There is in love, in friendship or in the curiosity that drives us towards a fellow-creature a period of ascendency when nothing can quench1 our enthusiasm. The fire that consumes us must burn itself out; until then, all that we see, all that we discover feeds it and increases it.
We are aware of a blemish2, but we do not see it. We know the weakness that to-morrow perhaps will blight3 our joy, but we do not feel it. We hear the word that ought to deal our hopes a mortal blow; and it does not even touch them!... And our reason, which knows, sees, hears and foresees, remains4 dumb, as though it delighted in these games which bring into play our heart and our capacity for feeling. Besides, to us women this exercise of the emotions is something so delightful5 and so salutary that our will has neither the power nor the inclination6 to check it either in its soberest or its most extravagant7 manifestations8. The influence of the
will would always be commonplace and sordid9 by the side of that generous force which is created by each impulse of the heart or mind.
Upon every person or every idea that arouses our enthusiasm we have just so much to bestow10, a definite sum of energy to expend11, which seems, like that of our body, to have its own time and season. I have known Rose for hardly three months; her picture is still vernal in my heart; nothing can prevent its colours from being radiant with freshness, radiant with vigour12, radiant with sunshine. I shall therefore go away without regret. I see the childishness of all the experiments to which I am subjecting the girl so as to know her a little better. My interest throws such a light upon her that she cannot, do what she will, shrink back into the shade.
She is to me the incarnation of one of my most cherished ideas. Until I know all, I shall suspend my judgment13 and my intentions will not change. I believe that every seed in the rich soil of a noble heart has to fulfil its tender, gracious work of love and kindness.
I cannot, therefore, lay upon Rose the burden of my disappointment last night; and my affection suggests a thousand good reasons for absolving14 her. Is
this wrong? And are we to consider, with the sapient15 ones of the earth, that our vision is never clear until the day when we no longer have the strength to love, believe and admire? I do not think so. Setting aside the careful judgment which we exercise in the case of our companion for life, it is certain that our opinions on the others, on our chance acquaintances, are but an illusion and owe far more to our souls than to theirs. In our brief and crowded lives, we have barely time to catch a note of beauty here, to perceive a sign of truth there. If, therefore, we have to pass days and years without understanding everything and loving everything, if we have to remain under a misapprehension, why not choose that which is on the side of love and gladdens our hearts?
We should take care of the images that adorn17 our soul. Our women's minds would possess more graciousness if we bestowed18 upon them a little of the attention which we lavish19 on our bodies.
My beautiful Rose is kind and loving; I will deck her with my hopes as long as I can. When enthusiasm is shared, it is easy to keep it up. It weighs lightly in spite of its infinite preciousness. If I ever find it a strain, the reason will be that Rose did not really bear her share of it. It will become a burden
and I shall relinquish20 it. All that she will have of me will be the careless charity bestowed upon the poor.
2
"Paris, ... 19—
"If you knew, Rose, how I miss the lovely autumn landscapes! The weather was so bright on the day of my departure that, to enjoy it to the full, I bicycled to the railway-town. After leaving the village, I took the road through the wood and it was delightful to skim along through the dead leaves, the softly-streaming tears of autumn. Sometimes, when a gust21 of wind blew, I went faster; and little yellow waves seemed to rise and fall and chase one another all around me. Some of the trees, not yet bare, but only thinned, traced an exquisite22 russet lacework against the blue sky; and the birds warbled, cooed and whistled as in spring. I saw the noisy, crowded streets of Paris waiting for me at the end of my day; and this gave a flavour of sadness to the calm of the high roads, the pureness of the air, the dear beauty of the lanes....
"It was quite early in the morning and the fields
were still bathed in a dewy radiance. I sat down for a little while on a roadside bank; an immense plain began at the level of my face and ended by rising slowly towards the sky. It was a very young field of corn, which the splendour of the day turned into pearly down. I could have looked at it for ever, at one moment letting the full glory of it burst on my dazzled eyes and then gradually lowering my lids down to the tiny threads that trembled and glittered in my breath. Then my mouth formed itself into a kiss; and I amused myself by slowly and lovingly making the cool pearls of the morning die on my warm lips...."
3
"Paris, ... 19—
"I see you, my Rose, laying supper in the wretched kitchen, while the farm-hands gather round the hearth23. I like to picture you going cautiously through the old woman's room at night, so as to write to me by the rays of the moon, without disturbing the household with an unwonted light. You come and sit on the ledge24 of the open window, to receive the full benefit of the moonbeams, and then
you write on your knee those trembling lines which convey your emotion to me.
"I see you in the wonderful setting of the silver-flooded orchard25. The golden silk of your long tresses embroiders26 your white night-dress. Your eyes are filled with peace; you are beautiful like that; and there is nothing so sweet as an orchard in the moonlight. The apple-trees seem to lay their even shadows softly upon the pallor of the grass; and their ordered quiet spreads a serene27 and simple joy over nature's sleep....
"Rose, at the moving period that brought us together, how I would that your sweet composure had been sometimes a little ruffled28! It would have appeared to me of a finer quality had I found it more variable. A woman's reason should be less rigid29; and I should loathe30 mine if it were not a leaven31 of indulgence and forgiveness in my life....
"Oh, Rose, Rose, tell me that the coldness of your soul springs from its wonderful purity! Tell me that your heart is so deep that the sound of the joys which fall into it cannot be heard outside! Tell me that it is the storm of your life that has crushed the flowers of your sensibility for the time....
"I well know that our interest cannot always be
active, that it must be suppressed; I know that indifference32 is essential to the happy equilibrium33 of our faculties34 and that, beside the exaltation of our soul, it is the untroubled lake fertilising and refreshing35 the earth. And you will find, Rose, how necessary it is to be on our guard against it in our judgments36 and how it can take possession of some natures and slowly destroy them under a hateful appearance of wisdom! I would rather discover ugly and active defects in you than that beautiful impassiveness. Besides, as I have told you many a time, the excellence37 that seems to me ideal has its weaknesses. It is rather a way of perfection for our poor humanity, a way that is all the better because it is adapted for our feeble and wavering steps!...
"Once, at harvest-time, I met you in the little road near the church. It was the end of the day; and you were coming back from the fields. You were standing16 high on a swaying mountain of hay, you were driving a great farm-horse, which disappeared under its load. Your tall figure stood out against the sky ablaze38 with the last rays of the sun; and I still see your look of absolute unconcern. You wore a long blue apron39 that came all round you and a bodice of the same colour. In that blue faded by the
sun, with your hair a pale cloud in the gold of the sunset, you looked like an archangel taken from some Italian fresco40.
"As you passed me, you timidly returned my smile; and I followed you for a long time with my eyes. Do you still remember the trouble you had in passing under the dark vault41 of the old oaks? Every now and again, a branch, longer and lower than the others, threatened your face: you caught it with a quick movement and lifted it over your head. At one time, there were so many of those branches and they were so heavy that you were obliged to lie back on the hay, holding both arms over your face to save it from being struck. Then, when the lumbering42 wagon43 stopped in front of the farm, my archangel stepped down humbly44 into the mud, took the horse by the bridle45 and disappeared from sight....
"The reason why this memory now comes back to me is that I find in it some affinity46 with what I would ask of your reason: those simple movements by which you will be able to thrust aside the bad habits that disfigure you! May your reason be the beautiful archangel to guide and sway your humble47 life, but may it sometimes know how to descend48 and stoop
in obedience49 to the necessities of chance. Even as, on the day when I saw you, you could not alter the road which you had to follow, so you cannot alter your real nature; but you must 'know the way,' you must guide and control."
4
"Paris,... 19—
"I am longing50 to have you here so that I may watch carefully over the slightest details of your life and put your temperament51 incessantly52 to the test. They say that enthusiasm cannot be acquired. But how can they tell that it is not merely sleeping, unless they try to awaken54 it? Those around us have sometimes, quite unconsciously, an unhappy way of subduing55 and oppressing us.
"Even the most emotional have often to struggle lest their souls should shrink in the presence of certain people, like the flowers whose petals56 exposed to the light timidly hide their hearts as soon as day declines. You, whom a placid57 humour reserves for gentle emotions, must try not to let that very beautiful nature exceed its rights, or cast an unnecessary shadow over your feelings, or ever check your finest
bursts of admiration58 with doubt and misgiving59. Circumstances have failed to form your taste; and at first you will pass marvels60 by and prefer to marvel61 at some hideous62 thing. Never mind! I like to think that, after all, the best part of a noble work is the enthusiasm which it arouses and that the greatest dignity of art lies in the flame which it kindles63.
"Time was when I wept in front of things that now leave me unmoved; but, in captivating my childish heart, did they not accomplish their task even as those do now which quicken the beating of my woman's heart?...
"Learn to appreciate life and to look upon all that does not enhance it as vain and wearisome. As there is nothing in this world which has not its relation to life, in loving it, my Roseline, you will understand everything and accept everything.
"I want your eyes, when presenting to your mind whatever is best in a great work, to learn the luxury of lingering on it; I want your ears to perceive the wonderful, voluptuous64 charm of sounds, your hands to rejoice in things soft to the touch; I want you to learn how to breathe with delight and how to eat with pleasure. Don't smile. None of all this is childish; it is made up of tiny joyous65 movements
which the simplest existence can command when it knows how to recognise them. And yet ... and yet I feel a selfish wish to leave you still in your prison, so that your desire to escape from it may keep on growing! I love that desire, I love your actual distress66, I love the wretchedness of your past, the wretchedness of your present, I love you to see difficulties in the way of your deliverance....
"Oh, if those obstacles could give you, as they do me, that sort of intoxication67 for which I cherish them! When at last I see the goal beyond them, my heart leaps for joy. But hardly is the goal attained68 when I rejoice in it only because it brings me to another, higher and more distant; and my imagination resumes its course, never looking back except to measure the road already traversed.... In this way, never satisfied and yet happy in the mere53 fact that I am advancing and in the knowledge that no more can be asked of a poor human will, I have the feeling that my life never stops."
5
"Paris,... 19—
"Dearest, it is evening; it is cold and wet out of doors; but peace and gaiety shed their radiance
in the great drawing-room which you will soon know, white and bare as a convent-parlour, living and bright as joy itself. Chance gave me to-day a long day of solitude69, like those at Sainte-Colombe. And yet the hours passed before me and I could not make them fruitful. When such favours come to me in the midst of excitement, I am too glad of them to be able to profit by them; I can but feel them; and they control me without leaving me time to control them in my turn. I listen to my life, I contemplate70 it. It has too many opposing voices, too many absolutely different shapes; my consciousness is lost in it as a precious stone is swallowed up by the sea. I blush at such chaos71. My soul appears to me only fit to compare with one of those wretched table-cloths which country dressmakers patch together, at the end of the year, out of the thousand scraps72 of the thousand different materials which they have cut during the season. But is not this the natural result of the diversity of our feminine souls?
"Antagonistic73 elements have long been at war in me; and the violence of their blows has sometimes torn my life asunder74. I no longer have cause to complain of it now, because time and love have helped me to reconcile them. Our powers are injurious
to us so long as we do not know how to use them. I have suffered, I still suffer from my creeping knowledge. I would like to increase the pace of yours. Is it impossible?
"And so I dreamed all day and, of course, I dreamed of you, the Rose whom I am always picturing. I imagined that we had arranged to see each other this evening. You walked into the drawing-room, drenched75 with the rain, pink-cheeked with the cold. You looked very pretty, in a frock that suited your face and your figure. You knew how to hold yourself! You knew how to walk! Your movements were graceful76! After talking for a little while by the fire, we both sat down at the table, under the lamp-light, and there began our usual work. What work it was I cannot tell; but it will be easy for us to choose: we have everything to learn; and I feel that both our minds must follow the same path for some time to come. By placing the same objects before them, we shall succeed in discovering what you really feel and what you really wish. That is the only way of delivering your mind from my involuntary dominion77 and of distinguishing your image from mine. I have no other ideal than to feel myself actually moving, even though the movement
be an inconsistent one. How could I invite you to a similarity which is nothing but a perpetual dissimilarity?
"You must cease to be an echo. I shall map out no course for you; and we do not know what will become of you. Let us first walk at random78. The goal is not always visible; but very often the road travelled tells us which road to take next. It matters little what work we do, provided that it gives a sort of tone to our meetings and that it regulates our hours. The freaks of chance and the youthfulness of our minds will always furnish colour and fancy in plenty....
"Understand me, Roseline: it is not a friend that I am seeking, not one of those uncertain, light-hearted, capricious relations which encumber79 life without adding to it. I am dreaming like a child, of a woman who should realise the greatest possible amount of beauty in her mind and person and who should add her strength to mine in the service of the same ideals. Rose, are you that woman? Will you help me to deliver other women still who are oppressed by circumstances or people, to deliver those who are shackled80 by prejudice or fear, to deliver the beauty that is unable to show itself and the will that
dares not act? To deliver! What a magic word! Rose, does it ring in your heart as it rings in mine?...
"But, as you see, my dreams are carrying me too far; and I blush at my audacity81. When I look at you and judge myself, it often seems to me that what I have done for you is only a form of vanity, that all my generous aspirations82 are but vanity!... Is it true?
"And, if it were! Is it not still greater and more foolish vanity to require that all our actions should spring from pure and sublime83 motives84? If, in contributing to your development, I am conscious that I am assisting my own, will yours be any the less complete for that? If I no longer know which is dearer, you, who represent my dreams, or my dreams, which have become embodied85 in yourself, will you on that account be less fondly and less nobly loved?
"And, if it be true that vanity there is, is the vanity vain that sheds happiness and joy?"
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收听单词发音
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1
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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expend
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| vt.花费，消费，消耗 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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14
absolving
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| 宣告…无罪，赦免…的罪行，宽恕…的罪行( absolve的现在分词 )； 不受责难，免除责任 [义务] ,开脱（罪责） | |
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sapient
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| adj.有见识的，有智慧的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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embroiders
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的第三人称单数 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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fresco
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| n.壁画；vt.作壁画于 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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affinity
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| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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48
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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subduing
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| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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kindles
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的第三人称单数 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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69
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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72
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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antagonistic
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| adj.敌对的 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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encumber
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| v.阻碍行动，妨碍，堆满 | |
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shackled
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| 给（某人）带上手铐或脚镣( shackle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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83
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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