首页>> 文学论坛>>散文>> 散文>> 亨利·戴维·梭罗 Henry David Thoreau   美国 United States   美国内战时期   (1817年7月12日1862年5月6日)
瓦尔登湖 Walden
  瓦尔登湖在一八五四年出世时是寂寞的,它不仅没有引起大众的注意,甚至连一些本来应该亲近它的人也不理解,对之冷落甚或讥评。它永远不会引起轰动和喧嚣,在它成为一部世界名著之后它也仍然是寂寞的,它的读者虽然比较固定,但始终不会很多,而这些读者大概也是心底深处寂寞的人,而就连这些寂寞的人大概也只有在寂寞的时候读它才悟出深味,就像徐迟先生所说,在繁忙的白昼他有时会将信将疑,觉得它并没有什么好处,直到黄昏,心情渐渐寂寞和恬静下来,才觉得“语语惊人,字字闪光,沁人肺腑,动我衷肠”,而到夜深万籁俱静之时,就更为之神往了。
  瓦尔登湖-作者简介
  
  亨利•戴维•梭罗(Henry David Thoreau,1817-1862)在19世纪美国文化巨匠中,堪称一位“异人”。他和爱默生
  瓦尔登湖瓦尔登湖
  (Ralph Waldo Emerson)、富勒(Margaret Fuller)都是“简朴生活”的宗师,他们提倡回归本心、亲近自然。这种思想不仅深深地影响了美国文化,也为整个世界带来了清新长风。 在受全家资助读完哈佛大学后,梭罗没有醉心于任何传统意义上的事业,而是开始了一个大地漫游者的漂泊生涯。1845年到1847年间,他独自一人幽居在瓦尔登湖畔的自筑木屋中,渔猎、耕耘、沉思、写作,由此产生了意义深远的《瓦尔登湖》。
  瓦尔登湖-内容提要
  
  说起《瓦尔登湖》,一定要提徐迟和海子。徐迟先生让国人知道在遥远的美洲大陆有这么一片湖水,有那么一个像庄子的美国人住在湖边。海子用决绝地弃世来表明:我想要面朝大海、春暖花开,我想要湖水漫过生命。
  
  徐迟先生以后,爱好梭罗的译者又用自己的文字和感悟重新演绎了自己心里的瓦尔登湖。而戴欢先生也不例外,历时两年,他用自己的语言叙述了瓦尔登湖。
  
  这个版本的语言流畅、妙曼,《读者》曾经选登过其中的篇章。译者对原著过长的段落重新分段,将语意转化的文字划分小节,让文字读起来更有节奏感,重新设计的节题优美练达。装帧中多彩印刷,绿色和黑色的正文排式雅致,棕色的满版插图烘托气氛。无论从开本还是封面,所有的元素都直至人心。
  瓦尔登湖瓦尔登湖
  
    ★美国自然文学的典范
    ★与《圣经》诸书一同被美国国会图书馆评为“塑造读者的25本书”
    ★当代美国读者最多的散文经典
    ★海子心中的天堂生活
  
    ★一本任何时候都能让你的心灵平静的书
  瓦尔登湖-编辑推荐
  
  哈丁(Walter Harding)曾说,《瓦尔登湖》内容丰厚、意义深远,它是简单生活的权威指南,是对大自然的真情描
  瓦尔登湖瓦尔登湖
  述,是向金钱社会的讨伐檄文,是传世久远的文学名著,是一部圣书。正因为此,它也影响了托尔斯泰、圣雄甘地等人,从而改写了一些民族和国家的命运。
  《瓦尔登湖》结构严谨,语言生动,字里行间不时闪现出哲理的灵光,颇有高山流水的味道。它的许多章节都需要反复颂读才能体味,而且感觉常读常新。或许我们无法像梭罗那样身体力行,但我们起码可以通过他的甘醇、悠扬的文辞重返自然,进入澄明之境。
  瓦尔登湖-内容精要
  
  瓦尔登的风景是卑微的,虽然很美,却并不是宏伟的,不常去游玩的人,不住在它岸边的人未必能被它吸引住。但是这一个湖以深邃和清澈著称,值得给予突出的描写。
  
  这是一个明亮的深绿色的湖,半英里长,圆周约一英里又四分之三,面积约61英亩半;它是松树和橡树林中央的岁月悠久的老湖,除了雨和蒸发之外,还没有别的来龙去脉可寻。四周的山峰突然地从水上升起,到40至 80英尺的高度,但在东南面高到100英尺,而东边更高到150英尺,其距离湖岸,不过四分之一英里及三分之一英里。山上全部都是森林。
  
  所有我们康科德地方的水波,至少有两种颜色,一种是站在远处望见的,另一种,更接近本来的颜色,是站在近处看见的。第一种更多地靠的是光,根据天色变化。在天气好的夏季里,从稍远的地方望去,它呈现了蔚蓝颜色,特别在水波荡漾的时候,但从很远的地方望去,却是一片深蓝。在风暴的天气下,有时它呈现出深石板色。海水的颜色则不然,据说它这天是蓝色的,另一天却又是绿色了,尽管天气连些微的可感知的变化也没有。
  
  我们这里的水系中,我看到当白雪覆盖这一片风景时,水和冰几乎都是草绿色的。有人认为,蓝色“乃是纯洁的水的颜色,无论那是流动的水,或凝结的水”。可是,直接从一条船上俯看近处湖水,它又有着非常之不同的色彩。甚至从同一个观察点,看瓦尔登是这会儿蓝,那忽儿绿。置身于天地之间,它分担了这两者的色素。从山顶上看,它反映天空的颜色,可是走近了看,在你能看到近岸的细砂的地方,水色先是黄澄澄的,然后是淡绿色的了,然后逐渐地加深起来,直到水波一律地呈现了全湖一致的深绿色。在有些时候的光线下,从一个山顶望去,靠近湖岸的水色也是碧绿得异常生动的。有人说,这是绿原的反映;可是在铁路轨道这儿的黄沙地带的衬托下,也同样是碧绿的,而且,在春天,树叶还没有长大,这也许是太空中的蔚蓝,调和了黄沙以后形成的一个单纯的效果。这是它的虹色彩圈的色素。
  
  也是在这一个地方,春天一来,冰块给水底反射上来的太阳的热量,也给土地中传播的太阳的热量溶解了,这里首先溶解成一条狭窄的运河的样子,而中间还是冻冰。在晴朗的气候中,像我们其余的水波,激湍地流动时,波平面是在九十度的直角度里反映了天空的,或者因为太光亮了,从较远处望去,它比天空更蓝些;而在这种时候,泛舟湖上,四处眺望倒影,我发现了一种无可比拟、不能描述的淡蓝色,像浸水的或变色的丝绸,还像青锋宝剑,比之天空还更接近天蓝色,它和那波光的另一面原来的深绿色轮番地闪现,那深绿色与之相比便似乎很混浊了。这是一个玻璃似的带绿色的蓝色,照我所能记忆的,它仿佛是冬天里,日落以前,西方乌云中露出的一角晴天。
  
  可是你举起一玻璃杯水,放在空中看,它却毫无颜色,如同装了同样数量的一杯空气一样。众所周知,一大块厚玻璃板便呈现了微绿的颜色,据制造玻璃的人说,那是“体积”的关系,同样的玻璃,少了就不会有颜色了。瓦尔登湖应该有多少的水量才能泛出这样的绿色呢,我从来都无法证明。一个直接朝下望着我们的水色的人所见到的是黑的,或深棕色的,一个到河水中游泳的人,河水像所有的湖一样,会给他染上一种黄颜色;但是这个湖水却是这样地纯洁,游泳者会白得像大理石一样,而更奇怪的是,在这水中四肢给放大了,并且给扭曲了,形态非常夸张,值得让米开朗基罗来做一番研究。
  
  水是这样的透明,25至30英尺下面的水底都可以很清楚地看到。赤脚踏水时,你看到在水面下许多英尺的地方有成群的鲈鱼和银鱼,大约只一英寸长,连前者的横行的花纹也能看得清清楚楚,你会觉得这种鱼也是不愿意沾染红尘,才到这里来生存的。
  
  有一次,在冬天里,好几年前了,为了钓梭鱼,我在冰上挖了几个洞,上岸之后,我把一柄斧头扔在冰上,可是好像有什么恶鬼故意要开玩笑似的,斧头在冰上滑过了四五杆远,刚好从一个窟窿中滑了下去,那里的水深25英尺,为了好奇,我躺在冰上,从那窟窿里望,我看到了那柄斧头,它偏在一边头向下直立着,那斧柄笔直向上,顺着湖水的脉动摇摇摆摆,要不是我后来又把它吊了起来,它可能就会这样直立下去,直到木柄烂掉为止。就在它的上面,用我带来的凿冰的凿子,我又凿了一个洞,又用我的刀,割下了我看到的附近最长的一条赤杨树枝,我做了一个活结的绳圈,放在树枝的一头,小心地放下去,用它套住了斧柄凸出的地方,然后用赤杨枝旁边的绳子一拉,这样就把那柄斧头吊了起来。
  
  湖岸是由一长溜像铺路石那样的光滑的圆圆的白石组成的;除一两处小小的沙滩之外,它陡立着,纵身一跃便可以跳到一个人深的水中;要不是水波明净得出奇,你决不可能看到这个湖的底部,除非是它又在对岸升起。有人认为它深得没有底。它没有一处是泥泞的,偶尔观察的过客或许还会说,它里面连水草也没有一根;至于可以见到的水草,除了最近给上涨了的水淹没的、并不属于这个湖的草地以外,便是细心地查看也确实是看不到菖蒲和芦苇的,甚至没有水莲花,无论是黄色的或是白色的,最多只有一些心形叶子和河蓼草,也许还有一两张眼子菜;然而,游泳者也看不到它们;便是这些水草,也像它们生长在里面的水一样的明亮而无垢。岸石伸展入水,只一二杆远,水底已是纯粹的细沙,除了最深的部分,那里总不免有一点沉积物,也许是腐朽了的叶子,多少个秋天来,落叶被刮到湖上,另外还有一些光亮的绿色水苔,甚至在深冬时令拔起铁锚来的时候,它们也会跟着被拔上来的。
  瓦尔登湖-专家点评
  
  “1845年3月尾,我借来一柄斧头,走到瓦尔登湖边的森林里,到达我预备造房子的地方,开始砍伐一些箭矢似的,高耸入云而还年幼的白松,来做我的建筑材料,那是愉快的春日,人们感到难过的冬天正跟冻土一样地消融,而蛰居的生命开始舒伸了。”
  
  这是梭罗在《瓦尔登湖》一书中记述的他的山居岁月的开始。这一年,7月4日,恰好那一天是独立日,美国的国庆,他住进了离波士顿不远的无人居住的瓦尔登湖边的山林中,从此独立生活了两年多。他在这个森林中,亲手盖起了一栋小木屋,并向世人宣告了他个人生活与精神生活的“独立”。他的小木屋里只有一张床和一套被褥,有几件简单的炊具和几件换洗的衣服。他要进行一次回归自然的实验。
  
  梭罗在小湖边自己开荒种地,每天打猎和伐木。他过着那种近似原始的、极其简朴的生活,以便认真地观察和体会人生的真谛。在这木屋里,在这湖滨的山林里,他观察着,倾听着,感受着,沉思着,并且梦想着。每天,他都要把自己回归自然以后的观察和体验,以及他的思考、感触写在日记中。他分析研究了他从自然界得来的音讯、阅历和经验,并从中探索人生,阐述人生,振奋人生。
  
  其中大部分的时间,他独自在林中,很少有客人来拜访,距离任何邻居都有一英里之遥。就这样,梭罗在瓦尔登湖畔独自生活了920天。而后,他走出森林,重新回到城市。不久,出版了根据他在小木屋里写下的那些笔记整理的散文集,题为《瓦尔登湖》。结果,美国出现一位自然主义思想家,世界上也多了一本好书。
  
  瓦尔登湖离威尔斯利镇仅30分钟的路程,从波士顿出发,也只不过个把小时,地图上并没有瓦尔登湖,只有瓦尔登池塘,瓦尔登湖是个地名,并非是一个湖,而事实上的池塘,应该是瓦尔登湖了。
  
  这里的生活是寂寞的,然而梭罗却说,“寂寞有助于健康”。梭罗还曾用诗一样的语言说: “我并不比一朵毛蕊花或牧场上的一朵蒲公英寂寞,我不比一张豆叶,一枝酢酱草,或一只马蜂更寂寞。我不比密尔溪,或一只风信鸡,或北极星,或南风更寂寞,我不比四月的雨或正月的融雪,或新屋中的第一只蜘蛛更寂寞。”
  
  现代生活中的文明人,最难以忍受的就是寂寞,最大的问题也是寂寞。在现代文明的逼迫之下,在钢筋水泥的城市森林里,人们离纯朴恬静的大自然已经越来越远,一些古朴的令人神往的原始生活已经退化得无影无踪,取而代之是嘈杂、焦灼、浮躁和不安。人们生活在最热闹的时代,却显得比所有的一切都要难以忍受寂寞。即使现代科技可以让人们在第一时间了解地球每一个角落发生的事情,却无法让人了解面对面的两个人的心思。现代生活的躁动会无孔不入,一点点信息就可以把人们弄得鸡飞狗跳,一点点情绪就把人们的心咬得千疮百孔。现代生活创造出来现代化的同时,创造出来的种种寂寞更是无可抵挡的。人们的心灵越来越孤独,却从未想过大自然的寂寞是医治文明病的最好方法。
  
  梭罗发现了瓦尔登湖,他在那里生活、阅读、倾听、种豆、生火、做饭、孤独。找到了自己思想的栖息地,寂寞不是保守,不是退隐,不是防空洞,不是与世隔绝,寂寞是放松,是轻松,是脱离复杂而廉价人际关系的沉思,是心与心默契而惬意的对话,是走出地平线之外的远游。他以选择宁静的方式选择瓦尔登湖,选择那远离喧嚣的恬静,选择在春天里那份难得的好心情,在湖边,在林中,在瓦尔登澄明的月光下,从容不迫地生活,聆听生活的教诲和真善,让自己“不至于在临终时才发现自己不曾生活过”。梭罗积极倡导一种生活观念,一种与现代物质生活日益丰富对立的简朴的生活方式。
  
  于是人们发现了梭罗,发现了慰藉心灵的良药,来抚平心灵的躁动。
  
  就像梭罗的寂寞一样,《瓦尔登湖》是安静的,极静极静的书,并不是热热闹闹的书。它是一本寂寞的书,一本孤独的书。它只是一本一个人的书。如果阅读者的心没有安静下来,恐怕就很难进入到这本书里去。
  
  梭罗研究专家哈丁说:《瓦尔登湖》至少有五种读法:作为一部自然的书籍、作为一部自力更生简单生活的指南、作为批评现代生活的一部讽刺作品、作为一部文学名著以及作为一本神圣的书。
  
  更多的人愿意把《瓦尔登湖》作为一部自力更生、简单生活的指南来读。因为梭罗经过实践发现,他能以28元来建立一个家,用0.27元来维持一周的生活。他以一年中6个星期的时间,去赚取足够一年的生活费用,剩余的46个星期,去做他喜欢做的事。因为如此《瓦尔登湖》在当时便具有了巨大的诱惑力,那几年里,梭罗的仿效者难以计数,他们引退林中,在瓦尔登湖畔建造茅舍,这成为美国风行一时的时尚。
  
  但是梭罗的湖畔独居并不能视为什么隐士生涯。他是有目的地探索人生,批判人生,振奋人生,阐述人生的更高规律。并不是消极的,他是积极的。并不是逃避人生,他是走向人生,并且就在这中间,他也曾用他自己的独特方式,投身于当时的政治斗争。他积极支持甘地的非暴力不合作运动,他也对废奴运动极其热心。他的宁静不是一潭死水,不是独善其身。
  
  在他生前,他并没有什么名声,他一生只出版了两本书。1849年自费出版了《康科德河和梅里麦克河上的一星期》,印行1000册,只售出100多册,送掉75册,存下7000多册,在书店仓库里放到1853年,全部退给作者了。梭罗曾诙谐地说,他家里大约藏书900册,自己著的书700 多册。
  
  他的第二本书就是《瓦尔登湖》。也没有受到人们的注意,初版2000册用了5年多的时间才卖完。甚至还遭到詹姆斯·洛厄尔以及罗勃特·路易斯·斯蒂文生的讥讽和批评。只有乔治·艾略特于1856年元月,在《西敏寺周报》上给他以“深沉而敏感的抒情”和“超凡入圣”的好评。
  
  随着时光的流逝,这本书的影响是越来越大,已经成为美国文学中的一本独特的、卓越的名著。到目前为止,此书已经出现了将近200多个版本,并被译成许多国家的文字。有的评论家认为《瓦尔登湖》可以作为一种19世纪的《鲁滨逊飘流记》来阅读。同时是梭罗使自然散文独立门户,赋予了它新的概念,《瓦尔登湖》堪称现代美国散文最早的榜样。与其同时代的作家霍桑、梅尔维尔以及爱默生等人的作品相比,具有截然不同之处,富于20世纪散文的风格。这一特点具体体现于它的句子平铺直叙、简洁和富有观点,完全不像维多利亚中期散文那样散漫、用词精细、矫情和具体,也没有朦胧和抽象的气息。通过阅读此书,我们会惊奇地发现这本写于19世纪的作品与海明威、亨利·詹姆斯等人的作品风格十分接近,只不过梭罗的风格更显得丰富而已。
  
  《瓦尔登湖》中有许多篇幅是形象描绘,优美细致,像湖水的纯洁透明,像山林的茂密翠绿;有一些篇幅说理透彻,十分精辟,有启发性。文字优美,字字闪光,沁人心脾。梭罗对于春天,对于黎明,做了极其动人的描写。读着这样的文字,自然会体会到,一股向上的精神不断地将阅读者提升、提高。这是100多年以前的书,至今还未失去它的意义。
  
  梭罗说,瓦尔登湖是神的一滴。这里的湖水清澈见底,可以看到湖水中的草、流动的鱼和在水流中不动的石子,湖水充满了光明和倒影,成为一个下界天空。这里的确是大自然的精灵,是上帝的神来之笔。梭罗找到了瓦尔登湖,那么是时候找一找我们自己的精神家园了。
  瓦尔登湖-妙语佳句
  
  我并不比一朵毛蕊花或牧场上的一朵蒲公英寂寞,我不比一张豆叶,一枝酢酱草,或一只马蜂更寂寞。我不比密尔溪,或一只风信鸡,或北极星,或南风更寂寞,我不比四月的雨或正月的融雪,或新屋中的第一只蜘蛛更寂寞。


  Walden (first published as Walden; or, Life in the Woods) is an American book written by noted Transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau. The work is part personal declaration of independence, social experiment, voyage of spiritual discovery, and manual for self reliance.
  
  Published in 1854, it details Thoreau's experiences over the course of two years in a cabin he built near Walden Pond, amidst woodland owned by his friend and mentor Ralph Waldo Emerson, near Concord, Massachusetts.
  
  Thoreau did not intend to live as a hermit, for he received visitors and returned their visits. Rather, he hoped to isolate himself from society to gain a more objective understanding of it. Simple living and self-sufficiency were Thoreau's other goals, and the whole project was inspired by transcendentalist philosophy, a central theme of the American Romantic Period. As Thoreau made clear in his book, his cabin was not in wilderness but at the edge of town, not far from his family home.
  
  Synopsis
  
  Economy: In this first and longest chapter, Thoreau outlines his project: a two-year and two-month stay at a cozy, "tightly shingled and plastered," English-style 10' x 15' cottage in the woods near Walden Pond. He does this, he says, to illustrate the spiritual benefits of a simplified lifestyle. He easily supplies the four necessities of life (food, shelter, clothing, and fuel) with the help of family and friends, particularly his mother, his best friend, and Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Waldo Emerson. The latter provided Thoreau with a work exchange — he could build a small house and plant a garden if he cleared some land on the woodlot and did other chores while there. Thoreau meticulously records his expenditures and earnings, demonstrating his understanding of "economy," as he builds his house and buys and grows food. For a home and freedom, he spent a mere $28.12 1/2, in 1845. At the end of this chapter, Thoreau inserts a poem, "The Pretensions of Poverty," by seventeenth-century English poet Thomas Carew. The poem criticizes those who think that their poverty gives them unearned moral and intellectual superiority.
  
  Where I Lived, and What I Lived For: After playing with the idea of buying a farm, Thoreau describes his house's location. Then he explains that he took up his abode at Walden Woods so as to "live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." Although he criticizes the dedication of his neighbors to working, he himself is quite busy at Walden — building and maintaining his house, raising thousands of bean plants and other vegetables, making bread, clearing land, chopping wood, making repairs for the Emersons, going into town, and writing every day. His time at Walden was his most productive as a writer.
  
  Reading: Thoreau discusses the benefits of classical literature (preferably in the original Greek or Latin), and bemoans the lack of sophistication in Concord, evident in the popularity of unsophisticated literature. He also loved to read books by world travelers. He yearns for a utopian time when each New England village supports "wise men" to educate and thereby ennoble the population.
  
  Sounds: Thoreau opens this chapter by warning against relying too much on literature as a means of transcendence. Instead, one should experience life for oneself. Thus, after describing his house's beautiful natural surroundings and his casual housekeeping habits, Thoreau goes on to criticize the train whistle that interrupts his reverie. To him, the railroad symbolizes the destruction of the pastoral way of life. Following is a description of the sounds audible from his cabin: the church bells ringing, carriages rattling and rumbling, cows lowing, whip-poor-wills singing, owls hooting, frogs croaking, and cockerels crowing.
  
  Solitude: Thoreau rhapsodizes about the beneficial effects of living solitary and close to nature. He claims to love being alone, saying "I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude."
  
  Visitors: Thoreau writes about the visitors to his house. Among the 25 or 30 visitors is a young French-Canadian woodchopper, Alec Therien, whom Thoreau idealizes as approaching the ideal man, and a runaway slave, whom Thoreau helps on his journey to freedom in Canada.
  
  The Bean-Field: Thoreau relates his efforts to cultivate two and a half acres of beans. He plants in June and spends his summer mornings weeding the field with a hoe. He sells most of the crop, and his small profit of $8.71 covers his needs that were not provided by friends and family.
  
  The Village: Thoreau visits the small town of Concord every day or two to hear the news, which he finds "as refreshing in its way as the rustle of the leaves." Nevertheless, he fondly but rather contemptuously compares Concord to a gopher colony. In late summer, he is arrested for refusing to pay federal taxes, but is released the next day. He explains that he refuses to pay taxes to a government that supports slavery.
  
  The Ponds: In autumn, Thoreau rambles about the countryside and writes down his observations about the geography of Walden Pond and its neighbors: Flint's Pond (or Sandy Pond), White Pond, and Goose Pond. Although Flint's is the largest, Thoreau's favorites are Walden and White ponds, which he says are lovelier than diamonds.
  
  Baker Farm: While on an afternoon ramble in the woods, Thoreau gets caught in a rainstorm and takes shelter in the dirty, dismal hut of John Field, a penniless but hard-working Irish farmhand, and his wife and children. Thoreau urges Field to live a simple but independent and fulfilling life in the woods, thereby freeing himself of employers and creditors. But the Irishman won't give up his dreams of luxury, which is the American dream.
  
  Higher Laws: Thoreau discusses whether hunting wild animals and eating meat is good. He concludes that the primitive, animal side of humans drives them to kill and eat animals, and that a person who transcends this propensity is superior to those who don't. (Thoreau eats fish and occasionally salt pork and woodchuck.) In addition to vegetarianism, he lauds chastity, work, and teetotalism. He also recognizes that Indians need to hunt and kill moose for survival in "The Maine Woods," and ate moose on a trip to Maine while he was living at Walden.
  
  Brute Neighbors: Thoreau briefly discusses the many wild animals that are his neighbors at Walden. A description of the nesting habits of partridges is followed by a fascinating account of a massive battle between red and black ants. Three of the combatants he takes into his cabin and examines under a microscope as the black ant kills the two smaller red ones. Later, Thoreau takes his boat and tries to follow a teasing loon about the pond. He also collects animal specimens and ships them to Harvard College for study.
  
  House-Warming: After picking November berries in the woods, Thoreau adds a chimney, and finely plasters the walls of his sturdy house to stave off the cold of the oncoming winter. He also lays in a good supply of firewood, and expresses affection for wood and fire.
  
  Former Inhabitants; and Winter Visitors: Thoreau relates the stories of people who formerly lived in the vicinity of Walden Pond. Then he talks about a few of the visitors he receives during the winter: a farmer, a woodchopper, and his best friend, the poet Ellery Channing.
  
  Winter Animals: Thoreau amuses himself by watching wildlife during the winter. He relates his observations of owls, hares, red squirrels, mice, and various birds as they hunt, sing, and eat the scraps and corn he put out for them. He also describes a fox hunt that passes by.
  
  The Pond in Winter: Thoreau describes Walden Pond as it appears during the winter. He claims to have sounded its depths and located an underground outlet. Then he recounts how 100 laborers came to cut great blocks of ice from the pond, the ice to be shipped to the Carolinas.
  
  Spring: As spring arrives, Walden and the other ponds melt with stentorian thundering and rumbling. Thoreau enjoys watching the thaw, and grows ecstatic as he witnesses the green rebirth of nature. He watches the geese winging their way north, and a hawk playing by itself in the sky. As nature is reborn, the narrator implies, so is he. He departs Walden on September 6, 1847.
  
  Conclusion: This final chapter is more passionate and urgent than its predecessors. In it, he criticizes conformity: "If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." By doing so, men may find happiness and self-fulfillment.
  
   "I do not say that John or Jonathan will realize all this; but such is the character of that morrow which mere lapse of time can never make to dawn. The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us. Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star."
  
  Themes
  
  Walden emphasizes the importance of solitude, contemplation, and closeness to nature in transcending the "desperate" existence that, he argues, is the lot of most people. The book is not a traditional autobiography, but combines autobiography with a social critique of contemporary Western culture's consumerist and materialist attitudes and its distance from and destruction of nature. That the book is not simply a criticism of society, but also an attempt to engage creatively with the better aspects of contemporary culture, is suggested both by Thoreau's proximity to Concord society and by his admiration for classical literature. There are signs of ambiguity, or an attempt to see an alternative side of something common.
  
  Thoreau regarded his sojourn at Walden as an experiment with a threefold purpose. First, he was escaping the dehumanizing effects of the Industrial Revolution by returning to a simpler, agrarian lifestyle. Second, he was simplifying his life and reducing his expenditures, increasing the amount of leisure time in which he could work on his writings (most of A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers was written at Walden). Much of the book is devoted to stirring up awareness of how one's life is lived, materially and otherwise, and how one might choose to live it more deliberately. Third, he was putting into practice the Transcendentalist belief that one can best "transcend" normality and experience the Ideal, or the Divine, through nature.
译本序
  你能把你的心安静下来吗?如果你的心并没有安静下来,我说,你也许最好是先把你的心安静下来,然后你再打开这本书,否则你也许会读不下去,认为它太浓缩,难读,艰深,甚至会觉得它莫明其妙,莫知所云。
   这个中译本的第一版是1949年在上海出版的。那时正好举国上下,热气腾腾。解放全中国的伟大战争取得了辉煌胜利,因此注意这本书的人很少。
   但到了五十年代,在香港却有过一本稍稍修订了它的译文的,署名吴明实(无名氏)的盗印本,还一再再版,再版达六版之多。
   这个中译本的在国内再版,则是在初版之后三十二年的1982年,还是在上海,经译者细加修订之后,由译文出版社出第二版的。这次印数一万三千册。几年前,《外国古典文学名著丛书》编委会决定,将它收入这套丛书,要我写一篇新序。那时我正好要去美国,参加一个“国际写作计划”,有了可能去访问马萨堵塞州的康科德城和瓦尔登湖了。在美国时,我和好几个大学的中外教授进行了关于这本书的交谈,他们给了我很多的帮助。于今回想起来,是十分感谢他们的。
   对这第二版的译文我又作了些改进,并订正了一两处误译,只是这一篇新序却总是写不起来。1985年写了一稿,因不满意,收回重写。然一连几年,人事倥偬,新序一直都没有写出来。为什么呢?最近找出了原因来,还是我的心没有安静下来。就是国为这个了,这回可找到了原因,就好办了。心真正地安静了下来,这总是可以做到的。就看你自己怎么安排了。为何一定要这样做?因为这本《瓦尔登湖》是本静静的书,极静极静的书,并不是热热闹闹的书。它是一本寂寞的书,一本孤独的书。它只是一本一个人的书。如果你的心没有安静下来,恐怕你很难进入到这本书里去。我要告诉你的是,在你的心静下来以后,你就会思考一些什么。在你思考一些什么问题时,你才有可能和这位亨利,戴维·梭罗先生一起,思考一下自己,更思考一下更高的原则。
   这位梭罗先生是与孤独结伴的。他常常只是一个人。他认为没有比孤独这个伴儿更好的伴儿了。他的生平十分简单,十分安静。1817年7月12日梭罗生于康科德城;就学并毕业于哈佛大学(1833-1837年);回到家乡,执教两年(1838-1840年)。然后他住到了大作家、思想家拉尔夫·沃尔多·爱默生家里(1841-1843年),当门徒,又当助手,并开始尝试写作。到1845年,他就单身只影,拿了一柄斧头,跑进了无人居住的瓦尔登湖边的山林中,独居到1847年才回到康城。1848年他又住在爱默生家里;1849年,他完成了一本叫作《康科德河和梅里麦克河上的一星期》的书。差不多同时,他发表了一篇名为《消极反抗》(On Civil Disobedience)的极为著名的、很有影响的论文,按字面意义,这也可以译为“民的不服从权利”。后面我们还要讲到它。然后,到了1854年,我们的这本文学名著《瓦尔登湖》出版了。本书有了一些反响,但开始的时候并不大。随时间的推移,它的影响越来越大。1859年,他支持了反对美国蓄奴制度的运动;当这个运动的领导人约翰·布朗竟被逮捕,且被判绞刑处死时,他发表了为布朗辩护和呼吁的演讲,并到教堂敲响钟声,举行了悼念活动。此后他患了肺病,医治无效,于1862年病逝于康城,终年仅44岁。他留下了《日记》39卷,自有人给他整理,陆续出版,已出版有多种版本和多种选本问世。
   他的一生是如此之简单而馥郁,又如此之孤独而芬芳。也可以说,他的一生十分不简单,也毫不孤独。他的读者将会发现,他的精神生活十分丰富,而且是精美绝伦,世上罕见,和他交往的人不多,而神交的人可就多得多了。
   他对自己的出生地,即马省的康城,深感自豪。康城是爆发了美国独立战争的首义之城。他说过,永远使他惊喜的是他“出生于全世界最可尊敬的地点”之一,而且“时间也正好合适”,适逢美国知识界应运而生的、最活跃的年代。在美洲大陆上,最早的欧洲移民曾居住的“新英格兰”六州,正是美国文化的发祥之地。而正是在马省的康城,点燃起来了美国精神生活的辉耀火炬。小小的康城,风光如画。一下子,那里出现了四位大作家:爱默生,霍桑,阿尔考特,和他,梭罗。1834年,爱默生定居于康城,曾到哈佛大学作了以《美国学者》为题的演讲。爱默生演讲,撰文,出书,宣扬有典型性的先知先觉的卓越的人,出过一本《卓越的人》,是他的代表作。他以先驱者身份所发出的号召,给了梭罗以深刻的影响。
   梭罗大学毕业后回到康城,正好是他二十岁之时。1837年10月22日,那天他记下了他的第一篇日记:
   “‘你现在在于什么?’他问。‘你记日记吗?’好吧,我今天开始,记下了这第一条。
   “如果要孤独,我必须要逃避现在——我要我自己当心。在罗马皇帝的明镜大殿里我怎么能孤独得起来呢?我宁可找一个阁楼。在那里是连蜘蛛也不受干扰的,更不用打扫地板了,也用不到一堆一堆地堆放柴火。”
   那个条文里面的“他”,那个发问的人就是爱默生,这真是一槌定了音的。此后,梭罗一直用日记或日志的形式来记录思想。日记持续了二十五年不断。正像卢梭写的《一个孤独的散步者的思想》一样,他写的也是一个孤独者的日记。而他之要孤独,是因为他要思想,他爱思想。
   稍后,在1838年2月7日,他又记下了这样一条:
   “这个斯多噶主义者(禁欲主义者)的芝诺(希腊哲人)跟他的世界的关系,和我今天的情况差不多。说起来,他出身于一个商人之家——有好多这样的人家呵!——会做生意,会讲价钱,也许还会吵吵嚷嚷,然而他也遇到过风浪,翻了船,船破了,他漂流到了皮拉乌斯海岸,就像什么约翰,什么汤麦斯之类的平常人中间的一个人似的。
   “他走进了一家店铺子,而被色诺芬(希腊军人兼作家)的一本书(《长征记》)迷住了。从此以后他就成了一个哲学家。一个新我的日子在他的面前升了起来……尽管芝诺的血肉之躯还是要去航海呵,去翻船呵,去受凤吹浪打的苦呵,然而芝诺这个真
   正的人,却从此以后,永远航行在一个安安静静的海洋上了。”
   这里梭罗是以芝诺来比拟他自己的,并也把爱默生比方为色诺芬了。梭罗虽不是出生于一个商人之家,他却是出身于一个商人的时代,至少他也得适应于当时美国的商业化精神,梭罗的血肉之躯也是要去航海的,他的船也是要翻的,他的一生中也要遇到风吹和浪打的经历的,然而真正的梭罗却已在一个安安静静的海洋上,他向往于那些更高的原则和卓越的人,他是向往于哲学家和哲学了。
   就在这篇日记之后的第四天,爱默生在他自己的日记上也记着:“我非常喜欢这个年轻的朋友了。仿佛他已具有一种自由的和正直的心智,是我从来还未遇到过的。”过了几天,爱默生又在自己的日记里写:“我的亨利·梭罗可好呢,以他的单纯和明晰的智力使又一个孤独的下午温煦而充满了阳光,”四月中,爱默生还记着:“昨天下午我和亨利·梭罗去爬山,雾蒙蒙的气候温暖而且愉快,仿佛这大山如一座半圆形的大剧场,欢饮下了美酒一样,”在爱默生的推动之下,梭罗开始给《日晷》杂志寄诗写稿了。但一位要求严格的编辑还多次退了他的稿件。梭罗也在康城学院里作了一次题为《社会》的演讲,而稍稍引起了市民的注意。到1841年,爱默生就邀请了梭罗住到他家里去。当时爱默生大事宣扬他的唯心主义先验论,聚集了一班同人,就像办了个先验主义俱乐部似的。但梭罗并不认为自己是一个先验主义者。在一段日记中他写着:“人们常在我耳边叮咛,用他们的美妙理论和解决宇宙问题的各种花言巧语,可是对我并没有帮助。我还是回到那无边无际,亦无岛无屿的汪洋大海上去,一刻不停地探测着、寻找着可以下锚,紧紧地抓住不放的一处底层的好。”
   本来梭罗的家境比较困难,但还是给他上了大学,并念完了大学。然后他家里的人认为他应该出去闯天下了。可是他却宁可国家乡,在康城的一所私立中学教教书。之后不久,只大他一岁的哥哥约翰也跑来了。两人一起教书。哥哥教英语和数学,弟弟教古典名著、科学和自然史。学生们很爱戴他们俩。亨利还带学生到河上旅行,在户外上课、野餐,让学生受到以大自然为课堂,以万物为教材的生活教育。一位朋友曾称罗梭为“诗人和博物学家”,并非过誉。他的生活知识是丰富,而且是渊博的。当他孤独时,整个大自然成了他的伴侣。据爱默生的弟弟的回忆,梭罗的学生告诉过他:当梭罗讲课时,学生们静静地听着,静得连教室里掉下一支针也能听得清楚。
   1839年7月,一个十七岁的少女艾伦·西华尔来到康城,并且访问了梭罗这一家子。她到来的当天,亨利就写了一首诗。五天后的日记中还有了这么一句:“爱情是没有法子治疗的,惟有爱之弥甚之一法耳。”这大约就是为了艾伦的缘故写的。不料约翰也一样爱上了她,这就使事情复杂化了。三人经常在一起散步,在河上划船。登山观看风景,进入森林探险,他们还在树上刻下了他们的姓氏的首字。谈话是几乎没完没了的,但是这个幸福的时间并不长久。
   这年春天,哥儿俩曾造起了一条船。八月底,他们乘船沿着康科德河和梅里麦克河上作了一次航行。在旅途上,一切都很好,只是两人之间已有着一些微妙的裂纹,彼此都未言明,实际上他们已成了情敌。后来约翰曾向她求婚而被她拒绝了。再后来,亨利也给过她一封热情的信,而她回了他一封冷淡的信。不久后,艾伦就嫁给了一个牧师。这段插曲在亨利心头留下了创伤。但接着发生了一件绝对意想不到的事,1842年的元旦,约翰在一条皮子上磨利他的剃刀片刀刃时,不小心划破了他的左手中指一他用布条包扎了,没有想到两三天后化脓了,全身疼痛不堪。赶紧就医,已来不及,他得了牙关紧闭症,败血病中之一种。他很快进入了弥留状态。十天之后,约翰竟此溘然长逝了。
   突然的事变给了亨利一个最沉重的打击。他虽然竭力保持平静,回到家中却不言不语。一星期后,他也病倒了,似乎也是得了牙关紧闭症。幸而他得的并不是这种病,是得了由于心理痛苦引起来的心身病状态。整整三个月,他都在这个病中,到四月中他又出现在园子里了,才渐渐地恢复过来。
   那年亨利写了好些悼念约翰的诗。在《哥哥,你在哪里》这诗中,他问道:“我应当到哪里去/寻找你的身影?/沿着邻近的那条小河,/我还能否听到你的声音?”答复是他的兄长兼友人,约翰,已经和大自然融为一体了。他们结了绸繆,他已以大自然的容颜为他自己的容颜了,以大自然的表情表达了他自己的意念……大自然已取走了他的哥哥,约翰已成为大自然的一部分。
   从这里开始,亨利才恢复了信心和欢乐。他在日记中写着:“眼前的痛苦之沉重也说明过去的经历的甘美。悲伤的时候,多么的容易想起快乐!冬天,蜜蜂不能酿蜜,它就消耗已酿好的蜜。”这一段时间里,他是在养病,又养伤;在蛰居之中,为未来作准备,在蓄势,蓄水以待开闸了放水,便可以灌溉大地。
   在另一篇日记中,他说:“我必须承认,若问我对于社会我有了什么作为,对于人类我已致送了什么佳音,我实在寒酸得很。无疑我的寒酸不是没有原因的,我的无所建树也并非没有理由的。我就在想望着把我的生命的财富献给人们,真正地给他们最珍贵的礼物。我要在贝壳中培养出珍珠来,为他们酿制生命之蜜,我要阳光转射到公共福利上来。要没有财富要隐藏。我没有私人的东西。我的特异功能就是要为公众服务。惟有这个功能是我的私有财产。任何人都是可以天真的,因而是富有的。
   我含蕴着,并养育着珍珠,直到它的完美之时。
   恢复健康以后的梭罗又住到了爱默生家里。稍后,他到了纽约,住在市里的斯丹顿岛上,在爱默生弟弟的家里。他希望能开始建立起他的文学生涯来。恰恰因为他那种独特的风格,并不是能被人,被世俗社会所喜欢的,想靠写作来维持生活也很不容易,不久之后,他又回到了家乡。有一段时间,他帮助他父亲制造铅笔,但很快他又放弃了这种尚能营利的营生。
   于是到了1844年的秋天,爱默生在瓦尔登湖上买了一块地。当这年过去了之后,梭罗得到了这块土地的主人的允许,可以让他“居住在湖边”。终于他跨出了勇敢的一步,用他自己的话来说:
   “1845年3月尾,我借来一柄斧头,走到瓦尔登湖边的森林里,到达我预备造房子的地方,开始砍伐一些箭矢似的,高耸入云而还年幼的白松,来做我的建筑材料……那是愉快的春日、人们感到难过的冬天正跟冻土一样地消溶,而蛰居的生命开始舒伸了。”
   7月4日,恰好那一天是独立日,美国的国庆,他住进了自己盖起来的湖边的木屋。在这木屋里,这湖滨的山林里,观察着,倾听着,感受着,沉思着,并且梦想着,他独立地生活了两年又多一点时间。他记录了他的观察体会,他分析研究了他从自然界里得来的音讯、阅历和经验。决不能把他的独居湖畔看作是什么隐士生涯。他是有目的地探索人生,批判人生,振奋人生,阐述人生的更高规律。并不是消极的,他是积极的。并不是逃避人生,他是走向人生,并且就在这中间,他也曾用他自己的独特方式,投身于当时的斗争。
   那发生于一个晚上,当他进城去到一个鞋匠家中,要补一双鞋,忽然被捕,并被监禁在康城监狱中。原因是他拒绝交付人头税。他之拒付此种税款已经有六年之久。他在狱中住了一夜,毫不在意。第二天,因有人给他付清了人头税,就被释放,出来之后,他还是去到鞋匠家里,等补好了他的鞋,然后穿上它,又和一群朋友跑到几里外的一座高山上,漫游在那儿的什么州政府也看不到的越桔丛中——这便是他的有名的入狱事件。
   在1849年出版的《美学》杂志第一期上,他发表了一篇论文,用的题目是《对市政府的抵抗》。在1866年(他去世已四年)出版的《一个在加拿大的美国人,及其反对奴隶制和改革的论文集》收入这篇文章时,题目改为《民的不服从权利》。此文题目究竟应该用哪一个,读书界颇有争论,并有人专门研究这问题。我国一般地惯用了这个《消极反抗》的题名,今承其旧,不再改变。文中,梭罗并没有发出什么行动的号召,这毋宁说正是他一贯倡导的所谓“更高的原则”中之一项。他认为政府自然要做有利于人民的事,它不应该去干扰人民。但是所有的政府都没有做到这一点,更不用说这个保存了奴隶制度的美国政府了,因此他要和抵抗这一个政府,不服从这一个政府。他认为,如果政府要强迫人民去做违背良心的事,人民就应当有消极抵抗的权利,以抵制它和抵抗它。这篇《消极抵抗》的论文,首先是给了英国工党和费边主义者以影响,后来又对于以绝食方式反对英帝国主义的印度圣雄甘地的“不合作运动”与“非暴力主义”有很大的作用,对于1960年马丁·路德·金,在非洲争取民权运动也有很大的作用,对托尔斯泰的“勿以暴抗暴”的思想也有影响,以及对罗曼·罗兰也有一些影响。
   梭罗是一生都反对蓄奴制度的,不止一次帮助南方的黑奴逃亡到自由的北方。在1845年的消极反抗之后,他还写过《马省的奴隶制》(1854年)一文,他和爱默生一起支持过约翰·布朗。1859年10月,布朗企图袭击哈泼斯渡口失败而被捕,11月刑庭判处布朗以绞刑,梭罗在市会堂里发表了《为约翰·布朗请愿》的演说。布朗死后,当地不允许给布朗开追悼会时,他到市会堂敲响大钟,召集群众举行了追悼会。梭罗关于布朗的一系列文章和行动都是强烈的言行。
   这期间,梭罗患上了肺结核症,健康明显地变坏。虽然去明尼苏达作了一次医疗性的旅行,但病情并无好转。他自知已不久人世了。在最后的两年里,他平静地整理日记手稿,从中选出一些段落来写成文章,发表在《大西洋月刊》上。他平静安详地结束了他的一生,死于1862年5月6日,未满四十五岁。
   梭罗生前,只出版了两本书。1849年自费出版了《康科德河和梅里麦克河上的一星期》,这书是他在瓦尔登湖边的木屋里著写的,内容是哥儿俩在两条河上旅行的一星期中,大段大段议论文史哲和宗教等等。虽精雕细刻,却晦涩难懂,没有引起什么反响。印行一千册,只售出一百多册,送掉七十五册,存下七百多册,在书店仓库里放到1853年,全部退给作者了。梭罗曾诙谐他说,我家里大约藏书九百册,自己著的书七百多册。
   他的第二本书就是《瓦尔登湖》了,于1854年出版。也没有受到应有的注意,甚至还受到詹姆斯·洛厄尔以及罗勃特·路易斯·斯蒂文生的讥讽和批评。但乔治·艾略特在1856年元月,却在《西敏寺周报》上给他以“深沉而敏感的抒情”和“超凡入圣”的好评。那些自以为是的,只知道要按照他们的规范,来规规矩矩地生活的人,往往受不了他们毫不理解的事物的价值,自然要把梭罗的那种有历史意义的行为,看作不切实际的幻梦虚妄了。
   随着时光的流逝,这本书的影响是越来越大,业已成为美国文学中的一本独特的,卓越的名著。他一生所写的39卷手稿,是他的日记或日志,其中记录着他的观察、思维、理想和信念。他在世时的,在报刊上发表过的文章,他去世后己收集、整理好,出版了的计有《旅行散记》(1863年)、《缅因森林》(1864年)、《科德角》(1865年)三种。他的全集出版有《梭罗文集》,有1906年的和1971年的两种版本。此外是他的日记,有《梭罗:一个作家的日记》、《梭罗日记》两卷本、《梭罗日记之心》的精选本等。以上只是梭罗生平的一个简单的介绍。下面再说一点他的这本书。
   对于《瓦尔登湖》,不须多说什么,只是还要重复一下,这是一本寂寞、恬静、智慧的书。其分析生活,批判习俗,有独到处。自然颇有一些难懂的地方,作者自己也说过,“请原谅我说话晦涩,”例如那失去的猎犬,粟色马和斑鸠的寓言,爱默生的弟弟爱德华问过他是什么意思。他反问:“你没有失去吗?”却再也没有回答了。有的评论家说,梭罗失去过一个艾伦(斑鸠),一个约翰(猎犬),可能还失去了一个拉尔夫(栗色马)。谁个又能不失却什么呢?
   本书内也有许多篇页是形象描绘,优美细致,像湖水的纯洁透明,像山林的茂密翠绿;有一些篇页说理透彻,十分精辟,有启发性。这是一百多年以前的书,至今还未失去它的意义。在自昼的繁忙生活中,我有时读它还读不进去,似乎我异常喜欢的这本书忽然又不那么可爱可喜了,似乎觉得它什么好处也没有,甚至弄得将信将疑起来。可是黄昏以后,心情渐渐的寂寞和恬静下来,再读此书,则忽然又颇有味,而看的就是白天看不出好处辨不出味道的章节,语语惊人,字字闪光,沁人心肺,动我衷肠。到了夜深人静,万籁无声之时,这《瓦尔登湖》毫不晦涩,清澄见底,吟诵之下,不禁为之神往了。
   应当指出,这本书是一本健康的书,对于春天,对于黎明,作了极其动人的描写。读着它,自然会体会到,一股向上的精神不断地将读者提升、提高。书已经摆在读者面前了,我不必多说什么了,因为说得再好,也比不上读者直接去读了。
   人们常说,作家应当找一个僻静幽雅的去处,去进行创作:信然,然而未必尽然。我反而认为,读书确乎在需要一个幽静良好的环境,尤其读好书,需要的是能高度集中的精神条件。读者最需要有一个朴素淡泊的心地。读《瓦尔登湖》如果又能引起读者跑到一个山明水秀的、未受污染的地方去的兴趣,就在那样的地方读它,就更是相宜了。
   梭罗的这本书近年在西方世界更获得重视。严重污染使人们又向往瓦尔登湖和山林的澄净的清新空气。梭罗能从食物、住宅、衣服和燃料,这些生活之必需出发,以经济作为本书的开篇,他崇尚实践,含有朴素的唯物主义思想。
   译者曾得美国汉学家费正清先生暨夫人鼓励;译出后曾编入《美国文学丛书》,1949年出了第一版。1982年再版时,参考了香港吴明实的版本。译文出版社在第二版的编审过程中,对译文进行了一次全面的校订工作。对所有这些给过我帮助的人们,就在这里,深致感谢。
   译者


  When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only. I lived there two years and two months. At present I am a sojourner in civilized life again.
   I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of my readers if very particular inquiries had not been made by my townsmen concerning my mode of life, which some would call impertinent, though they do not appear to me at all impertinent, but, considering the circumstances, very natural and pertinent. Some have asked what I got to eat; if I did not feel lonesome; if I was not afraid; and the like. Others have been curious to learn what portion of my income I devoted to charitable purposes; and some, who have large families, how many poor children I maintained. I will therefore ask those of my readers who feel no particular interest in me to pardon me if I undertake to answer some of these questions in this book. In most books, the I, or first person, is omitted; in this it will be retained; that, in respect to egotism, is the main difference. We commonly do not remember that it is, after all, always the first person that is speaking. I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience. Moreover, I, on my side, require of every writer, first or last, a simple and sincere account of his own life, and not merely what he has heard of other men's lives; some such account as he would send to his kindred from a distant land; for if he has lived sincerely, it must have been in a distant land to me. Perhaps these pages are more particularly addressed to poor students. As for the rest of my readers, they will accept such portions as apply to them. I trust that none will stretch the seams in putting on the coat, for it may do good service to him whom it fits.
   I would fain say something, not so much concerning the Chinese and Sandwich Islanders as you who read these pages, who are said to live in New England; something about your condition, especially your outward condition or circumstances in this world, in this town, what it is, whether it is necessary that it be as bad as it is, whether it cannot be improved as well as not. I have travelled a good deal in Concord; and everywhere, in shops, and offices, and fields, the inhabitants have appeared to me to be doing penance in a thousand remarkable ways. What I have heard of Bramins sitting exposed to four fires and looking in the face of the sun; or hanging suspended, with their heads downward, over flames; or looking at the heavens over their shoulders "until it becomes impossible for them to resume their natural position, while from the twist of the neck nothing but liquids can pass into the stomach"; or dwelling, chained for life, at the foot of a tree; or measuring with their bodies, like caterpillars, the breadth of vast empires; or standing on one leg on the tops of pillars -- even these forms of conscious penance are hardly more incredible and astonishing than the scenes which I daily witness. The twelve labors of Hercules were trifling in comparison with those which my neighbors have undertaken; for they were only twelve, and had an end; but I could never see that these men slew or captured any monster or finished any labor. They have no friend Iolaus to burn with a hot iron the root of the hydra's head, but as soon as one head is crushed, two spring up.
   I see young men, my townsmen, whose misfortune it is to have inherited farms, houses, barns, cattle, and farming tools; for these are more easily acquired than got rid of. Better if they had been born in the open pasture and suckled by a wolf, that they might have seen with clearer eyes what field they were called to labor in. Who made them serfs of the soil? Why should they eat their sixty acres, when man is condemned to eat only his peck of dirt? Why should they begin digging their graves as soon as they are born? They have got to live a man's life, pushing all these things before them, and get on as well as they can. How many a poor immortal soul have I met well-nigh crushed and smothered under its load, creeping down the road of life, pushing before it a barn seventy-five feet by forty, its Augean stables never cleansed, and one hundred acres of land, tillage, mowing, pasture, and woodlot! The portionless, who struggle with no such unnecessary inherited encumbrances, find it labor enough to subdue and cultivate a few cubic feet of flesh.
   But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon plowed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before. It is said that Deucalion and Pyrrha created men by throwing stones over their heads behind them:--
   Inde genus durum sumus, experiensque laborum,
   Et documenta damus qua simus origine nati.
   Or, as Raleigh rhymes it in his sonorous way,--
   "From thence our kind hard-hearted is, enduring pain and care, Approving that our bodies of a stony nature are."
   So much for a blind obedience to a blundering oracle, throwing the stones over their heads behind them, and not seeing where they fell.
   Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere ignorance and mistake, are so occupied with the factitious cares and superfluously coarse labors of life that its finer fruits cannot be plucked by them. Their fingers, from excessive toil, are too clumsy and tremble too much for that. Actually, the laboring man has not leisure for a true integrity day by day; he cannot afford to sustain the manliest relations to men; his labor would be depreciated in the market. He has no time to be anything but a machine. How can he remember well his ignorance -- which his growth requires -- who has so often to use his knowledge? We should feed and clothe him gratuitously sometimes, and recruit him with our cordials, before we judge of him. The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on fruits, can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. Yet we do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly.
   Some of you, we all know, are poor, find it hard to live, are sometimes, as it were, gasping for breath. I have no doubt that some of you who read this book are unable to pay for all the dinners which you have actually eaten, or for the coats and shoes which are fast wearing or are already worn out, and have come to this page to spend borrowed or stolen time, robbing your creditors of an hour. It is very evident what mean and sneaking lives many of you live, for my sight has been whetted by experience; always on the limits, trying to get into business and trying to get out of debt, a very ancient slough, called by the Latins aes alienum, another's brass, for some of their coins were made of brass; still living, and dying, and buried by this other's brass; always promising to pay, promising to pay, tomorrow, and dying today, insolvent; seeking to curry favor, to get custom, by how many modes, only not state-prison offenses; lying, flattering, voting, contracting yourselves into a nutshell of civility or dilating into an atmosphere of thin and vaporous generosity, that you may persuade your neighbor to let you make his shoes, or his hat, or his coat, or his carriage, or import his groceries for him; making yourselves sick, that you may lay up something against a sick day, something to be tucked away in an old chest, or in a stocking behind the plastering, or, more safely, in the brick bank; no matter where, no matter how much or how little.
   I sometimes wonder that we can be so frivolous, I may almost say, as to attend to the gross but somewhat foreign form of servitude called Negro Slavery, there are so many keen and subtle masters that enslave both North and South. It is hard to have a Southern overseer; it is worse to have a Northern one; but worst of all when you are the slave-driver of yourself. Talk of a divinity in man! Look at the teamster on the highway, wending to market by day or night; does any divinity stir within him? His highest duty to fodder and water his horses! What is his destiny to him compared with the shipping interests? Does not he drive for Squire Make-a-stir? How godlike, how immortal, is he? See how he cowers and sneaks, how vaguely all the day he fears, not being immortal nor divine, but the slave and prisoner of his own opinion of himself, a fame won by his own deeds. Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate. Self-emancipation even in the West Indian provinces of the fancy and imagination -- what Wilberforce is there to bring that about? Think, also, of the ladies of the land weaving toilet cushions against the last day, not to betray too green an interest in their fates! As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.
   The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.
   When we consider what, to use the words of the catechism, is the chief end of man, and what are the true necessaries and means of life, it appears as if men had deliberately chosen the common mode of living because they preferred it to any other. Yet they honestly think there is no choice left. But alert and healthy natures remember that the sun rose clear. It is never too late to give up our prejudices. No way of thinking or doing, however ancient, can be trusted without proof. What everybody echoes or in silence passes by as true to-day may turn out to be falsehood to-morrow, mere smoke of opinion, which some had trusted for a cloud that would sprinkle fertilizing rain on their fields. What old people say you cannot do, you try and find that you can. Old deeds for old people, and new deeds for new. Old people did not know enough once, perchance, to fetch fresh fuel to keep the fire a-going; new people put a little dry wood under a pot, and are whirled round the globe with the speed of birds, in a way to kill old people, as the phrase is. Age is no better, hardly so well, qualified for an instructor as youth, for it has not profited so much as it has lost. One may almost doubt if the wisest man has learned anything of absolute value by living. Practically, the old have no very important advice to give the young, their own experience has been so partial, and their lives have been such miserable failures, for private reasons, as they must believe; and it may be that they have some faith left which belies that experience, and they are only less young than they were. I have lived some thirty years on this planet, and I have yet to hear the first syllable of valuable or even earnest advice from my seniors. They have told me nothing, and probably cannot tell me anything to the purpose. Here is life, an experiment to a great extent untried by me; but it does not avail me that they have tried it. If I have any experience which I think valuable, I am sure to reflect that this my Mentors said nothing about.
   One farmer says to me, "You cannot live on vegetable food solely, for it furnishes nothing to make bones with"; and so he religiously devotes a part of his day to supplying his system with the raw material of bones; walking all the while he talks behind his oxen, which, with vegetable-made bones, jerk him and his lumbering plow along in spite of every obstacle. Some things are really necessaries of life in some circles, the most helpless and diseased, which in others are luxuries merely, and in others still are entirely unknown.
   The whole ground of human life seems to some to have been gone over by their predecessors, both the heights and the valleys, and all things to have been cared for. According to Evelyn, "the wise Solomon prescribed ordinances for the very distances of trees; and the Roman praetors have decided how often you may go into your neighbor's land to gather the acorns which fall on it without trespass, and what share belongs to that neighbor." Hippocrates has even left directions how we should cut our nails; that is, even with the ends of the fingers, neither shorter nor longer. Undoubtedly the very tedium and ennui which presume to have exhausted the variety and the joys of life are as old as Adam. But man's capacities have never been measured; nor are we to judge of what he can do by any precedents, so little has been tried. Whatever have been thy failures hitherto, "be not afflicted, my child, for who shall assign to thee what thou hast left undone?"
   We might try our lives by a thousand simple tests; as, for instance, that the same sun which ripens my beans illumines at once a system of earths like ours. If I had remembered this it would have prevented some mistakes. This was not the light in which I hoed them. The stars are the apexes of what wonderful triangles! What distant and different beings in the various mansions of the universe are contemplating the same one at the same moment! Nature and human life are as various as our several constitutions. Who shall say what prospect life offers to another? Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant? We should live in all the ages of the world in an hour; ay, in all the worlds of the ages. History, Poetry, Mythology! -- I know of no reading of another's experience so startling and informing as this would be.
   The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say the wisest thing you can, old man -- you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind -- I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that. One generation abandons the enterprises of another like stranded vessels.
   I think that we may safely trust a good deal more than we do. We may waive just so much care of ourselves as we honestly bestow elsewhere. Nature is as well adapted to our weakness as to our strength. The incessant anxiety and strain of some is a well-nigh incurable form of disease. We are made to exaggerate the importance of what work we do; and yet how much is not done by us! or, what if we had been taken sick? How vigilant we are! determined not to live by faith if we can avoid it; all the day long on the alert, at night we unwillingly say our prayers and commit ourselves to uncertainties. So thoroughly and sincerely are we compelled to live, reverencing our life, and denying the possibility of change. This is the only way, we say; but there are as many ways as there can be drawn radii from one centre. All change is a miracle to contemplate; but it is a miracle which is taking place every instant. Confucius said, "To know that we know what we know, and that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge." When one man has reduced a fact of the imagination to be a fact to his understanding, I foresee that all men at length establish their lives on that basis.
   Let us consider for a moment what most of the trouble and anxiety which I have referred to is about, and how much it is necessary that we be troubled, or at least careful. It would be some advantage to live a primitive and frontier life, though in the midst of an outward civilization, if only to learn what are the gross necessaries of life and what methods have been taken to obtain them; or even to look over the old day-books of the merchants, to see what it was that men most commonly bought at the stores, what they stored, that is, what are the grossest groceries. For the improvements of ages have had but little influence on the essential laws of man's existence; as our skeletons, probably, are not to be distinguished from those of our ancestors.
   By the words, necessary of life, I mean whatever, of all that man obtains by his own exertions, has been from the first, or from long use has become, so important to human life that few, if any, whether from savageness, or poverty, or philosophy, ever attempt to do without it. To many creatures there is in this sense but one necessary of life, Food. To the bison of the prairie it is a few inches of palatable grass, with water to drink; unless he seeks the Shelter of the forest or the mountain's shadow. None of the brute creation requires more than Food and Shelter. The necessaries of life for man in this climate may, accurately enough, be distributed under the several heads of Food, Shelter, Clothing, and Fuel; for not till we have secured these are we prepared to entertain the true problems of life with freedom and a prospect of success. Man has invented, not only houses, but clothes and cooked food; and possibly from the accidental discovery of the warmth of fire, and the consequent use of it, at first a luxury, arose the present necessity to sit by it. We observe cats and dogs acquiring the same second nature. By proper Shelter and Clothing we legitimately retain our own internal heat; but with an excess of these, or of Fuel, that is, with an external heat greater than our own internal, may not cookery properly be said to begin? Darwin, the naturalist, says of the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego, that while his own party, who were well clothed and sitting close to a fire, were far from too warm, these naked savages, who were farther off, were observed, to his great surprise, "to be streaming with perspiration at undergoing such a roasting." So, we are told, the New Hollander goes naked with impunity, while the European shivers in his clothes. Is it impossible to combine the hardiness of these savages with the intellectualness of the civilized man? According to Liebig, man's body is a stove, and food the fuel which keeps up the internal combustion in the lungs. In cold weather we eat more, in warm less. The animal heat is the result of a slow combustion, and disease and death take place when this is too rapid; or for want of fuel, or from some defect in the draught, the fire goes out. Of course the vital heat is not to be confounded with fire; but so much for analogy. It appears, therefore, from the above list, that the expression, animal life, is nearly synonymous with the expression, animal heat; for while Food may be regarded as the Fuel which keeps up the fire within us -- and Fuel serves only to prepare that Food or to increase the warmth of our bodies by addition from without -- Shelter and Clothing also serve only to retain the heat thus generated and absorbed.
经济篇-1
  当我写后面那些篇页,或者后面那一大堆文字的时候,我是在孤独地生活着,在森林中,在马萨诸塞州的康科德城,瓦尔登湖的湖岸上,在我亲手建筑的木屋里,距离任何邻居一英里,只靠着我双手劳动,养活我自己。在那里,我住了两年又两个月。目前,我又是文明生活中的过客了。
   要不是市民们曾特别仔细地打听我的生活方式,我本不会这般唐突,拿私事来读请读者注意的。有些人说我这个生活方式怪僻,虽然我根本不觉得怪僻,考虑到我那些境遇,我只觉得非常自然,而且合情合理呢。有些人则问我有什么吃的;我是否感到寂寞,我害怕吗,等等。另下些人还好奇得很,想知道我的哪一部分收入捐给慈善事业了,还有一些人,家大口阔,想知道我赡养了多少个贫儿。所以这本书在答复这一类的问题时,请对我并无特殊兴趣的读者给以谅解。许多书,避而不用所谓第一人称的“我”字;本书是用的;这本书的特点便是“我”字用得特别多。其实,无论什么书都是第一人称在发言,我们却常把这点忘掉了。如果我的知人之深,比得上我的自知之明,我就不会畅谈自我,谈那么多了。不幸我阅历浅陋,我只得局限于这一个主题。但是,我对于每一个作家,都不仅仅要求他写他听来的别人的生活,还要求他迟早能简单而诚恳地写出自己的生活,写得好像是他从远方寄给亲人似的;因为我觉得一个人若生活得诚恳,他一定是生活在一个遥远的地方了。下面的这些文字,对于清寒的学生,或许特别地适宜。至于其余的读者,我想他们是会取其适用的。因为,没有人会削足适履的;只有合乎尺寸的衣履,才能对一个人有用。
   我乐意诉说的事物,未必是关于中国人和桑威奇岛人,而是关于你们,这些文字的读者,生活在新英格兰的居民,关于诸君的遭遇的,特别是关于生逢此世的本地居民的身外之物或环境的,诸君生活在这个人世之间,度过了什么样的生活哪;你们生活得如此糟糕是否必要呢;这种生活是否还能改善改善呢?我在康科德曾到过许多地区;无论在店铺,在公事房,在田野,到处我都看到,这里的居民仿佛都在赎罪一样,从事着成千种的惊人苦役。我曾经听说过婆罗门教的教徒,坐在四面火焰之中,眼盯着太阳,或在烈火的上面倒悬着身体;或侧转了头望青天,“直到他们无法恢复原状,更因为脖子是扭转的,所以除了液体,别的食品都不能流入胃囊中”,或者,终生用一条铁链,把自己锁在一株树下:或者,像毛毛虫一样,用他们的身体来丈量帝国的广袤土地;或者,他们独脚站立在柱子顶上——然而啊,便是这种有意识的赎罪苦行,也不见得比我天天看见的景象更不可信,更使人心惊肉跳。赫拉克勒斯从事的十二个苦役跟我的邻居所从事的苦役一比较,简直不算一回事,因为他一共也只有十二个,做完就完了,可是我从没有看到过我的邻人杀死或捕获过任何怪兽,也没有看到过他们做完过任何苦役。他们也没有依俄拉斯这样的赫拉克勒斯的忠仆,用一块火红的烙铁,来烙印那九头怪兽,它是被割去了一个头,还会长出两个头来的。
   我看见青年人,我的市民同胞,他们的不幸是,生下地来就继承了田地、庐舍、谷仓、牛羊和农具;得到它们倒是容易,舍弃它们可困难了。他们不如诞生在空旷的牧场上,让狼来给他们喂奶,他们倒能够看清楚了,自己是在何等的环境辛勤劳动。谁使他们变成了土地的奴隶?为什么有人能够享受六十英亩田地的供养,而更多人却命定了,只能啄食尘土呢?为什么他们刚生下地,就得自掘坟墓?他们不能不过人的生活,不能不推动这一切,一个劲儿地做工,尽可能地把光景过得好些。我曾遇见过多少个可怜的、永生的灵魂啊,几乎被压死在生命的负担下面,他们无法呼吸,他们在生命道上爬动,推动他们前面的一个七十五英尺长,四十英尺宽的大谷仓,一个从未打扫过的奥吉亚斯的牛圈,还要推动上百英亩土地,锄地、芟草,还要放牧和护林!可是,另一些并没有继承产业的人,固然没有这种上代传下的、不必要的磨难,却也得为他们几立方英尺的血肉之躯,委屈地生活,拼性命地做工哪。
   人可是在一个大错底下劳动的啊。人的健美的躯体,大半很快地被犁头耕了过去,化为泥土中的肥料。像一本经书里说的,一种似是而非的,通称“必然”的命运支配了人,他们所积累的财富,被飞蛾和锈霉再腐蚀掉,并且招来了胠箧的盗贼。这是一个愚蠢的生命,生前或者不明白,到临终,人们终会明白的,据说,杜卡利盎和彼尔在创造人类时,是拿石头扔到背后去。诗云:
   Inde genus durum sumus,experiensque laborum,
   Et doeumenta damus qua simus origine nati。
   后来,罗利也吟咏了两句响亮的诗:
   “从此人心坚硬,任劳任怨,
   证明我们的身体本是岩石。”
   真是太盲目地遵守错误的神示了,把石头从头顶扔到背后去,也不看一看它们坠落到什么地方去。
   大多数人,即使是在这个比较自由的国土上的人们,也仅仅因为无知和错误,满载着虚构的忧虑,忙不完的粗活,却不能采集生命的美果。操劳过度,使他们的手指粗笨了,颤抖得又大厉害,不适用于采集了。真的,劳动的人,一天又一天,找不到空闲来使得自己真正地完整无损;他无法保持人与人间最勇毅的关系;他的劳动,一到市场上,总是跌价。除了做一架机器之外,他没时间来做别的。他怎能记得他是无知的呢——他是全靠他的无知而活下来的——他不经常绞尽脑汁吗?在评说他们之前,我们先要兔费地使他穿暖、吃饱,并用我们的兴奋剂使他恢复健康。我们天性中最优美的品格,好比果实上的粉霜一样,是只能轻手轻脚,才得保全的。然而,人与人之间就是没有能如此温柔地相处。
   读者之中,这些个情况我们都知道,有人是穷困的,觉得生活不容易,有时候,甚而至于可以说连气也喘不过来。我毫不怀疑在本书的读者之中,有人不能为那吃下了肚的全部饭食和迅速磨损或已经破损的衣着付出钱来,好容易忙里偷了闲,才能读这几页文字,那还是从债主那里偷来的时间。你们这许多人过的是何等低卑、躲来躲去的生活啊,这很明显,因为我的眼力已经在阅历的磨刀石上磨利了;你们时常进退维谷,要想做成一笔生意来偿清债务,你们深陷在一个十分古老的泥沼中,拉丁文的所谓aes alienum——别人的铜币中,可不是有些钱币用铜来铸的吗;就在别人的铜钱中,你们生了,死了,最后葬掉了;你们答应了明天偿清,又一个明天偿清,直到死在今天,而债务还未了结;你们求恩,乞怜,请求照顾,用了多少方法总算没有坐牢;你们撒谎,拍马,投票,把自己缩进了一个规规矩矩的硬壳里,或者吹嘘自己,摆出一副稀薄如云雾的慷慨和大度的模样,这才使你们的邻人信任你,允许你们给他们做鞋子,制帽子,或上衣,或车辆,或让你们给他们代买食品;你们在一只破箱笼里,或者在灰泥后面的一只袜子里,塞进了一把钱币,或者塞在银行的砖屋里,那里是更安全了;不管塞在哪里,塞多少,更不管那数目是如何地微少,为了谨防患病而筹钱,反而把你们自己弄得病倒了。
   有时我奇怪,何以我们如此轻率,我几乎要说,竟然实行了罪恶昭彰的、从外国带进黑奴来的奴役制度。有那么多苛虐而熟练的奴隶主,奴役了南方和北方的奴隶。一个南方的监守人是毒辣的,而一个北方的监守人更加坏,可是你们自己做起奴隶的监守人来是最最坏的。谈什么——人的神圣!看大路上的赶马人,日夜向市场赶路,在他们的内心里,有什么神圣的思想在激荡着呢?他们的最高职责是给驴马饲草饮水!和运输的赢利相比较,他们的命运算什么?他们还不是在给一位繁忙的绅士赶驴马?他们有什么神圣,有什么不朽呢?请看他们匍伏潜行,一整天里战战兢兢,毫不是神圣的,也不是不朽的,他们看到自己的行业,知道自己是属于奴隶或囚徒这种名称的人。和我们的自知之明相比较,公众这暴戾的君主也显得微弱无力。正是一个人怎么看待自己,决定了此人的命运,指向了他的归宿。要在西印度的州省中谈论心灵与想象的自我解放,可没有一个威勃尔福司来促进呢。再请想一想,这个大陆上的妇人们,编织着梳妆用的软垫,以便临死之日用,对她们自己的命运丝毫也不关心!仿佛磋跎时日还无损于永恒呢。
   人类在过着静静的绝望的生活。所谓听天由命,正是肯定的绝望。你从绝望的城市走到绝望的村庄,以水貂和麝鼠的勇敢来安慰自己。在人类的所谓游戏与消遣底下,甚至都隐藏着一种凝固的、不知又不觉的绝望。两者中都没有娱乐可言,因为工作之后才能娱乐。可是不做绝望的事,才是智慧的一种表征。
   当我们用教义问答法的方式,思考着什么是人生的宗旨,什么是生活的真正的必需品与资料时,仿佛人们还曾审慎从事地选择了这种生活的共同方式,而不要任何别的方式似的。其实他们也知道,舍此而外,别无可以挑选的方式。但清醒健康的人都知道,太阳终古常新。抛弃我们的偏见,是永远不会来不及的。无论如何古老的思想与行为,除非有确证,便不可以轻信。在今天人人附和或以为不妨默认的真理,很可能在明天变成虚无缥缈的氤氲,但还会有人认为是乌云,可以将一阵甘霖洒落到大地上来。把老头子认为办不到的事来试办一下,你往往办成功了。老人有旧的一套,新人有新的一套。古人不知添上燃料便可使火焰不灭:新人却把干柴放在水壶底下:谚语说得好:“气死老头子”,现在的人还可以绕着地球转,迅疾如飞鸟呢。老年人,虽然年纪一把,未必能把年轻的一代指导得更好,甚至他们未必够得上资格来指导;因为他们虽有不少收获,却也已大有损失。我们可以这样怀疑,即使最聪明的人,活了一世,他又能懂得多少生活的绝对价值呢。实际上,老年人是不会有什么极其重要的忠告给予年轻人的。他们的经验是这样地支离破碎,他们的生活已经是这样地惨痛的失败过了,他们必须知道大错都是自己铸成的;也许,他们还保留若干信心,这与他们的经验是不相符合的,却可惜他们已经不够年轻了。我在这星球上生活了三十来年,还没有听到过老长辈们一个字,可谓有价值的,堪称热忱的忠告的。他们什么也没告诉过我,也许他们是不能告诉我什么中肯的意见了。这里就是生命,一个试验,它的极大部分我都没有体验过;老年人体验过了,但却于我无用。如果我得到了我认为有用的任何经验,我一定会这样想的,这个经验嘛,我的老师长们可是提都没有提起过的呢。
   有一个农夫对我说:“光吃蔬菜是活不了的,蔬菜不能供给你骨骼所需要的养料;”这样他每天虔诚地分出了他的一部分时间,来获得那种可以供给他骨骼所需的养料;他一边说话,一边跟在耕牛后面走,让这条正是用蔬菜供养了它的骨骼的耕牛拖动着他和他的木犁不顾一切障碍地前进。某些事物,在某些场合,例如在最无办法的病人中间,确是生活的必需资料,却在另一些场合,只变成了奢侈品,再换了别样的场合,又可能是闻所未闻的东西。
   有人以为人生的全部,无论在高峰之巅或低陷之谷,都已给先驱者走遍,一切都已被注意到了。依熙爱芙琳的话:“智慧的所罗门曾下令制定树木中间应有的距离;罗马地方官也曾规定,你可以多少次到邻家的地上去拣拾那落下来的橡实而不算你乱闯的,并曾规定多少份橡实属于邻人。”希波克拉底甚至传下了剪指甲的方法,剪得不要太短或太长,要齐手指头。无疑问的,认为把生命的变易和欢乐都消蚀殆尽的那种烦谦和忧闷,是跟亚当同样地古老的。但人的力量还从未被衡量出来呢;我们不能根据他已经完成的事来判断他的力量,人做得少极了。不论你以前如何失败过,“别感伤,我的孩子,谁能指定你去做你未曾做完的事呢?”
   我们可以用一千种简单的方法来测定我们的生命;举例以明之,这是同一个太阳,它使我种的豆子成熟,同时竟然照耀了像我们的地球之类的整个太阳系。如果我记住了这一点,那就能预防若干的错误。可是我锄草时并没有这样去想。星星是何等神奇的三角形的尖顶!字宙各处,有多少远远隔开的不同的物种在同时思考着同一事实啊!正如我们的各种体制一样,大自然和人生也是变化多端的。谁能预知别人的生命有着什么远景?难道还有比一瞬之间通过彼此的眼睛来观察更伟大的奇迹吗?我们本应该在一小时之内就经历了这人世的所有时代;是的,甚至经历了所有时代中所有的世界。历史、诗歌、神话!——我不知道读别人的经验还有什么能像读这些这样地惊人而又详尽的。
   凡我的邻人说是好的,有一大部分在我灵魂中却认为是坏的,至于我,如果要有所仟悔,我悔恨的反而是我的善良品行。是什么魔鬼攫住了我,使我品行这样善良的呢?老年人啊,你说了那些最聪明的话,你已经活了七十年了,而且活得很光荣,我却听到一个不可抗拒的声音,要求我不听你的话。新的世代抛弃前一代的业绩,好像它们是些搁浅的船。
   我想,我们可以泰然相信,比我们实际上相信的,更加多的事物。我们对自己的关怀能放弃多少,便可以忠实地给别人多少的关怀。大自然既能适应我们的长处,也能适应我们的弱点。有些人无穷无尽的忧患焦虑,成了一种几乎医治不好的疾病。我们又生就的爱夸耀我们所做工作的重要性;然而却有多少工作我们没有做!要是我们病倒了,怎么办呢?我们多么谨慎!决心不依照信仰而生活,我们尽可能避免它,从早到晚警戒着,到夜晚违心地析祷着,然后把自己交托给未定的运数。我们生活得这样周到和认真,崇奉自己的生活,而否定变革的可能。我们说,只能这样子生活呵;可是从圆心可以画出多少条半径来,而生活方式就有这样的多。一切变革,都是值得思考的奇迹,每一刹那发生的事都可以是奇迹。孔夫予曾说:“知之为知之,不知为不知,是知也。”当一个人把他想象的事实提炼为他的理论之时,我预见到,一切人最后都要在这样的基础上建筑起他们的生活来。
   让我们思考一下,我前面所说的大多数人的忧虑和烦恼又是些什么,其中有多少是必须忧虑的,至少是值得小心对待的呢?虽然生活在外表的文明中,我们若能过一过原始性的、新开辟的垦区生活还是有益处的,即使仅仅为了明白生活必需品大致是些什么,及如何才能得到这些必需品,甚至翻一翻商店里的古老的流水账,看看商店里经常出售些什么,又存积哪些货物,就是看看最杂的杂货究竟是一些什么也好。时代虽在演进,对人类生存的基本原则却还没有发生多少影响:好比我们的骨骼,跟我们的祖先的骨骼,大约是区别不出来的。
   所谓生活必需品,在我的意思中,是指一切人用了自己的精力收获得来的那种物品:或是它开始就显得很重要,或是由于长久的习惯,因此对于人生具有了这样的重要性,即使有人尝试着不要它,其人数也是很少的,他们或者是由于野蛮,或是出于穷困,或者只是为了一种哲学的缘故,才这么做的。对于许多人,具有这样的意义的生活必需品只有一种,即食物。原野上的牛只需要几英寸长的可咀嚼的青草和一些冷水;除非加上了它们要寻求的森林或山荫的遮蔽。野兽的生存都只需要食物和荫蔽之处。但人类,在天时中,其生活之必需品可分为:食物、住宅、衣服和燃料;除非获有这些,我们是无法自由地面对真正的人生问题的,更无法展望成就了。人不仅发明了屋子,还发明了衣服,煮熟了食物;可能是偶然发现了火焰的热度,后来利用了它,起先它还是奢侈品哩,而到目前,烤火取暖也是必需品了。我们看到猫狗也同样地获得了这个第二天性。住得合适,穿得合适,就能合理地保持体内的热度,若住得和穿得太热的话,或烤火烤得太热时,外边的热度高于体内的热度,岂不是说在烘烤人肉了吗?自然科学家达尔文说起火地岛的居民,当他自己一伙人穿着衣服还烤火,尚且不觉得热,那时裸体的野蛮人站得很远,却使人看到了大为吃惊,他们“被火焰烘烤得竟然汗流浃背了”。同样,据说新荷兰人赤裸身体而泰然自若地跑来跑去,欧洲人穿了衣服还颤抖呢。这些野蛮人的坚强和文明人的睿智难道不能够相提并论吗?按照李比希的说法,人体是一只炉子,食物是保持肺部内燃的燃料。冷天我们吃得多,热天少。动物的体温是缓慢内燃的结果,而疾病和死亡则是在内燃得太旺盛的时候发生的;或者因为燃料没有了,或者因为通风装置出了毛病,火焰便会熄灭。自然,我们不能把生命的体温与火焰混为一谈,我们的譬喻就到此为止。所以,从上面的陈述来看,动物的生命这一个词语可以跟动物的体温作为同义语用:食物,被作为内燃的燃料,——煮熟食物的也是燃料,煮熟的食物自外吞入体内,也是为增加我们体内热量的,——此外,住所和衣服,也是为了保持这样地产生和吸收的热量的。
   所以,对人体而言,最大的必需品是取暖,保持我们的养身的热量。我们是何等地辛苦,不但为了食物、衣着、住所,还为了我们的床铺——那些夜晚的衣服而辛苦着,从飞鸟巢里和飞鸟的胸脯上,我们掠夺羽毛,做成住所中的住所,就像鼹鼠住在地窟尽头草叶的床中一样!可怜人常常叫苦,说这是一个冰冷的世界;身体上的病同社会上的病一样,我们大都归罪于寒冷。在若干地区,夏天给人以乐园似的生活。在那里除了煮饭的燃料之外,别的燃料都不需要;太阳是他的火焰,太阳的光线煮熟了果实;大体说来,食物的种类既多,而且又容易到手,衣服和住宅是完全用不到的,或者说有一半是用不到的。在目前时代,在我们国内,根据我自己的经验,我觉得只要有少数工具就足够生活了,一把刀,一柄斧头,一把铲子,一辆手推车,如此而已,对于勤学的人,还要灯火和文具,再加上儿本书,这些已是次要的必需品,只要少数费用就能购得。然而有些人就太不聪明,跑到另一个半球上,跑到蛮荒的、不卫生的区域里,做了十年二十年生意,为了使他们活着,——就是说,为了使他们能舒适而温暖——,最后回到新英格兰来,还是死了。奢侈的人不单舒适了温暖了,而且热得不自然;我已经在前面说过,他们是被烘烤的,自然是很时髦地被烘烤的。
   大部分的奢侈品,大部分的所谓生活的舒适,非但没有必要,而且对人类进步大有妨碍。所以关于奢侈与舒适,最明智的人生活得甚至比穷人更加简单和朴素。中国、印度、波斯和希腊的古哲学家都是一个类型的人物,外表生活再穷没有,而内心生活再富不过。我们都不够理解他们。然而可惊的一点是,我们居然对于他们知道得不少呢。近代那些改革家,各民族的救星,也都如此。唯有站在我们所谓的甘贫乐苦这有利地位上,才能成为大公无私的聪明的观察者。无论在农业,商业,文学或艺术中,奢侈生活产生的果实都是奢侈的。近来是哲学教授满天飞,哲学家一个没有。然而教授是可羡的,因为教授的生活是可羡的。但是,要做一个哲学家的活,不但要有精美的思想,不但要建立起一个学派来,而且要这样地爱智慧,从而按照了智慧的指示,过着一种简单、独立、大度、信任的生活。解决生命的一些问题,不但要在理论上,而且要在实践中。大学问家和思想家的成功,通常不是帝王式的,也不是英豪式的,反而是朝臣式的成功。他们应付生活,往往求其与习俗相符合,像他们的父辈一般,所以一点不能成为更好的人类的始祖。可是,为什么人类总在退化?是什么使得那些家族没落的?使国家衰亡的糜侈是什么性质的呢?在我们的生活中,我们能否确定自己并未这样?哲学家甚至在生活的外形上也是处在时代前列的。他不像他同时代人那样地吃喝、居住、穿着、取暖。一个人既是哲学家,怎会没有比别人更好的养身的保持体温的方法呢?
   人已在我所描写的几种方式下暖和了,其次他要干什么呢?当然不会是同等样的更多的温暖。他不会要求更多更富足的食物,更大更光耀的房屋,更丰富更精美的衣服,更多更持久更灼热的火炉等等了。他在得到了这些生命所必需的事物之后,就不会要过剩品而要有另一些东西;那就是说免于卑微工作的假期开始了,现在他要向生命迈进了。泥土看来是适宜于种子的,因为泥土使它的胚根向下延伸,然后它可以富有自信地使茎向上茁长。为什么人在泥土里扎了根之后,不能援例向天空伸展呢?——因为那些更高贵的植物的价值是由远离地面的、最后在空气和日光中结成的果实来评定的,而不是像对待那低卑蔬菜的那样。蔬菜就算是两年生的植物,那也只是被培植到生好根以后,而且常被摘去顶枝,使得许多人在开花的季节都认不得它们。


  The grand necessity, then, for our bodies, is to keep warm, to keep the vital heat in us. What pains we accordingly take, not only with our Food, and Clothing, and Shelter, but with our beds, which are our night-clothes, robbing the nests and breasts of birds to prepare this shelter within a shelter, as the mole has its bed of grass and leaves at the end of its burrow! The poor man is wont to complain that this is a cold world; and to cold, no less physical than social, we refer directly a great part of our ails. The summer, in some climates, makes possible to man a sort of Elysian life. Fuel, except to cook his Food, is then unnecessary; the sun is his fire, and many of the fruits are sufficiently cooked by its rays; while Food generally is more various, and more easily obtained, and Clothing and Shelter are wholly or half unnecessary. At the present day, and in this country, as I find by my own experience, a few implements, a knife, an axe, a spade, a wheelbarrow, etc., and for the studious, lamplight, stationery, and access to a few books, rank next to necessaries, and can all be obtained at a trifling cost. Yet some, not wise, go to the other side of the globe, to barbarous and unhealthy regions, and devote themselves to trade for ten or twenty years, in order that they may live -- that is, keep comfortably warm -- and die in New England at last. The luxuriously rich are not simply kept comfortably warm, but unnaturally hot; as I implied before, they are cooked, of course a la mode.
   Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. With respect to luxuries and comforts, the wisest have ever lived a more simple and meagre life than the poor. The ancient philosophers, Chinese, Hindoo, Persian, and Greek, were a class than which none has been poorer in outward riches, none so rich in inward. We know not much about them. It is remarkable that we know so much of them as we do. The same is true of the more modern reformers and benefactors of their race. None can be an impartial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty. Of a life of luxury the fruit is luxury, whether in agriculture, or commerce, or literature, or art. There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not philosophers. Yet it is admirable to profess because it was once admirable to live. To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically. The success of great scholars and thinkers is commonly a courtier-like success, not kingly, not manly. They make shift to live merely by conformity, practically as their fathers did, and are in no sense the progenitors of a noble race of men. But why do men degenerate ever? What makes families run out? What is the nature of the luxury which enervates and destroys nations? Are we sure that there is none of it in our own lives? The philosopher is in advance of his age even in the outward form of his life. He is not fed, sheltered, clothed, warmed, like his contemporaries. How can a man be a philosopher and not maintain his vital heat by better methods than other men?
   When a man is warmed by the several modes which I have described, what does he want next? Surely not more warmth of the same kind, as more and richer food, larger and more splendid houses, finer and more abundant clothing, more numerous, incessant, and hotter fires, and the like. When he has obtained those things which are necessary to life, there is another alternative than to obtain the superfluities; and that is, to adventure on life now, his vacation from humbler toil having commenced. The soil, it appears, is suited to the seed, for it has sent its radicle downward, and it may now send its shoot upward also with confidence. Why has man rooted himself thus firmly in the earth, but that he may rise in the same proportion into the heavens above? -- for the nobler plants are valued for the fruit they bear at last in the air and light, far from the ground, and are not treated like the humbler esculents, which, though they may be biennials, are cultivated only till they have perfected their root, and often cut down at top for this purpose, so that most would not know them in their flowering season.
   I do not mean to prescribe rules to strong and valiant natures, who will mind their own affairs whether in heaven or hell, and perchance build more magnificently and spend more lavishly than the richest, without ever impoverishing themselves, not knowing how they live -- if, indeed, there are any such, as has been dreamed; nor to those who find their encouragement and inspiration in precisely the present condition of things, and cherish it with the fondness and enthusiasm of lovers -- and, to some extent, I reckon myself in this number; I do not speak to those who are well employed, in whatever circumstances, and they know whether they are well employed or not; -- but mainly to the mass of men who are discontented, and idly complaining of the hardness of their lot or of the times, when they might improve them. There are some who complain most energetically and inconsolably of any, because they are, as they say, doing their duty. I also have in my mind that seemingly wealthy, but most terribly impoverished class of all, who have accumulated dross, but know not how to use it, or get rid of it, and thus have forged their own golden or silver fetters.
   If I should attempt to tell how I have desired to spend my life in years past, it would probably surprise those of my readers who are somewhat acquainted with its actual history; it would certainly astonish those who know nothing about it. I will only hint at some of the enterprises which I have cherished.
   In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line. You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more secrets in my trade than in most men's, and yet not voluntarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature. I would gladly tell all that I know about it, and never paint "No Admittance" on my gate.
   I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtle dove, and am still on their trail. Many are the travellers I have spoken concerning them, describing their tracks and what calls they answered to. I have met one or two who had heard the hound, and the tramp of the horse, and even seen the dove disappear behind a cloud, and they seemed as anxious to recover them as if they had lost them themselves.
   To anticipate, not the sunrise and the dawn merely, but, if possible, Nature herself! How many mornings, summer and winter, before yet any neighbor was stirring about his business, have I been about mine! No doubt, many of my townsmen have met me returning from this enterprise, farmers starting for Boston in the twilight, or woodchoppers going to their work. It is true, I never assisted the sun materially in his rising, but, doubt not, it was of the last importance only to be present at it.
   So many autumn, ay, and winter days, spent outside the town, trying to hear what was in the wind, to hear and carry it express! I well-nigh sunk all my capital in it, and lost my own breath into the bargain, running in the face of it. If it had concerned either of the political parties, depend upon it, it would have appeared in the Gazette with the earliest intelligence. At other times watching from the observatory of some cliff or tree, to telegraph any new arrival; or waiting at evening on the hill-tops for the sky to fall, that I might catch something, though I never caught much, and that, manna-wise, would dissolve again in the sun.
   For a long time I was reporter to a journal, of no very wide circulation, whose editor has never yet seen fit to print the bulk of my contributions, and, as is too common with writers, I got only my labor for my pains. However, in this case my pains were their own reward.
   For many years I was self-appointed inspector of snow-storms and rain-storms, and did my duty faithfully; surveyor, if not of highways, then of forest paths and all across-lot routes, keeping them open, and ravines bridged and passable at all seasons, where the public heel had testified to their utility.
   I have looked after the wild stock of the town, which give a faithful herdsman a good deal of trouble by leaping fences; and I have had an eye to the unfrequented nooks and corners of the farm; though I did not always know whether Jonas or Solomon worked in a particular field to-day; that was none of my business. I have watered the red huckleberry, the sand cherry and the nettle-tree, the red pine and the black ash, the white grape and the yellow violet, which might have withered else in dry seasons.
   In short, I went on thus for a long time (I may say it without boasting), faithfully minding my business, till it became more and more evident that my townsmen would not after all admit me into the list of town officers, nor make my place a sinecure with a moderate allowance. My accounts, which I can swear to have kept faithfully, I have, indeed, never got audited, still less accepted, still less paid and settled. However, I have not set my heart on that.
   Not long since, a strolling Indian went to sell baskets at the house of a well-known lawyer in my neighborhood. "Do you wish to buy any baskets?" he asked. "No, we do not want any," was the reply. "What!" exclaimed the Indian as he went out the gate, "do you mean to starve us?" Having seen his industrious white neighbors so well off -- that the lawyer had only to weave arguments, and, by some magic, wealth and standing followed -- he had said to himself: I will go into business; I will weave baskets; it is a thing which I can do. Thinking that when he had made the baskets he would have done his part, and then it would be the white man's to buy them. He had not discovered that it was necessary for him to make it worth the other's while to buy them, or at least make him think that it was so, or to make something else which it would be worth his while to buy. I too had woven a kind of basket of a delicate texture, but I had not made it worth any one's while to buy them. Yet not the less, in my case, did I think it worth my while to weave them, and instead of studying how to make it worth men's while to buy my baskets, I studied rather how to avoid the necessity of selling them. The life which men praise and regard as successful is but one kind. Why should we exaggerate any one kind at the expense of the others?
   Finding that my fellow-citizens were not likely to offer me any room in the court house, or any curacy or living anywhere else, but I must shift for myself, I turned my face more exclusively than ever to the woods, where I was better known. I determined to go into business at once, and not wait to acquire the usual capital, using such slender means as I had already got. My purpose in going to Walden Pond was not to live cheaply nor to live dearly there, but to transact some private business with the fewest obstacles; to be hindered from accomplishing which for want of a little common sense, a little enterprise and business talent, appeared not so sad as foolish.
   I have always endeavored to acquire strict business habits; they are indispensable to every man. If your trade is with the Celestial Empire, then some small counting house on the coast, in some Salem harbor, will be fixture enough. You will export such articles as the country affords, purely native products, much ice and pine timber and a little granite, always in native bottoms. These will be good ventures. To oversee all the details yourself in person; to be at once pilot and captain, and owner and underwriter; to buy and sell and keep the accounts; to read every letter received, and write or read every letter sent; to superintend the discharge of imports night and day; to be upon many parts of the coast almost at the same time -- often the richest freight will be discharged upon a Jersey shore; -- to be your own telegraph, unweariedly sweeping the horizon, speaking all passing vessels bound coastwise; to keep up a steady despatch of commodities, for the supply of such a distant and exorbitant market; to keep yourself informed of the state of the markets, prospects of war and peace everywhere, and anticipate the tendencies of trade and civilization -- taking advantage of the results of all exploring expeditions, using new passages and all improvements in navigation; -- charts to be studied, the position of reefs and new lights and buoys to be ascertained, and ever, and ever, the logarithmic tables to be corrected, for by the error of some calculator the vessel often splits upon a rock that should have reached a friendly pier -- there is the untold fate of La Prouse; -- universal science to be kept pace with, studying the lives of all great discoverers and navigators, great adventurers and merchants, from Hanno and the Phoenicians down to our day; in fine, account of stock to be taken from time to time, to know how you stand. It is a labor to task the faculties of a man -- such problems of profit and loss, of interest, of tare and tret, and gauging of all kinds in it, as demand a universal knowledge.
   I have thought that Walden Pond would be a good place for business, not solely on account of the railroad and the ice trade; it offers advantages which it may not be good policy to divulge; it is a good port and a good foundation. No Neva marshes to be filled; though you must everywhere build on piles of your own driving. It is said that a flood-tide, with a westerly wind, and ice in the Neva, would sweep St. Petersburg from the face of the earth.
   As this business was to be entered into without the usual capital, it may not be easy to conjecture where those means, that will still be indispensable to every such undertaking, were to be obtained. As for Clothing, to come at once to the practical part of the question, perhaps we are led oftener by the love of novelty and a regard for the opinions of men, in procuring it, than by a true utility. Let him who has work to do recollect that the object of clothing is, first, to retain the vital heat, and secondly, in this state of society, to cover nakedness, and he may judge how much of any necessary or important work may be accomplished without adding to his wardrobe. Kings and queens who wear a suit but once, though made by some tailor or dressmaker to their majesties, cannot know the comfort of wearing a suit that fits. They are no better than wooden horses to hang the clean clothes on. Every day our garments become more assimilated to ourselves, receiving the impress of the wearer's character, until we hesitate to lay them aside without such delay and medical appliances and some such solemnity even as our bodies. No man ever stood the lower in my estimation for having a patch in his clothes; yet I am sure that there is greater anxiety, commonly, to have fashionable, or at least clean and unpatched clothes, than to have a sound conscience. But even if the rent is not mended, perhaps the worst vice betrayed is improvidence. I sometimes try my acquaintances by such tests as this -- Who could wear a patch, or two extra seams only, over the knee? Most behave as if they believed that their prospects for life would be ruined if they should do it. It would be easier for them to hobble to town with a broken leg than with a broken pantaloon. Often if an accident happens to a gentleman's legs, they can be mended; but if a similar accident happens to the legs of his pantaloons, there is no help for it; for he considers, not what is truly respectable, but what is respected. We know but few men, a great many coats and breeches. Dress a scarecrow in your last shift, you standing shiftless by, who would not soonest salute the scarecrow? Passing a cornfield the other day, close by a hat and coat on a stake, I recognized the owner of the farm. He was only a little more weather-beaten than when I saw him last. I have heard of a dog that barked at every stranger who approached his master's premises with clothes on, but was easily quieted by a naked thief. It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes. Could you, in such a case, tell surely of any company of civilized men which belonged to the most respected class? When Madam Pfeiffer, in her adventurous travels round the world, from east to west, had got so near home as Asiatic Russia, she says that she felt the necessity of wearing other than a travelling dress, when she went to meet the authorities, for she "was now in a civilized country, where ... people are judged of by their clothes." Even in our democratic New England towns the accidental possession of wealth, and its manifestation in dress and equipage alone, obtain for the possessor almost universal respect. But they yield such respect, numerous as they are, are so far heathen, and need to have a missionary sent to them. Beside, clothes introduced sewing, a kind of work which you may call endless; a woman's dress, at least, is never done.
   A man who has at length found something to do will not need to get a new suit to do it in; for him the old will do, that has lain dusty in the garret for an indeterminate period. Old shoes will serve a hero longer than they have served his valet -- if a hero ever has a valet -- bare feet are older than shoes, and he can make them do. Only they who go to soires and legislative balls must have new coats, coats to change as often as the man changes in them. But if my jacket and trousers, my hat and shoes, are fit to worship God in, they will do; will they not? Who ever saw his old clothes -- his old coat, actually worn out, resolved into its primitive elements, so that it was not a deed of charity to bestow it on some poor boy, by him perchance to be bestowed on some poorer still, or shall we say richer, who could do with less? I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old clothes. All men want, not something to do with, but something to do, or rather something to be. Perhaps we should never procure a new suit, however ragged or dirty the old, until we have so conducted, so enterprised or sailed in some way, that we feel like new men in the old, and that to retain it would be like keeping new wine in old bottles. Our moulting season, like that of the fowls, must be a crisis in our lives. The loon retires to solitary ponds to spend it. Thus also the snake casts its slough, and the caterpillar its wormy coat, by an internal industry and expansion; for clothes are but our outmost cuticle and mortal coil. Otherwise we shall be found sailing under false colors, and be inevitably cashiered at last by our own opinion, as well as that of mankind.
首页>> 文学论坛>>散文>> 散文>> 亨利·戴维·梭罗 Henry David Thoreau   美国 United States   美国内战时期   (1817年7月12日1862年5月6日)