Now I am not going to make fun of these people. I am not going to make fun of them because I am not sure that I don't suffer from their infirmity. If I don't I am certainly an exceptional person, for the people who really think for themselves are almost as scarce as virtuous6 people were found to be in the Cities of the Plain. We are most of us second-hand7 thinkers, and second-hand thinkers are not thinkers at all. Those good people before the picture were not thinking their own thoughts: they were thinking what they thought was the right thing to think. They had the luck to find themselves out. Probably it did not do them any good, but at least they knew privately8 what humbugs9 they were, what empty echoes of an echo they had discovered themselves to be. They had been taught—heaven help them!—to admire those vacant prettinesses of Leader and they were so docile10 that they admired anything they believed to be his even when it wasn't his.
It reminds me of the story of the two Italians who quarrelled so long and so bitterly over the relative merits of Tasso and Ariosto that at last they fought a duel11. And as they lay dying on the ground one of them said to the other, "And to think that I have never read a line of them." "Nor I either," said the other. Then they expired. I do not suppose that story is true in fact, but it is true in spirit. Men are always dying for other people's opinions, prejudices they have inherited from somebody else, ideas they have borrowed second-hand. Many of us go through life without ever having had a genuine thought of our own on any subject of the mind. We think in flocks and once in the flock we go wherever the bellwether12 leads us.
It is not only the ignorant who are afflicted13 with this servility of mind. Horace Walpole was enraptured14 with the Rowley Poems when he thought they were the work of a mediæval monk15: when he found they were the work of Chatterton himself his interest in them ceased and he behaved to the poet like a cad. Yet the poems were far more wonderful as the productions of the "marvellous boy" of sixteen than they would have been as the productions of a man of sixty. The literary world of the eighteenth century thought Ossian hardly inferior to Homer; but when Macpherson's forgery16 was indisputable it dropped the imposture17 into the deepest pit of oblivion. Yet, as poetry, it was as good or bad—I have never read it—in the one case as in the other.
There is a delicious story told by Anatole France which bears on this subject. In some examination in Paris the Military Board gave the candidates a piece of dictation consisting of an unsigned page. It was printed in the papers as an example of bad French. "Wherever did these military fellows," it was asked, "find such a farrago of uncouth18 and ridiculous phrases?" In his own literary circles Anatole France himself heard the passage held up to laughter and torn to tatters. The critic who laughed loudest, he says, was an enthusiastic admirer of Michelet. Yet the passage was from Michelet himself, from Michelet at his best, from Michelet in his finest period. How the great sceptic must have enjoyed that evening!
It is not that we cannot think. It is that we are afraid to think. It is so much easier to go with the tide than against it, to shout with the crowd than to stand lonely and suspect in the midst of it. Even some of us who try to escape this hypnotism of the flock do not succeed in thinking independently. We only succeed in getting into other flocks. Think of that avalanche19 of crazy art that descended20 on us some years ago, the Cubists and Dottists and Spottists and Futurists and other cranks, who filled London with their shows, and set all the "advanced" people singing their praises. They were not real praises that expressed genuine feeling. They were the artificial enthusiasms of people who wanted to join in the latest fashion. They would rave21 over any imbecility rather than not be in the latest fashion—rather than not be thought clever enough to find a meaning in things that had no meaning.
We are too timid to think alone, too humble22 to trust our own feeling or our own judgment23. We want some authority to lean up against, and when we have got it we mouth its shibboleths24 with as little independent thought as children reciting the "twice-times" table. I would rather a man should think ignorantly than that he should be merely an echo. I once heard an Evangelical clergyman in the pulpit, speaking of Shakespeare, gravely remark that he "could never see anything in that writer." I smiled at his naïveté, but I respected his courage. He couldn't see anything in Shakespeare and he was too honest to pretend that he could. That is far better than the affectations with which men conceal25 the poverty of their minds and their intellectual servility.
In other days the man that dared to think for himself ran the risk of being burned. Giordano Bruno, who was himself burned, has left us a description of the Oxford26 of his day which shows how tyrannical established thought can be. Aristotle was almost as sacred as the Bible, and the University statutes27 enacted28 that "Bachelors and Masters who did not follow Aristotle faithfully were liable to a fine of five shillings for every point of divergence29 and for every fault committed against the Logic30 of the Organon." We have liberated31 thought from the restraints of the policeman and the executioner since then, but in liberating32 it we have lost our reverence33 for its independence and integrity. We are free to think as we please, and so most of us cease to think at all, and follow the fashions of thought as servilely as we follow the fashions in hats.
The evil, I suppose, lies in our education. We standardise our children. We aim at making them like ourselves instead of teaching them to be themselves—new incarnations of the human spirit, new prophets and teachers, new adventurers in the wilderness34 of the world. We are more concerned about putting our thoughts into their heads than in drawing their thoughts out, and we succeed in making them rich in knowledge but poor in wisdom. They are not in fear of the stake, but they are in fear of the judgment of the world, which has no more title to respect than those old statutes of Oxford which we laugh at to-day. The truth, I fear, is that thought does not thrive on freedom. It only thrives under suppression. We need to have our liberties taken away from us in order to discover that they are worth dying for.
点击收听单词发音
1 ecstasies | |
狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 ); 出神; 入迷; 迷幻药 | |
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2 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
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3 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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4 strenuously | |
adv.奋发地,费力地 | |
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5 raptures | |
极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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6 virtuous | |
adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
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7 second-hand | |
adj.用过的,旧的,二手的 | |
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8 privately | |
adv.以私人的身份,悄悄地,私下地 | |
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9 humbugs | |
欺骗( humbug的名词复数 ); 虚伪; 骗子; 薄荷硬糖 | |
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10 docile | |
adj.驯服的,易控制的,容易教的 | |
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11 duel | |
n./v.决斗;(双方的)斗争 | |
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12 bellwether | |
n.系铃的公羊,前导,领导者,群众的首领 | |
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13 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14 enraptured | |
v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15 monk | |
n.和尚,僧侣,修道士 | |
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16 forgery | |
n.伪造的文件等,赝品,伪造(行为) | |
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17 imposture | |
n.冒名顶替,欺骗 | |
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18 uncouth | |
adj.无教养的,粗鲁的 | |
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19 avalanche | |
n.雪崩,大量涌来 | |
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20 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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21 rave | |
vi.胡言乱语;热衷谈论;n.热情赞扬 | |
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22 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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23 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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24 shibboleths | |
n.(党派、集团等的)准则( shibboleth的名词复数 );教条;用语;行话 | |
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25 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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26 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
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27 statutes | |
成文法( statute的名词复数 ); 法令; 法规; 章程 | |
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28 enacted | |
制定(法律),通过(法案)( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29 divergence | |
n.分歧,岔开 | |
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30 logic | |
n.逻辑(学);逻辑性 | |
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31 liberated | |
a.无拘束的,放纵的 | |
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32 liberating | |
解放,释放( liberate的现在分词 ) | |
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33 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
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34 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
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