What am I now about to write?
The history of little more than the events of one year, out of the twenty-four years of my life.
Why do I undertake such an employment as this?
Perhaps, because I think that my narrative1 may do good; because I hope that, one day, it may be put to some warning use. I am now about to relate the story of an error, innocent in its beginning, guilty in its progress, fatal in its results; and I would fain hope that my plain and true record will show that this error was not committed altogether without excuse. When these pages are found after my death, they will perhaps be calmly read and gently judged, as relics2 solemnized by the atoning3 shadows of the grave. Then, the hard sentence against me may be repented4 of; the children of the next generation of our house may be taught to speak charitably of my memory, and may often, of their own accord, think of me kindly5 in the thoughtful watches of the night.
Prompted by these motives6, and by others which I feel, but cannot analyse, I now begin my self-imposed occupation. Hidden amid the far hills of the far West of England, surrounded only by the few simple inhabitants of a fishing hamlet on the Cornish coast, there is little fear that my attention will be distracted from my task; and as little chance that any indolence on my part will delay its speedy accomplishment7. I live under a threat of impending8 hostility9, which may descend10 and overwhelm me, I know not how soon, or in what manner. An enemy, determined11 and deadly, patient alike to wait days or years for his opportunity, is ever lurking12 after me in the dark. In entering on my new employment, I cannot say of my time, that it may be mine for another hour; of my life, that it may last till evening.
Thus it is as no leisure work that I begin my narrative — and begin it, too, on my birthday! On this day I complete my twenty-fourth year; the first new year of my life which has not been greeted by a single kind word, or a single loving wish. But one look of welcome can still find me in my solitude13 — the lovely morning look of nature, as I now see it from the casement14 of my room. Brighter and brighter shines out the lusty sun from banks of purple, rainy cloud; fishermen are spreading their nets to dry on the lower declivities of the rocks; children are playing round the boats drawn15 up on the beach; the sea-breeze blows fresh and pure towards the shore —— all objects are brilliant to look on, all sounds are pleasant to hear, as my pen traces the first lines which open the story of my life.
1 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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2 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
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3 atoning | |
v.补偿,赎(罪)( atone的现在分词 );补偿,弥补,赎回 | |
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4 repented | |
对(自己的所为)感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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6 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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7 accomplishment | |
n.完成,成就,(pl.)造诣,技能 | |
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8 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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9 hostility | |
n.敌对,敌意;抵制[pl.]交战,战争 | |
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10 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
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11 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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12 lurking | |
潜在 | |
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13 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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14 casement | |
n.竖铰链窗;窗扉 | |
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15 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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