I
An unconscionable time a-dying—there is the picture (“I am afraid, gentlemen,”) of your life and of mine. The sands run out, and the hours are “numbered and imputed,” and the days go by; and when the last of these finds us, we have been a long time dying, and what else? The very length is something, if we reach that hour of separation undishonoured; and to have lived at all is doubtless (in the soldierly expression) to have served. There is a tale in Ticitus of how the veterans mutinied in the German wilderness4; of how they mobbed Germanicus, clamouing go home; and of how, seizing their general’s hand, these old, war-worn exiles passed his finger along their toothless gums. Sunt lacrymæ rerum: this was the most eloquent5 of the songs of Simeon. And when a man has lived to a fair age, he bears his marks of service. He may have never been remarked upon the breach7 at the head of the army; at least he shall have lost his teeth on the camp bread.
The idealism of serious people in this age of ours is of a noble character. It never seems to them that they have served enough; they have a fine impatience8 of their virtues9. It were perhaps more modest to be singly thankful that we are no worse. It is not only our enemies, those desperate characters—it is we ourselves who know not what we do,—thence springs the glimmering11 hope that perhaps we do better than we think: that to scramble12 through this random13 business with hands reasonably clean to have played the part of a man or woman with some reasonable fulness, to have often resisted the diabolic, and at the end to be still resisting it, is for the poor human soldier to have done right well. To ask to see some fruit of our endeavour is but a transcendental way of serving for reward; and what we take to be contempt of self is only greed of hire.
And again if we require so much of ourselves, shall we not require much of others? If we do not genially14 judge our own deficiencies, is it not to be feared we shall be even stern to the trespasses15 of others? And he who (looking back upon his own life) can see no more than that he has been unconscionably long a-dying, will he not be tempted16 to think his neighbour unconscionably long of getting hanged? It is probable that nearly all who think of conduct at all, think of it too much; it is certain we all think too much of sin. We are not damned for doing wrong, but for not doing right; Christ would never hear of negative morality; thou shalt was ever his word, with which he superseded17 thou shalt not. To make our idea of morality centre on forbidden acts is to defile18 the imagination and to introduce into our judgments19 of our fellow-men a secret element of gusto. If a thing is wrong for us, we should not dwell upon the thought of it; or we shall soon dwell upon it with inverted20 pleasure. If we cannot drive it from our minds—one thing of two: either our creed21 is in the wrong and we must more indulgently remodel22 it; or else, if our morality be in the right, we are criminal lunatics and should place our persons in restraint. A mark of such unwholesomely divided minds is the passion for interference with others: the Fox without the Tail was of this breed, but had (if his biographer is to be trusted) a certain antique civility now out of date. A man may have a flaw, a weakness, that unfits him for the duties of life, that spoils his temper, that threatens his integrity, or that betrays him into cruelty. It has to be conquered; but it must never he suffered to engross24 his thoughts. The true duties lie all upon the farther side, and must be attended to with a whole mind so soon as this preliminary clearing of the decks has been effected. In order that he may be kind and honest, it may be needful he should become a total abstainer25; let him become so then, and the next day let him forget the circumstance. Trying to be kind and honest will require all his thoughts; a mortified26 appetite is never a wise companion; in so far as he has had to mortify27 an appetite, he will still be the worse man; and of such an one a great deal of cheerfulness will be required in judging life, and a great deal of humility28 in judging others.
It may be argued again that dissatisfaction with our life’s endeavour springs in some degree from dulness. We require higher tasks, because we do not recognise the height of those we have. Trying to be kind and honest seems an affair too simple and too inconsequential for gentlemen of our heroic mould; we had rather set ourselves to something bold, arduous29, and conclusive30; we had rather found a schism31 or suppress a heresy32, cut off a hand or mortify an appetite. But the task before us, which is to co-endure with our existence, is rather one of microscopic33 fineness, and the heroism34 required is that of patience. There is no cutting of the Gordian knots of life; each must be smilingly unravelled35.
To be honest, to be kind—to earn a little and to spend a little less, to make upon the whole a family happier for his presence, to renounce36 when that shall be necessary and not be embittered37, to keep a few friends, but these without capitulation—above all, on the same grim condition, to keep friends with himself—here is a task for all that a man has of fortitude38 and delicacy39. He has an ambitious soul who would ask more; he has a hopeful spirit who should look in such an enterprise to be successful. There is indeed one element in human destiny that not blindness itself can controvert40: whatever else we are intended to do, we are not intended to succeed; failure is the fate allotted41. It is so in every art and study; it is so above all in the continent art of living well. Here is a pleasant thought for the year’s end or for the end of life. Only self-deception will be satisfied, and there need be no despair for the despairer.
II
But Christmas is not only the mile-mark of another year, moving us to thoughts of self-examination: it is a season, from all its associations, whether domestic or religious, suggesting thoughts of joy. A man dissatisfied with his endeavours is a man tempted to sadness. And in the midst of the winter, when his life runs lowest and he is reminded of the empty chairs of his beloved, it is well he should be condemned42 to this fashion of the smiling face. Noble disappointment, noble self-denial, are not to be admired, not even to be pardoned, if they bring bitterness. It is one thing to enter the kingdom of heaven maim43; another to maim yourself and stay without. And the kingdom of heaven is of the child-like, of those who are easy to please, who love and who give pleasure. Mighty44 men of their hands, the smiters and the builders and the judges, have lived long and done sternly and yet preserved this lovely character; and among our carpet interests and twopenny concerns, the shame were indelible if we should lose it. Gentleness and cheerfulness, these come before all morality; they are the perfect duties. And it is the trouble with moral men that they have neither one nor other. It was the moral man, the Pharisee, whom Christ could not away with. If your morals make you dreary45, depend upon it they are wrong. I do not say “give them up,” for they may be all you have; but conceal46 them like a vice6, lest they should spoil the lives of better and simpler people.
A strange temptation attends upon man: to keep his eye on pleasures, even when he will not share in them; to aim all his morals against them. This very year a lady (singular iconoclast47!) proclaimed a crusade against dolls; and the racy sermon against lust48 is a feature of the age. I venture to call such moralists insincere. At any excess or perversion49 of a natural appetite, their lyre sounds of itself with relishing50 denunciations; but for all displays of the truly diabolic—envy, malice51, the mean lie, the mean silence, the calumnious52 truth, the back-biter, the petty tyrant53, the peevish54 poisoner of family life—their standard is quite different. These are wrong, they will admit, yet somehow not so wrong; there is no zeal55 in their assault on them, no secret element of gusto warms up the sermon; it is for things not wrong in themselves that they reserve the choicest of their indignation. A man may naturally disclaim56 all moral kinship with the Reverend Mr. Zola or the hobgoblin old lady of the dolls; for these are gross and naked instances. And yet in each of us some similar element resides. The sight of a pleasure in which we cannot or else will not share moves us to a particular impatience. It may be because we are envious57, or because we are sad, or because we dislike noise and romping—being so refined, or because—being so philosophic—we have an over-weighing sense of life’s gravity: at least, as we go on in years, we are all tempted to frown upon our neighbour’s pleasures. People are nowadays so fond of resisting temptations; here is one to be resisted. They are fond of self-denial; here is a propensity58 that cannot be too peremptorily59 denied. There is an idea abroad among moral people that they should make their neighbours good. One person I have to make good: myself. But my duty to my neighbour is much more nearly expressed by saying that I have to make him happy—if I may.
III
Happiness and goodness, according to canting moralists, stand in the relation of effect and cause. There was never anything less proved or less probable: our happiness is never in our own hands; we inherit our constitution; we stand buffet60 among friends and enemies; we may be so built as to feel a sneer61 or an aspersion62 with unusual keenness, and so circumstanced as to be unusually exposed to them; we may have nerves very sensitive to pain, and be afflicted63 with a disease very painful. Virtue10 will not help us, and it is not meant to help us. It is not even its own reward, except for the self-centred and—I had almost said—the unamiable. No man can pacify64 his conscience; if quiet be what he want, he shall do better to let that organ perish from disuse. And to avoid the penalties of the law, and the minor65 capitis diminutio of social ostracism66, is an affair of wisdom—of cunning, if you will—and not of virtue.
In his own life, then, a man is not to expect happiness, only to profit by it gladly when it shall arise; he is on duty here; he knows not how or why, and does not need to know; he knows not for what hire, and must not ask. Somehow or other, though he does not know what goodness is, he must try to be good; somehow or other, though he cannot tell what will do it, he must try to give happiness to others. And no doubt there comes in here a frequent clash of duties. How far is he to make his neighbour happy? How far must he respect that smiling face, so easy to cloud, so hard to brighten again? And how far, on the other side, is he bound to be his brother’s keeper and the prophet of his own morality? How far must he resent evil?
The difficulty is that we have little guidance; Christ’s sayings on the point being hard to reconcile with each other, and (the most of them) hard to accept. But the truth of his teaching would seem to be this: in our own person and fortune, we should be ready to accept and to pardon all; it is our cheek we are to turn, our coat that we are to give away to the man who has taken our cloak. But when another’s face is buffeted67, perhaps a little of the lion will become us best. That we are to suffer others to be injured, and stand by, is not conceivable and surely not desirable. Revenge, says Bacon, is a kind of wild justice; its judgments at least are delivered by an insane judge; and in our own quarrel we can see nothing truly and do nothing wisely. But in the quarrel of our neighbour, let us be more bold. One person’s happiness is as sacred as another’s; when we cannot defend both, let us defend one with a stout68 heart. It is only in so far as we are doing this, that we have any right to interfere23: the defence of B is our only ground of action against A. A has as good a right to go to the devil, as we to go to glory; and neither knows what he does.
The truth is that all these interventions69 and denunciations and militant70 mongerings of moral half-truths, though they be sometimes needful, though they are often enjoyable, do yet belong to an inferior grade of duties. Ill-temper and envy and revenge find here an arsenal71 of pious72 disguises; this is the playground of inverted lusts73. With a little more patience and a little less temper, a gentler and wiser method might be found in almost every case; and the knot that we cut by some fine heady quarrel-scene in private life, or, in public affairs, by some denunciatory act against what we are pleased to call our neighbour’s vices74, might yet have been unwoven by the hand of sympathy.
IV
To look back upon the past year, and see how little we have striven and to what small purpose; and how often we have been cowardly and hung back, or temerarious and rushed unwisely in; and how every day and all day long we have transgressed75 the law of kindness;—it may seem a paradox76, but in the bitterness of these discoveries, a certain consolation77 resides. Life is not designed to minister to a man’s vanity. He goes upon his long business most of the time with a hanging head, and all the time like a blind child. Full of rewards and pleasures as it is—so that to see the day break or the moon rise, or to meet a friend, or to hear the dinner-call when he is hungry, fills him with surprising joys—this world is yet for him no abiding78 city. Friendships fall through, health fails, weariness assails79 him; year after year, he must thumb the hardly varying record of his own weakness and folly80. It is a friendly process of detachment. When the time comes that he should go, there need be few illusions left about himself. Here lies one who meant well, tried a little, failed much:—surely that may be his epitaph, of which he need not be ashamed. Nor will he complain at the summons which calls a defeated soldier from the field: defeated, ay, if he were Paul or Marcus Aurelius!—but if there is still one inch of fight in his old spirit, undishonoured. The faith which sustained him in his life-long blindness and life-long disappointment will scarce even be required in this last formality of laying down his arms. Give him a march with his old bones; there, out of the glorious sun-coloured earth, out of the day and the dust and the ecstasy—there goes another Faithful Failure!
From a recent book of verse, where there is more than one such beautiful and manly81 poem, I take this memorial piece: it says better than I can, what I love to think; let it be our parting word.
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day’s work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
A shining peace.
Shine, and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,
Closing his benediction88,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night—
Night, with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.
“So be my passing!
My task accomplished89 and the long day done,
My wages taken, and in my heart
Some late lark singing,
Let me be gathered to the quiet west,
The sundown splendid and serene,
Death.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
valedictory
|
|
| adj.告别的；n.告别演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
embodied
|
|
| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
vice
|
|
| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
breach
|
|
| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
glimmering
|
|
| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
scramble
|
|
| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
genially
|
|
| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
trespasses
|
|
| 罪过( trespass的名词复数 )； 非法进入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
superseded
|
|
| [医]被代替的，废弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
defile
|
|
| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
judgments
|
|
| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
inverted
|
|
| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
creed
|
|
| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
remodel
|
|
| v.改造，改型，改变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
engross
|
|
| v.使全神贯注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
abstainer
|
|
| 节制者，戒酒者，弃权者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
mortified
|
|
| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
mortify
|
|
| v.克制，禁欲，使受辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
arduous
|
|
| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
conclusive
|
|
| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
schism
|
|
| n.分派，派系，分裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
heresy
|
|
| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
microscopic
|
|
| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
heroism
|
|
| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
unravelled
|
|
| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
renounce
|
|
| v.放弃；拒绝承认，宣布与…断绝关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
embittered
|
|
| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
fortitude
|
|
| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
controvert
|
|
| v.否定；否认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
maim
|
|
| v.使残废，使不能工作，使伤残 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
iconoclast
|
|
| n.反对崇拜偶像者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
perversion
|
|
| n.曲解；堕落；反常 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
relishing
|
|
| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
calumnious
|
|
| adj.毁谤的，中伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
peevish
|
|
| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
disclaim
|
|
| v.放弃权利，拒绝承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
envious
|
|
| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
propensity
|
|
| n.倾向；习性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
peremptorily
|
|
| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
buffet
|
|
| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sneer
|
|
| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
aspersion
|
|
| n.诽谤，中伤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
pacify
|
|
| vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒)；抚慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
ostracism
|
|
| n.放逐；排斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
buffeted
|
|
| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
interventions
|
|
| n.介入，干涉，干预( intervention的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
militant
|
|
| adj.激进的，好斗的；n.激进分子，斗士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
arsenal
|
|
| n.兵工厂，军械库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
lusts
|
|
| 贪求（lust的第三人称单数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
vices
|
|
| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
transgressed
|
|
| v.超越( transgress的过去式和过去分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
paradox
|
|
| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
abiding
|
|
| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
assails
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的第三人称单数 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
manly
|
|
| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
lark
|
|
| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
serene
|
|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
ascends
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
spires
|
|
| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
benediction
|
|
| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |