认为没有推理就没有语言，而是认为没有语言就没有推理。他们称推理的活动为三段论方法，就是人们之间话语顺序的总结。由于同一事物可能因为许多偶然进入计算，它们的名词（为了表现多样性）就会有偏离意义和各种变化。这种名词的变化可归为四大类：

第一，一个事物可能由于物质或物体加入思考，如有生命的、有感觉的、有理性的、热的、冷的、移动的、静止的。物质或物体这样的词语就是通过它们被理解的。以上所有这类名词，都是物质的名词。

第二，事物可能因为我们推测其存在于自身内部的偶然性或性质加以思考或考虑，例如被移动、如此的长、是热的等等。因此，若指代事物本身的名词有丝毫改变或扭曲，我们就会将其纳入我们考虑的偶然性名词之中。对于“活着的”，我们将“生命”纳入偶然性考虑；“被移动的”，我们将“运动”列入偶然性考虑；相似地，“热的”，将“热”列入考虑；“长的”，将“长度”列入考虑等等。所有这些名词都是一种物质或物体区别于其他事物的偶然性和特性的名词。这些名词被称为抽象名词，因为它们（不是来自物质，而是）来自对物质的思考。

第三，我们将可以自己做出区别判断的身体上的属性纳入思考。当我们看见任何事物时，考虑的不是事物本身，而是其幻觉中的视觉、颜色或观念。当我们听见任何事物的声音时，我们考虑的不是事物本身，而是我们耳朵收到的幻觉或概念，即听觉或声音，这些都是虚幻名词。

第四，我们会把名词本身和语言纳入思考，并给它们以名称。因为一般的、普遍的、特殊的、模棱两可的都是名词的名词。断言、疑问、命令、叙述、三段论、说教、演讲和其他之类的都是语言的名词。这些就是所有表示肯定的名词，用来表示自然界中本身就存在的事物，以及由人类大脑臆造出的事物或想象出的事物；或者对物体而言，本身具有或捏造出的属性；又或词语和语言。

还有一些名词称为否定名词，是表示某个词语不是所提事物名称的记号。例如不存在、无人、无限、不可教、不可能等类似词语，尽管它们不是任何事物的名词，但由于它们能让我们拒绝使用错误的名词，它们在计算、更正计算以及回忆过去认知方面具有作用。

其他一切名词都不过是无足轻重的声音，它们可以归为两类：第一类，是意义还未经定义解释的新词，经院学者和困惑的哲学家们造出了大量类似名词。

第二类，人们把两个意义矛盾的名词合成一个名词，如无影无形的物体或（都是一个意思）无影无形的存在，这类名词还有许多。当所有断言确认为虚假时，断言的两个名词便组合在一起成为一个名词，而新名词没有所指。例如，假设“四角形是圆的”是一个虚假断言，那么“圆四角形”这一名词便没有所指，而仅仅是一个声音。同理，如果说美德可以被注入能量或吹上吹下这个断言是虚假的，那么“注入能量的美德”、“吹起来的美德”都是荒谬且毫无意义的，就如“圆四角形”一样。因此，我们所见到的毫无意义的词语基本都是由一些拉丁或希腊名词构成的。一个法国人几乎不会听到别人称我们的救世主为Parole，而经常听到Verbe。并且Verbe和Parole两个词没有区别，只不过一个是拉丁语，一个是法语。

当一个人听到任何含有这些思想和连词的一句话，且能够表达思想时，那么就说他理解了这句话。理解即语言引起的概念，除此之外什么都不是。因此，如果语言为人类所特有（就我所知即是如此），那么理解也就为人类所特有。因此对于荒谬和虚假的断言，如果它们是普遍的，那么便不存在理解的问题。虽然许多人自认为他们理解了，但其实他们仅仅是在重复那些词语或在大脑中背诵罢了。

表达人类心理欲望、反感和激情的语言，以及它们的使用和滥用，我将在谈激情时再说。

影响我们感情的这些事物的名词，即让我们愉悦或不快的事物的名词，由于同一事物对每个人产生的影响不同，也不可能在所有时间对同一个人产生同样影响，因此人们进行的一般性交谈中，就具有不确定的意义。由于所有名词都是用作表示概念的词语，而我们所有的感情也仅仅是概念，当我们对同一事物具有不同感受时，我们就不可避免地赋予它们不同名称。尽管我们感受的实质是相同的，但由于物体构造不同以及在意见上存有偏见，我们在接受时就有差异，因此由于我们每个人有不同激情，所有事物都带个人色彩，所以，一个人在推理论证时，必须对词语加以注意，因为词语除了具有我们想象其自身具有的本质意义，还有说话人本质、特质和兴趣所带有的意义，美德和邪恶等名词就是如此。对同一事物，一个人称之为恐惧，而另一个人称之为智慧；一个人称之为残忍，而另一个人称之为正义；一个人称之为铺张浪费，另一个人称之为慷慨；一个人称之为庄重，另一个人称之为愚蠢等等。因此这类名词永远不能当作任何推理的真实根据，比喻和隐喻也是如此。但是比喻和隐喻的危害较小，因为它们已经宣称它们不具有固定意义，而其他则没有公开说明。

论自主性运动的内在开始（一般称为激情）及表达内在开始的语言

动物特有的两种运动：一种称为生命运动，这种运动从出生开始，一生中保持运动从不间断，比如：血液、脉搏、呼吸、消化、营养、排泄等等。这些运动不需要想象的帮助。另一种运动是动物运动，又称为自主性运动，比如以我们最初大脑中想象的方式行走、说话、移动四肢。感觉是在人体器官和身体内部的运动，这种运动由我们所见、所闻的事物引起。幻觉即是造成感觉的相同运动的遗迹，只是幻觉的发生晚于感觉。这一点已经在第1章和第2章中讲到过。由于行走、说话等类似自主性运动取决于之前关于“去哪里”、“走哪条路”、“如何说”等想法，所以很明显，想象便是所有自主性运动的最初内在开始。尽管无知者想象不出那里存在任何运动，且被移动的事物不可见或其运动空间太小而感觉不到，但这些并不能阻止运动的发生。因为不论运动的空间多小，它仍然是其运动较大空间的一部分，且必须首先经过这一部分的运动（才能完成较大空间的运动）。在他们开始行走、说话、击打及其他可见行为之前，人体中开始的这种微小运动一般称为意向。

当这种意向倾向于产生它的事物时，就称为欲望或渴望。后者是一般名词，而前者则常指对食物的欲望，称为饥和渴。当事物离开某事物时，一般称为厌恶。欲望和厌恶两词来自拉丁语，都指运动，一个是接近，一个是远离。因此希腊文的这两个词和也分别是接近和远离的意思。自然本身的确常常给人们许多真理，当人们后来寻找某种超自然事物时，他们就会被这些真理绊倒。经院学派在行走或移动的欲望中完全没有发现实际运动，但由于他们必须承认某种运动，于是就称之为隐喻性的运动。这是一种荒谬的言论，因为即使词语可以称作是隐喻性的，但物体和运动却不能。

人们欲望想要得到的东西也是他们的所爱，讨厌的东西即是他们的所憎。因此欲望和爱是相同的，只是谈到欲望，我们常指客体不存在的情况，而爱则是客体存在的情况。同理，我们说憎恶时，即客体不存在的情况，而讨厌，则是客体存在的情况。

人生来就具有欲望和厌恶，例如对食物、排泄和免除的欲望（从他们体内的感觉来说，也可以更恰当地称之为厌恶；）和一些其他不多的欲望。剩下的就是对某些事物的欲望，这是由他们的经验及自身和他人实践所获得的。对于我们完全不知道或不相信的事物，除了尝试，我们不会有更多欲望。但是我们对事物的厌恶，则不仅仅是针对伤害我们的事物，不知道是否对我们构成伤害的事物也会成为我们厌恶的对象。

那些我们既没有欲望，也不厌恶的事物称之为轻视，轻视即是内心对某种事物行动的抵触或无动于衷和不服从。由于进行上述思考，内心已经被其他有力客体所移动，抑或是想从事物中获取经验。

由于人体构造在不断变化，同一件事不可能永远让一个人产生相同的欲望和厌恶，几乎没有人可以肯定他们对同一事物一直保持相同欲望。

任何人的欲望或渴望的客体对他来说都可以称为善，他所讨厌或厌恶的客体称为恶，他所轻视的对象称为无价值或不值一提。善、恶、轻视这些词语一直都与使用这些词的人有关，世间不存在单纯绝对的事物，也不可能从客体本身属性中得到任何普遍的善恶标准。这种标准只能从自己（没有国家的情况下）、代表国家的人（有国家的情况下）、仲裁人员或法官那里得出，他们不一致的地方应得到调解处理，仲裁人员或法官的裁决就成为标准。

拉丁语有两个词语的意思接近善与恶，但不完全相同，这两个词就是美与丑。前者所指的是具有明显善的迹象的事物，后者所指的则是恶。但是在我们的语言中没有概括性词语表达它们。对于一些美的事物，我们称之为仙女般的柔美，其他一些事物则用美丽、英俊、强壮、可敬、动人或可爱来表达；对于丑的事物，我们用邪恶、畸形、丑陋、卑鄙下流、龌龊及其他针对事物本身可用之词。所有词语在恰当的地方不指别的，而指显示善恶的表象。因此善有三种：一种是期望中的善，即美；一种是结果上的善，如所期望的结果，称之为愉悦、高兴；一种是方式上的善，称之为有效、有利。至于恶也有三种：一种是期望中的恶，称之为丑；一种是结果目的上的恶，称之为麻烦、不愉快、烦恼；另一种方式上的恶，称之为无益、无利或有害。

正如我之前所说，感觉中真正存在我们体内的只有外部客体引起的运动。从外表视觉上看，表现为光和颜色，从听觉上，表现为声音，从嗅觉上，表现为香气等等。因此，当同一客体的运动持续不断地通过我们的眼睛、鼻子和其他感觉器官进入内心，其真正的效果只有运动或意向，即构成欲望或厌恶、接近或远离客体的移动。这种运动的表象或感觉，我们称为愉快或内心烦恼。

这种运动，称为欲望，从其表面来说就是高兴和愉悦，它似乎更加印证了生命运动，并为生命运动提供了帮助，因此这种引起高兴的事物，从其对生命运动提供的帮助和加强巩固来看，称为高兴和辅助是恰如其分的；相反，从其对生命运动的阻碍和干扰来看，则应称为不高兴和烦恼。

因此，愉悦（或高兴）是善的表象或感觉。不高兴或烦恼则是恶的表象或感觉。所有欲望、渴望和爱都伴随着或多或少的高兴；所有讨厌和厌恶都伴有或多或少的不愉悦和被冒犯。

愉悦或高兴有些是由对当下客体产生的感觉而出现的，这些可以被称为感觉的愉悦。（“肉欲的”一词，由于完全用于对他人的谴责，在法律出现之前它是没有使用空间的。）这种愉悦包括身体的所有吸收和排泄，以及所有看见、听见、闻到、尝到或触及的令人愉悦的东西。其他一些愉悦则来自于预期，这是由对事物目的或结果的预见而产生的，不论这些事物引起的感觉是愉悦还是不愉悦。这便是得出这些结论的人的心理愉悦。同理，感觉中的一些不愉悦称为痛苦，其他一些由对结果预期产生的不愉悦称为悲伤。

这些称为欲望、渴望、爱、厌恶、讨厌、愉悦和悲伤的单纯激情在不同考虑中有不同名称。首先，当它们相继出现时，就可能由于人们对达到其欲望的可能性的观点不同而有不同名称。其次，由于人们喜爱或讨厌的客体不同而具有不同名称。第三，将它们放在一起进行考虑，会产生不同名称。第四，由于其自身变化或连续性的原因，产生不同名称。

人们认为能成功，那么欲望就称为希望。

同理，认为不能成功，那么欲望就称为失望。

人们认为客体会造成伤害，那么厌恶就称为恐惧。

同理，希望用抵抗的方式避免伤害，就称为勇气。

突然的勇气称为愤怒。

常有的希望称为自信。

常有的失望称为不自信。

当我们认为他人被恶意行为伤害而受重伤时，这种愤怒就称为愤慨。

希望他人好的渴望称为仁慈、善意或慈善。如果对人类是普遍的，则称为善良的本性。

对财富的渴望称为贪婪。贪婪一词经常用于表达指责。因为争夺财富的人，当其他人获得财富时他们是不高兴的。尽管这种欲望本身应该受到指责，但根据获得财富的手段和方式，也可以被允许。

对公职或地位的渴望称为野心，这个词也用于贬义，原因和上述原因相同。

对于帮助我们达到目的无足轻重、鲜有裨益的事物的渴望，以及不甚妨碍事物的畏惧，称为懦弱。

对微小帮助或妨碍的轻视称为宽宏大量。

对死亡、受伤等危险表现出的大义就称为勇敢或刚毅。

对财富使用上的宽宏大量称为大方。

在相同卑微情况下表现出的懦弱，称为可怜或寒酸，这要取决于对方是否喜欢。

为了社交对人的爱称为友好。

为使感官得到愉悦而爱他人被称为自然欲望。

由沉思或对过去愉悦事物的回忆想象而产生的爱称为难得之乐。

只爱一人并渴望对方只爱自己的爱称为爱的激情。而惧怕自己付出的爱得不到回报，称为嫉妒。

伤害他人，以让他谴责自己做的事的欲望称为报复。

希望知道为什么以及怎么样的欲望称之为好奇心。好奇心为人类所特有。因此，人类区别于其他动物并不仅仅是因为其具有推理能力，也因为人类具有其他动物所不具有的激情。动物对食物的欲望，以及其他感觉的愉悦占主导地位时，就转移了对原因的探求。这是一种内心的欲望，由于从不断和不知疲倦地获取知识中获得长久的快乐，超越了任何短暂强烈的肉体愉悦。

对内心虚构、公开允许的神话中想象出来看不见的力量的恐惧，称之为宗教。不被公开允许的就称之为迷信。当我们想象的力量果真如我们所想时，就称之为真正的宗教。

对原因及真相不解而产生的恐惧称为惊恐。传说中这种惊恐的创造者是潘（Pan）并由此得名。事实上，产生恐惧的人，尽管其余的都被例子所说服，他们首先对原因都还是有一些理解。每个人都以为其他人知道原因。因此这种激情也仅仅发生在人群之中。

对新奇事物的理解而产生的喜悦称之为倾慕，这是人类所独有的，因为它激发出探求原因的欲望。

由对个人力量和能力的想象，即心理狂喜，因此而产生的喜悦称为荣耀。如果这种心理是根据自身以往行为的经验而产生，就和自信相同；但若是根据他人的吹捧而产生，或是为了自娱自乐臆想出的，则称为虚荣。这一词语用得恰如其分，因为有根据的自信可以带来努力，但认为自己有权力则不能，因此正好称为“虚”。

由希望得到权力（自身并无权力）的想法产生的悲伤称之为沮丧。

明明不存在的能力，而我们却虚构或自认为拥有该能力，加上历史或小说中英雄人物的影响，这种虚荣最容易出现在年轻人身上；这样的心理常常随着年龄的增长和工作经历而改正。

突然的荣耀是造成大笑这种怪相的激情。这种现象不是由感到高兴的一些自身突然行动造成的，就是由对他人身上某种畸形的理解，而相比自身却高兴得喝彩造成的。这种情况在那些意识到自身仅具有屈指可数能力的人身上发生的最多。他们通过观察他人身上的不完美之处，来勉强保持良好的自我感觉。因此，嘲笑他人缺点就是自身懦弱的表现。伟大人物的作用之一就是帮助他人使其从嘲讽中解放，并只把自己同最有能力的人相比。

相反，突然的沮丧是导致哭泣的激情。这是由一些情况所引起的，例如突然带走他们的热切希望或力量支柱。那些主要依靠外界帮助的人最易发生这种情况，例如妇女和儿童。因此一些人因为失去朋友而哭泣，另一些人由于朋友们的不友好而哭泣，其他人由于调解突然代替了预想的复仇而哭泣。但是在所有情况下，不论大笑和哭泣都是突然的运动。习惯会将它们带走，因为没有人会被陈年的笑话逗笑，也没有人会为过去的灾难哭泣。

发现能力上的一些缺点而产生的悲伤称为羞耻，即产生脸红的激情，它是由对一些不光彩事物的理解造成的。在年轻人中，表现为喜爱良好声誉，这是值得称赞的；在老年人中，也表现为对良好声誉的喜爱，只不过他们意识到的时间太晚，便不值得称赞。

对良好声誉的轻蔑称之为无耻。

因为他人不幸而引起的悲伤称之为怜悯。这是由想象到相同不幸会降临到自己身上而产生的，因此也称为同感，用当下话说就是同情。因此，对无恶不作之人遭受的不幸，最贤明的人给予他们最少怜悯。同样，对于那些认为不幸最不可能降临在自己头上的人，也给予他们最少怜悯。

对他人所受不幸的轻视或不闻不问，是人们所说的残忍，这是因为他们自身的幸福有安全保障；因为把自己的快乐建立在他人痛苦之上的任何人，若不是出于自身其他考虑，我想这是不可能的。

为在财富、名誉或其他利益方面竞争能否成功而忧伤，同时又不遗余力地让自己的能力同竞争者持平或超越他，就称之为竞争。但是如果在忧伤的同时不遗余力地排挤或阻碍竞争者，就称之为嫉妒。

当人们心中对一事物的欲望和厌恶、希望和恐惧交替出现时，做或忽略做这件事而产生的好坏结果会不断在我们的思想中出现。因此我们有时对它充满欲望，有时对其感到厌恶；有时希望有能力做这件事，有时充满失望、惧怕尝试。在做成这件事或认为这件事不可能的过程中不断出现的欲望、厌恶、希望和恐惧之和称之为深思熟虑。

因此对已经过去的事物，便不存在深思熟虑，因为它显然已经无法改变。知道不可能的事情或认为不可能的事情，也不会深思熟虑，因为人们知道即使深思熟虑也无益。但是我们认为可能的事情，即使在实际中是不可能的，却由于我们不知道所做的是无用功，我们可能会深思熟虑。之所以称之为深思熟虑，是因为我们不具有根据我们自身欲望或厌恶而决定做或是不做这件事的自由。

这种欲望、厌恶、希望和恐惧的交替出现不仅仅只存在于人类身上，兽类也会深思熟虑。

在人们完成深思熟虑或认为它不可能时，所有深思熟虑就结束了。因为直到那一时刻，我们还拥有根据自身欲望或厌恶来决定做或是不做这件事的自由。

在深思熟虑中，直接关系到行动或取消行动的欲望或厌恶称之为意志，它是意志的行动（而不是能力）。那么兽类可以深思熟虑，就一定拥有意志。经院学派一般给出的意志的定义是理性欲望，但这个定义不好；如果是这样，那么就没有违抗理性的自愿行动了。因为自愿行动正是从意志中来。但是如果不称之为理性欲望，我们就应该称之为由先前深思熟虑引起的欲望，定义和我这里给出的一样。因此意志就是深思熟虑中最后一个欲望。在一般讨论中，一个有意志的人决定做某事，而他克制住没有做，称其为一种倾向更恰如其分，这种倾向并不能让行为变成自愿行为，因为行为不依赖于它，而取决于最后的倾向，或者说欲望。如果期间产生的欲望能让行为变成自愿的，那么同理，期间产生的所有厌恶，也能让同一行为变为非自愿的，因此，同一个行为应既是自愿的又是非自愿的。

由上述内容可以看出，由贪婪、野心、情欲或其他欲望为开端的行为，以及由忽略行为而产生对结果的厌恶或恐惧为开端的行为都是自愿行为。

表达激情的语言形式与我们表达思想的语言形式部分相同，部分不同。第一，一般来说所有激情都可以用直陈语气表达，例如：“我爱”、“我怕”、“我开心”、“我深思熟虑”、“我愿意”、“我命令”；但有些表达有其自身特殊表达方式，除非是除开它们的开端——激情以外，还要做出其他论断。深思熟虑用虚拟方式表达，这种方式适用于表达假设以及结论。例如：如果这个事情做了，那么这个就会出现；并且这和推理语言没有区别，只是推理用的是一般性词语，而深思熟虑大部分使用特殊词语。欲望和厌恶的语言就是命令的。例如：“做这个，不做那个”；如果一方有义务必须做或被阻止做某事，就是命令；再就是祈祷或商议讨论。关于虚荣、愤慨、怜悯和报复的语言是祈使语；但想要知道某事的欲望则有一个特殊表达，称之为疑问形式，例如：“这是什么？”、“什么时候将要？”、“这个是如何做的？”、“为什么是这样？”除此之外我没有找到其他任何关于激情的语言。因为咒骂、发誓、痛斥等类似词语不能像语言一样指示意义，而仅仅是舌头习惯的动作罢了。

语言的这些形式是我们激情的表达或自主所指，但它们不是确定的表达符号。因为随意使用这些语言的人们不一定具有这种激情。现实中激情最好的表达在表情、身体运动、行动以及我们运用其他方式知道这个人的目的或目标。

因为在深思熟虑中，欲望和厌恶是由对善恶结果的预见以及我们对深思熟虑的继续行动而引起的。善恶结果依赖于对长的结果链条的预见，而很少的人才具有看到最终结果的能力。但在一个人的视野范围内，善的结果要多于恶的结果。整个链条就是大作家们所说的表面的或外在可见的善。相反，恶的结果多于善的结果时，整个链条就是表面的或外在可见的恶。因此，基于经验或推理对结果具有最远大和准确预见的人其本身最善于深思熟虑，并且当他愿意时，能够给他人最好的建议。

在获得一个人常常渴望的东西上不断成功，就是说，处于持续繁荣状态，就是人们说的幸福。我所指的是本生的幸福，在我们活着的时候，内心不可能有永恒的宁静，因为生命本身就是运动，因此不可能没有欲望，没有恐惧，也不可能没有感觉。上帝赐予虔诚敬仰他的人们幸福，他理解幸福之时不会早于他享受之时。这种快乐就像经院学者所说的极乐憧憬一样不可理解。

人们表达他们对任何事物之善的语言形式称为赞美。他们表达任何事物之力量和伟大的语言形式称为夸奖。他们表达自己对人类幸福观点的语言形式，用希腊语说即，我们自己的语言中还没有表达这个意思的词语。就目前来讲，关于激情的问题已经说得足够多了。

［……］

论人类幸福与痛苦的自然状态

大自然让人类在身体和心理两方面能力十分相等，尽管有时一个人的身体明显比另一个人强壮，或思维比另一个人反应迅速，然而将所有放在一起计算，人与人之间的差异并没有明显到这个人能获得另一个人同样要求而得不到的利益。因为就身体力量而言，力量最弱的人也足够杀死力量最强的人，不论是通过秘密谋杀或与其他面临同样危险处境者结成联盟。

就思维而言，（除了以语言为基石的艺术，特别是称为科学的，根据一般性和绝对可靠法则处理问题的技能，很少有人具备这种技能，且仅限在少数事物上。它不是生来具有的能力，也不是后天通过观察其他事物——例如在谨慎思考中获得的，）我在人类中发现了一种比力量更相等的东西。因为谨慎思考仅仅是经验，当他们在相同事物上花相同的时间，他们就能得到相等收获。让这种相等看上去难以置信的，是对自身智慧过度的良好感觉，因为几乎所有人都认为他们自己的智慧比一般人高。换句话说，除了自己和少数因出名或因赞同自己而受到自己肯定的人外，没有人比他聪明。因为这就是人类的天性，不论他们如何承认其他人比自己机智、口才好或学识多，他们都很难相信有这么多人和自己一样聪明。因为他近距离看到自己的智慧，却从远距离看他人的智慧。但这证明了人们在这一点上是平等而非不平等的。因为一般来说对任何东西的分配，最平等的就是每个人都满足于自己分得的那一份。

这一能力的平等引发了我们对达到自己目的所怀有的希望的平等。因此，如果两个人渴望得到同一个东西，但这东西不能同时被两个人拥有，那么他们就会成为敌人，直至他们达到目的前，（主要是保全自身或娱乐，）都尽力摧毁对方或让其臣服于自己。这样就会出现一种情况，一个侵略者除了对方单人力量以外别无畏惧时，如果一个人扶植、建立或拥有一个方便职位，其他人可能会联合多个力量做好准备而来，不仅剥夺他的劳动果实，还要剥夺他的生命和自由。然后侵略者自身又陷入别人带来的类似危险。

由于人们对他人缺乏信任，任何人都没有合理的方式来保证自身安全，除了先下手为强。那就是通过武力、诡计控制他能控制的所有人，直到他认为没有其他力量对其构成威胁为止。并且这仅是自保所需，一般是允许的。与此同时，因为有些人超出保护自己安全所需，用征服行为展示其力量，以此获得快乐。那些本来乐于安分过日子的人就不能长期仅仅依靠自我防卫生存下去。结果就是，统治权的扩张作为人们自保的必要条件，应该被允许。

不仅如此，在没有权力能够威慑所有人的地方，人们在相处时就没有快乐，（相反，则会存在许多悲伤）。因为每个人都希望他的同伴对自己的估计与自己对自己的估计保持相同水平。当他遇到轻视或低估他的一切迹象时，他就敢于（由于他们中间没有共同权力让他们和平共处，这足够让他们互相毁灭）用尽全力通过损害他人迫使轻蔑他的人对自己做出更高估计，并以此为例，强迫他人更高地估计自己。

因此，在人类的本性中，我们发现了三个争吵的主要原因：第一，竞争；第二，猜疑；第三，荣誉。

第一种原因是人们为了利益而侵略；第二种原因是为了安全；第三种原因是为了声誉。第一种使用暴力控制其他人、妻子、儿女和牲畜。第二种是保护他们。第三种是为了鸡毛蒜皮的小事，比如一句话、一个笑容、一个不同观点或其他任何低估他们的迹象：不论是直接对他本人的轻蔑或是间接对他们的亲戚、朋友、国家、职业或名声的轻蔑。

这一切说明，人们在没有共同权力震慑所有人的时期，就会处于战争状态，这种战争是每个人对每个人的战争。因为战争不仅由战役或对抗行为组成，而且存在于一段时期内，所有人都知道在这一时期内人们具有坚定的用战役解决问题的决心。因此时间的概念应考虑进战争的本质中，正如考虑天气的本质一样。因为天气的本质并不取决于一两场暴雨，而在于许多天下雨的倾向。所以战争的本质也并不是由实际的对抗构成，而是战争期间没有安全保障的人心向背。其他所有时间就是和平时期。

因此，战争期间人人为敌，其带来的结果就是人们的生活没有安全保障，他们只能靠自己的力量和发明维持生活。在此情况下，产业无处立足，因为产出不确定，进而造成农业产品、航海、海路进口货物的使用、舒适宽敞的房屋、移动拆除这些巨大沉重物体的工具、对地表的知识、时间的记录、艺术、文学、社会都不存在，最糟糕的是对暴力死亡危险的持续恐惧。人们生活在孤独、贫困、肮脏、残忍和短寿之中。

对于一个没有好好掂量这些事情的人而言，人的本质竟然会让人们彼此分离、让人们倾向于侵犯和摧毁他人，这是不可思议的。因此他可能不会相信由激情做出的推断，而希望通过经验证实这一点。那么就让他自己考虑吧，当他出门旅行时，会把自己全副武装，寻找同伴一同前往。睡觉时，他锁上房门。即使他在屋里时，也要锁上他的箱子。他知道会有法律、武装的官员惩罚使他受伤的行为。当他全副武装骑在马上时，他对自己的国民是什么想法？当他把门锁起来时，对他的同胞是什么想法？当他锁起箱子时，对他自己的孩子和仆人是什么想法？难道他不是和我一样在用他的行动谴责人类吗？只不过我是用文字谴责罢了。但我们都没有谴责人类的本性。人类的欲望和激情本身是无罪的。由这些激情产生的行为在人们知道会受到法律禁止前都是无罪的。法律制定之前他们是不会知道的，而在他们同意某人制定法律前，也不可能制定任何法律。

可能有人会想，从来不存在这种时期和战争状态。我相信整个世界不会全部出现这种状态，但世界上确实有些地方的人们生活在这种状态中。在美洲许多地方居住的野蛮人，除去小家族的权力外不存在任何政府，而小家族内的协调取决于自然欲望，他们如今生活在我之前提到的野蛮状态中。然而，从一个原先居住在和平政府环境中的人在内战中会堕落到这种野蛮状态，我们可以想象在没有共同权力威慑的地方，他们的生活习惯是怎样的。

尽管人人为敌的状态从来没有过，但所有时期的国王、统治者们因为他们的独立地位，始终妒忌，并保持格斗士的姿势，处于战斗状态，他们怒目而视、剑指对方，这就是他们王国边界上修筑的堡垒、守卫部队和枪炮，不仅如此，他们不断往邻国派遣间谍，这全都是战争姿态。但是由于他们以此维持住了臣民的产业，因此没有出现因为个人自由而产生的那种悲剧。

对于这场人人为敌的战争，另一个结果是：没有什么是不公平的。因为对错、公正与不公正的概念荡然无存。没有共同权力的地方就没有法律，没有法律的地方就没有公正。战争中的两种基本美德就是暴力和欺诈。正义和非正义都不属于身体和思想的功能。如果它们存在，就只能存在于一个孤独活在世上的人身上，感觉和激情也是如此。它们属于社会人的性质，而不属于独居者。下面的情况也同样会导致这样的结果：世上不存在财产、统治和你我之分；所有人在得到并保住它期间，这个东西就属于他。这就是因为人的本性而使之处于的糟糕状态。虽然逃脱这种状态的可能性存在，但一部分要靠激情，一部分要靠理性。

使人们倾向于和平的激情是对死亡的恐惧，对舒适生活必需品的欲望以及通过自身劳动获得它们的希望。接着，理智提出一个人们易于达成一致的和平条款。这些条款也称为自然法则，这些我将在接下来的两章里详细提及。[3]

［……］

————————————————————

[1] 马库斯·布鲁图斯（Marcus Brutus，前85年—前42年）：晚期罗马共和国元老院议员，刺客组织成员，策划了对尤利乌斯·恺撒的刺杀。——译者注。本书其余注释除特殊标明外，均为译者所加。

[2] 腓力（Philippi）：战役发生地点，位于马其顿。

[3] 此处不含第14、15章。

论国家

论国家的成因、产生和定义

（我们看见本性热爱自由、统治他人的人类生活在国家里）使自己受到束缚，其最终原因、目的和计划是要保全自己进而获得更满意的生活。这就是说，让他们自身摆脱战争的痛苦境地。当没有可见力量震慑人们，并以惩罚使他们惧怕而遵守契约以及第14章、第15章中提到的自然法则，战争就是人类自然激情的必然结果。

自然法则（如公正、公平、谦虚、仁慈，以及［总之］欲实施和被施加，）若没有一些力量给人们造成恐惧而使他们遵守，那么其本身就和那些把我们带向偏激、骄傲、仇恨等的自然激情不容。契约，若没有武力维持实行，则是空洞的文字，也就根本没有保障人类安全的力量。因此，虽然拥有自然法则，（当人们有遵守的意志并且通过这么做能够带来安全时才会遵守，）但若没有树立力量或没有足够的力量保证我们的安全，那么每个人都可以依法依靠自身力量和计谋对其他所有人保持警惕。所有以小族群为单位居住的人，在这些地方，抢劫他人成为一种行业，且这远远没有到违背自然法则的地步，他们抢劫所得越多就越荣耀。在这里人们只遵守荣耀法则，即戒掉残忍，留人生路，留给他们农用器具。过去小族群这么做，如今城市和王国只不过是更大的族群，面临危机、惧怕入侵或可能给予入侵者任何帮助，（为了他们自身安全）就尽其所能扩张领土，通过公开武力或秘密计谋征服或削弱他们的邻国，由于缺乏其他保证，这么做是恰当的，且这一荣耀被后世所铭记。

少数人联合也不能够给他们带来这种安全。因为在少数人中，一方或另一方增加一点就能够获得力量上的巨大优势，这一优势足以给一方带来胜利，因此鼓励侵略的产生。我们是否信任一个群体能够带来足够安全并不取决于人数的多少，而是取决于其同我们所恐惧敌人数量的比较。当敌人数量优势并不是明显到可以决定战争结果，从而推动他尝试侵略时，才是真正安全的。

即使有如此巨大的群体，如果他们的行为受到个人判断和欲望的引导，就不能期望他们对共同敌人进行防御，也不能期望他们对互相伤害进行保护。因为一旦在使用他们力量的最好方法上不能达成一致，他们就不能互相帮助，而只能相互妨碍，并且因为互相反对使他们的力量消失殆尽。这样他们就很容易被极少数团结起来的敌人所征服，而且为了自身利益，他们很容易在没有共同敌人时互相为战。因为如果我们可以假设许多人在没有共同权力使他们畏惧的情况下就能达成一致、遵守公正和其他自然法则，我们也可以假设全人类这么做，那么世界上就从不会有、也不需要有任何政府或国家了，因为没有服从也会拥有和平。

人们在一个有限时期内，例如一场战斗或一场战争中被统治或被一种判断所指引，这对于渴望终生安全的人们来说，是不足以保证的；因为尽管他们团结一致努力抵抗外国敌人并最终取得胜利，但之后当他们没有共同敌人或者一部分人认为他是敌人，而另一部分人认为他是朋友时，他们必然会因为利益的不同而陷入分歧，然后在他们之间爆发战争。

的确，一些生物，例如蜜蜂和蚂蚁，都能和平地共同生活，（因此亚里士多德把它们列为政治生物）。但它们除了受各自的判断和欲望引导之外，别无其他；此外它们也没有语言互相表明自己所想对全体有利。因此有些人可能想知道为什么人类不能如此。我的答案是：

第一，人类不断地为了荣誉和尊严而竞争，这些生物则不然。因此人们中间就会产生嫉妒和仇恨，最终引发战争，而在这些生物中则并非如此。

第二，在这些生物中，共同利益和个体利益没有差别。它们的本性倾向于个体利益，而它们通过个体利益获得共同利益。但是人类只会欣赏杰出的事情，他们的快乐产生于同他人作比较。

第三，这些生物在管理它们共同事务的过程中，（和人类不同）用不到理性、看不见也不认为它们能看见其中的任何缺点。然而在人类中，有很多人认为自己比其他所有人更加聪明、更有能力掌管这个国家，这些人就努力进行改革和创新，一个人用这种方法，一个人用另一种方法，由此引发分歧和内战。

第四，尽管这些生物使用一些声音告知同类它们的需要和感情，但它们没有语言，不会像人类一样用语言进行表达，把善说成恶，把恶说成善，夸大或减小明显的善恶程度，随心所欲地使他人不快，扰乱和平。

第五，无理智的生物不能区分伤害和损失，因此只要它们安逸生活，就不会感到同类的侵犯。而当人类处在最安逸的时刻则最麻烦，因为此时他最想展示他的智慧，并且爱控制管理国家的人的行为。

最后，这些生物的一致性是自然的，而人类的一致性则仅仅依靠人为契约。因此毫无疑问需要另外一些东西（除契约外）以保证他们的协议坚实持久，这就是让他们感到畏惧的共同权力，指导他们做出利于共同利益的行为。

建立一个能外御侵略，内防伤害的共同权力，保证他们依靠自己劳动和产出的果实丰衣足食生活满意，只有唯一一条路：即把他们所有的权力和力量赋予一个人，或赋予一个集体，通过多数声音统一他们的意志。这就是说，指定一个人或一个集体来代表他们的人格，每个人都承认他所赋予权力的人在共同和平和安全方面做出的行动或命令。在这种行为中，人们将自己的意志服从于他的意志，将自己的判断服从于他的判断。这不仅仅是赞同或协调，这是他们真正意义上的统一，统一于一个人格，这个人格是由所有人制定的契约选出的。就像每个人都对其他人说：“我放弃约束自己的权力并把它授权给这个人格或这个集体，条件是你也以此方式放弃你约束自己的权力并授权给他或集体。”做到这一点后，如此统一于一个人格的一群人就称之为国家，拉丁语为CIVITAS。这就是伟大利维坦（LEVIATHAN）的产生，或称为（更尊敬地说）现世上帝，我们在永恒上帝下得到的和平与保卫便是从它那里来的。通过国家内每个人赋予它的权威，它可以使用人们赋予它的极大权力和力量。通过恐惧，它能够将人们的意志组织起来，对内获得和平，对外互相帮助共同抵御外来敌人。它是由国家的实质构成的。（给它定义）就是由一大群人互相签订契约，每个人都是授权方，授权给一个能代表所有人的人格行动，使这个人格可以使用一大群人的力量和方法，为大家的利益、和平和共同防御考虑并行动。

担任这个人格的人称为主权者，拥有主权，其他所有人都是他的臣民。

获得主权有两种方法。第一种，通过自然力量，例如一个人让他的后代服从于他的统治，如果他们拒绝服从，主权者就会毁灭他们；或通过战争让敌人屈服于他的意志作为获得延续生命的条件。第二种，人们在内部达成协议，自愿服从他们相信的某个人或集体，因为他们相信所信之人或集体能够保护他们对抗其他所有人。后者可以称为政治国家或制度国家。前者称为获取的国家［……］

论臣民的自由

自由指的是没有阻碍，（说到阻碍，我指的是运动的外界障碍；）可以同样适用于无理性、无生命的创造物以及有理性的创造物。任何被捆绑或包围的事物，若只能在一定空间内移动，而这一空间又被某些外界物体所阻碍，我们就说它没有超越这一空间的自由。所有生物当它们被墙或链子束缚或限制时，当水被堤坝或容器阻挡，否则就会流向更大的空间去时，我们就说它们没有毫无外界阻碍地运动的自由。但当运动障碍存在于事物本身时，我们就不说它没有自由，而说它缺少运动的力量，正如一块静止的石头或一个因病卧床不起的病人。

根据这一词语恰当和普遍接受的意义，一个自由人就是在他的力量和智慧所能达到的范围内，可以毫无阻碍地按照他的意志做事的人。但当自由一词被用于物体之外的任何事物上时，就是滥用，因为不存在运动的事物，就不存在阻碍。因此，（举个例子）当说到这条路是自由的这句话时，并不指这条路拥有自由，而是指在路上行走的人可以毫无阻碍地行走。当我们说送礼物是自由的时候，并不指礼物本身是自由的，而是指送礼物的人不受任何法律或契约的约束，可以自由地送礼物。因此，当我们自由地说话时，并不是声音或发音本身是自由的，而是指没有法律要求说话之人以其他方式说话。最后，自由意志一词的使用，也不是指意志、欲望或倾向的自由，而是指人的自由，即他在按照自身意志、欲望或倾向做事时没有阻碍。

恐惧和自由是相容的。当一个人因为惧怕船只沉没而往海里扔东西时，他是十分愿意这么做的，并且如果他不愿意可以不这么做。因此，这是自由之人的行为。一个人有时会偿还他的债务，仅仅因为他对入狱充满恐惧，因为没有人妨碍他不还债，这就是自由之人的行为。一般来说，人们因为惧怕法律而在国家内的一切行为都是他们有自由忽略不做的。

自由和必然性是相容的。比如水不仅仅有自由，也拥有顺着河道向低处流的必然性。同理，在人们自愿所做之事中也是一样，（因为自愿所做源于他们的意志）自愿所做也就源于自由。但是由于人们源于其意志的每一行为、每一欲望和倾向都来源于某种原因，而这一原因又存在于连续原因链条中的另一个原因中，（上帝手中的第一环节就是所有原因之源，）这些行为源自必然性。所以对于能发现这些原因之间联系的人，人们所有自愿行为的必然性就很明显了。因此，上帝既看到并安排万物，也看到人们按照自己意志做事的自由，并让自由不多不少带有上帝意志的必然性。因为虽然人们可以做许多上帝没有要求也没有授权的事情，但要是没有上帝的意志为原因，人们就不会对任何事物有激情和欲望。假设上帝的意志不能保证人们意志的必然性，而保证人们意志所依赖的一切都具有必然性，人类的自由就会和上帝的全能和自由相矛盾相阻碍。（对于目前的问题来说）这就足够说明唯一可以称为自由的自然自由。

作为人，为了获得自由并以此保护自己的生命，制造了一个人造人，就是我们所称的国家。他们也制造了称为民法的人造链条，通过相互立定契约，将他们赋予主权的人或集体的舌头系在链条一端，另一端系上自己的耳朵。这些链条捆绑本质上是脆弱的，虽然不能靠其本身难以折断维持，但仍然可以通过链条断裂之后产生的危险来维持。

我现在要说的臣民的自由只是相对于这些链条束缚的自由。因为世界上没有任何一个国家的法规多到约束人们的一切行动和话语，（这是不可能的：）这就是说，在法律允许的所有行为中，人们有自由按照自己的理性去做对自身最有利的事情。因为如果我们把自由的恰当意义看作人身自由，那就是说，不受链条和监狱的束缚，他们再去吵闹争取这种自由是十分荒谬的，因为他们现在已经享有这种自由了。另外，如果我们把自由看作法律豁免自由，像人们现在这样争取这种自由也是荒谬的，靠这种自由，所有其他人都成为自己生命的主人了。尽管这很荒谬，但这就是他们所要求的，他们不知道法律没有一个人或许多人拥有并执行武力就没有权力保护他们。因此，臣民的自由只存在于主权允许的行为内，例如买卖、与他人签订契约、选择自己的住处、饮食、行业和采用他们认为合适的方式教育子女等等。

但是我们不明白至关生死的主权因为这种自由而被废除或限制。因为这里已经表明，在任何情况下主权代表对臣民所做的一切都不能被恰当地称为不公正或伤害，因为每个臣民都是主权一切行为的授权者，所以除了他自己是上帝的臣民因而必须遵守自然规律之外，他对任何事从不缺少权利。因此在一个国家可能或经常会发生一个臣民可以受主权的命令被杀死，而双方都没有做对不起对方的事。杰普撒（Jeptha）让他女儿为祭祀而牺牲就是如此。在这种或类似情况下，像他这样死去的人有自由这么做，然而他这样被处死却没有受到伤害。一个主权君主处死一个无辜臣民时，也是同样道理。因为尽管这种行为违反公正裁决、违背自然法则，（就像大卫杀死乌利亚一样，）对乌利亚来说并没有受到伤害，但对上帝造成了伤害。乌利亚没有受到伤害的原因是他已经把做他愿意的事情的权力交给大卫了。上帝受到伤害的原因是大卫是上帝的臣民，自然法则禁止他做一切不公正的事情。这一区别在大卫自己忏悔时已经确认了，他说“我向你犯罪，唯独得罪了你”。（《诗篇》第51章）同样，当雅典人将国内势力最强的人放逐十年时，他们认为自己没有做任何不公正之事，并且他们从来不问被放逐的人犯了什么罪，而只问他造成了什么伤害。不仅如此，他们还命令放逐不知道的人。每个公民都把他的贝壳带到市场上，把他希望放逐的人的名字写在贝壳上而不用真正起诉他，有时候就把亚里斯泰迪斯（Aristides）放逐了，因为他公正的声誉。有时候把粗俗卑鄙喜欢开玩笑的人放逐了，比如希帕波鲁斯（Hyperbolus），因为他喜欢开玩笑。但我们不能说雅典主权人民没有放逐他们的权利，或者雅典人没有开玩笑的自由或缺乏公正。

古希腊和古罗马人的历史与哲学以及在他们接受政治观点的著作和讨论中，经常提到的自由不是个人的自由，而是国家的自由。这种自由和没有民法或国家时每个人应有的自由相同，效果也一样。因为在没有主人的人群中，永远是人人与邻为敌的战争。人们没有遗产留给儿子，也不会期望从父亲那里得到什么，物品和土地没有所有权，没有安全可言，但每个人都有完全和绝对的自由。因此独立存在的每个国家（不是每个人）都拥有绝对的自由根据自己的判断（就是说根据主权代表者或集体的判断）做最利于他们的事。但他们生活在永恒的战争中，在他们国界内，前线全部武装起来，大炮指向周围国家。说雅典人和罗马人是自由的，指的是他们是自由的国家，不是哪一个人拥有反抗他们代表的自由，而是说他们的代表者有自由抵抗或入侵其他民族。如今在路加城角楼上写着巨大的字：自由。但是没有人能因此推测这个国家的哪一个人比君士坦丁堡的人更自由或者能免除更多兵役。不论一个国家是君主制还是民主制，自由都是一样的。

但是人们很容易被自由这个幌子欺骗，因为缺少区分的判断力，误将只属于公共的权利当成私人遗产和与生俱来的权利。当这种权利被某个在这个领域出过书而闻名的权威肯定时，发生叛乱和政府更替就不足为奇了。在西方世界中，我们从亚里士多德、西塞罗和其他生活在民主国家的希腊和罗马人身上接受关于国家制度和权利的观点。这些人并没有从自然原理中导出这些权利，而是把自己民主国家的做法转到他们的书上，就像语法学家根据当时的做法描述语言规则，或通过荷马或维吉尔的诗作描述诗歌规则一样。（要避免雅典人更换政府的欲望）雅典人民被教导说他们是自由人，而所有住在君主制国家的人民都是奴隶。因此亚里士多德就把它写进《政治学》中，在该书第6篇第2章中写道：“在民主国家里，人们认为自由是理所当然的，因为一般人认为生活在任何其他政府统治之下的人都没有自由。”和亚里士多德一样，西塞罗和其他著名作家把罗马人的意见作为他们提倡的民事原则的基础，这些罗马人被教导憎恨君主制，最初就是他们废掉了统治者、共享罗马主权，后来是他们的继承者。通过阅读这些希腊、拉丁作家的书，人们从童年开始就学会了一种习惯，（在虚假的自由下）喜欢暴乱、热衷毫无顾忌地控制主权者的行动，之后再控制这些控制者，弄得鲜血横流。我想我可以实在地说，从来没有任何事比这些西方世界学习希腊和拉丁语付出的代价更大了。

现在谈一谈臣民真正自由的具体情况。这就是说，尽管统治者下了命令，但是如果出于公正，什么事是可以拒绝去做的。我们要考虑的是，当我们建立国家的时候，我们失去了哪些权利。或者说（实际说的是一回事），当我们所有人都认可主权者或集体的时候，我们自己丧失了哪些权利。因为在我们服从的行为中，既有我们的义务也有我们的自由；因此它们要通过一些论据进行推测。没有哪个人的义务不是从他自己的一些行为中产生的，所有人生而平等，这对所有人都是一样的。这种论据必须从“我授权给他一切行为”或从服从此人的人的意图中推测出来（这种意图要通过他服从的目的来理解）。臣民的义务和自由就必须从这些词语（或其他等价词语）或从主权建立的目的，即臣民内部的和平以及对共同敌人的防御中去推导。

因此，第一，主权是根据人与人之间建立的契约而建立，而由其他方式获得的主权则是通过被征服者对胜利者，或孩子对父母的契约建立的。很明显，在不能依据契约转移权利的所有这些事上，每个臣民都有自由。我在前面第14章已经说明，不能为人们提供保护的契约是无效的。因此，如果主权者命令一个人（尽管宣判公正）去杀害、中伤自己，或对侵犯自己的人不予抵抗，或拒绝食物、空气、药品或其他维持生命所必需的东西，这个人就有不遵守契约的自由。

如果一个人受到主权者或当权人关于其犯罪的审问时，（在没有赦免保证的情况下）他就不用必须承认罪行。因为没有人（如我在同一章所证明）受到契约的强制去控告自己。

同样，一个臣民对主权的承认包含在这些话中：我授权他的所有行为并对他的所有行为负责。这对他本身之前拥有的天赋自由没有任何限制。因为允许他杀我，但当他命令我杀害自己时，我就没有必要这么做。有一句话是这样说的：“如果你愿意，杀了我或我的朋友”，另一句话说：“我将杀了自己或我的朋友。”由此得出：

没有人因为词语本身要杀害自己或其他任何人。因此一个人由于受到主权者命令处理任何危险或无荣誉的事而具有的义务，并不取决于我们服从的词语，而取决于意图，并且要根据事情的结果来理解。所以，若因为我们拒绝服从就会影响建立主权这一结果时，我们就没有自由去拒绝，反之则有自由去拒绝。

据此，一个人接受命令成为士兵去同敌人作战，尽管主权者有权利因为他拒绝出战而将他处死，在很多情况下他仍然可以正当拒绝，比如他找到了一个能胜任的士兵代替他的位置。因为在这种情况下他没有无视国家的兵役。对于生来胆小的人也应特别对待，不仅仅对妇女（人们并没有期待她们担负如此危险的义务，）对那些像女人一样胆小的男人也是一样。军队打仗时，一方或双方都有逃跑的情况，当他们出于恐惧而不是叛变而逃跑时，他们的行为就不能被认为是不合理的，而是丧尽荣誉的。同理，逃避战斗不是非正义的，而是怯懦。但是他自己应征入伍或接受军饷，就不能以胆小为借口。此时他不仅有义务开赴战场，也不能不得到长官允许就逃跑。当国家的防御立刻需要所有能够参战的人武装起来时，所有人都有义务，不然国家建立起来而又没有决心或勇气保卫国家，一切都是无用的。

没有人拥有因为保护一个有罪或清白的人而同国家武力进行对抗的自由，因为这会使主权者失去保护我们的方法，因而对政府的实质具有破坏作用。但是如果大批人一起不正确地对抗主权者或已经犯下一些死罪，并且都知道自己难逃一死，他们是否有自由联合起来相互帮助、互相防御呢？当然有，因为他们保卫的是自己的生命，有罪之人和清白之人一样都能够这么做。他们第一次违反义务时是不正确的，之后他们拿起武器虽然是为了保护他们已经做的，但这就不是一个新的不正确的行为了。如果他们这么做仅仅是为了保护自己，那么这根本就不是不正确的。但在赦免他们后，通过自我防卫的请求继续帮助或保卫其他的人就是违法的。

至于其他自由，取决于法律的规定。在主权没有规定规则的情况下，臣民就有按照自身考虑选择去做或不做的自由。因此，根据主权者认为是否最方便，在一些地方自由较多，一些地方较少，一些时候较多，而另一些时候较少。例如，在英格兰有一段时间一个人可以凭借武力进入他自己的领地（驱逐非法占有它的人）。但后来，这种武力进入的自由因为议会中（由国王）制定的法律而停止。在世界一些地方，男人有拥有许多配偶的自由，在其他地方，这种自由是不被允许的。

如果一个臣民根据先前的法律在债务、土地或物品所有权、兵役或任何肉体惩罚和罚款上与主权者进行争论，这个臣民拥有为自己在主权者制定的法官面前上诉的自由，就像他起诉另一个臣民一样。因为主权者通过先前法律而不是他的权力来获得自己所要求的东西，因此他声明他的需要不会超过法律的规定。如此这样，诉讼就不违背主权者的意志，而臣民也有要求旁听自己案件的自由，并根据法律做出判决。但是如果他依靠自己的权力要求或获得任何东西，在这种情况下，就没有法律行为。因为他一切的所作所为都是依靠自己的权力、都是依据每个臣民的授权做出的，他对主权者提起诉讼就是起诉自己。

如果一个君主或主权议会赋予所有臣民或任何臣民一种自由，但这个赋予成立却不能为臣民提供安全保障时，这个赋予就是无用的，除非他直接声明或将主权交给他人。因为（如果这是他的真实想法）他就会公开地用清晰明白的语言声明放弃或让出主权，但是他没有这么做。我们可以理解为这并不是他所想所希望的。这种赋予产生于不知道自由和主权之间的矛盾。因此主权仍然被保留下来，进而所有行使主权所必需的权力都被保留下来，例如宣战、求和、司法、任命官员、任命议员、征税以及第18章中提及的其他权力。[1]

臣民对主权的服从不会长于主权者的权力能够保护他们的时间。在没有任何其他人能够保护他们的时候，人们生来具有保护自己的权利是不会通过契约而放弃的。主权是国家的灵魂，一旦离开了身体，身体各部分就不会从灵魂上接受任何运动。服从的目的是保护，一个人无论在自己或他人的武力中发现这种服从，人的本性就会服从和保持这种武力。虽然按照建立主权的人们的意图，主权是永恒的，但其本质不仅会由于外来战争而暴毙，也会因为人们的无知和激情，从建立主权开始，内部就有许多不和谐的种子。

如果一个臣民在战争期间入狱，或他本人，或谋生手段在敌人警戒之中，若以臣服于胜利者为条件换取生命和人身自由，他有自由接受这种条件，在接受这种条件之后，他就要臣服于俘获他的人，因为他没有别的办法保护自己。如果他在外国以同样条件被拘留，也是一样。但是如果一个人入狱或被束缚，或不被信任给予人身自由，他就不能被认为受到契约束缚而服从。因此，如果他能力允许，是可以通过任何手段逃跑的。

如果一个君主为了自己和继承人要放弃主权，他的臣民就回到了绝对的天赋自由状态。因为尽管大自然可以宣布哪些人是他的儿子，哪些人是他最近的亲属，但谁是他的继承人仍然完全取决于他的意志（如前面章节所说）。如果他不要继承人，那也就没有主权和臣服了。如果他死的时候没有人们都知道的亲属，也没有宣布他的继承人，这种情况也是一样。因为这时没有人们所知的继承人，因此也就没有应遵守的臣服。

如果主权者驱逐他的臣民，在被放逐期间他就不是主权者的臣民。但是如果他是被外派出差，或外出旅游，那么他仍然是主权者的臣民。但是这取决于主权者之间的契约，而不是取决于臣服的契约。任何进入他国领土的人，都应服从当地的法律，除非他同主权者关系友好而具有特权或特别许可。

如果一个君主在战争中被俘而臣服于胜利者，他的臣民就不用遵守原先的义务而改为履行胜利者规定的义务了。但是如果君主入狱，并且失去了人身自由，他就不应该被认为放弃了主权，因此他的臣民就有义务服从原来任命的官员，这些官员不是以自己的名义而是以君主的名义行使统治。由于君主的权利仍然存在，问题就只剩下管理了。这就是说，只剩下地方法官和政府官员的问题了。如果君主无法任命这些官员的话，那么就应当认为他同意之前任命的那些人。

［……］

论削弱国家或使国家解体的因素

虽然生命有限的人类制造的东西不可能是永恒的，但如果人们真能使用他们所认为拥有的理性，他们就能保证国家的安全，至少不被内部疾病所毁坏。因为根据自身的性质，国家在建立之初就设计成与赋予它们生命的人类、自然法则和正义一样长存。因此，当国家面临非外部暴力而是内部动乱要解体时，错误不在人类，因为他们是质（Matter），而在创造者（Makers）和发号施令者身上。因为最后当人们对混乱的冲突和杀戮感到厌倦后，就满心渴望将自身形成一座坚固持久的大厦。因此既缺少制定合适法律的艺术来规范人们的行为，又缺少谦虚和忍耐将自己现有杰作中粗糙累赘的部分除掉，他们没有一位十分能干的建筑师的帮助，建造的最多只能是摇摇欲坠的建筑，这种建筑物很难撑过他们所处的时代，以后肯定会砸到他们后代的头上。

因此，在一个国家的病症中，我首先要提及那些由于建立中存在的瑕疵引起的病症，这和由先天缺陷所造成的身体疾病相似。

其中一种就是：获得王国的人有时对于保证国家和平与国家防御必要力量的不足也能感到满足。从这一点就会出现，当为了恢复公共安全而使用搁置的权力时，这似乎就是一种不正当的行为，就会让许多人（当这种情形真的发生时）起来反叛。由患病父母所生孩子的身体也是一样，这些孩子逃脱不了夭折的命运，或因为治疗由先天毒素引发的顽疾而引起脓包或结痂。君主们放弃一些这种必要的权力，并不总是（尽管有时）由于不知道自己职责所必须做的是什么，而更多时候是出于希望将来能按他们的意愿重新获得。在这里他们的理由并不好，因为这种让他们遵守承诺的理由会被外国利用同他们进行对抗。这些国家为了自身臣民的利益很少会放过削弱其邻国的机会。因此坎特伯雷的大主教托马斯·贝克特就受到教皇的支持反对亨利二世，因为在威廉一世即位时发誓不侵犯教堂的自由，就免除了教士对国家的服从。同样，威廉二世借助男爵的帮助从他哥哥那里继承了王位，这便使男爵的势力增加到与主权难以共存的地步，他们发动针对约翰王的叛乱时，法国人为他们提供了帮助。

这种情况不仅仅出现在君主制国家。因为在古罗马共和国，国家的支柱虽然是罗马元老院和罗马人民，但元老院和罗马人民都不能拥有所有权力，这首先就引起了提比流斯·格拉齐、该犹斯·格拉齐、卢修斯·萨图尼努斯和其他人的叛乱，后来就变成了在马里乌斯和西拉领导下的元老院和人民之间的战争，然后在庞贝和恺撒统治时期消灭了民主并建立起君主制国家。

雅典人民约束自己不能做一件事：任何人都不能提出为了萨拉米斯岛而重新发起战争，否则将被处死。如果梭伦没有在外装疯卖傻，后来扮成疯子的模样和习惯，向他身后结队而行的人提出这个问题，他们的城门外就会有时刻严阵以待的敌军。所有权力受到极小限制的国家都会被迫经受这种伤害或更替。

其次，我要说由煽动言论导致的国家疾病。其中一种就是：每个平民都是善行与恶行的法官。这在没有民法的纯自然状态下是正确的，在公民政府法律没有进行规定的事情上也是正确的。然而，对善行和恶行的衡量标准显然是民法，法官是立法者，他永远是国家的代表。从这一虚假原则来看，人们会在心里算计，同国家命令进行争论，然后根据自己的判断决定遵守与否，这样国家就被扰乱和削弱了。

另一种与公民社会相矛盾的是“一个人做出的任何违背良知的事都是罪过”。这源于将自己设想成善恶判断者。由于一个人的良心和判断是同一种东西，既然判断会出错，那良心也会出错。因此，尽管他不服从任何民法，他所做的一切违背良知的事都是罪过，因为除了自己的理性就没有其他任何法则可以遵守了。然而，对于生活在一个国家的人就不是如此了，因为法律是公共良知，是他已经承诺要遵守的。否则在主观个人良知差异如此巨大的情况下，国家必然会混乱，因为没有人会在看到极大个人利益时，选择服从主权。

大众还普遍地接受这种教育：“信仰和圣洁不能通过学习和理性获得，而要通过超自然的灵感或灌输获得。”若承认这一点，我不明白为什么每个人都要为他的信仰提出一个理由，为什么每个基督徒不能是一个先知，为什么每个人要用自己国家的法律而不是自己的灵感作为行动准则。如此我们就又陷入了自己判断善恶的错误中；或者把那些假装得到超自然灵感的个人当作善恶的判断者，进而导致公民政府的解体。信仰源于所听，所听来自于那些指引我们走向讲话者的偶然。这些偶然都是全能的上帝策划的。这些偶然并不是超自然的，而仅仅是产生每种效果时，因为数量很多而无法观察到。信仰和圣洁确实不十分常见，但它们不是奇迹，而是在上帝认为合适时通过教育、训练、改正以及其他自然方法使它们在选民中产生效果。这三种有害于和平及政府的观点在这个地方主要源于胸无点墨的神职人员口中和笔下，他们把《圣经》中的文字拼在一起，不顾违背理性，尽其所能地让人们认为圣洁和自然理性是不能共存的。

第四种有害于国家性质的观点是：拥有主权的人要服从民法。毫无疑问，所有主权者要服从自然法，因为这种法律是神订立的，任何人和国家都不能废除。但是主权者自身可以不服从自己，即国家制定的法律。因为服从法律就是服从国家，服从国家就是服从主权代表者，就是服从自己。这就不是服从，而是不受法律约束。这种错误是因为将法律置于主权之上，将一个法官和惩罚他的权力置于他之上。这样就创造出一个新主权者，同理又会有第三个主权者惩罚第二个主权者，如此不断进行下去，给国家带来混乱，导致国家解体。

第五种倾向于国家解体的教义是：每个人对其物品都具有绝对所有权，而这种所有权不包括主权者的权利。事实上每个人都有除开其他所有臣民权利的所有权。他仅从主权者那里获得权利，而不受主权者保护，其他每个人都对这些物品具有同等权利。但如果主权者的权利也被除去，他就不能行使公民赋予他抵御外敌、保护安全的职责了，进而国家就不存在了。

如果臣民所有权不排除主权代表对他们拥有物品的权利，就更不能排除他们司法或行政的能力，他们在这些部门代表主权者本人。

第六种教义明显直接地违背国家本质。这种说法是：主权可以分割。所谓的分割国家权力就是让国家解体，因为被分割的主权会互相摧毁。对于这些教义，人们主要是看着那些依据自身所学而不是立法权的法律专业人员。

同虚假教义一样，邻国政府的例子也让人们改变之前已经固定的形式。因此犹太人被鼓动起来拒绝上帝，并拜访先知撒母耳依照其他国家的方式选出国王。希腊少数城池也因为贵族和平民的煽动叛乱不断受到骚扰。几乎每个国家都会有一部分人希望仿照拉西德蒙人，而另一部分人希望仿照雅典人。我相信很多人都满意地看着英格兰因为模仿低地国家而引起最近出现的麻烦。他们认为变得富裕只需像他们那样改变一下政府的形式足矣。因为人类天性就喜欢新奇，当他们看到邻国用某种方式变得富裕，就激励了他们也这样做，他们就不可能不对那些唆使他们这么做的人感到满意了。最开始他们是喜爱的，但他们又会对持续的混乱感到悲伤，就像发痒的热血之人，他们会用指甲挠发痒的地方，直到他们不能忍受疼痛为止。

至于专门反抗君主制的叛乱，最常见的原因之一就是阅读关于古希腊、古罗马政治的历史书籍。从这些书中，那些年轻人和不具备坚定理智的人从他们军队的伟大战绩中获得了强烈的喜悦感，也对他们所做的一切感到满意，心中想象他们的伟大繁荣不是从哪一个人的好强中得来的，而是从平民政府的形式中得来的，他们没有考虑到因为政策不完善而导致的经常性叛乱和内战。我是说阅读这类书籍人们就会杀死他们的国王，因为在希腊和拉丁作家的书以及政治论述中，任何人杀死他们的国王都是合法且值得称赞的行为，只要他杀死国王之前称之为暴君。他们不说弑君，即杀死国王合法，而说弑杀暴君，即杀死暴君是合法的。从同种书里，生活在君主制国家中的人们有一种看法，即生活在民主制国家的人们享受自由，但生活在君主制国家中的所有人都是奴隶。我说的生活在君主制国家中而不是生活在民主政府统治下的人们拥有这种观点，是因为生活在民主政府统治下的人们找不到这种事情。总之，我不能想象有什么比不让谨慎的大师们修改这些书，去除其中有害部分就直接允许这些书被公开阅读更有害于君主制国家了。我会毫不犹豫地将这种毒害比作被疯狗咬伤，医生将这种病称为恐水症，或惧水病。因为被咬的人会一直口渴而又怕水，就像这种毒要把他变成一只狗。因此，当一个君主制国家的状况被民主作家不断狂咬，它需要的正是一个强有力的君主；但又由于某种暴力恐惧症，或惧怕被强烈统治，当人们拥有了这样的君主后，又会感到害怕。

正如有些人认为人有三个灵魂一样，也有人认为一个国家可能有不止一个灵魂（即多个主权者）。并建立最高权力与主权对立，建立教规与法律对立，建立神权与民权对立。他们用一些本身无所指的词语和区别扰乱人们的思想，让他们思想中朦胧地显示出有另外一个看不见的王国，正如黑暗中的精灵王国。现在明显可以看出，民权和国家权力是同一个东西，最高权力、制定教规的权力和授予宗教人员特权的权力意味着一个国家。可以得出，一个地方有主权者，又有最高权力者，一方可以制定法律，而另一方就可以制定教规，同一个臣民或同样的臣民就有两个国家，这个王国自身会分裂，无法继续存在。尽管可以对世俗和神进行毫无意义的区分，它们仍然是两个王国，每个臣民必须服从两个统治者。由于神权挑战了宣布什么是罪的权力，因此也就有权宣布什么是法律，（罪，正是对法律的侵犯；）同理，民权也挑战宣布什么是法律的权力，每个臣民都必须服从两个统治者，他们都要人们把他们的命令当成法律遵守，这是不可能的。或者只有一个王国，要不就是国家权力的民权服从神权，这样只有神权而没有统治权；或者神权必须服从世俗权力，这样就仅仅存在最高世俗权力。因此当这两种权力相互对抗时，国家就会陷入内战和解体的巨大危机。由于世俗权力是可见的，从自然理性方面看更加明显，这就只能使相当一部分人一直倾向于它。神灵权力尽管只存在于经院学派区别的黑暗和晦涩词语中，由于人类对黑暗和鬼魂的恐惧大于任何其他恐惧，就不会有能够扰乱并有时能摧毁国家的党派了。这种疾病可以不恰当地比喻为癫痫（犹太人认为这是一种由于灵魂占据身体导致的病）。由于在这种病中，有一种非自然的灵魂或风进入大脑，阻碍了神经根部，并使之剧烈运动，使本应由大脑灵魂力量引起的运动消失，因此在这些部位引起剧烈不规律的运动（人们称之为痉挛），得了这种病的人由于感觉已经被剥夺，有时会掉进水中，有时会掉入火里。在国家中也是一样，当神灵的权力借助人们对惩罚的恐惧和对奖励的渴望（这两者是国家的神经）来推动国家运作，而不是通过本应通过的民权（这是国家的灵魂）运作国家，此外用奇怪晦涩的词语让人们的理解窒息，以此定会误导人民，不是运用压迫使国家灭亡就是让国家燃起内战的硝烟。

有时在一个纯粹的世俗政府中也不止有一个灵魂：例如税收权就起到营养作用，这取决于全体大会；行为和命令权是行动能力，这取决于一个人；立法权是理智能力，这取决于以上两者和第三者偶然性的同意。由于有时没有同意良好法律的施行，国家就会面临危险。但更多时候则是由于缺乏生命必需的营养和运动。因为尽管极少数人认为这样的政府不是真正的政府，而是国家三个派系中的一个，称之为混成君主制国家。然而事实是，这并不是一个独立的国家，而是三个独立的派系；它也不是一个代表，而是三个代表。在上帝的王国里，可能有三个独立而不破坏上帝统一的人进行统治；但在人统治的地方，由于意见各不相同，就不可能是上述情况。因此如果国王代表人民的意志，全体大会也代表人民的意志，另外一个大会也代表一部分人民的意志，那么他们就不代表相同意志，也不是一个主权者，而是代表三种意志和三个主权者。

我不知道我能把一个国家的这种不正常状态准确地比作人身体的什么疾病，但是我见过一个人在他一侧又长出一个人来，有自己的头、胳膊、胸部和胃；如果在他的另一侧又长出一个人来，那么这个比喻就准确了。

到现在为止，我所列举的国家疾病都是最严重的，患病当下十分危险。除此之外还有并不十分严重的疾病，但也要加以注意。首先，为国家必需的用途而筹集资金的困难，尤其是面临战争时。这种困难来自于一种观点，这种观点认为每个臣民对其土地和物品都有所有权，主权者的使用权排除在外。这样就会出现，在主权者预见到国家所需和危险时，（发现由于人民的固执，征得的金钱不能上缴国库，）他应当面对危机并将危机遏制在萌芽的时候，却尽其所能拖延，而当他不能继续拖延的时候，会用法律策略向人民施压，获得微不足道的金钱，当这些钱财不够时，最后他就只能运用暴力手段开金钱之源，否则国家就会灭亡。一般来说，运用这些极端手段后，人民的情绪最终会平静，否则国家一定会灭亡。由此我们可以把这种病疫十分贴切地比作疟疾，疟疾的症状是肌肉部分僵化或被有毒物质堵塞，血液通过静脉向心脏输送，心脏就不能（像本应的那样）从动脉获得血液，由此首先会产生发冷收缩，四肢颤抖，之后产生热量，强力推向心脏为血液打开通道。而在这之前，它可能会通过降温来稍稍恢复精神使自己得到满足，直到（如果身体条件足够强壮）最后冲破阻塞部位，将有毒物质通过汗液排出，若是（身体条件太弱）的病人，就会死亡。

同样，一个国家有时有一种疾病，和肋膜炎类似。那就是当一个国家的财政运行失控，由于公共税收的垄断或控制使过多钱财掌握在一个或几个人手中，就像肋膜炎中的血进入肋膜，造成发炎，伴有发烧和强烈针刺痛感。

同样，一个有权势的臣民的名望，（除非国家对他的忠诚具有非常高的信任）是一种危险的疾病。因为人民（本该从统治者权力那里获得行动命令）会通过奉承和具有野心之人的声誉而不再服从法律，而是服从另一个人，而人们对这个人的品德和目的毫无所知。这种事情一般来说对一个民主政府的危害比对一个君主制政府的危害更大，因为民主国家的军队力量雄厚，人数众多，这样就很容易将他们伪装成人民。尤利乌斯·恺撒就是运用这种方法获得人民支持反对元老院，使自己成为元老院和人民的主人。这种赢得民心拥有野心之人的做法就是明显的叛乱，并可以同巫术的效果相当。

国家的另一种疾病是城镇规模过大，这样国家就可以从自己的城市中组建起人员庞大的军队并负担其支出。自治城市过多也是一样，它们像一个巨大国家中的许多小国家，就像人肠道中的蠕虫。我在此要做一些补充，那些冒牌政治家对绝对权力提出异议，他们中的大部分人来自人民中的渣滓，由于被虚假知识蒙蔽，就一直干涉基本法律骚扰国家，就像医生称为蛔虫的小蠕虫一样。

我们可以进一步补充，无法满足的领土扩张欲望或贪念，外加敌人多次造成的不可治愈之伤，还有已经征服而未统一的领土，常常是一种负担，失去它相对于保留它的危险更小。懒惰享受、虚荣浪费也是一样。

最后，在战争中（对外或对内战争）敌方取得最后胜利，到了（己方力量不能控制战场）时，就不能对忠诚的臣民加以更多保护了，这时国家解体，每个人都有自由根据自己的判断选择保护自己的方式。因为主权者是给予国家生命和运动的公共灵魂，当灵魂不在时，四肢就不再受它的支配，就如同人的尸体不受离开躯体的灵魂（尽管灵魂不朽）支配一样。虽然主权君主的权利不会因为另一个人的行为而被消灭，但臣民的义务可以被消灭。因为渴望得到保护的人可以去任何地方寻求保护，当他得到保护时，就有义务（不假装表现出他是出于害怕而臣服）尽其可能保护好他受到的保护。但是一旦一个集会的权力被镇压，其权利最后也同样完全消失。因为集会本身已经消失，进而主权就不可能再重建了。

［……］

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[1] 此处不含第18章。——原注

论黑暗王国

从空虚哲学和难以置信的经外传说而来的黑暗

哲学就是对一切事物产生的方式进行推理得到性质，或根据事物性质推理得到其可能的产生方式，最终产生在物质和人的力量允许范围内生活所需的效果。因此，几何学家从图像的结构中找出它的许多性质，从这些性质出发，通过推理得到新的构成方法，最终达到丈量土地、水域以及其他无限用途。同样，天文学家从太阳和恒星在天空中不同位置的升起、下落和运动找出产生昼夜更替、四季轮回的原因，通过这些来记录时间，并找到了类似的其他科学。

定义十分明确地告诉我们，不能把包括谨慎推测的原始知识（即所说的经验）当成哲学的任何部分；因为它不是由推理而来，在野兽和人身上都可以找到它，它仅仅是对过去发生的一连串事件的记忆，对其中极小事件的忽略就会改变结果，进而破坏谨慎推测的最终预期。然而从正确的推理中得到的不是别的，正是普遍、永恒不变的真理。

因此我们不能将任何错误结论用哲学一词冠名。因为用他理解的词语做正确推理的人永远不会得出错误结论。

任何人通过超自然启示所得到的也不能称为哲学，因为他得到的不是由推理而来。

由权威书籍进行推理所获得的也不能称为哲学，因为他所获得的不是从由因及果或由果及因的推理而来，这不是知识，仅是信仰。

推理能力是语言使用的结果，因此通过推理发现和语言本身一样古老的普遍真理不是不可能的。美洲野蛮人不是没有一些好的道德警句，此外他们也有有限的算术知识对不大的数字进行加减运算，但他们不会因此成为哲学家。早在人类以橡子和水为生时，就有少量玉米酿酒植物分散在田野和树林中，但那时人类并不懂得它们的价值，也就不会为了获取它们的营养去种植它们。同样的，从一开始就有各种正确、普遍存在并有利于人类的推理，比如自然植物，但其数量很少，而人类没有任何经验，也不懂得方法，也就是说，除了野草以及对普通植物的错误认识和猜想，他们对播种和种植完全没有认知。其原因是人们在获取生活必需品和防范邻居之外就没有休闲时间了。而当伟大的国家建立后，这一切才会改观。休闲是哲学之母，而国家是和平与休闲之母。哪里有伟大繁荣的城市，哪里就首先有哲学研究。印度秘密信仰的信奉者，波斯的魔术家、占星家，埃及和迦勒底的神父都被算作最古老的哲学家，这些国家也被列为最古老的王国。在希腊和其他西方国家（也许不比卢卡或日内瓦面积大）拥有和平之前，他们对对方充满相同恐惧，或除了观察对方而没有空闲观察其他事物时，哲学不会出现。最后，当战争使希腊这些较小城池统一成少数规模较大的城池时，才有来自希腊几个地区的七个人获得了贤人的名誉。他们中的一些人以道德和政治警句闻名，其他一些人以研究迦勒底和埃及人的学术成果，即天文学和几何学而闻名。但我们当时从未听说过任何哲学学派。

在雅典人打败了波斯军队后，获得海上统治权，进而获得了爱琴海、亚洲、欧洲所有岛屿和沿海城市的统治权，慢慢变得富有，在国内外没有工作的人无事可做，只能（如《使徒行传》第17章21节圣卢克所说）聊聊新闻，或向城市里的青年公开讲授哲学。每个大家都会为讲学找一个位置，柏拉图找了一个叫学院的公共场地，其名字源于一个雅典学园，亚里士多德在一个叫潘的庙宇里讲学，称为律西昂，有些人在拱廊、柱廊下，或商人摆地摊的走廊中讲学。有些人在另一些位置通过教学或观点争论打发他们的闲暇时光。有些人则在任何地方，只要那里能让城市中的青年聚集在一起听他们演讲。这就是卡尔涅阿德斯在罗马当使者时所做的，导致卡托建议元老院将其迅速赶走，因为他担心青年人因喜欢听卡尔涅阿德斯的美好言论（他们这样认为）而腐蚀他们的举止。

因此，他们进行授课或争论观点的任何地方都被称为学院（Schola），该词在他们口中就是休闲的意思，争论在他们口中就是讽刺，即消磨时光。哲学家们本身也以他们的学派为名，他们中有些人就是以这些学派命名的，信仰柏拉图学术的人称为学院派，亚里士多德的追随者因为他教学的走廊而称为逍遥学派（又：亚里士多德学派），那些芝诺的学徒在拱廊、柱廊中学习，则称为廊派，由于他们经常在那里聚集闲谈或闲逛，好像我们就应称他们为莫菲尔德人、保罗教堂人或交易所人。

然而人们非常喜欢这种习惯，一时间很快传播到欧洲和非洲的绝大部分地区，因此几乎这些地区的每个国家都公开建立学校并保持讲座和辩论。

古代我们的救世主时期之前和之后，犹太人中也有学派，但是是他们的法律学派。虽然它们被称为犹太教堂集会，即人民的集会。然而法律规定基本是在每个安息日进行阅读、阐释和辩论的，因此它们的本质同公开学派没有什么不同，仅仅是名字上的差异罢了。这种犹太教堂集会不仅存在于耶路撒冷，在每个犹太人居住的外邦人的城市中也都存在。在大马士革就有这样一个集会，保罗曾进去过并进行迫害。在安提阿、以哥念和塞萨洛尼卡的其他集会中，他也进去辩论过。位于利伯丁（Libertines）、科里尼亚（Cyrenians）、亚历山大（Alexandrians）、希里亚（Cilicians）和亚洲其他地区的犹太教堂集会都是如此，这就是利伯丁学派以及位于耶路撒冷以外地区犹太人的学派。正是这些学派中的人同圣司提凡进行辩论的（《使徒行传》，第6章第9节）。

但是这些学派有何用处？如今的科学究竟有多少是源自于他们的理解和辩论呢？几何学是自然科学之母，然而却不是他们所带来的科学。柏拉图是希腊数一数二的哲学家，他禁止那些不懂一定几何知识的人加入他的学派。许多人对这种科学进行研究，给人类带来了很大好处，但从未提及他们的学派，也没有几何学家的任何派别，他们也没有哲学家的头衔。这些学派的自然哲学，与科学相比简直就是做梦，他们的语言毫无意义、可有可无。如果教授哲学的人没有深厚的几何知识积累，就不能避免上述情况。因为自然通过运动而产生作用，如果没有对线、形的比例和性质的知识，就不可能知道运动的方式和程度。他们的道德哲学不过是对他们的激情的描述。因为在没有世俗政府的情况下，行为规则就是自然法则，在世俗政府之内，则是民法。这种法则决定了什么是诚实、什么是不诚实，决定了公平与不公平，决定了普遍情况下什么是善，什么是恶。鉴于他们根据自己的喜好和厌恶制定善恶的规则，然而人们的好恶各不相同，就意味着不存在普遍同意的事情，于是每个人（只要他敢）都按照他们眼中善的标准行事，直到国家颠覆。他们的逻辑应该是采用推理的方法，但实际上却是一些用来迷惑那些提出问题的人的词语和发明。总之，没有任何事比老哲学家（如西塞罗所说，他就是其中之一）都不支持的事更荒谬了。我相信在自然哲学中没有什么比亚里士多德的形而上学更荒谬的了。他在《政治学》中所说的是与政府最不相容的东西，在《伦理学》中所讲的是最无知的东西。

犹太人的学派最初是摩西律法的学派，摩西下令（《申命记》第31章第10节）每七年中的最后一年，在帐篷宴会上应向所有人宣读这律法，让他们听见并学习。因此（俘虏后）在每个安息日宣读律法除了让人们熟悉他们应该遵守的训诫和向他们解释先知的著作外，不应有其他目的。但我们的救世主对他们的许多谴责可以表明，他们用自己虚假的注释和苍白的经外传说误解了法律文本。他们对先知的了解很少，所以他们既不承认先知预言的基督，也不承认他所做的一切。因此，通过他们在犹太教堂集会中的讲座和争论，他们将法律原则变成了一种关于不可理解的上帝和灵的虚无空想的哲学。他们将最容易经过曲解而支撑他们达到目的的《圣经》模糊晦涩之处，以及他们祖先难以置信的传统混合在一起，将自己的怪想和虚无的哲学以及神学理论混合，创造出了这种虚无空想的哲学。

现在所说的大学是在一个或同一个城镇中集合起来的许多学派，在一个政府管理之下形成的组织。大学中主要学派有三个方向，即：罗马宗教、罗马法律和医学。至于哲学研究并没有什么地位，只是罗马宗教的女佣罢了。并且由于亚里士多德的权威是那里唯一盛行的学派，因此这种研究不是真正的哲学（其性质不取决于作家）而是亚里士多德学。对于几何学，由于它不屈服于任何事物而只服从严格的真理，所以直到最近为止它是完全没有地位的。如果哪个人凭借自己与生俱来的天赋在这方面取得了任何程度的完美，一般他会被认为是魔术师，他的艺术只能用恶魔般的加以形容。

现在谈论一下部分来自于亚里士多德，部分来自于盲目理解的具体虚无哲学的教义，这些教义首先传入大学，然后传入教会。我将首先讨论它们的原理。有一种其他所有哲学应该依靠的原始哲学，其主要由最普遍名称或名词意义的正确界定。这种界定是为了避免推理中的模糊和模棱两可，一般称为定义，例如物体、时间、地点、物质、形态、要素、主题、物质、偶然、权力、行为（Act）、有限、无限、量、质、运动、行为（Action）、激情和其他解释人们对物体的性质和来源所必需的多种定义。这些和类似术语的解释（就是意义的确定）作为亚里士多德哲学的一部分，在经院学派中一般称为形而上学，这就是其名称，但意义却不一样。因为那里所指的是写在或位于他自然哲学后的书籍。但是经院学派却把它们当作超自然哲学的书籍，因为形而上学可以同时拥有这两种意义。书中所写的大部分内容确实难以理解，也和自然理性存在巨大冲突以至于任何认为可以用它来理解任何事物的人必须认为它是超自然的。

从混合有《圣经》的形而上学而组成的经院学派神学来看，我们可知世界上存在某种与物体相分离的要素，它们被称为抽象本质和实体形式。要解释这个术语，在这里需要多加注意。另外，我要向不习惯这类讨论的人表示抱歉，因为我是要向那些习惯的人阐述。这个世界（我不仅仅指凡间，喜欢凡间的人是凡人，我也指整个宇宙，也就是全部存在事物的全部物质）是有形的，这就是说，是物体的，它拥有范围和大小，即：长度、宽度和深度。物体的每个部分也是物体，也有类似的范围和大小，因此宇宙中的每个部分都是物体，不是物体的东西也就不是宇宙中的一部分。因为宇宙即是所有，不是宇宙中一部分的事物即不存在，所以在任何地方都不存在。但也不能由此说灵是不存在的，因为它们也有范围和大小，因此它们是实在物体，虽然一般说话时只称可见可触的事物为物体，即有一定不透明度的物体。但对于灵来说，它们称之为无形物体，这个词语更加表示尊敬，因此可以更虔诚地形容上帝，至于上帝，我们不考虑什么词语能表明他的性质，那是不可以理解的，我们需要考虑的是用什么词能够最好地表达我们尊敬他的愿望。

为了知道他们依据什么说存在抽象本质和实体形式，我们将要考虑这些词语的确切所指。词语的使用是为了记录我们自己的想法，并向他人表明我们心中的想法和概念。有一些词语是被感知事物的名称，正如作用于感官并在我们的想象中留下一个印象的各种物体的名词。另外一些词语是关于想象本身的，这就是说，是关于我们所见或记忆中所有事物的观念或大脑中的图像。另外一些是名词的名词，或不同种类语言的名词。例如：普遍、复数、单数，都是名词的名词，定义、肯定、否定、真、假、三段论、讯问、承诺、协议，都是某些语言形式的名词。另一些词则用来表示一个名词和另一个名词间的推论或抵触关系。例如当一个人说：“人是一种物体”时，他指的是物体这一名词是人这一名词出现后出现的，是同一事物——人所对应的许多名词中的一个名词。它们之间的推论是由“Is”（是）这个字联结起来的。和我们用“Is”（是）字一样，拉丁人用他们的动词“Est”（是），希腊人用Eσu的各种变化来联结。我不知道世界上所有其他国家是否有他们的语言来表示这个字，但是我肯定他们不需要这种字，因为将两个名词按照一定顺序放在一起，符合他们的习惯，就可以像“Is”、“Bee”或“Are”一样表示词语之间的关系了（因为正是习惯给予了词语力量）。

假设有一种语言没有对应Est、Is或Bee的任何动词，而使用这种语言的人进行推测、总结和各种推理的能力一点不比希腊和拉丁人差。如此一来，从它派生以及根据这些词语而来的最常使用的更多词语，例如实体、本质、必须、必须性，是什么呢？因此它们不是事物的名称，而是一个我们所知的符号，用它表示我们设想中一个名词或限定性词语对另一个词语的推论关系。例如，当我们说“人是一个活着的物体”时，并不表示人是一个东西，而活着的物体是另一种东西，Is（是）或Beeing（是）又是另一种东西。我们的意思是，人和活着的物体是一回事。因为“如果他是人，那么他就是一个活着的物体”是用Is（是）表示的真实正确的推论。因此，成为一个物体、走路、说话、生活、看见以及类似不定式同有形、行走、讲话、视力等类似名词所指的相同，正如我在其他地方更加充分表述的一样，都是无所指的名词。

但是（可能有人会说），在这种类型的著作中，我只意在说明政府和服从学说的必要内容，把书弄得如此微妙难懂是什么目的呢？我写书的目的就是让人们不再受他们的折磨，建立在亚里士多德虚无哲学基础上的独立本质的教义，用毫无意义的名词让人们受到惊吓，进而不服从他们国家的法律。就像人们用一件空的紧身上衣、一顶帽子和一个弯曲的棍子吓唬鸟类，不让它们接近谷物一样。因此基于这一点，当人死去并下葬后，他们说他的灵魂（即他的生命）会从他的身体中脱离并独立行走，夜晚在墓地中可以看见。基于同一点他们说，一片面包的形状、颜色和味道在不存在面包的地方也存在。同样，信念、智慧和其他美德有时是从天上灌输进人体的，而有时是吹进去的，好像品德高尚的人和他们所具有的品德可以分成很多部分一样，还有其他许多东西用来削弱臣民对他们国家主权者的依赖。如果一个人希望“服从”能被灌输或吹进他的体内，那么还有谁会遵守法律呢？谁不会去服从可以创造上帝的司祭，而服从统治者和上帝本身呢？那些害怕鬼魂的人谁不会对那些能够制造圣水并将鬼魂赶出他们体内的人怀有极大尊敬呢？这些例子就足以说明亚里士多德的实体和本质能给教会带来多大错误。可能他知道这是虚假哲学，但害怕苏格拉底的命运，因此仍然将它作为符合且确证他们宗教的东西写出来。

一旦陷入独立本质的错误，他们就会被卷入随之而来的许多其他荒谬之中。由于他们把这些形式看成是真实的，他们就有义务给它们安排一些空间。但由于他们认为这些东西是无形的，不存在任何范围和大小，并且所有人都知道空间就是范围和大小，只能用有形的事物填满，这样他们就被迫用一个区别来支撑他们的信用，说他们事实上在任何地方都没有界限，而限定的词语仅仅是文字而已，这些文字在这种情形下毫无意义，只在能够隐藏他们虚无性的拉丁语中产生作用。因为一个事物的界限除了它本身空间的测定和规定外什么都不是，因此做出区分的两个词语就是一样的。尤其是他们说人的本质就是他的灵魂，他们确定灵魂的全部都在他的小指上，也存在于他身体的其他每个部分（不论多小），整个身体中的灵魂并不比身体任何一部分中的灵魂多。有谁会认为上帝相信这种荒谬之言呢？但是那些认为躯体之外存在与躯体分离的灵魂的人则必须相信它。

当要他们讲述无形实体如何经受痛苦，如何经受地狱之火和炼狱的折磨时，他们却无言以答，只能说他们不知道火焰如何烧毁灵魂。

再者，由于运动是空间的改变，而无形实体是不具有空间的，因此他们很难将如下事情变成似乎具有可能性：灵魂如何能够离开身体去往天堂、地狱或炼狱；人的鬼魂（我可以加上它们出现时穿的衣服）如何能于夜间在教堂、教堂庭院和其他墓地徘徊。我不知道他们能否回答这些问题，除非他们说它们是在限定地行走而不是受界限地行走，是它们的灵在行走而不是躯体在行走。因为这种牵强无理的区别对任何难题都同样适用。

关于永恒的意义，他们不将它看作是时间的无穷延续。因为这样他们就不能说出为什么上帝意图以及对即将发生的事物的规定，不发生在他对相同事物的预知之前，如同有效原因出现在结果之前或行为人出现在行为发生之前；关于不可理解的上帝本质的大胆观点，他们也不能给出理由。但是他们会告诉我们，永恒是时间的停滞，即停顿的现在（经院学派如此称呼），他们和其他人都不理解，最多用“停顿的现在”表示空间的无限广阔。

人们在内心通过对各部分进行计数来划分一个物体，对这些部分进行计数时，也就对这些部分填充的空间进行了计数。因此在设计这些部分时，我们只有同时设计出这些部分需要的空间。所以，任何人都不能想象出比所需空间更多或更少的部分。但是他们会让我们相信，通过上帝的全能，一个物体可以在同一时刻出现在很多地方，许多物体也可以在同一时刻出现在同一个地方。仿佛是说，承认了神圣的能力，可以使存在的东西不存在，曾经存在的东西并不存在。这只是他们对本应怀有崇敬和爱慕的神和不可理解的自然在哲学上争辩而必然产生不一致的一小部分。这些定语不能说明神是什么，但应该用我们能够想到的最好的称呼表达我们尊敬他的愿望。但是那些冒险从这些尊敬定语中对他的本质进行推理的人，在最开始就失去了他们的理解，陷入无穷无尽的困境之中。就像一个疏于朝堂礼仪的人遇见了一个比他通常打交道的更伟大的人时，在门口就跌跌撞撞，想要稳住身体不跌倒，衣服却滑落下来；穿上衣服时，帽子又掉了，混乱的情况一个接一个，他才会发现自己的惊慌失措。

下面说物理学，它是对自然事件从属或低一级原因的知识。他们除了一些空话什么都没有提出来。如果你想知道为什么某种物体会自然地朝地面掉落，而其他物体则自然地上升，经院学派就会根据亚里士多德的理论，告诉你掉落的物体是重的，正是物体的重量导致了它们掉落。但是如果你问他们重量是什么意思，他们就会将其定义为朝着地心运动的努力。因此物体下落的原因就是一种要处在下面的努力。这就是说，物体下落或上升的原因是它们要这么做。或者他们会告诉你地心是重的物体的休息和存放处，因此它们努力到那里。就像石头和金属如同人类一样拥有欲望，可以辨认它们将要去的地方，或者它们喜欢休息而人类不喜欢，又或者一片安装在窗户上的玻璃还没有掉到街上安全。

如果我们要知道为什么同一个物体（不给它增加什么的情况下）在某个时候看上去比其他时候更大，他们说，当它看上去小一些的时候，是因为它凝缩了；当它看上去大一些的时候，是因为它变稀薄了。什么是凝缩和稀薄呢？凝缩就是同一物质比之前质量减轻了，而稀薄就是质量相比之前增加了。就像存在一种没有确定质量的物质，质量不是别的，只是物质的确定。这就是说，我们以此说一个物体比另一个物体大（多）或小（少）。或者好像一个物体在被创造出来时根本没有质量，之后再根据人们希望物体密度更大或更小而多加或少加一些东西。

至于人类灵魂的成因，他们说，通过加入而创造和通过创造而加入。

而感觉的原因，就是个体的普遍性，即物体的显现或幻影。当幻影被眼睛看见时，就是视觉，当它被耳朵听见时，就是听觉，能被舌头品味时，就是味觉，被鼻子嗅出时，就是嗅觉，被身体其他部分感觉到时，就是感觉。

对于意志——即进行特定行为的意愿，形成的原因，他们把其归因于能力，即人类普遍拥有的有时想做一件事，有时又想做另一件事的能力，这就是所说的意图。这就把能力当成了行为的原因，就像一个人把人们的善行与恶行归因于他们具备行善与作恶的能力。

在很多情况下，他们把自己的无知当成了自然事件的原因，但却用其他词语进行掩盖。就像他们说，运气是偶然事件发生的原因，而偶然事件就是他们不知道发生原因的事件。他们还把许多结果归因于超自然神秘性质：即他们不知道的性质，因此（如他们所想）其他人也同样不知道。他们还把许多结果归因于同情、反感、相反特性、特殊素养和其他类似词语，它们既不表示产生它们的人，也不表示它们产生所依赖的操作。

如果这种形而上学和物理学不是虚无哲学，那么就不存在任何虚无哲学，圣保罗也不需要警告我们避免它了。

至于他们的道德和世俗哲学，也是一样或更加荒谬。如果一个人做了非正义行为，就是说，与法律相冲突的行为，他们就说上帝是法律产生的最初原因，也是这一行为和其他所有行为的最初原因，但肯定不是非正义行为——即不遵守法律行为的最初原因。这就是虚无哲学。人们同样可以说，一个人既画了一条直线，又画了一条弯曲的线，这是其他人造成的不协调。这就是在知道前提之前，预先得出结论的所有人的哲学。他们假装能够理解不可能理解的事，把尊敬的定语说成本质的定语，因为这一区别是用作保持自由意志教义的，即人不服从上帝意志的意志。

亚里士多德和其他异教哲学家根据人的欲望定义善恶。只要我们认为他们是根据自己的法则统治所有人，这样就很好。因为如果人们除了自己的欲望之外就没有其他法则，那么就不可能存在善行与恶行的法则。但是在一个国家中，这个衡量标准是错误的，个人的行为不能成为衡量标准，作为衡量标准的应是法律，即国家的意志和欲望。而这一教条并没有得到贯彻实施，人们还是根据自身的激情判断自己的善恶、判断他人和国家行为的善恶。人们完全不考虑公共法律，而是根据自己的看法称为善或恶。不只是发过誓必须无条件遵守上级的僧侣和助理僧侣，每个臣民都应认为自己受到自然法则的约束而服从世俗主权者。这种关于善的个人衡量标准不仅是虚无的教义，也是对公共国家的危害。

认为婚姻与贞节或节欲存在冲突，因此把它们当成道德罪行的说法也是虚无和虚假哲学。这些人以贞节和节欲为由不许教士结婚。他们坦白，以贞节、节欲和纯洁为名义，要求祭坛侍者和圣礼管理者一直和女人保持距离，而这只是教会的一项制度。他们把夫妻合法同居称为无贞节以及非节欲行为，因此人们将婚姻当成一种罪，至少是一点儿都不纯洁、不干净的东西，所以这些人是不适合作为祭坛侍者的。如果法律是因为夫妻同居是非节欲、有违贞节而制定，那么所有婚姻都是罪恶的。如果对于献身上帝的人来说这是一件十分肮脏的事情，那么做更多自然、必要和日常工作的所有人都不配成为司祭，因为他们更不干净。

制定禁止司祭结婚规定的秘密基础不是轻而易举的事情，它不会依据道德哲学的这种错误，也不会依据相比婚姻生活更愿独自生活而制定此规。后者从圣保罗的智慧而来，他意识到在福音传播者受迫害的时期，他们被迫从一个国家到另一个国家传教，照顾妻儿是多么不方便的一件事。该规定的制定是依据教皇们和后来的司祭们把自己变成牧师，也就是在这个世界上上帝王国唯一继承人的企图，对于上帝王国，有必要让他们远离婚姻，因为我们的救世主说过，他的王国来到之际，上帝的子民们既不能迎娶，也不能出嫁，而应像天上的天使一样，也就是说，成为灵。既然他们已经以灵之名自称，那么（在不需要时）允许自己拥有妻子就是一件不协调、不一致的事情。

他们从亚里士多德的世俗哲学中学到，除了平民国家以外的所有国家（例如当时的雅典）都称为暴政国家。他们称所有国王为暴君，由征服他们的拉塞得孟尼人建立的三十个贵族统治者被称为三十暴君。他们把民主之下人们的状况称为自由。暴君最初所指不过是君王，但在希腊大部分地区的这种政府被废除之后，暴君一词在原本拥有的意义之外，还有平民国家对其的憎恨。就像在罗马废除国王后，国王一词便为人们所憎恨。因为对所有人来说，用带有鄙视意义的词形容强大敌人的巨大过错是十分自然的事情。当同一些人对民主统治或贵族统治不满时，他们不用寻找一些臭词表达愤怒，而是用现成的词：无政府状态来表达，并把另一个称为寡头统治或少数人的暴政统治。侵犯人民的不是其他，是他们并不是按照每个人希望的方式被统治，而是作为公共代表，不论是一个人还是大会全体认为合适的方式被统治，即受一个专制政府的统治。他们因此骂他们的上级，从不知道（也许在内战之后会知道一点点）如果没有这样的专制政府，这种战争将会永远继续下去，他们认识到，是人和武力使法律具有力量和权力，而不是语言和承诺。

因此亚里士多德的政治学中有另一个错误，即：在秩序井然的国家里，进行统治的不是人，而应是法律。一个具有正常感觉的人，尽管他不能读写，但怎么会看不到他受着自己惧怕、并相信在他不服从时会被伤害或杀害的人们统治呢？谁会相信在语言和文字的背后没有权力之手和权力之剑在操纵呢？这是有毒害的错误之一，因为这些错误诱导人们在不喜欢他们的统治者时，就依附于称统治者为暴君的人，并认为对这些暴君发动战争进行反抗是合法的。而牧师有时却在讲坛上宣扬珍视这些错误。

他们的世俗哲学中还有另一个错误，这一错误既不是从亚里士多德、西塞罗，也不是从其他任何异教徒那里学到的，即尽管人们的语言和行为都符合规范，却通过对他们所持信仰进行检查和质询，把仅是行为规则的法律权威扩展到每个人的思想和良心。如此一来，人们不是由于回答了他们的真实思想而受惩罚，就是因为害怕惩罚而不吐真情。的确，当一个世俗管理者想雇用一个传教的官员时，可以询问他是否愿意传此教义，如果他拒绝，就可以不雇用他。但是当他的行为并不为法律所禁止时，强迫他控诉自己的观点是违背自然法则的，特别是喜欢说教的那些人，如果一个人对基督教信仰的条目具有错误见解，那么这个人应该受到永远、极度的痛苦折磨。如果一个人知道犯这种错危险如此之大，他又与生俱来就关心自己，为什么不让自己的灵魂根据自己的判断去尝试，而要根据任何其他不关心自己罪行的人的判断行动呢？

对于一个平民来说，他没有国家的权力，就是说，没有代表国家的人允许他按照自己的精神解释法律，这就是政治学中的另一个错误，但是这个错误既不来自亚里士多德，也不是自其他任何异教徒哲学家而来。因为他们没有一个人否认制定法律的权力中含有在他们认为需要时解释法律的权力。《圣经》中所有有法律的地方都是由国家的权力制定的法律，因此，《圣经》难道就不是法律的一部分吗？

还有同一种错误，即除主权者外，任何人限制他人拥有国家没有限制的权力。例如，让凡夫俗子向法律给予其自由的人传教是不合适的。如果国家让我传教或讲道，即如果国家没有禁止我，那么就没有人能够禁止我。如果我发现自己身处美洲的偶像崇拜者中，作为一个基督徒，虽然我没有从事司祭一职，我也应认为在收到罗马命令之前传播基督教是一种罪。在我开始传教后，难道我不能解答他们的疑惑并向他们解释《圣经》吗？或者说，难道我不能传教吗？但针对这一点有些人可能会说，如同为他们进行圣礼，必要性必须建立在一个具有足够说服力的任务上，这是正确的。但还有另外一件事也是正确的，对任何事来说，在必要时就宽免，当没有法律禁止它时，就不需要宽免。因此，否定世俗主权者没有否定的职能就是剥夺了合法的自由，这同世俗政府的教义相矛盾。

由经院神学博士们引入的虚无哲学的例子不止这些。其他人如果愿意可以自己去看。我只想补充的是，经院神学的作品大部分是无足轻重的一串串奇怪和粗野之词，要不就是不同于通用拉丁语的词语，这样就能向西塞罗、法罗和所有古罗马文法家进行炫耀。如果谁想要证明真实与否，可以让他（如我之前所说）看看自己能否将任何经院神学作品翻译成任何现代语言，例如法语和英语，或任何其他丰富的语言。因为如果大部分内容不能让人理解的话，用拉丁语表达也不能让人理解。这种毫无意义的语言，虽然我不能说它是伪哲学，但它具有隐藏真理、让人们认为他们已经得到真理而不坚持深入研究的性质。

最后，从虚假或不确定的历史而来的错误，这是圣人生活中虚构奇迹的传说。罗马教会博士根据幽灵和鬼魂的历史声称他们对地域、炼狱和驱魔的作用，还有在理性和《圣经》中没有依据的作用。他们还把所有那些传统称为未记录的上帝语言，但那些仅仅是愚蠢的传说。尽管这些传统也分散于古代神父的著作中，但那些神父也是人，也可能轻易相信虚假传说，并提出观点说明他们相信的东西是真理，（依据圣约翰的建议）检查灵的人（见《圣约翰书信》第4章，第1节）其作用仅仅是对有关罗马教会权力的所有事情（这种滥用不是他们没有产生怀疑就是通过权力获益），因为草率地相信传说而怀疑不信任他们的证据。最真诚的人，如果他没有关于自然原理的大量知识（例如神父们就是这样），他们一般就很容易草率地相信传说。因为从本质上讲，最本分的人最不会怀疑其具有欺骗目的。教皇格雷戈里和圣伯纳德有一些鬼魂幽灵之说，说他们在炼狱中，我国的贝达也有类似之说；但是我相信这些传说只是从其他人那里听说的。但如果他们或其他任何人依据自己的知识讲述任何类似故事，他们最多也只能确认这些是虚无的传说，却能发现他们的弱点或欺诈。

介绍了虚无哲学，我们还可以讲一下被那些既没有合法权威也没有足够学识来对真理进行判断的人压制的真正哲学。我们的方向表明，所有精通人类科学的人现在都承认有恰好相反的事物。随着时间一天天流逝，其表现得越来越清楚，每一日和年的变化是由于地球运动决定的。然而，人们在他们的著作中只是假定了这一推论，并为支持和反对意见敞开大门，就受到了教会的惩罚。但这样做的理由是什么呢？是因为这样的观点违背真正的宗教吗？如果这些意见是正确的，就不可能如此。因此，就让有资格的评判员首先对其进行检查吧，或者让那些假装知道相反观点的人去驳斥吧。是因为它们违反既有宗教吗？就让它们在教授这些传教者们的君主的法律，即在世俗法律下沉默吧。因为即使是教授真正哲学的人违反法律时，也可以合法地惩罚他们。是因为它们赞同叛乱或骚乱而使政府陷于混乱吗？就让那些负责公共秩序的人，即世俗权威用他们的权力惩罚这些人，让他们安静吧。因为教会权力会（在他们服从国家的任何地方）用自己的权力谋取权力，虽然他们称之为上帝的权力，但实际上是篡夺。

由这种黑暗而来的利益及其归属

西塞罗怀着崇敬的心情提到一位叫卡西的严厉的罗马法官，因为卡西在处理犯罪案件时有一套惯例，即（当目击人不能提供充分证据时）询问原告，这就是说，被告方因被起诉事件获得了或期望获得什么利益、荣誉或其他满足。因为在推测中，没有什么比获得利益的行为更能清晰地说明当事人的问题。在此，我想以同样规则检查，是什么人用这些与人类和平社会相违背的教义让这一部分基督教国家的人民误信了如此之久。

首先，有一种错误，即：目前地球上的教会激进分子就是上帝王国（即荣耀之国、乐土，而不是恩泽之国，这只是应许之地）与尘世利益相连。第一，教会的牧师和传教者作为上帝公使，有权利管理教会。因此（由于教会和国家是相同人格）他们就成为国家的长官和统治者。既有这一头衔，教皇就说服所有基督教信徒相信违背他的旨意就是违背基督教本身。其他基督教信徒若与他有任何分歧（受到灵权的迷惑）就要放弃服从他们的合法统治者，这事实上就是统治整个基督教世界的君王。因为尽管最初是基督教皇以及罗马帝国允许（他们承认这一点）授予他们为世俗国家的官员最高祭司长，享有基督教义最高教授者的权利，但在经过分裂和解体后，就不难在已经臣服于他们的人们身上强加上另一个称为圣彼得权利的头衔。这不仅是保护他们号称的所有权力，也要把同样权力拓展到其他基督教省份中去，虽然这些省份已经不联合在罗马帝国中了。这种普遍君主制的利益（考虑到人们对统治的渴望）就是一个充分的推测，号称具有普遍统治权并长期享有它的教皇就是此教义的创造者，他以此获得了统治权，这一教义就是：目前地球上的教会就是基督王国。因为承认了这一点，就必须要承认基督在我们中间有一些助理人员，基督通过他们向我们传达他的指令。

在一些教会否认了教皇的普遍统治权后，人们就有理由推测，在所有这些教会中的世俗主权者们应该收回他们之前不慎从自己手中让出的权力。在英格兰事实就是这样，只不过国王任命管理教区政府的人坚持他们是上帝任命的，既没有篡夺最高统治权，也独立于世俗权力之外。他们似乎是在承认国王可以任意剥夺他们行使职责的情况下，才发起篡夺。

但是在长老会掌权的地方，虽然禁止教授许多其他罗马教会的教义，然而基督王国的教义已经来到，其开始于我们的救世主复活之时的教义仍然被保存着。但是“对谁有利”呢？他们希望从中获得什么利益呢？教皇也希望如此：对人民拥有统治权。但是人们除了把他们的合法君主开除出教会，进而让他在自己的王国远离所有公共祭神职位，并且在他用暴力试图重获职位时能用暴力阻止他之外，还为了什么呢？在不顾世俗统治者的权力，将任何一个人开除出教会，剥夺他的合法自由、篡夺一种统治他们兄弟的非法权力之外，还为了什么呢？因此，宗教黑暗的创造者就是罗马教会和长老会教士。

在此之下，我也要提及帮助他们在获得灵的统治权之后，保持灵的统治权的教义。第一种说法是：“教皇在他的公职上不会犯错。”因为相信这一点的人，谁不会时刻听候他的命令呢？

第二种说法是，不管在什么国家，所有其他大主教的权力既不是从上帝那里直接获得的，也不是从他们的世俗统治者那里间接获得的，而是从教皇那里得来的。基于这种教义，每个基督教国家里都有很多有权势的人（主教就是这类人），他们依赖于教皇，服从教皇，虽然他是一个外国君主。通过这种方式，他就有能力（就像他多次所做的那样）针对不根据他的喜好和利益进行统治的国家发起内战。

第三种说法是，其他所有司祭、修道士和辅助修士都可以从民法权力中得到豁免。因为通过这种方式，每个国家的大部分人都能享受到法律的益处，并且受到世俗国家权力的保护，却不用支付任何公共开支，也不会像其他臣民一样因为犯罪而受到惩罚。因此，他们除了教皇之外谁都不怕，并且他们只依附于教皇，支持他的普遍君权。

第四种说法是，给予司祭们（在《新约》中就是长老的意思）司祭的称谓，上帝是他们的国王时，在犹太人中，这一称谓就是世俗统治者和公共牧师的头衔。此外，将主的晚餐作为祭祀，让人们相信教皇对所有基督徒都有摩西和艾伦对犹太人拥有的权力，这就是说，大司祭当时拥有世俗和神的一切权力。

第五种说法是，婚姻是一件圣事，给予了神职人员判断婚姻合法性的职责，继而认定哪些后代是合法的，再进一步认定谁具有王国的继承权。

第六种说法是，拒绝承认司祭的婚姻可以保证教皇对国王的权力。因为，如果一个国王是司祭的话，他就不能结婚，不能将其王国传给他的后代。如果一个国王不是司祭，那么教皇就会对国王和他的臣民行使神权。

第七种说法是，从秘密忏悔中他们可以获得比关于教会图谋情报更有价值的，关于国王和世俗国家大人物密谋的情报，并以此保证他们的权力。

第八种说法是，通过将圣人经典化并宣布谁是殉道者来保证他们的权力。如果教皇通过驱逐出教会来宣布他们是异教徒或教会的敌人，即（根据他们的解释）教皇的敌人，他们就可以引诱头脑简单的人们用生命同世俗统治者进行顽强抵抗。

第九种说法是，通过给予每个司祭传播基督教义、聆听忏悔和宽恕及封存罪来保证自己的权力。

第十种说法是，通过炼狱教义、借口外部工作以及放纵，神职人员变得更加富裕。

第十一种说法是，通过鬼神学和驱邪术以及其他相关东西，他们让（或者他们自以为让）人民对他们的权力更加畏惧。

最后一种说法是，大学（全部是由教皇权力建立和管理）里教授的亚里士多德的形而上学、伦理学和政治学，草率的区分、粗俗的术语和经院学者的晦涩语言，使他们的错误不被发现，并让人们把虚无哲学的鬼火误当作福音的光芒。

如果以上这些还不充分，我还可以补充他们的其他黑暗学说，其好处在于对建立凌驾于基督教人们合法统治之上的非法权力有助益，或者对建立起的权力的维持有益，或者对维持这种权力的人的世俗财富、荣誉和权威有益。因此根据之前所说的“对谁有利”的规则，我们可以公正地宣布，教皇、罗马神职人员和其他所有试图在人们心中建立这种错误学说，即：当前世界上的教会就是《旧约》和《新约》中他提到的上帝王国，这些人就是所有灵的黑暗。

但是在皇帝以及其他基督主权者的政府之下，这些错误和教会职责的侵犯，先是悄悄混进并扰乱了他们的财产和臣民的安宁。虽然他们因为缺少对后果的预见、对传道士阴谋的洞悉而受到同样的损害，但也可以认为是他们使自己和大众受到了损失。因为没有他们的允许，最初煽动之说就不可能公开传播。我说他们在开始时就可以阻止这些言论的传播。但是人们的心一旦被那些宗教人士占据，任何人都没有办法进行补救。上帝在对人类反对真理的所有阴谋进行及时摧毁上从未失败，我们只需等待上帝在愿意时提供补救办法。上帝很多时候都容忍敌人和他们的野心膨胀到一定高度，让产生的这种暴力打开前辈因为戒心封住的眼睛，并让人们因贪求太多而一无所获，就像彼得渔网中的鱼太多，一阵挣扎后弄破了渔网。然而那些没有耐心的人，在他们臣民的眼睛打开之前就力争抵抗这种侵占，却增加了他们所要抵抗的力量。因此我不责备腓特烈大帝为我国哈德良教皇执掌马鞭，因为当时他的臣民的意向安排就是如此，如果他没有那么做，他就不可能继承帝国。但是我要谴责的那些人的权力在开始是完整的，由于在属于他们领域的大学内伪造出这些学说，当继位教皇们登上所有基督教主权者的王座，任意践踏他们和他们的人民时，他们就不得不为这些人执掌马鞭。

人们内心捏造的东西是如何编织而成的，也可以以同样方式解开，其方法是相同的，只不过顺序就颠倒了。这个网最初由权力的要素构成：智慧、谦恭、真诚和使徒的其他美德。人们皈依、服从使徒是出于尊敬而不是义务。他们的良知是自由的，他们的语言、行动只臣服于民权。后来长老们（随着基督教徒的增加）聚集在一起考虑他们应该教授什么，并遵守不教授任何与他们会议规定相悖内容的原则，让人们因此认为有义务遵守他们的教义。如果当他们拒绝，就拒绝与他们为伍（当时这被称为开除教籍）。这不是因为把他们当作不信仰宗教的人，而是因为把他们当作不遵守的人而拒绝与他们为伍。这是在他们的自由之上打的第一个结。长老越来越多，主要城市或主要区域的长老们就拥有了掌管较小区域长老的权力，并恰如其分地给自己加上主教的称谓，这是在基督徒的自由之上打的第二个结。最后，罗马的主教因为皇城的关系，就自然而然拥有了掌管整个帝国其他所有主教的权力（这一部分是皇帝自身的意志，一部分是最高司祭长的称谓，最后当皇帝变弱时，就通过圣彼得的特权获得）。这就是第三个，也是最后一个结，也是教皇权力的全部综合和结构。

因此要通过同样方式来分析或解决，但是要从最后打的结着手，就像我们看到的英格兰高于政治的教会政府的解体一样。首先，伊丽莎白女王解除了教皇的权力。之前主教依据教皇的权力行使职权，而现在则要依据女王及其继承者的权力行使职权。他们仅仅是通过保留“按照天律”的说法，才被认为是直接接受上帝权力的命令。这样第一个结就打开了。之后，英格兰的长老们最近推翻了主教制度。这样就打开了第二个结。几乎与此同时，长老们的权力也被解除了。因此我们又回到了独立原始基督教徒的身份，去自由追随他们最喜欢的任何人，如保罗、矶法、阿波罗。如果这样没有竞争，不根据我们对牧师感情来衡量基督教义（使徒曾经在《哥林多后书》中斥责过这种错误）也许是最好的。第一，除了福音，不应有任何权力凌驾于人类良知之上，使道德信仰作用在每个人身上的并不永远根据种植浇灌它的人的目的，而是根据让它生长的上帝的目的。第二，有人教授说每个小错误中都蕴藏着大危险，就要求拥有理性的人接受其他任何人的理由或人群中的多数声音，这对他们来说是不合理的，这比他拿在十字架上的救赎来冒险好不了多少。而传教士们也不应因为失去了古时的权力而不高兴；因为谁都没有他们清楚，权力要靠获得权力的美德保持，即通过：智慧、谦恭、明晰教义和对话时的真诚来保持权力。依靠压制自然科学和自然理性的道德是不能使权力得到保持的。通过模糊的语言、妄称自己学富五车也不能保持权力；通过装神弄鬼的欺诈也不能保持权力。也不能用其他错误，比如对教会牧师而言不仅是错误，更是丑闻，当人们镇压他们的权力后迟早会摔跤的错误来保持权力。

但是在世界接受了现今激进的教会也就是《圣经》新约和旧约中所说的上帝王国的说法后，获得属于这些方面职位的渴望，尤其是基督助理人员这一伟大职位和获得了主要公共职位的人的渴望逐渐变得那么明显以至于失去了牧师职责拥有的内心尊敬。因为世俗国家中，那些拥有所有权力的人中最聪明的人，只需要获得君主的同意就可以不再进一步服从君主。自从罗马主教不得不承认自称是圣彼得继承人为最高主教之后，他们整个集团，或称之为黑暗王国，就可以被不恰当地同精灵王国作比较；也就是同英格兰老妇们所说的关于魔鬼和精灵在夜间闹鬼的传说作比较。如果一个人要探究这个伟大教会国家的起源，那么他很容易就能感觉到，教皇职位不过是死去的罗马帝国的鬼魂戴着皇冠坐在坟墓上而已。因为教皇职位也是突然从异教权的废墟上出现的。

他们在教会和公共法令中使用的拉丁语，目前在世界上任何国家都不是常用语言，这不是古罗马语言的鬼魂又是什么呢？

无论哪个国家的精灵，都只有一个普遍国王，我们的一些诗人称之为奥伯伦王，但是《圣经》中称为别西卜——恶魔之王。同样，无论教士在谁的领土内，只承认一个普遍国王，即教皇。

教士们是精神上的人，是鬼的神父。精灵和魔鬼居住在黑暗、偏僻的地方或墓地中。而教士们行走于晦涩的教义、修道院、教会和庭院中。

教士们有他们自己的大教堂，无论它们建立在哪个城镇中，通过圣水之德以及称为驱魔的某种魔力，就有力量将这些城镇变为城市，也就是帝国都城。精灵们也有它们拥有魔法的城堡，一些巨大的魔鬼主宰着城堡周围地区。

精灵们不会被抓起来讯问它们造成的伤害。因此教士们也从民事法庭上消失了。

教士们运用结合有形而上学、奇异之事、传说和滥改过的《圣经》的一些魔力带走了年轻人对理智的运用，教士们这么做并不为其他，只是让年轻人按照他们的命令行事。同样，据说精灵们将小孩儿从摇篮中带走，把他们变成天然傻瓜，因此一般人称他们为小“妖精”，经常搞恶作剧。

精灵在什么魔法店或操作室中施展魔法，老妇人们也不确定。但是教士的操作室则非常有名，就是人们从教皇权威那里接受他们教义的大学。

当精灵对任何人感到不满时，据说他们会派小“妖精”给他们点儿教训。当教士们对世俗国家感到不满时，也会派他们的小“妖精”，即迷信和受迷惑的臣民，通过宣传蛊惑言论给他们的君主一点儿教训，或让一个被承诺迷惑的君主去教训另一个君主。

精灵不会结婚，但是它们中间存在梦淫妖和有血有肉的凡人交配。教士也不结婚。

教士们通过对他们无比崇敬的无知之人的捐赠和什一税搜刮土地。在关于精灵的传说中，它们也进入牛奶厂，从牛奶中吸取奶油，饱餐一顿。

精灵王国使用何种钱币，精灵的传说故事中并没有记载。然而尽管教士们付钱时，是通过宣圣、赦免和弥撒的方式进行的，但他们在收钱时使用的却是和我们一样的钱币。

对于这一点以及存在于教皇和精灵王国之间的相似点，还可以进行补充，即：由于精灵不存在，而老妇人或老诗人的神话仅存在于无知之人的印象中，因此教皇的神权（在他自身世俗领土范围之外）仅存在于听到虚假传奇、虚假传说和对《圣经》的错误解释后，害怕被开除教籍的被迷惑的人心中。

因此，对亨利八世和伊丽莎白女王来说，分别用他们的符咒把他们赶走就不是一件非常困难的事了。但是谁又知道罗马之灵现在已经出去，在中国、日本、印度等干旱贫瘠的土地上传教，没有回来的可能，甚至带来大量比他还坏的灵，进入并居住在打扫干净的房子里，使得结果比最初更糟呢？因为现在不仅仅只有罗马教士假称上帝王国存在于世，并以此从中获得一种不同于世俗国家权力的另一种权力。关于政治学学说，以上就是我想讲的所有内容。在我审阅修改之后，会在本国公开，接受批评改正。

Thomas Hobbes

Of Man

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

The Introduction

Nature （the Art whereby God hath made and governes the World） is by the Art of man，as in many other things，so in this also imitated，that it can make an Artificial Animal．For seeing life is but a motion of Limbs，the begining whereof is in some principall part within；why may we not say，that all Automata （Engines that move themselves by springs and wheeles as doth a watch） have an artificiall life？For what is the Heart，but a Spring；and the Nerves，but so many Strings；and the Joynts，but so many Wheeles，giving motion to the whole Body，such as was intended by the Artificer？Art goes yet further，imitating that Rationall and most excellent worke of Nature，Man．For by Art is created that great Leviathan called a Common-wealth，or State，（in latine Civitas） which is but an Artificiall Man；though of greater stature and strength than the Naturall，for whose protection and defence it was intended；and in which，the Soveraignty is an Artificiall Soul，as giving life and motion to the whole body；The Magistrates，and other Officers of Judicature and Execution，artificiall Joynts；Reward and Punishment （by which fastned to the seate of the Soveraignty，every joynt and member is moved to performe his duty） are the Nerves，that do the same in the Body Naturall；The Wealth and Riches of all the particular members，are the Strength；Salus Populi （the peoples safety） its Businesse；Counsellors，by whom all things needfull for it to know，are suggested unto it，are the Memory；Equity and Lawes，an artificiall Reason and Will；Concord，Health；Sedition，Sickness；and Civill war，Death．Lastly，the Pacts and Covenants，by which the parts of this Body Politique were at first made，set together，and united，resemble that Fiat，or the Let us make man，pronounced by God in the Creation．

To describe the Nature of this Artificiall man，I will consider

First，the Matter thereof，and the Artificer；both which is Man．

Secondly，How，and by what Covenants it is made；what are the Rights and just Power or Authority of a Soveraigne；and what it is that preserveth and dissolveth it．

Tirdly，what is a Christian Common-wealth．

Lastly，what is the Kingdome of Darkness．

Concerning the first，there is a saying much usurped of late，That Wisedome is acquired，not by reading of Books，but of Men．Consequently whereunto，those persons，that for the most part can give no other proof of being wise，take great delight to shew what they think they have read in men，by uncharitable censures of one another behind their backs．But there is another saying not of late understood，by which they might learn truly to read one another，if they would take the pains；and that is，Nosce teipsum，Read thy self：which was not meant，as it is now used，to countenance，either the barbarous state of men in power，towards their inferiors；or to encourage men of low degree，to a sawcie behaviour towards their betters；But to teach us，that for the similitude of the thoughts，and Passions of one man，to the thoughts，and Passions of another，whosoever looketh into himself，and considereth what he doth，when he does think，opine，reason，hope，feare，＆c，and upon what grounds；he shall thereby read and know，what are the thoughts，and Passions of all other men，upon the like occasions．I say the similitude of Passions，which are the same in all men，desire，feare，hope，＆c；not the similitude of the objects of the Passions，which are the things desired，feared，hoped，＆c：for these the constitution individuall，and particular education do so vary，and they are so easie to be kept from our knowledge，that the characters of mans heart，blotted and confounded as they are，with dissembling，lying，counterfeiting，and erroneous doctrines，are legible onely to him that searcheth hearts．And though by mens actions wee do discover their designe sometimes；yet to do it without comparing them with our own，and distinguishing all circumstances，by which the case may come to be altered，is to decypher without a key，and be for the most part deceived，by too much trust，or by too much diffidence；as he that reads，is himself a good or evil man．

Concerning the first，there is a saying much usurped of late，That Wisedome is acquired，not by reading of Books，but of Men．Consequently whereunto，those persons，that for the most part can give no other proof of being wise，take great delight to shew what they think they have read in men，by uncharitable censures of one another behind their backs．But there is another saying not of late understood，by which they might learn truly to read one another，if they would take the pains；and that is，Nosce teipsum，Read thy self：which was not meant，as it is now used，to countenance，either the barbarous state of men in power，towards their inferiors；or to encourage men of low degree，to a sawcie behaviour towards their betters；But to teach us，that for the similitude of the thoughts，and Passions of one man，to the thoughts，and Passions of another，whosoever looketh into himself，and considereth what he doth，when he does think，opine，reason，hope，feare，＆c，and upon what grounds；he shall thereby read and know，what are the thoughts，and Passions of all other men，upon the like occasions．I say the similitude of Passions，which are the same in all men，desire，feare，hope，＆c；not the similitude of the objects of the Passions，which are the things desired，feared，hoped，＆c：for these the constitution individuall，and particular education do so vary，and they are so easie to be kept from our knowledge，that the characters of mans heart，blotted and confounded as they are，with dissembling，lying，counterfeiting，and erroneous doctrines，are legible onely to him that searcheth hearts．And though by mens actions wee do discover their designe sometimes；yet to do it without comparing them with our own，and distinguishing all circumstances，by which the case may come to be altered，is to decypher without a key，and be for the most part deceived，by too much trust，or by too much diffidence；as he that reads，is himself a good or evil man．

But let one man read another by his actions never so perfectly，it serves him onely with his acquaintance，which are but few．He that is to govern a whole Nation，must read in himself，not this，or that particular man；but Man-kind：which though it be hard to do，harder than to learn any Language，or Science；yet，when I shall have set down my own reading orderly，and perspicuously，the pains left another，will be onely to consider，if he also find not the same in himself．For this kind of Doctrine，admitteth no other Demonstration．

Of Man

Of Sense

Concerning the Toughts of man，I will consider them first Singly，and afterwards in Trayne，or dependance upon one another．Singly，they are every one a Representation or Apparence，of some quality，or other Accident of a body without us；which is commonly called an Object．Which Object worketh on the Eyes，Eares，and other parts of mans body；and by diversity of working，produceth diversity of Apparences．

Te Originall of them all，is that which we call Sense；（For there is no conception in a mans mind，which hath not at first，totally，or by parts，been begotten upon the organs of Sense．） The rest are derived from that originall．

To know the naturall cause of Sense，is not very necessary to the business now in hand；and I have elsewhere written of the same at large．Nevertheless，to fill each part of my present method，I will briefly deliver the same in this place．

Te cause of Sense，is the Externall Body，or Object，which presseth the organ proper to each Sense，either immediatly，as in the Tast and Touch；or mediately，as in Seeing，Hearing，and Smelling：which pressure，by the mediation of Nerves，and other strings，and membranes of the body，continued inwards to the Brain，and Heart，causeth there a resistance，or counter-pressure，or endeavour of the heart，to deliver it self：which endeavour because Outward，seemeth to be some matter without．And this seeming，or fancy，is that which men call Sense；and consisteth，as to the Eye，in a Light，or Colour figured；To the Eare，in a Sound；To the Nostrill，in an Odour；To the Tongue and Palat，in a Savour；And to the rest of the body，in Heat，Cold，Hardnesse，Softnesse，and such other qualities，as we discern by Feeling．All which qualities called Sensible，are in the object that causeth them，but so many several motions of the matter，by which it presseth our organs diversly．Neither in us that are pressed，are they anything else，but divers motions；（for motion，produceth nothing but motion.） But their apparence to us is Fancy，the same waking，that dreaming．And as pressing，rubbing，or striking the Eye，makes us fancy a light；and pressing the Eare，produceth a dinne；so do the bodies also wee see，or hear，produce the same by their strong，though unobserved action．For if those Colours，and Sounds，were in the Bodies，or Objects that cause them，they could not bee severed from them，as by glasses，and in Ecchoes by reflection，wee see they are；where we know the thing we see，is in one place；the apparence，in another．And though at some certain distance，the reall，and very object seem invested with the fancy it begets in us；Yet still the object is one thing，the image or fancy is another．So that Sense in all cases，is nothing els but originall fancy，caused （as I have said） by the pressure，that is，by the motion，of externall things upon our Eyes，Eares，and other organs thereunto ordained．

But the Philosophy-schooles，through all the Universities of Christendome，grounded upon certain Texts of Aristotle，teach another doctrine；and say，For the cause of Vision，that the thing seen，sendeth forth on every side a visible species（in English） a visible shew，apparition，or aspect，or a being seen；the receiving whereof into the Eye，is Seeing．And for the cause of Hearing，that the thing heard，sendeth forth an Audible species，that is，an Audible aspect，or Audible being seen；which entring at the Eare，maketh Hearing．Nay for the cause of Understanding also，they say the thing Understood sendeth forth intelligible species，that is，an intelligible being seen；which comming into the Understanding，makes us Understand．I say not this，as disapproving the use of Universities：but because I am to speak hereafter of their office in a Commonwealth，I must let you see on all occasions by the way，what things would be amended in them；amongst which the frequency of insignificant Speech is one．

Of Imagination

That when a thing lies still，unlesse somewhat els stirre it，it will lye still for ever，is a truth that no man doubts of．But that when a thing is in motion，it will eternally be in motion，unless somewhat els stay it，though the reason be the same，（namely，that nothing can change it selfe，） is not so easily assented to．For men measure，not onely other men，but all other things，by themselves：and because they find themselves subject after motion to pain，and lassitude，think every thing els growes weary of motion，and seeks repose of its own accord；little considering，whether it be not some other motion，wherein that desire of rest they find in themselves，consisteth．From hence it is，that the Schooles say，Heavy bodies fall downwards，out of an appetite to rest，and to conserve their nature in that place which is most proper for them；ascribing appetite，and Knowledge of what is good for their conservation，（which is more than man has） to things inanimate absurdly．

When a Body is once in motion，it moveth （unless something els hinder it） eternally；and whatsoever hindreth it，cannot in an instant，but in time，and by degrees quite extinguish it：And as wee see in the water，though the wind cease，the waves give not over rowling for a long time afer；so also it happeneth in that motion，which is made in the internall parts of a man，then，when he Sees，Dreams，＆c．For after the object is removed，or the eye shut，wee still retain an image of the thing seen，though more obscure than when we see it．And this is it，the Latines call Imagination，from the image made in seeing；and apply the same，though improperly，to all the other senses．But the Greeks call it Fancy；which signifies apparence，and is as proper to one sense，as to another．Imagination therefore is nothing but decaying sense；and is found in men，and many other living Creatures，as well sleeping，as waking．

Te decay of Sense in men waking，is not the decay of the motion made in sense；but an obscuring of it，in such manner，as the light of the Sun obscureth the light of the Starres；which starts do no less exercise their vertue by which they are visible，in the day，than in the night．But because amongst many stroaks，which our eyes，eares，and other organs receive from externall bodies，the predominant onely is sensible；therefore the light of the Sun being predominant，we are not afected with the action of the starrs．And any object being removed from our eyes，though the impression it made in us remain；yet other objects more present succeeding，and working on us，the Imagination of the past is obscured，and made weak；as the royce of a man is in the noyse of the day．From whence it followeth，that the longer the time is，after the sight，or Sense of any object，the weaker is the Imagination．For the continuall change of mans body，destroyes in time the parts which in sense were moved：So that distance of time，and of place，hath one and the same efect in us．For as at a distance of place，that which wee look at，appears dimme，and without distinction of the smaller parts；and as Voyces grow weak，and inarticulate：so also after great distance of time，our imagination of the Past is weak；and wee lose （for example） of Cities wee have seen，many particular Streets；and of Actions，many particular Circumstances．This decaying sense，when wee would express the thing it self，（I mean fancy it selfe，） wee call Imagination，as I said before：But when we would express the decay，and signifie that the Sense is fading，old，and past，it is called Memory．So that Imagination and Memory，are but one thing，which for divers considerations hath divers names．

Much memory，or memory of many things，is called Experience．Againe，Imagination being only of those things which have been formerly perceived by Sense，either all at once，or by parts at severall times；The former，（which is the imagining the whole object，as it was presented to the sense） is simple Imagination；as when one imagineth a man，or horse，which he hath seen before．The other is Compounded；as when from the sight of a man at one time，and of a horse at another，we conceive in our mind a Centaure．So when a man compoundeth the image of his own person，with the image of the actions of an other man；as when a man imagins himselfe a Hercules，or an Alexander，（which happeneth often to them that are much taken with reading of Romants） it is a compound imagination，and properly but a Fiction of the mind．Tere be also other Imaginations that rise in men，（though waking） from the great impression made in sense：As from gazing upon the Sun，the impression leaves an image of the Sun before our eyes a long time afer；and from being long and vehemently attent upon Geometricall Figures，a man shall in the dark，（though awake） have the Images of Lines，and Angles before his eyes：which kind of Fancy hath no particular name；as being a thing that doth not commonly fall into mens discourse．

The imaginations of them that sleep，are those we call Dreams．And these also （as all other Imaginations） have been before，either totally，or by parcells in the Sense．And because in sense，the Brain，and Nerves，which are the necessary Organs of sense，are so benummed in sleep，as not easily to be moved by the action of Externall Objects，there can happen in sleep，no Imagination；and therefore no Dreame，but what proceeds from the agitation of the inward parts of mans body；which inward parts，for the connexion they have with the Brayn，and other Organs，when they be distempered，do keep the same in motion；whereby the Imaginations there formerly made，appeare as if a man were waking；saving that the Organs of Sense being now benummed，so as there is no new object，which can master and obscure them with a more vigorous impression，a Dreame must needs be more cleare，in this silence of sense，than are our waking thoughts．And hence it cometh to passe，that it is a hard matter，and by many thought impossible to distinguish exactly between Sense and Dreaming．For my part，when I consider，that in Dreames，I do not ofen，nor constantly think of the same Persons，Places，Objects，and Actions that I do waking；nor remember so long a trayne of coherent thoughts，Dreaming，as at other times；And because waking I often observe the absurdity of Dreames，but never dream of the absurdities of my waking Toughts；I am well satisfied，that being awake，I know I dreame not；though when I dreame，I think my selfe awake．

And seeing dreames are caused by the distemper of some of the inward parts of the Body；divers distempers must needs cause different Dreams．And hence it is，that lying cold breedeth Dreams of Feare，and raiseth the thought and Image of some fearfull object （the motion from the brain to the inner parts，and from the inner parts to the Brain being reciprocall：） And that as Anger causeth heat in some parts of the Body，when we are awake；so when we sleep，the over heating of the same parts causeth Anger，and raiseth up in the brain the Imagination of an Enemy．In the same manner；as naturall kindness，when we are awake causeth desire；and desire makes heat in certain other parts of the body；so also，too much heat in those parts，while wee sleep，raiseth in the brain an imagination of some kindness shewn．In summe，our Dreams are the reverse of our waking Imaginations；Te motion when we are awake，beginning at one end；and when we Dream，at another．

Te most difficult discerning of a mans Dream，from his waking thoughts，is then，when by some accident we observe not that we have slept：which is easie to happen to a man full of fearfull thoughts；and whose conscience is much troubled；and that sleepeth，without the circumstances，of going to bed，or putting off his clothes，as one that noddeth in a chayre．For he that taketh pains，and industriously layes himself to sleep，in case any uncouth and exorbitant fancy come unto him，cannot easily think it other than a Dream．We read of Marcus Brutus，（one that had his life given him by Julius ，and was also his favorite，and notwithstanding murthered him，） how at Philippi，the night before he gave battell to Augustus ，hee saw a fearfull apparition，which is commonly related by Historians as a Vision：but considering the circumstances，one may easily judge to have been but a short Dream．For sitting in his tent，pensive and troubled with the horrour of his rash act，it was not hard for him，slumbering in the cold，to dream of that which most affrighted him；which feare，as by degrees it made him wake；so also it must needs make the Apparition by degrees to vanish：And having no assurance that he slept，he could have no cause to think it a Dream，or any thing but a Vision．And this is no very rare Accident：for even they that be perfectly awake，if they be timorous，and supperstitious，possessed with fearfull tales，and alone in the dark，are subject to the like fancies，and believe they see spirits and dead mens Ghosts walking in Churchyards；whereas it is either their Fancy onely，or els the knavery of such persons，as make use of such superstitious feare，to passe disguised in the night，to places they would not be known to haunt．

From this ignorance of how to distinguish Dreams，and other strong Fancies，from Vision and Sense，did arise the greatest part of the Religion of the Gentiles in time past，that worshipped Satyres，Fawnes，Nymphs，and the like；and now adayes the opinion that rude people have of Fayries，Ghosts，and Goblins；and of the power of Witches．For as for Witches，I think not that their witchcraft is any reall power；but yet that they are justly punished，for the false beliefe they have，that they can do such mischiefe，joyned with their purpose to do it if they can：their trade being neerer to a new Religion，than to a Craft or Science．And for Fayries，and walking Ghosts，the opinion of them has I think been on purpose，either taught，or not confuted，to keep in credit the use of Exorcisme，of Crosses，of holy Water，and other such inventions of Ghostly men．Neverthelesse，there is no doubt，but God can make unnaturall Apparitions：But that he does it so ofen，as men need to feare such things，more than they feare the stay，or change，of the course of Nature，which he also can stay，and change，is no point of Christian faith．But evill men under pretext that God can do any thing，are so bold as to say any thing when it serves their turn，though they think it untrue；It is the part of a wise man，to believe them no further，than right reason makes that which they say，appear credible．If this superstitious fear of Spirits were taken away，and with it，Prognostiques from Dreams，false Prophecies，and many other things depending thereon，by which，crafy ambitious persons abuse the simple people，men would be much more fitted than they are for civill Obedience．

And this ought to be the work of the Schooles：but they rather nourish such doctrine．For （not knowing what Imagination，or the Senses are），what they receive，they teach：some saying，that Imaginations rise of themselves，and have no cause：Others that they rise most commonly from the Will；and that Good thoughts are blown （inspired） into a man，by God；and Evill thoughts by the Divell：or that Good thoughts are powred （infused） into a man，by God，and Evill ones by the Divell．Some say the Senses receive the Species of things，and deliver them to the Common-sense；and the Common Sense delivers them over to the Fancy，and the Fancy to the Memory，and the Memory to the Judgement，like handing of things from one to another，with many words making nothing understood．

Te Imagination that is raysed in man （or any other creature indued with the faculty of imagining） by words，or other voluntary signes，is that we generally call Understanding；and is common to Man and Beast．For a dogge by custome will understand the call，or the rating of his Master；and so will many other Beasts．That Understanding which is peculiar to man，is the Understanding not onely his will；but his conceptions and thoughts，by the sequell and contexture of the names of things into Affirmations，Negations，and other formes of Speech：And of this kinde of Understanding I shall speak hereafer．

Of the Consequence or Trayne of Imaginations

By Consequence，or Trayne of Thoughts，I understand that succession of one Thought to another，which is called （to distinguish it from Discourse in words） Mentall Discourse．

When a man thinketh on any thing whatsoever，His next Thought after，is not altogether so casuall as it seems to be．Not every Thought to every Thought succeeds indifferently．But as wee have no Imagination，whereof we have not formerly had Sense，in whole，or in parts；so we have no Transition from one Imagination to another，whereof we never had the like before in our Senses．The reason whereof is this．All Fancies are Motions within us，reliques of those made in the Sense：And those motions that immediately succeeded one another in the sense，continue also together after Sense：In so much as the former comming again to take place，and be prædominant，the later followeth，by coherence of the matter moved，in such manner，as water upon a plain Table is drawn which way any one part of it is guided by the finger．But because in sense，to one and the same thing perceived，sometimes one thing，sometimes another succeedeth，it comes to passe in time，that in the Imagining of any thing，there is no certainty what we shall Imagine next；Onely this is certain，it shall be something that succeeded the same before，at one time or another．

This Trayne of Toughts，or Mentall Discourse，is of two sorts．The first is Unguided，without Desigue，and inconstant；Wherein there is no Passionate Thought，to govern and direct those that follow，to it self，as the end and scope of some desire，or other passion：In which case the thoughts are said to wander，and seem impertinent one to another，as in a Dream．Such are Commonly the thoughts of men，that are not onely without company，but also without care of any thing；though even then their Toughts are as busie as at other times，but without harmony；as the sound which a Lute out of tune would yeeld to any man；or in tune，to one that could not play．And yet in this wild ranging of the mind，a man may oft-times perceive the way of it，and the dependance of one thought upon another．For in a Discourse of our present civill warre，what could seem more impertinent，than to ask（as one did）what was the value of a Roman Penny？Yet the Cohærence to me was manifest enough．For the Thought of the warre，introduced the Thought of the delivering up the King to his Enemies；The Thought of that，brought in the Thought of the delivering up of Christ；and that again the Thought of the 30 pence，which was the price of that treason：and thence easily followed that malicious question；and all this in a moment of time；for Thought is quick．

The second is more constant；as being regulated by some desire，and designe．For the impression made by such things as wee desire，or feare，is strong，and permanent，or，（if it cease for a time，）of quick return：so strong it is sometimes，as to hinder and break our sleep．From Desire，ariseth the Thought of some means we have seen produce the like of that which we ayme at；and from the thought of that，the thought of means to that mean；and so continually，till we come to some beginning within our own power．And because the End，by the greatnesse of the impression，comes often to mind，in case our thoughts begin to wander，they are quickly again reduced into the way：which observed by one of the seven wise men，made him give men this præcept，which is now worne out，Respice finem；that is to say，in all your actions，look often upon what you would have，as the thing that directs all your thoughts in the way to attain it．

The Trayn of regulated Thoughts is of two kinds；One，when of an effect imagined，wee seek the causes，or means that produce it：and this is common to Man and Beast．The other is，when imagining any thing whatsoever，wee seek all the possible effects，that can by it be produced；that is to say，we imagine what we can do with it，when wee have it．Of which I have not at any time seen any signe，but in man onely；for this is a curiosity hardly incident to the nature of any living creature that has no other Passion but sensuall，such as are hunger，thirst，lust，and anger．In summe，the Discourse of the Mind，when it is governed by designe，is nothing but Seeking，or the faculty of Invention，which the Latines call Sagacitas，and Solertia；a hunting out of the causes，of some efect，present or past；or of the effects，of some present or past cause．Sometimes a man seeks what he hath lost；and from that place，and time，wherein hee misses it，his mind runs back，from place to place，and time to time，to find where，and when he had it；that is to say，to find some certain，and limited time and place，in which to begin a method of seeking．Again，from thence，his thoughts run over the same places and times，to find what action，or other occasion might make him lose it．This we call Remembrance，or Calling to mind：the Latines call it Reminiscentia，as it were a Re-conning of our former actions．

Sometimes a man knows a place determinate，within the compasse whereof he is to seek；and then his thoughts run over all the parts thereof，in the same manner，as one would sweep a room，to find a jewell；or as a Spaniel ranges the field，till he find a sent；or as a man should run over the Alphabet，to start a rime．

Sometime a man desires to know the event of an action；and then he thinketh of some like action past，and the events thereof one after another；supposing like events will follow like actions．As he that foresees what wil become of a Criminal，re-cons what he has seen follow on the like Crime before；having this order of thoughts，The Crime，the Officer，the Prison，the Judge，and the Gallowes．Which kind of thoughts，is called Foresight，and Prudence，or Providence；and sometimes Wisdome；though such conjecture，through the difficulty of observing all circumstances，be very fallacious．But this is certain；by how much one man has more experience of things past，than another；by so much also he is more Prudent，and his expectations the seldomer faile him．Te Present onely has a being in Nature；things Past have a being in the Memory onely，but things to come have no being at all；the Future being but a fiction of the mind，applying the sequels of actions Past，to the actions that are Present；which with most certainty is done by him that has most Experience；but not with certainty enough．And though it be called Prudence，when the Event answereth our Expectation；yet in its own nature，it is but Presumption．For the foresight of things to come，which is Providence，belongs onely to him by whose will they are to come．From him onely，and supernaturally，proceeds Prophecy．Te best Prophet naturally is the best guesser；and the best guesser，he that is most versed and studied in the matters he guesses at：for he hath most Signes to guesse by．

A Signe，is the Event Antecedent，of the Consequent；and contrarily，the Consequent of the Antecedent，when the like Consequences have been observed，before：And the ofner they have been observed，the lesse uncertain is the Signe．And therefore he that has most experience in any kind of businesse，has most Signes，whereby to guesse at the Future time；and consequently is the most prudent：And so much more prudent than he that is new in that kind of business，as not to be equalled by any advantage of naturall and extemporary wit：though perhaps many young men think the contrary．

Nevertheless it is not Prudence that distinguisheth man from beast．There be beasts，that at a year old observe more，and pursue that which is for their good，more prudently，than a child can do at ten．

As Prudence is a of the Future，contracted from the Experience of time Past：So there is a Praesumtion of things Past taken from other things （not future but） past also．For he that hath seen by what courses and degrees，a flourishing State hath first come into civil warre，and then to ruine；upon the sights of the ruines of any other State，will guesse，the like warre，and the like courses have been there also．But this conjecture，has the same incertainty almost with the conjecture of the Future；both being grounded onely upon Experience．

There is no other act of mans mind，that I can remember，naturally planted in him，so，as to need no other thing，to the exercise of it，but to be born a man，and live with the use of his five Senses．Those other Faculties，of which I shall speak by and by，and which seem proper to man onely，are acquired，and encreased by study and industry；and of most men learned by instruction，and discipline；and proceed all from the invention of Words，and Speech．For besides Sense，and Toughts，and the Trayne of thoughts，the mind of man has no other motion；though by the help of Speech，and Method，the same Facultyes may be improved to such a height，as to distinguish men from all other living Creatures．

Whatsoever we imagine，is Finite．Therefore there is no Idea，or conception of anything we call Infinite．No man can have in his mind an Image of infinite magnitude；nor conceive infinite swifness，infinite time，or infinite force，or infinite power．When we say any thing is infinite，we signifie onely，that we are not able to conceive the ends，and bounds of the thing named；having no Conception of the thing，but of our own inability．And therefore the Name of God is used，not to make us conceive him；（for he is Incomprehensible；and his greatnesse，and power are unconceivable；） but that we may honour him．Also because whatsoever （as I said before，） we conceive，has been perceived first by sense，either all at once，or by parts；a man can have no thought，representing any thing，not subject to sense．No man therefore can conceive any thing，but he must conceive it in some place；and indued with some determinate magnitude；and which may be divided into parts；nor that any thing is all in this place，and all in another place at the same time；nor that two，or more things can be in one，and the same place at once：For none of these things ever have，or can be incident to Sense；but are absurd speeches，taken upon credit （without any signification at all，） from deceived Philosophers，and deceived，or deceiving Schoolemen．

Of Speech

The Invention of Printing，though ingenious，compared with the invention of Letters，is no great matter．But who was the first that found the use of Letters，is not known．He that first brought them into Greece，men say was Cadmus，the sonne of Agenor，King of Phænicia．A profitable Invention for continuing the memory of time past，and the conjunction of mankind，dispersed into so many，and distant regions of the Earth；and with all difficult，as proceeding from a watchfull observation of the divers motions of the Tongue，Palat，Lips，and other organs of Speech；whereby to make as many differences of characters，to remember them．But the most noble and profitable invention of all other，was that of Speech，consisting of Names or Appellations，and their Connexion；whereby men register their Thoughts；recall them when they are past；and also declare them one to another for mutuall utility and conversation；without which，there had been amongst men，neither Common-wealth，nor Society，nor Contract，nor Peace，no more than amongst Lyons，Bears，and Wolves．Te first author of Speech was God himself，that instructed Adam how to name such creatures as he presented to his sight；For the Scripture goeth no further in this matter．But this was sufficient to direct him to adde more names，as the experience and use of the creatures should give him occasion；and to joyn them in such manner by degrees，as to make himself understood；and so by succession of time，so much language might be gotten，as he had found use for；though not so copious，as an Orator or Philosopher has need of．For I do not find any thing in the Scripture，out of which，directly or by consequence can be gathered，that Adam was taught the names of all Figures，Numbers，Measures，Colours，Sounds，Fancies，Relations；much less the names of Words and Speech，as Generall，Speciall，Affirmative，Negative，Interrogative，Optative，Infinitive，all which are usefull；and least of all，of Entity，Intentionality，Quiddity，and other insignificant words of the School．

But all this language gotten，and augmented by Adam and his posterity，was again lost at the tower of Babel，when by the hand of God，every man was stricken for his rebellion，with an oblivion of his former language．And being hereby forced to disperse themselves into severall parts of the world，it must needs be，that the diversity of Tongues that now is，proceeded by degrees from them，in such manner，as need （the mother of all inventions） taught them；and in tract of time grew every where more copious．

The generall use of Speech，is to transferre our Mentall Discourse，into Verbal；or the Trayne of our Thoughts，into a Trayne of Words；and that for two commodities；whereof one is，the Registring of the Consequences of our Toughts；which being apt to slip out of our memory，and put us to a new labour，may again be recalled，by such words as they were marked by．So that the first use of names，is to serve for Markes，or Notes of remembrance．Another is，when many use the same words，to signifie （by their connexion and order，） one to another，what they conceive，or think of each matter；and also what they desire，feare，or have any other passion for．And for this use they are called Signes．Speciall uses of Speech are these；First，to Register，what by cogitation，wee find to be the cause of any thing，present or past；and what we find things present or past may produce，or efect：which in summe，is acquiring of Arts．Secondly，to shew to others that knowledge which we have attained；which is，to Counsell，and Teach one another．Thirdly，to make known to others our wills，and purposes，that we may have the mutuall help of one another．Fourthly，to please and delight our selves，and others，by playing with our words，for pleasure or ornament，innocently．

To these Uses，there are also foure correspondent Abuses．First，when men register their thoughts wrong，by the inconstancy of the signification of their words；by which they register for their conceptions，that which they never conceived；and so deceive themselves．Secondly，when they use words metaphorically；that is，in other sense than that they are ordained for；and thereby deceive others．Thirdly，when by words they declare that to be their will，which is not．Fourthly，when they use them to grieve one another：for seeing nature hath armed living creatures，some with teeth，some with horns，and some with hands，to grieve an enemy，it is but an abuse of Speech，to grieve him with the tongue，unlesse it be one whom wee are obliged to govern；and then it is not to grieve，but to correct and amend．

Te manner how Speech serveth to the remembrance of the consequence of causes and effects，consisteth in the imposing of Names，and the Connexion of them．

Of Names，some are Proper，and singular to one onely thing；as Peter，John，This man，this Tree：and some are Common to many things；as Man，Horse，Tree；every of which though but one Name，is nevertheless the name of divers particular things；in respect of all which together，it is called an Universall；there being nothing in the world Universall but Names；for the things named，are every one of them Individuall and Singular．

One Universall name is imposed on many things，for their similitude in some quality，or other accident：And whereas a Proper Name bringeth to mind one thing onely；Universals recall any one of those many．

And of Names Universall，some are of more，and some of lesse extent；the larger comprehending the lesse large：and some again of equall extent，comprehending each other reciprocally．As for example，the Name Body is of larger significations than the word Man，and comprehendeth it；and the names Man and Rationall，are of equall extent，comprehending mutually one another．But here wee must take notice，that by a Name is not alwayes understood，as in Grammar，one onely Word；but sometimes by circumlocution many words together．For all these words，Hee that in his actions observeth the Lawes of his Country，make but one Name，equivalent to this one word，Just．

By this imposition of Names，some of larger，some of stricter signification，we turn the reckoning of the consequences of things imagined in the mind，into a reckoning of the consequences of Appellations．For example，a man that hath no use of Speech at all，（such，as is born and remains perfectly deafe and dumb，） if he set before his eyes a triangle，and by it two right angles，（such as are the corners of a square figure，） he may by meditation compare and find，that the three angles of that triangle，are equall to those two right angles that stand by it．But if another triangle be shewn him different in shape from the former，he cannot know without a new labour，whether the three angles of that also be equall to the same．But he that hath the use of words，when he observes，that such equality was consequent，not to the length of the sides，nor to any other particular thing in his triangle；but onely to this，that the sides were straight，and the angles three；and that that was all，for which he named it a Triangle；will boldly conclude Universally，that such equality of angles is in all triangles whatsoever；and register his invention in these generall termes，Every triangle hath its three angles equall to two right angles．And thus the consequence found in one particular，comes to be registred and remembred，as an Universall rule；and discharges our mentall reckoning，of time and place；and delivers us from all labour of the mind，saving the first；and makes that which was found true here，and now，to be true in all times and places．

But the use of words in registring our thoughts，is in nothing so evident as in Numbering．A naturall foole that could never learn by heart the order of numerall words，as one，two，and three，may observe every stroak of the Clock，and nod to it，or say one，one，one；but can never know what houre it strikes．And it seems，there was a time when those names of number were not in use；and men were fayn to apply their fingers of one or both hands，to those things they desired to keep account of；and that thence it proceeded，that now our numerall words are but ten，in any Nation，and in some but fve，and then they begin again．And he that can tell ten，if he recite them out of order，will lose himselfe，and not know when he has done：Much lesse will he be able to adde，and substract，and performe all other operations of Arithmetique．So that without words，there is no possibility of reckoning of Numbers；much lesse of Magnitudes，of Swiftnesse，of Force，and other things，the reckonings whereof are necessary to the being，or well-being of man-kind．

When two Names are joyned together into a Consequence，or Affirmation；as thus，A man is a living creature；or thus，if he be a man，he is a living creature，If the later name Living creature，signifie all that the former name Man signifieth，then the affirmation，or consequence is true；otherwise false．For True and False are attributes of Speech，not of Things．And where Speech is not，there is neither Truth nor Falshood．Errour there may be，as when wee expect that which shall not be；or suspect what has not been：but in neither case can a man be charged with Untruth．

Seeing then that truth consisteth in the right ordering of names in our affirmations，a man that seeketh precise truth，had need to remember what every name he uses stands for；and to place it accordingly；or else he will find himselfe entangled in words，as a bird in lime-twiggs；the more he struggles，the more belimed．And therefore in Geometry，（which is the onely Science that it hath pleased God hitherto to bestow on mankind，） men begin at settling the significations of their words；which settling of significations，they call Definitions；and place them in the beginning of their reckoning．

By this it appears how necessary it is for any man that aspires to true Knowledge，to examine the Definitions of former Authors；and either to correct them，where they are negligently set down；or to make them himselfe．For the errours of Definitions multiply themselves，according as the reckoning proceeds；and lead men into absurdities，which at last they see，but cannot avoyd，without reckoning anew from the beginning；in which lyes the foundation of their errours．From whence it happens，that they which trust to books，do as they that cast up many little summs into a greater，without considering whether those little summes were rightly cast up or not；and at last finding the errour visible，and not mistrusting their first grounds，know not which way to cleere themselves；but spend time in fluttering over their bookes；as birds that entring by the chimney，and finding themselves inclosed in a chamber，futter at the false light of a glasse window，for want of wit to consider which way they came in．So that in the right Definition of Names，lyes the first use of Speech；which is the Acquisition of Science：And in wrong，or no Definitions，lyes the first abuse；from which proceed all false and senslesse Thenets；which make those men that take their instruction from the authority of books，and not from their own meditation，to be as much below the condition of ignorant men，as men endued with true Science are above it．For between true Science，and erroneous Doctrines，Ignorance is in the middle．Naturall sense and imagination，are not subject to absurdity．Nature it selfe cannot erre：and as men abound in copiousnesse of language；so they become more wise，or more mad than ordinary．Nor is it possible without Letters for any man to become either excellently wise，or （unless his memory be hurt by disease，or ill constitution of organs） excellently foolish．For words are wise mens counters，they do but reckon by them：but they are the mony of fooles，that value them by the authority of an Aristotle，a Cicero，or a Tomas，or any other Doctor whatsoever，if but a man．

Subject to Names，is whatsoever can enter into，or be considered in an account；and be added one to another to make a summe；or substracted one from another，and leave a remainder．Te Latines called Accounts of mony Rationes，and accounting，Ratiocinatio：and that which we in bills or books of account call Items，they called Nomina；that is，Names：and thence it seems to proceed，that they extended the word Ratio，to the faculty of Reckoning in all other things．Te Greeks have but one word ，for both Speech and Reason；not that they thought there was no Speech without Reason；but no Reasoning without Speech：And the act of reasoning they called Syllogisme；which signifieth summing up of the consequences of one saying to another．And because the same things may enter into account for divers accidents；their names are （to shew that diversity） diversly wrested，and diversified．This diversity of names may be reduced to foure generall heads．

First，a thing may enter into account for Matter，or Body；as living，sensible，rationall，hot，cold，moved，quiet；with all which names the word Matter，or Body is understood；all such，being names of Matter．

Secondly，it may enter into account，or be considered，for some accident or quality，which we conceive to be in it；as for being moved，for being so long，for being hot，＆c；and then，of the name of the thing it selfe，by a little change or wresting，wee make a name for that accident，which we consider；and for living put into account life；for moved，motion；for hot，heat；for long，length，and the like？And all such Names，are the names of the accidents and properties，by which one Matter，and Body is distinguished from another．These are called names Abstract；because severed （not from Matter，but） from the account of Matter．

Thirdly，we bring into account，the Properties of our own bodies，whereby we make such distinction：as when any thing is Seen by us，we reckon not the thing it selfe；but the sight，the Colour，the Idea of it in the fancy：and when any thing is heard，wee reckon it not；but the heating，or sound onely，which is our fancy or conception of it by the Eare：and such are names of fancies．

Fourthly，we bring into account，consider，and give names，to Names themselves，and to Speeches：For，generall，universall，speciall，，are names of Names．And Affirmation，Interrogation，Commandement，Narration，Syllogisme，Sermon，Oration，and many other such，are names of Speeches．And this is all the variety of Names positive；which are put to mark somewhat which is in Nature，or may be feigned by the mind of man，as Bodies that are，or may be conceived to be；or of bodies，the Properties that are，or may be feigned to be；or Words and Speech．

There be also other Names，called Negative；which are notes to signifie that a word is not the name of the thing in question；as these words Nothing，no man，infinite，indocible，three want foure，and the like；which are nevertheless of use in reckoning，or in correcting of reckoning；and call to mind our past cogitations，though they be not names of any thing；because they make us refuse to admit of Names not rightly used．

All other Names，are but insignificant sounds；and those of two sorts．One，when they are new，and yet their meaning not explained by Definition；whereof there have been aboundance coyned by Schoole-men，and pusled Philosophers．

Another，when men make a name of two Names，whose significations are contradictory and inconsistent；as this name，an incorporeall body，or （which is all one） an incorporeall substance，and a great number more．For whensoever any affirmation is false，the two names of which it is composed，put together and made one，signifie nothing at all．For example，if it be a false affirmation to say a quadrangle is round，the word round quadrangle signifies nothing；but is a meere sound．So likewise if it be false，to say that vertue can be powred，or blown up and down；the words In-powred vertue，In-blown vertue，are as absurd and insignificant，as a round quadrangle．And therefore you shall hardly meet with a senselesse and insignificant word，that is not made up of some Latin or Greek names．A Frenchman seldome hears our Saviour called by the name of Parole，but by the name of Verbe ofen；yet Verbe and Parole differ no more，but that one is Latin，the other French．

When a man upon the heating of any Speech，hath those thoughts which the words of that Speech，and their connexion，were ordained and constituted to signifie；Then he is said to understand it：Understanding being nothing else，but conception caused by Speech．And therefore if Speech be peculiar to man （as for ought I know it is，） then is Understanding peculiar to him also．And therefore of absurd and false affirmations，in case they be universall，there can be no Understanding；though many think they understand，then，when they do but repeat the words softly，or con them in their mind．

What kinds of Speeches signifie the Appetites，Aversions，and Passions of mans mind；and of their use and abuse，I shall speak when I have spoken of the Passions．

The names of such things as affect us，that is，which please，and displease us，because all men be not alike affected with the same thing，nor the same man at all times，are in the common discourses of men，of inconstant signification．For seeing all names are imposed to signifie our conceptions；and all our affections are but conceptions；when we conceive the same things differently，we can hardly avoyd different naming of them．For though the nature of that we conceive，be the same；yet the diversity of our reception of it，in respect of different constitutions of body，and prejudices of opinion，gives everything a tincture of our different passions．And therefore in reasoning，a man must take heed of words；which besides the significations of what we imagine of their nature，have a significations also of the nature，disposition，and interest of the speaker；such as are the names of Vertues，and Vices；For one man calleth Wisdome，what another calleth feare；and one cruelty，what another justice；one prodigality，what another magnanimity；and one gravity，what another stupidity，＆c．And therefore such names can never be true grounds of any ratiocination．No more can Metaphors，and Tropes of speech：but these are less dangerous，because they profess their inconstancy；which the other do not．

［…］

Of the Interiour Beginnings of Voluntary Motions；commonly called the Passions．And the Speeches by which they are expressed．

There be in Animals，two sorts of Motions peculiar to them：One called Vitall；begun in generation，and continued without interruption through their whole life；such as are the course of the Bloud，the Pulse，the Breathing，the Concoction，Nutrition，Excretion，＆c；to which Motions there needs no help of Imagination：Te other is Animall motion，otherwise called Voluntary motion；as to go，to speak，to move any of our limbes，in such manner as is first fancied in our minds．That Sense，is Motion in the organs and interiour parts of mans body，caused by the action of the things we See，Heare，＆c；And that Fancy is but the Reliques of the same Motion，remaining after Sense，has been already sayd in the first and second Chapters．And because going，speaking，and the like Voluntary motions，depend alwayes upon a precedent thought of whither，which way，and what；it is evident，that the Imagination is the first internall beginning of all Voluntary Motion．And although unstudied men，doe not conceive any motion at all to be there，where the thing moved is invisible；or the space it is moved in，is （for the shortnesse of it） insensible；yet that doth not hinder，but that such Motions are．For let a space be never so little，that which is moved over a greater space，whereof that little one is part，must first be moved over that．Tese small beginnings of Motion，within the body of Man，before they appear in walking，speaking，striking，and other visible actions，are commonly called Endeavour．

This Endeavour，when it is toward something which causes it，is called Appetite，or Desire；the later，being the generall name；and the other，oftentimes restrayned to signifie the Desire of Food，namely Hunger and Thirst．And when the Endeavour is fromward something，it is generally called Aversion．These words Appetite，and Aversion we have from the Latines；and they both of them signifie the motions，one of approaching，the other of retiring．So also do the Greek words for the same，which are ，and ．For Nature it selfe does often presse upon men those truths，which afterwards，when they look for somewhat beyond Nature，they stumble at．For the Schooles find in meere Appetite to go，or move，no actuall Motion at all：but because some Motion they must acknowledge，they call it Metaphoricall Motion；which is but an absurd speech：for though Words may be called metaphoricall；Bodies，and Motions cannot．

That which men Desire，they are also sayd to Love：and to Hate those things，for which they have Aversion．So that Desire，and Love，are the same thing；save that by Desire，we alwayes signifie the Absence of the Object；by Love，most commonly the Presence of the same．So also by Aversion，we signifie the Absence；and by Hate，the Presence of the Object．

Of Appetites，and Aversions，some are born with men；as Appetite of food，Appetite of excretion，and exoneration，（which may also and more properly be called Aversions，from somewhat they feele in their Bodies；） and some other Appetites，not many．Te rest，which are Appetites of particular things，proceed from Experience，and triall of their effects upon themselves，or other men．For of things wee know not at all，or believe not to be，we can have no further Desire，than to tast and try．But Aversion wee have for things，not onely which we know have hurt us；but also that we do not know whether they will hurt us，or not．

Tose things which we neither Desire，nor Hate，we are said to Contemne：Contempt being nothing else but an immobility，or contumacy of the Heart，in resisting the action of certain things；and proceeding from that the Heart is already moved otherwise，by other more potent objects；or from want of experience of them．

And because the constitution of a mans Body，is in continuall mutation；it is impossible that all the same things should alwayes cause in him the same Appetites，and Aversions：much lesse can all men consent，in the Desire of almost any one and the same Object．

But whatsoever is the object of any mans Appetite or Desire；that is it，which he for his part calleth Good：And the object of his Hate，and Aversion，Evill；And of his Contempt，Vile，and Inconsiderable．For these words of Good，Evill，and Contemptible，are ever used with relation to the person that useth them：There being nothing simply and absolutely so；nor any common Rule of Good and Evill，to be taken from the nature of the objects themselves；but from the Person of the man （where there is no Common-wealth；） or，（in a Common-wealth，） from the Person that representeth it；or from an Arbitrator or Judge，whom men disagreeing shall by consent set up，and make his sentence the Rule thereof．

The Latine Tongue has two words，whose significa-tions approach to those of Good and Evill；but are not precisely the same；And those are Pulchrum and Turpe．Whereof the former signifies that，which by some apparent signes promiseth Good；and the later，that，which promiseth Evil．But in our Tongue we have not so generall names to expresse them by．But for Pulchrum，we say in some things，Fayre；in others Beautifull，or Handsome，or Gallant，or Honourable，or Comely，or Amiable；and for Turpe，Foule，Deformed，Ugly，Base，Nauseous，and the like，as the subject shall require；All which words，in their proper places signifie nothing els，but the Mine，or Countenance，that promiseth Good and Evil．So that of Good there be three kinds；Good in the Promise，that is Pulchrum；Good in Effect，as the end desired，which is called Jucundum，Delightfull；and Good as the Means，which is called Utile，Profitable；and as many of Evil：For Evill，in Promise，is that they call Turpe；Evil in Effect，and End，is Molestum，Unpleasant，Troublesome；and Evill in the Means，Inutile，Unprofitable，Hurtfull．

As，in Sense，that which is really within us，is （as I have sayd before） onely Motion，caused by the action of externall objects，but in apparence；to the Sight，Light and Colour；to the Eare，Sound；to the Nostrill，Odour，＆c：so，when the action of the same object is continued from the Eyes，Eares，and other organs to the Heart；the reall efect there is nothing but Motion，or Endeavour；which consisteth in Appetite，or Aversion，to，or from the object moving．But the apparence，or sense of that motion，is that wee either call Delight，or Trouble Of Mind．

This Motion，which is called Appetite，and for the apparence of it Delight，and Pleasure，seemeth to be，a corroboration of Vitall motion，and a help thereunto；and therefore such things as caused Delight，were not improperly called Jucunda，（à Juvando，） from helping or fortifying；and the contrary，Molesta，Ofensive，from hindering，and troubling the motion vitall．

Pleasure therefore，（or Delight，） is the apparence，or sense of Good；and Molestation or Displeasure，the apparence，or sense of Evill．And consequently all Appetite，Desire，and Love，is accompanied with some Delight more or lesse；and all Hatred，and Aversion，with more or lesse Displeasure and Ofence．

Of Pleasures，or Delights，some arise from the sense of an object Present；And those may be called Pleasures of Sense，（Te word sensuall，as it is used by those onely that condemn them，having no place till there be Lawes．） Of this kind are all Onerations and Exonerations of the body；as also all that is pleasant in the Sight，Hearing，Smell，Tast，or Touch；Others arise from the Expectation，that proceeds from foresight of the End，or Consequence of things；whether those things in the Sense Please or Displease：And these are Pleasures of the Mind of him that draweth those consequences；and are generally called Joy．In the like manner，Displeasures，are some in the Sense，and called Payne；others，in the Expectation of consequences，and are called Griefe．

These simple Passions called Appetite，Desire，Love，Aversion，Hate，Joy，and Griefe，have their names for divers considerations diversified．As first，when they one succeed another，they are diversly called from the opinion men have of the likelihood of attaining what they desire．Secondly，from the object loved or hated．Tirdly，from the consideration of many of them together．Fourthly，from the Alteration or succession it selfe．

For Appetite with an opinion of attaining，is called Hope．

Te same，without such opinion，Despaire．

Aversion，with opinion of Hurt from the object，Feare．

The same，with hope of avoyding that Hurt by resistence，Courage．

Sudden Courage，Anger．

Constant Hope，Confidence of our selves．

Constant Despayre，Diffidence of our selves．

Anger for great hurt done to another，when we conceive the same to be done by Injury，Indignation．

Desire of good to another，Benevolence，Good Will，Charity．If to man generally，Good Nature．

Desire of Riches，Covetousnesse：a name used alwayes in signification of blame；because men contending for them，are displeased with one anothers attaining them；though the desire in it selfe，be to be blamed，or allowed，according to the means by which those Riches are sought．

Desire of Office，or precedence，Ambition：a name used also in the worse sense，for the reason before mentioned．

Desire of things that conduce but a little to our ends；And fear of things that are but of little hindrance，Pusillanimity．

Contempt of little helps，and hindrances，Magnanimity．

Magnanimity，in danger of Death，or Wounds，Valour，Fortitude．

Magnanimity，in the use of Riches，Liberality．

Pusillanimity，in the same Wretchednesse，Miser-ablenesse；or Parsimony；as it is liked，or disliked．

Love of Persons for society，Kindnesse．

Love of Persons for Pleasing the sense onely，Natural Lust．

Love of the same，acquired from Rumination，that is，Imagination of Pleasure past，Luxury．

Love of one singularly，with desire to be singularly beloved，The Passion Of Love．Te same，with fear that the love is not mutuall，Jealousie．

Desire，by doing hurt to another，to make him condemn some fact of his own，Revengefulnesse．

Desire，to know why，and how，Curiosity；such as is in no living creature but Man；so that Man is distinguished，not onely by his Reason；but also by this singular Passion from other Animals；in whom the appetite of food，and other pleasures of Sense，by prædominance，take away the care of knowing causes；which is a Lust of the mind，that by a perseverance of delight in the continuall and indefatigable generation of Knowledge，exceedeth the short vehemence of any carnall Pleasure．

Feare of power invisible，feigned by the mind，or imagined from tales publiquely allowed，Religion；not allowed，Superstition．And when the power imagined，is truly such as we imagine，True Religion．

Feare，without the apprehension of why，or what，Panique Terror；called so from the Fables，that make Pan the author of them；whereas in truth，there is alwayes in him that so feareth，first，some apprehension of the cause，though the rest run away by Example；every one supposing his fellow to know why．And therefore this Passion happens to none but in a throng，or multitude of people．

Joy，from apprehension of novelty，Admiration；proper to Man，because it excites the appetite of knowing the cause．

Joy，arising from imagination of a mans own power and ability，is that exultation of the mind which is called Glorying：which if grounded upon the experience of his own former actions，is the same with Confidence：but if grounded on the flattery of others；or onely supposed by himself，for delight in the consequences of it，is called Vaine-Glory：which name is properly given；because a well grounded Confidence begetteth Attempt；whereas the supposing of power does not，and is therefore rightly called Vaine．

Griefe，from opinion of want of power，is called Dejection of mind．

The vain-glory which consisteth in the feigning or supposing of abilities in our selves，which we know are not，is most incident to young men，and nourished by the Histories，or Fictions of Gallant Persons；and is corrected ofen times by Age，and Employment．

Sudden Glory，is the passion which maketh those Grimaces called Laughter；and is caused either by some sudden act of their own，that pleaseth them；or by the apprehension of some deformed thing in another，by comparison whereof they suddenly applaud themselves．And it is incident most to them，that are conscious of the fewest abilities in themselves；who are forced to keep themselves in their own favour，by observing the imperfections of other men．And therefore much Laughter at the deffects of others，is a signe of Pusillanimity．For of great minds，one of the proper workes is，to help and free others from scorn；and compare themselves onely with the most able．

On the contrary，Sudden Dejection，is the passion that causeth Weepinc；and is caused by such accidents，as suddenly take away some vehement hope，or some prop of their power：And they are most subject to it，that rely principally on helps externall，such as are Women，and Children．Terefore some Weep for the losse of Friends；Others for their unkindnesse；others for the sudden stop made to their thoughts of revenge，by Reconciliation．But in all cases，both Laughter，and Weeping，are sudden motions；Custome taking them both away．For no man Laughs at old jests；or Weeps for an old calamity．

Griefe，for the discovery of some defect of ability，is Shame，or the passion that discovereth it selfe in Blushing；and consisteth in the apprehension of some thing dishonourable；and in young men，is a signe of the love of good reputation；and commendable：In old men it is a signe of the same；but because it comes too late，not commendable．

The Contempt of good Reputation is called Impudence．

Griefe，for the Calamity of another，is Pitty；and ariseth from the imagination that the like calamity may befall himselfe；and therefore is called also Compassion，and in the phrase of this present time a Fellow-feeling：And therefore for Calamity arriving from great wickedness，the best men have the least Pitty；and for the same Calamity，those have least Pitty，that think themselves least obnoxious to the same．

Contempt，or little sense of the calamity of others，is that which men call Cruelty；proceeding from Security of their own fortune．For，that any man should take pleasure in other mens great harmes，without other end of his own，I do not conceive it possible．

Griefe，for the successe of a Competitor in wealth，honour，or other good，if it be joyned with Endeavour to enforce our own abilities to equall or exceed him，is called Emulation：But joyned with Endeavour to supplant，or hinder a Competitor，Envie．

When in the mind of man，Appetites，and Aversions，Hopes，and Feares，concerning one and the same thing，arise alternately；and divers good and evill consequences of the doing，or omitting the thing propounded，come successively into our thoughts；so that sometimes we have an Appetite to it；sometimes an Aversion from it；sometimes Hope to be able to do it；sometimes Despaire，or Feare to attempt it；the whole summe of Desires，Aversions，Hopes and Fears，continued till the thing be either done，or thought impossible，is that we call Deliberation．

Therefore of things past，there is no Deliberation；because manifestly impossible to be changed：nor of things known to be impossible，or thought so；because men know，or think such Deliberation vain．But of things impossible，which we think possible，we may Deliberate；not knowing it is in vain．And it is called Deliberation；because it is a putting an end to the Liberty we had of doing，or omitting，according to our own Appetite，or Aversion．

This alternate Succession of Appetites，Aversions，Hopes and Fears，is no lesse in other living Creatures then in Man：and therefore Beasts also Deliberate．

Every Deliberation is then sayd to End，when that whereof they Deliberate，is either done，or thought impossible；because till then wee retain the liberty of doing，or omitting，according to our Appetite，or Aversion．

In Deliberation，the last Appetite，or Aversion，immediately adhæring to the action，or to the omission thereof，is that wee call the Will；the Act，（not the faculty，） of Willing．And Beasts that have Deliberation，must necessarily also have Will．The Definition of the Will，given commonly by the Schooles，that it is a Rationall Appetite，is not good．For if it were，then could there be no Voluntary Act against Reason．For a Voluntary Act is that，which proceedeth from the will，and no other．But if in stead of a Rationall Appetite，we shall say an Appetite resulting from a precedent Deliberation，then the Definition is the same that I have given here．Will therefore is the last Appetite in Deliberating．And though we say in common Discourse，a man had a Will once to do a thing，that neverthelesse he forbore to do；yet that is properly but an Inclination，which makes no Action Voluntary；because the action depends not of it，but of the last Inclination，or Appetite．For if the intervenient Appetites，make any action Voluntary；then by the same Reason all intervenient Aversions，should make the same action Involuntary；and so one and the same action，should be both Voluntary ＆ Involuntary．

By this it is manifest，that not onely actions that have their beginning from Covetousnesse，Ambition，Lust，or other Appetites to the thing propounded；but also those that have their beginning from Aversion，or Feare of those consequences that follow the omission，are voluntary actions．

The formes of Speech by which the Passions are expressed，are partly the same，and partly different from those，by which wee expresse our Thoughts．And first generally all Passions may be expressed Indicatively；as I love，I feare，I joy，I deliberate，I will，I command：but some of them have particular expressions by themselves，which neverthelesse are not affirmations，unlesse it be when they serve to make other inferences，besides that of the Passion they proceed from．Deliberation is expressed Subjunctively；which is a speech proper to signifie suppositions，with their consequences；as，If this be done，then this will follow；and differs not from the language of Reasoning，save that Reasoning is in generall words；but Deliberation for the most part is of Particulars．The language of Desire，and Aversion，is Imperative；as Do this，forbeare that；which when the party is obliged to do，or forbeare，is Command；otherwise Prayer；or els Counsell．The language of Vain-Glory，of Indignation，Pitty and Revengefulness，Optative：But of the Desire to know，there is a peculiar expression，called Interrogative；as，What is it，when shall it，how is it done，and why so？other language of the Passions I find none：For Cursing，Swearing，Reviling，and the like，do not signifie as Speech；but as the actions of a tongue accustomed．

These formes of Speech，I say，are expressions，or voluntary significations of our Passions：but certain signes they be not；because they may be used arbitrarily，whether they that use them，have such Passions or not．The best signes of Passions present，are either in the countenance，motions of the body，actions，and ends，or aimes，which we otherwise know the man to have．

And because in Deliberation，the Appetites，and Aversions are raised by foresight of the good and evill consequences，and sequels of the action whereof we Deliberate；the good or evill effect thereof dependeth on the foresight of a long chain of consequences，of which very seldome any man is able to see to the end．But for so farre as a man seeth，if the Good in those consequences，be greater than the Evill，the whole chaine is that which Writers call Apparent，or Seeming Good．And contrarily，when the Evill exceedeth the Good，the whole is Apparent，or Seeming Evill：so that he who hath by Experience，or Reason，the greatest and surest prospect of Consequences，Deliberates best himself；and is able when he will，to give the best counsell unto others．

Continuall successe in obtaining those things which a man from time to time desireth，that is to say，continuall prospering，is that men call Felicity；I mean the Felicity of this life．For there is no such thing as perpetuall Tranquillity of mind，while we live here；because Life it selfe is but Motion，and can never be without Desire，nor without Feare，no more than without Sense．What kind of Felicity God hath ordained to them that devoutly honour him，a man shall no sooner know，than enjoy；being joyes，that now are as incomprehensible，as the word of School-men Beatifcall Vision is unintelligible．

The forme of Speech whereby men signifie their opinion of the Goodnesse of any thing，is Praise．That whereby they signifie the power and greatnesse of any thing，is Magnifying. And that whereby they signifie the opinion they have of a mans Felicity，is by the Greeks called ，for which wee have no name in our tongue．And thus much is sufficient for the present purpose，to have been said of the Passions．

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Of the Naturall Condition of Mankind，as concerning their Felicity，and Misery

Nature hath made men so equall，in the faculties of body，and mind；as that though there bee found one man sometimes manifestly stronger in body，or of quicker mind then another；yet when all is reckoned together，the difference between man，and man，is not so considerable，as that one man can thereupon claim to himselfe any benefit，to which another may not pretend，as well as he．For as to the strength of body，the weakest has strength enough to kill the strongest，either by secret machination，or by confederacy with others，that are in the same danger with himselfe．

And as to the faculties of the mind，（setting aside the arts grounded upon words，and especially that skill of proceeding upon generall，and infallible rules，called Science；which very few have，and but in few things；as being not a native faculty，born with us；nor attained，（as Prudence，） while we look after somewhat els，） I find yet a greater equality amongst men，than that of strength．For Prudence，is but Experience；which equall time，equally bestowes on all men，in those things they equally apply themselves unto．That which may perhaps make such equality incredible，is but a vain conceipt of ones owne wisdome，which almost all men think they have in a greater degree，than the Vulgar；that is，than all men but themselves，and a few others，whom by Fame，or for concurring with themselves，they approve．For such is the nature of men，that howsoever they may acknowledge many others to be more witty，or more eloquent，or more learned；Yet they will hardly believe there be many so wise as themselves：For they see their own wit at hand，and other mens at a distance．But this proveth rather that men are in that point equall，than unequall．For there is not ordinarily a greater signe of the equall distribution of any thing，than that every man is contented with his share．

From this equality of ability，ariseth equality of hope in the attaining of our Ends．And therefore if any two men desire the same thing，which neverthelesse they cannot both enjoy，they become enemies；and in the way to their End，（which is principally their owne conservation，and sometimes their delectation only，） endeavour to destroy，or subdue one an other．And from hence it comes to passe，that where an Invader hath no more to feare，than an other mans single power；if one plant，sow，build，or possesse a convenient Seat，others may probably be expected to come prepared with forces united，to dispossesse，and deprive him，not only of the fruit of his labour，but also of his life，or liberty．And the Invader again is in the like danger of another．

And from this diffidence of one another，there is no way for any man to secure himselfe，so reasonable，as Anticipation；that is，by force，or wiles，to master the persons of all men he can，so long，till he see no other power great enough to endanger him：And this is no more than his own conservation requireth，and is generally allowed．Also because there be some，that taking pleasure in contemplating their own power in the acts of conquest，which they pursue farther than their security requires；if others，that otherwise would be glad to be at ease within modest bounds，should not by invasion increase their power，they would not be able，long time，by standing only on their defence，to subsist．And by consequence，such augmentation of dominion over men，being necessary to a mans conservation，it ought to be allowed him．

Againe，men have no pleasure，（but on the contrary a great deale of griefe） in keeping company，where there is no power able to over-awe them all．For every man looketh that his companion should value him，at the same rate he sets upon himselfe：And upon all signes of contempt，or undervaluing，naturally endeavours，as far as he dares （which amongst them that have no common power，to keep them in quiet，is far enough to make them destroy each other，） to extort a greater value from his contemners，by dommage；and from others，by the example．

So that in the nature of man，we find three principall causes of quarrell．First，Competition；Secondly，Difdence；Tirdly，Glory．

The first，maketh men invade for Gain；the second，for Safety；and the third，for Reputation．The first use Violence，to make themselves Masters of other mens persons，wives，children，and cattell；the second，to defend them；the third，for trifes，as a word，a smile，a different opinion，and any other signe of undervalue，either direct in their Persons，or by reflexion in their Kindred，their Friends，their Nation，their Profession，or their Name．

Hereby it is manifest，that during the time men live without a common Power to keep them all in awe，they are in that condition which is called Warre；and such a warre，as is of every man，against every man．For Warre，consisteth not in Battell onely，or the act of fighting；but in a tract of time，wherein the Will to contend by Battell is sufficiently known：and therefore the notion of Time，is to be considered in the nature of Warre；as it is in the nature of Weather．For as the nature of Foule weather，lyeth not in a showre or two of rain；but in an inclination thereto of many dayes together：So the nature of War，consisteth not in actuall fghting；but in the known disposition thereto，during all the time there is no assurance to the contrary．All other time is Peace．

Whatsoever therefore is consequent to a time of Warre，where every man is Enemy to every man；the same is consequent to the time，wherein men live without other security，than what their own strength，and their own invention shall furnish them withall．In such condition，there is no place for Industry；because the fruit thereof is uncertain：and consequently no Culture of the Earth；no Navigation，nor use of the commodities that may be imported by Sea；no commodious Building；no Instruments of moving，and removing such things as require much force；no Knowledge of the face of the Earth；no account of Time；no Arts；no Letters；no Society；and which is worst of all，continuall feare，and danger of violent death；And the life of man，solitary，poore，nasty，brutish，and short．

It may seem strange to some man，that has not well weighed these things；that Nature should thus dissociate，and render men apt to invade，and destroy one another：and he may therefore，not trusting to this Inference，made from the Passions，desire perhaps to have the same confirmed by Experience．Let him therefore consider with himselfe，when taking a journey，he armes himselfe，and seeks to go well accompanied；when going to sleep，he locks his dores；when even in his house he locks his chests；and this when he knows there bee Lawes，and publike Officers，armed，to revenge all injuries shall bee done him；what opinion he has of his fellow subjects，when he rides armed；of his fellow Citizens，when he locks his dores；and of his children，and servants，when he locks his chests．Does he not there as much accuse mankind by his actions，as I do by my words？But neither of us accuse mans nature in it．The Desires，and other Passions of man，are in themselves no Sin．No more are the Actions，that proceed from those Passions，till they know a Law that forbids them：which till Lawes be made they cannot know：nor can any Law be made，till they have agreed upon the Person that shall make it．

It may peradventure be thought，there was never such a time，nor condition of warre as this；and I believe it was never generally so，over all the world：but there are many places，where they live so now．For the savage people in many places of America，except the government of small Families，the concord whereof dependeth on naturall lust，have no government at all；and live at this day in that brutish manner，as I said before．Howsoever，it may be perceived what manner of life there would be，where there were no common Power to feare；by the manner of life，which men that have formerly lived under a peacefull government，use to degenerate into，in a civill Warre．

But though there had never been any time，wherein particular men were in a condition of warre one against another；yet in all times，Kings，and Persons of Soveraigne authority，because of their Independency，are in continuall jealousies，and in the state and posture of Gladiators；having their weapons pointing，and their eyes fxed on one another；that is，their Forts，Garrisons，and Guns upon the Frontiers of their Kingdomes；and continuall Spyes upon their neighbours；which is a posture of War．But because they uphold thereby，the Industry of their Subjects；there does not follow from it，that misery，which accompanies the Liberty of particular men．

To this warre of every man against every man，this also is consequent；that nothing can be Unjust．Te notions of Right and Wrong，Justice and Injustice have there no place．Where there is no common Power，there is no Law：where no Law，no Injustice．Force，and Fraud，are in warre the two Cardinall vertues．Justice，and Injustice are none of the Faculties neither of the Body，nor Mind．If they were，they might be in a man that were alone in the world，as well as his Senses，and Passions．Tey are Qualities，that relate to men in Society，not in Solitude．It is consequent also to the same condition，that there be no Propriety，no Dominion，no Mine and Tine distinct；but onely that to be every mans that he can get；and for so long，as he can keep it．And thus much for the ill condition，which man by meer Nature is actually placed in；though with a possiblity to come out of it，consisting partly in the Passions，partly in his Reason．

The Passions that encline men to Peace，are Feare of Death；Desire of such things as are necessary to commodious living；and a Hope by their Industry to obtain them．And Reason suggesteth convenient Articles of Peace，upon which men may be drawn to agreement．Tese Articles，are they，which otherwise are called the Lawes of Nature：whereof I shall speak more particularly，in the two following Chapters．[1]

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[1] Fourteen and ffteen，not included here．

Of Common-wealth

Of the Causes，Generation，and Definition of a Common-wealth

The finall Cause，End，or Designe of men，（who naturally love Liberty，and Dominion over others，） in the introduction of that restraint upon themselves，（in which wee see them live in Common-wealths，） is the foresight of their own preservation，and of a more contented life thereby；that is to say，of getting themselves out from that miserable condition of Warre，which is necessarily consequent （as hath been shewn） to the naturall Passions of men，when there is no visible Power to keep them in awe，and tye them by feare of punishment to the performance of their Covenants，and observation of those Lawes of Nature set down in the fourteenth and ffeenth Chapters．

For the Lawes of Nature （as Justice，Equity，Modesty，Mercy，and （in summe） doing to others，as wee would be done to，） of themselves，without the terrour of some Power，to cause them to be observed，are contrary to our naturall Passions，that carry us to Partiality，Pride，Revenge，and the like．And Covenants，without the Sword，are but Words，and of no strength to secure a man at all．Therefore notwithstanding the Lawes of Nature，（which every one hath then kept，when he has the will to keep them，when he can do it safely，） if there be no Power erected，or not great enough for our security；every man will and may lawfully rely on his own strength and art，for caution against all other men．And in all places，where men have lived by small Families，to robbe and spoyle one another，has been a Trade，and so farre from being reputed against the Law of Nature，that the greater spoyles they gained，the greater was their honour；and men observed no other Lawes therein，but the Lawes of Honour；that is，to abstain from cruelty，leaving to men their lives，and instruments of husbandry．And as small Familyes did then；so now do Cities and Kingdomes which are but greater Families （for their own security） enlarge their Dominions，upon all pretences of danger，and fear of Invasion，or assistance that may be given to Invaders，endeavour as much as they can，to subdue，or weaken their neighbours，by open force，and secret arts，for want of other Caution，justly；and are remembred for it in afer ages with honour．

Nor is it the joyning together of a small number of men，that gives them this security；because in small numbers，small additions on the one side or the other，make the advantage of strength so great，as is sufficient to carry the Victory；and therefore gives encouragement to an Invasion．Te Multitude sufficient to confde in for our Security，is not determined by any certain number，but by Comparison with the Enemy we feare；and is then sufficient，when the odds of the Enemy is not of so visible and conspicuous moment，to determine the event of warre，as to move him to attempt．

And be there never so great a Multitude；yet if their actions be directed according to their particular judgements，and particular appetites，they can expect thereby no defence，nor protection，neither against a Common enemy，nor against the injuries of one another．For being distracted in opinions concerning the best use and application of their strength，they do not help，but hinder one another；and reduce their strength by mutuall opposition to nothing：whereby they are easily，not onely subdued by a very few that agree together；but also when there is no common enemy，they make warre upon each other，for their particular interests．For if we could suppose a great Multitude of men to consent in the observation of Justice，and other Lawes of Nature，without a common Power to keep them all in awe；we might as well suppose all Man-kind to do the same；and then there neither would be，nor need to be any Civill Government，or Common-wealth at all；because there would be Peace without subjection．

Nor is it enough for the security，which men desire should last all the time of their life，that they be governed，and directed by one judgement，for a limited time；as in one Battell，or one Warre．For though they obtain a Victory by their unanimous endeavour against a forraign enemy；yet afterwards，when either they have no common enemy，or he that by one part is held for an enemy，is by another part held for a friend，they must needs by the difference of their interests dissolve，and fall again into a Warre amongst themselves．

It is true，that certain living creatures，as Bees，and Ants，live sociably one with another，（which are therefore by Aristotle numbred amongst Politicall creatures；） and yet have no other direction，than their particular judgements and appetites；nor speech，whereby one of them can signifie to another，what he thinks expedient for the common benefit：and therefore some man may perhaps desire to know，why Man-kind cannot do the same．To which I answer，

First，that men are continually in competition for Honour and Dignity，which these creatures are not；and consequently amongst men there ariseth on that ground，Envy and Hatred，and fnally Warre；but amongst these not so．

Secondly，that amongst these creatures，the Common good differeth not from the Private；and being by nature enclined to their private，they procure thereby the common benefit．But man，whose Joy consisteth in comparing himselfe with other men，can relish nothing but what is eminent．

Thirdly，that these creatures，having not （as man） the use of reason，do not see，nor think they see any fault，in the administration of their common businesse：whereas amongst men，there are very many，that thinke themselves wiser，and abler to govern the Publique，better than the rest；and these strive to reforme and innovate，one this way，another that way；and thereby bring it into Distraction and Civill warre．

Fourthly，that these creatures，though they have some use of voice，in making knowne to one another their desires，and other affections；yet they want that art of words，by which some men can represent to others，that which is Good，in the likenesse of Evill；and Evill，in the likenesse of Good；and augment，or diminish the apparent greatnesse of Good and Evill；discontenting men，and troubling their Peace at their pleasure．

Fiftly，irrationall creatures cannot distinguish betweene Injury，and Dammage；and therefore as long as they be at ease，they are not ofended with their fellowes：whereas Man is then most troublesome，when he is most at ease：for then it is that he loves to shew his Wisdome，and controule the Actions of them that governe the Common-wealth．

Lastly，the agreement of these creatures is Naturall；that of men，is by Covenant only，which is Artificiall：and therefore it is no wonder if there be somewhat else required （besides Covenant） to make their Agreement constant and lasting；which is a Common Power，to keep them in awe，and to direct their actions to the Common Beneft．

Te only way to erect such a Common Power，as may be able to defend them from the invasion of Forraigners，and the injuries of one another，and thereby to secure them in such sort，as that by their owne industrie，and by the fruites of the Earth，they may nourish themselves and live contentedly；is，to conferre all their power and strength upon one Man，or upon one Assembly of men，that may reduce all their Wills，by plurality of voices，unto one Will：which is as much as to say，to appoint one man，or Assembly of men，to beare their Person；and every one to owne，and acknowledge himselfe to be Author of whatsoever he that so beareth their Person，shall Act，or cause to be Acted，in those things which concerne the Common Peace and Safetie；and therein to submit their Wills，every one to his Will，and their Judgements，to his Judgment．This is more than Consent，or Concord；it is a reall Unitie of them all，in one and the same Person，made by Covenant of every man with every man，in such manner，as if every man should say to every man，I Authorise and give up my Right of Governing my selfe，to this Man，or to this Assembly of men，on this condition，that thou give up thy Right to him，and Authorise all his Actions in like manner．This done，the Multitude so united in one Person，is called a Commonwealth，in latine Civitas．This is the Generation of that great Levathan，or rather （to speake more reverently） of that Mortall God，to which wee owe under the Immortall God，our peace and defence．For by this Authoritie，given him by every particular man in the Common-Wealth，he hath the use of so much Power and Strength conferred on him，that by terror thereof，he is inabled to forme the wills of them all，to Peace at home，and mutuall ayd against their enemies abroad．And in him consisteth the Essence of the Common-wealth；which （to define it，） is One Person，of whose Acts a great Multitude，by mutuall Covenants one with another，have made themselves every one the Author，to the end he may use the strength and means of them all，as he shall think expedient，for their Peace and Common Defence．

And he that carryeth this Person，is called Soveraigne，and said to have Soveraigne Power；and every one besides，his Subject．

The attaining to this Soveraigne Power，is by two wayes．One，by Naturall force；as when a man maketh his children，to submit themselves，and their children to his government，as being able to destroy them if they refuse；or by Warre subdueth his enemies to his will，giving them their lives on that condition．Te other，is when men agree amongst themselves，to submit to some Man，or Assembly of men，voluntarily，on confidence to be protected by him against all others．This later，may be called a Politicall Common-wealth or Common-wealth by Institution；and the former，a Common-wealth by Acquisition ［...］

Of the Liberty of Subjects

Liberty，or Freedome，signifieth （properly） the absence of Opposition；（by Opposition，I mean externall Impediments of motion；） and may be applyed no lesse to Irrationall，and Inanimate creatures，than to Rationall．For whatsoever is so tyed，or environed，as it cannot move，but within a certain space，which space is determined by the opposition of some externall body，we say it hath not Liberty to go further．And so of all living creatures，whilest they are imprisoned，or restrained，with walls，or chayns；and of the water whilest it is kept in by banks，or vessels，that otherwise would spread it selfe into a larger space，we use to say，they are not at Liberty，to move in such manner，as without those externall impediments they would．But when the impediment of motion，is in the constitution of the thing it selfe，we use not to say，it wants the Liberty；but the Power to move；as when a stone lyeth still，or a man is fastned to his bed by sicknesse．

And according to this proper，and generally received meaning of the word，A Free-man，is he，that in those things，which by his strength and wit he is able to do，is not hindred to doe what he has a will to．But when the words Free，and Liberty，are applyed to any thing but Bodies，they are abused；for that which is not subject to Motion，is not subject to Impediment：And therefore，when 'tis said （for example） Te way is free，no liberty of the way is signified，but of those that walk in it without stop．And when we say a Guift is free，there is not meant any liberty of the Guilt，but of the Giver，that was not bound by any law，or Covenant to give it．So when we speak freely，it is not the liberty of voice，or pronunciation，but of the man，whom no law hath obliged to speak otherwise then he did．Lastly，from the use of the word Freewill，no liberty can be inferred to the will，desire，or inclination，but the liberty of the man；which consisteth in this，that he finds no stop，in doing what he has the will，desire，or inclination to doe．

Feare and Liberty are consistent；as when a man throweth his goods into the Sea for feare the ship should sink，he doth it neverthelesse very willingly，and may refuse to doe it if he will：It is therefore the action，of one that was free：so a man sometimes pays his debt，only for feare of Imprisonment，which because no body hindred him from detaining，was the action of a man at liberty．And generally all actions which men doe in Common-wealths，for feare of the law，or actions，which the doers had liberty to omit．

Liberty and Necessity are Consistent：As in the water，that hath not only liberty，but a necessity of descending by the Channel：so likewise in the Actions which men voluntarily doe；which （because they proceed from their will） proceed from liberty；and yet because every act of mans will，and every desire，and inclination proceedeth from some cause，and that from another cause，which causes in a continuall chaine （whose first link in the hand of God the first of all causes） proceed from necessity．So that to him that could see the connexion of those causes，the necessity of all mens voluntary actions，would appeare manifest．And therefore God，that seeth，and disposeth all things，seeth also that the liberty of man in doing what he will，is accompanied with the necessity of doing that which God will，＆no more，nor lesse．For though men may do many things，which God does not command，nor is therefore Author of them；yet they can have no passion，nor appetite to any thing，of which appetite Gods will is not the cause．And did not his will assure the necessity of mans will，and consequently of all that on mans will dependeth，the liberty of men would be a contradiction，and impediment to the omnipotence and liberty of God．And this shall suffice，（as to the matter in hand） of that naturall liberty，which only is properly called liberty．

But as men，for the atteyning of peace，and conservation of themselves thereby，have made an Artificiall Man，which we call a Common-wealth；so also have they made Artifciall Chains，called Civill Lawes，which they themselves，by mutuall covenants，have fastned at one end，to the lips of that Man，or Assembly，to whom they have given the Soveraigne Power；and at the other end to their own Ears．Tese Bonds in their own nature but weak，may neverthelesse be made to hold，by the danger，though not by the difficulty of breaking them．

In relation to these Bonds only it is，that I am to speak now，of the Liberty of Subjects．For seeing there is no Common-wealth in the world，wherein there be Rules enough set down，for the regulating of all the actions，and words of men，（as being a thing impossible：） it followeth necessarily，that in all kinds of actions，by the laws prætermitted，men have the Liberty，of doing what their own reasons shall suggest，for the most profitable to themselves．For if wee take Liberty in the proper sense，for corporall Liberty；that is to say，freedome from chains，and prison，it were very absurd for men to clamor as they doe，for the Liberty they so manifestly enjoy．Againe，if we take Liberty，for an exemption from Lawes，it is no lesse absurd，for men to demand as they doe，that Liberty，by which all other men may be masters of their lives．And yet as absurd as it is，this is it they demand；not knowing that the Lawes are of no power to protect them，without a Sword in the hands of a man，or men，to cause those laws to be put in execution．Te Liberty of a Subject，lyeth therefore only in those things，which in regulating their actions，the Soveraign hath prætermitted：such as is the Liberty to buy，and sell，and otherwise contract with one another；to choose their own aboad，their own diet，their own trade of life，and institute their children as they themselves think fit；＆the like．

Neverthelesse we are not to understand，that by such Liberty，the Soveraign Power of life，and death，is either abolished，or limited．For it has been already shewn，that nothing the Soveraign Representative can doe to a Subject，on what pretence soever，can properly be called Injustice，or Injury；because every Subject is Author of every act the Soveraign doth；so that he never wanteth Right to any thing，otherwise，than as he himself is the Subject of God，and bound thereby to observe the laws of Nature．And therefore it may，and doth ofen happen in Common-wealths，that a Subject may be put to death，by the command of the Soveraign Power；and yet neither doe the other wrong：As when Jeptha caused his daughter to be sacrifced：In which，and the like cases，he that so dieth，had Liberty to doe the action，for which he is neverthelesse，without Injury put to death．And the same holdeth also in a Soveraign Prince，that putteth to death an Innocent Subject．For though the action be against the law of Nature，as being contrary to Equitie，（as was the killing of Uriah，by David；） yet it was not an Injurie to Uriah；but to God．Not to Uriah，because the right to doe what he pleased，was given him by Uriah himself：And yet to God，because David was Gods Subject；and prohibited all Iniquitie by the law of Nature．Which distinction，David himself，when he repented the fact，evidently confirmed，saying，To thee only have I sinned．In the same manner，the people of Athens，when they banished the most potent of their Common-wealth for ten years，thought they committed no Injustice；and yet they never questioned what crime he had done；but what hurt he would doe：Nay they commanded the banishment of they knew not whom；and every Citizen bringing his Oystershell into the market place，written with the name of him he desired should be banished，without actuall accusing him，sometimes banished an Aristides，for his reputation of Justice；And sometimes a scurrilous Jester，as Hyperbolus，to make a Jest of it．And yet a man cannot say，the Soveraign People of Athens wanted right to banish them；or an Athenian the Libertie to Jest，or to be Just．

The Libertie，whereof there is so frequent，and honourable mention，in the Histories，and Philosophy of the Antient Greeks，and Romans，and in the writings，and discourse of those that from them have received all their learning in the Politiques，is not the Libertie of Particular men；but the Libertie of the Common-wealth：which is the same with that，which every man then should have，if there were no Civil Laws，nor Common-wealth at all．And the effects of it also be the same．For as amongst masterlesse men，there is perpetuall war，of every man against his neighbour；no inheritance，to transmit to the Son，nor to expect from the Father；no propriety of Goods，or Lands；no security；but a full and absolute Libertie in every Particular man：So in States，and Common-wealths not dependent on one another，every Common-wealth，（not every man） has an absolute Libertie，to doe what it shall judge （that is to say，what that Man，or Assemblie that representeth it，shall judge） most conducing to their benefit．But withall，they live in the condition of a perpetuall war，and upon the confines of battel，with their frontiers armed，and canons planted against their neighbours round about．The Athenians，and Romanes were free；that is，free Common-wealths：not that any particular men had the Libertie to resist their own Representative；but that their Representative had the Libertie to resist，or invade other people．There is written on the Turrets of the city of Luca in great characters at this day，the word LIBERTAS；yet no man can thence inferre，that a particular man has more Libertie，or Immunitie from the service of the Common-wealth there，than in Constantinople．Whether a Common-wealth be Monarchicall，or Popular，the Freedome is still the same．

But it is an easy thing，for men to be deceived，by the specious name of Libertie；and for want of Judgement to distinguish，mistake that for their Private Inheritance，and Birth right，which is the right of the Publique only．And when the same errour is confirmed by the authority of men in reputation for their writings in this subject，it is no wonder if it produce sedition，and change of Government．In these westeme parts of the world，we are made to receive our opinions concerning the Institution，and Rights of Common-wealths，from Aristotle，Cicero，and other men，Greeks and Romanes，that living under Popular States，derived those Rights，not from the Principles of Nature，but transcribed them into their books，out of the Practice of their own Common-wealths，which were Popular；as the Grammarians describe the Rules of Language，out of the Practise of the time；or the Rules of Poetry，out of the Poems of Homer and Virgil．And because the Athenians were taught，（to keep them from desire of changing their Government，） that they were Freemen，and all that lived under Monarchy were slaves；therefore Aristotle puts it down in his Politiques，（lib.6.cap.2） In democracy，Liberty is to be supposed：for 'tis commonly held，that no man is Free in any other Government．And as Aristotle；so Cicero，and other Writers have grounded their Civil doctrine，on the opinions of the Romans，who were taught to hate Monarchy，at first，by them that having deposed their Soveraign，shared amongst them the Soveraignty of Rome；and afterwards by their Successors．And by reading of these Greek，and Latine Authors，men from their childhood have gotten a habit （under a false shew of Liberty，） of favouring tumults，and of licentious controlling the actions of their Soveraigns；and again of controlling those controllers，with the efusion of so much blood；as I think I may truly say，there was never any thing so deerly bought，as these Western parts have bought the learning of the Greek and Latine tongues．

To come now to the particulars of the true Liberty of a Subject；that is to say，what are the things，which though commanded by the Soveraign，he may neverthelesse，without Injustice，refuse to do；we are to consider，what Rights we passe away，when we make a Common-wealth；or （which is all one，） what Liberty we deny our selves，by owning all the Actions （without exception） of the Man，or Assembly we make our Soveraign．For in the act of our Submission，consisteth both our Obligation，and our Liberty；which must therefore be inferred by arguments taken from thence；there being no Obligation on any man，which ariseth not from some Act of his own；for all men equally，are by Nature Free．And because such arguments，must either be drawn from the expresse words，I Authorise all his Actions，or from the Intention of him that submitteth himselfe to his Power，（which Intention is to be understood by the End for which he so submitteth；） The Obligation，and Liberty of the Subject，is to be derived，either from those Words，（or others equivalent；） or else from the End of the Institution of Soveraignty；namely，the Peace of the Subjects within themselves，and their Defence against a common Enemy．

First therefore，seeing Soveraignty by Institution，is by Covenant of every one to every one；and Soveraignty by Acquisition，by Covenants of the Vanquished to the Victor，or Child to the Parent；It is manifest，that every Subject has Liberty in all those things，the right whereof cannot by Covenant be transferred．I have shewn before in the 14．Chapter，that Covenants，not to defend a mans own body，are voyd．Terefore，

If the Soveraign command a man （though justly condemned，） to kill，wound，or mayme himselfe；or not to resist those that assault him；or to abstain from the use of food，ayre，medicine，or any other thing，without which he cannot live；yet hath that man the Liberty to disobey．

If a man be interrogated by the Soveraign，or his Authority，concerning a crime done by himselfe，he is not bound （without assurance of Pardon） to confesse it；because no man （as I have shewn in the same Chapter） can be obliged by Covenant to accuse himselfe．

Again，the Consent of a Subject to Soveraign Power，is contained in these words，I Authorise，or take upon me，all his actions；in which there is no restriction at all，of his own former naturall Liberty：For by allowing him to kill me，I am not bound to kill my selfe when he commands me．'This one thing to say，Kill me，or my fellow，if you please；another thing to say，I will kill my selfe，or my fellow．It followeth therefore，that

No man is bound by the words themselves，either to kill himselfe，or any other man；And consequently，that the Obligation a man may sometimes have，upon the Command of the Soveraign to execute any dangerous，or dishonourable Office，dependeth not on the Words of our Submission；but on the Intention；which is to be understood by the End thereof．When therefore our refusall to obey，frustrates the End for which the Soveraignty was ordained；then there is no Liberty to refuse：otherwise there is．

Upon this ground，a man that is commanded as a Souldier to fight against the enemy，though his Soveraign have Right enough to punish his refusall with death，may neverthelesse in many cases refuse，without Injustice；as when he substituteth a sufficient Souldier in his place：for in this case he deserteth not the service of the Common-wealth．And there is allowance to be made for naturall timorousnesse，not onely to women，（of whom no such dangerous duty is expected，） but also to men of feminine courage．When Armies fght，there is on one side，or both，a running away；yet when they do it not out of trechery，but fear，they are not esteemed to do it unjustly，but dishonourably．For the same reason，to avoyd batten，is not Injustice，but Cowardise．But he that inrowleth himselfe a Souldier，or taketh imprest mony，taketh away the excuse of a timorous nature；and is obliged，not onely to go to the battell，but also not to run from it，without his Captaines leave．And when the Defence of the Common-wealth，requireth at once the help of all that are able to bear Arms，every one is obliged；because otherwise the Institution of the Common-wealth，which they have not the purpose，or courage to preserve，was in vain．

To resist the Sword of the Common-wealth，in defence of another man，guilty，or innocent，no man hath Liberty；because such Liberty，takes away from the Soveraign，the means of Protecting us；and is therefore destructive of the very essence of Government．But in case a great many men together，have already resisted the Soveraign Power unjustly，or committed some Capitall crime，for which every one of them expecteth death，whether have they not the Liberty then to joyn together，and assist，and defend one another？Certainly they have：For they but defend their lives，which the Guilty man may as well do，as the Innocent．There was indeed injustice in the first breach of their duty；Their bearing of Arms subsequent to it，though it be to maintain what they have done，is no new unjust act．And if it be onely to defend their persons，it is not unjust at all．But the ofer of Pardon taketh from them，to whom it is offered，the plea of self-defence，and maketh their perseverance in assisting，or defending the rest，unlawfull．

As for other Lyberties，they depend on the silence of the Law．In cases where the Soveraign has prescribed no rule，there the Subject hath the liberty to do，or forbeare，according to his own discretion．And therefore such Liberty is in some places more，and in some lesse；and in some times more，in other times lesse，according as they that have the Soveraignty shall think most convenient．As for Example，there was a time，when in England a man might enter in to his own Land，（and dispossesse such as wrongfully possessed it） by force．But in afer-times，that Liberty of Forcible entry，was taken away by a Statute made （by the King） in Parliament．And in some places of the world，men have the Liberty of many wives：in other places，such Liberty is not allowed．

If a Subject have a controversie with his Soveraigne，of Debt，or of right of possession of lands or goods，or concerning any service required at his hands，or concerning any penalty corporall，or pecuniary，grounded on a precedent Law；He hath the same Liberty to sue for his right，as if it were against a Subject；and before such Judges，as are appointed by the Soveraign．For seeing the Soveraign demandeth by force of a former Law，and not by vertue of his Power；he declareth thereby，that he requireth no more，than shall appear to be due by that Law．Te sute therefore is not contrary to the will of the Soveraign；and consequently the Subject hath the Liberty to demand the hearing of his Cause；and sentence，according to that Law．But if he demand，or take any thing by pretence of his Power；there lyeth，in that case，no action of Law：for all that is done by him in Vertue of his Power，is done by the Authority of every subject，and consequently，he that brings an action against the Soveraign，brings it against himselfe．

If a Monarch，or Soveraign Assembly，grant a Liberty to all，or any of his Subjects；which Grant standing，he is disabled to provide for their safety，the Grant is voyd；unlesse he directly renounce，or transferre the Soveraignty to another．For in that he might openly，（if it had been his will，） and in plain termes，have renounced，or transferred it，and did not；it is to be understood it was not his will；but that the Grant proceeded from ignorance of the repugnancy between such a Liberty and the Soveraign Power；and therefore the Soveraignty is still retayned；and consequently all those Powers，which are necessary to the exercising thereof；such as are the Power of Warre，and Peace，of Judicature，of appointing Ofcers，and Councellours，of levying Mony，and the rest named in the 18th Chapter．[1]

The Obligation of Subjects to the Soveraign，is understood to last as long，and no longer，than the power lasteth，by which he is able to protect them．For the right men have by Nature to protect themselves，when none else can protect them，can by no Covenant be relinquished．The Soveraignty is the Soule of the Common-wealth；which once departed from the Body，the members doe no more receive their motion from it．The end of Obedience is Protection；which，wheresoever a man seeth it，either in his own，or in anothers sword，Nature applyeth his obedience to it，and his endeavour to maintaine it．And though Soveraignty，in the intention of them that make it，be immortall；yet is it in its own nature，not only subject to violent death，by forreign war；but also through the ignorance，and passions of men，it hath in it，from the very institution，many seeds of a naturall mortality，by Intestine Discord．

If a Subject be taken prisoner in war；or his person，or his means of life be within the Guards of the enemy，and hath his life and corporall Libertie given him，on condition to be Subject to the Victor，he hath Libertie to accept the condition；and having accepted it，is the subject of him that took him；because he had no other way to preserve himselfe．The case is the same，if he be deteined on the same termes，in a forreign country．But if a man be held in prison，or bonds，or is not trusted with the libertie of his bodie；he cannot be understood to be bound by Covenant to subjection；and therefore may，if he can，make his escape by any means whatsoever．

If a Monarch shall relinquish the Soveraignty，both for himself，and his heires；His Subjects returne to the absolute Libertie of Nature；because，though Nature may declare who are his Sons，and who are the nerest of his Kin；yet it dependeth on his own will，（as hath been said in the precedent chapter，） who shall be his Heyr．If therefore he will have no Heyre，there is no Soveraignty，nor Subjection．Te case is the same，if he dye without known Kindred，and without declaration of his Heyre．For then there can no Heire be known，and consequently no Subjection be due．

If the Soveraign Banish his Subject；during the Banishment，he is not Subject．But he that is sent on a message，or hath leave to travell，is still Subject；but it is，by Contract between Soveraigns，not by vertue of the covenant of Subjection．For whosoever entreth into anothers dominion，is Subject to all the Lawes thereof；unlesse he have a privilege by the amity of the Soveraigns，or by speciall licence．

If a Monarch subdued by war，render himself Subject to the Victor；his Subjects are delivered from their former obligation，and become obliged to the Victor．But if he be held prisoner，or have not the liberty of his own Body；he is not understood to have given away the Right of Soveraigntie；and therefore his Subjects are obliged to yield obedience to the Magistrates formerly placed，governing not in their own name，but in his．For，his Right remaining，the question is only of the Administration；that is to say，of the Magistrates and Officers；which，if he have not means to name，he is supposed to approve those，which he himself had formerly appointed．

［…］

Of those things that Weaken，or tend to the Dissolution of a Common-wealth

Though nothing can be immortall，which mortals make；yet，if men had the use of reason they pretend to，their Common-wealths might be secured，at least，from perishing by internall diseases．For by the nature of their Institution，they are designed to live，as long as Man-kind，or as the Lawes of Nature，or as Justice it selfe，which gives them life．Terefore when they come to be dissolved，not by extemall violence，but intestine disorder，the fault is not in men，as they are the Matter；but as they are the Makers，and orderers of them．For men，as they become at last weary of irregular justling，and hewing one another，and desire with all their hearts，to conforme themselves into one firme and lasting edifce；so for want，both of the art of making ft Lawes，to square their actions by，and also of humility，and patience，to sufer the rude and combersome points of their present greatnesse to be taken off，they cannot without the help of a very able Architect，be compiled，into any other than a crasie building，such as hardly lasting out their own time，must assuredly fall upon the heads of their posterity．

Amongst the Infirmities therefore of a Common-wealth，I will reckon in the first place，those that arise from an Imperfect Institution，and resemble the diseases of a naturall body，which proceed from a Defectuous Procreation．

Of which，this is one，That a man to obtain a Kingdome，is sometimes content with lesse Power，than to the Peace，and defence of the Common-wealth is necessarily required．From whence it commeth to passe，that when the exercise of the Power layd by，is for the publique safety to be resumed，it hath the resemblance of an unjust act；which disposeth great numbers of men （when occasion is presented） to rebell；In the same manner as the bodies of children，gotten by diseased parents，are subject either to untimely death，or to purge the ill quality，derived from their vicious conception，by breaking out into biles and scabbs．And when Kings deny themselves some such necessary Power，it is not alwayes （though sometimes） out of ignorance of what is necessary to the office they undertake；but many times out of a hope to recover the same again at their pleasure：Wherein they reason not well；because such as will hold them to their promises，shall be maintained against them by forraign Common-wealths；who in order to the good of their own Subjects let slip few occasions to weaken the estate of their Neighbours．So was Thomas Becket Archbishop of Canterbury，supported against Henry the Second，by the Pope；the subjection of Ecclesiastiques to the Common-wealth，having been dispensed with by William the Conquerour at his reception，when he took an Oath，not to infringe the liberty of the Church．And so were the Barons，whose power was by William Rufus （to have their help in transferring the Succession from his Elder brother，to himselfe，） encreased to a degree，inconsistent with the Soveraign Power，maintained in their Rebellion against King John，by the French．

Nor does this happen in Monarchy onely．For whereas the stile of the antient Roman Common-wealth，was，The Senate，and People of Rome；neither Senate，nor People pretended to the whole Power；which first caused the seditions，of Tiberius Gracchus，Caius Gracchus，Lucius Saturninus，and others；and afterwards the warres between the Senate and the People，under Marius and Sylla；and again under Pompey and ，to the Extinction of their Democraty，and the setting up of Monarchy．

The people of Athens bound themselves but from one onely Action；which was，that no man on pain of death should propound the renewing of the warre for the Island of Salamis；And yet thereby，if Solon had not caused to be given out he was mad，and afterwards in gesture and habit of a mad-man，and in verse，propounded it to the People that flocked about him，they had had an enemy perpetually in readinesse，even at the gates of their Citie；such dammage，or shifts，are all Common-wealths forced to，that have their Power never so little limited．

In the second place，I observe the Diseases of a Common-wealth，that proceed from the poyson of seditious doctrines；whereof one is，That every private man is Judge of Good and Evill actions．This is true in the condition of meer Nature，where there are no Civill Lawes；and also under Civill Government，in such cases as are not determined by the Law．But otherwise，it is manifest，that the measure of Good and Evill actions，is the Civill Law；and the Judge the Legislator，who is alwayes Representative of the Common-wealth．From this false doctrine，men are disposed to debate with themselves，and dispute the commands of the Common-wealth；and afterwards to obey，or disobey them，as in their private judgements they shall think fit．Whereby the Common-wealth is distracted and Weakened．

Another doctrine repugnant to Civill Society，is，that whatsoever a man does against his Conscience，is Sinne；and it dependeth on the presumption of making himself judge of Good and Evill．For a mans Conscience，and his Judgement is the same thing；and as the Judgement，so also the Conscience may be erroneous．Therefore，though he that is subject to no Civill Law，sinneth in all he does against his Conscience，because he has no other rule to follow but his own reason；yet it is not so with him that byes in a Common-wealth；because the Law is the publique Conscience，by which he hath already undertaken to be guided．Otherwise in such diversity，as there is of private Consciences，which are but private opinions，the Common-wealth must needs be distracted，and no man dare to obey the Soveraign Power，farther than it shall seem good in his own eyes．

It hath been also commonly taught，That Faith and Sanctity，are not to be attained by Study and Reason，but by supernaturall Inspiration，or Infusion，which granted，I see not why any man should render a reason of his Faith；or why every Christian should not be also a Prophet；or why any man should take the Law of his Country，rather than his own Inspiration，for the rule of his action．And thus wee fall again into the fault of taking upon us to Judge of Good and Evill；or to make Judges of it，such private men as pretend to be supernaturally Inspired，to the Dissolution of all Civill Government．Faith comes by hearing，and hearing by those accidents，which guide us into the presence of them that speak to us；which accidents are all contrived by God Almighty；and yet are not supernaturall，but onely，for the great number of them that concurre to every efect，unobservable．Faith，and Sanctity，are indeed not very frequent；but yet they are not Miracles，but brought to passe by education，discipline，correction，and other naturall wayes，by which God worketh them in his elect，at such time as he thinketh fit．And these three opinions，pernicious to Peace and Government，have in this part of the world，proceeded chiefly from the tongues，and pens of unlearned Divines；who joyning the words of Holy Scripture together，otherwise than is agreeable to reason，do what they can，to make men think，that Sanctity and Naturall Reason，cannot stand together．

A fourth opinion，repugnant to the nature of a Common-wealth，is this，That he that hath the Soveraign Power，is subject to the Civill Lawes．It is true，that Soveraigns are all subjects to the Lawes of Nature；because such lawes be Divine，and cannot by any man，or Common-wealth be abrogated．But to those Lawes which the Soveraign himselfe，that is，which the Common-wealth maketh，he is not subject．For to be subject to Lawes，is to be subject to the Common-wealth，that is to the Soveraign Representative，that is to himselfe，which is not subjection，but freedome from the Lawes．Which errour，because it setteth the Lawes above the Soveraign，setteth also a Judge above him，and a Power to punish him；which is to make a new Soveraign；and again for the same reason a third，to punish the second；and so continually without end，to the Confusion，and Dissolution of the Commonwealth．

A Fifth doctrine，that tendeth to the Dissolution of a Common-wealth，is，That every private man has an absolute Propriety in his Goods；such，as excludeth the Right of the Soveraign．Every man has indeed a Propriety that excludes the Right of every other Subject：And he has it onely from the Soveraign Power；without the protection whereof，every other man should have equall Right to the same．But if the Right of the Soveraign also be excluded，he cannot performe the office they have put him into；which is，to defend them both from forraign enemies，and from the injuries of one another；and consequently there is no longer a Common-wealth．

And if the Propriety of Subjects，exclude not the Right of the Soveraign Representative to their Goods；much lesse to their offices of Judicature，or Execution，in which they Represent the Soveraign himselfe．

Tere is a Sixth doctrine，plainly，and directly against the essence of a Common-wealth；and 'tis this，That the Soveraign Power may be divided．For what is it to divide the Power of a Common-wealth，but to Dissolve it；for Powers divided mutually destroy each other．And for these doctrines，men are chiefly beholding to some of those，that making profession of the Lawes，endeavour to make them depend upon their own learning，and not upon the Legislative Power．

And as False Doctrine，so also often-times the Example of different Government in a neighbouring Nation，disposeth men to alteration of the forme already setled．So the people of the Jewes were stirred up to reject God，and to call upon the Prophet Samuel，for a King after the manner of the Nations：So also the lesser Cities of Greece，were continually disturbed，with seditions of the Aristocraticall，and Democraticall factions；one part of almost every Common-wealth，desiring to imitate the Lacedæmonians，the other，the Athenians．And I doubt not，but many men，have been contented to see the late troubles in England，out of an imitation of the Low Countries；supposing there needed no more to grow rich，than to change，as they had done，the forme of their Government．For the constitution of mans nature，is of it selfe subject to desire novelty：When therefore they are provoked to the same，by the neighbourhood also of those that have been enriched by it，it is almost impossible for them，not to be content with those that solicite them to change；and love the first beginnings，though they be grieved with the continuance of disorder；like hot blouds，that having gotten the itch，tear themselves with their own nayles，till they can endure the smart no longer．

And as to Rebellion in particular against Monarchy；one of the most frequent causes of it，is the Reading of the books of Policy，and Histories of the antient Greeks，and Romans；from which，young men，and all others that are unprovided of the Antidote of solid Reason，receiving a strong，and delightfull impression，of the great exploits of warre，atchieved by the Conductors of their Armies，receive withall a pleasing Idea，of all they have done besides；and imagine their great prosperity，not to have proceeded from the æmulation of particular men，but from the vertue of their popular forme of government：Not considering the frequent Seditions，and Civill warres，produced by the imperfection of their Policy．From the reading，I say，of such books，men have undertaken to kill their Kings，because the Greek and Latine writers，in their books，and discourses of Policy，make it lawfull，and laudable，for any man so to do；provided before he do it，he call him Tyrant．For they say not Regicide，that is，killing of a King，but Tyrannicide，that is，killing of a Tyrant is lawfull．From the same books，they that live under a Monarch conceive an opinion，that the Subjects in a Popular Common-wealth enjoy Liberty；but that in a Monarchy they are all Slaves．I say，they that live under a Monarchy conceive such an opinion；not they that live under a Popular Government：for they find no such matter．In summe，I cannot imagine，how anything can be more prejudiciall to a Monarchy，than the allowing of such books to be publikely read，without present applying such correctives of discreet Masters，as are fit to take away their Venime：Which Venime I will not doubt to compare to the biting of a mad Dogge，which is a disease the Physicians call Hydrophobia，or fear of Water．For as he that is so bitten，has a continuall torment of thirst，and yet abhorreth water；and is in such an estate，as if the poyson endeavoured to convert him into a Dogge：So when a Monarchy is once bitten to the quick，by those Democraticall writers，that continually snarle at that estate；it wanteth nothing more than a strong Monarch，which neverthelesse out of a certain Tyrannophobia，or feare of being strongly governed，when they have him，they abhorre．

As there have been Doctors，that hold there be three Soules in a man；so there be also that think there may be more Soules，（that is；more Soveraigns，） than one，in a Common-wealth；and set up a Supremacy against the Soveraignty；Canons against Lawes；and a Ghostly Authority against the Civill；working on mens minds，with words and distinctions，that of themselves signifie nothing，but bewray （by their obscurity） that there walketh （as some think invisibly） another Kingdome，as it were a Kingdome of Fayries，in the dark．Now seeing it is manifest，that the Civill Power，and the Power of the Common-wealth is the same thing；and that Supremacy，and the Power of making Canons，and granting Faculties，implyeth a Common-wealth；it followeth，that where one is Soveraign，another Supreme；where one can make Lawes，and another make Canons；there must needs be two Common-wealths，of one ＆ the same Subjects；which is a Kingdome divided in it selfe，and cannot stand．For notwithstanding the insignificant distinction of Temporall，and Ghostly，they are still two Kingdomes，and every Subject is subject to two Masters．For seeing the Ghostly Power challengeth the Right to declare what is Sinne it challengeth by consequence to declare what is Law，（Sinne being nothing but the transgression of the Law；） and again，the Civill Power challenging to declare what is Law，every Subject must obey two Masters，who both will have their Commands be observed as Law；which is impossible．Or，if it be but one Kingdome，either the Civill，which is the Power of the Common-wealth，must be subordinate to the Ghostly，and then there is no Soveraignty but the Ghostly；or the Ghostly must be subordinate to the Temporall and then there is no Supremacy but the Temporall．When therefore these two Powers oppose one another，the Common-wealth cannot but be in great danger of Civill warre，and Dissolution．For the Civill Authority being more visible，and standing in the cleerer light of naturall reason cannot choose but draw to it in all times a very considerable part of the people：And the Spirituall，though it stand in the darknesse of Schoole distinctions，and hard words；yet because the fear of Darknesse，and Ghosts，is greater than other fears，cannot want a party sufficient to Trouble，and sometimes to Destroy a Common-wealth．And this is a Disease which not unfitly may be compared to the Epilepsie，or Falling-sicknesse （which the Jewes took to be one kind of possession by Spirits） in the Body Naturall．For as in this Disease，there is an unnaturall spirit，or wind in the head that obstructeth the roots of the Nerves，and moving them violently，taketh away the motion which naturally they should have from the power of the Soule in the Brain，and thereby causeth violent，and irregular motions （which men call Convulsions） in the parts；insomuch as he that is seized therewith，falleth down sometimes into the water，and sometimes into the fre，as a man deprived of his senses；so also in the Body Politique，when the Spirituall power，moveth the Members of a Common-wealth，by the terrour of punishments，and hope of rewards （which are the Nerves of it，） otherwise than by the Civill Power （which is the Soule of the Common-wealth） they ought to be moved；and by strange，and hard words suffocates their understanding，it must needs thereby Distract the people，and either Overwhelm the Common-wealth with Oppression，or cast it into the Fire of a Civill warre．

Sometimes also in the meerly Civill government，there be more than one Soule：As when the Power of levying mony，（which is the Nutritive faculty，） has depended on a generall Assembly；the Power of conduct and command，（which is the Motive faculty，） on one man；and the Power of making Lawes，（which is the Rationall faculty，） on the accidentall consent，not onely of those two，but also of a third；This endangereth the Common-wealth，somtimes for want of consent to good Lawes；but most often for want of such Nourishment，as is necessary to Life，and Motion．For although few perceive，that such government，is not government，but division of the Common-wealth into three Factions，and call it mixt Monarchy；yet the truth is，that it is not one independent Common-wealth，but three independent Factions；nor one Representative Person，but three．In the Kingdome of God，there may be three Persons independent，without breach of unity in God that Reigneth；but where men Reigne，that be subject to diversity of opinions，it cannot be so．And therefore if the King bear the person of the People，and the generall Assembly bear also the person of the People，and another Assembly bear the person of a Part of the people，they are not one Person，nor one Soveraign，but three Persons，and three Soveraigns．

To what Disease in the Naturall Body of man，I may exactly compare this irregularity of a Common-wealth，I know not．But I have seen a man，that had another man growing out of his side，with an head，armes，breast，and stomach，of his own：If he had had another man growing out of his other side，the comparison might then have been exact．

Hitherto I have named such Diseases of a Common-wealth，as are of the greatest，and most present danger．There be other，not so great；which neverthelesse are not unft to be observed．As first，the difficulty of raising Mony，for the necessary uses of the Common-wealth；especially in the approach of warre．This difficulty ariseth from the opinion，that every Subject hath of a Propriety in his lands and goods，exclusive of the Soveraigns Right to the use of the same．From whence it commeth to passe，that the Soveraign Power，which foreseeth the necessities and dangers of the Common-wealth，（finding the passage of mony to the publique Treasure obstructed，by the tenacity of the people，） whereas it ought to extend it selfe，to encounter，and prevent such dangers in their beginnings，contracteth it selfe as long as it can，and when it cannot longer，struggles with the people by stratagems of Law，to obtain little summes，which not sufficing，he is fain at last violently to open the way for present supply，or Perish；and being put ofen to these extremities，at last reduceth the people to their due temper；or else the Common-wealth must perish．Insomuch as we may compare this Distemper very aptly to an Ague；wherein，the fleshy parts being congealed，or by venomous matter obstructed；the Veins which by their naturall course empty themselves into the Heart，are not （as they ought to be） supplyed from the Arteries，whereby there succeedeth at first a cold contraction，and trembling of the limbes；and afterwards a hot，and strong endeavour of the Heart，to force a passage for the Bloud；and before it can do that，contenteth it selfe with the small refreshments of such things as coole for a time，till （if Nature be strong enough） it break at last the contumacy of the parts obstructed，and dissipateth the venome into sweat；or （if Nature be too weak） the Patient dyeth．

Again，there is sometimes in a Common-wealth，a Disease，which resembleth the Pleurisie；and that is，when the Treasure of the Common-wealth，flowing out of its due course，is gathered together in too much abundance，in one，or a few private men，by Monopolies，or by Farmes of the Publique Revenues；in the same manner as the Blood in a Pleurisie，getting into the Membrane of the breast，breedeth there an Inflammation，accompanied with a Fever，and painfull stiches．

Also，the Popularity of a potent Subject，（unlesse the Common-wealth have very good caution of his fidelity，） is a dangerous Disease；because the people （which should receive their motion from the Authority of the Soveraign，） by the flattery，and by the reputation of an ambitious man，are drawn away from their obedience to the Lawes，to follow a man，of whose vertues，and designes they have no knowledge．And this is commonly of more danger in a Popular Government，than in a Monarchy；because an Army is of so great force，and multitude，as it may easily be made believe，they are the People．By this means it was，that Julius ，who was set up by the People against the Senate，having won to himselfe the affections of his Army，made himselfe Master，both of Senate and People．And this proceeding of popular，and ambitious men，is plain Rebellion；and may be resembled to the effects of Witchcraf．

Another infirmity of a Common-wealth，is the immoderate greatnesse of a Town，when it is able to furnish out of its own Circuit，the number，and expence of a great Army：As also the great number of Corporations；which are as it were many lesser Common-wealths in the bowels of a greater，like wormes in the entrayles of a naturall man．To which may be added，the Liberty of Disputing against absolute Power，by pretenders to Politicall Prudence；which though bred for the most part in the Lees of the people；yet animated by False Doctrines，are perpetually medling with the Fundamentall Lawes，to the molestation of the Common-wealth；like the little Wormes，which Physicians call Ascarides．

We may further adde，the insatiable appetite，or Bulimia，of enlarging Dominion；with the incurable Wounds thereby many times received from the enemy；And the Wens，of ununited conquests，which are many times a burthen，and with lesse danger lost，than kept；As also the Lethargy of Ease，and Consumption of Riot and Vain Expence．

Lastly，when in a warre （forraign，or intestine，） the enemies get a final Victory；so as （the forces of the Common-wealth keeping the field no longer） there is no farther protection of Subjects in their loyalty；then is the Common-wealth Dissolved，and every man at liberty to protect himselfe by such courses as his own discretion shall suggest unto him．For the Soveraign，is the publique Soule，giving Life and Motion to the Common-wealth；which expiring，the Members are governed by it no more，than the Carcasse of a man，by his departed （though Immortall） Soule．For though the Right of a Soveraign Monarch cannot be extinguished by the act of another；yet the Obligation of the members may．For he that wants protection，may seek it anywhere；and when he hath it，is obliged （without fraudulent pretence of having submitted himselfe out of fear，） to protect his Protection as long as he is able．But when the Power of an Assembly is once suppressed，the Right of the same perisheth utterly；because the Assembly it selfe is extinct；and consequently，there is no possibility for the Soveraignty to re-enter．

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[1] Not included here．

Of the Kingdome of Darknesse

Of Darknesse from Vain Philosophy，and Fabulous Traditions

By Philosophy，is understood the Knowledge acquired by Reasoning，from the Manner of the Generation of any thing，to the Properties；or from the Properties，to some possible Way of Generation of the same；to the end to bee able to produce，as far as matter，and humane force permit，such Effects，as humane life requireth．So the Geometrician，from the Construction of Figures，findeth out many Properties thereof；and from the Properties，new Ways of their Construction，by Reasoning；to the end to be able to measure Land，and Water；and for infinite other uses．So the Astronomer，from the Rising，Setting，and Moving of the Sun，and Starres，in divers parts of the Heavens，findeth out the Causes of Day，and Night，and of the different Seasons of the Year；whereby he keepeth an account of Time：And the like of other Sciences．

By which Definition it is evident，that we are not to account as any part thereof，that originall knowledge called Experience，in which consisteth Prudence：Because it is not attained by Reasoning，but found as well in Brute Beasts，as in Man；and is but a Memory of successions of events in times past，wherein the omission of every little circumstance altering the efect，frustrateth the expectation of the most Prudent：whereas nothing is produced by Reasoning aright，but generall，eternall，and immutable Truth．

Nor are we therefore to give that name to any false Conclusions：For he that Reasoneth aright in words he understandeth，can never conclude an Error：

Nor to that which any man knows by supernaturall Revelation；because it is not acquired by Reasoning：

Nor that which is gotten by Reasoning from the Authority of Books；because it is not by Reasoning from the Cause to the Effect，nor from the Effect to the Cause；and is not Knowledg，but Faith．

Te faculty of Reasoning being consequent to the use of Speech，it was not possible，but that there should have been some generall Truthes found out by Reasoning，as ancient almost as Language it selfe．The Savages of America，are not without some good Morall Sentences；also they have a little Arithmetick，to adde，and divide in Numbers not too great：but they are not therefore Philosophers．For as there were Plants of Corn and Wine in small quantity dispersed in the Fields and Woods，before men knew their vertue，or made use of them for their nourishment，or planted them apart in Fields，and Vineyards；in which time they fed on Akorns，and drank Water：so also there have been divers true，generall，and profitable Speculations from the beginning；as being the naturall plants of humane Reason：But they were at first but few in number；men lived upon grosse Experience；there was no Method；that is to say，no Sowing，nor Planting of Knowledge by it self，apart from the Weeds，and common Plants of Errour and Conjecture：And the cause of it being the want of leasure from procuring the necessities of life，and defending themselves against their neighbors，it was impossible，till the erecting of great Common-wealths，it should be otherwise．Leasure is the mother of Philosophy；and Common-wealth，the mother of Peace，and Leasure：Where first were great and flourishing Cities，there was first the study of Philosophy．The Gymnosophists of India，the Magi of Persia，and the Priests of and Egypt，are counted the most ancient Philosophers；and those Countreys were the most ancient of Kingdomes．Philosophy was not risen to the ，and other people of the West，whose Commonwealths （no greater perhaps then Lucca，or Geneva） had never Peace，but when their fears of one another were equall；nor the Leasure to observe any thing but one another．At length，when Warre had united many of these lesser Cities，into fewer，and greater；then began Seven men，of severall parts of Greece，to get the reputation of being Wise；some of them for Morall and Politique Sentences；and others for the learning of the and Egyptians，which was Astronomy，and Geometry．But we hear not yet of any Schools of Philosophy．

Afer the Athenians by the overthrow of the Persian Armies，had gotten the Dominion of the Sea；and thereby，of all the Islands，and Maritime Cities of the Archipelago，as well of Asia as Europe；and were grown wealthy；they that had no employment，neither at home，nor abroad，had little else to employ themselves in，but either （as St．Luke says，Acts 17.21.） in telling and hearing news，or in discoursing of Philosophy publiquely to the youth of the City．Every Master took some place for that purpose．Plato in certain publique Walks called Academia，from one Academus：Aristotle in the Walk of the Temple of Pan，called ：others in the Stoa，or covered Walk，wherein the Merchants Goods were brought to land：others in other places；where they spent the time of their Leasure，in teaching or in disputing of their Opinions：and some in any place，where they could get the youth of the City together to hear them talk．And this was it which Carneades also did at Rome，when he was Ambassadour：which caused Cato to advise the Senate to dispatch him quickly，for feare of corrupting the manners of the young men that delighted to hear him speak （as they thought） fne things．

From this it was，that the place where any of them taught，and disputed，was called Schola，which in their Tongue signifieth Leasure；and their Disputations，，that is to say，Passing of the time．Also the Philosophers themselves had the name of their Sects，some of them from these their Schools：For they that followed Plato's Doctrine，were called Academiques；Te followers of Aristotle，Peripatetiques，from the Walk hee taught in；and those that Zeno taught，Stoiques，from the Stoa：as if we should denominate men from More-fields，from Pauls-Church，and from the Exchange，because they meet there ofen，to prate and loyter．

Neverthelesse，men were so much taken with this custome，that in time it spread it selfe over all Europe，and the best part of Afrique；so as there were Schools publiquely erected，and maintained for Lectures，and Disputations，almost in every Common-wealth．

Tere were also Schools，anciently，both before，and afer the time of our Saviour，amongst the Jews：but they were Schools of their Law．For though they were called Synagogues，that is to say，Congregations of the People；yet in as much as the Law was every Sabbath day read，expounded，and disputed in them，they differed not in nature，but in name onely from Pubhque Schools；and were not onely in Jerusalem，but in every City of the Gentiles，where the Jews inhabited．There was such a Schoole at Damascus，whereinto Paul entred，to persecute．There were others at Antioch，Iconium and Tessalonica，whereinto he entred，to dispute：And such was the Synagogue of the Libertines，Cyrenians，Alexandrians，Cilicians，and those of Asia；that is to say，the Schoole of Libertines，and of Jewes，that were strangers in Jerusalem：And of this Schoole they were that disputed （Act．6.9.） with Saint Steven．

But what has been the Utility of those Schools？what Science is there at this day acquired by their Readings and Disputings？That wee have of Geometry，which is the Mother of all Naturall Science，wee are not indebted for it to the Schools．Plato that was the best Philosopher of the Greeks，forbad entrance into his Schoole，to all that were not already in some measure Geometricians．There were many that studied that Science to the great advantage of mankind：but there is no mention of their Schools；nor was there any Sect of Geometricians；nor did they then passe under the name of Philosophers．Te naturall Philosophy of those Schools，was rather a Dream than Science，and set forth in senselesse and insignificant Language；which cannot be avoided by those that will teach Philosophy，without having first attained great knowledge in Geometry：For Nature worketh by Motion；the Wayes，and Degrees whereof cannot be known，without the knowledge of the Proportions and Properties of Lines，and Figures．Their Morall Philosophy is but a description of their own Passions．For the rule of Manners，without Civill Government，is the Law of Nature；and in it，the Law Civill；that determineth what is Honest，and Dishonest；what is Just，and Unjust；and generally what is Good，and Evill：whereas they make the Rules of Good，and Bad，by their own Liking，and Disliking：By which means，in so great diversity of taste，there is nothing generally agreed on；but every one doth （as far as he dares） whatsoever seemeth good in his owne eyes，to the subversion of Common-wealth．Their Logique which should bee the Method of Reasoning，is nothing else but Captions of Words，and Inventions how to puzzle such as should goe about to pose them．To conclude，there is nothing so absurd，that the old Philosophers （as Cicero saith，who was one of them） have not some of them maintained．And I beleeve that scarce any thing can be more absurdly said in naturall Philosophy，than that which now is called Aristotles Metaphysiques；nor more repugnant to Government，than much of that hee hath said in his Politiques；nor more ignorantly，than a great part of his Ethiques．

The Schoole of the Jews，was originally a Schoole of the Law of Moses；who commanded （Deut．31.10.） that at the end of every seventh year，at the Feast of the Tabernacles，it should be read to all the people，that they might hear，and learn it：Therefore the reading of the Law （which was in use after the Captivity） every Sabbath day，ought to have had no other end，but the acquainting of the people with the Commandements which they were to obey，and to expound unto them the writings of the Prophets．But it is manifest，by the many reprehensions of them by our Saviour，that they corrupted the Text of the Law with their false Commentaries，and vain Traditions；and so little understood the Prophets，that they did neither acknowledge Christ，nor the works he did；of which the Prophets prophecyed．So that by their Lectures and Disputations in their Synagogues，they turned the Doctrine of their Law into a Phantasticall kind of Philosophy，concerning the incomprehensible nature of God，and of Spirits；which they compounded of the Vain Philosophy and Theology of the Gr cians，mingled with their own fancies，drawn from the obscurer places of the Scripture，and which might most easily bee wrested to their purpose；and from the Fabulous Traditions of their Ancestors．

That which is now called an University，is a Joyning together，and an Incorporation under one Government of many Publique Schools，in one and the same Town or City．In which，the principall Schools were ordained for the three Professions，that is to say，of the Romane Religion，of the Romane Law，and of the Art of Medicine．And for the study of Philosophy it hath no otherwise place，then as a handmaid to the Romane Religion：And since the Authority of Aristotle is onely current there，that study is not properly Philosophy，（the nature whereof dependeth not on Authors，） but Aristotelity．And for Geometry，till of very late times it had no place at all；as being subservient to nothing but rigide Truth．And if any man by the ingenuity of his owne nature，had attained to any degree of perfection therein，hee was commonly thought a Magician，and his Art Diabolicall．

Now to descend to the particular Thenets of Vain Philosophy，derived to the Universities，and thence into the Church，partly from Aristotle，partly from Blindnesse of understanding；I shall first consider their Principles．There is a certain Philosophia prima，on which all other Philosophy ought to depend；and consisteth principally，in right limiting of the significations of such Appellations，or Names，as are of all others the most Universall：Which Limitations serve to avoid ambiguity，and quivocation in Reasoning；and are commonly called Definitions；such as are the Definitions of Body，Time，Place，Matter，Forrne，Essence，Subject，Substance，Accident，Power，Act，Finite，Infnite，Quantity，Quality，Motion，Action，Passion，and divers others，necessary to the explaining of a mans Conceptions concerning the Nature and Generation of Bodies．The Explication（that is，the setling of the meaning） of which，and the like Terms，is commonly in the Schools called Metaphysiques；as being a part of the Philosophy of Aristotle，which hath that for title：but it is in another sense；for there it signifieth as much，as Books written，or placed after his naturall Philosophy：But the Schools take them for Books of supernaturall Philosophy：for the word Metaphysiques will bear both these senses．And indeed that which is there written，is for the most part so far from the possibility of being understood，and so repugnant to naturall Reason，that whosoever thinketh there is any thing to bee understood by it，must needs think it supematurall．

From these Metaphysiques，which are mingled with the Scripture to make Schoole Divinity，wee are told，there be in the world certaine Essences separated from Bodies，which they call Abstract Essences，and Substantiall Formes：For the Interpreting of which Jargon，there is need of somewhat more than ordinary attention in this place．Also I ask pardon of those that are not used to this kind of Discourse，for applying my selfe to those that are．Te World，（I mean not the Earth onely，that denominates the Lovers of it Worldly men，but the Universe，that is，the whole masse of all things that are） is Corporeall，that is to say，Body；and hath the dimensions of Magnitude，namely，Length，Bredth，and Depth：also every part of Body，is likewise Body，and hath the like dimensions；and consequently every part of the Universe，is Body，and that which is not Body，is no part of the Universe：And because the Universe is All，that which is no part of it，is Nothing；and consequently no where．Nor does it follow from hence，that Spirits are nothing：for they have dimensions，and are therefore really Bodies；though that name in common Speech be given to such Bodies onely，as are visible，or palpable；that is，that have some degree of Opacity：But for Spirits，they call them Incorporeall；which is a name of more honour，and may therefore with more piety bee attributed to God himselfe；in whom wee consider not what Attribute expresseth best his Nature，which is Incomprehensible；but what best expresseth our desire to honour Him．

To know now upon what grounds they say there be Essences Abstract，or Substantiall Formes，wee are to consider what those words do properly signifie．Te use of Words，is to register to our selves，and make manifest to others the Toughts and Conceptions of our Minds．Of which Words，some are the names of the Things conceived；as the names of all sorts of Bodies，that work upon the Senses，and leave an Impression in the Imagination：Others are the names of the Imaginations themselves；that is to say，of those Ideas，or mentall Images we have of all things wee see，or remember：And others againe are names of Names；or of different sorts of Speech：As Universall，Plurall，Singular，are the names of Names；and Definition，Affirmation，Negation，True，False，Syllogisme，Interrogation，Promise，Covenant，are the names of certain Forms of Speech．Others serve to shew the Consequence，or Repugnance of one name to another；as when one saith，A Man is a Body，bee intendeth that the name of Body is necessarily consequent to the name of Man；as being but severall names of the same thing，Man；which Consequence is signified by coupling them together with the word Is．And as wee use the Verbe Is；so the Latines use their Verbe Est，and the Greeks their through all its Declinations．Whether all other Nations of the world have in their severall languages a word that answereth to it，or not，I cannot tell；but I am sure they have not need of it：For the placing of two names in order may serve to signifie their Consequence，if it were the custome，（for Custome is it，that give words their force，） as well as the words Is，or Bee，or Are，and the like．

And if it were so，that there were a Language without any Verb answerable to Est，or Is，or Bee；yet the men that used it would bee not a jot the lesse capable of Inferring，Concluding，and of all kind of Reasoning，than were the Greeks，and Latines．But what then would become of these Terms，of Entity，Essence，Essentiall，Essentiality，that are derived from it，and of many more that depend on these，applyed as most commonly they are？They are therefore no Names of Tings；but Signes，by which wee make known，that wee conceive the Consequence of one name or Attribute to another：as when we say，a Man，is，a living Body，wee mean not that the Man is one thing，the Living Body another，and the Is，or Beeing a third：but that the Man，and the Living Body，is the same thing：because the Consequence，If hee bee a Man，bee is a living Body，is a true Consequence，signified by that word Is．Terefore，to bee a Body，to Walke，to bee Speaking，to Live，to See，and the like Infinitives；also Corporeity，Walking，Speaking，Life，Sight，and the like，that signifie just the same，are the names of Nothing；as I have elsewhere more amply expressed．

But to what purpose （may some man say） is such subtilty in a work of this nature，where I pretend to nothing but what is necessary to the doctrine of Government and Obedience？It is to this purpose，that men may no longer suffer themselves to be abused，by them，that by this doctrine of Separated Essences，built on the Vain Philosophy of Aristotle，would fright them from Obeying the Laws of their Countrey，with empty names；as men fright Birds from the Corn with an empty doublet，a hat，and a crooked stick．For it is upon this ground，that when a Man is dead and buried，they say his Soule （that is his Life） can walk separated from his Body，and is seen by night amongst the graves．Upon the same ground they say，that the Figure，and Colour，and Tast of a peece of Bread，has a being，there，where they say there is no Bread：And upon the same ground they say，that Faith，and Wisdome，and other Vertues are sometimes powred into a man，sometimes blown into him from Heaven；as if the Vertuous，and their Vertues could be asunder；and a great many other things that serve to lessen the dependence of Subjects on the Soveraign Power of their Countrey．For who will endeavour to obey the Laws，if he expect Obedience to be Powred or Blown into him？Or who will not obey a Priest，that can make God，rather than his Soveraign；nay than God himselfe？Or who，that is in fear of Ghosts，will not bear great respect to those that can make the Holy Water，that drives them from him？And this shall suffice for an example of the Errors，which are brought into the Church，from the Entities，and Essences of Aristotle：which it may be he knew to be false Philosophy；but writ it as a thing consonant to，and corroborative of their Religion；and fearing the fate of Socrates．

Being once fallen into this Error of Separated Essences，they are thereby necessarily involved in many other absurdities that follow it．For seeing they will have these Forms to be reall，they are obliged to assign them some place．But because they hold them Incorporeall，without all dimension of Quantity，and all men know that Place is Dimension，and not to be filled，but by that which is Corporeall；they are driven to uphold their credit with a distinction，that they are not indeed any where Circumscriptivè，but Definitive：Which Terms being meer Words，and in this occasion insignificant，passe onely in Latine，that the vanity of them may bee concealed．For the Circumscription of a thing，is nothing else but the Determination，or Defining of its Place；and so both the Terms of the Distinction are the same．And in particular，of the Essence of a Man，which （they say） is his Soule，they affirm it，to be All of it in his little Finger，and All of it in every other Part （how small soever） of his Body；and yet no more Soule in the Whole Body，than in any one of those Parts．Can any man think that God is served with such absurdities？And yet all this is necessary to beleeve，to those that will beleeve the Existence of an Incorporeall Soule，Separated from the Body．

And when they come to give account，how an Incorporeall Substance can be capable of Pain，and be tormented in the fire of Hell，or Purgatory，they have nothing at all to answer，but that it cannot be known how fre can burn Soules．

Again，whereas Motion is change of Place，and Incorporeall Substances are not capable of Place，they are troubled to make it seem possible，how a Soule can goe hence，without the Body to Heaven，Hell，or Purgatory；and how the Ghosts of men （and I may adde of their clothes which they appear in） can walk by night in Churches，Churchyards，and other places of Sepulture．To which I know not what they can answer，unlesse they will say，they walke definitivè，not circumscriptivè，or spiritually，not temporally：for such egregious distinctions are equally applicable to any difficulty whatsoever．

For the meaning of Eternity，they will not have it to be an Endlesse Succession of Time；for then they should not be able to render a reason how Gods Will，and Præordaining of things to come，should not be before his Præscience of the same，as the Efficient Cause before the Effect，or Agent before the Action；nor of many other their bold opinions concerning the Incomprehensible Nature of God．But they will teach us，that Eternity is the Standing still of the Present Time，a Nunc-stans（as the Schools call it；） which neither they，nor any else understand，no more than they would a Hic-stans for an Infinite greatnesse of Place．

And whereas men divide a Body in their thought，by numbring parts of it，and in numbring those parts，number also the parts of the Place it filled；it cannot be，but in making many parts，wee make also many places of those parts；whereby there cannot bee conceived in the mind of any man，more，or fewer parts，than there are places for：yet they will have us beleeve，that by the Almighty power of God，one body may be at one and the same time in many places；and many bodies at one and the same time in one place；as if it were an acknowledgment of the Divine Power，to say，that which is，is not；or that which has been，has not been．And these are but a small part of the Incongruities they are forced to，from their disputing Philosophically，in stead of admiring，and adoring of the Divine and Incomprehensible Nature；whose Attributes cannot signifie what he is，but ought to signifie our desire to honour him，with the best Appellations we can think on．But they that venture to reason of his Nature，from these Attributes of Honour，losing their understanding in the very first attempt，fall from one Inconvenience into another，without end，and without number；in the same manner，as when a man ignorant of the Ceremonies of Court，comming into the presence of a greater Person than he is used to speak to，and stumbling at his entrance，to save himselfe from falling，lets slip his Cloake；to recover his Cloake，lets fall his Hat；and with one disorder after another，discovers his astonishment and rusticity．

Then for Physiques，that is，the knowledge of the subordinate，and secundary causes of naturall events；they render none at all，but empty words．If you desire to know why some kind of bodies sink naturally downwards toward the Earth，and others goe naturally from it；The Schools will tell you out of Aristotle，that the bodies that sink downwards，are Heavy；and that this Heavinesse is it that causes them to descend：But if you ask what they mean by Heavinesse，they will define it to bee an endeavour to goe to the center of the Earth：so that the cause why things sink downward，is an Endeavour to be below：which is as much as to say，that bodies descend，or ascend，because they doe．Or they will tell you the center of the Earth is the place of Rest，and Conservation for Heavy things；and therefore they endeavour to be there：As if Stones，and Metalls had a desire，or could discern the place they would bee at，as Man does；or loved Rest，as Man does not；or that a peece of Glasse were lesse safe in the Window，than falling into the Street．

If we would know why the same Body seems greater （without adding to it） one time，than another；they say，when it seems lesse，it is Condensed；when greater，Rarefied．What is that Condensed，and Rarefied？Condensed，is when there is in the very same Matter，lesse Quantity than before；and Rarefed，when more．As if there could be Matter，that had not some determined Quantity；when Quantity is nothing else but the Determination of Matter；that is to say of Body，by which we say one Body is greater，or lesser than another，by thus，or thus much．Or as if a Body were made without any Quantity at all，and that afterwards more，or lesse were put into it，according as it is intended the Body should be more，or lesse Dense．

For the cause of the Soule of Man，they say，Creatur Infundendo，and Creando Infunditur：that is，It is Created by Powring it in，and Powred in by Creation．

For the Cause of Sense，an ubiquity of Species；that is，of the Shews or Apparitions of objects；which when they be Apparitions to the Eye，is Sight；when to the Eare，Hearing；to the Palate，Tast；to the Nostrill，Smelling；and to the rest of the Body，Feeling．

For cause of the Will，to doe any particular action，which is called Volitio，they assign the Faculty，that is to say，the Capacity in generall，that men have，to will sometimes one thing，sometimes another，which is called Voluntas；making the Power the cause of the Act：As if one should assign for cause of the good or evill Acts of men，their Ability to doe them．

And in many occasions they put for cause of Naturall events，their own Ignorance，but disguised in other words：As when they say，Fortune is the cause of things contingent；that is，of things whereof they know no cause：And as when they attribute many Effects to occult qualities；that is，qualities not known to them；and therefore also （as they thinke） to no Man else．And to Sympathy，Antipathy，Antiperistasis，Speeificall Qualities，and other like Termes，which signifie neither the Agent that produceth them，nor the Operation by which they are produced．

If such Metaphysiques，and Physiques as this，be not Vain Philosophy，there was never any；nor needed St．Paul to give us warning to avoid it．

And for their Morall，and Civill Philosophy，it hath the same，or greater absurdities．If a man doe an action of Injustice，that is to say，an action contrary to the Law，God they say is the prime cause of the Law，and also the prime cause of that，and all other Actions；but no cause at all of the Injustice；which is the Inconformity of the Action to the Law．This is Vain Philosophy．A man might as well say，that one man maketh both a streight line，and a crooked，and another maketh their Incongruity．And such is the Philosophy of all men that resolve of their Conclusions，before they know their Premises；pretending to comprehend，that which is Incomprehensible；and of Attributes of Honour to make Attributes of Nature；as this distinction was made to maintain the Doctrine of Free-Will，that is，of a Will of man，not subject to the Will of God．

Aristotle，and other Heathen Philosophers define Good，and Evill，by the Appetite of men；and well enough，as long as we consider them governed every one by his own Law：For in the condition of men that have no other Law but their own Appetites，there can be no generall Rule of Good，and Evill Actions．But in a Common-wealth this measure is false：Not the Appetite of Private men，but the Law，which is the Will and Appetite of the State is the measure．And yet is this Doctrine still practised；and men judge the Goodnesse，or Wickednesse of their own，and of other mens actions，and of the actions of the Common-wealth it selfe，by their own Passions；and no man calleth Good or Evill，but that which is so in his own eyes，without any regard at all to the Publique Laws；except onely Monks，and Friers，that are bound by Vow to that simple obedience to their Superiour，to which every Subject ought to think himself bound by the Law of Nature to the Civill Soveraign．And this private measure of Good，is a Doctrine，not onely Vain，but also Pernicious to the Publique State．

It is also Vain and false Philosophy，to say the work of Marriage is repugnant to Chastity，or Continence，and by consequence to make them Morall Vices；as they doe，that pretend Chastity，and Continence，for the ground of denying Marriage to the Clergy．For they confesse it is no more，but a Constitution of the Church，that requireth in those holy Orders that continually attend the Altar，and administration of the Eucharist，a continuall Abstinence from women，under the name of continuall Chastity，Continence，and Purity．Therefore they call the lawfull use of Wives，want of Chastity，and Continence；and so make Marriage a Sin，or at least a thing so impure，and unclean，as to render a man unft for the Altar．If the Law were made because the use of Wives is Incontinence，and contrary to Chastity，then all Marriage is vice：If because it is a thing too impure，and unclean for a man consecrated to God；much more should other naturall，necessary，and daily works which all men doe，render men unworthy to bee Priests，because they are more unclean．

But the secret foundation of this prohibition of Marriage of Priests，is not likely to have been laid so slightly，as upon such errours in Morall Philosophy；nor yet upon the preference of single life，to the estate of Matrimony；which proceeded from the wisdome of St．Paul，who perceived how inconvenient a thing it was，for those that in those times of persecution were Preachers of the Gospel，and forced to fly from one countrey to another，to be clogged with the care of wife and children；but upon the designe of the Popes，and Priests of after times，to make themselves the Clergy，that is to say，sole Heirs of the Kingdome of God in this world；to which it was necessary to take from them the use of Marriage，because our Saviour saith，that at the coming of his Kingdome the Children of God shall neither Marry，nor bee given in Marriage，but shall bee as the Angels in heaven；that is to say，Spirituall．Seeing then they had taken on them the name of Spirituall，to have allowed themselves （when there was no need） the propriety of Wives，had been an Incongruity．

From Aristotles Civill Philosophy，they have learned，to call all manner of Common-wealths but the Popular，（such as was at that time the state of Athens，）Tyranny．All Kings they called Tyrants；and the Aristocracy of the thirty Governours set up there by the Lacedemonians that subdued them，the thirty Tyrants：As also to call the condition of the people under the Democracy，Liberty．A Tyrant originally signified no more simply，but a Monarch：But when afterwards in most parts of Greece that kind of government was abolished，the name began to signifie，not onely the thing it did before，but with it，the hatred which the Popular States bare towards it：As also the name of King became odious afer the deposing of the Kings in Rome，as being a thing naturall to all men，to conceive some great Fault to be signified in any Attribute，that is given in despight，and to a great Enemy．And when the same men shall be displeased with those that have the administration of the Democracy，or Aristocracy，they are not to seek for disgracefull names to expresse their anger in；but call readily the one Anarchy，and the other，Oligarchy，or the Tyranny of a Few．And that which offendeth the People，is no other thing，but that they are governed，not as every one of them would himselfe，but as the Publique Representant，be it one Man，or an Assembly of men thinks ft；that is，by an Arbitrary government：for which they give evill names to their Superiors；never knowing （till perhaps a little afer a Civill warre） that without such Arbitrary government，such Warre must be perpetuall；and that it is Men，and Arms，not Words，and Promises，that make the Force and Power of the Laws．

And therefore this is another Errour of Aristotles Politiques，that in a wel ordered Common-wealth，not Men should govern，but the Laws．What man，that has his naturall Senses，though he can neither write nor read，does not find himself governed by them he fears，and beleeves can kill or hurt him when he obeyeth not？or that beleeves the Law can hurt him；that is，Words，and Paper，without the Hands，and Swords of men？And this is of the number of pernicious Errors：for they induce men，as oft as they like not their Govemours，to adh re to those that call them Tyrants，and to think it lawfull to raise warre against them：And yet they are many times cherished from the Pulpit，by the Clergy．

There is another Errour in their Civill Philosophy （which they never learned of Aristotle，nor Cicero，nor any other of the Heathen，） to extend the power of the Law，which is the Rule of Actions onely，to the very Thoughts，and Consciences of men，by Examination，and Inquisition of what they Hold，notwithstanding the Conformity of their Speech and Actions：By which，men are either punished for answering the truth of their thoughts，or constrained to answer an untruth for fear of punishment．It is true，that the Civill Magistrate，intending to employ a Minister in the charge of Teaching，may enquire of him，if hee bee content to Preach such，and such Doctrines；and in case of refusall，may deny him the employment：But to force him to accuse himselfe of Opinions，when his Actions are not by Law forbidden，is against the Law of Nature；and especially in them，who teach，that a man shall bee damned to Eternall and extream torments，if he die in a false opinion concerning an Article of the Christian Faith．For who is there，that knowing there is so great danger in an error，whom the naturall care of himself，compelleth not to hazard his Soule upon his own judgement，rather than that of any other man that is unconcerned in his damnation？

For a Private man，without the Authority of the Common-wealth，that is to say，without permission from the Representant thereof，to Interpret the Law by his own Spirit，is another Error in the Politiques；but not drawn from Aristotle，nor from any other of the Heathen Philosophers．For none of them deny，but that in the Power of making Laws，is comprehended also the Power of Explaining them when there is need．And are not the Scriptures，in all places where they are Law，made Law by the Authority of the Common-wealth，and consequently，a part of the Civill Law？

Of the same kind it is also，when any but the Soveraign restraineth in any man that power which the Common-wealth hath not restrained；as they do，that impropriate the Preaching of the Gospell to one certain Order of men，where the Laws have lef it free．If the State give me leave to preach，or teach；that is，if it forbid me not，no man can forbid me．If I find my selfe amongst the Idolaters of America，shall I that am a Christian，though not in Orders，think it a sin to preach Jesus Christ，till I have received Orders from Rome？or when I have preached，shall not I answer their doubts，and expound the Scriptures to them；that is，shall I not Teach？But for this may some say，as also for administring to them the Sacraments，the necessity shall be esteemed for a sufficient Mission；which is true：But this is true also，that for whatsoever，a dispensation is due for the necessity，for the same there needs no dispensation，when there is no Law that forbids it．Terefore to deny these Functions to those，to whom the Civill Soveraigne hath not denyed them，is a taking away of a lawfull Liberty，which is contrary to the Doctrine of Civill Government．

More examples of Vain Philosophy，brought into Religion by the Doctors of Schoole-Divinity，might be produced；but other men may if they please observe them of themselves．I shall onely adde this，that the Writings of Schoole-Divines，are nothing else for the most part，but insignificant Traines of strange and barbarous words，or words otherwise used，then in the common use of the Latine tongue；such as would pose Cicero，and Varro，and all the Grammarians of ancient Rome．Which if any man would see proved，let him （as I have said once before） see whether he can translate any Schoole-Divine into any of the Modern tongues，as French，English，or any other copious language：for that which cannot in most of these be made Intelligible，is not Intelligible in the Latine．Which Insignificancy of language，though I cannot note it for false Philosophy；yet it hath a quality，not onely to hide the Truth，but also to make men think they have it，and desist from further search．

Lastly，for the Errors brought in from false，or uncertain History，what is all the Legend of fictitious Miracles，in the lives of the Saints；and all the Histories of Apparitions，and Ghosts，alledged by the Doctors of the Romane Church，to make good their Doctrines of Hell，and Purgatory，the power of Exorcisme，and other Doctrines which have no warrant，neither in Reason，nor Scripture；as also all those Traditions which they call the unwritten Word of God；but old Wives Fables？Whereof，though they find dispersed somewhat in the Writings of the ancient Fathers；yet those Fathers were men，that might too easily beleeve false reports；and the producing of their opinions for testimony of the truth of what they beleeved，hath no other force with them that （according to the Counsell of St．John 1 Epist．chap．4．verse 1.） examine Spirits，than in all things that concern the power of the Romane Church，（the abuse whereof either they suspected not，or had benefit by it，） to discredit their testimony，in respect of too rash beleef of reports；which the most sincere men，without great knowledge of naturall causes，（such as the Fathers were） are commonly the most subject to：For naturally，the best men are the least suspicious of fraudulent purposes．Gregory the Pope，and S．Bernard have somewhat of Apparitions of Ghosts，that said they were in Purgatory；and so has our Beda：but no where，I beleeve，but by report from others．But if they，or any other，relate any such stories of their own knowledge，they shall not thereby confirm the more such vain reports；but discover their own Infirmity，or Fraud．

With the Introduction of False，we may joyn also the suppression of True Philosophy，by such men，as neither by lawfull authority，nor sufficient study，are competent Judges of the truth．Our own Navigations make manifest，and all men learned in humane Sciences，now acknowledge there are Antipodes：And every day it appeareth more and more，that Years，and Dayes are determined by Motions of the Earth．Neverthelesse，men that have in their Writings but supposed such Doctrine，as an occasion to lay open the reasons for，and against it，have been punished for it by Authority Ecclesiasticall．But what reason is there for it？Is it because such opinions are contrary to true Religion？that cannot be，if they be true．Let therefore the truth be first examined by competent Judges，or confuted by them that pretend to know the contrary．Is it because they be contrary to the Religion established？Let them be silenced by the Laws of those，to whom the Teachers of them are subject；that is，by the Laws Civill：For disobedience may lawfully be punished in them，that against the Laws teach even true Philosophy．Is it because they tend to disorder in Government，as countenancing Rebellion，or Sedition？then let them be silenced，and the Teachers punished by vertue of his Power to whom the care of the Publique quiet is committed；which is the Authority Civill．For whatsoever Power Ecclesiastiques take upon themselves （in any place where they are subject to the State） in their own Right，though they call it Gods Right，is but Usurpation．

Of the Benefit that proceedeth from such Darknesse，and to whom it accreweth

Cicero maketh honorable mention of one of the Cassii，a severe Judge amongst the Romans，for a custome he had，in Criminall causes，（when the testimony of the witnesses was not sufficient，） to ask the Accusers，Cui bono；that is to say，what Profit，Honor，or other Contentment，the accused obtained，or expected by the Fact．For amongst Præsumptions，there is none that so evidently declareth the Author，as doth the Benefit of the Action．By the same rule I intend in this place to examine，who they may be，that have possessed the People so long in this part of Christendome，with these Doctrines，contrary to the Peaceable Societies of Mankind．

And first，to this Error，that the present Church now Militant on Earth，is the Kingdome of God，（that is，the Kingdome of Glory，or the Land of Promise；not the Kingdome of Grace，which is but a Promise of the Land，） are annexed these worldly Benefits，First，that the Pastors，and Teachers of the Church，are entitled thereby，as Gods Publique Ministers，to a Right of Governing the Church；and consequently （because the Church，and Common-wealth are the same Persons） to be Rectors，and Governours of the Common-wealth．By this title it is，that the Pope prevailed with the subjects of all Christian Princes，to beleeve，that to disobey him，was to disobey Christ himselfe；and in all differences between him and other Princes，（charmed with the word Power Spirituall，） to abandon their lawfull Soveraigns；which is in effect an universall Monarchy over all Christendome．For though they were first invested in the right of being Supreme Teachers of Christian Doctrine，by，and under Christian Emperors，within the limits of the Romane Empire （as is acknowledged by themselves） by the title of Pontifex Maximus，who was an Officer subject to the Civill State；yet after the Empire was divided，and dissolved，it was not hard to obtrude upon the people already subject to them，another Title，namely，the Right of St．Peter；not onely to save entire their pretended Power；but also to extend the same over the same Christian Provinces，though no more united in the Empire of Rome．This Beneft of an Universall Monarchy，（considering the desire of men to bear Rule） is a sufficient Presumption，that the Popes that pretended to it，and for a long time enjoyed it，were the Authors of the Doctrine，by which it was obtained；namely，that the Church now on Earth，is the Kingdome of Christ．For that granted，it must be understood，that Christ hath some Lieutenant amongst us，by whom we are to be told what are his Commandements．

After that certain Churches had renounced this universall Power of the Pope，one would expect in reason，that the Civill Soveraigns in all those Churches，should have recovered so much of it，as （before they had unadvisedly let it goe） was their own Right，and in their own hands．And in England it was so in efect；saving that they，by whom the Kings administred the Government of Religion，by maintaining their imployment to be in Gods Right，seemed to usurp，if not a Supremacy，yet an Independency on the Civill Power：and they but seemed to usurpe it，in as much as they acknowledged a Right in the King，to deprive them of the Exercise of their Functions at his pleasure．

But in those places where the Presbytery took that Ofce，though many other Doctrines of the Church of Rome were forbidden to be taught；yet this Doctrine，that the Kingdome of Christ is already come，and that it began at the Resurrection of our Saviour，was still retained．But cui bono？What Profit did they expect from it？The same which the Popes expected：to have a Soveraign Power over the People．For what is it for men to excommunicate their lawful King，but to keep him from all places of Gods publique Service in his own Kingdom？and with force to resist him，when he with force endeavoureth to correct them？Or what is it，without Authority from the Civill Soveraign，to excommunicate any person，but to take from him his Lawfull Liberty，that is，to usurpe an unlawfull Power over their Brethren？The Authors therefore of this Darknesse in Religion，are the Romane，and the Presbyterian Clergy．

To this head，I referre also all those Doctrines，that serve them to keep the possession of this spirituall Soveraignty after it is gotten．As first，that the Pope in his publique capacity cannot erre．For who is there，that beleeving this to be true，will not readily obey him in whatsoever he commands？

Secondly，that all other Bishops，in what Common-wealth soever，have not their Right，neither immediately from God，nor mediately from their Civill Soveraigns，but from the Pope，is a Doctrine，by which there comes to be in every Christian Common-wealth many potent men，（for so are Bishops，） that have their dependance on the Pope，and owe obedience to him，though he be a forraign Prince；by which means he is able，（as he hath done many times） to raise a Civill War against the State that submits not it self to be governed according to his pleasure and Interest．

Thirdly，the exemption of these，and of all other Priests，and of all Monkes，and Fryers，from the Power of the Civill Laws．For by this means，there is a great part of every Common-wealth，that enjoy the benefit of the Laws，and are protected by the Power of the Civill State，which neverthelesse pay no part of the Publique expence；nor are lyable to the penalties，as other Subjects，due to their crimes；and consequently，stand not in fear of any man，but the Pope；and adhere to him onely，to uphold his universall Monarchy．

Fourthly，the giving to their Priests （which is no more in the New Testament but Presbyters，that is，Elders） the name of Sacerdotes，that is，Sacrificers，which was the title of the Civill Soveraign，and his publique Ministers，amongst the Jews，whilest God was their King．Also，the making the Lords Supper a Sacrifice，serveth to make the People beleeve the Pope hath the same power over all Christians，that Moses and Aaron had over the Jews；that is to say，all Power，both Civill and Ecclesiasticall，as the High Priest then had．

Fiftly，the teaching that Matrimony is a Sacrament，giveth to the Clergy the Judging of the lawfulnesse of Marriages；and thereby，of what Children are Legitimate；and consequently，of the Right of Succession to h reditary Kingdomes．

Sixtly，the Deniall of Marriage to Priests，serveth to assure this Power of the Pope over Kings．For if a King be a Priest，he cannot Marry，and transmit his Kingdome to his Posterity；If he be not a Priest then the Pope pretendeth this Authority Ecclesiasticall over him，and over his people．

Seventhly，from Auricular Confession，they obtain，for the assurance of their Power，better intelligence of the designs of Princes，and great persons in the Civill State，than these can have of the designs of the State Ecclesiasticall．

Eighthly，by the Canonization of Saints，and declaring who are Martyrs，they assure their Power，in that they induce simple men into an obstinacy against the Laws and Commands of their Civill Soveraigns even to death，if by the Popes excommunication，they be declared Heretiques or Enemies to the Church；that is，（as they interpret it，） to the Pope．

Ninthly，they assure the same，by the Power they ascribe to every Priest，of making Christ；and by the Power of ordaining Pennance；and of Remitting，and Retaining of sins．

Thenthly，by the Doctrine of Purgatory，of Justification by externall works，and of Indulgences，the Clergy is enriched．

Eleventhly，by their D monology，and the use of Exorcisme，and other things appertaining thereto，they keep （or thinke they keep） the People more in awe of their Power．

Lastly，the Metaphysiques，Ethiques，and Politiques of Aristotle，the frivolous Distinctions，barbarous Terms，and obscure Language of the Schoolmen，taught in the Universities，（which have been all erected and regulated by the Popes Authority，） serve them to keep these Errors from being detected，and to make men mistake the Ignis fatuus of Vain Philosophy，for the Light of the Gospell．

To these，if they sufficed not，might be added other of their dark Doctrines，the proft whereof redoundeth manifestly，to the setting up of an unlawfull Power over the lawfull Soveraigns of Christian People；or for the sustaining of the same，when it is set up；or to the worldly Riches，Honour，and Authority of those that sustain it．And therefore by the aforesaid rule，of Cui bono，we may justly pronounce for the Authors of all this Spirituall Darknesse，the Pope，and Roman Clergy，and all those besides that endeavour to settle in the mindes of men this erroneous Doctrine，that the Church now on Earth，is that Kingdome of God mentioned in the Old and New Testament．

But the Emperours，and other Christian Soveraigns，under whose Government these Errours，and the like encroachments of Ecclesiastiques upon their Office，at first crept in，to the disturbance of their possessions，and of the tranquillity of their Subjects，though they suffered the same for want of foresight of the Sequel，and of insight into the designs of their Teachers，may neverthelesse bee esteemed accessaries to their own，and the Publique dammage：For without their Authority there could at first no seditious Doctrine have been publiquely preached．I say they might have hindred the same in the beginning：But when the people were once possessed by those spirituall men，there was no humane remedy to be applyed，that any man could invent：And for the remedies that God should provide，who never faileth in his good time to destroy all the Machinations of men against the Truth，wee are to attend his good pleasure，that sufereth many times the prosperity of his enemies，together with their ambition，to grow to such a height，as the violence thereof openeth the eyes，which the warinesse of their predecessours had before sealed up，and makes men by too much grasping let goe all，as Peters net was broken，by the struggling of too great a multitude of Fishes；whereas the Impatience of those，that strive to resist such encroachment，before their Subjects eyes were opened，did but encrease the power they resisted．I doe not therefore blame the Emperour Frederick for holding the stirrop to our countryman Pope Adrian；for such was the disposition of his subjects then，as if hee had not done it，hee was not likely to have succeeded in the Empire：But I blame those，that in the beginning，when their power was entire，by suffering such Doctrines to be forged in the Universities of their own Dominions，have holden the Stirrop to all the succeeding Popes，whilest they mounted into the Thrones of all Christian Soveraigns，to ride，and tire，both them，and their people，at their pleasure．

But as the Inventions of men are woven，so also are they ravelled out；the way is the same，but the order is inverted：Te web begins at the first Elements of Power，which are Wisdom，Humility，Sincerity，and other vertues of the Apostles，whom the people converted，obeyed，out of Reverence，not by Obligation：Their Consciences were free，and their Words and Actions subject to none but the Civill Power．Afterwards the Presbyters （as the Flocks of Christ encreased） assembling to consider what they should teach，and thereby obliging themselves to teach nothing against the Decrees of their Assemblies，made it to be thought the people were thereby obliged to follow their Doctrine，and when they refused，refused to keep them company，（that was then called Excommunication，） not as being Infdels，but as being disobedient：And this was the first knot upon their Liberty．And the number of Presbyters encreasing，the presbyters of the chief City or Province，got themselves an authority over the Parochiall Presbyters，and appropriated to themselves the names of Bishops：And this was a second knot on Christian Liberty．Lastly，the Bishop of Rome，in regard of the Imperiall City，took upon him an Authority （partly by the wills of the Emperours themselves，and by the title of Pontifex Maximus，and at last when the Emperours were grown weak，by the priviledges of St．Peter） over all other Bishops of the Empire：Which was the third and last knot，and the whole Synthesis and Construction of the Pontifcall Power．

And therefore the Analysis，or Resolution is by the same way；but beginning with the knot that was last tyed；as wee may see in the dissolution of the pr terpoliticall Church Government in England．First，the Power of the Popes was dissolved totally by Queen Elizabeth；and the Bishops，who before exercised their Functions in Right of the Pope，did afterwards exercise the same in Right of the Queen and her Successours；though by retaining the phrase of Jure Divino，they were thought to demand it by immediate Right from God：And so was untyed the first knot．After this，the Presbyterians lately in England obtained the putting down of Episcopacy：And so was the second knot dissolved：And almost at the same time，the Power was taken also from the Presbyterians：And so we are reduced to the Independency of the Primitive Christians to follow Paul，or Cephas，or Apollos，every man as he liketh best：Which，if it be without contention，and without measuring the Doctrine of Christ，by our affection to the Person of his Minister，（the fault which the Apostle reprehended in the Corinthians，） is perhaps the best：First，because there ought to be no Power over the Consciences of men，but of the Word it selfe，working Faith in every one，not alwayes according to the purpose of them that Plant and Water，but of God himself，that giveth the Increase：and secondly，because it is unreasonable in them，who teach there is such danger in every little Errour，to require of a man endued with Reason of his own，to follow the Reason of any other man，or of the most voices of many other men；Which is little better，then to venture his Salvation at crosse and pile．Nor ought those Teachers to be displeased with this losse of their antient Authority：For there is none should know better then they，that power is preserved by the same Vertues by which it is acquired；that is to say，by Wisdome，Humility，Clearnesse of Doctrine，and sincerity of Conversation；and not by suppression of the Naturall Sciences，and of the Morality of Naturall Reason；nor by obscure Language；nor by Arrogating to themselves more Knowledge than they make appear；nor by Pious Frauds；nor by such other faults，as in the Pastors of Gods Church are not only Faults，but also scandalls，apt to make men stumble one time or other upon the suppression of their Authority．

But afer this Doctrine，that the Church now Militant，is the Kingdome of God spoken of in the Old and New Testament，was received in the World；the ambition，and canvasing for the Offices that belong thereunto，and especially for that great Office of being Christs Lieutenant，and the Pompe of them that obtained therein the principall Publique Charges，became by degrees so evident，that they lost the inward Reverence due to the Pastorall Function：in so much as the Wisest men，of them that had any power in the Civill State，needed nothing but the authority of their Princes，to deny them any further Obedience．For，from the time that the Bishop of Rome had gotten to be acknowledged for Bishop Universall，by pretence of Succession to St．Peter，their whole Hierarchy，or Kingdome of Darknesse，may be compared not unfitly to the Kingdome of Fairies；that is，to the old wives Fables in England，concerning Ghosts and Spirits，and the feats they play in the night．And if a man consider the originall of this great Ecclesiasticall Dominion，he will easily perceive，that the Papacy，is no other，than the Ghost of the deceased Romane Empire，sitting crowned upon the grave thereof：For so did the Papacy start up on a Sudden out of the Ruines of that Heathen Power．

The Language also，which they use，both in the Churches，and in their Publique Acts，being Latine，which is not commonly used by any Nation now in the world，what is it but the Ghost of the Old Romane Language？

Te Fairies in what Nation soever they converse，have but one Universall King，which some Poets of ours call King Oberon；but the Scripture calls Beelzebub，Prince of ．The Ecclesiastiques likewise，in whose Dominions soever they be found，acknowledge but one Universall King，the Pope．

The Ecclesiastiques are Spirituall men，and Ghostly Fathers．Te Fairies are Spirits，and Ghosts．Fairies and Ghosts inhabite Darknesse，Solitudes，and Graves．The Ecclesiastiques walke in Obscurity of Doctrine，in Monasteries，Churches，and Churchyards．

The Ecclesiastiques have their Cathedral Churches；which，in what Towne soever they be erected，by vertue of Holy Water，and certain Charmes called Exorcismes，have the power to make those Townes，Cities，that is to say，Seats of Empire．The Fairies also have their enchanted Castles，and certain Gigantique Ghosts，that domineer over the Regions round about them．

The Fairies are not to be seized on；and brought to answer for the hurt they do．So also the Ecclesiastiques vanish away from the Tribunals of Civill Justice．

The Ecclesiastiques take from young men，the use of Reason，by certain Charms compounded of Metaphysiques，and Miracles，and Traditions，and Abused Scripture，whereby they are good for nothing else，but to execute what they command them．The Fairies likewise are said to take young Children out of their Cradles，and to change them into Naturall Fools，which Common people do therefore call Elves，and are apt to mischief．

In what Shop，or Operatory the Fairies make their Enchantment，the old Wives have not determined．But the Operatories of the Clergy，are well enough known to be the Universities，that received their Discipline from Authority Pontificiall．

When the Fairies are displeased with any body，they are said to send their Elves，to pinch them．The Ecclesiastiques，when they are displeased with any Civill State，make also their Elves，that is，Superstitious，Enchanted Subjects，to pinch their Princes，by preaching Sedition；or one Prince enchanted with promises，to pinch another．

The Fairies marry not；but there be amongst them Incubi，that have copulation with flesh and bloud．The Priests also marry not．

The Ecclesiastiques take the Cream of the Land，by Donations of ignorant men，that stand in aw of them，and by Tythes：So also it is in the Fable of Fairies，that they enter into the Dairies，and Feast upon the Cream，which they skim from the Milk．

What kind of Money is currant in the Kingdome of Fairies，is not recorded in the Story．But the Ecclesiastiques in their Receipts accept of the same Money that we doe；though when they are to make any Payment，it is in Canonizations，Indulgences，and Masses．

To this，and such like resemblances between the Papacy，and the Kingdome of Fairies，may be added this，that as the Fairies have no existence，but in the Fancies of ignorant people，rising from the Traditions of old Wives，or old Poets：so the Spirituall Power of the Pope （without the bounds of his own Civill Dominion） consisteth onely in the Fear that Seduced people stand in，of their Excommunication；upon hearing of false Miracles，false Traditions，and false Interpretations of the Scripture．

It was not therefore a very difficult matter，for Henry 8．by his Exorcisme；nor for Qu．Elizabeth by hers，to cast them out．But who knows that this Spirit of Rome，now gone out，and walking by Missions through the dry places of China，Japan，and the Indies，that yeeld him little fruit，may not return，or rather an Assembly of Spirits worse than he，enter，and inhabite this clean swept house，and make the End thereof worse than the Beginning？For it is not the Romane Clergy onely，that pretends the Kingdome of God to be of this World，and thereby to have a Power therein，distinct from that of the Civill State．And this is all I had a designe to say，concerning the Doctrine of the POLITIQUES．Which when I have reviewed，I shall willingly expose it to the censure of my Countrey．

分册总目录

观念

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

目录

Contents

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企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

伟大的思想(第四辑)慰妻书

（英汉双语）

［古希腊］普鲁塔克　著

［英］罗宾·沃特菲尔德　英译

肖艾林　文　宏　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

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慰妻书：英汉双语／（古希腊）普鲁塔克著；肖艾林，文宏译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2012. 9

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3335-3

Ⅰ．①慰…　Ⅱ．①普…②肖…③文…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物②散文集—古希腊　Ⅳ．①H319.4:I

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字(2012)第104375号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2012-7266号）

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Essays first published in this translation in Penguin Classics 1992

This selection first published 2008

Translation copyright © Robin Waterfield, 1992

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观念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯 ·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin’s Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. T e sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously inf uential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

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慰妻书

认识德行的进步

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普鲁塔克（Plutarch，约46—120）是罗马帝国时代的希腊作家，出身于希腊中部波奥提亚地区喀罗尼亚城（Chaeronea）一个有文化教养的家庭，其父亚里斯托布鲁斯（Aristobulus）是一位传记作家和哲学家。普鲁塔克幼承庭训，养成了对知识的爱好。青年时期游学雅典，曾受业于名师阿谟尼乌斯（Ammonius），受过数学、哲学、修辞学、历史学以及医学等方面的训练。普鲁塔克还曾遍游希腊各地，到过爱琴海诸岛，访问过埃及、小亚细亚、意大利。所到之处，他都极为留心搜集当地的历史资料和口碑传说，从而成为一名饱学之士。后来，他来到罗马讲学，研究罗马的历史，同时结识了许多名人。普鲁塔克一生经历了罗马帝国前期的三个王朝——尤利乌斯·克劳狄王朝、弗拉维王朝和安敦尼王朝。据说，他曾经为帝国的两个皇帝——图拉真和哈德良讲过课，并博得了他们的赏识，图拉真曾授予他执政官的高位，后来哈德良又提拔他担任希腊财政督察。普鲁塔克的作品在文艺复兴时期大受欢迎，蒙田对他推崇备至，莎士比亚不少剧作都取材于他的记载。

“普鲁塔克”这个名字在西方已经远远超出学院的门墙，它几乎成为一个文化符号，一种时代精神的代表，一种政治文化的象征。《慰妻书》是普鲁塔克在四岁女儿夭折后，写给他的妻子提摩泽娜的安慰信。文如其人，这段感人的文字让我们感受到其孝涕友爱的立身之道，非常真实地展示了其温良而敦厚、和善而豁达、恬静而不慕虚荣的性格。在书中，普鲁塔克用了很多看似平常的道理安慰妻子，让我们感同身受般地体会其在悲痛中的坚守与克制，同时也为我们描述了关于道德与情感、嫉妒与憎恨、悲伤与欢乐的深意看法。他对人生、社会乃至宇宙的认知，都那么充满智慧，让人有醍醐灌顶的感觉，读时一边会意微笑，一边不禁沉思，这么朴素的道理应该是生活中最基本的东西，却被我们在不经意间遗失了。在一个物质极度膨胀的现代世界里，留给我们思考的空间太小，最本真的人性也似乎只能在物质的缝隙间苟且偷生！

书中，普鲁塔克与提摩泽娜夫妻相爱甚笃、和睦美满的家庭生活跃然纸上，我们可以读出两人携手共度难关、相互扶持、风雨同行的恩爱。文字的描述成为触碰你我灵魂的精华，在如今这个浮躁的商业社会里，读一点普鲁塔克的文章，培养一点人文精神吧！不需大段时间，抽空浅斟慢饮，细细品啜，犹如炎热夏日，饮一杯碧绿的龙井，真的让人感觉舒爽。

慰妻书

希望你收到此信时，一切安好。你派来向我通报孩子不幸夭折的人，可能在他去雅典的路上与我错过了。但我到达塔纳格拉时，从孙女那儿听闻了这一噩耗。我想，现在葬礼已经结束了吧。希望这次葬礼过后，无论是现在还是将来，你不再有任何悲伤。如果因为你想听听我的意见，还有什么事情你想做却还没做，而你认为做完这件事就不会那么难过了，那就去做吧。切记不要大张旗鼓，也不要陷入那些迷信的无稽之谈。我想你应该不会犯这样的错误吧。

亲爱的，我唯一的要求就是，在悲伤的同时，我们两个人，我，还有你，都要懂得节哀。我的意思是，不幸已然发生，我们要悲伤有度。但是如果我发觉你过度悲伤，那将比失去女儿更令我不安。你知道，我并非铁石心肠。我们一起养育了这么多孩子，他们都是在自己家里长大的，没有要任何人帮忙。我了解，继四个儿子之后，你诞下渴望已久的女儿是多么地欣喜。因为她，我才有机会以你的名字给孩子命名。而且，父母对这个年纪的孩子尤其疼爱有加。因为这种爱带来的快乐很单纯，没有一丝一毫的愤怒和苛求。而且，女儿生性温顺而随和，懂得感情回报，她是那么地惹人喜爱，不仅带给我们快乐，也让我们看到了她的善良和无私。她总是让乳母把乳汁喂给其他的孩子，甚至是那些她最喜爱的玩具，她无私地要把她拥有的美好事物以及她最喜爱的东西与她最喜爱的人分享，待他们犹如上宾。

然而，亲爱的，她有生之年带给我们这些快乐的点点滴滴，如今回忆起来，我找不出任何理由为之难过和悲伤。反之，我担心的是，我们可能因为要躲避悲伤而遗忘对她的记忆。如此，便会变得像克里谟奈一样。她曾说：“我讨厌山茱萸木制的弯弓！我宁愿世上没有体育馆！”她总是害怕忆起儿子，并且避免这样做。 因为与回忆相伴的是痛楚， 人会本能地逃避。不，我们的女儿是这世上最可爱，最令人想拥抱、注视和聆听的孩子。正因为如此，我们一定要让她长驻心间，她带给我们的快乐，将远远超过悲伤。我们通常劝慰别人的那些话，在我们困难之际也能适时地帮助我们自己。我们不能沮丧消沉，自我封闭，用数倍的忧伤来抵消那些欢乐。

那些参加葬礼的人有些吃惊，他们说你连丧服都没有穿，你和侍女们并没有遵从陈规陋习。你衣着得体，葬礼也没有奢华的排场，一切从简，静默肃穆。对此我并不以为奇。你去看戏或参加公众游行时也从不打扮，你认为奢侈无益，铺张亦无乐趣可言。因此，你在伤痛之时坚持自然和简朴。

关键在于，体面的妇女不仅应该在酒神节的狂欢中保持纯洁不堕落，而且应该在悲痛中认识到，需要克制悲痛带来的情绪不稳和困扰。这种自我克制不是常人所想的那样对情和爱的压抑，而是对心的宽容。思念、崇敬和怀念已故之人是人之常情，但是无尽的悲痛让我们恸哭、哀号，这就和放纵的享乐主义一样可鄙，尽管情有可原：虽然可鄙，但随之而来的并非快乐，而是更多的悲伤和痛苦。摒弃过度的纵情欢笑，却允许源自同一理由的痛哭流涕，或者像某些丈夫们一样，因为妻子抹着奢侈的头发香水、穿着俗丽的衣服而与她们争吵，却在她们在哀悼时剪去头发、染黑衣服、坐姿难看或以不舒服的姿势斜靠在桌旁时表示服从，还有什么比这更荒谬的呢？最恼人的是，他们抗拒和阻止妻子过分而不公平地惩罚仆人，却忽视了当她们受到情感和不幸的影响时所遭受的恶毒、严厉的惩罚，实际上此时更需要的是轻松和宽容的心态。

亲爱的，我们之间已非常默契，从来没有为一点小事而争吵，而且我想我们永远也不会为此而争吵。一方面，与我们相处过、了解我们的每位哲学家无不对你朴素的穿着打扮和谦逊的生活方式印象深刻，我们每一个同胞都见证了你在宗教仪式、祭祀典礼和剧场观演时的自然淳朴。另一方面，之前在你失去长子、我们可爱的卡龙又过早地离开我们时，你的表现足以证明，你可以在这种情况下保持镇定。我记得，当孩子夭折的噩耗传来时，我带着来访者从海上回来，他们还有其他人聚集在我们家。他们后来告诉别人，看到我们家如此平静安宁，还以为并没有什么可怕的事情发生，不过是传出了毫无根据的谣言罢了。因为通常在这样的时刻，一片混乱也是情有可原的，而你仍然负责任地把家里安排得井然有序。你亲自给孩子哺乳，乳头发炎后还做了手术。这都是出于母爱的高尚之举。

值得注意的是，大多数母亲是等别人把孩子清洗干净、打扮漂亮之后再把他们抱在怀里。她们把孩子当做是玩物。如果孩子夭折，这些母亲们就会沉湎于空洞、虚伪的悲痛之中。这种悲痛并非出自合理而可敬的热烈情感：她们对肤浅的信仰有着强烈的倾向，再加上一点儿本能的情绪，于是乎悲痛猛然爆发，不但激烈、狂躁而且难以自抑。伊索显然意识到了这一点：他说，当宙斯在众神之间分配赞誉时，“悲伤之神”也请求得到一份；于是宙斯应允了他——但这份赞誉只能来自那些有心想要给予悲伤之神以荣誉的人。

起初，确实如此：悲伤入侵的只是一个个体；然而一段时间之后，它便成为了一个永久的姊妹，一种习惯性的存在，无论如何也挥之不去。这就是为何我们在一开始就要将它拒之门外的原因，不要为之挑选特别的着装、打理特别的发型或是做其他诸如此类的事情，以免它在我们心中驻扎生根，日复一日地折磨、贬低、束缚和封闭我们的心灵，使我们变得无动于衷或忧心忡忡，就好像为了表现悲痛而挑选的服装和做出的事情将我们与欢笑、光明以及聚餐等社交行为隔绝开来。这种痛苦的状态让人忽视身体，厌恶给身体涂油、洗澡和其他日常养生。情况本该相反，应保持健康的身体，这样才有助于缓解纯粹的精神痛苦。身体安定，心灵悲痛便会大大减轻、平息和消散，犹如天气晴朗时，波浪会平息。但是，如果生活规则紊乱，导致身体变得肮脏污秽，对心灵没有任何良性的影响或是益处，带来的只有切肤而难忍的悲伤和痛苦，即使渴望恢复的人也会发现难以达成。心灵受到如此虐待，便会深陷于种种障碍和不适之中。

不过，我没有理由担心会出现最严重的、最令人担忧的失常情形——“恶女入侵”，她们悲痛的哀号和表现使悲痛更加深刻和厚重，从而无法随着外部因素影响而减退或自然消散。我能体会你最近的痛苦挣扎，你去帮助席恩的姐妹，抵抗妇女们的恸哭哀号——这一行为无异于以火攻火。我的意思是，当人们看到朋友的房子着火时，他们会努力尽快扑灭火焰；但是当看到这个朋友的心灵燃起火焰时，人们却会火上加油！有人眼部受到感染时，不会同意任何人去触碰它，也不去治疗炎症，但伤心人却会坐下来，让每个过路人刺探自己的伤痛（可以这么说），从而使情况变得更糟。这就好比一个本来微不足道的发痒的痛处，爆发成为真正难耐的痛苦折磨。无论如何，我相信，你对此会有所防范的。

但是，你一定要时常试着把自己的思绪带回到女儿出生以前，那时的我们没有理由抱怨命运，然后将此时与彼时联系起来，想象我们现在的境况与原先没有不同。你瞧，亲爱的，如果我们发现和女儿出生前相比，现在要抱怨的事情更多，说不定会后悔生了女儿。我们不应将这两年的记忆抹去，因为它带给了我们幸福和快乐，我们应该把它视为快乐的缘由。美好的事物总是短暂的，但不应因而把它看作是长期的不良影响：我们不应该因为命运不再施与我们更多的希望，就对我们曾经拥有的毫不领情。

关键在于，对诸神要态度虔诚，对他人要宽厚仁慈，对命运要心平气和，只有这样才能始终收获美好而愉悦的报偿。任何人如果处于我们这种境地，都会特别注意突出对美好事物的记忆，不去思忖生活的黑暗面和尘世纷扰，而是多想想光明的未来和璀璨的生活，他们要么完全摒弃任何带来痛苦的事物，要么将悲痛与欢乐融为一体，这样至少可以减轻和掩饰痛苦。正如香水，闻起来清香怡人，但也可以用来消除难闻的气味；同样，将美好的事物铭记在心能使我们在苦难的时候得到必要的支持，对于那些不惧怕回忆美好时光、不怨天尤人的人，这就好比一剂良方。我们应当尽量避免这样一种情况——抱怨综合症，生活就像一本书，尽管其他页面干干净净，但有一个污迹，有人仍会对此百般挑剔。我想说的是，你常常听人说，幸福是为了达到一种稳定状态而正确使用理性思维的结果，偶然的变故可能使人偏离方向，但并不构成人生大逆转，也并不意味着人生大厦的坍塌和毁灭。

假如我们也要遵从惯例，被外在环境所左右，对命运的安排耿耿于怀，在意他人评判我们是否幸福：即便如此，你也不应该老想着当前那些吊唁者的哭泣和哀悼，这不过是毫无意义的社会风俗促使他们每每在这种情况下如此表现而已。最好是牢牢记住，你的孩子、家庭和生活方式在别人眼里依然是令人羡慕的。只要有人乐于选择你这样的命运，甚至包括我们目前的悲伤，你就不该因为遭受这样的命运而抱怨连连，反而应该从痛苦的根源出发，认识到我们应该为仍然拥有的一切而心怀感激。若非如此，你就会像那些从荷马的作品中摘取无头无尾的句子，却忽视许多精彩绝伦的篇章的人那样：对生活中的缺点吹毛求疵、抱怨不止，对优点却含糊其辞、一掠而过，这样一来，你的表现与那些贪婪吝啬的人并无二致，囤积了大量财富却不充分利用，一旦失去却又唉声叹气、抱怨连天。

如果你为女儿未曾结婚生子就已离开人世而感到惋惜，那么你还是可以找到其他的理由振作起来，因为你已然了解和经历过这两件事：我的意思是，对于未经历过结婚生子的人来说，结婚生子也就那么回事，而对已经历过结婚生子的人来说，那可是人生中意义重大的事情，所以幸福与否并不取决于是否经历过这些事。事实上，女儿已经步入一个没有痛苦的世界，我们不必为之悲伤。既然已经没有什么能够令她痛苦了，我们又为何要因她的离世而伤心呢？如果到了无人需要的地步，那么再大的损失也不会引起痛苦了；更何况你的提谟克塞娜承受的损失甚少，因为她所熟知和觉得有趣的东西并不是什么重要的事物，至于她所不知道的、从未进入她脑海或吸引她的东西——又怎能说她已经失去它们了呢？

再者，你还听到一种人们普遍接受的说法，即那些已经消散的东西，不可能会遭受灾难或承受痛苦。我知道，我们祖先的教导，以及我们所参加的酒神节仪式的神秘规则（我们大家都了解的东西）让你不敢相信这种说法。那么，既然灵魂是不朽的，你可以将它所发生的一切与笼中鸟的行为做个比较：灵魂长期居于肉体之中，由于诸多的重大事件和长期的熟悉，已经习惯了这样一种生活方式，于是每次重生后依然栖息在肉体里，一而再地经历人间的悲喜祸福。不要认为晚年是因为满脸皱纹、白发苍苍和体力不支而遭人责骂：不，它最残酷的特征是，人到晚年，灵魂不再能鲜明地记忆另一个世界，却又让它和这个世界保持联系，被这个世界包围和束缚，它保持着身体给予它的形状，同时受到它的约束。另一方面，那些在被捕获后只在肉体中停留片刻便被神释放的灵魂，好像又弹回其自然状态，虽然它已经被弯曲，但它依然保持其柔韧性和延展性。就像火一样，如果在熄灭之后立即点燃，它很快就重新燃起；但是熄灭的时间越长，被点燃的难度越大。因此，用诗人的话说，那些最幸运的灵魂，能够在产生对这个世界许多事物强烈的喜爱和受到如同化学品作用一般地软化、溶解并与身体合而为一之前，“轻快地通过阴间的大门”。

我们可以从远古祖先的风俗与规则中更好地看到这些事物的真相。人们不为夭折的婴儿举行祭酒仪式，也不为死者举行其他的仪式，因为这些婴儿尚未经历尘世和世俗之事。再者，人们不在他们的葬礼上或墓穴边流连，也不为修筑死者的安身之所而拖延时间，因为法律规定禁止对在那个年龄死亡的人这样做。为即将进入一个更加美好世界的人哀悼，会被认为是亵渎神灵。既然怀疑这一点比相信这一点更加困难，那就让我们的外在行为遵守禁令，并保持内心世界不被玷污，比外在行为更纯洁、更自制。

认识德行的进步

苏希乌斯·塞涅乔，如果一个人感到他的德行在不断进步，但事实上并未消除愚昧，因为不道德的行为限制了每个阶段的进步，并恰好抵消了这些进步，好比“铅锤使渔网下坠”一样，他的道德水平不断下降，那么，有没有一种说理方式能够让人意识到自己的德行在进步呢？就拿音乐或文化素养来说，一个人如果在学习过程中没有减少对这些领域的无知，就可能无法认识到自己在这方面的进步，他的无知水平将永远保持不变。如果医疗手段未能减轻一个患者的不适或在某种程度上缓解病情，使病情得到控制和减轻，直到身体完全复原，并且通过治疗使疾病的踪影完全消失不见，患者就无法感知到病情好转。

事实上，如果人们感知不到这些领域的变化，就不会取得进步，因为进步的工具是消除抵抗人们进步的阻力（好比站在一架天平上，被一股向上的力量提起，与之前下落的运动相抗衡）。同样，在哲学上，如果一个人不能从思想上免于犯错并得到净化，反而在获得绝对至善的时刻仍然陷入与绝对至恶的混沌，就不能假设取得了进步和意识到进步。当然，智者只需片刻，一瞬间，就能从极度罪恶达到尽善尽美的境界。尽管长期来看他的罪恶没有丝毫消除，但在这一瞬间他却完全脱离了恶习。

不过，我敢肯定你已经知晓，持这种观点的人会为自己的断言陷入极其尴尬的境地，也会给“浑然不觉的智者”带来许多麻烦。一个人实际上已经变得聪明了，但是，他自己却并不知道，在一个渐进而漫长的过程中，他丧失了某些品质，也获得了某些品质，在不知不觉中他不断进步，就像一条铺就的道路，平稳地把他引向具有美德的境地。但是变化的速度和规模非常之大，一个在早晨还一无是处的人到了晚上就能成为一个完美的圣徒；也可能发生这样的巨变，入睡前还是一个没用的傻瓜，醒来时却是一个圣明的智者，他的心灵中所有的谬误和缺点都被涤荡干净，他不禁惊呼：“再见吧，荒谬的梦境，你其实什么也不是！”如果这一切真是如此，谁又能意识不到这种巨大的变化，感觉不到智慧的光芒突然照耀着他呢？我宁愿相信像凯纽斯那样的人祈祷自己从女人变为男人，却未能注意到自己的转变，也不相信一个胆怯、愚蠢、懦弱的人变得坚强、睿智、勇敢，或者一种野蛮的生活变得神圣之后，他自己对这些顷刻间的变化却毫无认识。

有种正确的说法是：人应该“修整石头对齐直线，而不是修改直线去对齐石头。”但是，有些人不愿意根据事实去修正观点，而是强迫事实去符合自己的臆测，这是不符合自然规律的，因而产生了大量的哲学难题，其中最大的难题是：除了完美无缺的人以外，所有人都被划入不道德这一鱼龙混杂的类别。这个难题使得人们对“进步”一词讳莫如深：所谓的“进步”与极度愚蠢只差一步之遥，这种进步使得尚未摆脱各种情感和缺陷的人依然与尚未摆脱最大恶性的人一样可悲。总之，这些思想家是在自我否定。他们在演讲中将阿里斯泰德斯与法拉里斯的伤风败俗相提并论，把布拉西达斯与多伦的怯懦视同一致，甚至认为柏拉图与梅利多斯的愚昧无知也如出一辙；但他们在生活实践中，却禁戒这几组人中后者的行为，认为他们冷酷无情，追随并信任这几组人中的前者，认为他们对最重要事物方面的论述具有重要意义。

但是，我们要注意到每一种罪恶都在程度上有多少之别，尤其是那些不确定、不可估量的心灵上的罪恶。同样，消除罪恶也有不同程度的进步，当理性逐渐启迪、净化灵魂时，人的不足就会像黑暗被光明击退一样向后退却。因此，对那些正在被推出深渊的人而言，我们并不认为他们认识到这些变化的看法是不合逻辑的，相反，我们认为这种认识具有明确的、可以描述的道德概念观念。

在此，无需多费周折，请首先考虑第一个道德观念。正如那些扬帆远航的人通过流逝的时间和风力的强度来计算他们航行了多远，他们根据一定风力驱使下花费的一定时间来估量他们可能完成的行程。在哲学中亦如此。一个人能够通过推理过程中取得进步的连续性和延续性，加之新的努力和动力使停顿与波折很少出现，以便能够持久地顺利、匀速向前，并利用理性确保这个过程没有障碍，从而彻底弄清楚自己的进步。“一点一点地积累并持之以恒”这个忠告不仅对于财富的积累有效，而且对一切事物都具有普世价值，特别是对于德行的进步意义重大，因为理性会因此获得许多良好习性的帮助，带来收获。

然而，哲学研究者良莠不齐，有一些生性愚钝，他们在取得进步的道路上延误徘徊，甚至倒退，因为人一旦放弃追求、虚度光阴，恶习就会抓紧时机对他们进行伏击，进而把他们拽回并推向相反的方向。数学家告诉我们，行星若停止向前运动，就会静止，但在哲学研究中，即便进步停止，也不会出现间断、静止的情形，因为人性总是在不断变化中，好像天平上不断变化倾斜的两端，或是受好的影响向更好的方向发展，或是受坏的影响向更坏的方向发展。所以如果你遵守神谕“日夜与克亥人战斗”，而且你清楚要抵抗恶习，日复一日永不停休，或者至少你几乎没有放松警惕，也没有经常耽于享受、欢娱，因为它们就好像是恶习派来进行妥协谈判的特使，那么你就可以勇敢无畏、激情饱满地向未来前进。

然而，即便一个人的哲学研究会被打断，但如果以后的研究比以前更稳定、更持久，那么这就是一个好的迹象，表明勤奋工作和不断努力能够逐渐消除懈怠。然而，过了一段时间之后，挫折持续不断地出现，饱满的热情逐渐退却，就会出现不良现象。打个比方，一根芦苇开始生长，没有阻力，其成长也不被干扰，就会保持旺盛的长势，长出长而光滑的芦苇杆子；但后来，似乎由于呼吸困难，它的长势变弱，甚至不再长高，因为高度被苇杆中的许多带有空心的结节给限制了，它的生命力受到了冲击。这只是一个形容哲学研究的比喻：有的人刚开始时精力充沛，兴致勃勃，随后不断遭遇大量障碍与干扰，同时看不见任何进步，最后忍受不了而无奈放弃。但是，另一方面，有的人为哲学惠益所激发，如虎添翼，加上因取得成就而产生了动力和热情，便把种种拦路虎一样的借口横扫一边。

当你与喜欢的人在一起时，并不是幸福感使你意识到你已坠入爱河（因为并非只有爱情才会让你感到幸福），而当你和对方分开时会感到痛苦和伤心，这才是恋爱的标志。 同样，许多人被哲学所吸引，兴致勃勃地开始学习，但如果由于别的因素使他们放弃学习，他们的热情就会消退，不再关心哲学了。“一个人若是被心爱的人所伤”，他在进行哲学讨论时会表现得平静和温顺，但当他远离哲学讨论时，他会焦躁不安，对一切心怀不满；他对哲学的向往会使他变得好像失去理智，忘记了身边的朋友。关键问题是，我们对待讨论不应该像喜欢香水那样，没有香水的时候，不会到处寻找香水，不会浑身难受，而应该是当脱离哲学讨论时（不论是结婚、航海、交友还是兵役导致这种隔离），我们能体验到一种类似于饥渴的感受，这种感受能使我们保持真正的事业进步。一个人从哲学中获益越多，离开哲学时，他的不快也会越多。

我们所说的进步与古代赫西奥德对“进步”的阐述基本相同，或者非常相似——道路不再陡峭，不再是上坡路而变为平坦大道，仿佛是不断付出的努力造就了坦途，仿佛这段旅程为哲学带来了希望和光明。在哲学中，学生在学习之初困惑迷茫，游移不定，好比水手离开他们熟知的陆地，却看不到作为目的地的陆地。因为他们放弃了正常的、熟悉的事物，却又没有获取新的知识，拥有更美好的事物，于是他们就在这一过程中原地打转，甚至经常返回原点。

罗马人沙斯提乌斯就是一个例子：为了哲学，他放弃了政治舞台上的显要位置。但是，他在哲学学习中缺乏耐心，发现学习哲学异常困难，差点想跳楼。还有一个类似的故事，讲的是西诺普的第欧根尼最初投身哲学研究的事：在雅典的一个假日，人们举行盛大宴会，在剧院上演节目，派对接二连三，狂欢通宵达旦，而此时第欧根尼蜷缩在广场的角落里试图入睡。他心烦意乱，脑子里满是自我毁灭的想法，他一直想弄清楚，在没有外力强迫的情况下，他曾经如何按照自己的自由意愿，采用了一种劳其筋骨、异于常人的生活方式，并摒弃了所有那些美好的事物。然而，就在那时（据传），一只老鼠爬了上来，不管不顾地咀嚼他掉下的面包屑。第欧根尼开动脑筋，反思自己，仿佛自我批评、自我蔑视地说：“第欧根尼，你在想什么？你吃剩的东西竟成了一只小老鼠的美食？然而你，一个堂堂的男子汉——就因为你不能躺在华丽的软椅上醉酒狂欢，就这么怨声连连、唉声叹气吗？”当那种坏心情偶有发生时，理性会很快介入，好像战败后重整旗鼓一样，帮助我们摒弃和消除坏心情，轻而易举地驱散我们心头的焦虑与不安，于是我们便可坚信我们的进步有了坚实的基础。

然而，哲学研习者自身的弱点不是导致他们踟蹰和倒退的唯一因素，朋友们热心的忠告和批评者的冷嘲热讽也会歪曲、削弱他们的决心，甚至使一些人完全放弃哲学。因此，如果一个人能心绪平静地面对这些不利因素，听到人们提及自己的同行如何在皇宫里飞黄腾达，或是如何通过婚姻得到一大笔钱，或是如何经过民众选举进入元老院担任政法要职，而不会意志消沉或心烦意乱，这就说明他已经取得了良好的进步。对一个人来说，在此类情形下不惊慌失措或摇摆不定，这就清楚地表明他学习得法，牢牢掌握了哲学的精髓。因为绝大多数人赞赏的行为唯独他不去效仿是不可能的，除非这个人已经习惯于赞赏美德；即使在愤怒和疯狂的时候，人也有能力立足于人前，但是藐视被普世赞赏的行为，如果没有真正崇高的、坚定的意志，这是不可能的。

这也是人们与他人的心态相比而引以为豪的原因，如梭伦所说：“我们决不会拿我们的美德去与他们的财富做交易，因为拥有美德是恒久稳固的，而钱财却是暂时拥有的。”第欧根尼曾反复移居于科林斯与雅典，并因此以波斯王自比，波斯王春天居于苏萨，冬天居于巴比伦，夏天居于米堤亚。阿格西劳斯也曾这样评价波斯王：“他比我更伟大只是因为比我更有德。”亚里士多德在写信给安提帕特时提到亚历山大，他指出不能因为亚历山大统治着许多人，他就是唯一有权感到骄傲的人：任何人只要真正地信奉诸神，就能拥有同样的权利。当芝诺看到色奥弗拉斯托斯受到为数众多的学生景仰时，他说：“虽然他的合唱队人数更多，但我的合唱队唱得更悦耳动听。”不管怎样，将美德与外在形式对立起来，能够消除你对他人的嫉妒和猜忌，所有让哲学初学者困惑沮丧的事物也将烟消云散，这时你则可以认为这是你取得进步的明显表现。

一个人言谈中发生的变化也是一个很重要的迹象。哲学初学者几乎无一例外地倾向于能提高自己声誉的言谈方式。一些人就像飞鸟一样浅薄自大，想要一蹴而就，达到科学辉煌的顶峰；另一些人则像柏拉图所说，“如小狗一样，喜欢拖拉撕咬”，他们喜欢找人理论、诡辩以解决难题。许多初学者沉迷于哲学争论之中，并以此作为诡辩的武器。还有的人到处搜集格言和语录，就如阿拉卡雪斯曾经说道，在他看来，希腊人拥有钱财只是为了计算数额，他们会数钱却不会用钱，同样这些希腊人也只会清算他们所拥有东西的数量，而不去积累对他们有益的其他东西。

所有这一切的结果都有安提法奈斯的言论为证，并被应用到柏拉图的回环法中。安提法奈斯曾经讲过一个有趣的故事，在某个城市，只要开口说话，话一出口就被冻成了冰。等到了夏天解冻之后，人们才听到在冬天里说的话。他指出，柏拉图对人们年轻时候所说的话，其实也是同样的道理。直到很久以后，人们都已经老态龙钟，此时大部分人才意识到其中的深意。人们学习任何形式的哲学也是这样的经历，只有当人的判断合理、可靠，才开始形成能渗透到道德品质和道德范畴的原则，并开始寻找一种话语，这种话语的踪迹，借用伊索的比喻，深入人心，而不流于表面。索福克勒斯曾说，他首先减轻了埃斯库罗斯语言的厚重，接着处理他自己夸张和造作的风格，之后才开始第三步，改变语言的特点，因为语言对道德和德行最具影响力。以此类推，只有当哲学研究者停止利用争论进行卖弄和造作，转而寻找一种能表达他们的个性和内心感受的话语，他们才会开始获得真正的、谦逊的进步。

因此，首先，你要确定自己在阅读哲学著作、聆听哲学演说时是否过于重视语言而忽略了主题，是否更在意晦涩难懂的只言片语而不是有用的、充实的、有益的文章。其次，你研究诗歌和历史的时候要多加小心，不要忽略了那些表达恰当、能促进品性、缓和情感的东西。就像西蒙尼德斯在谈到花丛中的蜜蜂时说：“（蜜蜂）专注的是琥珀色的蜂蜜”，然而别的人关注的却只是花的颜色和香气。因此，当人们为了开心娱乐而研读诗歌时，若有人靠自己的努力寻找并搜集了一些有价值的东西，那么就可以认为他的习惯以及对美好和谐事物的喜爱已经使他能够欣赏诗歌中美好和谐的东西了。

例如，有些人喜欢柏拉图和色诺芬的语言，但是只专注于他们朴实的阿提卡语言风格（就好比它是鲜花雨露一般）。对这些人的唯一评价就是：他们喜欢药物的适口和芳香，却不关心甚至无法辨识药物的镇痛和通便的效用。相比之下，那些不断取得进步的人能够从所见的、所处的环境中而不是从所说所写的字词中受益，并能获得合适的、有用的东西。

在埃斯居罗斯和其他类似的典故中可以证明这一点。例如，埃斯居罗斯在科林斯地峡运动会上观看一场拳击比赛，只要一名拳击手被击中，观众就会爆发雷鸣般的喊声，埃斯居罗斯用肘轻轻碰了下基沃斯的伊翁，对他说：“看见这训练的结果了吧？被击倒的人一声不吭，而看客却高声大叫。”布拉西达斯捡到一些干的无花果却被这些无花果里的一只老鼠咬了一口，他赶紧把它扔掉，“多么不可思议啊！”他说道，“不管多么弱小的生命，只要有勇气自卫，就能活下去！”第欧根尼看见有人用手喝水，就立刻从包裹里掏出自己的杯子扔掉。

这些故事都说明，只要专心致志并持续努力，就一定能从任何事物中看到并汲取其中隐含的美德。如果用理论对实践加以补充，这个结果就更易出现。不仅仅是像修昔底德说的“在险境中坚持研习，而且要在开心愉快或争论不休的时候，在参与决策的时候，在法庭诉讼答辩和处理政务的时候，切实展示自己的信念，或是通过实践树立自己的信念。但是对于那些仍在学习的人来说，通过思考自己能从哲学中获得什么来充实自己，使自己能够在政治论坛上、年轻人的聚会上或是王宫的宴会上信手拈来，这些人并不能被称为哲学家，而是像被称为医生的江湖郎中罢了，或许更确切一点地描述这种诡辩家，就如荷马所描述的鸟一样，因为他只是反刍给自己的学生，仿佛他们是他羽翼未丰的幼鸟，如果他不对自己有利的东西进行思考或是对学到的东西进行消化吸收，那么任何他接受的东西都只是囫囵吞枣罢了。

因此，对我们来说弄明白以下方面至关重要：首先，我们利用语言优化自我，其次，相对其他人而言，我们这样做不是为了得到虚幻的荣耀或公众的认可，而是我们想要学习和传授一些东西。但是我们首先得确保研究问题时，不再有竞争和争论，不再用争论武装自己，就像在拳击赛中用手套和指节套去攻击他人，为把对方打倒在地而欣喜，而是把重点放在学习和传授上。在讨论中彬彬有礼，不争先恐后，也不怒气冲冲地结束，在赢得辩论后不自鸣得意，在输掉辩论后也不怨天尤人，这些都是一个人在德行上有进步的标志。亚里斯提卜给我们做了榜样：他在一次辩论中败北，赢得了辩论的信心满满，但是却愚蠢、浅薄，亚里斯提卜看到那人胜出后兴高采烈、被胜利冲昏头脑的样子，说：“我要回家了：尽管我输了，但我今晚将美美地睡上一觉，虽然你赢了，但我会睡得比你香。”

我们公开说话时，也可以估量自己的德行：出乎意料地看到有一大群人来听演讲，我们不怯场；听众寥寥无几，我们也不沮丧气馁；要求面向公众或官员讲话时，我们能够把握机会，尽管没有充分准备，也能应对自如。德摩斯提尼和亚西比德就能这样做。亚西比德善于把握演说的主题，但却对演说的表达技巧缺乏自信，结果有时把自己给绕进去，甚至是经常说到一半的时候，总是停下来搜肠刮肚地去想用一些难懂的词或短语，导致听众嘘声四起。相比之下，荷马并不发愁开始几行没有韵律，他的才能使得自己对剩下的诗歌内容信心十足。因此，我们大可以想象，那些努力为美德和优点奋斗的人会很好地利用机遇和主题，而不在意他们演讲的语言是否引起听众激昂的欢呼。

这对言谈举止同样适用，每个人应该确保自己关注的是有用的东西，而不是为了炫耀，追求的是真理，而不是为了显摆。如果对一个年轻人或女子的真爱不需要别人的见证，就算是秘密满足自己的追求也能收获快乐的果实，那么，那些爱好美德和智慧、通过自己的举止体现美德的人，更有可能对自己内在的魅力保持沉默，而不需要有人欣赏。曾经有人在家命令自己的女佣，对她大声叫道：“看着我，迪奥尼西娅，我不再自以为是了”。与此类似，做了一些善事之后便到处对人说，很明显，他依然关注的是外界对自己的赞赏和公众对自己的认可，这也表明他并没有见识过真正的美德，他在虚幻的梦想阴影里任意表演，从未真正醒悟，还要把自己的行为示人，就像展示一幅画一样。

由此可见，在帮助朋友或熟人之后，却不到处宣扬，这就是德行进步的标志。当周围的人都堕落腐化时仍坚守诚实，拒绝向富人或权贵可耻地折腰，唾弃贿赂，在夜晚渴望喝酒时能克制不饮，像阿格西劳斯那样克制自己不与漂亮的姑娘亲吻——一个人能默默坚守这些也是德行进步的标志。像这样的人能够获得自我认可，不会被人轻视，亲眼见证了自己行善时会感到快乐满足，这表明理性已经在他内心得到滋养并在他身上扎根，如德谟克里特所说，他“正习惯于成为自己快乐的源泉”。

农民喜欢看到饱满的稻穗弯腰垂向大地，他们认为那些空瘪的昂首挺立的稻穗是些没有分量的冒牌货。立志成为哲学家的年轻人也是如此：那些没有内涵、毫无分量的人喜欢出风头，行为举止矫揉造作、趾高气昂，脸上满是鄙夷的神情，蔑视一切事物。 但是当他们从学习中有了收获变得充实时，他们就会抛弃浅薄自大。正如空容器中加入液体时，里面的空气受到挤压会排出去一样，当人被真正好的东西充实时，他们的自负造作就会土崩瓦解，不再因为蓄着胡子穿着破旧的礼服而自得，而是将努力学到的东西铭记于心。他们严于律己，宽以待人。他们改变了以前的陋习：不再以哲学的名义、以学习哲学获得好名声。相反，如果一个内心善良的年轻人被别人称为“哲学家”，他会变得惊慌不安，尴尬地笑着说：“瞧你，我不是神，为什么将我视为神呢？”正如埃斯居罗斯所说：“年轻姑娘经历了爱情，她的眼睛闪耀的光芒就会出卖她。”年轻人获得了真正哲学上的收获时，萨福的话就非常贴切，“我张口结舌，浑身激情燃烧。”尽管他的双眸无忧无虑、平静镇定，但你却渴望听他说话。

当入会仪式开始时，参加者聚集在一起，声音嘈杂，互相推搡，可当仪式开始举行时，他们立刻安静下来，全神贯注，充满敬畏。这就像是学习哲学之初，许多人站在哲学的门槛外，充斥着无序、嘈杂和自信，粗鲁地推搡着，努力获得哲学带来的名声；但是当人发现自己入门之后，沐浴着耀眼的哲学之光，仿佛神殿开启，他就会惊讶得呆住，变得安静，“用谦逊和克制去遵从”理性，就像遵循神明一样。对于这些人，墨涅德摩斯的戏言似乎形容得更加绝妙。他说，大量远渡重洋来雅典学习的人都会经过以下历程：他们一开始充满智慧，后来变成了爱智者，再后来成为了哲学家，随着时间的推移，他们又成了普通人。他们获得理性越多，就越会逐渐抛弃自负和虚荣做作。

当人们牙疼或手指受伤需要治疗时，他们会直接去看医生；发烧时，会请医生上门，请求医生为自己看病；但如果病患到了极限——得了忧郁症或是脑膜炎或是精神错乱，他们有时会忍受不了医生上门看病，要么将医生赶走，要么逃避看病，因为他们的病已严重到意识不到自己疾病缠身了。犯错的人也是如此：对责备、训斥自己的人恼怒生气，举止蛮横挑衅，这样的人是无可救药的，然而对那些能忍受责备，不对抗的人来说，情况要缓和得多。有些人犯了错误，但是愿意接受别人的批评，指出自己的错误，不隐藏自己的错误，不为做了错事未受惩罚而窃喜，也不为别人未辨认出自己是一个怎样的人而窃喜，而是承认错误，请求别人训诫自己，这绝对表明他在进步。这也是第欧根尼之所以认为为了寻求安全，人应该注意寻找一位挚友或一个劲敌，这样才能通过两种方式之一——受到责难或是受到照顾——摆脱恶习。

试想一个人的衣服上有明显的污迹或印渍，或是鞋子上有裂口，在外面却把这些当做妄自菲薄的借口，或是以自己身材矮小或驼背自嘲来展示自己的嬉皮精神：这样做无非是在掩盖自己丑陋的灵魂，隐藏他生命的缺陷、他的卑鄙猥琐、享乐主义、怨天尤人、心怀不满，就仿佛这些是脓肿，不让任何人碰触或看见它们，因为害怕受到责备，那么这样的人的进步就微乎其微了，甚至是没有进步。但是，与这些缺点战斗的人，尤其是他能够也愿意向自己展示这些缺点，并为此痛心，接着他能够也愿意接受别人的苛责，他的灵魂必将在这些磨难中得到净化，恰恰是这样的人真正地憎恶卑贱，确确实实地愿意消除卑贱。

当然，避免受辱难堪甚至是坏名声对每个人都很重要；但是，有的人厌恶现实的罪恶更甚于卑劣的坏名声，如果目的是促进德行进步的话，那么他既不回避别人对自己的责难，也不苛责别人。例如，在一家客栈里，第欧根尼看见一个逃跑出来的年轻人，跑进这家客栈，他巧妙地说了一句：“你越往里跑，你就越会在这客栈里。”一个人对缺陷否认得越多，他就越沉沦、越被禁锢在这些缺陷里。 本是穷人却要假装富有，他的虚伪只会使得他更加贫乏。希波克拉底记录下自己无法理解头骨的缝合，并公布了这一事实，为正在努力进步的年轻人树立了榜样，因此希波克拉底通过宣示自己的弱点去帮助别人避免重蹈覆辙；而一个致力于绝对正确的人往往不敢接受别人的谴责，或承认自己的荒谬无知。

事实上，彼翁和皮罗的主张不仅表明德行进步，而且指的是一种更美好、更完美的境界。彼翁告诉自己的朋友们，如果听到辱骂就好比听到这样的一些话：“朋友，你看起来并不邪恶，也不愚蠢，祝你健康、快乐，愿神明保佑你万事如意。”那么你就应该认为自己德行进步了。皮罗的故事是这样的：他曾经在海上航行时遭遇了风暴，身陷险境，他指着一头正津津有味地吃着漏掉的大麦的小猪，对同伴说：一个人若不想被任何事干扰，就要用理智和哲学使自己有着这猪一样的超脱。

请注意芝诺所说的——一个人的梦想应该是使自己意识到他的德行在进步，在睡眠中对可耻的事情感到不快，不纵容也不做可怕的骇人听闻的事情，相反，他就像在彻底的宁静祥和中顿悟，灵魂中的幻想和情绪被理智驱散了。柏拉图显然在芝诺之前就意识到了这一点，他简要地描述天生暴戾的灵魂中幻想的非理性方面在睡眠中的所作所为：“它妄图乱伦”，对各种美食有着难以抗拒的冲动，想干伤风败俗、越轨的事，像自己所渴望的那样随心所欲，这些事情在白天因为受道德习俗约束使人感到羞耻和惧怕，在梦里就解除禁锢了。

驯服的牲畜不会想要偏离队列而走失，即使它们的主人松开了缰绳，它们也会井然有序地列队前行，保持自己的节奏，老老实实地按照路线行进。同样，人们非理性的方面已经被理性教化、变得文明后，即使是在睡梦中或是生病时，人们也不会放纵欲望伤风败俗，为所欲为。相反，人们时时注意保持理智并牢记在心，因为理智能赋予我们集中注意力的力量和能量。如果通过训练，身体的各部分能够协调一致——甚至是整个身体以及它的任一局部都能控制自如——不会因满目疮痍而泪流满面，因惊骇万状而砰然心跳，因情投意合而冲动越轨，那么，这自然增加了训练掌握灵魂中情感因素的程度，可以说，通过消除包括睡梦中的各种幻想和感官刺激，能使情感优雅有度。

有一则关于哲学家斯提尔波的故事能证实这一点。他在梦中看到海神波塞冬对他怒气冲冲，因为他没有向海神祭献一头公牛（给波塞冬的常规祭品），但是斯提尔波丝毫没有忐忑不安，他说：“波塞冬，您什么意思？难道您是因为我没有破产到让这座城市充满祭品的焦味，而是在家倾我所有向您适度进献，才会像个幼稚的孩子来此抱怨的吗？”然后他梦见波塞冬笑了，向他伸出右手说，看在斯提尔波的份上，我要让迈加拉的沙丁鱼丰产！

所以，不管怎样，那些有着愉快的、清新的、无忧无虑的美梦的人在梦里感受不到任何可怕的、恐怖的不正常之事，这是他们德行取得进步的明显特征。但是那些痛苦、奇异的梦境——在梦中狂热、兴奋，像懦夫一样逃避危险，经历孩童般的悲喜——犹如波涛此起彼伏，这是因为人们还不能自我掌控心灵，仍然受到世俗和规则的约束，所以当他在睡觉的时候，灵魂远离这些约束，重获自由，依然受到情感的影响。现在，请你和我一起思考，我所说的这些现象的根源是属于进步还是源自于一种建立在理智之上的心态，一种稳重、可靠的心态。

绝对的超凡脱俗是崇高而神圣的，进步之于这种境界，就好像感情的减少和节制，因此，重要的是要审视我们的情感，比较各种不同的情感，区分它们之间的不同。我们必须要将现在的情感和过去的情感相比较，看看我们现在的欲望、敬畏和激情是否没有过去那么强烈，因为我们通过理智能很快消除这些强烈和热切的情感；我们必须要将各种情感相互比较，看看我们现在的羞耻之心是否比我们的敬畏之心更锐利，更愿意与人竞争而不是妒忌他人，重名誉而轻钱财。 简而言之，我们必须通过比较不同的情感，用音乐家的话说，才能知道我们是否对多利安模式过宽而对利地安模式过严，我们的生活模式是否更趋于禁欲主义而不是享乐主义，我们的行动是否变得稳重而不是冒进，我们看待论点和人物的眼光是否是惊奇而不是鄙夷。就疾病而言，当它转移到身体非致命的部位，便是健康恢复的一个好迹象；同理，就恶习而言，当正在努力进步的人用高尚的情感来审视自身的恶习，这些恶习便会逐渐被消除。弗里尼斯在七弦琴上额外加了两条琴弦，于是长官们就问他是切掉顶端的两条弦还是切掉底端的两条弦，因为通常是七根琴弦，我们首先要弄清楚什么是必须的，如果两端的琴弦都要被切掉的话，是否就是处在中间不偏不倚的位置，其次是德行进步始于我们情感的极端和强度的削减，就像索福克勒斯所说，“贪欲使人过度劳累”。

我们已经提到将想法付诸行动，别让语言只是文字游戏而要落实到行动上，这才是特别典型的德行进步的表现。首要要效仿我们称道的行为，渴望去做我们钦佩的事，而不愿去做甚至不能容忍我们诟病的事。例如，米太亚德因其勇气和胆量在雅典受到广泛赞美，但是，狄米斯托克利却说米太亚德的战利品使他难以安寝甚至让他无法得到片刻休息，很明显狄米斯托克利不仅仅是在表达对米太亚德的敬仰和赞美，而且被米太亚德折服要去效仿他。因此，如果我们对成功事物的赞美流于表面，而不足以激励我们去效仿的话，那么我们取得的进步就微乎其微。

爱慕之情并不是改变一个人的力量，除非与之相随的是渴望效仿。赞誉美德如果不能激励我们，指引我们去效仿美好的事物，而是心怀嫉妒，那么这种赞美就不是热烈、有效的。亚西比德强调了心灵为贤达的话所打动而泪流满面的意义，不仅这样，真正进步的人将自己的行为与优秀的榜样相比较，意识到自己的不足而深感痛心，也因内心充满希望而欢欣鼓舞，满怀一种永不停歇的劲儿。用西摩尼得斯的话形容，就好比一匹奔跑在母马身边未断奶的马驹，因为他渴望成为完美的人。实际上，我们喜爱有些人的性格，极力模仿他们的行为，而且在自觉模仿时伴有良好的意愿，愿给予他们敬意和荣誉，这样的过程才是典型的真正的德行进步。但是，若有人争强好胜，对比自己强的人心怀嫉妒，那他一定要意识到让自己生气的只不过是对某种名誉或能力的嫉妒，而并不是对美德的敬慕和赞赏。

所以，当我们仰慕贤达时，如柏拉图所说，我们不仅认为有责任的人是幸运的，而谁要听到这样有责任的人说的话也是幸运的。我们喜欢他们的姿势、步态、面容和微笑，渴望追随他们，紧紧相随，那么，我们就可以名正言顺地认为自己正在取得真正的进步。还有一种更为合情合理的情形，假如我们对完美者的仰慕并不仅仅是他们成功的一面，而是如爱人一般，即使他们口齿不清、面容苍白，也会毫不犹豫地深爱对方：尽管不幸和悲惨使潘德亚痛苦哭泣，但依然打动了阿拉斯普斯的心，同样，我们不应该因为阿里斯提德的流亡，阿拉克萨戈拉的囚禁，苏格拉底的贫穷，福基翁的获罪而退缩，因为我们坚信，即使是在那样恶劣的环境下美德依然是值得我们追求的。只要内心有追求我们就应该向美德靠拢，用欧里庇得斯的话说：“品格高尚的人对污秽的东西视若无物。”人若受到足够的鼓舞激励，即使面对貌似可怕的事物，也会心怀敬意，并去效仿，而不是疏离它们，那他一定永远不会脱离美好的事物。在已经成为这样的人的经历中，无论是处理事务、担任公职或是遭遇险境，都会想象过去的贤达完美之人，并且自省：“若是柏拉图在此境遇会怎样？伊帕美农达斯会如何说？吕库古斯、阿基希劳斯会怎样处理？”他以他们为镜，把自己置于镜前对照，或是调整自己的立场，或是克制自己不说卑劣的话，或是控制情感的爆发。有的人获知伊达山山神达克提尔众多的名字并不断诵读每一个名字，就好像是用来驱赶恐惧的符咒，同样，当任何情感和艰难困苦折磨那些不断取得德行进步的人时，对完美者的思念和回忆会立刻涌上心头，并让他们不断思考，这会让他们逢凶化吉，不屈不挠。因此，这也是使你能辨认出那些德行进步之人的另一种标志。

此外，当有一位因自制力强而名声在外的人出乎意料地出现在你面前时，你能够不心慌意乱，不害羞脸红，不避之唯恐不及，也不想重新调整自己的特质，能够毫无怯意地迎上去，你就能确信自己已经意识到德行的进步了。当亚历山大看到使者愉快地大步走来，并向他伸出右手时说，“我的朋友，你带来了什么消息？是荷马重新活过来了吗？”因为他觉得自己的丰功伟绩尚需一位智者的声音为自己扬名立万。首先，不断完善性格特性、提升自我的年轻人表达爱的方式是在真正优秀的人面前如数家珍，向他们展示自己的家庭、膳食、妻子、孩子、职业以及口笔头的表达能力，为去世的家长或先师不能目睹他目前的情形而悲痛不已，他最诚挚地向神灵祈祷的唯一事情就是他们能复活见证他现在的生活和所为。另一方面，对自己毫不负责而把自己毁掉的人恰恰相反，他们连在梦里碰见亲人也会焦躁不安，难以镇定。

还有一个能表明德行进步的标志，并不是无足轻重的，请你把它作为我们前面已经讨论过的几点的补充吧。那就是一个人不再认为自己的错误是微不足道的，而是严肃对待，密切关注。不再希望成为富有的人，每次花掉小数目的钱时，不以为然，因为他们认为积少成不了多，然而，积蓄增多越接近目标，渴望成为富人的愿望就越迫切。与德行相关的行为也是如此：那些从不姑息，以“这有什么大不了的？”“这次就这样了，下次会更好些”为托词的人会每时每刻认真对待，如果恶习以它的借口像蠕虫一样渗透到他最微小的错误中，他也会无法忍受，变得焦躁不安，这些人显然在这个过程中已为自己赢得了一定的纯洁，他不能接受以任何方式对自己的玷污。另一方面，认为没有什么事情会或者可能给人带来奇耻大辱，就会对微小的事情粗心大意，若无其事。事实上，建一堵墙的时候，用一块奇特的木头或是一块普通的石头作地基是没有区别的，如果从坟墓里掉出来的一块石碑被放进地基，这种行为就类似德行降格的人对陈旧事物的简单堆砌。但那些德行在进步的人们，他们已经打好了扎实的生命基础（就像神殿或王宫的基础一样），不会不加选择地取得事物，而是以理智为标尺促使物得其所。这在我看来，就是波利克莱图斯所指出的，他说如果用粘土雕塑时到了使用手指甲的地步，那任务就极为艰巨了。

论制怒

苏拉：丰达努斯，我认为画家们定期审视他们的作品，然后再进一步修饰的做法是值得称道的。不停地熟悉作品，不会发现它们与想塑造的形象有多少差异，因此打破这种连续性，以全新的视角反复赏鉴，更易于捕捉到细微的差别。但对个人来说，不可能套用这种固定的方式中断自我赏鉴的连续性来审视自我，这正是自己比他人更无法判断自我的主要原因。因此，其次的做法是定期审视自己的朋友，出于同样目的向他们展示自己，这并不是要看看他是否突然变老或者他的身体状况是好还是坏，而是指经过一段时间之后，判断他是否增进了良好的习惯和品德，或是否戒除了不良的习性。

无论如何，我离开一年多之后又回到了罗马，我和你在一起也四个多月了，我发现你与生俱来的优点进一步发扬了，并且有了如此大的进步，对此我并不特别惊讶。但是，当我看到许多通情达理的人顺服于你强悍、暴躁的脾气时，我倾向于引用这句话来评论你的性急，“他要是性情更温和一些，那该多好！”

然而，变得温和亲切并不曾使你懦弱无能，它用柔顺的外表及有效、有益的深度——就像一块耕耘后的田地——取代了你那人尽皆知的情绪突变。因此，你的脾气变得温和显然不是因为年龄的增长或其他自觉的因素，而是在于你接纳了良好的合理建议之后。但我必须承认，当我们共同的朋友厄洛斯告诉我你的这些情况时，我怀疑是他对你的温情使你具备了真正善良的人们应该拥有的品质，虽然你过去并没有这些品质。但我认为这忽略了一个事实，他不是一个为了取悦他人而放弃自己立场的人。现在，我很清楚他没有瞎说。我们一起旅行时没有别的事可做，因此我想知道你是否愿意解释你是如何让自己的性情变得温柔、稳健、顺从、有担当的呢——比如，你遵从哪些规则。

丰达努斯：仁慈的苏拉，你确信不是你温暖的友情使你失去对我性格方面的判断力吗？我是说，甚至厄洛斯自己都经常无法控制自己的脾气，“保持一贯的温顺”（正如荷马所说），是正义的怒火让情绪爆发了。因此，在这些情况下我与他相比可能显得比较通情达理，正如当范围在一定程度发生变化时，高音能取代低音一样。

苏拉：这些可能性都不现实。丰达努斯，请帮我个忙，按我要求的去做吧。

丰达努斯：好吧，苏拉。穆梭留斯提出了一些极好的建议，我记得其中一条是持续的生命疗法能保护免疫系统。问题的关键在于，当理性充当治疗剂时，在我看来——疾病能像黑黎芦一样从免疫系统里被祛除出去是不可能的，它会保留在心里，控制并审视我们的决定。从其效果来看，理性类比并非良药，但由于大家都习惯从营养的食物中获得能量和健康，一旦情绪激动达到一个峰值时，忠告和责难要进行长久而艰苦的斗争，才有微小的收获，恰如嗅盐一样，能刺激晕厥无意识的人们苏醒，但不能消除实际的疾病。

但是，即便是在达到峰值时，当理性和强化物从外部进入心里时，所有其他情绪会在某种意义上回落和消退；但是愤怒并不会完全像墨兰提俄斯说的那样——“它取代理智，犯下罪行”；事实上，只有当愤怒彻底取代理智，并将理智拒于门外时，它才会这么做。那种情形类似于人们在家中被烧死，从某种意义上说，愤怒使心里充满了混乱、厌恶和噪音，结果是人们看不到、听不到任何有益的东西。因此，在海上一艘废弃的船更容易将舵手由外向内卷进风暴中心，而被暴怒的海洋淹没的人要被外界说服则难得多，除非他自己作好了理性准备。人们没有外援就会尽其所能积累有用的东西以应付进攻。同样，特别重要的是，人们从四面八方搜集有哲理的事物， 并牢记于心，用以帮助抵抗愤怒，因为当有迫切需要的时候人们往往不容易找到那些帮助。我的意思是说，喧嚣嘈杂阻止心灵听到任何外部情况，除非心灵有它自己的理性，就像船舱里的水手长，他能迅速学会并懂得每一个指令，此外，即使心灵能听到任何事物，它也会在挑衅生气的时候听不见安静、温柔的规劝。问题的关键在于，傲慢、任性和固执的脾气很难为外部动因所改变，就像根基稳固的暴政一样，只有通过内部固有的动因才能将其推翻。

如果愤怒和怨恨成为常态，心灵就会变得易怒，使人变得敏感、恶毒、令人讨厌——变得多愁善感、吹毛求疵：即便铁块被进一步锻造也会变得薄弱。另一方面，如果理性分辨当即抵抗和压制任何愤怒的爆发，不仅能挽救当前的形势，而且将来能给心灵带来活力和解脱。

就我来看，无论如何，我曾经有过两三次克制愤怒的情况，我经历过底比斯人所经历过的事情：他们在第一次击退了不可战胜的斯巴达人后，在后来的战役中就再也没有被斯巴达人打败过。因此，我树立了坚定的信念，即理性战胜一切。我认为，亚里士多德关于冷水能浇熄怒火的断言是不全面的：面对恐惧，怒火也会熄灭。此外，当然， 用荷马的说法，幸福突然降临经常会导致愤怒瞬间“融化”和消散。我深信，最终的结果是，只要有这种意愿，愤怒的情绪并非完全不可救药。想想看，微不足道的事情也可能会激发愤怒：一个玩笑，一句无心的话，一个笑声，一个点头示意等等，都会激发愤怒。举个例子，海伦给她的侄女写信时，以这样刺激的言辞写道：“伊利克特拉，未婚的老姑娘，在过去的岁月你耗费时间去寻找感觉，使你的家族蒙羞。”当大酒杯仍在传递时，卡利斯提尼斯的一句“我不想喝亚历山大的酒，因为随后又得去看医神阿斯克勒庇俄斯”激怒了亚历山大。

因此，正如要控制开始在兔毛、灯芯或一堆垃圾上燃起来的火焰比较容易（一旦火焰开始在有厚度的固体上燃烧，它就会以熊熊之势迅速摧毁建筑师崇高的作品，如埃斯库罗斯所说），如果有人重视初期的愤怒，意识到它逐渐开始郁积，并被一些言论或荒谬的讽刺激发而施加到他人身上是不需要费很大劲的，而通常想不让人发怒就是不说话，不理会别人的言语。不添加燃料就能够把火熄灭，不在刚开始生气时添油加醋、不动辄发怒就会变得明智，从而让愤怒消失殆尽。

我对希罗尼穆斯的说法不敢苟同，尽管他在别的方面有一些有用的意见和建议，但他却声称，由于愤怒发展的速度很快，它在萌芽时是不可察觉的，只有当它已经爆发并确实存在时才能被感知。我认为，所有的情感都要经历由量变到质变的运动过程，但没有任何情感从开始到发展是如此明显的。所以这也是荷马学说的巧妙之处：他曾说，“痛苦的乌云遮蔽了阿奇里斯”，当消息毫不迟延地传来时，他描述阿基里斯瞬间感到痛苦；但他认为阿伽门农的愤怒却是在许多刺激的言辞攻击后渐渐生成、逐步被激发的。如果任何被涉及的人在一开始没有说那些刺激的话，他们就不会争吵升级到如此程度，产生这么大的怒火。因此，每当苏格拉底意识到自己对朋友太急躁时，他深知心中的怒火“如暴风雨前汹涌的浪尖”一般涌动着，于是，他通常会压低声音，微笑着，并温和地看着对方，保持身体直立，通过向相反的方向平衡情绪，从而控制住自己的情绪。

你瞧，我的朋友，有一个克服我们暴君般脾气的最佳方式，那就是当愤怒驱使我们提高声音、涨红脸颊、胸膛起伏时，不服从它的驱使，保持安静，情绪就仿佛一种疾病，不能通过捶胸顿足和大声哭喊使它加剧。它就像开派对、唱歌和装饰门框——典型的爱侣行为——在某种程度上有一个缓和或减轻，不会令人不高兴（“我来了，但没有侮辱你：我吻了你的门。如果这是一种犯罪，我就是一个罪犯”）；哀悼者或许能够通过哭泣和泪水消除心中的悲痛，但愤怒状态下的人们激烈的行为和言语会极大地加剧愤怒的情绪。

因此，最好是保持平静，或干脆走开，默默地躲藏起来，寻找庇护，尽管我们意识到要有一种适当的方式，避免发怒，更不要怒及他人——因为我们往往首先迁怒于我们的朋友。我们感觉不到对每个人的爱、嫉妒或恐惧，而愤怒却将它们一网打尽，从而丧失和平：我们对敌人或朋友生气，对孩子或父母生气，甚至对诸神或动物或是没有生命的物体生气。例如，太阳神阿波罗的孙子塔米里斯，“弄坏了镀金琴架和七弦竖琴”，潘特罗斯就暗自发誓，如果他不能阻止他烧掉琴弓，“就一定空手把它打碎”。薛西斯甚至想用岩石给大海刻下烙印，使大海掀起滚滚波涛，他给山神写信道：“和天一样高的伟大的阿托斯，别再变得更加高大了，棘手的岩石已经妨碍了我的行动，不然我要把你撕碎，将你投进大海。”愤怒往往是可怕的，但往往又是荒谬的：因此，它是最遭人痛恨和鄙视的情感；但充分认识到这两方面又是有益的。

就我而言，不管怎样，我不知道这是否是对待愤怒正确的方式，我的方式如下： 就像斯巴达人试图通过观察他们的奴隶来了解酗酒一样，我试图通过观察他人来了解愤怒。希波克拉底说，一种疾病的严重性与病人的体征变得不正常的程度成正比，我首先注意到的是，被愤怒干扰的程度和由愤怒引起的外观、肤色、步态和声音改变的程度之间也存在着相似的关系。这一情绪的反应给我留下了深刻的印象，想到我可能曾经因为愤怒变得让人害怕，使朋友、妻子、女儿错愕骇然，我感到十分不安——不仅是外在的暴怒和面部扭曲让人无法辨认，而且遇到其他熟人时用粗鲁严厉的声音说话，愤怒使人们在交往中无法保持往常一样的特征、外形、愉快的交谈、令人信服的说服力和彬彬有礼。

演讲家盖乌斯·格拉古是一个直率的人，说话异常热烈，富有激情，他为自己做了一个小短笛，像音乐家用以引导四面八方的听众逐渐注意到自己的指挥棒一样。他的奴隶在他演讲时拿着短笛站在他的身后，让他的音调听起来适中，温和，这样能使格拉古的声音听起来不刺耳，也使他的音调不严厉激愤。就好像牛仔抹了蜡的牧笛发出清晰音调奏出催眠般的旋律，格拉古的奴隶就是这样缓和了这个演讲家的激愤。

假如我有一个机灵的随从也能帮我调节声音，我想我就不会生气了，他就像是我愤怒爆发时的一面镜子——即使偶而为之，虽然没有有效的目的，但对于深陷这种状态中的人来说——因为看到自己处于一个不正常的状态，所有的人都因而惴惴不安，就会对感情的质疑起到重要作用。实际上，有一个有趣的故事。有一次，雅典娜在吹奏管乐，森林之神告诉她：“这个表情不适合你。放下你的管乐，拿起你的武器，放松你的脸颊。”她毫不在意，然而，当她看到河中倒映出自己难看的脸庞时，她非常沮丧，赶紧扔掉了乐器。

至少艺术是高雅的，这分散了人们对愤怒状态中狰狞面目的关注。（玛尔叙阿斯显然是用一根束绳和一个吹口疏导他急促的气息，矫正和掩盖他气息不匀的特征：“束在两边太阳穴处头发中隐约闪现出金色，绳子绑在脑后，连接他那喋喋不休的嘴巴。”）而另一方面，愤怒不仅会夸张扭曲人的嘴脸，也使一个人的声音更加难听，让人生厌，把心里无法自拔的束缚解开吧！我的意思是，当大海被狂风激起千层浪，喷涌出海藻和海草时，人们说大海被净化了；但是没有修养的，苛刻的、恶意的言辞使愤怒在内心激荡爆发，演讲家们首当其冲深受其害。他们会因为经常有这样的言论而背负玷污社会的污名。因此，如柏拉图所说，他们为最微小的事情——甚至一个字——付出最沉重的代价，因为它们给人的印象是违反社会公德、造谣生事、心怀恶意。

尽管轻言细语、巧舌如簧有利于缓解狂躁，但是当我意识到并注意到这些时，我却不再记住和时刻提醒自己这一事实，因为这样更有利于抑制愤怒。我是说，如果一个生性狂躁的人说了些不合常理的话，无疑是种不好的症状，但这并不会造成更多的问题；但如果一个正常人突然变得言语粗暴、有攻击性甚至出现异常言论的倾向，就会反映出一种极端蛮横无礼的行为方式，对人际关系造成难以复原的破坏，也会暴露其不善交际的困扰。愤怒导致的不成熟、不和谐的后果要比烈酒更严重：烈酒导致的后果常常伴随着玩笑和歌声，愤怒的后果往往却是严重的摩擦冲突；喝酒会使一个安静的人情绪激动给他的同伴带来困扰，但愤怒却不会使其产生任何有尊严的行为。正如同女诗人萨福所说：“当愤怒占据你的内心，提防你所有的胡言乱语。”

但是，不断关注深陷愤怒感的人使我产生了更多的思考：它让人从其他角度理解愤怒的本质，明白其既不高尚也不刚勇、既无尊严也不体面。尽管如此，大多数人还是错把混乱当成效，错把威胁当英勇，错把顽固当坚强；甚至有的人会呼吁这种无情的勇猛，固执的勇气和粗暴的正义感。但是，这是错误的。因为这些行为方式的提倡恰恰暴露出他的狭隘与软弱。不仅仅是愤怒的人会恶意攻击幼儿，残暴对待妇女，还认为他们惩罚狗、马和骡子是理所当然（就像泰西封的潘德拉提亚斯特脚踢骡子以泄愤）；专制君主们狭隘的不宽容也会从他们野蛮的行为中体现出来，当他们被激怒，他们的心态就会通过其毒蛇般的残忍行为体现，对任何不服从他们的人会表现出极端愤怒。肉体遭遇沉重打击后会发生肿胀；同样，越是软弱的意志越是容易被击痛，他们的愤怒感也为因此日益增强。

这也是女人为何比男人更易怒，病人、老人或者不幸的人为何比健康、成熟或成功人士更易怒的原因。贪婪的人很可能因他的上司而生气、贪食者因烹调而生气、多疑者因自己的妻子而生气、自负者因有人说他的坏话而生气；但是，正如诗人品达所言，最严重的事情莫过于“执政者过度的野心会激起民愤”。愤怒主要是由软弱导致的精神上的痛苦引起的。有人认为，愤怒是在带有自卫冲动的过程中所产生的一种过度混乱的紧张思想，因此认为愤怒是思想的力量源泉，这种观点是错误的。

无论如何，看到这些可鄙的事例不太令人愉快，但绝对是必要的。不过，在我的耳闻目见中，我认为能以冷静平和的态度处理愤怒的人都是伟大的，所以我最初的出发点是鄙视那些声称“你冤枉他了，谁能忍受被冤枉？”以及“把他踩在脚底下，踏在他的脖子上，让他俯首帖耳” 的人：这些话语颇具煽动性，有些人不正确地利用它们将愤怒从女性身上转移给男性。我认为男性的刚勇几乎都是符合道德标准的，但在涉及温和亲切的问题时却不适用，因为温和亲切的人更有自制力。恶人可能凌驾于善人之上，但是战胜愤怒代表一种强大的、不可抵抗的意志力（哲学家赫拉克莱塔斯的言论产生了“一个强大的对手， 因为它以牺牲思想为代价获得它想要的一切”）——这种意志力以理性判断能力为基础，是情绪对抗中真正的力量源泉。

这就是我不断尝试掌握和读懂这种事例的原因，不管是哲学家（聪明人认为他们不容易遭嫉恨）提供的事例，还是国王或暴君提供的事例。举个例子，当安提柯一世听到士兵在他帐篷附近咒骂他时，他愤怒地扔出长矛，长矛穿透帐篷，插在地上，他说：“哎呀，你们就不能去远点的地方批评我吗？”

阿该亚人阿卡迪亚经常批评菲利普，并建议避免“去那些居民像菲利普一样无知的地方”。然后，有一天他碰巧去马其顿，菲利普的朋友心想可不能让他不吃点苦头就轻易离开。但是，菲利普对他非常友善，并赠送了他礼物。随后他告诉他的子民去了解阿卡迪亚是怎么跟希腊人说的。结果他们发现阿卡迪亚成了菲利普杰出的拥护者。菲利普告诉他们：“所以说我是一个比你们都要优秀的医生！”在奥林匹亚，曾经有一些关于菲利普的诽谤流传开来，有的人提议，既然希腊人不顾菲利普的友善还要去批判他，就应该让他们受点苦。菲利普说：“如果我不善待他们，他们又将作出什么举动？”

同样值得称赞的还有庇西特拉图对色拉希布卢斯将军的态度、波森纳对穆裘斯的态度，以及马格斯对菲利蒙的态度。菲利蒙在他们演出的一部喜剧中公然用这样的言语嘲笑马格斯：“马格斯，这里有一封国王给你的信，可是遗憾的是你看不懂，可怜的马格斯啊！”不久，菲利蒙因遭遇暴风雨被迫逃往帕拉托尼亚，落到了马格斯的手里，马格斯让他的士兵拔出剑架在菲利蒙的脖子上，然后礼貌地离开，随后马格斯就当菲利蒙是一个智障的孩子一样给了他一些骰子和弹球，然后就让他离开了。

托勒密曾经嘲笑过一名学者的无知，质问他谁是珀琉斯的父亲，这名学者回答，如果托勒密能说出拉古斯的父亲是谁，他就回答他的问题。学者的言词对出身低贱的托勒密来说是极大的嘲讽，所有人都被激怒了，认为这种言词是刺耳的、不恰当的。托勒密说：“如果一个国王受不了别人的嘲弄，那他也不应该嘲弄别人。”

亚历山大在涉及哲学家凯利斯尼兹和克里托斯的事情上比平时要严厉得多。所以当波鲁斯被亚历山大俘虏后祈求亚历山大能以一个国王应有的气度处决他时，亚历山大问，“这就足够了吗？‘以国王应有的气度’就可以包括一切了”，波鲁斯回答。这就是“仁者”是众神之王的一个称号的原因（尽管，我想，雅典人称其为“暴君”）：惩罚是悍妇或者半神半人之流的行径，而不是天神或是奥林匹斯山神的做法。

当菲利普夷平奥林索斯城时，有人说：“重建一座同样的城市并非他力所能及的”；而且，人们可能会气愤地说：“你们擅长拆除、破坏、毁灭，但是建设、保护、怜悯以及耐心需要的是亲切、宽恕和温和的情感：他们需要卡美卢斯、米特鲁斯、阿里司提戴斯还有苏格拉底，反之，瘟疫和叮咬是蚂蚁以及老鼠的行径。”

再者，当我考虑到怀恨在心这一问题时，我发现，怀恨在心基本上对于表达愤怒是不起作用的：只会因为费尽口舌、磨破嘴皮、虚张声势的攻击以及愚蠢的威胁诅咒而筋疲力尽，其结果就像孩子们赛跑时在接近胜利目标的一瞬间，失去自我控制突然减速一样荒谬可笑。罗得斯岛人在对欢呼加油大喊大叫的罗马民众表示不满时处理得很恰当，他说：“我没有被你们的喧闹所打扰，却被别人的安静打扰了”。还有一次，索福克勒斯让尼奥普托列莫斯和欧律皮洛斯装备好武器，他说：“没有自吹自擂，也没有大声叫骂，他俩捣碎了大规模古铜色的武器装备。”

关键在于，尽管有些粗鲁之人会运用一些恶毒的计谋，但是充满理性色彩的勇气根本不需要强烈的怨恨，而气愤和狂怒却是不近人情和不健康的。无论如何，斯巴达人会在有人发生打斗时吹起管乐器来平息怒火，而且在战斗前往往会祭祀缪斯以确保理性的稳定存在；如果他们彻底击败了敌人，他们不会奋起直追，而是偃旗息鼓，就像易操作的便携式小刀一样收放自如。但是，愤怒会导致很多恶果，许多人因坚持复仇而死：底比斯的赛勒斯将军和佩洛皮达斯将军就是这样两个例子。反之，好脾气的阿加索克利斯容忍了他所占领城市的居民对他的无礼和恶言冒犯。当有人问：“波特，你从哪里弄到钱来支付你的雇佣兵呢？”他大笑着回答：“瞧这儿，就在这个我夷为平地的城市。”曾经有人在城墙上嘲笑安提柯一世的独眼残疾，他却对他们说：“我认为我很好看啊”。但是当安提柯一世占领了城邦之后，他把那些嘲讽者卖为奴隶，并发誓将保持与他们主人的接触，看看他们是否还敢嘲笑他。

我还注意到，愤怒使得律师和雄辩家犯下极大的错误。亚里士多德曾写道，他在法庭上被来自萨摩斯岛上森林之神的朋友用石蜡堵住耳朵，以防被对手的辱骂激怒而把事情弄糟。而我们自己，不是经常因为仆人会害怕我们的威胁和言语恐吓而逃跑，结果对胡作非为的仆人的惩罚不了了之吗？保姆会对孩子说：“不哭就给你”。我们通常也会用同样的方法表达愤怒：“息怒，闭嘴，放轻松，你就有获得你想要的东西的可能和机会。”我的意思是说，如果一位父亲看见他的孩子试图用刀切割或雕刻东西，他把刀拿过来自己去做；如果在愤怒时用理性思维取代报复行为，那么应该受报应的人就会得到惩罚，这就使得理性思维而不是惩罚本身显得安全、健康和重要，因此在愤怒时往往需要理性思维。

所有情绪都需要通过训练对其中不理性和固执的部分进行引导、压制（可以这么说）和惩戒，但是如何对待仆人却是制怒的绝佳训练手段。问题在于我们对待仆人的时候不带有任何嫉妒、害怕或对抗情绪，因为我们有凌驾于他们之上的权力。日益增强的愤怒感会导致许多冲突和错误，就好像把自己置于一个光滑的下倾坡面上，却没有人会在前面接住你。我是说，涉及情感因素时，绝对的控制易于导致错误，唯一的解决办法是尽可能多地限制约束你的权力，当妻子或朋友指责你软弱、弱智时，要能够抵御他们经常的抱怨。

我本人过去曾因为上述指责对仆人非常苛刻，并且坚信如果不惩罚他们是对他们的一种姑息。但是我最终认识到，首先，耐心地容忍他们的恶劣行为要比专注于修正他们的行为好得多。其次，我注意到许多例子，当仆人没有受到明确的惩罚，他们会因为犯错而产生羞耻感，开始变得忍耐而不是怀恨在心。我向你保证，如果你能平和地处理仆人们的过错，而不是斥责或是鞭打，你会得到他们更热情的服务。所有这些都使我深信理智要比愤怒更具有说服力。有诗云：“有畏惧，才有敬重”，这是一种误解。实际上，还有这样一种说法：能够自我克制的畏惧感才能伴之产生敬重心。无休止的斥责不会使人对犯下的恶行后悔，反而会激起未来逃避处罚的侥幸心理。

第三，我时常提醒自己要牢记：箭术的学习是要学会如何射准，并非不射箭。同样，即使掌握合时宜的、适度的、有益的、适当的惩罚方法，仍然不会改变别人受惩罚的局面。于是，我尝试平息怒气的首要方式，不是剥夺被指控者给自己辩解的权利，而是聆听他们有什么要说。由于时间可以考验情感，为消磨情绪提供一定的空间，同时理性促使人们寻找到适宜的惩罚方式并了解其适合程度，所以，我的方法可以奏效。而且，一个人受到处罚是因为被证明有罪而不是因为愤怒，那么他是没有理由抵抗这种应得的处罚的。同时，仆人得到公平处理的案例也排除了其他不体面的因素。

亚历山大的死讯传来时，福基翁试图阻止雅典人太快起来造反，或太容易相信这个消息，他说：“雅典的子民们，如果亚历山大今天死了，那他明天或者后天是不会活过来的。”同样，在我看来，如果某人在愤怒的驱使下，选择鲁莽地走向复仇之路，他应该提醒自己：“今天犯了罪，明天或者后天还是有罪之身。有罪之人受到应得的惩罚晚了点并无害处，但如果执行惩罚过快，容易导致因罪行不确定冤枉好人的局面，而这在过去时常发生。”我的意思是，我们中有谁会因为一个奴隶烧坏了一顿佳肴或是打翻了桌子或是服从命令慢了点，而在五天或十天前就去鞭笞或是惩罚他呢？这也太令人讨厌了。但是当我们真正面对这些正在发生或是刚发生过的事情时，我们往往会变得混乱、苛刻和无情。静止的事物模糊的时候看起来会变大，愤怒同样如此。

因此，我们首先应该记住这样的事实。此外，如果在明确、稳定的理性之光照耀下，一件事物仍然看起来是糟糕的，那么毫无疑问我们可以自由地释放情绪。我们应当注意的是：不要在过后忽略或放弃惩罚，如同不要在没有食欲的时候下厨一样。当我们被愤怒充斥大脑时，最好的惩罚办法就是忽视它；当怒气烟消云散之后，不再提及这个问题。这种经历就如同懒惰的划桨者在风平浪静的时候抛锚停泊，起风的时候再冒险继续航行。面对处罚，我们总会过多地指责理性力量软弱无力，但是当愤怒呼啸而来时，我们又会不计后果地仓促应对。

关键在于，饥饿的人忙于觅食，既不饿也不渴的人忙于因果报应，这些都并无不妥。为了惩罚，他不需要愤怒，也许他需要的是一道开胃菜，他务必等待，直到远远抛开惩罚的欲望，并用理性去取而代之。阿里斯多德曾写道，在他那个年代，提伦尼亚的仆人会在风笛的伴奏下受到鞭打。但是我们不能为了图一己之快而去效仿，就如同一时受自我成就感的驱动，充满报复的渴望、享受惩罚的快感（类似动物的行径），而后又感到懊悔（像个女人一样）。相反，我们应该等到快感或悲痛了无踪迹，理性之光显现，在根本不受怒气驱动的情况下进行反击。

无论如何，显然没有治疗愤怒的良方，但是可以找到避免因愤怒而犯错的方法（如谢洛尼莫斯所说，尽管过度膨胀的发怒是发烧的征兆，但是抑制这种膨胀可以减轻发烧的症状）。我试着观察愤怒事实上是如何产生的，这时，我发现，尽管不同的人有不同的触发愤怒的原因，但是几乎每个人都认为，这种原因被轻视或者忽略。接下来，我们应当把所有惯常行为归因于无知、必需、情绪波动或偶然事件，并尽可能拉大任何特定行动与轻视或傲慢之间的距离，从而帮助那些试图避开愤怒的人。正如索福克勒斯所言：“我的主啊，不幸的人发现，即使是他们天生固有的才智也不具有稳定性，放过他们吧。”阿伽门农把他偷走女俘布里塞伊斯的罪行归因于他被魔鬼附身，还说：“我会做出补偿，给你大量礼物补偿你。”

引用这些例子的意义在于表明，如果一个人从心里藐视另一个人，那他是不会对他产生兴趣的。犯了错的人如果处于明显被羞辱的卑微状态，那他也会放弃任何藐视别人的想法。但是任何一个愤怒的人都不应该等到这些发生，而应该坚持像提奥奇尼斯一样，当有人对他说“奥奇尼斯，他们在嘲笑你”时，他回答：“我并没有感觉到被嘲笑。”所以，愤怒的时候不要去想自己是被轻视了，宁愿以自己因软弱、性急、懒惰、吝啬、年老或是年少无知而犯错为由去藐视对方。

但是，我们与仆人和朋友的关系必须完全消除这种印象，因为对我们而言，无能为力和无效的鄙夷在他们对待我们的态度上根本不起作用：假如我们公平地对待仆人，仆人会视我们是友善的；假如我们对朋友情深意切，他们也会视我们为朋友。但是，事实上，由于我们往往自认为被他人所厌恶痛恨，所以不仅对待妻子、仆人和朋友严厉苛刻，而且同样的想法往往给我们带来怒气冲天，导致与旅馆老板、船员、喝醉的赶骡人等发生冲突，或是对冲自己吠叫的狗、撞到自己的驴发脾气。我们这种行为就如同想要殴打赶驴人的人一样，一边大叫，“我是雅典人”，一边对驴说，“但是，你不是”，然后拳头如雨点般落到赶驴人身上。

如今，因关注自身利益和永不满足，再加上奢华而令人疲倦的生活方式，我们逐渐在心里积累了持久不变的怨愤，伴随着奢华与软弱，那种持续不断的愤怒感逐渐在人们的思想意识中蜂拥而生。可见，受自我适应环境的能力所限，除了拥有一份从容的快乐和简单的生活方式，再没有能促使我们善待仆人、妻子和朋友的更好的方法了。另一方面，“如果谁的食物烤焦了，煮透了，或者不够熟、熟透了或者半熟，这种不满都会导致他吹毛求疵。”如果喝不到加冰的饮料、吃不到现烤的面包、拿不到一点儿用没有花纹的陶制盘子盛的食物、不能睡在床垫上（除非它能像海浪一样鼓起来）；如果总是鞭打或殴打餐桌侍者，催促他们快点，让他们跑起来、闹哄哄的、大汗淋漓，就好像他们是在卖治疗脓肿的膏药——任何这样的人都是被一种不稳定、吹毛求疵、抱怨的生活方式所奴役，并且没有意识到他正在创造这些形成他坏脾气的原材料和土壤。所以我们必须以一种简单的方式来培养我们的性情，使我们能够自我满足，从而更容易获得快乐。因为欲望越少，失望就越少。

我们应该以食物为出发点：安静地品尝手头的食物不是什么难事，不要焦虑地来回走动或取过量的食物，这会给我们自己和朋友的食物中强加入一种令人非常不快的调味料——愤怒。如果因为某种食物烧焦了、熏黑了、盐放少了，或是面包冷了，使得侍者或是妻子受到斥责与责骂，这顿饭就不可能有一点点快乐而言。阿凯西劳斯家有一次来了一些客人，他邀请朋友们共进晚餐，但是由于仆人忘了买面包，一些客人发出的尖叫声大得足以把墙震出缝来！不过阿凯西劳斯依然微笑着说：“非常棒，有知识素养的人喜欢这种酒会！”

苏格拉底有一次从摔跤学校把尤苏戴莫斯带回家，妻子粘西比对他们大发雷霆，辱骂他们，还掀翻了桌子。尤苏戴莫斯非常难过，起身准备离开，苏格拉底说：“有天我们去你家的时候，一只母鸡飞了进来做了同样的事情，我们并没有生气啊，是不是？”

我们应该用微笑和情感友好地欢迎朋友——对仆人也不要总皱着眉头或是让他们觉得害怕和惶恐。我们还应该要求自己乐于使用任何家居用品，不要有什么特殊的偏好。有些人（听说包括马略）偏爱特殊的高脚酒杯，即使有很多别的酒杯，也拒绝用来喝酒；还有些人钟情于某一种样式的油瓶和刮身板胜过其他品种。一旦这些特殊的物品损坏或是丢失，他们会很难忍受，往往会诉诸惩罚。所以如果愤怒是你性格的弱点，最好是减少对那些诸如杯子、戒指、奇石等稀有罕见物品的偏好，因为一旦失去它们，会比失去普通、日常的物品使人不安得多。因此，当尼罗制造了一个绝顶漂亮和奢华的八角形帐篷时，塞尼加说，“你已经使自己成为了一个贫民，因为这个帐篷如果失去将无可复制、无法复原”。事实确实如此，尼罗的船沉没时，他也失去了这个帐篷，只是他记住了塞尼加的话，没有为此过于郁闷。

不去刻意追求过多世俗之事的细节，就不会小题大做，对仆人就会变得温和亲切。一个人如果能够对仆人温和亲切，显然也会对朋友和家人和蔼亲切。值得注意的是，当奴隶被卖之后，首先他会试着去了解他的新主人是否脾气很大，而不是去了解主人是否迷信或是虚荣。事实上，一旦怒火中烧，丈夫难以忍受妻子感情淡漠，妻子则难以忍受丈夫的强烈情绪，朋友也会难以忍受彼此之间的亲密，通常情况下确实如此。所以，面对愤怒，不仅婚姻，就连友情也会变得不堪一击。而一旦愤怒消散，醉酒也不会成为一种负担。除非酒神狄俄尼索斯冷酷愚蠢地将愤怒而不是欢欣喜悦注入酒精，否则他的魔杖会对任何喝醉的人施以足够的惩罚。安提库拉治愈了简单的精神错乱，但是疯狂和愤怒的结合成就了一出悲惨神话。

我们应该在快乐的时候减少愤怒，因为它会让友善变成敌意；我们应该在讨论的时候减少愤怒，因为它会使关于爱情的讨论变成争吵；我们应该在决策的时候减少愤怒，因为它会给权威增添几分傲慢；我们应该在教学的时候减少愤怒，因为它会逐渐给受教者灌输一种信任感缺失和对理性的厌恶；当我们成功时，不要有愤怒，因为它会引发嫉妒；当我们失败时，不要有愤怒，因为它容易导致和怜悯自己的人发生冲突从而损伤他人的同情心。普里阿摩斯就是这样的例子，他叫道：“滚开，你这卑鄙小人，管好你自己的事情，别来打扰我！”

反之，容易满足是一种帮助，一种点缀，或一份喜悦，其温和的特质可以克制各种愤怒和不满。以欧几里得为例。他弟弟结束争吵时说：“如果这是我能做的最后一件事，我会向你报仇。”欧几里得回答：“如果这是我能做的最后一件事，我会说服你。”这个回答迅速使弟弟改变了主意。波利门有次被一个爱好奇石、沉迷于昂贵指环的人咒骂，他未作任何回应，反而去认真研究此人的一个指环，此人很高兴，说：“波利门，如果你在阳光下而不是这里端详这个指环，将给你留下更好的印象。”

有一次，艾瑞斯迪帕斯生埃斯基涅斯的气，有人问：“埃斯基涅斯怎么了啊？艾瑞斯迪帕斯，你们的友谊呢？”他回答：“友谊睡着了，但我会叫醒它。”于是他去问埃斯基涅斯：“你是不是觉得我完全没机会、没希望了？这就是你不责备我的原因吗？”埃斯基涅斯回答他：“鉴于你在所有方面都完全胜过我，所以你是第一个知道该做什么的人，这一点儿也不令人惊讶。”

有人说，“如果一个新生儿用他的小手拍打一只长着长鬃毛的野猪，可能比任何大力士更容易把它打倒——女人也是如此。”但是，我们常常是把一些野生动物当宠物家养，一边把狼和狮子的幼崽抱在怀里，一边却在愤怒地影响下对我们的孩子、朋友和熟人表现出厌恶不喜欢；我们像野兽一样用愤怒攻击仆人和同胞，还错误地将其称为“正义的愤怒”以掩盖这种行为的实质。在我看来，这种行为和那些把精神疾病和折磨称为“先见之明”、“独立自主”或者“敬重”没什么两样：我们的行为无非都是其中之一。

芝诺曾经说过物种是从组成人的特征的所有能力中提取而成的一种合成物或混合物。与之相似的是，愤怒看起来就是许多情感的种子汇集在一起而形成。它含有从疼痛、快乐以及自负中提取的成分；有恶意的沾沾自喜，并能从仇恨中得到格斗的方法。在这种意义上，愤怒的目的不再是避免自身的痛苦，反而是在摧残他人的同时也伤害了自己；同时，愤怒的成分之一还有一种最令人讨厌的欲望的表达形式，也就是伤害他人的一种渴望。我们走近一无赖的家时，听到一个女孩在拂晓时分吹奏的笛声，映入我们眼帘的是“洒落的酒和撕碎的花环”，还有门口喝醉的仆人。可是，伤害他人的欲望是愤怒的一部分，这样的事实解释了为什么会在易怒的人脸上、在他们仆人的纹身与镣铐上看到明显的残忍的迹象。发怒的人的嚎叫、被鞭打的管家和双手被绑起来的女仆的哭泣，是房子里出现的唯一持续的声音。这一切的结果就是，对于那些能看清参透这种伤害他人的欲望以及这种伴随着疼痛的愉悦感的人而言，愤怒实在是很可怜的一件事。

不管怎么样，任何本来出于真正的、正义的愤慨而变得习惯性易怒的人，必须使自己摆脱愤怒中过分的、不可调和的部分，连同对所遇之人的自负之气。当发生误把坏人当好人、或是遭到本以为是朋友的人的斥责或批评时，这种自负便成了加剧愤怒的主要原因。就我自身情况而言，我确信你了解我是多么出于本性的倾向于认可并信任他人，但就如同迈出一步之后就再无退路一样：我越是下决心要友善，就越容易犯错误，越容易受到伤害。今后，我或许不会削减这种对朋友的情感和热忱，但是我会用柏拉图的话来提醒自己要去抑制这种自负。由于数学家希里康山本身就是一个变化无常的人，所以柏拉图对他的赞赏就是这种表达方式。他声称警惕在他所在城市长大的人是正确的，因为既然他们是人或人类的后代，就有可能在任何时候出于本能表现出内在的弱点。

然而，索福克勒斯关于“人性中大多数可鄙的方面都将在调查研究中被发现”的论断似乎过于武断并具有局限性，但是，这种断言中悲观、吹毛求疵的论调会使我们不再那么易怒，不再那么容易发生破坏性的后果。我是说，对于我们而言，这或许是一种意想不到的、难以预见的结果。我们应该借用阿那克萨戈拉格言中总结的做法（如帕奈提乌在第一点中所言）：他的儿子去世后，他说：“我知道我养育的只是一个凡人”。而且，每当我们要被别人的错误激怒时，我们应该自我批评，并告诉自己：“我知道我买的奴隶不会是绝顶聪明的”、“我理解朋友不可能是完美的”，或者“我想妻子也只是个女人而已”。如果有人不断重复柏拉图的话，“难道我不也是那样吗？”，他将会对内在想法而非外在行为进行思考，谨慎地中断抱怨，并且当他领会到自己也需要更多的宽容时，他将不再把大量义愤强加给他人。但是事实上，我们还是会愤怒、会痛斥，会听起来像阿里司提戴斯和加图一样：“不要偷东西！”“不要说谎！”“怎么这么懒散？”最可鄙的事情在于我们往往因为生气，却又在狂怒之下惩罚了他人；往往因为他人在愤怒中犯下的错误又用愤怒的方式去惩罚他。我们没有像医生一样“用良口苦药排出苦的胆汁”，而是加剧了事态的进一步恶化。

在记住上述需考虑的事情的同时，我还试着削减自己的好奇心。我是说，想知道所有事情的每一个细节，想调查了解奴隶的每一项工作、朋友的每一项活动、儿子的每一项娱乐、妻子的每一句私语——这些都会导致每天一个接一个的愤怒无数次爆发，反过来这又会加剧日常生活中的不满和阴霾。尽管欧里庇得斯认为“当事态变得失去控制，上帝就会介入，只留下一些不重要的事情让人们去冒险”的观点是正确的，但我仍然认为一个明智的人不应该为不重要的事情去冒险，而是应该忽视这些不重要的事情。他应该信任自己的妻子并让她去做一些事情，应该信任仆人、信任朋友并让他们去做另外一些事情（就像统治者信任并使用监督者、会计师以及管理者一样）。而他自己，应该凭着理性，去承担一些更重要、影响更深远的事情。正如微小的笔迹也会引起关注一样，过度紧张于一些不重要的琐碎之事也会激怒、扰乱人的脾气，一旦有更重要的事情危在旦夕，这种养成的习惯是百害而无一利的。

因此，总而言之，我开始相信恩贝多克利的格言“奉行斋戒，远离罪恶”是至关重要和鼓舞人心的。此外，不仅由于这是适当的，且因为它们不是无关紧要的实践哲学，于是，我开始在日常生活中，以虔诚之心履行这种誓言，如通过自制表达对神的敬重。要自制一年不受到性和酒精的玷污，或是自我约束在某一段指定的时期内不撒谎，或是通过自省，保证无论是漫不经心还是在重要时刻都讲实话。

然后，我把自己的承诺和这一切相比较，发现它就如同为上帝所亲睐、如同宗教般神圣。我的承诺开始时，相当于几天不饮酒——花几天时间克制怒气，这样做就如同在奠酒仪式上我倒的是水或蜜而不是酒，然后一个月、两个月，一直坚持这样做……这样，随着自我约束时间的逐渐延长，通过用自制力关注自己的行为，要求自己保持冷静沉着——一种神圣的沉默，并且不为邪恶的语言、异常的举动和行为所玷污，我的容忍能力也不断得到增强。为了一种数量上不大、性质上令人讨厌的快乐形式，情绪往往会导致大量精神上的混乱，还会产生最可鄙的悔恨之心。众所周知，就像那些只是偶然变得善良、体谅、无恶意，却不曾真正拥有这些品质一样，这种冷静、沉稳、宽厚是毫无用处的，我想这就是（在上帝的帮助下）我的经历往往能阐明这些观点内涵所在的原因。

论知足

摘自普鲁塔克写给帕齐的信。

希望你收到此信时，一切安好。不久前，我收到你的来信，信中，你建议我为你写一些关于知足、关于《提马亚斯》中需要仔细解读的段落的一些东西。几乎在同一时间，我们的朋友厄洛斯因为收到一封来自著名的丰达努斯的信，突然发觉他必须航行去罗马；通常，丰达努斯会催促他快点去。一方面，我没有足够的时间掌握你让我写作的主题，另一方面，我不愿意厄洛斯离开这里到你那儿时，你却发现他两手空空。所以，我阅读了笔记本里那些实际上是为我自己所写的、关于知足这一主题的笔记。我认为你想从这封信中得到实际的帮助，而不是一篇构思精美的演讲稿。我为你感到高兴的是，尽管你有位高权重的朋友，尽管作为一名政治演说家，你声誉卓著，但是你不曾有过墨洛普斯的悲惨经历：就他而言，“民众的奉承使他疯狂”并产生了异常行为，但事实并非如此。不，你已经很用心关注别人常常对你说的话：“痛风不会因一双显贵的鞋子而减轻，甲沟炎不会因为昂贵的指环而缓和，偏头疼也不会因为一顶王冠而缓解”。财产、声望和政治上的权力究竟如何有助于拥有一种免受痛苦的精神和一份像池水一样平静的生活？除非对财产、声望和政治权力的占有和使用是令人愉快的，否则，如果这一切正在失去，没有人会因此而感到遗憾。在许多试图超越界限的场合，除了理性通常能迅速抑制——并且慎重行事——头脑中情绪化的、不理智的部分，还有什么能确保它不会泛滥或是不会偏离正常轨道？

色诺芬建议我们在繁荣兴旺的年代记住和感谢诸神，从而在我们有需要的时候，就可以满怀信心地向他们祈求，因为我们知道他们是仁慈和友好的。理性的论据在帮助我们抵制情绪时没有什么不同：任何人在任何意义上都应该在情绪被激起之前充分注意，为有效防御做足准备，从而获得更多的惠益。你很清楚，凶恶的狗会因为任何一种响亮的声音被彻底激怒，但它只会在熟悉的人面前平静下来；所以思想情绪在被过分刺激时也很难有效控制，除非理性论据早已存在、由来已久并且烂熟于心，激动地情绪才能得到有效抑制。

“忙于公私事务的人是不可能感到满足的”，这句话不管是谁说的，它首先使得知足成为了一件昂贵的商品，如果它的价格不变的话。这就好像他对每个病人都开了同样的处方，写着“可怜的人儿，好好躺在床上休息吧”。然而事实上，不活动的状态对治疗麻木的身体是不利的，就如同精神病学方面，懒惰、软弱或是背叛朋友、家庭和国家，同样对消除心中的焦虑和悲伤不起作用。

其次，不繁忙的人就会知足的说法也不正确。这就像是说女人因为通常只忙于家庭琐事，就会比男人更容易知足。事实上，虽然（用赫西奥德的话说）“北风不会侵袭一名年轻女子柔弱的身体”，但是悲伤、困扰和忧愁会在嫉妒、迷信、野心以及无数虚幻信仰的作用下慢慢渗入她的体内。拉厄耳忒斯花了20年时间使自己远离文明社会，“只有一位老妇人照顾他，为他做饭、端茶倒水”。但是，尽管他避开了故乡、家庭和王国，可他这种无聊慵懒的状态还是使得痛苦成了他长期的亲密伙伴。不过，绝对的不运动在有的时候也有可能诱发不满。举个例子，“珀琉斯的儿子，宙斯的后代，快步如飞的阿喀琉斯，就总是坐在他船头尖利的船上，从不去参加能给人带来荣誉的集会，也不去参加战争，只是带着一颗渴望的心静静地坐在那里为战争哭泣”。这种极度悲伤的情绪使得他告诉自己：“我坐在我的船上，对世界而言是一种没有意义的负担。”

因此，连伊壁鸠鲁也认为安定平静的生活是不可取的；他说，想要身份和名声的人应当顺应其本性，参与政治和公共生活，因为他们天生就更容易失去平衡，容易被无为的状态伤害——未能实现愿望而受到伤害。但要他向无法安定生活的人而不是向有才干的人推崇公共生活是荒谬的。满足与否的界限不在于个人活动的频繁与否，而是应该通过善恶来界定：不去做善事就和前面已经说过的犯下恶行一样让人生厌和恼火。

有些人认为，免于痛苦的状态存在于一种特别的生活方式——比如耕作、独身或是拥有王权。米南德的话对他们可以说是一种警醒：“法尼阿斯，我曾经以为富有的人因为没有外债，所以不会在夜间叹息，不会辗转反侧难以入睡，也不会发出‘我多可怜’的呻吟。我曾经以为他们能够睡一个舒适、平静的好觉。”他继续解释道，以他的经验，即使富人完全经历穷人的一切，他们也会认为，“悲伤在某种程度上与生活相关吗？它与奢侈的生活相伴而生，离不开地位声望，随着贫困老去”。

想想那些害怕航海和晕船的人吧：他们心想，如果能够用小艇代替商船，把商船用作战舰，航行会变得轻松得多；但这是行不通的，因为他们仍有晕船的心理负担和恐惧感。这就类似于变换一种生活方式，它并没有从根本上消除使人痛苦和不安的因素，它们只是一种超现实的、缺乏辨识力的行为，无法也不知道如何让人们正确利用当下的环境去行事。这些问题如风暴一般困扰着富人和穷人，使已婚和单身人士都感到烦恼。它们促使人们逃避公共生活，结果发现安静的生活令人无法忍受；它们还促使人们去追求政治上的提拔，一旦得到却又深感不幸。“无助的状态会使病人有很多怨气”：妻子惹恼他们，他们对医生抱怨，对病床不满意， “有朋友探望是麻烦事，朋友不来探望又很无礼”，伊翁如是说。但是病痛消失之后，性情就会变得混合多样，健康的来临使得所有事物都变得美好愉悦。从这个意义上说，昨天还讨厌鸡蛋、蛋糕以及全麦面包的人，今天就有可能乐意就着橄榄和芥菜籽吃粗粮面包。

理性会带来态度的转变，在任何生活方式下都会带来一种满足感。亚历山大曾经在听阿那克萨库斯关于存在无限数量的世界的讲座时流泪。他的朋友问他怎么啦，他说：“如果真的存在无限数量的世界，而我连一个都还没有掌控，难道你不认为值得流泪吗？”另一方面，克里特斯带着他的箱子和旧斗篷，像一直在度假一样把整个生命都用在讲笑话上。此外，阿伽门农曾被作为一名国王肩负的过多责任所困扰——“你会认出阿伽门农，阿特柔斯的儿子，宙斯挑选他承担恒久的艰苦工作”——但是，第欧根尼待价而沽时，他躺在地上戏弄拍卖师，并拒绝起来，还用嘲弄的语气大笑道：“想象它是一条你要卖的鱼吧！”再者，苏格拉底在狱中还一直和同伴们讨论哲学，但法厄同触到了天堂的高度却哭了，因为没有人将他父亲的马匹和战车给他。

鞋会随着脚的弧度弯曲，反过来说则不成立。同样，我们言语中蕴含的性格塑造着生命。我的意思是，了解什么是最好的生活并且选择这种生活就会感到愉悦的见解是错误的，理性的智慧才会使你拥有最好的、最快乐的生活。由此可见，我们应该净化产生满足的精神源泉。假如我们不滥用外在的物质世界，那么我们将会发现它们与我们是和谐的、一致的。“没有必要因个人处境而生气，因为它完全是无关紧要的；但是成功只会属于那些能正确对待所处环境的人。”

柏拉图把生命比作掷骰子的游戏，重要的是不仅要适当地掷得合适，还要充分利用投掷的任何结果。就我们的情况而言，我们无法控制骰子的投掷也许没错，但是如果我们是明智的，合理利用所有交易的财富，并且在每个情况发生时把财富分配到相应的地方，如果分配得当，我们就可以实现利益最大化，如果这种分配不受欢迎，我们也能把损害降到最小。身体疾病会使人既无法耐寒也无法受热，那些浑浑噩噩度过一生的人也如此。在某种意义上，他们在运气好的时候狂喜，运气不好的时候悲伤，也就等于说好运和厄运都会使他们打破平衡。更确切地说，不管当他们遭遇到了好运或是厄运，都会失去自我平衡；当他们遇到任何一件可能称为好的事情也会发生同样的故事。无神论者提奥多鲁斯常说，他用右手发讲稿，但是听众却用左手接住讲稿；一个未受过教育的人，面临一个适当的、顺手的机会时，往往只能笨拙地或是用左手去抓，看起来就像个傻子。麝香草，一种最辛辣最干燥的植物，能给蜜蜂提供蜜；同样，聪明人总能从最严峻险恶的处境中找到最合适、对自己最有用的事情。

那么，应该实施和追求的首要事情是用石头击中了后母而未击中狗的人所表现出来的态度：“那也不是一件坏事！”他说。改变机遇是可能的，所以机遇不再不受欢迎。第欧根尼被流放，“也不是一件坏事”，因为他从此开始研究哲学。基提翁的芝诺从商船队仅仅留下了一艘船，但当他获悉就连这一艘也失去了、所有货物都沉没了的时候，他说：“感谢命运，驱使我穿上了一个褴褛的斗篷。”

为何我们不能以同样的方式行事？你没有得到你所追求的公共职务吗？那你可以住在乡下专注于自己的小买卖了。你向有权的人讨欢心被拒绝了吗？那你现在可以拥有没有危险和麻烦的生活了啊。你又一次开始热衷于世间的事务和烦扰了吗？呃，用品达的话来说：名望和尊重与权力关联时，如何使“工作变得舒心愉快，使劳动不再辛苦”，与之相比，“温水让身体放松的程度就不那么重要了。”当谎言和恶意中伤弥漫在你周围，你是否面临痛苦和侮辱？如同柏拉图受友情的驱使为狄俄尼索斯效力一样，这场随之而来的暴风也会把你吹向缪斯女神和研究院。

接下来有关知足的另一重要方面是对名人的思考。他们是如何做到完全不受所处环境的影响的呢？比如，没有孩子是你面临的问题吗？看看罗马的君王，没有一个人有儿子能继承他们的王位。你在为当下的贫困而负担沉重吗？那么你宁愿成为愚笨的皮奥夏人而不是伊巴密浓达一样的将军吗？宁愿成为任何一个罗马人而不是法布里希奥斯吗？“可是我的妻子被人勾引了！”那么，你难道没有读过特尔斐的铭文吗：“为水和土的主——埃杰斯所立”。难道你没听说他的妻子泰密娅同亚西比德私通，并且压低声音对女佣说她常常称她的孩子为亚西比德吗？但是这一切仍然没有阻碍埃杰斯成为他那个时代最著名最重要的希腊人。再举个例子，斯提尔波女儿的放荡影响了他拥有一份比任何同辈哲学家更悠闲的生活吗？事实上，当梅特克勒斯告诉斯提尔波他女儿的所作所为时，斯提尔波说：“这是我的过错还是她的过错呢？”梅特克勒斯说：“是她的过错，却是你的不幸。”“你的意思是？”斯提尔波问。 梅特克勒斯回答：“一个过错难道不是一种错误吗？当然是。”“难道任何一个犯了错误的人都会遭遇到挫折？”斯提尔波继续问。梅特克勒斯表示同意。“那么难道任何一个遭到挫折的人都会感到不幸吗？”斯提尔波最后说。这种冷静、哲学式的辩论表明，愤世嫉俗的中伤只是虚张声势的吠叫声而已。

尽管如此，大部分人仍然会被敌人以及朋友或亲人的错误伤害或激怒。我的意思是，傲慢、易怒、恶意、怨恨、妒忌和充满敌意的人本身不仅饱受折磨，而且会干扰或惹怒那些缺乏理智的人——无疑，邻居的急性子、熟人的坏脾气、公共管理者的不公正也是如此。我想你也不会因这些缺点免受苦恼。就像索福克勒斯的医生用“苦药冲洗排掉苦胆汁”一样，你会用愤怒和痛苦对这种情绪作出反应。但是这是不理智的。因为你受托和从事的公共事务由那些性格不够坦率、脾气不够好的人管理，就像外表精美的工具反而容易有锯齿形缺口或者弯曲。因此，无论如何你也不应该把它看成是一件容易的事，要想到理清这些事务是你分内之事。不管怎样，如果你像医生将拔牙器和手术钳用于合适的场合——当情况允许时展现你宽容和谦虚的自我，那么你会为自己的态度产生一种愉悦感，并将战胜因别人不令人满意和不公正行为而产生的痛苦情绪；你将把它们视为（狗的吠叫）一样的自然现象；不再让别人的错误不自觉地影响到自己，而是让所有这些痛苦和烦恼慢慢消失在你性格弱点的低洼地带。

有些哲学家甚至是带着怜悯之心吹毛求疵。对一些运气不好的人，认为帮助其所遇到的人是对的，而分担他们的忧虑或是屈服于烦恼是不对的。更重要的是，当我们意识到自己的缺点和不完美时，他们也不允许我们不满或沮丧，反而告诉我们不要悲伤，而应该试着解决问题，这才是正确而恰当的。然后，你应该考虑到，因为与我们有关联的每个人、我们遇到的每个过客并不都是公正和善的，我们就去纵容自己发脾气和易怒，这是多么地不合逻辑啊。

不，我亲爱的帕齐，我们谴责和担心所遇到的人的不公正行为只会在某种程度上、而不是在通常意义上影响到我们，你必须确定这不是自欺欺人——换言之，你必须确定我们不是受私心所驱使，而是出于对不良行为的憎恶。关键在于，如果我们过度地被公共生活所困扰，有一种莫须有的冲动和目标，或者存在毫无理由的厌恶和排斥，那么，这会使得我们对他人失去信任感并因此而感到愤怒，因为我们会认为是他们给我们造成损失和意外。高度的满足感和冷静的心态是那些能够不焦躁、不烦恼地应对处理公共生活的人们所具备的一种特质。

记住这一点，现在让我们回到环境这一问题。当我们发烧了，任何事物尝起来都是苦的、不合意的，但是，一旦我们看见别人对同样的食物很喜欢，我们就会停止对这些食物饮品的埋怨，开始归咎于自己的病痛。同样，如果看见别人对某种处境欣然接受而不会感到不安，我们也会停止对同样处境的抱怨，也不会满腹牢骚了。所以，当令人讨厌的情况发生时，有益于产生满足感的做法是：不要无视那些我们拥有的高兴和美好的事情，并且通过协调处理应对，使生活中的积极因素掩盖那些糟糕事情的刺眼光芒。但是，当下的情况是：尽管当我们的眼睛被过于耀眼的事物所损伤，我们会转移视线用花草的缤纷颜色来缓解；但是我们对心灵的治疗却往往大相径庭：我们竭力让它看见伤害它的方方面面，迫使它用那些令人不快的事情占据思想，几乎极端地将其与积极因素撕裂开来。但是对于喜欢搬弄是非的人，可以将问题转到这样的情境中妥善处理：“你这个不怀好意的人，为什么这么快发现别人的缺点，却忽视了自己的缺点呢？”因此，我们可以这样问：朋友，为什么你总是过度地专注于自己的缺点并时常使其更清晰、更显眼，而不去用心思考你所拥有的美好事物呢？拔火罐是把肉体里最糟糕的部分拔出来，同样，你也在吸收性格中非常不好的部分。你慢慢变得和希俄斯岛人差不多。他们常常向别人出售大量的优质葡萄酒，但自己吃饭时，总是品尝各种葡萄酒，直到他找到一种带酸味儿的酒；当有人问他的一个仆人：你的主人在干什么？仆人回答：“吹毛求疵。”

事实上，大多数人都会在生活中绕开好的、令人耳目一新的事物，直接寻找那些煞风景的、糟糕的部分。但是亚里斯提卜却不一样：他善于放松心情，（想象自己处在一个天平上）让自己翘起来，朝自己好的方面发展。无论如何，他曾经失去过一处好房产，很多人毫无诚意地向他表示难过和同情。他问其中一个人：“你不是只有一小块土地吗？而我仍然还有三处农场。”那个家伙说“是的”。亚里斯提卜说：“那么，难道不是我应该向你表示遗憾吗？为什么倒过来了？”这个事情的关键点在于，不为所拥有的感到开心而为失去的感到烦恼是很愚蠢的；否则，我们的行径就如同小孩子因失去众多玩具中的一个而大哭、尖叫并且扔掉其余的所有玩具一样。同理，如果我们被命运击痛一次，我们的不满和怨气就会使我们失去其他一切有益于我们的事物。

有人也许会问：“但是说来什么是我们拥有的或是未拥有的呢？”名声、财产、婚姻、好友——这些是人们所拥有的东西。当塔尔苏斯的安提帕特快要死的时候，他累加了一生中所发生的所有好事情，其中甚至还包括从西里西亚到雅典的一次简单旅行。而且，我们不可忽视和他人共同分享的所有事情，好好重视它们，要感恩于我们可以拥有生命和健康；感恩于可以漫步在这个世界；感恩于无论是国内还是国外都没有战争；感恩于不管是选择耕田还是航海旅行都无所惧怕；感恩于从演讲和政治到平静、怠惰的生活都能最大可能地向我们开放。如果假想我们不曾拥有这些，并且经常自我提醒病人多么渴望健康、战乱中的人们多么渴望和平、一个生活在大城市的不起眼的陌生人多么渴望获得名声和朋友，还提醒自己失去曾经拥有的一切是多么的痛苦，那么我们的满足感会不断增强。如果我们这样做，一旦失去曾经拥有的事情，才会高度重视和评价它们；只要还曾拥有，我们往往完全忽视。我的意思是说，事实上我们不拥有某事并不能增加其价值；所以不要迫切求取，不要害怕失去而常常颤抖流泪，仿佛这些事物非常重要似的；而是应该不理会或是忽视它们，当拥有了，也视它们犹如毫无价值。相反，如果拥有了它们，应该首先尽情享用并从中获益，这样，一旦失去，我们就能很镇定平静地接受。阿凯西劳斯常常指出，尽管大部分人都认为用头脑去探索，用眼睛去审视他人的诗歌、绘画、雕塑的每个微小细节是一种责任，但是他们忘了，他们自己的生活能提供大量使人愉悦的方方面面：他们只是不断地关注别人，对别人的地位和财富留下印象，就如同奸夫都是被别人的妻子所吸引，却轻视和贬低自己及自己所拥有的东西。

然而，对于满足而言，另一个重要的方面就是尽最大可能限制对自己或是与自己相关的事情的审视，抑或，认为他人并不比自己富有。应该避免的是一味向富人看齐，尽管这是我们惯常的做法：例如，犯人羡慕已经被释放的人，被释放了的人羡慕一直自由的人，一直自由的人又会羡慕有公民身份的人，有公民身份的人反过来又会羡慕有钱人，有钱人又羡慕地方官员，官员羡慕统治者——因为统治者大多渴望能够呼风唤雨——统治者羡慕上帝。结果，由于他们永远得不到那些无法企及的事情，所以对身边的任何事情也都失去了感恩之心。“我对黄金满载的古阿斯的财富没什么兴趣，我从不会被嫉妒心所控制，不会去试图模仿众神，也不会渴望拥有一个王国，我不会把目光投向如此飘渺的风景。”

也许有人会说：“因为这是萨索斯岛人的言论”，可是，还有一些外地人——如来自希俄斯岛、加纳提亚或比提尼亚的人，他们为在同胞中获取一部分地位或权力感到并不满足。他们因为没有穿上贵族的袍服而哭泣；如果成为了贵族，会因为没有掌握对罗马的军事控制权而哭泣；如果掌握了军事控制权，又会因为他们不是执政官而哭泣；如果成为了执政官，还会因为没有在宣告时名列第一而哭泣。这些借口对财富的获得是徒劳的，所以只能说这一切是一种自我苦修或者是自作自受的一种惩罚。另一方面，任何心智健全的人都能发现，太阳看到无数成千上万的人“享受着在广阔土地上的劳作”而没有陷入沮丧和失望，即使有人比他们更加出名和富有。有如此多的人的生命要比成千上万的人更加完美，所以他们继续走自己的路，欢庆自己拥有的命运和生活。

奥运会上不可能选择对手并以此获取胜利，但是生命中确实会出现感受更好生活状况的机会——被羡慕而不是羡慕别人，当然，除非是百手巨人布里亚柔斯或者大力英雄赫拉克勒斯和自己互斗！所以，当你发现自己被一个坐在轿车里忘我入神的人表现出的明显优越感吓住时，务必要俯视他和那些带他离开的人们；当你发现自己妒忌薛西斯，就像赫勒斯庞特人那样，在薛西斯的浮桥横跨的著名地点，确信你也看到了他被鞭子驱逐着去挖掘阿托斯圣山，以及当桥被波涛冲毁时一派支离破碎的景象；所以，如果你也能考虑到他们的想法，你会发现他们也在羡慕你的生活和处境。

苏格拉底曾听说一个朋友评论雅典物价昂贵：“希俄斯人的葡萄酒需要一迈纳，三迈纳才能买一件紫色的长袍，一科梯勒蜂蜜需要五德拉克马。”苏格拉底拉住这个朋友给他拿出一些谷粒，并告诉他：“在雅典，一欧宝可以买半hekteus——便宜”；又拿出一些橄榄：“两个青铜币可以买一公升——便宜”；又拿出一些简易斗篷：“十德拉克马可以买到——雅典的东西便宜。”所以当我们听到有人评论目前的个人处境很微不足道并且非常痛苦时，因为自己既不是执政官也不是总督，我们可以回答：“我们的处境并不是完全不尽人意，我们的生活也是可羡慕的，因为我们不是乞丐，不是搬运工，也不是马屁精。”

尽管如此，我们还是愚蠢地习惯关注别人的生活，而不是把注意力集中在自己身上。由于人的本性中包含大量恶意嫉妒和怨恨的成分，所以结果往往是，我们对自己成功的喜悦程度要远远低于对别人成功的愤怒程度。那么，你除了必须要看到你所羡慕和嫉妒的人所具备的辉煌、优秀的特质，还必须揭开他们表面的、代表名望的绚丽面纱，走进他们的内心，你会发现他们也有大量令人讨厌的个性以及很多不愉快的事情，无论如何，皮塔克斯的所言是有教育意义的，因为他以勇气、智慧和品行享有盛名：有一次他约几个朋友一起吃饭，妻子愤怒地冲进来并掀翻了桌子，朋友们愕然，但他却说：“没有人的生命是完美的，一个人哪怕仅仅只有像我这样的烦恼，他的生命就是非常富有的。”

“这个男人在公共场合是被羡慕的对象，但是当他回家打开家门，他就处于一个令人同情的状态：他的妻子完全掌控了他，对他发号施令并且不断唠叨。他有相当多的理由悲伤痛苦，然而我却不是。”很多这类烦恼都是伴随财富、名望和王权而生，但大部分人没有注意到华丽外表下隐藏的这一切。“阿特柔斯的儿子，你是幸运的——你的出生受到了命运的亲睐，你注定会成功”：这种荣誉以武器、马匹、大规模的军队等外在财产的形式给予他，但是从矛盾的情绪化的哭喊声中，承担着这种空虚的名声——“克罗诺斯的儿子宙斯极度疯狂地完全囚禁了我”，“我真羡慕你，老人家，我羡慕任何一个可以保护自己免受盛名所累，而安全度过一生的人。”那么，这是另外一个我们应该牢记的问题，对待命运不要过多地吹毛求疵，不要因为羡慕身边熟人的品性，而贬低和轻视自己的拥有。

现在，对于知足这一问题，最大的阻碍就是无法使自己的欲望保持收放自如，就是说，在某种程度上，是收住欲望还是打开欲望更符合当下的形势所趋。但是，我们因为希望反而给了欲望太多的松弛空间，当我们失败的时候，却总是责备命运多舛或是运气不好，而没有看到自己的愚蠢。我们不要把一个用犁射击、用牛捕猎野兔的人描述为不幸，也不要认为一个无法用鱼篓或是曳网捕获鹿或野猪的人遭遇了坏运气：力图做一些根本不可能的事情是愚蠢糊涂的。事实上，主要原因是自负使他们在任何情境下都野心勃勃、求胜心切，是自负使他们贪婪地想拥有一切：他们不仅渴望富有、博学、强壮、活泼、愉悦、亲近君王和国家政要，而且为因为他们的狗、马、鹌鹑和公鸡不是最好的而感到不满。

老狄俄尼索斯对成为当时最著名的统治者并不满意，然而因为他写的诗比费罗萨努斯的糟糕，又因为他在哲学讨论中没有胜过柏拉图，他勃然大怒：把费罗萨努斯囚禁在采石场，把柏拉图遣到埃伊纳岛卖为奴隶。亚历山大则不同：当他和短跑运动员克利森比赛时，发现克利森故意放慢速度时，非常生气。阿基里斯在诗中也表达得很好：开头部分他写道，“战场上，任何一个身披盔甲的亚加亚人都不是我的对手”，接着又写道，“他们在集结装配上很擅长。”当波斯人迈加比佐斯参观阿佩利斯的画室并打算展开一场关于艺术的谈话时，阿佩利斯打断了他并让他闭嘴：“只要你保持安静就行了，因为你戴的那些金银珠宝、身着的那些紫色长袍，即使是我们这里研磨颜料的小伙子都在嘲笑你的胡说八道。”

现在，虽然人们可能认为，当他们听到斯多葛学派的哲学家描述的圣人不仅只是明智的、道德的、勇敢的，而且也是一位演说家、诗人、军事指挥官，或者拥有财富或是国王时，他们认为这是在开玩笑，但尽管如此，他们还是希望能得到所描述的这一切，如果得不到，他们会因此而烦恼。尽管不同的神掌管不同的职能：有的被称为战神，有的被称为预言之神，还有的被称为财富之神；而阿佛洛狄特被宙斯授权掌管婚姻爱情，正是因为她的领地不包括任何军事事务。

问题在于，有些追求本身便不是相辅相成的，而是背道而驰的。比如说，修辞训练和科学知识的获取需要的是自由、没有压力，但是一个人要想获得政治权力以及与国王的亲近，却不能摆脱繁忙、耗时的生活状态。还有，“喝酒吃肉会使身体变得健康强壮，却会使智力减退”；尽管对金钱的经常关注和留意有助于增加财富，但是对金钱的藐视和轻蔑却是形成一种人生观的重要来源。所以，不是所有的事情都适合所有人：你应该遵循神的旨意，要有自知之明，然后去做一些自然而然适合你的单一的事务；你还应该避免强行或是不合规律地迫使自己去羡慕那些不同的人在不同的时间所拥有的可供选择的生活方式。“马被套上马具用来运货，牛被装上犁用来耕田；海豚因航船驶过而以极快的速度猛冲；要想捕获野猪就必须先找到一条勇敢的猎狗。”

但是，有人因为不能同时成为“百兽之王”的狮子和被寡妇爱抚的小马尔济斯犬而感到悲伤难过，这真是疯狂的事情。但更疯狂是那些既想成为恩培多克勒、柏拉图或者德谟克利特去研究宇宙和万物本源，又能像欧福里翁有个富婆情人，或者像米迪厄斯能与亚历山大成为酒友对饮的人，这种人还羡慕伊斯美尼亚的富足、羡慕伊巴密浓达的优秀，如果不能成为他们，会感到生气和痛苦。我的意思是，跑步的运动员不会因为未赢得摔跤比赛而不满：他们只在自己的领域获得自豪感和满足感。正如索伦所说：“你已经占领了斯巴达，所以信守承诺。我们不会牺牲德行去换取财富，虽然目前是稳定的，但是在不同时期拥有财富的会是不同的人。”

当自然哲学家斯特拉图获知墨涅德摩斯的学生已经远远胜过他之后，他说：“你还想要什么？一定有更多的人是想用水沐浴而不是想把油倒在身体上。”亚里士多德在写给安提帕特的信中说到：“事实上，亚历山大凌驾于众人之上，并没有使他成为唯一能真实感受到自豪的人：任何认为神才是符合公认准则的人也会拥有同样多的权利。”问题在于，就像这些故事里提到的，重视自我拥有的人不会因为发现别人也同样拥有而感到烦恼。但是，目前的情况是，尽管我们不指望一棵葡萄树能结出无花果，一棵橄榄树能长出葡萄，但是如果我们无法同时兼具富豪、学者、军事指挥家、哲学家、以及善于奉承的马屁精、守财奴或是挥霍者们身上的优质特征，我们会胁迫自己，对自己不满，还会鄙视自己匮乏的生活和不完美的生命。

此外，还会有来自于自然界的明显提示。自然界会对不同的动物赋予不同的天性：它们不会都成为食肉动物、啄食种子的动物或掘食植物根茎的动物。同样，大自然也赋予人类广泛的生活方式：“放牧、耕种、狩猎或是依海生存”。那么我们应该做的就是选择适合我们特有本性的生活方式并付出努力，不去想别人的生活；换句话说，我们不要显露出任何像赫西奥德格言中所说的类似的缺点：“陶工会嫉妒陶工，建筑工也会互相嫉妒”。我的意思是，人们不会只试图同那些相同职业或是拥有同样生活方式的人竞争；有钱人会嫉妒学者，反过来有钱人又会被名人所羡慕，同时律师会羡慕雄辩者——尽管看起来很奇怪——自由的人和贵族又会万分敬仰一出成功戏剧中快乐的喜剧演员、舞蹈演员，还有那些在皇家法院工作的公务人员。这一切会使得这些人感到痛苦，并给自己带来许多烦恼。

从人与人的不同经历中显然可以发现，每个人都有使自己产生满足感或是不满足感的能力——罐子的好坏不在于是否放在“宙斯的门槛上”，而取决于你的想法。好的事情出现时，愚蠢的人往往会视而不见，因为他们心里总是想着未来；而聪明的人却会用记忆使它们保持鲜活，即使它们已不复存在。任何事物都是在最初很短暂的时期容易得到，但是转瞬即逝，愚蠢的人因此就认为这些事物与自己没什么关系或是不属于自己。有这样一副画，一个男人为了从地狱里爬出去不停地编织一条绳子，谁知绳子却让外面草地上的驴吃掉了，同样，大多数人往往会屈服于盲目的、徒劳的机会，但这只会耗尽他们的生命，不会留下任何结果，也不会有任何成功、快乐、轻松、互动和喜悦的瞬间。

这种遗忘使得人们不会将现实和过去混为一谈：它把昨天和今天区分开来，好像二者是截然不同的，同样对于今天和明天也是如此，从来不发挥记忆的作用会很快导致每个当下出现的事物变得不存在。学院派排除了这种假设的发展，它认为：理论上，生命的不断变迁会使得每个人日复一日地发生变化；与此类似，那些不用回忆保护或是恢复过往，而是任由其一天天流逝的人们，事实上也会使自我残缺不全、空虚，并对接下来的日子悬而不决，就好像去年、近期以及昨天发生的事情都与自己没有关系，或者简言之就根本没发生过一样。

所以，这是动摇满足感的又一个因素，但不如接下来我们必须考虑的这个因素重要。你知道停在镜子上的苍蝇是如何滑过光滑的镜面而附着在粗糙或有划痕的地方的；同样可以类比人类是如何掠过快乐、合适的事项，而陷入对不愉快的事情的回忆中。还有一个更好的类比是这样一个故事：在奥林索斯，有一个被称为“甲虫必死之地”的地方，甲虫飞进去后再也不可能活着出来：它们只能在里面周而复始地转圈圈直至死亡。同样，有人不会注意到这点，而是不断陷入糟糕的回忆却不愿意唤醒自己。

我们应该把思想看作一幅画，把所有的回忆看作各种颜色，从而突出那些明亮的、鲜艳的颜色，而把那些沮丧郁闷的记忆全部放在背景的阴影部分。我的意思是，阴暗的方方面面不可能完全根除或者消失：“世界是一个矛盾结合体，就像竖琴和琴弓”，人类社会没有简单纯粹的事情。音乐有低音符和高音符，语法有元音和辅音，对音乐的鉴赏能力以及文学写作能力不会是来自对某一个音符、某一个音标的厌恶和排斥，或者也不会来自另一个极端，但可以从中学会如何使用剧场去欣赏音乐，如何把各种音标巧妙地组合成优美的文字。万物都有对立面，就如同欧里庇得斯的诗句：“好和坏是不可分割的，但混合在一起使事情变得更好是可能的。”所以，继续上述比喻，面对矛盾，我们不要产生不满情绪或是放弃，而应该表现得像专业的音乐家一样：如果某个人演奏得不好，他们可以通过别的好的演奏削弱不好的影响，也可以用正确的音符掩盖错误的部分。所以，我们应该让生活充满协调的音符，实现各种因素的和谐共处。

我的意思是，米南德关于“每个人从出生的那一刻起，都会有神灵的陪伴，如同优秀的向导引领你探寻生命之谜”的说法是错误的。而恩培多克勒的观点或许是正确的，他认为每个人从出生时就开始受到两种命运之神的掌控：“地球与太阳、血腥冲突与宁静和谐、美与丑、快与慢、公平真理与黑暗质疑。”因此，既然我们承认每个人从出生起就具备了上述经历的可能，那么每个人就会天生具有矛盾性，任何人在任何意义上都会祈求更加美好，但同样也会对他人心存期待，而且从来不会采取过多的行为对待这两种对立面。所以，首先，如伊比鸠鲁所言：“对于未来，快乐的增多取决于减少对它的需求”。其次，对财富、名誉、权力、地位的享受感的增强取决于减少失去它们时的恐惧。从这个意义上说，对它们的强烈欲望会逐渐导致一旦失去时的强烈恐惧，所以把它们当作不过是风口上燃烧的蜡烛，减少或弱化对它们的兴趣吧。如果一个人理性地容许自己勇敢而不畏惧地面对命运，并认为：“命运的馈赠固然受欢迎，但即使好运逝去也不算什么太大的痛苦”，那么这种勇气和无畏会使得他完全享受目前的生活状态（因为他知道失去也并不是不可容忍的）。亚拉萨哥拉的儿子去世后，他声称：“我只不过是养育了一个凡人”，你可能不会为他说出这种话的气魄所驻足欣赏，但是也可以从他无论面对任何命运时的态度中反映出他的这种性格——“我知道我所拥有的财富是暂时的、不牢靠的”；“我知道应该把我现在的地位归功于有权力调配它们的人”；“我知道我有一个好妻子，但毕竟她只是个女人，而我的朋友才是天性多变的物种——人类中的一员，如同柏拉图所言”。

关键在于，如果发生的事情是不受欢迎的，但又是意料之中的话，没有任何余地让你认为“这不是我所想象的”、“这不是我的预期”或是“我并不希望如此”，所以不要捶胸顿足，迅速解决当下的混乱与忧愁，回到最初的状态吧。卡尔尼亚德斯经常提醒那些从事重要事务的人们，意外是痛苦和不满的终极目标。例如，想想马其顿王国比罗马王国小多少？但是当珀尔修斯失去马其顿时，不仅他自己痛苦地抱怨命运，大家也普遍认为他绝对比其他人更倒霉和不幸；但是当埃米利乌斯（他打败了珀尔修斯）放弃了对世界上差不多所有土地和海洋的控制权时，大家一致认为他是快乐的，并因此举行了盛宴和祭神仪式。有一个原因可以很好地对此做出解释：埃米利乌斯已经得到了一种地位并且知道总有一天会传给别人，但对于珀尔修斯而言，这种失去却是意料之外的。荷马有一些关于意外发生时会怎么样的好的论点：奥德修斯的狗向他摇首摆尾时他哭了，可是面对正在啜泣的妻子他却冷漠地坐了下来；原因就在于他对妻子是一种平淡的、理性的、可预见的感情，但是当他陷入其他不可预料的情境——意外的本性将会使之表现出悲伤忧郁。

笼统地说，当不愉快的事情发生时，由于其独有的特性，必然会带来烦恼和痛苦，但是，就所关注的多数这类事情而言，其实是我们自己的思想决定和引导我们去抱怨。因此，当面临后面这一类令人厌烦的事情时，有效遵循米南德的建议总是有益的：“没有什么经历是可怕的，除非你使它可怕。”他隐隐提出了这样一个问题：举个例子，如果你的父亲不是贵族，或者你的妻子有一些风流韵事，你没能赢得奖品，或者你失去了在剧院坐在前排的权力，那么除非真正影响到了你的身体和思想，否则又有什么差别呢？这些事情的发生并不会导致一个人失去良好的身体和精神状态。关于前面所提到的看起来是由其本质导致痛苦的那一类事情——比如疾病、压力、朋友或是孩子的去世——那么可以看看欧里庇得斯的著名言论：“我说‘可怜的我啊’——但是为什么呢？我只是经历了人类所应该经历的啊。”你看，没有什么理性的论据能制止情绪的低落，就像有人提醒我们：要和所有人一样，感恩这个世界，因为有些事情我们无法避免。由于生命的真实感，这种必然性只在人类的命运中存在，但是这种肉体的真实感只是人类诸多本性的一个部分，在最权威、最重要的方面，人们仍然保持坚定和无所畏惧。

当德米特里厄斯俘获墨伽拉之后，他问斯提尔波是否所有东西都被掠走了，斯提尔波回答，他没有看见任何他称为“我的”东西被带走。所以即使钱财被盗，所有东西都从我们眼前被拿走，我们仍然还拥有一些诸如“希腊人无法拿走”的东西。因此，不要全盘贬低和轻视我们身上诸如软弱、易变、对命运绝对顺从之类的本性。相反，我们知道一个人身上的缺点和不足（和对命运的依赖）只是很小的部分，我们自己掌控着好的部分，这一部分牢牢地容纳了我们所得到的最重要的惠益——正确的信仰、学到的东西和有助于养成美德的理由——永远存在，无法消除也无法被破坏。如果我们意识到这一点，就不再会害怕未来。关于命运，就像苏格拉底对陪审员所说的（尽管他表面上是对检察官说）——阿尼图斯和迈雷托能够判他死刑，但却无法真正伤害到他。

命运也许会使人面对疾病、被剥夺财富、被毁掉与他人或是与统治者之间的亲密关系，但是命运无法使一个优秀、勇敢、有着高尚思想的人变得恶劣、胆怯、卑鄙、低俗、心胸狭窄或是充满恶意，更无法使我们丧失一种永恒的人生态度，这种态度将指引着我们的人生方向，比大海航行中的舵手更重要、更有益。面对波涛汹涌的大海和狂风，舵手往往是无能为力的，他无法做到只要需要就能停泊在安全的港口，也无法自信、无所畏惧地忍耐所发生的一切：只要他不放弃，凭借他的技术，“就能通过把船的主帆正确地收至桅杆底部而逃离地狱般黑暗的海洋”，但是当波涛翻涌而来，他只能胆战心惊地坐在那里。反过来说，一个聪慧的人却可以避免产生大多数身体方面的问题：因为他的自我控制能力、有责任感的生活规则以及适度的身体锻炼都可以将疾病消除在萌芽状态；如果出现外部感染，就像暴风雨来临般，那么，如阿斯克莱庇阿德斯所言，“他收起船帆，离开航行”；如果一些意想不到的重大事件突然来袭，安全港口就在附近——他可以从船的缝隙中迅速游离。

你知道，不是对生命的渴望，而是对死亡的恐惧，会使无知者过多地依赖自己的身体并想牢牢抓住，（他想起由于奥德修斯对卡律布迪斯的害怕使他不得以抓住了一棵无花果树的故事），“当暴风来袭，既无法停泊也不能继续航行时”，他对其中一个选项不满意，对另一个选项又心存恐惧。但是，任何一个人如果开始了解思想的本质，不管是以何种方式，并且领会到面对死亡，思想上所经历的变化或者是为了向更好的方向发展，或者至少不会变得更糟糕，那么他就不再会害怕死亡，而是做好充分的准备知足地去面对生活。但凡不仅能享受到志趣相投的愉悦这种人生最高境界，而且还能在面对一些过多的讨厌之事和与其本性格格不入之人时，做到毫不畏惧地离开，并认为“上帝会宽恕我对它们宽恕”的这种人，决不会为生活中任何事情而烦恼、生气，或被打倒。

不管是谁说：“命运啊，我已经先发制人地与你抗争，并且已经消除了你的所有漏洞”，他的这种自信并不是建立在螺栓、锁以及坚固防御的基础上，而是一种可以对任何需要之人行之有效的信念。这种信念不应该引起任何程度的放弃或怀疑，而是应该带来赞赏、效仿、热忱，以及对微不足道小事的调查研究和自我检视，从而为更重要的事情做好准备，如此一来，对这一切人们无法避开、转移注意力，或是以“这可能是我所遇到的最难的事情”为由逃避。至于如果思想上自我放任，或是总以最简单轻松的路线运行，并且逃避一些令人讨厌的事情，只是夸大其中的快乐，那么结果会造就一种缺失进取心的软弱无能的现象。但是，如果只是训练思维并竭力将其用来合理地设想自己生病、疼痛，或者被流放的情境，就会发现，在这些明显的问题和恐怖的事情中，每一件都提供了许多不现实性、表面性和不可靠性，有详细的合理的论据可以证明这一点。

然而，即使号称“任何人不可能活着说‘这将不会发生在我身上’”的米南德航线让很多人不寒而栗；但这只是因为他们没有意识到可以通过有效的训练增强张大眼睛直视命运的能力，从而能避免一定程度上的痛苦；而且他们也不会形成“那里风平浪静”的自我暗示，就像那些享受不到阳光，只是在众多希望中成长的人，面对任何困难时，常常会选择放弃并且不具备任何抵抗能力。不过，我们也可以像米南德那样说同样的话：“任何人不可能活着说‘这将不会发生在我身上’”——但是要补充一句，任何仍然活着的人说“我决不会说谎、不会欺骗、不会偷窃、不会耍阴谋”，这是完全可能的。因为这信手就可拈来，完全由我们操控，而且，它对是否知足这一问题的贡献也不是微不足道的，而是巨大的。因为这种“使我意识到自己犯下的错误”的选择给思想打下了懊悔的烙印，将会像身上的伤口一样不断地渗透并刺痛心灵。

你知道，尽管通过理性可以消除所有不快，但是当良知刺痛心灵，或是内心受到良心的谴责，理性自身就会产生悔恨。因为寒冷而颤抖或是因为感冒而发热要比受外部冷热环境的影响所产生的同样感觉痛苦糟糕得多。同样，忍受随机偶发事件所引发的痛苦也要容易得多，因为这种痛苦源自外部环境；但是，如果为犯下的错误而悔恨——“发生这样的事情不能怪别人，是我自己的错”，由于这是一种源于内心、源于自己的感受，所产生的羞愧感带来的疼痛就会让人难以忍受。这就是为什么一幢豪宅、大量财富、优越的出身，以及高职位、好口才都不可能增加生命的美好程度的原因。平静的生活只会源于未曾被坏行为、坏动机所玷污的心灵，也正是这种心灵赋予了生命宁静、清澈的特性。这样的特征是获得完美成就的源泉，它不仅使当下的活动生机勃勃、令人愉悦，带来自豪感，而且还能使过去的记忆比未来更加有意义、有安全感，如品达的诗句所述：“晚年依然记忆犹新”。卡尔尼亚德斯说过：“即使香炉被清理干净，但它释放的香味依然会维持很长时间。”这不正说明美好的行为留给聪慧心灵的印象依然是愉悦清新的吗？并且，由于快乐得到灌溉而茁壮成长，你就能够不受那些悲叹、抱怨生活、把生命当做放逐灵魂的世俗之地的人们的影响。

我很喜欢第欧根尼的妙言：曾经有一次他去斯巴达参观时，看见主人热忱积极地为节日做准备，于是他说，“把每一天都当成节日一样难道不是一个好男人的标志吗？”如果我们能正确看待事物，每一天不也都是一个特别光荣的节日吗？世界是一座最高神灵的庙宇，没有什么地方比这里更适合于神灵。人们以出生的方式被带到这个世界，不用去考虑那些既有的、静止的景象，而要去观察柏拉图所描述的那些可以感知的明白易懂的事物，这些神圣的事物表现为一种容器，容纳了生命的内在法则和万物之运动——太阳、月亮、星星、不断流出再生水源的河流，以及为动植物提供营养的土壤。生命是探究这些事物的开始，再没有比生命更完美的方式能够纪念这些事物了；因此，生活应该充溢着满足与快乐，我们不要再犯那些通常易犯的错误，不要等到类似克罗诺斯、宙斯、雅典娜的纪念日那样的重大日子才去享受快乐，也不要只在通过给小丑或是舞者付费这种买来的娱乐中才能振奋起精神、活力四射。

此外，尽管在下列场合我们会井然有序地静静地坐下——当他加入时没有人抱怨、观看达尔菲游戏时没有人嘀咕、在克罗诺斯的纪念日也不会有人喝酒，但是，在上帝安排和指引的节日里，人们还是会因为把其余时间消耗在了对生活的抱怨、丧气和担忧中而感到羞愧。尽管人们喜欢欣赏乐器演奏出的美妙音乐和鸟儿的动人歌声，喜欢观看动物的嬉闹玩耍，而且当动物发出怒吼声、狂吠声或是看起来有攻击性的时候又会心生害怕和忐忑不安，但是，当人们发现自己的生活很古板、压抑，还会时常受到令人不悦的各种经历、事件或者焦虑的约束和限制时，他们也不愿意寻找一些方式让自己恢复或是放松。而即使当他人试图提供帮助，比如帮助他们如何做到毫无瑕疵地面对当下的处境，帮助他们回忆过往免于承担忘恩负义之恶名，或是帮助他们无忧无虑、乐观积极地拥抱未来，他们也会拒绝所有这些建议和帮助。

Plutarch

In Consolation to his Wife

TRANSLATED BY ROBIN WATERFIELD

PENGUIN BOOKS—GREAT IDEAS

Contents

In consolation to his wife

On being aware of moral progress

On the avoidance of anger

On contentment

返回分册总目录

In consolation to his wife

FROM PLUTARCH TO HIS WIFE. I hope this finds you well. The man you sent to give me the news of our child's death seems to have missed me during his overland journey to Athens, but I heard about it from my granddaughter when I got to Tanagra. I imagine that the burial rites are over by now, and I hope they were conducted in a way that makes the chance of your feeling distress at the burial both now and in the future as remote as possible. But if there is something you haven't yet done, even though you want to, because you are waiting to hear what I intend to do, and it is something which you think would make things easier to bear, then it will happen too, with no fuss and superstitious nonsense - not that you are at all liable to these faults.

All I ask, my dear, is that while reacting emotionally you make sure that both of us - me as well as you - remain in a stable state. I mean, the actual event is a known quantity and I can keep it within limits, but if I find your distress excessive, this will discompose me more than what has happened. Nevertheless, I was not born 'from oak or rock', as you yourself know, given that you have been my partner in bringing up so many children - all brought up with no one else's help in our own home - and I know how overjoyed you were with the birth, after four sons, of the daughter you longed for and with the fact that it gave me the opportunity to name her after you. In addition, one's love for children of that age is peculiarly acute, since the pleasure it affords is absolutely unsullied and untainted by any element of anger and criticism. Also, she was inherently wonderfully easy to please and undemanding, and the way she repaid affection with affection and was so charming was not only delightful, but also made one realize how unselfish she was. She used to encourage her wet-nurse to offer and present her breast not only to other babies, but also to her favourite playthings and toys: she was unselfishly trying to share the good things she had and the things she most enjoyed with her favourites, as if they were guests at her very own table.

However, my dear, I fail to see any reason why, when this and similar behaviour pleased us during her life, it should upset and trouble us when we recall it now. I worry about the alternative, however - that we might consign the memory of her to oblivion along with our distress. This would be to act like Clymene, who said, 'I hate the curved cornel bow! I wish there were no gymnasia!': she was always nervous about recalling her son, and avoided doing so, because distress was its companion, and it is natural to avoid anything painful. No, our daughter was the sweetest thing in the world to hug and watch and listen to, and by the same token she must remain and live on in our thoughts, and bring not just more, but a great deal more pleasure than distress - if it is plausible to expect that the arguments we have often deployed on others will help us in our hour of need - and we must not slump in dejection or shut ourselves away and so pay for those pleasures with distress that vastly outweighs it.

People who were with you also tell me, with some surprise, that you haven't adopted mourning clothes, that you didn't make yourself or your maids follow any ugly or harrowing practices and that the paraphernalia of an expensive celebration was absent from the funeral - that instead everything was conducted with discretion and in silence, and with only the essential accoutrements. It was no surprise to me, however, that you who never tricked yourself out for the theatre or a public procession, and never saw any point in extravagance even where your pleasures were concerned, maintained unaffectedness and frugality in sad circumstances.

The point is that Bacchic rites are not the only circumstances which require a decent woman to remain uncorrupted: she should equally assume that the instability and emotional disturbance which grief entails call for self-control, which is not, as is popularly supposed, the enemy of affection and love, but of mental indulgence. Affection is what we gratify by missing, valuing and remembering the dead, but the insatiable desire for grief - a desire which makes us wail and howl - is just as contemptible as hedonistic indulgence, despite the notion that it is forgivable because, although it may be contemptible, it is accompanied not by any pleasure gained from the desire, but rather by distress and pain. Could there be anything more absurd than banishing excesses of laughter and mirth, and yet allowing the floodgates of tears and lamentation, which spring from the same source as merriment, to open to their fullest extent? Or - as some husbands do - quarrelling with their wives about extravagant hair perfume and gaudy clothing, and yet submitting when they cut off their hair in mourning, dye their clothes black and adopt ugly postures when sitting and uncomfortable ones when reclining at table? Or - and this is the most irritating of all - resisting and restraining their wives if they punish their servants of either sex excessively and unfairly, and yet ignoring the vicious, harsh punishments they inflict upon themselves when they are under the influence of emotion and misfortunes which actually call for a relaxed and charitable attitude?

Our relationship, however, my dear, is such that there never has been any occasion for us to quarrel on the one score, and there never will be any occasion for us to quarrel on the other, I am sure. On the one hand, every philosopher who has spent time with us and got to know us has been impressed with the inextravagance of your clothing and make-up, and with the modesty of your lifestyle, and every one of our fellow citizens has witnessed your unaffectedness during rituals and sacrifices and at the theatre. On the other hand, you have already demonstrated in the past that you can remain stable under these circumstances, when you lost your eldest child and again when our lovely Charon left us before his time. I remember that I brought visitors with me on my journey from the coast at the news of the child's death, and that they and everyone else gathered in our house. As they subsequently told others as well, when they saw how calm and peaceful it was, they thought that nothing terrible had happened and that a baseless rumour had got out, because you had behaved so responsibly in arranging the house at a time when disarray is normally excusable, despite the fact that you had nursed him at your own breast and had endured an operation when your nipple got inflamed, which are noble acts stemming from motherly love.

It is noticeable that most mothers take their children into their arms as if they were playthings (after others have cleaned them and smartened them up), and then, if the children die, these mothers wallow in empty, indecent grief. They are not motivated by warmth of feeling, which is a reasonable and commendable emotion: their strong inclination towards shallow beliefs, plus a dash of instinctive emotion, causes outbursts of grief which are fierce, manic and unruly. Aesop was apparently aware of this: he said that when Zeus was distributing recognition among the gods, Grief asked for some as well; so Zeus allowed Grief to be acknowledged - but only by people who deliberately wanted to acknowledge it.

This is certainly what happens at the beginning: only an individual lets grief enter himself; but after a while it becomes a permanent sibling, a habitual presence, and then it doesn't leave however much one wants it to. That is why it is crucial to resist it on the threshold and not to adopt special clothing or haircuts or anything else like that, which allow it to establish a stronghold. These things challenge the mind day in and day out, make it recoil, belittle it and constrict it and imprison it, and make it unresponsive and apprehensive, as if the wearing of these clothes and the adoption of these practices out of grief cut it off from laughter and light and the sociability of the table. The consequences of this affliction are physical neglect and an aversion to oiling and bathing the body and to other aspects of the daily regimen, when exactly the opposite should happen: purely mental suffering ought to be helped by physical fitness. Mental distress abates and subsides to a great extent when it is dispersed in physical calm, as waves subside in fair weather, but if as a result of a bad regimen the body becomes sordid and foul and transmits to the mind nothing benign or beneficial, but only the harsh and unpleasant fumes of pain and distress, then even those who desire it find that recovery becomes hard to achieve. These are the kinds of disorders that take possession of the mind when it is treated so badly.

Nevertheless, I have no cause to worry about the worst and most worrying disorder which occurs in such cases - 'the invasion of malignant women', with the cries and expressions of sympathy which they use to polish and hone distress, and to prevent its being diminished either by external factors or of its own accord. For I know about the battles you recently had when you went to assist Theon's sister and defended her against the incursions of the women who came with their weeping and wailing - behaviour which is exactly the same as fighting fire with fire. I mean, when people see a friend's house on fire, then everyone contributes what he can to put it out as quickly as possible; but when that same friend's mind is on fire, they bring fuel! And although when someone has an eye infection, people don't let just anyone touch it or treat the inflammation, people who are grieving sit and let everyone who comes by prod at their running sore, so to speak, and aggravate the condition, until instead of being an insignificant itching irritation, it erupts into a seriously disagreeable affliction. Anyway, I know that you will be on your guard against this.

Please try, however, to use your mind as a vehicle for often returning to the time when this child of ours had not yet been born and we had no reason to blame fortune; and then connect that time with the present, and imagine that our circumstances are no different again. You see, my dear, we will seem to regret that our child was ever born if we find more to complain about now than in the situation before her birth. We must not erase the intervening two years from our memories, but since they brought happiness and joy, we must count them as pleasant. The good was brief, but should not therefore be regarded as a long-term bad influence; and we should not be ungrateful for what we received just because our further hopes were dashed by fortune.

The point is that a reverential attitude towards the gods and being charitable and uncomplaining with regard to fortune always yield a dividend which is both fine and enjoyable, and anyone who, in a situation like ours, makes a particular point of highlighting the memory of good things and turning his mind away from the dark and disturbing aspects of his life towards the bright and brilliant ones instead either completely extinguishes whatever it is that is causing him pain, or at least decreases and obscures it by blending it with its opposite. Perfume is always nice to smell, but it is also an antidote to unpleasant odours; likewise, bearing good things in mind serves the extra purpose of essential support, in times of trouble, for people who are not afraid to recall good times and do not critically hold fortune entirely responsible for every bad thing that happens. And that is a condition we should avoid - the syndrome of whingeing if the book of our life has a single smudge while every other page is perfectly clean. I mean, you have often been told that happiness is a consequence of correctly using the rational mind for the goal of a stable state, and that if it is a chance event which causes one to deviate, this does not constitute a major reversal and does not mean that the edifice of one's life has collapsed and been demolished.

Suppose that we too were to follow the usual practice of being guided by external circumstances, of keeping a tally of events due to fortune and of relying on any casual assessment of whether or not we are happy: even so, you should not take into consideration the current weeping and wailing of your visitors, which is trotted out on each and every occasion, prompted by pointless social customs. You would be better off bearing in mind that they continue to envy you for your children, your home and your way of life. As long as there are others who would gladly choose your fate, even including our present upset, it is awful for you, as the bearer of the fate, to complain and grumble, instead of letting the very source of your pain bring you to the realization of how much we have to be grateful for in what we still have. Otherwise, you will resemble those people who pick out Homer's headless and tapering lines, and ignore the many extensive passages of outstanding composition: if you do this, and nitpickingly whinge about the bad features of your life, and gloss over the good points in a vague and sweeping fashion, you will be behaving like those mean and avaricious people who build up a considerable hoard and don't make use of what they get, but still moan and grumble when they lose it.

If you feel sorry about our daughter dying before she was able to marry and have children, then again you can find other reasons for cheering yourself up, in that you have known and experienced both these states: I mean, they cannot simultaneously be significant and insignificant blessings, depending on whether or not one has been deprived of them! And the fact that she has gone to a place of no pain ought not to be a source of pain to us. Why should she cause us to suffer, if there is nothing that can now cause her pain? Even huge losses cease to be a source of distress when the point is reached at which the objects are no longer missed, and your Timoxena suffered only minor losses, since what she was familiar with and what she found pleasure in were not things of great importance. And as for things she was unaware of, which had never entered her mind or caught her fancy - how could she be said to have lost them?

Then there is that other idea you've come across, which is commonly accepted, that it is quite impossible for anything to harm or distress something which has been dissolved. But I know that both the doctrine we've inherited from our ancestors and the maxims of the Dionysian Mysteries (which those of us who are in the group are privy to) prevent you believing this idea. So, since the soul cannot be destroyed, you can compare what happens to it to the behaviour of caged birds: if it has made a physical body its home for an extended period of time, and has allowed a plethora of material events and long familiarity to domesticate it to this way of life, then it resumes its perch inside a body and doesn't let go or stop its involvement, through rebirth after rebirth, with worldly conditions and fortunes. If old age is the butt of calumny and slurs, you should appreciate that this is not because of wrinkles, grey hair and physical enfeeblement: no, its most cruel feature is that it makes the soul lose touch with its memories of the other world, attaches it to this one, wraps it and constricts it (since it retains the shape it gained while it was acted on by the body). On the other hand, a soul which, although captured,〈remains only a short while in a body before being released〉by the gods and departing, springs back up to its natural state as if, although it had been bent, it retained its suppleness and malleability. Just as fire is quickly rekindled again and returns to its former state if it is relit straight after being extinguished,〈but the longer the interval, the harder it is to relight, so too the most fortunate soul is the one which is able, in the poet's words,〉'to pass as swiftly as possible through Hades' portals', before a strong love of the things of this world has been engendered in it and before it has become moulded to the body by being softened and melted as if by chemicals.

Our ancient ancestral customs and rules are a better guide to the truth in these matters. People do not pour libations for their infant children when they die or perform any of the other rites that in other cases one is expected to perform for the dead, because babies have not been pervaded by earth or any earthly things. Again, people do not linger over their burial or at their grave or in laying out their bodies, because the laws regarding death at that age do not allow it, on the grounds that it is irreligious to grieve for those who have exchanged this world for a fate, and a place too, that is better and more divine. Since mistrusting these laws is more problematic than trusting them, let us make sure that our external actions conform to their injunctions, and that our internal state is even more untainted, pure and restrained than our external activity.

On being aware of moral progress

Is there any argument, Sosius Senecio, which will salvage one's sense that one is improving and approaching virtue, if in fact progress causes no relief from folly, but vice circumscribes every stage and exactly counterbalances the progress and 'drags it down as lead does a fishing-net'? Take, for example, music or literacy: there can be no recognition of improvement here either, if the lessons do nothing to whittle away one's ignorance of these subjects, and one's incompetence remains perpetually at a constant level. And if medical treatment fails to relieve a patient's discomfort or in some way alleviate the illness and cause its remission and decrease, then it cannot afford the patient any sense that his condition is changing for the better, until his body has completely recovered its strength and the treatment has engendered the opposite condition with no trace of illness at all.

In fact, however, people do not make progress in these domains unless they perceive the change, since the instrument of their progress is relief from what was weighing them down (as if they were on a balance, and were being carried upwards as opposed to their former downward movement). And likewise, in philosophy, no progress or awareness of progress can be assumed if the mind is not freeing and purifying itself of fallibility, but is involved in absolute vice right up to the moment when it secures absolute, perfect virtue. Of course, it takes only a moment, a split second, for the wise man to change from the worst possible iniquity to a state of consummate virtue! And in an instant he has totally and utterly escaped from the vice which he did not even partially eliminate over a lengthy period!

Still, I am sure you already know that the authors of these assertions turn out to find 'the wise man who is unaware' extremely awkward and problematic, thanks to their own assertions. Consider a person who has not yet grasped the fact that he has become wise, but is unaware and uncertain in this regard, because it has escaped his notice that, by a gradual and lengthy process of subtracting this and adding that, progress has taken place and has steadily led him, as if it were a road, to an appointment with virtue. But if the speed and size of the change were so great that someone who is the worst of sinners in the morning can become a perfect saint in the evening, or if change occurred in such a way that someone could go to bed worthless and wake up wise and, with his mind freed of yesterday's fallibility and liability to error, could say, 'Goodbye, false dreams; I now see that you were nothing - if all this were so, how could anyone not realize that a change of this magnitude had happened within himself and that wisdom had enlightened him all at once? I would sooner believe that someone like Caeneus, whose prayer to change sex from female to male is granted, could fail to notice the transformation, than that someone who had become controlled, wise and courageous instead of cowardly, stupid and weak-willed, and who has in an instant exchanged a life at a bestial level for one at the level of the gods, could be unaware of himself.

No, it is a correct saying that one should 'Fit the stone to the line, not the line to the stone.' But the people who refuse to fit their views to the facts, and instead force facts into unnatural conformity with their hypotheses, have infected philosophy with plenty of puzzles: the one which fits everyone, with the sole exception of the perfect man, into a single undifferentiated category of vice is only the greatest of these puzzles. This puzzle makes the term 'progress' opaque: what they call 'progress' is a state little short of sheer inanity, and a state which makes all those who have not rid themselves of every emotion and defect still just as miserably off as those who have not escaped even any of the very worst vices. Anyway, these thinkers refute themselves, because in their lectures they place Aristides on a par with Phalaris in respect of immorality, and Brasidas with Dolon in respect of cowardice, and even go so far as to claim that Plato and Meletus are utterly identical in respect of ignorance; but in their lives and actions they refrain and abstain from the behaviour of the latter set of people, which they acknowledge to be heartless, and attach themselves to and trust the former set, whose example, as they agree, is in the most important respects of great value.

We, on the other hand, can see that 'more and less' can be attributed to every kind of vice, and especially to mental vice, which is a genus comprising an indeterminate, limitless number of species; and we can see that this is also what makes different stages of progress different, as reason gradually illuminates and purifies the mind by pushing back imperfection as if it were darkness. Consequently, we do not find illogical the notion that people who are being carried upwards out of an abyss, so to speak, are aware of the change, and we think that this awareness has definite, describable principles.

Here, without further ado, is the first such principle to consider. Just as those who are running under sail in the open sea use the time along with the strength of the wind to calculate how much of their voyage they are likely to have accomplished, given that x amount of time has passed and they are being driven by y amount of power, so in philosophy one can, to satisfy oneself, take as evidence of progress the continuity and constancy of the journey, and the fact that it is rarely interrupted by pauses followed by fresh effort and impetus, but is perpetually pressing forward smoothly and evenly, and using reason to secure its passage without stumbling. The advice 'If you add even a small amount to a small amount and do this often' is valuable for more than just the accumulation of money: it is universally effective, and nowhere more so than in the development of virtue, when to reason is added plenty of habituation, which is what produces results.

Any unevenness and dullness, however, on the part of philosophers makes them not only wait and linger on the journey of progress, so to speak, but even turn back, because vice seizes every opportunity to ambush anyone who gives in and takes time off, and to carry him away in the opposite direction. Mathematicians tell us that when the planets stop moving forwards, they become stationary, but in philosophy, when progress ceases, there is no gap, no stationary mode. Since human nature is constantly in motion, it tends to tilt as if it were on a pair of scales: it is either fully extended by its better movements or, thanks to the opposite movements, it plummets towards its worse aspect. So if - as in the oracle uttered by the god which stated, 'Fight against the Cirrhaeans every day and every night' - if you are aware of having resisted vice day in and day out without stopping, or at least of having rarely let down your guard or of having only occasionally admitted into your presence certain pleasures or amusements or diversions with a view to making a deal with them, as if they were envoys from the army of vice, then you have every reason to proceed towards the future undaunted and in good heart.

Nevertheless, even if breaks occur in one's philosophical activity, if later there is more stability to it and longer stretches of time are spent on it than before, then this is a good indication that hard work and repeated effort are squeezing laziness out. The other alternative, however, is bad - when after a short while setbacks frequently and continually occur, with enthusiasm shrivelling, so to speak. A reed starts growing with a huge spurt whose result is a smooth, unbroken length, and at first it is rarely thwarted or retarded and only at long intervals; but then (as if it had difficulty breathing up there) it grows weak and consequently starts to fail and its growth is hampered by the formation of many protuberances, with little room between them, as its life-force encounters bumps and shocks. This is an analogy for what can happen in philosophy: anyone who starts with a series of energetic charges, and then continually encounters drawbacks and interruptions in large numbers, while seeing no improvement, gets fed up and gives in. 'On the other hand, he gains wings' applies to anyone who is motivated by the benefit of philosophy and who, with strength and enthusiasm generated by achievement, cuts through the excuses as if they were a crowd of nuisances.

When you are with someone you find attractive, it is not happiness that is a sign of falling in love (since this is not unique to love), but pain and distress when you are cut off from that person; and likewise, plenty of people are drawn to philosophy and apparently set about learning with a great deal of zeal, if nothing else, but if other matters or diversions drive them away, that emotion drains out of them and their mood becomes one of indifference. On the other hand, 'anyone smitten by love for his beloved' might strike you as placid and tame while you are together, sharing in philosophical discussion, but you should see him when he has been cut off and separated from philosophy: he is feverish, restless, dissatisfied with every matter and every diversion; his longing for philosophy impels him, as though he were a mindless beast, to forget his friends. The point is that what is required is not that people treat discussions as they do perfumes and enjoy them when they are there, but do not go out of their way for them, or even have a positive distaste for them, when they are not there; what is important is rather that, when one is cut off from philosophical discussions (whether it is getting married or a sea journey or forming a friendship or military service that causes the separation), one should feel something similar to hunger and thirst, and so stay in contact with the genuine cause of progress. For the greater the gain from philosophy has been, the greater the displeasure at separation.

What we have been saying is basically identical or very similar to the ancient description of progress in Hesiod - that the path ceases being steep or excessively sheer: it becomes easy, level and manageable. It is as if repeated effort levels the path, and as though the journey creates a light and a brightness in philosophy, to replace the perplexity, uncertainty and vacillation which students of philosophy come across at first, like sailors who have left the land they know, but cannot yet see the land which is their destination. For they are in the position of having left behind what is normal and familiar, but of having not yet become acquainted with and in possession of what is better: they are going round in circles in the intermediate area, and in the process often turn back towards where they have come from.

Sextius the Roman was a case in point: the story goes that on account of philosophy he had abandoned his offices and positions of authority in the political arena, but on the other hand was, while in the philosophical arena, in a bad way and was finding the subject difficult; he came very close to throwing himself off the top of a building. And there is a similar story about Diogenes of Sinope when he was embarking on his study of philosophy: it was an Athenian holiday, and they were having fun and staying awake all night, with meals laid on by the state, plays at the theatres, and parties with one another; Diogenes was curled up in a corner of the agora, trying to sleep, and he found himself thinking decidedly upsetting and self-destructive thoughts, trying to work out how, under no external compulsion, he had of his own free will taken on a gruelling and unnatural lifestyle, and was sitting there excluded from all those good things. Just then, however (as the story goes), a mouse crept up and occupied itself with the crumbs from his bread; Diogenes started to use his mind and reconsider, and said to himself, in a critical and disparaging tone, 'What are you getting at, Diogenes? Your leftovers are a feast for this mouse, yet you, a man of stature - are you complaining and moaning just because you're not lying over there on soft, gaudy blankets, getting drunk?' So when that sort of bad mood occurs only rarely, and the mind quickly steps in to cancel it out and repel it (changing defeat into victory, as it were), and has no difficulty in getting rid of the agitation and restlessness, then one ought to regard one's progress as being on a firm basis.

Their own weakness, however, is not the only factor which can make students of philosophy waver and double back. The earnest advice of friends and the mocking, bantering attacks of critics can also, on their occurrence, warp and sap resolve, and have been known to put some people off philosophy altogether. Therefore, a good indication of an individual's progress would be equanimity when faced with these factors, and not being upset or irritated by people who name his peers and tell him how they are prospering at some royal household, or are marrying into money or are going down to the agora as the people's choice for some political or forensic post. For anyone who is not dismayed or swayed in these circumstances has clearly been suitably and securely gripped by philosophy, since it is impossible to stop trying to conform to behaviour the majority of people admire unless one has become accustomed to admire virtue instead; even anger and insanity give some people the ability to stand up to others, but disdain for affairs commonly admired is impossible without a high purpose, truly and securely held.

This is also the context of the proud comparisonspeople make between the two concerns, as when Solon said, 'We will not exchange our virtue for their wealth, since the one is permanent and stable, but different people have money at different times.' And Diogenes used to compare his moves from Corinth to Athens and back again to the great king's residency at Susa in the spring, at Babylon in the winter and in Media in the summer. Then there is Agesilaus' remark about the great king: 'He is a greater man than me only if he is more moral.' And in a letter to Antipater about Alexander, Aristotle wrote that the fact that Alexander rules over a lot of people does not make him the only one who can legitimately feel proud: anyone whose thinking about the gods is correct has just as much right. And when Zeno saw that Theophrastus was admired for the number of his students, he said, 'Although his chorus is larger, mine is more harmonious.' Anyway, when the contrast between virtue and externals has enabled you to eliminate from yourself envy and jealousy of others, and all the things which commonly irritate and undermine beginners in philosophy, you can take this too as a clear indication of your progress.

Another not unimportant sign is a certain change where arguments are concerned. Almost without exception, beginners in philosophy tend to look for ways of speaking which will enhance their reputation. Some behave like birds: because they are lightweight and ambitious, they swoop down on to the brilliant heights of science. Others behave 'like puppies', as Plato says: 'they enjoy dragging things around and tearing them apart', so they head for controversies and puzzles and sophisms. A great many beginners immerse themselves in philosophical arguments and use them as ammunition in casuistry. Occasionally, beginners go around collecting quotable phrases and stories, but just as Anacharsis used to say that, in his experience, the only reason the Greeks have money is to count it, so these people - in respect of the arguments they employ - are short-changed and short-change others, and accumulate nothing else which might do them good.

The result of all this is illustrated by Antiphanes' saying, in its application to Plato's circle. Antiphanes used to tell an amusing story about a city where, as soon as anyone spoke, the sound of his voice was frozen solid, and then later, when it thawed out in the summer, they heard what had been said in the winter; likewise, he added, what Plato said to people when they were still young only just got through to most of them much later, when they were old. People also have this experience when faced with philosophy in any form, and it stops only when their discrimination becomes sound and steady, and begins to encounter the factors which instil moral character and stature, and starts to seek out arguments whose tracks (to borrow Aesop's image) tend inwards rather than outwards. Sophocles used to say that he first lightened Aeschylus' heaviness, then the austerity and affectedness of his own style, and only then did he, as a third step, try to change the actual nature of the language, which has the most bearing on morality and virtue; this is an analogy for the fact that it is only when students of philosophy stop using arguments for display and affectedness and turn to the kinds of argument which have an impact on the character and the emotions that they begin to make genuine, unassuming progress.

In the first place, then, you must make sure that when you are reading philosophical works and listening to philosophical lectures, you do not concentrate on the phraseology and exclude the subject-matter, and that you do not pounce on awkward, odd phrases rather than those which are useful, meaty and beneficial. Secondly, you must be careful, when you spend time on poetry and history, in case you overlook any well-expressed point which might improve your character or ease the weight of your emotions. For just as a bee spends time with flowers, as Simonides says, 'intent on yellow honey', whereas everyone else appreciates and takes in no more of the flower than its colour and scent, so, although everyone else's involvement with poetry has the limited aim of pleasure and fun, nevertheless if someone by his own resources discovers and gathers from it something worth taking seriously, then it is by this token plausible to suggest that his training and love for what is good and congruent with his nature have brought him to the point of recognizing what is good and congruent.

There are people, for example, whose concern with Plato and Xenophon is limited to their language, and who glean no more than their pure Attic diction (which is, as it were, the dew and down on the flower). The only comment one can make about such people is that they appreciate the nice, flowery smell of medicines, but fail to ingest, or even recognize, their analgesic and purgative properties. By contrast, those whose progress is ongoing are capable of benefiting, and of gathering what is congruent and useful, not just from the written or spoken word, but from any sight and any situation at all.

Anecdotes about Aeschylus and others of similar stature illustrate the point. For instance, Aeschylus was watching a boxing-match at the Isthmian games, and whenever either of the boxers was struck, the audience yelled out loud; Aeschylus nudged Ion of Chios and said, 'Do you see what practice can do? The man who has been struck remains quiet - it is the spectators who cry out!' Brasidas once picked up some dried figs which had a mouse among them; the mouse nipped him and he dropped it: 'Incredible!' he remarked. 'No matter how small or weak a creature is, it will live if it has the courage to defend itself.' When Diogenes saw someone using his hands to drink, he took his cup out of his bag and threw it away.

These stories illustrate how attention and repeated intense effort enable people to notice and absorb the implicit virtue in everything. This is more likely to happen if they supplement theory with practice - not just 'by studying in the school of danger', as Thucydides puts it, but also by giving themselves a practical demonstration of their views - or preferably, forming their views by experience - whenever they are faced with pleasure and argumentativeness, or involved in decision-making, advocacy in court and political authority. As for those who, even while they are still students, occupy themselves with considering what they can take from philosophy and recycle without delay in the political arena, or to entertain their young friends, or at a reception given by the king, they are no more entitled to be regarded as philosophers than sellers of medicines are entitled to be regarded as doctors; or perhaps a better description is to say that a sophist of this kind is basically altogether identical to Homer's bird, because he regurgitates for his pupils, as if they were his 'flightless chicks', anything he takes in, 'and fares badly himself', if he fails to consider his own advantage and to absorb or digest anything he takes in.

It is therefore essential for us to make sure, first, that we approach words in a way that is beneficial to ourselves, and second, where other people are concerned, that we do so not because we want empty glory or public recognition, but rather because we want to be taught and to teach. Above all, we must make sure that, when investigating issues, there is no trace of rivalry and contentiousness, and that we have stopped supplying ourselves with arguments as if they were boxing thongs or padded gloves to be used against one another, and no longer prefer bludgeoning others to the ground to learning and teaching. Reasonableness and civility during discussions, neither embarking on conversations competitively nor ending them in anger, neither crowing if an argument is won nor sulking if it is lost - all this is the behaviour of someone who is progressing nicely. Aristippus gives us an example: once he was outmanoeuvred in an argument by a man who did not lack self-confidence, only intelligence and sense; Aristippus saw that the man was delighted and had got big-headed, so he said, 'I am going home now: I may have been argued down by you, but I will sleep more peacefully tonight than you, for all your success.'

When we speak, we can also assess ourselves by seeing whether or not we get afraid and hold back if a large crowd unexpectedly gathers round us, whether or not we get depressed if there are only a few to hear us debate, and whether or not, if called upon to address the Assembly or a person in authority, we throw the opportunity away by being inadequately prepared with respect to what language to use. This latter point is illustrated by stories about Demosthenes and Alcibiades. Alcibiades was extremely adept at knowing what topics to address, but less confident about what language to use and, as a result, used to trip himself up while he was addressing topics; often, even in the middle of speaking, he used to search for and hunt after an elusive word or phrase, and so get booed. By contrast, Homer was not bothered about publishing an unmetrical first line: his talent gave him plenty of self-assurance about the rest of the poem. It is therefore fairly reasonable to suppose that those who are striving for virtue and goodness will make good use of the opportunity and the topic, by being completely indifferent to any tumultuous, noisy response to their language.

The same applies to actions as well as to words: everyone should try to ensure that they contain more usefulness than showmanship, and are more concerned with truth than with display. If genuine love for a young man or for a woman does not seek witnesses, but reaps its harvest of pleasure even if it fulfils its desire in secret, then it is even more likely that someone who loves goodness and wisdom, who is intimate and involved with virtue because of his actions, will be quietly self-assured within himself, and will have no need of an admiring audience. There was a man who summoned his serving-woman at home and shouted out, 'Look at me, Dionysia: I have stopped being big-headed!' Analogous to this is the behaviour of someone who politely does a favour and then runs around telling everyone about it: it is obvious that he is still dependent on external appreciation and drawn towards public recognition, that he does not yet have virtue in his sights and that he is not awake, but is acting randomly among the illusory shadows of a dream and then presents his action for viewing, as if it were a painting.

It follows that giving something to a friend and doing a favour for an acquaintance, but not telling others about it, is a sign of progress. And voting honestly when surrounded by corruption, rejecting a dishonourable petition from an affluent or powerful person, spurning bribes and even not drinking when thirsty at night or resisting a kiss from a good-looking woman or man, as Agesilaus did - quietly keeping any of these to oneself is also a sign of progress. A man like this gains recognition from himself, and he feels not contempt, but pleasure and contentment at being self-sufficient as a witness, and spectator too, of his good deeds; this shows that reason is now being nourished within and is taking root inside him, and that he 'is getting used to being his own source of pleasure', as Democritus puts it.

Farmers prefer to see ears of corn bent over, nodding towards the ground; they regard as worthless impostors the light ones which stand up straight. Young would-be philosophers are just the same: it is those who are particularly insubstantial and lightweight who cut a dash, pose and strut, faces full of contempt and disdain which spare nothing and nobody; but when they start to fill out and gain in yield from the lectures, they shed their ostentatious pomposity. And just as the air inside empty vessels into which liquid is introduced is squeezed out and goes elsewhere, so when people are filled with genuinely good material, their pretensions are pushed aside and their self-esteem starts to crumble; they stop feeling proud of their beard and threadbare gown, and instead make their minds the object of their efforts; and they use the caustic, harsh side of their nature on themselves above all, and treat anyone else they come across with greater leniency. They put an end to their former habit of usurping and confiscating for themselves the name of philosophy and the reputation of studying philosophy; instead, if an innately good young man is even called 'philosopher' by someone else, he will be so dismayed that he will say with a smile, overcome by embarrassment, 'Look, I am no god. Why do you compare me to the gods?' As Aeschylus says, 'When a young woman has experienced a man, the heat in her eyes gives her away'; and when a young man has experienced genuine philosophical progress, these lines of Sappho's are relevant: 'I am tongue-tied, and delicate fire plays over my skin' - despite which, his gaze is unworried and his eye calm and you would want to hear him speak.

At the start of the initiation ceremony, as the candidates assemble, they are noisy, call out and jostle one another; but when the rituals are being performed and revealed, then they pay attention in awestruck silence. Likewise, you can see plenty of disturbance and chatter and self-assurance at the beginning of philosophy, on the threshold, with some people rudely and roughly jostling for acclamation; but anyone who finds himself inside and in the presence of a great light, with the sanctuary open, so to speak, changes his attitude and becomes quiet and transfixed, and 'with humility and restraint complies' with reason, as he would with a god. Menedemus' joke seems to apply rather neatly to such people. He said that the numerous people who sail to Athens to study go through the following progression: they start wise, then become philosophers, and as time goes on, they become normal people, by gradually laying aside their self-esteem and pretensions in proportion to the hold they have on reason.

When people need healing, if it is a tooth or a finger that is hurting, they go straight to the doctor; if they have a fever, they summon the doctor to their house and ask him to help; but if they are suffering from an extreme case - melancholy or brain fever or delirium - they sometimes cannot even stand the doctor coming to visit them, but chase him away or avoid him, because the severity of their illness prevents them even being aware that they are ill. The same goes for people with faults: it is the incurable ones who get angry and behave aggressively and fiercely towards anyone who tries to rebuke and reprimand them, whereas those who put up with rebuke and do not resist are in a more composed state. And when someone with faults puts himself in the hands of critics, talks about his defects, does not hide his iniquity and does not relish getting away with it or enjoy being unrecognized for what he is, but admits it and begs for someone to take him and reprimand him, this must be a significant sign of progress. This is surely why Diogenes used to say that anyone concerned about safety ought to try to find either a proper friend or a fervent enemy, so that one way or another - either by being rebuked or by being treated - he might steer clear of badness.

Imagine someone with an obvious stain or mark on his clothes or a torn shoe affecting self-deprecation as a pretence to the outside world, or someone thinking that by making fun of his own short stature or slumped posture he is showing a carefree spirit: as long as he does all this, but disguises the internal blemishes of his mind, the defects of his life, the pettiness, hedonism, malice and spite, and hides them away as if they were boils, without letting anyone touch them or see them because he is afraid of being rebuked, then his involvement in progress is minimal, or rather non-existent. On the other hand, anyone who comes to grips with these defects, and primarily anyone who has the ability and the desire to supply his own distress at and censure for his faults, but secondly anyone who has the ability and the desire to put himself in someone else's hands for castigation, and sticks with it, and is purified by the criticism, is precisely the person who seems to have a genuine loathing for iniquity, and to be really trying to eradicate it.

It is, of course, important to feel embarrassed at, and to avoid, even a reputation for badness; but someone who dislikes actual iniquity more than he dislikes an adverse reputation does not avoid being reproached, and reproaching others himself, if the object is moral improvement. For instance, there is Diogenes' nice remark to a young man he saw in a pub, who ran away - but into the pub: 'The further inside you run,' he said, 'the more you are going to be in the pub!' And the more a person denies any defect, the more he immerses and imprisons himself in the vice. It is obvious that anyone who is poor, but who pretends to be rich, increases his poverty by his masquerade; but Hippocrates, who wrote down and published the fact that he did not understand the skull's sutures, is a model for anyone who is genuinely progressing, because he thinks it quite wrong for Hippocrates to help others avoid the situation he found himself in by publicizing his own failing, while he - a person who is committed to immunity from error - does not dare to be castigated or to admit his fallibility and ignorance.

In fact, it is arguable that Bion's and Pyrrho's assertions refer not to progress, but to a better, more perfect state. Bion told his friends that they deserved to think they were progressing when they could listen to abuse and be affected as if what was being said was 'My friend, you don't seem bad or foolish, so I wish you health and great joy, and may the gods grant you prosperity.' And there is a story about Pyrrho that once when he was endangered by a storm at sea, he pointed to a piglet which was happily tucking into some barley that had been spilled, and told his companions that anyone who did not want to be disturbed by events should use the rational mind and philosophy to develop a similar detachment.

You should also notice what Zeno said - that a person's dreams ought to make him aware that he is progressing, if when asleep he sees himself neither enjoying anything discreditable, nor conniving at or doing anything awful or outrageous, but if instead he feels as though he were in translucent depths of tranquil stillness and it dawns upon him that the imaginative and emotional part of his mind has been dispersed by reason. Plato also apparently realized this point, before Zeno, and he described in outline the imaginative, irrational aspect of an innately tyrannical mind and the sorts of things it does when asleep: 'He tries to have sex with his mother', feels compulsions for all kinds of foods, transgresses convention and acts as though his desires, which by day are shamed and cowed into restraint by convention, had been set free.

Draught-animals which have been well trained do not attempt to stray and deviate, even if their master lets the reins go slack: they press forward in an orderly fashion, obedient to their conditioning, and unfailingly keep to their course. In the same way, people whose irrational aspect has been tamed and civilized and checked by reason find that it loses its readiness to use its desires to act outrageously and unconventionally even when dreaming or when under the influence of illness; instead, it watches protectively over its conditioning and remains aware of it, since it is conditioning which gives our attention strength and energy. If, as a result of training, detachment can gain control over even the body - over the whole body and any of its parts - so that eyes faced with a harrowing sight resist weeping and a heart surrounded by horrors resists lurching, and genitals modestly keep still and cause no trouble at all in the company of attractive men or women, then naturally this increases the plausibility of suggesting that training can take hold of the emotional part of the mind and, so to speak, smooth it and regularize it by suppressing its illusions and impressions at all levels, including dreaming.

There is a story about the philosopher Stilpo which illustrates the point. Once he dreamed he saw Poseidon and that Poseidon was angry with him for having omitted to sacrifice an ox (which was a standard offering to Poseidon), but Stilpo was not perturbed in the slightest and said, 'What do you mean, Poseidon? Don't you think it's childish of you to come and complain that I didn't bankrupt myself and fill the city with the smell of burnt offerings, but instead sacrificed to you on a moderate scale at home, drawing on what I actually had?' And then he dreamed that Poseidon smiled, extended his right hand and said that, because of Stilpo, he would create for Megara a bumper crop of sardines.

So anyway, when people have dreams which are pleasant, clear and untroubled, and sleep which brings back no trace of anything frightening or horrible, or malicious or warped, they say that these features are beams of the light of progress; but they say that the features of distressing and bizarre dreams - frenzy, agitation, running from danger like a coward, experiencing childish delights and miseries - are like breakers and billows, and originate in a mind which does not yet have its own regulator, but is still being formed by opinions and rules, so that when it is asleep and as far from these formative influences as it can be, it is again dissolved and unravelled by the emotions. Now, you must join me in considering, by yourself, whether this phenomenon I have been talking about stems from progress or from a state which already has the steady, solid strength which comes of being based on reason.

Since absolute detachment is an exalted, divine state, and progress towards it is, as I say, like a kind of alleviation and taming of the emotions, then it is important for us to examine our emotions and to assess their differences, comparing them with themselves and with one another. We must compare them with themselves to see if the desires and fears and rages we now experience are less intense than they were before, given that we are using reason rapidly to extinguish their violence and heat; and we must compare them with one another to see if our sense of disgrace is now more acute than our fear, and whether we prefer to emulate people rather than envy them, and value a good reputation more than we value money. In short, we must compare them with one another to see if, to use a musical analogy, we err on the side of the Dorian rather than the Lydian mode, whether our lifestyle inclines towards asceticism rather than indulgence, whether our actions tend to be slow rather than hasty, and whether we are astounded by rather than contemptuous of arguments and people. Where ailments are concerned, it is a good sign when the disease is diverted into parts of the body where it will not prove fatal; and likewise where vice is concerned, it is plausible to suggest that when people who are making progress find that their vices now engage more respectable emotions, those vices are gradually being eliminated. When Phrynis strung two extra strings on the lyre, in addition to the usual seven, the ephors asked him whether he was prepared to let them cut off the top two or the bottom two; but the first point to make about ourselves is that what is required is, as it were, that the top ones and the bottom ones are cut out, if we are going to settle on an intermediate, moderate position; and the second point is that progress begins with the lessening of our emotions' extremity and intensity, 'lusting after which,' as Sophocles says, 'makes one overwrought'.

Now, we have said that translating decisions into actions and not allowing words to be just words without turning them into deeds is particularly typical of progress. What is significant in this context is modelling our behaviour on what we commend and being keen to do what we express admiration for, while being unwilling even to connive at what we find fault with. For example, although it was not surprising that Miltiades' courage and bravery were universally applauded in Athens, nevertheless, when Themistocles said that Miltiades' trophy stopped him sleeping and allowed him no rest, it was immediately obvious that he was doing more than just expressing approbation and admiration: he was also moved to emulate and imitate Miltiades. So we must regard our progress as minimal as long as our admiration of success lies fallow and remains inadequate in itself to spur us towards imitation.

The point is that physical love is not a force for change unless it is accompanied by the desire to emulate; and commendation of virtue is also tepid and ineffective unless it nudges us and goads us to stop being envious and instead to want - with a desire that demands satisfaction - to emulate good behaviour. Alcibiades stressed the importance of the heart being moved by a philosopher's words and of tears being shed, but that is not all that is important: anyone who is making genuine progress compares his own conduct with the deeds and actions of a man who is an exemplar of goodness, and is simultaneously aggravated by the awareness of his defects, happy because of his hopes and aspirations, and full of a restless compulsion. Consequently, he is liable to 'run like an unweaned foal close to a horse' (to use a line from Semonides), because he longs to be virtually grafted on to the good man. In fact, this experience is typical of genuine progress - dearly to love the character of those whose conduct we desire to imitate, and always to accompany our wanting to be like them with goodwill which awards them respect and honour. On the other hand, anyone feeling competitively envious of his betters must realize that it is jealousy of a certain reputation or ability that is provoking him, and that he is not respecting or admiring virtue.

So when our love for good men starts to be such that we not only, as Plato says, count as blessed both the responsible man himself and anyone who listens 'to the words emitted by a responsible mouth', but we also admire and cherish his posture, walk, look and smile, and long to attach and glue ourselves to him, so to speak, then we can legitimately consider ourselves to be making genuine progress. This is even more legitimate if we do not admire only the successful aspects of men of virtue, but behave like lovers who are not put off if those they find attractive have a speech defect or a pallid complexion: despite the tears and misery brought on by her grief and misfortune, Pantheia still thrilled Araspes, and in the same way we should not be repelled by Aristides' exile, Anaxagoras' imprisonment, Socrates' poverty or Phocion's condemnation, but because we regard virtue as desirable even under these circumstances, we should draw near to it, quoting Euripides' line whenever the occasion demands - 'It's incredible how high-minded people find nothing bad!' You see, someone who is inspired enough to admire and want to imitate even apparently awful things, rather than be put off by them, can certainly never be deterred from good things ever again. It has already become such a person's practice, when he is embarking on some course of action, or taking up office, or taking a risk, to picture truly good men of the past and to wonder, 'What would Plato have done in this situation? What would Epaminondas have said? How would Lycurgus or Agesilaus have come across?' He uses each of them as a kind of mirror, before which he puts himself in order, or adjusts his stance, or refrains from some relatively petty saying of his, or resists an emotion. Some people learn the names of the Dactyls of Mount Ida and steadily recite each one, as a spell to ward off fear; but if thoughts and memories of good men readily occur to people who are making progress and make them think again, then they keep them true and safe, whatever emotions and difficulties beset them. It follows that this is another mark by which you can tell someone who is morally improving.

Moreover, to have stopped getting all flustered, blushing and hiding or rearranging some idiosyncrasy when a person who is famous for his self-control unexpectedly appears, but instead to go up to such people confidently, can corroborate one's awareness. Alexander apparently once saw a messenger running towards him with his right hand extended and looking very pleased. 'What news, my friend?' said Alexander. 'Has Homer come back to life?' For he thought that the one thing his exploits lacked was a voice that would give him undying fame. But the love which fills the character of a young man who is improving is, above all else, love of showing off before truly good people and of displaying his home, board, wife, children, occupation and spoken and written compositions; and consequently it is a source of pain for him to remember that his father or his tutor is dead and cannot see him in his present condition, and the one thing in particular he would pray to the gods for would be that they might come back to life and so witness his lifestyle and conduct. On the other hand, people who have taken no responsibility for themselves and who have been spoiled are quite the opposite: they cannot even dream about their relatives calmly and without anxiety.

There is another mark, no minor one, for you to add, please, to the ones we have already discussed. It is to have stopped regarding any of one's faults as trivial, and instead to take thorough care about and to pay attention to all of them. People who do not expect to become affluent have no qualms about spending small amounts, because they think that adding to the small amount they already have will not produce a large amount, whereas anticipation joins with savings to increase love of affluence the closer it gets to its goal. It is the same with conduct which pertains to virtue: if someone scarcely gives in to 'What's the point?' and 'That's it for now - better next time', but applies himself on every occasion, and gets fed up and irritated if vice ever worms its way, with its excuses, into even the slightest of his faults, then he is obviously in the process of acquiring for himself a certain purity and wants to avoid being defiled in any way whatsoever. On the other hand, thinking that nothing is, or can be, especially discreditable makes people nonchalant and careless about the little things. In fact, when a wall of some kind or other is being built, it does not make any difference if the odd piece of wood or ordinary stone is used as infrastructure, or if a stele that has fallen off a tomb is put in the footings, which is analogous to the conduct of degenerates who jumble together into a single heap any old business and behaviour. But people who are progressing, and who have already 'fashioned a fine foundation' for their life (as if it were a home for gods and kings), do not admit things chosen at random, but use reason as a straight-edge by which to apply and fit every single part together. And this, in my opinion, is what Polyclitus was referring to when he said that those whose clay is at the stage when fingertips are required have the hardest task.

On the avoidance of anger

SULLA: Fundanus, I think the painters' practice of periodically examining their paintings before adding the finishing touches is commendable. Continuous familiarity hides the ways in which something might vary slightly from what is required; so by interrupting their viewing, they use repeated discrimination to keep the viewing fresh and more likely to catch minor variations. But it is impossible for a person to apply himself to himself only periodically, by separating himself and interrupting the continuity of his self-awareness - and this is the main reason why everyone is a poorer judge of himself than of others. Therefore, a second-best course is for him periodically to inspect his friends and to make himself available to them for the same purpose, which is not to see if he has suddenly grown old or if his body is in a better or worse condition, but for them to examine his habits and character, to see if over a period of time any good features have been added or bad ones subtracted.

Anyway, I've come back to Rome after over a year away, and I've been with you for over four months now. I don't find it particularly surprising that the good points you were already innately endowed with have developed and increased so much; but when I see how much more amenable and submissive to reason that strong, fiery temper of yours has become, I am inclined to comment on your impetuosity by quoting the line, 'It is amazing how much more gentle he is.'

Nevertheless, this gentleness has not made you ineffective or languid, but it has replaced your notorious sudden changes of mood with a smooth surface and an effective, productive depth - like a cultivated field. It is also clear, therefore, that your temper is not waning because advancing age has made it start to decline, or because of any other automatic factor, but because it is being treated by good rational advice. But I must confess that when our mutual friend Eros told me this about you, I suspected that his warmth towards you was making him attribute to you qualities which truly good people ought to have, even though you didn't have them - and I thought this despite the fact that, as you know, he is the last person to renounce an opinion just in order to please anyone. But I now see that he is not guilty of perjury. Since we have nothing else to do while we're travelling, I wonder if you would explain how you made your temper so tame, moderate, and amenable and obedient to reason - what regimen you followed, so to speak.

FUNDANUS: You're too kind, Sulla. Are you sure that your warm friendship towards me is not blinding you to some aspects of my character? I mean, even Eros himself often fails to restrain his temper and 'keep it steadily compliant' (as Homer puts it); it is righteous indignation that makes it boil over. So it is possible that I seem amenable compared to him on these occasions, just as high notes can take the place of low notes, relative to other high notes, when one scale changes into another. SULLA: Neither of these are realistic possibilities, Fundanus. Please, as a favour to me, do what I asked.

FUNDANUS: All right. Musonius came up with some excellent suggestions, Sulla, and one of them, as I recall, was that a life of constant therapy guarantees immunity. The point is that when reason is the therapeutic agent, it should not - in my opinion - be flushed out of the system along with the illness, as hellebore is, but should remain in the mind and contain and watch over our decisions. In its effects, the analogy for reason is not medicine, but nourishing food, since anyone who becomes accustomed to it gains energy and well-being from it, whereas when emotions are at a peak of fermentation, advice and reproof struggle long and hard for slight gains, and exactly resemble smelling-salts, which arouse people who have a fit and fall unconscious, but don't get rid of the actual ailment.

Still, even at the time of their peak, all the other emotions do in a sense fall back and make way when reason with its reinforcements enters the mind from outside; but anger does not act in quite the way Melanthius says - 'It displaces intelligence and then commits criminal acts'; in fact, it does so after having replaced intelligence altogether, and shut it out of the house. And then the situation is similar to when people burn to death in their houses, in the sense that anger makes the inside full of chaos, smoke and noise, with the result that the mind is incapable of seeing or hearing anything beneficial. This is why it is easier for an abandoned ship to take on a helmsman from outside in the middle of a storm and in the open sea, than it is for someone who is being tossed in the sea of fury and anger to accept reason from an external source, unless he has made his own rationality ready. People who anticipate a siege and expect no help from outside accumulate and amass all the useful things they can; similarly, it is particularly important for people to gather from far and wide everything philosophy has to offer that will help combat anger, and to store it up in the mind - because the time when the need is crucial is also when they will not readily find it possible to introduce such assistance. I mean, the din stops the mind even hearing anything external, unless the mind has reason of its own, like an internal ship's boatswain who smartly picks up and understands every instruction; otherwise, even if the mind does hear anything, it despises quiet, gentle words and bridles at any which are more defiant. The point is that since a temper is arrogant, wilful and hard for an external agent to dislodge, it is like a secure tyranny which can be brought down only by an internal, inbred agent.

If anger becomes constant and resentment frequent, the mind acquires the negative condition known as irascibility, which results in prickliness, bitterness and a sour temper - that is, when the emotions become raw, easily distressed and hypercritical: think of a piece of iron which is already weak and thin being further filed. On the other hand, if rational discrimination immediately defies and bears down on any outburst of anger, it not only remedies the current situation, but also gives the mind energy and detachment for the future.

In my own case, at any rate, what happened is that once I had defied anger two or three times, I experienced what the Thebans did: once they had repulsed the apparently invincible Spartans for the first time, they were never subsequently defeated by them in battle. I mean, I gained the firm conviction that rationality can win. I saw that Aristotle's claim that anger ends when cold water is sprinkled on it is not the whole story: it is also quenched when faced with fear. Moreover, of course, the onset of happiness frequently causes the instantaneous 'melting', to use Homer's term, and dispersal of anger. The net result was that I became convinced that, provided the will is there, this emotion is not entirely irredeemable. You see, anger might well be aroused by something slight and meagre: often even a joke, a light-hearted remark, a laugh, a nod of assent, and so on and so forth, provoke anger. For example, when Helen addressed her niece as 'Electra, long-time spinster', she incited her remark, 'You have taken your time to see sense; in the past you left your home in disgrace.' And Callisthenes irritated Alexander by saying, when the large bowl was being passed around, 'I don't want to drink Alexander and then need Asclepius.'

Therefore, just as it is easy to control a flame which is starting to catch in hare's fur or on a wick or in a pile of rubbish (whereas if it catches in a solid object with depth, it quickly destroys and devastates 'with lively zest the lofty work of builders', as Aeschylus puts it), so anyone who pays attention to the early stages of anger and is aware of it gradually starting to smoulder and ignite as a result of some remark or rubbishy sarcasm doesn't need to exert himself a great deal, but often puts an end to it simply by keeping quiet and ignoring the remark. Anyone who doesn't fuel a fire puts it out, and anyone who doesn't feed anger in the early stages and doesn't get into a huff is being prudent and is eliminating anger.

I was accordingly not happy with Hieronymus, despite his useful comments and advice elsewhere, when he claims that because of its speed, anger is not perceptible when it is arising, but only when it has arisen and already exists. I mean, all the emotions go through the phase of gaining mass and movement, but in none of them is this arising and growth so obvious. So Homer's teaching on this is skilful: when he says, 'So he spoke; and dark clouds of anguish overshadowed Achilles', he is portraying Achilles as feeling sudden pain, when word reached him, with no lapse of time in between; but he portrays his anger at Agamemnon as slowly building up, and as gradually being ignited while a great number of words were being spoken. But if any of the people involved had withdrawn their words at the beginning and had resisted speaking them, their quarrel would not have escalated to such a degree and got so big. That is why whenever Socrates realized that he was getting too nasty to one of his friends, then because he was being driven 'as it were before a storm on the crest of an ocean wave', he used to lower his voice, smile and stop looking stern - and so keep himself upright and in control by counterbalancing the emotion and by moving instead in the opposite direction.

You see, my friend, there is a first-rate way to bring down our tyrant-like temper, which is not to listen or obey when it is ordering us to raise our voices, look fierce and beat our breasts, but to keep quiet and, as if the emotion were a disease, not aggravate it by thrashing and yelling. It may be that partying, singing and decorating doors - typical lovers' behaviour - do somehow afford an alleviation which is not unpleasing or inelegant ('I came, but did not call your name: I kissed your door. If this is a crime, I am a criminal'); and it may be that mourners eliminate a lot of their grief as well as their tears in the release of crying and weeping; but anger is made considerably more intense by the behaviour and speech of people in an angry state.

It is best, therefore, to keep calm, or alternatively to run away and hide and find refuge in silence, as though we realized that we were about to have a fit, and wanted to avoid falling, or rather falling on someone - and it is friends above all whom we most often fall on. We do not feel love or jealousy or fear for everyone, but anger leaves nothing alone, nothing in peace: we get angry at enemies and friends, at children and parents, and even at gods and animals and inanimate objects. For example, there is Thamyris, 'breaking the gilded frame, breaking the structure of the strung lyre'; and Pandarus swearing harm against himself, if he failed to burn his bow 'after shattering it with his bare hands'. And Xerxes even tried to brand and flog the sea, and sent a letter addressed to the mountain: 'Great Athos high as heaven, don't make huge, intractable rocks interfere with my actions, or else I will tear you to pieces and hurl you into the sea.' Anger can often be terrifying - but often ridiculous: that is why it is the most hated and despised of the emotions; and it is useful to be aware of both of these aspects.

In my case, at any rate - I don't know whether or not this is the correct way to go about it - I started my treatment as follows: just as the Spartans tried to understand drunkenness by watching their helots, I tried to understand anger by watching others. Hippocrates says that the severity of an illness is proportionate to the degree to which the patient's features become abnormal, and the first thing I noticed was a similar proportion between the degree of distraction by anger and the degree to which appearance, complexion, gait and voice change. This impressed upon me a kind of image of the emotion, and I was very upset to think that I might ever look so terrifying and unhinged to my friends, wife and daughters - not only fierce and unrecognizable in appearance, but also speaking in as rough and harsh a tone as I encountered in others of my acquaintance, when anger made them incapable of preserving their usual nature, appearance, pleasant conversation and persuasiveness and courtesy in company.

The orator Gaius Gracchus had a brusque personality and used to speak rather too passionately, so he had one of those little pipes made for himself which musicians use to guide their voices gradually note by note in either direction. His slave used to hold this and stand behind him while he was speaking, and sound a moderate, gentle keynote which enabled Gracchus to revoke his stridency and get rid of the harshness and anger of his tone. Just as the cowherd's 'wax-joined reed pipes in clear tones a sleep-inducing tune', so Gracchus' slave mollified and allayed the orator's anger.

If I had an ingenious attendant who was attuned to me, however, I would not be displeased if he employed a mirror during my outbursts of anger - as is occasionally done, though for no useful purpose, for people who have just bathed - since to see oneself in an unnatural state, all discomposed, plays a not unimportant part in discrediting the emotion. Indeed, there is an amusing story that once when Athena was playing the pipes, a satyr told her off by saying, 'This expression doesn't suit you. Put down your pipes, take up your weapons and compose your cheeks.' She paid no attention, however, but when she saw in a river how her face looked, she got upset and threw away the pipes.

At least art is tasteful, and this distracts one's attention from the ugliness. (Marsyas apparently used a kind of halter and a mouthpiece to channel the force of his breath, and to rectify and conceal the irregularity of his features - 'gleaming gold joined the hair of one temple to the other and thongs, bound behind, he attached to his hard-working mouth'.) Anger, on the other hand, not only disfigures the features by inflating and distending them, but also makes one's voice even more ugly and unpleasant, and 'moves the unmoved strings of the heart'. I mean, when the sea has been whipped up by winds and disgorges kelp and seaweed, people say that it is being purified; but the undisciplined, harsh and snide remarks which anger casts ashore from a mind in turmoil pollute primarily the speakers, and contaminate them with the opprobrium of having always had these remarks inside them, bursting to get out, and of being exposed by their anger. That is why, as Plato says, they pay the heaviest of penalties for the lightest of things - a word - since they give the impression of being antisocial, slanderous and malicious.

So when I observe and notice all this, I end up committing to memory and reminding myself pretty constantly of the fact that although when feverish it is good to have a soft, smooth tongue, it is even better when angry. I mean, if the tongue of someone with a fever is unnatural, it is a bad sign, but it does not cause any further problems; but if the tongue of someone in a temper has become rough and offensive and inclined towards abnormal language, then it manifests an insolence which causes an incurable breakdown of relationships and which betrays festering unsociability. Anger is worse than undiluted wine at producing undisciplined and disagreeable results: wine's results are blended with laughter, jokes and singing, while anger's results are blended with bitter gall; and anyone who is silent while drinking is irritating and annoying to his companions, whereas there is nothing more dignified than silence while angry, as Sappho recommends: 'When anger takes over your heart, guard your babbling tongue.'

However, constant attention to people who have been trapped by anger affords more than these reflections: it allows one to understand the nature of anger in other respects too, to see that it is not magnificent or manly, and that it has neither dignity nor grandeur. Nevertheless, most people mistake its turmoil for effectiveness, its menace for courage, its inflexibility for strength; and some people even call its callousness prowess, its stubbornness energy and its asperity righteous indignation. But this is wrong, because the actions, behaviour and conduct it prompts betray its pettiness and weakness. It is not just that angry people viciously assault little children, treat women harshly and think they should punish dogs, horses and mules (as Ctesiphon the pancratiast felt obliged to return his mule's kick); it is also that the narrow intolerance of tyrants is obvious in their cruelty, and their state is betrayed by their behaviour, so that their bloodthirstiness resembles the bite of a snake which, when enraged and in agony, directs its extreme inflammation at anyone who has hurt it. When flesh is hit hard, a swelling occurs; likewise, the most infirm minds are most liable to pain, and consequently their anger is greater because their weakness is greater.

This is also why women are more irascible than men, and sick, old or unlucky people are more irascible than healthy, middle-aged or successful people. An avaricious person is very likely to get angry with his business manager, a glutton with his cook, a jealous man with his wife, a vain person when something bad has been said about him; but the worst of all are, as Pindar says, 'political men who court ambition too much: they stir up open grief'. So it is from mental pain and suffering that anger arises, thanks above all to weakness; and whoever said that anger is, as it were, the mind's sinews was wrong: it is the straining and spraining of a mind being unduly dislocated in the course of its defensive impulses.

Anyway, observing these despicable cases was not pleasant, but simply necessary. But because I regard people who cope with fits of anger in a calm and composed manner as outstanding both to hear about and to witness, my starting-point is to despise those who say, 'You wronged a man: should a man put up with this?', and 'Tread him underfoot, tread on his neck, force him to the ground!', and so on: these are provocative things to say, and some use them improperly to transpose anger from the women's quarters to the men's. I think that manly courage is compatible with morality in all other respects, but incompatible only where gentleness is concerned, because gentleness is more self-contained. It is possible for worse men to overcome better men, but to set up in one's mind a trophy of victory over anger (which Heraclitus claims makes 'a difficult opponent, since it purchases whatever it wants at the expense of the mind') is a sign of great, overwhelming strength - a strength based on the faculties of rational judgement, which are the real sinews and muscles in the fight against the emotions.

That is why I constantly try to get hold of and read this kind of case, and not only when they are provided by philosophers (whom intelligent people regard as not being liable to gall), but even more when they are provided by kings and tyrants. For example, there is Antigonus' behaviour towards some of his soldiers who were cursing him near his tent, and didn't know he could hear them: 'Oh dear,' he said, poking his staff out of the tent and on to the ground, 'can't you go somewhere further away to criticize me?'

Arcadion the Achaean was always criticizing Philip and recommending escaping 'to a place whose inhabitants are ignorant of Philip'. Then he happened to turn up in Macedonia, and Philip's friends thought that he should punish him and not let him get away with it. Philip dealt with him kindly, however, and sent him presents and gifts; later he told his people to find out what report Arcadion had given to the Greeks. They all vouched for the fact that he had become an outstanding advocate of Philip, and Philip remarked, 'So I am a better doctor than you!' And once in Olympia some slander was being spread about him, and some people suggested that the Greeks ought to be made to suffer, since they were criticizing him despite his good treatment of them. 'What will they do, then,' he asked, 'if I treat them badly?'

Also fine was Pisistratus' behaviour towards Thrasybulus, Porsenna's towards Mucius and Magas' towards Philemon. Philemon made fun of Magas in one of his comedies, publicly in the theatre, with the lines: 'Here's a letter from the king for you to read, Magas ... Poor Magas, what a pity you can't read!' Later, Philemon was forced into Paraetonium by a storm, and fell into Magas' hands. Magas told a soldier to unsheathe a sword and simply touch Philemon on the neck with it, and then politely leave; and he sent him dice and a ball, as if he were a witless child, and then let him go.

Ptolemy was once mocking a scholar for his ignorance and asked him who Peleus' father was; the scholar replied that he would tell him, if Ptolemy told him first who Lagus' father was. His remark was a mocking reference to the king's low-class birth, and everyone was offended, feeling that the remark jarred and was uncalled for. Ptolemy said, 'If a king can't take mockery, then he shouldn't mock either.'

Alexander had been more harsh than usual in the affairs involving Callisthenes and Clitus. So when Porus was taken prisoner by Alexander he entreated him to deal with him as a king should. 'Is that all?' asked Alexander. '"As a king should" covers everything,' replied Porus. That is why 'the benevolent' is an epithet of the king of the gods (though the Athenians call him 'the tempestuous', I think): punishment is the work of the Furies and demigods - it is not divine and Olympian.

When Philip had levelled Olynthus, someone remarked, 'But rebuilding an equivalent city will be beyond his capabilities'; likewise one might say to anger, 'You're good at demolition and destruction and ruination, but construction, preservation, mercy and patience require gentleness, forgiveness and moderation of passion: they require Camillus, Metellus, Aristides and Socrates, whereas plaguing and biting are what ants and mice do.'

Moreover, when I also consider vindictiveness, I find that anger's version of it is ineffective, by and large: it exhausts itself in lip-chewing, tooth-grinding, empty assaults and curses consisting of mindless threats, and the result is as ridiculous as when children in a race fall down before they reach the goal for which they are striving, because they are not in control of themselves. It follows that the Rhodian put it nicely when he said to the Roman general's servant, who was yelling and coming on strong, 'I'm not bothered by your words, but by his silence.' And once Sophocles has Neoptolemus and Eurypylus equipped with weapons, he says, 'Without making boasts, without hurling insults, the two of them smashed into the massed bronze weaponry.'

The point is that although some savages treat their weapons with poison, courage has no need of bitter gall, since it is imbued with reason, whereas anger and rage are brittle and unsound. At any rate, the Spartans play pipes to quell anger in their men while they are fighting, and before a battle they sacrifice to the Muses to ensure the stable presence of reason; and if they rout the enemy, they do not set off in pursuit, but revoke their passion, which is like those handy-sized knives in that it is retractable and manageable. Anger, however, has caused many, many people to die before exacting their revenge: Cyrus and Pelopidas of Thebes are just two examples. Agathocles, on the other hand, good-temperedly put up with insults being hurled at him by the inhabitants of a city he was besieging, and when one of them asked, 'Potter, where will you get the money to pay your mercenaries?', he replied with a laugh, 'Here, if I raze your city!' Once some people mocked Antigonus for his deformity from their city walls, and he said to them, 'But I thought I was good-looking!' But when he had taken the city, he sold the mockers into slavery, and swore that he would keep in touch with their masters, to see if they ever insulted him again.

I also notice that anger makes lawyers and orators commit great mistakes; and Aristotle records that the friends of Satyrus of Samos blocked his ears with wax when he was in court, in case he messed things up by getting angry at being abused by his opponents. As for ourselves, don't we often bungle the punishment of a slave who is misbehaving, because they get frightened at our threats and at what we are saying, and run away? Nurses say to children, 'Stop crying and you can have it', and we could usefully address anger in the same way: 'Simmer down, shut up, slow down, and you will improve the chances and the probability of getting what you want.' I mean, if a father sees his child trying to cut or carve something with a knife, he takes the knife himself and does it; and if the rational mind takes over from anger the job of retribution, then the person who deserves it receives the punishment, and the rational mind remains safe and sound and valuable, instead of being punished itself, which is what often happens thanks to anger.

All the emotions need schooling, to tame (so to speak) and discipline by training the part of oneself that is irrational and recalcitrant; but one's servants provide a better training ground for anger than for any other emotion. The point is that our dealings with servants contain no element of envy, fear or rivalry, and constantly getting angry with them causes a lot of conflict and error and, because we have power over them, our anger puts us on a slippery downward slope, as it were, with no one to stand in our way and restrain us. I mean, absolute control cannot fail to be liable to error when emotion is involved: the only solution is to use considerable restraint to restrict your power and to resist the frequent complaints of wife and friends, as they accuse you of being weak and feeble.

I myself used to get very needled at my servants because of these accusations, and used to believe that by not punishing them I was spoiling them. But eventually I realized, first, that it is better to make them worse by patiently tolerating their badness than to concentrate on correcting others while allowing harshness and anger to corrupt oneself. And second, I saw plenty of cases where, precisely because they were not being punished, they were ashamed of being bad, let forbearance rather than retaliation initiate change in them and, I assure you, more enthusiastically served those who quietly sanctioned their actions than those who used flogging and branding: all this convinced me that reason is more authoritative than passion. The poet got it wrong when he said, 'Where there is fear, respect follows too.' It is actually the other way round: respect engenders in people the kind of fear which entails self-restraint, while non-stop, relentless flogging does not instil remorse for past misdeeds, but rather the intention to get away with it in the future.

In the third place, I constantly remind myself and bear in mind that when we were learning archery, we were not told not to shoot, but not to miss; likewise, learning how to punish in a well-timed, moderate, beneficial and appropriate way will not stop one punishing altogether. So I try to quell my anger above all by not denying the defendants the right to justify themselves, but by listening to what they have to say. This helps because time checks emotion and gives it space to dissolve, and also because rationality finds what method of punishment is appropriate, and how much is fitting. Moreover, the person who gets his just deserts has no excuse left for resisting correction, given that he is being punished not in anger, but because he has been convicted; and the most shameful factor is excluded, which is when the servant has a more just case than the master.

After Alexander's death, Phocion tried to stop the Athenians revolting too soon, or too readily trusting the news, by saying, 'If he is dead today, citizens of Athens, then he will be dead tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.' In the same way, in my opinion, anyone being driven headlong towards retaliation by anger ought to whisper to himself, 'If he is guilty today, then he will be guilty tomorrow and the day after tomorrow; and no harm will be done if he gets his just deserts later rather than sooner, but if he goes through it quickly, there will always - it has often happened in the past - be uncertainty as to his guilt.' I mean, which of us is horrible enough to flog and punish a slave for having five or ten days ago burned a savoury or knocked over a table or been rather slow to obey an order? But these are the things which make us upset and harsh and pitiless when they have just occurred and when they are still in the recent past. Solid objects seem bigger when it is misty, and the same happens to things when one is angry.

Our first reaction, therefore, should be to remember facts like this; and if in the clear, steady light of reason the deed still seems bad, when there is no doubt that we are free of the emotion, then we should attend to it: we should not at this later date neglect or abandon the punishment, as we do food when we have lost our appetite. Nothing is so conducive to doling out punishment when anger is upon us as having failed to punish, having let the issue drop, when anger had left us: the experience is identical to that of lazy rowers, who lie at anchor when the weather is calm and then run the risks of a voyage when the wind is up. We too accuse rationality of being weak and feeble when it comes to punishment, and so rush on recklessly before the wind of anger when it comes.

The point is that it is proper for someone who is hungry to engage in eating, but it is proper for someone who is neither hungry nor thirsty for it to engage in retribution. He should not need anger in order to punish, as he might need a savoury, but it is essential that he waits until he has greatly distanced himself from the appetite for punishment and introduced rationality instead. Aristotle records that in his time servants were flogged in Tyrrhenia to the accompaniment of pipes; but we should not follow suit and, for the sake of personal pleasure, be driven by a desire for satisfaction, as it were, to gorge ourselves with retaliation - to enjoy punishing (which is to behave like an animal), and then regret it later (which is to behave like a woman). Rather, we should wait until there is no trace of either pleasure or distress, and rationality is present, and then take reprisal without being motivated at all by anger.

Anyway, as may be obvious, this is not a cure for anger, but a means of postponing and protecting oneself against making mistakes while angry (despite the fact that, as Hieronymus says, although a swollen spleen is a symptom of fever, reducing the swelling alleviates the fever). But when I was trying to see how anger actually starts, I noticed that although different factors trigger its onset in different people, there is almost always present a belief that they are being slighted and ignored. It follows that we should help people who are trying to evade anger by putting the greatest possible distance between any given action and contempt or arrogance, by attributing the action instead to ignorance or necessity or emotion or accident. As Sophocles says, 'My lord, unfortunate people find that even their innate intelligence has no stability, but deserts them.' And Agamemnon attributes his theft of Briseis to his being possessed, but still says, 'I want to make amends and give you vast gifts of recompense.'

The point of this quote is that no one can make an appeal to someone if he despises him; and by being demonstrably humble, the offender gets rid of any impression of contempt. But anyone who is angry should not just wait for this to happen, but should of his own accord cling to what Diogenes said: 'Those people are laughing at you, Diogenes,' someone said; 'But I don't feel laughed at,' he replied. So anyone who is angry should not think that he is being despised, but should rather despise the other person, on the grounds that his offence was caused by weakness, impetuosity, laziness, meanness, old age or youth.

However, our dealings with servants and friends must be completely free of this impression, since contempt for us as powerless or as ineffective plays no part in their attitude towards us: our servants regard us as good, on the assumption that we are fair to them, and our friends regard us as their friends, on the assumption that we are affectionate towards them. In fact, however, it is not only wife, servants and friends that we behave harshly towards because we think we are despised by them, but the same idea often brings us into angry conflict with innkeepers, sailors and drunken muleteers, and makes us get cross with dogs for barking at us and donkeys for bumping into us. We are just like the man who wanted to hit a donkey driver, and then when he shouted, 'I'm an Athenian citizen', he said to the donkey, 'Well, you aren't', and began hitting it and raining blows on it.

Now, those continuous, constant feelings of anger which gradually gather in the mind like a swarm of bees or wasps are engendered in us above all by self-regard and discontent, coupled with a luxurious and enervating way of life. It follows that there is no more important means of promoting kind behaviour towards one's servants, wife and friends than being easy to please and having a simple lifestyle, as a result of the ability to adapt oneself to immediate circumstances and not to need a lot of extras. On the other hand, 'anyone whose discontent makes him critical, if his food is over-baked or over-boiled, or under- or over- or medium-seasoned', and who can't have a drink without ice, or eat shop-bought bread, or take a morsel of food served on plain or earthenware dishes, or sleep on a mattress unless it billows like the sea in a deep swell, and who flogs and beats his table servants, forcing them to hurry, making them rush about, create a hubbub and work up a sweat as if they were bringing poultices for boils - anyone like this is enslaved to a feeble, nit-picking, complaining way of life, and fails to realize that he is creating for his temper the kind of raw and oozing condition which a chronic cough or constantly bumping into things causes. So we must train the body, by means of frugality, to be self-sufficient and hence easily pleased, because people who want little are seldom disappointed.

Food should be our starting-point: it is no great hardship quietly to make do with what is to hand, and not worry and fuss about a considerable proportion of our food, which imposes upon ourselves and our companions the most disagreeable flavouring of all - anger. It is impossible to conceive of a less pleasant meal than when servants are beaten and wife is cursed because something is burned or smoky or has insufficient salt, or because the bread is too cold. Arcesilaus once had some visitors staying and he invited friends over to dinner, but when the meal was served, there was no bread, because the servants had forgotten to buy any - which would make anyone scream loud enough to crack the walls! But Arcesilaus smiled and said, 'It's a good thing that intellectuals like a drinks party!'

Socrates once brought Euthydemus home from the wrestling-school, and Xanthippe laid into them angrily, hurled insults at them and eventually overturned the table. Euthydemus was very upset, and got up to go, but Socrates said, 'When we were at your house the other day, a hen flew in and did exactly the same, but we didn't get cross, did we?'

We should welcome friends gladly, with smiles and affection - without scowling and without instilling fear and trepidation in our servants. And we should also condition ourselves to be happy to use any utensils, and not to have preferences: some people (including Marius, we hear), having once chosen one particular goblet or cup, refuse to drink out of any other, even when they have plenty available; others are the same way about oil-flasks and strigils, and love one set above all others; and then, when any of these special things gets broken or lost, they can hardly bear it and they resort to punishment. So anyone whose weakness is anger should get rid of rare and unusual things like cups, rings and precious stones, since their loss is more unsettling than the loss of common, everyday things. That is why, when Nero had an amazingly beautiful and lavish octagonal tent made, Seneca said, 'You are a self-convicted pauper, because this tent is irreplaceable if lost.' And in fact the tent was lost, as it happened, when its ship went down; but Nero remembered what Seneca had said, and did not get too upset.

Being unfussy about mundane things makes one unfussy and gentle with one's servants; and if one is gentle with one's servants, then obviously one will also be gentle with one's friends and dependants. It is noticeable that the first thing slaves try to find out about their new owner, after they have been bought, is not whether he is liable to superstition or envy, but whether he has a temper. In fact, it is generally true that where anger is present, husbands cannot tolerate their wives' impassivity, or wives their husbands' passion, or friends one another's familiarity. So when anger is present, neither marriage nor friendship is endurable; but when anger is absent, even drunkenness is no burden. Dionysus' wand provides punishment enough for anyone who gets drunk, unless anger intrudes and imbues the wine with the god of cruelty and madness, rather than of ecstasy and dance. Anticyra cures straightforward insanity, but the combination of madness and anger is the stuff of tragedy and myth.

We should eliminate anger from our lighter moments, because it imposes enmity on affability; from our discussions, because it turns love of debating into love of disputing; from our decision-making, because it tinges authority with arrogance; when we are teaching, because it instils lack of confidence and a distaste for rationality; when we are doing well, because it promotes envy; when we are doing badly, because it deters sympathy by making people fight irritably with anyone commiserating with them. Priam is an example of this, with his 'Go away, you vile wretches! Haven't you got problems of your own? Why have you come to bother me?'

Being easy to please, on the other hand, is either a help or an embellishment or a delight, and its gentleness overcomes anger and discontent of all kinds. Consider Euclides, for instance: when his brother ended an argument by saying, 'I'll get my own back on you, if it's the last thing I do', Euclides replied, 'I'll win you over, if it's the last thing I do', and immediately made him alter course and change his mind. And Polemon was once being cursed by a man who was fond of precious stones and obsessed with costly rings; Polemon did not respond at all, but began to study one of the man's rings closely. So the man felt pleased and said, 'You'll get a far better impression of it, Polemon, if you examine it in sunlight rather than here.'

Once Aristippus was angry with Aeschines, and someone asked, 'What's happened to Aeschines', and your friendship, Aristippus?' He replied, 'It's sleeping, but I'll wake it up.' He went to Aeschines and said, 'Do you think there's absolutely no chance for me, no hope at all? Is that why you don't tell me off?' And Aeschines' response was: 'Given that you're inherently better than me in all respects, it's not at all surprising that you were the first to see what to do.'

It has been said that 'A new-born child, stroking a bristle-maned boar with his young hand, may - and so may a woman - bring him down more easily than any wrestler.' We, however, domesticate and tame wild creatures, and carry wolf and lion cubs around in our arms, but then under the influence of anger we reject children, friends and acquaintances; and we use our anger like a wild beast to assault our servants and fellow citizens, and misguidedly gloss over it as 'righteous indignation'. There is no difference, in my opinion, between this and calling other mental affections and afflictions 'foresight' or 'independence' or 'respect': it cannot free us from any of them.

Now, Zeno used to say that seed is a compound, a mixture of extracts from all the faculties which make up a person's nature; and analogously, anger seems to be a kind of conglomerate of emotional seeds. It contains elements extracted from pain and pleasure and arrogance; it has the gloating pleasure of spite, and also gets its method of grappling from spite, in the sense that the avoidance of its own suffering is not the purpose of its efforts, but it accepts harm to itself while destroying the other person; and one of its ingredients is the form of desire which is the most disagreeable of all, the longing to hurt someone else. When we approach reprobates' houses, we hear a pipe-girl playing at dawn and the sights that greet our eyes are, to quote, 'sediment of wine and shreds of garlands' and inebriated servants at the door; but the fact that the longing to hurt others is an aspect of anger explains why you will see the manifest signs of cruel and irascible people on the faces and in the identification tattoos and chains of their servants; and 'wailing is the only constant refrain to arise in the house' of an angry man - the wailing of estate-managers being flogged and serving-women having their arms twisted inside the house; and the consequence of all this is that anger is pitiful to anyone who can see that its desires and its pleasures involve pain.

Despite what has been said, anyone who is commonly susceptible to anger because of genuine righteous indignation must rid himself of the excessive, unmitigated part of his anger, along with his overconfidence in the people he comes across. This overconfidence is one of the chief causes of the aggravation of anger, which is what happens when someone assumed to be good turns out to be bad, or when a supposed friend gets cross or critical. In my own case, I'm sure you know how much I am naturally inclined towards thinking well of people and trusting them. It is like when you take a step, but there is nothing there to tread on: the more I commit myself to being friendly, the more I go wrong and get hurt by my mistakes. I might well not be able at this late stage to lessen this excessive susceptibility to and enthusiasm for friendship; but I can use Plato's words of warning to bridle my overconfidence. Plato says that his praise for the mathematician Helicon is couched the way it is because Helicon is a member of an inherently inconstant species; and he claims to be right to be wary of people brought up in his city, because since they are human and the offspring of humans, they might at any time reveal the weakness inherent in their nature.

However, Sophocles' assertion that 'Most aspects of humanity will be found on investigation to be contemptible' seems excessively harsh and restrictive. Still, the pessimistic, carping tone of this judgement does make us less liable to anger and its consequent disruptiveness; I mean, it is what is unexpected and unforeseen that throws us. We should (as Panaetius said at one point) make use of the attitude summed up in Anaxagoras' dictum: when his son died, he said, 'I knew that I had fathered a mortal.' Likewise, whenever we get irritated by someone's mistakes, we should comment, 'I knew that the slave I bought was unintelligent', or 'I knew that my friend was not flawless', or 'I knew that my wife was a woman.' And if one also keeps reiterating Plato's saying, 'Am I not like that too?', he will turn his thinking inward instead of outward, and will interrupt his complaining with caution, and will consequently not employ a great deal of righteous indignation towards others when he sees that he himself requires a lot of forbearance. But as it is, every one of us gets angry and lashes out, and sounds like Aristides and Cato: 'Stop stealing!', 'Don't tell lies!', 'Why are you slacking?' And the most despicable thing of all is that we angrily reprimand others for being angry, and we furiously punish others for mistakes made because they were infuriated: we do not behave like doctors who 'use bitter medicine to flush out bitter bile', but we aggravate and exacerbate the condition.

At the same time as bearing in mind these considerations, I also try to cut back a bit on my nosiness. I mean, knowing every single detail about everything, investigating and eliciting a slave's every occupation, a friend's every action, a son's every pastime, a wife's every whisper - this leads to many outbursts of anger, one after another every day, and these in turn add up to habitual discontent and surliness. Although Euripides is right to say that it is when things get out of hand that God 'intervenes, while leaving minor matters to chance', I still think that a sensible person ought to entrust nothing to chance, and ought to ignore nothing: he should trust and make use of his wife for some matters, his servants for others and his friends for others (just as a ruler trusts and makes use of overseers, accountants and managers), while being himself, by virtue of his rationality, in charge of the most far-reaching and important matters. For just as tiny writing irritates the eyes, so the extra strain of trivial matters chafes and unsettles one's temper, and it acquires a habit which is detrimental when more important matters are at stake.

All in all, therefore, I began to think that Empedocles' dictum 'Observe a fast from evil' is crucial and inspired; furthermore, not just because they are agreeable, but also because they are not irrelevant to the practice of philosophy, I began to commend those familiar pacts, pledged with devotion, such as to honour God with one's self-control, by keeping oneself for a year untainted by sex and alcohol; or again to refrain from lying for a prescribed period of time, by paying attention to oneself to make sure that one always tells the truth, in both unguarded and serious moments.

And then I compared my own pledge with these, and found it just as pleasing to God and just as sacred. My pledge was to begin by spending a few days doing the equivalent of going without drinking and alcohol - avoiding anger, and doing so as if I were pouring ritual libations of water and of honey, but not of wine; and then to spend a month, two months, doing this ... In this way, by experimenting on myself, the period of time gradually got longer and I progressed towards increased tolerance, by using self-control to pay attention to myself and to keep myself composed and imperturbable - maintaining a holy silence - and to remain untainted by pernicious speech, unnatural actions and emotion. Emotion leads, for the sake of a form of pleasure which is small in quantity and disagreeable in quality, to enormous mental confusion and the most despicable remorse. And this, I think, is why (with God's assistance too) my experience tends to clarify the meaning of the well-known view that this composure, calmness and charity is nowhere near as kind and considerate and inoffensive to those who come across it as it is to those who possess it.

On contentment

FROM PLUTARCH TO PACCIUS. I hope this finds you well. Not long ago, I got your letter, in which you suggested that I write down for you something about contentment, and about those passages in Timaeus which need rather careful interpretation. At pretty much the same time, our friend Eros suddenly found he had to sail to Rome, since he had received a letter from the illustrious Fundanus; typically, Fundanus told him to hurry. On the one hand, I didn't have as much time as I wanted to get to grips with the topics you were asking me to address; but on the other hand, I couldn't bear the idea of Eros leaving here, going to you and being found to be completely empty-handed. So I read those bits of my notebooks, written in fact for myself, which covered the topic of contentment. I imagined that what you too wanted from this discourse was practical help, not a lecture whose aim was elegant composition; and I share your pleasure in the fact that although you have friends in positions of authority, and although you have a preeminent reputation as a political speaker, you have not experienced what Merops did in the tragedy: it is not the case, as it was with him, that 'the adulation of the masses has driven you mad' and into abnormal behaviour. No, you have taken to heart what you have often been told: 'gout is not alleviated by a patrician shoe, nor a whitlow by an expensive ring nor a migraine by a crown.' How on earth can assets or a reputation or power at court contribute towards having a mind that is free of distress and a life that is as calm as a millpond, unless their possession and use are pleasant, but at the same time they are never missed if they are lacking? And what else guarantees this except rationality which has become accustomed to quickly restraining - and taking care to do so - the emotional, irrational part of the mind on the many occasions when it tries to exceed its bounds, and not conniving at its flooding and racing away from what is actually there?

Xenophon recommends that we remember and acknowledge the gods particularly in times of prosperity, so that when we are in need, we can confidently petition them in the knowledge that they are predisposed to be charitable and friendly. It is no different in the case of rational arguments which help us combat the emotions: anyone with any sense should pay attention to them before emotion arises, so as to widen his defensive preparations and thereby increase the benefit he gains. You know how aggressive dogs get thoroughly agitated at any and every loud voice and are calmed down only by the one with which they are familiar; so the mind's emotions too are hard to restrain when they are overexcited, unless rational arguments are already there, ingrained and familiar, to check the agitation.

Whoever it was who said that 'Contentment is impossible for anyone who busies himself with personal or public affairs' makes contentment, in the first place, an expensive commodity if its price is inactivity. It is as though his prescription for every invalid is to say, 'You poor thing, stay perfectly still in your bed', whereas inertia is in fact no good as a treatment for a body suffering from numbness and, as psychiatry, it is equally ineffective to try to remove agitation and distress from the mind by means of laziness, weakness and betrayal of friends, household and country.

Moreover, in the second place, it is not true that anyone who is not busy is content. It would follow that women are more content than men, since they generally deal only with domestic matters; but in fact, although (in Hesiod's words) the north wind 'does not reach a young woman's tender body', nevertheless distress, disturbance and depression trickle into the women's quarters through the agency of jealousy, superstition, ambition and innumerable empty beliefs. Laertes spent twenty years by himself away from civilization, 'with an old woman to look after him, who served his food and drink', and although he shunned his country, home and kingdom, nevertheless his inactivity and ennui had distress as a constant close companion. Even absolute inactivity is likely to induce discontent in some cases: for example, 'But swift-footed Achilles, Peleus' son, descended from Zeus, stayed sitting by his sharp-prowed ships and never went to assembly, which brings men prestige, or to battle, but stayed there with his heart pining in longing for the war cry and for battle.' The depth of his feeling and his grief caused him to say to himself, 'I sit by my ships, a pointless burden to the world.'

This is why not even Epicurus thinks that a quiet life is desirable; he says that people who want status and fame should go along with this aspect of their nature and engage in politics and public life, because they are inherently more likely to be thrown off balance and to be harmed by inactivity - by failing to fulfil their desires. But it is ridiculous for him to recommend public life, not to those with talent, but to those who are incapable of living peacefully. Contentment and discontent should be defined not by the frequency or rarity of one's actions, but by their goodness or badness: the omission of good deeds is - and this has been said before - just as annoying and disturbing as the commission of bad deeds.

There are people who think that freedom from distress resides in one way of life in particular - for instance, in farming or bachelorhood or kingship. What Menander said can act as a reminder for them: 'Phanias, I used to think that rich people, because they have no debts, don't sigh at night, or toss and turn, or moan "Poor me!"; I used to think they slept a pleasant, peaceful sleep.' He goes on to explain that, in his experience, even the rich suffer exactly as the poor do, and then says, 'Is grief related in some way to life? It consorts with a life of luxury, is inseparable from a life of fame, grows old with a life of poverty.'

Consider people who are scared of sailing or who get seasick: they imagine that the voyage will pass more easily if they exchange a skiff for a merchant ship, and then the merchant ship for a trireme; but this gets them nowhere, because they take their sickness and fears with them. This is an analogy for exchanging one way of life for another; it does not eradicate from the mind the factors which make it distressed and disturbed, which are unworldliness, lack of discrimination and not being able, or not knowing how, to make proper use of one's present circumstances. These are the storm winds that vex both rich and poor, trouble both married and single; they make men shun public life and then find a quiet life intolerable; they make men pursue promotion at court and be miserable as soon as they get it. 'Helplessness makes sick people a peevish lot': their wives irritate them, they complain about their doctors, grumble about their beds and 'for a friend to come is a nuisance, to leave is an offence', as Ion says. But when the illness has dissolved and the humours are differently blended, health comes and makes everything nice and pleasant, in the sense that someone who yesterday detested eggs and cakes and bread made from fresh wheat, today is even glad to eat coarse bread with olives or mustard seeds.

The engendering of rationality within us causes this kind of satisfaction with, and change of attitude towards, any way of life. Alexander once shed tears while listening to Anaxarchus lecture on the existence of an infinite number of worlds. His friends asked him what the matter was, and he replied, 'Don't you think tears are called for, if there are an infinite number of worlds, and I've not yet gained control of just one?' On the other hand, Crates, with his bag and threadbare cloak, spent his whole life joking and laughing as though he were on holiday. Moreover, Agamemnon was troubled by his extensive responsibilities as king - 'You will recognize Agamemnon, son of Atreus, whom Zeus has singled out for constant hard work' - but when Diogenes was up for sale, he lay on the ground and teased the auctioneer by refusing to get up when told to, but joking and saying with a laugh, 'Imagine it's a fish you're trying to sell!' Or again, Socrates went on discussing philosophy with his companions while he was in prison, but Phaethon used to weep when he had scaled the heights of heaven, if no one gave him his father's horses and chariot.

It is the shoe that bends along with the foot, not the other way around; and likewise, an implication of what we have been saying is that disposition moulds life. I mean, the notion that familiarity makes the best life pleasant for anyone who has chosen it is wrong: it is rational intelligence which makes the life one already has both the best one and the most pleasant one. It follows that we should purify our innate well of contentment and then external things will be in harmony with us too, provided we don't maltreat them, and will seem congruent and congenial. 'There's no point in getting angry with one's situation, because it is utterly indifferent; but success will accrue to anyone who treats the situations he encounters correctly.'

Plato compared life to a game of dice in which it is not just important to throw something appropriate, but also to make good use of it however the throw turns out. And where our situations are concerned, it may be true that we do not control the throw of the dice, but it is our job, if we are sensible, to accommodate ourselves to whatever fortune deals us and to allocate everything to a place where, as each situation arises, if it is congruent, we can maximize its benefit, and if it is unwelcome, we can minimize its harm. A physical illness can make people incapable of enduring either heat or cold, and those who muddle unintelligently through life are like that, in the sense that they get ecstatic at good fortune and depressed at bad fortune - which is to say that both good and bad fortune knock them off balance, or rather that they knock themselves off balance when they encounter either of them; and it is the same story when they encounter anything that one might term good. Theodorus the Atheist (as he was called) used to say that although he delivered his lectures with his right hand, the audience caught them in their left hands; and uneducated people, faced with a favourable or right-handed opportunity, often take it up awkwardly or left-handedly and make fools of themselves. Thyme, the most acrid and dry of plants, provides bees with honey; and likewise intelligent people can invariably find something congruent with and useful to themselves from the most forbidding of situations.

The chief thing, then, to practise and pursue is the attitude exemplified by the man whose stone missed his dog and hit his stepmother: 'That's not bad either!' he said. It is possible to change opportunities so that they are no longer unwelcome. Diogenes was exiled; 'That's not bad either', because he subsequently took up philosophy. Zeno of Citium had just one ship left from his merchant fleet; when he was told that this one too was lost, sunk with all its cargo, he said, 'Thank you, fortune, for helping to drive me into a threadbare cloak.'

Why can't the rest of us behave in the same way? Have you failed to capture some public position you were after? You can live in the country, minding your own business. Have you been spurned while courting the affection of someone in authority? You can now live a life free of risk and bother. Is your time again taken up with worldly business and worries? Well, to quote Pindar, 'the extent to which warm water relaxes a body is nothing' compared to how fame and respect, conjoined with power, make 'work pleasant and labour non-laborious'. Are you faced with misery and insults because lies or malicious tales are being spread about you? This is a following wind, blowing you towards the Muses and the Academy, as Plato was driven by the storm winds of his friendship for Dionysius.

It follows that another thing that is important for contentment is to reflect on famous men, and how they have not been affected at all by circumstances identical to one's own. Is childlessness your problem, for example? Look at the kings of Rome, none of whom had a son to whom he could bequeath his kingdom. Are you weighed down by poverty at the moment? But is there any Boeotian you would rather be than Epaminondas, any Roman rather than Fabricius? 'But my wife has been seduced!' Well, haven't you read the inscription at Delphi which goes 'Erected by Agis, lord of water and of earth'? And haven't you heard that this is the man whose wife Timaea was seduced by Alcibiades, and that in an undertone to her serving-women she used to call her child Alcibiades? Yet this did not stop Agis from being the most famous and important Greek of his day. Nor, for example, did the promiscuity of Stilpo's daughter stop him living a more carefree life than any of his philosophical contemporaries. In fact, when Metrocles told him off for his daughter's behaviour, Stilpo's response was, 'Is it my fault or hers?' Metrocles said, 'Her fault, but your misfortune.' 'What do you mean?' asked Stilpo. 'Isn't a fault a mistake?' 'Certainly,' said Metrocles. 'And isn't anyone making a mistake also suffering a setback?' continued Stilpo. Metrocles agreed. 'And isn't anyone suffering a setback also suffering a misfortune?' Stilpo concluded. This calm, philosophical argument showed the Cynic's aspersion to be empty barking.

Still, most people are hurt and provoked, by their enemies' flaws, as well as by those of their friends and relatives. I mean, being inclined towards insolence, anger, spite, malice, jealousy and hostility not only plagues those people who have these weaknesses, but also annoys and irritates foolish people - as, of course, do a neighbour's short temper, an acquaintance's grumpiness and a public administrator's iniquity. And I think that you too are very far from failing to get upset at these flaws; like the doctors in Sophocles who 'use bitter medicine to flush out bitter bile', you react to these affections and affictions with rage and bitterness. But this is unreasonable, because the public business which has been entrusted to you and which you conduct is managed by people whose characters are not straightforward and good, as well-made tools should be, but are invariably jagged and warped; and you should not, therefore, consider it to be your job - or at any rate you should not consider it to be an easy job - to straighten them out. However, if you use them as a doctor uses tooth extractors and wound clamps - that is, as being made just the way they are - and if you show yourself to be as lenient and moderate as circumstances permit, then your pleasure in your own attitude will outweigh your distress at others' unsatisfying and iniquitous behaviour, you will regard them as doing what comes naturally to them (as dogs are when they bark) and you will stop unwittingly being infected by others' flaws, which is to let plenty of distressing factors seep into the sunken and low-lying land of this pettiness and weakness of yours.

Some philosophers find fault even with compassion, when it is felt for people who are out of luck, on the grounds that while helping people one comes across is a good thing, sharing their troubles and giving in to them is not. More importantly, they forbid us to be discontented or depressed even when we realize that we ourselves have flawed and defective characters; they tell us instead not to get distressed, but just to try to cure the problem, as is right and proper. You should consider, then, how utterly illogical it is for us to connive at ourselves getting cross and irritated because not everyone with whom we have dealings and who crosses our paths is fair and congenial.

No, my dear Paccius, you must make sure that we are not deceiving ourselves by denouncing and being worried about the iniquity of people we come across only in so far as it affects us, rather than in general - that is, you must make sure that we are not being motivated by selfishness, but by hatred of badness. The point is that if we are unduly discomposed by public life and if we have unwarranted impulses and aims, or alternatively unwarranted aversions and antipathies, then this makes us suspicious of people and irritated by them, because we think that they are the causes of our losses and accidents. A high degree of contentment and calmness in relating to people is an attribute of someone who has trained himself to cope with public life without fuss and bother.

Bearing this in mind, let us return to the matter of one's situation. When we have a fever, everything tastes bitter and unpleasant, but once we have seen other people taking the same food without revulsion, we stop blaming the food and drink, and start to blame ourselves and our illness. In the same way, we will stop blaming and being disgruntled at circumstances if we see other people cheerfully accepting identical situations without getting upset. So when unwelcome incidents occur, it is also good for contentment not to ignore all the gratifying and nice things we have, but to use a process of blending to make the better aspects of our lives obscure the glare of the worse ones. But what happens at the moment is that, although when our eyes are harmed by excessively brilliant things we look away and soothe them with the colours that flowers and grasses provide, we treat the mind differently: we strain it to glimpse the aspects that hurt it, and we force it to occupy itself with thoughts of the things that irritate it, by tearing it almost violently away from the better aspects. And yet the question addressed to the busybody can be transferred to this context and fit in nicely: 'You spiteful man, why are you so quick to spot someone else's weakness, but overlook your own?' So we might ask: why, my friend, do you obsessively contemplate your own weakness and constantly clarify it and revivify it, but fail to apply your mind to the good things you have? Cupping-glasses extract from flesh anything particularly bad, and likewise you are attracting to yourself the very worst of your attributes. You are making yourself no better at all than the Chian who used to sell plenty of quality wine to other people, but for his own meal used to taste wines until he found a vinegary one; and when someone asked one of his servants what he had left his master doing, the servant replied, 'Looking for bad when surrounded by good.'

As a matter of fact, most people do bypass what is good and refreshing in their lives, and make straight for the unpleasant, bad elements. Aristippus was different, however: he was good at lightening himself and raising himself up (imagine him on a pair of scales) towards the better aspects of his situation. At any rate, he once lost a fine estate, and people were insincerely saying how sorry and sympathetic they felt. He asked one of them, 'Haven't you got just one little plot of land, while I have still got three farms?' The fellow said yes, and Aristippus said, 'Why, then, am I not feeling sorry for you, rather than the other way round?' The point is that it is crazy to be upset about what one has lost and not feel happy about what one has kept; otherwise, we are behaving like little children who, when deprived of just one of their many toys, wail and scream and throw all the rest of their toys away. In the same way, if we let fortune distress us just once, then our whining and resentment deprives everything else as well of any benefit for us.

Someone might ask, 'But what can we be said to have or not to have?' Fame, property, married status, a good friend - these are the things people have. When Antipater of Tarsus was close to death, he added up the good things that had happened to him, and included even the easy voyage he had had from Cilicia to Athens. And we must not overlook even things we share with others, but take them into account, and be thankful that we have life and health and that we walk the earth; that there is no war, either foreign or civil, but that we may, if we so choose, farm the land and sail the seas without fear; that the full range of possibilities is open to us, from oratory and politics to a quiet, inactive life. When we have these shared things, we will increase our contentment with them if we imagine that we do not have them, and frequently remind ourselves how desirable health is to sick people, peace to people at war, and the acquisition of fame and friends to an obscure stranger in a city as big as yours, and also remind ourselves how distressing it is to lose these things if they have been ours in the past. If we do this, then we will not rate and value any of these things highly only once it has been lost, while discounting it altogether as long as it is in our keeping. I mean, the fact that we do not own something does not increase its value; and we should not be acquisitive as if these things were important, and be constantly trembling in fear of losing them as if they were important, but ignore them and belittle them, while we have them, as if they were worthless. Instead, while we have them, we should above all use them for our enjoyment and profit from them, so that, in the event of their loss, we can endure this too with greater equanimity. Arcesilaus used to point out that although most people think it their duty to use their minds to explore and their eyes to examine other people's poems, paintings and statues in precise and minute detail, yet they forget their own lives, which could provide plenty of areas for pleasurable reflection: they constantly look outwards and are impressed by other people's fame and fortune, just as adulterers are by other men's wives, but belittle themselves and what they already have.

Nevertheless, another thing that is important for contentment is to restrict one's inspection as much as possible to oneself and those things which are relevant to oneself, or else to consider people who are less well off than oneself. What one should avoid is lining oneself up against people who are better off, despite the fact that this is the usual practice: prisoners, for instance, envy those who have been freed, who envy people who have always been free, who envy those with citizen status, who in turn envy rich people, who envy province commanders, who envy kings, who - because they almost aspire to making thunder and lightning - envy the gods. Consequently, since they never attain things which are out of their reach, they are never thankful for the things that are relevant to them. 'Gold-laden Gyges' possessions are of no interest to me; I have never yet been gripped by envy, nor do I seek to emulate what the gods do, nor do I desire a great kingdom. I do not set my sights on such distant views.'

Someone might say, 'That's because this is a Thasian speaking.' But there are other provincials - from Chios, Galatia or Bithynia - who are dissatisfied with having obtained a portion of status or power among their compatriots, and who weep because they do not wear patrician robes; and if they do, then because they have not yet held military command at Rome; and if they have, then because they are not consuls; and if they are, then because when the announcement was made, they did not head the list. The only possible description of this is self-mortification and self-inflicted punishment, as a result of scrabbling for reasons to be ungrateful to fortune. On the other hand, anyone whose mind sanely reflects that the sun sees countless thousands of humans - 'all we who enjoy the broad land's produce' - does not slump into depression and despondency if there are people more famous and rich than himself; there are so many human beings that his life is a thousand times more perfect than thousands of people's, so he continues on his path, celebrating his own destiny and life.

It may be impossible to choose one's opponents in the Olympic Games and so gain victory that way, but life's situations do often present one with opportunities for appreciating one's better position - for being envied rather than envying others - unless, of course, it is Briareus or Heracles one pits oneself against! So when you find yourself overawed by the apparent superiority of a man who is being carried in a sedan chair, make sure you look down and also see those who are keeping him off the ground; and when you find yourself envying Xerxes, as the Hellespontian did, on the famous occasion of Xerxes' pontoon crossing, make sure you also see the men being driven by whips to excavate Mount Athos and the men with faces mutilated when the bridge was destroyed by the waves; if you take their thoughts into consideration as well, you find that they are envying your life and your situation.

Socrates once heard one of his acquaintances remarking how expensive Athens was: 'A mina for Chian wine, three minae for a purple-dyed robe, five drachmae for a kotyle of honey.' Socrates grabbed hold of him and showed him some grain - 'An obol for half a hekteus - Athens is cheap'; and then some olives - 'Two bronze coins for a choinix - Athens is cheap'; and then some simple cloaks - 'Ten drachmae - Athens is cheap.' So when we too hear someone remarking on how trivial and terribly distressing our personal situations are, because we are not consuls or governors, we can reply, 'Our situations are not at all unprepossessing, and our lives are to be envied, because we are not beggars or porters or flatterers.'

Despite all this we habitually live, out of stupidity, with our attention on others rather than on ourselves. So since human nature contains plenty of malicious envy and spite, with the result that the degree of pleasure we feel in what is ours is less than the degree of irritation we feel at others' successes, then you must not only notice the splendid and pre-eminent features of the people you envy and admire, but you must also remove and draw aside the florid veil, so to speak, of their reputation and their façade, and get inside, where you will notice that they contain plenty of unsavoury features and plenty of unpleasantness. At any rate, something Pittacus said is instructive, since he is outstandingly famous for courage, wisdom and morality: he once had some friends round for dinner, and his wife burst in angrily and overturned the table; his friends were astounded, but he said, 'No one's life is perfect; anyone with only my troubles is very well off.'

'In public this man is an object of envy, but as soon as he opens the door of his home, he's in a pitiful state: his wife is in complete control, she bosses him about and argues all the time. He's got rather a lot of reasons to be miserable, whereas I've got none.' Plenty of these kinds of troubles accompany wealth, fame and kingship, but most people fail to notice them under the showy veneer. 'Son of Atreus, you are fortunate - your birth was favoured by fate and your destiny is to prosper': this kind of accolade is given for weaponry, horses and an extensive army, for external possessions, but from within come the contradictory emotional cries, bearing witness against this hollow fame - 'Zeus the son of Cronus has thoroughly imprisoned me in deep madness' and 'I envy you, old man, and I envy anyone whose life is at an end, if he has kept himself safe by avoiding recognition and fame.' Here is another point we should bear in mind, then, to enable us to carp less against fortune and to decrease the extent to which, by admiring our acquaintances' attributes, we belittle and denigrate our own.

Now, a major impediment to contentment is the failure to keep our desires furled or unfurled, so to speak, in a way which is commensurate with the prevailing potential. Instead, we give them too much slack through our hopes, and then when we fail, we blame fate and fortune, but not our own stupidity. We wouldn't describe as unfortunate anyone who wanted to shoot with his plough and hunt hares with his cow, nor would we say that anyone who fails to capture deer or boar with fishing-baskets or seines is being opposed by bad luck: it is stupidity and silliness which are setting him to impossible endeavours. The chief cause is in fact selflove, which makes people ambitious and competitive whatever the situation, and makes them greedily take on everything: they not only expect to be rich, erudite, strong, outgoing, pleasant and intimate with kings and leaders of nations, but they are discontented if their dogs, horses, quails and cocks are not the best at what they do.

Dionysius the Elder was not satisfied with being the most important tyrant of the time, but because his verse was worse than that of Philoxenus the poet, and he failed to do better than Plato at philosophical discussion, he got furiously angry - he imprisoned Philoxenus in the quarries, and he sent Plato to Aegina to be sold into slavery. Alexander was different: when the sprinter Crison was racing with him and gave the impression of deliberately slowing down, Alexander was very cross. And Achilles in the poem does well too: he starts off saying, 'None of the bronze-clad Achaeans is my equal', but goes on, 'in war; but there are those who are better in assembly.' On the other hand, when Megabyzus the Persian visited Apelles' studio and tried to start a conversation about art, Apelles shut him up by saying, 'As long as you kept quiet, you seemed to be someone because of your golden jewellery and purple-dyed clothes, but now even these lads here who grind the pigment are laughing at you for talking nonsense.'

Now, although people might think, when they hear the Stoic description of the sage not only as wise, moral and courageous, but also as an orator, poet and military commander, as possessing wealth and as a king, that they are joking, nevertheless they expect all these descriptions for themselves and are annoyed if they don't get them. Yet even different gods have different functions - one being called the god of battle, another the god of prophecy, another the god of profit; and Aphrodite is ordained by Zeus to preside over marriage and sex, precisely because her domain does not include military matters.

The point is that some pursuits inherently do not go together, but rather tend in opposite directions. For instance, rhetorical training and the acquisition of intellectual disciplines need freedom and no pressure, but political power and intimacy with kings do not accrue without one being busy and using up one's time. Moreover, 'drinking wine and overeating meat may make the body strong and robust, but they weaken the mind'; and whereas constant concern and care for money increase affluence, yet disdain and scorn for money constitute an important resource for philosophy. So not everything is for everyone: one should follow the Delphic inscription and know oneself, and then engage in the single activity for which one is naturally suited; and one should avoid forcibly and unnaturally compelling oneself to envy alternative ways of life - and different ones at different times. 'A horse is harnessed to a cart, an ox to a plough; a dolphin darts with great rapidity by a ship; and whoever plans death for a boar must find a courageous dog.'

Anyone, however, who is upset and distressed because he is not simultaneously a lion, 'mountain-reared, confident in his might', and a little Maltese dog protected in the lap of a widow, is crazy - but no crazier than anyone who wants to be Empedocles, Plato or Democritus, writing about the universe and the way things really are, and at the same time a Euphorion, with a rich older woman for a lover, or a Medius, hobnobbing with Alexander as one of his drinking companions, and gets irritated and distressed if he isn't an Ismenias, admired for his affluence, and an Epaminondas, admired for his goodness. I mean, runners aren't discontented because they don't win the wrestling competition: they find pride and satisfaction in their own prizes. 'You have obtained Sparta, so do it credit.' And, as Solon says, 'We will not exchange our virtue for their wealth, since the one is stable, but different people have money at different times.'

When Strato, the natural philosopher, was told that Menedemus' students far outnumbered his, he said, 'What else would you expect? There are bound to be more people who want to bathe than want to put oil on their bodies.' And Aristotle wrote to Antipater, 'The fact that Alexander rules over a lot of people does not make him the only one who can legitimately feel proud: anyone whose thinking about the gods is correct has just as much right.' The point is that people who value what they have, as in these stories, are not upset by whatever anyone else they come across has. But what happens at the moment is that although we do not expect a vine to produce figs or an olive to produce grapes, yet if we don't have the advantages of both plutocrats and scholars, military commanders and philosophers, flatterers and those who speak their minds, misers and big spenders, all at once, we bully ourselves, are dissatisfied with ourselves, and despise ourselves as living deficient and unfulfilled lives.

In addition, there are also clear reminders from nature. Different animals have been differently equipped by nature to provide for themselves: they have not all been made carnivores or seed-peckers or root-diggers. In the same way, nature has granted a wide variety of means of living to human beings - 'to shepherd, ploughman, bird-catcher and to the man whose livelihood comes from the sea'. What we should do, then, is choose what suits our specific natures, work at it and forget others' occupations; in other words, we should not show up any deficiency in Hesiod's assertion that 'Potter is jealous of potter, builder of builder.' I mean, people do not try to emulate only others with the same profession and same way of life; instead, rich men envy scholars and are in turn envied by famous people, while lawyers envy professional orators and - strange though it may seem - free men and aristocrats are utterly in awe of what they see as the happiness of comic actors in successful plays, and of dancers and servants in the royal courts. The result is that they distress and discompose themselves a great deal.

It is clear from the differences between people's experiences that everyone has within himself the resources which may lead to contentment or discontent - the jars of good and bad do not sit 'on Zeus's threshold', but lie in our minds. Foolish people overlook and ignore good things even when they are present, because their thoughts are always straining towards the future; intelligent people, on the other hand, use their memories to keep them vivid for themselves even when they are no longer present. Anything present is accessible for the minutest fraction of time and then escapes perception, and consequently foolish people think that it ceases to be relevant to us, or ceases to be ours. There is a painting of a man in Hades weaving a rope, who lets it out to a donkey at pasture, which eats up what he is weaving; in exactly the same way, most people succumb to blind, ungrateful oblivion, which consumes them and leaves no trace of any event, any moment of success, pleasant relaxation, interaction or delight.

This oblivion prevents life being a unity of past events woven with present ones: it divides yesterday from today, as if they were distinct, and likewise treats tomorrow as different from today, and it immediately consigns every occurrence to non-existence by never making use of memory. The school of thought which eliminates growth on the assumption that being is in constant flux makes each person, in theory, different from himself, and then different again; similarly, those who don't use memory to protect or recover what has gone before, but let it trickle away, day by day, make themselves in fact incomplete and empty and in suspense for the day to follow, as if the events of last year, the recent past and yesterday had no bearing on them or, in short, didn't happen to them.

So this is another thing that unsettles contentment, but not as much as the next factor we must consider. You know how when flies settle on mirrors, they skid off the smooth parts but cling on to places which are rough and scratched; this is an analogy for how people slide away from happy, congenial matters and get caught up in their memories of unpleasant things. An even better analogy might be based on the story that in Olynthus there is a place (called 'Beetle-death') which beetles fall into and are unable to get out of: they go round and round in circles until they die there. Likewise, without noticing it, people slip into recalling their bad times and are unwilling to revive or resuscitate themselves.

What we should do is treat the mind like a painting, and the events the mind recalls like the colours, and so give prominence to what is bright and vivid, and push anything gloomy into the obscurity of the background. I mean, it is impossible to eradicate and exclude the gloomy aspects altogether: 'The world is fitted together by interchange between opposites, as are a lyre and a bow', and nothing in human life is pure and unalloyed. In music there are low notes and high notes, and in grammar there are vowels and consonants, and musicianship and literacy do not come from disliking and avoiding one or the other extreme, but from knowing how to make use of them all, and how to blend them into an appropriate mixture. Events too contain polarity: as Euripides says, 'Good and bad are inseparable, but blending is possible, to make things fine.' So, to continue our simile, we should not get discontented or give up when faced with discrepancy, but should behave like expert musicians: if someone plays bad music, they lessen its impact by playing better music, and they enclose wrong notes within right ones. So we should make our life's mixture harmonious and congruent with ourselves.

I mean, Menander is wrong when he says, 'From the moment of birth onwards, everyone is attended by a deity, who is an excellent guide through the mysteries of life.' Empedocles is more likely to be right with his view that each of us has two destinies or deities, which take us in hand and into their power when we are born: 'Earth was there, and far-seeing Sun, bloody Discord and tranquil Harmony, Beauty and Ugliness, Speed and Slowness, fair Truth and dark-locked Doubt.' Consequently, since at birth we admitted, all together, the potential for each of these experiences, and since we therefore inherently contain plenty of inconsistencies, anyone with any sense prays for the better things, but expects the others as well, and copes with both sets by never behaving excessively. For, in the first place, as Epicurus says, 'Increased pleasure in approaching the future depends on decreased need of it'; and in the second place, increased enjoyment of wealth, fame, power and status depends on decreased dread of their opposites, in the sense that a strong desire for each of them instils a very strong fear of their departure, and so weakens and destabilizes the pleasure, as if it were a candle flame in a draught. Anyone whom rationality allows to stand up to fortune fearlessly and unflinchingly, and say, 'You are welcome if you bring a gift, and no great ordeal if you leave', is enabled by his courage and fearlessness (because he knows that its departure would not be unbearable) thoroughly to enjoy whatever his present situation is. When Anaxagoras' son died, he declared, 'I knew that I had fathered a mortal'; and it is possible not to stop at admiring his character, which enabled him to say this, but also to mirror him by saying, whenever fortune intrudes, 'I know that the wealth I have is transitory and unstable'; 'I know that I owe my position to people who have the power to remove it'; 'I know that although my wife is good, she is a woman, and that my friend is human - a member of an inherently inconstant species, as Plato remarked.'

The point is that, if anything happens which may be unwelcome, but is not unexpected, this kind of preparedness and character leaves no room for 'I couldn't have imagined it' and 'This isn't what I'd hoped for' and 'I didn't expect this', and so stops the heart lurching and beating fast and so on, and quickly settles derangement and disturbance back on to a foundation. Carneades used to remind people who were involved in important affairs that unexpectedness is the be-all and end-all of distress and discontent. Consider, for example, how much smaller the Macedonian kingdom was than the Roman empire. Nevertheless, when Perseus lost Macedonia, not only did he complain bitterly about his own destiny, but it was universally held that his misfortune and fate were worse than absolutely everyone else's; but when Aemilius (who had defeated Perseus) resigned from his position of controlling more or less all the lands and seas in the world, he was fêted and he performed sacrifices to the gods for his acknowledged happiness. There was a good reason for this: Aemilius had accepted a position knowing that he would one day pass it on, whereas Perseus had lost his position unexpectedly. Homer too makes some good points about what happens when things are unexpected: Odysseus wept when his dog greeted him, but sat down impassively next to his sobbing wife; the reason is that he reached his wife with his emotions tamed and controlled by rational foresight, but he fell into the other situation without anticipating it - its surprising nature made it come out of the blue.

To express the matter generally, while some unwelcome events do by their very nature entail distress and pain, nevertheless, where the majority of such events are concerned, it is our minds that condition and teach us to resent them. Therefore, when faced with this latter category of unwelcome events, it is useful always to have available Menander's line, which says, 'No experience is terrible unless you make it so.' He is implicitly asking the question: Unless your body or mind are actually affected, what difference does it make to you if, for example, your father was not an aristocrat, your wife is having an affair, you fail to win some prize or you lose your right to the front seats in the theatre? For these occurrences do not stop a man being in excellent physical or mental condition. And where the former events are concerned, the ones which do seem by their very nature to cause distress - such as illness, stress and a friend's or child's death - then there is Euripides' famous line: 'I say "Poor me!" - but why? I am only experiencing what it is to be human.' You see, no rational argument checks the downward slide of our emotions as well as one which reminds us that, in common with others and thanks to our nature, there are things which we cannot avoid; this necessity, which is due to corporeality, affords fortune its only hold on human beings; but corporeality is just one part of man's mixed nature, and in his most authoritative and important aspects he remains secure and stable.

When Demetrius had captured Megara, he asked Stilpo whether anything of his had been looted; Stilpo replied that he had seen nothing being carried off about which he would want to say 'mine'. So, if fortune steals and removes from us everything else, we still have something in us which is such that 'the Achaeans cannot carry or take it away'. It follows that we should not completely belittle and denigrate our nature as being weak, unstable and entirely subject to fortune; on the contrary, we know that the part of man which is flawed and unsound (and so liable to fortune) is small, and that we ourselves control the better part, which safely contains the most important of our benefits - correct beliefs, things we have learned and arguments conducive to goodness - which therefore subsist indelibly and indestructibly. If we are aware of this, the future doesn't dismay or terrify us and, where fortune is concerned, we say what Socrates said to the jurors (though he was apparently addressing his prosecutors) - that Anytus and Meletus can kill him, but not harm him.

The point is that fortune can make us fall ill, can deprive us of our wealth, can ruin our relationship with the people or the king, but it cannot make someone who is good, brave and high-minded into a bad, cowardly, mean-spirited, petty and spiteful person, and it cannot deprive us of the permanent presence of an attitude towards life which is a more helpful guide in this sphere than a helmsman is on a sea voyage. A helmsman is incapable of quelling a rough sea or the wind, and he cannot at will happen upon a safe harbour when he needs one, and he cannot endure whatever happens confidently and without flinching: as long as he doesn't give up, and relies on his skill, 'he escapes the hell-dark sea by reefing the mainsail right down to the bottom of the mast', but when the waves loom over him, he sits there quaking and trembling. On the other hand, a wise person's attitude calms the majority of physical matters, since his self-control, responsible regimen and moderate exercise get rid of the preconditions of illness; and if some external source of infection crops up, like the onset of a squall, then, in Asclepiades' words, 'he furls and lightens the sail, and rides it out'; and if some major unpredictable event overtakes and overwhelms him, the harbour is close by - he can swim away from the uncaulked hull of his body.

You see, it is not desire for life, but fear of death which makes an unintelligent person depend on his body and grasp on to it (one is reminded of how Odysseus' fear of Charybdis below him made him grasp on to the fig tree), 'when winds make both stopping and sailing impossible', and he is dissatisfied with one option and afraid of the other. However, anyone who has come, by whatever route, to understand the nature of the mind, and who appreciates that at death the change the mind undergoes is either for the better or at least not for the worse, is well equipped by this lack of fear of death to be content about his life. Anyone who can not only enjoy life when the pleasant and congenial aspect of it is uppermost, but who, when faced with an excess of events which are antipathetic and incongruent with his nature, can also depart without fear and with the words, 'The god himself will free me, when I will it' - well, it is inconceivable that such a man could be annoyed or angry or upset by anything that happened to him.

Whoever it was who said, 'Fortune, I have made a pre-emptive strike against you, and I have deprived you of every single loophole', was not basing his confidence on bolts, locks and fortifications, but on principles and arguments which are available to anyone who wants them. And this kind of argument should not induce any degree of resignation or disbelief, but admiration, emulation, enthusiasm, and investigation and observation of oneself in relatively trivial circumstances, to prepare oneself for the more important matters, so that one does not avoid them or divert one's mind from attention to them or take refuge in excuses like 'That's probably the most difficult thing I'll ever come across.' For if the mind is self-indulgent, and takes the easiest courses all the time, and retreats from unwelcome matters to what maximizes its pleasure, the consequence is weakness and feebleness born of lack of exertion; but a mind which trains and strains itself to use rationality to conceive an image of illness and pain and exile will find that there is plenty of unreality, superficiality and unsoundness in the apparent problems and horrors each of them has to offer, as detailed rational argument demonstrates.

Nevertheless, even the line of Menander which goes 'It is impossible for anyone still living to say, "That won't happen to me"' produces a shiver of fear in many people; but this is because they are unaware to what extent distress can be avoided by the beneficial practice of training oneself to gain the ability to look straight at fortune with open eyes, and not to form in oneself images which are 'soft and unweathered', like someone who has been brought up away from sunlight, in the shade of numerous hopes which constantly give way and provide no resistance against anything. However, we can also say the same thing as Menander - 'It is impossible for anyone still living to say, "That won't happen to me"' - but add that it is possible for anyone still living to say, 'Here's what I will not do: I will not lie, I will not mislead, I will not steal, I will not intrigue.' For this lies ready to hand, within our power, and its contribution towards contentment is not inconsiderable, but huge, since the alternative is for 'the realization of knowing that I have committed crimes' to mark the mind with remorse, which continually bleeds and stings like a bodily wound.

You see, while all other discomforts are eradicated by reason, it is reason itself which creates remorse, when the mind with its conscience is pricked and punished by itself. People who shiver from a chill or feel hot from a fever are more troubled and worse off than people who have the same sensations because of external heat or cold; likewise, chance events entail distress which is easier to endure, because it comes from an external source; but when 'What has happened to me is no one else's fault but my own' is the lament over one's mistakes, then because it comes from an internal source, from oneself, the result is a pain which one's sense of shame makes harder to bear. This is why a magnificent house, massive wealth, a splendid genealogy and high office, eloquence and fluency, are all incapable of giving life the degree of fair and calm weather that is afforded by a mind which is untainted by bad actions and intentions, and which bases life on a character that is calm and clear. A character like this is a fountain-head of fine achievements which entail not only present activity that is exuberant and happy and a source of pride, but also past memories that are more rewarding and secure than hopes which, as Pindar says, 'sustain one in old age'. Carneades said, 'Even if thuribles have been cleared out, they emit their scent for a long time.' And is it not the case that fine deeds leave behind in an intelligent person's mind an impression which remains pleasant and fresh, and thanks to which happiness is irrigated and thrives and he is enabled to rise above the level of those who moan and complain about life as being a vale of tears or a place designated for our soul's exile down here?

I like Diogenes' quip: once when he was visiting Sparta, he saw his host zealously getting ready for a festival day, and he said, 'Isn't it the mark of a good man to regard every day as a festival day?' And a particularly glorious festival too, if we see things aright. The world is a temple of the highest sacredness, and nowhere could be more suitable for divinity; and man is introduced into this world by means of his birth not to view manufactured, immobile images, but to gaze upon what Plato describes as the perceptible likenesses of intelligible things which divine intelligence has manifested as containers of an inherent principle of life and movement - the sun, moon and stars, the rivers with their continuous discharge of renewed water, and the earth with its supply of means of nourishment for plants and creatures. Life is an initiation into these things and there is no more perfect way to celebrate them; life, therefore, should be full of contentment and joy, and we should not make the usual mistake of waiting for occasional days like the holidays sacred to Cronus, Zeus or Athena for the opportunity to enjoy and revivify ourselves by paying mimes and dancers for bought entertainment.

Moreover, although we sit quietly and in good order on these occasions - for no one complains while he is being initiated or whinges while he is watching the Pythian Games or is drinking during the festival of Cronus - nevertheless, people bring shame on the festivals, which are arranged and conducted by God, by spending most of the rest of their time in complaints, despondency and exhausting worry. And although people enjoy listening to the delightful sounds of musical instruments and the singing of birds, and enjoy watching the play and frolics of animals, and conversely get perturbed when they growl and roar and look threatening, nevertheless when they see that their own lives are unsmiling, depressed and constantly constrained and restricted by disagreeable experiences and events and innumerable anxieties, they are unwilling to find some means of supplying themselves with recuperation and relaxation. But even when other people try to assist, they resist any argument which could help them come to terms with their current situation without finding fault with it, remember the past without ingratitude and approach the future happily and optimistically, without fear and without apprehension.

企鹅口袋书系列 · 伟大的思想

论人类认识之盲点

（英汉双语）

[美]威廉 · 詹姆斯　著

郝瑞丽　谢　芹　孙晓磊　译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

论人类认识之盲点：英汉双语／（美）詹姆斯著；郝瑞丽，谢芹，孙晓磊译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2012.9（企鹅口袋书系列 · 伟大的思想）

ISBN978-7-5001-3328-5

Ⅰ．①论… Ⅱ．①詹…②郝…③谢…④孙… Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物②詹姆斯，W．（1842~1910）—哲学思想 Ⅳ．①H319.4:B

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2012）第104193号

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This selection first published in Penguin Books 2009

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观念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可 · 波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯 · 潘恩《常识》或约翰 · 罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利 · 梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯 · 潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯 · 达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当 · 斯密或阿图尔 · 叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔 · 普鲁斯特承认受约翰 · 罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔 · 德 · 蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙 · 温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non- fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

目 录

观念

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读

论人类认识之盲点

印度的老虎

人生值得过吗？

实用主义的含义

一些从实用主义考量的形而上学的问题

On a Certain Blindness in Human Beings

The Tigers in India

Is Life Worth Living?

What Pragmatism Means

Some Metaphysical Problems Pragmatically Considered

返回总目录

译者导读

威廉 · 詹姆斯（William James，1842-1910）出生于纽约上层知识分子家庭。祖父因开发伊利运河成为富豪；父亲是当时的著名学者；弟弟亨利 · 詹姆斯开创了西方现代心理分析小说和现实主义小说的先河，成为美国乃至世界文学史上的大文豪；被誉为“美国文明之父”的拉尔夫 · 沃尔多 · 爱默生则是他的教父。

威廉 · 詹姆斯于1864年进入哈佛大学医学院学习，1869年获医学博士学位，但就像他自己说的那样，“最初，为了成为一名生理学家，我选择了医学；但是，冥冥中，命运却把心理学和哲学带到了我面前。”他是美国第一位哲学家和心理学家、美国机能主义心理学派创始人之一；同时，他也是教育学家和实用主义的倡导者。他的著作主要集中在实用主义、心理学、教育心理学、宗教心理学和神秘主义等领域。

威廉 · 詹姆斯的实用主义哲学思想得益于C.S.皮尔斯。在1907年出版的《实用主义：旧的思维方法之新名称》中，詹姆斯扩展了皮尔斯的实用主义，使之更加体系化。詹姆斯的实用主义主要从心理学和伦理学上考察价值、评价和满意等问题，其内容涉及真理、宗教信仰和道德等领域。同时，他的实用主义还作为方法论来解决当时思想界的热点争论。本书所选几篇文章从不同角度阐述了詹姆斯的实用主义观点。

《论人类认识之盲点》一文阐述了詹姆斯的“价值”观和“真理”观。他认为事物的价值依赖于这些事物在人们心中唤起的感觉，真理存在于对事物有切身体会的被观察者心中，观察者的结论和事物的本质往往不符。例如：对于北卡莱罗纳山区的景象，对于公牛眼灯，对于华兹华斯和雪莱诗中的自然形式，以及惠特曼诗中的普通生活场景等等，旁观者都无法体会身临其境者心中的真实感受，即观察者无法了解这些事物在被观察者心中的价值。

《印度的老虎》一文指出“概念”或“表象性”是我们了解世间事物的最重要的方法，而直觉观察在了解事物方面的作用是极其有限的，比如对“印度的老虎”的了解。虽然我们可能没有真正见过“印度的老虎”，但是，我们可以利用世间已有的对老虎认识的“经验”指引我们的思想，从而达到认识和了解“印度的老虎”的目的。

《人生值得过吗？》一文通过介绍如何劝阻有自杀倾向的人来阐述生命的价值和意义。他认为劝阻自杀的真正有效的方法是：经过深思，使其建立“信念”。人生是否值得过，取决于我们每一个“生活者”的“信念”，在于坚持相信这个世界不是“最终的”，相信可以在自己意识中的“另外一个更大的世界”中找到一个真正的“心灵源泉”，一个自己存在和奋斗的价值所在。

《实用主义的定义》一文指出了实用主义能化解矛盾、平息争论的秘诀，即“尽可能地通过锁定每种观点带来的实际后果来解读它们”。这一原理还用于分析当时正进行得如火如荼的“真理之争”，并有效地协调了人类的经验认识与宗教信仰之间的关系。

《一些从实用主义考量的形而上学的问题》是用实用主义的视角尝试突破“有神论”与“物质论”的争议。在威廉看来，任何一种假设下，实际体验的世界具有一样的细节。实用主义“展望未来”的依据是不折不扣的实用价值。

詹姆斯不仅是理论界和思想界的巨人，而且具有极高的文学修养。他的文章风格十分引人入胜。这本小册子的翻译和阅读过程可谓享受了一场思想和语言的饕餮盛宴，止笔之余，仍回味无穷。

论人类认识之盲点

我们对于事物价值的判断，无论大小，依赖于这些事物在我们心中唤起的感觉。我们从事物中构架思想，并据此判断它是否有价值，而这恰恰是因为思想和情感紧密相连。如果我们毫无情感，如果我们的头脑只能承载思想，那么我们就会在瞬间失去我们所有的喜好和厌恶之情，并因此无法指出生活情景或经历的价值或意义。

本文所论及的人类之盲点是指我们对其他生灵情感的无知，对相异于我们的人们的情感的茫然。对于这一盲点，我们都深受其害。

我们是注重实际的生物。我们每个人的作用有限，所承担的义务亦有限。每个人都会强烈地体会到自身义务的重要性，以及产生这些义务的条件的重大意义。但是这一体会在我们每一个人的心中都是绝密，因为当我们带着同情心去看他人的时候，我们感到是这样的徒劳。别人太专注于他们心中的绝密之事，以至于对于我们的内心世界毫无兴趣。因此，当我们去观察陌生的生活方式的时候，我们的观点是这样的愚蠢且偏颇；当我们冒昧地去评定其他人的生活状况及其思想价值的时候，我们的判断又是如此的远离现实。

以我们和狗为例。我们和狗之间的关系比世界上绝大部分的关系都更加亲密。然而，除掉这条友好和钟爱的纽带，对于在狗的生活中什么意义重大的事情，我们是多么的无知啊！——栅栏下找着骨头时的喜悦，树木和灯杆的气味，所有这一切，我们毫无感觉；这正如它们对于文学和艺术的乐趣一无所知。当你坐在那里全神贯注的读着你所遇到的最感人的传奇故事的时候，你的猎狐犬能对你的行为作何判断呢？尽管它对你满怀友爱之情，你的行为完全超出了它理解的范围。它一定在想：你为什么要像一个毫无感觉的雕像那样坐在那里，这个时候，你本来应该带它去散步或者抛棍子让它抓着玩的。你每天得了什么怪病？为什么拿着一些东西，一动不动地，毫无知觉地连续几个小时盯着看？非洲野人的想法更加接近事实，却也同样失之毫厘，谬以千里。我们的一位美国游客在非洲发现了纽约《商业广告者》的几张散页，并如饥似渴的一栏一栏阅读起来。一群非洲黑人围在他的四周，等他读完后高价收买了这个神秘的东西。当被问及为什么要买它的时候，他们的回答是“作眼药用，”——对于他把眼睛在这个东西的表面上长时间停留的事实，“作眼药用”是他们能想到的唯一解释。

观察者的判断当然和事物的本质不符，也就毫无真理可言。被判断的主体了解事实的一部分，而这一部分观察者没有认识到；被观察者了解的多，而观察者知之甚少；而且只要是存在观点冲突或视野差异之处，我们都一定会相信感知多的一方必然比感知少的一方更接近真理。

拿我个人的一段经历为例，而这类事情每天都有可能发生在我们每个人的身上：

几年前，在北卡罗来纳州山区旅行时，我经过了一些当地人叫做“山湾”的地方，或者说是两座小山之间的峡谷的前部。这些峡谷刚刚被开垦并种上庄稼。这个地方在我头脑中留下了十足的丑陋不堪的印象。居住者把那些能砍断的树统统砍断，之后，让烧焦的树桩兀自立在那里；对于那些大得砍不动的树，他采取拦腰围绳的方法将其杀死，目的是不让它们的叶子隔断阳光；他建起了木屋，并用黏土涂抹墙上的缝隙。为了把猪和牲畜挡在外面，他还在惨遭破坏的场地的周围修建了高高的之字形的篱笆；最后，他在树桩和树之间不规则地种了些印第安玉米。他和他的妻儿就住在这里——一把斧子，一把枪，一些器具，一些喂养在树林里的猪和鸡，这些就是他全部的财产。

森林被破坏了。人类“改善”了它原始的状态，却留下了丑陋的一幕，就像是森林得了溃疡。没有任何人工的优雅来弥补自然美的消逝。事实上，这些开垦者的生活是丑陋的，是水手所描述的在没有帆的桅杆下顺风航行的原始状态。他们又回到了到这儿来的我们的第一批祖先的生活状态，中间几代人努力的成就对于他们的生活没有丝毫的意义。

要谈一谈回归自然！驶过这凄凉的一幕，我心情沉闷地对自己如是说。为后代，为自己垂垂老时，可以谈论美好的乡村生活！绝不能徒手开垦荒凉的土地！绝对不能不融入文化的成果！人类几个世纪积累的美丽和成就是神圣的。这些是我们的遗产，是我们生而享有的权利。没有一个现代人会愿意生活在这种原始地，赤裸裸地掠夺自然的状态。

然后，我对为我开车的山里人说：“这些新的开垦者是什么样的人？”“所有人，”他回答说，“如果我们不开垦这里的一个山坳，我们就不会幸福。”我突然间意识到我原来忽略了眼前的形势和其内在意义。对于我来说，砍伐这件事情除了是对大自然的掠夺外，别无其他的意义可言；所以，我想对于那些健壮的臂膀和无知的斧头来说，眼前的这一切同样没有其他意义可言。但是，当他们看到那些隐藏的树桩的时候，他们所想到的是个人的胜利。那些被开垦出来的小片的土地，那些被拦腰围死的树，那些丑陋的篱笆墙，所有的这一切都诉说着诚实的汗水、不懈的劳作和最终的收获。木屋是保护自己和妻儿安全的保护神。简而言之，在我的眼睛里，砍伐所带来的只是一张丑陋的图片；而对于他们来说，却充满着道德的记忆，唱响了一曲责任、奋斗和成功之歌。

对于他们赖以生存的环境在他们头脑中的反应，我是如此的盲目；而如果他们去剑桥哪怕只是瞥一眼我所进行的奇怪的室内学术生活方式，他们就会发现，对于我的思想意识，他们一样无知。

一种生活方式会让生活其中的人感到对生活的热望，这就是生活的真正意义。这种热望有时和机车活动交织在一起，有时和人们的洞察力相随，有时和想象齐飞，又有时安居于善于思考的头脑中。但是，无论热望存在于何方，总有对现实的热爱、激动和兴奋。而生活“重要”的、真正的、积极的意义便在于这种重要无时不在，无处不存。

罗伯特 · 路易斯 · 斯蒂芬已经运用想象领域中的一个例子解释了这一点。这个例子摘自一篇杂文，而我认为这篇文章无论是从其优美的形式上还是从其具有真理性的内容上，都是不朽的杰作。

“九月末的时候，”斯蒂芬写道，“放学的时间到了，天已经黑了。这个时候，我们从各自的家里出发，每人拿着一个锡制的、公牛眼形状的灯。这种灯在那个年代十分有名，在英国的商业界也算是名垂青史了。杂货商们在适当的时候用某种品牌的灯装饰他们的窗户。我们用板球带把这些灯别在腰上，然后在上面穿一件带扣的轻薄大衣，这是整个游戏要求严格的地方。它们散发着难闻的锡泡味。它们从来不能正常燃烧，然而有时却会烧到我们的手指头。它们毫无用处，拥有它们的快乐完全来自于想象。而一个男孩如果在他的大衣下面有了一盏公牛眼灯，就别无所求了。渔人用灯照亮他们的船，我想我们可能是从他们那里得到了启示；但是，他们的灯不是公牛眼灯，我们也从来不做装成渔人的游戏。警察在腰上别着灯，在拿灯方式上，我们肯定是在模仿他们，但是我们并不假扮警察。实际上，我们可能隐隐约约想到了夜盗。我们十分偏爱过去那些灯很常见的年代，对那些灯起着很重要作用的故事，我们也情有独钟。但是，总而言之，事情本身的快乐是最重要的。一个男孩，在他的大衣下有一盏公牛眼灯，这一切就已经足够好了。

“两个小伙子相遇的时候，总是会急切地问：‘你有灯吗？’然后是自满的回答：‘有！’这是他们之间十分必要的考验用词。因为，不炫耀我们的财富是我们的规则，所以，如果不是像臭鼬一样去闻出气味，没有人知道一个人拿着那种公牛眼灯。有时候，四五个人会爬进可以盛十个人的小帆船里，船上除了有根横梁外，什么都没有，船舱门通常是锁着的；或者，选择高尔夫球场上一块风可以从上面吹来的空地。然后，大衣的扣子就会被打开，公牛眼灯就会赫然出现。在变化的微光中，在有风吹来的地方，在黑夜巨大的夜幕下，这些幸运的年轻绅士们沉浸在一连串热烘烘的，像烤箱似的锡制品所带来的快乐中。他们一起蹲在高尔夫球场冰冷的沙上，或者斑驳的船舱底部，并且用不合时宜的谈话自得其乐。我很痛苦，因为我不能融入其中！……对于这些拿灯者来说，谈话只是调味，聚会也是偶然。快乐的本源在于，在黑夜中独行，所有的灯光都关闭，大衣紧扣，不让一丝光线逃逸，哪怕是为了引导你脚步或者向公众炫耀，——你只是黑暗中的一个黑柱；突然，在你像白痴一样单纯的，隐藏隐私的内心最深处，你知道在你的腰带上有个公牛眼灯，并且，你为认识到这一点而狂喜，歌唱。

“据说，一位年轻的诗人死于最冷漠的胸膛。一个吟游诗人（不太有名的）在任何情况下都可以幸存，并且他只不过是他主人的调味品。这种说法不禁让人心生异议。在这里，诗人的多才多艺和像孩子般无比单纯的想象没有得到应有的重视。他的生活，从表面看来，只不过是一个粗糙的土堆；但是，在这个土堆的中心却有一个金子般富丽堂皇的房间，诗人就满心欢喜地住在这个房间里；在别人看来，他的路途是黑暗的，但是只有他自己知道，在他的腰带上，他有一盏‘公牛眼灯’。

……“有一则寓言十分接近生活的本质，——寓言中，有一个和尚进入到一个树林中，听到一只鸟突然放声歌唱，他站在那里听鸟儿啼叫了一两声，然后就回到寺院，在寺院门口见到一个陌生人；事实上，从他离开寺院，五十年已经过去了，在他所有还活着的同伴当中，只有一个人认出了他。虽然，树林是巫师居住的地方，但是，他并不只在这里歌唱。在所有最悲伤的地方，他都会引吭。悲伤的人听到他的歌声会咯咯发笑，然后，他长长的日子就缩短成美妙的几刻。无需其他，仅用一盏气味糟糕的灯，我就可以把他从赤裸的沙滩上唤醒。所有的生活都由两缕线编成，除非这生活是机械的，——一缕是寻找那只鸟，另一缕是听他歌唱。正是因为这一点，人们很难去珍惜生活，每一个人的快乐也很难与人共享。认识到这一点，并且记住鸟儿对我们歌唱的幸福时刻；从此，我们对生活充满了憧憬，尤其当我们面对现实的时候。诚然，在我们头脑中，现实的图画只有肮脏的泥泞，陈旧的铁器，廉价的欲望和恐惧；所有的这一切，我们耻于记忆，并不在乎是否会遗忘。但是，夜莺的歌声吞噬了悲伤的时光，却同样没有带来任何新的意义。

……“让我们回到现实的故事中，看一看我所提到的那些沙滩上的拿灯者：在我们的描述中，他们很冷，被阵阵冷雨包围着，他们周围的一切沉闷无趣，他们的谈话亦愚蠢而粗鄙，事实确实和我的描述别无二致。在旁观者看来，他们浑身湿冷，而且周围的环境也沉闷无趣；但是，如果问他们自己，他们却沉浸在无边的欢乐中，而欢乐的源泉就是那一盏难闻的灯。

“在此重申一下，一个人快乐的根基确实有点难以捉摸。有时，快乐只是一件饰品，比如那盏灯；有时，它又居于神秘的心灵最深处……它和外在的事物几乎毫无联系……它甚至接触不到外面的世界，它和拥有它的人的生活一起存在于幻想的领地里。……诗，就是在这样快乐的境界里，暗流涌动。旁观者（只是拥有文本的可怜的灵魂）都是局外人。因为观察诗人就是对被骗的追求。我们可以看到他所汲取营养的树干；但是，他本人却高高在上，在如盖的绿叶中，而那里对我们来说，陌生如异域；在那里，风在他耳畔轻吟，夜莺的歌声伴他入睡。真正的现实主义是诗人的现实主义，它像松鼠一样悄悄跟着诗人攀爬，并且瞥见了诗人所居住的天堂的模样。无时无地，现实主义是诗人的现实主义：在诗人这里，它找到了快乐的源泉，并且用比歌声还美妙的声音将它吟诵。

“错过了快乐就是错过了一切，所以，行动的全部意义就在于行动者的快乐。快乐是原因，快乐是借口。对于那些不知道灯的秘密的人来说，沙滩上的一幕是没有任何意义的。现实书籍的内容在某些人看来不真实得有点像幽灵，这也正是由于他们对于其中的秘密一无所知……在每一种无知的境况中，我们都错过了属于一个人自己的诗，错过了被赋予了魅力的氛围，错过了想象的五彩斑斓的佳作，而正是想象给赤裸者以华衣，赋卑贱者以高贵；在每一种无知中，生命就像死面团一样死去，在这里它不能像气球一样冲着日落的斑斓高升；每一种无知都是事实，每一种无知都缺乏想象；但是，人类不是生活在油盐酱醋的外在物质现实中，他生活在存在于他的头脑当中的居室里，这个居室是由幻想建造的，温暖无比，并且有彩色的窗户和贴满历史名画的墙壁。”

这些段落是我所知的斯蒂芬最好的作品。“错过快乐就是错过一切。”确实如此。但是，我们每一个人的认识是有限的。每一个人只能有一个专属于他个人的职业。事实看来似乎是要想获得服务于某种特定任务的能量，必须对异己的所有事物变得冷漠。我们只能拥有某种快乐。面对除此之外的其他事物，我们毫无生气，这是我们作为现实的生物所必须付出的代价。只有在某些让人同情的梦想家那里，某些哲学家，诗人，或传奇小说作家那里，或者当普通的现实人坠入爱河的时候，这种冰冷的现实才会屈服。一缕探究的光线射进活力四射的世界，克利福德如是说，射进超越我们自身的，和外部表象全然不同的，广阔无边的内心世界，并照亮我们的心灵。然后，我们整个传统的价值观模式被打乱，我们的自我被撕裂，它狭隘的兴趣变得支离破碎，然后必须重新建立一个新的中心，一种新的观点。

对于这种变化，我的同事，约西亚 · 罗伊斯做了巧妙的描述：

“那么，我们的邻居是什么？你认为他的思想和感觉在某种程度上和你的不同。你曾经说过：‘他的痛苦和我的不一样，看起来，他的痛苦要容易承受得多。’在你看来，他不如你有生气；他的生活晦暗而冰冷，在熊熊燃烧的欲望之火旁边，他的火焰看起来那么苍白……所以，你仅仅是因为上天的安排才和你的邻居住在一起，并为此感到心情沮丧。你不了解你的邻居，而这是源于你自己的无知。你把他当成了一样东西，而不是有着‘自我’的人。这就是解释，然后就可以据此得知事情的真相。在所有的地方，痛苦就是痛苦，快乐就是快乐，甚至就像是在你的身上。在森林中的鸟儿所有的歌唱里；在俘获者的威力下挣扎的伤者和垂死者的呻吟里；在无数水中生物挣扎并最终死去的无边无际的海洋里；在无数群的野人中；在所有的病痛和悲伤中；在所有的狂喜和希望里；在所有的地方，从最卑贱一直到最高贵，都有生命之火在熊熊燃烧，同样的坚强且充满智慧；这生命之火就像无穷无尽的物种形式一样绵延不绝，像太阳之火一样无法熄灭，像你自己的小心脏中跳动的脉搏那样真实。你通常的做法是：睁开你的双眼，看看这生命之火，然后转身离去，尽你可能去忘记；但是，如果你已经认识到这一点，你就已经开始知道你的责任了。”

我们以一种死气沉沉的方式，在外部事物中发现一种内在的意义。这是更高层次的洞察，也只有用这种洞察，我们才能获取其内在意义。这种洞察力往往可以被一个人突然获得，然后，那一刻在他的生命历程中具有划时代的意义。就像爱默生所说的一样，某些时刻让我们觉得它们比其他任何时候的经历都更加真实。在这些时刻中，总有某种深意存在。爱的激情可以像爆炸一样震撼一个人，或者一个动作就可以驱走萦绕心头的懊悔阴云。

我们通常在非人类的自然事物的身上发现隐藏意义中的神秘意识。下面这段摘自《奥博曼》，一本当年很流行的法国小说：“巴黎，三月七号。——天黑而冷。我神情忧郁地走着，因为我无事可做。我路过一些花儿，花儿别在墙上和胸差不多高的地方。其中有一朵盛开的黄水仙。它是欲望的最强烈的表达，是一年中的第一缕香味。我感到了专属人类的幸福。那种灵魂的和谐感，理想世界的不真实感在我心中油然而生。我的感觉从来没有如此强烈，如此迅速。我不知道是形状，是某种相似，还是某种神秘的联系，让我在这朵花的身上看到了无限的美……我不会把这种无法表述的力量局限在某个概念里；不会限制这种无法被任何东西所包含的形式；亦不会遏制对于一个更美好的理想世界的向往。这个世界人们可以感受得到，但却它并非自然所创造。”

华兹华斯和雪莱就完全可以感受自然界事物这种无限的意义。在华兹华斯那里，这种感受带点朴素和道德的意味——一种“孤独的欢乐。”

对于每一种自然的形式：岩石，果实，或花朵，

甚至，覆盖在高速路上的松散石子，

我都赋予道德的含义：我看到了它们的感受，

或者说是把它们和某种感受联系起来：万物

都嵌在了活跃的灵魂里，所有，

我所看到的所有的体内都呼吸着意义的气息。

“看不见的事物的真实的消息！”只是，自然中这种隐藏的所在是什么？华兹华斯为之感到狂喜，而且他一直生活在这隐藏的东西的光环下。一连几天，踏遍所有的山丘，诗人依旧不能用逻辑的思维和清晰的概念去解释这被隐藏的到底是什么。但是，对于那些自己也曾有过类似的灵感闪光时刻的读者来说，在那些华兹华斯只是表白了感觉的诗里，已经有了慰藉心灵的威力：

壮丽

壮观而让人难忘的清晨升起了，

辉煌的景象和我以前看到的，一模一样。

前面远方，大海躺在那里笑着；

近处，坚实的大山闪耀着光芒，

浸染着谷物的美色，在天空的亮光中，

如云朵般明亮；

在草坪和低地上，到处都是黎明的甜蜜模样，

露珠，晨雾，鸟儿鸣叫的旋律，

还有在前往耕地途中的劳动者。

啊！亲爱的朋友，我的心满盈着幸福；

我无须许愿，但愿望已满心田；

我应该是一个专注的灵魂，

否则就会恶贯满盈，

这是早已定下的约定，

而我，却一无所知。

我继续走着，

心中的虔诚和祝福一直到永远。

华兹华斯信步走着，心里充满了奇异的欢乐，这就是他对周围自然界中神秘所在的反应。他的乡村邻居只紧紧专注于自身的事务，他们的庄稼，羊群和篱笆。在他们看来，华兹华斯所做的事情是多么的愚蠢且无关紧要。他们当中的任何人都不曾想过他的内心在想什么，他的思想有什么价值。然而，事实是他的思想承载着厚重的意义，这些意义丰富了别人的灵魂，至今，都让他们的内心充满了愉悦之情。

罗伯特 · 杰弗里斯曾经写过一篇杰出的自传式文章，叫作《我心灵的故事》。文章中的好几页都讲述了大自然的意义所赋予他心灵的那种狂喜。在一个山顶上他说道：

“我和太阳、大地独处，而且绝对只有我自己。躺在草地上，我的灵魂对大地，对太阳，对空气，对遥远的大海，对远的看不见的……窃窃私语。强烈的情感让我兴奋，我和大地、太阳、天空，被白天的强光遮掩的星星，以及大海亲密交流，——这些感觉令人震撼的深度无法用言语表述。心里怀着这些感觉，我虔诚祈祷，就像它们是某个器具的密钥……伟大的、燃烧着火与光的太阳，强健的、亲爱的大地，温暖的天空，纯净的空气，海洋的思想，所有无法言语的美丽让我着迷，让我狂喜，给我灵感。带着这份灵感，我祈祷着……这种用灵魂和感情所做的祈祷仅仅在于祈祷，它不是为了具体的目标：它是一种激情。我把脸埋在草丛里。在与自然的角斗中，我彻底地臣服，甚至迷失了自己。我感到着迷且激动不已……如果哪位牧羊人看到我躺在草地上，他一定在想我只是休息几分钟。我没有做出任何外部的表现。谁能想到，当我躺在那里的时候，我的内心如何激情澎湃！”

诚然，如果用普通的商业价值标准来衡量，生命中这样度过的一小时毫无价值。但是，如果一小时的宝贵价值由一种标准确定了，它又怎么可能由另一种价值来决定呢？除非这种价值和感觉有关。这些感觉因为被激发而重要，它们被那一小时的世界激活，产生于某人的体内。

现实利益世界的喧嚣让我们变得对其他的事物视而不见或冷漠至极。如果有人希望去理解和个人无关的价值世界，并以更宽广的客观标准来理解生活的意义，他就似乎很有必要首先变成对于现实来说毫无价值的东西。只有你的神秘，你的梦想者的状态，你为之倾家荡产的流浪，才能让你获得这样一个引发人们同情的职业。这个职业改变了普通的人类价值的标准，给愚者而不是权威者一席之地，这个职业瞬间降低了人与人之间的差别，而这个差别是一个传统意义上的人用一生的辛苦来建立的。在这种职业里，你可能会是一个预言家，但，绝对不会获得世俗意义上的成功。

比如，我们很多人都认为沃尔特 · 惠特曼是现代预言家。他消除了人与人之间的普通意义上的差别，解决了所有传统中存在的问题。除了为人类这个物种所共有的最基本的品质外，他不爱也不去庆祝其他的任何特点。正是由于这一点，他变成了不折不扣的流浪者。他坐在公共汽车顶上或渡船上流浪。无论是从现实的角度，还是学术的角度，他都毫无价值，且一事无成。他的诗只不过是信口胡言——没有主语，没有动词的一堆东西——，是长篇累牍的感叹。他看到人民大众时的狂喜犹如华兹华斯看到了山川。他觉得人民大众的重要性压倒一切。他用这些思想来吸引人的头脑，而这些头脑如果不是因为受到他的思想的影响，会认为俗务对他们来说已经有足够的价值了。当他横渡布鲁克林渡口的时候，他这样感觉：

在我下面的浪潮呀，我面对面地看着你哟！

西边的云——那里已经升起了半小时的太阳——我也面对面地看着你呀！

穿着普通衣服的成群男女哟，在我看来，你们是如此的新奇呀！

在渡船上有着成百上千的人渡船回家，在我看来，这些人比你们所想象的还要新奇，

而你们，多年以后将从此岸渡到彼岸的人，也不会想到我对于你们是这样关切，这样地默念着你们。

别人将进入渡口的大门，并从此岸渡到彼岸，

别人将注视着浪潮的汹涌，

别人将看到曼哈顿西面北面的船舶，和东面南面布鲁克林的高处，

别人将看见大大小小的岛屿；

五十年后别人横渡的时候将看见它们，那时太阳才升起了半小时，

一百年以后或若干百年以后，别的人将看见它们，

将欣赏日落，欣赏波涛汹涌的涨潮，和奔流入海的退潮。

时间或空间，那是无碍的，——距离也是无碍的，

我和你们一起，你们一世代或者今后若干世代的男人和女人，

恰如你们眺望着这河流和天空时所感觉到的，我也曾如此感觉过，

恰如你们之中任何人都是活着的人群中的一个，我也曾是人群中的一个，

恰如河上的风光与晶莹的流水使你们心旷神怡，我也曾感觉过心旷神怡，

恰如你们此时凭栏站立，而又在随着急流匆匆前进，我也曾站立过匆匆前进，

恰如你们此时眺望着木船的无数的桅杆，还有汽船，我也曾眺望过。

我以前也曾多次横渡过这条河流，

注视着十二月的海鸥，看它们在高空中凝翅浮动，摇动它们的身体，

看着灿烂的黄光如何照出它们身躯的一部分，而把其余的部分留在浓重的阴影里，

看着它们悠缓迂回的飞行，然后渐渐地侧着身子向南方飞去。

看着双桅船和划子的白帆，看着船舶下锚，

水手们拉着大索，或者跨过甲板，

圆形的桅杆，摆动着的船身，细长蜿蜒的船旗，

开动着的大大小小的汽船，在领港室里的领港员，

船过后留下的白色的浪花，轮轴的迅速转动，

各国的国旗，在日暮时候降落，

黄昏时海上扇形的，如带匙之杯的浪涛，嬉戏而闪耀着的浪头，

远远的一片陆地，显得更朦胧了，码头边花岗石仓库的灰色的墙垣，

在临近的岸上铸造厂的烟囱，火光喷得很高，在黑夜中闪耀着，

在强烈的红光和黄光之中，把阵阵的黑烟喷射到屋顶上，并落到街头上。

这些和那些，对我和对你们都一样。［1］

惠特曼通过这篇神奇而美丽的诗篇表达了他的感受。这位头发花白的流浪者认为什么是充分利用生活中天赐良机的最好方式呢？想知道这一点，请阅读下面他给一位年轻的汽车司机所写的美文。值得一提的是这位汽车司机成为了他的好朋友：

纽约市，10月9日，1868年

“亲爱的皮特，——今天上午的时光很美妙——明亮而清凉。我一早出来在河边稍稍散散步，这条河离我的住所只有两个街区……我要不要和你谈论一下我的生活？仅仅为填补一下你的空白时光。上午的时候，我一般情况下是坐在屋子里写作，等等，然后洗个澡以重振精神，大概十二点的时候出去，四处逛逛，或者到市区拜访某人，或者做些正事，或者，如果心情不错的话，我会和百老汇的一些赶马车的朋友从23号街驱车到鲍灵格林，单程是三英里。（每天我都发现我有足够的事情要做，我的每一个小时都被某件事情占据着。）在一个愉快的午后，在一驾百老汇的马车上这样驾驶几个小时，你知道，对于我来说这些是永无止境的娱乐、学习和放松。当你经过的时候，你看到了所有的一切，一种生活方式，无穷无尽的生活全景图——商店、富丽堂皇的建筑和巨大的窗户：在宽阔的人行道上，一群群着装华丽的女士经过，风格优雅，容貌美丽，与其他地方所见甚是不同——实际上是一群完美的人——男人们着装也很高贵，还有很多的外国人——街上是成堆的四轮马车、旅馆和私人长途车，各式各样的交通工具，很多都是一流的，一英里接着一英里，所有的一切构成了这条华丽的街道。还有很多高大、宏伟、装饰美丽的建筑，很多都是大理石的，每一面都显得美丽而富有动感：你一定想知道，在一个美丽的日子里，所有的这一切对于我这样的一个流浪者有着怎样的魅力。看着忙碌的世界在我身边移动，为了我的乐趣展示它自己，而我却放松地、享受地、看着这一切，用心观察。”

你们当中的一些人可能会说，这种度过时间的方式太浪费了，对于一个成年人来说，实在不值得称赞。但是，从最深层的观点来说，谁知道的真理更多，谁又知道的更少呢？——惠特曼坐在公共汽车的顶上，内心充满了这些壮观的场面所给予他的欢乐；而你，对于他的毫无收获的职业却充满了蔑视。

普通布鲁克林人或纽约人的生活充满了太多的奢侈，他们为了个人俗务而劳累，而忧心忡忡。当他们横渡渡口或经过百老汇的时候，他们的想象不会像惠特曼的那样直冲云霄，充满日落时的斑斓色彩；他们也从来不会想到，在他们的眼睛不经意滑过的视野里存在着最根本的神性和最永久的意义。那里是生，而一步之遥便是死。那里有有史以来唯一的美。那里有人类古老的奋斗和成就并存。在那里，文本和启示同在，现实和理想并存。但是，对于疲倦而迟钝的眼睛来说，这里只是死般的沉寂，彻底的粗俗，单调而让人生厌。“唉！这景象让人悲伤！”卡莱尔在夜间和人一起走时说，这人吸引他去注意星星的魅力。那些让惠特曼的内心充满神秘的满足感的景象，在无穷的宇宙里还会对一代又一代的新人重复；那些让他欣喜的普通规则还会永远重复。所有的这一切对于叔本华来说只是“糟糕的内心的空虚”。他带着这种空虚看世界，空虚是世界的最主要的元素。叔本华问道，除了重复同样愚蠢的言行，除了同一只狗的叫声，除了同一只苍蝇的嗡嗡声，生活在广阔天地间的还能是什么？但是组成这些愚蠢言行的纤维，却是用所有的兴奋，快乐，和生活的意义编织而成的，而且在这个世界上会永远如此。

像惠特曼一样仅仅因为看到世界的美景感到满足而欣喜是生活的一种方式，而且是最基本的方式。在这种方式里，他承认自己意识到了这个世界深不可测的重要性和意义。但是，如果一个人不开始一段经历，他怎么可能感受得到这段经历的重要意义呢？没有现成的路途可以追寻。这种秘密而神秘的感觉总是不期而至。有时候它在坟墓里开花，而这个坟墓里埋藏着我们的幸福。本韦努托 · 切利尼在经历了充满冒险和艺术刺激的阳光地带后，突然发现他被投到了圣安吉洛一个城堡的地窖里。那是个恐怖的地方。老鼠满地，潮湿，发霉。他的腿断了，牙齿掉了，显然，受尽了非人的折磨。但是他的思想却前所未有地转向了上帝。他有一本《圣经》，他一天只能读一小时，因为，二十四小时中，只有在这一小时里，摇曳的日光才能进到他的洞穴里。他有着宗教的视野。他对自己唱赞美诗，他自己谱写圣歌。在7月的最后一天，他想到了翌日在罗马举行的庆典活动。他自言自语道，“在过去的日子里，我用世界的空虚来庆祝这个节日；但是，从今年开始，我用上帝的神圣来庆祝它。然后我对自己说‘我为我现在的生活感到幸福，这种幸福是记忆中所有的事情所无法比拟的。’”

但是，理解这些神秘的潮起潮落的最伟大的人是托尔斯泰。这些潮涨潮落的情绪在他所有的小说中跳动。在他的小说《战争与和平》中，主人公皮特应该是沙皇俄国最富有的人。在法国侵略期间，他被捕了。在撤退中，他被拖拽着。寒冷，害虫，饥饿，和每一种形式的苦难都折磨着他，这所有苦难的结果是生活的真正意义展现在他的眼前。“只是在这里，当他饥饿的时候，他第一次学会了赞赏吃的乐趣；当他口渴的时候，学会了欣赏喝的乐趣；当他困顿的时候，体会睡觉的快乐；当他想和别人交谈的时候，享受谈话的乐趣……而能够欣赏到这一切的原因是因为他被剥夺了这些权利。在以后的生活中，他总是带着喜悦回忆这一个月的被捕时光。每当谈起他所经历的无法抹去的感受和道德的平静时，他总是带着强烈的热情。在他被监禁的翌日清晨，长满树的山坡以及整座高山消失在灰白色的迷雾里；他感到凉凉的微风抚摸着他；他看到阳光赶走了晨雾；他看到太阳神秘地从云后升起；他看到了穹形的屋顶，十字架，露水，远方，河流，所有的一切都在快乐的光线里闪耀，——他的心充满了热情。这种热情一直跟随着他，生活愈是艰难，热情便愈是百倍强烈……他从此得知，人为幸福而生，这种幸福在他自己，在他对生存基本需求的满足；而不幸福正是我们富足的生活所带来的致命恶果……当宁静笼罩了整个营地，当残阳的余烬慢慢变白直到消失，当满月到达穹顶时，周围的树林和田野清晰可见。越过流光溢彩的光线，视线就进入了无尽的地平线。然后，皮特把他的目光投向了布满群星的苍天。‘那些都是我的，’他想到，‘那些都在我的内心，都是我！那就是他们认为他们囚禁了的人！那就是他们关在小木屋里的人！’然后他微笑了，转身回去，在他的同志们中间睡去。”

在那时，这种事件和经历不值一提。它完全依赖于被抓住的灵魂的能力。爱默生说：“穿过光秃秃的广场，在雪天的泥泞中，在黎明，在阴云密布的天空下，在我的思想中，没有任何特殊的好运气，我享受到了完美的欢乐。我很高兴到了恐惧的边缘。”

如果人有这种敏感的感知力的话，生命总是值得去度过的。但是，我们，作为受过高等教育的阶层（所谓的），已经过分地远离了自然。我们受到的训练都是如何去寻找精选的，稀有的，额外精美的，同时去忽略普通的。我们的头脑中塞满了抽象的概念，口中充满了冗词赘语。生活在这种高级层次的文化中，和我们简单层次相联系的快乐的特殊源泉枯竭了。我们对生活中更基本的，更普遍的善和乐，变得石头般冰冷盲目且无法意识。

弥补这种情形需要降低到更深层的，更原始的水平。被囚禁，船舶失事，或者被迫入伍都可以把生活中美好的一面展现给许许多多受教育过度的悲观主义者。生活在露天的环境中或生活在地上，倾斜的天平慢慢升到了平衡线；过分理智和不理智之间取得了平衡。人为计划的好处和狂热都变得淡化和苍白。而看，闻，尝，睡，勇敢，以及所有用身体作为的好处开始不断增长。我总是认为我们比野人或者大自然的孩子高级，但是在这些事情上，他们是鲜活的，而我们却毫无生气可言。如果他们可以和我们一样擅长写作，他们便可以为我们读让我们刻骨铭心的报告，以反映我们对进步的不耐心，对生活基本美好的视而不见。“啊！我的兄弟，” 一个酋长对他的白人朋友说，“你从来不会知道什么都不想，什么都不做的快乐。这种快乐，仅次于睡觉，是所有事情中最迷人的。我们生前，死后都是这种状态。你们的人收割完一块地后，开始犁下一块地；如果白天不够用，我看到过他们在月光下犁地。他们的生活相对于我们的生活是什么——我们的生活对于他们来说是毫无意义的？他们很盲目，他们失去了一切！而我们生活在现在。”

当生活被带到无须思考的水平，它就具有了十分重要的意义。这个非思考的水平就是纯粹的靠直觉感知的水平。这种情形曾经被一个擅长写作的人在他的《在巴塔哥尼亚的懒散日子》里描述过，这个人就是Ｗ. H.哈德逊先生。

这位值得尊敬的作家说：“我在尼格罗河上，离海大概70英里或80英里的地方，度过了大半个冬天。

“……我习惯每天早上骑马出去，离开山谷，带着我的枪，身边跟着我的狗；在爬上高地，投入到灰色的，铺天盖地的灌木丛中的时候，我就感觉我完全独自一个人，我与山谷和河流分开了不是五英里而是五百英里。那片灰色的荒地显得那么狂野，那么孤独，那么遥远；它一直延伸到无限，一片人迹未至的荒野，甚至连动物也极少到来，在荒野的荆棘中也找不到它们的足迹……不是一次，两次，或三次，而是日复一日，我来到这片孤寂之地。每天早晨走向它，就像是去参加一个节日；只有饥渴或西渐的太阳才可以让我离去。但是，我去的时候却并没有目的，——没有可以用言语表达的动机；因为，虽然我拿着枪，却没有什么可射击的，——射击被完全留在山谷里了……有时候，我在那度过整整一天，看不到一只哺乳动物，或只看到几只大小不等的鸟。那时的天气也并不怡人，天空中总是有一层灰蒙蒙的云，刺骨的寒风总是冷到让我拿缰绳的手麻木……以一种极其缓慢的步伐，我会连续骑上几个小时。这种步伐在其他环境下看来是无法忍受的。到达一个小山脚下后，我会骑马上到山顶，然后站在那里远眺。视野向四面延伸，地势起伏蜿蜒，景色狂野而没有规则。所有的一切都是灰色的。近处的景色和远处的地平线一样被薄雾包围着。远处的小山朦朦胧胧，轮廓因为距离的遥远而显得有些模糊。从我放眼远眺的地方下来，我继续自己漫无目的的漫游，光顾另一个高地，从另一个角度凝视同样的风景；然后就这样继续几个小时。中午时分，我会从马上下来，把雨披叠起来，在上面坐一会儿，或躺一会儿。一天闲逛时，我发现了一个小果园。果园里有二三十棵树，很明显，一群鹿或者其他的动物经常光顾这里，因为树与树之间的距离给它们的到来提供了很大的便利。这个小果园是在一个小山上，小山的形状和周围的山不太相同。一段时间之后，我觉得它就是我中午的休憩之地，而且把这个想法付诸实施。有时候，我不辞辛苦地专门来到这里休息，而不是坐在其他山边的成千上万棵树中的任意一棵树下，或无数灌木丛中的任意一丛灌木下。对此，我并没有问自己为什么。我什么都不想，只是下意识的在做这件事。我的心境形成了一种定式。在那休息了一次之后，每次我想休息的时候，那群特殊的树的形象就会跟随心中的愿望而来。这些树的树干细腻光滑，树下的沙子干净平整。所以，在很短的时间内，我形成了回同一个地点休息的习惯，这个习惯的确有点像动物。

“说我坐下来休息似乎有一点不太准确，因为，我从来没感觉到累。那个中午时分和累无关的小憩，让人心生欢喜。我会在那里静静地，一动不动地坐一小时。那里整天都没有一点声响，甚至没有树叶的沙沙声。一天，当我静静聆听这寂静之声的时候，我突然想知道，如果我大声喊一下，会是什么效果。这在我看起来一度是个很可怕的建议，想到它甚至会让我发抖。但是，在那段孤寂的日子里，任何穿我头脑而过的思想都会让我觉得奇怪。在这种思想状态中，思考对我来说是不可能的事情。我的思想状态是所谓的‘悬空’和‘警惕’的状态。但是，我并不想有什么历险记发生。我一点都不担心，就像我现在坐在伦敦的屋子里一样。这种心态让人觉得熟悉而不是陌生，同时，还伴有强烈的满足感和兴奋感。当我（又）回到我原来的自己，回到那个会思考的，原始的，无趣的存在状态的时候，我才知道某种东西挡在了我和我的智力之间。

“我毫无疑问的回去了；而那种暂时把更高级别的智力和能力束之高阁的警觉和机敏代表了纯粹的自然人的精神状态。他几乎不思考，不推论；但是，在纯粹的感觉的指引下，他有更确定的方向。他和自然的关系和谐到了完美的状态。在智力上，他和野生动物处在同一个水平。他捕食野生动物，而他们反过来也捕食他。”

对于旁观者来说，哈德逊所描写的这些时光，只不过是一个空虚的故事。在这个故事里，什么都没有发生，什么都没有获得，真的是没有什么可描述的。它们是毫无意义的，空白的时间轨迹。只有他感到了这些时光深处的秘密。对于他来说，它们的重要性就在于自身，这种无法言说的重要性让人震撼。如果一个人，无论男孩，女孩，或男人，女人，除了感觉生活的警觉性和极度的幸福感之外，从未感觉到过它的这种神秘的魔力，以及这种魔力所带有的，可能被你称作不合理的东西，那么我会很遗憾。生命中的假日是其至关重要的组成部分，因为，这些假日是，或者说至少应该是覆盖着这种神秘的、不负责任的魔力。

那么现在，所有的这些思考和这些引用的结果是什么？在某种意义上说，结果是否定的，但是在另外一种意义上，它是肯定的。这个结果绝对禁止我们对异于我们自己的存在形式的无意义性发表鲁莽的评论。它要求我们包容、尊重、迁就那些对我们并无损害，而是以他们自己的方式充满兴趣和欢乐的人们，无论他们这些方式在我们看来是多么的无法理解。不要随意对别人的经历评头论足吧！真理的全部或美好的全部是不可能展现给单独的一个观察者的，虽然每一个观察者在他独特的位置上所获取的那部分洞察是别人无法企及的。甚至监狱和病房都有它们独特的意义展示给人们。我们每个人忠于自己的机遇，充分享受上帝给自己的祝福，而不要野心勃勃地去控制整个世界；能做到这一点就足够了。

［1］　引自《草叶集》，沃尔特 · 惠特曼著，李野光译。——译者注

印度的老虎

有两种了解事物的方法：直接或凭直觉了解事物和从概念或表象性上了解事物。虽然我们眼前的白纸之类的事物可以凭直觉了解，但是我们知道的大多数事物只能从概念或表象性上了解，例如现在印度的老虎或者经院哲学体系。

为了确定我们的观点，假设我们首先以概念性知识为例；在我们坐在这里的时候，假定这就是我们的关于印度的老虎的知识。我们说我们在这里了解老虎到底是什么意思？如此自信地声称这个认识，按照沙德沃斯 · 霍奇森的生硬但有价值的说法，是“已知的”，这到底是怎么回事？

大多数人会回答我们了解老虎指的是让它们以某种方式出现在我们的思想中，虽然它们在形体上不存在；或者我们关于它们的知识被认为是我们对它们的思考。一个巨大的谜通常是由这种特殊的不存在中的存在构成的；经院哲学——只是学究化的常识——可以将其解释为老虎在我们的思想中的一种特殊的存在，叫作“意向性的内存在”。至少，人们可以说我们了解老虎指的是在我们坐在这里的时候精神“指向”它们。

但是现在，在这样的情况下，我们所说的“指向”是什么意思？在这里“指向”指的是什么？

对这个问题，我必须给出一个非常乏味的回答——它不仅跨越了常识和经院哲学的先入之见，而且跨越了我读到的几乎所有认识论作者的先入之见。简而言之，答案就是：我们的思想指向老虎指的仅仅是精神联想和运动方面的结果，它们紧跟这个想法，并且，如果得到贯彻，将和谐地形成关于老虎的某种观念或真实背景，甚至老虎的直接存在。它指的是如果一只美洲虎被说成老虎，我们不会接受；如果是真正的老虎，我们就会接受。它指的是指我们说出各种各样不与关于真老虎的其他正确命题相矛盾的命题的能力。它甚至可能是指，如果我们非常认真地考虑老虎的话，我们以凭直觉了解老虎为结果的行动，例如我们为了猎杀老虎而去印度旅行，带回来很多我们捕杀的老虎的皮。在这里，我们的精神意象并没有“自己”实现自我超越。它们是一个现象事实；老虎是另一个现象事实；它们指向老虎是一种非常平凡的经验内关系，“如果你承认有一个互相联系的世界。”总之，用休谟的话来说，这些想法和老虎是游离、不相关的，和任何两种事物一样；在这里，“指向”指的是与大自然产生的任何作用一样外在和偶然的作用。［1］

我希望你们现在会同意我的观点，即在表象性认识中没有特殊的内在神秘，只有连接思想与事物的物质或精神媒介的外在链条。在这里，了解一个事物就是通过世界提供的一个背景通向这个事物。我的同事米勒去年圣诞节在纽约的会议上对这些进行了极具指导性的阐述。他再次确认了我的有时动摇的观点，对此我向他表示感谢。

下面，我们讨论一下直接或凭直觉了解事物，拿我们眼前的白纸作为例子。如同我们刚才看到的，在这里，思想材料和事物材料在性质上是相同的，毫无差别。没有任何联想媒介的背景挡在思想和事物之间将它们分开。这里既没有“不存在中的存在”，也没有“指向”，可是思想已完全包含了纸；显然，这样的了解不能完全像刚才对象是老虎时那样解释。这样的直接了解的状态散布在我们的经验中。我们的信念差不多总是建立在基本数据上，比如这张纸的洁白、光滑或方正。这些性质真的是事物的基本方面还是只是在我们进一步了解之前的暂时假设对于我们现在的探究无关紧要。只要相信，我们就能面对面地看到我们的事物。现在，我们说“了解”这样的事物是什么意思呢？问这个问题是因为，如果我们关于老虎的概念性想法以我们被带到虎穴为结果的话，我们也应该用这种方法了解老虎吗？

这次演讲不能太长，所以我必须以最少的词语给出我的回答。首先我要说：只要白纸或者我们经验中其他基本数据被认为也进入其他人的经验，而且我们被认为在那里了解它，在这里也了解它；只要它被认为只是隐藏的分子的一个面具，这些分子以我们现在的经验不可见，但是某一天以其他经验也许可见；只要和印度的老虎的情况一样——被了解的事物是不存在的经验，那么了解只能是通过世界提供的媒介背景平稳地走向它们。但是如果把我们自己的纸的视像和任何其他事件分开考虑，如同它自己构成宇宙一样（它完全可能构成宇宙，我们不能相反地理解），那么看到的纸和看这张纸只是一个不可分割的事实的两个名称，这不可分割的事实的适当名称是数据、现象或经验。纸在这一思想之内，而思想包含纸，因为纸和思想只是后来给予同一经验的两个名称，当把这个经验拿到它构成一部分的更大的世界中时，它的联系可以沿着不同的方向追溯。［2］那么，直接或者凭直觉认识适合精神内容和事物同一的情况。这个定义与我们给表象性知识下的定义差别很大；但二者之中的任何一个都不涉及“自我超越”和“不存在中的存在”的神秘观念，而它们是哲学家和常人的知识观念的基本部分。

图一

［1］　我们说一块地里的一个石头可能“适合”另一块地里的一个坑。但是只要没有人把这个石头带到那个坑并扔进那个坑，那么“适合”的关系只是指这样的行为可能发生这个事实。现在我在这里说的对老虎的了解也是这样。它只是一个可能发生的联想过程和终止过程的预期性名称。

［2］　这句话的意思是“经验”可以指两大联想系统中的任何一个，它们是经验者的精神历史系统和世界的被经验事实系统。它构成这两个系统的一部分，而且确实可以看作它们的交点之一（如图一所示）。我们可以让一条竖线表示精神历史；但是同一个事物“O”也出现在不同人的精神历史之中，由其他竖线表示。因此，它不再为一个经验所私有，可以说成了一个共享或公共的事物。我们可以这样追溯它的外部历史，用横线表示。（它也在竖线的其他点上被表象性地了解或凭直觉了解，所以表示它的外部历史的线应该是环状、蜿蜒曲折的，但是简单起见，我将它变成直的。）但是在任何情况下，它都是包括各组线的同样的材料。

人生值得过吗？

当马洛克先生的以这句话为题的书籍在15年前出现的时候，一个幽默的回答在报纸上广为流传：“这取决于生活者”。今天晚上我给出的回答一点都不幽默。用莎士比亚的一个开场白中的话来说：

“今天我出场不是来引众位发笑；

这次演唱的戏文，又严肃、又重要，

庄严、崇高、动人、煊赫、沉痛，” ［1］

这必定是我的主题。我们所有人的心底都有一个角落，事物的终极奥秘黯然在那里发挥作用；除了让你们远离存在的表面魅力和至少在一小时之内让你们不关心构成我们寻常意识组织的小利益和兴奋的熙攘、蹦跳和振动，我不知道像你们这样的协会（哈佛青年基督教协会）有什么用意，也不知道你们对邀请来对你们演讲的人有什么要求。无须进一步解释或道歉，我想让你们和我一起将注意力转向更深邃的人生的低音音符，虽然大部分人都不情愿这样做。让我们在一个小时之内共同探索孤独的内心深处，看一看可以在与问题有关的事物的最深处找到什么答案。

一

对于很多人来说，一种气质上的乐观主义回答了人生的价值问题，这种气质上的乐观主义让他们不能相信任何邪恶无比的事情的存在。我们亲爱的老沃尔特 · 惠特曼的作品是这种乐观主义的标准教科书。纯粹的生活快乐在沃尔特 · 惠特曼的血管中如此强烈，以至于它排除了任何其他感觉的可能性：

“呼吸着空气，多么的甜美！

说着话，散着步，手里抓着点东西！

我就成了上帝，多么的不可思议！

世间万物都令人惊讶不已，哪怕是最小的颗粒！

它们皆有灵性！

我也歌颂太阳，在清晨，在中午，或是现在一天结束的时候；

我也因大地的聪慧和美丽而悸动，随着大地万物的生长而悸动；

我会为现代或古代的品性而歌唱，直到最后，

我会为万物的无尽结局而歌唱，

我说大自然会延续，赞颂也会延续。

我会用令人震惊的声音赞美这一切，

因为我看不到世间万物有一丝的不完美，

也不会看到任何原因或结果令人可悲。”

所以，当卢梭写他在安讷西度过的九年时，只讲述了其中的快乐：

“既不能说，也不能做，更不能想，而只能品味和感受的东西无法描述。我的幸福没有目标，只有幸福的情感本身！我在日出时起床，我感到快乐；我去散步，我感到快乐；我看到马曼，我感到快乐；我离开她，我感到快乐。我在树林中和藤坡上漫游，我在山谷中漫步，我阅读，我闲逛，我在花园中劳作，我收集果实，我帮忙做室内工作，在任何地方快乐都跟随着我。它不在一件可以指派的事情中；它完全在我的内心中；时时刻刻都不会离我而去。”

如果这样的心情可以永远保持，这样的性格可以普遍化，那么就不会有与现在的演讲类似的演说了。没有哲学家会试图清晰地证明人生值得过，因为情况绝对是这样，事实能够加以证明，这个问题消失的原因不是出现了任何答案，而是问题本身不见了。可是我们不是魔术师，无法使乐观的气质普遍化；在气质性乐观主义的关于人生的观点面前，气质性悲观主义的观点总是存在，不断对它们加以反驳。在所谓的“循环精神错乱”中，忧郁阶段紧跟着疯狂阶段，我们找不到外部原因；对于同一个健康的人来说，人生经常是今天阳光灿烂，而明天枯燥无味，取决于旧医学上所说的“心情调节”的波动。报纸上的玩笑说，“这取决于生活者”。卢梭的不平衡的性格经过了一个变化，我们看到他在后来不幸的日子中被忧郁以及怀疑和恐惧的黑暗幻觉包围。有些人甚至从出生起就带着不能感受快乐的灵魂闯入这个世界，如同沃尔特 · 惠特曼的灵魂不能感受阴暗一样。他们在比沃尔特 · 惠特曼的作品更经久不衰的诗中留给我们他们的消息。例如高雅的莱奥帕尔迪；或者与我们处于同一时代的詹姆斯 · 汤姆森，我认为那本令人同情的名为《城市可怕的夜晚》的书就其文学美而言应该更加广为人知，不出名的原因是人们害怕引用其中的词语——它们太阴暗，而且非常真诚。在一处地方，诗人描述了一些人晚上在没有光亮的大教堂中聚集在一起，听一位传教士布道。布道太长，无法引用，但是它的结尾如下：

“拥有悲哀人生的兄弟们！我们的生命何其短暂；

短短几年的时光过后我们定会获得解脱：

我们能否摆脱这些年的辛劳？

但是如果你不想让自己可怜的一生得到解脱，

那么，如果你愿意，你可以随时终结它，

在你死后，就不会害怕自己在睡梦中惊醒。”

他的声音如风琴般在震颤，

穿过拱形的过道，慢慢消失；

那渴望快乐的音调，

犹如安灵曲般悲伤，舒缓：

我们幽暗中的圣会一片寂静，

如同还在不断回想着那句“如果愿意，可以随时终结它。”

我们幽暗中的圣会一片寂静，

如同我们冥想着我们听到的那个神示，

我们幽暗中的圣会一片寂静，

可能是在等待着新的神示的到来；

这份企盼如同乌云密布的天空划过一道闪电，

霎时哀伤的叫声四处响彻：

“他说的是真的，哎！他说的是真的；

除了坟墓，我们没有其他属于自我的生命；

世间没有上帝；

命运对我们不会有愤怒和同情；

我能在这里找到我企盼的安慰吗？

“此生此世我只有一次机会，

一个人若干年短暂而高贵的人生，

期间是人类才智增长的壮丽，

是拥有妻儿的甜美的家庭；

是与人交往中友人的和蔼和聪慧；

是对世间万种艺术魅力的迷恋；

是被热血人士的无尽想象力所点燃的自然万物的辉煌；

“是只因身体康健带来的狂喜；

是无忧无虑的童年和火热的青春；

是成年人努力挣取财富时的艰苦和辛劳；

是受人敬重的老人感悟人生真谛时的平静；

“是所有令人崇敬的人类的特权；

是传说中有名的古老年代的记忆；

是人们对于世界经历种种事件和变革后伟大走向的追踪。

“这一机会我之前从未得到；

对我来说，

过去充满着无限的空白，令我无言；

这一机会再也不会出现，再也不会；

等待我的是无尽的，无尽的空白。

“自我降生以来这一机会就难以获得，

这是嘲弄，是错觉，我活在高贵的人世间，

对我来说就是一种折磨，

我只能渴望着毫无痛苦的死亡世界。

“我的人生之酒就是毒药掺着胆汁，

我人生的正午是在噩梦中度过，

最糟糕的是我已失去的人生岁月，它是我生命的全部：

对于这样巨大的损失，

什么能够使我得到安慰？

“不要提安慰，这里没有安慰，

一句也不要提：这样提会使恶迹得以修正澄清吗？

我们的人生充满欺骗，我们的死亡是漆黑的深渊：

轻声一点，绝望面前要安静。”

这一激情的声音从北边的通道传来，

而后又迅速地随着尖利的一声戛然而止；

过了许久，大家都默不作声，

因为在这一片沉默的悲痛面前，任何言语都要退却；

终于，布道者湿着眼睛，垂着头，若有所思地简单地说道：

“兄弟们，我可怜的兄弟们，就是这样：

人生对你我来说没有任何美好可言，

但是它很快就要结束，无法重来；

生前我们对它一无所知，

死后我们把自己交付给大地，

我们也会一无所知：

我考虑这些，

这给我带来安慰。”

“它很快结束，无法重来，”“那么，如果你愿意，你可以随时终结它，”——这些诗句在忧郁的汤姆森笔下真实地流淌，对于和他一样觉得世界更可能是不变的恐惧巢穴而不是不断的快乐源泉的人来说的确是一种安慰。所有自杀大军中的人声称人生不值得过——这只大军的名单像有名的英国军队中的降旗炮一样，跟随太阳环绕世界，永不终止。当我们舒服地坐在这里的时候，我们也“考虑这些”，因为我们和那些自杀的人有着相同的本质，他们的人生是我们共享的人生。最明了的智力完整，以及最简单的刚毅和荣誉，都不允许我们忘记他们的事例。

罗斯金先生说：“如果人们在享受一次伦敦晚宴中的美味佳肴和灯火辉煌时，房间的墙壁突然分开，通过它们之间的空隙，最类似的饥饿和悲惨的人类来到参加宴会的人们中间，无忧无虑；如果他们脸色惨白，极度穷困，由于绝望而心灰意冷，一个接一个地躺在柔软的地毯上，每位客人旁边都有一个人，那么客人会只丢给他们美味佳肴的碎屑吗？会只短暂地看一眼和想一下他们吗？然而现实和事实是，每个穷人和富人的真实关系，没有因为餐桌和病床之间的房屋墙壁的介入而改变，没有因为数英尺的地面（太小了！）而改变，而这确实是欢乐和悲惨之间的一切差别。”

二

现在我要直奔我的主题的核心。我想说的是假设我们在劝说一个人，这个人在人生中的唯一安慰是沉思“你可以在你希望的时候结束它”这个信念，我们可以用什么理由让这样的兄弟（或姐妹）愿意再次挑起重担呢？通常基督教徒在劝说可能自杀的人时，除了一贯的否定答案“你不可以”以外很少有其他回答。他们说，只有上帝主宰生死，预测他的赦罪之手是一种亵渎行为。但是我们不能找到更加丰富和正面的答案吗？我们不能通过反思让自杀的人实际看到并在悲伤的严肃中感到虽然形势不利，但是即使对于他来说人生仍然值得过吗？自杀的人不计其数（在美国，每年有大约三千人自杀），我必须坦率地承认，对于他们中的大多数而言，我的建议可能是无能为力的。如果自杀是精神错乱或突然狂乱冲动的结果，那么反思无力阻止它的势头；这样的情况属于邪恶的最终神秘，对于它们，我只能在这个小时快要结束的时候给出趋向于宗教耐心的考虑。现在我要说，我的任务实际上是狭窄的，我的话仅涉及形而上学的人生乏味，这是人的反思所特有的。你们之中的大多数人会因好或不好的目的而去反思人生。你们之中的很多人是哲学学生，已经切身地感受到过于追究事物的抽象根源带来的怀疑论和不真实。这确实是过于好学的生涯的正常结果之一。过多的追究和过少的主动责任与感觉主义一样经常通往下坡的边缘，坡的底部是悲观主义和噩梦型或自杀型的人生观。但是对于反思产生的疾病，进一步的反思可以进行有效的治疗；现在我要讲一讲反思产生的忧郁和厌世。

我要直接说我的最后支柱不是比宗教信仰更深奥的东西。说我的论证是破坏性的是因为它只是肃清了经常压制宗教信仰之泉的某些观点；说我的论证是建设性的是因为它让旨在使那些泉水正常、自然地流动的某些考虑公之于众。从本质上来说，悲观主义是一种宗教疾病。在它让你最容易受到影响的形式中，它只是一个没有任何正常宗教答案的宗教要求。

现在，治愈这种疾病有两个阶段，人们可以在这两个层次上将事物的黑暗面转变为事物的阳光面，我必须依次谈论它们。第二个阶段更加完整和欢乐，它与更自由地实践宗教信任和想象相对应。

众所周知，在这个方面，一些人生来就非常自由，而其他人一点都不自由。例如，我们发现一些人全心沉溺于对永生的期望；其他人很难让自己觉得这样的概念是真实的，他们被自己的感觉束缚，局限于他们的自然经验；而且，他们之中的很多人感到的是对他们所说的“铁的事实”的一种智力忠诚。其他人在情感召唤的时候轻易进入看不见的领域积极地撼动这种忠诚。但是，这两类人都没有强烈的宗教倾向。他们可能对赎罪和和解同样渴望，渴求事物的完整灵魂的默许和交流。但是当思想被囚禁在铁的事实中的时候，特别是当科学现在揭示它们的时候，这种渴求很容易产生悲观主义， 如同它激发宗教信任和想象飞往另一个更美好的世界时产生乐观主义一样。

这就是我说悲观主义在本质上是一种宗教疾病的原因。噩梦型的人生观有很多有机来源；但是它的重要反思来源永远是自然现象和内心渴求相信自然背后存在自然为其表现的精神之间的矛盾。哲学家们所说的“自然神学”是缓和这种渴求的一种方法；我们英国文学中的大量自然诗歌是另一种方法。现在，假设第二类人的相信因此被囚禁，将它的事实视为“铁一样的”；另外，假设它强烈地感觉到交流的渴望，但是意识到通过神学或诗歌解释自然的科学秩序是如何困难和让人绝望，那么除了内心的不协调和矛盾以外还会有什么结果？现在，这种内心的不协调（只是不协调）可以通过两种方法缓解：可以停止从宗教上解读事实，对赤裸裸的事实不予考虑；或者可以发现或相信补充事实，使宗教解读能够继续。这两种缓解方法是康复的两个阶段，逃离悲观主义的两个层次，我刚才提到过，我相信它们的结果会更加清晰。

三

从自然说起，如果我们有这种宗教渴求，我们自然地和马库斯 · 奥勒留一样说，“啊，宇宙！你的愿望就是我的愿望。”我们神圣的书籍和传统告诉我们，一个上帝创造了天地，并看到它们很好。然而，经过更加深入的了解，我们根本不能让天地的可见表面达到可理解的统一。我们会赞扬的每个现象都和某个相反的现象共同存在，这个相反的现象消除了它对思想的所有宗教影响。美丽和丑恶，爱和残忍，生和死共存，它们之间的关系牢不可破；我们渐渐地被一种既不是恨，也不是爱，但是毫无疑义地让所有事物共同毁灭的可怕力量的概念控制，而不是爱人类的神的古老的使人温暖的概念。这是一种怪诞、不祥、噩梦型的人生观，而它的恐怖性或毒性显然在于我们把两种不可能相容的事物放在一起——我们一方面坚持要求整体的生活精神存在，另一方面坚持相信自然的过程必定是精神的适当体现和表现。这个特别的生死悖论和这个产生忧郁的难题正是存在于包围我们、拥有我们、我们应该与之进行交流的精神的假设存在，和可见世界的过程揭示这样的精神品质之间的矛盾之中。卡莱尔在他的不朽作品《旧衣新裁》中的“永恒的否定” 一章中表述了结果。可怜的托弗尔斯德洛克写道：“我生活在一种连续、不明确和让人憔悴的恐惧中；因为我不知道的东西而颤抖、卑怯和担忧：似乎天上和地下的所有事物都会伤害我；似乎天和地只是一只贪婪怪物的无边的大口；在它的里面，我忐忑地等待着被吞食。”

这是猜测性忧郁的第一个阶段。任何野兽都不会有这种忧郁；任何没有宗教信仰的人都不会被这种忧郁困扰。它是受挫的宗教要求的病态战栗，并非只是动物经验的必然结果。如果托弗尔斯德洛克不是对世界经验的普遍混乱和迷惑的原本无限的信任和感情的受害者，他就可以尽力设法对付它们。如果他一件一件地遇到它们，不怀疑在其中体现的任何整体，根据形势和时运躲避苦的部分，保存甜的部分，他就可以曲折地走向简单的结局，不会感到有责任表达他的悲叹。“我不在乎”的轻率心态对于这个世界上的疾病来说是纯粹和实际的麻醉剂。但是，不！托弗尔斯德洛克和我们其他人内心深处的什么东西告诉我们，事物之中存在一种精神，我们应该 对它效忠，为了它我们必须保持严肃的心态。这样，内心的狂热和不协调也持续着；因为自然的可见的表面没有显现这样的精神，而且在我们探究的当前阶段，我们不想着眼于自然事实以外的东西。

现在，我向你们毫不犹豫、坦率、真诚地承认，这种真正和真实的不协调在我看来似乎会导致天真、简单的自然宗教不可避免地破产。过去，莱布尼兹之类的人戴着怪异的假发创立种种神正论，而一座已经建立的教堂的神职人员已经可以通过内心的阀门和髋关节的圆韧带证明一位“道德和聪明的世界创造人”的存在。但是那些时代已经过去了；19世纪的我们通过我们的进化理论和机械哲学已经如此公正和深入地了解自然，以至于我们不能毫无保留地崇拜任何上帝，而自然正是其性情的充分表述。的确，我们对善良和责任的所有了解都来自自然；但是我们对邪恶的了解也来自自然。可见的自然都是可塑和冷漠的，可以称之为道德多元宇宙，而不是一个道德宇宙。我们不对这样的妓女效忠；如果她是整体，我们无法建立任何道德交流；在对待她的一些部分时，我们随意遵守或毁灭，在了解其将有助于我们的私人目的特征时不遵循审慎以外的法则。如果有神圣的宇宙精神，那么我们所了解的自然就不可能是它对人类的“最终话语”。要么没有在自然中显现的精神，要么它不适当地在自然中显现；并且（如同所有高级宗教假设的那样）我们所说的可见的自然或者“这个”世界必然是一层面纱和表面阴影，其全部意义在于补充的不可见或“另一个”世界。

因此，我不能不从整体上将这样的简单自然主义迷信，即对自然神的崇拜，开始放松它对受过教育的人们的控制力看作一个收获（虽然对于某些诗意性格来说这似乎是很让人悲伤的损失）。事实上，如果我无保留地表述我的个人观点，我应该说（尽管某些人会觉得我在亵渎神明）走向与宇宙的健康最终关系的第一步是对上帝存在的想法进行反叛行动。在本质上，这种反叛就是我引用的卡莱尔的那一章接下来描述的反叛：“‘你为什么像一个懦夫一样呜咽抽泣，畏缩颤抖？可鄙的两足动物！……你没有心脏吗？你不能忍受一切吗？作为自由的孩子，虽然被放逐，在托弗要吞没吃掉你的时候你不能把它踩在你的脚下吗？那么让它来吧。我将等着它，挑战它！’当我这样想的时候，像一股火一样的东西冲入了我的整个灵魂；我永远摆脱了低贱的恐惧……

“这样，‘永恒的否定’威严地响彻我的存在和我的自我深处的所有地方；然后我的整个自我在上帝创造的雄伟中站起来记录它的抗议。这样的抗议是人生中最重要的事物，按照心理学的观点，可以适当地称为同样的愤慨和挑战。‘永恒的否定’中写道：‘看呀！你没有父亲，被放逐，宇宙是我的；’我的整个自我现在对此作出回答：‘我不是你的，而是自由的，我永远恨你！’托弗尔斯德洛克－卡莱尔补充道，‘从那时开始，我开始成为一个人。’”

我们可怜的朋友詹姆斯 · 汤姆森也写过类似的话：

在这个让人忧伤的地方，谁是最可怜的人？

我想是我自己；

然而我宁愿做痛苦的自己，

也不愿意成为他，

在他的面前，

他创造的世间生灵却显得相形见绌。

世间最卑劣的事物也不及你的卑劣，

上帝，主啊，是你创造了万物，

你也创造了所有的悲痛和罪恶！

它们引人憎恶，邪恶致命，冷酷无情！

我发誓，

在你的力量面前，

无论已经显露的还是蓄积的，

在为了颂扬你而修建的庙宇面前，

我都不会因为在这样的世界成为这样的人，

而心怀耻辱和愧疚。

在这个团体中，我们很熟悉人们因为从信仰他们的祖传加尔文主义中解放而狂喜的景象——他创造了伊甸园和蛇，并预先布置了永恒的地狱之火。他们之中的一些人已经找到了更人性化的神来崇拜，其他人不再信仰任何神学；但是，这两类人都让我们确信抛弃他们可以对那个不可能的偶像感到任何尊敬或责任这一复杂想法给他们的灵魂带来的无比的快乐。现在，将自然精神作为偶像并崇拜它也会导致复杂化；在具有宗教性而且还会具有科学性的灵魂中，复杂化产生一种哲学忧郁，逃避它的第一步是对这个偶像加以否认；随着偶像的倒下，不论积极的欢乐多么缺乏，抽泣和畏缩的心情也会消失。如果这样简单地看待邪恶，人们就可以很快完成，因为他们和它之间的关系只是实际的。它不再这样幽灵似的隐约出现，一旦思想一个一个地攻击它的事例，不再担心他们对“唯一的力量”的偏离，它就失去所有萦绕心头、令人困惑的意义。

这样，在从一元论迷信解放的这个阶段，可能自杀的人也许已经得到了他的人生价值问题的鼓舞人心的答案。在大多数人之中，在形而上学和无限的负担卸下时，生命力之泉会健康地应对。确信你现在“可以”在你希望的任何时候结束生命并且这样做不是亵渎神明或罪恶滔天的本身就是一种巨大的解脱。自杀的想法现在不再是一种有罪的挑战和困扰了。

“渺小的生命是我们要承受的全部；

死后的坟墓才是最神圣，平静的地方，”

汤姆森这样说；他还说，“我考虑这些，这给我带来安慰。”同时，我们总是可以多坚持二十四个小时，只为了看明天的报纸将包括什么内容或者下一个邮递员会带来什么。

但是即使在有悲观主义倾向的思想中，也可以激起比这种对生命的好奇心深奥得多的力量；因为爱和羡慕的冲动停息的时候，恨和斗争的冲动仍将应运而生。我们如此深刻地感受到的这种邪恶是我们可以帮助推翻的东西；因为它的来源是有限的，既然他们后面没有“物质”或“精神”，而我们可以一个接一个地对它们进行处理。痛苦和艰辛通常不减少对人生的爱，这确实是一个不寻常的事实；相反，它们似乎通常为它带来更加强烈的热情。忧郁的最重要来源是充实。需要和斗争让我们兴奋和鼓舞；在我们的胜利时刻，忧郁随之而来。我们的《圣经》中的悲观主义话语不是来自被囚禁的犹太人，而是来自所罗门荣耀时期的犹太人。德国在被波拿巴部队的铁蹄践踏时产生了也许是世界上最乐观主义和理想主义的文学；还没等到1871年以后法国支付“数十亿”，悲观主义就以我们今天看到的它的形式在整个国家泛滥。我们自己的种族的历史是对和痛苦作斗争带来的愉快的长篇注解。或者用我最近读到的瓦尔多派作为坚强的人能忍耐什么的例子。1485年，英诺森八世的教皇诏书命令消灭他们。它解除了那些应该对他们发动圣战的人的所有教会刑罚和惩罚，让他们从所有誓言中解脱出来，将他们可能非法取得的所有财产合法化，并许诺对所有杀死异教徒的人免罪。

一位瓦尔多派作家写道：“在皮埃蒙特的任何城镇都有我们的一些兄弟们被处死。乔丹 · 特尔巴诺被活活烧死在苏萨；西博莱特 · 罗西埃罗被活活烧死在都灵；迈克尔 · 哥内托，一个八十多岁的人，被活活烧死在萨尔塞纳；维勒明 · 阿姆布罗西奥被吊死在科尔迪梅莫；菲内斯特尔勒的雨果 · 奇阿姆伯斯的内脏在都灵被人活掏；波比奥的彼得 · 盖马拉里的内脏在路赛尔那被人以类似的方法活掏，还在原来内脏的位置放入一只凶猛的猫来进一步折磨他；玛利亚 · 罗马诺被活活烧死在罗卡帕提亚；马格达勒那 · 法诺在圣乔瓦尼遭遇了相同的命运；苏珊娜 · 米切丽尼在萨尔塞纳被绑住手脚，在雪地上死于寒冷和饥饿；巴尔托罗密奥 · 法切被马刀砍伤后在菲奈尔被人用生石灰填满伤口，很快死于痛苦；丹尼尔 · 米切丽尼由于赞美上帝在波博被割舌头；硫黄火柴被插入詹姆斯 · 巴里达里指甲下的肌肉、手指之间、鼻孔、嘴唇和全身，他在火柴被点燃后死去；丹尼尔 · 罗维利的口中被塞满火药，火药被点燃后将他的脑袋炸得粉碎；……萨拉 · 罗斯迪格诺尔从腿部到胸部被切开，被扔在埃拉尔和路赛尔那之间的路上，然后死去；安娜 · 查尔波尼斯被处以刺刑，在钉子上从圣乔瓦尼被抬到拉托雷。

如此等等！1630年，瘟疫夺去了瓦尔多派的一半人口，包括他们的十七个牧师之中的十五个。来自日内瓦和多菲尼人将这些人的位置替代，所有瓦尔多派的人都学习法语，来参与他们的宗教仪式。他们的人口不止一次由于不断的迫害从两万五千人的正常水平减少到四千人左右。1686年，萨沃伊公爵命令剩下的三千人要么放弃他们的信仰，要么离开国家。他们拒绝了，与法国和皮埃蒙特军队打仗，直到只剩下八十个战士还活着，未被俘获，然后他们投降了，并全部被送往瑞士。但是在1689年，在奥兰治的威廉的鼓励和他们的一个牧师首领的带领下，他们之中的八百到九百人回来重新征服了他们的老家。他们一直打到了波比，在前六个月中人数减少到四百人，和派来攻打他们的每支部队拼杀，直到因为对战乱带来的破坏深感憎恶，萨沃伊公爵才放弃了与路易十四的联盟。士兵们恢复了相对的自由，从此以后，他们在荒凉的阿尔卑斯山山谷中繁衍生息至今。

我们的不幸和痛苦和它们比起来算什么呢？难道对获胜概率如此低的、如此顽强的作战的叙述不能让我们坚定地面对“我们”渺小的黑暗力量（操纵政党活动的政客、分肥者和其他人）吗？人生是值得过的，不论它带来什么，只要这样的战斗以胜利结束，人们的鞋跟踩在暴君的喉咙上。对于自杀的人，在他设想的多样的、不道德的世界中，你可以呼吁——以让他恶心的那些邪恶的名义呼吁——他等一下看看“他”在战斗中的角色。你在这样的情况下要求他同意继续生活，这不是诡辩的畏缩宗教信徒宣扬的“屈从”：它不是在舔暴虐神灵的手的意义上的屈从。相反，它是一种基于刚毅和骄傲的屈从。只要你的可能自杀的人不治疗他自己的邪恶，只要他和邪恶没有任何抽象和普遍的关系。你要求自己接受世界上的邪恶这个普遍事实，你对它表面上的默许，在这里只是确信邪恶普遍“跟你没有关系”，直到你和你自己的特定邪恶之间的问题被清算和解决。只需要做出这种适当指明细节的挑战让正常本能没有衰弱的人接受；你的沉思的可能自杀的人可以轻易地被它打动，从而再次以某种兴趣面对生活。荣誉的情感是一种穿透力很强的东西。例如，当你和我意识到，有多少只无辜的大牲畜必须在运畜车厢和屠宰场中受苦并失去它们的生命，我们才能衣食无忧地长大，我才能舒适地坐在这里进行这次演说，它确实让我们更严肃地看待我们和宇宙的关系。一位年轻的阿姆赫斯特哲学家（奇诺斯 · 克拉克，现在已经去世）曾经写道，“按照这样的条件接受幸福的人生不涉及荣誉问题吗？”我们不需要经受一些磨难，对我们的生命进行一些自我否定，来回报作为我们生命的基础的那些生命吗？如果一个人的心结构正常，那么听到这个问题以后他只会做出一种可能的回答。

那么这样，我们看到，对于那些为了摆脱忧郁症而抛弃所有形而上学但是决心目前不将任何功劳归功于宗教和它的正面效果的人来说，纯粹的本能的好奇、好斗和恐惧可能使人生在纯自然主义的基础上看似每天都值得过。你们之中的一些人可能想说，这仅仅是半个阶段；但是至少你们必须承认，它是一个诚实的阶段；任何人都不敢卑鄙地谈论这些本能，它们是我们人性的最好装备，而且宗教本身定会做出最后的努力来满足自身对人性本能的特殊诉求。

四

现在，在转向宗教可能对这个问题给出的答案时，我也触及了我的演讲的灵魂。宗教在人类历史上意味着很多东西；但是从现在开始，当我用这个词的时候，我的意思是在超自然主义的意义上使用它来宣布构成这个世界的经验的所谓自然秩序只是整个宇宙的一部分，在这个可见的世界以外，有一个不可见的世界在延伸，我们现在对它没有任何正面了解，但是我们现在的生活的真正意义在于它和这个世界之间的关系。对于我来说，一个人的宗教信仰（不论它可能涉及什么更特别的项目）在本质上指他相信存在某种不可见的秩序，而且自然秩序的谜题在其中可以找到解释。在更加发达的宗教中，自然世界一直被视为只是一个更真实、更永恒的世界的脚手架或前厅，被确认为一个教育、考验或救赎的领域。在这些宗教中，人必须以某种方式结束自然生活才能进入永恒生活。这个有风有水、日升月落的实体世界是一种绝对的且最终是以神圣的目的建立的事物。这一概念，我们只能在非常久远的宗教中找到，例如最原始的犹太人的宗教。就是我刚才提到的这种自然宗教（仍然原始，虽然善意超过洞察力的诗人和科学人士不断出版一些新的版本，而且它们更适合当代人的感受）在一些人看来已经破产无疑，我必须把我自己也算上，这些人的数量每天都在增加。对于这些人来说，单单是科学中了解的自然实体秩序还不能被看作揭示了任何和谐的精神意图。用昌西 · 赖特的话来说，它只是“天气”，在不停地折腾。

现在，我希望能让你们感到，如果我能够在这个小时中所剩不多的时间内做到的话，我们有权利相信物理秩序只是一种偏序；我们有权利以我们不加深究地假设的一种不可见的精神秩序对其加以补充，如果这样，我们可能重新觉得人生更值得过。但是由于对于你们之中的一些人来说，这样的信任会看似悲伤、神秘、可憎、不科学，我必须首先说两句来弱化你们可能会想到的科学对我们的行为的否决。

在人的本性中包括一种根深蒂固的自然主义和唯物主义思想，它只承认实际可感知的事实。对于这种思想来说，被称为“科学”的实体是偶像。对“科学家”这个词的喜爱是一个注脚，让你能够了解它的信徒；它扼杀它不相信的任何观点的简单方法就是称其为“不科学的”。必须承认，没有任何这样做的理由。科学在过去的三百年中实现了如此光荣的飞跃，在整体上和细节上都极大地延伸了我们的自然知识；而且，科学人士作为一个阶层已经展示了如此让人羡慕的美德，以至于科学的崇拜者失去理智不足为奇。因此，在这所大学中，我听到不止一位教师说科学已经奠定了真理的所有基本概念，未来只需加入相关的细节即可。但是，对真实情况进行最简单的反思就足以表明这样的观念是如何的肤浅和愚昧。它们表明科学想象如此缺乏，以至于很难理解作为一个积极推动科学全面进步的人怎么能够犯下这么低级的错误。让我们想一想多少全新的科学概念在我们这一代产生，出现了多少我们以前从未想象到的新问题，然后看一看科学的短暂历史；它始于伽利略，而不是三百年以前。伽利略以来的四位思想家之中的每一位都让他的继承者清楚自己的一生做出了哪些发现。当我们坐在这个房间里时，他们可能已经将科学的火炬传递到我们的手中。确实，就那点而论，规模比现在小得多的听众，大约五六个人，如果其中的每个人可以代表他那代人，可以将我们带到人类的黑暗无知的日子，没有文件或碑石讲述他们的故事。相比这样一夜之间快速累积的知识，以及当宇宙被更加充分了解时，人们对其真实情况最短暂的一瞥所获得的知识，两者之间我们能够相信前者比后者更“能”代表人类对宇宙的认识吗？不！我们的科学只是一滴水，而我们的无知是一片海洋。不管任何其他已经确定的事情是什么，至少有一件事情我们是清楚的：我们目前的自然认知的世界被包围在“某种”更大的世界之中，对于它的其余部分我们目前没有任何正面的了解。

当然，不可知实证主义最衷心于在理论上承认这个原则，但是又坚持认为我们不可以将其用于任何实际用途。这个学说告诉我们，我们没有权利去梦想那些幻想，或者对宇宙中不可见的部分做出任何猜测，这仅仅是因为这样做也许更加符合我们乐于称道的最高利益。我们必须永远等待证明我们的信念的实实在在的证据；在这样的证据无法获得时，我们不能做出任何假设。当然，在理论上这是一个足够安全的立场。如果一个思想家对未知的事情漠不关心，对其没有任何重要的诉求，其生与衰与未知世界所包含的事物没有任何关系，那么采取哲学上的中立并拒绝相信二者中的任何一个将是其最明智的选择。但是，不幸的是，中立不仅有内在的困难性，而且有外在的不可实现性，而我们与一种选择的关系是实际和重要的。这是因为，如同心理学家们告诉我们的那样，相信和怀疑是生活的态度，涉及我们自身的行为方式。例如，我们怀疑或拒绝相信某一件事存在的唯一方法是继续行动，如同它“不存在” 一样。比如，如果我拒绝相信屋子正在变凉，我会让窗户开着，不生火，如同它仍然温暖一样。如果我怀疑你们不值得我信任，那么我的所有秘密都不会告诉你们，就像你不配知道它们一样。如果我怀疑为我房子投保的必要性，我就不为它投保，如同我相信没有任何必要性一样。所以如果我不相信世界是神圣的，我只能通过不再做出特别的行为，如同它是神圣的一样，来表达我的拒绝，这只能指在某些关键的时候如同世界“不是”神圣的那样或以漠视宗教的方式行事。你们可以看到，在人生中必然有一种情况，就是不行动是一种行动而且必须算作一种行动，也必然有不赞成就是实际上反对的情况；在所有这些情况下，严格和一贯的中立是一件做不到的事情。

归根到底，只有我们的内在兴趣会引导我们相信的这种中立责任难道不是最可笑的要求吗？说我们的内在兴趣不可能与隐秘世界中的力量有任何真实联系难道不是纯粹的教条主义愚蠢行为吗？在其他情况下，基于内在兴趣的预言已经被证明具有足够的预见性。例如科学本身！如果我们没有对理想的逻辑和数学和谐的迫切要求，我们就不能证明这样的和谐隐藏在粗糙的自然世界的所有空隙和裂缝之间。已经建立的科学规律和已经确定的事实几乎都是人们首先为满足内在需要而探索的，经常为之付出汗水和鲜血。我们不知道这些需要从何而来：我们在自己身上发现了它们，生物心理学到目前为止将它们和达尔文的“偶然变异”划为一类。但是相信这个自然世界只是一种比它自身更具精神性和永恒性的某种事物的表象，这种内在需要，在那些感受到它的人们的心中，与科学家专业头脑中统一的因果规律的内在需要，具有同样的强烈程度和权威性。很多代人的辛苦已经证明第二种需要具有预言性。为什么前者不“能”也具有预言性呢？如果我们的需要超出了可见的宇宙，为什么这不“能”作为存在一个不可见宇宙的迹象呢？简而言之，是什么有权力能禁止我们信任我们的宗教要求呢？这样的科学当然没有权力，因为她只能说什么是，不能说什么不是；不可知论者所说的“在没有强有力的可感知证据的情况下你不能相信”只是表达了对特定种类的证据的私人渴求（每个人都可以这样表达）。

现在，当我说到信任我们的宗教需求时，我所说的“信任”是什么意思呢？这个词能否让我们详细地定义一个不可见的世界并将那些信任不同的人逐出教会呢？当然不能！我们具有的信仰能力不是旨在让我们借此划分正教和异教；而是旨在让我们借此生活。信任我们的宗教需要是指首先按照它们生活，并如同它们使人想到的世界是真的那样去行动。人可以借助一种没有单一教条或定义的信念去生活和死去，这是一个人性的事实。最低限度的相信这个自然秩序不是终极性的，而只是一个表象或景象，多层宇宙的永恒上演，其中的精神力量说了算并且是永恒的——这种最低限度的相信对于这些人来说足以让人生看起来值得过，虽然它在自然层面上的情况暗示各种相反的推定。但是，如果毁掉这种内在的相信，虽然它是模糊的，那么存在的所有光辉对于这些人来说将被一下子熄灭。极端的人生观——自杀的心态——经常会出现。

现在，这直接适用于你和我。也许对于这里的几乎每个人来说，如果我们能够“确定”我们的勇敢和忍耐会在不可见的精神世界中的某处结出果实，那么最恶劣的人生就会看似很值得过。但是假设我们不确定，那么能否这样说，对这样的世界的最起码的信任是一个傻瓜的天堂和乐土，或者它是我们可以自由沉浸其中的一种生活态度？嗯，我们可以自由地信任不是不可能的任何事情，自担风险，而这可以为它带来很多类比。与我们的家畜的生命类比让我们生动地看到赞成理想主义的众多论述往往证明物理世界可能不是绝对的；我们的整个物理人生可能沉浸在一个精神氛围中，目前我们还没有器官能够了解这个存在维度。例如，我们的狗在我们的人类生活中，但是它不是人类生活的一部分。它们经常目睹事件的表象，但是无法通过任何可能的方式让它们理解其内在意义——在这些事件中它们经常扮演最重要的角色。例如，我的小猎犬咬了一个挑逗它的男孩，他的父亲要求赔偿。在谈判的每个步骤，狗可能都在现场，看到支付的钱，对它的全部意义一无所知，毫不怀疑这和“它”有任何关系；它在它的狗的自然生活中永远“不能”了解。我们也可以举另一个例子，在我是医学学生的时候，它曾经给我留下了非常深刻的印象。让我们想一想人们在实验室中进行活体解剖的可怜的狗。它被绑在一块木板上，向它的刽子手尖叫着，在它的无知的意识里，它真是身处一种地狱之中。在整个过程中，它看不到一丝能拯救它的光芒；然而所有这些看似残忍的事件经常由人类的意图控制，如果它的蒙昧的心能够瞥见它们，它的所有英勇将虔诚地默许这些意图。它们带来了有治疗功用的真理，使兽类和人类的未来苦难得到解脱。这可能真是一个拯救的过程。躺在木板上的它可能履行着一种功能，这比兴旺的犬类生活容许的任何功能都高出无数个层次；然而，对于整个履行来说，这种功能绝对是超出了它的理解范围的那部分。

现在，我们将目光从狗的生活转到人的生活。在狗的生活中，我们看到了狗看不见的世界，因为我们生活在两个世界中。在人的生活中，虽然我们只看到我们的世界和其中的狗的世界，但是可能有一个更加广阔的世界包围着这两个世界，我们看不见这个世界，如同狗看不见我们的世界一样；而相信那个广阔世界“可能”存在是我们的生命在这个世界中必须履行的最根本的功能。但是，人们现在听到实证主义者轻蔑地叫喊：“也许吧！也许吧！科学的人生对也许有什么用？”那么，我回答，“科学的”人生本身和也许有很大关系，人类的生活普遍地和也许有着密不可分的关系。只要人代表着什么并具有生产性或创造性，那么就可以说他的全部生命功能必须应付“也许”。如果没有“也许”，就不能获得胜利，不能做出忠实或勇敢的事迹；任何宗教仪式、慷慨迸发、教科书上的科学探索或实验都可能是一个错误。我们活着正是因为每时每刻都在拿我们自己冒险。而我们事先相信未经证明的结果“是使结果成真的唯一原因”。比如，假设你在爬一座山，已经到达了一个地方，除了可怕的跳跃以外别无选择。如果你相信你能够成功地完成它，那么你的脚就有力量完成跳跃。但是如果你不相信自己，想到你听过的科学家们讲的所有关于“也许”的悦耳之言，那么你就会犹豫很长的时间，以至于最后你的情绪极度紧张不安，浑身发抖，在绝望的一刻纵身一跃，滚入深渊。在这样的情况下（这属于一个庞大的类别），指挥和勇敢的作用是“相信什么符合你的需要”，因为需要只有通过这样的信念才能实现。如果你拒绝相信，那么你确实是正确的，因为你将不可挽回地消亡。但是如果你相信，那么你也是正确的，因为你将挽救你自己。你可以通过你的信任或不信任来使两个可能的宇宙中的任何一个成真——在这特殊情况下，在你做出你的行动以前，两个宇宙都只是“也许”。

现在，在我看来人生是否值得过这个问题取决于在逻辑上和它们非常类似的条件。这确实取决于你，“生活者”。如果你屈服于噩梦型观点并将自杀作为这个邪恶构想的终结，那么你确实勾画了一副完全漆黑的景象。对于你的世界来说，你的行为实现的悲观主义真实无疑。你对人生的不信任已经消除了你自己的持续存在可能赋予它的任何价值；现在，在那个存在的可能影响的整个范围内，不信任已经证明具有预言力。但是，另一方面，假设你没有屈服于噩梦型观点，而是坚持相信这个世界不是“最终的”。假设你自己找到了一个真正的源泉，如同华兹华斯所说的那样：

热情和美德因为信仰而存在，

如同士兵因勇气而生，

如同水手与咆哮的大海而战，

皆因心灵的力量。

假设不论邪恶的力量多么密集地扑向你，你的不可征服的主观性被证明能和它们匹敌；假设你通过永远信任更大的整体能够得到任何被动愉悦所不能带来的美妙的快乐。有了这些条件，现在你的人生难道不值得过吗？如果人生只带来好天气，不让你的这些更高的能力得以发挥，而你的品质已经准备好与之缠斗，那么人生会是什么样的东西呢？请别忘了乐观主义和悲观主义是世界的定义，而我们自己对世界的反应，虽然松散和渺小，却是整体的组成部分，必然有助于确定定义。它们甚至可能是确定定义的决定性因素。如果在大质量物体上加上一根羽毛，它的不稳定的平衡可能被打破；如果在一个长长的词组中加入“不”这个字，它的意思可能会颠倒。我们可以说，这个人生是值得过的，因为它“从道德的观点来看，是我们造就的”；我们决心从这个观点出发将它造就为成功的，只要我们与之有任何关系。

现在，在描述这些可以自我证实的信念时，我假设我们对一种不可见秩序的信念激发了那些努力和那种耐心，让这种可见的秩序有益于道德的人。我们对可见世界的良好性（良好性在这里指的是对成功的道德和宗教人生的适合性）的信念已经通过依赖我们对不可见世界的信念自我证实。但是我们对不可见世界的信念是否能同样地自我证实呢？谁知道呢？

这同样是一个“也许”的情况；“也许”同样是情况的本质。我承认我觉得一个不可见世界的存在完全可能部分地取决于我们之中的任何人对宗教诉求做出的个人反应。简而言之，上帝本身可能从我们的忠诚中汲取生命力并增加真实的存在。对于我来说，我不知道这个人生的汗水、鲜血和悲剧的意义是什么，如果它们的意义不是这样的话。如果这个人生不是一场真正的战斗，在战斗中通过获胜为宇宙永恒地获得了什么东西，那么它不过是私人戏剧表演的游戏，人们可以随意退出。但是我们“觉得”它像是一场真正的战斗，如同在宇宙中存在某种非常狂野的东西，需要我们用我们的理想和信念去拯救；首先要把我们的心从无神论和恐惧中拯救出来。对于这样一半狂野、一半被拯救的宇宙，我们的本性是适应的。我们的本性中最深邃的东西是这种“内在人生”（最近一位德国医生的说法），在这个心中的无声区域，只有我们的愿意和不愿意、我们的信念和恐惧陪伴着我们。如同水通过巨穴的裂缝和缝隙从地下流出并形成泉头一样，我们的所有外在行为和决定的来源在人格的这些朦胧的深处涌现。这里是我们与事物本质交流的最深入的器官；与我们的灵魂的这些具体运动相比，所有抽象的陈述和科学的论证——例如严格的实证主义者对我们的信念的否定——在我们听来就像是牙齿的颤动。因为在这里，可能性，而不是已完成的事实，是我们主动应对的现实；用我的朋友费城伦理协会的威廉 · 沙得的话来说，“因为勇敢的本质是将一个人的生命赌一个可能性，所以信念的本质是相信可能性的存在。”

我最后要对你们说的话是：不要害怕人生。如果你们相信人生是值得过的，那么你们的信仰将有助于创立这个事实。证明你们是正确的“科学证据”在上帝的最后审判日（或者这个表述能够象征的某个存在的阶段）到来以前可能是不清楚的。但是此时此刻那些满怀忠诚的战斗者们或者能够代表他们的人，可能会向这里不敢前进的怯懦的人们说出类似于当磨磨蹭蹭的克里伦获得一次伟大胜利之后，亨利六世对他所说的话：“勇敢的克里伦，你去上吊吧！我们在阿尔克打仗，而你却不在这里。”

［1］　引自《亨利八世》开场白，莎士比亚著，杨周翰译。——译者注

实用主义的含义

几年前，我参加了一个在山区举办的露营聚会。一次独行漫步返回时，我发现所有人都卷入到了一场激烈的关于形而上学的争论中。争议的焦点集中在一只松鼠身上——设想，一只活松鼠紧挨着树干的一侧，而另一侧站着一个人。这个人尝试通过快速绕行树干的方式，看到松鼠，但无论他走多快，松鼠在另一边走得更快，他们之间总隔着树，所以松鼠不曾瞅见这个人。这件事里有一个形而上学问题：这个人有没有绕着松鼠走？诚然，他是绕着树走的，但松鼠却不在树上，那他是不是也绕着松鼠走呢？随心所欲、悠闲地生活在野外的时候，讨论已成为乏味的代名词。每个人都选择了立场并固执己见，双方旗鼓相当。所以，当我出现的时候，双方都向我投来橄榄枝，希望我能帮助他们成为多数派。这时，你要在意这句学究气十足的谚语：无论何时遇到矛盾双方，你都必须加以区分。我迅速区分并辨认出一个重要的概念，如下所述：“哪方正确在于你说的绕着松鼠的‘绕’实际上是什么含义。如果你的意思是，人先从松鼠的北边移到东边，再移到南边，再到西边，然后再移到松鼠的北边，很明显人是绕着松鼠走的，因为人陆续站在了这四个位置。但是，如果正好相反，你的意思是人最初站在松鼠的前面，然后站在松鼠的右边，再是后面，再左边，最后站在松鼠的前面，那么很明显人不是绕着松鼠走的，因为在松鼠挪动的同时，它的肚皮一直对着人，松鼠的背是转过去的。如果能区分这一点，便无须再争辩。你们都是正确的，也可以都是错误的，就在于你在实际意义上如何理解‘绕’这个词。”

尽管有一两个激烈的辩论者把我的说法说成是搅浑水的托词，说他们不想听到诡辩或学究做派的吹毛求疵之词，他们的意思仅仅是简单英语中“绕”的意思，但是大多数人似乎认为这一区分平息了争论。

我之所以提这件小事，原因是它极其简要地说明了我现在想解释的“实用的方法”。实用的方法首先是能够平息争议的方法，否则争议将永不停息。世界是一体还是多体的——命中注定的，还是自由选择的？——是唯物的，还是唯心的？——这些理念中任何一方都可能，或不能解释这个世界；对此的争论没有终点。在对待这些事情上，实用主义的方法是尽可能地通过锁定每种观点带来的实际后果来解读它们。哪方观点正确，会给人们的现实生活带来什么不同？如果给现实生活带来的区别为零，那么它们其实是一回事，关于它们的争论也是无聊的。如果争论非同小可，我们应该能够区分从一方观点转换到正确观点所带来的实际差异。

简要回顾一下实用主义的历史，能让你更好地理解它。这个词来源于希腊语πQayua，行动的意思，我们现在所说的“实践”和“实际上的”也来源于此。它于1878年被查尔斯 · 皮尔斯先生引用到了哲学领域。在一篇刊载于当年1月的《大众科学月刊》，题为《如何让我们的思维变得清晰？》的文章中，皮尔斯先生在指出我们的信念实际上是行动的指南针之后，他说道，为了让想法有意义，我们只需确定什么行为是合适的：合不合适仅仅看行为的意义。在我们思想差异的根部存在着一个显著的事实，不管差异多微妙，只有那些让实践有所不同的差异才是好的。为了在我们的思想中获得对事物完整而清晰的看法，我们只需要考虑这一事物可能带来的、看得见摸得着的现实后果——我们期望对它有什么样的感知，以及我们必须对它抱有什么样的反应。不管我们认为的后果是直接的还是间接的，都是我们对于这个事物的整体看法，久而久之，这些看法总是会产生积极的意义。

这就是皮尔斯准则，也是实用主义准则。二十年来，这一准则完全无人问津，直到我在加州大学豪伊森教授组建的哲学联合会中的一次演说中重新提到它，并将之应用到哲学领域。到那个时候（1908年），时机已然成熟，大家能够接受它了。“实用主义” 一词推广开来，而现在它已是各类哲学学刊的座上客。从各方面来看，我们发现人们谈论“实用主义运动”时，时而充满崇敬，时而报以轻侮，却从未有过清晰的理解。很明显，这个词常自动地被应用于许多潮流中，这些潮流迄今为止缺乏一个通用的称呼，而它们也必须扎下根来。

要理解吸收皮尔斯准则，大家必须要习惯把它应用到具体的事务中去。我发现几年前，奥斯特瓦尔德，一位有名望的化学家，在一场关于科学哲学的讲座中独辟蹊径、完美地使用了实用主义准则，尽管他并没有用这个称呼。

“现实的林林总总都影响着我们的实践行为，”他给我的信中写道，“这种影响便是现实对我们的意义所在。我习惯了在我的课堂这样阐述这个问题：如果真理是这样，而非那样，这对世界会带来什么样的区别？如果没什么区别，这个问题便毫无意义。”

也就是说，对立的观点实际上有一样的含义，而对我们来说，除了实用意义上的含义，便别无其他含义。在一次公开发表的演讲中，奥斯特瓦尔德举例说明了他的想法。化学家们长期以来就“互变异构体”的内部构造争论不休：它们的特性是看起来跟体内振荡而不稳定的氢原子吻合呢，还是它们就是两种物体不稳定的混合物。对此，争议很激烈却从未平息。“如果论战双方事先扪心自问一下，哪种观点正确会让实验结果有何不同，也许争论压根就不会开始。因为，看起来事实不会因此有任何改变；这场争论没有现实意义，就像在远古时代解释酵母发面的时候，一方说是‘棕仙’［1］，而另一方则坚持认为‘小精灵’才是真正的原因，这样的做法同样没有现实意义。”

如果你将很多哲学上的争辩置于简单的测试中，找找它们具体的影响，你会吃惊地发现这些争辩会顿时沦为毫无意义的命题。不产生相异的影响，就不存在相异的区别——没有哪个抽象真理会不体现在具体的事实差异上，随后在某时、某地以某种方式施加于某人的行为中。哲学的整体作用应该是，在我们有限的生命中，发现世界准则甲乙何者正确，会给我们带来什么样具体的影响。

实用主义方法绝对没有标新立异。苏格拉底是这方面的能手。亚里士多德常巧妙地运用它。洛克、伯克利和休谟利用它为探索真理做出了重大贡献。赛德沃森 · 豪吉森坚持认为，现实不过是人们已知的事物而已。但是这些实用主义的先驱者们并没有系统地运用它：他们只是奏响了前奏。直到在我们所处的这个时代，它才自发地被普及，才意识到其普世的使命，自称必定无坚不攻。我相信那个命运，我也希望你最终能被我的信仰所鼓舞。

实用主义体现了哲学中非常相似的一种态度，即实证态度，但在我眼中，实用主义想都没想到自己会以更彻底而不引起反感的姿态，成为实证态度的代言人。实证主义者会毅然决然地不理会许多哲学专家珍视的积习。他拒绝抽象与片面，拒绝夸夸其谈，拒绝抹黑先验理由，拒绝墨守成规，拒绝画地为牢，拒绝虚假的绝对和正统。他向往具体与全面，向往事实，向往行为，还向往能量。这意味着实证作风占上风，理性主义者们的德行被摒弃。这意味着对自然有开放的姿态，承认它种种可能的存在，意味着反对教条、做作以及假装找到了最终真理的虚伪。

同时，它并不代表任何特别的结果。它只是一种方法。但这种方法大获成功，代表着我最近一次演讲中称之为哲学“性情”的东西发生了重大改变。纯理论式的布道者们被赶走，就像在共和制中，侍臣没有立足之地；在新教的领地，皇权至上者们被驱逐一样。科学和形而上学愈行愈近，最终必然手牵手地亲密合作。

形而上学常常探索最原始的需求。你知道人类一直渴望得到非法的咒语，你也知道这些咒语一直发挥着重要的作用。如果你知道他的名字，或是可以约束他的咒语，你便可以掌控幽灵、妖怪、恶魔以及任何一方力量。所罗门知晓所有幽灵的名称，有了这些名字，他便能让他们臣服于他的意志。对于自然意志的人来说，宇宙看起来像个谜，谜底必须从某些具有启发性、能带来力量的词语或名称中获得。那个词确定了宇宙的准则，在掌控宇宙之前，必须掌握它。“上帝”、“物质”、“理性”、“绝对”、“能量”便是许多能解决问题的名称。当你掌握了它们，你便可以歇息了。此刻，你也走到了形而上学探索之旅的尽头。

但是，如果你遵循实用主义的方法，你就不可能让自己对大自然的探索止步于这几个词。你必须从每个词中解析出它的实用价值，让这一价值在你的种种实践中发挥作用。这个方法看起来不像解决问题，而像鼓励更多的探索，尤其特别的是，它意味着有方法改变既成的现实。

于是，理论变成了工具，而不是能让我们停驻的谜底。我们并不止步于这些理论，而是向前迈进。偶尔，我们借助它们的帮助，改造自然。实用主义不会僵化地对待各种理论，而是让它们变得柔韧，让它们各司其职。本质上它并不是标新立异的产物，它与许多古老的哲学流派相符。比如，它赞同唯名论，永远关注细节；赞成功利主义，强调实用的方面；赞成实证哲学，厌恶用语言解决问题，讨厌无用的问题及形而上学的抽象概念。

你可以看到，所有这些都有反智主义的倾向。在反对理性主义的主张及方法论上，实用主义是全副武装，激进好战的。但是至少，在开始阶段，它并不意味着某种具体的结果。它没有教条，也没有教义，只有方法。年轻的意大利实用主义家帕皮尼说得好，这个方法存在于我们的理论之中，就像饭店的走廊一样。走廊之外是许多的房间。走进一个房间，你会看到一个人正在大写特写无神论；隔壁房间里，有人正跪在地上，为信念与力量祈祷；到了第三间房，化学家正在研究物体的特性；第四间房里，一群理想主义的形而上学家们正在深思熟虑地谋算；第五间房里正展示着形而上学的不可能性。但他们都挨着走廊，要想出入各自的房间，他们必须经过走廊。

实用主义方法没有特定的结果，仅仅是一种态度倾向而已。一种不看最初的事物、准则、“类别”、假设的必要性，一种只看最终状态的事物、结果、后果及事实的态度。

实用主义方法就说到这里！你可能说，我刚刚是在为它唱赞歌，而不是解释它，但现在我将充分地解释如何把这一方法应用于我们熟悉的一些问题上。同时，实用主义一词现在具有更广泛的意义，也意味着某种真理上的理论。我的意思是，在做完铺垫后，我可以简洁而完整地阐述这一理论。但是做到简洁可不容易，所以我希望在这短暂的时间里，大家能给予双倍的关注。如果还是不清楚，我希望能在其后的课堂上，把它解释得更明白。

我们这个时代发展得最成功的哲学流派之一是所谓的归纳式逻辑，即对我们各个科学得以发展在条件方面的研究。当数学家、物理学家和化学家们阐述这个主题时，他们开始在自然的规律以及构成事实的要素方面表现出相同的理解。在他们发现了第一批数学上、逻辑上、自然方面的统一性及第一批规律时，人类对结果中呈现的清晰、美妙和简洁着迷不已，他们相信自己确实已经破译出了万能的上帝那永恒的思想。他的思想里也有雷声阵阵，会折射在三段论的推理中。他的思维也呈圆锥体状、正方形状，他的思维中还有方程根，有比率，也像欧几里得一样研究几何。他让整个星球按照开普勒定律运转，他使坠落的物体在不同的时间按比例增速；他让光线遵循正弦定律产生折射；他设立阶级、秩序、家庭、动植物的属类并固定他们之间的距离。他想出了所有事物的原型，又设计了他们的变体；当我们重新发现他那完美体制中任何一部分时，我们在他原始的设计中，掌握了他的思想。

但是随着科学进一步发展，多数定律（也许是所有定律）只是近似值的观点渐入人心。而且规律本身发展数额庞大，数都数不清；而且不同学科所提出的公式相互对立，这让研究者们都习惯性地认为，理论完全不是现实的副本，而只是从某个角度看有价值而已。理论在总结过去的事实，为发现新的事实起很大的铺垫作用。理论不过是人写出来的文字，是观念的速记，就像有人这样描绘它们：理论是我们写的关于自然的报告；而众所周知的是，语言能容纳多样的表达，同时还存在很多方言。

这种人类的武断把必要的神性从科学的逻辑中驱逐出去。如果我提到以下这些名字：西格沃特、马赫、奥斯特瓦尔德、皮尔森、米约、庞加莱、迪昂、胡西恩，你们当中的学生们能轻而易举地辨认出我所指的流派，而且还能想到更多的名字。

在这股科学逻辑的大浪潮前，席勒和杜威先生现身说法，在谈到无处不在的真理昭示着什么的时候，饱含着实用主义的内涵。这些大师们说，我们的思想信念中存在的“真理”与科学中的真理是一回事。他们会说，真理的含义是，某个想法之所以成为真理，是因为它能让我们与实践体验中的其他部分达成恰当的关系（想法本身也是我们实践体验的一部分），它能帮助我们总结其他部分，让我们用概念上的捷径体验这个世界，而不是遵循现象连续不断、无休无止的过程的方式。也就是说，真理是任何我们能够驾驭的观点，能让我们轻易游走于各种实践体验，能令人满意地将事物联系起来，作用稳定，能简化事物，能节约劳力；真理是有局限性的真理，有条件的真理，能起到功效的真理。这便是在芝加哥大学深入人心的真理“功效”论，也是在牛津广为流传的一个观点：我们思想中的真理意味着他们有能力“起作用”。

杜威、席勒先生及其盟友们，在明白所有真理这一普遍概念的时候，只是追随了地质学家、生物学家和古典文学家们的步伐。在创立这些新科学的过程中，成功的一步总是选择操作过程中可观察到、不复杂的过程——用风干的方式去除标本的覆盖物，或者从亲本标本中得到变体，或通过糅合新词和发音，改变方言——然后再进行总结，将之应用到不同的时期，再通过总结各个时期产生的效果，产出不一般的结果。

席勒和杜威特别挑出、可供观察、加以总结的过程是个体所熟悉的、能产出新观点的事物。这个过程总是相同的。个体已经存储了一些旧观点，但是他碰到了让他紧张的新情况。有人质疑这些旧观点，或者经过反思后，他发现这些观点相互矛盾；或者他听到了与旧观点不相宜的事实；或者他心中升起的想法是旧观点无法摆平的。结果是，他的思想完全不了解他心中产生的困扰，他也因此想逃离过去思想的樊篱。他尽可能保留旧的观念，因为在信仰这件事上，我们都是极端的保守分子。所以他尝试改变最初的想法，再改变其他想法（因为这些想法以各种形式拒绝改变），直到最后他产生某种新思想，它可以被移植到旧观念中，极少扰乱旧观念，它介于新旧经验之间，极其得体而又方便地融入其中。

于是，这种新思想被奉为真理。它保存了旧真理的内容，尽可能少地改动旧真理，但又让旧真理有拓展，能容纳新意，但是尽可能自然地达成这些。一个离经叛道、颠覆我们所有“先见”的说法永远不会被人误认为是有新意的解释。我们应当勤快地修修补补新想法，直到觉得不古怪。个体信仰中最激烈的革新也会让他以前内心的秩序站稳脚跟。时间和空间，因与果，自然与历史，以前的经历，这些统统没有被触及到。新真理总是中间人，是变迁的润滑剂。它让新旧观念联姻，让人极少看到不稳定，极大地展示连续性。看一个理论是不是真理，要看它在解决“最大量和最小量问题”上有多成功。但这个成功也是非常粗略的。当我们说一个理论比另一个理论总体上更令人满意地解决了这个问题时，我们的意思是，更令我们自己满意，而个体的满意又因人而异。因此，从某种程度上看，所有这方面的事情都是有弹性的。

我现在鼓励大家特别关注的一点是旧真理所扮演的角色。忽视这一点是许多对于实用主义不公正批评的根本原因。旧真理绝对产生了控制性的影响。对旧真理的忠诚是最首要的原则——而在很多实例中，这也是唯一的原则；因为迄今为止，处理足以扰乱旧有观念格局的新现象的方法，要么是对此全盘忽视，要么是毁谤新现象的见证者。

你当然会希望我能举个真理发展过程的例子，但问题是，这样的例子太多了，无处不在。最简单的新真理的例子当然是，在我们的经验中，增加了许多新事实，或者旧事实中又增添了新现象——这些增长都无须改变旧有的信念。日复一日，它们仅仅累加起来。新内容本身并不是真理，它们只是出现了，存在着。真理是我们对它们的解释，当我们说它们出现了，只需用加法就能对付。

但是，每天出现的内容常常要求新格局。假设，现在我在台上发出刺耳的尖叫，表现得像疯子一样，这会让你们许多人改变想法，重新思考我的哲学理论可能具有的价值。有一天，“镭”成为了世界的组成内容，但似乎偶尔会与我们对于自然整体秩序的观念相冲突，因为这个秩序需要能量守恒定律才能发现。镭元素无限自动地释放能量，这似乎有悖于能量守恒定律。那么应该怎么思考？如果镭的辐射物仅仅是某种未被发现的、早已存在于原子核中的“势能”的泄漏，那么能量守恒定律就能站得住脚。氦是辐射产物的发现便是这一想法的体现。所以，拉姆齐的观点总体上是正确的，因为尽管它扩展了我们对能量的旧观点，却只进行了最小的改动。

我并不需要繁多的例证。新观点被视为“正确”的概率与它多大程度上满足了个体希望将新旧观念同化整合的愿望成正比。它必须以旧真理为支撑，又抓住了新事实；要成功地做到这点（就像我刚刚提及的一样），关乎个体的欣赏问题。增添了新真理，旧真理就向前发展了，这种情况主要在于主观的原因。最恰如其分地完成使命，满足我们双重紧迫任务的新念头，就是最正确的。通过这种方式，它使自己变成正确的，让自己跻身真理的行列；站在旧真理的肩上，它欣欣向荣，就像一棵因为新的形成层而茁壮成长的树。

现在，杜威和席勒继续归纳这个观察结果，并将之应用到最古老的真理中。这些真理曾经也很灵活，也曾被称之为人类理性的真理。他们也促成了更早的真理和那时还算新颖的意见之间的调解。纯客观真理，即让新旧体验无从结合的真理，是无处可循的。我们称事物为真理，原因在于它们是正确的，正确的含义是它具有这种结合的功能。

人类犯错的痕迹无处不在。独立的真理，我们所发现的纯粹的真理，不迎合人类需求的真理；总之，无法纠正的真理。这种真理真的无处不在，数量庞大——或者人们希望这种真理存在于思维理性的思考者脑中；但如果那样的话，它只意味着在一棵活生生的树里跳动着一颗死气沉沉的心，它的存在意味着真理也要遵循古生物学的规律，它开出的处方积年累月地使用，变得死板；因为年代久远，它们在人的眼中变得僵化。但是在我们的时代里，数理逻辑观念的转变生动地展示了即使是最古老的真理也的确可以变得灵活、有弹性，这一转变甚至似乎也占领了物理学的地盘。古老的公式被重新解读，看作是更广泛原理的特别表述，这些原理是我们的祖辈处在那个时代时未曾观察到的。

席勒先生仍然给所有这样的真理观起了个名字——“人本主义”。但是，对于这样的真理观而言，实用主义的影响显然日渐增长，所以在这些演讲中，我将称之为实用主义。

所以，实用主义的范畴将包括——首先，一种方法；其次，真理为何物的根源解释。我们肯定会选这两个议题作为以后的话题。

我确信，我对真理的解释显得晦涩，它的简洁也会让大家不满足。我随后会做改进。在一个关于“常识”的讲座里，我会尝试解释什么是会随着时间的推移而变得僵化的真理。而在另一个讲座，我会详细解释我们的思想会因为它们成功地扮演了调解员的角色而变成真理。第三个讲座，我会说明，在真理的发展过程中，辨别主客观因素的艰难。也许你们并不会把三个讲座都听完；如果都听完，你也许不会完全赞同我的观点，但我知道，你至少会认为我的态度是严肃的，我的努力是值得尊敬的。

然后，你们也许很可能会吃惊地发现，席勒和杜威先生的理论已遭受到了冰雹似的轻蔑与谩骂。全体理性主义都朝他们举起了反对的大旗。尤其是席勒先生，在一些有影响力的季刊上，他被当作讨揍的鲁莽小男生一样对待。我不该提到这件事，但只是为了说明一个事实：它从侧面充分地映衬出理性主义与实用主义大相径庭的秉性。一旦脱离事实，实用主义会不自在。而只有抽象的概念，理性主义才会自在。当一个实用主义者谈论不同条件下的真理，谈论真理的实用性和可接受性，谈论真理要有用才行等等时，这一切，在典型的理智主义者眼中，只是粗糙蹩脚的、二流的、滥竽充数的道理。这些道理不是真正的真理。这些测试也只是主观臆测。与之相反的是，客观的真理必须是非实用性的，是傲视一切的，是精雕细琢的，是关乎未来的，是令人生畏的，是被人颂扬的。它必须是我们的思想与同等绝对的事实之间绝对统一的关系。它必须是我们应该无条件想到的。视条件而进行的思考与哲学无关，而是心理学上的事情。在这个问题上，心理学被打倒，而逻辑学受拥护。

看看这截然不同的想法吧！实用主义者紧贴事实和具体的情况，观察真理在具体实践中起到的作用并进行总结。对实用主义者而言，真理已成为实践中所有具体而有实用价值的这类事物的代名词。对理性主义者而言，真理仍然只是纯粹的抽象，是我们必须服从的空洞的名称。当实用主义者着手详细地说明我们为什么必须服从的时候，理性主义者无法认出他的抽象概念来源的具体情况。他指责我们否认真理；而我们仅仅尝试找出人们服从以及必须一直服从的原因。你这超抽象派艺术家面对具体的情况时那么战战兢兢：在同等条件下，如果有两个宇宙可以选择，他总会选择轮廓瘦削的，而不是长满现实丛林的。那可纯粹得多，清楚得多，也高贵得多。

我希望这些讲座进行的同时，受提倡的实用主义在事实方面做到的具体化和清晰化能自动地向你证明，它们的独特性是令人满意的。它只是遵循了兄弟科学的例子，用已知的事物去理解未知的事物。它让新旧事物相互融洽共处。它将我们的思想与现实之间那一成不变的“一致性”——这个绝对空洞无物的概念——转换成我们的具体想法与由其他实践体验组成的大宇宙之间丰富而积极的互动（这种互动人人都能根据细节说明进行、人人都理解）。在这个宇宙中，每个实践体验都各司其职、各尽其用。

这点现在就说到这里。必须推迟证明我所说的话是正确的。我现在希望就我们上次会面时我下的一个定论，进一步地解释说明：实用主义可以协调经验主义的思维与人类偏宗教方面的需求之间的关系。

要与事实形成协调统一的关系，生性喜欢事实的人们离此可能有一定的距离，这是当今理想主义哲学造成的。它太过唯智主义化。老套的有神论也不好，它相信上帝是应当高歌颂扬的君主，它秉性晦涩而荒谬；但是，只要它坚决站在设计论的对立面，它便留有些许具体的事实。但是，因为达尔文主义曾把设计论从所有“科学化”的头脑中赶走了，有神论便失去了立足之本。还有那些立足事物本身（而非高高在上）、无处不在或泛神化的神，如果存在，这样的神是值得向现在的人们推荐的类型。一般来说，对圣明宗教渴望的人现在更多地投奔理想主义的泛神论而不是老套的二元有神论，尽管他们知道后者仍然算得上有力的卫士。

但是，就像我在第一次讲座中说过的一样，如果他们热爱事实或者有实验意识，泛神论的烙印令他们很难被同化。它是专制的名字，摒弃尘土，手捧纯粹的逻辑。它与具体性没有联系。因为宣称绝对意念，也就是上帝的替代品，是所有具体事实存在的理性前提，所以，它毫不关心我们这个世界究竟存在着些什么具体事实。不管事实可能会是什么样，上帝会疏远他们。与《伊索寓言》里的病狮一样，除了nullavestigia lretrorsum（走出去的痕迹），所有的脚印都通向他的洞穴。你不可能因为上帝的帮助，重新拥抱充满个体的世界，也不会因为了解上帝的本性，就推断出对你生命重要的一些细节所产生的绝对后果。他真的会让你确信，他所有的一切都是好的，因为他的思维是永恒的；但是他因此让你被非永恒的手段有限地救赎。

我的本意不是要否认这个观念的庄严性，或是否认它有能力让最尊贵的群体享受宗教带来的安慰。但是从人的角度看，没人会假装说，它没有因为间接性和抽象性而受损。很明显，它是我斗胆称之为理性主义德行的产物。它蔑视实验主义的需求。它用一个苍白无力的轮廓代替了真实世界的丰富多彩。它是贬义上的冠冕堂皇、高贵显赫。从这个意义上看，对于所起的简单作用而言，高贵是不合适的说法。在这个由汗水和尘土交织起来的世界里，对我来说，如果看待事情的角度是“高贵”，那只能被认为是对真理的背叛，在哲学上的不合格。黑暗王子也许是位绅士，就像别人说的那样，但是无论天地之神是什么，他肯定不能做绅士。人类纠结的、如尘土般的生活需要他简单的服务，这个需要比苍天需要他高贵要强烈得多。

现在，尽管实用主义也倾心于事实，却并没有像普通实证论者们那样有唯物主义的偏好。而且，只要你在抽象概念的帮助下，在具体事实范围内思考，而这些概念确实能把你引导到某个地方，实用主义对抽象概念就没有任何异议。因为感兴趣的不是结果，而是我们的思想与实践协力合作这一点，所以实用主义对神学没有先验的偏见。如果神学观点证明对具体的生活有价值，对实用主义来说，它们就是正确的，当然也只是这个程度上的正确。至于它们是否有更大程度上的正确性，这完全依赖于它们与已知其他真理之间的关系。

我刚刚讲到的超验理想主义中的上帝就是一个很恰当的例子。首先，我说它是庄严的，说它让一群智者享受到了宗教带来的舒适，然后我谴责了它的间接和贫乏。但是既然它能给人以享受，它当然就不是贫乏的；它有一定量的价值；它起到了具体的作用。作为一名有素养的实用主义者，我自己应当认为它此时此刻是正确的，而现在我毫不犹豫地这么做了。

但是在这个例子里，此时此刻是正确的，这是什么意思呢？要找到答案，我们只需应用实用主义的方法。当上帝的信奉者们说他们的信仰带来舒适感觉的时候，他们是什么意思？他们的意思是，既然有上帝庇护，有限的邪恶已被消灭，所以，不管我们何时会有这样的愿望，我们可能会理所当然地把现世的事物当成永恒的事物，可能有把握相信它的效果，可能会毫无罪恶感地驱逐我们的害怕，放下我们对有限责任的担忧。简而言之，他们的意思是，从现在到以后，我们有权利给道德放放假，让世界按照原本的方式运转，因为我们觉得世上的事情掌控在比我们强的人的手中，我们无须上心。

宇宙是个系统，在这个体系中，个体成员也许偶尔会放松他们的焦虑，无所谓的情绪对人来说也是正确的。有序的道德假期——如果我没弄错的话，至少是人们所了解到的上帝的一部分，是上帝作为真实存在给我们的具体实践所带来的大不同，是他被实用主义解读后为我们产生的实用价值。与此相去甚远的是，在哲学界，认同绝对唯心论的平庸领头人不敢改进自己的观念。他只在有限条件下使用上帝，有限条件又很稀罕。听你们说不相信上帝，他会感到痛苦，所以，不要理会他对你的批评，因为这些批评说的都是他无法理解的概念。

如果上帝意味着这些，且仅意味着这些，谁又可能否认它的正确性？要否认它就等于坚持认为人类不应该放松自己，放假永远是不合时宜的。

听到我说只要一个观点能为我们的生活带来益处，它就是正确的。对你们中的一些人而言，我很清楚这个说法显得奇怪。但你也许会接受这样的说法：它的好处视其带来益处的多少而定。如果在它的协助下，我们做的事情是善的，你会允许这个想法本身在这种情形下是正确的，因为这个想法会让我们变得更好。但是，你会说，凭这个原因而判断观点的正确与否，难道不是对“正确”一词的误用吗？

在我阐述的这个阶段，完整地回答这个难题是不可能的事情。你在这个问题上触及到了席勒先生、杜威先生和我对于真理信条的核心点，这个部分会在我第六场演讲中涉及。让我现在只说这些，真理是善的物种，而不像大家常以为的是与善不同、与善并列的种类。真理便是在信仰的方式上，能证明自己是善的事物，它的善有确凿而特定的原因。你当然必须承认这一点：如果正确的观念里没有对生活有好处的成分，或者如果知道这些观念会惹来麻烦，而唯一有用的是错误的观点，那么现在大家的理念——真理是神圣而珍贵的，真理的追求是人的义务——不可能发展起来，或成为信条。在那样一个世界，我们的责任就是避开真理。但在现在的这个世界里，有些食物不仅合我们的口味，还适合我们的牙齿、胃和身体组织；同理，也有一些观点不仅让人欣然接受，或因为支持我们青睐的其他观点而令人惬意，而且他们还要有助于解决实际生活中的矛盾。如果存在我们应当为之奋斗的更美好的生活，如果存在能把我们引向更好生活的思想（前提是你相信它），那么除非这种信仰恰巧与其他更重大、必不可少的利益相冲突，我们最好还是相信这样的思想。

“我们最好相信的事物！”这听起来很像真理的定义。这类似于说“我们应当相信什么”：你们不会在那个定义中发现任何古怪的东西。我们是否应该不相信我们最好相信的东西？我们是否必须将我们最好相信的概念与我们认为正确的概念永远割裂开来呢？

实用主义说不，我也完全赞同她。就抽象概念而言，或许你也会同意，但会抱有这样的怀疑：如果实践中相信所有有利于我们个体生活的东西，我们该会发现自己沉溺于这世上所有的幻想，沉溺于所有关于来生的感伤迷信中。你的这个怀疑当然很有理由，很明显当你从抽象切换到让事情变复杂的具体时，总有事情会发生。

我刚刚说到，除非恰巧与其他更重大的、必不可少的利益相冲突，否则最好相信的东西就是正确的东西。现在，在真实的生活中，有什么重大的利益可能与某个具体的信仰相冲突呢？除了由与以前的信仰不融洽的其他信仰产生的重大利益，还能有什么重大利益呢？换句话说，我们所信仰的某个真理最大的敌人也许就是其他真理。真理有强烈的自我保护本能，有消除异己的本能。我相信绝对，那是基于它给我带来的好处，这个信仰必须突破我的所有其他信仰的重围才能成立，它必须赞同给我放道德大假。无论如何，正如我设想的这样——现在让我悄悄地说，从某种程度上只代表我自己说说——它与我信仰的其他真理相冲突，我非常不愿意因为它而放弃这些真理给我带来的好处。它碰巧与我反对的逻辑有关联，我发现它让我陷入了难以接受的形而上学矛盾中，等等，等等。但是，当我的生活中已存在很多矛盾，无法再承受这些智力矛盾的时候，我自己就会放弃对上帝的信仰。我只需选择道德大假这部分，或像哲学行家一样选择其他部分。我再尝试用其他原则加以证明。

如果我把对绝对世界的信仰仅仅局限于它能让人在道德上休息的价值方面，它便不会与我信仰的其他真理相冲突。但我们无法那么轻易地限制我们的假设前提。它们有多余的特征，正是这些特征引发了冲突。我对上帝的怀疑其实就是对那些多余特征的怀疑，因为我完全相信道德大假的合法性。

你看，我把实用主义称为中间人或调解人的时候，借用了帕皮尼的一个词，她让我们的理论变得“灵活”。事实上，她对于称为证据的东西没有任何偏见，没有妨碍性的教条，没有死板的标准。她完全是和蔼的。她愿意考虑任何前提，也考虑证据。在宗教领域，因为反神学论的倾向，实用主义比讲究实证的实证论有优势；因为对思考方式上的间接性、高贵性、简洁性和抽象性情有独钟，实用主义又比宗教理性主义更有优势。

简而言之，她拓宽了搜寻上帝的范围。理性主义坚持逻辑和至高天。实证主义坚持外部理性。为了遵循逻辑或理性，为了考虑最卑微、最个人化的经验，实用主义愿意接受任何事物。如果神秘体验有实用价值，她也会考虑。如果上帝生活在尘世，如果尘世很可能看到上帝的身影，她也会接受这个上帝。

她测试真理的唯一标准是什么能最好地引导我们，什么能最好地嵌入生活中的方方面面，什么能把所有体验整合在一起。如果神学思想能做到这点，如果上帝的理念能证明这点，实用主义又怎能否定上帝的存在？把有实用价值的观点看作不正确的，她觉得没有任何意义。对她而言，除了与具体现实一致的真理之外，还能有什么其他真理呢？

在我最后一个讲座里，我会重新谈论实用主义与宗教的关系。但是，你们已经看到了她民主的一面。她的方式也灵活而多样，她的资源有着无穷无尽的丰富，她的结论就像大自然母亲一样友好。

［1］　传说中夜间帮助做家务的小精灵。——译者注

一些从实用主义考量的形而上学的问题

现在，我要举例说明如何运用实用主义的方法理解一些具体的问题，让你们更了解这种方法。我要从最枯燥的开始，我选择的第一个问题便是关于“本体”的问题。大家采用的是本体与特性两者之间陈旧的差异，这种差异就像任何一种人类语言中，主语跟谓语之间的差别一样。现在就拿一截黑板粉笔打比方。不管使用什么样的术语，它的样式、特性、性能、非本质属性或喜好，分别是白色、易碎性、圆柱形、不溶于水等。但是，这些特性的载体是白垩，而它便可称为这些特性赖以存在的本体。同理，这张桌子的特性存在于本体“木头”，我所穿大衣的特性存在于本体“羊毛”等。白垩、木头和羊毛，尽管各不相同，却再次表现出相似的功能。它们自身被认为体现了更根本的本体——物质，它有空间占有性及不可穿透性的特性。同理，我们的思想和情感体现了我们不同灵魂的喜好或性能，灵魂即本体，但不尽如此，因为它们体现了更深层次的本体——“精神”。

如前所示，我们对白垩的认识是白色、易碎性等；我们对木头的认识是可燃性及纤维结构。每种本体都是通过一组特性被认识，只有特性为我们的亲身体验形成了实实在在的“价值”。任何情况下，本体都是透过特性被揭晓认识的；如果把我们与事物的特性分割开来，我们应该无从发现事物的存在；如果上帝一成不变地向我们传达这些特性的信息，结果是，他有时会奇迹般地废除了起支撑作用的本体，而我们也无从辨别什么时候会发生这样的事情，原因是我们的体验本身会纹丝不变。唯名论者因此认为，本体这一概念是虚假的，因为我们喜欢将名字变成事物本身，我们对这个把戏还乐此不疲。自然现象是成类出现的：如白垩类、木头类等。每一类都有自己的名字。名字被我们当作说明一类现象的方式。比如，今天用的体温计应当来源于名为“气候”的事物。气候其实不过是某类日子的指代名称，但它却被当作日子背后的支撑物。总之，我们将名称当作其所指代事物本身，就像名称本身是一种客观存在一样。但唯名论者会说，事物可感知的性能当然不是真的存在于名称本身，而如果不存在于名称，他们便不存在于任何事物中。相反，这些性能之间相互依附、相互联系。我们认为是难以触摸到的本体支撑了这种联系，也解释了这种联系，就像水泥能将一片片的马赛克拼接在一起一样。但是，这种观念必须被摈弃。存在联系这个事实本身是本体这个概念所代表的全部意义。这一事实背后，什么都不存在。

经院哲学将本体概念从常识中剥离，让它有专业而清晰的内涵。没有事物比本体给我们带来更少的实用效应，我们与它有千丝万缕的联系，却被从中隔断。但有一次，经院哲学以实用的态度处理了本体概念，由此证明了本体观的重要性。我指的是关于圣餐之谜的某些争论。本体在这里表现出重大的实用价值。上帝的晚餐餐桌上，因为圣饼的非本质属性是一成不变的，而它也已然成为了耶稣身体的一部分，所以变化肯定只发生在本体上。圣饼作为面包的本体定然消失，而替之以作为圣物的本体，其看得见摸得着的性能却出人意料地没有任何变化。尽管这些性能没有变化，但其间却有相当大的区别，至少表现在，我们这些接受圣饼的人却被“款待”了一顿神性的本体。本体的概念深入生活领域，而且如果你承认不同的本体可以从其非本质属性分离出来，并随后可以相互交换这些属性的话，它将产生巨大的效应。

这只是我唯一知道的对于本体观的实用主义应用；而且显然，只有那些站在客观独立的立场上，相信其“真实存在”的人才会严肃对待。

伯克利对物质本体的批判栩栩如生，让他的名字响彻其后的哲学圈。他对物质概念的处理人尽皆知，只需一提便可。迄今为止，与我们否认熟悉的外部世界不一样的是，伯克利证实了它。经院哲学对于我们触摸不到的物质本体抱有这样的理念：它存在于外部世界的背后，比外部世界更深刻、更真实，而外部世界也需要它的支持。在所有把外部世界贬为非真实存在的人中，伯克利仍是做得最有成效的。他曾说，抛弃本体，相信你能理解也能接触到的上帝，他直接向你传递了这个理性世界，你相信后者，而且你的信任是建立在他的神威之上。伯克利对于物质的批判说到底绝对是实用主义的。通过知觉，如物质的色彩、形状、硬度等，我们了解了物质。这些知觉是这个词表象的价值。把物质当作一种客观存在，它带来的不同在于我们由此能产生知觉；物质不是一种客观存在的话，我们便缺少知觉。这些知觉于是成为了物质的唯一意义。伯克利不否认物质；他只是告诉了我们物质的组成。从知觉的角度看，物质这一术语的内涵不过就这些。

洛克及其后的休谟采用了相似的实用主义手法批判精神本体的概念。在此我只论述洛克如何处理个体身份这一概念。他从体验的角度直接将这个概念缩小到它的实用主义价值方面。他说道，这个概念的意义不过在于“意识”，比如我们在生命中某一时刻记着其他时刻，并觉得这些其他时刻是某个整体或同一个人历史中的一部分。理性主义用灵魂本体的整体性解释了我们生活实践中存在的连续体。但洛克解释道：“假如上帝将意识带走了，灵魂原理会让我们生活得更好吗？假如上帝让不同的灵魂拥有相同的意识，我们的自我意识又会让现状更糟糕吗？”在洛克生活的年代，灵魂的用途就是受奖励或受惩罚。我们可以看看洛克如何从这个角度让这一问题变得有实用价值：

“假设，”他说，“一个人认为他与内斯特［1］或瑟赛蒂兹［2］拥有一样的灵魂。他是否应该把他们的行为视为自己的行为，而不是曾经存在于历史中的人物的行为？但是，如果让他偶尔发现自己感知到了内斯特的行为，那么，他会把自己和内斯特当作一个人……在这种情形下，个人身份的获得完全仰仗于奖与罚。”也许这样想才是合理的：不应该让任何人回答他一无所知的问题，而是应该让他接受自己的命运，以及无论是受褒奖还是受惩罚的意识。假设，一个人现在因为前世所犯的错误而受到惩罚，他因此而丧失了意识，那么，这样的惩罚与投错胎又有何区别呢？

所以，对于洛克而言，我们的个人身份仅仅存在于真真切切、定义明确的具体事物中。除了这些可信的事实外，它是否也存在于某种精神原理中，这只是一个让人好奇的推测。洛克，尽管有所妥协，默默地容忍了人们相信在意识背后真实地存在着灵魂。但是他的继承者休谟及其后的多数实证派的心理学家们否认了灵魂，除了用以指代我们内心世界中确凿存在的整体。他们让灵魂流回到体验的河流中，通过许多“概念”及其相互间特定的联系，把灵魂拆解成许多具有微观价值的东西。正如我解释的伯克利所说的物质一样，灵魂也只是在这种情形下是好的或真实的，仅此而已。

一提到物质本体便容易暗示具有“物质主义”的教条，但是，作为一种形而上哲学的原则，哲学意义上的物质未必一定与信仰中的物质纠缠在一起。也许从那个意义上，一个人可能会否认物质，就像伯克利过去那样激烈。也许他跟赫胥黎一样是现象论者，但是一个人仍可以是更广泛意义上的物质主义者：用低级事物来解释高级事物，将世界的命运放诸大自然中更盲目的那部分力量上。就是因为这层更广泛的意义，物质主义与唯灵论或有神论意见相左。唯物主义会说，让世界运转起来的是物质世界的定律。唯心论主张，自然只存在于我们的意识中。不管是不是这样，人类天才的最高产物也许来自对事实完全了解的人，他们把事实从其物理条件中解析出来了。无论什么情况，我们的思想总是必须记录大自然，记下它通过未知的物理规律进行操作的情况。这便是当今唯物主义的性质，也许更好的称呼是自然主义。自然主义与有神论，或者说广义上的唯心主义不同。唯心主义会说，思想不仅见证并记录事物，也操控运转事物：世界便如此得以指引，不是通过低级事物的指引而是高级事物。

与平常的待遇一样，这个问题最后成为了更像审美偏好不同而引起的冲突。物质是粗略的、粗糙的、粗笨的、糊涂的；精神是纯洁的、崇高的、高贵的；因为它与宇宙的尊贵是一致的，将重点放在了看起来更高层次的事物上，所以精神必须被认定为统领性的原则。将抽象的原则当作最终的归宿，我们的智者在它面前顶礼膜拜，失去了思想，这是理性主义者最大的失败。就像大家常认为的那样，唯心主义也许只是对于一种抽象的崇拜，对另一种抽象的反感。我记得有位令人尊敬的唯心主义教授总把唯物主义叫作“泥腿子哲学”，认为它因此是可以驳倒的。

对于这类唯心主义，可以简单地予以答复，斯宾塞先生在这点上做得很好。在他的《心理》第一卷后几页写得很精彩，他告诉我们，极其微妙的物质在起作用时与现代科学假设的想象一样快，一样精密，没有一点儿粗糙的痕迹。他表示，神灵这个概念是我们这些凡人设想的概念，它本身太粗糙，无法承载自然世界中发生的精致又精细的事实。物质和神灵这两个名称，他说道，不过是象征符号，指出了他们的对手无法说明的未知现实。

对一个抽象化的异议，一个抽象化的回应便足够了。迄今为止，人们反对唯物论的根源是他们对于物质的厌恶，把物质当作“愚钝的”概念，所以斯宾塞先生从根源上驳斥了这种观点。物质确实是令人难以置信地极其精致。对于任何见过已过世了的孩子或父母的脸庞的人，物质能将那份珍贵保留一段时期，仅凭这一点就能让物质从此变得神圣。不管生命的准则是哪一种，物质的或非物质的，物质总会全力协作，让自己参与到所有不同的生活中。那种让人热爱的化身是物质能做到的事情。

但现在，说完这不景气的理性潮流之后，我们不要停留在原理的问题上，让我们将实用主义的方法应用到问题中去吧。我们所指的物质是什么？世界由物质，抑或神灵主宰，这会给实际生活带来什么样的区别？我想我们会发现，这个问题会因为这种区别而具备了不同的特点。

首先，我想让你们注意到一个令人好奇的事实。对于过去的世界而言，我们认为它是物质的作品还是由神灵制造的，这对它不会产生丝毫区别。

请想象一下，事实上，世界所有的内容都是一次性呈现的，而且不可逆转。假想它在此刻终止了，也没有未来；然后，让有神论者与唯物论者们用他们相左的看法来分析过去的世界。有神论者会说明上帝是如何创造世界的；同样，唯物主义能够一样成功地假设，说明世界是如何从盲目的自然力量中诞生的。然后，让实用主义者在两种理论中取舍。如果世界终止了，他又如何能进行测验？于他而言，概念是能回顾过去经验的东西，是能让我们看到区别的东西。但我们的假设是，既不会有新的经验，也找不到可能的区别。两个理论的结论都已展现，而考虑到我们的假设，这些结论是一回事。实用主义者最终会断言，尽管名字听起来不一样，两个理论的含义是一样的，两者之间的争论纯粹是空话（我料想，两者当然都成功地解释了自然为何物）。

为了真诚地思考这件事，让我们设想，如果上帝确实存在，他创造出了世界，而他的世界又将不复存在，他此时的价值是什么呢？他的价值不会大于世界的价值。在这样一个好坏掺半的结果中，他的创造力可以施展，却不能继续。因为没有未来，因为世界所有的价值和内涵都在情感中得以存储和实现，而情感随着世界来，现在又要随着世界走；因为世界预示未来的功能已不再有更大的意义（就像我们现在生活的真实世界一样）；那么，在这种情形下，我们为什么要因此接受算得上是上帝的安排呢。上帝是一种存在，他只创造了地球一次；对此，我们心怀感激，但也仅此而已。但现在，让我们看看相反的假设，即少量的物质通过遵循自身的规律，创造了那个世界，功劳也不小，难道我们不应该对它们同样心怀感激吗？这样做，我们会因为抛弃了上帝创世这个假设，选择物质而有所损失吗？世界会因此让死亡或愚昧有空可钻吗？因为体验只有一次，上帝的存在会让体验变得更生动或丰富吗？

坦白讲，这些问题没有答案。任何一种假设下，实际体验的世界具有一样的细节，就像布朗宁说过的那样，“无论赞与责，结果都一样”。它岿然屹立，难以推翻：就像一件送出去而无法收回的礼物。把世界归为物质的结果，不会让世界减少任何一样东西；同理，将之归为上帝，也不会令世界多一样东西。它们分别是这个世界的上帝，这个世界的原子，而不可能是另一个世界的上帝或原子。如果存在上帝，他做的事情跟原子做的一样——也表现出原子的特征，所以说——上帝应得到的感激与原子应得的是一样的，不多也不少。如果上帝的存在不能给世界的运转带来不同的转机或议题，他自然也不能为世界的崇高添砖加瓦。如果独留原子在舞台上唱独角戏，世界也不会因为上帝的缺席而变得不崇高。剧终谢幕时，不会因声称剧作者是一位杰出的天才，戏变得更好，就像它不会因你把剧作者叫作平庸的作者而变得糟糕一样。

所以，如果无法从我们的假设中推断出关于未来的体验或行为的细节，唯物论与有神论之争便是无聊的、没有意义的。在这场争论中，物质与上帝是一回事——是不多不少地创造了成品世界的力量——对此，理智的人应当对这越界的讨论不予理睬。如此一来，对于看不出来任何具体的、未来可能发生的后果的哲学争论，普通人会本能地，而实证主义者及科学家们则会有意地不予理会。哲学空泛的缺点是我们再熟悉不过的。如果实证主义成立，除非受质疑的理论能产生不同而有实际意义的结果，且不管这些结果是多么复杂、多么遥远，否则对它空泛性的谴责则是正确的。普通人和科学家说他们没发现这样的结果，而如果形而上学者也说没发现，其他人当然有权利反对形而上学者。如果这样，他的理论便只是夸夸其谈、无足轻重；而若因此授予他专家的头衔，就太愚蠢了。

因此，在任何一场真正意义上的形而上学的争辩中，必然涉及现实的议题，不管这些议题多么具有揣摩性，与当下相距多么遥远。要弄明白这点，你需要跟我一起重新回到我们的问题上，让自己置身于现实的世界里，一个有未来的世界，一个在我们讨论的这一刻仍有待完善的世界。在这仍未结束的世界里，唯物论还是有神论，变成了一个非常有实际价值的问题；这个问题值得我们花上几分钟弄明白它。

如果我们认为，迄今为止所有的体验事实都是无意识的原子，按永恒运转的规律，任意组合出来的产物，或者，我们认为这些事实都是上帝赐予的天意，这个过程对我们究竟会产生什么样的区别？对于已经发生的事实而言，确实没什么区别。它们已然发生，被尘封，被定格；不管是原子还是上帝促成了它们，它们带来的好处也已被享用。所以现在，我们的身边存在着许多这样的唯物论者：因为忽视了这一问题未来的方面及实用的方面，他们竭力想消除唯物论这个词给人带来的憎恶之情，甚至是消除这个词本身。他们表示，如果物质能创造这个世界的所有，那么从功能上看，为什么物质不能像上帝一样成为一个神圣的实体？事实上，你们所说的上帝是指与上帝结成的联合体。停，这些人建议我们从这两个说法中任选其一，尽管它们已经对立到了极点。一方面，使用没有任何神学内涵的词；另一方面，使用暗含粗野、愚钝、无知之意的表达。称之为至高无上的神秘、无人知晓的能量、唯一存在的力量，而不是称为上帝或物质，这便是斯宾塞先生敦促我们思考的方向；如果哲学纯粹是“回顾性”的话，他可因此而宣称自己是一名优秀的实用主义者。

但是哲学也是“瞻前性”的，发现了世界曾经是什么，曾经做过什么，曾经创造过什么之后，你仍需要再问一个问题“这个世界会带来什么？”赐予我们一种物质，受其规律的作用，把我们引向成功，让我们的世界比任何时候都接近完美，那么，不管多理智的人都会崇拜它，就像斯宾塞先生崇拜他口中那无人知晓的力量一样。它不仅现在是正当的，而且永远都是正当的，而它也正是我们需要的。上帝能做到的它也能做到，所以它就等同于上帝，它起到的作用跟上帝一样，它存在于一个上帝为多余的却无法正式避免的世界。在这个世界里，宗教的名字应该叫做“宇宙情感”。

但是，让斯宾塞先生的宇宙进化得以进行的物质，就是这种永远接近完善的原理吗？不，确非如此！因为科学已预示，每种宇宙中进化而来的事物，或由这类事物组成的体系，其未来的宿命只能是消亡的悲剧；在将自己束缚于美学原则、忽略这场争议具有实际价值的那一面的时候，斯宾塞先生对于缓和矛盾其实没起到作用。但是，现在让我们应用能产出实际结果的原则，你会看到，唯物论和有神论的争论便立刻具备了极其重要的意义。

有神论与唯物论，若从回溯过去的角度看，都表现平平；若从展望未来的角度看，两者指向的是截然不同的体验观。原因是，根据机械进化理论，物质与运动再分配定律无疑会残忍地再次毁灭两者的作品，让曾经进化的事物重新糅合，尽管他们肯定会感谢有机体曾给我们带来的美妙时光以及我们头脑中构思出的种种理想。得益于进化科学的远见卓识，你们都知道宇宙消亡时刻是幅什么样的景象。还是巴尔弗先生妙笔生花：“我们所生活的体系中的能量会衰退，太阳的辉煌会变得暗淡，地球不再潮起潮落，变得死气沉沉，它无法承载那偶尔打破它静谧的人类。人类将沦入地狱，人类的思想将不复存在。不安分的意识曾经在这暗淡的角落，短暂地打破了宇宙知足的沉默，它也将安息。物质不再有自我意识。‘不朽的丰碑’以及‘不朽的行为’、死亡本身、比死亡还强烈的爱情，所有这些都会经历就像他们从未存在一般的时刻。有相同经历的还包括，人类的劳动、天分、忠诚和苦难经年累月地努力奋斗、希望促成的事物，无论好坏。”

这便是它的痛处，在辽阔宇宙中神游的广大物体中，尽管出现了钻石般的海岸，尽管飘走了令人心醉的云堤，在世界被消解之前，它们会长期驻留——甚至就像现行世界为了我们的快乐而驻步停留一样——但是，当这些转瞬即逝的地球的产物消失的时候，没有任何事物，绝对没有任何事物能够代表它们曾代表的特征，代表它们曾供奉的珍贵。它们死亡了，消失了，从曾存在过的地球和空间中彻底消失了。没有回音；没有回忆；没有留下任何影响，让自己有志同道合的后来者。这种彻底的毁灭和悲剧便是大家现在所理解的科学唯物主义的精髓。低级事物，而非高级事物，才是永恒的力量，或者是我们唯一能亲眼所见的一个进化轮回里最后能存活的力量。对此，斯宾塞先生跟其他人一样确信无疑。所以，真正让我们沮丧的是随它而来的令人郁闷的将来。在这种情形下，为什么他还要与我们争辩，说我们是因为愚蠢的审美情结而拒绝“物质与运动”的“粗犷”，而拒绝他的哲学原则？

不，拒绝唯物主义的理由不是因为它拥有什么，而是因为它缺少什么。如若因为它本身，因为它的粗犷而抱怨它，今天看来是件可笑的事情。粗犷是指结果的粗犷——我们现在已明白这点。相反，我们对它抱怨是因为它缺少的东西——缺少对我们更理想化利益的永恒承诺，缺少对我们最遥远希望的满足。

另一方面，对上帝的信仰，在清晰度上不管比盛行于机械哲学中的数学理念逊色多少，至少，在实际生活中比它们强很多倍，因为它许诺了一个永恒存留的理想秩序。一个有上帝存在的世界，由上帝拍板定案的世界，可能会有冰火两重天，但我们仍然相信他不会忘记我们曾经的理想，相信他会让它们在别的地方得以实现；所以，只要有他在，悲剧只是暂时的，不会是全部，海难和死亡并不是最终的命运。对于永恒存在的道德秩序的需求是我们内心最深处所需要的。但丁和华兹华斯之类的诗人们，在生活中信仰这种秩序，并将他们诗歌中那非同寻常、振奋人心、平复伤痛的力量归功于这一事实。因此，唯物论与有神论两者的差异存在于它们在情感与实用性方面不同的吸引力，存在于我们对具体的希望和期望态度的调节中，存在于两者的差异所带来的具体而微妙的后果中——而不是吹毛求疵地追究物质内部本质的抽象特征，或上帝形而上的抽象特性。唯物论只意味着否定了道德秩序的永恒性，因而切断了最终的希望；唯心论意味着对永恒存在的道德秩序的肯定，因而放飞了希望。诚然，对于能够感受到的人们，这个问题真真切切地存在着；只要人类的本质不变，这个问题会引发一场关于物质的严肃的哲学论辩。

但是也许，你们中仍然会有人为两者进行辩护。即使承认了唯物论与唯心论关于未来世界的预测是不同的，你也会对这个不同不以为然，以为它离我们太过遥远，有理智的人是不会放在心上的。理智的人的本质，你可能会说，在于观察更近的事物，而不会因世界另一端之类的幻想而忧心忡忡。那我只能说，你这么说对人类的本性是不公平的。宗教中的忧思不会因为不理性这个词而被摈弃。绝对的事物、末日的事物、重叠交织的事物，这些真的都是哲学所关注的；所有才智超群的人都会认真对待这些事物，最“近视”的人不过是更浅薄而已。

在当下，对这场辩论中引起争论的事实，我们自然思考得不够仔细。但是各种形式中的唯心主义信念都关乎一个理想世界，而唯物主义的太阳则掉落在了失望的海洋里。记住我对上帝的阐述：它赐予了我们道德大假。任何宗教观都能做到这点。它不仅鼓舞了我们的艰难时日，也带走了我们的欢乐、粗心和信任，它让这一切显得正当。它把正当性的理由说得很含糊，这样才能更真切。信仰上帝，由此相信能拯救未来的种种事实，它们的精确特征必须用科学没完没了的方法计算出来：研究上帝，只需研究他的创造物。但在此之前，我们可以享受上帝带来的好处，如果有的话。我个人认为，上帝存在的证据主要来自个人内部世界的具体体验。当他们让你有了上帝，他的名字至少意味着能享受道德大假。你要记住我昨天所讲的，真理是如何沦落及如何相互牵连的。“上帝”的真实性必须经得起我们相信的其他真理的考验。只有当所有的真理都融为整体之后，我们才能树立对上帝最终的看法。让我们一起期待着，它们能相互妥协。

让我跳过去谈一个非常相关的哲学问题：自然的设计问题。从远古时代开始，人们就相信，自然中存在的某些事实能证明上帝的存在。在设计上，许多事实看起来明显你中有我，我中有你，相互照应。所以，啄木鸟的嘴、舌、爪、尾等都能让它完美地适应森林，而森林的树皮里还藏有虫子供它享用。我们的眼睛完美地适应了光照规律，让光线在我们的视网膜处形成清晰的图案。有人认为，不同物种之间的相互照应恰恰证明了设计的存在，而设计者总被大家当作宠爱人类的神。

这些论断的第一步是，证明设计确实存在。为此，要把大自然翻个底朝天，以找到不同事物相互协调的结论。比如，我们的眼睛生长于黑暗的子宫，光线源于太阳，但是它们是多么协调啊！它们就是为对方而生。视力是设计的目的，光线与眼睛都是为了得到视力而设计出来的，但它们之间又是相互独立的。

想想我们的祖先对此毫无疑问的态度，又看看在达尔文理论之后，这个观点日渐式微的现状，真让人感觉怪异。达尔文启发我们的思想，让我们认识到，只要偶发事件有时间整合自我，它就有能量制造“适者”。他举例说明，自然浪费了大量时间创造出最终因为不适应而被淘汰的产品。他也强调，如果真的存在设计，因为生物的适应性变化数量庞大，所以它只能证明，创造者是一个邪恶而非善良的设计者。至此，所有的理解都跟看问题的视角有关。要吃到树皮下的食物，啄木鸟在身体上需要做出剧烈的调整，从这点看，设计者当然很邪恶。

为了接受达尔文所说的事实，但也是为了让这些事实显得有神的意志，神学家到现在都在拓宽自己的思路。过去，这是一个目的与手段的问题，一个非此即彼的问题。这个问题就像一个人会说：“我的鞋当然是为适应我的脚而设计的，所以它们不可能是机器生产出来的。”我们知道两者都是成立的：鞋本身是机器生产出来的，但设计的目的是为了合脚。神学家只需要这样把上帝的设计范围扩大就行了。同理，足球比赛中，球队的目标并不仅仅是为了把球踢进某个球门（如果是这样的话，它们只需在某个黑漆漆的晚上起床，把球放在那儿即可），而是在某个固定的条件体系下完成这个动作——包括游戏的规则及对方球员等条件；因此，我们可以说，上帝的目标不仅仅是创造人类、庇护人类，而是通过自然庞大的体系所产生的作用，来达到这个目的。没有大自然惊人的规律和反作用力量，我们可以推测，人类的创造和完善对上帝来说是个了无生趣的议题。

这一点抛弃了老套的轻视人类作用的看法，挽救了关于设计的争辩。设计者不再是年迈的，长得像人的神灵。他设计的范围太广泛，让我们人类无从理解。弄明白有哪些设计已让我们难以应付，相比之下，再去弄清楚设计者是谁的问题，起不了什么作用。我们能够艰难地理解一个思想广袤无垠的人，并在真实世界里那好坏掺半、令人奇怪的组合体中，发现他的设计理念。或者更精确地说，我们压根不可能理解它。“设计”这个词本身起不到任何作用，也解释不了什么。它是最空洞的原理。是否存在设计，这个老生常谈的问题很无聊。真正的问题是，世界为何物。它是否有设计者——这个问题的答案只有通过研究所有自然界的具体事物才能得到。

记住，不管自然界可能已经生产，或正在生产着什么，它的生产手段必须充足，必须能适应它的生产活动。不管自然界产品的特点是什么，从适者生存到上帝创世说的争议最终总是适用的。比如，近期培雷火山的爆发，需要动用所有以前的历史知识，把受损的房屋、人类、动物的陈尸、沉没的轮船、火山灰等都组合在一起，放置在那骇人的地理位置上。法国必须作为马提尼克岛的宗主国出现。我们国家也必须参与其中，派遣船只。如果上帝的目的仅此而已，影响设计达几个世纪的手段便显示出了极致的智慧，还包括我们发现已然成形的事物，不管它们处于何种状态，是存在于历史还是自然中。因为事物的组成部分总是必须具备某种具体的合力，不管是处于混乱还是和谐的状况。当我们观察即将发生的事情时，必须出现正好能使其产生的条件。因此，我们总是能够说，在任何可理解的世界里，对任何可理解的特征来说，整个宇宙体系就是设计出来，创造出来的。

那么从实用主义角度看，“设计”这个抽象的词就是个空壳子。它本身没有任何重要性，它也无法执行什么任务。何为设计？设计者又是谁？这只是些严肃的问题。对具体事实进行探讨，也只能得到大概的答案。同时，在等待事实向我们揭晓答案的漫长过程中，对那些坚持认为存在设计者，设计者还是神灵的人，他们从这些理念中得到的实际好处，与上帝、灵魂或绝对这些词给我们带来的效果是一样的。如果“设计”仅仅作为高于事物、作用于事物之后的理性原则，供人顶礼膜拜的话，它一文不名。但如果我们将它具化成有神论的话，却能成为一个带来希望的词。当我们带着这样的观念进行实践时，我们对未来会更有信心。如果让万物运转起来的不是一股盲目的力量，而是有形可见的力量，我们有理由相信未来会更好。对未来抱有隐隐的信心，这是目前为止，设计和设计者这对词中存在的能让人辨别出来、具有实用价值的含义。这也是最重要的含义，如果巨大的信心是正确而非错误的，是更好而非更糟的选择。这些内容是这组词至少需要包含的正确成分。

现在让我们继续另一个饱受争议的命题：自由意志的问题。大多数人都是因为追随理性主义的潮流而信奉它的。它是一条原则，一种赋予人类的积极的才能或美德，人类的尊严也借此莫名其妙地得以提升。正是因为这一点，人类应该相信它。决定论者对此持否定态度，他们宣称人类个体没创造任何事物，而仅仅将过去宇宙中的整体推动力传播到未来，在过去的宇宙中，人类不过是个渺小的存在。决定论者贬低人类的价值。若剥去人类这个有创意的原则，人类便没那么值得赞美。我以为，你们中有一半人天生信奉自由意志，对它作为一项关乎尊严的原则进行崇拜很大程度上与你的忠诚有关。

但自由意志也曾被人从实用主义角度进行讨论，而且令人没有料到的是，论辩双方对它的实用主义解读是一样的。你知道，在伦理问题的争议中，责任一词起了很大的作用。若要审判人的行为，人们会设想，伦理学的着眼点在于一套有关美德与过失的规章。因为我们总对罪与罚感兴趣，我们也很想知道过去的法学与神学对此产生了什么样的影响。“该责怪谁？可以惩罚谁？上帝会惩罚谁？”——这些让人关注的事情，在人类的宗教历史上总像噩梦般萦绕左右。

所以，自由意志说与决定论都遭人诟病，被认为是荒唐的，因为在反对者的眼中，两者似乎都豁免了行动施与者们对于善行或恶行应承担的责任。这是多么离奇的自相矛盾啊！自由意志有新奇性的内涵，即为过去移植从未涉及过的内容。如果我们的行为是命中注定的，如果我们仅仅将过去的世界嫁接到未来，就像自由意志论者们所说的那样，那么我们怎么可能因为任何事情受到赞美或指责呢？我们应该只是“代理人”，而不是“委托人”，而我们宝贵的责任和义务又在何处呢？

但是，如果存在自由意志，它又体现在哪里呢？决定论者们会重新回到这个问题上。如果一个“自由的”行为是纯粹崭新的行为，不是来自之前的我，而是无中生有，自动追踪到我的身上，那么，过去的我又怎么可能为这个行为承担责任？我又如何拥有固定的身份，长期地接受别人给予的表扬或指责呢？当非命运论者们荒谬的信条将内在必要性这条细线拔断之后，我那生命的念珠便散落成一地的滚珠。富乐顿和麦格塔格两位先生最近高举这个论点，奋力追打这些滚珠。

如果是从个人偏好出发，也许还可以，但若相反的话，那就太可鄙了。因为，我来问你，除了别的原因，对于有现实识别力的男人、女人或小孩，当他们用尊严或归罪论之类的原则做借口时，应不应该感到羞耻？可以放心地让介于两者之间的天性与功利来承担惩罚与奖赏这样的社会事务。如果一个人施善行，我们表扬他，如果是恶行，我们便要惩罚他——不管怎么说，这与理论上看他的行为是由过去的自己发出的，还是严格意义上讲完全崭新的行为，相去甚远。让我们的道德规范在“善”这个问题上绕来绕去，既不现实，又让人可怜——上帝自己就能知道我们的善，如果我们有善行的话。自由意志假想的真正前提的确是务实的，但这与行使可鄙的权利，惩罚对曾经鼓噪一时的观点的讨论没有关系。

切实地看，自由意志意味着这个世界上存在崭新的力量，意味着有权期望未来不是一味地重复、模仿过去，不管是核心还是表象。那种模仿整个世界都存在，谁能对此进行否认呢？整体上“自然的统一性”是每条较低层次规律中预设的条件。但是，自然也许只是大体上统一而已；对于因为对世界过去历史的了解而有悲观情怀的人来说，他们也许会自然而然地奉自由意志论为上品。它至少支持进步的可能性，而决定论者让我们相信，我们这种可能性的观念是人类的无知造成的，而主宰世界的则是存在于事物之间的必要性及不可能性。

因此，自由意志论是关于希望的普遍宇宙观理论，就像绝对、上帝、神灵或设计一样。如果抽象地对待，这些概念会变得毫无内涵可言，说明不了任何情况；在一个从创立起到现在，已显然日臻完美的世界里，若如此对待，它们不可能保留一丁点儿实用的价值。如果世界已经是一片极乐天地，在我看来，对纯粹的存在、单纯的宇宙情感和快乐抱有的欣喜之情会让人们对那些猜测失去兴趣。我们对于宗教玄学的兴趣来源于这样一个事实：以实证方法推知的未来让我们觉得不安全，未来需要有更好的保障。如果过去与现在都是美好的，谁不希望未来也能一样？谁会期望自由意志呢？谁不会说，像赫胥黎所说的，“让我像时钟一样，只要每天上紧发条，就肯定能走得准，而我并不需要什么更好的自由。”在一个原本就完美的世界里，“自由”只是意味着可能变糟糕，谁会头脑发昏，希望这样的结局呢？让世界维持现状而不走样成为乐观主义精神世界测试完美的试金石。当然人类唯一的理性断言是，事物有可能变得更好。不需要我说，这种可能性，指的是我们有充足的理由来展望未来。

除非自由意志是一种起宽慰作用的教义，否则它会变得毫无意义，如果是这样，它与其他宗教教义的地位相当。它们撑起了过去的废墟，补救了以前的破败。我们的精神，被关闭在这理智与经验的小院子里，总对着灯塔上的智者说：“导航者啊，如果哪天夜晚有任何希望出现了，就告诉我。”智者于是给了精神这些代表希望的词语。

除了这一务实的意义外，上帝、自由意志、设计等这些词空洞无物。尽管它们本身是无光的，或者被当作唯智论，但是当我们在生命黑漆漆的丛林里，心想着它们的时候，我们的周围便有了光亮。如果你停下脚步，琢磨这些词，细想它们的定义，认为这才是智者的最终目标，你这又是在干什么呢？不过是傻傻地盯着一个自负的骗子！“上帝是实体，以惊人的力量存在于那里，是必要的，唯一的，无限的，完美的，简洁的，无毒能侵的，无可限量的，聪明的”等，——这里的定义真的启发性吗？这一长串夸张的形容词里存在的意义几乎为零。只有实用主义能从中解读出积极的意义，要做到那一点，她只需对唯智论的观点完全不理不睬。“上帝在天堂；人间也太平！”——这才是你神学理论的真正核心，而对此，你无须理性主义者下定义。

为什么我们大家，理性主义者和实用主义者们不应该承认这点呢？实用主义非但不是将眼睛盯在眼前的这一亩三分地，就像她常遭受的指责一样，相反，她对未来世界是高瞻远瞩的。

那么，让我们来看看所有这些终端的问题是如何出现转机的；从回顾原理，比如erkennntnisstheoretische Ich（认识论中的自我）、上帝、Kausalitätsprinzip（因果性原则）、设计、自由意志，它们自欺欺人，被当作令人敬畏并高于事实的事物，——看着，我要宣布，实用主义如何改变了重点，并自己从中找出事实来。对我们所有人都真正重要的是，这个世界将会变成什么模样？哲学的重心也因此必须改变。地球上的万物，长期被笼罩在更高级别物种的荣耀中，它们必须恢复自己的权利。以这种方式改变重点意味着，哲学问题的思考要落到不像从前那么抽象的人身上，落到风格更科学化、个人化却仍然有宗教信仰的人身上。这是一场堪与新教改革媲美的“权威坐席”的改变。就像在教皇信徒们看来，新教教义只是一场充满无序和疑惑的混乱，在哲学圈中的极端理性主义者眼中，实用主义常被视为哲学上的垃圾。但在新教国度里，生活之路，蜿蜒前行，直达终点。我斗胆认为，哲学的新教运动一样会取得辉煌成就。

［1］　特洛伊战争中希腊的贤明长老。——译者注

［2］　荷马史诗《伊利亚特》中的一名希腊士兵，喜欢骂人。——译者注

On a Certain Blindness

in Human Beings

William James

On a Certain Blindness in Human Beings

Our judgments concerning the worth of things, big or little, depend on the feelings the things arouse in us. Where we judge a thing to be precious in consequence of the idea we frame of it, this is only because the idea is itself associated already with a feeling. If we were radically feelingless, and if ideas were the only things our mind could entertain, we should lose all our likes and dislikes at a stroke, and be unable to point to any one situation or experience in life more valuable or significant than any other.

Now the blindness in human beings, of which this discourse will treat, is the blindness with which we all are afflicted in regard to the feelings of creatures and people different from ourselves.

We are practical beings, each of us with limited functions and duties to perform. Each is bound to feel intensely the importance of his own duties and the significance of the situations that call these forth. But this feeling is in each of us a vital secret, for sympathy with which we vainly look to others. The others are too much absorbed in their own vital secrets to take an interest in ours. Hence the stupidity and injustice of our opinions, so far as they deal with the significance of alien lives. Hence the falsity of our judgments, so far as they presume to decide in an absolute way on the value of other persons’ conditions or ideals.

Take our dogs and ourselves, connected as we are by a tie more intimate than most ties in this world; and yet, outside of that tie of friendly fondness, how insensible, each of us, to all that makes life significant for the other! - we to the rapture of bones under hedges, or smells of trees and lamp-posts, they to the delights of literature and art. As you sit reading the most moving romance you ever fell upon, what sort of a judge is your fox-terrier of your behavior? With all his good will toward you, the nature of your conduct is absolutely excluded from his comprehension. To sit there like a senseless statue, when you might be taking him to walk and throwing sticks for him to catch! What queer disease is this that comes over you every day, of holding things and staring at them like that for hours together, paralyzed of motion and vacant of all conscious life? The African savages came nearer the truth; but they, too, missed it, when they gathered wonderingly round one of our American travellers who, in the interior, had just come into possession of a stray copy of the New York Commercial Advertiser, and was devouring it column by column. When he got through, they offered him a high price for the mysterious object; and, being asked for what they wanted it, they said; ‘For an eye medicine,’ - that being the only reason they could conceive of for the protracted bath which he had given his eyes upon its surface.

The spectator’s judgment is sure to miss the root of the matter, and to possess no truth. The subject judged knows a part of the world of reality which the judging spectator fails to see, knows more while the spectator knows less; and, where-ever there is conflict of opinion and difference of vision, we are bound to believe that the truer side is the side that feels the more, and not the side that feels the less.

Let me take a personal example of the kind that befalls each one of us daily: -

Some years ago, while journeying in the mountains of North Carolina, I passed by a large number of ‘coves,’ as they call them there, or heads of small valleys between the hills, which had been newly cleared and planted. The impression on my mind was one of unmitigated squalor. The settler had in every case cut down the more manageable trees, and left their charred stumps standing. The larger trees he had girdled and killed, in order that their foliage should not cast a shade. He had then built a log cabin, plastering its chinks with clay, and had set up a tall zigzag rail fence around the scene of his havoc, to keep the pigs and cattle out. Finally, he had irregularly planted the intervals between the stumps and trees with Indian corn, which grew among the chips; and there he dwelt with his wife and babes - an axe, a gun, a few utensils, and some pigs and chickens feeding in the woods, being the sum total of his possessions.

The forest had been destroyed; and what had ‘improved’ it out of existence was hideous, a sort of ulcer, without a single element of artificial grace to make up for the loss of Nature’s beauty. Ugly, indeed, seemed the life of the squatter, scudding, as the sailors say, under bare poles, beginning again away back where our first ancestors started, and by hardly a single item the better off for all the achievements of the intervening generations.

Talk about going back to nature! I said to myself, oppressed by the dreariness, as I drove by. Talk of a country life for one’s old age and for one’s children! Never thus, with nothing but the bare ground and one’s bare hands to fight the battle! Never, without the best spoils of culture woven in! The beauties and commodities gained by the centuries are sacred. They are our heritage and birthright. No modern person ought to be willing to live a day in such a state of rudimentariness and denudation.

Then I said to the mountaineer who was driving me, ‘What sort of people are they who have to make these new clearings?’ ‘All of us,’ he replied. ‘Why, we ain’t happy here, unless we are getting one of these coves under cultivation.’ I instantly felt that I had been losing the whole inward significance of the situation. Because to me the clearings spoke of naught but denudation, I thought that to those whose sturdy arms and obedient axes had made them they could tell no other story. But, when they looked on the hideous stumps, what they thought of was personal victory. The chips, the girdled trees, and the vile split rails spoke of honest sweat, persistent toil and final reward. The cabin was a warrant of safety for self and wife and babes. In short, the clearing, which to me was a mere ugly picture on the retina, was to them a symbol redolent with moral memories and sang a very pæan of duty, struggle, and success.

I had been as blind to the peculiar ideality of their conditions as they certainly would also have been to the ideality of mine, had they had a peep at my strange indoor academic ways of life at Cambridge.

Wherever a process of life communicates an eagerness to him who lives it, there the life becomes genuinely significant. Sometimes the eagerness is more knit up with the motor activities, sometimes with the perceptions, sometimes with the imagination, sometimes with reflective thought. But, wherever it is found, there is the zest, the tingle, the excitement of reality; and there is ‘importance’ in the only real and positive sense in which importance ever anywhere can be.

Robert Louis Stevenson has illustrated this by a case, drawn from the sphere of the imagination, in an essay which I really think deserves to become immortal, both for the truth of its matter and the excellence of its form.

‘Toward the end of September,’ Stevenson writes, ‘when school-time was drawing near, and the nights were already black, we would begin to sally from our respective villas, each equipped with a tin bull’s-eye lantern. The thing was so well known that it had worn a rut in the commerce of Great Britain; and the grocers, about the due time, began to garnish their windows with our particular brand of luminary. We wore them buckled to the waist upon a cricket belt, and over them, such was the rigor of the game, a buttoned top-coat. They smelled noisomely of blistered tin. They never burned aright, though they would always burn our fingers. Their use was naught, the pleasure of them merely fanciful, and yet a boy with a bull’s-eye under his top-coat asked for nothing more. The fishermen used lanterns about their boats, and it was from them, I suppose, that we had got the hint; but theirs were not bull’s-eyes, nor did we ever play at being fishermen. The police carried them at their belts, and we had plainly copied them in that; yet we did not pretend to be policemen. Burglars, indeed, we may have had some haunting thought of; and we had certainly an eye to past ages when lanterns were more common, and to certain story-books in which we had found them to figure very largely. But take it for all in all, the pleasure of the thing was substantive; and to be a boy with a bull’s-eye under his top-coat was good enough for us.

‘When two of these asses met, there would be an anxious “Have you got your lantern?” and a gratified “Yes!” That was the shibboleth, and very needful, too; for, as it was the rule to keep our glory contained, none could recognize a lantern-bearer unless (like the polecat) by the smell. Four or five would sometimes climb into the belly of a ten-man lugger, with nothing but the thwarts above them, - for the cabin was usually locked, - or chose out some hollow of the links where the wind might whistle overhead. Then the coats would be unbuttoned, and the bull’s-eyes discovered; and in the chequering glimmer, under the huge, windy hall of the night, and cheered by a rich steam of toasting tinware, these fortunate young gentlemen would crouch together in the cold sand of the links, or on the scaly bilges of the fishing-boat, and delight them with inappropriate talk. Woe is me that I cannot give some specimens! … But the talk was but a condiment, and those gatherings themselves only accidents in the career of the lanternbearer. The essence of this bliss was to walk by yourself in the black night, the slide shut, the top-coat buttoned, not a ray escaping, whether to conduct your footsteps or to make your glory public, - a mere pillar of darkness in the dark; and all the while, deep down in the privacy of your fool’s heart, to know you had a bull’s-eye at your belt, and to exult and sing over the knowledge.

‘It is said that a poet had died young in the breast of the most stolid. It may be contended rather that a (somewhat minor) bard in almost every case survives, and is the spice of life to his possessor. Justice is not done to the versatility and the unplumbed childishness of man’s imagination. His life from without may seem but a rude mound of mud: there will be some golden chamber at the heart of it, in which he dwells delighted; and for as dark as his pathway seems to the observer, he will have some kind of bull’s-eye at his belt.

… ‘There is one fable that touches very near the quick of life, - the fable of the monk who passed into the woods, heard a bird break into song, hearkened for a trill or two, and found himself at his return a stranger at his convent gates; for he had been absent fifty years, and of all his comrades there survived but one to recognize him. It is not only in the woods that this enchanter carols, though perhaps he is native there. He sings in the most doleful places. The miser hears him and chuckles, and his days are moments. With no more apparatus than an evil-smelling lantern, I have evoked him on the naked links. All life that is not merely mechanical is spun out of two strands, - seeking for that bird and hearing him. And it is just this that makes life so hard to value, and the delight of each so incommunicable. And it is just a knowledge of this, and a remembrance of those fortunate hours in which the bird has sung to us, that fills us with such wonder when we turn to the pages of the realist. There, to be sure, we find a picture of life in so far as it consists of mud and of old iron, cheap desires and cheap fears, that which we are ashamed to remember and that which we are careless whether we forget; but of the note of that time-devouring nightingale we hear no news.

… ‘Say that we came [in such a realistic romance] on some such business as that of my lantern-bearers on the links, and described the boys as very cold, spat upon by flurries of rain, and drearily surrounded, all of which they were; and their talk as silly and indecent, which it certainly was. To the eye of the observer they are wet and cold and drearily surrounded; but ask themselves, and they are in the heaven of a recondite pleasure, the ground of which is an ill-smelling lantern.

‘For, to repeat, the ground of a man’s joy is often hard to hit. It may hinge at times upon a mere accessory, like the lantern; it may reside in the mysterious inwards of psychology … It has so little bond with externals … that it may even touch them not, and the man’s true life, for which he consents to live, lie together in the field of fancy … In such a case the poetry runs underground. The observer (poor soul, with his documents!) is all abroad. For to look at the man is but to court deception. We shall see the trunk from which he draws his nourishment; but he himself is above and abroad in the green dome of foliage, hummed through by winds and nested in by nightingales. And the true realism were that of the poets, to climb after him like a squirrel, and catch some glimpse of the heaven in which he lives. And the true realism, always and everywhere, is that of the poets: to find out where joy resides, and give it a voice far beyond singing.

‘For to miss the joy is to miss all. In the joy of the actors lies the sense of any action. That is the explanation, that the excuse. To one who has not the secret of the lanterns the scene upon the links is meaningless. And hence the haunting and truly spectral unreality of realistic books … In each we miss the personal poetry, the enchanted atmosphere, that rainbow work of fancy that clothes what is naked and seems to ennoble what is base; in each, life falls dead like dough, instead of soaring away like a balloon into the colors of the sunset; each is true, each inconceivable; for no man lives in the external truth among salts and acids, but in the warm, phantasmagoric chamber of his brain, with the painted windows and the storied wall.’

These paragraphs are the best thing I know in all Stevenson. ‘To miss the joy is to miss all.’ Indeed, it is. Yet we are but finite, and each one of us has some single specialized vocation of his own. And it seems as if energy in the service of its particular duties might be got only by hardening the heart toward everything unlike them. Our deadness toward all but one particular kind of joy would thus be the price we inevitably have to pay for being practical creatures. Only in some pitiful dreamer, some philosopher, poet, or romancer, or when the common practical man becomes a lover, does the hard externality give way, and a gleam of insight into the ejective world, as Clifford called it, the vast world of inner life beyond us, so different from that of outer seeming, illuminate our mind. Then the whole scheme of our customary values gets confounded, then our self is riven and its narrow interest fly to pieces, then a new centre and a new perspective must be found.

The change is well described by my colleague, Josiah Royce: -

‘What, then, is our neighbor? Thou hast regarded his thought, his feeling, as somehow different from thine. Thou hast said, “A pain in him is not like a pain in me, but something far easier to bear.” He seems to thee a little less living than thou; his life is dim, it is cold, it is a pale fire beside thy own burning desires … So, dimly and by instinct hast thou lived with thy neighbor, and hast known him not, being blind. Thou hast made [of him] a thing, no Self at all. Have done with this illusion, and simply try to learn the truth. Pain is pain, joy is joy, everywhere, even as in thee. In all the songs of the forest birds; in all the cries of the wounded and dying, struggling in the captor’s power; in the boundless sea where the myriads of water-creatures strive and die; amid all the countless hordes of savage men; in all sickness and sorrow; in all exultation and hope, everywhere, from the lowest to the noblest, the same conscious, burning, wilful life is found, endlessly manifold as the forms of the living creatures, unquenchable as the fires of the sun, real as these impulses that even now throb in thine own little selfish heart. Lift up thy eyes, behold that life, and then turn away, and forget it as thou canst; but, if thou hast known that, thou hast begun to know thy duty.’

*

This higher vision of an inner significance in what, until then, we had realized only in the dead external way, often comes over a person suddenly; and, when it does so, it makes an epoch in his history. As Emerson says, there is a depth in those moments that constrains us to ascribe more reality to them than to all other experiences. The passion of love will shake one like an explosion, or some act will awaken a remorseful compunction that hangs like a cloud over all one’s later day.

This mystic sense of hidden meaning starts upon us often from non-human natural things. I take this passage from ‘Obermann,’ a French novel that had some vogue in its day: ‘Paris, March 7. - It was dark and rather cold. I was gloomy, and walked because I had nothing to do. I passed by some flowers placed breast-high upon a wall. A jonquil in bloom was there. It is the strongest expression of desire: it was the first perfume of the year. I felt all the happiness destined for man. This unutterable harmony of souls, the phantom of the ideal world, arose in me complete. I never felt anything so great or so instantaneous. I know not what shape, what analogy, what secret of relation it was that made me see in this flower a limitless beauty … I shall never enclose in a conception this power, this immensity that nothing will express; this form that nothing will contain; this ideal of a better world which one feels, but which it would seem that nature has not made.’

Wordsworth and Shelley are similarly full of this sense of a limitless significance in natural things. In Wordsworth it was a somewhat austere and moral significance, - a ‘lonely cheer.’

To every natural form, rock, fruit, or flower,

Even the loose stones that cover the highway,

I gave a moral life: I saw them feel

Or linked them to some feeling: the great mass

Lay bedded in some quickening soul, and all

That I beheld respired with inward meaning.

‘Authentic tidings of invisible things!’ Just what this hidden presence in nature was, which Wordsworth so rapturously felt, and in the light of which he lived, tramping the hills for days together, the poet never could explain logically or in articulate conceptions. Yet to the reader who may himself have had gleaming moments of a similar sort the verses in which Wordsworth simply proclaims the fact of them come with a heart satisfying authority: -

Magnificent

The morning rose, in memorable pomp,

Glorious as ere I had beheld. In front

The sea lay laughing at a distance; near

The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds,

Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light;

And in the meadows and the lower grounds Was all the sweetness of a common dawn, -

Dews, vapors, and the melody of birds,

And laborers going forth to till the fields.

Ah! need I say, dear Friend, that to the brim

My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows

Were then made for me; bond unknown to me

Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly,

A dedicated Spirit. On I walked,

In thankful blessedness, which yet survives.

As Wordsworth walked, filled with his strange inner joy, responsive thus to the secret life of nature round about him, his rural neighbors, tightly and narrowly intent upon their own affairs, their crops and lambs and fences, must have thought him a very insignificant and foolish personage. It surely never occurred to any one of them to wonder what was going on inside of him or what it might be worth. And yet that inner life of his carried the burden of a significance that has fed the souls of others, and fills them to this day with inner joy.

Richard Jefferies has written a remarkable autobiographic document entitled The Story of my Heart. It tells, in many pages, of the rapture with which in youth the sense of the life of nature filled him. On a certain hill-top he says: -

‘I was utterly alone with the sun and the earth. Lying down on the grass, I spoke in my soul to the earth, the sun, the air, and the distant sea, far beyond sight … With all the intensity of feeling which exalted me, all the intense communion I held with the earth, the sun and sky, the stars hidden by the light, with the ocean, - in no manner can the thrilling depth of these feelings be written, - with these I prayed as if they were the keys of an instrument … The great sun, burning with light, the strong earth, - dear earth, - the warm sky, the pure air, the thought of ocean, the inexpressible beauty of all filled me with a rapture, an ecstasy, an inflatus. With this inflatus, too, I prayed … The prayer, this soul-emotion, was in itself, not for an object: it was a passion. I hid my face in the grass. I was wholly prostrated, I lost myself in the wrestle, I was rapt and carried away … Had any shepherd accidentally seen me lying on the turf, he would only have thought I was resting a few minutes. I made no outward show. Who could have imagined the whirlwind of passion that was going on in me as I reclined there!’

Surely, a worthless hour of life, when measured by the usual standards of commercial value. Yet in what other kind of value can the preciousness of any hour, made precious by any standard, consist, if it consist not in feelings of excited significance like these, engendered in some one, by what the hour contains?

Yet so blind and dead does the clamor of our own practical interests make us to all other things, that it seems almost as if it were necessary to become worthless as a practical being, if one is to hope to attain to any breadth of insight into the impersonal world of worths as such, to have any perception of life’s meaning on a large objective scale. Only your mystic, your dreamer, or your insolvent tramp or loafer, can afford so sympathetic an occupation, an occupation which will change the usual standards of human value in the twinkling of an eye, giving to foolishness a place ahead of power, and laying low in a minute the distinctions which it takes a hard-working conventional man a lifetime to build up. You may be a prophet, at this rate; but you cannot be a worldly success.

Walt Whitman, for instance, is accounted by many of us a contemporary prophet. He abolishes the usual human distinctions, brings all conventionalisms into solution, and loves and celebrates hardly any human attributes save those elementary ones common to all members of the race. For this he becomes a sort of ideal tramp, a rider on omnibus-tops and ferry-boats, and, considered either practically or academically, a worthless, unproductive being. His verses are but ejaculations - things mostly without subject or verb, a succession of interjections on an immense scale. He felt the human crowd as rapturously as Wordsworth felt the mountains, felt it as an overpoweringly significant presence, simply to absorb one’s mind in which should be business sufficient and worthy to fill the days of a serious man. As he crosses Brooklyn ferry, this is what he feels: -

Flood-tide below me! I watch you, face to face;

Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face to face.

Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious you are to me!

On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;

And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.

Others will enter the gates of the ferry, and cross from shore to shore;

Others will watch the run of the flood-tide;

Others will see the shipping of Manhattan north and west, and the heights of Brooklyn to the south and east;

Others will see the islands large and small;

Fifty years hence, others will see them as they cross, the sun half an hour high.

A hundred years hence, or ever so many hundred years hence, others will see them,

Will enjoy the sunset, the pouring in of the flood-tide, the falling back to the sea of the ebb-tide.

It avails not, neither time or place - distance avails not.

Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt;

Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd;

Just as you are refresh’d by the gladness of the river and the bright flow, I was refresh’d;

Just as you stand and lean on the rail, yet hurry with the swift current, I stood, yet was hurried;

Just as you look on the numberless masts of ships, and the thick-stemmed pipes of steamboats, I looked.

I too many and many a time cross’d the river, the sun half an hour high;

I watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls - I saw them high in the air, with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies,

I saw how the glistening yellow lit up parts of their bodies, and left the rest in strong shadow,

I saw the slow-wheeling circles, and the gradual edging toward the south.

Saw the white seals of schooners and sloops, saw the ships at anchor,

The sailors at work in the rigging, or out astride the spars;

The scallop-edged waves in the twilight, the ladled cups, the frolicsome crests and glistening;

The stretch afar growing dimmer and dimmer, the gray walls of the granite store-houses by the docks;

On the neighboring shores, the fires from the foundry chimneys burning high … into the night,

Casting their flicker of black … into the clefts of streets.

These, and all else, were to me the same as they are to you.

And so on, through the rest of a divinely beautiful poem. And, if you wish to see what this hoary loafer considered the most worthy way of profiting by life’s heaven-sent opportunities, read the delicious volume of his letters to a young car-conductor who had become his friend: -

‘NEW YORK, Oct. 9, 1868.

‘Dear Pete, - It is splendid here this forenoon - bright and cool. I was out early taking a short walk by the river only two squares from where I live … Shall I tell you about [my life] just to fill up? I generally spend the forenoon in my room writing, etc., then take a bath fix up and go out about twelve and loafe somewhere or call on someone down town or on business, or perhaps if it is very pleasant and I feel like it ride a trip with some driver friend on Broadway from 23rd Street to Bowling Green, three miles each way. (Every day I find I have plenty to do, every hour is occupied with something.) You know it is a never ending amusement and study and recreation for me to ride a couple of hours on a pleasant afternoon on a Broadway stage in this way. You see everything as you pass, a sort of living, endless panorama - shops and splendid buildings and great windows: on the broad sidewalks crowds of women richly dressed continually passing, altogether different, superior in style and looks from any to be seen anywhere else - in fact a perfect stream of people - men too dressed in high style, and plenty of foreigners - and then in the streets the thick crowd of carriages, stages, carts, hotel and private coaches, and in fact all sorts of vehicles and many first class teams, mile after mile, and the splendor of such a great street and so many tall, ornamental, noble buildings many of them of white marble, and the gayety and motion on every side: you will not wonder how much attraction all this is on a fine day, to a great loafer like me, who enjoys so much seeing the busy world move by him, and exhibiting itself for his amusement, while he takes it easy and just looks on and observes.’

Truly a futile way of passing the time, some of you may say, and not altogether creditable to a grown-up man. And yet, from the deepest point of view, who knows the more of truth, and who knows the less, - Whitman on his omnibus-top, full of the inner joy with which the spectacle inspires him, or you, full of the disdain which the futility of his occupation excites?

When your ordinary Brooklynite or New Yorker, leading a life replete with too much luxury, or tired and careworn about his personal affairs, crosses the ferry or goes up Broadway, his fancy does not thus ‘soar away into the colors of the sunset’ as did Whitman’s, nor does he inwardly realize at all the indisputable fact that this world never did anywhere or at any time contain more of essential divinity, or of eternal meaning, than is embodied in the fields of vision over which his eyes so carelessly pass. There is life; and there, a step away, is death. There is the only kind of beauty there ever was. There is the old human struggle and its fruits together. There is the text and the sermon, the real and the ideal in one. But to the jaded and unquickened eye it is all dead and common, pure vulgarism, flatness, and disgust. ‘Hech! it is a sad sight!’ says Carlyle, walking at night with some one who appeals to him to note the splender of the stars. And that very repetition of the scene to new generations of men in secula seculorum [‘world without end’], that eternal recurrence of the common order, which so fills a Whitman with mystic satisfaction, is to a Schopenhauer, with the emotional anaesthesia, the feeling of ‘awful inner emptiness’ from out of which he views it all, the chief ingredient of the tedium it instils. What is life on the largest scale, he asks, but the same recurrent inanities, the same dog barking, the same fly buzzing, forevermore? Yet of the kind of fibre of which such inanities consist is the material woven of all the excitements, joys, and meanings that ever were, or ever shall be, in this world.

To be rapt with satisfied attention, like Whitman, to the mere spectacle of the world’s presence, is one way, and the most fundamental way, of confessing one’s sense of its unfathomable significance and importance. But how can one attain to the feeling of the vital significance of an experience, if one have it not to begin with? There is no receipt which one can follow. Being a secret and a mystery, it often comes in mysteriously unexpected ways. It blossoms sometimes from out of the very grave wherein we imagined that our happiness was buried. Benvenuto Cellini, after a life all in the outer sunshine, made of adventures and artistic excitements, suddenly finds himself cast into a dungeon in the Castle of San Angelo. The place is horrible. Rats and wet and mould possess it. His leg is broken and his teeth fall out, apparently with scurvy. But his thoughts turn to God as they have never turned before. He gets a Bible, which he reads during the one hour in the twenty-four in which a wandering ray of daylight penetrates his cavern. He has religious visions. He sings psalms to himself, and composes hymns. And thinking, on the last day of July, of the festivities customary on the morrow in Rome, he says to himself: ‘All these past years I celebrated this holiday with the vanities of the world: from this year henceforward I will do it with the divinity of God. And then I said to myself, “Oh, how much more happy I am for this present life of mine than for all those things remembered!”’

But the great understander of these mysterious ebbs and flows is Tolstoï. They throb all through his novels. In his ‘War and Peace,’ the hero, Peter, is supposed to be the richest man in the Russian empire. During the French invasion he is taken prisoner, and dragged through much of the retreat. Cold, vermin, hunger, and every form of misery assail him, the result being a revelation to him of the real scale of life’s values. ‘Here only, and for the first time, he appreciated, because he was deprived of it, the happiness of eating when he was hungry, of drinking when he was thirsty, of sleeping when he was sleepy, and of talking when he felt the desire to exchange some words … Later in life he always recurred with joy to this month of captivity, and never failed to speak with enthusiasm of the powerful and ineffaceable sensations, and especially of the moral calm which he had experienced at this epoch. When at daybreak, on the morrow of his imprisonment, he saw [I abridge here Tolstoï’s description] the mountains with their wooded slopes disappearing in the grayish mist; when he felt the cool breeze caress him; when he saw the light drive away the vapors, and the sun rise majestically behind the clouds and cupolas, and the crosses, the dew, the distance, the river, sparkle in the splendid, cheerful rays, - his heart overflowed with emotion. This emotion kept continually with him, and increased a hundred-fold as the difficulties of his situation grew graver … He learnt that man is meant for happiness, and that this happiness is in him, in the satisfaction of the daily needs of existence, and that unhappiness is the fatal result, not of our need, but of our abundance … When calm reigned in the camp, and the embers paled, and little by little went out, the full moon had reached the zenith. The woods and the fields roundabout lay clearly visible; and, beyond the inundation of light which filled them, the view plunged into the limitless horizon. Then Peter cast his eyes upon the firmament, filled at that hour with myriads of stars. “All that is mine,” he thought. “All that is in me, is me! And that is what they think they have taken prisoner! That is what they have shut up in a cabin!” So he smiled, and turned in to sleep among his comrades.’

The occasion and the experience, then, are nothing. It all depends on the capacity of the soul to be grasped, to have its life-currents absorbed by what is given. ‘Crossing a bare common,’ says Emerson, ‘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. I am glad to the brink of fear.’

Life is always worth living, if one have such responsive sensibilities. But we of the highly educated classes (so called) have most of us got far, far away from Nature. We are trained to seek the choice, the rare, the exquisite exclusively, and to overlook the common. We are stuffed with abstract conceptions, and glib with verbalities and verbosities; and in the culture of these higher functions the peculiar sources of joy connected with our simpler functions often dry up, and we grow stone-blind and insensible to life’s more elementary and general goods and joys.

The remedy under such conditions is to descend to a more profound and primitive level. To be imprisoned or shipwrecked or forced into the army would permanently show the good of life to many an over-educated pessimist. Living in the open air and on the ground, the lopsided beam of the balance slowly rises to the level line; and the over-sensibilities and insensibilities even themselves out. The good of all the artificial schemes and fevers fades and pales; and that of seeing, smelling, tasting, sleeping, and daring and doing with one’s body, grows and grows. The savages and, children of nature, to whom we deem ourselves so much superior, certainly are alive where we are often dead, along these lines; and, could they write as glibly as we do, they would read us impressive lectures on our impatience for improvement and on our blindness to the fundamental static goods of life. ‘Ah! my brother,’ said a chieftain to his white guest, ‘thou wilt never know the happiness of both thinking of nothing and doing nothing. This, next to sleep, is the most enchanting of all things. Thus we were before our birth, and thus we shall be after death. Thy people, … when they have finished reaping one field, they begin to plough another; and, if the day were not enough, I have seen them plough by moonlight. What is their life to ours, - the life that is as naught to them? Blind that they are, they lose it all! But we live in the present.’

The intense interest that life can assume when brought down to the non-thinking level, the level of pure sensorial perception, has been beautifully described by a man who can write, - Mr W. H. Hudson, in his volume, ‘Idle Days in Patagonia.’

‘I spent the greater part of one winter,’ says this admirable author, ‘at a point on the Rio Negro, seventy or eighty miles from the sea.

… ‘It was my custom to go out every morning on horseback with my gun, and, followed by one dog, to ride away from the valley; and no sooner would I climb the terrace, and plunge into the gray, universal thicket, than I would find myself as completely alone as if five hundred instead of only five miles separated me from the valley and river. So wild and solitary and remote seemed that gray waste, stretching away into infinitude, a waste untrodden by man, and where the wild animals are so few that they have made no discoverable path in the wilderness of thorns … Not once nor twice nor thrice, but day after day I returned to this solitude, going to it in the morning as if to attend a festival, and leaving it only when hunger and thirst and the westering sun compelled me. And yet I had no object in going, - no motive which could be put into words; for, although I carried a gun, there was nothing to shoot, - the shooting was all left behind in the valley … Sometimes I would pass a whole day without seeing one mammal, and perhaps not more than a dozen birds of any size. The weather at that time was cheerless, generally with a gray film of cloud spread over the sky, and a bleak wind, often cold enough to make my bridle-hand quite numb … At a slow pace, which would have seemed intolerable under other circumstances, I would ride about for hours together at a stretch. On arriving at a hill, I would slowly ride to its summit, and stand there to survey the prospect. On every side it stretched away in great undulations, wild and irregular. How gray it all was! Hardly less so near at hand than on the haze-wrapped horizon where the hills were dim and the outline obscured by distance. Descending from my outlook, I would take up my aimless wanderings again, and visit other elevations to gaze on the same landscape from another point; and so on for hours. And at noon I would dismount, and sit or lie on my folded poncho for an hour or longer. One day in these rambles I discovered a small grove composed of twenty or thirty trees, growing at a convenient distance apart, that had evidently been resorted to by a herd of deer or other wild animals. This grove was on a hill differing in shape from other hills in its neighborhood; and, after a time, I made a point of finding and using it as a resting-place every day at noon. I did not ask myself why I made choice of that one spot, sometimes going out of my way to sit there, instead of sitting down under any one of the millions of trees and bushes on any other hillside. I thought nothing about it, but acted unconsciously. Only afterward it seemed to me that, after having rested there once, each time I wished to rest again, the wish came associated with the image of that particular clump of trees, with polished stems and clean bed of sand beneath; and in a short time I formed a habit of returning, animal like, to repose at that same spot.

‘It was, perhaps, a mistake to say that I would sit down and rest, since I was never tired; and yet, without being tired, that noon-day pause, during which I sat for an hour without moving, was strangely grateful. All day there would be no sound, not even the rustling of a leaf. One day, while listening to the silence, it occurred to my mind to wonder what the effect would be if I were to shout aloud. This seemed at the time a horrible suggestion, which almost made me shudder. But during those solitary days it was a rare thing for any thought to cross my mind. In the state of mind I was in, thought had become impossible. My state was one of suspense and watchfulness; yet I had no expectation of meeting an adventure, and felt as free from apprehension as I feel now while sitting in a room in London. The state seemed familiar rather than strange, and accompanied by a strong feeling of elation; and I did not know that something had come between me and my intellect until I returned to my former self, - to thinking, and the old insipid existence [again].

‘I had undoubtedly gone back; and that state of intense watchfullness or alertness, rather, with suspension of the higher intellectual faculties, represented the mental state of the pure savage. He thinks little, reasons little, having a surer guide in his [mere sensory perceptions]. He is in perfect harmony with nature, and is nearly on a level, mentally, with the wild animals he preys on, and which in their turn sometimes prey on him.’

For the spectator, such hours as Mr Hudson writes of form a mere tale of emptiness, in which nothing happens, nothing is gained, and there is nothing to describe. They are meaningless and vacant tracts of time. To him who feels their inner secret, they tingle with an importance that unutterably vouches for itself. I am sorry for the boy or girl, or man or woman, who has never been touched by the spell of this mysterious sensorial life, with its irrationality, if so you like to call it, but its vigilance and its supreme felicity. The holidays of life are its most vitally significant portions, because they are, or at least should be, covered with just this kind of magically irresponsible spell.

And now what is the result of all these considerations and quotations? It is negative in one sense, but positive in another. It absolutely forbids us to be forward in pronouncing on the meaninglessness of forms of existence other than our own; and it commands us to tolerate, respect, and indulge those whom we see harmlessly interested and happy in their own ways, however unintelligible these may be to us. Hands off; neither the whole of truth nor the whole of good is revealed to any single observer, although each observer gains a partial superiority of insight from the peculiar position in which he stands. Even prisons and sick-rooms have their special revelations. It is enough to ask of each of us that he should be faithful to his own opportunities and make the most of his own blessings, without presuming to regulate the rest of the vast field.

The Tigers in India

There are two ways of knowing things, knowing them immediately or intuitively, and knowing them conceptually or representatively. Altho such things as the white paper before our eyes can be known intuitively, most of the things we know, the tigers now in India, for example, or the scholastic system of philosophy, are known only representatively or symbolically.

Suppose, to fix our ideas, that we take first a case of conceptual knowledge; and let it be our knowledge of the tigers in India, as we sit here. Exactly what do we mean by saying that we here know the tigers? What is the precise fact that the cognition so confidently claimed is known-as, to use Shadworth Hodgson’s inelegant but valuable form of words?

Most men would answer that what we mean by knowing the tigers is having them, however absent in body, become in some way present to our thought; or that our knowledge of them is known as presence of our thought to them. A great mystery is usually made of this peculiar presence in absence; and the scholastic philosophy, which is only common sense grown pedantic, would explain it as a peculiar kind of existence, called intentional inexistence, of the tigers in our mind. At the very least, people would say that what we mean by knowing the tigers is mentally pointing towards them as we sit here.

But now what do we mean by pointing, in such a case as this? What is the pointing known-as, here?

To this question I shall have to give a very prosaic answer - one that traverses the prepossessions not only of common sense and scholasticism, but also those of nearly all the epistemological writers whom I have ever read. The answer, made brief, is this: The pointing of our thought to the tigers is known simply and solely as a procession of mental associates and motor consequences that follow on the thought, and that would lead harmoniously, if followed out, into some ideal or real context, or even into the immediate presence, of the tigers. It is known as our rejection of a jaguar, if that beast were shown us as a tiger; as our assent to a genuine tiger if so shown. It is known as our ability to utter all sorts of propositions which don’t contradict other propositions that are true of the real tigers. It is even known, if we take the tigers very seriously, as actions of ours which may terminate in directly intuited tigers, as they would if we took a voyage to India for the purpose of tigerhunting and brought back a lot of skins of the striped rascals which we had laid low. In all this there is no self-transcendency in our mental images taken by themselves. They are one phenomenal fact; the tigers are another; and their pointing to the tigers is a perfectly commonplace intra-experiential relation, if you once grant a connecting world to be there. In short, the ideas and the tigers are in themselves as loose and separate, to use Hume’s language, as any two things can be; and pointing means here an operation as external and adventitious as any that nature yields.［1］

I hope you may agree with me now that in representative knowledge there is no special inner mystery, but only an outer chain of physical or mental intermediaries connecting thought and thing. To know an object is here to lead to it through a context which the world supplies. All this was most instructively set forth by our colleague D. S. Miller at our meeting in New York last Christmas, and for re-confirming my sometime wavering opinion, I owe him this acknowledgment.

Let us next pass on to the case of immediate or intuitive acquaintance with an object, and let the object be the white paper before our eyes. The thought-stuff and the thing-stuff are here indistinguishably the same in nature, as we saw a moment since, and there is no context of intermediaries or associates to stand between and separate the thought and thing. There is no ‘presence in absence’ here, and no ‘pointing,’ but rather an allround embracing of the paper by the thought; and it is clear that the knowing cannot now be explained exactly as it was when the tigers were its object. Dotted all through our experience are states of immediate acquaintance just like this. Somewhere our belief always does rest onultimate data like the whiteness, smoothness, or squareness of this paper. Whether such qualities be truly ultimate aspects of being, or only provisional suppositions of ours, held-to till we get better informed, is quite immaterial for our present inquiry. So long as it is believed in, we see our object face to face. What now do we mean by ‘knowing’ such a sort of object as this? For this is also the way in which we should know the tiger if our conceptual idea of him were to terminate by having led us to his lair?

This address must not become too long, so I must give my answer in the fewest words. And let me first say this: So far as the white paper or other ultimate datum of our experience is considered to enter also into some one else’s experience, and we, in knowing it, are held to know it there as well as here; so far, again, as it is considered to be a mere mask for hidden molecules that other now impossible experiences of our own might some day lay bare to view; so far it is a case of tigers in India again - the things known being absent experiences, the knowing can only consist in passing smoothly towards them through the intermediary context that the world supplies. But if our own private vision of the paper be considered in abstraction from every other event, as if it constituted by itself the universe (and it might perfectly well do so, for aught we can understand to the contrary), then the paper seen and the seeing of it are only two names for one indivisible fact which, properly named, is the datum, the phenomenon, or the experience. The paper is in the mind and the mind is around the paper, because paper and mind are only two names that are given later to the one experience, when, taken in a larger world of which it forms a part, its connections are traced in different directions.［2］ To know immediately, then, or intuitively, is for mental content and object to be identical. This is a very different definition from that which we gave of representative knowledge; but neither definition involves those mysterious notions of self-transcendency and presence in absence which are such essential parts of the ideas of knowledge, both of philosophers and of common men.

［1］ A stone in one field may ‘fit,’ we say, a hole in another field. But the relation of ‘fitting,’ so long as no one carries the stone to the hole and drops it in, is only one name for the fact that such an act may happen. Similarly with the knowing of the tigers here and now. It is only an anticipatory name for a further associative and terminative process that may occur.

［2］ What is meant by this is that ‘the experience’ can be referred to either of two great associative systems, that of the experiencer’s mental history, or that of the experienced facts of the world. Of both of these systems it forms part, and may be regarded, indeed, as one of their points of intersection. One might let a vertical line stand for the mental history; but the same object, O, appears also in the mental

history of different persons, represented by the other vertical lines. It thus ceases to be the private property of one experience, and becomes, so to speak, a shared or public thing. We can track its outer history in this way, and represent it by the horizontal line. [It is also known representatively at other points of the vertical lines, or intuitively there again, so that the line of its outer history would have to be looped and wandering, but I make it straight for simplicity’s sake.] In any case, however, it is the same stuff that figures in all the sets of lines.

Is Life Worth Living?

When Mr Mallock’s book with this title appeared some fifteen years ago, the jocose answer that ‘it depends on the liver’ had great currency in the newspapers. The answer which I propose to give tonight cannot be jocose. In the words of one of Shakespeare’s prologues, -

I come no more to make you laugh; things now,

That bear a weighty and a serious brow,

Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, -

must be my theme. In the deepest heart of all of us there is a corner in which the ultimate mystery of things works sadly; and I know not what such an association as yours [The Harvard Young Man’s Christian Association] intends, nor what you ask of those whom you invite to address you, unless it be to lead you from the surfaceglamour of existence, and for an hour at least to make you heedless to the buzzing and jigging and vibration of small interests and excitements that form the tissue of our ordinary consciousness. Without further explanation or apology, then, I ask you to join me in turning an attention, commonly too unwilling, to the profounder bass-note of life. Let us search the lonely depths for an hour together, and see what answers in the last folds and recesses of things our question may find.

I.

With many men the question of life’s worth is answered by a temperamental optimism which makes them incapable of believing that anything seriously evil can exist. Our dear old Walt Whitman’s works are the standing text-book of this kind of optimism. The mere joy of living is so immense in Walt Whitman’s veins that it abolishes the possibility of any other kind of feeling: -

To breathe the air, how delicious!

To speak, to walk, to seize something by the hand! …

To be this incredible God I am! …

0 amazement of things, even the least particle!

0 spirituality of things!

I too carol the Sun, usher’d or at noon, or as now, setting;

I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth and of all the growths of the earth …

I sing to the last the equalities, modern or old,

I sing the endless finales of things,

I say Nature continues - glory continues.

I praise with electric voice,

For I do not see one imperfection in the universe,

And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last.

So Rousseau, writing of the nine years he spent at Annecy, with nothing but his happiness to tell: -

How tell what was neither said nor done nor even thought, but tasted only and felt, with no object of my felicity but the emotion of felicity itself! I rose with the sun, and I was happy; I went to walk, and I was happy; I saw ‘Maman,’ and I was happy; I left her, and I was happy. I rambled through the woods and over the vine-slopes, I wandered in the valleys, I read, I lounged, I worked in the garden, I gathered the fruits, I helped at the indoor work, and happiness followed me everywhere. It was in no one assignable thing; it was all within myself; it could not leave me for a single instant.

If moods like this could be made permanent, and constitutions like these universal, there would never be any occasion for such discourses as the present one. No philosopher would seek to prove articulately that life is worth living, for the fact that it absolutely is so would vouch for itself, and the problem disappear in the vanishing of the question rather than in the coming of anything like a reply. But we are not magicians to make the optimistic temperament universal; and alongside of the deliverances of temperamental optimism concerning life, those of temperamental pessimism always exist, and oppose to them a standing refutation. In what is called ‘circular insanity,’ phases of melancholy succeed phases of mania with no outward cause that we can discover; and often enough to one and the same well person life will present incarnate radiance today and incarnate dreariness tomorrow, according to the fluctuations of what the older medical books used to call ‘the concoction of the humors.’ In the words of the newspaper joke, ‘it depends on the liver.’ Rousseau’s ill-balanced constitution undergoes a change, and behold him in his latter evil days a prey to melancholy and black delusions of suspicion and fear. Some men seem launched upon the world even from their birth with souls as incapable of happiness as Walt Whitman’s was of gloom, and they have left us their messages in even more lasting verse than his, - the exquisite Leopardi, for example; or our own contemporary, James Thomson, in that pathetic book, The City of Dreadful Night, which I think is less well-known than it should be for its literary beauty, simply because men are afraid to quote its words, - they are so gloomy, and at the same time so sincere. In one place the poet describes a congregation gathered to listen to a preacher in a great unillumined cathedral at night. The sermon is too long to quote, but it ends thus: -

‘O Brothers of sad lives! they are so brief;

A few short years must bring us all relief:

Can we not bear these years of laboring breath?

But if you would not this poor life fulfil,

Lo, you are free to end it when you will,

Without the fear of waking after death.’ -

The organ-like vibrations of his voice

Thrilled through the vaulted aisles and died away;

The yearning of the tones which bade rejoice

Was sad and tender as a requiem lay:

Our shadowy congregation rested still,

As brooding on that ‘End it when you will.’

Our shadowy congregation rested still,

As musing on that message we had heard,

And brooding on that ‘End it when you will,’

Perchance awaiting yet some other word;

When keen as lightning through a muffled sky

Sprang forth a shrill and lamentable cry: -

‘The man speaks sooth, alas! the man speaks sooth;

We have no personal life beyond the grave;

There is no God; Fate knows nor wrath nor ruth:

Can I find here the comfort which I crave?

‘In all eternity I had one chance,

One few years’ term of gracious human life, -

The splendors of the Intellect’s advance,

The sweetness of the home with babes and wife;

‘The social pleasures with their genial wit; The fascination of the worlds of art;

The glories of the worlds of Nature lit

By large imagination’s glowing heart;

‘The rapture of mere being, full of health;

The careless childhood and the ardent youth;

The strenuous manhood winning various wealth,

The reverend age serene with life’s long truth:

‘All the sublime prerogatives of Man;

The storied memories of the times of old,

The patient tracking of the world’s great plan

Through sequences and changes myriadfold.

‘This chance was never offered me before;

For me the infinite past is blank and dumb;

This chance recurreth never, nevermore;

Blank, blank for me the infinite To-come.

‘And this sole chance was frustrate from my birth,

A mockery, a delusion; and my breath

Of noble human life upon this earth

So racks me that I sigh for senseless death.

‘My wine of life is poison mixed with gall,

My noonday passes in a nightmare dream,

I worse than lose the years which are my all:

What can console me for the loss supreme?

‘Speak not of comfort where no comfort is,

Speak not at all: can words make foul things fair?

Our life’s a cheat, our death a black abyss:

Hush, and be mute, envisaging despair.’

This vehement voice came from the northern aisle,

Rapid and shrill to its abrupt harsh close;

And none gave answer for a certain while,

For words must shrink from these most wordless woes;

At last the pulpit speaker simply said,

With humid eyes and thoughtful, drooping head, -

‘My Brother, my poor Brothers, it is thus:

This life holds nothing good for us,

But it ends soon and nevermore can be;

And we knew nothing of it ere our birth,

And shall know nothing when consigned to earth:

I ponder these thoughts, and they comfort me.’

‘It ends soon, and never more can be,’ ‘Lo, you are free to end it when you will,’ - these verses flow truthfully from the melancholy Thomson’s pen, and are in truth a consolation for all to whom, as to him, the world is far more like a steady den of fear than a continual fountain of delight. That life is not worth living the whole army of suicides declare, - an army whose roll-call, like the famous evening gun of the British army, follows the sun round the world and never terminates. We, too, as we sit here in our comfort, must ‘ponder these things’ also, for we are of one substance with these suicides, and their life is the life we share. The plainest intellectual integrity, - nay, more, the simplest manliness and honor, forbid us to forget their case.

‘If suddenly,’ says Mr Ruskin, ‘in the midst of the enjoyments of the palate and lightnesses of heart of a London dinner-party, the walls of the chamber were parted, and through their gap the nearest human beings who were famishing and in misery were borne into the midst of the company feasting and fancy free; if, pale from death, horrible in destitution, broken by despair, body by body they were laid upon the soft carpet, one beside the chair of every guest, - would only the crumbs of the dainties be cast to them; would only a passing glance, a passing thought, be vouchsafed to them? Yet the actual facts, the real relation of each Dives and Lazarus, are not altered by the intervention of the house-wall between the table and the sick-bed, - by the few feet of ground (how few!) which are, indeed, all that separate the merriment from the misery.’

II.

To come immediately to the heart of my theme, then, what I propose is to imagine ourselves reasoning with a fellow-mortal who is on such terms with life that the only comfort left him is to brood on the assurance, ‘You may end it when you will.’ What reasons can we plead that may render such a brother (or sister) willing to take up the burden again? Ordinary Christians, reasoning with would-be suicides, have little to offer them beyond the usual negative, ‘Thou shalt not.’ God alone is master of life and death, they say, and it is a blasphemous act to anticipate his absolving hand. But can we find nothing richer or more positive than this, no reflections to urge whereby the suicide may actually see, and in all sad seriousness feel, that in spite of adverse appearances even for him life is still worth living? There are suicides and suicides (in the United States about three thousand of them every year), and I must frankly confess that with perhaps the majority of these my suggestions are impotent to deal. Where suicide is the result of insanity or sudden frenzied impulse, reflection is impotent to arrest its headway; and cases like these belong to the ultimate mystery of evil, concerning which I can only offer considerations tending toward religious patience at the end of this hour. My task, let me say now, is practically narrow, and my words are to deal only with that metaphysical tedium vitœce [life weariness] which is peculiar to reflecting men. Most of you are devoted, for good or ill, to the reflective life. Many of you are students of philosophy, and have already felt in your own persons the scepticism and unreality that too much grubbing in the abstract roots of things will breed. This is, indeed, one of the regular fruits of the over-studious career. Too much questioning and too little active responsibility lead, almost as often as too much sensualism does, to the edge of the slope, at the bottom of which lie pessimism and the nightmare or suicidal view of life. But to the diseases which reflection breeds, still further reflection can oppose effective remedies; and it is of the melancholy and Weltschmerz [world-weariness] bred of reflection that I now proceed to speak.

Let me say, immediately, that my final appeal is to nothing more recondite than religious faith. So far as my argument is to be destructive, it will consist in nothing more than the sweeping away of certain views that often keep the springs of religious faith compressed; and so far as it is to be constructive, it will consist in holding up to the light of day certain considerations calculated to let loose these springs in a normal, natural way. Pessimism is essentially a religious disease. In the form of it to which you are most liable, it consists in nothing but a religious demand to which there comes no normal religious reply.

Now, there are two stages of recovery from this disease, two different levels upon which one may emerge from the midnight view to the daylight view of things, and I must treat of them in turn. The second stage is the more complete and joyous, and it corresponds to the freer exercise of religious trust and fancy. There are, as is well known, persons who are naturally very free in this regard, others who are not at all so. There are persons, for instance, whom we find indulging to their heart’s content in prospects of immortality; and there are others who experience the greatest difficulty in making such a notion seem real to themselves at all. These latter persons are tied to their senses, restricted to their natural experience; and many of them, moreover, feel a sort of intellectual loyalty to what they call ‘hard facts,’ which is positively shocked by the easy excursions into the unseen that other people make at the bare call of sentiment. Minds of either class may, however, be intensely religious. They may equally desire atonement and reconciliation, and crave acquiescence and communion with the total soul of things. But the craving, when the mind is pent in to the hard facts, especially as science now reveals them, can breed pessimism, quite as easily as it breeds optimism when it inspires religious trust and fancy to wing their way to another and a better world.

That is why I call pessimism an essentially religious disease. The nightmare view of life has plenty of organic sources; but its great reflective source has at all times been the contradiction between the phenomena of nature and the craving of the heart to believe that behind nature there is a spirit whose expression nature is. What philosophers call ‘natural theology’ has been one way of appeasing this craving; that poetry of nature in which our English literature is so rich has been another way. Now, suppose a mind of the latter of our two classes, whose imagination is pent in consequently, and who takes its facts ‘hard’; suppose it, moreover, to feel strongly the craving for communion, and yet to realize how desperately difficult it is to construe the scientific order of nature either theologically or poetically, - and what result can there be but inner discord and contradiction? Now, this inner discord (merely as discord) can be relieved in either of two ways: The longing to read the facts religiously may cease, and leave the bare facts by themselves; or, supplementary facts may be discovered or believed-in, which permit the religious reading to go on. These two ways of relief are the two stages of recovery, the two levels of escape from pessimism, to which I made allusion a moment ago, and which the sequel will, I trust, make more clear.

III.

Starting then with nature, we naturally tend, if we have the religious craving, to say with Marcus Aurelius, ‘O Universe! what thou wishest I wish.’ Our sacred books and traditions tell us of one God who made heaven and earth, and, looking on them, saw that they were good. Yet, on more intimate acquaintance, the visible surfaces of heaven and earth refuse to be brought by us into any intelligible unity at all. Every phenomenon that we would praise there exists cheek by jowl with some contrary phenomenon that cancels all its religious effect upon the mind. Beauty and hideousness, love and cruelty, life and death keep house together in indissoluble partnership; and there gradually steals over us, instead of the old warm notion of a man-loving Deity, that of an awful power that neither hates nor loves, but rolls all things together meaninglessly to a common doom. This is an uncanny, a sinister, a nightmare view of life, and its peculiar unheimlichkeit, or poisonousness, lies expressly in our holding two things together which cannot possibly agree, - in our clinging, on the one hand, to the demand that there shall be a living spirit of the whole; and, on the other, to the belief that the course of nature must be such a spirit’s adequate manifestation and expression. It is in the contradiction between the supposed being of a spirit that encompasses and owns us, and with which we ought to have some communion, and the character of such a spirit as revealed by the visible world’s course, that this particular death-in-life paradox and this melancholybreeding puzzle reside. Carlyle expresses the result in that chapter of his immortal ‘Sartor Resartus’ entitled ‘The Everlasting No.’ ‘I lived,’ writes poor Teufelsdröckh, ‘in a continual, indefinite, pining fear; tremulous, pusillanimous, apprehensive of I knew not what: it seemed as if all things in the heavens above and the earth beneath would hurt me; as if the heavens and the earth were but boundless jaws of a devouring monster, wherein I, palpitating, lay waiting to be devoured.’

This is the first stage of speculative melancholy. No brute can have this sort of melancholy; no man who is irreligious can become its prey. It is the sick shudder of the frustrated religious demand, and not the mere necessary outcome of animal experience. Teufelsdröckh himself could have made shift to face the general chaos and bedevilment of this world’s experiences very well, were he not the victim of an originally unlimited trust and affection towards them. If he might meet them piecemeal, with no suspicion of any whole expressing itself in them, shunning the bitter parts and husbanding the sweet ones, as the occasion served, and as the day was foul or fair, he could have zigzagged toward an easy end, and felt no obligation to make the air vocal with his lamentations. The mood of levity, of ‘I don’t care,’ is for this world’s ills a sovereign and practical anaesthetic. But, no! something deep down in Teufelsdröckh and in the rest of us tells us that there is a Spirit in things to which we owe allegiance, and for whose sake we must keep up the serious mood. And so the inner fever and discord also are kept up; for nature taken on her visible surface reveals no such Spirit, and beyond the facts of nature we are at the present stage of our inquiry not supposing ourselves to look.

Now, I do not hesitate frankly and sincerely to confess to you that this real and genuine discord seems to me to carry with it the inevitable bankruptcy of natural religion naively and simply taken. There were times when Leibnitzes with their heads buried in monstrous wigs could compose Theodicies, and when stall-fed officials of an established church could prove by the valves in the heart and the round ligament of the hip-joint the existence of a ‘Moral and Intelligent Contriver of the World.’ But those times are past; and we of the nineteenth century, with our evolutionary theories and our mechanical philosophies, already know nature too impartially and too well to worship unreservedly any God of whose character she can be an adequate expression. Truly, all we know of good and duty proceeds from nature; but none the less so all we know of evil. Visible nature is all plasticity and indifference, - a moral multiverse, as one might call it, and not a moral universe. To such a harlot we owe no allegiance; with her as a whole we can establish no moral communion; and we are free in our dealings with her several parts to obey or destroy, and to follow no law but that of prudence in coming to terms with such of her particular features as will help us to our private ends. If there be a divine Spirit of the universe, nature, such as we know her, cannot possibly be its ultimate word to man. Either there is no Spirit revealed in nature, or else it is inadequately revealed there; and (as all the higher religions have assumed) what we call visible nature, or this world, must be but a veil and surface-show whose full meaning resides in a supplementary unseen or other world.

I cannot help, therefore, accounting it on the whole a gain (though it may seem for certain poetic constitutions a very sad loss) that the naturalistic superstition, the worship of the God of nature, simply taken as such, should have begun to loosen its hold upon the educated mind. In fact, if I am to express my personal opinion unreservedly, I should say (in spite of its sounding blasphemous at first to certain ears) that the initial step towards getting into healthy ultimate relations with the universe is the act of rebellion against the idea that such a God exists. Such rebellion essentially is that which in the chapter I have quoted from Carlyle goes on to describe: -

‘“Wherefore, like a coward, dost thou forever pip and whimper, and go cowering and trembling? Despicable biped! … Hast thou not a heart; canst thou not suffer whatsoever it be; and, as a Child of Freedom, though outcast, trample Tophet itself under thy feet, while it consumes thee? Let it come, then; I will meet it and defy it!” And as I so thought, there rushed like a stream of fire over my whole soul; and I shook base Fear away from me forever …

‘Thus had the Everlasting No pealed authoritatively through all the recesses of my being, of my Me; and then was it that my whole Me stood up, in native God-created majesty, and recorded its Protest. Such a Protest, the most important transaction in life, may that same indignation and Defiance, in a psychological point of view, be fitly called. The Everlasting No had said: “Behold, thou art fatherless, outcast, and the Universe is mine;” to which my whole Me now made answer: “I am not thine, but Free, and forever hate thee!” From that hour,’ Teufelsdröckh-Carlyle adds, ‘I began to be a man.’

And our poor friend, James Thomson, similarly writes: -

Who is most wretched in this dolorous place?

I think myself; yet I would rather be

My miserable self than He, than He

Who formed such creatures to his own disgrace.

The vilest thing must be less vile than Thou

From whom it had its being, God and Lord!

Creator of all woe and sin! abhorred,

Malignant and implacable! I vow

That not for all Thy power furled and unfurled,

For all the temples to Thy glory built,

Would I assume the ignominious guilt

Of having made such men in such a world.

We are familiar enough in this community with the spectacle of persons exulting in their emancipation from belief in the God of their ancestral Calvinism, - him who made the garden and the serpent, and pre-appointed the eternal fires of hell. Some of them have found humaner gods to worship, others are simply converts from all theology; but, both alike, they assure us that to have got rid of the sophistication of thinking they could feel any reverence or duty toward that impossible idol gave a tremendous happiness to their souls. Now, to make an idol of the spirit of nature, and worship it, also leads to sophistication; and in souls that are religious and would also be scientific the sophistication breeds a philosophical melancholy, from which the first natural step of escape is the denial of the idol; and with the downfall of the idol, whatever lack of positive joyousness may remain, there comes also the downfall of the whimpering and cowering mood. With evil simply taken as such, men can make short work, for their relations with it then are only practical. It looms up no longer so spectrally, it loses all its haunting and perplexing significance, as soon as the mind attacks the instances of it singly, and ceases to worry about their derivation from the ‘one and only Power.’

Here, then, on this stage of mere emancipation from monistic superstition, the would-be suicide may already get encouraging answers to his question about the worth of life. There are in most men instinctive springs of vitality that respond healthily when the burden of metaphysical and infinite responsibility rolls off. The certainty that you now may step out of life whenever you please, and that to do so is not blasphemous or monstrous, is itself an immense relief. The thought of suicide is now no longer a guilty challenge and obsession.

This little life is all we must endure;

The grave’s most holy peace is ever sure, -

says Thomson; adding, ‘I ponder these thoughts, and they comfort me.’ Meanwhile we can always stand it for twenty-four hours longer, if only to see what tomorrow’s newspaper will contain, or what the next postman will bring.

But far deeper forces than this mere vital curiosity are arousable, even in the pessimistically-tending mind; for where the loving and admiring impulses are dead, the hating and fighting impulses will still respond to fit appeals. This evil which we feel so deeply is something that we can also help to overthrow; for its sources, now that no ‘Substance’ or ‘Spirit’ is behind them, are finite, and we can deal with each of them in turn. It is, indeed, a remarkable fact that sufferings and hardships do not, as a rule, abate the love of life; they seem, on the contrary, usually to give it a keener zest. The sovereign source of melancholy is repletion. Need and struggle are what excite and inspire us; our hour of triumph is what brings the void. Not the Jews of the captivity, but those of the days of Solomon’s glory are those from whom the pessimistic utterances in our Bible come. Germany, when she lay trampled beneath the hoofs of Bonaparte’s troopers, produced perhaps the most optimistic and idealistic literature that the world has seen; and not till the French ‘milliards’ were distributed after 1871 did pessimism overrun the country in the shape in which we see it there to-day. The history of our own race is one long commentary on the cheerfulness that comes with fighting ills. Or take the Waldenses, of whom I lately have been reading, as examples of what strong men will endure. In 1485 a papal bull of Innocent VIII enjoined their extermination. It absolved those who should take up the crusade against them from all ecclesiastical pains and penalties, released them from any oath, legitimized their title to all property which they might have illegally acquired, and promised remission of sins to all who should kill the heretics.

‘There is no town in Piedmont,’ says a Vaudois writer, ‘where some of our brethren have not been put to death. Jordan Terbano was burnt alive at Susa; Hippolite Rossiero at Turin; Michael Goneto, an octogenarian, at Sarcena; Vilermin Ambrosio hanged on the Col di Memo; Hugo Chiambs, of Fenestrelle, had his entrails torn from his living body at Turin; Peter Geymarali of Bobbio in like manner had his entrails taken out in Lucerna, and a fierce cat thrust in their place to torture him further; Maria Romano was buried alive at Rocca Patia; Magdalena Fauno underwent the same fate at San Giovanni; Susanna Michelini was bound hand and foot, and left to perish of cold and hunger on the snow at Sarcena: Bartolomeo Fache, gashed with sabres, had the wounds filled up with quicklime, and perished thus in agony at Fenile; Daniel Michelini had his tongue torn out at Bobbo for having praised God; James Baridari perished covered with sulphurous matches which had been forced into his flesh under the nails, between the fingers, in the nostrils, in the lips, and all over the body, and then lighted; Daniel Rovelli had his mouth filled with gunpowder, which, being lighted, blew his head to pieces; … Sara Rostignol was slit open from the legs to the bosom, and left so to perish on the road between Eyral and Lucerna; Anna Charbonnier was impaled, and carried thus on a pike from San Giovanni to LaTorre.’

Und dergleichen mehr! [And so on and so forth!] In 1630 the plague swept away one-half of the Vaudois population, including fifteen of their seventeen pastors. The places of these were supplied from Geneva and Dauphiny, and the whole Vaudois people learned French in order to follow their services. More than once their number fell, by unremitting persecution, from the normal standard of twenty-five thousand to about four thousand. In 1686 the Duke of Savoy ordered the three thousand that remained to give up their faith or leave the country. Refusing, they fought the French and Piedmontese armies till only eighty of their fighting men remained alive or uncaptured, when they gave up, and were sent in a body to Switzerland. But in 1689, encouraged by William of Orange and led by one of their pastor-captains, between eight hundred and nine hundred of them returned to conquer their old homes again. They fought their way to Bobi, reduced to four hundred men in the first half year, and met every force sent against them; until at last the Duke of Savoy, giving up his alliance with that abomination of desolation, Louis XIV, restored them to comparative freedom, - since which time they have increased and multiplied in their barren Alpine valleys to this day.

What are our woes and sufferance compared with these? Does not the recital of such a fight so obstinately waged against such odds fill us with resolution against our petty powers of darkness, - machine politicians, spoilsmen, and the rest? Life is worth living, no matter what it bring, if only such combats may be carried to successful terminations and one’s heel set on the tyrant’s throat. To the suicide, then, in his supposed world of multifarious and immoral nature, you can appeal - and appeal in the name of the very evils that make his heart sick there - to wait and see his part of the battle out. And the consent to live on, which you ask of him under these circumstances, is not the sophistical ‘resignation’ which devotees of cowering religions preach: it is not resignation in the sense of licking a despotic Deity’s hand. It is, on the contrary, a resignation based on manliness and pride. So long as your would-be suicide leaves an evil of his own unremedied, so long he has strictly no concern with evil in the abstract and at large. The submission which you demand of yourself to the general fact of evil in the world, your apparent acquiescence in it, is here nothing but the conviction that evil at large is none of your business until your business with your private particular evils is liquidated and settled up. A challenge of this sort, with proper designation of detail, is one that need only be made to be accepted by men whose normal instincts are not decayed; and your reflective, would-be suicide may easily be moved by it to face life with a certain interest again. The sentiment of honor is a very penetrating thing. When you and I, for instance, realize how many innocent beasts have had to suffer in cattlecars and slaughter-pens and lay down their lives that we might grow up, all fattened and clad, to sit together here in comfort and carry on this discourse, it does, indeed, put our relation to the universe in a more solemn light. ‘Does not,’ as a young Amherst philosopher (Xenos Clark, now dead) once wrote, ‘the acceptance of a happy life upon such terms involve a point of honor?’ Are we not bound to take some suffering upon ourselves, to do some self-denying service with our lives, in return for all those lives upon which ours are built? To hear this question is to answer it in but one possible way, if one have a normally constituted heart.

Thus, then, we see that mere instinctive curiosity, pugnacity, and honor may make life on a purely naturalistic basis seem worth living from day to day to men who have cast away all metaphysics in order to get rid of hypochondria, but who are resolved to owe nothing as yet to religion and its more positive gifts. A poor halfway stage, some of you may be inclined to say; but at least you must grant it to be an honest stage; and no man should dare to speak meanly of these instincts which are our nature’s best equipment, and to which religion herself must in the last resort address her own peculiar appeals.

IV.

And now, in turning to what religion may have to say to the question, I come to what is the soul of my discourse. Religion has meant many things in human history; but when from now onward I use the word I mean to use it in the supernaturalist sense, as declaring that the so-called order of nature, which constitutes this world’s experience, is only one portion of the total universe, and that there stretches beyond this visible world an unseen world of which we now know nothing positive, but in its relation to which the true significance of our present mundane life consists. A man’s religious faith (whatever more special items of doctrine it may involve) means for me essentially his faith in the existence of an unseen order of some kind in which the riddles of the natural order may be found explained. In the more developed religions the natural world has always been regarded as the mere scaffolding or vestibule of a truer, more eternal world, and affirmed to be a sphere of education, trial, or redemption. In these religions, one must in some fashion die to the natural life before one can enter into life eternal. The notion that this physical world of wind and water, where the sun rises and the moon sets, is absolutely and ultimately the divinely aimed-at and established thing, is one which we find only in very early religions, such as that of the most primitive Jews. It is this natural religion (primitive still, in spite of the fact that poets and men of science whose good-will exceeds their perspicacity keep publishing it in new editions tuned to our contemporary ears) that, as I said a while ago, has suffered definitive bankruptcy in the opinion of a circle of persons, among whom I must count myself, and who are growing more numerous every day. For such persons the physical order of nature, taken simply as science knows it, cannot be held to reveal any one harmonious spiritual intent. It is mere weather, as Chauncey Wright called it, doing and undoing without end.

Now, I wish to make you feel, if I can in the short remainder of this hour, that we have a right to believe the physical order to be only a partial order; that we have a right to supplement it by an unseen spiritual order which we assume on trust, if only thereby life may seem to us better worth living again. But as such a trust will seem to some of you sadly mystical and execrably unscientific, I must first say a word or two to weaken the veto which you may consider that science opposes to our act.

There is included in human nature an ingrained naturalism and materialism of mind which can only admit facts that are actually tangible. Of this sort of mind the entity called ‘science’ is the idol. Fondness for the word ‘scientist’ is one of the notes by which you may know its votaries; and its short way of killing any opinion that it disbelieves in is to call it ‘unscientific.’ It must be granted that there is no slight excuse for this. Science has made such glorious leaps in the last three hundred years, and extended our knowledge of nature so enormously both in general and in detail; men of science, moreover, have as a class displayed such admirable virtues, - that it is no wonder if the worshippers of science lose their head. In this very University, accordingly, I have heard more than one teacher say that all the fundamental conceptions of truth have already been found by science, and that the future has only the details of the picture to fill in. But the slightest reflection on the real conditions will suffice to show how barbaric such notions are. They show such a lack of scientific imagination, that it is hard to see how one who is actively advancing any part of science can make a mistake so crude. Think how many absolutely new scientific conceptions have arisen in our own generation, how many new problems have been formulated that were never thought of before, and then cast an eye upon the brevity of science’s career. It began with Galileo, not three hundred years ago. Four thinkers since Galileo, each informing his successor of what discoveries his own lifetime had seen achieved, might have passed the torch of science into our hands as we sit here in this room. Indeed, for the matter of that, an audience much smaller than the present one, an audience of some five or six score people, if each person in it could speak for his own generation, would carry us away to the black unknown of the human species, to days without a document or monument to tell their tale. Is it credible that such a mushroom knowledge, such a growth overnight as this, can represent more than the minutest glimpse of what the universe will really prove to be when adequately understood? No! our science is a drop, our ignorance a sea. Whatever else be certain, this at least is certain, - that the world of our present natural knowledge is enveloped in a larger world of some sort of whose residual properties we at present can frame no positive idea.

Agnostic positivism, of course, admits this principle theoretically in the most cordial terms, but insists that we must not turn it to any practical use. We have no right, this doctrine tells us, to dream dreams, or suppose anything about the unseen part of the universe, merely because to do so may be for what we are pleased to call our highest interests. We must always wait for sensible evidence for our beliefs; and where such evidence is inaccessible we must frame no hypotheses whatever. Of course this is a safe enough position in abstracto. If a thinker had no stake in the unknown, no vital needs, to live or languish according to what the unseen world contained, a philosophic neutrality and refusal to believe either one way or the other would be his wisest cue. But, unfortunately, neutrality is not only inwardly difficult, it is also outwardly unrealizable, where our relations to an alternative are practical and vital. This is because, as the psychologists tell us, belief and doubt are living attitudes, and involve conduct on our part. Our only way, for example, of doubting, or refusing to believe, that a certain thing is, is continuing to act as if it were not. If, for instance, I refuse to believe that the room is getting cold, I leave the windows open and light no fire just as if it still were warm. If I doubt that you are worthy of my confidence, I keep you uninformed of all my secrets just as if you were unworthy of the same. If I doubt the need of insuring my house, I leave it uninsured as much as if I believed there were no need. And so if I must not believe that the world is divine, I can only express that refusal by declining ever to act distinctively as if it were so, which can only mean acting on certain critical occasions as if it were not so, or in an irreligious way. There are, you see, inevitable occasions in life when inaction is a kind of action, and must count as action, and when not to be for is to be practically against; and in all such cases strict and consistent neutrality is an unattainable thing.

And, after all, is not this duty of neutrality where only our inner interests would lead us to believe, the most ridiculous of commands? Is it not sheer dogmatic folly to say that our inner interests can have no real connection with the forces that the hidden world may contain? In other cases divinations based on inner interests have proved prophetic enough. Take science itself! Without an imperious inner demand on our part for ideal logical and mathematical harmonies, we should never have attained to proving that such harmonies lie hidden between all the chinks and interstices of the crude natural world. Hardly a law has been established in science, hardly a fact ascertained, which was not first sought after, often with sweat and blood, to gratify an inner need. Whence such needs come from we do not know: we find them in us, and biological psychology so far only classes them with Darwin’s ‘accidental variations.’ But the inner need of believing that this world of nature is a sign of something more spiritual and eternal than itself is just as strong and authoritative in those who feel it, as the inner need of uniform laws of causation ever can be in a professionally scientific head. The toil of many generations has proved the latter need prophetic. Why may not the former one be prophetic, too? And if needs of ours outrun the visible universe, why may not that be a sign that an invisible universe is there? What, in short, has authority to debar us from trusting our religious demands? Science as such assuredly has no authority, for she can only say what is, not what is not; and the agnostic ‘thou shalt not believe without coercive sensible evidence’ is simply an expression (free to any one to make) of private personal appetite for evidence of a certain peculiar kind.

Now, when I speak of trusting our religious demands, just what do I mean by ‘trusting’? Is the word to carry with it license to define in detail an invisible world, and to anathematize and excommunicate those whose trust is different? Certainly not! Our faculties of belief were not primarily given us to make orthodoxies and heresies withal; they were given us to live by. And to trust our religious demands means first of all to live in the light of them, and to act as if the invisible world which they suggest were real. It is a fact of human nature, that men can live and die by the help of a sort of faith that goes without a single dogma or definition. The bare assurance that this natural order is not ultimate but a mere sign or vision, the external staging of a many-storied universe, in which spiritual forces have the last word and are eternal, - this bare assurance is to such men enough to make life seem worth living in spite of every contrary presumption suggested by its circumstances on the natural plane. Destroy this inner assurance, however, vague as it is, and all the light and radiance of existence is extinguished for these persons at a stroke. Often enough the wild-eyed look at life - the suicidal mood - will then set in.

And now the application comes directly home to you and me. Probably to almost every one of us here the most adverse life would seem well worth living, if we only could be certain that our bravery and patience with it were terminating and eventuating and bearing fruit somewhere in an unseen spiritual world. But granting we are not certain, does it then follow that a bare trust in such a world is a fool’s paradise and lubberland, or rather that it is a living attitude in which we are free to indulge? Well, we are free to trust at our own risks anything that is not impossible, and that can bring analogies to bear in its behalf. That the world of physics is probably not absolute, all the converging multitude of arguments that make in favor of idealism tend to prove; and that our whole physical life may lie soaking in a spiritual atmosphere, a dimension of being that we at present have no organ for apprehending, is vividly suggested to us by the analogy of the life of our domestic animals. Our dogs, for example, are in our human life but not of it. They witness hourly the outward body of events whose inner meaning cannot, by any possible operation, be revealed to their intelligence, - events in which they themselves often play the cardinal part. My terrier bites a teasing boy, for example, and the father demands damages. The dog may be present at every step of the negotiations, and see the money paid, without an inkling of what it all means, without a suspicion that it has anything to do with him; and he never can know in his natural dog’s life. Or take another case which used greatly to impress me in my medical-student days. Consider a poor dog whom they are vivisecting in a laboratory. He lies strapped on a board and shrieking at his executioners, and to his own dark consciousness is literally in a sort of hell. He cannot see a single redeeming ray in the whole business; and yet all these diabolicalseeming events are often controlled by human intentions with which, if his poor benighted mind could only be made to catch a glimpse of them, all that is heroic in him would religiously acquiesce. Healing truth, relief to future sufferings of beast and man, are to be bought by them. It may be genuinely a process of redemption. Lying on his back on the board there he may be performing a function incalculably higher than any that prosperous canine life admits of; and yet, of the whole performance, this function is the one portion that must remain absolutely beyond his ken.

Now turn from this to the life of man. In the dog’s life we see the world invisible to him because we live in both worlds. In human life, although we only see our world, and his within it, yet encompassing both these worlds a still wider world may be there, as unseen by us as our world is by him; and to believe in that world may be the most essential function that our lives in this world have to perform. But ‘may be! may be!’ one now hears the positivist contemptuously exclaim; ‘what use can a scientific life have for maybes?’ Well, I reply, the ‘scientific’ life itself has much to do with maybes, and human life at large has everything to do with them. So far as man stands for anything, and is productive or originative at all, his entire vital function may be said to have to deal with maybes. Not a victory is gained, not a deed of faithfulness or courage is done, except upon a maybe; not a service, not a sally of generosity, not a scientific exploration or experiment or text-book, that may not be a mistake. It is only by risking our persons from one hour to another that we live at all. And often enough our faith beforehand in an uncertified result is the only thing that makes the result come true. Suppose, for instance, that you are climbing a mountain, and have worked yourself into a position from which the only escape is by a terrible leap. Have faith that you can successfully make it, and your feet are nerved to its accomplishment. But mistrust yourself, and think of all the sweet things you have heard the scientists say of maybes, and you will hesitate so long that, at last, all unstrung and trembling, and launching yourself in a moment of despair, you roll in the abyss. In such a case (and it belongs to an enormous class), the part of wisdom as well as of courage is to believe what is in the line of your needs, for only by such belief is the need fulfilled. Refuse to believe, and you shall indeed be right, for you shall irretrievably perish. But believe, and again you shall be right, for you shall save yourself. You make one or the other of two possible universes true by your trust or mistrust, - both universes having been only maybes, in this particular, before you contributed your act.

Now, it appears to me that the question whether life is worth living is subject to conditions logically much like these. It does, indeed, depend on you the liver. If you surrender to the nightmare view and crown the evil edifice by your own suicide, you have indeed made a picture totally black. Pessimism, completed by your act, is true beyond a doubt, so far as your world goes. Your mistrust of life has removed whatever worth your own enduring existence might have given to it; and now, throughout the whole sphere of possible influence of that existence, the mistrust has proved itself to have had divining power. But suppose, on the other hand, that instead of giving way to the nightmare view you cling to it that this world is not the ultimatum. Suppose you find yourself a very wellspring, as Wordsworth says, of -

Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith

As soldiers live by courage; as, by strength

Of heart, the sailor fights with roaring seas.

Suppose, however thickly evils crowd upon you, that your unconquerable subjectivity proves to be their match, and that you find a more wonderful joy than any passive pleasure can bring in trusting ever in the larger whole. Have you not now made life worth living on these terms? What sort of a thing would life really be, with your qualities ready for a tussle with it, if it only brought fair weather and gave these higher faculties of yours no scope? Please remember that optimism and pessimism are definitions of the world, and that our own reactions on the world, small as they are in bulk, are integral parts of the whole thing, and necessarily help to determine the definition. They may even be the decisive elements in determining the definition. A large mass can have its unstable equilibrium overturned by the addition of a feather’s weight; a long phrase may have its sense reversed by the addition of the three letters n-o-t. This life is worth living, we can say, since it is what we make it, from the moral point of view; and we are determined to make it from that point of view, so far as we have anything to do with it, a success.

Now, in this description of faiths that verify themselves I have assumed that our faith in an invisible order is what inspires those efforts and that patience which make this visible order good for moral men. Our faith in the seen world’s goodness (goodness now meaning fitness for successful moral and religious life) has verified itself by leaning on our faith in the unseen world. But will our faith in the unseen world similarly verify itself? Who knows?

Once more it is a case of maybe; and once more maybes are the essence of the situation. I confess that I do not see why the very existence of an invisible world may not in part depend on the personal response which any one of us may make to the religious appeal. God himself, in short, may draw vital strength and increase of very being from our fidelity. For my own part, I do not know what the sweat and blood and tragedy of this life mean, if they mean anything short of this. If this life be not a real fight, in which something is eternally gained for the universe by success, it is no better than a game of private theatricals from which one may withdraw at will. But it feels like a real fight, - as if there were something really wild in the universe which we, with all our idealities and faithfulnesses, are needed to redeem; and first of all to redeem our own hearts from atheisms and fears. For such a half-wild, half-saved universe our nature is adapted. The deepest thing in our nature is this Binnenleben [‘inner life’] (as a German doctor lately has called it), this dumb region of the heart in which we dwell alone with our willingnesses and unwillingnesses, our faiths and fears. As through the cracks and crannies of caverns those waters exude from the earth’s bosom which then form the fountain-heads of springs, so in these crepuscular depths of personality the sources of all our outer deeds and decisions take their rise. Here is our deepest organ of communication with the nature of things; and compared with these concrete movements of our soul all abstract statements and scientific arguments - the veto, for example, which the strict positivist pronounces upon our faith - sound to us like mere chatterings of the teeth. For here possibilities, not finished facts, are the realities with which we have actively to deal; and to quote my friend William Salter, of the Philadelphia Ethical Society, ‘as the essence of courage is to stake one’s life on a possibility, so the essence of faith is to believe that the possibility exists.’

These, then, are my last words to you: Be not afraid of life. Believe that life is worth living, and your belief will help create the fact. The ‘scientific proof’ that you are right may not be clear before the day of judgment (or some stage of being which that expression may serve to symbolize) is reached. But the faithful fighters of this hour, or the beings that then and there will represent them, may then turn to the faint-hearted, who here decline to go on, with words like those with which Henry IV greeted the tardy Crillon after a great victory had been gained; ‘Hang yourself, brave Crillon! we fought at Arques, and you were not there.’

What Pragmatism Means

Some years ago, being with a camping party in the mountains, I returned from a solitary ramble to find every one engaged in a ferocious metaphysical dispute. The corpus of the dispute was a squirrel - a live squirrel supposed to be clinging to one side of a tree-trunk; while over against the tree’s opposite side a human being was imagined to stand. This human witness tries to get sight of the squirrel by moving rapidly round the tree, but no matter how fast he goes, the squirrel moves as fast in the opposite direction, and always keeps the tree between himself and the man, so that never a glimpse of him is caught. The resultant metaphysical problem now is this: Does the man go round the squirrel or not? He goes round the tree, sure enough, and the squirrel is on the tree; but does he go round the squirrel? In the unlimited leisure of the wilderness, discussion had been worn threadbare. Everyone had taken sides, and was obstinate; and the numbers on both sides were even. Each side, when I appeared, therefore appealed to me to make it a majority. Mindful of the scholastic adage that whenever you meet a contradiction you must make a distinction, I immediately sought and found one, as follows: ‘Which party is right,’ I said, ‘depends on what you practically mean by “going round” the squirrel. If you mean passing from the north of him to the east, then to the south, then to the west, and then to the north of him again, obviously the man does go round him, for he occupies these successive positions. But if on the contrary you mean being first in front of him, then on the right of him, then behind him, then on his left, and finally in front again, it is quite as obvious that the man fails to go round him, for by the compensating movements the squirrel makes, he keeps his belly turned towards the man all the time, and his back turned away. Make the distinction, and there is no occasion for any farther dispute. You are both right and both wrong according as you conceive the verb “to go round” in one practical fashion or the other.’

Although one or two of the hotter disputants called my speech a shuffling evasion, saying they wanted no quibbling or scholastic hair-splitting, but meant just plain honest English ‘round,’ the majority seemed to think that the distinction had assuaged the dispute.

I tell this trivial anecdote because it is a peculiarly simple example of what I wish now to speak of as the pragmatic method. The pragmatic method is primarily a method of settling metaphysical disputes that otherwise might be interminable. Is the world one or many? - fated or free? - material or spiritual? - here are notions either of which may or may not hold good of the world; and disputes over such notions are unending. The pragmatic method in such cases is to try to interpret each notion by tracing its respective practical consequences. What difference would it practically make to any one if this notion rather than that notion were true? If no practical difference whatever can be traced, then the alternatives mean practically the same thing, and all dispute is idle. Whenever a dispute is serious, we ought to be able to show some practical difference that must follow from one side or the other’s being right.

A glance at the history of the idea will show you still better what pragmatism means. The term is derived from the same Greek word , meaning action, from which our words ‘practice’ and ‘practical’ come. It was first introduced into philosophy by Mr Charles Peirce in 1878. In an article entitled ‘How to Make Our Ideas Clear,’ in the ‘Popular Science Monthly’ for January of that year, Mr Peirce, after pointing out that our beliefs are really rules for action, said that, to develop a thought’s meaning, we need only determine what conduct it is fitted to produce: that conduct is for us its sole significance. And the tangible fact at the root of all our thoughtdistinctions, however subtle, is that there is no one of them so fine as to consist in anything but a possible difference of practice. To attain perfect clearness in our thoughts of an object, then, we need only consider what conceivable effects of a practical kind the object may involve - what sensations we are to expect from it, and what reactions we must prepare. Our conception of these effects, whether immediate or remote, is then for us the whole of our conception of the object, so far as that conception has positive significance at all.

This is the principle of Peirce, the principle of pragmatism. It lay entirely unnoticed by any one for twenty years, until I, in an address before Professor Howison’s philosophical union at the university of California, brought it forward again and made a special application of it to religion. By that date (1908) the times seemed ripe for its reception. The word ‘pragmatism’ spread, and at present it fairly spots the pages of the philosophic journals. On all hands we find the ‘pragmatic movement’ spoken of, sometimes with respect, sometimes with contumely, seldom with clear understanding. It is evident that the term applies itself conveniently to a number of tendencies that hitherto have lacked a collective name, and that it has ‘come to stay.’

To take in the importance of Peirce’s principle, one must get accustomed to applying it to concrete cases. I found a few years ago that Ostwald, the illustrious Leipzig chemist, had been making perfectly distinct use of the principle of pragmatism in his lectures on the philosophy of science; though he had not called it by that name.

‘All realities influence our practice,’ he wrote me, ‘and that influence is their meaning for us. I am accustomed to put questions to my classes in this way: In what respects would the world be different if this alternative or that were true? If I can find nothing that would become different, then the alternative has no sense.’

That is, the rival views mean practically the same thing, and meaning, other than practical, there is for us none. Ostwald in a published lecture gives this example of what he means. Chemists have long wrangled over the inner constitution of certain bodies called ‘tautomerous.’ Their properties seemed equally consistent with the notion that an instable hydrogen atom oscillates inside of them, or that they are instable mixtures of two bodies. Controversy raged, but never was decided. ‘It would never have begun,’ says Ostwald, ‘if the combatants had asked themselves what particular experimental fact could have been made different by one or the other view being correct. For it would then have appeared that no difference of fact could possibly ensue; and the quarrel was as unreal as if, theorizing in primitive times about the raising of dough by yeast, one party should have invoked a “brownie,” while another insisted on an “elf” as the true cause of the phenomenon.’

It is astonishing to see how many philosophical disputes collapse into insignificance the moment you subject them to this simple test of tracing a concrete consequence. There can be no difference anywhere that doesn’t make a difference elsewhere - no difference in abstract truth that doesn’t express itself in a difference in concrete fact and in conduct consequent upon that fact, imposed on somebody, somehow, somewhere, and somewhen. The whole function of philosophy ought to be to find out what definite difference it will make to you and me, at definite instants of our life, if this world-formula or that world-formula be the true one.

There is absolutely nothing new in the pragmatic method. Socrates was an adept at it. Aristotle used it methodically. Locke, Berkeley, and Hume made momentous contributions to truth by its means. Shadworth Hodgson keeps insisting that realities are only what they are ‘known as.’ But these forerunners of pragmatism used it in fragments: they were preluders only. Not until in our time has it generalized itself, become conscious of a universal mission, pretended to a conquering destiny. I believe in that destiny, and I hope I may end by inspiring you with my belief.

Pragmatism represents a perfectly familiar attitude in philosophy, the empiricist attitude, but it represents it, as it seems to me, both in a more radical and in a less objectionable form than it has ever yet assumed. A pragmatist turns his back resolutely and once for all upon a lot of inveterate habits dear to professional philosophers. He turns away from abstraction and insufficiency, from verbal solutions, from bad a priori reasons, from fixed principles, closed systems, and pretended absolutes and origins. He turns towards concreteness and adequacy, towards facts, towards action and towards power. That means the empiricist temper regnant and the rationalist temper sincerely given up. It means the open air and possibilities of nature, as against dogma, artificiality, and the pretence of finality in truth.

At the same time it does not stand for any special results. It is a method only. But the general triumph of that method would mean an enormous change in what I called in my last lecture the ‘temperament’ of philosophy. Teachers of the ultra-rationalistic type would be frozen out, much as the courtier type is frozen out in republics, as the ultramontane type of priest is frozen out in protestant lands. Science and metaphysics would come much nearer together, would in fact work absolutely hand in hand.

Metaphysics has usually followed a very primitive kind of quest. You know how men have always hankered after unlawful magic, and you know what a great part in magic words have always played. If you have his name, or the formula of incantation that binds him, you can control the spirit, genie, afrite, or whatever the power may be. Solomon knew the names of all the spirits, and having their names, he held them subject to his will. So the universe has always appeared to the natural mind as a kind of enigma, of which the key must be sought in the shape of some illuminating or power-bringing word or name. That word names the universe’s principle, and to possess it is after a fashion to possess the universe itself. ‘God,’ ‘Matter,’ ‘Reason,’ ‘the Absolute,’ ‘Energy,’ are so many solving names. You can rest when you have them. You are at the end of your metaphysical quest.

But if you follow the pragmatic method, you cannot look on any such word as closing your quest. You must bring out of each word its practical cash-value, set it at work within the stream of your experience. It appears less as a solution, then, than as a program for more work, and more particularly as an indication of the ways in which existing realities may be changed.

Theories thus become instruments, not answers to enigmas, in which we can rest. We don’t lie back upon them, we move forward, and, on occasion, make nature over again by their aid. Pragmatism unstiffens all our theories, limbers them up and sets each one at work. Being nothing essentially new, it harmonizes with many ancient philosophic tendencies. It agrees with nominalism for instance, in always appealing to particulars; with utilitarianism in emphasizing practical aspects; with positivism in its disdain for verbal solutions, useless questions and metaphysical abstractions.

All these, you see, are anti-intellectualist tendencies. Against rationalism as a pretension and a method pragmatism is fully armed and militant. But, at the outset, at least, it stands for no particular results. It has no dogmas, and no doctrines save its method. As the young Italian pragmatist Papini has well said, it lies in the midst of our theories, like a corridor in a hotel. Innumerable chambers open out of it. In one you may find a man writing an atheistic volume; in the next some one on his knees praying for faith and strength; in a third a chemist investigating a body’s properties. In a fourth a system of idealistic metaphysics is being excogitated; in a fifth the impossibility of metaphysics is being shown. But they all own the corridor, and all must pass through it if they want a practicable way of getting into or out of their respective rooms.

No particular results then, so far, but only an attitude of orientation, is what the pragmatic method means. The attitude of looking away from first things, principles, ‘categories,’ supposed necessities; and of looking towards last things, fruits, consequences, facts.

So much for the pragmatic method! You may say that I have been praising it rather than explaining it to you, but I shall presently explain it abundantly enough by showing how it works on some familiar problems. Meanwhile the word pragmatism has come to be used in a still wider sense, as meaning also a certain theory of truth. I mean to give a whole lecture to the statement of that theory, after first paving the way, so I can be very brief now. But brevity is hard to follow, so I ask for your redoubled attention for a quarter of an hour. If much remains obscure, I hope to make it clearer in the later lectures.

One of the most successfully cultivated branches of philosophy in our time is what is called inductive logic, the study of the conditions under which our sciences have evolved. Writers on this subject have begun to show a singular unanimity as to what the laws of nature and elements of fact mean, when formulated by mathematicians, physicists and chemists. When the first mathematical, logical, and natural uniformities, the first laws, were discovered, men were so carried away by the clearness, beauty and simplification that resulted, that they believed themselves to have deciphered authentically the eternal thoughts of the Almighty. His mind also thundered and reverberated in syllogisms. He also thought in conic sections, squares and roots and ratios, and geometrized like Euclid. He made Kepler’s laws for the planets to follow, he made velocity increase proportionally to the time in falling bodies; he made the law of the sines for light to obey when refracted; he established the classes, orders, families and genera of plants and animals, and fixed the distances between them. He thought the archetypes of all things, and devised their variations; and when we rediscover any one of these his wondrous institutions, we seize his mind in its very literal intention.

But as the sciences have developed farther the notion has gained ground that most, perhaps all, of our laws are only approximations. The laws themselves, moreover, have grown so numerous that there is no counting them; and so many rival formulations are proposed in all the branches of science that investigators have become accustomed to the notion that no theory is absolutely a transcript of reality, but that any one of them may from some point of view be useful. Their great use is to summarize old facts and to lead to new ones. They are only a man-made language, a conceptual shorthand, as some one calls them, in which we write our reports of nature; and languages, as is well known, tolerate much choice of expression and many dialects.

Thus human arbitrariness has driven divine necessity from scientific logic. If I mention the names of Sigwart, Mach, Ostwald, Pearson, Milhaud, Poincaré, Duhem, Ruyssen, those of you who are students will easily identify the tendency I speak of, and will think of additional names.

Riding now on the front of this wave of scientific logic Messrs. Schiller and Dewey appear with their pragmatistic account of what truth everywhere signifies. Everywhere, these teachers say, ‘truth’ in our ideas and beliefs means the same thing that it means in science. It means, they say, nothing but this, that ideas (which themselves are but parts of our experience) become true just in so far as they help us to get into satisfactory relation with other parts of our experience, to summarize them and get about among them by conceptual short-cuts instead of following the interminable succession of particular phenomena. Any idea upon which we can ride, so to speak; any idea that will carry us prosperously from any one part of our experience to any other part, linking things satisfactorily, working securely, simplifying, saving labor; is true for just so much, true in so far forth, true instrumentally. This is the ‘instrumental’ view of truth taught so successfully at Chicago, the view that truth in our ideas means their power to ‘work’, promulgated so brilliantly at Oxford.

Messrs. Dewey, Schiller and their allies, in reaching this general conception of all truth, have only followed the example of geologists, biologists and philologists. In the establishment of these other sciences, the successful stroke was always to take some simple process actually observable in operation - as denudation by weather, say, or variation from parental type, or change of dialect by incorporation of new words and pronunciations - and then to generalize it, making it apply to all times, and produce great results by summating its effects through the ages.

The observable process which Schiller and Dewey particularly singled out for generalization is the familiar one by which any individual settles into new opinions. The process here is always the same. The individual has a stock of old opinions already, but he meets a new experience that puts them to a strain. Somebody contradicts them; or in a reflective moment he discovers that they contradict each other; or he hears of facts with which they are incompatible; or desires arise in him which they cease to satisfy. The result is an inward trouble to which his mind till then had been a stranger, and from which he seeks to escape by modifying his previous mass of opinions. He saves as much of it as he can, for in this matter of belief we are all extreme conservatives. So he tries to change first this opinion, and then that (for they resist change very variously), until at last some new idea comes up which he can graft upon the ancient stock with a minimum of disturbance of the latter, some idea that mediates between the stock and the new experience and runs them into one another most felicitously and expediently.

This new idea is then adopted as the true one. It preserves the older stock of truths with a minimum of modification, stretching them just enough to make them admit the novelty, but conceiving that in ways as familiar as the case leaves possible. An outrée explanation, violating all our preconceptions, would never pass for a true account of a novelty. We should scratch round industriously till we found something less eccentric. The most violent revolutions in an individual’s beliefs leave most of his old order standing. Time and space, cause and effect, nature and history, and one’s own biography remain untouched. New truth is always a go-between, a smoother-over of transitions. It marries old opinion to new fact so as ever to show a minimum of jolt, a maximum of continuity. We hold a theory true just in proportion to its success in solving this ‘problem of maxima and minima.’ But success in solving this problem is eminently a matter of approximation. We say this theory solves it on the whole more satisfactorily than that theory; but that means more satisfactorily to ourselves, and individuals will emphasize their points of satisfaction differently. To a certain degree, therefore, everything here is plastic.

The point I now urge you to observe particularly is the part played by the older truths. Failure to take account of it is the source of much of the unjust criticism levelled against pragmatism. Their influence is absolutely controlling. Loyalty to them is the first principle - in most cases it is the only principle; for by far the most usual way of handling phenomena so novel that they would make for a serious rearrangement of our preconception is to ignore them altogether, or to abuse those who bear witness for them.

You doubtless wish examples of this process of truth’s growth, and the only trouble is their superabundance. The simplest case of new truth is of course the mere numerical addition of new kinds of facts, or of new single facts of old kinds, to our experience - an addition that involves no alteration in the old beliefs. Day follows day, and its contents are simply added. The new contents themselves are not true, they simply come and are. Truth is what we say about them, and when we say that they have come, truth is satisfied by the plain additive formula.

But often the day’s contents oblige a rearrangement. If I should now utter piercing shrieks and act like a maniac on this platform, it would make many of you revise your ideas as to the probable worth of my philosophy. ‘Radium’ came the other day as part of the day’s content, and seemed for a moment to contradict our ideas of the whole order of nature, that order having come to be identified with what is called the conservation of energy. The mere sight of radium paying heat away indefinitely out of its own pocket seemed to violate that conservation. What to think? If the radiations from it were nothing but an escape of unsuspected ‘potential’ energy, pre-existent inside of the atoms, the principle of conservation would be saved. The discovery of ‘helium’ as the radiation’s outcome, opened a way to this belief. So Ramsay’s view is generally held to be true, because, although it extends our old ideas of energy, it causes a minimum of alteration in their nature.

I need not multiply instances. A new opinion counts as ‘true’ just in proportion as it gratifies the individual’s desire to assimilate the novel in his experience to his beliefs in stock. It must both lean on old truth and grasp new fact; and its success (as I said a moment ago) in doing this, is a matter for the individual’s appreciation. When old truth grows, then, by new truth’s addition, it is for subjective reasons. We are in the process and obey the reasons. That new idea is truest which performs most felicitously its function of satisfying our double urgency. It makes itself true, gets itself classed as true, by the way it works; grafting itself then upon the ancient body of truth, which thus grows much as a tree grows by the activity of a new layer of cambium.

Now Dewey and Schiller proceed to generalize this observation and to apply it to the most ancient parts of truth. They also once were plastic. They also were called true for human reasons. They also mediated between still earlier truths and what in those days were novel observations. Purely objective truth, truth in whose establishment the function of giving human satisfaction in marrying previous parts of experience with newer parts played no role whatever, is nowhere to be found. The reasons why we call things true is the reason why they are true, for ‘to be true’ means only to perform this marriage-function.

The trail of the human serpent is thus over everything. Truth independent; truth that we find merely; truth no longer malleable to human need; truth incorrigible, in a word; such truth exists indeed superabundantly - or is supposed to exist by rationalistically minded thinkers; but then it means only the dead heart of the living tree, and its being there means only that truth also has its paleontology, and its ‘prescription,’ and may grow stiff with years of veteran service and petrified in men’s regard by sheer antiquity. But how plastic even the oldest truths nevertheless really are has been vividly shown in our day by the transformation of logical and mathematical ideas, a transformation which seems even to be invading physics. The ancient formulas are reinterpreted as special expressions of much wider principles, principles that our ancestors never got a glimpse of in their present shape and formulation.

Mr Schiller still gives to all this view of truth the name of ‘Humanism,’ but, for this doctrine too, the name of pragmatism seems fairly to be in the ascendant, so I will treat it under the name of pragmatism in these lectures.

Such then would be the scope of pragmatism - first, a method; and second, a genetic theory of what is meant by truth. And these two things must be our future topics.

What I have said of the theory of truth will, I am sure, have appeared obscure and unsatisfactory to most of you by reason of its brevity. I shall make amends for that hereafter. In a lecture on ‘common sense’ I shall try to show what I mean by truths grown petrified by antiquity. In another lecture I shall expatiate on the idea that our thoughts become true in proportion as they successfully exert their go-between function. In a third I shall show how hard it is to discriminate subjective from objective factors in Truth’s development. You may not follow me wholly in these lectures; and if you do, you may not wholly agree with me. But you will, I know, regard me at least as serious, and treat my effort with respectful consideration.

You will probably be surprised to learn, then, that Messrs. Schiller’s and Dewey’s theories have suffered a hailstorm of contempt and ridicule. All rationalism has risen against them. In influential quarters Mr Schiller, in particular, has been treated like an impudent schoolboy who deserves a spanking. I should not mention this, but for the fact that it throws so much sidelight upon that rationalistic temper to which I have opposed the temper of pragmatism. Pragmatism is uncomfortable away from facts. Rationalism is comfortable only in the presence of abstractions. This pragmatist talk about truths in the plural, about their utility and satisfactoriness, about the success with which they ‘work,’ etc., suggests to the typical intellectualist mind a sort of coarse lame second-rate makeshift article of truth. Such truths are not real truth. Such tests are merely subjective. As against this, objective truth must be something non-utilitarian, haughty, refined, remote, august, exalted. It must be an absolute correspondence of our thoughts with an equally absolute reality. It must be what we ought to think unconditionally. The conditioned ways in which we do think are so much irrelevance and matter for psychology. Down with psychology, up with logic, in all this question!

See the exquisite contrast of the types of mind! The pragmatist clings to facts and concreteness, observes truth at its work in particular cases, and generalizes. Truth, for him, becomes a class-name for all sorts of definite working-values in experience. For the rationalist it remains a pure abstraction, to the bare name of which we must defer. When the pragmatist undertakes to show in detail just why we must defer, the rationalist is unable to recognize the concretes from which his own abstraction is taken. He accuses us of denying truth; whereas we have only sought to trace exactly why people follow it and always ought to follow it. Your typical ultraabstractionist fairly shudders at concreteness: other things equal, he positively prefers the pale and spectral. If the two universes were offered, he would always choose the skinny outline rather than the rich thicket of reality. It is so much purer, clearer, nobler.

I hope that as these lectures go on, the concreteness and closeness to facts of the pragmatism which they advocate may be what approves itself to you as its most satisfactory peculiarity. It only follows here the example of the sister-sciences, interpreting the unobserved by the observed. It brings old and new harmoniously together. It converts the absolutely empty notion of a static relation of ‘correspondence’ (what that may mean we must ask later) between our minds and reality, into that of a rich and active commerce (that any one may follow in detail and understand) between particular thoughts of ours, and the great universe of other experiences in which they play their parts and have their uses.

But enough of this at present. The justification of what I say must be postponed. I wish now to add a word in further explanation of the claim I made at our last meeting, that pragmatism may be a happy harmonizer of empiricist ways of thinking with the more religious demands of human beings.

*

Men who are strongly of the fact-loving temperament, you may remember me to have said, are liable to be kept at a distance by the small sympathy with facts which that philosophy from the present-day fashion of idealism offers them. It is far too intellectualistic. Old fashioned theism was bad enough, with its notion of God as an exalted monarch, made up of a lot of unintelligible or preposterous ‘attributes’; but, so long as it held strongly by the argument from design, it kept some touch with concrete realities. Since, however, Darwinism has once for all displaced design from the minds of the ‘scientific,’ theism has lost that foothold; and some kind of an immanent or pantheistic deity working in things rather than above them is, if any, the kind recommended to our contemporary imagination. Aspirants to a philosophic religion turn, as a rule, more hopefully nowadays towards idealistic pantheism than towards the older dualistic theism, in spite of the fact that the latter still counts able defenders.

But, as I said in my first lecture, the brand of pantheism offered is hard for them to assimilate if they are lovers of facts, or empirically minded. It is the absolutistic brand, spurning the dust and reared upon pure logic. It keeps no connexion whatever with concreteness. Affirming the Absolute Mind, which is its substitute for God, to be the rational presupposition of all particulars of fact, whatever they may be, it remains supremely indifferent to what the particular facts in our world actually are. Be they what they may, the Absolute will father them. Like the sick lion in Esop’s fable, all footprints lead into his den, but nulla vestigia retrorsum [‘no tracks lead back out’]. You cannot redescend into the world of particulars by the Absolute’s aid, or deduce any necessary consequences of detail important for your life from your idea of his nature. He gives you indeed the assurance that all is well with Him, and for his eternal way of thinking; but thereupon he leaves you to be finitely saved by your own temporal devices.

Far be it from me to deny the majesty of this conception, or its capacity to yield religious comfort to a most respectable class of minds. But from the human point of view, no one can pretend that it doesn’t suffer from the faults of remoteness and abstractness. It is eminently a product of what I have ventured to call the rationalistic temper. It disdains empiricism’s needs. It substitutes a pallid outline for the real world’s richness. It is dapper, it is noble in the bad sense, in the sense in which to be noble is to be inapt for humble service. In this real world of sweat and dirt, it seems to me that when a view of things is ‘noble,’ that ought to count as a presumption against its truth, and as a philosophic disqualification. The prince of darkness may be a gentleman, as we are told he is, but whatever the God of earth and heaven is, he can surely be no gentleman. His menial services are needed in the dust of our human trials, even more than his dignity is needed in the empyrean.

Now pragmatism, devoted though she be to facts, has no such materialistic bias as ordinary empiricism labors under. Moreover, she has no objection whatever to the realizing of abstractions, so long as you get about among particulars with their aid and they actually carry you somewhere. Interested in no conclusions but those which our minds and our experiences work out together, she has no a priori prejudices against theology. If theological ideas prove to have a value for concrete life, they will be true, for pragmatism, in the sense of being good for so much. For how much more they are true, will depend entirely on their relations to the other truths that also have to be acknowledged.

What I said just now about the Absolute, of transcendental idealism, is a case in point. First, I called it majestic and said it yielded religious comfort to a class of minds, and then I accused it of remoteness and sterility. But so far as it affords such comfort, it surely is not sterile; it has that amount of value; it performs a concrete function. As a good pragmatist, I myself ought to call the Absolute true ‘in so far forth,’ then; and I unhesitatingly now do so.

But what does true in so far forth mean in this case? To answer, we need only apply the pragmatic method. What do believers in the Absolute mean by saying that their belief affords them comfort? They mean that since, in the Absolute, finite evil is ‘overruled’ already, we may, therefore, whenever we wish, treat the temporal as if it were potentially the eternal, be sure that we can trust its outcome, and, without sin, dismiss our fear and drop the worry of our finite responsibility. In short, they mean that we have a right ever and anon to take a moral holiday, to let the world wag in its own way, feeling that its issues are in better hands than ours and are none of our business.

The universe is a system of which the individual members may relax their anxieties occasionally, in which the don’t-care mood is also right for men, and moral holidays in order, - that, if I mistake not, is part, at least, of what the Absolute is ‘known-as,’ that is the great difference in our particular experiences which his being true makes, for us, that is his cash-value when he is pragmatically interpreted. Farther than that the ordinary lay-reader in philosophy who thinks favorably of absolute idealism does not venture to sharpen his conceptions. He can use the Absolute for so much, and so much is very precious. He is pained at hearing you speak incredulously of the Absolute, therefore, and disregards your criticisms because they deal with aspects of the conception that he fails to follow.

If the Absolute means this, and means no more than this, who can possibly deny the truth of it? To deny it would be to insist that men should never relax, and that holidays are never in order.

I am well aware how odd it must seem to some of you to hear me say that an idea is ‘true’ so long as to believe it is profitable to our lives. That it is good, for as much as it profits, you will gladly admit. If what we do by its aid is good, you will allow the idea itself to be good in so far forth, for we are the better for possessing it. But is it not a strange misuse of the word ‘truth,’ you will say, to call ideas also ‘true’ for this reason?

To answer this difficulty fully is impossible at this stage of my account. You touch here upon the very central point of Messrs. Schiller’s, Dewey’s and my own doctrine of truth, which I can not discuss with detail until my sixth lecture. Let me now say only this, that truth is one species of good, and not, as is usually supposed, a category distinct from good, and co-ordinate with it. The true is the name of whatever proves itself to be good in the way of belief, and good, too, for definite, assignable reasons. Surely you must admit this, that if there were no good for life in true ideas, or if the knowledge of them were positively disadvantageous and false ideas the only useful ones, then the current notion that truth is divine and precious, and its pursuit a duty, could never have grown up or become a dogma. In a world like that, our duty would be to shun truth, rather. But in this world, just as certain foods are not only agreeable to our taste, but good for our teeth, our stomach, and our tissues; so certain ideas are not only agreeable to think about, or agreeable as supporting other ideas that we are fond of, but they are also helpful in life’s practical struggles. If there be any life that it is really better we should lead, and if there be any idea which, if believed in, would help us to lead that life, then it would be really better for us to believe in that idea, unless, indeed, belief in it incidentally clashed with other greater vital benefits.

‘What would be better for us to believe!’ This sounds very like a definition of truth. It comes very near to saying ‘what we ought to believe’: and in that definition none of you would find any oddity. Ought we ever not to believe what it is better for us to believe? And can we then keep the notion of what is better for us, and what is true for us, permanently apart?

Pragmatism says no, and I fully agree with her. Probably you also agree, so far as the abstract statement goes, but with a suspicion that if we practically did believe everything that made for good in our own personal lives, we should be found indulging all kinds of fancies about this world’s affairs, and all kinds of sentimental superstitions about a world hereafter. Your suspicion here is undoubtedly well founded, and it is evident that something happens when you pass from the abstract to the concrete that complicates the situation.

I said just now that what is better for us to believe is true unless the belief incidentally clashes with some other vital benefit. Now in real life what vital benefits is any particular belief of ours most liable to clash with? What indeed except the vital benefits yielded by other beliefs when these prove incompatible with the first ones? In other words, the greatest enemy of any one of our truths may be the rest of our truths. Truths have once for all this desperate instinct of self-preservation and of desire to extinguish whatever contradicts them. My belief in the Absolute, based on the good it does me, must run the gauntlet of all my other beliefs. Grant that it may be true in giving me a moral holiday. Nevertheless, as I conceive it, - and let me speak now confidentially, as it were, and merely in my own private person, - it clashes with other truths of mine whose benefits I hate to give up on its account. It happens to be associated with a kind of logic of which I am the enemy, I find that it entangles me in metaphysical paradoxes that are inacceptable, etc., etc. But as I have enough trouble in life already without adding the trouble of carrying these intellectual inconsistencies, I personally just give up the Absolute. I just take my moral holidays; or else as a professional philosopher, I try to justify them by some other principle.

If I could restrict my notion of the Absolute to its bare holiday-giving value, it wouldn’t clash with my other truths. But we can not easily thus restrict our hypotheses. They carry supernumerary features, and these it is that clash so. My disbelief in the Absolute means then disbelief in those other supernumerary features, for I fully believe in the legitimacy of taking moral holidays.

You see by this what I meant when I called pragmatism a mediator and reconciler and said, borrowing the word from Papini, that she ‘unstiffens’ our theories. She has in fact no prejudices whatever, no obstructive dogmas, no rigid canons of what shall count as proof. She is completely genial. She will entertain any hypothesis, she will consider any evidence. It follows that in the religious field she is at a great advantage both over positivistic empiricism, with its anti-theological bias, and over religious rationalism, with its exclusive interest in the remote, the noble, the simple, and the abstract in the way of conception.

In short, she widens the field of search for God. Rationalism sticks to logic and the empyrean. Empiricism sticks to the external senses. Pragmatism is willing to take anything, to follow either logic or the senses and to count the humblest and most personal experiences. She will count mystical experiences if they have practical consequences. She will take a God who lives in the very dirt of private fact - if that should seem a likely place to find him.

Her only test of probable truth is what works best in the way of leading us, what fits every part of life best and combines with the collectivity of experience’s demands, nothing being omitted. If theological ideas should do this, if the notion of God, in particular, should prove to do it, how could pragmatism possibly deny God’s existence? She could see no meaning in treating as ‘not true’ a notion that was pragmatically so successful. What other kind of truth could there be, for her, than all this agreement with concrete reality?

In my last lecture I shall return again to the relations of pragmatism with religion. But you see already how democratic she is. Her manners are as various and flexible, her resources as rich and endless, and her conclusions as friendly as those of mother nature.

Some Metaphysical Problems Pragmatically Considered

I am now to make the pragmatic method more familiar by giving you some illustrations of its application to particular problems. I will begin with what is driest, and the first thing I shall take will be the problem of Substance.Every one uses the old distinction between substance and attribute, enshrined as it is in the very structure of human language, in the difference between grammatical subject and predicate. Here is a bit of blackboard crayon. Its modes, attributes, properties, accidents, or affections, - use which term you will, - are whiteness, friability, cylindrical shape, insolubility in water, etc., etc. But the bearer of these attributes is so much chalk, which thereupon is called the substance in which they inhere. So the attributes of this desk inhere in the substance ‘wood,’ those of my coat in the substance ‘wool,’ and so forth. Chalk, wood and wool, show again, in spite of their differences, common properties, and in so far forth they are themselves counted as modes of a still more primal substance, matter, the attributes of which are space-occupancy and impenetrability. Similarly our thoughts and feelings are affections or properties of our several souls, which are substances, but again not wholly in their own right, for they are modes of the still deeper substance ‘spirit.’

Now it was very early seen that all we know of the chalk is the whiteness, friability, etc., all we know of the wood is the combustibility and fibrous structure. A group of attributes is what each substance here is known-as, they form its sole cash-value for our actual experience. The substance is in every case revealed through them; if we were cut off from them we should never suspect its existence; and if God should keep sending them to us in an unchanged order, miraculously annihilating at a certain moment the substance that supported them, we never could detect the moment, for our experiences themselves would be unaltered. Nominalists accordingly adopt the opinion that substance is a spurious idea due to our inveterate human trick of turning names into things. Phenomena come in groups - the chalk-group, the wood-group, etc., - and each group gets its name. The name we then treat as in a way supporting the group of phenomena. The low thermometer to-day, for instance, is supposed to come from something called the ‘climate.’ Climate is really only the name for a certain group of days, but it is treated as if it lay behind the day, and in general we place the name, as if it were a being, behind the facts it is the name of. But the phenomenal properties of things, nominalists say, surely do not really inhere in names, and if not in names then they do not inhere in anything. They adhere, or cohere, rather, with each other, and the notion of a substance inaccessible to us, which we think accounts for such cohesion by supporting it, as cement might support pieces of mosaic, must be abandoned. The fact of the bare cohesion itself is all that the notion of the substance signifies. Behind that fact is nothing.

Scholasticism has taken the notion of substance from common sense and made it very technical and articulate. Few things would seem to have fewer pragmatic consequences for us than substances, cut off as we are from every contact with them. Yet in one case scholasticism has proved the importance of the substance-idea by treating it pragmatically. I refer to certain disputes about the mystery of the Eucharist. Substance here would appear to have momentous pragmatic value. Since the accidents of the wafer don’t change in the Lord’s supper, and yet it has become the very body of Christ, it must be that the change is in the substance solely. The breadsubstance must have been withdrawn, and the divine substance substituted miraculously without altering the immediate sensible properties. But tho these don’t alter, a tremendous difference has been made, no less a one than this, that we who take the sacrament, now feed upon the very substance of divinity. The substancenotion breaks into life, then, with tremendous effect, if once you allow that substances can separate from their accidents, and exchange these latter.

This is the only pragmatic application of the substanceidea with which I am acquainted; and it is obvious that it will only be treated seriously by those who already believe in the ‘real presence’ on independent grounds.

Material substance was criticized by Berkeley with such telling effect that his name has reverberated through all subsequent philosophy. Berkeley’s treatment of the notion of matter is so well known as to need hardly more than a mention. So far from denying the external world which we know, Berkeley corroborated it. It was the scholastic notion of a material substance unapproachable by us, behind the external world, deeper and more real than it, and needed to support it, which Berkeley maintained to be the most effective of all reducers of the external world to unreality. Abolish that substance, he said, believe that God, whom you can understand and approach, sends you the sensible world directly, and you confirm the latter and back it up by his divine authority. Berkeley’s criticism of ‘matter’ was consequently absolutely pragmatistic. Matter is known as our sensations of colour, figure, hardness and the like. They are the cash-value of the term. The difference matter makes to us by truly being is that we then get such sensations; by not being, is that we lack them. These sensations then are its sole meaning. Berkeley doesn’t deny matter, then; he simply tells us what it consists of. It is a true name for just so much in the way of sensations.

Locke, and later Hume, applied a similar pragmatic criticism to the notion of spiritual substance. I will only mention Locke’s treatment of our ‘personal identity.’ He immediately reduces this notion to its pragmatic value in terms of experience. It means, he says, so much ‘consciousness,’ namely the fact that at one moment of life we remember other moments, and feel them all as parts of one and the same personal history. Rationalism had explained this practical continuity in our life by the unity of our soul-substance. But Locke says: suppose that God should take away the consciousness, should we be any the better for having still the soul-principle? Suppose he annexed the same consciousness to different souls, should we, as we realize ourselves, be any the worse for that fact? In Locke’s day the soul was chiefly a thing to be rewarded or punished. See how Locke, discussing it from this point of view, keeps the question pragmatic:

‘Suppose,’ he says, ‘one to think himself to be the same soul that once was Nestor or Thersites. Can he think their actions his own any more than the actions of any other man that ever existed? But let him once find himself conscious of any of the actions of Nestor, he then finds himself the same person with Nestor … In this personal identity is founded all the right and justice of reward and punishment. It may be reasonable to think, no one shall be made to answer for what he knows nothing of, but shall receive his doom, his consciousness accusing or excusing. Supposing a man punished now for what he had done in another life, whereof he could be made to have no consciousness at all, what difference is there between that punishment and being created miserable?’

Our personal identity, then, consists, for Locke, solely in pragmatically definable particulars. Whether, apart from these verifiable facts, it also inheres in a spiritual principle, is a merely curious speculation. Locke, compromiser that he was, passively tolerated the belief in a substantial soul behind our consciousness. But his successor Hume, and most empirical psychologists after him, have denied the soul, save as the name for verifiable cohesions in our inner life. They redescend into the stream of experience with it, and cash it into so much smallchange value in the way of ‘ideas’ and their peculiar connexions with each other. As I said of Berkeley’s matter, the soul is good or ‘true’ for just so much, but no more.

The mention of material substance naturally suggests the doctrine of ‘materialism,’ but philosophical materialism is not necessarily knit up with belief in ‘matter,’ as a metaphysical principle. One may deny matter in that sense, as strongly as Berkeley did, one may be a phenomenalist like Huxley, and yet one may still be a materialist in the wider sense, of explaining higher phenomena by lower ones, and leaving the destinies of the world at the mercy of its blinder parts and forces. It is in this wider sense of the word that materialism is opposed to spiritualism or theism. The laws of physical nature are what run things, materialism says. The highest productions of human genius might be ciphered by one who had complete acquaintance with the facts, out of their physiological conditions, regardless whether nature be there only for our minds, as idealists contend, or not. Our minds in any case would have to record the kind of nature it is, and write it down as operating through blind laws of physics. This is the complexion of present day materialism, which may better be called naturalism. Over against it stands ‘theism,’ or what in a wide sense may be termed ‘spiritualism.’ Spiritualism says that mind not only witnesses and records things, but also runs and operates them: the world being thus guided, not by its lower, but by its higher element.

Treated as it often is, this question becomes little more than a conflict between aesthetic preferences. Matter is gross, coarse, crass, muddy; spirit is pure, elevated, noble; and since it is more consonant with the dignity of the universe to give the primacy in it to what appears superior, spirit must be affirmed as the ruling principle. To treat abstract principles as finalities, before which our intellects may come to rest in a state of admiring contemplation, is the great rationalist failing. Spiritualism, as often held, may be simply a state of admiration for one kind, and of dislike for another kind, of abstraction. I remember a worthy spiritualist professor who always referred to materialism as the ‘mud-philosophy,’ and deemed it thereby refuted.

To such spiritualism as this there is an easy answer, and Mr Spencer makes it effectively. In some well-written pages at the end of the first volume of his Psychology he shows us that a ‘matter’ so infinitely subtile, and performing motions as inconceivably quick and fine as those which modern science postulates in her explanations, has no trace of grossness left. He shows that the conception of spirit, as we mortals hitherto have framed it, is itself too gross to cover the exquisite tenuity of nature’s facts. Both terms, he says, are but symbols, pointing to that one unknowable reality in which their oppositions cease.

To an abstract objection an abstract rejoinder suffices; and so far as one’s opposition to materialism springs from one’s disdain of matter as something ‘crass,’ Mr Spencer cuts the ground from under one. Matter is indeed infinitely and incredibly refined. To any one who has ever looked on the face of a dead child or parent the mere fact that matter could have taken for a time that precious form, ought to make matter sacred ever after. It makes no difference what the principle of life may be, material or immaterial, matter at any rate cooperates, lends itself to all life’s purposes. That beloved incarnation was among matter’s possibilities.

But now, instead of resting in principles, after this stagnant intellectualist fashion, let us apply the pragmatic method to the question. What do we mean by matter? What practical difference can it make now that the world should be run by matter or by spirit? I think we find that the problem takes with this a rather different character.

And first of all I call your attention to a curious fact. It makes not a single jot of difference so far as the pastof the world goes, whether we deem it to have been the work of matter or whether we think a divine spirit was its author.

Imagine, in fact, the entire contents of the world to be once for all irrevocably given. Imagine it to end this very moment, and to have no future; and then let a theist and a materialist apply their rival explanations to its history. The theist shows how a God made it; the materialist shows, and we will suppose with equal success, how it resulted from blind physical forces. Then let the pragmatist be asked to choose between their theories. How can he apply his test if a world is already completed? Concepts for him are things to come back into experience with, things to make us look for differences. But by hypothesis there is to be no more experience and no possible differences can now be looked for. Both theories have shown all their consequences and, by the hypothesis we are adopting, these are identical. The pragmatist must consequently say that the two theories, in spite of their different-sounding names, mean exactly the same thing, and that the dispute is purely verbal. [I am supposing, of course, that the theories have been equally successful in their explanations of what is.]

For just consider the case sincerely, and say what would be the worth of a God if he were there, with his work accomplished and his world run down. He would be worth no more than just that world was worth. To that amount of result, with its mixed merits and defects, his creative power could attain but go no farther. And since there is to be no future; since the whole value and meaning of the world has been already paid in and actualized in the feelings that went with it in the passing, and now go with it in the ending; since it draws no supplemental significance (such as our real world draws) from its function of preparing something yet to come; why then, by it we take God’s measure, as it were. He is the Being who could once for all do that; and for that much we are thankful to him, but for nothing more. But now, on the contrary hypothesis, namely, that the bits of matter following their laws could make that world and do no less, should we not be just as thankful to them? Wherein should we suffer loss, then, if we dropped God as an hypothesis and made the matter alone responsible? Where would any special deadness, or crassness, come in? And how, experience being what is once for all, would God’s presence in it make it any more living or richer?

Candidly, it is impossible to give any answer to this question. The actually experienced world is supposed to be the same in its details on either hypothesis, ‘the same, for our praise or blame,’ as Browning says. It stands there indefeasibly: a gift which can’t be taken back. Calling matter the cause of it retracts no single one of the items that have made it up, nor does calling God the cause augment them. They are the God or the atoms, respectively, of just that and no other world. The God, if there, has been doing just what atoms could do - appearing in the character of atoms, so to speak - and earning such gratitude as is due to atoms, and no more. If his presence lends no different turn or issue to the performance, it surely can lend it no increase of dignity. Nor would indignity come to it were he absent, and did the atoms remain the only actors on the stage. When a play is once over, and the curtain down, you really make it no better by claiming an illustrious genius for its author, just as you make it no worse by calling him a common hack.

Thus if no future detail of experience or conduct is to be deduced from our hypothesis, the debate between materialism and theism becomes quite idle and insignificant. Matter and God in that event mean exactly the same thing - the power, namely, neither more nor less, that could make just this completed world - and the wise man is he who in such a case would turn his back on such a supererogatory discussion. Accordingly, most men instinctively, and positivists and scientists deliberately, do turn their backs on philosophical disputes from which nothing in the line of definite future consequences can be seen to follow. The verbal and empty character of philosophy is surely a reproach with which we are but too familiar. If pragmatism be true, it is a perfectly sound reproach unless the theories under fire can be shown to have alternative practical outcomes, however delicate and distant these may be. The common man and the scientist say they discover no such outcomes, and if the metaphysician can discern none either, the others certainly are in the right of it, as against him. His science is then but pompous trifling; and the endowment of a professorship for such a being would be silly.

Accordingly, in every genuine metaphysical debate some practical issue, however conjectural and remote, is involved. To realize this, revert with me to our question, and place yourselves this time in the world we live in, in the world that has a future, that is yet uncompleted whilst we speak. In this unfinished world the alternative of ‘materialism or theism?’ is intensely practical; and it is worth while for us to spend some minutes of our hour in seeing that it is so.

How, indeed, does the program differ for us, according as we consider that the facts of experience up to date are purposeless configurations of blind atoms moving according to eternal laws, or that on the other hand they are due to the providence of God? As far as the past facts go, indeed, there is no difference. Those facts are in, are bagged, are captured; and the good that’s in them is gained, be the atoms or be the God their cause. There are accordingly many materialists about us to-day who, ignoring altogether the future and practical aspects of the question, seek to eliminate the odium attaching to the word materialism, and even to eliminate the word itself, by showing that, if matter could give birth to all these gains, why then matter, functionally considered, is just as divine an entity as God, in fact coalesces with God, is what you mean by God. Cease, these persons advise us, to use either of these terms, with their out-grown opposition. Use a term free of the clerical connotations, on the one hand; of the suggestion of grossness, coarseness, ignobility, on the other. Talk of the primal mystery, of the unknowable energy, of the one and only power, instead of saying either God or matter. This is the course to which Mr Spencer urges us; and if philosophy were purely retrospective, he would thereby proclaim himself an excellent pragmatist.

But philosophy is prospective also, and, after finding what the world has been and done, and yielded, still asks the further question ‘what does the world promise?’ Give us a matter that promises success, that is bound by its laws to lead our world ever nearer to perfection, and any rational man will worship that matter as readily as Mr Spencer worships his own so-called unknowable power. It not only has made for righteousness up to date, but it will make for righteousness forever; and that is all we need. Doing practically all that a God can do, it is equivalent to God, its function is a God’s function, and in a world in which a God would be superfluous; from such a world a God could never lawfully be missed. ‘Cosmic emotion’ would here be the right name for religion.

But is the matter by which Mr Spencer’s process of cosmic evolution is carried on any such principle of never-ending perfection as this? Indeed it is not, for the future end of every cosmically evolved thing or system of things is foretold by science to be death tragedy; and Mr Spencer, in confining himself to the aesthetic and ignoring the practical side of the controversy, has really contributed nothing serious to its relief. But apply now our principle of practical results, and see what a vital significance the question of materialism or theism immediately acquires.

Theism and materialism, so indifferent when taken retrospectively, point, when we take them prospectively, to wholly different outlooks of experience. For, according to the theory of mechanical evolution, the laws of redistribution of matter and motion, though they are certainly to thank for all the good hours which our organisms have ever yielded us and for all the ideals which our minds now frame, are yet fatally certain to undo their work again, and to redissolve everything that they have once evolved. You all know the picture of the last state of the universe, which evolutionary science foresees. I can not state it better than in Mr Balfour’s words. ‘The energies of our system will decay, the glory of the sun will be dimmed, and the earth, tideless and inert, will no longer tolerate the race which has for a moment disturbed its solitude. Man will go down into the pit, and all his thoughts will perish. The uneasy consciousness which in this obscure corner has for a brief space broken the contented silence of the universe, will be at rest. Matter will know itself no longer. “Imperishable monuments” and “immortal deeds,” death itself, and love stronger than death, will be as if they had not been. Nor will anything that is, be better or worse for all that the labor, genius, devotion, and suffering of man have striven through countless ages to effect.’

That is the sting of it, that in the vast driftings of the cosmic weather, though many a jewelled shore appears, and many an enchanted cloud-bank floats away, long lingering ere it be dissolved - even as our world now lingers, for our joy - yet when these transient products are gone, nothing, absolutely nothing remains, to represent those particular qualities, those elements of preciousness which they may have enshrined. Dead and gone are they, gone utterly from the very sphere and room of being. Without an echo; without a memory; without an influence on aught that may come after, to make it care for similar ideals. This utter final wreck and tragedy is of the essence of scientific materialism as at present understood. The lower and not the higher forces are the eternal forces, or the last surviving forces within the only cycle of evolution which we can definitely see. Mr Spencer believes this as much as any one; so why should he argue with us as if we were making silly aesthetic objections to the ‘grossness’ of ‘matter and motion,’ the principles of his philosophy, when what really dismays us is the disconsolateness of its ulterior practical results?

No, the true objection to materialism is not positive but negative. It would be farcical at this day to make complaint of it for what it is, for ‘grossness.’ Grossness is what grossness does - we now know that. We make complaint of it, on the contrary, for what it is not - not a permanent warrant for our more ideal interests, not a fulfiller of our remotest hopes.

The notion of God, on the other hand, however inferior it may be in clearness to those mathematical notions so current in mechanical philosophy, has at least this practical superiority over them, that it guarantees an ideal order that shall be permanently preserved. A world with a God in it to say the last word, may indeed burn up or freeze, but we then think of him as still mindful of the old ideals and sure to bring them elsewhere to fruition; so that, where he is, tragedy is only provisional and partial, and shipwreck and dissolution not the absolutely final things. This need of an eternal moral order is one of the deepest needs of our breast. And those poets, like Dante and Wordsworth, who live on the conviction of such an order, owe to that fact the extraordinary tonic and consoling power of their verse. Here then, in these different emotional and practical appeals, in these adjustments of our concrete attitudes of hope and expectation, and all the delicate consequences which their differences entail, lie the real meanings of materialism and spiritualism - not in hair-splitting abstractions about matter’s inner essence, or about the metaphysical attributes of God. Materialism means simply the denial that the moral order is eternal, and the cutting off of ultimate hopes; spiritualism means the affirmation of an eternal moral order and the letting loose of hope. Surely here is an issue genuine enough, for any one who feels it; and, as long as men are men, it will yield matter for a serious philosophic debate.

But possibly some of you may still rally to their defence. Even whilst admitting that spiritualism and materialism make different prophecies of the world’s future, you may yourselves pooh-pooh the difference as something so infinitely remote as to mean nothing for a sane mind. The essence of a sane mind, you may say, is to take shorter views, and to feel no concern about such chimaeras as the latter end of the world. Well, I can only say that if you say this, you do injustice to human nature. Religious melancholy is not disposed of by a simple flourish of the word insanity. The absolute things, the last things, the overlapping things, are the truly philosophic concerns; all superior minds feel seriously about them, and the mind with the shortest views is simply the mind of the more shallow man.

The issues of fact at stake in the debate are of course vaguely enough conceived by us at present. But spiritualistic faith in all its forms deals with a world of promise,while materialism’s sun sets in a sea of disappointment. Remember what I said of the Absolute: it grants us moral holidays. Any religious view does this. It not only incites our more strenuous moments, but it also takes our joyous, careless, trustful moments, and it justifies them. It paints the grounds of justification vaguely enough, to be sure. The exact features of the saving future facts that our belief in God insures, will have to be ciphered out by the interminable methods of science: we can study our God only by studying his Creation. But we can enjoy our God, if we have one, in advance of all that labor. I myself believe that the evidence for God lies primarily in inner personal experiences. When they have once given you your God, his name means at least the benefit of the holiday. You remember what I said yesterday about the way in which truths clash and try to ‘down’ each other. The truth of ‘God’ has to run the gauntlet of all our other truths. It is on trial by them and they on trial by it. Our final opinion about God can be settled only after all the truths have straightened themselves out together. Let us hope that they shall find a modus vivendi!

Let me pass to a very cognate philosophic problem, the question of design in nature. God’s existence has from time immemorial been held to be proved by certain natural facts. Many facts appear as if expressly designed in view of one another. Thus the woodpecker’s bill, tongue, feet, tail, etc., fit him wondrously for a world of trees, with grubs hid in their bark to feed upon. The parts of our eye fit the laws of light to perfection, leading its rays to a sharp picture on our retina. Such mutual fitting of things diverse in origin argued design, it was held; and the designer was always treated as a man-loving deity.

The first step in these arguments was to prove that the design existed. Nature was ransacked for results obtained through separate things being co-adapted. Our eyes, for instance, originate in intra-uterine darkness, and the light originates in the sun, yet see how they fit each other. They are evidently made for each other. Vision is the end designed, light and eyes the separate means devised for its attainment.

It is strange, considering how unanimously our ancestors felt the force of this argument, to see how little it counts for since the triumph of the darwinian theory. Darwin opened our minds to the power of chancehappenings to bring forth ‘fit’ results if only they have time to add themselves together. He showed the enormous waste of nature in producing results that get destroyed because of their unfitness. He also emphasized the number of adaptations which, if designed, would argue an evil rather than a good designer. Here, all depends upon the point of view. To the grub under the bark the exquisite fitness of the woodpecker’s organism to extract him would certainly argue a diabolical designer.

Theologians have by this time stretched their minds so as to embrace the darwinian facts, and yet to interpret them as still showing divine purpose. It used to be a question of purpose against mechanism, of one or the other. It was as if one should say ‘My shoes are evidently designed to fit my feet, hence it is impossible that they should have been produced by machinery.’ We know that they are both: they are made by a machinery itself designed to fit the feet with shoes. Theology need only stretch similarly the designs of God. As the aim of a football-team is not merely to get the ball to a certain goal (if that were so, they would simply get up on some dark night and place it there), but to get it there by a fixed machinery of conditions - the game’s rules and the opposing players; so the aim of God is not merely, let us say, to make men and to save them, but rather to get this done through the sole agency of nature’s vast machinery. Without nature’s stupendous laws and counter-forces, man’s creation and perfection, we might suppose, would be too insipid achievements for God to have proposed them.

This saves the form of the design-argument at the expense of its old easy human content. The designer is no longer the old man-like deity. His designs have grown so vast as to be incomprehensible to us humans. The what of them so overwhelms us that to establish the mere that of a designer for them becomes of very little consequence in comparison. We can with difficulty comprehend the character of a cosmic mind whose purposes are fully revealed by the strange mixture of goods and evils that we find in this actual world’s particulars. Or rather we cannot by any possibility comprehend it. The mere word ‘design’ by itself has no consequences and explains nothing. It is the barrenest of principles. The old question of whether there is design is idle. The real question is what is the world, whether or not it have a designer - and that can be revealed only by the study of all nature’s particulars.

Remember that no matter what nature may have produced or may be producing, the means must necessarily have been adequate, must have been fitted to that production. The argument from fitness to design would consequently always apply, whatever were the product’s character. The recent Mont-Pelée eruption, for example, required all previous history to produce that exact combination of ruined houses, human and animal corpses, sunken ships, volcanic ashes, etc., in just that one hideous configuration of positions. France had to be a nation and colonize Martinique. Our country had to exist and send our ships there. If God aimed at just that result, the means by which the centuries bent their influences towards it, showed exquisite intelligence. And so of any state of things whatever, either in nature or in history, which we find actually realized. For the parts of things must always make some definite resultant, be it chaotic or harmonious. When we look at what has actually come, the conditions must always appear perfectly designed to ensure it. We can always say, therefore, in any conceivable world, of any conceivable character, that the whole cosmic machinery may have been designed to produce it.

Pragmatically, then, the abstract word ‘design’ is a blank cartridge. It carries no consequences, it does no execution. What design? and what designer? are the only serious questions, and the study of facts is the only way of getting even approximate answers. Meanwhile, pending the slow answer from facts, any one who insists that there is a designer and who is sure he is a divine one, gets a certain pragmatic benefit from the term - the same, in fact, which we saw that the terms God, Spirit, or the Absolute, yield us. ‘Design,’ worthless tho it be as a mere rationalistic principle set above or behind things for our admiration, becomes, if our faith concretes it into something theistic, a term of promise. Returning with it into experience, we gain a more confiding outlook on the future. If not a blind force but a seeing force runs things, we may reasonably expect better issues. This vague confidence in the future is the sole pragmatic meaning at present discernible in the terms design and designer. But if cosmic confidence is right not wrong, better not worse, that is a most important meaning. That much at least of possible ‘truth’ the terms will then have in them.

Let me take up another well-worn controversy, the freewill problem. Most persons who believe in what is called their free-will do so after the rationalistic fashion. It is a principle, a positive faculty or virtue added to man, by which his dignity is enigmatically augmented. He ought to believe it for this reason. Determinists, who deny it, who say that individual men originate nothing, but merely transmit to the future the whole push of the past cosmos of which they are so small an expression, diminish man. He is less admirable, stripped of this creative principle. I imagine that more than half of you share our instinctive belief in free-will, and that admiration of it as a principle of dignity has much to do with your fidelity.

But free-will has also been discussed pragmatically, and, strangely enough, the same pragmatic interpretation has been put upon it by both disputants. You know how large a part questions of accountability have played in ethical controversy. To hear some persons, one would suppose that all that ethics aims at is a code of merits and demerits. Thus does the old legal and theological leaven, the interest in crime and sin and punishment abide with us. ‘Who’s to blame? whom can we punish? whom will God punish?’ - these preoccupations hang like a bad dream over man’s religious history.

So both free-will and determinism have been inveighed against and called absurd, because each, in the eyes of its enemies, has seemed to prevent the ‘imputability’ of good or bad deeds to their authors. Queer antinomy this! Free-will means novelty, the grafting on to the past of something not involved therein. If our acts were predetermined, if we merely transmitted the push of the whole past, the free-willists say, how could we be praised or blamed for any thing? We should be ‘agents’ only, not ‘principals,’ and where then would be our precious imputability and responsibility?

But where would it be if we had free-will? rejoin the determinists. If a ‘free’ act be a sheer novelty, that comes not from me, the previous me, but ex nihilo, and simply tacks itself on to me, how can I, the previous I, be responsible? How can I have any permanent characterthat will stand still long enough for praise or blame to be awarded? The chaplet of my days tumbles into a cast of disconnected beads as soon as the thread of inner necessity is drawn out by the preposterous indeterminist doctrine. Messrs. Fullerton and McTaggart have recently laid about them doughtily with this argument.

It may be good ad hominem, but otherwise it is pitiful. For I ask you, quite apart from other reasons, whether any man, woman or child, with a sense for realities, ought not to be ashamed to plead such principles as either dignity or imputability. Instinct and utility between them can safely be trusted to carry on the social business of punishment and praise. If a man does good acts we shall praise him, if he does bad acts we shall punish him, - anyhow, and quite apart from theories as to whether the acts result from what was previous in him or are novelties in a strict sense. To make our human ethics revolve about the question of ‘merit’ is a piteous unreality - God alone can know our merits, if we have any. The real ground for supposing free-will is indeed pragmatic, but it has nothing to do with this contemptible right to punish which has made such a noise in past discussions of the subject.

Free-will pragmatically means novelties in the world, the right to expect that in its deepest elements as well as in its surface phenomena, the future may not identically repeat and imitate the past. That imitation en masse is there, who can deny? The general ‘uniformity of nature’ is presupposed by every lesser law. But nature may be only approximately uniform; and persons in whom knowledge of the world’s past has bred pessimism (or doubts as to the world’s good character, which become certainties if that character be supposed eternally fixed) may naturally welcome free-will as a melioristic doctrine. It holds up improvement as at least possible; whereas determinism assures us that our whole notion of possibility is born of human ignorance, and that necessity and impossibility between them rule the destinies of the world.

Free-will is thus a general cosmological theory of promise, just like the Absolute, God, Spirit or Design. Taken abstractly, no one of these terms has any inner content, none of them gives us any picture, and no one of them would retain the least pragmatic value in a world whose character was obviously perfect from the start. Elation at mere existence, pure cosmic emotion and delight, would, it seems to me, quench all interest in those speculations, if the world were nothing but a lubberland of happiness already. Our interest in religious metaphysics arises in the fact that our empirical future feels to us unsafe, and needs some higher guarantee. If the past and present were purely good, who could wish that the future might possibly not resemble them? Who could desire free-will? Who would not say, with Huxley, ‘let me be wound up every day like a watch, to go right fatally, and I ask no better freedom.’ ‘Freedom’ in a world already perfect could only mean freedom to be worse, and who could be so insane as to wish that? To be necessarily what it is, to be impossibly aught else, would put the last touch of perfection upon optimism’s universe. Surely the only possibility that one can rationally claim is the possibility that things may be better. That possibility, I need hardly say, is one that, as the actual world goes, we have ample grounds for desiderating.

Free-will thus has no meaning unless it be a doctrine of relief. As such, it takes its place with other religious doctrines. Between them, they build up the old wastes and repair the former desolations. Our spirit, shut within this courtyard of sense-experience, is always saying to the intellect upon the tower: ‘Watchman, tell us of the night, if it aught of promise bear,’ and the intellect gives it then these terms of promise.

Other than this practical significance, the words God, free-will, design, etc., have none. Yet dark tho they be in themselves, or intellectualistically taken, when we bear them into life’s thicket with us the darkness there grows light about us. If you stop, in dealing with such words, with their definition, thinking that to be an intellectual finality, where are you? Stupidly staring at a pretentious sham! ‘Deus est Ens, a se, extra et supra omne genus, necessarium, unum, infinite perfectum, simplex, immutabile, immensum, aeternum, intelligens,’ etc., - wherein is such a definition really instructive? It means less than nothing, in its pompous robe of adjectives. Pragmatism alone can read a positive meaning into it, and for that she turns her back upon the intellectualist point of view altogether. ‘God’s in his heaven; all’s right with the world!’ - That’s the real heart of your theology, and for that you need no rationalist definitions.

Why shouldn’t all of us, rationalists as well as pragmatists, confess this? Pragmatism, so far from keeping her eyes bent on the immediate practical foreground, as she is accused of doing, dwells just as much upon the world’s remotest perspectives.

See then how all these ultimate questions turn, as it were, upon their hinges; and from looking backwards upon principles, upon an erkenntnisstheoretische Ich [‘epistemological Self’], a God, a Kausalitätsprinzip [‘principle of causality’], a Design, a Free-will, taken in themselves, as something august and exalted above facts, - see, I say, how pragmatism shifts the emphasis and looks forward into facts themselves. The really vital question for us all is, What is this world going to be? What is life eventually to make of itself? The centre of gravity of philosophy must therefore alter its place. The earth of things, long thrown into shadow by the glories of the upper ether, must resume its rights. To shift the emphasis in this way means that philosophic questions will fall to be treated by minds of a less abstractionist type than heretofore, minds more scientific and individualistic in their tone yet not irreligious either. It will be an alteration in ‘the seat of authority’ that reminds one almost of the protestant reformation. And as, to papal minds, protestantism has often seemed a mere mess of anarchy and confusion, such, no doubt, will pragmatism often seem to ultrarationalist minds in philosophy. It will seem so much sheer trash, philosophically. But life wags on, all the same, and compasses its ends, in protestant countries. I venture to think that philosophic protestantism will compass a not dissimilar prosperity.

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

论内心生活

（英汉双语）

［德］托马斯·厄·肯培　著

［英］利奥·雪莉－普赖斯　英译

孙平华　曲　欣　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

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论内心生活：英汉对照／（德）肯培著；孙平华，曲欣译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2012.9

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3331-5

Ⅰ．①论…　Ⅱ．①肯… ②孙…③曲…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物 ②基督教—宗教文化　Ⅳ．①H319.4:B

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2012）第104208号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2012-7264号）

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This translation first published in The Imitation of Christ

in Penguin Classics 1952

This extract first published in Penguin Books 2004

Translation copyright 1952 by Leo Sherley-Price

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观　念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

目　录

观　念——《伟大的思想》代序

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读

第一卷　精神生活的劝言

第二卷　内心生活的劝言

第三卷　论内心安慰

Book One: Counsels on the Spiritual Life

Book Two: Counsels on the Inner Life

Book Three: On Inward Consolation

返回总目录

译者导读

这是一本关于信心与毅力、绝望与拯救的灵修名篇，凝聚了圣徒们历经艰辛、不畏挫折的属灵智慧，旨在指导心怀基督的信徒们不断完善自身修为及内心体验。

本书作者托马斯·厄·肯培是中世纪著名哲学家，推崇信心要与上帝“神秘的合一”，才能达到重生和新生。该书在基督教教内流传甚广，几乎成为必读的“圣书”之一。书中不仅涉及神学知识，还引领跟随基督的信徒们敬拜主、祈求主。在效法基督灵修生活的过程中，作者倡导谦卑地认识自我，内心纯洁简单地靠近主，不要轻信人言，却应谨慎从容地遵照神的旨意深思熟虑。智慧莫大于行事不草率，处事不固执。在研读圣经中，追求圣灵的益处。遇到难以理解的地方，不要急于研究讨论，可暂时搁置，顺其自然。如果你渴望获益更多，就应谦卑、纯一和信服它，不要自视博学。要在宁静中聆听圣人的话，乐意接受先贤的教导，因为他们的话都出于心中美好的缘由。

它教导人们若要得享心中真正的宁静，必须克制情欲而非放纵享乐。沉溺于世俗情欲的人，心中难存宁静，只有虔诚灵性的人才能永享内心安乐。不要自视比他人都强，更不要炫耀你的财富，或是倚仗朋友的财势自命不凡，而应赞赏上帝的恩典。主赐予你万物和他自己。不要因身材优美、体格健壮而自傲，极小的疾病就能打倒你，甚至摧毁你；不要因天赋聪颖、能力非凡而自视清高，那样就会冒犯主，因为这一切都是上帝赐予你的。我们应当审视自己，而不要计较他人过往的行为。论断他人，不但徒劳无获，而且常常出错，很容易犯罪。但如果我们时常反省自己，就能获益匪浅。我们判断事物常受个人情感的左右，会因为个人目的而很难正确作出判断。倘若我们能以上帝为自己意向的目标，我们就不至于因尘世思想的矛盾而轻易被迷惑。

本书中基督的平安、喜乐、安慰与丰富，如同早春之花雨，滋润着信徒们的心田。希望“内心生活”的灵性结晶让每一位读者在爱与荣光中体验并获得与神相谐的智慧。

第一卷　精神生活的劝言

第一章　论效法基督

主说过：“跟从我的，就不在黑暗里走。”[1]

基督用这些话劝导我们，如果渴望摒弃内心的盲目，追求真正的启迪和自由，就跟随他的脚步，像他一样生活。让耶稣基督[2]的生活指引我们思考。

耶稣的教导超越了一切圣人，无论谁拥有了圣灵，都能发现隐秘的天赐之物。尽管许多人经常听到福音，却往往未受其感召，因为他们缺少基督的圣灵。若要理解并领略基督话语的乐趣就必须倾注一生跟随主。

如果你缺少谦卑的态度，就会触怒三位一体的上帝，那再学识渊博，侃侃而谈其中的道理，对你又有什么意义呢？高谈阔论不能使人正直或圣洁，有道德的生活才使他对于上帝难能可贵。我宁愿具有痛悔之心，而不知痛悔的定义。如果没有上帝的恩典和慈爱，即使你能默诵全本《圣经》和所有哲人的教诲，这一切对你又有什么用处呢？除了爱主，侍奉主以外，“虚空的虚空，凡事都是虚空”。[3]这就是至高的智慧——无视凡世的事物，每日都更接近天国。

追逐尘世的荣耀、人间的地位尽是徒劳；追求肉身的享乐、现世的回报不过枉然；相对永恒的来生，此生的长度不足挂齿；比之永远的乐园，此生的欢愉只是虚空；贪爱转瞬即逝的事物，而不追求永恒快乐的所在也是虚空。

应时刻提醒自己，“眼看，看不饱；耳听，听不足”。[4]莫分心于有形之物，尽力爱怜无形之物。受制于本能的人终将腐化纯洁的内心，失去上帝的恩典。

第二章　论谦卑

人都有求知的本能，但如不敬畏上帝，知识本身又有什么用呢？对主而言，侍奉他的谦逊农夫胜过高傲自大通晓天文地理的知识分子，因为他忽略了探究自己的心灵。真正了解自己的人必定能认识自己的卑微，而不是陶醉于别人的溢美之辞。如果没有爱，纵使我博古通今，无一不知，也不能在上帝审判我时助我一臂之力。

要节制过度的求知欲望，因为那会带来不安和欺骗。有学问的人总是期望展现自己的才华，渴望他人赞赏自己的智慧。但有学问对内心仅有很少的甚至是毫无益处。其实，如果一个人完全忙于任何事物，他都不是一个聪敏的人，除非是忙于那些能够进一步救助自己的事情。长篇大论并不能充实心灵，只有道德的生活才能令你焕然一新，内心纯洁才会对主信心倍增。

你了解得越详尽完备，所受的审判就越严厉，除非你生活得更崇高圣洁。所以，不要因你有一技之长或博闻多识而唯我独尊，而应该尊重你所了解的知识。如果你看起来博学多才见多识广，也不要忘记仍有许多领域你孤陋寡闻。因此，莫沾沾自喜，要承认无知。为何当许多人遵行《圣经》律法比你更明智完美时，你要凌驾于他人之上呢？倘若你渴望在了解或学习中受益匪浅，就要乐于默默无闻，微不足道。

正确认识自我，谦卑评价自我是最高深珍贵的教训。自视若无，却总是称赞他人是大智大德。你若见到他人公然作恶，或心怀鬼胎，不要高看自己比他好，因为你不知自己能这样蒙受神恩到多久。我们都是脆弱的人；一切事物比自己都更坚强。

第三章　论教导真理

受真理教导的人，不因其表面的符号言语，却因真理本身，而感到无比幸福。我们常常为自身的揣测和观察所误导，而不能有所发现。当我们最终受到评判并不是依据这类知识时，对那些深奥难解事情的冗长辩论又有何价值呢？最无知莫过于忽视有益且重要的事，却刻意关注古怪而有害的事。我们真是“有眼却不能看”[5]：“属”和“种”一类的事物与我们有什么关系呢？

受教于永生之道的人要从无常和易变中被救出来。万物之源为我主，世界的一切皆源自他之名，他是一切的创造者，我们都受教于此。若无我主，我们就不能正确领悟或判别任何事物。他是万物的本源，他指明了万物的本质，他使万物被看到，他给予了坚定的灵魂，他是我主。

噢，真理的主啊，请在永恒的爱中将我与你合而为一。我时常厌倦自己的所读所闻。我所奢望追求的仅仅是归于主。因此，所有的老师请保持沉默吧，所有的被造之物都在你面前静止吧；噢，主啊，只有你的声音。

人的内心越纯洁简单地靠近主，越能多角度深入地了解事物，因为他沐浴着上天的智慧之光。纯净简单稳重的人不会因为工作忙碌而心烦意乱，他因为上帝的荣光而奋斗，不受自我需求所束缚。有什么比内心不安分的激情更能妨碍你的呢？善良且遵从上帝意志的人对于事情的轻重已了然于胸，无论身处何种情形，都不会使自己限于危机四伏的诱惑之中，而是睿智判断，谦卑应对。还有比战胜自己更激烈的斗争吗？这应该是我们奋斗的重心——战胜自我，每天都变得更强大，神圣地进步。

现世一切的完满都伴随着某种缺憾，所有的知识亦无完美无瑕。自视卑微比钻研学问更容易靠近上帝。然而求知本身，抑或简单的是非判断并无过错，因为认真学习是上帝认可的好事；但我主更注重天性善心，圣洁生活。但由于许多人宁可努力追求知识，忽视圣洁的生活，所以他们经常误入歧途，虚度年华，一无所得。我们若能像研究学问那样据理力争，摒除邪恶，播撒德行，我们中间就不会有那么多罪恶诋毁，涣散放纵。在审判之时，不会问我们已经得知什么，而是我们的所作所为；不会看我们如何口若悬河，而是如何圣洁地生活过。请告诉我，那些当时的博学之士现在又身在何处呢？别人占有他们的位置，却对他们毫无挂念。他们一息尚存时，可谓举足轻重，但此刻已无人问津。

啊，现世的荣华转瞬即逝！只有这些人的生活如同他们的学问那样令人景仰，那些研究和阅读才能得善果。但现世又有多少人徒劳追求学问，忽视了服侍我主。因为他们只愿伟大而放弃谦卑，迷失在自己的幻想中。真正的伟人具有伟大的爱。真正的伟人内心谦卑，不慕名利。真正的智者将尘世万物视如粪土，只为归向基督。真正的学者因神的旨意而放弃自我的意愿。

第四章　论慎行

我们不该轻信人言，却应谨慎从容地遵照神的旨意深思熟虑。唉，这是人性的弱点，常评说别人的短处，却不发现他人的长处。但完人从不轻信他听到的每个故事，因为知道人类的弱点是趋于恶，而且易于在言语上陷于过失。

智慧莫大于行事不草率，处事不固执。耳食之言不应奔走相告。向睿智善良比你优秀的人虚心取经，而不要刚愎自用。有德行的生活遵从上帝，使人睿智且阅历丰富。越自视低微，遵从上帝，越睿达明智，内心平和。

第五章　论读圣经

在圣经中我们所寻求的是真理，并非文章。圣经都是神所默示而发扬的，我们在读经时应与圣灵同在。因此，我们在圣经中当追求圣灵的益处，而非美丽的语言。应诵读那些浅显易懂的书，也应阅读那些高深奥秘的卷册。不要计较作者的权威或学问的水平，却应以热爱真理的心吸引你去读它。不要追问是谁的言论，只要注意所说的言语。

人类终将消失，但神的圣言将长存永久。

上帝用不同的方式与我们对话，却不偏待人。有时我们读圣经，也受到好奇心的搅扰。遇到难以理解的地方，不要急于研究讨论，可暂时搁置，顺其自然。如果你渴望受益匪浅，就应以谦卑、纯一和信服的心去读，不要自视博学。要在宁静中聆听圣人的话，乐意接受先贤的教导，因为他们的话都言之有理。

第六章　论控制欲望

无论何时放纵自己的欲望，内心立刻就会感到不安。骄傲贪婪的人绝不会得到安息。贫穷谦卑的人才常享安宁。人若还未完全摒弃自我，就容易被极微小的事物所诱惑，且无法抵制诱惑。精神脆弱、沉迷享乐的人无法摆脱贪恋尘世的欲望。因此当他尝试脱离这些欲望时，他就感觉非常痛苦；若遭到反对就勃然大怒。但假若他随心所欲，又立刻因受良心责备，惶惶不安，因为期望从情欲的生活中寻求平静，只是徒劳无功。想要得到心中真正的宁静，必须克制情欲而非放纵享乐。沉溺于世俗情欲的人，心中难存宁静，只有虔诚灵性的人才能永享内心安乐。

第七章　论避免妄想高傲

信靠人类或被造之物是非常愚蠢的。出于对耶稣的爱而去服侍他人，现实中过着贫苦的生活，不要引以为耻。不要自以为是，而要完全相信主。尽己所能，上帝必保守你美好的意愿。不要依赖你自己的知识，或是轻信任何有生命之物的智慧，而应遵从上帝的恩典，他帮助谦卑的人，却让高傲的人懂得谦卑。

不要炫耀你的财富，或是倚仗朋友的财势自命不凡，而应赞赏上帝的恩典。主赐予你万物和他自己。不要因为你身材优美、体格健壮而自傲，极小的疾病就能打倒你，甚至摧毁你。不要以为自己天赋聪颖、能力非凡而自视清高，那样就会冒犯主，因为这一切都是上帝赐予你的。

不要自视比他人都强，至少在上帝眼中你表现得更糟，只有主了解人的心。不要为自己的善行而居功自傲，主的评价不同于人；取悦于人的行为常常触怒我主。假若你有何优点，要记住他人比你更优秀；所以要保持谦卑。居众人之下对你并无损害，但你若自命不凡，只会事与愿违。只有谦卑的人常享心中的宁静，但骄傲的心却充满傲慢与嫉妒。

……

第十章　论避免多言

尽可能避免在公众场合的喧哗，谈论世俗琐事，即使出于善意，也不免惹祸上身，因为我们极易因尘世的虚荣而腐化迷惑。我经常后悔没保持沉默，恨不得未曾与人在一起。我们为什么总那样乐于滔滔不绝，喋喋不休，甚至当我们良心不安时仍不停止呢？我们乐于交谈的原因是想从谈话中寻求慰藉，放松紧张的大脑。并且我们乐于谈论自己喜好的或厌恶的东西。但可惜这些交谈徒劳无功，表面的安慰常常让我们失去了上帝赐予的平和内心。

我们应该儆醒祷告，否则便虚度光阴。假若遇到合适的说话时机，可以谈论有价值的问题。习惯不良且忽视灵性进步是我们放纵自己多言的主要缘由。但若有一些志同道合的人聚集在上帝面前，谈论属灵的事，那对于我们的灵性进步具有极大的推进力量。

第十一章　论内心平和及灵性进步

我们如果不因别人的言行而忙碌，并且不理会与我们无干的事，就可享受极大的平和。人如果总是关注他人的事情，并且总是寻求机会闲逛，而很少省察自己，他怎会享受到长久的平和？心意纯一的人受到祝福，因为他们要享受极大的平和。

为什么有些圣人是那样的完全且善于沉思？因为他们都曾不屈不挠地克服自己对世俗事务的欲望，因而才能无拘无束、全神贯注地依附上帝。但我们深受欲念的牵制，贪恋过往的世俗之事。我们很少彻底克服一个错误，内心也没有热切追求进步的愿望，所以我们总是冷漠没有太大热情。

我们若全身心关注自己的内心，不受外界事务所累，我们就能够品味到圣灵之美和神圣的沉思经历。事实上，最大的阻碍在于我们没有摆脱情欲的束缚，也没有遵循圣人的完善自我的道路。我们一遇到小麻烦，就一蹶不振，寻求人间的抚慰。

如果我们像顽强的勇士守卫住战场，就不会失去主的帮助。因为主总是援助那些顽强作战，信赖他恩典的人。倘若我们认为只要表面遵守宗教仪式，宗教生活就能进步，那么我们的信仰即面临绝境了。让我们剪草除根，脱离情欲的束缚，我们就会得到灵魂的安息。

如果我们每年根除一个错误，我们很快就应该成为完善的人。但我们常常面临相反的境遇，起初皈依比多年之后更善良，更纯洁。我们的热情与德行本应与日俱增，但如今，只要能保存当初一部分的热情，就很不容易了。要是我们起初就痛下决心，便能轻而易举、身心愉悦地完成任何事。

摒弃旧习固然不易，克服自我的意愿就更困难重重。但你若不能战胜微小容易的事，又如何在大事上获得成功？起初就要克制自己的邪恶趋势，摒除不良习惯，否则他们渐渐就会使你陷于更大的困境。假若你能了解自己的内心有多平和，为别人带来多大的喜悦，你就会更关注灵性的进步。

第十二章　论逆境的价值

我们时常遭遇苦难与逆境是有好处的，因为患难使人警醒反思，提醒自己在世犹如逃难，不应对世上的事物产生依赖的情绪。有人时常反对我们，也是好事，即使我们出于善意却仍受人诋毁误会。这些会帮助我们学会谦卑，克服虚荣，使我们更便于寻求上帝作为我们内心的见证，尽管表面上受人歧视误解。

因此，人应当全心全意信赖上帝，就不必再向他人寻求慰藉。当一个有德行的人深受苦难、诱惑，或恶念的困扰时，他就应比任何时刻都清醒，意识到他需要上帝，如果没有主，他就无法行善。随后再为所受的苦楚而感伤、悲痛，为其不幸而诚心祷告。他厌倦尘世，渴望死后解脱，与上帝同在。他确信此世并无完全的平安，抑或完美的平和。

第十三章　论抵制诱惑

我们在尘世生活的每一天都要忍受诱惑，正如《约伯记》中说：“人生在世岂无争战。”因此我们每个人都应谨防诱惑，谨慎祷告，否则魔鬼就要趁虚而入；因为魔鬼从不休息，遍地游荡寻找可吞吃的人。没有人能够完全圣洁，免受诱惑，任何人都不能幸免。

尽管诱惑往往是沉重的负担，却令我们受益匪浅，诱惑使人谦卑、洁净，指引我们成长。所有圣人都曾遭受考验，历经诱惑，并获益良多；但没能抵制诱惑的人逐渐堕落，一败涂地。没有任何高贵的秩序或是僻静的地方可以免遭苦难和诱惑。

没有一个生活在世上的人能够完全远离诱惑，因为人性本恶，诱惑便与生俱来。当一个考验或诱惑即将离去，另一个就接踵而至；总该磨炼自己，因为人类早已失去了原初的幸福恩典。许多人尝试逃离诱惑，结果却愈陷愈深。单靠逃避，我们是无法战胜诱惑的，唯有忍耐和真正的谦卑才能使我们比敌人更加强大。

只避免表面恶行，却不根除自身的恶根，效果甚微。事实上，诱惑不久后将重新而至，他会发觉自己的情况更加糟糕。慢慢依靠上帝的帮助，耐心忍受，远胜于自己的盲目强求。在诱惑中，要常请人指导，对于正遭受诱惑的人切莫责备，应予以安慰，正如你身处诱惑时希望人家对待你那样。

邪恶的诱惑都起源于缺少恒心和不信赖上帝。就像一艘无舵的船在波涛中来回颠簸，同样，一个马虎大意背离目标的人易受多方诱惑。火以炼铁，诱惑以炼义人。我们常常不知道自己能做什么，但诱惑能使人流露本性。当我们起初面对诱惑时，需要特别提醒自己谨慎行事，因为那个时候假如我们不让它闯进心门，在它初次敲门的瞬间，就将它拒之门外，这样就更容易击退敌人。诗人奥维德（Ovid）说过：“病要诊得早，事后弥补必定为时已晚。”起初心中只有一个邪念，然后又加以想象，继而产生愉悦的感觉，紧接着就是作恶的倾向，最终就顺从于行动了。可以说，敌人步步为营，占领了我们的心，都是因为我们没有在最开始就坚持抵制。久久不加抵抗，我们就越发软弱，敌人却越发强大。

有的人在皈依主的初始就遇到强烈的诱惑，有的人在人生临近结束时才遇到。更有些人几乎一生都在遭受试探，还有的人只是受到轻微的诱惑。这是主凭借着他的智慧和公义，衡量个人的情形，为他所选择救赎的人们而安排的。

因此，我们遭受诱惑时不应心灰意懒，相反，应更加热忱地祈祷，求上帝赐予我们力量，帮助我们胜过一切的患难。就像圣保罗所说：“在受试探的时候，总要给你们开一条出路，叫你们能忍受得住。”[6]因此，当我们面对试探和患难时，让我们谦卑地俯伏在神的手下，因为主将拯救提升这些谦卑的人。在诱惑和艰难中，一个人的品格就可以得到检验；高尚的品德得以保存，善良的品性得以证明。假如我们未遇到麻烦，只是虔诚热忱，这并无大碍，但我们若在经历痛苦时耐心忍受，那就充分表明他在上帝的恩典中大有长进。有的人在遭受大诱惑时得蒙保守，却在日常小事上软弱失败，这是让他们低调，不要盲目信赖自己，而要意识到自己的脆弱。

第十四章　论切勿草率行事

要审视自己，而不要计较他人过往的行为。论断他人，不但徒劳无获，而且常常出错，很容易犯罪。但如果我们时常反省自己，就能获益匪浅。我们判断事物常受个人情感的左右，会因为个人的目的而很难正确作出判断。倘若我们能以上帝为自己意向的目标，我们就不至于因尘世思想的矛盾而轻易被迷惑。

我们时常受制于内心的冲动和外界的环境，无法自拔。而许多人纵使自己毫无意识，却按照自己的喜好行事。当事情进展如他们所愿时，他们就心境平和，但是一旦稍有不如意，他们就立刻困惑动摇了。同样，观点的差异只会引起朋友邻里间，甚至虔诚的信徒间的争议。

旧习惯很难破除，没有人情愿放弃自己的观点，而甘心听从别人指教；但是倘若你太过信赖自己的理性和勤奋，甚至胜过信赖上帝，那么你就不能得到上帝的智慧。因为上帝要人们完全顺服于他，只有对上帝热忱的爱才能帮助我们超越自己。

第十五章　论因爱而行动

任何目的或是对任何人的情感都不应该成为作恶的借口。但是对于需要帮助的人，有时需要放下手边的好事，从事另一件事。因为这样的选择并不是放弃一件善事，而是把它变为更好的事。若没有爱，外表的行为都将无益，但无论何时若怀有仁爱之心，不在乎世俗的眼光，即使这份爱再微乎其微，也能硕果累累。因为上帝关注人们心中的爱有多深，而不是他的成就有多高。

越有爱心的人，做的事情越多。越能在一件事上完成得好的人，做事越多。比起自己的意愿，更看重他人幸福的人必能行事完满。有些事表面上似乎出于仁爱，但实际上却是出于世俗肉欲，其中搀杂着本能、自我意愿、渴望回报以及自私自利的动机，我们不能完全忽略自我的意愿。

具有真正和完全仁爱之心的人不图私利，只是希望上帝的荣耀赐予一切事物。他毫无嫉妒之心，不贪慕个人的利益，他也不追求自己的享乐，却渴望在上帝的恩典中得享幸福。他将任何善事都完全归功于上帝，而不是自己，因为万物都源自上帝，所有的圣徒都因为上帝而享有圆满和平静。真爱的火光若在心中闪现，他就会确信世俗的一切都是一场虚空。

第十六章　论包容他人的过错

无论是自己还是他人，若存在非一己之力所能改变的弱点，就要耐心忍受，直到上帝颁布旨意。想想看，这些弱点或许对你有更大的益处，因为这是在锻炼你的耐心，如果没有这些考验，我们一切的善行就显不出伟大的价值来了。无论你何时面对这些阻碍，应向上帝祈祷，助你一臂之力，令你欣然接受。

若有人经过一两次警告仍不肯改过，就不要与其争辩，将这一切交由上帝处理，希望主的旨意得以成就，他的名字照耀着他所有的仆人；因为主知道如何化恶为善。要尽力耐心容忍别人的短处和弱点，因为自己也有很多过失，同样需要别人的容忍。如果你自己都不能按照自己的愿望塑造自己，又怎么能期望他人完全照着你的意思行事呢？我们总是责备他人不完美，而自己的错误我们却不改。

我们责怪他人时义正言辞，却不愿自我纠正。我们责难他人滥用自由，但我们自己却不愿受到束缚。我们要求他人遵守法律，但我们自己却不愿受法律的制约。因此可以看出，我们很少将自己与别人以同样的标准来衡量。假若所有人都是完人，我们还有什么需要因上帝的缘故而包容他人呢？

但是现在上帝是这样安排的，让我们可以为彼此承担重任。因为人无完人，所有人都有自己的责任，对自己不满足，也不够明智；因此，我们必须彼此扶持，互相安慰，互相帮助，互相教导，彼此共勉。患难时方显真正的价值；困苦没有打垮他，却彰显了他的真性情。

……

第二十三章　对死亡的沉思

你人生的日子很快就会过去：因此，要想清楚你的处境。今天一个人还在这儿；明天他就将离去。一个人若不在人们的视线中，他很快就会被人们所忘却。人的心是多么愚蠢刚硬，只顾眼下，却不想未来！应当规划好所有的思想和行为，把今天当作你离开的日子。倘若你无愧于心，就不会恐惧死亡。远离罪恶胜于逃避死亡。倘若你今天去世都毫无准备，又怎能规划好明天？明天依然未知，你怎能妄下定论？

如果我们不曾自省改过，长寿对我们而言有何益呢？这样，长寿往往会增加我们的罪恶，而不是善行！

向上帝祈祷我们曾经有过一天活着却没有增加罪恶。许多人总是计算着皈依的时日，但他们却很少改过。假如死亡令人恐惧，那么长寿就更加危险了。时常提醒自己死亡时刻的人有福了。倘若你曾看见一个人死去，请不要忘记，你终将走上与他同样的路。

每天早上都要提醒自己，在黄昏之前可能离开人世；晚上也不要以为自己必定会再活一天。时刻准备着，才不至于让死亡在你毫无准备的情况下带走你。许多人都是突然间毫无征兆地离开了；因为在我们不知道的时候，人子就会到来。当你的最后时刻到来时，你就会对自己过去的一生拥有完全不同的态度，深深悔恨自己曾经那样漫不经心。

一个人若能在此时就了解他在死时所想达到的标准，他该是多么幸福明智的一个人啊。这些都将保证我们能够幸福终老；对世俗不屑一顾，热切渴望内心圣洁，乐于遵守法纪，勤于忏悔，时刻顺服上帝。当你健康的时候，你可以行诸多善事，但是当你病情严重时，能做的事就极其有限了！遭受疾病能改过行善的人不多，正如常常在外放荡的人少有能成为圣洁的人。不要依赖于亲朋好友，也不要拖延救赎灵魂的时机，因为人们很快就会忘记你，这个速度绝对出乎你的意料。最好及时弥补，在此生多积善行，而不要依靠别人的帮助。你如果不关心你自己的灵魂，以后还会有谁能关怀你呢？此刻的时间是极其宝贵的；此刻就是接受一切的日子；此刻就是实现拯救的时刻。但是很可惜，你虚度了让自己求得永生的大好光阴。到那时，你将渴望拥有一天，甚至是一小时的工夫得以忏悔，可是谁又能知道你能否如愿以偿呢？亲爱的朋友，你若对死亡常存畏惧之心，你就可以令自己脱离极大的危险和恐惧了。有生之年多努力，到面临死亡时，你就不需要恐惧了，而且能得到愉悦。现在就要学习如何面对世上的死亡，然后才能过着与基督同在的生活。现在学习将一切事物看的淡薄，那时你就可以自由地走向基督。现在依靠忏悔战胜你的肉欲，那时你就能得到救赎的希望。

愚笨的人哪，你连生命里多加一天都不能保证，为什么还奢望长命百岁呢？多少人受了这样的迷惑，但是在毫不知情的情况下就被死亡掠走。你经常可以听见这样的消息，某人遭暗杀，某人溺水而死，又一个人从高处跌下，摔断颈椎，另一个人正在进食时猝死，还有人在玩游戏时死去。有人死于火，有人死于刀，又有人死于恶疾，还有人为盗贼所害。这样说来，死是所有人的结局，人生转瞬即逝，犹如泡影。

你去世后，还有谁想念你？又有谁为你祷告呢？亲爱的朋友，现在就行动，尽己所能，努力去做，因为你不知道你将何时离世，也不知道你死后的遭遇如何！现在还有时间，赶快为你自己永生积聚不朽的财富吧。除了灵魂的救赎，除了上帝的事，不要关注任何其他的事。现在就与上帝的圣徒们交友，效法他们的行动，到了生命结束时，他们就会迎接你进入永生的家园。

让你自己成为此世的过路人，世上的一切事物都与你毫无关联。使自己的内心完全超脱一切，仰望着上帝，因为你在此生并无留恋之所。每日都向上帝祷告，去世时你的灵魂才会幸福地走向主。

……

————————————————————

[1] 《新约·约翰福音》第8章第12节。——译者注

[2] 据《圣经》记载，耶稣生活在2000年以前的犹太国，由童贞女马利亚所生，后来被罗马人钉死在十字架上，三天后从死里复活。有关耶稣的生平和传说对西方文化的发展产生了很大影响。圣诞节是庆祝耶稣诞生的节日，复活节是纪念耶稣死而复生的节日。——译者注

[3] 《旧约·传道书》第1章第2节。——译者注

[4] 《旧约·传道书》第1章第8节。——译者注

[5] 《旧约·传道书》第115章第5节。——译者注

[6] 《新约·哥林多前书》第10章第13节。——译者注

第二卷　内心生活的劝言

第一章　论内心生活

主说：“神的国就在你们心里。”[1]你的心要从属于主，舍弃这痛苦的世界，你的灵魂必得享安宁。要懂得忽略外面的事，专心致志于修炼内心，你才会觉得主的王国走进了你的心。因为神的王国在圣灵中充满了平安和喜乐，并且与邪恶的人无关。如果你的心里已经为基督准备好合适的位置，他就将走进来为你提供慰藉。基督的一切荣耀和美好都源于内心，所以主也乐于常驻内心。主时常走进人的内心，带去甜蜜的话语、宽慰、平安及超乎寻常的友情。

信奉上帝的灵魂，请准备好你的内心迎接神圣的配偶吧！他将走向你，留在你心间。因为他曾说过：“人若爱我，就必遵守我的道；我们要到他那里去，与他同住。”[2]所以，你要欢迎基督走进你的内心，并且要拒绝一切其他的闯入者。你若拥有了基督，就会富足充实，心满意足。他无论在何事上都会忠诚地让你依靠，因此你不再需要依靠他人。人易改变，也易令你失望，但是基督却永恒不变，坚定地守候你，直到终点。

不要完全相信或依赖软弱而且终将离去的世人，无论他对我们多么有益，多么亲近，也不要因为他时而反对你，就过分忧愁。今天与你同盟的人，明天可能就变成你的仇敌；人易变，犹如气候变化万千。只能完全仰赖上帝；单单崇拜热爱我们的主。他会保护你，为你的周全安置一切。无论在哪里，你只是一个没有居所的客旅。除非你的内心属于基督，否则你将永远无法享有安宁。

这里并非你的栖身之所，为什么还到处观望呢？你真正的家应该是在天堂，因此不要忘记，地上的万物转瞬即逝。一切终将消逝，也包括你自己。请不要迷恋世上的一切，不然你可能受其束缚随之灭亡。但愿你仰望至高之处，你的祷告也随之传向基督。如果你不能思考上天的安排，就该沉浸在基督的爱中，欣然体会他神圣的创伤。因为你若虔诚地追思主的创伤和那宝贵的血痕，在痛苦中你也能体会极大的安慰，你将无视他人的怠慢，甚至诋毁的话语，你也能轻易承受。

基督在世时也曾遭遇不屑一顾的蔑视，在穷苦的绝境中，被家人朋友抛弃。基督甘心地承受这些苦难，你还要抱怨吗？基督也有许多仇敌和毁谤他的人，你还希望所有人都成为你的朋友和恩人吗？你若不承受苦难，你的耐心何以加冕？你若不愿意面对异议，又怎能成为基督之友呢？你若要与基督同在，就要与基督一同受苦。

如果你曾经完全了解过主耶稣的内心，并且感受过一点他炽热的爱的滋味，你就会忽略自己，并且欣然接受你所承受的凌辱；因为耶稣的爱，可以令人看轻自己。真正热爱耶稣真理的人，内外真实一致且不受情欲束缚，他能够自由地走向上帝，在心灵中超越自己，愉悦地享受安宁。

真正了解万物的人会按照事物本来的面目判断它们，而非遵照他人的说法而妄下定论，因为这种智慧并非出于人，而是出于上帝。过内在生活，不注重外表的人，不需要特定的地点，或是特定的时间，就可以随时随地敬拜上帝。注重内心生活的人容易集中精神，因为他不受外物所累。他不被任何表面事务所扰乱，并能顺其自然，随遇而安。内心规划合理的人，不会因别人乖戾的行为而困扰；一个人只有自己无法克制才会被这些事所扰乱，深感迷惘。

你若内心刚正，纯净无暇，万事都将互相效力，让你受益。但是你若时常感到不安，那是因为你还未完全向自己的内心死去，未曾割断对世俗之物的爱恋。对于被造之物自私的留恋，会玷污和束缚人心，其力量超越一切。你若排斥所有外来的慰藉，就能沉思天堂的事，而且内心常常享受极大的喜乐。

第二章　论谦卑顺从上帝

不要过多在意谁帮助你，谁阻碍你，却应集中精力关注上帝要你做的事。应当问心无愧，上帝必定保你周全；得到上帝一臂之力的人，不能被任何恶意所伤。你若能耐心忍耐，你必将得到上帝的关爱。上帝了解什么时候该如何帮助你，所以你应当完全顺从于他。上帝足以强大，能够帮助你，使你免受迷惑。别人了解并揭露我们的缺点对我们是有益的，那使我们更加谦卑谨慎。

如果一个人谦虚接受他的缺点，就容易安抚朋友，并和产生矛盾的人言归于好。上帝保护且拯救谦虚的人。主乐于安慰谦卑的人，眷顾谦卑的人，并给予他们恩典。谦卑的人虽受耻辱，上帝却使他得享荣耀。上帝将他的奥秘透露给谦卑的人，吸引邀请他们走向上帝。谦卑的人虽遭受苦难，却周全平安，因为他信赖上帝，而非这尘世。

第三章　论善良平和的人

首先，你要保持自己处于平和之中，然后才能为他人带去平和。比起博学的人，内心平和的人可以做更多的善事。遵从自己肉欲的人，常把善事变为罪恶，而且容易听信最坏的结果。但一个善良平和的人，却能化万物为善行。平和的人，不猜疑他人；但是内心不知足不平和的人，却疑心重重，困扰不堪，他自己不平和，也使别人不安宁。他常说不该说的话，应该做的事却没做。他时常提醒别人应该做什么，却忽略自己应该完成的事。所以，你应当先照应好自己的事情，然后才能适当地关心他人。

你知道如何找借口掩饰自己的行为，却不愿意谅解别人。公正的态度应是：谴责自己，原谅他人。你如果希望别人宽容你，你就要宽以待人。看看你距离真正的爱心和真正的谦卑还有多么遥远，不要对他人动怒，愤愤不平，而要保全自己。人们都喜欢与善良温和的人接触，这不足为奇；因为人们愿意享有安宁，与志趣相投的人交往。但是如果能与顽固不化，目无法纪，或与我们不同道的人平安相处，那更是莫大的恩典和值得称道的好事。

有些人能保持自己的内心平和，又能与他人相安无事。也有些人自己不够平和，也不能给别人带去安宁；他们常骚扰别人，但是更常常自寻烦恼。还有些人自己享受平和，而且尽力使别人也得享安宁。但是，在这痛苦的一生中，我们的平和不在于不遇困境，却在于谦卑忍耐。最能忍受困苦的人，才最能保守自己内心平和。这样的人是自我的征服者，世界的主宰者，基督的挚友，上帝的后嗣。

第四章　论内心洁净和目标单纯

单纯和洁净犹如一对翅膀，使我们超越世俗的事物。我们的目标必须简单，我们的感情必须纯净。简单使我们靠近上帝，纯净使我们领悟和享有上帝。倘若你的心完全摆脱了情欲的束缚，你就能随心所欲，积善成德。倘若你一心一意遵循上帝的旨意，为他人谋福利，你就能时常享受内心的平和。如果你内心忠诚，那么世上一切都将成为你的活镜子和记录圣德的书。任何微小卑贱的事物都体现了上帝的良善。

如果你的内心善良单纯，你就能轻易看透领悟尘世万物。内心纯净的人能够洞察天堂和地狱。一个人内在如何，他就会如何判断事物。尘世如果真的有何喜乐，那只有内心纯净的人才能享有。若是存在痛苦烦恼，只有良心乖僻的人才能了解。一块铁放在火中，便炼去了渣滓，变得炽热明亮；同样，一个人若要完全皈依上帝，便就要抛下一切的慵懒，改过自新。

一个人如果内心开始变得冷淡迟钝，即使是微小的劳苦也能使他烦恼忧虑，并且渴望尘世的慰藉。但是如果他有一次完全克服了自己，勇敢地踏上主的路，那么，先前惧怕的艰难困苦，也将变得轻而易举了。

第五章　论了解自我

我们不应过度信赖自己，因为我们常常缺少善意和悟性。我们的内心依旧缺少光明，况且我们时常疏忽这仅有的光明。我们时常不知自己内心的黑暗有多强大，常行恶事，却要掩饰自己而罪上加罪。有时我们受到欲望驱使，却以为是激情感动。我们责备别人的小过失，却无视自己犯下的滔天大罪。我们常抱怨别人给予我们的痛苦，却不顾我们给别人带来的烦恼。人若能公正判断自己的德行，就找不到借口埋怨别人了。

诚心的基督徒必将修炼自己的灵性高于一切。勤于提升自我的人就容易保持缄默，不谈论别人的事情。如果你做不到不对别人的事妄下定论，专心反省自己的话，你永远都不能成为真正虔诚的人。倘若你全神贯注思考上帝和你自己，外界的一切都将是你眼中的虚空。你的心若不深深自省，又在哪里呢？你若历尽世事，却疏忽了自己，对你又何益呢？如果你渴望心中安宁，目标单纯，你就要将尘世抛诸脑后，全身心自省。

如果你能使自己摆脱世俗之事的困扰，你就能获益匪浅。但你若念念不忘，就要遭受极大的损失。除了上帝的事，不要让任何事物在你心中占据重要的位置，使你大喜大悲，遥不可及。将尘世的安慰当作一场虚空。爱上帝的人轻看尘世的万物，因为一切的价值都低于上帝。只有上帝是永恒无限的，弥漫在万物之中，带来灵魂的安慰和内心的愉悦。

第六章　论问心无愧的喜乐

善良的人内心喜乐在于其问心无愧。如果你问心无愧，必定时常体会到喜乐。无愧的良心能够忍耐承受，且在困苦中依然喜悦，但是邪恶的良心就常常惧怕不安。如果你的心不责备你，你就能得到安宁愉快。除非你是做了善事，否则不要过于高兴。邪恶的人得不到真正的喜悦，也感受不到内心的平安；因为上帝说过：“恶人必不得平安。”[3]尽管他们认为：“我们正享受平安，我们不会遇到麻烦，没有人敢伤害我们。”你不要相信他们，因为上帝立刻就将被触怒。他们的事业即将消失，他们的计划也终将溃败。

真正热爱主的人在困苦中有喜乐爱心并非难事，因为这种喜乐是在基督的十字架中的喜乐。人们得到的荣耀及人能给予的荣耀都是短暂的，而且世俗的喜悦总伴随着忧愁。善良的人将喜乐深埋在良心中，并非时常提起。圣人的喜乐源于上帝，也就在上帝那里。那才是真正的喜乐。追求真实永恒喜乐的人不在乎短暂的事物。那些追求及时行乐的人或是内心看重它的人，只能说明他们不关心上帝的愉悦。真正享受内心极大安乐的人是那些不以物喜不以己悲的人。

良心纯净的人懂得知足，内心平和。受人称赞并不能使你更加圣洁；被人诋毁也不至于贬低你的价值。你仍然是你自己，言语不能改变你；你在上帝眼中就是你自己本来的面目。如果你自省，就不必在乎别人怎样评价你。人是以貌取人，而上帝更关注人的内心，人所看到的是行为，而上帝往往更注意你的动机。谦卑的人常常行善和虚心低调。内心纯净自信的人，不寻求尘世的安慰。

如果一个人不再寻求外界的称赞，就说明他已经完全信赖上帝。保罗说：“蒙悦纳的，不是自己称许的，乃是主所称许的。”[4]属灵的人在心中与上帝同在，而不受任何外来情欲的束缚。

第七章　爱上帝胜过一切

如果你能了解爱上帝的含义，并且愿意为主而看轻自己，便得享恩典。你应当为你所热爱的耶稣抛下一切，因为主希望我们爱他胜过一切。被造之物的爱是虚空变化的；只有主的爱才是永恒真实的。信赖尘世之物的人必将与其同亡，只有深爱基督的人才能永存屹立。爱主，做主的朋友吧！世上万物都会改变，只有他决不会离弃你，也不会让你走向灭亡。你总会在某刻脱离尘世万物，无论你乐意与否。

无论生死，都要紧靠着主，完全相信主，即使所有人都改变，但是他依然能帮助你。你爱的主不容许有人与他竞争在你心里的位置，他要独占那重要的位置。如果你能清空你的内心，不让任何被造之物占据，主就很乐意与你同在。如果你发生任何事都信赖其他人，却不交托与主，结果必定枉然。不要相信和依靠随风起舞的花草，因为众生如草，一切的荣耀犹如田里的花，终将凋谢。

如果你以貌取人，必定受欺骗；如果你希望从他人身上寻求利益和慰藉，反而容易失去它。倘若你无时无刻不在追求主，你必将寻求到主。但是如果你谋求一己之私，你也会如愿以偿，只是所得之利会损害你自己罢了。因为人若不追寻主，他承受的伤害将超过全世界所有仇敌联合起来所实施的打击。

……

第十二章　论十字架的路

“舍己，背起十字架，跟从我。”[5]很多人认为这句话似乎太苛刻。但是，还有更严厉的话呢：“你们这被咒诅的人，离开我，进入那为魔鬼和他的使者所预备的永火里去。”[6]因为此刻愿意听从十字架教诲的人，就不惧怕通向永生的审判了。当主审判万众之时，这十字架的标记就会出现在天堂。那时，凡在此世效法基督承受痛苦的人，都将坦然无悔地走向主。

所以你们为何惧怕背负那引领你走向天堂的圣十字架呢？在十字架里包含着主的恩典，它是生命，是抵御敌人的保障。天堂的喜乐，内心的力量，灵魂的慰藉，都源自十字架。十字架之中蕴涵着至上的道德和完全的圣洁。除了十字架，没有可以救助灵魂得享永生的方法。所以，背负你的十字架，跟随主吧，你就能进入永生。我主已经背负着他的十字架踏上了前方的路，渴望与他一同死在十字架上吧。因为你若与他同死，也能与他同存，你若与他一同承受痛苦，就必将与他同享荣耀。

看看万物是如何在十字架中演化，相互依存至消逝的。除了圣十字架的克己之道外，再无其他的路可以让你得享永生和实现真正的内在平安。无论你去哪里，如何努力，你都找不到一条比圣十字架之道更崇高更稳妥的路了。即使你能命令万物听从你的意愿和决断，但你仍无法摆脱痛苦，无论你是否情愿；所以你还是要寻找十字架。因为你不是承受身体的疾病，就是遭受灵魂的痛苦，你总是不能躲避悲苦。

有时是上帝远离你，有时是邻人困扰你，但更有甚者，是你常把自己当作沉重的负担。任何救助或安慰都不能拯救你或减轻你的苦楚。但只要它是上帝的意愿，你就必须耐心承担。因为上帝要你了解痛苦，即使没有安慰，所以你要完全从属于上帝，在痛苦中变得更加谦卑。只有亲身经历耶稣痛苦的人，才能真正发自心底同情主。因此，永垂不朽的十字架永远等候你，无论你身在何处。无论你逃往何处，也都不能躲避它。因为你身在何方，你都伴随着自己，且要找寻自己。仰望天空和俯瞰大地，尘世外界和内心感悟，无论你走向何方，你总能找到十字架。你若希望得享内心的平安和永恒的冠冕，就必须时刻保持耐心。

你若欣然背负十字架，它就会助你一臂之力，引领你到期望的目的地，那里再无困苦，尽管那目的地并非在此世上。你若心有不甘，它就变成你的重担，令你受累，可即便如此，你依然无法逃避。你若舍弃一个十字架，你必然要找到另一个，或许是更重的一个。

对于凡人所不能躲避的事，你是想逃脱吗？世界上哪有不背负十字架，经受痛苦的圣徒呢？就算是上帝在世时，也经历了十字架的困苦，他说：基督必须受苦，之后从死里复活，才能享有他的荣耀。主一生都在承受十字架之苦，你又怎能及时行乐，另寻他路？

如果你想逃避痛苦，另寻他法，那你就受骗了，因为任何生命都充满痛苦。十字架的标记无处不在。在圣灵中越有进步的人，常常背负越重的十字架，因为他对上帝的爱越深，他在尘世被放逐的苦楚就越痛。

但是这些人虽承受痛苦，却并非毫无宽慰，因为背负十字架的过程已经让他们受益匪浅。因为当欣然背负十字架的那刻起，所有的苦楚都变成了上帝的慰藉。肉体承受的痛苦越深，内心的恩典就越强大。有时因为热爱上帝，效法他的十字架，渴望历经困苦，舍弃无忧无虑的生活，那是他相信上帝允许这么做，且痛苦越多，将来就越能取悦于上帝。这并非人力所及，而是源于基督的恩典，因此在平常想方设法逃避的事，现在凭着赤诚的心灵，竟能勇往直前，全力以赴。

人的本性并不愿意背负十字架，热爱它，严于律己，完全屈服，放弃荣耀，忍受耻辱，看轻自己，也不愿意受人轻视，忍受所有的痛苦与损失，不慕名利。如果你完全信赖你自己，就不能自己实现这些目标。但是如果你依靠上帝，你就能从天堂得到力量，自己的意志将能掌控尘世的肉体。如果你用忠诚武装自己，佩戴十字架的勋章，你就不必惧怕仇敌魔鬼了。

请你像基督善良忠心的仆人，勇敢地背负起爱你且为你钉死的主十字架吧。要做好准备，忍受悲惨的一生中的各种患难和痛苦，因为无论你在何处，它都与你同在，无论你躲在何方，它都将找寻到你。苦难必然存在，任何方法都不能令你逃避，你唯一能做的就是忍受。如果你想成为主的朋友，与他同在，就要欣然与主同饮。让主来安慰，按照他的意愿安排。但你应准备承受痛苦，并且把苦难当作最大的安慰。因为即使你一个人忍受了目前所有的痛苦，也不足以配得上将来要享受的荣耀。

当你到达这种境界，就能以苦为乐，也能因为基督而热爱它了。之后，你就享受苦难与你同在，因为你已经找到了此世的乐园。但是你若以受苦为烦恼，且企图逃避受苦，你心中就不得平安，避苦的欲望如影随形。

你若把承受苦难，经历死亡当作理所应当的事，一切都将如你所愿，你也能得到心中的平和。纵使你曾与圣保罗一起被带到第三层天，也不能因此就保证你自己不受苦难。主说：“我也要指示他，为我的名必须受许多的苦难。”[7]所以如果你想爱主，而且长久地服侍他，你便只有承受痛苦。

希望你配为上帝承受这样的苦辱，这对你是何等荣耀啊！对于所有的圣徒是何等的喜乐，对于你的邻人也是莫大的启发。尽管很少有人乐意受苦，但是所有人都会为此赞不绝口，由衷钦佩。你的确应当愉快地为主承受一些痛苦，因为有很多人正因为世俗的原因更加痛苦。

你要确实了解自己应当过一种将死的生活。越走向自己的死亡，就越靠近上帝存活。除了为主屈服，甘心承受痛苦外，没有人配得上了解天堂的事。没有什么比为上帝欣然受苦更能取悦于上帝了。假如你有机会选择，宁可为主受苦也不要享受许多的安慰，只有你才能效法基督，堪比古圣先贤。人生的价值与属灵的进步不在于享受多少欢乐慰藉，而在于承受多少艰难困苦。

如果有比受苦更好的方式令人们受益，那么主必定早就用言语启示我们了。对于跟随主的十二使徒和所有愿意皈依他的人，他都一视同仁，耐心教导：“若有人要跟从我，就当舍己，天天背起他的十字架来跟从我。”[8]所以在反复思考，权衡利弊后，我们得出了最后的结论：“我们进入神的国，必须经历许多艰难。”[9]

————————————————————

[1] 《新约·路加福音》第17章第21节。——译者注

[2] 《新约·约翰福音》第14章第23节。——译者注

[3] 《旧约·以赛亚书》第57章第21节。——译者注

[4] 《新约·哥林多后书》第10章第18节。——译者注

[5] 《新约·马太福音》第16章第24节。——译者注

[6] 《新约·马太福音》第25章第41节。——译者注

[7] 《新约·使徒行传》第9章第16节。——译者注

[8] 《新约·路加福音》第9章第23节。——译者注

[9] 《新约·使徒行传》第14章第22节。——译者注

第三卷　论内心安慰

第一章　主如何与我们的内心对话

“我要聆听上帝与我内心的对话。”能够聆听主与其内心对话，并得到主安慰的人有福了。能够愉悦地倾听神的低语，不顾尘世的声响，只要关注内心的真理教诲，不用理会外界喧嚣之音，这人的耳朵也真有福了。不必张望外来的事物，只须注视内心的事，这人的眼睛真有福了。关注自己的内心，并每日全心准备领略天堂的奥秘，这样的人有福了。哦，我的灵魂啊，不为俗事所扰，克制情欲，无时不刻都为上帝服侍的人，就能听到上帝与其内心的交谈。

你爱的主这样说：我来拯救你，赐予你平安和生命；与我同在，你就能享有平安。不要关注那些暂时的事，而要真心寻求那永恒不变的事。昙花一现不过是诱人的陷阱。如果你被造物者所弃，那么一切被造之物对你又何益呢？因此你应远离所有的事物，专心致志取悦于造物者，忠诚地服侍他，这样才能得到真正的恩典。

第二章　真理如何无声地启示我们

门徒：“主啊！请说，你的仆人在敬听。”

“我是你的仆人，求你赐我理性，那样我就可以明白你的法度。”

“求你使我的心跟随你的话，倾听着你的话语如甘霖般滴下。”以色列的百姓们曾对摩西说：“求你和我们说话，我们必听；不要神和我们说话，恐怕我们死亡。”[1]主啊，我祈求不是如此，我愿和先知撒母耳一样，谦卑而诚实地说：“主啊，请说，你的仆人在敬听。”不要让摩西或任何其他的先知和我对话。主啊，只要你亲自向我说话，因为你启迪指引了所有的先知，你足以完全地指引我，且无需他们的一臂之力。如果没有你，他们一无是处。

他们固然可以谈话，但是他们不能赐福于圣灵。就算他们说得再动听，你若保持缄默，他们也不能感化人心。他们教人字句，但是你能揭露其中的奥妙。他们只是传播你的诫命，但是你却能指导我们遵守。他们指示了方向，但是你却赐予我们力量，让我们勇往直前。他们所作的只是表面的，只有你才能教导启迪我们的心。他们浇水灌溉，但你却让他结出累累硕果。他们出声讲说，但是只有你才能使人醒悟透彻。

因此，不要让摩西和我们对话，而是你啊，主，上帝啊。因为你是永恒的真理，否则，只得到表面上的警告，却没有赤诚的真心，恐怕至死，我还是一无是处。或则这些话可能治罪于我——因为我听见了却未施行，明白了却未热爱，相信了却未遵守。所以，主啊，请说，你的仆人在敬听。“你有永生之道。”求你向我说话，安慰我的灵魂，让我的生命因你的颂赞、荣耀和尊贵永远归于你。

第三章　论虚心听从上帝的话

基督：我儿啊，请听我说。那是甘美无比的话，超过所有哲学家和智者的学识。我对你们说的话，是灵魂，是生命，不是人的理性所能测度的。上帝的话并非要你虚荣地称赞，却是要你安静地谛听，谦卑而热诚地接受。

门徒：能够得到你的教诲，并且有你的律法教训的人是有福的，主啊。你使他身处痛苦仍得安息，在世上不至于孤苦无依。

基督：我从古时起教化众先知晓谕世人，直到今日仍未放弃，但是许多人对我的声音不闻不问，犹如顽石。大多数人宁愿听尘世的言语，却不喜欢听上帝的话，他们遵从自己的肉欲，却不取悦于上帝。尘世的回报低微卑贱，昙花一现，但是人们争先恐后地趋奉它；我的应许神圣高尚，长存永恒，但是人们都冷淡对待它。有谁曾无论何时都小心谨慎地服侍我，像对待世界及其主人一样呢？海说：“西顿（Sidon）啊，你当愧惭”；[2]你若问其原因，请听我慢慢道来。

为了微小的利益，人们可以千里迢迢，不辞劳苦；可为了永生，人们甚至一举手，一投足都感劳累。细微的酬报就可令人不懈追求，分文之财就可令人萌生羞耻的争讼，微小的回报和虚荣之心就可令人昼夜不息地辛勤。但是对于永恒的益处，无法比拟的奖赏，至高的荣誉，无边的荣耀，他们却吝惜些许劳作。懒惰抱怨的仆人哪，你应感到愧惭，世人冲向毁灭，比你奔向生命还更努力呢！世人在虚空之中比你在真理之中更加全神贯注呢！世人有时在他们的希望中受挫折，但是我的应许都绝不落空，也不让信赖我的人无功而返。我所应许的，我必赐给，我所说过的，我必成全，只要人忠诚地爱我，亘古不变！我必赏赐所有的善人，悦纳一切效忠于我的人。

将我的话谨记在心，常常思考其中的含义，因为当你面临诱惑时，他将使你受益匪浅。当你读到不理解的地方，要在我来临之前弄明白。我面见我所选召之人，有两种方式，一是试探，二是安慰。每天我都教授他们两个功课，一是纠正他们的过失，二是勉励他们在德行上有所进步。“听见我的话却不屑一顾的人，必将在末日受审。”

祷告虔诚的恩典

门徒：主啊！我的上帝，一切美好都源于你，我是谁，我怎敢向你说话呢？我是你的最贫穷卑微的仆人，是最微小的虫子，我的低微非我言语所能表达。但是，主啊，求你不要忘记，我不过是虚空，一无所有，也毫无所能。只有你是善良公正、单纯神圣的，你无所不能，赐予万物，只让那邪恶的人空手而归。请不要忘记你的慈爱，主啊，让你的恩典充满我的心，因为你也不愿意见你创造之物归于徒然。我怎能度过这悲惨的一生，除非你的仁慈让我更加坚定？求你不要抛弃我，也不要迟迟不来，请不要收回你的安慰，否则，我的灵魂将一片荒芜。主啊，请指引我遵行你的旨意，指引我在你眼前过着有价值且谦卑的生活；因为你是我智慧的源泉，只有你真正了解我，在我未来到这世上之前，甚至在未有天地之先，你就已经认识了我。

第四章　论真理和谦卑

基督：我儿啊，探索真理的道路上要赶在我先，并常常本着一颗单纯的心寻求我。赶在我先寻求真理的人，我必将保护他不受诱惑和毁谤。如果真理让你获得自由，你们就真的自由了，人们的浮词妄语都不能伤害你。

门徒：主啊！这话是真的，就让你所说的话在我身上实现。愿你的真理教诲我，保佑我，救赎我，直到最后一刻。愿真理协助我脱离一切邪恶的私欲，我就能完全自由，与你同行。

基督：真理说，我会将取悦我的事指教你。你要忧伤悔过你犯下的罪，不要因为任何善行而骄傲自满。你事实上仍有罪，为许多情欲所困扰，按照你的本性，总是趋于幻想，易于堕落，失败，混乱，乃至分裂。你没有可夸耀之处，倒有许多不齿之事，因为你比自己想象的更加软弱。

对于自己所做的事，切不可自命不凡。除了永恒的事物，任何事都不可看得伟大，或珍贵，或妙不可言，或夸强说会，也不要把什么事都当作神圣崇高、值得称赞追求的。让永恒的真理成为你仅有的至高荣耀，让自己极端的无用时常困扰你。没有什么比你的罪恶更令你惧怕，谴责，逃避；这比失去所有的事物都痛苦。有的人在我的眼前行为不忠诚，他只是出于好奇心和傲慢，希望了解我的奥秘，想明白上帝的至高之事，却忽略拯救自己的灵魂。当我拒绝他们时，他们的傲慢和好奇就会陷入诱惑和罪恶之中。

你要敬畏上帝的审判，担忧触怒万能的上帝。不要企图调查至高者的方式，而应努力省察自己的罪过，已犯下多少罪，又有多少善事仍未完成。有的人热衷于书本，有的人热衷于图画，又有的人热衷于外表的标记和形式。有的人口中敬畏我，心中却远离我。但是也有人在悟性中看到了曙光，净化了内心的欲望，且全心追求永恒的事。这些人厌恶世俗之事，甚至连满足基本的自然需要也感到不安。不过就是这样的人才能真正领会圣灵所说的真理。因为圣灵教他们看轻世俗，爱慕上天，舍下尘世，渴望天堂。

第五章　上帝之爱，奇妙无穷

门徒：天父，我主耶稣基督的父啊！我赞美你，因为你曾记念我这卑微的仆人。慈悲的天父，所有的安慰都源于你！万分感激啊，因为你时时安慰我这不配享有安慰的人。将所有的恩典和荣耀归于你，你的独生子，圣灵保惠师，从此刻直到永远。主上帝啊，爱我灵魂的主，当你来到我心中时，我的内心欢呼雀跃。你是我的荣耀，是心中真正的喜乐；你是我的希望，是我患难时的避难所。

但是因为我的爱还很脆弱，德行并不完善，我仍需要你来安慰我，赐予我力量。祈求你时常造访我，用圣律指引我。求你让我摆脱邪恶的情欲，治愈我内心的私欲，净化我的内心，使其洁净无疵，我就能仁爱待人，勇于承受，并坚持不懈。

爱拥有万能的力量，是伟大而且完全的善行；唯有爱可减轻重荷，唯有爱能抚平坎坷。即使背负重担也不以为重，承受痛苦也甘之如饴。耶稣的爱神圣崇高，常能促使人们做出伟大的事，激励人们不断追求更完美的境界。爱使人积极向上，不为低贱的事所累。爱使人渴望自由，超脱一切世俗的欲念，因此他们内心的曙光不至昏暗，也能不为昙花一现的荣华所束缚，不为任何厄运所阻碍。在天堂或尘世，没有比爱更甜美、更勇敢、更高尚、更广阔、更愉悦、更充实、更美好的事物，因为爱源于上帝，超越万物，只能永存于上帝。

爱令人飞跃欢乐，自由奔跑，不受拘束。爱令你舍弃一切，又得到一切，停留在超乎万物的至高者之中，所有美善都出自那里。爱并不看重天资，却将一切的好处归于上帝。爱不存在任何界限，它却超过一切的边界。爱不觉重担，不计劳苦，不懈尝试，认为一切皆有可能，爱也不借口推辞，万事都是可行的。因此爱令人伟大；这有点奇怪，却的确有效；但没有爱的人，就畏怯不前、一败涂地。

爱常警醒，永不沉睡；虽辛苦劳累，却不感疲倦；虽受压迫，却不受困；虽受惊吓，却不混乱；他犹如灼烧的火焰，炽热的火炬，飞腾直上，锐不可当。那些爱上帝的人非常了解上帝的声音，出乎心灵的热情是上帝耳中强烈的声音：“我的主，我的爱，你全是我的，我完全属于你。”

祷　告

主啊，求你对我的爱更加深刻，使我能用心感受，体会爱的滋味是何等甘甜，使我溶于你的爱，浸透在你的爱中。唯愿你的爱包围着我，令我超越自己，超乎想象地爱恋它。我愿歌唱爱，我愿跟随我所爱的主直到至高之处。愿我的灵魂沐浴在你的赞誉中，为爱欢呼赞扬。我愿爱你甚于爱自己，就是爱自己也只是为了你。我愿意爱所有爱你的人，凡蒙你光照的人，因爱的名义，都要真心爱你。

爱是短暂的、纯净的、亲切的、快乐的、温柔的，爱也是勇敢的、耐心的、忠实的、谨慎的、坚忍的、刚强的，而且不谋私利。无论何事，人若为一己之私，那时，他的爱就不纯粹了。爱是小心的、谦卑的、正直的、不谄媚、不轻薄、不虚荣，爱是自制的、贞洁的、恒久的、安静的，而且不束缚于感官的冲动。爱是温和的，顺从的，对己自卑，对上帝热心，并且充满感激，常常寄信心与希望于他。纵使遭遇苦难，也是如此，在爱中仍要承受痛苦。

不准备受苦，或不坚守神的旨意的人，不配称为爱主的人。爱主的人必须要为他所爱的主，甘心忍受一切艰难苦楚，不因身处逆境而背弃他。

第六章　论真正爱主之人的证据

基督：我儿啊，你还不足称为一个勇敢明智爱主的人。

门徒：主啊，你为何这么说呢？

基督：因为你一遭受一点麻烦，就舍弃了你当初的使命，而且急于求得安慰。勇敢爱我的人，面对诱惑时，必坚定不移，也不听仇敌狡猾的劝诱，无论是顺境或是逆境中，都真心对我。

有智慧地爱人，不重视所赠送的礼物，而在意赠送者的爱心。比起礼物的价值，他更重视感情，认为所有礼物都不及他所爱的人。同样，一个心地高尚的爱我的人，也不留意于我所赐的恩，却认为所有的恩典都不及我。如果有时你不能如愿地靠近我和我的众圣徒，也不必因此失望。要知道你有时享受到的美妙情感，是我的恩典与你同在的结果，那是让你提前体会一下天堂的滋味，但是你切不可过于依靠这种感觉，因为它转瞬即逝。但是，抵抗邪恶的思想，拒绝魔鬼的暗示，才能彰显德行获得赞誉。

不要让特殊的幻想扰乱你的心，徒增烦恼，要坚持你的志向，且始终忠于上帝。有时你可以体会至高之处的愉悦，但是很快又回到惯常的虚空状态，请不要沮丧。因为你宁可痛苦忍受也不愿犯罪，这并不是故意刁难，而是顺其自然，只要你不喜欢这些，你就必定尽力抵抗，这就成为了你的奖赏，而不是损失。

你也许知道你的老仇敌仍在竭力想尽各种方法来阻挡你的善行。使你不能虔诚静心，不能敬拜上帝的圣徒，不能敬虔地思考我的痛苦，不能有效审视你的罪，不能守卫你的心，不能坚定向善的志向。它（魔鬼）还令你产生邪思恶念，使你感到厌倦和恐怖，然后就疲于祷告和读圣经。它们最不喜欢人们谦卑忏悔，假如可能，他们会阻止你和上帝对话。你切不可相信它们，虽然它们常常安设欺骗的陷阱，你也不必要理会它。当它用罪恶和不洁的思想暗示你的时候，你可控诉它，对它说：“滚开！你这个邪恶的幽灵，羞愧吧，你这丑污的恶鬼，离我远一点！不要把这些话常常带到我的耳中。你邪恶的诱惑者，离开我吧！你与我毫不相干，因为耶稣会像一个强健的勇士与我同在，你会惊慌失措的。我宁愿死，或受各种的折磨，但决不愿随从你。闭口静默吧！即使你再困扰我，我也不再听你了，主是我的亮光，救赎我，我还怕谁呢？”“虽然万人起来攻击我，但我不惧怕。”“因主在帮助我，救赎我。”

像战士一样战斗吧，尽管有时因力所不及而致失败，但要更加勇敢，信赖我取之不尽的恩典。但是要防备骄傲自满或虚情假意，那误导了许多人，甚至令他们跌入几乎不可挽救的混沌中。希望这些因傲慢而失足的人令你警醒，永远谦逊卑微。

第七章　论谦卑地保守恩典

基督：我儿啊，应隐藏所得的恩典，这对你稳妥有益；切不可因恩典而自吹自擂，大言不惭。最好谦恭虚己，唯恐自己不配得此恩典。你不要过于依赖眼前的美好，因为它很容易就变得冷清。当你享受恩典时，应感怀不蒙恩典时的可怜穷困。灵性的提升并不完全在于是否得蒙恩典，而在于没有安慰时你能否以谦卑舍己和忍耐的心忍受一切，并不放弃祷告，或忽视寻常的职责。你反要更加愉悦地尽力完成眼前的事，切不可因枯燥担忧而心生懈怠。

许多人都因事情不如其所愿而焦躁懒惰。人生之路并非由自己掌控，一切赐予和安慰都属于上帝。何时该赐予谁多少都是依照上帝的旨意和喜好进行的。有些人过于切望恩典，鲁莽行事，反而害了自己，因为他们没有考虑自己的软弱，感情用事，缺乏理性判断，奢望完成力所不及的事。因为他们所做的事超出了上帝的旨意，因此他们很快就错失了恩典。那些希望在天堂结巢的人，孤苦无助，他们应当醒悟不应靠自己羽翼而飞翔，而要信赖我的庇护。那些希望侍奉上帝但没有经验的初学者，极易遭受欺骗，迷失自己，除非有贤明的领袖指引他们。

如果他们不肯信赖经验丰富的人，固执己见，他们的结局非常危险，除非他们不再一意孤行。自以为是的人大多不愿意虚心接受他人的领导，比起学富五车却心高气傲的人，知识浅薄谦卑向善的人更胜一筹。宁可天资鲁钝，也不可恃才傲物。享受恩典时纵情欢乐，不顾之前贫弱，疏忽敬畏上帝，这样是不明智的，因为眼前主的恩典将会消失。同样，在艰难困苦中，过于绝望而不再信赖我的人也是糊涂的。

安乐时过于大意的人，必将在战争中惊慌失措。你若始终谦卑谨慎，适时调整自己的内心，你就不易陷入危险与罪恶之中了。最好的建议就是当你内心的奉献精神高涨如火时，该想想它消失时，你会怎样。当热情冷却时，不要忘记那光还会回来，这是对你的警告，也是因为我的荣耀，才暂且收回我的恩典。

这样的考验比起凡事如你所愿更为有益。因为人的德行并不在于他所见的异象和所享受的安慰，也不在于他如何熟识圣经，或是如何高贵。而是真正地扎根于谦卑之中，和对上帝的真爱中；在于常常纯净诚恳地追求上帝的喜悦；在于谦卑诚恳地虚己，且喜为人所轻视；在于他蒙受屈辱而非得享荣耀。

……

第九章　只有上帝是我们的完美结局

基督：我儿啊，如果你想拥有真正的幸福，你就应该把我作为你至高的完美结局。完全信赖我，将洁净你的内心，不至于无节制地倾向自私和尘世的事物。因为无论何时你寻求自己的利益，你都将立刻失掉力量，灰心丧气。所以将万物都归于我，因为万物都源于我。你要知道万物都出于至高之善，都源于我，万物终将归于我。

犹如清泉的源头，无论长幼贫富，众生的生命之水都源于我。甘心乐意服侍我的人，必将得到恩上之恩。但妄想从我之外的事物寻求荣耀，或为一己之私而欢愉的人，必不能享有真正的愉悦，他的心不会更强大，却要承受多方阻碍和折磨。所以你不应谋求自己的利益，不应将美好的一切归于他人，而应归于我主。若不是因为主，人将一无所有。我已将万物全赐予你，但是我的旨意是你终将又归于我，而且要你确有感恩之心。

这就是真理，虚荣心毫无立足之地。如果你心中充满天恩和真爱，必然不存狭隘，也不只爱自己。因为上帝的爱能超越一切，赐予灵魂力量。你若真正明智，必定只取悦于我，只期望于我；因为除了上帝以外，没有人为良善的。唯有上帝当受赞美于万有之上，受称颂于万有之中。

第十章　论侍奉上帝的喜乐

门徒：我主啊！我还要说，不能缄默无言，我要向至高无上的上帝、我的主、我的王说：“主啊！对于敬畏你的人，你的恩典是何等丰盛啊！”但是对于爱你的人如何呢？对于全心侍奉你的人又如何呢？你赐给爱你的人的恩惠令他们妙不可言。我们已经看到你的慷慨，当我不存在时，你创造了我，当我陷入迷途远离你时，你又引我归来可以侍奉你，让我爱你。

爱的泉源啊，亘古不变，我将如何诉说你呢！我怎能忘记你，在我死亡之后，你仍怀念我。你超乎想象地爱着你的仆人，你所赐的恩惠怜悯都超过我所应得。我应如何报答你的恩惠呢？因为并非人人都享有这种恩典，舍弃一切，摒绝世俗，过着虔诚的生活。我应当侍奉你，这并不出人意料，因为受造之物都应该侍奉你。我侍奉你不足为奇，但可喜的是你不嫌我地位卑微，肯收纳我做你的仆人，把我列在所爱的众仆人之内。

我所有的一切愿给予你，和我一起来侍奉你。由此看来，不是我侍奉你，反之，却是你服侍了我。看看你已为众生创造的天地万物，他们依照你的旨意每日运行。远不止此，你又命令天使保护人类。但是还有超乎一切之上的恩典，那便是你亲自守卫众生，承诺将自己赐予人们。

我该如何报答你这深重的恩典？哦，我愿能终身侍奉你！哪怕至少一天，我愿为你做些有价值的事。因为你理应得到万人的侍奉、一切的荣耀、永恒的赞美。你就是我的主，我也真是你的仆人，应当全力以赴侍奉你，且孜孜不倦地赞美你。这是我衷心的愿望，也是我超越一切的渴望，我若有不足，我恳求你提供给我。

能够服侍你，轻看其他一切，这既是极大的荣誉，也是极大的荣耀。至高的恩典将赐予那些心甘情愿奉献自己以服侍你的人。那些因为爱你而摒弃一切尘世快乐的人，必将得到圣灵甜蜜的安慰。那些因为我主走向窄门，离弃世俗的人，必将享有心中的自由。

服侍上帝令人无比喜悦。他能使人得到真正的自由和纯一的圣洁。侍奉上帝何等的神圣，它能使人和天使一样，为上帝所喜悦，为魔鬼所畏惧，又倍受众圣徒所敬仰。服侍上帝值得我们永远追求，因着这工，我们就可得至善的赏赐和无边的福乐。

第十一章　要省察节制内心的愿望

基督：我儿啊！你还要学习许多未曾了解的事。

圣徒：主啊，那是什么事？

基督：你的愿望要完全取悦于我，不要爱着自己，要热切遵循我的旨意。时常有各种欲望鼓动你，猛烈地催逼你，但是你要考虑清楚这些愿望是为了你自己的利益还是为着我的荣耀？若是因为我，你必定接受我所安排的一切，但是若有自私的意念杂于其间，那么，它就会阻碍、烦扰你。

所以切勿太过热衷于没有得到我允许的愿望，否则你将来会后悔，或令你之前渴望的事变为你所厌恶的。因为并不是所有看起来美好的情感都可追寻，同样，并非所有看似反感的事都应立即舍弃。有时最美好的愿望也要加以克制，否则恐怕不合时宜的努力，会扰乱你的内心，或是因为缺少自我克制，而成为别人的话柄，或是因为别人的阻碍，你倍感困扰，陷入迷茫。

你必须坚强勇敢地克制自己的欲望，不顾肉身的喜好，竭尽全力抑制肉欲，使之精神化。要纠正掌控你的欲望直到它顺从自如。要学会知足，乐于淡泊，纵使身处逆境也不怨天尤人。

第十二章　学习忍耐抵抗情欲

门徒：主上帝啊！我知道我们最需要的就是忍耐，因为此生中要经历许多考验。因为无论我如何渴望为自己，也不能逃脱冲突和痛苦。

基督：我儿啊，的确如此。我的旨意不是让你寻求那没有痛苦和诱惑的平安，却是要你在经历痛苦的患难之时寻求平安。假若你说：你不能受痛苦，那么你怎能承受将来的水火呢？两害之中取其轻，为着要逃避永恒的惩罚，你必须现在竭力因为上帝而忍耐生活中的苦楚。你是否想着世人都没有或只经历微小的痛苦？问一问生活最富足的人，你就发现结果并非如此。

但你也许会说，他们享有许多乐趣，并可以随心所欲，痛苦就显得无足轻重了。即使他们可以随心所欲，但是能持续多久呢？这世上的富人将会像轻烟般消逝，他们将永远忘记过去欢乐的记忆。即使在此生也不能完全平安，没有苦痛、忧愁和恐惧，因为他们忧愁的种子常常埋于喜悦的事中。既然他们肆无忌惮地追求快乐，就不能毫无羞耻和苦痛地享受这些快乐。这一切的快乐是何等的短促、虚浮、狂妄而低贱啊！可是人是多么的盲目昏迷，所以他们全不明白，好像愚钝的兽类，只贪享那微小的欢乐，却丧失了他们的灵魂。所以，我儿啊，不要放纵淫欲，唯我独尊。“要以耶和华为乐，他就将你心里所求的赐给你。”[3]

你若想得享真正的喜乐和我完全的安慰，就必须：轻看尘世一切，脱离低级的趣味，才能享受恩典，并感受富足的安慰。你越远离世俗的舒适，你越能体会我赐予安慰的甘美。但这并非立刻能实现，在起初你难免有些忧苦和折磨。旧日固有的习惯必须顽强抵抗，你要步步为营，最终战胜它们。肉体会怨恨你，但是你应该要靠着心灵的热情约束它。魔鬼可能试探引诱你，但是凭借祷告，它必将落荒而逃。你也可以通过有益的劳动阻拦它的来路，使它无隙可乘。

第十三章　论谦卑顺从，效法基督

基督：我儿啊，那些不肯顺从的人，必将失去上帝的恩宠。人若寻求私利，就必失掉公福。凡人若不心甘情愿顺服长者，那表示他还未完全克服他的肉体，它仍时常挣扎和怨恨地反抗他。所以，你若想抑制你的欲望，就要赶快学习顺从长者。因为你若守卫住你的内心，就容易战胜即将到来的敌人。如果你的心灵不和谐，那么，你就将是自己最顽恶的敌人。你若想战胜自己的血肉，就必须诚实地轻看自己。因为你若仍溺爱自己，就不情愿将自己完全降服于他人的意志。

我是万能而又至高无上的、创造万物，尚且为你的缘故愿意谦卑地顺从于人。何况你不过是尘土，若是为上帝的缘故服从于人，又算得了什么呢？我曾成为众人的最卑最贱者，就是要使你学我的谦卑而克服骄傲。你只不过是尘土啊，你要学习顺从；泥土啊，你要学习谦卑，俯伏于众人的脚下。你要学习破除己意，绝对顺从。

你要努力克服自己，不容自己有丝毫骄傲。表现得顺从谦卑，让众人皆可行走于你之上，像践踏街道上的泥土一般。虚无的人啊，有什么怨诉的呢？污秽的罪人啊！你常常得罪上帝，多次应得地狱之刑，对于谴责你的人还有何言可答呢？但是我已经饶恕了你，因为你的灵魂对我而言极为宝贵，所以你要知道我的爱，要常常感谢我的恩。

你还要不断地努力达到真正的自卑、顺从、耐心忍受他人的藐视。

……

第十七章　我们如何完全交托于主

基督：我儿啊，让我的旨意指引你。我知道怎样对你最有益。你的思想只不过是凡人之见，你的判断也常受自我情绪的影响。

门徒：主啊，你说的不错，你的安排胜过我自己的一切方法。人若不将一切交托于你，必难得平安。主啊，只要让我的意志坚定不移地顺从你，我愿听候你任何安排；因为你对我的旨意，都是美好的。假若你的旨意要我处身于黑暗中，我赞美你；假若你的旨意要我身处光明，我也要赞美你。你若赐我安慰，我赞美你；但是你若考验我，我还是赞美你。

基督：我儿啊，你要与我同行，就应该如此。你应该如享乐一般甘心受苦；你应该如获得富贵一般愉快地享受贫穷匮乏。

门徒：主啊，为了你，我将欣然接受你令我遭遇的一切。从你的手中，我愿意平心地接受福与祸，甜与苦，喜乐与忧愁，我将为一切遭遇而感谢你。求你保护我远离罪恶，我就不怕死亡与地狱。我祈求你永远不要丢弃我，也不要从生命册上涂掉我的名字，这样，一切的苦难，就无法加害于我。

第十八章　痛苦如何得以忍耐

基督：我儿啊，我从天堂而来就是为要拯救你，我替你承受忧患，非出于必须，却是因为单纯地爱你。因此，你要学习忍耐暂时的苦难，不生怨恨之心。从我降生之时到死在十字架为止，我无时无刻不在承受痛苦。我缺乏在世生活的必需品，常听见有人诋毁我，我忍受侮慢、凌辱。我施恩于人，却得到忘恩负义的报答；我带来奇迹却遭人亵渎；我教诲真言，却受斥责。

门徒：主啊，你一生忍耐，为要实现圣父的旨意，何况我，一个不堪的罪人，岂不更应该遵照你的旨意耐心忍受？为了救赎自己的灵魂，岂不该依照你的旨意耐心担负起这腐朽的生命的责任。尽管此世艰苦，但你的恩惠使之有益；因为你的榜样，和古圣先贤的指引，软弱的人，也乐于忍受。如今的安慰远远超越古律法时代，因为那时天门仍旧关闭，天路似乎晦暝不通，寻求天国的人也寥寥无几。那时应当得到救赎的人，也不能进入天国，因为你赎罪之功尚未完成，死亡之债也尚未偿清。

我对你充满无限的感激，你指引了我，所有的信徒都踏上了那进入你永恒国度的神圣之路。你的生活就是我们的方向，我们效法你的忍耐，向你走去，得享冠冕圆满。主啊，若你未曾走在我们之前指引我们，谁有勇气追随呢？有多少人如果不是默念你的榜样，他们早就落伍了。如今，我们虽然常常听到你的教诲和神迹，我们还是冷漠，若是没有你的光明指引，我们现在又会怎样，结局可想而知。

第十九章　论忍受创伤和耐心的证明

基督：我儿啊，你在说什么？想想我赎罪之功和许多圣贤所受之苦，就不要抱怨了。你还没有抵抗到流血的地步；和先圣们所受的困苦、诱惑、磨炼相比，你承受的微不足道。所以，不要忘记别人所受的沉重苦难，你就会忍受自己的微小困难了。如果你自认为所受的苦并非轻微，或许是因为你没有耐心忍受吧。因此，无论苦难是大是小，都要耐心忍受。

你愈充分准备迎接痛苦，你就愈加明智，你的奖赏就愈丰盛。你的内心愈勤于准备承受痛苦，你就愈觉得它容易忍受。不要说：“我不能忍受某人所强加我的一切，我也不该受此冤屈，因为他所做的事极大地伤害了我，他痛斥我超出了我的想象，也许出于其他人，我会接受，就如同我理应承受的那样。”这样的想法实在愚味，因为你无视忍耐的美德和因忍耐而获得的冠冕，却只计较得罪你的人，以及他们带来的苦楚。

如果只是甘愿承受自己认为好的苦和自己所喜悦的人带来的苦，那不算真正的忍耐。真有忍耐之心的人不管是谁带来痛苦，不论是长者，是平辈，或是下人，也不论是善良圣洁的人，或是邪恶卑贱的人，他都能欣然接受。不论大小，不论多少，他都怀有感恩之心，把痛苦当作上帝的赐予，令其获益匪浅。因为任何事，只要源于上帝，就不会是徒然无益的。

如果你想要获胜，就要时刻准备战斗；未曾经历磨难，就不能享有冠冕；你若拒绝苦难，你就等于拒绝冠冕。因此，你若渴望冠冕，就必须勇敢作战，坚持到底。没有劳苦，无所谓休息；没有战争，也无所谓胜利。

门徒：主啊，让你的恩典助我一臂之力，完成我本性办不到的事。你了解，我只能承受微小的苦，每当轻微的患难加身时，我便很快地跌倒了。以你之名，我祈求你，能让我以苦为乐，因你而受苦，这将对我的灵魂大有裨益。

第二十章　论自身弱点和今生的考验

门徒：主啊，我要忏悔我的罪孽，承认我的弱点。我经常只因一点小事而忧愁沮丧。我决定要勇敢行事，但是一旦遇到微小的试探，我便立刻感到窘困。有时原本是一点小事，最终竟因此变成更大的诱惑。当我认为自己稳妥无忧时，却几乎被一阵轻风吹倒。

主啊，求你看顾我的卑微和弱点，这些你全都知道。请怜悯我，拯救我脱离泥潭，我就不至于深陷其中，一蹶不振。在你面前，我常感灰心惭愧，那是因为我易于跌倒，无力抵抗情欲。尽管我并非完全失败，但它们不断地困扰我，我十分厌倦过这矛盾冲突的生活。我亦深知我的弱点，因为邪念易于闯入我的内心，却挥之不去。

全能的以色列上帝啊，深爱信徒灵魂的主，祈祷你顾念你仆人的劳苦和忧愁，求你助他一臂之力。求你赐予他天上的勇气让他更加强大，否则恐怕那旧人、那仇敌邪恶的肉体、那尚未完全顺服的灵魂，将得占上风。因此，只要我一息尚存，就要在苦难的此生与之战斗。唉，这是何等悲惨的一生啊，患难愁苦连续不断，陷阱和仇敌随处可见。一个患难或诱惑刚过去，第二个又随之而来，甚至有时先前的战斗还未结束，其他仇敌又突然袭来。

此生如此痛苦，多灾多难，我们怎能爱慕它呢？它带来多少死亡与瘟疫，又怎能被称为生活呢？但是人们仍然爱它，多少人仍然追求其中的乐趣。人们虽然常常指责世俗的虚伪，可是仍然不肯舍弃世俗，因为肉体的情欲还具有很强的支配力量。这个世界有其惹人喜爱之处，同时也有可憎之处。肉体的情欲，眼目的情欲和今生的骄傲都深深吸引着我们，但紧随其后的痛苦忧愁也足以令我们心生厌恶。

随从世俗的人，他的心已被扭曲的快乐所占据，以荆棘中的生活为喜悦，这是因为他未曾尝过天堂的滋味，和善行带来的内心喜乐。只有淡薄世俗，虔心顺从圣律为主而活的人，才能尽享主赐予的喜悦，才能知晓这世俗是何等的荒谬和虚伪。

第二十一章　何以安息于上帝，超越一切

门徒：啊，我的灵魂，超越一切，又在主安排的一切之中，因为主才是众圣徒永恒的安息。

祈　祷

最敬爱的耶稣啊！祈求你使我超越一切的被造之物，在你那里得享安息；超越健康和美丽、超越荣耀和荣誉、超越权势和尊贵、超越知识和技艺、超越名利和赞美、超越喜乐和安慰、超越希望和期待、超越报应和欲望，超越你赐予我们所有的恩典，超越心中能感受的所有喜悦与激动，超越天使、天使长和众天军，超越一切有形无形的事物，超越上帝本身之外的一切。

主啊，我的上帝，你超越了一切；唯有你是至高无上，无所不能，最富足美好的，你给予他人最多的安慰。一切美好都源于你，无论过去，现在，还是将来。因此，除非我能见到你，完完全全拥有你，否则和你相比，你所赐予我的，启示应允我的一切都极为渺小，不尽如人意。因为，我的心不能安息，也不完全满足，除非它安息在你那里，超越一切恩典和被造之物。

耶稣基督，我灵魂的伴侣啊，纯洁的爱人，创造万物的神啊，但愿我有自由的双翼，可以飞向你，安息在你那里。主啊，上帝，我何时才能完全得此恩典，享受心中的宁静，亲眼看见你的荣美呢？我何时才能聚精会神地关注你呢？我何时能因为爱你而忘却自己，只记得你，自然流露却不为人知，并超乎一切感官和想象之所及？而现在我仍时常叹息，闷闷不乐。因为在这痛苦的山谷中常有祸患困扰阻挠我，引诱迷惑我，使我不能自由地走向你，享有你赐予灵魂的甜美恩典。

耶稣啊，你是永恒荣耀的光辉，带给朝圣者灵魂的安慰。请听我呐喊，倾听我的忧伤。我口中默默无声，却让沉默替我言明一切。主迟迟不来要拖延多久呢？主啊，请来到他可怜卑贱的仆人这里，令我心中喜悦，愿他伸出手来，拯救他可怜的仆人脱离苦难。来吧，主，快来吧！若没有你，我将得不到喜乐的时光，若没有你，我的餐桌就没有客人，因为只有你是我真正的喜乐。我是生来不幸，好似身负镣铐的囚犯，直到你出现，像朋友一样关怀我。让别人追求他们所喜爱的吧，至于我，没有别的东西可以令我欢喜，唯有你，我的上帝，是我的盼望，是我永远的救赎。我将不再沉默，也不会停止祷告，直到你恩惠再次降临，内心因你的声音再次欢跃。

基督：看啊，我在这里，我听到了你的呐喊，来到你身边。你的眼泪、你灵魂的渴望、你的谦卑，和你心中的忧伤，打动了我，引我到你面前来。

门徒：主啊，我曾经呼求你，也渴望你。我决心为你舍弃一切，因为你最先触动我，让我寻求你。所以，主啊，愿赞美归于你，因为你充满慈爱，指引你的仆人何为良善。你的仆人在你面前还有什么可说的呢？他只能谦卑俯伏在你面前，永远承认他自己的罪孽和邪恶而已。

因为你无与伦比，胜过天堂和尘世一切的奇迹。你所作的全是良善，你的审判客观公正，你掌管着万物一切。愿赞美荣耀都归于你，啊，智慧之父！愿我的灵魂，我的肉体以及一切受造之物都同声赞美你。

……

第二十三章　论得享平安的四件事

基督：我儿啊，我现在要指引你有关平安和真正自由的办法。

门徒：主啊，我恳求你，请指引我。我渴望了解啊。

基督：我儿啊，要决心甘愿不顾及自己的利益而遵照他人的意愿。

总要愿意取少，不可贪多。

总要喜居低位，处身众人之下。

要常常祈求上帝的旨意能够完全成就于你身上。

这样做的人将永享平和与心灵的安宁。

门徒：主啊，你这简短的训言，包含了完善内心的全部奥秘。我若能忠实地遵守此言，定不被烦恼所困扰。无论何时我感到内心不安沮丧时，我发觉那是因为我背离了您的箴言。万物都由你掌管，你总是渴望不断完善我们的灵魂。祈求你多施恩于我，帮助我遵照你的旨意，进而实现我的救赎。

抵抗邪念的祷告

主啊，我的上帝，求你不要遗弃我；我心生邪念，我的灵魂充满恐惧，求你快快帮助我。我要怎样克服它而不受其损害呢？我要如何击败它呢？您曾说，“我将先于你，让傲慢之主谦卑地俯伏于地。我要打开牢狱的门，启示你那长久隐藏的奥秘。”主啊，照你所说的成全吧！但愿一切的邪念消失在你面前。这是我的希望，也是我的唯一安慰，能够在患难时投奔你深信你，从心底呼唤你，并耐心地等候你的安慰。

祈求内心曙光的祷告

慈悲的耶稣啊，请你将光芒照耀我心，驱除我心中的幽暗。求你压制我心中的杂念，击碎那些猛攻我的诱惑。求你与我一同战斗，征服兽性的恶欲。使我能够依靠你的能力，获得平安，并使赞美你的声音得以重闻于纯洁的内心圣殿。请命令狂风和暴雨、咆哮的大海、怒吼的北风都平静下来吧。求你发出光辉的真理，照遍大地，因为若非你照亮我，我就不过如未经铸型的无用的泥土一般。求你从天上沛降恩霖，滋润我的心；求你赐下虔诚的甘泉，洗涤大地，使它结出善良美妙的果实来。求你启迪我因罪而负荷沉重的心，让我全心全意仰望天堂的事，人若曾体会过天堂永恒的滋味，就不会留恋世俗的享乐。求你救我脱离尘世的短暂的欢乐，因为这都不能真正安慰我，让我如愿以偿。请让我的爱与你紧密相连，因为只有你能让爱你的人得到灵魂的满足，如果没有你，这尘世便毫无意义。

第二十四章　论好奇心之恶

基督：要避免不必要的好奇心。我儿啊，不要多管闲事。那些事与你有何干呢？你跟随我吧！别人是好是坏，所言所行，与你有何关系呢？你无须担心他人之事，只要你对自己完全负责，所以你为什么要给自己找麻烦呢？我了解每一个人，普天之下无所不知。我明白每一个人的情况——他的思想、他的希望，以及他的目的。因此，你要完全交托于我，心中坚守着宁静。让麻烦的人困扰自己，承受报应，因为他不能够欺骗我。

切勿贪爱虚名，渴望关注，或与人发生特别亲密的感情。因为这些事使你分心，充满不安。你若常常打开你的心门等候我，我必乐意和你说话，向你启示我的奥秘。请时刻准备，守候和祷告，最重要的是，要谦卑自守。

第二十五章　论内心长久平安与灵性真正进步

基督：我曾经说过：“我留下平安给你们，我将我的平安赐给你们，我所赐的，不像世人所赐的。”[4]人人都希望得到平安，但是却没有人关注那些能真正带来平安的事。我的平安与谦卑温柔的心同在，所以你若想获得平安就必须忍耐。你若肯听从我，遵照我的旨意，你就能得到真正的平安。

门徒：主啊，我该怎样做呢？

基督：你要谨慎对待你的一生及你的所言所行。全神贯注地使我喜悦，只追寻渴望我。不要轻率判断别人的言语行为，也不要在没有托付你的事上找麻烦，如果你遵照我的意思，就不会多受困扰。但不要设想你此生毫无困扰，或不必经受身心的痛苦，因为，只有永恒的安息，才能实现真正的平安。所以，当你觉得没有困难时，切不可以为你已经得到了真正的平安；当你不遭反对时，也不要以为万事都将如你所愿；即使一切顺意，也不要以为万事完美无缺。当你承蒙恩典，心中火热幸福时，你切不可傲慢固执，自以为特蒙恩典，因为这并不证明你真正神圣，也不决定你灵魂的进步。

门徒：主啊，那取决于什么呢？

基督：取决于你全心遵行上帝的旨意，无论大事小事，现在或永远，都不求自己的私利。如果你完全照此行事，那么无论顺境逆境，你都将同样愉悦地感激上帝，并欣然接受上帝安排的一切。你要勇敢坚强，坚定不移，即使内心失去安慰，也要准备迎接更大的考验。不可自以为义，以为你不应当遭受如此的痛苦，却要相信我的安排、秉承公义，并赞扬我的圣名。这样的话，你就踏上了真正平安的圣道，我必将再与你相见，赐予你喜悦。只要你心怀谦卑之心，我必允诺你此世得到极大的平安。

第二十六章　论自由之心的优越

门徒：主啊，一个寻求完善的人首先必将时刻关注天堂的事。只有这样，他才能在世事纷纭之中，逍遥无累，不像毫无才智的人不知道危险正在降临，而是拥有强大的自由内心，不留恋于外物。

最慈悲的上帝，我恳求你保护我脱离尘事世务的缠累和肉体情欲的沉溺，以及一切灵性的障碍，使我不被他们打败击垮。我并不祈求免于世俗所追求的虚荣，更不逃避那承受咒诅和肉体刑罚的痛苦，他们常常阻碍我的灵性，让我不能获得灵魂真正的自由。主啊，我的上帝，求你为我将一切肉体的安乐变成痛苦，因为这些时常引诱我离开对您永恒的爱，并利用短暂的好处，引诱我走向罪恶。主啊，求你不让血肉之躯战胜我，不让尘世暂时的荣耀欺骗我，也不让魔鬼的诡计陷害我。求你赐我力量可以抵抗，赐我耐心可以忍受，也赐我恒心可以坚持。我不求你赐我世上的一切福乐，只求你赐我圣灵的丰盛恩典，因为对你的爱取代了尘世一切的欢乐。关注衣食住行这些必需品的人受心灵的拖累，求你使我有节制地享受它们，不至于受其困扰。完全不顾这些东西固然是不对的，因为身体本身需要存活；但是贪多纵欲，却为圣律所禁，因为那样，肉体便要反叛圣灵。所以，我恳求你，请你指引我，掌管我，使我总能自律节制。

……

第二十八章　抵制诽谤

基督：我儿啊，若有人诋毁你，说你所不愿听的话，不要为此忧愁。应当认为自己比他们想象得更严重，也比任何人都更软弱。如果你的内心世界足够强大，就不至于受他人的轻言所影响了！大智之人，在患难的日子中总是保持安静，而且全心向主，不为人言所动。

不要让他人的言语影响你心中的平安，因为不论他们对你的批评是好是坏，你都不能因这批评而有所得失。真正的平安和喜乐只在我里面。那些不求人喜悦，也不怕人毁谤的人，才能获得真正的平安。心中一切的不安和纷扰，都源于溺爱和恐惧。

第二十九章　患难之时如何祈求赞美上帝

门徒：你的圣名应当永远受称颂，主啊！我知道正是你的旨意，诱惑与患难才会降临到我身。我不能逃避患难，但却必须投奔于你寻求帮助，化患难为喜乐。主啊，我心中忧痛，心绪不宁，正深受痛苦。亲爱的父啊，我还要说什么呢？我正在困难之中，求你救我脱离这日子。我之所以遇此患难的日子，正是为了你的荣耀，我深知只有你才能救我脱离这苦海。你的慈爱，请救救我，主啊！我如此无助，又能做什么？即使受此考验，主啊，请赐予我耐心。你助我一臂之力，我将无所畏惧，无论承受多少苦难。

此刻正处苦难，我衷心祈祷，主啊，“愿你的旨意成就。”这些痛苦乃是我所应得。我必耐心忍受此患难，直至安然度过这暴风雨。我的上帝，慈悲的主啊，你曾多次救我，我知道你的全能可以消除对我的考验，减轻我的痛苦，我就不至深陷其中。考验越艰难，至高的主啊，你就越容易改变我的道路。

第三十章　切求神佑　笃信主恩

基督：我儿啊，患难时，我是赐予你力量的主。你若内心挣扎就要到我这里来。最能阻碍你得到天上的安慰的，是你太过迟缓的祷告。因为你在未求我之前，总是先向外物寻求慰藉，期望他们来消除你的困扰。所以，你必将毫无所得，直到你完全醒悟我是上帝，只有信靠我的人才得蒙拯救，除我之外，再无有效的帮助，再无稳妥的计谋，也无长久的救法。但是，现在暴风雨既已过去，你就要在我的慈光之中恢复你的力量。因为我在此会将一切恢复原状，不仅丝毫未变，而且还要充充足足地加赐于你。

对于我，有何难成的事么？难道我像是不履行诺言的人么？你的信心在何处？你只要坚定不移，坚持不懈，勇敢、忍耐，到了时候，安慰自然会降临于你。要耐心等候我，我必来救治你。诱惑不过是考验——不必担心恐惧。忧虑将来不过给你徒增烦恼，“一天的难处一天当就够了”。[5]为将来困恼或欣喜都徒劳无益，因为这些事也许未必发生。

但是人的内心常易受这些假象的欺骗，这也说明我们的心软弱易受仇敌引诱。魔鬼欺骗你时并不在意此事是真还是假，有时令你贪爱今生的事物，有时又陷你于将来的恐怖。所以，不要令你的内心因此而纷乱或害怕。只要信赖我，信赖我的慈爱。当你以为你自己离我甚远的时候，常常就是我最靠近你的时候。当你一败涂地时，常常就是你将得到更丰盛赏赐的时候。事情不顺利的时候，并非就是失败。你不可依眼前的感觉判断事情，也不要忧愁绝望，好像所有的希望都不复存在一样。

如果我暂时让你承受些许的患难考验，或带走你所渴慕的喜悦，请不要认为我已完全抛弃了你；因为这是走向天国的必经之路。毫无疑问，历经艰难比万事顺意，更能锻炼你以及我的仆人。我知道你心中的秘密，在凡事顺利的境况中，你就会骄傲自满，将不该得的功劳归于你自己。正因如此，有时让你身处窘境，这对于你有益无害。我可以收回我所赐予的恩典，也可以送还给我所选择的人。

我所赐的安慰，依然归属于我，当我收回时，也并不是取走属于你的东西，因为一切至善与完全的恩惠都是我的！我若加你痛苦，或是任何困难，请不要抱怨沮丧；因为我能迅速帮你，且将你一切的苦楚化为喜悦。我公义地待你，应受称颂。

假若你睿智聪明，客观判断，你永远不会绝望或气馁。反之，却一定会愉悦，深深感谢我，并以忧患归为喜悦。我对我亲爱的门徒说过：“我爱你们，正如父爱我一样。”[6]我差遣他们出去，决非为享受暂时的快乐，而是要他们艰苦奋斗；并非为赢得荣耀，却是受人藐视；并非悠闲自得，却是辛苦劳作；并非放松休息，却是为结出累累硕果而耐心忍受。

第三十一章　论放弃万物　寻求造物主

门徒：主啊，我还需要更大的恩惠，求你使我达到没有任何人或任何事物可以阻碍我的地步。因为如果有任何事物拖累我，我就不能自由地走向你。那些渴望自由飞到你面前的人说：“但愿我有翅膀像鸽子，我就飞去，得享安息。”[7]有谁能比目标纯一的人更能获得安静呢？有谁能比不留恋尘世的人更逍遥自在呢？所以，人应该超越万物，完全舍弃自己，清楚地认识到任何受造之物都不能和造物主相提并论。除非一个人能超脱万物，否则他就不能全身心关注上帝的事。我们之所以很少看见沉默好思的人，就是因为没有几个人能完全超越昙花一现的受造之物。

若要超越自己的束缚，就需要承蒙更多的恩典，提高自己的灵命。除非具有超脱的心，无累于物，且完全与上帝合而为一，否则他的所知所有都毫无价值。如果一个人除了关注唯一至高永恒的上帝之外，还留恋其他的事物，他的内心就必将保持卑劣低下。除上帝以外，一切事物都是虚空，也应该被视为虚空。一个虔诚受教于上帝之人的智慧，和一个博学勤读之人的知识，有很大的差别。源于上帝的神圣启示比刻苦学到的知识要高贵得多。

有许多人渴望沉思带来的恩典，但是很少有人不辞劳苦地践行沉思所必需的要求。如果我们致力于外形和感觉的事物，却不顾完善对自己的约束，那将是很大的阻碍。我不知道出于何种原因，是何动机，我们这些所谓属灵的人常常致力费心于暂时卑贱的事物，却极少专心致志于思考自己的内心生活。

短暂的思考过后，我们便立即停止，转而去关注外在的事物，而且我们也不曾细察我们的生活究竟如何。我们不关注我们的嗜好所在，也没有因我们的不洁行为而感到愧疚。正是因为人们的恶性，上帝才引洪水而来。如果我们内心败坏了，所产生的行为也必定邪恶。这也证明人类内在的力量逐渐消逝；只有纯净的内心才能重生神圣的果实。

我们通常谈论一个人的成就，却很少关注他生活的原则。我们常常问他是否勇敢、富足、美丽，是否是一位著作家、音乐家、或科学工作者，但是他是否虚心、忍耐、温柔、虔诚、神圣，却无人问津。人的天性只知看重人的外貌，上帝的意思却要使人注意内心品性。外貌常常误导他人，令人失望，而关注内心，信靠上帝，才不至于受欺骗。

第三十二章　论舍己与弃绝欲望

基督：我儿啊，获得完全自由的唯一办法就是要舍弃自己。那些只求私利、自爱的人，都是作茧自缚，是自己欲望的奴隶。他们贪心、好奇、好不满足，游手好闲，为凡事所扰，却不服侍耶稣基督。这必然不能长久，因为凡不属于上帝的事物都必归于灭亡。记住这简明的箴言：舍弃一切，你才会得到一切；弃绝欲望，你才会获得安宁。你要好好思索这句话，当你做到时，你就会明白其中的一切。

门徒：主啊，这不是一日之功所能成，也不是儿戏之事，这句简短的话语包含了所有。

基督：我儿啊，听到这完善灵魂之道，不要感到胆怯沮丧，远离你的目标。而要更加勉励自己，要全力以赴追求这一目标。我真愿意你能达到这地步不再爱自己，却只听从我和我所指派作你长者的旨意，这样，你就一定能令我喜悦，你的整个生活也必将充满喜悦并获得平安。但是你还有许多事必须割舍，你若不将它们完全献给我，就不能达到你所向往的目标。我劝你向我买火炼的金子，让自己拥有天上的智慧，舍弃尘世的事物，变得真正富足。要对尘世的智慧不屑一顾，不试图取悦于他人或是你自己。

我说过，要把看似贵重荣耀的事物换成人们不屑一顾的事物。但是天上真正的智慧对于他们似乎一文不值，几乎为他们所遗忘。因为这些智慧不自大，也不求在尘世受人尊崇。固然有许多人言语上尊敬他，但是在他们实际生活中却无足轻重。然而，这是一颗宝贵的珍珠，只是没有人认识它的价值。

第三十三章　论人心无常

基督：我儿啊，不要信赖你的感情，因为它瞬息万变，不能持久。你在世活一天，你便一天在改变之中，即使你自己不愿意，也无可奈何，所以你有时快乐，有时悲伤；有时安静，有时纷扰；有时虔诚，有时冷淡；有时热切，有时怠慢；有时严肃，有时轻浮。但是真正的智者和在圣灵中受教的人，却以不变应万变，不论他内心的感觉如何强烈，他都不顾暂时的感觉和兴致，总能集中全部心志于那正直至善的目标。因此，在变幻的世态中，他能始终如一，坚贞不移，他的心只归属于我。

人的目标愈纯一，他愈能稳妥地度过人生的风波。但很多时候，这单纯的目标受到困扰，因为能完全超脱自私和牵累的人，在此世上绝无仅有。犹太人到伯大尼的马大和马利亚的家中，并非为耶稣的缘故，却是要看拉撒路。[8]所以，你们的动机要纯一、简单、正直，那才是唯一能够通向我的大道。

……

第三十六章　不顾无稽之谈

基督：我儿啊，你要坚定依靠主。只要良心证明你是尽职而且纯洁的，就不要畏惧他人的无稽之谈。如此受人批评，乃是美好而且快乐的事，一个谦卑、信赖上帝、不依靠自己的人，对于这样的批评丝毫不以为意。很多人高谈阔论，所以不要理会他们。况且，我们不可能让所有人都满意。圣保罗也曾想努力使他自己取悦于上帝前的所有人，造福于所有人，但他很少关注别人怎么诋毁他。他担负起造就人、拯救人的重任，且坚持不懈，可是他仍旧无法逃避被人批评和藐视。所以，他就把一切交托于无所不知的上帝，以忍耐和谦卑替自己辩护，抵抗那不公正的谎言和虚妄的思想，同时还以自夸的口吻大胆说他们不愿听的话。然而有时他也起来回复他人的责难，以免软弱的人因为他保持缄默而喋喋不休。

你为何畏惧必死之人呢？他今天还在，明天就会消失。你只要敬畏上帝，就不必恐惧他人了。人的言语或行为又如何能中伤于你呢？他不能伤害你，却只伤害他自己罢了，而且无论他是谁，都不能逃避上帝的审判。你只要面前时刻有上帝在，就不必与毁谤的言语相争辩。即使目前看来你似乎被击败，且蒙受不应得的羞辱，但请你不要怨愤或动怒，而失掉你的荣耀。相反，你却要举目仰天看我，我能够洗雪你一切羞辱和冤屈，并依照每个人的德行，赐予恩典。

第三十七章　舍己而带来内心的自由

基督：我儿啊，你要舍弃自己，才会寻见我。不为自己选择什么，也不寻求私有，你就必常常受益匪浅。因为你毫不留恋地舍弃自己时，就会得到更大的恩典。

门徒：主啊，我要舍弃自己几次呢？又当如何舍己呢？

基督：要不断地舍弃自己，每时每刻都舍己，小事大事都舍己。我对你没有别的要求，只要你完全超脱自我：除非你全身心完全超越自己，否则你如何归属于我呢？我又如何成为你的呢？你愈早舍己，对你就愈好，你愈完全真实地舍己，就愈能得到我的喜悦，你受益也就愈大。

有些人不肯完全奉献，因为他们不完全信靠上帝，所以总为自己打算。还有些人起初完全奉献自己，但是后来受了诱惑，就重回原来的状态。因此，他们的德行没有丝毫进展，也不会获得内心真正的自由，或是我的恩典，除非他们先完全归顺，并且天天奉献。否则，他们与我之间就不能合一。

我曾经多次和你说过，现在我将再说一次：你要舍己献身，才会获得内心的平安。舍弃你所有的一切，不求所得，不计报酬，只要你坚定地信赖我，你就必然得享我，并得到内心的自由，心灵也不会被黑暗所蒙蔽。努力实现此事，虔诚祷告此事，只期望如此——你就将超脱一切的自私，纯洁地跟随耶稣，向你自己死去，却向我永远活着。那时，一切的妄想、恶念、忧虑都将化为乌有；那时，一切恐惧与不安都将离开你，迷乱的情欲也将灰飞烟灭。

第三十八章　合理安排我们的俗事

基督：我儿啊，当你应对一切外界的事物时，都要努力使内心获得自由，成为自己的主人，令万事万物做你的奴仆，绝不可受制于他们。你应当做行动的主人，却不可做它们的仆人或奴隶。你应当成为一个真正自由的人，享有上帝之子的尊荣。因为上帝的儿子们必定超脱现世的事物，思念永恒的事物。尘世的事物不能牵累他们，相反地，他们却能使尘世万物依照上帝的旨意服务于他们，因为上帝所造的万物无不遵守一定的秩序。

无论在何种情况下，都要坚定不移。不要和凡人一样凭借外表和道听途说来判断事情，却要像摩西一样，无论何事都进入会幕，求问于上帝。那样，你才能听见上帝的声音。当你从那里回来时，不论现在或将来，你都将了然于胸。摩西每逢有疑问的时候，就必进入会幕求助于上帝，每逢遇到天灾人祸，就借着祷告求上帝帮助。所以，你也应以他为榜样，效法他，从心底虔诚地恳求上帝的恩典。我们在圣经上读过，约书亚和以色列人受基遍人的欺骗，那正是由于他们没有求问上帝，轻信了他们动听的言语，被他们虚假的虔诚所欺。[9]

第三十九章　不必过分忧虑

基督：我儿啊，你要将所有事都托付于我，我必将适时为你安排妥当。你要等候我的安排，你必将发现一切都为让你受益。

门徒：主啊，我时刻准备将所有事都交托于你，因为我的判断毫无价值。只希望我不必那样忧虑将来的事，全心奉献自己，只求你的喜悦。

基督：我儿啊，人们常常总是不遗余力设法得到他们想要的东西，但是当他达到目的后，就开始动另外的念头了。因为人的欲望并不是一成不变，往往从一个目标转向下一个更高的目标。所以人若能在最小的事上舍己，绝对令他受益匪浅。真正心灵的进步在于舍己，凡是舍己的人必将获得真正的自由平安。但是魔鬼总是与善为敌的，它不停地试探我们，日夜埋伏等候，欺骗陷害那些不积极防备的人。所以，“总要儆醒祷告，免得入了迷惑”。[10]

第四十章　人类毫无良善值得夸耀

门徒：“主啊，人算什么，你竟顾念他，世人算什么，你竟眷顾他？”[11]人有何功德，配受你所赐的恩典呢？主啊，即使你舍弃我，我也毫无怨言。即使你不应允我所求所想，我也不与你争论。我实在只能这样想，这样说：“主啊，我是一无所有，我也不能做任何事，我自己毫无良善，一无是处。除非你指引我的内心赐予我力量，否则我将变得不堪一击，无助绝望。”

主啊，你亘古不变，永远良善、公平和圣洁，要求万事都良善、公平和圣洁，且以智慧安排一切。但是我却容易倒退，难于进步，不能恒久如一，时常改变。然而，你若愿伸手助我，我必将改过自新；因为只有你能不借人力就帮助我，赐予我力量，我就不会多变无常，而是全身心归属于你，安息于你。尘世的任何人都无法安慰我，我若能完全舍弃人间一切的安乐，或是因为要得到热心，或是因为自己的需要而被迫追求你，我就可完全信赖你的恩典，愉快地享受你赐予的新安乐。

每当一切顺意时，我必将感谢你，因为一切都得益于你。在你面前，我不过是虚无，一个软弱无常的凡人罢了。因此，我有何值得夸耀的呢？有何令人尊敬的呢？难道夸自己一无所有？可见自夸毫无意义。空夸实在是罪恶，无聊之极，因为它使人不能获得真正的荣耀，却夺走了他天上的恩宠。所以只要他自鸣得意，就不会令你喜悦；只要他渴望受人称赞，就失去了真正的美德。真正的荣耀和喜悦在于令你荣耀而不是他自己；应因你的名喜乐，却不是因为自己的力量而沾沾自喜；除了因为你的缘故之外，不要因其他受造之物而高兴。愿颂赞归于你的名，而不要归于我；我将尊崇你的作为，而不是我自己的，我将称颂你神圣的美名，而不要与他人一起受称赞。只有你是我的荣耀，是我心中唯一的喜乐。我将时刻赞美你，以你为荣耀，至于我自己，除了我的弱点之外，别无可夸耀之处。让犹太人彼此求得荣耀，而我只寻求上帝赐予的荣耀。因为一切尘世的荣耀，一切暂时的荣誉，一切世俗的尊贵，若与你的永恒的荣耀相比，那不过是虚无和愚蠢罢了。该受赞美的圣三一神啊，慈爱的上帝啊，真理啊，愿赞誉、尊贵、权柄和荣耀都归于你，永无穷尽。

第四十一章　轻视尘世的虚荣

基督：我儿啊，你若看见别人享有荣誉，步步高升，你却受人轻视，你切勿因此沮丧悲伤。只要全心向主，世人的藐视就不会令你忧虑。

门徒：主啊，我们是盲目的，易受虚妄之事物的欺骗。如果我认真审视我的生活，就会发现没有什么人曾经得罪过我，我有何权利抱怨呢？但是，因为我常常得罪你，所以理应承受万人的攻击。所以，羞辱、藐视是我该得的，而不该让你承受。主啊，你应得到颂赞、尊贵和荣耀。除非我准备以愉快之心，乐意受人藐视、厌弃，甘心被人看为完全虚无，否则我就不能得到内心的平安和安稳，也不能得到精神上的启迪，而与你完全合一。

第四十二章　平安不取决于人

基督：我儿啊，你若将平安寄托在你所尊敬的人或你亲爱的朋友身上，你的心将漂泊不定。但是你若信赖永恒不变的真神，即使朋友离开你，或死亡，也不能使你忧伤。你对于朋友的感情应当建立在我的基础上，凡你所敬所爱的人，你都要因为我而爱他们。如果没有我，友谊就没有力量，也不会天长地久。凡不是我所结合的，他们的爱情必不能真纯。就你自己而言，你应当禁止一切友情，应甘心乐意避免一切人间的友谊。越靠近上帝的人，必在离开尘世时得到越长久的安乐。越轻视自己的人，在上帝面前就占据越高的地位。

凡自以为善的人，必得不着上帝的恩典，因为圣灵的恩惠只赐给谦卑的人。你若能完全克制自己，令自己不沉迷于尘世的爱恋，我必将丰盛的恩典赐予你。你若留恋受造之物，就必见不到造物者。无论何事你都要学会因为爱上帝而克制自己，那样你才能得到上帝的智慧。即使是极微小的事，你若沉溺于其中，不能自拔，它就能阻碍你达到至善之境，玷污你的灵魂。

第四十三章　警惕世俗虚空的知识

基督：我儿啊，不要让人间美丽巧妙的言语动摇你的心，因为上帝之国不在乎言语，只在乎主的权能。要谨记我的话，因为它能燃烧你的心，照亮你的思想，使你产生悔过之心，带去一切安慰。你学习上帝的话，且不能抱着彰显你的博学或智慧的目的。你要努力禁绝罪恶，因为这比你洞察复杂的问题更对你有益。

当你博览全书，涉猎广泛时，且要回归最本质的真理：我便是知识最初的源头，教会人类知识，使人类更加清澈醒悟，这是人所不能教的。凡是我所教的人就会很快地成为智者，在圣灵中进步。但是那些好奇人间奇异之事，却不在乎事奉的人只会遭受痛苦。时候将到，万师之师，天使之主，基督就要显现，他将聆听所有人的人生事迹，考察他们每一个人的良心。那时他要以烛光照遍耶路撒冷，黑暗中隐藏之事都要显露出来，众说纷纭也将终止。

我是启发谦卑之心的上帝，使谦卑的人豁然开朗，彻悟永恒的真理，胜过十年苦读。我的教诲默默无声，亦无纷纭众说，不求显达尊贵，亦不辩论困惑。我教导人轻视尘世之事，了解现世的困扰，寻求永恒之事，躲避荣誉，承受侮辱，寄一切希望于我，除我以外别无所求，且热爱我超乎一切之上。

曾经有一个人全心全意地爱我，学习我神圣的奥秘，富于激情地赞美我。比起这精深学习，舍弃一切让他获益更多。我对有的人教以平常之事，对另外的人又教以深奥之事，对有的人我用神迹和比喻，但对另外的人却用亮光揭示我的奥秘。

一本书只有一种声音，但读者所获，却各有不同。只有我教授真理，鉴察人心，启发行为，因人而异，公正审判每个人。

第四十四章　论避免分心被扰

基督：我儿啊，你必须对许多事情不屑一顾；所以，当视自己为已向世界死去的人，世俗亦已钉在十字架上。此外，你应掩耳不听外面的事，却只思考使你平安的事。不理会不愉快之事，不干涉人家的意见，远远胜过与人不断争辩。只要你享有上帝的恩典，全心全意执行主的旨意，和上帝之间有密切的关系，你就会很容易忍受表面的溃败。

门徒：主啊，我们怎么到了这个地步呢？我们哀伤尘世的损失，因为小利而劳碌奔走，但完全遗忘了灵性上的损失。我们只关注微小或甚至毫无益处的事，却忽视了那最要紧的事。如果人们的精力集中于外在的事物，还不迅速悔改，就将堕落其中。

第四十五章　切勿轻信他人

门徒：主啊，求你在患难之时帮助我，因为人的帮助是徒然的。我常常沮丧，以为我自己能找到忠实的朋友，但是，实际上并非如此。但有时我丝毫没有期待会找到忠实朋友，却出乎意料找到了。所以，信赖人都是徒然的，只有你才能拯救我，主啊。无论我们身处怎样的境遇，都将赞美你，主啊，我的上帝。

我们是软弱无常的，容易受欺。无论是谁都不能在一切事上谨慎地保护自己而不陷入迷惑。只有信赖你，专心寻求你的人，才不易于挫败。纵使他遭受苦难，他也不会深陷其中，你会第一时间拯救他，安慰他；因为你从不背弃信靠你的人，直到永远。共患难的朋友人间少有。但是主啊，只有你是永远忠诚的，无人能及。

圣徒（圣阿加莎）真是一个智者，他曾说“我的心坚定地扎根在基督里”。我若真能如此，就不会恐惧任何人，不为任何言语所动摇。我们不能预测未来之事，不能避免将来的祸患；而且，可预知的事情，我们常仍不免其害，何况那些防不胜防的事情，岂不更加重伤害我们么？对于不幸，为何我们不早作准备呢？为何我们如此信赖别人呢？我们不过是凡人，虽然我们被人称作天使。主啊，我可以信任谁呢？除了你之外，还有谁呢？你是真理，不欺人，也不受欺。但是人都说谎，软弱、无常、不堪一击，尤其是易于在言语上犯罪，所以，我们不应当轻信那些看似真实的事。

主警告我们当防备世人，真是何等的智慧。而且人的仇敌常常就是自己家里的人，所以若有人说“他在这儿”，或“他在那儿”，不要轻率相信。我的痛苦经验教导了我，我只希望自己认真克服愚昧。有人对我说：“记住，我所告诉你的，要言行谨慎。”于是我缄默地保守秘密，不料他自己却不能保守，他所要我守的秘密，把我和他自己一齐出卖了。主啊，求你保护我远离这种人，不让我落在他们的手中，更不让我自己犯同样的过失。求你使我在言语上诚实、恒毅，远离巧舌之人。我所恶于人的弱点，我应当竭尽全力使自己避免。

不论断他人，不轻信人言，也不散布消息，这是何等的美德和平安啊！知心之友不求多，却应时常寻求察看人心的上帝。我们不要人云亦云，却要祈祷我们一生，不论是内心的或是身外的，都照你的旨意成就。

轻视表象，改进生活，陶冶灵魂，而非迎合世俗，就必然获得上天的恩典。

许多人因为公众的名气、轻薄的赞扬而深受其害。只有在此转瞬即逝的一生静默保守，抵制诱惑和战争，才能获得至高无上的恩典。

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第五十一章　无力从事高级工作，就应承担谦卑的任务

基督：我儿啊，你不能自己总保持善良的愿望和沉思的乐境，你不时将会受原罪的驱使，堕落于低级的生活中，承受现世的苦楚重担。只要你是凡人，你就不能避免心中的忧愁。所以，你此生将时常由于肉体而悲哀，因为它使你不能完全致力于精神的生活和神圣的沉思。

这样的事一旦发生，最明智的办法便是立志谦卑，行善事，以善行来安慰自己，同时坚信等候我的来临和恩眷，耐心忍受心中的无聊枯燥，直到我再度来临，解除你一切的痛苦。那时你必将忘记之前的劳苦，获得内心的平安。我将在你面前揭示圣经的妙处，你的内心将遵行我的诫命，获得自由。那时你会说：“现世的苦楚，若比起将来要属于我们的荣耀，就不足介意了。”[12]

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第五十三章　上帝的恩典不赐予恋慕尘世的人

基督：我儿啊，我的恩典是宝贵的，它不容许尘世的安慰与享乐和它混为一谈。所以，你若愿得到此恩典，就必须先扫除遇到的所有障碍。要寻找一僻静之地，喜爱独居，不求与人谈话，却只向上帝热诚祷告，那样才能保持灵魂痛悔和良心纯洁。你要将全世界视为乌有，乐于事奉上帝，胜于一切。因为你不能一面事奉我，同时又享受尘世短暂的欢乐。你应该远离你的亲友，不依赖此世任何安慰。正是因此，使徒彼得曾劝告基督的信徒将自己视作现世的陌生人，如同客旅寄居一般。

人若丝毫不受尘世事物之累，他在面对死亡时，必定坦然无惧！灵命弱小的人不能明白丝毫无累的心境，追求名利的人也不能知道属灵的人的自由。但是人若想成为真正属灵的人，他就必须舍弃远亲和近邻，还要防备自己胜于防备他人。你若完全克服了自己，就会轻易掌控一切。完全的胜利就在于征服自己。能控制自己的人，能使理性胜于感性，并能理性地服从我，既能征服自己，又能掌控世界。

如果你想达到这样的境界，就应奋勇前行，根除恶源，舍弃一切隐藏的私欲和尘世的嗜好。因为这些万恶之根会引发其他恶行，我必须努力克服。只要此祸根得以清除，永恒的平安就将随之而来。但是极少人能完全向自己死去，或完全超越自己；因此他们仍无法自拔，也不能在灵性上超越自己。凡是愿意自由地追随我的人，他就必须禁绝一切败坏的情欲，克制对尘世的恋慕。

第五十四章　天恩与追求名利有别

基督：我儿啊，你要谨慎观察神恩与追求名利之间的区别，二者虽受不同原因驱动，表现却如此相近，即使是内心受圣灵光照的人，恐怕也很难辨别。事实上，凡人都渴望善行，他们在言语行为上也尽力表现德善，所以很多人被此表面的善行所欺骗。

人天性狡猾，许多人受其诱惑、欺骗，只求达到自己的目的。但是神恩却是纯朴的，绝无丝毫罪恶的倾向，亦无半点欺骗，他所做的一切仅仅是纯粹地爱上帝，他最终的目的就是在上帝那儿得到安息。

人性不愿克制情欲，不愿受人审视，不愿为人所胜，不愿服属于人。但是神恩却努力克制自己，抵抗肉欲，喜居人下，甘心服属于人。她并不期望享受自己的自由，却喜爱受管束，也不愿意统治其他人。只求常常活在上帝的旨意中，因为上帝的缘故，欣然俯伏于众人之下。

人性只求自己的利益，视他人为自己获利的工具；神恩却不图自己的利益和方便，讲求大众的利益。人性喜爱荣誉，喜欢受人崇拜；神恩忠实地将一切的荣耀都归于上帝。人性惧怕羞辱和藐视；神恩喜欢为耶稣的名受凌辱。人性喜欢空闲和肉体的安逸；神恩从不游手好闲，却欣然迎接工作的到来。

人性喜欢罕有美丽的事物，却憎恶粗贱的东西；神恩喜欢简单朴素的东西，不轻看粗恶，也不厌衣衫褴褛。人性看重尘世短暂的事物，获利则喜，损失则忧，不肯耐心忍受一点轻微的委屈；神恩看重永恒的事物，不受俗物之累，不因损失而忧，不以恶言而辱，因为一切财富与喜悦都已被安放于天堂，绝无损失之虑。

人性贪婪，乐于索取不思奉献，喜欢将外物占为己有；神恩仁慈良善，乐于助人，不求私利，且易于知足，又深知奉献比索取更为有福。人性使人倾向于外物——肉体、虚荣、心神不安；神恩将人引向上帝和善行，弃物、避世、恨恶肉体、禁绝交游，不与众人相见。人性渴望寻求外来的安慰，满足感官上的逸乐；神恩只追求上帝的安慰，喜悦至善而胜于一切有形之物。

人性要求凡事只为自己的私利，不做无报酬的事，一旦施恩于人，必求相应或更高的报酬，或是称赞恩惠。但是神恩不求尘世的回报，除了上帝之外，也不望得其他报酬，不求生活所必需之上的享受，只求能助其获得永恒的事物罢了。

人性喜欢呼朋唤友，夸耀自己尊贵的地位，和高贵的身份，谄媚权贵、逢迎富豪、称赞与自己相似的人。但是神恩甚至亲爱仇敌，不夸朋友众多和高贵的身份，若非具有相当的德行亦不足重。神恩爱贫嫌富，同情无辜，厌恶权贵，喜欢诚实人，疏远诡诈者。神恩常常鼓励善人更进一步，追求更大的恩典，像上帝的儿子一样，如此行善。

人性每遇困乏必生怨言；神恩却坚忍不拔，忍受贫穷。人性在凡事上都归于自己的利益，喜欢为自己解释争辩；神恩把一切归于所出的上帝，不将任何长处归于自己，不妄自尊大，不纷争，亦不固执己见。无论是内心还是知觉的力量，都归功于永恒的智慧和上帝的旨意。人性好奇，喜听新闻，爱出人头地，满足感官享受。人性渴望受人认可，赢得赞誉和敬仰。但是神恩却不关注新闻和稀奇的事，因为这一切都出于败坏的旧人，深知世上没有新奇而恒久不变的事。

神恩教人如何禁绝感官，避免自满虚夸；如何谦卑地隐匿值得称羡的事；如何在所有的事物和知识中，求得好结果；如何使尊贵、赞誉归于上帝。神恩不愿受人称赞，只求上帝在他自己的恩赐上受称颂，因为上帝所赐给人类的一切，皆出于纯粹的爱。

神恩是超然的光，是上帝的特别恩赐，是被选召者的记号，也是救赎的凭据，它使人脱离尘世，专爱天上的事物，脱离肉体，变成属灵的人。因此，人性愈受克制，神恩就愈加丰满，这样，内心每日领受上帝的新恩，每日都成为更像上帝形象的人。

第五十五章　论人性的堕落与神恩的力量

门徒：主啊，我的上帝，你曾照着你自己的形象和喜好创造了我，又赐予我得救所必需的恩典，使我可以胜过诱我犯罪堕落的本性。我感觉到在我肉体中，犯罪的冲动与内心的原则格格不入，常常把我掳去服从肉体的情欲，我实在无法抵抗情欲，除非你的圣恩浇灌我心，助我一臂之力。

主啊，我需要你浩大的恩典，才能战胜那自幼就倾向于罪恶的本性。因为自从始祖亚当之日起，人性就堕落，因罪而败坏，惩罚留给了全人类，所以你原本所创造的至善正直的人性，现在却变成堕落软弱的恶性了，因为一旦被遗留下来，就倾向于深陷罪恶。仅存的能力不过是炉灰中的星星之火罢了。但这能力便是天赋的理性，它虽然受黑暗的蒙蔽，仍具有鉴别真伪善恶的能力。但是它力量微弱，不能实行它所认可的善行，也无法享受真理的全部光明，或是他自身的健全发展。

主啊，我的上帝，当我要内心随从你的戒律，深知你的诫命乃是良善、公义、圣洁，既憎恶罪恶，又避免犯罪，但是我的肉体仍履行了犯罪的律法，理性服从了感性。所以，当我立志为善时，却发现自己无力遵行。我常常立志做许多善事，但是因为缺乏神恩相助来克服我的弱点，任何轻微的阻力，都令我沮丧挫败。所以，我虽然知道完善的路，也清楚地看见我应该做什么，但是因为受着堕落的本性所压制，在完善的道路上步履维艰。

主啊，一旦开始，持守和完善一件善事，我是多么急需你的恩典啊！若没有你的恩典，我将一无所成；但若是在你里面，得到你的恩典，一切将皆有可能。啊，真正的天恩啊，没有你，我们的德行毫无价值，本性的秉赋亦微不足道。主啊，没有你的恩典，任何艺术、财富、美丽、力量、聪明、才辩，都不值一提。因本性的秉赋为善人恶人所共有，但是恩典和爱心，却是赐予承蒙你选召的人的特殊恩典，凡带着这尊贵标记的人，就配享受永生。恩典如此神圣，若没有它，说预言，行神迹，以及高级的思考，都将毫无价值。若没有爱和恩典，即使有信心、希望，以及其他的德行，也必得不到你的喜悦。

最神圣的恩典啊，它使心灵贫穷的人在道德上富足，使物质上富足的人心中谦卑。求你降临我心，让你的安慰充满我心，否则，我的灵魂将因内心的疲乏而枯萎。我恳求你，主啊，使我在你面前得此恩典，因为你的恩典足够我享用，纵使我得不到本性所欲望的事物，只要你的恩典与我同在，无论承受多少诱惑困苦，我都将无所畏惧。

你的恩典便是我的力量，我的导师，我的帮助。它比一切仇敌更强大，比一切智者更聪慧。你的恩典是真理的主人，教规的导师，内心的曙光，痛苦的安慰，它能驱除忧愁，赶走惧怕，培育忠心，激励奉献。如果没有恩典，我只是枯干的枝子，不结果子的树，只配为人所遗弃。所以，主啊，愿你的恩典常常指引我，跟随我，使我不断地献身善事，奉你的儿子耶稣基督之名。

阿们。

……

第五十七章　凡事不必沮丧

基督：我儿，在患难时的忍耐和谦卑，比在顺境中的快慰和热心，更能让我喜悦。你为什么因为微小的困难就这样忧愁呢？即使比这更大的灾祸，你也应该不为所动。随它去吧。它并非你初次的错误，也不是新奇的事。你若活得长久，它也不会是最后一次。在没有遭遇苦难时，你是勇敢无畏的。你能够劝勉他人，但是当患难忽然临到你的门口时，你自己的智慧和力量，却不见踪影。所以你要注意你自己的弱点，这弱点你常常可以从小事上体会到。然而，这些锻炼会令你受益匪浅。

让挫败感尽可能远离你的心，一旦遇到困扰，不要因它沮丧失望，驻足不前。你若不能欣然领受，至少也要勇敢担当。即使你被迫忍受，愤愤不平，也要克制自己，切勿让怒言出口，伤害基督的孩子们。你的愤怒很快就将平息，你内心的愁苦亦将因神恩重返而化为甘甜。主说：“我是活着的，随时准备帮助你，赐予你比之前更大的安慰，只要你信赖我，热心地向我祈求。”

你要心存善念，坚定决心克服更大的考验。虽然你觉得常常受苦受试探，但是这一切对你并非损失。你是人，不是上帝；你是人类，不是天使。你怎能期望永远保持德行不受诱惑呢？这对于曾经堕落的天使和乐园中的始祖都不可能。我是上帝，我将赐予绝望的人们救治与安慰，赐予承认自身弱点的人们，神圣与荣耀。

门徒：主啊，你的话应受赞美，它比蜂蜜和蜂房更甘甜纯美。若非你用你的话安慰我，我将怎样渡过这受难忧苦的日子呢？只要我最终得到天堂的救赎，这般痛苦又算得了什么呢？求你赐我善终，赐予我脱离尘世的极乐之路。我的上帝啊，不要忘记我，指引我走向天国的正路。阿们。

————————————————————

[1] 《旧约·出埃及记》第20章第19节。——译注

[2] 《新约·以赛亚书》第23章第4节。——译注

[3] 《旧约·诗篇》第37章第4节。——译者注

[4] 《新约·约翰福音》第14章第27节。——译者注

[5] 《新约·马太福音》第6章第34节。——译者注

[6] 《新约·约翰福音》第15章第9节。——译者注

[7] 《旧约·诗篇》第55章第6节。——译者注

[8] 参见《新约·约翰福音》第11章。——译者注

[9] 参见《旧约·约书亚记》第9章。——译者注

[10] 《新约·马太福音》第26章第41节。——译者注

[11] 《旧约·诗篇》第8章第4节。——译者注

[12] 《新约·罗马书》第8章第18节。——译者注

Thomas à Kempis

The Inner Life

TRANSLATED BY LEO SHERLEY-PRICE

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

BOOK ONE

Counsels on the Spiritual Life

CHAPTER 1

On the Imitation of Christ

'He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness,' says Our Lord.

In these words Christ counsels us to follow His life and way if we desire true enlightenment and freedom from all blindness of heart. Let the life of Jesus Christ, then, be our first consideration.

The teaching of Jesus far transcends all the teachings of the Saints, and whosoever has His spirit will discover concealed in it heavenly manna. But many people, although they often hear the Gospel, feel little desire to follow it, because they lack the spirit of Christ. Whoever desires to understand and take delight in the words of Christ must strive to conform his whole life to Him.

Of what use is it to discourse learnedly on the Trinity, if you lack humility and therefore displease the Trinity? Lofty words do not make a man just or holy; but a good life makes him dear to God. I would far rather feel contrition than be able to define it. If you knew the whole Bible by heart, and all the teachings of the philosophers, how would this help you without the grace and love of God? 'Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity,' except to love God and serve Him alone. And this is supreme wisdom - to despise the world, and draw daily nearer the kingdom of heaven.

It is vanity to solicit honours, or to raise oneself to high station. It is vanity to be a slave to bodily desires, and to crave for things which bring certain retribution. It is vanity to wish for long life, if you care little for a good life. It is vanity to give thought only to this present life, and to care nothing for the life to come. It is vanity to love things that so swiftly pass away, and not to hasten onwards to that place where everlasting joy abides.

Keep constantly in mind the saying, 'The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.' Strive to withdraw your heart from the love of visible things, and direct your affections to things invisible. For those who follow only their natural inclinations defile their conscience, and lose the grace of God.

CHAPTER 2

On Personal Humility

Everyone naturally desires knowledge, but of what use is knowledge itself without the fear of God? A humble countryman who serves God is more pleasing to Him than a conceited intellectual who knows the course of the stars, but neglects his own soul. A man who truly knows himself realizes his own worthlessness, and takes no pleasure in the praises of men. Did I possess all knowledge in the world, but had no love, how would this help me before God, who will judge me by my deeds?

Restrain an inordinate desire for knowledge, in which is found much anxiety and deception. Learned men always wish to appear so, and desire recognition of their wisdom. But there are many matters, knowledge of which brings little or no advantage to the soul. Indeed, a man is unwise if he occupies himself with any things save those that further his salvation. A spate of words does nothing to satisfy the soul, but a good life refreshes the mind, and a clean conscience brings great confidence in God.

The more complete and excellent your knowledge, the more severe will be God's judgement on you, unless your life be the more holy. Therefore, do not be conceited of any skill or knowledge you may possess, but respect the knowledge that is entrusted to you. If it seems to you that you know a great deal and have wide experience in many fields, yet remember that there are many matters of which you are ignorant. So do not be conceited, but confess your ignorance. Why do you wish to esteem yourself above others, when there are many who are wiser and more perfect in the Law of God? If you desire to know or learn anything to your advantage, then take delight in being unknown and unregarded.

A true understanding and humble estimate of oneself is the highest and most valuable of all lessons. To take no account of oneself, but always to think well and highly of others is the highest wisdom and perfection. Should you see another person openly doing evil, or carrying out a wicked purpose, do not on that account consider yourself better than him, for you cannot tell how long you will remain in a state of grace. We are all frail; consider none more frail than yourself.

CHAPTER 3

On the Teaching of Truth

Happy the man who is instructed by Truth itself, not by signs and passing words, but as It is in itself. Our own conjectures and observations often mislead us, and we discover little. Of what value are lengthy controversies on deep and obscure matters, when it is not by our knowledge of such things that we shall at length be judged? It is supreme folly to neglect things that are useful and vital, and deliberately turn to curious and harmful things. Truly, 'we have eyes and see not': for what concern to us are such things as genera and species?

Those to whom the Eternal Word speaks are delivered from uncertainty. From one Word proceed all things, and all things tell of Him; it is He, the Author of all things, who speaks to us. Without Him no one can understand or judge aright. But the man to whom all things are one, who refers everything to One, and who sees everything as in One, is enabled to remain steadfast in heart, and abide at peace with God.

O God, living Truth, unite me to Yourself in everlasting love! Often I am wearied by all I read and hear. In You alone is all that I desire and long for. Therefore let all teachers keep silence, and let all creation be still before you; do You, Lord, speak alone.

The more closely a man is united to You in pure simplicity, the more varied and profound the matters which he understands without effort, for he receives light and understanding from heaven. A pure, simple, and stable man, however busy and occupied, does not become distracted thereby, for he does all things to the glory of God, and strives to preserve himself free from all self-seeking. And what harms and hinders you more than the undisciplined passions of your own heart? A good and devout man firstly sets in order in his mind whatever tasks he has in hand, and never allows them to lead him into occasions of sin, but humbly subjects them to the dictates of a sound judgement. Who has a fiercer struggle than he who strives to conquer himself? Yet this must be our chief concern - to conquer self, and by daily growing stronger than self, to advance in holiness.

All perfection in this life is accompanied by a measure of imperfection, and all our knowledge contains an element of obscurity. A humble knowledge of oneself is a surer road to God than a deep searching of the sciences. Yet learning itself is not to be blamed, nor is the simple knowledge of anything whatsoever to be despised, for true learning is good in itself and ordained by God; but a good conscience and a holy life are always to be preferred. But because many are more eager to acquire much learning than to live well, they often go astray and bear little or no fruit. If only such people were as diligent in the uprooting of vices and the planting of virtues as they are in the debating of problems, there would not be so many evils and scandals among the people, nor such laxity in communities. At the Day of Judgement, we shall not be asked what we have read, but what we have done; not how eloquently we have spoken, but how holily we have lived. Tell me, where are now all those Masters and Doctors whom you knew so well in their lifetime in the full flower of their learning? Other men now sit in their seats, and they are hardly ever called to mind. In their lifetime they seemed of great account, but now no one speaks of them.

Oh, how swiftly the glory of the world passes away! If only the lives of these men had been as admirable as their learning, their study and reading would have been to good purpose! But how many in this world care little for the service of God, and perish in their vain learning. Because they choose to be great rather than humble, they perish in their own conceit. He is truly great, who is great in the love of God. He is truly great, who is humble in mind, and regards earths highest honours as nothing. He is truly wise who counts all earthly things as dung, in order that he may win Christ. And he is truly learned, who renounces his own will for the will of God.

CHAPTER 4

On Prudence in Action

We should not believe every word and suggestion, but should carefully and unhurriedly consider all things in accordance with the will of God. For such is the weakness of human nature, alas, that evil is often more readily believed and spoken of another than good. But perfect men do not easily believe every tale that is told them, for they know that man's nature is prone to evil, and his words to deception.

It is wise not to be over hasty in action, nor to cling stubbornly to our own opinions. It is wise also not to believe all that we hear, nor to hasten to report to others what we hear or believe. Take counsel of a wise and conscientious man, and seek to be guided by one who is better than yourself, rather than to follow your own opinions. A good life makes a man wise towards God, and gives him experience in many things. The more humble and obedient to God a man is, the more wise and at peace he will be in all that he does.

CHAPTER 5

On Reading the Holy Scriptures

In the holy Scriptures, truth is to be looked for rather than fair phrases. All sacred scriptures should be read in the spirit in which they were written. In them, therefore, we should seek food for our souls rather than subtleties of speech, and we should as readily read simple and devout books as those that are lofty and profound. Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small, but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, 'Who said this?' but pay attention to what is said.

Men pass away, but the word of the Lord endures for ever.

God speaks to us in different ways, and is no respecter of persons. But curiosity often hinders us in the reading of the Scriptures, for we try to examine and dispute over matters that we should pass over and accept in simplicity. If you desire to profit, read with humility, simplicity, and faith, and have no concern to appear learned. Ask questions freely, and listen in silence to the words of the Saints; hear with patience the parables of the fathers, for they are not told without good cause.

CHAPTER 6

On Control of the Desires

Whenever a man desires anything inordinately, at once he becomes restless. A proud and avaricious man is never at rest; but a poor and humble man enjoys the riches of peace. A man who is not yet perfectly dead to self is easily tempted, and is overcome even in small and trifling things. And he who is weak in spirit, and still a prey to the senses and bodily passions, can only with great difficulty free himself from worldly lusts. Therefore he is sad when he does so withdraw himself, and is quickly angered when anyone opposes him. Yet, if he obtains what he desires, his conscience is at once stricken by remorse, because he has yielded to his passion, which in no way helps him in his search for peace. True peace of heart can be found only by resisting the passions, not by yielding to them. There is no peace in the heart of a worldly man, who is entirely given to outward affairs; but only in a fervent, spiritual man.

CHAPTER 7

On Avoiding Vain Hope and Conceit

Whoever puts his confidence in men or in any creature is very foolish. Do not be ashamed to be the servant of others for love of Jesus Christ, and to appear poor in this world. Do not trust in yourself, but put your whole confidence in God. Do what you are able, and God will bless your good intention. Do not trust in your own knowledge, nor in the cleverness of any man living, but rather in the grace of God, who aids the humble, and humbles the proud.

Do not boast of your possessions, if you have any, nor of the influence of your friends; but glory in God, who gives all things and desires above all things to give you Himself. Do not be vain about your beauty or strength of body, which a little sickness can mar and disfigure. Take no pleasure in your own ability and cleverness, lest you offend God, who has Himself bestowed on you all your natural gifts.

Do not esteem yourself better than others, lest you appear worse in the eyes of God, who alone knows the heart of man. Do not be proud of your good deeds, for God does not judge as men; and what delights men often displeases God. If you have any good qualities, remember that others have more; and so remain humble. It does you no harm when you esteem all others better than yourself, but it does you great harm when you esteem yourself above others. True peace dwells only in the heart of the humble: but the heart of the proud is ever full of pride and jealousy.

[…]

CHAPTER 10

On Avoiding Talkativeness

Avoid public gatherings as much as possible, for the discussion of worldly affairs becomes a great hindrance, even though it be with the best of intentions, for we are quickly corrupted and ensnared by vanity. Often I wish I had remained silent, and had not been among men. But why is it that we are so ready to chatter and gossip with each other, when we so seldom return to silence without some injury to our conscience? The reason why we are so fond of talking with each other is that we think to find consolation in this manner, and to refresh a heart wearied with many cares. And we prefer to speak and think of those things which we like and desire, or of those which we dislike. Alas, however, all this is often to no purpose, for this outward consolation is no small obstacle to inner and divine consolation.

We must watch and pray, that our time may not be spent fruitlessly. When it is right and proper to speak, speak to edify. Evil habits and neglect of spiritual progress are the main cause of our failure to guard the tongue. But devout conversation on spiritual matters greatly furthers our spiritual progress, especially with those who are heart and soul with us in the service of God.

CHAPTER 11

On Peace, and Spiritual Progress

We could enjoy much peace if we did not busy ourselves with what other people say and do, for this is no concern of ours. How can anyone remain long at peace who meddles in other people's affairs; who seeks occasion to gad about, and who makes little or no attempt at recollection? Blessed are the single-hearted, for they shall enjoy much peace.

How were some of the Saints so perfect and contemplative? It is because they strove with all their might to mortify in themselves all worldly desires, and could thus cling to God in their inmost heart, and offer themselves freely and wholly to Him. But we are held too firmly by our passions, and are too much concerned with the passing affairs of the world. We seldom completely master a single fault, and have little zeal for our daffy progress; therefore we remain spiritually cold or tepid.

If only we were completely dead to self, and free from inner conflict, we could savour spiritual things, and win experience of heavenly contemplation. But the greatest, and indeed the whole obstacle to our advance is that we are not free from passions and lusts, nor do we strive to follow the perfect way of the Saints. But when we encounter even a little trouble, we are quickly discouraged, and turn to human comfort.

If we strove to stand firm in the struggle like men of valour, we should not fail to experience the help of our Lord from heaven. For He is ever ready to help all who fight, trusting in His grace; He also affords us occasions to fight that we may conquer. If we rely only on the outward observances of religion, our devotion will rapidly wane. But let us lay the axe to the root, that, being cleansed from our passions, we may possess our souls in peace.

If each year we would root out one fault, we should soon become perfect. But, alas, the opposite is often the case, that we were better and purer in the beginning of our conversion than after many years of our profession. Our zeal and virtue should grow daily; but it is now held to be a fine thing if a man retains even a little of his first fervour. If only we would do a little violence to ourselves at first, we would later be enabled to do everything easily and gladly.

It is hard to give up old habits, and harder still to conquer our own wills. But if you cannot overcome in small and easy things, how will you succeed in greater? Resist your evil inclinations in the beginning, and break off evil habits, lest they gradually involve you in greater difficulties. Oh, if you could only know how great a peace for yourself and how great a joy for your fellows your good endeavour would win, you would have greater care for your spiritual progress.

CHAPTER 12

On the Uses of Adversity

It is good for us to encounter troubles and adversities from time to time, for trouble often compels a man to search his own heart. It reminds him that he is an exile here, and that he can put his trust in nothing in this world. It is good, too, that we sometimes suffer opposition, and that men think ill of us and misjudge us, even when we do and mean well. Such things are an aid to humility, and preserve us from pride and vainglory. For we more readily turn to God as our inward witness, when men despise us and think no good of us.

A man should therefore place such complete trust in God, that he has no need of comfort from men. When a good man is troubled, tempted, or vexed by evil thoughts, he comes more clearly than ever to realize his need of God, without whom he can do nothing good. Then, as he grieves and laments his lot, he turns to prayer amid his misfortunes. He is weary of life, and longs for death to release him, that he may be dissolved, and be with Christ. It is then that he knows with certainty that there can be no complete security nor perfect peace in his life.

CHAPTER 13

On Resisting Temptations

So long as we live in this world, we cannot remain without trial and temptation: as Job says, 'Man's life on earth is a warfare.' We must therefore be on guard against temptations, and watchful in prayer, that the Devil find no means of deceiving us; for he never rests, but prowls around seeking whom he may devour. No one is so perfect and holy that he is never tempted, and we can never be secure from temptation.

Although temptations are so troublesome and grievous, yet they are often profitable to us, for by them we are humbled, cleansed, and instructed. All the Saints endured many trials and temptations, and profited by them; but those who could not resist temptations became reprobate, and fell away. There is no Order so holy, nor place so secluded, where there are no troubles and temptations.

No man can be entirely free from temptation so long as he lives; for the source of temptation lies within our own nature, since we are born with an inclination towards evil. When one temptation or trial draws to a close, another takes its place; and we shall always have something to fight, for man has lost the blessing of original happiness. Many try to escape temptations, only to encounter them more fiercely, for no one can win victory by flight alone; it is only by patience and true humility that we can grow stronger than all our foes.

The man who only avoids the outward occasions of evil, but fails to uproot it in himself, will gain little advantage. Indeed, temptations will return upon him the sooner, and he will find himself in a worse state than before. Little by little and by patient endurance you will overcome them by God's help, better than by your own violence and importunity. Seek regular advice in temptation, and never deal harshly with those who are tempted, but give them such encouragement as you would value yourself.

The beginning of all evil temptation is an unstable mind and lack of trust in God. Just as a ship without a helm is driven to and fro by the waves, so a careless man, who abandons his proper course, is tempted in countless ways. Fire tempers steel, and temptation the just man. We often do not know what we can bear, but temptation reveals our true nature. We need especially to be on our guard at the very onset of temptation, for then the Enemy may be more easily overcome, if he is not allowed to enter the gates of the mind: he must be repulsed at the threshold, as soon as he knocks. Thus the poet Ovid writes, 'Resist at the beginning; the remedy may come too late.' For first there comes into the mind an evil thought: next, a vivid picture: then delight, and urge to evil, and finally consent. In this way the Enemy gradually gains complete mastery, when he is not resisted at first. And the longer a slothful man delays resistance, the weaker he becomes, and the stronger his enemy grows against him.

Some people undergo their heaviest temptations at the beginning of their conversion; some towards the end of their course; others are greatly troubled all their lives; while there are some whose temptations are but light. This is in accordance with the wisdom and justice of God's ordinance, who weighs the condition and merits of every man, and disposes all things for the salvation of those whom He chooses.

We must not despair, therefore, when we are tempted, but earnestly pray God to grant us his help in every need. For, as Saint Paul says, 'With the temptation, God will provide a way to overcome it, that we may be able to bear it.' So, let us humble ourselves under the hand of God in every trial and trouble, for He will save and raise up the humble in spirit. In all these trials, our progress is tested; in them great merit may be secured, and our virtue become evident. It is no great matter if we are devout and fervent when we have no troubles; but if we show patience in adversity, we can make great progress in virtue. Some are spared severe temptations, but are overcome in the lesser ones of every day, in order that they may be humble, and learn not to trust in themselves, but to recognize their frailty.

CHAPTER 14

On Avoiding Rash Judgements

Judge yourself, and beware of passing judgement on others. In judging others, we expend our energy to no purpose; we are often mistaken, and easily sin. But if we judge ourselves, our labour is always to our profit. Our judgement is frequently influenced by our personal feelings, and it is very easy to fail in right judgement when we are inspired by private motives. Were God Himself the sole and constant object of our desire, we should not be so easily distressed when our opinions are contra dicted.

Very often some inner impulse or outward circum stance draws us to follow it, while many people are always acting in their own interest, although they are not conscious of it. Such appear to enjoy complete tranquillity of mind so long as events accord with their wishes, but at once become distressed and disconsolate when things fall out otherwise. Similarly, differences of opinions and beliefs only too often give rise to quarrels among friends and neighbours, and even between religious and devout people.

Old habits are hard to break, and no one is easily weaned from his own opinions; but if you rely on your own reasoning and ability rather than on the virtue of submission to Jesus Christ, you will but seldom and slowly attain wisdom. For God wills that we become perfectly obedient to Himself, and that we transcend mere reason on the wings of a burning love for Him.

CHAPTER 15

On Deeds Inspired by Love

No motive, even that of affection for anyone, can justify the doing of evil. But to help someone in need, a good work may sometimes be left, or a better undertaken in its place. For in so doing, the good work is not lost, but changed for what is better. Without love, the outward work is of no value; but whatever is done out of love, be it never so little, is wholly fruitful. For God regards the greatness of the love that prompts a man, rather than the greatness of his achievement.

Whoever loves much, does much. Whoever does a thing well, does much. And he does well, who serves the community before his own interests. Often an apparently loving action really springs from worldly motives; for natural inclination, self-will, hope of reward, and our own self-interest will seldom be entirely absent.

Whoever is moved by true and perfect love is never self-seeking, but desires only that God's glory may be served in all things. He envies none, for he seeks no pleasure for himself, nor does he act for self-gratification, but desires above all good things to merit the blessing of God. All good he ascribes not to men, but to God, from whom all things proceed as from their source, and in whom all the Saints enjoy perfection and peace. Oh, if only a man had a spark of true love in his heart, he would know for certain that all earthly things are full of vanity.

CHAPTER 16

On Bearing with the Faults of Others

Whatever a man is unable to correct in himself or in others, he should bear patiently until God ordains otherwise. Consider, it is perhaps better thus, for the testing of our patience, without which our merits are of little worth. Whenever such obstacles confront you, pray to God that He may grant you His help, and give you grace to endure them in good heart.

If anyone who has been once or twice warned remains obdurate, do not argue with him, but commit all things to God, that His will may be done, and His Name hallowed in all His servants; for He knows well how to bring good out of evil. Strive to be patient; bear with the faults and frailties of others, for you, too, have many faults which others have to bear. If you cannot mould yourself as you would wish, how can you expect other people to be entirely to your liking? For we require other people to be perfect, but do not correct our own faults.

We wish to see others severely reprimanded; yet we are unwilling to be corrected ourselves. We wish to restrict the liberty of others, but are not willing to be denied anything ourselves. We wish others to be bound by rules, yet we will not let ourselves be bound. It is amply evident, therefore, that we seldom consider our neighbour in the same light as ourselves. Yet, if all men were perfect, what should we have to bear with in others for Christ's sake?

Now, God has thus ordered things that we may learn to bear one another's burdens; for there is no man without his faults, none without his burden. None is sufficient in himself; none is wise in himself; therefore we must support one another, comfort, help, teach, and advise one another. Times of trouble best discover the true worth of a man; they do not weaken him, but show his true nature.

[…]

CHAPTER 23

A Meditation on Death

Very soon the end of your life will be at hand: consider, therefore, the state of your soul. Today a man is here; tomorrow he is gone. And when he is out of sight, he is soon out of mind. Oh, how dull and hard is the heart of man, which thinks only of the present, and does not provide against the future! You should order your every deed and thought, as though today were the day of your death. Had you a good conscience, death would hold no terrors for you; even so, it were better to avoid sin than to escape death. If you are not ready to die today, will tomorrow find you better prepared? Tomorrow is uncertain; and how can you be sure of tomorrow?

Of what use is a long life, if we amend so little? Alas, a long life often adds to our sins rather than to our virtue!

Would to God that we might spend a single day really well! Many recount the years since their conversion, but their lives show little sign of improvement. If it is dreadful to die, it is perhaps more dangerous to live long. Blessed is the man who keeps the hour of his death always in mind, and daily prepares himself to die. If you have ever seen anyone die, remember that you, too, must travel the same road.

Each morning remember that you may not live until evening; and in the evening, do not presume to promise yourself another day. Be ready at all times, and so live that death may never find you unprepared. Many die suddenly and unexpectedly; for at an hour that we do not know the Son of Man will come. When your last hour strikes, you will begin to think very differently of your past life, and grieve deeply that you have been so careless and remiss.

Happy and wise is he who endeavours to be during his life as he wishes to be found at his death. For these things will afford us sure hope of a happy death; perfect contempt of the world; fervent desire to grow in holiness; love of discipline; the practice of penance; ready obedience; self-denial; the bearing of every trial for the love of Christ. While you enjoy health, you can do much good; but when sickness comes, little can be done. Few are made better by sickness, and those who make frequent pilgrimages seldom acquire holiness by so doing.

Do not rely on friends and neighbours, and do not delay the salvation of your soul to some future date, for men will forget you sooner than you think. It is better to make timely provision and to acquire merit in this life, than to depend on the help of others. And if you have no care for your own soul, who will have care for you in time to come? The present time is most precious; now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. It is sad that you do not employ your time better, when you may win eternal life hereafter. The time will come when you will long for one day or one hour in which to amend; and who knows whether it will be granted?

Dear soul, from what peril and fear you could free yourself, if you lived in holy fear, mindful of your death. Apply yourself so to live now, that at the hour of death, you may be glad and unafraid. Learn now to die to the world, that you may begin to live with Christ. Learn now to despise all earthly things, that you may go freely to Christ. Discipline your body now by penance, that you may enjoy a sure hope of salvation.

Foolish man, how can you promise yourself a long life, when you are not certain of a single day? How many have deceived themselves in this way, and been snatched unexpectedly from life! You have often heard how this man was slain by the sword; another drowned; how another fell from a high place and broke his neck; how another died at table; how another met his end in play. One perishes by fire, another by the sword, another from disease, another at the hands of robbers. Death is the end of all men; and the life of man passes away suddenly as a shadow.

Who will remember you when you are dead? Who will pray for you? Act now, dear soul; do all you can; for you know neither the hour of your death, nor your state after death. While you have time, gather the riches of everlasting life. Think only of your salvation, and care only for the things of God. Make friends now, by honouring the Saints of God and by following their example, that when this life is over, they may welcome you to your eternal home.

Keep yourself a stranger and pilgrim upon earth, to whom the affairs of this world are of no concern. Keep your heart free and lifted up to God, for here you have no abiding city. Daily direct your prayers and longings to Heaven, that at your death your soul may merit to pass joyfully into the presence of God.

[…]

BOOK TWO

Counsels on the Inner Life

CHAPTER 1

On the Inner Life

'The Kingdom of God is within you,' says Our Lord. Turn to the Lord with all your heart, forsake this sorry world, and your soul shall find rest. Learn to turn from worldly things, and give yourself to spiritual things, and you will see the Kingdom of God come within you. For the Kingdom is peace and joy in the Holy Spirit; these are not granted to the wicked. Christ will come to you, and impart his consolations to you, if you prepare a worthy dwelling for Him in your heart. All true glory and beauty is within, and there He delights to dwell. He often visits the spiritual man, and holds sweet discourse with him, granting him refreshing grace, great peace, and friendship exceeding all expectation.

Come then, faithful soul; prepare your heart for your Divine Spouse, that He may deign to come to you and dwell with you. For He says, 'If any man love Me, he will keep My word; and We will come and make our abode with him.' Therefore welcome Christ, and deny entrance to all others. When you possess Christ, you are amply rich, and He will satisfy you. He will dispose and provide for you faithfully in everything, so that you need not rely on man. For men soon change and fail you; but Christ abides for ever, and stands firmly by you to the end.

Never place your whole trust and reliance in weak and mortal man, however helpful and dear to you he may be; nor should you grieve overmuch if sometimes he opposes and contradicts you. Those who take your part today may tomorrow oppose you; for men are as changeable as the weather. Put your whole trust in God; direct your worship and love to Him alone. He will defend you, and will dispose all things for the best. Here you have no abiding city, and wherever you may be, you are a stranger and pilgrim; you will never enjoy peace until you become inwardly united to Christ.

What do you seek here, since this world is not your resting place? Your true home is in Heaven; therefore remember that all the things of this world are transitory. All things are passing, and yourself with them. See that you do not cling to them, lest you become entangled and perish with them. Let all your thoughts be with the Most High, and direct your humble prayers unceasingly to Christ. If you cannot contemplate high and heavenly things, take refuge in the Passion of Christ, and love to dwell within His Sacred Wounds. For if you devoutly seek the Wounds of Jesus and the precious marks of His Passion, you will find great strength in all troubles. And if men despise you, you will care little, having small regard for the words of your detractors.

Christ Himself was despised by men, and in His direst need was abandoned by his friends and acquaintances to the insults of His enemies. Christ was willing to suffer and to be despised; and do you presume to complain? Christ had enemies and slanderers; and do you expect all men to be your friends and benefactors? How will your patience be crowned, if you are not willing to endure hardship? Suffer with Christ, and for Christ, if you wish to reign with Christ.

Had you but once entered perfectly into the Heart of Jesus, and tasted something of His burning love, you would care nothing for your own gain or loss; for the love of Jesus causes a man to regard himself very humbly. The true, inward lover of Jesus and the Truth, who is free from inordinate desires, can turn freely to God, rise above self, and joyfully rest in God.

He who knows all things at their true worth, and not as they are said or reputed to be, is truly wise, for his knowledge comes from God, and not from man. He who walks by an inner light, and is not unduly influenced by outward things, needs no special time or place for his prayers. For the man of inner life easily recollects himself, since he is never wholly immersed in outward affairs. Therefore his outward occupations and needful tasks do not distract him, and he adjusts himself to things as they come. The man whose inner life is well-ordered and disposed is not troubled by the strange and perverse ways of others; for a man is hindered and distracted by such things only so far as he allows himself to be concerned by them.

If your inner life were rightly ordered and your heart pure, all things would turn to your good and advantage. As it is, you are often displeased and disturbed, because you are not yet completely dead to self, nor detached from all worldly things. Nothing defiles and ensnares the heart of man more than a selfish love of creatures. If you renounce all outward consolation, you will be able to contemplate heavenly things, and often experience great joy of heart.

CHAPTER 2

On Humble Submission to God

Do not be concerned overmuch who is with you or against you, but work and plan that God may be with you in all that you do. Keep a clean conscience, and God will mightily defend you; for whoever enjoys the protection of God cannot be harmed by the malice of man. If you learn to suffer in silence, you may be sure of receiving God's help. He knows the time and the way to deliver you; so trust yourself entirely to His care. God is strong to help you, and to free you from all confusion. It is often good for us that others know and expose our faults, for so may we be kept humble.

When a man humbly admits his faults, he soon appeases his fellows, and is reconciled to those whom he had offended. God protects and delivers a humble man; He loves and comforts him. To the humble He leans down and bestows great success, raising him from abasement to honour. To him He reveals His secrets, and lovingly calls and draws him to Himself. Even in the midst of trouble, the humble man remains wholly at peace, for he trusts in God, and not in the world. Do not consider yourself to have made any spiritual progress, unless you account yourself the least of all men.

CHAPTER 3

On the Good and Peaceful Man

Firstly, be peaceful yourself, and you will be able to bring peace to others. A man of peace does more good than a very learned man. A passionate man turns even good into evil, and readily listens to evil; but a good and peaceable man turns all things to good. He who is truly at peace thinks evil of no one; but he who is discontented and restless is tormented by suspicions beyond number. He has no peace in himself, nor will he allow others any peace. He often says what he ought not to say, and leaves undone what he should have done. He takes note how other people carry out their duties, but neglects his own. Therefore, before all else, attend diligently to your own affairs; then you may properly be concerned for your neighbour also.

You readily excuse and explain your own doings, but you will not accept the explanations of others. It would be more just to accuse yourself, and to excuse your fellows. If you wish others to bear with you, you must bear with them. See how far you still are from true charity and humility, which feels no anger nor indignation towards any save itself. It is no great matter to associate with the good and gentle, for this is naturally pleasant to everyone. All men are glad to live at peace, and prefer those who are of their own way of thinking. But to be able to live at peace among hard, obstinate, and undisciplined people and those who oppose us, is a great grace, and a most commendable and manly achievement.

There are some who remain at peace with themselves and also with others. And some neither have peace in themselves nor allow others to have peace. Such people are a trouble to others, and an even greater trouble to themselves. And there are some who are at peace with themselves, and who try to guide others into peace. But all our peace in this present life should depend on humble forbearance rather than on absence of adversity. He who knows the secret of endurance will enjoy the greatest peace. Such a one is conqueror of self, master of the world, a friend of Christ, and an heir of Heaven.

CHAPTER 4

On Purity of Mind and Simplicity of Purpose

There are two wings that raise a man above earthly things - simplicity and purity. Simplicity must inspire his purpose, and purity his affection. Simplicity reaches out after God; purity discovers and enjoys Him. No good deed will prove an obstacle to you if you are inwardly free from uncontrolled desires. And if you are free from uncontrolled desires, and seek nothing but the Will of God and the good of your neighbour, you will enjoy this inner freedom. If your heart be right, then every created thing will become for you a mirror of life and a book of holy teaching. For there is nothing created so small and mean that it does not reflect the goodness of God.

Were you inwardly good and pure, you would see and understand all things clearly and without difficulty. A pure heart penetrates both heaven and hell. As each man is in himself, so does he judge outward things. If there is any joy to be had in this world, the pure in heart most surely possess it; and if there is trouble and distress anywhere, the evil conscience most readily experiences it. Just as iron, when plunged into fire, loses its rust and becomes bright and glowing, so the man who turns himself wholly to God loses his sloth and becomes transformed into a new creature.

When a man begins to grow dull and lukewarm in spirit, even the smallest labour distresses him, and he eagerly welcomes any worldly comfort. But when he begins to overcome self and advance manfully in Gods way, then he regards as nothing those labours which he previously found so burdensome.

CHAPTER 5

On Knowing Ourselves

We may not trust overmuch in ourselves, for we often lack grace and understanding. There is little light in us, and even this we easily lose through carelessness. Moreover, we often do not realize how blind we are. We often do evil, and we do worse in excusing ourselves. Sometimes we are moved by passion, and mistake it for Zeal. We rebuke small faults in others, but overlook greater faults in ourselves. We are too quick to resent and feel what we suffer from others, but fail to consider how much others suffer from us. Whoever considers his own defects fully and honestly will find no reason to judge others harshly.

The spiritual man puts the care of his soul before all else; and whoever diligently attends to his own affairs is ready to keep silence about others. You will never become interior and devout unless you refrain from criticism of others, and pay attention to yourself. If you are wholly intent on God and yourself, you will be little affected by anything outside this. Where are you when you fail to attend to yourself? And when you have occupied yourself in countless affairs, what have you gained, if you have neglected your soul? If you really desire true peace and union with God, attend to yourself, and set aside all else.

Keep yourself free from all worldly entanglement, and you will make good progress; but if you set great value on any worldly things, it will prove a great obstacle. Let nothing be great, pleasant or desirable to you save God alone, and whatever comes of God. Regard as empty comfort all things that derive from creatures. The soul that loves God regards as worthless all things other than God. God alone is eternal and immeasurable, filling all things; He alone is the true comfort of the soul and joy of the heart.

CHAPTER 6

On the Joys of a Good Conscience

The glory of a good man is the witness of a good conscience. Preserve a quiet conscience, and you will always have joy. A quiet conscience can endure much, and remains joyful in all trouble, but an evil conscience is always fearful and uneasy. You may rest easy if your heart does not reproach you, and you are happy only when you have done right. The wicked never know true happiness, nor do they enjoy inward peace, for 'There is no peace for the wicked,' says the Lord. And although they say, 'We are at peace; no evil happens to us, and no one will dare to harm us,' yet God's anger will rise suddenly, all their works will be brought to nothing, and their plans perish.

To glory in suffering is not hard for one who truly loves God, for so to glory is to glory in the Cross of our Lord. Short-lived is the glory that is granted and received by men, and sorrow is ever its companion. The glory of good men is in their own conscience, not in the tongues of men. For the joy of the Saints is from God and in God, and their joy is in the truth. Whoever desires true and lasting glory cares nothing for worldly glory. And whoever craves worldly glory, or who does not at heart despise it, shows himself to have little love for the glory of heaven. Great tranquillity of heart is his who cares for neither praise nor blame.

The man who has a clean conscience rests easily content, and is at peace. You are none the holier for being praised, and none the worse for being blamed. You remain what you are, nor can you be accounted greater than you are in the sight of God. If you take heed to what you are inwardly, you will not mind what men say of you; for while man looks on outward appearance, God looks into your heart. Man sees your actions, but God your motives. The sign of a humble soul is always to be doing good, and to think little of oneself. To desire no comfort from creatures is a sign of great purity and inward faith.

When a man seeks no other witness but himself, he shows that he puts his whole trust in God. For, as Saint Paul says, 'Not he who commends himself is approved, but he whom God commends.' To live inwardly to God, and not to be bound by worldly affections, is the proper state of a spiritual man.

CHAPTER 7

On Loving Jesus above all Things

Blessed is he who understands what it is to love Jesus, and to despise himself for Jesus' sake. You must surrender all other love for His love, for Jesus desires to be loved alone, and above all things. The love of creatures is deceptive and unstable; the love of Jesus is faithful and enduring. Whoever clings to any creature will fall with its falling; but he who holds to Jesus shall stand firm for ever. Love Him, therefore, and keep Him as your friend; for when all others desert you, He will not abandon you, nor allow you to perish at the last. Whether you wish it or not, you must in the end be parted from them all.

Hold fast to Jesus, both in life and death, and trust yourself to His faithfulness, for He alone can aid you when all others fail. Your Beloved is of such a nature that He will not share your love with another; He desires your heart for Himself alone, and to reign there as a King on His throne. If you could empty your heart of all creatures, Jesus would delight to dwell with you. Whatever trust you place in men rather than in Jesus is almost wholly wasted. Do not trust or lean on a wind blown reed, for 'all flesh is as grass, and its glory will fall like the flower of the grass.'

If you look only to men's outward appearance, you will soon be deceived; for if you seek comfort or gain from others, you will often meet with loss. If you seek Jesus in all things, you will surely find Jesus. And if you seek yourself, you will surely find yourself, but only to your ruin. For a man who does not seek Jesus does himself greater hurt than the whole world and all his enemies could ever do him.

[…]

CHAPTER 12

On the Royal Road of the Holy Cross

'Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.' To many this saying of Jesus seems hard. But how much harder will it be to hear that word of doom, 'Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire'. For those who now cheerfully hear and obey the word of the Cross will not tremble to hear the sentence of eternal damnation. The sign of the Cross will appear in the heavens, when Our Lord comes as Judge. Then will all the servants of the Cross, who in their lives conformed themselves to the Crucified, stand with confidence before Christ their Judge.

Why, then, do you fear to take up the Cross, which is the road to the Kingdom? In the Cross is salvation; in the Cross is life; in the Cross is protection against our enemies; in the Cross is infusion of heavenly sweetness; in the Cross is strength of mind; in the Cross is joy of spirit; in the Cross is excellence of virtue; in the Cross is perfection of holiness. There is no salvation of soul, nor hope of eternal life, save in the Cross. Take up the Cross, therefore, and follow Jesus, and go forward into eternal life. Christ has gone before you, bearing His Cross; He died for you on the Cross, that you also may bear your cross, and desire to die on the cross with Him. For if you die with Him, you will also live with Him. And if you share His sufferings, you will also share His glory.

See how in the Cross all things consist, and in dying on it all things depend. There is no other way to life and to true inner peace, than the way of the Cross, and of daily self-denial. Go where you will, seek what you will; you will find no higher way above nor safer way below than the road of the Holy Cross. Arrange and order all things to your own ideas and wishes, yet you will still find suffering to endure, whether you will or not; so you will always find the Cross. For you will either endure bodily pain, or suffer anguish of mind and spirit.

At times, God will withdraw from you; at times you will be troubled by your neighbour, and, what is more, you will often be a burden to yourself. Neither can any remedy or comfort bring you relief, but you must bear it as long as God wills. For God desires that you learn to bear trials without comfort, that you may yield yourself wholly to Him, and grow more humble through tribulation. No man feels so deeply in his heart the Passion of Christ as he who has to suffer in like manner. The Cross always stands ready, and everywhere awaits you. You cannot escape it, wherever you flee; for wherever you go, you bear yourself, and always find yourself. Look up or down, without you or within, and everywhere you will find the Cross. And everywhere you must have patience, if you wish to attain inner peace, and win an eternal crown.

If you bear the cross willingly, it will bear you and lead you to your desired goal, where pain shall be no more; but it will not be in this life. If you bear the cross unwillingly, you make it a burden, and load yourself more heavily; but you must needs bear it. If you cast away one cross, you will certainly find another, and perhaps a heavier.

Do you think to escape what no mortal man has been able to escape? Which of the Saints lived without cross or trial? Even our Lord Jesus Christ was never without sorrow and pain, as long as He lived. 'Christ must needs suffer,' said He, 'and rise again from the dead, and so enter into His glory.' Why, then, do you seek any other road than this royal road of the Holy Cross? The whole life of Christ was a cross and martyrdom; and do you look for rest and selfish pleasure?

You are greatly mistaken if you look for anything save to endure trials, for all this mortal life is full of troubles, and everywhere marked with crosses. The further a man advances in the spiritual life, the heavier and more numerous he finds the crosses, for his ever-deepening love of God makes more bitter the sorrows of his earthly exile.

Yet a man who is afflicted in many ways is not without solace and comfort, for he perceives the great benefit to be reaped from the bearing of his cross. For while he bears it with a good will, the whole burden is changed into hope of God's comfort. And the more the body is subdued by affliction, the more is the spirit strengthened by grace within. Sometimes he is so greatly comforted by the desire to suffer adversity for love of conforming to the Cross of Christ, that he would not wish to be without grief and pain; for he knows that the more he can suffer for His sake, the more pleasing he will be to God. This desire does not spring from man's own strength, but from the grace of Christ, which can and does effect such great things in the frail frame of man; so that which nature fears and avoids, he boldly meets and loves through ardour of spirit.

Man is not by nature inclined to carry the cross, to love the cross, to chasten the body, and bring it into subjection; to refuse honours, to submit to insults with goodwill, to despise himself and welcome disparagement; to bear all adversity and loss, and to desire no kind of prosperity in this world. And if you trust in your own strength, you will be unable to achieve any of these things. But if you trust in the Lord, you will be given strength from Heaven, and the world and the flesh will become subject to your will. Neither will you fear your enemy the Devil, if you are armed with faith and signed with the Cross of Christ.

Resolve, then, as a good and faithful servant of Christ, manfully to bear the cross of your Lord, who was crucified for love of you. Prepare yourself to endure many trials and obstacles in this vale of tears; for such will be your lot wherever you are, and you will encounter them wherever you conceal yourself. It must needs be so; nor is there any remedy or means of escape from ills and griefs; you must endure them. Drink lovingly the cup of your Lord, if you wish to be His friend, and to share all with Him. Leave consolations to God, to dispose as He wills. But set yourself to endure trials, regarding them as the greatest of all comforts, 'for the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come', even though you alone were to endure them all.

When you have arrived at that state when trouble seems sweet and acceptable to you for Christ's sake, then all is well with you, for you have found paradise upon earth. But so long as suffering is grievous to you and you seek to escape it, so long will it go ill with you, for the trouble you try to escape will pursue you everywhere.

If you steel yourself - as you must - to suffer and to die, all will go better with you, and you will find peace. For although, like Saint Paul, you were 'caught up into the third heaven', you would not on this account be secured against suffering further adversity. For Jesus says, 'I will show him how great things he must suffer for My Name.' Therefore, be prepared to suffer, if you wish to love Jesus and serve Him for ever.

Oh, if only you were worthy to suffer for the Name of Jesus! How great and enduring a glory would be yours! How great would be the joy of the Saints of God! How edified your friends would be! For all men commend patience, although few are willing to suffer. It is right that you should suffer a little for the sake of Christ, since many suffer greater things for worldly motives.

Be assured of this, that you must live a dying life. And the more completely a man dies to self, the more he begins to live to God. No man is fit to understand heavenly things, unless he is resigned to bear hardships for Christ's sake. Nothing is more acceptable to God, and nothing more salutary for yourself, than to suffer gladly for Christ's sake. And if it lies in your choice, you should choose rather to suffer hardships for Christ's sake, than to be refreshed by many consolations; for thus you will more closely resemble Christ and all His Saints. For our merit and spiritual progress does not consist in enjoying such sweetness and consolation, but rather in the bearing of great burdens and troubles.

Had there been a better way, more profitable to the salvation of mankind than suffering, then Christ would have revealed it in His word and life. But He clearly urges both His own disciples and all who wish to follow Him to carry the cross, saying, 'If any will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.' Therefore, when we have read and studied all things, let this be our final resolve: 'that through much tribulation we must enter the Kingdom of God.'

BOOK THREE

On Inward Consolation

CHAPTER 1

How Christ Speaks Inwardly to the Soul

'I will hear what the Lord God speaks within me.' Blessed is the soul that hears the Lord speaking within it, and receives comfort from His Word. Blessed are the ears that hear the still, small voice of God, and disregard the whispers of the world. Blessed are the ears that listen to Truth teaching inwardly, and not to the voices of the world. Blessed are the eyes that are closed to outward things, but are open to inward things. Blessed are those who enter deeply into inner things, and daily prepare themselves to receive the secrets of heaven. Blessed are those who strive to devote themselves wholly to God, and free themselves from all the entanglements of the world. Consider these things, O my soul, and shut fast the doors against the desires of the senses, that you may hear what the Lord your God speaks within you.

Your Beloved says: 'I am your Salvation, your Peace, and your Life; keep close to Me, and you shall find peace.' Set aside the things of time, and seek those of eternity; for what are the things of time but deceits? And how can any creature help you, if your Creator abandon you? Set aside, therefore, all else, and make yourself acceptable to your Creator, and be faithful to Him, that you may lay hold on true blessedness.

CHAPTER 2

How Truth Instructs us in Silence

THE DISCIPLE. 'Speak, Lord, for Your servant listens.' 'I am Your servant; grant me understanding, that I may know Your testimonies.' 'Incline my heart to the words of Your mouth; let Your speech descend on me like the dew.' The people of Israel of old time said to Moses, 'Speak with us, and we will hear: let not God speak with us, lest we die.' But I do not pray thus, O Lord; but with the Prophet Samuel, I humbly and earnestly beg, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant listens.' Let not Moses or any of the Prophets speak to me, but rather do You speak, O Lord God, who inspire and enlighten the Prophets. You alone can perfectly instruct me without their aid, but without You they can do nothing.

The Prophets can preach the word, but they cannot bestow the Spirit. They speak most eloquently, but if You are silent, they cannot fire the heart. They instruct in the letter, but You open the understanding. They set forth the mysteries, but You reveal the meaning of all secrets. They teach your commandments, but You help us to observe them. They point the way, but You grant us strength to follow it. Their action is external; You instruct and enlighten the heart. They water the seed; You make it fruitful. They proclaim the words, but You impart understanding to the mind.

Therefore, let not Moses speak to me, but You, O Lord my God, the Everlasting Truth, lest I die and bear no fruit if I am but warned in word, and not kindled at heart; lest it turn to my condemnation, if I hear Your word, but do not obey it; know it, but do not love it; believe it, but do not keep it. Therefore, speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening. 'You have the words of eternal life.' Speak to me, Lord, and comfort my soul: order my life to Your praise, glory, and eternal honour.

CHAPTER 3

On Humble Attention to God's Word

CHRIST. My son, hear My words. They are of surpassing sweetness, and excel all the learning of the philosophers and wise men of this world. My words are spirit and life, not to be weighed by man's understanding. They are not to be quoted for vain pleasure, but are to be heard in silence, and received with all humility and love.

THE DISCIPLE. Blessed is the man whom you instruct, O Lord, and teach him out of Your Law. You refresh him in evil days, and he will not be desolate on the earth.

CHRIST. I have taught the Prophets from the beginning of the world, and I do not cease to speak to all men today; but many are hardened, and deaf to My voice. Many listen more willingly to the world than to God, and would rather follow the desires of the body than the good pleasure of God. The world promises passing rewards of little worth, and is served with great eagerness; I promise eternal and rich rewards, yet the hearts of men are indifferent to them. Who is there who serves and obeys Me with as great devotion as he serves the world and its rulers? 'Be ashamed, O Sidon,' cries the sea; and if you ask the reason, hear why.

For a small reward a man will hurry away on a long journey, while for eternal life many will hardly take a single step. Men seek petty gains; they will quarrel shamefully over a single coin; for a mere trifle or vague promise they will toil day and night. Oh, the shame of it! For an imperishable good, for a reward beyond all reckoning, for the highest honour and for glory without end, they are unwilling to endure a little toil. O unwilling and complaining servant, shame on you that worldly men are more ready for damnation than you for salvation; for they are more wholehearted in vanity than you in the Truth. They are often deceived in their hopes, but no one is ever deceived in My promises, and I never send away empty any who trusts in Me. What I promise, I give; what I have said, I will perform, provided you remain faithful in My lord to the end. I am the rewarder of all good men, and the mighty vindicator of all the faithful.

Write My words in your heart, and meditate on them earnestly; they will aid you in temptation. What ever you do not understand when you read, you shall know in the day of My coming. I visit My chosen in two ways; with trial and with consolation. Day by day, I teach them two lessons, one in which I correct their faults, and the other in which I encourage them to progress in virtue. 'He who hears My words and despises them has One who will judge him on the Last Day.'

A Prayer for the Grace of Devotion

THE DISCIPLE. O Lord my God, You are my all and every good. And what am I, that I should presume to address You? I am the poorest of Your servants and a wretched worm, far more poor and worthless than I can ever realize or express. Yet, Lord, remember that I am nothing: I have nothing, and can do nothing. You alone are good, just and holy; You can do all things, fill all things, bestow all things, leaving only the wicked empty-handed. Remember Your mercies, Lord, and fill my heart with Your grace, since it is Your will that none of Your works should be worthless. How can I endure this life of sorrows, unless You strengthen me with Your mercy and grace? Do not turn Your face from me; do not delay Your coming, nor withdraw Your consolation from me, lest my soul become like a waterless desert. Teach me, O Lord, to do Your will; teach me to live worthily and humbly in Your sight; for You are my Wisdom, who know me truly, and who knew me before the world was made, and before I had my being.

CHAPTER 4

On Truth and Humility

CHRIST. My son, walk before Me in truth, and constantly seek Me in simplicity of heart. He who walks before Me in truth shall be protected against the assaults of evil; truth shall deliver him from his deceivers and from the slanders of the wicked. If truth set you free, you are truly free, and need care nothing for the vain words of men.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, this is true; let it be as you have said. Let Your truth be my teacher and my guard, and lead me to salvation in the end. Let it free me from every evil affection and lawless love, and I will walk before You in complete freedom of heart.

CHRIST. I will teach you, says the Truth, what is pleasing to Me. Remember your sins with deep sorrow and displeasure, and never think yourself to be anything because of your good deeds. Remember that you are a sinner, entangled and enchained by many passions. Of yourself, you always tend to nothing; you quickly fail, and are overcome; you are soon disturbed and overthrown. You have nothing of which to boast, but many things of which to be ashamed, for you are much weaker than you realize.

Let nothing that you have achieved seem of great importance. Let nothing seem great, precious or admirable to you; nothing worthy of regard, nothing high, praiseworthy or desirable, save that which is everlasting. Let the eternal Truth be your sole and supreme joy, and let your own deep unworthiness always distress you. Nothing should be more feared, condemned, and shunned than your own sins and vices; these should cause you more distress than the loss of everything. Some do not live sincerely in My sight, but, moved by curiosity and conceit, wish to know My secrets and to fathom the high mysteries of God, while neglecting the salvation of their own souls. When I refuse them, such men often fall into great temptations and sins through pride and curiosity.

Stand in awe of God's judgement, and fear the anger of Almighty God. Do not presume to investigate the ways of the Most High, but rather examine yourself, see how greatly you have sinned, and how much good you have left undone. Some carry their devotion only in books, pictures, and other visible signs and representations. Some have Me on their lips, but seldom in their hearts. There are others who are enlightened in mind and pure in affection, who long always for the things of heaven. These listen with reluctance to worldly matters, and grudge even to serve their bodily needs. They fully understand what the Spirit of Truth speaks within them. For He teaches them to despise earthly things and to love heavenly; to forsake this world, and to long for Heaven.

CHAPTER 5

On the Wonderful Effect of Divine Love

THE DISCIPLE. O Heavenly Father, Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, blessed be Your Name for ever, for You have deigned to consider me, the poorest of Your servants. Father of mercies and God of all comfort, I thank You that, unworthy as I am, You sometimes refresh me with Your consolation. Blessing and glory to You, with Your sole-begotten Son and with the Holy Spirit the Comforter, now and through endless ages. You are my glory, and the joy of my heart; for You are my hope, and my refuge in time of trouble.

As yet my love is weak, and my virtue imperfect, and I have great need of Your strength and comfort. Therefore, visit me often, I pray, and instruct me in Your holy laws. Set me free from evil passions, and heal my heart from all disorderly affections; that, healed and cleansed in spirit, I may grow able to love, strong to endure, and steadfast to persevere.

Love is a mighty power, a great and complete good; Love alone lightens every burden, and makes the rough places smooth. It bears every hardship as though it were nothing, and renders all bitterness sweet and acceptable. The love of Jesus is noble, and inspires us to great deeds; it moves us always to desire perfection. Love aspires to high things, and is held back by nothing base. Love longs to be free, a stranger to every worldly desire, lest its inner vision become dimmed, and lest worldly self-interest hinder it or ill-fortune cast it down. Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger, nothing higher, nothing wider, nothing more pleasant, nothing fuller or better in heaven or earth; for love is born of God, and can rest only in God, above all created things.

Love flies, runs, and leaps for joy; it is free and unrestrained. Love gives all for all, resting in One who is highest above all things, from whom every good flows and proceeds. Love does not regard the gifts, but turns to the Giver of all good gifts. Love knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds. Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength; love sees nothing as impossible, for it feels able to achieve all things. Love therefore does great things; it is strange and effective; while he who lacks love faints and fails.

Love is watchful, and while resting, never sleeps; weary, it is never exhausted; imprisoned, it is never in bonds; alarmed, it is never afraid; like a living flame and a burning torch, it surges upward and surely surmounts every obstacle. Whoever loves God knows well the sound of His voice. A loud cry in the ears of God is that burning love of the soul which exclaims, 'My God and my love, You are all mine, and I am Yours.'

A Prayer

Deepen Your love in me, O Lord, that I may learn in my inmost heart how sweet it is to love, to be dissolved, and to plunge myself into Your love. Let Your love possess and raise me above myself, with a fervour and wonder beyond imagination. Let me sing the song of love. Let me follow You, my Beloved, into the heights. Let my soul spend itself in Your praise, rejoicing for love. Let me love You more than myself, and myself only for Your own sake. Let me love all men who truly love You, as the law of love commands, which shines out from You.

Love is swift, pure, tender, joyful, and pleasant. Love is strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, vigorous, and never self-seeking. For when a man is self seeking he abandons love. Love is watchful, humble, and upright; Love is not fickle and sentimental, nor is it intent on vanities. It is sober, pure, steadfast, quiet, and guarded in all the senses. Love is submissive and obedient to superiors, mean and contemptible in its own sight, devoted and thankful to God, trusting and hoping in Him even when not enjoying His sweetness; for none can live in love without suffering.

Whoever is not prepared to endure everything, and to stand firmly by the will of the Beloved, is not worthy to be called a lover. A lover must willingly accept every hardship and bitterness for the sake of his Beloved, and must never desert Him because of adversity.

CHAPTER 6

On the Proof of a True Lover

CHRIST. My son, you are not yet a brave and wise lover.

THE DISCIPLE. Why, Lord?

CHRIST. Because as soon as you encounter a little trouble, you abandon what you have begun, and eagerly seek for comfort. A brave lover stands firm in temptation, and pays no heed to the crafty arguments of the Devil. He is as true to Me in trouble as in prosperity.

A wise lover values not so much the gift of the lover, as the love of the giver. He esteems the affection above the gift, and values every gift far below the Beloved. A noble lover is not content with a gift, but desires Myself above all gifts. All is not lost, therefore, if sometimes you do not feel that devotion to Me and My Saints that you desire. The good and pleasant affection which you sometimes enjoy is the effect of My grace in you, and is a foretaste of your heavenly home; but do not rely on it too much, for it comes and goes. To fight against evil thoughts as they occur, and to reject with scorn the suggestions of the Devil, is a noteworthy sign of virtue and merit.

Let no strange fancies disturb you, from whatever source they spring. Hold to your purpose bravely, and keep an upright intent towards God. It is no illusion if you are sometimes rapt out of yourself, yet swiftly return to the usual trivial thoughts of men. For these are involuntary rather than deliberate, and as long as they do not please you, can be turned to your gain and not your loss.

You may be sure that the old Enemy is working by every means to frustrate your desire for good, and to entice you away from every spiritual exercise of devotion; from veneration of the Saints, from devout meditation on My Passion, from profitable examination of your sins, from the guard of your heart, and from the firm resolve to grow in holiness. He suggests many evil thoughts to discourage you, and to draw you away from holy reading and prayer. Humble Confession is hateful to him, and if he could, he would make you give up Communion. Do not listen to him or believe him, however often he tries to entrap you. Charge him with it, when he suggests evil and unholy things. Say to him, 'Away, unclean spirit! Blush for shame, wretch! You are foul indeed to speak of these things! Off with you, most evil of liars! You shall have no part in me. Jesus will be with me like a mighty warrior, and you will stand confounded. I would rather die and suffer any torture than consent to you. Be silent, and shut your mouth! I will listen to you no longer, however often you pester me.' 'The Lord is my light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?' 'Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not be afraid.' 'The Lord is my helper and redeemer.'

Give battle, like a good soldier, and if through weakness you sometimes fall, take greater strength than before and put your trust in My more abundant grace. Be also on your guard against vain complacency and conceit, for this leads many into error, and causes almost incurable blindness of heart. Let the overthrow of the proud, who presumed in their own strength, be a warning to you and keep you always humble.

CHAPTER 7

On Concealing Grace under Humility

CHRIST. My son, it is safer and better for you to conceal the grace of devotion; do not boast of it, do not speak much of it, and do not dwell much on it. It is better to think the more humbly of yourself, and to fear that this grace has been granted to one who is unworthy of it. Never depend too much on these feelings, for they may be rapidly changed to the opposite. When you enjoy such grace, consider how sad and needy you are without it. Progress in the spiritual life consists not so much in enjoying the grace of consolation, as in beating its withdrawal with humility, resignation and patience, neither growing weary in prayer nor neglecting your other acts of devotion. Do willingly, and to the best of your ability and understanding, whatever lies in your power, and do not neglect your spiritual life because of any dryness or anxiety of mind.

There are many who grow impatient or indolent when all does not go according to their wishes. But man's life is not always in his control; it belongs to God alone to give and to comfort when He wills, as much as He wills, and whom He wills, just as He pleases and no more. Some people, lacking discretion, have brought ruin on themselves through the grace of devotion, attempting more than lay in their power, ignoring the measure of their own littleness, and following the promptings of the heart rather than the dictates of reason. And because they presumed to greater things than pleased God, they soon lost His grace. These souls, who aspired to build their nest in Heaven, became needy and wretched outcasts, in order that, through humiliation and poverty, they might learn not to fly with their own wings, but to trust themselves under My wings. For those who are still new and untried in the Way of the Lord can easily be deceived and lost, unless they are guided by wise counsel.

If they follow their own notions rather than trust others of proved experience, their end will be perilous unless they are willing to be drawn away from their own conceit. Those who are wise in their own conceit seldom humbly accept guidance from others. A little knowledge and understanding tempered by humility is better than a great store of learning coupled with vain complacency. It is better to have few talents than many of which you might be conceited. Whoever yields himself to joy, forgetful of his former poverty, is very unwise, for he forgets also that pure reverence for the Lord which fears to lose grace already given. Nor is he wise who, in trouble and adversity, yields to despair, and fails to put his trust in Me.

The man who feels secure in time of peace, will often in time of war be found discouraged and afraid. If you were careful to remain always humble and modest in your own esteem, and to direct and control your mind rightly, you would not fall so readily into danger and disgrace. It is good advice, that when the spirit of devotion is aflame in your heart, you should consider how you will fare when the light leaves you. When this happens, remember that this light will one day return, which I have now for a while withdrawn as a warning to you and for My glory.

Such a trial is often more profitable than if all went agreeably with you, and in accordance with your wishes. For a man's merit is not to be reckoned by the visions and comforts he may enjoy, nor by his learning in the Scriptures, nor by his being raised to high dignity. Rather is it by his being grounded in humility and filled with divine love; by his pure, constant, and sincere seeking of God's glory; by his low esteem and honest depreciation of himself; and by his preference for humiliation and despite rather than honours at the hands of men.

[…]

CHAPTER 9

How God Alone is our True End

CHRIST. My son, I must be your supreme and final End, if you desire true happiness. Fixed on Myself, your affection which too often is wrongly inclined to yourself and creatures, will be cleansed. For whenever you seek yourself, at once you become discouraged and desolate. Therefore, refer all things to Me, for it is I who have given all to you. Consider everything as springing from the supreme Good, since to Myself, as their Source, must all things return.

From Myself, as from a living fountain, both small and great, rich and poor alike draw the water of life; and they who freely and willingly serve Me, shall receive grace upon grace. But whoever desires to glory in anything outside Me, or to delight in some personal good thing, will not be established in true joy, nor uplifted in heart, but will be hindered and frustrated in countless ways. Therefore, ascribe no good to yourself, nor to any man, but ascribe all to God, without whom man has nothing. I have given all, and it is My will that all return to Me again; I shall require a grateful and exact account.

This, then, is the troth, by which vainglory is put to flight. And if heavenly grace and tree charity enter in, there will be no envy or meanness of heart, nor will self-love retain possession. Divine charity overcomes everything, enlarging every power of the soul. If you are truly wise, you will rejoice and hope in Me alone; for none is good but God alone, who is to be praised above all, and to be blessed in all.

CHAPTER 10

On the Joy of Gods Service

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, I will speak once more; I cannot remain silent. I will say to my God, my Lord and my King, who dwells on high, 'Oh, how great and manifold are Your joys, kept in secret for those who fear You.' But what are You to those who love You? What to those who serve You with their whole heart? The contemplation of Yourself is the ineffable sweetness that You grant to those who love You. And this is the supreme manifestation of Your love, that when I had no being, You created me; when I went astray, You led me back to Your service, and taught me to love You.

O Fount of eternal love, what may I say of You? How can I forget You, who have deigned to remember me, even after I was corrupted and lost? You have showed mercy on Your servant beyond all my hope; You have given grace and friendship beyond all my deserts. What return can I make to You for this grace? For it is not granted to all men to forsake everything, to renounce the world, and to enter the life of religion. And is it a great thing that I should serve You, whom all creation is bound to serve? It should not seem much to me that I should serve you; rather is it great and wonderful to me that You should see fit to receive into Your service one so poor and unworthy, and count him among Your beloved servants.

All that I have is Yours, and myself with it. Yet it is really You who serve me, rather than I You. Heaven and earth, which You created for the use of man, await Your pleasure, and obey Your laws day by day. And even this is little, for You have appointed the very Angels to minister to men. But what surpasses all these, is that You Yourself stoop to serve man, and have promised him the gift of Yourself.

What return can I make for all these countless favours? If only I could serve You faithfully all the days of my life! If only I could render You worthy service, even for a single day! For You alone are worthy of all service, honour, and eternal praise. You are truly my God, and I Your poor servant, who am bound to serve with all my powers, nor should I ever weary in Your praise. This is my wish and desire; whatever is lacking in me, I pray You to supply.

It is a great honour and glory to serve you, and to despise all else for Your sake; for great grace will be given to those who have willingly entered Your most holy service. They will discover the sweetest consolations of the Holy Spirit, who for Your love have renounced all the delights of the flesh. They will win true freedom of mind, who for Your Name's sake have entered on the narrow way, and set aside all worldly interests.

O gracious and joyful service of God, in which man is made truly free and holy! O sacred state of religious service, which makes man the equal of Angels, pleasing to God, terrible to devils, and an example to all the faithful! O most lovely and desirable service, in which we receive the reward of the supreme Good, and obtain the joy that abides for ever!

CHAPTER 11

On Control of the Heart

CHRIST. My son, you have still many things to learn.

THE DISCIPLE. What are these, Lord?

CHRIST. How you must frame your desires in accordance with My good pleasure, and be not a lover of self, but an earnest follower of My will. Desires often inflame you and drive you violently onwards; but consider whether it be My honour or self-interest that moves you most. If I Myself be the cause, you will be content with whatever I shall determine; but if self-interest is your hidden motive, this will be a hindrance and burden to you.

Take care, therefore, not to rely overmuch on any preconceived desire without asking My counsel, lest you regret or become displeased at what first pleased you, and for which you were eager. For not every feeling that seems good is at once to be acted upon, nor is every feeling that runs contrary to your inclinations to be immediately rejected. It is sometimes necessary to restrain even your good intentions and endeavours, lest by over-eagerness your mind becomes distracted; lest by lack of discipline you cause offence to others; or lest you suddenly become confused and upset by the opposition of others.

You must bravely and forcibly resist your sensual appetite, taking no account of what the body likes or dislikes, and struggle to subdue the unwilling flesh to the spirit. For it must be corrected and brought under control, until it is obedient in everything. It must learn to be content with little, to take pleasure in simple things, and not to complain at any hardship.

CHAPTER 12

On Learning Patience

THE DISCIPLE. O Lord God, I know that I need patience above all else, for in this life there are many trials. For however earnestly I seek peace, I cannot escape struggle and sorrow.

CHRIST. This is true, My son. But My will is that you do not try to find a place free from temptations and troubles. Rather, seek a peace that endures even when you are beset by various temptations and tried by much adversity. If you say that you cannot endure much, how will you endure the fires of Purgatory? Of two evils, always choose the lesser. Endeavour patiently to endure for God's sake all the ills of this life, that you may escape eternal punishment. Do you imagine that worldly men suffer little or nothing? Ask the most wealthy, and you will not find it so.

But, you may say, they enjoy many pleasures, and follow their own desires; in this way they make light of any troubles. Yet, even if they enjoy whatever they desire, how long will this last? The rich of this world will vanish like smoke, and no memory of their past pleasures will remain. But even in their lifetime they do not enjoy them without bitterness, weariness and fear, for the very things whence they derive their pleasures often carry with them the seeds of sorrow. And this is but just; for having sought and followed pleasures to excess, they may not enjoy them without shame and bitterness. Ah, how short-lived and false, how disorderly and base are all these pleasures! Yet so besotted and blind are such persons that, like dumb beasts, they bring death to their souls for the trivial enjoyments of this corruptible life! My son, do not follow your lusts, and do not be self-willed. Delight in the Lord, and he will grant your heart's desire.

If you would taste true pleasure and receive the fullness of My consolation, know this: that in the despising of worldly things and in the shunning of base delights shall be your blessing, and you shall win abundant consolation. The more you withdraw yourself from the comfort of creatures, the sweeter and more potent will be the consolations that you will find in Me. But you will not find these at once, or without sorrow, toil and effort. Old habits will stand in your way, but by better they will be overcome. The body will complain, but by fervour of the spirit it can be disciplined. The Old Serpent will goad and disturb you, but by prayer he will be put to flight; and by profitable labour you will bar the wide path by which he comes to attack you.

CHAPTER 13

On Obedience, after the Example of Christ

CHRIST. My son, whoever strives to withdraw from obedience, withdraws from grace. And he who seeks personal privileges, loses those that are common to all. When a man is unwilling to submit freely and willingly to his superior, it is a sign that his lower nature is not yet under his control, but frequently rebels and complains. Therefore learn to obey your superior promptly if you wish to subdue your lower nature, for the Enemy without is sooner overcome if our inner fortress remains intact. There is no enemy more wicked or troublesome to the soul than yourself, when you are not in harmony with the Spirit, and you must have a very real scorn for self, if you are to prevail against flesh and Blood. It is because you are unwilling to yield your will to that of others, that you are still full of self-love.

Is it so hard for you, who are dust and nothingness, to subject yourself to man for God's sake, when I, the Almighty and most high, who created all things from nothing, humbly subjected Myself to man for your sake? I became the humblest and least of all men, that you might overcome your pride through My humility. Learn to obey, you who are but dust; learn to humble yourself, earth and clay, and to bow yourself beneath the feet of all. Learn to curb your desires, and yield yourself to complete obedience.

Direct your anger against yourself, and let no swelling pride remain in you. Show yourself so submissive and so humble that all men may trample over you and tread on you like the mud of the streets. Vain man, what right have you to complain? What can you, an unclean sinner, answer to any who reproach you, when you have so often offended God, and so many times deserved Hell? But I have spared you, for your soul was precious to Me, that you might know My love, and be ever grateful for My favour: also, that you might give yourself constantly to true obedience and humility, enduring patiently any contempt laid on you.

[…]

CHAPTER 17

How we must put our Whole Trust in God

CHRIST. My son, let My will be your guide. I know what is best for you. Your mind is but human, and your judgement often influenced by personal considerations.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, this is true, and Your providence will order my life better than I can myself: most insecure is the man who does not put all his trust in You. Lord, keep my will steadfast and true to You, and do with me whatever is Your pleasure; for all is good that comes to me by Your will. If You will that darkness be my lot, blessed be Your Name; if it be light, again blessed be Your Name. If You stoop to comfort me, blessed be Your Name; and if You wish to try me, ever blessed be Your Name.

CHRIST. My son, let this be your disposition if you wish to walk with Me. Be as ready to suffer as to be glad; be as willing to be needy and poor as to enjoy wealth and plenty.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, for Your sake I will gladly bear whatever You shall send to me. From Your hand I will accept gladly both good and ill, sweet and bitter, joy and sorrow; and for all that may befall me, I will thank You. Only keep me, O Lord, from all sin, and I shall fear neither Death nor Hell. Do not, I pray, reject me for ever, nor blot out my name from the book of life; then, whatever trials beset me can do me no harm.

CHAPTER 18

How Sorrows are to be Borne Patiently

CHRIST. My son, I came down from Heaven for your salvation. I took upon Myself your sorrows, not because I must, but out of pure love, that you might learn patience, and bear without complaint all the troubles of this world. From the hour of My Birth until My Death on the Cross, I had always to endure sorrow. I suffered great lack of worldly goods; many accusations were levelled against Me. I bore all disgrace and insults with meekness. In return for blessings I received ingratitude; for miracles, blasphemies; for My teaching, reproofs.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, because You were patient in Your life, in this respect especially fulfilling the command of Your Father, it is fitting that I, a wretched sinner, should bear myself patiently in accordance with Your will, and that, for the salvation of my soul, I should bear the burden of this corruptible life so long as You shall will. For though this present life is hard, yet by Your grace it is made full of merit; and by Your example and the lives of Your Saints it is rendered easier and happier for the weak. Its consolations are richer than under the old Law, when the gates of Heaven were shut, and the way thither dark, so that few cared to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. And even those who in former days were righteous and to be saved could not enter the Kingdom of Heaven until Your Passion and the Atonement of Your sacred Death.

What boundless gratitude is Your due, for revealing to me and to all faithful people the true and holy way to Your eternal Kingdom! Your life is Our Way, and by holy patience we will journey onwards to You, who are our crown and consummation. If You, Lord, had not gone before us and showed the way, who could follow? How many would have stayed behind and far distant had they not Your glorious example for their guide? Even now we are cold and careless, although we have heard Your teaching and mighty acts; what would happen to us had we not Your light as our guide?

CHAPTER 19

On Enduring Injuries, and the Proof of Patience

CHRIST. My son, what are you saying? Consider My sufferings and those of My Saints, and cease to complain. You have not yet shed your blood in resistance; your troubles are but small in comparison with those who have suffered so much, whose temptations were so strong, whose trials so severe, and who were proved and tested in so many ways. Remember the heavier sufferings of others, that you may more easily bear your own small troubles. If they do not seem small to you, beware lest your impatience be the cause; and whether they be small or great, try to bear them all patiently.

The better you prepare yourself to meet suffering, the more wisely will you act, and the greater will be your merit. You will bear all more easily if your heart and mind is diligently prepared. Do not say, 'I cannot endure such things from this person,' or, 'I will not tolerate these things: he has done me great injury, and accused me of things I never considered; from another person I might bear it, and regard it as something that must be endured.' Such thoughts are foolish, for you ignore the merit of patience and Him who rewards it, and think only of the person who has injured you and the wrong you endure.

You are not truly patient if you will only endure what you think fit, and only from those whom you like. A truly patient man does not consider by whom he is tried, whether by his superior, his equal, or his inferior; whether by a good and holy man, or by a perverse and wicked person. But however great or frequent the trial that besets him, and by whatever agency it comes, he accepts it gladly as from the hand of God, and counts it all gain.

Always be ready for battle if you wish for victory; you cannot win the crown of patience without a struggle; if you refuse to suffer, you refuse the crown. Therefore, if you desire the crown, fight manfully and endure patiently. Without labour, no rest is won; without battle, there can be no victory.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, make possible for me by grace what is impossible to me by nature. You know how little I can bear, and how quickly I become discouraged by a little adversity. I pray You, make every trial lovely and desirable to me for Your Name's sake, since suffering and affliction for Your sake is so profitable to the health of my soul.

CHAPTER 20

On our own Weakness, and the Trials of This Life

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, I confess my sinfulness, and acknowledge my weakness. Often it is but a small matter that defeats and troubles me. I resolve to act boldly, but when I am assailed even by a small temptation, I am in sore straits. From a trifling thing sometimes arises a strong temptation; and when I think I am secure, I am almost overwhelmed by a mere breath.

Consider my lowness and weakness, O Lord, for You know all things. Have mercy on me, and raise me from the mire, that I may not stick fast in it, nor remain prostrate. It is this that often defeats and confounds me in Your eyes - that I am so prone to fall and so weak in resisting my passions. And although I do not yield to them entirely, yet their assaults trouble and distress me, so that I am weary of living constantly at conflict. My weakness is apparent to me, for evil fancies rush in on me more readily than they depart.

Most mighty God of Israel, zealous lover of souls, I pray You remember the toil and grief of Your servant, and support him in all his undertakings. Strengthen me with heavenly courage, lest my old and wicked enemy the flesh, not yet wholly subject to the spirit, prevail and gain the upper hand. For against this I must fight while breath remains in this troublous life. Alas, what a life is this, where trials and sorrows never cease, and where all things are full of snares and foes! For when one trial or temptation departs, another takes its place; and even while the conflict rages, other troubles arise, innumerable and unexpected.

How can we love life, when it holds so much bitterness, and is subject to so many sorrows and calamities? How, indeed, can that be called life, which breeds death and pain in such full measure? Yet it is loved, and many find great delight in it. The world is often blamed for its falseness and vanity, but it is not readily abandoned: the desires of the body exercise too strong a hold. Some things cause us to love the world, others to hate it. The desires of the body, the desires of the eyes, and the pride of life all draw us to love the world; but the pains and sorrows that justly ensue cause us to hate and weary of it.

Alas, a perverted pleasure overcomes the mind that surrenders to the world, and counts it a delight to lie among the brambles, for it has neither seen nor tasted the sweetness of God and the inner joy of holiness. But they who perfectly despise the world and study to live under God's holy rule know something of that heavenly sweetness promised to all who sincerely forsake the world. They see most clearly how sadly the world goes astray, and how grievously it is deceived.

CHAPTER 21

How we must Rest in God Alone above all Things

THE DISCIPLE. Above all things and in all things rest always in the Lord, O my soul, for He is the everlasting rest of the Saints.

A Prayer

Grant me, most dear and loving Jesus, to rest in You above created things; above health and beauty, above all glory and honour; above all power and dignity above all knowledge and skill; above all fame and praise, above all sweetness and consolation; above all hope and promise, above all merit and desire; above all gifts and favours that You can bestow and shower upon us; above all joy and jubilation that the mind can conceive and know; above Angels and Archangels and all the hosts of Heaven; above all things visible and invisible; and above everything that is not Yourself, O my God.

O Lord my God, You transcend all things; You alone are most high, most mighty, most sufficient and complete, most sweet and comforting. You alone are most full of beauty and glory, in Whom all good things in their perfection exist, both now and ever have been, and ever will be. All, therefore, is too small and unsatisfying that You can give me beside Yourself, or that You can reveal and promise me of Yourself unless I can see and fully possess You. For my heart cannot rest nor be wholly content until it rests in You, rising above all Your gifts and creatures.

O Lord Jesus Christ, spouse of the soul, lover of purity, and Lord of creation, who will give me wings of perfect liberty, that I may fly to You, and be at rest? When shall I be set free, and taste Your sweetness, O Lord my God? When shall I become recollected in You, that for love of You I may no longer be conscious of myself, but of You alone in a manner not known to all men, and above all perception and measure? But now I mourn and bear my unhappy lot with grief, for many evils happen in this vale of sorrows, which often disturb, sadden and darken my path. They often hinder and distract, entice, and entangle me, so that I cannot approach You freely, nor yet enjoy the sweet embrace which You prepare for the souls of the blessed.

O Jesus, Brightness of eternal glory and comfort of the pilgrim soul, hear my cry, and regard my utter desolation. Words fail me in Your presence; let my silence speak for me. How long will my Lord delay His coming? Come to me, Lord, poor and little as I am, and bring me joy. Stretch out Your hand, and deliver me from all my misery and pain. Come, Lord, come, for without You no day or hour is happy; without You my table is without its guest, for You alone are my joy. Sadness is my lot, and I am like a man imprisoned and loaded with chains, until You refresh me with the light of Your presence, and show me Your face as my friend. Let others seek whom they will besides You, but nothing ever can or will give me joy but Yourself alone, my God, my Hope, and my eternal Salvation. I will not keep silent, nor cease from urgent prayer till Your grace returns and my heart leaps at the sound of Your voice.

CHRIST. See, I am here. I have come at your cry. Your tears and your souls longing, your humiliation and contrition of heart have moved Me to come to you.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, I have called You and longed for You. I am ready to renounce everything for Your sake, who first moved me to seek You. Blessed be Your Name, O Lord, for Your goodness to Your servant, according to the richness of Your mercies. What more can Your servant say, Lord? He can only humble himself entirely in Your presence, ever mindful of his own wickedness and unworthiness. For none can compare with You, among all the wonders of heaven and earth. All Your works are good, Your judgements are true, and by Your providence are all things ruled. Praise and glory to You, O Wisdom of the Father! Let my soul, my lips, and all creation join in Your blessing and Your praise!

[…]

CHAPTER 23

On Four Things that Bring Peace

CHRIST. My son, I will now teach you the way of peace and true freedom.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, instruct me, I pray. I am eager to learn.

CHRIST. My son, resolve to do the will of others rather than your own.

Always choose to possess less rather than more.

Always take the lowest place, and regard yourself as less than others.

Desire and pray always that Gods will may be perfectly fulfilled in you.

A man who observes these rules shall come to enjoy peace and tranquillity of soul.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, in these few words of Yours lie the whole secret of perfection. If I could only faithfully observe them, no trouble could distress me. For whenever I am anxious and weary, I find that it is because I have strayed from Your teaching. All things are in Your power, and You always long to bring souls to perfection. Give me Your grace ever more richly; help me to keep Your word and advance my salvation.

A Prayer against Evil Thoughts

My Lord and God, do not abandon me; remember my need, for many evil thoughts and horrid fears trouble my mind and terrify my soul. How shall I pass through them unhurt? How shall I break their power over me? You have said, 'I will go before you, and will humble the proud upon earth. I will open the gates of the prison, and reveal to you the hidden treasures and secrets of the ages.' Do, O Lord, as You have said, and let Your coming put to flight all wicked thoughts. It is my hope and comfort that I can turn to You in all my troubles, put my trust in You, call upon You in my heart, and wait Your comfort in patience.

A Prayer for Mental Light

O merciful Jesus, send the brightness of Your light into my mind, and banish all darkness from the sanctuary of my heart. Restrain my many wayward thoughts, and destroy the temptations that beset me with such violence. Let Your great strength be with me in the fight, and overcome the seducing desires of the flesh, that rage in me like evil beasts. By Your power establish peace, and let Your praises be sung in the temple of a pure heart. Command the winds and storm; subdue the fury of the seas and the blast of the north wind, and there shall be a great calm. Send out Your light and Your truth to shine over the world; for until Your light illuminates my soul, I am dull earth, formless and empty. Pour forth Your grace from above, and bathe my heart in the dew of Heaven. Supply fresh streams of devotion to water the face of the earth, and produce good and perfect fruit. Inspire my mind, now burdened by my sins, and fix my whole desire on heavenly things, so that, having once tasted the sweetness of eternal joys, I may turn with distaste from all the passing pleasures of this world. Release me, and free my heart from all dependence on the passing consolation of wicked things, since none of these things can yield true satisfaction or appease my longings. Unite me to Yourself by the unbreakable bonds of love. You alone can satisfy the soul that loves You, and without You the world is worthless.

CHAPTER 24

On the Evils of Curiosity

CHRIST. Beware of vain curiosity, My son, and do not busy yourself in profitless matters; what are they to you? Follow Me. What concern is it of yours whether a man is good or evil, or what he says and does? You will not be called on to answer for others, but you will certainly have to give a full account of your own life. Why, then, must you meddle where you have no need? I know the hearts of all men, and nothing under the sun is hid from My knowledge. I know the life of every man - his thoughts, his desires and his intentions. Therefore trust yourself entirely to My care, and let your heart be at peace. Let the meddlesome man trouble himself as he will; his words and deeds will recoil on his own head, for he cannot deceive Me.

Do not court the favour of powerful patrons, nor popular favour, not even the particular affection of friends. All these things are distractions, and fill the heart with uncertainty. If you will but await My coming, and throw open the door of your heart, I Myself will speak to you, and reveal to you My secrets.

Be ready; watch and pray. Above all, be humble.

CHAPTER 25

On Lasting Peace and True Progress

CHRIST. I have said, 'Peace I leave with you; My own peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give you.' All men want peace, but all do not seek those things that bring true peace. My peace is with the humble and gentle of heart, and depends on great patience. If you listen to Me, and follow My words, you shall find true peace.

THE DISCIPLE. What must I do, Lord?

CHRIST. Keep guard over your whole life, your actions and words. Direct all your efforts to the single purpose of pleasing Me: seek and desire Myself alone. Never make rash judgements on the behaviour of others, and do not interfere when your opinion is not sought. If you do as I say, you will seldom be troubled in mind. But do not imagine that you can avoid anxiety in this life, or that you may never experience sorrow of heart or pain of body, for true peace is only to be found in the state of eternal rest. So do not think that you have found true peace when you happen to experience no trouble, and do not think that all is well when no one opposes you. Nor should you imagine that everything is perfect when everything happens in accordance with your wishes. Do not hold an exaggerated opinion of yourself, or believe that you are a favourite of God when you enjoy the grace of great devotion and sweetness; for it is not by these things that the true lover of holiness is known, or is a man's spiritual progress dependent on such things.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, on what then does it depend?

CHRIST. On complete surrender of your heart to the will of God, not seeking to have your own way either in great matters or small, in time or in eternity. If you will make this surrender, you will thank God with equal gladness both in good times and in bad, and will accept everything, as from His hand, with an untroubled mind. Be courageous and of such unshakeable faith that, when spiritual comfort is withdrawn, you may prepare your heart for even greater trials. Do not think it unjust that you should suffer so much, but confess that I am just in all My dealings, and praise My holy Name. In so doing, you will walk in the true and noble way of peace, and I will surely come to you again and give you great joy. Only think humbly of yourself, and I promise you as great peace as man may enjoy in this life.

CHAPTER 26

On the Excellence of a Free Mind

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, one who desires perfection must make it his first task to keep his mind at all times set on heavenly things. By so doing, he can pass carefree through many troubles, not as one who has not the wit to realize the dangers that beset him, but in the strength of a free mind, unfettered by undue attachment to worldly things.

Most loving God, I beg You so to preserve me that I am not overborne by the cares of this life. Keep me, also, from becoming the servant of my body's many needs, that I may not become absorbed in its pleasures. Save me from all the pitfalls that beset my soul, that they may not overwhelm and crush me. I do not ask to be preserved from those things that vain and worldly men pursue with such ardour, but rather from those miseries that so heavily burden and impede the soul of Your servant, who lies under the curse common to all mortal men. It is these miseries that prevent my soul from entering into the true liberty of the spirit whenever I would. My Lord God, my Delight above all delights, make bitter to me all worldly pleasure that draws me away from the love of eternal joys, and wickedly seduces me by promising me all the joys of the present. Let me not be overcome by flesh and blood, I entreat You. Let not the world and its brief glory deceive me, nor the Devil and his cunning overthrow me. Give me strength to resist, patience to endure, and constancy to persevere. Give me the rich graces of Your spirit rather than all the pleasures of the world and supplant all worldly love by the love of Your Name. A man of fervent spirit grudges much attention to food, drink, clothing and other bodily needs. Grant me to use these things with moderation, and not to be over-concerned about them. It is not right to ignore them, for nature bids us supply their needs; but the law of holiness forbids us to crave for needless luxuries, since the body then revolts against the spirit. In all things, I pray You, let Your hand guide and govern me, that moderation may be my rule at all times.

[…]

CHAPTER 28

Against Slander

CHRIST. My son, do not take it to heart if others think ill of you, and say unpleasant things about you. Consider yourself to be even worse than they imagine, and regard yourself as the weakest of men. If your inner life is strong, you will not pay much heed to passing words. A wise man remains silent when beset by evil; he turns to Me in his heart, and is untroubled by man's judgements.

Do not let your peace depend on what people say of you, for whether they speak good or ill of you makes no difference to what you are. True peace and joy is to be found in Me alone. He who is neither anxious to please nor afraid to displease men enjoys true peace. All unrest of heart and distraction of mind spring from disorderly affections and groundless fears.

CHAPTER 29

How we should Bless God in all Trouble

THE DISCIPLE. Blessed be Your holy Name for ever, O Lord. I know that it is by Your will that temptation and trouble come upon me. I cannot escape it, but must needs come to You for help, that it may be turned to my good. Lord, I am tormented and uneasy in mind, and my present troubles weigh heavy on me.

Most loving Father, what may I say? I am in dire straits. Save me from this hour. Yet it is for Your glory that I have been brought to this hour, and that I may learn that You alone can deliver me from the depths of my humiliation. Of Your goodness, deliver me, O Lord. For what can I do, helpless as I am; and where can I go without Your aid? Give me patience, Lord, even in this trial. Grant me help, and I shall fear nothing, however hard pressed I may be.

And now, in this trouble, this shall be my prayer, 'Your will be done.' I have fully deserved this trouble, and must bear it. Let me bear it patiently, until the storm is past and better days return. I know that Your almighty power can remove even this trial from me and lessen its violence, so that I am not completely crushed by it. Often in times past, my God and my Mercy, You have done this for me. And the harder it is for me, the easier it is for You to change my way, O God most high.

CHAPTER 30

On Asking God's Help, and the Certainty of His Grace

CHRIST. My son, I am the Lord, who gives strength in time of trouble. Come to Me when the struggle goes hard with you. Your slowness in turning to prayer is the greatest obstacle to receiving My heavenly comfort. For, when you should earnestly seek Me, you first turn to many other comforts, and hope to restore yourself by worldly means. It is only when all these things have failed that you remember that I am the Saviour of all who put their trust in Me; and that, apart from Me, there can be no effective help, no sound counsel, and no lasting remedy. But now, with spirit renewed after the tempest, gather fresh strength and light in My mercies. For I am near, and will restore all things, not only completely, but generously and in full measure.

Is anything too hard for Me? Shall I be like one who does not fulfil his promise? Where is your faith? Stand firm, and persevere. Be courageous and patient, and help will come to you in due time. Wait patiently for Me, and I Myself will come and heal you. Temptation is your testing - there is no cause for alarm or fear. Sorrow upon sorrow can be the only result if you worry about the future. Sufficient to the day is the evil in it. It is quite vain and useless to be either anxious or pleased about the future, for what you anticipate may never happen.

The mind of man is prone to delusions, but to be deceived by the suggestions of the Devil is a sign of spiritual weakness. Satan does not care whether it be by truth or falsehood that he mocks and deceives you; or whether he obtains your downfall through love of the present or fear of the future. Therefore, let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. Trust in Me, and put your whole confidence in My mercy. When you think I am far away, then often I am nearest to you. And when you think the battle almost lost, then the reward of all your toil is often near. All is not lost when anything turns out contrary to your plans. Therefore do not allow your feelings of the moment to obscure your judgement, nor yield to depression as though all hope of recovery were lost.

Do not imagine yourself utterly forsaken if for a while I have allowed some trial to harass you, or withdrawn the comfort that you desire; for this is the way to the Kingdom of Heaven. Be assured that it is better for you, and for all My servants, to struggle against difficulties than to have everything as you wish. I know your secret thoughts, and it is necessary for your salvation that you should sometimes be deprived of spiritual joys, lest you become conceited in your happy state, and complacently imagine yourself better than you are. What I have granted, I can take away, and restore it when I choose.

When I grant comfort, it remains Mine; and when I withdraw it, I am not taking anything that is yours, for every good gift and every perfect gift is Mine alone. If I send you trouble and affliction, do not be indignant or downhearted; for I can swiftly help you, and turn all your sorrow into joy. Notwithstanding, I keep My own counsel, and in all My dealings with you, give Me due praise.

If you are wise and have right judgement, you will never despair or be discouraged. On the contrary, if I scourge you with trouble and do not spare you, be glad and grateful, and regard it as cause for joy. For, 'as My Father has loved Me, so do I love you,' were My words to my well loved disciples, whom I did not send out to enjoy the pleasures of the world, but to fight hard battles; not to win honours, but contempt; not to be idle, but industrious; not to rest, but to bring forth much fruit with patience.

CHAPTER 31

On Forsaking Creatures to Find the Creator

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, I am greatly in need of yet more abundant grace if I am to reach that state where no creature can impede my progress. For as long as anything holds me back, I cannot come freely to You. One who desired to fly freely to You said, 'Who will give me wings like a dove? I will fly, and be at rest.' And who is more perfectly at rest than the man of single purpose? Who more free than he who desires nothing upon earth? Rapt in spirit, a man must rise above all created things, and perfectly forsaking himself, see clearly that nothing in creation can compare with the Creator. But unless a man is freed from dependence on creatures, he cannot turn freely to the things of God. This is the reason why there are so few contemplatives, for there are few who can free themselves entirely from transitory things.

A soul needs much grace to be raised up and carried beyond itself. Yet, unless a man's soul is raised, set free from all attachment to earthly things, and wholly united to God, neither his knowledge nor his possessions are of any value. So long as he esteems as precious anything outside the One, Infinite, and Eternal Good, he will remain mean and earthbound in spirit. For whatever is not God is nothing, and is to be accounted nothing. There is a great difference between the wisdom of a devout man enlightened by God, and the knowledge of a learned and studious scholar. More noble by far is the learning infused from above by divine grace, than that painfully acquired by the industry of man.

Many desire the grace of contemplation, but few take the trouble to practise what is essential to it. It is a great obstacle if we rely on external signs and the experience of the senses, and pay small regard to the perfecting of serf-discipline. I hardly know what motives can inspire us, or what our purpose may be, when we who wish to be considered spiritual take so much trouble and are so concerned with trivial, daily affairs, and so seldom give our full and earnest attention to our interior life.

Alas, after a short meditation we break of, and do not make a strict examination of our lives. We do not consider where our affections really lie, nor are we grieved at the sinfulness of our whole life. Yet it was because of the wickedness of men that the Flood came upon the earth. When our inner inclinations are corrupted, the actions that spring from them are also corrupted. And this is a sign of our lack of inner strength; for from a pure heart alone springs the fruit of a holy life.

A man's achievements are often discussed, but seldom the principles by which he lives. We inquire whether he is brave, handsome, rich, clever, a good writer, a fine singer, or a hard worker: but whether he is humble-minded, patient and gentle, devout and spiritual is seldom mentioned. Nature regards the outward characteristics of a man: Grace considers his inner disposition. And while Nature is often misled, Grace trusts in God and cannot be deceived.

CHAPTER 32

On Self-Denial, and Renunciation of our Desires

CHRIST. My son, complete self-denial is the only road to perfect liberty. Those who are obsessed by self-interest and self-love are slaves of their own desires; they are greedy, inquisitive, and discontented. They spend themselves in pleasures, but never in the service of Jesus Christ, their whole interest being in passing affairs. But all that is not of God shall perish utterly.

Observe this simple counsel of perfection: Forsake all, and you shall find all. Renounce desire, and you shall find peace. Give this due thought, and when you have put it into practice, you will understand all things.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, this is not the work of a single day, and no easy matter. These few words contain the whole way of spiritual perfection.

CHRIST. My son, do not be discouraged or diverted from your purpose at hearing of this way of perfection. Rather let it spur you to higher things, and, at least, to set your heart on them. If only you would do this, and attain that state where you cease to be a lover of self, and stand ready to do My will and His whom I have appointed as your Father, you would greatly please Me, and your whole life would be filled with joy and peace. You have still many things to renounce, and unless you surrender them to Me without reserve, you cannot obtain what you ask of Me. I counsel you to buy from Me gold, reined in the ire, that you may be rich in that heavenly wisdom that rejects all worthless things. Despise the wisdom of the world, and every temptation to please others or yourself.

I have said, exchange what men consider desirable and honourable for that which they hold in low esteem. For true heavenly wisdom, having no exalted opinion of itself, seeks no recognition from the world, is almost disregarded by men, and seems to them useless and of no importance. Many pay it lip-service, but it plays no part in their lives. Yet this is the precious pearl, that remains hidden from many.

CHAPTER 33

On Inconstancy of Heart

CHRIST. My son, do not trust your affections, for they are changeable and inconstant. All your life you are subject to change, even against your inclination. At one time you are cheerful, at another sad; now peaceful, now troubled; now full of devotion, now wholly lacking it; now zealous, now slothful; now grave, now gay. But the wise man, who is well versed in spiritual matters, stands above these changing emotions. He pays small regard to his momentary feelings and whims, but directs all the powers of his mind towards the right and true end. Thus, having fixed his gaze and kept his intention constantly on Me, he can remain single in purpose, and unshaken under all circumstances.

The more single his purpose, the more steadily will a man pass through all the storms of life. But in many, this single purpose becomes obscured; for men pay ready attention to any pleasant thing that comes their way, and it is a rare thing to find anyone wholly free from the sin of self-interest. Thus the Jews once came out to Bethany to Martha and Mary, not for Jesus' sake only, but to see Lazarus. Therefore make your intention pure, single, and upright, that it may be directed to Me alone without hindrance.

[…]

CHAPTER 36

Against the Vain Judgements of Men

CHRIST. My son, trust in God with all your heart. If your conscience bears witness to your devotion and innocence, you need not fear the judgements of men. It is a good and holy thing to suffer in this way, and it will not be a burden to the humble heart that trusts in God rather than itself. Many people talk too much, and little attention should be paid them. Moreover, it is quite impossible to please everyone. Although Saint Paul endeavoured to be pleasing to all men in the Lord, and became all things to all men, yet he cared very little what they thought of himself. He did whatever lay in his power to bring instruction and salvation to others, but even he could not escape being misjudged and despised by others. Accordingly he trusted himself wholly to God, who knows all things, and opposed the shield of patience and humility to the unjust accusations, empty lies and vain boasts of his detractors. Notwithstanding, sometimes he replied to them, lest his silence should give scandal to the weak.

Why should you fear mortal man? Today he is here; tomorrow he is gone for ever. Fear God, and you need never fear man. What real harm can the words or actions of any man do you? He injures himself rather than you, and he cannot escape the judgement of God, whoever he be. Keep God always before you, and do not engage in bitter controversies. Even if for the present you seem to suffer defeat and undeserved disgrace, do not complain nor lessen your due reward through impatience. Instead, raise your eyes to Me in Heaven, for I have power to deliver you from all shame and wrong, and to reward every man according to his merits.

CHAPTER 37

How Surrender of Self Brings Freedom of Heart

CHRIST. My son, renounce self, and you shall find Me. Retain no private choice or personal interest, and you will always be the gainer. As soon as you yield yourself unreservedly into My hands, I will grant you even richer graces.

THE DISCIPLE. How often shall I yield myself, and in what way forsake myself, Lord?

CHRIST. Always, and at all times, in small things as well as in great. I make no exceptions, for I desire to have you wholly divested of self: otherwise, unless you are wholly stripped of self-will, how can you be Mine, mine or yours? The sooner you do this, the better it will be with you, and the more completely and sincerely you do it, the better you will please Me, and the greater will be your gain.

Some resign themselves, but with some reservation; these do not put their whole trust in God, and are therefore concerned to provide for themselves. Others at first offer everything, but later are overcome by temptation, and return to their former state. These make very little progress in virtue, and will never obtain the true freedom of heart, nor enjoy the favour of My friendship, unless they first make a complete surrender and daily offering of themselves to Me. Without this, no fruitful union with Me can exist or endure.

I have often said to you, and I now say once more: Renounce yourself, surrender yourself, and you shall enjoy great inner peace. Give all for all, look for nothing, ask nothing in return: rest purely and trustingly in Me, and you shall possess Me. Then you will be free in heart, and no darkness will oppress your soul. Strive for this, pray for this, desire this one thing - that you may be stripped clean of all selfishness, and follow Jesus in complete self-abandonment, dying to self that you may live to Me for ever. Then will all vain fantasies be put to light, and all evil disorders and groundless fears vanish. Then will all fear and dread depart, and all disordered love die in you.

CHAPTER 38

On the Right Ordering of our Affairs

CHRIST. My son, take great care to ensure that in every place, action, and outward occupation you remain inwardly free and your own master. Control circum stances, and do not allow them to control you. Only so can you be master and ruler of your actions, not their servant or slave; a free man and a true Christian, enjoying the freedom and high destiny of the children of God. These stand above the things of time, and view those of eternity, seeing in their true light both earthly and heavenly things. The things of this world have no hold over the children of God; on the contrary, they draw them into their service, and employ them in the ways ordained by God and established by the Heavenly Architect, who has let nothing in His creation without its due place.

Stand firm in all circumstances. Do not judge by outward appearances or reports as men do, but in each instance enter like Moses into the Tabernacle, to ask guidance of the Lord. Sometimes you will receive God's answer, and return instructed on many matters, both present and future. For Moses always had recourse to the Tabernacle to obtain an answer to his doubts and questions, and he took refuge in prayer to support him amidst the dangers and wickednesses of men. Similarly must you take refuge in the depths of your heart, and pray most earnestly for God's help. We read that Joshua and the children of Israel were deceived by the men of Gibeon because they had not first asked counsel of God. Therefore, in giving credit to their statements, they were misled by their pretended piety.

CHAPTER 39

How we should not be Over Anxious

CHRIST. My son, always commit your cause to Me, and I will bring it to a good issue in due time. Wait until I order it, and you will find it to your advantage.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, I readily commit everything into your hands, for my own judgement is of small value. I wish I were less concerned about the future, and could unreservedly submit myself to Your good pleasure.

CHRIST. My son, a man often labours incessantly to obtain his desire; but when he has obtained it, he begins to change his mind. For man's affections do not remain constant, but tend to move from one object to another. It is therefore no small advantage, if a man can renounce self even in small things. Man's true spiritual progress depends on the denial of self, and he who renounces self is completely free and secure. But the Old Enemy, the Adversary of all good never ceases to tempt man. Day and night he lies in ambush, hoping to trap the unwary into the snares of his deceit. 'Watch and pray lest you enter into temptation.'

CHAPTER 40

How Man has no Personal Goodness of which to Boast

THE DISCIPLE. 'Lord, what is man that You are mindful of him, or the son of man, that You visit him?' What has man done to deserve Your grace? Lord, I have no cause to complain if You abandon me; and if You Will is contrary to my desires, I have no right to plead against it. But this I may rightly think and say, 'Lord, I am nothing and I can do nothing. I have no good of Myself, but am imperfect in every respect, and always tend to nothing. Unless You guide my soul and grant me strength, I become weak and completely helpless.'

You, O Lord, remain ever Yourself, abiding in eternity, good, just, and holy, ordering all things in goodness, justice, and holiness, and disposing them in wisdom. But I, who am always more ready to slip back than go forward, never remain the same, for seven times have passed over me. Yet, when You deign to stretch out Your hand to help me, my state is quickly changed for the better; for You alone, and without human aid, can help and strengthen me, so that I may no longer be unstable, but turn my heart to You alone, and be at peace. No mortal man can comfort me, and if only I could wholly renounce all human comfort - whether to increase my devotion, or because my needs compel me to seek You - then I could rightly trust entirely to Your grace, and rejoice in the gift of Your renewed comfort.

Whenever things go well with me, I offer thanks to You, from whom all proceeds. Before You, I am empty nothingness, a weak and unstable man. I have nothing of which to boast, nothing for which I merit any consideration. Can nothing boast of its nothingness? This would be the height of vanity! Empty conceit is like an evil disease, and the most monstrous of vanities, for it leads a man away from true glory, and robs him of heavenly grace. For so long as a man is filled with complacency, he displeases You; and while he hankers after popularity and praise, he is deprived of true virtue. True glory and holy joy are to be found in giving glory not to self, but to You; rejoicing not in one's own strength, but in Your Name; taking no pleasure in creatures, unless it be for Your sake. Praised be Your holy Name, not mine. I will praise your Name, but not my own; I will esteem Your doings, not my own: I will bless Your holy Name. I desire no share in the praises of men. You alone are my glory. You alone are the joy of my heart. I will offer You praise and glory every hour of the day; but for myself, I will glory in nothing, unless it be in my own weakness. Let the Jews seek such glory as men give to one another; I will seek the glory that God alone can give. For all human glory, all this world's honours, all earthly titles, compared with Your eternal glory, are mere vanity and foolishness. O blessed Trinity, my God, my Truth, my Mercy, to You alone let all things ascribe all praise, honour, power, and glory throughout endless ages.

CHAPTER 41

On Contempt for Worldly Honours

CHRIST. My son, do not be discouraged if you see others given honours and advancement, while you are overlooked and humiliated. Lit up your heart to Me in Heaven, and the contempt of men will not trouble you.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, we are blind, and are easily deceived through vanity. If I carefully examine my life, I find that no creature has ever done me wrong, and I have no right to complain. But because I have so often and grievously sinned against You, every creature is rightly in aims against me. Shame and contempt are my just due; but to You, O Lord, be praise, honour, and glory. Unless I am ready, willing, and glad to be despised and abandoned by all creatures, and to be regarded as of no consequence, I cannot obtain inward peace and stability, nor can I become spiritually enlightened and fully united to You.

CHAPTER 42

That our Peace cannot Depend on Man

CHRIST. My son, if your peace depends on anyone, by reason of your affection or friendship with him, you will always be unsettled, and dependent on him. But if you turn to the living and eternal Truth, the departure or death of your friend will not distress you. Your love for a friend must rest in Me, and those who are dear to you in this life must be loved only for My sake. No good and lasting friendship can exist without Me, and unless I bless and unite all love it cannot be pure and true. You should be so mortified in your affection towards loved ones that, for your part, you would forego all human companionship. Man draws the nearer to God as he withdraws further from the consolations of this world. And the deeper he descends into himself and the lower he regards himself, the higher he ascends towards God.

He who attributes any goodness to himself, obstructs the coming of God's grace, for the grace of the Holy Spirit always seeks a humble heart. If you would perfectly overcome self and set yourself free from love of creatures, I would come to you with all My grace. But while your interest is in creatures, the vision of the Creator is hidden from you. Learn, then, for love of the Creator, to overcome self in everything, and you shall come to the knowledge of God. But so long as anything, however small, occupies too much of your love and regard, it injures the soul and holds you back from attaining the highest Good.

CHAPTER 43

A Warning against Vain and Worldly Learning

CHRIST. My son, do not allow fair phrases and subtle sayings to beguile you; for the Kingdom of God comes not by words, but by My power. Pay attention to My words, for they fire the heart and lighten the understanding, foster contrition and bring all comfort. Never study in order to appear more wise and learned; study rather to overcome your besetting sins, for this will profit you more than will the grasp of intricate problems.

When you have read and mastered many subjects, always return to this fundamental truth: that I am He who teaches man knowledge, and who grants My children a dearer understanding than man can impart. He whom I teach will swiftly gain wisdom and advance far in the life of the spirit. But those who seek curious knowledge from men, and care nothing for My service, will discover only sorrow. In due time Christ will come, the Teacher of teachers and Lord of Angels. He will hear the lessons of all; that is, He will examine each man's conscience. He will search Jerusalem with lamps; the hidden things of darkness will be brought to light, and the tongues of controversy silenced.

I am God, who enable the humble-minded to understand more of the ways of the everlasting Truth in a single moment than ten years of study in the Schools. I teach in silence, without the clamour of controversy, without ambition for honours, without confusion of argument. I teach men to despise earthly things, to find this present life burdensome, to seek eternal things, to shun honours, to endure injuries, to place all trust in Me, to desire nothing but Myself, and to love Me ardently above all things.

There was once a man who loved Me very dearly, who learned My divine secrets, and spoke eloquently of Me. He profited more by renouncing everything than by studying subtleties. For to some I speak on everyday affairs; to others on particular matters; to some I graciously reveal Myself in signs and symbols, while to those who are enlightened I reveal My mysteries.

A book has but a single voice, but is not equally profitable to all who read it. I alone am the Teacher of truth, the Searcher of man's heart, the Discerner of his doings, and I give to each man as I judge right.

CHAPTER 44

On Avoiding Distractions

CHRIST. My son, you must needs be ignorant of many things: so consider yourself as dead, and crucified to the whole world. Furthermore, you must turn a deaf ear to many things, and consider only such as bring peace. It is better to turn away from controversial matters, and leave everyone to hold their own opinions, than to belabour them with quarrelsome arguments. So long as you remain in God's grace, and carry His Will in your heart, you will more easily endure apparent discomfiture.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, to what a pass have we come? We grieve over a worldly loss; we labour and hustle to gain some small profit, forgetting the harm to our souls, and seldom recalling it. We attend to matters of little or no value, and neglect those of the greatest importance. For when a man devotes all his energies to material affairs, he rapidly becomes immersed in them, unless he quickly recovers his senses.

CHAPTER 45

How we should not Believe all we Hear

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, help me in my trouble, for vain is the help of man. How often have I found no loyalty where I expected to find it! And how often have I found it where I least expected! It is useless to place our hope in man; salvation is to be found in You alone, O God. In all that befalls us, we bless You, O Lord our God.

We are weak and unstable, changeable and easily deceived. None of us can guard himself so carefully and completely that he is never deceived nor in doubt. But whoever trusts in You, Lord, and seeks You with a pure heart, does not easily fall. And if he encounters any trouble, however great it be, You will swiftly deliver or comfort him; for You never abandon those who trust in You to the end. Rare indeed is a faithful friend, who stands by his friend in all trouble. And You, Lord, are the most faithful of all friends, and there is none like You.

How wise was the holy soul (Saint Agatha) who said, 'My mind is firmly established and grounded in Christ.' Were this true of myself, I should never fear any man, and no bitter words could disturb me. We cannot foresee the future or provide against evils to come; and if things that we expect often harm us, how can unexpected events do otherwise than seriously harm us? Why have I not made better provision for my unfortunate self, and why have I trusted so readily in others? For we are but mortal men, and nothing if not weak, even if many people imagine and say that we are angels. There is none in whom I can trust, Lord, save Yourself, who are the Truth, and who neither deceives nor can be deceived. But every man is deceitful, weak, unstable and fallible, especially in what he says, so that we should not at once believe even what at first appears to be true.

Your wisdom warns us to beware of man, since a man's enemies are those of his own household, and we may not believe any who says, 'He is here, or 'He is there'. I have learned this to my cost, and I only hope that it may make me more careful and correct my foolishness. 'Be discreet,' says one: 'Be discreet, and keep what I tell you to yourself.' And while I remain silent about it, imagining it to be a secret, he cannot himself keep the silence which he enjoined on me, but at once betrays both himself and me, and goes on his way. From such tales and from such indiscreet folk, protect me, O Lord! Do not let me fall into their power, nor behave in the same way myself. Make my conversation truthful and trustworthy, far removed from slyness. For what I do not tolerate in others, I must myself avoid at all costs.

To remain silent about others makes for peace and goodwill, neither believing all that is said, nor repeating what one has heard. There are few to whom we should open our hearts, but we should always seek You, who see into all hearts. We may not allow ourselves to be carried to and fro by the windy blast of words, but rather pray that all our life, both public and private, may be ordered in conformity to Your Will.

A sure way of retaining the grace of heaven is to disregard outward appearances, and diligently to cultivate such things as foster amendment of life and fervour of soul, rather than to cultivate those qualities that seem most popular.

Very many people have been harmed by publicity and by lightly-bestowed praise of their virtues. But grace is most powerful when preserved in silence in this transitory life, which consists wholly of temptation and warfare.

[…]

CHAPTER 51

How when we Lack Strength for Higher Work we should Undertake Humble Tasks

CHRIST. My son, you cannot always bum with zeal for virtue, nor remain constantly in high contemplation; the weakness of sinful human nature will at times compel you to descend to lesser things, and bear with sorrow the burdens of this present life. So long as you wear this mortal body, you will be subject to weariness and sadness of heart. Therefore, in this life, you will often lament the burden of the body, which hinders your giving yourself wholly to the life of the spirit and to divine contemplation.

When this happens, you will be wise to resort to humble, exterior tasks, and to restore yourself by good works. Await My coming with unshakeable trust, and bear your exile and desolation of spirit with patience until I come again and set you free from all anxiety. Then you will forget all your former toil, and will enjoy inward peace. I will unfold he fore you the fair fields of the Scriptures, and you shall advance in the way of My commandments with heart at liberty. Then you shall say, 'The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us. '

[…]

CHAPTER 53

How God's Grace is not Granted to the Worldly-Minded

CHRIST. My son, My grace is precious, and may not be mingled with worldly concerns and pleasures. Therefore, if you wish to receive it, you must remove every obstacle to grace. Seek out a place apart, and love the solitary life. Do not engage in conversation with men, but instead pour forth devout prayer to God, that you may preserve a humble mind and a clean conscience. Count the whole world as nothing, and place attendance on God before all outward things. For you cannot attend on Me, and at the same time take pleasure in worldly things. Remain detached from acquaintances and friends and independent of this world's consolations. It is for this reason that the blessed Apostle Peter begs all the faithful in Christ to keep themselves as strangers and pilgrims in this world.

With what confidence will a man meet death, to whom no worldly affection clings! But a weak soul cannot bear to be thus detached from all things, nor can a worldly-minded man understand the freedom of the spiritual man. Nevertheless, when a man sincerely desires to be spiritual, he must renounce all, both friend and stranger, and must beware of none more than himself. If you can win complete mastery over self, you will easily master all else. To triumph over self is the perfect victory. For whoever so controls himself that his passions are subject to his reason, and his reason wholly subject to Me, is master both of himself and of the world.

If you aspire to reach this height of perfection, you must make a brave beginning. Lay the axe to the roots, to cut out and destroy all inordinate and secret love of self, and of any personal and material advantage. From this vice of inordinate self-love spring nearly all those other failings that have to be completely overcome. But as soon as this evil is mastered and subdued, great peace and lasting tranquillity will follow. But few endeavour to die completely to self, and to rise wholly above it; consequently, they remain absorbed in themselves, and quite unable to rise in spirit above self. He who desires to walk with Me in true freedom must mortify all irregular and undisciplined desires, and have no selfish longing for any creature.

CHAPTER 54

On the Contrary Workings of Nature and Grace

CHRIST. My son, carefully observe the impulses of nature and grace, for these are opposed one to another, and work in so subtle a manner that even a spiritual, holy and enlightened man can hardly distinguish them. All men do in fact desire what is good, and in what they say and do pretend to some kind of goodness, so that many are deceived by their appearance of virtue.

Nature is crafty, and seduces many, snaring and deceiving them, and always works for her own ends. But Grace moves in simplicity, avoiding every appearance of evil. She makes no attempt to deceive, and does all things purely for love of God, in whom she rests as her final goal.

Nature is unwilling to be mortified, checked or overcome, obedient or willingly subject. Grace mortifies herself, resists sensuality, submits to control, seeks to be overcome. She does not aim at enjoying her own liberty, but loves to be under discipline; and does not wish to lord it over anyone. Rather does she desire to live, abide and exist always under God's rule, and for His sake she is ever ready to submit it to all men.

Nature works for her own interest, and estimates what profit she may derive from others. Grace does not consider what may be useful or convenient to herself, but only what may be to the good of many. Nature is eager to receive honour and reward: Grace faithfully ascribes all honour and glory to God. Nature fears shame and contempt: Grace is glad to suffer reproach for the Name of Jesus. Nature loves ease and rest for the body; Grace cannot be idle, but welcomes work cheerfully.

Nature loves to enjoy rare and beautiful things, and hates the cheap and clumsy. Grace takes pleasure in simple and humble things, neither despising the rough, nor refusing to wear the old and ragged. Nature pays regard to temporal affairs, takes pleasure in this world's wealth, grieves at any loss, and is angered by a slighting remark. But Grace pays attention to things eternal, and is not attached to the temporal. The loss of goods fails to move her, or hard words to anger her, for she lays up her treasure and joy in Heaven where none of it can be lost.

Nature is greedy, and grasps more readily than she gives, loving to retain things for her personal use. But Grace is kind and generous, shuns private interest, is contented with little, and esteems it more blest to give than to receive. Nature inclines a man towards creatures - to the body, to vanities, to restlessness. But Grace draws a man towards God and virtue. Renouncing creatures, she flees the world, loathes the lusts of the flesh, limits her wanderings, and shuns public appearances. Nature is eager to enjoy any outward comfort that will gratify the senses. Grace seeks comfort in God alone, and delights in the Sovereign Good above all visible things.

Nature does everything for her own gain and interest; she does nothing without fee, hoping either to obtain some equal or greater return for her services, or else praise and favour. But Grace seeks no worldly return, and asks for no reward, but God alone. She desires no more of the necessaries of life than will serve her to obtain the things of eternity.

Nature takes pleasure in a host of friends and relations; she boasts of noble rank and high birth; makes herself agreeable to the powerful, flatters the rich, and acclaims those who are like herself. But Grace loves even her enemies, takes no pride in the number of her friends, and thinks little of high birth unless it be allied to the greater virtue. She favours the poor rather than the rich, and has more in common with the honourable than with the powerful. She takes pleasure in an honest man, not in a deceiver; she constantly encourages good men to labour earnestly for the better gifts, and by means of these virtues to become like the Son of God.

Nature is quick to complain of want and hardship; but Grace bears poverty with courage. Nature, struggling and striving on her own behalf, turns everything to her own interest: but Grace refers all things to God, from whom they come. She attributes no good to herself; she is not arrogant and presumptuous. She does not argue and exalt her own opinions before others, but submits all her powers of mind and perception to the eternal wisdom and judgement of God. Nature is curious to know secrets and to hear news; she loves to be seen in public, and to enjoy sensations. She desires recognition, and to do such things as win praise and admiration. But Grace does not care for news or novelties, because all these things spring from the age-old corruption of man, for there is nothing new or lasting in this world.

Grace therefore teaches us how the senses are to be disciplined and vain complacency avoided; how anything likely to excite praise and admiration should be humbly concealed; and how in all things and in all knowledge some useful fruit should be sought, together with the praise and honour of God. She wants no praise for herself or her doings, but desires that God may be blessed in His gifts, who out of pure love bestows all things.

Grace is a supernatural light, and the especial gift of God, the seal of His chosen and the pledge of salvation, which raises man from earthly things to love the heavenly, and from worldly makes him spiritual. The more, therefore, that Nature is controlled and overcome, the richer is the grace bestowed, while man is daily renewed by fresh visitations after the likeness of God.

CHAPTER 55

On the Corruption of Nature, and the Power of Grace

THE DISCIPLE. O Lord my God, You have created me in Your own image and likeness. Grant me this great grace, so necessary to my salvation, that I may conquer the base elements of my nature, that drag me down into sin and perdition. Within my being I can feel the power of sin contending against the rule of my mind, leading me away an obedient slave to all kinds of sensuality. I cannot resist its onslaughts, unless Your most holy grace is poured glowing into my heart to help me.

I need Your grace in fullest measure, to subdue that nature which always inclines to evil from my youth up. For it fell through Adam the first of men, and was tainted by sin, the penalty of that fault descending upon all mankind. Thus the nature which You created good and upright has now become the very symbol of corruption and weakness, for when let to itself, it leans always towards evil and base things. The little strength that remains is only like a small spark, buried beneath ashes. Yet this same natural reason, though hidden in profound darkness, still retains the power to know good and evil, and to discern truth and falsehood. But it is powerless to do what it knows to be good, neither does it enjoy the full light of truth, nor its former healthy affections.

Thus, O Lord my God, it comes about that, while I inwardly delight in Your law, and know Your commands to be good, just, and holy, both for the condemnation of all evil and the avoiding of sin, yet in my body I serve the law of sin, and obey my senses before my reason. Hence, while I indeed possess the will to good, I find myself powerless to follow it. In this way, I make many good resolutions, but, through lack of grace to support my weakness, any small obstacle causes discouragement and failure. Thus, too, I know the way of perfection, and see clearly enough what I ought to do; but I am borne down by the burden of my own corruption, and advance no nearer to perfection.

Lord, how urgently I need Your grace if I am to undertake, carry out and perfect any good work! Without it, I can achieve nothing; but in You and by the power of Your grace, all things are possible. O true and heavenly grace, without which our own merits are nothing, and our natural gifts of no account! Neither arts nor riches, beauty nor strength, genius nor eloquence have any value in Your eyes, Lord, unless allied to grace. For the gifts of nature are common to good men and bad alike, but grace or love are Your especial gift to those whom You choose, and those who are sealed with this are counted worthy of life everlasting. So excellent is this grace that neither the gift of prophecy, nor the working of miracles, nor any speculation, however sublime, is of any value without it. Indeed, not even faith, or hope, or any other virtue is acceptable to You without love and grace.

O most blessed grace, that makes the poor in spirit rich in virtues, and the richly blessed humble in heart! Come, descend on me! Fill me with your comfort, lest my soul faint from weariness and dryness of mind. I pray, Lord, that I may find favour in Your sight, for Your grace is sufficient for me, even if I obtain none of those things that nature desires. However often I am tempted and troubled, I will fear no evil so long as Your grace remains with me.

Your grace is my strength, my counsel, and my help. It is more powerful than all my enemies, and wiser than all the wise. It is the teacher of truth, the instructor of doctrine, the light of the heart, the consoler of affliction. It banishes sorrow, drives away fear, fosters devotion, and moves to contrition. With out grace, I am nothing but a dry tree, a barren stock fit only for destruction. Therefore, O Lord, let Your grace always lead and follow me, and keep me ever intent on good works, through Your Son Jesus Christ. Amen.

[…]

CHAPTER 57

That we should never Despair

CHRIST. My son, patience and humility in adversity are more pleasing to Me than great devotion and comfort in times of ease. Why are you so distressed when you are criticized in some small matter? Had it been a far more serious matter, that is no reason for your being disturbed. Let it pass. It is not your first mistake, or anything new; nor, if you live long, will it be your last. You are brave enough when you meet no opposition. You can give good advice and encouragement to others, but when trouble knocks unexpectedly at your own door, your strength and judgement fail you. Remember the great weakness you often experience in small troubles; yet these things happen for your own good.

Banish discouragement from your heart as best you can, and if trouble comes, never let it depress or hinder you for long. At the least, bear it bravely if you cannot bear it cheerfully. Even if you are reluctant to bear it, and feel indignant, yet control yourself, and let no rash words escape you that may harm Christ's little ones. The violence of your feelings will soon subside, and grace return to heal your inner pain. 'I live,' says the Lord, 'ready to help and comfort you more than ever, if you will trust Me and call on Me with devotion.'

Be of good heart, and steel yourself to endure greater trials. All is not lost, however often you feel tempted or sorely troubled. You are a man, not God; you are human, not an angel. How can you expect to remain always in a constant state of virtue, when this was not possible even for an angel of Heaven, nor for the first man in the Garden? I am He who grants healing and comfort to those in distress, and I raise up to My Divinity those who acknowledge their weakness.

THE DISCIPLE. Lord, blessed are Your words! They are sweeter to my mouth than honey and the honeycomb. What would I do in such trials and troubles as mine, if You did not uphold me with Your holy words? So long as I come at last to the haven of salvation, what matters the kind or magnitude of my sufferings? Grant me a holy end, and a joyful passing out of this world. Remember me, O my God, and lead me in the right way to Your Kingdom.

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企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

乌　托　邦

（英汉双语）

(第四辑)

［英］托马斯·莫尔　著

［英］保罗·特纳　英译

孙平华　何　珊　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

乌托邦：英汉双语／（英）莫尔著；孙平华，何珊译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2012.9

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3332-2

Ⅰ．①乌…　Ⅱ．①莫…　②孙…　③何…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②乌托邦　Ⅳ．①H319.4:D

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2012）第104195号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2012-7265号）

www.penguin.com

This edition fi rst published in Penguin Books 2009

Translation copyright ⓒ Paul Turner, 1965, 2003

All rights reserved

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未经允许，不得擅用。

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目　录

观念——《伟大的思想》代序

《伟大的思想》中文版序

译者导读

莫尔致彼得·贾尔斯的信

贾尔斯致巴斯雷德的信

第一部

第二部

返回分册总目录

观　念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese

Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin’s Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. T e books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. T e launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonf ction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine’s Common Sense or John Ruskin’s On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book’s reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. T e sense of anger in T omas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many dif erent countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, f rst written down long ago.

T e Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously inf uential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to f nd themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

托马斯·莫尔（St. T omas More,又称Sir T omas More, 1478-1535），英格兰政治家、人文主义学者与欧洲空想主义创始人。1478年生于伦敦的一个法学家庭，毕业于牛津大学，曾任律师、国会议员、财政副大臣、国会下院议长、大法官。1535年因反对亨利八世兼任教会首脑而被处死。

莫尔最著名的作品《乌托邦》全名为《关于最完美的国家制度和乌托邦新岛的既有益又有趣的全书》，该书用拉丁语写成，约于1516年出版。莫尔在牛津大学攻读古典文学期间广泛阅读了柏拉图伊壁鸠鲁、亚里士多德等人的作品，并深受人文主义和柏拉图思想的影响，后来有评论家将《乌托邦称为柏拉图《理想国》的续篇。乌托邦一词源于希腊语，意为“没有的地方”或“好地方”，寓意一个虚构的而又美好的地方。莫尔采用对话的方式，通过主人公拉斐尔的叙述以游记小说的表现形式描绘了一个理想社会。

《乌托邦》分为两部。第一部中，莫尔借拉斐尔之口揭露了当时英国社会的各种弊端，对16世纪初欧洲国家，尤其是英国的政治制度和社会制度进行了尖锐的讽刺和深刻的揭露，并将批判的矛头直指私有制。莫尔对当时英国社会的描述与批判与第二部中乌托邦的描写形成鲜明的对比和反衬。第二部中，莫尔系统地介绍了乌托邦这个神秘岛国的政治、经济、科学文化、社会生活、宗教及外交。大至政治、经济、外交等社会制度，小至婚嫁、饮食、着装等社会习俗，莫尔无不进行了详尽细致的描述，将乌托邦这一神秘的国度活灵活现地展现在读者的眼前。政治上民主，经济上平等，生活上健康积极，宗教上自由宽容，外交上友好和平，乌托邦社会的各个方面都具有社会主义制度的雏形，小说《乌托邦》也开创了社会主义小说的先河。马克思和恩格斯称赞《乌托邦》一书显示出“共产主义思想的微光”。但由于历史的局限性，《乌托邦》也具有一定的片面性，例如书中提到的“平均主义”在当时生产力水平低下的社会中根本行不通，只能是一种空想，然而这并不影响《乌托邦》成为不朽之作。

《乌托邦》最大的贡献在于第一个提出了消灭私有制、建立公有制的问题，并对社会主义制度的构想进行了详尽的描述，提出了一套完整的社会主义体系和具体原则。莫尔以这种独特的方式表达了对当时英国统治阶级的强烈不满和严厉的批判，并以一个空想的国度来寄托自己的社会理想。然而，在当时，莫尔不可能对资本主义有全面和深刻的认识，也无法寻得实现他所构想的社会制度的正确途径，因此“乌托邦”成为了空想的代名词。译者在翻译过程中力图使用最简洁的语言准确传达原著意义，并对文中一些词汇做了简要的注解，以期读者能对这一不朽著作有更准确更清晰的理解。

莫尔致彼得·贾尔斯的信

我亲爱的彼得·贾尔斯，我真不好意思寄给你这本关于乌托邦国家的小书，因为让你等了将近一年时间，而你一定期望在一个半月之内就能得到这本书。你知道在这本书中我不难找到我自己的主题，也不必苦苦思索一种合适的形式——我必须做的事情就是将拉斐尔对我们讲的内容复述一下而已。不必在措辞上费神太多，因为他在语言风格上并没有特别的润色——一切都是随时的即兴交谈，并且你也知道他的拉丁语也不像他的希腊语那样好。因此，我越是接近他简朴的即席语言表达风格，我就越是贴近真实，在这种情况下，我所担心的也是应该担心的所有内容就是真实性。

是的，彼得，我知道。那么多的工作都已准备就绪，实际上我没有要做的事情了。告诉你吧，在任何其他情况下创作和组织像这样的一本书，即使是有天赋、有学问的人也需要投入大量的时间和思索。如果既要尊重这一风格又要准确，我也就没有时间和精力来完成它了。但事实上，我免除了所有那些头痛的事情。我的工作只是将我所听到的记录下来，这确实极为容易——可是，其他的许多事情忙得我都没有一点时间来做这项极为容易的工作。我一直忙于法院的事情，或是参与辩护，或是主持审判，或是民事案件，或是刑事案件。然后就是总有要去拜访的人，或是因为公事，或是出于礼貌。我实际上整天在外面忙，与其他人打交道——剩余的时间就是与家人在一起，因此，我自己就没有剩下时间写作了。

你知道，我回家后必须与妻子聊天，与孩子们交流，与仆人讨论事情。我把这些也当作我应尽的义务，因为如果我要不想在自己家中是一个陌生人，绝对有必要这样做。除此之外，一个人应该善待一起生活的人，不管是谨慎选择为伙伴，或者只是由于偶然的机会或家族关系而共同生活——即应该尽量善待而不能损害他们，也不能把仆人变为主人。

因此，一天天、一月月，乃至一年年就这样悄然流逝。你可能会问，那么我何时写作呢？好了，到目前为止我还没有提及睡眠，或者是吃饭——许多人在吃饭上消耗的时间与睡眠一样多——其实我所获得的仅有时间都是我从睡眠和吃饭中偷来的。这些时间不多，因此我的进展就比较缓慢——但是这至少还是有些时间，所以我已经最后完成了《乌托邦》这本书，现在寄给你，我亲爱的彼得，希望你能够阅读它，如有遗漏的地方就告诉我，我对那个得分感到相当的自信——因为我仅仅希望我的学问和智力能够达到我的记忆水准——但是我并不太自信我什么也没有忘记。

如你所知，我的年轻助手约翰·克莱门，那时也跟我们在一起。凡是有些教育价值的谈话我都决不让他错过，因为他已经开始在拉丁语和希腊语方面展现了希望，我期待着他有朝一日成就大事。对了，他使我感到有一个很难确定的细节问题。根据我的回忆，拉斐尔告诉我们空中城堡中的乌水河上的那座桥长五百码，但是约翰想让我把这个数字减少两百，因为他说那条河在那个地方不会超过三百码。请你根据你的记忆回忆一下正确的数字好吗？如果你同意他说的对，我就采取你一样的看法，确定我错了。但是如果你全忘记了我就采用我的数字，因为这是我似乎所记的情况。你知道我极其想把事实搞对了，任何有事情难以肯定的时候，任何我讲述的背离真实之处都不是我的意愿，因为我宁愿做老实人也不愿装聪明人。

尽管如此，最简单的解决方案就是你去问一下拉斐尔本人，或是口头，或是书面——事实上你必须去问，因为还有突然冒出来的一个小问题。我不知道是谁的错，是我、是你还是拉斐尔的错，我们从未想起来问过，而他又从未想起来告诉我们，乌托邦在新世界的哪里。我的钱不多，但我却极为愿意拿出这些钱来弥补这一过失。一方面，这使我感到相当愚蠢，我毕竟写了关于这座岛屿的故事，但却不知道它位于哪个海里。另一方面，有一两位英格兰人想去那里。尤其是有一位虔诚的神学家，他极其渴望去访问乌托邦，并不是因为无聊好奇而想去，而是因为既然那里已经成功地将基督教介绍进去了，他想进一步推进。因为他希望正式推进基督教在当地发展，他已决定设法让教皇委派他去，并实际上创设乌托邦主教。任何恳求升任的顾虑不能够阻碍他的希望他认为这件事做起来极其正确，不是出于趋名逐利，而纯属是热情所驱。

因此，亲爱的彼得，如果你方便，能够安排面见一下拉斐尔或者是写信给他好吗？以确信我的这部作品写的东西都是全部真实的。也许你将该书拿给他看看就最好了，因为他是最有资格改正任何错误的人，而他也只有在通读全文之后才能够改好。另外，通过这种方式，你就能发现他对我所写的他的研究结果是怎么样的态度。因为如果他计划亲自来写他很可能不愿意我来代写——我当然也不应该将乌托邦过早地公布于众，使他的故事丧失新奇的魅力。

可是，说句实话，我还没有决定是否出版这部书。人们的口味差异很大，有的人极为严肃、有的人甚为苛刻、有的人偏执荒谬却对之加以蔑视，或者至少不表示感谢。大多数读者对文学一无所知——不少人蔑视文学。无文化教养的人对任何不是完全没文化的事情都难以理解。有文化修养的人对任何不是古文体的东西都认为粗俗加以反对。一些人仅仅喜欢古典作品，一些人仅仅是喜欢自己的作品。一些人极为严肃不喜欢各种笑话，其他人极为愚蠢，他们不能忍受风趣。一些人头脑迟钝，一听到一点讽刺话就害怕，就像狂犬病人听到水声一样。其他人每次站起来或坐下去都会得出不同的结论。然后，有一个旧经学派批评家，他们坐在公共酒店，以权威自居，随意谴责他人的作品。他们抓住你的作品，就像摔跤选手抓住对手的头发一样，将你摔倒，而他们自己却仍然保持不受任何伤害，因为他们无毛的脑袋完全光秃秃的——因此，没有你能够抓得住的东西。

另外，一些读者令人反感，即使他们极为欣赏一本书，但对作者却并无景慕之情。他们就像失礼的来客，受到丰盛的晚宴款待饱食之后，对邀请他们的主人一句感谢的话也没有，就回家去了。至于自愿向挑剔和不知其口味，又怀有深厚感激之情的那部分公众作出富有教益谈话的贤人，就不多说了。

但是，如我所说，一定要与拉斐尔取得联系。我之后还会想到其他问题——尽管现在开始对事物敏感已经真的晚了，我已经费尽气力写完了这本书。因此，如果他不反对的话，我是不是出版该书将听从我朋友的建议，尤其是要听从你的建议。

再见吧，我最最亲爱的彼得·贾尔斯，并向你美丽的妻子问好。对我的友爱始终如一吧，我比以前更加爱你了。

你忠实的

托尔斯·莫尔

贾尔斯致巴斯雷德的信

安特卫普

1516年11月1日

我亲爱的巴斯雷德：

有一天你的一个伟大朋友，托马斯·莫尔——我肯定你会同意他是我们当代的一大荣耀——将与世隔绝的乌托邦的描述寄给我。目前，还很少有人了解这个岛屿，但是每个人应该想了解它，因为他像柏拉图的《共和国》，但更好——因为它是由这样一个有天才的作者来描绘的。他把所有的事情如此栩栩如生地展现在人们眼前，通过阅读他的语句，我仿佛比过去拉斐尔的声音在我耳边回响时获得的图像更加清晰——因为交谈时我与莫尔就在一起。然而，拉斐尔讲得特别好。他显然不是在兜售别人的故事，确实是在描绘他自己在一个地方的经历，他在这里居住了相当长一段时间。我个人认为，他要比尤利西斯对这个世界的了解更多，我怀疑过去至少八百年中是否有过像他这样的人。他使我们感到万斯普赛绝对啥也没有看到。

这人好像在阐述方面也有特别的天赋——尽管我认为，与描绘我们所听到的事物相比，我们总是能够更加有效地描绘我们所看到的事物。但是，当我思索莫尔对同一主题的准图片式处理时，我有时得到的印象是我就实际生活在乌托邦。实际上，我诚实地认为，在他对这座岛屿的描述中，有比拉斐尔自己在其所呆五年间看到的东西更多。一个人能在每一页书上看到这么多精彩的事情，使我几乎不知道该首先或最羡慕的是什么——他的记忆异常准确，能够一句句地写出极长的演讲——他的聪明在于能够迅速掌握每个社会邪恶的现实和潜在的原因，尽管至今这还大半都并不为人所知——或者他那个人风格的力量和语言的流畅，他那处理各种话题的能力，并以正确的和强有力的拉丁语来表述——尤其是他被如此多的公务和家务所分心。但是，所有这一切对像他这样的杰出学者都似乎不必感到惊奇。另外，你对他是那么熟悉并且那么熟悉他那异常的超人智力，如果不是从正面来理解的话。

他所写的内容我再也想不出可以增加什么了——除了我以乌托邦语言添加了四行诗，拉斐尔在莫尔走了之后碰巧将这诗与乌托邦字母表一起给我看过。我还补充了几个页边注释。随便说一下，莫尔有一点担心因为他不知道那座岛屿的确切地址。事实上，拉斐尔的确提起过，但仅是十分简单和偶然提起，尽管他当时意思是之后还会谈到这个问题——因为某些不知晓的原因，我们两个不幸都没有听到。你知道正当拉斐尔触及到这一主题时，一个仆人来找莫尔并且在他耳边耳语了些什么。尽管这使得我极专注地听着，但就是那个时候他的一个同事大声咳嗽——我想他是在船上患了感冒——结果拉斐尔的话一点也没有听清楚。尽管如此，在不搞清楚这一点之前我是不会罢休的，直到能够告诉你这座岛屿的确切位置、纬度等。还有就是我们的朋友拉斐尔是否仍然安然无恙，因为我已经听到几个有关他的故事。有人说他已在旅途中死在某地了。有人说他已经返回祖国。还有人说他又回到了乌托邦，部分原因是他对乌托邦很怀旧，部分原因是因为他不能忍受欧洲人的行为。

你也许惊奇的是为什么在任何地理著作中都没有提到乌托邦，但是这个问题拉斐尔本人已给予圆满解决。他说很可能古代人已知道这座岛屿但名字不同，或者他们从来也没有听说过——因为现在总是发现一些旧地理书上从没提到过的国家。尽管如此，我也不必争论去证实我的观点，我能够求助于像莫尔这样的权威。

我理解并尊重使他犹豫是否出版该书的谦虚。尽管我个人认为，它是那种绝不应该压制那么长时间的书，而是应该尽快发行，最好是附上你的一封信推荐给世人——因为你对莫尔的天才有特别的认识，谁能比一个多年从事公共服务并以其智慧和诚实赢得高度赞扬的人更有资格将这些合理的思想介绍给公众呢？

向所有对学术成就的赞助人致以最良好的祝愿，你也是这个时代的荣耀。

你忠实的

彼得·贾尔斯

第一部

统治艺术的伟大专家、战无不胜的英王亨利八世与尊贵的卡斯提尔国王查理殿下二人之间，近期存有相当严重的意见分歧。英王派我出使法兰德斯去讨论并解决事端，和我同行的还有我的好朋友卡斯波特·特斯托尔，一个优秀的人最近被任命为案卷法官，大家都甚为满意。他的学问和优秀品德是我无话可说的——不是因为我担心似乎有赞成他的偏见，因为他们太出色了，我难以给出充分的描述，而且是太众所周知了，根本不需加以描述。我不想劳神于这些显而易见的事务。

按照卡斯提尔外交使节的事先安排，我们在布鲁日见面这些使节都是些杰出的、极为杰出的人。他们的名义领队是布鲁日的市长，一个严肃的人物，但是大多数思路和发言都是出自于加塞尔城的教会长乔治·德·塞姆塞克。此人是天生的好口才，又训练有素。他还是一位法律专家，不仅禀赋好而且是具有丰富经验的谈判高手。经过一两次会议之后，我们在若干问题上仍然没能达成一致看法，因此他们就向我们告别几天，到布鲁塞尔去听取他们国王的意见。这时，我因自己的事去了趟安特卫普。

我在那里的时候，有几个经常的来访者，但是我最喜欢的一个就是年轻的安特卫普本地人，名字叫彼得·贾尔斯他很受当地人的尊重，而且在那座城担任着重要的职位；他真是完全值得享有最崇高的地位，因为我说不出是哪一点对我印象最为深刻，是他的聪明才智还是他的优秀品德。当然，他是一个很优秀的人，也是一个很优秀的学者。他对每个人都一视同仁，对朋友更是真诚、坦率、关爱有加，他几乎就是唯一在各个方面称得起完美的朋友了。他异常的谦虚、完全的诚实而又极为单纯。他也是一个轻松愉快的交谈者，他那诙谐的谈吐不会伤害任何人的感情。我渴望回到英国去看望我的妻子和孩子，因为我离开家已经有四个多月了。他的愉快陪伴和愉快交谈在很大程度上减轻了我的思乡之情。

一天，我在圣母院做礼拜，这是一座华丽的教堂，挤满了人。我正想回宾馆，这时正巧看到了彼得·贾尔斯和一个上了年纪的陌生人在谈话，那人面孔黝黑，留着长长的胡子，肩上随意披着一件斗篷。从他的外貌和衣服我断定他是一个船员。就在这时，彼得看到了我。他立刻走过来打招呼，接着，我还没来得及回答，他就把我拉过去指着他刚刚与之交谈的那个人，问道：“你看见对面那个人了吗？我正想带他来见你。”

我回答说：“如果他是你的朋友，我当然很高兴见他。”

彼得说：“当你听说了他是哪种人的话，你肯定很高兴见他——因为当今没有人能像他一样能够告诉你那么多关于陌生国家和其居民的故事的了。我知道这是你急切想听到的东西。”

我说：“我猜得不太错吧，我一看到他，就想他是一个水手。”

“这一次你完全错了，”他回答道，“我的意思是，他不是巴里纽拉斯那样的水手。他更像是尤利西斯，或者甚至像柏拉图。你知道，我们的朋友拉斐尔——因为那就是他的名字，拉斐尔·诺森索——是一个大学者。他懂不少的拉丁语和大量的希腊语。因为他主要对哲学感兴趣，他集中力量研究希腊语。他发现这门学科使用拉丁语写的没有重要的东西除了辛尼加和西塞罗的一些东西。他想看看这个世界，因此他把管理葡萄牙家产的事交给了他的兄弟们——他是葡萄牙人——就加入了亚美利哥·韦斯普奇一行。你知道每个人读到他四次航行的情况吗？拉斐尔是他后三次航行中的持续不变旅伴，只是最后一次他没有陪他回来。相反，他实际上要挟亚美利哥让他成为留在那个要塞上的二十四个人之中的一员。因此，他就留在了那里，按照他的意愿沉溺于旅行，这是他真正关心的事情，他不介意他最终死于何地，他有两个最喜欢的俗话：‘死后没棺材，青天做遮盖’，以及‘通往天堂的路到处都一样’——要不是老天的保佑，他这种态度可能导致他极大的麻烦。尽管如此，在韦斯普奇走后，拉斐尔和其他五个留在要塞上的人作了许多探险。最后，一次意外的机会，他到了锡兰。从那里他转到了卡利卡特。在当地他幸运地遇到了几条葡萄牙船，最后又出乎意料地回到了本国。

“好，非常感谢你，”我说，“我当然喜欢与这样的人交谈你给我这样一个机会真是太感谢你了。”

我接着走向拉斐尔与他握手。就像人们初次介绍时通常所做的那样说了几句客套话，然后我们一同来到我住所的花园，在那里我们坐在草苔丛生的凳子上，开始更加自由的交谈。

拉斐尔首先告诉我们他和其他留在要塞上的人所发生的故事，从韦斯普奇离开他们谈起。通过礼貌和友好表现，他们渐渐迎合了当地居民。很快彼此不仅保持了平安相处的关系，而且还产生了好感。他们尤其是与某一位国王相处的很好，他的名字和国籍我已经忘记了。他非常慷慨地为拉斐尔及他的五个探险同伴提供了旅行的食物和资金，还有旅行涉及到使用的船只和车辆。他还提供了一位最为可靠的导游与其他各个国王取得联系，并给他们写了介绍信。就这样，在旅行了好几天之后，他们来到了一些大城镇和人口密集的地区，这里具有政治组织的高标准。

显然，在赤道上，遍及大多数炎热的地带，你能发现广饶沙漠被持续的炎热烤焦了。一切看上去都是那么可怕与荒凉。寸草不生，也无动物生活，只有毒蛇猛兽，或者是一样危险的人类。但是，如果你再往前走一些，情况逐渐好转。气候变得不那么酷热，地面上长满了可爱的青草，人和动物也没有那样凶猛。最后，你就到了人们居住的城镇。他们不仅彼此之间，或者与近邻之间，甚至于同相当遥远的国家都一直有着水陆贸易。

拉斐尔说：“这给了我四处旅游的机会，因为无论何时我发现有船只起航，我就问能否让我和我的朋友搭乘，他们总是很高兴让我们上船。我们最初见到的船都是平底的，帆都是由纸草或柳枝编成，也有是皮革的。可是，后来我们所遇到的船有尖龙骨和帆布品蓬，一般与我们的船就一样了。那里的水手还没有很好的风浪知识，但是我通过解释指南针的用法赢得了他们特别的好感。他们之前从来没有听说过指南针，因此一直相当害怕大海，除了夏天很少冒险出海。但现在由于信任指南针，冬天航海也不怕了——尽管这种新的安全感还纯粹是主观的。事实上，他们过于自信反倒将一项显然有用的发明变成灾难的根源。”

要重复一遍他告诉我们的每一个地方的每一件事情就需要太长的时间。另外，那也不是本书的意图。我也许会在另一本书里讲述他的故事，强调故事中最有教育意义的部分如他在不同的文明社会中所注意到的明智安排。这些是我向他热切提问的要点，而且他也乐于将此内容加以细说。我们没有问他是否见到过魔怪，因为魔怪已经不再是新闻了。也不乏一些可怕的捕食人类的动物，夺取人们的食物，或者吞噬这里的人群；但这样的事例在聪明的社会计划中是不容易找到的。

当然，在这个新的世界他看到了很多需要谴责的东西但他也发现了几个规则，可能为欧洲社会的改革提供一些方法。我已经说过，这些将留待以后再说。我当前的计划只是复述一下他所讲述的有关乌托邦的法律和风俗。

我必须从记录交谈开始，这就回到了最早提到过的这个共和国。在敏锐地指出地球两边都犯过的错误后——当然是有大量的错误——拉斐尔继续讨论新旧两个世界立法的更敏感特征。他似乎对每一个国家的事情都了如指掌——即使他在某处只停留一个晚上都好像呆过了一辈子。彼得·贾尔斯对此印象特别深刻。

彼得：我亲爱的拉斐尔，我不明白你为什么不到某个国王那儿去呢。我肯定任何国王都会急切地想抓住机会用你你的知识和经验，不仅可以提供娱乐，还可以提供指导性的先例和有益的建议。同时，你还可以寻求自己的利益，并对你所有的朋友和亲戚有帮助。

拉斐尔：我真的不担心他们。我感到我对他们已经尽了我的义务。很多人拥有自己的财产，直到年老多病也不肯放弃——即使放弃也很为勉强。但是我在很年轻也很健康的时候就将我的财产分给我的亲朋好友了。我想他们应该对此已经满足了。他们不能再进一步指望我为了他们的利益去做国王奴仆了。

彼得：说得好！我建议是协助而不是服侍国王。

拉斐尔：几个字母不会产生那么大差异。

彼得：那好吧，你爱怎么叫就随意吧，但我仍然认为这是你帮助个别人或一个集体的最好办法，并且也能使你的生活更愉快。

拉斐尔：我又怎么能够违背我的直觉去那样做呢？目前，我活得自由自在，我觉得我这要比大多数朝廷官员能够说的更多。另外，国王已经有相当多的人巴结他，缺了一两个像我这样的人他们也不会有什么大不了的困难。

莫尔：我亲爱的拉斐尔，你显然对金钱和权势不感兴趣，如果你是地球最伟大的国王的话，我对你的尊重将无以复加。但肯定的是，即使你是以个人的一些不便为代价，应用你的天赋和勤奋为公众谋福利，也是与你那令人欣赏的哲学态度一致的。要成功做到这一点，你就必须获得某个伟大国王的信任，我知道，你能够向他提供真正的好建议。因为每一个国王都是一种源泉，涌出的是能够不断造福或危害全国人民的甘露或雨水。你有这么丰富的理论知识和丰富的实践经验，任何一个方面都足以使你成为一个理想的议事会成员。

拉斐尔：我亲爱的莫尔，你真搞错了，首先对我而言，其次是对工作本身而言。我不像你所说的那么高明，即使我是这样，通过给我自己增加许多额外工作，我仍然不能为公众做出一点点有益的事情。首先，几乎所有国王对战争科学更感兴趣——对此我一窍不通，并且也不想弄通——而不是对和平时期的有益技术感兴趣。他们更关心的是采取什么方式去夺取新的王国，而不是治理好现有王国。另外，朝廷大臣都个个聪明而自负，无需从别人那里听取意见——尽管他们当然总是巴结国王宠臣们，同意那些他们所说的最为愚蠢的话。毕竟，人人都喜欢自己的话语能够吸引别人，这是人的本性。这就像乌鸦总是受到父母的喜爱，母猴子总是发现自己的猴宝宝极为漂亮一样。

因此，在那里你有一群人极其看不起别人的观点，或者是他们自以为是。假设在这一群人中你建议一项你看来在别处被采纳的政策，或者你因此而引用历史范例，将会发生什么呢？他们的表现就好似他们的职业声誉受到危害，如果他们不能够对你的建议提出一些反对意见的话，他们的余生就显得极为愚蠢。一旦其他都不能奏效时，他们就使出最后一招说：“这对我们祖先来说是够好的了，我们是什么人竟质疑他们的明智？”他们坐回到自己的椅子上，怀有一种就此事我不再多说一句话的神态——就好似谁要是比他的祖先更明智的话，那将是巨大的灾难！然而，我们并不准备彻底改变他们最明智的决定。只是那些不够明智的决定我们才紧紧抓住不放。在很多地方我就碰到过这种傲慢、愚蠢和固执。有一次甚至在英国我也遇见过。

莫尔：真的吗？那么，你也去过我的国家了？

拉斐尔：当然去过了。我在那里呆了几个月，就是在那场可怕的大战之后不久，那场战争是以西方国家的一场革命开始的，以对反叛者可怕的大屠杀为结局的。在我逗留期间我得到了最受人尊敬的坎特伯雷大主教约翰·莫顿的关心，他也是英国当时的大法官。我必须给你讲述一下他的事，彼得——因为我敢说没有他不知道的事情。他是一位才智非凡、德高望重、非常令人尊重的人。他中等身材，尽管他年事已高，但一点也不弯腰驼背，他那张面孔总是和蔼可亲，任何人也不会感到害怕。尽管他总是很严肃而有威严，但他却很容易相处。不可否认，他对那些求他找工作的人会粗鲁些，但并没有伤害的意味。他这样做主要是来考验一下他们的智力和心理素质，因为他发现这些素质很相似，只要他们谨慎使用，这些素质也最为适于公职。他言辞精炼，讲话注意效率，而且精通法律知识。他有十分杰出的理解力和记忆力，他这两种天赋经过训练和实践得以进一步发展。

显然，国王很信任他的判断，我在这里访问时似乎整个国家都要依靠他。这几乎一点也不令人感到意外，因为他经历了从大学到法院直接转化，当他刚不算是一个儿童的时候，就参与了公共事务，要处理一系列的危机，这一艰难的历程造就了他远见卓识。这样所学的东西是不容易忘记的。

有一次我碰巧与大主教一起进餐，当时一个英国律师也在场。我忘了是怎样谈起这个话题，但他以极大的热情谈到了对盗窃者所采取的严厉措施。

“我们随处将他们执行死刑，”他说道，“我见到过一个绞刑台就有二十人之多。这就是我所发现的奇怪事。你想很少有人漏网，为什么还有那么多盗窃犯呢？”

“这有什么奇怪呢？”我问道——因为我在大主教面前从来都是毫无忌讳地说话。“这种处理盗窃犯的方法既不公正也不是社会所期望的。作为一种处罚，它过于严厉了，但是作为一种威慑，也是无效的。小的盗窃罪不足以处以死刑，而如果只有盗窃才是他们获得食物的唯一办法的话，世界上死刑也不能制止人们盗窃。在这方面，你们英国人和其他很多国家的人一样，使我想到不称职的教书匠，他们宁可灌输学生而不去教育他们。一个好得多的办法是为每个人提供谋生之道，而不是对之施以可怕的刑法，这样任何人就不至于冒着始而盗窃继而被处死的危险。”

“对此我们已经有了足够的规定，”律师回答说，“有很多营生他们可以做。田地里也总是有活需要干。如果他们想老实谋生的话，也不困难，但是他们还是有意选择走犯罪的道路。”

“你不能轻易摆脱这种情况，”我说，“我们暂且不论那些残疾的士兵，为了国王和国家在对内或者对外战争中致残——或许是与康瓦尔叛军作战，或者是不久前与法国作战当他回到家园，却发现由于身体致残已不能从事先前的行当由于年龄太大又学不了其他行当。依我来说，我们暂且不考虑这些人，因为战争只是断断续续的现象。我们就来说每天都在发生的事情。

“首先，大批贵族像雄蜂一样靠别人的劳动养活自己换句话说，靠在自己田庄上做活的佃农养活自己，通过不断提高租金压榨他们的血汗。因为这就是他们唯一的赚钱的方法——否则的话他们总是过度铺张浪费，很快破产。而且还带有一大批游手好闲的随从，他们从未学习过任何谋生的手段。他们的主人一旦亡故，或者他们自己一旦生病，就会立刻被赶出去——因为那些贵族宁愿养活那些闲客，也不愿养活病号。贵族的继承人也往往无力像先人那样维持偌大的门户。这些人如果不借用暴力，就只好挨饿。他们还有别的办法吗？当然，他们可以四处流浪直到衣衫褴褛、身体虚弱不堪。然而，在这种情况下，没有任何绅士会屈尊雇用他，农民也不会冒险去雇用他——因为他不会为了些微薄的报酬和温饱而老老实实地拿起锄头汗流浃背地帮一个穷人干活，他们在奢侈中长大，并习惯于穿着军装大摇大摆，看不起任何其他的邻居。”

“但是，我们要加以鼓励的就是这种人，”律师反驳说，“在战争年代，他是军队的支柱，因为他比普通的商人或者农民都更有精神和自尊。”

“你或许也会说，”我说，“为了战争的目的你必须鼓励盗窃。好吧，你们肯定少不了盗窃犯，只要你那样看待那些人。当然，你的确是对的——盗窃犯确实能成为能干的兵，而兵也能成为有事业心的盗窃犯。这两种职业有很多相通的地方。然而，这种毛病在你们国家尽管很猖獗，但它并不仅限于英国。它实际上流传于整个世界。比如法国，就患有一种更加严重的灾难。即使在和平时期，整个法国到处都挤满了雇佣兵——如果你这样称呼的话——这与英国养一批懒散的随从的原因很是一样。你知道，专家决定，为了公共安全必须拥有一支强有力的常备军，包括的主要是老兵——因为他们不太信任新兵，他们精心地发动战争以锻炼这些新兵，使他们盲目杀人就像是塞拉斯特所说的不能放着手不用，“就是要不断用手。”

“因此，法国通过伤心的经历才认识到养着这批野蛮畜牲是多么危险，但是，罗马、迦太基、叙利亚和许多其他国家历史上也有许多类似的教训。常备军一次一次抓住机会推翻雇佣他们的政府，毁灭了他们的土地和城市。而且这支常备军也是相当不必要的。事实已经很显然，经过精心训练的法国士兵也不能经常夸口能够战胜新招来的士兵——这点我不想多谈，以免好像在奉承你们。

“另外，一般对你所提到的那种类型的人，无论是城里的商人，还是农村里的无知农民，他们都不会害怕那些懒散的随从——除了那些身体不够健壮和勇猛者，或者那些家境贫困而意志消沉者。事实上，尽管这些随从开始时体格强健——因为绅士所要腐蚀的正是他手下的这些人——他们很快就因为无所事事、缺乏男子汉的气概、自吹自擂而趋于衰弱。因此，他们失去男子汉的气魄也不是太大的事，如果他们学会从事有用的生意和像男子汉一样工作。无论如何，我都不明白，养一大批这样扰乱和平的人以准备战争，是可能出于公共的利益？如果你不想战争的话就不必有战争，而和平是无比的重要。

“但这还不是唯一迫使人盗窃的事。还有其他因素在起作用，这就是你们这个国家的特色情况了，我认为。

“那是什么呢？”大主教问道。

“羊，”我告诉他，“这种驯服的动物，一向要求很少的食物，现在明显变得极为贪婪，变成了吃人的动物。田地、房屋城镇，一切的一切都被他们吃掉了。更明确地说，在王国的那些出产最精致最贵重羊毛的地方，贵族和绅士们，就不用说几个圣人之类的主教了，他们对祖传地产上的收入感到不够满意了。他们不再满足于过闲适安逸的生活，这对生活一点益处也没有——他们还积极主动地要危害社会，通过将所有的田地圈起来作为牧场，不留下可以耕种的土地。他们甚至拆除房屋、毁掉城镇——当然，只留下教堂作为羊栏。尽管他们浪费于丛林和运动场地的土地还不多，这些人还毁掉了人们居住的地方，并把每块地变为荒野。

“因此，会发生什么事呢？每一个贪婪的个体都在像恶魔一样在危害他的国家，一块一块的占有土地，用一条栏栅把数千英亩地圈上。结果就是——成百上千农民被驱逐。他们有的是被欺骗或者是被迫放弃自己的财产，或者是受尽屈辱直到最后被迫卖掉自己的财产。无论是哪一种方式，这些不幸的人只好离开家园——男人、女人、丈夫、妻子、寡妇、孤儿、母亲和小孩，还有他们的雇工——人数多但不是财富的象征，只是这样一个事实，就是你没有足够的劳动力就无法种田。他们离开了他们太熟悉的家园，他们找不到任何可以安身的地方。他们的全部家当，即使能够等到适合的买主，也值钱不多。但是他们等不起，因此他们的家当卖钱很少。他们在流浪中花完这点钱之后，他们只好去盗窃而正适于被绞死吗？当然，他们总是可以成为流浪汉或者沿街乞讨，即使是这样，他们也会被作为无所事事的流浪汉抓进监狱——尽管他们极其想找到工作，但没有人愿意雇佣他们。因为他们过去就是干农活的，但没有了可以种的地，也就没有农活可干。毕竟，需要多人劳动才能产生粮食的地，用于牧羊，只需要一个牧人就够了。

“同理，粮食的生产在很多地区更贵了，而羊毛的价格也急剧高涨，穷织工买不起羊毛，这就意味着许多人就会失业。这部分地是因为一场瘟疫传染病的降临，这场疾病就在耕地改为牧场之后不久，大量羊群死亡。就好像是对土地所有者因贪婪做出的判决一样——只是他们应该患上这种病，而不是由羊来代替。

“尽管有很多羊，有了羊的市场，但羊的价格却没有降低因为如果严格来讲不是垄断，也就是说并不是只有卖家——只有一个卖家的话就是垄断了。我的意思是说它几乎全部被几个富人所控制，这些富人不想卖，就不必要卖，而他们得不到要求的价格，就不想卖。这也是其他各类牲畜同样高价的原因，尤其是鉴于因为农田被毁、农业大萧条而造成的无人从事饲养牲畜。因为我所谈论的富人绝不会自己去养羊或养牛，他们只是从别人那里廉价买了瘦弱的牛羊，在他们自己的牧场把它们喂肥了，再高利润卖出。我认为这就是为什么这种情况的全部影响人们还没有感觉到。直到现在，他们仅在出售牲畜的地方高抬价格，但是，他们如果在其他地方不断采购牲畜，超过该地饲养的速度，来源市场将会逐渐减少，直到最后各处都出现牲畜短缺。

“这样，几个贪婪的人把英国最大的自然优势之一变成了一个国家灾难。因为食物的高价位使得雇主大量减少雇佣人数——这就不可避免地意味着把那些人变为乞丐或盗贼。盗窃对有精神的人就更容易了。

“更为糟糕的是，这一令人可怜的贫穷又多与奢侈生活不协调地联系在一起。仆人、商人、甚至农场的劳动者，实际上社会的各个阶层都在讲究穿着、纵情吃喝。想想有多少妓院包括那些以酒店、餐馆为名的场所。想想人们玩得那些不正当的游戏——骰子、纸牌、十五子棋戏、网球、滚木球、掷圈环——这都是让人很快把钱花光的办法，并把他径直送上盗窃之路。

“除掉这些害人的实践吧。制定法律来规定人人有责将毁坏的农田或乡镇恢复，或转交给那些愿意恢复的人。禁止富人囤积居奇和实际垄断市场。减少无所事事的人。振兴农业和羊毛工业，以便为那一批未被雇佣的人充分提供诚实而有用的工作——未被雇佣的大军我指的不仅是那些现有的盗贼，而且还有流浪汉和无所事事的帮闲，他们最终也将沦为盗窃犯。你不把这些事情搞好了，你就无权夸口如何公正惩罚盗窃犯，因为正义比现实的需求和社会的需求更为珍贵。你们让这些人在最为糟糕的方式下生长，并且他们从很小的时候起就逐步堕落起来。最后，他们长大成人，走向犯罪，这是他们注定要走的犯罪道路，早从他们儿童时代，你就开始惩罚他们。换句话说，你造就了盗窃犯，却继而因他们盗窃而惩罚他们。”

我还没讲完，那个律师就准备给予答复。很显然，他是采用重复而不是答复的那种辩论方法的人——就好像他有一个好的记忆力就万事大吉了。

“那是一个很好的努力，”他说道，“尤其是对于一个获得间接信息的外国人，所以不够准确——正如我还要简要说明一样。我将你所说的依次举出，然后我指明你在何处因对当地情况无知所犯的错误。最后，我要批驳你的所有观点。按照这个顺序，我认为你有四个方面——”

“等一下，”大主教打断说，“这样介绍之后，你的答复似乎不会三言两语就能讲完。因此，现在就不要讲了——下次见面再讲好了。如果你们两个明天有空的话，为什么不明天讲呢？同时，我亲爱的拉斐尔，我很想听听你为何反对盗窃犯适用死刑呢？而且你认为处以什么样的刑罚才对社会更有好处呢？我深信，即使是你也感觉到盗窃应该禁止。尽管规定了死刑，但盗窃依然盛行，如果他们不再担心被处死，究竟什么力量可以制止犯罪、什么威慑力才能见效？当然，任何减刑都将被解释为一种对犯罪的积极的诱导。”

“大主教阁下，”我说，“一个人因为他拿走了点钱就得丧失生命，这对我来说是太不公道了。我认为，再多的财产也比不上人的生命宝贵。如果说这种惩罚不是由于金钱被盗而是由于违反法律、侵犯正义，这一绝对正义的概念不就是绝对的不正义吗？人民真的不能认可一种体制如此独断，一点轻微的犯法就被处死，也反对斯多葛学派的律条，所有的犯罪都等量齐观——杀人和盗窃在法律上没有任何区别，尽管在公正方面这两件事情如此完全不同。

“上帝命令‘你不准杀人’——我们能把偷盗一小笔钱的盗窃者处死吗？如果这种戒律仅适用于非法杀害，有什么可以禁止人们类似地同意将强奸、私通和伪誓合法化呢？鉴于上帝甚至禁止我们杀害自身，我们真的能够相信在没有上帝的权威，纯粹是人类的规定可以互相残杀，就使杀人者不受第六戒律的制约吗？那不就更像是说这一特别的戒律不比人定的法律更有效吗？——在这种情况下，这一原则可以无限延伸，直到生活的一切领域，人类有权决定应在多大程度上执行上帝的戒律。

“根据摩西的法律（从良心上看够严厉的了，它是为那时的奴隶和反叛者设定的），盗窃者不被绞死，而仅仅是罚款我们简直无法想象，在慈悲为怀的新法律中训示我们如同父亲对待儿女一样慈悲的上帝，他竟然比旧法律更允许我们彼此残忍相待。

“所以，这就是我提反对意见的道德依据。从现实的观点来看，显然，以同样的方式惩罚盗贼和杀人犯不仅是荒唐的，而且对公众是极其危险的。如果盗贼知道杀人犯获罪并不比盗窃获罪更重的话，他自然就会杀害那个他本来只是想抢劫的人。这样如果他被逮住的话，结果也不会更糟，并且由于杀人灭口更能够掩盖罪行从而有机会逃脱。这样，我们虽然使用酷刑威慑盗窃犯，却事实上丛恿他们杀害无辜。

“现在回到那个普通的问题上来——什么样的惩罚更好些？我发现这个问题很难回答，如果你问我什么惩罚更为糟糕的话。那么，我们为何怀疑一种制度的价值呢，罗马的管理者发现长期沿用这一制度而感到满意？正如我们所知，他们让那些判刑的重犯带上镣铐，终身在矿山或采石场服刑。

“尽管如此，我所了解的最好的一种安排是我在波斯旅行时见到的，就是通常被称之为陶斯陶瑞亚的一个地区。陶斯陶瑞亚人组成一个庞大又组织良好的社区，除了要给波斯国王交税以外，完全自治。因为他们离海很远，实际上被群山环绕着，他们自给自足，土地肥沃，与外部很少联系。他们绝对不想扩大疆域，他们有群山作为屏障，并向波斯伟大的国王缴纳保护费，因此它社会安全，不受外界侵略。这就意味着他们免除了兵役，因此他们的生活不算奢侈但安逸，不算真的出名或者荣耀但幸福——因为除了他们的近邻之外，我想很少有人曾经听说过他们。

“在陶斯陶瑞亚，一个人犯了盗窃罪必须将所盗窃财物归还失主，不像其他许多国家，要交给国王——根据陶斯陶瑞亚的法律，国王和盗窃犯都没有权利获得赃物。如果盗窃的物品已经不再为盗贼所有，就扣除他的个人财产，剩余的财产交给他的妻子儿女。他本人判处劳役。除非是使用暴力抢劫，他就不会被监禁或戴上脚镣，但可以自由行走并被雇佣为公众服劳役。如果他放弃劳动、行动迟缓，他们也不会给他戴上锁链束缚手脚——他们通过鞭挞以使其加快速度。如果他工作努力的话，就根本不会受到很差的待遇。他要每天晚上回答点名，夜里要关起来——但是，除了要干很长时间的活之外，生活还是相当舒服。

“比如说，食物很好，由公家开支，因为罪犯是替公家干活。凑集这笔资金的办法各地都不一样。在一些地区，资金来自自愿捐赠。这种办法虽不稳定，但实际上比其他任何办法都筹集的多，因为当地人非常慈善。有的地方，拨出部分公共的税收或按人头征收一项特殊赋税来支付该项费用。也有的地方，罪犯不是为公众服劳役，而是受雇于私有企业任何需要他们干活的人都可以去市场上雇佣他们，按日发给固定工资，但工资要比雇佣自由劳动力低得多。如果他们劳动不够努力，雇主可以鞭打。这一体制保证了他们绝不会失业他们靠工作养活自己，同时犯人还每天为国库增加收入。

他们都穿着一种特殊颜色的服装，别人是不穿的。他们也不剃光头，但把两耳上面的头发剪短，且削去一个耳垂允许他们的朋友给他们食物和饮料，以及符合规定颜色的衣服。但对送钱或收钱的人来说都是死罪。自由人无论什么理由如接受任何奴隶（定罪犯人通常被如此称呼）的钱，或者奴隶接触武器，都同样会冒被处死的危险。

“每个奴隶都挂一个标牌以标明他属于哪个区域，取下标牌，不在自己的区域，或与其他区域的奴隶交谈，都构成死罪对于逃跑来说，密谋逃亡和实际逃亡是同样的冒险。对任何逃亡计划同谋者，若是奴隶则被处死，若是自由民则罚令为奴隶。相反，揭发逃亡计划的自由人将获得现金奖励，若揭发者是奴隶，则恢复自由。在任何一种情况下，对以上两种人都免于追究其同谋的罪行，其原则是：作恶到头的人决不能比及早回头的人更安全。

“这就是这一体制怎么样运行的，显然它是最为便利也最为人道的。它严厉惩罚犯罪，但却挽救罪犯的性命，以这种方式对待他们，使他们变成好公民，用自己的后半生弥补过去犯下的罪过。

“事实上，他们很少有重新犯罪的危险。对于长途旅行者来说，他们通常被认为是最为安全的向导，旅行者可以雇佣他们打接力，走过一个地区就雇佣该区域的奴隶。你知道，奴隶没有劫路的工具。他们不允许携带武器。如发现他们身上带钱，就证明他们有罪。他们如果一旦被捕，自然就会受到惩罚。他们要想逍遥法外是一点希望都没有——因为他们的衣服和通常人的衣服绝无相同之处，除非赤身上路，怎么能够逃走而不被发现呢？——即使赤身上路，你的耳朵也会背叛你，让人认出来。

“当然，也有一种理论上冒险，就是他们可能开始密谋推翻政府。但是任何一个地区的奴隶怎么样能够组织一个大规模的举动而无需先对其他许多地区的奴隶进行试探或煽动呢？这根本是不可能的。他们连见面都不允许，不能交谈、不能打招呼，更别说共同密谋了。另外，你能否设想一下奴隶会高兴地将一个密谋泄露给他同一个区域的其他奴隶，但隐瞒密谋者是危险的，而告发者会得到很大好处？另一方面，每个奴隶都希望恢复自由，只有按照要求去做，并能让当局有理由信任他将来能走向正路——因为每年都有一批这样的人由于服从管教而被豁免。”

我接着说道，我不明白为何英国不采用这一制度。这要比被律师高度赞扬的所谓司法措施产生更好的效果。

听到这话，我们那位有学问的朋友——我指的是那位律师——摇了摇头。

他轻蔑地一笑说道，“这套制度绝不可能在英国采用，它会将整个国家搞得极为危险。”

那是他所说的所有的话——实际上每个其他人都同意他的观点。

然后，大主教发表了自己的观点。

他说，“不给予实验，就难以预测这一体制是否奏效。但是假设国王如果要在实验阶段推迟执行死刑——先废除所有庇护权。如果结果好的话，我们再长期执行就是正当的。如果结果不好的话，原来的判刑仍将执行，这比起现在就执行也一样有利于社会，而且一样公正。同时，也没有任何危害事实上，我认为以同样的方式对待游民也根本不是一个坏办法。我们总是制定法律来制裁他们，但截止到目前，一点效果也没有。”

大主教的这一番话，使大家赞叹不已，但在从我口里提出时，没有人当作一回事。他们尤其是喜欢涉及游民的部分因为那是大主教自己的意见。

也许，我应该省略谈话的后半部分，因为那是很不严肃的。不过我还是得讲，它本身无害，而且与我们讨论的问题有关。当时在场的有一位清客，他想给人只是扮演一下滑稽动作，但扮演的太滑稽了。他让人笑的努力确实无效，人们倾向于笑他本人而不是笑他的笑话。但有时他的话讲得还不错，这就证明了如下谚语的真实性：如果你最初不成功，就不停地一遍遍地尝试。有一个人通过评论大主教和我之间解决盗窃犯和游民的问题作出暗示，所以只剩下来确定适当的国家行动方案，以应对那些年龄太大或者是因疾病而无法谋生的穷人。

“这就交给我吧，”这位清客说道，“我会确切告诉你该做什么。事实上，我最巴不得将这类人从我面前打发走。他们总是纠缠着我讨钱，发出凄惨的呼号声——一张形式的乐曲，但我从来是分文不给，往往发生的不外乎两种情况——或者是我不愿意给钱，或者是我手头空空，无钱可给。因此，他们现在学会不再浪费精力了。当他们看见我经过时，就让我过去，一言不发。他们知道我或许是一位牧师，再也不想从我这里得到什么帮助了。现在，我提出一条法令，把全部乞丐分配到各个班尼提科特寺院去，男的去当勤杂工——那是对和尚的专业术语，女的当尼姑。”

大主教微笑着，像玩笑似的表示同意。其他人也都这样，忍着不笑。只有一个修道士例外，他明显是研究神学的。他平常是那种极其严肃的人，但他对取消牧师与和尚颇感兴趣，因此他也想取笑一番。

“啊，你不可能那么容易使乞丐绝迹，”他说道，“你对我们这些托钵僧修道士怎么办？”

“可是，这已经给予关照了呀，”那位清客回答道，“大主教那了不起的规定把流浪者管禁起来，让他们工作，这你不记得了吗？”

大家都看了大主教一眼，见他接受这些话，并且也没有表示不同意，因此评论受到鼓掌欢迎——只有修道士例外。那是不足为奇的，他在这番讽刺的冲击下，大发雷霆、破口大骂。他骂对方时把能想到的脏话都用上了，包括恶魔的儿子还从《圣经》中引用了一些可怕的咒语。

这时，小丑开始认真地嘲笑起来，他显然感到得意自如。

“我亲爱的修道士，”他说，“你不必如此生气。你知道《圣经》所说，‘你们常存忍耐就能拥有灵魂’。”

“你这该死的东西，我倒不是生气，”修道士嚷道——那就是他的原话，“或者如果我生气了，但我没有错”。但是圣歌中这样唱道，“你生气吧，但不要犯罪”。

大主教很温和地告诫修道士不应该发脾气。

“我发脾气，大人，”他说，“我发脾气没有错。我说话出于一颗善良的热切之心，圣洁的人是有热切之心的。因此圣书说，‘你殿堂的热情将我吞噬’，或者是我们在教堂中所唱的圣歌：

人们嘲笑伟大的以利沙

当他走向讲台时

秃头者的热心受到惩罚

我想那个开玩笑的家伙也许同样有所感受。

“你的热情肯定值得信赖，”大主教说道，“但是我觉得你若是不和一个傻瓜争论使你自己显得也犯傻的话，你的行为未必使你显得更有道行，但肯定显得更加聪明。”

“不，大人，”修道士反驳说，“我不会显得更加聪明，因为有谁能够比所罗门聪明呢？所罗门说过：‘按照傻瓜的傻话回答傻瓜’——我现在就是这样做的。我向他指出他如不小心就会掉进去的无底深坑。在以利沙那种情况下，有四十二位和尚反对一个秃头者，他的热心足以惩罚他们。这儿一个和尚反对信奉基督教国家的所有的修道士，而秃头的人数所占比例很高，这个人的感觉就是那么的糟糕呀！另外，我们还有教皇的谕旨，它禁止任何人取笑我们，对取笑者可以开除教籍。”

看到这件事将没完没了，大主教示意清客走开，机智地转到另一个话题。几分钟之后，他站起身把我们打发走，因为他得去会见一些请他帮助的人们。

亲爱的莫尔，恐怕我的啰唆故事也真使你听起来够累的了。要不是你很想听——并且你听得那么聚精会神，我觉得你不愿我略去谈话中的任何一个部分，我真不好意思讲这么长时间。尽管如此，谈话似乎值得重复，哪怕只是讲个大概，以便你能了解这些人的思维方式。你知道，他们对我所说的一切都很轻蔑，而看到大主教对这些话也不反对——他们接着就都表示赞同。他们如此奉承大主教，甚至于准备鼓掌，对他的马屁精的建议也几乎当真，仅仅是因为大主教当做万象而不加反对。由此你可以猜测人们对我和宫廷对我的建议会多么的轻视。

莫尔：“我亲爱的拉斐尔，我喜欢这个故事中的每一个字。你所说的每一件事有这么多的智慧和学问。另外，它使我不仅回到了英国，而且有一种回到我童年的感觉——它使我愉快地想起大主教，我就是在他家长大的。我一开始就喜欢你，我亲爱的拉斐尔，但是你真难相信我是多么因此更加对你有好感了。然而，我仍然禁不住认为，你如果能够克服对宫廷生活的厌恶，你的建议将对公众极为有利。作为一个善良的人，这是你的责任。你爱读的作家柏拉图这样说过——只要哲学家做国王或是国王从事哲学研究，国家才有康乐。假如哲学家甚至不屑于向国王献计进言，康乐将是一件多么无限遥远的事情呀！”

拉斐尔：“噢，哲学家还没有那么坏。他们只是不愿意提出建议——事实上，许多哲学家在他们出版的著作中已经这样做了——只要是统治者能够听从他们的建议。这无疑是与柏拉图的意思是一样的。他意识到国王受童年时错误思想的影响太深不会接受任何哲学家的建议，除非他们自己成为哲学家。柏拉图从自己与代俄尼喜阿交往的经验中，学到了以上真理。假如我告诉国王让他制定明智的法律，彻底清除他心灵中的毒素，难道你料想不到我会不是马上被撵走就是受到奚落吗？

例如，假如我在法国，参加内阁会议。国王亲自主持会议，所有谋臣围坐在桌旁，都在殷勤地讨论解决如下问题的方式和方法：怎样能够占住米兰不放，夺回失去的那不勒斯然后击败威尼斯，征服意大利；更进而通知法兰德斯、布拉邦特，最终控制整个勃艮底——就不用提及那些他早就梦想入侵的其他国家了。

一个谋臣建议和威尼斯达成协定，只要法王认为便利协定便持续下去。他有事要与他们商议，并让他们享受一部分掠夺物，等到事情如愿以偿，不妨索回原物。另一位谋臣提出招募德意志雇佣兵，还有谋臣想贿赂瑞士人。更有谋臣要国王用黄金作为可以接受的礼物，消解神圣罗马帝国的怒气。又有谋臣献计须与阿拉贡国王言归于好。作为和平的保证应把属于别人的纳瓦尔国割让给他。同时，也还有谋臣建议让卡斯提尔国王上钩，使他指望与法国联姻，并用固定的年金收买他宫廷上某些贵族，使之支持法国。

现在有一个最为苦恼的问题——怎么样对付英国？显然，第一步必须安排和平谈判，对于一个脆弱的联盟，充其量只能通过严肃的契约去加强，称他们为朋友，但必须把他们看作潜在的敌人。所以，苏格兰人必须有所准备，英格兰人一有动静，就让苏格兰人抓住机会对他们下手。也可能要暗中支持某个流亡在外的贵族——既有条约，就不好公开支持——赞助他对于英国王位的要求，借此限制一个不堪信任的国王。

在这一问题上，大家都很卖力，许多杰出的人才都在提出属于战争性质的建议，而我这个无足轻重的拉斐尔站起来提出完全不同的方针。我建议国王忘了意大利、呆在本国。我告诉他法国已经够大的了，一个人难以治理好，因此，真的不必要为拓宽疆土担忧了。

然后，我就给他讲述乌托邦岛东南方闹兰迪亚国家的历史故事。依据一些古老的婚姻关系，闹兰迪亚国王认为自己是另一个王国的合法继承人，因此，他的人马发动了战争以夺取该王国。最后他们赢得了胜利，结果却发现要保住这个王国带来的麻烦与夺去它所花的气力一样大，经常有内部叛乱和外部入侵的骚扰，他们不得不经常作战加以保护或加以制裁，因而绝没有机会退伍，同时他们也就堕落了。他们的金钱流出国外，他们为了别人的区区野心而献出生命。国内的情况也不比战争时更安全，因为受到杀人和盗窃风气的鼓励，道德风尚败坏。法律受到蔑视，因为国王要关注两个王国，因此任何一个王国都不能治理得宜。

鉴于如果他们对此采取一些措施的话，这种令人失望状况就将肯定持续下去。闹兰迪亚人最终决定采取一个行动就是非常礼貌地请求国王看他想保留哪一个王国。

“你不能两个都保留，”他们解释道，“因为半个国王难以统治那么多人。因为即使我们是许多强人，照顾我们还是一个全身心的工作。

因此，这位模范的国王被迫将这个新的王国让给了一位朋友——自己去管理原来的王国——他的朋友后来不久就被赶走了。

我也提醒法国国王，即使他的确开始了这些战争，并在所有这些不同国家制造混乱，他仍然会发现他已经毁掉了自己，还毁掉了他的人民，最后却一场空。所以，我建议他集中精力将祖传的王国治理好，尽力使之美丽而繁荣，爱惜臣民并为臣民所爱，同他们一同生活并妥善对他们加以管理放弃所有拓宽疆域的念头，因为他所统辖的土地对他已经绰绰有余了。

那么，你告诉我，亲爱的莫尔，你认为他将怎样回应我的建议？

莫尔：不是太好，我必须承认。

拉斐尔：现在我们再设想另一种情况。假设国王的某些财政谋士筹划如何聚敛财富。某个人建议国王在支付时将货币升值，当他收进时，可将其贬值。这样就可以产生如下效果即刻增加他的收入减少他的支出。另一个人建议国王应该虚张声势作战，为他额外税收提供借口。然后，在他自己认为合适的时候庄严地讲和，作出姿态好像是为了老百姓的利益因为慈悲的统治者不忍心生灵涂炭。第三个人提醒他一些过时的法典，因长期不用而荒废的法典——每个人都触犯它，因为没有人意识到它的存在——督促国王对不遵守法典的人课以罚金。这是最大的生财之道，且最为名正言顺，又以执法为幌子。第四个人建议他对一些犯罪通过立法规定严厉罚款，尤其是处罚反社会类型的犯罪。这样，他可以从出卖这些法律免责权来收取金钱。这就可以保证受到公众的欢迎，又有双重进项：既向贪图横财而陷入法网的人勒索罚金，又从另一些人收取专门的管理金。当然，这些价格是依据国王的道德品质的比例而变化。他的原则越高，他就越不愿意让任何人侵害公共利益——因此这种特别管理费也就越高。

第五个人建议国王将法官约束起来，这样他们总是做出有利于国王的判决。他应该召见法官到王宫，向他们当面咨询他的法律地位。他可能明显很是不当，但其中一个法官肯定能够发现一个击败正义的漏洞。无论是他这样做的动机是什么——或是存心不同于别人，或是不喜欢明显的东西，或是仅仅为邀宠——结果都一样。很快，每个法官都会有自己的不同意见，会出现争议，最简单的事实要受到质疑。这就正好给国王一个很好的机会来根据自己的利益解释法律。每个人都会同意，或者是害怕，或者是出于礼貌。最后，这一解释大胆地作为法庭的判决。毕竟，有很多种方法来证明国王做出的判决是合理的。或者颠倒其意思，或者是凭借无可争议的国王特权，对有责任心的法官来说，国王特权高出任何法律。

大家都赞成格拉苏的名言，就是如果你要维持一个部队，你的钱总是不够的。大家一般也都同意一个国王即使他很想做错事，他也不能做，因为一切都归国王所有，包括这个国家的每一个人，并且私人财产是不存在的，除非国王足以善良而不去巧取豪夺。他应该总是减少这种临时私有财产的最低限度，因为他的安全依赖于禁止他的国民过于富有或过于自由。因为国民一旦拥有过多的财富和自由，就不愿意忍受不公正和压迫。但贫困可以使他们迟钝而顺服，遏制他们高贵的反抗精神。

这时，我起身争辩，说做这些事情不是明智之举，且有损于国王的荣誉，因为他的威望和安全系于国民的富裕，而不是系于自己的富裕。

我问他，“你为什么不认为他们选出你做国王首先是为了他们自己的利益，而不是你的利益呢？他们的意图是让你勤于朝政，使他们的生活更加安逸，保护他们免受不公待遇因此，国王的工作就是关心国民而不是你个人的幸福——正如牧羊人的工作，严格来说，他的工作就是喂饱羊，而不是喂饱他自己。至于国民穷就能维持安全的理论，是与事实完全矛盾的。乞丐是社会上争吵最凶的一部分人。还有比不满于生活现状的人更可能造反的吗？还有比一无所有的人更为冲动去为了个人的利益将一切都搞乱的吗？

“没有，如果一个国王被他的国民如此憎恶、蔑视的话他就不能使他们遵守秩序，除非通过暴力、敲诈、查抄把他们都沦为乞丐，那他还不如辞去王位。这种保持王位权势的手段可能使国王徒有虚名，而毁掉了国王尊严。国王统治的不是繁荣幸福的人民，而是一群乞丐，这样的国王就毫无尊严可言了。这点正是令人敬仰的斐布里希的意见，他宁愿治理富有的国民，而不愿自己富有。诚然，一个人享受奢侈的生活而其他所有的人都在呻吟哀嚎，这个人就几乎不能被称之为国王，而更像一个管理监狱的人。

“简而言之，一个庸医不可能给人治好病而不给这个人带来另一种病。一个国王不降低生活水平就不能为制止犯罪的话，应该承认他并不知道怎么样治理自由民。他应该从戒除自己的弊病——自傲和懒惰开始，因为这两个弊病使得他受到人们的憎恶和蔑视。他必须依靠自己为生而无损于他人。他应该量入为出。他应该制止犯罪，正确引导人们，而不是任之发展而事后惩罚。他不应该实施那些长期不用的法律——尤其是如果没有，而人们却生活得很好者。并且，他绝不发明一种罪行，以此为借口征收罚款——任何私人都不允许这样不诚实地做事。

我然后继续给他讲述一个距乌托邦不远的国家——哈佩兰德的制度。他们的国王在登基那一天举行庄严的献祭，宣誓他所持有的黄金或者白银的价值绝不超过一千英镑。显然，这一制度是从一位非常贤明的国王开始的，这位国王更加关心的是国家的福利，而不是他自己的福利。他认为这将阻止皇室的财富积累到导致国家贫困的程度，之所以选择这样一个数字，是因为他计算过这些资金将足以制止革命或抵抗侵略，但不足以鼓励一个国王拥有对外征服的野心。这是他的主要想法，但不是仅就这一个想法。他还希望这一安排能够保障总是足够的流通资金供普通的交易所用，并且国王没有不正当敛财的动机，因为不允许他持有超过法律所规定数字限度的金额。这样的国王使坏人害怕，受好人爱戴。——但是，如果我这些话是讲给那些决计持相反观点的人，你认为他们会听我的吗？

莫尔：当然，他们不会听你的。但是我不能责备他们。坦率地说，我不明白你那样说的意图，或者是你为何给他们提出明明知道他们不会接受的建议呢？这样做有什么好处吗？怎么能够期待他们采取一种完全不熟悉又与他们所有偏见相抵触的思维路线呢？这类事情在一个友好的交谈中是很有意思的，但内阁会议上，有重要决策需要做出，这些经院哲学就彻底没有了地位。

拉斐尔：这确实就是我所说的——宫廷与哲学无缘。

莫尔：当然与经院哲学无缘，而经院哲学所谈论的是纯粹的思想，它与环境无关。但是一种更具文明形式的哲学却深知自己活动的舞台，尽管按照场景讲话，并在演出中扮演适当的角色。这是你应该采用的那类哲学。否则，将像普劳塔斯的戏剧演出时，一群家奴正在舞台上傻玩，你却披上哲学家的外衣走上舞台，朗诵《屋大维娅》剧本中对尼禄皇帝的争辩。当然，把一场戏弄成又悲又喜的杂烩，还不如扮演一个哑巴角色更好些吧？即使你的贡献对前面的演出是一种进步，但由于其效果的不协调，你将毁掉整个演出。你要尽力使当前的演出获得成功——不要因为你碰巧想起另外一个你更加喜欢的戏而毁掉整个剧本。

同样的规则可以应用到宫廷中的政治生活。如果你不能彻底根除错误的主张，不能称心满意地治理好积久的弊端那不是你不面对公共生活的借口。在风暴中，你不能因为控制不了风就将船抛弃。

另一方面，不要将完全崭新的主张强加于人，那些对此新主张持有偏见的人肯定不会接受。你必须间接地工作。你必须尽你力所能及地机智地做事，凡是你不能使之好转的事就尽量少出错。因为事情永远不会完美无瑕，除非人是完美的——我不能期望他们在近几年内完美无缺！

拉斐尔：那种方法的唯一优点，就是在真正努力治疗他人精神病时，我可能发现他们没有那么精神失常。但我必须讲实话，我必须说那些你反对的事情。我不知道哲学家说谎话是不是对，但那绝对不是我做事的方式。另外，尽管他们可能被我所说的话所激怒，但我看不出普通的事情为何被看得那么荒谬。它不像我推荐的柏拉图所设想的共和国制度，或者是推荐乌托邦现在的制度。尽管那些制度无疑要比我们的制度优越，但他们看来是很离奇的，因为他们的制度是以共有财产而不是以私有财产为基础的。

当然，他们可以不喜欢我的建议。他们已经对某一行动路线下了决心，自然也就不喜欢有人指出前途有危险及告知让他放弃这一切。但是，除此之外，我的谈话内容有哪些是不能够或者不应该到处提出的呢？如果我们绝不讲那些可能被认为非传统的话，担心它听起来荒谬可笑。我们即便是在基督教国家，对救世主的一切教导也不张扬。但这都是救世主最不愿意做的事情。他难道没有告诉弟子他对他们附耳低声所说的话应该到屋顶上公开宣扬吗？在现代习俗方面，他的大部分教导比我的任何建议都差异很大。除非他的教条已经得到精明的传道士的修改——无疑依据的是你的建议！

这些传教士势必认为，“我们将绝不会按照基督教的准则来调节人的行为，因此，就让我们调整基督教的准则来适应人的行为。这样，至少二者之间就会有某些关联。”

然而，我不明白他们这样做有何好处。他们只是使得人们更加心安理得的去做坏事罢了——那就是我在内阁会议上所能够做的一切。因为我只能做两件事，要么投票反对我的同僚，那几乎与根本不投票相同；或者是投票赞成我的同僚在这种情况下，如同特楞斯戏中的密西欧一样，我将“助长他们的疯狂”。

至于你提到的间接工作方法，当一切都无济于事的时候至少要极力机智行事，并尽量不要搞坏。我也很难能够看到这会起到作用。在宫廷中你不能不发表自己的意见，或者仅仅是默许他人的犯罪。你必须公开支持最糟糕的政策，支持最有害的决议。如果你对一个坏的法律不显出足够的热情你将被看作是间谍甚至于是叛徒。另外，当你与这样的同僚共事时，你有什么机会做好事呢？你绝不会改造他们——他们更可能是带坏你，不管你是多么好的人。通过与他们的交往你要么会丧失自己的正直，要么会习惯于隐瞒他们的愚蠢和邪恶。你所提到的间接的方法的实际结果就是这样！

在柏拉图的书中有一个愉快的形象，它解释了为什么一个明智的人有权不参与政治事务。他看到人们涌向街头，回身被如注的大雨淋湿。他不能说服他们进屋避雨。他知道如果他也出去的话，他也会一样被淋湿。因此，他只是自己呆在家里，因为他对别人的愚蠢无能为力，只好用这样的想法安慰自己：“还好，尽管他们被淋湿了，我没事的。”

不过，我亲爱的莫尔，我把内心的感想告诉你，我觉得只要有私有财产，并且任何事情都以金钱来衡量，你就不可能得到真正的正义和成功——除非你认为最坏的人过着最好的生活是正义的，或者是极少数人瓜分所有的财富，你认为这称得上国家繁荣——其余的人只是过着凄惨生活的话，这少数人不会完全感到幸福。

实际上，当我想到乌托邦公正和贤明的制度时，他们法律那么少，但一切都管理的那么有效。意识到每个人的所得都与平均繁荣相一致——当我将乌托邦与许多资本主义国家比较时，发现资本主义国家总是制定新的法规，但却绝对称不上管理的好。那里每天都通过几十项法律，但仍然不能足以保证他们获得、保持或安全地标示出自己所谓的私有财产——为什么有层出不穷的法律诉讼呢？——当我想到这一切，我就更加赞成柏拉图，就更不奇怪他不肯为反对平等原则的城市立法了。很显然像他这样的伟大哲人当然清楚，健康社会的基本条件就是物资的平均享有——这在资本主义社会是不可能的。因为，当每一个有权获得他所能获得的物资时，所有的财产不管有多少，都将落在一小部分人手中。这就意味着这里每个人都是贫困的。财富总是与善良成反比的。富人极为贪婪、肆无忌惮、毫无用处，而穷人朴实、谦虚，他们的日常工作对社会的利益远大于对他们自己的利益。

换句话说，我相信，除非你废除了私有财产，你决不会得到公正的物资分配，人的生活也绝对得不到满意的组织。只要私有制存在，人类中的绝大部分，也就是最为优秀的一部分，都将不可避免背负贫穷、困苦和苦恼的重担。我不是说这个重担不能减轻，但你确实无法取消它。你当然可以规定一些法律，限制每个人所允许拥有的资金和土地。通过适当的立法，你可以保持国王和臣民之间的权力平衡。你可以通过法律手段，防止卖官鬻爵，不允许因公务而个人得以铺张浪费——否则的话，他就会通过欺骗及敲诈去充实私囊，这些职位是以财富而不是贤明作为基本任职资格。这一类法律将肯定能够减轻症状，就像不治之症的病人因为不间断的医治可以获得拖延。但只要私有财产继续下去，那就绝对无法治愈。如果你专心治疗某一个局部，你会加重其他部分的病情。对一个人是良药，而对另一个人则是毒药——因为你不抢劫甲的你就不能支付给乙。

莫尔：我不同意。我不相信在共产主义制度下，你能享有合理的生活标准。因为没有人愿意辛勤劳动，总是物资缺少由于缺乏利益驱动，每个人都变得懒惰，并依靠他人为己工作。然后，物资极为短缺时，不可避免的结果就是一系列的流血与暴乱，因为谁都没有合法的手段来保护他自己的劳动产品——尤其是在没有了对当局的尊重的情况下，我无从想象在一个没有阶级的社会中将会是一种什么状况。

拉斐尔：你会持有这种观点，那是因为你是不能想象它将是什么状况——无论如何，你也不能确切知道。但是，你若和我一起到过乌托邦，像我一样到处看看的话——我在那里居住了五年之久，你知道，我离开那里的唯一原因就是我想告诉人们这个新的世界——你是第一位承认没有看到过组织得如此井然有序的国家。

彼得：我必须说明，我发现很难相信，那个新世界比我们这个古老的世界的一切都组织得更加秩序井然得多。我应该认为我们同他们一样聪明有才智，我们的文明更加悠久它因此能够体现悠久的经验积累的成果，而借助这些经验我们使得生活更加舒适——就更不用说几次偶然的发现了它是精心计划所决不能实现的。

拉斐尔：如果你读过他们的历史书，你对他们文明年代就能做出更加正确的判断了。若是我们必须相信那些记载那么，我们这儿还没有人类生活的时候，那个新世界就已经有城市了。至于你所说的聪明才智和偶然发现，没有理由认为只有我们才有。我们可以比他们聪明也可以没他们聪明，但我深信不疑的是他们的实干和勤奋远远超出了我们。根据他们的记录，他们对于我们的活动一无所知，他们称呼我们为赤道那边的人——只知道一千两百年前，一个偶然的机会，一只遭风暴的船曾经在乌托邦岛失事。包括几个罗马人和埃及人的幸存者游上岸，在岛上住下来。

现在，这就使你了解到他们很好地利用了这一机会。凡是罗马帝国有用的技艺，他们或是从这些乘船失事的外来人学会了，或者是从得到的线索自己研究加以发现。我们这半球与他们的仅仅一次接触，他们竟因此获益匪浅。但是，如果有类似的事件发生，一个乌托邦的人飘到我们的国土上，我们会忘记得一干二净，正如我认为人们将会很快忘记我曾经到过那里一样。他们一见到我们，就立即采纳了欧洲所有的好主张——但是，我怀疑我们是否能够很快采用他们更加优越的制度。我认为，那就是主要原因，为什么尽管他们的才智和自然资源都不如我们，但在政治和经济上却领先我们那么多。

莫尔：在那种情况下，我亲爱的拉斐尔，我恳求你把这个岛描述一番，不要说得太简略——从不同的方面给我们详细讲述一遍——包括地理、社会、政治、法律诸方面——事实上，凡是你认为我们想了解而又不了解的一切事物。

拉斐尔：我再喜欢不过了，因为那些情况我还记忆犹新。但是你知道，说来话长呀。

莫尔：那好啊，我们到里面共进午餐吧，餐后我们随意支配整个下午的时间。

拉斐尔：就这么办吧。

于是我们入内就餐。饭后，我们回到了原处，坐在原来的那条长凳上，吩咐仆人莫来打扰。然后，彼得·贾尔斯和我就请拉斐尔兑现他的许诺。见我们真的要听他讲，他沉思了片刻，整理了一下思路，便开始了如下的讲述。

第二部

拉斐尔：乌托邦岛屿中部最宽，约达二百英里。全岛大部分都与此宽度差不了太多，只是两端逐渐尖削呈圆弧形，就像是用圆规画出来的一样，从一头到另一头周围五百英里。因此，你可以将该岛画为新月形状，两角间有长约十一英里的海峡。海水通过这个海峡流入，然后展开成的一个大湖——尽管它看上去像一个巨大的平静水塘，因为它被陆地环绕，完全不受风的侵袭，水面平静，波澜不惊。这样，整个岛国的内部几乎成为一个港口，航船可以驶向四面八方，这对每个人都有用。

港口甚为险要，布满浅滩和暗礁。几乎就在入口中间，有一岩石矗立水面之上，因为高出水面对航行没有危险，其上建有堡垒，常年驻扎守军。但其他岩石都是暗礁，极其危险。仅有乌托邦人才知道哪里的水道安全，因此，没有乌托邦人领航，外国船只实际上不可能进入海湾。即使是本地居民，如果没有岸上的明显标志作为指引，也足够危险的——这些标志一经移位，不管有多少敌军战舰，都将被诱趋于灭亡。当然，在岛的另一边也有许多港湾，但是它们到处都防御极佳，有天然的或人工的防御工程，少数守兵就可轻易阻止强军近岸。

据说，或许你自己实际上也能看得出，乌托邦最初并不是一个岛屿而只是半岛。尽管如此，他被某个名为乌托普的人所征服——由他给这个岛起了个名字——而它过去的名字为萨斯库劳铁——乌托普也负责将岛上未开化的淳朴居民培养成为现在这样，或许是世界上最文明的国度。他一登上岛屿并控制了这个国家后，立即在本岛连接大陆的一面掘开连接乌托邦和大陆的十五英里的地峡，这样海水就环绕了小岛担心如果他让当地居民将这样的工程完全干完可能产生怨恨就让所有士兵也都参与了进去。既然这么多劳力参与，任务完成得异常快速，使大陆一边的人们惊讶失色，他们当初还在嘲笑整个设想呢。

岛上有五十四座壮丽的大城市，语言、法律、习俗和机构设置都一样。它们依据同样的计划来建造，只要地势许可的话，它们都建得看上去完全相同。两地之间的最小距离是二十四英里，最大距离也不超过一天的步行路程。

每个城市每年有三名富有经验的老年公民到艾尔卡索集会商讨该岛的一般事宜。艾尔卡索被看作首都，因为它地处全国中心，全国各地都容易抵达。土地这样安排，每个城市每一个方向都至少有十二英里长的区域，而较远的一面更远些，即两地间能达到的最大距离。每个城都没有丝毫去拓展疆域的欲望，因为它们认为自己是土地的耕种者，而不是占有者。

农村中到处是间隔适宜的农场住宅，配有农具，市民依次到这里居住。每个农户至少居住四十个成年人，外加长期依附的农奴二人，由一对德高望重的老年夫妇经营，每三十户由一名管片员负责。每户每年有在农村住满两年的二十人返回城市，其空额由城市来的另外二十人填补。这些新来者从已经在这儿住过一年因而较熟悉耕作的人接受训练。一年之后，这些受训者又变成了施训者，如此循环。这一制度减少了缺乏粮食的危险。如果大家都是不懂农业生产的新来者，就可能出现缺粮危机。

一般是在农村干两年，这样任何人都不会被迫从事颇为艰苦的工作时间太久，但对那些喜欢农村生活的人——很多人都喜欢农村的生活——可以获得特别许可多几年。农业人员的职责是负责耕地、养殖牲畜、砍伐木材，视方便而定或经陆路或经水路把木材运往城里。他们用巧妙的方法大规模养鸡。母鸡不用孵蛋，人们用同样的温度一次性地大量孵化——结果呢，小鸡一破壳，就把饲养员当作妈妈，跟着他到处跑。

他们养的马不多，也不是真正驯化的，这些马用来供作骑马训练。犁地和拉车都用牛，他们承认牛不如马跑得快，但是乌托邦人说马野性而很少得病。牛养起来省事、费用也少，并且它们超过服役年龄，还可供食用。

谷物仅用来制作面包，因为他们不喝啤酒，仅喝葡萄酒、苹果或梨子酿造的酒，或只喝水。有时喝水时喜欢加上些当地盛产的蜂蜜和甘草。每个城市当局对整个地区每年消耗的食品数量虽然心中有数，但却总是生产出远远超出所需的谷物和牲畜。因此，他们还可有许多剩余为邻市居民分享。

农村里没有的任何物品，都可以在城里得到，因为每个月都有一天假期，很多人都可去城里。你只要要求城里的官员提供你所需要的东西，他就会发给你，不需要任何付款。

收获季节之前，管片员通知城市当局应派遣下乡的人数。这批收获大军就可以如期到达，如果天气晴朗，就可在二十四小时内收割完毕。

但是，我必须再讲述一下有关这些城市的情况。你只要看过一个城市，你就看到过所有的城市了，因为只要当地地形允许的话，它们都建设的一样。因此，这里我就给你举一个例子，哪一个城市为例都无关紧要。尽管如此，显然要选择艾尔卡索，因为国会在此开会的事实使得它特别受到重视而且也是我最为熟悉的一个城市，我在那里住过五年时间。

艾尔卡索建在一个不太陡的山坡上，呈现正方形。它从邻近山顶处往下延伸到乌水河，河宽两英里，沿河部分延伸稍长些。

乌水河源头是八十英里上游的一小股水，但由于汇入了若干支流，其中两个支流很大，因此，当它到达艾尔卡索的时候，河水宽度已经达到半英里宽。然后，河面继续加宽直到抵达六十英里以外的大海。就在城的上边，甚至到城几英里外的上游，每隔六小时有一次潮涨潮落。涨潮时，海水灌入河水达三十英里，充满河床，河水被迫后退。这时，连远至三十英里之外的河水都是咸的，再往上游，咸味逐渐消失，流经艾尔卡索城的河水绝对是淡水。退潮时，河水又流往大海，保持清澈而无污染，直到河口。

该城由一座很好的拱桥与河的另一岸连接，桥基不是用木桩而是用巨大的石头建成。这座桥位于距海最远的地方因此，并不妨碍船只沿城通航。还有另一条小河，它不太大但却是宜人的平静和舒缓。它发源于艾尔卡索城所在的那座山，穿过城的中部流入乌水河。这条河的源头就在城外，人们便在外围筑有城墙，以便在外敌入侵时，河水不致于被截断、改道或被放毒污染供水。从水流出的地方到城的较低处水都由瓦管系统流下来。在不适宜使用瓦管的地方，他们设有容积巨大的雨水池，也一样便利。

城周围建有很厚的高墙，按一定间隔筑有瞭望塔和堡垒。城的三面均有壕沟，没有水，但很宽很深，其中荆棘丛生，难以越过。剩下的一面就是那条河作为护城河。街道布局很好，有利于交通和避免风害。建筑物美观，平台屋顶，面对面建造，整条街上的房屋一字排开。房屋前面有一条宽二十英尺的大路将两边隔开。房屋后面是一个大花园，也和街道一样长，并且完全被另一条街的后面所隔开。每家房屋有一个前门通往街道，和一个后门通往花园。两个门都是双折门，便于推开和之后自动关闭。任何人都可以进去，因为没有一样东西是私有的。这些房子都是抽签分配的，大约十年调换一次。

他们特别喜欢这些花园。他们在花园里栽种果树，包括葡萄树，也有花草。他们栽培得法，事实上，我从来也没有见过如此漂亮而多产的花园。艾尔卡索人热衷于搞好花园，不仅是因为他们喜欢而且是因为街道之间有竞争最好花园的比赛。当然，很难找到任何城市特征能比这给公众带来快乐和实惠的了——这使得我想到园艺就是这座城的建立者特别感兴趣的一件事。

建立者我是指乌托普国王本人，据说是他从一开始就设计了整座城的规划。尽管如此，他将修饰和加工留给了后人去完成，因为他意识到一个人穷毕生精力也不可能完成。根据他们的历史记载，从征服之日起的一千七百六十年都写得非常翔实，最初的房子仅仅是棚舍或者是小屋，使用手头现成的木材草草建造。房子都是泥墙，屋顶呈脊状，由茅草覆盖。但是现在每个房子都很气派，为三层的楼房。墙壁用坚石或涂上泥灰，也有砖砌的，里面填以碎石。坡面的屋顶也抬升为平顶，使用一种特制水泥，虽然极为便宜但却可以比铅板还能抵抗坏天气，也能防火。他们使用玻璃窗防风，玻璃在那里使用很广泛；也有时使用涂有透明油料或琥珀的细麻布代替玻璃装窗。这样，窗子既透明又能起到密封的作用。

现在讲述他们的当地的政府体系。人口按每三十户分为一组，每组每年选出一位官员，叫做斯蒂沃德。斯蒂沃德是旧的乌托邦头衔——现在称之为管片员。每十个斯蒂沃德及其所代表的住户设有一个贲慈特，或称之为高级管片员。

每个城市有两百个斯蒂沃德，他们承担选举市长的责任他们经过严格的宣誓对认为最为合适的人秘密投票。市长必须是从所有选民所推举的四个候选人当中产生。因为全城四个区，每个区提交一个候选人名单给贲慈特议事会。市长为终身制，除非因为他有阴谋想建立暴政而遭废黜。贲慈特每年都要选举，但他们通常不更换。其他所有的任命官员都是一年一选。

如果需要，贲慈特每三天与市长开一次会，商量公务并迅速解决任何私人纠纷，尽管这些纠纷是很罕见的。他们总是邀请两位贲慈特，每天是不同的两位，来参加会议。并且有一个规定，就是任何涉及国家事务的问题，不经过三天的讨论，就不得最后做出决定。在议事会外或在大会外议论公事就是死罪。很显然，这种措施不鼓励市长和贲慈特共谋对人民专制压迫和变革国家的宪法。正是基于同样的原因，凡是重要的事情都要提交贲慈特议事会，由贲慈特通知各人所管理的住户，在住户之间开展讨论，然后将其观点报告议事会偶尔也有事情提交国会。

议事会还有一个规定，当天提交的问题不得在当天讨论决议。所有的讨论都必须推迟到下次参会人数多的会议。否则的话，某人就会未经思考就信口讨论，往往为自己的话辩论而不是为了公众的利益。那种人是以自己的名声来牺牲公众的利益。正是因为尽管听起来荒唐，但碍于面子不愿承认自己的主张可能是错误的——他一开始就应该先想好了再发表意见。

现在讲讲他们的工作状况。他们不分性别，都做一种工作，就是务农。他们从小学农。他们在学校学习农业理论，在附近城市农庄进行实习旅行。他们在那里不仅观看农活是如何做的，还亲自参与做一些农活，作为一种训练形式。

除了我所说的农活作为每个人的工作之外，每个人还得学习一门专项手艺。学织毛衣或织麻布，或者成为泥水匠、铁匠或木匠。那些就是所能用得上劳力的所有手艺。他们既没有水手，也没有裁缝，因为这个岛上的每一个人都身着同类衣服，只按照性别和婚否稍加区别，款式绝不改变。这些衣服看上去很舒服，穿上行动便捷，适合于冷暖天气变化——最重要的是，这些衣服都是自做的。因此，每个人都学会一种我所提到的手艺，我所说的每一个人指的是包括妇女和男子。尽管妇女因体弱给予的工作较轻，像毛织和麻纺，而男子干较重的活。

多数孩子长大都是子承父业，因为他们一般都有这种自然情感倾向。但如果一个孩子对其他某一手艺感兴趣，他就寄养在操他所喜爱的手艺的这个家庭里。当然，他的父亲或是地方当局，都关心替他找一个体面可敬的户主。当你学好一门手艺之后——如果你愿意的话，还可以准许学习另一项手艺。当你两门手艺都学好时，你可以根据你的偏好选择工作，除非另一种手艺对公众更为重要。

贲慈特的最主要事务，其实也是他们的唯一事务，就是要做到没有一个闲员，而且每个人都在从事自己的工作。但也不至于从早到晚从事劳作而筋疲力尽，累得像牛马一般那只是奴隶的生活——然而这也如同世界上其他各地劳动人民的生活一样。乌托邦人民每天工作六个小时——上午三个小时，然后吃午饭，之后休息两个小时，下午再工作三个小时，接着吃晚饭。他们晚上八点睡觉，睡眠时间为八个小时一天中的其他时间都随自己支配——不在偷懒和自我放纵方面浪费时间，而是很好地利用时间从事一些适宜的活动。大多数人将这些自由时间花在进修方面，因为每天上午的第一件事是有很多公共演讲。参与听讲的人出于自愿，除非挑选出来从事学术培训的人必须参加。但所有各界人士，无论男女，都挤着去听讲。我的意思是说，不同人去听不同的演讲正是一种精神鼓舞着他们。尽管如此，如果你想这样做的话没有什么可以阻止你将额外的时间花在你的手艺上。许多人就是这样的情况，他们没有做智力活的能力，他们搞自己的手艺还令人羡慕，因为这是符合公共精神的行为。

晚饭后有一小时娱乐时间，或者是在花园中，或者是在公共食堂。根据一年中的时间而定。有的人演奏音乐，有的人只是聊天。他们从来也没有听说过像玩骰子如此愚蠢和令人泄气的游戏了，但是他们有两种游戏，很像象棋。第一种是一类斗数，一个数“吃掉”另一个数。第二种是罪恶和美德之间的战斗，它极为巧妙地显示出罪恶之间彼此倾轧，继而又联合对抗美德。它也显示罪恶反对美德，罪恶如何聚焦力量直接对抗美德，采取什么迂回策略，美德需要什么帮助来战胜罪恶，用什么样的最好方法来阻止罪恶的袭击，以及最后通过什么来决定一方战胜另一方。

但是，为了避免你产生误会，有一点需要特别注意。既然他们每天只需工作六个小时，你可能会认为势必导致货物短缺。相反，那六个小时足够了，能够生产出舒适生活所需的一切，而且还绰绰有余。如果你考虑一下在其他国家完全不干活的人口所占的比例有多大，你就会理解为何会是这样。首先是所有的妇女，她们占全民的一半。在一些妇女有活干的国家，男子往往闲荡不干活。而且，那伙牧师和大量的所谓宗教信徒，他们干多少活呢？再加上所有的富人，特别是那些称之为贵族和绅士的地主。包括他们家的雇员——我指的前面所提到的那帮武装的恶棍们。最后，再加上那些身强力壮的乞丐，他们假装有病，找借口乞讨。把这些人都算在一起，你一定会惊奇地发现那些为人类生产消费品的人数极少。

现在再想想，在少数劳动者中那些从事必要工作的人又是多少——因为在那里金钱是唯一衡量价值的标准，人们从事数十种不必要的行业，仅仅提供奢侈品和娱乐。即使现有的劳力分配到为满足适宜生活的少数几个行业中，也将出现产品过剩，并使得物价下降，从而使得工人难以靠干活维持生计。但是，如果你让这些所有参与无益劳动的人，和那些所有不工作的懒汉（他们每个人所消耗的别人的劳动的成果就等于两个工人所消耗的数量）都去参加做有益的事情的话，你就很快发现只需要多么少的工作时间便足以生产出生活上需要与便利所必不可少的一切，甚至于也会增加真正又自然的享乐。

乌托邦的事实也说明问题了。这里，每一座城和附近的地区中，凡是身体适于劳动的男女都要参加普通劳动，只有不到五百人免于劳动。这包括斯蒂沃德，他们尽管法律上规定免于劳动，但却自愿劳动以树立榜样。也包括哪些永久免于其他义务的人，以便能够集中精力于学术研究。这一特权自由只有经过教士的推荐以及斯蒂沃德以秘密投票的形式确认后才能获得。并且如果任何做学问的人辜负了人民的希望他就调回去从事做工。另一方面，往往也会有这样的情况一个工人在业余时间辛勤钻研学问，并取得很大进步，他就可以不再从事自己的手艺，提升为学者从事学问研究。

他们正是从这些人当中选出了自己的外交使节、牧师贲慈特以及市长。过去他们把市长叫作巴桑，现在他通常被称之为侬皮袍。几乎其他所有居民如果都从事工作，而且又都是从事有益工作的话，你就可想而知他们将在不多的几个小时干很多工作了。他们的劳力问题也会减少，因为他们使用比我们更为经济的手段来应对必要的工作。例如，之所以房屋的建设工作通常吸引那么多劳力，是因为人们建起了房子，而不知爱惜财力的后人任其毁掉。因此，下一代人又得再重新建设，这要比保持原有的房子花费的代价肯定要高事实上，经常出现这样的情况：甲建了一座很昂贵的房子，但随后就不再满足乙的挑剔口味。因此，乙就不把它看在眼里结果它很快被毁掉了，然后在别处花钱再建一所同样昂贵的房子，但在乌托邦，一切都有国家控制，房子很少建筑在完全新的地方。房子该修的时候，哪怕不能提前维修，也会马上进行维修。这样，他们以最小的劳动代价使房子达到最大使用期限。这就意味着，建设者有时实际上无事可做。在这种情况下，他们就回到家里锯好木板，准备好石头，以便一旦有房子要建设，可以更快地建起来。

接着我们再来看看他们在衣服上省多少钱吧。他们的工作服都是粗布服装，这种衣服可以至少用上七年。当他们出入公共场合时，他们披上外套遮上工作服；衣服的颜色都一样，都是羊毛的自然色。这样，他们不仅消耗的毛绒世界上最少，而且这种材料的生产成本也最低。因为亚麻布更容易生产，所以也较多使用，但是只要亚麻是白色的和羊毛是干净的就行，他们不在乎纤维精致与否。在其他国家，一个人不会满足于不到五六件丝绸背心，而挑剔的人每人都要十多件。而在乌托邦，一人有一件就很满足了，一件一般都能穿上两年时间。他为何要更多件呢？衣服多了既不能使他更暖和，也不会使他更漂亮。

由于每个人都做有益的工作，工作量就减少到最低限度，因此，他们就不时地积累了大量的物品，可以腾出大量劳力去修补道路。如果没任何事情可干，当局通常就宣布更短的工作时间。他们从来也不强迫人们从事不必要的工作，因为整个经济的主要目的就是给每个人充裕的时间，免于体力劳动，只要是社会所允许。这样，他们就可以培养思维能力，他们认为这是幸福生活的秘诀。

现在，我最好来解释一下他们的社会安排——即社会是如何组织的，他们彼此间如何交往，以及货物如何分配等。社会的最小单位是家庭，它实际上是家的同义词。女孩子长大之后结婚，就嫁到丈夫家，但男孩子每一代都在自己家，并听从于最年长男性家长——除非他年事已高，有年纪第二大的家长接替他。

除了郊区外，每个城市都有六千个家庭。并且为了保持人口的稳定，法律规定每个家庭都不得少于十名或多于十六名成年人，因为他们不好固定孩子的数量。这一法律容易遵行，他们只要把一家中过多的成年人转到较少的一家就行了如果一座城市的人口过多，多出的人就转到相对人口少的城市去。如果整个岛屿人口过多的话，他们就从每座城市分派出一定数量的人去附近大陆开辟聚居区，那里有很大区域当地居民还没有开垦。这样的聚居区由乌托邦人管理，但如果当地人愿意参与管理也是允许的。当地人参与管理的时候当地人和移居者联合起来，融为一体，形成共同的生活方式这对双方都有好处。因为在乌托邦人的管理下，那些过去被认为不能生产出够一方人所消耗的产品的土地，现在很多人都能够生产出足以供两方人使用的产品了。

如果当地人不愿意按照所要求的去做，他们就被从乌托邦人圈定的土地上逐出。如果他们反抗的话，乌托邦人便宣战——因为当一个国家否定另一国家从任何土地上获得营养的自然权利，而原来的所有者自己不使用这些土地，仅仅作为无价值的地产让其荒芜，乌托邦人认为战争是完全正义的。

一旦乌托邦任何城市人口减少，不能从岛上其他地方取得补充而不使其他市的人口减少到最低限度之下（据说历史上这种情况出现过两次，每次都是因为瘟疫流行），他们就把移居出去的人调回来充实。他们的原则就是宁愿丢失新的聚居区，也不愿意丢失乌托邦自身的任何部分。

现在我们再回到他们的社会组织上。正如我前面所说每一个家庭都由最长的男性当家。妻子从属于丈夫，孩子从属于父母，一般来说，年轻人照顾老年人。每个市都划分为四个大小一样的区，每个区中心有自己的购物中心。任何一户的产品都存放在仓库中，然后根据不同商店的类型分发。当户主自己或家庭需要物资时，他就到其中的一个商店去领。无论他要什么，都允许他拿走货物而不需任何形式的付款，既不付现金，也不需要其他补偿。究竟有什么理由不允许给予他所需的物品呢？一切货物都有充足的供应，因此无需担心有人所求超出自己的所需。一个人知道绝对不会出现物资短缺时，还有什么理由想要储存呢？没有天生贪婪的生物，除非是担心供应短缺。或者就人类而言，贪婪是出自虚荣心，也就是你能够显示一下占有的东西超过他人就比他人好。但这类事情在乌托邦不存在。

这些购物中心包括食品市场，运到这儿的有肉和鱼，也有面包、水果和蔬菜。市外有专门的地方，在那里首先将所有的血迹和污染用流水清洗干净。牲畜的屠宰和尸体的清洗由奴隶来做。他们不让普通人屠宰动物，因为他们认为这会逐渐毁掉人性的恻隐之心。并禁止将不干净的东西或不健康的东西带进城里，因为担心污染了环境而导致疾病。

你沿着一条街走下去经常会走到一个巨大的建筑物，它有自己专有的名字。那就是斯蒂沃德住的地方，他所管理的三十户，左右两方各十五户，在此就餐。负责这些餐厅的伙食人员每天按时到食品市场去，在那里报告注册人数，并适当领取食品。

但是，医院病人最为优先。噢，对了，城区共有四家医院，就在城墙外边。每家医院大约有一个小镇那么大。这样的目的是避免过于拥挤，并有利于传染病例的隔离。这些医院管理的很好，配备有完善的各类医疗设备，护士们很体贴人也很负责，经常有很多有经验的医生，不过没有人是被迫住进医院的，实际上每个人生病时都乐于离家而住院治疗。

尽管如此，一旦医院伙食员拿到医生的订单，所有领取的最好食物都根据注册人数比例平均分配给各个餐厅。只有某些人员给予特殊照顾，如市长、主教、贲慈特和外交使节对外国人的供应也是相同的——外国人并不多见；但是，当确实有外国人时，则为他们专门提供住宿。

在午餐和晚餐时响起喇叭声，除了那些有病呆在医院或者呆在家里的人外，整个斯蒂沃德居民在餐厅集合。然而餐厅开始供应后，你也相当自由地可以从市场上带回食物因为大家都知道除非你没办法要不你不愿意这样做。我的意思是说，尽管没有规定反对，但没有人愿意在家吃饭。一方面在家吃饭被认为是很不好的一种形式。另一方面，就在街道旁边的餐厅中既然饭菜如此精美丰盛，一个人却自找麻烦去从事质量差的烹饪，显得也太傻了。

在这些餐厅中，所有粗活和脏活都由奴隶来干，但是食物的准备、烹调、菜单的安排都完全有值班的家庭妇女承担因为不同的家庭有责任每天提供饭菜。其他成年人根据他们的人数在三桌或更多桌前进餐，男的背靠墙而坐，女的坐在外边，因此如果后来者感到突然不适（如孕妇经常这样），她们可以起身离开到保姆室，而不至于打扰其他人。

我说的保姆室就是留出照料母亲和婴儿的房屋。那里总是生着火并提供充足的清洁用水。还设有许多吊床，因此妈妈可以将婴儿放在床上，或者如果乐意的话，也可以解开婴儿襁褓，让其在火前面玩耍。婴儿总是由其母亲哺育，母亲死亡或生病的除外。万一母亲死亡或生病，斯蒂沃德的夫人就很快找到一个保姆。这件事并不困难，因为任何能胜任这一事情的妇女都乐意做这件事。这种慈善得到人们的普遍赞扬，孩子也总将她看做自己的亲生母亲。

保姆室也是五岁以下孩子吃饭的地方。其他孩子，那些不到结婚年龄的男女，就在餐厅内的餐桌旁等候。如果他们太年幼，就安静地站在那里。以上两种情况下，他们都没有单独的就餐时间，他们都是从成年人的餐桌上获得饭菜。

高桌正中间是一个荣光的位置，它位于大厅尽头的平台上，这里可以看到全体进餐的人。这一桌就餐的是斯蒂沃德和他的妻子，另外还有两个年龄最长的居民，因为就餐总是四人一桌。如果在斯蒂沃德区域刚好设有教堂，牧师夫妇就自然就坐于斯蒂沃德席。两旁餐桌都是四位年轻人使用，接下去一桌又是四位老年人使用，整个大厅就是这样安排的。换句话说，年龄相同的人一桌，而又与不同年龄组的人交叉。他们告诉我这样安排，尊重上一辈老年人可以防止年轻人之间的言行失检，因为这些年轻人的一言一行都能够被旁边的老年人看到。

端上食物时，不是从这一头的桌子到另一头的桌子依次提供。他们首先端给那些有明显标记的老年人餐桌，然后再端给其他餐桌。尽管如此，如果某种美味不够全体享用，老年人认为合适的话可以与邻桌的其他人分享其美味食物。这样，老年人受到理所应得的尊重，而每个人最终也都有所得。

午餐和晚餐开始前有一段文学作品朗诵，但内容简短，不至于让听者厌烦。接着老年人以开朗的和略带风趣的方式讨论严肃的问题。但老年人并不是整个席间都自己长篇大论。相反，他们爱听年轻人发言，并故意引出他们的话，以便他们能够考验每一个年轻人的性格与才华，因为在这样一种宽松而又非正式的氛围中年轻人容易显示自己。

午餐时间很短，因为午餐后要接着工作，而晚餐时间倒可以放开些，因为晚餐后接着的是一整夜的就寝，他们认为一整夜的就寝有助于胃肠消化。晚餐时总有音乐，最后提供各类甜点和水果。他们燃香并喷洒香水。事实上，他们尽力使得每一位就餐者过得愉快，因为他们十分相信所有无害的乐趣都是完全合法的。

这就是城市里的生活。在农村，因为大家住处彼此相距较远，每个人都在家中用餐。当然，他们的食物与城里的一样好，因为城里人吃的东西都是由农村生产的。

现在讲述一下旅游设施。如果你想拜访一些其他城市的朋友，或者只是想看看城市本身，你通过申请很容易就会得到你们斯蒂沃德和贲慈特准许，除非你急需待在家里。你将同一批出游者一起出发，持有市长签发的集体护照，上写着你回来的日期。你可以领到一种交通工具，一名赶车驾牛的奴隶照看牛和车。但是，除非旅伴中有妇女，他们多数是不要车的，认为有车反而更加麻烦。你不必带行李，因为你无论到哪里，都和家一样，你想要啥都有。如果你在一个地方超过二十四小时，会要求你去干你那一行，这将受到当地同行的热烈欢迎。

如果你没有护照并擅自越过自己本城辖区而被逮住的话你就会被不光彩地遣返回家，并将被作为逃亡者给予严厉的惩罚。第二次重犯将被贬为奴隶。尽管如此，如果你急于想到本城郊区游览的话，只要你父亲允许，妻子不反对的话就不会禁止你。当然，无论在哪里，只有你做过上午或下午的活，才能受到伙食款待。但除此之外，你可以在本城辖区内自由活动。正如你待在家里一样，你正是社会中有用的一员。

你可以看出，不管在哪儿，你总是需要工作。绝没有任何借口可以偷懒。也没有酒店、没有妓院、没有诱惑的机会、没有秘密幽会之处。每个人都看着你，你实际上只好被迫干好自己的工作，并正当地利用好你的业余时间。

在这种制度下，所有的东西都必须丰富，因为所有的东西都是全体居民平均分配，很显然不可能有任何穷人或乞丐。你还记得，每一座城市派三个代表参加一年一度的滥套客会议，或者是艾尔卡索议会。会上他们收集当年的生产详细情况，弄清楚哪个地区的商品生产充足和哪个地区的供应不足，就马上安排一系列调拨以平衡地区供应。这些调拨是单向的交易，不需要回报补偿。但实际上，甲城免费给予乙城的礼物由免费从丙城获得的礼物所平衡。因此，整个岛就像一个大家庭。

他们只有储备有够一年使用的物资时，才认为已经做到了能满足他们自身之需，随后一年会发生什么情况就无所谓了，其余的都出口海外。出口物有大量谷物、蜂蜜、羊毛、亚麻、木材、大红和紫色布料、生皮、黄蜡、油脂、皮革以及牲口。他们把全部出口商品的七分之一送给这些国家的穷人，其他部分则以合理价格出售。这种对外贸易不仅购买了基本进口产品，通常只是铁器，而且还可带回大量金钱。实际上，通过很长一段时间他们逐渐积累了大量的金银，多到令人难以置信。因此，他们现在并不介意是售货得到现款，还是用赊欠的办法。其实，他们几乎所有的售货都是使用赊欠的办法。可是他们对于赊欠，并不满足于私人的保证，而是必须由进口地当局签订合法合同，并密封和传递过来。付款日期一到，当局就从所涉及的私人债户收齐欠款存入公库在提取之前可以作为资金使用。实际上，他们从来也没这样使用过，因为他们认为一个人用不着，而其他人确有用，将钱从别人处取出是不公平的。

然而，如果他们觉得有必要将这批资产的一部分借给另一个国家，他们就收回债款，因此在战时也是这样做的，因为在他们心目中战争是一件积累所有财富的事情。你知道在任何重要危机和紧急之时，这能够起到保护他们的作用这些钱的主要作用就是用来为招募外国雇佣兵提供巨额资金他们宁可使用这些人上阵冒险，也不愿使用自己人。他们深知有大量钱币也可以收买和出卖敌人，或者使其互怀鬼胎或公开动武而互相残杀。而这就是他们储存大量贵金属的唯一原因，但是他们却不视之为宝贝。事实上说出来有些难为情担心你们难以置信——我这样担心也有一定的原因，若非亲眼所见，我也不会轻易相信。这在所难免，越是不符合我们思维习惯的事物，就越难令我们相信。正如同他们其他的制度和我们存在极大的差异，他们对待金银有不同的标准也就不足为奇了。乌托邦人自己不用钱，而是储存起来用以应付可能发生也可能永远不会发生的突发事件。

同时，他们只按作为金钱原料的金银本身的真实性质对待它们，不会超过其本身应得的价值——众所周知，金银远不及铁有用。人们没有了铁，就好比没有了火和水，将难以生存。但如果我们没有物以稀为贵的愚蠢概念，没有金银仍能够轻松生活。然而，自然犹如仁慈而宽容的母亲，已经赐予我们一切最有用的东西，像空气、水以及我们眼前的大地，将空虚无益的东西与人类隔离开来。

倘若金银锁藏在乌托邦一间封闭安全的密室，一般人会胡猜乱想——你知道的，他们在这方面总具有一些天赋——他们会疑心这是市长及议事会的骗人伎俩，企图自己从中取利。当然，乌托邦人也可以将金银制成饮器或其他工艺品。但是，如果将其全部熔毁用作支付军饷，他们知道老百姓是不愿让出这些曾经心爱的东西的。

为了解决以上问题，乌托邦人想出了一种符合他们习惯规范的制度办法，和我们对待金银的态度截然不同——他们并非视黄金为珍宝。除非你亲眼所见，否则无法相信。这个制度规定乌托邦人的饮食用陶器及玻璃器之类制作精美而价格低廉的器皿。然而，金银也是常规材料，无论是公共厅馆还是私人住宅，主要制成粪桶溺盆之类的用具。再则套在奴隶身上的链铐也是取材于坚固的金银。因犯罪而成为可耻的人需要戴着金耳环、金戒指、金项圈以及一顶金冠。事实上，乌托邦人就是这样千方百计使金银成为可耻的标志。也就是说，一旦拿走他们身上的金银，没有人会感到有所损失，而不是像其他民族失去金银会万分悲痛，心惊胆战。

乌托邦人对待珠宝也是同样的态度。他们在海滨捡珍珠，在某些崖壁上采翠玉钻石——但他们从不刻意寻找这种东西。但是，如果他们偶然碰到，会将它们捡回去打磨加工一番，给孩子们做装饰品。刚开始，幼小的儿童会颇为得意拥有此类珠宝，等他们长大以后会明白这些东西只是托儿所的玩物，便将其扔掉，这种行为不是出于父母的劝告，而纯粹是由于自尊心——就如同我国的儿童一旦成人也扔掉洋娃娃、弹球以及护身符。乌托邦特别的制度也产生了相应奇妙的结果，浮莱图安外交使节的例子令我印象深刻。

这些外交使节到达艾尔卡索时，我正在那儿，因为他们有重要的事情前来商谈，所以乌托邦每座城市已派有三位议会代表在此等待会见。曾经到过这里的使节都很了解乌托邦的风俗习惯，知道华服盛装不受重视，穿戴丝绸会受到鄙视黄金是可耻的标志，所以这些外交官来时总是穿得合乎场合地朴素。可是浮莱图安人住在遥远的地方，和乌托邦人平时很少来往。他们只听说过在乌托邦大家穿着一样的衣服，而且料子粗陋——便认定乌托邦所不用的东西是因为乌托邦人没有这些东西。所以这些高傲的人决心用豪华的装束把自己打扮成天神一般，让穷酸的乌托邦人在珠光宝气的装扮前眼花缭乱。

当使节团到达乌托邦，虽然只有三位使者，却跟随了一百名随从，无不穿着艳丽，大部分用丝绸制成。三位使节本人在自己的国家是身份显贵的，所以穿的金锻，戴着重金项圈及金耳环，手上还有金戒指。他们的帽子上装饰着成串的珍珠及宝石。事实上，他们装扮自己的全部饰品恰恰是乌托邦人用来处罚奴隶，污辱罪犯，以及逗孩童开心的东西。

当然，任何细节我都不会错过。这三位使节把自己身上的华丽盛装和涌到街头看他们走过的乌托邦人的衣服相比时更洋洋得意起来。但实际情况并非他们所预料的那样受重视反而令他们很失望。在乌托邦人看来，除了那些少数因事出过国的以外，这种华丽的排场是丢脸的。因此他们把使团中最下等的仆从当做主人来敬礼，却完全无视使节本人，把使节们当成了戴着金链的奴隶。

是呀，你还可以发现，那些已经扔掉珍珠宝石的稍大一些的孩童看见这些使节帽子上镶有珍珠宝石，都轻推他们的母亲。低声说到：

“快看呀，妈妈，多么大了还戴珍珠宝石，怎么像个小孩子呀！”

母亲们非常严肃地回答道：“小声点，孩子！我猜他可能是外国使节身边的小丑吧。”

许多乌托邦人对那些金链子很不满。

“我看那些金链子不好用，”有人说道。“看上去太细了，很容易就被奴隶挣断了，而且太松了，奴隶可以随时挣脱逃跑呀！”

这些使节在乌托邦住上一两天后，发现情况有些不对劲。乌托邦金银无数，毫不值钱，被看做极其卑贱的标志，与他们自己珍视金银的情形恰恰相反。他们看到了一个逃亡的奴隶身上所戴的金银链铐比他们三个使节一起佩戴的金子还要多。因此，他们不再炫耀，并对自己感到羞愧万分，脱下自己傲慢华丽的服饰，尤其是和乌托邦人亲切交谈后，他们更加了解那里的风俗和见解了。比如，乌托邦人很不理解，一个人可以仰视天空中群星乃至太阳，为何仍喜欢小小石头的闪闪微光。他们也不明白为何有人因为自己身上穿的是细线羊毛衣，就料想自己比其他人更加高贵。毕竟不管羊毛质地多么细，起初都是出自羊身上，且他们认为这东西再好也不过就是一只羊。

同样，乌托邦人也不理解本身毫无用处的黄金何以在世界各地目前如此受重视，甚至比活生生的人还要珍贵，而黄金的价值是由人创造，黄金本身也只是供人使用的。结果是一个木头脑袋的傻子，不正直，不懂事，只因为他拥有非常多的金币，就可以奴役大批聪明人和善良的人。同样，如果由于时运不济或是某种法律骗局（这种骗局如运气一样易使贵者贱者角色互换），之前的黄金从其主人手中转到他全家最卑微的杂役手中，这个主人无疑不久会去伺候他的旧仆人似乎他是金钱的附属品，成为了自己仆人的仆人。但是更让乌托邦人感到惊奇而且也憎恨的是，某些人疯狂地崇拜富人并非因为他们自己欠富人的债，或受富人的权力掌控，却仅仅因为他们富有而崇拜，尽管他们很清楚富人吝啬小气，只要还活在世上一天也不会分给他们一分钱。

乌托邦人形成这些见解一方面来自于他们成长的社会制度，因为完全不同于上面说的那种愚昧无知，也来自他们的阅读和教育。当然，并不是每一个学生都可免除其余一切工作全日学习，只有每个城市极少数从小天资聪颖爱好学问的人可以专门从事学术工作。然而所有孩子都接受基础教育大部分公民，无分男女，都可以利用上文提到的体力劳动后的剩余时间进行学习。他们用本国语言学习各科知识，这种语言既拥有丰富的词汇，发音也悦耳动听，又极富表现力在这个小世界的每个角落，人们都说着相同的语言，只是在其他各地或多或少运用不同程度的形式而已。

我们来到乌托邦以前，他们对任何欧洲著名的哲学家一无所知。但是在音乐、逻辑、算术以及几何各个领域，他们发现的原理就几乎赶上了我们早期的哲学家。然而尽管他们在其他多数学科方面可以和古人相提并论，但他们远不如我们现在的逻辑学家成就斐然。比如，我们的儿童在《逻辑入门这一科中普遍要学习了限制、扩大、假定等我们独创出的各条规则，但乌托邦人还未发现其中的任何一条。关于“再概念乌托邦人也未曾思考，甚至都无从认出人本身作为一般化的概念。现在如你所知，这样的人比任何巨人还更巨大，虽然我们解释的非常清楚，但他们还是无法理解。

另一方面，乌托邦人是天文学方面的专家，发明了多种仪器，可以精确测定日月以及他们所在半球能见到的各种天体的位置及运行。而对于占星学的星辰相生相克和根据星辰占人或所有的骗人把戏，他们视为怪诞胡说，做梦也没有想过去研究。

他们从长期实践总结的确切征兆，可以预测风雨及其他一切天气变化。如上述各种现象的起因，潮汐何以形成，海水何以含盐，总之，关于天体和宇宙的起源及本质，他们的论点和我们古代哲学家的论点大致相同。和我们古代哲学家相互之间有一定程度分歧一样，他们之间对问题的理解也存在分歧，共同创建全新的理论的学者，彼此也会秉持不同的意见。

在道德层面上，他们的争论和我们相同。他们区分了心理、生理以及环境这三类“善”。他们同样疑惑“善”这个名称是指这三者呢，还是仅仅是心理的特性。他们讨论美德及快乐，但主要的争论的是人类幸福的本质依赖于一个因素还是多个因素？关于这个问题，他们似乎过分倾向于享乐主义的观点，认为快乐是构成人类全部幸福或主要幸福的因素。尤其令人惊讶的是，他们竟援引宗教为这种放纵的学说作辩护，而他们的宗教原则即使不冷酷无情，也是认真严肃的。可以看出他们所讨论的幸福问题总是与哲学的理性和宗教的原则相关联，否则理性本身就无法定义真正的幸福。

这些原则首先认为每一个灵魂都是不灭的，是上帝创造的，灵魂生来注定享有幸福。其次，我们行善修德，在另一个世界将有所回报；我们为非作恶，死后将受到惩罚。这些固然是属于宗教的原则，然而乌托邦人主张，人们承认这些原则是出于理性。一旦你不遵守这些原则将会怎样？乌托邦人便毫不迟疑告诉你，无论多么愚笨的人都知道该如何做。你应当全力追求自己的快乐，不必顾虑对错。只不过你须力求不要贪图小的快乐而妨碍大的快乐，也不要贪图会招致痛苦后果的快乐。如果没有渴望得到的事物，何需追求严峻艰苦的德行，放弃人生的甜蜜，刻意忍受痛苦呢？乌托邦人认为这是极不明智的行为。如果没有任何好处，死后未能得到补偿又何必一生过不快乐、悲惨的日子呢？

乌托邦人并不把每一种快乐都视为幸福——只有更高层次的快乐才能称为真正的幸福。他们也不把拥有美德视为幸福的源泉——除非这种思想与众不同。通常人们认为美德促使我们的自然本性走向幸福，正如走向至善一样，即遵循人的本性，上帝创造我们就是要我们这样生活。但是，这包括遵循人的天性，在自己的喜恶方面服从理性。而理性也教导我们，首先是人们要对全能的上帝有爱意和尊敬，因为是上帝创造了我们并使得我们能享受幸福。其次，理性劝告人们尽量过舒适快乐的生活，并帮助其他同伴也过上这样的生活。

事实上，就算是最严厉的修道者对快乐的指责也会有某些矛盾的地方。他虽然叫人经历充满苦役、睡眠不足和不够舒适的生活，但同时也劝导人尽力减轻他人的痛苦和贫困他把改善人们生活处境的努力视为值得赞扬的人道主义行为因为没有什么比减轻他人的痛苦，结束他们的悲哀并使他们重获生活的乐趣即追求快乐的资格，更加符合人性或更加符合自然。因此，为什么我们不遵循自然同样对待自己呢？

或者，享受生活即体验快乐是坏事，那么你不应该帮助别人追求这样的生活，而应该尽量将所有人从这种可怕的命运中解救出来——亦或，享受生活对别人来说是好事，且不只是你的专权，而应该使别人也能够享受生活，既然如此为什么自己不首先享受生活呢？毕竟，你不仅仅要对你身边的人负责，还要对自己负责，而且，大自然要你善待他人的同时并不会转过头来要你苛待自己。所以乌托邦人认为享受生活——即快乐——是大自然指示人们追求的目标，乌托邦人认为美德就是遵循自然规律。然而，大自然还要我们在追求快乐的生活时互相帮助，这样做的理由非常充分，因为没有谁能成为大自然唯一眷顾的对象，大自然对所有人都是一视同仁的。因此，大自然告诫我们，追求自身利益不能以牺牲他人的利益为代价。

在这个原则的基础上，乌托邦人认为不仅要遵守私人之间的合约，还应该遵守有关生活物资——即获得快乐的物质的分配的公共法令——这些法令或是由贤明的当政者正式颁布的，或是由未遭受任何形式的暴政和欺骗的人民一致通过的。他们认为，在法令允许的范围内追求个人利益才是明智的，另外，还要照顾公共利益，那是道德上的责任。为了使自己快乐而剥夺他人的快乐是不公平的，而将自己的快乐分加给他人是一种人道主义行为，这样做你得到的快乐将比你失去的要更多。一方面，对方通常会将利益回报给你。另一方面，由于做了好事帮助他人得到他人的喜爱和善意所产生的精神上的满足感远比失去的那一点点物质上的快乐要多得多。最后——信仰宗教的人很容易接受的观点是——上帝会给与我们永恒的大快乐来奖励我们放弃短暂快乐的做出的小小牺牲因此，他们认为，归根结底，快乐是人类所追求的最根本的幸福，甚至包括道德行为在内。

乌托邦人认为快乐就是一种自然而然感到愉悦的身心状态或活动。在这里关键词是自然而然。他们认为，我们的理性和本能都驱使我们通过自然的途径享受快乐，这种快乐不会伤害他人，也不会妨碍更大的快乐或造成不良后果。然而人类却愚蠢地将本不是快乐的事物称之为快乐——好似改变定义就能轻易地改变事实一样。现在乌托邦人认为，这种事物不但不能带来快乐，反而使快乐成为不可能得到的事物——因为，一旦你适应了这种所谓的快乐，你将无法追求真正的快乐，而只是沉迷在虚幻的快乐中。这些事物本身通常并不能带来快乐，事实上大多数只会带来不愉快。可是由于不良诱惑的驱使，这些事物不仅成为了生活中最重要的快乐，甚至成为了生活的主要原因。

在追求虚假快乐的人当中，乌托邦人把我先前提及的那类人也包括在内，他们自以为穿了比别人更高级的衣服就高人一等。事实上他们在认为自己的衣服高级和自己高级这两方面都错了。从实用的观点来看，为什么穿着细毛线就比粗毛线好呢？但他们却认为细毛线当然更加高级，穿上这样高级的衣服他们就身价倍增。因而他们觉得自己有资格享有原本穿着不甚考究时所不敢觊觎的尊敬，倘若受到怠慢，他们就会愤怒不已。

谈到尊敬，看重空虚无益的尊敬不也是非常愚蠢么？别人对你脱帽下跪能给你带来什么真正的快乐呢？这能够治好你膝盖上的风湿病或者减轻你的头疼吗？当然，很多相信这种虚假快乐的人都认为自己很“高贵”并非常自负。而现今，那仅仅意味着他们有幸出身在世代富有的家庭而已，尤其是富有地产的家庭。但即使他们未曾继承到上述遗产，或早已将所继承的财产挥霍一空，他们仍然认为自己很“高贵”。

还有另一种我先前提到的人，他们贪爱珠宝，如果他得到某种稀世珍宝，尤其是当时在他的国家最值钱的珠宝，他们就会快乐似神仙——因为同样的宝石在不同的地方和时代具有不同的价值。但是他们唯恐被表象所蒙蔽，所以不取下所有镶金的外壳仔细检察宝石的本色他们是绝不会购买的。而且还必须要珠宝商郑重地保证并写下书面担保，确认宝石是正品才肯购买。但是我亲爱的先生，如果你无法辨别真假，那么假货何以无法像真货一样给你带来快乐呢？就好像对一个瞎子来说——真货和假货对你来说没有任何区别！

而现在，那些以聚集多余的财富为乐，不为别的只为欣赏的人又如何呢？他们的快乐是真正的快乐还只是虚假的快乐呢？另一种疯狂的人，他们把金子埋藏起来，永不使用，并且可能永远都不再过目。实际上，在他们担心失去这些金子的时候却刻意地使自己失掉了这些金子——因为这些金子埋在地下之后，既对金子的主人没有任何益处，也不可能对别人有任何好处，这样以来不是失去又是什么呢？然而，他却以收藏金子为乐。因为这样他似乎就不必为丢失财物而担心了。但是，假如那些财物被盗，而财物的主人十年后在不知财物被盗的情况下去世了，在财物丢失的这十年期间他照样活得好好的，那么在这十年当中这些钱财在与不在对他来说又有什么分别呢？这些钱对他来说毫无用处。

乌托邦人认为，沉迷于这类愚蠢的快乐的人还包括赌博——这是一种乌托邦人听说过但从未实践过的愚蠢行为以及打猎和鹰猎。乌托邦人不明白，在桌子上掷色子有什么乐趣？而且，即使一开始有乐趣，那么整天玩也总该厌烦了吧？而听到一群猎狗狂吠大叫，除了令人反感外，又有什么乐趣可言呢？为何看见狗追兔比看见狗追狗更让人开心呢？如果奔跑能使你开心的话，那么这两者的本质是一样的。但是如果你真正的乐趣在于杀戮并眼看一只动物在你面前被撕碎，那么，看到一只弱小无辜的小兔子被一只凶残的狗吞食不是应该让你感到同情才对吗？

所以，乌托邦人认为打猎有损自由人民的尊严，并将所有的打猎活动交给屠夫，我在前面说过，屠夫是奴隶。在他们看来，打猎是屠宰工作中最卑贱的一部分，因为屠夫的其他工作比打猎更实用更值得尊敬。普通的屠夫比猎人更加有节制地宰杀牲畜，他们只在必要的时候才宰杀，而猎人却以残杀可怜的小动物为乐。乌托邦人认为，除非生性残忍或者由于经常干这种野蛮的事而变得残忍，否则即使在动物之间也不会有如此血腥的杀戮。

有许许多多类似的事情通常都被当做快乐，但是乌托邦人却深信这些算不上真正的快乐，因为这些事物的本质上没有令人快乐之处。很多人的确从这些事情上获得了享受，而享受似乎就意味着感官上的快乐，但是这个争论动摇不了乌托邦人的信念。他们认为这只是坏习惯导致的主观反应，这种坏习惯使得人把不快乐的事当成快乐的，就好比孕妇有时口味坏了，会觉得板油或松节油比蜂蜜还甜。然而无论坏习惯或病态对人的判断力影响有多坏，都改变不了快乐的本质就如同改变不了其他任何事物的本质一样。

他们把真正的快乐分为两类，精神上的快乐和肉体上的快乐。精神上的快乐包括获取知识和追求真理所获得的满足感，还包括对美好生活的回忆和对未来幸福的展望。肉体上的快乐又分为两种。第一种能让人充分感受到快感。这种快感可能是由身体消耗掉的自然热能得到补充替换所带来的，比如当我们吃饭或喝水时感到的快乐；也可能是由排泄体内一些过剩物质所带来的，例如大便、性交或任何能够减轻疼痛的摩擦或抓挠。然而，还有一种快乐，它既不来自于满足器官的需求，也不来自于减轻先前提到的不适。它以一种神秘的却又明显的方式直接触动我们的感官，占据人们的感应。这就是音乐带来的快乐。

第二种身体的快乐来自于身体的平静和协调的运作——即不受任何疾病干扰的健康的身体状态所带来的快乐。即使没有外部引发的快乐，没有精神上的不适就能给人愉悦的感觉。当然，和吃喝所带来的原始的快感相比，这种快乐并不那么明显，也不会给人以强烈的感受，尽管如此，这种快乐常常被认为是生活中最大的快乐。几乎所有的乌托邦人认为健康是非常重要的快乐，因为，健康是其他一切快乐的基础。只要有健康，就能享受快乐的生活，如果没有健康，就谈不上其他快乐。然而，失去了健康但不觉得痛苦的人，乌托邦人认为他们并不是快乐，而是麻木。

一些思想家通常主张，和谐平静的健康状态不能称为快乐，因为只有在与它的对立面相比较时才能够察觉它的存在——是的，他们对这个问题作了彻底的研究。但这个理论已经是陈旧的观点了，而现在，几乎所有人都赞同健康确实是一种快乐的观点。有这样一种争论——疾病带来痛苦，痛苦是快乐的的大敌，而疾病是健康的大敌，所以健康带来快乐。他们认为不论你说疾病就是痛苦还是说疾病带来痛苦都不重要。两者的结果是一样的。同样，不论你认为健康就是快乐，或者健康带来快乐，就如同火必然带来热一样，所得出的合理的结论就是：拥有健康体魄的人才能享受快乐！

此外，他们还说，我们吃东西时，是这么回事。我们衰退的健康借助食物的力量打败饥饿。渐渐地，健康开始获胜并且身体在这个过程中恢复了元气，并感受到使我们神清气爽的愉悦。现在，既然健康享受这种战斗之乐，那它能不为胜利而喜悦吗？或者我们设想，当健康最终恢复了固有的活力——它一直为之战斗的目标——难道它就立刻昏迷，对自己的胜利毫无意识或不加利用吗？对于除非通过它的对立面否则健康就无法被感觉到的观点，乌托邦人认为这种说法是完全不实的。每个人都能很好的意识到健康，除非他麻木不仁或已病入膏肓。即使最迟钝最冷漠的人也会承认健康的愉悦——愉悦不就是快乐的同义词吗？

乌托邦人尤其喜欢精神的快乐，他们认为那是最重要的并将这种快乐归因于良好的品行和问心无愧。他们最为推崇的肉体上的快乐是健康。当然，他们主张吃饭、喝水、以及诸如此类的享受，但这些享受都只是为了促进健康，因为就这些享受本身而言没什么快乐——只是这些是抵御疾病侵袭的方法而已。他们认为，一个明智的人宁愿保持健康而不愿寻医问药；宁愿感受快乐，而不愿寻求安慰。同样，与其沉溺于这种快乐，还不如不要这样的快乐。因为，如果你认为这类事物能使你快乐，那你就得承认你所认为的非常幸福的生活就是不断的饥饿、口渴、发痒，然后不断的吃、喝、擦和挠——这显然会是最不愉快、最令人厌恶的生活。毫无疑问，这些快乐是最低级的快乐，因为它们非常不纯。例如，吃饭的快乐总是伴随着饥饿的痛苦，且两者比例也不平衡——因为痛苦更加强烈也更加持久。它产生于快乐之前，直到快乐和它一同消失它才停止。

所以，除非必要，乌托邦人并不过多追求这类快乐。然而他们也还是享受这种快乐，并对大自然母亲充满感激，因为她鼓励她的孩子成就了日常生活所需的一切美好的事物。试想假使我们每天用来治疗饥渴的东西，就像治疗疾病的苦药一样，生活该多么乏味！

乌托邦人珍视大自然赐予人类的特殊礼物，诸如美丽、强壮以及敏捷。他们也喜欢视觉、听觉和嗅觉上的快乐，这些是人类所特有的——因为其他任何生物都无法领略世界的美好，除寻找食物之外无法闻到任何气味，也不能区别和谐与纷争。他们认为这些是生活的调味品。

然而，他们在这一切事物中遵守这样的规定，不因小快乐而妨碍大快乐，且不因快乐而引起痛苦——他们认为不道德的快乐必然招致痛苦。但是，他们从来不去想象轻视自己的美，损耗自己的体力，把敏捷的身体变得迟钝，用绝食来损坏自己的体魄，毁掉自己的健康，或摒弃大自然的其他任何礼物，除非他们这么做是为了给他人或社会谋福利，期望上帝回报他更大的快乐。因为他们认为以虚假的名声折磨自己是非常荒谬的，这种虚假的名声不能给任何人带来好处，或者是为了锻炼自己，使自己能够抵御永远不会到来的灾难。他们认为这样的行为纯粹是一种自我毁灭，也是对大自然忘恩负义的表现——犹如，拒绝大自然的恩赐是因为不屑于从大自然获得任何东西。

好了，以上就是乌托邦人的道德观，并且，他们认为如果没有神明的启示，人类理智不可能想出更正确的观点。我们没有时间去探究他们的观点正确与否——事实上也没必要去探究，因为我的任务就是描述他们的生活方式，而不是为其辩护。

但有一件事我确信无疑。不管你们对他们的观点抱有什么样的看法，世上再也找不出比他们更繁荣的国家或更优秀的民族。身体上，他们非常敏捷，充满活力，比他们的体型所显示的更加强壮——而你不能说他们个子并不矮小。他们的土地并不很肥沃，而且气候也并不是非常好，但通过平衡的饮食，他们建立起了对恶劣气候状况的抵御机制，并通过精心耕作改善土质。其结果是，乌托邦人打破了粮食和牲畜产量的所有纪录，他们是世界上寿命预期值最高，且发病率最低的。因此，通过科学方法，他们在原本贫瘠的一个国家中创造出了奇迹。他们的才能不仅仅局限在耕作上。你还会发现他们将整座森林连根拔起然后种植到别处，这不是为了增加产量，而是通过将树林种植在靠近海、或河流、或城市方便木材的运输——因为通过陆路运木材比运粮食更加费劲那里的人既亲切又聪明，富有幽默感。虽然他们喜欢轻松的生活，但必要时，他们也能参加辛苦的体力劳动。除非他们不怎么喜欢这种劳动——但他们对用脑子的活从不感到厌倦。

我向他们谈起希腊文学和哲学时——由于我不认为拉丁语中有什么让他们特别喜欢的东西——他们非常渴望在我的讲解下学习原作。于是我开始给他们上课，起初只是因为我本不愿拒绝，并没有期望能取得什么成效。但很快我便意识到有如此勤奋刻苦的学生，我的努力不会白费。他们在字母和发音的学习上毫无困难，记忆东西如此之快，背诵的如此流利，如果不是我知道自愿学习课程的学员都是通过议会批准的成熟的优秀学者，我会觉得这简直是一大奇迹。所以，在不到三年的时间里，他们精通了希腊文，并且，他们能毫不费劲的阅读任何名家的作品，除非原文中有错误。

我推测希腊文和他们的语言有某种相通的地方，所以他们觉得希腊文很容易掌握。要知道，我不禁在想他们肯定是希腊人出身，因为尽管他们的语言更像波斯语，但其中的地名和官名都保留有希腊文的痕迹。我赠送给他们一些希腊书籍——因为在我第四次出航时，我打算长期不返航，也许干脆再也不返航了，所以，我在船上装了满满一大箱子的书，而没装出售的货物。我给了他们许多柏拉图的著作，甚至更多亚里士多德的著作，还有西俄夫拉斯塔斯的关于植物的书——但遗憾的是，这本书被严重损坏了，由于我在航海途中疏于保管，被一只猴子发现，它将书拿去玩耍，扯掉了各处的许多页，并将它们撕碎了。我带给他们的唯一本语法书是拉斯卡里斯的，因为我并没有把狄奥多的书带来，而词典我也只给他们带了黑西基阿斯和代俄斯科里提斯的。他们也读普卢塔克的作品，这是他们最喜爱的作家，同时，他们也发现琉善的作品妙趣横生。诗歌方面有以亚里士多芬、荷马、和幼里披底斯为代表的作品——对了，还有索福克里斯的作品——用小号阿尔德排版的，历史方面，有修西得底斯和希罗多德的作品，更不消说赫罗提安的作品了。

我的朋友汤米罗德也带来了一些医学方面的书，有希波格拉底一些短文以及伽林的《小技艺》。乌托邦人很重视这些书，因为，虽然在世界各国中，乌托邦对医药的需求最少但乌托邦人最尊重医药。他们认为医学是最有意思也是最重要学科中的一种——而且，在他们看来，对自然的探索不仅是一个愉快的过程，更是博得造物主赞许的最佳方式。因为他们设想，造物主就如艺术家一样，将宇宙不可思议的系统呈现在人类面前让人去观察——因为只有人类才有能力理解它——想必造物主一定特别喜欢仔细观察并赞赏他杰作的人而不是那种对他的杰作视而不见，像低等动物一样在令人惊叹的奇观面前无动于衷的人。

他们通过将经过锻炼的智力运用到各学科，变得非常善于发明各种运用在日常生活中的物品。但是，有两种发明他们还得感谢我们——虽然大部分还是要归功于他们自己。因为当我们给他们看阿尔德用纸张印刷的书，并谈起一些有关印刷和造纸时——由于我们对这两门技术也知之甚少，我们没法对这些做很正确的解释——他们立刻非常聪明地推测出这些是怎么完成的。在那之前，他们只会制造皮革、树皮或纸草手本，但现在他们立即开始造纸和印刷样本了。一开始他们并不太成功，但经过反复试验之后，他们很快便完全掌握了这两门技术，如果不是缺少原著，他们恐怕早已拥有所有的希腊书籍。实际上，他们只有我刚才提到的那些书可是他们已经将这些书印刷出版了好几千册。

对于外国游客，如果他们才智出众，或游历过许多不同的国家见多识广，定会受到乌托邦人的热情欢迎。这就是他们如此乐意见到我们的原因，因为他们对世界其他各地所发生的事喜闻乐见。但很少有商人造访乌托邦，因为除了铁之外乌托邦人没有什么需要进口的，而金银则是商人要从这里带回家的。至于他们自己的出口贸易，他们更愿意自己来运输而不是让外人来取，因为这样能使他们获得更多关于外部世界的经历，同时多锻炼自己的航海技术。

顺便提一下，我偶尔提到的奴隶并不是你们想象的那样，他们不是战俘、不是天生的奴隶或者从别国奴隶市场买来的。乌托邦的奴隶要么是本国犯人，要么更多的是被判刑的外国犯人，他们获得了大批这样的奴隶，有时候是花少量的钱买来的，但通常都是免费要来的。虽然乌托邦的奴隶比外国奴隶受到更严厉的处罚，但这两种奴隶都要戴着镣铐辛苦地劳作。他们的观点是这样的，如果一个受到最优越的教育和非常优秀的道德教育的人仍然要成为罪犯，这是尤其可悲的事——所以理应受到更加严厉的处罚。

另一种奴隶是外国的工人，他们自愿到乌托邦来当奴隶也不愿在自己的国家过悲惨贫困的日子。这些人受到人们的尊重，并和乌托邦的公民享受同等的待遇，只是他们工作辛苦一些，因为他们早已习惯了干重活。如果他们想要离开乌托邦，这种情况不常发生，他们完全有自由离开，还会收到乌托邦人的一件小赠品。

就如我告诉过你们的那样，如果有人生病了，他们会受到最周到的照料，并得到能够帮助恢复健康的各种药物或特殊食物。对于那些患有不治之症的病人，护士会与他们促膝交谈来减轻他们的痛苦，并想尽一切办法来缓解他们的病症。但是，如果病痛不但无药可治，还会使病人受尽病痛的折磨，一些教士和政府官员会去看望病人，并对他们说：

“让我们面对现实吧，你已经无法过正常的生活了。你已成为别人的麻烦和自己的负担——实际上你的存在早已过了死亡期限。这样的话为什么还要让病菌存活下去呢？既然活着对你来说如此痛苦，为什么还要在死亡面前犹豫？你就像被囚禁在酷刑室里一样——为什么你不挣脱并逃到另一个更美好的世界去呢？或者你可以提出要求，我们帮助你得到解脱。这样做是要减轻你的痛苦。这也是听从教士的劝诫的虔诚的行为，因为教士代表上帝的意志。”

如果病人听从这些劝诫，他会或者会绝食而死，或者吃点安眠药毫无痛苦的结束他悲惨的生命。但这必须是完全自愿的，而且，如果病人宁愿继续活着，所以人都会一如既往地悉心照料他。官方认可的安乐死被认为是一种光荣的死亡——但是如果你为了教士和议员都认为不够充分的理由而自杀，那么你就没有权利得到安葬或火化，并且你的尸体会被随意抛弃进水塘。

女子在十八岁之前不允许结婚——男子则还要等四年任何男女在婚前私通都会受到严厉的处罚，而且以后永远没有资格结婚，除非他们得到市长的宽恕。在发生这种事情的家庭里，管事的男女户主也会蒙受耻辱，因为他们没有尽好自己的职责。乌托邦人对这种罪行处罚非常严厉，因为他们认为如果不认真防止婚前性行为，那么很少会有人愿意结婚——结婚意味着和另一半共同生活一辈子，并忍受婚姻生活中的各种麻烦。

当他们考虑结婚时，他们的做法在我们看来非常荒谬但他们非常严肃的遵循这种做法。不管准新娘是未婚还是寡妇，都会全身裸露，由一位受人尊敬的已婚妇女带到准新郎的面前，同样，新郎也是全身赤裸，由一位适合的男伴带到新娘面前。当我们笑话这样的制度，认为这太愚蠢时，乌托邦人会立刻反过来笑话我们。

他们说，“让我们觉得太奇怪的是其他国家的愚蠢的做法。你在买一匹马时，这件事其实无关紧要，只是需要花点钱而已，你尚且谨慎小心。虽然这只动物几乎是赤裸的，但你仍要取下马鞍和所有挽具确定下面没有任何烂疮才肯付钱。但是在挑选妻子，一个不管怎么样都将陪伴你一生的人时，你却那么不仔细。你甚至连包装都懒得拆开。仅仅从几平方英寸大的脸来评价一个女子的全部，你能看到的就只是她的脸，然后就决定娶她——冒着当你看见真实的她时发现根本就不是你所喜欢的人的风险。如果你只注重美德那当然就不用担心了——但不是所有人都这么明智，而且就算是明智的男人有时也发现，结婚之后，一个美丽的身体可以是对一个美丽灵魂的最有效补充。那些包装确实能够轻易掩盖足以毁掉丈夫对妻子感情的丑陋，但这时候要分开已经来不及了。当然，如果妻子是在婚后才变丑的，丈夫就只能认命——但是人的确需要法律的保护以防在婚姻问题上受骗。”

根据他们的情况，这种预防是很有必要的，因为与他们的邻国不同的是，乌托邦人实行严格的一夫一妻制。对于大多数已婚夫妇而言，只有死亡才会导致他们分离，除非发生通奸行为或者有令对方无法忍受的恶劣行为，这种情况下受害的一方会得到议会的许可另行择偶——有过错的一方则会蒙受耻辱并被罚永远单身。但是如果妻子没有过失，只是身体状况恶化，丈夫不能以此为由离弃妻子。在一个人最需要安慰的时候将其抛弃是非常残忍的，乌托邦人认为，如果允许这种事情的发生，那么人到老年将没有任何安全感，因为年老不仅会导致许多疾病，且年老本身就是一种疾病。

可是，有时候夫妻双方因感情不和，在丈夫和妻子都找到能够使他们幸福的伴侣时，允许他们在双方一致同意的情况下离婚。但是这种情况需要获得特别批准，只有在经过议员和他们的妻子的严格调查之后才能获得批准。即使理由充分且经过了严格的调查，他们也很不愿意批准离婚，因为他们认为，没有什么比轻易离婚更不利于巩固婚姻关系。

通奸者要判苦役。假使双方都已经结婚，那么他们的受害者如果愿意的话可以获得批准离婚并相互结合，或者和自己选择的其他任何人结婚。但是，倘若受害者仍然爱着不值得他们爱的配偶，只要受害者愿意和充当奴隶的配偶一起干活，那么他们就可以继续维持婚姻关系。这种情况下，市长有时会被有罪一方的懊悔和无辜一方的忠贞所感动并让他们都重获自由。但是如果再犯，他将会被处死刑。

在其他罪行方面，法律并没有规定明确的处罚——议会根据每个案件的情况来处以适当的判决。除非是罪行严重到不得不由官方处理，以便于促进社会道德，一般情况下，丈夫有责任惩罚妻子，父母有责任惩罚孩子。对于重罪的处罚通常是充当奴隶。他们认为对于犯人来说，充当奴隶与判处死刑同样可怕，且把他们罚为奴隶比把他们立刻消灭更有利于社会，因为活着的劳力比死了的犯人更有社会价值，并能起到更长久遏制犯罪的作用。然而，如果罪犯胆敢反抗这样的处罚，且不服从任何形式的监狱惩罚，那么他们就会像野兽一般被杀死。那些接受惩罚的人的出路也不是没有任何希望。如果经过多年的艰苦劳作的驯服，他们能够表现出对自己的所作所为真心忏悔而不是为自己感到遗憾，那么或者通过市长的指令，或者全民公决，就可以减轻或完全取消对他们的惩罚。

企图诱奸会受到和实际诱奸同样的处罚。这同样适用于其他任何罪行——任何蓄意犯罪者在法律上都被认定为犯有该罪。乌托邦人认为，蓄意犯罪者并不是由于主观意愿而没有实现犯罪，因此，为何要因为他犯罪未遂而不加追究呢？

乌托邦人很喜欢弱智者，虽然侮辱他们被看做是不合礼貌的举止，但是人们可以从他们愚蠢的行为中获得乐趣。事实上，这被认为是对弱智者更加有益的，因为，如果你没有幽默细胞，欣赏不了他们的言行，那么你显然不适合观赏他们的表演。我的意思是，他们唯一有益的就是娱乐大众，如果你没有把他们当做一种娱乐，你就不可能友善对待他们。

否则你讥笑别人的丑陋或残疾，人们反而会讥笑你。因为如果你认为人们要因自己无能为力的事情受到责备的话，那么你自己就成为了一个十足的蠢人——因为虽然不好好保养天生的美貌被认为是非常懒散的，但是乌托邦人非常不赞同化妆。事实上，经验使乌托邦人发现，比起美丽的外表，丈夫更需要妻子贤淑端庄并对自己恭敬顺从。漂亮的脸蛋或许能够吸引一个男人，但是要得到他的心还需要良好的品性和温顺的脾气。

乌托邦的体制不仅阻止犯罪，而且还以公共荣誉来激励良好的品行。例如，他们在广场上给为社会做出突出贡献的伟人建立雕像，一方面纪念他们的丰功伟绩，另一方面通过对前人荣誉的景仰来激励后代更加奋发上进。但如果有人设法谋取公职，那么他将永远失去资格。乌托邦的社会关系总是和谐友好，因为官员的态度从不傲慢或令人畏惧。百姓通常称官员为“父”，而官员也确实尽到了父母官的职责。人人都尊敬他们，但没有人是被迫这样做的。甚至市长的衣着也极为普通，也没有任何特殊的头饰。唯一显示他是官员的标志是他携带的一束谷穗——就像主教总是拿着一只小蜡烛一样。

他们的法律很少，因为对于他们的社会制度来说，只需要很少的法律就足够了。实际上，他们对于其他国家的最大的抱怨就是，虽然他们已经有了种种法律以及释文，却永远都不够用。因为乌托邦人认为，用普通公民无法通读的冗长而又晦涩的法律条款来约束人们是极不公正的。而且，他们也没有操纵案情、曲解法律的律师。他们认为最好每个人为自己辩护，并直接向法官陈述他本要告知律师的事由。这样一来，问题就不易被掩盖，也更容易找出事实的真相——因为假如没人学律师那样满口谎言，法官就能运用他的聪明才智权衡案件的真相，帮助保护淳朴的人免受狡猾之人的肆无忌惮的攻击。

这种制度在其他国家无法实行，因为他们有大量的复杂的法律要处理。但在乌托邦，人人都是法律专家，理由很简单就像我前面说的，因为他们只有极少的法律，并且他们认为对法律最简洁的解释就是最正确的解释。他们认为法律的唯一目的就是提醒人们应尽的义务，因此，对法律的解释越深奥，法律的作用就越小，因为只有少数人才能理解——然而意思简洁而明了的法律人人都能一目了然。对普通民众来说即对社会中人数最多且最需要启发的人来说，最好就不要制定法律，因为制定法律之后还要经过一系列巧妙的争辩之后才能得出对法律的解释——对于每天忙于生计的普通百姓来说，他们既没有时间也没有精力来做这样的研究。

由于乌托邦人拥有如此多的美德，许多邻国邀请他们前往担任政府官员，任期一年或五年。当然，这只能发生在人民能够自己当家作主的国家——但乌托邦早已帮助周边的大部分国家摆脱了独裁统治。当这些官员任职期满，他们载誉回国，然后会有其他乌托邦人接替他们的工作。这些国家的举措当然是非常明智的，因为一个国家的安宁完全取决于行政官的品质，而乌托邦人显然是最适合这项工作。他们不可能收受贿赂徇私枉法，因为他们不久就会回国，金钱对他们来说毫无用处。再者由于他们也不熟悉当地居民，他们也不会受个人喜好影响而做出错误的决定。这些品质对于法官来说尤为重要，因为偏见和贪财是影响法庭公正的两大罪恶，一旦这两种罪恶控制了人的思想，他们就会摧毁公正，破坏社会秩序。

乌托邦人把那些请求他们派遣官员的国家称为“盟邦”，而那些他们曾经以其他形式帮助的国家称为“友邦”。其他国家频繁制定、破坏、又重订条约，但乌托邦人从不签订这样的条约。他们问道，条约有什么用处呢？人类本身不就已经联系在一起了吗？且如果人有意忽视这样的本质上的联系，那么他可能会重视形式上的承诺吗？他们持这种观点主要是因为，在他们这部分世界，国王们并不会谨慎遵守契约和协议。在欧洲，当然，尤其是在基督教盛行的地方，条约是神圣不可侵犯的，一方面因为国王贤明公正，另一方面大家都非常敬重教皇。众所周知，这些教皇不仅自己虔诚地履行自己的职责，而且要求其他所有的统治者无论如何都要遵守诺言，违抗者会受到教会严厉的处罚。显然，他们完全有理由认为，如果连所谓的“忠实信徒”都不信守条约，那是极其恶劣的。

然而在他们那部分世界，不论是社会风俗和道德伦理还是地理位置都与我们这里的世界完全相反的地方，条约根本没有效力。订约越是严肃庄重，毁约也就越快，他们只需找出措辞上的漏洞就能轻易撕毁条约。实际上，这些漏洞通常是故意加在原始条约中，这样一来，不管他们的承诺多么有约束力，他们总是能够设法逃避条约的约束，从而破坏条约背信弃义。事实是，这种外交手段完全是一直欺诈。如果那些怂恿统治者使用这种欺骗伎俩并引以为傲的人，发现同样的伎俩出现在私人合同中，他们会第一个跳出来尖锐地、自以为是地指责这是亵渎神明、罪该万死的。这似乎意味着诚实只是平民百姓的美德，远在王权的威严之下——或者说至少有两种诚实。一种适用于普通民众，一匹蹒跚的驽马套着牢固的拴绳以防它翻越任何栅栏。另一种，是属于国王的，那是一种比驽马高贵得多的动物，享有比驽马更多的自由——因为它可以做任何想做的事情。

总之，这就是那里国王们的所作所为，正如我说的，这大概就是为什么乌托邦人从不订立条约。也许如果他们住在欧洲的话可能会改变他们的想法——虽然事实上他们不赞成签订条约，但他们却严格遵守约定。他们说条约使得人们视彼此为天敌。住在同一座小山的两侧或同一条河两岸的人似乎就被割断了所有联系，使两个国家毁灭对方的企图正当化除非有特别的条约禁止。而且即使有这样的条约，也不意味着他们能友好相处，如果条约起草者一时疏忽没有把相关规定纳入条约中，他们就仍会互相掠夺。而乌托邦人的观点恰恰相反。他们认为不应该把从没对你造成伤害的人视为敌人人性本身就构成了一种条约，人类的善良能比条约更有效地团结在一起，情感比文字更有效。

谈到战争，乌托邦人非常讨厌战争。他们认为战争是不适合人类的活动，虽然人类比任何低等动物都更沉迷于战事。事实上，乌托邦人几乎是世界上唯一不把战争中的任何事情看成荣耀的人。当然，乌托邦的的男男女女都要定期参加军事训练，以防一旦需要打仗时无法作战。但他们不会轻易交战，除非需要自卫、击退友邦的侵略者、或者解放独裁统治的受害者——他们这么做是出于人道主义精神，仅仅因为同情他们。然而，乌托邦不但为友邦的自卫战争提供军事援助，也参加反击侵略的讨伐战争。这通常都要事先征得乌托邦人的同意，在他们觉得开战的理由充足，而提出的索赔遭到拒绝，且战争完全由乌托邦人控制的条件下才参战。他们认为，充足的开战理由不仅仅包括军事掠夺。他们甚至采取更强有力的行动来保护在外国受到不公正待遇商人的利益，这些不公正或者由于不公正的法律，或者由于对公正法律的故意曲解。

这就是前不久他们与柏林兰之间的战争的起因。乌托邦人给予格罗迪人军事援助，原因是一些格罗迪商人在柏林兰受到某种法律欺骗——乌托邦人大概这么认为。不论谁对谁错，结果引发了一场大战，由于周边各国的介入，加剧了原本的冲突所带来的怨恨。到战事结束时，一些强国被削弱，其他国家也损失惨重。至于柏林兰人，经历一系列灾难后，他们终于投降了。乌托邦人没有从中获得任何战利品——他们的动机自始至终都是公正无私的——但是柏林兰人沦为了格罗迪人的奴隶，过去格罗迪人的实力根本无法与柏林兰人相提并论。

如你所见，乌托邦人是如何很快就为他们的朋友所受的伤害进行报复的，哪怕只是涉及金钱的问题。但他们对自己所受的伤害却更加容忍。如果乌托邦人商人被骗去了货物但是没有受到人身伤害，那么他们采取的最强硬的行动也只是与该国停止贸易往来，直到他们得到补偿为止。他们这么做不是因为他们更不关心本国人民的利益——只是其他国家的人民更易受到欺骗的伤害，因为那意味着他们损失的是他们自己的私有财产，而乌托邦人在同样的情况下什么个人损失也没有，损失由国家承担。此外，丢失的货物都是国内需求过剩的物资，否则的话他们是绝不会出口的。所以没有人会为这点损失感到难过——而且，他们认为为了一些对任何一个乌托邦人的生命或生活毫无影响的损失去进行报复而杀害许多生命是非常残忍的。但如果致使他们的公民身体残废或丧命，不管是因为外国政府还是因为外国个人，他们的立场就完全不同了。他们一旦通过外交渠道获得这种事故的消息，便会立即宣战。任何形式的让步都不可能息事宁人，除非对方交出为该事件负责的罪犯——这种情况下，罪犯会被处以死刑或被贬为奴隶。

他们不喜欢沾满血腥的胜利——事实上他们觉得那是非常可耻的，因为他们认为花过高的代价去购买任何东西都是很愚蠢的，不论这样东西有多么贵重。他们真正引以为豪的是用智慧战胜敌人。他们用胜利游行来庆祝这样的胜利，并树立胜利纪念碑，为英雄行为记功。你瞧，他们认为了不起的人就是要以人类特有的方式取得胜利，即运用智慧的力量取胜。他们说任何动物都可以靠身体去搏斗——熊、狮子野猪、狼、狗都能用身体对付敌人，而且这些野兽大多数比人类更加强壮更加凶猛——但是人类的理性和智慧使人类比野兽更高级。

他们发动战争只是为了达到用和平手段无法达到的目的——或者，既然非作战不可，他们就要严厉处罚侵犯者，使任何人不敢再犯。他们用速战速决来达到这些目的——但是一切以自身安全第一，国家声望第二为原则。一经宣战，他们通过特工人员在敌人境内一些显眼的地方同时张贴大量公告。这些公告上盖有乌托邦政府的公章，对杀死敌国国王者有重赏。他们对杀死公告名单中其他人员也提供了次等但也很可观的大笔奖金，因为他们是仅次于国王的反乌托邦政策的主要支持者。活捉这些人的奖金是杀死他们的一倍——若是被铺的人员反过来对付自己的伙伴，乌托邦也向他们提供同样丰厚的奖金，并给他们自由。

这样做的直接结果就是名单里提到的每个人都变得草木皆兵，他们互相猜疑，互不信任。他们长期处在恐惧状态中，这完全是事出有因的——因为听说所有的敌人，包括国王自己也被身边最信任的人出卖。事实上，有钱能使鬼推磨，而乌托邦人准备的金钱是没有限数的。考虑到反水者的风险，乌托邦人会谨慎地给予他们相应的利益作为补偿。所以，除了大量的黄金之外，乌托邦人还允诺在安全友好的邻邦给予价值不菲的房产——且乌托邦人向来信守承诺。

这种贿赂买通敌人的方法通常被认为卑鄙而残忍的，但乌托邦人认为这是值得夸耀的。他们认为能够不费一兵一卒而解决这样一场大战是非常明智的，且牺牲少数有罪之人来拯救数以千计的无辜生命也是最为仁慈的。他们为所有可能战死沙场的士兵着想，即考虑自己这一方，也考虑对方——因为他们既同情本国的人民，也同样同情敌方的人民。他们认识到如果不是被他们的统治者的疯狂所迫，他们是绝不会投入战争的。

如果这种方法失败，乌托邦人就会通过鼓动国王的兄弟或其他王亲贵族觊觎王位而使敌人内部产生不和。如果内部不和有消失的迹象，他们就翻出某些陈年旧账，国王们从不缺乏此类劣迹，进而引发一些邻国的敌意。他们承诺在战争中对倒戈者给予支持，并提供充足的金钱和少许人力——因为他们彼此非常珍爱，不愿意牺牲任何一个乌托邦公民，即使用一个公民去换敌国的国王，他们也不干。但他们更乐意把黄金白银拿出来，因为储存金银就是为了应战，且他们知道即使他们把金银都花光也丝毫不会影响他们的生活水平此外，除了国内的资金外，他们还拥有大量国外资产，因为正如我上面所说，很多国家都欠他们债。

因此，乌托邦的大多数战争都是由雇佣兵去打。他们从世界各地招募雇佣兵，特别是从一个叫维纳利亚的地方，这是个离乌托邦东面五百英里的地方。维纳利亚人非常野蛮而又凶残——他们喜欢他们生长的原始森林和险峻的山地。他们身强体壮，耐热耐寒且不怕身体上的劳苦。他们完全不知道快乐为何物，从来不会耕作，且对衣着和住房也同样随意除了寻找战事之外，他们多以打猎和偷窃为生。事实上，他们似乎天生合适打仗。他们总是寻求打仗的机会，当他们找到了机会，只要提供微薄报酬，他们就成千上万的去为任何一个需要士兵的国家服务。因为杀戮是他们唯一懂得的谋生方法。

他们对雇主忠心耿耿，但不能保证他们会持续多久。他们加入你第二天就可能加入你的敌人一方，只要对方出更高的佣金，假如给得价钱更高一点，再过一天他们又会回来。在许多战争中，你都会发现双方的士兵中有许多都是维纳利亚人。因此你能想象到会发生什么样的事情。同一个家庭的两个成员应征在同一军队。他们忽而是最要好的朋友——忽而又互相敌对并像死敌一样对峙。他们忘记所有的血缘亲情和友谊并拼命互相残杀。他们互相消灭的唯一动机就是不同的国王付给他们的一点点金钱——金钱对他们来说非常重要，因此一天多给半便士就足以使他们倒戈相向。但虽然他们很快便贪婪成性，却没得到半点好处，因为他们把流血杀生挣来的钱立刻投入堕落肮脏的生活。

这些人愿意为乌托邦对抗世界上任何国家，因为世上再没有谁愿意付这么多钱给他们。你瞧，乌托邦人既善于雇用好人，也热衷于发掘并利用坏人。所以必要时他们就用丰厚的赏金来引诱维纳利亚人去从事疯狂的事情，去做这样的事情的人多数都再也没命回来索要他们的酬劳。但那些完成任务的人都能领取到全部酬金，这样他们会觉得值得因而将来会再次冒险。因为乌托邦人不在乎有多少维纳利亚人为他们送命。他们说，要是他们能够将那些肮脏的糟粕从地球上完全清除掉，他们就能给人类带来一个很好的转变。

乌托邦的第二人力来源于他们为维护其利益而作战的国家。其次就是其他友邦，最后是乌托邦自己的公民，并从自己的公民中选出一位经过考验的有能力者指挥联合军队。他们还在指挥官身边安排另外两人，在指挥官一切安好时，他们没有什么特殊职责。但如果指挥官被杀或被俘，这两人中之一就继任指挥官的职位——且，如果情况需要，另一个人再接替。这就可以在战场发生偶然变化，即使将军遇到什么情况，都能确保不会使整个军队陷入无组织的混乱状态。

乌托邦分遣队是由各个城市的志愿者组成的——因为没有人会被招募到国外去服役。他们认为胆怯的人不仅不可能成为好士兵，还可能削弱身边同伴的士气。但是，如果有入侵只要身体强健，这些胆怯的人也会被编入海军在可靠的人员身边，或者安排他们在城墙上服役，这样他们就没有机会逃跑。当他们真的与敌人交锋，他们碍于公众舆论，加上无路可逃，通常会战胜自己的恐惧并在绝境中像英雄一样战斗。

但是没有人会被强迫去海外参战，同样，妻子如果愿意跟随丈夫到前线，也不会被迫待在家中。相反，这样的事是受到鼓励和赞扬的。这些妻子会立即被安排在她们在战场上的丈夫身边，孩子和其他亲戚也都会安排在他身边。他们认为，那些有最强烈本能互相帮助的人会紧密团结在一起并能够渡过难关。如果丈夫回来失去了妻子，或妻子回来失去了丈夫，又或是孩子回来失去了父母，都会是极大的耻辱。这意味着一旦上了战场，如果敌人有意负隅顽抗，他们就要战斗到底。只要能够用雇佣军作战，乌托邦人就尽量避免本国公民参战，但如果最终被迫战斗，他们的勇猛也不亚于他们之前的谨慎。

他们不是一开战就猛烈战斗，但是渐渐地，随着战事的发展，他们会变得越来越坚决，宁死也寸土不让。他们知道不必为家人的生计担心，也不用为孩子的未来担忧——这两项担忧往往会瓦解战士的斗志——这使得他们斗志高昂，志在必胜。他们接受的军事训练也大大增加了他们的信心。最后从小受他们的教育和社会环境的影响所禀受的坚定信念也增强了他们的勇气。这确保了他们会珍惜生命，不会轻率地牺牲自己，但应该放弃生命时也不会苟且偷生。

在战事激烈时，会有一群经过精心选拔并发誓团结一致的青年设法消灭敌军首领。他们不断尝试各种方法干掉他——正面攻击，埋伏突袭，远程射击，近身搏斗。他们从远处冲向他不停地以楔形队形攻击，在点上的人不断更换，这样就会不断有新人来替代精疲力竭的人。这样一来，对方的首领不是被杀就是被捕——除非他能逃跑保命。

如果乌托邦人打了胜仗，他们不会大肆屠杀。他们宁可俘虏败兵也不会残杀逃兵。他们还定下了这样的规则，除非他们至少有一列队伍保有战斗队形，否则绝不追击。他们在一方面非常严格，假如在援军到达之前他们没能打胜仗，他们宁可让整个敌军都逃脱也不会开先例为追击而打乱队列。你知道，他们仍然记得自己多次用过的策略。每当乌托邦的主力军被击败，敌军得意扬扬地四处追赶掉队散兵时，这时候整个战局就会被事先埋伏好的少数乌托邦战士所扭转。他们寻找机会对四散的敌军突然袭击，由于敌军这时以为自己是安全的，所以毫无防备。因此，很多次胜利都是从敌人手中强夺过来的，从而反败为胜。

很难说是他们的攻击策略巧妙，还是他们的防御策略更巧妙。你可能以为他们要撤退，但这却是他们最后才考虑的事——当他们真正要撤退时，你可能想都没有想到他们会这么做。当他们觉得兵力严重不足或地势对他们不利时，他们会在夜间悄无声息地撤退或用其他方法迷惑敌军。不然他们就在白天撤军，但撤退时，他们秩序井然，且保持着完美的队列，在撤退时攻击他们和在行进时攻击他们一样危险。

他们的战营总是防御森严，用又深又宽的壕沟来加强防御，用壕沟里挖出的土从内测筑起壁垒。他们不会用奴隶来做这项工作，而是士兵自己来做，军队中除了少数在壁垒前站岗以防突发状况的哨兵之外，所有的士兵共同完成。由于人手充足，他们高效完成如此巨大的防御工程，速度之快令人难以置信。

他们的盔甲非常的坚固，足以提供充分的保护，但是又适合身体的各种活动。这种盔甲甚至还能穿着游泳——事实上他们从军事训练起始期就接受了身着盔甲游泳的训练。他们所使用的远程武器是箭，骑兵和步兵都是训练有素，挽弓有力，射箭精准的好手。打近身战时，他们不用刀剑，而是用战斧，因为这种战斧沉重而又锋利，用来砍杀和刺杀都同样具有杀伤力。他们还发明和制造了具有独创性的机械武器且在使用之前绝对保密——否则如果这些武器可能被看做笑话而降低了使用效果。在研发这些设备时，他们特别考虑设备携带方便和易于操作。

他们一旦签订了休战协议，无论别人如何煽动，从不破坏协议。他们从不蹂躏敌国的领土，或烧毁他们土地上的谷物——因为他们把这些谷物视为对自己有益的事物，所以他们尽力确保这些谷物不被他们的骑兵或步兵践踏。他们从不伤害手无寸铁的民众，除非他是间谍。他们对任何投降的城市都加以保护，即使是他们攻占的城市，也不洗劫。他们只处死那些反对投降的头目，而剩下的守卫则贬为奴隶。对所有的民众则毫发不动。如果得知任何人曾建议投降，他们就会将被判死刑或贬为奴隶的人的财产分一部分给这些人。其余的就赠送给盟军——因为乌托邦没有任何一个人分取战利品。

战争结束后，他们不要求使他们破费的友邦支付费用，而是要求战败国来支付。他们要求支付一部分现金，留作下一次战争的储备，一部分索要敌国境内具有自由保有权的不动产。因此他们在很多不同的国家都获得了财产，由此获得的收入，由各种来源逐渐组成的收入已经多达每季度327,000英镑。他们派出一些乌托邦公民到这些国家去充当收租人，但实际上是去过豪华的生活并成为当地的显贵。但仍有充足的资金充盈国库，除非他们愿借给所在的国家，他们经常借给这些国家，在他们自己需要用钱的时候——即使这样的情况下他们也很少全部要回。他们将这些财产中的一部分送给那些曾经被他们劝服去做我之前提过的冒险之举的人。

如果有哪个国王想交战，企图侵占乌托邦的领土，他们会派出大量军力将他拦截在境外——因为如果可以，他们从不在自己的土地上开战，而且不管在任何情况下，他们都不会允许盟军进驻本岛。

最后，我想给你们说说他们的宗教思想。岛上有几种不同的宗教，事实上，每个城镇的宗教都不同。有人崇拜日神，有人崇拜月神，还有人崇拜其他各种星辰。有人不仅把一些伟大的或优秀的先贤奉为神明，甚至尊为至高无上的神。然而，绝大多数人的观念更加理智，他们认为只有某一个单一的神，这个神是未知的、永恒的、无限的、奥妙无穷的、人类智慧无法理解的，他以一种威力而不是以物质的形式存在于整个宇宙之中。他们称这种力量为“万物之父”。他们将万物的起源与结束、生长、发展和演变都归功于他。除了他，乌托邦人不承认任何形式的神明。

在这一点上，诚然，所有不同的教派都意见一致——即只有一个至高无上的神，他是宇宙的创造者和主宰者，且用乌托邦的语言中他们一致称它为“密特拉”。他们所不一致的就是密特拉是谁。有人说是这个，有些人又说是那个——但所有人都坚称自己的至高无上的神明就是大自然，所有的民族都承认它的伟大力量是万事万物的唯一起源。然而，乌托邦人在所有的低等信仰上有渐行渐远的趋势，并一致接受了最合理的一种信仰。且毫无疑问，若不是人们用迷信来解释厄运，其他信仰本来早就消失了，当有人考虑更换信仰时遭到厄运，他们不认为这是巧合，而把这当做是遭到天谴——仿佛是被放弃的神明在惩罚他们的不忠。

但当我们给他们讲述基督，基督的教义，他的品行，他的奇迹，以及同样令人惊叹的殉道者的奉献，他们甘愿流血牺牲，使得许多国家皈依基督教，你想象不到使他们皈依基督教竟也如此容易。也许他们下意识地受到了某些神秘灵感的感召，又或许是基督教和他们自己的宗教原则颇为相似——虽然我应该想到他们是知道基督规定他的门徒共同生活的故事，且这种生活方式在那些最虔诚的基督教国家仍在实行，这使他们受到了很大影响。无论如何，不管作何解释很多乌托邦人接受了我们的宗教信仰，并接受了洗礼。

可惜我们四个人中没有一个是教士——是的，只有我们四个人幸存——其他两人已经死去。所以，虽然他们已经履行了其他所有的宗教仪式，但我们的皈依者还未能接受只有教士才能主持的圣礼。但他们已经了解了有关教士的事宜并希望由他们来实行圣礼，这比世界上任何事情都急迫。事实上，眼下他们正在热烈讨论在未派来基督教主教来主持仪式的情况下，是否可以从他们中间选出一个人任命为教士。看来他们肯定要推选出一名候选人来担任这项职务，虽然在我们离开之前他们还没有选出来。

当然，有许多乌托邦人拒绝接受基督教，但即使这样，他们并不阻止别人接受这一信仰，也不会侵犯已经皈依基督的人——我在当地的时候，却有一名我们公理会的成员因此陷入了麻烦。他刚接受洗礼，尽管我们劝诫过他，他仍公开发表有关基督教义的演说，他的狂热超过了谨慎。最后他情绪太过激动，不但声称基督教是最好的宗教，甚至还谴责其他宗教。他不断高声咆哮，说其他宗教都是邪恶的迷信，而信仰这些宗教的人是亵渎神明的怪物，将永远在地狱中受火刑。由于他多次这样做，最后终于被捕并遭到控告，控告理由不是亵渎神明，而是制造骚乱扰乱和平。他被证明有罪并处以流放——因为乌托邦最古老的法律原则之一就是宗教自由。

这条原则要追溯到当年诺曼人征服英国的时候。那时一直为宗教争吵不休，且各个冲突的教派无法联合起来保卫他们的国家。乌托普得知他们这样之后，认识到他之所以能够征服他们所有人的原因所在。所以他取得胜利之后就立刻制定了法律，规定每个人都能够自由信仰他喜欢的宗教，也可以规劝别人皈依自己的宗教，但是要求温和礼貌的方式通过合理的劝说使其皈依。如果他劝说失败，绝不允许对其他的宗教进行尖刻的攻击，也不能使用暴力或谩骂他人。在宗教问题上争斗过于激烈的人，通常会受到流放或贬为奴隶的处罚。

乌托普制定这样的法律，不仅为了维护和平，防止无休止的争辩和不可调和的斗争将和平破坏殆尽，而且还因为他认为这对宗教本身也是有利的。他不断言哪种信条是正确的显然他认为或许上帝使不同的人信仰不同的事物，因为上帝希望人们以不同的方式崇拜他。但他非常确信，强迫人人接受自己的信条是非常愚蠢又傲慢的。但他明显非常确定，即使只有一种宗教是真理，其他宗教都没有什么意思，真理最终会靠自身的力量战胜一切——只要能用温和理性的方式来讨论问题。但如果是由暴力解决问题，即使是最好最神圣的宗教也会沦为最愚蠢的迷信，就像谷物容易生长过旺于灌木和荆棘之中——因为最坏的人往往总是最顽固不化的。

因此乌托普将信仰选择作为一个尚未解决的问题，让人民根据自己的意志决定自己的信仰——除了他严格而又庄重地禁止他们的人民相信任何违背人尊严的事物，例如相信灵魂随肉体消亡的信条，和宇宙是无目的运行且不受神意志支配的信条。这就是为什么他们确信人死之后会有因果报应在他们看来，任何持不同观点的人都将丧失作为人的资格因为他将自己不朽的灵魂降低到和动物的躯体同一水平。他们更不把这种人看做是乌托邦的公民。他们说这样的人对乌托邦的生活方式毫不在乎——只是他们不敢这样说。理所当然地，如果一个人除了法律对任何事物都无所忌惮，且对死后也没有任何期盼，他就会为了满足自己的私欲逃避或践踏国家的法律。所以任何怀有这样的信条的人都不允许获得任何公众荣誉，担任任何公职或为任何公共机关服务。事实上这样的人通常都被视为极其卑劣的。

但这些人不管怎样都不会受到处罚，因为没有人会因为信仰受到处罚。他们也不会被威胁隐瞒自己的观点，因为乌托邦人完全不能容忍虚伪，他们认为虚伪就等同于欺骗。无可否认，任何人争辩维护自己的信仰都是违法的，但也只是在公共场合才违法。但是在与教士或其他严肃人物的私下讨论中允许甚至积极鼓励他为自己的观点申辩，因为大家坚信，这种谬见最终要为理性让步。

甚至有些乌托邦人——实际上有不少人——远远偏离了唯物主义，走向了另一个极端。当然，没有法律禁止他们，因为他们的观点也有一定的道理，且这些人本身也都非常正派。这些人认为动物也有不朽的灵魂，虽然动物的灵魂比人类的灵魂要低级得多，且注定只能得到比人类更低等的幸福。几乎人人都深信，人类在另一个世界会得到无尽的幸福，虽然他们总是为伤病感到遗憾，但他们从不哀悼死亡——除非死者显然非常不安和不愿意离开人世。他们认为这是非常不详之兆。似乎暗示着这个人的灵魂意识到了自己的罪恶，且因预感到即将到来的惩罚而沮丧——所以对死亡感到恐惧。此外，他们认为如果一个人不是欣然从命听从上帝的召唤，而是极不情愿地被迫来到上帝面前，上帝未必会乐意见到他。所以，他们害怕见到这样的死亡，并在悲伤中默默地举行葬礼。他们只是说“愿上帝宽恕他的灵魂，原谅他的软弱”，然后他们就埋葬他的尸体。

但是当有人在高高兴兴而又乐观的气氛中死去，没有人会为他哀悼。他们在他的葬礼上欢快地歌唱，并满怀爱意地将他的灵魂交托给上帝。最后，更多的是怀着敬意而不是悲伤，他们将尸体火化，并在死者的坟前立碑，在碑上刻上墓志铭。然后他们回到家后，讲述死者的品质和事迹，但他们最乐于谈论的还是他临死前的怡然从容的精神状态。他们认为，以这种方式纪念死者良好品行，不仅是鼓励生者效仿其美德的最好的方法，也是死者最乐于接受的敬意——因为人们谈论死者时，死者就与他们同在，虽然肉眼看不见他。毕竟，享受天堂之乐的灵魂意味着拥有绝对的行动自由，且任何有感情的人都不会不想在死后回来看望他的好友，如果他在生前与他们有过真挚的友谊。反之，乌托邦人认为一个善良的人友爱的能力犹如他身上其他美好的品质一样，在死后不会消失反而会增强。所以，乌托邦人认为死者会自由自在地存在于生者当中，目睹生者的一言一行。其实乌托邦人几乎认为死者是守护天使，这使得他们在处理问题时更具信心而且，由于觉得他们的祖先在身边，他们也就不敢私下做任何亏心事。

他们不关心预兆、占卜，或在其他国家相当盛行的任何迷信活动。事实上他们把这些迷信当笑话看待。但他们非常崇拜那些不是由自然原因引起的奇迹，因为他们将这些奇迹看作上帝显灵和能力的证明。他们说乌托邦常有这样的奇迹发生。甚至，在危急关头，举国上下都会祈求发生奇迹，且他们的信念如此强烈，有时还真有求必应。

大部分乌托邦人觉得通过研究自然世界，赞美上帝的杰作，就能够取悦上帝。但一大部分人由于宗教的引导，他们并不追求知识。他们对科学不感兴趣——他们只是没有工夫去研究这些事，因为他们认为要在死后获得幸福就必须用一辈子去行善。他们有的照顾老弱病残，而其他人有的修路有的清理沟渠，有的改造桥梁，有的挖除杂草砂石，有的砍树劈柴，或者将柴粮等物资运送到城镇去。总之，他们做事像仆人一样卖力，且工作比奴隶还要更加辛苦，不仅为公家干活是这样，给私人干活也是这样。他们欣然接受所有粗活脏活和各种苦差事，一般人对这些活都避之不及，或者觉得过于劳累，或者因为厌恶这些工作，或者觉得根本无法完成。因此他们不停地劳作，让别人享受清闲——而他们却不以此居功。他们从不贬低别人的生活方式或夸耀自己的生活方式。因此他们越是像奴隶一般劳作，就越受到人们的尊敬。

这类人分为两派，其中一派是独身主义。他们都是绝对的禁欲主义者，不仅戒除性行为，还戒除肉食，且在某些情况下戒除所有的动物性食品。他们放弃所有的生活乐趣，因为他们认为那是有罪的，而只向往来世。为了来世的快乐，他们辛苦流汗，日夜劳作——但这样的来世即将到来的希望使得他们生活得热忱而又积极。另一派人，虽然同样热衷于辛勤劳作，但他们赞成婚姻，因为他们不轻视婚姻带来的安乐。且他们认为生殖繁育是对自然也是对国家应尽的责任。他们不反对享乐，只要不影响工作就行。在这一原则上，他们大量的吃肉，因为他们认为吃肉能使他们更有力气干辛苦的工作。乌托邦人认为这类人更加睿智，而另一类人则更加虔诚。当然，如果第一派人以理性为由为他们的行为辩护，他们只会遭到嘲笑。但既然他们承认他们是出于宗教的动机而不是理性使然，乌托邦人则会对他们充满敬意——因为乌托邦人总是小心翼翼，从不在宗教问题上妄下论断。这一派人在他们的语言中被称为考帕森，可粗略译为笃信宗教的世俗同胞。

乌托邦人的教士都是极其虔诚的，这意味着他们中只有极少数的人——通常每个城镇13个，或每个教会1个。但在战时，这13名教士中的7名要随军出征，而由另外7名教士暂时代替他们的职位。出征的牧师回来后，就恢复了原来职位，而临时教士就任主教的侍从——因为原来13名教士中就有1名任这一职务——直到原任在职主教身故他们才能一个一个的继任空缺职位。

教士是由全民选举出来的。就像所有的公职一样，选举采取无记名投票的形式，以防结党营私，选举胜出的候选人会由他的同僚授予圣职。教士的职责是主持教会事务、组织宗教活动、监察社会道德。被教会法庭传唤或因行为恶劣被教士训斥被看做是奇耻大辱。当然，对罪行真正的镇压和惩罚是市长和其他政府机构的职责。教士只是进行劝诫和警告——虽然他们可以将屡犯开除教籍，几乎没有什么惩罚比这让人害怕。你瞧，被开除教籍的人不仅颜面尽失，内心也会受到害怕圣神复仇的折磨。他的人身安全也会受到威胁因为除非他能尽快使教士相信他已经悔改，否则将以不虔诚的罪名被议会逮捕并受到惩罚。

教士还负责教育儿童和青少年，这种教育不仅注重知识的培养，同样也注重道德的培养。他们尽量确保在孩子易受影响的阶段向他们传输正确的观点——这种观点最有利于维护他们的社会结构。如果这些观念能够在儿童时期被完全接受，那么这些观念将会伴随他们一生，从而极大地促进社会安定，没有什么比错误的观点引发的道德缺陷更加严重威胁社会安定。

男教士允许结婚——因为没有什么能够阻止女性成为教士，虽然很少有女性当选这个职务，且只有年长的寡妇才有资格。事实上，教士的妻子是全国最优秀的女性，因为没有什么公众人物比教士更受人尊敬。人们如此尊敬教士，以至于即使教士犯了罪，他也可能不会被控告。人们只是将他交由上帝和他自己的良心来裁决，因为，乌托邦人认为，不论教士做了什么，都不应由人类逮捕他，因为他已经将自己献给上帝了。乌托邦人发现这项规则很容易遵守，因为教士人数很少，且都是经过非常慎重才选出来的。毕竟，一个从优秀的候选人当中选拔出来的人，且他所任命的职位也是完全因为他高尚的道德品质，这样的人会突然堕落腐化是不太可能的。即使我们不得不接受这样的可能性——人性是如此的不可预测，极少数毫无实权的人几乎不能对社会构成任何严重危害。他们减少教士的数量，以免由于享有这份荣誉的人数泛滥而降低他们任职的崇高声望——尤其是如他们所说，要物色很多适合这个职位的人并非易事，因为这个职位要求有高尚道德而不是有普通修养就行。

乌托邦教士在国外的声望和在国内一样高。我想从战场上发生的事中能够找到这样的例证和原因。当战争正在进行，教士跪在不远处，身披法衣，伸出双手朝天。他们首先祈求和平，然后祈求在不流血的情况下乌托邦能取得胜利——双方都不流血的情况下。当乌托邦军队占了上风，教士就会立刻赶到战场阻止任何滥杀无辜的行为。如果教士出现在战场，敌军只要向他呼救就能保住性命，如果他能触摸到教士飘扬的法衣，不仅能够保住性命，还能使他的财产也免受战争摧毁。这使得教士在各个国家都赢得了尊重，且获具有真正的威严，他们往往既能够保护本国的士兵又能保护敌国的士兵。有时，当乌托邦士兵全线溃退，而敌军又紧追不舍，要对他们进行屠杀和洗劫时，教士介入就避免一场杀戮，他将战士分离开来，从而得以签署公正的和约。所有的国家，且即使是最野蛮最残暴的民族都将乌托邦的教士视为神圣而不可侵犯的。

乌托邦在每月和每年的第一天和最后一天定为宗教节日——顺便说一下，他们的日历是根据太阳年，划分阴历月在他们的语言中他们将每月的第一天称为多格德，每月的最后一天称为特德斯——换句话说，就是开始的节日和结束的节日。

他们的教堂最令人印象深刻，不仅仅因为它们建得如此美轮美奂，还因为雄伟壮观。你知道，由于教堂并不多，他们必需能够容纳许多人才行。但是，它们光线不足，他们告诉我这并不是建筑失误，而是有意为之。因为教士认为太多的光线会分散人们的注意力，昏暗的光线能够使人集中精力并促进虔诚。乌托邦不止一种宗教，虽然他们的方式各不相同但目标却是一致的，即崇拜神明。因此他们的教堂内没有与各种宗教相冲突的事物。任何独特的宗教仪式都在家中举行而公共场合的礼拜也井然有序，绝不会与各个宗教相抵触。

在这一原则下，他们的教堂中不设神像，因此人人都能根据自己最喜欢的宗教，随意将其想象成他所选择的任何形态。他们也没有对神有什么特殊的称呼。只是称之为密特拉一个人们普遍称呼神明的称谓，不论是什么神。同样，没有什么祈祷文会损害教会中某些人的特殊信仰。

在结束的节日，他们整日斋戒，夜晚他们聚集在教堂感谢神让他们幸运度过这一年或这一个月。第二天，即开始的节日，他们清早聚集在教堂，祈祷在新的一年或新的月份里能幸福繁荣。但是在结束的节日，他们赶赴教堂之前，在家中，妻子会跪在丈夫面前，孩子会跪在父母面前，为自己所有的疏忽和过错忏悔并祈求原谅。这样一来，就能够消除弥漫在家庭中小小的怨恨，这样，人人都能带着绝对纯净的心灵参加祭礼。因为心中带着烦闷参加祭礼被认为是亵渎神明的。所以，任何人如果明显对别人感到愤怒或怨恨，在参加祭礼之前必须和那人言归于好，并使自己不愉快的情绪得到净化，以免立即遭到严厉的惩罚。

他们进入教堂后，男人转向右边，女人转向左边，座位都安排得井然有序，每家每户的男性都坐在他们的父亲前面，而母亲也坐在女子的后面。这样就确保了在家管束子女的家长在公共场合也能监督子女的行为。他们也特别注意，年轻人必须和年长的坐在一起——因为孩子们待在一起定会嬉戏打闹，但这时应该是他们对神敬畏的时刻，即使不是唯一的时机，也是激发他们良好德行的最佳时机。

他们从不宰杀动物来献祭，因为他们认为，仁慈的上帝不会喜欢看到杀戮和流血的。他们说上帝给了万物生命，是因为上帝有好生之德。但他们供奉一些烧祭品——焚香或其他芳香物品，并点燃许多蜡烛。他们当然很清楚，神并不需要这些香烛，但他们认为这种献祭方式并无害处，且他们觉得这些芳香和烛光以及其他仪式能够不可思议地提高人的思想境界，使他们更加虔诚膜拜神明。

人们身着白衣参加圣会，而教士则穿着彩色的法衣，做工细致，设计精美，但是由廉价的布料制作——既不是金线织成，也没有镶嵌宝石，是用各种鸟羽装饰。另一方面，这些法衣作为艺术品的价值远远超过了世界上最值钱的材料。此外，这些羽毛编织成象征着神圣真理的特殊图案，且教士对这些象形文字的意义做详细的解说，因为他们要让人们想起上帝对他们的恩泽，以及他们对上帝和彼此的职责。

身着这样法衣的教士从圣堂出来时，所有人都恭敬地跪在地上，整个教堂鸦雀无声。这种气氛令人敬畏，人们似乎能够感觉到神明显灵。不一会儿，教士指示他们起立。然后他们就伴随着乐器演奏的音乐唱起赞美诗，他们的乐器与我们的大不相同。大部分乐器的旋律比我们的更加悦耳，虽然有些乐器无法与欧洲的乐器相提并论。但是在某一点上，毫无疑问他们远胜过我们。他们所有的音乐，不论是声乐还是乐器，都很好表达出自然的情感。演奏出的音乐都能很好适应现场气氛，无论是祈祷还是庆祝，激动还是平静，悲伤还是愤怒，它们的旋律都能恰如其分地表达出适当的情感。因而能够深深打动听众的心灵，使人们的内心受到极大鼓舞。

仪式以教士和教众一起朗诵祈祷文而结束。祈祷的经文措辞使得一起朗诵的每一个人都能将其应用到自己的身上祈祷经文大致是这样：

神啊，你是我的创造者，我的主宰，是一切美好事物的源泉。感谢神的恩泽，尤其感谢神让我生在世上最幸福的国度，并信仰最虔诚的宗教。如果是我弄错了，如果还有其他更好的宗教或社会制度是神更加赞许的，请求神让我知道，因为我愿意跟随神的引导。但如果我们的制度的确是最好的，我所信仰的宗教也是最虔诚的，那么请让我对它们忠贞不移，并让其他所有人也过和我一样的生活，拥有同样的信仰——除非现存各种不同的信仰时神难以捉摸的意志。请求神让我轻松的离世，向神皈依。我不敢奢求这样的解脱来的早还是晚。但如果是神的旨意，我宁愿以最痛苦的方式解脱以便早日向神皈依，也不愿过最快乐的世俗生活而离神如此遥远。

念完这些祈祷文之后，他们再次跪拜片刻，之后才起身走开用餐。这一天剩余的时间就用于娱乐和军事训练。

好了，我已经力求准确地向你们描述了乌托邦理想国了。在我看来，它不仅是世界上最好的国家，而且是唯一有资格被称为理想国的国度。在别的国家，虽然人们总是谈论公共利益，但所有人关心的都只是个人利益。在乌托邦，不存在私有财产，人们都认真履行公共义务。而这两种情形都合情合理。在其他“共和国”，几乎人人都知道，如果人不为自己打算，他就会活活饿死，无论他的国家是多么繁荣。因此他会将自己的私人利益凌驾于国家利益之上，也就是放在别人的利益之上。但是在乌托邦，一切都是公共所有，只要公共仓库充盈，就没有人会担心缺少什么。人人都能得到公平的分配，因而从来都没有穷人或乞丐。人人都一无所有，但人人又都很富裕——因为有什么财富能比得上愉快、平静的心灵和无忧无虑的生活？不被衣食之忧所困扰，也不被妻子的苦苦哀求所烦扰，不怕儿子会贫困，不用为女儿的嫁妆发愁，乌托邦人有绝对的把握，他、他的妻子、他的孩子、他的孙子、他的曾孙、他的玄孙，以及无穷无尽的后代都能过上丰衣足食、幸福无忧的生活。人们另外还想到，那些上了年纪因而丧失劳动能力的人也应受到和劳动者同样的待遇。

现在，有人敢将乌托邦的公平制度和其他国家所谓的公平做个比较吗？——如果我能看到一丝一毫的公正和公平就真是活见鬼了。这算什么公正呢？贵族、金匠或高利贷者要么无所事事，要么做些毫无必要的事，对这种人的懒惰和无益之功却报以豪华奢侈的生活。而像驽马一样不停地辛勤工作的劳动者、车夫、木匠、农场工人，他们从事如此重要的工作，假使他们罢工，用不了一年，任何国家都会停止运转——他们又是什么境遇呢？他们食不果腹，过着悲惨的生活，甚至连牛马都不如。然而，至少牛马还不用工作这么长时间，吃的也还不错，味道也更可口，也不用为未来担心实际上，他们不仅现在不得不一无所获地劳累受苦，也不禁为受贫困潦倒的老年而发愁——因为他们的日薪连一天的开支都无法维持，更谈不上存钱养老了。

在所谓的贵族、金匠这些游手好闲或只会从事奢侈和娱乐之事的人身上浪费大量金钱，而对社会存在和发展不可或缺的农场工人、矿工、劳动者、车夫或木匠却没有这样的待遇这样的社会有何公平和感恩可言？当这些人又老又病，穷困潦倒时，这种忘恩负义简直达到了极点。在利用完他们的大好青春之后，社会却忘记他们不眠不休的服务，对他们所作的重要贡献的回报就是任由他们悲惨死去。不仅如此，富人还要剥削穷人微薄的收入，不仅用私下欺诈的方式，还利用公共法令巧取豪夺。似乎为社会贡献最多的人就理所应当得到最少的回报，他们甚至更加恶劣，还制定法律把不公平冠以公平之名。

事实上，我在细想当今世界上所有盛行的社会制度时我敢断言，我所见到的都是富人在管理社会的名义下牟取私利的阴谋。他们想出各种诡计和托词，首先是保存自己的不义之财，然后就用最廉价的工钱榨取穷人的劳动。一旦富人决定这些诡计和托词应该正式得到社会的认可——包括穷人和富人——这些诡计和托词就成了法律。因此，一些少数不择手段的人在贪得无厌的欲望的驱使下将本足以满足整个社会需求的物资占为己有。而这些人又能比乌托邦人幸福多少呢？在那里，随着金钱和对钱的欲望同时消失，解决了多少社会问题，又根除了多少罪恶啊！因为，显然金钱终结意味着每日的惩罚都无法阻止的所有罪行的终结：欺诈、偷盗、抢劫、争吵、暴乱、骚乱、叛乱、凶杀、谋反，以及巫术。且随着金钱的消亡，人们的恐惧、不安、焦虑、劳累过度，以及不眠之夜都会随之消失。咳，甚至连贫困，这个似乎只有金钱才能解决的问题，也会立即随金钱的终止而消失。

让我把这一点解释得更清楚一些。回想收成最差的一年，成千上万的人死于饥荒。那么，我敢打赌如果你在歉收的年末调查所有富人的谷仓，你会发现那里有足够挽救所有因营养不良或疾病而失去的生命的粮食，也能防止人们受天气和土壤影响而受罪。如果不是金钱这个该死的东西，人人都能丰衣足食。这个伟大的发明本来是为了使我们更容易获得食物，但实际上恰恰是金钱妨碍了食物的获得。

我敢肯定，连富人也一定意识到了这一点，也认识到与其占有太多，不如知足常乐——与其被巨大的财富所包围，不如一起从危险地带撤退。同样毫无疑问，不管是自身利益，还是救世主基督的威严——基督是如此明智，他知道什么是对我们最有利的，基督又是如此仁慈，任何事情他都会劝诫我们——如果不是因为狂妄这个万恶之源，基督早就应该引导全世界采用乌托邦的制度了。因为狂妄衡量成功的标准不是自己得到了什么，而是其他人得不到什么。狂妄甚至不愿意踏入天堂，如果她觉得天堂没有可以任她凌辱和使唤的可怜虫——如果没有谁的痛苦能够衬托她的幸福，或如果炫耀她的财富不能使别人的贫困更难以忍受。狂妄，就像凶恶的毒蛇盘绕在人们心头——或者，我们可以说，犹如一条紧拽着国家这艘船的大鱼？——它总是把我们往后拽，阻碍我们向更美好的生活进发。

但由于这样的错误在人性中已经扎根太深，所以不易根除，我很高兴看到至少有一个国家致力于建立我希望全世界都能够采取的制度。乌托邦的生活方式不仅为文明社会奠定了幸福的基础，而且很有可能能够永远持续下去。他们消除了野心、政治冲突和其他类似罪恶的根源。所以没有发生内部纠纷的危险，这曾经摧毁了许多无法征服的城市。只要国内团结一致并管理健全，不论邻国国王多么嫉妒，他们也无法动摇或破坏乌托邦政权。他们过去曾多次来犯，但终究都败退了。

拉裴尔在为我们讲述这一切时，我心中不断产生许多异议。这个国家的法律和风俗，在许多情况下对我来说都荒谬至极。更何况他们的军事战术、宗教和礼拜仪式，他们整个社会的基础即没有资金流通的共产主义，尤为荒谬。单凭这一点就意味着高贵的终结，进而是尊严、显赫以及权威尽失这些都是任何国家真正引以为荣的。

然而，我看得出拉裴尔说了这么多已经累了，而我也不是很确定他是否能容忍任何反对意见——尤其是我记得他曾经讽刺过那些如果不对他人的观点吹毛求疵就生怕被人当做傻瓜的人。所以我很客气地评价了乌托邦的制度，并感谢了他拉裴尔有趣的谈话——之后我挽着他的胳膊带他一起去晚餐，我告诉他：

“好的，我会好好考虑这个问题，或许以后我们还能再见到时候还能进行更深入的探讨。”

我当然希望有朝一日这能够实现。同时，虽然他具有渊博的学识且见多识广，但我不能同意他所说的一切。但我坦率地承认，乌托邦共和国的许多特征——我希望欧洲也能采用——可是我很难指望这能够实现。

Thomas More

Utopia

TRANSLATED BY PAUL TURNER

PENGUIN BOOKS—GREAT IDEAS

Contents

More's Letter to Peter Gilles

Gilles's Letter to Busleiden

Book One

Book Two

返回分册总目录

More's Letter to Peter Gilles

My dear Peter Gilles,

I feel almost ashamed to send you this little book about the Utopian Republic, for I've kept you waiting for nearly a year, and you doubtless expected to get it within six weeks. You knew that in this work I didn't have the problem of finding my own subject-matter and puzzling out a suitable form—all I had to do was repeat what Raphael told us. There was no need to bother very much about the wording, since his style wasn't particularly polished—the whole thing was improvised on the spur of the moment, and, as you know, his Latin isn't quite as good as his Greek. So the closer I could get to his simple, off-hand way of expressing himself, the closer I'd be to the truth, which in this case is all I'm worrying about, and all I ought to worry about.

Yes, Peter, I know. So much of it was ready made, that there was practically nothing left for me to do. Mind you, in any other circumstances the creation and organization of a thing like this would have demanded a good deal of time and thought—even from a reasonably intelligent and cultivated person. And if the style had had to be graceful as well as accurate, no amount of time and thought would have enabled me to do it. As it was, I was relieved of all such headaches. My job was simply to write down what I'd heard, which was really perfectly easy—but my other commitments have left me less than no time to get this perfectly easy job done. I've been kept hard at work in the law courts, either at the Bar or on the Bench, either in civil or in criminal cases. Then there's always someone that has to be visited, either on business, or as a matter of courtesy. I'm out practically all day, dealing with other people—the rest of the day I spend with my family—so there's no time left for me, that is, for my writing.

You see, when I come home, I've got to talk to my wife, have a chat with my children, and discuss things with my servants. I count this as one of my commitments, because it's absolutely necessary, if I'm not to be a stranger in my own home. Besides, one should always try to be nice to the people one lives with, whether one has chosen their company deliberately, or merely been thrown into it by chance or family-relationship—that is, as nice as one can without spoiling them, or turning servants into masters.

Thus the days, the months, the years slip by. You may ask, when do I write then? Well, so far I haven't mentioned sleep, or meals—which many people allow to consume as much time as sleep itself—and in fact the only time I ever get to myself is what I steal from sleep and meals. There isn't very much of it, so my progress has been slow—but there has at least been some, so I've finally finished Utopia, and I'm sending it to you, my dear Peter, in the hope that you will read it, and tell me if I've left anything out. I feel fairly confident on that score—for I only wish my scholarship and intelligence were up to the standard of my memory—but not quite confident enough to assume that nothing could have slipped my mind.

As you know, my young assistant, John Clement, was with us at the time. I never let him miss any conversation that might have some educational value, for he has already begun to show such promise in Latin and Greek that I expect great things of him one day. Well, he has made me feel very doubtful about one point. As far as I can recall, Raphael told us that the bridge across the river Nowater at Aircastle was five hundred yards long, but John wants me to reduce this number by two hundred, for he says the river wasn't more than three hundred yards wide at that point. Will you please search your memory for the correct figure? If you agree with him, I'll take your word for it, and assume that I've made a mistake. But if you've completely forgotten, I'll let my figure stand, for that's how I seem to remember it. You see, I'm extremely anxious to get my facts right, and, when in doubt, any lies that I tell will be quite unintentional, for I'd much rather be thought honest than clever.

However, the simplest solution would be for you to ask Raphael himself, either by word of mouth or by letter—in fact you must do that anyway, because of another little problem which has cropped up. I don't know whose fault it was, mine, yours, or Raphael's, but we never thought of asking, and he never thought of telling us whereabouts in the New World Utopia is. I'd gladly give what little money I possess to repair the omission. For one thing, it makes me feel rather a fool, after all I've written about the island, not to know what sea it's in. For another, there are one or two people in England who want to go there. In particular, there's a very pious theologian, who's desperately keen to visit Utopia, not in a spirit of idle curiosity, but so that he can foster the growth of Christianity, now that it's been successfully introduced into that country. As he wishes to do it officially, he has decided to get himself sent out there by the Pope, and actually created Bishop of Utopia. He's not deterred by any scruples about begging for preferment. He thinks that sort of thing is perfectly all right if it's done, not for the sake of profit or prestige, but purely out of zeal.

So, Peter, will you please arrange to see Raphael, if you conveniently can, or else write to him, and make sure that my work contains the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Perhaps it would be best for you to show him the book itself, for he's the person best qualified to correct any mistakes, and he can't very well do so, unless he reads the thing right through. Besides, in that way you'll be able to find out how he reacts to the idea of my writing up the results of his researches. For if he's planning to write them up himself, he'd probably rather I didn't—and I certainly shouldn't want to give Utopia premature publicity, so that his story lost the charm of novelty.

To tell you the truth, though, I still haven't made up my mind whether I shall publish it at all. Tastes differ so widely, and some people are so humourless, so uncharitable, and so absurdly wrong-headed, that one would probably do far better to relax and enjoy life than worry oneself to death trying to instruct or entertain a public which will only despise one's efforts, or at least feel no gratitude for them. Most readers know nothing about literature—many regard it with contempt. Lowbrows find everything heavy going that isn't completely lowbrow. Highbrows reject everything as vulgar that isn't a mass of archaisms. Some only like the classics, others only their own works. Some are so grimly serious that they disapprove of all humour, others so half-witted that they can't stand wit. Some are so literal-minded that the slightest hint of irony affects them as water affects a sufferer from hydrophobia. Others come to different conclusions every time they stand up or sit down. Then there's the alcoholic school of critics, who sit in public houses, pronouncing ex cathedra verdicts of condemnation, just as they think fit. They seize upon your publications, as a wrestler seizes upon his opponent's hair, and use them to drag you down, while they themselves remain quite invulnerable, because their barren pates are completely bald—so there's nothing for you to get hold of.

Besides, some readers are so ungrateful that, even if they enjoy a book immensely, they don't feel any affection for the author. They're like rude guests who after a splendid dinner-party go home stuffed with food, without saying a word of thanks to their host. So much for the wisdom of preparing a feast of reason at one's own expense for a public with such fastidious and unpredictable tastes, and with such a profound sense of gratitude!

But do, as I say, get in touch with Raphael. I can think about the other question later—though really it's too late to start being sensible now, when I've gone to all the trouble of writing the book. So if he has no objection, whether I publish it or not will depend on what my friends, and especially what you advise.

Best wishes, my dearest Peter Gilles, to you and your charming wife. And please go on liking me as much as ever—because I like you even more than ever.

Yours sincerely,

THOMAS MORE

Gilles's Letter to Busleiden

Antwerp

1 November 1516

My dear Busleiden,

The other day a great friend of yours, Thomas More —who is, I'm sure you'll agree, one of the glories of our age—sent me the enclosed account of Utopia. At present very few people know about this island, but everyone should want to, for it's like Plato's Republic, only better —especially as it's described by such a talented author. He sets it all so vividly before one's eyes that by reading his words I seem to get an even clearer picture of it than I did while Raphael Nonsenso's voice was actually sounding in my ears—for I was with More when the conversation took place. And yet Raphael spoke extraordinarily well. He obviously wasn't retailing somebody else's story, but describing his own experiences in a place where he'd lived for quite a long time. Personally, I think he must have seen even more of the world than Ulysses, and I doubt if there has been anyone like him for at least eight hundred years. He made us feel that Vespucci had seen absolutely nothing!

The man also appeared to have a special talent for exposition—though I suppose we can always describe what we've seen more effectively than what we've heard. But when I consider More's quasi-pictorial treatment of the same theme, I sometimes get the impression that I'm actually living in Utopia. In fact, I honestly believe there's more to be seen in his account of the island than Raphael himself can have seen during all those five years that he spent there. One comes across so many wonderful things on every page, that I hardly know what to admire first or most—the remarkable accuracy of his memory, which could reproduce an immensely long speech practically word for word—his cleverness in immediately grasping the actual and potential causes, hitherto largely unknown, of every social evil—or the force and fluency of his style, his ability to deal with such a variety of topics in such correct and muscular Latin—especially as he's distracted by so many official and domestic responsibilities. But all this will seem less surprising to a fine scholar like you. Besides, you already know him intimately, and are quite familiar with the prodigious, if not positively superhuman power of his intellect.

I can't think of anything to add to what he has written—except that I've attached four lines of verse in the Utopian language, which Nonsenso happened to show me after More had gone, together with the Utopian alphabet. I've also added a few marginal notes. By the way, More's a bit worried because he doesn't know the exact position of the island. As a matter of fact Raphael did mention it, but only very briefly and incidentally, as though he meant to return to the question later—and, for some unknown reason, we were both fated to miss it. You see, just as Raphael was touching on the subject, a servant came up to More and whispered something in his ear. And although this made me listen with even greater attention, at the critical moment one of his colleagues started coughing rather loudly—I suppose he'd caught cold on the boat—so that the rest of Raphael's sentence was completely inaudible. However, I shan't rest until I've cleared up that point too, and can tell you exactly where the island is, latitude and all. That is, if our friend Raphael is still safe and sound, for I've heard several different stories about him. Some people say that he has died somewhere on his travels. Others that he has gone back to his own country. Others again that he has returned to Utopia, partly because he felt nostalgic about it, and partly because he couldn't stand the way Europeans behaved.

You may wonder why no reference to Utopia appears in any geographical work, but this problem has been very neatly solved by Raphael himself. He says it's quite possible that the ancients knew of the island under another name, or else that they never heard of it at all—for nowadays countries are always being discovered which were never mentioned in the old geography books. However, I need no arguments to prove my point, when I can appeal to the authority of a man like More.

I understand and respect the modesty that makes him hesitate to publish. Personally, though, I think it's the sort of work that should on no account be suppressed for long, but should be put into circulation as quickly as possible, preferably with a letter from you to recommend it to the world—because you have a special insight into More's genius, and who could be better qualified to introduce sound ideas to the public than one who has spent many years in the public service and earned the highest praise for his wisdom and integrity?

With all good wishes to a great patron of scholarship, who is also among the glories of this age,

Yours sincerely,

PETER GILLES

Book One

There was recently a rather serious difference of opinion between that great expert in the art of government, His Invincible Majesty, King Henry the Eighth of England, and His Serene Highness, Prince Charles of Castile. His Majesty sent me to Flanders to discuss and settle the matter, along with my friend Cuthbert Tunstall, an excellent person who has since been appointed Master of the Rolls, much to everyone's satisfaction. Of his learning and moral character I shall say nothing—not because I am afraid of seeming prejudiced in his favour, but because they are too remarkable for me to describe adequately, and too well known to need describing at all. I have no wish to labour the obvious.

We were met at Bruges, as previously arranged, by the envoys from Castile, who were all men of great distinction. Their nominal leader was the Mayor of Bruges, and a splendid fellow he was; but most of the thinking and talking was done by the Provost of Cassel, George de Theimsecke. This man was a born speaker, as well as a highly trained one. He was also a legal expert, and both by temperament and by long experience a first-rate negotiator. After one or two meetings there were still some points on which we had failed to agree, so they said goodbye to us for a few days and set off for Brussels, to consult their royal oracle. In the meantime I went to Antwerp on business of my own.

While I was there, I had several frequent visitors, but the one I liked best was a young native of Antwerp called Peter Gilles. He is much respected by his own people, and holds an important post in that town; but he fully deserves promotion to the highest post of all, for I do not know which impressed me more, his intellectual or his moral qualities. Certainly he is a very fine person, as well as a very fine scholar. He is scrupulously fair to everyone, but towards his friends he shows so much genuine kindness, loyalty, and affection, that he must be almost unique in his all-round capacity for friendship. He is unusually modest, utterly sincere, and has a shrewd simplicity all his own. He is also a delightful talker, who can be witty without hurting anyone's feelings. I was longing to get back to England and see my wife and children, as I had been away for over four months; but my homesickness was to large extent relieved by the pleasure of his company and the charm of his conversation.

One day I had been to a service at the Cathedral of Notre Dame, a magnificent building which is always packed with people. I was just starting back to my hotel when I happened to see Peter Gilles talking to an elderly foreigner with a sunburnt face, a long beard, and a cloak slung carelessly over one shoulder. From his complexion and costume I judged him to be a sailor. At this point Peter caught sight of me. He immediately came up and said good morning, then before I had time to reply, drew me a little further away.

'Do you see that man over there?' he asked, indicating the one he had been talking to. 'I was just bringing him along to visit you.'

'If he's a friend of yours,' I said, 'I'll be very glad to see him.'

'When you hear the sort of person he is,' said Peter, 'you'll be glad to see him anyway—for there's not a man alive today who can tell you so many stories about strange countries and their inhabitants as he can. I know what a passion you have for that kind of thing.'

'Then I didn't guess too far wrong,' I remarked. 'The moment I saw him, I thought he must be a sailor.'

'In that case you made a big mistake,' he replied. 'I mean, he's not a sailor of the Palinurus type. He's really more like Ulysses, or even Plato. You see, our friend Raphael—for that's his name, Raphael Nonsenso—is quite a scholar. He knows a fair amount of Latin and a tremendous lot of Greek. He's concentrated on Greek, because he's mainly interested in philosophy, and he found that there's nothing important on that subject written in Latin, apart from some bits of Seneca and Cicero. He wanted to see the world, so he left his brothers to manage his property in Portugal—that's where he comes from—and joined up with Amerigo Vespucci. You know those Four Voyages of his that everyone's reading about? Well, Raphael was his constant companion during the last three, except that he didn't come back with him from the final voyage. Instead, he practically forced Amerigo to let him be one of the twenty-four men who were left behind in that fort. So he stayed out there, to indulge his taste for travel, which was all he really cared about. He didn't mind where he eventually died, for he had two favourite quotations, "The unburied dead are covered by the sky" and "You can get to heaven from anywhere"—an attitude which, but for the grace of God, might have led to serious trouble. Anyway, when Vespucci had gone, Raphael did a lot of exploring with five other members of the garrison. Finally, by an amazing stroke of luck, they turned up in Ceylon. From there he made his way to Calicut, where he was fortunate enough to find some Portuguese ships, and so, quite unexpectedly, got a passage home.'

'Well, thank you very much,' I said. 'I'll certainly enjoy talking to a man like that. It's most kind of you to give me a chance of doing so.'

I then walked up to Raphael and shook hands with him. After making a few stock remarks, as people generally do when first introduced, we adjourned to the garden of my hotel, where we sat down on a bench covered with a layer of turf, and began to talk more freely.

First of all Raphael told us what happened to him and the other men in the fort, from the point where Vespucci left them. By polite and friendly behaviour they gradually started ingratiating themselves with the local inhabitants. Soon relations were not merely peaceful but positively affectionate. They got on particularly well with a certain king, whose name and nationality have slipped my memory. He most generously provided Raphael and his five fellow-explorers with food and money for their journeys, which involved the use of boats as well as carriages. He also supplied a most reliable guide, who was told to put them in touch with various other kings, to whom they were given letters of introduction. Thus after travelling for many days they came to some large towns and densely populated areas, with quite a high standard of political organization.

Apparently, at the equator, and throughout most of the torrid zone, you find vast deserts parched by perpetual heat. Everything looks grim and desolate. There are no signs of cultivation, and no animal life, except for snakes and wild beasts, or equally wild and dangerous human beings. But, if you go on a bit further, things gradually improve. The climate becomes less extreme, the earth grows green and pleasant, human beings and animals are not so fierce. Finally, you come to people living in towns and cities, who are constantly engaged in trade, both by land and by sea, not only with one another or with their immediate neighbours, but even with quite distant countries.

'This gave me the chance,' said Raphael, 'of travelling about all over the place, for whenever I found a ship just setting sail I asked if my friends and I might go on board, and they were always glad to let us. The first ships we saw were flat-bottomed, with sails made of papyrus leaves stitched together, or else of wicker-work, or in some cases of leather. But the ones we came across later had sharp keels and canvas sails, and were generally just like ours. The sailors out there have a good knowledge of winds and tides, but I made myself extraordinarily popular with them by explaining the use of the magnetic compass. They'd never heard of it before, and for that reason had always been rather frightened of the sea, and seldom risked going on it except during the summer. But now they put such faith in their compasses that they think nothing of winter voyages—although this new sense of security is purely subjective. In fact their overconfidence threatens to convert an apparently useful invention into a source of disaster.'

It would take too long to repeat everything he told us about each place. Besides, that is not the purpose of this book. I may conceivably do so in another one, emphasizing the most instructive parts of his story, such as the sensible arrangements that he noticed in various civilized communities. These were the points on which we questioned him most closely, and he enlarged most willingly. We did not ask him if he had seen any monsters, for monsters have ceased to be news. There is never any shortage of horrible creatures who prey on human beings, snatch away their food, or devour whole populations; but examples of wise social planning are not so easy to find.

Of course, he saw much to condemn in the New World, but he also discovered several regulations which suggested possible methods of reforming European society. These, I say, will have to be dealt with later. My present plan is merely to repeat what he said about the laws and customs of Utopia.

I must start by recording the conversation which led up to the first mention of that republic. After shrewdly pointing out the mistakes that have been made on both sides of the globe—and there are certainly plenty of them—Raphael went on to discuss the more sensible features of Old and New World legislation. He seemed to have the facts about every single country at his fingertips—as though he had spent a lifetime wherever he had stopped for a night. Peter Gilles was particularly impressed.

PETER: My dear Raphael, I can't think why you don't enter the service of some king or other. I'm sure any king would jump at the chance of employing you. With your knowledge and experience, you'd be just the man to supply not only entertainment, but also instructive precedents and useful advice. At the same time you could be looking after your own interests, and being a great help to all your friends and relations.

RAPHAEL: I'm not really worried about them. I feel I've done my duty by them already. Most people hang on to their property until they're too old and ill to do so any longer—and even then they relinquish it with a very ill grace. But I shared out mine among my friends and relations when I was still young and healthy. I think they should be satisfied with that. They can hardly expect me to go a stage further, and become a king's slave for their benefit.

PETER: God forbid! Service, not servitude, was what I suggested.

RAPHAEL: A few letters don't make all that difference.

PETER: Well, call it what you like, I still think it's your best method of helping other people, both individually and collectively, and also of making life pleasanter for yourself.

RAPHAEL: How can I do that by acting against all my instincts? At present I live exactly as I please, which is more, I suspect, than the vast majority of court officials can say. Besides, kings have quite enough people competing for their friendship already. It won't be any serious hardship for them to do without me, and a handful of others like me.

MORE: My dear Raphael, you're obviously not interested in money or power, and I couldn't respect you more if you were the greatest king on earth. But surely it would be quite in keeping with this admirably philosophical attitude if you could bring yourself, even at the cost of some personal inconvenience, to apply your talents and energies to public affairs? Now the most effective way of doing so would be to gain the confidence of some great king or other, and give him, as I know you would, really good advice. For every king is a sort of fountain, from which a constant shower of benefits or injuries rains down upon the whole population. And you've got so much theoretical knowledge, and so much practical experience, that either of them alone would be enough to make you an ideal member of any privy council.

RAPHAEL: You're quite mistaken, my dear More, first about me and then about the job itself. I'm not so highly qualified as you seem to think, and, even if I were, I still shouldn't do the slightest good to the community by giving myself a lot of extra work. To start with, most kings are more interested in the science of war—which I don't know anything about, and don't want to—than in useful peacetime techniques. They're far more anxious, by hook or by crook, to acquire new kingdoms than to govern their existing ones properly. Besides, privy councillors are either too wise to need, or too conceited to take advice from anyone else—though of course they're always prepared to suck up to the king's special favourites by agreeing with the silliest things they say. After all, it's a natural instinct to be charmed by one's own productions. That's why raven chicks are such a delight to their parents, and mother apes find their babies exquisitely beautiful.

So there you have a group of people who are deeply prejudiced against everyone else's ideas, or at any rate prefer their own. Suppose, in such company, you suggest a policy that you've seen adopted elsewhere, or for which you can quote a historical precedent, what will happen? They'll behave as though their professional reputations were at stake, and they'd look fools for the rest of their lives if they couldn't raise some objection to your proposal. Failing all else, their last resort will be: 'This was good enough for our ancestors, and who are we to question their wisdom?' Then they'll settle back in their chairs, with an air of having said the last word on the subject—as if it would be a major disaster for anyone to be caught being wiser than his ancestors! And yet we're quite prepared to reverse their most sensible decisions. It's only the less intelligent ones that we cling on to like grim death. I've come across this curious mixture of conceit, stupidity, and stubbornness in several different places. On one occasion I even met it in England.

MORE: Really? Have you been to my country too, then?

RAPHAEL: Certainly I have. I was there for several months, soon after that disastrous civil war which began with a revolution in the west country, and ended with a ghastly massacre of the rebels. During my stay, I received a lot of kindness from the Most Reverend John Morton, the Archbishop of Canterbury. He was also a Cardinal, and at that time Lord Chancellor of England. I must tell you about him, Peter—for I can't tell More anything he doesn't know already. He was a person that one respected just as much for his wisdom and moral character as for his great eminence. He was of average height, without a trace of a stoop, although he was fairly old. He had the sort of face that inspires reverence rather than fear. He was quite easy to get on with, though always serious and dignified. Admittedly he was rather inclined to be rude to people who asked him for jobs, but he meant no harm by it. He only did it to test their intelligence and presence of mind, for he found these qualities very congenial, so long as they were used with discretion, and considered them most valuable in public life. He was a polished and effective speaker, with a thorough knowledge of the law. He also had a quite remarkable intellect, and a phenomenal memory—two natural gifts which he'd further developed by training and practice.

Apparently the King had great confidence in his judgement, and at the time of my visit the whole country seemed to depend on him. This was hardly surprising, since he'd been rushed straight from the university to Court, when he was not much more than a boy, and had spent the rest of his life in the public service, learning wisdom the hard way, by having to cope with a long series of crises. And what one learns like that isn't easily forgotten.

I once happened to be dining with the Cardinal when a certain English lawyer was there. I forgot how the subject came up, but he was speaking with great enthusiasm about the stern measures that were then being taken against thieves.

'We're hanging them all over the place,' he said, 'I've seen as many as twenty on a single gallows. And that's what I find so odd. Considering how few of them get away with it, why are we still plagued with so many robbers?'

'What's odd about it?' I asked—for I never hesitated to speak freely in front of the Cardinal. 'This method of dealing with thieves is both unjust and socially undesirable. As a punishment it's too severe, and as a deterrent it's quite ineffective. Petty larceny isn't bad enough to deserve the death penalty, and no penalty on earth will stop people from stealing, if it's their only way of getting food. In this respect you English, like most other nations, remind me of incompetent schoolmasters, who prefer caning their pupils to teaching them. Instead of inflicting these horrible punishments, it would be far more to the point to provide everyone with some means of livelihood, so that nobody's under the frightful necessity of becoming first a thief and then a corpse.'

'There's adequate provision for that already,' replied the lawyer. 'There are plenty of trades open to them. There's always work on the land. They could easily earn an honest living if they wanted to, but they deliberately choose to be criminals.'

'You can't get out of it like that,' I said. 'Let's ignore, for the sake of argument, the case of the disabled soldier, who has lost a limb in the service of King and Country, either at home or abroad—perhaps in that battle with the Cornish rebels, or perhaps during the fighting in France, not so long ago. When he comes home, he finds he's physically incapable of practising his former trade, and too old to learn a new one. But as I say, let's forget about him, since war is only an intermittent phenomenon. Let's stick to the type of thing that happens every day.

'Well, first of all there are lots of noblemen who live like drones on the labour of other people, in other words, of their tenants, and keep bleeding them white by constantly raising their rents. For that's their only idea of practical economy—otherwise they'd soon be ruined by their extravagance. But not content with remaining idle themselves, they take round with them vast numbers of equally idle retainers, who have never been taught any method of earning their living. The moment their master dies, or they themselves fall ill, they're promptly given the sack—for these noblemen are far more sympathetic towards idleness than illness, and their heirs often can't afford to keep up such large establishments. Now a sacked retainer is apt to get violently hungry, if he doesn't resort to violence. For what's the alternative? He can, of course, wander around until his clothes and his body are both worn out, and he's nothing but a mass of rags and sores. But in that state no gentleman will condescend to employ him, and no farmer can risk doing so—for who could be less likely to serve a poor man faithfully, sweating away with mattock and hoe for a beggarly wage and a barely adequate diet, than a man who has been brought up in the lap of luxury, and is used to swaggering about in military uniform, looking down his nose at everyone else in the neighbourhood?'

'But that's exactly the kind of person we need to encourage,' retorted the lawyer. 'In wartime he forms the backbone of the army, simply because he has more spirit and self-respect than an ordinary tradesman or farmhand.'

'You might as well say,' I answered, 'that for purposes of war you have to encourage theft. Well, you'll certainly never run short of thieves, so long as you have people like that about. And, of course, you're perfectly right—thieves do make quite efficient soldiers, and soldiers make quite enterprising thieves. The two professions have a good deal in common. However, the trouble is not confined to England, although you've got it pretty badly. It's practically a world-wide epidemic. France, for instance, is suffering from an even more virulent form of it. There the whole country is overrun even in peacetime—if you can call it that—by mercenaries who have been brought in for much the same reasons as you gave for supporting idle retainers. You see, the experts decided, in the interests of public safety, that they must have a powerful standing army, consisting mostly of veterans—for they put so little faith in raw recruits that they deliberately start wars to give their soldiers practice, and make them cut throats "just to keep their hands in", as Sallust rather nicely puts it.

'So France has learnt by bitter experience how dangerous it is to keep these savage pets, but there are plenty of similar object-lessons in the history of Rome, Carthage, Syria, and many other countries. Again and again standing armies have seized some opportunity of overthrowing the government that employed them, devastating its territory, and destroying its towns. And yet it's quite unnecessary. That's obvious enough from the fact that for all their intensive military training the French can't often claim to have beaten your wartime conscripts—I won't put it more strongly than that, for fear of seeming to flatter present company.

'Besides, it's not generally thought that either of the types you mentioned, the tradesman in town or the ignorant farmhand in the country, is actually so very frightened of the retainers in question—unless his physical strength isn't equal to his courage, or his spirit has been broken by privations at home. The fact is that though these retainers start off with powerful physiques—for no gentleman would stoop to corrupt an inferior specimen—they soon get soft and flabby by sitting around doing nothing, or nothing that a woman couldn't do. So there's really not much risk of their losing all their manhood, if they were taught useful trades and made to work like men. In any case I don't see how it can possibly be in the public interest to prepare for a war, which you needn't have unless you want to, by maintaining innumerable disturbers of the peace—when peace is so infinitely more important.

'But that's not the only thing that compels people to steal. There are other factors at work which must, I think, be peculiar to your country.'

'And what are they?' asked the Cardinal.

'Sheep,' I told him. 'These placid creatures, which used to require so little food, have now apparently developed a raging appetite, and turned into man-eaters. Fields, houses, towns, everything goes down their throats. To put it more plainly, in those parts of the kingdom where the finest, and so the most expensive wool is produced, the nobles and gentlemen, not to mention several saintly abbots, have grown dissatisfied with the income that their predecessors got out of their estates. They're no longer content to lead lazy, comfortable lives, which do no good to society—they must actively do it harm, by enclosing all the land they can for pasture, and leaving none for cultivation. They're even tearing down houses and demolishing whole towns—except, of course, for the churches, which they preserve for use as sheepfolds. As though they didn't waste enough of your soil already on their coverts and game-preserves, these kind souls have started destroying all traces of human habitation, and turning every scrap of farmland into a wilderness.

'So what happens? Each greedy individual preys on his native land like a malignant growth, absorbing field after field, and enclosing thousands of acres with a single fence. Result—hundreds of farmers are evicted. They're either cheated or bullied into giving up their property, or systematically ill-treated until they're finally forced to sell. Whichever way it's done, out the poor creatures have to go, men and women, husbands and wives, widows and orphans, mothers and tiny children, together with all their employees—whose great numbers are not a sign of wealth, but simply of the fact that you can't run a farm without plenty of manpower. Out they have to go from the homes that they know so well, and they can't find anywhere else to live. Their whole stock of furniture wouldn't fetch much of a price, even if they could afford to wait for a suitable offer. But they can't, so they get very little indeed for it. By the time they've been wandering around for a bit, this little is all used up, and then what can they do but steal—and be very properly hanged? Of course, they can always become tramps and beggars, but even then they're liable to be arrested as vagrants, and put in prison for being idle—when nobody will give them a job, however much they want one. For farm-work is what they're used to, and where there's no arable land, there's no farm-work to be done. After all, it only takes one shepherd or cowherd to graze animals over an area that would need any amount of labour to make it fit for corn production.

'For the same reason, corn is much dearer in many districts. The price of wool has also risen so steeply that your poorer weavers simply can't afford to buy it, which means a lot more people thrown out of work. This is partly due to an epidemic of the rot, which destroyed vast numbers of sheep just after the conversion of arable to pasture land began. It almost looked like a judgement on the landowners for their greed—except that they ought to have caught it instead of the sheep.

'Not that prices would fall, however many sheep there were, for the sheep market has become, if not strictly a monopoly—for that implies only one seller—then at least an oligopoly. I mean it's almost entirely under the control of a few rich men, who don't need to sell unless they feel like it, and never do feel like it until they can get the price they want. This also accounts for the equally high prices of other types of livestock, especially in view of the shortage of breeders caused by the demolition of farms, and the general decline of agriculture. For the rich men I'm talking about never bother to breed either sheep or cattle themselves. They merely buy scraggy specimens cheap from someone else, fatten them up on their own pastures, and resell them at a large profit. I imagine that's why the full effects of the situation have not yet been felt. So far they've only inflated prices in the areas where they sell, but, if they keep transferring animals from other districts faster than they can be replaced, stocks in the buying areas too will gradually be depleted, until eventually there'll be an acute shortage everywhere.

'Thus a few greedy people have converted one of England's greatest natural advantages into a national disaster. For it's the high price of food that makes employers turn off so many of their servants—which inevitably means turning them into beggars or thieves. And theft comes easier to a man of spirit.

'To make matters worse, this wretched poverty is most incongruously linked with expensive tastes. Servants, tradesmen, even farm-labourers, in fact all classes of society are recklessly extravagant about clothes and food. Then think how many brothels there are, including those that go under the names of wine-taverns or alehouses. Think of the demoralizing games people play—dice, cards, backgammon, tennis, bowls, quoits—what are they but quick methods of wasting a man's money, and sending him straight off to become a thief?

'Get rid of these pernicious practices. Make a law that anyone responsible for demolishing a farm or a country town must either rebuild it himself or else hand over the land to someone who's willing to do so. Stop the rich from cornering markets and establishing virtual monopolies. Reduce the number of people who are kept doing nothing. Revive agriculture and the wool industry, so that there's plenty of honest, useful work for the great army of unemployed—by which I mean not only existing thieves, but tramps and idle servants who are bound to become thieves eventually. Until you put these things right, you're not entitled to boast of the justice meted out to thieves, for it's a justice more specious than real or socially desirable. You allow these people to be brought up in the worst possible way, and systematically corrupted from their earliest years. Finally, when they grow up and commit the crimes that they were obviously destined to commit, ever since they were children, you start punishing them. In other words, you create thieves, and then punish them for stealing!'

Long before I'd finished, the lawyer was ready with his answer. He was evidently one of those people whose method of argument consists in repeating what you've said, rather than replying to it—as though having a good memory were all that mattered.

'That was a very fine effort,' he said, 'especially for a foreigner whose information is bound to be second-hand, and therefore inaccurate—as I'll very briefly demonstrate. I'll begin by running through the points you've made. Then I'll show where you've gone wrong through your ignorance of local conditions. And finally I'll refute all your arguments. Proceeding in that order, I think you've made four—'

'Just a moment,' interrupted the Cardinal. 'After such an introduction, your reply seems unlikely to be as brief as you suggest. So don't bother to produce it now—keep it fresh for your next meeting. Why not make it tomorrow, if you're both free then? Meanwhile, my dear Raphael, I'd very much like to hear just why you object to capital punishment for theft, and what penalty you think would be more in the public interest. For even you, I take it, feel that stealing should be stopped. And since it goes on merrily in spite of the death penalty, what power on earth could stop it, what possible deterrent could be effective, if the fear of death were removed? Surely any reduction of sentence would be interpreted as a positive invitation to crime?'

'Your Grace,' I said, 'it seems to me quite unjust to take a man's life because he's taken some money. To my mind no amount of property is equivalent to a human life. If it's argued that the punishment is not for taking the money, but for breaking the law and violating justice, isn't this conception of absolute justice absolutely unjust? One really can't approve of a régime so dictatorial that the slightest disobedience is punishable by death, nor of a legal code based on the Stoic paradox that all offences are equal—so that there's no distinction in law between theft and murder, though in equity the two things are so completely different.

'God said, "Thou shalt not kill" —does the theft of a little money make it quite all right for us to do so? If it's said that this commandment applies only to illegal killing, what's to prevent human beings from similarly agreeing among themselves to legalize certain types of rape, adultery, or perjury? Considering that God has forbidden us even to kill ourselves, can we really believe that purely human arrangements for the regulation of mutual slaughter are enough, without any divine authority, to exempt executioners from the sixth commandment? Isn't that rather like saying that this particular commandment has no more validity than human laws allow it?—in which case the principle can be extended indefinitely, until in all spheres of life human beings decide just how far God's commandments may conveniently be observed.

'Under the law of Moses—which was harsh enough in all conscience, being designed for slaves, and rebellious ones at that—thieves were not hanged, but merely fined. We can hardly suppose that the new dispensation, which expresses God's fatherly kindness towards His children, allows us more scope than the old for being cruel to one another.

'Well, those are my objections on moral grounds. From a practical point of view, surely it's obvious that to punish thieves and murderers in precisely the same way is not only absurd but also highly dangerous for the public. If a thief knows that a conviction for murder will get him into no more trouble than a conviction for theft, he's naturally impelled to kill the person that he'd otherwise merely have robbed. It's no worse for him if he's caught, and it gives him a better chance of not being caught, and of concealing the crime altogether by eliminating the only witness. So in our efforts to terrorize thieves we're actually encouraging them to murder innocent people.

'Now for the usual question—what punishment would be better? I'd have found it much harder to answer, if you'd asked me what would be worse. Well, why should we doubt the value of a system which those expert administrators, the Romans, found satisfactory for so long? They, as we know, sentenced people convicted of major crimes to penal servitude for life in mines or stone quarries.

'However, the best arrangement I know is one I came across while travelling through Persia, in a district generally known as Tallstoria. The Tallstorians form quite a large and well-organized community, which is completely autonomous, except for having to pay taxes to the King of Persia. As they're a long way from the sea, practically encircled by mountains, and content to live on the produce of their own soil, which is extremely fertile, they have little contact with foreigners. They've never had any wish to increase their territory, which is secured against external aggression both by the mountains and by the protection-money that they pay to the Great King. This means that they're exempt from military service, so they're able to live in comfort, if not in luxury, and be happy, if not exactly famous or glorious—for, apart from their immediate neighbours, I doubt if anyone has ever heard of them.

'Well, in Tallstoria a convicted thief has to return what he's stolen to its owner, not, as in most other countries, to the King—who according to the Tallstorians has just about as much right to it as the thief himself. If the stolen goods are no longer in his possession, their value is deducted from his own property, the rest of which is handed over intact to his wife and children. He himself is sentenced to hard labour. Except in cases of robbery with violence, he's not put in prison or made to wear fetters, but left quite free and employed on public works. If he downs tools or goes slow, they don't slow him down still more by loading him with chains—they accelerate his movements with a whip. If he works hard, he's not treated at all badly. He has to answer a roll-call every evening, and he's locked up for the night—but otherwise, apart from having to work very long hours, he has a perfectly comfortable life.

'The food, for instance, is quite reasonable. It's provided at the public expense, since convicts work as servants of the public. The procedure for raising the money varies from place to place. In some districts it's collected from voluntary contributions. This sounds an unreliable method, but in practice it brings in more than any other, for the people there are extraordinarily kind-hearted. Elsewhere, certain public revenues are set aside for the purpose, or a special poll-tax is levied. There are also some places where, instead of being employed on public works, convicts are hired out to private enterprise. Anyone needing their services goes to the market-place and engages them by the day, at a rather lower wage than he would pay for free labour. He's also allowed to whip them if they don't work hard enough. This system ensures that they're never out of work, their meals are provided for them, and each convict makes a daily contribution to public funds.

'They all wear clothes of a special colour, which nobody else wears. Their heads aren't actually shaved, but the hair is clipped short just above the ears, and a tiny piece is cut off one of them. Their friends are allowed to give them food and drink, and clothes of the regulation colour, but it's a capital crime for anyone to give them money, or for them to accept it. So it is for free men to accept money on any pretext from slaves—as convicts are usually called—or for slaves to touch any kind of weapon.

'Each slave is given a badge to show which district he belongs to, and it's a capital crime to take one's badge off, to be seen outside one's own district, or to speak to a slave from another district. As for running away, it's just as risky to plan it as to do it. The penalty for being accessory to any such plan is death for a slave, and slavery for a free man—whereas by betraying an escape-project you can earn a reward in cash, if you're a free man, or your freedom, if you're a slave. In either case the informer receives a pardon for his part in the plot, on the principle that it must always be safer to abandon a criminal undertaking than to go ahead with it.

'Well, that's how the system works, and it's obviously most convenient and humane. It comes down heavily on crime, but it saves the lives of criminals, treating them in such a way that they're forced to become good citizens, and spend the rest of their lives making up for the harm they've done in the past.

'In fact there's so little risk of their relapsing into their old habits, that they're generally regarded as the safest possible guides for long-distance travellers, who employ them in relays, one for each district they pass through. You see, slaves have no facilities for highway-robbery. They're not allowed to carry weapons. If money is found on them, it proves that they've committed a crime. If they're caught, punishment is automatic, and they haven't the slightest hope of not being caught—for how can you make an unobtrusive getaway when your clothes are quite different from ordinary people's, unless you decamp in the nude?—and even then your ear will betray you.

'There's still, of course, a theoretical risk that they might start a conspiracy to overthrow the government. But how could the slaves of any one district hope to organize such a large-scale operation, without first sounding and stirring up the slaves in several other districts? And that's physically impossible. They're not even allowed to meet them, or talk to them, or say good morning to them, let alone conspire with them. Besides, can you imagine anyone cheerfully letting the other slaves of his district into a secret which would be so dangerous for them to keep, and so very profitable for them to betray? On the other hand, every slave has some hope of recovering his freedom, simply by doing what he's told and giving the authorities reason to believe that he'll go straight in future—since a certain number of slaves are released every year for good conduct.'

I then added that I didn't see why this system shouldn't be adopted in England. It would produce far better results than the so-called 'justice' that the lawyer had praised so highly.

At this our learned friend—I mean the lawyer—shook his head.

'Such a system,' he announced, with a smile of contempt, 'could never be adopted in England, without serious danger to the country.'

That was all he said—and practically everyone else agreed with him.

Then the Cardinal gave his opinion.

'It's hard to predict,' he said, 'without giving it a trial, whether it would work or not. But suppose the King were to postpone the execution of death sentences for an experimental period—having first abolished all rights of asylum. If the results were good, we'd be justified in making the arrangement permanent. If not, the original sentences could still be carried out, with quite as much benefit to society, and quite as much justice, as if they were carried out now. In the meantime no great harm could have been done. As a matter of fact, I don't think it would be at all a bad idea to treat vagrants in the same way. We're always making laws about them, but so far nothing has had the slightest effect.'

This, from the Cardinal, was enough to make everyone wildly in favour of an idea which nobody had taken seriously when I produced it. They were particularly keen on the bit about vagrants, since that was his own contribution.

Perhaps I ought to leave out the next part of the conversation, which was not wholly serious. But I don't think I shall, because it was perfectly harmless, and had a certain relevance to the point at issue. Among those present was a professional diner-out, who wanted you to think that he was merely acting the fool but played the part almost too convincingly. His efforts to raise a laugh were usually so feeble that one tended to laugh at him rather than with him. But occasionally he'd come out with something rather good, thus restoring one's faith in the proverb, 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again.' Well, somebody gave him his cue by remarking that the Cardinal and I between us had solved the problem of thieves and vagrants, so it only remained to decide on appropriate state action to deal with poor people who were either too old or too ill to earn their living.

'Just leave it to me,' said this gentleman. 'I'll tell you exactly what to do. The fact is, I'm desperately anxious to get that sort of person out of my sight. I've suffered so often from demands for money in that whining sing-song of theirs—a form of music which has never charmed a penny out of me. What always happens is this—either I don't feel like giving them anything, or else I do, but I can't, because I haven't got anything to give. So now they're learning not to waste their energy. When they see me walking past, they just let me walk past, without saying a word. They know I might as well be a priest, for all the help I'll be to them. Well, I propose a law for the compulsory enrolment of beggars in Benedictine monasteries, the males to become lay brethren—that's the technical term for monks—and the females to become nuns.'

The Cardinal smiled, and jokingly agreed. So did all the others, with perfectly straight faces. The only exception was a certain friar, who'd apparently studied theology. Normally a grimly serious type of person, he was so delighted by these digs at priests and monks that he too started trying to be funny.

'Ah, but you won't get rid of beggars quite so easily,' he said. 'What are you going to do about us mendicant friars?'

'Why, that's already taken care of,' replied the wag. 'Don't you remember the Cardinal's splendid regulation for the control and useful employment of tramps?'

Everyone glanced at the Cardinal, to see how he was taking it, and, as he showed no signs of disapproval, the remark was greeted with applause—except by the friar. He, not very surprisingly, reacted to this cold douche of satire by losing his temper and becoming downright abusive. He called the man every rude name he could think of, including a son of Belial, and wound up with some fearful curses out of Holy Scripture.

At this point the clown started clowning in real earnest. He obviously felt in his element.

'My dear friar,' he began, 'you mustn't get so angry. You know what it says in the Bible, "Ye shall possess your souls in patience".'

'I'm not angry, damn you!' shouted the friar—those were his very words. 'Or if I am, I've every right to be. "Be ye angry, and sin not", that's what it says in the Psalms.'

The Cardinal gently suggested that he should try to keep his temper.

'My temper, sir?' he repeated. 'There's nothing wrong with my temper. It's righteous zeal that makes me say these things, the sort of righteous zeal that inspired the saints. Hence the words of the Psalmist, "The zeal of thy house hath eaten me up", or of the hymn that we sing in church:

They who mocked the great Elisha,

As he mounted up to Bethel,

By a baldhead's zeal was punished.

And I dare say this filthy sneering idiot may find the same thing happening to him.'

'I'm sure your feelings do you great credit,' said the Cardinal, 'but I wonder if your behaviour wouldn't be even more saintly—it would certainly be wiser—if you refrained from making a fool of yourself by arguing with a fool.'

'No, sir,' retorted the friar, 'it would not be wiser, for who could be wiser than Solomon? And Solomon says, "Answer a fool according to his folly"—which is precisely what I'm doing. I'm showing him the bottomless pit that he's liable to fall into, if he isn't very careful. In Elisha's case, it was forty-two mockers against only one baldhead, and yet his zeal was enough to punish them. So how much worse it's going to be for this man here—a single mocker against all the friars in Christendom, a very high proportion of whom are bald! Besides, we have a Papal Bull expressly forbidding anyone to mock us, on pain of excommunication.'

Seeing that the thing would go on indefinitely, the Cardinal gave the wit a sign to withdraw, and tactfully changed the subject. A few minutes later he got up and dismissed us, as he had to interview some people who'd applied to him for help.

Well, my dear More, I'm afraid I've subjected you to a very long lecture. Only you really did ask for it—and you listened so attentively that I felt you wouldn't want me to leave anything out. Anyway, the conversation seemed worth repeating, if only in general outline, so as to give you some idea of the way these people think. You see, everything I said was treated with contempt, until it appeared that the Cardinal was not against it—and then they were immediately all for it. In their efforts to flatter him, they were even prepared to applaud, and almost take seriously the suggestions made by a hanger-on of his, simply because the great man laughingly approved of them. So you can guess how much notice people would take of me and my advice at Court!

MORE: My dear Raphael, I enjoyed every word of it. There's so much wit and wisdom in everything you say. Besides, it all carried me back, not merely to England, but in a sense to my own boyhood—it recalled such pleasant memories of the Cardinal, in whose household I was brought up. I liked you from the start, my dear Raphael, but you've no idea how much your warm tribute to his memory has increased my feeling for you. But I still can't help thinking that if you could only overcome your aversion to court life, your advice would be extremely useful to the public. Which means that it's your positive duty, as a good man, to give it. You know what your friend Plato says—that a happy state of society will never be achieved, until philosophers are kings, or kings take to studying philosophy. Well, just think how infinitely remote that happy state must remain, if philosophers won't even condescend to give kings a word of advice!

RAPHAEL: Oh, philosophers aren't as bad as all that. They'd be only too glad to offer advice—in fact many of them have done so already in their published works—if only people in power would listen to them. And that's doubtless what Plato meant. He realized that kings are too deeply infected with wrong ideas in childhood to take any philosopher's advice, unless they become philosophers themselves—as he learned by experience with Dionysius. What do you suppose would happen if I started telling a king to make sensible laws, or trying to expel the deadly germs of bad ones from his mind? I'd be promptly thrown out, or merely treated as a figure of fun.

For instance, just imagine me in France, at a top-secret meeting of the Cabinet. The King himself is in the chair, and round the table sit all his expert advisers, earnestly discussing ways and means of solving the following problems: how can His Majesty keep a grip on Milan, and get Naples back into his clutches? How can he conquer Venice, and complete the subjection of Italy? How can he then establish control over Flanders, Brabant, and finally the whole of Burgundy?—not to mention all the other countries that he has already invaded in his dreams.

One gentleman proposes a pact with the Venetians, to remain in force for just so long as the King shall find convenient. He should take them into his confidence, and even allow them a certain amount of the plunder—he can always demand it back later, when he has got what he wants. Another gentleman recommends the employment of German mercenaries, and a third is in favour of greasing the palms of the Swiss. A fourth advises His Majesty to propitiate the Holy Roman Empire with a sacrifice of gold. A fifth thinks it might be wise for him to improve relations with the King of Aragon, and as a peace-offering hand over the kingdom of Navarre—which doesn't belong to him anyway. Meanwhile a sixth is proposing that the Prince of Castile should be enticed into the French camp by promises of a marriage alliance, and that some of his courtiers should be paid a regular salary for their support.

And now for the knottiest problem of all—what's to be done about the English? Well, obviously the first step is to arrange a peace-conference, and conclude a solemn treaty of alliance which means absolutely nothing. In other words, call them friends, but regard them as potential enemies. The Scotch must therefore be kept standing by, ready to start an invasion at a moment's notice, in case the English make the slightest move. It might also be as well to offer secret encouragement—under the terms of the treaty it can't be done openly—to some exiled English nobleman with pretensions to the throne. This would give His Majesty an extra hold over the King of England, whom he otherwise wouldn't trust an inch.

At this point, while all these mighty forces are being set in motion, and all these worthy gentlemen are producing rival plans of campaign, up gets little Raphael, and proposes a complete reversal of policy. I advise the King to forget about Italy and stay at home. I tell him that France is already almost too big for one man to govern properly, so he really needn't worry about acquiring extra territory.

I then refer to an incident in the history of Nolandia, a country just south-east of Utopia. On the strength of some ancient marriage, the King of Nolandia thought he had a hereditary claim to another kingdom, so his people started a war to get it for him. Eventually they won, only to find that the kingdom in question was quite as much trouble to keep as it had been to acquire. There were constant threats of internal rebellion and external aggression. They were always having to fight either for their new subjects or against them. They never got a chance to demobilize, and in the meantime they were being ruined. All their money was going out of the country, and men were losing their lives to pay for someone else's petty ambition. Conditions at home were no safer than they'd been during the war, which had lowered moral standards, by encouraging people to kill and steal. There was no respect whatever for the law, because the King's attention was divided between the two kingdoms, so that he couldn't concentrate properly on either.

Seeing that this hopeless situation would continue indefinitely, if they didn't do something about it, the Nolandians finally decided on a course of action, which was to ask the King, quite politely, which kingdom he wanted to keep.

'You can't keep them both,' they explained, 'because there are too many of us to be governed by half a king. Why, even if we were a lot of mules, it would be a full-time job looking after us!'

So that exemplary monarch was forced to hand over the new kingdom to a friend of his—who was very soon thrown out—and make do with the old one.

I also remind the French King that even if he does start all these wars and create chaos in all these different countries, he's still quite liable to find in the end that he has ruined himself and destroyed his people for nothing. I therefore advise him to concentrate on the kingdom that his ancestors handed down to him, and make it as beautiful and as prosperous as he can, to love his own subjects and deserve their love, to live among them and govern them kindly, and to give up all ideas of territorial expansion, because he has got more than enough to deal with already.

Now tell me, my dear More, how do you think he'll react to my advice?

MORE: Not terribly well, I must admit.

RAPHAEL: Now let's imagine another situation. Suppose some king's financial advisers are discussing how to increase his capital. One suggests raising the value of the currency when the King has to pay money out, and lowering it abnormally when payments are due to him. This will have the effect of increasing his receipts, and reducing the cost of meeting his liabilities. A second suggests that the King should pretend to start a war. This will give him an excuse for levying extra taxes. Then, at his own convenience, he can solemnly make peace, while posing, for the benefit of the lower orders, as a kind ruler who can't bear the thought of bloodshed. A third reminds him of some moth-eaten old law, which has long been obsolete—which everybody breaks, because nobody's aware of its existence—and urges him to collect the fines so incurred. It will greatly redound to his credit, in a moral as well as a financial sense—for the operation will be carried out under the cloak of justice. A fourth advises him to introduce legislation imposing heavy fines for certain offences, preferably of the most anti-social type. He can then sell exemption from such laws to anyone who finds them inconvenient. This will ensure his popularity with the general public, while providing a double source of revenue—for first he'll get the fines collected from profiteers who fall into his trap, and secondly he'll get the money paid for special dispensations. Of course, the price of these will vary in proportion to the King's moral character. The higher his principles, the more reluctant he'll be to let anyone act against the public interest—so the more a dispensation will cost.

A fifth recommends him to get some hold over the judges, so that they'll always give a verdict in his favour. He should also invite them to the Palace, and consult them about his legal position. He may be quite obviously in the wrong, but one of the judges is sure to discover a loophole which will serve to defeat justice. Whatever motives he may have for doing so—a passion for contradiction, a dislike of the obvious, or a simple wish to please—the result will be the same. Soon every judge will be voicing a different opinion, a perfectly clear case will begin to seem controversial, and the plainest facts will be questioned. This will give the King a splendid chance of interpreting the law to his own advantage. Everyone else will agree, from either fear or politeness, and eventually this interpretation will be boldly pronounced from the Bench. After all, there are so many ways of justifying a verdict for the Crown. One can either appeal to equity, or to the letter of the law; or to some perversion of its meaning, or in the last resort to a principle which carries more weight with conscientious judges than any law on earth—the 'indisputable royal prerogative'.

There's unanimous support for the doctrine of Crassus, that you can never have enough money, if you've got an army to maintain. It's also generally agreed that a King can do no wrong, however much he may want to, because everything belongs to him, including every human being in the country, and private property does not exist, except in so far as he's kind enough not to seize it. He should always reduce such provisional private property to a minimum, since his safety depends on preventing his subjects from having too much wealth or freedom. These things make people less willing to put up with injustice and oppression, whereas poverty and privation make them dull and submissive, and stifle the noble spirit of rebellion.

At this point I get up again, and say that it would be most unwise as well as most immoral for the King to do any of these things, because his prestige and security depend less on his own than on his subjects' wealth.

'Why do you suppose they made you king in the first place?' I ask him. 'Not for your benefit, but for theirs. They meant you to devote your energies to making their lives more comfortable, and protecting them from injustice. So your job is to see that they're all right, not that you are—just as a shepherd's job, strictly speaking, is to feed his sheep, not himself. As for the theory that peace is best preserved by keeping the people poor, it's completely contradicted by the facts. Beggars are far the most quarrelsome section of the community. Who is more likely to start a revolution than a man who's discontented with his present living conditions? Who could have a stronger impulse to turn everything upside down in the hope of personal profit, than a man who'd got nothing to lose?

'No, if a king is so hated or despised by his subjects that he can't keep them in order unless he reduces them to beggary by violence, extortion, and confiscation, he'd far better abdicate. Such methods of staying in power may preserve the title, but they destroy the majesty of a king. There's nothing majestic about ruling a nation of beggars—true majesty consists in governing the rich and prosperous. That's what that admirable character Fabricius meant when he said he'd rather govern rich men than be one. Certainly a man who enjoys a life of luxury while everyone else is moaning and groaning round him can hardly be called a king—he's more like a gaoler.

'In short, it's a pretty poor doctor who can't cure one disease without giving you another, and a king who can't suppress crime without lowering standards of living should admit that he just doesn't know how to govern free men. He should start by suppressing one of his own vices—either his pride or his laziness, for those are the faults most liable to make a king hated or despised. He should live on his own resources, without being a nuisance to others. He should adapt his expenditure to his income. He should prevent crime by sound administration rather than allow it to develop and then start punishing it. He should hesitate to enforce any law which has long been disregarded—especially if people have got on perfectly well without it. And he should never invent a crime as an excuse for imposing a fine—no private person would be allowed to do anything so dishonest.'

I then proceed to tell them about a system they have in Happiland, a country not far from Utopia. There the King has to swear a solemn oath at his coronation that he'll never keep more than a thousand pounds of gold in his treasury, or an equivalent amount of silver. Apparently the system was started by an excellent king of theirs, who cared more about his country's welfare than his own. He thought it would prevent the accumulation of royal wealth on such a scale as to cause national poverty, and chose that particular figure because he reckoned it would be enough to suppress a revolution or repel an invasion, but not enough to inspire a king with thoughts of foreign conquest. That was his main idea, but not his only one. He also hoped this arrangement would ensure that there was always enough money in circulation for ordinary purposes of exchange, and that the King would have no motive for raising money unfairly, since he wouldn't be allowed to keep any capital in excess of the statutory limit. Now there you have the type of king who's feared by bad men and loved by good ones—but if I said things like that to people who were quite determined to take the opposite view, do you think they'd listen to me?

MORE: Of course they wouldn't, and I can't say I'd blame them. Frankly, I don't see the point of saying things like that, or of giving advice that you know they'll never accept. What possible good could it do? How can they be expected to take in a totally unfamiliar line of thought, which goes against all their deepest prejudices? That sort of thing is quite fun in a friendly conversation, but at a Cabinet meeting, where major decisions of policy have to be made, such philosophizing would be completely out of place.

RAPHAEL: That's exactly what I was saying—there's no room at Court for philosophy.

MORE: There's certainly no room for the academic variety, which says what it thinks irrespective of circumstances. But there is a more civilized form of philosophy which knows the dramatic context, so to speak, tries to fit in with it, and plays an appropriate part in the current performance. That's the sort you should go in for. Otherwise it would be like interrupting some comedy by Plautus, in which a lot of slaves were fooling about, by rushing on to the stage dressed up as a philosopher, and spouting a bit of that scene in the Octavia where Seneca is arguing with Nero. Surely it would be better to keep your mouth shut altogether than to turn the thing into a tragicomedy by interpolating lines from a different play? For, even if your contribution were an improvement on what had gone before, the effect would be so incongruous that you'd ruin the whole show. No, do the best you can to make the present production a success—don't spoil the entire play just because you happen to think of another one that you'd enjoy rather more.

The same rule applies to politics and life at Court. If you can't completely eradicate wrong ideas, or deal with inveterate vices as effectively as you could wish, that's no reason for turning your back on public life altogether. You wouldn't abandon ship in a storm just because you couldn't control the winds.

On the other hand, it's no use attempting to put across entirely new ideas, which will obviously carry no weight with people who are prejudiced against them. You must go to work indirectly. You must handle everything as tactfully as you can, and what you can't put right you must try to make as little wrong as possible. For things will never be perfect, until human beings are perfect—which I don't expect them to be for quite a number of years!

RAPHAEL: The only advantage of that method would be that I mightn't find it quite so maddening as making a real effort to cure other people's madness. But if I'm to speak the truth, I'll have to say the sort of things that you object to. I don't know whether it's right for a philosopher to tell lies, but it's certainly not my way. Besides, though they might be annoyed by what I said, I don't see why it should be thought so fantastically out of the ordinary. It's not as if I'd recommended the system operated in Plato's imaginary Republic, or in Utopia today. Now that, while undoubtedly better than ours, might well strike them as rather odd, because it's based on communal ownership instead of private property.

Of course they wouldn't like my proposals. Having set their hearts on a certain course of action, they'd naturally resent being shown the dangers that lay ahead, and told to give the whole thing up. But apart from that, what did I say that couldn't or shouldn't be said in any company? If we're never to say anything that might be thought unconventional, for fear of its sounding ridiculous, we'll have to hush up, even in a Christian country, practically everything that Christ taught. But that was the last thing He wanted. Didn't He tell His disciples that everything He had whispered in their ears should be proclaimed on the housetops? And most of His teaching is far more at variance with modern conventions than anything I suggested, except in so far as His doctrines have been modified by ingenious preachers—doubtless on your recommendation!

'We'll never get human behaviour in line with Christian ethics,' these gentlemen must have argued, 'so let's adapt Christian ethics to human behaviour. Then at least there'll be some connection between them.'

But I can't see what good they've done. They've merely enabled people to sin with a clear conscience—and that's about all I could do at a Cabinet meeting. For I'd either have to vote against my colleagues, which would be equivalent to not voting at all, or else I'd have to vote with them, in which case, like Micio in Terence, I'd be 'aiding and abetting insanity'.

As for working indirectly, and when things can't be put right, handling them so tactfully that they're as little wrong as possible, I don't quite see what that means. At Court you can't keep your opinions to yourself, or merely connive at other people's crimes. You have to give open support to deplorable policies, and subscribe to utterly monstrous resolutions. If you don't show enough enthusiasm for a bad law, you'll be taken for a spy or even a traitor. Besides, what chance have you got of doing any good, when you're working with colleagues like that? You'll never reform them—they're far more likely to corrupt you, however admirable a character you are. By associating with them you'll either lose your own integrity, or else have it used to conceal their folly and wickedness. So much for the practical results of your indirect method!

There's a delightful image in Plato, which explains why a sensible person is right to steer clear of politics. He sees everyone else rushing into the street and getting soaked in the pouring rain. He can't persuade them to go indoors and keep dry. He knows if he went out too, he'd merely get equally wet. So he just stays indoors himself, and, as he can't do anything about other people's stupidity, comforts himself with the thought: 'Well, I'm all right, anyway.'

Though, to tell you the truth, my dear More, I don't see how you can ever get any real justice or prosperity, so long as there's private property, and everything's judged in terms of money—unless you consider it just for the worst sort of people to have the best living conditions, or unless you're prepared to call a country prosperous, in which all the wealth is owned by a tiny minority—who aren't entirely happy even so, while everyone else is simply miserable.

In fact, when I think of the fair and sensible arrangements in Utopia, where things are run so efficiently with so few laws, and recognition of individual merit is combined with equal prosperity for all—when I compare Utopia with a great many capitalist countries which are always making new regulations, but could never be called well-regulated, where dozens of laws are passed every day, and yet there are still not enough to ensure that one can either earn, or keep, or safely identify one's so-called private property—or why such an endless succession of never-ending lawsuits?—when I consider all this, I feel much more sympathy with Plato, and much less surprise at his refusal to legislate for a city that rejected egalitarian principles. It was evidently quite obvious to a powerful intellect like his that the one essential condition for a healthy society was equal distribution of goods—which I suspect is impossible under capitalism. For, when everyone's entitled to get as much for himself as he can, all available property, however much there is of it, is bound to fall into the hands of a small minority, which means that everyone else is poor. And wealth will tend to vary in inverse proportion to merit. The rich will be greedy, unscrupulous, and totally useless characters, while the poor will be simple, unassuming people whose daily work is far more profitable to the community than it is to them.

In other words, I'm quite convinced that you'll never get a fair distribution of goods, or a satisfactory organization of human life, until you abolish private property altogether. So long as it exists, the vast majority of the human race, and the vastly superior part of it, will inevitably go on labouring under a burden of poverty, hardship, and worry. I don't say that the burden can't be reduced, but you'll never take it right off their shoulders. You might, of course, set a statutory limit to the amount of money or land that any one person is allowed to possess. You might, by suitable legislation, maintain a balance of power between the King and his subjects. You might make it illegal to buy, or even to apply for a public appointment, and unnecessary for a state official to spend any money of his own—otherwise he's liable to recoup his losses by fraud and extortion, and wealth, rather than wisdom, becomes the essential qualification for such posts. Laws of that type would certainly relieve the symptoms, just as a chronic invalid gets some benefit from constant medical attention. But there's no hope of a cure, so long as private property continues. If you try to treat an outbreak in one part of the body politic, you merely exacerbate the symptoms elsewhere. What's medicine for some people is poison for others—because you can never pay Paul without robbing Peter.

MORE: I disagree. I don't believe you'd ever have a reasonable standard of living under a communist system. There'd always tend to be shortages, because nobody would work hard enough. In the absence of a profit motive, everyone would become lazy, and rely on everyone else to do the work for him. Then, when things really got short, the inevitable result would be a series of murders and riots, since nobody would have any legal method of protecting the products of his own labour—especially as there wouldn't be any respect for authority, or I don't see how there could be, in a classless society.

RAPHAEL: You're bound to take that view, for you simply can't imagine what it would be like—not accurately, at any rate. But if you'd been with me in Utopia, and seen it all for yourself, as I did—I lived there for more than five years, you know, and the only reason why I ever left was that I wanted to tell people about the New World—you'd be the first to admit that you'd never seen a country so well organized.

PETER: I must say, I find it hard to believe that things are so much better organized in the New World than in the Old. I should think we're just as intelligent as they are, and our civilization is older. It therefore embodies the fruits of long experience, by which I mean all the schemes that we've worked out for making life more comfortable—not to mention several chance discoveries, which could never have been achieved by deliberate planning.

RAPHAEL: You'd be more qualified to judge the age of their civilization, if you'd read their history books. If these are to be trusted, there were towns in the New World before human life had even begun in the Old. As for what you say about intelligence and chance discoveries, there's no reason to suppose we have a monopoly of either. We may or may not be more intelligent than they are, but I'm quite sure they leave us far behind in their capacity for concentration and hard work. According to their records, they'd had no contact whatsoever with Trans-equatorials, as they call us, until we landed there—except on one occasion, twelve hundred years ago, when a ship was driven off its course in a storm, and wrecked on the coast of Utopia. A few survivors managed to swim ashore, including some Romans and Egyptians, who settled there for good.

Now, this will give you some idea what good use they make of their opportunities. There wasn't a single useful technique practised anywhere in the Roman Empire that they didn't either learn from these survivors, or else work out for themselves, once they'd been given the first clue. They got all that from just one contact with our hemisphere. But if, by any similar accident, a Utopian has ever found his way over here, we've completely forgotten about it, as I dare say people will soon forget that I was ever there. On the strength of our first meeting, they immediately adopted all the best ideas that Europe has produced—but I doubt if we'd be quite so quick to take over any of their arrangements which are better than ours. And that's the main reason, I think, why although they've got no more intelligence or natural resources than we have, they're so much ahead of us politically and economically.

MORE: In that case, my dear Raphael, for goodness' sake tell us some more about the island in question. Don't try to be too concise—give us a detailed account of it from every point of view, geographical, sociological, political, legal—in fact, tell us everything you think we'd like to know, which means everything we don't know already.

RAPHAEL: There's nothing I'd enjoy more, for it's all quite fresh in my memory. But it'll take some time, you understand.

MORE: All right, let's go in to lunch straight away. Then we'll have the whole afternoon at our disposal.

RAPHAEL: Let's do just that.

So we went indoors and had lunch. After the meal we returned to the same spot, sat down on the same bench, and told the servants we were not to be disturbed. Then Peter Gilles and I asked Raphael to keep his promise. Seeing that we really meant it, he took a few moments to collect his thoughts, and then began as follows:

Book Two

RAPHAEL: Well, the island is broadest in the middle, where it measures about two hundred miles across. It's never much narrower than that, except towards the very ends, which gradually taper away and curve right round, just as if they'd been drawn with a pair of compasses, until they almost form a circle five hundred miles in circumference. So you can picture the island as a sort of crescent, with its tips divided by a strait approximately eleven miles wide. Through this the sea flows in, and then spreads out into an enormous lake—though it really looks more like a vast standing pool, for, as it's completely protected from the wind by the surrounding land, the water never gets rough. Thus practically the whole interior of the island serves as a harbour, and boats can sail across it in all directions, which is very useful for everyone.

The harbour mouth is alarmingly full of rocks and shoals. One of these rocks presents no danger to shipping, for it rises high out of the water, almost in the middle of the gap, and has a tower built on it, which is permanently garrisoned. But the other rocks are deadly, because you can't see them. Only the Utopians know where the safe channels are, so without a Utopian pilot it's practically impossible for a foreign ship to enter the harbour. It would be risky enough even for the local inhabitants, if it weren't for certain landmarks erected on the shore—and by simply shifting these landmarks they could lure any number of enemy warships to destruction. Of course, there are plenty of harbours on the other side of the island, but they're all so well fortified, either naturally or artificially, that a handful of men could easily prevent a huge invading force from landing at any of them.

They say, though, and one can actually see for oneself, that Utopia was originally not an island but a peninsula. However, it was conquered by somebody called Utopos, who gave it its present name—it used to be called Sansculottia—and was also responsible for transforming a pack of ignorant savages into what is now, perhaps, the most civilized nation in the world. The moment he landed and got control of the country, he immediately had a channel cut through the fifteen-mile isthmus connecting Utopia with the mainland, so that the sea could flow all round it. Fearing it might cause resentment if he made the local inhabitants do all the work, he put his whole army on the job as well. With this colossal labour force, he got it done incredibly quickly, to the great surprise and terror of the people on the mainland, who'd begun by making fun of the whole idea.

There are fifty-four splendid big towns on the island, all with the same language, laws, customs, and institutions. They're all built on the same plan, and, so far as the sites will allow, they all look exactly alike. The minimum distance between towns is twenty-four miles, and the maximum, no more than a day's walk.

Each town sends three of its older and more experienced citizens to an annual meeting at Aircastle, to discuss the general affairs of the island. Aircastle is regarded as the capital, because of its central position, which makes it easy to get at from every part of the country. The distribution of land is so arranged that the territory of each town stretches for at least twenty miles in every direction, and in one direction much farther—that is, where the distance between towns reaches its maximum. No town has the slightest wish to extend its boundaries, for they don't regard their land as property but as soil that they've got to cultivate.

At regular intervals all over the countryside there are houses supplied with agricultural equipment, and town dwellers take it in turns to go and live in them. Each house accommodates at least forty adults, plus two slaves who are permanently attached to it, and is run by a reliable, elderly married couple, under the supervision of a District Controller, who's responsible for thirty such houses. Each year twenty people from each house go back to town, having done two years in the country, and are replaced by twenty others. These new recruits are then taught farming by the ones who've had a year on the land already, and so know more about the job. Twelve months later the trainees become the instructors, and so on. This system reduces the risk of food shortages, which might occur if the whole agricultural population were equally inexperienced.

Two years is the normal period of work on the land, so that no one's forced to rough it for too long, but those who enjoy country life—and many people do—can get special permission to stay there longer. Landworkers are responsible for cultivating the soil, raising livestock, felling timber, and transporting it to the towns, either by land or sea, whichever is more convenient. They breed vast numbers of chickens by a most extraordinary method. Instead of leaving the hens to sit on the eggs, they hatch out dozens at a time by applying a steady heat to them—with the result that, when the chicks come out of the shells, they regard the poultryman as their mother, and follow him everywhere!

They keep very few horses, and no really tame ones, as they only use them for riding practice. Ploughing and pulling carts is done by oxen. Admittedly they can't go as fast as horses, but the Utopians say they're tougher and subject to fewer diseases. They're also less trouble and less expensive to feed, and, when they're finally past work, they're still useful as meat.

Corn is used solely for making bread, for they drink no beer, only wine, cider, perry, or water—sometimes by itself, but often flavoured with honey or liquorice, which are both very plentiful. The authorities of each town work out very accurately the annual food consumption of their whole area, but they always grow corn and breed livestock far in excess of their own requirements, so that they've plenty to spare for their neighbours.

Any necessary equipment which is not available in the country is got from one's home town—for there's a holiday once a month, when most people go there. You simply ask an official for what you want, and he hands it over, without any sort of payment.

Just before harvest-time District Controllers notify the urban authorities how much extra labour they'll need. So exactly that number of harvesters turns up punctually on the right day, and, if the weather's good, gets the whole job done in something like twenty-four hours.

But I must tell you some more about the towns. Well, when you've seen one of them, you've seen them all, for they're as nearly identical as local conditions will permit. So I'll just give you one example—it doesn't much matter which. However, the obvious choice is Aircastle, for the fact that Parliament meets there gives it a special importance, and it's the one I know best, having lived there for five years.

Aircastle is built on a gently sloping hill-side, and its ground-plan is practically square. It stretches from just below the top of the hill to the River Nowater, two miles away, and extends for two miles and a bit along the river-bank.

The source of the Nowater is quite a small spring eighty miles further inland, but it's joined by several tributaries, two of them pretty big ones, so by the time it gets to Aircastle it's already more than fifty yards wide. It then keeps on growing wider, until it reaches the sea sixty miles away. Right up to the town, and for several miles beyond it, there are strong tidal currents which change direction every six hours. At high tide the sea comes thirty miles inland, filling the whole river-bed and forcing the river back. The water turns brackish for some distance further up-stream, but after that the taste of salt gradually disappears, and the water which flows past Aircastle is absolutely fresh. At low tide the river chases the sea back, and continues pure and uncontaminated practically all the way to the coast.

The town is connected with the other bank of the river by a splendid arched bridge, with stone piers—not just wooden ones. That's at the landward end, so that ships can have unobstructed access to one whole side of the town. There's also another river, not very big, but delightfully calm and peaceful. It gushes out of the hill on which Aircastle is built, and flows down through the middle of it to join the Nowater. The fountain-head is just outside the town, but they've brought it within the circuit of the city wall, so that in case of invasion the enemy couldn't either cut off, divert, or poison their water supply. From that point water is run off to the lower districts of the town through a system of brickwork pipes. Where this method won't work, they have huge cisterns to collect rainwater—which serves the purpose equally well.

The town is surrounded by a thick, high wall, with towers and blockhouses at frequent intervals. On three sides of it there's also a moat, which contains no water, but is very broad and deep, and obstructed by a thornbush entanglement. On the fourth side the river serves as a moat. The streets are well designed, both for traffic and for protection against the wind. The buildings are far from unimpressive, for they take the form of terraces, facing one another and running the whole length of the street. The fronts of the houses are separated by a twenty-foot carriageway. Behind them is a large garden, also as long as the street itself, and completely enclosed by the backs of other streets. Each house has a front door leading into the street, and a back door into the garden. In both cases they're double swing-doors, which open at a touch, and close automatically behind you. So anyone can go in and out—for there's no such thing as private property. The houses themselves are allocated by lot, and changed round every ten years.

They're extremely fond of these gardens, in which they grow fruit, including grapes, as well as grass and flowers. They keep them in wonderful condition—in fact, I've never seen anything to beat them for beauty or fertility. The people of Aircastle are keen gardeners not only because they enjoy it, but because there are interstreet competitions for the best-kept garden. Certainly it would be hard to find any feature of the town more calculated to give pleasure and profit to the community—which makes me think that gardening must have been one of the founder's special interests.

By the founder I mean Utopos himself, who is said to have designed the whole layout of the town right from the start. However, he left posterity to embellish it and add the finishing touches, which he realized would take more than a single lifetime. According to their historical records, which cover a period of 1,760 years from the Conquest, and have always been most carefully written up, the original houses were merely small huts or cottages, built hurriedly with the first timber that came to hand. The walls were plastered with mud, the roofs ridged and thatched. But nowadays every house is an imposing three-storey structure. The walls are faced with flint or some other hard stone, or else with bricks, and lined with roughcast. The sloping roofs have been raised to the horizontal, and covered with a special sort of concrete which costs next to nothing, but is better than lead for resisting bad weather conditions, and is also fireproof. They keep out draughts by glazing the windows—oh yes, they use a great deal of glass there—or sometimes by fitting screens of fine linen treated with clear oil or amber, which has the effect of making it more transparent and also more airtight.

Now for their system of local government. The population is divided into groups of thirty households, each of which elects an official called a Styward every year. Styward is the Old Utopian title—the modern one is District Controller. For every ten Stywards and the households they represent there is a Bencheater, or Senior District Controller.

Each town has two hundred Stywards, who are responsible for electing the Mayor. They do it by secret ballot, after solemnly swearing to vote for the man that they consider best qualified. He has to be one of four candidates nominated by the whole electorate—for each quarter of the town chooses its own candidate and submits his name to the Council of Bencheaters. The Mayor remains in office for life, unless he's suspected of wanting to establish a dictatorship. Bencheaters are elected annually, but they're not normally changed. All other municipal appointments are for one year only.

Every three days, or more often if necessary, the Bencheaters have a meeting with the Mayor, at which they discuss public affairs, and promptly settle any private disputes—though these are very rare. They always invite two Stywards, a different pair each day, to attend their meetings, and there's a rule that no question affecting the general public may be finally decided until it has been debated for three days. It's a capital crime to discuss such questions anywhere except in the Council or the Assembly. Apparently this is to discourage the Mayor and Bencheaters from plotting to override the people's wishes and change the constitution. For the same reason any major issue is referred to the Assembly of Stywards, who explain it to all their households, talk it over among themselves, and then report their views to the Council. Occasionally the matter is referred to Parliament.

There's also a rule in the Council that no resolution can be debated on the day that it's first proposed. All discussion is postponed until the next well-attended meeting. Otherwise someone's liable to say the first thing that comes into his head, and then start thinking up arguments to justify what he has said, instead of trying to decide what's best for the community. That type of person is quite prepared to sacrifice the public to his own prestige, just because, absurd as it may sound, he's ashamed to admit that his first idea might have been wrong—when his first idea should have been to think before he spoke.

And now for their working conditions. Well, there's one job they all do, irrespective of sex, and that's farming. It's part of every child's education. They learn the principles of agriculture at school, and they're taken for regular outings into the fields near the town, where they not only watch farm-work being done, but also do some themselves, as a form of exercise.

Besides farming which, as I say, is everybody's job, each person is taught a special trade of his own. He may be trained to process wool or flax, or he may become a stonemason, a blacksmith, or a carpenter. Those are the only trades that employ any considerable quantity of labour. They have no tailors or dressmakers, since everyone on the island wears the same sort of clothes—except that they vary slightly according to sex and marital status—and the fashion never changes. These clothes are quite pleasant to look at, they allow free movement of the limbs, they're equally suitable for hot and cold weather—and the great thing is, they're all home-made. So everybody learns one of the other trades I mentioned, and by everybody I mean the women as well as the men—though the weaker sex are given the lighter jobs, like spinning and weaving, while the men do the heavier ones.

Most children are brought up to do the same work as their parents, since they tend to have a natural feeling for it. But if a child fancies some other trade, he's adopted into a family that practises it. Of course, great care is taken, not only by the father, but also by the local authorities, to see that the foster-father is a decent, respectable type. When you've learned one trade properly, you can, if you like, get permission to learn another—and when you're an expert in both, you can practise whichever you prefer, unless the other one is more essential to the public.

The chief business of the Stywards—in fact, practically their only business—is to see that nobody sits around doing nothing, but that everyone gets on with his job. They don't wear people out, though, by keeping them hard at work from early morning till late at night, like cart-horses. That's just slavery—and yet that's what life is like for the working classes nearly everywhere else in the world. In Utopia they have a six-hour working day—three hours in the morning, then lunch—then a two-hour break—then three more hours in the afternoon, followed by supper. They go to bed at 8 p.m., and sleep for eight hours. All the rest of the twenty-four they're free to do what they like—not to waste their time in idleness or self-indulgence, but to make good use of it in some congenial activity. Most people spend these free periods on further education, for there are public lectures first thing every morning. Attendance is quite voluntary, except for those picked out for academic training, but men and women of all classes go crowding in to hear them—I mean, different people go to different lectures, just as the spirit moves them. However, there's nothing to stop you from spending this extra time on your trade, if you want to. Lots of people do, if they haven't the capacity for intellectual work, and are much admired for such public-spirited behaviour.

After supper they have an hour's recreation, either in the gardens or in the communal dining-halls, according to the time of year. Some people practise music, others just talk. They've never heard of anything so silly and demoralizing as dice, but they have two games rather like chess. The first is a sort of arithmetical contest, in which certain numbers 'take' others. The second is a pitched battle between virtues and vices, which illustrates most ingeniously how vices tend to conflict with one another, but to combine against virtues. It also shows which vices are opposed to which virtues, how much strength vices can muster for a direct assault, what indirect tactics they employ, what help virtues need to overcome vices, what are the best methods of evading their attacks, and what ultimately determines the victory of one side or the other.

But here's a point that requires special attention, or you're liable to get the wrong idea. Since they only work a six-hour day, you may think there must be a shortage of essential goods. On the contrary, those six hours are enough, and more than enough to produce plenty of everything that's needed for a comfortable life. And you'll understand why it is, if you reckon up how large a proportion of the population in other countries is totally unemployed. First you have practically all the women—that gives you nearly fifty per cent for a start. And in countries where the women do work, the men tend to lounge about instead. Then there are all the priests, and members of so-called religious orders—how much work do they do? Add all the rich, especially the landowners, popularly known as nobles and gentlemen. Include their domestic staffs—I mean those gangs of armed ruffians that I mentioned before. Finally, throw in all the beggars who are perfectly hale and hearty, but pretend to be ill as an excuse for being lazy. When you've counted them up, you'll be surprised to find how few people actually produce what the human race consumes.

And now just think how few of these few people are doing essential work—for where money is the only standard of value, there are bound to be dozens of unnecessary trades carried on, which merely supply luxury goods or entertainment. Why, even if the existing labour force were distributed among the few trades really needed to make life reasonably comfortable, there'd be so much over-production that prices would fall too low for the workers to earn a living. Whereas, if you took all those engaged in non-essential trades, and all who are too lazy to work—each of whom consumes twice as much of the products of other people's labour as any of the producers themselves—if you put the whole lot of them on to something useful, you'd soon see how few hours' work a day would be amply sufficient to supply all the necessities and comforts of life—to which you might add all real and natural forms of pleasure.

But in Utopia the facts speak for themselves. There, out of all the able-bodied men and women who live in a town, or in the country round it, five hundred at the most are exempted from ordinary work. This includes the Stywards, who, though legally exempt, go on working voluntarily to set a good example. It also includes those who are permanently relieved of other duties so that they can concentrate on their studies. This privilege is only granted on the recommendation of the priests, confirmed by the Stywards in a secret ballot—and, if such a student produces disappointing results, he's sent back to the working class. On the other hand, it's not at all unusual for a manual worker to study so hard in his spare time, and make such good progress, that he's excused from practising his trade, and promoted to the intelligentsia.

This is the class from which the diplomats, priests, Bencheaters, and, of course, mayors are recruited. The old-fashioned word for a mayor, by the way, is Barzanes, though nowadays he's usually called a Nopeople. As hardly any other member of the population is either unemployed or non-productively employed, you can guess how much good work they get done in a few hours. Their labour problem is also reduced by the fact that they tackle essential jobs with more economy of effort than we do. For instance, the reason why the building trade usually absorbs so much labour is that people put up houses which their improvident heirs allow to tumble down. So the next generation has to start building all over again, which costs infinitely more than it would have cost to keep the original houses standing. In fact, what often happens is this: A builds a very expensive house, which then fails to satisfy B's fastidious taste. B therefore neglects it so badly that it's soon in ruins, and builds himself an equally expensive house elsewhere. But in Utopia, where everything's under state control, houses are very seldom built on entirely new sites, and repairs are carried out immediately they become necessary, if not before. Thus they achieve maximum durability with the minimum of labour, which means that builders sometimes have practically nothing to do. On such occasions they're sent home to saw up planks and get stones ready squared, so that if they do have to build anything it can go up all the faster.

Then think how much labour they save on clothes. Their working clothes are just loose-fitting leather overalls, which last for at least seven years. When they go about in public, they cover these rough garments with a sort of cloak, which is always the same colour—the natural colour of wool. Thus not only is their consumption of woollen fabric the lowest in the world, but so are their production costs for this material. Linen is even easier to produce, and therefore more often used—but, as long as the linen is white and the wool is clean, they don't care how fine or coarse the thread is. So whereas in other countries you won't find anyone satisfied with less than five or six suits and as many silk shirts, while dressy types want over ten of each, your Utopian is content with a single piece of clothing every two years. For why should he want more? They wouldn't make him any warmer—or any better looking.

With everybody doing useful work, and with such work reduced to a minimum, they build up such large reserves of everything that from time to time they can release a huge labour force to mend any roads which are in bad condition. And quite often, if there's nothing of that sort to be done, the authorities announce a shorter working day. They never force people to work unnecessarily, for the main purpose of their whole economy is to give each person as much time free from physical drudgery as the needs of the community will allow, so that he can cultivate his mind—which they regard as the secret of a happy life.

Now I'd better explain their social arrangements—how society is organized, how they behave towards one another, how goods are distributed, and so on. Well, the smallest social unit is the household, which is virtually synonymous with the family. When a girl grows up and gets married, she joins her husband's household, but the boys of each generation stay at home, under the control of their oldest male relative—unless he becomes senile, in which case the next oldest takes over.

Each town consists of six thousand households, not counting the country ones, and to keep the population fairly steady there's a law that no household shall contain less than ten or more than sixteen adults—as they can't very well fix a figure for children. This law is observed by simply moving supernumerary adults to smaller households. If the town as a whole gets too full, the surplus population is transferred to a town that's comparatively empty. If the whole island becomes over-populated, they tell off a certain number of people from each town to go and start a colony at the nearest point on the mainland where there's a large area that hasn't been cultivated by the local inhabitants. Such colonies are governed by the Utopians, but the natives are allowed to join in if they want to. When this happens, natives and colonists soon combine to form a single community with a single way of life, to the great advantage of both parties—for, under Utopian management, land which used to be thought incapable of producing anything for one lot of people produces plenty for two.

If the natives won't do what they're told, they're expelled from the area marked out for annexation. If they try to resist, the Utopians declare war—for they consider war perfectly justifiable, when one country denies another its natural right to derive nourishment from any soil which the original owners are not using themselves, but are merely holding on to as a worthless piece of property.

Should any town become so depopulated that it can't be brought up to strength by transfers from elsewhere on the island, without reducing the population of some other town below the prescribed minimum—a thing which is said to have happened only twice in their history, each time as the result of a violent epidemic—they recall colonists to fill the gap, on the principle that it's better to lose a colony than to weaken any part of Utopia itself.

But let's get back to their social organization. Each household, as I said, comes under the authority of the oldest male. Wives are subordinate to their husbands, children to their parents, and younger people generally to their elders. Every town is divided into four districts of equal size, each with its own shopping centre in the middle of it. There the products of every household are collected in warehouses, and then distributed according to type among various shops. When the head of a household needs anything for himself or his family, he just goes to one of these shops and asks for it. And whatever he asks for, he's allowed to take away without any sort of payment, either in money or in kind. After all, why shouldn't he? There's more than enough of everything to go round, so there's no risk of his asking for more than he needs—for why should anyone want to start hoarding, when he knows he'll never have to go short of anything? No living creature is naturally greedy, except from fear of want—or in the case of human beings, from vanity, the notion that you're better than people if you can display more superfluous property than they can. But there's no scope for that sort of thing in Utopia.

These shopping centres include provision markets, to which they take meat and fish, as well as bread, fruit and vegetables. But there are special places outside the town where all blood and dirt are first washed off in running water. The slaughtering of livestock and cleaning of carcasses are done by slaves. They don't let ordinary people get used to cutting up animals, because they think it tends to destroy one's natural feelings of humanity. It's also forbidden to bring anything dirty or unhygienic inside the town, for fear of polluting the atmosphere and so causing disease.

Every so often, as you walk down a street, you come to a large building, which has a special name of its own. That's where the Styward lives, and where his thirty households—fifteen from one direction and fifteen from the other—have their meals. The caterers for such dining-halls go off at a certain time each day to the provision market, where they report the number of people registered with them, and draw the appropriate rations.

But hospital patients get first priority—oh yes, there are four hospitals in the suburbs, just outside the walls. Each of them is about the size of a small town. The idea of this is to prevent overcrowding, and facilitate the isolation of infectious cases. These hospitals are so well run, and so well supplied with all types of medical equipment, the nurses are so sympathetic and conscientious, and there are so many experienced doctors constantly available, that, though nobody's forced to go there, practically everyone would rather be ill in hospital than at home.

However, once the caterers for the hospital have got what the doctors have ordered, all the best food that's left is divided equally among the dining-halls—that is, in proportion to the number registered at each—except that certain people receive preferential treatment, such as the Mayor, the Bishop, Bencheaters, and diplomats. The same applies to foreigners—not that there often are any; but, when there are, they're provided with special furnished accommodation.

At lunch-time and supper-time a bugle is blown, and the whole Sty assembles in the dining-hall—except for anyone who's in hospital or ill at home. However, you're quite at liberty to take food home from the market, once the dining-halls have been supplied, for everyone knows you wouldn't do it unless you had to. I mean, no one likes eating at home, although there's no rule against it. For one thing, it's considered rather bad form. For another, it seems silly to go to all the trouble of preparing an inferior meal, when there's an absolutely delicious one waiting for you at the dining-hall just down the street.

In these dining-halls all the rough and dirty work is done by slaves, but the actual business of preparing and cooking the food, and planning the menus, is left entirely to the women of the household on duty—for a different household is responsible for providing the meals every day. The rest of the adults sit at three tables or more, according to their numbers, with the men against the wall and the women on the outside—so that if they suddenly feel sick, as pregnant women do from time to time, they can get up without disturbing anyone else, and retire to the nursery.

By the nursery I mean a room reserved for nursing mothers and their babies, where there's always a good fire and plenty of clean water. There are also plenty of cots, so that mothers can either put their babies to bed, or, if they like, undress them and let them play in front of the fire. Babies are always breast-fed by their mothers, except when death or illness makes this impossible, in which case the Styward's wife takes immediate steps to find a wet-nurse. This presents no problem, for any woman who's in a position to do so will be only too glad to volunteer for the job. You see, such acts of mercy are universally admired, and the child itself will always regard her as its real mother.

The nursery is also the place where the under-fives have their meals. The other children, that is, all boys and girls who aren't old enough to be married, wait at table in the dining-room, or if they're too young for that, just stand there and keep absolutely quiet. In neither case do they have a separate meal-time—they're fed from the tables of the grown-ups.

The place of honour is the centre of the high table, which is on a platform across the end of the hall, and so commands a view of the whole company. Here sit the Styward and his wife, with two of the oldest residents—for the seating is always arranged in groups of four. If there happens to be a church in the Sty, the priest and his wife automatically take precedence, and sit with the Styward. On either side of them are four younger people, then four more older ones, and so on right round the hall. In other words, you sit with your contemporaries, but you're also made to mix with a different age group. The theory of this, I'm told, is that respect for the older generation tends to discourage bad behaviour among the younger ones—since everything they say or do is bound to be noticed by the people sitting just beside them.

When they're handing out food, they don't work straight along the table from one end to the other. They start by giving the best helpings to the older groups, whose places are clearly marked, and then serve equal portions to the others. However, if there's not enough of some particular delicacy to go round, the older ones share their helpings, as they think fit, with their neighbours. Thus the privilege of age is duly respected—but everyone gets just as much in the end.

Lunch and supper begin with a piece of improving literature read aloud—but they keep it quite short, so that nobody gets bored. Then the older people start discussing serious problems, but not in a humourless or depressing way. Nor do they monopolize the conversation throughout the meal. On the contrary, they enjoy listening to the young ones, and deliberately draw them out, so that they can gauge each person's character and intelligence, as they betray themselves in a relaxed, informal atmosphere.

Lunch is pretty short, because work comes after it, but over supper they rather spread themselves, since it's followed by a whole night's sleep, which they consider more conducive to sound digestion. During supper they always have music, and the meal ends with a great variety of sweets and fruit. They also burn incense, and spray the hall with scent. In fact, they do everything they can to make people enjoy themselves—for they're rather inclined to believe that all harmless pleasures are perfectly legitimate.

Well, that's what life is like in the towns. In the country, because of the greater distances involved, everyone eats at home. Of course, they have just as good food as they'd have in town—for they're the ones who produce what the town-dwellers eat.

Now about travel facilities. If you want to visit friends in some other town, or would simply like to see the town itself, you can easily get permission to go there, unless you're urgently needed at home, by applying to your Styward and your Bencheater. You'll be sent with a party of people travelling on a group passport, signed by the Mayor, which says when you've got to be back. You'll be offered some sort of vehicle, with a slave to drive the oxen and look after them—but, unless there are women in the party, most people find this more trouble than it's worth, and prefer to do without. You needn't take any luggage, for wherever you go you'll be equally at home, and able to get everything you want. If you stay in any place for more than twenty-four hours, you'll be expected to carry on with your ordinary work—and be welcomed with open arms by the other people who do it there.

If you're caught without a passport outside your own district, you're brought home in disgrace, and severely punished as a deserter. For a second offence the punishment is slavery. However, if you feel the urge to go wandering about the countryside near the town, there's nothing to stop your doing so, provided your father gives his permission, and your wife doesn't object. Of course, you won't be able to get a meal anywhere, until you've done either a morning's or an afternoon's work there—but, apart from that, you're free to go wherever you like within the territory of your own town, and you're just as useful a member of society as if you'd stayed at home.

You see how it is—wherever you are, you always have to work. There's never any excuse for idleness. There are also no wine-taverns, no ale-houses, no brothels, no opportunities for seduction, no secret meeting-places. Everyone has his eye on you, so you're practically forced to get on with your job, and make some proper use of your spare time.

Under such a system, there's bound to be plenty of everything, and, as everything is divided equally among the entire population, there obviously can't be any poor people or beggars. Each town, you remember, sends three representatives to the annual Lietalk, or Parliament, at Aircastle. There they collect details of the year's production, and as soon as it's clear which products are plentiful in each area, and which are in short supply, they arrange for a series of transfers to equalize distribution. These transfers are one-way transactions, requiring nothing in return—but in practice the free gifts that Town A makes to Town B are balanced by the free gifts that it receives from Town C. So the whole island is like one big household.

When they've made adequate provision for their own needs—which they don't consider they've done, until their reserves are big enough to last them for a year, no matter what happens during the next twelve months—the remainder is exported. Such exports include vast quantities of corn, honey, wool, flax, timber, scarlet and purple cloth, rawhide, wax, tallow, leather, and livestock. One seventh of their total exports to any country go as a free gift to the poor—the rest they sell at reasonable prices. This foreign trade not only pays for essential imports—which normally means just iron—but also brings in a great deal of money. In fact, over a long period they've built up incredibly large reserves of gold and silver. So nowadays they don't much care whether they sell for cash or on credit, and nearly all their trade is of the second kind. However, when giving credit, they're not content with private securities, but insist on having a legal contract signed, sealed, and delivered by the local authority of the importing area. When payment becomes due, this authority collects the money from the individuals concerned, puts it in the public funds, and enjoys the use of it until such time as the Utopians call it in—which they practically never do, for they think it unfair to deprive other people of anything that's useful to them, if one doesn't need it oneself.

However, if they find it necessary to lend part of this capital to another country, then they do ask for it back—and so they do in wartime, for war is the one thing they have in mind when accumulating all that wealth. You see, it's meant to protect them in the event of any major crisis or emergency. Its chief function is to provide colossal rates of pay for foreign mercenaries—whose lives they risk more willingly than their own. They're also well aware that even enemies can be bribed, if you offer them enough, to betray one another or start fighting among themselves. And that's the only reason why they keep such huge stocks of precious metals. Not that they regard them as precious. In fact, I hardly like to tell you how they do regard them, for fear you shouldn't believe me—a fear which seems all the more reasonable when I think how difficult I'd have found it to believe myself, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. For things always sound incredible if they're remote from one's own habits of thought. Still, I suppose it's rather illogical to be surprised at the way they use silver and gold, considering how different all their other customs are from ours. I'm thinking particularly of the fact that they don't use money themselves, but merely keep it for use in an emergency which may or may not arise.

In the meantime silver and gold, the raw materials of money, get no more respect from anyone than their intrinsic value deserves—which is obviously far less than that of iron. Without iron human life is simply impossible, just as it is without fire or water—but we could easily do without silver and gold, if it weren't for the idiotic concept of scarcity-value. And yet kind Mother Nature has deliberately placed all her greatest blessings, like earth, air, and water, right under our noses, and tucked away out of sight the things that are no use to us.

Now if they locked these metals up in a strong-room, the man in the street might get some silly idea into his head—you know what a talent he has for that kind of thing—that the Mayor and the Bencheaters were cheating him, and somehow making a profit out of the stuff. It could, of course, be converted into ornamental bowls or other objets d'art. But then people would grow so fond of them that, if they ever had to melt them down and pay soldiers with them, it would be a terrible wrench.

To get around these difficulties, they've devised a system which, while perfectly consistent with their other conventions, is diametrically opposed to ours—especially to the way we treasure up gold. So you'll probably think it incredible, until you've actually seen it for yourselves. According to this system, plates and drinking-vessels, though beautifully designed, are made of quite cheap stuff like glass or earthenware. But silver and gold are the normal materials, in private houses as well as communal dining-halls, for the humblest items of domestic equipment, such as chamber-pots. They also use chains and fetters of solid gold to immobilize slaves, and anyone who commits a really shameful crime is forced to go about with gold rings on his ears and fingers, a gold necklace round his neck, and a crown of gold on his head. In fact they do everything they can to bring these metals into contempt. This means that if they suddenly had to part with all the gold and silver they possess—a fate which in any other country would be thought equivalent to having one's guts torn out—nobody in Utopia would care two hoots.

It's much the same with jewels. There are pearls to be found on the beaches, diamonds and garnets on certain types of rock—but they never bother to look for them. However, if they happen to come across one, they pick it up and polish it for some toddler to wear. At first, children are terribly proud of such jewellery—until they're old enough to register that it's only worn in the nursery. Then, without any prompting from their parents, but purely as a matter of self-respect, they give it up—just as our children grow out of things like dolls, and conkers, and lucky charms. This curious convention is liable to cause some equally curious reactions, as I realized most vividly in the case of the Flatulentine diplomats.

These diplomats visited Aircastle while I was there, and, as they were coming to discuss a matter of great importance, each town had sent its three Members of Parliament to meet them. Now all foreign diplomats who'd been there before had come from places just across the channel, and were therefore quite familiar with Utopian ideas. They knew it was a country where expensive clothes were not admired, silk was despised, and gold was a dirty word, so they'd dressed as simply as they could for the occasion. But these Flatulentines lived too far away to have had much contact with the Utopians. All they knew was that everyone in Utopia wore the same sort of clothes, and pretty crude ones at that—presumably because they'd nothing better to wear. So they adopted a policy more arrogant than diplomatic, which was to array themselves in positively godlike splendour, and dazzle the wretched Utopians with their magnificence.

When the legation arrived, it consisted of only three men, but these were escorted by a hundred retainers, all wearing multi-coloured clothes, mostly made of silk. As for the great men themselves—for they were great men in their own country—they wore cloth of gold, with great gold chains round their necks, gold ear-rings dangling from their ears, and gold rings on their fingers. Their very hats were festooned with glittering ropes of pearls and other jewels. In fact they were fully equipped with all the things used in Utopia for punishing slaves, humiliating criminals, or amusing small children.

Well, I wouldn't have missed it for anything. There were these three gentlemen, looking terribly pleased with themselves, as they compared their own appearance with that of the local inhabitants—for of course the streets were packed with people. And there was the actual effect that they were producing—so very unexpected and disappointing. You see, from the Utopians' point of view—apart from a few who'd had occasion to go abroad—all that splendour was merely degrading. So they reserved their most respectful greeting for the least distinguished members of the party, and completely ignored the diplomats themselves, assuming from their gold chains that they must be slaves.

Oh, but you should have seen the faces of the older children, who'd grown out of things like pearls and jewels, when they saw the ones on the envoys' hats. They kept nudging their mothers and whispering:

'I say, Mother, just look at that great baby! Fancy wearing jewellery at his age!'

To which the mother would reply, very seriously:

'Sh, dear! I imagine he must be a clown attached to the embassy.'

The gold chains also came in for a lot of criticism.

'I don't think much of that chain,' someone would say. 'It's so thin, the slave could easily break it. Besides, it's far too loose. He could wriggle out of it any time he liked, and run off scot-free!'

But when they'd been there for a day or two, the Flatulentines began to realize the situation. They saw that gold was plentiful, and held extremely cheap—in fact despised as heartily as they themselves admired it. They also noticed that a single runaway slave carried more silver and gold on his person than the three of them put together. So eventually they stopped trying to show off, and, feeling rather ashamed of themselves, abandoned all the finery that they'd been so proud of—especially after a few friendly talks with their hosts, which gave them some insight into local conventions and attitudes. For instance, the Utopians fail to understand why anyone should be so fascinated by the dull gleam of a tiny bit of stone, when he has all the stars in the sky to look at—or how anyone can be silly enough to think himself better than other people, because his clothes are made of finer woollen thread than theirs. After all, those fine clothes were once worn by a sheep, and they never turned it into anything better than a sheep.

Nor can they understand why a totally useless substance like gold should now, all over the world, be considered far more important than human beings, who gave it such value as it has, purely for their own convenience. The result is that a man with about as much mental agility as a lump of lead or a block of wood, a man whose utter stupidity is paralleled only by his immorality, can have lots of good, intelligent people at his beck and call, just because he happens to possess a large pile of gold coins. And if by some freak of fortune or trick of the law—two equally effective methods of turning things upside down—the said coins were suddenly transferred to the most worthless member of his domestic staff, you'd soon see the present owner trotting after his money, like an extra piece of currency, and becoming his own servant's servant. But what puzzles and disgusts the Utopians even more is the idiotic way some people have of practically worshipping a rich man, not because they owe him money or are otherwise in his power, but simply because he's rich—although they know perfectly well that he's far too mean to let a single penny come their way, so long as he's alive to stop it.

They get these ideas partly from being brought up under a social system which is directly opposed to that type of nonsense, and partly from their reading and education. Admittedly, no one's allowed to become a full-time student, except for the very few in each town who appear as children to possess unusual gifts, outstanding intelligence, and a special aptitude for academic research. But every child receives a primary education, and most men and women go on educating themselves all their lives during those free periods that I told you about. Everything's taught in their own language, for it has quite a rich vocabulary. It's also quite pleasant to listen to, and extremely expressive. People are beginning to speak it all over that part of the world—though always in a more or less debased form.

Until we arrived, they didn't even know the name of any famous European philosopher. And yet they'd discovered much the same principles, in music, logic, arithmetic, and geometry, as those early authorities of ours. But though in most things they're on a par with the Ancients, they're no match for the Moderns when it comes to logic. For instance, they've still failed to invent a single one of those rules about Restrictions, Amplifications, and Suppositions which have been so cleverly worked out in A Short Introduction to Logic, for all our schoolboys to learn by heart. And so far from being equal to investigating Second Intentions, they're even blind to the existence of that notorious Universal, M A N. Now he, as you know, is a pretty conspicuous figure, bigger than any giant you ever heard of—but, though we pointed him out quite clearly, none of them could see him.

On the other hand they're great experts in astronomy, and have invented several ingenious instruments for determining the precise positions and movements of the sun and moon, and of all other heavenly bodies visible in their hemisphere. But as for astrology—friendships and quarrels between the planets, fortune-telling by the stars, and all the rest of that humbug—they've never even dreamt of such a thing.

They've learnt by long experience to recognize the signs of approaching rain, wind, and other changes in the weather. But if you asked them to explain the theory of such phenomena, or to say why the sea is salt, or what causes tides, or to give a general account of the origin and nature of the universe, you'd get various different answers. Some of them would be in line with the views of our ancient philosophers. However, as these weren't always unanimous, you won't be surprised to hear that the Utopians have produced some entirely new theories of their own, which aren't wholly consistent with one another either.

In ethics they discuss the same problems as we do. Having distinguished between three types of 'good', psychological, physiological, and environmental, they proceed to ask whether the term is strictly applicable to all of them, or only to the first. They also argue about such things as virtue and pleasure. But their chief subject of dispute is the nature of human happiness—on what factor or factors does it depend? Here they seem rather too much inclined to take a hedonistic view, for according to them human happiness consists largely or wholly in pleasure. Surprisingly enough, they defend this self-indulgent doctrine by arguments drawn from religion—a thing normally associated with a more serious view of life, if not with gloomy asceticism. You see, in all their discussions of happiness they invoke certain religious principles to supplement the operations of reason, which they think otherwise ill-equipped to identify true happiness.

The first principle is that every soul is immortal, and was created by a kind God, Who meant it to be happy. The second is that we shall be rewarded or punished in the next world for our good or bad behaviour in this one. Although these are religious principles, the Utopians find rational grounds for accepting them. For suppose you didn't accept them? In that case, they say, any fool could tell you what you ought to do. You should go all out for your own pleasure, irrespective of right and wrong. You'd merely have to make sure that minor pleasures didn't interfere with major ones, and avoid the type of pleasure that has painful after-effects. For what's the sense of struggling to be virtuous, denying yourself the pleasant things of life, and deliberately making yourself uncomfortable, if there's nothing you hope to gain by it? And what can you hope to gain by it, if you receive no compensation after death for a thoroughly unpleasant, that is, a thoroughly miserable life?

Not that they identify happiness with every type of pleasure—only with the higher ones. Nor do they identify it with virtue—unless they belong to a quite different school of thought. According to the normal view, happiness is the summum bonum towards which we're naturally impelled by virtue—which in their definition means following one's natural impulses, as God meant us to do. But this includes obeying the instinct to be reasonable in our likes and dislikes. And reason also teaches us, first to love and reverence Almighty God, to Whom we owe our existence and our potentiality for happiness, and secondly to get through life as comfortably and cheerfully as we can, and help all other members of our species to do so too.

The fact is, even the sternest ascetic tends to be slightly inconsistent in his condemnation of pleasure. He may sentence you to a life of hard labour, inadequate sleep, and general discomfort, but he'll also tell you to do your best to ease the pains and privations of others. He'll regard all such attempts to improve the human situation as laudable acts of humanity—for obviously nothing could be more humane, or more natural for a human being, than to relieve other people's sufferings, put an end to their miseries, and restore their joie de vivre, that is, their capacity for pleasure. So why shouldn't it be equally natural to do the same thing for oneself?

Either it's a bad thing to enjoy life, in other words, to experience pleasure—in which case you shouldn't help anyone to do it, but should try to save the whole human race from such a frightful fate—or else, if it's good for other people, and you're not only allowed, but positively obliged to make it possible for them, why shouldn't charity begin at home? After all, you've a duty to yourself as well as to your neighbour, and, if Nature says you must be kind to others, she can't turn round the next moment and say you must be cruel to yourself. The Utopians therefore regard the enjoyment of life—that is, pleasure—as the natural object of all human efforts, and natural, as they define it, is synonymous with virtuous. However, Nature also wants us to help one another to enjoy life, for the very good reason that no human being has a monopoly of her affections. She's equally anxious for the welfare of every member of the species. So of course she tells us to make quite sure that we don't pursue our own interests at the expense of other people's.

On this principle they think it right to keep one's promises in private life, and also to obey public laws for regulating the distribution of 'goods'—by which I mean the raw materials of pleasure—provided such laws have been properly made by a wise ruler, or passed by common consent of a whole population, which has not been subjected to any form of violence or deception. Within these limits they say it's sensible to consult one's own interests, and a moral duty to consult those of the community as well. It's wrong to deprive someone else of a pleasure so that you can enjoy one yourself, but to deprive yourself of a pleasure so that you can add to someone else's enjoyment is an act of humanity by which you always gain more than you lose. For one thing, such benefits are usually repaid in kind. For another, the mere sense of having done somebody a kindness, and so earned his affection and good will, produces a spiritual satisfaction which far outweighs the loss of a physical one. And lastly—a belief that comes easily to a religious mind—God will reward us for such small sacrifices of momentary pleasure, by giving us an eternity of perfect joy. Thus they argue that, in the final analysis, pleasure is the ultimate happiness which all human beings have in view, even when they're acting most virtuously.

Pleasure they define as any state or activity, physical or mental, which is naturally enjoyable. The operative word is naturally. According to them, we're impelled by reason as well as an instinct to enjoy ourselves in any natural way which doesn't hurt other people, interfere with greater pleasures, or cause unpleasant after-effects. But human beings have entered into an idiotic conspiracy to call some things enjoyable which are naturally nothing of the kind—as though facts were as easily changed as definitions. Now the Utopians believe that, so far from contributing to happiness, this type of thing makes happiness impossible—because, once you get used to it, you lose all capacity for real pleasure, and are merely obsessed by illusory forms of it. Very often these have nothing pleasant about them at all—in fact, most of them are thoroughly disagreeable. But they appeal so strongly to perverted tastes that they come to be reckoned not only among the major pleasures of life, but even among the chief reasons for living.

In the category of illusory pleasure-addicts they include the kind of person I mentioned before, who thinks himself better than other people because he's better dressed than they are. Actually he's just as wrong about his clothes as he is about himself. From a practical point of view, why is it better to be dressed in fine woollen thread than in coarse? But he's got it into his head that fine thread is naturally superior, and that wearing it somehow increases his own value. So he feels entitled to far more respect than he'd ever dare to hope for, if he were less expensively dressed, and is most indignant if he fails to get it.

Talking of respect, isn't it equally idiotic to attach such importance to a lot of empty gestures which do nobody any good? For what real pleasure can you get out of the sight of a bared head or a bent knee? Will it cure the rheumatism in your own knee, or make you any less weak in the head? Of course, the great believers in this type of artificial pleasure are those who pride themselves on their 'nobility'. Nowadays that merely means that they happen to belong to a family which has been rich for several generations, preferably in landed property. And yet they feel every bit as 'noble' even if they've failed to inherit any of the said property, or if they have inherited it and then frittered it all away.

Then there's another type of person I mentioned before, who has a passion for jewels, and feels practically superhuman if he manages to get hold of a rare one, especially if it's a kind that's considered particularly precious in his country and period—for the value of such things varies according to where and when you live. But he's so terrified of being taken in by appearances that he refuses to buy any jewel until he's stripped off all the gold and inspected it in the nude. And even then he won't buy it without a solemn assurance and a written guarantee from the jeweller that the stone is genuine. But my dear sir, why shouldn't a fake give you just as much pleasure, if you can't, with your own eyes, distinguish it from a real one? It makes no difference to you whether it's genuine or not—any more than it would to a blind man!

And now, what about those people who accumulate superfluous wealth, for no better purpose than to enjoy looking at it? Is their pleasure a real one, or merely a form of delusion? The opposite type of psychopath buries his gold, so that he'll never be able to use it, and may never even see it again. In fact, he deliberately loses it in his anxiety not to lose it—for what can you call it but lost, when it's put back into the earth, where it's no good to him, or probably to anyone else? And yet he's tremendously happy when he's got it stowed away. Now, apparently, he can stop worrying. But suppose the money is stolen, and ten years later he dies without ever knowing it has gone. Then for a whole ten years he has managed to survive his loss, and during that period what difference has it made to him whether the money was there or not? It was just as little use to him either way.

Among stupid pleasures they include not only gambling—a form of idiocy that they've heard about but never practised—but also hunting and hawking. What on earth is the fun, they ask, of throwing dice on to a table? Besides, you've done it so often that, even if there was some fun in it at first, you must surely be sick of it by now. How can you possibly enjoy listening to anything so disagreeable as the barking and howling of dogs? And why is it more amusing to watch a dog chasing a hare than to watch one dog chasing another? In each case the essential activity is running—if running is what amuses you. But if it's really the thought of being in at the death, and seeing an animal torn to pieces before your eyes, wouldn't pity be a more appropriate reaction to the sight of a weak, timid, harmless little creature like a hare being devoured by something so much stronger and fiercer?

So the Utopians consider hunting below the dignity of free men, and leave it entirely to butchers, who are, as I told you, slaves. In their view hunting is the vilest department of butchery, compared with which all the others are relatively useful and honourable. An ordinary butcher slaughters livestock far more sparingly, and only because he has to, whereas a hunter kills and mutilates poor little creatures purely for his own amusement. They say you won't find that type of blood-lust even among animals, unless they're particularly savage by nature, or have become so by constantly being used for this cruel sport.

There are hundreds of things like that, which are generally regarded as pleasures, but everyone in Utopia is quite convinced that they've got nothing to do with real pleasure, because there's nothing naturally enjoyable about them. Nor is this conviction at all shaken by the argument that most people do actually enjoy them, which would seem to indicate an appreciable pleasure-content. They say this is a purely subjective reaction caused by bad habits, which can make a person prefer unpleasant things to pleasant ones, just as pregnant women sometimes lose their sense of taste, and find suet or turpentine more delicious than honey. But however much one's judgement may be impaired by habit or ill health, the nature of pleasure, as of everything else, remains unchanged.

Real pleasures they divide into two categories, mental and physical. Mental pleasures include the satisfaction that one gets from understanding something, or from contemplating truth. They also include the memory of a well-spent life, and the confident expectation of good things to come. Physical pleasures are subdivided into two types. First there are those which fill the whole organism with a conscious sense of enjoyment. This may be the result of replacing physical substances which have been burnt up by the natural heat of the body, as when we eat or drink. Or else it may be caused by the discharge of some excess, as in excretion, sexual intercourse, or any relief of irritation by rubbing or scratching. However, there are also pleasures which satisfy no organic need, and relieve no previous discomfort. They merely act, in a mysterious but quite unmistakable way, directly on our senses, and monopolize their reactions. Such is the pleasure of music.

Their second type of physical pleasure arises from the calm and regular functioning of the body—that is, from a state of health undisturbed by any minor ailments. In the absence of mental discomfort, this gives one a good feeling, even without the help of external pleasures. Of course, it's less ostentatious, and forces itself less violently on one's attention than the cruder delights of eating and drinking, but even so it's often considered the greatest pleasure in life. Practically everyone in Utopia would agree that it's a very important one, because it's the basis of all the others. It's enough by itself to make you enjoy life, and unless you have it, no other pleasure is possible. However, mere freedom from pain, without positive health, they would call not pleasure but anaesthesia.

Some thinkers used to maintain that a uniformly tranquil state of health couldn't properly be termed a pleasure since its presence could only be detected by contrast with its opposite—oh yes, they went very thoroughly into the whole question. But that theory was exploded long ago, and nowadays nearly everybody subscribes to the view that health is most definitely a pleasure. The argument goes like this—illness involves pain, which is the direct opposite of pleasure, and illness is the direct opposite of health, therefore health involves pleasure. They don't think it matters whether you say that illness is or merely involves pain. Either way it comes to the same thing. Similarly, whether health is a pleasure, or merely produces pleasure as inevitably as fire produces heat, it's equally logical to assume that where you have an uninterrupted state of health you cannot fail to have pleasure.

Besides, they say, when we eat something, what really happens is this. Our failing health starts fighting off the attacks of hunger, using the food as an ally. Gradually it begins to prevail, and, in this very process of winning back its normal strength, experiences the sense of enjoyment which we find so refreshing. Now, if health enjoys the actual battle, why shouldn't it also enjoy the victory? Or are we to suppose that when it has finally managed to regain its former vigour—the one thing that it has been fighting for all this time—it promptly falls into a coma, and fails to notice or take advantage of its success? As for the idea that one isn't conscious of health except through its opposite, they say that's quite untrue. Everyone's perfectly aware of feeling well, unless he's asleep or actually feeling ill. Even the most insensitive and apathetic sort of person will admit that it's delightful to be healthy—and what is delight, but a synonym for pleasure?

They're particularly fond of mental pleasures, which they consider of primary importance, and attribute mostly to good behaviour and a clear conscience. Their favourite physical pleasure is health. Of course, they believe in enjoying food, drink, and so forth, but purely in the interests of health, for they don't regard such things as very pleasant in themselves—only as methods of resisting the stealthy onset of disease. A sensible person, they say, prefers keeping well to taking medicine, and would rather feel cheerful than have people trying to comfort him. On the same principle it's better not to need this type of pleasure than to become addicted to it. For, if you think that sort of thing will make you happy, you'll have to admit that your idea of perfect felicity would be a life consisting entirely of hunger, thirst, itching, eating, drinking, rubbing, and scratching—which would obviously be most unpleasant as well as quite disgusting. Undoubtedly these pleasures should come right at the bottom of the list, because they're so impure. For instance, the pleasure of eating is invariably diluted with the pain of hunger, and not in equal proportions either—for the pain is both more intense and more prolonged. It starts before the pleasure, and doesn't stop until the pleasure has stopped too.

So they don't think much of pleasures like that, except in so far as they're necessary. But they enjoy them all the same, and feel most grateful to Mother Nature for encouraging her children to do things that have to be done so often, by making them so attractive. For just think how dreary life would be, if those chronic ailments, hunger and thirst, could only be cured by foul-tasting medicines, like the rarer types of disease!

They attach great value to special natural gifts such as beauty, strength, and agility. They're also keen on the pleasures of sight, hearing, and smell, which are peculiar to human beings—for no other species admires the beauty of the world, enjoys any sort of scent, except as a method of locating food, or can tell the difference between a harmony and a discord. They say these things give a sort of relish to life.

However, in all such matters they observe the rule that minor pleasures mustn't interfere with major ones, and that pleasure mustn't cause pain—which they think is bound to happen, if the pleasure is immoral. But they'd never dream of despising their own beauty, overtaxing their strength, converting their agility into inertia, ruining their physique by going without food, damaging their health, or spurning any other of Nature's gifts, unless they were doing it for the benefit of other people or of society, in the hope of receiving some greater pleasure from God in return. For they think it's quite absurd to torment oneself in the name of an unreal virtue, which does nobody any good, or in order to steel oneself against disasters which may never occur. They say such behaviour is merely self-destructive, and shows a most ungrateful attitude towards Nature—as if one refused all her favours, because one couldn't bear the thought of being indebted to her for anything.

Well, that's their ethical theory, and short of some divine revelation, they doubt if the human mind is capable of devising a better one. We've no time to discuss whether it's right or wrong—nor is it really necessary, for all I undertook was to describe their way of life, not to defend it.

But one thing I'm quite sure of. Whatever you may think of their doctrines, you won't find a more prosperous country or a more splendid lot of people anywhere on earth. Physically, they're very active, full of energy, and stronger than their height would suggest—though you couldn't call them exactly short. Their land isn't always very fertile, and their climate's not too good, but by a well-balanced diet they build up their resistance to bad weather conditions, and by careful cultivation they correct the deficiencies of the soil. The result is that they've beaten all records for the production of corn and livestock, their expectation of life is the highest in the world, and their disease-rate the lowest. Thus, by scientific methods, they've done wonders with a country that's naturally rather barren. Not that their talents are confined to ordinary farming. You'll also find them uprooting whole forests and replanting them elsewhere, not to increase the yield, but to facilitate the transport of timber, by bringing it nearer to the sea, or to a river, or to a town—for it's not so easy to carry timber long distances by roads as corn. The people themselves are friendly and intelligent, with a good sense of humour. Though fond of relaxation, they're capable of hard physical work when necessary. Otherwise they don't much care for it—but they never get tired of using their brains.

When I told them about Greek literature and philosophy—for I didn't think there was anything in Latin that they'd like very much—they became extraordinarily anxious to study the original texts, under my tuition. So I started giving them lessons, at first merely because I didn't like to refuse, rather than from any hope of getting good results. But I soon realized that with such hardworking pupils my own efforts wouldn't be wasted. They had so little difficulty with the letters and pronunciation, learned things so quickly by heart and repeated them so accurately, that I'd have thought it quite miraculous, if I hadn't known that everyone who'd volunteered for the course, and got permission from the Council to join it, was a mature scholar of outstanding intelligence. So in less than three years they knew the language perfectly, and, apart from corruptions in the text, there was nothing to stop them from reading straight through any good author.

My own guess is that Greek somehow came naturally to them, and that's why they found it so easy to learn. You see, I can't help thinking they must be of Greek extraction, since their language, though otherwise more like Persian, contains some traces of Greek in place-names and official titles. I presented them with several Greek texts—for when I started out on the fourth voyage I didn't intend to come back for a very long time, if at all, so, instead of packing a lot of things to sell, I took on board a pretty large trunk full of books. I gave them most of Plato, even more of Aristotle, and Theophrastus's work on botany—but this, I'm sorry to say, was in rather poor condition, as I'd carelessly left it lying around while we were at sea, and a monkey had got hold of it. He'd amused himself by playfully ripping out odd pages here and there, and tearing them to pieces. The only grammar I could let them have was the one by Lascaris, for I hadn't brought my Theodorus with me, and their only dictionaries are those of Hesychius and Dioscorides. They've also got Plutarch, who is their favourite author, and Lucian, whom they find delightfully entertaining. The poets are represented by Aristophanes, Homer, and Euripides—oh yes, and Sophocles—in the miniature Aldine edition, and the historians by Thucydides and Herodotus, not to mention Herodianus.

My friend Tommy Rot had also brought some medical text-books with him, a few short works by Hippocrates, and Galen's Handbook. The Utopians think very highly of them, for, though nobody in the world needs medicine less than they do, nobody has more respect for it. They consider it one of the most interesting and important departments of science—and, as they see it, the scientific investigation of nature is not only a most enjoyable process, but also the best possible method of pleasing the Creator. For they assume that He has the normal reactions of an artist. Having put the marvellous system of the universe on show for human beings to look at—since no other species is capable of taking it in—He must prefer the type of person who examines it carefully, and really admires His work, to the type that just ignores it and like the lower animals remains quite unimpressed by the whole astonishing spectacle.

By applying their trained intelligence to scientific research, they've become amazingly good at inventing things that are useful in everyday life. Two inventions, however, they owe to us—though even there much of the credit should go to them. For the moment we showed them some books that Aldus had printed, and talked a bit about printing and paper-making—we couldn't explain them properly, as none of us knew much about either process—they immediately made a shrewd guess how the things were done. Up till then they'd only produced skin, bark, or papyrus manuscripts, but now they instantly started to manufacture paper, and print from type. At first they weren't too successful, but after repeated experiments they soon mastered both techniques so thoroughly that, if it weren't for the shortage of original texts, they could have all the Greek books they wanted. As it is, they have only the works I mentioned, but of these they've already printed and published several thousand copies.

They welcome foreign tourists with open arms, if they've any special talents to recommend them, or have done a lot of travelling and know about many different countries. That's why they were so glad to see us, for they love hearing what goes on in other parts of the world. But traders don't often call there, for apart from gold and silver, which most traders would rather take home with them, the Utopians import nothing but iron. As for their own export trade, they prefer to deliver things themselves than have people come and fetch them, as this gives them more experience of the outside world, and more practice in navigation.

By the way, the slaves that I've occasionally referred to are not, as you might imagine, non-combatant prisoners-of-war, slaves by birth, or purchases from foreign slave markets. They're either Utopian convicts or, much more often, condemned criminals from other countries, who are acquired in large numbers, sometimes for a small payment, but usually for nothing. Both types of slaves are kept hard at work in chaingangs, though Utopians are treated worse than foreigners. The idea is that it's all the more deplorable if a person who has had the advantage of a first-rate education and a thoroughly moral upbringing still insists on becoming a criminal—so the punishment should be all the more severe.

Another type of slave is the working-class foreigner who, rather than live in wretched poverty at home, volunteers for slavery in Utopia. Such people are treated with respect, and with almost as much kindness as Utopian citizens, except that they're made to work harder, because they're used to it. If they want to leave the country, which doesn't often happen, they're perfectly free to do so, and receive a small gratuity.

As I told you, when people are ill, they're looked after most sympathetically, and given everything in the way of medicine or special food that could possibly assist their recovery. In the case of permanent invalids, the nurses try to make them feel better by sitting and talking to them, and do all they can to relieve their symptoms. But if, besides being incurable, the disease also causes constant excruciating pain, some priests and government officials visit the person concerned, and say something like this:

'Let's face it, you'll never be able to live a normal life. You're just a nuisance to other people and a burden to yourself—in fact you're really leading a sort of posthumous existence. So why go on feeding germs? Since your life's a misery to you, why hesitate to die? You're imprisoned in a torture-chamber—why don't you break out and escape to a better world? Or say the word, and we'll arrange for your release. It's only common sense to cut your losses. It's also an act of piety to take the advice of a priest, because he speaks for God.'

If the patient finds these arguments convincing, he either starves himself to death, or is given a soporific and put painlessly out of his misery. But this is strictly voluntary, and, if he prefers to stay alive, everyone will go on treating him as kindly as ever. Officially sanctioned euthanasia is regarded as an honourable death—but if you commit suicide for reasons which the priests and the Bencheaters do not consider adequate, you forfeit all rights to either burial or cremation, and your body is just thrown unceremoniously into a pond.

Girls aren't allowed to marry until they're eighteen—boys have to wait four years longer. Any boy or girl convicted of premarital intercourse is severely punished, and permanently disqualified from marrying, unless this sentence is remitted by the Mayor. The man and woman in charge of the household in which it happens are also publicly disgraced, for not doing their jobs properly. The Utopians are particularly strict about that kind of thing, because they think very few people would want to get married—which means spending one's whole life with the same person, and putting up with all the inconveniences that this involves—if they weren't carefully prevented from having any sexual intercourse otherwise.

When they're thinking of getting married, they do something that seemed to us quite absurd, though they take it very seriously. The prospective bride, no matter whether she's a spinster or a widow, is exhibited stark naked to the prospective bridegroom by a respectable married woman, and a suitable male chaperon shows the bridegroom naked to the bride. When we implied by our laughter that we thought it a silly system, they promptly turned the joke against us.

'What we find so odd,' they said, 'is the silly way these things are arranged in other parts of the world. When you're buying a horse, and there's nothing at stake but a small sum of money, you take every possible precaution. The animal's practically naked already, but you firmly refuse to buy until you've whipped off the saddle and all the rest of the harness, to make sure there aren't any sores underneath. But when you're choosing a wife, an article that for better or worse has got to last you a lifetime, you're unbelievably careless. You don't even bother to take it out of its wrappings. You judge the whole woman from a few square inches of face, which is all you can see of her, and then proceed to marry her—at the risk of finding her most disagreeable, when you see what she's really like. No doubt you needn't worry, if moral character is the only thing that interests you—but we're not all as wise as that, and even those who are sometimes find, when they get married, that a beautiful body can be quite a useful addition to a beautiful soul. Certainly those wrappings may easily conceal enough ugliness to destroy a husband's feelings for his wife, when it's too late for a physical separation. Of course, if she turns ugly after the wedding, he must just resign himself to his fate—but one does need some legal protection against marriage under false pretences!'

In their case, some such precautions are particularly necessary, since unlike all their neighbours they're strictly monogamous. Most married couples are parted only by death, except in the case of adultery or intolerably bad behaviour, when the innocent party may get permission from the Council to marry someone else—the guilty party is disgraced, and condemned to celibacy for life. But in no circumstances can a man divorce his wife simply because, through no fault of her own, she has deteriorated physically. Quite apart from the cruelty of deserting a person at the very time when she most needs sympathy, they think that, if this sort of thing were allowed, there'd be no security whatever for old age, which not only brings many diseases with it, but is really a disease in itself.

Occasionally, though, divorce by mutual consent is allowed on grounds of incompatibility, when both husband and wife have found alternative partners that seem likely to make them happier. But this requires special permission, which can only be got after a thorough investigation by the Bencheaters and their wives. Even then they're rather reluctant to give it, for they think there's nothing less calculated to strengthen the marriage tie than the prospect of easy divorce.

Adulterers are sentenced to penal servitude of the most unpleasant type. If both offenders are married, their injured partners may, if they like, obtain a divorce and marry one another, or anyone else they choose. But if they continue to love their undeserving mates, they're allowed to stay married to them, provided they're willing to share their working conditions. In such cases the Mayor is sometimes so touched by the guilty party's remorse and the innocent party's loyalty that he lets them both go free. But a second conviction means capital punishment.

Otherwise there are no fixed penalties prescribed by law—the Council decides in each case what sentence is appropriate. Husbands are responsible for punishing their wives, and parents for punishing their children, unless the offence is so serious that it has to be dealt with by the authorities, in the interests of public morality. The normal penalty for any major crime is slavery. They say it's just as unpleasant for the criminals as capital punishment, and more useful to society than getting rid of them right away, since live workers are more valuable than dead ones, and have a more prolonged deterrent effect. However, if convicts prove recalcitrant under this treatment, and don't respond to any sort of prison discipline, they're just slaughtered like wild beasts. But the prospects of those who accept the situation aren't absolutely hopeless. If, after being tamed by years of hardship, they show signs of feeling really sorry, not merely for themselves, but for what they've done, their sentence is either reduced or cancelled altogether, sometimes at the discretion of the Mayor, and sometimes by a general plebiscite.

Attempted seduction is punished no less severely than actual seduction. The same applies to every other type of offence—anyone who deliberately tries to commit a crime is legally assumed to have committed it. It's no fault of his, they argue, that he didn't bring it off, so why give him credit for his failure?

They're extremely fond of people who are mentally deficient and, though it's considered very bad form to insult them, it's quite in order to find their silly behaviour amusing. In fact, it's thought better for them that you should, for, if you haven't enough sense of humour to see anything funny about the things they say and do, you're obviously not the right person to look after them. I mean, if you don't value them even as a source of entertainment, which is the only thing they're good for, you won't treat them kindly enough.

But if you start laughing at anyone who's ugly or deformed everyone will start laughing at you. You'll have made an awful fool of yourself by implying that people are to blame for things they can't help—for, although one's thought very lazy if one doesn't try to preserve one's natural beauty, the Utopians strongly disapprove of make-up. Actually, they've found by experience that what husbands look for in their wives is not so much physical beauty, as modesty and a respectful attitude towards themselves. A pretty face may be enough to catch a man, but it takes character and good nature to hold him.

The Utopian system includes not only deterrents from crime, but also incentives to good behaviour in the form of public honours. For instance, they put up statues in the market-place of people who've distinguished themselves by outstanding services to the community, partly to commemorate their achievements, and partly to spur on future generations to greater efforts, by reminding them of the glory of their ancestors. But anyone who deliberately tries to get himself elected to a public office is permanently disqualified from holding one. Social relations are uniformly friendly, for officials are never pompous or intimidating in their manner. They're normally addressed as 'Father', and that's how they behave. Everyone treats them with proper respect, but nobody's forced to do so. Even the Mayor himself wears perfectly ordinary clothes, without any special headdress. His only badge of office is a bunch of corn that he carries—just as a Bishop carries a taper.

They have very few laws, because, with their social system, very few laws are required. Indeed, one of their great complaints against other countries is that, although they've already got books and books of laws and interpretations of laws, they never seem to have enough. For, according to the Utopians, it's quite unjust for anyone to be bound by a legal code which is too long for an ordinary person to read right through, or too difficult for him to understand. What's more, they have no barristers to be over-ingenious about individual cases and points of law. They think it better for each man to plead his own cause, and tell the judge the same story as he'd otherwise tell his lawyer. Under such conditions, the point at issue is less likely to be obscured, and it's easier to get at the truth—for, if nobody's telling the sort of lies that one learns from lawyers, the judge can apply all his shrewdness to weighing the facts of the case, and protecting simple-minded characters against the unscrupulous attacks of clever ones.

This arrangement wouldn't work very well in other countries, because there's such a mass of complicated legislation to deal with. But in Utopia everyone's a legal expert, for the simple reason that there are, as I said, very few laws, and the crudest interpretation is always assumed to be the right one. They say the only purpose of a law is to remind people what they ought to do, so the more ingenious the interpretation, the less effective the law, since proportionately fewer people will understand it—whereas the simple and obvious meaning stares everyone in the face. From the point of view of the lower orders, who form the largest section of the community, and are most in need of such reminders, you might just as well not make a law at all, as make one and then interpret it in a sense that can only be established after a lot of clever argument—for the ordinary person who's busy earning his living hasn't either the time or the mental capacity for that type of research.

Because of their many good qualities, the Utopians are asked by several of their neighbours to supply them with government officials, some on an annual and some on a quinquennial basis. Of course, this only happens where the people are free to make their own decisions—but the Utopians liberated most of the countries round them from dictatorships long ago. When their tour of duty expires, these officials are repatriated with every mark of honour and esteem, and replaced by other Utopians. It's certainly a very wise move on the part of the countries concerned, for the welfare of a state depends entirely on the quality of its administrators, and the Utopians are obviously ideal for the job. They can't be bribed to do anything dishonest, as they'll soon be going home, where money is no use to them. And as they don't know any of the local inhabitants, they're never tempted by private likes or dislikes to make a wrong decision. These qualifications are particularly important for a judge, because personal prejudice and financial greed are the two great evils that threaten courts of law, and once they get the upper hand they immediately hamstring society, by destroying all justice.

When the Utopians talk about their 'allies' they mean these countries which they supply with administrators. 'Friendly powers' are countries that they've helped in any other way. But they never make any actual treaties of the kind that are so constantly being made, broken, and renewed by other nations. What, they ask, is the good of a treaty? Aren't all human beings natural allies already? And if a person's prepared to ignore a fundamental bond like that, is he likely to pay much attention to a mere form of words? They take this view mainly because, in their part of the world, kings aren't very scrupulous about observing pacts and agreements. In Europe, of course, especially the Christian parts of it, treaties are universally regarded as sacred and inviolate, partly because our kings are so good and just themselves, and partly because they're so much in awe of the Popes. They, as we know, not only discharge their own obligations most religiously, but command all other rulers to keep their promises whatever happens, and administer stern pastoral rebukes to any who fail to do so. They evidently think, quite rightly, that it looks extremely bad for the so-called 'faithful' to break faith in such matters.

But in their part of the world, which is diametrically opposed to ours, no less in a social and moral than in a geographical sense, you can't rely on treaties at all. The more solemnly they're made, the sooner they're violated, by the simple process of discovering some loophole in the wording. Indeed, such loopholes are often incorporated deliberately in the original text, so that, no matter how binding one's commitments appear to be, one can always wriggle out of them, thus breaking both treaty and faith simultaneously. The fact is, such diplomacy is downright dishonest. If the very people who pride themselves on suggesting such tricks to their rulers found the same sort of thing going on in connection with a private contract, they'd be the first to denounce it, in shrill, self-righteous tones, as sacrilegious and criminal. The implication seems to be that honesty is a low plebeian virtue, far beneath the dignity of royalty—or at least that there are two kinds of honesty. One is suitable for ordinary people, a plodding hack which is kept securely tethered, so that it can't go leaping any fences. The other, reserved for kings, is a far nobler animal which enjoys far greater freedom—for it's allowed to do exactly what it likes.

Anyway, that's how kings behave out there, and that, as I was saying, is presumably why the Utopians make no treaties. Perhaps if they lived in Europe they'd change their minds—though actually they disapprove of treaties on principle, however scrupulously they're observed. They say treaties make people regard one another as natural enemies. The mere fact of living on different sides of a small hill or river is supposed to sever all ties of humanity, and justify two nations in trying to destroy each other, unless there's a special treaty to forbid it. And even if there is such a treaty, it still doesn't mean that they're friends, for they always retain the right to rob one another, in so far as the drafters of the treaty have carelessly failed to include enough provisions to the contrary. The Utopians take precisely the opposite view. They think no one should be regarded as an enemy who hasn't done you any harm. Human nature constitutes a treaty in itself, and human beings are far more effectively united by kindness than by contracts, by feelings than by words.

And that brings us to the subject of war. Well, fighting is a thing they absolutely loathe. They say it's a quite subhuman form of activity, although human beings are more addicted to it than any of the lower animals. In fact, the Utopians are practically the only people on earth who fail to see anything glorious in war. Of course, both sexes are given military training at regular intervals, so that they won't be incapable of fighting if they ever have to do it. But they hardly ever go to war, except in self-defence, to repel invaders from friendly territory, or to liberate the victims of dictatorship—which they do in a spirit of humanity, just because they feel sorry for them. However, they give military support to 'friendly powers', not only in defensive wars, but also in attempts to make reprisals for acts of aggression. This is always on condition that they're consulted well in advance, that they think the casus belli adequate, that compensation has been demanded and refused, and that the control of operations is left entirely to them. Their idea of an adequate casus belli includes more than robbery by force of arms. They take even stronger action to protect the rights of traders who are subjected to any kind of legal injustice in foreign countries, either as a result of unfair laws, or of fair ones deliberately misinterpreted.

That's how the war with Blindland started, a little before our time. The Utopians gave military aid to the Cloudians, because some Cloudian businessmen operating in Blindland had been the victims of some sort of legal fraud—or so the Utopians thought. Whether they were right or wrong, the result was a major war, for the bitterness of the original conflict was stepped up by the intervention of all the surrounding countries. By the time it was over, the strength of several great powers had been shattered, and others had sustained crippling losses. As for the Blindlanders, after a series of disasters they finally had to give in. The Utopians got nothing out of it—their motives were quite disinterested throughout—but the Blindlanders became the slaves of the Cloudians, who in the old days had been no match for them at all.

So you see how quick the Utopians are to avenge injuries done to their friends, even in money matters. But they're far more tolerant of injuries done to themselves. If a Utopian trader is cheated out of his goods, but suffers no physical injury, the strongest action they take is to suspend trade relations with the country concerned, until they receive compensation. Not that they care less about their own people—it's just that members of other nations are far more vulnerable to fraud, since it means the loss of their own private property, whereas a Utopian in similar circumstances loses nothing whatever. The loss is borne by the state. Besides, any goods lost are surplus to home requirements, or they'd never have been exported. So nobody feels any the worse for it—and they think it would be cruel to kill large numbers of people in revenge for something which hasn't made the slightest difference to the life or the livelihood of a single Utopian. But they take a very different line if one of their citizens is physically disabled or killed, either by a foreign government or by an individual foreigner. The moment they get news of such an incident through diplomatic channels, they immediately declare war. No form of appeasement has any effect, except the surrender of the people responsible—in which case they're sentenced to death or slavery.

They don't like bloody victories—in fact they feel ashamed of them, for they consider it stupid to pay too high a price for anything, however valuable it is. What they're really proud of is outwitting the enemy. They celebrate any success of this kind by a triumphal procession, and by putting up a trophy, as for some feat of heroism. You see, their idea of quitting themselves like men is to achieve victory by means of something which only man possesses, that is, by the power of the intellect. They say any animal can fight with its body—bears, lions, boars, wolves, dogs can all do it, and most of them are stronger and fiercer than we are—but what raises us above them is our reason and intelligence.

Their one aim in wartime is to get what they've previously failed to get by peaceful means—or, if that's out of the question, to punish the offenders so severely that nobody will ever dare to do such a thing again. They make for these objectives by the shortest possible route—but always on the principle of safety first, and national prestige second. So the moment war's declared they arrange through secret agents for lots of posters to go up simultaneously at all points on enemy territory where they're most likely to be seen. These posters carry the official seal of the Utopian government, and offer a huge reward for killing the enemy king. They also offer smaller, but still very considerable sums for killing certain individuals, whose names appear on a list, and who are presumed to be the chief supporters, after the king, of anti-Utopian policies. The reward for bringing such people in alive is twice as much as for killing them—and they themselves are offered the same amount of money, plus a free pardon, for turning against their own associates.

The immediate result is that everyone mentioned on the list becomes suspicious of everything in human shape. They all stop trusting one another, and stop being trustworthy. They live in a constant state of terror, which is perfectly justified—for it's often been known to happen that all of them, including the king himself, are betrayed by the very person that they pinned most faith on. The fact is, people will do anything for money, and there's no limit to the amount of money that the Utopians are prepared to give. Bearing in mind the risks that they're inviting each traitor to run, they're very careful to offer him compensating advantages. So, in addition to vast quantities of gold, they also promise him the freehold of a valuable estate in safe and friendly territory—and such promises they invariably keep.

This system of making take-over bids for the enemy is generally considered mean and cruel, but the Utopians are very proud of it. They say it's extremely sensible to dispose of major wars like this without fighting a single battle, and also most humane to save thousands of innocent lives at the cost of a few guilty ones. They're thinking of all the soldiers who would have been killed in action, on one side or the other—for they feel almost as much sympathy for the mass of the enemy population as they do for their own. They realize that these people would never have started a war if they hadn't been forced into it by the insanity of their rulers.

If this method fails, they sow and foster the seeds of discord among their enemies, by encouraging the king's brother or some other member of the aristocracy to aspire to the throne. If internal dissension shows signs of flagging, they inflame hostility in some adjacent country by digging up one of those ancient claims that kings are always so well provided with. They promise to support the claimant's war effort, and do it by supplying plenty of money and very little manpower—for they're much too fond of one another to be willing to sacrifice a single Utopian citizen, even in exchange for the enemy king himself. But they're perfectly happy to hand out silver and gold, because that's all they keep it for, and they know it won't make any difference to their standard of living if they spend the whole lot. Besides, quite apart from their capital at home, they possess vast foreign assets, for, as I explained before, a great many countries owe them money.

So most of their fighting is done by mercenaries. They recruit them from all over the world, but especially from a place called Venalia, which is about five hundred miles to the east of Utopia. The Venalians are extremely primitive and savage—like the wild forests and rugged mountains among which they grow up. They're very tough, and can stand any amount of heat, cold, and physical hardship. They've no idea of enjoying themselves, never do any farming, and are equally careless about their clothes and their houses. Apart from looking after cattle, they live mostly by hunting and stealing. In fact, they seem naturally designed for nothing but war. They're always looking for a war to fight in, and when they succeed in finding one they go rushing off in their thousands to offer their services cheap to anyone who needs soldiers. For taking lives is the only method they know of earning a living.

They fight for their employers with great loyalty and zeal, but won't guarantee how long they'll continue to do so. They join you on the understanding that they'll join your enemy tomorrow, if he'll pay them better, and be back with you the day after that, if you'll give them a little bit more. There aren't many wars in which you won't find that most of the soldiers on each side are Venalians. So you can imagine the sort of thing that's always happening. Two members of a family enlist in the same army. For a while they're the best of friends—the next moment they're on opposite sides, and going for one another like deadly enemies. All ties of blood and friendship are forgotten, and they're busy cutting each other's throats. And yet their only motive for mutual destruction is the fact that different kings are paying them small sums of money—and money means such a lot to them that an extra halfpenny a day is quite enough to make them change sides. But although they yield so quickly to the temptations of avarice, they get nothing out of it, for what they earn by bloodshed they immediately spend on debauchery of the most squalid type.

These people will fight for the Utopians against any nation in the world, because no one else is prepared to pay them so much. You see, the Utopians are just as anxious to find wicked men to exploit as good men to employ. So when necessary they tempt Venalians with lavish promises to engage in desperate enterprises, from which most of them never come back to claim their earnings. But those who do are always paid in full, so that they'll think it worth while to take similar risks in future. For the Utopians don't care how many Venalians they send to their deaths. They say, if only they could wipe the filthy scum off the face of the earth completely, they'd be doing the human race a very good turn.

Their second source of manpower is the nation for whose benefit they've gone to war. Next come contingents supplied by other friendly powers, and last of all their own citizens, from whom they choose a man of proved ability to command the combined forces. They also keep two others standing by, who have no particular duties so long as the general is all right. But if he's killed or taken prisoner, one of them inherits his command—and, if necessary, the other takes over from him. This is to allow for the changing fortunes of war, and ensure that the whole army won't become disorganized, no matter what happens to the general.

The Utopian contingent is made up of volunteers from every town—for no one is conscripted for military service abroad. They feel that nervous people are not only unlikely to make good soldiers, but also apt to lower the morale of those around them. However, in case of invasion, able-bodied men of this type are either drafted into the navy, to serve alongside more reliable personnel, or posted at intervals on some city wall, where they've no chance of running away. When they actually come face to face with the enemy, respect for public opinion, combined with the fact that there's simply no escape, usually overcomes their fear, and in the last resort they often fight like heroes.

But nobody's forced to fight overseas, and similarly no wife is forced to stay at home, if she'd rather go with her husband to the front. On the contrary, that sort of thing is much encouraged and admired. Any such wife is stationed immediately beside her husband on the battlefield, along with his children and the rest of his relations. The idea is that those who have the strongest natural instinct to help one another should be enabled to do so, by being kept as close together as possible. It's a terrible disgrace for a husband to come back without his wife, or a wife without her husband, or a child without its parents. This means that once their forces are engaged, they go on fighting to the bitter end—that is, if the enemy is prepared to stick it out. So long as they're able to wage war by proxy, the Utopians do everything they can to keep out of action, but when they're finally compelled to fight their courage is fully equal to their previous caution.

They don't fly into a fury at the first attack, but gradually, as time goes on, they grow more and more determined, until they'd rather die than yield an inch. They know there's no need to worry about food for their families, or about their children's future—two sources of anxiety that usually tend to undermine a soldier's morale—and this gives them a lofty contempt for the very idea of defeat. Their confidence is also increased by their military training. And finally they're fortified by the sound principles which they absorbed in childhood, both from their education and from their social environment. These ensure that they value life too much to throw it recklessly away, but not enough to cling on to it in a mean and cowardly manner, when it's their duty to give it up.

When the battle is at its height, a group of specially selected young men, who have sworn to stick together, try to knock out the enemy general. They keep hammering away at him by every possible method—frontal attacks, ambushes, long-range archery, hand-to-hand combat. They bear down on him in a long, unbroken wedge-formation, the point of which is constantly renewed as tired men are replaced by fresh ones. As a result, the general is nearly always killed or taken prisoner—unless he saves his skin by running away.

If the Utopians win a battle, they don't go in for any massacres. Once they've got the enemy on the run they prefer capturing to killing. They also make it a rule never to start off in pursuit, unless they can keep at least one line of troops drawn up in battle formation. They're so strict about this that, if they fail to win a battle until their rearguard goes into action, they're prepared to let the whole enemy army escape rather than establish a precedent for breaking ranks in order to pursue it. You see, they never forget a trick that they've played several times themselves. On each of these occasions the main Utopian army had been totally defeated, and the enemies were triumphantly chasing stragglers about in all directions. At this point the entire outcome of the battle was reversed by a handful of Utopians who'd been stationed in reserve. Watching for their opportunity, they suddenly counter-attacked the scattered enemy troops, who were taking no precautions, because they thought they were safe. Thus certain victory was wrested from the enemy's grasp, and the vanquished became the victors.

It's hard to say which are more cunning, their offensive or their defensive tactics. You may think they're going to retire, when it's the last thing they have in mind—and when they've really decided to do so, you'd never think it to look at them. If they feel seriously outnumbered or handicapped by the terrain, they decamp during the night without a sound, or find some other method of deluding the enemy. Or else they withdraw in daylight, but do it so gradually, and preserve such perfect formation, that they're just as dangerous to attack while retreating as while advancing.

They're always careful to fortify their camp with a very deep, broad trench, throwing the earth from inside to form a rampart. For this job they don't rely on slave labour. The soldiers do it themselves, which means every soldier in the army, except for a few armed sentries who are posted in front of the rampart to watch out for emergencies. With so many hands at work, they can get a large area effectively fortified in an incredibly short time.

Their armour is strong enough to give adequate protection, but yields to every movement of the body. It doesn't even interfere with swimming—in fact they practise swimming in armour from a very early stage of their military training. Their long-range weapons are arrows, which cavalry as well as infantry learn to discharge with great force and accuracy. For close combat they use not swords but battle-axes, which because of their weight and sharpness are equally deadly for slashing or for stabbing. They also invent and manufacture most ingenious mechanical weapons, which are carefully kept out of sight until it's time to put them into action—otherwise such things are liable to be treated as a joke, and are therefore less effective. In designing this type of apparatus they concentrate particularly on making it mobile and easy to operate.

Once they've signed an armistice, they never break it, however much they've provoked. They never devastate enemy territory, or burn corn growing on it—for they regard such corn as being grown for their own benefit, so they do all they can to ensure that it's not trampled down either by their cavalry or by their infantry. They never hurt an unarmed man, unless he's a spy. They give protection to any town that surrenders, and even if they have to take it by storm they still don't loot it. They merely kill those responsible for its failure to surrender, and enslave the rest of the garrison. The whole civilian population remains untouched. Anyone known to have spoken in favour of surrender is given part of the property left by those condemned to death or slavery. The residue is presented to the allied forces—for nobody in Utopia gets any share of the spoil.

When the war's over, they send in the bill, not to the friendly powers for whose sake the expenses were incurred, but to the defeated enemy. They demand to be paid partly in cash, which is put aside for use in future wars, and partly in freeholds of valuable estates on enemy territory. Thus they've acquired property in many different countries, and the resultant income, built up gradually from various sources, has now reached the equivalent of more than £327,000 per annum. To each of these countries they send out Utopian citizens, nominally to act as rent-collectors, but actually to live there in grand style and play the part of distinguished local residents. Still, there's plenty of money left over to pay into the Exchequer, unless they prefer to lend it to the country concerned, which they often do, until such time as they actually need it themselves—and even then they very seldom call in the whole amount. Some of these estates they make over to individuals whom they've persuaded to take the sort of risks that I mentioned before.

If any king goes to war with them and prepares to invade their territory, they send off a large force to intercept him before he reaches the frontier—for they never fight on their own soil if they can help it, and in no circumstances will they allow allied troops to set foot on the island itself.

Finally, let me tell you about their religious ideas. There are several different religions on the island, and indeed in each town. There are sun-worshippers, moon-worshippers, and worshippers of various other planets. There are people who regard some great or good man of the past not merely as a god, but as the supreme god. However, the vast majority take the much more sensible view that there is a single divine power, unknown, eternal, infinite, inexplicable, and quite beyond the grasp of the human mind, diffused throughout this universe of ours, not as a physical substance, but as an active force. This power they call 'The Parent'. They give Him credit for everything that happens to everything, for all beginnings and ends, all growth, development, and change. Nor do they recognize any other form of deity.

On this point, indeed, all the different sects agree—that there is one Supreme Being, Who is responsible for the creation and management of the universe, and they all use the same Utopian word to describe Him: Mythras. What they disagree about is, who Mythras is. Some say one thing, some another—but everyone claims that his Supreme Being is identical with Nature, that tremendous power which is internationally acknowledged to be the sole cause of everything. However, people are gradually tending to drift away from all these inferior creeds, and to unite in adopting what seems to be the most reasonable religion. And doubtless the others would have died out long ago if it weren't for the superstitious tendency to interpret any bad luck, when one's thinking of changing one's religion, not as a coincidence, but as a judgement from heaven—as though the discarded god were punishing one's disloyalty.

But when we told them about Christ, His teaching, His character, His miracles, and the no less miraculous devotion of all the martyrs who, by voluntarily shedding their blood, converted so many nations to the Christian faith, you've no idea how easy it was to convert them too. Perhaps they were unconsciously influenced by some divine inspiration, or perhaps it was because Christianity seemed so very like their own principal religion—though I should imagine they were also considerably affected by the information that Christ prescribed of His own disciples a communist way of life, which is still practised today in all the most truly Christian communities. Anyway, whatever the explanation, quite a lot of Utopians adopted our religion, and were baptized.

Unfortunately none of us four was a priest—yes, there were only four of us left—the other two had died. So though they've been admitted to all the other rites of the Church, our converts haven't yet received the sacraments that only priests can administer. But they understand about them, and want them more than anything on earth. In fact, just now they're busy discussing whether it would be in order for one of them to be ordained priest, without sending for a Christian bishop to perform the ceremony. And it certainly looked as if they were going to choose a candidate for the job, though they hadn't actually done so by the time I left.

Of course, many Utopians refuse to accept Christianity, but even they make no attempt to discourage other people from adopting it, or to attack those who do—though there was one member of our congregation who got into trouble while I was there. Immediately after his baptism, in spite of all our advice to the contrary, this man started giving public lectures on the Christian faith, in which he showed rather more zeal than discretion. Eventually he got so worked up that, not content with asserting the superiority of our religion, he went so far as to condemn all others. He kept shouting at the top of his voice that they were all vile superstitions, and that all who believed in them were monsters of impiety, destined to be punished in hell-fire for ever. When he'd been going on like this for some time, he was arrested and charged, not with blasphemy, but with disturbance of the peace. He was duly convicted and sentenced to exile—for one of the most ancient principles of their constitution is religious toleration.

This principle dates right back to the time of the Conquest. Up till then there'd been constant quarrels about religion, and the various warring sects had refused to cooperate in the defence of their country. When Utopos heard how they'd behaved, he realized that this was why he'd been able to conquer the whole lot of them. So immediately after his victory he made a law, by which everyone was free to practise what religion he liked, and to try and convert other people to his own faith, provided he did it quietly and politely, by rational argument. But, if he failed to convince them, he was not allowed to make bitter attacks on other religions, nor to employ violence or personal abuse. The normal penalty for being too aggressive in religious controversy is either exile or slavery.

Utopos made this law, not only to preserve the peace, which he saw being completely destroyed by endless disputes and implacable feuds, but also because he thought it was in the best interests of religion itself. He didn't presume to say which creed was right. Apparently he considered it possible that God made different people believe different things, because He wanted to be worshipped in many different ways. But he was evidently quite certain that it was stupid and arrogant to bully everyone else into adopting one's own particular creed. It seemed to him perfectly obvious that, even if there was only one true religion, and all the rest were nonsense, truth would eventually prevail of its own accord—as long as the matter was discussed calmly and reasonably. But if it was decided by force of arms, the best and most spiritual type of religion would go down before the silliest forms of superstition, just as corn is liable to be overgrown by thorns and brambles—for the worst people are always the most obstinate.

So he left the choice of creed an open question, to be decided by the individual according to his own ideas—except that he strictly and solemnly forbade his people to believe anything so incompatible with human dignity as the doctrine that the soul dies with the body, and the universe functions aimlessly, without any controlling providence. That's why they feel so sure that there must be rewards and punishments after death. Anyone who thinks differently has, in their view, forfeited his right to be classed as a human being, by degrading his immortal soul to the level of an animal's body. Still less do they regard him as a Utopian citizen. They say a person like that doesn't really care a damn for the Utopian way of life—only he's too frightened to say so. For it stands to reason, if you're not afraid of anything but prosecution, and have no hopes of anything after you're dead, you'll always be trying to evade or break the laws of your country, in order to gain your own private ends. So nobody who subscribes to this doctrine is allowed to receive any public honour, hold any public appointment, or work in any public service. In fact such people are generally regarded as utterly contemptible.

They're not punished in any way, though, for no one is held responsible for what he believes. Nor are they terrorized into concealing their views, because Utopians simply can't stand hypocrisy, which they consider practically equivalent to fraud. Admittedly, it's illegal for any such person to argue in defence of his beliefs, but that's only in public. In private discussions with priests or other serious-minded characters, he's not merely allowed but positively encouraged to do so, for everyone's convinced that this type of delusion will eventually yield to reason.

Indeed there are some Utopians—quite a lot of them actually—who, so far from being materialists, go to the opposite extreme. Of course, there's no law against them, for they have a certain amount of reason on their side, and are quite decent characters in themselves. These people believe that animals have immortal souls too, though much inferior to ours, and designed for happiness on a lower plane. As for the infinite happiness in store for human beings, practically everyone feels so sure of it that, although they always mourn for an illness, they never mourn for a death—unless the person in question was obviously uneasy and unwilling to let go of life. This they regard as a very bad sign. It seems to suggest that the soul is conscious of its own guilt, and has gloomy forebodings of punishment to come—hence its terror of dying. Besides, they doubt if God will be at all pleased to see someone who, instead of running gladly to answer His summons, has to be dragged into His presence by force. So they shudder to see a death of this type, and perform the funeral rites in sorrowful silence. They merely say, 'God have mercy on his soul, and forgive his weaknesses.' Then they bury the body.

But when a person dies in a cheerful and optimistic mood, nobody mourns for him. They sing for joy at his funeral, and lovingly commend his soul to God. Finally, more in a spirit of reverence than of grief, they cremate the body, and mark the spot by a column engraved with an epitaph. Then they go home and discuss the dead man's character and career, and there's nothing in his life that they dwell on with such pleasure as the happy state of mind in which he left it. This method of recalling his good qualities is thought the best way of encouraging similar virtues in the living, and also of pleasing the dead—for the subject of these discussions is believed to be present at them, though invisible to human eyes. After all, perfect happiness implies complete freedom of movement, and no one with any feeling would stop wanting to see his friends when he died, if they'd been really fond of one another while he was alive. On the contrary, the Utopians assume that a good man's capacity for affection, like every other good thing about him, is increased rather than diminished by death. So they believe that the dead mix freely with the living, and observe everything they say and do. In fact they regard them almost as guardian angels, and this gives them greater confidence in tackling all their problems. Also, the sense of their ancestors' presence discourages any bad behaviour in private.

They pay no attention to omens, fortune-telling, or any of the superstitious practices that are taken so seriously in other countries. In fact they treat them as a joke. But they have a great respect for miracles which aren't attributable to natural causes, because they see them as evidence of God's presence and power. They say such miracles often happen there. Indeed at moments of crisis the whole country prays for a miracle, and their faith is so great that the prayer is sometimes answered.

Most Utopians feel they can please God merely by studying the natural world, and praising Him for it. But quite a lot of them are led by their religion to neglect the pursuit of knowledge. They're not interested in science—they simply have no time for that sort of thing, since they believe that the only way to earn happiness after death is to spend one's life doing good works. Some of them look after invalids, while others mend roads, clean out ditches, repair bridges, dig up turf, sand, or stone, cut down and saw up trees, or cart such things as timber and corn into the towns. In short, they behave like servants, and work harder than slaves, not only for the community, but also for private individuals. They cheerfully undertake all the rough, dirty, and difficult jobs that the average person fights shy of, either because of the physical effort involved, or just because he dislikes them, or despairs of ever getting them done. Thus they create leisure for other people by working ceaselessly themselves—and yet they take no credit for it. They never find fault with other ways of life, or boast about their own. So the more they make slaves of themselves, the more everybody respects them.

They're divided into two sects, of which one believes in celibacy. Its members are total abstainers, not only from sexual intercourse, but also from meat, and in some cases from every form of animal food. They renounce all the pleasures of this life, which they regard as sinful, and yearn only for the life to come. This they try to earn by the sweat of their brows, and by going without sleep—but the hope of reaching it any day now keeps them lively and cheerful. The other sect, though equally keen on hard work, approves of marriage, on the grounds that its comforts are not to be despised, and that procreation is a duty which one owes both to nature and to one's country. They have no objection to pleasure, so long as it doesn't interfere with work. On that principle they eat a lot of meat, because they think it enables them to work harder. They're generally considered more sensible than the others, though the others are thought more devout. Of course, if the members of the first sect tried to justify their behaviour on logical grounds, they'd merely be laughed at. But as they admit that their motives are religious rather than rational, they're regarded with great reverence—for Utopians are always extremely careful to avoid rash judgements in the matter of religion. People who belong to this sect are known in their own language as Cowparsons which may be roughly translated, Lay Brethren.

All their priests are exceptionally pious, which means that there are very few of them—normally thirteen per town, or one per church. But in wartime seven of the thirteen go off with the troops, and seven more priests are ordained as temporary substitutes. When the army chaplains return, they get back their old livings, and the extra priests remain on the staff of the Bishop—for one of the thirteen is given this status—until they succeed, one by one, to vacancies created by the death of the original incumbents.

Priests are elected by the whole community. The election is by secret ballot, as it is for all public appointments, to prevent the formation of pressure groups, and the successful candidates are then ordained by their colleagues. Priests are responsible for conducting services, organizing religions, and supervising morals. It's considered very shameful to be had up before an ecclesiastical court, or even reprimanded by a priest for bad behaviour. Of course, the actual suppression and punishment of crime is the job of the Mayor and other public officials. Priests merely give advice and warning—though they can also excommunicate persistent offenders, and there's hardly any punishment that people fear more. You see, a person who has been excommunicated is not only completely disgraced and racked with fears of divine vengeance. His physical security is threatened too, for, unless he can very soon convince the priests that he's a reformed character, he's arrested and punished by the Council for impiety.

Priests are also responsible for the education of children and adolescents, in which quite as much stress is laid on moral as on academic training. They do their utmost to ensure that, while children are still at an impressionable age, they're given the right ideas about things—the sort of ideas best calculated to preserve the structure of their society. If thoroughly absorbed in childhood, these ideas will persist throughout adult life, and so contribute greatly to the safety of the state, which is never seriously threatened except by moral defects arising from wrong ideas.

Male priests are allowed to marry—for there's nothing to stop a woman from becoming a priest, although women aren't often chosen for the job, and only elderly widows are eligible. As a matter of fact, clergymen's wives form the cream of Utopian society, for no public figure is respected more than a priest. So much so that, even if a priest commits a crime, he's not liable to prosecution. They just leave him to God and his own conscience, since, no matter what he has done, they don't think it right for any human being to lay hands on a man who has been dedicated as a special offering to God. They find this rule quite easy to keep, because priests represent such a tiny minority, and because they're so carefully chosen. After all, it's not really very likely that a man who has come out top of a list of excellent candidates, and who owes his appointment entirely to his moral character, should suddenly become vicious and corrupt. And even if we must accept that possibility—human nature being so very unpredictable—a mere handful of people without any executive power can hardly constitute a serious danger to the community. They keep the numbers down, in order not to lower the present high prestige of the priesthood, by making the honour less of a rarity—especially as they say it's hard to find many people suitable for a profession which demands considerably more than average virtues.

The reputation of Utopian priests is just as good abroad as it is at home. The evidence and, I think, the reason for this may be found in what happens on the battlefield. While the fighting is in progress, the priests kneel a short way off, wearing their holy vestments, and hold up their hands to heaven. They pray first for peace, and then for a bloodless victory—bloodless on both sides. As soon as their own troops start getting the best of it, the priests hurry on to the battlefield and stop all unnecessary violence. Once they appear on the scene, an enemy soldier can save his life simply by calling out to them, and, if he can manage to touch their flowing robes, his property too is safe from any sort of war damage. This earns them so much respect in every country, and gives them so much genuine authority, that they've often been able to protect their own soldiers quite as effectively as they normally protect the enemy's. Sometimes, at desperate moments when the Utopian forces were in full retreat, and their enemies were rushing after them, intent on killing and looting, the intervention of the priests has been known to prevent a massacre, part the combatants, and bring about the conclusion of a peace on equal terms. For the person of a Utopian priest is universally regarded as sacred and inviolable even among the most savage and barbarous nations.

They have religious festivals on the first and last days of each month, and also of each year—their calendar, by the way, is based on the solar year, divided into lunar months. These first days are called Dogdates in their language, and the last ones Turndates—in other words, Beginning Feasts and Ending Feasts.

Their churches look most impressive, not only because they're so beautifully built, but also because of their size. You see, as there are so few of them, they have to be capable of holding vast numbers of people. However, they're all rather dark, which is not, I'm told, a mistake on the part of the architects, but a matter of policy. The priests think that too much light tends to distract one's attention, whereas a sort of twilight helps one to collect one's thoughts, and intensifies religious feeling. Now this doesn't take the same form with everyone, though all its varieties lead by different routes, as it were, to the same destination: the worship of the Divine Being. For that reason, there's nothing to be seen or heard in their churches which can't equally well be applied to all religions. Any ceremonies which are peculiar to individual sects are performed privately at home, and public services are so arranged as not to detract in any way from these private ones.

On the same principle, their churches contain no visual representations of God, so that everyone's left free to imagine Him in whatever shape he chooses, according to which religion he thinks the best. Nor is God addressed by any special names there. He is simply called Mythras, a general term used by everybody to designate the Supreme Being, whoever He may be. Similarly, no prayers are said in which each member of the congregation cannot join without prejudice to his own particular creed.

At Ending Feasts they fast all day, and go to church in the evening, to thank God for bringing them safely to the end of the year or month in question. Next day, which is of course a Beginning Feast, they meet at church in the morning to pray for happiness and prosperity during the year or month which has just begun. But before going to church at an Ending Feast, wives kneel down at home before their husbands, and children before their parents, to confess all their sins of omission and commission, and ask to be forgiven. This gets rid of any little grudges that may have clouded the domestic atmosphere, so that everyone can attend divine service with an absolutely clear mind. To do so when one is feeling upset is thought positively blasphemous. For that reason, anyone who's conscious of feeling anger or resentment towards another person stays away from church until he's made it up, and purged himself of these unpleasant emotions, for fear of being promptly and severely punished otherwise.

As they enter the church, the men turn to the right and the women to the left, and the seating is so arranged that the males of each household are in front of the house-father, and the house-mother acts as a rearguard for the females. This ensures that everyone's conduct in public is watched by those who are responsible for his discipline at home. Here too they take great care to see that a young person always sits next to an older one—for if children are left to themselves they're apt to waste their time in church playing childish games, when they ought above all to be developing a sense of religious awe, the strongest, if not the only incentive to good behaviour.

They never sacrifice any animals, for they can't imagine a merciful God enjoying slaughter and bloodshed. They say God gave His creatures life, because He wanted them to live. But they do make certain burnt offerings—of incense and other aromatic substances, and of innumerable candles. Of course they realize that such things are no use to the Divine Being, but they see no harm in them as a form of tribute, and feel that these scents and lights and other elements of ritual somehow raise people's thoughts, and make them more eager to worship God.

The congregation is dressed in white, and the priest wears multi-coloured vestments, magnificent in workmanship and design, but made of quite cheap materials—for instead of being woven with gold thread, or encrusted with rare jewels, they're merely decorated with the feathers of various birds. On the other hand, their value as works of art is far greater than that of the richest material in the world. Besides, the feathers are arranged in special patterns which are said to symbolize certain divine truths, and the priests are careful to teach the meaning of these hieroglyphics, since they serve to remind worshippers of God's favours towards them, of their duty towards Him in return, and of their duty towards one another.

The moment the priest appears from the sanctuary wearing these vestments, everyone bows down to the ground in reverence, and there is deep silence throughout the building. The effect is so awe-inspiring that one almost seems to feel a divine presence. After a few minutes the priest gives a sign for the congregation to stand up. Then they sing hymns of praise to God, accompanied by musical instruments, which are generally quite different from anything to be seen in our part of the world. Most of these have a much sweeter tone than ours, though some of them simply won't bear comparison with European instruments. But in one respect they're undoubtedly far ahead of us. All their music, both vocal and instrumental, is wonderfully expressive of natural feelings. The sound is so well adapted to the sense that whether the theme is prayer or rejoicing, agitation or calm, sorrow or anger, the melodic line exactly represents the appropriate emotion. It therefore enters deeply into the hearer's consciousness, and has an extraordinarily stimulating effect.

The service ends with a set form of prayer repeated by both priests and congregation. It's worded in such a way that, while they're all saying it together, each person can apply it to himself. It goes something like this:

O God, I acknowledge Thee to be my creator, my governor, and the source of all good things. I thank Thee for all Thy blessings, but especially for letting me live in the happiest possible society, and practise what I hope is the truest religion. If I am wrong, and if some other religion or social system would be better and more acceptable to Thee, I pray Thee in Thy goodness to let me know it, for I am ready to follow wherever Thou shalt lead me. But if our system is indeed the best, and my religion the truest, then keep me faithful to both of them, and bring the rest of humanity to adopt the same way of life, and the same religious faith—unless the present variety of creeds is part of Thy inscrutable purpose. Grant me an easy death, when Thou takest me to Thyself. I do not presume to suggest whether it should be late or soon. But if it is Thy will, I would much rather come to Thee by a most painful death, than be kept too long away from Thee by the most pleasant of earthly lives.

After saying this prayer, they again bow down to the ground for a few moments, and then get up and go off to lunch. The rest of the day is spent in recreation and military training.

Well, that's the most accurate account I can give you of the Utopian Republic. To my mind, it's not only the best country in the world, but the only one that has any right to call itself a republic. Elsewhere, people are always talking about the public interest, but all they really care about is private property. In Utopia, where there's no private property, people take their duty to the public seriously. And both attitudes are perfectly reasonable. In other 'republics' practically everyone knows that, if he doesn't look out for himself, he'll starve to death, however prosperous his country may be. He's therefore compelled to give his own interests priority over those of the public; that is, of other people. But in Utopia, where everything's under public ownership, no one has any fear of going short, as long as the public storehouses are full. Everyone gets a fair share, so there are never any poor men or beggars. Nobody owns anything, but everyone is rich—for what greater wealth can there be than cheerfulness, peace of mind, and freedom from anxiety? Instead of being worried about his food supply, upset by the plaintive demands of his wife, afraid of poverty for his son, and baffled by the problem of finding a dowry for his daughter, the Utopian can feel absolutely sure that he, his wife, his children, his grand-children, his great-grandchildren, his great-great-grandchildren, and as long a line of descendants as the proudest peer could wish to look forward to, will always have enough to eat and enough to make them happy. There's also the further point that those who are too old to work are just as well provided for as those who are still working.

Now, will anyone venture to compare these fair arrangements in Utopia with the so-called justice of other countries?—in which I'm damned if I can see the slightest trace of justice or fairness. For what sort of justice do you call this? People like aristocrats, goldsmiths, or money-lenders, who either do no work at all, or do work that's really not essential, are rewarded for their laziness or their unnecessary activities by a splendid life of luxury. But labourers, coachmen, carpenters, and farmhands, who never stop working like cart-horses, at jobs so essential that, if they did stop working, they'd bring any country to a standstill within twelve months—what happens to them? They get so little to eat, and have such a wretched time, that they'd be almost better off if they were cart-horses. Then, at least, they wouldn't work quite such long hours, their food wouldn't be very much worse, they'd enjoy it more, and they'd have no fears for the future. As it is, they're not only ground down by unrewarding toil in the present, but also worried to death by the prospect of a poverty-stricken old age—since their daily wages aren't enough to support them for one day, let alone leave anything over to be saved up for when they're old.

Can you see any fairness or gratitude in a social system which lavishes such great rewards on so-called noblemen, goldsmiths, and people like that, who are either totally unproductive or merely employed in producing luxury goods or entertainment, but makes no such kind provision for farm-hands, coal-heavers, labourers, carters, or carpenters, without whom society couldn't exist at all? And the climax of ingratitude comes when they're old and ill and completely destitute. Having taken advantage of them throughout the best years of their lives, society now forgets all the sleepless hours they've spent in its service, and repays them for all the vital work they've done, by letting them die in misery. What's more, the wretched earnings of the poor are daily whittled away by the rich, not only through private dishonesty, but through public legislation. As if it weren't unjust enough already that the man who contributes most to society should get the least in return, they make it even worse, and then arrange for injustice to be legally described as justice.

In fact, when I consider any social system that prevails in the modern world, I can't, so help me God, see it as anything but a conspiracy of the rich to advance their own interests under the pretext of organizing society. They think up all sorts of tricks and dodges, first for keeping safe their ill-gotten gains, and then for exploiting the poor by buying their labour as cheaply as possible. Once the rich have decided that these tricks and dodges shall be officially recognized by society—which includes the poor as well as the rich—they acquire the force of law. Thus an unscrupulous minority is led by its insatiable greed to monopolize what would have been enough to supply the needs of the whole population. And yet how much happier even these people would be in Utopia! There, with the simultaneous abolition of money and the passion for money, how many other social problems have been solved, how many crimes eradicated! For obviously the end of money means the end of all those types of criminal behaviour which daily punishments are powerless to check: fraud, theft, burglary, brawls, riots, disputes, rebellion, murder, treason, and black magic. And the moment money goes, you can also say good-bye to fear, tension, anxiety, overwork, and sleepless nights. Why, even poverty itself, the one problem that has always seemed to need money for its solution, would promptly disappear if money ceased to exist.

Let me try to make this point clearer. Just think back to one of the years when the harvest was bad, and thousands of people died of starvation. Well, I bet if you'd inspected every rich man's barn at the end of that lean period you'd have found enough corn to have saved all the lives that were lost through malnutrition and disease, and prevented anyone from suffering any ill effects whatever from the meanness of the weather and the soil. Everyone could so easily get enough to eat, if it weren't for that blessed nuisance, money. There you have a brilliant invention which was designed to make food more readily available. Actually it's the only thing that makes it unobtainable.

I'm sure that even the rich are well aware of all this, and realize how much better it would be to have everything one needed, than lots of things one didn't need—to be evacuated altogether from the danger area, than to dig oneself in behind a barricade of enormous wealth. And I've no doubt that either self-interest, or the authority of our Saviour Christ—Who was far too wise not to know what was best for us, and far too kind to recommend anything else—would have led the whole world to adopt the Utopian system long ago, if it weren't for that beastly root of all evils, pride. For pride's criterion of prosperity is not what you've got yourself, but what other people haven't got. Pride would refuse to set foot in paradise, if she thought there'd be no under-privileged classes there to gloat over and order about—nobody whose misery could serve as a foil to her own happiness, or whose poverty she could make harder to bear, by flaunting her own riches. Pride, like a hellish serpent gliding through human hearts—or, shall we say, like a sucking-fish that clings to the ship of state?—is always dragging us back, and obstructing our progress towards a better way of life.

But as this fault is too deeply ingrained in human nature to be easily eradicated, I'm glad that at least one country has managed to develop a system which I'd like to see universally adopted. The Utopian way of life provides not only the happiest basis for a civilized community, but also one which, in all human probability, will last for ever. They've eliminated the root-causes of ambition, political conflict, and everything like that. There's therefore no danger of internal dissension, the one thing that has destroyed so many impregnable towns. And as long as there's unity and sound administration at home, no matter how envious neighbouring kings may feel, they'll never be able to shake, let alone to shatter, the power of Utopia. They've tried to do so often enough in the past, but have always been beaten back.

While Raphael was telling us all this, I kept thinking of various objections. The laws and customs of that country seemed to me in many cases perfectly ridiculous. Quite apart from such things as their military tactics, religions, and forms of worship, there was the grand absurdity on which their whole society was based, communism minus money. Now this in itself would mean the end of the aristocracy, and consequently of all dignity, splendour, and majesty, which are generally supposed to be the real glories of any nation.

However, I could see that he was tired after talking so much, and I was not quite sure how tolerant he would be of any opinion that contradicted his own—especially when I remembered his sarcastic reference to the sort of person who is afraid of looking a fool if he cannot pick holes in other people's ideas. So I just made some polite remarks about the Utopian system, and thanked him for his interesting talk—after which I took his arm and led him in to supper, saying:

'Well, I must think it over. Then perhaps we can meet again and discuss it at greater length.'

I certainly hope we shall, some day. In the meantime I cannot agree with everything that he said, for all his undoubted learning and experience. But I freely admit that there are many features of the Utopian Republic which I should like—though I hardly expect—to see adopted in Europe.

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有效工作与无效劳动：英汉双语/（英）莫里斯著；沙丽金，黄姗译. —北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2012. 9

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3333-9

Ⅰ.①有… Ⅱ.①莫… ②沙… ③黄… Ⅲ.①英语—汉语—对照读物②工艺美术史—英国—近代 Ⅳ.①H319.4:J

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未经允许，不得擅用。

中国对外翻译出版有限公司与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

观 念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of thebook's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

威廉·莫里斯（William Morris, 1834 - 1896）是19世纪英国设计师、诗人、早期社会主义活动家及自学成才的工匠。他设计、监制或亲手制造的家具、纺织品、花窗玻璃、壁纸以及其他各类装饰品引发了工艺美术运动，改变了维多利亚时代以来的流行品味。作为工艺美术运动的奠基人，莫里斯是真正实现约翰·罗斯金思想的一位重要设计先驱，是拉斐尔前派的主要成员。他一方面否定机械化、工业化风格，另一方面否定装饰过度的维多利亚风格，他的目的是复兴旧时代风格，特别是中世纪、哥特式风格。莫里斯认为只有复兴哥特式风格和中世纪的行会精神才能挽救设计，保持民族的、民俗的、高品位的设计。对他来说，无论是古典风格还是现代风格，都不足取，唯一可以依赖的就是中世纪、哥特、自然主义这三种风格。他反复强调设计的两个基本原则，一是产品设计和建筑设计是为大众服务的；二是设计工作必须是集体的活动，而非个体活动。这两个原则在后来的现代主义设计中发扬光大。

本书共含四篇文章，均为威廉·莫里斯先生的演讲稿。1884年1月，莫里斯第一次发表了题为《有效工作与无效劳动》的演讲，在分析资本主义社会劳动的基础上，提出劳动乐趣的丧失导致了人与自然关系的扭曲，进而揭示了劳动乐趣丧失的深层原因在于资本主义的竞争性商业贸易和对利润的无止境追求。他认为资本主义社会下的劳动是无效劳动，不能为自身带来快乐和成就感，甚至连最基本的休息权利都无法获得。他呼吁劳动应该是荣誉和满足感的源泉，每个人都应该平等地劳动，在合理的社会分工下，让劳动成为实现个人价值的、快乐的有效劳动。

《哥特式建筑》是1889年莫里斯发表的一篇演讲，在此文中莫里斯阐释了建筑与历史的密切关系，他表示就社会因素而言，建筑是人类生活的组成部分，就政治因素而言，建筑反映一个国家的政治体制和商业面貌。他指出真正的建筑艺术是广大人民群众共同创造的，它能够反映社会生活中的细微变化。

《平凡而重要的艺术》是1877年莫里斯的一篇演讲稿，此次演讲通过介绍装饰艺术的特征和价值，呼吁人们重新重视装饰艺术并复兴已经被工业革命摧毁的手工业传统。此外，莫里斯还指出装饰艺术是从古至今人们表达美感的一种途径，是我们了解历史的向导，并带给人们快乐及成就感。

最后一篇《我如何成为一名社会主义者》于1894年首次发表，此文主要讲述了莫里斯转变为一名社会主义者的过程，同时也表达了其厌恶现代文明的思想。

翻译本书的过程就像与威廉·莫里斯先生进行了一次心灵的沟通，透过极具哲理又不失诙谐的语句，深深折服于他的思想。一切劳动都应是荣誉与满足的源泉；无论贫贱高低，每个人都有权享受美好的艺术、美好的环境。纵观历史，有多少著作已经改变了世界，改变了我们审视自我及世人的方式，成为评论家的宠儿、争论的焦点。伟大思想家的作品总是能够启迪人生、触发灵感、抚慰心灵、丰富生活，《有效工作与无效劳动》正是这样一部经典。午后温暖的阳光下，捧一杯咖啡，请您享受阅读带来的浪漫时光。

目 录

观 念

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读

有效工作与无效劳动

哥特式建筑

平凡而重要的艺术

我如何成为一名社会主义者

Useful Work v. Useless Toil

Gothic Architecture

The Lesser Arts

How I Became a Socialist

返回总目录

有效工作与无效劳动

以上的标题可能会让我的一些读者匪夷所思。现今大部分人认为所有工作都是有益的。此外，很多富人甚至认为一切工作都是令人满意的。大部分人，无论成功与否都相信即使一个人正在从事一项看起来毫无意义的工作，他也能以此维持生计，如人们常说的“他有工作”。很多成功人士毫不吝啬祝贺与表扬的话语以此鼓励积极乐观的员工，因为这些员工为了神圣的工作非常勤奋并放弃所有娱乐与假期。总之，一切劳动本身都是有益的，这已经成为了现代道德信条，并为那些依靠别人的劳动而生活的人提供了便利。然而，对于那些被依靠的人，我建议他们不要相信表象，而要更加深刻地洞察此事。

首先，我们应该接受的现实是，人类只有两种选择：劳动或死亡。大自然不会无偿为我们提供生计，我们必须通过某种程度的劳动得以生存。其次，我们应该领会，如果大自然对我们这种被迫的劳动没有补偿，她一定会悉心地在其他方面把这种延续个人与种族生命的劳动变得不仅恒久，甚至充满快乐。

你也许确信大自然就是这样做的，当人们身体健全，在特定情况下会对工作乐此不疲，这也是人的本质。然而，我们也必须以虚伪的口吻赞扬一切劳动，无论它是什么。我曾经说过，有一些劳动绝非赐福，而是诅咒。如果工人罢工、选择死亡或者我们把他们送到济贫院或监狱，无论将其送到哪里，对社会或者工人或许都更有好处。

你们看，这里有两种工作：一种有益，一种徒劳；一种算得上是赐福，减轻生活的烦恼，一种仅仅是诅咒，加重生活的负担。

那么，它们之间又有什么区别呢？答案是：一种充满希望，另一种令人绝望。我们应该果断地选择第一种工作，拒绝第二种工作。

呈现在工作中、使工作变得有意义的希望的本质是什么？

我认为这种希望由三部分组成：希望休息，希望生产，希望工作本身的快乐。希望这些都可以得到充分地、高质量地满足；得到应得的保质保量的休息；生产出那些除傻瓜和禁欲主义者以外的人都值得拥有的产品；在工作中充分地体验到那种让所有人都能感受到的快乐；这些不只是单纯的习惯，如果失去它，我们会像一个烦躁的人失去他正在摆弄的物件一样感到烦躁不安。

我把希望休息列在首位是因为这是我们最简单、最正常的希望。无论在一些工作中会有什么快乐，但在所有的工作中都一定会有某种痛苦，它们像野兽般挑起我们麻木的神经让我们开始行动，可怕地变动我们完全适应的工作。这种非人的折磨要以动物般的休息来补偿。当我们工作的时候，我们必须坚信我们有不必工作的时候，而且当休息到来时，我们还可以有足够的时间充分享受它，休息时间必须长于恢复我们在工作中耗费的精力的时间。此外，还要像动物般休息，也就是说不能被忧虑打扰，否则我们就不能真正享受休息。如果我们能得到如此充足和满意的休息，迄今为止，我们的情况也不比野兽差。

至于对生产的希望，我已经说过，这是大自然迫使我们为之而工作。这种希望让我们意识到我们确实生产出了一些重要物品，而不是一些无用的东西，或者至少不是那些我们想要或者我们可以使用的无用的东西。如果我们看清这一点并运用自己的意志，到目前为止，我们要比机器强大。

希望从工作本身得到快乐。在我的一些读者，或者大部分读者看来，这种希望一定很奇怪。然而，我认为对所有的生物而言，在发挥他们的能量时都会有一种快感，就连野兽也会对他们柔软、敏捷及强壮的体魄感到欣喜。而一个正在工作的人在同时运用其思想、灵魂以及身体的能量，生产他认为是因他的意愿而生产的、将存在于世的某个物品。他的记忆力和想象力辅佐他的工作。不仅仅是他自己的思想，所有前辈的思想也同时指导他的工作。作为人类的一员，他在进行创造。工作是人类的特性，如果我们工作，那么我们就是人类，我们的生活因此将是愉快而重要的。

因此，有价值的工作让我们在休息中享受希望的快乐，在使用工作的产品时充满快乐，在每天的创造技能中体验快乐。

除了这种工作，其他的都是无价值的，那是奴役般的苦工——仅仅为了生存而辛劳；而我们生存就是去做苦工。

因此可以说，既然我们拥有一双天平般的双手可以权衡世人所做的工作，那就让我们使用它们吧。几千年的摸爬滚打之后，诸多对希望的承诺被推迟，在对人类文明进步以及取得自由的无限狂喜中，让我们来判断我们所做工作的价值。

现在，关于工作，文明社会中最首要的、最容易引起注意的就是不同社会阶层的工作分配非常不均衡。首先，有些人，并不是少数人，他们根本不工作，也没有任何理由；其次，有些人，并且是很多人，他们相当努力地工作，宣称自己得到了足够的补偿并可以休假；最后，还有一些人，他们勤奋工作，可以说除了工作他们不做任何其他事，因此为了与上述我已经提到的中产阶级、富人，或者权贵相区别，他们被相应地称为“工人阶级”。

显然，这种不平等沉重地压迫着“工人”阶级，明显倾向于毁掉他们对休息这一最基本需求的希望。单就这种情况，他们甚至都比不上旷野中的野兽。然而，我们愚蠢地把有益的工作变成无效的辛劳远不止这些，这只是开始而已。

首先，关于不劳动的富人阶层，我们都清楚，他们大量消耗却什么也不贡献。因此，显然他们要依赖劳动者养活，就像乞丐一样，纯粹是社会的负担。近来，许多人已经开始觉察到这个问题，尽管他们还没看清我们现行制度的弊端，也没想到任何办法来摆脱这种负担；尽管他们也许还渺茫地希望下议院[1]成员的选举投票制度，如果可能，魔幻般地朝那个方向发展。抱着这些希望或者迷信，我们不需要庸人自忧。而且，上层社会的这一阶层，国家曾经很需要他们，他们的人数很少，现在他们失去了权势，只能依赖其下面的一个阶层，即中产阶级的支持。实际上，正是中产阶级中最成功的人士或者他们的直系后裔构成了上层社会。

至于包括商人、制造商以及社会中专业人士的中产阶级，他们貌似工作相当努力，以至于乍一看还以为他们在为社会贡献力量，而不是给社会增加负担。但是到目前为止，尽管他们中大部分人参与劳动，但是却没有产出。即使是商品分销商、医生、（天才）艺术家，或者文人等人确实有产出，他们产出所造成的消耗大大超出了相应的比例。商人和制造商是中产阶级中最强大的一部分，在为了争取各自财富份额的相互斗争中他们耗费了生命与精力，这些财富是他们“强迫”真正的劳动者为他们创造的。其余的中产阶级都是寄生虫，他们不但不为公众劳动，反而享受特权，他们是财产的寄生虫。以律师为例，有时他们毫不掩饰地这样做。有时候，医生以及上述提到的其他人自称是有益的，但却常常毫无用处。他们仅仅作为这个愚蠢、欺诈和专横制度的支持者及其一部分而存在。我们必须牢记：一般说来，他们这些人只有一个目标，其目标并不是得到物质成果，而是为了他们自己或者他们的儿女赢得地位，然后他们就根本不用劳动了。这就是他们的志向以及终其一生要得到的，就算不为自己，至少为了儿女，然而这个“自豪”之位显然是社会的负担。尽管带着虚伪的尊严忙于工作，但是他们不关心任何事情。挽救那些积极分子以及从事科学、艺术或文学创作的人们吧，这些人如果称不上社会的中坚，也至少是这个悲惨制度中的中坚力量（多么悲哀啊！），他们在这个体制中被奴役，处处受阻碍、遭受挫折，甚至有时被腐化。

以下是另一个阶层，他们人数众多而且非常有影响力，他们产出极少，消耗极大，因此就像乞丐一样主要依赖真正生产者的支持。但是还有一个阶层是需要考虑的，他们生产全部产品，他们除了供应自己还供给其他阶层，尽管这一阶层的地位低于其他阶层。请注意，真正的低等是身体和精神的双重堕落。然而，专横愚蠢体制的必然结果是很多工人并不是生产者。他们大多数都只是财产的寄生虫，其中有一些明显如此，如军人，他们对抗国家在陆地和海域上的对手和敌人，为国家而战，争取某些无须付酬的劳动产品。此外，除了这种明显的负担，生产者还要承担那些国内服务人员的消耗，首先就是那些在私人财富战争中从事服务的人员，像大量的文书、商店售货员等。如上所述，他们是富裕中产阶级的真正职业。这一工人团体比想象的要多得多，因为它包括所有从事被我称作激烈的推销业的工人，或者用一个通俗的词语，就是对商品进行吹捧，现在已经达到如此的巅峰程度，很多商品的销售费用远远超过生产费用。

此外，有很多人从事荒唐的、奢侈的物品的制作，因为富裕阶层非生产者的存在导致对这些物品的需求；那些过着普通而不腐化生活的人不会奢求或者向往这些物品。也许有人会不同意我的看法，但我永远不会视这些东西为财富，我认为它们不是财富而是废物。财富是大自然馈赠于我们的，一个理性的人可以合理运用大自然的礼物。阳光、新鲜空气、未受污染的地球、食物、衣物以及必要的舒适住房；各种知识的储存以及传播知识的能力；人与人之间自由沟通的方法；艺术品以及一个有抱负、有思想的真正的人创造的美，以上都是自由的、人性的、未腐化的，是人们快乐的源泉。这才是真正的财富。我很难想象除了以上所列的，是否还有其他值得拥有的东西。但是，英国的产业以及世界上的工厂，我恳求你们仔细思考一下，当想到无用的苦工所生产和销售的大量物品是任何理智的人都不会渴望得到的时候，难道你们不会像我一样困惑吗？

现在，甚至出现了一个更加悲哀的行业，它强迫千千万万的劳动者为他们以及同胞生产其需要的物品，因为他们是下等阶级。因为，如果许多人没有生产生活，甚至只能如此空虚愚蠢地过活，那么他们就会强迫大量劳动者生产无人需求的物品，即使是富人也不需要的物品，于是就出现了这样的结果：大部分人必须贫穷，并且，依赖他们所供养的上等人所发的工资生活，就连人们自然需求的物品他们都买不起，只能忍受悲惨的现实，想出各种权宜之计凑合着生活：吃粗糙而没有营养的食物，穿不能蔽体的破旧衣服，住恶劣简陋的房屋，甚至使那些在文明社会生活的城里人都感到惋惜，让他们想起游牧部落的帐篷，或者史前野人的洞穴。不仅如此，这些劳动者们甚至必须对“时代造假”这一伟大工业发明伸出援助之手，在他们的帮助下，伪造出富人特有的奢侈品供其使用，这是多么拙劣可笑的欺骗呀。由于工薪阶层必须常常按照雇主的命令生活，他们特有的全部生活习惯都是雇主强加于他们的。

但是，试图通过语言来表达对我们新时代备受称赞的廉价生产的鄙视，就是在浪费时间。必须充分说明现代制造业所依赖的剥削体制需要这种廉价生产。也就是说，我们的社会存在大量的奴隶，他们的吃、穿、住与娱乐都必须像奴隶一样得到满足，并且，日常生活需要迫使他们必须生产奴隶特有的物品，这些物品的作用就是延续奴隶制度。

总之，关于文明国家的劳动方式，在这些国家中由三个阶层构成：根本不打算劳动阶层、假装劳动但无产出阶层、劳动阶层，这个劳动阶层受迫于其他两个阶层，常常进行无价值的劳动。

因此，文明社会浪费了自己的资源，只要现行的制度存在，这种情况就会一直持续下去。以上是形容我们所遭遇暴政的冷酷语言。那么试着思考这意味着什么呢？

世界上存在一定量的自然材料和自然力量，还有居住于此的人类所固有的定量劳动力。在自身需求和欲望的促使下，数千年来，人类一直肩负着征服自然力量并使自然材料有益于人类的使命，即辛苦劳动。因为我们不能预见未来，在我们看来，与自然的斗争似乎即将结束，人类近乎取得了彻底的胜利。而且，回首历史刚开始的时期，我们注意到在近二百年内，这一胜利进程比以往任何时期都更加迅猛，更加令人吃惊。因此，我们现代人在任何方面当然都应该比我们的前辈更加富裕。理所当然，我们所有的人都应该是富裕的，用我们战胜自然得到的战利品好好装饰我们的生活。

但是事实是什么呢？谁敢否认大部分开化的人还处于贫穷之中？他们如此的贫穷，以至于幼稚地自寻其扰，还在讨论是否在某些方面他们比祖先的状况要稍好一些。他们的祖先是贫穷，但是他们的贫穷不能用缺乏智慧的野蛮来权衡，因为除了贫穷他们什么也不懂。所以他们应该受冻、挨饿、肮脏、露宿荒野以及无知愚昧，这些对于他们来说就像他们应该拥有皮肤一样自然。但是对于我们，对于我们中的大部分人，文明已经孕育了欲望，她禁止我们满足，所以，文明不仅仅是一个吝啬鬼，也是一个虐待狂。

因此，我们战胜大自然的胜利果实已经被盗走。我们已从在大自然的强迫下怀着对休息、收获以及快乐的美好希望进行工作转变成在人类强迫下的劳动——只希望为了劳动而活。

那么我们应该做些什么呢，能改善这种状况吗？

好吧，请再次铭记：战胜大自然的伟大胜利并不是由我们远古的先祖实现的，而是我们的父辈，甚至就是我们自己。对于我们来说，绝望无助地坐等其变的确是一件怪异愚蠢的事，坚信我们能改善它。那么，首先要做些什么呢？

我们已经看到，现代社会被分为两个阶层，其中之一享有特权，依靠另一个阶层的劳动供养，换言之，它强迫下等阶层为它劳动，然后从此阶层掠夺它所能掠夺的一切，以此剥削来的财富来维持自己成员处于养尊处优的地位，使他们的地位高于其他人，他们比下等阶层的人更长命、更美丽、更值得尊敬、更优雅。我并没有说，关于其成员肯定长寿、美丽或者优雅是自寻烦恼，我只是认为他们和下等阶层相差不多，也不过如此。因为它也同样不能公平地利用下等阶层的劳动力生产出来真正的财富，反而大量浪费劳动力生产废物。

正是这种少数人的掠夺和浪费造成大多数人的贫穷；如果可以证明这种掠夺和浪费是延续社会的需要，那么我们应该屈服于此，没有其他可以抱怨的了，但是受压迫的大多数人的绝望会在某一时刻摧毁这个社会。相反，即使通过这种片面的实验，例如，像（所谓的）合作，已经证实特权阶层的存在绝不是生产财富的需要，反而是为了“统治”财富生产者，或者换言之，为了维护特权的需要。

那么，要采取的第一步措施就是废除特权阶级，他们推卸作为人类应有的责任，而强迫他人做自己不愿做的事。根据各自不同的能力，所有的人必须劳动，以此供应自己的消耗，就是说，每个人都应该劳动，最起码能够充分地维持自己的生计，并且应该保证自己的生活；也就是说，社会为任何一个成员以及所有成员提供福利。

这样，真正的社会就成立了，它将依赖条件平等而存在。不会因为一个人的利益而折磨另一个人，不仅如此，也不会因为社会的整体利益而折磨某个人。实际上，不能让每个成员的利益得到支持的体制也称不上是社会。

但是，现在人们的生活依然很糟糕，和很多人根本不劳动的时候一样，比浪费那么多劳动时好不到哪儿去，所以很清楚的是，在所有的人都劳动并且无劳动力被浪费的情况下，人们劳动不仅仅是希望得到他们劳动应得的那份财富，而且他们也不能失去应有的休息权利。那么，这就是上面提到的三种希望中的两个。当阶级掠夺被废除，每个人都将收获自己劳动的果实，获得应得的休息，也就是，闲暇时间。一些社会主义者也许会说我们不需要更加进步了，劳动者可以得到他们劳动的所有成果，并且可以充分地休息，这就足够了。但是，尽管人类的专制已经从此废除，我仍然要向自然需求的专制索赔。只要劳动令人厌恶，它将依然是一种每天必须承受的负担，并且即使劳动的时间短暂，这也会玷污我们的生活。我们想做的是在积累财富的同时不减少我们的快乐。直到劳动成为我们生活中快乐的一部分，我们才完全征服了大自然。

把人们从强制做不必要的劳动中解放出来这第一步将至少让我们踏上通往这一美好结局的征程；然后我们将有时间和机会来予以实现。目前，失业浪费劳动力，非生产性的工作也浪费劳动力，在这种情况下，很显然只是一少部分人在支撑世界文明。如果我们的生活水平与现在富人和高雅的人认为满意的水平基本一致，那么当所有人都有效地工作来支持世界文明时，分摊到每个人所需要做的工作就非常少。我们将有剩余劳动力，并且简言之，我们想多富有就多富有。生活将会很容易。假如现在我们某天早晨醒来，在我们现行的制度下发现“容易生活”，那么此制度会立刻强迫我们开始劳动，使生活很辛苦；我们应该把它称作“发展我们的潜质”，或者类似这样好听的说法。劳动力的倍增已经成为我们的必需品，并且只有它持续增长，发明机器的独创才能对我们没有任何实际用处。每一台新机器都将带给工人一定的苦恼，因为它扰乱了他们的专业行业；所以很多人将从熟练工人降低到非熟练工人，接着他们又渐渐地掌握了新的工作，步入正轨，所有人又将明显地流畅工作。所有这些都在为变革做准备，如果不是这样，那么对于大多数人来说，事情就将和令人惊奇的新发明出现以前一样。

但是，当变革已经使“生活更加轻松”，当所有人和谐地一起劳动并且没有人剥削劳动者或者说剥削劳动者生命的时候，在那些即将到来的日子里，将不会强迫我们继续生产我们不需要的东西，不会强迫我们无偿劳动。我们可以冷静地、仔细地考虑利用我们劳动力财富应该做些什么。现在，在我看来，我认为首先我们应该利用那份财富和自由为我们所有劳动者创造出最常见、最需要以及能带给每个人快乐的东西。因为仔细地考虑这个问题，我知道一种方法在面临所有事故和困难时一定可以使生活愉快，那就是对生活的所有细节都采取积极乐观的态度。为了避免你可能会认为太普遍接受的断言不值得一提，让我提醒你，现代文明是如何彻底阻止它的，穷人的生活被多么肮脏甚至可怕的琐碎所烦扰，她强加给富人的又是一个怎样机械空虚的生活。此外，这样的假期是多么少啊！任何人都可以体会到成为大自然一部分，在所有相互关联的事情中不慌不忙地，深思熟虑地并且快乐地体验我们的生命历程，而正是这些事情的关联与其他人的生活联系在一起构建了伟大的人类集合体。

但是，如果我们意志坚定地把所有的劳动都变成合理的、愉快的，那么我们一生也许都会拥有这样的假期。我们必须真正的坚定，因为没有权宜之计可以帮助我们。我已经说过，现在，这些失业的劳动力以及我们像被追捕的野兽一样恐惧和焦虑地生活着，这是现行体系强加于我们的，它意在为特权阶层的利益而生产。这里有必要说明上述内容意味着什么。在工资和资本的现行体系下，“生产者”（最荒谬的称呼，因为生产者是指通过自己双手劳动的人）控制着那些没有特权的人，他垄断着每个劳动者使用体内固有的劳动力进行生产的方法。他，仅仅他自己就可以利用这些劳动力，另一方面，这些劳动力商品是他资产的唯一来源，也就是说，过去劳动所积累的产品对他来说也是有价值的。因此，他购买几乎没有资产的劳动力，并且他们只能靠出卖自己的劳动力为生；在此交易中他的目的就是扩大资产，使之增值。很明显，如果他支付给与他讨价还价的劳动者其劳动的全部价值，那么他就没有达到目标。但是因为他垄断生产性劳动力的手段，他可以迫使劳动者达成一个更有利于他，而不利于劳动者的协议；该交易是，让他们起码能维持生计，并根据一个足够“高”的标准进行估算以确保他们能平静地将其所得交给雇主，他们生产的其余部分（事实上更大一部分）应当归雇主所有，成为雇主随便可以使用的财产，任其挥霍。我们都知道，这些令人嫉妒的财产得到军队、海军、警察以及监狱的保卫。总之，被那些强大的物质力量保护着。在广大的无产阶级中的迷信、习俗，以及对挨饿而死的恐惧，也就是无知，使得资产阶级能够用以征服他们的奴隶。

现在，这个制度造成的其他弊病也许会在其他时候出现。我想指出的是，在目前这个制度下，我们不可能达到使劳动有吸引力的程度。并且我想强调，正是这种掠夺（没有其他词语比这更合适）浪费了这个文明世界的可用劳动力，强迫很多人无所事事，其他更多的人做无用功，并且强迫真正有益的劳动力从事最繁重的过度工作。因此，必须完全了解所谓的“生产者”借助于他从其他人偷窃的劳动力的首要目的是产生盈利，而不是商品，也就是说，这种“财富”的创造是建立在工人想要维持生计的基础之上，以磨损机器为代价的。此“财富”的真实与虚假对他来说没有任何意义，只要能售出并为他盈利就好。我已经说过，由于富人拥有超过他们可以合理支配的钱财，因此而购买虚假的财富，在这方面是一种浪费。除此以外，由于穷人买不起值得生产的物品，在这方面也是一种浪费。以至于资本家“供给”的“需求”不是真正的需求。他所经营的市场被可悲地、不均衡地操控着，这种不均衡是由资本与工资制度的掠夺引起的。

因此，如果我们想要实现所有人都快乐有益地劳动，就必须坚决地摆脱这个制度的束缚。使劳动变得有吸引力的第一步就是想方设法实现有成效的劳动，包括土地、机器、工厂等的资本由广大群众支配，为所有人的共同利益而使用，这样我们才可能为了“供给”每个人以及所有人的真正需求而劳动，也就是说，为民生而劳动，而不是为供应盈利市场的需求——为利益而劳动——也就是强迫他人违背自己意愿而劳动的势力。

在采取第一步之后，人们开始懂得大自然安排人类要么劳动要么被饿死，并且当他们不再如此愚蠢地允许偷窃作为另外一种选择，当这种美好时代来临时，我们就解除了浪费带来的负担，从而发现我们拥有上述提到的大量可用劳动力，这将允许我们在合理的范围内按照我们的意愿生活。我们将不再被饥饿的恐惧驱赶而匆匆忙忙。即使现在，这种恐惧带给文明社会大部分人的压力也不少于纯粹的野蛮人。对于一个无劳动力浪费的社会，容易提供的最明显的必需品就是，我们应有时间仔细观察并思考他们真正想要的是什么，这不需要我们的过度工作就可以实现。当现行强制等级制度造成的强迫被消除，我们面临单纯的失业时常常表达的恐惧就是产生于过多的令人反感的劳动负担，这正是现在我们大多数人必须承担的。

再次强调，我们认为有必要值得牺牲一些空闲时间实现的第一件事就是劳动的吸引力问题。为实现此目标不需要非常沉重的牺牲，但是的确需要一些牺牲。因为我们也许期望刚刚艰难走过了一段斗争和革命时期的人们最不能长期忍受纯粹的功利主义[2]生活，尽管无知的人有时会谴责社会主义者追求这样的生活。另一方面，现代人的装饰生活已经腐烂透顶，在新的社会秩序实现以前必须完全清除。这种生活没有任何意义，也不会产生任何意义，不能满足从商业主义专制中解放出来的人们的愿望。

我们必须在心甘情愿地和愉快地开展工作的基础上，带着有利于我们自己和邻居的美好想法，开始建设装饰生活——生活的乐趣，无论是身体的还是精神的，无论是科学的还是艺术的，无论是社会的还是个人的。这种绝对必要的工作是我们应该做的，首先每天仅花费我们的一小部分时间，而且到目前为止，也不会造成负担，但是它是日常常规的任务，因此将破坏我们每天的乐趣，除非它的存在要保持让人可以忍受的程度。换句话说，一切劳动，即使是最常见的，必须有吸引力。

这将怎么实现呢？这个问题的答案正是本文其余部分要解决的。关于这个问题给予一些提示，我知道所有的社会主义者会赞同所提的大多数建议，但其中一些可能看起来有些奇怪和大胆。这些意见应被视为没有任何教条的意图，仅仅是表达我个人的观点。

从上述我们已经讨论的全部内容可以得出的结论是：劳动要有吸引力，必须要以取得一些明显有用的成果为方向，除非每个人自愿地劳动并把它当作一种消遣。人们指望这种明显有益的因素可以使本来令人厌恶的任务变得轻松愉快，因为在新的社会秩序中，社会公德或人对生命的责任将取代神学道德或人对一些抽象观念的责任。此外，一天的工作将是短暂的，这不需要坚持。很明显只要没有浪费劳动，它就会是短暂的。也很明显，很多工作现在是一种煎熬，但如果极大地缩短这些工作，它们也将很容易忍耐。

工作的多样性是下一个最关键的问题。迫使一个人日复一日完成相同的任务没有任何逃脱或变化的希望，这简直意味着对他的生命进行炼狱般的折磨，只有榨取利润的暴政才需要如此。一个人可能很容易地学习和实践至少三种技能，户外运动与久坐不动的工作交替进行——工作需要锻炼强健的身体力量进行劳动，而其中头脑要做的事更好。例如，很少有人不希望花一部分时间在最需要、最愉快的工作上，即培育花花草草。使工作多样性成为可能的一件事就是在一个社会有序的社区所采取的教育形式。目前，一切教育的最终目的都是培养人们在商业等级制度中对号入座——这些作为主人，那些作为工人。对主人的教育比对工人更加精致复杂，但仍然是商业性的；即使在古老的大学，学习也不太被重视，除非从长远来看，它可以创造财富。真正的教育完全不同于此，它应该发现不同的人所适合的教育方式，并且在他们想要选择的道路中帮助他们。因此，在适当而有序的社会中，应该教年轻人训练他们的思想和身体具备一些技能，因为他们需要这些技能；并且成年人也应该有在相同学校学习的机会，因为个人能力的发展是教育的首要目标，而不是像现在，与为自己或者自己的主人赚钱的伟大目标相比，一切能力都次之。大量的人才，甚至是天才，在现行制度下被摧残，并且将被这样的制度根除，然而正是这些人将使我们的日常工作变得容易并有趣。

在这种所谓的多样性下，我注意到一种工业产品，它已经饱受商业主义的折磨，几乎可以说已经不存在了，并且它的确与我们这个时代毫无关联，恐怕一些人将很难理解我不得不说的这个主题，然而因为它非常重要，我必须得说。我的意思是指当普通工人从事平凡工作的时候，他们创造的，或者应该由他们创造的另一种艺术，这些非常恰当地被称为大众艺术。再强调一遍，这种艺术现在已经不再存在，已被商业主义摧残。但是从人与自然较量开始直到当代资本主义制度的兴起，它是存在的并且广泛蓬勃发展。当它存续时，人类制造的一切装饰着人类的生活，就像自然制造的一切装饰着大自然一样。工人就像塑造他手中的物品一样，很自然地装饰它，完全没有任何刻意的努力，从而往往很难区分他作品的纯粹功利的部分和装饰部分。现在，这种艺术的起源正是工匠们在工作中探索多样性的必需品，尽管这种欲望引起的美是赠予世界最伟大的礼物，然而工人在工作中获取多样性及快乐是更重要的问题，因为它带给所有劳动者快乐的印象。所有这一切现在已经完全从文明时代的工作中消失。如果你想进行装饰，必须专门付费，并且工人就像生产其他商品一样被迫生产装饰品。在工作中他被迫假装幸福，以至人类双手创造的美，曾经是对他劳动最好的回报，现在已经变成额外负担，并且装饰品也仅仅是愚蠢的无用辛苦之一，也许是最令人厌烦的束缚。

除了工作的短暂性，刻意的有效性以及应有的多样性，还需要另一个因素使工作吸引人，那就是宜人的（工作）环境。我们文明人如此自鸣得意地忍受的作为生产系统不可或缺的一部分即痛苦和卑劣，这对于整个社会是必需的，就像富人的私人住宅一定拥有适量的污秽一样。如果这样的富人允许他的客厅布满灰尘，餐厅的每个角落建一个厕所，如果他习惯性地在曾经漂亮的花园里堆满灰土和垃圾，从不换洗被单和桌布，并且使他的家人五个人睡一张床，他一定会发现自己被疯狂的魔爪所控制。但是这些吝啬愚蠢的行为正是在假设的必需品的强迫下，我们在当今社会每天在做的疯狂的行为。我请求你们立刻对反文明的精神失常行为采取行动。

坦白地说，我们所有拥挤的城镇以及令人眼花缭乱的工厂都是利润制的产物。资本家的生产、资本家的霸占土地以及他们之间的利益交易迫使人们向大城市进军，为了使自己为资本家的利益服务；相同的专制极大地缩小了工厂应有的空间，以至（例如）一个极好的编制车间内部几乎就是荒谬的场面，令人讨厌至极。除了从人们的生活中压榨利润，以及为那些压榨的奴隶生产廉价商品供他们使用的必要，所有这一切没有其他的必要。一切劳动力还没完全被打入工厂，通常不需要这样做，但利润暴政除外。所有从事这些劳动的人们决不需要被迫挤在像猪圈一样的狭窄城市宿舍。为什么他们不能在宁静的乡村住宅，或工业学院，或小城镇追求自己的职业梦想，或者简单地说，在他们生活最幸福的地方追随职业目标，他们没有理由不这样做。

对于那些必须大规模地与当下这个工厂制度有关联的劳动，一切都井井有条（尽管在我看来还是有缺点），至少将有机会享受一种丰富的、渴望的并被愉快包围的社会生活。工厂也可能是智力活动的中心，里面可能有多种多样的工作：对于每个人来说，必要的机器维护保养或许仅仅是每天工作的一小部分。其他工作范围很广，可能从培育周边国家进口的食物到艺术和科学的研究和实践。从事这样工作并且主宰自己生活的人，将不允许任何匆忙和目光短浅迫使他们堕入持久的肮脏、骚乱以及缺乏住所的深渊。适当地应用科学可以使他们摆脱废物，即使不能完全摧毁也能最大限度地减少目前使用精心设计的机械制造出的种种麻烦，如烟雾、恶臭和噪音；他们也不会容忍自己工作或生活的建筑物及房屋成为美丽干净的地球表面上的丑陋污点。把工厂、建筑物以及工作棚建得如同家一样体面、便利，从这一点开始，他们将准确无误地继续使它们不仅好，不惹人讨厌，甚至将它们建得美丽，现在，某段时间被商业贪婪所残害的建筑的辉煌艺术将重生并繁荣。

所以你看，我认为在一个适当的、秩序井然的社会中，对有益的意识、从事工作时应有的求知兴趣，多样性以及令人心情舒畅的工作环境可以使工作更加有吸引力。但是由于所有的人都希望如此，我还要求每日工作时间不应令人乏味的长。可能有人会说，“你怎么能使最后这项要求和其他要求协调一致呢？如果工作被改革的如此完善，那么生产出的商品不会非常昂贵吗？”

如同我以前所说的一样，我的确承认要使劳动有吸引力，一些牺牲是必需的。我的意思是，包括各种劳动在内，在一个自由的社会中我们还像现在一样以同样匆忙的、肮脏的、混乱的、无精打采的方式工作，如果我们对此可以心满意足的话，我们可能会把每天的劳动时间缩短得比我假想我们应当缩短的多得多。但是如果我们真的满足，这将意味着我们新赢得的自由条件会抛弃我们，留下我们无精打采、可怜兮兮；如果我们像现在这样优哉游哉，那么我的主张根本不可能实现。为提高我们的现状使其达到全社会呼吁的理想标准做一些必要的牺牲，我们对此应该知足。不仅如此，我们应该以个人身份积极踊跃地奉献更多的时间以及牺牲安逸的生活来提高生活水平。为了这些目的，为了对工作的热爱以及为了工作产品，人们，无论是个人形式还是组织形式在希望创造快乐的鼓舞下，都将自由地生产那些为所有人服务的生活装饰品，然而现在他们却被收买仅为服务少数富人而生产（或者假装生产）。一个完全没有艺术或文学的文明社会生活的实验尚未被尝试过。过去文明的堕落和腐化可能把这种对快乐的否认强加于将从灰烬中重生崛起的社会。如果必须如此，我们会接受功利主义这个过渡阶段作为最终艺术的基础。如果残疾人和挨饿者从我们的街道上消失，如果地球同样地养育我们所有人，如果太阳同样地照耀我们所有人，如果地球的辉煌戏剧——白天和夜晚，夏天和冬天——可以被我们每个人（以及所有人）所理解并喜爱，那么我们可以负担得起停滞片刻，直到我们从过去腐败的耻辱中净化出来，直到艺术再次在从恐怖的奴隶时期以及羞愧的强盗时期解放出来的人民之中崛起。在此期间，在任何情况下，对工作的改善、思考以及审议的确需要付出代价，但不是以强迫长时间劳动的方式。新时代，我们发明了机器，这些对于过去人类来说应该是疯狂的幻想，并且至今我们仍没有任何用途。

他们被称为“节省劳动力”机器——一个常用语意味着我们对机器的期望；但是我们没有得到我们所期望的。它们真正的“功劳”是使熟练工人降低到非熟练工人队伍，增加了“劳动后备军”的数量——也就是说，增强了工人生活的不稳定因素并且加强了那些操作机器（像奴隶侍奉主人一样对待机器）的工人的劳动强度。在积累劳动力雇主们利润的同时，所有他们采取的方法或许顺便迫使他们在彼此激烈的商业战争中耗尽利润。在一个真正的社会中，这些别出心裁的奇迹将首次用于最大限度地减少花费在乏味劳动上的时间，通过他们的方法大幅减少后，以至对于每个人来说可能仅仅是一个很轻的负担。尤其是当这些机器的改进是否有利于个人已经不再怀疑，而是是否将有利于社会时，那么这些机器肯定会大大地改进。

机器的普通用途就到此为止，一段时间后当人们发现不需要再为起码的生活担忧时，机器使用很可能就有所限制，并且人们学会在手工艺中获得兴趣和娱乐，谨慎细心地制作手工艺比机械工作更加有吸引力。

此外，由于从每天挨饿的恐怖时期解放出来的人们发现了他们真正需要的，除了自己的需要不再被任何事情强迫，他们会拒绝生产现在被称为奢侈品的绝对愚蠢的商品，以及现在被称为廉价商品的有毒害物品和废物。当仆人不再穿毛绒马裤时就没人会生产这些裤子，同样当没有人被迫放弃真正的黄油，也不会有人浪费时间生产人造黄油。掺假法只有在满是盗贼的社会才需要——在这样一个社会中它们是无用武之地的。

社会主义者经常被问到，在新形势状态下比较艰苦、比较令人厌恶的工作将如何进行呢？在我们知道旧社会的哪些物质将消失以及哪些将经受住变革带领我们走向巨大的变化之前，试图彻底地或可信地回答上述问题将是挑战不可能完成的事，即从旧社会物质中建立一个新社会的蓝图。然而不难设想一些调整，通过调整让那些从事最艰苦工作的人的工作时间到最短，此外上文中讨论的工作的多样性专门适用于此。再一次强调，一个人终其一生都绝望地从事一项令人厌恶并永无休止的任务，这种分配足够符合神学家们想象出的地狱生活，几乎不适合任何其他形式的社会。最后，如果这种较辛苦的工作是某种特殊的工作，我们可以假想召唤特殊的志愿者从事此项工作，他们肯定会英勇献身，除非在自由状态下人类奴隶时期所拥有的勇敢刚毅可能已经消失殆尽。

可是如果有这样一种工作，无论如何都不能改变它令人厌恶的本质，如缩短持续工作时间，或者通过工作循环中的间歇，或者可以带给从事此项工作的人一种特殊奇特的有益感（因此得到的荣誉感）都无济于事——如果有这样一种工作无论如何对工人都是一种折磨，那么该怎么办呢？好吧，让我们看看如果不做这样的工作，天是否会塌下来，如果它稍好一点点，天可能会塌下来，但是这种工作的产品不值得我们付出代价。

现在我们已经看到，在任何情况下一切劳动都是对劳动者的赐福，神学的教义是虚伪的，欺骗的；从另一方面说，只有伴随着对休息和娱乐应有的希望，劳动才是令人满意的。我们已经权衡过文明社会中的工作并且发现了它的缺陷，由于它最缺乏希望，并且因此我们看到文明已经为人类孕育了可怕的诅咒。但是，我们也看到世界上的工作如果没被愚蠢、暴政以及对立阶级间永久的冲突所浪费，那么应该怀着美好希望在愉快的氛围中进行。

因此，为了可以怀揣着美好希望在愉快的氛围中生活和工作，我们需要的是和平。如果我们可以相信别人的话语，那么就有如此渴望的和平，但是事实却是人们不断地把和睦拒之门外。但对于我们，让我们下定决心并且不惜一切代价来赢得和睦。

代价可能是什么？谁知道？可能以和平的方式赢得和平吗？唉，怎样赢得呢？我们被错误和愚蠢完全包围，以致我们必须想方设法与它们斗争到底：直到我们生命的终结这场斗争也不会结束，也许没有结束的明显希望。可能我们可以期待看到的最好结果就是斗争日益清晰，日益激烈，直到最终公开爆发，由较慢的、更加残酷的“和平”贸易手段转为相互杀戮的实际战争。如果我们有生之年可以见证这些，那么我们应该看到更好；因为这意味着富人阶级意识到他们的错误和掠夺行为并且有意识地使用公开暴力保护自己；那么这场斗争将很快结束。

但无论如何，无论我们为和平而奋斗的本质是什么，只要我们视之为稳定目标，专心致志，并永远把它放在心上，未来和平的光芒将照亮我们生活中的一切混乱和烦恼，无论是看起来琐碎的烦恼还是明显悲惨的麻烦；我们至少还应怀揣过真正人类的生活的希望：除此以外，当今时代给不了我们任何更伟大的奖励。

[1] 下议院（House of Commons）是英国最高立法机关英国议会的一部分。其成员由民主选举产生。——译者注

[2] 功利主义（utilitarianism）是伦理学中的一个理论，也称效益主义。提倡追求“最大幸福”，认为决定行为适当与否的标准在于其结果的实用程度。——译者注

哥特式建筑[1]

我认为“建筑”这个词通常被理解为装饰性建筑的艺术，在此意义上，我会常常用到它。然而，我不希望你们认为它的成果仅仅是构造良好、比例适当的建筑物，都要循规蹈矩地经过以下流程：建筑师设计，机械工人而非艺术家的执行，最后移交给其他艺术家来完成。如果从制模或抽象的线条到伟大的雕塑和绘画作品这个过程，仅仅根据用途、质量和地位为一个建筑物配备必要家具，进行全面适当的装潢，那么除了具有高贵华丽装饰的建筑之外，真正的建筑作品是不会产生的。所以，建筑作品是一件和谐的艺术作品，需要一切严肃艺术，需要那些不用于生产单纯玩具或短暂而绚丽作品的艺术的综合作用。

如今，这些艺术品是人们表达生命价值的方式，同时它们的产生也使生命变得有意义：因为它们只能在广泛的良好意愿及公众的帮助下产生，它们的连续产生或真正建筑艺术的存在预示着这样一个社会：这个社会无论具有什么样的变化因素，都可称之为稳定的社会，因为它建立在运用最有益的居民的快乐能量的基础之上。

我们很难说，从长远来看如果缺乏这种建筑艺术将预示着什么。因为这种缺乏出现在世界历史近期，而这个时期离我们太近，使得我们不能看出清晰的结果。但是，目前的趋势显然表明，文明人的兴趣已从发展人类及人类种族智能转移到发展人类的机械能。如果这种趋势沿着逻辑的发展道路进行下去，必须要说明的是，它将破坏设计艺术以及文学领域一切与之类似的艺术，但是明显趋势的逻辑结果常常受到历史发展的阻碍，换言之，就是受到人类共同意志的抵制，除此以外我想不到更好的说法。除非我的希望欺骗我，我想这一进程已经开始，对威胁摧毁艺术的功利主义的反抗正在进行中；这种反抗已根深蒂固，而不仅仅是一种单纯的短暂跟风。只要这种社会状态持续下去，我自己的确不相信这种反抗能有太大的效果，但我坚信能产生新的社会状态的巨大变化正朝我们疾步走来，所以我认为一个非常重要的问题是，反抗与巨变应联手或至少应学会互相理解。当新社会到来时（它本身就是无数年传统经过不断演变的产物），如果发现世界已与一切艺术传统相隔绝，与一切对已经证明的人类能够创造出的美的渴望相隔绝，那么到处追寻新的艺术思路会浪费大量时间。如果缺乏人类的快乐，很多生命将沉闷无趣，即使是很短的时间，这个世界也无法承受。因此，现在还来得及，此刻我请求你们接受下列要求：为反抗功利主义作贡献，为努力抓住纤细的传统线索作贡献。

如今，和谐的建筑组合，包括通常意义上的艺术，并不仅仅是梦想。我已经说过它只是在近期才灭绝：在现代社会崛起以前，无论是文明时代还是野蛮时代它都以某种形式而存在；但在中世纪[2]，艺术的发展达到高潮，这一时期实际上比更早的文明时代离我们现代的生活习惯和思想更遥远，尽管在我们自己的国家拥有本土血统的人们仍继续以当时一些重要的生活方式生活。然而，由于那些时代已离我们的时代很遥远，如果我们曾经确实有过建筑传统，我们只能从那里继续发扬传统，除此以外别无办法，因为哥特式建筑是世界上所能见到的最完整的有机艺术形式。传统思路的中断只可能发生在那里。之前的发展都往那个方向进行，忽略这一事实并试图赶上那个时期之前的思路只不过是矫揉造作的空想，这并不是新生的，而是对古老传统心血来潮的腐化表现。

为了充分说明我的立场，我必须请你们允许我非常简略地重述导致哥特式建筑兴衰的一系列历史事件，并且原谅我陈述这些大家都熟悉的基本事实，因为我需要它们来达到我的目的。我也必须承认，在此过程中，我主要阐明那些从外表上判断属于装饰性建筑物类的作品，而不是我曾提到的那些完整和包容的作品。然而这种不完整性只是表面现象，对于那些研究此类作品的人来说，它们似乎也属于完整建筑作品。它们缺乏完整性只是时间流逝和人们愚蠢的后果，愚蠢的人们不知道它们究竟是什么，只是假装使用它们却损毁了它们作为艺术品的真正用途，或者以同样的态度，轮流滥用这些建筑作品使之作为自己表达转瞬即逝的激情及怨恨当下的工具。

我们可以将建筑艺术的历史分为两个时期，古代和中世纪时期：古代时期又可以分为两种风格，原始的（如希腊）和古典的。那么我们就有三种主要的风格值得考虑：原始的、古典的和中世纪的。然而，前两者在一定程度上是同时的，多少有些重合。当这一特定历史阶段的大幕首次拉开，我们发现了体现最高文明的完整的圆形物，它以古希腊思想和科学为主，符合一种非常独特有序的建筑风格。在我们看来，这种风格是一种极端的精致，也许那些起初就精通于此的人也有同感。此外，即使在这种建筑出现的初期，其超前的图像雕塑装饰已趋近完美，并在技术上迅速发展，精益求精。虽然如此，它终究是野蛮世界的总体建筑风格中的一种，并且仅在图像雕刻及精致上有所超越。与野蛮时期或原始时期的建筑相比，它的精华，也就是说其纯粹的建筑部分变化不大，仅仅是把材料堆积或衔接起来，让人感觉不到建筑本身的发展及风格上的发展。

我们十分熟悉的希腊形式建筑——柱状寺庙，虽然都是用石块建起，但显然比木制的神院或神殿精简，这是伯利克里时代[3]希腊人近期祖先的建筑中的必要部分。随着部落发展为城市，或祖先的部落崇拜变化为城市崇拜（希腊人真正的宗教），这种神院也没有太大改变。事实上，如我们所知，僵化的形式保守主义是希腊建筑的主要组成部分。这种形式保守主义导致建筑物本身与它上面的更高的装饰物之间的冲突。事实上，在初期，一些健康的野蛮主义仍坚持雕塑艺术时，这种矛盾没有被察觉。但由于日益增长的文明要求雕塑家更加自然，较少约束，这种情况就越来越明显，越来越令人烦恼，直到最后清晰地表明，雕塑已不再只是建筑的一部分，并已成为一种出于习惯或迷信绑定到建筑上的附加的艺术。当时的希腊装饰性建筑形式非常局限，没有发展能力，并趋向于脱离其更高的或史诗般的装饰。关于这种形式的精神能说些什么呢？我这样认为；对希腊神庙形式的狭隘迷信不是一个偶然的问题，而是表达古希腊思想的排他性和贵族嚣张气焰的适当方式，其自然结果是要求建筑的所有部分及细节的迂腐完善；以至于装饰的较低部分奴隶般地服从较高部分，它们不可能有创新或个性，接踵而来的是一种贫瘠和单调，总之拒绝一切浪漫，这的确没有破坏它们作为历史遗迹的价值，但是却丢弃了作为世界上可能出现的未来建筑风格的基础。而且必须要记住，这种绝对完美的尝试很快就被证实是希腊建筑的陷阱，因为它无法保持长久。实际上，确保一个回纹饰或齿饰的完美施工很容易，但确保更高装饰的完美就没那么容易了。所以，随着希腊人的精力开始从高水准下降，要求绝对完美变成要求绝对善辩，这把建筑艺术快速地拉入纯粹的形式主义。

但是在古典艺术坠入其退化的低谷之前的很长一段时间，产生了另一种建筑风格，罗马风格[4]，最初为了与希腊风格区别开来，常常在其基础上使用拱。在我看来，有机建筑[5]，一种必须发展的建筑，起源于日常性地使用拱，考虑到其综合效用和美观，可以宣称，它是人类最伟大的发明。在人类不仅发明了拱并且鼓足勇气经常使用之前，建筑必然十分有局限性，致使它不可能强劲地发展。很自然的是，一个民族会使他们最先偶然发现的方便建筑形式具体化，或者像希腊人那样，接受一种传统形式，不向往任何更加复杂或有趣的形式。直到使用拱形之前，建筑工人一直受气候、材料、可利用劳动力等条件控制。但是自从采用拱形装饰，在建筑方面人类已经征服了大自然；他可以藐视一切严峻的气候，在拱形的保护下人类可以非常舒适地生活：他不需要华丽的材料；利用简陋和零碎的材料他可以达到一个很好的结果。当需要更大更广的空间时，他不需要一群被俘虏的奴隶为他实现；如果有自由公民的话，他们可以做一切必要的事，而无须耗费一生。拱形可以满足建筑的一切需要，并且自从日常地使用拱形开始，建筑的主要艺术工作就是装饰拱；唯一令人满意的风格就是决不掩饰其功能，在不影响其功能的前提下装饰、美化它。这种罗马式建筑首次使用拱的风格，但却没使罗马式建筑发扬光大。的确在其作品的一部分坦率地、简单地使用了拱，但没有装饰它；尽管其厚重及简单的高贵与可怕及焦躁的现代工程噩梦形成鲜明对比，然而，这部分罗马式建筑只能被称作工程，而非建筑。在其作品的另一方面，即装饰性方面，罗马式建筑使用拱并对其进行装饰，却掩饰了其功能，使这种建筑的结构假装仍是过梁结构，这种拱体不值得一提。因为罗马人没有自己的装饰性建筑，也许我们应该说没有他们自己的艺术，因此只是把他们对希腊雕刻建筑师思想的理解用于自己巨大的建筑上。由于希腊把他有活力及有才华的文明雕刻雕满祖先夸张的神殿，所以罗马把雕刻、神殿及一切都用在其杰出工程师的作品中。事实上，这种前置建筑或镶饰是罗马装饰的主要来源，结构和装饰没有相互渗透。既然这样，在我们看来，采用大理石饰面隐藏结实美丽的砖或混凝土墙的结构，这样做是否能从中获益似乎令人怀疑。因为别人使用大理石的水平更加高超，都没有使墙或拱变得更好。至于罗马的装饰，它本身并不太值得人们牺牲对结构的兴趣。希腊的装饰非常有限和传统，但它的一切都规规矩矩，并且有理有据，即使那种理性是基于迷信的。但是罗马的装饰不如希腊的那么自由，也失去了后者的逻辑性。它是丰富的、美观的，丰富和美观给予其存在的全部理由。罗马装饰的制作和设计渗透也不如希腊。人们无法想象希腊的装饰可以脱离其精确的制作而存在，但是由于所有重要作品上都有罗马装饰，人们几乎都希望这些作品不要制作得太完美了，以给其绚丽的美观增添某种神秘感。我再一次强调，这是一段必要的历史，从当今作品的角度批判这段历史就像对地质时代进行挑剔。在大量不和谐的现代房屋当中，在骚乱的、庸俗的和肮脏的现代城镇当中，被它摇摇欲坠和残破不堪的遗迹所触动，谁能没有任何感想呢？如果我冒昧的请您注意，作为建筑它过去是什么，这是因为滥用建筑的现象在近代发生，甚至已经持续到我们自己所处的反建筑时期。另一个原因是有必要指出它的质量没有达到使其成为一切可能诞生的新艺术的基础。在罗马建筑辉煌时期的几百年间，只有它将理论上的古典艺术从纯粹虚无中拯救出来，尽管可以说在变化来临之前它就已经枯萎了，然而它的枯萎在某种程度上也预示着即将到来的变化，实际上，这与罗马帝国[6]本身的衰落一样缓慢。正是在罗马帝国的和平时期[7]征税阶段的高峰期，在戴克里先[8]皇帝在位晚期，为了在厌倦统治生活之后有休息的地方，他建造了斯巴拉多宫殿[9]，在这个宫殿里，造反与变化首先出现在罗马艺术上，并且建筑工人承认他们的过梁是假的，即使没有过梁，拱也能起作用。

这是哥特式或有机建筑第一个模糊的开始，从此以后直到现代的开始一切都在不断地发展，但是很缓慢。的确，最初是非常缓慢，有机建筑耗费了两个世纪才从理论铸造在它身上的枷锁中解放出来。在有机建筑获得自由以前罗马的和平已经消失。但是全面的改变最终来临，这个建筑诞生了，在逻辑上它本该取代原始的过梁建筑，希腊的文明风格是过梁建筑的最终发展阶段。建筑变得有机，自此，对于有机建筑不可能有什么理论阶段了，除了灭亡没有什么能阻碍其发展。

对这种自由的第一个表达被称为拜占庭艺术[10]，并且在名称方面没有什么反对意见。几个世纪以来，拜占庭[11]是中心，而且在这个城市的第一个伟大作品是“圣智大教堂”[12]，又名“圣索菲亚大教堂”是由查士丁尼[13]建于540年[14]，它至今仍是这个城市中最伟大的作品。这个极具魅力建筑的风格所跳跃到的高度是出人意料的，因为早期很少有非常重要的突出作品。至于它的起源，当然，所有建筑物都是通过古典艺术的病态而建立的，同时，作品的传统形式和方式仍然继续使用，包括罗马建筑形式，这些传统如今由希腊人掌握着。这种希腊人所掌握的罗马希腊建筑与很多其他来源的传统交汇在一起。叙利亚是多种族和风俗结合的边界地区，在这里东西结合，拜占庭艺术便诞生了。其特点是结构简单和轮廓清晰，惊人的精美装饰与令人厌恶的模糊相结合。它色彩明亮、清晰，线条简洁却令人厌恶的荒芜和模糊，尽管它汲取了许多罗马建筑形式并使之重新振兴，虽庸冗却不华丽，精神上恰恰与罗马建筑相反。它最完美的作品也是人类创作中最美的作品，尽管拥有华贵的魅力和平静，但它孕育了未来旺盛的活力，因为从它在圣索菲亚的初期起，哥特式建筑已经在一千年前就出现了。无论是东方还是西方，它在世界蔓延，在任何人们根据其历史进行建造的地方蔓延。在东方，它与本地人的传统相结合，尤其是萨珊波斯帝国时期[15]，产生了我们错误地称之为阿拉伯艺术（由于阿拉伯人从未有过任何艺术）的完整体系，实际上从伊斯法罕[16]到格拉纳达[17]都盛行着这种艺术。在西方，它扎根在查士丁尼已经征服的意大利境内，尤其是拉文纳[18]，并由此传入威尼斯。从意大利，或者也许就是拜占庭本身，它被带入德国和前诺曼[19]时期的英格兰，甚至影响爱尔兰和斯堪的纳维亚[20]。罗马接受了它，并把它从法国南部的另一条道路传播出去，在这个过程中它受到地方罗马建筑的影响，并产生了一种非常强烈有序的、合逻辑的亚风格，那正是人们想象中古罗马人应该建立的风格，如果他们能够抵抗使他们着迷的被征服者希腊人。从那里又在法国各地蔓延，这是最具建筑天赋的建筑的第一次发展，然后在法国北部受到斯堪的纳维亚和日耳曼部落的影响，产生了圆拱形哥特式风格的最终形式（我们称之为“诺曼”）。精力旺盛的勇士将其带入西西里[21]，在那里与撒拉逊风格的拜占庭式结合并且产生了动人的作品。但我们知道，在我们自己的国家中我们对它最了解，因为随威廉公爵[22]入侵的修道士广泛地将它付诸实践，而且它已经驱除了经由德国来源于拜占庭的英国本土风格。

在新变化出现之际，在一个足够重大的形式变化（尽管是非本质变化）即将来临之际，我们可以停下来再一次思考其本质属性是什么。这是自创造拱型结构以后获得荣誉的第一种风格，非但没有掩饰拱型结构的存在还以合乎逻辑的方式对它进行装饰。虽然这样已经够多了，但它获得了更多的彻底自由，这种自由确实是其独创性的源泉。它已经摆脱希腊迷信和贵族的枷锁，逃离了罗马迂腐的羁绊，尽管它必须要有一定的规则使其保持某种风格，但是它以自由意志遵循规则，并且是无意识地遵循规则。简约之美（即赤裸和荒芜）这一行业术语并没有颠覆它，它不以冗余的材料、超烦琐的装饰或任何超过本质的东西为耻。它既可以创作苗条的优雅，也可以创作强健的坚实，随心所欲。材料并不是它的主人，而是它的仆人。它的美不需要大理石，石头、砖块或木材也都可以做到。在缺少雕刻术时，它会把玻璃立方体或任何闪烁的、色泽亮丽的东西聚集在一起覆盖其内部的每一部分，使其好像披上仙女般光彩壮丽的外衣，或者将单纯的石膏塑造成错综复杂的作品，这几乎无法模仿，但其精美和表现丰富的线条从未令观赏者的眼睛厌倦过。它喜爱平滑，这是人类双手所能给予的极度完美。但如果材料不行或技能不够，粗糙的作品也要这样制作，它也会以其独出心裁的方案吸引我们。至于古典时期的残酷统治，除了伟人之外每个人都遭受过的公认奴隶制已经远去，和谐的自由已取代其位。主从关系仍然存在，然而那是有效的主从关系，这并不是细节上的一致，这是真正的、必要的、非迂腐的主从关系。

哥特式建筑在欧洲工匠的手里才获得这种完整的自由，这些欧洲工匠是自由城市的基尔特公会[23]会员，他们在许多血腥的领域证明他们是如此重视集体生活，用他们慷慨的勇猛保护集体生活，不顾个人生命危险。但是从一开始，这种趋势就朝着解放手和思想自由的方向发展，手和思想的自由从属于使自由成为可能的齐心协力的和谐。那正是哥特式建筑的精神。

让我们跟随历史继续前进，直到这时，发展总是从东方到西方，也就是说，东方带领着西方发展。现在西方必须前往东方从那里获取新的收获。在欧洲中世纪早期，宗教复兴就是移动的能量来源之一，该宗教（带着对崇拜对象可见标志物的热忱）促使人们访问东方，因此东方成为朝拜的中心。从那时起，出现了像战争般的各种族十字军东征[24]的朝圣队伍，他们绝不准备把面颊转向打击者。西方探索东方的极端趋势在十字军东征前并没有开始，这是事实。很久以前曾有稀疏的朝圣者向东方出发，斯堪的纳维亚人已经发现了进军拜占庭的方式，他们不是作为朝圣者而是军人，以拥有斯堪的纳维亚血统的一名卫士的名义支持希腊恺撒大帝[25]的统治，并且他们中的很多人返回祖国，带回艺术思想，这些思想在人数不多但精力旺盛的群体中并没有丢失。但是十字军东征从东方带来许许多多的收获，就像批发一样。我认为那些收获的一部分就是引发从圆拱到尖形哥特式变化的艺术思想。那时（也许我们现在也是），只能允许他们出生国的社会系统存在，不能有其他社会系统存在，这是侵略他国胜利者通常的做法；因此，被征服的叙利亚共和国迎来了一个预期的封建政府，以耶路撒冷王为封建君主，即一个由使者认可的穿着层层金属盔甲外衣的人担任君主。然而，在此新王国定居的西方人，虽然数量很少，但他们乐意接受他们看到的周围艺术的印象，撒拉逊人风格的拜占庭艺术，毕竟这与他们自己的思想产生共鸣：并且这些印象导致变化。因为不可能认为，在从圆拱到尖形哥特式的逐渐变化过程中从东方有任何直接的形式借用：没有比同类风格影响更明显的作用了，其卓越的明亮和优雅为发展指明了可以采取的道路。

当然，当这种形式变化来临时，一定是令人吃惊的：当它经历过短暂的、最美丽的转变，尖拱哥特式确实成为了一个精力旺盛的青年。它几乎承载了它能够承载的所有力量和优雅的组合：实际上，有时人们可能认为它过分重视明亮的作用，例如，索尔兹伯里大教堂[26]的内部。如果11世纪的某个住持或僧侣能被带到13世纪重建的教堂，他几乎会认为发生了某种奇迹：巨大的圆柱形或方形支柱变成修长优雅的集柱群，高大宽阔的并有优雅图案和主题釉面的尖顶窗取代狭窄的圆头窗，预示着下个世纪精心制作的花饰窗格的萌芽，威武的拱顶横跨宽广的教堂中殿代替过去平坦的木制天花板，每一部分都以极端丰富的装饰线条精心处理，典雅整齐的花式雕塑，想象力丰富的优雅完美的绘画。总之，一种完整、条理分明的风格，没有任何遗憾之处，应给予人类才智及想象力崇高的敬意，成熟的哥特式建筑已经摆脱了拜占庭及罗马的束缚，然而，在梯林斯墙[27]和迈锡尼遗址[28]的基础上创新以后，它一步一个脚印，没有间歇和刻意的努力，已经到达其辉煌地位。

在社会冲突时期取得了这一发展，18世纪的历史学家忽视了该发展的事实和趋势，但我们现代学校中逐步发展的历史学家为我们打开了这一视野。12世纪，真正的工匠发现他们终于与初期自由民协会的发展交锋，自由民协会的发展是欧洲部落社会的残存：在与这些排外的贵族市民公然对抗中，工匠们已经投身于手工业行会事业中，并且伸张他们的自由免于受到合法的、任意的镇压，而且要求城镇政府给予理应获得的份额；到13世纪末，他们占领的职位无处不在，并且在接下来的五六十年里，自由城镇的镇长是手工业行会的代表，一切手工艺都由他们的协会掌管。他们在这一阶段的胜利处于哥特式建筑达到了巅峰时期，在很多事件中，库尔特雷之战[29]标志着他们的胜利，在此战斗中法国骑士在弗兰德斯[30]编织工面前转身逃跑。我认为必须承认的是，在这一时期就美的建筑艺术而言，法国和英格兰是优秀建筑国家的标准。然而遍布整个智能世界的明亮、闪耀和喜悦的艺术，现今已经达到了极致的优雅和美丽。不仅如此，上文我已经提到在其家具业方面，欧洲的各个国家之间都在共享各种各样的优秀之处。此外，我也注意到，哥特式室内是暗淡灰白的、仅依赖建筑形式，这种必然普通的概念如此远离事实，就像一座希腊神殿屹立于所有汉白玉的贞洁中一样。我们必须记住，正相反，两类建筑都需加以装饰，它们真正装饰的最高贵部分就是它们承载着一部伟大的史诗——一个打动了人类心灵和思想的故事。然而在哥特式建筑中，特别是近半世纪以来，它的每一部分包括墙壁、窗户、地板等都被看作是人类伟大历史进程中重大事件的代表空间，因为它已经把自己呈现给那个时代的人的思想。这种空间被最率直慷慨地使用着，人们可以公正地说，无论在哪里，如果可以绘制出一幅画，那么就是在那里绘制的。

目前，哥特式建筑已经完成了它的内容。但丁[31]、乔叟[32]、佩特拉克[33]、有关德国英雄的歌谣史诗、法国传奇、英国森林民谣、所谓的起义史诗、冰岛英雄传奇故事、弗鲁瓦萨尔[34]及编年史都代表其文学。其绘画包含众多画家，以意大利和法兰德斯[35]的画家为主，两位伟大的现实主义者乔托[36]和凡·艾克[37]位居榜首。然而每个村庄甚至都有自己的画家、雕刻匠和演员。任何人只要制作手工艺作品就是艺术家。其残骸中留下的几件家庭用品都是美的奇迹。它编造的精美织物和刺绣配得上其最美的建筑，它的绘画作品及装饰精美的图书本身就足够创造一段伟大的艺术时期。以成就自己的史诗为目的，在准确无误装饰的完整性上，在双手的惊人技巧上，它们是如此的优秀。总之，那些我们称之为高贵建筑的杰作及建筑样本是那个时代全部艺术的标准，并且讲述了生命鼎盛时期所有艺术完整性的传奇以及接下来的悲伤故事，观赏它们构成了我们现今假期生活的内容。任何人类已经基本实现的事物仍然存在着衰落和死亡，这是为了新事物可以从中产生。当然，中世纪的这种精彩喜悦的艺术也绝不能逃脱它的命运。

在14世纪中叶，欧洲被神秘恐怖的黑死病[38]（一种恐怖的疾病，和可能埋伏在现代世界的某种病相同）所侵蚀，并且随之而来的还有与其不相上下的商业主义和官僚主义的神秘害虫侵害我们。这种不幸是中世纪的转折点；巨大的变化再次即将到来。

即将到来的变化的出现和发展以完全忠诚的艺术为标记。在大瘟疫之后的几年里，哥特式建筑开始改变它的特性，它开始在风格上停滞不前，而且在其鼎盛时期慷慨地给予我们的无限的美丽也有所缩减。在某些地方，例如在英国它变得更加晦涩难懂，有时甚至变得更加普通；在其他地方，像在法国它失去了整齐有序、刚劲有力和纯洁简单的线条。但是长久以来它仍然充满活力、精力旺盛，甚至表现出比以前更大的适应发展中社会所需要的能力。风格变化没有负面地影响到它所有内容，一些附属艺术，例如佛兰德壁毯和英国木雕，许多年来非但没有失去反而有所收获。

最后，随着15世纪即将结束，巨大的变化越来越明显；我们必须记住，这不是换汤不换药的形式变化，而是一种不可避免地影响每一形式的精神变化。对此变化我们多少有几分夸耀，至于把艺术称为新生，这相当不真实。但是还是让我们看看这是什么意思吧。

社会正准备彻底地重塑其组成部分：中世纪的身份社会正在转变成现代的契约制社会。新的阶层正在形成以适应新的生产制度，新的生产制度的产生是社会重塑的根本原因；随着官僚主义的重生政治生活重新开始。由于政治的与自然的是不同的，所以民族被拼凑出来以供官僚主义使用，这本身就是新系统的必需品。而且，塑造了一种新的宗教以适应新的生活理论，简而言之，商业主义时代诞生了。

现在有些人认为，这一切在那时都是带给世界痛苦和堕落的根源，现在也仍然在引起痛苦和堕落，而且作为一种制度，它必让位于更好的制度。然而，我们承认，它可以履行一种慈善的职责。在它带来的所有丑陋和混乱中，它是发展思想自由和人类能力的必要手段，它征服大自然满足其物质需求。我说这种巨大的变化是必要的和必然的，并且在这方面，即商业和商业科学与政治方面，它是一种真正的新生。在这方面，它没有追忆过去而是展望未来。在过去的历史中它无所能及，并非建立在迂腐的模型基础上。必要性，而非心血来潮，是其工艺大师。

但是，说来也怪，这个社会、政治、宗教及科学的新生活体一定要与过去艺术的死尸捆绑在一起。在每一方面它都命令人们期待着一些变化或者其他，这是好事还是坏事。在艺术方面，它以最严苛的教育方式命令人们穿过创始人和著名人物创造它们并且藐视它们的时代，回顾一千年前就已经消失了的艺术。迄今，从一开始往事已经成为过去，现在已经不存在的这一切不知不觉到出现在现今人们的眼前。从此以后，过去将是我们的现在，并且它空虚的挡墙将未来与我们隔开。目前，有许多艺术家没有充分地估量这次变化的巨大和影响，以及此次变化与以砖块和石板为材料的维多利亚建筑[39]是如此得紧密相连，这促进我们变成我们现在的样子——傻瓜。你可能会说，人们对美的观念怎么会变成这样呢？那么，他们对美的观念变了吗？难道不是美在不知不觉中已不再是那个时代人们想要达到的目标了吗？

曾经，当面对所谓的杰作之一——新圣经，也就是复兴的古典风格，例如伦敦的圣保罗大教堂[40]时，这个问题一度困扰我。我发现我很难处于这样的心境，可以接受这样的一件作品，即使是作为最新最差的哥特式建筑的替代品。这种品位在我看来就像一个应该更喜欢他受女士喜爱的秃顶男人的品位。但是现在我知道这不是一个当时活着的有鉴赏美的能力的任何人可以选择的问题。如果以美为理由变化已经发生了，那么它将完全地无法解释了，但它并非如此。在文艺复兴初期，就有具有顶级素质的艺术家。但是那些伟人（请注意，他们的伟大只体现在作品中，在大部分的合作、绘画和雕刻中没能得以实现）实际上只是绽放时代——哥特式时期的产物。文艺复兴以后的时期已经充分证明，它在所有艺术方面除了愚蠢和花言巧语外什么也没创造出来。少数个别艺术家是真正的伟大，但艺术家已不再是艺术大师，因为人们已经不再成为艺术大师，而是艺术家。艺术大师都是学究（卖弄学问的人）。罗马的圣彼得大教堂[41]和伦敦的圣保罗大教堂都不是为了美观或者既美观又方便而建。也不是为了当公民欣喜若狂的时候，或当他们极度悲伤或充满希望的时候作为他们的归宿而建，而是要体面、值得尊敬，因此展示出并非无知野蛮人的愚昧建造者心里唯一的民族和时代的适量教化和知识。建造它们是为了给正派缺乏热情的教会主义提供归宿，现在我们有时称教会主义者为绅士。美和浪漫不在他们建造者的愿望之列。否则当时也不会如此。我再次强调，建筑的美是参与建造作品的全体工匠的和谐智能合作的结果。当低能儿一样的新生儿已经长成精力旺盛的顽童的时候，已不再有这样的工匠了。到那个时候，欧洲已经开始把艺术工匠的伟大队伍转变成巨大的人力机械储备，虽然他们曾经创造了欧洲城市、教堂、庄园住宅及村舍的美，但是转变后如果他们仔细思考他们的辛劳，想着他们正在做什么，他们几乎没有机会谋取简陋的生计，他们不需要思考，也不会有人资助他们思考，或者不允许他们思考。我希望，这一次我们已基本使这项发明完美，然后一项新的发明必须立刻取代它，那就是幸福。因为只要利用此项发明，你就无须在建筑方面折磨自己，因为你得不到它，如同我们通常对人生的表达那样，那是真正的东西。

但是目前我不会谈任何对新生的苦难所提供的直接救济，我只能告诉你们如果可以，你们应该做些什么。通过简短地对艺术发展的历史回顾，我希望你们看到的结果是，今天只有一种建筑风格可能在其基础上建立真正逼真的艺术，可以自由地使自己适应变化的社会生活、气候等条件，这种风格就是哥特式建筑。现在大部分我们所谓的建筑仅仅是模仿一个模仿的模仿，这是无聊的尊敬传统的结果，或者是愚蠢的没有根源或发展的突发奇想的结果。

让我们看一个用于为艺术服务的学究式回顾的例子。当一个希腊柱状寺庙真实存在时，它是一种神圣的护栏保卫着一片圣地。这些东西是当时人们需要的，自然，他们使希腊寺庙的形式受希腊思潮的影响并且赋予其希腊人的心境。但是我们需要这些东西吗？如果需要，我想知道是出于什么目的。如果我们假装需要因此把希腊寺庙强加于现代城市，那么我们就做出了一个重大而令人厌恶的荒谬行为，如同你可能看到横跨在爱丁堡的湖泊的一座丑陋的桥一样。在这些岛屿中，我们需要屋顶和带窗户的墙壁，但希腊寺庙并没有冒昧地给我们这些东西。

罗马建筑会允许我们拥有这些必需品吗？也许，只有在我们为墙壁、屋顶和窗户感到羞耻的条件下，自称我们没得到它们中的任何一样，而仅仅是异想天开地尝试模仿希腊寺庙时，才是可以的。

新古典主义建筑会给予我们这些必需品吗？几乎与罗马的条件相同，除非当它大部分像哥特式建筑时。它将强迫我们自称我们既没有屋顶和墙壁也没有窗户，不过是希腊寺庙经罗马滑稽模仿的仿制品。

现在哥特式建筑拥有它不必感到羞耻的墙壁，在那些墙壁里你可以在任何你愿意的地方镶嵌窗户。如果你愿意还可以装饰它们以显示你不以其为耻。你必须拥有的把窗户变成房子最伟大的美景之一，你无须使逻辑混乱，以便不用坐在自己漆黑昏暗的房屋里，如同虚假的假罗马风格一样。我认为，你的窗户不再是对人性弱点的让步，或是一件丑陋的必需品（公平地说通常都足够丑陋），而是建筑艺术的辉煌。至于虚假风格中的屋顶，除非建筑感染上哥特式常识，否则你必须假装你生活在一个炎热的国度，你除了雨篷不需要任何东西，这些岛屿从不下雨或下雪。然而，在哥特式建筑中内部屋顶和外部屋顶（尤其是内部屋顶，因为它是最合适的）都是建筑美的桂冠，是建筑核心最永久的地方。

再一次考虑一下我们建筑物的外部，所有过路人都熟悉建筑物的那个部分，并且无人能把它们变成私有财产除非他在人迹罕至的公园建造房屋。我们新古典建筑的原型是专为处于明亮干燥气候的大理石所设计，这最适合使其风化成一种黄金般的色调。我们真的喜欢一座备受十月至第二年六月英国冬季的粗暴所折磨、饱经风霜的新古典主义建筑物吗？而另一方面，我们任何人能不被一座幸免于修补者双手的哥特式建筑物风化的表面所感动吗？难道我们不是清楚地知道后者是自然的作品，使用人类的双手和意志作为工具创造出更加杰出的自然氛围吗？

的确，时间将使我不能对两种建筑进行多方面的比较，一种是纯粹迂腐地模仿曾经存在事物的建筑，另一种是我认为经过很多世纪的发展仍然拥有强劲发展能力的建筑，由于它的生命被武断地重现一种已经长期失去生存和发展要素的风格所缩短。然后一劳永逸地，现代世界发现当代的折中主义贫瘠无结果时，他的需要和意志会有一种建筑风格，我必须再次告诉你，这种建筑风格只能作为广泛深刻的、摧毁了封建主义的变化的一部分。当建筑风格已经得出这种结论，那么它将必然真正地具有历史意义，它最好不能摒除传统，它至少不能开始做一些与以前已经做过的事完全不同的事。然而不管它的形式可能会是什么样，其精神将满足它自己时代的需要和愿望，而不是过去需要和愿望的假装模拟。因此，它会记住过去的历史，创造现在的历史，并教授未来的历史。至于它的形式，我知道其形式以及精神一定是哥特式的，除此以外别无选择；一种有机风格无法突然从一种折中风格里冒出，它只能出自一种有机风格。因此，将来我们的建筑风格必须是哥特式建筑。

在世界需要建筑的同时，我们将做些什么？同时？终究有同时吗？难道我们现在不需要哥特式建筑也没有迫切恳求新鲜的新生吗？在我看来正是如此。确实现在的世界比五十年前的更加丑恶。不过人们认为丑恶是令人满意的事，自鸣得意地把它看作是文明的标志。现在我们不再得意洋洋，而是在以一种悲观混乱的方式抱怨。我们感到一种失落，并且除非我们非常不真实和无助，否则我们应立即开始试图弥补那种失落。只要我们感觉缺少了艺术，它就不能消失，我认为，尽管我们或许应该尝试许多迂回方法来填补缺失，但最后我们应该驶入唯一正确道路得出结论，不顾一切冒险和损失，不愉快和奴性的工作应该结束。那时，我们应该亲手建造哥特式建筑，并且了解它的过去和现在。

为工艺品人士演讲

展览社团，伦敦，1889

[1] 哥特式建筑（Gothic Architecture）是一种兴盛于中世纪的建筑风格。它由罗马式建筑发展而来，其主要特点是拱形结构，整体风格为高耸削瘦。——译者注

[2] 中世纪（Middle Ages）指约公元476年至公元1453年这一时期，是欧洲历史上的一个时期，自西罗马帝国灭亡数百年后起，封建制度占统治地位，直到文艺复兴时期资本主义抬头的时期为止。——译者注

[3] 伯利克里（Periclean）时代是指古希腊的一个历史时期，始于波希战争的终结，终于伯利克里离世或伯罗奔尼撒战争结束，是古希腊的全盛时期。——译者注

[4] 罗马风格多见于修道院和教堂，是10世纪晚期到12世纪初欧洲的建筑风格，因采用古罗马式的拱而得名。这种建筑风格给人以雄浑庄重的印象。——译者注

[5] 有机建筑（organic architecture）是一种建筑哲学，倡导人类居所与自然界的和谐，通过系统综合的设计使建筑、陈设和环境浑然一体。——译者注

[6] 罗马帝国是古罗马的一个时期，公元前27年成立罗马共和国，采用共和政体，395年分裂为东罗马帝国和西罗马帝国。——译者注

[7] 罗马和平时期（Roman Peace）是指大约从公元前27年到公元180年这一段时间，在这一时期罗马帝国相对和平、武力扩张最小。——译者注

[8] 戴克里先（Diocletian, 244-313），罗马皇帝，284年至305年在位。——译者注

[9] 斯巴拉多宫（palace of Spalato）建于公元305年。宫殿正门有6根大理石柱，其工程浩繁，宏伟壮丽。罗马皇帝戴克里先在这个宫殿中度过了他衰落的年代。——译者注

[10] 拜占庭艺术（Byzantine Art）是指约5世纪到15世纪中期在东罗马帝国发展起来的艺术风格和技巧。它成为希腊和罗马古典艺术与后来的西欧艺术之间的纽带。拜占庭艺术融合了古典艺术的自然主义和东方艺术的抽象装饰特质。——译者注

[11] 拜占庭这个称呼来源于东罗马帝国的首都君士坦丁堡的前身：古希腊的殖民地拜占庭城。东罗马帝国以巴尔干半岛为中心，领属包括小亚细亚、叙利亚、巴勒斯坦、埃及以及美索不达米亚和南高加索的一部分。——译者注

[12] 圣智大教堂（Church of the Holy Wisdom），也叫索菲亚大教堂（Church of Hagia Sophia），360年始建于君士坦丁堡，作为帝国皇帝的教堂。后来被毁。532年罗马皇帝查士丁尼下令重建。该教堂以其巨大的穹顶而闻名，被视为拜占庭建筑的典范。——译者注

[13] 查士丁尼（Justinian）是东罗马帝国皇帝，他的统治时间是从527年到565年。他也被称为查士丁尼大帝。查士丁尼一世是古罗马时代末期最重要的一位统治者，他的统治期一般被看作是历史上从古典时期转化为希腊化时代的东罗马帝国的重要过渡期。——译者注

[14] 关于圣智大教堂的建造时间，原文中的年代与译者所查资料有矛盾，故此说明。根据刘增泉著《西洋中古史》、虞建荣著《世界文化史》等资料显示，圣智大教堂是在公元532年至公元537年期间修建的。因此在此页注释[3]中对圣智大教堂使用的年代依译者所查的资料，而在译文中本着忠实原则，与原文保持一致。——译者注

[15] 萨珊波斯帝国（226-650年）是波斯在公元3世纪至7世纪的统治王朝，亦是波斯自阿契美尼德帝国之后的首次统一。——译者注

[16] 伊斯法罕（Ispahan）位于伊朗中部，是伊朗第三大城。多次成为王朝首都。拥有11-19世纪的各种伊斯兰风格建筑，而且它作为“丝绸之路”的南路要站，是东西方商贸的集中地。——译者注

[17] 格拉纳达（Granada）是西班牙的一个城市。在历史上，格拉纳达市是西欧地区伊斯兰国家的最后一个堡垒，古老的伊斯兰教给格拉那达留下了星罗棋布的历史文化遗产。——译者注

[18] 拉文纳（Ravenna）是意大利古都，公元402年到公元476年为西罗马帝国都城。在今意大利北部拉文纳省。——译者注

[19] 前诺曼时期（pre-Norman）指1066年诺曼公爵征服英格兰之前。——译者注

[20] 斯堪的纳维亚（Scandinavia）在地理上是指斯堪的纳维亚半岛，包括挪威和瑞典，文化与政治上则包含丹麦。——译者注

[21] 西西里（Sicily）是地中海最大的岛，属于意大利。——译者注

[22] 威廉公爵是法国诺曼底公爵，1066年征服英格兰，并于12月在威斯敏斯特大教堂加冕为英格兰国王。——译者注

[23] 基尔特公会是同业公会的成员，该同业公会的基本目的是保护工匠不受外来竞争，也不受同行竞争。——译者注

[24] 十字军东征是一系列在罗马天主教教皇的准许下，由西欧的封建领主和骑士对地中海东岸的国家发动的持续了近200年的宗教性战争。十字军东征一般被认为是天主教的暴行。尽管如此，十字军东征使西欧直接接触到了当时更为先进的拜占庭文明和伊斯兰文明。这种接触，为欧洲的文艺复兴开辟了道路。——译者注

[25] 恺撒大帝是罗马共和国末期杰出的军事统帅、政治家。——译者注

[26] 索尔兹伯里大教堂（Salisbury Cathedral）是英国哥特式教堂的典范，其塔尖高123米，为英国塔高之冠。建于1220年，用时38年。——译者注

[27] 梯林斯（Tiryns）是希腊的一个重要遗址。该城以城墙坚实著称，有“铜墙铁壁”（mighty walled）的称号。在迈锡尼文明晚期它逐渐衰落，公元前468年被阿尔戈斯所消灭。——译者注

[28] 迈锡尼遗址（Treasury of Mycenae）是希腊古城。——译者注

[29] 库尔特雷之战（Battle of Courtray）发生在1302年的比利时。在这次战斗中，一方是以农民为主的队伍，另一方是法国骑士，战斗中法国骑士被打败。——译者注

[30] 弗兰德斯（Flemish）是讲荷兰语的比利时人。——译者注

[31] 但丁（Dante,1265-1321），意大利中世纪诗人，《神曲》是其最有价值的作品。——译者注

[32] 乔叟（Chaucer, 1343-1400），英国中世纪作家，最杰出的作品是《坎特伯雷故事集》。——译者注

[33] 佩特拉克（Petrarch,1304-1374），意大利学者、诗人。他与但丁被认为是文艺复兴之父。——译者注

[34] 弗鲁瓦萨尔（Froissart）是英国作曲家埃尔加（E. Edward Elgar, 1857-1934）的作品。——译者注

[35] 法兰德斯（Flauders）是西欧的一个历史地名，中世纪初期，毛纺织手工业在佛兰德发展起来，佛兰德斯曾是中古欧洲的一个重要的封建诸侯国家，通常是法兰西王国的封邑，现在比利时仍有两个省区以法兰德斯为名。——译者注

[36] 乔托（Giotto, 1266-1336）是意大利文艺复兴时期杰出的雕刻家、画家和建筑师，被认为是意大利文艺复兴时期的开创者，被誉为“欧洲绘画之父”。——译者注

[37] 凡·艾克(Van Eyck, 1385-1441) ，早期尼德兰画派最伟大的画家之一，也是15世纪北欧后哥德式绘画的创始人。被誉为“油画之父”。——译者注

[38] 黑死病(Black Death), 14世纪蔓延于欧亚两洲的鼠疫。——译者注

[39] 维多利亚建筑覆盖了许多不同的风格。大约由1840年到1900年。该时期的建筑特色不仅打上了当时的政治烙印，也反映了广大中产阶层在工业革命时间日益增加的需求。——译者注

[40] 圣保罗大教堂（St. Paul's）是巴洛克风格建筑的代表，以其壮观的圆形屋顶而闻名，是英国古典主义建筑的代表。——译者注

[41] 圣彼得大教堂（St. Peter's）是罗马基督教的中心教堂，欧洲天主教徒的朝圣地与梵蒂冈罗马教皇的教廷，位于梵蒂冈，是全世界第一大圆顶教堂。——译者注

平凡而重要的艺术

在随后的另一次演讲中我将有幸向大家介绍一种平凡但很重要的艺术形式，我们通常称之为装饰艺术，我将会和大家一同研究它的历史概况。其实，我更愿意今天就讲有关该伟大产业的历史这一话题。但是，由于在第三次演讲中，我将会提到与装饰艺术相关的形形色色的艺术行为，我觉得如果我没有向你们提前介绍装饰艺术的特性、范围、现状，以及未来的发展前景，你们很可能就会对那次演讲的主题感到困惑并认为我作了太多不必要的解释。我下面的演讲中也许会涉及许多你们不同意的观点，因此，我必须从一开始就得让你们相信不论我指责或是赞扬某种艺术，我绝无伤怀往昔、厌恶当前，以及对未来失望之意。并且，我相信我们身边的任何改变都是生命存在于这个世界的一种信号，也终将以不同的方式改善着人们的生活。当然，它们发生作用的方式是我们无法知晓的。

关于装饰艺术的范围和特性，首先，我必须声明尽管我演讲的主题已涉及这一艺术的细节，但我将不会过多谈及建筑、雕塑、绘画这些伟大的艺术行为。但是，我也不愿把装饰艺术与这些艺术完全割裂，因为这种情况仅仅是发生在近来一些极端复杂的情况下，并且一旦把这两种艺术分离，艺术的整体发展也将变得病态。在二者分离的状态下，居于次位的装饰性艺术会变得琐碎、机械、缺乏智慧并且无力抵抗因潮流或不诚实而导致的改变；而居于首位的伟大艺术也许仍会在那些艺术家以及能工巧匠们中盛行一段时间，但也终将因缺乏装饰艺术的支持以及艺术家间的相互帮助而失去作为流行艺术的资格，最终沦落为毫无意义的浮夸艺术的附属品，或是极少数无聊的富人的玩物。

但是，到目前为止，我的这些演讲都没有涉及建筑、雕塑和绘画，并且最令人伤感的是从较小层面观之，这些艺术形式，尤其是知识分子所进行的艺术行为，当前皆与装饰艺术分道扬镳。而我们的这次演讲所研究的主题是装饰艺术是人们平时美化日常生活不可或缺的。这门艺术不仅范围宽泛并且也是一个伟大的行业，同时，它不仅是历史的重要组成部分，也是研究相关历史的至关重要的工具。

囊括了房屋建筑、绘画、木工、铁艺、陶艺、纺织以及其他多种艺术，装饰艺术不愧是一个庞大的行业。同时，这门艺术不仅对我们大众的日常生活至关重要，对手工艺人更为重要。尽管装饰艺术很少在我们使用或是流行的物品中出现，但这些物品的内在都融入了装饰艺术的元素。的确，由于我们对这些物品太过熟悉，我们会认为它们的产生与存在是极其自然的，并且我们对它们早已习以为常，就像对待用来生火的干柴棍上的苔藓那样。还有更糟糕的事情呢！对于装饰艺术的实用性和内涵我们也同样视而不见。其实，凡是经由人类双手创造的物品皆有它们的存在形式，它们有的很美，而有的则很丑。美是因为它们与自然的发展相协调并起促进作用；丑则是它们与自然规律相违背，并起阻碍作用。总之，这些事物都不能与自然断绝联系。对于我们人类而言，不论我们是忙碌还是闲散，兴高采烈还是闷闷不乐，我们其实早已厌倦周围熟知的一切。而这也是装饰艺术的存在价值所在。正是由于这种艺术的存在以及它与自然的完美结合，我们眼前不再是单调的形式，这也使我们的感官变得敏锐。这门艺术使复杂精巧的形式得以存在，使新的超脱自然的形式被创造出来，同时，它也引导着工匠们的制作工艺发生着改变，这种改变也许会一直持续，直到他们手中的网、杯子及刻刀不但具有自然气息而且还无比可爱，像绿油油的田野、生意盎然的河岸和山麓那样。

装饰艺术的一大功用就是人们在使用物品时享受其中的乐趣，另外，为了保证这种乐趣的持续，它的另一大功用，即形式构造便应运而生了。

现在，大家是不是觉得我们要研究的课题很重要？同时，我要指出，若没有装饰艺术，我们的生活将会变得空洞、没有趣味，而我们的劳作也将变为一种折磨，使身心疲惫不堪。

对于这些艺术能够给我们的工作带来乐趣的功能，目前我还没有找到一种方式来大力宣扬。但是，我知道真理是不怕被重复说明的，因此请允许我再向大家多讲一些，尤其是我已想起某位仍在世的大艺术家曾对这门艺术作过评价。我的朋友约翰·拉斯金[1]教授在他的著作《威尼斯的石头》[2]的第二卷的某一章节中提道：我们能够从哥特式建筑的特征以及那些工匠的技艺中感知到关于这一主题的最为真实的东西。我所能讲的也无非是对拉斯金教授的回应，但我必须重申，对真理的反复说明还是有作用的，那就是防止这一真理被人们遗忘。因此，我愿意进一步说明：我们都知道人们对劳动的种种不满与怨言，但是我们也必须认识到，对工匠的谴责一直都是谴责其愚蠢，谴责内在与外在的不公正。并且，我认为没有人会认为终日坐在那里无所事事是一种有趣的生活方式，这也许就是庸人们常说的绅士般的生活吧。

尽管有枯燥的工作摆在我们面前并且从始至终我们都将会疲惫不堪，我仍愿意重复做这样的工作也不愿坐在那里无所事事。但是，装饰艺术的出现改变了这一切。它极大地美化了我们的工作，使其不再枯燥乏味，这种艺术广泛传播、充满智慧并且得到制作者和使用者的深刻理解。从此，人们对劳作的诅咒声渐渐消失，人们也许会争先恐后地感受劳动的乐趣。我相信没有任何事物能够如此地改变世界，没有任何事物能够如此地满足我们的愿望。

既然目前人们对于装饰艺术存在偏见，认为这门艺术是奢侈、暴政和迷信的附属品，我必须声明，在某种程度上，装饰艺术同其他的优秀艺术形式一样曾被用于这些场合。但是，我们不可忽视另一个重要的事实：在许多国家，最有活力和自由的时期也同样是艺术蓬勃发展的时期，这些艺术也有可能在那些穷困的被压迫的人们中间传播。同时，我也认为被压迫的人们并不是完全具有追求艺术的自由的，尤其是当这些艺术被迷信、奢侈所控制，并且在它们的影响下病态发展时。你们也许不会忘记，人们会提到教皇、国王和帝王建造了这样或那样的宫殿，这其实仅仅是说说而已。当你翻开历史书时，你将会知晓谁建造了威斯敏斯特教堂[3]，又是谁建造了君士坦丁堡的圣·索菲亚大教堂，当然，你也会了解亨利三世[4]和查士丁尼大帝。是什么让你记住了这些名字？仅仅是这些历史书吗？还是那些像你我这样不知名的工匠所留下的不朽建筑？

这门艺术现在使我们注意到生活中的细节，同时，它也能带我们回顾历史，因为它是历史的一部分，并且任何国家与社会都不能同它分离。并且，很多我们并不认识的人也都认可装饰艺术之美。历史与装饰艺术的联系是那么的紧密以至于我们在艺术创作时不能摆脱历史的影响。我可以毫不夸张地说没有人能够随随便便就勾勒出一块布料的装饰图案，或者一件普通的器皿或是家具的形状，不论这个人多么有灵感。同时，那些过去代表重要意义的艺术形式现在已被遗忘或仅仅成为工匠的一种习惯。那些潜心研究这门能给人带来欢乐的艺术的人将有机会通过它来了解历史：人类起源之初的思想、古老东方的帝国、古希腊的活力与光辉、罗马帝国的庞大、帝国瓦解时散落世间的善与恶、东西方以及南北方文明的碰撞、拜占庭帝国的富饶、伊斯兰教的兴起、内讧和衰落、斯堪的纳维亚的蜿蜒、十字军、现代欧洲帝国的建立、新兴自由思想与古老思想的抗争。而这些历史都与艺术密不可分，并且，我敢断言，任何一个对装饰艺术做过细致研究的学生都会熟知这些历史。当我想到这些，并认识到装饰艺术对我们研究历史的重要帮助时，我不禁感叹：那些历史曾一度被国王和恶棍密谋篡改，但融入其中的装饰艺术却能向人们展示真实的历史，其如此伟大的作用并不亚于它对现实生活的美化作用。同时，对于历史的了解与记忆同样是我们现实生活的一部分。

那么，在开始讨论这门艺术的现状前，我想扼要重述几点：这门艺术是从古至今人们表达美感的一种途径；它们代表着自由国度的欢乐和被压迫人民的慰藉；宗教曾经启用并提升过它，但又同时滥用与贬低了它；它与历史紧密相连，是我们了解历史的向导；它是我们劳作的甜味剂，不论是天天与它打交道的工匠还是我们这些普通民众，这门艺术使我们快乐并有成就感。

到目前为止，你们可能认为我所讲的不过是对这些装饰艺术的赞美，但我必须指出，我所有的赞美之词也是有其用意的。

那就是我需要向你们郑重地提一个问题：你们想拥有这些美好的艺术吗？你们会将它们丢弃吗？

你们是不是对我这个问题感到惊异？因为你们中的大部分人，连同我本人目前都在进行这些正在流行或理应流行的艺术创作。

为了解释这一问题，我还需重复刚才所说的一些要点。在那时，全世界都认可手工艺品的神秘与奇异，人们制作出的物品融合了幻想的元素，并且在那时我们称手工艺人为艺术家就像我们现在称呼他们那样。但是，人们的思想渐渐变得复杂，难以表达，艺术也同样变得厚重且难以处理，同时，艺术创作的分工也日渐明确，分化为三个等级：大艺术家、普通艺术家和无名的艺术工作者。并且这种变化会一直持续到艺术从人们身心的休憩演变为一种很严肃的工作。其实，这也是艺术的成长，并且像其他的成长那样会在一段时间内发挥益处且硕果累累，当然也会由繁盛走向衰败，由衰败演变为新的事物。

艺术是如何走向衰败的呢？首先，艺术渐渐分化为伟大的居于首位的艺术和普通的居于次位的艺术，伟大的艺术家通常会瞧不起那些普通的装饰艺术，并且对装饰艺术的哲学一无所知。另外，这些艺术家大部分来自普通的手工艺人，但他们留给普通工匠的仅仅是对艺术提升的绝望，同时，他们也失去了那些勤劳且聪慧的工匠们的帮助与同情。因此，在这种状态下，双方都饱受折磨，艺术家与工匠的日子都不好过。其实，艺术的这种发展状态就如同一个将军带领一群士兵奔赴战场一样，他只顾着满怀激情与希望地冲向前线，丝毫不顾自己身后的一队战士，把他们远远地抛在了后面。当然，这群士兵全然不知等待他们的是死亡。这名将军也许死不足惜，但是，那一群战士的不快、愤怒以及战争的残忍将会被永远保存下来。

我必须用简单的语言来解释目前装饰艺术，甚至是艺术总体的状态。并不是我们目前的成就不如前人，而是目前艺术的发展处于一种混乱状态，急需一场变革来扭转这种状态。

那么，我还要再次重复刚才的问题：你们想拥有艺术的所有美好成果吗？你们会抛弃它吗？艺术的重大变革会不会到来呢？

由于我们都坚信世界上的生物是绵绵不绝的，因此，我们都希望变革带给我们的只有益处，没有损失，并且这种益处会不断延续。

但是，我提出的问题又将会得到怎样的回答呢？人的一生那么短暂，只能预知一小段未来，即使是我本人也会错失许多美好神奇的事物。因此，我必须声明我所讲的更多的是一种希望而非对现实的一种判定。我对下面这种言论没有异议：当这些富有想象力的艺术消失后，新的艺术形式将会产生，并填补人们生活中的空白。但是，我对这种前景并不感到欣慰，同时，我也并不相信人们能够忍受这种空白。我们目前的艺术发展状态确实令人堪忧：人们并没有把精力放在艺术的发展上，放任艺术堕落直至那些从未受过艺术熏陶的人也开始鄙视艺术。我敢断言，人们的这种没有耐心的做法最终会使艺术走向消亡。

那么，以后又会是什么样呢？

即使现在，在肮脏的伦敦也很难想象它将是什么样子。建筑、雕塑、绘画以及附属于它们的许多装饰艺术，连同音乐和诗歌一起将消失并被人们所遗忘，将丝毫不再令人们振奋或愉快：因此我再次强调，我们绝不能自欺欺人；一种艺术的消逝意味着所有艺术的消逝；它们命运的唯一区别就是最幸运的将最后被吞噬——不知是最幸运，还是最不幸：在所有与美相关的艺术中，人类的发明才能和独创力将完全停止；然而大自然将始终继续她那永恒的美好循环——春、夏、秋、冬；阳光、雨水、白雪；暴风雨、好天气；黎明、正午、傍晚；白天、夜晚——永远在向人类证明他们已刻意选择了丑而非美，并且选择生活在自己称霸的肮脏或空虚之中。

先生们，你们看，我们不能完全猜想它；或者不能像生活在古代伦敦的我们祖先那样猜想，他们居住在美丽、精心粉刷的房屋里，著名的教堂以及其宏伟的尖塔在他们周围高高耸立，也不能像他们，整天漫步于美丽的花园，奔跑在广阔的河流旁，他们原本可以想象到，整个一个郡或更大的范围，充斥着大小不等丑陋的茅舍，有一天将被称作伦敦。

先生们，可以说这种艺术的完全空白令我无比恐惧，甚至现在还很难想象；然而，恐怕我必须说，如果这种空白没有发生，那么可能是因为我们目前无法预见的某些形势的变化：但是我认为如果它一旦发生，也就仅仅持续一段时间，它只不过就是烧毁聚集起来的野草，以便使土壤肥沃产量增加。我认为不久之后人类将觉醒，并四下环顾找出难以忍受的乏味，像早先那样重新开始创造、模仿和想象。

这种信仰抚慰着我，并且我可以从容地说，如果空白时期必须发生，那么在其黑暗的笼罩下新的种子一定会萌芽，一定会。所以如同以前一样：首先是萌芽，和几乎无意识的希望；接下来是开花结果，技艺纯熟，并信心满满，甚至逐渐转为傲慢无礼，因为衰落紧随成熟其后；然后，再次重生。

与此同时，所有重视艺术的人的基本责任就是竭尽所能拯救世界免于愚昧无知的恶果，这充其量是一种损失。实际上，防止所有变化中最令人沮丧的，如一种新的暴行代替一种已经灭绝的暴行；不仅如此，即使那些真正关心艺术的人是如此弱小甚至微乎其微，以致他们也做不了其他事，但至少他们可以保持一些传统，保存一些过去的记忆，以便当新生命诞生时，可以不必过于浪费精力为其新精神塑造全新形式。

那么，他们将向哪里寻求帮助？谁又真正了解世界上一门伟大艺术所带来的收获，以及缺失所必将引起和平美好生活的丧失？我认为他们必须开始承认古代艺术，有人可能称这种艺术为无意识的智慧，它不知不觉兴起，没有确切的日期，至少是很久以前当那些长毛象骨头上奇怪巧妙的刻画等诸如此类的东西出现的时候，除了处于漂移状态的更早期，这种无意识智慧的艺术差一点消失；它仅存的一点点在半文明的国家之中苟延残喘，并且越来越粗俗衰弱，聪明才智逐年递减；不仅如此，它还主要受一些商业性事件的摆布，例如几船欧洲染料或者几十个欧洲商人的订货单的到来。这一点他们必须认识到，并且希望及时看到一种新的有意识智慧的艺术将取代它的位置，这是一种新生的更加明智、更加简单、更加自由的生活方式，是现在及以往世界上无与伦比的生活方式。

我上面所说的及时看到一种新的有意识智慧的艺术取代无意识智慧的艺术；我的意思并不是想说我们将亲自见证这一过程：这可能是很遥远的事情，事实上确实有些遥远，致使许多人认为这几乎不值得考虑：但是我们之中有些人无法面壁静坐，不采取任何行动，因为我们的希望看起来有些渺茫；实际上，我认为尽管承载着无数罪恶的古老艺术的最终衰落迹象在我们看来非常明显，但是另一方面，并不缺少迹象表明艺术在面临可能到来的黑夜之后，会迎来新的曙光，这是我之前谈到的；这一迹象主要包括，至少有一些人在内心深处对目前的艺术不满意，并且渴望更好的艺术，或者起码对此过程心存希冀，这是最好的迹象：因为我认为在任何时候如果五六个人诚挚地决心要创制出与自然不和谐的东西，那么这总有一天会实现；因为几个人同时想到一个想法，这并不是偶然；相反是一些活跃于内心的某些因素促使并强迫他们去表达或采取行动，否则这些因素将被掩盖无法表达出来。

那么那些渴望艺术改革的人会采用什么办法呢？他们又将如何设法激起对拥有美的渴望并更好地发展能够创造美的人才？

人们经常对我说：如果您想使您的艺术成功并繁荣，就必须使其流行入时。我承认此说法让我困扰；这个说法的意思是我应该花一天的时间完成我的作品，还需一天时间去尝试说服那些富人或所谓的有影响力的人来非常关心事实上他们丝毫不关心的东西，结果可能就会和此谚语一样：等待育肥的羔羊逃跑了，那么我们都过关了。当然，如果劝说者满足于艺术品仅在很短的时间内流行，可以说还能赚点小钱，那么他们是正确的；如果你并没因这扇大门关闭得如此之快而感到痛苦：那些劝告者也没有错：他们认为那些人事务繁多，能轻松地放弃失败之事，因为这是他们一时的突发奇想，没有任何责任：这不是他们的错误，他们也没有办法，但是他们却没有机会用足够的时间仔细研究艺术，去了解其实用性，而且这种艺术必然出自那些以此方式为了其个人利益推进时尚的人之手。

先生们，摆脱上面提及的那些人，或者他们的追随者也无济于事：唯一对装饰艺术真正有帮助的一定是那些从事装饰艺术的人；他们一定不能跟风，相反必须引领潮流。

只要你们的双手能够在大众真正对这样的作品感兴趣以前创作出可以称为艺术品的作品，那么你们一定都是艺术家，并且还是优秀的艺术家；当你们达到此状态时，我保证你们将引领时尚；时尚将任由你们掌控。

那是我们能够获得充满智慧的流行艺术的唯一途径：现在一些艺术家提出，他们在创作的同时还要对抗所谓的商业运作，实际上应称之为对金钱的贪婪，这是他们前进道路上的困难，在此情形下他们能做些什么呢？虽然大多数制造商也就是资本家和销售员一辈子都未曾做过一点点手工，但是在这样一群被荒谬地称为制造商，即手工艺人之中，艺术家们无能为力地工作着。我的意思是，每年生产出大量自称是装饰艺术的工艺品，但是它们的装饰性作用除了销售员无人留意，很难满足公众对新鲜事物的渴望，更不用说对美的事物的渴望了。在这种情况下，这少数几个人能够做些什么呢？

需要重申的是，如果可以的话，补救方法很简单；当艺术分裂时，落后于艺术家的手工艺人必须追赶上他，与其并肩创作：除了巨匠与学者之间的差异，除了人们思想上的天生爱好会使一个人成为模仿者，而另一个成为建筑或装饰艺术家的差异外，那些从事严格的装饰性工作的人之间应该没有任何差别；并且从事装饰性工作的艺术家们也应该加速发展他们的装饰艺术使其从制作者变成真正艺术家，与他们作品的必要性和实用性相称。

我知道，在这个过程中会遇到社会以及经济方面的巨大困难；但是我认为，这些困难并没有看上去那么难以解决：而且可以肯定是，如果这个过程能实现，那么就不可能有真正生动的装饰艺术存在。

如果你内心渴望加速发展艺术，这个过程不是没有可能，相反，它一定会发生；如果为了美和庄重，全世界都愿意牺牲一些所忙碌的事情，因为我认为许多事情是不值得如此费心的，那么艺术将再次开始发展；至于上述提及的那些困难，我知道，无论如何，其中一些困难将在人类相关条件的稳定变化之前消失。其余的，对自然法则，同时也是艺术法则的理性及坚定的关注将会逐渐解决。再次，如果我们拥有坚定的意志，探索的道路将不会太遥远。

然而，虽然有了坚定的意志，并且探索的道路就在我们面前，但是如果最初的旅途看起来非常贫瘠荒芜，我们一定不能灰心丧气，不仅如此，即使形势暂时看起来变得更加糟糕，我们也同样不能气馁：因为改革之初的真正邪恶往往看起来更加丑陋，这是再自然不过的事，然而当生命和智慧正在建造新事物的同时，死亡和愚蠢正在迎接旧事物。

由此看来，如同所有其他事件一样，在形势有所好转之前需要等待一段时间，还需要勇气和耐心，这样才不致轻视要解决的小事。此外，谨慎和警觉也必不可少，以免我们自设陷阱，自掘坟墓。而且，凡事都要一直保持谦逊的心态，这样才不致轻易被失败打倒，乐于向别人学习，不耻下问。

至于你们的老师，他们一定是自然和历史：首先，你们必须了解那些显而易见、不需要我现在详述的东西。今后，当我必须谈到更多细节事项时，我可能会涉及你们获悉自然的方法。第二，我不相信近来任何人，除了无人能及的天才以外，在没有充分钻研古代艺术的情况下可以有所作为，甚至如果他缺乏对古代艺术的了解，他将处处受阻。如果你们认为这与我上述的古代艺术的消失，以及我暗含的一类艺术作为必需品应该是当代的特征相矛盾，那么我只能说，在现今这个知识丰硕、功效浅薄的时代，如果我们不立即研究古代著作并学习理解它，我们会发现自己受到周围无益作品的严重影响，而且像抄写员一样复制优秀的作品，对其完全不理解，这绝不会带来充满智慧的艺术。因此，让我们明智地学习古代艺术，遵其教导，受其鼓舞；下定决心始终不模仿或复制；要么根本没有艺术，要么拥有我们自己创造的艺术。

然而，当我号召你们去学习自然以及艺术史时，我几乎思维停滞了，想起这是伦敦，它是什么样子：我怎么能让忙于工作的人每天穿梭于这些丑陋的街道去关注美呢？如果是政治，我们必须关注这些；如果是科学，你们可能全神贯注地研究事实，很可能除了美，你们对周围发生的一切都不会过多关注！难道你们没有看到，由于长期疏忽艺术，也疏忽了这件事的原因，可怕的困难正在困扰艺术吗？这是个非常沉重的问题，应付出怎样的努力，使用什么锦囊妙计，你们才能解决这个困难？因此目前我必须先把它放在一边，至少可以期待通过学习历史及其遗迹在此将对你们有几分帮助。如果你们真的可以使你们的思想充满伟大的艺术作品，以及艺术美好时光的记忆，我想你们在一定程度上将能够看穿上述的丑陋环境，并且变得对现在粗心大意以及残酷野蛮状况不满，而且我希望你们最终将对丑陋的事物非常不满，以致你们决定不再忍受这种使我们精细的文明蒙受巨大耻辱的目光短浅、鲁莽大意的卑劣暴行。

总之，无论如何，伦敦有益于此，因为在伦敦博物馆众多，我衷心希望这些博物馆能够每周开放七天，而非六天，或者如果只开放一天，在这一天一个平常忙碌的人，也就是那些使博物馆得以开放的纳税人通常可以安静地参观。当然我们任何可能对艺术有天生爱好的人一定会从经常参观博物馆的经历中得到更多，再生动充分地讲述也无法与此相比。然而，在人们可能从国家以这种形式所拥有的惊人艺术瑰宝中得到所有的精华以前，他们需要一些初步的引导，这是实际情况：也有人以零碎的方式看待事物：我不能否认博物馆会有一些令人悲伤的物品，例如，其珍贵的碎片会向我们讲述有关暴力、毁灭以及疏忽大意的故事。

然而，不仅如此，有时你们可能有机会研究更加精密，但形式更加亲密温和的古代艺术，如我们自己领土内的遗迹。仅仅偶尔如此，因为我们生活在由砖块和灰浆建造的世界中，并且除了威斯敏斯特教堂的灵魂，世界上几乎没有其他东西留给我们。威斯敏斯特教堂的外部被修复建筑师的愚蠢所毁坏，其华美的内部也被狂妄自大承办人的诳语，以及最后两个半世纪的虚荣和愚昧所损害。除了上述提及的被破坏的部分以及其附近那个无与伦比的会堂以外，其他的就所剩无几了。但是当我们远离那个烟雾弥漫的世界，在乡村里我们仍可能看到我们祖先的作品依然以其被创造时的原始样貌而存在，它们保持着良好的完整性。确实如此，在英国乡村，在人们关注此类事情的时代，人们所创作的作品与其打算安置其作品的土地是有共鸣的。这里土地面积不大；有太多的东西被密封在两个海峡[5]之内，似乎有足够的空间可以膨胀到巨大。没有势不可当的沉寂的荒野，没有人迹罕至的森林，也没有可怕的杳无人迹的陡峭山脉，一切都能够通过权衡、融合、改变以及滑动轻易地从一个变成另一个。涓涓细流、碧绿平原、膨胀的河水和快速变化的高地，一起都被美丽有序的树木所包围。小小的山丘、矮矮的山脉，与来回移动的羊群连成一片：一切都很渺小，然而却不愚蠢和单调，反而很庄重而且意义丰富。这里既不是监狱也不是宫殿，而是一个得体大方的家园。

所有这一切，我既不赞美也不谴责，只是客观描述其真实状态。有一些人过度赞扬这种朴素，仿佛这片土地就是地球的中心轴。我不会如此，任何以自我以及其所属为骄傲的务实的人也不会如此。有人藐视这片土地以及其单调乏味。我亦不会如此。尽管如果世界上没有别的东西，例如，没有惊奇，没有恐惧，也没有无法形容的美，这的确很困难。然而，无论是过去，现在和未来，我们所居住的这片土地在世界历史中的地位是多么的微不足道，在艺术史上又是多么渺小，而我们的祖先是如何坚持的，他们为装饰这片土地，付出了多少心血、经受了多少辛劳。当我们想到这里，这片平淡无奇、相貌平平的英格兰的土地，就是这片热土触动了我们的内心，并赋予了我们希望。

对于这片土地，这就是其艺术所在，然而人们仍然为这样的事情自寻烦恼。它缺乏壮丽或独创性，完全不能给人们留下深刻印象：它既算不上陈腐平庸，也很难称之为雄伟壮丽；然而，难道它从未是残酷的压迫，从未是奴隶的噩梦，或从未是狂傲的吹嘘吗？在其鼎盛时期，它也有创造性，一种更加宏伟的风格从未超越的特征，其鼎盛时期也是其核心部分，可以慷慨地用于自耕农的房舍，简陋的乡村教堂，也可以用于贵族的宅邸或威武的大教堂。尽管它时常非常粗糙，但绝不粗俗，其亲切、自然、不矫揉造作，是真正农民的艺术而非商人富豪以及官僚权贵的艺术，无论一个人是否像我们一样在其影响下呱呱坠地，还是专门来观赏其与国外所有壮丽宏伟的艺术不同的令人惊奇的朴素简易，我想如果谁不喜爱它，那么他肯定是铁石心肠。我认为，作为一种农民的艺术，它十分贴近人们的生活，并且虽然大宅第都正在建成“法式精致”的风格，但是它仍然存在于居住在我国许多地区的佃农及自耕农之中，仍然存在于许多隐约可见印刷街区的古雅模式中，以及刺绣工的绣针上，然而国外愚蠢的盛观已经扑灭其所有本质和自由，尤其在法国，艺术已经仅仅成为其成功欢跃的卑鄙行为的表达方式，其生命不久之后将永远坠入无尽的深渊。

这就是英国艺术，其历史在某种意义上可以在你们的门上发现，的确，它变得越来越稀少，并且逐年递减，这不仅因为贪婪的破坏，此类卑劣行径当然会使艺术比原来稀少，而且还受到另一个敌人的攻击，就是现今所谓的“修复”。

我不能长篇大论地讨论它，但是也不能完全忽略此问题，因为我已经强迫你们研究这些古代遗迹。因此，问题在于：这些古老建筑世世代代已经被改动并且增添新元素，通常很漂亮，一直都承载着历史；它们真正的价值，大部分在于此：它们几乎总是遭受忽视怠慢，而且也要时常忍受残暴（其历史常常并不乏味），但是普通平淡无奇的修补通常将使它们只能代表其本质及历史的碎片，绝非全貌。

但是，近年来，基督教会高涨的热情极大地促进了人们学习中古世纪的建筑知识，因此促使人们将钱财用于这些建筑物之上，不只是为了修复它们，使其保持安全、干净以及能够抵御风雨，此外“修复”它们是为了使其达到某种理想的完美状态。如果可能的话，清除所有发生在它们身上的事件的标志，至少自宗教改革运动以来的事件，甚至常常是更久远的事件，这种做法有时丝毫不顾及艺术，完全出于基督教会的热情，但是随着越来越频繁的修复，他们还是给了艺术足够的关注。然而，如果你们没有领会我的观点，即如同尝试修复会对建筑物有破坏性一样，这种修复一定不可能实现，那么你们将不会听从我今晚所讲的。我几乎不愿这样想，这些建筑多大一部分已经被“修复”得几乎对艺术及历史专业的学生毫无用处了。除非你们了解许多关于建筑的知识，否则你们几乎不能理解在这个问题上如此危险的“缺乏知识”已经造成了多么可怕的损害。但是，历史遗迹一旦失去，现代艺术的任何光彩壮丽都无法取代。恣意妄为地处理宝贵的（并且是国家级的）历史遗迹，就是在为国家毫无意义地奉献，是在损害国家利益，至少这是很容易理解的。

通过这次我所讲的关于古代艺术的研究，你们将领会我在此提及的培养具有更广泛的含义，它不仅仅指设计学院中某一类艺术的讲授，它一定是我们或多或少为自己而做的事：我的意思是我们的思想要系统地专心于这件事上，以多种方法研究它，并且谨慎勤劳地付诸实践，此外，还要下定决心除了众所周知的有助于工艺和设计的事情之外，不做其他任何事。

然而，当然，两者（工艺及设计）既作为我们谈及的研究的一种手段，也作为艺术实践的一种手段，应该教授所有手艺人非常仔细地绘制；实际上，除了那些身体有缺陷不能学习绘画的人，所有其他人都应该学习绘画。但是如此教授的绘画艺术并不是设计艺术，仅仅是达到此目的的一个方法，即对待艺术的一般能力。

因为我特别希望你们能够铭记，学校里根本不能教授设计。连续不断的实践将促使那些具有设计天赋的人持续关注自然与艺术。我确信，有一定设计天赋的人还是很多的，并且就像需要工具一样，他们需要从学校那里得到某些技术教导。近来，最好的学院，即你们周围的那些一直具有成功实践的学院都处在这样的低潮中，他们毋庸置疑地需要接受有关艺术史的教导。设计学院仅能给予这两样东西。但是从虚伪的设计科学演绎出的一组规则的捷径本身就不是一门科学，而是另外一组规则，它将不会有什么结果，我们还不如说是重新开始。

至于应该教给装饰工作者的那种绘画，仅有一种最佳教授方式，那就是让学者学习绘制人物画像。一方面是因为人的身体线条比任何其他事物更加精细微妙，另一方面是因为如果你出现错误，可以清楚地发现并改正过来。我确信，如果所有喜欢艺术的人都能得到如此的教导，那么这将非常有助于艺术复兴：我认为，对于所有那些有创作才能的人们来说，辨别对与错的习惯，绘制出完美线条的喜悦感，这些才是培养一词的真正含义；然而如上所说，在当今时代背景下，假装对昔日艺术视而不见，这完全是矫揉造作：相反，那是我们必须要研究的。如果其他社会及经济状况没有阻碍我们，换言之，如果世界并没有如此繁忙，可以允许我们拥有装饰艺术，那么下列两点应是我们获得装饰艺术的直接方式；即全面培养精神力量与全面培养眼力及动手能力。

也许在你们看来，这似乎是一个老生常谈的建议以及一种曲折迂回的途径；然而，如果你们想要通过任何途径得到新艺术，它就是确定的一种途径，也就是我今晚演讲的主题。如果你们不想如此，并且如果我刚才提及的那些创造萌芽很可能仍然蕴藏在人们内心深处，平淡无奇，以致被人们所忽视没有使其发展，那么如同处理其他事件一样，自然法则将在此显示其权威，而且设计天赋本身将逐渐从人们面前消失。先生们，我们能通过摒弃使我们成为真正人类的巨大智慧来达到所谓的完美吗？

那么现在，在我演讲结束之前，我想让你们注意以下事项，即由于我们忙于其他事情而疏忽了艺术，除了那些对我们有利的机会外所有其他的都是障碍，而且，当我们处理完这些事务时，我们开始努力都很困难。如果你们认为关于这个主题我的谈话似乎过于严重，实际上我认为这是不可能的，我请求你们想想我之前谈及的内容，即艺术是如何结合在一起的。现在仅有一种艺术，就是爱德华三世[6]时期的一位已逝建筑师所思考的，这个建筑师在牛津大学创建了新学院，我的意思是，当他以“举止铸人”为座右铭时，他对举止的定义就是道德的艺术，以及像人一样有价值地生存的艺术。我必须声明，这一艺术也与我的主题相关。

世界上有大量虚假的作品，既伤害买主，更伤害卖方，对制造者造成的伤害是最严重的，但愿他知道，装饰工艺对于铸就优秀的装饰艺术是多么重要的基础啊！如果我们的工匠决心在一切事物中创作出最优秀的工艺，而非现今我们唾手可得的平均标准非常低劣的工艺品，更可悲的是，就是如此之低的标准，我们还时常达不到。

在此问题上我不能只责怪一两种人，我谴责所有人。且不说我们自己的手工艺人群体，我们的不足之处你我都十分清楚，不需过多讨论。我知道，一般来说民众想要物价低廉，但他们却如此无知，全然不知他们也使得那些东西变得令人厌恶。他们既不了解也不在乎他们是否给予了一个人他所应得的。我还知道（所谓的）制造商已经着手开展最激烈的竞争即廉价的竞争，而非优秀的竞争，这正好满足了那些到处寻找购买廉价物品的人们的需求，他们高兴地用那些以他们满意的低廉价格买到的劣质商品装饰自己，称此种做法为欺骗已经是再好听不过了。近来，英国一直过度忙于会计室事务，而疏忽了车间工厂：其结果是，目前会计室完全没有订单。

在这个问题上我说过，所有人都有责任，而且我认为补救的责任在于手工业者，他们并不像民众一样对这些问题毫不知情，而且他们也没有理由像制造商或中间商那样贪婪孤立；教育民众的光荣使命是他们的责任，并且他们内心拥有秩序与组织的种子，这将使此责任更加容易履行。

当他们注意到这个问题并帮助我们所有人都坚守这个最重要的行为方式时，我们便可以愉快地以正当价格购买商品，同时出售无论是合理价格还是优秀工艺都让我们引以为傲的商品，从此过程中得到的两种快乐可以装点我们的生活。此外，我们还可以从每天勤勤恳恳的工作中得到快乐，再也不用匆忙生产那些令我们耻辱的商品。我认为，这三种快乐中最伟大的快乐就是最后一个，世界上还没有与此相类似的快乐。

你们不可以说这种行为举止不在我的主题范围内：实质上，它是其中一部分，而且是最重要的部分。因为我正教导你们学会成为艺术家，如果在我们之中艺术还没消失的话。什么是艺术家？他仅仅是一个意志坚定并且忠于艺术的工匠，无论发生什么事情，他的作品都将是杰出的。或者，换句话说：其工艺的装饰又是什么？只不过是人们劳动成功的喜悦之情的表达。但是在恶劣的工作之中，或碌碌无为的劳动之中又能有什么快乐呢；为什么我们要装饰它们？而且我们怎么能够忍受在劳动中一直都失败呢？

由于对不正当所得的贪婪，想要收获我们并没为之付出努力的财富，我们前进的道路被劣质假冒商品的混乱状态所阻碍，因此我们出于贪婪，累积钱财（因为贪婪像所有其他强烈情感一样，会随心所欲），我认为，这些钱财一点一滴慢慢聚集成巨大数额，令人遗憾的是它承载着所有虚伪的荣誉，然而它却掌控着我们的命脉，而且它已经形成一道热爱奢侈与炫耀的屏障来抵抗艺术，这是所有显著障碍中最难以超越的。最高尚、有教养的人没能摆脱其粗俗，下层人也没有逃脱其虚伪。我恳请你们记得两者都是此问题的拯救者，而且都能清晰地解释我的意思，无用的任何事物都不能称之为艺术品；也就是说，那些在精神良好的控制下也无助于身体的事物，或者不能娱乐、安慰或振奋处于健康状态的精神的事物。有多少无法言表的垃圾自称是艺术品，在某种程度上，如果人们理解此箴言并按照其行事，它能否将这些垃圾清出伦敦的所有房屋！在我看来，你们在一个富裕的家庭中到处都能找到根本没有用的物品（厨房除外）。一般来说，所有美其名曰的装饰品都是为了炫耀，并不是因为有人喜欢它。我再次强调，这种愚蠢的行为遍布所有社会阶层。我主人家客厅的丝绸窗帘对他来说并不是艺术，与他男仆的头皮屑没有什么区别。在乡下的农家，厨房通常是最令人愉快、舒适自在的地方，客厅就很沉闷无用。

简单的生活产生单纯的喜好，即对亲切高尚事物的热爱，这是产生我们所渴望的更好的新艺术所最需要的东西；无论是在宫殿还是在村舍，简单无处不在。

清洁与体面更加需要，无论是在村舍还是在宫殿，这两者无处不在。它们的缺失是严重的行为举止问题，我们应该纠正：此种缺失是由所有生活中的不平等，以及诸多世纪积累起来的疏忽和混乱造成的。至今仍然仅有极少数人开始思考其全面的解决方法，即使在其狭义上看，商业化给我们大的城镇所造成的毁损有谁会注意到呢？有谁会尝试控制他们的卑劣丑陋行径呢？问题只在于疏忽和鲁莽。无能为力的人们无法使寿命长至可以亲自完成一项事业，并且也没有足够的勇气和远见开始这一事业，然后将其传递给那些追随他们的后代。

砍倒房前屋后讨人喜欢的树木，摧毁古代庄严的建筑以获取相当于伦敦几平方米土地的钱财，玷污河流，遮蔽阳光，排放烟雾及更可怕的气体污染空气，对于这些，无人留意或予以改善，仿佛这与他们都无关。所有这一切都是现代商业——重视会计室而疏忽工厂——为我们所做的事。这样做能积累钱财吗？

科学——我们真挚地热爱着她，并且勤勉地追随着其脚步，她又将做些什么？恐怕她也完全受雇于会计室，过度忙于计算经济利益以及训练军士，暂时根本无暇顾及其他事情，目前不会有什么举动。然而，有些事情我本以为对科学来说很容易，例如，教导曼彻斯特如何解决其排放的烟雾，或教利兹市如何处理掉其多余的黑色染料，不要使其流入河中，以上这些如同生产最沉重的黑重丝绸或最大的无用枪支一样，值得她关注。无论如何，这些污染仍然在继续，除非人们关注如何在经营他们生意的同时又不使世界变得如此丑陋可怕，否则他们怎么会在意艺术呢？我知道，改善这些状况，哪怕只是一点点都将耗费大量的时间与金钱。但是我不知道，用这些时间与金钱使我们共同的生活变得更加愉快与体面，难道还有比这更好的用途吗？即使因此在艺术上没有什么特别值得高兴的事情发生，国家整体获得美好生活也将是无价之宝，这将源于人们认真地开始改善我们大城镇的风貌。我不知道这是否会实现，但是如果人们已经将注意力转移到这些事情上，我就应该开始乐观地考虑问题。而且我重申，除非人们真正如此，否则，我们甚至不能对我们努力改善艺术的想法抱有任何希望。

除非在人们自己和邻居的房屋面貌上做一些努力使所有人感受到视觉上的美和精神上的愉悦，直到野兽生存的旷野与人类居住的街区之间的对比没有那么不光彩，我认为艺术的实践一定要由一些高度有教养的人来掌握，他们能够经常游览美丽的地方，其所受的教育能够使他们从视野中排除日常大多数人的卑劣生活，专心沉思世界昔日的辉煌。先生们，我相信艺术如此地赞同快乐的自由、坦诚的直率以及真实的现实，同时它也如此地厌恶自私自利与豪华奢侈，以至它不是孤立单独地存在的。更进一步说我不希望艺术存在于这样的条件下。我申明，就像一位富人坐在受困于堡垒内饥饿的士兵之间享受美味可口的食物一样，欣赏他独有的典藏艺术对一位诚实的艺术家来说将是一种羞愧。

我不希望艺术、教育，抑或是自由仅为少数人所有。

宁可艺术不存在，也不愿其在少数优越的群体中可怜微弱地存活，他们鄙视那些下层阶级，因为下等人对他们所从事的高尚事业，以及无力反抗的暴行愚昧无知。不仅如此，我想世界的确应该暂时清除所有艺术，如我之前所说，我想如果她肯这样做，这是有可能实现的；与其让粮食在守财奴的粮仓里腐烂，我宁愿将其撒向大地，这样还可能有机会秘密地重生。

我有一些信念，我认为尽管清除所有艺术这件事是不会发生的，但是人们将变得更加聪明，更加博学。现在我们过分引以为傲的许多生命中错综复杂的事物，在某种程度上是因为它们是新生事物，它们的到来带来更好的收益，一旦它们完成使命就被抛弃，不再有任何用途。我希望我们将摆脱战争，无论是商业战争还是真枪实弹的战争，摆脱让人难以理解的知识，尤其是摆脱对金钱的贪婪，以及对金钱所带来的无法抗拒的荣誉的渴望。我相信，由于我们现在某种程度上已经获得自由，所以总有一天我们将实现平等，它唯一的含义就是友爱，摆脱贫穷及其所有烦扰卑劣的忧虑。

摆脱所有这一切之后，在重建的简单生活之中我们将有闲暇时间去思考我们的工作——每日的忠实伴侣，无人敢冒昧地称之为劳动的诅咒。因为此后我们肯定会愉快地工作，各自坚守自己的岗位，人们之间不再有嫉妒和怨恨，更无主仆之分。那时人们一定会愉快地工作，而且那种快乐必定会产生装饰性的、高尚的、流行的艺术。

那种艺术将把我们的街道装饰得如同森林一样美丽，如同山边景色一样振奋人心。从空旷的野外来到城市是一种娱乐和放松，不再是精神上的重担。每个人的房屋将是美丽端庄的，抚慰主人的心灵并有益于其工作。我们生活中所见到的以及人类的所有工作将与自然协调一致、合理出色。然而所有都将简单而振奋人心，既不幼稚也不会令人委靡不振。由于我们的公共建筑已不缺乏人类头脑及双手所创造出的美丽辉煌，所以在私有住宅中，将不会有任何浪费、夸耀或傲慢的迹象，而且每个人都将共同分享最美好的事物。

你们可能会说，这是一个从未实现并绝不会实现的梦想。的确，这从未实现过，所以，既然世界生机勃勃并且仍然向前发展，我希望有一天它将更加富强伟大。的确，这是一个梦想。但是以前的梦想现今已经产生了许多我们需要并有益的事物，只是我们几乎不关心它们，像对日光一样对它们习以为常，尽管人们曾经必须在没有它们的条件下生活，甚至从未希望拥有它们。

总之，虽然这是一个梦想，但是我恳求你们原谅我将其置于你们面前，因为在装饰艺术中，它是我所有工作的基础，也是我一直思考的问题。所以今晚我与你们一起在此的目的就是想请求你们帮助我实现这个梦想，这份希望。

[1] 约翰·拉斯金（John Ruskin, 1819-1900），英国维多利亚时代的作家和美术评论家。他对社会的评论使他被视为道德领路人或预言家。他先后于1870-1879年和1883-1884年两次担任牛津大学的美术教授。——译者注

[2] 《威尼斯的石头》（Stones of Venice）一书于1853年出版，在书中拉斯金论述了中世纪设计精华的思想内容，特别是他对于哥特风格和自然主义风格在设计中应用的兴趣和期望。——译者注

[3] 威斯敏斯特教堂（Westminster Abbey）坐落在伦敦泰晤士河北岸，始建于公元960年，教堂平面呈拉丁十字形，整座建筑既金碧辉煌，又静谧肃穆，被认为是英国哥特式建筑的杰作。——译者注

[4] 亨利三世（Henry III）是英格兰国王，1216年到1272年在位。——译者注

[5] 此处指英吉利海峡和爱尔兰海峡。——译者注

[6] 爱德华三世（Edward the Third）是英格兰国王，1327年到1377年在位。——译者注

我如何成为一名社会主义者

编辑让我说一说关于上述转变的某些历史，我觉得，如果我的读者把我看成某一类型组织中的一员的话，那么我这样做或许有必要，但是清楚、简单，并真实地做到又没有那么容易。然而，就让我试试吧。但是首先，我要解释一下作为一名社会主义者是什么意思，因为有人告诉我，这个词不再像十年前那样能够清楚确定无疑地表达。那么在我看来，社会主义是一种社会状态，在此状态下应没有贫富之分，没有主仆之别，人们既不会无所事事，也不会过度劳累，既不会有神经错乱的脑力劳动者，也不会有筋疲力尽的体力劳动者，总而言之，所有人将会生存在平等的条件下，毫无浪费地管理好自己的事务，并且充分意识到伤害一人意味着伤害所有——最终实现共同富裕的意义。

现在我所坚持并将誓死坚持的社会主义观点，就是我的开始。我没有过渡阶段，除非你可以把一个如此简短的阶段称为政治激进主义时期，在此期间，我足够清楚地看到了我的理想，但并没有期望实现它。这个阶段在我加入当时的民主联盟[1]的前几个月就已经结束，并且加入此联盟是因为我已经希望实现我的理想。如果你问我这个希望有多么了不起，或者我认为我们当时生活工作的社会主义者将为实现此希望作出哪些贡献，或者什么时候社会会发生改变，我必须要说，我也不知道。我只能说我没有权衡过我的希望，也没有想过它那时给我带来多少快乐。至于其他的，当我迈出那一步时我对经济学茫然无知，我甚至都没有读过亚当·斯密[2]的作品，没怎么听说过李嘉图[3]或卡尔·马克思[4]。说来也奇怪，我曾读过一些米尔的作品，即其去世后出版的那些文章，这些可能出版在《威斯敏斯特评论》或《双周刊》上，其中他攻击伪装在傅立叶[5]主义的社会主义，并且他提出一些条理清晰内容真诚的论点，然而在我看来，其结果是旨在说服我：社会主义是一个必要的转变，并且有可能在我们这个时代将其实现。那些文章完成了我向社会主义的最后转变。那么，加入了一个社会主义组织后（因为联盟很快变成了明确的社会主义组织），我决心试着学习社会主义经济方面的知识，甚至学习了马克思，尽管我必须坦白，我完全享受资本论中的历史部分，但是当读到这部伟大著作中的纯经济学部分时，我遭受了大脑混乱的极度痛苦。无论如何，我尽我所能去读书，并希望能从所读之中得到某些知识支撑我走下去；但是更重要的是，我必须从与巴克斯[6]，海因德曼[7]和朔伊[8]这类朋友的连续谈话中，以及我参与的在当时气氛活跃的宣传会议过程中得到深切思考。这些给我所从事的现实社会主义方面的学习画上完美句号。后来，从我的一些无政府主义[9]朋友那里学到，无政府主义是不可能的，这恰恰与他们的意向相反，就像我从米尔[10]那里学到，社会主义是必然的，这也违背了他的意向。

但是在讲述我如何开始热衷于现实社会主义事业的过程中我发觉，对于像我一样富裕，并且没有遭受像工人阶级那样步步被人压迫的困境的人来说，如果不是迫于想要实现理想，我感觉我可能决不会考虑此问题的现实方面。因为政治终究是政治，也就是说，如果累赘冗长并令人厌恶的最终手段不被视为必需品的话，那么它们决不会吸引我；当我已经意识到现今社会的不正当行为，以及对穷人的压迫，我决不能相信有可能纠正部分不正当行为。也就是说，我绝不可能愚蠢到相信有幸福而“可敬的”穷人。

因此，如果我的理想迫使我去寻找现实社会主义，那么又是什么迫使我构想出此理想的呢？现在，话题就转到了此篇文章中我提及的我是某一类型组织一员的问题。

在现代社会主义崛起以前，几乎所有聪明人都对这个世纪的文明非常满意，或者装作很满意的样子。此外，他们几乎都没有那么心满意足，并且无所事事，只想通过摆脱些许野蛮时代荒谬的残存物来完善所谓的文明。简言之，这是辉格党[11]的心境，对现代富裕的中产阶级来说很自然，实际上，就机械进步而言，他们没有任何需求，只要社会主义不打扰他们享受他们的丰富风格就好。

但是除了这些心满意足的人，还有其他并非真心满足的人，他们对文明的胜利有一种模糊的排斥情绪，但迫于辉格党原则的无限权力而保持沉默。最后，只有几个人公开反抗该辉格党原则。有几个人？大约是两个，卡莱尔[12]和拉斯金。在我所处时代的现实社会主义之前，拉斯金是我追求上述理想的大师，而且回顾过去，我不得不顺便说一下，倘若没有拉斯金，二十年前的世界将会是多么的枯燥无味啊！正是通过他让我学会了表达自己的不满，我必须说，这决不含糊。除了想要创造出美的事物以外，我生命中的主要热情已经并将永远憎恨现代文明。现在，当我希望它毁灭，这想法我脱口而出，对它我该说些什么呢——对社会主义取代它我又该说些什么呢？

关于其对机械动力的掌控和浪费，其国民如此贫穷，其国民的敌人如此富有，其惊人的体制产生了生活的不幸，我该说些什么！它蔑视除了它这个愚蠢的家伙以外所有人都可以享受的简单快乐。它盲目的粗俗已经毁坏了艺术，而这是劳动者唯一可靠的慰藉。所有这一切，我当时的感觉清晰犹存，但是我不知道为什么会是这样。过去的希望已远去，人类千百年来的奋斗除了这个肮脏、漫无目的和丑陋的混乱没有任何结果。在我看来，通过清除沉闷肮脏的文明出现在世界上以前的最后幸存时光，不久的将来很可能会加剧所有现今的罪恶。实际上，这是一个不好的展望。我可以作为个人提到自己，而不是作为一种类型，尤其是对于一个拥有我这样性情的人，不在乎玄学、宗教以及科学分析，但是却深爱着地球和地球上的生命，并且热爱人类过去的历史。想想吧！难道它的一切都要结束在灰渣上的会计室，可以看到远处波茨纳普（Podsnap）的休息室和一个辉格党委员会正在以如此便利的比例分给富人香槟酒分给穷人人造黄油，这样将使所有的人都心满意足，尽管人们眼中的快乐已经从世界上消失。赫胥黎[13]将要取代荷马[14]吗？然而，相信我，在我心中，当我真正迫使自己展望未来时，那就是我所看到的，并且据我所知，似乎几乎没有人认为值得与这样一个完满的文明作斗争。如果不是我莫名其妙地恍然大悟——在这一切文明的污秽之中，伟大变化的种子，我们其他人称之为社会革命，正在开始萌芽，那么当时我那样做就是为了轻松地结束悲观的生活。这一发现对我而言改变了整个事态，并且为了成为一名社会主义者，我要做的全部就是使自己开始实际运动，像以前所说的，我已经尽我所能尝试去做。

综上所述，对历史的研究以及对艺术的热爱和实践迫使我憎恨文明，如果事情就这样停止，这种憎恨将把历史变成不合理的胡言乱语，并使艺术成为过去珍品的收集，而和现在的生活没多大关系。

但是，比许多其他具有艺术洞察力的人幸运的是，在我们可憎的现代社会中崛起的革命意识一方面阻止我成为一名反抗“进步”的纯粹斥责者，另一方面阻止我把时间和精力浪费在任何众多的方案上，通过这些方案中产阶级的准艺术的希望是，当艺术已不再有任何根基时还能使艺术发展，因此，我成为了一名现实共产主义者。

最后几句话，也许我们的一些朋友会说，我们该怎样处理这些历史和艺术呢？我们想借助社会民主赢得体面的生活，我们可以说是想要生存，而且是立刻。当然任何一个公开认为艺术和教化的问题必须优于刀叉问题的人不懂得艺术的真正含义。它的根基必须有一块适合平稳生活的土壤。然而必须要记住，文明已经使工匠处于如此低劣悲惨的困难处境，以致他几乎不知道如何建构对更好生活的渴望，这种生活胜过目前他所必须忍受的生活。把真正的理想摆到他面前是艺术的职责，这个理想是丰富公道的生活，这种生活认为对美的感知和创造，也就是享受真正的快乐，就像日常食品一样是人类的必需品，除了被纯粹的反对派剥夺，没有人、没有哪一类人能被剥夺这种快乐，应该尽力抵抗这种剥夺。

[1] 民主联盟（Democratic Federation）是英国社会民主联盟，是第一个英国社会主义政党，1881年召开第一次会议。——译者注

[2] 亚当·斯密（Adam Smith, 1723-1790），英国哲学家和经济学家，经济学的主要创立者，著有《国富论》。——译者注

[3] 李嘉图（Ricardo, 1772-1823），英国古典政治经济学的代表。——译者注

[4] 卡尔·马克思（Karl Marx, 1818-1883），马克思主义的创始人。——译者注

[5] 傅立叶（Fourier, 1772-1837），法国思想家，是空想社会主义者。——译者注

[6] 巴克斯（Arnold Bax, 1883-1953），英国作曲家。——译者注

[7] 海因德曼（Hyndman, 1842-1921），英国民主联盟的组织者。——译者注

[8] 朔伊（Schen）是作者的朋友。——译者注

[9] 无政府主义(Anarchism) ，一系列政治哲学思想。它的基本立场是反对包括政府在内的一切统治和权威，提倡个体之间的自助关系，关注个体的自由和平等。——译者注

[10] 米尔（John Stuart Mill 1806-1873），英国思想家、哲学家，是实证主义和功利主义代表人物。——译者注

[11] 辉格党（Whig）是英国历史上的一个政党，它于1714年之后长期支配英国政治，它主张有限君主制，强调议会重要性。19世纪中叶，在当时英国工业发展、经济繁荣的条件下，辉格党的政策反映了资产阶级的利益。——译者注

[12] 卡莱尔（Carlyler, 1795-1881），苏格兰评论、讽刺作家、历史学家。——译者注

[13] 赫胥黎(Huxley, 1825-1895)，英国著名生物学家、演说家和作家。——译者注

[14] 荷马(Homer)，古希腊诗人，著有《伊利亚特》、《奥德赛》和《荷马史诗》。——译者注

Useful Work v. Useless Toil

The above title may strike some of my readers as strange. It is assumed by most people nowadays that all work is useful, and by most well-to-do people that all work is desirable. Most people, well-to-do or not, believe that, even when a man is doing work which appears to be useless, he is earning his livelihood by it - he is ‘employed’, as the phrase goes; and most of those who are well-to-do cheer on the happy worker with congratulations and praises, if he is only ‘industrious’ enough and deprives himself of all pleasure and holidays in the sacred cause of labour. In short, it has become an article of the creed of modern morality that all labour is good in itself - a convenient belief to those who live on the labour of others. But as to those on whom they live, I recommend them not to take it on trust, but to look into the matter a little deeper.

Let us grant, first, that the race of man must either labour or perish. Nature does not give us our livelihood gratis; we must win it by toil of some sort or degree. Let us see, then, if she does not give us some compensation for this compulsion to labour, since certainly in other matters she takes care to make the acts necessary to the continuance of life in the individual and the race not only endurable, but even pleasurable.

You may be sure that she does so, that it is of the nature of man, when he is not diseased, to take pleasure in his work under certain conditions. And, yet, we must say in the teeth of the hypocritical praise of all labour, whatsoever it may be, of which I have made mention, that there is some labour which is so far from being a blessing that it is a curse; that it would be better for the community and for the worker if the latter were to fold his hands and refuse to work, and either die or let us pack him off to the workhouse or prison - which you will.

Here, you see, are two kinds of work - one good, the other bad; one not far removed from a blessing, a lightening of life; the other a mere curse, a burden to life.

What is the difference between them, then? This: one has hope in it, the other has not. It is manly to do the one kind of work, and manly also to refuse to do the other.

What is the nature of the hope which, when it is present in work, makes it worth doing?

It is threefold, I think- hope of rest, hope of product, hope of pleasure in the work itself; and hope of these also in some abundance and of good quality; rest enough and good enough to be worth having; product worth having by one who is neither a fool nor an ascetic; pleasure enough for all for us to be conscious of it while we are at work; not a mere habit, the loss of which we shall feel as a fidgety man feels the loss of the bit of string he fidgets with.

I have put the hope of rest first because it is the simplest and most natural part of our hope. Whatever pleasure there is in some work, there is certainly some pain in all work, the beast-like pain of stirring up our slumbering energies to action, the beast-like dread of change when things are pretty well with us; and the compensation for this animal pain is animal rest. We must feel while we are working that the time will come when we shall not have to work. Also the rest, when it comes, must be long enough to allow us to enjoy it; it must be longer than is merely necessary for us to recover the strength we have expended in working, and it must be animal rest also in this, that it must not be disturbed by anxiety, else we shall not be able to enjoy it. If we have this amount and kind of rest we shall, so far, be no worse off than the beasts.

As to the hope of product, I have said that Nature compels us to work for that. It remains for us to look to it that we do really produce something, and not nothing, or at least nothing that we want or are allowed to use. If we look to this and use our wills we shall, so far, be better than machines.

The hope of pleasure in the work itself: how strange that hope must seem to some of my readers - to most of them! Yet I think that to all living things there is a pleasure in the exercise of their energies, and that even beasts rejoice in being lithe and swift and strong. But a man at work, making something which he feels will exist because he is working at it and wills it, is exercising the energies of his mind and soul as well as of his body. Memory and imagination help him as he works. Not only his own thoughts, but the thoughts of the men of past ages guide his hands; and, as a part of the human race, he creates. If we work thus we shall be men, and our days will be happy and eventful.

Thus worthy work carries with it the hope of pleasure in rest, the hope of the pleasure in our using what it makes, and the hope of pleasure in our daily creative skill.

All other work but this is worthless; it is slaves' work - mere toiling to live, that we may live to toil.

Therefore, since we have, as it were, a pair of scales in which to weigh the work now done in the world, let us use them. Let us estimate the worthiness of the work we do, after so many thousand years of toil, so many promises of hope deferred, such boundless exultation over the progress of civilization and the gain of liberty.

Now, the first thing as to the work done in civilization and the easiest to notice is that it is portioned out very unequally amongst the different classes of society. First, there are people - not a few - who do no work, and make no pretence of doing any. Next, there are people, and very many of them, who work fairly hard, though with abundant easements and holidays, claimed and allowed; and lastly, there are people who work so hard that they may be said to do nothing else than work, and are accordingly called ‘the working classes’, as distinguished from the middle classes and the rich, or aristocracy, whom I have mentioned above.

It is clear that this inequality presses heavily upon the ‘working’ class, and must visibly tend to destroy their hope of rest at least, and so, in that particular, make them worse off than mere beasts of the field; but that is not the sum and end of our folly of turning useful work into useless toil, but only the beginning of it.

For first, as to the class of rich people doing no work, we all know that they consume a great deal while they produce nothing. Therefore, clearly, they have to be kept at the expense of those who do work, just as paupers have, and are a mere burden on the community. In these days there are many who have learned to see this, though they can see no further into the evils of our present system, and have formed no idea of any scheme for getting rid of this burden; though perhaps they have a vague hope that changes in the system of voting for members of the House of Commons may, as if by magic, tend in that direction. With such hopes or superstitions we need not trouble ourselves. Moreover, this class, the aristocracy, once thought most necessary to the State, is scant of numbers, and has now no power of its own, but depends on the support of the class next below it - the middle class. In fact, it is really composed either of the most successful men of that class, or of their immediate descendants.

As to the middle class, including the trading, manufacturing, and professional people of our society, they do, as a rule, seem to work quite hard enough, and so at first sight might be thought to help the community, and not burden it. But by far the greater part of them, though they work, do not produce, and even when they do produce, as in the case of those engaged (wastefully indeed) in the distribution of goods, or doctors, or (genuine) artists and literary men, they consume out of all proportion to their due share. The commercial and manufacturing part of them, the most powerful part, spend their lives and energies in fighting amongst themselves for their respective shares of the wealth which they force the genuine workers to provide for them; the others are almost wholly the hangers-on of these; they do not work for the public, but a privileged class: they are the parasites of property, sometimes, as in the case of lawyers, undisguisedly so; sometimes, as the doctors and others above mentioned, professing to be useful, but too often of no use save as supporters of the system of folly, fraud, and tyranny of which they form a part. And all these we must remember have, as a rule, one aim in view; not the production of utilities, but the gaining of a position either for themselves or their children in which they will not have to work at all. It is their ambition and the end of their whole lives to gain, if not for themselves, yet at least for their children, the proud position of being obvious burdens on the community. For their work itself, in spite of the sham dignity with which they surround it, they care nothing: save a few enthusiasts, men of science, art, or letters, who, if they are not the salt of the earth, are at least (and oh, the pity of it!) the salt of the miserable system of which they are the slaves, which hinders and thwarts them at every turn, and even sometimes corrupts them.

Here then is another class, this time very numerous and all-powerful, which produces very little and consumes enormously, and is therefore in the main supported, as paupers are, by the real producers. The class that remains to be considered produces all that is produced, and supports both itself and the other classes, though it is placed in a position of inferiority to them; real inferiority, mind you, involving a degradation both of mind and body. But it is a necessary consequence of this tyranny and folly that again many of these workers are not producers. A vast number of them once more are merely parasites of property, some of them openly so, as the soldiers by land and sea who are kept on foot for the perpetuating of national rivalries and enmities, and for the purposes of the national struggle for the share of the product of unpaid labour. But besides this obvious burden on the producers and the scarcely less obvious one of domestic servants, there is first the army of clerks, shop-assistants, and so forth, who are engaged in the service of the private war for wealth, which, as above said, is the real occupation of the well-to-do middle class. This is a larger body of workers than might be supposed, for it includes amongst others all those engaged in what I should call competitive salesmanship, or, to use a less dignified word, the puffery of wares, which has now got to such a pitch that there are many things which cost far more to sell than they do to make.

Next there is the mass of people employed in making all those articles of folly and luxury, the demand for which is the outcome of the existence of the rich nonproducing classes; things which people leading a manly and uncorrupted life would not ask for or dream of. These things, whoever may gainsay me, I will for ever refuse to call wealth: they are not wealth, but waste. Wealth is what Nature gives us and what a reasonable man can make out of the gifts of Nature for his reasonable use. The sunlight, the fresh air, the unspoiled face of the earth, food, raiment and housing necessary and decent; the storing up of knowledge of all kinds, and the power of disseminating it; means of free communication between man and man; works of art, the beauty which man creates when he is most a man, most aspiring and thoughtful - all things which serve the pleasure of people, free, manly, and uncorrupted. This is wealth. Nor can I think of anything worth having which does not come under one or other of these heads. But think, I beseech you, of the product of England, the workshop of the world, and will you not be bewildered, as I am, at the thought of the mass of things which no sane man could desire, but which our useless toil makes - and sells?

Now, further, there is even a sadder industry yet, which is forced on many, very many, of our workers - the making of wares which are necessary to them and their brethren, because they are an inferior class. For if many men live without producing, nay, must live lives so empty and foolish that they force a great part of the workers to produce wares which no one needs, not even the rich, it follows that most men must be poor; and, living as they do on wages from those whom they support, cannot get for their use the goods which men naturally desire, but must put up with miserable makeshifts for them, with coarse food that does not nourish, with rotten raiment which does not shelter, with wretched houses which may well make a town-dweller in civilization look back with regret to the tent of the nomad tribe, or the cave of the prehistoric savage. Nay, the workers must even lend a hand to the great industrial invention of the age - adulteration, and by its help produce for their own use shams and mockeries of the luxury of the rich; for the wage-earners must always live as the wage-payers bid them, and their very habits of life are forced on them by their masters.

But it is waste of time to try to express in words due contempt of the productions of the much-praised cheapness of our epoch. It must be enough to say that this cheapness is necessary to the system of exploiting on which modern manufacture rests. In other words, our society includes a great mass of slaves, who must be fed, clothed, housed and amused as slaves, and that their daily necessity compels them to make the slave-wares whose use is the perpetuation of their slavery.

To sum up, then, concerning the manner of work in civilized States, these States are composed of three classes - a class which does not even pretend to work, a class which pretends to work but which produces nothing, and a class which works, but is compelled by the other two classes to do work which is often unproductive.

Civilization therefore wastes its own resources, and will do so as long as the present system lasts. These are cold words with which to describe the tyranny under which we suffer; try then to consider what they mean.

There is a certain amount of natural material and of natural forces in the world, and a certain amount of labour-power inherent in the persons of the men that inhabit it. Men urged by their necessities and desires have laboured for many thousands of years at the task of subjugating the forces of Nature and of making the natural material useful to them. To our eyes, since we cannot see into the future, that struggle with Nature seems nearly over, and the victory of the human race over her nearly complete. And, looking backwards to the time when history first began, we note that the progress of that victory has been far swifter and more startling within the last two hundred years than ever before. Surely, therefore, we moderns ought to be in all ways vastly better off than any who have gone before us. Surely we ought, one and all of us, to be wealthy, to be well furnished with the good things which our victory over Nature has won for us.

But what is the real fact? Who will dare to deny that the great mass of civilized men are poor? So poor are they that it is mere childishness troubling ourselves to discuss whether perhaps they are in some ways a little better off than their forefathers. They are poor; nor can their poverty be measured by the poverty of a resourceless savage, for he knows of nothing else than his poverty; that he should be cold, hungry, houseless, dirty, ignorant, all that is to him as natural as that he should have a skin. But for us, for the most of us, civilization has bred desires which she forbids us to satisfy, and so is not merely a niggard but a torturer also.

Thus then have the fruits of our victory over Nature been stolen from us, thus has compulsion by Nature to labour in hope of rest, gain, and pleasure been turned into compulsion by man to labour in hope - of living to labour!

What shall we do then, can we mend it?

Well, remember once more that it is not our remote ancestors who achieved the victory over Nature, but our fathers, nay, our very selves. For us to sit hopeless and helpless then would be a strange folly indeed: be sure that we can amend it. What, then, is the first thing to be done?

We have seen that modern society is divided into two classes, one of which is privileged to be kept by the labour of the other - that is, it forces the other to work for it and takes from this inferior class everything that it can take from it, and uses the wealth so taken to keep its own members in a superior position, to make them beings of a higher order than the others: longer lived, more beautiful, more honoured, more refined than those of the other class. I do not say that it troubles itself about its members being positively long lived, beautiful or refined, but merely insists that they shall be so relatively to the inferior class. As also it cannot use the labourpower of the inferior class fairly in producing real wealth, it wastes it wholesale in the production of rubbish.

It is this robbery and waste on the part of the minority which keeps the majority poor; if it could be shown that it is necessary for the preservation of society that this should be submitted to, little more could be said on the matter, save that the despair of the oppressed majority would probably at some time or other destroy Society. But it has been shown, on the contrary, even by such incomplete experiments, for instance, as Co-operation (so-called), that the existence of a privileged class is by no means necessary for the production of wealth, but rather for the ‘government’ of the producers of wealth, or, in other words, for the upholding of privilege.

The first step to be taken then is to abolish a class of men privileged to shirk their duties as men, thus forcing others to do the work which they refuse to do. All must work according to their ability, and so produce what they consume - that is, each man should work as well as he can for his own livelihood, and his livelihood should be assured to him; that is to say, all the advantages which society would provide for each and all of its members.

Thus, at last, would true Society be founded. It would rest on equality of condition. No man would be tormented for the benefit of another - nay, no one man would be tormented for the benefit of Society. Nor, indeed, can that order be called Society which is not upheld for the benefit of every one of its members.

But since men live now, badly as they live, when so many people do not produce at all, and when so much work is wasted, it is clear that, under conditions where all produced and no work was wasted, not only would every one work with the certain hope of gaining a due share of wealth by his work, but also he could not miss his due share of rest. Here, then, are two out of the three kinds of hope mentioned above as an essential part of worthy work assured to the worker. When class-robbery is abolished, every man will reap the fruits of his labour, every man will have due rest - leisure, that is. Some Socialists might say we need not go any further than this; it is enough that the worker should get the full produce of his work, and that his rest should be abundant. But though the compulsion of man's tyranny is thus abolished, I yet demand compensation for the compulsion of Nature's necessity. As long as the work is repulsive it will still be a burden which must be taken up daily, and even so would mar our life, even though the hours of labour were short. What we want to do is to add to our wealth without diminishing our pleasure. Nature will not be finally conquered till our work becomes a part of the pleasure of our lives.

That first step of freeing people from the compulsion to labour needlessly will at least put us on the way towards this happy end; for we shall then have time and opportunities for bringing it about. As things are now, between the waste of labour-power in mere idleness and its waste in unproductive work, it is clear that the world of civilization is supported by a small part of its people; when all were working usefully for its support, the share of work which each would have to do would be but small, if our standard of life were about on the footing of what well-to-do and refined people now think desirable. We shall have labour-power to spare, and shall, in short, be as wealthy as we please. It will be easy to live. If we were to wake up some morning now, under our present system, and find it ‘easy to live’, that system would force us to set to work at once and make it hard to live; we should call that ‘developing our resources’, or some such fine name. The multiplication of labour has become a necessity for us, and as long as that goes on no ingenuity in the invention of machines will be of any real use to us. Each new machine will cause a certain amount of misery among the workers whose special industry it may disturb; so many of them will be reduced from skilled to unskilled workmen, and then gradually matters will slip into their due grooves, and all will work apparently smoothly again; and if it were not that all this is preparing revolution, things would be, for the greater part of men, just as they were before the new wonderful invention.

But when revolution has made it ‘easy to live’, when all are working harmoniously together and there is no one to rob the worker of his time, that is to say, his life; in those coming days there will be no compulsion on us to go on producing things we do not want, no compulsion on us to labour for nothing; we shall be able calmly and thoughtfully to consider what we shall do with our wealth of labour-power. Now, for my part, I think the first use we ought to make of that wealth, of that freedom, should be to make all our labour, even the commonest and most necessary, pleasant to everybody; for thinking over the matter carefully I can see that the one course which will certainly make life happy in the face of all accidents and troubles is to take a pleasurable interest in all the details of life. And lest perchance you think that an assertion too universally accepted to be worth making, let me remind you how entirely modern civilization forbids it; with what sordid, and even terrible, details it surrounds the life of the poor, what a mechanical and empty life she forces on the rich; and how rare a holiday it is for any of us to feel ourselves a part of Nature, and unhurriedly, thoughtfully, and happily to note the course of our lives amidst all the little links of events which connect them with the lives of others, and build up the great whole of humanity.

But such a holiday our whole lives might be, if we were resolute to make all our labour reasonable and pleasant. But we must be resolute indeed; for no half measures will help us here. It has been said already that our present joyless labour, and our lives scared and anxious as the life of a hunted beast, are forced upon us by the present system of producing for the profit of the privileged classes. It is necessary to state what this means. Under the present system of wages and capital the ‘manufacturer’ (most absurdly so called, since a manufacturer means a person who makes with his hands) having a monopoly of the means whereby the power to labour inherent in every man's body can be used for production, is the master of those who are not so privileged; he, and he alone, is able to make use of this labour-power, which, on the other hand, is the only commodity by means of which his ‘capital’, that is to say, the accumulated product of past labour, can be made productive to him. He therefore buys the labour-power of those who are bare of capital and can only live by selling it to him; his purpose in this transaction is to increase his capital, to make it breed. It is clear that if he paid those with whom he makes his bargain the full value of their labour, that is to say, all that they produced, he would fail in his purpose. But since he is the monopolist of the means of productive labour, he can compel them to make a bargain better for him and worse for them than that; which bargain is that after they have earned their livelihood, estimated according to a standard high enough to ensure their peaceable submission to his mastership, the rest (and by far the larger part as a matter of fact) of what they produce shall belong to him, shall be his property to do as he likes with, to use or abuse at his pleasure; which property is, as we all know, jealously guarded by army and navy, police and prison; in short, by that huge mass of physical force which superstition, habit, fear of death by starvation - IGNORANCE, in one word, among the propertyless masses, enables the propertied classes to use for the subjection of- their slaves.

Now, at other times, other evils resulting from this system may be put forward. What I want to point out now is the impossibility of our attaining to attractive labour under this system, and to repeat that it is this robbery (there is no other word for it) which wastes the available labour-power of the civilized world, forcing many men to do nothing, and many, very many more to do nothing useful; and forcing those who carry on really useful labour to most burdensome overwork. For understand once for all that the ‘manufacturer’ aims primarily at producing, by means of the labour he has stolen from others, not goods but profits, that is, the ‘wealth’ that is produced over and above the livelihood of his workmen, and the wear and tear of his machinery. Whether that ‘wealth’ is real or sham matters nothing to him. If it sells and yields him a ‘profit’ it is all right. I have said that, owing to there being rich people who have more money than they can spend reasonably, and who therefore buy sham wealth, there is waste on that side; and also that, owing to there being poor people who cannot afford to buy things which are worth making, there is waste on that side. So that the ‘demand’ which the capitalist ‘supplies’ is a false demand. The market in which he sells is ‘rigged’ by the miserable inequalities produced by the robbery of the system of Capital and Wages.

It is this system, therefore, which we must be resolute in getting rid of, if we are to attain to happy and useful work for all. The first step towards making labour attractive is to get the means of making labour fruitful, the Capital, including the land, machinery, factories, etc., into the hands of the community, to be used for the good of all alike, so that we might all work at ‘supplying’ the real ‘demands’ of each and all - that is to say, work for livelihood, instead of working to supply the demand of the profit market - instead of working for profit - i.e., the power of compelling other men to work against their will.

When this first step has been taken and men begin to understand that Nature wills all men either to work or starve, and when they are no longer such fools as to allow some the alternative of stealing, when this happy day is come, we shall then be relieved from the tax of waste, and consequently shall find that we have, as aforesaid, a mass of labour-power available, which will enable us to live as we please within reasonable limits. We shall no longer be hurried and driven by the fear of starvation, which at present presses no less on the greater part of men in civilized communities than it does on mere savages. The first and most obvious necessities will be so easily provided for in a community in which there is no waste of labour, that we shall have time to look round and consider what we really do want, that can be obtained without over-taxing our energies; for the often-expressed fear of mere idleness falling upon us when the force supplied by the present hierarchy of compulsion is withdrawn, is a fear which is but generated by the burden of excessive and repulsive labour, which we most of us have to bear at present.

I say once more that, in my belief, the first thing which we shall think so necessary as to be worth sacrificing some idle time for, will be the attractiveness of labour. No very heavy sacrifice will be required for attaining this object, but some will be required. For we may hope that men who have just waded through a period of strife and revolution will be the last to put up long with a life of mere utilitarianism, though Socialists are sometimes accused by ignorant persons of aiming at such a life. On the other hand, the ornamental part of modern life is already rotten to the core, and must be utterly swept away before the new order of things is realized. There is nothing of it - there is nothing which could come of it that could satisfy the aspirations of men set free from the tyranny of commercialism.

We must begin to build up the ornamental part of life - its pleasures, bodily and mental, scientific and artistic, social and individual - on the basis of work undertaken willingly and cheerfully, with the consciousness of benefiting ourselves and our neighbours by it. Such absolutely necessary work as we should have to do would in the first place take up but a small part of each day, and so far would not be burdensome; but it would be a task of daily recurrence, and therefore would spoil our day's pleasure unless it were made at least endurable while it lasted. In other words, all labour, even the commonest, must be made attractive.

How can this be done? - is the question the answer to which will take up the rest of this paper. In giving some hints on this question, I know that, while all Socialists will agree with many of the suggestions made, some of them may seem to some strange and venturesome. These must be considered as being given without any intention of dogmatizing, and as merely expressing my own personal opinion.

From all that has been said already it follows that labour, to be attractive, must be directed towards some obviously useful end, unless in cases where it is undertaken voluntarily by each individual as a pastime. This element of obvious usefulness is all the more to be counted on in sweetening tasks otherwise irksome, since social morality, the responsibility of man towards the life of man, will, in the new order of things, take the place of theological morality, or the responsibility of man to some abstract idea. Next, the day's work will be short. This need not be insisted on. It is clear that with work unwasted it can be short. It is clear also that much work which is now a torment, would be easily endurable if it were much shortened.

Variety of work is the next point, and a most important one. To compel a man to do day after day the same task, without any hope of escape or change, means nothing short of turning his life into a prison-torment. Nothing but the tyranny of profit-grinding makes this necessary. A man might easily learn and practise at least three crafts, varying sedentary occupation with outdoor - occupation calling for the exercise of strong bodily energy for work in which the mind had more to do. There are few men, for instance, who would not wish to spend part of their lives in the most necessary and pleasantest of all work - cultivating the earth. One thing which will make this variety of employment possible will be the form that education will take in a socially ordered community. At present all education is directed towards the end of fitting people to take their places in the hierarchy of commerce - these as masters, those as workmen. The education of the masters is more ornamental than that of the workmen, but it is commercial still; and even at the ancient universities learning is but little regarded, unless it can in the long run be made to pay. Due education is a totally different thing from this, and concerns itself in finding out what different people are fit for, and helping them along the road which they are inclined to take. In a duly ordered society, therefore, young people would be taught such handicrafts as they had a turn for as a part of their education, the discipline of their minds and bodies; and adults would also have opportunities of learning in the same schools, for the development of individual capacities would be of all things chiefly aimed at by education, instead, as now, the subordination of all capacities to the great end of ‘money-making’ for oneself - or one's master. The amount of talent, and even genius, which the present system crushes, and which would be drawn out by such a system, would make our daily work easy and interesting.

Under this head of variety I will note one product of industry which has suffered so much from commercialism that it can scarcely be said to exist, and is, indeed, so foreign from our epoch that I fear there are some who will find it difficult to understand what I have to say on the subject, which I nevertheless must say, since it is really a most important one. I mean that side of art which is, or ought to be, done by the ordinary workman while he is about his ordinary work, and which has got to be called, very properly, Popular Art. This art, I repeat, no longer exists now, having been killed by commercialism. But from the beginning of man's contest with Nature till the rise of the present capitalistic system, it was alive, and generally flourished. While it lasted, everything that was made by man was adorned by man, just as everything made by Nature is adorned by her. The craftsman, as he fashioned the thing he had under his hand, ornamented it so naturally and so entirely without conscious effort, that it is often difficult to distinguish where the mere utilitarian part of his work ended and the ornamental began. Now the origin of this art was the necessity that the workman felt for variety in his work, and though the beauty produced by this desire was a great gift to the world, yet the obtaining variety and pleasure in the work by the workman was a matter of more importance still, for it stamped all labour with the impress of pleasure. All this has now quite disappeared from the work of civilization. If you wish to have ornament, you must pay specially for it, and the workman is compelled to produce ornament, as he is to produce other wares. He is compelled to pretend happiness in his work, so that the beauty produced by man's hand, which was once a solace to his labour, has now become an extra burden to him, and ornament is now but one of the follies of useless toil, and perhaps not the least irksome of its fetters.

Besides the short duration of labour, its conscious usefulness, and the variety which should go with it, there is another thing needed to make it attractive, and that is pleasant surroundings. The misery and squalor which we people of civilization bear with so much complacency as a necessary part of the manufacturing system, is just as necessary to the community at large as a proportionate amount of filth would be in the house of a private rich man. If such a man were to allow the cinders to be raked all over his drawing-room, and a privy to be established in each corner of his dining-room, if he habitually made a dust and refuse heap of his once beautiful garden, never washed his sheets or changed his tablecloth, and made his family sleep five in a bed, he would surely find himself in the claws of a commission de lunatico. But such acts of miserly folly are just what our present society is doing daily under the compulsion of a supposed necessity, which is nothing short of madness. I beg you to bring your commission of lunacy against civilization without more delay.

For all our crowded towns and bewildering factories are simply the outcome of the profit system. Capitalistic manufacture, capitalistic landowning, and capitalistic exchange force men into big cities in order to manipulate them in the interests of capital; the same tyranny contracts the due space of the factory so much that (for instance) the interior of a great weaving-shed is almost as ridiculous a spectacle as it is a horrible one. There is no other necessity for all this, save the necessity for grinding profits out of men's lives, and of producing cheap goods for the use (and subjection) of the slaves who grind. All labour is not yet driven into factories; often where it is there is no necessity for it, save again the profit-tyranny. People engaged in all such labour need by no means be compelled to pig together in close city quarters. There is no reason why they should not follow their occupations in quiet country homes, in industrial colleges, in small towns, or, in short, where they find it happiest for them to live.

As to that part of labour which must be associated on a large scale, this very factory system, under a reasonable order of things (though to my mind there might still be drawbacks to it), would at least offer opportunities for a full and eager social life surrounded by many pleasures. The factories might be centres of intellectual activity also, and work in them might well be varied very much: the tending of the necessary machinery might to each individual be but a short part of the day's work. The other work might vary from raising food from the surrounding country to the study and practice of art and science. It is a matter of course that people engaged in such work, and being the masters of their own lives, would not allow any hurry or want of foresight to force them into enduring dirt, disorder, or want of room. Science duly applied would enable them to get rid of refuse, to minimize, if not wholly to destroy, all the inconveniences which at present attend the use of elaborate machinery, such as smoke, stench, and noise; nor would they endure that the buildings in which they worked or lived should be ugly blots on the fair face of the earth. Beginning by making their factories, buildings, and sheds decent and convenient like their homes, they would infallibly go on to make them not merely negatively good, inoffensive merely, but even beautiful, so that the glorious art of architecture, now for some time slain by commercial greed, would be born again and flourish.

So, you see, I claim that work in a duly ordered community should be made attractive by the consciousness of usefulness, by its being carried on with intelligent interest, by variety, and by its being exercised amidst pleasurable surroundings. But I have also claimed, as we all do, that the day's work should not be wearisomely long. It may be said, ‘How can you make this last claim square with the others? If the work is to be so refined, will not the goods made be very expensive?’

I do admit, as I have said before, that some sacrifice will be necessary in order to make labour attractive. I mean that, if we could be contented in a free community to work in the same hurried, dirty, disorderly, heartless way as we do now, we might shorten our day's labour very much more than I suppose we shall do, taking all kinds of labour into account. But if we did, it would mean that our new-won freedom of condition would leave us listless and wretched, if not anxious, as we are now, which I hold is simply impossible. We should be contented to make the sacrifices necessary for raising our condition to the standard called out for as desirable by the whole community. Nor only so. We should, individually, be emulous to sacrifice quite freely still more of our time and our ease towards the raising of the standard of life. Persons, either by themselves or associated for such purposes, would freely, and for the love of the work and for its results - stimulated by the hope of the pleasure of creation - produce those ornaments of life for the service of all, which they are now bribed to produce (or pretend to produce) for the service of a few rich men. The experiment of a civilized community living wholly without art or literature has not yet been tried. The past degradation and corruption of civilization may force this denial of pleasure upon the society which will arise from its ashes. If that must be, we will accept the passing phase of utilitarianism as a foundation for the art which is to be. If the cripple and the starveling disappear from our streets, if the earth nourish us all alike, if the sun shine for all of us alike, if to one and all of us the glorious drama of the earth - day and night, summer and winter - can be presented as a thing to understand and love, we can afford to wait awhile till we are purified from the shame of the past corruption, and till art arises again amongst people freed from the terror of the slave and the shame of the robber.

Meantime, in any case, the refinement, thoughtfulness, and deliberation of labour must indeed be paid for, but not by compulsion to labour long hours. Our epoch has invented machines which would have appeared wild dreams to the men of past ages, and of those machines we have as yet made no use.

They are called ‘labour-saving’ machines - a commonly used phrase which implies what we expect of them; but we do not get what we expect. What they really do is to reduce the skilled labourer to the ranks of the unskilled, to increase the number of the ‘reserve army of labour’ - that is, to increase the precariousness of life among the workers and to intensify the labour of those who serve the machines (as slaves their masters). All this they do by the way, while they pile up the profits of the employers of labour, or force them to expend those profits in bitter commercial war with each other. In a true society these miracles of ingenuity would be for the first time used for minimizing the amount of time spent in unattractive labour, which by their means might be so reduced as to be but a very light burden on each individual. All the more as these machines would most certainly be very much improved when it was no longer a question as to whether their improvement would ‘pay’ the individual, but rather whether it would benefit the community.

So much for the ordinary use of machinery, which would probably, after a time, be somewhat restricted when men found out that there was no need for anxiety as to mere subsistence, and learned to take an interest and pleasure in handiwork which, done deliberately and thoughtfully, could be made more attractive than machine work.

Again, as people freed from the daily terror of starvation found out what they really wanted, being no longer compelled by anything but their own needs, they would refuse to produce the mere inanities which are now called luxuries, or the poison and trash now called cheap wares. No one would make plush breeches when there were no flunkies to wear them, nor would anybody waste his time over making oleo-margarine when no one was compelled to abstain from real butter. Adulteration laws are only needed in a society of thieves - and in such a society they are a dead letter.

Socialists are often asked how work of the rougher and more repulsive kind could be carried out in the new condition of things. To attempt to answer such questions fully or authoritatively would be attempting the impossibility of constructing a scheme of a new society out of the materials of the old, before we knew which of those materials would disappear and which endure through the evolution which is leading us to the great change. Yet it is not difficult to conceive of some arrangement whereby those who did the roughest work should work for the shortest spells. And again, what is said above of the variety of work applies specially here. Once more I say, that for a man to be the whole of his life hopelessly engaged in performing one repulsive and never-ending task, is an arrangement fit enough for the hell imagined by theologians, but scarcely fit for any other form of society. Lastly, if this rougher work were of any special kind, we may suppose that special volunteers would be called on to perform it, who would surely be forthcoming, unless men in a state of freedom should lose the sparks of manliness which they possessed as slaves.

And yet if there be any work which cannot be made other than repulsive, either by the shortness of its duration or the intermittency of its recurrence, or by the sense of special and peculiar usefulness (and therefore honour) in the mind of the man who performs it freely - if there be any work which cannot be but a torment to the worker, what then? Well, then, let us see if the heavens will fall on us if we leave it undone, for it were better that they should. The produce of such work cannot be worth the price of it.

Now we have seen that the semi-theological dogma chat all labour, under any circumstances, is a blessing to the labourer, is hypocritical and false; that, on the other hand, labour is good when due hope of rest and pleasure accompanies it. We have weighed the work of civilization in the balance and found it wanting, since hope is mostly lacking to it, and therefore we see that civilization has bred a dire curse for men. But we have seen also that the work of the world might be carried on in hope and with pleasure if it were not wasted by folly and tyranny, by the perpetual strife of opposing classes.

It is Peace, therefore, which we need in order that we may live and work in hope and with pleasure. Peace so much desired, if we may trust men's words, but which has been so continually and steadily rejected by them in deeds. But for us, let us set our hearts on it and win it at whatever cost.

What the cost may be, who can tell? Will it be possible to win peace peaceably? Alas, how can it be? We are so hemmed in by wrong and folly, that in one way or other we must always be fighting against them: our own lives may see no end to the struggle, perhaps no obvious hope of the end. It may be that the best we can hope to see is that struggle getting sharper and bitterer day by day, until it breaks out openly at last into the slaughter of men by actual warfare instead of by the slower and crueller methods of ‘peaceful’ commerce. If we live to see that, we shall live to see much; for it will mean the rich classes grown conscious of their own wrong and robbery, and consciously defending them by open violence; and then the end will be drawing near.

But in any case, and whatever the nature of our strife for peace may be, if we only aim at it steadily and with a singleness of heart, and ever keep it in view, a reflection from that peace of the future will illumine the turmoil and trouble of our lives, whether the trouble be seemingly petty, or obviously tragic; and we shall, in our hopes at least, live the lives of men: nor can the present times give us any reward greater than that.

Lecture given to the Hampstead Liberal Club,

London,1884

Gothic Architecture

By the word Architecture is, I suppose, commonly understood the art of ornamental building, and in this sense I shall often have to use it here. Yet I would not like you to think of its productions merely as well-constructed and well-proportioned buildings, each one of which is handed over by the architect to other artists to finish, after his designs have been carried out (as we say) by a number of mechanical workers, who are not artists. A true architectural work rather is a building duly provided with all necessary furniture, decorated with all due ornament, according to the use, quality, and dignity of the building, from mere mouldings or abstract lines, to the great epical works of sculpture and painting, which, except as decorations of the nobler form of such buildings, cannot be produced at all. So looked on, a work of architecture is a harmonious co-operative work of art, inclusive of all the serious arts, all those which are not engaged in the production of mere toys, or of ephemeral prettinesses.

Now, these works of art are man's expression of the value of life, and also the production of them makes his life of value: and since they can only be produced by the general goodwill and help of the public, their continuous production, or the existence of the true Art of Architecture, betokens a society which, whatever elements of change it may bear within it, may be called stable, since it is founded on the happy exercise of the energies of the most useful part of its population.

What the absence of this Art of Architecture may betoken in the long run it is not easy for us to say: because that lack belongs only to these later times of the world's history, which as yet we cannot fairly see, because they are too near to us; but clearly in the present it indicates a transference of the interest of civilized men from the development of the human and intellectual energies of the race to the development of its mechanical energies. If this tendency is to go along the logical road of development, it must be said that it will destroy the arts of design and all that is analogous to them in literature; but the logical outcome of obvious tendencies is often thwarted by the historical development; that is, by what I can call by no better name than the collective will of mankind; and unless my hopes deceive me, I should say that this process has already begun, that there is a revolt on foot against the utilitarianism which threatens to destroy the Arts; and that it is deeper rooted than a mere passing fashion. For myself I do not indeed believe that this revolt can effect much, so long as the present state of society lasts; but as I am sure that great changes which will bring about a new state of society are rapidly advancing upon us, I think it a matter of much importance that these two revolts should join hands, or at least should learn to understand one another. If the New society when it comes (itself the result of the ceaseless evolution of countless years of tradition) should find the world cut off from all tradition of art, all aspiration towards the beauty which man has proved that he can create, much time will be lost in running hither and thither after the new thread of art; many lives will be barren of a manly pleasure which the world can ill afford to lose even for a short time. I ask you, therefore, to accept what follows as a contribution toward the revolt against utilitarianism, toward the attempt at catching-up the slender thread of tradition before it be too late.

Now, that Harmonious Architectural unit, inclusive of the arts in general, is no mere dream. I have said that it is only in these later times that it has become extinct: until the rise of modern society, no Civilization, no Barbarism has been without it in some form; but it reached its fullest development in the Middle Ages, an epoch really more remote from our modern habits of life and thought than the older civilizations were, though an important part of its life was carried on in our own country by men of our own blood. Nevertheless, remote as those times are from ours, if we are ever to have architecture at all, we must take up the thread of tradition there and nowhere else, because that Gothic Architecture is the most completely organic form of the art which the world has seen; the break in the thread of tradition could only occur there: all the former developments tended thitherward, and to ignore this fact and attempt to catch up the thread before that point was reached, would be a mere piece of artificiality, betokening, not new birth, but a corruption into mere whim of the ancient traditions.

In order to illustrate this position of mine, I must ask you to allow me to run very briefly over the historical sequence of events which led to Gothic Architecture and its fall, and to pardon me for stating familiar and elementary facts which are necessary for my purpose. I must admit also that in doing this I must mostly take my illustrations from works that appear on the face of them to belong to the category of ornamental building, rather than that of those complete and inclusive works of which I have spoken. But this incompleteness is only on the surface; to those who study them they appear as belonging to the class of complete architectural works; they are lacking in completeness only through the consequences of the lapse of time and the folly of men, who did not know what they were, who, pretending to use them, marred their real use as works of art; or in a similar spirit abused them by making them serve their turn as instruments to express their passing passion and spite of the hour.

We may divide the history of the Art of Architecture into two periods, the Ancient and the Mediaeval: the Ancient again may be divided into two styles, the barbarian (in the Greek sense) and the classical. We have, then, three great styles to consider: the Barbarian, the Classical, and the Mediaeval. The two former, however, were partly synchronous, and at least overlapped some-what. When the curtain of the stage of definite history first draws up, we find the small exclusive circle of the highest civilization, which was dominated by Hellenic thought and science, fitted with a very distinctive and orderly architectural style. That style appears to us to be, within its limits, one of extreme refinement, and perhaps seemed so to those who originally practised it. Moreover, it is ornamented with figure-sculpture far advanced towards perfection even at an early period of its existence, and swiftly growing in technical excellence; yet for all that, it is, after all, a part of the general style of architecture of the Barbarian world, and only outgoes it in the excellence of its figure-sculpture and its refinement. The bones of it, its merely architectural part, are little changed from the Barbarian or primal building, which is a mere piling or jointing together of material, giving one no sense of growth in the building itself and no sense of the possibility of growth in the style.

The one Greek form of building with which we are really familiar, the columnar temple, though always built with blocks of stone, is clearly a deduction from the wooden god's-house or shrine, which was a necessary part of the equipment of the not very remote ancestors of the Periclean Greeks; nor had this god's-house changed so much as the city had changed from the Tribe, or the Worship of the City (the true religion of the Greeks) from the Worship of the Ancestors of the Tribe. In fact, rigid conservatism of form is an essential part of Greek Architecture as we know it. From this conservatism of form there resulted a jostling between the building and its higher ornament. In early days, indeed, when some healthy barbarism yet clung to the sculpture, the discrepancy is not felt; but as increasing civilization demands from the sculptors more naturalism and less restraint, it becomes more and more obvious, and more and more painful; till at last it becomes clear that sculpture has ceased to be a part of Architecture and has become an extraneous art bound to the building by habit or superstition. The form of the ornamental building of the Greeks, then, was very limited, had no capacity in it for development, and tended to divorce from its higher or epical ornament. What is to be said about the spirit of it which ruled that form? This I think: that the narrow superstition of the form of the Greek temple was not a matter of accident, but was the due expression of the exclusiveness and aristocratic arrogance of the ancient Greek mind, a natural result of which was a demand for pedantic perfection in all the parts and details of a building; so that the inferior parts of the ornament are so slavishly subordinated to the superior, that no invention or individuality is possible in them, whence comes a kind of bareness and blankness, a rejection in short of all romance, which does not indeed destroy their interest as relics of past history, but which puts the style of them aside as any possible foundation for the style of the future architecture of the world. It must be remembered also that this attempt at absolute perfection soon proved a snare to Greek Architecture; for it could not be kept up long. It was easy indeed to ensure the perfect execution of a fret or a dentil; not so easy to ensure the perfection of the higher ornament: so that as Greek energy began to fall back from its high-water mark, the demand for absolute perfection became rather a demand for absolute plausibility, which speedily dragged the architectural arts into mere Academicism.

But long before classical art reached the last depths of that degradation, it had brought to birth another style of architecture, the Roman style, which to start with was differentiated from the Greek by having the habitual use of the arch forced upon it. To my mind, organic Architecture, Architecture which must necessarily grow, dates from the habitual use of the arch, which, taking into consideration its combined utility and beauty, must be pronounced to be the greatest invention of the human race. Until the time when man not only had invented the arch, but had gathered boldness to use it habitually, architecture was necessarily so limited, that strong growth was impossible to it. It was quite natural that a people should crystallize the first convenient form of building they might happen upon, or, like the Greeks, accept a traditional form without aspiration towards anything more complex or interesting. Till the arch came into use, building men were the slaves of conditions of climate, materials, kind of labour available, and so forth. But once furnished with the arch, man has conquered Nature in the matter of building; he can defy the rigours of all climates under which men can live with fair comfort: splendid materials are not necessary to him; he can attain a good result from shabby and scrappy materials. When he wants size and span he does not need a horde of war-captured slaves to work for him; the free citizens (if there be any such) can do all that is needed without grinding their lives out before their time. The arch can do all that architecture needs, and in turn from the time when the arch comes into habitual use, the main artistic business of architecture is the decoration of the arch; the only satisfactory style is that which never disguises its office, but adorns and glorifies it. This the Roman Architecture, the first style that used the arch, did not do. It used the arch frankly and simply indeed, in one part of its work, but did not adorn it; this part of the Roman building must, however, be called engineering rather than architecture, though its massive and simple dignity is a wonderful contrast to the horrible and restless nightmare of modern engineering. In the other side of its work, the ornamental side, Roman building used the arch and adorned it, but disguised its office, and pretended that the structure of its buildings was still that of the lintel, and that the arch bore no weight worth speaking of. For the Romans had no ornamental building of their own (perhaps we should say no art of their own) and therefore fitted their ideas of the ideas of the Greek sculpture-architect on to their own massive building; and as the Greek plastered his energetic and capable civilized sculpture on to the magnified shrine of his forefathers, so the Roman plastered sculpture, shrine, and all, on to his magnificent engineer's work. In fact, this kind of front-building or veneering was the main resource of Roman ornament; the construction and ornament did not interpenetrate; and to us at this date it seems doubtful if he gained by hiding with marble veneer the solid and beautiful construction of his wall of brick or concrete; since others have used marble far better than he did, but none have built a wall or turned an arch better. As to the Roman ornament, it is not in itself worth much sacrifice of interest in the construction: the Greek ornament was cruelly limited and conventional; but everything about it was in its place, and there was a reason for everything, even though that reason were founded on superstition. But the Roman ornament has no more freedom than the Greek, while it has lost the logic of the latter: it is rich and handsome, and that is all the reason it can give for its existence; nor does its execution and its design interpenetrate. One cannot conceive of the Greek ornament existing apart from the precision of its execution; but well as the Roman ornament is executed in all important works, one almost wishes it were less well executed, so that some mystery might be added to its florid handsomeness. Once again, it is a piece of necessary history, and to criticize it from the point of view of work of today would be like finding fault with a geological epoch: and who can help feeling touched by its remnants which show crumbling and battered amidst the incongruous mass of modern houses, amidst the disorder, vulgarity and squalor of some modern town? If I have ventured to call your attention to what it was as Architecture, it is because of the abuse of it which took place in later times and has even lasted into our own anti-architectural days; and because it is necessary to point out that it has not got the qualities essential to making it a foundation for any possible new-birth of the arts. In its own time it was for centuries the only thing that redeemed the academical period of classical art from mere nothingness, and though it may almost be said to have perished before the change came, yet in perishing it gave some token of the coming change, which indeed was as slow as the decay of imperial Rome herself. It was in the height of the tax-gathering period of the Roman Peace, in the last days of Diocletian (died 313) in the palace of Spalato which he built himself to rest in after he was satiated with rule, that the rebel, Change, first showed in Roman art, and that the builders admitted that their false lintel was false, and that the arch could do without it.

This was the first obscure beginning of Gothic or organic Architecture; henceforth till the beginning of the modern epoch all is growth uninterrupted, however slow. Indeed, it is slow enough at first: Organic Architecture took two centuries to free itself from the fetters which the Academical ages had cast over it, and the Peace of Rome had vanished before it was free. But the full change came at last, and the Architecture was born which logically should have supplanted the primitive lintel-architecture, of which the civilized style of Greece was the last development. Architecture was become organic; henceforth no Academical period was possible to it, nothing but death could stop its growth.

The first expression of this freedom is called Byzantine art, and there is nothing to object to in the name. For centuries Byzantium was the centre of it, and its first great work in that city (the Church of the Holy Wisdom, built by Justinian in the year 540) remains its greatest work. The style leaps into sudden completeness in this most lovely building: for there are few works extant of much importance of earlier days. As to its origin, of course buildings were raised all through the sickness of classical art, and traditional forms and ways of work were still in use, and these traditions, which by this time included the forms of Roman building, were now in the hands of the Greeks. This Romano-Greek building in Greek hands met with traditions drawn from many sources. In Syria, the borderland of so many races and customs, the East mingled with the West, and Byzantine art was born. Its characteristics are simplicity of structure and outline of mass; amazing delicacy of ornament combined with abhorrence of vagueness: it is bright and clear in colour, pure in line, hating barrenness as much as vagueness; redundant, but not florid, the very opposite of Roman Architecture in spirit, though it took so many of its forms and revivified them. Nothing more beautiful than its best works has ever been produced by man, but in spite of its stately loveliness and quietude, it was the mother of fierce vigour in the days to come, for from its first days in St Sophia, Gothic Architecture has still one thousand years of life before it. East and West it overran the world wherever men built with history behind them. In the East it mingled with the traditions of the native populations, especially with Persia of the Sassanian period, and produced the whole body of what we, very erroneously, call Arab art (for the Arabs never had any art) from Ispahan to Granada. In the West it settled itself in the parts of Italy that Justinian had conquered, notably Ravenna, and thence came to Venice. From Italy, or perhaps even from Byzantium itself, it was carried into Germany and pre-Norman England, touching even Ireland and Scandinavia. Rome adopted it, and sent it another road through the south of France, where it fell under the influence of provincial Roman Architecture, and produced a very strong orderly and logical substyle, just what one imagines the ancient Romans might have built, if they had been able to resist the conquered Greeks who took them captive. Thence it spread all over France, the first development of the architecture of the most architectural of peoples, and in the north of that country fell under the influence of the Scandinavian and Teutonic tribes, and produced the last of the round-arched Gothic styles (named by us Norman), which those energetic warriors carried into Sicily, where it mingled with the Saracenic Byzantine and produced lovely works. But we know it best in our own country; for Duke William's intrusive monks used it everywhere, and it drove out the native English style derived from Byzantium through Germany.

Here on the verge of a new change, a change of form important enough (though not a change of essence), we may pause to consider once more what its essential qualities were. It was the first style since the invention of the arch that did due honour to it, and instead of concealing it decorated it in a logical manner. This was much; but the complete freedom that it had won, which indeed was the source of its ingenuousness, was more. It had shaken off the fetters of Greek superstition and aristocracy, and Roman pedantry, and though it must needs have had laws to be a style at all, it followed them of free will, and yet unconsciously. The cant of the beauty of simplicity (i.e., bareness and barrenness) did not afflict it; it was not ashamed of redundancy of material, or super-abundance of ornament, any more than nature is. Slim elegance it could produce, or sturdy solidity, as its moods went. Material was not its master, but its servant: marble was not necessary to its beauty; stone would do, or brick, or timber. In default of carving it would set together cubes of glass or whatsoever was shining and fair-hued, and cover every portion of its interiors with a fairy coat of splendour; or would mould mere plaster into intricacy of work scarce to be followed, but never wearying the eyes with its delicacy and expressiveness of line. Smoothness it loves, the utmost finish that the hand can give; but if material or skill fail, the rougher work shall so be wrought that it also shall please us with its inventive suggestion. For the iron rule of the classical period, the acknowledged slavery of every one but the great man, was gone, and freedom had taken its place; but harmonious freedom. Subordination there is, but subordination of effect, not uniformity of detail; true and necessary subordination, not pedantic.

The full measure of this freedom Gothic Architecture did not gain until it was in the hands of the workmen of Europe, the gildsmen of the Free Cities, who on many a bloody field proved how dearly they valued their corporate life by the generous valour with which they risked their individual lives in its defence. But from the first, the tendency was towards this freedom of hand and mind subordinated to the co-operative harmony which made the freedom possible. That is the spirit of Gothic Architecture.

Let us go on a while with our history: up to this point the progress had always been from East to West, i.e., the East carried the West with it; the West must now go East to fetch new gain thence. A revival of religion was one of the moving causes of energy in the early Middle Ages in Europe, and this religion (with its enthusiasm for visible tokens of the objects of worship) impelled people to visit the East, which held the centre of that worship. Thence arose the warlike pilgrimages of the crusades amongst races by no means prepared to turn their cheeks to the smiter. True it is that the tendency of the extreme West to seek East did not begin with the days just before the crusades. There was a thin stream of pilgrims setting eastward long before, and the Scandinavians had found their way to Byzantium, not as pilgrims but as soldiers, and under the name of Voerings a bodyguard of their blood upheld the throne of the Greek Kaiser, and many of them, returning home, bore with them ideas of art which were not lost on their scanty but energetic populations. But the crusades brought gain from the East in a far more wholesale manner; and I think it is clear that part of that gain was the idea of art that brought about the change from round-arched to pointed Gothic. In those days (perhaps in ours also) it was the rule for conquerors settling in any country to assume that there could be no other system of society save that into which they had been born; and accordingly conquered Syria received a due feudal government, with the King of Jerusalem for Suzerain, the one person allowed by the heralds to bear metal on metal in his coat-armour. Nevertheless, the Westerners who settled in this new realm, few in number as they were, readily received impressions from the art which they saw around them, the Saracenic Byzantine art, which was, after all, sympathetic with their own minds: and these impressions produced the change. For it is not to be thought that there was any direct borrowing of forms from the East in the gradual change from the round-arched to the pointed Gothic: there was nothing more obvious at work than the influence of a kindred style, whose superior lightness and elegance gave a hint of the road which development might take.

Certainly this change in form, when it came, was a startling one: the pointed-arched Gothic, when it had grown out of its brief and most beautiful transition, was a vigorous youth indeed. It carried combined strength and elegance almost as far as it could be carried: indeed, sometimes one might think it overdid the lightness of effect, as e.g., in the interior of Salisbury Cathedral. If some abbot or monk of the eleventh century could have been brought back to his rebuilt church of the thirteenth, he might almost have thought that some miracle had taken place: the huge cylindrical or square piers transformed into clusters of slim, elegant shafts; the narrow round-headed windows supplanted by tall wide lancets showing the germs of the elaborate traceries of the next century, and elegantly glazed with pattern and subject; the bold vault spanning the wide nave instead of the flat wooden ceiling of past days; the extreme richness of the mouldings with which every member is treated; the elegance and order of the floral sculpture, the grace and good drawing of the imagery: in short, a complete and logical style with no longer anything to apologize for, claiming homage from the intellect, as well as the imagination of men; the developed Gothic Architecture which has shaken off the trammels of Byzantium as well as of Rome, but which has, nevertheless, reached its glorious position step by step with no break and no conscious effort after novelty from the wall of Tiryns and the Treasury of Mycenae.

This point of development was attained amidst a period of social conflict, the facts and tendencies of which, ignored by the historians of the eighteenth century, have been laid open to our view by our modern school of evolutionary historians. In the twelfth century the actual handicraftsmen found themselves at last face to face with the development of the earlier associations of freemen which were the survivals from the tribal society of Europe: in the teeth of these exclusive and aristocratic municipalities the handicraftsmen had associated themselves into guilds of craft, and were claiming their freedom from legal and arbitrary oppression, and a share in the government of the towns; by the end of the thirteenth century they had conquered the position everywhere and within the next fifty or sixty years the governors of the free towns were the delegates of the craft guilds, and all handicraft was included in their associations. This period of their triumph, marked amidst other events by the Battle of Courtray, where the chivalry of France turned their backs in flight before the Flemish weavers, was the period during which Gothic Architecture reached its zenith. It must be admitted, I think, that during this epoch, as far as the art of beautiful building is concerned, France and England were the architectural countries par excellence; but all over the intelligent world was spread this bright, glittering, joyous art, which had now reached its acme of elegance and beauty; and moreover in its furniture, of which I have spoken above, the excellence was shared in various measure betwixt the countries of Europe. And let me note in passing that the necessarily ordinary conception of a Gothic interior as being a colourless whitey-grey place dependent on nothing but the architectural forms, is about as far from the fact as the corresponding idea of a Greek temple standing in all the chastity of white marble. We must remember, on the contrary, that both buildings were clad, and that the noblest part of their raiment was their share of a great epic, a story appealing to the hearts and minds of men. And in the Gothic building, especially in the half century we now have before us, every part of it, walls, windows, floor, was all looked on as space for the representation of incidents of the great story of mankind, as it had presented itself to the minds of men then living; and this space was used with the greatest frankness of prodigality, and one may fairly say that wherever a picture could be painted there it was painted.

For now Gothic Architecture had completed its furniture: Dante, Chaucer, Petrarch, the German Hero balladepics, the French Romances, the English Forest-ballads, that epic of revolt, as it has been called, the Icelandic Sagas, Froissart and the Chroniclers, represent its literature. Its painting embraces a host of names (of Italy and Flanders chiefly), the two great realists Giotto and Van Eyck at their head: but every village has its painter, its carvers, its actors even; every man who produces works of handicraft is an artist. The few pieces of household goods left of its wreckage are marvels of beauty; its woven cloths and embroideries are worthy of its loveliest building, its pictures and ornamented books would be enough in themselves to make a great period of art, so excellent they are in epic intention, in completeness of unerring decoration, and in marvellous skill of hand. In short, those masterpieces of noble building, those specimens of Architecture, as we call them, the sight of which makes the holiday of our lives to-day, are the standard of the whole art of those times, and tell the story of all the completeness of art in the heyday of life, as well as that of the sad story which follows. For when anything human has arrived at quasi-completion there remains for it decay and death, in order that the new thing may be born from it; and this wonderful joyous art of the Middle Ages could by no means escape its fate.

In the middle of the fourteenth century Europe was scourged by that mysterious terror the Black Death (a terror similar to which perhaps waylays the modern world) and, along with it, the no less mysterious pests of Commercialism and Bureaucracy attacked us. This misfortune was the turning point of the Middle Ages; once again a great change was at hand.

The birth and growth of the coming change was marked by art with all fidelity. Gothic Architecture began to alter its character in the years that immediately followed on the Great Pest; it began to lose its exaltation of style and to suffer a diminution in the generous wealth of beauty which it gave us in its heyday. In some places, e.g., England, it grew more crabbed, and even sometimes more commonplace; in others, as in France, it lost order, virility, and purity of line. But for a long time yet it was alive and vigorous, and showed even greater capacity than before for adapting itself to the needs of a developing society: nor did the change of style affect all its furniture injuriously; some of the subsidiary arts as e.g., Flemish tapestry and English wood-carving, rather gained than lost for many years.

At last, with the close of the fifteenth century, the Great Change became obvious; and we must remember that it was no superficial change of form, but a change of spirit affecting every form inevitably. This change we have somewhat boastfully, and as regards the arts quite untruthfully, called the New Birth. But let us see what it means.

Society was preparing for a complete recasting of its elements: the Mediaeval Society of Status was in process of transition into the modern Society of Contract. New classes were being formed to fit the new system of production which was at the bottom of this; political life began again with the new birth of bureaucracy; and political, as distinguished from natural, nationalities were being hammered together for the use of that bureaucracy, which was itself a necessity to the new system. And withal a new religion was being fashioned to fit the new theory of life: in short, the Age of Commercialism was being born.

Now some of us think that all this was a source of misery and degradation to the world at the time, that it is still causing misery and degradation, and that as a system it is bound to give place to a better one. Yet we admit that it had a beneficent function to perform; that amidst all the ugliness and confusion which it brought with it, it was a necessary instrument for the development of freedom of thought and the capacities of man; for the subjugation of nature to his material needs. This Great Change, I say, was necessary and inevitable, and on this side, the side of commerce and commercial science and politics, was a genuine new birth. On this side it did not look backward but forward: there had been nothing like it in past history; it was founded on no pedantic model; necessity, not whim, was its crafts-master.

But, strange to say, to this living body of social, political, religious, scientific New Birth was bound the dead corpse of a past art. On every other side it bade men look forward to some change or other, were it good or bad: on the side of art, with the sternest pedagogic utterance, it bade men look backward across the days of the ‘Fathers and famous men that begat them’, and in scorn of them, to an art that had been dead a thousand years before. Hitherto, from the very beginning the past was past, all of it that was not alive in the present, unconsciously to the men of the present. Henceforth the past was to be our present, and the blankness of its dead wall was to shut out the future from us. There are many artists at present who do not sufficiently estimate the enormity, the portentousness of this change, and how closely it is connected with the Victorian Architecture of the brick box and the slate lid, which helps to make us the dullards that we are. How on earth could people's ideas of beauty change so? you may say. Well, was it their ideas of beauty that changed? Was it not rather that beauty, however unconsciously, was no longer an object of attainment with the men of that epoch?

This used once to puzzle me in the presence of one of the so-called masterpieces of the New Birth, the revived classical style, such a building as St Paul's in London, for example. I have found it difficult to put myself in the frame of mind which could accept such a work as a substitute for even the latest and worst Gothic building. Such taste seemed to me like the taste of a man who should prefer his lady-love bald. But now I know that it was not a matter of choice on the part of any one then alive who had an eye for beauty: if the change had been made on the grounds of beauty it would be wholly inexplicable; but it was not so. In the early days of the Renaissance there were artists possessed of the highest qualities; but those great men (whose greatness, mind you, was only in work not carried out by co-operation, painting, and sculpture for the most part) were really but the fruit of the blossoming-time, the Gothic period; as was abundantly proved by the succeeding periods of the Renaissance, which produced nothing but inanity and plausibility in all the arts. A few individual artists were great truly; but artists were no longer the masters of art, because the people had ceased to be artists: its masters were pedants. St Peter's in Rome, St Paul's in London, were not built to be beautiful, or to be beautiful and convenient. They were not built to be homes of the citizens in their moments of exaltation, their supreme grief or supreme hope, but to be proper, respectable, and therefore to show the due amount of cultivation and knowledge of the only peoples and times that in the minds of their ignorant builders were not ignorant barbarians. They were built to be the homes of a decent unenthusiastic ecclesiasticism, of those whom we sometimes call Dons now-a-days. Beauty and romance were outside the aspirations of their builders. Nor could it have been otherwise in those days; for, once again, architectural beauty is the result of the harmonious and intelligent co-operation of the whole body of people engaged in producing the work of the workman; and by the time that the changeling New Birth was grown to be a vigorous imp, such workmen no longer existed. By that time Europe had begun to transform the great army of artist-craftsmen, who had produced the beauty of her cities, her churches, manor-houses and cottages, into an enormous stock of human machines, who had little chance of earning a bare livelihood if they lingered over their toil to think of what they were doing: who were not asked to think, paid to think, or allowed to think. That invention we have, I should hope, about perfected by this time, and it must soon give place to a new one. Which is happy; for as long as the invention is in use you need not trouble yourselves about Architecture, since you will not get it, as the common expression of our life, that is as a genuine thing.

But at present I am not going to say anything about direct remedies for the miseries of the New Birth; I can only tell you what you ought to do if you can. I want you to see that from the brief historic review of the progress of the Arts it results that to-day there is only one style of Architecture on which it is possible to found a true living art, which is free to adapt itself to the varying conditions of social life, climate, and so forth, and that that style is Gothic Architecture. The greater part of what we now call Architecture is but an imitation of an imitation of an imitation, the result of a tradition of dull respectability, or of foolish whims without root or growth in them.

Let us look at an instance of pedantic retrospection employed in the service of art. A Greek columnar temple when it was a real thing, was a kind of holy railing built round a shrine: these things the people of that day wanted, and they naturally took the form of a Greek Temple under the climate of Greece and given the mood of its people. But do we want those things? If so, I should like to know what for. And if we pretend we do and so force a Greek Temple on a modern city, we produce such a gross piece of ugly absurdity as you may see spanning the Lochs at Edinburgh. In these islands we want a roof and walls with windows cut in them; and these things a Greek Temple does not pretend to give us.

Will a Roman building allow us to have these necessaries? Well, only on the terms that we are to be ashamed of wall, roof and windows, and pretend that we haven't got either of them, but rather a whimsical attempt at the imitation of a Greek Temple.

Will a neo-classical building allow us these necessities? Pretty much on the same terms as the Roman one; except when it is rather more than half Gothic. It will force us to pretend that we have neither roof, walls, nor windows, nothing but an imitation of the Roman travesty of a Greek Temple.

Now a Gothic building has walls that it is not ashamed of; and in those walls you may cut windows wherever you please; and, if you please, may decorate them to show that you are not ashamed of them; your windows, which you must have, become one of the great beauties of your house, and you have no longer to make a lesion in logic in order not to sit in pitchy darkness in your own house, as in the sham sham-Roman style: your window, I say, is no longer a concession to human weakness, an ugly necessity (generally ugly enough in all conscience) but a glory of the Art of Building. As for the roof in the sham style: unless the building is infected with Gothic common sense, you must pretend that you are living in a hot country which needs nothing but an awning, and that it never rains or snows in these islands. Whereas in a Gothic building the roof both within and without (especially within, as is most meet) is the crown of its beauties, the abiding place of its brain.

Again, consider the exterior of our buildings, that part of them that is common to all passers-by, and that no man can turn into private property unless he builds amidst an inaccessible park. The original of our neoclassic architecture was designed for marble in a bright dry climate, which only weathers it to a golden tone. Do we really like a neo-classic building weather-beaten by the roughness of hundreds of English winters from October to June? And on the other hand, can any of us fail to be touched by the weathered surface of a Gothic building which has escaped the restorers' hands? Do we not clearly know the latter to be a piece of nature, that more excellent mood of nature that uses the hands and wills of men as instruments of creation?

Indeed time would fail me to go into the many sides of the contrast between the Architecture which is a mere pedantic imitation of what was once alive, and that which after a development of long centuries has still in it, as I think, capacities for fresh developments, since its life was cut short by an arbitrary recurrence to a style which had long lost all elements of life and growth. Once for all, then, when the modern world finds that the eclecticism of the present is barren and fruitless, and that it needs and will have a style of Architecture which, I must tell you once more, can only be as part of a change as wide and deep as that which destroyed Feudalism; when it has come to that conclusion, the style of Architecture will have to be historic in the true sense; it will not be able to dispense with tradition; it cannot begin at least with doing something quite different from anything that has been done before; yet whatever the form of it may be, the spirit of it will be sympathy with the needs and aspirations of its own time, not simulation of needs and aspirations passed away. Thus it will remember the history of the past, make history in the present, and teach history in the future. As to the form of it, I see nothing for it but that the form, as well as the spirit, must be Gothic; an organic style cannot spring out of an eclectic one, but only from an organic one. In the future, therefore, our style of architecture must be Gothic Architecture.

And meanwhile of the world demanding Architecture, what are we to do? Meanwhile? After all, is there any meanwhile? Are we not now demanding Gothic Architecture and crying for the fresh New Birth? To me it seems so. It is true that the world is uglier now than it was fifty years ago; but then people thought that ugliness a desirable thing, and looked at it with complacency as a sign of civilization, which no doubt it is. Now we are no longer complacent, but are grumbling in a dim unorganized manner. We feel a loss, and unless we are very unreal and helpless we shall presently begin to try to supply that loss. Art cannot be dead so long as we feel the lack of it, I say: and though we shall probably try many roundabout ways for filling up the lack; yet we shall at last be driven into the one right way of concluding that in spite of all risks, and all losses, unhappy and slavish work must come to an end. In that day we shall take Gothic Architecture by the hand, and know it for what it was and what it is.

Lecture given to the Arts and Crafts

Exhibition Society, London 1889

The Lesser Arts

Hereafter I hope in another lecture to have the pleasure of laying before you an historical survey of the lesser, or as they are called the Decorative Arts, and I must confess it would have been pleasanter to me to have begun my talk with you by entering at once upon the subject of the history of this great industry; but, as I have something to say in a third lecture about various matters connected with the practice of Decoration among ourselves in these days, I feel that I should be in a false position before you, and one that might lead to confusion, or overmuch explanation, if I did not let you know what I think on the nature and scope of these arts, on their condition at the present time, and their outlook in times to come. In doing this it is like enough that I shall say things with which you will very much disagree; I must ask you therefore from the outset to believe that whatever I may blame or whatever I may praise, I neither, when I think of what history has been, am inclined to lament the past, to despise the present, or despair of the future; that I believe all the change and stir about us is a sign of the world's life, and that it will lead - by ways, indeed, of which we have no guess - to the bettering of all mankind.

Now as to the scope and nature of these Arts I have to say, that though when I come more into the details of my subject I shall not meddle much with the great art of Architecture, and less still with the great arts commonly called Sculpture and Painting, yet I cannot in my own mind quite sever them from those lesser so-called Decorative Arts, which I have to speak about: it is only in latter times, and under the most intricate conditions of life, that they have fallen apart from one another; and I hold that, when they are so parted, it is ill for the Arts altogether: the lesser ones become trivial, mechanical, unintelligent, incapable of resisting the changes pressed upon them by fashion or dishonesty; while the greater, however they may be practised for a while by men of great minds and wonder-working hands, unhelped by the lesser, unhelped by each other, are sure to lose their dignity of popular arts, and become nothing but dull adjuncts to unmeaning pomp, or ingenious toys for a few rich and idle men.

However, I have not undertaken to talk to you of Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting, in the narrower sense of those words, since, most unhappily I think, these master-arts, these arts more specially of the intellect, are at the present day divorced from decoration in its narrower sense. Our subject is that great body of art, by means of which men have at all times more or less striven to beautify the familiar matters of everyday life: a wide subject, a great industry; both a great part of the history of the world, and a most helpful instrument to the study of that history.

A very great industry indeed, comprising the crafts of house-building, painting, joinery and carpentry, smiths' work, pottery and glass-making, weaving, and many others: a body of art most important to the public in general, but still more so to us handicraftsmen; since there is scarce anything that they use, and that we fashion, but it has always been thought to be unfinished till it has had some touch or other of decoration about it. True it is that in many or most cases we have got so used to this ornament, that we look upon it as if it had grown of itself, and note it no more than the mosses on the dry sticks with which we light our fires. So much the worse! for there is the decoration, or some pretence of it, and it has, or ought to have, a use and a meaning. For, and this is at the root of the whole matter, everything made by man's hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent: we, for our parts, are busy or sluggish, eager or unhappy, and our eyes are apt to get dulled to this eventfulness of form in those things which we are always looking at. Now it is one of the chief uses of decoration, the chief part of its alliance with nature, that it has to sharpen our dulled senses in this matter: for this end are those wonders of intricate patterns interwoven, those strange forms invented, which men have so long delighted in: forms and intricacies that do not necessarily imitate nature, but in which the hand of the craftsman is guided to work in the way that she does, till the web, the cup, or the knife, look as natural, nay as lovely, as the green field, the river bank, or the mountain flint.

To give people pleasure in the things they must perforce use, that is one great office of decoration; to give people pleasure in the things they must perforce make, that is the other use of it.

Does not our subject look important enough now? I say that without these arts, our rest would be vacant and uninteresting, our labour mere endurance, mere wearing away of body and mind.

As for that last use of these arts, the giving us pleasure in our work, I scarcely know how to speak strongly enough of it; and yet if I did not know the value of repeating a truth again and again, I should have to excuse myself to you for saying any more about this, when I remember how a great man now living has spoken of it: I mean my friend Professor John Ruskin: if you read the chapter in the second volume of his Stones of Venice entitled, ‘On the Nature of Gothic, and the Office of the Workman Therein’, you will read at once the truest and the most eloquent words that can possibly be said on the subject. What I have to say upon it can scarcely be more than an echo of his words, yet I repeat there is some use in reiterating a truth, lest it be forgotten; so I will say this much further: we all know what people have said about the curse of labour, and what heavy and grievous nonsense are the more part of their words thereupon; whereas indeed the real curses of craftsmen have been the curse of stupidity, and the curse of injustice from within and from without: no, I cannot suppose there is anybody here who would think it either a good life, or an amusing one, to sit with one's hands before one doing nothing - to live like a gentleman, as fools call it.

Nevertheless there is dull work to be done, and a weary business it is setting men about such work, and seeing them through it, and I would rather do the work twice over with my own hands than have such a job: but now only let the arts which we are talking of beautify our labour, and be widely spread, intelligent, well understood both by the maker and the user, let them grow in one word popular, and there will be pretty much an end of dull work and its wearing slavery; and no man will any longer have an excuse for talking about the curse of labour, no man will any longer have an excuse for evading the blessing of labour. I believe there is nothing that will aid the world's progress so much as the attainment of this; I protest there is nothing in the world that I desire so much as this, wrapped up, as I am sure it is, with changes political and social, that in one way or another we all desire.

Now if the objection be made, that these arts have been the handmaids of luxury, of tyranny, and of superstition, I must needs say that it is true in a sense; they have been so used, as many other excellent things have been. But it is also true that, among some nations, their most vigorous and freest times have been the very blossoming times of art: while at the same time, I must allow that these Decorative Arts have flourished among oppressed peoples, who have seemed to have no hope of freedom: yet I do not think that we shall be wrong in thinking that at such times, among such peoples, art, at least, was free; when it has not been, when it has really been gripped by superstition, or by luxury, it has straightway begun to sicken under that grip. Nor must you forget that when men say popes, kings, and emperors built such and such buildings, it is a mere way of speaking. You look in your history-books to see who built Westminster Abbey, who built St Sophia at Constantinople, and they tell you Henry III, Justinian the Emperor. Did they? or, rather, men like you and me, handicraftsmen, who have left no names behind them, nothing but their work?

Now as these arts call people's attention and interest to the matters of everyday life in the present, so also, and that I think is no little matter, they call our attention at every step to that history, of which, I said before, they are so great a part; for no nation, no state of society, however rude, has been wholly without them: nay, there are peoples not a few, of whom we know scarce anything, save that they thought such and such forms beautiful. So strong is the bond between history and decoration, that in the practice of the latter we cannot, if we would, wholly shake off the influence of past times over what we do at present. I do not think it is too much to say that no man, however original he may be, can sit down to-day and draw the ornament of a cloth, or the form of an ordinary vessel or piece of furniture, that will be other than a development or a degradation of forms used hundreds of years ago; and these, too, very often, forms that once had a serious meaning, though they are now become little more than a habit of the hand; forms that were once perhaps the mysterious symbols of worships and beliefs now little remembered or wholly forgotten. Those who have diligently followed the delightful study of these arts are able as if through windows to look upon the life of the past: - the very first beginnings of thought among nations whom we cannot even name; the terrible empires of the ancient East; the free vigour and glory of Greece; the heavy weight, the firm grasp of Rome; the fall of her temporal Empire which spread so wide about the world all that good and evil which men can never forget, and never cease to feel; the clashing of East and West, South and North, about her rich and fruitful daughter Byzantium; the rise, the dissensions, and the waning of Islam; the wanderings of Scandinavia; the Crusades; the foundation of the States of modern Europe; the struggles of free thought with ancient dying system - with all these events and their meaning is the history of popular art interwoven; with all this, I say, the careful student of decoration as an historical industry must be familiar. When I think of this, and the usefulness of all this knowledge, at a time when history has become so earnest a study amongst us as to have given us, as it were, a new sense: at a time when we so long to know the reality of all that has happened, and are to be put off no longer with the dull records of the battles and intrigues of kings and scoundrels, - I say when I think of all this, I hardly know how to say that this interweaving of the Decorative Arts with the history of the past is of less importance than their dealings with the life of the present: for should not these memories also be a part of our daily life?

And now let me recapitulate a little before I go further, before we begin to look into the condition of the arts at the present day. These arts, I have said, are part of a great system invented for the expression of a man's delight in beauty: all peoples and times have used them; they have been the joy of free nations, and the solace of oppressed nations; religion has used and elevated them, has abused and degraded them; they are connected with all history, and are clear teachers of it; and, best of all, they are the sweeteners of human labour, both to the handicraftsman, whose life is spent in working in them, and to people in general who are influenced by the sight of them at every turn of the day's work: they make our toil happy, our rest fruitful.

And now if all I have said seems to you but mere open-mouthed praise of these arts, I must say that it is not for nothing that what I have hitherto put before you has taken that form.

It is because I must now ask you this question: All these good things - will you have them? will you cast them from you?

Are you surprised at my question - you, most of whom, like myself, are engaged in the actual practice of the arts that are, or ought to be, popular?

In explanation, I must somewhat repeat what I have already said. Time was when the mystery and wonder of handicrafts were well acknowledged by the world, when imagination and fancy mingled with all things made by man; and in those days all handicraftsmen were artists, as we should now call them. But the thought of man became more intricate, more difficult to express; art grew a heavier thing to deal with, and its labour was more divided among great men, lesser men, and little men; till that art, which was once scarce more than a rest of body and soul, as the hand cast the shuttle or swung the hammer, became to some men so serious a labour, that their working lives have been one long tragedy of hope and fear, joy and trouble. This was the growth of art: like all growth, it was good and fruitful for awhile; like all fruitful growth, it grew into decay; like all decay of what was once fruitful, it will grow into something new.

Into decay; for as the arts sundered into the greater and the lesser, contempt on one side, carelessness on the other arose, both begotten of ignorance of that philosophy of the Decorative Arts, a hint of which I have tried just now to put before you. The artist came out from the handicraftsmen, and left them without hope of elevation, while he himself was left without the help of intelligent, industrious sympathy. Both have suffered; the artist no less than the workman. It is with art as it fares with a company of soldiers before a redoubt, when the captain runs forward full of hope and energy, but looks not behind him to see if his men are following, and they hang back, not knowing why they are brought there to die. The captain's life is spent for nothing, and his men are sullen prisoners in the redoubt of Unhappiness and Brutality.

I must in plain words say of the Decorative Arts, of all the arts, that it is not so much that we are inferior in them to all who have gone before us, but rather that they are in a state of anarchy and disorganization, which makes a sweeping change necessary and certain.

So that again I ask my question, All that good fruit which the arts should bear, will you have it? will you cast it from you? Shall that sweeping change that must come, be the change of loss or of gain?

We who believe in the continuous life of the world, surely we are bound to hope that the change will bring us gain and not loss, and to strive to bring that gain about.

Yet how the world may answer my question, who can say? A man in his short life can see but a little way ahead, and even in mine wonderful and unexpected things have come to pass. I must needs say that therein lies my hope rather than in all I see going on round about us. Without disputing that if the imaginative arts perish, some new thing, at present unguessed of, may be put forward to supply their loss in men's lives, I cannot feel happy in that prospect, nor can I believe that mankind will endure such a loss for ever: but in the meantime the present state of the arts and their dealings with modern life and progress seem to me to point, in appearance at least, to this immediate future; that the world, which has for a long time busied itself about other matters than the arts, and has carelessly let them sink lower and lower, till many not uncultivated men, ignorant of what they once were, and hopeless of what they might yet be, look upon them with mere contempt; that the world, I say, thus busied and hurried, will one day wipe the slate, and be clean rid in her impatience of the whole matter with all its tangle and trouble.

And then - what then?

Even now amid the squalor of London it is hard to imagine what it will be. Architecture, Sculpture, Painting, with the crowd of lesser arts that belong to them, these, together with Music and Poetry, will be dead and forgotten, will no longer excite or amuse people in the least: for, once more, we must not deceive ourselves; the death of one art means the death of all; the only difference in their fate will be that the luckiest will be eaten the last - the luckiest, or the unluckiest: in all that has to do with beauty the invention and ingenuity of man will have come to a dead stop; and all the while Nature will go on with her eternal recurrence of lovely changes - spring, summer, autumn, and winter; sunshine, rain, and snow; storm and fair weather; dawn, noon, and sunset; day and night - ever bearing witness against man that he has deliberately chosen ugliness instead of beauty, and to live where he is strongest amidst squalor or blank emptiness.

You see, sirs, we cannot quite imagine it; any more, perhaps, than our forefathers of ancient London, living in the pretty, carefully whitened houses, with the famous church and its huge spire rising above them, - than they, passing about the fair gardens running down to the broad river, could have imagined a whole county or more covered over with hideous hovels, big, middle-sized, and little, which should one day be called London.

Sirs, I say that this dead blank of the arts that I more than dread is difficult even now to imagine; yet I fear that I must say that if it does not come about, it will be owing to some turn of events which we cannot at present foresee: but I hold that if it does happen, it will only last for a time, that it will be but a burning up of the gathered weeds, so that the field may bear more abundantly. I hold that men would wake up after a while, and look round and find the dullness unbearable, and begin once more inventing, imitating, and imagining, as in earlier days.

That faith comforts me, and I can say calmly if the blank space must happen, it must, and amidst its darkness the new seed must sprout. So it has been before: first comes birth, and hope scarcely conscious of itself; then the flower and fruit of mastery, with hope more than conscious enough, passing into insolence, as decay follows ripeness; and then - the new birth again.

Meantime it is the plain duty of all who look seriously on the arts to do their best to save the world from what at the best will be a loss, the result of ignorance and unwisdom; to prevent, in fact, that most discouraging of all changes, the supplying the place of an extinct brutality by a new one; nay, even if those who really care for the arts are so weak and few that they can do nothing else, it may be their business to keep alive some tradition, some memory of the past, so that the new life when it comes may not waste itself more than enough in fashioning wholly new forms for its new spirit.

To what side then shall those turn for help, who really understand the gain of a great art in the world, and the loss of peace and good life that must follow from the lack of it? I think that they must begin by acknowledging that the ancient art, the art of unconscious intelligence, as one should call it, which began without a date, at least so long ago as those strange and masterly scratchings on mammoth-bones and the like found but the other day in the drift - that this art of unconscious intelligence is all but dead; that what little of it is left lingers among half-civilized nations, and is growing coarser, feebler, less intelligent year by year; nay, it is mostly at the mercy of some commercial accident, such as the arrival of a few shiploads of European dye-stuffs or a few dozen orders from European merchants: this they must recognize, and must hope to see in time its place filled by a new art of conscious intelligence, the birth of wiser, simpler, freer ways of life than the world leads now, than the world has ever led.

I said, to see this in time; I do not mean to say that our own eyes will look upon it: it may be so far off, as indeed it seems to some, that many would scarcely think it worth while thinking of: but there are some of us who cannot turn our faces to the wall, or sit deedless because our hope seems somewhat dim; and, indeed, I think that while the signs of the last decay of the old art with all the evils that must follow in its train are only too obvious about us, so on the other hand there are not wanting signs of the new dawn beyond that possible night of the arts, of which I have before spoken; this sign chiefly, that there are some few at least who are heartily discontented with things as they are, and crave for something better, or at least some promise of it - this best of signs: for I suppose that if some half-dozen men at any time earnestly set their hearts on something coming about which is not discordant with nature, it will come to pass one day or other; because it is not by accident that an idea comes into the heads of a few; rather they are pushed on, and forced to speak or act by something stirring in the heart of the world which would otherwise be left without expression.

By what means then shall those work who long for reform in the arts, and who shall they seek to kindle into eager desire for possession of beauty, and better still, for the development of the faculty that creates beauty?

People say to me often enough: If you want to make your art succeed and flourish, you must make it the fashion: a phrase which I confess annoys me; for they mean by it that I should spend one day over my work to two days in trying to convince rich, and supposed influential people, that they care very much for what they really do not care in the least, so that it may happen according to the proverb: Bell-wether took the leap, and we all went over. Well, such advisers are right if they are content with the thing lasting but a little while; say till you can make a little money - if you don't get pinched by the door shutting too quickly: otherwise they are wrong: the people they are thinking of have too many strings to their bow, and can turn their backs too easily on a thing that fails, for it to be safe work trusting to their whims: it is not their fault, they cannot help it, but they have no chance of spending time enough over the arts to know anything practical of them, and they must of necessity be in the hands of those who spend their time in pushing fashion this way and that for their own advantage.

Sirs, there is no help to be got out of these latter, or those who let themselves be led by them: the only real help for the Decorative Arts must come from those who work in them; nor must they be led, they must lead.

You whose hands make those things that should be works of art, you must be all artists, and good artists too, before the public at large can take real interest in such things; and when you have become so, I promise you that you shall lead the fashion; fashion shall follow your hands obediently enough.

That is the only way in which we can get a supply of intelligent popular art: a few artists of the kind so-called now, what can they do working in the teeth of difficulties thrown in their way by what is called Commerce, but which should be called greed of money? working helplessly among the crowd of those who are ridiculously called manufacturers, i.e., handicraftsmen, though the more part of them never did a stroke of hand-work in their lives, and are nothing better than capitalists and salesmen. What can these grains of sand do, I say, amidst the enormous mass of work turned out every year which professes in some way to be decorative art, but the decoration of which no one heeds except the salesmen who have to do with it, and are hard put to it to supply the cravings of the public for something new, not for something pretty?

The remedy, I repeat, is plain if it can be applied; the handicraftsman, left behind by the artist when the arts sundered, must come up with him, must work side by side with him: apart from the difference between a great master and a scholar, apart from the differences of the natural bent of men's minds, which would make one man an imitative, and another an architectural or decorative artist, there should be no difference between those employed on strictly ornamental work; and the body of artists dealing with this should quicken with their art all makers of things into artists also, in proportion to the necessities and uses of the things they would make.

I know what stupendous difficulties, social and economical, there are in the way of this; yet I think that they seem to be greater than they are: and of one thing I am sure, that no real living decorative art is possible if this is impossible.

It is not impossible, on the contrary it is certain to come about, if you are at heart desirous to quicken the arts; if the world will, for the sake of beauty and decency, sacrifice some of the things it is so busy over (many of which I think are not very worthy of its trouble), art will begin to grow again; as for those difficulties above mentioned, some of them I know will in any case melt away before the steady change of the relative conditions of men; the rest, reason and resolute attention to the laws of nature, which are also the laws of art, will dispose of little by little: once more, the way will not be far to seek, if the will be with us.

Yet, granted the will, and though the way lies ready to us, we must not be discouraged if the journey seem barren enough at first, nay, not even if things seem to grow worse for a while: for it is natural enough that the very evil which has forced on the beginning of reform should look uglier, while on the one hand life and wisdom are building up the new, and on the other folly and deadness are hugging the old to them.

In this, as in all other matters, lapse of time will be needed before things seem to straighten, and the courage and patience that does not despise small things lying ready to be done; and care and watchfulness, lest we begin to build the wall ere the footings are well in; and always through all things much humility that is not easily cast down by failure, that seeks to be taught, and is ready to learn.

For your teachers, they must be Nature and History: as for the first, that you must learn of it is so obvious that I need not dwell upon that now: hereafter, when I have to speak more of matters of detail, I may have to speak of the manner in which you must learn of Nature. As to the second, I do not think that any man but one of the highest genius, could do anything in these days without much study of ancient art, and even he would be much hindered if he lacked it. If you think that this contradicts what I said about the death of that ancient art, and the necessity I implied for an art that should be characteristic of the present day, I can only say that, in these times of plenteous knowledge and meagre performance, if we do not study the ancient work directly and learn to understand it, we shall find ourselves influenced by the feeble work all round us, and shall be copying the better work through the copyists and without understanding it, which will by no means bring about intelligent art. Let us therefore study it wisely, be taught by it, kindled by it; all the while determining not to imitate or repeat it; to have either no art at all, or an art which we have made our own.

Yet I am almost brought to a stand-still when bidding you to study nature and the history of art, by remembering that this is London, and what it is like: how can I ask working-men passing up and down these hideous streets day by day to care about beauty? If it were politics, we must care about that; or science, you could wrap yourselves up in the study of facts, no doubt, without much caring what goes on about you - but beauty! do you not see what terrible difficulties beset art, owing to a long neglect of art - and neglect of reason, too, in this matter? It is such a heavy question by what effort, by what dead-lift, you can thrust this difficulty from you, that I must perforce set it aside for the present, and must at least hope that the study of history and its monuments will help you somewhat herein. If you can really fill your minds with memories of great works of art, and great times of art, you will, I think, be able to a certain extent to look through the aforesaid ugly surroundings, and will be moved to discontent of what is careless and brutal now, and will, I hope, at last be so much discontented with what is bad, that you will determine to bear no longer that short-sighted, reckless brutality of squalor that so disgraces our intricate civilization.

Well, at any rate, London is good for this, that it is well off for museums - which I heartily wish were to be got at seven days in the week instead of six, or at least on the only day on which an ordinarily busy man, one of the taxpayers who support them, can as a rule see them quietly - and certainly any of us who may have any natural turn for art must get more help from frequenting them than one can well say. It is true, however, that people need some preliminary instruction before they can get all the good possible to be got from the prodigious treasures of art possessed by the country in that form: there also one sees things in a piecemeal way: nor can I deny that there is something melancholy about a museum, such a tale of violence, destruction, and carelessness, as its treasured scraps tell us.

But moreover you may sometimes have an opportunity of studying ancient art in a narrower but a more intimate, a more kindly form, the monuments of our own land. Sometimes only, since we live in the middle of this world of brick and mortar, and there is little else left us amidst it, except the ghost of the great church at Westminster, ruined as its exterior is by the stupidity of the restoring architect, and insulted as its glorious interior is by the pompous undertakers' lies, by the vainglory and ignorance of the last two centuries and a half - little besides that and the matchless Hall near it: but when we can get beyond that smoky world, there, out in the country, we may still see the works of our fathers yet alive amidst the very nature they were wrought into, and of which they are so completely a part. For there indeed if anywhere, in the English country, in the days when people cared about such things, was there a full sympathy between the works of man, and the land they were made for. The land is a little land; too much shut up within the narrow seas, as it seems, to have much space for swelling into hugeness: there are no great wastes overwhelming in their dreariness, no great solitudes of forests, no terrible untrodden mountainwalls: all is measured, mingled, varied, gliding easily one thing into another: little rivers, little plains, swelling, speedily-changing uplands, all beset with handsome orderly trees; little hills, little mountains, netted over with the walls of sheep-walks: all is little; yet not foolish and blank, but serious rather, and abundant of meaning for such as choose to seek it: it is neither prison nor palace, but a decent home.

All which I neither praise nor blame, but say that so it is: some people praise this homeliness overmuch, as if the land were the very axle-tree of the world; so do not I, nor any unblinded by pride in themselves and all that belongs to them: others there are who scorn it and the tameness of it: not I any the more: though it would indeed be hard if there were nothing else in the world, no wonders, no terrors, no unspeakable beauties: yet when we think what a small part of the world's history, past, present, and to come, is this land we live in, and how much smaller still in the history of the arts, and yet how our forefathers clung to it, and with what care and pains they adorned it, this unromantic, uneventfullooking land of England, surely by this too our hearts may be touched, and our hope quickened.

For as was the land, such was the art of it while folk yet troubled themselves about such things; it strove little to impress people either by pomp or ingenuity: not unseldom it fell into commonplace, rarely it rose into majesty; yet was it never oppressive, never a slave's nightmare nor an insolent boast: and at its best it had an inventiveness, an individuality that grander styles have never overpassed: its best too, and that was in its very heart, was given as freely to the yeoman's house, and the humble village church, as to the lord's palace or the mighty cathedral: never coarse, though often rude enough, sweet, natural and unaffected, an art of peasants rather than of merchant-princes or courtiers, it must be a hard heart, I think, that does not love it: whether a man has been born among it like ourselves, or has come wonderingly on its simplicity from all the grandeur overseas. A peasant art, I say, and it clung fast to the life of the people, and still lived among the cottagers and yeomen in many parts of the country while the big houses were being built ‘French and fine’: still lived also in many a quaint pattern of loom and printing-block, and embroiderer's needle, while overseas stupid pomp had extinguished all nature and freedom, and art was become, in France especially, the mere expression of that successful and exultant rascality, which in the flesh no long time afterwards went down into the pit for ever.

Such was the English art, whose history is in a sense at your doors, grown scarce indeed, and growing scarcer year by year, not only through greedy destruction, of which there is certainly less than there used to be, but also through the attacks of another foe, called nowadays ‘restoration’.

I must not make a long story about this, but also I cannot quite pass it over, since I have pressed on you the study of these ancient monuments. Thus the matter stands: these old buildings have been altered and added to century after century, often beautifully, always historically; their very value, a great part of it, lay in that: they have suffered almost always from neglect also, often from violence (that latter a piece of history often far from uninteresting), but ordinary obvious mending would almost always have kept them standing, pieces of nature and of history.

But of late years a great uprising of ecclesiastical zeal, coinciding with a great increase of study, and consequently of knowledge of mediaeval architecture, has driven people into spending their money on these buildings, not merely with the purpose of repairing them, of keeping them safe, clean, and wind and water-tight, but also of ‘restoring’ them to some ideal state of perfection; sweeping away if possible all signs of what has befallen them at least since the Reformation, and often since dates much earlier: this has sometimes been done with much disregard of art and entirely from ecclesiastical zeal, but oftener it has been well meant enough as regards art: yet you will not have listened to what I have said to-night if you do not see that from my point of view this restoration must be as impossible to bring about, as the attempt at it is destructive to the buildings so dealt with: I scarcely like to think what a great part of them have been made nearly useless to students of art and history: unless you knew a great deal about architecture you perhaps would scarce understand what terrible damage has been done by that dangerous ‘little knowledge’ in this matter: but at least it is easy to be understood, that to deal recklessly with valuable (and national) monuments which, when once gone, can never be replaced by any splendour of modern art, is doing a very sorry service to the State.

You will see by all that I have said on this study of ancient art that I mean by education herein something much wider than the teaching of a definite art in schools of design, and that it must be something that we must do more or less for ourselves: I mean by it a systematic concentration of our thoughts on the matter, a studying of it in all ways, careful and laborious practice of it, and a determination to do nothing but what is known to be good in workmanship and design.

Of course, however, both as an instrument of that study we have been speaking of, as well as of the practice of the arts, all handicraftsmen should be taught to draw very carefully; as indeed all people should be taught drawing who are not physically incapable of learning it: but the art of drawing so taught would not be the art of designing, but only a means towards this end, general capability in dealing with the arts.

For I wish specially to impress this upon you, that designing cannot be taught at all in a school: continued practice will help a man who is naturally a designer, continual notice of nature and of art: no doubt those who have some faculty for designing are still numerous, and they want from a school certain technical teaching, just as they want tools: in these days also, when the best school, the school of successful practice going on around you, is at such a low ebb, they do undoubtedly want instruction in the history of the arts: these two things schools of design can give: but the royal road of a set of rules deduced from a sham science of design, that is itself not a science but another set of rules, will lead nowhere; - or, let us rather say, to beginning again.

As to the kind of drawing that should be taught to men engaged in ornamental work, there is only one best way of teaching drawing, and that is teaching the scholar to draw the human figure: both because the lines of a man's body are much more subtle than anything else, and because you can more surely be found out and set right if you go wrong. I do think that such teaching as this, given to all people who care for it, would help the revival of the arts very much: the habit of discriminating between right and wrong, the sense of pleasure in drawing a good line, would really, I think, be education in the due sense of the word for all such people as had the germs of invention in them; yet as aforesaid, in this age of the world it would be mere affectation to pretend to shut one's eyes to the art of past ages: that also we must study. If other circumstances, social and economical, do not stand in our way, that is to say, if the world is not too busy to allow us to have Decorative Arts at all, these two are the direct means by which we shall get them; that is, general cultivation of the powers of the mind, general cultivation of the powers of the eye and hand.

Perhaps that seems to you very commonplace advice and a very roundabout road; nevertheless 'tis a certain one, if by any road you desire to come to the new art, which is my subject to-night: if you do not, and if those germs of invention, which, as I said just now, are no doubt still common enough among men, are left neglected and undeveloped, the laws of Nature will assert themselves in this as in other matters, and the faculty of design itself will gradually fade from the race of man. Sirs, shall we approach nearer to perfection by casting away so large a part of that intelligence which makes us men?

And now before I make an end, I want to call your attention to certain things, that, owing to our neglect of the arts for other business, bar that good road to us and are such an hindrance, that, till they are dealt with, it is hard even to make a beginning of our endeavour. And if my talk should seem to grow too serious for our subject, as indeed I think it cannot do, I beg you to remember what I said earlier, of how the arts all hang together. Now there is one art of which the old architect of Edward III's time was thinking - he who founded New College at Oxford, I mean - when he took this for his motto: ‘Manners maketh man’: he meant by manners the art of morals, the art of living worthily, and like a man. I must needs claim this art also as dealing with my subject.

There is a great deal of sham work in the world, hurtful to the buyer, more hurtful to the seller, if he only knew it, most hurtful to the maker: how good a foundation it would be towards getting good Decorative Art, that is ornamental workmanship, if we craftsmen were to resolve to turn out nothing but excellent workmanship in all things, instead of having, as we too often have now, a very low average standard of work, which we often fall below.

I do not blame either one class or another in this matter, I blame all: to set aside our own class of handicraftsmen, of whose shortcomings you and I know so much that we need talk no more about it, I know that the public in general are set on having things cheap, being so ignorant that they do not know when they get them nasty also; so ignorant that they neither know nor care whether they give a man his due: I know that the manufacturers (so called) are so set on carrying out competition to its utmost, competition of cheapness, not of excellence, that they meet the bargain-hunters half way, and cheerfully furnish them with nasty wares at the cheap rate they are asked for, by means of what can be called by no prettier name than fraud. England has of late been too much busied with the counting-house and not enough with the workshop: with the result that the counting-house at the present moment is rather barren of orders.

I say all classes are to blame in this matter, but also I say that the remedy lies with the handicraftsmen, who are not ignorant of these things like the public, and who have no call to be greedy and isolated like the manufacturers or middlemen; the duty and honour of educating the public lies with them, and they have in them the seeds of order and organization which make that duty the easier.

When will they see to this and help to make men of us all by insisting on this most weighty piece of manners; so that we may adorn life with the pleasure of cheerfully buying goods at their due price; with the pleasure of selling goods that we could be proud of both for fair price and fair workmanship: with the pleasure of working soundly and without haste at making goods that we could be proud of? - much the greatest pleasure of the three is that last, such a pleasure as, I think, the world has none like it.

You must not say that this piece of manners lies out of my subject: it is essentially a part of it and most important for I am bidding you learn to be artists, if art is not to come to an end amongst us: and what is an artist but a workman who is determined that, whatever else happens, his work shall be excellent? or, to put it in another way: the decoration of workmanship, what is it but the expression of man's pleasure in successful labour? But what pleasure can there be in bad work, in unsuccessful labour; why should we decorate that? and how can we bear to be always unsuccessful in our labour?

As greed of unfair gain, wanting to be paid for what we have not earned, cumbers our path with this tangle of bad work, of sham work, so the heaped-up money which this greed has brought us (for greed will have its way, like all other strong passions), this money, I say, gathered into heaps little and big, with all the false distinction which so unhappily it yet commands amongst us, has raised up against the arts a barrier of the love of luxury and show, which is of all obvious hindrances the worst to overpass: the highest and most cultivated classes are not free from the vulgarity of it, the lower are not free from its pretence. I beg you to remember both as a remedy against this, and as explaining exactly what I mean, that nothing can be a work of art which is not useful; that is to say, which does not minister to the body when well under command of the mind, or which does not amuse, soothe, or elevate the mind in a healthy state. What tons upon tons of unutterable rubbish pretending to be works of art in some degree would this maxim clear out of our London houses, if it were understood and acted upon! To my mind it is only here and there (out of the kitchen) that you can find in a well-to-do house things that are of any use at all: as a rule all the decoration (so called) that has got there is there for the sake of show, not because anybody likes it. I repeat, this stupidity goes through all classes of society: the silk curtains in my Lord's drawing-room are no more a matter of art to him than the powder in his footman's hair; the kitchen in a country farmhouse is most commonly a pleasant and homelike place, the parlour dreary and useless.

Simplicity of life, begetting simplicity of taste, that is, a love for sweet and lofty things, is of all matters most necessary for the birth of the new and better art we crave for; simplicity everywhere, in the palace as well as in the cottage.

Still more is this necessary, cleanliness and decency everywhere, in the cottage as well as in the palace: the lack of that is a serious piece of manners for us to correct: that lack and all the inequalities of life, and the heaped-up thoughtlessness and disorder of so many centuries that cause it: and as yet it is only a very few men who have begun to think about a remedy for it in its widest range: even in its narrower aspect, in the defacements of our big towns by all that commerce brings with it, who heeds it? who tries to control their squalor and hideousness? there is nothing but thoughtlessness and recklessness in the matter: the helplessness of people who don't live long enough to do a thing themselves, and have not manliness and foresight enough to begin the work, and pass it on to those that shall come after them.

Is money to be gathered? cut down the pleasant trees among the houses, pull down ancient and venerable buildings for the money that a few square yards of London dirt will fetch; blacken rivers, hide the sun and poison the air with smoke and worse, and it's nobody's business to see to it or mend it: that is all that modern commerce, the counting-house forgetful of the workship, will do for us herein.

And Science - we have loved her well, and followed her diligently, what will she do? I fear she is so much in the pay of the counting-house, the counting-house and the drill-sergeant, that she is too busy, and will for the present do nothing. Yet there are matters which I should have thought easy for her; say for example teaching Manchester how to consume its own smoke, or Leeds how to get rid of its superfluous black dye without turning it into the river, which would be as much worth her attention as the production of the heaviest of heavy black silks, or the biggest of useless guns. Anyhow, however it be done, unless people care about carrying on their business without making the world hideous, how can they care about Art? I know it will cost much both of time and money to better these things even a little; but I do not see how these can be better spent than in making life cheerful and honourable for others and for ourselves; and the gain of good life to the country at large that would result from men seriously setting about the bettering of the decency of our big towns would be priceless, even if nothing specially good befell the arts in consequence: I do not know that it would; but I should begin to think matters hopeful if men turned their attention to such things, and I repeat that, unless they do so, we can scarcely even begin with any hope our endeavours for the bettering of the arts.

Unless something or other is done to give all men some pleasure for the eyes and rest for the mind in the aspect of their own and their neighbours' houses, until the contrast is less disgraceful between the fields where beasts live and the streets where men live, I suppose that the practice of the arts must be mainly kept in the hands of a few highly cultivated men, who can go often to beautiful places, whose education enables them, in the contemplation of the past glories of the world, to shut out from their view the everyday squalors that the most of men move in. Sirs, I believe that art has such sympathy with cheerful freedom, open-heartedness and reality, so much she sickens under selfishness and luxury, that she will not live thus isolated and exclusive. I will go further than this and say that on such terms I do not wish her to live. I protest that it would be a shame to an honest artist to enjoy what he had huddled up to himself of such art, as it would be for a rich man to sit and eat dainty food amongst starving soldiers in a beleaguered fort.

I do not want art for a few, any more than education for a few, or freedom for a few.

No, rather than art should live this poor thin life among a few exceptional men, despising those beneath them for an ignorance for which they themselves are responsible, for a brutality that they will not struggle with, - rather than this, I would that the world should indeed sweep away all art for awhile, as I said before I thought it possible she might do; rather than the wheat should rot in the miser's granary, I would that the earth had it, that it might yet have a chance to quicken in the dark.

I have a sort of faith, though, that this clearing away of all art will not happen, that men will get wiser, as well as more learned; that many of the intricacies of life, on which we now pride ourselves more than enough, partly because they are new, partly because they have come with the gain of better things, will be cast aside as having played their part, and being useful no longer. I hope that we shall have leisure from war, - war commercial, as well as war of the bullet and the bayonet; leisure from the knowledge that darkens counsel; leisure above all from the greed of money, and the craving for that overwhelming distinction that money now brings: I believe that as we have even now partly achieved LIBERTY, so we shall one day achieve EQUALITY, which, and which only, means FRATERNITY, and so have leisure from poverty and all its griping, sordid cares.

Then having leisure from all these things, amidst renewed simplicity of life we shall have leisure to think about our work, that faithful daily companion, which no man any longer will venture to call the Curse of labour: for surely then we shall be happy in it, each in his place, no man grudging at another; no one bidden to be any man's servant, every one scorning to be any man's master: men will then assuredly be happy in their work, and that happiness will assuredly bring forth decorative, noble,popular art.

That art will make our streets as beautiful as the woods, as elevating as the mountain-sides: it will be a pleasure and a rest, and not a weight upon the spirits to come from the open country into a town; every man's house will be fair and decent, soothing to his mind and helpful to his work: all the works of man that we live amongst and handle will be in harmony with nature, will be reasonable and beautiful: yet all will be simple and inspiriting, not childish nor enervating; for as nothing of beauty and splendour that man's mind and hand may compass shall be wanting from our public buildings, so in no private dwelling will there be any signs of waste, pomp, or insolence, and every man will have his share of the best.

It is a dream, you may say, of what has never been and never will be; true, it has never been, and therefore, since the world is alive and moving yet, my hope is the greater that it one day will be: true, it is a dream; but dreams have before now come about of things so good and necessary to us, that we scarcely think of them more than of the daylight, though once people had to live without them, without even the hope of them.

Anyhow, dream as it is, I pray you to pardon my setting it before you, for it lies at the bottom of all my work in the Decorative Arts, nor will it ever be out of my thoughts: and I am here with you tonight to ask you to help me in realizing this dream, this hope.

Lecture given to the Trades Guild of Learning,

London 1877, under the title ‘The Decorative Arts’

How I Became a Socialist

I am asked by the Editor to give some sort of a history of the above conversion, and I feel that it may be of some use to do so, if my readers will look upon me as a type of a certain group of people, but not so easy to do clearly, briefly and truly. Let me, however, try. But first, I will say what I mean by being a Socialist, since I am told that the word no longer expresses definitely and with certainty what it did ten years ago. Well, what I mean by Socialism is a condition of society in which there should be neither rich nor poor, neither master nor master's man, neither idle nor overworked, neither brain-sick brain workers nor heart-sick hand workers, in a word, in which all men would be living in equality of condition, and would manage their affairs unwastefully, and with the full consciousness that harm to one would mean harm to all - the realization at last of the meaning of the word COMMONWEALTH.

Now this view of Socialism which I hold to-day, and hope to die holding, is what I began with; I had no transitional period, unless you may call such a brief period of political radicalism during which I saw my ideal clear enough, but had no hope of any realization of it. That came to an end some months before I joined the (then) Democratic Federation, and the meaning of my joining that body was that I had conceived a hope of the realization of my ideal. If you ask me how much of a hope, or what I thought we Socialists then living and working would accomplish towards it, or when there would be effected any change in the face of society, I must say, I do not know. I can only say that I did not measure my hope, nor the joy that it brought me at the time. For the rest, when I took that step I was blankly ignorant of economics; I had never so much as opened Adam Smith, or heard of Ricardo, or of Karl Marx. Oddly enough, I had read some of Mill, to wit, those posthumous papers of his (published, was it in the Westminster Review or the Fortnightly?) in which he attacks Socialism in its Fourierist guise. In those papers he put the arguments, as far as they go, clearly and honestly, and the result, so far as I was concerned, was to convince me that Socialism was a necessary change, and that it was possible to bring it about in our own days. Those papers put the finishing touch to my conversion to Socialism. Well, having joined a Socialist body (for the Federation soon became definitely Socialist), I put some conscience into trying to learn the economical side of Socialism, and even tackled Marx, though I must confess that, whereas I thoroughly enjoyed the historical part of Capital, I suffered agonies of confusion of the brain over reading the pure economics of that great work. Anyhow, I read what I could, and will hope that some information stuck to me from my reading; but more, I must think, from continuous conversation with such friends as Bax and Hyndman and Scheu, and the brisk course of propaganda meetings which were going on at the time, and in which I took my share. Such finish to what of education in practical Socialism as I am capable of I received afterwards from some of my Anarchist friends, from whom I learned, quite against their intention, that Anarchism was impossible, much as I learned from Mill against his intention that Socialism was necessary.

But in this telling how I fell into practical Socialism I have begun, as I perceive, in the middle, for in my position of a well-to-do man, not suffering from the disabilities which oppress a working man at every step, I feel that I might never have been drawn into the practical side of the question if an ideal had not forced me to seek towards it. For politics as politics, i.e., not regarded as a necessary if cumbersome and disgustful means to an end, would never have attracted me, nor when I had become conscious of the wrongs of society as it now is, and the oppression of poor people, could I have ever believed in the possibility of a partial setting right of those wrongs. In other words, I could never have been such a fool as to believe in the happy and ‘respectable’ poor.

If, therefore, my ideal forced me to look for practical Socialism, what was it that forced me to conceive of an ideal? Now, here comes in what I said (in this paper) of my being a type of a certain group of mind.

Before the uprising of modern Socialism almost all intelligent people either were, or professed themselves to be, quite contented with the civilization of this century. Again, almost all of these really were thus contented, and saw nothing to do but to perfect the said civilization by getting rid of a few ridiculous survivals of the barbarous ages. To be short, this was the Whig frame of mind, natural to the modern prosperous middle-class men, who, in fact, as far as mechanical progress is concerned, have nothing to ask for, if only Socialism would leave them alone to enjoy their plentiful style.

But besides these contented ones there were others who were not really contented, but had a vague sentiment of repulsion to the triumph of civilization, but were coerced into silence by the measureless power of Whiggery. Lastly, there were a few who were in open rebellion against the said Whiggery - a few, say two, Carlyle and Ruskin. The latter, before my days of practical Socialism, was my master towards the ideal aforesaid, and, looking backward, I cannot help saying, by the way, how deadly dull the world would have been twenty years ago but for Ruskin! It was through him that I learned to give form to my discontent, which I must say was not by any means vague. Apart from the desire to produce beautiful things, the leading passion of my life has been and is hatred of modern civilization. What shall I say of it now, when the words are put into my mouth, my hope of its destruction - what shall I say of its supplanting by Socialism?

What shall I say concerning its mastery of and its waste of mechanical power, its commonwealth so poor, its enemies of the commonwealth so rich, its stupendous organization - for the misery of life! Its contempt of simple pleasures which everyone could enjoy but for its folly? Its eyeless vulgarity which has destroyed art, the one certain solace of labour? All this I felt then as now, but I did not know why it was so. The hope of the past times was gone, the struggles of mankind for many ages had produced nothing but this sordid, aimless, ugly confusion; the immediate future seemed to me likely to intensify all the present evils by sweeping away the last survivals of the days before the dull squalor of civilization had settled down on the world. This was a bad look-out indeed, and, if I may mention myself as a personality and not as a mere type, especially so to a man of my disposition, careless of metaphysics and religion, as well as of scientific analysis, but with a deep love of the earth and the life on it, and a passion for the history of the past of mankind. Think of it! Was it all to end in a counting-house on the top of a cinder-heap, with Podsnap's drawing-room in the offing, and a Whig committee dealing out champagne to the rich and margarine to the poor in such convenient proportions as would make all men contented together, though the pleasure of the eyes was gone from the world, and the place of Homer was to be taken by Huxley? Yet, believe me, in my heart, when I really forced myself to look towards the future, that is what I saw in it, and, as far as I could tell, scarce anyone seemed to think it worth while to struggle against such a consummation of civilization. So there I was in for a fine pessimistic end of life, if it had not somehow dawned on me that amidst all this filth of civilization the seeds of a great change, what we others call Social-Revolution, were beginning to germinate. The whole face of things was changed to me by that discovery, and all I had to do then in order to become a Socialist was to hook myself on to the practical movement, which, as before said, I have tried to do as well as I could.

To sum up, then, the study of history and the love and practice of art forced me into a hatred of the civilization which, if things were to stop as they are, would turn history into inconsequent nonsense, and make art a collection of the curiosities of the past which would have no serious relation to the life of the present.

But the consciousness of revolution stirring amidst our hateful modern society prevented me, luckier than many others of artistic perceptions, from crystallizing into a mere railer against ‘progress’ on the one hand, and on the other from wasting time and energy in any of the numerous schemes by which the quasi-artistic of the middle classes hope to make art grow when it has no longer any root, and thus I became a practical Socialist.

A last word or two. Perhaps some of our friends will say, what have we to do with these matters of history and art? We want by means of Social-Democracy to win a decent livelihood, we want in some sort to live, and that at once. Surely any one who professes to think that the question of art and cultivation must go before that of the knife and fork (and there are some who do propose that) does not understand what art means, or how that its roots must have a soil of a thriving and unanxious life. Yet it must be remembered that civilization has reduced the workman to such a skinny and pitiful existence, that he scarcely knows how to frame a desire for any life much better than that which he now endures perforce. It is the province of art to set the true ideal of a full and reasonable life before him, a life to which the perception and creation of beauty, the enjoyment of real pleasure that is, shall be felt to be as necessary to man as his daily bread, and that no man, and no set of men, can be deprived of this except by mere opposition, which should be resisted to the utmost.

目录

观念——《伟大的思想》代序

译者导读

一种荒谬的推理

荒谬的人

荒谬的创造

西西弗斯神话

附录

An Absurd Reasoning

The Absurd Man

Absurd Creation

The Myth Of Sisyphus

Appendix

返回总目录

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

西西弗斯神话：英汉对照/（法）加缪著；张清，刘凌飞译．—北京：中译出版社，2012. 9

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3334-6

Ⅰ.①西… Ⅱ.①加… ②张… ③刘… Ⅲ.①英语—汉语—对照读物 ②随笔—作品集—法国—现代　Ⅳ.①H319.4:I

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2012）第104196号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2012-7267号）

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Le Mythe de Sisyphe first published 1942

This translation first published by Hamish Hamilton 1955

Published in Penguin Books 1975

This edition published 2005

Translation copyright 1955 by Justin O’Brien

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观念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin’s Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. e books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world—particularly students. e launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling—to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine’s Common Sense or John Ruskin’s On Art and Life was first published—where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages—there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book’s reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear—most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. e sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca—few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer—our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

阿尔贝·加缪（Albert Camus, 1913-1960），法国作家、记者、哲学家，出生于法属阿尔及利亚的蒙多维。幼年丧父，由做女佣的母亲抚养成人，通过半工半读取得哲学学士学位。曾加入法国共产党，后被驱逐出党。1960年1月4日，加缪在法国桑斯附近遇车祸身亡。

作为记者，加缪曾在多家报社发表过文章。加缪曾创办剧团，写过剧本，也做过演员，主要剧本有《误会》（1944）、《戒严》（1948）和《正义》（1949）等。此外，加缪写了很多著名的小说，其成名作《局外人》（1942）成为荒诞小说的代表作，长篇小说《鼠疫》（1947）曾获法国批评奖。1957年，加缪被授予诺贝尔文学奖。

加缪对哲学的首要贡献当属其关于荒谬的思想。他将荒谬视为我们对世界的“明晰性”和“意义”的欲望与无法满足这种欲望的状况相互作用的结果。他的思想集中表现于《西西弗斯神话》。1951年加缪发表哲学论文《反抗者》，开始了与萨特等存在主义者长达一年的论战，直到与萨特决裂。人们这才发现，一直被看作存在主义者的加缪原来是荒诞哲学及文学的代表人物。

《西西弗斯神话》是加缪的一部哲学论文集，1942年出版。加缪在书中阐释了自己的荒谬哲学，即人在面对一个没有上帝以及永恒的真理或价值的世界时对意义、统一性以及明晰性的无益探求。在书的一开始，加缪就提出了一个引人入胜的命题：“真正严肃的哲学问题只有一个，那就是自杀。”书中围绕这一问题对荒谬进行了详细阐述，并列举了几类荒谬的生活。最后一章对人们生活的荒谬性与反复推石头上山的西西弗斯的状况进行了比较。在书的最后，作者总结性地说：“迈向高处的挣扎足够填充一个人的心灵。人们应当想象西西弗斯是快乐的。”

《西西弗斯神话》出版时加缪29岁，而这不到30年的人生历程对于加缪来说无疑是坎坷的：幼年丧父，在贫民区摸爬滚打地长大，在他人的资助与自己的努力下上了大学，又不幸染上肺结核，尝遍人间疾苦。艰辛的人生经历促使他不断进行命运的思索，探讨人生命题。和许多有责任感的学者一样，加缪关心时世，政治立场鲜明，是一位有态度的创作者。在第二次世界大战中，加缪在《阿尔及利亚报》任记者。反对绥靖政策的他因触犯当局而不得已回到法国。后又从《巴黎晚报》离开，迁居奥兰，也就是在那里他完成了本书的创作。

加缪曾在《笔记Ⅱ》（1945）中写道：“为什么我是一个艺术家而不是哲学家？因为我是根据词而不是概念来思维的。”研读《西西弗斯神话》，读者能清楚地意识到这一点，对于译者而言体会则更深刻。文章字里行间传达的是至诚而实在的哲思，作者绝不会拿各种概念性的东西把读者引入虚幻的意境，有的只是诚恳的说理。正基于此，译者在传译的过程中不敢也不忍轻易舍一词一字，生怕断了作者的“思维”。因此，译文在保证思想流畅、表达准确的基础上，用心通过一字一词努力再现这位慎思的哲人诚挚的“思维”。

一种荒谬的推理

以下章节所述是在这个时代随处可见的一种荒谬的细腻情感，而不是我们这个时代（严格地说）尚未知晓的一种荒谬哲学。因此本书在一开始就指出书中哪些内容得益于某些当代思想家，是完全合理的。我丝毫没有掩盖这一点的意思，所以你会发现本书自始至终一直在引用与评论这些内容。

但同时注意到这一点也是有益的，那就是迄今已被定论的荒谬在本书则被当作一个出发点。从这个意义上讲，或许可以说，我的论述中存在暂时性的东西：人们无法对其立场做出预判断。你只能在书中发现对一种纯粹的思维病态的描写。诸如形而上学或者信仰，片刻也没有出现过，这就是本书的局限与仅有的偏见。作此澄清是出于某些个人的经历。

荒谬与自杀

真正严肃的哲学问题只有一个，那就是自杀。

判断生活是否有价值，无异于回答最基本的哲学问题。其他一切问题——诸如世界是否有三个维度，思想有九个还是十二个范畴——都在其次。这些不过是游戏；人们首先要做的是回答问题。倘若真如尼采所称，哲学家为赢得重视就必须以身作则，那么你就能体会到回答那一问题的重要性了，因为这一回答是先于实际行动的。这些都是可以为心灵所感知的事实，却也需要仔细的研究才能被明白无误地理解。

我自问如何判断此问题急迫于彼问题，答案是人们可以从问题所牵涉的行动入手。我从未见过谁是为实体论问题而死的。伽利略曾坚持一条非常重要的科学真理，但当这条真理危及自己的生命时，他毅然决然地放弃了它。从某种意义上说，他的做法正确。[1]为这一真理而遭受火刑柱的惩罚是不值得的。从深层次而言，地球和太阳哪个围绕哪个转是无关紧要的。说实话，这是一个徒劳无获的问题。另一方面，我又看见很多人因为觉得生活毫无价值而死去。我还看见，有的人为了那些赋予他们生存意义的想法或幻想而荒唐地结束了生命。（这一所谓的生存理由同样也是一个绝佳的死亡动机。）因而我得出结论：生活的意义是所有问题中最急迫的。那么如何回答这一问题呢？对于一切基本的问题（我指的是构成死亡威胁的问题，或是激发生活热情的问题），或许只有两种思考方式，一种是帕里斯[2]的方式，一种是堂·吉诃德[3]的方式。唯有明摆着的事实并恰如其分地加上抒情的表达方式，才能让我们同时保持激情与清醒。对于一个既如此卑微又如此富于情感的主题，人们可以发现，学术性的、经典的逻辑论证法必须让步于一种更加朴素的思想立场，这种立场既出自人之常情，又富有同情心理。

自杀从来都是被作为一种社会现象来研究的，而我们的研究恰恰相反，我们在一开始关注的就是个体思想与自杀之间的关系。这种行为正如一件伟大的艺术作品，在心灵的静默中孕育，行为者本身并没有意识到。而某个晚上，他却扣动了扳机，或是纵身一跃。我曾听说过一个公寓经理自杀的例子。五年前他失去了自己的女儿，打那时起整个人就变了很多，而这一变故“侵蚀”着他。用这个词来形容再准确不过了。开始思考也就开始了被侵蚀。社会与这种开始没什么必然联系，问题出在人们心里，那才是应该探究的地方。这一死亡游戏是从清醒地面对生活体验过渡到逃离光明，人们须追踪并且理解这种游戏。

自杀有很多理由，总的来说，最显而易见的并非最具有杀伤力。自杀很少是由反思引起的（但也不能排除）。什么引发了危机，几乎总无法证实。报纸常会说是“内心的悲恸”，或是“不治之症”。这些解释是说得过去的。但是人们应该弄清楚，出事那天是不是有个朋友用一种冷漠的语调和这个绝望的人说话。如果有，那么这个朋友就是有罪的。因为这足以触发仍在酝酿中的怨恨与烦恼。[4]

然而，如果难以确定思想上决定自杀的微妙步骤——那一准确时刻，那么从这一行为本身推知它带来的后果则要容易得多。从某种意义上说，如在情节剧中一样，自杀等于是自白，承认生活对你来说已无法承受，抑或你不理解生活。但是，我们也不要把这些类比扯得太远，还是要回到日常话语中来，那么承认的就只是“不值得这么费力”地生活。诚然，生活从来都不容易。你不断接收生存发出的指令，并以某种姿态回应，回应的原因有很多，其中首要原因就是习惯。自愿结束生命意味着你已意识到，甚至是本能地意识到这种习惯的荒谬性，意识到找不到任何深刻的理由去生活，发现每天的忙忙碌碌毫无意义，遭受痛苦亦无益处。

那种无法确定的感情夺去了生活中必要的精神昏睡，那么这种感情究竟是什么呢？世界即使需要用糟糕的理由来阐释，对于人来说也是熟悉的。相反，世界如果突然间失去了幻想与光明，人就会觉得自己是陌路人。这种被流放的感觉是无可救药的，因为他被剥夺了对失去家园的记忆和对应许之乡的盼望。人与生活的这种分离，如同演员与舞台的分离一样，可以说正是荒谬感。如果那些有轻生念头的人都是健康人，那么无须多加解释人们就会发现，这种感情与对死的渴望之间有一种直接的关系。

本书的主旨就是表现荒谬与自杀之间的这种关系，恰恰涉及以自杀来解决荒谬的切实手段。原则上可以肯定，对于一个诚实的人来说，对他信以为真的东西应当付诸行动。对存在的荒谬性的笃信必然要支配人的行为。人们可以理所当然地发出疑问——清楚明白而非故作哀伤地，如此重要的一条结论会不会要求人们尽快摆脱一种难以理解的环境呢。当然，我指的是想达到自身协调的人们。

表达得清楚一点，这一问题就显得既简单又不好解决。如果认为简单问题的答案也很简单，清晰明了带来的必是清晰明了，那就大错特错了。若先验地颠倒问题的各项，就如人是自杀还是不自杀的问题一样，只有两种哲理结果：是或不是，这就显得过于简单了。但是应当考虑到那些不停发问而不作定论的人。这里我完全没有讽刺的意味：这些人占了大多数。我还注意到，有些人嘴上说“不”，行为表现却好像他们想的是“是”。事实上，根据尼采[5]的标准，他们会以这种或那种方式说“是”。另一方面，那些自杀的人常常对生活的意义十分确信。这些矛盾屡见不鲜。甚至可以说，这些矛盾从来没有如此鲜明过，在这一点上，逻辑性变得十分可贵。把哲学理论与这些理论信仰者的行为加以比较，是再平常不过的了。但是必须指出，在拒绝赋予生活以意义的人中，除了文学作品中的人物基里洛夫[6]，传奇人物贝尔格里诺斯[7]和善于假说的朱尔斯·勒奎尔，没有一个人把否定逻辑推理发展到否定生活。叔本华[8]曾坐在一张华丽的桌子旁大赞自杀，他也因此常被拿来做笑柄。这没有什么可笑的。不把悲剧当回事没有那么可悲，但是却可以用来判断一个人。

面对这种矛盾与令人费解之事，我们还一定要得出结论说，一个人对生活的看法与他逃离生活的做法之间没有关系吗？我们不要在这方面夸大其词。在一个人与自己生活的关系中，有些东西比全世界的苦难加起来都要强大。身体的判断与心理的判断不相上下，而身体面对毁灭时会畏缩不前。我们先养成生活的习惯，然后才养成思考的习惯。在每天都催人走向死亡的竞赛中，身体保持着绝对的领先地位。简言之，这种矛盾的本质在于我所说的逃避行为，因为按照帕斯卡的说法，它既低于又高于消遣行为。逃避是始终不变的游戏。典型的逃避——对死亡的躲闪，是本书的第三个主题，那就是希望。这是对自己“应得”的另一种生活的希望，或者说是对那些不是为生活本身而生活的人的欺骗，这种生活的伟大目标将超越生活，使生活得到升华，赋予生活以意义，然后背叛生活。

一切事物都会造成混乱。至此，人们玩弄词句并且假装相信，拒绝赋予生活以意义必然得出生活没有价值的结论，而这些努力并没有白费。事实上，在这两种判断之间没有必然的共同标准。人们要做的只是不要受先前指出的混乱、分离与前后不一的误导，必须将一切置之不理，直入实际问题。人们自杀是因为生活没有价值，这确实是一个真理——只是因为不言自明而显得不甚成熟。但是这种对生存的侵犯，这种让生活深陷其中的断然否定是由生活无意义这一事实造成的吗？生活的荒谬性要求人们借助希望或者自杀来逃离生活吗？——这正是在将其他一切置之不理时必须阐明、追问以及解释的东西。这种“荒谬”操控了死亡吗？在所有思想方法与一切不偏不倚的心理活动之外，必须优先考虑这一问题。“客观”的心理总是将意义、矛盾与心理学引入所有问题，但这些因素在这种探索与热情中不占有任何位置。需要的只是一个不公正的思想，换句话说就是逻辑思想。这并非易事。做事合乎逻辑常很容易，但要坚持到痛苦的最后则几乎是不可能的。因此，自杀的人通常顺由自己的情感变化走到终点。对死亡的思考让我借机提出唯一令我感兴趣的问题：至死不变的逻辑是否存在？我无从知晓，只有借助证据进行探寻——这里我指出了这种推理的源头，在探寻中不能有感情的冲动。这就是我所称的荒谬的推理。许多人已经开始这一探索，不知他们是否还在坚持。

卡尔·雅斯培[9]指出，世界不可能形成一个整体，当他大声疾呼“这样的限制让我找到自己，于是我不能再拿自己正表达的一个客观观点做挡箭牌，于是不管是我自己还是他人的存在都不再是我的对象”时，他其实是在继很多人之后又提到了那些无水的沙漠，在那里思想已山穷水尽。继很多人之后，没错，但是他们曾经多少渴望走出荒漠啊！许多人，即使是一些最卑微的人，都到达了那最后的十字路口，而思想在那里犹豫不决了。然后他们便放弃了自己最宝贵的东西，他们的生命。其他人，那些精神上的贵族，同样放弃了，只是他们采取了思想的自杀这种最纯粹的反叛。其实，真正的努力应该是尽可能待在原地，仔细考查那些边远地区的奇花异草。在这场非人性的表演中，荒谬、希望与死亡展开了对话，而坚持与明智则是拥有特权的观众。思想于是可以先分析这支灵巧的入门舞蹈的舞者们，然后加以阐释并再亲自体验一次。

荒谬的墙

正如伟大的作品一样，深邃的感情总是静水流深。心灵中规律性的冲动与排斥也同样发生在习惯性的做与想中，并且在心灵本身并不知情的诸多后果中重新上演。伟大的感情拥有自己的宇宙，或宏伟壮观，或惨不忍睹。这些感情用自己的热情点亮一个专属于自己的世界，并在这个世界里找到适合自己的基本立场。有忌妒的宇宙、利欲的宇宙、自私的宇宙，也有慷慨大度的宇宙。一个宇宙，换句话说也就是一种形而上学、一种思想立场。适合于这种已然自立门派的感情的，甚至会更适合于那种情感，它们像为我们创造美好、由荒谬所激起的东西一样基本不可预料，含混而又明确，遥远而又“存在”。

在任何一个街角，荒谬的感情都可能正面直击任何一个人。实际上，赤裸裸的荒谬是让人费神的，它发出光亮，却不甚耀眼，难以捉摸，但这一难题又值得人思索。事实上，某个人可能永远都会不为人所知，在他身上有某种不能克服的东西我们无从发现。然而在现实情况中，我通过人们的行为、其全部活动，以及他们给生活带来的影响来认识和辨认他们。同样，那些不合理性的感情没有为分析创造任何着脚点，对于它们我能够在现实中加以定义与领悟，方法就是收集他们在思维领域的影响，把握并记录它们的所有面貌特征，描画属于它们的宇宙。可以肯定的是，即使一个演员我见过上百次，显然我也不会因此多了解他一点。但是如果我总结他所演绎的英雄人物，说我在列数他所演的第一百个角色后对他有了更深的了解，这听起来还像是真的。这一浅显的悖论也是一则寓言，其中寓有深义。它倡导人们用伪装，同样也用发自内心的冲动来定义自己。因此，有一种更为低调的感情，处于内心深处，难以接近，却又通过所包含的行动，以及所表现的思想立场而部分地展现出来。我显然是在用这种方式定义一种方法，而同样明显的是这是一种分析方法，而非知识方法。因为方法就意味着形而上学；形而上学则会无意中揭示一些往往自称毫不知情的结论。与此相类似的是，一本书最后几页的内容已经包含在头几页中了。这样一种联系是不可避免的。这里定义的方法承认这种观点——不可能有全然真实的认识。只有表象可以被效仿，基本态度能被人感知。

或许我们可以在各不相同却又紧密相联的智力世界、生活艺术世界，或单纯艺术世界超越那种难以捉摸的荒谬感情。荒谬性的思潮是在初始阶段，结尾是那荒谬的宇宙，还有那种思想态度，它用自己真实的色彩点亮这个世界，展示出那种态度在这荒谬的宇宙中所辨识出的无可改变的特权面貌。

一切伟大的行动与一切伟大的思想都有一个荒唐的开端。伟大的作品常常诞生于某个街角或某个餐厅的旋转门里，荒谬性也不例外。荒谬的世界更是从那种卑微的出身产生出了高贵。在某些情况下，一个人被问及他的思想品质时，答道：“没什么品质”，那他可能是在伪装。那些受人喜爱的人非常了解这一点。但是如果回答是真心的，如果此回答表现了特异的心理状态，此时无声就是雄辩，日常活动的链条就被打破了，而心灵却搜寻不到能把它再联结起来的环节，那么可以说这就是荒谬性发出的最早信号。

碰巧舞台背景塌了。起床、乘电车，在办公室或工厂待四个钟头，吃饭、乘电车、工作四个钟头、吃饭、睡觉，周一、周二、周三、周四、周五、周六，都遵循着同样的节奏——大部分时候沿着这条路走是很容易的。但是有一天，“为什么”出现了。于是“就开始了”——这是至关重要的。厌倦来自一种机械生活的结束，但同时，它也激发了意识的冲动。它唤醒了意识，并驱动着随后的事物，而随后便是逐渐回复那根链条，或者说这就是彻底的觉醒。当完全觉醒后，结果也如期而至：自杀或者恢复。厌倦本身就有一些令人生厌的东西。在此，我必须给出我的结论：厌倦是件好事。因为万事始于意识，若不经过意识，任何事情都是无价值的。这些观点没有什么独创之处，却是显而易见的，足够对荒谬性的起源作一粗略回顾。正如海德格尔[10]所言，单纯的“忧虑”乃万事之发端。

同样，在不显山不露水的生活中，每天都是时间带着我们走。但是也经常有那样的片刻，就是我们必须带着时间走。我们指望着未来过活：“明天”、“以后”、“在你走出自己的路之后”、“等你到了一定年龄就懂了”。这些无关紧要的事会带来奇迹，因为这终究是关系到死亡的问题。然而有一天，一个人注意到，或是跟人说，他三十岁了，他是在肯定自己的年轻，但同时他也把自己和时间联系起来，在时间中他占有一席之位。他承认自己站在曲线的某一点上，并意识到必须走到曲线的尽头。他属于时间，而通过控制住自己的恐惧，他才认清了自己最糟糕的敌人。明天，他在期待明天，但是体内的每一个细胞都应该是拒绝明天的。这种肉体的反抗就是荒谬。[11]

降低一个层次，陌生感就会伺机而入：察觉到世界是“密实”的，感觉到一块石头在多大程度上对于我们是陌生而不可思议的，以及自然或某处风景能多么强烈地否定我们。在一切美的内心都有一些非人性的东西，那些山、那柔和的天空、那树木的轮廓在这一刻失去了我们拿来装点它们的虚幻的意义，从此它们变得比失乐园还要遥远。世界最初就有的敌意会穿越几千年的光景来反对我们。转瞬间，我们不再理解这个世界，因为几个世纪以来，我们明白的只是我们事先归于这个世界的形象与设计，因为自此以后，我们不再拥有这项技能。世界变回它本来的样子，从我们手中逃离。那被习惯所掩盖的舞台布景又恢复了原来的面貌，和我们保持一段距离。这就好像是在某段时间里，我们几个月前或几年前曾爱过的一个女人的面孔由熟悉变得陌生起来。我们甚至开始渴望那些突然让我们变得孤身一人的东西，只是这一时机尚未成熟。唯有一事：世界的那种密实与陌生就是荒谬。

人也会隐藏非人性的东西。在某些清醒时刻，其姿态中机械的一面——那种无意义的哑剧，让周围的所有事物都变得愚蠢。一个人正在玻璃隔墙后打电话；你听不到他，只能看到他不可思议的哑剧表演：你在想，这人怎么会存在。面对自己非人性特质时的不适，看到自己的形象时不可估量的落差，这种被当代某作家称作“恶心”[12]的东西，也是荒谬。同样，有时与我们在镜中相会的陌生人，我们在自己照片中发现的那熟悉却又让人恐慌的兄弟，也是荒谬。

最后我要说到死亡以及我们对死亡的态度。关于这一点已有详尽论述，我只要避免引人哀惋即可。然而，每个人似乎都在无人“知晓”的情况下生活，人们永远都会对这一点感到惊讶。这是因为在现实中，人们没有死亡的经历。确切一点说，人们经历过的只是生活中遇到并意识到的东西。这里不妨勉强谈论他人的死亡经历，那只是一种替代物，一种错觉，不会让我们十分信服。这种悲伤的经历是没有说服力的。恐惧实际上来自事件确定无疑的方面。如果时间让我们感到害怕，那是因为它确定了问题，解决办法随之而来。所有关于灵魂的精彩言论都会让其反面得到令人信服的证明，至少在一段时期内如此。灵魂从一巴掌留不下任何痕迹的无生气的躯体中消失了，这一不寻常经历中基础而又具有决定性的那一面即为荒谬感。在这种命运的死亡之光下，其无用性显而易见。在操纵我们处境的残酷的确定性面前，任何一种道德、任何一种努力都无法先验地证明自己的正确性。

我重申：所有这些已不止一次被谈到。我在这里只是想做一个快速的归类，并清楚明白地指出主题。这些主题贯穿于所有文学与哲学中，日常谈话为之提供养分，没有重塑的可能。然而要想随后自问这一基本问题，就有必要对这些事实了然于胸。我还要重申：我对荒谬之发现的兴趣不及对荒谬之后果的兴趣深厚。假如人们确信这些事实，那么会得出什么结论？又要做到什么程度才会不逃避任何事情呢？人们是自愿死亡，还是凡事都抱着希望呢？在此有必要对有关智力的问题预先做一次同样快速的清理归类工作。

思想上要做的第一步就是明辨是非，然而，思想一旦开始自省，首先发现的就会是矛盾，这一点是不言自明的。几个世纪以来，关于这一问题的论述，没有人能比亚里士多德更简洁而明白：“这些观点不攻自破，结果常常被人取笑。因为我们在肯定一切皆真实的同时也肯定了这种论点之反面的真实性，结果也就肯定了自己论题的谬误性（因为反面的论点是不承认它是真实的）。而如果有人说一切皆谬误，这一论点本身就是错的。倘若我们宣称只有我们论点的反面是错误的，或者只有我们的论点不是错误的，我们则是被迫承认了无数真实或错误的判断。因为一个人在表达一种真实论点时宣称它是真实的，同时也承认了以此类推的无限论点。”

这一恶性循环只是系列中的第一环，在这一系列中，自省的思想迷失在令人晕眩的旋转中。正是这些悖论的简单性使它们变得不可克服。不论如何玩弄词藻，操纵逻辑，理解最重要的是一致。思想即使在最复杂详尽的过程中，其最强烈的欲望与人们在面对自己的宇宙时那种无意识的感情也是相似的。这是对熟悉事物的一种坚持，是对明晰性的一种渴望。对一个人来说，理解这个世界就是把它简化为人的状态，为之打上自己的印记。猫的宇宙不会是蚂蚁窝。“一切思想都是拟人化的”，这一不言而喻的真理没有其他含义。同样，旨在理解现实的思想只有把现实简化为思想领域的概念，才能得到满足。如果人们意识到宇宙同自己一样也可以有爱和遭遇，那么人们可能就会顺服了。倘若思想在闪亮的现象之镜中发现种种永恒的关系，既能把现象归纳为单一的原则，又能把它们自身归纳为单一的原则，那么此思想就可被看作一种思维上的愉悦，有福之人的神话不过是对这种愉悦的可笑模仿。那种对统一性的怀恋，那种对绝对性的渴望，阐明了对人类演绎的这出戏剧的基本冲动。这种怀恋的确存在，但并不意味着必须马上满足这种渴望。因为如果我们将分隔欲望与成功的鸿沟填平，我们就是肯定了巴门尼德[13]“一”（不论“一”为何物）的现实，我们就陷入了一种可笑的思想矛盾：这种思想肯定完全统一，并且用这种肯定证明自身的差异以及自称要解决的多样性。这另一个恶性循环足以与我们的希望产生冲突。

这些也是不言而喻的真理。我又要重申：它们本身没有什么有趣之处，有趣之处在它们导致的结果。我知道还有一个自明之理，认为人终有一死。人们可以列数从这一真理推断出极端结论的种种思想。在我们幻想自己知道的与自己真正知道的之间，在实际赞成与假装无知之间，有着常见的差距。这种差距允许我们在生活中保有那种一旦真正投入考验便会颠覆我们整个生活的想法。我们有必要将这种差距作为本书一个不变的参考点。面对思想中这一纠缠不清的矛盾，我们应该完全掌控把我们与自己的创造相分离的裂缝。只要思想在这静止的希望世界里保持沉默，万事都会反映并且安排在这被怀念的统一性中。但是一旦破静为动，这个世界就开始破裂、倒塌：给认识留下无数闪光的碎片。对于重塑这个表面熟悉而平静、能给我们带来心理安宁的世界，我们一定是不抱任何希望的。经过这么多个世纪的探寻，许许多多的思想家选择了放弃，我们非常清楚，我们所有的知识都是这样。除了专业的理性论者，如今人们对真正的知识已感到绝望。假使要书写唯一有意义的人类思想史，那么写的肯定是这些思想产出后接连不断的悔恨史与这些思想的无能史。

对于何人、何物，我可以说：“我知道！”我能感觉到我深藏的内心，我断定它是存在的。我能触摸到这个世界，我同样断定它是存在的。我所有的学识到此为止，余下要做的就是构建。因为如果我试图抓住感到确信的自我，如果我试图对之加以定义并总结，那么它就只能像水一样从我指间流走。我可以勾画出它能表现出来的所有面貌，以及那些归属于它的面貌，那种成长，那种源头，那种热情或那些沉默，那种高贵或那种邪恶。但是诸多面貌无法简单相加，这颗属于我的心对我而言永远都是不可定义的。在我对自身存在的确定性和我试图赋予这种确信的内容之间，存在着不可填充的沟壑，我对自己永远都是陌生的。如同在逻辑学中一样，在心理学中也是只有事实而没有真理。苏格拉底的“认识你自己”，同我们忏悔时的“守德”一样有价值。它们同时揭露了一种对过去的怀恋和一种无知，都是关于伟大主题的乏味游戏，这些游戏只有在严格的相近范围内才是可以被理解的。

树，我知道有嶙峋的表皮；水，我能品尝它的味道。那草木的清香与夜晚的星斗，那身心放松的晚上——我怎能否定这个世界？它的能量与力量我都可以感觉得到。然而世间的所有知识都不能向我保证说，这个世界是我的。你向我描述它，并教我给它分类。你列数它的规则，在我渴求知识时我承认这些规则都是对的。你拆分它的结构，于是我的希望增加了。最后，你教给我说这精彩纷呈、色彩斑斓的寰宇可以被还原为原子，原子又能被还原成电子。所有这一切都不错，我等着你继续说下去。可是你又告诉我有一个看不见的行星系统，电子在万有引力的作用下绕着一个核转动。你描绘了一个图像，为我解释这个世界。这时我发现你已被还原成了诗意：我永远也不会明白。我还有时间气愤吗？你已经改换了理论，于是教给我一切的科学以一个假设告终，那清醒的开创人以比喻收尾，那种不确定性成了一件艺术品。我还有什么必要作这么多努力呢？群山柔和的线条与夜晚之手对我那颗困扰之心的抚摸，教给我更多。我又回到了最初。我认识到如果通过科学我能掌握各种现象，并一一加以列数，我就不能同样地领悟这个世界。当我用手指勾勒出世界的所有起伏后，我就不能再进一步了。而且你给了我一个二选一的题目，选项一是一个可以确定的描述，只是什么也没有教给我；选项二是一些假设，据称可以授予我知识，却都无法确定。我对于自身，对于这个世界都感到陌生，我有的只是在自我肯定后又迅速自我否定的思想。我只有不再去了解、不再去生活才能得到平静，对于征服的欲望遭遇了阻挡它进攻的墙，这是什么情况？有愿望就意味着要引出多个悖论。万事都以这种方式被安排，目的是形成由不经思考、不加用心与选择死亡产生的受荼毒的平静。

思智也以它的方式告诉我这个世界是荒谬的。其对立面——盲目的理性，很可能会宣称一切皆清晰。虽然我一直等待这一点被证明，并且期望它是正确的，但是多少自命不凡的年代后，我从那么多能言善辩之才的身上明白，这是错误的。至少在这一领域，如果我不知，就没有幸福。那一普遍的理性（现实的或是道德的）、那种宿命论、那些解释一切的范畴，足以贻笑大方。它们和精神毫不相干，否定了其将受到束缚的深刻真理，因而在这混沌不清的有限的宇宙中，人的命运承担了它的意义。大批不合理性涌现在他周围，直至他终老。人们业已恢复的洞察力如今变得审慎起来，于是荒谬的感情也变得清晰而明确。我说过这个世界是荒谬的，只是未免操之过急。只能说，这个世界本身是非理性的。而所谓荒谬，就是不合理性遭遇了对清晰性的极度渴望，这清晰性的召唤在人的内心回荡。荒谬同时取决于人和这个世界，它将两者捆绑在一起，正如只有仇恨才能把两物联结在一起一样。这是我在这个无限宇宙的探险之旅中能辨识出的所有。我们在此停顿一下。如果我承认这种决定我与生活之间关系的荒谬性，如果我在观赏这个世界的风景时充满惆怅与感伤，在追逐科学的过程中被迫变得头脑清晰，那么为了那些确定性我就必须牺牲一切，就必须准确地看待它们以保持这种确定性。最重要的是，我必须使我的行为与之相适应，并且追踪其造成的影响。我指的是体面。但是在此之前我想知道思想能否在那些荒漠中生存。

我知道思想至少已进入了那些荒漠，在那里它找到了自己的面包，在那里它意识到之前一直是从幻象中汲取营养，证明了人类思考中最亟待解决的几个主题。

荒谬从它被承认的那一刻起，便成为一种强烈的感情，且是最折磨人的那种。但是不管人们能否和自己诸多强烈感情共处，能否接受这些感情的规则，这规则都可能在感情爆发的同时烧毁心灵，这便是全部问题所在，但还不是我们马上要谈的问题。它属于这种经历的中心问题，还有时间再回到这一问题上。我们还是先来辨认一下那些源自荒漠的主题与冲动吧，列数这些因素便足够了，它们如今已广为人知。过去，总会有人去捍卫非理性的权利。有一种思想被冠以屈辱的标签，这种传统一直都有。对理性主义的批评不绝于耳，似乎也没有必要再发起一次。那些自相矛盾的体系力争绊倒理性，似乎理性真的一直遥遥领先，而这些体系的重建便是我们的时代标志。但与其说这是理性效力的一个证明，不如说是其希望的强烈程度的一个证明。从历史角度看，两种立场的不变性阐明了人这种本质上的强烈感情，人纠结在对统一的欲望和对包围自己的藩篱可能具有的清晰视觉之间。

但是，或许任何一个时代对理性的攻击都不及我们这个时代强烈。自从查拉图斯特拉[14]疾呼：“偶然乃是世上最古老的贵族，我把它交还给万物，我把万物从受制于目的的奴隶状态中解放出来。”自从克尔凯郭尔[15]染上不治之症——“这种疾病导致死亡，而身后一片什么也没了”之后，荒谬思想的主题便接踵而至，有意味深长的，也有折磨人心的。或者至少，本书的附文——有关不合理性与宗教思想的主题，显得至关重要。从雅斯贝尔斯[16]到海德格尔，从克尔恺郭尔到舍斯托夫[17]，从现象学家到舍勒[18]，在逻辑学与道德范围内，构成了一个由幻想作为联系的思想家族，尽管其方法与目的各异，但他们都固执地阻挡着理性的光明之路，而去探索直通真理的道路。我在此设定的是那些为人知晓且被体验过的思想，不论其过去或现在的目标是什么，它们都源自那个无法描绘的宇宙——这里矛盾、对立、痛苦与无能横行，其共性正是已揭示出的主题。必须说明，对这些思想来说，最重要的也是从那些发现中得出的诸多结论，其重要程度要求对这些人必须进行各自分析。但目前我们只关心其发现，以及独创性的试验，只注意指出它们一致的地方。如果说对其哲学进行研究有些冒昧，但无论如何我们可以阐释一下其共同的思想倾向，这也就足够了。

海德格尔冷静地观察了人类的状态，并表示这种存在是耻辱的。在整个生存链条中，唯一的现实是“焦虑”。对于迷失在世界及其岔路上的人而言，这焦虑是一种飞逝而过的恐惧。可是如果这种恐惧变得自知，它就会变成痛苦，这是头脑清醒之人（“存在集中表现在其身上”）永远的立场。这位哲学教授用世界上最抽象的语言坚定地写道：“人类存在的限定性与限制性特征比人类自身更原始。”他对康德[19]的兴趣只是认可其“纯理性”的限制性特征，他在分析的最后总结道：“世界无法再给予处在痛苦之中的人任何东西。”这种焦虑在他看来，似乎比世界上所有的范畴都重要的多，以至于他的所想所谈都是关于它。他列举了焦虑的各个方面：当正常人企图平息他的焦虑时，他会感到厌烦；当思想在沉思死亡时，他感到害怕。海德格尔没有将意识与荒谬分开。意识到死亡便是召唤了焦虑，“存在于是以意识为中介向自己发出了召唤”，这正是痛苦的声音，它恳请存在“从那无名的‘它们’中回归”。对他来说，人必须保持警觉，不到圆满结束不能睡去。他立于这个荒谬的世界中，指出它生命短暂的特性，在废墟中搜寻自己的路。

雅斯贝尔斯对任何实体论都感到绝望，因为他断言，我们已失去了“天真”。他明白我们没有办法超越显见的死亡游戏，他明白思想的终点就是失败。他在历史所揭示的精神冒险上徘徊，并且毫不怜悯地揭露每个体系中的缺陷，揭露那包罗万象的幻觉，揭露那什么也不加掩藏的说教。在这个遭受毁坏的世界，知识的不可能性已得到证实，永远的虚无似乎是唯一的现实，无法补救的绝望似乎是唯一的立场，而雅斯贝尔斯企图在其中找到发现天机的“阿里阿德涅之线”[20]。

就舍斯托夫而言，他的全部作品都异常枯燥，向着同样的真理不懈努力。他不辞劳苦地论证，最严密的体系、最普遍的理性主义最终总是在人类思想的非理性上栽跟头。他没有放过任何一个贬低理性的讽刺性事实或荒唐可笑的矛盾。无论是在心理范围还是思想范围，让他感兴趣的只有一件事，那就是抗辨。通过陀思妥耶夫斯基[21]关于有罪之人的体验，通过尼采精神险象环生的奇遇，通过哈姆雷特的诅咒或某个易卜生的恶毒贵族，舍斯托夫追踪、阐明，并且展示了人类对无可救药的反抗。他拒绝赋予理性以节期，只是在这黯然无色的荒漠中才带着某种决心开始了他的行程，在这荒漠里所有确定性都幻化成石头。

在所有人中，与荒谬联系最紧密的大概要数克尔恺郭尔了。至少在他活着的一部分时间内，他不仅发现了荒谬，而且体验了荒谬。“最难对付的沉默不是缄口不言而是大谈特谈”，正是这个人的话，他从一开始就确信，没有真理是绝对的，或者没有真理能使一个本身就没有可能性的存在变得让人满意。他是思智领域的唐璜[22]，拥有众多笔名与矛盾，写过《两个启发性谈话》和《诱惑者的日记》，后者是悲观的唯灵主义的教科书。他拒绝接受慰藉、道德规范、可靠的准则，至于他心里能感觉到的那根芒刺，则小心翼翼地不去减轻刺痛，反而去唤醒它，像饱经沧桑的人一样感到绝望中的快乐。在这快乐中，他一点一点地建立起被魔鬼附身之人的范畴——清醒、拒绝、假装。那张面孔温柔地冷笑着，那些旋转动作伴随着从心底发出的呐喊，这些都是与难以理解的现实相搏斗的荒谬精神。而给克尔恺郭尔带来他所钟爱的丑闻的精神历险，同样开始于一种被剥夺了背景且跌至初始无逻辑状态的混乱经历。

另一个方面，也就是在关于方法的问题上，胡塞尔[23]和现象学家们还原了世界的多样性，否定了理性至高无上的权力，由此精神宇宙丰富得不可估量。玫瑰花瓣、里程碑或人的手臂，同爱情、欲望或万有引力定律一样重要。思想不再追求统一，或者使外观在一种主法则的伪装下变得为人所熟悉。思考就是重新开始学习发现，学习聚精会神，学习关注意识；就是运用普鲁斯特[24]的方法，把每一种想法、每一种形象都变成一种特权时刻。而为思想正名的是其极度清醒的意识。尽管胡塞尔前进的方式比克尔恺郭尔或舍斯托夫更积极，但在一开始，这种方式却否定理性的经典方法，消灭了希望，使直觉与心理感知到一种现象的激增，这种财富有种非人性的成分在里面。这些道路通往所有科学，也可能到达不了任何科学。这就等于说，在这种情况下，方法比结果更为重要。有关系的只是“一种理解的态度”，而不是一种慰藉。我再重复一遍：至少，开始时是这样。

我们怎能感觉不到这些思想的基本联系呢？怎能没发现他们处在一种特权的痛苦时刻，此时没有希望的任何位置呢？我想听到一切都解释清楚，要么就什么都别解释。而理性即使听到内心的这一呼唤，也无能为力。被这种压迫唤醒的思想寻找着，却除了矛盾与荒唐念头之外一无所获，我不能理解的便是那荒唐念头。世界上尽是这种不理性的人。对于这世界的意义我丝毫不理解，而它本身就是非理性的。如果有人哪怕只说一次：“这是显而易见的”，就什么都省了。可是这些人争先恐后地宣称，什么都不清楚，一切都处在混乱之中，所有人都只保留了自己的洞察力，都只对包围自己的墙有着确切的认识。

所有这些体验都彼此协调，相互肯定。当思想到达自己的极限时，就必须作出判断，并得出结论，这时自杀与答案便出现了。但是我想颠倒一下查询的顺序，从思智的历险开始，然后回到日常活动中。这些忆起的体验都来自我们那不可遗忘的荒漠，至少有必要知道他们走了多远。人们努力至此，便和非理性正面交锋了，内心感到对幸福的期待和对理性的渴望。荒谬就产自人的需求与世界不合理的沉默之间的对抗，这一点不能遗忘，必须坚持下去，因为生活总的影响便依赖于此。非理性因素、人的怀旧情绪，以及二者交汇产生的荒谬——这出戏剧的三个角色，必须以一种存在能达到的逻辑性收尾。

哲学性自杀

尽管如此，荒谬的感觉，不同于荒谬的概念。前者为后者奠定基础，仅此而已。荒谬的感觉并不限于这一概念，除了它对宇宙作判断的短暂时刻，而随后它有可能更进一步的发展。荒谬的情感是有生命的，换句话说，它要么死去，要么比以前声势更大。对于我们已汇集起来的主题而言，也是如此。但话又说回来了，我感兴趣的不是那些言论或者思想（对它们的批评需要换个形式和场合），而是发现那些思想结论的共同点。或许思想间如此巨大的差异前所未有，但我们将那些精神风景——思想的旅程——看作是同一的。同样，尽管知识领域不同，终止其旅行计划的呼唤却有着同样的振荡频率。显然，我们所回忆的这些思想具有共同的立场。说这种立场是致命的，差不多就是玩弄辞藻。在那样一种沉闷的天空下生活，人们被迫留下，要么就得逃离。重要的是弄清楚人们如何逃离，或者为何要留下。我就是这样确定自杀问题，以及对存在哲学结论的潜在兴趣的。

但首先我想从直达路径中绕出来。至此，我们已将荒谬与外界隔离。然而，人们还是可以对这一概念的清晰度产生疑问，并且通过直接分析发现其意义，以及它所包含的后果。

假如我指控一个清白之人犯了一项滔天大罪，假如我说一个品德高尚之人垂涎自己的姐妹，他会回答说这太荒谬了。他生气，是有些可笑，但也有其根本原因。那个有道德的人这样回答，说明我归到他身上的行为与他做人的原则之间存在着明确的对立。“这太荒谬了”，意思是说“这是不可能的”，但同样是说“这是有矛盾的”。假如我看到一个人单剑进攻一伙荷枪实弹的队伍，我会认为他的行为是荒谬的。然而得出这种结论只是因为，他的意图与他要面对的现实两者不相称，因为我注意到，他的实力与他要达到的目的之间存在矛盾。同样，当我们将一项裁定与另一项明显符合事实的裁定相对照时，会发现该判决很荒谬。类似的还有，取得一种荒谬的论证，要将这种推理的结果与人们想要建立的合乎逻辑的现实加以比校。在所有这些例子中，从最简单的到最复杂的，荒谬的程度与对比的双方之间的差距有直接关系。有荒谬的婚姻、荒谬的挑战、荒谬的积怨、荒谬的沉默，甚至是荒谬的和平协定。因而我可以理直气壮地说，荒谬的感情并非产生于对一个事实或一个想法单纯的仔细检查，而是源自一个赤裸裸的事实与一种确定的现实之间的对比，或是一种行为与超越行为的世界之间的对比。荒谬从根本上讲是一种分离，它不属于相比较的任何一方，而是产生于双方交锋时。

因此，针对这种特殊情况，从思维的角度看，我可以说荒谬不在于人（如果这样一种比喻有意义的话），也不在于这个世界，而在于二者的结合。现在来看，荒谬是联结它们的唯一纽带。假如我只想谈论事实，我就能知道人们想要什么，这个世界能为他们提供什么，现在我可以说我还知道什么将他们联结在一起。我不必挖掘得再深一点，对于一个探索者来说一种确定性就足够了，他只须从这种确定性中得出所有的结果。

最直接的结果也是一种方法规则。用这种方法揭露的怪诞的三位一体论当然不会是一种惊人发现，但它和体验的数据却是相似的，因为它极其简单，又极其复杂。从这一方面来说，它的首要区别特征就是不可分性。人的思想之外再无荒谬，于是和所有其他事物一样，荒谬止于死亡。可是世界之外也不再有荒谬。正是在这样一种初级标准下，我判断，荒谬的概念必不可少，并认为它可以作为我所发现的第一个真理。上文提及的方法规则在这里出现了。如果我判断某事是真的，我就必须保护它。如果我试图解决某个问题，那种解决办法至少不能让问题中的某些成分消失。对我而言，孤立的一个根据就是荒谬。在我的探询中，首要的、唯一的条件终究是保留那摧毁我的东西，进而尊重其中我认为必不可少的东西。我已将之定义为一种反抗，一种不止的斗争。

这种荒谬的逻辑贯穿始终，我必须承认这一斗争包含希望的完全缺失（与绝望无关），一种不断的剔除（不可与放弃相混淆）和一种有意识的不满（须与不成熟的躁动相区别）。任何破坏、去除、操纵这些要求的东西（首先是消除分离的协调），都会推翻荒谬，并且使人们由此确定的立场失去价值。荒谬只有在不被人们认可的时候才有意义。

有一个合乎道德规范的显见事实，那就是，人总会成为自己所求真理的猎物。他一旦承认了真理，就无法从这些真理中抽身而出，就必须付出代价。意识到这种荒谬的人不再属于未来，这是理所应当的。同样理所应当的是，他会努力逃脱这个亲手创造的宇宙。上述一切就是因为这一悖论才有意义。有些人从批评理性主义入手，承认了这种产生荒谬的环境。从这一点上看，对他们详述其结果的方法进行仔细检查，是再有益不过的了。

仅从存在哲学的角度看，我发现这类哲学无一例外都提到了逃遁。在一个仅限于人的密闭的宇宙，它们从理性废墟上的荒谬出发，通过不同寻常的推理，将击溃自己的东西神圣化，并且寻找理由对使自己穷困的事物产生希望。这种被迫的希望对他们来说就是一种宗教信仰，值得引起关注。

这里我只以舍斯托夫和克尔凯郭尔青睐的几个主题为例作个分析。雅斯贝尔斯则会以讽刺画的形式，为我们提供一个典型例子来表现这种立场，其他问题将随之变得更加清楚。他无力实现超验之物，无法到达经验的最深处，也意识不到这个被失败搅乱的世界。他是否会前进，或至少从这次失败中总结出什么呢？他没有得出什么新的东西。在体验中，除了承认自己无能为力之外，他一无所获，也不知道从何处推论出什么让人满意的原理。但是正如他自己所说，他突然就不加证实地一下子肯定了超验之物、经验的本质，以及生活的超常意义。于是他写道：“失败在任何可能的解释和说明之外揭露的不是超验之物的缺失，而是超验之物的存在吗？”这种存在由于人们的盲目自信，突然就解释了一切，他将这种存在定义为“普通与特殊不可思议的联合”。于是荒谬成了神（从本词最广义的层面看），而这种理解上的无能成了阐明一切的存在。无法对这种推理进行有逻辑的准备，我可以把这叫做一种跨跃。而我们可以有悖常理地理解雅斯贝尔斯的主张，以及他为使超验之物的体验变得不可能而投入的无限耐心。因为这种近似越短暂，这种定义越空洞，这超验之物对他来说便越真实；因为他在肯定超验之物上投入的热情，和其解释能力与这个世界及经验的不合理性之间的差距，直接相关。因而似乎雅斯贝尔斯将理性的先入之见摧毁得越是彻底，他对这个世界的解释就越是激进。这位鼓吹耻辱思想的使徒会在受尽凌辱之后发现如何重生。

玄妙的思想惯用这种手段，它们与所有思想立场一样合情合理。但此刻我表现得好像是在认真对待某个问题。我没有事先判断这种立场的总体价值或其教育意义，我只想考虑它能否满足我自己设立的条件，是否值得我为之论战。某评论人引用了舍斯托夫的一段话，很有意思：“真正的解决办法只有一个，”他说，“正是出现在人们的判断没有解决方案之时。否则，我们要上帝有什么用呢？我们求助于上帝只是为了实现不可能，至于可能之事，人就可以办到了。”如果有一种舍斯托夫哲学，我可以说它完全是用这种方式总结出来的。因为在其饱含激情的分析最后，舍斯托夫发现了所有存在根本的荒谬性。他没有说“这是荒谬的”，而是说“这是上帝：我们必须依赖他，即使他不符合我们任何理性的范畴。”为了使他的思想不致引起混乱，这位俄国哲学家甚至暗示道，这个上帝或许仇恨满腹，难以捉摸，还矛盾丛生；但他的面孔越是丑陋，他就越坚持自己的权力。他的伟大之处正是他的前后不一，他的非人性便是证明。人们一定要跃入上帝怀中，用这一跃把自己从理性的幻影中解放出来。因而，对于舍斯托夫来说，接受荒谬与荒谬本身是同时进行的。意识到荒谬就相当于接受了荒谬，其思想所作的所有逻辑上的努力就是为了引出荒谬，这样荒谬中包含的巨大希望便会同时喷薄而出。我重申一次，这种立场是合情合理的，但我还是坚持只考虑一个问题及其所有后果。我不必检验一种思想的情感，或是一种信仰行为的情感，我有一辈子的时间去这么做。我知道舍斯托夫的立场惹怒了理性主义者，但我还是觉得正确的是舍斯托夫，而非理性主义者。我只想知道舍斯托夫是否还忠实于荒谬的信条。

如今，倘若承认荒谬的反面是希望，则可见舍斯托夫的存在思想是以荒谬为前提的，但只是为了消除它才去证明它。思想的这种奸计是巫师玩的情感小把戏。当舍斯托夫在别处又把他的荒谬与被普遍接受的道德和理性相对立时，他把这种荒谬叫做真理与救赎。因此从根本上说，荒谬这一定义包含着舍斯托夫对它的一种认可。倘若承认，这一概念的所有能量都在于它与我们的低级希望相对抗的方式上；倘若意识到，要保持荒谬就不能得到认可，那么显然，为了达到令人满意又难以置信的永恒，荒谬失掉了自己的本真、自己的人性和相对性特征。如果有一种荒谬，那么它必在人的宇宙中。这一概念从把自己转化为永远的跳板那一刻起，就和人的清醒不再有关联了。荒谬不再是人们无需认同便能确定的显见之物，于是就避免了斗争。人们将荒谬合并为一，并且在这种情况下，消除了荒谬必不可少的特性——对立、撕裂、分离。这一跃便是逃遁。舍斯托夫喜欢引用哈姆雷特的话“时间脱节了”，他是带着一种狂野的希望写下这句话的，这种希望似乎为他所独有，因为哈姆雷特说这句话，或是莎士比亚写这句话时，都没有那种感觉。对这种不合理性的沉醉，以及天生的狂热，使一个清醒的头脑远离荒谬。对于舍斯托夫来说，理性是无用的，但理性之外别有他物；对于一个荒谬的头脑来说，理性也是无用的，但理性之外什么也没有。

这一跃至少可以在荒谬的本质问题上给我们多一些启发。我们知道荒谬只有在平衡中才有价值，它首先产生于比较过程中，而非被比较的各项。可舍斯托夫恰恰是把所有的重点都放在了被比较的一项上，破坏了平衡。只有在我们可以理解并解释诸多事情时，我们对理解的渴望、对绝对性的怀恋才能得到解释。绝对否定理性是无益的，理性在自己的秩序中是有效的。我们正是想通过人们的经验澄清一切，假如做不到这一点，假如在这种情况下产生了荒谬，那么它正产生于有效而有限的理性与不断复苏的非理性交会的时刻。然而，当舍斯托夫起而抨击黑格尔的主张，诸如“太阳系遵循永恒的规律运转，而这些规律就是太阳系的理性”的时候，当他狂热地冲击斯宾诺莎[25]的理性主义的时候，他恰恰肯定了一切理性的虚伪。由这个结论出发，他便通过一个不合情理的自然反转，肯定了非理性的优先地位。[26]但这种转变并不明显。这里会插入限度和层面的概念。自然法则可能会在某个限度内有效，超过这一限度它们就会违背自我，产生荒谬。否则，它们会在描述层面上使自己合乎情理，而在解释层面上并不因此成真。在这里，为达到非理性，所有一切都作了牺牲，而对明晰性的要求被消除后，荒谬便携对比中的一方消失了。另一方面，荒谬之人没有经历这种保持平衡的过程。他承认斗争与非理性，并未绝对轻视理性。

在里奥·舍斯托夫的思想中感知到的问题，或许在克尔凯郭尔的思想中更为突出。的确，要清楚概括这一难以捉摸之作家的言论，并非易事。但是，尽管其著作中存在明显的对立，排除种种化名、伎俩和玩笑，我们似乎可以从整部作品中预感到（同时也担忧）一种真理从其最后几部作品中最终迸发出来：克尔凯郭尔同样也纵身一跃。他的童年受到基督教的惊吓，最终他回到了这种宗教最严酷的一面。对他来说，矛盾与悖论也成了宗教标准。因而导致人们对生活的意义与深度感到绝望的东西，如今又赋予了生命以真实性与清晰性。基督教引起了公愤，克尔凯郭尔所需要的其实就是依格那丢·罗耀拉[27]所要求的第三牺牲，这一牺牲最讨上帝的欢心：“智力的牺牲。”[28]这一“跃”产生了异乎寻常的效果，但不应再让我们大吃一惊了。他在荒谬中确立了另一个世界的标准，但那只是这个世界的经验的残羹冷炙。“从失败中，”克尔凯郭尔说，“信徒找到了自己的胜利。”

我不必去考虑这种立场与什么鼓动人心的说教有关，我只需考虑荒谬的浩大声势以及它自己的特性能否证明自己的合理性。我明白，它做不到这一点。人们若再思索一下荒谬的内容，就更能理解启发克尔凯郭尔的那种方法了。在世界的非理性与荒谬反叛的怀旧情感之间，他没有保持住平衡，他也没有尊重构成（恰当地说是）荒谬感情的关联。当他明确自己无法从非理性中逃脱时，他至少想把自己从那令人绝望的怀旧情感中解救出来，这种情感对于他来说贫瘠而缺乏深意。可是如果在这一点上他的判断是对的，他不可能去否定自己。如果他用一种疯狂的信仰代替了对反抗的呼吁，他马上就会对曾启发自己的荒谬视而不见，而将他从此拥有的唯一确定性奉若神明，也就是非理性。加里亚尼神父[29]对德毕内夫人[30]说过：重要的并不是赎罪，而是与原罪共存。克尔凯郭尔想要赎罪，赎罪是他狂热的愿望，在他的日记中这种愿望随处可见。他在思智上所作的全部努力就是逃离人类命运的矛盾。他在谈到自己时会断断续续地意识到它的虚伪，于是做出更加绝望的努力，好像对上帝的恐惧或虔诚都不能让他回复平静。因此，他用一个不自然的托词给了非理性荒谬的外表，给了上帝荒谬的特性：不公平、不合逻辑、不可理解。唯有他的智慧试图扼杀人心灵深处的欲求。既然没有任何东西得到证明，那么一切都可以得到证明。

事实上，克尔凯郭尔本人向我们展示了走过的路。这里我不想多谈什么。但是，我们在他的著作中，怎能无视为平衡荒谬中的损伤而对灵魂所做的几乎故意的损伤呢？这也是《日记》的主旨。“我所缺少的是动物性，这动物性同样是人类命运的一部分……那么请给我一个身体。”他进而说：“哦！特别是在我青春萌动的时代，为了成为一个人，我什么代价没付出啊，即使只有六个月的时间……说到底，我欠缺的就是一个身体以及存在的各种肉体条件。”还是这个人，在另一部著作里却发出了对希望的伟大呼喊，这希望经历过那么多个世纪，鼓舞了那么多的心灵（除了那荒谬之人的心灵）。“但是对基督徒而言，死亡绝对不是一切的终结，它包含的希望远远多于生活所赋予我们的，即使那生活充满健康活力。”由耻辱而来的和解仍旧是和解。可见，或许这允许人们从死亡——希望的反面——中获取希望。但是即使人们出于同情而倾向于这种立场，还是必须指出，过度是什么也证明不了的。正如人们所言，这个超过了人们的尺度；因此它必须是超人的。然而这种“因此”是多余的，这里没有合乎逻辑的确定性，也没有试验的可能性。我只能说，事实上，这个超过了我的尺度。如果我从中找不到一个否定性的推论，至少我不想从这不可思议中发现任何东西。我想知道，凭借我所知道的能否生活，能否仅凭它生活。人们又告诉我，思智在这里必须牺牲掉自己的骄傲，理性必须低下高贵的头颅。可是如果我意识到了理性的限度，我不会因此否定它，我已经意识到它的相对力量。我只想保持在这条中间道路上，思智在这里可以保持清晰。如果这就是它的骄傲，我没发现足够的理由去抛弃它。比如，再没有比克尔凯郭尔的观点更深刻的了，在他看来，绝望不是一个事实而是一种状态：罪孽的状态。因为罪孽远离上帝，而荒谬作为有意识之人的超自然状态，并不通往上帝。[31]或许为使这一概念更清楚，我可以斗胆使用这种惊世骇俗的说法：荒谬就是没有上帝的罪孽。

这是一个在荒谬状态下生活的问题。我知道它产生的基础，这种思想与这个世界相互拉扯，却无法彼此包容。我想知道这种生活状态的规则，而所提供给我的答案漏掉了它的基础，否定了这种痛苦的对立中之一方，想要让我放弃。我又问，我所发现的自我状态都包含什么；我知道的是，它包含费解与无知；于是我确定，这种无知可解释一切，这种黑暗是我的光明。可是这样的回答不能满足我的目的，那种让人心潮澎湃的抒情无法对我掩藏那种悖论。克尔凯郭尔会大声疾呼：“假如人们没有了永恒的意识，假如在一切事物的根源，只有一种野蛮而骚动的力量主宰万物，在那黑暗激情的风暴中生发出或巨大或微小的东西，假如那无物可填充的无底的虚无正是万物之基，那么生活除了绝望还会是什么样呢？”这声呼喊不会阻止荒谬的人，寻找真实的东西不同于寻找期望的东西。如果为避免这一让人头疼的问题：“生活会是什么样？”，人们就得像驴子一样，从那虚幻的玫瑰中汲取营养，那么荒谬的思想更愿意接受无畏的克尔凯郭尔的回答——“绝望”，而不是屈从于谎言。万事考虑周全，一个坚定的灵魂什么都能应付得来。

在此我擅自把这种存在主义立场叫做哲学性自杀，但这并没有包含任何评论在里面，只是方便指出一种思想进行自我否定，并通过这种否定超越自我。对于存在主义者而言，否定是他们的上帝。确切地说，这一神明只有通过否定人的理性才得以维持。[32]但是同自杀一样，神明也因人而异。跨跃的方式有很多，重要的是要跨跃。那些作为弥补的否定，那些终极矛盾（否定尚未跃过的障碍），可能会从某种宗教启发中弹跳出来，正如从理性的秩序中弹出一样（这是此推理针对的悖论）。它们一直声称对永恒的权利，也只有在永恒中他们才会跨跃。

必须重申，本书中的推理完全不理会我们这个开明时代传播最为广泛的精神态度：以一切皆理性的原则为基础，旨在解释这个世界。当我们接受世界必然是清晰的这一观点后，自然要给出一个关于世界的清晰观点。这甚至也是合情合理的，却和我们这里进行的推理无关。事实上，我们的目的在于阐明源于世界缺乏意义这种哲学的思想，以及最后从中发现一种意义与深度时所采取的步骤。其中最动人的步骤从本质上说是具有宗教意义的；在非理性的主题上变得更加明显，但最自相矛盾又最富有意义的肯定是将合理的理性归于这个原以为缺少指导原则的世界。对于怀旧精神的这种新成就，如果人们不能给出一种观点的话，那无论如何也不可能得到与我们相关的结果。

我将只检验一下由胡塞尔和现象学家们带动的潮流——“意向”主题，前面也已提到过。起初，胡塞尔的方法否定理性的经典步骤。我再重复一遍，思考不是产生一致，或是使外表在一个大原则的伪装下变得为人熟知。思考是重新学习如何去看，操控人的意识，从每种形象中发现一种特权位置。换句话说，现象学拒绝解释这个世界，它只想描述真实的经验。其早期论断中就有这种说法，没有真实只有真理，这肯定了荒谬的思想。从夜晚的微风，到我肩上的手臂，一切都有它的真实。意识关注它，并借此加以阐明。意识并没有形成其理解的对象，它只是找到重点，这是一种关注行为。借用柏格森[33]派的形象，它就像是一台突然聚焦到一个图像上的投影仪。不同之处在于，这里没有旁注，只有一连串不连贯的图解。在那奇幻的灯下，所有画面都受到特别待遇。意识在经验中将其关注的对象定格，运用非凡的技艺将它们分离出来。自此，它们不再接受任何评价。这就是刻画意识的“意向”，但这个词语并不意味着最终定义，只限于“方向”的意义层面：它只具有方位意义。

初看起来，在这种情况下，似乎没有什么违背荒谬的精神。这种只描述不解释的思想表面看上去很低调，这种意向性的学科导致经验不断丰富，促使世界在烦琐中重生，这些都是荒谬的步骤。至少初看起来如此。就思想方法而言，不论是在这种情况下还是其他情况下，它总会表现出两个方面，一个是心理学方面，另一个是形而上学方面。[34]因此它们包含两种真理。如果意向的主题只阐释一种心理学立场，致使现实没有得到解释反而被消耗殆尽，那么实际上什么也没有从荒谬精神中分离出来。它旨在列举自己无法超越的东西，只是在没有统一原则的情况下确信，思想的乐趣仍然是描述并理解经验的各个方面。由此，包含其中的真理从本质上说是心理学上的，它只是证实了现实可以提供的“兴趣”。这种方法唤醒了一个沉睡的世界，使其形象浮现于脑海。但是如果试图为那个真理概念奠定一个合理性的基础，如果声称可以用这种方式发现知识各种形象的“本质”，那么就恢复了经验的深度。对于一个荒谬的头脑来说，这是难以置信的。如今，正是这种在谦逊和显现在意向态度中的确信之间的摇摆，以及这种现象学思想的闪光，能最好地阐释荒谬的推理。

胡塞尔同样提到了由意向揭露的“超时间本质”，他听起来像柏拉图。并非所有事物都不能用一物来解释而必须用万物来解释，我觉得没什么不同。诚然，这些想法或本质要素都是意识在每种描述最后“实现”的，不会被作为完美的模范。但可以确信，它们都直接出现在认识的每种依据中。单一的观点不再能解释一切，无数的本质要素为无数对象赋予一个意义。这个世界停顿了，但是却被点亮了。柏拉图现实主义变得直观起来，但它仍旧是现实主义。克尔凯郭尔被自己的上帝吞没；巴门尼德[35]使思想深陷于“同一”中。而思想把自己掷入一种抽象的多神论中，这还不够：幻觉与虚构同样属于“超时间本质”。在观念的新世界中，光怪陆离的物种与大都会人这一更现代的物种协调合作。

有一种纯心理学的观点认为：世界的各个方面都是享有特权的，这种观点在一个荒谬之人看来真实而令人不快。说任何事都是享有特权的就等于说任何事都是平等的，但是这一真理在形而上学方面影响极为深远，以致荒谬之人通过一个基本反应便感觉和柏拉图更接近了。实际上他被告知，每种形象都有一个享有平等特权的本质。在这个没有等级的理想世界，正式部队只由将军组成。诚然，至高无上被消除了，但思想中的突然转变让一种有缺陷的内在性回归到这个世界中，这种内在性恢复了这个宇宙的深度。

我是否该担心把这个被其创造者谨慎使用的主题扯得太远了呢？我只读过胡塞尔的这些观点：“就其本身而言，真实的东西是绝对真实的；真理有一个，与自身一致，不管认识真理的是谁，是人、魔鬼、天使，还是神。”这话表面来看自相矛盾，却有严密的逻辑性，但前提是要接受他先前的观点。理性胜利了，并且用这种声音吹响号角，我不可否认。其观点在这个荒谬的世界又有何意呢？天使或是神的认识对我来说都没有意义，神赐的理性准许给我的地位永远都让我难以置信。我从他的观点中也辨认出一种跨跃，尽管是以抽象形式出现的，但对我来说却意味着要忘记我不想忘记的。胡塞尔进一步感叹：“假如一切承受磁力的质量都消失了，那么磁力规律也不会因此被摧毁，只不过是没有再施行的可能罢了。”这时我明白，自己面对一种慰藉的形而上学。而如果我想发现思想在何时偏离了清晰之路，只须重读胡塞尔有关精神的相似推理：“倘若我们考虑清楚心理过程的确切规则，它们也会一成不变的，如同理论自然科学的基本规则一样。因此即使没有心理过程，它们也是有效的。”即使精神不存在，其诸多规则也会存在！于是我发现，胡塞尔旨在从一种心理学的真理中制定出一个合理规则：在否定了人类理性的整合力后，他通过这一权宜之计跃入了永恒的理性。

我也不会对胡塞尔“具体宇宙”的主题感到惊讶。如果跟我说并非所有本质因素都是形式上的，而有些是物质上的，第一种是逻辑对象，第二种是科学对象，那么这只是一个定义问题。我读到，抽象的宇宙只是表示具体宇宙的一部分，然而已得到注意的摇摆容许我阐明混乱的各项。因为这将意味着，我所关注的具体对象——天空、外套上水渍中的反射物——保留了我对这世界的兴趣关注点的声望。我不否认这一点，但这也意味着这件外套本身就具有普遍性，有自己独特而充分的本质，属于形式世界。我意识到，只是前进的次序被改变了，这个世界已不再能反射到更高层次的宇宙中，但形式的天堂在地球上的诸多形象中都有自己的倒影。这对我而言没什么改变。在此我没有形成对人类状态的意义——这一具体性——的鉴赏力，但我发现了一种不受束缚的唯理智论，可以将具体本身普遍化。

那种明显的悖论通过受辱的理性和胜利的理性这两条截然相反的道路，导致思想自我否定，惊异于这一悖论是徒劳无获的。从胡塞尔抽象的神到克尔凯郭尔光辉耀眼的神，两者相距并不遥远。理性与非理性宣传的是同一种东西。事实上用什么方法关系不大，只要有实现的愿望就足够了。抽象哲学家与宗教哲学家都从无序出发，并在相同的焦虑中互相支持。然而解释是必要的，这里怀旧比知识更强。这个时代的思想受到了世界无意义这种哲学的深刻影响，其结论也五花八门，这是很有意义的。它在现实的极端理性化与非理性化之间不停摇摆，前者倾向于将这种思想分化成诸多标准的理性，后者则倾向于神化这种思想，但这种分裂只是表面上的。这是一个妥协问题，在两种情况下，跨跃便足够了。认为理性概念是单向概念的想法一直都是错的。说实话，不管它对理想要求多么严格，这一概念与其他概念一样是不稳定的。理性有一种人性的面貌，但它也能被神化。普罗提诺[36]是第一个将之与永恒的思想态度相调和的人，自他以后，理性便学会了背离最受青睐的原则（即矛盾），以将相关要素中神奇的那一个、最奇特的那一个并入理性。[37]这是思想的一个工具，并非思想本身。最重要的是，一个人的思想就是他对旧事的怀恋。

正如理性可以抚慰普罗提诺的哀伤一样，它也在永恒熟悉的背景中找到了平息当代痛苦的方法。荒谬的头脑就没这么走运了，对于它来说，世界既没有那么合理，也没有那么不合理。它是不理性的，仅此而已。在胡塞尔那里，最终理性一点限度也没有了。相反，荒谬设立了自己的限制，因为它无力平息自己的痛苦。克尔凯郭尔从另一角度坚称，要否定那种痛苦，一种限度就够了。但荒谬并未走这么远，对荒谬而言，这一限制只是在理性的理想中发挥作用。如存在学家构想的那样，非理性的主题是，理性变得混乱，通过否定自身而逃遁。荒谬是注意到自身限制的清醒的理性。

只有在这条困径的尽头，荒谬之人才认出自己真正的动机。在将自己内心的极度渴望与摆在自己面前的事实相对比时，它突然感到自己想要逃离。在胡塞尔的宇宙中，世界变得清晰起来，人们内心对熟悉的渴望变得毫无用处。在克尔凯郭尔的启示中，那种对清晰性的渴望必须被放弃才能得到满足。罪孽与其说是知道（如果是这样，那么每个人都是无辜的），不如说是想知道。这的确是唯一的罪孽，荒谬之人从中感到，自己的罪恶与清白都来自它。他有一种解决办法可选，这种办法让过去所有的矛盾都变成了论战的游戏。然而荒谬之人并不是这样体验矛盾的，应该保留尚未得到满足的矛盾的真实性。他不想布道。

我的推论要忠实于激发起这种推论的明晰性。这种明晰性是荒谬的，它是拥有渴望的头脑与带来失望的世界之间的分离，是我对统一性的怀恋，是这个支离破碎的宇宙，是将它们联结在一起的矛盾。克尔凯郭尔抑制着我的怀旧情绪，胡塞尔将这个宇宙聚合在一起。这并非我的期待。问题是，要带着这些错乱生活与思考，要明白是接受还是拒绝。掩盖证据，或是通过否认等式一侧的因素来抑制荒谬是没有问题的。有必要知道人们能否与之共存，或者另一方面，逻辑是否命令人们为之放弃生命。我感兴趣的是普通的自杀，而不是哲学性自杀。我只是想为它去除情感内容，弄清楚它的逻辑与整体性。其他任何立场都意味着荒谬想法的欺骗，以及思想在自己所揭露的东西面前的回避。胡塞尔宣称要服从欲求，以避免“在某种熟知而适宜的存在条件下生活与思考的积习”，然而最后的一跃又让他恢复了永久性与舒适性。这一跃并不是克尔凯郭尔意想中的极端危险，相反，危险存在于跨跃之前的微妙瞬间。能够停留在那让人晕眩的风口浪尖——这就是完整性，其余都是借口。我还知道，无助激发起的协调从来没有像克尔凯郭尔的那样出众，但如果说无助在历史那不动声色的风景中占有一席之地的话，那么它在那种需求已为人所知的推理中是没有位置的。

荒谬的自由

主要部分已论述完毕，但还有几件事我要坚持，无法割舍，其中主要有我所知道之事、我无法否认之事、我无法拒绝之事，以及确切之事。对于我身上依赖于模糊往事的那一部分，除了那种对统一性的欲求、对解决问题的渴望、对清晰性和内聚力的需要之外，我可以全盘否定。对于周遭冒犯我或愉悦我的东西，除了那种混乱、那种当权机会、那种源自无序状态的神授的自由之外，我可以一一加以驳斥。我不知道这世界是否有一种超越自身的意义，但我知道我不了解那种意义，让我现在就去了解它也不可能。一种存在于我的环境之外的意义，于我意义何在？我只能理解人类的语言。我所理解的是我触摸得到的、与我相对抗的东西。而我也知道这两种确定性——我对绝对性和统一性的欲望，以及把世界还原为一种合理而理性原则的终极任务，无法得到调和。还有什么真理我可以坦诚承认而不需要引入一个我所欠缺的希望，而这种真理又在我生存条件的限度内毫无意义呢？

假如我是林中之木，兽中之猫，那么这种生活还会有某种意义，确切地说那种问题就不会出现，因为我将是属于这个世界的。我应该就是这个世界，这个我用自己的全部意识和对熟悉性的全部坚持而反对的世界。正是这一可笑的理性让我与世间万物为敌，我无法将之一笔勾销，我也必须因此坚守自己相信的真理。对我来说显而易见的事情，即使于我不利，我也必须坚持。而除了对这一理性的意识，还有什么会是这种冲突的基础，以及这世界与我的思想相分离的基础呢？因此，如果我想坚持这一理性，我就可以通过一种始终如一的意识永远保持清醒与警觉。这就是此刻我必须要记住的。此刻，那么明显而又那么难以赢得的荒谬，又回到了人的生活中，在那里找到了家的感觉。此刻，精神也可以远离清醒的努力，这条路贫瘠而干皱。这条路如今出现在日常生活中。它遭遇到不具名的无人称代词的世界，但自此人们带着反抗与清醒走进了这个世界。人们已经忘记了如何去应付，如今的地狱是其最后的王国。一切问题又都变得尖锐起来，抽象的明晰性在形式与色彩的诗意面前撤退了。精神冲突变得形象化，又成了人心卑贱而华丽的庇护。尽管它们都未安置下来，但形象都得到了改观。有谁打算结束生命，或是一跃而逃，或是重建一座规模等身的思想与形式大厦？又有谁相反想在让人惊心动魄、心力交瘁的荒谬之赌上下一注呢？在此问题上让我们来个最后一搏，得出我们的所有结论。届时身体、爱慕、创造、行动、人的高尚在这个疯狂的世界上将各归各位。最终人们会在这里找到供养其伟大性的荒谬之酒与冷漠之粮。

我们再次强调方法吧：这是一个坚持的问题。在荒谬之人的路上，某个时候他会受到引诱。即使是没有神存在的历史也不乏宗教或先知。若被要求跨跃，他只能回应说自己没有完全理解，说这不甚清楚。实际上，除了自己完全理解的，他不想做任何事情。他被保证说这是傲慢产生的罪孽，但他不理解罪孽的概念；他也确信，地狱就在眼前，但没有足够的想象力去构建那个奇怪的未来；还有，他在尘世的岁月正在消失，但考虑这些对他来说却是徒劳。也有人试图使他承认自己的罪过，但他觉得自己是无辜的。事实上，他能感觉到的只有那给予自己一切的不可救药的清白。因此他对自己的要求就是只带着自己知道的生活，适应确定之物，拒绝任何不确定之物。他被告知没有东西是确定的，但至少这句话是确定的。而他所关心的是这一点：他想确定是否可能毫无诉求地生活。

现在，我可以引出自杀的概念了。或许你已经预感到会有什么解决办法被提出来。现在这个问题倒过来了。一开始的问题是要发现生活是否一定要有意义才能过好，而如今显然相反，生活没有意义才会过得更好。体验一种经历、一种特定的命运，便是接受全部生活。现在，人们都知道了生活的荒谬，谁也不会体验这样的命运了，除非他的所作所为都是为保持由意识阐明的这一荒谬。他生活在对立之上，而否定对立的其中一方就相当于躲避它，取消有意识的反抗就是逃避问题，于是永恒变革的主题被引入个人体验，生活便是保持荒谬，而保持荒谬首先就要审视荒谬。荒谬与欧律狄刻[38]不同，只有当我们背离它时，它才会消亡。仅有的几个前后一致的立场之一便是反抗，这是人与自己的阴暗面之间的不断对抗，是对不可能得到的透明度的一种坚持，它每一秒钟都要重新挑战这个世界。正如危险为人们提供了抓住意识的独特时机一样，形而上学的反抗将意识扩展至体验的整个过程。它是不断出现在人们眼中的自我形象，而非什么强烈的愿望，因为它缺少希望。这种反抗必将带来一种不甘溃败的命运，尽管本该是心甘情愿的。

由此可以看出荒谬的体验在多大程度上是远离自杀的。人们或许认为反抗之后便是自杀——错了，自杀并非反抗的逻辑后果。情况恰恰相反，因为自杀是以同意为前提的。自杀，同跨跃一样，是极端的接受。一切都结束了，人便回到了自己的本质性历史中。他的未来，他可怕而又独一无二的未来——他看到了，并飞快地冲向它。自杀用自己的方式解决了荒谬，它将荒谬吞没在同样的死亡中。但我知道，为将荒谬保持下去，就不能解决它。它在意识到死亡的同时，拒绝了死亡，因而便逃脱了自杀。在有罪之人产生最后一个念头时，荒谬是他在自己晕倒的片刻于几码以外看到的鞋带。实际上，自杀的反面是被判了死罪的人。

这一反抗赋予生命以价值。它贯穿于整个生命，使这种生命恢复了昔日的尊严。对于一个眼光不开阔的人而言，没有比与超越自己的现实相搏斗的思智更好的视野了。人的自豪感是无可匹敌的，任何诋毁对之都无济于事。那种精神自我施加的纪律、无端冒出来的意愿、面对面的对抗都具有某种特殊性。现实的非人性成就了人的尊严，而让这种现实处于困顿状态就等于是让自己处于困顿状态。我于是明白了，为何那些学说向我解释一切的同时也损耗了我的体能。它们将我从生命的重量中解救出来，而从此我就必须独自肩负起这重量。此刻我难以想象，一种怀疑论的形而上学能与一种选择放弃的道德观相结合。

意识与反抗，这些是与放弃相对的否定。人心中一切不屈不挠和充满激情的东西都在用自己的生命朝着相反的方向驱动着人的意识和反抗。一定不要心甘情愿地去死，自杀是一种否认。荒谬之人只能耗干一切，最后让自己枯竭。荒谬是他的极端紧张状态，他孤军奋战，不断保持着这种状态，因为他知道，他用那种意识以及日复一日的反抗证实了自己唯一的真理，那就是反抗。这是我们得出的第一个结果。

如果我坚持这种预先设定的立场——只在于从一种新发现的概念中得出所有结论（别无他物），那么我就会遇到第二个悖论。为忠实于这种方法，我与形而上学的自由问题毫无干系。我对人是不是自由的这一问题没有兴趣，我体验的只是自己的自由。而关于这一问题，我没有什么笼统观点，只是有一些清晰的领悟。“自由本身”的问题是没有意义的，因为它以一种极其不同的方式与上帝的问题相联系。要知道人是否自由就要知道人能否有一个主人。这一问题独特的荒谬之处就在于，产生自由这一问题的观念同样剥夺了它的所有意义。因为有上帝在，自由问题就得让位于罪恶问题。你知道选项的：或者我们是不自由的，全能的上帝对罪恶负责；或者我们是自由的，我们对罪恶负责，而上帝不是全能的。学术界众技全施，而对于这一尖锐的悖论，既无以补充，又不可削弱。

有一种概念让我搞不懂，而且一旦脱离了我自身体验的参考框架它便失去了意义，因此我不能迷失在对这种概念的吹捧与定义中。我不明白，一种更高级的存在会给我一种什么样的自由，我已经没有了等级感。我对自由的概念只停留在囚犯以及国家的个体身上，我只知道思想与行动的自由。如果荒谬取消了所有永久自由的可能性，它在另一方面就恢复并扩大了我的行动自由。这种对希望和未来的剥夺意味着人可以有更多自主权。

在与荒谬相遇之前，芸芸众生活得有目标，他们关心未来，希望得到证明（至于与何人何物有关则不是问题所在）。人们掂量自己的机会，指望着“某一天”、退休后的生活，或是子孙的事业，仍然觉得自己可以控制生活中的某些事。实际上，即使所有事情都与自由相背，他还是表现得好像自己是自由的。然而荒谬之后，所有事情都被搅乱了：那种“我要”的想法、那种似乎一切皆有意义（即使我有时会说什么都没有意义）的行为方式——这一切都被一种可能性死亡的荒谬性以其令人眩晕的方式揭露无疑。思考未来，为自己设定目标，偏爱某物——所有这些都预先假定了一种自由的信念，即使人们有时确信自己没有感觉到自由。但在那一刻我很清楚，那种更高的自由、那种可单独作为真理基础的将来的自由并不存在。死亡是此时唯一的现实，而死亡之后便是关键时刻。我甚至都无法自由地使自己不朽，只是一个奴隶，最重要的是一个没有永久革命的希望且无法求助于轻蔑的奴隶。而没有了革命与蔑视谁还会继续做奴隶呢？没了永恒的保证，哪种自由可以完整地存在呢？

但荒谬之人同时意识到，他一直受制于假定的自由，他生活在这种幻象之上。从某种意义上说，这成了他的束缚。他使自己适应于某种可达到的目标的要求，并且成了为自由服务的奴隶，于是他设想了一种生活目标。所以我不能表现出我准备成为的父亲（或工程师、国家领导人、邮局小职员）身份，我想我可以做这种选择而不是其他选择。当然，这是我无意识的想法。但同时，周围人们的想法，还有我的人性环境中的假设（其他人对自由的状态深信不疑，而这种快乐情绪极具传染性），又进一步肯定了我的假设。人不论多么排斥道德或社会假设，他都会多少受其影响，而对于那些极品假设（假设也有好坏之分），人们甚至会改变自己的生活以与之相适应，所以荒谬之人意识到他并非真正自由。说白了，我为自己设立了种种障碍以限制我的生活，以至我有了希望，以至我开始对一种可能为我所独有的真理、一种存在或创造的方式而担忧，以至我安排了自己的生活，并且接受了它的意义。我表现得像诸多为我所厌恶的思想与心灵的官僚一般，而他们唯一的罪恶我如今已非常清楚，那就是认真对待人的自由。

荒谬在这一点上启发了我：不存在未来，这也为我内心的自由提供了理由。这里我要做两个对比。首先，神秘主义者都在付出自我中找到自由。当他们献身于自己的神，并且接受他的规则时，他们获得了隐秘的自由。他们自愿成为奴隶，于是便重获了一种更深刻的独立性。然而这种自由意味着什么？或许可以说，最重要的是他们自身感觉到自由，尽管不是无拘无束的那种自由。同样，荒谬的人在凝结于自己身上的那种强烈关注之外，感到完全释放，他完全朝向了死亡（这是最显见的荒谬性）。他享受一种与普遍规则有关的自由。从这一点可以看出，存在哲学的原初主题还保有其全值。但是我们暗指的其实是存在性说教，随之还有基本逃离意识的精神跨跃。同样（下面是我的第二个对比），古时的奴隶不属于自己，但他们知道那种不用对谁负责的自由。[39]而死亡也有一双贵族长老之手，既镇压，也给人自由。

投身于那种无限制的确定性中，并因此感到远离自己的生活，远到足以增强这种确定性，且对此拥有一种广阔的眼界——这需要一种自由的原则。与任何行动上的自由一样，这种新的独立有一种明确的时间限制，而不会开一张永久性的支票，但它替代了自由的种种假象，那些假象均以死亡告终。监狱的大门在某个黎明向有罪之人打开，这种有罪之人的出现是天赐；对一切事物（除了纯粹的生活激情）都表现出不可思议的冷漠——死亡与荒谬明显是唯一的理性自由之准则。这是人心可以经历与体验的。这是另一个结果。荒谬之人于是发现了一个炽热而寒冷、透明而有限的宇宙，这里没有可能性，一切都是已知的，而在这之外不外乎崩塌与虚无。然后他便可以决定是接受这样一个宇宙，还是从中提取自己的力量、对希望的否定，以及一种无慰藉生活的不屈的明晰性。

但是在这样一个宇宙生活意味着什么呢？目前来看只意味着对未来的冷漠，耗尽一切已知事物的欲望。对生活意义的信念总会包含一种价值等级、一种选择以及我们的偏好。根据我们的定义，相信荒谬会得出相反的结论，但这是值得检验的。

我的一切兴趣所在就是知道人能否毫无诉求地生活。我不想力所不能及。生活的这一面正向我展开，我能适应吗？面对这一特殊问题，相信荒谬就相当于用体验的数量代替质量。如果我让自己相信生活除了荒谬就没有其他面貌，如果我感到生活的整体平衡取决于自己有意识的反抗与生活挣扎其中的黑暗间的永久对立，如果我承认我的自由若不涉及其有限的命运便毫无意义，那么我必须说，重要的不是活得最好，而是活得最多。至于这是粗俗的或恶心的，优雅的或可悲的，我都没有义务去担心。在此我们彻底弃价值判断而取事实判断，而我只需从所见中得出结论，不冒任何假设的风险。如果说用这种方式生活是不体面的，那么真正的得体会要求我不体面。

活得最多；从最广泛的意义上看，这种规则毫无意义。它需要定义，似乎数量的概念没有得到充分探索这一事实可作为开端，因为它可以解释人们的大部分体验。一个人的行为规则与他的价值等级是毫无意义的，除非经历了自己长期积累的体验之数量与种类。如今，现代生活条件让大部分人都有了相同数量的体验，以及由此带来的相同的深刻体验。当然，还必须考虑到个体自发的贡献，其自身的“已知”元素。但是我不能对此做出评判，我重申，此处我的规则就是处理最直接的明晰性。于是我明白了，一种普遍道德规范的个体特征与其说在于其基础原则理想中的重要性，不如说在于一种无法衡量的体验标准。把这一点稍微引申一下，希腊人在休闲时也有自己的准则，同我们每天八小时的工作准则一样。然而许多非常悲剧的角色已让我预见到，更长的体验会改变这种价值表。他们让我们想象，日常生活中的探险者只通过体验的数量便能打破所有纪录（我有意采用了这一体育用语），并会因此赢得自己的道德准则。[40]但我们还是避免浪漫主义，直截了当问自己，对于一个决心打赌并仔细观察自认的游戏规则的人来说，这样一种立场意味着什么。

打破所有纪录首先就意味着尽可能频繁地面对这个世界。没有矛盾与文字游戏，这如何能完成呢？因为一方面，荒谬告诉我们，所有体验都无关紧要；另一方面，荒谬又鼓励最大数量的体验。人怎么就不能像我之前提到的那些人一样选择带给我们最具可能性的人性问题的生活形式，因而引入一种价值等级——那种他在另一方面声称要摒弃的价值等级呢？

然而给我们以启发的还是荒谬及其充满矛盾的生活。因为有种错误的观点认为如果体验的数量只取决于我们的话，那么它会取决于我们的生活境况。这里我们必须简之又简。对于两个度过等量岁月的人，世界总会提供等量的体验，我们有责任对之保持清醒。最大限度地了解一个人的生活、反抗、自由，便是最大限度的生活。清醒在哪里占了上风，哪里的价值等级就会变得无用。我们不妨更简化一点。我们说，有待改善的唯一阻碍、唯一缺陷产生于早亡。因此在荒谬之人的眼中（即使他想这么做），没有任何深度、感情、激情和牺牲可以把一段四十年的意识生活等同于一个贯穿六十年的清晰性。[41]对他而言，疯狂与死亡是无法弥补的。人们不做选择。因此荒谬及荒谬所包含的额外生活不依赖于人的意志，而依赖于相反面——死亡。[42]仔细权衡这些语句，这只是一个运气问题。人得要能够赞同这一点。二十年的生活与体验永远都不会有替代品。

然而希腊如此警觉的民族居然声称，那些早亡之人是众神的宠儿，这未免显得前后不一。如果你愿意相信，进入这样一个荒谬的众神世界就相当于永远失去了最纯粹的快乐——感觉，在人间的感觉，那么他们的话就是真的。现在，以及在持续清醒的灵魂面前接二连三的现在，是荒谬之人的理想。但理想这个词在这种联系中听起来不合适，这甚至都算不上他的使命，只是其推理的第三个结果。关于荒谬的思索始于对非人性的一种痛苦的意识，在其行程的最后它又回到了人性反抗的激情火焰之心。[43]

所以我从荒谬中推导出三个结果：我的反抗，我的自由，以及我的激情。我只通过保持清醒便将一种死亡的诱惑转化为一种生活准则——我拒绝自杀。当然，我也知道在这些日子里的单调的共振，但我只有一句话要说：那是必不可少的。尼采写道：“很明显，不论在天堂还是人间，最重要的就是绝对服从，并在一个方向坚持到底：从长远来看会产生一些值得费力生活在这个世上的事物，诸如美德、艺术、音乐、舞蹈、理性、精神——这些事物可以产生改观，它们精美、疯狂，或者神圣。”他以此阐明了一种真正卓越的道德规范，但他同样指明了荒谬之人的道路。服从于激情是最容易也是最困难的事情，但是人不时自我评判对自己是有好处的，只有他自己能做到这一点。

“祷告，”阿兰[44]说，“就是夜晚降临在思想之上。”神秘主义者和存在主义者回应道：“但是精神必须与夜晚相会。”这没错，然而精神为投入其中而唤起的，并非那个单凭个人意愿就出现在眼皮底下的夜晚——那个黑暗而无法穿透的夜晚。如果说它必须际会一个夜晚的话，那么就让它是绝望的夜晚——极夜，精神不眠，这样还能保持清醒，由此或许还能诞生纯洁、发白的光亮，从而勾勒出思智灯下每一个对象。从这一层次上说，对等邂逅了充满激情的智慧。如此来看，这甚至已不再是对存在学上的跨跃进行评判的问题了，而是又呈现出人性立场的那种古董面貌。对于观众而言，假使他是清醒的，那么跨跃依旧是荒谬的。若它自认可以解决悖论，那么它便会回复到完好状态。在这一点上，它是鼓舞人心的。在这一点上，一切都各归各位，这个荒谬的世界也得到了重生，恢复了往日的壮丽与多姿。

然而，阻止所有精神力量中或许最细微的一种是糟糕的，只用一种方式去看难以收到满意的效果，也很难不产生矛盾。以上只是对一种思考方式的定义，而重点是去生活。

[1]此处是基于真理的相对价值的观点。而另一方面，从男子气概的角度来看，对于此学者的软弱我们大可以付诸一笑。

[2]荷马史诗中的特洛伊王子，他骗走希腊斯巴达王墨涅拉奥斯的美貌妻子海伦，引发了特洛伊战争。——译者注

[3]西班牙作家塞万提斯所著小说《堂·吉诃德》中的主人公。——译者注

[4]在此不应忘记本书的论述是有相对性的。实际上，自杀可能会与更高尚的事件有关。例如，在中国革命中所谓的持不同政见者的政治自杀。

[5]尼采（1844—1900），德国哲学家、诗人，唯意志论的主要代表，创立“权力意志说”和“超人哲学”。——译者注

[6]陀思妥耶夫斯基的小说《群魔》中的主人公。——译者注

[7]我曾听说有一个贝尔格里诺斯的效仿者，是个战后作家，他完成第一本书后就自杀了，为的是引起人们对其著作的关注。关注的确引来了，但是书还是没被看好。

[8]阿瑟·叔本华（1788—1860），德国哲学家，唯意志论的创始人，认为意志是人的生命的基础，也是整个世界的内在本性，著有《意志和表象的世界》、《论自然界的意志》等。——译者注

[9]卡尔·雅斯培（1883—1969），20世纪德国的存在哲学大师。——译者注

[10]马丁·海德格尔（1889—1976），德国哲学家，在现象学、存在主义、解构主义、诠释学、后现代主义、政治理论、心理学及神学领域都有举足轻重的影响。——译者注

[11]这里所取并非荒谬的原意。这不是定义，而是对可能包含荒谬的诸多感情的一种罗列。并且，这种罗列有穷尽时，而荒谬却无法尽言。

[12]指萨特的小说《恶心》。——译者注

[13]巴门尼德（公元前515—前450？），古希腊哲学家，爱利亚学派创始人，认为思想与存在是同一的、无生灭的、不动的、单一的，著有用诗体写成的哲学著作《论自然》，现仅存残篇。——译者注

[14]语出尼采《查拉图斯特拉如是说》第三部中“日出之前”一节。超人将万物从理性的绝对精神控制下解放出来，让偶然重新成为主宰。——译者注

[15]索伦·克尔凯郭尔（1813—1855），丹麦宗教哲学心理学家、诗人，现代存在主义哲学的创始人，后现代主义的先驱。——译者注

[16]卡尔·西奥多·雅斯贝尔斯（1883—1969），德国存在主义哲学家、神学家、精神病学家。——译者注

[17]列夫·舍斯托夫（1866—1938），俄国思想家、哲学家。——译者注

[18]马克斯·舍勒（1874—1928），德国哲学家和社会学家，哲学人类学的主要代表。——译者注

[19]康德（1724—1804），德国哲学家、德国古典唯心主义哲学创始人，主张自在之物不可知，人类知识是有限度的，提出星云假说。——译者注

[20]源于古希腊神话。阿里阿德涅是克里特岛上的公主，她为帮助心爱之人忒修斯杀掉迷宫中的米诺牛，解救雅典，交给他一只线团，引他破解了迷宫。这个线团称为阿里阿德涅之线，是忒修斯在迷宫中的生命之线。——译者注

[21]陀思妥耶夫斯基（1821—1881），俄国作家，其作品反映“小人物”的痛苦，人物异化心理刻划入微，主要作品有《白痴》、《罪与罪》、《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》等。——译者注

[22]西班牙传奇中的一个浪荡子，屡见于西方诗歌、戏剧中。——译者注

[23]埃德蒙德·胡塞尔（1859—1938），德国哲学家，20世纪现象学学派创始人。——译者注

[24]马赛尔·普鲁斯特（1871—1922），法国小说家，其创作强调生活的真实和人物的内心，以长篇小说《追忆逝水年华》闻名。——译者注

[25]巴鲁克·斯宾诺莎（1632—1677），后改名为贝内迪特·斯宾诺莎（Benedictus Spinoza），荷兰哲学家，西方近代哲学史重要的欧陆理性主义者，与法国的笛卡尔和德国的莱布尼茨齐名。——译者注

[26]有关特例的概念，是反对亚里士多德的。

[27]依格那丢·罗耀拉（1491—1556），西班牙人，是罗马天主教耶稣会的创始人，也是圣人之一。他在罗马天主教内进行改革，以对抗由马丁·路德等人所领导的基督新教宗教改革。——译者注

[28]可能有人认为这里我忽略了本质问题——信仰问题。但我并不是在检验克尔凯郭尔的哲学，或者舍斯托夫的哲学，再或者后面谈到的胡塞尔的哲学（那将需要一个不同的场合与一个不同的思想立场）；我只是从他们那里借来一个主题，并检验一下其结果是否适合于已确立的规则。这只是一个坚持问题。

[29]加里亚尼（1728—1787），意大利外交家、经济学家和作家。——译者注

[30]法国文化名流，常主持沙龙汇集知识分子，与卢梭、狄德罗和格里姆等名人交往甚密。——译者注

[31]我并不是说“排除上帝”，这么说仍等同于肯定。

[32]我再声明一次：这里质疑的并非是对上帝的肯定，而是这种肯定的逻辑。

[33]亨利·柏格森（1859—1941），法国哲学家，文笔优美，思想富于吸引力，曾获诺贝尔文学奖。——译者注

[34]即使是最严格的认识论也设定了形而上学的方法。正是从这点上讲，很多当代思想家的形而上学就在于没有他物，却拥有一种认识论。

[35]巴门尼德（约公元前515年—前5世纪中叶以后）是一位诞生在爱利亚（南部意大利沿岸的希腊城市）的古希腊哲学家，他第一次提出了“思想与存在是同一的”命题。——译者注

[36]普罗提诺（205—270），罗马帝国时代的希腊哲学家，新柏拉图主义奠基人。——译者注

[37]A——在那个时候，理性要么适应，要么就得消失。它选择了适应。在普罗提诺看来，变得有逻辑以后就会变得有了审美。隐喻取代了三段论法。

B——而且，这并非普罗提诺对现象学的唯一贡献。这一整体思想立场已包含在概念中，亚历山大时代的思想家对之极为钟爱，以致不仅有关于人的观点，也有关于苏格拉底的观点。

[38]希腊神话中的人物，歌手俄耳浦斯之妻，新婚夜被蟒蛇杀死，其夫以歌喉打动冥王，冥王准许她回生，但要求其夫在引她回阳世的路上不得回头看她，其夫夫能做到，结果她仍被抓回到阴间。——译者注

[39]我所关注的是一种事实上的对比，而非一种谦逊的勉强替代品。荒谬之人与妥协之人是相对立的。

[40]有时数量构成质量。倘若最近重新阐释的科学理论可信，那么所有物质都是由能量中心构成的，其数量的多少决定其特性是否突出。10亿个离子与1个离子的差异不仅在数量上，也在质量上。从人类的经历中找到一个类似例子很容易。

[41]同样的思考也适用于与永久虚无状态这一观念一样有差别的一个概念。它既不从现实中索取，也不为其贡献。在虚无状态的心理学体验上，我们自己的虚无状态只有考虑到2000年之后所发生的事才能真正拥有意义。从其某一个方面来看，永久的虚无状态正是由将来的一定量生活构成，那些生活不属于我们。

[42]这里的意志只是施动者：意在保持清醒。它提供了一种生活的准则，可以察觉得到。

[43]重要的是一致性。我们在这里从接受世界出发，但是东方思想教导我们，人通过选择反对世界而能够沉溺于同样的逻辑尝试。这个同样合理，并给予了本文的视角和限度。然而当同样严格程度地追求世界的否定时，诸如关于作品的无差别性，人们常常（用某些吠陀派的说法）获得同样的结果。在一部重要的著作——《选择》中，让·格勒尼埃以这种方式确立了名副其实的“无差别哲学”。（吠陀（Veda）是印度最古老的宗教文献和文学作品的总称。——译者注）

[44]阿兰（1868—1951），法国现象学家，受德国现象学家胡塞尔影响很大。——译者注

荒谬的人

如果斯塔夫罗金信教，他不认为他信教。

如果他不信教，他不认为他不信教。

——陀思妥耶夫斯基《群魔》

歌德[1]说：“我的领地，就是时间。”这实在是荒谬的言论。荒谬的人其实是什么样的？他做事不求永恒，他自己也不否认这一点，他对怀旧并不陌生，但更偏爱自己的勇气与推理。勇气教他在生活中不求人，珍惜所拥有的东西；推理让他清楚自己的界限。他确信，他的自由短暂而有限，他的反抗没有未来，对于生死也已经觉悟，于是在有生之年他要实践自己的冒险旅程。这便是他的领地，这便是他的行动，对此他不会接受来自他人的任何评判。对他而言，一种更伟大的生活并不意味着另一种生活。这是不公平的。我所谈的甚至也不是那种无价值的永生，也就是人们所说的香火长传。罗兰夫人[2]的依靠是自己，而这一鲁莽行为也得了教训。其后人非常乐意引用她的言论，但却忘了对之加以判断。罗兰夫人对后人保持一种冷漠的态度。

我们不可能对道德规范进行长篇大论。我见过大德之人行为不端，平常也注意到，没有必要为正直诚实设立规范。只有一种道德规范可以为荒谬所接受，它是与上帝分不开的：由上帝口授的命令。可是碰巧他的生活中没有上帝。至于其他的（我指的是非道德主义），荒谬之人除了正当理由什么也没发现，而他不需要理由去证明什么。这里我就从保证其无辜的原则谈起。

这种无辜是可怕的。伊凡·卡拉马佐夫[3]宣称：“一切都是被允许的”，这同样有点荒谬的味道，但前提是用一种庸俗的观念去看待它。我不知是否已充分说明：这并非一种解脱或喜悦的发泄，而是对一个事实痛苦的承认。一个确定的上帝赋予生命以一种意义，它在吸引力上远远超过了可使恶行免受惩罚的能力。选择不难做，可是没有选择，这时痛苦便来了。荒谬不会释放，而是要束缚，它不会允许所有的行为。一切都被允许不意味着一切都不被禁止。荒谬仅仅是为那些行为的结果找到一种等价物。它并不支持犯罪，因为那将很幼稚，但他再一次承认了悔恨是无用的。同样，倘若所有的生活经历都是无差异的，那么关于责任的经历就会和其他经历一样合理。做一个有道德的人只是一闪之念。

一切道德体系都建立在这一观点上，即一种行为的结果或者使这种行为合乎情理，或者抵消这种行为。一个被灌输以荒谬的头脑只会判断要冷静思考那些结果，做好了偿还债务的准备。换句话说，在这种观点看来，负责的人可能是有的，但却没了有罪之人。这种思想最多会把过去的经验作为将来行动的基础。时间拖延时间，生活为生活服务。在这个充满可能性的有限领地，他自身的一切，除了清醒的头脑，在他看来都是不可预见的。那么，从这种不理性的秩序中，又能生发出什么规则呢？似乎对他有益的唯一真理并非形式上的：真理开始形成，便在人们身上发生作用。在推理的最后，荒谬的头脑可以预见的不是道德准则，而是对人们生活的阐释与人们生活的精神支柱。以下几个人物形象都属于这种类型，他们对荒谬的推理表现出一种特定的立场，并投入了自己的热情，以此拖延荒谬的推理。

一个范例并一定要去效仿（在荒谬的世界甚至更是如此），因而下面要举的例子也并非典范。我是否还需要对这种观点加以阐释呢？为此需要某种使命感，除此之外，在考虑周全的情况下，如果人们从卢梭[4]的思想里得出人要爬行，从尼采的思想里得出人要虐待自己的母亲，那势必是荒唐可笑的。一位当代作家写道：“荒谬是必要的，而受骗不是必要的。”[5]我将要论述的立场只有考虑到它们的对立面，才能保证其意义周全。邮局工作的小职员与帝王将相是平等的，只要他们都有觉悟。在这一点上，所有生活经历都是无差别的，其中有的对人有利，有的有害。如果是有意识的人，那么就会对他有利，否则便无关紧要了：一个人的失败在于对自身的评判，而非对环境的评判。

我所选择的人物，都只有一个目的——消耗自己，或者我认为他们在消耗自己。这不牵扯深层含义。此刻我只想谈论一个思想、生活在其中都没有未来的世界。促使人们工作与兴奋的任何事情都要用到希望，因而只有无效的思想才不是虚假的。在这个荒谬的世界，一个观念或一种生活的价值要由其无效性来衡量。

唐璜主义

如果只要爱就够了，那么事情就太简单了。一个人爱得越多，荒谬就越多。唐璜找了一个又一个女人，不是因为缺少爱。把他描写成一个追求真爱的神秘主义者真是太可笑了。但的确是因为他把同样的热情投入每一份爱，每次都是全身心投入，他才一定要重复利用这份天赋，不断穷追猛打。因此每个女人都希望给予他没人给过他的东西，可每次她们都大错特错了，只能让他感觉到对这种重复的需求。“终于，”其中一个女人大呼，“我把爱给了你。”唐璜付诸一笑，“终于？不，”他说，“只是又一次。”我们还会惊讶于此吗？如果不是为了得到更多的爱，那么爱还有什么必要呢？

唐璜忧郁吗？不可能。我不会去参考那些传说。他的笑，那种征服者的傲慢、那种玩世不恭，还有对剧院的钟爱都清楚明白，充满欢乐。所有健康的生灵都想自我复制，唐璜也不例外。而忧郁的人之所以忧郁是因为：他们不知道，或者他们有希望。唐璜知道，他也没有希望。他让我们联想起那些明白自身局限的艺术家，他们从不脱离他们的圈子，而且在那个表明自己精神立场的不靠谱的间隙，他们享受作主人的美妙与悠闲。这的确是非凡的才能：一种知道自身局限的智慧。直到生命的尽头，唐璜对忧郁仍是一无所知。在他知道的那一刻，他放声大笑，笑声让人原谅了一切。当他有希望的时候，他是忧郁的。现在，从那个女人的口中，他尝到了这唯一知道的事情带给自己的苦涩与安慰。苦涩？不过是：让幸福被察觉到的必要瑕疵。

如果试图把唐璜看成是依据《传道书》培养出来的人，那就大错特错了。因为在他眼里，除了对另一种生活的希望外没有任何东西是虚空的。他之所以证明了这一点，是因为他用那另一种生活来赌天堂。渴求欲望，得到满足之后欲望便终止，这种无能之人的共性不属于他。对于笃信上帝而把自己出卖给魔鬼的浮士德[6]来说，这没什么。对唐璜来说，事情就更简单了。莫利纳[7]的“骗子”每次受到进地狱的威胁时，总是回答：“你给我的缓期太长了！”死后之事都是那么的没有意义，而那些知道如何活着的人，又有多么漫长的岁月在等着他啊！浮士德渴求世间的美好；这个可怜人要做的只是伸出手。当他无法得到满足时，就相当于在出卖自己的灵魂了。说到满足，唐璜恰恰相反，他坚持要满足。如果他离开一个女人，绝对不是因为他不再爱她了，漂亮的女人总是勾人欲望的。只是他又对另一个产生了欲望，而这不是同一件事，不是的。

这样的生活满足了他的每个愿望，没有比失去这种生活更糟糕的了。这个狂人是个大智者。但是靠希望生活的人不会在这个宇宙得势，在这里，仁慈要屈从于慷慨，爱慕要屈从于强大的沉默，同舟共济要屈从于个人英雄主义。而大家都匆匆下结论说：“他是一个懦夫、一个理想主义者，或者一个圣人。”人们必须贬低那些无礼的伟大。

人们受够了（或者露出同谋者的微笑，从而降低那种欣赏的成分）唐璜的演说，还有他用在所有女人身上的同一套话。但对于追求快乐数量的人来说，唯一要紧的是效力问题。如果各种口令都经受住了考验，那还有什么必要使之复杂化呢？无论男女，没有人去听从这些口令，他们听的是发出这些口令的声音。这些口令是规则、惯例，也是礼貌。发出这些口令后，最重要的还没完成，唐璜已为此做好了准备。他为何要给自己提出一个道德上的问题呢？他不像米洛兹[8]剧中的马纳拉，因为渴望成为圣人而诅咒自己。地狱在他看来是一件需要被激发的东西。对于神灵的愤怒他只有一种回答，这就是人的荣耀。“我有荣耀，”他对骑士长[9]说，“我会遵守我的诺言，因为我是一个骑士。”可是如果把他当作一个伤风败俗之人，就又大错了。在这一方面，他“和其他人一样”：他有自己好恶的道德准则。要正确认识唐璜，只能不断参照通常他所代表的形象：平平常常的引诱者，处处拈花惹草。他是一个普通的引诱者，[10]其不同之处只在于他是有意识的，这就是为什么说他是荒谬的。尽管如此，一个清醒的引诱者不会有所改变，引诱是他的生活状态。只有小说里的人才会改变生活状态，或是让生活得到改观。但也可以说什么也没有改变，同时一切都转变了。唐璜付诸行动的是一种数量上的道德标准，而圣人则青睐于质量。不相信事物的深层含义，是荒谬之人的专属。至于那些热诚或者令人称羡的面庞，他会投以目光，加以储存，但并不有所停留。时间与她们并进，而荒谬之人与时间不可分割。唐璜没有想要“收集”女人，他穷尽了她们的数量，与此一起耗尽的还有他生活中的可能性。“收集”就等于是依靠自己的过去生活。但他反对懊悔，这是希望的另一种形式。翻看照片不是他能做出来的事情。

尽管如此，他是自私的吗？以他的行为方式来看或许是的，但这里我们也有必要相互理解一下。有的人是为生活而生，有的人是为爱而生。至少唐璜倾向于这种说法。但他可能会长话短说成，他有能力去选择。因为我们这里所说的爱穿着永恒的幻衣。正如所有情感专家教导我们的，只有受到挫折的爱情才能成为永恒，几乎没有一帆风顺的爱情。这样一种爱只有在最后的矛盾——死亡——到来时才会终结。人应该要么成为维特[11]，要么什么也不是。而自杀的方式也有很多，其中之一就是全力付出与忘我。唐璜和其他人一样，知道这会带来不平静，但他又是知道这事无关紧要的少数几人之一。他还知道，那些出于一种伟大的爱而忽视个人生活的人或许是充实自己，但必定也让自己爱的人一无所有。一位母亲或一位感情热烈的妻子必定有一颗封闭的心，因为那颗心已背离了这个世界。一份感情、一个人、一张面孔，这一切都被吞食了。搅扰唐璜的是一份很不同的爱，这份爱随心所欲。它有着世上所有的面貌特征，它知道自己不能永生，于是还带着颤抖。唐璜选择成为一无是处。

对他来说，这一问题就是把眼睛擦亮。我们把爱看成将我们与其他生灵联结在一起的东西，凭借的只是一种共同的看问题方式，而这便促成了各种书籍与传奇的诞生。然而关于爱，我只知道那种欲望、爱慕以及智慧的混合体，它把我和这个或那个生灵联系在一起。这种复合物因人而异，我无权把同一名下的全部体验都涵盖进来，这就避免了人们的行为方式千篇一律。荒谬的人此时便会将他无法统一的东西加倍复制，于是他发现了一种新的存在方式，这种方式解放了他自己，也解放了那些靠近他的人。没有高贵的爱，只有自知短命而独特的爱。所有那些死亡与重生如花束般聚集到一起，偿还了唐璜的余生，这便是他付出与活跃的方式。请读者自己判断这能否叫做自私。

我想到了那些坚持要惩罚唐璜的人，他们认为他不仅应在来世受罚，即便在今世也应受罚。我想起了那些关于老年唐璜的故事、传说，还有笑话。对于一个有意识的人来说，衰老以及衰老的附带品都不足为奇。的确，他并没有无视衰老的恐怖，只有在这一点上，他才是有意识的。雅典有一座专为老年而建的庙宇，孩子们会被带到那里。唐璜认为，嘲笑他的人越多，他的形象就越突出。因此他拒绝接受那些浪漫主义者为他塑造的形象。没有人愿意去嘲笑饱受折磨、惹人怜悯的唐璜。他是被同情的；天堂能拯救他吗？但情况并非如此。在这个被唐璜瞥了一眼的宇宙里，荒唐也包含其中。他会认为受惩戒是正常的，这是游戏规则。他典型的贵族表现就是接受所有的游戏规则，但他知道自己是对的，不可能会受罚。命运不是一种惩罚。

这是他所犯的罪，而要理解上帝的子民为何要惩罚他再容易不过了。他获得一种没有幻觉的认识，这种认识否定了那些人的所有信仰。爱和占有，征服和消耗——这就是他的认识方式。（圣经中将这种肉体行为称作“知道”，圣书偏爱这个词是有意义的。）作为那些人最坏的敌人，他是无视他们的。一位编年史学家说真正的“骗子”死于法兰西斯派[12]的暗杀，该派想“结束生来便被赋予免罚权的唐璜那放肆和亵渎的行为”。之后他们宣称是上帝将他击倒，这一离奇的结局没有人去证明，也没有人去推翻。但是如果有这种可能性，那么我可以不加质疑地说这是符合逻辑的。在这一点上我只想把“生来”一词单挑出来推敲一下：正是生活这一事实确保了他的无辜。正是从死亡那里他获取了现在已成为传说的罪恶。

那个骑士长石像被用来惩罚敢于思想的血肉与勇气，那么它又有什么代表意义呢？秩序、永恒的理性，以及普遍道义的所有能量，一个喜怒无常的上帝让人感到陌生的所有伟大，都集合到他的身上。这个没有灵魂的巨石象征的只是唐璜永远都否定的力量。但该骑士长的任务仅止于此。雷电会回归到那个仿造的天国，也就是它们被唤起的地方。真正的悲剧在发生时离它们很远。不，唐璜不是死在一个石头的手上。我倾向于相信那故弄玄虚的传说，相信那引出一个并不存在的上帝的常人失去理智的笑声。然而我尤为相信，那个晚上，当唐璜在安娜住所等待时，骑士长没有出现，午夜过后，这个亵渎神灵之徒必定感受到了那些正人君子的可怕的痛苦。关于其生平，我更愿意接受，他最终被葬于一个修道院的说法，但关于这个故事给人的启示意义就不太可信了。他能向上帝要求什么庇护呢？但这却代表了一种荒谬生活的合理结果、一种追求短命快乐的悲惨结局。在这一点上，肉体上的享乐终结于禁欲主义。必须认识到，或许可以说，它们是同一种命运的两个方面。一个人被自己的躯体出卖，只因没有及时死去，所以在生命终结之前，他的生活一直是喜剧，而与那个不被自己崇拜的上帝面对面，像待奉生活那样侍奉他，屈膝于虚无，手伸向一个明知没有雄辩术也没有深度的天国，我们还能想到比这更恐怖的形象吗？

我看到唐璜栖身于西班牙一个被遗弃于山顶的修道院的一间净室内。倘若他有所思，思考的不会是其旧爱的幽灵，或许——透过阳光烘烤的墙上的一条窄缝——是某个沉寂的西班牙平原，一方高贵而没有灵魂的土地，在那里他认清了自己。没错，伴着这个忧郁而灿烂的画面，幕布应该拉下来了。结局，我们等待但绝不期待，结局是可以忽略不计的。

戏　剧

哈姆雷特说：“演戏就是重要的事，凭借它我将抓住国王的意识。”就是这个词，抓住，因为意识动作迅速，或者还会退缩，所以必须在它行进时下手，在它匆匆扫视自己的当口抓住它，那时不易被察觉。庸人都不爱拖延，所有事都在催着他往前走，但与此同时，除了他自己，特别是自己的潜能，什么事也提不起他的兴趣。由此他对戏剧、对表演产生了兴趣，这为他展现了那么多的命运，他可以在感觉不到悲伤的情况下体味诗意。至少这里可以看到没有思想的人，而他继续匆匆地奔向某个希望或其他什么东西。荒谬之人的起点在他人离开的地方，在停止欣赏戏剧的头脑欲进入的地方。进入那些生活，体验它们的多姿多彩，就等于是把它们演绎出来。我并不是说演员一般都会服从于那种冲动，也不是说他们都是荒谬之人，而是说他们的命运是一种荒谬的命运，可能会让一颗冷静的心陶醉、沉迷。为使读者在理解以下内容时不至于产生误解，有必要先作此说明。

演员的生命是转瞬即逝的。在已知的所有名声中，演员的名声最为短暂。然而所有名声都很短暂。从天狼星的角度看，歌德的作品在一万年后将化成尘埃，他的名字也将被遗忘。或许一批考古学家还会为我们这个时代寻找“证据”来证明它的存在。这一观点总会包含教育意义。认真思考这一观点后，我们对于冷漠之中深远的高贵，会减少一些不安情绪。最重要的是，它把我们的注意力移向了最确定之事，即最直接之事。在所有的名声中，欺骗性最小的要属已被验证过的名声。

因此，演员选择了多样的名声，这名声已被神圣化，并经受了考验。一切事物终将消亡，他从这一事实做出了最佳判断。一个演员或成功，或不成功。一个作家即使不被赏识，也有某种希望，他可以用自己的作品见证自己的过去。演员最多留给我们一张照片，关于他的过去——他的姿态、他的沉默、他对爱的汲汲渴望，我们将一无所知。对他来说，不为人知就是不演戏，而不演戏就是和他曾赋予生命或唤醒的角色一同死去，多达百次。

我们为何要讶异于最短暂生命基础之上的昙花一现的名声呢？演员有三个小时的时间去做埃古[13]、阿尔切斯特、费德尔或格洛斯特，在这段很短的时间内，他让这些角色有了生命，最后又倒在这五十码的舞台上。荒谬从来没有被这么详尽地论述过。除了这些令人赞叹的生命，这些在几个小时内在一个小舞台上展现的卓越而完整的命运，我们还能想象出更有启示性的典范吗？下了台，西基斯蒙德[14]不再是西基斯蒙德。两小时后你可能就看到他出去吃饭了。那么或许，生活就是一场梦。但西基斯蒙德之后还有后来人。在不确定性中煎熬的英雄人物取代了那个为复仇而咆哮的人。因而演员驰骋过几个世纪，演绎过无数角色，在模拟别人或展现自我的过程中，与另一个荒谬个体——游客有了很多共性。和他一样，游客也耗尽了某些东西，并且还在不断前进。他是时间中的游客，或最多是被追捕的游客，被灵魂追逐着。数量上的道德观若要找到赖以存在的基础，那么肯定是这个奇怪的台子。很难说演员在多大程度上受益于角色，但这是无关紧要的，问题只在于，要知道自己和这些不可替代的角色有多大关联。他经常随身带着这些角色，而这些角色则超越了它们出现的时空界限，与这个无法把自己和一直以来所演的角色轻易分开的人结伴同行。有时拿一个杯子，他会用哈姆雷特的姿势举起杯子。他与自己注入生命的角色之间，距离并不遥远，绝不。他每个月或每一天都在充分阐释这一内含深意的事实，即一个人想要成为的人与他自己之间没有界限。他总是关心如何更好地去展现，阐释在多大程度上表象构成了存在。因为这就是他的艺术——十足的模仿，把自己尽可能深地投入另一种生活。努力到最后，他的使命便明晰了：全心致力于一无所是，或者分饰多角。塑造角色时所受的限制越小，就越需要发挥他的才智。在今天佩戴的面具下，他或许能活三个小时。在这三个小时内，他会体验，并且表现一种独特生活的全貌。这就叫迷失自己以发现自我。在这三个小时内，他走完了这条死胡同的全程，而坐在观众席上的人却要花一生才能走完这段路。

在对这种短暂生活的模仿上，演员只在表面上训练并完善自己。戏剧表演的惯例是，通过姿态与肢体来表现和传达内心世界——或者通过内在与外在的声音，二者不分轻重。这种艺术的规则就是，把一切都夸大并用身体语言表现出来。倘若在舞台上爱一个人就必须真心去爱，说话必须用心里那个独一无二的声音，看东西时必须像人们在生活中那样凝视，那么我们的讲话就成了暗语。这时沉默就必须派上用场。爱的声音越大，静默就更加壮观。身体就是国王。不是每个人都能“表演”，这一词语被不公正地丑化了，它包含一种完整的美学和一种完整的道德观。人的一半生命都用在暗示、背离和沉默上，而演员成了入侵者。他要打破束缚灵魂的魔咒，激情才能冲上它们的舞台。他们的语言表现在每个姿态中，他们只有通过大喊大叫才能生活，所以说演员塑造自己的角色就是为了展示。他描绘或刻画他们，一下子穿上为他们虚构的外衣，并为他们的幻象输入自己的血液。当然，我所指的是伟大的戏剧，可以使演员借机实现自己完全的物质命运的那种戏剧。以莎士比亚为例，在其冲动横行的剧中，身体的激情推动着剧情的发展，可以用以解释所有事情。没有了这些激情，一切都要烟消云散。若没有流放考荻利娅[15]和惩处爱德伽[16]的粗暴行为，李尔王永远也不会坚守那源自疯狂的约定。此后悲剧的展开便充斥着那种疯狂，灵魂都给了恶魔及其萨拉邦德舞。这出戏至少有四个疯子：一个由于交易，一个出自意愿，还有两个是遭受了苦难——四个错乱的身躯，一种状态的四个方面，不可言传。

光靠人的肢体还不够，面具和厚底靴，减弱或强调面部本来特征的化装，起夸张或简化作用的服饰——在这个宇宙里所作的一切牺牲都是为了表象，只是为眼睛服务。身体通过一种荒谬的奇迹同样可以获得认识。如果我不扮演埃古这个角色，我永远也不会真正理解这个人。光听他说话是不够的，因为我只有在看见他的时候才能了解他。演员最后会从荒谬的角色中感到乏味，那是一种单一的、让人感到压抑的黑色轮廓，既陌生又熟悉，要跟着他从一个角色到另一个角色。同样伟大的戏剧作品可以促成这种格调的一致性，[17]这正是演员的自我矛盾之处：一模一样而又千姿百态，那么多的灵魂汇集到一个身体里。然而这便是荒谬的矛盾本身：那想得到一切、经历一切的个体，那毫无价值的尝试，那无效的坚持。自我矛盾的事物总会与他相结合，正是在这时，他的身心合二为一，而已厌倦了挫败的精神转向它最忠实的同盟。哈姆雷特说，“能够把感情和理智调和得那么适当，命运也无法将他玩弄于股掌之间，这样的人是有福的。”

教会怎能不去谴责演员的这样一种行为呢？她否认了这种艺术复制灵魂的异端行为、情感上的道德败坏，以及对精神的侮辱性假设，这种假设反对只过一种生活，致力于各种形式的过火行为。她还禁止他们偏爱当下时光，阻止普罗特斯[18]的胜利，它们对其所有教诲都加以否定。永恒不是一种游戏。愚蠢到喜欢喜剧胜过喜欢永恒的人已经没救了。在“到处”与“永远”之间没有中间道路，由此这一备受毁谤的职业会引起一场激烈的精神论战。“要紧的，”尼采说，“不是永生，而是永乐。”实际上，所有的戏剧都是在这种选择之中。

阿德里亚娜·莱科芙露尔[19]临终时很想忏悔并与上帝相通，但拒绝放弃自己的职业，于是她没有得到忏悔的好处。这实质上不也等同于宁可选择无法抗拒的热情也不要上帝吗？而这个临终饱受痛苦的女人，含着热泪拒绝割舍自己口中的艺术，明明白白地表现出她在舞台灯光前永远也没有达到的一种伟大。这是她扮演过的最佳角色，也是最难演的一个。在上帝与一种可笑的忠诚之间作出选择，投身于永恒还是尽忠于上帝，这是自古就有的悲剧，在这场剧中每个人都要扮演自己的角色。

那个时代的演员知道自己被逐出了教会，进入这个职业就等于是选择了地狱。而教会则把他们看作最坏的敌人。有些文学家抗议：“什么！拒绝为莫里哀做临终祈祷！”但这只是针对，特别是针对那些把生命结束在舞台上的人，他们在演员的装束下完成了自己整个被流放的人生。至于莫里哀，他是个天才，于是什么都可以原谅。但是天才又什么都不原谅，因为它拒绝这么做。

这个艺术家当时已经知道了什么样的惩罚在等着他。可是比起生活为他保留的最后惩罚，这种含糊不清的威胁又有何意义呢？前者是他提前就预感到了，并且照单全收的。对于一个演员来说，如同对于荒谬之人一样，早逝是不可避免的。什么都抵偿不了如此多数量的面孔和他穿越过的这么多个世纪。无论如何人终有一死，演员无疑是无所不在的，但席卷而过的时间同样会把他带走，留下的印记中还带有他的痕迹。

只需要一点想象就可以体会到一个演员的命运意味着什么。他正是在时间中塑造并表达着自己的角色，同样是在时间中学着掌控这些角色。体验的不同生活越多，他对之便越淡漠。他终会为了这个世界死在舞台上。曾经历过的就在面前，他看得一清二楚，他感受到这种历险令人痛苦而又不可替代的特质。这些他都知道，现在他可以走了。年老的演员有自己的家园。

征　服

“不，”征服者说，“不要以为我热爱行动我就一定会忘了如何思考。相反，我完全可以确定自己的信念，因为我坚定我的信念，并把它看得清楚明白。有人说，‘我对此太了解了，以至于难以把它表达出来了。’请当心这些人，如果他们做不到那一点，那是因为他们不了解，或者是懒得深入探索。

“我没有多少观点。在生命将要终结的时候，人发现自己花了那么多年时间，只是为了搞明白一个真理。然而如果真理是显见的，那么它足以影响一种存在。关于人体，我倒是有些话要说。而谈到个体，人们一定要直言不讳，必要时还要带上适当的轻蔑。

“比起所言之事，所坚守之事更能凸显人的价值。我所坚守的东西有很多，但我坚定地相信，所有那些评判个体的人，在做这方面工作时凭借的经验——作为其评判基础——比我们要少的多。智慧，那鼓舞人心的智慧或许预见到了须引起注意的东西，然而时代以及时代用事实呈现给我们的毁灭与鲜血，让我们措手不及。对于古老的国度，甚至对于我们机器时代的现代国家而言，有可能去权衡社会美德与个人美德孰轻孰重，并试图发现谁为谁服务。这种可能性有两个原因：首先，人心有一种顽疾，由此人或生来服务别人，或生来被别人服务；其次，社会与个人尚未展露自己的全部能力。

“我知道，许多智慧的头脑对在佛兰德斯[20]战场的血雨腥风中诞生的荷兰画家们的伟大作品大为惊异，对在恐怖的三十年战争[21]中产生的西里西亚[22]神秘主义者的祈祷惊叹不已。永恒的价值面对世俗的纷扰目瞪口呆，却幸免于难，然而自那以后便有了进展。今天的画家已丧失了这种淡定，即使他们拥有创作者需要的基本心理状态，我指的是一颗封闭的心，也无济于事；对于每个人来说，包括圣人，都处于动的状态。这或许就是我感受最深之处。在战壕流产的每一种形式中，在被钢铁压碎的每一个轮廓、隐喻或祈祷中，永恒都输了一局。我意识到不能对自己的时间不闻不问，便决心成为时间不可分割的一部分。这就是我尊重个体的原因，只因他给人的印象是荒唐可笑、丧失尊严的。我知道没有胜利的事业，便爱上了失败的事业：这种事业需要一个未受玷污的灵魂，对其挫败与暂时的胜利一视同仁。对于感到和这个世界的命运息息相关的任何人而言，不同文明之间的交战让人痛苦不堪。在我想要加入这个行列的同时，我便也具有了这种痛苦。在历史与永恒之间，我选择了历史，因为我喜欢确定性。至少我对它感到确信，叫我如何否定这种压迫我的力量？

“总有那么个时候，人必须在思考与行动之间做出选择，谓之成为一个人。这种抉择的痛苦是可怕的，但对于一颗高傲的心来说，没有中间道路可走。要么是上帝，要么是时间；要么是那个十字架，要么是这把剑。这个世界有更高一层的含义，超越了它的烦恼，否则除了这些烦恼便没有真实的东西了。人必须与时间共存亡，要么就得为了一种更伟大的生活而撇开时间。我知道人们可以选择一条折中道路——生活在这个世界上，同时又相信那种永恒，这叫做接受。但我厌恶这种说法，我想得到一切，要么就什么都不要。倘若我选择行动，不要以为我会把思考撇到一边，但它给不了我所有，于是丧失了永恒的我愿与时间为伍。我不想把怀旧或苦难记在账上，我只是想看清楚一些。我告诉你，明天你也要处于动的状态，这对你我都是一种解放。个体什么都做不了，但他又可以做任何事情。在那样一种无所羁绊的绝佳状态，你会理解我为何要在颂扬他的同时立刻又把他打压下去。是世界摧毁了他，而我解放了他。我给了他应有的一切权利。

“征服者知道行动本身毫无益处，只有一种有益的行动，那便是改造人与地球。我永远不会去改造人，但人必须‘煞有介事’地去做。斗争的道路引我找到了肉体，即使失去了尊严，肉体也是我唯一确信的东西，我可以仅靠它生活。人本身就是我的故土，这就是我为何要选择这种荒谬而无效的努力，这就是我为何要支持斗争。正如我所说，这个时代适合于这一点。迄今为止，一个征服者的伟大仍表现在地理上，是由所征服领地的量来衡量的。这个词的意义已发生了改变，不再表示获胜的将领，也是有原因的。伟大已变换了阵营，它体现在抗议以及绝路的牺牲上。同样，这也不是由对失败的偏爱造成的。人们渴望胜利，但只有一种胜利，那便是永恒。这是我永远也得不到的，这是我跌倒的地方，也是我不忍割舍的地方。革命总是针对神明的，普罗米修斯[23]是革命的鼻祖，他是第一位现代征服者。与自己命运过不去的是人自己的需求，穷人的需求只是一个借口。但我只能在它的历史事件中抓住这种精神，我与它在这里相会。然而，不要以为我以此为乐：我维持着自己的人性矛盾，与本质矛盾相对。我的清醒保持在四面树敌的环境中。面对摧毁人的威胁，我高唱对人的赞歌，而我的自由、我的反抗、我的激情悉数进入了这种紧张的关系、这种清醒、这种大量的重复之中。

“没错，人是自己的终点，也是自己唯一的终点。如果他的目标是成为什么，那肯定要在他的生活中实现。我非常了解这一点。征服者们有时会谈到战胜与击败，但他们的意思一直都是‘战胜自己’。你很清楚这意味着什么。某些时候每个人都会感觉自己和神是平等的，至少它是通过这种方式表现出来的。但这缘于一个事实，即他在一闪念间发觉了人思想中惊人的伟大。征服者只是这样一群人，他们十分清楚自己的能力与信心，可以久立高处，也非常明白这种伟大。这只是一个算术问题，一个得多或得少的问题。征服者有能力得的多，但他们最多也只能得到人想得到的范围。所以他们从不离开人的这副皮囊，投入那云谲波诡的革命灵魂。

“他们发现这一生灵受尽残害，但他们同样在这里邂逅了自己所爱慕的仅有的价值：人及其沉默，这既是他们的贫乏又是他们的财富。在此他们只有一种奢侈品：人们之间的感情。在这个脆弱的世界，所有具有人性并只具有人性的东西都包含一种更生动的意义，人怎么能没有意识到这一点呢？紧绷的面孔，濒危的手足情，人们之间这种强烈而纯洁的友谊——这些都是真正的财富，因为它们转瞬即逝。在它们中间，思想非常清楚自己的力量与局限，也就是自己的效力。有的人还说过天才这个词，但天才说起来容易，我偏向于智慧一词。可以说此时智慧是宏伟壮观的，它照亮了这个沙漠，并在此确立了自己的统治地位。它知道自己的责任，并一一加以阐释。它与这个躯体同生共死，但知道这一点它便是自由的。

“所有教会都反对我们，我们无法忽视这一事实，一颗紧张的心逃避永恒，而所有的教会，不论是神圣的还是政治的，都声称对永恒拥有权利。快乐与勇气，报应或正义，对他们而言都处于从属地位。这是他们的教义，必须服从。但我既不关心思想也不关心永恒，在我的范围内真理都触手可及，我无法与之相分离。所以你无法以我为基础建立任何东西：征服者的一切都不会持久，哪怕是他的信条。

“无论是什么，这一切的终点，便是死亡。我们也知道它能终结一切。正因为如此，遍布欧洲的坟墓都面目可憎，而且也困扰着我们当中的某些人。人们只美化自己喜爱的事物，而死亡让我们感到厌恶，磨灭了我们的耐心，可它同样是要被征服的。被囚禁在帕多瓦[24]的最后一个卡拉拉人，当这个被瘟疫洗劫一空的城池被威尼斯人围困住后，他狂呼着跑遍自己废弃的宫殿：他在召唤魔鬼，请求赐自己一死。这便是战胜死亡的一种方式，而这同样也是西方勇气的一种标志，把死亡自以为荣的地方变得丑陋不堪。在反叛者的世界，死亡赞颂的是非正义。这是最高层次的毁谤。

“其他人也不加妥协地选择了永恒，谴责这个世界的假象。他们的坟茔在鸟语花香之中微笑。这很适合于征服者，为他描绘了一个他曾拒绝接受的清晰形象。而他选择了黑色的铁栅或义冢。上帝子民中的佼佼者有时会被一种恐惧攫住，恐惧的同时还对那些脑中有这样一种死亡印象的人表示关心与怜悯，而那些人正是从这里获得他们的理由与力量。我们的命运就在我们面前，而我们要去激发他。我们同样也会怜悯自己——更多的是由于意识到自己无能为力的处境，与自尊关系甚微，这是唯一可为我们所接受的同情：一种你或许理解不了的情绪，而且你绝不会觉得它有何刚强可言，然而感觉到其存在的却是我们当中的勇者。但是我们认为清醒之人才是刚强的，我们不希望得到一种与清醒撇开关系的力量。”

我重申，这些形象不夹带道德准则，不包含任何评判：它们是一些概述，只代表一种生活方式。情人、演员或冒险家都扮演了荒谬的角色。但如果他想的话，还可以扮成贞洁之人、行政人员，或者共和国首脑，扮得一样好。知道，并不加任何掩饰，便足矣。在意大利博物馆中你有时会发现被轻微涂过的挡板，那是牧师用来挡住有罪之人眼睛的，为的是不让他们看见绞刑架。各种形式的跨跃，冲入了神灵或永恒之中，屈从于平庸或是观念的幻影中——所有这些都是挡板，把荒谬挡在后面。但是也有那些没有挡板的政府工作人员，他们便是我要说的人。

我选取的是最极端的例子。从这一层面上说，荒谬赐予他们一种王权。的确，这些王子没有王国，但他们有一种优势：他们知道所有王权都是虚幻。他们知道，这是他们全部的高贵所在。丧失了希望不代表绝望。大地的火焰完全可以与天国的芳香相媲美。不仅是我，谁都无法对他们做出评判。他们并非努力做到更好，他们试着做到前后一致。如果说“智者”是依靠自己所拥有的生活，而不去思考自己没有的，那么他们就可以称得上是智者。他们之中有人比任何人都更明白，“你把自己亲爱的温顺的小绵羊养得恰到好处，你绝不会因此在人间和天堂得到一种特权；你最多还是一只亲爱的有角的小绵羊，仅此而已——即使你没有虚荣自负，也没有以一个装腔作势的法官身份制造一件丑闻。”他是思想领域的征服者，知识层面的唐璜，智慧上的演员。

无论如何都有必要为荒谬的推理提供更多诚恳的例子。我们还可以想象出更多的人——与时间和流亡不可分割的人，他们同样知道如何与一个没有未来与弱点的世界和睦共处。那时，在这个没有神灵的荒谬的世界，居住的是思想清晰、停止希望的人们。而我还没有说到最荒谬的角色——创造者。

[1]歌德（1794—1832），德国诗人、作家，青年时代为狂飙运动的代表人物，集文学、艺术、自然科学、哲学、政治等成就于一身，写有不同体裁的大量文学著作，代表作为诗剧《浮士德》、小说《少年维特之烦恼》。——译者注

[2]罗兰夫人（Manon Jeanne Phlipon，1754—1793），法国大革命时期著名的政治家，吉伦特党领导人之一。——译者注

[3]陀思妥耶夫斯基小说《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》的主人公。——译者注

[4]卢梭（1712—1778），法国思想家、文学家，其思想和著作对法国大革命和19世纪欧洲浪漫主义文学产生巨大影响，在社会观方面，主张人们经协议订立契约，建成公民的社会，在教育观方面，提出“回归自然”，让儿童的身心自由发展，著作有《民约论》、小说《爱弥尔》和自传《忏悔录》等。——译者注

[5]参见拉歇尔·贝斯帕洛夫的《途径与十字路口》。——译者注

[6]德国中世纪传说中的一位术士，为获得青春、知识和魔力，将灵魂出卖给魔鬼；德国作家歌德曾创作同名诗剧。——译者注

[7]蒂尔索·德·莫利纳（约1582—1648），西班牙喜剧作家，写有喜剧四百多种，出版八十余种。在西班牙戏剧史上有一定的地位。《塞维利亚的骗子》创造出欧洲文学中的典型人物之一唐璜，莫里哀的讽刺喜剧《唐璜》，拜伦的长诗《唐璜》，都仿照剧中这一形象而写成。——译者注

[8]奥斯卡·米洛兹（1877—1939），诗人，外交官。生于当时归于俄罗斯皇帝（现今属白俄罗斯）统治之下的立陶宛地区。后前往巴黎，在那里度过了人生的最重要时刻，并偶遇鼎鼎大名的奥斯卡·王尔德。在欧洲游历多年，并参加了一战，加入立陶宛阵营，担任过外交官。在1931年，以被授予法国荣誉骑士勋章为契机，加入了法国籍。他的《米格尔·马纳拉》（Miguel Manara），描写了一个唐璜式的英雄，最终皈依于神无私的爱，找到心灵安慰的故事。——译者注

[9]剧情交代：唐璜潜入骑士长邸宅，企图调戏骑士长之女安娜。安娜呼救，骑士长闻声赶来，唐璜拔剑刺死骑士长后逃跑。后来当唐璜在墓地游荡时，发现了骑士长的塑像，于是他戏邀塑像共进晚餐，塑像点头应允。结局是骑士长塑像如约前来。地面裂开，火焰喷出，唐璜被拖下地狱。——译者注

[10]从完整意义上说，就他的错误而言。一个健全的立场同样包含谬误。

[11]歌德著作《少年维特之烦恼》中的主人公。——译者注

[12]又称方济各会，是天主教托钵修会之一。——译者注

[13]莎士比亚悲剧《奥赛罗》中狡猾残忍的反面人物，暗施毒计诱使奥赛罗出于嫉妒和猜疑将无辜的妻子苔丝德蒙娜杀死。——译者注

[14]神圣罗马帝国皇帝、匈牙利国王和波希米亚国王。——译者注

[15]莎士比亚悲剧《李尔王》中李尔王的诚实、善良的幼女。——译者注

[16]《李尔王》中葛罗斯特伯爵的儿子，改装后化名为：“汤姆·白德兰”，继续服侍瞎眼的父亲，最后成为国王。——译者注

[17]我在此想到莫里哀的阿尔塞斯特。一切都是那么简单、明了、粗俗。阿尔塞斯特反对费兰特，色利曼纳反对艾里雅特，一种极端本质的荒谬结果之中的全部主题，还有诗句本身，“糟糕的诗句”，极少会像角色本质的乏味那样被强调。（以上提到的人物均为莫里哀剧作《恨世者》中的人物。——译者注）

[18]希腊神话中的海神，可以随心变幻自己的形状。——译者注

[19]歌剧《阿德里亚娜·莱科芙露尔》的女主角，剧本由阿图罗·柯劳替所作，是意大利作曲家契莱亚（1866—1950）最广为人知的作品。——译者注

[20]佛兰德斯是西欧的一个历史地名，泛指古代尼德兰南部地区，位于西欧低地西南部、北海沿岸，包括今比利时的东佛兰德省和西佛兰德省、法国的加来海峡省和北方省、荷兰的泽兰省。1337—1453年，英法两国曾为争夺它而展开“百年战争”。——译者注

[21]三十年战争（1618—1648），是由神圣罗马帝国的内战演变而成的全欧参与的一次大规模国际战争。——译者注

[22]中欧一地区，包括波兰西南部、捷克和斯洛伐克北部以及德国东南部。——译者注

[23]希腊神话中的人物，因盗取天火予人而触怒宙斯，被罚锁于高加索山崖上，遭神鹰折磨，后被海格立斯所救。——译者注

[24]意大利东北部城市。——译者注

荒谬的创造

哲学与小说

所有在荒谬的稀薄空气之中维持的生活，如果没有某种深刻而恒定的思想为之灌输力量，它们是无法持之以恒的。就在这里，它只能是一种忠实的奇怪感觉。清醒之人总在最愚蠢的战争中完成自己的任务，他们不会认为自己处于矛盾之中，因为必须无所逃避。所以在忍受这个世界的荒谬时就有一种超自然的荣誉。征服或演戏、花心、荒谬的反抗，都是人在一场预定要失败的战役中向自己的尊严致敬。

这只是遵守这场战斗规则的问题。那种思想或许足够维持一种精神；它一直在支持并将继续支持全部文明。战争无法被否定，人们必须经历战争，要么就得死于战争。荒谬也是如此：关键是要与之同呼吸共命运，承认从中得到的教训，并重获其真谛。在这一点上，荒谬之极乐便是创造。尼采说：“艺术，除了艺术别无他物，我们有了艺术才不至于死于真理。”

在我试图描述并要在几种模式中强调的体验中，各种折磨必定是此起彼伏的。对健忘的幼稚找寻，满意带来的吸引，如今已少了附和。然而持续的紧张状态使人一直要面对这个世界，有序的精神错乱鼓励他易于接受任何事物，而这给了他另一种狂热。在这个宇宙，艺术作品便成了保持其清醒并确定这种冒险经历的唯一机会。创造就是加倍生活。普鲁斯特式的摸索的探求，精心收集的鲜花、墙纸和焦虑，就意味着这种创造。同时，这种创造并不比演员、征服者及所有荒谬之人将每天生活都投入其中的持续不断而又不易察觉的创造，意义更大。所有人都想尝试去模仿，去重复，去重建属于他们的现实。我们总是在有了真理的外表时便宣告结束。一个人的所有存在如果背弃了永恒，就不过是在荒谬面具之下的超级模仿。创造是伟大的模仿。

这种人首先是知道，然后他们的全部努力便是去查验、扩大，并丰富刚在那里着陆的无望岛。但首先，他们必须得先知道。因为荒谬的发现会遭遇一个停顿，那时未来的激情已准备就绪并得到证实。每个没有信条的人都有自己的橄榄山[1]，而人们不可以在自己的山上睡去。对于荒谬之人来说，这一问题不关乎阐释与解决，而关乎体验与描述。一切始于保持清醒的冷漠。

描述——这是一种荒谬思想的最后目标。同样，科学到达其悖论的终点时便停止提议、思考，以及描绘永远童贞的现象风景。心灵认识到，在我们看到世界的种种面貌时愉悦我们的情感，并非来自世界的深度，而是来自世界面貌的多样性。解释是无用的，而感觉会保持着，与之一起的还有在数量上没有穷尽的宇宙所产生的不断吸引。艺术作品的地位可以从这一点上得到理解。

它标示出一种体验的终结与增殖。这是对世界已精心安排的主题的一种重复，单调乏味又充满激情，其中包括：身体、庙宇楣外饰上无穷尽的画面、形式或颜色、数字或伤痛。因此，在这个精彩而幼稚的创造者的世界，再次邂逅本书的首要主题，作为总结，并非没有差别。如果从这个世界里看到一种象征，并且认为艺术作品最终可作为荒谬的避难所，那就错了。它本身就是一种荒谬的现象，而我们只关心对它的描述。它并不提倡逃避思想上的疾病，其实它是这种疾病的症状之一，在一个人的整个思想过程中都有所体现。但是它第一次让精神脱离了自身，将之与他物对立，并不是想让精神迷失，而是要明白地指给它那条所有人都已踏上的盲道。在荒谬的推理中，创造会跟随冷漠与发现，它标示出荒谬的激情爆发点，而这也是理性停止的点。创造在本书中的地位就是用这种方式被确认的。

要在艺术作品中发现荒谬思想的所有矛盾，只需阐明创造者与思想者共有的几个主题便足够了。实际上，与其说证明各思想相联系的是相同的结论，不如说是他们共有的矛盾。思想与创造亦然，更不消说共同的苦恼促使人们形成这两种立场，这是他们在初始时的一致之处。然而在所有源自荒谬的思想中，我发现极少有思想能一直保持在荒谬的范围内。而通过它们的各种变体，我能够在最大限度上判断什么是属于荒谬范畴的。同样，我必须提出疑问：荒谬的艺术作品可能存在吗？

过多强调前一种对立——艺术与哲学之间的对立——的任意性是不可能的。假如你坚持用一种有过多限制的意义来看他，肯定是错的。假如你的意思只是，这两个学科各自具有独特立场，这极有可能是真的，但语焉不详。唯一可接受的论断在于被自己的体系困住的哲学家和面对自己作品的艺术家之间的矛盾，但这适合于我们在此列为第二位的艺术与哲学的某个特定形式。把一件艺术品与其创造者分开的想法不仅已经过时，也是错误的。有人指出，与艺术家相对的是，没有哪个哲学家曾创造过几个体系。实际上，没有艺术家以不同面貌进行过多种表达，就这一点而言，该观点是成立的。对艺术所做的瞬间美化对于它的更新是必要的——只有从预先形成的观点来看这一点才成立，因为艺术作品同样是一种假设，每个人都清楚伟大的创造者能有多么无聊。和思想者的理由一样，艺术家献身于自己的艺术，并在艺术中找到自我。这种潜移默化提出了最重要的美学问题，并且，对于任何相信思想具有单一目的的人而言，没有什么比建立在方法与对象之上的那些差别更无用的了。在人们为了理解和爱而为自己设立的学科之间没有边界，它们相互串连，被相同的焦虑连接在一起。

我们有必要在开头作此说明。若想得到荒谬的艺术品，必须使思想保持最清醒的形式。但同时，思想又不能太显而易见，除非是作为起调节作用的智慧。这一悖论可由荒谬来解释。艺术品的诞生是由于智慧拒绝思考具体的事物，这标志着肉体上的胜利。激起它的正是清醒的思想，而思想正是以这一行为否认自己。它不会抵挡不住诱惑而去增加那种被描述为深层含义的东西，它知道那是不合逻辑的。艺术品体现了一种智慧的戏剧，但只是间接证明了这一点。荒谬的作品需要一个艺术家和一种艺术，这艺术家意识到这些局限，这艺术中包含的确定性除了自己没有其他意味。它不可能是一种生活的终点、意义和慰藉。创造，还是不创造都不会有什么变化。荒谬的创造者不会嘉奖自己的作品。他可以否认它，有时他的确会否认它。就像兰波[2]的情况一样，一个阿比西尼亚[3]便足够了。

同时从这里还可以发现一个美学规则，真正的艺术品总是按照人的标准来创造的。从本质上说它展示出的东西“更少”。在艺术家总的体验与反映这种体验的作品之间，在威廉·麦斯特[4]与歌德的成熟之间，存在着某种关系。如果作品意欲在说明性文学的花边纸上展开全部体验，那么那种关系便是坏的。如果作品只是摘自体验的一小段，如钻石的一面，内部的光泽展露无余，那么那种关系便是好的。第一种情况属于超载，自负地想要达到永恒。第二种情况则使作品显得饱满，因为全面的体验含而不露，其丰富性任由人们去猜测。荒谬艺术家的问题是，他们要获得这种超越社交本领的彬彬有礼。最后，在这种立场下的伟大的艺术家首先是一个伟大的生灵，生活在这种情况下被认为是体验与反思并重。因而这些作品便体现了一种思智上的戏剧。荒谬的作品表明，思想背弃了它的威信，心甘情愿地成为精心设计外表并为无理性之物包装形象的思维。如果世界是清晰的，那么艺术就不会存在。

这里我谈的不是形式或色彩艺术，对于那种艺术，只有最质朴的描述才能占据上风。[5]思想结束了，表达就会开始。那些被人们置于庙宇和博物馆中的眼窝空空的青少年，他们的哲学已经用肢体表达出来。对于一个荒谬的人来说，这比所有图书馆都更具教育意义。在另一种外表下，同样的情况也适用于音乐。如果说有一种艺术是没有教育意义的，那肯定是音乐。它与数学的关系太近了，无法借用数学的无凭无据。精神根据已确定的精确规则与自己玩了一场游戏，这游戏就发生在我们可接收的声波范围内，超出这个范围，就会振动，就发生在非人性的宇宙中了。再没有比这更纯粹的感觉了。这些例子都过于简单，荒谬之人会把这些协调性和这些形式都当作自己的。

但这里我还要说到一种作品，对于这种作品而言，解释的诱惑仍是最大的，错觉会自动现身，而结论几乎是必不可少的。我指的是小说创作。我计划探询一下荒谬能否在这里扎根。

思考首先就意味着创造一个世界（或者说限制自己的世界，其实指的是同一件事）。它从把人与其体验相分离的基本的一致性出发，目的是按照人对旧事的怀恋发现一个共同点，一个用理性设限或者说由怀旧点亮的宇宙，但不管怎样，这个宇宙提供了一个机会以取消那种不堪忍受的分离。一个哲学家，即使他是康德，也是一个创造者。他有自己的性格、自己的标志、自己的秘密行动。他有自己的故事结局。相反，位于诗歌与散文之上的小说，不看表面，它所做的榜样只是代表了一种更伟大的艺术理智化。关于这一点不可出现半点差池；我指的是最伟大的。一种文学形式的积淀与重要性常常是由它所包含的糟粕来衡量的。我们一定不能因为那么多糟糕的小说而忘记了最佳小说的价值。实际上，那些作品都拥有自己的宇宙。小说拥有自己的逻辑、自己的推理、自己的直觉和自己的假设。它同样还有自己对明晰性的要求。[6]

以上所述的经典对立在此特殊例子中被阐释的更少。假如容易把哲学与其作者分开的话，那么它会保持在时间里。如今，思想不再主张普遍性，最好的历史或许要算它的悔恨史，于是我们知道了，这种体系如果有用的话，是不会和其作者相分离的。伦理学，从某一方面说，只是一段详尽的长篇个人自述。抽象的思想最终回到了支撑自己的肉体。同样，身体与激情的虚构活动更多是按照这个世界的某个幻象之要求来调控的。作家停止了讲“故事”，开始创造自己的宇宙。最伟大的小说家是哲学小说家，恰是论文家的对立面。略举几个例子，如巴尔扎克[7]、萨德[8]、梅尔维尔[9]、司汤达[10]、陀思妥耶夫斯基、普鲁斯特、马尔罗[11]、卡夫卡[12]。

他们对用形象而非推理性论断来写作表现出偏爱，但事实上，这揭示出他们所共有的某种思想，他们确信，任何解释原则都是无用的，而可感知的外表传达出具有教育意义的信息。他们把艺术作品既当作终点，又当作起点。它是一种常常不明说的哲学之结果，是对这种哲学的阐释，是这种哲学的终结，但只有将这种哲学暗含其中才算圆满。有极少一部分思想会使一种旧题的变体远离生活，大多思想则会使这种主题无奈地接受生活，而艺术作品最终证实了这种变体的合理性。思想无法完善现实，于是便中途暂停开始模仿它。我们所说的小说是那种既有关联又取之不尽的知识之工具，正如爱的工具一般。关于爱，小说创作具有原创的精彩与丰富的想象。

这些至少是我一开始从中发现的魅惑。然而我同样在那些拥有耻辱思想的佼佼者中发现了这些，后来我便见证了这些人的自杀。实际上，我感兴趣的是去了解并描述把他们带回到幻觉之普遍道路上的力量。在此同样的方法会最终帮我一把。我已经运用过这种方法，于是我便可以缩短论述，用一个特殊的例子马上加以总结。我想知道，如果一个人接受了无所吁求无所诉求的生活，那么他能否同样愿意无所诉求地去工作和创造，还有，通向这些自由的方法是什么。我想释放我的宇宙中的幽魂，并且只让有血有肉的真理居住其中，我无法否认这些真理的存在。我可以履行荒谬的工作，选择创造性的立场而非其他。然而一种荒谬的立场必须对其无凭无据保持清醒，倘若它有这种意愿的话。艺术作品的情况亦然。如果荒谬的诫律没有得到尊重，如果这一作品没有阐明分离与反抗，如果它崇尚幻象，激起希望，那么它就不再无凭无据了。我无法再让自己离开它。我的生活或许可以从中发现一种意义，但那只是微不足道的。它不再是超然与激情中的练习，为一个人生活中的辉煌与徒劳加冕。

在那种对解释的诱惑最为强烈的创造中，人能抵挡住诱惑吗？在那虚构的世界中，对现实世界的意识是最敏锐的，我能忠实于荒谬而不屈服于那种想作评判的欲望吗？有那么多问题要在最后一举考虑进来，而其所指也肯定已经弄清楚。这些问题是对一种意识的最后顾虑，这种意识害怕放弃自己初始的艰难教训，那是有利于最后一种幻觉的。适用于创造的，被认为是意识到荒谬的人可能持有的一种立场，那也同样适用于他可以选择的所有生活方式。征服者或演员，创造者或唐璜，或许已忘记，自己在生活中的练习无法离开对其疯狂特性的了解。人很快就能适应。一个人想通过赚钱获得幸福，于是他的全部努力和生活的精华部分都用来赚钱。幸福被遗忘了；赚钱是为了生命的终结。同样，那位征服者的全部努力可以转化为雄心壮志，这只是更伟大生活之路。而唐璜同样会转而服从于自己的命运，满意于那种只有通过反抗才能获得有价值之高贵的存在。对一个人来说这是意识，而对另一个人来说便成了反抗；在两种情况下荒谬都消失了。人心中有太多顽固的希望，最穷困之人最后常常会接受幻觉。这种因需要内心平和而激起的认可与有关存在的赞同相当。因而便出现了光芒四射的神和泥塑的偶像，然而我们有必要找到一条通往人之多面性的中间道路。

至此，关于它是什么，荒谬之危急关头的一次次失败已给了我们最好的答案。当我们得知答案时，同样也会注意到，小说创作可以表现出同某些哲学一样的含糊性。因此我可以选择一种包含一切事物的作品，它表现出对荒谬的了解，有一个清晰的起点和一个清醒的思想态度，其结果必将给我们以启发。倘若荒谬在其中未得到重视，那么我们就可以知道幻觉靠什么趁虚而入了。一个特例，一个主题，一个创造者的忠诚，对他们就足够了。更加细致的相同分析也包含其中。

我要查验陀思妥耶夫斯基最爱的一个主题。我也可以研究其他作品，[13]但是关于已讨论过的存在哲学，这部作品从高尚与情感的意义上直接探讨了问题。这种一致性恰合我的目的。

基里洛夫

陀思妥耶夫斯基的所有英雄人物都问自己同一个问题——生活的意义问题。由此看出他们都很现代：他们不害怕荒唐。当代情感与传统情感的区别就是，后者在道德问题上收获颇丰，而前者则是形而上学的问题。在陀思妥耶夫斯基的小说中，这一问题的提出饱含强烈的感情，以至于只能采用极端办法解决。存在是虚幻的，或者说它是永恒的。假如陀思妥耶夫斯基满意于这种探寻的话，他便成了一位哲学家。然而他阐明了这种思维上的消遣在人的生活中可能产生的结果，就此而言，他是一名艺术家。在那些结果中，他的注意力尤其被最后的结果所俘获，这一结果在他的《作家日记》中被称为合乎逻辑的自杀。在1876年12月的日记部分，他设想了“合乎逻辑的自杀”的合理性。这一绝望的人已经确信，人的存在对于任何不相信邪恶的人而言，都是一种绝对的荒谬，于是他得出以下结论：

“因为在回答我关于幸福的问题时，以我的意识为媒介，我被告知说，除非是与伟大的一切和谐相处，否则我是不会幸福的，而这是我无法想象的，我也永远不会想象到，那么显然……”

“因为，最终在这种联系中，我既充当了原告的角色，也充当了被告的角色，既充当了被控者的角色，也充当了法官的角色；因为我认为这出由自然所导演的喜剧愚不可及；因为我甚至觉得让我屈尊去演绎是一种耻辱……”

“在我无可指责的原告与被告、法官与被告的身份上，我谴责自然，它厚颜无耻，把我带到世间就是为了受苦——我诅咒它和我一起消亡。”

这种立场尚存一丝幽默。自杀者之所以结束自己的生命，是因为他在超自然层面被惹恼了。从某种意义上说，他是在复仇。他用这种方式证明自己“不会被拥有”，然而我们知道，在《群魔》的基里洛夫身上体现出相同的主题，只是用了最精彩的概述方式，这部作品同样是提倡合乎逻辑的自杀。工程师基里洛夫在某处宣称，他要结束自己的生命因为这“是他的意念”。显然必须从其本来意义上看这个词，它指的是一种想法，一种思想，这思想就是，他为死做好了准备。这是一种高层次的自杀。在基里洛夫的脑中逐渐闪现出一系列的画面，其中就有驱使他的那种致命意念，该意念渐渐显露在我们面前。事实上，这个工程师回到《日记》的论断中来。他感觉上帝是必不可少的，而他必须存在下去。但他知道，他不会也不能存在。他惊呼道：“你为何没有意识到，这是自杀的充分理由呢？”这一态度对他来说同样包含了某些荒谬的结果。由于淡漠，他同意让他的自杀为自己所鄙视的一项事业所用。“我昨晚下定决心，我不在乎。”而最终他的行为中带有一种反抗与自由相混合的感情。“我要结束自己的生命，为的是坚定我的不屈，和我全新而又可怕的自由。”这已不再是复仇问题了，而成了反抗问题。因此基里洛夫是个荒谬的角色——但还有一种不可或缺的保留：他自杀了。但他自己解释了这一矛盾，解释的方式使他同时暴露了最纯粹的荒谬之秘密。事实上，他又为其致命的逻辑平添了一份企望，这便全方位展现了这一角色：他想要自杀以成为神。

这种逻辑具有传统的明晰性。如果上帝不存在，基里洛夫就是神。如果上帝不存在，基里洛夫必须自杀。所以基里洛夫必须自杀才能成为神。这种逻辑是荒谬的，但也是必要的。然而有趣的是要为那种被带到世上的神明赋予意义，这就等于是澄清这一前提：“如果上帝不存在，我就是神，”但仍是晦涩不明。一开始我们就要注意到，夸耀这种疯狂宣言的人确实属于这个世界，这一点很重要。为保持健康，他每天早上锻炼身体；他为查托夫找回妻子时的喜悦而感动。他死后，人们在一张纸上发现了他画的一张脸，正对“他们”吐着舌头。他稚气未脱、性情暴躁、饱含热情、神经过敏、做事有条不紊。说到超人，他只具有超人的思维与沉迷，却有人的全套特征，而平静谈论自己的神明的正是他。他没疯，要不然就是陀思妥耶夫斯基疯了。因此刺激他的不是一种妄自尊大的幻觉，而在此例子中取词句的具体意义会显得荒唐可笑。

基里洛夫自己也在帮助我们理解。他澄清说自己不是在谈论一个神人，这算是对斯塔夫罗金所提问题的回应。或许人们会认为，这是出于把自己与基督区别开来的考虑，但事实上这是一个连基督也一并归入的问题。实际上，基里洛夫一度想象，耶稣死后并没有升入天堂，于是他发现自己所受的折磨都白费了。这个工程师说：“自然法则让基督生活在谎言之中，并且为了一个谎言死去。”只是从此意义上说，耶稣才的确是整部人类戏剧的化身。他是完整的人，是意识到这种最荒谬状态的人。他不是神人，而是人神。我们每个人都像他一样，会被钉在十字架上，会代人受过——只是在某种程度上。

因此，我们所谈的神明完全是人间的。基里洛夫说：“三年来我一直在找寻我的神明有何特性，我最终找到了。我之神明的特性便是独立。”这就可以看出基里洛夫的前提——“如果上帝不存在，我就是神”——有何意义了。成为神仅仅意味着在这个地球上获得自由，而非一个永生的存在效力。当然最重要的是，它是从那种痛苦的独立中做出所有推断的。如果上帝存在，那么一切便有赖于他，我们便无法做任何有悖于他的事。如果他不存在，一切便都取决于我们。对于基里洛夫而言，正如对于尼采而言，杀死上帝便是使自己成为神，便是在这个地球上实现福音书中所说的永生。[14]

可是，如果这种抽象的犯罪足够一个人达到圆满，为何还要自杀呢？为何在赢得自由后又要结束生命，离开这个世界呢？这是矛盾的。基里洛夫非常清楚这一点，因为他补充说：“如果你感觉到那个，你就是一位沙皇，你非但不会自杀，反而会荣耀一生。”但是一般人不会知道，他们不会感觉到“那个”。在普罗米修斯时代，他们怀有盲目的希望。[15]他们需要有谁给自己指明道路，并无法离开布道。因此基里洛夫肯定是出于对人性的爱而自杀，他必定为自己的教友指明了一条忠实而艰难的道路，而他是开路者。这是一种教学式的自杀，而基里洛夫做了自我牺牲。可是如果他被钉上十字架，他不会是代人受过。他仍然是人神，确信一种没有未来的死亡，被灌输入福音书式的忧郁。他说：“我不快乐，因为我必须维护我的自由。”可一旦他死了，人们也最终摆脱了无知，那时这个世界上将遍地沙皇，要由人性的光辉去照亮。基里洛夫的那声枪响将成为最后一场革命的信号，所以促人走向死亡的不是绝望，而是为了自己而对邻居的爱。在将一种无法形容的精神历险终结于血泊中之前，基里洛夫说了一句与人类的苦难一样古老的话：“一切安好。”

那么，陀思妥耶夫斯基作品中的这种自杀主题的确是一种荒谬的主题。继续论述之前，我们只需注意，基里洛夫又化为其他人物，而这些人物自己又论及其他荒谬的主题。斯塔夫罗金和伊万·卡拉马佐夫在实际生活中实践了荒谬的事实，他们是由基里洛夫的死获得解放的人，试着用自己的能力成为沙皇。斯塔夫罗金过着一种“讽刺”的生活，至于在哪一方面我们已清楚。他激起了周围人对他的反感，而理解这一人物的关键在于他的道别语：“我还没能让自己对什么产生厌恶。”他是一个淡漠的沙皇。伊万同样通过拒绝妥协而成为精神的忠实力量。对于那些和他兄弟一样，用自己的生活证明有必要羞辱自己以得到信念的人，他回答，这种状态是可耻的。他关键的一句话是，“一切都是被允许的”，带有一些得体的忧郁色彩。当然，和尼采这一最有名的行刺上帝者一样，他最终疯掉了。但还是值得冒这个险的，而面对这种悲剧的结局，荒谬精神中的本质冲动会问：“这证明了什么呢？”

所以陀思妥耶夫斯基的小说，比如《日记》，提出了荒谬的问题。它们为死亡、欣喜、“可怕的自由”创造了逻辑，沙皇的荣耀变得人性化起来。一切都好，什么都被允许，没有可恶的东西——这些是荒谬的判断。但这是多么惊人的创造啊，其中的火与冰等创造物对我们来说是那么熟悉。这个激情四射的冷漠世界——冷漠在它们内心深处轰鸣，对于我们来说根本就不恐怖，我们在其中发现自己每天都有的焦虑。或许没有人像陀思妥耶夫斯基那样，赋予这个荒谬的世界那样熟悉而又折磨人的魅惑。

但是他的结论是什么呢？让我引用两段话来表现使作者得到其他发现的彻底的抽象转变。那个自杀得合乎逻辑之人的论断激起了批评者的抗议，而陀思妥耶夫斯基在以下的《日记》部分巩固了此人的位置，并且这么总结道：“如果对不道德的信任对人类十分必要（以至于没了它人就要发展到自杀），那么它必定是正常的人性状态。鉴于此，人类灵魂中的不道德无疑是存在的。”然后在他最后一部小说的最后几页，在与上帝之间那种宏大的搏斗最后，几个孩子问阿辽沙：“卡拉马佐夫，宗教说的是真的吗，我们会死而复生，我们还会重逢？”阿辽沙回答：“当然，我们还会重逢，我们会高兴地告诉对方都发生了什么事情。”

于是基里洛夫、斯塔夫罗金，还有伊万都输了。《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》对《群魔》回答。而这确实是一个结论。阿辽沙的话没有梅什金公爵[16]的话含糊，后者生活在永远的现在中，略带微笑与冷漠，而这种幸福的状态或许正是公爵所说的永生。相反，阿辽沙清楚地说：“我们会重逢。”不再有自杀和发疯的问题，对于确信非道义及其带来的愉悦的人来说，有什么用呢？人用自己的神性换来了幸福。“我们会高兴地告诉对方都发生了什么事情。”于是基里洛夫的枪声再一次回响在俄国的某个地方，然而世界仍在珍视自己盲目的希望。人们无法理解“那一点”。

因此，向我们娓娓诉说的不是一个荒谬小说家，而是一个存在主义小说家。这一跨跃同样动人，并且为激发自己的艺术赋予了高贵的气质。这是一种激动人心的默许，受到怀疑、不确定和热情的严重影响。陀思妥耶夫斯基在谈到《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》时写道：“本书自始至终贯穿的一个主要问题就是我一生都深受其折磨的问题，不论我是否清醒地意识到，那就是上帝的存在。”难以置信的是，一部小说便足以将一生遭受的苦痛转化为令人愉快的确定性。某评论员[17]准确地指出，陀思妥耶夫斯基站在伊万一边，积极乐观的章节耗费了三个月的工夫，而他所称的“亵渎行为”只用了三周便在一种兴奋的状态中写就。他的人物没有一个不带那种肉中刺，没有一个不使之恶化，没有一个不在情感与非道义中寻求补救方式。[18]到达终点后，创造者会做出对其人物不利的选择。而这种矛盾可以让我们做出一个区分，这里所论及的不是一部荒谬的作品，而是一部提出荒谬问题的作品。

陀思妥耶夫斯基的答复是屈辱，用斯塔夫罗金的话说就是“羞耻”。相反，荒谬的作品不会给出答复；这便是全部差异所在。在最后我们要特别注意这一点：在这部作品中与荒谬产生矛盾的不是其基督徒的特性，而是它对一种未来生活的昭示。既信仰基督又表现出荒谬，这是可能的。基督徒不相信未来生活的例子是有的。因而对艺术作品来说，应当可以确定一种荒谬分析的方向，而这也应该能从前几章中预见到的。它促进了“福音书之荒谬性”的提出，阐明了确信并不妨碍怀疑这一观点，影响颇丰。但显然《群魔》的作者尽管熟悉这些套路，最后还是选择了一条极其不同的道路。这个创造者对其人物的回答，也就是陀思妥耶夫斯基对基里洛夫的回答，让人大吃一惊，实际上该回答可以归结为：存在是虚幻的，也是永恒的。

昙花一现的创造

我于是从这一点意识到，无法永远回避希望，希望甚至可以困扰那些想要摆脱它的人，这是我在至此讨论的作品中发现的兴趣所在。至少在创造的领域内，我可以列举一些真正荒谬的作品。[19]然而凡事必有一个开端，此论述的对象是某种忠实性。教会对异教徒一直都严酷无情，只因她认为没有比一个误入歧途的孩子更糟糕的敌人了。有关诺斯替教派傲慢无礼的记录与摩尼教坚忍不拔的精神，比所有的祷文对建立正统教义的贡献都要大。考虑周全的话，同样的情况也适用于荒谬。人们认清自己的路线是通过发现背离路线的路径。在荒谬推理的最后，从其逻辑所持有的立场看，这问题不是对又扮上自己最动人伪装的希望表现得无动于衷的问题。这显示出荒谬的禁欲行为之艰难，尤其是显示了时刻保持警觉的必要性，并因此确认了本书的大体框架。

但如果说列举荒谬的著作仍为时尚早，至少可以针对创造性的立场得出一个结论，这是一个可以让荒谬的存在达到圆满的结论。消极的思想更能满足艺术的要求，理解一部伟大的作品必须看到其灰暗与耻辱的部分，正如认识白就要知道黑一样。用泥去雕塑，“徒劳”地去工作和创造，知道自己的创造没有未来，眼见自己的作品毁于一旦，同时又意识到，从根本上说，这同建设未来一样无关紧要——这是荒谬思想好不容易认可的智慧。否定一个，放大另一个，同时执行这两个任务，是向荒谬的创造者打开的道路。他必须赋予虚无以颜色。

这促成了对艺术品的一种特殊构想。一位创造者的作品常常被当作一系列孤立的见证，于是艺术家与作家困惑不已。一种深刻的思想一直处在“变成”的状态中；它吸收了一种生活的体验，并表现出自己的形态。同样，一个人唯一的创造在其后续多样的面貌——作品——中得到强化。这些作品接二连三地出现，相互补充，相互纠正或相互赶超，也相互矛盾。如果说有什么会结束一种创造的话，那它不是失明的艺术家胜利而虚幻的呼喊：“我已尽言”，而是创造者的死亡，他关闭了自己的体验，合上了关于自己的天才之书。

那种努力，那种超人的清醒头脑不一定对读者显而易见。人类创造中没有奥秘，意愿完成了这一奇迹，然而至少没有无秘密的真正创造。诚然，接连不断的作品只是同一种思想的一系列相似品。但还有可能设想另一种创造者，他们并肩前进。他们的作品之间似乎没有什么关联，从某种程度上说还是相互矛盾的，但如果整体来看的话，便显示出其同类性。例如，它们都从死亡中获取确定性的意义，都从其作者的生活中得到最明亮的光。在作者去世的那一刻，他一系列的作品便只是一堆败笔。可是如果这些败笔产生了共振，那么创造者就成功复制了自我状态的形象，从而空气中便回荡着被他占有的毫无意义的秘密。

在此，为取得支配地位已付出了巨大的努力，然而人类的智慧则要大的多，它只会清楚指明由意志控制的那一面创造。我在其他地方已经指出了这一事实，那就是人类的意志除为了保持清醒外别无他图，但这也无法离开锤炼。在有关耐心与清醒的练习中，创造是最行之有效的，它同样也惊人地证明了人类仅有的尊严：与自身状况的不屈反抗，锲而不舍于一种所谓无果的努力。这需要每天的努力，对自我的克制，对真理局限性的准确估计，分寸与实力。这就是禁欲，为了重复与标注时间，一切都是“徒劳”。然而或许伟大的艺术品本身没有那么重要，其重要之处在于它期待一个人承受的苦难，在于它为这个人所提供的克服自身幻觉并一步步靠近自己赤裸裸的现实的机会。

不要在美学上出错。我于此并非要求，一篇论文要不厌其烦地探询，不断进行无果的阐述。如果你清楚地理解了我的论述，你会发现我的要求恰恰相反。论述小说是一种想要证明什么的作品，是最惹人厌恶的那种，它经常是以一种自以为是的思想激发而成。你会论证那种确信自己占有的真理，而那些只是人们提出的观点，是与思想相对的。其创造者是那些自惭形秽的哲学家。我所说的或者说我所想象的那些人相反，他们是清醒的思想者。在思想对自己置之不理的时刻，他们高举自己作品的形象，正如一种受到限制而又充满反抗精神的致命思想的显著标志。

或许他们证明了什么，可是那些证明是小说家为自己而不是为整个世界提供的。最重要的是，小说家应该在具体事物中取得胜利，这是他们的高贵所在。种种抽象的力量在其中蒙羞的思想，已经为他们准备好了这种完全的肉体上的胜利。当他们完全如此的时候，肉体便会同时让创造散发出自己所有荒谬的光辉。毕竟，讽刺性哲学家产出充满激情的作品。

任何弃绝一致性的思想都颂扬多样性，而多样性是艺术的归宿。唯一使精神得到释放的思想是不去打扰它的思想，这思想明确它的限制与行将到来的结局。没有什么理论学说能对它产生诱惑，它静候着工作与生活的成熟。如果作品脱离了精神，它就会再一次用一种近乎低沉的声音表达一种没有希望的灵魂。或者，假如厌倦于自我行为的创造者意欲转身而去，它便什么也不会表达。这是对等的。

于是我期望从荒谬的创造中获取我从思想中得到的东西——反抗、自由和多样性。不久它就会彰显出自己完全的无用性。在日复一日的努力尝试中，智慧与激情相互结合，相互取悦，而荒谬之人从中发现了一种可使其实力最大化的锻炼方式。于是必需的勤奋、顽强与清醒类似于征服者的立场。创造就像是赋予一个人的命运以一种形状，对于所有这些人物而言，作品对他们的定义至少不亚于他们对作品的定义。演员教给我们：在“是什么”与“表现为什么”之间没有界线。

我要重申，所有这些都没有什么实际意义。在通往自由的过程中仍有一段路要走，对这些相互联系的头脑（不管是创造者还是征服者）所做的最后努力，就是把他们也从自己的事业中解脱出来：做到承认那作品，不论是否是征服、爱情或创造；使任何个体生活都达到完全的无用这一圆满结果。实际上，那在作品的完成上给予了他们更多的自由，正如开始意识到他们被赋予的这种生活的荒谬性，从而不遗余力地投入其中。

剩下的就是命运了，其唯一的出路是致命的。在死亡这种单独的致命性以外，一切都是自由，毋论是喜悦还是快乐。这个世界仍是人主宰的世界，对他形成限制的是对另一个世界的幻觉。其思想的结果不再是自我否定，而是开出形象的花朵。它只是在嬉戏——肯定是在虚构之中，然而这些虚构除了人类的痛苦外没有其他深度，而且同人类的痛苦一样没有穷尽。不是从供人消遣并蒙蔽人心的神话传说中，而是从人间的面孔、姿态以及戏剧中，可以总结出一种艰难的智慧与短暂的热情。

[1]位于耶路撒冷旧城东面，该山为犹太教和基督教的圣山。耶稣在橄榄山上度过很多时间，教导门徒并作预言，也是耶稣被出卖后度过最后一夜的地方。——译者注

[2]阿尔蒂尔·兰波（1854—1891），19世纪法国著名诗人，早期象征主义诗歌的代表人物，超现实主义诗歌的鼻祖。——译者注

[3]埃塞俄比亚旧名。兰波在这里度过了人生的大部分时间。——译者注

[4]歌德的长篇小说《威廉·麦斯特的学习时代》的主人公。——译者注

[5]奇怪的是，绘画中最需要理解力的一种，说到底只是一种视觉享受，它试图将现实还原为它的本质元素。它所保留的世界只有颜色。（这一点在雷捷身上表现得特别明显。）

雷捷（1881—1955），色彩立体派的代表——译者注。

[6]假如你停下来想一想，这其实解释了最糟糕的小说。几乎所有人都认为自己具备思考的能力，而从某种程度上说，无论对错，大家的确都在思考。但几乎没有人会设想自己是诗人或语言大师。然而从思想胜过风格的那一刻起，人们一窝蜂地侵入了小说的领域。

这并没有人们所说的那么致命。最好的会在引导下对自己提出更多严苛的要求，至于那些屈服的人，他们就不该存在。

[7]巴尔扎克（1799—1850），法国小说家，他的总标题为《人间喜剧》的巨著包括小说91部，反映了法国社会剧烈变革时期的现实生活，描绘了法国的人情风俗。——译者注

[8]萨德（1740—1814），法国作家，军人出身，著有长篇小说《美德的厄运》、《朱莉埃特》等。——译者注

[9]梅尔维尔（1819—1891），美国小说家，作品多反映航海生活，富于现实感，代表作有《白鲸》、《皮埃尔》等。——译者注

[10]司汤达（1783—1842），法国小说家，19世纪法国现实主义文学的先驱，代表作有《红与黑》、《巴马修道院》等。——译者注

[11]马尔罗（1901—1976），法国作家、政治活动家，戴高乐的追随者，著有长篇小说《征服者》、《人类的命运》等。——译者注

[12]卡夫卡（1883—1924），奥地利小说家，现代派文学的先驱，作品象征着20世纪的忧虑和渗透于西方社会的异化，著有长篇小说《判决》、《城堡》等。——译者注

[13]例如马尔罗的作品。但实际上，同时也有必要论述无法被荒谬思想所忽视的社会问题（即使这一问题可以提出若干彼此差别很大的解决办法）。然而，人必须要限制自己。

[14]“斯塔夫罗金：‘你相信在另一个世界中的永生吗？’基里洛夫：‘不相信，但我相信在这个世界里的永生。’”

[15]“人创造了上帝只是为了不至于自杀。这是对到这一刻为止的普遍历史所做的总结。”

[16]陀思妥耶夫斯基小说《白痴》中的主人公，即书中“白痴”。——译者注

[17]俄国的乐评家席洛兹。

[18]纪德的评论古怪而又尖锐：几乎陀思妥耶夫斯基笔下的所有英雄都是一夫多妻。无论如何，让我们保留这一疑问。这里涉及的作品在对比下显得比白昼的阳光还要耀眼，这可以让我们把握人与其希望间的斗争。

纪德（Andre Gide, 1869—1951），法国作家、文艺评论家，曾获1947年诺贝尔文学奖。——译者注

[19]梅尔维尔的《白鲸》。

西西弗斯[1]神话

众神判处西西弗斯永不休止地把一块大石头滚上山顶，到了山顶石头又在自身重量的作用下滚落下去。他们的理由是，再没有比看不到希望的徒劳更可怕的惩罚方法了。

如果你相信荷马的话，那么西西弗斯便是凡人中最聪明、最审慎的一个。但在另一个传说中，他又被安排去扮演强盗的角色。这里我没发现什么矛盾，而关于他是怎么成了地狱里只能做无用功的苦力，众说纷纭。首先，有指责说他怠慢了诸神，窃取了他们的机密。伊索普斯[2]的女儿伊琴娜被朱庇特[3]劫走，父亲对女儿的失踪大为震惊，便向西西弗斯诉怨。西西弗斯知道这起绑架，便主动告诉了他，但有一个条件，就是伊索普斯要为科林斯堡供水。比起天火雷电，西西弗斯更喜欢水浴。为此他被罚下地狱。而荷马告诉我们，西西弗斯用锁链缚住了死神，普路托[4]无法忍受地狱的荒凉、落寞，便派战神去把死神从她的征服者手里解救出来。

还说，西西弗斯临死前，冒失地想考验一下妻子对他的爱，便命妻子不要埋葬自己的尸体，而是把它扔到公共广场的中央。西西弗斯在地狱醒了过来。在那里他要处处服从，与他在人间享受的爱完全不同，使他饱受困扰，于是他从普洛托那里获准重回人间去惩戒自己的妻子。可是当再一次见到这个世界的面貌时，他享受着阳光的照耀和水流的滋润，还有那温暖的石头和大海，再也不想回到那黑暗的地狱了。来自地狱的召唤、怒气、警告都无济于事。他面对蜿蜒的海湾、闪烁的大海、微笑的大地，又在人间生活了多年。诸神是时候采取措施了。于是墨丘利[5]来了，他抓住这个鲁莽之人的衣领，将他从快乐中拽了出来，强行把他带回了地狱，在那里巨石已为他备好了。

你已经看明白了，西西弗斯是荒谬的英雄。他的激情和他的痛苦成就了这个英雄人物。他对诸神的蔑视、对死亡的痛恨、对生活的热情为他赢得了那不可言状的惩罚——运用全身心的精力去完成无用功。这是世俗的热情必须要付出的代价。关于西西弗斯在地狱的事情我们一无所知。神话都是用想象吹活的，至于这个神话，人们看到的只是一个人的全部劳作，他费力抬起一块巨石，然后滚动巨石，成百上千次把它推上一个斜坡；人们看到的是一张拧紧的脸，面颊紧贴着石头，肩膀撑着沾满泥土的大石块，双脚插入土里，每迈出新的一步双臂都要伸展拉伸，人身安全只有靠那双沾满泥土的手来保障。漫长劳作的最后是紧贴头顶的天空和没有边际的时间，此时目标便达成了。然后西西弗斯看着石头冲下山去，没一会便到了下面的世界，从那里，他又得重新把石头推上山顶。他又回到了平地。

正是这种往返、停歇，使我对西西弗斯产生了兴趣。那张磨炼得如石头般的脸已然成了石头。我看着这个人走回山下去，迈着沉重而稳健的步伐，走向一种他永远不知道终点的折磨。这段喘息时间和他所要遭受的折磨一样，定时回来，这便是意识的时刻。每当他走下山顶，慢慢陷入众神的巢穴，他都高过自己的命运，强于那块巨石。如果说这个神话是个悲剧，那是因为它的英雄人物是有意识的。如果他每迈一步都充满了胜利的希望，那么何谓对他的折磨呢？今天的劳动人民每天都在完成同样的任务，这种命运绝非荒谬，只有到了意识出现时（这种情况很少出现），它才是悲惨的。西西弗斯是众神的无产者，手无缚鸡之力，心有反抗精神，他完全明白自己的悲惨处境；这正是他下山期间所思考的。清醒的头脑是他痛苦的原因，但同时也加冕了他的胜利。没有轻蔑征服不了的命运。

因此倘若走下坡路时可以充满悲伤，那么也可以充满欢乐。这话并不过分。我想象着西西弗斯走向他的石头，悲伤开始酝酿。如果大地的形象深深地刻入记忆，如果快乐的召唤已十分迫切，那么悲伤在心中郁积：这便是石头的胜利，这就是那个石头。无尽的忧伤之重难以承受，这就是我们的客西马尼[6]之夜。然而雄辩的真理一旦被认识就要幻灭。因而俄狄浦斯[7]一开始不知情的时候是服从于命运的，而从他知道的那一刻起，他的悲剧便开始了。但同时，失明而又绝望的俄狄浦斯意识到，联系他与这个世界的唯一纽带是一个女孩冰冷的手臂。于是便有了一段掷地有声的精彩话语：“尽管历经种种磨难，我年事已高，灵魂高尚，这让我最终发现，一切安好。”所以说索福克勒斯[8]的俄狄浦斯，同陀思妥耶夫斯基的基里洛夫一样，都给出了荒谬的胜利法则。先贤的智慧肯定了现代的英雄主义。

人们要发现荒谬，就肯定要忍不住写一本幸福指南。“什么！用这种狭隘的方式？……”然而，只有一个世界，快乐与荒谬是同一块土地的两个儿子，是不可分的。如果说要得到快乐就必须发现荒谬，那就错了，而荒谬的感觉是来自快乐的。俄狄浦斯说“我觉得，一切安好”，这一说法神圣而不可侵犯。它在荒芜而有限的人类宇宙间回响，告诫人们一切都没有耗尽，从来就没有耗尽过。一个神带着不满与对无效痛苦的偏爱进入这个世界，而它把这个神驱逐了出去。它还把命运变成了一种人的事情，必须在人中间得到解决。

西西弗斯所有静默的快乐都包含其中。他的命运属于他自己，他的石头受他左右。同样，当荒谬的人思考自己的痛苦时，他令所有被人膜拜的偶像都哑然失声。在这个突然间恢复沉寂的世界，对大地声音毫不在乎的无数元素纷纷升起。来自所有面孔的无意识的、秘密的召唤、诱惑，它们是胜利必然付出的代价，并与之相对。有阳光就会有阴影，我们必须认识黑夜。荒谬的人说“好”，然后便会不停地努力。如果有属于个人的命运，那么便不存在更高层次的命运，或者至少只有一种命运被他认为是不可避免而又可鄙的。对其余而言，他则自知是自己生活的主人。就在人回看自己生活的微妙时刻，也就是西西弗斯又回到石头那去的时候，在那微不足道的转折处，他会思索其命运中那一系列毫无关联的行动，由自己施行，在记忆中组合，由他的死亡封存。因此，他相信有关人性的一切完全源自人性，如渴望知道有谁明白黑夜无边的盲人一样，仍然在前进。石头还在滚动。

我把西西弗斯留在山脚！人们总会一次又一次地找回自己的负担。但西西弗斯告诫我们，还有更高的忠实，它可以否定神灵，举起巨石。他最终也发现，一切安好。从此，这个没有主人的宇宙在他看来，既不贫瘠，也非无望。那块石头的每一颗微粒，那座夜色笼罩的山上的每一片矿石，本身都是一个世界。迈向高处的挣扎足够填充一个人的心灵。人们应当想象西西弗斯是快乐的。

[1]罗马神话中的人物，他是科林斯的建城者和国王。希腊古时的暴君，死后坠入地狱，被罚推石上山，但石在近山顶时又滚下，于是重新再推，如此循环不息。——译者注

[2]罗马神话中的河神。——译者注

[3]罗马神话中的人物，天空的统治者，部分神和人间英雄的父亲。——译者注

[4]罗马神话中的人物，地狱的统治者。——译者注

[5]罗马神话中的人物，众神的使者，商业、发明之神，盗窃的守护神。——译者注

[6]客西马尼园，福音书中所说的耶稣被犹大出卖而被大祭司抓捕前所在的地方，位于橄榄山下。耶稣在此作了最后的祷告，而门徒此时都在沉睡。——译者注

[7]希腊神话中忒拜的国王拉伊奥斯和王后约卡斯塔的儿子，他在不知情的情况下，杀死了自己的父亲并娶了自己的母亲。得知真相后，俄狄浦斯刺瞎了自己的双眼，在安提戈涅（他与母亲所生的女儿）的牵引之下漂泊四方。——译者注

[8]大约公元前496—406，雅典人，雅典三大悲剧作家之一，代表作为《俄狄浦斯王》。——译者注

附录

卡夫卡作品中的希望与荒谬

卡夫卡的全部艺术所在就是强迫读者重读。其作品的结尾，或作品结尾的缺失，反映的是这样的阐释意义，它们没有用清楚明白的语言提示出来，反而需要读者从另一个视角重读故事，直至意义得到证实。有时对作品的阐释可能会有两种结果，所以有必要进行二次阅读，这便是作者想要的。可是如果对卡夫卡作品中的所有东西都细致入微地进行解读，也不合适。象征总是普遍意义上的，不论其翻译多么精准，艺术家也只能还原它的整体趋向：不存在字对字的翻译。况且，没有比象征作品更难理解的东西了。一种象征往往超越了运用这种象征的人，使他实际所说多于他有意识要表达的。从这一点来说，把握这种象征的最可靠办法就是不要去激发意象，不要抱着一种先入为主的态度开始这项任务，不要去找寻藏匿的暗流。特别是对于卡夫卡而言，遵循他的规则，通过外部因素看戏剧冲突，通过形式读他的小说，是说得过去的。

对于漫不经心的读者来说，乍看，它们都是些让人不安的历险，人物在颤抖中坚韧不拔，探索着自己从不明确的问题。在《审判》中，约瑟夫·K被指控了，但他不知道因何罪名。他无疑极想为自己辩护，但还是不知道为什么。律师觉得他的案子很难办，在此期间他也不忘吃饭、读报、恋爱。然后他被审判了，但法庭很黑暗。他有很多不理解，只知道自己被判有罪，但是是什么罪他也不去想。有时他会对这事产生一些怀疑，但还是继续活着。没过多久，两个穿着考究的绅士模样的警官找到他，请他和他们走一趟。他们非常客气地把他引到一个废弃的郊外，将他的头搁在一块石头上，割破了他的喉咙。死前这个有罪之人只是说了一句：“像条狗”。

你可以看到，在一个最明显的特征恰好是自然性的故事里，很难扯上象征。自然性是很难理解的一种范畴，有些作品中的事件对读者而言是自然的，而在其他（当然很少）作品中，对角色而言，他认为发生在自己身上的事是自然的。有一个奇怪但是很明显的悖论，角色的经历越不同寻常，故事的自然性就越显著：一个人的生活是怪异的，而他则简简单单地接受了这种生活，两者之间存在着不一致，而这种不一致决定了这种自然性。似乎这种自然性就是卡夫卡式的，而人们也非常了解《审判》的意思是什么。人们已经论及人类状况的一种形象，这是毋庸置疑的，但这让问题既简单又复杂起来。我是指小说的意义为卡夫卡个人专有。从某种程度上看，拥有发言权的是他，尽管他承认说是我们在发言。他在生活，他被判有罪。从小说的前几页中，他就认识到了这一点，那是他在这个世界上的追求。然而一旦他力求应付这一点，他丝毫不惊奇自己能够做到。对自己缺乏惊诧之情，他永远也不会表现出诧异。荒谬作品的初始迹象正是通过这些矛盾被辨认出来。思想会把自己的精神悲剧投射到具体的事物上，而该做法凭借的只是一种永久性的悖论，这种悖论为色彩赋予了表达虚无的能力，为日常行为赋予了传达永恒企望的力量。

同样，《城堡》或许是某种行动上的神学，但首先它是一个个体的历险，一种心灵的历险，一种人的历险，那心灵追求优雅，那人向世界客体追问他们高贵的秘密，向女人们诘问沉睡在她们心中的诸神的信息。自然，《变形记》进而代表了一种清醒的道德准则的可怕意象，而这种结果的出现同样是由于，人们在意识到自己不费吹灰之力便表现出的兽性时，会感到惊愕不已。在这种基本的晦涩中便掩藏着卡夫卡的秘诀。这些永久性的振动——从自然到特别，从个体到普遍，从悲剧到平庸，从荒谬到逻辑，贯穿于他的作品，赋予它共鸣与意义。必须一一列举这些悖论，强化这些矛盾，方能理解荒谬的作品。

实际上，一种象征表现了两个平面，思想与感觉的两种世界，以及包含他们之间一致性的词典。这一词典是最难拟定的，然而意识到这两个面对面的世界就相当于寻到了其诀窍之间关系的踪迹。在卡夫卡那里，这两个世界一方是日常生活的世界，另一方是超自然渴望的世界。[1]似乎在这里我们见证了尼采的话被没完没了地利用：“重大问题比比皆是。”

人的生活状况（而且这是所有文学作品的共性）中不仅有一种不可替代的高贵，还有一种基本的荒谬性，两者巧遇，天然成趣。我重申，人类精神中的无人性部分与肉体的短暂快乐之间产生了荒唐的分裂，而在这种分裂中两者都得到了突显。荒谬的是，产生这种分裂的应该是属于这个身体的心灵，而它不加节制地超越了这身体。任何想表现这种荒谬性的人都必须在一系列相似的对比中予之生命，所以卡夫卡用平庸来表达悲剧，用逻辑来表达荒谬。

演员对一个悲剧角色投入的精力越多，他就越会小心翼翼不去夸大。如果他的表现有节制，那么他激起的恐惧就会没有节制。在这一方面，希腊悲剧让人受益匪浅。在一部悲剧作品中，命运往往在逻辑性与自然性的伪装下得到更好的突显。俄狄浦斯的悲剧提前就得到昭示。他会实施谋杀与乱伦，这是冥冥之中就已经确定的。戏剧全心致力于表现这种逻辑体系，这种体系会通过一步步的推理最终让英雄人物的不幸达到顶点。仅仅告知我们这种不寻常的命运几乎没什么恐怖可言，因为那是不可能发生的事。可是如果其发生的必然性是通过由日常生活、社会、状态、熟悉的情感构成的体系展示给我们的，那么恐惧就变得神圣起来。使人产生动摇的反抗逼迫人说“那是不可能的”，而在这种反抗中有一种让人感到绝望的确定性元素，而这种确定性可能就是“那一点”。

这便是希腊悲剧的全部奥秘，或者是其奥秘的一个方面，因为还有一种相反的方式可以帮助我们更好地理解卡夫卡。人心有一种不良倾向，只把让它崩溃的东西称为命运。但快乐同样也是不需要理由的，它会以自己的方式出现，因为它是不可避免的。然而，现代人一旦意识到了这一点，他就会把功劳都归到自己身上。相反，关于希腊悲剧的特权命运，以及那些被传奇故事所钟爱的人物，有很多值得大书特书。这些处在最困难处境的人，例如尤利西斯[2]，脱离了自我。要返回伊萨卡岛[3]并没有那么容易。

无论如何一定不能忘了将逻辑、平庸与悲剧联系到一起的秘密同谋。这便是为何《变形记》的主人公，有着怪异奇遇的萨姆沙，在变成一只虫子后，唯一困扰他的是，老板会对他的缺勤而生气。他身上长出了多条腿和触角，脊椎拱起，肚子上出现了白点——我不能说这不令他惊讶，因为那样的话艺术效果会变质——这给他造成了“一丝烦恼”。卡夫卡的全部艺术所在就是这种特色。在其核心之作《城堡》中，平庸生活的细节突显出来，但在这部没有终结而一切又重新开始的怪诞小说中，表现出的是一种追求优雅的灵魂所必经的历险。在每一个属于伟大创造者的小伎俩中，同样可以找到那种问题到行动的转化，那种一般与特殊的重合。在《审判》中，主人公或许该取名为史密特或弗兰兹·卡夫卡，可是他却被叫做约瑟夫·K。他不是卡夫卡，可他又是卡夫卡。他是一个普通的欧洲人，同所有其他人一样，但他同样是一个实体的K，是这一血肉等式中的未知数。

同样，如果卡夫卡想表达荒谬的话，他可以运用一致性。你一定知道那个疯子在浴缸钓鱼的故事。一个精神病治疗医师问他“鱼有没有上钩”，他得到了毫不客气的回答：“当然没有，你个傻瓜，这是浴缸。”这是一个具有巴罗克风格的故事，但是从故事中可以非常清晰地体会到这种荒谬的影响在多大程度上与一种过度的逻辑相联系。卡夫卡的世界事实上是一种难以描绘的宇宙，人们在其中恣意享受这种在浴缸钓鱼的折磨人的奢华，明知自己会一无所获。

于此我看到的是一个有着荒谬原则的作品。例如，就《审判》而言，我的确可以说这是一次完全的胜利。肉体胜出，什么也不缺失：不缺少那种未明确表达的反抗（但这显示在文字之中），不缺少清醒而沉默的绝望（但这显示在创造之中），也不缺少小说人物直至最后死亡还在展示的那种令人惊叹的自由态度。

但这个世界并没有它看起来那么封闭。在这个停滞不前的宇宙，卡夫卡将引入一种特殊形式的希望。从这一点上说，《审判》与《城堡》没有遵循同样的方向，它们之间是相互补充的关系。这种由此及彼的前进，代表了逃避领域中一种巨大的征服，很难被察觉。《审判》提出一个问题，《城堡》从某种程度上解决这一问题。前者按照一种类科学的方法描述，没有作结论；后者从一定程度上说，采用了解释的方式。《审判》作诊断，《城堡》设想了一种治疗方法，但这里提出的补救办法不会治愈病情，只是把这种病又带回到正常生活中，使人们从某种意义上（我们可以想见克尔凯郭尔）对之加以珍视。土地测量员K除了折磨自己的焦虑外，无法想象还有其他焦虑。他四周那些人依附于那种虚无的无名之痛，似乎痛苦显现出一种特权面貌。弗丽达对K说：“自从认识了你，当你不在的时候，我是多么地需要你，我感到那么的孤独。”这种巧妙的补救办法让我们去爱摧毁自己的东西，使希望从一个没有出口的世界一跃而起，这一突然的“跨跃”让一切都改变了，而这便是这场存在性革命与《城堡》本身的奥秘。

很少有作品能在其发展中比《城堡》还要严密。被称为城堡土地测量员的K，到了村子里。可是从村子到城堡，要沟通是很难的。在数百页的描写中，K坚持搜寻自己的道路，不断前进，运用花招与各种权宜之计，从不愠怒，试图带着一种不安的善意来承担托付给自己的责任。每一章都有一种新的障碍，也是一个新的开始，它不是一种逻辑的方法，却是连贯的。这种连贯性的范围便构成了作品的悲剧特征。当K打电话给城堡时，他听到的是困惑而混杂的声音，模糊不清的笑声，从远方传来的诱惑。这足以满足他的愿望，正如那些出现在夏日天空中的若干迹象，或是那些夜晚的期盼一样，它们是我们生活下去的理由。这里我们发现了为卡夫卡所独有的忧郁的奥秘。实际上，在普鲁斯特的作品或者普罗提诺[4]的领域中，也能发现同样的东西：对一种失去的天堂的怀恋。奥尔加说：“巴纳巴斯早上跟我说他要去城堡时，我很伤心，那很可能是徒劳的旅程，没有希望，还浪费时间。”卡夫卡把他整个作品的赌注都压在这一暗示性的表达上——“很可能”。然而于事无补，这里对永久性的追求是小心翼翼的。卡夫卡的人物，那些被激发起的机械人，为我们提供了一种精确形象，即当我们被剥夺了自己的消遣[5]并被完全移交给神圣的耻辱时所具有的形象。

在《城堡》中，那种对平庸的屈从成了一种道德准则。K非常希望城堡能接收他，由于无法独自达成这一愿望，他便竭尽全力想成为这个村子的居民，丢掉大家对他的陌生感，以此赢得那种特权。他想要的是一份职业，一个家，一个健康的正常人应有的生活。他再也忍受不了这种疯癫，他想变得理性起来。他想摆脱那种奇特的诅咒，这种诅咒让他与这个村子形同陌路。有关弗丽达的插曲从这一点上说是有意义的。倘若他让这个认识一名城堡官员的女人做自己的情妇，那是因为她的过去。他从她身上得到一些超越自己的东西——同时他也知道是什么让她永远也抵不上城堡。这会让人想起克尔凯郭尔对雷吉娜·奥尔森异常的爱情。在有些人身上，燃烧他们的永恒之火足够他们烧毁离自己最近的人。把不是上帝的东西交给上帝这一致命的错误，同样是《城堡》中这一段插曲的主题，但是对于卡夫卡来说，这似乎算不上错误，而是一种教义，一种“跨跃”。没有什么东西不是上帝的。

更加意味深长的是，土地测量员和弗丽达分手这一事实，分手为的是走近巴纳巴斯的姐妹们，要知道巴纳巴斯家可是村子里唯一被城堡还有这个村子所完全遗弃的。大女儿阿马利娅拒绝了一个城堡官员给她的可耻建议，而那随之而来的咒骂让她永远也得不到上帝的爱。不能为了上帝而失去自己的荣誉，就等于说不配得到上帝的恩慈。你会看出一个为存在哲学所熟悉的主题：与道德相反的真实，在这一点上还是有深远意义的。因为卡夫卡的英雄人物——从弗丽达到巴纳巴斯的姐妹——所追寻的道路，正是从相信爱到崇拜荒谬。在这里卡夫卡的思想又与克尔凯郭尔的相类似。“巴纳巴斯”的故事被安置在书的最后，这是不足为奇的。土地测量员的最后一次尝试是通过否定他的东西重新捕获上帝，是去辨识上帝，根据的不是我们美好与美丽的范畴，而是自己淡漠、不公与仇恨的虚无与丑恶的面貌。那个请求城堡接收自己的陌生人在行程的最后更加感到自己被放逐了，因为他没有忠于自己，抛弃了道义、逻辑以及思智上的真理，为的是进入上帝慈悲的荒漠，而他与生俱来的只是狂热的希望。[6]

“希望”这个词用在这里并不荒唐。相反，卡夫卡所描绘的状态越悲剧，希望就变得越有攻击性。《审判》越表现出真实的荒谬，《城堡》表现出的慷慨激昂的“跨跃”就越动人，越不合情理，但是在这一种纯粹的状态中我们又发现了存在主义思想的悖论，正如人们对它的论述一样。例如，克尔凯郭尔说：“一定要扼杀掉世俗的希望；只有到那时人才能被真正的希望所拯救。”这句话可以这么解释：“人要想了解《城堡》必先写作《审判》。”

诚然，论及卡夫卡的大部分人将他的作品定义为一种绝望的呼喊，不给人任何求助的希望，然而这话有待考量。他的作品中不止一种希望。在我看来，亨利·波尔多[7]乐观向上的作品独有一种沮丧，这是因为他的作品无所区别，而马尔罗[8]的作品相反总是让人感到神清气爽，但关于两部作品共同的希望与绝望都没有疑义。我只发现，荒谬的作品本身就能导致我想要避免的不忠。这种作品只是一种无果状态的无效重复，是对短暂生命的冷静赞美，在此成了幻想的摇篮。它作解释，它赋予希望以形状。创造者再也无法将自己置身事外，它并非昔日的那个悲剧游戏，而是赋予作者以生命。

奇怪的是，不管怎样，卡夫卡也好，克尔恺郭尔也好，甚至是舍斯托夫——简言之这些都是存在主义的小说家和哲学家，都旨在揭示荒谬及其后果，他们那有着相关启发性的作品从长远来看，应该会激起那声对希望的嘹亮的呼唤。

他们拥抱这位吞噬自己的上帝。希望正是通过谦卑才借机进入，因为这种存在的荒谬性向他们确保了一种更超自然的现实。倘若这种生活轨迹最终引向上帝，那么毕竟还是有一种结果的。而克尔凯郭尔、舍斯托夫和卡夫卡的英雄们在行程中的坚持不懈与锲而不舍，为那种确定性所带来的振奋人心的力量提供了一种特殊保证。[9]

卡夫卡拒绝将自己道德上的高贵、清晰、美德与连贯性托付于自己的神，只想更好地落入其怀抱。荒谬被认可与接受，人要顺从于它，但从那时起我们知道它已不再是荒谬了。在人类状态的范围内，还有比容许从这种状态中逃脱的希望更伟大的希望吗？正如我再次所见，存在主义思想在这方面如置身于浩瀚希望之海的一叶扁舟。正是这种希望在早期基督教以及信息传播的时代点燃了旧世界。然而在塑造了一切存在主义思想特征的跨跃中，在那种坚持中，在对一种没有表象的神明的调查中，怎能看不到那否定自身的清醒之标志呢？人们仅仅把这称之为骄傲，为了自我救赎而可放弃的骄傲。这样一种否定应是成果颇丰的，但这改变不了那一事实。在我眼里，清醒的道德标准同所有骄傲一样，不会因被称作无效而降低，要知道，一种真理在其定义下也是无效的。一切事实皆如此。在一个万物既定、无所解释的世界，一种价值或超自然的多产性，是一种没有实义的概念。

无论如何，于此你可以了解卡夫卡的作品遵循了何种思想传统。把从《审判》到《城堡》的发展看作不可避免，这是明智的。约瑟夫·K和土地测量员K只是吸引卡夫卡的两极。用他的话说就是，其作品很有可能并不荒谬，但这不应成为我们发现其高贵性与普遍性的阻碍。它们的出现得益于这一事实，即他极其充分地表现了从希望到忧伤，从绝望的智慧到有意的盲目这种平庸的过程。他的作品具有普遍性（一种真正荒谬的作品不具有普遍性），它表现了人受情感触动的面容；这种人逃避人性，从自己的诸多矛盾中得到信仰的理由，并在丰富的绝望中发现希望之光，把生活作为死亡所做的恐怖练习。这具有普遍性，因为其灵感具有宗教性质。如一切宗教一样，信仰它的人不会感到自己生命的重量。但是如果我知道这一点，如果我甚至可以赞赏它，我同样也能知道我追寻的不是普遍性的东西，而是真实的东西。两者完全不可能共存。

如果我说，真正无望的思想碰巧是由相反的标准界定的，悲剧作品或许描写的是一个乐天派的生活，其所有未来的希望都被放逐了，或许那一特殊的观点会更好理解。生活越是有波澜，想失去它的想法就越荒谬。这或许是在尼采作品中所感觉到的那种高傲的贫瘠之奥秘。在这种联系中，尼采似乎是从荒谬中得出一种美学的极端后果的唯一艺术家，因为他传递给我们的最后信息就是一种贫瘠而具有征服性的冷静，以及一种对任何形而上慰藉的坚决否定。

然而以上足以突出卡夫卡在本书结构中的重要地位，我们在此涉及了人类思想的局限。从这个词最广泛的意义上看，可以说其作品没有一处是不必要的。不管怎样，它全面提出了荒谬问题。假如有人想将这些结论与我们之前的论述作对比，将内容与形式作对比，将《城堡》的隐秘含义与塑造它的自然艺术作对比，将K充满激情与自豪感的追求与它发生的平庸背景作对比，那么人们就会意识到它的伟大所在了。因为如果怀旧是人类的标志，或许没有人会赋予这些悔恨的幽灵以这种热血与内容。但同时人们也会感知到这种荒谬作品需要什么独特的高贵，或许在这里是找不到的。如果艺术的本质就是联结普通与特殊，联结一滴水的短暂永恒与其光彩的闪烁，那么通过他所展现的这两种世界间的距离来判断这位荒谬作家的伟大性，将变得更加合理。他的诀窍就是找到两种世界在最不相称之时的相遇点。

老实说，心底纯净的人到处都能发现这种人性与非人性交汇的几何轨迹。如果说浮士德与堂吉诃德是杰出的艺术创作，那是因为他们用自己世俗的双手为我们指出了那些不可计量的高贵性。可是头脑对他们双手触及的事实会加以否定，这一刻终会到来。这一刻来了，创造便不再被当作悲剧看待，只是被严肃地对待。那时的人是有希望的，但这不是他要做的事。他要做的是远离欺骗。而这正是我在卡夫卡对整个宇宙发出的强烈诉求之末所发现的。他的令人难以置信的裁决是：在这个丑陋而搅乱人心的世界里，即使鼹鼠也敢奢谈希望。[10]

[1]值得注意的是，卡夫卡的作品可以从一种社会批评的角度去非常合理地解读（例如《审判》），而且极有可能没有选择的必要，两种解读都不错。从荒谬层面来看，我们前面已提到，对人的反抗针对的同样是上帝：伟大的革命总是形而上的。

[2]古希腊史诗《奥德赛》中的英雄。——译者注

[3]希腊西部爱奥尼亚海中群岛之一，是尤利西斯的故乡。——译者注

[4]普罗提诺（约205—270），罗马新柏拉图派哲学家。——译者注

[5]在《城堡》中，似乎帕斯卡式的“消遣”是由把K从他的焦虑中“分离”出来的助手来表现的。如果弗丽达最终成了其中一个助手的情妇，那是因为她更喜欢现实中的舞台，那可以分享痛苦的平庸生活。

[6]显然这只适用于卡夫卡所留给我们的《城堡》的未完成版本，但让人疑惑的是，作者在最后几章可能破坏了其小说基调的一致性。

[7]亨利·波尔多（1870—1963），法国作家，传统主义流派的代表人物之一，法兰西学院院士。——译者注

[8]安德烈·马尔罗（1901—1976），法国小说家、评论家。——译者注

[9]《城堡》中唯一不怀希望的人物是阿马利娅，土地测量员与她形成最强烈的对比。

[10]以上所述显然是对卡夫卡作品的一种解读，然而除解读外，只有说明没有什么可以阻挠人们从一种纯美学视角去思考它，才是合理的。比如，B.格罗图森在他给《审判》所作的不同寻常的序中，就只限于阐述他所谓的空想家（这种说法极为引人注目）的种种痛苦幻想，他比我们要明智得多。小说描述了一切，又什么也没有加以肯定，这是命运，或许也是该作品的伟大之处。

An Absurd Reasoning

The pages that follow deal with an absurd sensitivity that can be found widespread in the age — and not with an absurd philosophy which our time, properly speaking, has not known. It is therefore simply fair to point out, at the outset, what these pages owe to certain contemporary thinkers. It is so far from my intention to hide this that they will be found cited and commented upon throughout this work.

But it is useful to note at the same time that the absurd, hitherto taken as a conclusion, is considered in this essay as a starting point. In this sense it may be said that there is something provisional in my commentary: one cannot prejudge the positionit entails. There will be found here merely the description, in the pure state, of an intellectual malady. No metaphysic, no belief is involved in it for a moment. These are the limits and the only bias of this book. Certain personal experiences urge me to make this clear.

Absurdity and Suicide

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest — whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories — comes afterwards. These are games; one must first answer. And if it is true, as Nietzsche claims, that a philosopher, to deserve our respect, must preach by example, you can appreciate the importance of that reply, for it will precede the definitive act. These are facts the heart can feel; yet they call for careful study before they become clear to the intellect.

If I ask myself how to judge that this question is more urgent than that, I reply that one judges by the actions it entails. I have never seen anyone die for the ontological argument. Galileo who held a scientific truth of great importance abjured it with the greatest ease as soon as it endangered his life. In a certain sense, he did fight.[1] That truth was not worth the stake. Whether the earth or the sun revolves around the other is a matter of profound indifference. To tell the truth, it is a futile question. On the other hand, I see many people die because they judge that life is not worth living. I see others paradoxically getting killed for the ideas or illusions that give them a reason for living （what is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying）. I therefore conclude that the meaning of life is the most urgent of questions. How to answer it? On all essential problems （I mean thereby those that run the risk of leading to death or those that intensify the passion of living）there are probably but two methods of thought: the method of La Palisse and the method of Don Quixote. Solely the balance between evidence and lyricism can allow us to achieve simultaneously emotion and lucidity. In a subject at once so humble and so heavy with emotion, the learned and classical dialectic must yield, one can see, to a more modest attitude of mind deriving at one and the same time from common sense and understanding.

Suicide has never been dealt with except as a social phenomenon. On the contrary, we are concerned here, at the outset, with the relationship between individual thought and suicide. An act like this is prepared within the silence of the heart, as is a great work of art. The man himself is ignorant of it. One evening he pulls the trigger or jumps. Of an apartment-building manager who had killed himself I was told that he had lost his daughter five years before, that he had changed greatly since and that experience had ‘undermined’ him. A more exact word cannot be imagined. Beginning to think is beginning to be undermined. Society has but little connection with such beginnings. The worm is in man’s heart. That is where it must be sought. One must follow and understand this fatal game that leads from lucidity in the face of experience to flight from light.

There are many causes for a suicide and generally the most obvious ones were not the most powerful. Rarely is suicide committed （yet the hypothesis is not excluded）through reflection. What sets off the crisis is almost always unverifiable. Newspapers often speak of ‘personal sorrows’ or of ‘incurable illness’. These explanations are plausible. But one would have to know whether a friend of the desperate man had not that very day addressed him indifferently. He is the guilty one. For that is enough to precipitate all the rancours and all the boredom still in suspension.[2]

But if it is hard to fix the precise instant, the subtle step when the mind opted for death, it is easier to deduce from the act itself the consequences it implies. In a sense, and as in melodrama, killing yourself amounts to confessing. It is confessing that life is too much for you or that you do not understand it. Let’s not go too far in such analogies, however, but rather return to everyday words. It is merely confessing that that ‘is not worth the trouble’. Living, naturally, is never easy. You continue making the gestures commanded by existence for many reasons, the first of which is habit. Dying voluntarily implies that you have recognized, even instinctively, the ridiculous character of that habit, the absence of any profound reason for living, the insane character of that daily agitation and the uselessness of suffering.

What then is that incalculable feeling that deprives the mind of the sleep necessary to life? A world that can be explained even with bad reasons is a familiar world. But, on the other hand, in a universe suddenly divested of illusions and lights, man feels an alien, a stranger. His exile is without remedy since he is deprived of the memory of a lost home or the hope of a promised land. This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity. All healthy men having thought of their own suicide, it can be seen, without further explanation, that there is a direct connection between this feeling and the longing for death.

The subject of this essay is precisely this relationship between the absurd and suicide, the exact degree to which suicide is a solution to the absurd. The principle can be established that for a man who does not cheat what he believes to be true must determine his action. Belief in the absurdity of existence must then dictate his conduct. It is legitimate to wonder, clearly and without false pathos, whether a conclusion of this importance requires forsaking as rapidly as possible an incomprehensible condition. I am speaking, of course, of men inclined to be in harmony with themselves.

Stated clearly, this problem may seem both simple and insoluble. But it is wrongly assumed that simple questions involve answers that are no less simple and that evidence implies evidence. A priori and reversing the terms of the problem, just as one does or does not kill oneself, it seems that there are but two philosophical solutions, either yes or no. This would be too easy. But allowance must be made for those who, without concluding, continue questioning. Here I am only slightly indulging in irony: this is the majority. I notice also that those who answer ‘no’ act as if they thought ‘yes’. As a matter of fact, if I accept the Nietzschean criterion, they think yes in one way or another. On the other hand, it often happens that those who commit suicide were assured of the meaning of life. These contradictions are constant. It may even be said that they have never been so keen as on this point where, on the contrary, logic seems so desirable. It is a commonplace to compare philosophical theories and the behaviour of those who profess them. But it must be said that of the thinkers who refused a meaning to life none except Kirilov who belongs to literature, Peregrinos who is born of legend,[3] and Jules Lequier who belongs to hypothesis, admitted his logic to the point of refusing that life. Schopenhauer is often cited, as a fit subject for laughter, because he praised suicide while seated at a well-set table. This is no subject for joking. That way of not taking the tragic seriously is not so grievous, but it helps to judge a man.

In the face of such contradictions and obscurities must we conclude that there is no relationship between the opinion one has about life and the act one commits to leave it? Let us not exaggerate in this direction. In a man’s attachment to life there is something stronger than all the ills in the world. The body’s judgement is as good as the mind’s and the body shrinks from annihilation. We get into the habit of living before acquiring the habit of thinking. In that race which daily hastens us towards death, the body maintains its irreparable lead. In short, the essence of that contradiction lies in what I shall call the act of eluding because it is both less and more than diversion in the Pascalian sense. Eluding is the invariable game. The typical act of eluding, the fatal evasion that constitutes the third theme of this essay, is hope. Hope of another life one must ‘deserve’ or trickery of those who live, not for life itself, but for some great idea that will transcend it, refine it, give it a meaning, and betray it.

Thus everything contributes to spreading confusion. Hitherto, and it has not been wasted effort, people have played on words and pretended to believe that refusing to grant a meaning to life necessarily leads to declaring that it is not worth living. In truth, there is no necessary common measure between these two judgements. One merely has to refuse to be misled by the confusions, divorces, and inconsistencies previously pointed out. One must brush everything aside and go straight to the real problem. One kills oneself because life is not worth living, that is certainly a truth — yet an unfruitful one because it is a truism. But does that insult to existence, that flat denial in which it is plunged come from the fact that it has no meaning? Does its absurdity require one to escape it through hope or suicide — this is what must be clarified, hunted down and elucidated while brushing aside all the rest. Does the Absurd dictate death? This problem must be given priority over others, outside all methods of thought and all exercises of the disinterested mind. Shades of meaning, contradictions, the psychology that an ‘objective’ mind can always introduce into all problems have no place in this pursuit and this passion. It calls simply for an unjust, in other words logical, thought. That is not easy. It is always easy to be logical. It is almost impossible to be logical to the bitter end. Men who die by their own hand consequently follow to its conclusion their emotional inclination. Reflection on suicide gives me an opportunity to raise the only problem to interest me: is there a logic to the point of death? I cannot know unless I pursue, without reckless passion, in the sole light of evidence, the reasoning of which I am here suggesting the source. This is what I call an absurd reasoning. Many have begun it. I do not yet know whether or not they kept to it.

When Karl Jaspers, revealing the impossibility of constituting the world as a unity, exclaims: ‘This limitation leads me to myself, where I can no longer withdraw behind an objective point of view that I am merely representing, where neither I myself nor the existence of others can any longer become an object for me,’ he is evoking after many others those waterless deserts where thought reaches its confines. After many others, yes indeed, but how eager they were to get out of them! At that last crossroad where thought hesitates, many men have arrived and even some of the humblest. They then abdicated what was most precious to them, their life. Others, princes of the mind, abdicated likewise, but they initiated the suicide of their thought in its purest revolt. The real effort is to stay there, rather, in so far as that is possible, and to examine closely the odd vegetation of those distant regions. Tenacity and acumen are privileged spectators of this inhuman show in which absurdity, hope and death carry on their dialogue. The mind can then analyse the figures of that elementary yet subtle dance before illustrating them and reliving them itself.

Absurd Walls

Like great works, deep feelings always mean more than they are conscious of saying. The regularity of an impulse or a repulsion in a soul is encountered again in habits of doing or thinking, is reproduced in consequences of which the soul itself knows nothing. Great feelings take with them their own universe, splendid or abject. They light up with their passion an exclusive world in which they recognize their climate. There is a universe of jealousy, of ambition, of selfishness or of generosity. A universe — in other words a metaphysic and an attitude of mind. What is true of already specialized feelings will be even more so of emotions basically as indeterminate, simultaneously as vague and as ‘definite’ , as remote and as ‘present’ as those furnished us by beauty or aroused by absurdity.

At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face. As it is, in its distressing nudity, in its light without effulgence, it is elusive. But that very difficulty deserves reflection. It is probably true that a man remains for ever unknown to us and that there is in him something irreducible that escapes us. But practically I know men and recognize them by their behaviour, by the totality of their deeds, by the consequences caused in life by their presence. Likewise, all those irrational feelings which offer no purchase to analysis. I can define them practically, appreciate them practically, by gathering together the sum of their consequences in the domain of the intelligence, by seizing and noting all their aspects, by outlining their universe. It is certain that apparently, though I have seen the same actor a hundred times, I shall not for that reason know him any better personally. Yet if I add up the heroes he has personified and if I say that I know him a little better at the hundredth character counted off , this will be felt to contain an element of truth. For this apparent paradox is also an apologue. There is a moral to it. It teaches that a man defines himself by his make-believe as well as by his sincere impulses. There is thus a lower key of feelings, inaccessible in the heart but partially disclosed by the acts they imply and the attitudes of mind they assume. It is clear that in this way I am defining a method. But it is also evident that that method is one of analysis and not of knowledge. For methods imply metaphysics; unconsciously they disclose conclusions that they often claim not to know yet. Similarly the last pages of a book are already contained in the first pages. Such a link is inevitable. The method defined here acknowledges the feeling that all true knowledge is impossible. Solely appearances can be enumerated and the climate make itself felt.

Perhaps we shall be able to overtake that elusive feeling of absurdity in the different but closely related worlds of intelligence, of the art of living, or of art itself. The climate of absurdity is in the beginning. The end is the absurd universe and that attitude of mind which lights the world with its true colours to bring out the privileged and implacable visage which that attitude has discerned in it.

All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning. Great works are often born on a street-corner or in a restaurant’s revolving door. So it is with absurdity. The absurd world more than others derives its nobility from that abject birth. In certain situations, replying ‘nothing’ when asked what one is thinking about may be pretence in a man. Those who are loved are well aware of this. But if that reply is sincere, if it symbolizes that odd state of soul in which the void becomes eloquent, in which the chain of daily gestures is broken, in which the heart vainly seeks the link that will connect it again, then it is as it were the first sign of absurdity.

It happens that the stage-sets collapse. Rising, tram, four hours in the office or factory, meal, tram, four hours of work, meal, sleep and Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, according to the same rhythm — this path is easily followed most of the time. But one day the ‘why’ arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement. ‘Begins’ — this is important. Weariness comes at the end of the acts of a mechanical life, but at the same time it inaugurates the impulse of consciousness. It awakens consciousness and provokes what follows. What follows is the gradual return into the chain or it is the definitive awakening. At the end of the awakening comes, in time, the consequence: suicide or recovery. In itself weariness has something sickening about it. Here, I must conclude that it is good. For everything begins with consciousness and nothing is worth anything except through it. There is nothing original about these remarks. But they are obvious; that is enough for a while, during a sketchy reconnaissance in the origins of the absurd. Mere ‘anxiety’ , as Heidegger says, is at the source of everything.

Likewise and during every day of an unillustrious life, time carries us. But a moment always comes when we have to carry it. We live on the future: ‘tomorrow’ , ‘later on’ , ‘when you have made your way’ , ‘you will understand when you are old enough’. Such irrelevancies are wonderful, for, after all, it’s a matter of dying. Yet a time comes when a man notices or says that he is thirty. Thus he asserts his youth. But simultaneously he situates himself in relation to time. He takes his place in it. He admits that he stands at a certain point on a curve that he acknowledges having to travel to its end. He belongs to time and, by the horror that seizes him, he recognizes his worst enemy. Tomorrow, he was longing for tomorrow, whereas everything in him ought to reject it. The revolt of the flesh is the absurd.[4]

A step lower and strangeness creeps in: perceiving that the world is ‘dense’ , sensing to what degree a stone is foreign and irreducible to us, with what intensity nature or a landscape can negate us. At the heart of all beauty lies something inhuman, and these hills, the softness of the sky, the outline of these trees at this very minute lose the illusory meaning with which we had clothed them, henceforth more remote than a lost paradise. The primitive hostility of the world rises up to face us across millennia. For a second we cease to understand it because for centuries we have understood in it solely the images and designs that we had attributed to it beforehand, because henceforth we lack the power to make use of that artifice. The world evades us because it becomes itself again. That stage-scenery masked by habit becomes again what it is. It withdraws at a distance from us. Just as there are days when, under the familiar face of a woman, we see as a stranger her we had loved months or years ago, perhaps we shall come even to desire what suddenly leaves us so alone. But the time has not yet come. Just one thing: that denseness and that strangeness of the world is the absurd.

Men, too, secrete the inhuman. At certain moments of lucidity, the mechanical aspect of their gestures, their meaningless pantomime make silly everything that surrounds them. A man is talking on the telephone behind a glass partition; you cannot hear him but you see his incomprehensible dumb-show: you wonder why he is alive. The discomfort in the face of man’s own inhumanity, this incalculable tumble before the image of what we are, this ‘nausea’ , as a writer of today calls it, is also the absurd. Likewise the stranger who at certain seconds comes to meet us in a mirror, the familiar and yet alarming brother we encounter in our own photographs is also the absurd.

I come at last to death and to the attitude we have to wards it. On this point everything has been said and it is only proper to avoid pathos. Yet one will never be sufficiently surprised that everyone lives as if no one ‘knew’. This is because in reality there is no experience of death. Properly speaking, nothing has been experienced but what has been lived and made conscious. Here, it is barely possible to speak of the experience of others’ deaths. It is a substitute, an illusion, and it never quite convinces us. That melancholy convention cannot be persuasive. The horror comes in reality from the mathematical aspect of the event. If time frightens us, this is because it works out the problem and the solution comes afterwards. All the pretty speeches about the soul will have their contrary convincingly proved, at least for a time. From this inert body on which a slap makes no mark the soul has disappeared. This elementary and definitive aspect of the adventure constitutes the absurd feeling. Under the fatal lighting of that destiny, its uselessness becomes evident. No code of ethics and no effort are justifi able a priori in the face of the cruel mathematics that command our condition.

Let me repeat: all this has been said over and over. I am limiting myself here to making a rapid classification and to pointing out these obvious themes. They run through all literatures and all philosophies. Everyday conversation feeds on them. There is no question of re-inventing them. But it is essential to be sure of these facts in order to be able to question oneself subsequently on the primordial question. I am interested — let me repeat again — not so much in absurd discoveries as in their consequences. If one is assured of these facts, what is one to conclude, how far is one to go to elude nothing? Is one to die voluntarily or to hope in spite of everything? Beforehand, it is necessary to take the same rapid inventory on the plane of the intelligence.

The mind’s first step is to distinguish what is true from what is false. However, as soon as thought reflects itself, what it first discovers is a contradiction. Useless to strive to be convincing in this case. Over the centuries no one has furnished a clearer and more elegant demonstration of the business than Aristotle: ‘The often ridiculed consequence of these opinions is that they destroy themselves. For by asserting that all is true we assert the truth of the contrary assertion and consequently the falsity of our own thesis （for the contrary assertion does not admit that it can be true）. And if one says that all is false, that assertion is itself false. If we declare that solely the assertion opposed to ours is false or else that solely ours is not false, we are nevertheless forced to admit an infinite number of true or false judgements. For the one who expresses a true assertion proclaims simultaneously that it is true, and so on ad infinitum.’

This vicious circle is but the first of a series in which the mind that studies itself gets lost in a giddy whirling. The very simplicity of these paradoxes makes them irreducible. Whatever may be the plays on words and the acrobatics of logic, to understand is above all to unify. The mind’s deepest desire, even in its most elaborate operations, parallels man’s unconscious feelings in the face of his universe: it is an insistence upon familiarity, an appetite for clarity. Understanding the world for a man is reducing it to the human, stamping it with his seal. The cat’s universe is not the universe of the ant-hill. The truism ‘All thought is anthropomorphic’ has no other meaning. Likewise the mind that aims to understand reality can consider itself satisfied only by reducing it to terms of thought. If man realized that the universe like him can love and suffer, he would be reconciled. If thought discovered in the shimmering mirrors of phenomena eternal relations capable of summing them up and summing themselves up in a single principle, then would be seen an intellectual joy of which the myth of the blessed would be but a ridiculous imitation. That nostalgia for unity, that appetite for the absolute illustrates the essential impulse for the human drama. But the fact of that nostalgia’s existence does not imply that it is to be immediately satisfied. For if, bridging the gulf that separates desire from conquest, we assert with Parmenides the reality of the One （whatever it may be）we fall into the ridiculous contra diction of a mind that asserts total unity and proves by its very assertion its own difference and the diversity it claimed to resolve. This other vicious circle is enough to stifle our hopes.

These are again truisms. I shall again repeat that they are not interesting in themselves but in the consequences that can be deduced from them. I know another truism: it tells me that man is mortal. One can nevertheless count the minds that have deduced the extreme conclusions from it. It is essential to consider as a constant point of reference in this essay the regular hiatus between what we fancy we know and what we really know, practical assent and simulated ignorance which allows us to live with ideas which, if we truly put them to the test, ought to upset our whole life. Faced with this inextricable contradiction of the mind, we shall fully grasp the divorce separating us from our own creations. So long as the mind keeps silent in the motionless world of its hopes, everything is reflected and arranged in the unity of its nostalgia. But with its first move this world cracks and tumbles: an infinite number of shimmering fragments is offered to the understanding. We must despair of ever reconstructing the familiar, calm surface which would give us peace of heart. After so many centuries of inquiries, so many abdications among thinkers, we are well aware that this is true for all our knowledge. With the exception of professional rationalists, today people despair of true knowledge. If the only significant history of human thought were to be written, it would have to be the history of its successive regrets and its impotences.

Of whom and of what indeed can I say: ‘I know that!’ This heart within me I can feel, and I judge that it exists. This world I can touch, and I likewise judge that it exists. There ends all my knowledge, and the rest is construction. For if I try to seize this self of which I feel sure, if I try to define and to summarize it, it is nothing but water slipping through my fingers. I can sketch one by one all the aspects it is able to assume, all those likewise that have been attributed to it, this upbringing, this origin, this ardour or these silences, this nobility or this vileness. But aspects cannot be added up. This very heart which is mine will forever remain indefinable to me. Between the certainty I have of my existence and the content I try to give to that assurance, the gap will never be filled. For ever I shall be a stranger to myself. In psychology as in logic, there are truths but no truth. Socrates’ ‘Know thyself’ has as much value as the ‘be virtuous’ of our confessionals. They reveal a nostalgia at the same time as an ignorance. They are sterile exercises on great subjects. They are legitimate only precisely in so far as they are approximate.

And here are trees and I know their gnarled surface, water and I feel its taste. These scents of grass and stars at night, certain evenings when the heart relaxes — how shall I negate this world whose power and strength I feel? Yet all the knowledge on earth will give me nothing to assure me that this world is mine. You describe it to me and you teach me to classify it. You enumerate its laws and in my thirst for knowledge I admit that they are true. You take apart its mechanism and my hope increases. At the final stage you teach me that this wondrous and multi-coloured universe can be reduced to the atom and that the atom itself can be reduced to the electron. All this is good and I wait for you to continue. But you tell me of an invisible planetary system in which electrons gravitate around a nucleus. You explain this world to me with an image. I realize then that you have been reduced to poetry: I shall never know. Have I the time to become indignant? You have already changed theories. So that science that was to teach me everything ends up in a hypothesis, that lucidity founders in metaphor, that uncertainty is resolved in a work of art. What need had I of so many efforts? The soft lines of these hills and the hand of evening on this troubled heart teach me much more. I have returned to my beginning. I realize that if through science I can seize phenomena and enumerate them, I cannot for all that apprehend the world. Were I to trace its entire relief with my finger, I should not know any more. And you give me the choice between a description that is sure but that teaches me nothing and hypotheses that claim to teach me but that are not sure. A stranger to myself and to the world, armed solely with a thought that negates itself as soon as it asserts, what is this condition in which I can have peace only by refusing to know and to live, in which the appetite for conquest bumps into walls that defy its assaults? To will is to stir up paradoxes. Everything is ordered in such a way as to bring into being that poisoned peace produced by thoughtlessness, lack of heart or fatal renunciations.

Hence the intelligence, too, tells me in its way that this world is absurd. Its contrary, blind reason, may well claim that all is clear. I was waiting for proof and longing for it to be fight. But, despite so many pretentious centuries and over the heads of so many eloquent and persuasive men, I know that is false. On this plane, at least, there is no happiness if I cannot know. That universal reason, practical or ethical, that determinism, those categories that explain everything are enough to make a decent man laugh. They have nothing to do with the mind. They negate its profound truth which is to be enchained. In this unintelligible and limited universe, man’s fate henceforth assumes its meaning. A horde of irrationals has sprung up and surrounds him until his ultimate end. In his recovered and now studied lucidity, the feeling of the absurd becomes clear and definite. I said that the world is absurd but I was too hasty. This world in itself is not reasonable, that is all that can be said. But what is absurd is the confrontation of the irrational and the wild longing for clarity whose call echoes in the human heart. The absurd depends as much on man as on the world. For the moment it is all that links them together. It binds them one to the other as only hatred can weld two creatures together. This is all I can discern clearly in this measureless universe where my adventure takes place. Let us pause here. If I hold to be true that absurdity that determines my relationship with life, if I become thoroughly imbued with that sentiment that seizes me in face of the world’s scenes, with that lucidity imposed on me by the pursuit of a science, I must sacrifice everything to these certainties and I must see them squarely to be able to maintain them. Above all, I must adapt my behaviour to them and pursue them in all their consequences. I am speaking here of decency. But I want to know beforehand if thought can live in those deserts.

I already know that thought has at least entered those deserts. There it found its bread. There it realized that it had previously been feeding on phantoms. It justified some of the most urgent themes of human refl ection.

From the moment absurdity is recognized, it becomes a passion, the most harrowing of all. But whether or not one can live with one’s passions, whether or not one can accept their law, which is to burn the heart they simultaneously exalt, that is the whole question. It is not, however, the one we shall ask just yet. It stands at the centre of this experience. There will be time to come back to it. Let us recognize rather those themes and those impulses born of the desert. It will suffice to enumerate them. They, too, are known to all today. There have always been men to defend the rights of the irrational. The tradition of what may be called humiliated thought has never ceased to exist. The criticism of rationalism has been made so often that it seems unnecessary to begin again. Yet our epoch is marked by the rebirth of those paradoxical systems that strive to trip up the reason as if truly it has always forged ahead. But that is not so much a proof of the efficacy of the reason as of the intensity of its hopes. On the plane of history, such a constancy of two attitudes illustrates the essential passion of man torn between his urge towards unity and the clear vision he may have of the walls enclosing him.

But never, perhaps, at any time has the attack on reason been more violent than in ours. Since Zarathustra’s great outburst: ‘By chance it is the oldest nobility in the world. I conferred it upon all things when I proclaimed that above them no eternal will was exercised’; since Kierkegaard’s fatal illness, ‘that malady that leads to death with nothing else following it’ , the significant and tormenting themes of absurd thought have followed one another. Or, at least, and this proviso is of capital importance, the themes of irrational and religious thought. From Jaspers to Heidegger, from Kierkegaard to Chestov, from the phenomenologists to Scheler, on the logical plane and on the moral plane, a whole family of minds related by their nostalgia but opposed by their methods or their aims, have persisted in blocking the royal road of reason and in recovering the direct paths of truth. Here I assume these thoughts to be known and lived. Whatever may be or have been their ambitions, all started out from that indescribable universe where contradiction, antinomy, anguish or impotence reigns. And what they have in common is precisely the themes so far disclosed. For them, too, it must be said that what matters above all is the conclusions they have managed to draw from those discoveries. That matters so much that they must be examined separately. But for the moment we are concerned solely with their discoveries and their initial experiments. We are concerned solely with noting their agreement. If it would be presumptuous to try to deal with their philosophies, it is possible and sufficient in any case to bring out the climate that is common to them.

Heidegger considers the human condition coldly and announces that that existence is humiliated. The only reality is ‘anxiety’ in the whole chain of beings. To the man lost in the world and its diversions this anxiety is a brief, fleeting fear. But if that fear becomes conscious of itself, it becomes anguish, the perpetual climate of the lucid man ‘in whom existence is concentrated’. This professor of philosophy writes without trembling and in the most abstract language in the world that ‘the finite and limited character of human existence is more primordial than man himself.’ His interest in Kant extends only to recognizing the restricted character of his ‘pure Reason’. This is to conclude at the end of his analyses that ‘the world can no longer offer anything to the man filled with anguish’. This anxiety seems to him so much more important than all the categories in the world that he thinks and talks only of it. He enumerates its aspects: boredom when the ordinary man strives to quash it in him and benumb it; terror when the mind con templates death. He, too, does not separate consciousness from the absurd. The consciousness of death is the call of anxiety and ‘existence then delivers itself its own summons through the intermediary of consciousness’. It is the very voice of anguish and it adjures existence ‘to return from its loss in the anonymous They’. For him, too, one must not sleep but must keep alert until the consummation. He stands in this absurd world and points out its ephemeral character. He seeks his way amidst these ruins.

Jaspers despairs of any ontology because he claims that we have lost ‘naivete’. He knows that we can achieve nothing that will transcend the fatal game of appearances. He knows that the end of the mind is failure. He tarries over the spiritual adventures revealed by history and pitilessly discloses the flaw in each system, the illusion that saved everything, the preaching that hid nothing. In this ravaged world in which the impossibility of knowledge is established, in which everlasting nothingness seems the only reality and irremediable despair seems the only attitude, he tries to discover the ‘Ariadne’s thread’ that leads to divine secrets.

Chestov, for his part, throughout a wonderfully monotonous work, constantly straining towards the same truths, tirelessly demonstrates that the tightest system, the most universal rationalism always stumbles eventually on the irrational of human thought. None of the ironic facts on ridiculous contradictions that depreciate the reason escapes him. One thing only interests him and that is the exception, whether in the domain of the heart or of the mind. Through the Dostoyevskian experiences of the condemned man, the exacerbated adventures of the Nietzschean mind, Hamlet’s imprecations, or the bitter aristocracy of an Ibsen, he tracks down, illuminates and magnifies the human revolt against the irremediable. He refuses the reason its seasons and be gins to advance with some decision only in the middle of that colourless desert where all certainties have become stones.

Of all, perhaps the most engaging, Kierkegaard, for a part of his existence at least, does more than discover the absurd, he lives it. The man who writes: ‘The surest of stubborn silences is not to hold one’s tongue but to talk’ makes sure in the beginning that no truth is absolute or can render satisfactory an existence that is impossible in itself. Don Juan of the understanding, he multiplies pseudonyms and contradictions, writes his Discourses of Edification at the same time as that manual of cynical spiritualism, The Diary of the Seducer. He refuses consolations, ethics, reliable principles. As for that thorn he feels in his heart, he is careful not to quiet its pain. On the contrary, he awakens it and, in the desperate joy of a man crucified and happy to be so, he builds up piece by piece — lucidity, refusal, make- believe — a category of the man possessed. That face both tender and sneering, those pirouettes followed by a cry from the heart are the absurd spirit itself grappling with a reality beyond its comprehension. And the spiritual adventure that leads Kierkegaard to his beloved scandals begins likewise in the chaos of an experience divested of its setting and relegated to its original incoherence.

On quite a different plane, that of method, Husserl and the phenomenologists, by their very extravagances, reinstate the world in its diversity and deny the transcendent power of the reason. The spiritual universe becomes incalculably enriched through them. The rose petal, the milestone, or the human hand are as important as love, desire, or the laws of gravity. Thinking ceases to be unifying or making a semblance familiar in the guise of a major principle. Thinking is learning all over again to see, to be attentive, to focus consciousness; it is turning every idea and every image, in the manner of Proust, into a privileged moment. What justifies thought is its extreme consciousness. Though more positive than Kierkegaard’s or Chestov’s, Husserl’s manner of proceeding, in the beginning, nevertheless negates the classic method of reason, disappoints hope, opens to intuition and to the heart a whole proliferation of phenomena, the wealth of which has about it something inhuman. These paths lead to all sciences or to none. This amounts to saying that in this case the means are more important than the end. All that is involved is ‘an attitude for understanding’ and not a consolation. Let me repeat: in the beginning, at very least.

How can one fail to feel the basic relationship of these minds! How can one fail to see that they take their stand around a privileged and bitter moment in which hope has no further place? I want everything to be explained to me or nothing. And the reason is impotent when it hears this cry from the heart. The mind aroused by this insistence seeks and finds nothing but contradictions and nonsense. What I fail to understand is nonsense. The world is peopled with such irrationals. The world itself, whose single meaning I do not understand, is but a vast irrational. If one could only say just once: ‘this is clear’ , all would be saved. But these men vie with one another in proclaiming that nothing is clear, all is chaos, that all man has is his lucidity and his definite knowledge of the walls surrounding him.

All these experiences agree and confirm one another. The mind, when it reaches its limits, must make a judgement and choose its conclusions. This is where suicide and the reply stand. But I wish to reverse the order of the inquiry and start out from the intelligent adventure and come back to daily acts. The experiences called to mind here were born in the desert that we must not leave behind. At least it is essential to know how far they went. At this point of his effort man stands face to face with the irrational. He feels within him his longing for happiness and for reason. The absurd is born of this confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the world. This must not be forgotten. This must be clung to because the whole consequence of a life can depend on it. The irrational, the human nostalgia, and the absurd that is born of their en counter — these are the three characters in the drama that must necessarily end with all the logic of which an existence is capable.

Philosophical Suicide

The feeling of the absurd is not, for all that, the notion of the absurd. It lays the foundations for it, and that is all. It is not limited to that notion, except in the brief moment when it passes judgement on the universe. Subsequently it has a chance of going further. It is alive; in other words, it must die or else reverberate. So it is with the themes we have gathered together. But there again what interests me is not words or minds, criticism of which would call for another form and another place, but the discovery of what their conclusions have in common. Never, perhaps, have minds been so different. And yet we recognize as identical the spiritual landscapes in which they get under way. Like wise, despite such dissimilar zones of knowledge, the cry that terminates their itinerary tings out in the same way. It is evident that the thinkers we have just recalled have a common climate. To say that that climate is deadly scarcely amounts to playing on words. Living under that stifling sky forces one to get away or to stay. The important thing is to find out how people get away in the first case and why people stay in the second case. This is how I define the problem of suicide and the possible interest in the conclusions of existential philosophy.

But first I want to detour from the direct path. Up to now we have managed to circumscribe the absurd from the outside. One can, however, wonder how much is clear in that notion and by direct analysis try to discover its meaning on the one hand and, on the other, the consequences it involves.

If I accuse an innocent man of a monstrous crime, if I tell a virtuous man that he has coveted his own sister, he will reply that this is absurd. His indignation has its comical aspect. But it also has its fundamental reason. The virtuous man illustrates by that reply the definitive antinomy existing between the deed I am attributing to him and his lifelong principles. ‘It’s absurd’ means ‘It’s impossible’ but also: ‘It’s contradictory’. If I see a man armed only with a sword attack a group of machineguns, I shall consider his act to be absurd. But it is so solely by virtue of the disproportion between his intention and the reality he will encounter, of the contradiction I notice between his true strength and the aim he has in view. Likewise we shall deem a verdict absurd when we contrast it with the verdict the facts apparently dictated. And similarly a demonstration by the absurd is achieved by comparing the consequences of such a reasoning with the logical reality one wants to set up. In all these cases, from the simplest to the most complex, the magnitude of the absurdity will be in direct ratio to the distance between the two terms of my comparison. There are absurd marriages, challenges, rancours, silences, wars and even peace-treaties. For each of them the absurdity springs from a comparison. I am thus justified in saying that the feeling of absurdity does not spring from the mere scrutiny of a fact or an impression but that it bursts from the comparison between a bare fact and a certain reality, between an action and the world that transcends it. The absurd is essentially a divorce. It lies in neither of the elements compared; it is born of their confrontation.

In this particular case and on the plane of intelligence, I can therefore say that the Absurd is not in man （if such a metaphor could have a meaning）nor in the world, but in their presence together. For the moment it is the only bond uniting them. If I wish to limit myself to facts, I know what man wants, I know what the world offers him, and now I can say that I also know what links them. I have no need to dig deeper. A single certainty is enough for the seeker. He simply has to derive all the consequences from it.

The immediate consequence is also a rule of method. The odd trinity brought to light in this way is certainly not a startling discovery. But it resembles the data of experience in that it is both infinitely simple and infinitely complicated. Its first distinguishing feature in this regard is that it cannot be divided. To destroy one of its terms is to destroy the whole. There can be no absurd outside the human mind. Thus, like everything else, the absurd ends with death. But there can be no absurd outside this world either. And it is by this elementary criterion that I judge the notion of the absurd to be essential and consider that it can stand as the first of my truths. The rule of method alluded to above appears here. If I judge that a thing is true, I must preserve it. If I attempt to solve a problem, at least I must not by that very solution conjure away one of the terms of the problem. For me the sole datum is the absurd. The first and, after all, the only condition of my inquiry is to preserve the very thing that crushes me, consequently to respect what I consider essential in it. I have just defined it as a confrontation and an unceasing struggle.

And carrying this absurd logic to its conclusion, I must admit that that struggle implies a total absence of hope （which has nothing to do with despair）, a continual rejection （which must not be confused with renunciation）, and a conscious dissatisfaction （which must not be compared to immature unrest）. Everything that destroys, conjures away, or exercises these requirements （and, to begin with, consent which overthrows divorce）ruins the absurd and devaluates the attitude that may then be proposed. The absurd has meaning only in so far as it is not agreed to.

There exists an obvious fact that seems utterly moral: namely, that a man is always a prey to his truths. Once he has admitted them, he cannot free himself from them. One has to pay something. A man who has become conscious of the absurd is forever bound to it. A man devoid of hope and conscious of being so has ceased to belong to the future. That is natural. But it is just as natural that he should strive to escape the universe of which he is the creator. All the foregoing has significance only on account of this paradox. Certain men, starting from a critique of rationalism, had admitted the absurd climate. Nothing is more instructive in this regard than to scrutinize the way in which they have elaborated their consequences.

Now, to limit myself to existential philosophies, I see that all of them without exception suggest escape. Through an odd reasoning, starting out from the absurd over the ruins of reason, in a closed universe limited to the human, they deify what crushes them and find reason to hope in what impoverishes them. That forced hope is religious in all of them. It deserves attention.

I shall merely analyse here as examples a few themes dear to Chestov and Kierkegaard. But Jaspers will provide us, in caricatural form, a typical example of this attitude. As a result the rest will be clearer. He is left powerless to realize the transcendent, incapable of plumbing the depth of experience and conscious of that universe upset by failure. Will he advance or at least draw the conclusions from that failure? He contributes nothing new. He has found nothing in experience but the confession of his own impotence and no occasion to infer any satisfactory principle. Yet without justification, as he says to himself, he suddenly asserts all at once the transcendent, the essence of experience and the super-human significance of life when he writes: ‘Does not the failure reveal, beyond any possible explanation and interpretation, not the absence but the existence of transcendence?’ That existence which, suddenly and through a blind act of human confidence, explains everything, he defines as ‘the unthinkable unity of the general and the particular’. Thus the absurd becomes god （in the broadest meaning of this word）and that inability to understand becomes the existence that illuminates everything. Nothing logically prepares this reasoning. I can call it a leap. And paradoxically can be understood Jaspers’ insistence, his infinite patience devoted to making the experience of the transcendent impossible to realize. For the more fleeting that approximation is, the more empty that definition proves to be, the more real that transcendent is to him; for the passion he devotes to asserting it is in direct proportion to the gap between his powers of explanation and the irrationality of the world and of experience. It thus appears that the more bitterly Jaspers destroys the reason’s preconceptions the more radically he will explain the world. That apostle of humiliated thought will find at the very end of humiliation the means of regenerating being to its very depth.

Mystical thought has familiarized us with such devices. They are just as legitimate as any attitude of mind. But for the moment I am acting as if I took a certain problem seriously. Without judging beforehand the general value of this attitude or its educative power, I mean simply to consider whether it answers the conditions I set myself, whether it is worthy of the conflict that concerns me. Thus I return to Chestov. A commentator relates a remark of his that deserves interest: ‘The only true solution,’ he said, ‘is precisely where human judgement sees no solution. Otherwise, what need would we have of God? We turn towards God only to obtain the impossible. As for the possible, men suffice.’ If there is a Chestovian philosophy, I can say that it is altogether summed up in this way. For when, at the conclusion of his passionate analyses, Chestov discovers the fundamental absurdity of all existence, he does not say: ‘This is absurd’ , but rather ‘This is God: we must rely on him even if he does not correspond to any of our rational categories’. So that confusion may not be possible, the Russian philosopher even hints that this God is, perhaps, full of hatred and hateful, incomprehensible and contradictory; but the more hideous is his face the more he asserts his power. His grearess is his incoherence. His proof is his in humanity. One must spring into him and by this leap free oneself from rational illusions. Thus, for Chestov, acceptance of the absurd is contemporaneous with the absurd itself. Being aware of it amounts to accepting it, and the whole logical effort of his thought is to bring it out so that at the same time the tremendous hope it involves may burst forth. Let me repeat that this attitude is legitimate. But I am persisting here in considering a single problem and all its consequences. I do not have to examine the emotion of a thought or of an act of faith. I have a whole lifetime to do that. I know that the rationalist finds Chestov’s attitude annoying. But I also feel that Chestov is fight rather than the rationalist and I merely want to know if he remains faithful to the commandments of the absurd.

Now, if it is admitted that the absurd is the contrary of hope, it is seen that existential thought for Chestov pre supposes the absurd but proves it only to dispel it. Such subtlety of thought is a conjuror’s emotional trick. When Chestov elsewhere sets his absurd in opposition to current morality and reason, he calls it truth and redemption. Hence there is basically in that definition of the absurd an approbation that Chestov grants it. If it is admitted that all the power of that notion lies in the way it runs counter to our elementary hopes, if it is felt that to remain, the absurd requires not to be consented to, then it can be clearly seen that it has lost its true aspect, its human and relative character in order to enter an eternity that is both incomprehensible and satisfying. If there is an absurd, it is in man’s universe. The moment the notion transforms itself into eternity’s springboard, it ceases to be linked to human lucidity. The absurd is no longer that evidence that man ascertains without consenting to it. The struggle is eluded. Man integrates the absurd and in that condition causes to disappear its essential character which is opposition, laceration and divorce. This leap is an escape. Chestov, who is fond of quoting Hamlet’s remark, ‘The time is out of joint’ , writes it down with a sort of savage hope that seems to belong to him in particular. For it is not in this sense that Hamlet says it or Shakespeare writes it. The intoxication of the irrational and the vocation of rapture turn a lucid mind away from the absurd. To Chestov reason is useless but there is something beyond reason. To an absurd mind reason is useless and there is nothing beyond reason.

This leap can at least enlighten us a little more as to the true nature of the absurd. We know that it is worthless except in an equilibrium, that it is above all in the comparison and not in the terms of that comparison. But it so happens that Chestov puts all the emphasis on one of the terms and destroys the equilibrium. Our appetite for understanding, our nostalgia for the absolute are explicable only in so far, precisely, as we can understand and explain many things. It is useless to negate the reason absolutely. It has its order in which it is efficacious. It is properly that of hu man experience. Whence we wanted to make everything clem. If we cannot do so, if the absurd is born on that occasion, it is born precisely at the very meeting-point of that efficacious but limited reason with the ever-resurgent irrational. Now, when Chestov rises up against a Hegelian proposition such as ‘the motion of the solar system takes place in conformity with immutable laws and those laws are its reason’ , when he devotes all his passion to upsetting Spinoza’s rationalism, he concludes, in effect, in favour of the vanity of all reason. Whence, by a natural and illegitimate reversal, to the pre-eminence of the irrational.[5] But the transition is not evident. For here may intervene the notion of limit and the notion of level. The laws of nature may be operative up to a certain limit, beyond which they turn against themselves to give birth to the absurd. Or else, they may justify themselves on the level of description without for that reason being true on the level of explanation. Everything is sacrificed here to the irrational, and, the demand for clarity being conjured away, the absurd disappears with one of the terms of its comparison. The absurd man on the other hand does not undertake such a levelling process. He recognizes the struggle, does not absolutely scorn reason and admits the irrational. Thus he again embraces in a single glance all the data of experience and he is little inclined to leap before knowing. He knows simply that in that alert awareness there is no further place for hope.

What is perceptible in Leo Chestov will be perhaps even more so in Kierkegaard. To be sure, it is hard to outline clear propositions in so elusive a writer. But, despite apparently opposed writings, beyond the pseudonyms, the tricks and the smiles, can be felt throughout that work as it were the presentiment （at the same time as the apprehension）of a truth which eventually bursts forth in the last works: Kierkegaard likewise takes the leap. His childhood having been so frightened by Christianity, he ultimately returns to its harshest aspect. For him, too, antinomy and paradox become criteria of the religious. Thus the very thing that led to despair of the meaning and depth of this life now gives it its truth and its clarity. Christianity is the scandal, and what Kierkegaard calls for quite plainly is the third sacrifice required by Ignatius Loyola, the one in which God most rejoices: ‘The sacrifice of the intellect.’[6] This effect of the ‘leap’ is odd but must not surprise us any longer. He makes of the absurd the criterion of the other world, whereas it is simply a residue of the experience of this world. ‘In his failure,’ says Kierkegaard, ‘the believer finds his triumph.’

It is not for me to wonder to what stirring preaching this attitude is linked. I merely have to wonder if the spectacle of the absurd and its own character justifies it. On this point, I know that it is not so. Upon considering again the content of the absurd, one understands better the method that inspired Kierkegaard. Between the irrational of the world and the insurgent nostalgia of the absurd, he does not maintain the equilibrium. He does not respect the rela tionship that constitutes properly speaking the feeling of absurdity. Sure of being unable to escape the irrational, he wants at least to save himself from that desperate nostalgia that seems to him sterile and devoid of implication. But if he may be fight on this point in his judgement, he could not be in his negation. If he substitutes for his cry of revolt a frantic adherence, at once he is led to blind himself to the absurd which hitherto enlightened him and to deify the only certainty he henceforth possesses, the irrational. The important thing, as Abbé Galiani said to Mme d’Epinay, is not to be cured, but to live with one’s ailments. Kierkegaard wants to be cured. To be cured is his frenzied wish and it runs throughout his whole journal. The entire effort of his intelligence is to escape the antinomy of the human condition. An all the more desperate effort since he inter mittently perceives its vanity when he speaks of himself, as if neither fear of God nor piety were capable of bringing him to peace. Thus it is that, through a strained subterfuge, he gives the irrational the appearance and God the attributes of the absurd: unjust, incoherent and incomprehensible. Intelligence alone in him strives to stifle the underlying demands of the human heart. Since nothing is proved, everything can be proved.

Indeed, Kierkegaard himself shows us the path taken. I do not want to suggest anything here, but how can one fail to read in his works the signs of an almost intentional mutilation of the soul to balance the mutilation accepted in regard to the absurd? It is the leitmotiv of the journal. ‘What I lacked was the animal which also belongs to human destiny... But give me a body then.’ And further on: ‘Oh! especially in my early youth what should I not have given to be a man, even for six months . . . what I lack, basically, is a body and the physical conditions of existence.’ Elsewhere, the same man nevertheless adopts the great cry of hope that has come down through so many centuries and quickened so many hearts, except that of the absurd man. ‘But for the Christian death is certainly not the end of everything and it implies infinitely more hope than life implies for us, even when that life is overflowing with health and vigour.’ Reconciliation through scandal is still reconciliation. It allows one, perhaps, as can be seen, to derive hope of its contrary which is death. But even if fellow feeling inclines one towards that attitude, still it must be said that excess justifies nothing. That transcends, as the saying goes, the human scale; therefore it must be super human. But this ‘therefore’ is superfluous. There is no logical certainty here. There is no experimental probability either. All I can say is that, in fact, that transcends my scale. If I do not draw a negation from it, at least I do not want to found anything on the incomprehensible. I want to know whether I can live with what I know and with that alone. I am told again that here the intelligence must sacrifice its pride and the reason bow down. But if I recognize the limits of the reason, I do not therefore negate it, recognizing its relative powers. I merely want to remain in this middle path where the intelligence can remain clear. If that is its pride, I see no sufficient reason for giving it up. Nothing more profound, for example, than Kierkegaard’s view according to which despair is not a fact but a State: the very state of sin. For sin is what alienates from God. The absurd, which is the metaphysical state of the conscious man, does not lead to God.[7] Perhaps this notion will become clearer if I risk this shocking statement: the absurd is sin without God.

It is a matter of living in that state of the absurd. I know on what it is founded, this mind and this world straining against each other without being able to embrace each other. I ask for the rule of life of that state and what I am offered neglects its basis, negates one of the terms of the painful opposition, demands of me a resignation. I ask what is involved in the condition I recognize as mine; I know it implies obscurity and ignorance; and I am assured that this ignorance explains everything and that this darkness is my light. But there is no reply here to my intent and this stirring lyricism cannot hide the paradox from me. One must therefore turn away. Kierkegaard may shout in warning: ‘If man had no eternal consciousness, if, at the bottom of everything, there were merely a wild, seething force producing everything, both large and trifling, in the storm of dark passions, if the bottomless void that nothing can fill underlay all things, what would life be but despair?’ This cry is not likely to stop the absurd man. Seeking what is true is not seeking what is desirable. If in order to elude the anxious question: ‘What would life be?’ one must, like the donkey, feed on the roses of illusion, then the absurd mind, rather than resigning itself to falsehood, prefers to adopt fearlessly Kierkegaard’s reply:‘despair’. Everything considered, a determined soul will always manage.

I am taking the liberty at this point of calling the existential attitude philosophical suicide. But this does not imply a judgement. It is a convenient way of indicating the movement by which a thought negates itself and tends to transcend itself in its very negation. For the existentials negation is their God. To be precise, that god is maintained only through the negation of human reason.[8] But like suicides, gods change with men. There are many ways of leaping, the essential being to leap. Those redeeming negations, those ultimate contradictions which negate the obstacle that has not yet been leapt over, may spring just as well （this is the paradox at which this reasoning aims）from a certain religious inspiration as from rational order. They always lay claim to the eternal and it is solely in this that they take the leap.

It must be repeated that the reasoning developed in this essay leaves out altogether the most widespread spiritual attitude of our enlightened age: the one, based on the principle that all is reason, which aims to explain the world. It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear. That is even legitimate but does not concern the reasoning we are following out here. In fact, our aim is to shed light upon the step taken by the mind when, starting from a philosophy of the world’s lack of meaning, it ends up by finding a meaning and depth in it. The most touching of those steps is religious in essence; it becomes obvious in the theme of the irrational. But the most paradoxical and most significant is certainly the one that attributes rational reasons to a world it originally imagined as devoid of any guiding principle. It is impossible in any case to reach the consequences that concern us without having given an idea of this new attainment of the spirit of nostalgia.

I shall examine merely the theme of ‘the Intention’ made fashionable by Husserl and the phenomenologists. I have already alluded to it. Originally Husserrs method negates the classic procedure of the reason. Let me repeat. Thinking is not unifying or making the appearance familiar under the guise of a great principle. Thinking is learning all over again how to see, directing one’s consciousness, making of every image a privileged place. In other words, phenomenology declines to explain the world, it wants to be merely a description of actual experience. It confirms absurd thought in its initial assertion that there is no truth, but merely truths. From the evening breeze to this hand on my shoul der, everything has its truth. Consciousness illuminates it by paying attention to it. Consciousness does not form the object of its understanding, it merely focuses, it is the act of attention and, to borrow a Bergsonian image, it resembles the projector that suddenly focuses on an image. The difference is that there is no scenario but a successive and incoherent illustration. In that magic lantern all the pictures are privileged. Consciousness suspends in experience the objects of its attention. Through its miracle it isolates them. Henceforth they are beyond all judgements. This is the ‘intention’ that characterizes consciousness. But the word does not imply any idea of finality; it is taken in its sense of ‘direction’: its only face value is topographical.

At first sigh, it certainly seems that in this way nothing contradicts the absurd spirit. That apparent modesty of thought that limits itself to describing what it declines to explain, that intentional discipline whence results paradoxically a profound enrichment of experience and the rebirth of the world in its prolixity are absurd procedures. At least at first sight. For methods of thought, in this case as elsewhere, always assume two aspects, one psychological and the other metaphysical.[9] Thereby they harbour two truths. If the theme of the intentional claims to illustrate merely a psychological attitude, by which reality is drained instead of being explained, nothing in fact separates it from the absurd spirit. It aims to enumerate what it cannot transcend. It affirms solely that without any unifying principle thought can still take delight in describing and understanding every aspect of experience. The truth involved then for each of those aspects is psychological in nature. It simply testifies to the ‘interest’ that reality can offer. It is a way of awaking a sleeping world and of making it vivid to the mind. But if one attempts to extend and give a rational basis to that notion of truth, if one claims to discover in this way the ‘essence’ of each object of knowledge, one restores its depth to experience. For an absurd mind that is incomprehensible. Now it is this wavering between modesty and assurance that is noticeable in the intentional attitude and this shimmering of phenomenological thought will illustrate the absurd reasoning better than anything else.

For Husserl speaks likewise of ‘extra-temporal essences’ brought to light by the intention, and he sounds like Plato. All things are not explained by one thing but by all things. I see no difference. To be sure those ideas or those essences that consciousness ‘effectuates’ at the end of every description are not yet to be considered perfect models. But it is asserted that they are directly present in each datum of perception. There is no longer a single idea explaining everything but an infinite number of essences giving a meaning to an infinite number of objects. The world comes to a stop, but also lights up. Platonic realism becomes intuitive but it is still realism. Kierkegaard was swallowed up in his God; Parmenides plunged thought into the One. But here thought hurls itself into an abstract polytheism. But this is not all: hallucinations and fictions likewise belong to ‘extra temporal essences’. In the new world of ideas, the species of centaur collaborates with the more modest species of metropolitan man.

For the absurd man, there was a truth as well as a bitterness in that purely psychological opinion that all aspects of the world are privileged. To say that everything is privileged is tantamount to saying that everything is equivalent. But the metaphysical aspect of that truth is so far-reaching, that through an elementary reaction, he feels closer perhaps to Plato. He is taught, in fact, that every image pre supposes an equally privileged essence. In this ideal world without hierarchy, the formal army is composed solely of generals. To be sure, transcendency had been eliminated. But a sudden shift in thought brings back into the world a sort of fragmentary immanence which restores to the universe its depth.

Am I to fear having carded too far a theme handled with greater circumspection by its creators? I read merely these assertions of Husserl, apparently paradoxical yet rigorously logical if what precedes is accepted: ‘That which is true is true absolutely, in itself; truth is one, identical to itself, however different the creatures who perceive it, men, monstem, angels or gods.’ Reason triumphs and trumpets forth with that voice, I cannot deny. What can its assertions mean in the absurd world? The perception of an angel or a god has no meaning for me. That geometrical spot where divine reason ratifies mine will always be incomprehensible to me. There, too, I discern a leap and, though performed in the abstract, it nonetheless means for me forgetting just what I do not want to forget. When further on Husserl ex claims: ‘If all masses subject to attraction were to disappear, the law of attraction would not be destroyed but would simply remain without any possible application’ , I know that I am faced with a metaphysic of consolation. And if I want to discover the point where thought leaves the path of evidence, I have only to reread the parallel reasoning that Husserl voices regarding the mind: ‘If we could contem plate clearly the exact laws of psychic processes, they would be seen to be likewise eternal and invariable, like the basic laws of theoretical natural science. Hence they would be valid even if there were no psychic process.’ Even if the mind were not, its laws would be! I see then that of a psychological truth Husserl aims to make a rational rule: after having denied the integrating power of human reason, he leaps by this expedient to eternal Reason.

Husserl’s theme of the ‘concrete universe’ cannot then surprise me. If I am told that all essences are not formal, but that some are material, that the first are the object of logic and the second of science, this is merely a question of definition. The abstract, I am told, indicates but a part, without consistency in itself, of a concrete universal. But the wavering already noted allows me to throw light on the confusion of these terms. For that may mean that the concrete object of my attention, this sky, the reflection of that water on this coat alone preserve the prestige of the real that my interest isolates in the world. And I shall not deny it. But that may mean also that this coat itself is uni versal, has its particular and sufficient essence, belongs to the world of forms. I then realize that merely the order of the procession has been changed. This world has ceased to have its reflection in a higher universe, but the heaven of forms is figured in the host of images of this earth. This changes nothing for me. Rather than encountering here a taste for the concrete, the meaning of the human condition, I find an intellectualism sufficiently unbridled to generalize the concrete itself.

It is futile to be amazed by the apparent paradox that leads thought to its own negation by the opposite paths of humiliated reason and triumphal reason. From the abstract god of Husserl to the dazzling god of Kierkegaard the distance is not so great. Reason and the irrational lead to the same preaching. In truth the way matters but little; the will to arrive suffices. The abstract philosopher and the religious philosopher start out from the same disorder and support each other in the same anxiety. But the essential is to ex plain. Nostalgia is stronger here than knowledge. It is significant that the thought of the epoch is at once one of the most deeply imbued with a philosophy of the non significance of the world and one of the most divided in its conclusions. It is constantly oscillating between extreme rationalization of reality which tends to break up that thought into standard reasons and its extreme irrationalization which tends to deify it. But this divorce is only apparent. It is a matter of reconciliation, and, in both cases, the leap suffices. It is always wrongly thought that the notion of reason is a one-way notion. To tell the truth, however rigorous it may be in its ambition, this concept is nonetheless just as unstable as others. Reason bears a quite human aspect, but it also is able to turn towards the divine. Since Plotinus, who was the first to reconcile it with the eternal climate, it has learned to turn away from the most cherished of its principles, which is contradiction, in order to integrate into it the strangest, the quite magic one of participation.[10] It is an instrument of thought and not thought itself. Above all, a man’s thought is his nostalgia.

Just as reason was able to soothe the melancholy of Plotinus, it provides modem anguish the means of calming itself in the familiar setting of the eternal. The absurd mind has less luck. For it the world is neither so rational nor so irrational. It is unreasonable and only that. With Husserl the reason eventually has no limits at all. The absurd on the contrary establishes its limits since it is powerless to calm its anguish. Kierkegaard independently asserts that a single limit is enough to negate that anguish. But the absurd does not go so far. For it that limit is directed solely at the reason’s ambitions. The theme of the irrational, as it is conceived by the existentialists, is reason becoming confused and escaping by negating itself. The absurd is lucid reason noting its limits.

Only at the end of this difficult path does the absurd man recognize his true motives. Upon comparing his inner exi gence and what is then offered him, he suddenly feels he is going to turn away. In the universe of Husserl the world becomes clear and that longing for familiarity that man’s heart harbours becomes useless. In Kierkegaard’s apocalypse that desire for clarity must be given up if it wants to be satisfied. Sin is not so much knowing （if it were, everybody would be innocent）as wanting to know. Indeed, it is the only sin of which the absurd man can feel that it constitutes both his guilt and his innocence. He is offered a solution in which all the past contradictions have become merely polemical games. But this is not the way he experienced them. Their truth must be preserved, which consists in not being satisfied. He does not want preaching.

My reasoning wants to be faithful to the evidence that aroused it. That evidence is the absurd. It is that divorce between the mind that desires and the world that disappoints, my nostalgia for unity, this fragmented universe and the contradiction that binds them together. Kierkegaard suppresses my nostalgia and Husserl gathers together that universe. That is not what I was expecting. It was a matter of living and thinking with those dislocations, of knowing whether one had to accept or refuse. There can be no question of masking the evidence, of suppressing the absurd by denying one of the terms of its equation. It is essential to know whether one can live with it or whether, on the other hand, logic commands one to die of it. I am not interested in philosophical suicide but rather in plain suicide. I merely wish to purge it of its emotional content and know its logic and its integrity. Any other position implies for the absurd mind deceit and the mind’s retreat before what the mind itself has brought to light. Husserl claims to obey the desire to escape ‘the inveterate habit of living and thinking in certain well-known and convenient conditions of existence’ , but the final leap restores in him the eternal and its comfort. The leap does not represent an extreme danger as Kierkegaard would like it to do. The danger, on the contrary, lies in the subtle instant that precedes the leap. Being able to remain on that dizzying crest — that is integrity and the rest is subterfuge. I know also that never has helplessness inspired such striking harmonies as those of Kierkegaard. But if helplessness has its place in the indifferent landscapes of history, it has none in a reasoning whose exigence is now known.

Absurd Freedom

Now the main thing is done, I hold certain facts from which I cannot separate. What I know, what is certain, what I cannot deny, what I cannot reject- this is what counts. I can negate everything of that part of me that lives on vague nostalgias, except this desire for unity, this longing to solve, this need for clarity and cohesion. I can refute everything in this world surrounding me that offends or enraptures me, except this chaos, this sovereign chance and this divine equivalence which springs from anarchy. I don’t know whether this world has a meaning that transcends it. But I know that I do not know that meaning and that it is impossible for me just now to know it. What can a meaning outside my condition mean to me? I can understand only in human terms. What I touch, what resists me — that is what I understand. And these two certainties — my appetite for the absolute and for unity and the impossibility of reducing this world to a rational and reasonable principle — I also know that I cannot reconcile them. What other truth can I admit without lying, without bringing in a hope I lack, which means nothing within the limits of my condition?

If I were a tree among trees, a cat among animals, this life would have a meaning or rather this problem would not arise, for I should belong to this world. I should be this world to which I am now opposed by my whole consciousness and my whole insistence upon familiarity. This ridiculous reason is what sets me in opposition to all creation. I cannot cross it out with a stroke of the pen. What I believe to be true I must therefore preserve. What seems to me so obvious, even against me, I must support. And what constitutes the basis of that conflict, of that break between the world and my mind, but the awareness of it? If, therefore, I want to preserve it, I can, through a constant awareness, ever revived, ever alert. This is what, for the moment, I must remember. At this moment the absurd, so obvious and yet so hard to win, returns to a man’s life and finds its home there. At this moment, too, the mind can leave the arid, dried-up path of lucid effort. That path now emerges in daily life. It encounters the world of the anonymous impersonal pronoun ‘one’ , but henceforth man enters in with his revolt and his lucidity. He has forgotten how to cope. This hell of the present is his Kingdom at last. All problems recover their sharp edge. Abstract evidence retreats before the poetry of forms and colours. Spiritual conflicts become embodied and return to the abject and magnificent shelter of man’s heart. None of them is settled. But all are trans figured. Is one going to die, escape by the leap, rebuild a mansion of ideas and forms to one’s own scale? Is one on the contrary going to take up the heartrending and marvellous wager of the absurd? Let’s make a final effort in this regard and draw all our conclusions. The body, affection, creation, action, human nobility will then resume their places in this mad world. At last man will again find there the wine of the absurd and the bread of indifference on which he feeds his greatness.

Let us insist again on the method: it is a matter of persisting. At a certain point on his path the absurd man is tempted. History is not lacking in either religions or prophets, even without gods. He is asked to leap. All he can reply is that he doesn’t fully understand, that it is not obvious. Indeed, he does not want to do anything but what he fully understands. He is assured that this is the sin of pride, but he does not understand the notion of sin; that perhaps hell is in store, but he has not enough imagination to visualize that strange future; that he is losing immortal life, but that seems to him an idle consideration. An attempt is made to get him to admit his guilt. He feels innocent. To tell the truth, that is all he feels — his irreparable innocence. This is what allows him everything. Hence what he demands of himself is to live solely with what he knows, to accommodate himself to what is and to bring in nothing that is not certain. He is told that nothing is. But this at least is a certainty. And it is with this that he is concerned: he wants to find out if it is possible to live without appeal.

Now I can broach the notion of suicide. It has already been felt what solution might be given. At this point the problem is reversed. It was previously a question of finding out whether or not life had to have a meaning to be lived. It now becomes clear on the contrary that it will be lived all the better if it has no meaning. Living an experience, a particular fate, is accepting it fully. Now, no one will live this fate, knowing it to be absurd, unless he does everything to keep before him that absurd brought to light by consciousness. Negating one of the terms of the oppo-sition on which he lives amounts to escaping it. To abolish conscious revolt is to elude the problem. The theme of permanent revolution is thus carded into individual experience. Living is keeping the absurd alive. Keeping it alive is above all contemplating it. Unlike Eurydice, the absurd dies only when we turn away from it. One of the only coherent philosophical positions is thus revolt. It is a constant confrontation between man and his own obscurity. It is an insistence upon an impossible transparency. It challenges the world anew every second. Just as danger provided man with the unique opportunity of seizing awareness, so metaphysical revolt extends awareness to the whole of experience. It is that constant presence of man in his own eyes. It is not aspiration, for it is devoid of hope. That revolt is the certainty of a crushing fate, without the resignation that ought to accompany it.

This is where it is seen to what a degree absurd experience is remote from suicide. It may be thought that suicide follows revolt — but wrongly. For it does not represent the logical outcome of revolt. It is just the contrary by the consent it presupposes. Suicide, like the leap, is acceptance at its extreme. Everything is over and man returns to his essential history. His future, his unique and dreadful future — he sees and rushes towards it. In its way, suicide settles the absurd. It engulfs the absurd in the same death. But I know that in order to keep alive, the absurd cannot be settled. It escapes suicide to the extent that it is simultaneously awareness and rejection of death. It is, at the extreme limit of the condemned man’s last thought, that shoelace that despite everything he sees a few yards away, on the very brink of his dizzying fall. The contrary of suicide, in fact, is the man condemned to death.

That revolt gives life its value. Spread out over the whole length of a life, it restores its majesty to that life. To a man devoid of blinkers, there is no finer sight than that of the intelligence at grips with a reality that transcends it. The sight of human pride is unequalled. No disparagement is of any use. That discipline that the mind imposes on itself, that will conjured up out of nothing, that face-to-face struggle have something exceptional about them. To impoverish that reality whose inhumanity constitutes man’s majesty is tantamount to impoverishing him himself. I understand then why the doctrines that explain everything to me also debilitate me at the same time. They relieve me of the weight of my own life and yet I must carry it alone. At this juncture, I cannot conceive that a sceptical meta physics can be joined to an ethics of renunciation.

Consciousness and revolt, these rejec-tions are the contrary of renunciation. Everything that is indomitable and passionate in a human heart quickens them, on the contrary, with its own life. It is essential to die unreconciled and not of one’s own free will. Suicide is a repudiation. The absurd man can only drain everything to the bitter end, and deplete himself. The absurd is his extreme tension which he maintains constantly by solitary effort, for he knows that in that consciousness and in that day-to-day revolt he gives proof of his only truth which is defiance. This is a first consequence.

If I remain in that prearranged position which consists in drawing all the conclusions （and nothing else）involved in a newly discovered notion, I am faced with a second paradox. In order to remain faithful to that method, I have nothing to do with the problem of metaphysical liberty. Knowing whether or not man is free doesn’t interest me. I can experience only my own freedom. As to it, I can have no general notions, but merely a few clear insights. The problem of ‘freedom as such’ has no meaning. For it is linked in quite a different way with the problem of God. Knowing whether or not man is free involves knowing whether he can have a master. The absurdity peculiar to this problem comes from the fact that the very notion that makes the problem of freedom possible also takes away all its meaning. For in the presence of God there is less a problem of freedom than a problem of evil. You know the alternative: either we are not free and God the all-powerful is responsible for evil. Or we are free and responsible but God is not all powerful. All the scholastic subtleties have neither added anything to nor subtracted anything from the acuteness of this paradox.

This is why I cannot get lost in the glorification or the mere definition of a notion which eludes me and loses its meaning as soon as it goes beyond the frame of reference of my individual experience. I cannot understand what kind of freedom would be given me by a higher being. I have lost the sense of hierarchy. The only conception of freedom I can have is that of the prisoner or the individual in the midst of the State. The only one I know is freedom of thought and action. Now if the absurd cancels all my chances of eternal freedom, it restores and magnifies on the other hand my freedom of action. That privation of hope and future means an increase in man’s availability.

Before encountering the absurd, the everyday man lives with aims, a concern for the future or for justification （with regard to whom or what is not the question）. He weighs his chances, he counts on ‘someday’ , his retirement or the labour of his sons. He still thinks that something in his life can be directed. In truth, he acts as if he were free, even if all the facts make a point of contradicting that liberty. But after the absurd, everything is upset. That idea that ‘I am’ , my way of acting as if everything has a meaning （even if, on occasion, I said that nothing has）— all that is given the lie in vertiginous fashion by the absurdity of a possible death. Thinking of the future, establishing aims for oneself, having preferences — all this presupposes a belief in freedom, even if one occasionally ascertains that one doesn’t feel it. But at that moment I am well aware that that higher liberty, that freedom to be, which alone can serve as basis for a truth, does not exist. Death is there as the only reality. After death the chips are down. I am not even free either to perpetuate myself, but a slave, and above all a slave with rut hope of an eternal revolution, without recourse, to contempt. And who without revolution and without contempt can remain a slave? What freedom can exist in the fullest sense without assurance of eternity?

But at the same time the absurd man realizes that hitherto he was bound to that postulate of freedom on the illusion of which he was living. In a certain sense, that hampered him. To the extent to which he imagined a purpose to his life, he adapted himself to the demands of a purpose to be achieved and became the slave of his liberty. Thus I could not act otherwise than as the father （or the engineer or the leader of a nation, or the post-office sub-clerk）that I am preparing to be. I think I can choose to be that rather than something else. I think so unconsciously, to be sure. But at the same time, I strengthen my postulate with the beliefs of those around me, with the presumptions of my human environment （others are so sure of being free and that cheerful mood is so contagious!）. However far one may remain from any presumption, moral or social, one is partly influenced by them and even, for the best among them （there are good and bad presumptions）, one adapts one’s life to them. Thus the absurd man realizes that he was not really free. To speak dearly, to the extent to which I hope, to which I worry about a truth that might be individual to me, about a way of being or creating, to the extent to which I arrange my life and prove thereby that I accept its having a meaning, I create for myself barriers between which I confine my life. I do as do so many bureaucrats of the mind and heart who only fill me with disgust and whose only vice, I now see clearly, is to take man’s freedom seriously.

The absurd enlightens me on this point: there is no future. Henceforth this is the reason for my inner freedom. I shall use two comparisons here. Mystics, to begin with, find freedom in giving themselves. By losing themselves in their god, by accepting his rules, they become secretly free. In spontaneously accepted slavery they recover a deeper independence. But what does that freedom mean? It may be said above all that they feel free with regard to themselves and not so much free as liberated. Likewise, cornpletely turned towards death （taken here as the most obvious absurdity）, the absurd man feels released from everything outside that passionate attention crystallizing in him. He enjoys a freedom with regard to common rules. It can be seen at this point that the initial themes of existential philosophy keep their entire value. The return to consciousness, the escape from everyday sleep represent the first steps of absurd freedom. But it is existential preaching that is alluded to and with it that spiritual leap which basically escapes consciousness. In the same way （this is my second comparison）the slaves of antiquity did not belong to themselves. But they knew that freedom which consists in not feeling responsible.[11] Death, too, has patrician hands which, while crushing, also liberate.

Losing oneself in that bottomless certainty, feeling henceforth sufficiently remote from one’s own life to increase it and take a broad view of it — this involves the principle of a liberation. Such new independence has a definite time limit, like any freedom of action. It does not write a cheque on eterniry. But it takes the place of the illusions of freedom, which all stopped with death. The divine availability of the condemned man before whom the prison doors open in a certain early dawn, that unbelievable disinterestedness with regard to everything except for the pure flame of life — it is clear that death and the absurd are here the principles of the only reasonable freedom: that which a human heart can experience and live. This is a second consequence. The absurd man thus catches sight of a burning and frigid, transparent and limited universe in which nothing is possible but everything is given, and beyond which all is collapse and nothingness. He can then decide to accept such a universe and draw from it his strength, his refusal to hope, and the unyielding evidence of a life without consolation.

But what does life mean in such a universe? Nothing else for the moment but indifference to the future and a de sire to use up everything that is given. Belief in the meaning of life always implies a scale of values, a choice, our preferences. Belief in the absurd, according to our definitions, teaches the contrary. But this is worth examining.

Knowing whether or not one can live without appeal is all that interests me. I do not want to get out of my depth. This aspect of life being given me, can I adapt myself to it? Now, faced with this particular concern, belief in the absurd is tantamount to substituting the quantity of experiences for the quality. If I convince myself that this life has no other aspect than that of the absurd, if I feel that its whole equilibrium depends on that perpetual opposition between my conscious revolt and the darkness in which it struggles, if I admit that my freedom has no meaning except in relation to its limited fate, then I must say that what counts is not the best living but the most living. It is not up to me to wonder if this is vulgar or revolting, elegant or deplorable. Once and for all, value judgements are discarded here in favour of factual judgements. I have merely to draw the conclusions from what I can see and to risk nothing that is hypothetical. Supposing that living in this way were not honourable, then true propriety would command me to be dishonourable.

The most living; in the broadest sense, that rule means nothing. It calls for definition. It seems to begin with the fact that the notion of quantity has not been sufficiently explored. For it can account for a large share of human experience. A man’s rule of conduct and his scale of values have no meaning except through the quantity and variety of experiences he has been in a position to accumulate. Now the conditions of modern life impose on the majority of men the same quantity of experiences and consequently the same profound experience. To be sure, there must also be taken into consideration the individual’s spontaneous contribution, the ‘given’ element in him. But I cannot judge of that, and let me repeat that my rule here is to get along with the immediate evidence. I see then that the individual character of a common code of ethics lies not so much in the ideal importance of its basic principles as in the norm of an experience that it is possible to measure. To stretch a point somewhat, the Greeks had the code of their leisure just as we have the code of our eight-hour day. But already many men among the most tragic cause us to foresee that a longer experience changes this table of values. They make us imagine that adventurer of the everyday who through mere quantity of experiences would break all records （I am purposely using this sports expression）and would thus win his own code of ethics.[12] Yet let us avoid romanticism and just ask ourselves just what such an attitude may mean to a man with his mind made up to take up his bet and to observe strictly what he takes to be the rules of the game.

Breaking all the records is first and foremost being faced with the world as often as possible. How can that be done without contradictions and without playing on words? For on the one hand the absurd teaches that all experiences are unimportant and, on the other, it urges towards the greatest quantity of experiences. How then can one fail to do as did so many of those men I was speaking of earlier — choose the form of life that brings us the most possible of that human matter, thereby introducing a scale of values that on the other hand one claims to reject?

But again it is the absurd and its contradictory life that teaches us. For the mistake is thinking that that quantity of experiences depends on the circumstances of our life when it depends solely on us. Here we have to be over simple. To two men living the same number of years, the world always provides the same sum of experiences. It is up to us to be conscious of them; Being aware of one’s life, one’s revolt, one’s freedom, and to the maximum, is living, and to the maximum. Where lucidity dominates, the scale of values becomes useless. Let’s be even more simple. Let us say that the sole obstacle, the sole deficiency to be made good, is constituted by premature death. Thus it is that no depth, no emotion, no passion and no sacrifice could render equal in the eyes of the absurd man （even if he wished it so）a conscious life of forty years and a lucidity spread over sixty years.[13] Madness and death are his irreparables. Man does not choose. The absurd and the extra life it involves therefore do not depend on man’s will but on its contrary which is death.[14] Weighing words carefully, it is altogether a question of luck. One just has to be able to consent to this. There will never be any substitute for twenty years of life and experience.

But with an inconsistency odd in such an alert race, the Greeks claimed that those who died young were beloved of the gods. And that is true only if you are willing to believe that entering the ridiculous world of the gods is forever losing the purest of joys which is feeling, and feeling on this earth. The present and the succession of presents before a constantly conscious soul is the ideal of the absurd man. But the word ideal tings false in this connection. It is not even his vocation but merely the third consequence of his reasoning. Having started from an anguished awareness of the inhuman, the meditation on the absurd returns at the end of its itinerary to the very heart of the passionate fl ames of human revolt.[15]

Thus I draw from the absurd three consequences which are my revolt, my freedom and my passion. By the mere activity of consciousness I transform into a rule of life what was an invitation to death — and I refuse suicide. I know, to be sure, the dull resonance that vibrates throughout these days. Yet I have but a word to say: that it is necessary. When Nietzsche writes: ‘It clearly seems that the chief thing in heaven and on earth is to obey at length and in a single direction: in the long run there results something for which it is worth the trouble of living on this earth as, for example, virtue, art, music, the dance, reason, the mind — something that transfigures, something delicate, mad, or divine,’ he elucidates the rule of a really distinguished code of ethics. But he also points the way of the absurd man. Obeying the flame is both the easiest and the hardest thing to do. However, it is good for man to judge himself occasionally. He is alone in being, able to do so.

‘Prayer,’ says Alain, ‘is when night descends over thought.’ ‘But the mind must meet the night,’ reply the mystics and the existentials. Yes indeed, but not that night that is born under closed eyelids and through the mere will of man — dark, impenetrable night that the mind calls up in order to plunge into it. If it must encounter a night, let it be rather that of despair which remains lucid — polar night, vigil of the mind — whence will arise perhaps that white and virginal brightness which outlines every object in the light of the intelligence. At that degree, equivalence encounters passionate understanding. Then it is no longer even a question of judging the existential leap. It resumes its place amidst the age-old fresco of human attitudes. For the spectator, if he is conscious, that leap is still absurd. In so far as it thinks it solves the paradox, it reinstates it intact. On this score, it is stirring. On this score, everything resumes its place and the absurd world is reborn in all its splendour and diversity.

But it is bad to stop, hard to be satisfied with a single way of seeing, to go without contradiction, perhaps the most subtle of all spiritual forces. The preceding merely de fines a way of thinking. But the point is to live.

[1]From the point of view of the relative value of truth. On the other hand, from the point of view of virile behaviour, this scholar’s fragility may well make us smile.

[2]Let us not miss this opportunity to point out the relative character of this essay. Suicide may, indeed, be related to much more honourable considerations — for example, the political suicides of protest, as they were called, during the Chinese revolution.

[3]I have heard of an emulator of Peregrinos, a post-war writer who, after having finished his first book, committed suicide to attract attention to his work. Attention was in fact attracted, but the book was judged no good.

[4]But not in the proper sense. This is not a definition, but rather an enumeration of the feelings that may admit of the absurd. Still, the enumeration finished, the absurd has nevertheless not been exhausted.

[5]Apropos of the notion of exception particularly and against Aristotle.

[6]It may be thought that I am neglecting here the essential problem, that of faith. But I am not examining the philosophy of Kierkegaard, or of Chestov, or, later on, of Husserl （this would call for a different place and a different attitude of mind）; I am simply borrowing a theme from them and examining whether its consequences can fit the already established rules. It is merely a matter of persistence.

[7]I did not say ‘excludes God’ , which would still amount to asserting.

[8]Let me assert again: it is not the affirmation of God that is questioned here, but rather the logic leading to the affirmation.

[9]Even the most rigorous epistemologies imply metaphysics. And to such a degree that the metaphysic of many contemporary thinkers consists in having nothing but an epistemology.

[10]A. — At that time reason had to adapt itself or die. It adapts itself. With Plotinus, aft er being logical it becomes aesthetic. Metaphor takes the place of the syllogism.

B. — Moreover, this is not Plotinus’ only contribution to phenomenology. This whole attitude is already contained in the concept so dear to the Alexandrian thinker that there is not only an idea of man but also an idea of Socrates.

[11]I am concerned here with a factual comparison, not with an apology of humility. The absurd man is the contrary of the reconciled man.

[12]Quantity sometimes constitutes quality. If I can believe the latest restatements of scientific theory, all matter is constituted by centres of energy. Their greater or lesser quantity makes its specificity more or less remarkable. A billion ions and one ion differ not only in quantity but also in quality. It is easy to find an analogy in human experience.

[13]Same reflection on a notion as different as the idea of eternal nothingness. It neither adds anything to nor subtracts anything from reality. In psychological experience of nothingness, it is by the consideration of what will happen in 2,000 years that our own nothingness truly takes on meaning. In one of its aspects, eternal nothingness is made up precisely of the sum of lives to come which will not be ours.

[14]The will is only the agent here: it tends to maintain consciousness. It provides a discipline of life and that is appreciable.

[15]What matters is coherence. We start out here from acceptance of the world. But Oriental thought teaches that one can indulge in the same effort of logic by choosing against the world. That is just as legitimate and gives this essay its perspectives and its limits. But when the negation of the world is pursued just as rigorously one often achieves （in certain Vedantic schools）similar results regarding, for instance, the indifference of works. In a book of great importance, Le Choix, Jean Grenier establishes in this way a veritable ‘philosophy of indifference’.

The Absurd Man

‘If Stavrogin believes, he does not think he believes.

If he does not believe, he does not think he does not believe.’

—THE POSSESSED

‘My field,’ said Goethe, ‘is time.’ That is indeed the absurd speech. What, in fact, is the absurd man? He who, without negating it, does nothing for the eternal. Not that nostalgia is foreign to him. But he prefers his courage and his reasoning. The first teaches him to live without appeal and to get along with what he has; the second informs him of his limits. Assured of his temporally limited freedom, of his revolt devoid of future and of his mortal consciousness, he lives out his adventure within the span of his lifetime. That is his field, that is his action, which he shields from any judgement but his own. A greater life cannot mean for him another life. That would be unfair. I am not even speaking here of that paltry eternity that is called posterity. Madame Roland relied on herself. That rashness was taught a lesson. Posterity is glad to quote her remark but forgets to judge it. Madame Roland is indifferent to posterity.

There can be no question of holding forth on ethics. I have seen people behave badly with great morality and I note every day that integrity has no need of rules. There is but one moral code that the absurd man can accept, the one that is not separated from God: the one that is dictated. But it so happens that he lives outside that God. As for the others （I mean also immoralism）, the absurd man sees nothing in them but justifications and he has nothing to justify. I start out here from the principle of his innocence.

That innocence is to be feared. ‘Everything is permitted,’ exclaims Ivan Karamazov. That, too, smacks of the absurd. But on condition that it be not taken in the vulgar sense. I don’t know whether or not it has been sufficiently pointed out that it is not an outburst of relief or of joy but rather a bitter acknowledgement of a fact. The certainty of a God giving a meaning to life far surpasses in attractiveness the ability to behave badly with impunity. The choice would not be hard to make. But there is no choice and that is where the bitterness comes in. The absurd does not liberate; it binds. It does not authorize all actions. Everything is per mitted does not mean that nothing is forbidden. The absurd merely confers an equivalence on the consequences of those actions. It does not recommend crime, for this would be childish, but it restores to remorse its futility. Likewise, if all experiences are indifferent, that of duty is as legitimate as any other. One can be virtuous through a whim.

All systems of morality are based on the idea that an action has consequences that legitimize or cancel it. A mind imbued with the absurd merely judges that those consequences must be considered calmly. It is ready to pay up. In other words, there may be responsible persons but there are no guilty ones, in its opinion. At very most such a mind will consent to use past experience as a basis for its future actions. Time will prolong time and life will serve life. In this field that is both limited and bulging with possibilities, everything in himself, except his lucidity, seems unforesee able to him. What rule, then, could emanate from that un reasonable order? The only truth that might seem instructive to him is not formal: it comes to life and unfolds in men. The absurd mind cannot so much expect ethical rules at the end of its reasoning as rather, illustrations and the breath of human lives. The few following images are of this type. They prolong the absurd reasoning by giving it a specific attitude and their warmth.

Do I need to develop the idea that an example is not necessarily an example to be followed （even less so if possible in the absurd world）and that these illustrations are not, therefore, models? Besides the fact that a certain vocation is required for this, one becomes ridiculous, with all due allowance, when drawing from Rousseau the conclusion that one must walk on all fours and from Nietzsche that one must maltreat one’s mother. ‘It is essential to be absurd,’ writes a modern author, ‘it is not essential to be a dupe.’ The attitudes of which I shall treat can assume their whole meaning only through consideration of their contraries. A sub-clerk in the post-office is the equal of a conqueror if consciousness is common to them. All experiences are indifferent in this regard. There are some that do either a service or a disservice to man. They do him a service if he is conscious. Otherwise, that has no importance: a man’s failures imply judge-ment, not of circumstances, but of himself.

I am choosing solely men who aim only to expend themselves or whom I see to be expending themselves. That has no further implications. For the moment I want to speak only of a world in which thoughts like lives are devoid of future. Everything that makes man work and get excited utilizes hope. The sole thought that is not mendacious is therefore a sterile thought. In the absurd world the value of a notion or of a life is measured by its sterility.

Don Juanism

If it were sufficient to love, things would be too easy. The more one loves the stronger the absurd grows. It is not through lack of love that Don Juan goes from woman to woman. It is ridiculous to represent him as a mystic in quest of total love. But it is indeed because he loves them with the same passion and each time with his whole self that he must repeat his gift and his profound quest. Whence each woman hopes to give him what no one has ever given him. Each time they are utterly wrong and merely manage to make him feel the need of that repetition. ‘At last,’ ex claims one of them, ‘I have given you love.’ Can we be surprised that Don Juan laughs at this? ‘At last? No,’ he says, ‘but once more.’ Why should it be essential to love rarely in order to love much?

Is Don Juan melancholy? This is not likely. I shall barely have recourse to the legend. That laugh, the conquering in solence, that playfulness and love of the theatre are all clear and joyous. Every healthy creature tends to multiply himself. So it is with Don Juan. But furthermore melancholy people have two reasons for being so: they don’t know or they hope. Don Juan knows and does not hope. He reminds one of those artists who know their limits, never go beyond them, and in that precarious interval in which they take their spiritual stand enjoy all the wonderful ease of masters. And that is, indeed: genius: the intelligence that knows its frontiers. Up to the frontier of physical death Don Juan is ignorant of melancholy. The moment he knows, his laugh bursts forth and makes one forgive everything. He was melancholy at the time when he hoped. Today, on the mouth of that woman he recognizes the bitter and comforting taste of the only knowledge. Bitter ? Barely: that nece sary imperfection that makes happiness perceptible!

It is quite false to try to see in Don Juan a man brought up on Ecclesiastes. For nothing is vanity to him except the hope of another life. He proves this because he gambles that other life against heaven itself. Longing for desire killed by satisfaction, that commonplace of the impotent man, does not belong to him. That is all fight for Faust who b lieved in God enough to sell himself to the devil. For Don Juan the thing is simpler. Molina’s ‘Burlador’ ever replies to the threats of hell: ‘What a long respite you give me!’ What comes after death is futile and what a long succession of days for whoever knows how to be alive! Faust craved worldly goods; the poor man had only to stretch out his hand. It already-amounted to selling his soul when he was unable to gladden it. As for satiety, Don Juan insists upon it, on the contrary. If he leaves a woman it is not absolutely because he has ceased to desire her. A beautiful woman is always desirable. But he desires another, and no, this is not the same thing.

This life gratifies his every wish and nothing is worse than losing it. This madman is a great wise man. But men who live on hope do not thrive in this universe where kindness yields to generosity, affection to virile silence, and communion to solitary courage. And all hasten to say: ‘He was a weakling, an idealist or a saint.’ One has to disparage the greamess that insults.

People are sufficiently annoyed （or smile that smile of complicity that debases what it admires）by Don Juan’s speeches and by that same remark that he uses on all women. But to anyone who seeks quantity in his joys, the only thing that matters is efficacy. What is the use of complicating the passwords that have stood the test? No one, neither the woman nor the man, listens to them, but rather to the voice that pronounces them. They are the rule, the convention, and the courtesy. After they are spoken the most important still remains to be done. Don Juan is already getting ready for it. Why should he give himself a problem in morality? He is not like Milosz’s Manara who damns himself through a desire to be a saint. Hell for him is a thing to be provoked. He has but one reply to divine wrath and that is human honour: ‘I have honour,’ he says to the Commander, ‘and I am keeping my promise because I am a knight.’ But it would be just as great an error to make an immoralist of him. In this regard, he is ‘like everyone else’: he has the moral code of his likes and dislikes. Don Juan can be properly understood only by constant reference to what he commonly symbolizes: the ordinary seducer and the sexual athlete. He is an ordinary seducer.[1] Except for the difference that he is conscious, and that is why he is absurd. A seducer who has become lucid will not change for all that. Seducing is his condition in life. Only in novels does one change condition or become better. Yet it can be said that at the same time nothing is changed and everything is transformed. What Don Juan realizes in action is an ethic of quantity, whereas the saint on the contrary tends towards quality. Not to believe in the profound meaning of things belongs to the absurd man. As for those cordial or wonderstruck faces, he eyes them, stores them up, and does not pause over them. Time keeps up with them. The absurd man is he who is not apart from time. Don Juan does not think of ‘collecting’ women. He exhausts their number and with them his chances of life. ‘Collecting’ amounts to being capable of living off one’s past. But he rejects regret, that other form of hope. He is incapable of looking at portraits.

Is he selfish for all that? In his way probably. But here, too, it is essential to understand one another. There are those who are made for living and those who are made for loving. At least Don Juan would be inclined to say so. But he would do so in a very few words such as he is capable of choosing. For the love we are speaking of here is clothed in illusions of the eternal. As all the specialists in passion teach us, there is no eternal love but what is thwarted. There is scarcely any passion without struggle. Such a love culminates only in the ultimate contradiction of death. One must be Werther or nothing. Then, too, there are several ways of committing suicide, one of which is the total gift and forgetfulness of self. Don Juan, as well as anyone else, knows that this can be stirring. But he is one of the very few who know that this is not the important thing. He knows just as well that those who turn away from all personal life through a great love enrich themselves perhaps but certainly impoverish those their love has chosen. A mother or passionate wife necessarily has a closed heart, for it is turned away from the world. A single emotion, a single creature, a single face, but all is devoured. Quite a different love disturbs Don Juan, and this one is liberating. It brings with it all the faces in the world and its tremor comes from the fact that it knows itself to be mortal. Don Juan has chosen to be nothing.

For him it is a matter of seeing clearly. We call love what binds us to certain creatures only by reference to a collective way of seeing for which books and legends are responsible. But of love I know only that mixture of desire, affection and intelligence that binds me to this or that creature. That compound is not the same for another per son. I do not have the right to cover all these experiences with the same name. This exempts one from conducting them with the same gestures. The absurd man multiplies here again what he cannot unify. Thus he discovers a new way of being which liberates him at least as much as it liberates those who approach him. There is no noble love but that which recognizes itself to be both short-lived and exceptional. All those deaths and all those rebirths gathered together as in a sheaf, make up for Don Juan the flowering of his life. It is his way of giving and of vivifying. I let it be decided whether or not one can speak of selfishness.

I think at this point of all those who absolutely insist that Don Juan be punished. Not only in another life, but even in this one. I think of all those tales, legends, and laughs about the aged Don Juan. But Don Juan is already ready. To a conscious man old age and what it portends are not a surprise. Indeed, he is conscious only in so far as he does not conceal its horror from himself. There was in Athens a temple dedicated to old age. Children were taken there. As for Don Juan, the more people laugh at him the more his figure stands out. Thereby he rejects the one the romantics lent him. No one wants to laugh at that tormented, pitiful Don Juan. He is pitied; heaven itself will redeem him ? But that’s not it. In the universe of which Don Juan has a glimpse, ridicule too is included. He would consider it normal to be chastised. That is the rule of the game. And, indeed, it is typical of his nobility to have accepted all the rules of the game. Yet he knows he is right and that there can be no question of punishment. A fate is not a punishment.

That is his crime, and how easy it is to understand why the men of God call down punishment on his head. He achieves a knowledge without illusions which negates everything they profess. Loving and possessing, conquering and consuming — that is his way of knowing. （There is significance in that favourite Scriptural word that calls the carnal act ‘knowing’.）He is their worst enemy to the extent that he is ignorant of them. A chronicler relates that the true ‘Burlador’ died assassinated by Franciscans who wanted ‘to put an end to the excesses and blasphemies of Don Juan whose birth assured him impunity’. Then they proclaimed that heaven had struck him down. No one has proved that strange end. Nor has anyone proved the contrary. But without wondering if it is probable, I can say that it is logical. I want merely to single out at this point the word ‘birth’ and to play on words: it was the fact of living that assured his innocence. It was from death alone that he derived a guilt now become legendary.

What else does that stone Commander signify, that cold statue set in motion to punish the blood and courage that dared to think? All the powers of eternal Reason, of order, of universal morality, all the foreign grandeur of a God open to wrath are summed up in him. That gigantic and soulless stone merely symbolizes the forces that Don Juan negated forever. But the Commander’s mission stops there. The thunder and lightning can return to the imitation heaven whence they were called forth. The real tragedy takes place quite apart from them. No, it was not under a stone hand that Don Juan met his death. I am inclined to believe in the legendary bravado, in that mad laughter of the healthy man provoking a non-existent God. But, above all, I believe that on that evening when Don Juan was waiting at Anna’s the Commander didn’t come and that, after midnight, the blasphemer must have felt the dreadful bitterness of those who have been fight. I accept even more readily the account of his life that has him eventually burying himself in a monastery. Not that the edifying aspect of the story can be considered probable. What refuge can he go to ask of God ? But this symbolizes rather the logical outcome of a life completely imbued with the absurd, the grim ending of an existence turned towards short-lived joys. At this point sensual pleasure winds up in asceticism. It is essential to realize that they may be as it were the two aspects of the same destitution. What more ghastly image can be called up than that of a man betrayed by his body who, simply because he did not die in time, lives out the comedy while awaiting the end, face to face with that God he does not adore, serving him as he served life, kneeling before a void and arms outstretched towards a heaven without eloquence that he knows to be also without depth?

I see Don Juan in a cell of one of those Spanish monasteries lost on a hill-top. And if he contemplates anything at all, it is not the ghosts of past loves, but perhaps, through a narrow slit in the sun-baked wall, some silent Spanish plain, a noble soulless land in which he recognizes himself. Yes, it is on this melancholy and radiant image that the curtain must be rung down. The ultimate end, awaited but never desired, the ultimate end is negligible.

Drama

‘The play’s the thing,’ says Hamlet, ‘wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.’ Catch is indeed the word. For con science moves swiftly or withdraws within itself. It has to be caught on the wing, at that barely perceptible moment when it glances fleetingly at itself. The everyday man does not enjoy tarrying. Everything, on the contrary, hurries him onward. But at the same time nothing interests him more than himself, especially his potentialities. Whence his interest in the theatre, in the show, where so many fates are offered him, where he can accept the poetry without feeling the sorrow. There, at least, can be recognized the thought less man, and he continues to hasten towards some hope or other. The absurd man begins where that one leaves off, where, ceasing to admire the play, the mind wants to enter in. Entering into all these lives, experiencing them in their diversity, amounts to acting them out. I am not saying that actors in general obey that impulse, that they are absurd men, but that their fate is an absurd fate which might charm and attract a lucid heart. It is necessary to establish this in order to grasp without misunderstanding what will follow.

The actor’s realm is that of the fleeting. Of all kinds of fame, it is known, his is the most ephemeral. At least this is said in conversation. But all kinds of fame are ephemeral. From the point of view of Sirius, Goethe’s works in ten thou sand years will be dust and his name forgotten. Perhaps a handful of archaeologists will look for ‘evidence’ as to our era. That idea has always contained a lesson. Seriously meditated upon, it reduces our perturbations to the profound nobility that is found in indifference. Above all, it directs our concerns towards what is most certain, that is towards the immediate. Of all kinds of fame the least deceptive is the one that is lived.

Hence the actor has chosen multiple fame, the fame that is hallowed and tested. From the fact that everything is to die some day he draws the best conclusion. An actor succeeds or does not succeed. A writer has some hope even if he is not appreciated. He assumes that his works will bear wimess to what he was. At best the actor will leave us a photograph, and nothing of what he was himself, his gestures and his silences, his gasping or his panting with love, will come down to us. For him, not to be known is not to act, and not acting is dying a hundred times with all the creatures he would have brought to life or resuscitated.

Why should we be surprised to find a fleeting fame built upon the most ephemeral of creations? The actor has three hours to be Iago or Alceste, Phèdre or Gloucester. In that short space of time he makes them come to life and die on fifty square yards of boards. Never has the absurd been so well illustrated or at such length. What more revelatory epitome can be imagined than those marvellous lives, those exceptional and total destinies unfolding for a few hours within a stage set? Off the stage, Sigismundo ceases to count. Two hours later he is seen dining out. Then it is, perhaps, that life is a dream. But after Sigismundo comes another. The hero suffering from uncertainty takes the place of the man roaring for his revenge. By thus sweeping over centuries and minds, by miming man as he can be and as he is, the actor has much in common with that other absurd individual, the traveller. Like him, he drains something and is constantly on the move. He is a traveller in time and, for the best, the hunted traveller, pursued by souls. If ever the ethics of quantity could find sustenance, it is indeed on that strange stage. To what degree the actor benefits from the characters is hard to say. But that is not the important thing. It is merely a matter of knowing how far he identifies himself with those irreplaceable lives. It often happens that he carries them with him, that they somewhat overflow the time and place in which they were born. They accompany the actor, who cannot very readily separate himself from what he has been. Occasionally when reaching for his glass he resumes Hamlet’s gesture of raising his cup. No, the distance separating him from the creatures into whom he infuses life is not so great. He abundantly illustrates every month or every day that so suggestive truth that there is no frontier between what a man wants to be and what he is. Always concerned with better representing, he demonstrates to what a degree appearing creates being. For that is his art — to simulate absolutely, to project himself as deeply as possible into lives that are not his own. At the end of his effort his vocation becomes clear: to apply himself whole heartedly to being nothing or to being several. The narrower the limits allotted him for creating his character the more necessary his talent. He will die in three hours under the mask he has assumed today. Within three hours he must experience and express a whole exceptional life. That is called losing oneself to find oneself. In those three hours he travels the whole course of the dead-end path that the man in the audience takes a lifetime to cover.

A mime of the ephemeral, the actor trains and perfects himself only in appearances. The theatrical convention is that the heart expresses itself and communicates itself only through gestures and in the body — or through the voice which is as much of the soul as of the body. The rule of that art insists that everything be magnified and translated into flesh. If it were essential on the stage to love as people really love, to employ that irreplaceable voice of the heart, to look as people contemplate in life, our speech would be in code. But here silences must make themselves heard. Love speaks up louder and immobility itself becomes spectacular.

The body is king. Not everyone can be ‘theatrical’ and this unjustly maligned word covers a whole aesthetic and a whole ethic. Half a man’s life is spent in implying, in turning away, and in keeping silent. Here the actor is the in truder. He breaks the spell chaining that soul, and at last the passions can rush on to their stage. They speak in every gesture; they live only through shouts and cries. Thus the actor creates his characters for display. He outlines or sculptures them and slips into their imaginary form, transfusing his blood into their phantoms. I am, of course, speaking of great drama, the kind that gives the actor an opportunity to fulfil his wholly physical fate. Take Shakespeare, for instance. In that impulsive drama the physical passions lead the dance. They explain everything. Without them all would collapse. Never would King Lear keep the appointment set by madness without the brutal gesture that exiles Cordelia and condemns Edgar. It is just that the unfolding of that tragedy should thenceforth be dominated by madness. Souls are given over to the demons and their sarabande. No fewer than four madmen: one by trade, another by intention, and the last two through suffering — four disordered bodies, four unutterable aspects of a single condition.

The very scale of the human body is inadequate. The mask and the buskin, the make-up that reduces and accentuates the face in its essential elements, the costume that exaggerates and simplifies — that universe sacrifices everything to appearance and is made solely for the eye. Through an absurd miracle, it is the body that also brings knowledge. I should never really understand Iago unless I played his part. It is not enough to hear him, for I grasp him only at the moment when I see him. Of the absurd character the actor consequently has the monotony, that single, oppressive silhouette, simultaneously strange and familiar, that he carries about from hero to hero. There, too, the great dramatic work contributes to this unity of tone.[2] This is where the actor contradicts himself: the same and yet so various, so many souls summed up in a single body. Yet it is the absurd contradiction itself, that individual who wants to achieve everything and live everything, that useless attempt, that ineffectual persistence. What always contradicts itself nevertheless joins in him. He is at that point where body and mind converge, where the mind, fired of its defeats, turns towards its most faithful ally. ‘And blest are those,’ says Hamlet, ‘whose blood and judgement are so well commingled that they are not a pipe for fortune’s finger to sound what stop she please.’

How could the Church have failed to condemn such a practice on the part of the actor? She repudiated in that art the heretical multiplication of souls, the emotional debauch, the scandalous presumption of a mind that objects to living but one life and hurls itself into all forms of excess. She proscribed in them that preference for the present and that triumph of Proteus which are the negation of everything she teaches. Eternity is not a game. A mind foolish enough to prefer a comedy to eternity has lost its salvation. Between ‘everywhere’ and ‘forever’ there is no compromise. Whence that much maligned profession can give rise to a tremendous spiritual conflict. ‘What matters,’ said Nietzsche, ‘is not eternal life but eternal vivacity.’ All drama is, in fact, in this choice.

Adrienne Lecouvreur on her deathbed was willing to con fess and receive communion but refused to abjure her profession. She thereby lost the benefit of the confession. Did this not amount, in effect, to choosing her absorbing passion in preference to God? And that woman in the death-throes refusing in tears to repudiate what she called her art gave evidence of a greatness that she never achieved behind the footlights. This was her finest role and the hardest one to play. Choosing between heaven and a ridiculous fidelity, preferring oneself to eternity or losing oneself in God is the age-old tragedy in which each must play his part.

The actors of the era knew they were excommunicated. Entering the profession amounted to choosing Hell. And the Church discerned in them her worst enemies. A few men of letters protest: ‘What! Refuse the last rites to Molière!’ But that was just, and especially in one who died on stage and finished under the actor’s make-up a life entirely de voted to dispersion. In his case genius is invoked, which excuses everything. But genius excuses nothing, just because it refuses to do so.

The actor knew at that time what punishment was in store for him. But what significance could such vague threats have compared to the final punishment that life itself was reserving for him? This was the one that he felt in advance and accepted wholly. To the actor as to the absurd man a premature death is irreparable. Nothing can make up for the sum of faces and centuries he would otherwise have traversed. But in any case one has to die. For the actor is doubtless everywhere, but time sweeps him along too and makes its impression with him.

It requires but a little imagination to feel what an actor’s fate means. It is in time that he makes up and enumerates his characters. It is in time likewise that he learns to dominate them. The greater number of different lives he has lived the more aloof he can be from them. The time comes when he must die to the stage and for the world. What he has lived faces him. He sees clearly. He feels the harrowing and irreplaceable quality of that adventure. He knows and can now die. There are homes for aged actors.

Conquest

‘No,’ says the conqueror, ‘don’t assume that because I love action I have had to forget how to think. On the contrary, I can thoroughly define what I believe. For I believe it firmly and I see it surely and clearly. Beware of those who say: “I know this too well to be able to express it.” For if they cannot do so, this is because they don’t know it or because out of laziness they stopped at the outer crust.

‘I have not many opinions. At the end of a life man notices that he has spent years becoming sure of a single truth. But a single truth, if it is obvious, is enough to guide an existence. As for me, I decidedly have something to say about the individual. One must speak of him bluntly and, if need be, with the appropriate contempt.

‘A man is more a man through the things he keeps to himself than through those he says. There are many that I shall keep to myself. But I firmly believe that all those who have judged the individual have done so with much less experience than we on which to base their judgement. The intelligence, the stirring intelligence perhaps foresaw what it was essential to note. But the era, its ruins and its blood over whelm us with facts. It was possible for ancient nations, and even for more recent ones down to our machine-age, to weigh one against the other the virtues of society and of the individual, to try to find out which was to serve the other. To begin with, that was possible by virtue of that stubborn aberration in man’s heart according to which human beings were created to serve or be served. In the second place, it was possible because neither society nor the individual had yet revealed all their ability.

‘I have seen bright minds express astonishment at the masterpieces of Dutch painters born at the height of the bloody wars in Flanders, be mazed by the prayers of Silesian mystics brought up during the frightful Thirty Years’ War. Eternal values survive secular turmoils before their astonished eyes. But there has been progress since. The painters of today are deprived of such serenity. Even if they have basically the heart the creator needs, I mean the closed heart, it is of no use; for everyone, including the saint himself, is mobilized. This is perhaps what I have felt most deeply. At every form that miscarries in the trenches, at every outline, metaphor, or prayer crushed under steel, the eternal loses a round. Conscious that I cannot stand aloof from my time, I have decided to be an integral part of it. This is why I esteem the individual only because he strikes me as ridiculous and humiliated. Knowing that there are no victorious causes, I have a liking for lost causes: they require an uncontaminated soul, equal to its defeat as to its temporary victories. For anyone who feels bound up with this world’s fate, the clash of civilizations has something agonizing about it. I have made that anguish mine at the same time that I wanted to join in. Between history and the eternal I have chosen history because I like certainties. Of it at least I am certain, and how can I deny this force crushing me?

‘There always comes a time when one must choose between contemplation and action. This is called becoming a man. Such wrenches are dreadful. But for a proud heart there can be no compromise. There is God or time, that cross or this sword. This world has a higher meaning that transcends its worries or nothing is true but those worries. One must live with time and die with it or else elude it for a greater life. I know that one can compromise and live in the world while believing in the eternal. That is called accepting. But I loathe this term and want all or nothing. If I choose action, don’t think that contemplation is like an unknown country to me. But it cannot give me everything and, deprived of the eternal, I want to ally myself with time. I do not want to put down to my account either nostalgia or bitterness and I merely want to see clearly. I tell you, tomorrow you will be mobilized. For you and for me that is a liberation. The individual can do nothing and yet he can do everything. In that wonderful unattached state you understand why I exalt and crush him at one and the same time. It is the world that pulverizes him and I who liberate him. I provide him with all his rights.

‘Conquerors know that action is in itself useless. There is but one useful action, that of remaking man and the earth. I shall never remake men. But one must do “as if ”. For the path of struggle leads me to the flesh. Even humiliated, the flesh is my only certainty. I can live only on it. The creature is my native land. This is why I have chosen this absurd and ineffectual effort. This is why I am on the side of the struggle. The epoch lends itself to this, as I have said. Hitherto the greatness of a conqueror was geographical. It was measured by the extent of the conquered territories. There is a reason why the word has changed in meaning and has ceased to signify the victorious general. The greatness has changed camp. It lies in protest and the blind-alley sacrifice. There, too, it is not through a preference for defeat. Victory would be desirable. But there is but one victory and it is eternal. That is the one I shall never have. That is where I stumble and cling. A revolution is always accomplished against the gods, beginning with the revolution of Prometheus, the first of modem conquerors. It is man’s demands made against his fate; the demands of the poor are but a pretext. Yet I can seize that spirit only in its historical act and that is where I make contact with it. Don’t assume, however, that I take pleasure in it: opposite the essential contradiction, I maintain my human contradiction. I establish my lucidity in the midst of what negates it. I exalt man before what crushes him and my freedom, my revolt and my passion come together then in that tension, that lucidity and that vast repetition.

‘Yes, man is his own end. And he is his only end. If he aims to be something, it is in this life. Now I know it only too well. Conquerors sometimes talk of vanquishing and overcoming. But it is always “overcoming oneself ” that they mean. You are well aware of what that means. Every man has felt himself to be the equal of a god at certain moments. At least, this is the way it is expressed. But this comes from that fact that, in a flash, he felt the amazing grandeur of the human mind. The conquerors are merely those among men who are conscious enough of their strength to be sure of living constantly on those heights and fully aware of that grandeur. It is a question of arithmetic, of more or less. The conquerors are capable of the more. But they are capable of no more than man himself when he wants. This is why they never leave the human crucible, plunging into the seething soul of revolutions.

‘There they find the creature mutilated, but they also encounter there the only values they like and admire, man and his silence. This is both their destitution and their wealth. There is but one luxury for them — that of human relations. How can one fail to realize that in this vulnerable universe everything that is human and solely human assumes a more vivid meaning? Taut faces, threatened fraternity, such strong and chaste friendship among men — these are the true riches because they are transitory. In their midst the mind is most aware of its powers and limitations. That is to say, its efficacy. Some have spoken of genius. But genius is easy to say; I prefer the intelligence. It must be said that it can be magnificent then. It lights up this desert and dominates it. It knows its obligations and illustrates them. It will die at the same time as this body. But knowing this constitutes its freedom.

‘We are not ignorant of the fact that all churches are against us. A heart so keyed up eludes the eternal, and all churches, divine or political, lay claim to the eternal. Happiness and courage, retribution or justice are secondary ends for them. It is a doctrine they bring, and one must subscribe to it. But I have no concern with ideas or with the eternal. The truths that come within my scope can be touched with the hand. I cannot separate from them. This is why you cannot base anything on me: nothing of the conqueror lasts, not even his doctrines.

‘At the end of all that, despite everything, is death. We know also that it ends everything. This is why those cemeteries all over Europe, which obsess some among us, are hideous. People beautify only what they love and death repels us and tires our patience. It, too, is to be conquered. The last Carrara, a prisoner in Padua emptied by the plague and besieged by the Venetians, ran screaming through the halls of his deserted palace: he was calling on the devil and asking him for death. This was a way of overcoming it. And it is likewise a mark of courage characteristic of the Occident to have made so ugly the places where death thinks itself honoured. In the rebel’s universe, death exalts in justice. It is the supreme abuse.

‘Others, without compromising either, have chosen the eternal and denounced the illusion of this world. Their cemeteries smile amid numerous flowers and birds. That suits the conqueror and gives him a clear image of what he has rejected. He has chosen, on the contrary, the black iron fence or the potter’s field. The best among the men of God occasionally are seized with fright mingled with consideration and pity for minds that can livewith such an image of their death. Yet those minds derive their strength and justification from this. Our fate stands before us and we provoke him. Less out of pride than out of awareness of our ineffectual condition. We, too, sometimes feel pity for ourselves. It is the only compassion that seems acceptable to us: a feeling that perhaps you hardly understand and that seems to you scarcely virile. Yet the most daring among us are the ones who feel it. But we call the lucid ones virile and we do not want a strength that is apart from lucidity.’

Let me repeat that these images do not propose moral codes and involve no judgements: they are sket-ches. They merely represent a style of life. The lover, the actor, or the adventurer plays the absurd. But equally well, if he wishes, the chaste man, the civil servant, or the President of the Republic. It is enough to know and to mask nothing. In Italian museums are sometimes found little painted screens that the priest used to hold in front of the face of condemned men to hide the scaffold from them. The leap in all its forms, rushing into the divine or the eternal, surrendering to the illusions of the everyday or of the idea — all these screens hide the absurd. But there are civil servants without screens and they are the ones of whom I mean to speak.

I have chosen the most extreme ones. At this level the absurd gives them a royal power. It is true that those princes are without a kingdom. But they have this advantage over others: they know that all royalties are illusory. They know, that is their whole nobility, and it is useless to speak in relation to them of hidden misfortune or the ashes of disillusion. Being deprived of hope is not despairing. The flames of earth are surely worth celestial perfumes. Neither I nor anyone can judge them here. They are not striving to be better, they are attempting to be consistent. If the term ‘wise man’ can be applied to the man who lives on what he has without speculating on what he has not, then they are wise men. One of them, a conqueror but in the realm of mind, a Don Juan but of knowledge, an actor but of the intelligence, knows this better than anyone: ‘You nowise deserve a privilege on earth and in heaven for having brought to perfection your dear little meek sheep; you nonetheless continue to be at best a ridiculous dear little sheep with horns and nothing more — even supposing that you do not burst with vanity and do not cream a scandal by posing as a judge.’

In any case it was essential to restore to the absurd reasoning more cordial examples. The imagination can add many others, inseparable from time and exile, who likewise know how to live in harmony with a universe without future and without weakness. This absurd, godless world is then peopled with men who think clearly and who have ceased to hope. And I have not yet spoken of the most absurd character, who is the creator.

[1]In the fullest sense and with his faults. A healthy attitude also includes faults.

[2]At this point I am thinking of Molière’s Alceste. Everything is so simple, so obvious and so coarse. Alceste against Philinte, Célimene against Elianthe, the whole subject in the absurd consequence of a nature carded to its extreme, and the verse itself, the ‘bad verse’ , barely accented like the monotony of the character’s nature.

Absurd Creation

Philosophy and Fiction

All those lives maintained in the rarefied air of the absurd could not persevere without some profound and constant thought to infuse its strength into them. Right here, it can be only a strange feeling of fidelity. Conscious men have been seen to fulfil their task amidst the most stupid of wars without considering themselves in contradiction. This is because it was essential to elude nothing. There is thus a metaphysical honour in enduring the world’s absurdity. Conquest or play-acting, multiple loves, absurd revolt are tributes that man pays to his dignity in a campaign in which he is defeated in advance.

It is merely a matter of being faithful to the rule of the Battle. That thought may suffice to sustain a mind; it has supported and still supports whole dvilizations. War cannot be negated. One must live it or die of it. So it is with the absurd: it is a question of breathing with it, of recognizing its lessons and recovering their flesh. In this regard the absurd joy par excellence is creation. ‘Art and nothing but art,’ said Nietzsche; ‘we have art in order not to die of the truth.’

In the experience that I am attempting to describe and to stress on several modes, it is certain that a new torment arises wherever another dies. The childish chasing after forgetfulness, the appeal of satisfaction are now devoid of echo. But the constant tension that keeps man face to face with the world, the ordered delirium that urges him to be receptive to everything, leave him another fever. In this universe the work of art is then the sole chance of keeping his consciousness and of fixing its adventures. Creating is living doubly. The groping, anxious quest of a Proust, his meticulous collecting of flowers, of wallpapers, and of anxieties, signifies nothing else. At the same time, it has no more significance than the continual and imperceptible creation in which the actor, the conqueror, and all absurd men indulge every day of their lives. All try their hands at miming, at repeating, and at re-creating the reality that is theirs. We always end up by having the appearance of our truths. All existence for a man turned away from the eternal is but a vast mime under the mask of the absurd. Creation is the great mime.

Such men know to begin with, and then their whole effort is to examine, to enlarge, and to enrich the ephemeral island on which they have just landed. But first they must know. For the absurd discovery coincides with a pause in which future passions are prepared and justified. Even men without a gospel have their Mount of Olives. And one must not fall asleep on theirs either. For the absurd man it is not a matter of explaining and solving, but of experiencing and describing. Everything begins with lucid indifference.

Describing — that is the last ambition of an absurd thought. Science likewise, having reached the end of its paradoxes, ceases to propound and stops to contemplate and sketch the ever-virgin landscape of phenomena. The heart learns thus that the emotion delighting us when we see the world’s aspects comes to us not from its depth but from their diversity. Explanation is useless but the sensation remains and, with it, the constant attractions of a universe inexhaustible in quantity. The place of the work of art can be understood at this point.

It marks both the death of an experience and its multiplication. It is a sort of monotonous and passionate repetition of the themes already orchestrated by the world: the body, inexhaustible image on the pediment of temples, forms or colours, number or grief. It is, therefore, not in different, as a conclusion, to encounter once again the principal themes of this essay in the wonderful and childish world of the creator. It would be wrong to see a symbol in it and to think that the work of art can be considered at last as a refuge for the absurd. It is itself an absurd phenomenon and we are concerned merely with its description. It does not offer an escape for the intellectual ailment. Rather, it is one of the symptoms of that ailment which reflects it throughout a man’s whole thought. But for the first time it makes the mind get outside of itself and places it in opposition to others, not for it to get lost but to show it clearly the blind path that all have entered upon. In the time of the absurd reasoning, creation follows indifference and discovery. It marks the point from which absurd passions spring and where the reasoning stops. Its place in this essay is justified in this way.

It will suffice to bring to light a few themes common to the creator and the thinker in order to find in the work of art all the contradictions of thought involved in the absurd. Indeed, it is not so much identical conclusions that prove minds to be related as the contradictions that are common to them. So it is with thought and creation. I hardly need to say that the same anguish urges man to these two attitudes. This is where they coincide in the beginning. But among all the thoughts that start from the absurd, I have seen that very few remain within it. And through their deviations or infidelities I have best been able to measure what belonged to the absurd. Similarly, I must wonder: is an absurd work of art possible?

It would be impossible to insist too much on the arbitrary nature of the former opposition between art and philosophy. If you insist on taking it in too limited a sense, it is cer tainly false. If you mean merely that these two disciplines each have their peculiar climate, that is probably true but remains vague. The only acceptable argument lay in the contradiction brought up between the philosopher enclosed within his system and the artist placed before his work. But this was pertinent for a certain form of art and of philosophy which we consider secondary here. The idea of an art detached from its creator is not only outmoded; it is false. In opposition to the artist, it is pointed out that no philosopher ever created several systems. But that is true insofar, indeed, as no artist ever expressed more than one thing under different aspects. The instantaneous perfection of art, the necessity for its renewal — this is true only through a preconceived notion. For the work of art likewise is a construction and everyone knows how monotonous the great creators can be. For the same reason as the thinker, the artist commits himself and becomes himself in his work. That osmosis raises the most important of aesthetic problems. Moreover, to anyone who is convinced of the mind’s singleness of purpose, nothing is more futile than these distinctions based on methods and objects. There are no frontiers between the disciplines that man sets himself for understanding and loving. They interlock and the same anxiety merges them.

It is necessary to state this to begin with. For an absurd work of art to be possible, thought in its most lucid form must be involved in it. But at the same time thought must not be apparent except as the regulating intelligence. This paradox can be explained according to the absurd. The work of art is born of the intelligence’s refusal to reason the concrete. It marks the triumph of the carnal. It is lucid thought that provokes it but in that very act that thought repudiates itself. It will not yield to the temptation of adding to what is described a deeper meaning that it knows to be illegitimate. The work of art embodies a drama of the intelligence, but it proves this only indirectly. The absurd work requires an artist conscious of these limitations and an art in which the concrete signifies nothing more than itself. It cannot be the end, the meaning, and the consolation of a life. Creating or not creating changes nothing. The absurd creator does not prize his work. He could repudiate it. He does some times repudiate it. An Abyssinia suffices for this, as in the case of Rimbaud.

At the same time a rule of aesthetics can be seen in this. The true work of art is always on the human scale. It is essentially the one that says ‘less’. There is a certain relationship between the global experience of the artist and the work that reflects that experience, between Wilhelm Meister and Goethe’s maturity. That relationship is bad when the work aims to give the whole experience in the lace-paper of an, explanatory literature. That relationship is good when the work is but a piece cut out of experience, a facet of the diamond in which the inner lustre is epitomized without being limited. In the first case there is overloading and pretension to the eternal. In the second, a fecund work because of a whole implied experience, the wealth of which is suspected. The problem for the absurd artist is to acquire this savoir-vivre which transcends savoir-faire. And, in the end, the great artist under this climate is above all a great living being, it being understood that living in this case is just as much experiencing as reflecting. The work then embodies an intellectual drama. The absurd work illustrates thought’s renouncing of its prestige and its resignation to being no more than the intelligence that works up appearances and covers with images what has no reason. If the world were clear, art would not exist.

I am not speaking here of the arts of form or colour in which description alone prevails in its splendid modesty.[1] Expression begins where thought ends. Those adolescents with empty eye-sockets who people temples and museums — their philosophy has been expressed in gestures. For an absurd man it is more educative than all libraries. Under another aspect the same is true for music. If any art is devoid of lessons, it is certainly music. It is too closely related to mathematics not to have borrowed their gratuitousness. That game the mind plays with itself according to set and measured laws takes place in the sonorous compass that belongs to us and beyond which the vibrations nevertheless meet in an inhuman universe. There is no purer sensation. These examples are too easy. The absurd man recognizes as his own these harmonies and these forms.

But I should like to speak here of a work in which the temptation to explain remains greatest, in which illusion offers itself automatically, in which conclusion is almost inevitable. I mean fictional creation. I propose to inquire whether or not the absurd can hold its own there.

To think is first of all to create a world （or to limit one’s own world, which comes to the same thing）. It is starting out from the basic agreement that separates man from his experience in order to find a common ground according to one’s nostalgia, a universe hedged with reasons or lighted up with analogies but which, in any case, gives an opportunity to rescind the unbearable divorce. The philosopher, even if he is Kant, is a creator. He has his characters, his symbols and his secret action. He has his plot-endings. On the contrary, the lead taken by the novel over poetry and the essay merely represents, despite appearances, a greater intellectualization of the art. Let there be no mistake about it; I am speaking of the greatest. The fecundity and the importance of a literary form are often measured by the trash it contains. The number of bad novels must not make us forget the value of the best. These, indeed, carry with them their universe. The novel has its logic, its reasonings, its intuition, and its postulates. It also has its requirements of clarity.[2]

The classical opposition of which I was speaking above is even less justified in this particular case. It held in the time when it was easy to separate philosophy from its authors. Today when thought has ceased to lay claim to the universal, when its best history would be that of its repentances, we know that the system, when it is worth while, cannot be separated from its author. The Ethics itself, in one of its aspects, is but a long and reasoned personal confession. Abstract thought at last returns to its prop of flesh. And likewise, the fictional activities of the body and of the passions are regulated a little more according to the requirements of a vision of the world. The writer has given up telling ‘stories’ and creates his universe. The great novelists are philosophical novelists, that is the contrary of thesis-writers. For instance, Balzac, Sade, Melville, Stendhal, Dostoievsky, Proust, Malraux, Kafka, to cite but a few.

But, in fact, the preference they have shown for writing in images rather than in reasoned arguments is revelatory of a certain thought that is common to them all, convinced of the uselessness of any principle of explanation and sure of the educative message of perceptible appearance. They consider the work of art both as an end and a beginning. It is the outcome of an often unexpressed philosophy, its illustration and its consummation. But it is complete only through the implications of that philosophy. It justifies at last that variant of an old theme that a little thought estranges from life whereas much thought reconciles to life. Incapable of refining the real, thought pauses to mimic it. The novel in question is the instrument of that simultaneously relative and inexhaustible knowledge, so like that of love. Of love, fictional creation has the initial wonder and the fecund rumination.

These at least are the charms I see in it at the outset. But I saw them likewise in those princes of humiliated thought whose suicides I was later able to witness. What interests me, indeed, is knowing and describing the force that leads them back towards the common path of illusion. The same method will consequently help me here. The fact of having already utilized it will allow me to shorten my argument and to sum it up without delay in a particular example. I want to know whether, accepting a life without appeal, one can also agree to work and create without appeal and what is the way leading to these liberties. I want to liberate my universe of its phantoms and to people it solely with flesh and blood truths whose presence I cannot deny. I can perform absurd work, choose the creative attitude rather than another. But an absurd attitude, if it is to remain so, must remain aware of its gratuitousness. So it is with the work of art. If the commandments of the absurd are not respected, if the work does not illustrate divorce and revolt, if it sacrifices to illusions and arouses hope, it ceases to be gratuitous. I can no longer detach myself from it. My life may find a meaning in it but that is trifling. It ceases to be that exercise in detachment and passion which crowns the splendour and futility of a man’s life.

In the creation in which the temptation to explain is the strongest, can one overcome that temptation? In the fictional world in which awareness of the real world is keenest, can I remain faithful to the absurd without sacrificing to the desire to judge? So many questions to be taken into consideration in a last effort. It must be already clear what they signify. They are the last scruples of an awareness that fears to forsake its initial and difficult lesson in favour of a final illusion. What holds for creation, looked upon as one of the possible attitudes for the man conscious of the absurd, holds for all the styles of life open to him. The conqueror or the actor, the creator or Don Juan may forget that their exercise in living could not do without awareness of its mad character. One becomes accustomed so quickly. A man wants to earn money in order to be happy and his whole effort and the best of a life are devoted to the earning of that money. Happiness is forgotten; the means are taken for the end. Likewise the whole effort of this conqueror will be diverted to ambition, which was but a way towards a greater life. Don Juan in turn will likewise yield to his fate, be satisfied with that existence whose nobility is of value only through revolt. For one it is awareness and for the other, revolt; in both cases the absurd has disappeared. There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart. The most destitute men often end up by accepting illusion. That approval prompted by the need for peace inwardly parallels the existential consent. There are thus gods of light and idols of mud. But it is essential to find the middle path leading to the faces of man.

So far, the failures of the absurd exigence have best informed us as to what it is. In the same way, if we are to be informed it will suffice to notice that fictional creation can present the same ambiguity as certain philosophies. Hence I can choose as illustration a work comprising everything that denotes awareness of the absurd, having a clear starting point and a lucid climate. Its consequences will enlighten us. If the absurd is not respected in it, we shall know by what expedient illusion enters in. A particular example, a theme, a creator’s fidelity will suffice them. This involves the same analysis that has already been made at greater length.

I shall examine a favourite theme of Dostoievsky. I might just as well have studied other works.[3] But in this work the problem is treated directly, in the sense of nobility and emotion, as for the existential philosophies already discussed. This parallelism serves my purpose.

Kirilov

All of Dostoievsky’s heroes question themselves as to the meaning of life. In this they are modern: they do not fear ridicule. What distinguishes modem sensibility from classical sensibility is that the latter thrives on moral problems and the former on metaphysical problems. In Dostoievsky’s novels the question is propounded with such intensity that it can only invite extreme solutions. Existence is illusory or it is eternal. If Dostoievsky were satisfied with this inquiry, he would be a philosopher. But he illustrates the conse- quences that such intellectual pastimes may have in a man’s life and in this regard he is an artist. Among those consequences, his attention is arrested particularly by the last one, which he himself calls logical suicide in his Diary of a Writer. In the instalments for December 1876, indeed, he imagines the reasoning of ‘logical suicide’. Convinced that human existence is an utter absurdity for anyone without faith in immortality, the desperate man comes to the following conclusions:

‘Since in reply to my questions about happiness, I am told, through the intermediary of my consciousness, that I cannot be happy except in harmony with the great all, which I cannot conceive and shall never be in a position to conceive, it is evident . . .’

‘Since, finally in this connection, I assume both the role of the plaintiff and that of the defendant, of the accused and of the judge, and since I consider this comedy perpetrated by nature altogether stupid, and since I even deem it humiliating for me to deign to play it . . .’

‘In my indisputable capacity of plaintiff and defendant, of judge and accused, I condemn that nature which, with such impudent nerve, brought me into being in order to suffer — I condemn it to be annihilated with me.’

There remains a little humour in that position. This suicide kills himself because, on the metaphysical plane, he is vexed. In a certain sense he is taking his revenge. This is his way of proving that he ‘will not be had’. It is known, however, that the same theme is: embodied, but with the most wonderful generality, in Kirilov of The Possessed, likewise an advocate of logical suicide. Kirilov the engineer declares somewhere that he wants to take his own life because it ‘is his idea’. Obviously the word must be taken in its proper sense. It is for an idea, a thought that he is getting ready for death. This is the superior suicide. Progressively, in a series of scenes in which Kirilov’s mind is gradually illuminated, the fatal thought driving him is revealed to us. The engineer, in fact, goes back to the arguments of the Diary. He feels that God is necessary and that he must exist. But he knows that he does not and cannot exist ‘Why do you not realize,’ he exclaims, ‘that this is sufficient reason for killing oneself?’ That attitude involves likewise for him some of the absurd consequences. Through indifference he accepts letting his suicide be used to the advantage of a cause he despises. ‘I decided last night that I didn’t care.’ And finally he prepares his deed with a mixed feeling of revolt and freedom. ‘I shall kill myself in order to assert my insubordination, my new and dreadful liberty.’ It is no longer a question of revenge, but of revolt. Kirilov is consequently an absurd character — yet with this essential reservation: he kills himself. But he himself explains this contradiction, and in such a way that at the same time he reveals the absurd secret in all its purity. In truth, he adds to his fatal logic an extraordinary ambition which gives the character its full perspective: he wants to kill himself to become god.

The reasoning is classic in its clarity. If God does not exist, Kirilov is god. If God does not exist, Kirilov must kill himself. Kirilov must therefore kill himself to become god. That logic is absurd, but it is what is needed. The interesting thing, however, is to give a meaning to that divinity brought to earth. That amounts to clarifying the premise: ‘If God does not exist, I am god,’ which still remains rather obscure. It is important to note at the outset that the man who flaunts that mad claim is indeed of this world. He performs his gymnastics every morning to preserve his health. He is stirred by the joy of Chatov recovering his wife. On a sheet of paper to be found after his death he wants to draw a face sticking out his tongue at ‘them’. He is childish and irascible, passionate, methodical, and sensitive. Of the superman he has nothing but the logic and the obsession, whereas of man he has the whole catalogue. Yet it is he who speaks calmly of his divinity. He is not mad or else Dostoievsky is. Consequently it is not a megalomaniac’s illusion that excites him. And taking the words in their specific sense would, in this instance, be ridiculous.

Kirilov himself helps us to understand. In reply to a question from Stavrogin, he makes it clear that he is not talking of a god-man. It might be thought that this springs from concern to distinguish himself from Christ. But in reality it is a matter of annexing Christ. Kirilov, in fact, fancies for a moment that Jesus at his death did not find himself in Paradise. He found out then that his torture had been useless. ‘The laws of nature,’ says the engineer, ‘made Christ live in the midst of falsehood and die for a false- hood.’ Solely in this sense Jesus indeed personifies the whole human drama. He is the complete man, being the one who realized the most absurd condition. He is not the Godman but the man-god. And, like him, each of us can be crucified and victimized — and is to a certain degree.

The divinity in question is therefore altogether terrestrial. ‘For three years,’ says Kirilov, ‘I sought the attribute of my divinity and I have found it. The attribute of my divinity is independence.’ Now can be seen the meaning of Kirilov’s premiss: ‘If God does not exist, I am god.’ To become god is merely to be free on this earth, not to serve an immortal being. Above all, of course, it is drawing all the inferences from that painful independence. If God exists all depends on him and we can do nothing against his will. If he does not exist, everything depends on us. For Kirilov, as for Nietzsche, to kill God is to become god oneself; it is to realize on this earth the eternal life of which the Gospel speaks.[4]

But if this metaphysical crime is enough for man’s fulfilment, why add suicide? Why kill oneself and leave this world after having won freedom? That is contradictory. Kifilov is well aware of this, for he adds: ‘If you feel that, you are a Czar and, far from killing yourself, you will live covered with glory.’ But men in general do not know. They do not feel ‘that’. As in the time of Prometheus, they enter tain blind hopes.[5] They need to be shown the way and cannot do without preaching. Consequently Kirilov must kill himself out of love for humanity. He must show his brothers a royal and difficult path on which he will be the first. It is a pedagogical suicide. Kirilov sacrifices himself then. But if he is crucified, he will not be victimized. He remains the man-god, convinced of a death without future, imbued with evangelical melancholy. ‘I,’ he says, ‘am unhappy because I am obliged to assert my freedom.’ But once he is dead and men are at last enlightened, this earth will be peopled with Czars and lighted up with human glory. Kirilov’s pistol-shot will be the signal for the last revolution. Thus it is not despair that urges him to death but love of his neighbour for his own sake. Before terminating in blood an in describable spiritual adventure, Kirilov makes a remark as old as human suffering: ‘All is well.’

This theme of suicide in Dostoievsky, then, is indeed an absurd theme. Let us merely note before going on that Kirilov reappears in other characters who themselves set in motion additional absurd themes. Stavrogin and Ivan Karamazov try out the absurd truths in practical life. They are the ones liberated by Kirilov’s death. They try their skill at being Czars. Stavrogin leads an ‘ironic’ life, and it is well known in what regard. He arouses hatred around him. And yet the key to the character is found in his farewell letter: ‘I have not been able to detest anything.’ He is a Czar in indifference. Ivan is likewise by refusing to surrender the royal powers of the mind. To those who, like his brother, prove by their lives that it is essential to humiliate oneself in order to believe, he might reply that the condition is shameful. His keyword is ‘Everything is permitted’ , with the appropriate shade of melancholy. Of course, like Nietzsche, the most famous of God’s assassins, he ends in madness. But this is a risk worth running and, faced with such tragic ends, the essential impulse of the absurd mind is to ask: ‘What does that prove?’

Thus the novels, like the Diary, propound the absurd question. They establish logic unto death, exaltation, ‘dreadful’ freedom, the glory of the Czars become human. All is well, everything is permitted and nothing is hateful — these are absurd judgements. But what an amazing creation in which those creatures of fire and ice seem so familiar to us. The passionate world of indifference that rumbles in their heart does not seem at all monstrous to us. We recognize in it our everyday anxieties. And probably no one so much as Dostoievsky has managed to give the absurd world such familiar and tormenting charms.

Yet what is his conclusion? Two quotations will show the complete metaphysical reversal that leads the writer to other revelations. The argument of the one who commits logical suicide having provoked protests from the critics, Dostoievsky in the following instalments of the Diary amplifies his position and concludes thus: ‘If faith in immortality is so necessary to the human being （that without it he comes to the point of killing himself）it must therefore be the nor mal state of humanity. Since this is the case, the immortality of the human soul exists without any doubt.’ Then again in the last pages of his last novel, at the conclusion of that gigantic combat with God, some children ask Aliocha: ‘Karamazov, is it true what religion says, that we shall rise from the dead, that we shall see one another again?’ And Aliocha answers: ‘Certainly, we shall see one another again, we shall joyfully tell one another everything that has happened.’

Thus Kirilov, Stavrogin, and Ivan are defeated. The Brothers Karamazov replies to The Possessed. And it is indeed a conclusion. Aliocha’s case is not ambiguous as is that of Prince Muichkin. III, the latter lives in a perpetual present, tinged with smiles and indifference, and that blissful state might be the eternal life of which the Prince speaks. On the contrary, Aliocha clearly says: ‘We shall meet again.’ There is no longer any question of suicide and of madness. What is the use, for anyone who is sure of immortality and of its joys? Man exchanges his divinity for happiness. ‘We shall joyfully tell one another everything that has happened.’ Thus again, Kirilov’s pistol rang out somewhere in Russia, but the world continued to cherish its blind hopes. Men did not understand ‘that’.

Consequently, it is not an absurd novelist addressing us but an existential novelist. Here, too, the leap is touching and gives its nobility to the art that inspires it. It is a stirring acquiescence, riddled with doubts, uncertain and ardent. Speaking of The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoievsky wrote: ‘The chief question that will be pursued throughout this book is the very one from which I have suffered consciously or unconsciously all life long: the existence of God.’ It is hard to believe that a novel sufficed to transform into joyful certainty the suffering of a lifetime. One commentator[6] correctly pointed out that Dostoievsky is on Ivan’s side and that the affirmative chapters took three months of efforts whereas what he called ‘the blasphemies’ were written in three weeks in a state of excitement. There is not one of his characters who does not have that thorn in the flesh, who does not aggravate it or seek a remedy for it in sensation or immorality.[7] In any case let us remain with this doubt Here is a work which, in a chiaroscuro more gripping than the light of day, permits us to seize man’s struggle against his hopes. Having reached the end, the creator makes his choice against his characters. That contradiction thus allows us to make a distinction. It is not an absurd work that is in volved here but a work that propounds the absurd problem.

Dostoievsky’s reply is humiliation, ‘shame’ according to Stavrogin. An absurd work on the contrary does not provide a reply; that is the whole difference. Let us note this carefully in conclusion: what contradicts the absurd in that work is not its Christian character but rather its announcing a future life. It is possible to be Christian and absurd. There are examples of Christians who do not believe in a future life. In regard to the work of ‘art, it should therefore be possible to define one of the directions of the absurd analysis that could have been anticipated in the preceding pages. It leads to propounding ‘the absurdity of the Gospel’. It throws light upon this idea, fertile in repercussions, that convictions do not prevent incredulity. On the contrary, it is easy to see that the author of The Possessed, familiar with these paths, in conclusion took a quite different way. The surprising reply of the creator to his characters, of Dostoievsky to Kirilov, can indeed be summed up thus: Existence is illusory and it is eternal.

Ephemeral Creation

At this point, I perceive therefore that hope cannot be eluded for ever and that it can beset even those who wanted to be free of it. This is the interest I find in the works discussed up to this point. I could, at least in the realm of creation, list some truly absurd works.[8] But everything must have a beginning. The object of this quest is a certain fidelity. The Church has been so harsh with heretics only because she deemed that there is no worse enemy than a child who has gone astray. But the record of Gnostic effronteries and the persistence of Manichean currents have contributed more to the construction of orthodox dogma than all the prayers. With due allowance, the same is true of the absurd. One recognizes one’s course by discovering the paths that stray from it. At the very conclusion of the absurd reasoning, in one of the attitudes dictated by its logic, it is not a matter of indifference to find hope coming back in under one of its most touching guises. That shows the difficulty of the absurd ascesis. Above all, it shows the necessity of unfailing alermess and thus confirms the general plan of this essay.

But if it is still too early to list absurd works, at least a conclusion can be reached as to the creative attitude, one of those which can complete absurd existence. Art can never be so well served as by a negative thought. Its dark and humiliated proceedings are as necessary to the understanding of a great work as black is to white. To work and create ‘for nothing’ , to sculpture in clay, to know that one’s creation has no future, to see one’s work destroyed in a day while being aware that, fundamentally, this has no more importance than building for centuries — this is the difficult wisdom that absurd thought sanctions. Performing these two tasks simultaneously, negating on the one hand and magnifying on the other, is the way open to the absurd creator. He must give the void its colours.

This leads to a special conception of the work of art. Too often the work of a creator is looked upon as a series of isolated testimonies. Thus artist and man of letters are con fused. A profound thought is in a constant state of becoming; it adopts the experience of a life and assumes its shape. Likewise, a man’s sole creation is strengthened in its successive and multiple aspects: his works. One after another, they complement one another, correct or overtake one another, contradict one another too. If something brings creation to an end, it is not the victorious and illusory cry of the blinded artist: ‘I have said everything’ , but the death of the creator which closes his experience and the book of his genius.

That effort, that superhuman consciousness are not necessarily apparent to the reader. There is no mystery in human creation. Will performs this miracle. But at least there is no true creation without a secret. To be sure, a succession of works can be but a series of approximations of the same thought. But it is possible to conceive of another type of creator proceeding by juxtaposition. Their works may seem to be devoid of inter-relations. To a certain degree, they are contradictory. But viewed all together, they resume their natural grouping. From death, for instance, they derive their definitive significance. They receive their most obvious light from the very life of their author. At the moment of death, the succession of his works is but a collection of failures. But if those failures all have the same resonance, the creator has managed to repeat the image of his own condition, to make the air echo with the sterile secret he possesses.

The effort to dominate is considerable here. But human intelligence is up to much more. It will merely indicate clearly the voluntary aspect of creation. Elsewhere I have brought out the fact that human will had no other purpose than to maintain awareness. But that could not do without discipline. Of all the schools of patience and lucidity, creation is the most effective. It is also the staggering evidence of man’s sole dignity: the dogged revolt against his condition, perseverance in an effort considered sterile. It calls for a daily effort, selfmastery, a precise estimate of the limits of truth, measure and strength. It constitutes an ascesis. All that ‘for nothing’ , in order to repeat and mark time. But perhaps the great work of art has less importance in itself than in the ordeal it demands of a man and the opportunity with which it provides him of overcoming his phantoms and approaching a little closer to his naked reality.

Let there be no mistake in aesthetics. It is not patient inquiry, the unceasing, sterile illustration of a thesis that I am calling for here. Quite the contrary, if I have made myself clearly understood. The thesis-novel, the work that proves, the most hateful of all, is: the one that most often is inspired by a smug thought. You demonstrate the truth you feel sure of possessing. But those are ideas one launches, and ideas are the contrary of thought. Those creators are philosophers, ashamed of themselves. Those I am speaking of or who I imagine are on the contrary lucid thinkers. At a certain point where thought turns back on itself, they raise up the images of their works like the obvious symbols of a limited, mortal, and rebellious thought.

They perhaps prove something. But those proofs are ones that the novelists provide for themselves rather than for the world in general. The essential is that the novelists should triumph in the concrete and that this constitutes their nobility. This wholly carnal triumph has been prepared for them by a thought in which abstract powers have been humiliated. When they are completely so, at the same time the flesh makes the creation shine forth in all its absurd lustre. After all, ironic philosophies produce passionate works.

Any thought that abandons unity glorifies diversity. And diversity is the home of art. The only thought to liberate the mind is that which leaves it alone, certain of its limits and of its impending end. No doctrine tempts it. It awaits the ripening of the work and of life. Detached from it, the work will once more give a barely muffled voice to a soul for ever freed from hope. Or it will give voice to nothing if the creator, tired of his activity, intends to turn away. That is equivalent.

Thus I ask of absurd creation what I required from thought — revolt, freedom, and diversity. Later on it will manifest its utter futility. In that daily effort in which intelligence and passion mingle and delight each other, the absurd man discovers a discipline that will make up the greatest of his strengths. The required diligence, the doggedness and lucidity thus resemble the conqueror’s attitude. To create is likewise to give a shape to one’s fate. For all these characters, their work defines them at least as much as it is defined by them. The actor taught us this: there is no frontier between being and appearing.

Let me repeat. None of all this has any real meaning. On the way to that liberty, there is still a progress to be made. The final effort for these related minds, creator or conqueror, is to manage to free themselves also from their undertakings: succeed in granting that the very work, whether it be conquest, love, or creation, may well not be; consummate thus the utter futility of any individual life. Indeed, that gives them more freedom in the realization of that work, just as becoming aware of the absurdity of life authorized them to plunge into it with every excess.

All that remains is a fate whose outcome alone is fatal. Outside of that single fatality of death, everything, joy or happiness, is liberty. A world remains of which man is the sole master. What bound him was the illusion of another world. The outcome of his thought, ceasing to be renunciatory, flowers in images. It frolics — in myths to be sure — but myths with no other depth than that, of human suffering and, like it, inexhaustible. Not the divine fable that amuses and blinds, but the terrestrial face, gesture, and drama in which are summed up a difficult wisdom and an ephemeral passion.

[1]It is curious to note that the most intellectual kind of painting, the one that tries to reduce reality to its essential elements, is ultimately but a visual delight. All it has kept of the world is its colour. （This is apparent particularly in Léger.）

[2]If you stop to think of it, this explains the worst novels. Almost everybody considers himself capable of thinking and, to a certain degree, whether right or wrong, really does think. Very few, on the contrary, can fancy themselves poets or artists in words. But from the moment when thought won over style, the mob invaded the novel.

That is not such a great peril as is said. The best are led to make greater demands upon themselves. As for those who succumb, they did not deserve to survive.

[3]Makaux’s work, for instance. But it would have been necessary to deal at the same time with the social question which, in fact, cannot be avoided by absurd thought （even though that thought may put forward several solutions, very different from one another）. One must, however, limit oneself.

[4]‘Stavrogin: “Do you believe in eternal life in the other world?” Kirilov: “No, but in eternal life in this world.”’

[5]‘Man simply invented God in order not to kill himself. That is the summary of universal history down to this moment.’

[6]Boris de Schloezer.

[7]Gide’s curious and penetrating remark: almost all Dostoievsky’s heroes are polygamous.

[8]Melville’s Moby Dick, for instance.

The Myth Of Sisyphus

The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labour.

If one believes Homer, Sisyphus was the wisest and most prudent of mortals. According to another tradition, however, he was disposed to practise the profession of highwayman. I see no contradiction in this. Opinions differ as to the reasons why he became the futile labourer of the underworld. To begin with, he is accused of a certain levity in regard to the gods. He stole their secrets. Aegina, the daughter of Aesopus, was carried off by Jupiter. The father was shocked by that disappearance and complained to Sisyphus. He, who knew of the abduction, offered to tell about it on condition that Aesopus would give water to the citadel of Corinth. To the celestial thunderbolts he preferred the benediction of water. He was punished for this in the underworld. Homer tells us also that Sisyphus had put Death in chains. Pluto could not endure the sight of his deserted, silent empire. He dispatched the god of war who liberated Death from the hands of her conqueror.

It is said also that Sisyphus, being near to death, rashly wanted to test his wife’s love. He ordered her to cast his unburied body into the middle of the public square. Sisyphus woke up in the underworld. And there, annoyed by an obedience so contrary to human love, he obtained from Pluto permission to return to earth in order to chastise his wife. But when he had seen again the face of this world, enjoyed water and sun, warm stones and the sea, he no longer wanted to go back to the infernal darkness. Recalls, signs of anger, warnings were of no avail. Many years more, he lived facing the curve of the gulf, the sparkling sea, and the smiles of earth. A decree of the gods was necessary. Mercury came and seized the impudent man by the collar and, snatching him from his joys, led him forcibly back to the underworld where his rock was ready for him.

You have already grasped that Sisyphus is the absurd hero. He is, as much through his passions as through his torture. His scorn of the gods, his hatred of death, and his passion for life won him that unspeakable penalty in which the whole being is exerted towards accomplishing nothing. This is the price that must be paid for the passions of this earth. Nothing is told us about Sisyphus in the underworld. Myths are made for the imagination to breathe life into them. As for this myth, one sees merely the whole effort of a body straining to raise the huge stone, to roll it and push it up a slope a hundred times over; one sees the face screwed up, the cheek tight against the stone, the shoulder bracing the clay-covered mass, the foot wedging it, the fresh start with arms outstretched, the wholly human security of two earth-clotted hands. At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments towards that lower world whence he will have to push it up again towards the summit. He goes back down to the plain.

It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step towards the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks towards the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.

If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious. Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? The workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks and this fate is no less absurd. But it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious. Sisyphus, proletarian of the gods, powerless and rebellious, knows the whole extent of his wretched condition; it is what he thinks of during his descent. The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn.

If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. The word is not too much. Again I fancy Sisyphus returning towards his rock, and the sorrow was in the beginning. When the images of earth cling too tightly to memory, when the call of happiness becomes too insistent, it happens that melancholy rises in man’s heart: this is the rock’s victory, this is the rock itself. The bound less grief is too heavy to bear. These are our nights of Gethsemane. But crushing truths perish from being acknowledged. Thus Oedipus at the outset obeys fate without knowing it. But from the moment he knows, his tragedy begins. Yet at the same moment, blind and desperate, he realizes that the only bond linking him to the world is the cool hand of a girl. Then a tremendous remark tings out: ‘Despite so many ordeals, my advanced age and the nobility of my soul make me conclude that all is well.’ Sophocles’ Oedipus, like Dostoievsky’s Kirilov, thus gives the recipe for the absurd victory. Ancient wisdom confirms modem heroism.

One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness. ‘What! by such narrow ways . . . ?’ There is but one world, however. Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable. It would be a mistake to say that happiness necessarily springs from the absurd discovery. It happens as well that the feeling of the absurd springs from happiness. ‘I conclude that all is well,’ says Oedipus, and that remark is sacred. It echoes in the wild and limited universe of man. It teaches that all is not, has not been, exhausted. It drives out of this world a god who had come into it with dissatisfaction and a preference for futile sufferings. It makes of fate a human matter, which must be settled among men.

All Sisyphus’ silent joy is contained therein. His fate be longs to him. His rock is his thing. Likewise, the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. In the universe suddenly restored to its silence, the myriad wondering little voices of the earth rise up. Unconscious, secret calls, invitations from all the faces, they are the necessary reverse and price of victory. There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The absurd man says yes and his effort will henceforth be un ceasing. If there is a personal fate, there is no higher destiny or at least there is but one which he concludes is inevitable and despicable. For the rest, he knows himself to be the master of his days. At that subtle moment when man glances backward over his life, Sisyphus returning towards his rock, in that slight pivoting, he contemplates that series of unrelated actions which becomes his fate, created by him, combined under his memory’s eye and soon sealed by his death. Thus, convinced of the wholly human origin of all that is human, a blind man eager to see who knows that the night has no end, he is still on the go. The rock is still rolling.

I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one’s burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He, too, concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

Appendix

Hope and The Absurd in the Work of Franz Kafka

The whole art of Kafka consists in forcing the reader to re-read. His endings, or his absence of endings, suggest explanations which, however, are not revealed in clear language but, before they seem justified, require that the story be reread from another point of view. Sometimes there is a double possibility of interpretation, whence appears the necessity for two readings. This is what the author wanted. But it would be wrong to try to interpret everything in Kafka in detail. A symbol is always in general and, however precise its translation, an artist can restore to it only its movement: there is no word for word rendering. Moreover, nothing is harder to understand than a symbolic work. A symbol always transcends the one who makes use of it and makes him say in reality more than he is aware of expressing. In this regard, the surest means of getting hold of it is not to provoke it, to begin the work without a preconceived attitude and not to look for its hidden currents. For Kafka in particular it is fair to agree to his rules, to approach the drama through its externals and the novel through its form.

At first glance and for a casual reader, they are disturbing adventures that carry off quaking and dogged characters into pursuit of problems they never formulate. In The Trial, Joseph K. is accused. But he doesn’t know of what. He is doubtless eager to defend himself, but he doesn’t know why. The lawyers find his case difficult. Meanwhile he does not neglect to love, to eat, or to read his paper. Then he is judged. But the courtroom is very dark. He doesn’t understand much. He merely assumes that he is condemned, but to what, he barely wonders. At times he suspects just the same and he continues living. Sometime later, two well- dressed and polite gentlemen come to get him and invite him to follow them. Most courteously they lead him into a wretched suburb, put his head on a stone and slit his throat. Before dying the condemned man says merely: ‘like a dog’.

You see that it is hard to speak of a symbol in a tale whose most obvious quality just happens to be naturalness. But naturalness is a hard category to understand. There are works in which the event seems: natural to the reader. But there are others （rarer, to be sure）in which the character considers natural what happens to him. By an odd but obvious paradox, the more extraordinary the character’s adventures are, the more noticeable will be the naturalness of the story: it is in proportion to the divergence we feel between the strangeness: of a man’s life and the simplicity with which that man accepts it. It seems that this naturalness is Kafka’s. And precisely, one is well aware what The Trial means. People have spoken of an image of the human condition. To be sure. Yet it is both simpler and more complex. I mean that the significance of the novel is more particular and more personal to Kafka. To a certain degree, he is the one who does the talking, even though it is us he confesses. He lives and he is condemned. He learns this on the first pages of the novel he is pursuing in this world, and if he tries; to cope with this, he nonetheless does so without surprise. He will never show sufficient astonishment at this lack of astonishment. It is by such contradictions that the first signs of the absurd work are recognized. The mind projects into the concrete its: spiritual tragedy. And it can do so solely by means of a perpetual paradox which confers on colours the power to express the void and on daily gestures the strength to translate eternal ambitions.

Likewise, The Castle is perhaps a theology in action, but it is first of all the individual adventure of a soul in quest of its grace, of a man who asks of this world’s objects their royal secret and of women the signs of the god that sleeps in them. Metamorphosis, in turn, certainly represents the horrible imagery of an ethic of lucidity. But it is also the product of that incalculable amazement man feels at being conscious of the beast he becomes effortlessly. In this funda mental ambiguity lies Kafka’s secret. These perpetual oscillations between the natural and the extraordinary, the individual and the universal, the tragic and the everyday, the absurd and the logical, are found throughout his work and give it both its resonance and its meaning. These are the paradoxes that must be enumerated, the contradictions that must be strengthened, in order to understand the absurd work.

A symbol, indeed, assumes two planes, two worlds of ideas and sensations, and a dictionary of correspondences between them. This lexicon is the hardest thing to draw up. But awaking to the two worlds brought face to face is tantamount to getting on the trail of their secret relationship. In Kafka these two worlds are that of everyday life on the one hand, and, on the other, that of supernatural anxiety.[1] It seems that we are witnessing here an interminable exploitation of Nietzsche’s remark: ‘Great problems are in the street.’

There is in the human condition （and this is a common place of all literatures）a basic absurdity as well as an implacable nobility. The two coincide, as is natural. Both of them are represented, let me repeat, in the ridiculous divorce separating our spiritual excesses and the ephemeral joys of the body. The absurd thing is that it should be the soul of this body which it transcends so inordinately. Whoever would like to represent this absurdity must give it life in a series of parallel contrasts. Thus it is that Kafka expresses tragedy by the everyday and the absurd by the logical.

An actor lends more force to a tragic character the more careful he is not to exaggerate it. If he is moderate, the horror he inspires will be immoderate. In this regard Greek tragedy is rich in lessons. In a tragic work fate always makes itself felt better in the guise of logic and naturalness. Oedipus’s fate is announced in advance. It is decided super naturally that he will commit the murder and the incest. The drama’s whole effort is to show the logical system which, from deduction to deduction, will crown the hero’s misfortune. Merely to announce to us that uncommon fate is scarcely horrible, because it is improbable. But if its necessity is demonstrated to us in the framework of everyday life, society, state, familiar emotion, then the horror is hallowed. In that revolt that shakes man and makes him say: ‘That is not possible,’ there is an element of desperate certainty that ‘that’ can be.

This is the whole secret of Greek tragedy or at least of one of its aspects. For there is another which, by a reverse method, would help us to understand Kafka better. The human heart has a tiresome tendency to label as fate only what crushes it. But happiness likewise, in its way, is without reason, since it is inevitable. Modem man, however, takes the credit for it himself, when he doesn’t fail to recognize it. Much could be said, on the contrary, about the privileged fates of Greek tragedy and those favoured in legend who, like Ulysses, in the midst of the worst adventures, are saved from themselves. It was not so easy to return to Ithaca.

What must be remembered in any case is that secret complicity that joins the logical and the everyday to the tragic. This is why Smsa, the hero of Metamorphosis, is a travelling salesman. This is why the only thing that disturbs him in the strange adventure that makes a vermin of him is that his boss will be angry at his absence. Legs and feelers grow out on him, his spine arches up, white spots appear on his belly and — I shall not say that this does not astonish him, for the effect would be spoiled — it causes him a ‘slight annoyance’. The whole art of Kafka is in that distinction. In his central work, The Castle, the details of everyday life stand out and yet in that strange novel in which nothing concludes and everything begins over again, it is the essential adventure of a soul in quest of its grace that is represented. That translation of the problem into action, that coincidence of the general and the particular are recognized likewise in the little artifices that belong to every great creator. In The Trial the hero might have been named Schmidt or Franz Kafka. But he is named Joseph K. He is not Kafka and yet he is Kafka. He is an average European. He is like everybody else. But he is also the entity K. who is the x of this flesh and blood equation.

Likewise if Kafka wants to express the absurd, he will make use of consistency. You know the stow of the crazy man who was fishing in a bathtub. A doctor with ideas as to psychiatric treatments asked him ‘if they were biting’ , to which he received the harsh reply: ‘Of course not, you fool, since this is a bathtub.’ That story belongs to the baroque type. But in it can be grasped quite clearly to what a degree the absurd effect is linked to an excess of logic. Kafka’s world is in truth an indescribable universe in which man allows himself the tormenting luxury of fishing in a bathtub, knowing that nothing will come of it.

Consequently I recognize here a work that is absurd in its principles. As for The Trial, for instance, I can indeed say that it is a complete success. Flesh wins out. Nothing is lacking, neither the unexpressed revolt （but it is what is writing）, nor lucid and mute despair （but it is what is creating）, nor that amazing freedom of manner which the characters of the novel exemplify until their ultimate death.

Yet this world is not so closed as it seems. Into this universe devoid of progress, Kafk a is going to introduce hope in a strange form. In this regard The Trial and The Castle do not follow the same direction. They complement each other. The barely perceptible progression from one to the other represents a tremendous conquest in the realm of evasion. The Trial propounds a problem which The Castle, to a certain degree, solves. The first describes according to a quasiscientific method, and without concluding. The second, to a certain degree, explains. The Trial diagnoses, and The Castle imagines a treatment. But the remedy proposed here does not cure. It merely brings the malady back into normal life. It helps to accept it. In a certain sense （let us think of Kierkegaard）, it makes people cherish it. The Land Surveyor K. cannot imagine another anxiety than the one that is tormenting him. The very people around him become attached to that void and that nameless pain, as if suffering assumed in this case a privileged aspect. ‘How I need you,’ Frieda says to K. ‘How forsaken I feel, since knowing you, when you are not with me.’ This subtle remedy that makes us love what crushes us and makes hope spring up in a world without issue, this sudden ‘leap’ through which everything is changed, is the secret of the existential revolution and of The Castle itself.

Few works are more rigorous in their development than The Castle. K. is named Land Surveyor to the Castle and he arrives in the village. But from the village to the Castle it is impossible to communicate. For hundreds of pages K. persists in seeking his way, makes every advance, uses trickery and expedients, never gets angry, and with disconcerting good-will tries to assume the duties entrusted to him. Each chapter is a new frustration. And also a new beginning. It is not logic but consistent method. The scope of that insistence constitutes the work’s tragic quality. When K. telephones to the Castle, he hears confused, mingled voices, vague laughs, distant invitations. That is enough to feed his hope, like those few signs appearing in summer skies or those evening anticipations which make up our reason for living. Here is found the secret of the melancholy peculiar to Kafka. The same, in truth, that is found in Proust’s work or in the landscape of Plotinus: a nostalgia for a lost paradise. ‘I become very sad,’ says Olga, ‘when Barnabas tells me in the morning that he is going to the Castle: that probably futile trip, that wasted day, that probably empty hope.’ ‘Probably’ — on this implication Kafka gambles his entire work. But nothing avails; the quest of the eternal here is meticulous. And those inspired automata, Kafka’s characters, provide us with a precise image of what we should be if we were deprived of our distractions[2] and utterly consigned to the humiliations of the divine.

In The Castle that surrender to the everyday becomes an ethic. The great hope of K. is to get the Castle to adopt him. Unable to achieve this alone, his whole effort is to deserve this favour by becoming an inhabitant of the village, by losing the status of foreigner that everyone makes him feel. What he wants is an occupation, a home, the life of a healthy, normal man. He can’t stand his madness any longer. He wants to be reasonable. He wants to cast off the peculiar curse that makes him a stranger to the village. The episode of Frieda is significant in this regard. If he takes as his mistress this woman who has known one of the Castle’s officials, this is because of her past. He derives from her something that transcends him — while being aware of what makes her for ever unworthy of the Castle. This makes one think of Kierkegaard’s strange love for Regina Olsen. In certain men, the fire of eternity consuming them is great enough for them to bum in it the very heart of those closest to them. The fatal mistake that consists in giving to God what is not God’s is likewise the subject of this episode of The Castle. But for Kafka it seems that this is not a mistake. It is a doctrine and a ‘leap’. There is nothing that is not God’s.

Even more significant is the fact that the Land Surveyor breaks with Frieda in order to go towards the Barnabas sisters. For the Barnabas family is the only one in the village that is utterly forsaken by the Castle and by the village itself. Amalia, the elder sister, has rejected the shameful pro positions made her by one of the Castle’s officials. The immoral curse that followed has forever cast her out from the love of God. Being incapable of losing one’s honour for God amounts to making oneself unworthy of his grace. You recognize a theme familiar to existential philosophy: truth contrary to morality. At this point things are far-reaching. For the path pursued by Kafka’s hero from Frieda to the Barnabas sisters is the very one that leads from trusting love to the deification of the absurd. Here again Kafka’s thought runs parallel to Kierkegaard. It is not surprising that the ‘Barnabas story’ is placed at the end of the book. The Land Surveyor’s last attempt is to recapture God through what negates him, to recognize him, not according to our categories of goodness and beauty but behind the empty and hideous aspects of his indifference, of his injustice, and of his hatred. That stranger who asks the Castle to adopt him is at the end of his voyage a little more exiled because this time he is unfaithful to himself, forsaking morality, logic, and intellectual truths in order to try to enter, endowed solely with his mad hope, the desert of divine grace.[3]

The word ‘hope’ used here is not ridiculous. On the contrary, the more tragic the condition described by Kafka, the firmer and more aggressive that hope becomes. The more truly absurd The Trial is, the more moving and illegitimate the impassioned ‘leap’ of The Castle seems. But we find here again in a pure state the paradox of existential thought as it is expressed, for instance, by Kierkegaard: ‘Earthly hope must be killed; only then can one be saved by true hope’[4] which can be translated: ‘One has to have written The Trial to undertake The Castle.’

Most of those who have spoken of Kafka have indeed de fined his work as a desperate cry with no recourse left to man. But this calls for review. There is hope and hope. To me the optimistic work of Henri Bordeaux seems peculiarly discouraging. This is because it has nothing for the discriminating. Malraux’s thought on the other hand is always bracing. But in these two cases neither the same hope nor the same despair is at issue. I see merely that the absurd work itself may lead to the infidelity I want to avoid. The work which was but an ineffectual repetition of a sterile condition, a lucid glorification of the ephemeral, becomes here a cradle of illusions. It explains, it gives a shape to hope. The creator can no longer divorce himself from it. It is not the tragic game it was to be. It gives a meaning to the author’s life.

It is strange in any case that works of related inspiration like those of Kafka, Kierkegaard or Chestov, those in short of existential novelists and philosophers completely oriented towards the absurd and its consequences, should in the long run lead to that tremendous cry of hope.

They embrace the God that consumes them. It is through humility that hope enters in. For the absurd of this existence assures them a little more of supernatural reality. If the course of this life leads to God, there is an outcome after all. And the perseverance, the insistence with which Kierkegaard, Chestov and Kafka’s heroes repeat their itineraries are a special warrant of the uplifting power of that cer tainty.[5]

Kafka refuses his god moral nobility, evidence, virtue, coherence, but only the better to fall into his arms. The absurd is recognized, accepted, and man is resigned to it, but from then on we know that it has ceased to be the absurd. Within the limits of the human condition, what greater hope than the hope that allows an escape from that con dition? As I see once more, existential thought in this regard （and contrary to current opinion）is steeped in a vast hope. The very hope which at the time of early Christianity and the spreading of the news inflamed the ancient world. But in that leap that characterizes all existential thought, in that insistence, in that surveying of a divinity devoid of surface, how can one fail to see the mark of a lucidity that repudiates itself? It is merely claimed that this is pride abdicating to save itself. Such a repudiation would be fecund. But this does not change that. The moral of lucidity cannot be diminished in my eyes by calling it sterile like all pride. For a truth also, by its very definition, is sterile. All facts are. In a world where everything is given and nothing is explained, the fecundity of a value or of a metaphysic is a notion devoid of meaning.

In any case, you see here in what tradition of thought Kafka’s work takes its place. It would indeed be intelligent to consider as inevitable the progression from The Trial to The Castle. Joseph K. and the Land Surveyor K. are merely two poles that attract Kafka.[6] I shall speak as he does and say that his work is probably not absurd. But that should not deter us from seeing its nobility and universality. They come from the fact that he managed to represent so fully the everyday passage from hope to grief and from desperate wisdom to intentional blindness. His work is universal （a really absurd work is not universal）to the extent to which it represents the emotionally moving face of man fleeing humanity, deriving from his contradictions reasons for believing, reasons for hoping from his fecund despairs, and calling life his terrifying apprenticeship in death. It is universal because its inspiration is religious. As in all religions, man is freed of the weight of his own life. But if I know that, if I can even admire it, I also know that I am not seeking what is universal but what is true. The two may well not coincide.

This particular view will be better understood if I say that truly hopeless thought just happens to be defined by the opposite criteria and that the tragic work might be the work that, after all future hope is exiled, describes the life of a happy man. The more exciting life is, the more absurd is the idea of losing it. This is perhaps the secret of that proud aridity felt in Nietzsche’s work. In this connection, Nietzsche appears to be the only artist to have derived the extreme consequences of an aesthetic of the absurd, in as much as his final message lies in a sterile and conquering lucidity and an obstinate negation of any supernatural consolation.

The preceding should nevertheless suffice to bring out the capital importance of Kafka in the framework of this essay. Here we are carried to the confines of human thought. In the fullest sense of the word, it can be said that everything in that work is essential. In any case it propounds the absurd problem altogether. If one wants to compare these conclusions with our initial remarks, the content with the form, the secret meaning of The Castle with the natural art in which it is moulded, K.’s passionate, proud quest with the everyday setting against which it takes place, then one will realize what may be its greamess. For if nostalgia is the mark of the human, perhaps no one has given such flesh and volume to these phantoms of regret. But at the same time will be sensed what exceptional nobility the absurd work calls for, which is perhaps not found here. If the nature of art is to bind the general to the particular, ephemeral eternity of a drop of water to the play of its lights, it is even truer to judge the greamess of the absurd writer by the distance he is able to introduce between these two worlds. His secret consists in being able to find the exact point where they meet in their greatest disproportion.

And to tell the truth, this geometrical locus of man and the inhuman is seen everywhere by the pure in heart. If Faust and Don Quixote are eminent creations of art, this is because of the immeasurable nobilities they point out to us with their earthly hands. Yet a moment always comes when the mind negates the truths that those hands can touch. A moment comes when the creation ceases to be taken tragically; it is merely taken seriously. Then man is concerned with hope. But that is not his business. His business is to turn away from subterfuge. Yet this is just what I find at the conclusion of the vehement proceedings Kafka institutes against the whole universe. His unbelievable verdict is this hideous and upsetting world in which the very moles dare to hope.[7]

[1]It is worth noting that the works of Kafka can quite as legitimately be interpreted in the sense of a social criticism （for instance in The Trial）. It is probable, moreover, that there is no need to choose. Both interpretations are good. In absurd terms, as we have seen, revolt against men is also directed against God: great revolutions are always metaphysical.

[2]In The Castle it seems that ‘distractions’ in the Pascalian sense are represented by the assistants who ‘distract’ K. from his anxiety. If Frieda eventually becomes the mistress of one of the assistants, this is because she prefers the stage setting to truth, everyday life to shared anguish.

[3]This is obviously true only of the unfinished version of The Castle that Kafka left us. But it is doubtful that the writer would have destroyed in the last chapters his novel’s unity of tone.

[4]Purity of heart.

[5]The only character without hope in The Castle is Amalia. She is the one with whom the Land Surveyor is most violently contrasted.

[6]On the two aspects of Kafka’s thought, compare ‘In the Penal Colon’ published by the Cahiers du Sud （and in America by Partisan Review— translator’s note）: ‘Guilt [“of man” is understood] is never doubtful’ and a fragment of The Castle （Momus’ report）: ‘The guilt of the Land Surveyor K. is hard to establish.’

[7]What is offered above is obviously an interpretation of Kafka’s work. But it is only fair to add that nothing prevents its being considered, apart from any interpretation, from a purely aesthetic point of view. For instance, B. Groethuysen in his remarkable preface to The Trial limits himself, more wisely than we, to following merely the painful fancies of what he calls, most strikingly, a day dreamer. It is the fate and perhaps the greatness of that work that it offers everything and confirms nothing.

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

记忆之灯

（英汉双语）

［英］约翰·罗斯金　著

刘涵　译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

记忆之灯：英汉对照／（英）罗斯金著；刘涵译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2012.9

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3336-0

Ⅰ．①记…　Ⅱ．①罗…　②刘…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　Ⅳ．①H319.4

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2012）第109878号

www.penguin.com

'The Lamp of Memory' first published in The Seven Lamps of Architecture, 1849

'Cambridge School of Art: Inaugural Address' first published 1858

'Of Kings' Treasuries' first published in Sesame and Lilies: Two Lectures, 1865

'Traffic' first published in The Crown of Wild Olive: Four Lectures on Industry and War in 1866

This collection first published 2008

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版　　次／2013年1月第一版

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ISBN 978–7–5001–3336–0　定价：16.00元

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未经允许，不得擅用。

中国对外翻译出版有限公司与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

观　念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese

Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

目　录

观　念——《伟大的思想》代序

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读

记忆之灯

剑桥艺术学校：开学致辞（1858）

国王的宝藏

交易

The Lamp of Memory

Cambridge School of Art: Inaugural Address (1858)

Of Kings' Treasuries

Traffic

返回总目录

译者导读

约翰·罗斯金（John Ruskin, 1819—1900）是英国维多利亚时代最伟大的艺术及社会评论家。他在知识界的影响力从19世纪后半叶开始一直延续到今天，可谓影响深远，跨越时代。

罗斯金的一生著述甚丰，其作品涵盖了广阔的领域，体裁也多种多样。然而，罗斯金最具影响力的作品大多集中在艺术及社会评论方面。他最为重要的艺术评论大多出自《现代画家》（1843—1960）和《建筑七灯》（1849）两部著作。作为艺术评论家，他的作品改变了维多利亚时代人们对于艺术的认知，同时他还是“哥特复兴”（Gothic Revival）建筑运动以及“前拉斐尔派”（Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood）艺术运动的主要幕后推手。作为社会评论家，他支持改变穷人们的生活窘况，颂扬手工艺劳动的尊严、道德以及美学价值，反对工厂劳动的日益机械化，因为他认为这种劳动既枯燥乏味又毁灭灵魂。由此，罗斯金也成为了19世纪“艺术与工艺运动”（Arts & Crafts Movement）的精神领袖。

此书收录了罗斯金在不同时期的四篇重要作品。它们分别是《记忆之灯》、《剑桥艺术学校：开学致辞（1858）》、《国王的宝藏》，以及《交易》。

《记忆之灯》是出版于1849年的《建筑七灯》中的一篇。罗斯金在书名中以“灯”冠之是为了表明它们是自己所理解的、建筑的七条原则。《记忆之灯》探讨的主要议题是建筑在文化传承方面所应当扮演的角色。罗斯金认为好的建筑应当犹如一座历史的丰碑，向子孙后代永远地传递建造它的那个时代的文化信息。从19世纪60年代起，罗斯金开始大量出席各种讲座及演讲活动。本书所收录的后三篇文章就是他在这一时期的演讲词。在《剑桥艺术学校：开学致辞（1858）》中，罗斯金论述了艺术教育的原则。他认为在大众的、通用的艺术学校里面，学生首先要学会的是观察，是提高鉴赏力，是对艺术的热爱，而非从事艺术创作。《国王的宝藏》最早出现在1865年出版的《芝麻与百合》中，是其中的第一篇。这篇演讲连同第二篇《王后的花园》一起，阐明了男人和女人各自的天性以及所应承担的责任。罗斯金在《国王的宝藏》中重点探讨了建立并资助公共图书馆的意义所在，并且论述了为什么要阅读经典以及如何阅读经典等等重要的议题。《交易》是罗斯金在1864年于布拉福德市政厅所做的演讲。他在演说中集中讨论了品味和道德的关系。他认为品味不是道德的一部分或是道德的表征，而是道德的全部。罗斯金的作品犹如一座巨大的宝库，然而到底能从其中挖掘到什么，则在很大程度上取决于我们读者自身所具备的禀赋。

翻译是件无比艰辛而又孤独的工作，如同一个人在漆黑的夜里行走在漫长而崎岖的道路上。然而所幸的是，在这孤独的夜路之上有一位伟大的思想者与我相伴而行，他就是约翰·罗斯金。他手中擎着那永不熄灭的灯盏，用充满睿智的言语照亮了我前进的路程。就像罗斯金在这本书开始时所说的那样：“在我的一生中，有些时刻值得以特别感激的心情去回味。那时，喜悦异常的丰满，教诲也异常的清澈。”——翻译《记忆之灯》的过程就是这样的时刻。

记忆之灯

在我的一生中，有些时刻值得以特别感激的心情去回味。那时，喜悦异常的丰满，教诲也异常的清澈。那是几年前的一个傍晚，我漫步在流经法国东部汝拉省尚帕尼奥勒村的爱恩河河畔的松林中。这里充满了阿尔卑斯山的庄严，却丝毫没有它的荒凉；这里，大地蕴藏着的巨大能量似乎正要显现，绵延起伏的松岗透露出深沉而高贵的和谐；这里，群山奏出交响乐的第一个音符，不久便抬高了调门，如惊涛般拍散在了阿尔卑斯山的群峰之上。然而群山的力量是有节制的；绵延的、长满牧草的山脊层层叠加，像是来自大海的怒涛，涌过平静的水面，发出长长的叹息。在这广袤的单调中弥漫着深深的柔情。中部山脉的破坏力连同他严肃的表情都不见了。柔软的汝拉牧场没有古老冰川冰刨石塞的侵蚀印记；没有成堆的碎石瓦砾破坏汝拉森林的美丽容颜；也没有苍白的、肮脏的，或是暴怒的河流在她的岩石间粗鲁地撕扯、蜿蜒。清澈的、绿色的溪水在熟悉的河床中流淌，耐心地、一个一个地打着旋涡。在静谧的松树的遮盖下，一簇簇的花朵年复一年地冒出头儿，我不知道这世界上还有什么比它们更快乐。那时正值春天，花团锦簇，争相斗艳；尽管空间足够，它们还是把叶子挤压成了各种奇形的怪状，只为了紧紧地挨在一起。银莲花星星点点，三五成群，如天上的星云一般；酢浆草成群结队，如同五月节向童贞女马利亚致敬的游行队伍一样塞满了石灰岩上黑色的垂直裂缝，它们洁白如雪，边上盘绕着像葡萄树枝蔓一样轻快而可爱的常春藤；一眨眼的工夫，紫罗兰便会喷涌而出，而报春花也在有阳光的地方绽放开来；在较为开阔一点的地方，野豌豆、雏菊、瑞香、宝石蓝色的远志的花蕾以及野草莓的花儿都沉浸在浓重、温暖、琥珀色的地衣那金黄色的温柔乡里了。我走出松林，来到山涧边上：涧水的隆隆轰鸣声从脚下突然冒了上来，与松枝上画眉鸟的鸣唱混合在了一起；山涧的对面是灰色的石灰岩峭壁，一只猎鹰在峭壁的边缘缓缓滑翔，翅膀几乎碰到了岩壁，松树的影子倒映在它闪闪发光的羽毛上；而在它身下数百英尺的地方，绿色的河水正打着旋涡，泛着令人晕眩的点点金光欢快地流淌着，水中的浪花同天上的猎鹰一起飞翔。感受这种孤独和严肃的美丽是不能掺杂任何私心杂念的。我清楚地记得，当自己试图要更为确切地捕捉到这种令人难忘的美丽背后的根源时——比如暂时把它想象成新大陆原始森林的景象，便瞬间感到头脑空白，身体冰凉。花朵顷刻间失去了光彩，河水停止了歌唱，群山变得压抑而荒芜。幽暗森林中的枝干仿佛在沉痛地诉说，诉说它们先前的力量其实是他人的赐予，而不朽的光辉和持续的重生再造则是诞生于它们珍贵的记忆。那些不断开放的花朵和永不停息的河流被人类的忍耐、勇敢和美德的深色所浸染；在夜空的映衬下，黑色群山的峰顶更是受到了人们的膜拜，因为它们向东投下的长长阴影笼罩住了朱克斯的铁墙以及格朗松的四方要塞。

我们应当以最严肃的态度对待建筑，因为她是这种神圣影响的集中体现和守护者。没有了建筑我们可以生存，可以祈祷，却将失去记忆。与一个民族所记载的内容和不朽的大理石所承载的内涵相比，一切历史是多么的冰冷，一切意象又是多么的了无生气！——几块石头的堆砌就会省却我们长篇累牍的含混记述！雄心勃勃的巴别塔的建造者告诉我们，只有两件东西可以征服人类的健忘——诗歌和建筑。而后者在某种意义上包括了前者，而且事实上更为强大，因为它如实地记载了人们生活的全部——人们的所思所感，所创所造，所见所闻。荷马的时代为黑暗所包围，有关他的个性也是众说纷纭。然而伯里克利的时代则清晰得多：毋庸讳言，与古希腊甜美的歌手和士兵历史学家相比，我们从其破碎的雕塑中学到了更多的东西。如果了解历史确有裨益，青史留名又是乐事一件的话（因为这样可以为我们当前的努力注入力量，为现在的坚持提供耐心），那么对于一个民族的建筑来说，我们就肩负着两项责任，而其重要性怎么说也不为过：第一，使当代的建筑彪炳史册；第二，将过去时代的建筑作为最珍贵的遗产加以保护。

就第一项责任来说，记忆确实可以称得上是建筑的第六盏明灯，因为只有具有纪念意义或是不朽的价值，民用和家居建筑才会变得真正完美。之所以如此，是因为带着这样一种观念，建筑会建造得更为牢固；而且建筑装饰会由于其隐喻性和历史性的内涵而显得栩栩如生。

就家居建筑而言，这种观念一定存在着某种局限性，因为无论是人心还是人力都会有所不及。不过我还是认为，某个民族建造房屋仅供一代人居住的做法是罪恶的。在善良人居住的房屋中有一种圣洁，而这种圣洁不是在其废墟上新建住宅就可以获得重生。我认为善良的人们通常会感受到这一点。由于在这幢房子里度过了欢乐和有尊严的一生，他们会在生命即将结束的时候感到悲伤，认为这幢见证，或是参与了他们所有的荣誉、欢乐或是痛苦的房子，这个自己在人世间的居所，连同它所承载的所有有关自己的记录，所有他们曾经爱过、拥有过的物质财富，所有他们曾经留下过的印记，就要在自己葬身墓地之后被扫除干净；人们对它不怀敬意，没有感情，孩子们也认为它一无是处；尽管在教堂里竖立着自己的墓碑，家里却不再有自己温暖的栖身之所；他们所有曾经珍视的东西都被厌弃，曾经为他们提供保护和慰藉的房子被夷为平地。我认为一位善良的人会对此感到恐惧；更进一步来说，一位善良的儿子，一位高贵的子嗣，会因为如此地对待他父亲的房子而感到恐惧。我认为，如果人们真的像人一样地活着，那么他们的房子就会成为一座座庙宇——我们不敢对它们加以伤害，而居住其中会使我们变得神圣；如果每个人只是为了自己建造房屋，为了满足他自己的，那一点点的，改变生活的需求的话，那么他们的亲情必定会奇怪地瓦解，对家庭的赐予和父母的教诲则会莫名其妙地知恩不报，莫名地意识到自己背叛了父辈的荣誉，或者自己的生命不足以使这幢房子对于孩子们来说成为神圣之所。我看到可怜的石灰和黏土的凝固物正如霉菌一样从我们首都周边的，受尽蹂躏的原野上迅速生长；我看到用木板和假冒石材建成的，如甲壳一样的建筑物，它们形体单薄、摇摇欲坠、毫无根基；我看到一排排阴郁的、千篇一律的小房子，它们彼此雷同却又毫无关联，形单影只却又似曾相识。看着它们，我感觉到的不仅仅是憎恨一瞥后淡漠的厌恶，不仅仅是对被玷污了的景色的痛惜，而且还痛苦地预感到，当我们这个民族的伟大的根系松散地扎根在这片土壤的时候，它们一定已经深度地溃烂了；那些让人丧气，令人羞愧的房屋显示出巨大而且不断蔓延的，普遍的不满情绪。这些房子告诉我们，每个人的居住目标都定在了比他们当前更好的自然环境当中，每个人过去的生活都成为了嘲笑的对象；人们都希望建造新房离开旧居，希望忘却过往的岁月；人们不再能感觉到家庭所带来的舒适、和平以及信仰；挣扎的、不安的人们所居住的拥挤的房子与阿拉伯人或是吉卜赛人的帐篷的唯一区别就是，它们不够健康敞亮，不能随心所欲地搬来搬去；人们牺牲了自由却未能换来安宁，牺牲了稳定却未能换来变动所带来的奢华。

这一罪恶并非微不足道，并非影响有限；它是带来其他错误和厄运的不祥之兆、传染之源和孕育的温床。当人们不再爱家，不再尊敬这个栖身之所，就表明他们已经羞辱了它，并且从未承认过基督教信仰中真正的普世价值。事实上，真正超越异教徒偶像崇拜的正是这一价值，而并非一颗虔诚之心。我们的上帝不仅仅活在天堂，还活在家中；他在每个人的居所里都有一座圣坛；所以当我们轻慢地搬动圣坛，倒掉灰烬的时候，就要多加小心了。一个民族的家居建筑要如何建造，就其耐久性和完整性来说，与单纯的视觉愉悦，知性的骄傲或是文雅而挑剔的想象力毫不相干。它是一种道德责任，一旦缺失就要受到惩罚，因为如何对待建筑取决于微妙而平衡的责任心——一种仔细、耐心、喜爱和坚持到底的决心；一种希望建筑能够跨越一般的国家革命的时期或是整个的区域利益转换的时期的观念。这是最起码的；但是，如果可能的话，人们最好把建造房屋提升到终身事业的高度，这一高度是最初的条件而不是最终的成就；人们建造房屋要尽力而为，使它屹立不倒；要通过房子给子孙后代展示自己的过去以及生活的历练。这样的房子建好后，我们就拥有了真正的家居建筑，它是所有其他方面要求的基础。真正的家居建筑，无论大房子还是小房子，都会一视同仁、考虑周到；真正的家居建筑会赋予世俗环境下的狭小空间以尊严，而人们正是依赖这种尊严才能够安居乐业。

我注意到这种光荣、骄傲、平和的泰然自若，这种安居乐业的永恒智慧，很有可能就是所有时代中最伟大智慧的主要源泉之一，而且毫无疑问，它们是古代意大利和法国伟大建筑的最重要源头。时至今日，这两个国家中最美丽的城市所吸引人们的，不是其孤立存在的，富丽堂皇的宫殿，而是它们在辉煌时期遗留下的，珍贵而优雅的房屋装饰，即便这些房屋小之又小。威尼斯最为精美的建筑是位于其大运河起始地段的一幢小房子。这幢房子上下共三层，二层三扇窗户，三层两扇。许多最为精美的建筑都位于较为狭窄的运河两岸，面积并不比这座大。意大利北部最为有趣的十五世纪的建筑中有这样一幢小房子，它并不临街，位于维琴察市场的后面；它始建于1481年，外墙上镌刻着这样的铭文：Il. n'est. rose. sans. épine.——它是无刺的玫瑰；这幢房屋同样上下三层，每层三扇窗户，窗户之间是华丽的花叶装饰；中间阳台的下面起支撑作用的是展开双翅的雄鹰的造型，两边的阳台下面则支撑的是站立在丰饶角上的，长翅膀的狮身鹫首兽。认为房子建得好则必须建得大完全是现代人的想法，这种观念与认为绘画中的人物必须比真实生活中的人物大才会让这幅画具有历史感一样，如出一辙。

我希望普通住宅建得坚固耐久，赏心悦目；里里外外都让人倍感愉悦；至于房屋之间的风格和样式要近似到何种程度，我会在其他标题下另行讨论；但是无论如何，房屋之间要存在差异，而这种差异要能适应并表现出每个人的性格和职业特点，以及他部分的个人历史。我认为，房屋的首建者拥有这项权利，并且应当受到后代的尊重；房屋建造中要预留一些未经雕琢的石材，以便日后在上面记录下房屋主人的生平和房屋的变迁，如此一来，这一居所便具有了纪念碑的性质，进而演化成为更加系统的说教。这一良好的风俗古已有之，而现如今仍有一些瑞士人和德国人保留了这一传统，作为对于上帝恩赐的答谢，因为正是上帝允许自己建造并拥有了这样一处安静的栖身之所。下面这些镌刻在一幢乡间别墅外墙上的甜美文字正可以作为本段的结束语。这幢别墅建成不久，位于格林德瓦村和下游的冰川之间，为绿色的牧场所环抱：——

"Mit herzlichem Vertrauen

怀着真诚的信仰

Hat Johannes Mooter und Maria Rubi

约翰内斯·莫特和玛利·露比

Dieses Haus bauen lassen.

建造了这栋房子。

Der liebe Gott woll uns bewahren

仁慈的上帝保佑我们

Vor allem Unglück und Gefahren,

免于不幸和危险，

Und es in Segen lassen stehn

并且祝福我们

Auf der Reise durch diese Jammerzeit

经过悲伤的旅途

Nach dem himmlischen Paradiese,

来到美好的天国，

Wo alle Fromrnen wohnen,

所有虔诚的信徒都齐聚于此，

Da wird Gott sie belohnen

因为上帝将会奖赏他们

Mit der Friedenskrone

和平的冠冕

Zu alle Ewigkeit.

直到永远。”

公共建筑传承历史的作用应当更为明确。哥特式建筑的优点之一就是，——我所谓的“哥特式”是与其古典含义相较而言最为广义的含义，——它记录的丰富性几乎无穷无尽。哥特式建筑细微和繁复的雕刻装饰为所有应当为人所知的民族情感或是成就提供了表达的方式，这种表达可能是象征性的，也可能是直白的。事实上，装饰本身并不足以表达如此崇高的特性；即便是最富思想性的历史时期的装饰也会给想象留下很大的，自由发挥的空间，否则就不得不在装饰中重复地使用代表民族风貌或象征的符号。然而，即使仅仅在表面的装饰物中放弃哥特式建筑精神所独具的多样性与力量也是不明智的；在其他重要的建筑构件方面更是如此——例如圆柱的柱头或凸饰，束带层，以及为大家所公认的浅浮雕等。最粗陋的，能够讲述一个故事或是记录下一个事实的作品也要胜过最富丽堂皇却言之无物的装饰。伟大的城市建筑上所有的装饰物都应当传达某种智慧的思考。对于历史的真实再现在现代社会遇到了困难，这种困难相当讨厌却挥之不去；这就是难以驾驭的服饰：然而，通过足够大胆和富于想象力的处理以及对于象征符号的坦率的使用，就可以克服所有这些困难；这恐怕不仅仅可以使得雕塑本身获得满意的效果，而且可以使得它在整个建筑作品的所有构成要件中成为伟大并且富于表现力的一分子。以威尼斯道奇宫的柱头装饰为例。按说历史应当交由宫廷画师去表现，然而道奇宫拱廊的每颗柱头却都被赋予了含义。紧挨大门的，作为整个宫殿基石的那根大柱头象征着“抽象的公正”；上面是一尊“所罗门的裁决”的雕塑，其服务于装饰性目的的处理方式令人赞叹。如果整个雕塑都是由这些人物组成，那么他们就会中断柱子的角线，削弱它的力量；于是在这些人物中间便升起一根粗大的，带有棱纹的树干（事实上它与这些人物毫不相干，位于刽子手和求情的母亲之间），起到支撑并延续角柱的作用，而上面的树叶则荫蔽并装点着整个雕塑。下端的柱头在其叶饰的包围中是一位端坐王位的正义的化身——罗马皇帝图拉真，他正在为一个寡妇讨回公道，此外还有亚里士多德，以及一两个其他的，因为破损而难以分辨的人物。旁边的另一些柱头按照顺序依次代表各种美德和恶行，象征了对于民族和平和强盛的保护或是破坏。其中最后一根柱头代表了信仰，上面镌刻着“Fides optima in Deo est”——真理与上帝同在。柱头的另一侧是一个人在膜拜太阳。之后的一两根柱头上面梦幻般地装饰了鸟儿的图样，接下来是一系列柱头，描绘了各色水果、民族服饰以及来自威尼斯治下的各国的动物。

现在先不谈更为重要的公共建筑，我们不妨想象一下以历史的和象征性的雕塑装饰自己在印度的房屋：首先房子要建得牢固；然后雕刻上反映我们在印度的战争的浮雕，再辅之以具有东方韵味的叶饰或是镶嵌上东方的宝石；接下来，在更为重要的装饰雕塑中展现印度的风土人情，并且强调地表现出印度教崇拜中的诸神灵对于十字架的臣服。这样一件作品难道不胜过一千本历史书吗？然而，如果我们不具备进行如此装饰所必需的创造力，或是我们不乐意像欧陆诸民族一样喜欢谈论自己，即便是以大理石代言的话（这可能是我们为自己不善此道所能找到的最为高尚的托辞），那么至少在建筑物的耐久性方面我们仍然责无旁贷。由于这一问题与对于各种装饰方式的选择密切相关，所以有必要进一步地探讨。

人类的善意和决心很少能够超越自己这一代人而恩泽后世。他们也许指望着后辈侧耳倾听，专心致志，也许为了博得他们的赞誉而操劳：他们可能盼望着后辈承认那些未被承认的美德，并且要求他们对于现行的错误还以公道。但是所有这一切纯属出于自私的目的，丝毫没有考虑或是照顾到后辈的利益——我们欣然煽动他们对我们阿谀奉承，并且高兴地利用他们的权威支持我们当下颇具争议的诉求。为了子孙后代牺牲自我，为了还未出生的债主厉行节约，为了后人乘凉而栽树，或是为了将来的人们能居住而兴建城市，我认为所有这些想法都从未真正地成为被人们所公认的，努力工作的动机。但是，这并不是说我们可以免除这些职责；除非我们人生在世的用处不仅仅惠及同伴还能泽被后世，否则我们的存在便难以为继。上帝已经赐予了我们生活的土地；这是一笔巨大的遗产。它不仅仅属于我们，而且属于我们的子孙后辈，以及名字已经出现在《创世记》当中的先人们；我们没有权利，无论是通过作为或是不作为，使他们蒙受不必要的惩罚，或是剥夺他们应当获得的，我们有权力传承下去的利益。上帝为人类劳动指定的条件之一就是，果实的丰满程度与播种和收获之间的时间成正比；因此通常来说，我们将目标锁定得越远就越不会盼望着亲眼目睹自己的劳动果实，而我们所获取的成功就越是广泛和丰富。人类并不能像使后辈受益那样，使同辈获得好处；在所有发出人类声音的布道坛中，坟墓的发声最有说服力。

考虑将来并不意味着给当前带来损失。相反，人类的一举一动都会因为未雨绸缪而变得更为可敬、优雅和壮丽。在所有的品质当中，远见，平静的和自信的耐心将人与人区分开来，使得某些人更亲近上帝；没有什么行为或艺术不能用这一方法来验证其高贵。因此，当我们建造房屋的时候，要抱着使其屹立万代的想法。不要让建筑仅仅满足于当下的欢愉和使用；要让它成为我们子孙后代藉以感谢我们的作品。当我们一层层地堆砌石头的时候，要想一想，正是因为我们的双手触摸过它们，所以总有一天这些石头会被奉为神明；总有一天，当人们看到这幢建筑，这一劳动的结晶时会说，“看，这就是我的祖上为我们修建的。”的确，一幢建筑最耀眼的光辉不是来自它的石头，也不是来自装饰它的黄金。它的光辉之处在于其年龄，在于其丰富而深刻的内涵，其严肃的外表，神秘的同情心，以及，我们在其墙垣上感到的，一直以来被涌动的人性浪潮所不断冲刷的赞许或是谴责。建筑见证了历史的变迁，静静地与其他稍纵即逝的事物形成了对照。通过季节交替、时代流转，王朝的衰落和肇始，变换的沧海和桑田，建筑凭借其优美的造像在一个跨越古今的时代里获得了力量，将被遗忘的和即将来临的世纪连接在一起，并且，正如它聚集了人们的共通情感一样，部分地形成了民族身份的认同。正是在那金色的时间斑点上，我们要寻找真正的光明，色彩以及建筑的可贵之处；只有当一幢建筑获得了这种特点，博得了如此声誉，因人们的功绩而变得神圣，其墙垣见证了痛苦，其立柱在死亡的幽灵中屹立，它的存在才会比周围自然界的物体更为长久，才会像语言和生命一样鲜活起来……

我们不再讨论修复的问题了。这种事从始至终就是一句谎言。正如你可以将尸体做成标本一样，你也可以将一幢建筑制成模型，就像标本里保留有骨架一样，你的模型里面也可能会有旧墙的外壳，但是这样做的优点我既看不到，也不关心：然而旧建筑却毁掉了，这样做比它坍塌成一堆瓦砾，或是化成一坨烂泥还要来得更为彻底和无情：与重建的米兰相比，荒凉的尼尼微能够给予我们的更多。但是，据说，有的时候确实有修复的必要！没错。请仔细审视一下这种必要，按照它自身的逻辑理解一下。其实这是一种摧毁的必要。你可以接受这种摧毁的必要，将整幢建筑推倒，把石头扔到被遗忘的角落里，如果你愿意的话，将它们敲成铺路的碎石，制成盖房的灰浆；但是要诚实地做这件事，不要在它们的旧址上重建一处谎言取而代之。如果在此种必要来临之前仔细研究一下，或许就可以规避。近代的原则（我相信这一原则，至少在法国，被泥瓦匠们系统地加以贯彻，例如当地的市政官员为了给流浪汉们提供工作便把圣旺教堂推倒重建）就是首先对这些建筑不闻不问，然后对其加以修复。保护好你们的纪念碑吧，那样就不需要对它们进行修复。请及时地在房顶上放几块铅板，及时地清理排水槽中的落叶和枝条，这样就会使得房顶和墙壁免于毁坏。请诚惶诚恐地照看一幢老建筑，尽可能地保护它，不惜一切代价地使它免于破损。要像清点皇冠上的珠宝一样清点老建筑的石头；像对待被围困的城市的城门一样，派人看守；在松动的地方用铁箍加以固定；在下垂的地方用木料加以支撑；不要管辅助措施是否好看：拄拐杖总比没有腿强；并且要小心翼翼地、虔诚地、持续地做这件事，那么数代人之后的人们就仍然可以在它的庇护下走完一生。建筑的末日终会来临；但是要让它来得光明正大，不要让令人汗颜的、假冒的赝品剥夺它履行葬礼的职责，从而唤醒人们的记忆。

对于更为荒唐和无知的破坏就是说了也白说；我的话不会传到那些人的耳朵里[1]，然而，不管他们听到与否，我都要说出真理，这就是，我们是否应当保护古旧建筑并不涉及自身利益或是情感因素。无论怎样我们都没有权利碰触它们。它们不属于我们。它们部分地属于其修建者，部分地属于我们的后代。故去的人仍然对它们拥有权利：他们为此而劳作，并且试图通过这些建筑永远地传达诸如对于功绩的表彰，宗教情感的传递，或是其他什么信息，这些我们都无权抹杀。我们自己修建的建筑可以自由地摧毁；但是对于其他人付出了力量、财富和生命才得以完成的建筑，其权利并不会因为他们的故去而丧失；对于他们留下的建筑的使用权并不仅仅属于我们。它属于他们所有的后代。我们为了当下的便利就将这样的建筑推倒，而此后可能引起千百万人的悲痛，给他们带来伤害。我们无权制造这样的悲伤和损失。阿夫朗什大教堂是属于我们这些悲伤的，在它的地基上徘徊的人，还是属于那些将它摧毁的暴民们呢？无论什么建筑都不属于那些对它们施暴的人。他们现在是暴民，而且一直是；无论他们是出于一时激愤，还是出于蓄意的破坏；无论他们是人数众多，还是身居要职；毫无缘由地毁坏东西的人就是暴民，而建筑总是被毫无缘由地毁坏。一幢漂亮的建筑一定无愧于它所占据的土地，并且一直如此，除非中部非洲和美洲拥挤得像英格兰的米德尔塞克斯郡那样：无论出于怎样的因由，这种毁坏都是站不住脚的。也有一种情况可视为正当，这就是当这个地方，无论过去还是将来——当然不是充满躁动和渴求的现在，都被过度地占用了。自然的静谧正逐渐地离我们远去；成千上万的人们的生活中充斥了无休无止的狂热。而曾几何时，与他们漫长的旅途相伴的是寂静的天空和沉睡的大地；这个国家的脉搏正在剧烈地跳动，沿着钢铁的血脉传遍它的机体，每时每刻都变得更为炙热，更为迅速。所有的活力都通过律动的血管集中到了中心城市；走过狭窄的桥梁，对如绿色海洋一般的乡村视而不见，我们被涌动的人潮推向了城市的大门。在城市中，唯一能够替代森林和原野的，就是来自古代建筑的影响力。不要为了整齐的广场，围了篱笆或是种了树的人行道，抑或是漂亮的街道和宽敞的码头，等等这些，而抛弃古代建筑，因为所有这些都不能给你的城市带来骄傲。把这些留给大众吧；但要记住在不安的墙垣的环绕中确实有一些人，他们会要求到其他的地方走一走；会要求一些不同的形式一饱眼福：就像但丁，他经常会坐在一个夕阳照得到的地方，欣赏佛罗伦萨大教堂的穹顶在深邃的天空中勾画出的轮廓线，再比如皇宫的主人们，他们每天会透过宫殿房间的窗子眺望自己先辈的安息之地——维罗纳昏暗街道的交会之处。

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[1] 肯定不会！——从来没有听说过有谁比我的废话还要多，有谁比我更乐意蹚浑水；我认为，结尾的这一段是第六章中最好的，也是整本书中最好的一段文字，但同时也是最徒劳无益的。

剑桥艺术学校：开学致辞（1858）

我想有兴趣为劳工建立一所艺术学校的人们大体上可以分为两类。第一类，是那些主要是想让劳工们变得更快乐、更聪明、状况更好的人们；第二类，是那些想让劳工们生产出更好、更具价值的产品的人们。当然，这两个目标可以并行不悖；不过，我们更关注的是达到这两个目标的动机是什么，因为我们完成目标所需要的精神实质有着很大的不同。我曾经说过，这一不同足可以将所有如此计划的推动者分成两类：一类人的中心目的为慈善，一类人的中心目的为商业；一类人希望劳工自发地获取更多的知识，另一类人则希望劳工能为我们生产出更具价值的商品，以便能与其他国家进行竞争。

这种动机的不同一定会导致工作方法的差别。慈善家们关注的不仅仅是工匠，而且是广义上的劳动者。通过给予劳动者新的娱乐方式和新的思想，慈善家们希望尽一切可能改善他们的习惯，增进整个劳动群体的幸福感：一所目标如此宽泛而且有些模糊的学校所采取的艺术教育原则，是，而且应当是，与那些仅在自己行业内对工匠进行特殊培养的学校所采取的原则大为不同。我认为这种差异并没有引起我们足够的注意，或是在办学计划当中予以考虑。我觉得，迄今为止，我们一直模糊地认为绘画艺术，从某种程度上说，可以以一种普遍的方式教给所有的人，并且使他们都受益；而且之后的每一班技工都可以将这种普遍的知识，根据要求应用于自己的行业。然而，情况并非如此。一位木雕师，根据自己的职业，与一位瓷器画师学习绘画的方式会有很大的不同，宝石匠与铁匠也同样有这样的差别。一定要引导他们在各自不同的作品当中，以自然的形式呈现出不同的特点。教一位铁匠观察桃子上的绒毛是没有用的，同样，教给一位木雕师如何制造朦胧的效果也是没用的。就他们各自的领域而言，这些东西只会白白地占据他们的大脑，而他们则不能集中力量，清楚明白地追求，在他们所能利用的材质上可以表现出来的艺术特质。

现在，我认为，要在单独的一所学校里面，传授给学生各个行业特定的艺术原则是根本不可能的。这种特定的艺术原则只有通过在某种特定的工作中的多年的工作经验才能够获得。每一种材料的力量，对它进行处理时的诸多困难等，与其说是教会的不如说是凭经验获得的；只有通过不断的接触和熔炉旁边持续的试验，金匠才会发现控制黄金的办法，玻璃工才会知道如何摆弄水晶；只有通过观察以及在本行业的师傅实际操作的时候打下手，学徒们才会学会高效操作的秘诀，或是认识到原有设计的真正局限之处。因此我认为，在类似这所刚刚建立的学校中，应当放弃所有针对特定行业的教学计划，因为要使这样的教学发挥效用，就必须具备相应的材料，便利设施，以及师傅的实践经验，而这些我们都不具备。所有特定的艺术教学一定要在为其行业专门建立的学校中实施：当我们的技工对这些事情更为明悉之后，正如我在有关艺术的政治经济学的讲座中所说过的一样，以一种积极的和务实的形式建立各个行业的同业公会就是完全必要的了。同业公会的目的是为了搞清楚适合他们自己行业的艺术原则，要针对各种材料和新发明的程序方法做试验，而且要教导它们行业内的学徒。另外还有很多其他的功能我不能在此一一论述。我们不能期望，我重复一遍，目前在这样一所学校里实现这一切：不放弃这样的期望，我们就不会得到满意的结果；而且我们要致力于教给技工们，不管他是干什么的——是农户的雇工或是厂商的工人，是机修工、发明家、店员、水手、或是农夫——尽我们的一切可能，教给他们唯一的，也是同样的东西：观察。这并非无足轻重，观察可能是所有要教给学生的最为重要的东西。教给你阅读——这有什么用，如果你不知道所读的是真还是假？教给你写或是说——说有什么用，如果你无话可说？教给你如何思考——不，会思考又有什么用，如果你没有什么好思考的？但是教给你去观察，就等于同时让你懂得了如何正确地使用语言和进行思考。在表达对于光明的渴望时，祈祷和赞美诗的常见套话堕落成了单调乏味的隐喻，模糊地扭曲成为其他替代的语言，——先是借助拉丁文解释；然后用英文阐明；接着又用拉丁文答疑解惑；再用英文加以澄清；再后来又借助光束、光线、太阳、恒星、灯盏等来表达，直到有时我们希望，至少从宗教的角度来看，根本就不存在光明或是黑暗这类词语。只有当此时人们才模糊地认识到观察的重要性。尽管如此，使得人们忍受这种无休止的纠缠的主要动因是真实存在的；不同的是人们最最需要的东西不是光明而是观察。如果你不知道如何使用光那么拥有光的多少就没有意义。它只会骚扰而不会帮助你的眼睛。另外，在这个世界上，我们经常想要在黑暗中看到东西——这是所有人的天赋权利；——无论是通过什么样的光我们都想看到事物本来的样子。我保证，如果我们可以得到一点点，哪怕只一点点就好，《天方夜谭》当中苦行僧人的油膏，用以展示给我们世界的真相而不是世上的财宝的话，不久我们就会改变这个世界。

然而，不管这些东西正确与否，毫无疑问，在这样一所学校里，我们的当务之急是培养学生学会观察而不是学会动手；尽量让学生清楚而真实地观察到自然的物体对于他们来说大有裨益。我们不应该过分追求学生再现这些物体的能力。这种能力，可以或多或少地通过练习获得，而这种练习对于观察的精确性而言毫无助益；而且反之亦然，观察的精确性也可以通过练习获得，而这种练习同样也无助于提高学生再现物体的能力。例如，花很长的时间练习点染单一的色调对于绘画能力很有帮助；然而这种手法的练习对于培养学生确定某个物体的真正色调却没有丝毫的帮助。仅仅用一个小时的时间，通过精心的指导和恰当的修改，学生就会更为透彻地了解色彩的运用，而且会获得对于在绘画中所描摹事物的更敏锐的感知。在练习中，他擦来抹去，使色彩变明再变暗，用笔刮擦然后涂抹，耐心地、努力地与色彩运用的要求保持一致，尽管这样做可能会毁掉整张画或是让它完全不像样。当然，对于老师和学生而言，有一点很有诱惑力，这就是要尽力获得看得到的结果——在实际绘画中表现出美丽的，可信的或是有卖点的东西：但是我见到过的学校越多就越是有理由质疑那些产生出太多浮华而完整的学生作品的学校。我们仔细检查一下就会发现，一件浮华的作品往往是遵照某种约定俗成的规则完成的，而学生对这些规则盲目地遵照执行却并不知其所以然；他的作品是对真相的再现，而绘画的作者并未亲身观察到这一真相；此类画作的创作手法单调乏味，死气沉沉；它们的明暗处理似是而非、中规中矩，却又漏洞百出。如果学生仅仅学会了各种绘画的技巧，那么他的画作中就一定充斥了谬误和各种问题。所以，建立一所真正大众的，或是通用的艺术学校是非常必要的。在这所学校里，老师们不会试图掩盖这种谬误或是容忍它发生，相反会让学生利用时间获取最为宝贵的理解和心灵的感悟，而不是手上的技巧。

各位请注意，除非你能全身心地投入其中，否则绘画或是制图过程本身就会变得毫无价值。一位爱好者或是工匠的绘画——只要他不是艺术家，就没有什么价值。这样一幅作品作为纪念品、礼物或是记录事实的手段可能是弥足珍贵的；然而作为艺术品，爱好者的画作通常毫无价值；而我们的重要目标之一就是要让学生们明白并且感受到这一点，进而防止他们试图将自己本来毫无价值的作品，通过某种肤浅的、虚伪的、抓人眼球的、骗人钱财的方式装扮得像一幅真正好的作品。

因此，对于那些来自上流社会的学生，我们的主要职责就是使得他们成为好的艺术品鉴人而非艺术家；因为即便是给我一个月，而非一个小时的时间，来给你们讲解我们国内上流社会和中产阶级对于艺术的高明的品鉴能力的缺乏状况的林林总总，也是不可能的。这不是说这种品鉴能力没有手上的训练就可以获得：没有哪个不会画画的人对绘画会有透彻的鉴赏力；而是仅仅应当把绘画作为一种能使得他专注于眼前的艺术品的微妙之处的方式，或是使得他能够记录下必要的自然真相并与之相较的方式。而且我认为对于呈现给他的艺术品要进行严格的筛选。研究一位大师直至理解他为止，要胜过对于一千个人表面上的熟悉：批评的力量并不在于你知道多少画家的名字或是创作方式，而在于你是否能够洞悉几位画家的卓越之处。

相反，如果我们的教学更为明显地倾向于操作，那么我们就没有必要费力地提升学生的鉴赏能力。在诸多现存的艺术形式当中，学生知道的越少越好。我们应当主要培养他们对于自然的敏感性；如果可能的话，甚至要通过某种程度上对于他们的鉴赏力不利的方式发展他们的想象力。我们宁可学生的作品粗浅清晰，也不要完美无瑕；宁可欢快愉悦，也不要谨小慎微。

顺着这一思路，我们开始讨论第二个问题，也就是有关商业的问题；就是说，在工匠们接受了训练之后，如何才能让他们创作出最好、最珍贵的作品，以使我们能与其他国家展开竞争，或是在我们自己国内开拓出新的商业领域。

可能我们很多人都认为，足够的学校教育就可以达到这一目的；足够多的讲座可以达到这一目的；到国外取经学习可以达到这一目的；或是耐心、时间、金钱以及美好的愿望可以达到这一目的。呜呼，不幸的是，上面这些中没有一项，或是所有这些方面都加起来，也不会达到这一目的。如果你需要真正好的作品，比如在全世界得到认可的作品，那么途径就只有一条，而且并非捷径。你可能会为达此目的设立悬赏——但是你会发现悬赏其实并不管用。你可能会派人学习相反的风格样式——但是你会发现风格样式并不是关键所在。你可能会在我们王国范围内的每所学校里宣讲艺术的原则——而你会发现依照这些原则也不能达此目的。你可能会耐心地等待时代的进步——而你会发现艺术其实并不会随时代而变迁。或是，你可能会不耐烦地利用当代的发明促其形成——而你会发现无论是螺丝钉还是明轮翼都不会将艺术的战车推向前进。没有什么方法可以获得好的艺术品，我重复一遍，只有一条——最简单同时也最困难——享受艺术。查看一下各个民族的历史，你就会发现这一伟大的事实清楚明白地写在上面——只有享受艺术的民族才能产生好的艺术品；他们对待艺术就像对待面包一样，以其充饥；就像对待阳光一样，沐浴其中；他们为之欢呼雀跃，为之手舞足蹈；他们为之争吵，为之战斗，为之忍饥挨饿；事实上，他们对待艺术的态度同我们完全相反——我们拿艺术卖钱，他们则葆有艺术的永恒价值。

对于我们这样一个商业民族来说这确实是一种严重的困难。我们从事这一行业的主要动机本身使得这一行业变得不可能。要使艺术品畅销的首要和绝对的条件是生产它而不是为了销售；相反，则是下定决心，一旦拥有就什么价格都不卖。要努力使得你们的艺术品广受欢迎而且物美价廉——对于国外的市场而言是一件漂亮的商品；这样你们就会得到更好的回报。但是请切记，制作艺术品时只要自己感到愉悦就好，甚至于要下定决心不去讨好其他任何人；接下来你立刻就会发现所有的人都喜欢它。请你注意，这样做存在一个难以逾越的困难：我们为愉悦自己而生产，然而自身却不懂得愉悦。举一个最简单的例子，我们都能理解的，在服装艺术方面。近来我们在丝绸服饰的样式方面大吵大闹，要与法国里昂竞争，要将伦敦打造成巴黎。没错，我们可以一直这样尝试：但只要我们并不是真的喜欢丝绸服饰的样式，就永远都不会有所斩获。而事实上我们确实不喜欢。当然，所有的女士都希望自己的裙子合身而且漂亮；但是我却没有发现有谁，纯粹是出于对于丝绸服饰本身的喜爱而欣赏其美丽；检测有无这种欣赏的方法就是要看，她们是否希望该服饰穿在别人身上也同样的合身、好看。穿着漂亮所带来的快乐，甚至于是看到其他人穿着漂亮而感到的快乐——我猜想在座的听众一定是如此的无私——无论这种快乐是大是小，与美丽所带来的愉悦，与丝绸的褶皱与颜色的华丽和优雅所带来的愉悦是大为不同的。我刚刚获得了一条确凿的证据，证明现代人的这种感觉有多么欠缺。为了研究保罗·委罗内塞的一幅作品，夏天的时候我在都灵住了一段时间。他的这幅画描绘了示巴女王会见所罗门王的故事。画中最显著的特点之一就是丝质服饰的富丽堂皇：特别是有一条白色的锦缎，上面织有金色的图案，而这正是我到都灵去主要要临摹的东西之一。你可能对此感到奇怪；但我要顺便说一句，像所有好的学生和好的画家一样，我也有欣赏服装式样的癖好。弗拉·安吉利科，佩鲁基诺，约翰·贝里尼，乔尔乔涅，提香，丁托列托，委罗内塞，达·芬奇等，无论他们属于哪个流派，也无论在其他方面有多么不同，他们都喜欢服装式样；而且，越是高贵的画家就越是在服装式样方面处理得当。

前面我说过，在都灵停留时我研究了这条白色锦缎。在公共画廊里经常有这样的情况，就是最好的画作却摆放在最不起眼的位置；然而，这幅委罗内塞的画不仅高高挂起，而且就挂在进出画廊必经的门的上方，所以参观者不可能轻易漏掉它，尽管他们可能欣赏不了。为了工作方便，我在门的旁边架起一座高台。由于这座高台有一定的高度并且位于角落，所以我能够观察到参观者们看到这幅画时的表情，而他们却看不到我。我觉得这幅画具备所有艺术品藉以吸引大众眼球的要素。它画幅很大；颜色艳丽，题材喜闻乐见。整幅画上大概有二十个人物，主要人物有真人大小：所罗门的形象，尽管是在阴影里，是到目前为止我所知道的，在所有意大利艺术品当中，最能完美地展现出这位聪明睿智、仪表堂堂的年轻国王的形象；示巴女王是委罗内塞描绘过的最可爱的女性形象之一；所有其他次要人物也都魅力不凡，充满想象；整幅画作如此完美，以至于有一天我在高台上花了两个小时也没能丝毫不差地描摹出两条锦缎褶皱的曲线。有很多来自英国的旅行者走过这间屋子；即便有时他们自己没有看到，也无一例外地被侍从带到了这幅画前。然而，对这幅我花了六个星期仅仅是研究了两个人物的画作，我发现，平均而言，每个英国旅行者大概花了半分钟或是45秒进行参观，当然他们对意大利没有偏见，至于该看什么都是发自内心；更有甚者，行动迅速的或是时髦的旅行者们，他们匆匆来此就是为了走马观花，所以仅仅是扫了一眼，就立刻转过头去观赏悬挂在右边的一幅糟糕的山水画，画中是一堵着力绘制的白墙以及一条绿色的、没有光泽的护城河。然而，给我印象最深的是，没有一位女士停下来观赏委罗内塞绘制的服装。毫无疑问这些服装要比大广场上商店里卖的服装漂亮得多，然而却没人注意它们。有的时候会有某位相貌出众，明眸善睐的女孩走进来，我通常会一直关注她，心想——“拜托，至少你得看一看示巴女王穿的是什么衣服。”但是没有——她会漫不经心地走过，微微抬一抬头，似乎在说，“这间屋子里没什么值得可看的——除了我自己，”然后就穿门而过，一走了之。

事实上，我们并不在乎绘画：确实不在乎。我们之所以参观皇家艺术学院的展览是为了获得谈资和消遣空闲的时间；出于各种原因，我们当中的富人们会买上一两幅画作，有时是为了装点走廊的角落，有时是为了烘托晚餐前客厅的谈话气氛，有时是因为某个画家很受追捧，间或是因为他穷困潦倒，还经常有这种情况，就是我们有意搜集各种类型的绘画，就像我们搜集矿石或蝴蝶的标本一样，当然，在最好，也是最少见的情形下，我们购买画作是出于对它们的喜爱；而这种喜爱也不过是与喜爱一把漂亮的扶手椅或是一只新做成的玻璃水瓶如出一辙。但是对于绘画真正的热爱，得到一幅作品时的喜悦之情，恐怕有此感觉的人只是凤毛麟角。

然而我们的冷漠并不容易消除；即便是冷漠应当消除，我们也应当恰如其分地欣赏绘画作品，而好的作品也确有所增加，因为如此一来一定会增加的——接下来则会出现另外一个问题。可能今晚在座的各位当中有人听说过我经常会自相矛盾——我倒是非常希望自己如此，因为我还从来没见过哪个需要解决的重要问题，不是像一个二次方程一样，需要至少一个肯定以及一个否定的答案。通常来讲，任何重要的事物都是三方面的，四方面的，或是多方面的；所以人们要坚持自己的观点就要严肃地沿着这个多边形巡查。拿我自己来说，至少要自我否定三次，我才会认为已经掌握了某个问题并且感到满意：所以今晚我还要自我否定一次。我刚刚说过，如果我们不能在艺术中感到快乐就不能得到好的艺术：接下来我要说，同样确信无疑的，如果我们不能在艺术中拒绝快乐的话，就不可能得到好的艺术。我们必须首先爱艺术，然后要对我们的爱加以节制。

这听起来奇怪；而我敢保证这是千真万确的。事实上，如果有什么事儿听起来不怪，通常它的真实性就值得怀疑；因为所有的真理都是奇妙的。举一个物理方面的例子，听起来一样自相矛盾。假定你在给一个小学生讲解天文学上的地球怎样在自己的轨道上保持平稳运行的道理；你会这样对他说——难道不是吗？——地球总是有被太阳吸引的趋势；同时它又总是存在飞离太阳的趋势。在小学生理解地球运动的方式之前，这两种明显矛盾的说法够他消化一段时间了。而与此类似，当我们将艺术置于其真正的和有用的轨道时，它就会一边在闪闪发光的愉悦的诱惑下行进，另一边则带着做点有益工作的，坚定的道德目的而前行。如果艺术家的工作没有乐趣，他就会消失在太空中，死于寒冷：如果他仅为乐趣而工作，就会因为拥抱太阳而化为灰烬。总之，后面这一条就是所谓宿命，我不是说这最可怕，而是说迄今为止艺术多受此折磨，世界上的伟大民族也多遭此磨难。

一方面你能清楚地看到，历史上只有在艺术中获得快乐的民族才能产生出艺术，同样你会毫无疑问地，甚至是更为清楚地看到，那些仅仅是为了获得快乐而追求艺术的民族，他们的力量和生命总是被艺术消耗殆尽。当你审视世界上伟大民族的丰功伟绩的时候，这一事实一定让你震撼。你一定会严肃地提出这样一个疑问，即便是在今天，我们应当在多大程度上追求那似乎只会腐蚀我们灵魂，麻木我们机体的快乐呢？我一直以来都在抱怨英国蔑视艺术；但是，如果更公平一点的话，我似乎应当抱怨的是她对于艺术的畏惧而非蔑视。因为，有史以来，什么是给各民族带来毁灭的根源呢？是瘟疫、饥荒、地震或是火山爆发吗？所有这些都不曾战胜过一个伟大的民族，使他的名字在地球上消失。然而，在每一次民族走向衰败的时间和地点，你都会看到其他的，发挥作用的原因，这就是奢华、娇弱、耽于享受、艺术精良以及花样翻新的行乐。那么，什么才是我们应该从古代历史当中汲取的，从古典著作中获得的，送给年青一代人的经验教训呢？这就是——朴素的生活、语言和举止可以给予一个民族以力量；奢华的生活，精妙的语言以及优雅的举止会削弱并且摧毁一个民族。当人们一无所有，寡欲少求的时候，就会勇敢而高尚：当他们嘲笑所有奢华的艺术，而在其他民族看来是野蛮人的时候，他们的刀剑就会所向披靡，统治就会无边无际：但是，当让他们对于高雅的品味变得敏感，对于快乐的追求变得迅捷之后，他们那曾经紧握铁棒的手指就会即刻松开金色的权杖。在这点上我没有丝毫的夸张；怎样地强调这一真理及其普适性都不为过。野蛮和朴素的民族从来都比擅长艺术的民族更具美德，更具优势。看一看波斯人是怎样推翻吕底亚人的；雅典人怎样推翻波斯人的；斯巴达人怎样推翻雅典人的；然后整个优雅的希腊是怎样被更为粗野的罗马人推翻的；罗马人又在变得优雅之后怎样被哥特人驯服的：在中世纪的转折点上，正是这一小撮山地牧羊人宣告了欧洲的解放，践行了基督教的美德，证明了它的教义，而他们没有艺术，没有文学，几乎没有语言，却能在条顿骑士团的围攻下屹立不倒，在罗马森严的等级中出淤泥而不染……

因此，综上所述，如果要在英国促进艺术的发展就必须做两件事：首先，要享受艺术的乐趣；其次，要让艺术服务于某种严肃的目的。我所谓严肃并不一定专指艺术的道德层面，而是指除了应当摈弃的自私、轻率或是懒惰以外，还要兼顾艺术的实用性。在前面的演说中，我确实曾经想要探索出几条能让艺术严肃地、实实在在地服务于我们文化事业的路径，至少我是这样认为的。我曾经希望告诉大家仍然有多少伟大的自然现象还没有通过艺术的方式由我们记录下来；有多少欧洲的重大历史事件正是由于未经记载而正在被人们所遗忘，而我们所要做的不过是一点点真诚的、简单的、辛苦的而又充满爱心的绘画；又有多少最为难忘的历史事件没能发挥它们一半的教育作用，仅仅是因为画家们在对其进行再现的时候，不是忠于历史事实而是凭空想象，不是为了还原历史真相，而是为了给自己的国家歌功颂德。我曾经希望告诉大家有多少最美好的心灵冲动在轻率和耽于声色中迷失，就是因为我们缺少可供凝视的、更为纯粹的美丽，缺少高贵的思想与炽热的、神圣的人类激情相结合；最后，我们失去了多么巨大的，宗教信仰的力量，就是因为我们的艺术没能以某种理性的、真实的和可信的方式去表现那些神圣的历史事件，因为它们清晰可见、易于理解地发生了，所以也应该当得到清晰可见、易于理解地再现。但是至今，我仍然不敢提出所有这一切的希望。在仔细斟酌之后，我感到还不是时候将它们公诸于众：然而我想，这一时刻不久就将来临；但是目前，我们只能对人类的自负、虚荣和空抱幻想提出批评，他们只会在口头上去冒险地追求更高的、各门艺术可能为人类储藏着的、上天的恩赐。现在还没有必要这样做：我们要拜托大家的是，一定要认真地和坦率地努力学习那些逐渐向我们开放的课程；一定要严肃对待这些课程并且是出于严肃的目的，不可将其视为儿戏。最后，我呼吁所有即将入学的同学们清楚地认识到，要将艺术作为业余的艺术爱好加以追求：它可以给你带来快乐，就如同读书使你愉悦一样——但是你从来都没想过将阅读作为业余的艺术爱好；它可以给你带来快乐，就如同学习物理带给你快乐一样——但是你不可能将物理学称为业余的艺术爱好。如果你决意仅仅将艺术视为一场游戏或是一件乐事，那么请赶快放弃艺术，因为你这样做于己无益，而且会使得我们对艺术的追求在他人眼中看来变得肮脏龌龊。毫无疑问，与其你在画廊里闲逛说笑，还不如永远都不进去：与其你攥着画笔仅仅是为了显示陶醉于自己的小聪明，那就还不如从未将其拿起：毫无疑问，与其你的本领仅够在伟大的作品中寻找瑕疵，——比如对某个合理的着色妄加推测或是对某个精湛的细节处理说三道四，那就还不如对绘画完全没有兴趣，一无所知。最重要的是，只要这些学校的教学面向的是大学低年级学生，我就会为此而申辩。任何以体力劳动为生计的人们都不大可能认为自己学习某某艺术仅仅为了消遣；但是业余艺术爱好者则不同：这一点最重要，而且，这是教给他们什么是绘画的真谛的重中之重；我们不要强求他们创作出好的作品，而要让他们在见到他人好的作品时能够慧眼识珠。好的作品，就其严格意义来说，我之前也说过，是业余艺术爱好者力所不及的；好的作品，无论从什么角度上来说，对其创作者自身或是对其他人都是具有价值的，而他必须从一开始就清楚自己能做什么，什么不能做；什么是可以得到的，什么是得不到的；只有掌握了高贵的、严格的、无所不能的和永恒的艺术法则，他才能创作出好的作品。我这不是在吓唬谁：有谁能够被吓得到，就说明他已经了不起了；除非希望羞辱了我们而理解又让我们战战兢兢，否则，我们的希望就是奢望，理解就是曲解。而且，更进一步说，请恕我直言，你们在这里，所主要要教给年轻人的东西，恐怕他们做不到的要比能做到的更多；所以，要让他们看到，在自然界中有多少东西是不能描摹的，在人类中有多少品格是不能仿效的。只有当他认识到自己所有的作品不过是难以传达的美丽的虚弱标记，不过是进行度量的无力的手段，而同时带着越发的仰慕看到上帝在人类中的天才和普通人之间划定的巨大而难以跨越的鸿沟的时候，才能说他在艺术方面接受了教育：所有人类在通常情况下所能达到的艺术成就，不过是来自对于自然景观本身的、纯粹的喜爱，以及神圣的和忘我的崇敬。这种崇敬，当更为伟大的人出现在他面前的时候，会表现为高贵的自惭形秽和兴奋的浑身颤抖。

国王的宝藏

“你们每人都会得到一块芝麻饼，——以及十英镑。”

琉善《渔民》

今晚，我首先要请求各位的谅解，因为我的演说题目有些含混不清：实际上我既不会谈论大权在握的国王，也不会谈论代表财富的宝藏；而是要谈一谈另外一种，不是通常意义上的王权和物质财富。我本想先抓住大家的注意力，（就像有的时候，有些人想方设法地带朋友去参观一幕他所得意的景致一样）先把最想要给大家看的东西隐藏起来，然后再在这种漏洞百出的小花招的掩护下蜿蜒前行，最后突然间把大家带到最漂亮的景点。然而，我曾经听擅长演讲的人们说，讲话人不开宗明义而是带着大家兜圈子的做法，会弄得听众们疲惫不堪。所以，现在我就要把这小小的面具扯下，直截了当地告诉大家，我所要讲的是蕴藏在书籍中的宝藏，以及我们找到这些宝藏的路径或是失去它们的缘由。您可能会说这个题目太严肃了，太宽泛了。没错，它太宽泛了，所以我不会试图去探究它所有的内容。我只会呈现给大家一些自己有关阅读的简单的想法。随着我们教育手段的日益扩展，大众的思想在日益改变，而相应的文学水平也在普及与提高之中，所以这些想法便日复一日地、重重地积压在我的心头。

碰巧我与很多学校的不同层次的学生有一些联系；我从他们家长那里也收到了不少有关孩子教育的信件。在这堆信件当中，有一点让我震惊，这就是孩子的家长们，特别是妈妈们，最为优先考虑的是所谓“社会地位”的问题。在信里他们常说“适合某某社会地位的教育”。据我所知，他们从来不追求某种自身良好的教育。即便是在对孩子的培训当中，他们也很少提及抽象的公正。他们所跪地祈求的教育，就是一种“能让我儿子穿上一件好的外套，能让他自信地在双铃门前摁响来访者的门铃，并且最终也能让他住上安装有双铃门的房子的”教育——总之一句话，就是能让“生活进步”的教育——除此之外，别无他求。家长们似乎从来没有想过还有这样一种教育存在，这就是，教育本身就是生活的进步；他们没有想过除此之外的任何教育就是迈向死亡；而且，如果方法得当的话，这种基本的教育可能比他们想象的更容易获得或是给予；然而如果方法不妥的话，无论付出多高的代价，拿出多少的爱心，也不可能得到。

确实，在英国，这个世界上最为忙碌的国家，人们的头脑当中，最为流行和有效的观念就是“生活的进步”。人们对此已经最为坦率地承认了，并且将其作为鼓励年轻人奋斗的，最为合适的动机而加以推动。下面请您同我一起思考一下，这个观念实际上包括什么以及应当包括什么。

实际上，在目前，“生活的进步”就意味着在生活中出类拔萃；获得一种为其他人所认可的，可敬的或是有名望的地位。通常来说，我们不会认为这种进步就仅仅意味着赚到了钱，而是要让别人知道自己赚到了钱；不是实现了什么伟大的目标，而是让他人看到自己实现了这一目标。一句话，我们要的是，得到别人喝彩时的满足感。这种愿望，对于高贵的人们来说是最无足轻重的弱点，而对于意志薄弱的人们来说，则是首要的缺陷；而且，总体而言，它对普通人的影响力最为强大：这就如同热衷于享乐往往会导致最可怕的灾难一样，一个民族最伟大的成就往往可以追溯到其对于赞美的热爱。

我在这里不是要谴责或是维护这种冲动，而是想要大家感觉到它是如何左右了我们的所作所为，特别是在今天这个时代。这是一种虚荣心的满足。这种虚荣心是我们辛勤劳作的动力，是我们安静休息的止痛膏。这种虚荣心与生命的活力紧密相关，所以当它受伤时总会被说成是（而且真正是）生命活力的丧失；我们称之为“坏疽”，这个词原本是用来形容我们身体上坏死的且不可治愈的组织。尽管一些人可能会像医生那样认识到这种热情对于我们健康和精力的种种影响，可我还是相信，大多数诚实的人们都知道并且会立刻承认，它的主要作用是为我们的所作所为提供动机。水手通常不会仅仅因为自己比别人更善于在船上操作就想要成为一名船长。他想成为船长是因为希望能被称为船长。牧师通常不会仅仅因为自己比其他人能更为坚定地带领主教管区克服重重困难就想成为一名主教。他要成为一名主教，从根本上来说是因为他想被称为“我的主”。国君通常不会仅仅因为自己比其他人戴上王冠能更好地服务于国家就想扩大或是占有一个王国，而是，简而言之，他这样做是为了想要被尽可能多的人称为“陛下”。

这就是“生活的进步”的主旨所在。对于我们所有的人来说，根据我们目前所处的地位，它的力量被主要地运用于此种进步的附带结果上，就是促使我们进入到所谓的“上流社会”。我们要进入上流社会，不是为了占有它，而是为了现身其中；我们所理解的“上流”，主要就是它的与众不同。

我想暂停一下，问一个你们可能认为是不相干的问题可以吗？如果不弄清楚听众们是支持还是反对我的观点，我就不敢没完没了地讲下去：开始讲的时候我并不在乎；但是讲过一会儿之后，我就必须知道大家的想法；现在，我马上就想知道你们是不是觉得我把人们一般行为的动机估计得太低了。今晚，我下定决心，为了使大家觉得更可信而把这些动机尽量地低估；因为每当我在有关政治经济学的著作当中，把一点点的诚实或是慷慨，或是其他什么可以称作是“美德”的东西，当作是人类行为动机的时候，人们就会回应我说，“你不要指望那些东西，它们不是人类的本性，除了嫉妒和贪婪以外人类没有其他共通的品质；只有偶尔在商业以外的什么事儿上，人们才会有点其他的情感。”所以，今晚我就从低层次的动机开始谈起；但是我必须知道你们是否同意我的观点。因此，我要问一下，有谁同意，人们追求进步最强烈的动机通常是希望得到表扬，而真心诚意地履行职责完全是次要的。请同意的举一下手。（大概十一二个人举起了手——听众们可能是拿不准我是认真的还是在开玩笑，还有可能是羞于表达自己的观点。）我是认真的——我真的想知道你们的想法；当然，同样的问题我也可以反过来问。请那些认为履行职责是首要的动机，而希望得到表扬是次要动机的人举起手来好吗？（据说只有一个坐在我身后的人举了手。）很好，看来大家同意我的观点，你们认为我并没有把人类动机估计得太低。现在，我不再麻烦大家回答更多的问题了。我大胆地假设一下你们都承认履行职责至少是第二位或是第三位的动机。在大多数人要求进步的愿望当中，尽管你们认为做点儿有用的事，或是得到点儿真正的美德是第二位的，然而它们确实是现实存在并且可以间接获得的。大家都承认，那些稍微诚实的人要取得地位和职权，至少在某种程度上是为了获得做善事的权力；他们希望结交通情达理和见多识广的人，而不是那些傻瓜和无知之徒，不管他们是否确实与通情达理的人们为伍。最后，不用赘述什么有关“朋友的珍贵”，以及“伙伴的影响”之类的老生常谈，你们也一定会承认，毫无疑问，我们是否真心地希望拥有真正的朋友和聪明的伙伴，——能否拥有他们与我们做出选择时的认真和谨慎程度成正比，——决定了我们是否可以生活得快乐和充实。

但是，即使在择友方面既有意愿又有意识，我们当中又有几个人具备这样的才能呀！或是，至少对于大多数人来说，可供我们择友的范围是多么的有限呀！几乎我们所有的交往都是由运气或是需要所决定的；并且局限在一个狭窄的圈子里。我们不能结交想要结交的人；而那些我们已经结交了的，又不会在我们最需要他们的时候出现在身旁。所有更高一级的人类智慧的圈子，对于下面的人们来说，也只会短暂地和部分地开放。如果运气好的话，我们可能瞄上一眼某位伟大的诗人，听到他说话的声音；或是对某位科学家提出一个问题，然后得到他和蔼的回答。我们可能勉强地与一位内阁大臣谈上十分钟的话，而得到的虚伪回答却还不如沉默不语；或是有时我们能够抓住机会，尽管这样的机会少之又少，在公主行进的路上投出一束鲜花，或是得到女王陛下亲切的一瞥。然而，我们所觊觎的这些片刻机遇，尽管只是如此而已，却会花掉我们数年的时光、热情和精力；而与此同时，却有一个社会群体持续地对我们开放，只要我们愿意，那里的人们就会一直同我们交谈，不管我们是何地位、是何职业，——用他们能想到的最好的词语同我们倾心交谈。这个社会群体中的人物数目庞大、脾气温和，而且能够一天到晚地陪伴我们左右，——国王和政治家们耐心地走来走去，不是同意你的觐见而是期待你的造访！——他们就守候在那些布置朴素的，狭窄的前厅里，在我们的书架上，——而我们对他们却不理不睬，——可能一天下来也没有听他们说上一句话！

你们可能会告诉我，或是在心里这样想：我们之所以冷漠地对待这一群高贵的，恳求我们听他们诉说的人们；之所以满怀热情地追随那样一群可能是卑贱的，鄙视我们或是没什么可赐教的人们，是因为，我们真正想要熟悉的是他们活生生的面容，是他们本人，而不是听他们所说的话。然而事实并非如此。假设你们不可能目睹他们的真容；——假设在你们和政要的密室之间，或是在你们和国王的会客厅之间拉上一道屏风，而你们不能跨过这道屏风，难道你们不是很乐意倾听他们的谈话吗？此时我们将屏风变小，折成两折而不是四折，而你们可以隐藏在两块装订书籍的封皮的后面，整天地倾听；不是在听闲话，而是在听最为睿智的人们所做的，深思熟虑的、斩钉截铁的、精挑细选的演说；——这种倾听的方式，听这种万人敬仰的枢密院里的高谈阔论，你们怎么会不屑一顾呢？

但是可能你们会说，我这样做是因为活着的人谈论的是正在发生的事儿，而我只对这些事儿感兴趣。不，情况不像你说的那样，因为活着的人在他们的著作中所讲的当下的事儿要比他们漫不经心的谈话好得多。然而我也承认，如果你喜爱的是那些一时流行的、短命的，而非传播缓慢且耐久的作品的话——准确来讲应该叫做书籍，那么这种动机确实能够影响到你。因为所有的书籍都可以分为两类，一时之书与永恒之书。请注意这之间的区别——它不光涉及书籍的质量。不仅仅是坏书难以流传，而好书却可以。这是一种类型的区别。好书既可以流行一时也可以传诵万代；同样，坏书也可以是一时的坏书，或是永远的坏书。在继续讲下去之前，我有必要首先对这二者加以界定。

一时的好书，——我不讲坏书，——就是将某个你不可能与之对话的人的有用或者是令人愉快的谈话刊印出书。它们通常很实用，告诉你应当懂点儿什么；又通常很耐读，就像一位聪明的朋友与你面谈。这些一时之书包括：欢快的游记；幽默机智的问题讨论；生动或是伤感的小说故事；确凿的，由那些历史亲历者们讲述的纪事等。这些书籍随着教育的普及而数量大增，是现在这个时代所特有的财富。我们对这些书应当满怀感激，并且，应当因为没能很好地利用它们而满怀羞愧。但是，如果我们让这些书篡夺了真正的书的地位的话，那么这种利用就糟糕至极了：因为严格来说，它们不能叫做书，只不过是印刷精良的书信或是报纸。我们朋友的来信可能在今天读来会让人感到欢喜或是有必要：然而是不是值得将其长期保留却还有待商榷。在吃早餐时读读报纸是完全可以的，但可以肯定的是我们不能一整天都读报纸。所以，一封长信尽管装订成册，并且生动地讲述了去年某地的客栈、道路以及天气，或是告诉你一个有趣的故事，或是描述了某某事件发生时的真实环境，不管它偶尔会有多么大的参考价值，也不能叫做真正意义上的“书”，或是从真正意义上去“读”。书从根本上来讲不是说出来的，而是写出来的；写这种书的目的不仅仅在于交流，而是为了传世。谈话类的书印刷出来仅仅是因为它的作者不能对成千上万的人同时讲话；如果能的话，他会这样做的——这样的书不过是他的扩音器而已。你不能和远在印度的朋友交谈；如果能的话，你会的；于是你选择了写：那不过是为了传声的方便。但是写一本书不仅仅是为了扩大音量或是传递声音，而是要使你的声音不朽。作家要说一些他认为是对的、有用的、或者是对读者而言既有所帮助又能带来美的愉悦的东西。据他所知，此事无人曾经谈及，也没有人能谈此事。所以他对此就一定要说上两句，而且说的时候嗓音要尽可能的清晰而甜美，所有细节都要交代得清清楚楚。他发现在自己的生命中这件事或是某一方面的事是他了然于胸的；——这是他沐浴阳光、停留人世所得到的真知灼见。于是他会欣然命笔，可能的话会将其镌刻在岩石之上；说，“这是我最好的作品；过去我像其他人一样，吃饭、饮酒、睡觉、有爱有恨；我的生命曾经虚无缥缈，但现在不是了；如果说其中有我一点点心血的话，我看到并且深知这部作品值得您牢记在心。”这就是他的“作品”；他凭借一己之力以及或多或少的灵感，刻写下了如此的铭文，或者叫做经典著作。这，才能叫做“书”。

可能你们会这样想：没有哪本书是这样写成的吧？

可我要问问你们，你们是相信有诚实或是仁慈存在呢，还是认为智者根本就不具备诚实或是仁慈的品德呢？我希望没有人会悲观到有后面这样的想法。那么，智者的作品，无论它多么微不足道，只要是以诚实和仁爱的态度写就的话，就称得上是书或是艺术品。然而，它总是与其他粗制滥造、拖沓冗长、矫揉造作的作品搅和在一起。不过，只要你能正确地阅读，就会轻易地发现其中有价值的作品，那些才是真正的书。

各个时代最伟大的人们都写下过此类书籍：他们是伟大的领袖，伟大的政治家和伟大的思想家。这些书都可供你们选择。然而生命是短暂的，你们也知道这一点。不过，你们可曾为这短暂的一生以及它的潜在价值做过规划呢？你们知道吗，如果你们读了某些书就不能再读另外一些书——今天所失去的，明天是无法弥补的。这样一来，如果你们可以同国王和王后交谈的话，你们还会跑去和女佣或是马夫闲聊天吗？如果你们有机会走进这样一间永恒的殿宇，里面站满了上流社会的精英，海阔天空，群星璀璨，——他们来自于各个国度、各个时代，你们还会自鸣得意地，怀着希望得到别人尊重和钦佩的想法，同饥渴的平民百姓一起挤来挤去，一会儿争夺这里的入场券，一会儿又跑到那里当听众吗？你们随时可以进到那里去；在那里你们可以如己所愿的获得友谊和地位；一旦进到那里，除非你们自己犯错，就永远都不会被驱逐；通过在那里结识的精英，你们自身的高贵将毫无疑问地接受检验；你们力争在生活中爬上社会高位的动机将会得到已经处于社会高位的、掌握真理的、心怀诚挚的逝去者们的度量。

我不得不说，“你们所渴望的地位，”也就是你们准备好要获得的地位；因为，请大家注意，这座历史的殿宇不同于所有活在其中的贵族：——它只对劳动和美德开放。富贵不能淫，声名不能屈，诡计不能诱的守护人在守卫着极乐世界大门。进一步来讲，卑鄙下流之徒永远都进不去。在寂静的巴黎圣日耳曼区的帘幕上面写着这样简短的提问：——“你有资格进来吗？你想要与贵族为伍吗？先让你自己高贵起来吧，这样你才会如愿以偿。你想同智者交谈吗？先学会理解谈话的内容，你才会听懂谈话。还有其他要求吗？——没有了。如果你不起身迎接我们，我们是不会俯身屈就你的。活着的贵族会对你彬彬有礼，活着的哲学家会不厌其烦地向你解释他的思想；但是在这里，我们既不会冒充贵族，也不想多费唇舌；如果你想要从我们的思想中获得快乐，分享我们的情感，如果你想要感受到我们的存在，你就必须上升到我们的高度。”

这是你必须做的，我认为这很重要。简言之，如果你想位列其中的话，就必须爱这些人。有野心是不管用的，他们藐视你的野心。你必须爱他们，并且在以下两个方面展现你的爱。

第一，诚心向他们讨教，进入到他们的思想中去。注意，是进入到他们的思想，而不是在他们的表述中寻找你自己的思想。如果写书的人还没有你聪明，那就不要读他的书了；如果他比你聪明，他的所思所想会在很多方面与你不同。

第二，在谈起一本书的时候，我们常常这样说，“这本书真棒——它和我想的一样！”然而正确的感觉应该是，“真奇怪呀！我怎么从来没有想到过，不过我觉得它说得对；或是，如果我现在不明白，希望将来可以搞得懂。”不管这样是不是有点卑躬屈膝，但至少可以肯定的是，你理解了作者的思想，而不是发现了自己的思想。如果你认为自己有资格对书中的思想作出评价的话，你可以稍后作出；不过你首先要明了它的思想。同时，如果这是一位有分量的作者的话，你就一定要清楚自己不可能立刻就理解他的全部思想；——而且，无论如何你都不可能在短期内理解他的全部思想。这倒不是因为他闪烁其辞，文采不够；而是因为他不可能将所有思想和盘托出；更为奇怪的是，他也不愿意这样做。他会采取以一种隐藏的、寓言的方式表达思想，为的就是想看看，你是否真的想要得到它。我不大明白他们这样做的原因，也不明白为什么智者们会将他们的思想深藏于心，保持残忍的缄默。他们是通过奖励的方式而不是帮忙的方式给你思想；在你得到它之前，他们一定要确信你有此资格。这就像以物理形态存在着的智慧——黄金一样。你我都希望地球的魔力能将所储藏的黄金立刻运上山顶，于是国王及其子民就会知道他们所要的黄金就在那儿；不用忍受挖掘的艰辛、焦虑、运气和漫长的等待就可以将其取走，而且想铸造多少金币就铸造多少。然而大自然的安排并非如此。她将黄金藏在地下的狭窄缝隙里，没有人知道在哪儿：你可能徒劳而无所获；然而却必须奋力才能有所得。

这与人类的最高智慧是一样的。当你拿到一本好书的时候，你必须问自己，“我会像一位澳大利亚矿工那样去挖掘它吗？我的镐头和铁锹是否井然有序，我的状态是否良好，我的袖子是否挽到了胳膊肘，我的呼吸是否均匀、情绪是否高涨呢？接下来，保持这种状态时间长一点，尽管你会感到疲惫，因为这非常有用。你正在寻找的宝藏是作家的思想，他的话语就如同岩石，你想要理解它就必须将其碾碎、熔炼。你的镐头就是你的细心、智慧和学识；你的熔炉就是自己善于思索的心灵。不要奢望不假以那些挖掘的工具和燃烧着的烈火就可以得到伟大作家的思想；经常是只有最锋利、最精巧的斧凿，最耐心的熔解才会让你得到一丁点儿的宝藏。

因此，首先，我可以认真且负责任地告诉你们（我确信自己所说的是对的），你们必须要养成密切关注词语的习惯，要确实搞懂它们的含义，一个音节一个音节地，一个字母一个字母地搞清楚。因为，尽管仅仅是因为字母的符号功能与声音的符号功能相对立，对于书籍的研究才叫做“文学”（其实应当叫做“字母学”，因为literature源于litters，意为lettered），而精通文学的人，这已经得到了多数国家的认可，才被叫做文人（直译过来应当叫做“字母人”：a man of letters），而不是书人（a man of books）或是字人（a man of words），你却仍然可以将这一偶然得到的术语（a man of letters）与这样一个事实相联系：——你有可能读遍大英博物馆的所有藏书（假定你活得足够长久的话），却还是一个彻头彻尾的“文盲”（illiterate），一个没有受过教育的人；但是如果你一个字一个字地读上十页好书，——就是说达到了真正精确的理解，——那么从今往后，在某种程度上说，你就是一个受过教育的人。受过和没受过教育的全部差异，仅就理解力的层面而言，就体现在这一精确性上。一位受过良好教育的绅士可能不懂多种语言，——除了自己的母语其他都不会说，——可能只读过很少几本书。但是他能精确地掌握他所懂的语言；他能正确地读出每个单词的读音；最为重要的是，他熟稔这些单词的族谱；看上一眼当今大众所使用的词汇，他就知道它们真正的传承和古老的血统；他记得所有这些单词的祖先、亲戚、旁支，以及在何种程度上，它们被某一时代、某一国度的贵族阶层所接受，从而登上了大雅之堂。相反，一位没受过教育的人可能会凭借记忆使用多种语言，而且都会说，但是他对其中单词的含义却不甚了了，——对自己的母语也是如此。一位智慧和判断力程度一般的水手能够设法在大多数的港口靠岸；然而只要他一张嘴，以某种语言说出话来，就能立刻被识破没有文化：同样，说话的腔调，或是在句中表达方式的变化等，都可以让一位学者立即现形。对于这一点，受过教育的人都已经深切地感受到，并且完全地认可了。因此，在文明国度的议会里，即便是说错一处重音或是一处音节，都会让人永远抬不起头来。

这样做是对的；但令人遗憾的是，我们对精确性的要求还不够，还没有将其应用于严肃的目的。没错，一个拉丁文音节的错误会在下议院里面引发嘲笑；但是我们却对一个英文词义的误用连眉头都不皱一下。大家要留心单词的重音，更要注意它们的含义，这样即使较少的词语也能满足工作的要求。当每个单词都被含混不清地使用的时候，我们可以精心选取一些单词加以澄清，这样就会起到四两拨千斤的功效。确实，如果使用单词时不加小心，有时就会铸成大错。现在欧洲就有这样一些在我们身边不停聒噪的、若隐若现的、戴了面具的单词。过去这些词语的数量并不大，但是现在，由于到处都充斥了浅显、污秽、笨拙、有传染性的“信息”或是干脆叫做谎言，而且学校里面只教给学生教义问答手册和成语而不是活生生的语言，所以使得这些词语的数量大增。没有人能理解这些单词，但是每个人都在使用它们；而且大多数人还都会为之战斗，为之生，甚至为之死；幻想着它们是这个意思，那个意思，或是其他什么他们所喜爱的东西：这些词语披着变色龙的斗篷——“地狮”的斗篷，它们的颜色就如你想象中土地的颜色一样：它们埋伏在地上会随时一跃而起，将你撕得粉碎。从来没有像这些戴面具的词语一样凶残的猎食者、狡猾的外交官和致命的投毒人；它们是所有人类思想不忠的管家：人类把最钟爱的想象力和天赋都交给了戴假面具的词语来照看；它最终却以无穷的力量控制了人类，——没有它的帮忙你就无法交流。

像英语这样来源混杂的语言，会赋予人们一种致命的、模棱两可的力量，因为无论愿意与否，人们总可以使用希腊或是拉丁词汇敬畏地表达某一思想；同样也可以使用撒克逊或是其他的常见词语粗俗地表达这一思想。比方说，如果，我们要么保留、要么拒绝将希腊文中的“biblos”或“biblion”作为“书”的正确表达方式——而不是在我们希望赋予某一思想尊严的时候就使用它，而在其他的场合则将其翻译成英文的话，那么就会对因为这“字”代表了“权力”而已经习惯了靠“字”的形式来生活的人们，产生多么非凡和有益的影响啊。如果在这种地方，比如说《使徒行传》第十九章第十九节，我们保留了希腊的表达方式，而没有翻译过来，人们就会这样读——“平素行邪术的，也有许多人把书拿来，堆积在众人面前焚烧。他们计算书价，便知道共合五万块钱”，这样对于很多淳朴的普通人来说是多么有益心智啊！或是，如果，从另一方面来讲，我们把应当保留的部分翻译了过来，总是说《圣书》（The Holy Book），而不是《圣经》（Holy Bible），尽管这样可能就会使这本书为更多的人所接受，然而，“凭神的命，自古就有了天，凭神的命，天被保留到现在”[1]，这样的话是不能用摩洛哥山羊皮装订起来作为礼物送人的；是不能在蒸汽引犁或是汽压机的帮助下播种在路边的；尽管如此，每天还是有人把它呈送给我们，然后遭到我们傲慢的拒绝；每天还是有人向我们传播，然后被我们迅速地扼杀。

所以，请再次考虑一下，当人们出于善意想要把词语说得更有力的时候，就在翻译希腊文“nαταnδiνω”时使用声音洪亮的拉丁词“下地狱”（damno）；而当人们想要把词语说得更温柔一些的时候，就使用温和的“定罪”（condemn）来替换它；这样会对普通英国人产生怎样的影响。尽管没什么文化的牧师会在翻译《希伯来书》第十一章第七节，“拯救了自己的房屋，定了世界的罪”（The saving of his house, by which he damned the world），以及《约翰福音》第八章第十、十一节，“妇人，没有人定你的罪吗？她说，主啊，没有。耶稣说，我也不定你的罪：去吧，别再犯错了”（Woman, hath no man damned thee? She saith, No man, Lord. Jesus answered her, Neither do I damn thee: go and sin no more）的时候会吓得倒退，可是他在布道时所说的——“不信主的人将被定罪”（He that believeth not shall be damned）是多么的出色呀。欧洲各个国家已经为了思想的分歧付出了血流成河的代价，在捍卫各自思想的时候，多少最高贵的灵魂已如秋风扫落叶般被抛弃在疯狂的废墟中，——尽管在他们的心中，自己的离去是出于崇高的理想。不过，分裂的欧洲已经采用了 ecclesia这个来自希腊文，专指市民议会的词，用以特别地敬称出于宗教目的而召开的“教友会”；当然还有其他的一些并行不悖的词语，比如在粗俗的英语中使用“priest”（牧师）来代替“presbyter”（长老）。

这样看来，为了正确地使用词语，你们必须养成这样的习惯。我们语言中的每一个单词几乎最初的时候都来源于其他的语言——撒克逊语，德语，法语，拉丁语，或是希腊语等（这还没有算上东方的和原始的方言土语）。很多的词汇都经历了这样的演化——最初是希腊语，接下来是拉丁语，然后是法语或德语，最后才演化成英语：在每个民族的唇齿之间流传的过程当中，这些词汇的意义和用法发生了一定的改变；但是其深层次的和本质性的意义却保留了下来，这一点是所有优秀的学者，即便是今天，在使用的过程中都能感觉得到的。如果你不认识希腊字母，就请去学；不管你年轻还是年老，是男孩儿还是女孩儿，如果想要认真的阅读（当然，这就意味着你有空闲的时间可供支配），就要学会希腊字母；然后要设法搞到所有这些语言的好的字典，无论什么时候对某个单词搞不清楚，都要耐心地穷追猛打，直到搞清楚为止。开始的时候要仔细研读一下马克斯·穆勒的讲义；然后，不放过任何一个看上去可疑的单词。阅读是件严肃的事儿；不过你会发现，即使是开始的时候也饶有趣味，而在结束的时候则会带来无尽的享受。同时，你在人格方面的收获，比如思维能力和精确性的提高，将会十分巨大。

请注意，这并不是意味着要求大家掌握或是试图掌握希腊文、拉丁文或是法文。要想彻底掌握任何一门语言都需要付出终生的努力。但是，你可以轻而易举地查明一个英文单词含义的演变历程，以及在优秀作家的作品中仍然使用着的，这些单词的含义。

现在，为了举例说明，请允许我为你们从一本真正的书中仔细地读几行，看一看能从中读出些什么。我要挑选一本大家所熟知的书。我们对这里面的英文单词都再熟悉不过了，然而对其中绝大多数的单词却从未认真读过。下面这几行诗选自弥尔顿的《利西达斯》——

“最后一个来，最后一个走，

加利利湖的领航员。

随身带了两把硕大的金属钥匙，

（金的开启，铁的迅速关闭，）

他摇晃着主教的冠冕，严厉地说，

“我本可以将你赦免，年轻的牧羊人，

可我受够了，他们为了填饱肚子而

匍匐，拥挤，并且攀爬进羊圈！

除了在剪毛人的宴会上你争我抢，

推开尊贵的客人，

对于其他很少计算；

瞎眼的馋嘴！自己从来不知道握有

羊钩，或是学会点儿什么其他的，

属于忠诚的牧人的技艺！

他们有何顾虑？有何所需？有人催问牧羊人；

他们听闻后，便在肮脏的麦秆做成的刺耳的风笛上

吹出呕哑嘲哳的，

单调轻佻的歌曲；

饥饿的群羊腹内空空，翘首企盼，

但肚里冷风嗖嗖，瘴气吸满，

他们内脏腐烂，传染蔓延；

更有饿狼突施冷箭

每日悄无声响，大肆吞咽。”

让我们思考一下这个段落，研究一下其中的措辞。

首先，弥尔顿不仅仅赋予了圣彼得完全的主教职能，而且还让他行使了新教徒通常最为反对的职责。这难道不是很奇怪吗？他的“戴上了主教冠”（mitred）的头发！弥尔顿并不热爱主教；在这里却为什么给圣彼得“戴上了主教冠”呢？“他随身携带着两把大钥匙。”这钥匙是代表了罗马主教所拥有的权力吗？或者说，弥尔顿在这里仅仅是为了诗歌的视觉效果而描写金钥匙的闪光，从而提升诗歌的表达效果呢？

这不可能。伟大的人物从来不拿生与死的原则问题开玩笑：只有小人物才这么干。弥尔顿所说的就是他真实意思的表达；并且是着力表达的——在表达的时候凝聚了他全部的精神力量。尽管弥尔顿不喜欢冒牌的主教，却喜爱真正的主教；在他的意念当中，这里的湖中领航人正是真正主教权力的代表。因为弥尔顿真心实意地这样说过，“我将把天国的钥匙交给你。”尽管是清教徒，弥尔顿也不会因为曾经的坏主教就将这句话从书中删去；而且，为了理解弥尔顿，我们必须先要理解这首诗；将这首诗看作是一件敌对教派的武器，用怀疑的眼光去看待它或是对它嘀嘀咕咕是不行的。这是一首庄严且具普世意义的诗歌，所有的教派都应牢记在心。如果我们做一下对照的话，或许你就能理解得更好了。很清楚，弥尔顿在这里对于真正的主教权力的坚持是为了让我们更为深切地感觉到什么是被滥用了的主教权力；或是通常来讲，什么是被牧师们所滥用了的权力和等级；因为他们“为了填饱肚子，匍匐、拥挤、并且攀爬进羊圈。”

千万不要以为，弥尔顿使用这三个词是和其他不严谨的作家一样，为了填补诗中的空缺。这三个词缺一不可，恰到好处——“匍匐”，“拥挤”以及“攀爬”；没有比它们更好的措辞了，多一个词也加不进去。因为这三个词全面地概括了三种类型，三种性格的人，他们通过欺诈的手段攫取教会的权力。第一种是那些“匍匐”进羊圈的人；他们不在乎职位或是声名，而是为了获取秘密的影响力，于是做什么事都神神秘秘、奸诈狡猾。他们赞同任何卑躬屈膝的仪式或是行为，为的是能够密切地洞悉，并且在不知不觉中操控人们的思想。然后是那些“拥挤”（即硬闯）进羊圈的人；他们通过天生的傲慢，强有力的辩辞，以及无畏且固执的专断获得了对普通民众发号施令的权威。最后是那些“攀爬”的人；他们出于个人的野心而付出自私的努力，通过坚定而高效的劳作和学习，获得了高位的礼遇和职权，成为了“世袭的主人”，而不是“群众的楷模。”

现在我们接着看——

“除了在剪毛人的宴会上你整我抢，

对于其他很少计算，

瞎眼的馋嘴——”

我再次停下来，因为这个词很奇怪；你可能会认为这是一个由于诗人不小心或是学问不够而用错的暗喻。

其实不然：这个大胆而简洁有力的措辞正是为了引起我们的注意并且记住它。这两个单音节词（英文为单音节词：blind mouths）所代表的正是它们所对应的反面人物，也就是教会中没有履行自己的职责的主教和牧师。

因为“主教”意味着“能看得到的人。”

而“牧师”则意味着“能提供食物的人。”

最不配做主教的人就是瞎眼的人。

最不配做牧师的人就是长着一张馋嘴的人——不给他人提供食物反而等待被他人喂食。

把这两种相反的方面放到一起就是“瞎眼的馋嘴。”我们应当进一步地阐明这一思想。几乎所有教会中的罪恶都起源于主教们不思光明而争夺权力。他们一味追求权威而不司瞭望之职。尽管他们可以积极地劝诫和训斥；然而他们真正的职权并不是统治：国王的职责才是统治；主教的职责是照看羊群；一只一只地点数；对它们的情况了若指掌。如果他没有清点过自己羊群的身体，显然就不可能道出它们的灵魂。所以，主教要做的第一件事就是使自己处于这样一种位置——任何时候，他都能够获知自己辖区内的每一个生灵从童年起的历史以及当前的状态。在那条偏僻街道的尽头，比尔和南希正彼此打得满地找牙！——主教对此获悉了吗？关注他们了吗？关注过他们吗？他能够详细地告诉我们比尔是怎么养成了殴打南希头部的习惯吗？如果不能，他就不是主教，哪怕是他的主教冠高得像斯尔兹伯里大教堂的尖顶；他不是主教，——他总是想着掌舵指挥，而不是站立在桅顶上去瞭望；他什么也看不到。“然而”，你会说，“在小街道里照看比尔可不是他的职责。”什么！难道你认为他仅仅应当照看那些毛色亮泽的肥羊吗？而与此同时，（听听弥尔顿是怎么说的）“饥饿的群羊腹内空空，翘首期盼，更有恶狼突施冷箭”（主教对此一无所知），“每日悄无声响，大肆吞咽”。

“但是我们眼中的主教不是这样的。”可能不是；但是圣保罗眼中的主教以及弥尔顿眼中的主教是这样的。他们可能是正确的，我们也可能是正确的；但是一定不要以为把我们自己的想法强加给他们的言词，就是在读这本或那本书了。

我接着读。

“但肚里冷风嗖嗖，瘴气吸满。”

这句是为了回应那句俗话——“如果穷人的躯体得不到照看，那么就照看他们的灵魂；让他们有精神的食粮。”

弥尔顿说，“他们没有所谓的精神食粮；他们只有满肚子的冷风。”起先你可能以为这是个粗俗的比喻，晦涩难懂。但是同样，这个说法用词精准。拿起你的拉丁或是希腊语词典，查找一下“神灵”（Spirit）的含义。它恰恰是拉丁语中“气息”（breath）的缩写，大体上与希腊语中的“风”（wind）相当。同样一个词还用在“风随心所欲地吹”；还用在“每个诞生于神灵的人都是如此”；这是说诞生于气息；因为它意指上帝的气息，包括灵魂和躯体。我们可以在自己的词汇，如“灵感”（inspiration也指吸气）和“死亡”（expire也指呼气）中发现气息的真正含义。现在，群羊可以呼吸到两种气息，——上帝的气息和人的气息。上帝的气息对于他们来说是健康的、充满活力的、和平的，这就如同空气之于山间的羊群一样；但是人的气息——就是弥尔顿在这里所指的精神，——对于他们来说就是疾病和传染，如同沼泽中的瘴气一样。他们的内脏由于瘴气而腐烂；身体肿胀，就像腐烂后产生臭气的尸体一样。荒谬的宗教说教确实有此功效；最初的、最后的以及最致命的标志就是“肿胀”。皈依了的孩子们教导他们的父母；皈依了的罪犯教导诚实的人；皈依了的傻瓜，半辈子都生活在白痴和麻木的状态，突然间醒过来认识到上帝的存在，就幻想自己变成了他享有特权的子民和信使；每个教派的宗派主义者们都认为他们自己才是正确的，而其他教派是错误的，不论这个教派是大是小，是天主教还是新教，是高教会派还是低教会派；而且，突出的表现是，每个教派中都有人认为人们只要想得对而不需要做得对就可以得救，只要说话而不需要行动就可以得救，只要祈祷而不需要工作就可以得救；——所有这些人都受到了真正的毒害；他们没有血肉的尸身只剩下腐败的臭气和一张皮：魔鬼将这张臭皮囊像风笛一样吹起——腐败，并且正在腐败，——“肚里冷风嗖嗖，瘴气吸满。”

最后，让我们回到先前讨论过的，有关钥匙的权力的诗句，因为此时我们应该能够领会了。大家要注意，在对这一权力的解读方面弥尔顿和但丁存在着不同：仅此一次，但丁的思想显得更为薄弱一些；他认为两把都是开启天堂大门的钥匙；一把是金的，一把是银的：圣彼得将两把钥匙交给了看门的天使；而且但丁很难确定门前三级台阶的材质以及两把钥匙所代表的含义。但是弥尔顿认为其中一把金钥匙是用来开启天堂大门的；另一把铁钥匙是用来打开监狱大门的，那里关着邪恶的教师，他们“偷走了智慧之门的钥匙，然而却连自己也进不去。”

我们已经看到了，主教和牧师的职责就是照看和喂食；对于履行了这样责任的人，有如此说法，“浇灌别人的人，自己也将得到浇灌。”但是反过来说也成立。不浇灌别人的人，自己也必将枯干；没有照看别人的人，将会被关到视线之外——关进永久的牢房。那所监牢的大门此时打开着，今后也是如此：想要进天堂的人首先要活在地上。上帝对于以使徒形象示人的，强壮的天使所发布的命令就是，“抓住他，绑住他的手脚，然后将他扔出去。”这里的“他”就是牧师，因为他不愿帮助别人，拒绝接受真理，决意奉行谎言；所以他被戴上比他所打造的镣铐更多的镣铐，被驱逐到比他误导他人所能达到的更远的地方，直到最后，铁笼子的栏杆将他完全罩住，“金的开启，铁的迅速关闭。”

我觉得我们已经从这些诗句中读出了些东西，然而还有更多的东西有待发现；但就举例而言，我们所呈现出的，这种能够称得上是“阅读”的，逐字逐句进行分析的方式，已经做得足够好了；我们关注每一个重读和词语，总是将自己置于作者的位置，放弃我们自己的个性，寻求进入他的个性当中去，为的就是能够言之凿凿地说，“这就是弥尔顿的想法，”而不是“我是这样想的，我按照自己的方式理解弥尔顿。”通过这一过程你会逐步地减少在其他场合对于“我是这样想的”的倚重程度。你会开始将你的所思所想看得无关紧要；——你对于某事的想法可能不是最清晰的，也不是最明智的：——事实上，除非你是个非同凡响的人，你是不大可能有什么“思想”的；在任何严肃的问题上[2]，你都缺乏表达思想的资本；——没有权利去“想”，只可能努力地去学习更多的既成事实。而且，极有可能在你的一生当中（除非，我说过，你是个非同凡响的人）都不会在任何事上面拥有发表“观点”的合法权利，除非这件事直接由你掌控。毫无疑问，你通常都会发现什么是必须做的，以及如何做这些事情。你有房子要收拾，货品要销售，田地要耕犁，沟渠要疏浚吗？通常对于如何处理这些事并不存在分歧；但是，如果要求你对于如何处理这些事拿个“主意”的话，那就危险了。而且，除了你自己的营生以外，总会有那么一两件事，一定需要你拿个主意。流氓和欺骗行为是令人反感的，一经发现就会立刻遭到驱逐；——贪婪和喜爱争吵即便是在孩子们的身上也是危险的倾向，在成人和国家身上则是致命的缺点；——说到底，主宰人间与天堂的上帝喜爱积极、谦虚和友善的人，痛恨懒惰、骄傲、贪婪和残忍的人；——在这些大是大非的事情方面你必须做出选择，而且毫不动摇。至于其他方面，比如说宗教、政治、科学、艺术等，你会发现，总的来说，你一无所知，也不会做出什么判断；尽管你可能是一个受过良好教育的人，你能作出的最好选择，就是保持沉默，每天都努力让自己变得更聪明些，理解更多其他人的思想。如果你能按照上面我所说的，诚恳地去做的话，你就会发现其实即使是最具智慧的人们的思想也不过是提出了相关的疑问而已。他们将困难描述得清晰可见，给你展示出悬而未决的因由，这就是通常来讲，他们能为你所做的一切！——而且，如果他们确实能够“用动听的音乐渗入我们的思考，用神圣的质疑让我们悲伤”的话，那么对他们、对我们来说都是好事一件。我刚刚读给大家的这句诗并非出自一流的或是最具智慧的作家：他不过是机敏地看到了他能看到的事，因此，发现他诗句的全部含义并不困难；但是对于那些更为伟大的作家的作品，你并不能看穿它们的含义；甚至连他们自己也不能完全了解，——因为它的含义实在太宽广了。假设我要你们找出莎士比亚，而不是弥尔顿，对于教会权威的看法是什么——或是但丁的看法是什么的话，你们中有谁，现在能说出他们中任意一位对于这一问题的，哪怕是一丁点儿的看法呢？你们曾经将《查理三世》中有关主教们的那一幕与克兰麦大主教的性格相比较过吗？你们将对于圣·弗朗西斯和圣·多米尼克的描写与对于让维吉尔为之侧目的那个人的描写，——“钉在十字架上的罪人，受到可耻的、永远的放逐；”或是与对于但丁站立其身边的那个人的描写，“我站在那里像是修道士聆听奸诈的凶手忏悔”比较过吗？我相信，莎士比亚和但丁比我们绝大多数的人都更了解人类！他们两个都曾经处于世俗和宗教权力斗争的中心。我们猜测，他们一定有自己的观点。但是他们的观点哪儿去了呢？把它带上法庭吧！将莎士比亚或是但丁的信条写成文章，将其推上宗教法庭接受审判吧！

即便是花了很长的时间，我再说一遍，你也不会理解这些伟大人物的真实意图和教义；但是只要稍微地、老老实实地对他们加以研究，你就会认识到自己先前的所谓“判断”不过是冒险的偏见——它随波逐流，与人们所摒弃的思想杂草缠绕在一起；而且，你会看到大多数人们的头脑不过是崎岖的荒野，未经照料、顽固不化，一半儿寸草不生，一半儿又荆棘蔓延，并且长满了邪恶臆断的，随风飘散的毒草；你所要做的第一件事就是，对他们也包括对你自己，急切而轻蔑地将所有这些一把火烧光；将所有的丛林燃成有益身心的灰烬，然后耕犁、播种。要读懂真正的、值得珍藏一生的文学作品，就必须照此行事，“整饬你休耕中的土地，不要在荆棘中播种。”

忠实地聆听了伟大导师的教诲以后，你或许会进入到他们的思想，然而你还可以走得更远——进入到他们的心灵。起先你靠近他们的时候是为了一睹真容，所以必须同他们待在一起，这样才有可能最终分享他们正义而强大的激情。激情，或是“感觉”，我并不害怕这个词，更不害怕它所代表的事。最近人们对于感觉的抗议之声甚嚣尘上；但是，我要告诉你们，我们对于感觉的需求不是应当减少，而是应当增加。人与人之间，动物与动物之间的高贵与否，其区别就在于此——高贵的一方比另外一方更具感觉力。假如我们是块海绵，可能获得感觉并不容易；假如我们是一只蚯蚓，就随时有可能被铁锹斩为两段，这样一来太强的感觉则未必是件好事。但是，作为人类，有感觉一定是好的；而且，只有拥有一颗敏感的心，我们才称得上是人类，而我们所能获得的荣誉正好与激情成正比。

你们一定记得我说过的那座伟大而纯粹的逝去者的殿堂，它不会允许“自大的或是粗俗的人进入。”你们是怎么理解我所说的“粗俗”的人呢？你们又是怎么理解“粗俗”的呢？对于这个问题的思考会使大家收获颇丰；但是，简言之，所有粗俗的核心就是感觉的匮乏。朴素而无知的粗俗不过是未经开发和训练的身心的愚钝；但是真正的、根深蒂固的粗俗，则伴有可怕的冷漠，在其极端的状态下，会抛弃敬畏、愉悦、恐惧和怜悯，养成野兽的习性，犯下发指的罪行。正是迟钝的手脚、枯死的心灵、病态的习性和麻木不仁的良知让人变得粗俗；人们粗俗的程度与同情心的缺乏、反应的迟钝等这些是成正比的，而这一切的感觉又都来自于身体与灵魂，用一个最为精确的词，“触觉”或是“触角”：含羞草有这种触觉，纯洁的女人比其他生物都更有这种触觉；它是一种超越理性的、精细而丰富的感觉，是理性的向导和净化器。理性可以告诉我们什么是真；而只有上帝赐予的、人性的激情才能告诉我们什么是善。

我们于是来到那些逝去者的伟大的殿堂，不仅仅要从他们那里得知什么是真理，更主要的是要同他们一起感悟正义。现在，同他们一起感悟吧，我们一定要见贤思齐；而且没有谁能不劳而获。就如同真正的知识需要节制和检验，而非突发奇想一样，真正的激情也需要节制和检验，而非一时冲动。一时性起得到的是虚无、谬误和背叛；如果你向它们缴械投降，就会被带到遥远的荒野，在空洞的热情中徒劳地求索，直到你迷失了方向，激情耗尽。这倒不是说人性中有什么感觉自身是有错的，而是说没有节制的感觉就会出错。感觉的崇高之处就在于它的力量和公正；而当它虚弱并且产生于琐碎的事由的时候就是错误的。有一种低级的惊讶，就比方说当一个孩子看到魔术师抛出金球时的惊讶，这是很低级的，我想你们同意我的说法。但是你们想过没有，当所有人都受到感召去观看制造出金球的上帝之手在夜空中将金球抛出的情景时，他们的惊讶还是低劣的或是缺乏感觉的吗？有一种低级的好奇心，比方说一个孩子打开一扇禁止打开的门，或是一个仆人窥伺他主人的生意；——还有一种高尚的好奇心，直面危险，追问沙丘那边伟大河流的源头，海的那边伟大陆地的所在；——还有一种更为高尚的好奇心，探寻生命河流的源头和天堂福地的所在，这些是“天使们意欲窥伺”的东西。所以，当你沉浸于一个低级的故事所讲述的灾难，此时所产生的焦虑就是可耻的；但是，当你注视着，或是应当注视着，一个饱受磨难的国家的生活和她多舛的命运时，你所产生的焦虑难道不是更加高尚了吗？呜呼！在今天的英国，应当受到谴责的是我们感觉的狭隘、自私和琐碎；——我们将自己的感觉消耗在了鲜花和掌声中，在狂欢中，在宴饮中；在虚假的争斗和快乐的傀儡戏表演中；而与此同时，我们却看着高尚的民族被杀戮，一个接着一个，既不费力气也没有眼泪。

我说过感觉的“琐碎”和“自私”，然而说成感觉的“不公正”或是“非正义”就已经足够了。因为，要将绅士同粗俗的人区别开来，将高贵的民族（曾有过这样的民族）与暴民区别开来，下面一点就是最好的试金石，——看看他们的感情是否坚定而公正，是否是正当的思忖和公平考虑的结果。你可以说服暴民做任何的事情；总体而言，他们的感情可能是，而且通常是，慷慨和正义的；然而这种感情缺乏根基，很难把握；你可以肆意地取笑或是挑逗他们做什么事；大多数暴民的思考方式是传染式的——他们接受一个观点就像得了场感冒，当病情发作的时候，芝麻粒儿大的事儿也会传得沸沸扬扬；然而当病状过后，就是天大的事儿也会撂爪就忘。但是绅士，或是高贵民族的激情是正义的、有节制的和持久的。一个伟大的民族，比如说，不会竭尽全民之才智，消耗数月之功，来权衡某个恶棍所犯谋杀案的罪证；而且不会在长达两三年的时间里，一直眼睁睁地看着自己的孩子们每天成千上万地彼此杀戮，却仅仅考虑如此情形会对棉花的价格产生怎样的影响，而不去过问战争的哪一方是非正义的。伟大的民族也不会因为可怜的孩子们仅仅是偷了六只胡桃就把他们关进监狱；不会允许偷了成千上万金钱的破产者们鞠躬道歉就算了事，还有一些银行家靠穷人们的存款发家致了富，仅仅写上一句“由于不可控的原因，请您恩准”就关门歇业；不会允许那些跳上在中国海上来回游弋的军舰，依靠大炮打通鸦片贸易而发了横财的人们收购大片的土地，他们为了自身的利益就将马路劫匪的命令由原来的“要钱还是要命”变成了“钱命我都要”。同样，一个伟大的民族也不会允许地主们为了每星期多赚六便士就用瘴气的热病和肮脏的瘟疫把那些无辜穷人的生命肆意摧残；然后假惺惺地、涕泪俱下地辩论是否应该虔诚地拯救、悉心地呵护杀人犯们的生命。而且，一个伟大的民族如果已经认定绞刑是对于杀人犯最为恰当的惩处的话，就一定会本着仁慈之心将杀人犯按其罪恶的轻重加以区别对待；并且不会像一群严寒折磨下的幼狼一样对着不幸的发疯的男孩的血迹发出狂吠，或是像满头银发的、呆傻的奥赛罗一样，派遣一位王室的使者对某个人彬彬有礼地说“这让我极为困惑”，而这个人，正在当着父亲们的面刺杀他们的女儿，正在冷血地杀死高贵的青年，其效率比一个乡下屠夫春天的时候屠杀绵羊还要高。最后，一个伟大的民族不会嘲笑上天以及它的权力。它不会一边假装相信对金钱的热爱是所有罪恶的根源，另一边却宣称自己在所有主要的、国家的需求和考量方面，都是受到了金钱的驱使并且乐此不疲。

朋友们，我不知道为什么有人要谈论读书。我们需要比读书更为敏锐的修养；但无论如何，可以肯定的是，我们读不了书。一个心智在如此状态下的民族是不可能读书的。他们不会理解任何伟大作家的任何一句话。此时此刻，英国的公众完全不可能理解任何有思想的作品，——他们在贪婪的精神错乱中已经丧失了思考的能力。幸运的是，我们的疾病还仅仅是停留在思考能力的缺乏上；还没有到内在天性泯灭的程度；当有什么东西击中我们的要害时，我们还会发出真实的呐喊；尽管什么东西都得“花钱”买的观念已经深入地传染到了我们行为处事的方方面面，尽管当我们扮演乐善好施的撒马利亚人的时候，不忘在掏出两便士的同时说上一句，“我再来的时候，你要还给我四便士，”在我们的内心深处却还是保留有高贵的激情。我们在工作中，在战争中，甚至在那些不公正的家庭情感纠纷中（我们对于一个小的个人过错就大发雷霆，而对于一个影响巨大的公共失误却无动于衷）都显示出这一激情：我们仍旧终日辛勤劳作，尽管我们将赌徒的愤怒也算作是劳动者的耐心；我们仍然勇敢无畏、慷慨赴死，尽管不能辨识战争的真正原因；我们仍然至死爱着自己的父母兄弟，就像海怪和岩鹰一样。一个民族有如此高贵的激情就还有希望。只要它将生命攥在手中，愿意为了荣誉而将其牺牲（即便是愚蠢的荣誉），为了爱而将其牺牲（即便是自私的爱），为了事业而将其牺牲（即便是卑微的事业），就有希望。仅仅是希望而已；因为这种本能的、莽撞的美德难以为继。没有哪个自己是暴民的民族能够生生不息，无论它的内心多么慷慨。它必须约束自己的激情，而且引导它，否则将来某一天，激情就会反过来用毒蝎般的鞭子约束这一民族。总之，一个只知道赚钱的、暴民的民族是不可能长久的：它鄙视文学，鄙视科学，鄙视艺术，鄙视自然，鄙视同情，一心一意地忙于赚钱，这样的民族是不可能生存下去而免受责罚的。你们觉得我所说的话太过刺耳或是激烈了吗？请你们再多一点耐心。我会一条一条地证明给你们看我所说的是对的。

第一条我要说的是，我们鄙视文学。作为一个国家，我们把书籍当回事儿了吗？我们在公共以及私人的图书馆上的开销与在马匹上的开销比起来孰多孰少呢？如果有谁在自己的图书馆上大笔地花钱，你们就一定会说他疯了——是个藏书狂。可是你们从来不把谁叫做藏马狂，即便是每天都有人毁于自己的马匹，而从没听说过有谁因为自己的书籍而破产。或者，说得再通俗些，联合王国的，公共的和私人的书架上的藏品，与它的酒窖中的藏品比较起来，哪个能带来更多的收益呢？与在奢华宴饮方面的花费相比，我们在文学方面的支出又处于何种地位呢？我们说精神的食粮就像身体的食粮一样：一本好书所能提供的食物是难以穷尽的；它为我们生命中最好的时光提供了给养；然而又有多少人会在盯着了一本最好的书许久以后，以一条大比目鱼的价格将其买下呢？尽管曾经有人为了买一本书而节衣缩食，可是我想，到最后，他们中的大多数，在藏书上的花费还是要比自己在晚宴上的花费少。更为可悲的是，就连有过这样历练的人也很少；因为，只有通过劳作和节俭而获得的珍贵之物才会愈发显得珍贵；假使我们在公共图书馆上的花费能赶得上公共晚宴一半的开销的话，或是书籍的价格能赶得上手镯价格的十分之一的话，那么即便是愚蠢的男男女女们可能有时也会觉得读书确有裨益，就像大快朵颐和珠光宝气一样能给他们带来享受：然而正是文学的廉价使得那些哪怕是聪慧的人们也忘了，如果一本书值得读，就一定值得买。不值一读的书是没有什么价值的；同样，如果我们不对一本书一读再读、一爱再爱的话，它也是不会发挥作用的；而且要在书中做标记，只有如此，我们才能在需要的时候找到相关的章节，就像一个士兵能在军火库里找到他需要的武器，或是一个家庭主妇能在储藏间中拿到她所需的香料一样。面粉做成的面包固然不错；但是在一本好书里面，如果你想吃的话，也有甜如蜂蜜的面包；如果一个家庭买不起这种仅需一次付钱就可终生享用的大麦面包的话，那么它一定很穷。我们自诩是富有的国家，可我们却翻阅着彼此从流通图书馆借出来的书，这是多么龌龊和愚蠢的行为呀！

第二，我说过我们鄙视科学。“什么！”你们惊叫道，“我们不是在所有的探索发现方面都属一流吗[3]，难道全世界不都被我们的发明所具有的理性或是非理性搞得晕头转向吗？没错；不过你们觉得那是国家的作为吗？那些是凭借个人的热情和金钱完成的，而不是国家的作为。我们确实相当乐意从科学中获益；我们会迅速而急切地啃光所有在科学这根骨头上长出来的肉；但是当科学家向我们要一根骨头或是一块面包皮的时候，那就是另一回事儿了。我们公开地为科学做过什么事吗？为了船只航行的安全我们被迫需要了解什么是时间，于是我们花钱建造天文台；每年我们要在议会里不情愿地、费尽周折地，才会为大英博物馆做点什么事；闷闷不乐地认为那里不过是保存鸟类标本，逗孩子们开心的地方。如果有谁自己买了望远镜，辨别出了另一个星云，我们就会像母鸡一样咯咯地叫个没完，仿佛是我们自己下了蛋；如果一万个打猎的乡绅中有一个突然间发现，土地除了用来做猎杀狐狸的场所以外，原来也可以用来干别的事，而且他自己亲自挖洞，告诉我们哪儿有黄金，哪儿有煤炭，那么我们就会觉得他干了点儿有用的事儿，并且非常恰当地授予了他爵士的称号：然而仅凭这一位乡绅知道如何给自己找点正事干的偶然所为，就能让我们脸上有光吗？（如果考虑一下的话，那么其他乡绅对其所作所为的否定就不啻为在我们的脸上抹黑。）但是，如果你还怀疑这些例子的普遍性的话，下面这个事例就值得我们全体去思考，因为它表明了我们对于科学的，所谓的热爱。两年前有一组产自索伦霍芬的化石标本要在巴伐利亚出售；这是一组现存最好的标本，其中有很多标本独一无二且保存完整，而且还有一个标本是某一物种存在过的唯一例证（那块化石代表了一个整个的、未知的生物王国）。这组化石，如果由私人购买的话，市场价值将可能达到一千或是一千二百英镑。而卖给我们英国的价格是七百英镑：但这样的出价却遭到了我们的拒绝，要不是欧文教授不惜时间，忍受煎熬地亲自向议会说明情况，并且在当下要到了四百英镑后表示剩下的三百英镑由他个人负责筹集的话，整套化石此时此刻正躺在慕尼黑的博物馆里呢。尽管议员们最终毫无疑问会还给欧文教授三百英镑，可他们却为此极为恼怒，对此事一直不闻不问；只是在等着有什么研究成果出现的时候才会跳出来高谈阔论一番。我请求大家从数学的角度考虑一下这件事到底意味着什么。我们年度的公共支出（其中三分之一用于购买军需设备）至少是五千万英镑。现在是七百英镑对五千万英镑，也就是七便士对两千英镑的比例。大家假想一下，有这样一位绅士，他的收入无从知晓，但是我们可以从他每年花费两千英镑修葺花园的围墙和雇用仆人来推算出他的财富。他宣称自己热爱科学；某天一个仆人急切地跑过来告诉他，有一组独一无二的化石，能够提供新的生命纪元的线索，总共花七便士就可以得到它；然而，这位热爱科学的，每年花两千英镑装点花园的绅士，却在他的仆人苦等了几个月后回答说，“好吧！我先给你四便士，其余的三便士你自己先垫上，等到明年再还给你！”

第三，我说过你们鄙视艺术！“什么！”你们又要嚷了，“我们的艺术展览品不是有几英里长吗？我们不是买一幅画就花掉成千上万英镑吗？我们的艺术学校和机构不是比以前任何时候都多吗？”是的，没错，但是所有这些都是为了商业的目的。你们会欣然地卖掉一幅油画就像卖掉煤炭一样，卖掉瓷器就像卖掉钢铁一样；可能的话你们会从任何一个国家的嘴里抢夺面包；如果不行的话，你们的人生理想就是像鲁德门的学徒一样站在世界的各个交通要道上，对着每一个过往的行人大喊，“你们要买点儿什么？”你们对自己的本领和周围的环境一无所知；在湿润的、平坦的和肥沃的粘土地上幻想着能够像在深褐色的葡萄藤包围中的法国人，或是在火山岩壁下站立着的意大利人一样拥有迅捷的艺术想象力；——幻想着艺术可以像记账一样一学就会，而学会后会有更多的账来记。你们对于绘画的关心程度远远逊于贴在冷冰冰的墙上的广告。墙上总会有张贴广告的地方，却从来没有给绘画作品留出空间。你们不知道自己的国家都有什么绘画作品（有声望的作品），也不知道它们的真伪，以及这些画作是不是保存良好；在其他国家，当你们看到世界上最高贵的绘画作品在被遗弃的废墟中腐烂时（例如在威尼斯，奥地利人的枪炮就曾经故意瞄准藏有这些绘画的宫殿射击），你们表现得无动于衷；而且当你们听到所有欧洲的杰出画作明天都会被装进沙袋垒成奥地利人的碉堡时，你们所感到的烦恼比在一天的狩猎中错失了一两对猎物所带来的烦恼还要少。这就是你们国民对于艺术的热爱。

第四，你们鄙视自然；就是说鄙视所有自然风景所带来的，深沉的、神圣的情感。法国的革命者们将法国的大教堂变成了马厩；而你们已经将地球上的大教堂变成了跑马场。你们对于快乐的理解就是坐着火车在大教堂的走廊里兜圈子，而且吃光它们祭坛上的贡品[4]。你们已经在沙夫豪森的瀑布上架设了铁路桥。你们已经在泰尔的礼拜堂边上的，卢塞恩的峭壁上开凿了隧洞；你们已经毁掉了日内瓦湖的克莱恩斯水岸；现在英国所有的寂静的山谷都让你们填满了爆破的火焰；没有哪一寸英国的土地没有被你们践踏上煤炭的灰烬[5]——没有哪个外国的城市，由于你们的到访，而没有在其古老而美丽的街道和快乐的花园当中留下如恶性麻风病所造成的，白色溃疡一样的新建旅馆和香水商店：就连过去你们自己的诗人所虔诚地热爱着的阿尔卑斯山，在你们看来也成了游乐场里的一根根抹了肥皂水的滑竿，你们爬上去再滑下来，“快乐地尖叫着。”尖叫过后，再也发不出什么人类的声音以表达快乐了，于是你们就在阿尔卑斯山寂静的山谷中放上几枪，然后跑回家。此时你们脸上泛出自负的红晕，一边夸夸其谈一边心满意足地打着饱嗝。就其深刻的内在意义而言，我认为有两幅丑态是我所见过的，人性中最为可悲的景象。其一就是英国的暴民们在夏蒙尼山谷发射锈迹斑斑的榴弹炮来自娱自乐；其二就是瑞士苏黎世的葡萄采摘者们对上天的恩赐表达感激的方式：他们三五成群地聚集在“葡萄园的塔楼”里，然后从早到晚，慢悠悠地，拿着马枪装弹射击。对于责任的认识模糊不清是可悲的；然而更为可悲的是这种对于快乐的理解。

最后，你们鄙视同情心。我不需要多费唇舌，这一点不证自明。在这里我只是从报纸上选取一个剪下的段落（因为我有剪报的习惯并且把剪下来的文章塞进抽屉里）；这篇文章来自今年（1865）早些时候的《晨报》；【……】它所讲述的这件事现在每天都会发生；只不过碰巧这件事是从一位验尸官的角度来交代的。我将以红色的字体把这一段刊印出来。请相信，这些事实就是用红色墨水写在一本书里的，我们所有的人，有文化的和没有文化的，总有一天都可以在这本书里读到属于我们的那一页。

“助理验尸官理查兹先生在斯皮特尔菲尔兹区的，基督教堂街的白马客栈，就现年58岁的迈克尔·柯林斯的死因进行了质询。证人玛丽·柯林斯，一个表情悲戚的妇女说，她与死者和他的儿子住在基督教堂街，柯布大院2号的一间屋内。死者是一位靴子‘翻修匠’。证人出门收购旧鞋；死者和他的儿子将旧鞋翻新，然后证人再把靴子卖掉，换取微薄的收入。死者和他的儿子常常夜以继日地工作，为的是能挣到钱买点儿面包和茶叶，并支付房租（每周两先令），以确保全家生活在一起。在上周五的晚上，死者从凳子上站起来开始哆嗦。他扔下靴子说，‘这双靴子在我死后要由别人完成了，我干不了了。’屋里没有生火，他接着说，‘要是能暖和点儿就好了。’证人于是拿了两双翻新好了的靴子到店里卖，但是两双靴子只能卖十四便士，店里的人说，‘我们必须有赚头。’证人买了十四便士的煤、一点茶叶和面包。他的儿子一宿没睡‘翻新’靴子挣钱，但死者还是在周六早晨离世了。这家人从来没吃饱过。——验尸官说：‘我觉得你们应该去救济院才对。’证人说：‘我们待在自己家里更舒服些。’一位陪审员问他们家里有什么能提供舒适的东西，因为他只在房间的角落里看到一点稻草，房间的窗户还是破的。证人开始哭了，并且说他们有一床被子和其他一些小东西。死者说过他绝不会去救济院。夏天的时候是旺季，他们有时一个星期能挣十先令。他们一般会把钱节省下来，因为下星期很有可能就挣不到这么多钱了。冬天的时候他们挣得还不到夏天的一半。这三年以来他们的境况越来越糟。——科尼利厄斯·柯林斯说，他从1847年就开始帮助爸爸挣钱了。他们通常都工作到深夜，所以两个人都几乎累瞎了眼睛。证人的眼睛上蒙了一层薄翳。五年前死者曾向教区申请过救助。救助官员给了他一块四磅重的面包，然后告诉他，如果再来的话将会“得到石头。”[6]死者对此颇为反感，从此再没有找过他们。这家人过得越来越差，直到上周五，他们甚至连半便士一根的蜡烛都买不起了。死者于是躺在稻草上，说自己活不过明天了。——一位陪审员说：‘你们就快要饿死了，应当搬进救济院一直住到夏天。’——证人说：‘如果搬进去我们会死掉的。因为夏天我们搬出来的时候就会像是从天而降一样。没有人认识我们，我们甚至连住的地方都没有。只要有吃的我就能工作，我的视力也会变好些。’G. P. 沃克医生说死者是死于过度饥饿导致的晕厥。死者没有被褥。四个月以来除了面包他什么都没吃过。他的身体里面已经没有一丁点儿油水了。他没有病，但是如果之前接受过医药救治的话，他可能不会死于晕厥或昏厥。在验尸官对此令人痛心的事件作出评论后，陪审团得出以下结论：‘死者死于饥饿和生活必需品的缺乏所引起的精力衰竭；而且未得到有效的医疗救助。’”

“为什么证人不去救济院呢？”你们会问。是这样的，穷人们似乎对救济院有着富人们所没有的成见；因为那些从政府领取养老金的人大量地进入了救济院：只有富人的救济院才不会有救济的概念，对他们来说救济院应当叫做娱乐院。[7]但是穷人们似乎更愿意独立地去死；可能，如果我们把穷人的救济院建得足够漂亮舒适，或是干脆把救济金发放到穷人的家中去，并且拿出一小部分公共财政的支出补贴给他们的话，他们对于救济院的看法可能就会有所改变。同时，请注意下面的事实：我们的救济措施要么使得接受救助的人备感羞辱，要么让他们痛苦不堪，以至于他们宁死也不肯从我们手中接过救助；或是，还有第三种可能，就是我们听任穷人们不受教育、愚昧无知，以至于他们像野兽一样忍饥挨饿，疯狂而麻木，不知道该做什么，也不知道该要些什么。我说过你们鄙视同情心。不是吗？在一个基督教国家里根本就不应该出现那篇报道中所发生的事情，这同允许在大街上蓄意谋杀又有什么区别呢？“基督教，”我刚才说了。唉！即便我们是心智健康的非基督徒，这种事情也是不该发生的：恰恰是我们想象中的基督教帮助我们犯下了如此罪行；因为我们陶醉、沉溺于自己信仰中的低级的感官刺激；像所有其他的东西一样，在想象中将其扮靓。我们的基督教颇具戏剧效果，它有管风琴和教堂的侧廊，晨钟与暮鼓——在基督教里，我们常常采用绘画的方式，在有关撒旦题材的绘画中，比如罗伯特、浮士德的故事等，将对魔鬼的嘲笑与同魔鬼的嬉戏相结合；我们在花饰窗格所营造的背景气氛中唱诗，在变化多端的、模仿的祈祷声中艺术地改变“Dio”的发音：（而第二天当我们为了没文化的，满嘴脏话的人们的便利，为了践行第三条戒律的意义而散发小册子的时候，）这个我们引以为荣的，靠煤气点亮，靠煤气获得灵感的基督教，就会从对它提出异议的异教徒的接触中缩回其长袍的褶边。还是用清楚明白的英语和行动做点儿普通的基督徒应行的正义之事吧；还是将基督教的律法作为生活的准则，并且在此之上订立国家的法律或愿景吧，——我们清楚地知道自己的信仰是为了什么！你们从焚香的烟雾中获得神启的速度可能比从现代英国宗教中获得的真实行动和热情来得更快。但是你们最好驱散烟雾，离开琴管：把它们，以及哥特式的窗户、彩绘的玻璃等统统留给道具管理员；你们要在健康的呼气中排出甲烷气体的幽灵，并且照看一下倒在你们台阶下的，像得了麻风病的乞丐拉撒路一样的穷人们。因为，只有人人伸出帮助之手的教会才是真正的教会，才是唯一神圣的、母性的教会。它过去是如此，将来也不会改变。

所有这些喜好，所有这些美德，我重复一遍，你们，在国家的层面上，都加以鄙视。没错，你们当中有人确非如此；正是凭借着他们的工作，他们的力量，他们的生命，他们的死亡，你们才得以生存，然而你们却从未对他们表达感谢。如若不是那些你们轻蔑或是忘记了的人们，你们是不可能拥有财富、快乐和骄傲的。警察们整夜在黑暗的小巷里来回巡视，监视你们在那儿犯下的罪行；他们随时都有可能肝脑涂地，或是落下终生的残疾，然而却从未接受过感谢；水手们与大海的怒涛搏击；安静的学生们对着他们的书籍或是量杯苦思冥想；普通工人们，在没有荣誉，甚至没有面包的境况下，在你们乘着马车，漫无目地闲逛，一骑绝尘的时候，履行着他们的职责：英国是靠这些人生存的；但是他们并不是国家的全部；他们只不过是它的躯体和神经组织，本能而机械地作出反应，而真正的头脑却缺失了。我们的国家愿景和目标仅仅是寻欢作乐；我们的国家宗教不过是教会仪式的表演和对让人昏昏欲睡的真理（或伪真理）的宣教，这样做是为了让暴民们能够安静地工作，而我们可以继续寻欢作乐；就如同伴随热病出现的焦干的喉咙和恍惚的眼神一样，这种享乐的必要性正在紧紧地同我们绑在一起，——它毫无意识，毫无节制，并且残忍至极。疾病这个词（英文：disease＝dis＋ease）多么形象地表达出了我们英国式的勤奋和享乐方式的全部道德状态呀！

当人们忙于正经事的时候，他们的快乐便来自工作，这就像绚丽的花瓣出自结出硕果的花朵；——当人们忠实地为他人提供帮助并且献出爱心的时候，他们所有的情感就会变得平和、深沉、持久而生机勃勃，就像人身体的自然脉动一样。然而现在，由于我们没有什么真正的事业，所以便将全部的力气投入到了错误的赚钱行当中去；由于我们没有什么真正的情感，便将虚情假意装扮起来加以玩弄。我们如此做法不是像孩子那样摆弄玩偶，出于天真无邪，而是像偶像崇拜的犹太人一样，罪恶地、秘密地将图画挂于墙上的洞穴之中，等待人们去挖掘、探测。我们不行正义之事，却在小说里和舞台上假装正义；我们摧毁掉自然界中的美丽，然后在哑剧中以魔幻的形变取而代之；而且（我们的人性当中迫切地需要某种形式的敬畏和悲伤）对于我们同伴所应当抱有的高尚的同情心，应当同他们一起洒下的纯净的泪水，已经让我们变换成了治安法庭上对于不幸遭遇的幸灾乐祸，和靠收集坟墓上的夜露聊以自乐。

对这些事情的真正意义进行估量是困难的；这些事实足够骇人听闻；然而国家在这些事情方面所犯的错误可能并不像起初看上去那样严重。我们每天允许或是引起数以千计的人死亡，但是我们并无恶意；我们纵火烧了房子，毁掉了农民的田地，然而如果我们发现有谁受到了伤害，我们也会抱有歉意。我们的内心仍然善良，仍然有美德，只不过同孩子们的善良和美德差不多。查莫斯曾经拥有很大的公权力，曾被某个有关“公众舆论”的严重事件搞得焦头烂额。在其漫长生命临终之时，他发出了不耐烦的慨叹，“公众不过是一个体型巨大的婴儿！”我之所以会将所有这些更为严肃的，有关思想方面的问题同对于读书方法的探讨相联系，是因为我看到的，我们国家的过失和痛苦越多，就越明白这些过失和痛苦其实是源自我们像孩子一样的无知状态以及在最为普通的思考习惯方面的教育的缺失。它不是，我重复一下，我们应当哀悼的恶行、自私、或是头脑的愚钝；而是一种我们看不到摸不着的，学童式的莽撞，与真正学童的区别仅仅是在于它不接受老师的教诲。

在距离我们最近的一位伟大画家的作品中，有这样一幅可爱的，但被人们忽视了的画作，它当中描绘了这样一种有好奇心的人。这幅画画的是位于柯克比·朗斯代尔的教堂墓地，包括那里的小溪、山谷、丘陵以及远处层层叠叠的早晨的天空。一群学童不顾及这里的风景也不考虑长眠于此的死者，将他们的书本码放在一座坟丘上面，然后用石头将它们打倒。同样，我们也在与能使我们受到教育的、逝去者的文字戏耍，并且充满敌意地、草率地将它们拒于千里之外；而不去想，那些被风吹散的书页其实不仅仅是堆积在了坟头，更是堆积在了被施了魔法的墓穴的封印之上——而且，这里就是通往熟睡着的，国王们的，伟大城市的大门；如果我们能叫出他们的名讳，这些国王们将会苏醒并与我们同行。经常有这样的情况，就是我们虽然开启了大理石的墓门，却只能够在那些睡梦中的老国王们中间游荡，用手摸一摸他们的长袍，碰一碰他们额头上戴的皇冠；然而他们却一言不发，像是落满了灰尘的雕塑；这是因为我们不知道能够将他们唤醒的心灵的咒语；——他们一旦听到这一咒语，就会带着自己过去曾有的权威起身与我们相见，仔细地端详我们，对我们作出判断；并且，就像堕入冥界的国王们接见新来者一样，说，“你也如我们一样归西了吗——也成为我们中的一员了吗？”于是这些国王们便戴着闪闪发光的、纹丝不动的王冠接见我们，说，“你也同我们一样有一颗纯净和强大的心灵了吗——你也成为我们中的一员了吗？”

强大的心灵，强大的思想——“宽宏大量”——能做到这一点，在生活中就是伟大的；朝这个方向努力，就是真正的“在生活中进步，”——是生活自身的进步，而非生活的外在表现。朋友们，你们还记得那个古老的塞西亚人的风俗吗？当他们的一家之主离世的时候，人们会给他穿上最漂亮的衣服，让他坐上四轮马车，然后把他送到朋友们的家里；接下来朋友们会把他安置在桌子的上首，然后当着他的面大吃大喝。假定有人以简明的话语告诉你说，当你还活着的时候，就会缓慢地获得塞西亚人的荣誉，并且将来一定会享受到此种可怕的待遇。具体的提议是这样的：你将慢慢死去；你的血液将会日渐冷却，你的身体变得僵硬，你的心脏会像一组生了锈的铁阀门一样慢慢停止搏动。你的活力将会离你远去，透过地表沉入冰川；但是，一天天地，你的身体将会被装扮得越发喜庆，装进更高级的马车，胸口上别了更多的勋章——头上戴了更多的王冠，只要你乐意的话。人们会在你面前鞠躬，在你周围凝视叫喊，簇拥着你在街上走来走去；为你营建宫殿，将你置于餐桌的上首，彻夜地与你宴饮；你的灵魂会稍作停留，从而知道他们都做了什么，感觉到肩膀上所披的，金色外衣的分量，以及颅骨上被所戴王冠勒出的皱纹；——就是这些了。你会接受死亡天使这一口头的提议吗？你认为，我们中的，哪怕是最为卑微的人会接受吗？然而我们每个人，在某种程度上，确实想得到这些；我们中的很多人，甚至会全盘接受这一恐怖的提议。每一个接受它的人都渴望在生活中进步，然而却不知道生活是什么；他们光想着得到更多的马匹，更多的仆人，更多的财产，更多的公众荣誉等——而不是更高尚的个人灵魂。只有心灵变得更为柔软，血液变得更为温暖，头脑变得更为灵活，精神正在进入充满生机的和平当中去的人，才称得上在生活中取得了进步。只有那些如此生活着的人们才是这世上真正的贵族或国王——他们，只有他们才是。其他所有的君主国家，即便是真的有国王，他们也不过是继承王位后的实际结果而已；如果更差一点的话，他们要么是招摇过市的王公贵族，——到处炫富，浑身珠光宝气——但仍然不过是国家的玩偶；要么他们根本就不是王族成员，而是暴君，或仅仅是国家愚昧的，现实和生动的体现；正因为如此，我才在别的场合对君主政体说过这样的话，“看得到的政府是某些国家的玩具，另一些国家的疾病，一些国家的羁绊，更多国家的累赘。”

但是听到在有思想的人们当中仍然有人提及王权的说法，为此我极为震惊，不知道该说什么好。他们的意思似乎是在说，国家是私人的财产，可以买卖，或是像绵羊一样可以获取——用绵羊的肉喂国王，它们的毛也归国王所有；似乎阿基里斯怒斥卑劣的国王时所说的“吃人”可以作为所有君主的，不变的和恰当的绰号；而且扩大国王的领土就如同增加个人的土地财产一样无可厚非！不管多么强有力的国王，只要有如此想法他就不再是一个国家的真正君主了，正如牛虻不可能成为一匹马的领袖一样；它们吸马儿的血，可能会使它发疯，却不能将其驾驭。他们，他们的朝廷和他们的军队，如果你擦亮眼睛就能看得到，不过是夏日里一群沼泽地里的大蚊子，擎着刺刀一般的吸管，吹着乐队一般的号角；尽管成群结队的蚊虫在暮色中如闪光的薄雾一般看上去很漂亮，却不见得有益健康。而与此同时，真正的国王们，即便是真在统治，也会很低调，并且痛恨统治；他们中的很多人会作出“拒绝称帝”的决定；如果不是这样的话，一旦那些暴民觉得情势有机可乘，便会毫不犹豫地取而代之，成为“伟大的帝王”。

然而，如果有一天，现实中的国王对自己统治的评估不是看他国家的地理边界，而是看他统治的力量的话，那么他就可能成为真正的君主。特伦特河在这儿割去一块角地，或是莱茵河在那儿圈走一处城堡，这些都是无关紧要的事。但是，作为君主，你能否肯定地对一个人说，“去，”他就去了；而对另外一个人说，“来，”他就来了，这才是至关重要的。你能否指挥你的臣民就像指挥特伦特河一样——能够命令他们何去何从，这才是最重要的。作为君主，你的臣民是恨你，因你而死，还是爱你，为你而生，这才是最重要的。你可以依靠民众的数量而不是英里数来丈量你的疆域；你可以用计算纬度的办法计算一下受民众爱戴的程度，看一看它距离异常温暖和无垠的赤道有多近，而不是离开它有多远。

计算一下吧！——不，你算不出来。有谁能够算出来下面两种权力的区别呢？一种权力属于那些“既亲为又亲授”的人们，他们无论在人间还是在天堂的王国里都是最伟大的人物；另一种权力属于那些只知道破坏和消耗的人们，他们的权力不过是相当于飞蛾和铁锈的作用。怪哉！请想一想，飞蛾的国王们为飞蛾积累财宝；铁锈的国王们，他们锈蚀人民的力量就如同铁锈之于盔甲，为铁锈积累财宝；强盗的国王们为强盗积累财宝；然而，又有几位国王曾经积累过无须守卫的财宝——甚至盼望着光顾它们的盗贼越多越好呢？绣花的长袍早晚要撕裂；头盔和宝剑定会黯然失色；宝石和黄金迟早要散尽；——然而有三种国王一直在收集这些东西。假如有第四种国王，他曾经从古代晦涩难懂的著作中得知，这世上还有第四种财宝。这种财宝，黄金和宝石不可与其匹敌，以纯金对其加以度量亦不可行——它是一张漂亮的，用雅典娜的梭子织就的罗网；一副在神火中，由伍尔坎倾力打造的盔甲；一块从太阳的红心中开采出来，放置在神谕的悬崖上的黄金；——它是绣有神秘绘画的薄纱，不可刺穿的甲胄，和可供饮用的黄金！有三位伟大的天使：行动、辛劳和思考的天使，在向我们召唤，在我们门前的立柱旁等待，用她们长有羽翼的力量带领我们，用她们如炬的慧眼指引我们，走上一条无人知晓的、贪婪的秃鹫没办法看到的路径。想象一下吧，我们难道不是需要这样一位，听信了这些话语，而且最终为他的人民收集到并且奉献出了这第四种财宝——智慧，的国王吗？

想一想，那该会是一项多么了不起的事业呀！以我们当下的民族智慧，这将是多么的不可思议呀！我们应当将农民们调动起来读书而不是练习刺杀！——发给他们薪资，以具备优秀的领导才能的思想家的团队，而不是刺杀者的团队，对他们进行组织、训练，并且持之以恒。我们不但要在射击场上还要在阅览室里娱乐民众；我们不但要对铅弹击中标靶进行奖励还要对发现真理予以表彰。说白了，我们要将文明国度中，资本家的财富用来支持文学而不是战争，这在某些人看来，是多么荒诞不经的想法呀！

请大家稍安勿躁。下面我给大家从我自己写的一本书里面读几句话。这本书是我写的唯一一本可以称得上是书的书。我想，在我所有的作品中，它是最确定无疑地具有恒久价值的（如果确有价值的话）一本。

“在欧洲，财富在以一种极为可怕的形式运作着，这就是，资本家的全部财富都用来支持非正义的战争。正义的战争并不需要如此多的钱财来支持；因为大多数参与正义战争的人们是不要酬劳的；但是对于非正义的战争，人们的身体和灵魂都需要靠金钱来购买；此外，他们在这样的战争中会使用最好的武器，这也使得此类战争的花费高昂到极点；这还没有把国家间卑鄙的恐惧和愤怒的猜忌所造成的损失算在内，这些国家缺乏使得它们的民众获得哪怕是一个小时的心灵的平和所需的仁慈或是诚实；就像现在，法国和英国每年都彼此购买大约价值一千万英镑的恐惧（这是一种相当低产的作物，一半是荆棘一半是山杨树叶；它依靠教唆贪婪而不是传授真理的，现代政治经济学家所谓的“科学”来播种、收割和储存）。而且，所有接受援助的非正义的战争，要么是靠从敌方掠夺财富，要么就是靠从资本家那里获得贷款。这些贷款会通过随后的，对人民的征税获得偿付，而人民似乎并不能左右事态的发展，只有意志坚定的资本家才是战争的始作俑者；但是，引发战争的真正根源是整个国家的贪婪，这使得它丧失信仰、真诚以及公正，于是，早晚有一天，会给自己国家的每个人都带来惩罚和灾难。”

请注意，实际上，法国和英国是在购买彼此的恐慌；这两个国家每年都会购买价值一千万英镑的恐惧。可以试想一下，如果它们不是每年花一千万英镑购买恐慌，而是下定决心和平共处，每年购买价值一千万英镑的知识，每个国家，每年都把这一千万英镑花在兴建皇家图书馆，皇家艺术品展览馆，皇家博物馆，皇家公园，以及其他休闲场所上的话，那么这样一来，对于英法双方不是都有好处吗？

然而要看到这一局面还有待时日。不过，我希望在不久的将来，皇家或是国家图书馆就可以在每一个较大的城市兴建，其中要收藏皇家系列的图书；每一个图书馆都要有同一系列的图书，它们是每一种类中最好的、精选的图书，以尽可能完美的方式为建立一套全国系列的图书做准备；这些图书的正文要印刷在大小一样的纸张上，要留出足够宽的空白页边，并且要将书籍分成若干合理的卷册，手感轻盈，装帧也需极尽精美牢固；而且这些图书馆要一天到晚随时开放，允许所有干净利落的人进入；要实行严格的规章以保证这种清洁和宁静。

我可以为你们制定出其他的规划来，比如说对于艺术展览馆，自然历史博物馆，以及很多其他珍贵的，我认为是必须的场馆的规划；但是，我们对于图书馆的规划是最容易办到，同时也是最为迫切的，而且这一规划将为我们所谓的英国体质提供重要的滋补，——它最近浑身浮肿，呈现出病态的干渴和饥饿，急需更健康的饮食。你们已经废除了不列颠的《谷物法》；可否尝试一下确立新的谷物法，以便购入更好的面包——那种施了魔法的，由古老的阿拉伯谷物——芝麻，所做成的面包，因为那芝麻能够打开大门，——不是强盗的大门，而是国王宝藏的大门。

————————————————————

[1] 《彼得后书》，第三章第5—7节。

[2] 现代“教育”在很大程度上意味着教给了人们，在所能想到的对自己来说重要的方面，进行错误思考的本领。

[3] 我既然这样写了就说明答案是否定的；我们已经完全将北极领域内的探索任务交由大陆国家来完成了，因为我们穷得买不起船只。

[4] 我的意思是指世界各地的美景——瑞士、意大利、德国南部等——这些地方才是真正的大教堂——才是我们应当虔诚祈祷的地方；然而我们只在乎走马观花：在它们最为圣洁的地方大吃大喝。

[5] 由于空气中的烟灰从几英里以外随风吹落下来，所以约克郡里士满地区的河岸变得一片漆黑。几年前看到这一景象时，我深感震惊。

[6] 这句对于百无一用的劳工所说的话在措辞上与某一篇文章惊人地相似，我想大家对这篇文章可能有点印象。它也放在我的抽屉里。我想把这篇文章与这里引用的这个段落放在一起，可能会更好地说明一些问题。这篇文章也是我从《晨报》上剪下来的，发表的日期也是在1865年，3月10日，星期五。文章内容是这样的：——“C夫人巧妙地摆出体面和优雅的架势以尽其地主之谊。在她的沙龙里挤满了亲王、公爵、侯爵和伯爵——事实上，参加的人等与梅特捏公主和朱茵·德·路易斯夫人所举办的聚会中的男宾们是一样的。一些英国的贵族和国会议员也到场了，他们似乎对这里伤风败俗的活泼生动和纸醉金迷欣赏有加。二楼的餐桌上摆满了各类时令的美味佳肴，这些都是供给四点钟来此就餐的客人的（大约有200人）。为了让您对巴黎上流社会的大餐有所了解，我在这里把当晚的菜单抄录如下。首先是酒类：精选伊甘堡葡萄酒，约翰尼斯堡雷司令，拉斐特葡萄酒，托凯葡萄酒，品质最好的香槟等，供宾客们彻夜畅饮。晚宴过后是更为火暴的舞会，一直持续到第二天清晨七点，直到人们跳完恶魔一般的圆圈舞和地狱一般的康康舞为止。（然后是早餐——“晨光刚刚睁开了她的眼睛，清新的草坪还模糊不清。”——）下面是菜单：——‘清炖鸡汤，搭配16样开胃菜。塔列朗馅饼。凉拌酸辣鲑鱼。贝尔维牛里脊肉片，米兰香烤三味，野味儿肉冻、松露火鸡、鹅肝酱、不韦松小龙虾、威尼斯沙拉、各色果冻、曼奇尼蛋糕、巴黎的和巴黎式美食。冰奶酪、菠萝、甜点。’”

[7] 请注意这个说法，想一想，一位穷苦的老妇人每个星期从国家领取一先令的救济，她会感到多么的羞辱呀——然而相反，是不会有谁会为领取一年一千英镑的养老金而感到羞耻的。

交　易

在布拉德福市政厅的演说

【1864年4月21日】

约克郡的朋友们，你们邀请我到这山里来，是为了让我就你们将要建立的交易所谈谈自己的看法：但是，我认真地、严肃地请求你们的谅解，因为我不会讲有关交易所的事。我对这一话题一无所知或是知之甚少。尽管不是有意为之，我还是会谈一谈其他的事情；你们邀请我来谈一个话题，而我却自作主张地谈另外一个话题，所以我不配得到你们的原谅。但是，讲自己不感兴趣的题目是不会达到预期效果的；所以一开始，我就不得不直白地和遗憾地告诉各位，我对你们的交易所不感兴趣。

然而，如果当初我接到你们发给我的邀请函时这样回复，“我不来，我对布拉德福的交易所不感兴趣”的话，你们一定会生我的气，因为你们并不了解我如此生硬而冷漠地拒绝邀请到底是为了什么。所以我来了，希望你们能耐心地让我解释一下为什么，以前，在这样的以及很多类似的场合，我会抓住机会向和蔼可亲的听众发表演讲，而现在却总是默不作声。

总之，我对交易所不感兴趣——因为你们不感兴趣；而且因为你们清楚地知道我不可能让你们感兴趣。请看一看整件事情的基本情况吧，尽管你们可能认为我忘了，可是你们作为商人却知道得一清二楚。你们将要花费三万英镑建造交易所，这对于你们大家来说无足轻重；购买一件新外套，就其花费而言，对于我来说的重视程度，都要远远高于你们对于新建一座交易所的重视程度。但是你们还是想让自己的钱花得其所。你们知道建筑可以有多种古怪的样式；你们不想因此成为别人的笑柄；你们听说，除了别的以外，我还是一位有声望的建筑学上的帽商；于是你们邀请我来，想让我讲一讲当下的潮流；以及，什么是当下，我们商店里最新、最受欢迎的建筑尖顶的式样。

好吧，请恕我直言，仅仅靠听取别人就某一个案发表的建议就能拥有好的建筑是不可能的。所有好的建筑都是民族生活和性格的体现，它产生于普遍和热切的民族品味或是对于美的追求。我想让各位想一想这里“品味”这个词的意义；因为我关于好的品味根本上来说就是一种道德品质的说法，是最饱受人们争议的话题。“错，”很多反对我的人说，“品味是一回事，道德是另一回事。告诉我们什么是漂亮：我们愿闻其详；但是请不要让我们听你的说教——即便是你会说教，其中的道理也未必对。”

因此，请允许我，对我的这一旧的信条加以说明。品味不仅仅是道德的一部分或是它的表征；——它是道德的全部。对于任何活着的人来说，如果要了解他的品味，首要、最终和最贴近的提问就是，“你喜欢什么？”告诉我你喜欢什么，我就会知道你是什么样的人。走到街上去，问一问你第一个见到的男人或女人，他们的“品味”是什么；如果他们直率地回答了你的问题，你就可以彻底地了解他们。“你，我衣衫褴褛、步履蹒跚的朋友，你喜欢什么？”“一个烟斗和四分之一品脱的杜松子酒。”我了解你了。“你，可爱的，步履轻盈、头戴利落软帽的女士，你喜欢什么？”“整洁的壁炉，干净的茶几，对面坐着我的丈夫，怀里抱着我的婴儿。”好，我也了解你了。“你，头发金黄、目光温柔的小女孩儿，你喜欢什么？”“我的金丝雀，还有在长满风信子的树林里奔跑。”“你，两手脏兮兮的、低着额头的小男孩儿，你喜欢什么？”“用石头打麻雀，扔铜钱的游戏。”好了，我对他们都了解了。我们还有什么要问的吗？

“不，”可能你会回答，“我们还不如问一问这些人都干了些什么，而不是他们都喜欢什么。如果他们行为端正的话，那么他们即使是喜欢错误的东西也不要紧；如果他们行为不端的话，那么他们即使是喜欢好的东西也于事无补。行动最重要；如果一个人不喝酒，那么他喜欢喝酒也没有关系；同样，一个小女孩儿不好好学习，那么她对金丝雀再好也没用；如果一个小男孩儿去上主日学校，那么他喜欢用石头扔麻雀也没什么大不了的。”的确，在短时间内，暂时看来，这样说是对的。因为，如果人们下定决心做正确的事，那么他们最终就会喜欢上做这件事。但是只有当他们已经喜欢上做这件事的时候，才会处于一种正确的道德状态；而一旦他们不喜欢这事而去做它，就会处于一种不道德的状态。如果某人总是想着壁橱里的酒瓶子，那么他的身体就是不健康的，尽管他奋力地抑制着自己的渴望；相反，如果某人真心地喜欢早晨喝水，晚上喝酒，而且每一样都在喝的时间和数量上恰到好处，那么他就是健康的。真正教育的全部目标就是不仅仅让人们做正确的事，还要喜欢做正确的事：——不仅仅勤劳，还要热爱劳动——不仅仅博学，还要热爱知识——不仅仅纯洁，还要热爱纯净——不仅仅公道，还要追逐、渴望着正义。

但是你们可能会问，“对于，诸如绘画、雕塑、家具、建筑等的外部装饰的喜爱也是一种道德品质吗？”是的，毫无疑问，如果这是一种健康而固定的喜爱的话。只有对好的绘画或是雕塑的品味才称得上是一种道德品质，而不包括对于所有绘画和雕塑的品味。这里我们不得不再一次定义“好”这个词。我所谓的“好”并不是指聪明，或是博学，或是完成的难度大。比如说，坦尼尔斯画了一幅酒鬼们在赌桌上争吵的场面的画；这就是一幅很聪明的画，在此类题材的绘画中无出其右者；但是这仍旧是一幅非常低级和邪恶的画作。因为这幅画表达的是一种对于道德败坏的事物，进行长时间的苦思冥想所带来的快乐，而这种快乐具有一种“粗野的”或“不道德的”品质。从深层次的角度看，这是一种“坏品味”——是对于魔鬼的品味。而另一方面，比如说，一幅提香的画，或是一尊希腊的雕塑，或是一枚希腊的钱币，或是一张特纳的风景画等，传达的则是一种对于好的和完美的事物，进行长时间的苦思冥想所带来的快乐。这是一种完全高尚的道德品质——是对于天使的品味。所有艺术所带来的快乐，所有对于艺术的热爱，都会转变成对于那些配得上爱的事物的单纯的爱。这种“配得上”是一种我们称作“可爱”（loveliness）的品质——我们应当发明一个反义词，可恨（hateliness），来指那些应当受到痛恨的事物；我们选择爱这或是爱那，并不是什么无关痛痒、可有可无的事情；而是一种决定了我们所有本质的关键因素。我们喜欢什么决定了我们是什么样的人，也标志着我们是什么样的人；传授其品味就不可避免地要形成其性格。

有一天我在舰队街走过，心里正想着这个事儿的时候，突然看到书店橱窗里展出的一本书。书名是这样的——《论在社会各阶级中传播品味的必要性》。“天哪，”我心想，“这位探讨社会阶级问题的朋友，如果你已经将品味传播开了，那么哪来的社会各阶级呢？我认为，爱你所爱的人一定跟你同属一个阶级。这一点毋庸置疑。如果你愿意的话，可以让他转行干其他的工作；但是，由于置身其中的环境发生了变化，他会和你一样厌恶这个工作。你可能发现一位拾荒者或是小商贩喜欢读《新兴门监狱日志》，而且喜欢听“啪！黄鼠狼走开了”这首儿歌。但是，你能让他喜欢读但丁的诗歌并且聆听贝多芬的交响乐吗？但愿你乐意对他进行教导；如果你真的成功了，那么他就会变成一位绅士，而且再也不会重操旧业，回到街上去叫卖了。”

而且，如果今晚我有时间的话，我会证明给你们看，一个民族的艺术，如果不是因为低劣或是贫乏而清晰一贯地传达出罪恶或是虚弱之声的话，那么这个民族是不会受到任何罪恶或是虚弱的影响的；没有哪个民族的美德，无论大小，不是通过其全部的艺术彰显出来的。这种艺术是由人们在其生活环境中获得了美德以后才创造出来。这里，我就以你们英国人持久和耐心的勇气这一美德为例，作一说明。在当今的英国只有一种艺术与之有关——这就是炼铁。你们都很了解如何浇铸和锻造铁器。那么，在你们生起的烈焰所熔化的矿石中，在你们建造的熔炉边所锻造的铁块中，在那些铁板之上，你们的勇气和忍耐不是被永远地写就了吗？这种美德不单单是用钢笔写就，而且是镌刻在铁卷之上。再举一个有关罪恶的例子——嫉妒的罪恶。这一罪恶不但属于英国，欧洲，全世界，而且属于所有在宇宙苍穹中，带着地狱的气息转动发光的大千世界。嫉妒心将竞争带进商业，将背叛带进议会，将无耻带进战争——是它让你们身披铠甲，利剑出鞘；是它使得你们和你们的邻国丧失了赖以生存的基础；是它，到了最后，使得你们两个伟大民族的人民大众——他们自诩是世界文明的先锋，身体力行地、机关算尽地实现了，切维厄特丘陵地区野蛮的边境骑兵曾经做过的事——

“他们用钢铁的手套

切开肉片

通过头盔的裂缝饮尽鲜血；”——

难道这种民族的羞耻和心灵的卑鄙不是清清楚楚地写在你们盔甲上的，恰恰是自己右手亲自打造的，每一颗铆钉上了吗？

朋友们，我不知道这事是应当被视为更可笑还是更悲哀，抑或是既可笑又悲哀。假如，不是各位邀请我，而是某位绅士以个人的名义邀请我。这位绅士家住在郊区的一幢房子里，他的庭院与邻居的庭院仅以一排果树的围墙隔开；他邀请我来是为了向我咨询一下如何布置他的客厅。我环视四周，发现屋里的墙面上缺少装饰；我想如果贴上这样或是那样的壁纸可能比较合适——天花板上这里或是那里可能需要一点湿壁画——窗户上需要挂上锦缎的窗帘或是什么类似的东西。“啊，”我的雇主说道，“锦缎的窗帘，没错！这真是太好了，不过你知道现在我还买不起这类的东西！”“可是你的收入相当高呀！”“嗯，是的，”我的朋友说道，“但是你知道吗，现在我几乎把所有的收入都花在买捕兽夹上了。”“捕兽夹！捕谁呀？”“哎呀，当然是墙那边的那个家伙啦：我们是非常好的朋友，最重要的朋友；但是我们不得不把捕兽夹放在墙的两侧；没有这些捕兽夹和弹簧枪我们是不可能友好相处的。最糟糕的是，我们都是聪明人；每天我们都会发现对方布置了新的夹子或是炮管儿之类的东西；总共算起来，我们每年都要花一千五百万英镑买夹子；而且我不知道怎样才能把这一数目削减下来。”对于两位绅士来说这是多么滑稽的生活状态呀！但是对于两个国家来说，这就不光是滑稽的问题了。如果疯人院里只住了一个疯子，那是很滑稽的；如果你们圣诞节的哑剧里只有一个小丑，那也是滑稽的；但是如果整个世界的人都变成了小丑，用自己的鲜血而不是朱砂将身体染红，那可就不是什么滑稽的事儿了。

请注意，我知道很多这种事情都是在做游戏，并且是出于自愿。你们不知道怎样做才能让自己激动万分：猎狐和打板球并不能伴随你度过这漫漫人生。当你们还是学童的时候，你们就喜欢玩儿玩具枪，而来复枪和安氏炮不过是比玩具枪制作得更精良而已：但最糟糕的是，你们儿时的游戏，对于麻雀来讲可不是游戏；你们现在的游戏，对于小鸟一般的弱国来说也不是游戏；而对于那些黑鹰，如果我没说错的话，你们是不大敢向它们开火的。

我必须回到演讲的主题。请相信我，无须更多的例证，自始至终，每一个国家的罪恶或是美德都书写在其艺术之中了：早期希腊的军事才能；晚期意大利的淫荡；托斯卡纳的预言宗教；威尼斯光辉灿烂的人性力量，如此等等。今晚我没有时间对此一一加以论述（以前我曾经在别处论及此事）；但是我会以一种更为认真的态度将这一原则应用到我们自身。

我注意到，在所有建在曾经的荒山上的新建筑中，大部分的教堂与学校是同工厂和住宅混建在一起的；而且我注意到，教堂和学校的建筑大都是哥特式的，而住宅和工厂则一概不是哥特式的。请允许我问一下，这到底是为什么呢？因为，请记住，这是一种当代才有的现象。哥特式建筑发明之初，不单单教堂是哥特式的，民房也是如此；在意大利风格取代了哥特式风格之后，教堂和民房又都变成了意大利式的。如果安特卫普大教堂有一座尖顶，那么布鲁塞尔的市政厅就一定有一座钟楼；如果伊尼戈·琼斯建了一座意大利风格的白厅，那么克里斯托弗·霍恩爵士就一定要建一座意大利风格的圣保罗大教堂。但是现在，你们在一种建筑风格的房子里面生活却在另外一种建筑风格的教堂里祈祷。你们这样做是为了什么呢？我是不是可以理解为，你们想要将建筑的风格变回哥特式的，所以就拿教堂做实验，因为在教堂建筑方面出了错无关紧要呢？或是说，我是不是可以这样理解，你们认为哥特式是一种极端神圣和美丽的建筑风格，所以就像上等的乳香只能与圣体盒一起使用一样，哥特式的建筑风格也只能服务于你们的宗教仪式？如果你们确实是这样想的，尽管这初听起来似乎很得体、很虔诚，然而你们会发现，说到底，这件事恰好说明了你们将自己的生活同宗教分割开来。

想一想吧，这个事实有着多么广泛的意义；要记住，不仅仅是你们，现如今所有的英国人都是如此行事。

你们都已经习惯了把教堂叫做“上帝的房子。”我见过，在很多教堂门口的上方都雕刻着这样的铭文：“这里是上帝的居所而且是天堂之门。”那么，请留意一下，这句铭文是从哪儿来的，是在什么地方第一次说起的。曾经有个男孩儿离开家，步行了很长的路去拜访他的叔叔：他必须穿过一座渺无人烟的荒山；这就像你们自己的孩子去拜访他家住卡莱尔的叔叔时，不得不穿越一片荒野一样。第二或是第三天，你们的孩子走到了位于霍斯和布拉夫之间的某个地方，在黄昏时分走到了沼泽地中间。地上多是石块和泥沼；那天晚上他一步也走不动了。于是他便在沃恩赛德山躺下来睡觉，在那儿他最多能找到几块石头垫在头下；——这地方太荒凉了，除了石头以外什么都没有。就在那儿，在辽阔夜空的笼罩下，他这样躺着，做了一个梦；梦里他看见地上矗立起一把梯子一直伸向天空，天使们通过梯子上下往来。从梦中醒来后，他说道，“这个地方多么可怕呀；不过，这里就是上帝的房子，这里就是天堂的大门。”这个地方，注意；不是这个教堂；不是这座城市；甚至不是这块他留作纪念的石头——他曾经枕着睡觉的那块打火石。但是，是这个地方；这个狂风肆虐的沃恩赛德山坡；这块坑洼的，流水侵蚀、飞雪拍打的高山沼泽地；任何一个上帝放下梯子的地方！你们怎样才能知道这地方会是在哪儿呢？或者说，尽管你们已经随时待命出发，你们怎样才能确定它的位置呢？你们知道下一次的闪电会落在哪儿吗？你们确实部分地知道；因为你们能够引导闪电；但是你们对于圣灵的降临却无从引导，它就如同那闪电一样从东方划向西方。

但是长久以来，人们一直对于这句有力的铭文进行傲慢的曲解，认为它仅仅是指教堂所发挥的作用。其实，这只不过是我们退化到粗俗的犹太教教义之中的、不可胜数的例证之一。我们管教堂叫做“庙宇。”可是，你们清楚地知道它们并不是庙宇。它们从来没有，也永远不会有什么与庙宇有关的东西。它们是“会堂”——“聚会的地方”——你们大家聚集在一起的地方；如果你们不这样称呼它，就会再次误解另一处强有力的经文——“你，当你祈祷的时候，不要像那些伪君子一样；因为他们喜欢在教堂里祈祷”，“他们在众目睽睽下祈祷。但是你，当你祈祷的时候，要进入密室，关上门，向你的圣父祷告，”——就是说，不是在教堂的圣坛或是侧廊里，而是“秘密地”祷告。

现在，你们感到，我在跟你们说这些话的时候——我知道你们会感到——好像我企图要剥夺你们教堂的荣誉。其实并非如此；我是想向你们表明，你们的住房和你们的群山一样拥有荣誉；这并不是说教堂不神圣——而是说整个世界都是神圣的。我想要你们感到，在各种各样的思想中隐藏了多么草率、多么固执、多么具有传染性的罪孽。受这些思想的影响，你们将教堂称作唯一的“圣地”，而将你们的家园称为“渎神之所”；而且，为了将自己同异教徒区分开来，你们便将家中的诸神扔到地上，却不是在诸多虚弱的家庭守护神当中，确认你们全能的上帝为自己唯一的家庭守护神。

“但是所有这一切与我们的交易所又有什么关系呢？”你们会不耐烦地问我。亲爱的朋友，这与交易所有着千丝万缕的联系；因为要解决外在的和细小的问题，首先就要解决内在的和巨大的问题；如果你们是因为对我曾经写过的东西感兴趣而邀请我来这里演讲的话，那么你们就一定知道，我对于建筑的论述都是为了说明这一点。我的那本，我称之为《七盏明灯》的书，就是要证明某些正确的情绪状态和道德感受是所有好的建筑建造出来，无一例外所依靠的魔力。《威尼斯的石头》那本书从始至终只有一个目的，就是要证明威尼斯的哥特式建筑出现于，并且其所有的特点都表明了，一种纯净的民族信仰和家庭美德；而威尼斯文艺复兴时期的建筑则出现于，并且其所有特点都表明了，一种隐藏的民族的背信和家庭的堕落。现在，你们问我使用什么风格建造交易所最好，我怎么回答呢，我知道有两种建筑的风格，但是我要问问你们——你们是想作为基督徒还是想作为异教徒兴建交易所呢？进一步来讲——你们是想作为诚实的基督徒还是诚实的异教徒兴建呢？你们能彻底地、毫不掩饰地告诉我是前者还是后者吗？你们不喜欢被问及如此无礼的问题。但是我不得不问；因为这些问题比建交易所本身还要重要得多；而且，如果这些问题马上就能得到回答的话，建交易所的事立刻就可以敲定了。但是，在我继续追问之前，我必须请求你们允许我阐明一点。

在过去的著作中，我一直致力于证明，好的建筑，从根本上来说，是具有宗教精神的——是虔信和美德的产物，而与异教徒和堕落的人们无关。但是在这一论述过程当中，我不得不同时证明，好的建筑并不是教会的建筑。人们认为宗教只是神职人员的事而与自己无关，所以一听到有什么与“宗教”有关的事，就立刻想到这一定要靠教士完成；所以我不得不采取一种介于两种错误观点之间的立场，以看上去似乎有些自相矛盾的方式与它们对抗。好的建筑是善良和虔信的人们的作品；因此，你们说，至少有些人会说，“好的建筑从根本上来讲，一定是僧侣的作品，而非俗人的创造。”错了——彻底错了；好的建筑一直以来都是出自平民百姓，而非教会人士。“什么，”你们会说，“那些光辉绚烂的大教堂——欧洲的骄傲——难道不是它们的建造者们创造了哥特式建筑吗？”非也；相反，正是他们破坏了哥特式建筑。哥特式建筑形成于贵族的城堡和市民的街道。它是由勤劳的公民和尚武的国王们，以其思想、双手和权力打造的。而在僧侣们的手里，哥特式建筑成为了帮助他们宣扬迷信的工具：当迷信演变成为一种美丽的疯狂，当欧洲的精英们在修道院里日渐憔悴、美梦破灭，暴跳如雷却在圣战中一败涂地的时候，——通过这种邪恶信仰产生的暴怒和徒劳的战争，哥特式建筑进入到了它最为美丽，最为怪诞，而最终最为愚蠢的梦境；并且在那些梦境中迷失了自我。

现在，我希望，当我要谈及今晚的核心思想的时候，你们不至于对我产生误解。我再次重申，每一座伟大的国家建筑都是其伟大的国家宗教的结果和体现。这些建筑不能东一座，西一座——要么它们到处都是，要么一座也没有。这些建筑不是牧师们的专利——不是神学教条的明证——也不是牧师们发明的象形文字；它们是一个受到坚定的、共同的目标所鼓舞的民族的强有力的语言，这个民族坚定且共同地宣誓，效忠于一个不容置疑的上帝所制定的明晰的律法。

迄今为止，欧洲的建筑出现过三种截然不同的流派。我谈欧洲，是因为亚洲和非洲的建筑完全属于其他的种族和气候条件，所以这里讨论的问题与它们无关；不过，顺便说一句，我可以肯定地告诉你们，在埃及、叙利亚和印度被认为是好的建筑的因由，同样适用于对于博斯普鲁斯海峡这边的欧洲的建筑进行评判。我们欧洲人曾经有过三种伟大的信仰：在古希腊，我们崇拜智慧和力量之神；在中世纪，我们崇拜审判和抚慰之神；在文艺复兴时期，我们崇拜自豪与美丽之神：我们曾经有过的这三种信仰都已经成为了历史，然而现在，我们英国人又有了第四种信仰以及我们自己的神，对此我有问题要问你们。然而，我必须首先解释一下这三种旧的信仰。

首先，我重申，希腊人从根本上来说崇拜智慧之神；所以无论什么东西与他们的信仰产生了矛盾，——对于犹太人来说就是一块绊脚石，而对于希腊人来说就是愚蠢。

希腊人的第一个有关神性的观念来自“天”（day）这个词，就是天神，天启者朱庇特。这在我们英文单词“Di-umal”和“Di-vine”——天之神（the God of Day）中依稀可见。雅典娜是朱庇特的女儿，但更是智慧之神的女儿，她周身充满了智慧。我们只是凭借最近的研究才开始弄明白隐蔽在雅典娜身上的象征符号之下的深层含义，在这儿我可以简要地介绍一下。在有关雅典娜的最好的雕塑中大都可以看到这样的形象：她手擎着宙斯盾，身披着缝有蛇形吊穗儿的斗篷，左臂折叠做出保护的动作；而她盾牌上面的戈尔贡则主要象征了阴森的恐怖和悲伤（她能将看到她眼睛的人变成石头）——这些都是最外在和表面的知识。正是这种苦涩、冷酷和悲痛的知识，将成年人和儿童的心灵区别开来。恐怖、纷争、危险和蔑视产生于知识的残缺；而力量和和平则来自完美的知识，它正是由获得了神启的雅典娜所赋予的，其标志就是她头上所戴的、象征和平的橄榄枝、和手中所握的、象征力量的无坚不摧的长矛。

这就是古希腊人对于最纯粹的神性的认识；他们每一处生活的习惯，每一种艺术的形式都来源于这种对于光明的、平静的和无法抗拒的智慧的追寻；这使得他们，作为人，每时每刻都决心行正确之事，勇气之事；[1]他们做事情从来都不会心血来潮或是抱定最终的希望；因为他们知道失败将无法得到安慰，而罪孽也不可能得到赦免，所以他们总是秉持坚决而又自我克制的意志力行事。于是古希腊的建筑便呈现出一种准确的、明快的、清晰的形象，和一种从容不迫的气质。

接下来便是欧洲的伟大的基督教信仰。从根本上来说它是一种起安慰作用的信仰。它的主要教义就是罪孽的赦免；正因为如此，在基督教的某些发展阶段才会经常出现这样的情形，就是罪孽和疾病本身在某种程度上被加以颂扬，似乎越是有可供治愈的罪孽和疾病，就越是能显示出治愈过程的神圣。这一教义在艺术中所造成的实际影响就是，人们对于罪孽和疾病的不断的沉思，以及对于从罪孽和疾病中获得净化时的状态的不断的冥想；因此我们便在一种忧郁和渴望相混合的情绪下构思我们的建筑。它一半是严苛，一半是华丽；它服从于我们所有的需求和想象，并且，就像我们自身有强有弱一样，它也同我们一起或强或弱。所有的建筑都是如此，当卑劣的人们修建它的时候，它就是最卑劣的；当高贵的人们修建它的时候，它就是最高贵的。

现在请注意，这两种信仰——古希腊的和中世纪的信仰——都由于它们自身主要目的的谬误而消亡了。古希腊对于智慧的信仰消亡于一种对其错误的热爱与追求——其智慧已成为科学的羁绊。中世纪对于安慰的信仰消亡于一种错误的安慰——通过谎言赦免罪孽。正是出卖赦罪符才终结了中世纪的信仰；而且更进一步讲，正是中世纪末期对于赦罪符的出卖才标志着基督教的虚伪。在纯净的基督教中，只有结束罪孽才能赦免罪孽；然而虚伪的基督教却通过向罪孽妥协将其赦免。这当中有很多向罪孽妥协的方法。我们英国人，无论是在低教会派还是在高教会派中，都有偷偷购买赦罪符的、漂亮的小手段，比起约翰·泰臣曾经的勾当要狡猾得多了。

第三种是对于快乐的信仰。整个欧洲都置身于奢华之中，最终以死亡结束。先是每个沙龙都举办的假面舞会，然后是每个广场都竖起来的断头台。所有这三种崇拜都诞生于恢弘的庙宇之中。希腊人崇拜智慧，于是修建了帕特农神庙——贞洁女的庙宇。中世纪的人们崇拜安慰，于是也修建了贞洁女的庙宇——然而供奉的是救赎女神。文艺复兴运动者崇拜各式的美，于是修建了凡尔赛宫和梵蒂冈宫。那么最后，请你们告诉我，我们崇拜什么，我们修建了什么呢？

大家知道，我们总是在谈论真实的、活跃的、持续的和民族的信仰；人们在有生之年藉此信仰而行动；而不是在死后将其作为谈资。然而，确实有一种名义上的宗教，我们拿出十分之一的财产来供奉它，花七分之一的时间来打理它；但是还有一种实用的、严肃的宗教，为它我们投入了十分之九的财产和七分之六的时间。我们对于这种名义上的宗教争论不休，但是对于这种实用的宗教却是意见一致；我想你们一定同意，我把这种实用宗教的当家女神大致地描述为“进步女神”或是“不列颠市场女神。”雅典人有“市场雅典娜”；不过她在雅典诸神中处于从属的地位，而我们的不列颠市场女神则是我们的主神。当然，你们所有的宏大建筑也都是为她而建。你们已经很久没有修建过伟大的主教堂了；如果此时我建议在周围的这些山冈之上选择一处修建主教堂，并把它打造成为像雅典卫城那样的建筑，那么你们一定会耻笑我。但是你们的铁路路基要比巴比伦的城墙更为宽阔；你们的铁路站房要比以佛所的庙宇更为宽敞，而且数不胜数；你们的烟囱，要比教堂的尖顶牢固得多，昂贵得多！你们的港口码头；你们的货栈；你们的交易所！——所有这一切都是你们为“进步”女神而修建的；她已经塑造了你们的建筑，只要你们崇拜她，她将继续如此；所以，你们现在来问我如何给她建造庙宇简直就是徒劳无益；因为你们比我知道的更多。

事实上，依据某些理论，确实有可能为交易所设计出令人信服的、好的建筑——就是说，如果确实有什么有关交易的、代表性的英雄事迹，能够雕刻在你们建筑的外墙之上的话。因为，你们知道，所有美丽的建筑必须装饰以雕塑或是绘画；而你们必须有适合雕塑或是绘画的题材。而且迄今为止，世界各国已经形成了共识，就是雕塑或是绘画的唯一合适的题材就是某种类型的英雄主义。即使是在瓦罐和酒壶上，希腊人也会刻画上一幅赫拉克勒斯杀死狮子，或是阿波罗杀死毒蛇，或是酒神巴克斯杀死忧郁的巨人和失魂落魄的俗人的画儿。在他们的庙宇中，希腊人会描绘其伟大的勇士为建立国家而战斗的场景，或是诸神勇斗妖魔的场面。基督徒会在他们的房子里和庙宇中雕刻上天使战胜魔鬼的情形；或是以生命为代价扭转乾坤的殉道者：我想，这个题材对于我们的交易所并不合适。上帝非但没有明令他的追随者们可以在建筑的外墙上刻上有关交易的雕塑，相反，还强烈地表示，并不喜欢他们在建筑的内部从事交易的活动。然而在交易活动中似乎确实存在着英雄主义；所有的商业活动都可能是在出售圣灵，而不是亵渎神灵。我一直以来都很奇怪，为什么人们从来都不认为英雄主义是一种给人们提供食物或是衣服的活动；相反却认为英雄主义就是强占人们的粮食并且剥光他们的衣服。在所有的时代，武力的滥用都被看做英雄的行为；但是卖衣服，不管是新还是旧，从来都没有被认为具有什么崇高的性质。然而，我不明白，为饥饿者提供食物，为衣不蔽体者提供衣服怎么就会成为卑劣的勾当，即使有时这些活动规模巨大，受益者甚众。如果有谁能够创造性地把征服的观念与做买卖结合起来就好了！这样的话，假定在某个地方有某个冥顽不化的种族拒绝接受舒适的生活，而某人就会以为其提供强制性的舒适而感到自豪！[2]而且，这不就是传说中的，以礼物而不是兵戎“占领一个国家”吗？如果抢夺田地里的丰收果实与在田地中播种耕耘同样都是胜利的话，那么想一想，还有谁会修建村庄，而不是去“占领”村庄呢？所有形式的英雄主义，不都是在做这些前人栽树后人乘凉的事儿吗？你们还拿不准谁最强大吗？毫无疑问，铁锹和刀剑一样有力。谁最明智呢？谋划商业要比策动战争更为聪明。谁最勇敢呢？商业活动中总有需要挑战的因素，它们比人类更强大，像人类一样残忍。

军人职业中唯一绝对的、旁人难以做到的英雄行为就是他们做事只有很少的报酬，而且是固定的收入；而你们掮客和商人，以及其他某些似乎是忙于慈善营生的人们，则喜欢从买卖中多多赚钱——而且是发横财。我永远都不能理解为什么一位游侠会不计报酬地置身险地，而一位游贩却总要唯利是图；为什么人们会不求回报地以身犯险，却从不愿意把缎带卖得更便宜点；为什么人们会狂热地发动圣战去收复一位死去神灵的坟墓，却从来不愿意出趟门满足某位生者的订单；为什么人们愿意赤脚走到任何什么地方为自己的信仰祈祷，却总是非有巨额的贿赂不会对其加以奉行；为什么人们愿意自掏腰包派发免费的福音书，却从不会提供免费的鱼和面包。

如果你们依据军队的原则行事，只为获取固定的工资收入而经商，并且为国家提供给养；就像士兵以最好的火药为人民服务一样，你们也为人们提供最好的食物和最好的布料；那么我就会在你们交易所的墙上雕刻一些值得观赏的东西。但是目前我只能建议在交易所的雕带上悬挂上钱包；并且为了粘贴票据的方便，把它立柱的底座建得宽阔一些。在交易所最里面的密室里竖起一尊不列颠市场女神的雕像，建议在她头顶插上松鸡的羽毛作为装饰，以显示出为正义而战的勇气和对于猎物的兴趣；然后，再在雕像的脖颈处刻上金色的铭文，“她不像松鸡一样孵蛋。”[3]接下来，可以用织工的卷轴作为她的长矛；再在她的盾牌上雕刻以不是圣乔治的十字架，而是剪了一半毛的米兰公猪，和位于田野中间的，富庶的革尼撒勒城，并且辅之以铭文，“这里是最好的市场”；[4]她皮质的甲胄要在胸前折叠成钱包的形状，上面撕开三十个投币口，以便从此塞进钱去，每个投币口代表每个月中的一天。我敢肯定，经过如此装饰，人们对你们的交易所和其中的女神一定赞赏有加。

然而，我要指出的是，你们的女神具有某些奇怪的特征。她与伟大的希腊和中世纪的诸神在以下两个方面存在着根本的不同：第一，她被赋予的力量所能持续的时间；第二，这一力量的影响范围。

首先，看一看她的力量所能持续的时间吧。

就像基督教的安慰圣灵（或是安慰者）不断地增加安慰一样，古希腊的智慧女神也会不断地释放出更多的智慧。毫无疑问，他们的安慰和智慧是没有限度的，也是不会中途停止的。但是对于你们的市场女神来说，这正是最为重要的问题所在。发展进步——但是去向何方呢？聚敛钱财——但是多少是够呢？你们只要不断地敛财——而从不花钱吗？果真如此的话，但愿你们喜爱自己的女神，因为即便是没有费劲儿地向她朝拜，我也过得和你们一样富裕。可是如果你们不去花钱，自然有别人会去花的，而且肯定会。正是基于此（在诸多类似的错误中此项最甚），我曾经大胆地宣称，你们所谓的政治经济学其实并不是什么科学；因为，换句话说，它忽略了对于商业中的最重要的分支的研究——对于消费的研究。因为最终来讲，你们必须花掉挣到的钱。你们收获了谷物之后，是要把英国埋在谷粒堆下面，还是最终会把它们吃掉呢？你们挣得了黄金之后，是用它盖你们的房顶，还是用它铺你们的街道呢？这当然也是一种花钱的方式，但是，如果你们仅仅是为了储存更多的黄金，我愿意给你们更多的黄金；如果你们能告诉我拿黄金干什么用，那么我就会给你们所有想要的黄金——要多少给多少。你们将会得到成千上万的金条；千百万堆积如山的黄金：你们有地方存放它们吗？你们会在皮利翁金山上再堆上一座奥林匹斯银山，然后压得奥萨山看上去就像是一团让人厌恶的肉瘤吗？你们会觉得从这样的山上流淌下来的雨水和露珠会比从上帝为你们而造的，满是玄武岩和苔藓的山峦上流淌下的雨水和露珠更为神圣吗？这样说来你们所要占有的并不是黄金呀！那是什么呢？美钞吗？不，也不是。那是什么呢？大写的1后面的零吗？不，你们不可以练习写零，而且想写多少就写多少！每天早晨，在大账本上写上一个小时的零，到了晚上的时候就对自己说，我今天的身价比昨天又多了许多零。这样行吗？那么，请以财神普路托斯的名义告诉我，你们到底想要什么？不是黄金，不是美钞，不是大写的1后面的零，还会是什么呢？这样，你们就会不得不回答说，“不，我们想要的，也许说不太清楚，是金钱的价值吧。”好吧，那么这价值是什么呢？就让你们的进步女神找到它，并且学着在那里驻留吧。

第二，还有一个有关这位进步女神的问题需要问，这就是她力量的影响范围。

雅典娜和圣母马利亚是全世界的雅典娜和圣母马利亚。她们可以教化所有的人，安慰所有的人。但是，仔细查看一下你们的进步女神的力量的本质，就会发现，作为女神，她并不保佑所有的人取得进步，而只是保佑某些人取得进步。这一点区别很重要，甚至于很致命。请想一想，这位女神所召唤并且力主的，同时也是你们理想中的，人民的生活状态是怎样的。上次来的时候，我问过你们这一理想的生活状态是什么，可是你们没有回答我。现在，我可以告诉你们什么是这一理想的生活状态了吗？

你们理想中的生活状态就是，我认为，要生活在一个惬意的、绵延起伏的世界上，地下随处都埋藏着铁矿和煤矿。在每一处舒适的坡地上都建有一座漂亮的公馆，它带有两座厢房；还有马厩和马车库；一所大小适中的庄园；一个大花园和几间温室；还有一辆乘坐舒适的马车在灌木丛下面穿行。在这幢公馆里面，生活着受到你们女神眷顾的忠实信徒；他们是一位英国绅士以及他优雅的夫人和漂亮的孩子们；这位绅士总是能给夫人提供化妆间和珠宝，给女儿们提供漂亮的舞裙，给儿子们提供猎犬，给自己提供在苏格兰高地的狩猎权。在坡地的底部是一座工厂；它至少有四分之一英里长，两端各有一台蒸汽机，中间还有两台；竖起的烟囱足有三百英尺高。工厂里长期雇用着八百到一千名工人，他们从不喝酒、从不罢工，每个星期天都去做礼拜，而且说起话来总是彬彬有礼。

概括地、就其主要的特征来说，难道这不就是你们为自己设计的生活吗？如果从上面看过去，这一生活确实非常美好；然而如果从下面看过来，就根本谈不上什么美好了。因为，请注意，对于某个家庭来说，这一神灵确实是进步女神，而对于其他一千个家庭来说，她则是退步女神。“不对，”你们会说，“所有的人都有机会。”没错，就像是每个人都有中奖的机会一样，每个人也都有抓空的机会。“哎呀！抓阄的时候凭借的不是技能和智慧，而是撞大运呀。”那又如何！当权力已经由拳头的力量变为头脑的力量的时候，你们还认为“弱肉强食，胜者为王”的古老法则是公正的吗？你们不欺压弱势的妇女和儿童，难道就可以利用男人们的愚蠢吗？“那倒不是，不过最后一点，活儿一定得有人干，而且一定会有人高高在上，也一定会有人屈居底部。”就算如此，我的朋友们，活儿当然得有人干，干活儿的工头当然也得有；可是如果你们还对我写过的文章有一点点印象的话，那么就一定知道，工头们并不适合这个时代，因为他们一直在坚持统治的必要性，而对于自由则是冷嘲热讽。但是我请求大家注意，作为工头或是工作的管理者，与从工作中获利之间，存在着很大的不同。这就像是，你是一支军队的将军，却并不见得就应该取得军队所缴获的财宝或是土地，（如果它是为财宝和土地而战的话）同样，你是一国之君，却并不见得就应该消费掉整个国家的劳动果实。相反，真正的国王都无一例外地反其道而行之，他们都尽量少地取得国家的财富。这一点是检验真正的王权无可争辩的试金石。那个戴着王冠的人生活得简单、勇敢、朴素吗？如是之，他可能就是一位国王。他的身上戴满了宝石，桌上摆满了美味佳肴吗？如果是，他就一定不是一位国王。他有可能成为所罗门那样的国王，但条件是他要同人民共享荣耀。所罗门不仅仅用黄金搭建自己的宫殿，而且用它修建耶路撒冷。但是，即便如此，这些光辉灿烂的王国也大都消失在历史的尘芥堆中了，只有真正的、高贵的劳动者管理着忠诚的劳动者的王国才会生存下去；他们共克时艰，一同建立真正的王朝。所以说，你们即便是国家的君主，也并不意味着就可以为自己聚敛属于国家的财富；同样，即便你们是国家某地的统治者，掌控着某地的全部财富——土地、工厂、矿山等，也并不意味着就可以为自己牟取所有来源于此地的物产。

你们会告诉我，不要鼓吹反对这些事情了，因为你改变不了什么的。是的，朋友们，我改变不了什么；但是你们能，而且你们应该这样做；或是有其他什么人能够而且愿意这样做。即便是好的东西也不可能拥有持久的力量，更何况是这些罪恶的东西，它们会以胜利者的姿态延续其罪恶吗？当然不会，所有的历史都表明，它们办不到。改变一定会到来；然而这改变是朝向成长还是奔向死亡则取决于我们。你们认为，帕特农神庙会在岩石上成为废墟，博尔顿小修道院会在牧场上变为瓦砾；而你们的工厂则会成为地球上所有建筑的典范，它们的轮子会永不停息，对吗？你们认为“人来人亦往”，而你们的工厂总会屹立不倒，对吗？错了；改变一定会到来，它可能好也可能坏，而决定权在你们的手中。

我知道所有这些不公平都不是人们有意为之。同时我还知道，你们都希望自己的工人们生活得好；你们为他们做了很多，而且如果知道自己的行善于己无害的话，还愿意为他们做得更多。我知道，尽管所有这些不公平和苦难都是由于一种扭曲的责任感所造成，你们还是在努力行善；然而不幸的是，你们并不知道自己的善举所针对的对象应该是谁。而且，我们的心灵都已经被现代经济学家的那句亵渎神灵的花言巧语所蒙蔽，他们说，“为我们自己而努力奋斗，最终就是为他人谋幸福。”朋友们，我们的耶稣基督可没有说过这样的话；而且我确信，这样做天理难容。实际上，应该反过来说，“为他人而努力奋斗，最终就是为自己谋幸福；”但是眼睛仅仅盯着这个问题还不够，因为异教徒们都已经超越了这种眼界。听一听一个异教徒对此是怎么说的；听一听柏拉图在他最后写下的文字当中是怎么说的，——也许不是最后的文字（对此我们无从知晓），然而可以肯定的是，这一定是他在告别人世之前所说的话——他竭尽全力对自己一生的思想进行完整的总结，并且以想象中的，伟大神灵的口谕的方式传达出来，但是他的体力和意志没能坚持到最后，所以他的话没有说完就永远地中断了。

柏拉图的话出现在一本叫做《柯里西亚斯》的对话录的结尾处。在书中他描绘了雅典早期的状况，一部分是基于真实的情况，一部分则是来自想象。书中还讲述了传说中的亚特兰蒂斯的起源、社会秩序和宗教。在描绘亚特兰蒂斯起源的时候，他构想出人类最初的完美以及最终的堕落，这与我们的圣经传统相类似——神的儿子们与人类的女儿们通婚，因为柏拉图认为最早的种族实际上是神的儿女；然后他们最终走向堕落，直到“通过他们的印记已经不能辨认出是神的孩子。”柏拉图说，这就是故事的结局；的确，“历经数代，当神性还在他们身上完整保存的时候，他们便顺从于神圣的律法，对所有同他们一样具有神性的人们显示出仁爱；因为他们的最高精神忠诚而真切，同时充满了智慧；所以他们彼此之间以礼相待，把握生命中的所有机缘；他们抛弃一切除了美德以外的东西，对于日常事务很少在意，并且对于黄金和财产从不挂心；因为他们知道，如果博爱和美德可以精进，所有这些东西都会一同增长；然而专注于物质财富的不懈追求只会让你失去它，一同失去的还有你的爱心和美德。基于这样的推理以及内心存留的神性，他们收获了一切我们曾经谈到过的伟大成就；但是当他们的神性开始减弱并且最终熄灭，与流行的世俗相融合并且被它冲淡的时候，人性最终超越了神性，于是他们不再能抵制财富的诱惑，堕入到了扭曲的、低级的生活当中去，失去了他们最为美好的荣誉；然而对于那些不能明辨是非，一心只想追逐快乐的、被蒙蔽的人们来说，他们看上去似乎既高贵又幸福，因为他们拥有过多的不义之财和权力。因此，依靠律法治国的众神之神——他目睹了一个曾经正义的民族陷入不义之境，所以要对他们施以惩戒，为的是让他们能够翻然悔悟、自我约束——便将所有的神灵召集到了自己的住所——这里是这天堂的中心，俯瞰着大地；然后对他们说”——

柏拉图的话没有说完就停止了。这位最为智慧的异教徒在最后几句话中谈到了对于财富的偶像崇拜；这是你们的偶像——它金光闪闪，高耸入云，巍然屹立在英格兰的绿色原野上，就像杜拉平原上竖立起的尼布甲尼撒王的金像一样：在所有被禁止的偶像崇拜当中，这座偶像是我们的圣主和信仰所最为反对的；它是，在任何时代和民族，那些被认为是能够传达上帝旨意的人们所全体反对的。如果你们继续将那座禁神奉为自己的主要神灵的话，那么用不了多久，你们就会失去艺术，失去科学，失去快乐。灾难即将来临；或是，比灾难更糟糕的是，世界会缓慢地腐朽和枯萎，并且最终堕入地狱。但是，如果你们能够树立某种可以为之奋斗的，真正的人生观念——一种对你们、对所有人都有益的人生观念的话；如果你们能够确定某种诚实和朴素的生存秩序的话；如果你们能够踏上并且探索那些前人开辟的，欢快的、僻静的、通往和平的智慧之路的话；[5]——然后，将个人财产升华为“公共福利”（英文：wealth＋common＝commonwealth）的话，那么你们所有的艺术、文学、日常的劳作、家庭的温暖和公民的责任就会融合在一起，在崇高的和谐中共同增长。如此，你们就知道应该如何兴修好的建筑了；你们就会不仅仅是用石头，而且是用血肉之躯兴修好的建筑；庙宇就不再是用双手建成，而是用心灵筑就；只有这种被鲜血浸染的大理石才会真正的永垂不朽。

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[1] 认为美是古希腊人崇拜或是追求的主要目标的观点是错误的。建立在深谋远虑基础之上的正确和力量才是他们孜孜以求的目标：古希腊艺术的首要特征不是美丽，而是结构设计：多利安人的阿波罗崇拜以及雅典人的处女崇拜都表明了他们对于神圣的智慧和纯洁的倾慕。对于民众的影响力仅次于这些神灵的诸神还有，酒神狄俄尼索斯和谷神克瑞斯，他们赐予人类以力量和生命；此外还有代表英雄的大力神赫拉克利斯。在古希腊的辉煌时期并没有对于维纳斯的崇拜：缪斯诸女神主要是司教授真理及其和谐之职。

[2] 我并没有开玩笑，尽管听起来像是俏皮话。【1873】

[3] 《耶利米书》，第十七章，第十一节（最好的文本在七十子希腊文本《圣经》和拉丁文《圣经》中）。“那不按正道得财的，好像松鸡抱不是自己下的蛋；到了中年，那财都必离开他，他终究成为愚顽人。”

[4] 说完整了就是，“我们已经把猪带来了”。【1873】

[5] 我猜测希伯来的圣歌仅仅是充满激情的反复吟唱，并没有如此丰富的想象力；然而，我们还是可以在读英文的时候浮想联翩、受益匪浅。

John Ruskin

The Lamp of Memory

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

The Lamp of Memory

Among the hours of his life to which the writer looks back with peculiar gratitude, as having been marked by more than ordinary fulness of joy or clearness of teaching, is one passed, now some years ago, near time of sunset, among the broken masses of pine forest which skirt the course of the Ain, above the village of Champagnole, in the Jura. It is a spot which has all the solemnity, with none of the savageness, of the Alps; where there is a sense of a great power beginning to be manifested in the earth, and of a deep and majestic concord in the rise of the long low lines of piny hills; the first utterance of those mighty mountain symphonies, soon to be more loudly lifted and wildly broken along the battlements of the Alps. But their strength is as yet restrained; and the far reaching ridges of pastoral mountain succeed each other, like the long and sighing swell which moves over quiet waters from some far off stormy sea. And there is a deep tenderness pervading that vast monotony. The destructive forces and the stern expression of the central ranges are alike withdrawn. No frost-ploughed, dust-encumbered paths of ancient glacier fret the soft Jura pastures; no splintered heaps of ruin break the fair ranks of her forest; no pale, defiled, or furious rivers send their rude and changeful ways among her rocks. Patiently, eddy by eddy, the clear green streams wind along their well-known beds; and under the dark quietness of the undisturbed pines, there spring up, year by year, such company of joyful flowers as I know not the like of among all the blessings of the earth. It was spring time, too; and all were coming forth in clusters crowded for very love; there was room enough for all, but they crushed their leaves into all manner of strange shapes only to be nearer each other. There was the wood anemone, star after star, closing every now and then into nebulae; and there was the oxalis, troop by troop, like virginal processions of the Mois de Marie, the dark vertical clefts in the limestone choked up with them as with heavy snow, and touched with ivy on the edges - ivy as light and lovely as the vine; and, ever and anon, a blue gush of violets, and cowslip bells in sunny places; and in the more open ground, the vetch, and comfrey, and mezereon, and the small sapphire buds of the Polygala Alpina, and the wild strawberry, just a blossom or two, all showered amidst the golden softness of deep, warm, amber-coloured moss. I came out presently on the edge of the ravine: the solemn murmur of its waters rose suddenly from beneath, mixed with the singing of the thrushes among the pine boughs; and, on the opposite side of the valley, walled all along as it was by grey cliffs of limestone, there was a hawk sailing slowly off their brow, touching them nearly with his wings, and with the shadows of the pines flickering upon his plumage from above; but with the fall of a hundred fathoms under his breast, and the curling pools of the green river gliding and glittering dizzily beneath him, their foam globes moving with him as he flew. It would be difficult to conceive a scene less dependent upon any other interest than that of its own secluded and serious beauty; but the writer well remembers the sudden blankness and chill which were cast upon it when he endeavoured, in order more strictly to arrive at the sources of its impressiveness, to imagine it, for a moment, a scene in some aboriginal forest of the New Continent. The flowers in an instant lost their light, the river its music; the hills became oppressively desolate; a heaviness in the boughs of the darkened forest showed how much of their former power had been dependent upon a life which was not theirs, how much of the glory of the imperishable, or continually renewed, creation is reflected from things more precious in their memories than it, in its renewing. Those ever springing flowers and ever flowing streams had been dyed by the deep colours of human endurance, valour, and virtue; and the crests of the sable hills that rose against the evening sky received a deeper worship, because their far shadows fell eastward over the iron walls of Joux, and the four-square keep of Granson.

It is as the centralization and protectress of this sacred influence, that Architecture is to be regarded by us with the most serious thought. We may live without her, and worship without her, but we cannot remember without her. How cold is all history, how lifeless all imagery, compared to that which the living nation writes, and the uncorrupted marble bears! — how many pages of doubtful record might we not often spare, for a few stones left one upon another! The ambition of the old Babel builders was well directed for this world: there are but two strong conquerors of the forgetfulness of men, Poetry and Architecture; and the latter in some sort includes the former, and is mightier in its reality: it is well to have, not only what men have thought and felt, but what their hands have handled, and their strength wrought, and their eyes beheld, all the days of their life. The age of Homer is surrounded with darkness, his very personality with doubt. Not so that of Pericles: and the day is coming when we shall confess, that we have learned more of Greece out of the crumbled fragments of her sculpture than even from her sweet singers or soldier historians. And if indeed there be any profit in our knowledge of the past, or any joy in the thought of being remembered hereafter, which can give strength to present exertion, or patience to present endurance, there are two duties respecting national architecture whose importance it is impossible to overrate: the first, to render the architecture of the day, historical; and, the second, to preserve, as the most precious of inheritances, that of past ages.

It is in the first of these two directions that Memory may truly be said to be the Sixth Lamp of Architecture; for it is in becoming memorial or monumental that a true perfection is attained by civil and domestic buildings; and this partly as they are, with such a view, built in a more stable manner, and partly as their decorations are consequently animated by a metaphorical or historical meaning.

As regards domestic buildings, there must always be a certain limitation to views of this kind in the power, as well as in the hearts, of men; still I cannot but think it an evil sign of a people when their houses are built to last for one generation only. There is a sanctity in a good man's house which cannot be renewed in every tenement that rises on its ruins: and I believe that good men would generally feel this; and that having spent their lives happily and honourably, they would be grieved, at the close of them, to think that the place of their earthly abode, which had seen, and seemed almost to sympathize in, all their honour, their gladness, or their suffering, — that this, with all the record it bare of them, and of all material things that they had loved and ruled over, and set the stamp of themselves upon — was to be swept away, as soon as there was room made for them in the grave; that no respect was to be shown to it, no affection felt for it, no good to be drawn from it by their children; that though there was a monument in the church, there was no warm monument in the hearth and house to them; that all that they ever treasured was despised, and the places that had sheltered and comforted them were dragged down to the dust. I say that a good man would fear this; and that, far more, a good son, a noble descendant, would fear doing it to his father's house. I say that if men lived like men indeed, their houses would be temples — temples which we should hardly dare to injure, and in which it would make us holy to be permitted to live; and there must be a strange dissolution of natural affection, a strange unthankfulness for all that homes have given and parents taught, a strange consciousness that we have been unfaithful to our fathers' honour, or that our own lives are not such as would make our dwellings sacred to our children, when each man would fain build to himself, and build for the little revolution of his own life only. And I look upon those pitiful concretions of lime and clay which spring up, in mildewed forwardness, out of the kneaded fields about our capital — upon those thin, tottering, foundationless shells of splintered wood and imitated stone — upon those gloomy rows of formalized minuteness, alike without difference and without fellowship, as solitary as similar — not merely with the careless disgust of an offended eye, not merely with sorrow for a desecrated landscape, but with a painful foreboding that the roots of our national greatness must be deeply cankered when they are thus loosely struck in their native ground; that those comfortless and unhonoured dwellings are the signs of a great and spreading spirit of popular discontent; that they mark the time when every man's aim is to be in some more elevated sphere than his natural one, and every man's past life is his habitual scorn; when men build in the hope of leaving the places they have built, and live in the hope of forgetting the years that they have lived; when the comfort, the peace, the religion of home have ceased to be felt; and the crowded tenements of a struggling and restless population differ only from the tents of the Arab or the Gipsy by their less healthy openness to the air of heaven, and less happy choice of their spot of earth; by their sacrifice of liberty without the gain of rest, and of stability without the luxury of change.

This is no slight, no consequenceless evil; it is ominous, infectious, and fecund of other fault and misfortune. When men do not love their hearths, nor reverence their thresholds, it is a sign that they have dishonoured both, and that they have never acknowledged the true universality of that Christian worship which was indeed to supersede the idolatry, but not the piety, of the pagan. Our God is a household God, as well as a heavenly one; He has an altar in every man's dwelling; let men look to it when they rend it lightly and pour out its ashes. It is not a question of mere ocular delight, it is no question of intellectual pride, or of cultivated and critical fancy, how, and with what aspect of durability and of completeness, the domestic buildings of a nation shall be raised. It is one of those moral duties, not with more impunity to be neglected because the perception of them depends on a finely toned and balanced conscientiousness, to build our dwellings with care, and patience, and fondness, and diligent completion, and with a view to their duration at least for such a period as, in the ordinary course of national revolutions, might be supposed likely to extend to the entire alteration of the direction of local interests. This at the least; but it would be better if, in every possible instance, men built their own houses on a scale commensurate rather with their condition at the commencement, than their attainments at the termination, of their worldly career; and built them to stand as long as human work at its strongest can be hoped to stand; recording to their children what they had been, and from what, if so it had been permitted them, they had risen. And when houses are thus built, we may have that true domestic architecture, the beginning of all other, which does not disdain to treat with respect and thoughtfulness the small habitation as well as the large, and which invests with the dignity of contented manhood the narrowness of worldly circumstance.

I look to this spirit of honourable, proud, peaceful self-possession, this abiding wisdom of contented life, as probably one of the chief sources of great intellectual power in all ages, and beyond dispute as the very primal source of the great architecture of old Italy and France. To this day, the interest of their fairest cities depends, not on the isolated richness of palaces, but on the cherished and exquisite decoration of even the smallest tenements of their proud periods. The most elaborate piece of architecture in Venice is a small house at the head of the Grand Canal, consisting of a ground floor with two storeys above, three windows in the first, and two in the second. Many of the most exquisite buildings are on the narrower canals, and of no larger dimensions. One of the most interesting pieces of fifteenth-century architecture in North Italy, is a small house in a back street, behind the marketplace of Vicenza; it bears date 1481, and the motto, Il. n'est. rose. sans. épine.; it has also only a ground floor and two storeys, with three windows in each, separated by rich flower-work, and with balconies, supported, the central one by an eagle with open wings, the lateral ones by winged griffins standing on comucopiae. The idea that a house must be large in order to be well built, is altogether of modern growth, and is parallel with the idea, that no picture can be historical, except of a size admitting figures larger than life.

I would have, then, our ordinary dwelling-houses built to last, and built to be lovely; as rich and full of pleasantness as may be, within and without; with what degree of likeness to each other in style and manner, I will say presently, under another head; but, at all events, with such differences as might suit and express each man's character and occupation, and partly his history. This right over the house, I conceive, belongs to its first builder, and is to be respected by his children; and it would be well that blank stones should be left in places, to be inscribed with a summary of his life and of its experience, raising thus the habitation into a kind of monument, and developing, into more systematic instructiveness, that good custom which was of old universal, and which still remains among some of the Swiss and Germans, of acknowledging the grace of God's permission to build and possess a quiet resting-place, in such sweet words as may well close our speaking of these things. I have taken them from the front of a cottage lately built among the green pastures which descend from the village of Grindelwald to the lower glacier: —

'Mit herzlichem Vertrauen

Hat Johannes Mooter und Maria Rubi

Dieses Haus bauen lassen.

Der liebe Gott woll uns bewahren

Vor allem Unglück und Gefahren,

Und es in Segen lassen stehn

Auf der Reise durch diese Jammerzeit

Nach dem himmlischen Paradiese,

Wo alle Fromrnen wohnen,

Da wird Gott sie belohnen

Mit der Friedenskrone

Zu alle Ewigkeit.'[*]

In public buildings the historical purpose should be still more definite. It is one of the advantages of Gothic architecture, — I use the word Gothic in the most extended sense as broadly opposed to dassical, — that it admits of a richness of record altogether unlimited. Its minute and multitudinous sculptural decorations afford means of expressing, either symbolically or literally, all that need be known of national feeling or achievement. More decoration will, indeed, be usually required than can take so elevated a character; and much, even in the most thoughtful periods, has been left to the freedom of fancy, or suffered to consist of mere repetitions of some national bearing or symbol. It is, however, generally unwise, even in mere surface ornament, to surrender the power and privilege of variety which the spirit of Gothic architecture admits; much more in important features — capitals of columns or bosses, and string courses, as of course in all confessed basreliefs. Better the rudest work that tells a story or records a fact, than the richest without meaning. There should not be a single ornament put upon great civic buildings, without some intellectual intention. Actual representation of history has in modern times been checked by a difficulty, mean indeed, but steadfast; that of unmanageable costume: nevertheless, by a sufficiently bold imaginative treatment, and frank use of symbols, all such obstacles may be vanquished; not perhaps in the degree necessary to produce sculpture in itself satisfactory, but at all events so as to enable it to become a grand and expressive element of architectural composition. Take, for example, the management of the capitals of the ducal palace at Venice. History, as such, was indeed entrusted to the painters of its interior, but every capital of its arcades was filled with meaning. The large one, the corner stone of the whole, next the entrance, was devoted to the symbolization of Abstract Justice; above it is a sculpture of the Judgment of Solomon, remarkable for a beautiful subjection in its treatment to its decorative purpose. The figures, if the subject had been entirely composed of them, would have awkwardly interrupted the line of the angle, and diminished its apparent strength; and therefore in the midst of them, entirely without relation to them, and indeed actually between the executioner and interceding mother, there rises the ribbed trunk of a massy tree, which supports and continues the shaft of the angle, and whose leaves above overshadow and enrich the whole. The capital below bears among its leafage a throned figure of Justice, Trajan doing justice to the widow, Aristotle 'che die legge,' and one or two other subjects now unintelligible from decay. The capitals next in order represent the virtues and vices in succession, as preservative or destructive of national peace and power, concluding with Faith, with the inscription 'Fides optima in Deo est.' A figure is seen on the opposite side of the capital, worshipping the sun. After these, one or two capitals are fancifully decorated with birds, and then come a series representing, first the various fruits, then the national costumes, and then the animals of the various countries subject to Venetian rule.

Now, not to speak of any more important public building, let us imagine our own India House adorned in this way, by historical or symbolical sculpture: massively built in the first place; then chased with basreliefs of our Indian battles, and fretted with carvings of Oriental foliage, or inlaid with Oriental stones; and the more important members of its decoration composed of groups of Indian life and landscape, and prominently expressing the phantasms of Hindoo worship in their subjection to the Cross. Would not one such work be better than a thousand histories? If, however, we have not the invention necessary for such efforts, or if, which is probably one of the most noble excuses we can offer for our defciency in such matters, we have less pleasure in talking about ourselves, even in marble, than the Continental nations, at least we have no excuse for any want of care in the points which insure the building's endurance. And as this question is one of great interest in its relations to the choice of various modes of decoration, it will be necessary to enter into it at some length.

The benevolent regards and purposes of men in masses seldom can be supposed to extend beyond their own generation. They may look to posterity as an audience, may hope for its attention, and labour for its praise: they may trust to its recognition of unacknowledged merit, and demand its justice for contemporary wrong. But all this is mere selfishness, and does not involve the slightest regard to, or consideration of, the interest of those by whose numbers we would fain swell the circle of our flatterers, and by whose authority we would gladly support our presently disputed claims. The idea of self-denial for the sake of posterity, of practising present economy for the sake of debtors yet unborn, of planting forests that our descendants may live under their shade, or of raising cities for future nations to inhabit, never, I suppose, efficiently takes place among publidy recognized motives of exertion. Yet these are not the less our duties; nor is our part fitly sustained upon the earth, unless the range of our intended and deliberate usefulness include, not only the companions but the successors of our pilgrimage. God has lent us the earth for our life; it is a great entail. It belongs as much to those who are to come after us, and whose names are already written in the book of creation, as to us; and we have no right, by anything that we do or neglect, to involve them in unnecessary penalties, or deprive them of benefits which it was in our power to bequeath. And this the more, because it is one of the appointed conditions of the labour of men that, in proportion to the time between the seed-sowing and the harvest, is the fulness of the fruit; and that generally, therefore, the farther off we place our aim, and the less we desire to be ourselves the witnesses of what we have laboured for, the more wide and rich will be the measure of our success. Men cannot benefit those that are with them as they can benefit those who come after them; and of all the pulpits from which human voice is ever sent forth, there is none from which it reaches so far as from the grave.

Nor is there, indeed, any present loss, in such respect, for futurity. Every human action gains in honour, in grace, in all true magnificence, by its regard to things that are to come. It is the far sight, the quiet and confident patience, that, above all other attributes, separate man from man, and near him to his Maker; and there is no action nor art, whose majesty we may not measure by this test. Therefore, when we build, let us think that we build for ever. Let it not be for present delight, nor for present use alone; let it be such work as our descendants will thank us for, and let us think, as we lay stone on stone, that a time is to come when those stones will be held sacred because our hands have touched them, and that men will say as they look upon the labour and wrought substance of them, 'see! this our fathers did for us.' For, indeed, the greatest glory of a building is not in its stones, nor in its gold. Its glory is in its Age, and in that deep sense of voicefulness, of stern watching, of mysterious sympathy, nay, even of approval or condemnation, which we feel in walls that have long been washed by the passing waves of humanity. It is in their lasting witness against men, in their quiet contrast with the transitional character of all things, in the strength which, through the lapse of seasons and times, and the decline and birth of dynasties, and the changing of the face of the earth, and of the limits of the sea, maintains its sculptured shapeliness for a time insuperable, connects forgotten and following ages with each other, and half constitutes the identity, as it concentrates the sympathy, of nations: it is in that golden stain of time, that we are to look for the real light, and colour, and preciousness of architecture; and it is not until a building has assumed this character, till it has been entrusted with the fame, and hallowed by the deeds of men, till its walls have been witnesses of suffering, and its pillars rise out of the shadows of death, that its existence, more lasting as it is than that of the natural objects of the world around it, can be gift ed with even so much as these possess, of language and of life…

Do not let us talk then of restoration. The thing is a Lie from beginning to end. You may make a model of a building as you may of a corpse, and your model may have the shell of the old walls within it as your cast might have the skeleton, with what advantage I neither see nor care: but the old building is destroyed, and that more totally and mercilessly than if it had sunk into a heap of dust, or melted into a mass of clay: more has been gleaned out of desolated Nineveh than ever will be out of rebuilt Milan. But, it is said, there may come a necessity for restoration! Granted. Look the necessity full in the face, and understand it on its own terms. It is a necessity for destruction. Accept it as such, pull the building down, throw its stones into neglected comers, make ballast of them, or mortar, if you will; but do it honestly, and do not set up a Lie in their place. And look that necessity in the face before it comes, and you may prevent it. The principle of modern times, (a principle which, I believe, at least in France, to be systematically acted on by the masons, in order to find themselves work, as the abbey of St Ouen was pulled down by the magistrates of the town by way of giving work to some vagrants,) is to neglect buildings first, and restore them afterwards. Take proper care of your monuments, and you will not need to restore them. A few sheets of lead put in time upon a roof, a few dead leaves and sticks swept in time out of a water-course, will save both roof and walls from ruin. Watch an old building with an anxious care; guard it as best you may, and at any cost, from every influence of dilapidation. Count its stones as you would jewels of a crown; set watches about it as if at the gates of a besieged city; bind it together with iron where it loosens; stay it with timber where it declines; do not care about the unsightliness of the aid: better a crutch than a lost limb; and do this tenderly, and rever ently, and continually, and many a generation will still be born and pass away beneath its shadow. Its evil day must come at last; but let it come declaredly and openly, and let no dishonouring and false substitute deprive it of the funeral offices of memory.

Of more wanton or ignorant ravage it is vain to speak; my words will not reach those who commit them[1], and yet, be it heard or not, I must not leave the truth unstated, that it is again no question of expediency or feeling whether we shall preserve the buildings of past times or not. We have no right whatever to touch them. They are not ours. They belong partly to those who built them, and partly to all the generations of mankind who are to follow us. The dead have still their right in them: that which they laboured for, the praise of achievement or the expression of religious feeling, or whatsoever else it might be which in those buildings they intended to be permanent, we have no right to obliterate. What we have ourselves built, we are at liberty to throw down; but what other men gave their strength and wealth and life to accomplish, their right over does not pass away with their death; still less is the right to the use of what they have left vested in us only. It belongs to all their successors. It may hereafter be a subject of sorrow, or a cause of injury, to millions, that we have consulted our present convenience by casting down such buildings as we choose to dispense with. That sorrow, that loss, we have no right to inflict. Did the cathedral of Avranches belong to the mob who destroyed it, any more than it did to us, who walk in sorrow to and fro over its foundation? Neither does any building whatever belong to those mobs who do violence to it. For a mob it is, and must be always; it matters not whether enraged, or in deliberate folly; whether countless, or sitting in committees; the people who destroy anything causelessly are a mob, and Architecture is always destroyed causelessly. A fair building is necessarily worth the ground it stands upon, and will be so until Central Africa and America shall have become as populous as Middlesex: nor is any cause whatever valid as a ground for its destruction. If ever valid, certainly not now, when the place both of the past and future is too much usurped in our minds by the restless and discontented present. The very quietness of nature is gradually withdrawn from us; thousands who once in their necessarily prolonged travel were subjected to an influence, from the silent sky and slumbering fields, more effectual than known or confessed, now bear with them even there the ceaseless fever of their life; and along the iron veins that traverse the frame of our country, beat and flow the fiery pulses of its exertion, hotter and faster every hour. All vitality is concentrated through those throbbing arteries into the central cities; the country is passed over like a green sea by narrow bridges, and we are thrown back in continually closer crowds upon the city gates. The only influence which can in any wise there take the place of that of the woods and fields, is the power of ancient Architecture. Do not part with it for the sake of the formal square, or of the fenced and planted walk, nor of the goodly street nor opened quay. The pride of a city is not in these. Leave them to the crowd; but remember that there will surely be some within the circuit of the disquieted walls who would ask for some other spots than these wherein to walk; for some other forms to meet their sight familiarly: like him who sat so often where the sun struck from the west, to watch the lines of the dome of Florence drawn on the deep sky, or like those, his Hosts, who could bear daily to behold, from their palace chambers, the places where their fathers lay at rest, at the meeting of the dark streets of Verona.

Notes

1. No, indeed! — any more wasted words than mine throughout life, or bread cast on more bitter waters, I never heard of. This closing paragraph of the sixth chapter is the best, I think, in the book, — and the vainest. [1880.]

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* Mit herzlichem Vertrauen … alle Ewigkeit: 'With heartfelt trust | Have Johannes Mooter and Maria Rubi | Had this house built. | The dear God will shield us | From all misfortune and danger | And let it stand in blessedness | On this journey, through this time of sorrow | To the heavenly Paradise | Where all good people dwell, | There will God reward them | With the Crown of Peace | To all eternity.'

Cambridge School of Art: Inaugural Address (1858)

I suppose the persons interested in establishing a School of Art for workmen may in the main be divided into two classes, namely, first, those who chiefly desire to make the men themselves happier, wiser, and better; and secondly, those who desire to enable them to produce better and more valuable work. These two objects may, of course, be kept both in view at the same time; nevertheless, there is a wide difference in the spirit with which we shall approach our task, according to the motive of these two which weighs most with us — a difference great enough to divide, as I have said, the promoters of any such scheme into two distinct classes; one philanthropic in the gist of its aim, and the other commercial in the gist of its aim; one desiring the workman to be better informed chiefly for his own sake, and the other chiefly that he may be enabled to produce for us commodities precious in themselves, and which shall successfully compete with those of other countries.

And this separation in motives must lead also to a distinction in the machinery of the work. The philanthropists address themselves, not to the artisan merely, but to the labourer in general, desiring in any possible way to refine the habits or increase the happiness of our whole working population, by giving them new recreations or new thoughts: and the principles of Arteducation adopted in a school which has this wide but somewhat indeterminate aim, are, or should be, very different from those adopted in a school meant for the special instruction of the artisan in his own business. I do not think this distinction is yet firmly enough fixed in our minds, or calculated upon in our plans of operation. We have hitherto acted, it seems to me, under a vague impression that the arts of drawing and painting might be, up to a certain point, taught in a general way to every one, and would do every one equal good; and that each class of operatives might afterwards bring this general knowledge into use in their own trade, according to its requirements. Now, that is not so. A wood-carver needs for his business to learn drawing in quite a different way from a china-painter, and a jeweller from a worker in iron. They must be led to study quite different characters in the natural forms they introduce in their various manufacture. It is no use to teach an iron-worker to observe the down on a peach, and of none to teach laws of atmospheric effect to a carver in wood. So far as their business is concerned, their brains would be vainly occupied by such things, and they would be prevented from pursuing, with enough distinctness or intensity, the qualities of Art which can alone be expressed in the materials with which they each have to do.

Now, I believe it to be wholly impossible to teach special application of Art principles to various trades in a single school. That special application can be only learned rightly by the experience of years in the particular work required. The power of each material, and the difficulties connected with its treatment, are not so much to be taught as to be felt; it is only by repeated touch and continued trial beside the forge or the furnace, that the goldsmith can find out how to govern his gold, or the glass-worker his crystal; and it is only by watching and assisting the actual practice of a master in the business, that the apprentice can learn the efficient secrets of manipulation, or perceive the true limits of the involved conditions of design. It seems to me, therefore, that all idea of reference to definite businesses should be abandoned in such schools as that just established: we can have neither the materials, the conveniences, nor the empirical skill in the master, necessary to make such teaching useful. All specific Art-teaching must be given in schools established by each trade for itself: and when our operatives are a little more enlightened on these matters, there will be found, as I have already stated in my lectures on the political economy of Art, absolute necessity for the establishment of guilds of trades in an active and practical form, for the purposes of ascertaining the principles of Art proper to their business, and instructing their apprentices in them, as well as making experiments on materials, and on newly invented methods of procedure; besides many other functions which I cannot now enter into account of. All this for the present, and in a school such as this, I repeat, we cannot hope for: we shall obtain no satisfactory result, unless we give up such hope, and set ourselves to teaching the operative, however employed — be he farmer's labourer, or manufacturer's; be he mechanic, artificer, shopman, sailor, or ploughman — teaching, I say, as far as we can, one and the same thing to all; namely, Sight.

Not a slight thing to teach, this: perhaps, on the whole, the most important thing to be taught in the whole range of teaching. To be taught to read — what is the use of that, if you know not whether what you read is false or true? To be taught to write or to speak — but what is the use of speaking, if you have nothing to say? To be taught to think — nay, what is the use of being able to think, if you have nothing to think of? But to be taught to see is to gain word and thought at once, and both true. There is a vague acknowledgment of this in the way people are continually expressing their longing for light, until all the common language of our prayers and hymns has sunk into little more than one monotonous metaphor, dimly twisted into alternate languages, — asking first in Latin to be illuminated; and then in English to be enlightened; and then in Latin again to be delivered out of obscurity; and then in English to be delivered out of darkness; and then for beams, and rays, and suns, and stars, and lamps, until sometimes one wishes that, at least for religious purposes, there were no such words as light or darkness in existence. Still, the main instinct which makes people endure this perpetuity of repetition is a true one; only the main thing they want and ought to ask for is, not light, but Sight. It doesn't matter how much light you have if you don't know how to use it. It may very possibly put out your eyes, instead of helping them. Besides, we want, in this world of ours, very often to be able to see in the dark — that's the great gift of all; — but at any rate to see no matter by what light, so only we can see things as they are. On my word, we should soon make it a different world, if we could get but a little — ever so little — of the dervish's ointment in the Arabian Nights, not to show us the treasures of the earth, but the facts of it.

However, whether these things be generally true or not, at all events it is certain that our immediate business, in such a school as this, will prosper more by attending to eyes than to hands; we shall always do most good by simply endeavouring to enable the student to see natural objects clearly and truly. We ought not even to try too strenuously to give him the power of representing them. That power may be acquired, more or less, by exercises which are no wise conducive to accuracy of sight: and, vice versâ accuracy of sight may be gained by exercises which in no wise conduce to ease of representation. For instance, it very much assists the power of drawing to spend many hours in the practice of washing in flat tints; but all this manual practice does not in the least increase the student's power of determining what the tint of a given object actually is. He would be more advanced in the knowledge of the facts by a single hour of well- directed and well-corrected effort, rubbing out and putting in again, lightening, and darkening, and scratching, and blotching, in patient endeavours to obtain concordance with fact, issuing perhaps, after all, in total destruction or unpresentability of the drawing; but also in acute perception of the things he has been attempting to copy in it. Of course, there is always a vast temptation, felt both by the master and student, to struggle towards visible results, and obtain something beautiful, creditable, or saleable, in way of actual drawing: but the more I see of schools, the more reason I see to look with doubt upon those which produce too many showy and complete works by pupils. A showy work will always be found, on stern examination of it, to have been done by some conventional rule; — some servile compliance with directions which the student does not see the reason for; and representation of truths which he has not himself perceived: the execution of such drawings will be found monotonous and lifeless; their light and shade specious and formal, but false. A drawing which the pupil has learned much in doing, is nearly always full of blunders and mishaps, and it is highly necessary for the formation of a truly public or universal school of Art, that the masters should not try to conceal or anticipate such blunders, but only seek to employ, the pupil's time so as to get the most precious results for his understanding and his heart, not for his hand.

For, observe, the best that you can do in the production of drawing, or of draughtsmanship, must always be nothing in itself, unless the whole life be given to it. An amateur's drawing, or a workman's drawing — anybody's drawing but an artist's, is always valueless in itself. It may be… most precious as a memorial, or as a gift , or as a means of noting useful facts; but as Art, an amateur's drawing is always wholly worthless; and it ought to be one of our great objects to make the pupil understand and feel that, and prevent his trying to make his valueless work look, in some superficial, hypocritical, eye-catching, penny-catching way, like work that is really good.

If, therefore, we have to do with pupils belonging to the higher ranks of life, our main duty will be to make them good judges of Art, rather than artists; for though I had a month to speak to you, instead of an hour, time would fail me if I tried to trace the various ways in which we suffer, nationally, for want of powers of enlightened judgment of Art in our upper and middle classes. Not that this judgment can ever be obtained without discipline of the hand: no man ever was a thorough judge of painting who could not draw; but the drawing should only be thought of as a means of fixing his attention upon the subtleties of the Art put before him, or of enabling him to record such natural facts as are necessary for comparison with it. I should also attach the greatest importance to severe limitation of choice in the examples submitted to him. To study one good master till you understand him will teach you more than a superficial acquaintance with a thousand: power of criticism does not consist in knowing the names or the manner of many painters, but in discerning the excellence of a few.

If, on the contrary, our teaching is addressed more definitely to the operative, we need not endeavour to render his powers of criticism very acute. About many forms of existing Art, the less he knows the better. His sensibilities are to be cultivated with respect to nature chiefly; and his imagination, if possible, to be developed, even though somewhat to the disadvantage of his judgment. It is better that his work should be bold, than faultless: and better that it should be delightful, than discreet.

And this leads me to the second, or commercial, question; namely, how to get from the workman, after we have trained him, the best and most precious work, so as to enable ourselves to compete with foreign countries, or develop new branches of commerce in our own.

Many of us, perhaps, are under the impression that plenty of schooling will do this; that plenty of lecturing will do it; that sending abroad for patterns will do it; or that patience, time, and money, and goodwill may do it. And, alas, none of these things, nor all of them put together, will do it. If you want really good work, such as will be acknowledged by all the world, there is but one way of getting it, and that is a difficult one. You may offer any premium you choose for it — but you will find it can't be done for premiums. You may send for patterns to the antipodes — but you will find it can't be done upon patterns. You may lecture on the principles of Art to every school in the kingdom — and you will find it can't be done upon principles. You may wait patiently for the progress of the age — and you will find your Art is unprogressive. Or you may set yourselves impatiently to urge it by the inventions of the age — and you will find your chariot of Art entirely immovable either by screw or paddle. There's no way of getting good Art, I repeat, but one — at once the simplest and most difficult — namely, to enjoy it. Examine the history of nations, and you will find this great fact clear and unmistakable on the front of it-that good Art has only been produced by nations who rejoiced in it; fed themselves with it, as if it were bread; basked in it, as if it were sunshine; shouted at the sight of it; danced with the delight of it; quarrelled for it; fought for it; starved for it; did, in fact, precisely the opposite with it of what we want to do with it — they made it to keep, and we to sell.

And truly this is a serious difficulty for us as a commerrial nation. The very primary motive with which we set about the business, makes the business impossible. The first and absolute condition of the thing's ever becoming saleable is, that we shall make it without wanting to sell it; nay, rather with a determination not to sell it at any price, if once we get hold of it. Try to make your Art popular, cheap — a fair article for your foreign market; and the foreign market will always show something better. But make it only to please yourselves, and even be resolved that you won't let anybody else have any; and forthwith you will find everybody else wants it. And observe, the insuperable difficulty is this making it to please ourselves, while we are incapable of pleasure. Take, for instance, the simplest example, which we can all understand, in the art of dress. We have made a great fuss about the patterns of silk lately; wanting to vie with Lyons, and make a Paris of London. Well, we may try for ever: so long as we don't really enjoy silk patterns, we shall never get any. And we don't enjoy them. Of course, all ladies like their dresses to sit well, and be becoming; but of real enjoyment of the beauty of the silk, for the silk's own sake, I find none; for the test of that enjoyment is, that they would like it also to sit well, and look well, on somebody else. The pleasure of being well dressed, or even of seeing well-dressed people — for I will suppose in my fair hearers that degree of unselfishness — be that pleasure great or small, is quite a different thing from delight in the beauty and play of the silken folds and colours themselves, for their own gorgeousness or grace.

I have just had a remarkable proof of the total want of this feeling in the modern mind. I was staying part of this summer in Turin, for the purpose of studying one of the Paul Veroneses there — the pre-sentation of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. Well, one of the most notable characters in this picture is the splendour of its silken dresses: and, in particular, there was a piece of white brocade, with designs upon it in gold, which it was one of my chief objects in stopping at Turin to copy. You may, perhaps, be surprised at this; but I must just note in passing, that I share this weakness of enjoying dress patterns with all good students and all good painters. It doesn't matter what school they belong to, — Fra Angelico, Perugino, John Bellini, Giorgione, Titian, Tintoret, Veronese, Leonardo da Vinci — no matter how they differ in other respects, all of them like dress patterns; and what is more, the nobler the painter is, the surer he is to do his patterns well.

I stayed then, as I say, to make a study of this white brocade. It generally happens in public galleries that the best pictures are the worst placed; and this Veronese is not only hung at considerable height above the eye, but over a door, through which, however, as all the visitors to the gallery must pass, they cannot easily overlook the picture, though they would find great difficulty in examining it. Beside this door, I had a stage erected for my work, which being of some height and rather in a corner, enabled me to observe, without being observed myself, the impression made by the picture on the various visitors. It seemed to me that if ever a work of Art caught popular attention, this ought to do so. It was of very large size; of brilliant colour, and of agreeable subject. There are about twenty figures in it, the principal ones being life size: that of Solomon, though in the shade, is by far the most perfect conception of the young king in his pride of wisdom and beauty which I know in the range of Italian art; the queen is one of the loveliest of Veronese's female figures; all the accessories are full of grace and imagination; and the finish of the whole so perfect that one day I was upwards of two hours vainly trying to render, with perfect accuracy, the curves of two leaves of the brocaded silk. The English travellers used to walk through the room in considerable numbers; and were invariably directed to the picture by their laquais de place, if they missed seeing it themselves. And to this painting — in which it took me six weeks to examine rightly two figures — I found that on an average, the English traveller who was doing Italy conscientiously, and seeing everything as he thought he ought, gave about half or three-quarters of a minute; but the flying or fashionable traveller, who came to do as much as he could in a given time, never gave more than a single glance, most of such people turning aside instantly to a bad landscape hung on the right, containing a vigorously painted white wall, and an opaque green moat. What especially impressed me, however, was that none of the ladies ever stopped to look at the dresses in the Veronese. Certainly they were far more beautiful than any in the shops in the great square, yet no one ever noticed them. Sometimes when any nice, sharp-looking, bright-eyed girl came into the room, I used to watch her all the way, thinking — 'Come, at least you'll see what the Queen of Sheba has got on.' But no — on she would come carelessly, with a little toss of the head, apparently signifying, 'nothing in this room worth looking at — except myself,' and so trip through the door, and away.

The fact is, we don't care for pictures: in very deed we don't. The Academy exhibition is a thing to talk of and to amuse vacant hours; those who are rich amongst us buy a painting or two, for mixed reasons, sometimes to fill the comer of a passage — sometimes to help the drawing-room talk before dinner — sometimes because the painter is fashionable — occasionally because he is poor — not unfrequently that we may have a collection of specimens of painting, as we have specimens of min erals or butterflies — and in the best and rarest case of all, because we have really, as we call it, taken a fancy to the picture; meaning the same sort of fancy which one would take to a pretty arm-chair or a newly-shaped decanter. But as for real love of the picture, and joy of it when we have got it, I do not believe it is felt by one in a thousand.

I am afraid this apathy of ours will not be easily conquered; but even supposing it should, and that we should begin to enjoy pictures properly, and that the supply of good ones increased as in that case it would increase — then comes another question. Perhaps some of my hearers this evening may occasionally have heard it stated of me that I am rather apt to contradict myself. I hope I am exceedingly apt to do so. I never met with a question yet, of any importance, which did not need, for the right solution of it, at least one positive and one negative answer, like an equation of the second degree. Mostly, matters of any consequence are three-sided, or four-sided, or polygonal; and the trotting round a polygon is severe work for people any way stiff in their opinions. For myself, I am never satisfied that I have handled a subject properly till I have contradicted myself at least three times: but once must do for this evening. I have just said that there is no chance of our getting good Art unless we delight in it: next I say, and just as positively, that there is no chance of our getting good Art unless we resist our delight in it. We must love it first, and restrain our love for it afterwards.

This sounds strange; and yet I assure you it is true. In fact, whenever anything does not sound strange, you may generally doubt its being true; for all truth is wonderful. But take an instance in physical matters, of the same kind of contradiction. Suppose you were explaining to a young student in astronomy how the earth was kept steady in its orbit; you would have to state to him — would you not? — that the earth always had a tendency to fall to the sun; and that also it always had a tendency to fly away from the sun. These are two precisely contrary statements for him to digest at his leisure, before he can understand how the earth moves. Now, in like manner, when Art is set in its true and serviceable course, it moves under the luminous attraction of pleasure on the one side, and with a stout moral purpose of going about some useful business on the other. If the artist works without delight, he passes away into space, and perishes of cold: if he works only for delight, he falls into the sun, and extinguishes himself in ashes. On the whole, this last is the fate, I do not say the most to be feared, but which Art has generally hitherto suffered, and which the great nations of the earth have suffered with it.

For, while most distinctly you may perceive in past history that Art has never been produced, except by nations who took pleasure in it, just as assuredly, and even more plainly, you may perceive that Art has always destroyed the power and life of those who pursued it for pleasure only. Surely this fact must have struck you as you glanced at the career of the great nations of the earth: surely it must have occurred to you as a point for serious questioning, how far, even in our days, we were wise in promoting the advancement of pleasures which appeared as yet only to have corrupted the souls and numbed the strength of those who attained to them. I have been complaining of England that she despises the Arts; but I might, with still more appearance of justice, complain that she does not rather dread them than despise. For, what has been the source of the ruin of nations since the world began? Has it been plague, or famine, earthquake-shock or volcano-flame? None of these ever prevailed against a great people, so as to make their name pass from the earth. In every period and place of national decline, you will find other causes than these at work to bring it about, namely, luxury, effeminacy, love of pleasure, fineness in Art, ingenuity in enjoyment. What is the main lesson which, as far as we seek any in our classical reading, we gather for our youth from ancient history? Surely this — that simplicity of life, of language, and of manners gives strength to a nation; and that luxuriousness of life, subtlety of language, and smoothness of manners bring weakness and destruction on a nation. While men possess little and desire less, they remain brave and noble: while they are scornful of all the arts of luxury, and are in the sight of other nations as barbarians, their swords are irresistible and their sway illimitable: but let them become sensitive to the refinements of taste, and quick in the capacities of pleasure, and, that instant, the fingers, that had grasped the iron rod, fail from the golden sceptre. You cannot charge me with any exaggeration in this matter; it is impossible to state the truth too strongly, or as too universal. For ever you will see the rude and simple nation at once more virtuous and more victorious than one practised in the arts. Watch how the Lydian is overthrown by the Persian; the Persian by the Athenian; the Athenian by the Spartan; then the whole of polished Greece by the rougher Roman; the Roman, in his turn refined, only to be crushed by the Goth: and at the turning point of the Middle Ages, the liberty of Europe first asserted, the virtues of Christianity best practised, and its doctrines best attested, by a handful of mountain shepherds, with out art, without literature, almost without a language, yet remaining unconquered in the midst of the Teutonic chivalry, and uncorrupted amidst the hierarchies of Rome…

Now, therefore, the sum of all is, that you who wish to encourage Art in England have to do two things with it: you must delight in it, in the first place; and you must get it to serve some serious work, in the second place. I don't mean by serious, necessarily moral: all that I mean by serious is in some way or other useful, not merely selfish, careless, or indolent. I had, indeed, intended before closing my address, to have traced out a few of the directions in which, as it seems to me, Art may be seriously and practically serviceable to us in the career of civilization. I had hoped to show you how many of the great phenomena of nature still remained unrecorded by it, for us to record; how many of the historical monuments of Europe were perishing without memorial, for the want of but a little honest, simple, laborious, loving draughtsmanship; how many of the most impressive historical events of the day failed of teaching us half of what they were meant to teach, for want of painters to represent them faithfully, instead of fancifully, and with historical truth for their aim, instead of national self-glorification. I had hoped to show you how many of the best impulses of the heart were lost in frivolity or sensuality, for want of purer beauty to contemplate, and of noble thoughts to associate with the fervour of hallowed human passion; how, finally, a great part of the vital power of our religious faith was lost in us, for want of such art as would realize in some rational, probable, believable way, those events of sacred history which, as they visibly and intelligibly occurred, may also be visibly and intelligibly represented. But all this I dare not do yet. I felt, as I thought over these things, that the time was not yet come for their declaration: the time will come for it, and I believe soon; but as yet, the man would only lay himself open to the charge of vanity, of imagination, and of idle fondness of hope, who should venture to trace in words the course of the higher blessings which the Arts may have yet in store for mankind. As yet there is no need to do so: all that we have to plead for is an earnest and straightforward exertion in those courses of study which are opened to us day by day, believing only that they are to be followed gravely and for grave purposes, as by men, and not by children. I appeal, finally, to all those who are to become the pupils of these schools, to keep clear of the notion of following Art as dilettantism: it ought to delight you, as your reading delights you — but you never think of your reading as dilettantism. It ought to delight you as your studies of physical science delight you — but you don't call physical science dilettantism. If you are determined only to think of Art as a play or a pleasure, give it up at once: you will do no good to yourselves, and you will degrade the pursuit in the sight of others. Better, infinitely better, that you should never enter a picture gallery, than that you should enter only to saunter and to smile: better, infinitely better, that you should never handle a pencil at all, than handle it only for the sake of complacency in your small dexterity: better, infinitely better, that you should be wholly uninterested in pictures, and uninformed respecting them, than that you should just know enough to detect blemishes in great works, — to give a colour of reasonableness to presumption, and an appearance of acuteness to misunderstanding. Above all, I would plead for this so far as the teaching of these schools may be addressed to the junior Members of the University. Men employed in any kind of manual labour, by which they must live, are not likely to take up the notion that they can learn any other art for amusement only; but amateurs are: and it is of the highest importance, nay, it is just the one thing of all importance, to show them what drawing really means; and not so much to teach them to produce a good work themselves, as to know it when they see it done by others. Good work, in the stern sense of the word, as I before said, no mere amateur can do; and good work, in sense, that is to say, profitable work for himself or for any one else, he can only do by being made in the beginning to see what is possible for him, and what not; — what is accessible, and what not; and by having the majesty and sternness of the everlasting laws of fact set before him in their infinitude. It is no matter for appalling him: the man is great already who is made well capable of being appalled; nor do we even wisely hope, nor truly understand, till we are humiliated by our hope, and awe-struck by our understanding. Nay, I will go farther than this, and say boldly, that what you have mainly to teach the young men here is, not so much what they can do, as what they cannot; — to make them see how much there is in nature which cannot be imitated, and how much in man which cannot be emulated. He only can be truly said to be educated in Art to whom all his work is only a feeble sign of glories which he cannot convey, and a feeble means of measuring, with ever enlarging admiration, the great and untraversable gulf which God has set between the great and the common intelligences of mankind: and all the triumphs of Art which man can commonly achieve are only truly crowned by pure delight in natural scenes themselves, and by the sacred and self-forgetful veneration which can be nobly abashed, and tremblingly exalted, in the presence of a human spirit greater than his own.

Of Kings' Treasuries

'You shall each have a cake of sesame, — and ten pound.'

LUCIAN: The Fisherman.

My first duty this evening is to ask your pardon for the ambiguity of title under which the subject of lecture has been announced: for indeed I am not going to talk of kings, known as regnant, nor of treasuries, understood to contain wealth; but of quite another order of royalty, and another material of riches, than those usually acknowledged. I had even intended to ask your attention for a little while on trust, and (as sometimes one contrives, in taking a friend to see a favourite piece of scenery) to hide what I wanted most to show, with such imperfect cunning as I might, until we unexpectedly reached the best point of view by winding paths. But — and as also I have heard it said, by men practised in public address, that hearers are never so much fatigued as by the endeavour to follow a speaker who gives them no clue to his purpose, — I will take the slight mask off at once, and tell you plainly that I want to speak to you about the treasures hidden in books; and about the way we find them, and the way we lose them. A grave subject, you will say; and a wide one! Yes; so wide that I shall make no effort to touch the compass of it. I will try only to bring before you a few simple thoughts about reading, which press themselves upon me every day more deeply, as I watch the course of the public mind with respect to our daily enlarging means of education; and the answeringly wider spreading on the levels, of the irrigation of literature.

It happens that I have practically some connection with schools for different classes of youth; and I receive many letters from parents respecting the education of their children. In the mass of these letters I am always struck by the precedence which the idea of a 'position in life' takes above all other thoughts in the parents' — more especially in the mothers' — minds. 'The education befitting such and such a station in life' — this is the phrase, this the object, always. They never seek, as far as I can make out, an education good in itself; even the conception of abstract rightness in training rarely seems reached by the writers. But, an education 'which shall keep a good coat on my son's back; — which shall enable him to ring with confidence the visitors' bell at doublebelled doors; which shall result ultimately in establishment of a double-belled door to his own house; — in a word, which shall lead to advancement in life; — this we pray for on bent knees — and this is all we pray for.' It never seems to occur to the parents that there may be an education which, in itself, is advancement in Life; — that any other than that may perhaps be advancement in Death; and that this essential education might be more easily got, or given, than they fancy, if they set about it in the right way; while it is for no price, and by no favour, to be got, if they set about it in the wrong.

Indeed, among the ideas most prevalent and effective in the mind of this busiest of countries, I suppose the first — at least that which is confessed with the greatest frankness, and put forward as the fittest stimulus to youthful exertion — is this of 'Advancement in life.' May I ask you to consider with me, what this idea practically includes, and what it should indude?

Practically, then, at present, 'advancement in life' means, becoming conspicuous in life; obtaining a position which shall be acknowledged by others to be respectable or honourable. We do not understand by this advancement, in general, the mere making of money, but the being known to have made it; not the accomplishment of any great aim, but the being seen to have accomplished it. In a word, we mean the gratification of our thirst for applause. That thirst, if the last infirmity of noble minds, is also the first infirmity of weak ones; and, on the whole, the strongest impulsive influence of average humanity: the greatest efforts of the race have always been traceable to the love of praise, as its greatest catastrophes to the love of pleasure.

I am not about to attack or defend this impulse. I want you only to feel how it lies at the root of effort; especially of all modern effort. It is the gratification of vanity which is, with us, the stimulus of toil and balm of repose; so closely does it touch the very springs of life that the wounding of our vanity is always spoken of (and truly) as in its measure mortal; we call it 'mortification,' using the same expression which we should apply to a gangrenous and incurable bodily hurt. And although a few of us may be physicans enough to recognize the various effect of this passion upon health and energy, I believe most honest men know, and would at once acknowledge, its leading power with them as a motive. The seaman does not commonly desire to be made captain only because he knows he can manage the ship better than any other sailor on board. He wants to be made captain that he may be called captain. The clergyman does not usually want to be made a bishop only because he believes that no other hand can, as firmly as his, direct the diocese through its difficulties. He wants to be made bishop primarily that he may be called 'My Lord.' And a prince does not usually desire to enlarge, or a subject to gain, a kingdom, because he believes no one else can as well serve the State, upon its throne; but, briefly, because he wishes to be addressed as 'Your Majesty,' by as many lips as may be brought to such utterance.

This, then, being the main idea of 'advancement in life,' the force of it applies, for all of us, according to our station, particularly to that secondary result of such advancement which we call 'getting into good society.' We want to get into good society, not that we may have it, but that we may be seen in it; and our notion of its goodness depends primarily on its conspicuousness.

Will you pardon me if I pause for a moment to put what I fear you may think an impertinent question? I never can go on with an address unless I feel, or know, that my audience are either with me or against me: I do not much care which, in beginning; but I must know where they are; and I would fain find out, at this instant, whether you think I am putting the motives of popular action too low. I am resolved, to-night, to state them low enough to be admitted as probable; for whenever, in my writings on Political Economy, I assume that a little honesty, or generosity, — or what used to be called 'virtue,' — may be calculated upon as a human motive of action, people always answer me, saying, 'You must not calculate on that: that is not in human nature: you must not assume anything to be common to men but acquisitiveness and jealousy; no other feeling ever has influence on them, except accidentally, and in matters out of the way of business.' I begin, accordingly, tonight low in the scale of motives; but I must know if you think me right in doing so. Therefore, let me ask those who admit the love of praise to be usually the strongest motive in men's minds in seeking advancement, and the honest desire of doing any kind of duty to be an entirely secondary one, to hold up their hands. (About a dozen hands held up — the audience, partly, not being sure the lecturer is serious, and, partly, shy of expressing opinion.) I am quite serious — I really do want to know what you think; however, I can judge by putting the reverse question. Will those who think that duty is generally the first, and love of praise the second motive, hold up their hands? (One hand reported to have been held up behind the lecturer.) Very good: I see you are with me, and that you think I have not begun too near the ground. Now, without teasing you by putting farther question, I venture to assume that you will admit duty as at least a secondary or tertiary motive. You think that the desire of doing something useful, or obtaining some real good, is indeed an existent collateral idea, though a secondary one, in most men's desire of advancement. You will grant that moderately honest men desire place and office, at least in some measure for the sake of beneficent power; and would wish to associate rather with sensible and well-informed persons than with fools and ignorant persons, whether they are seen in the company of the sensible ones or not. And finally, without being troubled by repetition of any common truisms about the preciousness of friends, and the influence of companions, you will admit, doubtless, that according to the sincerity of our desire that our friends may be true, and our companions wise, — and in proportion to the earnestness and discretion with which we choose both, — will be the general chances of our happiness and usefulness.

But, granting that we had both the will and the sense to choose our friends well, how few of us have the power! or, at least, how limited, for most, is the sphere of choice! Nearly all our associations are determined by chance or necessity; and restricted within a narrow circle. We cannot know whom we would; and those whom we know, we cannot have at our side when we most need them. All the higher circles of human intelligence are, to those beneath, only momentarily and partially open. We may, by good fortune, obtain a glimpse of a great poet, and hear the sound of his voice; or put a question to a man of science, and be answered good-humouredly. We may intrude ten minutes' talk on a cabinet minister, answered probably with words worse than silence, being deceptive; or snatch, once or twice in our lives, the privilege of throwing a bouquet in the path of a princess, or arresting the kind glance of a queen. And yet these momentary chances we covet; and spend our years, and passions, and powers, in pursuit of little more than these; while, meantime, there is a society continually open to us, of people who will talk to us as long as we like, whatever our rank or occupation; — talk to us in the best words they can choose, and of the things nearest their hearts. And this society, because it is so numerous and so gentle, and can be kept waiting round us all day long, — kings and statesmen lingering patiently, not to grant audience, but to gain it! — in those plainly furnished and narrow ante-rooms, our bookcase shelves, — we make no account of that company, — perhaps never listen to a word they would say, all day long!

You may tell me, perhaps, or think within yourselves, that the apathy with which we regard this company of the noble, who are praying us to listen to them; and the passion with which we pursue the company, probably of the ignoble, who despise us, or who have nothing to teach us, are grounded in this, — that we can see the faces of the living men, and it is themselves, and not their sayings, with which we desire to become familiar. But it is not so. Suppose you never were to see their faces; — suppose you could be put behind a screen in the states man's cabinet, or the prince's chamber, would you not be glad to listen to their words, though you were for bidden to advance beyond the screen? And when the screen is only a little less, folded in two instead of four, and you can be hidden behind the cover of the two boards that bind a book, and listen all day long, not to the casual talk, but to the studied, determined, chosen addresses of the wisest of men; — this station of audience, and honourable privy council, you despise!

But perhaps you will say that it is because the living people talk of things that are passing, and are of immediate interest to you, that you desire to hear them. Nay; that cannot be so, for the living people will themselves tell you about passing matters much better in their writings than in their careless talk. Yet I admit that this motive does influence you, so far as you prefer those rapid and ephemeral writings to slow and enduring writings — books, properly so called. For all books are divisible into two classes, the books of the hour, and the books of all time. Mark this distinction — it is not one of quality only. It is not merely the bad book that does not last, and the good one that does. It is a distinction of species. There are good books for the hour, and good ones for all time; bad books for the hour, and bad ones for all time. I must define the two kinds before I go farther.

The good book of the hour, then, — I do not speak of the bad ones, — is simply the useful or pleasant talk of some person whom you cannot otherwise converse with, printed for you. Very useful often, telling you what you need to know; very pleasant often, as a sensible friend's present talk would be. These bright accounts of travels; good-humoured and witty discussions of question; lively or pathetic story-telling in the form of novel; rum fact-telling, by the real agents concerned in the events of passing history; — all these books of the hour, multiplying among us as education becomes more general, are a peculiar possession of the present age: we ought to be entirely thankful for them, and entirely ashamed of ourselves if we make no good use of them. But we make the worst possible use if we allow them to usurp the place of true books: for, strictly speaking, they are not books at all, but merely letters or newspapers in good print. Our friend's letter may be delightful, or necessary, to-day: whether worth keeping or not, is to be considered. The newspaper may be entirely proper at breakfast time, but assuredly it is not reading for all day. So, though bound up in a volume, the long letter which gives you so pleasant an account of the inns, and roads, and weather, last year at such a place, or which tells you that amusing story, or gives you the real circumstances of such and such events, however valuable for occasional reference, may not be, in the real sense of the word, a 'book' at all, nor, in the real sense, to be 'read.' A book is essentially not a talking thing, but a written thing; and written, not with a view of mere communication, but of permanence. The book of talk is printed only because its author cannot speak to thousands of people at once; if he could, he would — the volume is mere multiplication of his voice. You cannot talk to your friend in India; if you could, you would; you write instead: that is mere conveyance of voice. But a book is written, not to multiply the voice merely, not to carry it merely, but to perpetuate it. The author has something to say which he perceives to be true and useful, or helpfully beautiful. So far as he knows, no one has yet said it; so far as he knows, no one else can say it. He is bound to say it, clearly and melodiously if he may; clearly at all events. In the sum of his life he finds this to be the thing, or group of things, manifest to him; — this, the piece of true knowledge, or sight, which his share of sunshine and earth has permitted him to seize. He would fain set it down for ever; engrave it on rock, if he could; saying, 'This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved, and hated, like another; my life was as the vapour, and is not; but this I saw and knew: this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory.' That is his 'writing'; it is, in his small human way, and with whatever degree of true inspiration is in him, his inscription, or scripture. That is a 'Book.'

Perhaps you think no books were ever so written?

But, again, I ask you, do you at all believe in honesty, or at all in kindness, or do you think there is never any honesty or benevolence in wise people? None of us, I hope, are so unhappy as to think that. Well, whatever bit of a wise man's work is honestly and benevolently done, that bit is his book or his piece of art. It is mixed always with evil fragments — ill-done, redundant, affected work. But if you read rightly, you will easily discover the true bits, and those are the book.

Now books of this kind have been written in all ages by their greatest men: -by great leaders, great statesmen, and great thinkers. These are all at your choice; and Life is short. You have heard as much before; — yet have you measured and mapped out this short life and its possibilities? Do you know, if you read this, that you cannot read that — that what you lose to-day you cannot gain to-morrow? Will you go and gossip with your housemaid, or your stable-boy, when you may talk with queens and kings; or flatter yourself that it is with any worthy consciousness of your own claims to respect, that you jostle with the hungry and common crowd for entrée here, and audience there, when all the while this eternal court is open to you, with its society, wide as the world, multitudinous as its days, the chosen, and the mighty, of every place and time? Into that you may enter always; in that you may take fellowship and rank according to your wish; from that, once entered into it, you can never be outcast but by your own fault; by your aristocracy of companionship there, your own inherent aristocracy will be assuredly tested, and the motives with which you strive to take high place in the society of the living, measured, as to all the truth and sincerity that are in them, by the place you desire to take in this company of the Dead.

'The place you desire,' and the place you fit yourself for, I must also say; because, observe, this court of the past differs from all living aristocracy in this: — it is open to labour and to merit, but to nothing else. No wealth will bribe, no name overawe, no artifice deceive, the guardian of those Elysian gates. In the deep sense, no vile or vulgar person ever enters there. At the portières of that silent Faubourg St Germain, there is but brief question: — 'Do you deserve to enter? Pass. Do you ask to be the companion of nobles? Make yourself noble, and you shall be. Do you long for the conversation of the wise? Learn to understand it, and you shall hear it. But on other terms? — no. If you will not rise to us, we cannot stoop to you. The living lord may assume courtesy, the living philosopher explain his thought to you with considerate pain; but here we neither feign nor interpret; you must rise to the level of our thoughts if you would be gladdened by them, and share our feelings, if you would recognize our presence.'

This, then, is what you have to do, and I admit that it is much. You must, in a word, love these people, if you are to be among them. No ambition is of any use. They scorn your ambition. You must love them, and show your love in these two following ways.

(1) First, by a true desire to be taught by them, and to enter into their thoughts. To enter into theirs, observe; not to find your own expressed by them. If the person who wrote the book is not wiser than you, you need not read it; if he be, he will think differently from you in many respects.

(2) Very ready we are to say of a book, 'How good this is — that's exactly what I think!' But the fight feeling is, 'How strange that is! I never thought of that before, and yet I see it is true; or if I do not now, I hope I shall, some day.' But whether thus submissively or not, at least be sure that you go to the author to get at his meaning, not to find yours. Judge it afterwards if you think yourself qualified to do so; but ascertain it first. And be sure, also, if the author is worth anything, that you will not get at his meaning all at once; — nay, that at his whole meaning you will not for a long time arrive in any wise. Not that he does not say what he means, and in strong words too; but he cannot say it all; and what is more strange, will not, but in a hidden way and in parables, in order that he may be sure you want it. I cannot quite see the reason of this, nor analyse that cruel reticence in the breasts of wise men which makes them always hide their deeper thought. They do not give it you by way of help, but of reward; and will make themselves sure that you deserve it before they allow you to reach it. But it is the same with the physical type of wisdom, gold. There seems, to you and me, no reason why the electric forces of the earth should not carry whatever there is of gold within it at once to the mountain tops, so that kings and people might know that all the gold they could get was there; and without any trouble of digging, or anxiety, or chance, or waste of time, cut it away, and coin as much as they needed. But Nature does not manage it so. She puts it in little fissures in the earth, nobody knows where: you may dig long and find none; you must dig painfully to find any.

And it is just the same with men's best wisdom. When you come to a good book, you must ask yourself, 'Am I inclined to work as an Australian miner would? Are my pickaxes and shovels in good order, and am I in good trim myself, my sleeves well up to the elbow, and my breath good, and my temper?' And, keeping the figure a little longer, even at cost of tiresomeness, for it is a thoroughly useful one, the metal you are in search of being the author's mind or meaning, his words are as the rock which you have to crush and smelt in order to get at it. And your pickaxes are your own care, wit, and learning; your smelting furnace is your own thoughtful soul. Do not hope to get at any good author's meaning without those tools and that fire; often you will need sharpest, finest chiselling, and patientest fusing, before you can gather one grain of the metal.

And, therefore, first of all, I tell you earnestly and authoritatively (I know I am right in this), you must get into the habit of looking intensely at words, and assuring yourself of their meaning, syllable by syllable — nay, letter by letter. For though it is only by reason of the opposition of letters in the function of signs, to sounds in the function of signs, that the study of books is called 'literature,' and that a man versed in it is called, by the consent of nations, a man of letters instead of a man of books, or of words, you may yet connect with that accidental nomenclature this real fact: — that you might read all the books in the British Museum (if you could live long enough), and remain an utterly 'illiterate,' uneducated person; but that if you read ten pages of a good book, letter by letter, — that is to say, with real accuracy, — you are for evermore in some measure an educated person. The entire difference between education and non education (as regards the merely intellectual part of it), consists in this accuracy. A well-educated gentleman may not know many languages, — may not be able to speak any but his own, — may have read very few books. But whatever language he knows, he knows precisely; whatever word he pronounces, he pronounces rightly; above all, he is learned in the peerage of words; knows the words of true descent and ancient blood, at a glance, from words of modem canaille; remembers all their ancestry, their intermarriages, distant relationships, and the extent to which they were admitted, and offices they held, among the national noblesse of words at any time, and in any country. But an uneducated person may know, by memory, many languages, and talk them all, and yet truly know not a word of any, — not a word even of his own. An ordinarily clever and sensible seaman will be able to make his way ashore at most ports; yet he has only to speak a sentence of any language to be known for an illiterate person: so also the accent, or turn of expression of a single sentence, will at once mark a scholar. And this is so strongly felt, so conclusively admitted, by educated persons, that a false accent or a mistaken syllable is enough, in the parliament of any civilized nation, to assign to a man a certain degree of inferior standing for ever.

And this is right; but it is a pity that the accuracy insisted on is not greater, and required to a serious purpose. It is right that a false Latin quantity should excite a smile in the House of Commons; but it is wrong that a false English meaning should not excite a frown there. Let the accent of words be watched; and closely: let their meaning be watched more closely still, and fewer will do the work. A few words well chosen, and distinguished, will do work that a thousand cannot, when every one is acting, equivocally, in the function of another. Yes; and words, if they are not watched, will do deadly work sometimes. There are masked words droning and skulking about us in Europe just now, — (there never were so many, owing to the spread of a shallow, blotching, blundering, infectious 'information,' or rather deformation, everywhere, and to the teaching of catechisms and phrases at school instead of human meanings) — there are masked words abroad, I say, which nobody understands, but which everybody uses, and most people will also fight for, live for, or even die for, fancying they mean this or that, or the other, of things dear to them: for such words wear chameleon cloaks — 'ground-lion' cloaks, of the colour of the ground of any man's fancy: on that ground they lie in wait, and rend them with a spring from it. There never were creatures of prey so mischievous, never diplomatists so cunning, never poisoners so deadly, as these masked words; they are the unjust stewards of all men's ideas: whatever fancy or favourite instinct a man most cherishes, he gives to his favourite masked word to take care of for him; the word at last comes to have an infinite power over him, — you cannot get at him but by its ministry.

And in languages so mongrel in breed as the English, there is a fatal power of equivocation put into men's hands, almost whether they will or no, in being able to use Greek or Latin words for an idea when they want it to be awful; and Saxon or otherwise common words when they want it to be vulgar. What a singular and salutary effect, for instance, would be produced on the minds of people who are in the habit of taking the Form of the 'Word' they live by, for the Power of which that Word tells them, if we always either retained, or refused, the Greek form 'biblos,' or 'biblion,' as the right expression for 'book' — instead of employing it only in the one instance in which we wish to give dignity to the idea, and translating it into English everywhere else. How wholesome it would be for many simple persons if, in such places (for instance) as Acts xix.19, we retained the Greek expression, instead of translating it, and they had to read — 'Many of them also which used curious arts, brought their bibles together, and burnt them before all men; and they counted the price of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver'! Or if, on the other hand, we translated where we retain it, and always spoke of 'The Holy Book,' instead of 'Holy Bible,' it might come into more heads than it does at present, that the Word of God, by which the heavens were, of old, and by which they are now kept in store,[1] cannot be made a present of to anybody in morocco binding; nor sown on any wayside by help either of steam plough or steam press; but is nevertheless being offered to us daily, and by us with contumely refused; and sown in us daily, and by us, as instantly as may be, choked.

So, again, consider what effect has been produced on the English vulgar mind by the use of the sonorous Latin form 'damno,' in translating the Greek κατακρίνω, when people charitably wish to make it forcible; and the substitution of the temperate 'condemn' for it, when they choose to keep it gentle; and what notable sermons have been preached by illiterate clergymen on — 'He that believeth not shall be damned'; though they would shrink with horror from translating Heb. xi.7, 'The saving of his house, by which he damned the world,' or John viii.10-11, 'Woman, hath no man damned thee? She saith, No man, Lord. Jesus answered her, Neither do I damn thee: go and sin no more.' And divisions in the mind of Europe, which have cost seas of blood, and in the defence of which the noblest souls of men have been cast away in frantic desolation, countless as forest-leaves — though, in the heart of them, founded on deeper causes — have nevertheless been rendered practically possible, mainly, by the European adoption of the Greek word for a public meeting, 'ecclesia,' to give peculiar respectability to such meetings, when held for religious purposes; and other collateral equivocations, such as the vulgar English one of using the word 'priest' as a contraction for 'presbyter.'

Now, in order to deal with words rightly, this is the habit you must form. Nearly every word in your language has been first a word of some other language – of Saxon, German, French, Latin, or Greek; (not to speak of eastern and primitive dialects). And many words have been all these — that is to say, have been Greek first, Latin next, French or German next, and English last: undergoing a certain change of sense and use on the lips of each nation; but retaining a deep vital meaning, which all good scholars feel in employing them, even at this day. If you do not know the Greek alphabet, learn it; young or old — girl or boy — whoever you may be, if you think of reading seriously (which, of course, implies that you have some leisure at command), learn your Greek alphabet; then get good dictionaries of all these languages, and whenever you are in doubt about a word, hunt it down patiently. Read Max Müller's lectures thoroughly, to begin with; and, after that, never let a word escape you that looks suspicious. It is severe work; but you will find it, even at first, interesting, and at last endlessly amusing. And the general gain to your character, in power and precision, will be quite incalculable.

Mind, this does not imply knowing, or trying to know, Greek or Latin, or French. It takes a whole life to learn any language perfectly. But you can easily ascertain the meanings through which the English word has passed; and those which in a good writer's work it must still bear.

And now, merely for example's sake, I will, with your permission, read a few lines of a true book with you, carefully; and see what will come out of them. I will take a book perfectly known to you all. No English words are more familiar to us, yet few perhaps have been read with less sincerity. I will take these few following lines of Lycidas: —

'Last came, and last did go,

The pilot of the Galilean lake.

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain,

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,)

He shook his mitred locks, and stem bespake,

"How well could I have spared for thee, young swain,

Enow of such as for their bellies' sake

Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold!

Of other care they little reckoning make,

Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast,

And shove away the worthy bidden guest;

Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold

A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else, the least

That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!

What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;

And when they list, their lean and flashy songs

Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;

The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,

But, swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw,

Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread;

Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw

Daily devours apace, and nothing said.'

Let us think over this passage, and examine its words.

First, is it not singular to find Milton assigning to St Peter, not only his full episcopal function, but the very types of it which Protestants usually refuse most passionately? His 'mitred' locks! Milton was no Bishoplover; how comes St Peter to be 'mitred'? 'Two massy keys he bore.' Is this, then, the power of the keys claimed by the Bishops of Rome? and is it acknowledged here by Milton only in a poetical licence, for the sake of its picturesqueness, that he may get the gleam of the golden keys to help his effect?

Do not think it. Great men do not play stage tricks with the doctrines of life and death: only little men do that. Milton means what he says; and means it with his might too — is going to put the whole strength of his spirit presently into the saying of it. For though not a lover of false bishops, he was a lover of true ones; and the Lake-pilot is here, in his thoughts, the type and head of true episcopal power. For Milton reads that text, 'I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven,' quite honestly. Puritan though he be, he would not blot it out of the book because there have been bad bishops; nay, in order to understand him, we must understand that verse first; it will not do to eye it askance, or whisper it under our breath, as if it were a weapon of an adverse sect. It is a solemn, universal assertion, deeply to be kept in mind by all sects. But perhaps we shall be better able to reason on it if we go on a little farther, and come back to it. For clearly this marked insistence on the power of the true episcopate is to make us feel more weightily what is to be charged against the false claimants of episcopate; or generally, against false claimants of power and rank in the body of the clergy; they who, 'for their bellies' sake, creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold.'

Never think Milton uses those three words to fill up his verse, as a loose writer would. He needs all the three; — especially those three, and no more than those – 'creep,' and 'intrude,' and 'climb'; no other words would or could serve the turn, and no more could be added. For they exhaustively comprehend the three classes, correspondent to the three characters, of men who dishonestly seek ecclesiastical power. First, those who 'creep' into the fold; who do not care for office, nor name, but for secret influence, and do all things occulfiy and cunningly, consenting to any servility of office or conduct, so only that they may intimately discern, and unawares direct, the minds of men. Then those who 'intrude' (thrust, that is) themselves into the fold, who by natural insolence of heart, and stout eloquence of tongue, and fearlessly perseverant self-assertion, obtain hearing and authority with the common crowd. Lastly, those who 'climb,' who, by labour and learning, both stout and sound, but selfishly exerted in the cause of their own ambition, gain high dignities and authorities, and become 'lords over the heritage,' though not 'ensamples to the flock.'

Now go on: —

'Of other care they little reckoning make,

Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast.

Blind mouths — '

I pause again, for this is a strange expression; a broken metaphor, one might think, careless and unscholarly.

Not so: its very audacity and pithiness are intended to make us look dose at the phrase and remember it. Those two monosyllables express the precisely accurate contraries of right character, in the two great offices of the Church — those of bishop and pastor.

A 'Bishop' means 'a person who sees.'

A 'Pastor' means 'a person who feeds.'

The most unbishoply character a man can have is therefore to be Blind.

The most unpastoral is, instead of feeding, to want to be fed, — to be a Mouth.

Take the two reverses together, and you have 'blind mouths.' We may advisably follow out this idea a little. Nearly all the evils in the Church have arisen from bishops desiring power more than light. They want authority, not outlook. Whereas their real office is not to rule; though it may be vigorously to exhort and rebuke: it is the king's office to rule; the bishop's office is to oversee the flock; to number it, sheep by sheep; to be ready always to give full account of it. Now it is clear he cannot give account of the souls, if he has not so much as numbered the bodies, of his flock. The first thing, therefore, that a bishop has to do is at least to put himself in a position in which, at any moment, he can obtain the history, from childhood, of every living soul in his diocese, and of its present state. Down in that back street, Bill and Nancy, knocking each other's teeth out! — Does the bishop know all about it? Has he his eye upon them? Has he had his eye upon them? Can he circumstantially explain to us how Bill got into the habit of beating Nancy about the head? If he cannot, he is no bishop, though he had a mitre as high as Salisbury steeple; he is no bishop, — he has sought to be at the helm instead of the masthead; he has no sight of things. 'Nay,' you say, 'it is not his duty to look after Bill in the back street.' What! the fat sheep that have full fleeces — you think it is only those he should look after while (go back to your Milton) 'the hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, besides what the grim wolf, with privy paw' (bishops knowing nothing about it), 'daily devours apace, and nothing said'?

'But that's not our idea of a bishop.' Perhaps not; but it was St Paul's; and it was Milton's. They may be right, or we may be; but we must not think we are reading either one or the other by putting our meaning into their words.

I go on.

'But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw.'

This is to meet the vulgar answer that 'if the poor are not looked after in their bodies, they are in their souls; they have spiritual food.'

And Milton says, 'They have no such thing as spiritual food; they are only swollen with wind.' At first you may think that is a coarse type, and an obscure one. But again, it is a quite literally accurate one. Take up your Latin and Greek dictionaries, and find out the meaning of 'spirit.' It is only a contraction of the Latin word 'breath,' and an indistinct translation of the Greek word for 'wind.' The same word is used in writing, 'The wind bloweth where it listeth'; and in writing, 'so is every one that is born of the Spirit'; born of the breath, that is; for it means the breath of God, in soul and body. We have the true sense of it in our words 'inspiration' and 'expire.' Now, there are two kinds of breath with which the flock may be filled, — God's breath, and man's. The breath of God is health, and life, and peace to them, as the air of heaven is to the flocks on the hills; but man's breath — the word which he calls spiritual — is disease and contagion to them, as the fog of the fen. They rot inwardly with it; they are puffed up by it, as a dead body by the vapours of its own decomposition. This is literally true of all false religious teaching; the first and last, and fatalest sign of it, is that 'puffing up.' Your converted children, who teach their parents; your converted convicts, who teach honest men; your converted dunces, who, having lived in cretinous stupefaction half their lives, suddenly awaking to the fact of there being a God, fancy themselves therefore His peculiar people and messengers; your sectarians of every species, small and great, Catholic or Protestant, of high church or low, in so far as they think themselves exclusively in the right and others wrong; and, pre-eminently, in every sect, those who hold that men can be saved by thinking tightly instead of doing rightly, by word instead of act, and wish instead of work; — these are the true fog children — clouds, these, without water; bodies, these, of putrescent vapour and skin, without blood or flesh: blown bagpipes for the fiends to pipe with — corrupt, and corrupting, — 'swollen with wind, and the rank mist they draw.'

Lastly, let us return to the lines respecting the power of the keys, for now we can understand them. Note the difference between Milton and Dante in their interpretation of this power: for once, the latter is weaker in thought; he supposes both the keys to be of the gate of heaven; one is of gold, the other of silver: they are given by St Peter to the sentinel angel; and it is not easy to determine the meaning either of the substances of the three steps of the gate, or of the two keys. But Milton makes one, of gold, the key of heaven; the other, of iron, the key of the prison in which the wicked teachers are to be bound who 'have taken away the key of knowledge, yet entered not in themselves.'

We have seen that the duties of bishop and pastor are to see, and feed; and of all who do so it is said, 'He that watereth, shall be watered also himself.' But the reverse is truth also. He that watereth not, shall be withered himself; and he that seeth not, shall himself be shut out of sight — shut into the perpetual prison-house. And that prison opens here, as well as hereafter: he who is to be bound in heaven must first be bound on earth. That command to the strong angels, of which the rock-apostle is the image, 'Take him, and bind him hand and foot, and cast him out,' issues, in its measure, against the teacher, for every help withheld, and for every truth refused, and for every falsehood enforced; so that he is more strictly fettered the more he fetters, and farther outcast as he more and more misleads, till at last the bars of the iron cage close upon him, and as 'the golden opes, the iron shuts amain.'

We have got something out of the lines, I think, and much more is yet to be found in them; but we have done enough by way of example of the kind of word-by-word examination of your author which is rightly called 'reading'; watching every accent and expression, and putting ourselves always in the author's place, annihilating our own personality, and seeking to enter into his, so as to be able assuredly to say, 'Thus Milton thought,' not 'Thus I thought, in mis-reading Milton.' And by this process you will gradually come to attach less weight to your own 'Thus I thought' at other times. You will begin to perceive that what you thought was a matter of no serious importance; — that your thoughts on any subject are not perhaps the clearest and wisest that could be arrived at thereupon: — in fact, that unless you are a very singular person, you cannot be said to have any 'thoughts' at all; that you have no materials for them, in any serious matters:[2] — no right to 'think,' but only to try to learn more of the facts. Nay, most probably all your life (unless, as I said, you are a singular person) you will have no legitimate fight to an 'opinion' on any business, except that instantly under your hand. What must of necessity be done, you can always find out, beyond question, how to do. Have you a house to keep in order, a commodity to sell, a field to plough, a ditch to cleanse? There need be no two opinions about these proceedings; it is at your peril if you have not much more than an 'opinion' on the way to manage such matters. And also, outside of your own business, there are one or two subjects on which you are bound to have but one opinion. That roguery and lying are objection able, and are instantly to be flogged out of the way whenever discovered; — that covetousness and love of quarrelling are dangerous dispositions even in children, and deadly dispositions in men and nations; — that, in the end, the God of heaven and earth loves active, modest, and kind people, and hates idle, proud, greedy, and cruel ones; — on these general facts you are bound to have but one, and that a very strong, opinion. For the rest, respecting religions, governments, sciences, arts, you will find that, on the whole, you can know NOTHING, — judge nothing; that the best you can do, even though you may be a well-educated person, is to be silent, and strive to be wiser every day, and to understand a little more of the thoughts of others, which so soon as you try to do honestly, you will discover that the thoughts even of the wisest are very little more than pertinent questions. To put the difficulty into a dear shape, and exhibit to you the grounds for indecision, that is all they can generally do for you! — and well for them and for us, if indeed they are able 'to mix the music with our thoughts and sadden us with heavenly doubts.' This writer, from whom I have been reading to you, is not among the first or wisest: he sees shrewdly as far as he sees, and therefore it is easy to find out its full meaning; but with the greater men, you cannot fathom their meaning; they do not even wholly measure it themselves, — it is so wide. Suppose I had asked you, for instance, to seek for Shakespeare's opinion, instead of Milton's, on this matter of Church authority? — or for Dante's? Have any of you, at this instant, the least idea what either thought about it? Have you ever balanced the scene with the bishops in Richard III against the character of Cranmer? the description of St Francis and St Dominic against that of him who made Virgil wonder to gaze upon him, — 'disteso, tanto vilmente, nell' eterno esilio': or of him whom Dante stood beside, 'come 'l frate che confessa lo perfido assassin'? Shakespeare and Alighieri knew men better than most of us, I presume! They were both in the midst of the main struggle between the temporal and spiritual powers. They had an opinion, we may guess. But where is it? Bring it into court! Put Shakespeare's or Dante's creed into articles, and send it up for trial by the Ecclesiastical Courts!

You will not be able, I tell you again, for many and many a day, to come at the real purposes and teaching of these great men; but a very little honest study of them will enable you to perceive that what you took for your own 'judgment' was mere chance prejudice, and drifted, helpless, entangled weed of castaway thought; nay, you will see that most men's minds are indeed little better than rough heath wilderness, neglected and stubborn, partly barren, partly overgrown with pestilent brakes, and venomous, wind-sown herbage of evil surmise; that the first thing you have to do for them, and yourself, is eagerly and scornfully to set fire to this; burn all the jungle into wholesome ash-heaps, and then plough and sow. All the true literary work before you, for life, must begin with obedience to that order, 'Break up your fallow ground, and sow not among thorns.'

(II.) Having then faithfully listened to the great teachers, that you may enter into their Thoughts, you have yet this higher advance to make; — you have to enter into their Hearts. As you go to them first for clear sight, so you must stay with them, that you may share at last their just and mighty Passion. Passion, or 'sensation.' I am not afraid of the word; still less of the thing. You have heard many outcries against sensation lately; but, I can tell you, it is not less sensation we want, but more. The ennobling difference between one man and another, — between one animal and another, — is precisely in this, that one feels more than another. If we were sponges, perhaps sensation might not be easily got for us; if we were earth-worms, liable at every instant to be cut in two by the spade, perhaps too much sensation might not be good for us. But being human creatures, it is good for us; nay, we are only human in so far as we are sensitive, and our honour is precisely in proportion to our passion.

You know I said of that great and pure society of the Dead, that it would allow 'no vain or vulgar person to enter there.' What do you think I meant by a 'vulgar' person? What do you yourselves mean by 'vulgarity'? You will find it a fruitful subject of thought; but, briefly, the essence of all vulgarity lies in want of sensation. Simple and innocent vulgarity is merely an untrained and undeveloped bluntness of body and mind; but in true inbred vulgarity, there is a dreadful callousness, which, in extremity, becomes capable of every sort of bestial habit and crime, without fear, without pleasure, without horror, and without pity. It is in the blunt hand and the dead heart, in the diseased habit, in the hardened conscience, that men become vulgar; they are for ever vulgar, precisely in proportion as they are incapable of sympathy, — of quick understanding, — of all that, in deep insistence on the common, but most accurate term, may be called the 'tact' or 'touch-faculty,' of body and soul: that tact which the Mimosa has in trees, which the pure woman has above all creatures; — fineness and fulness of sensation, beyond reason; — the guide and sanctifier of reason itself. Reason can but determine what is true: — it is the God-given passion of humanity which alone can recognize what God has made good.

We come then to that great concourse of the Dead, not merely to know from them what is True, but chiefly to feel with them what is just. Now, to feel with them, we must be like them; and none of us can become that without pains. As the true knowledge is disciplined and tested knowledge, — not the first thought that comes, so the true passion is disciplined and tested passion, — not the first passion that comes. The first that come are the vain, the false, the treacherous; if you yield to them they will lead you wildly and far, in vain pursuit, in hollow enthusiasm, till you have no true purpose and no true passion left. Not that any feeling possible to humanity is in itself wrong, but only wrong when undisciplined. Its nobility is in its force and justice; it is wrong when it is weak, and felt for paltry cause. There is a mean wonder, as of a child who sees a juggler tossing golden balls; and this is base, if you will. But do you think that the wonder is ignoble, or the sensation less, with which every human soul is called to watch the golden balls of heaven tossed through the night by the Hand that made them? There is a mean curiosity, as of a child opening a forbidden door, or a servant prying into her master's business; — and a noble curiosity, questioning, in the front of danger, the source of the great river beyond the sand, — the place of the great continents beyond the sea; — a nobler curiosity still, which questions of the source of the River of Life, and of the space of the Continent of Heaven, — things which 'the angels desire to look into.' So the anxiety is ignoble, with which you linger over the course and catastrophe of an idle tale; but do you think the anxiety is less, or greater, with which you watch, or ought to watch, the dealings of fate and destiny with the life of an agonized nation? Alas! it is the narrowness, selfishness, minuteness, of your sensation that you have to deplore in England at this day; — sensation which spends itself in bouquets and speeches: in revellings and junketings; in sham fights and gay puppet shows, while you can look on and see noble nations murdered, man by man, without an effort or a tear.

I said 'minuteness' and 'selfishness' of sensation, but it would have been enough to have said 'injustice' or 'unrighteousness' of sensation. For as in nothing is a gentleman better to be discerned from a vulgar person, so in nothing is a gentle nation (such nations have been) better to be discerned from a mob, than in this, — that their feelings are constant and just, results of due contemplation, and of equal thought. You can talk a mob into anything; its feelings may be — usually are — on the whole, generous and right; but it has no foundation for them, no hold of them; you may tease or tickle it into any, at your pleasure; it thinks by infection, for the most part, catching an opinion like a cold, and there is nothing so little that it will not roar itself wild about, when the fit is on; — nothing so great but it will forget in an hour, when the fit is past. But a gentleman's, or a gentle nation's, passions are just, measured, and continuous. A great nation, for instance, does not spend its entire national wits for a couple of months in weighing evidence of a single ruffian's having done a single murder; and for a couple of years see its own children murder each other by their thousands or tens of thousands a day, considering only what the effect is likely to be on the price of cotton, and caring no wise to determine which side of battle is in the wrong. Neither does a great nation send its poor little boys to jail for stealing six walnuts; and allow its bankrupts to steal their hundreds of thousands with a bow, and its bankers, rich with poor men's savings, to close their doors 'under circumstances over which they have no control, ' with a 'by your leave'; and large landed estates to be bought by men who have made their money by going with armed steamers up and down the China Seas, selling opium at the cannon's mouth, and altering, for the benefit of the foreign nation, the common highwayman's demand of 'your money or your life, ' into that of 'your money and your life.' Neither does a great nation allow the lives of its innocent poor to be parched out of them by fog fever, and rotted out of them by dunghill plague, for the sake of sixpence a life extra per week to its landlords; and then debate, with drivelling tears, and diabolical sympathies, whether it ought not piously to save, and nursingly cherish, the lives of its murderers. Also, a great nation having made up its mind that hanging is quite the wholesomest process for its homicides in general, can yet with mercy distinguish between the degrees of guilt in homicides; and does not yelp like a pack of frost-pinched wolf-cubs on the blood-track of an unhappy crazed boy, or greyhaired clodpate Othello, 'perplexed i' the extreme,' at the very moment that it is sending a Minister of the Crown to make polite speeches to a man who is bayoneting young girls in their fathers' sight, and killing noble youths in cool blood, faster than a country butcher kills lambs in spring. And, lastly, a great nation does not mock Heaven and its Powers, by pretending belief in a revelation which asserts the love of money to be the root of all evil, and declaring, at the same time, that it is actuated, and intends to be actuated, in all chief national deeds and measures, by no other love.

My friends, I do not know why any of us should talk about reading. We want some sharper discipline than that of reading; but, at all events, be assured, we cannot read. No reading is possible for a people with its mind in this state. No sentence of any great writer is intelligible to them. It is simply and sternly impossible for the English public, at this moment, to understand any thoughtful writing, — so incapable of thought has it become in its insanity of avarice. Happily, our disease is, as yet, little worse than this incapacity of thought; it is not corruption of the inner nature; we ring true still, when anything strikes home to us; and though the idea that everything should 'pay' has infected our every purpose so deeply, that even when we would play the good Samaritan, we never take out our two pence and give them to the host, without saying, 'When I come again, thou shalt give me fourpence,' there is a capacity of noble passion left in our hearts' core. We show it in our work — in our war, — even in those unjust domestic affections which make us furious at a small private wrong, while we are polite to a boundless public one: we are still industrious to the last hour of the day, though we add the gambler's fury to the labourer's patience; we are still brave to the death, though incapable of discerning true cause for battle; and are still true in affection to our own flesh, to the death, as the sea monsters are, and the rock-eagles. And there is hope for a nation while this can be still said of it. As long as it holds its life in its hand, ready to give it for its honour (though a foolish honour), for its love (though a selfish love), and for its business (though a base business), there is hope for it. But hope only; for this instinctive, reckless virtue cannot last. No nation can last, which has made a mob of itself, however generous at heart. It must discipline its passions, and direct them, or they will discipline it, one day, with scorpion whips. Above all, a nation cannot last as a money-making mob: it cannot with impunity, — it cannot with existence, — go on despising literature, despising science, despising art, despising nature, despising compassion, and concentrating its soul on Pence. Do you think these are harsh or wild words? Have patience with me but a little longer. I will prove their truth to you, clause by clause.

(I.) I say first we have despised literature. What do we, as a nation, care about books? How much do you think we spend altogether on our libraries, public or private, as compared with what we spend on our horses? If a man spends lavishly on his library, you call him mad — a bibliomaniac. But you never call any one a horsemaniac, though men ruin themselves every day by their horses, and you do not hear of people ruining themselves by their books. Or, to go lower still, how much do you think the contents of the book-shelves of the United Kingdom, public and private, would fetch, as compared with the contents of its wine-cellars? What position would its expenditure on literature take, as compared with its expenditure on luxurious eating? We talk of food for the mind, as of food for the body: now a good book contains such food inexhaustibly; it is a provision for life, and for the best part of us; yet how long most people would look at the best book before they would give the price of a large turbot for it? Though there have been men who have pinched their stomachs and bared their backs to buy a book, whose libraries were cheaper to them, I think, in the end, than most men's dinners are. We are few of us put to such trial, and more the pity; for, indeed, a precious thing is all the more precious to us if it has been won by work or economy; and if public libraries were half so costly as public dinners, or books cost the tenth part of what bracelets do, even foolish men and women might sometimes suspect there was good in reading, as well as in munching and sparkling: whereas the very cheapness of literature is making even wise people forget that if a book is worth reading, it is worth buying. No book is worth anything which is not worth much; nor is it serviceable, until it has been read, and re-read, and loved, and loved again; and marked, so that you can refer to the passages you want in it, as a soldier can seize the weapon he needs in an armoury, or a housewife bring the spice she needs from her store. Bread of flour is good; but there is bread, sweet as honey, if we would eat it, in a good book; and the family must be poor indeed, which, once in their lives, cannot, for such multipliable barley-loaves, pay their baker's bill. We call ourselves a rich nation, and we are filthy and foolish enough to thumb each other's books out of circulating libraries!

(II.) I say we have despised science. 'What!' you exclaim, 'are we not foremost in all discovery,[3] and is not the whole world giddy by reason, or unreason, of our inventions?' Yes; but do you suppose that is national work? That work is all done in spite of the nation; by private people's zeal and money. We are glad enough, indeed, to make our profit of science; we snap up anything in the way of a scientific bone that has meat on it, eagerly enough; but if the scientific man comes for a bone or a crust to us, that is another story. What have we publicly done for science? We are obliged to know what o'clock it is, for the safety of our ships, and therefore we pay for an observatory; and we allow ourselves, in the person of our Parliament, to be annually tormented into doing something, in a slovenly way, for the British Museum; sullenly apprehending that to be a place for keeping stuffed birds in, to amuse our children. If anybody will pay for their own telescope, and resolve another nebula, we cackle over the discernment as if it were our own; if one in ten thousand of our hunting squires suddenly perceives that the earth was indeed made to be something else than a portion for foxes, and burrows in it himself, and tells us where the gold is, and where the coals, we understand that there is some use in that; and very properly knight him: but is the accident of his having found out how to employ himself usefully any credit to us? (The negation of such discovery among his brother squires may perhaps be some discredit to us, if we would consider of it.) But if you doubt these generalities, here is one fact for us all to mediate upon, illustrative of our love of science. Two years ago there was a collection of the fossils of Solenhofen to be sold in Bavaria; the best in existence, containing many specimens unique for perfectness, and one unique as an example of a species (a whole kingdom of unknown living creatures being announced by that fossil). This collection, of which the mere market worth, among private buyers, would probably have been some thou sand or twelve hundred pounds, was offered to the English nation for seven hundred: but we would not give seven hundred, and the whole series would have been in the Munich Museum at this moment, if Professor Owen had not, with loss of his own time, and patient tormenting of the British public in person of its representatives, got leave to give four hundred pounds at once, and himself became answerable for the other three! which the said public will doubtless pay him eventually, but sulkily, and caring nothing about the matter all the while; only always ready to cackle if any credit comes of it. Consider, I beg of you, arithmetically, what this fact means. Your annual expenditure for public purposes, (a third of it for military apparatus,) is at least 50 millions. Now £700 is to £50,000,000 roughly, as seven pence to two thousand pounds. Suppose, then, a gentleman of unknown income, but whose wealth was to be conjectured from the fact that he spent two thousand a year on his park-walls and footmen only, professes himself fond of science; and that one of his servants comes eagerly to tell him that an unique collection of fossils, giving clue to a new era of creation, is to be had for a sum of seven pence sterling; and that the gentleman who is fond of science, and spends two thousand a year on his park, answers, after keeping his servant waiting several months, 'Well! I'll give you fourpence for them, if you will be answerable for the extra threepence yourself, till next year!'

(III.) I say you have despised Art! 'What!' you again answer, 'have we not Art exhibitions, miles long? and do we not pay thousands of pounds for single pictures? and have we not Art schools and institutions, more than ever nation had before?' Yes, truly, but all that is for the sake of the shop. You would fain sell canvas as well as coals, and crockery as well as iron; you would take every other nation's bread out of its mouth if you could; not being able to do that, your ideal of life is to stand in the thoroughfares of the world, like Ludgate apprentices, screaming to every passer-by, 'What d'ye lack?' You know nothing of your own faculties or circumstances; you fancy that, among your damp, fiat, fat fields of day, you can have as quick art-fancy as the Frenchman among his bronzed vines, or the Italian under his volcanic cliffs; — that Art may be learned, as book-keeping is, and when learned, will give you more books to keep. You care for pictures, absolutely, no more than you do for the bills pasted on your dead walls. There is always room on the walls for the bills to be read, — never for the pictures to be seen. You do not know what pictures you have (by repute) in the country, nor whether they are false or true, nor whether they are taken care of or not; in foreign countries, you calmly see the noblest existing pictures in the world rotting in abandoned wreck — (in Venice you saw the Austrian guns deliberately pointed at the palaces containing them), and if you heard that all the fine pictures in Europe were made into sand-bags tomorrow on the Austrian forts, it would not trouble you so much as the chance of a brace or two of game less in your own bags, in a day's shooting. That is your national love of Art.

(IV.) You have despised Nature; that is to say, all the deep and sacred sensations of natural scenery. The French revolutionists made stables of the cathedrals of France; you have made race-courses of the cathedrals of the earth. Your one conception of pleasure is to drive in railroad carriages round their aisles, and eat off their altars.[4] You have put a railroad-bridge over the falls of Schaffhausen. You have tunnelled the cliffs of Lucerne by Tell's chapel; you have destroyed the Clarens shore of the Lake of Geneva; there is not a quiet valley in England that you have not filled with bellowing fire; there is no particle left of English land which you have not trampled coal ashes into[5] — nor any foreign city in which the spread of your presence is not marked among its fair old streets and happy gardens by a consuming white leprosy of new hotels and perfumers' shops: the Alps themselves, which your own poets used to love so reverently, you look upon as soaped poles in a bear garden, which you set yourselves to climb and slide down again, with 'shrieks of delight.' When you are past shrieking, having no human articulate voice to say you are glad with, you fill the quietude of their valleys with gunpowder blasts, and rush home, red with cutaneous eruption of conceit, and voluble with convulsive hiccough of self-satisfaction. I think nearly the two sorrowfullest spectacles I have ever seen in humanity, taking the deep inner significance of them, are the English mobs in the valley of Chamouni, amusing themselves with firing rusty howitzers; and the Swiss vintagers of Zurich expressing their Christian thanks for the gift of the vine, by assembling in knots in the 'towers of the vineyards,' and slowly loading and firing horse-pistols from morning till evening. It is pitiful, to have dim conceptions of duty; more pitiful, it seems to me, to have conceptions like these, of mirth.

Lastly. You despise compassion. There is no need of words of mine for proof of this. I will merely print one of the newspaper paragraphs which I am in the habit of cutting out and throwing into my store-drawer; here is one from a Morning Post of an early date this year (1865); […] it relates only one of such facts as happen now daily; this by chance having taken a form in which it came before the coroner. I will print the paragraph in red. Be sure, the facts themselves are written in that colour, in a book which we shall all of us, literate or illiterate, have to read our page of, some day.

'An inquiry was held on Friday by Mr Richards, deputy coroner, at the White Horse Tavern, Christ Church, Spitalfields, respecting the death of Michael Collins, aged 58 years. Mary Collins, a miserable-looking woman, said that she lived with the deceased and his son in a room at 2, Cobb's Court, Christ Church. Deceased was a "translator" of boots. Witness went out and bought old boots; deceased and his son made them into good ones, and then witness sold them for what she could get at the shops, which was very little indeed. Deceased and his son used to work night and day to try and get a little bread and tea, and pay for the room (2s. a week), so as to keep the home together. On Friday-night-week deceased got up from his bench and began to shiver. He threw down the boots, saying, "Somebody else must finish them when I am gone, for I can do no more." There was no fire, and he said, "I would be better if I was warm." Witness therefore took two pairs of translated boots to sell at the shop, but she could only get 14d. for the two pairs, for the people at the shop said, "We must have our profit." Witness got 14 lb. of coal, and a little tea and bread. Her son sat up the whole night to make the "translations," to get money, but deceased died on Saturday morning. The family never had enough to eat. — Coroner: "It seems to me deplorable that you did not go into the workhouse." Witness: "We wanted the comforts of our little home." A juror asked what the comforts were, for he only saw a little straw in the comer of the room, the windows of which were broken. The witness began to cry, and said that they had a quilt and other little things. The deceased said he never would go into the workhouse. In summer, when the season was good, they sometimes made as much as ios. profit in the week. They then always saved towards the next week, which was generally a bad one. In winter they made not half so much. For three years they had been getting from bad to worse. — Cornelius Collins said that he had assisted his father since 1847. They used to work so far into the night that both nearly lost their eyesight. Witness now had a film over his eyes. Five years ago deceased applied to the parish for aid. The relieving officer gave him a 4 lb. loaf, and told him if he came again he should "get the stones."[6] That disgusted deceased, and he would have nothing to do with them since. They got worse and worse until last Friday week, when they had not even a halfpenny to buy a candle. Deceased then lay down on the straw, and said he could not live fill morning. — A juror: "You are dying of starvation yourself, and you ought to go into the house until the summer." — Witness: "If we went in we should die. When we come out in the summer we should be like people dropped from the sky. No one would know us, and we would not have even a room. I could work now if I had food, for my sight would get better.' Dr G. P. Walker said deceased died from syncope, from exhaustion from want of food. The deceased had had no bedclothes. For four months he had had nothing but bread to eat. There was not a particle of fat in the body. There was no disease, but, if there had been medical attendance, he might have survived the syncope or fainting. The Coroner having remarked upon the painful nature of the case, the jury returned the following verdict: "That deceased died from exhaustion from want of food and the common necessaries of life; also through want of medical aid." '

'Why would witness not go into the workhouse?' you ask. Well, the poor seem to have a prejudice against the workhouse which the rich have not; for of course everyone who takes a pension from Government goes into the workhouse on a grand scale:[7] only the workhouses for the rich do not involve the idea of work, and should be called play-houses. But the poor like to die independently, it appears; perhaps if we made the play houses for them pretty and pleasant enough, or gave them their pensions at home, and allowed them a little introductory peculation with the public money, their minds might be reconciled to the conditions. Meantime, here are the facts: we make our relief either so insulting to them, or so painful, that they rather die than take it at our hands; or, for third alternative, we leave them so untaught and foolish that they starve like brute creatures, wild and dumb, not knowing what to do, or what to ask. I say, you despise compassion; if you did not, such a newspaper paragraph would be as impossible in a Christian country as a deliberate assassination permitted in its public streets. 'Christian,' did I say? Alas! If we were but wholesomely un-Christian, it would be impossible: it is our imaginary Christianity that helps us to commit these crimes, for we revel and luxuriate in our faith, for the lewd sensation of it; dressing it up, like everything else, in fiction. The dramatic Christianity of the organ and aisle, of dawn-service and twilight-revival- the Christianity, which we do not fear to mix the mockery of, pictorially, with our play about the devil, in our Satanellas, — Roberts, — Fausts; chanting hymns through traceried windows for background effect, and artistically modulating the 'Dio' through variation on variation of mimicked prayer: (while we distribute tracts, next day, for the benefit of uncultivated swearers, upon what we suppose to be the signification of the Third Commandment; —) this gas-lighted, and gas-inspired Christianity, we are triumphant in, and draw back the hem of our robes from the touch of the heretics who dispute it. But to do a piece of common Christian righteousness in a plain English word or deed; to make Christian law any rule of life, and found one National act or hope thereon, — we know too well what our faith comes to for that! You might sooner get lightning out of incense smoke than true action or passion out of your modem English religion. You had better get rid of the smoke, and the organ pipes, both: leave them, and the Gothic windows, and the painted glass, to the property man; give up your carburetted hydrogen ghost in one healthy expiration, and look after Lazarus at the doorstep. For there is a true Church wherever one hand meets another helpfully, and that is the only holy or Mother Church which ever was, or ever shall be.

All these pleasures then, and all these virtues, I repeat, you nationally despise. You have, indeed, men among you who do not; by whose work, by whose strength, by whose life, by whose death, you live, and never thank them. Your wealth, your amusement, your pride, would all be alike impossible, but for those whom you scorn or forget. The policeman, who is walking up and down the black lane all night to watch the guilt you have created there; and may have his brains beaten out, and be maimed for life, at any moment, and never be thanked; the sailor wrestling with the sea's rage; the quiet student poring over his book or his vial; the common worker, without praise, and nearly without bread, fulfilling his task as your horses drag your carts, hopeless, and spumed of all: these are the men by whom England lives; but they are not the nation; they are only the body and nervous force of it, acting still from old habit in a convulsive perseverance, while the mind is gone. Our National wish and purpose are only to be amused; our National religion is the performance of church ceremonies, and preaching of soporific truths (or untruths) to keep the mob quietly at work, while we amuse ourselves; and the necessity for this amusement is fastening on us, as a feverous disease of parched throat and wandering eyes — senseless, dissolute, merciless. How literally that word Dis-Ease, the Negation and impossibility of Ease, expressed the entire moral state of our English Industry and its Amusements!

When men are rightly occupied, their amusement grows out of their work, as the colour-petals out of a fruitful flower; — when they are faithfully helpful and compassionate, all their emotions become steady, deep, perpetual, and vivifying to the soul as the natural pulse to the body. But now, having no true business, we pour our whole masculine energy into the false business of money-making; and having no true emotion, we must have false emotions dressed up for us to play with, not innocently, as children with dolls, but guiltily and darkly, as the idolatrous Jews with their pictures on cavern walls, which men had to dig to detect. The justice we do not execute, we mimic in the novel and on the stage; for the beauty we destroy in nature, we substitute the metamorphosis of the pantomime, and (the human nature of us imperatively requiring awe and sorrow of some kind) for the noble grief we should have borne with our fellows, and the pure tears we should have wept with them, we gloat over the pathos of the police court, and gather the night-dew of the grave.

It is difficult to estimate the true significance of these things; the facts are frightful enough; — the measure of national fault involved in them is perhaps not as great as it would at first seem. We permit, or cause, thousands of deaths daily, but we mean no harm; we set fire to houses, and ravage peasants' fields, yet we should be sorry to find we had injured anybody. We are still kind at heart; still capable of virtue, but only as children are. Chalmers, at the end of his long life, having had much power with the public, being plagued in some serious matter by a reference to 'public opinion,' uttered the impatient exclamation, 'The public is just a great baby!' And the reason that I have allowed all these graver subjects of thought to mix themselves up with an inquiry into methods of reading, is that, the more I see of our national faults or miseries, the more they resolve themselves into conditions of childish illiterateness and want of education in the most ordinary habits of thought. It is, I repeat, not vice, not selfishness, not dulness of brain, which we have to lament; but an unreachable schoolboy's recklessness, only differing from the true schoolboy's in its incapacity of being helped, because it acknowledges no master.

There is a curious type of us given in one of the lovely, neglected works of the last of our great painters. It is a drawing of Kirkby Lonsdale churchyard, and of its brook, and valley, and hills, and folded morning sky beyond. And unmindful alike of these, and of the dead who have left these for other valleys and for other skies, a group of schoolboys have pried their little books upon a grave, to strike them off with stones. So, also, we play with the words of the dead that would teach us, and strike them far from us with our bitter, reckless will; little thinking that those leaves which the wind scatters had been pried, not only upon a gravestone, but upon the seal of an enchanted vault — nay, the gate of a great city of sleeping kings, who would awake for us and walk with us, if we knew but how to call them by their names. How often, even if we lift the marble entrance gate, do we but wander among those old kings in their repose, and finger the robes they lie in, and stir the crowns on their foreheads; and still they are silent to us, and seem but a dusty imagery; because we know not the incantation of the heart that would wake them; — which, if they once heard, they would start up to meet us in their power of long ago, narrowly to look upon us, and consider us; and, as the fallen kings of Hades meet the newly fallen, saying, 'Art thou also become weak as we — art thou also become one of us?' so would these kings, with their undimmed, unshaken diadems, meet us, saying, 'Art thou also become pure and mighty of heart as we — art thou also become one of us?'

Mighty of heart, mighty of mind — 'magnanimous' — to be this, is indeed to be great in life; to become this increasingly, is, indeed, to 'advance in life,' — in life itself — not in the trappings of it. My friends, do you remember that old Scythian custom, when the head of a house died? How he was dressed in his finest dress, and set in his chariot, and carried about to his friends' houses; and each of them placed him at his table's head, and all feasted in his presence? Suppose it were offered to you in plain words, as it is offered to you in dire facts, that you should gain this Scythian honour, gradually, while you yet thought yourself alive. Suppose the offer were this: You shall die slowly; your blood shall daily grow cold, your flesh petrify, your heart beat at last only as a rusted group of iron valves. Your life shall fade from you, and sink through the earth into the ice of Caina; but, day by day, your body shall be dressed more gaily, and set in higher chariots, and have more orders on its breast — crowns on its head, if you will. Men shall bow before it, stare and shout round it, crowd after it up and down the streets; build palaces for it, feast with it at their tables' heads all the night long; your soul shall stay enough within it to know what they do, and feel the weight of the golden dress on its shoulders, and the furrow of the crown-edge on the skull; — no more. Would you take the offer, verbally made by the death-angel? Would the meanest among us take it, think you? Yet practically and verily we grasp at it, every one of us, in a measure; many of us grasp at it in its fulness of horror. Every man accepts it, who desires to advance in life without knowing what life is; who means only that he is to get more horses, and more footmen, and more fortune, and more public honour, and — not more personal soul. He only is advancing in life, whose heart is getting softer, whose blood wanner, whose brain quicker, whose spirit is entering into Living peace. And the men who have this life in them are the true lords or kings of the earth — they, and they only. All other king ships, so far as they are true, are only the practical issue and expression of theirs; if less than this, they are either dramatic royalties, — costly shows, set. off, indeed, with real jewels, instead of tinsel — but still only the toys of nations; or else they are no royalties at all, but tyrannies, or the mere active and practical issue of national folly; for which reason I have said of them elsewhere, 'Visible governments are the toys of some nations, the diseases of others, the harness of some, the burdens of more. '

But I have no words for the wonder with which I hear Kinghood still spoken of, even among thoughtful men, as if governed nations were a personal property, and might be bought and sold, or otherwise acquired, as sheep, of whose flesh their king was to feed, and whose fleece he was to gather; as if Achilles' indignant epithet of base kings, 'people-eating, ' were the constant and proper title of all monarchs; and the enlargement of a king's dominion meant the same thing as the increase of a private man's estate! Kings who think so, however powerful, can no more be the true kings of the nation than gadflies are the kings of a horse; they suck it, and may drive it wild, but do not guide it. They, and their courts, and their armies are, if one could see clearly, only a large species of marsh mosquito, with bayonet proboscis and melodious, band-mastered trumpeting, in the summer air; the twilight being, perhaps, sometimes fairer, but hardly more wholesome, for its glittering mists of midge companies. The true kings, meanwhile, rule quietly, if at all, and hate ruling; too many of them make 'il gran rifiuto'; and if they do not, the mob, as soon as they are likely to become useful to it, is pretty sure to make its 'gran rifiuto' of them.

Yet the visible king may also be a true one, some day, if ever day comes when he will estimate his dominion by the force of it, — not the geographical boundaries. It matters very little whether Trent cuts you a cantel out here, or Rhine rounds you a castle less there. But it does matter to you, king of men, whether you can verily say to this man, 'Go,' and he goeth; and to another, 'Come,' and he cometh. Whether you can mm your people, as you can Trent — and where it is that you bid them come, and where go. It matters to you, king of men, whether your people hate you, and die by you, or love you, and live by you. You may measure your dominion by multitudes, better than by miles; and count degrees of love-latitude, not from, but to, a wonderfully warm and infinite equator.

Measure! — nay, you cannot measure. Who shall measure the difference between the power of those who 'do and teach,' and who are greatest in the kingdoms of earth, as of heaven — and the power of those who undo, and consume — whose power, at the fullest, is only the power of the moth and the rust? Strange! to think how the Moth-kings lay up treasures for the moth; and the Rust-kings, who are to their peoples' strength as rust to armour, lay up treasures for the rust; and the Robberkings, treasures for the robber; but how few kings have ever laid up treasures that needed no guarding- treasures of which, the more thieves there were, the better! Broidered robe, only to be rent; helm and sword, only to be dimmed; jewel and gold, only to be scattered; — there have been three kinds of kings who have gathered these. Suppose there ever should arise a Fourth order of kings, who had read, in some obscure writing of long ago, that there was a Fourth kind of treasure, which the jewel and gold could not equal, neither should it be valued with pure gold. A web made fair in the weaving, by Athena's shuttle; an armour, forged in divine fire by Vulcanian force; a gold to be mined in the very sun's red heart, where he sets over the Delphian cliffs; — deep-pictured tissue; — impenetrable armour; — potable gold! — the three great Angels of Conduct, Toil, and Thought, still calling to us, and waiting at the posts of our doors, to lead us, with their winged power, and guide us, with their unerring eyes, by the path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye has not seen! Suppose kings should ever arise, who heard and believed this word, and at last gathered and brought forth treasures of — Wisdom — for their people?

Think what an amazing business that would be! How inconceivable, in the state of our present national wisdom! That we should bring up our peasants to a book exercise instead of a bayonet exercise! — organise, drill, maintain with pay, and good generalship, armies of thinkers, instead of armies of stabbers! — find national amusement in reading-rooms as well as riflegrounds; give prizes for a fair shot at a fact, as well as for a leaden splash on a target. What an absurd idea it seems, put fairly in words, that the wealth of the capitalists of civilized nations should ever come to support literature instead of war!

Have yet patience with me, while I read you a single sentence out of the only book, properly to be called a book, that I have yet written myself, the one that will stand (if anything stand), surest and longest of all work of mine.

'It is one very awful form of the operation of wealth in Europe that it is entirely capitalists' wealth which supports unjust wars. Just wars do not need so much money to support them; for most of the men who wage such, wage them gratis; but for an unjust war, men's bodies and souls have both to be bought; and the best tools of war for them besides, which make such war costly to the maximum; not to speak of the cost of base fear, and angry suspicion, between nations which have not grace nor honesty enough in all their multitudes to buy an hour's peace of mind with; as, at present, France and England, purchasing of each other ten millions sterling worth of consternation, annually (a remarkably light crop, half thorns and half aspen leaves, sown, reaped, and granaried by the "science" of the modem political economist, teaching covetousness instead of truth). And, all unjust war being supportable, if not by pillage of the enemy, only by loans from capitalists, these loans are repaid by subsequent taxation of the people, who appear to have no will in the matter, the capitalists' will being the primary root of the war; but its real root is the covetousness of the whole nation, rendering it incapable of faith, frankness, or justice, and bringing about, therefore, in due time, his own separate loss and punishment to each person.'

France and England literally, observe, buy panic of each other; they pay, each of them, for ten thousand-thousand-pounds' — worth of terror, a year. Now suppose, instead of buying these ten millions' worth of panic annually, they made up their minds to be at peace with each other, and buy ten millions' worth of knowledge annually; and that each nation spent its ten thousand thousand pounds a year in founding royal libraries, royal art galleries, royal museums, royal gardens, and places of rest. Might it not be better somewhat for both French and English?

It will be long, yet, before that comes to pass. Nevertheless, I hope it will not be long before royal or national libraries will be founded in every considerable city, with a royal series of books in them; the same series in every one of them, chosen books, the best in every kind, prepared for that national series in the most perfect way possible; their text printed all on leaves of equal size, broad of margin, and divided into pleasant volumes, light in the hand, beautiful, and strong, and thorough as examples of binders' work; and that these great libraries will be accessible to all clean and orderly persons at all times of the day and evening; strict law being enforced for this cleanliness and quietness.

I could shape for you other plans, for art-galleries, and for natural history galleries, and for many precious — many, it seems to me, needful — things; but this book plan is the easiest and needfullest, and would prove a considerable tonic to what we call our British constitution, which has fallen dropsical of late, and has an evil thirst, and evil hunger, and wants healthier feeding. You have got its corn laws repealed for it; try if you cannot get corn laws established for it, dealing in a better bread; — bread made of that old enchanted Arabian grain, the Sesame, which opens doors; — doors not of robbers', but of Kings' Treasuries.

Notes

1. 2 Peter iii. 5-7.

2. Modem 'Education' for the most part signifies giving people the faculty of thinking wrong on every conceivable subject of importance to them.

3. Since this was written, the answer has become definitely — No; we having surrendered the field of Arctic discovery to the Continental nations, as being ourselves too poor to pay for ships.

4. I meant that the beautiful places of the world — Switzerland, Italy, South Germany, and so on — are, indeed, the truest cathedrals — places to be reverent in, and to worship in; and that we only care to drive through them: and to eat and drink at their most sacred places.

5. I was singularly struck, some years ago, by finding all the river shore at Richmond, in Yorkshire, black in its earth, from the mere drift of soot-laden air from places many miles away.

6. This abbreviation of the penalty of useless labour is curiously coincident in verbal form with a certain passage which some of us may remember. It may perhaps be well to preserve beside this paragraph another cutting out of my store-drawer, from the Morning Post, of about a parallel date, Friday, March 10th, 1865: — 'The salons of Mme. C —, who did the honours with clever imitative grace and elegance, were crowded with princes, dukes, marquises, and counts — in fact, with the same male company as one meets at the parties of the Princess Metternich and Madame Drouyn de Lhuys. Some English peers and members of Parliament were present, and appeared to enjoy the animated and dazzlingly improper scene. On the second floor the supper tables were loaded with every delicacy of the season. That your readers may form some idea of the dainty fare of the Parisian demi-monde, I copy the menu of the supper, which was served to all the guests (about 200) seated at four o'clock. Choice Yquem, Johannisberg, Laffitte, Tokay, and champagne of the finest vintages were served most lavishly throughout the morning. After supper dancing was resumed with increased animation, and the ball terminated with a chaîne diabolique and a cancan d'enfer at seven in the morning. (Morning service — 'Ere the fresh lawns appeared, under the opening eyelids of the Morn. —') Here is the menu: — 'Consommé de volaille à la Bagration: 16 hors-dœvres variés. Bouchées à la Talleyrand. Saumons froids, sauce Ravigote. Filets de bœuf en Bellevue, timbales milanaises, chaudfroid de gibier. Dindes truffées. Pâtés de foies gras, buissons d'écrevisses, salades vénétiennes, gelées blanches aux fruits, gâteaux mancini, parisiens et parisiennes. Fromages glacés. Ananas. Dessert. "'

7. Please observe this statement, and think of it, and consider how it happens that a poor old woman will be ashamed to take a shilling a week from the country — but no one is ashamed to take a pension of a thousand a year.

Traffic

Delivered in the Town Hall, Bradford

[April 21, 1864]

My good Yorkshire friends, you asked me down here among your hills that I might talk to you about this Exchange you are going to build: but, earnestly and seriously asking you to pardon me, I am going to do nothing of the kind. I cannot talk, or at least can say very little, about this same Exchange. I must talk of quite other things, though not willingly; — I could not deserve your pardon, if, when you invited me to speak on one subject, I wilfully spoke on another. But I cannot speak, to purpose, of anything about which I do not care; and most simply and sorrowfully I have to tell you, in the outset, that I do not care about this Exchange of yours.

If, however, when you sent me your invitation, I had answered, 'I won't come, I don't care about the Exchange of Bradford,' you would have been justly offended with me, not knowing the reasons of so blunt a carelessness. So I have come down, hoping that you will patiently let me tell you why, on this, and many other such occasions, I now remain silent, when formerly I should have caught at the opportunity of speaking to a gracious audience.

In a word, then, I do not care about this Exchange — because you don't; and because you know perfectly well I cannot make you. Look at the essential conditions of the case, which you, as business men, know perfectly well, though perhaps you think I forget them. You are going to spend £30,000, which to you, collectively, is nothing; the buying a new coat is, as to the cost of it, a much more important matter of consideration to me, than building a new Exchange is to you. But you think you may as well have the right thing for your money. You know there are a great many odd styles of architecture about; you don't want to do anything ridiculous; you hear of me, among others, as a respectable architectural man-milliner; and you send for me, that I may tell you the leading fashion; and what is, in our shops, for the moment, the newest and sweetest thing in pinnacles.

Now, pardon me for telling you frankly, you cannot have good architecture merely by asking people's advice on occasion. All good architecture is the expression of national life and character; and it is produced by a prevalent and eager national taste, or desire for beauty. And I want you to think a little of the deep significance of this word 'taste'; for no statement of mine has been more earnestly or oftener controverted than that good taste is essentially a moral quality. 'No,' say many of my antagonists, 'taste is one thing, morality is another. Tell us what is pretty: we shall be glad to know that; but we need no sermons — even were you able to preach them, which may be doubted. '

Permit me, therefore, to fortify this old dogma of mine somewhat. Taste is not only a part and an index of morality; — it is the only morality. The first, and last, and closest trial question to any living creature is, 'What do you like?' Tell me what you like, and I'll tell you what you are. Go out into the street, and ask the first man or woman you meet, what their 'taste' is; and if they answer candidly, you know them, body and soul. 'You, my friend in the rags, with the unsteady gait, what do you like?' 'A pipe, and a quartern of gin.' I know you. 'You, good woman, with the quick step and tidy bonnet, what do you like?' 'A swept hearth, and a dean tea-table; and my husband opposite me, and a baby at my breast.' Good, I know you also. 'You, little girl with the golden hair and the soft eyes, what do you like?' 'My canary, and a run among the wood hyacinths.' 'You, little boy with the dirty hands, and the low forehead, what do you like?' 'A shy at the sparrows, and a game at pitch farthing.' Good; we know them all now. What more need we ask?

'Nay,' perhaps you answer; 'we need rather to ask what these people and children do, than what they like. If they do fight, it is no matter that they like what is wrong; and if they do wrong, it is no matter that they like what is fight. Doing is the great thing; and it does not matter that the man likes drinking, so that he does not drink; nor that the little girl likes to be kind to her canary, if she will not learn her lessons; nor that the little boy likes throwing stones at the sparrows, if he goes to the Sunday school.' Indeed, for a short time, and in a provisional sense, this is true. For if, resolutely, people do what is fight, in time to come they like doing it. But they only are in a right moral state when they have come to like doing it; and as long as they don't like it, they are still in a vicious state. The man is not in health of body who is always thinking of the bottle in the cupboard, though he bravely bears his thirst; but the man who heartily enjoys water in the morning, and wine in the evening, each in its proper quantity and time. And the entire object of true education is to make people not merely do the fight things, but enjoy the right things: — not merely industrious, but to love industry — not merely learned, but to love knowledge — not merely pure, but to love purity — not merely just, but to hunger and thirst after justice.

But you may answer or think, 'Is the liking for outside ornaments, — for pictures, or statues, or furniture, or architecture, a moral quality?' Yes, most surely, if a rightly set liking. Taste for any pictures or statues is not a moral quality, but taste for good ones is. Only here again we have to define the word 'good.' I don't mean by 'good,' clever — or learned — or difficult in the doing. Take a picture by Teniers, of sots quarrelling over their dice; it is an entirely clever picture; so clever that nothing in its kind has ever been done equal to it; but it is also an entirely base and evil picture. It is an expression of delight in the prolonged contemplation of a vile thing, and delight in that is an 'unmannered,' or 'immoral' quality. It is 'bad taste' in the profoundest sense — it is the taste of the devils. On the other hand, a picture of Titian's, or a Greek statue, or a Greek coin, or a Turner landscape, expresses delight in the perpetual contemplation of a good and perfect thing. That is an entirely moral quality — it is the taste of the angels. And all delight in fine art, and all love of it, resolve themselves into simple love of that which deserves love. That deserving is the quality which we call 'loveliness' — (we ought to have an opposite word, hateliness, to be said of the things which deserve to be hated); and it is not an indifferent nor optional thing whether we love this or that; but it is just the vital function of all our being. What we like determines what we are, and is the sign of what we are; and to teach taste is inevitably to form character.

As I was thinking over this, in walking up Fleet Street the other day, my eye caught the title of a book standing open in a bookseller's window. It was — On the necessity of the diffusion of taste among all classes. 'Ah,' I thought to myself, 'my classifying friend, when you have diffused your taste, where will your classes be? The man who likes what you like, belongs to the same class with you, I think. Inevitably so. You may put him to other work if you choose; but, by the condition you have brought him into, he will dislike the work as much as you would yourself. You get hold of a scavenger or a costermonger, who enjoyed the Newgate Calendar for literature, and "Pop goes the Weasel" for music. You think you can make him like Dante and Beethoven? I wish you joy of your lessons; but if you do, you have made a gentleman of him: — he won't like to go back to his costermongering. '

And so completely and unexceptionally is this so, that, if I had time to-night, I could show you that a nation cannot be affected by any vice, or weakness, without expressing it, legibly, and for ever, either in bad art, or by want of art; and that there is no national virtue, small or great, which is not manifestly expressed in all the art which circumstances enable the people possessing that virtue to produce. Take, for instance, your great English virtue of enduring and patient courage. You have at present in England only one art of any consequence — that is, iron-working. You know thoroughly well how to cast and hammer iron. Now, do you think, in those masses of lava which you build volcanic cones to melt, and which you forge at the mouths of the Infernos you have created; do you think, on those iron plates, your courage and endurance are not written for ever, — not merely with an iron pen, but on iron parchment? And take also your great English vice — European vice — vice of all the world — vice of all other worlds that roll or shine in heaven, bearing with them yet the atmosphere of hell — the vice of jealousy, which brings competition into your commerce, treachery into your councils, and dishonour into your wars — that vice which has rendered for you, and for your next neighbouring nation, the daily occupations of existence no longer possible, but with the mail upon your breasts and the sword loose in its sheath; so that at last, you have realized for all the multitudes of the two great peoples who lead the so-called civilization of the earth, — you have realized for them all, I say, in person and in policy, what was once true only of the rough Border riders of your Cheviot hills —

'They carved at the meal

With gloves of steel,

And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd;' —

do you think that this national shame and dastardliness of heart are not written as legibly on every rivet of your iron armour as the strength of the right hands that forged it?

Friends, I know not whether this thing be the more ludicrous or the more melancholy. It is quite unspeakably both. Suppose, instead of being now sent for by you, I had been sent for by some private gentleman, living in a suburban house, with his garden separated only by a fruit wall from his next door neighbour's; and he had called me to consult with him on the furnishing of his drawing-room. I begin looking about me, and find the walls rather bare; I think such and such a paper might be desirable — perhaps a little fresco here and there on the ceiling — a damask curtain or so at the windows. 'Ah,' says my employer, 'damask curtains, indeed! That's all very fine, but you know I can't afford that kind of thing just now!' 'Yet the world credits you with a splendid income!' 'Ah, yes,' says my friend, 'but do you know, at present I am obliged to spend it nearly all in steel-traps?' 'Steel-traps! for whom?' 'Why, for that fellow on the other side the wall, you know: we're very good friends, capital friends; but we are obliged to keep our traps set on both sides of the wall; we could not possibly keep on friendly terms without them, and our spring guns. The worst of it is, we are both dever fellows enough; and there's never a day passes that we don't find out a new trap, or a new gunbarrel, or something; we spend about fifteen millions a year each in our traps, take it altogether; and I don't see how we're to do with less.' A highly comic state of life for two private gentlemen! but for two nations, it seems to me, not wholly comic. Bedlam would be comic, perhaps, if there were only one madman in it; and your Christmas pantomime is comic, when there is only one clown in it; but when the whole world turns clown, and paints itself red with its own heart's blood instead of vermilion, it is something else than comic, I think.

Mind, I know a great deal of this is play, and willingly allow for that. You don't know what to do with yourselves for a sensation: fox-hunting and cricketing will not carry you through the whole of this unendurably long mortal life: you liked pop-guns when you were schoolboys, and rifles and Armstrongs are only the same things better made: but then the worst of it is, that what was play to you when boys, was not play to the sparrows; and what is play to you now, is not play to the small birds of State neither; and for the black eagles, you are somewhat shy of taking shots at them, if I mistake not.

I must get back to the matter in hand, however. Believe me, without farther instance, I could show you, in all time, that every nation's vice, or virtue, was written in its art: the soldiership of early Greece; the sensuality of late Italy; the visionary religion of Tuscany; the splendid human energy of Venice. I have no time to do this to-night (I have done it elsewhere before now); but I proceed to apply the principle to ourselves in a more searching manner.

I notice that among all the new buildings which cover your once wild hills, churches and schools are mixed in due, that is to say, in large proportion, with your mills and mansions; and I notice also that the churches and schools are almost always Gothic, and the mansions and mills are never Gothic. May I ask the meaning of this? for, remember, it is peculiarly a modem phenomenon. When Gothic was invented, houses were Gothic as well as churches; and when the Italian style superseded the Gothic, churches were Italian as well as houses. If there is a Gothic spire to the cathedral of Antwerp, there is a Gothic belfry to the Hôtel de Ville at Brussels; if Inigo Jones builds an Italian Whitehall, Sir Christopher Wren builds an Italian St Paul's. But now you live under one school of architecture, and worship under another. What do you mean by doing this? Am I to understand that you are thinking of changing your architecture back to Gothic; and that you treat your churches experimentally, because it does not matter what mistakes you make in a church? Or am I to understand that you consider Gothic a pre-eminently sacred and beautiful mode of building, which you think, like the fine frankincense, should be mixed for the tabernacle only, and reserved for your religious services? For if this be the feeling, though it may seem at first as if it were graceful and reverent, at the root of the matter, it signifies neither more nor less than that you have separated your religion from your life.

For consider what a wide significance this fact has; and remember that it is not you only, but all the people of England, who are behaving thus, just now.

You have all got into the habit of calling the church 'the house of God.' I have seen, over the doors of many churches, the legend actually carved, 'This is the house of God and this is the gate of heaven.' Now, note where that legend comes from, and of what place it was first spoken. A boy leaves his father's house to go on a long journey on foot, to visit his uncle: he has to cross a wild hill-desert; just as if one of your own boys had to cross the wolds to visit an uncle at Carlisle. The second or third day your boy finds himself somewhere between Hawes and Brough, in the midst of the moors, at sunset. It is stony ground, and boggy; he cannot go one foot farther that night. Down he lies, to sleep, on Wharnside, where best he may, gathering a few of the stones together to put under his head; — so wild the place is, he cannot get anything but stones. And there, lying under the broad night, he has a dream; and he sees a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reaches to heaven, and the angels of God are seen ascending and descending upon it. And when he wakes out of his sleep, he says, 'How dreadful is this place; surely this is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.' This Place, observe; not this church; not this city; not this stone, even, which he puts up for a memorial — the piece of flint on which his head was lain. But this place; this windy slope of Wharnside; this moorland hollow, torrent-bitten, snow blighted! this any place where God lets down the ladder. And how are you to know where that will be? or how are you to determine where it may be, but by being ready for it always? Do you know where the lightning is to fall next? You do know that, partly; you can guide the lightning; but you cannot guide the going forth of the Spirit, which is as that lightning when it shines from the east to the west.

But the perpetual and insolent warping of that strong verse to serve a merely ecclesiastical purpose, is only one of the thousand instances in which we sink back into gross Judaism. We call our churches 'temples.' Now, you know perfectly well they are not temples. They have never had, never can have, anything whatever to do with temples. They are 'synagogues' — 'gathering places' -where you gather yourselves together as an assembly; and by not calling them so, you again miss the force of another mighty text — 'Thou, when thou prayest, shalt not be as the hypocrites are; for they love to pray standing in the churches' [we should translate it], 'that they may be seen of men. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father,' — which is, not in chancel nor in aisle, but 'in secret.'

Now, you feel, as I say this to you — I know you feel — as if I were trying to take away the honour of your churches. Not so; I am trying to prove to you the honour of your houses and your hills; not that the Church is not sacred — but that the whole Earth is. I would have you feel what careless, what constant, what infectious sin there is in all modes of thought, whereby, in calling your churches only 'holy,' you call your hearths and homes 'profane'; and have separated yourselves from the heathen by casting all your household gods to the ground, instead of recognizing, in the places of their many and feeble Lares, the presence of your One and Mighty Lord and Lat.

'But what has all this to do with our Exchange?' you ask me, impatiently. My dear friends, it has just everything to do with it; on these inner and great questions depend all the outer and little ones; and if you have asked me down here to speak to you, because you had before been interested in anything I have written, you must know that all I have yet said about architecture was to show this. The book I called The Seven Lamps was to show that certain right states of temper and moral feeling were the magic powers by which all good architecture, without exception, had been produced. The Stones of Venice had, from beginning to end, no other aim than to show that the Gothic architecture of Venice had arisen out of, and indicated in all its features, a state of pure national faith, and of domestic virtue; and that its Renaissance architecture had arisen out of, and in all its features indicated, a state of concealed national infidelity, and of domestic corruption. And now, you ask me what style is best to build in, and how can I answer, knowing the meaning of the two styles, but by another question — do you mean to build as Christians or as infidels? And still more — do you mean to build as honest Christians or as honest Infidels? as thoroughly and confessedly either one or the other? You don't like to be asked such rude questions. I cannot help it; they are of much more importance than this Exchange business; and if they can be at once answered, the Exchange business settles itself in a moment. But before I press them farther, I must ask leave to explain one point clearly.

In all my past work, my endeavour has been to show that good architecture is essentially religious — the production of a faithful and virtuous, not of an infidel and corrupted people. But in the course of doing this, I have had also to show that good architecture is not ecclesiastical. People are so apt to look upon religion as the business of the clergy, not their own, that the moment they hear of anything depending on 'religion,' they think it must also have depended on the priesthood; and I have had to take what place was to be occupied between these two errors, and fight both, often with seeming contradiction. Good architecture is the work of good and believing men; therefore, you say, at least some people 'say, 'Good architecture must essentially have been the work of the clergy, not of the laity.' No — a thousand times no; good architecture has always been the work of the commonalty, not of the clergy. 'What,' you say, 'those glorious cathedrals — the pride of Europe — did their builders not form Gothic architecture?' No; they corrupted Gothic architecture. Gothic was formed in the baron's castle, and the burgher's street. It was formed by the thoughts, and hands, and powers of labouring citizens and warrior kings. By the monk it was used as an instrument for the aid of his superstition: when that superstition became a beautiful madness, and the best hearts of Europe vainly dreamed and pined in the cloister, and vainly raged and perished in the crusade, — through that fury of perverted faith and wasted war, the Gothic rose also to its loveliest, most fantastic, and, finally, most foolish dreams; and in those dreams was lost.

I hope, now, that there is no risk of your misunderstanding me when I come to the gist of what I want to say to-night; — when I repeat, that every great national architecture has been the result and exponent of a great national religion. You can't have bits of it here, bits there — you must have it everywhere or nowhere. It is not the monopoly of a clerical company — it is not the exponent of a theological dogma- it is not the hieroglyphic writing of an initiated priesthood; it is the manly language of a people inspired by resolute and common purpose, and rendering resolute and common fidelity to the legible laws of an undoubted God.

Now there have as yet been three distinct schools of European architecture. I say, European, because Asiatic and African architectures belong so entirely to other races and climates, that there is no question of them here; only, in passing, I will simply assure you that whatever is good or great in Egypt, and Syria, and India, is just good or great for the same reasons as the buildings on our side of the Bosphorus. We Europeans, then, have had three great religions: the Greek, which was the worship of the God of Wisdom and Power; the Mediæval, which was the worship of the God of Judgment and Consolation; the Renaissance, which was the worship of the God of Pride and Beauty: these three we have had — they are past, — and now, at last, we English have got a fourth religion, and a God of our own, about which I want to ask you. But I must explain these three old ones first.

I repeat, first, the Greeks essentially worshipped the God of Wisdom; so that whatever contended against their religion, — to the Jews a stumbling-block, — was, to the Greeks — Foolishness.

The first Greek idea of deity was that expressed in the word, of which we keep the remnant in our words 'Di-umal' and 'Di-vine' — the god of Day, Jupiter the revealer. Athena is his daughter, but especially daughter of the Intellect, springing armed from the head. We are only with the help of recent investigation beginning to penetrate the depth of meaning couched under the Athenaic symbols: but I may note rapidly, that her ægis, the mantle with the serpent fringes, in which she often, in the best statues, is represented as folding up her left hand, for better guard; and the Gorgon, on her shield, are both representative mainly of the chilling horror and sadness (turning men to stone, as it were,) of the outmost and superficial spheres of knowledge — that knowledge which separates, in bitterness, hardness, and sorrow, the heart of the full-grown man from the heart of the child. For out of imperfect knowledge spring terror, dissension, danger, and disdain; but from perfect knowledge, given by the full-revealed Athena, strength and peace, in sign of which she is crowned with the olive spray, and bears the resistless spear.

This, then, was the Greek conception of purest Deity; and every habit of life, and every form of his art developed themselves from the seeking this bright, serene, resistless wisdom; and setting himself, as a man, to do things evermore rightly and strongly; I not with any ardent affection or ultimate hope; but with a resolute and continent energy of will, as knowing that for failure there was no consolation, and for sin there was no remission. And the Greek architecture rose unerring, bright, dearly defined, and self-contained.

Next followed in Europe the great Christian faith, which was essentially the religion of Comfort. Its great doctrine is the remission of sins; for which cause, it happens, too often, in certain phases of Christianity, that sin and sickness themselves are partly glorified, as if, the more you had to be healed of, the more divine was the healing. The practical result of this doctrine, in art, is a continual contemplation of sin and disease, and of imaginary states of purification from them; thus we have an architecture conceived in a mingled sentiment of melancholy and aspiration, partly severe, partly luxuriant, which will bend itself to every one of our needs, and every one of our fancies, and be strong or weak with us, as we are strong or weak ourselves. It is, of all architecture, the basest, when base people build it — of all, the noblest, when built by the noble.

And now note that both these religions — Greek and Mediæval — perished by falsehood in their own main purpose. The Greek religion of Wisdom perished in a false philosophy — 'Oppositions of science, falsely so called.'[1] The Mediæval religion of Consolation perished in false comfort; in remission of sins given lyingly. It was the selling of absolution that ended the Mediæval faith; and I can tell you more, it is the selling of absolution which, to the end of time, will mark false Christianity. Pure Christianity gives her remission of sins only by ending them; but false Christianity gets her remission of sins by compounding for them. And there are many ways of compounding for them. We English have beautiful little quiet ways of buying absolution, whether in low Church or high, far more cunning than any of Tetzel's trading.

Then, thirdly, there followed the religion of Pleasure, in which all Europe gave itself to luxury, ending in death. First, bals masqués in every saloon, and then guillotines in every square. And all these three worships issue in vast temple building. Your Greek worshipped Wisdom, and built you the Parthenon — the Virgin's temple. The Mediæval worshipped Consolation, and built you Virgin temples also — but to our Lady of Salvation. Then the Revivalist worshipped beauty, of a sort, and built you Versailles and the Vatican. Now, lastly, will you tell me what we worship, and what we build?

You know we are speaking always of the real, active, continual, national worship; that by which men act, while they live; not that which they talk of, when they die. Now, we have, indeed, a nominal religion, to which we pay tithes of property and sevenths of time; but we have also a practical and earnest religion, to which we devote nine-tenths of our property, and six-sevenths of our time. And we dispute a great deal about the nominal religion: but we are all unanimous about this practical one; of which I think you will admit that the ruling goddess may be best generally described as the 'God dess of Getting-on,' or 'Britannia of the Market.' The Athenians had an 'Athena Agoraia,' or Athena of the Market; but she was a subordinate type of their goddess, while our Britannia Agoraia is the principal type of ours. And all your great architectural works are, of course, built to her. It is long since you built a great cathedral; and how you would laugh at me if I proposed building a cathedral on the top of one of these hills of yours, to make it an Acropolis! But your railroad mounds, vaster than the walls of Babylon; your railroad stations, vaster than the temple of Ephesus, and innumerable; your chimneys, how much more mighty and costly than cathedral spires! your harbour-piers; your warehouses; your exchanges! — all these are built to your great God dess of 'Getting-on'; and she has formed, and will continue to form, your architecture, as long as you worship her; and it is quite vain to ask me to tell you how to build to her; you know far better than I.

There might, indeed, on some theories, be a conceivably good architecture for Exchanges — that is to say, if there were any heroism in the fact or deed of exchange, which might be typically carved on the outside of your building. For, you know, all beautiful architecture must be adorned with sculpture or painting; and for sculpture or painting, you must have a subject. And hitherto it has been a received opinion among the nations of the world that the only right subjects for either, were heroisms of some sort. Even on his pots and his flagons, the Greek put a Hercules slaying lions, or an Apollo slaying serpents, or Bacchus slaying melancholy giants, and earthborn despondencies. On his temples, the Greek put contests of great warriors in founding states, or of gods with evil spirits. On his houses and temples alike, the Christian put carvings of angels conquering devils; or of hero-martyrs exchanging this world for another: subject inappropriate, I think, to our direction of exchange here. And the Master of Christians not only left His followers without any orders as to the sculpture of affairs of exchange on the outside of buildings, but gave some strong evidence of His dislike of affairs of exchange within them. And yet there might surely be a heroism in such affairs; and all commerce become a kind of selling of doves, not impious. The wonder has always been great to me, that heroism has never been supposed to be in anywise consistent with the practice of supplying people with food, or dothes, but rather with that of quartering one's self upon them for food, and stripping them of their clothes. Spoiling of armour is an heroic deed in all ages; but the selling of clothes, old, or new, has never taken any colour of magnanimity. Yet one does not see why feeding the hungry and clothing the naked should ever become base businesses, even when engaged in on a large scale. If one could contrive to attach the notion of conquest to them anyhow! so that, supposing there were anywhere an obstinate race, who refused to be comforted, one might take some pride in giving them compulsory comfort![2] and, as it were, 'occupying a country' with one's gifts, instead of one's armies? If one could only consider it as much a victory to get a barren field sown, as to get an eared field stripped; and contend who should build villages, instead of who should 'carry' them! Are not all forms of heroism conceivable in doing these serviceable deeds? You doubt who is strongest? It might be ascertained by push of spade, as well as push of sword. Who is wisest? There are witty things to be thought of in planning other business than campaigns. Who is bravest? There are always the elements to fight with, stronger than men; and nearly as merciless.

The only absolutely and unapproachably heroic element in the soldier's work seems to be — that he is paid little for it — and regularly: while you traffickers, and exchangers, and others occupied in presumably benevolent business, like to be paid much for it — and by chance. I never can make out how it is that a knight-errant does not expect to be paid for his trouble, but a pedlar — errant always does; — that people are willing to take hard knocks for nothing, but never to sell ribands cheap; that they are ready to go on fervent crusades, to recover the tomb of a buried God, but never on any travels to fulfil the orders of a living one; — that they will go anywhere barefoot to preach their faith, but must be well bribed to practise it, and are perfectly ready to give the Gospel grafts, but never the loaves and fishes.[3]

If you chose to take the matter up on any such soldierly principle; to do your commerce, and your feeding of nations, for fixed salaries; and to be as particular about giving people the best food, and the best doth, as soldiers are about giving them the best gunpowder, I could carve something for you on your exchange worth looking at. But I can only at present suggest decorating its frieze with pendant purses; and making its pillars broad at the base, for the sticking of bills. And in the innermost chambers of it there might be a statue of Britannia of the Market, who may have, perhaps advisably, a partridge for her crest, typical at once of her courage in fighting for noble ideas, and of her interest in game; and round its neck, the inscription in golden letters, 'Perdix fovit quæ non peperit.'[4] Then, for her spear, she might have a weaver's beam; and on her shield, instead of St George's Cross, the Milanese boar, semi-fleeced, with the town of Gennesaret proper, in the field; and the legend, 'In the best market,'[5] and her corslet, of leather, folded over her heart in the shape of a purse, with thirty slits in it, for a piece of money to go in at, on each day of the month. And I doubt not but that people would come to see your exchange, and its goddess, with applause.

Nevertheless, I want to point out to you certain strange characters in this goddess of yours. She differs from the great Greek and Medieval deities essentially in two things — first, as to the continuance of her presumed power; secondly, as to the extent of it.

1st, as to the Continuance.

The Greek Goddess of Wisdom gave continual increase of wisdom, as the Christian Spirit of Comfort (or Comforter) continual increase of comfort. There was no question, with these, of any limit or cessation of function. But with your Agora Goddess, that is just the most important question. Getting on — but where to? Gathering together — but how much? Do you mean to gather always — never to spend? If so, I wish you joy of your goddess, for I am just as well off as you, without the trouble of worshipping her at all. But if you do not spend, somebody else will — somebody else must. And it is because of this (among many other such errors) that I have fearlessly dedared your so-called science of Political Economy to be no science; because, namely, it has omitted the study of exactly the most important branch of the business — the study of spending. For spend you must, and as much as you make, ultimately. You gather corn: — will you bury England under a heap of grain; or will you, when you have gathered, finally eat? You gather gold: — will you make your house-roofs of it, or pave your streets with it? That is still one way of spending it. But if you keep it, that you may get more, I'll give you more; I'll give you all the gold you want — all you can imagine — if you can tell me what you'll do with it. You shall have thousands of gold pieces; — thousands of thousands — millions — mountains, of gold: where will you keep them? Will you put an Olympus of silver upon a golden Pelion — make Ossa like a wart? Do you think the rain and dew would then come down to you, in the streams from such mountains, more blessedly than they will down the mountains which God has made for you, of moss and whinstone? But it is not gold that you want to gather! What is it? greenbacks? No; not those neither. What is it then — is it ciphers after a capital I? Cannot you practise writing ciphers, and write as many as you want! Write ciphers for an hour every morning, in a big book, and say every evening, I am worth all those noughts more than I was yesterday. Won't that do? Well, what in the name of Plutus is it you want? Not gold, not greenbacks, not ciphers after a capital I? You will have to answer, after all, 'No; we want, somehow or other, money's worth.' Well, what is that? Let your Goddess of Getting-on discover it, and let her learn to stay therein.

II. But there is yet another question to be asked respecting this Goddess of Getting-on. The first was of the continuance of her power; the second is of its extent.

Pallas and the Madonna were supposed to be all the world's Pallas, and all the world's Madonna. They could teach all men, and they could comfort all men. But, look strictly into the nature of the power of your Goddess of Getting-on; and you will find she is the Goddess — not of everybody's getting on — but only of somebody's getting on. This is a vital, or rather deathful, distinction. Examine it in your own ideal of the state of national life which this Goddess is to evoke and maintain. I asked you what it was, when I was last here; — you have never told me. Now, shall I try to tell you?

Your ideal of human life then is, I think, that it should be passed in a pleasant undulating world, with iron and coal everywhere underneath it. On each pleasant bank of this world is to be a beautiful mansion, with two wings; and stables, and coach-houses; a moderately-sized park; a large garden and hot-houses; and pleasant carriage drives through the shrubberies. In this mansion are to live the favoured votaries of the Goddess; the English gentleman, with his gracious wife, and his beautiful family; he always able to have the boudoir and the jewels for the wife, and the beautiful ball dresses for the daughters, and hunters for the sons, and a shooting in the Highlands for himself. At the bottom of the bank, is to be the mill; not less than a quarter of a mile long, with one steam engine at each end, and two in the middle, and a chimney three hundred feet high. In this mill are to be in constant employment from eight hundred to a thousand workers, who never drink, never strike, always go to church on Sunday, and always express themselves in respectful language.

Is not that, broadly, and in the main features, the kind of thing you propose to yourselves? It is very pretty indeed, seen from above; not at all so pretty, seen from below. For, observe, while to one family this deity is indeed the Goddess of Getting-on, to a thousand families she is the Goddess of not Getting-on. 'Nay,' you say, 'they have all their chance.' Yes, so has every one in a lottery, but there must always be the same number of blanks. 'Ah! but in a lottery it is not skill and intelligence which take the lead, but blind chance.' What then! do you think the old practice, that 'they should take who have the power, and they should keep who can, ' is less iniquitous, when the power has become power of brains instead of fist? and that, though we may not take advantage of a child's or a woman's weakness, we may of a man's foolishness? 'Nay, but finally, work must be done, and some one must be at the top, someone at the bottom.' Granted, my friends. Work must always be, and captains of work must always be; and if you in the least remember the tone of any of my writings, you must know that they are thought unfit for this age, because they are always insisting on need of government, and speaking with scorn of liberty. But I beg you to observe that there is a wide difference between being captains or governors of work, and taking the profits of it. It does not follow, because you are general of an army, that you are to take all the treasure, or land, it wins; (if it fight for treasure or land;) neither, because you are king of a nation, that you are to consume all the profits of the nation's work. Real kings, on the contrary, are known invariably by their doing quite the reverse of this, — by their taking the least possible quantity of the nation's work for themselves. There is no test of real kinghood so infallible as that. Does the crowned creature live simply, bravely, unostentatiously? probably he is a King. Does he cover his body with jewels, and his table with delicates? in all probability he is not a King. It is possible he may be, as Solomon was; but that is when the nation shares his splendour with him. Solomon made gold, not only to be in his own palace as stones, but to be in Jerusalem as stones. But, even so, for the most part, these splendid kinghoods expire in ruin, and only the true kinghoods live, which are of royal labourers governing loyal labourers; who, both leading rough lives, establish the true dynasties. Condusively you will find that because you are king of a nation, it does not follow that you are to gather for yourself all the wealth of that nation; neither, because you are king of a small part of the nation, and lord over the means of its maintenance — over field, or mill, or mine, — are you to take all the produce of that piece of the foundation of national existence for yourself.

You will tell me I need not preach against these things, for I cannot mend them. No, good friends, I cannot; but you can, and you will; or something else can and will. Even good things have no abiding power — and shall these evil things persist in victorious evil? All history shows, on the contrary, that to be the exact thing they never can do. Change must come; but it is ours to determine whether change of growth, or change of death. Shall the Parthenon be in ruins on its rock, and Bolton priory in its meadow, but these mills of yours be the consummation of the buildings of the earth, and their wheels be as the wheels of eternity? Think you that 'men may come, and men may go, ' but — mills — go on forever? Not so; out of these, better or worse shall come; and it is for you to choose which.

I know that none of this wrong is done with deliberate purpose. I know, on the contrary, that you wish your workmen well; that you do much for them, and that you desire to do more for them, if you saw your way to such benevolence safely. I know that even all this wrong and misery are brought about by a warped sense of duty, each of you striving to do his best; but, unhappily, not knowing for whom this best should be done. And all our hearts have been betrayed by the plausible impiety of the modem economist, telling us that, 'To do the best for ourselves, is finally to do the best for others. ' Friends, our great Master said not so; and most absolutely we shall find this world is not made so. Indeed, to do the best for others, is finally to do the best for ourselves; but it will not do to have our eyes fixed on that issue. The Pagans had got beyond that. Hear what a Pagan says of this matter; hear what were, perhaps, the last written words of Plato, — if not the last actually written (for this we cannot know), yet assuredly in fact and power his parting words — in which, endeavouring to give full crowning and harmonious close to all his thoughts, and to speak the sum of them by the imagined sentence of the Great Spirit, his strength and his heart fail him, and the words cease, broken off for ever.

They are at the dose of the dialogue called Critias, in which he describes, partly from real tradition, partly in ideal dream, the early state of Athens; and the genesis, and order, and religion, of the fabled isle of Atlantis; in which genesis he conceives the same first perfection and final degeneracy of man, which in our own Scriptural tradition is expressed by saying that the Sons of God inter-married with the daughters of men, for he supposes the earliest race to have been indeed the children of God; and to have corrupted themselves, until 'their spot was not the spot of his children.' And this, he says, was the end; that indeed 'through many generations, so long as the God's nature in them yet was full, they were sub missive to the sacred laws, and carried themselves lovingly to all that had kindred with them in divineness; for their uttermost spirit was faithful and true, and in every wise great; so that, in all meekness of wisdom, they dealt with each other, and took all the chances of life; and despising all things except virtue, they cared little what happened day by day, and bore lightly the burden of gold and of possessions; for they saw that, if only their common love and virtue increased, all these things would be increased together with them; but to set their esteem and ardent pursuit upon material possession would be to lose that first, and their virtue and affection together with it. And by such reasoning, and what of the divine nature remained in them, they gained all this greatness of which we have already told; but when the God's part of them faded and became extinct, being mixed again and again, and effaced by the prevalent mortality; and the human nature at last exceeded, they then became unable to endure the courses of fortune; and fell into shapelessness of life, and baseness in the sight of him who could see, having lost everything that was fairest of their honour; while to the blind hearts which could not discern the true life, tending to happiness, it seemed that they were then chiefly noble and happy, being filled with all iniquity of inordinate possession and power. Whereupon, the God of Gods, whose Kinghood is in laws, beholding a once just nation thus cast into misery, and desiring to lay such punishment upon them as might make them repent into restraining, gathered together all the gods into his dwelling place, which from heaven's centre overlooks whatever has part in creation; and having assembled them, he said' —

The rest is silence. Last words of the chief wisdom of the heathen, spoken of this idol of riches; this idol of yours; this golden image, high by measureless cubits, set up where your green fields of England are furnace-burnt into the likeness of the plain of Dura: this idol, forbidden to us, first of all idols, by our own Master and faith; forbidden to us also by every human lip that has ever, in any age or people, been accounted of as able to speak according to the purposes of God. Continue to make that forbidden deity your principal one, and soon no more art, no more science, no more pleasure will be possible. Catastrophe will come; or, worse than catastrophe, slow mouldering and withering into Hades. But if you can fix some conception of a true human state of life to be striven for — life, good for all men, as for your selves; if you can determine some honest and simple order of existence; following those trodden ways of wisdom, which are pleasantness, and seeking her quiet and withdrawn paths, which are peace;[6] — then, and so sanctifying wealth into 'commonwealth,' all your art, your literature, your daily labours, your domestic affection, and citizen's duty, will join and increase into one magnificent harmony. You will know then how to build, well enough; you will build with stone well, but with flesh better; temples not made with hands, but riveted of hearts; and that kind of marble, crimson-veined, is indeed eternal.

Notes

1. It is an error to suppose that the Greek worship, or seeking, was chiefly of Beauty. It was essentially of rightness and strength, founded on Forethought: the principal character of Greek art is not beauty, but design: and the Dorian Apollo-worship and Athenian Virgin-worship are both expressions of adoration of divine wisdom and purity. Next to these great deities, rank, in power over the national mind, Dionysus and Ceres, the givers of human strength and life; then, for heroic examples, Hercules. There is no Venus-worship among the Greeks in the great times: and the Muses are essentially teachers of Truth, and of its harmonies.

2. Quite serious, all this, though it reads like jest. [1873.]

3. Please think over this paragraph, too briefly and antithetically put, but one of those which I am happiest in having written. [1873.]

4. Jerem. xvii. II, (best in Septuagint and Vulgate). 'As the partridge, fostering what she brought not forth, so he that getteth riches, not by right, shall leave them in the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a fool. '

5. Meaning, fully, 'We have brought our pigs to it.' [1873.]

6. I imagine the Hebrew chant merely intends passionate repetition, and not a distinction of this somewhat fanciful kind; yet we may profitably make it in reading the English.

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

伦敦夜行记

（英汉双语）

[英]查尔斯·狄更斯　著

牛云平　丁振琴　译

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（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3349-0

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观念

——《伟大的思想》代序

梁文道

每隔一段时间，媒体就喜欢评选一次“影响世界的X个人”或者“改变历史的X项发明”。然而，在我看来，几乎所有人类史上最重大的变革，首先都是一种观念的变革。

我们今天之所以会关注气候的暖化与生物多样性的保存，是因为我们看待地球的方式变了，我们比以前更加意识到人在自然中的位置，也更加了解自然其实是一个动态的系统。放弃了人类可以主宰地球的世界观，这就意味着我们接受了一个观念的变化。同样地，我们不再相信男人一出生就该主宰女人，甚至也不再认为男女之别是不可动摇的本质区分；这也是观念的变化。如果说环保运动和女权运动有任何影响的话，那些影响一定就是从大脑开始的。也不要只看好事，20世纪最惨绝人寰的浩劫最初也只不过是一些小小的观念，危险的观念。比如说一位德国人，他相信人类的进化必以“次等种族”的灭绝为代价……

这套丛书不叫“伟大的巨著”，是因为它们体积都不大，而且还有不少是抽取自某些名著的章节。可它们却全是伟大的观念，例如达尔文论天择，潘恩论常识，它们共同构成了人类的观念地图。从头看它们一遍，就是检视文明所走过的道路，从深处理解我们今天变成这个样子的原因。

也许你会发现其中有些陌生的名字，或者看起来没有那么“伟大”的篇章（譬如普鲁斯特追忆他的阅读时光），但你千万不要小看它们。因为真正重要、真正能够产生启蒙效果的观念往往具有跨界移动的能力，它会跨越时空，离开它原属的领域，在另一个世界产生意外的效果。就像马可·波罗在监狱里述说的异国图景，当时有谁料得到那些荒诞的故事会诱发出哥伦布的旅程呢？我也无法猜测，这套小书的读者里头会不会有下一个哥伦布，他将带着令人惊奇的观念航向自己的大海。

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin’s Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

目 录

观念

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读

伦敦夜行记

迷失金融城

查塔姆造船厂

沃平救济院

东方的小星

业余警察在巡逻

赛马彩票店

死亡交易

Night Walks

Gone Astray

Chatham Dockyard

Wapping Workhouse

A Small Star in the East

On an Amateur Beat

Betting-Shops

Trading in Death

返回总目录

译者导读

查尔斯·狄更斯（Charles Dickens，1812-1870）是英国最伟大的小说家之一，享誉世界的代表作有《匹克威克外传》（1836-1837）、《雾都孤儿》（1837-1839）、《尼古拉斯·尼克贝》（1838-1839）、《圣诞颂歌》（1843）、《董贝父子》（1848）、《大卫·科波菲尔》（1849-1850）、《艰难时世》（1854）、《小杜丽》（1857）、《双城记》（1859）、《远大前程》（1860-1861）等。其文风幽默浑厚、雅俗共赏，因而蜚声天下，迄今不衰。

狄更斯生于朴茨茅斯市郊区，父亲是当地海军工厂附属海军会计处的一名职员。他童年时家境小康、生活幸福。但因父母持家无方，狄更斯12岁时被迫辍学、到漆鞋厂作童工。这段经历，加上因父亲两度负债入狱、举家随之搬到狱中生活的经历，成为他终生不释的创痛。他作品中的孤弃儿主角、怨忿自怜之情、童话式情节、小人物的悲惨生活等莫不与此有关。然而，狄更斯天生颖悟、酷爱读书、勤奋过人，成就了以后的事业。1829年起，他进入报业，开始了高产、高质的写作生涯。事业的成功为他带来了丰厚的收入，1842年起，他携全家多次周游欧美，积累了大量创作素材。至1870年去世，他著有约16部重要长篇小说、4部短篇故事集，以及近10部剧本、诗歌、纪实作品。

1850年至1870年，狄更斯先后编辑出版了周刊《家常话》和《一年四季》。《家常话》以普通大众，特别是正在崛起的中产阶级为主要读者群，发表重大社会价值类、重要信息类和娱乐类三大类文章，致力于揭露政府的腐败和渎职、力倡推进医疗卫生事业、呼吁创建面向全民的全国性公共教育体系。这些文章纪实性强、通俗易读，深受社会关注、影响强大。《一年四季》以刊登小说类作品为主，但继续了《家常话》的许多主题。从1860年至1869年，他在《一年四季》上陆续发表了题为《非商务旅客》的系列笔记体和回忆体小说。

本书8篇短文均出自《家常话》和《非商务旅客》。这些短文或浓墨重彩、或轻描淡写地展现了19世纪中期英国社会的斑驳万象：夜幕下伦敦城中的罪恶与堕落、充满冒险的发财梦、浮躁的下层民众、庞大的海军工业、贫困的伦敦东区、恶劣的工作与生活条件、诈伪的彩票店、狂热的彩民、铺张的葬仪……不一而足。

翻译是一种跨越时空的旅行和洞隐烛微的观察。在狄更斯那随意而锐利的笔锋引领下，这一观察再次揭示：第一，在对华发动鸦片战争前夕，英国内政并非蒸蒸日上，而是同样的矛盾重重、危机潜伏；第二，该时期的英国国力正在上升，但比起前工业化时期，其国民的综合素质并无明显的飞跃；第三，在个体的生存现实面前，自由、平等、博爱等宏大口号不过是蚊蝇的回声；第四，历史不会重复，但故事始终在发生。

伦敦夜行记

数年前，我因心事烦扰，曾短暂失眠。连续几晚，我都整夜在街上巡游。倘若我只是虚弱地躺在床上尝试各种入睡方法，也许得很长时间才能克服病症。所幸我用了一种积极疗法，很快就战胜了失眠症：刚躺下就起床、出门，日出时再筋疲力尽地回家来。

那几晚，我从做业余流浪汉的亲身经历中颇长了些见识。为了挨过长夜，我到处游荡，因而懂得了那些有着同样遭历的夜巡人，他们一年到头夜夜都这般度过。

时值三月，天气潮湿、阴冷。太阳到五点半才会出来，从午夜十二点半之后，夜幕就显得漫长无限。而我，就在此时投入暗夜。

在我们流浪汉心目中，大都市的躁动不宁及其入睡前的翻腾滚动乃是首批娱乐节目之一。它的表演要持续两个小时左右。待到那些营业到深夜的酒馆熄了灯，侍者将店里最后一批吵闹不休的醉汉推到了街上，我们一下就少了许多无眠的同伴。不过，此后我们会遇到一二车辆和三两行人。幸运时，还能骤然看到一名警察咔咔地疾行而来，随之就是一场打斗。但这种消遣通常都难得一见。草市街［1］是伦敦市管理最差的地方，除了草市街上、自治区［2］的肯特街周围，以及老肯特路的部分路段，别处都一派寂静，罕见激烈事件发生。可是，伦敦好像在效仿它的居民似的，在断气前总要抽搐、抖动几下。一切似乎都已安静下来，可要是有一辆出租马车嘎嘎地飞驰而过，随后肯定还会出现五六辆。流浪汉们甚至观察到，那些酩酊醉客好像也带着磁力，彼此相吸：每当我们看到一个醉汉晃晃荡荡地朝某个商店的百叶窗走去，就知道，不出五分钟，另一个醉汉必会晃晃荡荡地出现在他面前，两人不是兄弟般地搂在一起，就是仇人般地大打出手。这类普通的醉鬼通常是些胳膊纤瘦、毛发蓬乱、唇色青灰的金酒酒徒［3］。我们偶尔也会遇到另一类样貌较为体面、身着脏污丧服的醉汉。这类醉鬼十分罕见，二者的比例是五十比一。街道经历夜晚，也经历白天；有些普通人会意外得些财产，也会意外畅饮一番。

这些忽隐忽现的火花最终渐渐消退、慢慢熄灭——清醒生活的最后几粒真正的火星儿从某个很晚才收的馅饼摊或烤土豆摊飘落——伦敦市就会随之沉入梦乡。此时，流浪汉满心向往的就是有同伴存在的迹象：一个亮灯的地方、一点儿动静，以及表明还有人在活动——不，哪怕只是还醒着——的任何事物。流浪汉的眼睛在寻找窗户里的光亮。

雨声滴答，走过大街小巷的流浪汉不停地走啊走啊，眼前除了错综无限的街巷，一无所见。只是偶尔会在某个转角处看到两个警察正在交谈，或是一名警官或巡官正在关照他的部下。夜间，有些时候——但这种时候极少——流浪汉会注意到，有个人头正鬼鬼祟祟地从前面不远处的门口朝外窥视。走上前去就会发现，有个人正紧贴着门站得笔直，试图藏匿在门口的暗影当中，显然没有跟别人作伴儿的意思。流浪汉和这位先生像着了魔一般，在可怕而适时的沉默中彼此从头到脚打量一番，而后一言不发、满腹狐疑地各自走开。滴答、滴答、滴答，雨水从壁架和墙顶上滴落，从管子和喷嘴上溅落。不久，流浪汉的身影就投在了通往滑铁卢大桥［4］的石铺路面上。在流浪汉心目中，去滑铁卢大桥花半便士［5］对收费员道声“晚安”，顺便瞥一眼他身旁的炉火，这是很值得的。那旺盛的炉火、漂亮的厚大衣、上好的羊毛围脖，加上收费员本人，看上去令人备感舒适。此外，他精神饱满、头脑清醒地将一枚枚半便士铜币放到跟前的金属桌子上，发出嘎啦嘎啦的声响，就像一个公然对抗黑夜及夜幕下所有忧思的挑战者，毫不介意黎明在即，令人备感愉悦。桥上阴郁可怖，所以桥头处很需要这样鼓舞人心的事物。我巡游的那些夜晚，还没人用绳子把那个被剁成碎块的人缒下桥栏。他还活着，且那时已经极适宜地安睡着，无梦相扰，不去忧虑自己的结局。但泰晤士河显得十分骇人：两岸的建筑被蒙裹在漆黑的寿衣里；河面的反光宛似发自水底深处，恰如自杀者的幽灵正擎着它们在指示自己溺死的地点。狂野的月亮和云团躁动不宁，好像罪人在床上辗转难安。伦敦市的巨大阴影似乎沉沉地压在泰晤士河上。

大桥和两座大剧院的间距不过几百步之遥，所以过桥便是剧院。夜晚的剧院，灯火尽熄、黑暗狰狞，人面消失、虚席连片，犹如两口巨大的枯井，荒凉死寂。此时此刻，这种种物事当中，除了尤里克的骷髅［6］，恐怕没有一样能够自知自觉。某夜，教堂尖塔在三月的凄风冷雨中敲响四点时，我穿过其中一片宏旷荒漠的边界，进到了里面。我手拿一盏昏暗的提灯，沿着熟悉的路径，摸索到了舞台跟前，隔着乐池向对岸的虚空望去。此时的乐池犹如一个瘟疫猖獗期挖下的宽大墓穴，对岸则像一个辽阔而阴沉的洞穴，枝形吊灯如同其他物什一样已然僵死，在雨雾弥漫的空旷里，触目可见的只有层层的裹尸布。我的脚下便是我上次看戏所在的地方。上次在这里，我观看了那不勒斯的农民们不顾沸腾而来的火山岩浆在葡萄树间跳舞的场面。而现在，这里趴着一条粗蛇般的消防水龙。它警惕地匍匐着，一俟吐着信子的火蛇窜出就会即刻飞扑过去。一个幽灵般的守门人举着黯淡的奠烛在远处的楼座区一晃而过。我退步上了舞台，将灯举过头顶，照向卷起的幕布，只见那幕布不再是绿色，而变成了乌黑色。往上是一个黑暗的穹顶，其中模糊地现出一具船只残骸的模样，上面还带着帆篷与绳索。我想，我的感受可能恰如一个潜水者在海底的感受。

凌晨时分，大街小巷已经了无动静。我去新门监狱［7］转了转，找到了些可供沉思的素材。我摸了摸监狱那粗糙的石墙，想象了一下睡梦中的囚犯，然后隔着布满尖钉的便门望了一眼门房，看了看值班狱卒映在白墙上的火光和灯光。这个时间也很适合在那扇邪恶的欠债犯之门外面逗留。门紧紧地关着，比任何别的门关得都牢。对许多人而言，这扇门就是死亡之门［8］。在那些乡下来客冒险使用一英镑伪币的时期，多少不幸的男男女女——其中许多人都很无辜——面对着可怕的基督教圣墓堂的尖塔［9］，被绞死在刑台上，离开了这个矛盾重重的无情世界！我怀疑，如今的夜晚，那些老经理人懊悔的幽灵有没有重访英格兰银行的营业室？或曰，那营业室里是否如同老贝利街上这个衰落的刑场一样寂静？

接下来很轻易地就能走到英格兰银行，一路哀悼着美好的旧时代、叹惋着罪恶的现时代，于是我就这么做了。我还像真的流浪汉那样围着英格兰银行游荡了一圈，考虑了一下里面的财富，也考虑了一下银行外那些守着火炉打盹儿的值夜卫兵。随后，我去了比林斯格特鱼市场，希望能遇到些赶早市的人。但事实证明，我去得太早了。所以我就越过伦敦大桥，下到萨里区一侧的泰晤士河边，穿行在大酒厂的楼房间。酒厂里煞是热闹，那弥漫的烟汽、谷物的气味以及肥壮的货车马匹在食槽前吃草时发出的咯吱声，都是我绝妙的同伴。在它们中间待过之后，我感到精神抖擞、心情焕朗，于是再次上路，奔向下一个目标——老王座法庭监狱［10］，而且决定在到达监狱墙下时，想一想可怜的贺拉斯·肯齐和人患干腐病。

人患干腐病是一种怪病，病因不明。它将贺拉斯·肯齐送进了老王座法庭监狱，又从那里将他脚前头后地送了出来。肯齐正值盛年，相貌堂堂、家境富裕、性格和善，深受朋友们欢迎。他的婚姻门当户对，儿女健康漂亮。然而，他却像某些漂亮的房屋或漂亮的船只那样，患上了干腐病。人患干腐病的首要外部症状表现为下述倾向：偷偷地东游西荡、不明所以地站在街角处、有人碰上就说要四处走走、到处溜达而不是待在一处、不做具体事情而打算在明天或后天履行各种抽象的责任。如果有人发现了这些外部症状，通常都会将其与以前的某种模糊印象联系起来，认为病人只是生活得有点痛苦。观察者无暇反复琢磨这些现象，进而怀疑病人是否患上了可怕的“干腐病”。等病人的面貌变得有点邋遢、衰败，可实际又并不贫穷、肮脏、中毒或患病，他才会发觉：病人感染的是干腐病。随后，病人会在早晨散发出烈酒的气味；之后，挥霍钱财；之后，日夜都散发出烈酒的气味；之后，对一切都满不在乎；之后，四肢震颤、嗜睡多梦、困苦潦倒，最终粉身碎骨。染病者的症状与染病木材的症状一般无二。干腐病的扩散速度如同高额复利计息法，根本算不过来。一旦发现一块木板感染了该病，那么整栋房屋就要完了。这情况就发生在不幸的贺拉斯·肯齐身上，他不久前刚靠一笔捐款得以下葬。熟人们还没说完“他的家庭那么富有、生活那么舒适、前途那么光明——可是，唉，真让人担心，他竟沾染上了干腐病！”这句话呢，哎呀！他就整个地被干腐病吞没，变成了一抔坟土。

那静寂的狱墙与这个极普通的故事有着紧密的联系。在那些流浪的夜晚，离开老王座法庭监狱之后，我接着就去伯利恒皇家医院附近逛逛。这样做的部分原因是，它就在我去往威斯敏斯特［11］的沿途；另有部分原因是，我脑海里有种对黑夜的奇想，只有看着伯利恒医院的墙壁和圆顶，这想象才能发挥到极致。我的奇想是：到了晚上，睡梦中的正常人难道和精神病人有什么两样吗？在生命中的每一晚，我们这些在医院外面的人都会做梦，这难道不正和医院里面的精神病人多多少少地情形相似吗？在夜晚，我们难道不正像他们在白天那样，荒谬地以为自己同大大小小的国王与王后、皇帝与皇后，与各式各样的名人显要有着关联吗？到了夜晚，我们难道不正像他们在白天那样，将事件、人员、时间和地点混成一团吗？我们有时为自己的纷乱睡梦所扰，对吧？我们有时急于说明或解释这些梦境，正如他们有时急于说明或解释自己在清醒时的幻觉，对吧？上次我在某家同类医院中遇到了一位精神病患者，他对我说：“先生，我经常会飞起来。”我有些羞愧地想，我也会飞——在晚上。在同一家医院，一位女患者说：“维多利亚女王常常来与我共进午餐。我和女王陛下身着睡袍，吃的是桃子和通心面。王夫殿下也盛情驾临。他穿着陆军元帅制服，是骑着马来的。”我想起自己曾（在夜晚）多次举办了盛大的皇室宴会，餐桌上放着数不清的美味佳肴，我在那尊贵的场合多么举止得体、气度非凡！想起这些，难道我能不羞愧得脸红吗？真奇怪，那全知的伟大主人将睡眠称为每一天生命的死亡，却未将睡梦称作每一天健全心智的精神错乱。

这样想着，我已将伯利恒皇家医院抛在了身后，再次朝泰晤士河走去。片刻之间，我便到了威斯敏斯特桥上，用一双流浪汉的眼睛贪赏着英国国会的外墙。我知道它是一所完美的庞大机构，并且深信：所有的周边国家和未来时代都会对它赞羡备至。但如果国会的工作效率也偶尔提高一下，也许就更好了。我拐进了旧宫院［12］，在皇家法院待了十五分钟，低声念叨着这些法院令多少人无法入眠，令那些不幸的原告感到深夜是多么悲惨、可怕。接下来的十五分钟，阴郁的威斯敏斯特大教堂［13］成了我的好伙伴。教堂里那些黑暗的拱门和立柱中间埋葬着多少杰出的亡者！每一世纪的来客都超拔无匹，令上一世纪叹为观止。实际上，在那些流浪的夜晚，我甚至还去过一些公墓。守墓人定时在墓地中巡逻，并转动一个指示器那磨得光溜溜的手柄，指示器就会记录下他们触动手柄的时间。一个古老的城市埋葬着数量多么惊人的亡者！倘若他们在生者入眠时全都死而复生、出来活动，所有的街巷里、道路上该拥挤到什么程度！生者要想出门来，会连插针的缝隙都找不到。这是一幕多么骇人的景象！不仅如此，连城外都会弥山遍野、密密麻麻，全是那无量数的亡者。只有上帝才会知道，这支连天匝地的大军向外周绵延到多远。

深夜时分，教堂的钟声突然敲响，流浪汉会误认为是同伴来了，发出一声欢呼。然而，在这死寂的中夜，你会分外清晰地听到，声波一圈一圈地荡漾开来、扩散出去，渐远渐轻，或许（像哲人所言）一直淡入那无尽的太空。这时，你才意识到自己的错误，更深邃的孤寂感随之袭来。有一次，我离开威斯敏斯特大教堂后，转弯朝北走去，到达圣马丁教堂那巨大的台阶下时，三点的钟声恰好敲响了。突然，一样东西从我脚前站了起来，同时发出了一声孤独无依的叫喊。它是受到了钟声的惊吓而叫起来的，那种叫声我闻所未闻。我再向前一步就要踩上它了。我们相对而立，彼此惊惧。原来是个眉毛浓密、长有髭须的年轻人，约有二十岁。他一只手紧攥着披在身上的几件破衣烂衫，从头到脚都在颤抖，牙齿咔咔作响。他紧盯着我——是迫害者？是恶魔？是鬼魂？管我是什么呢——就像一只受惊之犬，那哀号着的嘴巴似乎要向我猛咬。他一边尖叫、准备扑咬，一边后退。我想给这个凶恶的可怜人一点钱，就伸出一只手去安抚他，按住了他的肩膀。可他一下就甩掉了外衣，扭身闪开，恰如《新约》中的那个年轻人［14］。我独自站在那里，手里拎着他的褴褛衣衫。

逢集的早晨，考文特花园市场［15］就成了流浪汉的好伙伴。一辆辆装满了卷心菜的大马车就像是在举行盛会：菜农家的男人们和儿子们就睡在马车底下；这一带人家的凶犬看管着整个市场-花园地区。然而，就我所知，在这里鬼鬼祟祟地游来荡去的孩子乃是伦敦市最糟糕的夜景之一：他们在筐子里睡觉，为争抢被抛弃的禽畜杂肉而打斗，一看到任何可以下手偷盗的东西就飞奔而去，钻到拉车和手推车下躲避巡警；他们总是光着脚跑在这个露天市场的铺砌路面上，阵雨似地发出沉闷的啪啪声。你不由得开始比较：那些人们竭力改良、精心照顾的土地出产的农产品会逐渐腐烂，所有这些（除了被人驱赶之外）无人关心的野孩子显然也在逐渐腐烂，这是多么怪异、多么令人心痛的现实！

在考文特花园市场附近，有家很早就开的咖啡馆，那是流浪汉的又一个伙伴，而且是个温暖的伙伴，这就更好了。咖啡馆还供应大块的面包。面包是那个头发蓬乱的汉子在咖啡馆的一间内室里做出来的。他此时还没穿外套，也没太睡醒，在给顾客送来面包和咖啡之后，就坐在隔扇后面又睡着了，鼾声时塞时通、千变万化，很快就进入了梦乡。这家咖啡馆是弓街［16］附近最早的建筑物之一。一天凌晨，我游荡进了咖啡馆，在桌边坐下来，边喝咖啡边思考着接下来往哪去。一个男人走了进来。他身着鼻烟色的高领长大衣，脚上穿着鞋子，头上戴着帽子。我深信，他此外什么都没穿。他从帽子里拿出一大块凉的肉馅布丁。布丁非常大，把帽子撑得鼓鼓的。为了取出布丁，他把帽子的衬里全都翻了出来。肉馅布丁显然是这位神秘顾客的标志。他一到，睡意蒙眬的汉子就端上来一品脱［17］热茶、一小条面包、一套大刀叉和餐盘。汉子离开隔间后，这位主顾就直接把布丁放在桌面上，不是拿刀切开它，而是掌心朝下一下刺穿它，就像刺死一个不共戴天的仇敌；之后抽出刀来，在袖子上擦擦，然后用手指撕碎布丁，统统吃掉。这个吃布丁的人是我夜游期间遇到的最像鬼怪的人，至今记忆犹新。我只去过那家咖啡馆两次，两次都看到他直挺挺地大步走进来（应该说，他刚从墓穴爬出来，随即就要回去），取出布丁，刺穿它，擦擦利刃，消灭布丁。其身形令人联想到灰白色的死尸，但那张马脸分外绯红。我第二次看见他时，他嘶哑地问那个爱打盹的汉子：“今天晚上我的脸红吗？”“嗯，很红。”汉子直言不讳。那幽灵就说：“我母亲就是个贪杯的红脸女人。她进了棺材之后，我使劲看了看她，就变成了红脸膛。”不知怎地，那个肉馅布丁自此变得令人作呕，我就再也不去跟他碰面了。

不逢集或者想换换路线时，我就到火车站去。凌晨的邮车到站时，这里会热闹一番。但像世间的大多数伙伴一样，它只能陪我一小会儿：站台灯突然亮起来，搬运员从栖身处冒出来，出租马车、手推车吱吱嘎嘎地到达预定地点（邮局的大拉车已经到位）。最后，铃声响起，火车随即哐哐响着到站。但没有乘客上下车，也没行李可搬运，于是所有车、人都迅速散去。这些火车邮局有着巨大的网络，仿佛是拖着网在国土上打捞尸体。它们的车门倏地打开，喷出一股煤油灯的臭气、一个疲惫的职员、一个穿着红大衣的警卫，以及他们装满信件的背包。火车引擎喘息着、呻吟着、大汗淋漓，像是在边擦额头边诉说：“瞧我这一路跑得！”不到十分钟，灯火尽熄，我又成了孤单的流浪汉。

不过，此时，附近的大路上有人赶着牛群走来了。牛儿（通常都会像牛儿那样）想拐进石墙之中，挤进铁栏间那六英寸宽的空隙，（也通常都会像牛儿那样）低下头去，将货物抛向想象中的恶犬，给它们自己及其所有忠诚的看护人惹来一大堆多余的麻烦。此时，清醒的煤气灯也知道白昼将至，神色开始暗淡下来。大街上已经出现了三三两两的劳动者。夜间，醒时生活随着最后一个馅饼摊的最后一点火花而熄灭；现在，它则随着街角处第一批早点摊的炉火而复苏。这样，白昼的步伐越来越大；最后，它一个飞跃，来临了。而我也已身疲体倦，能够入睡了。在此时转身回家的路上，我曾认为，在夜晚那真正的荒原上，无家可归的流浪者茕然游荡，乃是伦敦最无趣的事情。而今我意识到，情况并非如此。我本就十分清楚，各式各样的罪恶与不幸都在何处，如果我乐意，就会找到它们；但我选择了规避，故此在无数漫长的街道上，我的流浪才能那般形单影只。

（牛云平　译）

［1］　草市街（Haymarket）位于伦敦市中心的繁华地段西区内，17世纪末以前曾是买卖干草、草料的农贸市场，18世纪以后逐渐发展为著名的娱乐区，街道两侧剧院、酒店林立。——译者注

［2］　指萨瑟克（Southwark），泰晤士河南岸地区，伦敦的自治区。——译者注

［3］　在18世纪中叶，金酒（Gin）价格低廉，是包括妇女、幼儿在内的穷人们面对无力改变的悲惨现实，麻醉自我、借以忘忧的主要手段。——译者注

［4］　滑铁卢桥是一座位于泰晤士河上的大桥，原本由斯特兰德桥梁公司出资建造，1811年始建，1817年初次建成使用，正值滑铁卢战役两周年纪念日。为纪念英荷普联军的胜利，此桥被命名为滑铁卢桥。该桥为收费大桥，行人收费标准为半便士／人次。19世纪40年代该桥成为许多寻短见者首选的自杀地点。1878年大桥收归国有，收费站随之取消。——译者注

［5］　便士：一种旧时英国硬币，12便士=1先令，240便士=1英镑。——译者注

［6］　在莎士比亚名剧《哈姆雷特》中，掘墓人挖出了一个据说是尤里克的骷髅，哈姆雷特手拿这骷髅回忆说，尤里克是他父王家里的小丑，他小时候经常骑在尤里克背上玩耍。因此，尤里克这个角色在《哈姆雷特》剧中是以骷髅形式出场的，尤里克的骷髅乃是演出该剧的必备道具。——译者注

［7］　新门监狱是伦敦市内一座著名的监狱，位于新门大街与老贝利大街交界处。据说初建于1188年，使用至1902年，并于1904年拆除。——译者注

［8］　1783年，伦敦城的绞刑架从泰伯恩行刑场搬到了新门监狱的这扇小门外。公开绞刑在此执行，常常吸引大批看客。1868年停止公开绞刑，改在新门监狱内执行。——译者注

［9］　圣墓堂（Church of St. Sepulchre）与新门监狱隔街相对，教堂尖塔的钟声常常意味着死刑的迫近。——译者注

［10］　位于伦敦市萨瑟克区的一座欠债人专用监狱，中世纪时始建，1880年拆除。——译者注

［11］　伦敦所辖的自治市，英国议会所在地。——译者注

［12］　旧宫院（Old Palaceyard）在国会大厦西侧。旧宫院再向西不远就是威斯敏斯特教堂的东端。可以步行穿过这个院子，进入国会大厦。——译者注

［13］　威斯敏斯特大教堂是皇室财产，是历代英国国王加冕的圣地，也是许多王室成员举行婚礼的场所，还是历代皇家陵园。陵园里还埋葬着牛顿、达尔文等许多英国伟人。本文作者狄更斯去世后也安葬于此。迄今为止，已有约3300人安葬在这里。——译者注

［14］　此处典故出自《新约·马可福音》（14：51—52）。在叛徒犹大带人来抓耶稣时，其他门徒都逃走了，但有一个少年人，赤身披着一块麻布，跟随耶稣。众人要抓他，可他甩掉麻布，赤身逃走了。随后，耶稣被带走了。——译者注

［15］　考文特花园市场是伦敦市一个传统的菜果花卉市场，已有300多年历史。——译者注

［16］　考文特花园市场中的一条街道。——译者注

［17］　（英制）品脱：容量或体积单位，约合0.568升。——译者注

迷失金融城

在我年龄和个头都还很小的时候，有一天在伦敦金融城里迷路了。某某（某某的魂灵啊，我忘记你的名字了，请原谅！）带我去观赏圣吉尔斯［1］教堂的外景，作为对我的隆重款待。我脑子里满是许多与那座宏伟的宗教建筑有关的浪漫想法，并且坚信：各种乞丐在工作日都装作瞎子、跛子、肢体残缺者、聋哑人或有其他身体疾病患者，可每到周日就抛开伪装，换上节日盛装，到他们庇护人的殿堂来参加圣仪。我约略认为，班姆菲尔德·摩尔·卡鲁［2］的现任继承人会在这种场合担当俗人委员一类的角色，坐在一个高高的挂着红帘子的厢席里。

时值春季，我这些稚嫩的念头随着季节抽出了新枝，搞得我的父母和保护人都头疼不已。于是，某某主动提出带我去看看圣吉尔斯教堂的外景。（我如今猜测）他们认为，那样很可能就会熄灭我的幻想之火，让我的头脑清醒过来。早饭之后，我俩出发了。我至今记得，某某那天的打扮很醒目：下穿质地良好、乳白色的条绒马裤，打着高帮斜纹布绑腿；上穿缀着闪亮纽扣的绿色外套，戴着条蓝色围巾，露着一圈极大的衬衫领子。我现在认为，那时他肯定（跟我一样）刚从肯特郡的蛇麻草地上走出来不久。但当时我将他奉为时尚之典范、礼仪之楷模——简直就是现世的哈姆雷特，只不过没有后者那棘手的家务事罢了。

我俩边走边聊，满意地观赏了圣吉尔斯教堂的外貌。尖塔上那面飘扬的旗子尤其让人激动不已。现在推想，我们随后就沿着河岸大道［3］走向了诺桑伯兰府［4］，去欣赏府门顶上那尊闻名遐迩的狮像。我记得很清楚，总之，就在我满怀敬畏和赞羡地仰望那头大名鼎鼎的动物时，某某不见了。

我迷路了！惶恐倏地攫取了我幼小的心灵。今日回想，那骤然惊惧仍历历如昨。我敢肯定，即便我那时发觉自己是在北极迷了路，而不是迷失在那条雄狮傲视之下的狭窄、拥挤、令人不安的街道上，心中惊悸也不过如此。然而，我边哭边沿街奔跑了几个来回，就将乍现的恐惧抛在了脑后。随后，我怀着一种凄凉的自尊感走进了一个庭院，在台阶上坐下，开始考虑如何度过一生。

我相信，我幼小的脑子里根本没有想到要问路回家。或许那时的我还很喜欢迷路后那种凄凉的自尊感呢。但是，我如今切实地相信，当我为未来规划宏大蓝图时，根本就没有注意到那最简短、最显见的人生道路。我猜，我当时只有八到九岁大，还非常幼稚。

我兜里有一先令零四便士，小指上戴着一枚白镴戒指，戒指上镶着一小块红玻璃。这件首饰是我的爱恋对象在我生日那天送给我的。我俩发誓要结婚，但也预料到双方家庭将会阻碍我们的结合。她（当时六岁）属于卫斯理宗，我则虔信英国国教［5］。就在我生日那天，我的教父——他是个既懂得自己职责所在又能履行职责的人——送给了我半克朗［6］，我花得还剩下这一先令零四便士。

有这些宝贝在身，我决定去碰碰运气。我想，我一旦发了迹，就驾着六匹马拉的大车回家去娶我的新娘子。想着这幅胜利的图景，我又哭了几声。可很快我就擦干眼泪，出了庭院，按计划踏上了征途。我的计划是：首先（作为某种仪式）前往市政大厅看看那对巨人像［7］，从他们身上汲取力量，相信自己的冒险可能会一帆风顺。如果这一招落空，就转而到金融城里转转看能否寻到威廷顿［8］式的发财机会。如果这一招也失利，就去参军当鼓手。

于是，我开始一路打听着去往市政厅。我当时莫名其妙地认为，“市政厅”就是“石造的”厅，或“有巨石的”厅。我非常精明地觉得，如果我打听通往巨人像之路，会被人笑话，所以就不能提巨人像的事。我至今记得，只剩我孤身一人时，街道显得多么宽阔无边！房屋显得多么高大！一切都多么威严而神秘！到了圣殿关石门［9］前，我目不转睛地盯着它看了半个小时，但还是没看完就继续前进了。我在书上读到过，圣殿门顶上放着许多示众的人头。因此，这个石门虽然是件威严的建筑杰作和实用典范，但似乎也是个凶恶的古老地方。我最终离开那里之后，呀！一下就看到了圣邓斯坦教堂上的巨人像［10］！那些亲切的怪物敲钟的情形，谁看到后还能走得开呢？在他们几次敲响一刻钟的当儿，我到那家玩具店看了看——在我写下这篇文字的此刻，这家玩具店还在那儿，只是已面貌一新了——一个多小时之后，我从那个迷人的地方脱身，来到了高高耸立的圣保罗大教堂［11］前。我怎么能错过它那伟岸的穹顶呢？怎么才能将目光从它的金色十字架上移开呢？去市政厅看巨人像的路途真是遥远啊，而且行进速度很缓慢。

终于，我来到了他们面前，满怀恐惧和崇敬地注视着他们。他们看上去比我预想的要和蔼些，总体说来脸色比较灿烂，可是非常高大。我估计他们的底座大约有四十英尺［12］高，要是他们下来走在石板路上，会是两个庞然大物。我思考着这些，对着两个巨人出神（我估计，孩童们见到他们大抵都会如此的）。尽管知道这些雕像并非血肉之躯，我仍旧认为他们有生物特征——例如，他们知道我在那儿，并在偷偷地注意我。我累极了，就钻到马高格下面的角落里，躲过了他的视野，睡起了觉。

一个大觉之后，我突然惊醒了，感觉那两个巨人好像在咆哮，却转而发现原来是金融城的喧闹声。周围一切如故，与我睡前一模一样：豆茎啦、仙女啦、公主啦、龙啦，统统都没有，也没见任何新的人生转机。我饿了，就想去买些食物回这儿来吃掉，然后继续按计划寻找威廷顿式的发财机会。

我坦然自若地在面包店买了一便士的面包卷，可在好几家美食店前探头探脑地徘徊了一番，却未能鼓足勇气进门。最后，我在一家美食店的橱窗里看到一堆熟香肠，旁边的标签上写着：“日耳曼小鬼，一便士”。这下，我知道想买什么了，就勇敢地走进去说：“请问你们能不能卖给我一个日耳曼小鬼？”他们卖给了我。我兜里揣着那根包着纸的香肠回到了市政厅。

两个巨人仍然待在那儿，偷偷地假装没有注意我。于是，我就在另一个角落里坐下来，眼前只有一条竖着耳朵的狗。是条黑狗，一只眼上面有一撮白毛，脚爪上有一块块白色和褐色的杂毛。它想和我玩耍：它围着我蹦来跳去、在我身上蹭鼻子、从我身旁窜过、摇头晃脑地假装倒着跑，显得友善而滑稽，仿佛它根本不计较个人形象、只为逗我开心似的。那时，我看着这条狗，想到了威廷顿，感到机会就要来了。我不断地说“嘿，小狗！”、“可怜的家伙！”、“好狗狗！”，逗引着它。我满意地认为，此后它就永远成为我的狗了，并会帮我谋求发财之道。

这让我感到了宽慰（迷路后我不时地会哭一鼻子），就将那个日耳曼小鬼香肠从口袋里掏出来，准备吃午餐。我先咬下一小口扔给狗，它向那侧一扑就吞吃掉了，就像吞药片似的。我咬第二口的时候，它紧盯着我的脸，等着我再扔给它一块；而我这时在考虑该给它起个什么名字。我觉得，在此情此景之下，“美妙运气”这个名字不错，含义很丰富。如今回想，我那时正为想出了这么个好名字而得意非凡，可“美妙运气”却开始极其凶狠地朝我狂吠起来。

我奇怪地想：它怎能这么没羞没耻？可它才不管这一套呢，反而吼叫得更凶了。它嘴里淌着口水，眼睛闪着红光，鼻子湿漉漉的，脑袋使劲地歪向一边，一边冲我吠叫，一边围着我在石铺地面上鬼鬼祟祟而充满恐吓地转悠，最后突然嗖地一下咬住那个日耳曼小鬼，从我手里扯出去，叼着它跑掉了。它再也没有回来帮我谋求发财之道。我现在已经四十岁了，从那一刻至今，再也没有见过我忠诚的“美妙运气”。

我非常孤独。与其说那是由于我失掉了好吃的日耳曼小鬼香肠（当时我还没听说过有加了大量胡椒粉的马肉这种美食），不如说是因为“美妙运气”那么残忍地令我失望。我曾相信，它除了不会说话，会做出一切友好的举动；没准它甚至也能学会说话呢。我又哭了一会儿，心想：如果我的爱恋对象跟我一块儿迷路该多好，她能和我做伴儿呀。不过，我马上就想到，她可不能参军当鼓手，于是就擦干眼泪，吃掉了面包。从市政厅出来后，我遇到了一个卖牛奶的妇女，就从她那儿买了一便士的牛奶喝掉了。吃喝之后，我的精神头又来了，就开始在金融城漫游，寻找威廷顿式的发财之道。

如今我每次进金融城，都悲哀地感到自己真是个有文化的可怜人。可那时，我只是个迷路的孩子，在那里游逛的时候，想到大英商界和金融城市长，心中满是崇敬。如今在那里游逛的时候，我会嘲笑那些庄重的礼服，并愤慨地认为，金融城市政府是当今世上最严重的恶作剧之一。孩提时的我哪里会懂得今日金融城里那总是遭遇失望的无数大众？他们总是希望在那里遇到个伙伴、得到些钱，却总是希望落空。孩提时的我哪里听说过那个大好人、金融城里的朋友？他要为那么多的人做那么多的事；他要让这个人担任国内的某个职务，让那个人担任国外的某个职务；他要搞定这个人的债权人，为那个人的儿子谋个生计，并确保另一个人拿到酬金；他要“投身于”这家伟大的股份制企业中去，要进入那家人寿保险公司的董事会；然而，他从来不做这些预报了的事情。孩提时的我哪里会了解那个号称是绅士、摩西宗阿拉伯人［13］和其他人的朋友的人？他通常出现在各种赛场上，主要居住在红狮广场一带；他无法减少纸币的总量，身边却恰巧放着一桶醒目的上等雪利酒、一只梳妆盒和一幅提香［14］的《维纳斯》，难道拥有这些物品的他乐意补足差额？孩提时的我哪里会听说那个人呢？在那个单纯的时代，他向那些一脸严肃的秃顶人士吐露机密（这机密从未碰巧证明有丝毫的正确性），后者又神秘兮兮地在饭桌边把这秘密透露给了屏息以待的听众。没有。我是否已懂得他是个可怕的贪婪的家伙、不值一提的骗子、一个纯属虚构的名人？没有。我是否听说过他与金融市场上的资金紧绌有关、与统一公债的沉闷状况有关、与黄金出口有关、与众人面前的拦路石——小麦的度量单位蒲式耳［15］——有关？没有。我对下面这些名词的意思可有丝毫概念？——假公济私、操纵市场、伪造账目、虚构红利、美化事物等。丝毫都没有。我难道没有发现，哈德逊先生本人不正明摆着是头瞪着眼的死金牛犊吗？无从发现。在我眼里，金融城就是一个巨大的商场，遍地都是宝石、贵金属、大酒桶、大捆包，充满了荣誉、慷慨、进口水果、进口香料。每位商人兼银行家都是菲茨沃伦先生［16］和水手辛巴德［17］的复合体。每当风向适合航往巴巴里，而且船长也在家，史密斯、佩恩和史密斯［18］就会将家仆们（包括那名坏脾气的厨师）召集起来，让他们备好自己的船上用品。格林和哈利法克斯［19］二人曾在钻石之谷中经历了巨大困难。霸菱兄弟［20］见识过了大鹏鸟蛋［21］，并随沙漠商队旅行过。罗思柴尔德［22］曾坐在巴格达的市场上售卖各式各样的货物；一位戴着面纱、骑着驴子的女士爱上了他，她来自苏丹［23］的后宫。

我就这样在城里漫游，就像一个梦境中的孩童。我盯着那些英国商人，坚定地相信一切都那么神奇，心中溢满激昂之情。我走近府第，又远离府第——走进庭院和小广场，又走出庭院和小广场。我隔着缝隙窥视一下账房外的走廊，然后跑掉。我那羞怯的脚步声单调地回荡在南海公司总部的庭院里。我接着逛到了奥斯丁修会中，好奇地想，过去那些修道士怎么会喜欢这个地方呢？我就这样一直在游逛，不停地凝视着那些英国商人，不厌其烦地浏览着那些商号。为了说清各个地方，我编造了这些故事，并虔诚地相信它们，正如我虔诚地相信金融城本身。我至今尤为清楚地记得，当我发现自己来到了皇家交易所［24］，看到那些坐在船只海报下面衣着破烂的人时，我内心认定：他们是财迷精，将全部家产都投到了船上，去买金砂或类似的东西，此时正等着各自的船长回来告诉他们将要起航了。我观察到，他们都在大声嚼着脆饼干。我觉得他们那么做是为了预防晕船。

到处游逛是件开心事，但却仍旧没有产生威廷顿式的结果。市长官邸里正在准备午餐，我隔着一个装有窗栅的厨房窗子偷偷朝里望去，看到了那些戴着白帽子正在忙碌的男厨师。我的心开始咚咚跳起来，盼望着市长大人，或者市长夫人，或者他们的某个女儿、年轻的市长千金，会从楼上的某个房间朝外看，并命人把我带进去。可是，什么都没发生。我这样窥视了一段时间之后，一名厨师朝我喊道（窗子开着）：“小子，走开！”我吓了一跳，看到他长着黑黑的络腮胡子，我立刻就乖乖地走开了。

随后，我来到了东印度大楼，问一个小孩那是什么地方。他不作回答，只是做鬼脸，并拉扯我的头发，整番举动毫不文雅、毫无礼貌。我对东印度大楼十分崇敬，这可能让詹姆斯·霍格爵士［25］本人非常满意。我毫不怀疑地认为，它是地球表面上最卓越、最高尚、最清廉，事实上最公正无私、在各方面都最惊人的机构。我那时已懂得誓言的内涵，差点发誓说东印度公司就是一整块完美无瑕的贵橄榄石。

那些去印度的男孩子们，一到印度就开始抽起形如翻卷的拉铃绳的烟斗来，而毫不感到难受。他们的结局就是脚上头下地栽进某个雕花玻璃糖罐里。一路想着这些，我来到了那些赴印装备店。在那里，我读到了奔赴印度的年轻人必备物品的各类清单。我看到“一对手枪”这一条时，想到：能够踏上赴印征程是一桩多大的幸事！但这里仍然看不到哪个英国商人有将我带回他家的意思。只有一个烟囱清洁工例外——他打量着我，好像认为我很适合他那一行，可我赶紧跑开了。

一整天我都深受男孩子们的折磨。现在想来，尽管我当时并没有冒犯他们，但他们不是追着我转过街角，就是把我逼进门口的死角，非常野蛮地对待我。有个男孩子兜里装着半截黑铅笔，就在我白帽子的帽顶上写上了他母亲的名字和（他声称的）地址：“布劳斯夫人　沃平区烟草塞街木腿道”。那字迹我怎么也擦不掉。

我记得，在遭受这般迫害之后，我在一个小小的教堂墓地里休息了一会儿。我考虑了整个事件，觉得如果我和我的爱恋对象能够立刻被埋葬在那儿，就会让我得到解脱。可是，在打了个盹、喝了点水、吃了个小面包，特别是看了一幅画之后，我又精神抖擞了。

如今想来，我那时肯定是游荡到了古德曼菲尔德剧院或者邻近的什么地方。那幅画上画的是某出戏里的一幕场景，附近的某家剧院正在上演这出戏。不过，那家剧院现在已经没了。那幅画使我想去那家剧院看看那出戏。威廷顿计划显然无法实现了，我于是决定：看完戏后，一路打听找到军营，敲开营房的大门，告诉他们我知道他们想招鼓手，而我就是去当鼓手的。我想那时肯定是曾听人说过，而我自己也相信，每个军营大门后面都有个兜里装着1先令［26］的哨兵在日夜值守。我还相信，要是哪个男孩被人以任何方式成功劝诱而同意参军，立即就会当上鼓手，除非他的父亲交纳400英镑的赔偿金。

我找到了那家剧院。它的外貌我记不清了，只记得剧院的正面用土黄色草草地涂着两个显示忠诚的词首字母“G.R.”。我跟一大群人一起在楼座门外等着开门。那群人中大部分都是水手，他们和身边的其他观众一样，都来自社会底层。他们的言谈不堪入耳，但我对其糟粕不甚了了，所以也没有产生令我堕落的恶劣影响。我至今都在怀疑，与这类群体过从多久就能带坏一个受过我这样教育、像我这般纯洁的孩子？

无论在楼座门外还是在剧院之中，每当我发觉有人注意我的样貌，就假装在寻找某个带着我来却跟我分开了的大人，并对那个想象中的人物点头微笑。这个办法很有效。我手里攥着枚六便士的硬币，准备交费。门开了，门闩吱嘎乱响，人群中的妇女一阵尖叫，我像一根稻草那样，跟着人流前进。我那枚六便士硬币被收费处那鸽巢似的洞口飞快地吞了进去。在我眼里，那洞口就像个嘴巴。我爬上了观众较少的上层楼梯，（像所有别人那样）一路狂奔，要占个好位置。我到达楼座后端时，那里还没几个人。那些座位看上去高得可怕，活像是一组跳台，要将我头朝下抛入楼下的正厅里去。在极度惊恐之中，我紧紧抓住了一个座位。然而，有位带着个年轻女伴的和善面包师向我伸出了手。于是我们三人一起翻过座位，来到了第一排的角落里。面包师很喜欢他的女伴，整晚看戏期间都不停地亲吻她。

我刚刚坐好，突然有件事重重地压在了我的心上，极其可怕地折磨着我的心灵。我得把它讲清楚。那晚是一场义演——那位喜剧演员的义演。他又矮又胖，长着一张非常宽大的脸，戴着一顶（我那时觉得）有史以来最小最可笑的帽子。为了让他的朋友们和观众满意，这位喜剧演员宣布，他先骑着一头驴子唱支幽默的歌曲，然后再把这头非凡的驴子作为奖品，颁发给抽中大奖者。所有获准入场的池座观众和楼座观众都有机会参加这次抽奖。我交那枚六便士硬币的时候，得到了一个号码——47号。如果这个号码被抽中，我就会赢得那头驴子，那到底该怎么办呢？！我一想到这儿，就冒出了恐惧的冷汗。

想着我可能出现的好运气，我浑身战栗。万一47号被抽中，我将根本无法隐瞒该号码属于我这一事实，因为我让面包师看了这个号码，更何况我的困窘也会立即表明被抽中的是我。然后，我想象着自己被叫上舞台，领取那头驴子。我想象着，当全场的人看到大奖落到了我这样一个小家伙的头上，会发出怎样的一阵尖叫！我该怎么把驴子牵出剧院呢？——他肯定不愿意走。要是他大声叫唤起来，我该怎么办？要是他尥蹶子乱踢，我会落个什么下场？要是他驮着我倒退到舞台门里去，赖着不出来呢？我感到，如果我赢得了这头驴，那位喜剧演员一俟我走近就会把我放到驴背上去。然后，要是我把他带出了剧院，该对他做什么呢？我该怎么喂养他？把他拴在哪儿？我一个人迷路已经够糟的了，而带着一头驴迷路就是一场天大的灾难，大到超出了我的想象。

第一段戏演完了，可我的脑海里忧惧盘旋，根本无法安心赏戏。海船上场了——海报上将它称作一艘真正的战舰——庞大的船体在巨浪滔天的大海上剧烈颠簸着。即便这么恐怖的风暴场面也不能令我忘掉那头驴。水手们拿着望远镜和喊话喇叭在船上东倒西歪地到处乱跑（他们在那艘战舰上显得非常高大），看上去真是一幅可怕的画面。同样可怕的是，舵手很可能已经无可避免地背叛了船员们，因为他一边喊着“我们迷路了！快上救生艇！快上救生艇！雷电击中了主桅！”，一边在我眼皮子底下将主桅从插槽里拔出来，扔下船去。然而，在那头驴子引发的恐惧面前，就连这些震撼人心的情节都显得苍白无色。后来，那个（极好的）好水手得到了好运，那个（极坏的）坏水手从一块形状奇特、貌似折梯之类东西的岩石上跳入了海中。甚至在这时，我仍在泪眼婆娑中看到了那头驴子的可怖身影。

终于，那一刻到来了。小提琴手们开始演奏那首幽默曲子，那头令我无限畏惧的动物咔嗒咔嗒地出现在舞台上，背上驮着那位喜剧演员。我根据驴蹄发出的声响推断，他新钉了掌。他身披彩带（我指的是驴子），坚持要将尾巴对着观众。喜剧演员就从他背上跳下，转过身来，倒骑在驴背上，在雷鸣般的掌声中连唱了那首歌曲三遍。在此期间，我一直害怕得焦躁不安。池座中有两个面色苍白、身上溅满街中泥污的观众受邀起身，到舞台上去监督抽签过程，其他观众对他们报以一阵哄笑。这时，我本可乞求他们、恳求他们对我大发慈悲，不要抽到47号。

不过，我的痛苦很快就解脱了。一位坐在我身后的先生的号码被抽中了，就下楼去领奖。他穿着法兰绒短上衣，戴着条黄色围巾，在风暴刮起之前就吃掉了两条炸鳎鱼和所有衣袋里的坚果。这位先生似乎很熟悉那头驴，在他出场之前就认识他，而且对他的一系列活动都兴趣盎然。用一个好理解的词儿来描述他吧——他几乎是凑在我的耳边，自言自语地“赶”着那头驴。每当驴出了什么差错，他就说：“过雷（来），小驴宝贝儿。过雷（来）！”他试图骑上驴背，可被摔在了地上，逗得观众们（包括我本人）开怀大笑。不过，等他再站起来，却娴熟地骑着驴子下台了，而且不久就十分平静地回到了自己的座位上。盘桓已久的沉重忧惧涣然冰释，我平静了下来，踏踏实实地欣赏了其余的表演。我记得，那出戏里面有不少舞蹈场面，有带着镣铐跳的，有在玫瑰丛里跳的。有一场舞蹈中，舞者旁边有一个美若天仙的小姑娘，跟她一比，我的爱恋对象黯然失色、平凡无奇。在最后的一场戏中，她又出现了，这次扮作一个男孩（戴盔穿甲），数次被剧中其他人物所保护。我如今在一定程度上认为，当时的剧情是：一个男爵想把她淹死，但数次被那位喜剧演员、一个鬼魂、一只纽芬兰犬和一口教堂大钟阻止。此外，我如今只记得，我当时很纳闷那个男爵打算去哪里；还有，他在一阵火星儿中到了那儿。火星儿熄灭的同时，灯也全熄了。这让我感到，整出戏——船啦、驴啦、男男女女啦、美若天仙的小姑娘啦，一切一切——都是一个引爆了的奇妙烟花，爆炸过后，只余尘灰与黑暗。

我出了剧院来到大街上时，天色已经很晚。天上没有月亮，也没有星星，大雨倾盆。人群四散之后，我一个人孤单地走着，记忆中那个鬼魂和那个男爵的面目非常丑陋。我感到难以名状的孤寂。此时，我的小床和那些亲爱的、熟悉的面容才第一次浮现在眼前。白天里，我从未想到过家人会多么悲痛，从未想到过我的母亲，从未想到过任何别的事情。我只是在自我调整，以适应所处的境遇，并到处寻找发财机会。

我意识到，如果一个男孩只会哭泣、只会到处乱跑，嘴里嚷着“哎呀，我迷路了！”，那么他根本不可能想去当兵。我放弃了一路打听去兵营的念头——或者说，那个念头离我而去——开始到处乱跑，最后发现了一个在岗哨上值班的巡夜人。如今回想，我很惊诧，他当时竟然还醒着。我倾向于认为，他是身体太虚弱，无力喝醉酒了。

这位可敬的人士将我带到了最近的哨所——说是他带着我，实际是我带着他。因为回想起我们二人那时在雨中穿行的情景，肯定形成了一幅画面，恰如一幅幼儿牵着老人的小插图。他吓人地咳嗽着，每走近一面墙时，都要靠上去歇一会儿。我俩终于到达了哨所——一个寂静慵懒的温暖地方，四壁上挂着几件大衣和拨浪鼓状的物件。他们派一个患有麻痹病的人去寻找我的家人，我随后就靠在炉火边睡着了，好大的一觉！等我醒过来，映入眼帘的是我父亲的脸。这就是我那次迷路的全部经过。我小时候，他们常常说我是个与众不同的孩子。现在想来，他们说的没错。或许我还是个与众不同的大人。

记忆中的某某啊，原谅我带给了你忧虑吧！即便是现在，每当我站在那尊雄狮的下面，都会看到你仓皇地沿着大街奔来跑去，听不进去别人的安慰。从那时至今，我曾多次迷路，而且游逛得越来越远。但愿我那些次迷路带给别人的烦恼，少于我这次迷路带给你的烦恼！

（牛云平　译）

［1］　圣吉尔斯（Saint Giles，约650—约710）是希腊基督教隐士，据传生于雅典，后在今法国南部隐居，被认为是穷人、残疾人、精神病人、铁匠、动物和森林等事物的保护者。——译者注

［2］　班姆菲尔德-摩尔-卡鲁（Bamfylde Moore Carew，1693—约1758），英国有名的流氓、浪子，擅长伪装，自称是乞丐之王。——译者注

［3］　该道路英文为Strand，又译斯特兰德街，街上有许多著名的旅馆和剧院。——译者注

［4］　诺桑伯兰府位于河岸大道上，是诺桑伯兰公爵的府第，建于十七世纪早期，1874年拆除，在原址上修成了诺桑伯兰大道。——译者注

［5］　16世纪，英国王权在与罗马教廷的斗争中实施了宗教改革，建立了本国的民族教会，一般译为英国国教，又译英格兰圣公会。卫斯理宗原为英国国教中的一派，形成于十八世纪三四十年代，主张因信称义，倡导严格遵照圣经过道德的宗教生活，因此又称“循道宗”或“监理宗”。——译者注

［6］　克朗为英国旧币制单位硬币，1克朗=5先令=60便士，半克朗=2先令6便士。——译者注

［7］　伦敦市政厅门前的两个木雕巨像。巨人名为高格（Gog）和马高格（Magog），被认为是伦敦金融城的守护神。——译者注

［8］　指英国民间故事《迪克·威廷顿和猫》中的主人公迪克·威廷顿。迪克是个孤儿，听说伦敦金融城里连街道都铺满了黄金，就去那里谋求发财之道。他失望地发现，实际情况并非如此。他又冷又饿地蜷缩在一位富商菲茨沃伦先生的府第前睡着了。仁慈的菲茨沃伦先生发现了他，还雇他当了洗碗工。迪克因为住处经常有老鼠出没，就挣钱买了一只猫来驱鼠。一天，菲茨沃伦先生要远航到某个港口去做黄金生意，就问他的家仆们是否愿意送给他些什么东西带上船。迪克极不情愿地把自己的猫送给了他。菲茨沃伦先生一直待迪克很好，但他家的厨师却非常凶暴，迪克忍无可忍，决定逃跑。可他要逃离金融城的时候，却听到城里圣玛丽勒博教堂的钟声敲响了，似乎在说：“威廷顿你不要慌，三次当上大市长”。于是，迪克返了回去，发现菲茨沃伦先生的船已经返航了。北非巴巴里国王的王宫里老鼠猖獗，迪克那只擅长捕鼠的猫就被高价卖给了巴巴里国王，迪克从此成了有钱人。他开始与菲茨沃伦先生合伙做生意，后来又娶了菲茨沃伦先生的女儿爱丽丝，而且最终像钟声预言的那样，三次成为金融城的市长。

这个民间故事的原型是理查·威廷顿（Richard Whittington，约1354—1423），—位中世纪英国商人、政治家。少年时，威廷顿作为幼子，因无权继承父亲财产，被送往金融城学做绸布生意，很快成长为一名成功巨商，并与英国王室来往密切。他数次被任命或选举为金融城市长，并成为国会议员和伦敦地区司法长官。同时，威廷顿热心公益，生前、身后都大笔捐助了医疗、卫生、监狱、图书馆、教堂等事业。——译者注

［9］　圣殿关是伦敦金融城的西部边界，向东在金融城内的路段是河湾街（Fleet Street，又音译为弗利特街，也有人错译为舰队街），向西是通往威斯敏斯特市的河岸大道。这里的石门自1670年前后建成后，门顶上经常陈列着叛国者的首级示众。——译者注

［10］　这座教堂上有一组报时钟表，表的上方有两个手拿长棍的巨人雕像，据称是高格和马高格。每到整点和每隔一刻钟，巨人像就会用木棍敲击面前悬挂的两口钟，同时转动头部。——译者注

［11］　圣保罗大教堂是英国国教伦敦教区的主教座堂，坐落于伦敦金融城中最高处的卢德门山上。现存巴洛克风格的建筑始建于1675年，于1697年年底投入使用，以其壮观的圆形屋顶而驰名于世，是伦敦最著名的标志性建筑之一。——译者注

［12］　1英尺约合0.3048米；40英尺约合12.2米。——译者注

［13］　摩西宗阿拉伯人（Mosaic Arabs）是英国政治家、小说家本雅明·迪斯累利（Benjamin Disraeli，1804—1881）发明的对犹太人的称呼。迪斯累利出身于犹太家庭，但少时受洗成为英国国教徒，在维多利亚女王统治下曾于1868年和1874—1880年间两度出任英国首相，大力推行对外侵略和殖民扩张政策，建立了强大的殖民帝国。他也是迄今唯一一个具有犹太血统的英国首相。他借其小说《恩底弥翁》（Endymion）中的人物希德尼娅之口，不无骄傲地称犹太人为摩西宗阿拉伯人，宣扬种族主义思想。——译者注

［14］　提香·韦切利奥（Tiziano Vecellio，1490—1576）是文艺复兴时期最重要的威尼斯派画家，其作品充满生机和理想色彩，富于热情，享有“西方油画之父”的美誉，在西方艺术史上有着伟大而深远的影响。——译者注

［15］　蒲式耳是英国粮食度量单位，其度量工具在不同地区和不同时期都存在大小不一致的复杂情况。——译者注

［16］　菲茨沃伦是《迪克·威廷顿和猫》故事中的人物，详见前文“威廷顿”条注释。——译者注

［17］　水手辛巴德的故事讲的是，在中世纪的巴士拉地区，生活着一个叫辛巴德的虚构人物。他通过在东非和南亚沿海地区的7次航海发了大财。——译者注

［18］　史密斯-佩恩-史密斯于19世纪合伙成立了一家英国私人合资银号。该银号为早期银行业巨头，资财无数，影响巨大。——译者注

［19］　格林和哈利法克斯于18世纪合伙成立了一家英国私人合资银号。该银号为早期银行业巨头，财富丰厚，一度岁入90000英镑。——译者注

［20］　霸菱兄弟于1762年创建了伦敦第一家商业银行，为银行业中的名门。但1995年，这家有着233年悠久历史的银行因其雇员李森的巨额投机投资而破产。——译者注

［21］　阿拉伯神话中，传说有一种食肉的白色大鹏鸟，它下的蛋也硕大无朋。在《马可•波罗游记》、《天方夜谭》、《水手辛巴德》等东方故事中都提到了这种巨鸟。欧洲人过去曾认为这种鸟确实存在，后来则称“大鹏鸟蛋”为虚幻之物。——译者注

［22］　日耳曼-犹太血统的罗思柴尔德家族是著名欧洲银行世家，于17世纪晚期进入银行业和金融业，其财富在18世纪达到巅峰。据信，当时该家族拥有的私人财富为世界有史以来的第一位、近现代历史上的第一位，至今无人超越。——译者注

［23］　苏丹是伊斯兰国家最高统治者的称号。——译者注

［24］　伦敦金融城的皇家交易所（Royal Exchange）位于康喜尔街（Cornhill Street）和针线街（Threadneedle Street）交会于银行交叉点（Bank junction）的一段，平面图呈梯形。交易所始建于1565年，后经两次大火烧毁和两次重建，现有建筑于1844年第三次建成，使用至今。1939年，这里完成了作为交易所的使命。如今的皇家交易所乃是一个奢侈品购物中心。——译者注

［25］　詹姆斯·霍格爵士（Sir James Hogg，1790—1876）是英国律师、国会议员，曾两度担任东印度公司董事长。——译者注

［26］　有许多年，英国军队的日饷都是1先令，所以成语“接受国王的1先令”意为同意参军。18和19世纪，英国陆军和皇家海军在招募期间，都会付给新兵1先令作为定金。当时的征兵员运用各种诡计，特别是通过请喝烈酒的方式，将1先令定金强塞给毫无戒心的人。由于工作条件艰苦而危险，皇家海军还雇用了抓丁队，通过偷袭、威胁、抓打等各种残暴手段，在大街上强征各种年龄段的水手、平民入伍。抓来的壮丁统统被塞给1先令定金。拿了定金的人要当着太平绅士的面宣誓入伍，然后才能正式成为新兵。如果他在宣誓前不再想当兵，就得交纳一定数额的“解除兵役赔偿金”。到19世纪40年代，赔偿金的金额已高达1英镑（合20先令），绝大多数新兵都交不起。——译者注

查塔姆造船厂

在泰晤士河和梅德韦河［1］上有一些偏僻的码头，夏季时，我常在那里闲逛。面对流水，人就会浮想联翩。而我，最爱面对着潮汐强劲的河流遐想无限。我喜欢看这样的景象：大船离岸而去或者满载而归；那些矮小的蒸汽机拖船自信满满地喷着烟汽，拖着大船在海平线上来来往往，一派忙碌；一队驳船挂着棕色或红褐色的船帆，那色彩似乎是从沿岸熟透的树上采下来的；笨重、陈旧的运煤船载着少量的压舱物，迎着潮水困难地行进着；浅色的螺旋桨推进三桅帆船和纵帆船傲慢地直线行进，别的船则耐心地抢风绕行；船身小巧、挂着巨大白帆的快艇和小帆船急促地来来往往，为种种消遣或商业任务奔忙着——就像那些小人物，为了自己的琐事而大吵大闹。我眼望着这些物事，却丝毫不必思考它们，甚至不必看到它们，除非当时情景恰合我的心情。我也不必听到潮水的飞溅声、拍击声及其在我脚下起伏的声音，不必听到远处的起锚机发出的叮当声，或是更远处蒸汽轮船的轮桨发出的嗡嗡声。这一切，连同我身下那咯吱作响的码头、淤泥中的高水位线和低水位线、沉陷的堤道、坍塌的河岸、歪斜的断树残桩，都会融入在我驰骋的思绪之中。那些断树残桩似乎颇以自己的容貌为傲，倾身顾盼着它们在水面上的倒影。在湿地上吃草的牛羊、在我周围盘旋和点水的海鸥、从丰收的田野上（远离射程）起飞回巢的乌鸦和捕鱼归来的苍鹭，也均可出入我的遐思。那只苍鹭忧郁地高飞着，仿佛天空配不上它似的。在流水的帮助下，感觉范围之内的一切事物都会与之外的一切交汇融合，宛如一支无从确切描述的乐曲，催人入眠。

在其中一个码头附近，有一座古老的堡垒（在那里，我能用放大镜看到诺尔灯船［2］），从里面冒出了一个男孩。在他的帮助下，我原本贫乏的知识大为扩充。他岁数不大，面相聪颖，皮肤被夏日的骄阳烤成了土褐色，长着土褐色的卷发。我发现，在这个男孩身上，除了一只正在消散的青肿眼眶外（我很细心地没问他何故如此），没有一样东西不彰显着勤学好问、乐读善思的习惯。正是从他那儿，我学会了识别位于任意距离之外的海关船只，懂得了那溯流返航的东印度公司大商船在海关官员登船检查时所遵行的全套程式和礼仪。要不是他，我或许永远不会知道“哑疟”一词，如今我已很了解这种病了。要是当初不曾在他的脚前坐过，我或许终生都不会知道，那种帆上印有白马标记的驳船乃是运石灰的船。同样，我也是从他那听到了关于啤酒的种种重大机密。其中有一条是：他警告我不要喝某个厂家生产的啤酒，因为那些啤酒供过于求，已经酸坏了。可这位年轻的智者并不认为那厂家生产的麦芽酒也坏掉了。他还教我触摸湿地上的蘑菇，并温和地责备我，嫌我无知地认为蘑菇里装满了盐。他传授知识的方式细致周到、合乎情境。他在我身旁坐下来，斜靠在岸边，先向河里丢一块小石头或砂砾，随后就开始发神谕般地讲起来，似乎他的话是从河面上扩散着的波纹的圆心冒出来的。他毫无例外，总是以此方式开始给我授讲新知。

这个男孩——我不知他的姓名，就管他叫“堡垒精灵”——是我新近认识的。那天微风吹拂，河水在我俩周围跃动，充满了生机。我在金黄色的田野上看了一番正被运送的禾捆，然后来到了河边。那个红脸膛的农夫望着在自家稻谷堆上的凹陷处忙碌着的雇工，告诉我说，他上周如何收割了二百六十英亩的长秆稻，那是他这一辈子活计干得最棒的一周。整个乡间充满了优美的形态和色彩，一派安宁、丰裕气象。这丰收景象似乎还乘着满载黄色谷物的驳船，沿河而下，飘撒一路馨香，去妆扮那从无稼穑的海洋。

就在这一背景下，“堡垒精灵”对着一块漂浮在水面上的铁电池发表了评论。那块铁电池新近才出现在那里。从他的评论中，我了解到他对造船学的看法，还得知他想成为一名工程师。我发现他的才干足以胜任皮托先生［3］和布拉塞先生［4］的所有工程合同中的所有项目：他很会制作混凝土、熟悉铁的性能，而且在枪炮制造和操作方面造诣高超。他谈起打桩术和造闸法时，我一句话也插不上。他容忍了我的无知沉默，令我感激不尽。在讲这些话的过程中，他朝远处岸上的某个地点望了好几次，并且带着含糊、神秘的敬畏提到“那个厂子”。与他分手后，我思考着他的教导，突然想起“那个厂子”是我国一家大型国有造船厂。它就隐藏在风车群后斜坡下的庄稼地中间，似乎是在和平时期谦恭地躲开了人们的视线，不想给任何人带来麻烦。既然“那厂子”如此谦恭，我就决定增进对它的了解。

近观之下，“那厂子”的谦恭美德留给我的美好印象并未遭到破坏。厂子里回荡着铁锤砸铁的声音。隔河注目，巨大的工棚或长廊下，正在建造庞大的军舰，似乎效率颇高。尽管如此，但“那厂子”毫不张扬，而是舒服地隐藏在布满了庄稼地、蛇麻草地和果园的山坡下；它宽大的烟囱静静地——几乎是懒惰地——冒着烟，就像个正在抽烟的巨人。一台剪切机停在厂子旁边，身形庞大却温驯友善，就像只机械长颈鹿。停放在附近武器码头上的大炮显得一派纯真，就像一只只玩具。在大炮上方执勤的哨兵身着红色军服，有规律地移动着，就像个玩具小人。在火热的阳光照耀下，他身上反着光，使他有可能被误认为是另一个一模一样的持枪小人，枪里装的子弹是——铅制的。

我过了河，登上了浮动平台。在我之前，一堆漂浮在水上的垃圾和杂草曾试图登上梯阶，未果，便转而挤进了一个角落。我发现，那里的路灯杆实为大炮，那些建筑装饰实为炮弹。就这样，我来到了“那个厂子”跟前。巨大的折叠门就像一只硕大的专利保险箱［5］，又紧又牢地把它关在了里面。我被这些大门吞下，送入了“厂子”的消化道。乍一看，“厂子”里非常整洁，似乎已经放假，待到战事再起才会重新开工。尽管它貌似十分平静，但就在其整洁的仓库外面，滚落着一些用来制绳的大麻纤维。那可并不像是干草散落在了白净的石头上。

“叮！”“咣”“咚！”“砰！”“轰！”“嘎吱！”“咣！”“砰！”“叮当！”“砰！”“咚！”“砰！”“咔哒！”“砰砰砰！”这究竟是怎么回事？！原来是（或曰很快就成为了）装甲舰阿基琉斯。在船身上有一千二百个人正在忙碌：他们有的站在船舷外的鹰架上，有的在船头上，有的在船尾上，有的在龙骨下，有的在甲板中间，有的在船舱里；里里外外都是人。在船身最狭窄的曲折处，只要足以转动身体，他们就爬进去。一千二百名锻工、测量员、捻缝工、军械士、铁匠、金属工、木匠，一千二百名弄出“叮！”“咣！”“咚！”“嘎吱！”“叮当！”“咔哒！”“砰砰砰！”声响的人！建造中的阿基琉斯战舰周身发出震耳欲聋的声响。然而，在那可怕的一天到来时，竣工后的阿基琉斯战舰将整个投入使用，并发出惊天动地的巨响。与之相比，此时此刻的这一切喧嚣不过是一声序曲，根本不值一提。正在安装中的甲板排水孔此时就像是干燥的导管，而当那可怕的一天到来时，它们将红浆飞泻。这些被烟雾和火焰笼罩的模糊身影正在甲板间躬身忙碌，而比起未来那天被另一种烟雾和火焰笼罩着在甲板间忙碌的身影，却根本不值一提。战舰边的这些蒸汽发动机能让它来回移动，能推动数吨的钢板滑行，宛如推动着许多树叶那样轻快。而到了那一天，如果它们待在舰边，片刻之间就会被撕成碎片。想想铁箱、木柜组成的阿基琉斯战舰这个庞然大物在水上航行的情景吧！想想有什么狂风巨浪能摧毁它？！想想由里而外穿透船侧钢板、随处可见的炽热红点吧！我此时就看到，这儿有一个、那儿一个、还有那儿！侧板外面的高台上站着两个人，他们赤裸臂膀，手拿大锤，一看到红点就照之猛砸，直砸至红点变黑变平。这时，我发现一只铆钉已经牢牢钉实。每一块钢板上都有许多这种铆钉，整条船上的铆钉成千上万。想想我站在船上欣赏其全貌有多困难吧！船上耸立着成群的大铁罐和橡木柜，因此，这条战舰内部，时刻都有什么在结束，也时刻都有什么在开始。即使它的一半被毁坏了，另一半也足够使用、完好无损。然后，我沿船侧折返，下到软泥中，到船坞那潮湿的底部，从那撑托着战舰的止滑木和支柱组成的地下丛林深处，仰视那庞大无边的船体向高处的光亮突展出去，而向我所在的底部则越来越窄。这样地爬下攀上非常费劲，让人觉得这根本不可能是一艘船，而恍然以为是某个古代圆形露天剧场（如维罗纳［6］的那座）中建起的一座巍峨大厦，几乎装满了整个剧场！然而，如果没有旁边那些工坊，没有那些机械动力，这一切事物都会是什么呢？！那些机械动力能刺穿4.5英寸厚的钢板为铆钉打洞，按照战舰设计图用液压力将钢板修整成上宽下窄的形状，并用猛禽鸟喙状的刀子将钢板多余的部分削去，完全达到了设计图上那极端精细的要求。这些力大无穷的机器由一张面庞所关注，由一只手所操纵。在我看来，它们有着与“那个厂子”一样的谦恭品德。“听话的巨兽，按照这些等距排列的粉笔记号，把这块铁从头咬到尾。每个记号都要咬透。”巨兽看着眼前的材料，扬起笨重的脑袋，答道：“我并不想这么做。但是，如果必须做的话——！”坚硬的金属扭动着出来了，巨兽那嘎吱嘎吱响着的牙齿把它咬得滚烫。工作完成！“尽职的巨兽，看一下这块铁。你要沿着上面标出的这条越来越细的任意曲线，将它的边角削去。来，看看吧。”（沉浸在幻想中的）巨兽低下笨重的脑袋，像约翰逊博士［7］那般，贴近了去看那条标记线——贴得非常近，因为它有点近视眼。“我并不想这么做。但是，如果必须做的话——！”巨兽再次贴近看了看，瞄准。一条弯曲的铁板翻卷而出，就像一条火烫的紧紧盘扭着的蛇，滚落在灰烬当中。铆钉的制作就像是有趣的纸牌游戏，玩家是一个成人和一个小孩。他们将又红又烫的麦芽糖［8］浇进一个教皇琼牌戏圆形筹码盒［9］里，立刻就有铆钉从机器窗口落了出来。但那些庞大机器奏出跟这个大船厂乃至这个伟大国家同样的调子：“我们并不想这么做。但是，如果必须做的话——！”

战舰旁边放着一些锚，与战舰相比，显得非常小。它们是用来装在舰上的。像阿基琉斯战舰这么一个庞然大物怎能被这么小的锚固定住呢？这种航海技艺太神秘了，我要向那位博学的男孩求教。就我而言，我倒是联想到了将大象拴在帐篷桩上，或将动物园里的大河马拴在我的衬衫别针上的情景。在那边的河里，一条旧船的残骸旁边，躺着阿基琉斯战舰的两根中空的桅杆。我发现，光这两条桅杆的体积就已非常可观了，战舰的其他器具也同样庞大。我不禁疑心，为什么独独它的锚那么小？

对于这一点，我没有时间多做考虑。我要去看那些生产英国海军全部军用船桨的工场。我觉得工场的厂房非常高大，工作也非常漫长！那厂房很快就让我大失所望，因为工作都是在一间阁楼里完成的。而那漫长的工作——这是什么？两台大轧布机？一大群蝴蝶在它们上空盘旋？轧布机里有什么东西能够吸引蝴蝶呢？

走近些后，我看清楚了，那不是轧布机，而是两台复杂的机器。机器上装着各种刀、锯和平刨。它们把这里切得又平又直，把那里割得一溜斜歪；一会儿锯出一个深槽，一会儿又分毫不锯。这一切动作都是根据机器下放置的木材，按照预定的要求进行的。每根木材都要制成船桨，并早在它们离开遥远的森林故乡、起航来英格兰之前，就已经为此目的进行了初步加工。我也看清了那些“蝴蝶”其实并非蝴蝶，而是刨花木屑。它们受了机器强力的刺激，从木材上跳起来，并在机器旋转造成的气流冲击下，迅速而不规则地运动着，盘旋起舞、上下翻飞，情状恰似人想象中飞舞的蝴蝶。忽地，机器的噪声和动作戛然而止，“蝴蝶”纷纷坠地而亡。从我进来至此刻，一只船桨已经做好，只差手柄还未成形。我目光所及，心思乍动，那支桨就已经被送到了一台车床上。只一转、一刻！手柄已成。船桨已成。

整套机械那精湛之美和效率之高本无须解说，但今天恰逢一次突出展示。因特殊用途，需制造一副非常规型号的船桨，而且必须手工制作。就在这台精湛、灵巧的机器旁，在地上那个迅速增大的船桨堆旁，一个人用斧头造出了这对特制船桨。他旁边没有“蝴蝶”飞舞，他只是从容不迫地凿一凿、刻一刻，仿佛是个异教徒，正在为他的人生终点准备船桨，且要将这对桨作为礼物带给卡戎［10］，让他用在渡船上。就这样，那汉子（大约三十岁）勤奋地执行着任务。他擦拭额头的汗水时，就让机器制造标准桨。制桨的木材在机器上旋转着，切削下来的薄薄的宽木带随着分秒流逝，很快就集了一大堆。那使斧头的汉子还没做完一上午的工作，就可能已被那一大堆刨花埋住了。

看过这一奇妙景象之后，我又回到了船舰旁边，因为这个“厂子”最吸引我的就是船舰制造。我注意到，船台上晾着些半成品木墙板。它们将木与铁的价值比较问题悬置起来，带着傲慢自负的神情等待时机。在这些卓越的木墙板的旁边，有标签标出了它们的名字及其在枪炮制造中的功用——要是这种做法能推广应用到人类身上，将非常有助于人们在社交场合放松自在、心满意足。在一块下垂曲线优美却不太坚固的厚木板的帮助下，我大胆地登上了一艘（钉着铁螺钉的）运输船。这条船刚从承造商的厂子开进来，准备接受检查、获得认可。这艘船非常令人满意：布局简洁合理，十分便于军用；照明、通风、清洁设施完备；还周密地考虑到了妇孺之需。我在观览过程中，突然冒出一个念头：我愿意花一大笔钱，在船厂钟声敲响午夜时上船来，独自待到早晨。因为我相信，肯定会有一大群顽固刻板的老军官来到船上，悲伤地挥舞他们那纯洁的肩章，痛惜时代的变迁。然而，看过了这些当代造船厂中那惊人的运作方式与操作方法，我们便能更加透彻地懂得，在没有这些造船厂的时代，那些驾船出海、进行海战、控制海权的先人是多么可敬！意识到这一点后，我见到一条废船残骸时情绪极高。那条旧船的船身暗淡无光，打满了补丁，铜件上布满了绿锈。我对它脱帽致敬。一个脸上毛茸茸的年轻技师军官恰巧从此经过，他看到了我敬的礼，并窃为己有。我肯定，他由衷地欢迎我的敬礼。

被那些蒸汽动力圆锯、垂直锯、水平锯和各种动作古怪的锯（在想象中）切成碎片之后，我进入了这次考察的闲逛阶段，进而到达了我这一非商业性活动的核心环节。

我在“那个厂子”里到处漫步时，到处都能见到它那安静、谦恭品质的迹象。它那些红砖垒成的办公室和房屋显得非常庄重，毫不夸耀，有着一副“所做工作不值一提”的沉着外表。在英格兰之外，我从未见过这般迹象。除了偶然的几下回声，人行道的白色铺路石上没有丝毫迹象透露阿基琉斯战舰及其一千二百名敲击者（他们可都是在真砸实干）的存在。倘若不是空中传来几声微弱的回响，让人联想到锯末和刨花，你会觉得造桨作业和运转着的锯都在数英里之外。在这儿底下，有一个巨大的水库，木材浸泡在不同温度的液体中。这是干燥处理工艺的步骤之一。水库上面是一条支柱撑起的矿道，矿道上有一辆中国法师魔法车。木材浸泡完成后，这辆车就将它们吊起来，然后平稳地运到预定地点进行堆放。我小时候（那时我已经很熟悉这个造船厂了［11］）常常想，我很愿意扮作中国法师，并因而由一个仁慈的国家授予我那辆魔法车。如今，我仍然觉得，我很乐意试试在那魔法车里写书会有何效果。坐在魔法车里就彻底地与世隔绝了，而且在木材堆中滑来滑去会是一种很方便的国外旅行方式——从北美洲的丛林、洪都拉斯［12］那积水的沼泽、深郁的松林，到挪威的冰霜、热带的高温、雨季和雷雨狂风，全都经历一遍。在船厂竭力规避夸耀、以免显山露水的整体氛围中，这些珍贵的木材被堆置于幽僻之处，尽可能地毫不起眼，不对任何人召唤：“来看看我吧！”然而，这些木材是从全世界的树木里精选出来的，长度要选、宽度要选、直度要选、弯度要选，每一项都是依照造船之需挑出来的。那里还散落着许多歪七扭八、形状古怪的木材，可在造船工匠眼里，它们都非常宝贵。我漫步走过这些木丛，来到中间的一片空地上。工匠们正在那里检查一批刚刚运到的木材。在河流和风车的背景映衬下，这是一幅多么安恬的画面！哪里像是战争期间？就如同当今的美利坚诸国，哪里像是一个联邦？

我漫步走过制绳处，被旋织进入一种祥和的懒散之中。我的生命之索仿佛在此旋转过程中被拆解散开，让我回望到了很早很早的从前，望到了我的场场噩梦都是一种无休无止的编绳过程——那些恐怖的梦境缘何而起？甚至到我成年之后都仍然解释不清。那些极细极长的丝线搓编成股，这些股又在我的眼前紧紧编织在一起，令我尖声惊叫。随后，我穿过许多储存着帆、帆桅、缆索、船载小艇等物件的宁静仓库。我坚定地认为，有某个腰带上挂着一大串钥匙、被压弯了腰的人物掌管着它们，他像蓝胡子［13］那样，在需要某样物件时，就找出一把钥匙来，打开某个仓库的门。那些长长的库房似乎漠然无知，就让电池组来发送命令吧，那一扇扇百叶窗、一扇扇门将在瞬间大开，冲出一支全副武装的舰队，蒸汽腾腾、风帆满满，铺满古老的梅德韦河面，驶向大海，舰上所载值得观瞻。快活的斯图亚特［14］让荷兰人沿梅德韦河攻入，而他那些不那么快活的水手却饿死在大街上。就这样，我又逛回到了梅德韦河，正在涨潮的河水露出一副急切万分的神情，要冲进那个一千二百名敲砸者正在其中服侍阿基琉斯战舰的干船坞，不俟他们完成工作就连船带人一起掠走。

直至最后，“那厂子”仍然一脸宁静。我经过一小片树林回到了大门口。那片树林遮蔽了一处最奇特的荷兰人登陆点。一名造船工匠那落叶点缀的影子消失在小树林的远端，那可能就是俄国人彼得［15］本人的影子呢。于是，这个巨型专利保险柜的大门终于在我身后关上了，我又上了小船。看着船桨在水中出没，不知为何，我想起了牛皮大王毕斯托尔和他的同伙［16］，想起了“那个厂子”里那些安静的巨兽，以及它们说的“我们并不想这么做。但是，如果必须做的话——！”嘎吱。

（牛云平　译）

［1］　梅德韦河是泰晤士河的最后一条大支流，几乎全部位于肯特郡内。——译者注

［2］　诺尔是位于泰晤士河口内的一个沙洲的名称，泰晤士河在此注入北海。诺尔沙洲是通往伦敦港航道上的一处天险，因此，1732年这里出现了世上第一艘灯船，警示出入伦敦港的船只。——译者注

［3］　皮托（全名Samuel Morton Peto，1809—1889）是19世纪英国企业家和土木工程师。他的公司建造了伦敦市内的许多重要建筑和纪念碑，他还签了许多合同，承建当时正迅速扩张的铁路线路。——译者注

［4］　布拉塞（全名Thomas Brassey，1805—1870）是19世纪英国土木工程承包商、建材生产商。在19世纪，全世界的，特别是欧洲、澳洲、南北美洲和印度的大部分铁路都是由他承建的。不仅如此，他还建造了与那些铁路相关的码头、桥梁、高架桥、车站、隧道、给排水系统等设施。除铁路工程外，他还积极参与发展轮船、矿业、火车厂、越洋电报等事业。——译者注

［5］　19世纪初，技术与经济的发展给欧洲人带来了大量财富，保险柜行业应运而生。英国、美国、法国等国的发明家兼商人陆续研发了具有防火、防盗等功能的保险柜，并获得了各种专利。例如，后来成为保险柜行业巨头的英国发明家Charles Chubb和JeremiahChubb兄弟，他们发明的防盗保险柜于1835年获得了专利权。——译者注

［6］　维罗纳是意大利古城，处于多条贸易通道的交会处，为欧洲重要城市。以其雄伟的圆形露天竞技场／剧场驰名。这里的圆形剧场建成于西元30年，规模仅次于罗马斗兽场和加普亚圆形剧场，至今保存完好，为世界现存的第三大圆形剧场。剧场长139米，宽110米，有44级大理石梯阶，能容纳2.5万多名观众。这里每年夏季都举行歌剧演出，是莎士比亚剧作中罗密欧和朱丽叶的故乡，为著名旅（接上页）游景点，2000年被联合国教科文组织列入世界遗产目录。——译者注

［7］　即塞缪尔·约翰逊（Samuel Johnson，1709—1784），著名英国作家、诗人、文学批评家、编辑和词典学家，他独力纂成的《英语大辞典》（A Dictionary of the English Language）于1755年出版，为他赢得了卓著声誉。他从小就视力不好，左眼尤差。随着年龄的增长，他的视力每况愈下，但他从不使用眼镜。他逝世后葬于威斯敏斯特大教堂。——译者注

［8］　即熔化的铁水。——译者注

［9］　教皇琼游戏是十八世纪维多利亚时期流行于英国的家庭纸牌游戏。该游戏在传统纸牌上配有一个圆形木盒，从圆心处向外放射状分隔出8个面积相同的扇区，形成8个容量相同的格子，供玩家盛放筹码。也有的圆盒将圆心处开辟为一个盛放整副扑克的圆格。此外，也有用金属制作的筹码盒。——译者注

［10］　希腊神话中在冥河上摆渡亡魂去往阴间的神。——译者注

［11］　原文创作于19世纪60年代初期，英国正试图控制东亚，美国正值内战（1861—1865）期间。因父亲工作所需，作者狄更斯5岁时（1817年）随父搬家到查塔姆的皇家海军会计处（Royal Navy PayOffice）工作，在此地生活了7年。——译者注

［12］　中美洲北部国家，玛雅文化所在地。该国北临加勒比海，南濒太平洋，热带气候，全境以山地和高原为主，森林、水利资源都很丰富，森林覆盖率达70%，盛产木料、金属矿。——译者注

［13］　蓝胡子是法国民间传说中的人物。据说，他是个极其富有的贵族，但长着令人恐惧的蓝色胡须。在他的前几任妻子莫名其妙地失踪后，当地再也没人敢把女孩嫁给他。有一天，他到一位邻居家做客，并请求娶她两个女儿中的一个为妻。两个女儿听说后吓坏了，互相推诿，谁都不肯嫁给他。但最终他说服那个小女儿同意了这门亲事，住进了他的城堡。婚后不久，蓝胡子声称要出门一段时间，就把家里所有的钥匙交给了新婚妻子，说她可以任意使用这些钥匙，打开任何房间的门，取用里面的财富。此外，他还交给她一把城堡底下一间小屋的钥匙，并叮嘱说，无论如何都不能开那个小屋的门。妻子答应后，他就走了。可是这位妻子忍不住强烈的好奇心，在举办一次家庭宴会期间，偷偷进了那个小屋，发现了那里隐藏的可怕秘密：地板上满是血迹，蓝胡子前几任妻子的尸体赫然挂在墙上。她吓坏了，手中的钥匙一下掉进了血泊之中。她逃离了这间小屋，但钥匙上的血污却怎么都洗刷不掉。她把这个惊天秘密告诉了姐姐，姐妹俩决定逃跑。但第二天早上蓝胡子突然回来了。他发现了钥匙上的血污，知道妻子背叛了誓言，一怒之下，要当场杀死她。妻子请求先做祈祷再赴死，蓝胡子答应了。于是姐妹俩把自己锁进了城堡顶上的房间，等待她们的两个兄弟前来营救。蓝胡子撞开门，正要对她们痛下杀手，两兄弟赶到，杀掉了蓝胡子，救出了两姐妹。蓝胡子无嗣，妻子就继承了他的全部家产，她将其中一部分分给姐姐作嫁妆，一部分分给了两兄弟，其余部分用作她自己的嫁妆，嫁给了一位可敬的绅士，开始了幸福的新生活。——译者注

［14］　“快活的斯图亚特”指英格兰、苏格兰及爱尔兰王查理二世（CharlesII，1630—1685），他属于斯图亚特家族，因其放荡的个人生活和享乐主义的朝廷体制，被称为“快活王”（Merry Monarch）。1664—1667年，英国与荷兰进行了第二次英荷战争，1666年9月10日，伦敦发生大火，城市焚毁，英国经济遭受重创，荷兰舰队趁机于1667年6月在泰晤士河口发动了“突袭梅德韦”行动（Raid on the Medway），歼灭了驻泊泰晤士河的英国舰队，破坏了船厂。1667年7月，英国被迫签订《布雷达合约》。——译者注

［15］　指俄国沙皇彼得大帝（1672—1725）。1697年至1698年间，彼得大帝化名到西欧旅行，考察和学习西欧发达的科技、文化，其中包括荷兰和英国的先进造船术。他天资颖悟、勤奋好学、手艺纯熟，深受师傅的赞誉，在荷英两国的造船厂亲自动手，建造过运行良好的战舰。——译者注

［16］　毕斯托尔（Pistol）是莎士比亚名剧《亨利五世》中的角色，亨利五世的随从，极擅吹牛，但实则胆小如鼠。他的同伙有惯于虚张声势的巴道夫和寡言少语的尼姆，二人同样是懦夫加小偷。——译者注

沃平［1］救济院

我那天无所事事，就去了伦敦东区［2］。我从考文特花园出发，朝都市的那个区域走去。经过东印度公司大楼时，我无意间想起了蒂普苏丹［3］和查尔斯·兰姆［4］。随后，我经过了那个小小的木刻海军少尉［5］，亲热地拍了拍这位老熟人穿着及膝短裤的一条腿。随后，我经过了阿尔盖德水泵［6］，经过了撒拉逊人头像［7］（而且可耻地在他那黑黝黝的脸上贴了好几张广告单来丑化他），逛进了他的老邻居黑（或灰）牛（或狗）［8］那空荡荡的庭院，不知这动物于何时辞世，也不知那些车舆流散到了何处。随后，我从那里出来，重新踏进铁路时代。随后，我经过了白礼堂教堂［9］，走进了商业路［10］——这对一个非商务旅客［11］而言很不适宜。我欢快地踩着那条大街上的遍地烂泥，尽情地观赏着制糖商的大片房屋、穷街陋巷两侧狭小后院里的小小桅杆和风向标、毗邻大街的运河与码头、沿着石路轰隆隆前进着的东印度公司大篷货车、手头拮据的大副们典当了那么多六分仪和象限仪的当铺。我真想便宜地买它几个，可惜这些仪器我丝毫都不会用。最终，我拐出商业路，开始向右前进，朝沃平走去。

我打算到沃平老阶梯［12］去坐船，去那里转转，原因并不是我相信（因为我并不相信）那个年轻女子坚贞如一。她用那些美丽的陈辞滥调，告诉她那航海的情人：自从送给他那个标着他名字的烟盒之后，她对他一如既往。我觉得，恐怕他从这种约定中得到的通常是最坏的结果，而且彻底上了当。我要去沃平，是因为一位东区的违警罪法庭推事在晨报上说，在沃平妇女救济院的妇女都是一类货色，救济院本身的存在就是一桩丑闻和耻辱；他还讲了其他许多难听的话。我去那里，是因为我想看看事实到底如何。要知道，那些东区违警罪法庭推事并不都是伦敦东区最睿智的人，他们或许是在调查该地区圣乔治教堂［13］的奇装异服和怪模怪样时推出上述论断的。这种调查通常是在毫不混乱的思想状态下进行的。他们向有关各方和无关各方详询所涉事由；其最终的解决对策就是：咨询原告，问他觉得应该怎样处置被告，然后听取被告本人对自己的处理建议。

在离沃平尚远时，我主动迷了路，以一种土耳其人式的心情，弃身于褊街狭巷之中，任宿命以某种方式指引我到达预想的地点，倘若这在冥冥之中已然注定。大约一个小时之后，我终止了这命运的指引，决定费神看一看路，发现自己正置身于一架平旋桥上，桥下的脏水里有几绺深色的头发。在我上方对面，站着一个人，依稀像个小伙子。他毛发蓬松、脸色蜡黄，身上又脏又亮又粘，也许是他那肮脏的老父亲——泰晤士河的小儿子，或者就是那个淹死者本人。我和他中间隔着一根花岗石柱，柱子上贴着那死者的讣告，就像戴着一枚大顶针。

我就向这个幽灵打听，此地叫什么名字？他阴森森地龇牙作笑，喉间似乎发出了汩汩的水声：

“贝克先生的陷阱。”

在此类情境下，我向来十分警惕，要听得懂话里的机锋。我一边在心里琢磨此话的含义，一边密切注视着他——他抱着那几绺头发上方的一根铁横梁舔吮起来。我脑中灵光一闪，意识到贝克先生就是该地区的现任验尸官。

“人们都来这儿寻短见。”我说，同时将目光投向那几绺头发。

“简？”那幽灵讶然盯了我一眼，答道，“没错！还有波莉。也有埃米莉。还有南希。还有苏。”他每说一个名字就舔一下那根铁梁。“还有无素（数）银（人）。英（扔）掉帽子或头经（巾），跑几步，在这头槽（朝）下，她们就这么了。总系（是）在这头槽（朝）下，她们都系（是）。好像一点不。”

“你是说，在半夜一点左右？”

“哈！”那幽灵说，“她们可不挑系（时）候。两点也行。三点。一晚上。你只好好听！”说到这儿，那幽灵把身形靠在铁横梁上，讥讽地咯咯笑了。“可系（是），得有银（人）来。要系（是）没警擦（察），没啥男银（人），能听到扑通一僧（声），她们就不在这头槽（朝）下。”

根据我对这番话的理解，我本人就算个男人，或曰各色人群中的一员。我用普通人的谦恭语气问道：

“常常有人把她们捞出来，对吧？而且治好了她们？”

“我可没听学（说）气（治）好，”幽灵说。不知为何，他对这个词非常反感。“她们被送进求（救）济院，放进乐（热）浴缸，就醒了。我可没听学（说）气（治）好。”他说，“那系（是）胡学（说）！”话音刚落，他就不见了。

他显然已有不逊之意，而我也巴不得清静独处，尤其是他乱蓬蓬的脑袋那么一扭，表明“求济院”已经近在咫尺。于是，我离开了贝克先生那可怕的陷阱（其中放的诱饵就是一层浮渣，很像是清洗过乌黑烟囱的滑腻废水），鼓足勇气拉响了救济院的门铃。在这里，我是个完全陌生的不速之客。

来开门的是一位欢快机敏、身形小巧、手拿一串钥匙的女总管。她答应了我的来访请求。我注意到她那敏捷活泼的小小身材和聪慧的眼睛之后，开始怀疑那个违警罪法庭推事所言是否属实。

（女总管暗示）访客应该先看最差的地方。欢迎观看这里的一切。凡目所见，即为一切。

这是唯一的准备工作，我们随后就进入了“丑陋的病房”。这些病房位于一座老房子里，这座老房子被挤在一个石铺庭院的一角，与救济院那更现代更敞亮的主体部分保持着相当距离。病房所在的老房子极端落伍——就是几间粗制滥造、条件简陋的讨厌阁楼而已，唯一的通道就是几段又陡又窄、极其难走的楼梯，要将病人抬上楼或将死人运下楼可得费尽老劲。

在这些悲惨的房间里，这边的床架上，那边的地板上（我的理解是，她们是为了换个姿势），躺满了被各种程度的痛苦和疾病折磨着的妇女。她们的服色、姿态和状况都一致无二。只有那些专心观察过这种场面的人才能讲出这千篇一律外表下隐藏着的万般神情。这个人形微微蜷着，侧着身子，似乎已永远舍弃了这个世界；那个漠然不动的脸孔同时呈现出铅色和黄色，从枕头上消极地望着上空；那张枯槁的嘴巴有点下垂，那只露在被单外的手那么迟钝、冷淡，那么轻，又那么重；每张简陋的床上都是如此。可当我在一张床边驻足，对躺在上面的人说了一句那么简单的话之后，她本有的灵魂就浮到了脸上，令这间“丑陋的病房”变得与外面的完好世界一般多姿多彩。这里的人们似乎都不乐意活下去，可谁也不发牢骚。所有能够说话的人都说：这里已经为她们做了所能做的一切；院方的照料慷慨而耐心；她们苦难深重，但并无所求；这些恶劣的病房是同类用房里最干净、最美好的了，如果管得不好，不到一周就会成为传染病院。

我跟随那位脚步轻快的女总管上了另一段惨无人道的楼梯，来到一个略好些的阁楼间，这是给白痴和低能儿住的。这里至少有采光，而前一类病房的窗户就象中小学生的鸟笼的侧面。这儿的炉火上罩着一个结实的格栅，将炉前地面隔开了，两边坐着两位老女士，似乎正在举行某种仪式。她们虚弱地保持着庄严的姿态，那显然是出于仅存的一点自傲。自傲是我们这奇妙人性的一部分。很明显，她们彼此嫉妒，把全部时间（有些人也是如此，但他们的火焰没有被遮拦）都用于在内心诋毁对方和轻蔑地观看周围人等。在这对谑仿乡下贵妇的女士中，有一位极其健谈，而且表达了想参加礼拜日仪式的强烈愿望。她描述说，若能获得这一殊荣，她将会从中得到最大的乐趣和慰藉。她讲得非常精彩，浑身洋溢着愉悦、友好之情，我不由得开始思考，那位东区违警罪法庭推事应该重新调查此案例。不过，我后来得知，她上一次参加礼拜时偷偷带着一根小棍子，在轮流应答过程中突然拿出棍来痛打会众，制造了一起混乱。

就这样，这两位老太太整日隔栅而坐——否则，她们就会扑向对方的帽子——相互猜忌着，凝视着一个不断发病的世界：除了女舍监，屋里的所有人都会犯病。女舍监是一个上了年纪的穷女人，身体健全，上唇巨大，抱着两臂站在那里，似乎在压抑和节省自己的力气。她两眼缓缓转动着，在伺机抓住谁或控制谁。这位民间要人（我很遗憾地认出，她属于我可敬的朋友甘普太太［14］那一类型，只是块头小些）说：“她们常常分（犯）病，心（先）生。她们常常无因（缘）无故就摔倒了，好像拉车的马从月亮上掉下来似的，心（先）生。而且有一个倒了，另一个也跟着倒，有时候一下摔倒四五个。哎呦呦！又是打滚又是撕扯，老听（天）！——这个您（年）轻妇女，在这边，病得很厉害。”

她一边说，一边把那个妇女的脸转了过来。那妇女坐在地上，在那些饱受折磨的病人面前沉思着。她的脸上、脑中都没有招人厌恶的东西。周围的那许多各种癫痫和癔病患者看上去病情更重，但舍监却说她是最严重的。我对她说了几句话之后，她仍然仰脸坐着，沉思着。一束正午的阳光照进来，落在她身上。

——这个年轻妇女以及其他这些遭受着剧烈痛苦的妇女，当她们或坐或躺，茫然而迟钝地沉思时，是否在那阳光下的尘埃里，有一刹那想到了健康的人们、健康的事物？这个在夏季如此冥想着的年轻妇女，是否想到在某个地方有树木和花草，甚至有高山和大海？不说那么远的了，这个年轻妇女是否曾模糊地想到那个年轻妇女——那个不在此地、也永远不会来此地的年轻妇女，她被人追求、爱抚与热爱，有丈夫、生儿育女、生活在自己的家里，永远不会懂得遭到这种打骂和撕扯是什么滋味？上帝保佑，这个年轻妇女那时会不会自暴自弃、摔倒在地，就像一匹拉车的马儿从月亮上掉落？

在如此无望的地方，传来了婴儿的咿呀声。那些声音合成了一种声响，我分不清它令我愉悦还是疼痛。这声响是在提醒，这个疲倦的世界并非疲倦透顶，而是在不断地自我更新。就在不久之前，这名年轻妇女还是一个儿童；在不久之后，一个儿童有可能成为她这个样子。然而，那位机警的女总管活跃的脚步和眼神引领我经过了那两位乡下贵妇（婴孩们的声音扰乱了她们的高贵姿态），进入了隔壁的儿童室。

这里有许多婴孩和好几位漂亮的年轻母亲，也有丑陋的年轻母亲、愠怒的年轻母亲、冷淡的年轻母亲。不过，那些婴儿并没有任何难看的表情，他们柔软的脸庞非常可爱，有可能像是皇太子和长公主呢。我很欣幸地委托糕饼师的丈夫为我做了一件颇富诗意的事：以最高效率为我和一个红头发的贫儿做块蛋糕并投进烤箱。吃过蛋糕之后，我感觉好多了。要是没有这块点心，我真不知道自己的状态是否适合去看“那些犟人”。接下来，那位敏捷、小巧的女总管要带我去探访的就是她们。她竟在这个岗位上适应自如！此时此刻，我已对她充满由衷的敬佩。她引领我一路走去。

“犟人们”正在一个窗户开向院子的小房间里捡麻絮。她们背对窗户，排成一排坐在长凳上，面前是一张桌子，桌上放着她们的活计。年龄最大的“犟人”约有二十岁，最小的约有十六岁。在这类非商务旅行中，我至今也没弄明白，倔犟的习惯为何会影响人的扁桃体和悬雍垂。不过，我历来都注意到，凡是“犟人”，不管男女，无论阶层——从贫民儿童学校的贫儿到中央刑事法院［15］的法官——嗓音都一样，他们的扁桃体和悬雍垂都有着病态的优势。

“五磅！俺可捡不了五磅！”“犟人首领”说，一边用脑袋和下巴给自己打着拍子。“比俺们现在捡的多多啦！就彻冲（这种）地方、彻冲（这种）条件！”

（这是在承认，她们得到了微妙的暗示：工作量很可能要增加。毫无疑问，她们的工作量并不大，因为当时还不到两点，可一名“犟人”已经完成了当天的任务，正闲坐在那堆麻絮后面。她的头跟那堆麻絮一模一样。）

“总管，蛰（这）冤（院）子很飘（漂）亮，湿（是）不？”二号“犟人”说，“腰湿（要是）乃（哪）个姑娘说拘（句）啥，警察揪（就）来了。”

“然后你就无缘无故地净（进）了监狱！”首领说，同时猛扯麻絮，好像那是女总管的头发。“可哪嗬（儿）都比彻嗬（这儿）强；那样的话，就谢天谢地啦！”

麻絮头抱着两臂，领着“犟人们”大笑起来。她不主动发起什么，但却是那群未参与这场舌战的散兵游勇的指挥官。

“如果哪儿都比这儿强，”我那位机敏的向导极其镇静地说，“你本来有个好地方可呆，却离开了那儿，这很遗憾。”

“哦，从（总）管，哪里？俺没在好地方待过。”“首领”回答说，又扯了一下麻絮，表情丰富地看了一眼对手的额头。“可别那么说，那都是胡说！”

麻絮头又带着散兵游勇上来了，笑了几声，撤了。

“俺没间（见）过，”“犟人二号”喊道，“俺在一个低（地）方呆了死（四）年——俺不想栽（在）不湿（适）合俺的低（地）方呆——哼！不栽（在）不值得尊京（敬）的人家待——哼！俺发先（现）乃（那）家人表免（面）衣滔（一套）杯的（背地）衣滔（一套），酸湿（算是）有星（幸）还湿（是）没星（幸）——哼！腰湿（要是）我没边淮（变坏）没毁了，栽（在）很答（大）程都商（度上），乃（那）可不湿（是）他们的挫（错）——哈！”

她说这番话期间，麻絮头再次带领她的散兵放了几下冷枪，撤退了。

非商务旅行者大着胆子说，他估计“犟人首领”和“犟人一号”就是被送到违警罪法庭推事那儿去的两名妇女？

“对！”首领说，“就是俺们！奇怪的是，警察现菜（在）还没来，俺们就说起来了。彻嗬（这儿）没警察就不能昌（张）嘴。”

“犟人二号”（悬雍垂大幅振动着）笑了起来，那些散兵群起效仿。

“要是谁能把俺弄到哪个地方或扯（者）到国外，”首领斜视着旅行者声明道，“俺肯定会感激不尽。彻（这）个好透了的救济院让俺恶心，俺受够了，是的，俺有理由彻（这）么说。”

二号也是如此，也受够了。麻絮头也是如此，也受够了。散兵们也是如此，也受够了。

非商务旅行者冒昧地提示说，他觉得，若两位“犟人”领袖的自我描述准确真实，听了她们的这番表白，那些想找谦恭可靠的年轻佣人的淑女或绅士，哪个都不大可能乐意聘用她们二位中的任何一位。

“那待在彻嗬（这儿）啥都不是，又有啥好处？”首领说。

旅行者认为，也许值得一试。

“没用，啥好处都没有。”首领说。

“一丁点儿好出（处）都没有。”二号说。

“要是谁能把俺弄到哪个地方或扯（者）到国外，俺肯定会感激不尽。”首领道。

“俺也湿（是）。”二号道，“保争（证）感激不金（尽），俺灰（会）的。”

于是麻絮头站了起来，宣布了一个彻头彻尾的新主意，并说，她知道其新奇程度非同凡响，一说出来绝对会令毫无心理准备的在座诸位大惊失色：要是谁能把她弄到哪个地方或者到国外，她肯定感激不尽。然后，就像她随之指挥道“女士们，一起唱！”似的，所有的散兵都开始说起同样的话来。我和女总管随即离开了她们，开始在许多只因年老体弱而入院的妇女当中穿行。可是，在此穿行过程中，不论何时，只要我朝任一扇俯瞰庭院的窗口望下去，都会看到麻絮头以及其他所有“犟人”正在隔着她们那扇低处的窗户搜寻我。每次我刚一露头，她们马上就会看到我，从不失手。

十分钟之后，我再也不相信金色的青春时光、强盛的中年时期、矍铄的老年时段等等神话。十分钟之后，所有的女性之光似乎都已被风吹灭；关于女性，天穹之下再无任何物事可资夸耀，唯余几粒微弱闪烁、行将死灭的灯花。

有一点非常特别：救济院里这些暗淡的老妇人们遵循着一种颇为通行的待客仪式。凡是知道有客来访而且并未卧床休息的老妇人，都会蹒跚到一个长凳跟前，坐到她常坐的位子上，加入到一排暗淡老妇人的队伍中，与一张狭长桌子对面的那排暗淡老妇人隔桌相望。并没有人规定她们必须如此排列，这乃是她们的“待客”之道。她们通常并不主动彼此交谈，也不看访客，什么都不看，只是沉默地坐在那里蠕动着嘴巴，就像一群乏味的老母牛。有些房间里，我能高兴地看到几株绿色植物；在别的房间里，有一位作为护士的、单独的“犟人”正忙碌着。跟别的“犟人”分开之后，她在这个岗位上干得很好。这些病房，无论是活动室、卧室，还是活动室兼卧室，都被精细地打扫得又干净又明亮。我同大多数类似的旅行者一样，见过很多这类场所，但还从未见过哪一家救济院这般整洁明亮。

那些卧床不起的病人极富耐心、极端依赖枕头下的书籍，也极其信仰上帝。她们都很在意相互之间的和谐，却没人在乎有无希望康复。总而言之，应当说，患有许多病症、病得比别人都严重在这里被视为一项殊荣。从一些窗子望出去，能看到泰晤士河生机勃勃地奔流不息，阳光明朗。可我没看到一个人向窗外眺望。

在一个大病房里，在火炉旁的两张特别的扶手椅上，坐着两位九旬开外的老妇人，宛似那群老妇的正副统领。其中那位年纪较小的刚过九十，耳朵聋了，但聋得并不厉害，能设法听到别人讲话。她年轻时曾养育过一个小孩，那个孩子如今也已经成了一个老妇人，比她还要虚弱，也住在这间房子里。女总管跟她说到这一点时，她完全理解总管的意思，脑袋和食指以各种姿势动作了一番，指出了她那个曾经的小孩。扶手椅上那位年纪较大的老妇人面前放着一张有插图的报纸（她却并没有读）。她已经九十三岁了，目明耳聪，身体健康，而且惊人地健谈。她的丈夫不久前刚去世，她本人住进来还不到一年。这位可怜人本可在马萨诸塞州的波士顿市得到特别待遇，在自己的房间里得到照料，并渐渐过上舒适的户外生活。在英格兰，一位在救济院外艰难地度过了九十多年的妇女，能在多大程度上过上类似的生活呢？不列颠经过无数乱局之后，顺应天意，崛起于蔚蓝大海之中，其守护天使何曾在那备受称颂的《大宪章》［16］中明确禁止这一点？

那位动作敏捷的女总管再无物事可示，我此行的目标也已达到。与她在大门口握手告别时，我告诉她：我认为正义女神未能很好地运用她，而那些东区的智者也并非绝对正确。

我踏上了归途，边走边与自己就那些“丑陋的病房”展开了辩论。它们不应该存在。在现场看过之后，没有哪个正派、仁慈的人会质疑这一点。可是这个联合教区该怎么办呢？对那些病房进行必要的改造会花费几千英镑的资金，而该联合教区已经在资助三个救济院了。为了存活下去，这些教区的居民们努力工作；他们需缴纳的扶贫济困税金已经达到了合理承受度的上限。该救济组织中的一个贫困教区每人要缴纳五先令六便士［17］。与此同时，富裕的汉诺威广场圣乔治教区［18］每人却只需缴纳约七便士，帕丁顿教区［19］每人只需缴纳约四便士，威斯敏斯特市圣詹姆斯教区每人只需缴纳约十便士！唯有通过均摊济贫税，才能解决现有方法未能解决的问题。我这些记录一次非商务旅行的文字篇幅有限，无法展现更多有待解决或者解决得不好的问题。然而，那些东区智者们必须先看看北区、南区和西区的情况，而后才能合情合理地对此发表长篇大论；他们应该每天早晨先到圣殿区［20］一带的商店和住宅转转，先自问“这些穷人还能承受多大压力？——他们中的许多人艰苦度日，免于落入救济院”，而后才能坐到所罗门的宝座［21］之上。

在归途中，我还沉思着一件事。因为我最终离开“贝克先生的陷阱”那一带之前，曾敲开了东区圣乔治教堂救济院的大门，发现那是一个能给该地区带来高度荣誉的机构，由一位非常睿智的院长管理得井井有条。在那里，我注意到，顽固的自负和愚蠢能带来多大的间接损害。“我刚刚看到的老年男女贫民就是在这间大厅里聚合来参加礼拜仪式的，对吧？”——“是的。”——“他们有没有在乐器的伴奏下唱赞美诗呢？”——“他们很想那样，他们极有兴趣这么做。”——“一件乐器也弄不到吗？”——“是这样，本来可以免费得到一架钢琴。可是这些令人遗憾的纷争［22］——”啊！身穿漂亮长袍的基督教朋友，你当时若不理睬那些唱歌的人，让会众自己唱，这样做会更好，而且好得多！你应当比我更清楚这一点。但我觉得我曾读到过，从前他们就是这样做的；读到过，“他们唱了一支赞歌之后”，（并没有穿漂亮长袍的）某人上了橄榄山［23］。

一想到这件恼人的琐事，我就心痛不已。我在这个城市的街道上一路走着，每一块石头似乎都在对我呼喊：“老兄，转过来！看看该做些什么？”于是我诱使自己变换了思绪，让心里好过些。可是，我真的做到了吗？我至今都想不起来。我的脑中满是潦倒的穷人，乃至于思绪的变化终究只是从一千个贫民变成了一个贫民。

“先生，打扰一下。”他说。那是在另一个场合，这个贫民把我拉到一边，神秘地说：“我可过过好日子。”

“听你这样说，我觉得真遗憾。”

“先生，我要投诉院长。”

“明确说吧，在这里，我毫无权力。即便我有的话——”

“但是，先生，请允许我说说这事。就是一个曾过过好日子的人对您讲几句话而已。先生，院长和我都是共济会会员［24］。我不停地给他打手势，可因为我处境不幸，他却不肯给我口令！”

（牛云平　译）

［1］　沃平（Wapping）位于伦敦金融城东部，南临泰晤士河。1986年，传媒大王默多克将其新闻总部从英国报业中心河湾街（Fleet Street）搬至此区。——译者注

［2］　伦敦东区（East End）位于伦敦金融城城墙以东，泰晤士河以北，为港口区。19世纪晚期，伦敦地区人口数量激增，这里成为拥挤不堪的贫民和移民区，导致“伦敦东区”逐渐成为一个贬义词。此后的一个多世纪，“伦敦东区”成为贫困、拥挤、疾病和犯罪的代名词。如今，这里的人文环境已经有所改观，但某些区域仍然是全英国最贫困的地区。——译者注

［3］　蒂普苏丹（Tippoo Sahib，或Tipu Sahib，1749—1799）是印度南部迈索尔王朝的统治者。英国入侵前，他是全印度最强大的国王，曾对英国在南部印度的利益构成了最大威胁。他在位期间曾同英国殖民者（特别是东印度公司）展开了长期英勇战争，但终被英国殖民者和几个邻邦国王联手打败和杀害，一度繁荣强盛的迈索尔王国随之落入了英国人之手。——译者注

［4］　查尔斯·兰姆（Charles Lamb，1775—1834），英国散文家，生于英国伦敦，一生平凡而不幸。兰姆家境贫寒，1796年，他的姐姐因劳累过度而出现了精神病，杀死了母亲。从此，他为照顾姐姐，使她免于流落到疯人院而终生未娶。1792—1825年，他在东印度公司任职，工作之余，他创作过诗歌、莎剧论文、故事、随笔等，文风富有个性、亦庄亦谐。他的代表作有《莎士比亚故事集》（1807）、《伊利亚随笔》（1823）、《伊利亚续笔》（1833）等。——译者注

［5］　木刻海军少尉是位于利登豪街（Leadenhall Street）的所罗门·吉尔斯仪表店的标记之一。木雕不大，站在店门口的墙壁上，穿着海军制服，双手捧着一只很大的六分仪。——译者注

［6］　阿尔盖德水泵（Aldgate Pump）是伦敦金融城内一个历史悠久的水泵，位于阿尔盖德大街（Aldgate High Street）、芬丘奇街（Fenchurch Street）、利登豪街交会处。该水泵原本抽取地下水源，作为公共饮水设施使用。水泵上有个狼头形状的水嘴，据说是为了纪念在伦敦金融城内射杀最后一只狼而造。——译者注

［7］　“撒拉逊人”一词源自阿拉伯文sharqiyyin（“东方人”）一词，拉丁文则写作Saracen。古罗马人本来用该词指称生活在罗马帝国阿拉伯行省（包括今约旦、西奈半岛和沙特阿拉伯西北部）沙漠一带的非阿拉伯游牧民。到中世纪时，该词词义扩大，陆续将阿拉伯人也包括在内，到11世纪末期，该词已经成了“穆斯林”的同义词。撒拉逊人头像（Saracen's Head）在英国曾是惯用的旅馆标志。——译者注

［8］　在英国，许多旅店、酒店都有几百年的历史。许多旅店位于罗马道路两边，多为马车旅店。它们的早期顾客大都不识字，所以店家设计出了各种各样的图像符号做标志，让顾客记住自己，创建口碑。这种做法蔚成传统，沿用至今。撒拉逊人头像就是一例。以牛、鸡、狗、猪、马、虎、狐狸、狼、狮子等家畜和野生动物加上某种（些）颜色为标志的办法也很流行。——译者注

［9］　白礼堂教堂（Whitechapel Church）位于伦敦东区，初建于14世纪早期，原是一个为远离教区的基督教徒们设立的小礼拜堂。后经数次重建和毁坏，终于1952年被彻底拆除，其原址现为一个公园。这里的白礼堂大街和白礼堂路原本是在从伦敦金融城出城向东通往科尔切斯特（Colchester）的古罗马人通道，道路两侧马车旅店林立。以此小礼拜堂和罗马人通道为基础发展起来的白礼堂区长期以来都是伦敦最具代表性的贫民区，人口肤色不一、成分复杂，环境脏乱、治安极差。19世纪80年代，这里曾发生了恶名昭著的连环谋杀悬案，神秘的凶手被称为“开膛手杰克”，但至今没有破案。——译者注

［10］　伦敦东区的一条路，为东印度公司在19世纪早期所建，西连伦敦金融城，东接金丝雀码头（Canary Wharf），长约3.2公里。——译者注

［11］　非商务旅客（the Uncommercial Traveller）是狄更斯杜撰的人物。1859年他自办了一份刊物《一年四季》（All the Year Round），并于1860年1—10月在该刊上发表了17篇、一个称作“非商务旅客”的文章系列。在其后的10年时间里，狄更斯陆续借用此角色续写了多篇文章，所有这些文章在他死后，于1875年以《非商务旅客》为名结集出版。在狄更斯笔下，此“非商务旅客”酷爱旅行，不仅去欧洲大陆和美洲，而且喜欢在伦敦本地游逛。他不仅观光，而且对其发现进行研究和报道。借此患有失眠症的虚构人物之口，狄更斯揭示了维多利亚时代伦敦的种种黑暗面。——译者注

［12］　沃平老阶梯位于沃平大街（Wappping High Street）南侧，是沃平地区通往泰晤士河岸线的阶梯之一，仅在退潮时露出，青苔遍布，泰晤士河在此涨潮落潮，能带来一些诸如古老陶片之类的浮货。这里曾经是水产交易市场，肯特郡的渔夫们带着从拉姆斯盖特捕获的水产到这里来卖。这里也曾是绞死海盗船长基德（Captain Kidd）的地方。——译者注

［13］　东区圣乔治教堂（St. George-in-the-East）建于1714—1729年间，1729年投入使用，其周边地区称为圣乔治教区。1855年教区委员会成为该教区的地方政府，1927年撤销。教区委员会于每年复活节由本地的纳税人选举产生，教区委员会负责每年推选本堂区的俗人委员，掌管本教区的世俗事务。这些俗人委员可能会与教堂及教区牧师（rector）意见相左。1859年5月—1860年7月，圣乔治教堂爆发了这样的冲突，称为“仪式暴乱”（RitualismRiot）。1842年，布莱恩·金（Bryan King，1811—1895）被任命为圣乔治教区牧师，他到任时，发现该教区委员会推选的俗人委员是不顺从国教者和非国教教徒，从此展开了一场长期的斗争。他决定改变原来简陋、单调的礼拜仪式，以吸引更多信众：给圣坛披上祭服，放上点燃的蜡烛；让唱诗班穿上长袍哼唱圣歌和应答祷文；牧师穿白色法衣而不是黑色长袍讲道，等等。1857年，有人送给金几件白绿相间的丝质无袖长袍，在分送圣餐时穿用。他起初非常犹豫，但后来开始穿用。这些服饰虽是现在通行的做法，但在当时，在十九世纪中期，那些成分复杂、生活贫困的东区会众对此带有中产阶级调子的“时髦”行为深恶痛绝，双方冲突不断升级，最后发展成为会众暴乱：连续数月，一到周日，成千上万的会众就带着狗涌入该教堂，抽烟、放火、乱扔帽子、起哄，在牧师布道时大声诘问、奚落牧师，在唱诗班唱圣歌时高唱《统治吧，大不列颠》和《上帝保佑女王》等别的歌曲。教堂外也同时发生着类似的暴乱，导致牧师不得不靠警察护送才能从边门回到住宅。金牧师请求从政府得到更有效的保护，但教区委员会的活动促使英国议会上下两院都漠视了他的请求。最后受到起诉的不是暴乱者，反倒是牧师一派。——译者注

［14］　甘普太太是狄更斯于1843—1844年间发表的小说《马丁·瞿述伟》中的一名护工。她从月嫂到装殡工，什么都干，可她放纵、贪杯，从来不放过任何享受主家好处的机会，而且习惯性地带着一把黑色的破伞。她的形象深入人心，维多利亚时代的人们甚至用“甘普”一词来指称伞。——译者注

［15］　英格兰和威尔士中央刑事法院位于伦敦市中心的老贝利街，其原形为16世纪的伦敦金融城市长和郡长会议厅，毗邻新门监狱，为理查德·威廷顿爵士所捐赠。到1834年为止，该法院已受理过10万多起刑事案件，包括所有死刑案件。后经数次毁坏和重建，1834年更名为中央刑事法院，建筑实体及其运转由伦敦金融城政府出资维护。中央刑事法院为全国性法院，负责受理较重大的刑事案件，庭审对公众开放。可在此开庭的法官有高等法院法官、巡回法院法官和刑事法院兼职法官。该法院的最高常任法官被称为伦敦市首席法官（Recorder of London），其副手被称为伦敦市司法行政官（Common Serjeant of London），地位很高。高等法院的一些重要法官是显赫的终身贵族。——译者注

［16］　《大宪章》于1215年由英国贵族与英国国王初次订立，以约束王权、保障贵族的政治权利，从此开创了宪法政治，影响远播。其中明确保护了寡妇的财产权。——译者注

［17］　在旧时英国货币单位中，1镑=20先令；1先令=12便士。五先令六便士合六十六便士。——译者注

［18］　汉诺威广场圣乔治教堂（St George's，Hanover Square）是1711年规定建造的五十座安妮女王诸教堂之一，位于伦敦金融城西侧的威斯敏斯特市内梅菲尔区（Mayfair）。教堂所处为上流社会地区，于是成为名门望族常用的婚礼举行地。1886年12月2日，后来成为美国总统的西奥多·罗斯福就在此结婚。——译者注

［19］　帕丁顿教区也位于威斯敏斯特市内。——译者注

［20］　圣殿区（the Temple）是圣殿教堂所在的教区，主体部分在伦敦金融城内，西部的一小部分在威斯敏斯特市内，南临泰晤士河，西临萨里街（Surrey Street），北临河岸大道（Strand）和河湾街（Fleet Street），东临圣衣会街（Carmelite Street）和白衣修士街（Whitefriars Street）。该教区为本市乃至全国著名的法律中心。——译者注

［21］　据基督教《圣经》记载，所罗门是联合王国的第三任国王、大卫王之子，是智慧、神通、财富、荣耀、权威、美德的象征，流传下来三千句箴言和一千零五首诗歌。他的宝座是用象牙所制，外包精金，有六层台阶，有金脚凳与之相连。每层台阶都有两头石雕狮子站立，宝座两旁有扶手，扶手附近也各有一头石雕狮子。所罗门的宝座高踞一切之上，象征他有着高高在上的威权，他坐在其上进行审判。——译者注

［22］　参见前文“东区圣乔治教堂”条注释。——译者注

［23］　此处的“某人”指耶稣。这是《马太福音》（26：30）和《马可福音》（14：26）中记载的典故：耶稣及其十二门徒吃过最后的晚餐，唱了赞美诗，往橄榄山去。在一个叫客西马尼的地方，耶稣去远处祈祷时，门徒们都疲惫地睡着了，他去了三次、回来三次，可门徒们谁都没有醒来。等他第三次回来后不久，叛徒犹大就带人来把他抓走了。——译者注

［24］　共济会（Freemasonry），字面意思是自由石匠工会，是一个带宗教色彩的秘密兄弟会组织，在世界各地有不同的存在形式，宣扬博爱、慈善、美德，思索人类生存的意义。共济会起源不明，但据信最初为中世纪时石匠们自发形成的组织，其基本徽章是由石匠常用工具——圆规（在上）和直角尺（在下）组成的图案，有的徽章图案上在圆规和直角尺之间还有一个字母G，代表共济会的法典。有记载表明，现代共济会出现于18世纪早期的英国伦敦，是一个由白人贵族、高级神职人员、上层资产阶级等社会精英人物组成的封闭社团组织，并于1730年代传播到了北美殖民地。英王乔治三世、乔治四世、乔治六世、爱德华七世、爱德华八世都是共济会会员；另外，如孟德斯鸠、牛顿、莫扎特、贝多芬、歌德、乔治·华盛顿、托马斯·杰斐逊、本杰明·富兰克林、富兰克林·罗斯福、亨利·福特、托马斯·爱迪生、马克·吐温、爱因斯坦、温斯顿·丘吉尔等许多欧美政要和科学文化界名人也都是共济会会员。后来，共济会放弃专走上层路线的做法，开始吸收普通公民入会，在世界各地现有600多万会员；其活动也越来越公开化，除了内部表明各级别的暗语及手势仍旧保密之外，其余活动基本上全部公开。——译者注

东方的小星

昨夜，一直在翻看著名的木刻集《死亡之舞》［1］；今日，又想起画集中那些冷冰冰的古老的木刻画，心中竟生出一种阴森恐怖且乏味无聊的感觉。与此同时，在我的前方，正走着一个瘦如骷髅的人物，手里拄着的棍子不断敲击地面，发出刺耳的“嘎”“嘎”声。不过，这个“骷髅”不是在画中，他/她没有任何煞费苦心的装扮——他/她没有弹着洋琴，没有戴着花冠，没有拿着羽毛，没有穿着长袍，没有跟着队列，没有举着酒杯，没有吃着美食，没有玩着骰子，更没有数着金钱。我眼前的这个“骷髅”衣不蔽体，食不果腹，正挣扎着向前挪动脚步，像是在跳一曲坚韧不屈的死亡之舞。

这一幕发生在11月的一个雨天，地点是伦敦东部莱特克里夫与斯特普尼两个小村庄接界的地方，混浊的泰晤士河从这里缓缓流过。河两边肮脏的街道和陋巷纵横交错，如迷宫一般；破破烂烂的房子大都隔成单间，专门出租。这里荒凉偏僻，到处都是腌臜的污泥、褴褛的衣衫和辘辘的饥肠。住在这儿的人大都没有工作，即使个别人有幸得到一份工作，也不会长久，失业犹如家常便饭。毕竟，无论从哪个方面来说，他们都算不上是熟练技工。他们是最最普通的靠体力吃饭的人——码头搬运工、滨水区小工、煤炭装卸工、道渣抬运工等，都是些做苦工的人。但不管怎样，这一群可怜的人儿还是活着，并且不断地繁衍着。

且看我眼前的这个“骷髅”，他/她好像正在跟谁开一个荒唐至极的玩笑。他/她把好几份早已被风雨撕扯得支离破碎的议会选举提案贴在很多面墙上，还用粉笔把候选人的得票情况写在一座破败不堪的房子的窗户遮板上。“骷髅”恳请拥有自由独立之身的穷人们要珍视当前的党政制度和国家的繁荣富足（看来两者对他们来说都非常重要），选举议员时不要只投一个政党代表的票；一党执政容易滋生腐败，若同时选举两党的代表为议员，则有助于建设一个永远兴旺昌盛的国家。想必天底下再没有比“骷髅”的这种修士想法更具讽刺性的了！

我不由开始琢磨此候选人和彼候选人以及人民群众的“赐福者”——此政党和彼政党所承诺的那些深谋远虑的规划。他们承诺，将会遏止成千上万英国人（谁知道到底有多少人？）在道德上的沦丧和体质上的衰退；将会为想工作想活下去的社区居民提供有效就业；将会均衡税率、开垦荒地、为想移居外地的人们提供帮助；最重要的是，他们承诺将会救助并重用未来的新人，以便使整个国家从日渐衰败走向步步强大。心里思索着这些看似充满希望的规划，我拐进了一条狭窄的街道，想去看看那儿的人家的生活。

这条街道的一侧是一堵残墙，显得光线非常昏暗。几乎每座房子的大门都敞开着。我走进其中的一座，敲了敲起居室的门，问道：“可以进来吗？”“想进就进来吧，先生。”

屋里的女主人（看起来是来自北爱尔兰地区）刚拿起一些长条木柴——大概是从废旧的码头设施或船只上拆下来的——塞进了原本空洞洞的炉子里，炉子上架着两口正等待烧开的铁锅，分别盛着一些鱼和一些土豆。木柴燃起来了，借着这火光我看到了屋里简陋的陈设：一张桌子，一把坏掉的椅子，还有几件廉价的破旧陶器摆放在壁炉台上。和女主人又说了好几分钟的话之后，我才看到屋角的地板上还有一堆极其难看的棕色物件。若不是以前见过，我可能真的无法相信这会是“床”。床上乱糟糟地蜷缩着个什么东西，我问女主人：“那是什么？”

“那是个小可怜儿，先生。她病得很厉害，已经很长时间了，一点儿也不见好。她总是白天睡不醒，晚上又睡不着。都是因为铅，先生。”

“因为什么？”

“因为铅，先生，肯定是因为在铅厂上工。女的在那儿上工，一天可以赚18便士；但是得特别早去申请，而且还得够幸运，人家想要你你才有机会去。她是铅中毒了，先生。有的人刚上班不久就铅中毒了，有的过一段时间才会中毒，还有的，不过是少数，一直都不会有事儿。这全在人的体质，先生，有的人体质好，有的人体质弱。她的体质就属于那种容易铅中毒的，而且一中毒还就特别严重，先生；她的脑子都不中用了，总是头痛的厉害。天天就这样，不见好，倒也不见坏，先生。”

正说着，病中的年轻姑娘痛苦地呻吟起来。女主人俯下身，取下裹在姑娘头上的布带；接着，又推开后门，让阳光透进来，好晒晒这条用以减轻头痛的布带。从敞开的后门，我看到了这家人的后院，那是我所见过的最狭小最贫困的后院。

“铅中毒后，她就成了这样，白天黑夜地头痛，先生。这可怜的孩子，头痛把她害惨啦。上帝知道，我丈夫是个干体力活的人；四天了，他天天去街上转，现在肯定也正在街上转呢；他想找点活儿干，可就是找不到；家里没有柴火，没有吃的——除了锅里的那点儿，什么吃的也没有了；救济金又少，两个星期才不到十个先令。上帝保佑啊！我们这儿又黑又冷，穷得没法儿过啦！”

我本应该给他们一些钱，但我早就决定这次探访过程中不给予任何人任何物质上的帮助；因为我想做个试验：看看如果不给钱，这些穷苦的人会有什么样的反应。如果他们真的像我想象的那样淳朴善良，到时候再给也不晚。经过仔仔细细的观察，我敢肯定这家人一丁点儿都没有奢望我给他们钱。能有个人听他们说一说自己的痛苦他们已经很感激了；同情就是给他们的最大的安慰。他们绝不会伸手跟人乞讨，更不会因为我没给钱而感到一丝的惊讶、失望或憎恨。

女主人已成家的女儿从楼上的屋里走下来，加入了我们的谈话。她当天清晨去铅厂找工作了，但没能成功。她有四个孩子；她的丈夫也是码头搬运工，当时正在外面四处找活干，但估计跟她的父亲一样也不会找到。这个已婚女儿大概生长在英格兰，天生丰满漂亮，活泼开朗。她和她的母亲一样，虽然穿的衣服很破旧，但看得出来，她们都很尽力把自己收拾得干净整洁。她了解那些不幸的铅中毒病人的所有痛苦，了解铅中毒的方方面面，包括铅中毒的症状及病情的发展情况——这一切对她来说都太熟悉了。她说，一走进铅厂的门，那股气味就足以把人熏倒，但她还是想再去那儿应聘；除此之外，还能有什么办法呢？如果能长期在那儿上班，每天挣18便士，就算有一天铅中毒了、不能动了，也比现在看着孩子们挨饿强啊。

再次环顾这个小屋，又看到屋角那个黑糊糊脏兮兮的用作床的橱柜。它几乎顶住了后门，看起来非常不协调。有段时间，一直是那个生病的年轻姑娘一个人夜里睡在那儿，白天躺在那儿。现在，天冷了，可毯子啊，被子啊，又都当到非法经营的当铺里去了，再当回来是不能了。为了取暖，到晚上的时候，女主人、她的丈夫、还有另外两个孩子只能和那个生病的可怜姑娘一起挤着睡在这个棕色的物件上。

尽管一分钱也没给他们，可这个穷苦的人家依然对我心存感激。临走时，他们满含着真诚的谢意跟我道别：“上帝保佑您，先生。谢谢您来看我们。”

走过几条街道，我又叩响了另一座房子里一间起居室的门。开门往里看时，只见一个男人、她的妻子、还有四个孩子正围坐在一个脸盆凳旁吃晚饭，那脸盆凳便是这家人的餐桌，晚饭也只有面包和一些喝完茶后剩下的茶叶。他们的身旁是一个壁炉，炉膛里的碳渣发出微弱的火光；房间里有一个带顶棚的床架，上面架着一张床，床上只有一条被子；房间的前后两面墙上分别有一扇可以通风的窗户，但现在为了驱寒却都紧紧地关着；屋里有一股令人作呕的气味。男主人在我进来时没有站起身；我们聊天时，他也一直都坐在那儿。不过，我进屋摘下帽子时，他倒是很有礼貌地冲我点了点头；说到能否问他一两个问题时，他也很爽快地答应了。

男主人的妻子一看就是个聪敏的女人，反应很快，见来了人儿，立刻起身站在丈夫的身旁。丈夫抬头求助般地呆望着妻子。事情很快就搞清楚了，原来丈夫的耳朵有点儿聋，尽管才三十岁左右，头脑反应已经很慢很迟钝了。

“他是干哪行儿的呀？”

“先生问你是干哪行儿的，约翰？”

“我是造锅炉的。”男人一边回答，一边万分茫然地打量着自己的四周，好像在寻找一个莫名其妙就消失不见了的锅炉。

“他不是技工，您知道的，先生，”妻子补充道，“他只是个干体力活儿的。”

“还上着班呢吗？”

丈夫又抬头看妻子，向她求助。“先生问你还上着班呢吗，约翰？”

“上班！”眼前这个苦闷的锅炉制造工突然大喊起来，像受到了惊吓一般瞪大眼睛看着妻子。接着，又慢慢地把目光转向我，说道：“没班上。”

“哎，确实没班上！”可怜的妻子摇头说道，目光依次投向四个孩子，最后又落在丈夫身上。

“上班！”锅炉制造工看看我，看看空中，又看看坐在自己膝前的二儿子，好像还在寻找那个消失不见了的锅炉。“真希望能上班啊！三个星期了，一天班都没上过。”

“那你们靠什么生活啊？”

听这样一问，这位曾经的锅炉制造工脸上隐约露出了一抹对妻子的钦佩之情。他一边伸出胳膊，让我看他那已经穿得露线了的外衣袖子，一边指着他的妻子，回答说：“靠我媳妇干活儿。”

我想不起造锅炉这样的工作都到哪儿去了，也想不起那位丈夫对这个问题所做过的猜想了。我只记着他当时的神态和表情都说明造锅炉的工作再也回不来了。

男主人的妻子很不简单，她开朗乐观，非常乐意帮丈夫来支撑这个家。她做的是廉价成衣的缝制工作，具体点说，是缝制双排扣男夹克。她把手头的一件衣服铺开在床上给我看——那床是这间房子里唯一能铺得下这件衣服的家具。她跟我解释自己已经缝了多少，还有多少需要机器最后来完成。按照她的计算，扣除针线等配料，每加工一件夹克能挣十个半便士；她一般情况下不到两天就能做完一件。

只是她没有办法直接从货主那里取货，货到她手上还得经过二道贩子，自然人家也不是白做的，还要从中扣钱。那为什么还非要经过二道贩子呢？为什么？是这样的：衣服拿走就有可能收不回来，这个风险由二道贩子来承担，他们取货时要交押金，比如说两英镑。她如果有足够的钱交押金，就可以直接从货主那里拿货，二道贩子也就不能再从中扣钱了。但实际情况是，她手里根本就没有钱，只能眼睁睁地看着二道贩子从中获利，自己的工钱因此缩水，只剩下十个半便士。她非常机敏地解释着这一切，没有丝毫哀叹，没有半句抱怨，那语气中甚至还带着些骄傲。解释完毕，她把衣服叠好，重新坐回丈夫身边，继续他们那顿只有干面包的晚餐。这家人的晚餐着实太简陋，没有餐桌，只能用脸盆凳代替；没有杯碗，只能用又脏又旧的瓶罐代替。这位妻子的穿着也很破旧，肤色也不好看，明显是缺乏营养，也需要好好梳洗打扮。尽管如此，她的身上却有着一种高贵的尊严，她是全家人的靠山，就像锚一样牢牢抓住丈夫这艘遇难的小船，使其得以安全靠岸。我起身要离开时，锅炉制造工的双眼再次慢慢转向他的妻子，似乎只有在妻子那儿才存有最后一线希望去找回那早已消失不见的锅炉。

这家人只申请过一次堂区［2］政府的救济金，那时丈夫受了工伤，实在无法工作。自那以后，他们就再也没有申请过。

往前走了没多远，我又来到位于一楼的一间屋里。女主人在我进门时满含歉意地连声说着“屋里太脏了，太乱了。”那天是星期六，女主人正在洗孩子们的衣服。她把一口锅架在炉子上烧着热水，而热水里泡着的正是孩子们的脏衣服。在这个家里，除了这口锅，再没有别的容器可以用来洗衣服了。在这个家里，没有陶盆、铁盆、木盆或木桶，只有一两个残旧的陶罐和破损的瓶子，还有几个当凳子用的破箱子。屋子的一个角落里堆着已用得所剩无几的一点儿煤屑，旁边是一个没有门的柜子，里面扔着几件破衣烂衫。屋子的另一个角落里放着一张老旧的摇摇晃晃的法国式铁架床，床上仰面躺着一个男人，身上穿着一件褴褛的双排扣夹克，头上戴着一顶运煤工人的粗油布帽子。屋子里到处都黑糊糊的，墙壁更是污浊一片，乍看上去，还以为是故意刷成了黑色呢。

女主人一边洗着衣服，一边说着抱歉的话。我站在她对面，注意到她连一块肥皂都没得用。我假装什么也没看见，故作随意地再次环顾这间小屋，又看到了几件刚进门时没能看到的东西：半磅面包孤零零地放在一个空荡荡的纱橱里；一件破旧的红色衬裙很随便地挂在门后的把手上；几块锈铁零零散散地扔在地上，看上去像是一段炉灶烟筒和一些已经用坏了的什么工具。一个大点儿的孩子站在那儿，正盯着这些废铁块儿在看。还有两个小点儿的孩子坐在紧挨着炉子的一个破箱子上，其中一个长得非常漂亮可爱，另一个时不时地探过头来亲他/她一下。

和刚刚在另外一家见到的那位妻子一样，这位女主人也是衣衫褴褛，面色萎黄，让人心生怜惜。然而，她姣好的身材，活泼的性格，还有脸颊上隐隐约约的笑靥，无不让我联想起多年以前在伦敦艾德菲剧院出演音乐剧《维多琳娜》的著名女星菲兹威廉夫人［3］。

“可以问一下你丈夫是做什么的吗？”

“他是运煤工人，先生”，女主人一边说着，一边扭头瞥了一眼躺在床上的丈夫，无奈地叹了口气。

“他失业了吗？”

“啊，是的，先生！他一直都很难，很难找到活儿干；现在，是彻底没活儿干了。”

“都是因为这双腿，”躺在床上的丈夫开口说道，“我要把裤腿卷起来让您看看。”说着便动手去卷裤腿。

“你们还有再大点儿的孩子吗？”

“还有一个女儿和一个儿子。女儿是做针线活儿的，现在正在上班；儿子就干些自己力所能及的活儿，现在正在外面找工作呢。”

“他们也住在这儿吗？”

“他们睡这儿。因为没有钱再去租房，他们晚上只能回这儿来住。房租对我们来说太贵了。现在，法律规定的房产税涨了，房租也跟着涨，一个星期六便士。我们已经拖了一个星期没交了。房东很生气，说要把我们赶出去；有时候就来踹门，把门晃得吱嘎乱响，怪吓人的。也不知道接下来会怎样。”

躺在床上的丈夫这时候插进来，凄苦地说道：“看我这双腿，肿得这么厉害，皮肤都有点儿涨破了。我还经常做举腿的动作呐。哎，不管怎么说，还算管点儿用吧。”

他低着头看了一会儿自己的那双腿（这双腿已经变得畸形了，腿上的皮肤也差不多已完全失去了光泽），忽然好像想起了这双腿在这个家里是不受欢迎的，于是赶紧把裤腿放了下来。那双腿就仿佛是一张早已过时的老地图或毫无价值的设计图一样，没有人愿意去查阅，去参考。这位丈夫无可奈何地躺回床上，拿帽子盖住脸，再也一动不动。

“你的大儿子和大女儿睡在那个衣柜上吗？”

“是的。”女主人回答说。

“和弟弟妹妹一起睡在那儿？”

“是的。我们得挤在一起取暖。我们的被子太少了。”

“除了纱橱里的那半块面包，你们还有别的吃的吗？”

“没有了。另一半我们在早上已经吃完了，就着白水。我不知道接下来会怎样。”

“接下来有可能会好一些吗？”

“要是我大儿子今天能挣到钱的话，他一定会拿回来的。那我们晚上就有吃的了；而且，说不定我们还能交点儿房租。要是没挣到，我不知道接下来会怎样。”

“情况很糟糕哦。”

“是的，先生。生活很难，很难。您要走啦！小心啊，台阶坏了！再见，先生！”

这些穷苦的人们得不到任何救济；但他们也不会去济贫院，因为他们对那儿充满了恐惧［4］。

在又一间出租屋里，我看到的是一位非常体面的妇女，还有五个孩子，其中最小的那个还不到一岁。这位妇女是本堂区医生的一个病人；为此，她的丈夫便在这家医院里干活儿。堂区间联合济贫院破天荒允许给她和她的家庭提供救济——每星期四个先令，外加五个面包。我想，当各位议员以及公众的“赐福者”——政党领导人最终达成协议，实现了均衡税率的承诺后，说不定她还可以多拿六个便士。到时候，她或许会合着这份“喜悦”，“欢欣”地跳上一曲“死亡之舞”吧。

此时此刻，我无法再继续探访下去了，我实在不忍再看到那些孩子们的眼神。我可以让自己硬着心肠去看大人们所遭受的痛苦，但当我看到那些孩子们时，我的心软了。他们是那么年幼，那么饥饿，神情却是那么严肃，那么宁静，我真的无法再看下去了。想到他们住在条件无比恶劣的巢穴里，忍受着病痛，濒临着死亡，我倒真希望他们可以毫无痛苦地离开人世。然而，他们不能，他们正在遭受着病痛和死神的折磨。一想到这些，我真的是心软了，再也不忍看下去了。

我沿着泰晤士河往前走，来到莱特克里夫村；又经由这里的一条岔路，回到了铁路边上。这时，我的眼睛被铁路对面的一块牌子吸引住了，那牌子上赫然刻着“东伦敦儿童医院”的字样。此时此刻，再没有什么能比看到这样几个字更能让我的内心感到安慰了。我横穿铁路，径直走进了这家医院。

这里看起来原本好像是个造船厂或者仓库。里面条件极端简陋，设备异常简朴。每层楼的地板上都有活板门，每个活板门上都吊着很多东西；陈旧的地板由于踩踏和推拉重物已变得坑坑洼洼；房间和梁柱的设计很是蹩脚；楼梯上下也不方便；因此要想顺顺畅畅地去每个病房看看就显得不那么容易。但是，这里通风很好，收拾得又干净，让人备感亲切和愉悦。医院里有三十七张病床，床上躺着的尽是些可爱无比的孩子，有的大一些，有的还不到一岁。由于饥饿，这些孩子们都面色苍白，形容消瘦。但是我看到，在这里，孩子们的痛苦得到了温柔的抚慰。这里的小病号们每个人都有一个顽皮可爱的昵称；照料他们的是一位十分温婉秀气的女士，她轻柔地帮孩子们撸起袖子，给我看他们那骨瘦如柴软弱无力的小胳膊。每次在她这样做的时候，孩子就会用自己那瘦弱无肉的小手亲热地抚弄她手指上戴着的一枚结婚戒指。

病床上一个刚刚几个月大的婴儿格外引人瞩目，他/她十分漂亮，犹如拉斐尔［5］画笔下的小天使。只是他/她小小的头颅上因为脑积水缠满了绷带，同时还患有严重的支气管炎。孩子时不时会不由自主地发出一声痛苦的呻吟；但这呻吟里没有焦躁不安，也没有抱怨不满。孩子双颊和下巴的线条柔美无瑕，仿佛浓缩了所有婴儿的美丽；那双又大又亮的眼睛更是可爱非凡。我站在他/她的床脚前，这双明亮的大眼睛便开始和我对望，眼神里充满了好奇与渴望——正是我们都熟悉的婴儿所特有的那种眼神。这双眼睛就那样执著地凝望着我，即使那小小的身躯因为痛苦的呻吟而颤动时，孩子的视线都没有从我眼睛上移开。孩子仿佛是在恳求我，要我把收容他/她、照料他/她的这家小医院的故事讲给我能遇到的每个善良的人听。我伸出自己历经沧桑的大手握住那只贴着下巴紧握着的未经世事的小手，心中暗暗承诺，我一定会把这个故事讲给我能遇到的每个善良的人听。

当年，是一对年轻夫妇——都是非常有修养的人——买下这栋楼，并把它改建成了现在这家令人称道的医院。这对夫妇从不张扬，只是静静地守在这里。事实上，他们便是这家医院的负责人兼医生。两个人无论是在内科还是外科方面都有着非常丰富的实践经验；丈夫曾经是伦敦一家大医院的外科住院医师；妻子曾经是医学专业的学生，她勤奋好学，通过了严格的考试，并在霍乱流行期间做过护士，负责照料一些穷困的病人。

凭着他们的资历，这对夫妇完全可以另谋高就。他们风华正茂，成就卓然，品位高雅，气质超群，与周围的邻居没有多少共同语言，与这里肮脏污浊的环境更是格格不入。然而，他们毅然选择了这里。他们的房间位于二楼，即使坐在餐桌前也能听到哪个孩子因为疼痛而哭喊。在这家简陋的小医院里，除了孩子们的病床，你还能看到钢琴、书籍、绘画工具以及其他一些只有文雅之士才可能拥有的宝贝。为了节省空间，这些宝贝都堆放在一处，只有哪一件被用到时，才会把它单独收拾出来，就像旅客排队上船一样，只能一个一个地来。医院的药剂师原本对这儿并不感兴趣，是这对夫妇的人格魅力以及他们所从事的这项事业本身的磁力把他吸引到了这里。药剂师住在餐厅内的一个小凹室里，他的洗漱用具只能放在餐具柜里。

他们很满足，因为他们把身边所有有用的东西都能充分地利用起来！他们很自豪，因为他们可以用自己的力量把楼内的空间分隔成一个个便利的小间，让白天的诊室摇身变成晚上的吸烟室；不仅如此，他们的候诊室里居然还放着一个朋友送的取暖炉呐！他们对医院周围的环境——如果能够摆脱掉楼后面那个令人不愉快的煤场的话——也很赞赏！他们还有一辆婴儿车，说也是一个朋友送的，非常有用。事实上，是我送的。楼梯下面有一个不大不小的角落正好作这辆婴儿车的车房。他们收集了很多很多的彩色图片——有的已经剪贴好，有的还没有——用以装饰病房。他们还有一只非常迷人的木刻小鸟，头上顶着漂亮得难以置信的羽冠，当你用手往上拨它的头时，小鸟就会忽地把头低下去。我去探访的那天上午，他们举行了一个小小的典礼，把这只小鸟立为医院的公共雕塑。医院里还有一只长相非常滑稽的杂种小狗，名字叫“卷毛儿”。“卷毛儿”经常在病床间穿梭着跑来跑去，小病号们对它都很熟悉。这只让孩子们精神振作的滑稽小狗是在医院门口发现的，当时它显然已经饿得不行了，医院里的人就把它带进来，给它吃的。自此，小狗便在这里安了家。不知哪个孩子，大概因为仰慕“卷毛儿”天资聪颖，给它脖子上戴了一个脖套，上面写着“不要以貌取‘狗’。”我看到这个不卑不亢的呼吁时，“卷毛儿”正站在一个男孩的枕头边上快活地摇着尾巴。

今年一月份刚开业时，人们都以为这家医院是专门有人出钱为他们筹建的；因此把医院提供的医疗服务视为自己应享受的权利，生气时还故意找碴儿抱怨。不过，他们很快就了解了事实真相，对医院的感激之情开始与日俱增。但依然不遵守医院的探视规则，那些母亲们想什么时候来看孩子就什么时候来，父亲们则星期天想什么时候来就什么时候来。这些父母们还有一个不合理的（不过在我看来也是可同情可理解的）做法：孩子病入膏肓时，他们通常要把孩子带离医院，回到自己那个条件恶劣的家里。有一次，一个男孩儿因为炎症严重而奄奄一息，父母便在一个雨夜把他从医院带回了家。这个男孩儿后来又被送回来了，并且经过一番艰难的治疗后居然痊愈了。不管怎样，现在这个男孩儿很快乐。我看到他时，他正在高高兴兴地享受自己的午餐。

食物不足和居住环境不卫生是这些孩子们生病的主要原因，因此治疗的主要方法就是补充营养，保持卫生和居室通风。对于已经出院的小病人，医院依然不忘照顾他们，经常邀请他们来吃饭；还有一些被饥饿折磨的孩子，尽管从来都不是这家医院的病人，也经常得到他们的邀请。这对儿医生夫妇不仅熟悉自己的病人及其家庭的状况，对周围很多邻居的性格特点和生活境遇也很了解，因为所有这些信息他们都有记录。这些穷苦的人们一步一步陷入越来越深的贫困境地时，通常会隐藏事实，甚至对这对儿医生夫妇也不肯透露，直到最后陷入绝境。

这家医院的护士都很年轻，年龄多在19岁到24岁之间。尽管医院的条件有限，但护士们仍然有一间属于她们自己的舒适的小饭厅，这在很多条件良好的医院里都办不到。不过，能让这群年轻的女孩儿们坚定地留在这里的真正原因是：她们喜欢这些孩子，同情这些孩子的不幸遭遇——这是多么美丽的事实啊！技术最好的那位护士就来自附近的社区，家庭境况和邻居们一样贫苦，她尤其知道这项工作是多么重要。她原本是一位技术不错的裁缝，在这家医院一年的收入还比不上做衣服几个月的收入。医院的那位女负责人觉得有义务跟她说明做裁缝比在这里做护士要更有前景。但当有一天跟她说起这事儿时，这位女护士坚定地说“不”，她说在哪儿也比不上在这儿让她觉得自己更有价值，更开心；她一定要和这些孩子们待在一起。于是，她真的留下来了。我继续往前移动脚步，这时看到一位护士正在帮一个男婴洗漱。这位护士长得很喜兴，很招人喜欢，我于是停下来去逗弄她正照料的那个男婴。小家伙长得普普通通，圆头圆脑；此时，正紧皱着眉头，用一双湿滑的小手抓着自己的鼻子，身子裹在一个小毯子里，双眼神情严肃地盯着我。突然，这位小绅士踢了一下小脚，对着我笑了。与此同时，护士那张美丽的脸庞上也漾起了欣慰的微笑。看到这样的笑容，我之前那颗疼痛的心有些释然了。

几年前，在巴黎曾上演过一部非常感人的戏剧，名字叫“孩子们的医生”。就在我要离开这家医院时，突然发现我们的这位男医生可不正是“孩子们的医生”吗？那随意系着的黑色领带，宽松的双排扣黑色大衣，忧郁的表情，飘逸的黑发，那睫毛，那胡须，不折不扣，完完全全正是那位巴黎艺术家在舞台上刻画的理想医生形象的化身。但据我所知，还没有哪位传奇作家有胆量来描绘一下在伦敦东部这家儿童医院安家的这对儿年轻夫妇的家庭和生活。

我离开莱特克里夫村，在斯特普尼火车站乘车来到了芬丘奇街总站。我相信，不管是谁，只要按照这条路原路返回的话，都必将看到我刚刚所经历过的这一切。

（丁振琴　译）

［1］　木刻集《死亡之舞》的作者是（小）霍尔拜因（Hans Holbein，the Younger，1497—1543），德国肖像画家和装饰艺术家，英王亨利八世御前画师。——译者注

［2］　堂区，即行政堂区，是英格兰乡村的基层行政单位。——译者注

［3］　菲兹威廉夫人，全名范妮·伊丽莎白·菲兹威廉（Fanny Elizabeth Fitzwilliam），是英国19世纪著名演员爱德华·菲兹威廉（Edward Fitzwilliam）的妻子，曾在伦敦艾德菲剧院出演约翰·巴克斯通（John Buckstone）的音乐剧《维多琳娜》（Victorine），扮演剧中人物伊利斯（Elise）；该剧作者约翰·巴克斯通和狄更斯是好朋友。——译者注

［4］　19世纪时，英国国内有近百万人失业，急需政府予以救济。但在自由资本主义发展的鼎盛时期，资产阶级藐视人权，认为贫困是由于“个人懒惰”所致，因而应由“个人负责”。1834年，英国政府制定的《济贫法》便是以这样的思想观念为指导的。这部法律规定，在各地建立济贫院，凡无生活来源、需要社会救济者必须进入济贫院。但是被救济者在济贫院内被迫从事繁重体力劳动，里面的生活条件又极为恶劣。实际上，济贫院不是在“救济穷人”，而是在“惩治穷人”，其最终目的是为了摆脱济贫税负担和为资本主义生产提供充足的劳动力来源。因此，穷人一般都很害怕进济贫院。——译者注

［5］　拉斐尔（1483-1520），意大利文艺复兴时期画家，建筑师，主要作品有梵蒂冈宫中的壁画《圣礼的辩论》和《雅典学派》，其他代表作有《西斯庭圣母》、《基督显圣容》等。——译者注

业余警察在巡逻

我有一个癖好，即便是毫无目的的漫步，也一定要有一个目的地。每次离开我在考文特花园［1］的临时住所前，我会给自己规定好，一旦出了门，中途就不能再改变路线，也不能半途而废，没到达目的地之前绝不能返回；这就像不能骗人，不能违背和别人的约定一样。这一天，我的目的地是莱姆豪斯［2］。按照事先和自己约定好的规则，我于中午时分，准时从家里出发了。

每次出来漫步，我都习惯把自己想象成是正在值班的高级警员，而漫步便是在“巡逻”了。遇到街上有流氓恶棍时，我会在心里想象如何抓住他们，并把他们赶出伦敦城。如果我真的能够抓住一个流氓恶棍，我一定会把他赶出去，并且告诉他别想再看到伦敦城。

正在“巡逻”时，我看到三个身形庞大、粗壮有力的绞刑师正走在回家的路上。我敢肯定，他们的家在特鲁里街的某个院子里，地方狭小转不开身；但他们住在那儿，就像我住在我的寓所一样，不会受到任何人的侵扰。看到他们，我心里突然生出了一个想法。我想象着自己作为一名警员，应该把这个想法恭恭敬敬地呈给新上任的首席司法行政长官——我完全相信他是一位可信赖的、能胜任的人民公仆。这时候，我不由想起：多少次，警察报告书里总是带有成见地给我胡乱扣帽子，我虽忍无可忍，却也只能把气咽到肚子里；多少次，警察告诉那值得尊敬的地方法官说某个犯人的同伙就住在某条街或某个院儿里，没有人敢从那儿走；那值得尊敬的地方法官一旦听说了那条街或那个院儿的恶名，便经常——比如说每隔两周——拿那条街或那个院儿当“教材”来教导大家。

现在，假设我们的首席司法行政长官给伦敦的各个警察分局发一则通知，要求他们立即将所有地区所有被吹嘘得那样可怕的街道或院落的名字全都报上来；假设我们的首席司法行政长官在通知中还有一条警告：“如果那样的地方真的存在，证明警察无能，要受到惩罚；如果那样的地方不存在，只是以讹传讹，证明警察懒惰，没去澄清事实，而是纵容这样的谣言，属于渎职行为，也要受到惩罚。”这样的通知发下去，结果会怎样呢？是谣言还是事实，只需用一点点常识去检验，答案便会清清楚楚。如果不厌其烦地告诉大家——直到大家都视其为平凡如旧闻如醋栗一样——像这样的历史上最为昂贵的警察制度在当前的伦敦，在拥有蒸汽技术、照相技术和电报技术的今天，依然存在，那我们和古老的斯图亚特王朝［3］还有什么区别？噢，如果各个政府部门都如此滞后的话，那么两年后我们可能退步到“大瘟疫”［4］时代，一百年后我们可能退步到“德鲁伊教徒”［5］的远古时代了！

我的那个想法原来会给社会带来如此大的损害。想到这儿，我不由自主的加快了脚步，结果不小心撞倒了一个骨瘦如柴的孩子。当时，这个可怜的孩子正一手提着破旧的裤子，一手抓着蓬乱的头发，赤着脚吧嗒吧嗒地在泥泞的石头路上跑。我停下脚步，把这个流着眼泪的小可怜儿扶起来，给了他一张钞票。立刻，我们被包围了。我估计差不多得有五十人，有男的也有女的。他们衣衫褴褛，饥肠辘辘，冷饿交加，浑身哆哆嗦嗦。他们先是讨钱，见我不给，就开始扭打着、翻滚着、吵闹着、尖叫着去抢那个孩子手里的钞票。他们像恶狼一样，凶狠地争抢着，那张钞票一会儿被这个抢去，一会儿又被那个夺走；很快，我便看不到那张钞票落到哪里去了。眼前尽是一片令人厌恶的混战场面，一片飘荡着的破衣烂衫，一片挥舞着的胳膊和腿，一片飞扬着的烂泥。至于那个刚刚被我撞倒的孩子，我在扶起他之后，就已经把他拉到了路边儿上。这一场钞票争夺战发生在围着板围和栅栏的一堆建筑物废墟上；确切点说，是在圣殿关石门［6］附近。

突然，从这群争抢者中出人意料地冒出了一名真正的警察，其他人立刻吓得四下逃散。这名警察东打一拳，西踢一脚，左抓一把，右挠一下，一个人也没抓住。见所有人都吓跑了，他这才摘下帽子，从里面抽出一块儿手帕，擦了擦脑门儿上的汗；之后，又把手帕塞进帽子，把帽子重新戴回头上。他那副样子，就好像是刚刚尽了一份重要的道义上的责任。的确如此，只是这一份责任他是为自己尽的——他抢得了那张别人不敢不放下的钞票。我看看他，再看看泥地上留下的那些杂乱的痕迹，不由想起了地质学家在悬崖壁上辨认出的那些古老久远的雨滴印儿和先人的脚印儿。我情不自禁地陷入了沉思：假设此时此刻这些带有杂乱痕迹的泥巴能够石化，假设这些石化了的泥巴能够在这里完好无损地久存一万年；那么一万年后，不借助历史的帮助，仅凭人类自己的智慧，我们的后人能否从这些痕迹中推断出下面这样惊人的结论：有一个国度，表面看来美丽优雅，可就在她的首都城市，却有一群挨饿受冻的孩子被她残酷地遗忘了；这个国度实力强大，并为此自豪无比，却从不曾动用自己的实力去抓住那些孩子，挽救那些孩子。

我来到了老贝利街［7］，沿着这条街往远处看，便是新门监狱［8］。我发现这座监狱看起来有点儿不协调。事实上，这一天似乎处处都弥漫着不协调的氛围。圣保罗大教堂［9］可谓是非常漂亮的建筑，可在我看来，还是有一点儿不协调。似乎教堂顶上的那个十字架太高，距离下方的那个金球太远了似的。

我转身向东走去，离开了土美菲路和老贝利街，离开了绞刑、游街鞭刑（把罪犯拖在马车后面，一边游街，一边用鞭子抽打）、火刑、柴把、监狱、颈手架、烙铁，也离开了祖先留下的那些美丽的建筑——可惜已被粗暴地拆毁了，幸好天上的星辰还依然如旧。我继续“巡逻”，发现了一个奇怪的现象：这一带的街区好像被一根无形的线隔成了很多块儿——这一块儿是银行和货币兑换行，那一块儿是航运公司和航海用具商店；这一块儿是几乎闻不到任何气味的杂货商店，那一块儿则是腥味浓烈的肉摊儿；不过最吃香的要数那些小针织品店，里面陈列的每一件商品都明码标价，就像已经被谁预定了或指定了要买似的。

在杭兹迪奇教堂［10］这儿，往东迈一步和往西迈一步，景象便截然不同。就像司各特［11］描述的卡农盖特街［12］一样，在那条街的尽头有一条不算宽的沟，欠债人只要迈过去，就算是进了荷里路德避难所［13］，即使法警就在眼前，也不用担心会被捕；但在沟的另一侧，就是另外一种情景了。在杭兹迪奇教堂这儿，往西迈一步，你可以看到货真价实的上着法国抛光漆的红木桌子或五斗橱，往东迈一步，你看到的则是像抹了一层护唇膏似的廉价的仿制品；往西迈一步，你可以看到规模很小但完全独立自足的面包店，往东迈一步，你看到的则是松松垮垮的只会跟人讨钱的懒汉。接下来，我的“巡逻路线”主要是围绕着白教堂［14］及其附近的炼糖厂一带。这里的建筑层层叠叠，很是宏伟壮观，像极了利物浦码头的大型仓库。离开这条路线后，我又向右边走去，经过左边那个死角转弯处时，突然看到一个幽灵般的身影，这个身影在伦敦的其他街道上也不陌生。

但不知为什么，经常在伦敦街头漫步的人们近来都没有看到过这个女人。今天我看到她，发现她的背因为脊椎的疾患更驼了，简直是在弯着腰；她的头也歪到了一侧肩膀的后边，几乎快垂到自己的手腕儿上了。谁都熟悉她的拐杖，她的披巾，她的篮子；谁都知道她除了脚下的路别的什么都看不见，只能摸索着向前走；谁都了解她从不乞讨，从不停下自己的脚步，永远都在漫无目的地朝着某个地方走去。但是没有人知道她靠什么生活，从哪里来，又要到哪里去，为什么要这样走个不停。我还记得，她那裸露的胳膊肤色蜡黄，瘦得只剩一把骨头和包在外面的一层羊皮纸般的肉皮。如今，这双胳膊似乎又有了一些变化——那皮肤看上去显得更斑驳了。她以前似乎总是绕着河岸大道［15］转，绕一圈大概有半英里长的样子。可今天，她怎么离开“轨道”，往东走了这么远？而且又在往回返。她究竟走了多少路啊？在这一带，她应该是罕见的一大奇观。这一点，从一条狗对她的反应上便可以看出来。那是一条长得不太对称的杂种狗，尾巴长得尤其滑稽。当时，这条狗正慢慢地走着，尾巴翘着，耳朵竖着，和它的“同胞们”（如果我可以用这个词的话）一样，令人觉得友好和善。这条狗在一家猪肉店稍作停顿，然后和我一样，慢步往东行进；它的面容和蔼慈善，嘴巴馋涎欲滴，仿佛在默想那肉的可口美味。就在此时，它看到了这个半弓着身子正向自己靠近的“包裹”。它虽没有受到什么惊吓，但还是有些惊奇——这个“包裹”居然会走路。它停下脚步，把耳朵竖得更直一些，又稍稍往前走一点儿，眼睛瞪得又大又圆，鼻头又湿又亮，嘴里发出一声短短的低沉的“汪”。我在一边看着，不由得心惊胆战。“包裹”继续靠近，狗“汪汪”地叫起来，转身想要逃开；可似乎又想到了“身为一条狗，怎能临阵脱逃”的道理，于是又转回身来，再一次面对那个不断向自己靠近的“包裹”。过了好大一会儿，狗似乎想起，这个“包裹”什么地方应该有一张脸吧？这一次，它孤注一掷，决定冒一下险，找找看看。于是，狗慢慢走近“包裹”，慢慢绕着“包裹”转了一圈，终于在一个不应该的地方找到了那张人脸。狗恐惧地嗥叫一声，便飞快地朝着东印度码头［16］方向逃去。

现在，我“巡逻”到了商业路［17］一带。想到斯特普尼火车站就在附近，我不由加快了脚步，因为火车站的另一侧不远处就是我那颗“东方的小星”，我要顺路去看一看那颗“小星”是否依然在明亮地闪烁。

“东方的小星”是我给伦敦东部一家儿童医院起的名字。再次来到这里，我发现这颗“小星”果然依旧明亮，这家医院果然依旧发挥着重要作用。医院里的床位都满了。我上次见到的那个天使般美丽的婴儿已经永远地睡去了，他/她躺过的那张床上现在是一张新面孔。看得出来，我上次离开后，又有很多好心人来过这里。医院的墙上装饰了好多好多布娃娃，让人看了很是愉快。那些娃娃们伸着手臂，睁着大眼睛，展示着自己漂亮的裙子。不知道“卷毛儿”［18］看到这些娃娃，会有怎样的反应。不过，“卷毛儿”的兴趣好像主要在小病号们身上。它就像是一名医生，在病床间走来走去，身旁还跟着一条小狗——大概是朋友，仿佛它的实习助手一样。“卷毛儿”急切地领我去看一个漂亮的小姑娘。小姑娘看起来非常健康，实际上却因为膝部患癌刚刚做了截肢手术。“卷毛儿”摇着尾巴在她的床单上蹭来蹭去，似乎在向我暗示：你看，亲爱的先生，这个截肢手术很不容易，但非常成功！小姑娘拍拍“卷毛儿”，微笑着开口说：“这条腿给我带来很多麻烦，我很高兴把它弄走了。”我们又来到另一个小女孩儿的病床前，小女孩儿张开嘴，让我们看她异常肿胀的舌头。这时候，“卷毛儿”正卧在一张桌子上，和小女孩儿一般高；它满含同情地伸出自己的舌头，神情严肃地看着小女孩儿，眼神里充满了理解和怜爱。我从没有见过哪条狗能像“卷毛儿”这样有风度、有修养，真想把手伸进口袋，拿出一基尼钱，用纸包好，放进它的嘴里。

离开儿童医院，我来到了莱姆豪斯教堂附近，这将是我“巡逻”的最后一站。我发现离这儿不远处有几家“铅厂”。“铅厂”这个名字吸引了我，这个名字在我的脑海里仍记忆犹新。第一次作为“非商务旅客”探访东伦敦儿童医院及其附近地区时曾听人说起“铅厂”。经过了解，这里的铅厂和当时听人说起的那些“铅厂”没有什么不同。于是，我决定去看一看。

接待我的是一对儿聪颖灵敏的兄弟，他们和自己的父亲一起经营这家铅厂。兄弟俩非常欢迎我来参观，而且表示我可以随意看，我便仔细地“巡逻”了一下这家铅厂。铅厂工作的主要目的是将铅锭转化成白铅粉。这个转化要通过铅本身的一种连续的化学变化而慢慢地逐渐地来实现。但整个加工过程别开生面，非常有趣；最有意思的要数其中的一个准备环节：把铅锭分别埋进很多个罐子里——每个罐子里还要放一定数量的酸类物质，再把所有罐子一层一层地全部埋到鞣皮下，存放约十个星期。

我爬上一架又一架梯子，穿过一块又一块木板，登上一个又一个高台；到最后，我都不知道我是像小鸟呢，还是更像砌砖工人。不管怎样，我终于可以在一个立足处停下来了。脚下是一排又一排的大阁楼；站在这里可以清楚地俯看其中一个阁楼里的景象，阳光也透过阁楼顶上砖瓦的缝隙斑驳地照着里面。有许多女人正在那里上上下下地忙碌着；每个上来的女人都扛着一个已经放好了铅和酸的罐子，准备把它埋在冒着热气的鞣皮下。一层罐子放满后，便在上面小心翼翼地盖上木板，再在木板上面小心翼翼地盖上鞣皮；然后，开始放第二层罐子……每一层都设有木管儿，保证通风良好。阁楼里的罐子快放满时，我从自己站的地方下来，走进这个阁楼里面。我发现那鞣皮的温度高得惊人，铅和酸混合发出的味道非常难闻，尽管在这个阶段可能还不至于有毒。在有的阁楼里，罐子已经挖出来了，那儿的鞣皮的热度还要高得多，味道也更刺鼻，更怪异。每一层楼都有很多这样的大阁楼；有的里面放满了罐子，有的里面只放了一半，还有的里面则完全空着；身体强壮、动作敏捷的女人们上上下下里里外外地忙碌着。这情景就像是在一个土耳其富翁家里，听说苏丹［19］或巴夏［20］要来，富翁那些忠诚的后宫佳丽们便赶紧上楼忙着把家里的金银财宝藏起来。

和绝大多数的矿粉或颜料粉一样，白铅粉的加工程序也很繁杂，搅拌、离析、洗涤、研磨、滚搓、挤压，一道工序都不能少。毫无疑问，这其中有些环节对人体健康是非常有害的，其主要危险在于吸入铅微粒或皮肤与铅直接接触。为了消除这些危险因素，铅厂为工人们配发了很好的口罩（用法兰绒和棉布缝制而成，更新成本较低，而且还可以用香皂清洗）、防护手套以及宽大的长外衣。厂房尽可能多地安装了窗户，安装的位置也很合理，因此通风条件非常好。根据以往的经验，也出于对铅中毒的担心，这家铅厂还首创了一项安全措施，即经常轮换在最危险的环节工作的工人。据说，这项安全措施非常有效。在最危险的环节工作的工人们穿戴独特而神秘，个个蒙着口鼻，穿着宽宽大大的长外衣。这样一来，就更符合我前面用的那个比喻了——土耳其富翁的后宫佳丽。

这令人伤脑筋的白铅粉，经过埋存、挖掘、加热、冷却、搅拌、离析、洗涤、研磨、滚搓、挤压等程序，终于到了最后一个环节——高温烘烤。蒙着口鼻，穿着长外衣，犹如土耳其富翁的后宫佳丽的女工们在一个很大的石制烘房里站成一排，像在帮厨师传菜一样，一个传一个地将烤盘放到烘箱里。这个时候的烘箱（或者叫炉窖）还是冷的，看起来有房子那么高，里面有很多临时立脚处，站满了男工和女工；他们敏捷地传递着烤盘，迅速地将烤盘在炉窖里放好。另一个刚用过的烘箱（或者叫炉窖）现在已经快冷却下来了，里面的烤盘也差不多全都取出来了，铅厂负责人把顶上的一扇门打开，以便我这个来访者可以从上面观看烘箱（炉窖）里面的情形。我刚一探头，就忍不住立刻缩了回来；那炙热的气息，那刺鼻的气味，让我有一种要窒息的感觉。这么看来，铅加工过程中，最危险的环节便是进入炉窖里面工作——尽管此时炉窖的门已经打开，新鲜的空气已经进来。

但可以看得出，铅厂负责人的的确确做了很多细心周到的工作，以期将铅中毒的危险降到最低。

厂内有专供女工洗浴的浴室（我原以为只是毛巾比较多而已）；还有专门用于挂衣服、吃饭的房间；房间里有很好的炉灶，那炉火烧得正旺。厂家还配备了一名女服务员来给女工们帮忙，并监督她们在触摸食物前一定不要忘记把手洗干净。此外，还为她们配备了一名经验丰富的医疗护理人员；一旦谁有铅中毒的先兆症状，便可以得到及时的妥善的治疗。我看见女工们的房间时，她们的茶壶以及其他喝下午茶的用具都已经摆好了，很有家的样子。这些女工们比男工更能承受这份工作，她们当中有几个已经在这儿干了好几年了；绝大多数女工都很强壮很泼辣。当然，另一方面，她们大多数人也都很任性很随意，上班时想来就来，不想来就不来。

美国的发明家们好像说过：不久的将来，白铅粉的加工冶炼有可能完全由机器来完成。那么，越早越好。和陪我参观的那对儿坦诚的兄弟告别时，我跟他们说他们没有什么需要隐瞒的，也没有什么可指责的。至于其他，诸如铅中毒的问题，诸如工人们的种种说法，我想完全可以用我在“东方的小星”那篇文章里提到的那位爱尔兰妇女的话来总结：“有的人刚上班不久就铅中毒了，有的过一段时间才会中毒，还有的，不过是少数，一直都不会有事儿。这全在人的体质，先生，有的人体质好，有的人体质弱。”

我要顺原路回家，不再“巡逻”，我“下班”了。

（丁振琴　译）

［1］　英国伦敦的一个广场名，是伦敦主要的水果、花卉和蔬菜市场。——译者注

［2］　位于伦敦东部，有很多的贫民区。——译者注

［3］　指1371年至1714年间统治苏格兰和1603年至1714年间统治英格兰和爱尔兰的王朝。——译者注

［4］　指1665年发生在伦敦的黑死病。——译者注

［5］　指凯尔特民族的神职人员，而凯尔特人是一个公元前5世纪至公元1世纪散居在不列颠、爱尔兰、欧洲、小亚细亚等地的民族。——译者注

［6］　旧时伦敦城的入口，位于一所法学院前，是叛国者和其他罪犯首级示众之处。——译者注

［7］　老贝利（Old Bailey）也用来指位于老贝利街的英国中央刑事法庭。——译者注

［8］　位于新门大街和老贝利街的交角处，是伦敦的一所著名监狱，1904年被拆毁。——译者注

［9］　位于新门大街和纽钱吉街的交角处，以其壮观的原型屋顶而闻名，是英国古典主义建筑的代表。——译者注

［10］　位于杭兹迪奇街。——译者注

［11］　司各特（1771—1832），苏格兰小说家、诗人，历史小说首创者，浪漫主义运动的先驱。——译者注

［12］　位于苏格兰首府爱丁堡，是那里的一条重要街道。——译者注

［13］　指爱丁堡的荷里路德宫周围地区，直到荷里路德公园一带。历史上曾为欠债人的避难所。荷里路德宫曾是苏格兰王室的居所，现在仍是英女王来到苏格兰的皇室住所。——译者注

［14］　位于伦敦东部。——译者注

［15］　位于伦敦中西部的一条大街。——译者注

［16］　位于伦敦东部的一个港区。——译者注

［17］　位于伦敦东区的一条路。——译者注

［18］　一条小狗的名字。——译者注

［19］　伊斯兰教国家的君主。——译者注

［20］　土耳其古代对大官的尊称。——译者注

赛马彩票店

6月14日（星期天）的一份体育报上刊登了二十九条有关赛马胜负预测的广告。每一位“预言家”都宣称，对即将到来的“赛马会”上的每一场赛事，他们都有精准信息透露，信息透露费从一英镑一先令到二先令六便士不等。每一位“预言家”都宣称，自己的预测信息毋庸置疑、无可匹敌，因为有赛马训练站的权威人物（不用说都是些言而无信的人，但那又怎么样呢？）为他提供消息。每一位“预言家”都十分清楚，经他启迪过的彩民必须要赢；他们千方百计地维护着自己的信誉，生怕把战场丢给了别人。他们似乎都是大慈善家，其中的一位“圣人”声称，当他老练的目光扫过苦苦奋斗的芸芸众生，当他亲眼目睹在生活的道路上有的人辛辛苦苦、孜孜不倦地朝着某个确定目标缓慢前行，有的人莽莽撞撞、昏头昏脑地朝着未知的目标急速前冲，他心中便不由生出一种强烈的愿望——要为这芸芸众生点一盏指路明灯；与此同时，他也非常苦恼，因为他每天都亲眼目睹劳苦大众把钱白白浪费在毫无意义的地方。另一位“贤人”，似乎略有不及，在宣告自己重新复出时只说道“战无不胜的预言家又回来啦！”还有一位“道德家”，干脆借《新约圣经》中的主要信条来宣扬自己的“赌马必胜计”，称自己预测必胜的赛马是“被上帝挑中的少数”，自己提供的预测信息则是“上帝的忠告”。还有一位，一方面承认由于自己在前不久的预测中出了点儿“小错”，以致给大家带来了“灾难”；一方面又认为这没有必要做太多解释（尽管他已经做了太多解释），因为他曾成功地探出赛马场上最为隐秘的信息，这足以证明他的预测能力是绝无仅有的，那么偶尔犯点儿小错应该是可以原谅的。所有这些“预言家”的广告都来得及时迅捷，仿佛他们正骑在马背上时突发灵感，来不及下马便赶紧掏出纸笔，把这新鲜的灵感记录下来，用以启迪芸芸众生，重回黄金时代。

赛马赌博如此兴旺火热，举国上下如饥似渴般一头扎进去的傻瓜不计其数，这让人深感忧虑。尤其需要一提的是，赛马赌博的沉迷者中有很多是头脑灵活、年纪尚轻的小伙子，他们清楚地知道自己无论如何也不可能去向莎士比亚学习，于是便找一些胡编乱造的理由来让自己沉迷于赛马赌博。还有一些人，居然认为这被“预言家”们无情劫掠的赛马赌博有可能成为一个无比灿烂辉煌的行业，在我们看来，这简直是一个无比荒唐可笑的想法。不过，或许此想法亦有其合情入理、讨人喜欢的一面，比如说，它有可能湮没人们对那些“预言家”的所有憎恨，如果赛马赌博的恶作剧就此停止的话。

然而，让人遗憾的是，这恶作剧没有就此停止。有那么多匹“被上帝挑中的赛马”，有那么多条“上帝的忠告”，赌马者们坚信自己必将快快乐乐地投入财神的怀抱。打工仔啊、童仆啊，无不意识到能否发财原来完全取决于自己；于是无不行动起来，赶紧去买一则自己能买得起的“赌马必胜计”，然后投身赌博，等待发财。这些具有运动家品格的赌马者们从“征服一切的预言家”手中买来“致富法宝”后，发现还需要有一个便利的场所。在这个场所里，应该有赛马名单及最新投注赔率表；在这个场所里，他们可以把自己的钱（或者从别人那儿借来的钱）投注在经由“预言家”预测必胜的幸运的赛马上。于是，赛马彩票店应运而生，且眨眼间便如雨后春笋般涌现在每一条街道上。所有的赛马彩票店都需要有几个对折本作“账簿”，还需要有几张赛马的彩色图片作宣传，当然，那图片越是陈旧越是脏兮兮便越好。就这样，把几张彩图往橱窗里一摆，再把一本“账簿”往柜台上一放，一切就绪，一个装备完好的彩票店或庄家就算成了。

有的彩票店可能由烟草店或其他什么店改建而成；有的可能一开始就是一家彩票店。有的装修简陋，为了节省资金从“预言家”手中购买“赌马必胜计”，连柜台都省掉了，在屋角处隔出一个挺有官气的隔间，再放张桌子便苟且了事；有的装潢豪华，店内配有上着法国抛光漆的红木桌椅及其他高档的办公室设备。每家彩票店的店长也不尽相同，从彩票店墙上的小窗户偶尔可以看到，有的店长还没有脱离贫困，依旧穿着破旧的衣衫，或正与心怀敬仰的客户喝着杜松子酒，或正站在店内一个隐秘的地方，透过那扇小窗，悄悄审视着门外那些等待买彩票的狂热的彩民们；有的店长看起来地位尊贵，有一种居高临下的优越感，就像“政府官员”一样，戴着一只单片眼镜，仔细地查看着店里的“账簿”。有的彩票店降下身份，投注标准可低至一先令［1］；有的则拒收低于半个克朗［2］的投注；还有的为了抬高身份，把自己和较便宜的彩票店区分开，故意抬高投注标准，从五先令、七先令六便士、半个金币［3］、甚至到一英镑（这样高的投注标准的确比较少见）不等。有的彩票店的彩票就是一小片软塌塌的纸板，上面草草地印着一个表格，内容的填写更是乱七八糟；有的彩票店的彩票则是高雅别致、制作精良的卡片，上面漂漂亮亮地写着“贵族俱乐部出纳员收”。如果你下注的那匹赛马“傻子”在“幸运杯”赛马会上一举夺冠，赢得“幸运奖杯”，你便可以凭着这张彩票，根据上面具体标明的奖金支付日期（通常是赛马会结束后的第二天），去找那位重要人物——出纳员——领取两英镑十五先令的大奖。然而，不管什么样的彩票店，只要它是彩票店，就一定会有人来来往往，乐此不疲——英格兰身手快捷的年轻人，聪明绝顶的年轻人，时刻都在密切关注着赛马会的年轻人，就一定会走进来；然后，像一个头脑简单、茫然不能自已的傻瓜一样乖乖地把钱交出来；再然后，他们便欢天喜地等待着，一直都坚信自己能中大奖，直到最后得知自己赌输了（这是注定的），也只能无奈地舔舔那只把钱交出去的手。

我们这儿附近的彩票店虽地处市中心，但也不能代表彩票店的大本营，因为彩票店实在是太多了，整个伦敦城及其周围的郊区处处都充斥着“彩票店”这个家喻户晓的名字。不过，要是想了解彩票店的话，倒不用走太远的路，因为我们周围街坊上就有很多很多家彩票店。前两天，经过特鲁里街剧院附近一条常走的脏兮兮的大街时，发现那里又新开了一家彩票店，名字起得很是吉利，叫“快乐先生”。

“快乐先生”彩票店规模很小，十分引人注目。这家彩票店就像戏剧《罗密欧与朱丽叶》中提到的那家药店一样，里面几乎没有任何家具设备，只是胡乱地弄了一下，能够将就着卖卖彩票收收钱而已。这家彩票店在阿斯科特赛马会即将举行之时突然出现，且生意红火，我们不由怀疑“快乐先生”可能精心策划了一笔投机买卖：借着赛马会的良机尽情敛财，赛马会一结束，说得难听一点，便溜之大吉。尽管“快乐先生”彩票店从外表看着就让人觉得不可信，但依然会有人来店里买彩票，这一点毋庸置疑。这不，正当我们站在马路对面打量这家彩票店时（估计彩票店就是在这天早上才刚刚开张的），就看到两个报童、一个公司职员、一个年轻的肉商、还有一个刚刚开业的面包店店主走进彩票店，与“快乐先生”做起了交易。这些彩民看起来对“快乐先生”可是没有丝毫戒心。

我们也决定在“快乐先生”这里赌一把，看看结果到底会怎样。于是，我们穿过马路，走进“快乐先生”彩票店，瞟了一眼店里挂着的各种单子——就在此时，又有一位具有运动家风格的彩民（一个挎着蓝包的小伙子）从“快乐先生”这里买了一注彩票——便跟“快乐先生”说我们要买一注“西部让步赛”的彩票，赌“托福纳”这匹赛马，下注半克朗（这个注钱不算低）。把赌金交给“快乐先生”时，我们假装对“托福纳”、“西部让步赛”等等很了解的样子；但事实上，不得不承认，我们对这两个名称一无所知，完全凭空想象“托福纳”是一匹赛马，“西部让步赛”是一个彩票的名称。“快乐先生”表情认真严肃，什么都没问便接过了赌金，登录了赌注，从围着办公桌的栏杆上方把一张脏兮兮的小纸板递给了我们。如果“托福纳”赢了，我们将凭着这个小纸板，在赛后的第二天来领奖；我们还仔细看了一下，奖金是英币七先令六便士。这时，一个机灵鬼悄悄跟我们说，何不借此机会试探一下“快乐先生”，看看他的钱箱里到底有没有足够的钱。于是，我们又递给“快乐先生”一枚金币，请他帮我们换成零钱。“快乐先生”接过金币后，立刻埋下头，在小隔间里假装翻抽屉；很快，便听到了他的回话：没有零钱了，所有的银币都在上午换成金币了。说这话时，“快乐先生”的喉咙里就像有什么东西噎着似的。说完话，“快乐先生”又很快露出头来，从接待室喊来一个男孩儿，让他出去换零钱——那男孩儿好像刚刚见过，看起来非常狡诈的样子。我们跟“快乐先生”说，如果他能找给我们半个金币（既然有那么多金币）的话，我们可以把赌金增加到半个金币，就不用再麻烦了。然而，“快乐先生”再次把头埋进小隔间，说那男孩儿已经跑出去了，相信他一定能把零钱换回来；又补充说刚跟那男孩儿一说，他即刻就没影儿了，一点儿都不麻烦。于是，我们只好在“快乐先生”的店里等那男孩儿回来。这时，我们注意到店里还有一个神秘莫测的女人，一直一动不动地盯着外面的大街——我们猜测她大概是“快乐先生”的老婆吧。正猜着，那男孩儿回来了。我们从他手里接过零钱，隐约看到他的鼻子似乎抽动了一下，好像因为神不知鬼不觉地骗了我们所以备感得意似的；但是我们并不敢确定，这个男孩儿实在太狡诈。

赛马会的第二天，我们拿着彩票凭证又来到“快乐先生”彩票店，发现这里已是一片混乱。店里挤满了人，大多数都是穿着油乎乎脏兮兮衣服的嗜赌如命的小伙子；他们正吵闹着要找“快乐先生”。而坐在“快乐先生”的位子上的正是那个狡诈的男孩儿；他一个人坐在那里，十分的镇定沉着。他说“快乐先生”上午十点钟有急事出去了，要到晚上很晚的时候才能回来；“快乐先生”的老婆因为身体健康的缘故出城了，要到冬天才回来。“‘快乐先生’明天回来吗？”人群中有人大声地问。“他明天也不回来，因为明天是星期天，他星期天要去教堂的”，那狡诈的男孩儿说。听着那有点儿口齿不清的回答，连赌输了的人们都忍不住笑起来了。“那他星期一回来吗？”一个卖菜的年轻小伙子不顾一切地大声问道。“星期一？”那男孩儿想了想，说：“我想他星期一也不会回来，星期一他要去一个促销会。”听到这儿，几个小伙子开始讥讽那个从容不迫镇定自若的男孩儿，“什么去‘促销会’啊？是去‘骗人会’吧。”另有几个蜂拥而上，挤进小隔间，有的大笑着，有的咒骂着。这时，一个童仆发现了“快乐先生”的赌注登录册——那是“快乐先生”留下来的唯一物件。只听他大声喊道：“这个小册子不错啊！”我们擅自翻看了一下那本小册子，发现的确是“不错”：“快乐先生”总共收了大约十七英镑，即便抛除那些必要的开销，他还能赚十一到十二英镑。不用说，“快乐先生”自然会被什么“促销会”绊住脚，再也不会回来了。我们再一次也是最后一次路过“快乐先生”的彩票店时，发现彩票店已不复存在，取而代之的是一家“鞋靴制造厂”。当时天色已近黄昏，一位年轻的先生从“新新酒店”走出，来到这家曾经的彩票店门前，发狂般地拉着门铃。那门铃的把手儿已差不多快被完全拽出来了，就像正在弹奏乐曲的风琴突然停住了一样。一个灰不溜秋、满身灰尘的男人把门打开一条缝，年轻的先生跟他详细地询问起“快乐先生”的情况。那个男人说他什么都不知道，谁都不认识，对“快乐先生”更是闻所未闻，一无所知。希望这个上当受骗的可怜虫听了那个男人的回答后，心能够踏实下来了。他赌出去的钱，是再也不能够从“快乐先生”那里赢回来了。

但总体来说，也不是所有彩民都会成为“快乐先生”们的猎物。哦，绝对不会！我们还有比较守信的彩票店；我们还有“赌场商人道德联合会”来专门惩治像“快乐先生”那样的坏蛋。“赌场商人道德联合会”其实是一家为商人利益服务的机构，其简介封面上还有一幅关于赛马的木刻画。在此，我们愿意忠实地一字不差地为大家呈现该机构的简介内容。

“‘赌场商人道德联合会’相关负责人郑重声明：城市新增赌场并非为了与已有的诚信经营的赌场相抗衡，而是要本着公平竞争的原则，为公众提供更安全更可信的投资渠道，敬请广大公众多多关照。”

“‘赌场商人道德联合会’，正如其名所示，是‘商人（从事商务活动人员）的协会’。该机构亲眼目睹由于一些赌场破产（原因特点及资产规模都差不多）而致使处于弱势地位的赌民经常遭受财产上的损失，而该机构可以监管商人以及投机倒把的小贩公正、诚实地投资经营。因此，‘赌场商人道德联合会’理应受到公众的支持。”

“该联合会的经理认为，公众对于赌场的憎恨（这对于那些努力诚信经营以赢得公众信任的赌场尤为不利）大多源于赌场的客观环境。很多赌场装修布置得过于富丽堂皇、华而不实，其所需费用显然与赌场的合法盈利不相符合；而有的赌场则恰好相反，外观显得过于贫困潦倒，让人觉得其经营者只想一味收赌金，根本没有能力兑奖。”

“还有的赌场设法避免这两种极端，决意不让自己看上去有一点儿像要投机的样子，结果却适得其反，更让人觉得是在惺惺作态，更让人觉得有可能无法‘在赛后的第二天兑奖’”。

“‘赌场商人道德联合会’将在一家信用极好名望极高的赌场开展业务。该赌场位于市中心，其经营者与联合会经理曾签下协议，共同承诺绝不失信于广大民众。”

“所有比赛项目的市场投注赔率都由联合会总经理设定，所有发行的彩票都由总经理亲自签名，所有投注的资金……”

有了这个联合会，商人们自然相信可以放心大胆地把钱投注在自己最喜欢的赛马上；而他们的家人，就像古老的家庭故事中所讲述的一样，自然相信可以过上幸福美满的生活了。

现在，毫无疑问，赛马赌博已蔚然成风，且愈演愈烈；之所以会这样，社会因素起着非常重要的作用。尽管我们对不同的意见尊重之至，但我们坚决认为对赌博进行法律干预的呼吁是错误的。首先，一直以来，我们的法律除了压制公众的文娱活动外，很少对其加以关注，而现在突然要制定一条这样的法规，显然不是明智之选。假使我们的教育立法一直以来都非常关心公众的文娱活动，非常真诚地希望公众的文娱活动越来越丰富越来越好，那么情况可能会有所不同。不过，即使如此，制定赌博法规也有转嫁责任的极大嫌疑。其次，尽管我们的议会中不乏有许多诚实正直的议员，许多非常非常诚实正直的议员，许多不但诚实正直且博学多才的议员，他们站在自己的位子上，滔滔不绝地跟广大公众讲什么是对的，什么是错的，什么是真的，什么是假的。他们的说教也许很有教化作用，但我们依然斗胆敢说，我们不赞成议会当前就赌博问题所制定的种种规范及所采取的解决办法；我们深信，如果这些规范及解决办法没有做到真正的公正公平，那么议会在道义上的权威将遗失殆尽。无疑，全国上下所有人都知道有一些“侠肝义胆”的“预言家”在过去很长一段时间里曾到处宣扬他们的“赌马必胜计”，为广大赌民预测哪匹赛马能使他们中大奖！无疑，不论我们在政治主张上有多大分歧，我们都知道，不止一位“预言家”与体育报上刊登的那位“圣人”一样——“当老练的目光扫过苦苦奋斗的芸芸众生，心中便不由生出一种强烈的愿望——要为这芸芸众生点一盏指路明灯”；“预言家”们借着这盏“指路明灯”，庄严地宣称“黑马”将是胜者；然后，直到卖出了他们的“必胜计”，又突然改口，宣称“白马”可能是胜者，“棕马”可能是胜者，或者“灰马”很有可能是胜者。无疑，不论我们多么不情愿承认，我们都知道，国家的政治诚信已经受到了影响，并已被腐蚀；什么“选举”，什么“政府”，不过是鲁莽草率的赌马彩票店罢了——那里的“预言家”们反复无常，与彩民们玩弄伎俩，且尽可能地拖长时间以使更多彩民上当受骗，之后便出尔反尔，将自己的预言置诸一旁，丝毫不计后果；那里的“预言家”们用自己老练的目光扫视整体形势后，宣称每一匹赛马均有成为胜者的可能。

哦，不！针对赛马赌博这件事情制订法规有可能使其变得公正些，但绝对不会产生什么奇迹；对此，我们深信不疑。家长和雇主必须承担更多的义务，必须了解受自己监护或管理的人员的日常习惯及时常出入的地方；当有新的诱惑来临时，更需要深入了解他们的各种情况。有关单位应该明文规定，学生学徒不得参与赌博，否则严惩不贷。若果然有学生学徒参与赌博，地方法官可以抓几个典型，宣判他们有罪，将他们关进劳教所，并施以严厉处罚，这必将起到杀一儆百的作用。公司职员、政府雇员一旦被发现参与赌博，应当立即开除；有那么多勤勤恳恳踏踏实实的年轻人可以替代他们呐。至于那些与赌马彩票店有关系，的确已查实声誉很坏的人等——不论是不是通缉犯——警察一个都不应放过；我们相信，这样必然能够将很多大骗子公之于众，使民众不再上当。如果家长和雇主们态度坚决，尽职尽责，而不是闪烁其词，将责任推给一条不可依赖的法规，以上这些防范措施应该足矣。当然，还是会有一些漏网之鱼小黠大痴，自取毁灭；但毕竟大部分平民百姓受到了一定的约束，而这的确需要家长和雇主们确实履行自己的责任。

（丁振琴　译）

［1］　在英国旧币制中，1先令相当于12便士，20先令为1英镑。——译者注

［2］　在英国旧币制中，1克朗相当于5先令。——译者注

［3］　在英国旧币制中，一个金币的面值通常为1英镑。——译者注

死亡交易

几年前，很多颇具理性的人们开始清楚地意识到，英国人在丧葬礼俗方面已陷入一种非常可悲的局面。在葬礼上嚣张炫耀、挥霍浪费已渐渐成为一种风气；而这种做法不但不能为死者的名誉增光添彩，还会给生者带来极大的耻辱，因为它将人生中最庄严肃穆的时刻与虚伪的仪式、可耻的负债、铺张的浪费及极度的不负责任紧密联系在一起。对这件事情越是考察得仔细，越是考察到社会底层，便越是觉得这些丧葬礼俗荒谬丑恶；不仅其本身是这样，其后果亦然。任哪一个社会阶层都逃不过去。中产阶级在举办葬礼时互相攀比，排场摆的越大，越显得体面；而那些丧事承办者们便趁机胡作非为，大捞一把。这种风气已蔓延至穷困的社会底层；对于他们来说，举办葬礼所需的费用与收入完全不成比例，足以让他们倾家荡产。为了支付这笔费用，他们只好联合起来，组成所谓的“互助会”。但很多“互助会”的管理者是诡诈狡猾的流氓恶棍，经常欺负这些穷苦的弱者，用非常残酷的手段欺骗他们，压榨他们；还有一些“互助会”，因为对那些最坏最邪恶的“互助会”构成一种新的诱惑，以致引发了一种新的以金钱为目的的谋杀，其罪恶深重至极，即使最为严厉的语言都不足以斥责这种罪孽。一切就绪，丧葬礼俗的邪恶、虚伪及荒谬，俨然已到了无以复加的地步。于是，这滑稽可笑的真相便全部暴露无遗了。无数残忍贪婪之士自称可以提供各种丧葬用品，实则一件也不曾拥有；他们只是真正丧葬用品提供商和殡仪服务员的中间人，他们从丧葬用品商那里租来各种设备，然后就像救火时挨个儿递水桶那样再把这些设备一个传一个地租出去；自然，每个中间人都可以从这份“黑色交易”中大捞一笔。此外，大家都想方设法要把逝者埋葬在本已很拥挤的城镇中，这很明显会给生者带来多么可怕的后果；再加上城镇里的墓地非常有限，墓地所有人又个个贪得无厌，这便又导致了一种有伤风化、恐怖至极的做法，这种做法令我们常人十分憎恶，同时也令我们这个时代以及我们的国家非常丢脸。综上所言，这种贻笑大方的丧葬礼俗可以说已经可悲到了极点。

若不是丧葬礼俗的荒谬可悲已凸显得如此明显，我们恐怕也还正在这个极端堕落的旋涡中苦苦挣扎。现在，我们完全相信，中产阶层中有很多人已通过相关议会文件了解到了丧葬礼俗中的这些恶行，他们不会再将这种坏习俗继续保持下去了；相反，他们将把这种坏习俗作为严正的训谕，告诫最最亲密的下一代人不要将自己的死，自己的葬礼变成腐蚀他人身心的工具。这样的例子，在很多知名人士中并不少见。已故的苏塞克斯公爵为国家利益着想，表明自己过世后，希望以私人形式葬于肯萨尔绿色公墓，不希望举行国葬，亦不希望下葬于温莎堡王室墓地。已故的罗伯特·皮尔［1］爵士要求过世后葬在德雷顿墓园。已故的孀居王后［2］曾就自己的葬礼写下这样的话：“在上帝的御座前，我们每个人都是一样的，我的死亦不足称道；因此，我死后，请不要为我举行盛大奢华的葬礼；请尽可能不要公开，尽可能以私人形式将我的遗体安葬于温莎堡圣乔治教堂。我尤其不希望举行国葬；我静静地死去，亦希望静静地下葬，希望能够远离世界的虚荣和奢华。请不要对我的遗体进行解剖和防腐处理；我希望越简单省事便是越好。”这番话写得令人钦佩令人感动，实在是社会各阶层举办葬礼的最好典范。

这些先例在人们的丧葬礼俗常识中尚属鲜为人知，再加上我们正处于新旧历史交替的时期，那原本已黯淡下去的国葬仪式又开始死灰复燃，美其名曰是为了对已故的威灵顿公爵［3］表示敬意，为了对所有那些在英国历史上留下辉煌记忆的风云人物表示敬意！

在这里，我们想真诚地奉告各位读者：国葬仪式的恢复，不是也不可能是一种荣耀；越是真正伟大的人物，其葬礼越是简单平凡；国葬仪式助长了各种腐化的“死亡交易”，自始至终都不是丧葬礼俗的好榜样。

所有民众，不论其政治主张如何，都明白那些“实权人物”是否曾参与“国葬交易”——是否力图保全国葬仪式，是否视国葬仪式为宝贝，是否充分利用国葬仪式为自己谋利，是否舍不得国葬仪式悄然离去。关于这个问题，我们在这里不想过多讨论。

但国葬仪式的死灰复燃却唤醒了民众借死亡做交易的风气，这种交易与现实格格不入，是那么愚蠢无知，那么荒谬可笑。以下是我们从《泰晤士报》的广告栏摘取的若干例子，以供广大读者评鉴。

首先，关于观看葬礼的席位及观看葬礼时可享用的茶点。某广告称，二楼设有观看葬礼的场所，宽敞舒适，可以举办由钢琴现场伴奏的豪华宴会，这个我们暂不去细看；我们先来看看那“高雅得体”的“每日启事”的内容：“威灵顿公爵葬礼专供红酒”，供不应求，如有需要，请马上订购；“威灵顿公爵葬礼专供蛋糕”，美味可口，由××糕点师专门烘焙；“葬礼寿衣”，由××裁缝师专门缝制；“远近驰名的柠檬饼干”，最能有效缓和悲痛情绪，每磅一先令四便士……接下来，我们逐个看看报纸上刊登的这十几条广告——这众人可以赚钱的大好良机。

路德门山——这里设施齐全、装备完善，可供观看威灵顿公爵盛大壮观、肃穆庄严、震撼人心的出殡仪式。若想拥有开阔的视野、便利的条件、舒适的空间，敬请抓紧时间，查看预定尚余座位。

观看葬礼，有床位提供——出租。位于三楼，共三个房间，两个窗口，视野开阔，可供观看出殡仪式。收费10基尼，含茶点。单个席位，最低收费15先令，含床位和早餐。

观看公爵葬礼——一流的视野，可供15人观看，提供床位和起居室，干净舒适，价格合理。

出租葬礼观看席位和窗口——位于河岸大道，库茨银行附近，位置绝佳。二楼窗口，收费8英镑；三楼窗口，收费5英镑10先令；四楼窗口，收费3英镑10先令；另有两扇玻璃橱窗，各收费7英镑。

威灵顿公爵葬礼观看席位——位置绝佳，可观看整个出殡仪式，视野一览无余。位于老贝利街附近。注：从这里可看到圣保罗大教堂及圣殿关石门。

观看已故威灵顿公爵葬礼——出租，位于三楼，两个窗口，有壁炉，设施齐全，条件便利。团体观看，价格优惠。前排观看座位，每位1基尼。视野所及范围：皮卡迪利大街——帕尔摩街。

观看威灵顿公爵葬礼——二楼三楼出租，可按房间或观看窗口租用，尤其适合家庭观看。设施齐全，舒适便利，视野绝佳。一楼亦设有舒适便利的观看席位，最低价格1基尼。适于室内观看。

观看公爵葬礼——价格优惠。二楼设有两个房间，有观景阳台，可直接通向河岸大道。大房间可容纳15人。小房间8基尼起租。

观看公爵葬礼——橱窗出租，约30个座位，共25基尼。二楼亦设有两大观看窗口。其中一个视野颇佳，视野所及范围可从圣殿关石门直到圣保罗大教堂，收费35基尼。此外，还有几个单人观看座位，每位1基尼。

观看威灵顿公爵出殡仪式——位于查林十字路，科克斯普尔街，位置得天独厚，尚余空位若干，价格合理。因座位紧俏，需尽快预定。另：楼顶亦设有座位若干，视野颇好。

观看已故威灵顿公爵葬礼——出租，位于河岸大道，位置绝佳，三楼，收费10英镑；四楼，收费7英镑10先令，每层各设有两个观看窗口；前排座位抢先预订中，每位1基尼。

观看公爵葬礼——出租，25基尼，专为上流社会家庭开设，视野广阔，位置绝佳，二楼房间，设有安全阳台及会客室。可容纳20人，视野开阔无遮挡。若人员不足20人，可酌情减价。设施齐全，条件便利。

此外，我们要特别注意下面这则广告：

T.C.敬请各位牧师注意——河弯街专门为各位牧师预留了席位，敬请各位牧师入场时着白法衣。第一排四个席位，每位1英镑；第二排四个席位，每位15先令；第三排四个席位，每位12先令6便士；第四排四个席位，每位10先令；第五排四个席位，每位7先令6便士；第六排四个席位，每位5先令。所有剩余席位的价格分别是：40先令，30先令，20先令，15先令和10先令。

这位商人真是富有想象力，他安排二十四位牧师分坐六排，希望以此在自己的橱窗里营造一个神圣而动人的画面，这种创意似乎非常不错；且还能让人觉得他眷顾到了丧礼场合的庄严肃穆的特点。

同类的广告有许多许多，上述几则是随意摘来的，其中很多关于视野范围的描述并不真实，无非是想吸引那些愿意掏腰包的先生们来和自己志趣相投的人儿完成一次集会。为了这样的集会，他们已做好了充分的准备：茶点、红酒、白酒、食物、水果、盘子、杯子、各种瓷器，以及其他许多不胜枚举的小玩意儿；而最最重要的是，他们对这样的集会全部都是热情高涨、激情满怀。我们仔细观察这些人群，时不时地会大吃一惊，尤其当我们看到那件所谓的艺术品时。话说这件艺术品上刻有一句话“渴盼夜晚到来，渴盼布鲁奇王子到来”［4］，旁边还注有传奇故事，讲述的是这位正被大家悼念着的英雄——威灵顿公爵如何评价这件艺术品：英雄以他特有的语气语调评论说“很好，的确很好。”哦，艺术！你也来参与“死亡交易”啦！

接下来，我们再来看看有关逝者亲笔信的广告。私人印章的神圣性、私人信件的私密性，对于“死亡交易者”来说，毫无意义；在他们的字典里，根本就没有这样的词汇。现在，就让我们停下来，听一听送殡的喇叭如何向全世界公开这位逝者独有的亲笔信！

威灵顿亲笔——公爵接连写下的两封回信，绝对真迹（1843），颇具特色；另外还有那两封来信等，称得上文学珍品，售价15英镑。

威灵顿亲笔——转让威灵顿公爵亲笔信两封。一封写于沃尔默城堡，时间：1834年10月9日；另一封写于伦敦，时间：1843年5月17日。邮戳及公爵印章均完整无缺。

威灵顿——出售威灵顿公爵便笺三封，有公爵印章、信封。系公爵亲笔书写，非平板印刷；每封便笺长度约21/4页。在迄今已公开的公爵亲笔信中，当属最具公爵特色的真迹。售价：两封30英镑，一封20英镑，不讲价。

转让——某退役军官欲转让已故英雄威灵顿公爵的亲笔信和便笺，共五封，其中有三封系公爵当年被称为阿瑟·韦尔兹利爵士时所写。另有一大信封。所有信函、便笺及信封均盖有公爵印章。可现场购买，亦可来信进行交易。

公爵信函——出售公爵亲笔信两封，货真价实，内容风趣幽默，颇具特色。

威灵顿公爵——公爵写给某位女士的亲笔信，颇具公爵风格，有印章、信封。出价高者优先。现场交易。

陆军元帅威灵顿公爵——已故威灵顿公爵家族成员，现有公爵写给自己的亲笔信一封，内容涉及军务，长达6页，保存完好。售价30英镑。

陆军元帅威灵顿公爵亲笔——转让颇具特色的公爵亲笔信一封，信中公爵曾提及自己将活到100岁，写于1847年，有信封，印章及家族饰章均保存完好。售价10英镑。

威灵顿公爵——出售威灵顿公爵亲笔信，写于1831年公爵夫人刚刚去世之际；另有两个公爵亲笔书写的信封，邮票、印章均保存完整。

威灵顿公爵——公爵亲笔公务信函，信封、印章、邮戳等均保存完整。信函风格彬彬有礼、独具特色。请按所示地址来现场交易。售价15英镑。

陆军元帅威灵顿公爵——出售公爵亲笔信两封，一封系公爵61岁时所写，另一封系72岁时所写，笔迹独具公爵风格，内容涉及重要话题。确保货真价实，敬请放心。

威灵顿公爵——公爵写给某位女士的一封信函，该信函部分由打印机打印而成，部分由公爵亲笔书写，奇特异常，实属绝品，值得珍藏。出价最高者优先。

出售陆军元帅威灵顿公爵亲笔信六封——系有人慷慨解囊，赠与了某位身陷贫困的女士，信封、印章均完好无缺。

威灵顿公爵——一位女士欲转让公爵亲笔信一封，写于今年6月18日，恰逢滑铁卢战役［5］周年纪念日，也是公爵度过的最后一个滑铁卢战役周年纪念日，因此倍加珍贵。信函写于阿普斯利公爵宅第［6］，信封、印章均保存完好。

一位牧师，欲转让已故公爵写给自己的亲笔信两封，系公爵私人慈善行为的极好见证，有信封，出价最高者优先（可买一封，亦可买两封），本月18日前有效。若有特殊情况，价格可商量。

威灵顿公爵——一位悲痛的孀妇，现有威灵顿公爵亲

笔信一封，写于1830年，有信封，上面写有收信人姓名和地址，还有公爵冠冕形印章，欲低价出售。

一位先生，欲出售已故威灵顿公爵写给自己的十分宝贵的亲笔便笺一封，写于1850年3月27日，售价20英镑，有信封，上面的公爵印章及骑士桥地区［7］邮戳均完好无损，清晰可见。该信函充分展现了常人难以见到的公爵贵族笔迹及独特文风。

转让威灵顿公爵晚年所写的亲笔信一封，该信系公爵于临终前一两天时在沃尔默城堡写成，独具特色，印章、邮戳等均清晰可见。该信极有可能是已故公爵留下的最后一封亲笔信，故颇具收藏价值。出价最高者优先。欲见此物，请速申请。

伟大的公爵——出售伟大的英雄公爵的亲笔信一封，写于1851年3月27日。另有珍妮·林德［8］的漂亮亲笔信一封，写于1852年6月20日。出价最高者优先。来信请注明出价。

林德小姐的亲笔信似乎一直躲在暗处徘徊不前，直到出殡的队伍走近，才羞答答走向前来加入了这个行列，还占了个很惹人注目的位置。真不知道我们最应该推崇的是哪一条：有关林德小姐的这则广告设计得如此精妙；有关“极有可能是已故公爵留下的最后一封亲笔信”的广告做得是那样感人，那样巧妙，那样快捷高效，让人觉得卖家是要在出于英雄责任感写下这封信的那双老手尚未在坟墓里枯萎前将信售出；那位急于出售、宣扬“公爵私人慈善行为的极好见证”的牧师——不知他是否曾身着白法衣出现在T.C.的橱窗里且坐在前排——是那样虔诚；那位将“六封信封、印章均完好无缺的亲笔信”赠与身陷贫困的某位女士的好心人是那样慷慨大方。

最后，我们再来看看已故者留下的那些宝贵的遗物——与已故者生前生活息息相关的物品，就像哈迪爵士［9］一直戴在胸前的纳尔逊勋爵［10］的小画像一样。这些遗物很是珍贵，若没有现金支付，广告商是万万不肯脱手的。

已故威灵顿公爵遗物——转让著名已故公爵的一绺头发。确保无假。出价最高者优先。来函申请，请预付邮资。

威灵顿公爵——一位孀居女士藏有已故威灵顿公爵头发一绺，系女王加冕当日早上剪下。现欲转让。来函申请，请预付邮资。

已故威灵顿公爵珍贵遗物——一位女士藏有著名已故公爵的许多头发，系1841年剪下，现欲出售其中一部分，售价25英镑。卖家将提供有效证明及遗物来源，确保无假。来函索取，请预付货款。

出售威灵顿公爵遗物——已故威灵顿公爵的已故著名理发师的儿子，现住斯特拉斯菲尔德赛，存有公爵的少量头发，系当年其父从公爵头上剪下。现欲转让，若有心收藏英格兰大英雄的这份遗物，请来信申请、注明出价。

已故威灵顿公爵遗物——出售公爵前些年穿过的马甲一件，保存完好，提供有效证明，确保无假。

下面的这一件更是非同寻常，堪称公爵遗物中的精粹；且据广告所言，人证物证俱全，哪怕是最生性多疑的人也不可能对其真实性有半点儿怀疑，想必这件遗物更是价值非凡。

威灵顿公爵纪念物——现有一本诗集《拿破仑之死》，作者：亚历山达罗·曼佐尼［11］，附法语译文，译者：埃德蒙·安吉琳，于威尼斯。当年公爵乘马车途径肯特郡时将此书撕毁并扔在地上，恰巧一位路人亲眼目睹了公爵撕书扔书的全过程，这位路人将书的碎片收集起来，并将它们一一拼好。若想收藏此纪念品，请与我们联系。

最后，还有一部辉煌灿烂、生气蓬勃的文学作品；我们敢说，任何一位有身份有地位的先生若是没有收藏这本书，那他的书房绝对算不上藏书齐全。

威灵顿公爵与罗伯特·皮尔爵士——转让公爵著作一部，内容有关政治经济和自由贸易。该书生动有趣、才华满溢、价值不凡，1830年一经出版，便几乎被罗伯特·皮尔爵士全部买下，现仅剩一本，预购从速，请来函申请。

考虑到读者的缘故，我们暂且只引用这么多吧。事实上，像这样的广告有太多太多，如果一直引用下去的话，恐怕这整本书都会被广告占满了。

我们认为，国葬仪式扰乱了人心，给广大民众带来了不良影响，误导大家在葬礼上讲排场、多花钱，认为只有这样才能表示对逝者的敬重；而事实上，这恰恰是一种陋习。为了社会各阶层的利益，这种陋习急需革除；而国葬仪式不但对此于事无补，还助长了这种陋习的蔓延。此外，国葬仪式本身以形式替代实质，显然是虚假做作、刻意雕琢、陈腐污浊的，简直就是一场矫揉造作、虚张声势的恶作剧；这场恶作剧不但使得死亡那种令人敬畏的庄严肃穆消失殆尽，还助长了厚颜无耻的投机商在逝者的棺材盖上做生意、发死亡财的风气。我们毫不怀疑，即使威灵顿公爵只是带着军事指挥官的荣誉，在全国民众的无声的敬意中静静地下葬，依然会有人对他的信件及其他遗物广而告之并高价出售；但与此同时，我们也深信，如果威灵顿公爵的遗体能够静静地下葬，至少那些投机商们不会借势撒欢，在葬礼上举行什么“商品交易会”、“殡仪员欢庆会”等玩意儿。如果侍从办公室［12］及宗谱纹章院［13］不停止这种奢靡的国葬仪式，民众就不可能心境平和，停止在葬礼上花重金求虚荣的风气。这两者之间有着难以逾越的鸿沟，非凡人之手造就，亦非凡人之手可以填平。如若不然，难道还能有人相信下面这样的事情不成：“法国某政府要员”星期二晚上还在哀悼国家英雄——大将军拿破仑；星期三下午，英雄尚未下葬之时，便开始与休谟先生［14］——威灵顿公爵的私人医生谈笑风生？

本文写于举行国葬的当晚，因为日志的特点就是要及时记录所见所闻。前面我们已经表明，我们认为国葬是一个错误；在此，我们仅希望大家能够坐下来平心静气地思考一下这个问题。国葬仪式所带来的害处很容易想象，但国葬仪式能给大家带来什么益处却很难想象得出，至于国葬仪式能否给威灵顿公爵的下一代带来一丝满足，能否为威灵顿公爵这个响当当的名字增加一点光彩，则更加难以想象。如果有人认为国葬仪式是全英国人民的普遍愿望，那一定只是某些名人达士的错觉，普通民众的想法却被忽略了。希望位高权重的政府要员们能尽快将两者的想法都重视起来，只有这样才有可能是为全国人民考虑。当然，可以肯定地说，我们的期待没有错；换句话说，葬礼上一切都进行得很好，英国人民没有愧对多年来赢得的民族声誉，少数表现得有损民族声誉的蠢人理应感到羞耻。不过，在这里，我们依然要说，我们希望国葬仪式能够在今天——1852年11月18日，乘着那辆在伦敦大街上招摇过市的俗丽的彩车，走向自己的坟墓。我们完全尊重不同的意见，但与此同时，我们也深信，随着历史车轮的前行，国葬仪式会变得默默无闻、宽大仁慈；那俗丽的丧礼彩车——那有资格穿过盛装的圣殿关石门，圣殿关石门也应该开放接纳的丧礼彩车——亦会被历史湮没。到那时，我们会惊奇地发现：历史没有忘记威灵顿公爵那忠实、谦逊、持重、真诚的高尚品德；历史会铭记，为自己忠诚热爱着的国家做出最后一次贡献，结束虚伪奢靡的丧葬仪式的人物正是阿瑟·韦尔兹利——威灵顿公爵。

（丁振琴　译）

［1］　罗伯特·皮尔（1788—1850），英国首相（1834—1835，1841—1846），保守党创始人，任内政大臣时建立首都警察队（1829）。——译者注

［2］　指阿德莱德王后（1792—1849），其丈夫威廉四世于1837年去世，从而成为英国自18世纪以来第一位孀居王后。文中引用部分乃阿德莱德王后1841年在病榻上所写。——译者注

［3］　威灵顿公爵（1769—1852），本名为阿瑟·韦尔兹利，英国陆军元帅、首相（1828—1830），以在滑铁卢战役（1815）中指挥英、普联军击败拿破仑而闻名，有“铁公爵”之称。——译者注

［4］　这是威灵顿公爵在滑铁卢战役中说的一句话。当时，威灵顿公爵的部队眼看要被打败，公爵正焦急地等待普鲁士王子布鲁奇元帅率军来援助。另，之所以渴盼夜晚到来，是因为夜幕降临后，暂时不用打仗。——译者注

［5］　滑铁卢战役发生于1815年6月18日，由法军对英普军在比利时小镇滑铁卢决战。威灵顿公爵指挥英、普联军大胜拿破仑，结束了拿破仑帝国。——译者注

［6］　是威灵顿公爵和他的继承者们居住过的地方。——译者注

［7］　骑士桥地区位于伦敦中部，主要是住宅区，没有什么办公场所，非常安静。——译者注

［8］　珍妮·林德（1820—1887）是瑞典著名女高音歌唱家，在欧洲大陆享有盛誉，被称为“瑞典夜莺”。——译者注

［9］　全称为托马斯·马斯特曼·哈迪爵士（1769—1839），英国皇家海军军官。曾在海军上将纳尔逊勋爵（旗舰司令）手下任旗舰舰长。据英国记者鲁宾·珀西（Reuben Percy）（本名托马斯·伯雷（Thomas Byerley，？—1826）在《文学娱乐教育之镜》（The Mirror of literature，amusement，and instruction）第34卷记载，纳尔逊勋爵曾将自己的一枚小画像送给托马斯·哈迪，哈迪爵士便一直将此画像佩戴于胸前，并表明自己过世后，希望这枚画像能依旧陪伴自己，与自己的遗体埋葬在一起。——译者注

［10］　全称为霍雷肖·纳尔逊勋爵（1758—1805），英国海军上将、世界著名海军统帅，被誉为“英国皇家海军之魂”。——译者注

［11］　亚历山大·曼佐尼（1785—1873），意大利诗人、小说家，19世纪意大利浪漫主义文学的代表。——译者注

［12］　英国皇室下设的一个部门，主要负责礼仪、国事访问、授权仪式、皇家招待会、皇室婚礼及葬礼等。——译者注

［13］　英国皇室下设的一个部门，主要负责各种仪式、宗谱调查、家谱记录等。——译者注

［14］　全名为约翰·罗伯特·休谟（1781？—1857），曾是威灵顿元帅麾下的一名军医，也是威灵顿公爵的私人医生。——译者注

Night Walks

Charles Dickens

Night Walks

Some years ago, a temporary inability to sleep, referable to a distressing impression, caused me to walk about the streets all night, for a series of several nights. The disorder might have taken a long time to conquer, if it had been faintly experimented on in bed; but, it was soon defeated by the brisk treatment of getting up directly after lying down, and going out, and coming home tired at sunrise.

In the course of those nights, I finished my education in a fair amateur experience of houselessness. My principal object being to get through the night, the pursuit of it brought me into sympathetic relations with people who have no other object every night in the year.

The month was March, and the weather damp, cloudy, and cold. The sun not rising before half-past five, the night perspective looked sufficiently long at half-past twelve: which was about my time for confronting it.

The restlessness of a great city, and the way in which it tumbles and tosses before it can get to sleep, formed one of the first entertainments offered to the contemplation of us houseless people. It lasted about two hours. We lost a great deal of companionship when the late publichouses turned their lamps out, and when the potmen thrust the last brawling drunkards into the street; but stray vehicles and stray people were left us, after that. If we were very lucky, a policeman’s rattle sprang and a fray turned up; but, in general, surprisingly little of this diversion was provided. Except in the Haymarket, which is the worst kept part of London, and about Kent-street in the Borough, and along a portion of the line of the Old Kentroad, the peace was seldom violently broken. But, it was always the case that London, as if in imitation of individual citizens belonging to it, had expiring fits and starts of restlessness. After all seemed quiet, if one cab rattled by, half-a-dozen would surely follow; and Houselessness even observed that intoxicated people appeared to be magnetically attracted towards each other: so that we knew when we saw one drunken object staggering against the shutters of a shop, that another drunken object would stagger up before five minutes were out, to fraternise or fight with it. When we made a divergence from the regular species of drunkard, the thin-armed, puff-faced, leadenlipped gin-drinker, and encountered a rarer specimen of a more decent appearance, fifty to one but that specimen was dressed in soiled mourning. As the street experience in the night, so the street experience in the day; the common folk who come unexpectedly into a little property, come unexpectedly into a deal of liquor.

At length these flickering sparks would die away, worn out - the last veritable sparks of waking life trailed from some late pieman or hot-potato man - and London would sink to rest. And then the yearning of the houseless mind would be for any sign of company, any lighted place, any movement, anything suggestive of any one being up - nay, even so much as awake, for the houseless eye looked out for lights in windows.

Walking the streets under the pattering rain, Houselessness would walk and walk and walk, seeing nothing but the interminable tangle of streets, save at a corner, here and there, two policemen in conversation, or the sergeant or inspector looking after his men. Now and then in the night - but rarely - Houselessness would become aware of a furtive head peering out of a doorway a few yards before him, and, coming up with the head, would find a man standing bolt upright to keep within the doorway’s shadow, and evidently intent upon no particular service to society. Under a kind of fascination, and in a ghostly silence suitable to the time, Houselessness and this gentleman would eye one another from head to foot, and so, without exchange of speech, part, mutually suspicious. Drip, drip, drip, from ledge and coping, splash from pipes and water-spouts, and by-and-by the houseless shadow would fall upon the stones that pave the way to Waterloo-bridge; it being in the houseless mind to have a halfpenny worth of excuse for saying ‘Good night’ to the toll-keeper, and catching a glimpse of his fire. A good fire and a good great-coat and a good woollen neck-shawl, were comfortable things to see in conjunction with the toll-keeper; also his brisk wakefulness was excellent company when he rattled the change of halfpence down upon that metal table of his, like a man who defied the night, with all its sorrowful thoughts, and didn’t care for the coming of dawn. There was need of encouragement on the threshold of the bridge, for the bridge was dreary. The chopped-up murdered man, had not been lowered with a rope over the parapet when those nights were; he was alive, and slept then quietly enough most likely, and undisturbed by any dream of where he was to come. But the river had an awful look, the buildings on the banks were muffled in black shrouds, and the reflected lights seemed to originate deep in the water, as if the spectres of suicides were holding them to show where they went down. The wild moon and clouds were as restless as an evil conscience in a tumbled bed, and the very shadow of the immensity of London seemed to lie oppressively upon the river.

Between the bridge and the two great theatres, there was but the distance of a few hundred paces, so the theatres came next. Grim and black within, at night, those great dry Wells, and lonesome to imagine, with the rows of faces faded out, the lights extinguished, and the seats all empty. One would think that nothing in them knew itself at such a time but Yorick’s skull. In one of my night walks, as the church steeples were shaking the March winds and rain with strokes of Four, I passed the outer boundary of one of these great deserts, and entered it. With a dim lantern in my hand, I groped my well-known way to the stage and looked over the orchestra - which was like a great grave dug for a time of pestilence - into the void beyond. A dismal cavern of an immense aspect, with the chandelier gone dead like everything else, and nothing visible through mist and fog and space, but tiers of winding-sheets. The ground at my feet where, when last there, I had seen the peasantry of Naples dancing among the vines, reckless of the burning mountain which threatened to overwhelm them, was now in possession of a strong serpent of engine-hose, watchfully lying in wait for the serpent Fire, and ready to fly at it if it showed its forked tongue. A ghost of a watchman, carrying a faint corpse candle, haunted the distant upper gallery and flitted away. Retiring within the proscenium, and holding my light above my head towards the rolled-up curtain - green no more, but black as ebony - my sight lost itself in a gloomy vault, showing faint indications in it of a shipwreck of canvas and cordage. Methought I felt much as a diver might, at the bottom of the sea.

In those small hours when there was no movement in the streets, it afforded matter for reflection to take Newgate in the way, and, touching its rough stone, to think of the prisoners in their sleep, and then to glance in at the lodge over the spiked wicket, and see the fire and light of the watching turnkeys, on the white wall. Not an inappropriate time either, to linger by that wicked little Debtors’ Door - shutting tighter than any other door one ever saw - which has been Death’s Door to so many. In the days of the uttering of forged one-pound notes by people tempted up from the country, how many hundreds of wretched creatures of both sexes - many quite innocent - swung out of a pitiless and inconsistent world, with the tower of yonder Christian church of Saint Sepulchre monstrously before their eyes! Is there any haunting of the Bank Parlour, by the remorseful souls of old directors, in the nights of these later days, I wonder, or is it as quiet as this degenerate Aceldama of an Old Bailey?

To walk on to the Bank, lamenting the good old times and bemoaning the present evil period, would be an easy next step, so I would take it, and would make my houseless circuit of the Bank, and give a thought to the treasure within; likewise to the guard of soldiers passing the night there, and nodding over the fire. Next, I went to Billingsgate, in some hope of market-people, but it proving as yet too early, crossed London-bridge and got down by the waterside on the Surrey shore among the buildings of the great brewery. There was plenty going on at the brewery; and the reek, and the smell of grains, and the rattling of the plump dray horses at their mangers, were capital company. Quite refreshed by having mingled with this good society, I made a new start with a new heart, setting the old King’s Bench prison before me for my next object, and resolving, when I should come to the wall, to think of poor Horace Kinch, and the Dry Rot in men.

A very curious disease the Dry Rot in men, and difficult to detect the beginning of. It had carried Horace Kinch inside the wall of the old King’s Bench prison, and it had carried him out with his feet foremost. He was a likely man to look at, in the prime of life, well to do, as clever as he needed to be, and popular among many friends. He was suitably married, and had healthy and pretty children. But, like some fair-looking houses or fair-looking ships, he took the Dry Rot. The first strong external revelation of the Dry Rot in men, is a tendency to lurk and lounge; to be at street-corners without intelligible reason; to be going anywhere when met; to be about many places rather than at any; to do nothing tangible, but to have an intention of performing a variety of intangible duties to-morrow or the day after. When this manifestation of the disease is observed, the observer will usually connect it with a vague impression once formed or received, that the patient was living a little too hard. He will scarcely have had leisure to turn it over in his mind and form the terrible suspicion ‘Dry Rot,’ when he will notice a change for the worse in the patient’s appearance: a certain slovenliness and deterioration, which is not poverty, nor dirt, nor intoxication, nor ill-health, but simply Dry Rot. To this, succeeds a smell as of strong waters, in the morning; to that, a looseness respecting money; to that, a stronger smell as of strong waters, at all times; to that, a looseness respecting everything; to that, a trembling of the limbs, somnolency, misery, and crumbling to pieces. As it is in wood, so it is in men. Dry Rot advances at a compound usury quite incalculable. A plank is found infected with it, and the whole structure is devoted. Thus it had been with the unhappy Horace Kinch, lately buried by a small subscription. Those who knew him had not nigh done saying, ‘So well off, so comfortably established, with such hope before him - and yet, it is feared, with a slight touch of Dry Rot!’ when lo! the man was all Dry Rot and dust.

From the dead wall associated on those houseless nights with this too common story, I chose next to wander by Bethlehem Hospital; partly, because it lay on my road round to Westminster; partly, because I had a night fancy in my head which could be best pursued within sight of its walls and dome. And the fancy was this: Are not the sane and the insane equal at night as the sane lie a dreaming? Are not all of us outside this hospital, who dream, more or less in the condition of those inside it, every night of our lives? Are we not nightly persuaded, as they daily are, that we associate preposterously with kings and queens, emperors and empresses, and notabilities of all sorts? Do we not nightly jumble events and personages and times and places, as these do daily? Are we not sometimes troubled by our own sleeping inconsistencies, and do we not vexedly try to account for them or excuse them, just as these do sometimes in respect of their waking delusions? Said an afflicted man to me, when I was last in a hospital like this, ‘Sir, I can frequently fly.’ I was half ashamed to reflect that so could I - by night. Said a woman to me on the same occasion, ‘Queen Victoria frequently comes to dine with me, and her Majesty and I dine off peaches and maccaroni in our nightgowns, and his Royal Highness the Prince Consort does us the honour to make a third on horseback in a Field-Marshal’s uniform.’ Could I refrain from reddening with consciousness when I remembered the amazing royal parties I myself had given (at night), the unaccountable viands I had put on table, and my extraordinary manner of conducting myself on those distinguished occasions? I wonder that the great master who knew everything, when he called Sleep the death of each day’s life, did not call Dreams the insanity of each day’s sanity.

By this time I had left the Hospital behind me, and was again setting towards the river; and in a short breathing space I was on Westminster-bridge, regaling my houseless eyes with the external walls of the British Parliament - the perfection of a stupendous institution, I know, and the admiration of all surrounding nations and succeeding ages, I do not doubt, but perhaps a little the better now and then for being pricked up to its work. Turning off into Old Palace-yard, the Courts of Law kept me company for a quarter of an hour; hinting in low whispers what numbers of people they were keeping awake, and how intensely wretched and horrible they were rendering the small hours to unfortunate suitors. Westminster Abbey was fine gloomy society for another quarter of an hour; suggesting a wonderful procession of its dead among the dark arches and pillars, each century more amazed by the century following it than by all the centuries going before. And indeed in those houseless night walks - which even included cemeteries where watchmen went round among the graves at stated times, and moved the tell-tale handle of an index which recorded that they had touched it at such an hour - it was a solemn consideration what enormous hosts of dead belong to one old great city, and how, if they were raised while the living slept, there would not be the space of a pin’s point in all the streets and ways for the living to come out into. Not only that, but the vast armies of dead would overflow the hills and valleys beyond the city, and would stretch away all round it, God knows how far.

When a church clock strikes, on houseless ears in the dead of the night, it may be at first mistaken for company and hailed as such. But, as the spreading circles of vibration, which you may perceive at such a time with great clearness, go opening out, for ever and ever afterwards widening perhaps (as the philosopher has suggested) in eternal space, the mistake is rectified and the sense of loneliness is profounder. Once - it was after leaving the Abbey and turning my face north - I came to the great steps of St. Martin’s church as the clock was striking Three. Suddenly, a thing that in a moment more I should have trodden upon without seeing, rose up at my feet with a cry of loneliness and houselessness, struck out of it by the bell, the like of which I never heard. We then stood face to face looking at one another, frightened by one another. The creature was like a beetle-browed hairlipped youth of twenty, and it had a loose bundle of rags on, which it held together with one of its hands. It shivered from head to foot, and its teeth chattered, and as it stared at me - persecutor, devil, ghost, whatever it thought me - it made with its whining mouth as if it were snapping at me, like a worried dog. Intending to give this ugly object money, I put out my hand to stay it - for it recoiled as it whined and snapped - and laid my hand upon its shoulder. Instantly, it twisted out of its garment, like the young man in the New Testament, and left me standing alone with its rags in my hands.

Covent-garden Market, when it was market morning, was wonderful company. The great waggons of cabbages, with growers’ men and boys lying asleep under them, and with sharp dogs from market-garden neighbourhoods looking after the whole, were as good as a party. But one of the worst night sights I know in London, is to be found in the children who prowl about this place; who sleep in the baskets, fight for the offal, dart at any object they think they can lay their thieving hands on, dive under the carts and barrows, dodge the constables, and are perpetually making a blunt pattering on the pavement of the Piazza with the rain of their naked feet. A painful and unnatural result comes of the comparison one is forced to institute between the growth of corruption as displayed in the so much improved and cared for fruits of the earth, and the growth of corruption as displayed in these all uncared for (except inasmuch as ever-hunted) savages.

There was early coffee to be got about Covent-garden Market, and that was more company - warm company, too, which was better. Toast of a very substantial quality, was likewise procurable: though the towzled-headed man who made it, in an inner chamber within the coffeeroom, hadn’t got his coat on yet, and was so heavy with sleep that in every interval of toast and coffee he went off anew behind the partition into complicated cross-roads of choke and snore, and lost his way directly. Into one of these establishments (among the earliest) near Bowstreet, there came one morning as I sat over my houseless cup, pondering where to go next, a man in a high and long snuff-coloured coat, and shoes, and, to the best of my belief, nothing else but a hat, who took out of his hat a large cold meat pudding; a meat pudding so large that it was a very tight fit, and brought the lining of the hat out with it. This mysterious man was known by his pudding, for on his entering, the men of sleep brought him a pint of hot tea, a small loaf, and a large knife and fork and plate. Left to himself in his box, he stood the pudding on the bare table, and, instead of cutting it stabbed it, overhand, with the knife, like a mortal enemy; then took the knife out, wiped it on his sleeve, tore the pudding asunder with his fingers, and ate it all up. The remembrance of this man with the pudding remains with me as the remembrance of the most spectral person my houselessness encountered. Twice only was I in that establishment, and twice I saw him stalk in (as I should say, just out of bed, and presently going back to bed), take out his pudding, stab his pudding, wipe the dagger, and eat his pudding all up. He was a man whose figure promised cadaverousness, but, who had an excessively red face, though shaped like a horse’s. On the second occasion of my seeing him, he said huskily to the man of sleep, ‘Am I red to-night?’ ‘You are,’ he uncompromisingly answered. ‘My mother,’ said the spectre, ‘was a red-faced woman that liked drink, and I looked at her hard when she laid in her coffin, and I took the complexion.’ Somehow, the pudding seemed an unwholesome pudding after that, and I put myself in its way no more.

When there was no market, or when I wanted variety, a railway terminus with the morning mails coming in, was remunerative company. But like most of the company to be had in this world, it lasted only a very short time. The station lamps would burst out ablaze, the porters would emerge from places of concealment, the cabs and trucks would rattle to their places (the post-office carts were already in theirs), and, finally, the bell would strike up, and the train would come banging in. But there were few passengers and little luggage, and everything scuttled away with the greatest expedition. The locomotive post-offices, with their great nets - as if they had been dragging the country for bodies - would fly open as to their doors, and would disgorge a smell of lamp, an exhausted clerk, a guard in a red coat, and their bags of letters; the engine would blow and heave and perspire, like an engine wiping its forehead and saying what a run it had had; and within ten minutes the lamps were out, and I was houseless and alone again.

But now, there were driven cattle on the high road near, wanting (as cattle always do) to turn into the midst of stone walls, and squeeze themselves through six inches’ width of iron railing, and getting their heads down (also as cattle always do) for tossing-purchase at quite imaginary dogs, and giving themselves and every devoted creature associated with them a most extraordinary amount of unnecessary trouble. Now, too, the conscious gas began to grow pale with the knowledge that daylight was coming, and straggling work-people were already in the streets, and, as waking life had become extinguished with the last pieman’s sparks, so it began to be rekindled with the fires of the first street-corner breakfast-sellers. And so by faster and faster degrees, until the last degrees were very fast, the day came, and I was tired and could sleep. And it is not, as I used to think, going home at such times, the least wonderful thing in London, that in the real desert region of the night, the houseless wanderer is alone there. I knew well enough where to find Vice and Misfortune of all kinds, if I had chosen; but they were put out of sight, and my houselessness had many miles upon miles of streets in which it could, and did, have its own solitary way.

Gone Astray

When I was a very small boy indeed, both in years and stature, I got lost one day in the City of London. I was taken out by Somebody (shade of Somebody forgive me for remembering no more of thy identity!), as an immense treat, to be shown the outside of Saint Giles’s Church. I had romantic ideas in connexion with that religious edifice; firmly believing that all the beggars who pretended through the week to be blind, lame, one-armed, deaf and dumb, and otherwise physically afflicted, laid aside their pretences every Sunday, dressed themselves in holiday clothes, and attended divine service in the temple of their patron saint. I had a general idea that the reigning successor of Bamfylde Moore Carew acted as a sort of church-warden on these occasions, and sat in a high pew with red curtains.

It was in the spring-time when these tender notions of mine, bursting forth into new shoots under the influence of the season, became sufficiently troublesome to my parents and guardians to occasion Somebody to volunteer to take me to see the outside of Saint Giles’s Church, which was considered likely (I suppose) to quench my romantic fire, and bring me to a practical state. We set off after breakfast. I have an impression that Somebody was got up in a striking manner - in cord breeches of fine texture and milky hue, in long jean gaiters, in a green coat with bright buttons, in a blue neckerchief, and a monstrous shirt-collar. I think he must have newly come (as I had myself) out of the hop-grounds of Kent. I considered him the glass of fashion and the mould of form: a very Hamlet without the burden of his difficult family affairs.

We were conversational together, and saw the outside of Saint Giles’s Church with sentiments of satisfaction, much enhanced by a flag flying from the steeple. I infer that we then went down to Northumberland House in the Strand to view the celebrated lion over the gateway. At all events, I know that in the act of looking up with mingled awe and admiration at that famous animal I lost Somebody.

The child’s unreasoning terror of being lost, comes as freshly on me now as it did then. I verily believe that if I had found myself astray at the North Pole instead of in the narrow, crowded, inconvenient street over which the lion in those days presided, I could not have been more horrified. But, this first fright expended itself in a little crying and tearing up and down; and then I walked, with a feeling of dismal dignity upon me, into a court, and sat down on a step to consider how to get through life.

To the best of my belief, the idea of asking my way home never came into my head. It is possible that I may, for the time, have preferred the dismal dignity of being lost; but I have a serious conviction that in the wide scope of my arrangements for the future, I had no eyes for the nearest and most obvious course. I was but very juvenile; from eight to nine years old, I fancy.

I had one and fourpence in my pocket, and a pewter ring with a bit of red glass in it on my little finger. This jewel had been presented to me by the object of my affections, on my birthday, when we had sworn to marry, but had foreseen family obstacles to our union, in her being (she was six years old) of the Wesleyan persuasion, while I was devotedly attached to the Church of England. The one and fourpence were the remains of half-a-crown presented on the same anniversary by my godfather - a man who knew his duty and did it.

Armed with these amulets, I made up my little mind to seek my fortune. When I had found it, I thought I would drive home in a coach and six, and claim my bride. I cried a little more at the idea of such a triumph, but soon dried my eyes and came out of the court to pursue my plans. These were, first to go (as a species of investment) and see the Giants in Guildhall, out of whom I felt it not improbable that some prosperous adventure would arise; failing that contingency, to try about the City for any opening of a Whittington nature; baffled in that too, to go into the army as a drummer.

So, I began to ask my way to Guildhall: which I thought meant, somehow, Gold or Golden Hall; I was too knowing to ask my way to the Giants, for I felt it would make people laugh. I remember how immensely broad the streets seemed now I was alone, how high the houses, how grand and mysterious everything. When I came to Temple Bar, it took me half an hour to stare at it, and I left it unfinished even then. I had read about heads being exposed on the top of Temple Bar, and it seemed a wicked old place, albeit a noble monument of architecture and a paragon of utility. When at last I got away from it, behold I came, the next minute, on the figures at St. Dunstan’s! Who could see those obliging monsters strike upon the bells and go? Between the quarters there was the toyshop to look at - still there, at this present writing, in a new form - and even when that enchanted spot was escaped from, after an hour and more, then Saint Paul’s arose, and how was I to get beyond its dome, or to take my eyes from its cross of gold? I found it a long journey to the Giants, and a slow one.

I came into their presence at last, and gazed up at them with dread and veneration. They looked better-tempered, and were altogether more shiny-faced, than I had expected; but they were very big, and, as I judged their pedestals to be about forty feet high, I considered that they would be very big indeed if they were walking on the stone pavement. I was in a state of mind as to these and all such figures, which I suppose holds equally with most children. While I knew them to be images made of something that was not flesh and blood, I still invested them with attributes of life - with consciousness of my being there, for example, and the power of keeping a sly eye upon me. Being very tired I got into the corner under Magog, to be out of the way of his eye, and fell asleep.

When I started up after a long nap, I thought the giants were roaring, but it was only the City. The place was just the same as when I fell asleep: no beanstalk, no fairy, no princess, no dragon, no opening in life of any kind. So, being hungry, I thought I would buy something to eat, and bring it in there and eat it, before going forth to seek my fortune on the Whittington plan.

I was not ashamed of buying a penny roll in a baker’s shop, but I looked into a number of cooks’ shops before I could muster courage to go into one. At last I saw a pile of cooked sausages in a window with the label ‘Small Germans, A Penny.’ Emboldened by knowing what to ask for, I went in and said, ‘If you please will you sell me a small German?’ which they did, and I took it, wrapped in paper in my pocket, to Guildhall.

The giants were still lying by, in their sly way, pretending to take no notice, so I sat down in another corner, when what should I see before me but a dog with his ears cocked. He was a black dog, with a bit of white over one eye, and bits of white and tan in his paws, and he wanted to play - frisking about me, rubbing his nose against me, dodging at me sideways, shaking his head and pretending to run away backwards, and making himself goodnaturedly ridiculous, as if he had no consideration for himself, but wanted to raise my spirits. Now, when I saw this dog I thought of Whittington, and felt that things were coming right; I encouraged him by saying, ‘Hi, boy!’ ‘Poor fellow!’ ‘Good dog!’ and was satisfied that he was to be my dog for ever afterwards, and that he would help me to seek my fortune.

Very much comforted by this (I had cried a little at odd times ever since I was lost), I took the small German out of my pocket, and began my dinner by biting off a bit and throwing it to the dog, who immediately swallowed it with a one-sided jerk, like a pill. While I took a bit myself, and he looked me in the face for a second piece, I considered by what name I should call him. I thought Merrychance would be an expressive name, under the circumstances; and I was elated, I recollect, by inventing such a good one, when Merrychance began to growl at me in a most ferocious manner.

I wondered he was not ashamed of himself, but he didn’t care for that; on the contrary he growled a good deal more. With his mouth watering, and his eyes glistening, and his nose in a very damp state, and his head very much on one side, he sidled about on the pavement in a threatening manner and growled at me, until he suddenly made a snap at the small German, tore it out of my hand, and went off with it. He never came back to help me seek my fortune. From that hour to the present, when I am forty years of age, I have never seen my faithful Merrychance again.

I felt very lonely. Not so much for the loss of the small German, though it was delicious (I knew nothing about highly-peppered horse at that time), as on account of Merrychance’s disappointing me so cruelly; for I had hoped he would do every friendly thing but speak, and perhaps even come to that. I cried a little more, and began to wish that the object of my affections had been lost with me, for company’s sake. But, then I remembered that she could not go into the army as a drummer; and I dried my eyes and ate my loaf. Coming out, I met a milkwoman, of whom I bought a pennyworth of milk; quite set up again by my repast, I began to roam about the City, and to seek my fortune in the Whittington direction.

When I go into the City, now, it makes me sorrowful to think that I am quite an artful wretch. Strolling about it as a lost child, I thought of the British Merchant and the Lord Mayor, and was full of reverence. Strolling about it now, I laugh at the sacred liveries of state, and get indignant with the corporation as one of the strongest practical jokes of the present day. What did I know then, about the multitude who are always being disappointed in the City; who are always expecting to meet a party there, and to receive money there, and whose expectations are never fulfilled? What did I know then, about that wonderful person, the friend in the City, who is to do so many things for so many people; who is to get this one into a post at home, and that one into a post abroad; who is to settle with this man’s creditors, provide for that man’s son, and see that other man paid; who is to ‘throw himself’ into this grand Joint-Stock certainty, and is to put his name down on that Life Assurance Directory, and never does anything predicted of him? What did I know, then, about him as the friend of gentlemen, Mosaic Arabs and others, usually to be seen at races, and chiefly residing in the neighbourhood of Red Lion Square; and as being unable to discount the whole amount of that paper in money, but as happening to have by him a cask of remarkable fine sherry, a dressing-case, and a Venus by Titian, with which he would be willing to make up the balance? Had I ever heard of him, in those innocent days, as confiding information (which never by any chance turned out to be in the remotest degree correct) to solemn bald men, who mysteriously imparted it to breathless dinner tables? No. Had I ever learned to dread him as a shark, disregard him as a humbug, and know him for a myth? Not I. Had I ever heard of him as associated with tightness in the money market, gloom in consols, the exportation of gold, or that rock ahead in everybody’s course, the bushel of wheat? Never. Had I the least idea what was meant by such terms as jobbery, rigging the market, cooking accounts, getting up a dividend, making things pleasant, and the like? Not the slightest. Should I have detected in Mr. Hudson himself, a staring carcase of golden veal? By no manner of means. The City was to me a vast emporium of precious stones and metals, casks and bales, honour and generosity, foreign fruits and spices. Every merchant and banker was a compound of Mr. Fitz-Warren and Sinbad the Sailor. Smith, Payne, and Smith, when the wind was fair for Barbary and the captain present, were in the habit of calling their servants together (the cross cook included) and asking them to produce their little shipments. Glyn and Halifax had personally undergone great hardships in the valley of diamonds. Baring Brothers had seen Rocs’ eggs and travelled with caravans. Rothschild had sat in the Bazaar at Bagdad with rich stuffs for sale; and a veiled lady from the Sultan’s harem, riding on a donkey, had fallen in love with him.

Thus I wandered about the City, like a child in a dream, staring at the British merchants, and inspired by a mighty faith in the marvellousness of everything. Up courts and down courts - in and out of yards and little squares - peeping into counting-house passages and running away - poorly feeding the echoes in the court of the South Sea House with my timid steps - roaming down into Austin Friars, and wondering how the Friars used to like it - ever staring at the British merchants, and never tired of the shops - I rambled on, all through the day. In such stories as I made, to account for the different places, I believed as devoutly as in the City itself. I particularly remember that when I found myself on ‘Change, and saw the shabby people sitting under the placards about ships, I settled that they were Misers, who had embarked all their wealth to go and buy gold-dust or something of that sort, and were waiting for their respective captains to come and tell them that they were ready to set sail. I observed that they all munched dry biscuits, and I thought it was to keep off sea-sickness.

This was very delightful; but it still produced no result according to the Whittington precedent. There was a dinner preparing at the Mansion House, and when I peeped in at a grated kitchen window, and saw the men cooks at work in their white caps, my heart began to beat with hope that the Lord Mayor, or the Lady Mayoress, or one of the young Princesses their daughters, would look out of an upper apartment and direct me to be taken in. But, nothing of the kind occurred. It was not until I had been peeping in some time that one of the cooks called to me (the window was open) ‘Cut away, you sir!’ which frightened me so, on account of his black whiskers, that I instantly obeyed.

After that, I came to the India House, and asked a boy what it was, who made faces and pulled my hair before he told me, and behaved altogether in an ungenteel and discourteous manner. Sir James Hogg himself might have been satisfied with the veneration in which I held the India House. I had no doubt of its being the most wonderful, the most magnanimous, the most incorruptible, the most practically disinterested, the most in all respects astonishing, establishment on the face of the earth. I understood the nature of an oath, and would have sworn it to be one entire and perfect chrysolite.

Thinking much about boys who went to India, and who immediately, without being sick, smoked pipes like curled-up bell-ropes, terminating in a large cut-glass sugar basin upside down, I got among the outfitting shops. There, I read the lists of things that were necessary for an India-going boy, and when I came to ‘one brace of pistols,’ thought what happiness to be reserved for such a fate! Still no British merchant seemed at all disposed to take me into his house. The only exception was a chimney-sweep - he looked at me as if he thought me suitable to his business; but I ran away from him.

I suffered very much, all day, from boys; they chased me down turnings, brought me to bay in doorways, and treated me quite savagely, though I am sure I gave them no offence. One boy, who had a stump of black-lead pencil in his pocket, wrote his mother’s name and address (as he said) on my white hat, outside the crown. MRS. BLORES, WOODEN LEG WALK, TOBACCO-STOPPER ROW, WAPPING. And I couldn’t rub it out.

I recollect resting in a little churchyard after this persecution, disposed to think upon the whole, that if I and the object of my affections could be buried there together, at once, it would be comfortable. But, another nap, and a pump, and a bun, and above all a picture that I saw, brought me round again.

I must have strayed by that time, as I recall my course, into Goodman’s fields, or somewhere thereabouts. The picture represented a scene in a play then performing at a theatre in that neighbourhood which is no longer in existence. It stimulated me to go to that theatre and see that play. I resolved, as there seemed to be nothing doing in the Whittington way, that on the conclusion of the entertainments I would ask my way to the barracks, knock at the gate, and tell them that I understood they were in want of drummers, and there I was. I think I must have been told, but I know I believed, that a soldier was always on duty, day and night, behind every barrack-gate, with a shilling; and that a boy who could by any means be prevailed on to accept it, instantly became a drummer, unless his father paid four hundred pounds.

I found out the theatre - of its external appearance I only remember the loyal initials G. R. untidily painted in yellow ochre on the front - and waited, with a pretty large crowd, for the opening of the gallery doors. The greater part of the sailors and others composing the crowd, were of the lowest description, and their conversation was not improving; but I understood little or nothing of what was bad in it then, and it had no depraving influence on me. I have wondered since, how long it would take, by means of such association, to corrupt a child nurtured as I had been, and innocent as I was.

Whenever I saw that my appearance attracted attention, either outside the doors or afterwards within the theatre, I pretended to look out for somebody who was taking care of me, and from whom I was separated, and to exchange nods and smiles with that creature of my imagination. This answered very well. I had my sixpence clutched in my hand ready to pay; and when the doors opened, with a clattering of bolts, and some screaming from women in the crowd, I went on with the current like a straw. My sixpence was rapidly swallowed up in the money-taker’s pigeon-hole, which looked to me like a sort of mouth, and I got into the freer staircase above and ran on (as everybody else did) to get a good place. When I came to the back of the gallery, there were very few people in it, and the seats looked so horribly steep, and so like a diving arrangement to send me, headforemost, into the pit, that I held by one of them in a terrible fright. However, there was a good-natured baker with a young woman, who gave me his hand, and we all three scrambled over the seats together down into the corner of the first row. The baker was very fond of the young woman, and kissed her a good deal in the course of the evening.

I was no sooner comfortably settled, than a weight fell upon my mind, which tormented it most dreadfully, and which I must explain. It was a benefit night - the benefit of the comic actor - a little fat man with a very large face and, as I thought then, the smallest and most diverting hat that ever was seen. This comedian, for the gratification of his friends and patrons, had undertaken to sing a comic song on a donkey’s back, and afterwards to give away the donkey so distinguished, by lottery. In this lottery, every person admitted to the pit and gallery had a chance. On paying my sixpence, I had received the number, fortyseven; and I now thought, in a perspiration of terror, what should I ever do if that number was to come up the prize, and I was to win the donkey!

It made me tremble all over to think of the possibility of my good fortune. I knew I never could conceal the fact of my holding forty-seven, in case that number came up, because, not to speak of my confusion, which would immediately condemn me, I had shewn my number to the baker. Then, I pictured to myself the being called upon to come down on the stage and receive the donkey. I thought how all the people would shriek when they saw it had fallen to a little fellow like me. How should I lead him out - for of course he wouldn’t go? If he began to bray, what should I do? If he kicked, what would become of me? Suppose he backed into the stage-door, and stuck there, with me upon him? For I felt that if I won him, the comic actor would have me on his back, the moment he could touch me. Then if I got him out of the theatre, what was I to do with him? How was I to feed him? Where was I to stable him? It was bad enough to have gone astray by myself, but to go astray with a donkey, too, was a calamity more tremendous than I could bear to contemplate.

These apprehensions took away all my pleasure in the first piece. When the ship came on - a real man-of-war she was called in the bills - and rolled prodigiously in a very heavy sea, I couldn’t, even in the terrors of the storm, forget the donkey. It was awful to see the sailors pitching about, with telescopes and speaking trumpets (they looked very tall indeed aboard the man-of-war), and it was awful to suspect the pilot of treachery, though impossible to avoid it, for when he cried - ‘We are lost! To the raft, to the raft! A thunderbolt has struck the mainmast!’ - I myself saw him take the main-mast out of its socket and drop it overboard; but even these impressive circumstances paled before my dread of the donkey. Even, when the good sailor (and he was very good) came to good fortune, and the bad sailor (and he was very bad) threw himself into the ocean from the summit of a curious rock, presenting something of the appearance of a pair of steps, I saw the dreadful donkey through my tears.

At last the time came when the fiddlers struck up the comic song, and the dreaded animal, with new shoes on, as I inferred from the noise they made, came clattering in with the comic actor on his back. He was dressed out with ribbons (I mean the donkey was) and as he persisted in turning his tail to the audience, the comedian got off him, turned about, and sitting with his face that way, sang the song three times, amid thunders of applause. All this time, I was fearfully agitated; and when two pale people, a good deal splashed with the mud of the streets, were invited out of the pit to superintend the drawing of the lottery, and were received with a round of laughter from everybody else, I could have begged and prayed them to have mercy on me, and not draw number forty-seven.

But, I was soon put out of my pain now, for a gentleman behind me, in a flannel jacket and a yellow neckkerchief, who had eaten two fried soles and all his pocketsfull of nuts before the storm began to rage, answered to the winning number, and went down to take possession of the prize. This gentleman had appeared to know the donkey, rather, from the moment of his entrance, and had taken a great interest in his proceedings; driving him to himself, if I use an intelligible phrase, and saying, almost in my ear, when he made any mistake, ‘Kum up, you precious Moke. Kum up!’ He was thrown by the donkey on first mounting him, to the great delight of the audience (including myself), but rode him off with great skill afterwards, and soon returned to his seat quite calm. Calmed myself by the immense relief I had sustained, I enjoyed the rest of the performance very much indeed. I remember there were a good many dances, some in fetters and some in roses, and one by a most divine little creature, who made the object of my affections look but commonplace. In the concluding drama, she re-appeared as a boy (in arms, mostly), and was fought for, several times. I rather think a Baron wanted to drown her, and was on various occasions prevented by the comedian, a ghost, a Newfoundland dog, and a church bell. I only remember beyond this, that I wondered where the Baron expected to go to, and that he went there in a shower of sparks. The lights were turned out while the sparks died out, and it appeared to me as if the whole play - ship, donkey, men and women, divine little creature, and all - were a wonderful firework that had gone off, and left nothing but dust and darkness behind it.

It was late when I got out into the streets, and there was no moon, and there were no stars, and the rain fell heavily. When I emerged from the dispersing crowd, the ghost and the baron had an ugly look in my remembrance; I felt unspeakably forlorn; and now, for the first time, my little bed and the dear familiar faces came before me, and touched my heart. By daylight, I had never thought of the grief at home. I had never thought of my mother. I had never thought of anything but adapting myself to the circumstances in which I found myself, and going to seek my fortune.

For a boy who could do nothing but cry, and run about, saying, ‘O I am lost!’ to think of going into the army was, I felt sensible, out of the question. I abandoned the idea of asking my way to the barracks - or rather the idea abandoned me - and ran about, until I found a watchman in his box. It is amazing to me, now, that he should have been sober; but I am inclined to think he was too feeble to get drunk.

This venerable man took me to the nearest watchhouse; - I say he took me, but in fact I took him, for when I think of us in the rain, I recollect that we must have made a composition, like a vignette of Infancy leading Age. He had a dreadful cough, and was obliged to lean against a wall, whenever it came on. We got at last to the watch-house, a warm and drowsy sort of place embellished with great-coats and rattles hanging up. When a paralytic messenger had been sent to make inquiries about me, I fell asleep by the fire, and awoke no more until my eyes opened on my father’s face. This is literally and exactly how I went astray. They used to say I was an odd child, and I suppose I was. I am an odd man perhaps.

Shade of Somebody, forgive me for the disquiet I must have caused thee! When I stand beneath the Lion, even now, I see thee rushing up and down, refusing to be comforted. I have gone astray since, many times, and farther afield. May I therein have given less disquiet to others, than herein I gave to thee!

Chatham Dockyard

There are some small out-of-the-way landing-places on the Thames and the Medway, where I do much of my summer idling. Running water is favourable to day-dreams, and a strong tidal river is the best of running water for mine. I like to watch the great ships standing out to sea or coming home richly laden, the active little steam-tugs confidently puffing with them to and from the sea-horizon, the fleet of barges that seem to have plucked their brown and russet sails from the ripe trees in the landscape, the heavy old colliers, light in ballast, floundering down before the tide, the light screw barks and schooners imperiously holding a straight course while the others patiently tack and go about, the yachts with their tiny hulls and great white sheets of canvas, the little sailing-boats bobbing to and fro on their errands of pleasure or business, and - as it is the nature of little people to do - making a prodigious fuss about their small affairs. Watching these objects, I still am under no obligation to think about them, or even so much as to see them, unless it perfectly suits my humour. As little am I obliged to hear the plash and flop of the tide, the ripple at my feet, the clinking windlass afar off, or the humming steam-ship paddles further away yet. These, with the creaking little jetty on which I sit, and the gaunt high-water marks and low-water marks in the mud, and the broken causeway, and the broken bank, and the broken stakes and piles leaning forward as if they were vain of their personal appearance and looking for their reflection in the water, will melt into any train of fancy. Equally adaptable to any purpose or to none, are the pasturing sheep and kine upon the marshes, the gulls that wheel and dip around me, the crows (well out of gunshot) going home from the rich harvest-fields, the heron that has been out a-fishing and looks as melancholy, up there in the sky, as if it hadn’t agreed with him. Everything within the range of the senses will, by the aid of the running water, lend itself to everything beyond that range, and work into a drowsy whole, not unlike a kind of tune, but for which there is no exact definition.

One of these landing-places is near an old fort (I can see the Nore Light from it with my pocket-glass), from which fort mysteriously emerges a boy, to whom I am much indebted for additions to my scanty stock of knowledge. He is a young boy, with an intelligent face burnt to a dust colour by the summer sun, and with crisp hair of the same hue. He is a boy in whom I have perceived nothing incompatible with habits of studious inquiry and meditation, unless an evanescent black eye (I was delicate of inquiring how occasioned) should be so considered. To him am I indebted for ability to identify a Custom-house boat at any distance, and for acquaintance with all the forms and ceremonies observed by a homeward-bound Indiaman coming up the river, when the Custom-house officers go aboard her. But for him, I might never have heard of ‘the dumbague,’ respecting which malady I am now learned. Had I never sat at his feet, I might have finished my mortal career and never known that when I see a white horse on a barge’s sail, that barge is a lime barge. For precious secrets in reference to beer, am I likewise beholden to him, involving warning against the beer of a certain establishment, by reason of its having turned sour through failure in point of demand: though my young sage is not of the opinion that similar deterioration has befallen the ale. He has also enlightened me touching the mushrooms of the marshes, and has gently reproved my ignorance in having supposed them to be impregnated with salt. His manner of imparting information, is thoughtful, and appropriate to the scene. As he reclines beside me, he pitches into the river, a little stone or piece of grit, and then delivers himself oracularly, as though he spoke out of the centre of the spreading circle that it makes in the water. He never improves my mind without observing this formula.

With the wise boy - whom I know by no other name than the Spirit of the Fort - I recently consorted on a breezy day when the river leaped about us and was full of life. I had seen the sheaved corn carrying in the golden fields as I came down to the river; and the rosy farmer, watching his labouring-men in the saddle on his cob, had told me how he had reaped his two hundred and sixty acres of long-strawed corn last week, and how a better week’s work he had never done in all his days. Peace and abundance were on the country-side in beautiful forms and beautiful colours, and the harvest seemed even to be sailing out to grace the never-reaped sea in the yellowladen barges that mellowed the distance.

It was on this occasion that the Spirit of the Fort, directing his remarks to a certain floating iron battery lately lying in that reach of the river, enriched my mind with his opinions on naval architecture, and informed me that he would like to be an engineer. I found him up to everything that is done in the contracting line by Messrs. Peto and Brassey - cunning in the article of concrete - mellow in the matter of iron - great on the subject of gunnery. When he spoke of pile-driving and sluice-making, he left me not a leg to stand on, and I can never sufficiently acknowledge his forbearance with me in my disabled state. While he thus discoursed, he several times directed his eyes to one distant quarter of the landscape, and spoke with vague mysterious awe of ‘the Yard.’ Pondering his lessons after we had parted, I bethought me that the Yard was one of our large public Dockyards, and that it lay hidden among the crops down in the dip behind the windmills, as if it modestly kept itself out of view in peaceful times, and sought to trouble no man. Taken with this modesty on the part of the Yard, I resolved to improve the Yard’s acquaintance.

My good opinion of the Yard’s retiring character was not dashed by nearer approach. It resounded with the noise of hammers beating upon iron; and the great sheds or slips under which the mighty men-of-war are built, loomed business-like when contemplated from the opposite side of the river. For all that, however, the Yard made no display, but kept itself snug under hill-sides of cornfields, hop-gardens, and orchards; its great chimneys smoking with a quiet - almost a lazy - air, like giants smoking tobacco; and the great Shears moored off it, looking meekly and inoffensively out of proportion, like the Giraffe of the machinery creation. The store of cannon on the neighbouring gun-wharf, had an innocent toy-like appearance, and the one red-coated sentry on duty over them was a mere toy figure, with a clock-work movement. As the hot sunlight sparkled on him he might have passed for the identical little man who had the little gun, and whose bullets they were made of lead, lead, lead.

Crossing the river and landing at the Stairs, where a drift of chips and weed had been trying to land before me and had not succeeded, but had got into a corner instead, I found the very street posts to be cannon, and the architectural ornaments to be shells. And so I came to the Yard, which was shut up tight and strong with great folded gates, like an enormous patent safe. These gates devouring me, I became digested into the Yard; and it had, at first, a clean-swept holiday air, as if it had given over work until next war-time. Though indeed a quantity of hemp for rope was tumbling out of store-houses, even there, which would hardly be lying like so much hay on the white stones if the Yard were as placid as it pretended.

Ding, Clash, Dong, BANG, Boom, Rattle, Clash, BANG, Clink, BANG, Dong, BANG, Clatter, BANG BANG BANG! What on earth is this! This is, or soon will be, the Achilles, iron armour-plated ship. Twelve hundred men are working at her now; twelve hundred men working on stages over her sides, over her bows, over her stern, under her keel, between her decks, down in her hold, within her and without, crawling and creeping into the finest curves of her lines wherever it is possible for men to twist. Twelve hundred hammerers, measurers, caulkers, armourers, forgers, smiths, shipwrights; twelve hundred dingers, clashers, dongers, rattlers, clinkers, bangers bangers bangers! Yet all this stupendous uproar around the rising Achilles is as nothing to the reverberations with which the perfected Achilles shall resound upon the dreadful day when the full work is in hand for which this is but note of preparation - the day when the scuppers that are now fitting like great dry thirsty conduit-pipes, shall run red. All these busy figures between decks, dimly seen bending at their work in smoke and fire, are as nothing to the figures that shall do work here of another kind in smoke and fire, that day. These steam-worked engines alongside, helping the ship by travelling to and fro, and wafting tons of iron plates about, as though they were so many leaves of trees, would be rent limb from limb if they stood by her for a minute then. To think that this Achilles, monstrous compound of iron tank and oaken chest, can ever swim or roll! To think that any force of wind and wave could ever break her! To think that wherever I see a glowing red-hot iron point thrust out of her side from within - as I do now, there, and there, and there! - and two watching men on a stage without, with bared arms and sledge-hammers, strike at it fiercely, and repeat their blows until it is black and flat, I see a rivet being driven home, of which there are many in every iron plate, and thousands upon thousands in the ship! To think that the difficulty I experience in appreciating the ship’s size when I am on board, arises from her being a series of iron tanks and oaken chests, so that internally she is ever finishing and ever beginning, and half of her might be smashed, and yet the remaining half suffice and be sound. Then, to go over the side again and down among the ooze and wet to the bottom of the dock, in the depths of the subterranean forest of dog-shores and stays that hold her up, and to see the immense mass bulging out against the upper light, and tapering down towards me, is, with great pains and much clambering, to arrive at an impossibility of realising that this is a ship at all, and to become possessed by the fancy that it is an enormous immovable edifice set up in an ancient amphitheatre (say, that at Verona), and almost filling it! Yet what would even these things be, without the tributary workshops and the mechanical powers for piercing the iron plates - four inches and a half thick - for rivets, shaping them under hydraulic pressure to the finest tapering turns of the ship’s lines, and paring them away, with knives shaped like the beaks of strong and cruel birds, to the nicest requirements of the design! These machines of tremendous force, so easily directed by one attentive face and presiding hand, seem to me to have in them something of the retiring character of the Yard. ‘Obedient monster, please to bite this mass of iron through and through, at equal distances, where these regular chalk-marks are, all round.’ Monster looks at its work, and lifting its ponderous head, replies, ‘I don’t particularly want to do it; but if it must be done--!’ The solid metal wriggles out, hot from the monster’s crunching tooth, and it is done. ‘Dutiful monster, observe this other mass of iron. It is required to be pared away, according to this delicately lessening and arbitrary line, which please to look at.’ Monster (who has been in a reverie) brings down its blunt head, and, much in the manner of Doctor Johnson, closely looks along the line - very closely, being somewhat near-sighted. ‘I don’t particularly want to do it; but if it must be done—!’ Monster takes another near-sighted look, takes aim, and the tortured piece writhes off, and falls, a hot tighttwisted snake, among the ashes. The making of the rivets is merely a pretty round game, played by a man and a boy, who put red-hot barley sugar in a Pope Joan board, and immediately rivets fall out of window; but the tone of the great machines is the tone of the great Yard and the great country: ‘We don’t particularly want to do it; but if it must be done—!’

How such a prodigious mass as the Achilles can ever be held by such comparatively little anchors as those intended for her and lying near her here, is a mystery of seamanship which I will refer to the wise boy. For my own part, I should as soon have thought of tethering an elephant to a tentpeg, or the larger hippopotamus in the Zoological Gardens to my shirt-pin. Yonder in the river, alongside a hulk, lie two of this ship’s hollow iron masts. They are large enough for the eye, I find, and so are all her other appliances. I wonder why only her anchors look small.

I have no present time to think about it, for I am going to see the workshops where they make all the oars used in the British Navy. A pretty large pile of building, I opine, and a pretty long job! As to the building, I am soon disappointed, because the work is all done in one loft. And as to a long job - what is this? Two rather large mangles with a swarm of butterflies hovering over them? What can there be in the mangles that attracts butterflies?

Drawing nearer, I discern that these are not mangles, but intricate machines, set with knives and saws and planes, which cut smooth and straight here, and slantwise there, and now cut such a depth, and now miss cutting altogether, according to the predestined requirements of the pieces of wood that are pushed on below them: each of which pieces is to be an oar, and is roughly adapted to that purpose before it takes its final leave of far-off forests, and sails for England. Likewise I discern that the butterflies are not true butterflies, but wooden shavings, which, being spirited up from the wood by the violence of the machinery, and kept in rapid and not equal movement by the impulse of its rotation on the air, flutter and play, and rise and fall, and conduct themselves as like butterflies as heart could wish. Suddenly the noise and motion cease, and the butterflies drop dead. An oar has been made since I came in, wanting the shaped handle. As quickly as I can follow it with my eye and thought, the same oar is carried to a turning lathe. A whirl and a nick! Handle made. Oar finished.

The exquisite beauty and efficiency of this machinery need no illustration, but happen to have a pointed illustration to-day. A pair of oars of unusual size chance to be wanted for a special purpose, and they have to be made by hand. Side by side with the subtle and facile machine, and side by side with the fast-growing pile of oars on the floor, a man shapes out these special oars with an axe. Attended by no butterflies, and chipping and dinting, by comparison as leisurely as if he were a labouring Pagan getting them ready against his decease at threescore and ten, to take with him as a present to Charon for his boat, the man (aged about thirty) plies his task. The machine would make a regulation oar while the man wipes his forehead. The man might be buried in a mound made of the strips of thin broad wooden ribbon torn from the wood whirled into oars as the minutes fall from the clock, before he had done a forenoon’s work with his axe.

Passing from this wonderful sight to the Ships again - for my heart, as to the Yard, is where the ships are - I notice certain unfinished wooden walls left seasoning on the stocks, pending the solution of the merits of the wood and iron question, and having an air of biding their time with surly confidence. The names of these worthies are set up beside them, together with their capacity in guns - a custom highly conducive to ease and satisfaction in social intercourse, if it could be adapted to mankind. By a plank more gracefully pendulous than substantial, I make bold to go aboard a transport ship (iron screw) just sent in from the contractor’s yard to be inspected and passed. She is a very gratifying experience, in the simplicity and humanity of her arrangements for troops, in her provision for light and air and cleanliness, and in her care for women and children. It occurs to me, as I explore her, that I would require a handsome sum of money to go aboard her, at midnight by the Dockyard bell, and stay aboard alone till morning; for surely she must be haunted by a crowd of ghosts of obstinate old martinets, mournfully flapping their cherubic epaulettes over the changed times. Though still we may learn from the astounding ways and means in our Yards now, more highly than ever to respect the forefathers who got to sea, and fought the sea, and held the sea, without them. This remembrance putting me in the best of tempers with an old hulk, very green as to her copper, and generally dim and patched, I pull off my hat to her. Which salutation a callow and downy-faced young officer of Engineers, going by at the moment, perceiving, appropriates - and to which he is most heartily welcome, I am sure.

Having been torn to pieces (in imagination) by the steam circular saws, perpendicular saws, horizontal saws, and saws of eccentric action, I come to the sauntering part of my expedition, and consequently to the core of my Uncommercial pursuits.

Everywhere, as I saunter up and down the Yard, I meet with tokens of its quiet and retiring character. There is a gravity upon its red brick offices and houses, a staid pretence of having nothing worth mentioning to do, an avoidance of display, which I never saw out of England. The white stones of the pavement present no other trace of Achilles and his twelve hundred banging men (not one of whom strikes an attitude) than a few occasional echoes. But for a whisper in the air suggestive of sawdust and shavings, the oar-making and the saws of many movements might be miles away. Down below here, is the great reservoir of water where timber is steeped in various temperatures, as a part of its seasoning process. Above it, on a tramroad supported by pillars, is a Chinese Enchanter’s Car, which fishes the logs up, when sufficiently steeped, and rolls smoothly away with them to stack them. When I was a child (the Yard being then familiar to me) I used to think that I should like to play at Chinese Enchanter, and to have that apparatus placed at my disposal for the purpose by a beneficent country. I still think that I should rather like to try the effect of writing a book in it. Its retirement is complete, and to go gliding to and fro among the stacks of timber would be a convenient kind of travelling in foreign countries - among the forests of North America, the sodden Honduras swamps, the dark pine woods, the Norwegian frosts, and the tropical heats, rainy seasons, and thunder-storms. The costly store of timber is stacked and stowed away in sequestered places, with the pervading avoidance of flourish or effect. It makes as little of itself as possible, and calls to no one ‘Come and look at me!’ And yet it is picked out from the trees of the world; picked out for length, picked out for breadth, picked out for straightness, picked out for crookedness, chosen with an eye to every need of ship and boat. Strangely twisted pieces lie about, precious in the sight of shipwrights. Sauntering through these groves, I come upon an open glade where workmen are examining some timber recently delivered. Quite a pastoral scene, with a background of river and windmill! and no more like War than the American States are at present like an Union.

Sauntering among the ropemaking, I am spun into a state of blissful indolence, wherein my rope of life seems to be so untwisted by the process as that I can see back to very early days indeed, when my bad dreams - they were frightful, though my more mature understanding has never made out why - were of an interminable sort of ropemaking, with long minute filaments for strands, which, when they were spun home together close to my eyes, occasioned screaming. Next, I walk among the quiet lofts of stores - of sails, spars, rigging, ships’ boats - determined to believe that somebody in authority wears a girdle and bends beneath the weight of a massive bunch of keys, and that, when such a thing is wanted, he comes telling his keys like Blue Beard, and opens such a door. Impassive as the long lofts look, let the electric battery send down the word, and the shutters and doors shall fly open, and such a fleet of armed ships, under steam and under sail, shall burst forth as will charge the old Medway - where the merry Stuart let the Dutch come, while his not so merry sailors starved in the streets - with something worth looking at to carry to the sea. Thus I idle round to the Medway again, where it is now flood tide; and I find the river evincing a strong solicitude to force a way into the dry dock where Achilles is waited on by the twelve hundred bangers, with intent to bear the whole away before they are ready.

To the last, the Yard puts a quiet face upon it; for I make my way to the gates through a little quiet grove of trees, shading the quaintest of Dutch landing-places, where the leaf-speckled shadow of a shipwright just passing away at the further end might be the shadow of Russian Peter himself. So, the doors of the great patent safe at last close upon me, and I take boat again: somehow, thinking as the oars dip, of braggart Pistol and his brood, and of the quiet monsters of the Yard, with their ‘We don’t particularly want to do it; but if it must be done—!’ Scrunch.

Wapping Workhouse

My day’s no-business beckoning me to the East-end of London, I had turned my face to that point of the metropolitan compass on leaving Covent-garden, and had got past the India House, thinking in my idle manner of Tippoo-Sahib and Charles Lamb, and had got past my little wooden midshipman, after affectionately patting him on one leg of his knee-shorts for old acquaintance’ sake, and had got past Aldgate Pump, and had got past the Saracen’s Head (with an ignominious rash of posting bills disfiguring his swarthy countenance), and had strolled up the empty yard of his ancient neighbour the Black or Blue Boar, or Bull, who departed this life I don’t know when, and whose coaches are all gone I don’t know where; and I had come out again into the age of railways, and I had got past Whitechapel Church, and was - rather inappropriately for an Uncommercial Traveller - in the Commercial Road. Pleasantly wallowing in the abundant mud of that thoroughfare, and greatly enjoying the huge piles of building belonging to the sugar refiners, the little masts and vanes in small back gardens in back streets, the neighbouring canals and docks, the India vans lumbering along their stone tramway, and the pawnbrokers’ shops where hard-up Mates had pawned so many sextants and quadrants, that I should have bought a few cheap if I had the least notion how to use them, I at last began to file off to the right, towards Wapping.

Not that I intended to take boat at Wapping Old Stairs, or that I was going to look at the locality, because I believe (for I don’t) in the constancy of the young woman who told her sea-going lover, to such a beautiful old tune, that she had ever continued the same, since she gave him the ‘baccer-box marked with his name; I am afraid he usually got the worst of those transactions, and was frightfully taken in. No, I was going to Wapping, because an Eastern police magistrate had said, through the morning papers, that there was no classification at the Wapping workhouse for women, and that it was a disgrace and a shame, and divers other hard names, and because I wished to see how the fact really stood. For, that Eastern police magistrates are not always the wisest men of the East, may be inferred from their course of procedure respecting the fancy-dressing and pantomime-posturing at St.George’s in that quarter: which is usually, to discuss the matter at issue, in a state of mind betokening the weakest perplexity, with all parties concerned and unconcerned, and, for a final expedient, to consult the complainant as to what he thinks ought to be done with the defendant, and take the defendant’s opinion as to what he would recommend to be done with himself.

Long before I reached Wapping, I gave myself up as having lost my way, and, abandoning myself to the narrow streets in a Turkish frame of mind, relied on predestination to bring me somehow or other to the place I wanted if I were ever to get there. When I had ceased for an hour or so to take any trouble about the matter, I found myself on a swing-bridge looking down at some dark locks in some dirty water. Over against me, stood a creature remotely in the likeness of a young man, with a puffed sallow face, and a figure all dirty and shiny and slimy, who may have been the youngest son of his filthy old father, Thames, or the drowned man about whom there was a placard on the granite post like a large thimble, that stood between us.

I asked this apparition what it called the place? Unto which, it replied, with a ghastly grin and a sound like gurgling water in its throat:

‘Mr. Baker’s trap.’

As it is a point of great sensitiveness with me on such occasions to be equal to the intellectual pressure of the conversation, I deeply considered the meaning of this speech, while I eyed the apparition - then engaged in hugging and sucking a horizontal iron bar at the top of the locks. Inspiration suggested to me that Mr. Baker was the acting coroner of that neighbourhood.

‘A common place for suicide,’ said I, looking down at the locks.

‘Sue?’ returned the ghost, with a stare. ‘Yes! And Poll. Likewise Emily. And Nancy. And Jane;’ he sucked the iron between each name; ‘and all the bileing. Ketches off their bonnets or shorls, takes a run, and headers down here, they doos. Always a headerin’ down here, they is. Like one o’clock.’

‘And at about that hour of the morning, I suppose?’

‘Ah!’ said the apparition. ‘They an’t partickler. Two ’ull do for them. Three. All times o’ night. On’y mind you!’ Here the apparition rested his profile on the bar, and gurgled in a sarcastic manner. ‘There must be somebody comin’. They don’t go a headerin’ down here, wen there an’t no Bobby nor gen’ral Cove, fur to hear the splash.’

According to my interpretation of these words, I was myself a General Cove, or member of the miscellaneous public. In which modest character I remarked:

‘They are often taken out, are they, and restored?’

‘I dunno about restored,’ said the apparition, who, for some occult reason, very much objected to that word; ‘they’re carried into the werkiss and put into a ‘ot bath, and brought round. But I dunno about restored,’ said the apparition; ‘blow that!’ - and vanished.

As it had shown a desire to become offensive, I was not sorry to find myself alone, especially as the ‘werkiss’ it had indicated with a twist of its matted head, was close at hand. So I left Mr. Baker’s terrible trap (baited with a scum that was like the soapy rinsing of sooty chimneys), and made bold to ring at the workhouse gate, where I was wholly unexpected and quite unknown.

A very bright and nimble little matron, with a bunch of keys in her hand, responded to my request to see the House. I began to doubt whether the police magistrate was quite right in his facts, when I noticed her quick active little figure and her intelligent eyes.

The Traveller (the matron intimated) should see the worst first. He was welcome to see everything. Such as it was, there it all was.

This was the only preparation for our entering ‘the Foul wards.’ They were in an old building squeezed away in a corner of a paved yard, quite detached from the more modern and spacious main body of the workhouse. They were in a building most monstrously behind the time - a mere series of garrets or lofts, with every inconvenient and objectionable circumstance in their construction, and only accessible by steep and narrow staircases, infamously ill-adapted for the passage up-stairs of the sick or down-stairs of the dead.

A-bed in these miserable rooms, here on bedsteads, there (for a change, as I understood it) on the floor, were women in every stage of distress and disease. None but those who have attentively observed such scenes, can conceive the extraordinary variety of expression still latent under the general monotony and uniformity of colour, attitude, and condition. The form a little coiled up and turned away, as though it had turned its back on this world for ever; the uninterested face at once lead-coloured and yellow, looking passively upward from the pillow; the haggard mouth a little dropped, the hand outside the coverlet, so dull and indifferent, so light, and yet so heavy; these were on every pallet; but when I stopped beside a bed, and said ever so slight a word to the figure lying there, the ghost of the old character came into the face, and made the Foul ward as various as the fair world. No one appeared to care to live, but no one complained; all who could speak, said that as much was done for them as could be done there, that the attendance was kind and patient, that their suffering was very heavy, but they had nothing to ask for. The wretched rooms were as clean and sweet as it is possible for such rooms to be; they would become a pest-house in a single week, if they were ill-kept.

I accompanied the brisk matron up another barbarous staircase, into a better kind of loft devoted to the idiotic and imbecile. There was at least Light in it, whereas the windows in the former wards had been like sides of school-boys’ bird-cages. There was a strong grating over the fire here, and, holding a kind of state on either side of the hearth, separated by the breadth of this grating, were two old ladies in a condition of feeble dignity, which was surely the very last and lowest reduction of self-complacency, to be found in this wonderful humanity of ours. They were evidently jealous of each other, and passed their whole time (as some people do, whose fires are not grated) in mentally disparaging each other, and contemptuously watching their neighbours. One of these parodies on provincial gentlewomen was extremely talkative, and expressed a strong desire to attend the service on Sundays, from which she represented herself to have derived the greatest interest and consolation when allowed that privilege. She gossiped so well, and looked altogether so cheery and harmless, that I began to think this a case for the Eastern magistrate, until I found that on the last occasion of her attending chapel she had secreted a small stick, and had caused some confusion in the responses by suddenly producing it and belabouring the congregation.

So, these two old ladies, separated by the breadth of the grating - otherwise they would fly at one another’s caps - sat all day long, suspecting one another, and contemplating a world of fits. For, everybody else in the room had fits, except the wards-woman; an elderly, ablebodied pauperess, with a large upper lip, and an air of repressing and saving her strength, as she stood with her hands folded before her, and her eyes slowly rolling, biding her time for catching or holding somebody. This civil personage (in whom I regretted to identify a reduced member of my honourable friend Mrs. Gamp’s family) said, ‘They has ’em continiwal, sir. They drops without no more notice than if they was coach-horses dropped from the moon, sir. And when one drops, another drops, and sometimes there’ll be as many as four or five on ’em at once, dear me, a rolling and a tearin’, bless you! - this young woman, now, has ’em dreadful bad.’

She turned up this young woman’s face with her hand as she said it. This young woman was seated on the floor, pondering in the foreground of the afflicted. There was nothing repellant either in her face or head. Many, apparently worse, varieties of epilepsy and hysteria were about her, but she was said to be the worst here. When I had spoken to her a little, she still sat with her face turned up, pondering, and a gleam of the mid-day sun shone in upon her.

- Whether this young woman, and the rest of these so sorely troubled, as they sit or lie pondering in their confused dull way, ever get mental glimpses among the motes in the sunlight, of healthy people and healthy things? Whether this young woman, brooding like this in the summer season, ever thinks that somewhere there are trees and flowers, even mountains and the great sea? Whether, not to go so far, this young woman ever has any dim revelation of that young woman - that young woman who is not here and never will come here; who is courted, and caressed, and loved, and has a husband, and bears children, and lives in a home, and who never knows what it is to have this lashing and tearing coming upon her? And whether this young woman, God help her, gives herself up then and drops like a coach-horse from the moon?

I hardly knew whether the voices of infant children, penetrating into so hopeless a place, made a sound that was pleasant or painful to me. It was something to be reminded that the weary world was not all aweary, and was ever renewing itself; but, this young woman was a child not long ago, and a child not long hence might be such as she. Howbeit, the active step and eye of the vigilant matron conducted me past the two provincial gentlewomen (whose dignity was ruffled by the children), and into the adjacent nursery.

There were many babies here, and more than one handsome young mother. There were ugly young mothers also, and sullen young mothers, and callous young mothers. But, the babies had not appropriated to themselves any bad expression yet, and might have been, for anything that appeared to the contrary in their soft faces, Princes Imperial, and Princesses Royal. I had the pleasure of giving a poetical commission to the baker’s man to make a cake with all despatch and toss it into the oven for one red-headed young pauper and myself, and felt much the better for it. Without that refreshment, I doubt if I should have been in a condition for ‘the Refractories,’ towards whom my quick little matron - for whose adaptation to her office I had by this time conceived a genuine respect - drew me next, and marshalled me the way that I was going.

The Refractories were picking oakum, in a small room giving on a yard. They sat in line on a form, with their backs to a window; before them, a table, and their work. The oldest Refractory was, say twenty; youngest Refractory, say sixteen. I have never yet ascertained in the course of my uncommercial travels, why a Refractory habit should affect the tonsils and uvula; but, I have always observed that Refractories of both sexes and every grade, between a Ragged School and the Old Bailey, have one voice, in which the tonsils and uvula gain a diseased ascendency.

‘Five pound indeed! I hain’t a going fur to pick five pound,’ said the Chief of the Refractories, keeping time to herself with her head and chin. ‘More than enough to pick what we picks now, in sich a place as this, and on wot we gets here!’

(This was in acknowledgment of a delicate intimation that the amount of work was likely to be increased. It certainly was not heavy then, for one Refractory had already done her day’s task - it was barely two o’clock - and was sitting behind it, with a head exactly matching it.)

‘A pretty Ouse this is, matron, ain’t it?’ said Refractory Two, ‘where a pleeseman’s called in, if a gal says a word!’

‘And wen you’re sent to prison for nothink or less!’ said the Chief, tugging at her oakum as if it were the matron’s hair. ‘But any place is better than this; that’s one thing, and be thankful!’

A laugh of Refractories led by Oakum Head with folded arms - who originated nothing, but who was in command of the skirmishers outside the conversation.

‘If any place is better than this,’ said my brisk guide, in the calmest manner, ‘it is a pity you left a good place when you had one.’

‘Ho, no, I didn’t, matron,’ returned the Chief, with another pull at her oakum, and a very expressive look at the enemy’s forehead. ‘Don’t say that, matron, cos it’s lies!’

Oakum Head brought up the skirmishers again, skirmished, and retired.

‘And I warn’t a going,’ exclaimed Refractory Two, ‘though I was in one place for as long as four year - I warn’t a going fur to stop in a place that warn’t fit for me - there! And where the family warn’t ’spectable characters - there! And where I fort’nately or hunfort’nately, found that the people warn’t what they pretended to make theirselves out to be - there! And where it wasn’t their faults, by chalks, if I warn’t made bad and ruinated - Hah!’

During this speech, Oakum Head had again made a diversion with the skirmishers, and had again withdrawn.

The Uncommercial Traveller ventured to remark that he supposed Chief Refractory and Number One, to be the two young women who had been taken before the magistrate?

‘Yes!’ said the Chief, ‘we har! and the wonder is, that a pleeseman an’t ’ad in now, and we took off agen. You can’t open your lips here, without a pleeseman.’

Number Two laughed (very uvularly), and the skirmishers followed suit.

‘I’m sure I’d be thankful,’ protested the Chief, looking sideways at the Uncommercial, ‘if I could be got into a place, or got abroad. I’m sick and tired of this precious Ouse, I am, with reason.’

So would be, and so was, Number Two. So would be, and so was, Oakum Head. So would be, and so were, Skirmishers.

The Uncommercial took the liberty of hinting that he hardly thought it probable that any lady or gentleman in want of a likely young domestic of retiring manners, would be tempted into the engagement of either of the two leading Refractories, on her own presentation of herself as per sample.

‘It ain’t no good being nothink else here,’ said the Chief.

The Uncommercial thought it might be worth trying.

‘Oh no, it ain’t,’ said the Chief.

‘Not a bit of good,’ said Number Two.

‘And I’m sure I’d be very thankful to be got into a place, or got abroad,’ said the Chief.

‘And so should I,’ said Number Two. ‘Truly thankful, I should.’

Oakum Head then rose, and announced as an entirely new idea, the mention of which profound novelty might be naturally expected to startle her unprepared hearers, that she would be very thankful to be got into a place, or got abroad. And, as if she had then said, ‘Chorus, ladies!’ all the Skirmishers struck up to the same purpose. We left them, thereupon, and began a long walk among the women who were simply old and infirm; but whenever, in the course of this same walk, I looked out of any high window that commanded the yard, I saw Oakum Head and all the other Refractories looking out at their low window for me, and never failing to catch me, the moment I showed my head.

In ten minutes I had ceased to believe in such fables of a golden time as youth, the prime of life, or a hale old age. In ten minutes, all the lights of womankind seemed to have been blown out, and nothing in that way to be left this vault to brag of, but the flickering and expiring snuffs.

And what was very curious, was, that these dim old women had one company notion which was the fashion of the place. Every old woman who became aware of a visitor and was not in bed hobbled over a form into her accustomed seat, and became one of a line of dim old women confronting another line of dim old women across a narrow table. There was no obligation whatever upon them to range themselves in this way; it was their manner of ‘receiving.’ As a rule, they made no attempt to talk to one another, or to look at the visitor, or to look at anything, but sat silently working their mouths, like a sort of poor old Cows. In some of these wards, it was good to see a few green plants; in others, an isolated Refractory acting as nurse, who did well enough in that capacity, when separated from her compeers; every one of these wards, day room, night room, or both combined, was scrupulously clean and fresh. I have seen as many such places as most travellers in my line, and I never saw one such, better kept.

Among the bedridden there was great patience, great reliance on the books under the pillow, great faith in GOD. All cared for sympathy, but none much cared to be encouraged with hope of recovery; on the whole, I should say, it was considered rather a distinction to have a complication of disorders, and to be in a worse way than the rest. From some of the windows, the river could be seen with all its life and movement; the day was bright, but I came upon no one who was looking out.

In one large ward, sitting by the fire in arm-chairs of distinction, like the President and Vice of the good company, were two old women, upwards of ninety years of age. The younger of the two, just turned ninety, was deaf, but not very, and could easily be made to hear. In her early time she had nursed a child, who was now another old woman, more infirm than herself, inhabiting the very same chamber. She perfectly understood this when the matron told it, and, with sundry nods and motions of her forefinger, pointed out the woman in question. The elder of this pair, ninety-three, seated before an illustrated newspaper (but not reading it), was a bright-eyed old soul, really not deaf, wonderfully preserved, and amazingly conversational. She had not long lost her husband, and had been in that place little more than a year. At Boston, in the State of Massachusetts, this poor creature would have been individually addressed, would have been tended in her own room, and would have had her life gently assimilated to a comfortable life out of doors. Would that be much to do in England for a woman who has kept herself out of a workhouse more than ninety rough long years? When Britain first, at Heaven’s command, arose, with a great deal of allegorical confusion, from out the azure main, did her guardian angels positively forbid it in the Charter which has been so much besung?

The object of my journey was accomplished when the nimble matron had no more to show me. As I shook hands with her at the gate, I told her that I thought Justice had not used her very well, and that the wise men of the East were not infallible.

Now, I reasoned with myself, as I made my journey home again, concerning those Foul wards. They ought not to exist; no person of common decency and humanity can see them and doubt it. But what is this Union to do? The necessary alteration would cost several thousands of pounds; it has already to support three workhouses; its inhabitants work hard for their bare lives, and are already rated for the relief of the Poor to the utmost extent of reasonable endurance. One poor parish in this very Union is rated to the amount of FIVE AND SIXPENCE in the pound, at the very same time when the rich parish of Saint George’s, Hanover-square, is rated at about SEVENPENCE in the pound, Paddington at about FOURPENCE, Saint James’s, Westminster, at about TENPENCE! It is only through the equalisation of Poor Rates that what is left undone in this wise, can be done. Much more is left undone, or is ill-done, than I have space to suggest in these notes of a single uncommercial journey; but, the wise men of the East, before they can reasonably hold forth about it, must look to the North and South and West; let them also, any morning before taking the seat of Solomon, look into the shops and dwellings all around the Temple, and first ask themselves ‘how much more can these poor people - many of whom keep themselves with difficulty enough out of the workhouse - bear?’

I had yet other matter for reflection as I journeyed home, inasmuch as, before I altogether departed from the neighbourhood of Mr. Baker’s trap, I had knocked at the gate of the workhouse of St. George’s-in-the-East, and had found it to be an establishment highly creditable to those parts, and thoroughly well administered by a most intelligent master. I remarked in it, an instance of the collateral harm that obstinate vanity and folly can do. ‘This was the Hall where those old paupers, male and female, whom I had just seen, met for the Church service, was it?’ - ‘Yes.’ - ‘Did they sing the Psalms to any instrument?’ - ‘They would like to, very much; they would have an extraordinary interest in doing so.’ - ‘And could none be got?’ - ‘Well, a piano could even have been got for nothing, but these unfortunate dissensions—’ Ah! better, far better, my Christian friend in the beautiful garment, to have let the singing boys alone, and left the multitude to sing for themselves! You should know better than I, but I think I have read that they did so, once upon a time, and that ‘when they had sung an hymn,’ Some one (not in a beautiful garment) went up unto the Mount of Olives.

It made my heart ache to think of this miserable trifling, in the streets of a city where every stone seemed to call to me, as I walked along, ‘Turn this way, man, and see what waits to be done!’ So I decoyed myself into another train of thought to ease my heart. But, I don’t know that I did it, for I was so full of paupers, that it was, after all, only a change to a single pauper, who took possession of my remembrance instead of a thousand.

‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ he had said, in a confidential manner, on another occasion, taking me aside; ‘but I have seen better days.’

‘I am very sorry to hear it.’

‘Sir, I have a complaint to make against the master.’

‘I have no power here, I assure you. And if I had—’

‘But, allow me, sir, to mention it, as between yourself and a man who has seen better days, sir. The master and myself are both masons, sir, and I make him the sign continually; but, because I am in this unfortunate position, sir, he won’t give me the countersign!’

A Small Star in the East

I had been looking, yesternight, through the famous ‘Dance of Death,’ and to-day the grim old woodcuts arose in my mind with the new significance of a ghastly monotony not to be found in the original. The weird skeleton rattled along the streets before me, and struck fiercely; but it was never at the pains of assuming a disguise. It played on no dulcimer here, was crowned with no flowers, waved no plume, minced in no flowing robe or train, lifted no winecup, sat at no feast, cast no dice, counted no gold. It was simply a bare, gaunt, famished skeleton, slaying his way along.

The borders of Ratcliff and Stepney, eastward of London, and giving on the impure river, were the scene of this uncompromising dance of death, upon a drizzling November day. A squalid maze of streets, courts, and alleys of miserable houses let out in single rooms. A wilderness of dirt, rags, and hunger. A mud-desert, chiefly inhabited by a tribe from whom employment has departed, or to whom it comes but fitfully and rarely. They are not skilled mechanics in any wise. They are but labourers, - dock-labourers, water-side labourers, coal-porters, ballast-heavers, such-like hewers of wood and drawers of water. But they have come into existence, and they propagate their wretched race.

One grisly joke alone, methought, the skeleton seemed to play off here. It had stuck election-bills on the walls, which the wind and rain had deteriorated into suitable rags. It had even summed up the state of the poll, in chalk, on the shutters of one ruined house. It adjured the free and independent starvers to vote for Thisman and vote for Thatman; not to plump, as they valued the state of parties and the national prosperity (both of great importance to them, I think); but, by returning Thisman and Thatman, each naught without the other, to compound a glorious and immortal whole. Surely the skeleton is nowhere more cruelly ironical in the original monkish idea!

Pondering in my mind the far-seeing schemes of Thisman and Thatman, and of the public blessing called Party, for staying the degeneracy, physical and moral, of many thousands (who shall say how many?) of the English race; for devising employment useful to the community for those who want but to work and live; for equalising rates, cultivating waste lands, facilitating emigration, and, above all things, saving and utilising the oncoming generations, and thereby changing ever-growing national weakness into strength: pondering in my mind, I say, these hopeful exertions, I turned down a narrow street to look into a house or two.

It was a dark street with a dead wall on one side. Nearly all the outer doors of the houses stood open. I took the first entry, and knocked at a parlour-door. Might I come in? I might, if I plased, sur.

The woman of the room (Irish) had picked up some long strips of wood, about some wharf or barge; and they had just now been thrust into the otherwise empty grate to make two iron pots boil. There was some fish in one, and there were some potatoes in the other. The flare of the burning wood enabled me to see a table, and a broken chair or so, and some old cheap crockery ornaments about the chimney-piece. It was not until I had spoken with the woman a few minutes, that I saw a horrible brown heap on the floor in the corner, which, but for previous experience in this dismal wise, I might not have suspected to be ‘the bed.’ There was something thrown upon it; and I asked what that was.

‘’Tis the poor craythur that stays here, sur; and ’tis very bad she is, and ’tis very bad she’s been this long time, and ’tis better she’ll never be, and ‘tis slape she does all day, and ’tis wake she does all night, and ’tis the lead, sur.’

‘The what?’

‘The lead, sur. Sure ‘tis the lead-mills, where the women gets took on at eighteen-pence a day, sur, when they makes application early enough, and is lucky and wanted; and ’tis lead-pisoned she is, sur, and some of them gets lead-pisoned soon, and some of them gets lead-pisoned later, and some, but not many, niver; and ‘tis all according to the constitooshun, sur, and some constitooshuns is strong, and some is weak, and her constitooshun is lead-pisoned, bad as can be, sur; and her brain is coming out at her ear, and it hurts her dreadful; and that’s what it is, and niver no more, and niver no less, sur.’

The sick young woman moaning here, the speaker bent over her, took a bandage from her head, and threw open a back door to let in the daylight upon it, from the smallest and most miserable back-yard I ever saw.

‘That’s what cooms from her, sur, being lead-pisoned; and it cooms from her night and day, the poor, sick craythur; and the pain of it is dreadful; and God he knows that my husband has walked the streets these four days, being a labourer, and is walking them now, and is ready to work, and no work for him, and no fire and no food but the bit in the pot, and no more than ten shillings in a fortnight; God be good to us! and it is poor we are, and dark it is and could it is indeed.’

Knowing that I could compensate myself thereafter for my self-denial, if I saw fit, I had resolved that I would give nothing in the course of these visits. I did this to try the people. I may state at once that my closest observation could not detect any indication whatever of an expectation that I would give money: they were grateful to be talked to about their miserable affairs, and sympathy was plainly a comfort to them; but they neither asked for money in any case, nor showed the least trace of surprise or disappointment or resentment at my giving none.

The woman’s married daughter had by this time come down from her room on the floor above, to join in the conversation. She herself had been to the lead-mills very early that morning to be ‘took on,’ but had not succeeded. She had four children; and her husband, also a water-side labourer, and then out seeking work, seemed in no better case as to finding it than her father. She was English, and by nature of a buxom figure and cheerful. Both in her poor dress and in her mother’s there was an effort to keep up some appearance of neatness. She knew all about the sufferings of the unfortunate invalid, and all about the lead-poisoning, and how the symptoms came on, and how they grew, - having often seen them. The very smell when you stood inside the door of the works was enough to knock you down, she said: yet she was going back again to get ‘took on:’ What could she do? Better be ulcerated and paralyzed for eighteen-pence a day, while it lasted, than see the children starve.

A dark and squalid cupboard in this room, touching the back door and all manner of offence, had been for some time the sleeping-place of the sick young woman. But the nights being now wintry, and the blankets and coverlets ‘gone to the leaving shop,’ she lay all night where she lay all day, and was lying then. The woman of the room, her husband, this most miserable patient, and two others, lay on the one brown heap together for warmth.

‘God bless you, sir, and thank you!’ were the parting words from these people, - gratefully spoken too, - with which I left this place.

Some streets away, I tapped at another parlour-door on another ground-floor. Looking in, I found a man, his wife, and four children, sitting at a washing-stool by way of table, at their dinner of bread and infused tea-leaves. There was a very scanty cinderous fire in the grate by which they sat; and there was a tent bedstead in the room with a bed upon it and a coverlet. The man did not rise when I went in, nor during my stay, but civilly inclined his head on my pulling off my hat, and, in answer to my inquiry whether I might ask him a question or two, said, ‘Certainly.’ There being a window at each end of this room, back and front, it might have been ventilated; but it was shut up tight, to keep the cold out, and was very sickening.

The wife, an intelligent, quick woman, rose and stood at her husband’s elbow; and he glanced up at her as if for help. It soon appeared that he was rather deaf. He was a slow, simple fellow of about thirty.

‘What was he by trade?’

‘Gentleman asks what are you by trade, John?’

‘I am a boilermaker;’ looking about him with an exceedingly perplexed air, as if for a boiler that had unaccountably vanished.

‘He ain’t a mechanic, you understand, sir,’ the wife put in: ‘he’s only a labourer.’

‘Are you in work?’

He looked up at his wife again. ‘Gentleman says are you in work, John?’

‘In work!’ cried this forlorn boilermaker, staring aghast at his wife, and then working his vision’s way very slowly round to me: ‘Lord no!’

‘Ah, he ain’t indeed!’ said the poor woman, shaking her head, as she looked at the four children in succession, and then at him.

‘Work!’ said the boilermaker, still seeking that evaporated boiler, first in my countenance, then in the air, and then in the features of his second son at his knee: ‘I wish I was in work! I haven’t had more than a day’s work to do this three weeks.’

‘How have you lived?’

A faint gleam of admiration lighted up the face of the would-be boilermaker, as he stretched out the short sleeve of his threadbare canvas jacket, and replied, pointing her out, ‘On the work of the wife.’

I forget where boilermaking had gone to, or where he supposed it had gone to; but he added some resigned information on that head, coupled with an expression of his belief that it was never coming back.

The cheery helpfulness of the wife was very remarkable. She did slopwork; made pea-jackets. She produced the pea-jacket then in hand, and spread it out upon the bed, - the only piece of furniture in the room on which to spread it. She showed how much of it she made, and how much was afterwards finished off by the machine. According to her calculation at the moment, deducting what her trimming cost her, she got for making a peajacket tenpence half-penny, and she could make one in something less than two days.

But, you see, it come to her through two hands, and of course it didn’t come through the second hand for nothing. Why did it come through the second hand at all? Why, this way. The second hand took the risk of the given-out work, you see. If she had money enough to pay the security deposit, - call it two pound, - she could get the work from the first hand, and so the second would not have to be deducted for. But, having no money at all, the second hand come in and took its profit, and so the whole worked down to tenpence half-penny. Having explained all this with great intelligence, even with some little pride, and without a whine or murmur, she folded her work again, sat down by her husband’s side at the washing-stool, and resumed her dinner of dry bread. Mean as the meal was, on the bare board, with its old gallipots for cups, and what not other sordid makeshifts: shabby as the woman was in dress, and toning down towards the Bosjesman colour, with want of nutriment and washing, - there was positively a dignity in her, as the family anchor just holding the poor shipwrecked boilermaker’s bark. When I left the room, the boilermaker’s eyes were slowly turned towards her, as if his last hope of ever again seeing that vanished boiler lay in her direction.

These people had never applied for parish relief but once; and that was when the husband met with a disabling accident at his work.

Not many doors from here, I went into a room on the first floor. The woman apologised for its being in ‘an untidy mess.’ The day was Saturday, and she was boiling the children’s clothes in a saucepan on the hearth. There was nothing else into which she could have put them. There was no crockery, or tinware, or tub, or bucket. There was an old gallipot or two, and there was a broken bottle or so, and there were some broken boxes for seats. The last small scraping of coals left was raked together in a corner of the floor. There were some rags in an open cupboard, also on the floor. In a corner of the room was a crazy old French bedstead, with a man lying on his back upon it in a ragged pilot jacket, and rough oil-skin fantail hat. The room was perfectly black. It was difficult to believe, at first, that it was not purposely coloured black, the walls were so begrimed.

As I stood opposite the woman boiling the children’s clothes, - she had not even a piece of soap to wash them with, - and apologising for her occupation, I could take in all these things without appearing to notice them, and could even correct my inventory. I had missed, at the first glance, some half a pound of bread in the otherwise empty safe, an old red ragged crinoline hanging on the handle of the door by which I had entered, and certain fragments of rusty iron scattered on the floor, which looked like broken tools and a piece of stove-pipe. A child stood looking on. On the box nearest to the fire sat two younger children; one a delicate and pretty little creature, whom the other sometimes kissed.

This woman, like the last, was woefully shabby, and was degenerating to the Bosjesman complexion. But her figure, and the ghost of a certain vivacity about her, and the spectre of a dimple in her cheek, carried my memory strangely back to the old days of the Adelphi Theatre, London, when Mrs. Fitzwilliam was the friend of Victorine.

‘May I ask you what your husband is?’

‘He’s a coal-porter, sir,’ - with a glance and a sigh towards the bed.

‘Is he out of work?’

‘Oh, yes, sir! and work’s at all times very, very scanty with him; and now he’s laid up.’

‘It’s my legs,’ said the man upon the bed. ‘I’ll unroll ’em.’ And immediately began.

‘Have you any older children?’

‘I have a daughter that does the needle-work, and I have a son that does what he can. She’s at her work now, and he’s trying for work.’

‘Do they live here?’

‘They sleep here. They can’t afford to pay more rent, and so they come here at night. The rent is very hard upon us. It’s rose upon us too, now, - sixpence a week, - on account of these new changes in the law, about the rates. We are a week behind; the landlord’s been shaking and rattling at that door frightfully; he says he’ll turn us out. I don’t know what’s to come of it.’

The man upon the bed ruefully interposed, ‘Here’s my legs. The skin’s broke, besides the swelling. I have had a many kicks, working, one way and another.’

He looked at his legs (which were much discoloured and misshapen) for a while, and then appearing to remember that they were not popular with his family, rolled them up again, as if they were something in the nature of maps or plans that were not wanted to be referred to, lay hopelessly down on his back once more with his fantail hat over his face, and stirred not.

‘Do your eldest son and daughter sleep in that cupboard?’

‘Yes,’ replied the woman.

‘With the children?’

‘Yes. We have to get together for warmth. We have little to cover us.’

‘Have you nothing by you to eat but the piece of bread I see there?’

‘Nothing. And we had the rest of the loaf for our breakfast, with water. I don’t know what’s to come of it.’

‘Have you no prospect of improvement?’

‘If my eldest son earns anything to-day, he’ll bring it home. Then we shall have something to eat to-night, and may be able to do something towards the rent. If not, I don’t know what’s to come of it.’

‘This is a sad state of things.’

‘Yes, sir; it’s a hard, hard life. Take care of the stairs as you go, sir - they’re broken, - and good day, sir!’

These people had a mortal dread of entering the workhouse, and received no out-of-door relief.

In another room, in still another tenement, I found a very decent woman with five children, - the last a baby, and she herself a patient of the parish doctor, - to whom, her husband being in the hospital, the Union allowed for the support of herself and family, four shillings a week and five loaves. I suppose when Thisman, M.P., and Thatman, M.P., and the Public-blessing Party, lay their heads together in course of time, and come to an equalisation of rating, she may go down to the dance of death to the tune of sixpence more.

I could enter no other houses for that one while, for I could not bear the contemplation of the children. Such heart as I had summoned to sustain me against the miseries of the adults failed me when I looked at the children. I saw how young they were, how hungry, how serious and still. I thought of them, sick and dying in those lairs. I think of them dead without anguish; but to think of them so suffering and so dying quite unmanned me.

Down by the river’s bank in Ratcliff, I was turning upward by a side street, therefore, to regain the railway, when my eyes rested on the inscription across the road, ‘East London Children’s Hospital.’ I could scarcely have seen an inscription better suited to my frame of mind; and I went across and went straight in.

I found the children’s hospital established in an old sail-loft or storehouse, of the roughest nature, and on the simplest means. There were trap-doors in the floors, where goods had been hoisted up and down; heavy feet and heavy weights had started every knot in the well-trodden planking: inconvenient bulks and beams and awkward staircases perplexed my passage through the wards. But I found it airy, sweet, and clean. In its seven and thirty beds I saw but little beauty; for starvation in the second or third generation takes a pinched look: but I saw the sufferings both of infancy and childhood tenderly assuaged; I heard the little patients answering to pet playful names, the light touch of a delicate lady laid bare the wasted sticks of arms for me to pity; and the claw-like little hands, as she did so, twined themselves lovingly around her wedding-ring.

One baby mite there was as pretty as any of Raphael’s angels. The tiny head was bandaged for water on the brain; and it was suffering with acute bronchitis too, and made from time to time a plaintive, though not impatient or complaining, little sound. The smooth curve of the cheeks and of the chin was faultless in its condensation of infantine beauty, and the large bright eyes were most lovely. It happened as I stopped at the foot of the bed, that these eyes rested upon mine with that wistful expression of wondering thoughtfulness which we all know sometimes in very little children. They remained fixed on mine, and never turned from me while I stood there. When the utterance of that plaintive sound shook the little form, the gaze still remained unchanged. I felt as though the child implored me to tell the story of the little hospital in which it was sheltered to any gentle heart I could address. Laying my world-worn hand upon the little unmarked clasped hand at the chin, I gave it a silent promise that I would do so.

A gentleman and lady, a young husband and wife, have bought and fitted up this building for its present noble use, and have quietly settled themselves in it as its medical officers and directors. Both have had considerable practical experience of medicine and surgery; he as housesurgeon of a great London hospital; she as a very earnest student, tested by severe examination, and also as a nurse of the sick poor during the prevalence of cholera.

With every qualification to lure them away, with youth and accomplishments and tastes and habits that can have no response in any breast near them close begirt by every repulsive circumstance inseparable from such a neighbourhood, there they dwell. They live in the hospital itself, and their rooms are on its first floor. Sitting at their dinner-table, they could hear the cry of one of the children in pain. The lady’s piano, drawing-materials, books, and other such evidences of refinement are as much a part of the rough place as the iron bedsteads of the little patients. They are put to shifts for room, like passengers on board ship. The dispenser of medicines (attracted to them not by self-interest, but by their own magnetism and that of their cause) sleeps in a recess in the diningroom, and has his washing apparatus in the sideboard.

Their contented manner of making the best of the things around them, I found so pleasantly inseparable from their usefulness! Their pride in this partition that we put up ourselves, or in that partition that we took down, or in that other partition that we moved, or in the stove that was given us for the waiting-room, or in our nightly conversion of the little consulting-room into a smoking-room! Their admiration of the situation, if we could only get rid of its one objectionable incident, the coal-yard at the back! ‘Our hospital carriage, presented by a friend, and very useful.’ That was my presentation to a perambulator, for which a coach-house had been discovered in a corner down-stairs, just large enough to hold it. Coloured prints, in all stages of preparation for being added to those already decorating the wards, were plentiful; a charming wooden phenomenon of a bird, with an impossible top-knot, who ducked his head when you set a counter weight going, had been inaugurated as a public statue that very morning; and trotting about among the beds, on familiar terms with all the patients, was a comical mongrel dog, called Poodles. This comical dog (quite a tonic in himself) was found characteristically starving at the door of the institution, and was taken in and fed, and has lived here ever since. An admirer of his mental endowments has presented him with a collar bearing the legend, ‘Judge not Poodles by external appearances.’ He was merrily wagging his tail on a boy’s pillow when he made this modest appeal to me.

When this hospital was first opened, in January of the present year, the people could not possibly conceive but that somebody paid for the services rendered there; and were disposed to claim them as a right, and to find fault if out of temper. They soon came to understand the case better, and have much increased in gratitude. The mothers of the patients avail themselves very freely of the visiting rules; the fathers often on Sundays. There is an unreasonable (but still, I think, touching and intelligible) tendency in the parents to take a child away to its wretched home, if on the point of death. One boy who had been thus carried off on a rainy night, when in a violent state of inflammation, and who had been afterwards brought back, had been recovered with exceeding difficulty; but he was a jolly boy, with a specially strong interest in his dinner, when I saw him.

Insufficient food and unwholesome living are the main causes of disease among these small patients. So nourishment, cleanliness, and ventilation are the main remedies. Discharged patients are looked after, and invited to come and dine now and then; so are certain famishing creatures who were never patients. Both the lady and the gentleman are well acquainted, not only with the histories of the patients and their families, but with the characters and circumstances of great numbers of their neighbours: of these they keep a register. It is their common experience, that people, sinking down by inches into deeper and deeper poverty, will conceal it, even from them, if possible, unto the very last extremity.

The nurses of this hospital are all young, - ranging, say, from nineteen to four and twenty. They have even within these narrow limits, what many well-endowed hospitals would not give them, a comfortable room of their own in which to take their meals. It is a beautiful truth, that interest in the children and sympathy with their sorrows bind these young women to their places far more strongly than any other consideration could. The best skilled of the nurses came originally from a kindred neighbourhood, almost as poor; and she knew how much the work was needed. She is a fair dressmaker. The hospital cannot pay her as many pounds in the year as there are months in it; and one day the lady regarded it as a duty to speak to her about her improving her prospects and following her trade. ‘No,’ she said: she could never be so useful or so happy elsewhere any more; she must stay among the children. And she stays. One of the nurses, as I passed her, was washing a baby-boy. Liking her pleasant face, I stopped to speak to her charge, - a common, bullet-headed, frowning charge enough, laying hold of his own nose with a slippery grasp, and staring very solemnly out of a blanket. The melting of the pleasant face into delighted smiles, as this young gentleman gave an unexpected kick, and laughed at me, was almost worth my previous pain.

An affecting play was acted in Paris years ago, called ‘The Children’s Doctor.’ As I parted from my children’s doctor, now in question, I saw in his easy black necktie, in his loose buttoned black frock-coat, in his pensive face, in the flow of his dark hair, in his eyelashes, in the very turn of his moustache, the exact realisation of the Paris artist’s ideal as it was presented on the stage. But no romancer that I know of has had the boldness to prefigure the life and home of this young husband and young wife in the Children’s Hospital in the east of London.

I came away from Ratcliff by the Stepney railway station to the terminus at Fenchurch Street. Any one who will reverse that route may retrace my steps.

On an Amateur Beat

It is one of my fancies, that even my idlest walk must always have its appointed destination. I set myself a task before I leave my lodging in Covent-garden on a street expedition, and should no more think of altering my route by the way, or turning back and leaving a part of it unachieved, than I should think of fraudulently violating an agreement entered into with somebody else. The other day, finding myself under this kind of obligation to proceed to Limehouse, I started punctually at noon, in compliance with the terms of the contract with myself to which my good faith was pledged.

On such an occasion, it is my habit to regard my walk as my beat, and myself as a higher sort of police-constable doing duty on the same. There is many a ruffian in the streets whom I mentally collar and clear out of them, who would see mighty little of London, I can tell him, if I could deal with him physically.

Issuing forth upon this very beat, and following with my eyes three hulking garrotters on their way home, - which home I could confidently swear to be within so many yards of Drury-lane, in such a narrow and restricted direction (though they live in their lodging quite as undisturbed as I in mine), - I went on duty with a consideration which I respectfully offer to the new Chief Commissioner, - in whom I thoroughly confide as a tried and efficient public servant. How often (thought I) have I been forced to swallow, in police-reports, the intolerable stereotyped pill of nonsense, how that the police-constable informed the worthy magistrate how that the associates of the prisoner did, at that present speaking, dwell in a street or court which no man dared go down, and how that the worthy magistrate had heard of the dark reputation of such street or court, and how that our readers would doubtless remember that it was always the same street or court which was thus edifyingly discoursed about, say once a fortnight.

Now, suppose that a Chief Commissioner sent round a circular to every division of police employed in London, requiring instantly the names in all districts of all such much-puffed streets or courts which no man durst go down; and suppose that in such circular he gave plain warning, ‘If those places really exist, they are a proof of police inefficiency which I mean to punish; and if they do not exist, but are a conventional fiction, then they are a proof of lazy tacit police connivance with professional crime, which I also mean to punish’ - what then? Fictions or realities, could they survive the touchstone of this atom of common sense? To tell us in open court, until it has become as trite a feature of news as the great gooseberry, that a costly police-system such as was never before heard of, has left in London, in the days of steam and gas and photographs of thieves and electric telegraphs, the sanctuaries and stews of the Stuarts! Why, a parity of practice, in all departments, would bring back the Plague in two summers, and the Druids in a century!

Walking faster under my share of this public injury, I overturned a wretched little creature, who, clutching at the rags of a pair of trousers with one of its claws, and at its ragged hair with the other, pattered with bare feet over the muddy stones. I stopped to raise and succour this poor weeping wretch, and fifty like it, but of both sexes, were about me in a moment, begging, tumbling, fighting, clamouring, yelling, shivering in their nakedness and hunger. The piece of money I had put into the claw of the child I had overturned was clawed out of it, and was again clawed out of that wolfish gripe, and again out of that, and soon I had no notion in what part of the obscene scuffle in the mud, of rags and legs and arms and dirt, the money might be. In raising the child, I had drawn it aside out of the main thoroughfare, and this took place among some wooden hoardings and barriers and ruins of demolished buildings, hard by Temple Bar.

Unexpectedly, from among them emerged a genuine police constable, before whom the dreadful brood dispersed in various directions, he making feints and darts in this direction and in that, and catching nothing. When all were frightened away, he took off his hat, pulled out a handkerchief from it, wiped his heated brow, and restored the handkerchief and hat to their places, with the air of a man who had discharged a great moral duty, - as indeed he had, in doing what was set down for him. I looked at him, and I looked about at the disorderly traces in the mud, and I thought of the drops of rain and the footprints of an extinct creature, hoary ages upon ages old, that geologists have identified on the face of a cliff; and this speculation came over me: If this mud could petrify at this moment, and could lie concealed here for ten thousand years, I wonder whether the race of men then to be our successors on the earth could, from these or any marks, by the utmost force of the human intellect, unassisted by tradition, deduce such an astounding inference as the existence of a polished state of society that bore with the public savagery of neglected children in the streets of its capital city, and was proud of its power by sea and land, and never used its power to seize and save them!

After this, when I came to the Old Bailey and glanced up it towards Newgate, I found that the prison had an inconsistent look. There seemed to be some unlucky inconsistency in the atmosphere that day; for though the proportions of St. Paul’s Cathedral are very beautiful, it had an air of being somewhat out of drawing, in my eyes. I felt as though the cross were too high up, and perched upon the intervening golden ball too far away.

Facing eastward, I left behind me Smithfield and Old Bailey, - fire and faggot, condemned hold, public hanging, whipping through the city at the cart-tail, pillory, branding-iron, and other beautiful ancestral landmarks, which rude hands have rooted up, without bringing the stars quite down upon us as yet, - and went my way upon my beat, noting how oddly characteristic neighbourhoods are divided from one another, hereabout, as though by an invisible line across the way. Here shall cease the bankers and the money-changers; here shall begin the shipping interest and the nautical-instrument shops; here shall follow a scarcely perceptible flavouring of groceries and drugs; here shall come a strong infusion of butchers; now, small hosiers shall be in the ascendant; henceforth, everything exposed for sale shall have its ticketed price attached. All this as if specially ordered and appointed.

A single stride at Houndsditch Church, no wider than sufficed to cross the kennel at the bottom of the Canongate, which the debtors in Holyrood sanctuary were wont to relieve their minds by skipping over, as Scott relates, and standing in delightful daring of catchpoles on the free side, - a single stride, and everything is entirely changed in grain and character. West of the stride, a table, or a chest of drawers on sale, shall be of mahogany and French-polished; east of the stride, it shall be of deal, smeared with a cheap counterfeit resembling lip-salve. West of the stride, a penny loaf or bun shall be compact and self-contained; east of the stride, it shall be of a sprawling and splay-footed character, as seeking to make more of itself for the money. My beat lying round by Whitechapel Church, and the adjacent sugar-refineries, - great buildings, tier upon tier, that have the appearance of being nearly related to the dock-warehouses at Liverpool, - I turned off to my right, and, passing round the awkward corner on my left, came suddenly on an apparition familiar to London streets afar off.

What London peripatetic of these times has not seen the woman who has fallen forward, double, through some affection of the spine, and whose head has of late taken a turn to one side, so that it now droops over the back of one of her arms at about the wrist? Who does not know her staff, and her shawl, and her basket, as she gropes her way along, capable of seeing nothing but the pavement, never begging, never stopping, for ever going somewhere on no business? How does she live, whence does she come, whither does she go, and why? I mind the time when her yellow arms were naught but bone and parchment. Slight changes steal over her; for there is a shadowy suggestion of human skin on them now. The Strand may be taken as the central point about which she revolves in a half-mile orbit. How comes she so far east as this? And coming back too! Having been how much farther? She is a rare spectacle in this neighbourhood. I receive intelligent information to this effect from a dog - a lop-sided mongrel with a foolish tail, plodding along with his tail up, and his ears pricked, and displaying an amiable interest in the ways of his fellow-men, - if I may be allowed the expression. After pausing at a pork-shop, he is jogging eastward like myself, with a benevolent countenance and a watery mouth, as though musing on the many excellences of pork, when he beholds this doubled-up bundle approaching. He is not so much astonished at the bundle (though amazed by that), as the circumstance that it has within itself the means of locomotion. He stops, pricks his ears higher, makes a slight point, stares, utters a short, low growl, and glistens at the nose, - as I conceive with terror. The bundle continuing to approach, he barks, turns tail, and is about to fly, when, arguing with himself that flight is not becoming in a dog, he turns, and once more faces the advancing heap of clothes. After much hesitation, it occurs to him that there may be a face in it somewhere. Desperately resolving to undertake the adventure, and pursue the inquiry, he goes slowly up to the bundle, goes slowly round it, and coming at length upon the human countenance down there where never human countenance should be, gives a yelp of horror, and flies for the East India Docks.

Being now in the Commercial Road district of my beat, and bethinking myself that Stepney Station is near, I quicken my pace that I may turn out of the road at that point, and see how my small eastern star is shining.

The Children’s Hospital, to which I gave that name, is in full force. All its beds are occupied. There is a new face on the bed where my pretty baby lay, and that sweet little child is now at rest for ever. Much kind sympathy has been here since my former visit, and it is good to see the walls profusely garnished with dolls. I wonder what Poodles may think of them, as they stretch out their arms above the beds, and stare, and display their splendid dresses. Poodles has a greater interest in the patients. I find him making the round of the beds, like a housesurgeon, attended by another dog, - a friend, - who appears to trot about with him in the character of his pupil dresser. Poodles is anxious to make me known to a pretty little girl looking wonderfully healthy, who had had a leg taken off for cancer of the knee. A difficult operation, Poodles intimates, wagging his tail on the counterpane, but perfectly successful, as you see, dear sir! The patient, patting Poodles, adds with a smile, ‘The leg was so much trouble to me, that I am glad it’s gone.’ I never saw anything in doggery finer than the deportment of Poodles, when another little girl opens her mouth to show a peculiar enlargement of the tongue. Poodles (at that time on a table, to be on a level with the occasion) looks at the tongue (with his own sympathetically out) so very gravely and knowingly, that I feel inclined to put my hand in my waistcoat-pocket, and give him a guinea, wrapped in paper.

On my beat again, and close to Limehouse Church, its termination, I found myself near to certain ‘Lead-Mills.’ Struck by the name, which was fresh in my memory, and finding, on inquiry, that these same lead-mills were identified with those same lead-mills of which I made mention when I first visited the East London Children’s Hospital and its neighbourhood as Uncommercial Traveller, I resolved to have a look at them.

Received by two very intelligent gentlemen, brothers, and partners with their father in the concern, and who testified every desire to show their works to me freely, I went over the lead-mills. The purport of such works is the conversion of pig-lead into white-lead. This conversion is brought about by the slow and gradual effecting of certain successive chemical changes in the lead itself. The processes are picturesque and interesting, - the most so, being the burying of the lead, at a certain stage of preparation, in pots, each pot containing a certain quantity of acid besides, and all the pots being buried in vast numbers, in layers, under tan, for some ten weeks.

Hopping up ladders, and across planks, and on elevated perches, until I was uncertain whether to liken myself to a bird or a bricklayer, I became conscious of standing on nothing particular, looking down into one of a series of large cocklofts, with the outer day peeping in through the chinks in the tiled roof above. A number of women were ascending to, and descending from, this cockloft, each carrying on the upward journey a pot of prepared lead and acid, for deposition under the smoking tan. When one layer of pots was completely filled, it was carefully covered in with planks, and those were carefully covered with tan again, and then another layer of pots was begun above; sufficient means of ventilation being preserved through wooden tubes. Going down into the cockloft then filling, I found the heat of the tan to be surprisingly great, and also the odour of the lead and acid to be not absolutely exquisite, though I believe not noxious at that stage. In other cocklofts, where the pots were being exhumed, the heat of the steaming tan was much greater, and the smell was penetrating and peculiar. There were cocklofts in all stages; full and empty, half filled and half emptied; strong, active women were clambering about them busily; and the whole thing had rather the air of the upper part of the house of some immensely rich old Turk, whose faithful seraglio were hiding his money because the sultan or the pasha was coming.

As is the case with most pulps or pigments, so in the instance of this white-lead, processes of stirring, separating, washing, grinding, rolling, and pressing succeed. Some of these are unquestionably inimical to health, the danger arising from inhalation of particles of lead, or from contact between the lead and the touch, or both. Against these dangers, I found good respirators provided (simply made of flannel and muslin, so as to be inexpensively renewed, and in some instances washed with scented soap), and gauntlet gloves, and loose gowns. Everywhere, there was as much fresh air as windows, well placed and opened, could possibly admit. And it was explained that the precaution of frequently changing the women employed in the worst parts of the work (a precaution originating in their own experience or apprehension of its ill effects) was found salutary. They had a mysterious and singular appearance, with the mouth and nose covered, and the loose gown on, and yet bore out the simile of the old Turk and the seraglio all the better for the disguise.

At last this vexed white-lead, having been buried and resuscitated, and heated and cooled and stirred, and separated and washed and ground, and rolled and pressed, is subjected to the action of intense fiery heat. A row of women, dressed as above described, stood, let us say, in a large stone bake-house, passing on the baking-dishes as they were given out by the cooks, from hand to hand, into the ovens. The oven, or stove, cold as yet, looked as high as an ordinary house, and was full of men and women on temporary footholds, briskly passing up and stowing away the dishes. The door of another oven, or stove, about to be cooled and emptied, was opened from above, for the uncommercial countenance to peer down into. The uncommercial countenance withdrew itself, with expedition and a sense of suffocation, from the dull-glowing heat and the overpowering smell. On the whole, perhaps the going into these stoves to work, when they are freshly opened, may be the worst part of the occupation.

But I made it out to be indubitable that the owners of these lead-mills honestly and sedulously try to reduce the dangers of the occupation to the lowest point.

A washing-place is provided for the women (I thought there might have been more towels), and a room in which they hang their clothes, and take their meals, and where they have a good fire-range and fire, and a female attendant to help them, and to watch that they do not neglect the cleansing of their hands before touching their food. An experienced medical attendant is provided for them, and any premonitory symptoms of lead-poisoning are carefully treated. Their teapots and such things were set out on tables ready for their afternoon meal, when I saw their room; and it had a homely look. It is found that they bear the work much better than men: some few of them have been at it for years, and the great majority of those I observed were strong and active. On the other hand, it should be remembered that most of them are very capricious and irregular in their attendance.

American inventiveness would seem to indicate that before very long white-lead may be made entirely by machinery. The sooner, the better. In the meantime, I parted from my two frank conductors over the mills, by telling them that they had nothing there to be concealed, and nothing to be blamed for. As to the rest, the philosophy of the matter of lead-poisoning and workpeople seems to me to have been pretty fairly summed up by the Irish-woman whom I quoted in my former paper: ‘Some of them gets lead-pisoned soon, and some of them gets lead-pisoned later, and some, but not many, niver; and ‘tis all according to the constitooshun, sur; and some constitooshuns is strong and some is weak.’

Retracing my footsteps over my beat, I went off duty.

Betting-Shops

In one sporting newspaper for Sunday, June the fourteenth, there are nine-and-twenty advertisements from Prophets, who have wonderful information to give - for a consideration ranging from one pound one, to two-and-sixpence - concerning every ‘event’ that is to come off upon the Turf. Each of these Prophets has an unrivalled and unchallengeable ‘Tip,’ founded on amazing intelligence communicated to him by illustrious unknowns (traitors of course, but that is nobody’s business) in all the racing stables. Each, is perfectly clear that his enlightened patrons and correspondents must win; and each, begs to guard a too-confiding world against relying on the other. They are all philanthropists. One Sage announces ‘that when he casts his practised eye on the broad surface of struggling society, and witnesses the slow and enduring perseverance of some, and the infatuous rush of the many who are grappling with a cloud, he is led with more intense desire to hold up the lamp of light to all.’ He is also much afflicted, because ‘not a day passes, without his witnessing the public squandering away their money on worthless rubbish.’ Another, heralds his re-appearance among the lesser stars of the firmament with the announcement, ‘Again the Conquering Prophet comes!’ Another moralist intermingles with his ‘Pick,’ and ‘Tip,’ the great Christian precept of the New Testament. Another, confesses to a small recent mistake which has made it ‘a disastrous meeting for us,’ but considers that excuses are unnecessary (after making them), for, ‘surely, after the unprecedented success of the proofs he has lately afforded of his capabilities in fishing out the most carefully-hidden turf secrets, he may readily be excused one blunder.’ All the Prophets write in a rapid manner, as receiving their inspiration on horseback, and noting it down, hot and hot, in the saddle, for the enlightenment of mankind and the restoration of the golden age.

This flourishing trade is a melancholy index to the round numbers of human donkeys who are everywhere browzing about. And it is worthy of remark that the great mass of disciples were, at first, undoubtedly to be found among those fast young gentlemen, who are so excruciatingly knowing that they are not by any means to be taken in by Shakespeare, or any sentimental gammon of that sort. To us, the idea of this would-be keen race being preyed upon by the whole Betting-Book of Prophets, is one of the most ludicrous pictures the mind can imagine; while there is a just and pleasant retribution in it which would awaken in us anything but animosity towards the Prophets, if the mischief ended here.

But, the mischief has the drawback that it does not end here. When there are so many Picks and Tips to be had, which will, of a surety, pick and tip their happy owners into the lap of Fortune, it becomes the duty of every butcher’s boy and errand lad who is sensible of what is due to himself, immediately to secure a Pick and Tip of the cheaper sort, and to go in and win. Having purchased the talisman from the Conquering Prophet, it is necessary that the noble sportsman should have a handy place provided for him, where lists of the running horses and of the latest state of the odds, are kept, and where he can lay out his money (or somebody else’s) on the happy animals at whom the Prophetic eye has cast a knowing wink. Presto! Betting-shops spring up in every street! There is a demand at all the brokers’ shops for old, fly-blown, coloured prints of race-horses, and for any odd folio volumes that have the appearance of Ledgers. Two such prints in any shop-window, and one such book on any shop-counter, will make a complete Betting-office, bank, and all.

The Betting-shop may be a Tobacconist’s, thus suddenly transformed; or it may be nothing but a Bettingshop. It may be got up cheaply, for the purposes of Pick and Tip investment, by the removal of the legitimate counter, and the erection of an official partition and desk in one corner; or, it may be wealthy in mahogany fittings, French polish, and office furniture. The presiding officer, in an advanced stage of shabbiness, may be accidentally beheld through the little window - whence from the inner mysteries of the Temple, he surveys the devotees before entering on business - drinking gin with an admiring client; or he may be a serenely condescending gentleman of Government Office appearance, who keeps the books of the establishment with his glass in his eye. The Institution may stoop to bets of single shillings, or may reject lower ventures than half-crowns, or may draw the line of demarcation between itself and the snobs at five shillings, or seven-and-sixpence, or half-a-sovereign, or even (but very rarely indeed), at a pound. Its note of the little transaction may be a miserable scrap of limp pasteboard with a wretchedly printed form, worse filled up; or, it may be a genteelly tinted card, addressed ‘To the Cashier of the Aristocratic Club,’ and authorising that important officer to pay the bearer two pounds fifteen shillings, if Greenhorn wins the Fortunatus’s Cup; and to be very particular to pay it the day after the race. But, whatever the Betting-shop be, it has only to be somewhere - anywhere, so people pass and repass - and the rapid youth of England, with its slang intelligence perpetually broad awake and its weather eye continually open, will walk in and deliver up its money, like the helpless Innocent that it is.

Pleased to the last, it thinks its wager won, And licks the hand by which it’s surely Done

We cannot represent the head quarters of Household Words as being situated peculiarly in the midst of these establishments, for, they pervade the whole of London and its suburbs. But, our neighbourhood yields an abundant crop of Betting-shops, and we have not to go far to know something about them. Passing the other day, through a dirty thoroughfare, much frequented, near Drury Lane Theatre, we found that a new Betting-shop had suddenly been added to the number under the auspices of Mr. Cheerful.

Mr. Cheerful’s small establishment was so very like that of the apothecary in Romeo and Juliet, unfurnished, and hastily adapted to the requirements of secure and profitable investment, that it attracted our particular notice. It burst into bloom, too, so very shortly before the Ascot Meeting, that we had our suspicions concerning the possibility of Mr. Cheerful having devised the ingenious speculation of getting what money he could, up to the day of the race, and then - if we may be allowed the harsh expression - bolting. We had no doubt that investments would be made with Mr. Cheerful, notwithstanding the very unpromising appearance of his establishment; for, even as we were considering its exterior from the opposite side of the way (it may have been opened that very morning), we saw two newsboys, an incipient baker, a clerk, and a young butcher, go in, and transact business with Mr. Cheerful in a most confiding manner.

We resolved to lay a bet with Mr. Cheerful, and see what came of it. So we stepped across the road into Mr. Cheerful’s Betting-shop, and, having glanced at the lists hanging up therein, while another noble sportsman (a boy with a blue bag) laid another bet with Mr. Cheerful, we expressed our desire to back Tophana for the Western Handicap, to the spirited amount of half-a-crown. In making this advance to Mr. Cheerful, we looked as knowing on the subject, both of Tophana and the Western Handicap, as it was in us to do: though, to confess the humiliating truth, we neither had, nor have, the least idea in connexion with those proper names, otherwise than as we suppose Tophana to be a horse, and the Western Handicap an aggregate of stakes. It being Mr. Cheerful’s business to be grave and ask no questions, he accepted our wager, booked it, and handed us over his railed desk the dirty scrap of pasteboard, in right of which we were to claim - the day after the race; we were to be very particular about that - seven-and-sixpence sterling, if Tophana won. Some demon whispering us that here was an opportunity of discovering whether Mr. Cheerful had a good bank of silver in the cash-box, we handed in a sovereign. Mr. Cheerful’s head immediately slipped down behind the partition, investigating imaginary drawers; and Mr. Cheerful’s voice was presently heard to remark, in a stifled manner, that all the silver had been changed for gold that morning. After which, Mr. Cheerful reappeared in the twinkling of an eye, called in from a parlour the sharpest small boy ever beheld by human vision, and dispatched him for change. We remarked to Mr. Cheerful that if he would obligingly produce half-a-sovereign (having so much gold by him) we would increase our bet, and save him trouble. But, Mr. Cheerful, sliding down behind the partition again, answered that the boy was gone, now - trust him for that; he had vanished the instant he was spoken to - and it was no trouble at all. Therefore, we remained until the boy came back, in the society of Mr. Cheerful, and of an inscrutable woman who stared out resolutely into the street, and was probably Mrs. Cheerful. When the boy returned, we thought we once saw him faintly twitch his nose while we received our change, as if he exulted over a victim; but, he was so miraculously sharp, that it was impossible to be certain.

The day after the race, arriving, we returned with our document to Mr. Cheerful’s establishment, and found it in great confusion. It was filled by a crowd of boys, mostly greasy, dirty, and dissipated; and all clamouring for Mr. Cheerful. Occupying Mr. Cheerful’s place, was the miraculous boy; all alone, and unsupported, but not at all disconcerted. Mr. Cheerful, he said, had gone out on ‘’tickler bizniz’ at ten o’clock in the morning, and wouldn’t be back till late at night. Mrs. Cheerful was gone out of town for her health, till the winter. Would Mr. Cheerful be back to-morrow? cried the crowd. ‘He won’t be here, to-morrow,’ said the miraculous boy. ‘Coz it’s Sunday, and he always goes to church, a’ Sunday.’ At this, even the losers laughed. ‘Will he be here a’ Monday, then?’ asked a desperate young green-grocer. ‘A’ Monday?’ said the miracle, reflecting. ‘No, I don’t think he’ll be here, a’ Monday, coz he’s going to a sale a’ Monday.’ At this, some of the boys taunted the unmoved miracle with meaning ‘a sell instead of a sale,’ and others swarmed over the whole place, and some laughed, and some swore, and one errand boy, discovering the book - the only thing Mr. Cheerful had left behind him - declared it to be a ‘stunning good ’un.’ We took the liberty of looking over it, and found it so. Mr. Cheerful had received about seventeen pounds, and, even if he had paid his losses, would have made a profit of between eleven and twelve pounds. It is scarcely necessary to add that Mr. Cheerful has been so long detained at the sale that he has never come back. The last time we loitered past his late establishment (over which is inscribed Boot and Shoe Manufactory), the dusk of evening was closing in, and a young gentleman from New Inn was making some rather particular enquiries after him of a dim and dusty man who held the door a very little way open, and knew nothing about anybody, and less than nothing (if possible) about Mr. Cheerful. The handle of the lower door-bell was most significantly pulled out to its utmost extent, and left so, like an Organ stop in full action. It is to be hoped that the poor gull who had so frantically rung for Mr. Cheerful, derived some gratification from that expenditure of emphasis. He will never get any other, for his money.

But the public in general are not to be left a prey to such fellows as Cheerful. O, dear no! We have better neighbours than that, in the Betting-shop way. Expressly for the correction of such evils, we have The Tradesmen’s Moral Associative Betting Club; the Prospectus of which Institution for the benefit of tradesmen (headed in the original with a racing woodcut), we here faithfully present without the alteration of a word.

‘The Projectors of the Tradesmen’s Moral Associative Betting Club, in announcing an addition to the number of Betting Houses in the Metropolis, beg most distinctly to state that they are not actuated by a feeling of rivalry towards old established and honourably conducted places of a similar nature, but in a spirit of fair competition, ask for the support of the public, guaranteeing to them more solid security for the investment of their monies, than has hitherto been offered.

‘The Tradesmen’s Moral Associative Betting Club is really what its name imports, viz., an Association of Tradesmen, persons in business, who witnessing the robberies hourly inflicted upon the humbler portion of the sporting public, by parties bankrupt alike in character and property, have come to the conclusion that the establishment of a club wherein their fellow-tradesmen, and the speculator of a few shillings, may invest their money with assured consciousness of a fair and honourable dealing, will be deemed worthy of public support.

‘The Directors of this establishment feel that much of the odium attached to Betting Houses (acting to the prejudice of those which have striven hard by honourable means to secure public confidence), has arisen from the circumstance, that many offices have been fitted up in a style of gaudy imitative magnificence, accompanied by an expense, which, if defrayed, is obviously out of keeping with the profits of a legitimate concern. Whilst, in singular contrast, others have presented such a poverty stricken appearance, that it is evident the design of the occupant was only to receive money of all, and terminate in paying none.

‘Avoiding these extremes of appearance, and with a determination never to be induced to speculate to an extent, that may render it even probable that we shall be unable “to pay the day after the race.”

‘The business of club will be carried on at the house of a highly respectable and well-known tradesman, situate in a central locality, the existence of an agreement with whom, on the part of the directors, forms the strongest possible guarantee of our intention to keep faith with the public.

‘The market odds will be laid on all events, and every ticket issued be signed by the director only, the monies being invested,’ &c. &c.

After this, Tradesmen are quite safe in laying out their money on their favourite horses. And their families, like the people in old fireside stories, will no doubt live happy ever afterwards!

Now, it is unquestionable that this evil has risen to a great height, and that it involves some very serious social considerations. But, with all respect for opinions which we do not hold, we think it a mistake to cry for legislative interference in such a case. In the first place, we do not think it wise to exhibit a legislature which has always cared so little for the amusements of the people, in repressive action only. If it had been an educational legislature, considerate of the popular enjoyments, and sincerely desirous to advance and extend them during as long a period as it has been exactly the reverse, the question might assume a different shape; though, even then, we should greatly doubt whether the same notion were not a shifting of the real responsibility. In the second place, although it is very edifying to have honorable members, and right honorable members, and honorable and learned members, and what not, holding forth in their places upon what is right, and what is wrong, and what is true, and what is false - among the people - we have that audacity in us that we do not admire the present Parliamentary standard and balance of such questions; and we believe that if those be not scrupulously just, Parliament cannot invest itself with much moral authority. Surely the whole country knows that certain chivalrous public Prophets have been, for a pretty long time past, advertising their Pick and Tip in all directions, pointing out the horse which was to make everybody’s fortune! Surely we all know, howsoever our political opinions may differ, that more than one of them ‘casting his practised eye,’ exactly like the Prophet in the sporting paper, ‘on the broad surface of struggling society,’ has been possessed by the same ‘intense desire to hold up the lamp of light to all,’ and has solemnly known by the lamp of light that Black was the winning horse - until his Pick and Tip was purchased; when he suddenly began to think it might be White, or even Brown, or very possibly Grey. Surely, we all know, however reluctant we may be to admit it, that this has tainted and confused political honesty; that the Elections before us, and the whole Government of the country, are at present a great reckless Betting-shop, where the Prophets have pocketed their own predictions after playing fast and loose with their patrons as long as they could; and where, casting their practised eyes over things in general, they are now backing anything and everything for a chance of winning!

No. If the legislature took the subject in hand it would make a virtuous demonstration, we have no doubt, but it would not present an edifying spectacle. Parents and employers must do more for themselves. Every man should know something of the habits and frequentings of those who are placed under him; and should know much, when a new class of temptation thus presents itself. Apprentices are, by the terms of their indentures, punishable for gaming; it would do a world of good, to get a few score of that class of noble sportsmen convicted before magistrates, and shut up in the House of Correction, to Pick a little oakum, and Tip a little gruel into their silly stomachs. Betting clerks, and betting servants of all grades, once detected after a grave warning, should be firmly dismissed. There are plenty of industrious and steady young men to supply their places. The police should receive instructions by no means to overlook any gentleman of established bad reputation - whether ‘wanted’ or not - who is to be found connected with a Betting-shop. It is our belief that several eminent characters could be so discovered. These precautions, always supposing parents and employers resolute to discharge their own duties instead of vaguely delegating them to a legislature they have no reliance on, would probably be sufficient. Some fools who are under no control, will always be found wandering away to ruin; but, the greater part of that extensive department of the commonalty are under some control, and the great need is, that it be better exercised.

Trading in Death

Several years have now elapsed since it began to be clear to the comprehension of most rational men, that the English people had fallen into a condition much to be regretted, in respect of their Funeral customs. A system of barbarous show and expense was found to have gradually erected itself above the grave, which, while it could possibly do no honor to the memory of the dead, did great dishonor to the living, as inducing them to associate the most solemn of human occasions with unmeaning mummeries, dishonest debt, profuse waste, and bad example in an utter oblivion of responsibility. The more the subject was examined, and the lower the investigation was carried, the more monstrous (as was natural) these usages appeared to be, both in themselves and in their consequences. No class of society escaped. The competition among the middle classes for superior gentility in Funerals - the gentility being estimated by the amount of ghastly folly in which the undertaker was permitted to run riot - descended even to the very poor: to whom the cost of funeral customs was so ruinous and so disproportionate to their means, that they formed Clubs among themselves to defray such charges. Many of these Clubs, conducted by designing villains who preyed upon the general infirmity, cheated and wronged the poor, most cruelly; others, by presenting a new class of temptations to the wickedest natures among them, led to a new class of mercenary murders, so abominable in their iniquity, that language cannot stigmatise them with sufficient severity. That nothing might be wanting to complete the general depravity, hollowness, and falsehood, of this state of things, the absurd fact came to light, that innumerable harpies assumed the titles of furnishers of Funerals, who possessed no Funeral furniture whatever, but who formed a long file of middlemen between the chief mourner and the real tradesman, and who hired out the trappings from one to another - passing them on like water-buckets at a fire - every one of them charging his enormous percentage on his share of the ‘black job.’ Add to all this, the demonstration, by the simplest and plainest practical science, of the terrible consequences to the living, inevitably resulting from the practice of burying the dead in the midst of crowded towns; and the exposition of a system of indecent horror, revolting to our nature and disgraceful to our age and nation, arising out of the confined limits of such burial-grounds, and the avarice of their proprietors; and the culminating point of this gigantic mockery is at last arrived at.

Out of such almost incredible degradation, saving that the proof of it is too easy, we are still very slowly and feebly emerging. There are now, we confidently hope, among the middle classes, many, who having made themselves acquainted with these evils through the parliamentary papers in which they are described, would be moved by no human consideration to perpetuate the old bad example; but who will leave it as their solemn injunction on their nearest and dearest survivors, that they shall not, in their death, be made the instruments of infecting, either the minds or the bodies of their fellow-creatures. Among persons of note, such examples have not been wanting. The late Duke of Sussex did a national service when he desired to be laid, in the equality of death, in the cemetery of Kensal Green, and not with the pageantry of a State Funeral in the Royal vault at Windsor. Sir Robert Peel requested to be buried at Drayton. The late Queen Dowager left a pattern to every rank in these touching and admirable words. ‘I die in all humility, knowing well that we are all alike before the Throne of God; and I request, therefore, that my mortal remains be conveyed to the grave without any pomp or state. They are to be removed to St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, where I request to have as private and quiet a funeral as possible. I particularly desire not to be laid out in state. I die in peace and wish to be carried to the tomb in peace, and free from the vanities and pomp of this world. I request not to be dissected or embalmed, and desire to give as little trouble as possible.’

With such precedents and such facts fresh in the general knowledge, and at this transition-time in so serious a chapter of our social history, the obsolete custom of a State Funeral has been revived, in miscalled ‘honor’ of the late Duke of Wellington. To whose glorious memory be all true honor while England lasts!

We earnestly submit to our readers that there is, and that there can be, no kind of honor in such a revival; that the more truly great the man, the more truly little the ceremony; and that it has been, from first to last, a pernicious instance and encouragement of the demoralising practice of trading in Death.

It is within the knowledge of the whole public, of all diversities of political opinion, whether or no any of the Powers that be, have traded in this Death - have saved it up, and petted it, and made the most of it, and reluctantly let it go. On that aspect of the question we offer no further remark.

But, of the general trading spirit which, in its inherent emptiness and want of consistency and reality, the longdeferred State Funeral has appropriately awakened, we will proceed to furnish a few instances all faithfully copied from the advertising columns of The Times.

First, of seats and refreshments. Passing over that desirable first-floor where a party could be accommodated with ‘the use of a piano’; and merely glancing at the decorous daily announcement of ‘The Duke of Wellington Funeral Wine,’ which was in such high demand that immediate orders were necessary; and also ‘The Duke of Wellington Funeral Cake,’ which ‘delicious article’ could only be had of such a baker; and likewise ‘The Funeral Life Preserver,’ which could only be had of such a tailor; and further ‘the celebrated lemon biscuits,’ at one and fourpence per pound, which were considered by the manufacturer as the only infallible assuagers of the national grief; let us pass in review some dozen of the more eligible opportunities the public had of profiting by the occasion.

LUDGATE HILL. - The fittings and arrangements for viewing this grand and solemnly imposing procession are now completed at this establishment, and those who are desirous of obtaining a fine and extensive view, combined with every personal convenience and comfort, will do well to make immediate inspection of the SEATS now remaining on hand.

FUNERAL, including Beds the night previous. - To be LET, a SECOND FLOOR, of three rooms, two windows, having a good view of the procession. Terms, including refreshment, 10 guineas. Single places, including bed and breakfast, from 15s.

THE DUKE’S FUNERAL. - A first-rate VIEW for 15 persons, also good clean beds and a sitting-room on reasonable terms.

SEATS and WINDOWS to be LET, in the best part of the Strand, a few doors from Coutts’s banking-house. First floor windows, £8 each; second floor, £5 10s. each; third floor, £3 10s. each; two plate-glass shop windows, £7 each.

SEATS to VIEW the DUKE of WELLINGTON’S FUNERAL. Best position of all the route, no obstruction to the view. Apply Old Bailey. N.B. From the above position you can nearly see to St. Paul’s and to Temple-bar.

FUNERAL of the late Duke of WELLINGTON. - To be LET, a SECOND FLOOR, two windows, firing and every convenience. Terms moderate for a party. Also a few seats in front, one guinea each. Commanding a view from Piccadilly to Pall-mall.

FUNERAL of the DUKE of WELLINGTON. - The FIRST and SECOND FLOORS to be LET, either by the room or window, suited to gentlemen’s families, for whom every comfort and accommodation will be provided, and commanding the very best view of this imposing spectacle. The ground floor is also fitted up with commodious seats, ranging in price from one guinea. Apply on the premises.

THE DUKE’S FUNERAL. - Terms very moderate. - TWO FIRST FLOOR ROOMS, with balcony and private entrance out of the Strand. The larger room capable of holding 15 persons. The small room to be let for eight guineas.

THE DUKE’S FUNERAL. - To be LET, a SHOP WINDOW, with seats erected for about 30, for 25 guineas. Also a Furnished First Floor, with two large windows. One of the best views in the whole range from Temple-bar to St. Paul’s. Price 35 guineas. A few single seats one guinea each.

THE FUNERAL PROCESSION of the DUKE of WELLINGTON. - Cockspur-street, Charing-cross, decidedly the best position in the whole route, a few SEATS still DISENGAGED, which will be offered at reasonable prices. An early application is requisite, as they are fast filling up. Also a few places on the roof. A most excellent view.

FUNERAL of the Late DUKE of WELLINGTON. - To be LET, in the best part of the Strand, a SECOND FLOOR, for £10; a Third Floor, £7 10s., containing two windows in each; front seats in shop, at one guinea.

THE DUKE’S FUNERAL. - To be LET, for 25 guineas to a genteel family, in one of the most commanding situations in the line of route, a FIRST FLOOR, with safe balcony, and ante-room. Will accommodate 20 persons, with an uninterrupted and extensive view for all. For a family of less number a reduction will be made. Every accommodation will be afforded.

But above all let us not forget the

NOTICE TO CLERGYMEN. - T.C. Fleet-street, has reserved for clergymen exclusively, upon condition only that they appear in their surplices, FOUR FRONT SEATS, at £1 each; four second tier, at 15s. each; four third tier, at 12s. 6d.; four fourth tier, at 10s.; four fifth tier, at 7s. 6d.; and four sixth tier, at 5s. All the other seats are respectively 40s., 30s., 20s., 15s., 10s.

The anxiety of this enterprising tradesman to get up a reverend tableau in his shop-window of four-and-twenty clergymen all on six rows, is particularly commendable, and appears to us to shed a remarkable grace on the solemnity.

These few specimens are collected at random from scores upon scores of such advertisements, mingled with descriptions of non-existent ranges of view, and with invitations to a few agreeable gentlemen who are wanted to complete a little assembly of kindred souls, who have laid in abundance of ‘refreshments, wines, spirits, provisions, fruit, plate, glass, china,’ and other light matters too numerous to mention, and who keep ‘good fires.’ On looking over them we are constantly startled by the words in large capitals, ‘WOULD TO GOD NIGHT OR BLUCHER WERE COME!’ which, referring to a work of art, are relieved by a legend setting forth how the lamented hero observed of it, ‘in his characteristic manner, “Very good; very good indeed.”’ O Art! You too trading in Death!

Then, autographs fall into their place in the State Funeral train. The sanctity of a seal, or the confidence of a letter, is a meaningless phrase that has no place in the vocabulary of the Traders in Death. Stop, trumpets, in the Dead March, and blow to the world how characteristic we autographs are!

WELLINGTON AUTOGRAPHS. - TWO consecutive LETTERS of the DUKE’S (1843) highly characteristic and authentic, with the Correspondence, &c. that elicited them, the whole forming quite a literary curiosity, for £15.

WELLINGTON AUTOGRAPHS. - To be DISPOSED OF, TWO AUTOGRAPH LETTERS of the DUKE of WELLINGTON, one dated Walmer Castle, 9th October, 1834, the other London, 17th May, 1843, with their post-marks and seals.

WELLINGTON. - THREE original NOTES, averaging 2¼ pages each, (not lithographs,) seal, and envelopes, to be SOLD. Supposed to be the most characteristic of his Grace yet published. The highest sum above £30 for the two, or £20 for the one, which is distinct, will be accepted.

TO BE DISPOSED OF, by a retired officer, FIVE LETTERS and NOTES of the late HERO - three when Sir A. Wellesley. Also a large Envelope. All with seals. Apply personally, or by letter.

THE DUKE’S LETTERS. - TWO highly interesting LETTERS, authentic, and relating to a most amusing and characteristic circumstance, to be SOLD.

THE DUKE of WELLINGTON. - AUTOGRAPH LETTER to a lady, with seal and envelope. This is quite in the Duke’s peculiar style, and will be parted with for the highest offer. Apply — where the letter can be seen.

F.M. the DUKE of WELLINGTON. - To be SOLD, by a member of the family, to whom it was written, an ORIGINAL AUTOGRAPH LETTER of the late Duke of Wellington, on military affairs, six pages long, in the best preservation. Price £30.

FIELD-MARSHAL the DUKE of WELLINGTON’S AUTOGRAPH. - A highly characteristic LETTER of the DUKE’S for DISPOSAL, wherein he alludes to his living 100 years, date 1847, with envelope. Seal, with crest perfect. £10 will be taken.

DUKE of WELLINGTON. - An AUTOGRAPH LETTER of the DUKE, written immediately after the death of the Duchess in 1831, is for SALE; also Two Autograph Envelopes franked and sealed.

DUKE of WELLINGTON. - AUTOGRAPH BUSINESS LETTER, envelope, seal, post-mark, &c. complete. Style courteous and highly characteristic. Will be shown by the party and at the place addressed. Price £15.

FIELD-MARSHAL the DUKE of WELLINGTON. - TWO AUTOGRAPH LETTERS of His Grace, one written in his 61st, the other in his 72d year, both firstrate specimens of his characteristic graphic style, and on an important subject, to be SOLD. Their genuineness can be fully proved.

THE DUKE of WELLINGTON. - A very curious DOCUMENT, partly printed, and the rest written by His Grace to a lady. This is well worthy of a place in the cabinet of the curious. There is nothing like it. Highest offer will be taken.

TO be SOLD, SIX AUTOGRAPH LETTERS from F. M. the Duke of WELLINGTON, with envelopes and seals, which have been most generously given to aid a lady in distressed circumstances.

THE DUKE of WELLINGTON. - A lady has in her possession a LETTER, written by his Grace on the 18th of June, in the present year, and will be happy to DISPOSE OF the same. The letter is rendered more valuable by its being written on the last anniversary which his Grace was spared to celebrate. The letter bears date from Apsley House, with perfect envelope and seal.

A CLERGYMAN has TWO LETTERS, with Envelopes, addressed to him by the late DUKE, and bearing striking testimony to the extent of his Grace’s private charities, to be DISPOSED OF at the highest offer (for one or both) received by the 18th instant. The offers may be contingent on further particulars being satisfactory.

THE DUKE of WELLINGTON. - A widow, in deep distress, has in her possession an AUTOGRAPH LETTER of his Grace the Duke of WELLINGTON, written in 1830, enclosed and directed in an envelope, and sealed with his ducal coronet, which she would be happy to PART WITH for a trifle.

VALUABLE AUTOGRAPH NOTE of the late Duke of WELLINGTON, dated March 27, 1850, to be SOLD, for £20, by the gentleman to whom it was addressed, together with envelope, perfect impression of Ducal seal, and Knightsbridge post-mark distinct. The whole in excellent preservation. A better specimen of the noble Duke’s handwriting and highly characteristic style cannot be seen.

ONE of the last LETTERS of the DUKE of WELLINGTON for DISPOSAL, dated from Walmer Castle within a day or two of his death, highly characteristic, with seal and post-marks distinct. This being probably the last letter written by the late Duke its interest as a relic must be greatly enhanced. The highest offer accepted. May be seen on application.

THE GREAT DUKE. - A LETTER of the GREAT HERO, dated March 27, 1851, to be SOLD. Also a beautiful Letter from Jenny Lind, dated June 20, 1852. The highest offer will be accepted. Address with offers of price.

Miss Lind’s autograph would appear to have lingered in the shade until the Funeral Train came by, when it modestly stepped into the procession and took a conspicuous place. We are in doubt which to admire most; the ingenuity of this little stroke of business; or the affecting delicacy that sells ‘probably the last letter written by the late Duke’ before the aged hand that wrote it under some manly sense of duty, is yet withered in its grave; or the piety of that excellent clergyman - did he appear in his surplice in the front row of T. C.’s shop-window? - who is so anxious to sell ‘striking testimony to the extent of His Grace’s private charities;’ or the generosity of that Good Samaritan who poured ‘six letters with envelopes and seals’ into the wounds of the lady in distressed circumstances.

Lastly come the relics - precious remembrances worn next to the bereaved heart, like Hardy’s miniature of Nelson, and never to be wrested from the advertisers but with ready money.

MEMENTO of the late DUKE of WELLINGTON. - To be DISPOSED OF, a LOCK of the late illustrious DUKE’S HAIR. Can be guaranteed. The highest offer will be accepted. Apply by letter prepaid.

THE DUKE of WELLINGTON. - A LOCK of HAIR of the late Duke of WELLINGTON to be DISPOSED OF, now in the possession of a widow lady. Cut off the morning the Queen was crowned. Apply by letter post paid.

VALUABLE RELIC of the late DUKE of WELLINGTON. - A lady, having in her possession a quantity of the late illustrious DUKE’S HAIR, cut in 1841, is willing to PART WITH a portion of the same for £25. Satisfactory proof will be given of its identity, and of how it came into the owner’s possession, on application by letter, pre-paid.

RELIC of the DUKE of WELLINGTON for SALE. - The son of the late well-known haircutter to his Grace the late Duke of Wellington, at Strathfieldsaye, has a small quantity of HAIR, that his father cut from the Duke’s head, which he is willing to DISPOSE OF. Any one desirous of possessing such a relic of England’s hero are requested to make their offer for the same, by letter.

RELICS of the late DUKE of WELLINGTON. - For SALE, a WAISTCOAT, in good preservation, worn by his Grace some years back, which can be well authenticated as such.

Next, a very choice article - quite unique - the value of which may be presumed to be considerably enhanced by the conclusive impossibility of its being doubted in the least degree by the most suspicious mind.

A MEMENTO of the DUKE of WELLINGTON. - La Mort de Napoleon. Ode d’Alexandre Manzoni, avec la Traduction en Français, par Edmond Angelini, de Venise. - A book, of which the above is the title, was torn up by the Duke and thrown by him from the carriage, in which he was riding, as he was passing through Kent: the pieces of the book were collected and put together by a person who saw the Duke tear it and throw the same away. Any person desirous of obtaining the above memento will be communicated with.

Finally, a literary production of astonishing brilliancy and spirit; without which, we are authorised to state, no nobleman’s or gentleman’s library can be considered complete.

DUKE of WELLINGTON and SIR R. PEEL. - A talented, interesting, and valuable WORK, on Political Economy and Free Trade, was published in 1830, and immediately bought up by the above statesmen, except one copy, which is now for DISPOSAL. Apply by letter only.

Here, for the reader’s sake, we terminate our quotations. They might easily have been extended through the whole of the present number of this Journal.

We believe that a State Funeral at this time of day - apart from the mischievously confusing effect it has on the general mind, as to the necessary union of funeral expense and pomp with funeral respect, and the consequent injury it may do to the cause of a great reform most necessary for the benefit of all classes of society - is, in itself, so plainly a pretence of being what it is not: is so unreal, such a substitution of the form for the substance: is so cut and dried, and stale: is such a palpably got up theatrical trick: that it puts the dread solemnity of death to flight, and encourages these shameless traders in their dealings on the very coffin-lid of departed greatness. That private letters and other memorials of the great Duke of Wellington would still have been advertised and sold, though he had been laid in his grave amid the silent respect of the whole country with the simple honors of a military commander, we do not doubt; but that, in that case, the traders would have been discouraged from holding anything like this Public Fair and Great Undertakers’ Jubilee over his remains, we doubt as little. It is idle to attempt to connect the frippery of the Lord Chamberlain’s Office and the Herald’s College, with the awful passing away of that vain shadow in which man walketh and disquieteth himself in vain. There is a great gulf set between the two which is set there by no mortal hands, and cannot by mortal hands be bridged across. Does any one believe that, otherwise, ‘the Senate’ would have been ‘mourning its hero’ (in the likeness of a French Field-Marshal) on Tuesday evening, and that the same Senate would have been in fits of laughter with Mr. Hume on Wednesday afternoon when the same hero was still in question and unburied?

The mechanical exigencies of this journal render it necessary for these remarks to be written on the evening of the State Funeral. We have already indicated in these pages that we consider the State Funeral a mistake, and we hope temperately to leave the question here for temperate consideration. It is easy to imagine how it may have done much harm, and it is hard to imagine how it can have done any good. It is only harder to suppose that it can have afforded a grain of satisfaction to the immediate descendants of the great Duke of Wellington, or that it can reflect the faintest ray of lustre on so bright a name. If it were assumed that such a ceremonial was the general desire of the English people, we would reply that that assumption was founded on a misconception of the popular character, and on a low estimate of the general sense; and that the sooner both were better appreciated in high places, the better it could not fail to be for us all. Taking for granted at this writing, what we hope may be assumed without any violence to the truth; namely, that the ceremonial was in all respects well conducted, and that the English people sustained throughout, the high character they have nobly earned, to the shame of their silly detractors among their own countrymen; we must yet express our hope that State Funerals in this land went down to their tomb, most fitly, in the tasteless and tawdry Car that nodded and shook through the streets of London on the eighteenth of November, eighteen hundred and fifty-two. And sure we are, with large consideration for opposite opinions, that when History shall rescue that very ugly machine - worthy to pass under decorated Temple Bar, as decorated Temple Bar was worthy to receive it - from the merciful shadows of obscurity, she will reflect with amazement - remembering his true, manly, modest, self-contained, and genuine character - that the man who, in making it the last monster of its race, rendered his last enduring service to the country he had loved and served so faithfully, was Arthur Duke of Wellington.