What's that you say? "Astonished to find I have a good word of any sort to put in for England!" Why, dear me, how irrational5 you are! I just love England. Can any man with eyes in his head and a soul for beauty do otherwise? England and Italy—there you have the two great glories of Europe. Italy for towns, for art, for man's handicraft; England for country, for nature, for green lanes and lush copses. Was it not one that loved Italy well who sighed in Italy—
"Oh, to be in England now that April's there?"
And who that loves Italy, and knows England, too, does not echo Browning's wish when April comes round again on dusty Tuscan hilltops? At Perugia, last spring, through weeks of tramontana, how one yearned6 for the sight of yellow English primroses7! Not love England, indeed! Milton's England, Shelley's England; the England of the skylark, the dog-rose, the honeysuckle! Not love England, forsooth! Why, I love every flower, every blade of grass in it. Devonshire lane, close-cropped down, rich water-meadow, bickering8 brooklet9: ah me, how they tug10 at one's heartstrings in Africa! No son of the soil can love England as those love her very stones who have come from newer lands over sea to her ivy-clad church-towers, her mouldering11 castles, her immemorial elms, the berries on her holly12, the may in her hedgerows. Are not all these bound up in our souls with each cherished line of Shakespeare and Wordsworth? do they not rouse faint echoes of Gray and Goldsmith? Even before I ever set foot in England, how I longed to behold13 my first cowslip, my first foxglove! And now, I have wandered through the footpaths14 that run obliquely15 across English pastures, picking meadowsweet and fritillaries, for half a lifetime, till I have learned by heart every leaf and every petal16. You think because I dislike one squalid village—"The Wen," stout18 English William Cobbett delighted to call it—I don't love England. You think because I see some spots on the sun of the English character, I don't love Englishmen. Why, how can any man who speaks the English tongue, and boasts one drop of English blood in his veins19, not be proud of England? England, the mother of poets and thinkers; England, that gave us Newton, Darwin, Spencer; England, that holds in her lap Oxford20, Salisbury, Durham; England of daisy and heather and pine-wood! Are we hewn out of granite21, to be cold before England?
Upon my soul, your unseasonable interruption has almost made me forget what I was going to say; it has made me grow warm, and drop into poetry.
England, I take it, is certainly the prettiest country in Europe. It is almost the most beautiful. I say "almost," because I bethink me of Norway and Switzerland. I say "country," because I bethink me of Rome, Venice, Florence. But, taking it as country, and as country alone, nothing else approaches it. Have you ever thought why? Man made the town, says the proverb, and God made the country. Not so in England. There, man made the country, and beautified it exceedingly. In itself, the land of south-eastern England is absolutely the same as the land of Northern France—that hideous22 tract23 about Boulogne and Amiens which we traverse in silence every time we run across by Calais to Paris. Chalk and clay and sandstone stretch continuously under sea from Kent and Sussex to Flanders and Picardy. The Channel burst through, and made the Straits of Dover; but the land on either side was and still is geologically and physically24 identical. What has made the difference? Man, the planter and gardener. England is beautiful by copse and hedgerow, by pine-clad ridge25 and willow-covered hollow, by meadows interspersed26 with great spreading oaks, by pastures where drowsy27 sheep, deep-fleeced and ruddy-stained, huddle28 under the shade of ancestral beech29-trees. Its loveliness is human. In itself, I believe, the actual contour of England cannot once have been much better than the contour of northern France—though nowadays it is hard indeed to realise it. Judicious30 planting, and a constant eye to picturesque31 effect in scenery, have made England what she is—the garden of Europe.
Of course there are parts of the country which owed, and still owe, their beauty to their wildness—Dartmoor, Exmoor, the West Riding of Yorkshire, the Surrey hills, the Peak in Derbyshire. Yet even these depend more than you would believe, when you take them in detail, on the art of the forester. The view from Leith Hill embraces John Evelyn's woods at Wotton: the larches33 that cover one Jura-like gorge34 were set there well within your and my memory. But elsewhere in England the hand of man has done absolutely everything. The American, when he first visits England, is charmed on his way up from Liverpool to London by the exquisite35 air of antique cultivation36 and soft rural beauty. The very sward is moss-like. Thoroughly37 wild country, indeed, unless bold and mountainous, does not often please one. It is apt to be bare, unattractive, and desolate38. Witness the Veldt, the Steppes, the prairies. You may go through miles and miles of the States and Canada, where the wildness for the most part rather repels39 than delights you. I do not say everywhere; in places the wilderness40 will blossom like a rose; boggy41 margins42 of lakes, fallen trunks in the forest overgrown with wild flowers, make scenes unattainable in our civilised England. Even our roughest scenery is comparatively man-made: our heaths are game preserves; our woodlands are thinned of superfluous43 underbrush; our moors44 are relieved by deliberate plantations45. But England in her own way is unique and unrivalled. Such parks, such greensward, such grassy46 lawns, such wooded tilth, are wholly unknown elsewhere. Compare the blank fields and long poplar-fringed high roads of central France with our Devon or our Warwickshire, and you get at once a just measure of the vast, the unspeakable difference.
And man has done it all. Alone he did it. Often as I take my walks abroad—and when I say abroad I mean in England—I see men at work dotting about exotics of variegated47 foliage48 on some barren hillside, and I say to myself, "There, before my eyes, goes on the beautifying of England." Thirty years ago, the North Downs near Dorking were one bare stretch of white chalky sheep-walk; half of them still remain so; the other half has been planted irregularly with copses and spinneys, which serve to throw up and enhance the beauty of the unaltered intervals49. Beech and larch32 in autumn tints50 set off smooth patches of grass and juniper. Within the last few years, the downs about Leatherhead have been similarly diversified51. Much of the loveliness of rural England is due, one must frankly52 confess, to the big landlords. Though the great houses love us not, we must allow at least that the great houses have cared for the trees in the hedge-rows, and for the timber in the meadows, as well as for the covert53 that sheltered their pheasants, their foxes, and their gamekeepers. But almost as much of England's charm is due to individual small owners or occupiers. 'Tis they who have planted the grounds about villa17 or cottage; they who have stocked the sweet old gardens of yew54 and box, of hollyhock and peony; they who have given us the careless rustic55 grace of the English village. Still, one way or another, man has done it all, whether in grange or in manor-house, in palatial56 estate or in labourer's holding. Look at the French or Belgian hamlet by the side of the English one; look at the French or Belgian farm by the side of our English wealth in wooded glen or sheltered homestead. Bricks and mortar are not covering the whole of England. That is only true of the squalid purlieus and outliers of London, whither Londoners gravitate by mutual57 attraction. If you will go and live in a dingy58 suburb, you can't reasonably complain that all the world's suburban59. Being the most cheerful of pessimists60, a dweller61 in the country all the days of my life, I have no hesitation62 in expressing my profound conviction that within my memory more has been done to beautify than to uglify England. Only, the beautification has been quiet and unobtrusive, while the uglification has been obvious and concentrated. It takes half a year to jerry-build a dingy street, but it takes a decade for newly-planted trees to give the woodland air by imperceptible stages to a stretch of country.
点击收听单词发音
1 moor | |
n.荒野,沼泽;vt.(使)停泊;vi.停泊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 mortar | |
n.灰浆,灰泥;迫击炮;v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 irrational | |
adj.无理性的,失去理性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 yearned | |
渴望,切盼,向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 primroses | |
n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 );淡黄色;追求享乐(招至恶果) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 bickering | |
v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 );口角;(水等)作潺潺声;闪烁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 brooklet | |
n. 细流, 小河 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 tug | |
v.用力拖(或拉);苦干;n.拖;苦干;拖船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 mouldering | |
v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 );腐烂,崩塌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 holly | |
n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 footpaths | |
人行小径,人行道( footpath的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 obliquely | |
adv.斜; 倾斜; 间接; 不光明正大 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 petal | |
n.花瓣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 villa | |
n.别墅,城郊小屋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 granite | |
adj.花岗岩,花岗石 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 tract | |
n.传单,小册子,大片(土地或森林) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 physically | |
adj.物质上,体格上,身体上,按自然规律 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 interspersed | |
adj.[医]散开的;点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 huddle | |
vi.挤作一团;蜷缩;vt.聚集;n.挤在一起的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 beech | |
n.山毛榉;adj.山毛榉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 larch | |
n.落叶松 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 larches | |
n.落叶松(木材)( larch的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 gorge | |
n.咽喉,胃,暴食,山峡;v.塞饱,狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 cultivation | |
n.耕作,培养,栽培(法),养成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 repels | |
v.击退( repel的第三人称单数 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 boggy | |
adj.沼泽多的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 margins | |
边( margin的名词复数 ); 利润; 页边空白; 差数 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 superfluous | |
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 moors | |
v.停泊,系泊(船只)( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 plantations | |
n.种植园,大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 grassy | |
adj.盖满草的;长满草的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 variegated | |
adj.斑驳的,杂色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 foliage | |
n.叶子,树叶,簇叶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 tints | |
色彩( tint的名词复数 ); 带白的颜色; (淡色)染发剂; 痕迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 diversified | |
adj.多样化的,多种经营的v.使多样化,多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 );进入新的商业领域 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 covert | |
adj.隐藏的;暗地里的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 yew | |
n.紫杉属树木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 palatial | |
adj.宫殿般的,宏伟的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 suburban | |
adj.城郊的,在郊区的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 pessimists | |
n.悲观主义者( pessimist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 dweller | |
n.居住者,住客 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |