伟大的思想(第五辑)(套装全10册)(双语版)
Author: 雅各布·布克哈特; 泰戈尔; 波德莱尔; 约翰·洛克; 庄子; 索伦·克尔凯郭尔; 乔纳森·斯威夫特; 克里斯蒂娜·德·皮桑; 陀思妥耶夫斯基; 查尔斯·麦基
Date: 2016-05-31T16:00:00+00:00
Publisher: 中国出版集团,中译出版社

总目录

论作为艺术品的国家
民族主义
现代生活的画家
论语言的滥用
道法自然
恐惧和战栗
澡盆故事
淑女之城
宗教大法官
非同寻常的大众幻想

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
引言
第一章　十四世纪的暴君
第二章　十五世纪的暴君专制
第三章　小专制国家
第四章　大王朝
第五章　暴君的反对者
第六章　共和国：威尼斯和佛罗伦萨
第七章　外交政策
第八章　战争艺术
第九章　罗马教皇政府
第十章　爱国主义精神
Introduction
Despots of the Fourteenth Century
Despots of the Fifteenth Century
The Smaller Despotisms
The Greater Dynasties
The Opponents of the Despots
The Republics: Venice and Florence
Foreign Policy
War as a Work of Art
The Papacy
Patriotism
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

论作为艺术品的国家

（英汉双语）

［瑞士］雅各布·布克哈特　著
孙平华　于艳芳　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

论作为艺术品的国家：英汉双语／（瑞士）布克哈特著；孙平华，于艳芳译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3880-8

Ⅰ．①论…　Ⅱ．①布…　②孙…　③于…　Ⅲ．①英语－汉语－对照读物　②文艺复兴－研究－意大利　Ⅳ．①H319.4:K

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

雅各布·布克哈特（Jacob Burckhardt, 1818—1897），19世纪杰出的文化历史学家，出生于瑞士巴塞尔一个古老的名门望族家庭。1839年至1843年留学德国，获哲学博士学位。回国后，在巴塞尔大学执教，长期担任历史学与艺术史教席教授。1897年8月8日，在巴塞尔的寓所去世。布克哈特终生未婚，并一直定居巴塞尔。重点研究欧洲艺术史以及人文主义。

布克哈特最重要的著作有《君士坦丁大帝时代》（Die Zeit Konstantin des Großen）（1853年）、《向导：意大利艺术品鉴赏导论》（Der Cicerone. Eine Anleitung zum Genuß der Kunstwerke Italiens）（1855年）、《意大利文艺复兴时期的文化》（Die Cultur der Renaissance in Italien）（1860年），还有作者去世后由他人整理和出版的两部重要作品《世界历史沉思录》（Weltgeschichtliche Betrachtungen）和三卷本的《希腊文化史》（Griechische Kulturgeschichte）。其中最具代表性的是《意大利文艺复兴时期的文化》一书。文艺复兴是欧洲历史上具有重大意义的新文化运动。恩格斯评价为，“这是一次人类从未经历过的最伟大的、进步的变革”。【1】

布克哈特最突出的贡献是关于意大利文艺复兴运动的研究。欧洲的传统历史学家，一直到十九世纪，都认为历史学的研究范围在于政治和军事；而文艺复兴属于思想、文学和艺术领域，在传统的历史学中没有地位。布克哈特在古典主义学派温克尔曼（Johann Joachim Winckelmanns）和歌德（Johann Wolfgang Goethe）等人的影响下，形成了以美学、人类学作为观察人类历史和思想的出发点的研究方式，这与前人过分重视政治和军事不同。德国埃森文化科学研究所所长、当代著名历史理论家耶尔恩·吕森在为《世界历史沉思录》中译本撰写的一篇长篇序言中，如此评价布克哈特：“他尝试把人类学当作历史思维的基础，并以此来代替历史哲学，从而发展了考察历史的新方法。”【2】

布克哈特的代表作《意大利文艺复兴时期的文化》是自伏尔泰以来，欧洲学术界第一部关于文艺复兴运动综合研究的专著，它奠定了近代西方历史学在此领域的正统理论，具有划时代意义。英国著名历史学家阿克顿勋爵评价此书是“现有著作中关于文化史的一部最深刻、最精确的研究著作”。

《意大利文艺复兴时期的文化》全书共有六篇，记述了从十三世纪下半叶到十六世纪中叶这三百年间意大利文化的发展情况，依次阐述了政治、思想、学术、社交生活和道德宗教等方面的内容。本书《论作为艺术品的国家》是《意大利文艺复兴时期的文化》的第一篇也是最长的一篇，约占全书四分之一左右，下分十章，从不同侧面叙述了文艺复兴时期意大利的政治制度和政治形势。书中，布克哈特重视的不是具体的政治事件，而是影响社会变化的政治背景。这种以论述政治形势开始，接着介绍文化状况的撰史方法，为欧洲后来的文化史著述树立了一个范例。

《意大利文艺复兴时期的文化》自出版以来，各种译本风行不衰，以其经典的地位一直吸引着每一代读者。

注释

【1】　中共中央马克思恩格斯列宁斯大林著作编译局编，《马克思恩格斯选集》（第三卷），北京：人民出版社1995年版，第445页。

【2】　耶尔恩·吕森，雅各布·布克哈特的生平和著作，载于雅各布·布克哈特著，《世界历史沉思录》，北京：北京大学出版社2007年版，第1页。

引　言

本书的题目从最严谨的字面意义来说是一篇论文的题目。作者比任何人都清楚他自己是以何等有限的方法和力量来进行如此艰巨的工作的。即使他能更自信地看待自己的研究，对于能否得到有识者的赞同，也几乎不能因此而感到有更大的把握。也许任何一种文化在每个人的眼中会呈现出不同的画面；在探讨一种像我们自己的母亲般的、现在仍然在影响着我们的文化时，必然会随时显示出作者和读者个人的判断和感觉。我们在一望无际的大海上冒险航行，可能有许多道路和方向，对于本书研究所使用的同样的材料，在别人手中，很有可能不仅处理和应用的方式迥异，而且会得出截然不同的结论。的确，本课题非常重要，仍需进一步的探索，也许从不同的视角研究起来更具优势。而且，如有人耐心倾听，并把本书的整体加以评价，我们会感到满足。撰写文化史的最大困难在于，为了各方面易于理解，一个伟大的智识进程必须被分成一个个阶段，并且常常近乎武断地予以分门别类。我们原打算写一本专门论文艺复兴时期艺术的著作来弥补一些本书未及论述的内容——然而，此想法只得到部分的实现。教皇们与霍亨斯陶芬王朝之间的斗争使意大利处于一种与西方其他国家完全不同的政治环境中。在法国、西班牙和英格兰，封建制度组织极其严密，以至于当它解体时很自然地成为统一的君主制国家。在德国，封建制度至少有助于维持帝国表面上的统一；而意大利几乎已完全摆脱了封建制度。十四世纪的历代皇帝，即使在最顺利的情况下，也不再是作为封建领主而是作为已存各势力可能的领袖和支柱，受到人们的承认和尊敬。而罗马教皇政权及其傀儡和同盟，有力量阻止未来的国家统一，本身却无力完成统一。在皇帝和教皇政权之间，有许多政治组织——共和国和专制君主国——一些历史较久，一些刚刚兴起，这些政治组织只是依靠维持自己生存的实力才得以存在。从它们身上，我们第一次觉察到欧洲的现代政治精神，即随心所欲以及经常呈现出的极端自私的最恶劣特征，侵害每一种权利，扼杀健康文化的每一个萌芽。但是无论在什么地方，只要阻止了或以任何方式补偿了这种邪恶的趋势，历史上就会出现一个新的事实——经过深思和谋算所产生的国家，作为一种艺术品的国家。这种新生活以千百种形式，在共和国家和专制国家中表现出来，也决定了他们的内部政治制度，还有国家的外交政策。我们的探讨范围仅限于由专制国家所表现出来的这种更完整、更明确的国家类型。

南意大利和西西里的诺曼帝国，在弗里德里克二世改革之后，为暴君统治下的国家的内部情况提供了一个令人难忘的近似写照。弗里德里克，这位首位登上王位宝座的现代型的统治者，由于成长于邻邦撒拉森人的叛乱和危险中，因此很早就习惯于非常客观地处理各种事务。他对撒拉森国家的内部局势和管理情况的熟悉以及与教皇的殊死斗争，迫使他及其对手倾尽全力应付此事。弗里德里克所采取的措施（尤其是在1231年之后），目的是完全摧毁封建政体，把人民变成无意志、无反抗手段却最能为国库带来收入的广大群众。他用一种在此之前整个西方国家无人知晓的方式，把整个司法权和行政权集于一身。任何职位的任用都不需要人民的选举，如有提出异议的地区，则摧毁其城池，把其居民变为奴隶，以示惩罚。各种赋税，根据综合评估以及伊斯兰教国家的做法，以残酷而严苛的方式来征收。的确，如果不以此方式，要想从东方人那儿收到钱是不可能的。简言之，在这里，我们看到的不是人民，而仅仅是一群唯命是从的臣民。比如，不经特别许可，不准与外国人结婚并且绝不允许在国外求学。那不勒斯大学，是我们所知道的第一所限制学习自由的大学，而东方各国，在这些方面不管怎样是不限制他们的年轻人的。弗里德里克按照伊斯兰教国家统治者的做法，为了自己个人的利益，在地中海各地进行贸易，把许多商品垄断在自己手中，并以各种方式限制臣民的商业活动。法蒂玛王朝的哈里发们尽管不信仰秘教，但至少在初期，他们容忍人民的各种宗教信仰。而弗里德里克却通过设立审判异端的宗教法庭来建立他的政府体制。当我们记起他以异教徒之名迫害自治城市的自由民代表时，这种宗教法庭似乎更应予以谴责。最后，国内警察，还有对外作战的军队的核心，是由从西西里带到诺切拉和卢切拉的撒拉森人组成的——这些人对人民痛苦的呼声置若罔闻，并且也不在乎教堂的禁令。后期，人民因为久已不习武备，只好坐视曼弗雷的灭亡和安茹的查理攫取政权，后者发现这一体制行之有效，便继续使用。

这个实行中央集权政治的皇帝身边还出现了一个最令人感到奇怪的篡位者，即他的代理主教及女婿埃兹利诺·达·罗曼诺。他不是任何政府或组织的代表，因为他所有的活动都浪费在了北意大利东部地区的最高权力的争夺上。但是作为一种政治典型人物，他对于未来的重要性并不亚于他的保护人弗里德里克皇帝。在此之前发生在中世纪的征服和篡权，不是以真正或虚假的继承权为理由，就是以反对不信教者和开除教籍的人为借口。在这里，第一次公开通过大屠杀和无休止的暴行努力建立政权，总之，采用一切手段，只为达到最终目的。埃兹利诺的后继者们，甚至凯撒·波几亚，也比不上埃兹利诺所犯下的滔天大罪。但是先行者的榜样是不会被人忘记的，他的灭亡在各国并没带来正义的回归，也没有起到对后来篡位者的警示作用。

在这样一个时期，生为弗雷德里克臣民的圣托马斯·阿奎那徒劳地创立了君主立宪的理论，提出君主应得到由自己命名的上议院的支持，并且君主是由人民选举产生的代表。这些理论在讲堂外得不到任何反响，并且弗雷德里克和埃兹利诺过去是、现在仍然是意大利十三世纪伟大的政治形象。他们已成为半传奇色彩的人物性格成为《古代故事百篇》中最重要的主题，这本书无疑是在本世纪【1】创作的。在讲述埃兹利诺的故事中，由于他给人以威力无边的印象而让人心生敬畏。从亲历者的编年史到后来诗人们半神话式的悲剧作品，埃兹利诺的形象已成为整个文学的中心。

注释

【1】　指作者所处的十九世纪。——译者注

第一章　十四世纪的暴君

十四世纪大大小小施行暴政的国家证明像这样的事例一直在持续。他们的恶行昭著，并且历史学家在其著作中不断详细描述。作为只能依靠自己而生存，并为此目的科学构建内部组织的国家，它们比历史故事更能引起我们的兴趣。

由于有目的地采用了当时意大利之外的君主未想到的手段，并把此手段与国内实行的几乎绝对的权力相结合，所以在暴君中产生了奇怪的人和奇怪的生活方式。一个精明的统治者治理国家的要诀是：尽可能在他所发现的或者在他起初安排的项目上征税。主要的收入来源包括：根据估定价值所征收的土地税、有明确数额的消费品税、进出口货物关税，还有统治家族的私有财产。税收增加的唯一可能性在于商业的发展和国家整体上的更加昌盛。像我们在自由城市里所见到的贷款，在这里是没有的。只要公信力不动摇，经过周密计划实行的没收所获得的钱财被认为是一种可取的筹款方式——例如，由迫使财政官下台并抢夺其财产这一真正东方人的方式来达到的一种目的。

从此收入中支出小朝廷、卫兵、雇佣军和公共建筑的费用，以及服侍君主个人的滑稽演员和其他有特长人员的费用。暴君统治的不合法使他陷于孤立，并不断被危险包围。他所结成的最值得尊敬的联盟就是有知识的人，而不管其出身。十三世纪北方君主只限于对骑士和歌功颂德的贵族豪爽大方，而意大利的暴君做法不同。他渴望声名，热衷不朽的作品，因此他所需要的是才能，而不是出身。与诗人、学者为伍，他感觉自己处于一个新的位置，确实，他觉得自己几乎拥有了新的合法性。

在这方面，没有其他君主比维罗纳的统治者坎·格兰德·戴拉·斯卡拉更出名，此人在宫廷中招待著名的流亡者，在整个意大利的代表中是数一数二的。文人并非不感激，皮特拉克，因拜谒这些人的宫廷一直受到的指责，描述了一幅十四世纪君主的理想图画。他虽然向他的保护人帕多瓦君主提出很高的要求，却是以一种表明他认为君主有能力实现的方式提出的。

您一定不要做臣民的主人，而要做他们的父亲，像爱您自己的孩子、爱您自己的身体一样爱他们。武器、卫兵和军队，您可用来抵御敌人；而对于您的臣民，善意足矣。提到人民，当然，我指的是那些热爱现存秩序的人；至于那些每天渴望变革的人，他们是谋反者和叛徒，对他们要通过严苛的法律加以惩治。

接着，文章对国家的无限权力进行了详细、完全现代式的描述。君主应该掌管一切事务，维护和修建教堂和公共建筑，维持城市秩序，排净沼泽的水，监督酒类和粮食的供应；摊派捐税时，使人民认识到税收的必要性；他还要帮助病人和无助者，并保护和招待优秀学者，这些人影响到他后世声名的流传。

但是，这种制度不管有什么光明的方面和个别统治者的优点，十四世纪的人们仍然多多少少明显意识到这种大多数君主国家的短暂性和不确定性。由于像这样的政治组织机构的安全与其疆域的大小成正比，这样就驱使着较大的王国不断吞并较小的国家。当时，上百个小君主牺牲在了维斯康提这一个家族手中。这种外部的危险直接导致内部无休止的骚乱。这种局势对统治者的性格一般造成了最坏的影响。握有绝对的权力、沉溺于奢华、放纵自私，还有敌人及谋反者所带来的危险，所有这些不可避免地使他变成最坏的暴君。要是他能信任最近的亲戚就好了！但是在一切都不合法的情况下，无论是王位的继承，还是统治者财产的分配，都不可能有规范的继承法；因此，如果继承者无能或未成年，为了家族本身的利益，他就可能被更果敢坚定的叔伯或堂兄弟所取代。对私生子的承认或排除是争斗的根源，因此这些家庭大多数都被一群心存不满和伺机报复的族人所困扰。这种情况引起一次次叛乱和家族杀戮的可怕场面。有时，觊觎王位者流亡在国外，像维斯康提家族，当时在加达湖上捕鱼为生，却冷漠而又耐心地关注着国内的局势。当对手的使者问其中一位，他考虑什么时候、以什么方式回米兰时，他回答道：“和当年驱逐我的那些人一样的方式，但要等到他的罪恶超过我当年罪恶的时候。”有时，暴君十分恶劣地违背了公众的道德，基于拯救家族的考虑，他被其亲属所杀，以平息他所引起的公愤。有几个这样的情况，政府掌握在整个家族手中或至少统治者必须要听从他们的意见，在这里，对财产和权势的分配也常常引起激烈的争夺。

这整个制度激起了当时佛罗伦萨的作家们深切而持久的仇恨。即使暴君用以给民众留下印象而不是满足自己虚荣心所举办的庆典排场，也引起了作家们最辛辣的嘲讽。有人胆敢冒险，如果落入作家手中，那就倒霉了。像比萨的崛起者阿盖罗总督（1364），常常手持金杖，骑马出行，有时出现在王宫的窗口，让民众观看。“像遗物被展览”，他斜倚在绣花织物和软垫上，被跪着的侍从像服侍教皇或皇帝一样服侍着。然而，佛罗伦萨的老作家们常常以一种高傲的严肃语气来谈论这个话题。但丁看出并清楚地表明新君主野心的粗俗和平庸这一特征。他们的喇叭和钟铃，他们的号角和长笛，有何意义？不过是警示“刽子手来了，抢劫者来了”。暴君的城堡像大家所想象的，是一座高耸孤零的建筑，里面布满了地牢和偷听管道，是残忍和痛苦之源。对于所有那些为暴君服务的人，已经预先被告知要遭到不幸，即使暴君自己也最终变成了让人可怜的对象，他们必然成为所有善良正直的人们的敌人，他不可能相信任何人，并且从他臣民的脸上能够读出期待他下台的信息。随着暴君专制国家的崛起、发展和巩固，在其中也暗暗滋长着注定使它们瓦解和灭亡的因素。但是还没谈到这种憎恨的最深层根源，佛罗伦萨当时是人类个性得到最丰富发展的地方，而对于暴君们，除了他们自己的以及最亲近依附者的个性外，不容忍其他人个性的存在和发展。严格实施对个人的控制，甚至建立了护照的制度。

许多暴君迷信占星术、不信仰宗教，在同时代人心中，这种被上帝舍弃的可怕的存在给涂上了一层怪异的色彩。当卡拉拉家族的最后一位君主不能再保卫遭受瘟疫袭击的帕多瓦的城墙和城门，四面又被威尼斯人所包围时（1405），卫兵听到他对魔鬼喊道“杀死我吧”。

从乔万尼大主教去世后（1354），在米兰的维斯康提家族中无疑能发现十四世纪最完整的、最具启示性的暴君专制的类型。在贝尔那博和罗马最坏的皇帝之间清楚地显示出家族的相像。当时人们生活的重中之重就是君主的野猪狩猎活动，不管是谁，只要妨碍狩猎，就施以极刑处死。满心恐惧的人们被迫喂养五千头猎犬，并要严格保证它们的健康和安全。君主想尽一切办法强征各种捐税；他的七个女儿每人得到一笔十万金弗罗林的嫁妆；他还搜刮了大量的金银珠宝。他妻子去世时（1384），他向臣民发布一个告示，要他们分担他的哀伤（就像他们曾经分享他的快乐一样），并且要穿丧服一年。他的侄子吉安加利佐使他就范于自己权力之下的“突袭事件”（1385）——至今仍使后世的历史学家惊心动魄的著名阴谋之一——清楚显示出吉安加利佐的特征。

在吉安加利佐身上最大程度地表现出大部分暴君所具有的对修建巨大工程的狂热。他以三十万金弗罗林为代价，承担了巨大堤坝的建造工程。必要时，把明乔河水从曼图亚改道，把布莱塔河水从帕多瓦改道，结果，致使这两个城市全无防御能力。事实上，他很可能考虑要排干威尼斯的湖水。他在帕维亚修建了女修道院中最好的切尔托莎修道院；并修建了雄伟壮丽超越基督教界所有教堂的米兰大教堂。帕维亚王宫由其父加利佐初建，他在位时竣工，很可能是欧洲王宫中最宏伟的。他把他著名的图书室和他所收集的大批圣贤遗物（对此他有一种奇怪的信仰）转移至此处。要是这种性格的君主对政治没有最高野心的话，那真让人感到奇怪。温切斯劳斯国王封他为大公（1395），当他病逝时（1402），他所渴望的只是意大利王国或帝国的王冠。据说，单单一年，他整个领地付给他除了一百二十万金弗罗林的常规贡赋外，还有不少于八十万金弗罗林的特别补贴。在他死后，他用各种武力统一起来的领地四分五裂了；并有一段时期，他的继任者连维持原来的核心王国都有困难。他的儿子乔万尼·马利亚（死于1412年）和菲利波·马利亚（死于1417年），若是生活在不同国家，或身处其他传统中，不好说会变成什么样的人；但是，作为这个家族的后嗣，他们继承了一代代积累的残忍和怯懦的可怕资产。

乔万尼·马利亚也以他的狗著称，然而这些狗不再用来打猎，而是专为撕扯人肉。它们的名字像皇帝瓦伦廷尼安的熊一样一一流传下来。1409年5月，当战事正酣，饥饿的人们在街上向他喊着“和平！和平！”时，他派雇佣军扑向他们，二百个人被夺取了生命；他禁止人们说“和平”和“战争”这两个词语，违者处以绞刑，加以严惩，并且命令牧师说“赐给我们安宁”来取代“赐给我们和平”。最后，一群谋反者利用这个丧心病狂的统治者的雇佣兵大队长法西诺·凯内在帕维亚生病的时机，在米兰的圣哥达多教堂杀死了乔万尼·马利亚。同一天，奄奄一息的法西诺让其部下宣誓效忠继任者菲利波·马利亚，他自己要求他的妻子在他死后嫁给菲利波·马利亚，他妻子比阿特丽丝·第·丹达听从了他的劝告。在文章的后面我们要讲到菲利波·马利亚。

在这样的时期，柯拉·第·利恩奇梦想在腐朽的罗马居民摇摇晃晃的热情上建设一个即将危及整个意大利的新国家。他和我们已描述过的那些统治者相比，好像不过是个可怜的自欺欺人的傻瓜而已。

第二章　十五世纪的暴君专制

十五世纪的暴君专制国家的特点已有所改变。许多不太重要的暴君和一些较大的暴君，像斯卡拉和卡拉拉，都已灭亡；而靠征服别国变得更加强大的暴君们已使他们的制度得到各具特色的发展。例如，那不勒斯从新的阿拉戈纳王朝获得了一种新的更强大的推动力。这一新时代的显著特征是许多雇佣兵队长企图建立他们自己的独立王朝。人们不再考虑传统的评价，而只注重事实和事情之间的真实关系；才能和冒险是人人追求的目标。小国的暴君们，为了得到可信赖的靠山，开始服务于较大的国家，他们自己成了雇佣兵队长，作为效劳的回报，他们从这些大国领取金钱并且如果他们有不端行为，只要不是扩张本国领土，可以免受惩罚。所有暴君，无论大小，必须更加努力，其行为必须更加谨慎和深思，必须学会抑制住实施大规模暴行的冲动；舆论只容许为了实现大家期待的目标而必然会犯的错误，公正的旁观者当然不挑剔这种错误。在这里，看不到任何支持西方合法君主的那种半宗教式的忠诚的痕迹；我们所能发现的最接近这种忠诚的，是个人的受欢迎。才能和算计是前进道路上唯一的手段。像大胆查理那样，在狂热追求不切实际的目标中耗尽心力的性格，意大利人难于理解。“瑞士人只是些农民，如果全部被杀死，对有可能阵亡的勃艮第贵族们也不能补偿。如果勃艮第大公不战而拥有整个瑞士，他的收入也不会多加五千金币。查理性格中的中世纪特点、他身上所具有的骑士精神的抱负和理想，长期以来让意大利人难以理解。当南方的外交官们看到他殴打军官后，却还让他们继续服役；当他因军队打败仗而施以惩罚，以此虐待他们，而又在这些军人面前责备他的顾问官时，他们认为这个人已无任何希望。而路易十一，尽管其政策胜过意大利各君主按自己的方式所制定的政策，并且公开宣称自己是弗兰切斯科·斯福查的崇拜者，但在文化和优雅诸方面，人们认为他与这些统治者还相差甚远。

十五世纪的意大利诸国中，美德与邪恶令人奇怪地并存。统治者的个性发展很充分，其个性往往又具有非常深刻的意义，并且极具那一时代社会状况和需求的特点，因此要对它作一恰当的道德判断并不是一件容易的事情。

这种暴君专制制度的基础过去是，现在也仍然是不合法的，并且没有什么能消除它身上的魔咒。皇帝的批准或者授权对此并无任何改变，因为暴君从国外某处或从过境的陌生人手中购买羊皮纸授权书这件事，人民对此并不以为然。要是皇帝对于任何事情都处理得当的话——依毫无判断力的常识的逻辑这样推论——他就根本不会让暴君兴起。自查理四世的罗马远征起，皇帝们在意大利除了批准那些不依靠他们帮助而兴起的暴君政权外，没有做任何事情；他们给予暴君专制的实际权威，除来自皇帝诏书之外，无其他任何方式。查理在意大利的整个行为是一场充满丑闻的政治喜剧。马提奥·维兰尼讲到维斯康提家族怎样陪查理游览他们的领地并且最后护送他出境，途中查理怎样为了得到钱，像小贩一样叫卖他的货物（特权等等）；他在罗马的形象是多么庸俗小气，以及怎样在最后，甚至剑都没出鞘，就带着金银宝箱越过阿尔卑斯山满载而归。西吉斯蒙多来了，至少在第一次（1414年），怀着劝说教皇约翰二十三世参加他的议会的美好愿望。就在旅途中，当教皇和皇帝从克雷莫纳的高塔上眺望伦巴第的景色时，他们的东道主，暴君加比诺·丰多洛满心想的是把两人推下高塔。第二次，西吉斯蒙多只是作为一个冒险家来到意大利，半年多的时间里，他都像不敢出门的欠债者一样在锡耶纳闭门不出；克服重重困难，后来才在罗马成功加冕。那么想一想弗雷德里克三世，又是什么情况呢？正是那些想让他确认其特权或者为了满足其招待过皇帝的虚荣心的那些人，使他的意大利之行充满了假期旅行或短途游乐的气氛。后者就像那不勒斯的阿尔方索，他为了皇帝访问的光荣而付出十五万弗罗林。在费拉拉，当弗雷德里克第二次从罗马归来时（1469年），一整天没离开他的房间，颁发了不少于八十个头衔，他授封了骑士、伯爵、博士、公证人——伯爵，实际上分有不同等级，例如，有宫廷伯爵，还有有权授封至多五个博士的伯爵，以及有权予以私生子合法地位和任命公证人的伯爵，等等。作为回报，这位颁发头衔的人期望从这些封赠中得到获取报酬的特权，而这在费拉拉被认为是过多了。当博尔索的皇室庇护人给所有小朝廷颁发头衔和委任状时，他也被册封为摩德纳和勒佐公爵；作为回报，他每年需缴纳四千金弗罗林，博尔索对此事的想法，并未提及。人文主义者，也就是那个时代的主要发言人，根据个人的利益，对于此事的看法有所分歧，而其中几人以罗马皇室的诗人们常用的歌颂向皇帝表示致敬。波吉奥坦称，他不再知道加冕典礼有什么意义；在古时候，只有凯旋的大将军才被加冕，那时他被用桂冠加冕。

马克西米利安一世即位后，不仅开始了外国的普遍干涉，而且开始实施针对意大利的新的帝国政策。第一步——授封洛多维科·摩罗为米兰大公和除掉他的不幸的侄子——就不是一个有好结果的措施。按照现代的干涉理论，当两方正在争斗瓜分一个国家时，就可能有第三方插手进来并获取自己的那份利益。罗马帝国就是按照这个原则来采取行动的，但人们却不再诉诸公理和正义。当人们期待路易十二到热那亚时（1502年），帝国之鹰从公爵宫殿的大殿上被除掉而代之以彩绘的百合花。历史学家纳雷加问及侥幸逃过那么多变乱而留下来的鹰究竟有什么意义、帝国对于热那亚提出什么要求时，除了“热那亚是帝国的账房”这句老生常谈外，没人有更多的了解。最后，当查理五世把西班牙和帝国合并起来时，他能够凭借西班牙的军事力量提出帝国的要求，但臭名昭著的是他由此所得并非给帝国，而是给西班牙君主国带来了利益。

与十五世纪各个朝代政治上的非婚生身份有密切关系的是民众对于合法婚生身份的不在乎态度，这一点对于外国人——例如，科米斯——似乎非常奇怪。这二者自然并行不悖。在北方国家，像在勃艮第，私生子的后代依靠独特的附属封地为生，如主教管区之类；在葡萄牙，非婚生世系只能通过不断的努力在王位上延续下去；在意大利，情况相反，已没有即使在直系后代中也不容许私生子存在的王室家族。那不勒斯的阿拉戈纳世系的君主们属于非婚生世系，阿拉戈纳王国本身传给了阿尔方索一世的兄弟。也许乌尔比诺的伟大的弗雷德里克根本就不是蒙特费尔特罗家族的后裔。当教皇庇护二世在去曼图亚会议（1459年）的路上时，伊斯特王室家族的八个私生子在费拉拉骑马去迎接他，其中有在位的博尔索大公本人和他的非婚生兄弟、前任大公利奥纳洛的两个私生子。利奥纳洛也曾经有一个妻子，是那不勒斯的阿尔方索一世和一个非洲女人的私生女。当婚生子女年幼而同时国内局势处于生死存亡之际，私生子往往被允许继承王位；年长者的统治开始被承认，而不再考虑其出身的纯正与否。个人的健康、价值和能力比在西方其他地方盛行的所有法律和惯例都更重要。确实，那正是教皇的儿子们正在建立王朝的时代。十六世纪，由于国外的思想和当时开始的反宗教改革运动的影响，整个问题才得以更严格地判断。瓦尔奇发现：婚生子对于王位的继承是“理智所赋予的，并且是上帝的旨意”。红衣主教伊波利托·得·美第奇基于他也许是一个合法婚姻所生的后代，并且无论如何是一个淑女的儿子，而不像阿利桑德罗大公是一个女佣的儿子这个事实，提出佛罗伦萨君主权要求。这时开始了在十五世纪，无论在政治的或道德的基础上都是毫无意义的上层社会男子与下层社会女子的恋爱婚姻。

但是十五世纪最高的和最受人仰慕的非婚生形式由雇佣兵队长体现出来，他无论是什么出身，自己已升到了独立的统治者的地位。说到底，诺曼人在十一世纪占领南意大利就属于这一性质。那时这种企图开始使这个半岛处于不断的动荡中。

一个雇佣兵队长在他的雇主由于缺乏金钱或者军队而以此方式为他提供生计时，即使不经过夺权，也有可能获得一个地方的君主身份。雇佣兵队长，无论在何种情况下，即使暂时解散了他的大部分军队，也需要一个能够建立冬营并储藏军需物品的安全地方，第一个获得这样的君主身份的队长是约翰·霍克伍德，他被教皇格雷戈里十一封为巴尼亚那卡瓦洛和科蒂尼约拉地方的君主。当意大利的军队和统治者们与阿伯利哥·达·巴比亚诺的共同势力开始强大时，就有了更多建立一个公国或者扩张一个已建立公国的机会。第一次血腥的重大军事暴乱发生在吉安加利佐死后（1402年）的米兰公国。他的两个儿子所施行政策的目的，主要是消灭雇佣兵队长们所建立的新暴君专制政权；从这些雇佣兵队长中最大的法西诺那里，维斯康提家族继承了很多城市和四十万金弗罗林，以及法西诺的寡妇，不用说还有比阿特丽斯·第·丹达所带来的除她之外的她前夫的士兵。从那时起，十五世纪所特有的、政府和它们的雇佣兵队长之间的完全不道德的关系变得越来越普遍。一个虚虚实实、影影绰绰的老故事对此有如下描述：某城市（好像指的是锡耶纳）的人们曾有一个为他们服务的军官，这名军官曾从外国的侵略中解放了他们，每天这些人都在商议怎样回报他，商议的结果是，他们的力量太微弱，即使选他做那个城市的君主，也不足以酬报他的恩德。最后，其中一人站起来说：“让我们杀了他，然后把他当作我们的庇护圣徒来崇拜吧！”然后他们这样做了，仿照罗马元老院处置罗慕路斯的先例。事实上，雇佣兵队长们有理由最畏惧他们的主人。如果他们打了胜仗，他们就成了危险人物，就像罗伯托·马拉泰斯达，为教皇西克塔斯四世打了胜仗后就被处死（1482年）；如果他们打了败仗，威尼斯人对卡马尼约拉的报复给他们显示了他们会有什么样的危险（1432年）。这种处境道德上的特点是，雇佣兵队长常常不得不把他们的妻子儿女当人质，尽管如此，他们不仅自己不放心，别人对他们也不放心。他们必须一直是克制私欲的英雄，本性像贝利撒留将军那样，不为仇恨和怨毒所腐蚀；只有最完美的优秀品质才能拯救他们免于罪大恶极。那么我们如果发现他们对一切神圣的事物充满蔑视，对他们的同胞——那些不关心自己是否会死于教会禁令的人——残忍而奸诈，就不会感到奇怪了。与此同时，迫于这种形势，他们中许多人的天才和能力获得了能想象到的最高度发展，并为他们赢得了部下的景仰和献身。他们的军队是现代历史上第一支以统帅的人格魅力为唯一动力的军队。弗兰切斯科·斯福查的一生就是一个光辉的典范；对他出身的任何偏见都不能阻止他必要时从他所打交道的每一个人那里赢得无限忠诚并加以利用；不止一次，他的敌人一看到他，就放下了武器，恭敬地脱帽向他致意，每人都尊敬他为“所有军人共同的父亲”。斯福查家族有这种特别的，从它家族历史一开始，我们似乎就能追溯到的努力追求王冠的兴趣。这个家族的幸运基于家庭中惊人的人丁兴旺。弗兰切斯科的父亲亚科波本人就是一个名人，他有二十个兄弟姊妹，都在法恩扎附近的科蒂尼约拉没经过多少管教地被抚养长大，在他们成长过程中，一直处于自己家族和帕索利尼家族之间在罗马尼约尔的无尽的族间仇杀的危险之中。全家人的住处只不过是一个军火库和堡垒，母亲和女儿们都像家中男子一样地尚武好战。亚科波十三岁时，离家逃到班尼加尔的教皇雇佣兵队长博尔德利诺那里——此人甚至死后还在继续领导他的军队，命令从停放着涂有香膏的遗体的营帐中发出，直至最后找到了合适的统帅来接替他。当亚科波在为不同的雇佣兵队长服务中最终使自己变得实力强大时，他派人把他的亲属找到一起，并从他们那里获得了如同一个君主从人口众多的王国那里所得到的同样的好处。当他被俘在那不勒斯的乌奥沃城堡里做阶下囚时，是他的亲属保住了军队免于解散。他妹妹亲手拘捕王室使者，并把他们关进监狱，以这种报复手段拯救了他的生命。亚科波在金钱问题上绝对值得信赖这件事，表明他做事深谋远虑；甚至在他打了败仗的时候，他都能从银行家那里得到钱。他经常保护农民免遭军队的骚扰，并且情非得已才摧毁或破坏一个被占领的城市。他为了免除与王室姻亲联盟关系的束缚，让他众所周知的情妇，即弗兰切斯科的母亲露西亚嫁给了别人。即使他亲属的婚姻也都是按照一定的计划来安排的。他远离同时代人的邪恶放纵的生活，并抚养儿子弗兰切斯科，遵从三条诫律：“不要染指别人的妻子；不要殴打你的追随者，或者如果你打了他，就把受伤的人发配远方；不要骑难咬马嚼子的马或脱落了蹄铁的马。”但他的影响力主要源自他即使不是一个伟大的将军，至少也是一个伟大的军人所具有的品质。他的体格孔武有力，并且通过各种锻炼得到增强；他那一张农民的面孔和坦率直白的性格赢得大众的欢迎；他的记忆力惊人，经过多年之后仍能记起部下的姓名、他们马匹的数目和他们薪俸的数目。他所受的教育纯粹是意大利式的：他利用闲暇时间研读历史，并命人翻译了许多希腊语和拉丁语作品以供参考。弗兰切斯科，他那比他还著名的儿子，从一开始就决心建立一个强大的国家，并且通过其卓越的统率才能和对任何事都毫不犹豫的奸诈作风，拥有了米兰这座伟大的城市（1447—1450年）。

他的榜样具有感染力量。伊尼亚斯·希尔维优斯对于这一时期曾写道：“在我们这热爱变革的意大利，在这个没有任何事情是一成不变的地方，在这个古代的王朝已不存在的地方，一个佣人轻易地就能变成国王。”有一个特别的标榜自己是“幸运之人”的人，让全国人们充满了想象：他是尼科洛的儿子亚科波·皮奇尼诺。他是否也能成功建立一个王室，这是一个当时激起激烈争论的问题。较大的国家明显要阻止它，甚至弗兰切斯科·斯福查也认为那张自我封君的名单最好不要再扩大了。但是在当时，例如，亚科波·皮奇尼诺想要做锡耶纳的君主时，那些被派去攻打他的兵士和队长们却意识到拥护他对他们自己有利：“要是他完蛋了，我们就不得不回家去种地。”甚至把他围困在奥贝泰罗期间，他们还给他给养；并且他体面地脱离了困境。但是最终命运突袭了他。在他（1465年）访问了米兰的斯福查去那不勒斯的费兰特国王那里的时候，全意大利都在就他此行的结果打赌。尽管他得到过保证，尽管他和权贵有联系，他还是在乌奥沃城堡里被人谋杀了。连通过继承而获得领地的雇佣兵队长也从来没有感到他们自己是安全的。当罗伯托·马拉泰斯达和乌尔比诺的菲德利哥，一个在罗马，另一个在波洛尼亚，在同一天去世的时候（1482年），人们发现他们曾建议把自己的国家交给对方来治理。为反对胆大妄为之人所做的任何事都被认为是允许的。弗兰切斯科·斯福查年轻时娶了一个富有的卡拉布里亚女继承人波丽森娜·露莎，即蒙达多女伯爵，生下一个女儿；而她的姑母却毒死了母女二人，从而攫取了继承权。

自皮奇尼诺死后，由雇佣兵队长建立新国家的所作所为成了一件令人不能容忍的丑事。四个伟大的政权，那不勒斯、米兰、教皇政权和威尼斯，在它们之间形成了一种不容许有任何扰乱的政治均衡。在教皇的属邦里，蜂拥着许多小暴君。其中部分是，或者曾经是雇佣兵队长，自教皇西克塔斯四世的时代以来，历任教皇的侄子们独占了所有这些暴君所承担事务的权利。但是一有政治危机的苗头，这些做过雇佣兵队长的军人们就又出现在现场。在教皇英诺森八世的邪恶治理下，有一个从前曾在勃艮第军队中服役的叫博卡利诺的人，几乎要把自己及其统治下的奥西莫镇献给了土耳其军队；幸运的是，由于庄严之人洛伦佐的干涉，他愿意拿到一笔钱后离去。在1495年，当查理八世的战争把意大利搞得天翻地覆时，布雷西亚的雇佣兵队长维多韦罗试了试自己的实力：他已经夺取了切泽纳市镇并屠杀了很多贵族和自由民；但却没攻下城堡而被迫撤退。然后他率领着另外一个恶棍——已经谈到过的罗伯托的儿子、威尼斯的雇佣兵队长、里米尼的潘多福·马拉泰斯达——借给他的一队人马，从拉文纳的大主教那里强夺了乌奥沃城堡。威尼斯人，恐怕情况变得更糟糕，也是受教皇的催促，命令潘多福，“怀有最善良的意愿”利用一个机会逮捕了他的好朋友维多韦罗：尽管逮捕是“怀着深深的遗憾”进行的，但接着传来了把他送到绞刑架上的命令。潘多福体贴地在监狱里先勒死了他，然后把尸体给人们看。这种篡位者的最后一个引人注目的例子是著名的慕索的卡斯特兰，他在帕维亚之战（1525年）后的米兰领地的混乱中，在科莫湖畔临时拥有了统治权。

第三章　小专制国家

关于十五世纪的暴君专制，一般可以说，最大的罪恶常常发生在最小的国家。在这些家族人口众多、并且所有成员都希望以适合他们身份的方式生活的小国家里，有关继承权的争端不可避免。加米里诺的伯尔那多·瓦拉诺处死了他的两个弟兄（1434年），想要把他们的财产分给他自己的儿子们。如果某一个城镇的统治者以英明、温和和仁慈的政治以及对知识文化的热情而著称，一般情况下，他要么是某个大家族的一员，要么在政治上依靠那个大家族。例如，阿利桑德罗·斯福查（死于1473年）就是这样的情况。他是佩扎罗的君主，伟大的弗兰切斯科的兄弟，乌尔比诺的菲德利哥的继父。由于管理上谨慎、治理措施公正仁慈，所以经过数年战乱以后，他享有安定的统治，建立了宏伟的图书馆，并在知识或宗教问题的交谈中消磨闲暇时光。属于同样情况的另一个人是乔万尼二世，波洛尼亚的本蒂伏利奥（1462—1506年），他的政策取决于伊斯特和斯福查两个家族的政策。另一方面，在加米里诺的瓦拉诺家族、里米尼的马拉泰斯达家族、法恩扎的曼弗雷家族中间，尤其是在佩鲁贾的巴利奥家族中间，却让人看到了多么残忍和血腥的暴行。我们在格拉齐亚诺和马达拉佐令人赞美的历史记载中，看到上述最后一个家族在十五世纪末所做事件的惊人写照。

巴利奥家族是那些从未采取公开宣称的暴君专制形式的家族之一。它倒是通过其巨大财富和对挑选官员的实际影响来行使领导权。在家族内部，有一个人被承认为首领，但在不同族系的成员中间却深藏着嫉妒。在巴利奥家族的对立面，是由奥地家族领导的另一个贵族党派。1487年，佩鲁贾城变成了军营，豪门望族的家里挤满了亡命之徒，暴乱事件每天都在发生。在一个死于暗杀的德意志学生的葬礼上，两所大学的学生拿起武器兵戎相见；有时住在不同家里的亡命之徒甚至在广场上打起来。商人和工人抱怨也没用；罗马教皇派来的治理者和“亲族”或保持缄默，或一遇到机会就离去。最终奥地家族被迫放弃了佩鲁贾，而这个城市在巴利奥家族——他们甚至把大教堂当兵营——的绝对专制统治下变成了一个被围困的要塞。密谋和偷袭遭到灭绝人性的报复；1491年，在处死了一百三十名冲入城内的叛乱者并陈尸于市政厅前之后，他们在广场上建起了三十五个祭坛，一连三天举行弥撒和宗教游行，以消除施于此地的魔咒。教皇英诺森八世的一个侄子于光天化日之下在街上被刺杀；被派来此地平息事端的亚历山大六世的一个侄子，由于民众的公然蔑视而被斥退。在这一时期，这个统治家族的两个首领，圭多和利都弗，正在和一个拥有圣徒之名和超自然能力的多密尼克会修女里埃蒂的科伦芭频繁会晤。她命令他们和解，否则会遭到大灾祸的惩罚——这自然是徒劳的。尽管如此，在编年史中却也给在这个恐怖的统治时期佩鲁贾城中一些较好人士的奉献精神和虔诚行为留下一席之地。当1494年查理八世兵临城下时，佩鲁贾的巴利奥家族和在阿西西城内及其附近宿营的流亡者进行了非常残酷的战争，以致山谷中的的每一间房子都被夷为平地。田地无人耕种，农民变成杀人越货的野人，新长起来的灌木丛中都是牡鹿和狼群，这些野兽靠吃死去的战士尸体——所谓“基督徒肉”而膘肥体壮。当教皇亚历山大六世在查理八世面前撤退（1495年）到翁布里亚的时候，后者当时刚从那不勒斯归来，在佩鲁贾，他发现现在他可以一劳永逸地把巴利奥家族除掉。他向圭多提议举行一个庆典或一个比赛，或者其他类似的集会，这样可以把整个家族聚在一起。然而，圭多却持有这一观点，即“最感人的壮观场面将是看到集合到一起的佩鲁贾的全部武装力量”，因此教皇放弃了他的计划。不久，流亡者们进行了第二次袭击，并且只靠巴利奥家族的个人英勇行为就打败了他们，取得了胜利。就在当时，西蒙那多·巴利奥，一个刚满十八岁的小伙子，带着几个部下在广场上和数百敌人作战：最后他身上带着二十多处伤倒下了；但当阿斯多利·巴利奥来增援时，他再次站起，身穿镀金盔甲，头戴饰有猎鹰的头盔，跨上战马，“忍耐力和行为俨如战神，投身于战斗中”。

此时，拉斐尔，一个十二岁的孩子，正在彼埃特罗·佩路基诺门下求学。这些日子的印象也许通过他早期的圣米凯尔和圣乔治这些小画而永留人世：可能是这些印象中的某些东西永远留存在他的圣米凯尔的大型画幅中：如果说阿斯多利·巴利奥在某处被尊封为神的形象，那就是在拉斐尔的壁画——赫利奥多路斯——里边的天廷骑马勇士的形象。

巴利奥家族的敌对者在恐怖时期一部分被消灭，一部分逃散，因此没有能力再进行这种冒险行为。过了一段时间，达成了部分和解，一些流亡者被准许回来。但佩鲁贾并未变得更安全或更稳定：统治家族的内部倾轧以可怕的暴行而爆发。两个圭多和利都弗的侄孙，格里丰和卡洛·巴奇格利亚——后者是加米里诺君主瓦拉诺的侄子并且也是以前的一个流亡者耶罗尼莫·德拉·潘那的姐夫——组成反对派，对抗圭多和利都弗以及他们的儿子们吉安保罗、西蒙那多、阿斯多利、吉斯蒙多、贞提尔、马堪托尼奥，等等。西蒙那多为预感到一种不祥，跪请他的叔父准许他把潘那杀死，但他此举徒劳：圭多拒绝了。阴谋突然在1500年仲夏，趁阿斯多利和拉维尼亚·柯伦纳结婚这个时机得逞了。结婚庆典开始并且在阴郁的预示中持续了几天，马达拉佐极好地描写了这些预示的越来越深的影响。瓦拉诺用可诅咒的机智酝酿并促进了阴谋的形成：他以独掌大权的前景和捏造格里丰的妻子珍诺比娅与吉安保罗私通的故事来做格里丰的工作。最后，两个叛乱者每人都选定了自己的袭击目标。（巴利奥家族所有人都各自住在自己的房子里，大部分都在现在的城堡旧址上。）他俩每人带领十五名刺客；其余的人则被派去放哨。在7月15日夜间，他们破门而入，谋杀了圭多、阿斯多利、西蒙那多和吉斯蒙多；其余的人逃掉了。

当阿斯多利的尸体在街市上被陈列在西蒙那多的尸体旁边时，围观者们，“尤其是外国学生”，把他比作古代的罗马人——他看起来是如此高大、仪表堂堂。在西蒙那多的面容上仍能看出就是死神也不能驯服的冒险和挑战的精神。胜利者们到处去走访这个家族的朋友们，并竭尽全力把自己推荐给他们；但他们发现所有的人都在流泪并且准备搬往乡间去。同时，逃跑的巴利奥家族聚集起失去城市的兵力，第二天由吉安保罗率领攻入城内，并迅速在巴奇格利亚以死相威胁的人中找到了追随者。当格里丰在圣艾科罗诺教堂附近落入他们手中的时候，吉安保罗把他交给了他的部下去处死。巴奇格利亚和潘那逃去投奔在加米里诺的瓦拉诺，他是这场悲剧的主要作者；顷刻之间，几乎没有遭受任何损失，吉安保罗成了这座城市的主人。

阿塔兰达，格里丰的依然年轻貌美的母亲，前一天刚刚和格里丰的妻子珍诺比娅还有吉安保罗的两个孩子撤退到乡下的住宅，她曾不止一次以母亲的咒骂斥责儿子，现在她和儿媳回到城里来找寻那奄奄一息的人。当这两个女人走近的时候，所有的人躲在一边，每个人都不敢向前，害怕被认出是杀害格里丰的凶手，受到这位母亲的诅咒。但是他们想错了：她自己恳求儿子宽恕那个致他于死地的人，然后儿子带着母亲的祝福死去。人们恭敬地目送这两个穿着有血污的衣裙的女人走过广场。拉斐尔后来画的闻名世界的《耶稣圣尸降架》就是为阿塔兰达所作的，画中她把自己母亲的悲痛敬献在一个更崇高、更神圣的苦难的脚下。

与悲剧发生地相毗邻的大教堂，被酒冲洗过，重新变成圣地。为婚礼而建的凯旋门依然矗立着，上面绘有阿斯多利的事迹和诗人马达拉佐对其颂扬的诗句。

讲述这些暴行的一种传说从巴利奥家族的早期就开始出现。据说，这个家族的所有成员从一开始就不祥地死去——一次就死了二十七人；有人说他们的房子从前曾被夷为平地，并且佩鲁贾的街道就是用这些砖铺筑的——还有更多这一类的说法。在教皇保罗三世统治下，他们的宫殿真的毁灭了。

曾有一个时期，他们似乎已形成好的决议，似乎已整顿好自己的党派，并已经保护官吏们不受贵族阶层的专横行为的欺压。但过去的诅咒像郁积的怒火一样再次显示了威力。1520年，吉安保罗被诱惑去了教皇列奥十世统治下的罗马，在那里被砍头。他的一个儿子，欧拉齐奥，只在佩鲁贾统治了很短一个时期，并且作为乌尔比诺大公（大公本人也受到了教皇的威胁）的死党，又一次在自己的家族中用最暴力的手段重复了过去的恐怖。他谋杀了他的叔父和三个堂兄弟，以致大公派人告诉他做得过火了。他的兄弟，马拉泰斯达·巴利奥，佛罗伦萨的将军，因1530年的投敌叛国事件而名载史册。马拉泰斯达的儿子利都弗，这个家族的最后一代，通过1534年谋杀教皇使节和官吏而获得了短暂但血腥的统治时期。

我们到处都会遇到里米尼的统治者们的名字。像西吉斯蒙多·马拉泰斯达（死于1467年）一样，一个既肆无忌惮、不敬神灵，又具有军事才能和高度文化的人，是很少见的。但这样一个家族积聚的罪恶最后必将超过才能，不管有多大的才能，都会被这个暴君拖入无底深渊。上面所提到过的西吉斯蒙多的侄子潘多福，成功地保住了自己的地位，原因只有一个，即不管雇佣兵队长被控犯有什么样的罪行，威尼斯人拒绝放弃他；当他的臣民被深深激怒后炮轰他在里米尼的城堡（1497年），后又让他逃掉的时候，尽管他因杀害弟兄和其他暴行而罪行累累，一个威尼斯的长官还是把他带了回来。三十年后，马拉泰斯达家族成了不名一文的流亡者。1527年，像在凯撒·波几亚的时代那样，一种瘟疫降临到这些小暴君身上；他们没有几个人活下来，而且没人有好下场。在皮科家族弱小的君主统治下的米朗多拉，1533年，有一个穷学者利略·格雷戈里·吉拉尔第从罗马逃难到了著名的乔万尼的侄子，年迈好客的乔万尼·弗兰切斯科·皮科家里；在关于这个君主正在为自己建立的墓碑的讨论结束后，他写了一篇碑文，这篇碑文题献的日期是这一年的四月。碑文的后记语气沉痛——“今年十月，不幸的君主在夜间遭到侄儿的袭击，并被夺取了生命和王位；而我侥幸脱险，此刻正处在痛苦的深渊中。”

像潘多福·佩特路奇从1490年起在锡耶纳所实行，后来由于派系斗争而分裂的那种没有典型特征的伪暴君专制几乎不值得密切关注。他弱小而恶毒，在一个法学教授和占星术家的帮助下进行统治，不时进行谋杀以恐吓臣民。他夏日的消遣是从阿绵达的山顶向下滚大石块，从不在乎砸到什么东西或什么人。他虽然成功逃脱了凯撒波几亚所设的陷阱；但在死时，仍旧被人唾弃鄙视。他的儿子们在此后许多年内维持着一个合格胜任的统治权。

第四章　大王朝

论及意大利的主要王朝，因阿拉戈纳王朝本身的特点，把它与其他王朝分开讨论较为方便。始于诺曼人时期、以贵族为地方最高权力的形式而延续下来的封建制度，给那不勒斯的政治制度以一种鲜明的色彩；而意大利的其他地方，除了只是教皇领地的南部地区和少数其他地区外，都实行土地的直接使用权，并且法律明令禁止继承权。从1435年以来在那不勒斯统治的大阿尔方索（死于1458年），与他真正或假称的后人不同。他一生辉煌，不怕和人民密切来往，与人交往时态度高贵和蔼，即使在年老时与露克瑞佳·德·阿莱尼亚的恋爱，也是让人称羡而非受人谴责；但是，他奢靡浪费的坏品质，自然会给他带来恶果。肆无忌惮的财政官们在宫中长期握有无限权力，直到破产的国王掠夺了他们的赃款；鼓吹进行宗教改革运动借以向教士们征税；当阿布鲁齐发生大地震时，幸存者被迫赔付死者的税款。通过这些手段，阿尔方索能够以无与伦比的豪华排场来款待显贵的客人；他在无休止的花费中得到快乐，即使让他的敌人受益，并且在文学作品的奖励方面，根本没有任何分寸。波吉奥为翻译色诺芬的《希腊远征波斯记》而得到了五百枚金币。

继承他王位的费兰特，是他和一个西班牙女人所生的私生子，但也很可能是瓦伦西亚混血的摩尔人的儿子。不管是他的血统，还是贵族们所设计的谋害他的阴谋使他的性格变得恶毒阴险，他的残酷暴行在同时代的君主中无人能敌。他积极活跃、不知疲倦，被认为是当时最有势力的政治人物之一。没有荒淫挥霍的恶癖，他集中全部力量——其中包括深藏不露和一种势不两立的复仇精神——消灭他的反对者。他受到了全面攻击，因为那些贵族首领们虽然和他有姻亲关系，但也是他的外国敌人的同盟者。采取极端措施成了他日常政策的一部分。他与贵族进行斗争以及聚敛对外战争所需财力的方式，与弗雷德里克二世所引入的伊斯兰教国的方式相同：政府专营油和谷类粮食；国家的整个商业由费兰特交由富商弗兰切斯科·科伯拉掌管；科伯拉控制全部海岸的停泊税，并和国王分享利润。财政亏空由强制的贷款、处死刑后没收的财产、公开买卖圣职和向教会团体征收的捐献来弥补。除了不顾所有财产权而进行的狩猎以外，费兰特还有两种乐趣：他喜欢让反对者在他近旁，活着时被关在警卫森严的监狱里；死后尸体涂上香膏防腐，并身穿死者生前所穿的服装。和朋友们谈到这些俘虏时，他常常开心地笑，并且对于他的木乃伊博物馆的任何事毫不隐瞒。他的受害者大多是由于他的背信弃义而落入虎口的人，有些甚至是在御宴上做客时被拘捕的。他对待首相——安多尼洛·佩特路奇——简直是魔鬼的行为。佩特路奇在任时已变得衰老多病，因为日益惧怕死亡而被他不断地勒索“礼物”。最后，因怀疑他参与贵族们最近一次的阴谋，使他找到了逮捕佩特路奇并处以死刑的借口；和他一起死去的有科伯拉。加拉奇奥罗和波吉奥关于所有这一切的叙述方式使人毛骨悚然。

国王的长子，卡拉布里亚大公阿尔方索，在父亲晚年时和他共同执政。他是一个野蛮残暴的浪子，只在坦率这一点上胜过费兰特，他公开宣称对宗教及其习俗的蔑视。意大利专制政权较好和较高贵的特征在这一世系的君主中不会被发现；他们对于他们那个时代的艺术和文化所拥有的一切只是为了奢侈和炫耀。即使真正的西班牙人也几乎总是在意大利堕落；但是这个杂种王室（1494年和1503年）的终结清楚证明它缺乏纯正的血统。费兰特死于精神疾患；阿尔方索以叛国罪指控他的兄弟菲德利哥——这个家族中唯一诚实的人——并以最卑劣的方式侮辱他。尽管阿尔方索到此为止被认为是意大利最有才干的将军之一，但最终他逃到西西里并丢了脑袋；他留下的儿子小费兰特成了法国人和国内叛国者的猎物。像这样的王朝，如果它的子孙想要恢复大业，至少必须和敌人进行殊死的战斗。不过，如科米斯在这件事上所说的——这说法虽然片面但大体正确，“残暴的人从来不会是勇敢的”：没有更残忍的人了。

米兰大公们的专制政治——其统治从吉安加利佐时代以来就是一种最彻底的君主专制制度——显示出15世纪真正的意大利特征。维斯康提家族的最后一个统治者菲利波·马利亚（1412—1447）是一个有着奇特兴趣的人物，幸而给我们留下了一些关于他这种兴趣的描述。一个具有非凡才能和崇高地位的人能因极度恐惧变成什么样子，在这里用可称作数学上的完整性显现出来。国家的全部资源只为一个目的，即确保他的个人安全；而幸运的是，他冷酷的利己主义没有使他堕落到无目的地嗜血杀人的地步。他住在米兰的城堡内，周围环绕着壮丽的花园、凉亭和草坪。数年以来，他从没去过城内，只在乡间短途旅行，那里有他几座富丽堂皇的城堡；由最快的骏马牵引着的舰队可以沿着专门开凿的河道将他带到各城堡中，整个行程安排得极为严格。不管谁进入城堡都会受到无数眼睛的监视；甚至站在窗前也被禁止，以免向城堡外的人发送信号。所有被允许做君王私人侍从的人都受到一系列最严格的检查；随后，一经录用，就被委以最高的外交事务和最谦卑的贴身差役——这两者在宫中都很光荣。这个人进行了长期的艰苦战争，习惯处理头等重要的政治事务，每天都派全权大臣到意大利各地去。他的安全在于，他的臣下不相信其他任何人，他的雇佣兵队长被间谍监视和欺骗，他的大使和高级官员由于人为培养起来的妒忌，特别是由于把诚实之人和恶棍安排在一起的做法而心有隔阂、不团结。他内心的信念也是建立在对立和矛盾的体系上；他相信盲目的必然性，相信星宿的影响，并且同时向各种各样的救星祈祷；他喜欢研读古代作家的作品和法国骑士小说。但也是这同一个人，他不准当他面提及死亡，让人将垂死的宠臣送出城堡，免得死亡的阴影落到他幸福的居所，他以故意掩盖其伤口，拒绝放血，来加速自己的死亡，最终带着尊严，优雅死去。

他的女婿兼继承者，幸运的雇佣兵队长弗兰切斯科·斯福查（1450—1466），也许是十五世纪所有意大利人中最合他那个时代的人的心意了。天才和个人力量的胜利，从没人能像他那样在自己身上表现得如此闪亮耀眼；那些不愿承认他优点的人至少也不得不为他这个幸运的宠儿而感到惊异。米兰人公开宣称由如此卓越的君主治理是一种光荣；当他进入城内的时候，蜂拥的群众把骑在马上的他推挤到了大教堂里，而没有给他下马的机会。让我们听一听教皇庇护二世——一个在这类事情上的裁判者——对他生平的评价：

1459年，当这位大公来参加在曼图亚举行的代表大会时，已经六十岁了（实际是五十八岁），但骑在马上的他看起来像一个年轻人；他身材伟岸，仪表堂堂，神色凝重，谈话安详亲切，举止俨然王侯，身心秉赋当世无人能敌，战场上无往不胜——这就是那个使自己从卑微的地位升到控制整个帝国的人。他的妻子美丽贤良，子女犹如天使；他很少生病并且几乎他所有的愿望均已实现。但他也并非没有不幸。他妻子出于忌妒杀死了他的情妇；他的老伙伴和老朋友，特劳伊洛和布鲁诺罗，背弃他而投靠阿尔方索国王；另一个旧友奇阿波伦内因为叛国罪被他处以绞刑；他不得不遭受他的兄弟阿利桑德罗引法国人来攻打他的痛苦；他的一个儿子策划阴谋陷害他而被关进监狱；他作战赢得的安科纳玛驰地区，又以同样的方式失去了。没人享有如此圆满的幸运，以致无需在逆境中拼搏。几乎无忧患之人即幸福之人。

给了幸福的消极定义后，这位知识渊博的教皇离开了读者。要是他能看到未来，或者愿意停下来讨论一个没有任何束缚的暴君专制的后果的话，一个无处不在的事实一定不会逃过他的注意——即对于未来的所有保障的缺失。那些子女们尽管美若天使，接受了精致完整的教育，但长大后都堕落成了无可救药的利己主义的牺牲品。只讲究外表的加利佐·马利亚（1466—1476），以自己漂亮的双手，所付出的高薪，享有的财政信用，贮存的二百万金锭，环绕在他身边的卓越人士和所豢养的军队与猎鹰而骄傲。他喜爱自己的声音，当他有机会侮辱一个威尼斯大使时，他会说得很流利。他常常反复无常，曾让人在一夜之间把一个房间绘满了各种图案；尤其恶劣的是，他常常发疯虐待最亲近的朋友。对于一小撮狂热分子来说，他这个暴君太坏，不该再活下去；他们谋杀了他，然后把国家交由他的兄弟们统治，其中一个兄弟，洛德维科·伊·摩洛，把侄子监禁起来，自己掌握了政权。紧随此次篡位而来的是法国的干涉和降落在整个意大利的灾难。

洛德维科·斯福查被称作“伊·摩洛”，摩尔人，是当时暴君的最完美典型；并且作为自然的产物，几乎消除了我们的道德判断。尽管他采用的手段极端不道德，但他却十分巧妙地使用它们；当了解到一个人不仅在选择的目的上，而且在选择的手段上也要在道德上负责时，也许没有人比他更感到震惊的了；他宁愿认为他尽可能避免过于自由地使用死刑作为惩罚是一种非凡的德行。他认为由于他的政治天赋，意大利人对他的无比尊敬只不过是他应得的。1496年，他吹嘘亚力山大教皇是他的宫廷牧师，马克西米利安皇帝是他的雇佣兵队长，威尼斯是他的宫廷管家，法兰西国王是他的信使，这些人必须听从他的吩咐往来。他有着不可思议的理智，甚至在他面临绝境时（1499年），他也权衡了所有可能的逃跑方式，最后为了荣誉，他决定一切听凭人性的善良；他以从前的一次争吵为借口，驳回了他的弟弟阿斯卡尼奥枢机主教想要继续留在米兰城堡的提议：“主教阁下，不要不高兴，但是我不信任你，尽管你是我弟弟”；他委任一个他一直施予恩惠的人来守卫城堡，作为“他回来的保证”，但是那个人还是背叛了他。在国内，这个摩尔人是一个优秀而有用的统治者，并且直到最后，他还依赖他在米兰和科莫的名望。在后来的岁月中（1496年以后），他过度耗费国家的资源，并且在克雷莫纳，完全出于权宜之计，他命令把一个曾讲话反对新税的可敬公民悄悄闷死。从那时起，他把来访者由一个护栏和他本人隔开，以约束听众，因此那些人和他交谈时，不得不以最高嗓门讲话。在他的自勃艮第王朝灭亡以来欧洲最辉煌的宫廷里，极端不道德的事情到处存在；女儿被父亲所卖，妻子被丈夫所卖，姊妹被兄弟所卖。君主本人积极活跃，永不停歇，并且作为一个独创事业的人，他声称和所有像他自己一样靠个人才能而立身的人——学者、诗人、画家和音乐家——有联系。他创立的学院，与其说是为了学者们教学，倒不如说是为了他自己的目的；对于围绕在他身边的那些卓越人士，他所看重的不是他们的名望，而是他们的交往作伴和效劳。确定无疑的是，起初布拉曼特薪资微薄；而列奥那多直到1496年才得到适当的报酬——并且，如果不是他自愿，有什么能够使他留在宫中呢？也许那个时代没有人能像列奥那多一样，世界对他是开放的；如果关于洛德维科·伊·摩洛的天性中有比较高尚的成分缺乏证据，它可以在这位谜一般的大师在他的宫中长期逗留这件事上被发现。列奥那多后来为凯撒·波几亚和弗朗西斯一世效劳，很可能是由于他对这两人非凡和惊人的性格感兴趣。

这个摩尔人倒台后，他的儿子们在陌生的环境中被不正确地抚养长大。他的长子马西米利亚诺没有像他的地方；他的次子弗兰切斯科还尚有一些他的精神。米兰在那些年代里常常更换统治者，并且在更迭的过程中遭受难以述说的痛苦，尽力确保自己不会再次更换。1512年，在马西米利亚诺和西班牙人的武装力量面前撤退的法国人，被劝诱发表了一项声明，称米兰人不曾参与他们的驱逐，并且，由于没犯叛乱罪，他们可以向一个新征服者投降。一个具有重大政治意义的事实是：在这种过渡时刻，这个不幸的城市像阿拉戈纳家族逃走时的那不勒斯一样，很容易成为一群恶棍（常常是高层的贵族）的猎物。

曼图亚的贡查加家族和乌尔比诺的蒙特费尔特罗家族在十五世纪后半期是秩序最好、人才最多的家族之一。贡查加家族是一个还算和谐的家庭，长期以来没有听说他们家出现过谋杀事件，他们家的死者能无所畏惧地展示给世人。弗兰切斯科·贡查加侯爵和他的妻子，伊斯特家的伊莎贝拉，虽有少许不正当行为，却是一对和谐体面的夫妻，并且在他们小而重要的国家不断遭受的危机的时候，他们把儿子们抚养成为成功而卓越的人物。弗兰切斯科，不论是作为政治家或是作为军人，竟会采取一种格外诚实的政策，这是威尼斯皇帝或法兰西国王不可能预料或想要的；但是，自塔罗之战（1495年）以来，就军事上的荣誉而言，他的感觉和表现是一个意大利爱国者，并且把同样的精神传递给了他妻子。每一个忠诚英勇的行为，诸如以保卫法恩扎来抵抗凯撒·波几亚，她都认为是在维护意大利的荣誉。我们对她的评价不需要依靠画家和作家们对她的颂扬，这些人把这位美丽的侯爵夫人描述成她对他们所提供的保护的丰厚回报。她自己的书信向我们显示了她是一个毫不动摇、坚定不移的女士，充满了仁爱幽默的见解。本波、邦德罗、阿里奥斯托和伯尔那多·塔索都把他们的作品送往这个宫廷，即使它弱小且国库空虚。自从过去的乌尔比诺宫廷消亡（1508年）以来，在意大利看不到比贡查加家族的曼图亚宫廷更光耀更有魅力的圈子；并且在某一方面，在活动的自由上，费拉拉宫廷的社交聚会不如曼图亚宫廷。在美术方面，伊莎贝拉有着精准的知识，她的画作少而精，令爱好美术的人看了无不为之动容。

在大菲德利哥（1444—1482年）时代，不管他是不是真正的蒙特费尔特罗家族后裔，乌尔比诺所拥有的是一位君主统治的辉煌代表。作为一个雇佣兵队长，他拥有命运无常的军人们的政治品德，一种不独他们所具有的缺点的品德；作为他的狭小领地的统治者，他采取把国外赚的钱花在国内的计划，并尽可能少地向人民征税。关于他和他的两个继承者圭多巴尔多和弗兰切斯科·马利亚，我们读到如下内容：“他们建造房屋，开垦耕地，在国内居住，并且给许多人提供工作：他们的臣民爱戴他们。”但是不仅仅这个国家，就连这个宫廷也是一件讲究艺术和结构作品。菲德利哥有五百个仆从；宫廷的布置像最伟大的君主国的都城一样齐全，但什么都不浪费；一切都有它的目的，一切都得到细心地关注和控制。在宫廷里没有不道德和浪费的恶习：它的作用是一个为其他大家族的子弟们提供军事教育的学校，这些人文化与教育的完善被大公认为是种荣誉。他所建造的宫殿，即使不属于最宏伟的，也是构思设计完美，具有古典风格的。那里存放着他最伟大的珍宝和著名的藏书。在他的统治下人人有工作有钱赚，没有乞丐；治安非常好，因此他常常出去不带武器，并且几乎不带随从。在他那个时代的君主中，唯有他敢在外面公园里散步，或是一边在无人警戒的房间里简单用餐，一边让人为他朗读李维的著作，或者，在斋戒期间朗读一些祈祷方面的著作。同一天下午，他常常听一个关于某个古典主题的讲座，然后去克拉利兹女修道院，隔着格栅和女修道院院长讨论宗教上的事情。晚上他经常在以壮美景色著称的圣弗兰切斯科教堂的草地上督察宫中青年的军事操练，并且确保所有武艺都在以最完美的方式进行训练。在访问作坊里为他干活的工匠时，在和来访的常客交谈时，他都尽最大努力做到温和亲切，平易近人，并尽可能满足每个人当天所提出的请求。难怪他走在街上时，人们跪倒高呼：“殿下啊，上帝保佑您！”他被思想界的人称为“意大利之光”。他才华横溢的儿子圭多巴尔多体弱多病，遭到各种不幸，但最终（1508年）能把国家交到可靠的侄子弗兰切斯科·马利亚（也是教皇优里乌斯二世的侄子）手中；弗兰切斯科·马利亚至少保全了领土免遭外国人的永久占领。令人惊异的是，圭多巴尔多在凯撒·波几亚面前，弗兰切斯科在教皇列奥十世的大军面前，具有何等的信心才能屈服和逃走。每一个人都知道国家从无用的抵抗中受创越少，恢复就越容易，就越受群众欢迎。当洛德维科在米兰做同样的打算时，他忘记了有许多反对他的怨恨因素。圭多巴尔多的宫廷被巴达萨尔·卡斯蒂利昂描述为优雅举止的最高学府而流芳后世，他曾为了对这个宫廷社会表示敬意而当场朗诵他的牧歌《泰西斯》（1506年），后来（1518年）把他的《廷臣论》中对话的场景安排在多才多艺的伊丽莎·贝塔·贡查加女公爵的社交圈。

伊斯特家族在费拉拉、德纳和勒佐的统治展现出暴行和受人爱戴这种令人好奇的对照。宫中可怕的事情接二连三；一个王后因为被人指称和继子通奸而被砍头（1425年）；婚生子和私生子逃出宫廷，甚至在国外，他们的生命也受到被派去追杀他们的刺客的威胁（1471年）。来自宫廷外部的阴谋持续不断；一个私生子的私生子企图从合法继承者赫克里一世手中抢夺王冠。据说，后者后来（1493年）发现他妻子受她兄弟那不勒斯的费兰特的教唆要毒死他，所以就把她毒死了。这一系列悲剧的终止是由于两个私生子密谋反对他们的兄弟，掌权的阿尔方索大公一世和枢机主教伊波利托（1506年），这个阴谋被及时发现并判处他们终身监禁。这个国家的财政体系是最完善的一种，而这是必然的，因为意大利的大国和中等国家中没有面临如此的危险并不断需要武装力量和防御工事。统治者们希望人民富裕程度能够跟得上捐税的不断增加；尼科洛侯爵（死于1441年）过去常常表达他的这一愿望，即他的臣民也许能比其他国家的人民更富有。如果人口的快速增长是衡量实际已达到的繁荣的一个尺度，那么一个重要的事实是，1497年，尽管首都有了显著扩大，但仍然没有房子出租。费拉拉是欧洲第一个真正现代的城市；根据统治者的命令，新建了许多大型的、建设优良的城区，由于集中了许多官员阶层，并且积极促进商业贸易的发展，这里首次形成了真正的首府；来自意大利各地富有的逃亡者，尤其是佛罗伦萨人，在费拉拉定居下来，建起了自己的豪华住宅。间接的征税让人勉强能够负担。政府确实采取了其他的意大利暴君，如加利佐·马利亚·斯福查，也用过的减轻民众疾苦的措施：荒年从远处运来谷物，好像是无偿分给了民众；但平常的时候，却用垄断补偿损失，如果不是对谷物的垄断，也是对许多其他生活必需品的垄断——如鱼、盐、肉、水果和蔬菜等，蔬菜是在城墙上和附近精心种植的。然而，最大的收入来源是每年对官位的出售——一种整个意大利都很普遍的风气，而在费拉拉的实行情况，我们有更准确的资料。比如1502年新年，大多数官员以“高价”买到了自己的位置；最多类别的公务员、关税官、法警、公证人、市镇长官、法官，甚至战略家，即省城的副职官员都名列其中。作为高价买官位、“比魔鬼更可恨的”、“榨干人民血汗的人”之—蒂托·斯特罗齐——让我们希望他不是那著名的拉丁诗人——被提及。大约每年的同一个时间，公爵们习惯在费拉拉进行巡回的访问，即所谓的“不时的巡视”，在访问期间他们从更富有的公民那里收取礼物。然而，这些礼物不包括现金，而只是天然的产品。

令费拉拉公爵感到自豪的是，全意大利都知道以下事实：在费拉拉，士兵的薪饷和大学教授的薪资都能一天不差地准时领到；士兵们从不敢随意欺压任何一个市民或农民；这个城市不怕任何攻击，坚不可摧；并且城堡中储藏着数量巨大的金币。似乎没有必要设立两套帐目：财政大臣同时也是公爵家务的管理者。由博尔索（1430—1471年）、赫克里斯一世（至1505年）和阿尔方索一世（至1534年）建造的建筑物非常多，但规模小；这些建筑具有君主家族的特征：尽管喜爱豪华——博尔索每次露面都身穿刺绣衣着，满身珠光宝气——但并没有沉迷于任意的挥霍。阿尔方索也许已预见到他那迷人的小别墅的命运——有着绿荫花园的贝尔维德尔别墅和有着喷泉和漂亮壁画的蒙达那别墅。

不可否认的是，这些君主们不断遭遇到的危险培养了他们身上各种惊人的能力。在这样一个讲究虚饰的世界里，只有具有尽善尽美谈吐的人才能希望获得成功；每一个想要卓尔不群的人都不能不以自己的个人价值来证实他所声称的事情，并显示他自己值得拥有他所寻求的王冠。他们的性格并不是没有阴暗面；但是在他们所有人身上都有当时意大利作为理想所追求的某些品质。当时欧洲哪个君主为了自己的文化，能像阿尔方索一世这样努力呢？他为了学习到法兰西、英格兰和荷兰旅行；通过这种旅行，他获得了这些国家工商业方面精确的知识。责备他闲暇时干镟工工作——尽管这和他铸炮的技术有关，责备他无任何偏见地让身边围绕擅长每种技艺的人是荒唐可笑的。意大利的君主们不像同时代的北欧君主那样，认为只有自己这个阶级值得重视，并把这同样的自高自大传染给君主的贵族社会。在意大利，君主被许可并且被迫结识和任用社会中每个阶层的人物；贵族，虽然在出身上是一个特权阶级，但在社会交往中却不得不靠个人的才能。这一点我们将在下文中进行更充分的讨论。

费拉拉人对于统治家族的感情是一种奇怪的混合物——既有沉默的恐惧，又有真正意大利人精于算计利益得失的意识，还有现代臣民的忠诚，即个人的钦敬变成一种新的担负责任的思想感情。费拉拉城于1451年建了一座骑马的铜像以纪念他们十年前去世的君主尼科洛；博尔索（1454年）毫不迟疑地把自己也是铜制，不过是坐姿的雕像，建在市场的近旁；除此以外，这个城市在他初登王位时已发布命令为他建“大理石凯旋柱”。某个公民在国外威尼斯时曾当众说过博尔索的坏话，一回国就被告发并被判以流放和没收财产的处罚。一个忠诚的市民努力控制住自己没有在法庭上用刀砍他，这个冒犯者脖子上绕着绳子，走到公爵面前请求彻底饶恕。政府精心配备了间谍，并且公爵亲自严格审查得到命令的旅店老板所呈报的日常的旅客名单。在渴望让每个著名客人都感受到礼遇的博尔索统治时期，这种规定的目的是为了殷勤好客；赫克里一世却只是把它用作一种预防措施。在波洛尼亚，在乔万尼二世本蒂伏利奥统治时，规定每一个从一个城门进来的旅客必须领取一张票，才能从另外一个城门出去。一项总是受人欢迎的措施就是突然开除欺压人民的官员。当博尔索亲自逮捕他的首席枢密顾问官时，当赫克里一世开除并贬黜一个多年来一直吸吮人民血汗的收税官时，人们燃起篝火，敲响钟，向他们表示敬意。不过，赫克里一世对他一个部下的态度却让事情走得太远。一个警察局的管理者，或者我们随意把他叫作什么（法庭长），是卢卡的格里高利奥·扎邦特——一个不适合这种职务的本地人。即使是公爵的儿子和弟兄们在此人面前也会发抖；他所开出的的罚金高达成百上千金币，甚至案件还未审理就施以酷刑；他从有钱的罪犯那里接受贿赂，并假传公爵的命令来赦免罪犯。人民会很高兴地拿出无论多少钱给统治者，以赶走这个“上帝和人类的敌人”。但是赫克里一世却授他以骑士爵位，并让他做自己孩子们的教父；而年复一年扎邦特都能攒下两千金币。他只敢吃自己家里养的鸽子，并且如果没有一队弓箭手和勇士们保护，他不可能走过街道。到除掉他的时候了。1496年，两个学生和一个他致命迫害过的改变宗教信仰的犹太人乘他在家午睡时杀死了他，然后骑着事前准备好的马驰过城内，高喊着：“出来吧！出来吧！我们已经杀死扎邦特了！”追捕者来得太迟，发现他们已经安全越过了边境。这件事产生了很多讽刺作品——其中有一些是以十四行诗的形式，另外一些是以颂歌的形式。

正是完全以这种制度的精神，君主向为朝廷尽忠和为人民造福的下属表达尊敬。当1469年博尔索的私人顾问洛德维科·卡塞拉去世的时候，没有一个法庭或者城内的商业场所或者大学讲堂被允许开放：所有人都不得不送殡到圣多密尼克教堂，因为公爵想要亲自到场。事实上，“参加臣民葬礼的伊斯特家族的第一个人”身穿黑色衣服，走在棺材后边，哭泣着，而后面跟着卡塞拉的亲属，每人由一个廷臣引导：这个普通公民的遗体由贵族们从教堂抬往修道院，在那里被安葬。这种以君主的感情所表示的官方同情首次出现在意大利国家。这种做法的根源也许是一种美好仁慈的感情；其感情的流露，尤其是在诗人中，真挚性常常令人怀疑。阿里奥斯托青年时期的一首诗，哀悼赫克里一世的妻子阿拉贡的莉奥诺拉，除了散见于所有时代的挽歌里的不可避免的墓地花朵以外，还含有某些完全现代的特点：

这一死亡给了费拉拉多年也难以恢复的一击：它的女施主现在是它天堂中的拥护者，因为地上不值得她居住；死亡天使真的没有拿着血污的镰刀像来到我们普通人这里那样来到她那里，而是优雅地带着减轻任何恐惧的和善面容来到她那里。

但是，我们也遇到了一种不同类型的同情。完全依靠自己的保护人之宠爱的小说家们，甚至在君主还没去世就以一种后人看来极不慎重，当时却被认为只是一种无害的赞颂方式向我们讲述了他的爱情故事。抒情诗人甚至走得更远，歌颂他们已合法结婚的君主的非法爱情，例如，安吉洛·波利齐亚诺歌颂“庄严者”洛伦佐的情人们，乔维诺·庞达诺用一种非凡的热情歌颂卡拉布里亚的阿尔方索的情人们。被谈论的这首诗无意中暴露了这个阿拉戈纳统治者的可憎性情；在这些事情方面，他也必须是最幸运的人，否则苦难就降临在那些更成功的人身上吧！这样，最伟大的艺术家们，例如列奥那多·达·芬奇，竟然画他们保护人的情妇们，也不过是一件理所当然的事。

但是伊斯特家族并不满足于别人的赞美；它还要自己为自己庆祝。在斯基法诺亚王宫，博尔索让人把自己画在一系列的历史事件中，赫克里（始于1472年）通过比得上耶稣圣体节的游行来庆祝他的即位周年纪念，商店像礼拜天一样关门，在队伍的中间走着身穿刺绣长袍的君主家族的所有成员（包括私生子）。王冠是荣誉和权威的源泉，个人的显达只能来源于此，这在这个宫廷中长久以来由金马刺勋章被表达出来——一个和中世纪骑士气概没有任何共同点的勋章。赫克里一世在马刺外又加上一把剑、一件金边斗篷和一笔赏金，作为对这些的回报，无疑要求提供经常的服务。

这个宫廷享誉世界的对艺术和文学的保护是通过一所意大利最完善的大学，并以给予为君主个人或宫廷服务的官位来实行的；因此这种保护不需要额外的花费。博亚尔多，作为富裕的乡绅和高官，属于这一类。当阿里奥斯托初露头角的时候，在米兰或佛罗伦萨都不存在真正意义上的宫廷了，很快在乌尔比诺或那不勒斯也没有了。他不得不满足于在枢机主教伊波利托的音乐家和魔术师中占有一席之地，直到阿尔方索招他为自己服务。再后来，托尔夸托·塔索就不一样了，人们嫉妒地寻求让他来宫廷里的机会。

第五章　暴君的反对者

面对这种中央集权，所有发生在国境内的合法反抗都是徒劳的。为了共和国的恢复所需要的环境要素已经被永远摧毁，而这个场地在为暴力和暴君专制做准备。即使拥有封建产业，毫无政治权力的贵族们可以随意地把自己称作圭尔夫派或吉伯林派，可以用加了衬的紧身裤、用有羽毛的帽子，或者用他们喜欢的其他方式来装扮他们的勇士；像马基雅维利这样有思想的人却非常清楚，米兰和那不勒斯已经太“腐败”，不可能建立共和国。有些奇怪的评价落到了这两个现在只是用来给个人争端和家庭争端以官方制裁的所谓政党的身上。有个意大利的君主——内提斯海姆的阿格利巴劝其取缔这两个政党——回答说，他们的不和一年使他收获一万二千多金币的罚款。1500年，在洛德维科·伊·摩洛短暂回国期间，托尔托纳城的圭尔夫党人为了一劳永逸地消灭他们的反对者，把一部分邻近的法国军队召引到城内来，当然法国人以掠夺和摧毁吉伯林党人开始，但以对圭尔夫党人采取同样的手段，直到托尔托纳城完全被损毁而结束。在像温床一样催生每一种强烈激情的的罗马涅，这两个政党的名字长久以来已经丧失了一切政治意义。人民有一种政治上的错觉，他们常常相信圭尔夫派自然是法国人的同盟，而吉伯林派是西班牙人的同盟。很难看到那些试图通过这种错误取利的人们这样做获得了多大的好处。法兰西，在所有干涉后，最终不得不放弃这个半岛，而西班牙，在摧毁意大利后是什么情况，每一个读者已很了解。

但现在回到文艺复兴时期的暴君。我们可能认为，一个头脑单纯的人可能会辩解说，既然全部权力来自上帝，这些君主们，如果得到全体臣民忠诚可靠的支持，他们自己迟早一定会得到改善并去掉其暴力起因的所有痕迹。但是由激情和野心所激发的性格和想象，不可能期待有这种理智的想法。他们像庸医一样，认为通过消除症状就治愈了疾病，并且幻想着如果杀死暴君，自由自然而然就会到来。或者，甚至连这也没想到，他们只是试图为大家的仇恨提供一个发泄的出口或者为家庭的不幸或为个人的受辱报仇。因为政府拥有绝对的权力，而且不受所有法律的限制，所以反对者以同样的自由选择了自己的武器。薄伽丘公开声明：

要我称呼那个暴君为国王或者君主，并且像对待我的主人一样来忠诚地服从他吗？不，因为他是国家的敌人。我可以使用武器、阴谋、密探、伏击和欺诈来对付他；这样做是一件神圣而必要的事情。没有什么比暴君之血更可接受的献祭了。

我们没有必要讨论个人的事例；马基雅维利，在其《史论集》中著名的一章里，探讨了从希腊暴君时代以来的古今阴谋，并按照其各种各样的计划和结局以冷漠的中立态度进行了分类。我们从中只需注意两种情况：首先是在教堂里实施的谋杀，其次是古代习惯做法的影响。暴君得到如此严密的保卫，以致除了在庄严的宗教礼拜式上，在别处几乎不可能对其下手；而且在别的任何场合都不可能看到整个家族聚在一起。就为此，法布利亚诺人在大弥撒（1435年）当中，当唱到被作为暗号的《使徒信经》中“圣神降孕”时，谋杀了他们的统治家族——贾维斯特利的全家。在米兰，乔万尼·马利亚·维斯康提公爵（1412年）在圣格达多的教堂入口处被暗杀；加利佐·马利亚·斯福查（1476年）在圣斯蒂芬的教堂被暗杀；洛德维科·伊·摩洛（1484年）因从另一个门而不是预料的那个门进入圣安布洛吉奥教堂，而侥幸逃脱了被遗孀波娜女公爵追随者的短剑刺死的命运。暗杀者们在这种行动中没有想要不敬神明；暗杀加利佐的凶手们在谋杀前依旧向教堂的守护圣徒祈祷，并虔诚聆听了第一场弥撒。然而，帕齐家族谋杀洛伦佐·美第奇和朱利亚诺·美第奇（1478年）的阴谋部分地失败了，原因之一是曾说好在一个宴会上实施谋杀的凶手蒙特西科拒绝在佛罗伦萨的大教堂动手。“熟悉那个神圣的地方因此绝无任何恐惧”的教士们中有一个被劝诱着代替他干了此事。

关于对古代习惯做法的效仿，这些古代习惯做法对道德，尤其是我们会经常提到的政治问题的影响，统治者们自己做了榜样，无论在他们的国家观念上还是在他们的个人行为上，他们都公开宣称以古代的罗马帝国为楷模。同样，他们的反对者在用一种审慎的理论开始采取行动时，就用古代的诛戮暴君者作为模式。也许很难证明，在主要问题上——在下这个决心本身方面——他们是有意识地按照古代的先例来做的；但求助于古代的做法却不仅仅是一句空话。关于加利佐·斯福查的谋杀者——兰普尼亚诺、奥尔加提和维斯康提的事例给我们以最惊人的揭露。尽管这三人有个人目的，但他们的冒险行为可以部分地归之于一个更普遍的理由。大约在这个时候，柯拉·德·蒙泰尼，一个人文主义者并且是修辞学教授，已经在米兰的许多青年贵族中间唤起了对于荣耀和爱国事业的一种模糊的热情，而且曾向兰普尼亚诺和奥尔加提提到了他解救米兰的希望。这很快就引起了对他的怀疑：他被从城中驱逐出去，他的学生们放纵于由他所激发起来的狂热中。大约在事发前十天，他们在圣安布洛吉奥的修道院里集会并庄严宣誓。“那时，”奥尔加提说，“在一个远处的角落，在守护圣徒的画像前，我抬眼望着他，为我们自己和他的全体人民恳求他的帮助。”这个城市的天堂中的保护神被祈求保佑这件事，然后他们又向实施谋杀事件的教堂的圣徒圣斯蒂芬祈福。这时，许多同谋者都被告知了这个秘密计划，每夜的集会在兰普尼亚诺的家里举行，暗杀者们用他们的剑鞘为谋杀进行练习。事情成功了，兰普尼亚诺被公爵的一些随从当场杀死；其他人被俘。维斯康提后悔了，但奥尔加提经历了所有酷刑依然坚持这是献给上帝的可以接受的行为，并且当刽子手打断他的肋骨时，他大声说：“勇敢，吉罗拉谟！你会永远被铭记；死亡痛苦，但光荣永存。”

但是无论这种阴谋的目的和意图貌似多么理想，实施阴谋的方式却暴露了所有阴谋者中最坏的那个——卡提利那，一个思想中毫无自由可言的人的影响。锡耶纳的编年史明确地告诉我们，这些阴谋者的所作所为是从撒路斯特那里学来的，这一事实由奥尔加提的自白间接地进一步得到证实。我们在别处也见到了卡提利那这个名字，除了他所遵循的目的外，几乎不可能发现一个更有吸引力的阴谋者的模式了。

在佛罗伦萨人中，无论何时当他们除掉或者试图除掉美第奇家族时，诛戮暴君是一种他们普遍接受和同意的做法。在1494年美第奇家族逃亡后，多那太洛的青铜群像——朱迪思和死去的的霍洛芬斯的铜像——从他们的收藏品中被取出，并被放在总督府前，即现在米开朗琪罗的《大卫》雕像所在的地方；上面刻着“挽救国家的榜样，全体公民建于1495年”。没有比小布鲁图斯更受欢迎的例子了，由于他叛变了罗马帝国，在但丁的《神曲》中他和卡西乌斯以及犹大同处地狱的最底层。密谋反对美第奇家族的朱利亚诺、乔万尼和朱利奥而失败（1513年）的彼埃特罗·保罗·巴斯卡利是布鲁图斯的狂热崇拜者，为了紧随他的步伐，等待找到一个卡西乌斯，他遇到了阿古斯丁诺·卡伯尼，在其身上发现他是这样一个同伙。他在狱中最后所说的话——当时的宗教感情的一个惊人证据——表明他为了要像基督徒那样死去而费了多大的努力从脑中排除那些古代的想象。他的朋友和忏悔神父两人不得不向他保证，圣·托马斯·阿奎那绝对会给那些阴谋者定罪；但后来这个忏悔神父向那个朋友承认，圣·托马斯是有区别的，他允许那些反对违背人民意志强行欺压人民的暴君的阴谋。

在洛伦奇诺·美第奇谋杀了阿利桑德罗公爵（1537年）然后逃走之后，对此事的道歉很有可能是他自己所作，当然是为了他的利益而作，在其中他称赞诛戮暴君是一种最高尚的行为；假设阿利桑德罗是一个合法婚生的美第奇，和他有亲属关系，即使仅仅是远亲，他勇敢地把自己和为国家而杀害自己弟兄的提摩利昂相比。其他人，在同样的情形下，常常和布鲁图斯相比；从米开朗琪罗在巴尔杰洛博物馆里雕塑的布鲁图斯半身像上可以推断，甚至在晚年，米开朗琪罗对于这种想法也并不反对。像几乎他的所有作品一样，这尊雕像他也没有完成，但如同雕像下的声明所写，这当然不是因为谋杀凯撒事件与他的感情有矛盾。

以反对后来时代的君主制形式出现的大众的激进主义在文艺复兴时期的暴君专制国家里是不可能找到的。每一个个人心里抗议暴君专制，但都更愿意和它达成可忍受的或有利的协议，而不愿和别人联合起来消灭它。情况一定像民众联合起来消灭或者驱逐统治家族之前的加米里诺、法布利亚诺和里米尼一样坏。大多数情况下，他们太清楚了，这只是意味着更换主人而已。当然，共和国之星在陨落。

第六章　共和国：威尼斯和佛罗伦萨

意大利的自治城市早期已有些信号证明有把城市转变成国家的力量。剩下的只是这些城市应该联合成一个大联邦；而且这种想法不断被意大利政治家们提起，不管它不时地所呈现出来的形式有多么不同。实际上，在十二世纪和十三世纪的斗争中，强大的联盟其实已由这些城市组成；西斯蒙第持有这种意见：在伦巴第联盟反对巴巴若萨（自1168年始）的最终武装力量形成之时即整个意大利联盟变为可能之时。但是那些更加强大的国家已经发展到具有了一些使任何这样的计划行不通的特点。在商业交易中，他们采取非常极端的方法来减少参与，这会损害竞争者；他们使较弱的邻邦处于一种无助的从属地位——总之，每个国家都想着能够不靠其他国家帮助自己发展下去，这样就为未来侵占其他国家铺平了道路。这位侵占者随着以下情况的发生即将出现：当贵族和人民之间以及贵族各派别之间的长期冲突唤起了人们对一个强有力政府的渴望时，以及当那些准备并且愿意把自己的帮助出卖给最高投标人的雇佣兵队伍已经取代了从市民中征募的军队时，这些军队被党派领袖们认为已不符合他们的要求。暴君们破坏了大多数城市的自由；他们到处受到驱逐，但并不彻底，或者仅仅是短时期的；他们总是被恢复王位，因为国内状况对他们有利，并且反对势力已筋疲力尽。

在那些仍然保持独立的城市中间，有两个对于人类历史具有深刻意义的城市：佛罗伦萨，这个不断发生运动的城市，给我们留下了一份三个世纪以来所有参与这种运动的每个人的思想和抱负的记载；威尼斯，这个貌似停滞和处于政治秘密状态的城市。所能想象到的对比没有一个比这两个城市所提供给我们的更强烈，这两个城市哪个也不能和迄今为止世上已产生的任何东西作比较。

威尼斯从一开始就认识到自己是一个奇怪而神秘的创造物——一个高于人类灵智的力量的产物。这个城市的庄严奠基是一个传奇故事的主题。413年3月25日中午，来自帕多瓦的移民在利亚尔图放下了第一块石头，以便他们可以在野蛮人的蹂躏下有一个神圣不被侵犯的避难所。后世的作家们把对于这个城市未来的崇高伟大有所预感这件事归之于它的建立者们。安托尼奥·萨伯利科在他六音步诗篇的尊贵叙述中歌颂了这件大事，他让做完献祭仪式的牧师向天高喊：“当从此以后我们尝试伟大事业的时候，愿上帝赐予我们繁荣富足！现在我们跪在粗劣的祭坛前；但如果我们的发誓并非徒劳，上帝啊，成百座用黄金和大理石所建的神殿将为你而立。”这个岛城在十五世纪末是世界的珍宝盒。萨伯利科曾描写到，这里有古代的圆屋顶、斜塔，镶嵌大理石的建筑物正面，最富丽的装饰也没有阻碍对每个角落的实际利用时所浓缩的壮观。他带我们到利亚尔图的圣吉亚科米多教堂前拥挤的市场中，全世界的商业正在那里进行交易，不是在喊叫和混乱中，而是在压低声音的嗡嗡声中进行的；广场周围和邻近街道的门廊里坐着成百上千的货币兑换商和金匠，他们头上是一排排没有尽头的商铺和货栈。他描写了桥那边德国人的大商业区，那里有他们的货物和住所，大商业区前，他们的船并排停泊在运河里；再往上是装满了酒和油的整个船队，和它并排，在蜂拥着搬运工的岸上，是商人们住房的圆顶；然后从利亚尔图到圣马可广场一路上是客栈和香料店。所以他带领读者从一个市区到另一个市区，直至最后来到了两所属于公共福利机构——数量多到无处可比——的医院。不光是在战争战时期，就算是在和平时期，对人民的关怀也是这个政府的特点，它对伤员，甚至是敌人的伤员的照顾，得到了其他国家的敬佩。

每一种公共机构都能在威尼斯找到他们的模式；有序执行退休工作人员的退休金制度，包括给孤儿寡母的抚恤金。富裕、政治安定和对其他国家的了解，使它对于这些问题的思考已经成熟。这些迈着轻轻而小心的步伐、说着经过深思的话语、身材纤细的金发男人，只是在服装和举止上彼此有些细微的差别。装饰品，尤其是珍珠，专供妇人和女孩子们佩戴。那时，尽管在土耳其人那里遭受了一些损失，普遍的繁荣富足仍然令人眼花缭乱；这个城市所积蓄的力量以及整个欧洲对它的偏爱，使它在很久以后能够从通往印度的海路的发现、埃及马穆卢克人的灭亡和坎姆布雷同盟的战争所给予它的沉重打击中生存下来。

出生在蒂沃利附近、有着他那个时代学者们讲话坦率而滔滔不绝习惯的萨伯利科，在别的地方有些惊讶地评论说，早晨来听他讲演的青年贵族们并不能被说服进行政治问题的讨论。“当我问他们，人们对于意大利的某个运动的想法、言论和期待是什么的时候，他们异口同声回答，他们对此事一无所知。”还有，虽然这个国家有严格的强制要求，但许多情况仍然会被那些愿意出高价的人从贵族中比较腐化的人那儿了解到。在十五世纪最后的二十五年，在最高级的官员中间出现了叛国者；教皇们、意大利的君主们，甚至在政府服役的处于社会二等阶层的雇佣兵队长们，都有他们的御用情报员，有时还给这些情报员固定的薪金；事情甚至发展到这样的地步，十人议会发现要非常小心地封锁重要的政治消息，不让大议会知道，甚至认为洛德维科·伊·摩洛在大议会里控制了一定数量的选票。个别犯罪者的绞刑和高额赏金——像给告发犯罪者的人以六十金币的终身年金——是否有很大作用，很难判断；引起弊端的主要原因之一是贵族中许多人的贫穷不可能一朝一夕就被消除。1492年，处于贵族中贫穷阶层的两个人强烈提议，国家应该每年救济不担任公职的贫穷贵族七万金币；这个提议几乎要被提到大议会上，在那里也许有多数人支持，这时十人议会及时干涉，并把这两个提议者终身流放到塞浦路斯的尼科西亚去。大约在同一时期，一个姓索伦佐的人因盗窃圣物罪被绞死——尽管不是在威尼斯本城，一个姓康达利尼的人因夜晚入室盗窃罪而被囚禁；康达利尼家族中的另一个人，在1499年，来到总督署里抱怨说他多年没有任职，他每年只有十六金币的收入但有九个孩子，他的债务已高达六十金币，他不会谋生之道，最近已流落街头。我们能够理解为什么有些比较富有的贵族建造房屋，有时是整排整排的房屋，给他们贫苦的同胞提供免费的住处。这种建造房屋的工程在作为慈善行为的遗嘱中被列出来。

但是，如果威尼斯的敌人把希望认真地建立在这类弊端上，他们就大错特错了。大家也许认为，让最卑微的人也能通过劳动获得丰厚报酬的城市商业活动以及地中海东海岸的殖民地，将使社会中的危险因素远离政治问题；但是热那亚，虽有类似的有利条件，它的政治历史难道不是最动荡的吗？威尼斯社会稳定的根源更多在于，只有在国家团结和谐的环境中才能发现的各种情况的结合。由于无懈可击的位置，它从一开始就能够最充分冷静地思考处理外交事务，而几乎完全忽略瓜分意大利其余各地的党派，避免卷入永久同盟的纠缠，并为那些它认为适合缔结的同盟付出最高的代价。因此，威尼斯性格的基调是一种自豪和傲然独立的精神，这种精神加上可感觉到的意大利其他地区对这个城市的仇恨，就产生了内部团结一致的强烈意识。同时，居民们在与殖民地交易和与大陆领地交易时，被最有力的利益这条纽带联系在一起，迫使大陆领地的人们，也就是一直到贝尔加莫的各城镇的居民只能在威尼斯进行买卖。一个依靠如此人为手段的政权只能通过内部的和谐与团结来维持；这种信念非常广泛地散布在市民中间，以至于阴谋者几乎找不到可以举事的因素。即使有心怀不满的人，也因贵族和自由民之间巨大的区别，而导致彼此之间不容易相互理解。另一方面，在贵族阶层内部，旅行、商业经营还有和土耳其人的不断战争，使他们中的富人和危险分子远离了进行阴谋活动的有效根源——无所事事。在这些战争中，他们被掌权的将领所饶恕，经常到了一种犯罪的程度，如果贵族们这种“彼此给予痛苦”的顾虑不惜以损害正义为代价继续下去的话，威尼斯人加图预言了这个城市的灭亡。即使如此，这种公开的自由活动仍然使威尼斯的贵族们整体来看具有一种健康的倾向。

当嫉妒和野心需要满足时，一个官方牺牲者唾手可得，合法的手段和当局已准备好。所有威尼斯人有目共睹的弗兰切斯科·福斯卡里总督（死于1457年）多年来所遭受的精神上的折磨，是一个只有在贵族统治的国家才可能出现的可怕的报复例子。十人议会插手所有事务，无需上诉就可以处理生死、财务和军事任命的事务，审问官就是其成员，并且十人议会推翻了福斯卡里，像它以前推翻许多有权势的人一样——这个议会每年从整个统治机构大议会中重新选举成员组成，因此十人议会最直接代表着大议会的意志。因为任期短而责任大使其成为乏人问津的一个目标，所以选举中不大可能发生重大的阴谋事件。尽管这个议会和其他权力机关的行径既暴力又难以理解，但真正的威尼斯人却宁可接受也不逃避他们的判决，这不仅仅是因为这个共和国法网恢恢，并且若抓不到本人，就可能采取惩罚他的家人的做法；也是因为在大多数的情形下，它是出于理性动机而不是嗜血的欲望来行事。确实，没有一个国家曾像它一样，对自己的无论国内还是国外的臣民有更强大的道义上的影响。如果元老院中发现叛徒，那么每一个国外的威尼斯人都是自己国家的天生密探这一事实也足以弥补了。在罗马的威尼斯枢机主教把罗马教皇主持、各地枢机主教参加的教议会上院的秘密会议的相关消息发送到国内是一件很自然的事情。枢机主教多密尼克·格里马尼在罗马附近（1500年）让人截取了阿斯卡尼奥·斯福查正送给他弟弟洛德维科·伊·摩洛的文件，并把文件送往威尼斯；他当时正受到严重起诉的父亲在大议会上，换句话说，也就是在全世界面前，要求公众看在他儿子的这一做法上而受到宽大处理。

我们已经提到过威尼斯政府给它的雇佣兵队长薪俸这种行为。唯一能够从雇佣兵队长身上获得他们忠诚的进一步保障在于他们人数众多；由于人数众多，叛变难以实施就像叛变容易被发现一样。看一看威尼斯的军籍表，人们只是惊讶于如此各色人等所组成的军队怎么可能采取任何共同行动。在1495年战役的编制表中，我们看到有一万五千五百二十六名骑兵，他们被分成许多小分队。曼图亚的贡查加一人就有一千二百名，乔佛里多·波几亚有七百四十名；然后是六个小分队队长，各有六百名到七百名，十个小分队队长，各有四百名，十二个小分队队长，各有四百名到二百名，十四个左右的小分队队长，各有二百名到一百名，九个小分队队长，各有八十名，六个小分队队长，各有五十名到六十名等等。这些军队一部分由原有的威尼斯部队组成，一部分由威尼斯城或者乡村贵族所领导的老兵组成；不过，大多数将领是各城市的君主和统治者或者他们的亲属。除这些军队外，还必须加上两万四千名步兵——我们不知道，他们是怎样被招募和指挥的——还有另外三千三百名的军队，他们大概属于特殊的职责范围。和平时期，大陆上的城市全部不设防或者由不重要的军队驻守。威尼斯所依靠的，即使不能准确地说是它的臣民的忠诚，也至少是他们的正确意识；在坎姆布雷同盟战争（1509年）中，众所周知，它免去了他们忠诚于政府的发誓，让他们把被外国占领的舒适和他们所习惯的温和的政治作比较。因为他们放弃圣马可并不算作叛国，所以他们不会害怕受到惩罚，并且他们怀着最热切的心情回到了旧主人身边。我们可以附带说一句，这次战争是一个世纪以来反对威尼斯扩张野心的呼吁的结果。事实上，威尼斯人也没有免除那些相信他们的敌人不会采取无理性、轻率行为的聪明过度的人们的错误。受这种乐观主义、也许是贵族统治所具有的奇怪弱点的误导，他们不仅完全忽视了穆罕默德二世为夺取君士坦丁堡所做的准备，而且甚至忽视了查理八世的武装备战，直至意外的打击最终降临。坎姆布雷同盟，在它显然违背两个主要成员——路易七世和教皇优里乌斯二世——的利益方面，是属于同一性质的事件。全意大利反对这个胜利城市的仇恨似乎都汇聚在这个教皇的头脑中，使他看不到外国干涉的恶行；至于阿姆布阿斯枢机主教和他的国王的政策，威尼斯本应该很早就认识到它是怀有恶意的愚笨行为而彻底加以警惕。这个同盟的其他成员由于妒忌参加进来，这种妒忌对于特别富强的国家也许能起到一种有益的矫正作用，但它本身却是一种乞丐般的情绪。威尼斯光荣地经受了这一场斗争，但依然遭受到永久性的伤害。

一个政权基础如此复杂，活动和利益的舞台如此宽广，如果没有系统的全盘监督，没有对于方法和负担、利润和损失的定期估算，是不可想象的。威尼斯可以证实它所声称的，它是，也许和佛罗伦萨一起，是统计科学的诞生地，并被其他较开明的暴君国家所效仿。中世纪的封建国家除了对于领主的权利和财产这些目录外，对于其他一无所知；它把总产量看作是固定的数量，只有仅涉及地产时，它大体上才是如此。另一方面，整个西方城镇从很早就意识到依靠工商业的总产量变化很大；然而，即使在汉萨同盟的最繁荣时代，它们所得到的也不过是一张简单的商业资产负债表。舰队、军队、政治的权力和影响都落在商人总账的借方和贷方之下。在意大利的各城市国家里，一种清醒的政治意识、穆罕默德式的行政管理模式和长期积极的工商业活动结合起来，首次产生了一种真正的统计科学。在南意大利，弗雷德里克二世的君主专制国家被组建起来，唯一的目标就是为他所从事的生死斗争确保一个集中的权力。相反在威尼斯，最高的目标则是对于生活和权力的享受、所继承利益的增加、最赚钱的工业形式的创立以及新商业渠道的开辟。

当时的作家以最大的自由来谈论这些事情。我们知道，1422年该城人口达到十九万；意大利人可能是第一个没有按照家庭、或者拿得动武器的人、或者有能力行走的人等等来计算人口，而是按照“生命”来计算的人，所以能够为进一步的计算取得最中立的根据。大约在这一时期，当佛罗伦萨人希望和威尼斯结成同盟反对菲利波·马利亚·维斯康提时，当时就被拒绝了，威尼斯依据准确的商业利润相信：一场威尼斯和米兰，也就是卖方和买方之间的战争，是愚蠢的。即使米兰公爵只是扩充军队，米兰人由于必须缴纳较重的赋税，也会变成较差的主顾。“最好让佛罗伦萨人被打败，然后，尽管他们习惯于城邦的生活，但他们也会像卢卡人在困境中所做的那样，到我们这儿定居并带来他们的丝织品和毛织品。”奄奄一息的莫森尼哥总督（1423年）对他派人召集到床前的几个元老的讲话仍然非同寻常。它包含威尼斯全部资源统计账目的主要项目。我说不出是否有或者哪里有对于这份错综复杂的文件的一个详细阐释；作为举例说明，可以引用下列事实。在偿还了四百万金币的战争贷款后，国家公债（总额）仍然达到六百万金币；往来贸易（似乎是这样）达到一千万金币，文献告诉我们，这可以产出四百万金币的利润。三千只“小船”，三百只“大船”，和四十五艘军舰分别配备一万七千、八千和一万一千名海员（每艘军舰二百多人）。此外，还必须加上一万六千名造船木工。威尼斯的房屋价值七百万，房租收入五十万。有一千名贵族收入范围从七十到四千金币不等。在另一段里记载着同一年这个国家的一般收入为一百一十万金币；由于战争造成的对于贸易的干扰，这个世纪中期国家收入降到八十万金币。

如果威尼斯以这种计算的精神和她所给予它的实际应用，是第一个充分体现了现代政治生活的一个重要方面的国家的话，那么，另一方面，在意大利当时最看重的文化方面，她并没有站在前列。总的来说，对于文学的推动，尤其是在其他各地所盛行的对于古典文化的热情，在这里是缺乏的。萨伯利科说，威尼斯人哲学和雄辩方面的卓越才能本身并不亚于他们商业和政治上的才能；于1459年把柏拉图《法学》的拉丁文译本献给威尼斯总督特列比松的乔治，被任命为哲学教授，年薪一百五十金币，最后把他的《修辞学》献给了元老院。然而，如果我们查看弗兰切斯科·桑索维诺附录在他著名的著作后边的威尼斯文学史，我们就会发现，在十四世纪除了历史和神学、法学与医药专著外，几乎没有任何其他作品；在十五世纪，直到我们看到伊尔莫劳·巴巴罗和阿尔多·曼纽奇，人文主义的文化对于一个如此重要的城市体现得非常贫乏。贝萨利昂枢机主教遗赠给国家的藏书（1468年）侥幸逃过散失和破坏的命运。帕多瓦大学当然培养对于知识的学习；可是，在那里医学专家和司法专家——后者是写作法律意见的人——收入最高。在意大利的诗歌创作方面，威尼斯所占的比例长久以来就无足轻重，直到十六世纪初，她在这方面的不足才有所弥补。就连文艺复兴时期的艺术也是从外部传入这个城市的，就在十五世纪末，她才以独立的自由和力量学习进入这一领域。但是我们看到能够说明其知识依然落后的更显著的事例。这个政府，虽然把教士如此完全地置于自己的掌控中，把所有重要教职的任命权都保留在自己手中，并且一次又一次地敢于蔑视罗马教廷，却展现出一种非常独特的官方的虔诚。土耳其征服希腊后，从希腊运入的圣徒遗体和其他遗物被以最大的代价购买，并由总督以庄严的仪式列队恭迎。为了一件无缝的僧袍，决定（1455年）出价一万金币，但最终没有得到。这些做法并不是大家头脑一热的结果，而是政府首脑们冷静决策的结果，并且就是不这样做也不会引起任何评论，在佛罗伦萨，同样情形下，当然就不会这样做了。我们不谈群众的虔诚和他们对于一张亚力山大六世的赦罪券的坚定信仰。但这个国家本身，在它同化教会到一个在其他地方闻所未闻的程度以后，它的结构中确实有着某种宗教成分；并且这个国家的象征，总督本人，出现在十二次盛大的有着半宗教性质的游行队伍中。它们几乎全部是为了纪念政治事件的庆典，并且其壮观程度可以和教会的盛大节日相媲美；其中最辉煌的一次，即最著名的“与海结婚”是在基督升天节举行的。

我们发现最进步的政治思想和最多样化的人类发展的形式在佛罗伦萨的历史上结合在一起，从这个意义上说，她称得上是世界上最现代化的国家。在这里，全体人民忙于在暴君专制的城邦里属于单个家庭的事情。那种奇特的佛罗伦萨精神——既有尖锐的批判同时又有艺术的创造——不断地改变着这个国家的社会政治状况，并不断地描述和评价这种变化。因此佛罗伦萨成了政治学说和理论、实验和突然变革的家园，但也像威尼斯一样，成了统计科学的家园，而且超越其他国家，独自成了在现代意义上的历史体现的家园。古罗马的辉煌和对于它的最主要作家的熟悉并非没有影响。乔万尼·维兰尼承认在1300年的罗马纪念节庆典上，他第一次产生了写作他那部伟大作品的念头，一回到家就马上开始写起来。然而那一年的二十万朝圣者中间有多少人在天赋和文学旨趣上也许像他一样，但还是没有写出他们自己城邦的历史！因为不是所有人都能用这种想法鼓励自己：“罗马在陨落；我的城市在兴起，已准备好完成伟大的事业，因此我想要叙述它过去的历史，并希望把故事一直写到现代，只要我一息尚存。”佛罗伦萨通过其历史学者们获得了比历史见证更进一步的东西——盛名，超越了意大利任何其他城市。

我们现在的任务并不是要写这座卓越城市国家的历史，而只是要说明佛罗伦萨人因之感谢这一历史的知识分子的自由和独立。

意大利其他任何一个城市的政党斗争都没有这样激烈，开始得那么早，持续得那么长久。关于这些斗争的描述确实开始于较晚的时期，但这些描述清楚地证明了佛罗伦萨批判主义精神的优越性。

这些斗争危机的牺牲者之一，是在家乡和流放生活中成长起来的但丁·阿利基里，这是一个多么伟大的政治家啊！他在强硬的诗行中，表达了对于故乡城市宪法不断修改和实验的轻蔑，只要同样的政治事件再次发生，这些诗行就会一直流传下去。他用既蔑视又向往、足以拨动同胞心弦的话语向家乡人发表讲话。但是他的思想遍布意大利和整个世界；如果他对于帝国的热情像他所构想的，只不过是一种幻想，那也必须承认，对于一种新生的政治事业的青春梦想就他而言，具有诗歌的崇高壮丽。他很自豪是第一个走上这条路的人，当然是沿着亚里士多德的足迹，却又是独立地以他自己的方式行走的人。他理想的皇帝是一个富有正义感和人道主义精神的法官，他只依靠上帝，是得到大自然、正义和上帝意志所认可的罗马帝国之世界统治的继承人。根据这一观点，征服世界是正义的行为，是建立在罗马帝国和世界其他国家之间的神授裁决上，并且上帝许可这个帝国这样做，因为在其荣光下，他成为人，出生时上报给奥古斯都皇帝的人口普查，死去时呈送给庞提乌斯·彼拉多的审判。也许我们发现很难欣赏这些和其他类似的辩解；但是但丁的热情总会使我们同意他的意见。在他的信件中，他作为最早的时事评论员之一出现，并且也许是第一个以这种形式出版政治小册子的俗人。他开始得很早，在比阿特丽斯死后不久，他就写了一本关于佛罗伦萨这个国家的小册子——《给世界上的伟大人物》；而从他被放逐时起，在后来的岁月里所发表的公开言论全都针对皇帝、君主和枢机主教。在这些信件和他的著作《俗语论》中，反复萦绕着一种用极端痛苦的辛劳所换来的感觉，即这个被放逐者也许只可以在别处，而不是在他的家乡找到一个语言和文化的知识分子的家园，这个家园不可能从他身边带走。关于这一点，我们在下文中要详述。

相较于维兰尼两兄弟——乔万尼和马提奥——的深刻的政治思索，我们更感激其新颖而实际的观察、佛罗伦萨统计的要素和对其他国家的重要短评。在这里贸易和商业也曾推动了经济学和政治学的发展。世界上没有任何一个地方关于财政事务有这样准确的资料。阿维尼翁的教廷的财产，在教皇约翰二十二世去世时达到二千五百万金弗罗林，如果不是根据可靠的权威记载，会令人难以置信。只有在佛罗伦萨这里，我们才能见到像英格兰国王从佛罗伦萨的巴尔第和佩鲁齐家族那里所签订的巨额贷款，他们在国王陛下身上损失了一百三十六万五千金弗罗林（1338年）——这是他们自己及其合伙人的钱——但不管怎么说他们还是从这次打击中恢复了过来。这里记载着有关佛罗伦萨这个时期现状的更重要的事实：国家收入（超过三十万金弗罗林）和花销；这个城市的人口数——这是按照面包的消耗量，比如每人的口粮，只是大约估计——定为九万人，还有整个领土上的人口数；在每年受洗的五千八百到六千个婴儿中间，男婴比女婴多出三百到五百人；在小学生中，有八千到一万人学习阅读，六所学校里的一千到一千二百人学习算术；除此之外，还有六百个学生在四所学校里学习拉丁文法和逻辑。接着记载着以下各项的统计：教会和修道院、医院——有一千多个床位、羊毛贸易——附有最宝贵的详细资料、造币厂、城市的粮食供应、公职人员等等。我们在翻阅中也偶然了解了许多稀奇古怪的事实：例如在1353年，当首次确定发行公债时，方济各会修道士怎样在布道坛上赞成这项措施，而多米尼克会修道士和奥古斯丁会修道士怎样反对它。有关黑死病的经济上的后果，整个欧洲没有任何其他地方像这个城市一样做过或者能够做出观察和描述。只有一个佛罗伦萨人才可能把下面这种情况记录下来：人们是怎样期待着减少的人口会使各种物品价格便宜，相反，劳务和商品的价格，在这种期待没有实现的情况下，又是如何涨了一倍；普通人是怎样最初根本不愿意工作而只沉湎于享乐；在这个城市是怎样必须付给极高的薪资才能找到男女仆人；农民是怎样只耕作最好的土地而任由其余土地荒芜；庞大的遗产是怎样在瘟疫中遗赠给穷人而后来似乎毫无用处，因为穷人或者已经死去或者已不再贫穷。最后，利用一个无子女的慈善家给这个城市的每一个乞丐六个“达那利”银币的大额遗赠的机会，文献试图对佛罗伦萨的乞丐情况做一个全面的统计。

这种对于事物的统计观点后来在佛罗伦萨得以更高度的发展，与此有关值得注意的一点是，一般说来，我们能够看到它与历史的更高方面、与艺术以及通常所说的文化的联系。在同一文献中，1422年的一份财产报表提到了“新市场”周围的七十二个交换所；流通中的硬币的数量（二百万金弗罗林）；然后是当时新兴的金织工业；丝制品；菲利波·布鲁内莱斯科——当时正忙于从坟墓中挖掘古代建筑；共和国大臣列奥那多·阿雷提诺正努力复兴古代文学和修辞学；最后，它谈到了这个城市当时不受政治斗争影响的普遍繁荣和意大利摆脱了外国雇佣兵的幸运。上面所引述的大约从同一年开始的威尼斯统计，当然证明了威尼斯所拥有的更大财富和利润，以及更广阔的商业范围；在佛罗伦萨派出首批军舰（1422年）到亚力山大港之前，威尼斯长久以来就已是海上霸主。但是每一个读者都能够清楚地认识到佛罗伦萨文献更高的精神气魄。这些以及各种类似的一览表每隔十年再次出现，系统地加以安排和列表显示，而在其他地方我们最多发现一些偶然的简单介绍。我们能够对名列第一位的美第奇家族的财产和产业形成一个约略的估计；他们从1434年到1471年用于慈善、公共建筑和各种税的付出不少于六十六万三千七百五十五金弗罗林，其中四十多万是柯西莫一个人承担的，而洛伦佐·麦格尼菲柯很高兴这笔钱花得如此恰当。在1478年，我们对于这个城市的商业和贸易再次有了非常重要、在此方面算是完整的发现，其中一些可以全部或部分地被看作属于精致的艺术品——比如那些必须与锦缎、金银刺绣、木雕镶嵌、在大理石和沙石上的阿拉伯式雕花、蜡像、珠宝以及金制品等等打交道的商业和贸易。佛罗伦萨人对于外部生活系统化的与生俱来的才能在他们关于农业、商业和家庭经济方面的著作中得到表现，他们这些书籍明显优于十五世纪其他欧洲人的著作。出版这些著作的选集是正确的决定，尽管需要做大量的研究以便从中提炼出清楚而明确的结论。不论怎样，我们认识这个城市毫不费力，在这里，弥留之际的父母在他们的遗嘱中请求政府，如果他们的儿子拒绝从事一份常规的工作就罚他们一千弗罗林。

十六世纪的前半期，也许世界上没有一个国家拥有像瓦尔奇对于佛罗伦萨的辉煌描写那样的文献资料。它在这个城市的自由和伟大沉入坟墓之前，在叙述性的统计上，像很多其他事情一样，给我们留下了另一个范例。

可是，这种对于外部生活的统计上的估计始终如一地伴随着对于我们已提到过的政治事件的叙述。

佛罗伦萨不仅存在于比意大利和整个欧洲的自由国家更变化多端的政治形式下，而且它在这些政治形式上的反映更深刻。它是一面忠实的镜子，反映了个人以及阶级和反复无常的整体的关系。如弗鲁瓦沙尔所描绘的那样，反映法兰西和法兰德斯伟大的市民民主的图画，以及十四世纪德意志编年史作者的叙述，确实非常重要；但在思想的全面和故事的合乎情理的发展上，没有一部作品能和佛罗伦萨人的相比拟。贵族的统治、暴君、中产阶级和无产阶级的斗争，有限制的和没有限制的民主、伪民主、一家一户的秘密、萨沃那罗拉的神权政治，以及为美第奇的暴君专制铺平道路的混合政治形式——全被非常详尽地描述出来，以至于演员最隐秘的动机都暴露在灯光之下。马基雅维利在他的佛罗伦萨历史（到1492年止）中把故乡城市描述为一个活着的有机体，把它的发展描述为一个自然而单独的过程；他是现代人中第一个将此上升到这样一种观念的人。我们的研究范围不包括判断马基雅维利是否并在哪些点上歪曲了历史，像他的卡斯特鲁乔·卡斯特拉卡内传这个臭名昭著的例子——关于那位典型暴君的一幅空想出来的图画。我们也许可以发现一些反驳他所著《佛罗伦萨史》的每一行的材料，但整部著作伟大而独特的价值不会受到影响。他的同时代的人和后继者们，亚科波·彼蒂、圭奇阿尔狄尼、塞尼、瓦尔奇、维托利，这是一组多么卓越优秀的名字啊！这些大师们向我们讲述的是多么精彩的故事啊！这里展现着佛罗伦萨共和国最后几十年里所发生的伟大而值得纪念的戏剧性事件。这本记载了当时世界所能呈现的最高最独特生活的衰落的多卷本著作，在一个人看来，也许不过像是一部奇闻异事集，在另一个人心里也许会唤起他看到如此高贵而富丽堂皇的生活像船只失事般毁灭所产生的魔鬼般的喜悦，对于第三个人来说，也许看起来像是一个伟大的历史审判；对于所有人它将永远是一个思索和研究的对象。永远扰乱这个城市和平的恶行，就是它对于像比萨这样曾经强大而现在被征服的对手的统治——一种其后果必然是长期暴力状态的统治。唯一的补救措施——当然是一个极端的办法，而且除了萨沃那罗拉没人能说服佛罗伦萨接受——就是选择恰当时机消灭托斯卡纳，使它变成一个自由城市的联邦国家。后来，这个不过是一个过去时代的梦想的计划把卢卡的一个爱国公民送上了绞刑架（1548年）。由于这一恶行，并由于佛罗伦萨的注定要倒霉的圭尔夫派对一个外国君主抱有同情，佛罗伦萨不断遭到外国的干涉，带来了随后的所有灾难。但是谁不敬佩这个民族呢？这个民族由可敬的传教士培养起一种持久不变的高尚心境，以至于首次在意大利树立了不杀降敌的榜样，虽然它过去的整个历史所教导的无非是复仇与消灭。那种把爱国主义融入具有道德新生的人身上的光辉，当从远处看时，也许好像很快就消逝了；但它最好的结果却在值得纪念的1529至1530年之围中重新闪耀。他们是“傻瓜”，像圭奇阿尔狄尼当时所写的，给佛罗伦萨带来了这一风暴，但他自己也承认他们做成了好像是让人难以置信的事情；当他宣称明智的人民会逃脱这一危险时，他的意思不过是说佛罗伦萨本应该默默地、不光彩地投降，落入敌手。毫无疑问这会保存它壮丽的城郊和花园，还有无数市民的生命和富足的生活，但是相较于它最伟大最崇高的一次记忆来，这就很不体面。

在许多主要优点方面，佛罗伦萨人是意大利人，一般来说也是现代欧洲人的模式和最早的类型；同样，在许多缺点方面他们也是如此。当但丁把这个总是在修改其政体的城市和一个不断变换姿势以摆脱痛苦的病人相比较时，他用比较的方式触及了佛罗伦萨政治生活的永恒特征。那些认为通过把现存势力和各种趋势结合起来就可以创造一种政体的重大现代谬论，不断地在动乱的时候出现；就连马基雅维利也没有完全免于此。从不缺乏这样的政治艺术家，他们通过对政治权力的一种巧妙分配和划分，通过最复杂的间接选举，通过设立名义上的职务的方法，寻求建立事情的一种永久秩序，并且寻求满足或者欺骗富人，同样还有穷人。他们天真地效法古代的做法，借用政党名称“清流党”、“贵族党”，是一件自然的事。从那时起人们就习惯了这些名称并赋予它们一种传统的欧洲意义，而所有先前的党派名称则纯粹具有民族性，这些名字或者代表不和的原因，或者是由于事件偶然得名。但是，一个名字对于一个政治事业色彩的渲染或褪去，其作用是多么大啊！

在所有那些认为有可能建设一个国家的人们当中，最无与伦比、最伟大的是马基雅维利。他把存在的各种力量看作是有生命和主动的，对于可能的选择，有一个大的而准确的看法，试图既不误导自己也不误导别人。没人比他更能不受虚荣和浮夸的影响，确实，他写作不是为民众，而是为君主和管理者，或是为个人的朋友。对于他的危险并不在于天才的装模作样或对于思想观点顺序安排的错误，而是在于他显然难以控制的强大的想象力。他的政治评价的客观性，在真实性方面有时令人震惊；但它是生死危亡之际而非平常之需的标志，那时，很难相信正义，或者信任别人有公正的行为。我们抛弃了对于他的道德上的声讨，我们已经看到我们自己这个世纪的政治家们是从什么意义上理解政治道德的。不管怎么说，马基雅维利能够在自己的事业中忘记自己。事实上，尽管他的作品（除了个别词句）完全没有热情，并且最后佛罗伦萨人自己把他看作是一个罪人，但他是一个完完全全的爱国者。尽管他像他的大多数同时代人一样，在言语和道德方面很自由，但他始终思考的是国家的福利。

他在佛罗伦萨建立一个新政治制度的最完整的方案是在他纪念教皇列奥十世的文章中提出来的，此文作于小洛伦佐·美第奇——乌尔比诺公爵（死于1519年）——死后，他曾把他的著作《君主论》献给这位公爵。国家那时正处于穷途末路、腐败不堪的状态，所提出的补救措施在道德上并不总是正当的；但非常有趣的是看到他如何希望建立具有温和民主形式的共和国，它好像是美第奇家族的女继承人。我们想象不出一个比这更巧妙的对教皇、对教皇的各种信徒，以及对佛罗伦萨的不同利益做出让步的计划；我们可以想象自己在观察一个钟表的装置。原则、观察报告、比较、政治预测诸如此类，大量出现在其著作《史论集》中，其中闪耀着远见卓识的光辉。例如，他清楚地认识到共和制度及其组织机构的尽管不是一以贯之却是持续不断的发展规律，并要求宪法要灵活、能变化，作为避免杀戮和放逐的唯一手段。同样的原因，为了防范私人的暴力和外国的干涉——“所有自由的死亡杀手”——他希望看到引进一种司法程序（“起诉”）来处置被憎恨的市民，而在此之前佛罗伦萨只有审理丑闻案件的法庭。他以大师的手笔使不情愿判决和非自愿判决各具特点，这两种判决在共和国家的紧要关头起着非常重要的作用。有一次，他被他的想象力和各种事件的压力所误导，做出了与他能力不相符的事——称赞了人民，他说人民比任何君主能更好地选出他们自己的官员，并且能够用“善意的劝告”来使他们改正错误。关于托斯卡纳政府，他毫不怀疑它属于他的故乡城市，在一篇特别的“论文”中，他强调重新征服比萨是一个生死攸关的问题；他痛惜阿雷佐在1502年的叛乱之后没有被夷为平地；他整体上承认，必须允许意大利的共和国自由扩张，增加领土，以便在国内享有和平，并且不会受到外来的攻击；但他宣称，佛罗伦萨总是从错误的一端开始，从一开始就树立了比萨、卢卡和锡耶纳这些死敌，而“被待如兄弟”的皮斯托亚自愿地服从它。

把十五世纪仍然存在的其他几个共和国和这个独特的城市——这个意大利的，确实也是现代欧洲精神的最重要的创造工厂——作比较是不合乎情理的。锡耶纳苦于其最严重的组织弊病，就此来说，它艺术上和工业上的相对繁荣一定不会误导我们。伊尼亚斯·希尔维优斯从他的家乡心怀向往，远望“快乐的”德意志帝国城市，那里没有土地和货物的没收充公，没有恣意妄为的官吏，没有政治党派所有这些使生活更加痛苦的因素。热那亚几乎不在我们讨论的范围内，因为在安德烈·多利亚的时代之前，它几乎没有参与文艺复兴。确实，里维埃拉的居民在意大利人中间以蔑视所有更高的文化而臭名昭著。党派之争在这里表现出非常激烈的特性，并且极为严重地扰乱了整个生活进程，以至于我们很难理解，热那亚人在经过这么多革命和侵略之后，怎么设法恢复到一个能持久的状况。也许是由于这一事实：几乎所有参加公共事务的人同时几乎无一例外地都是积极经商的人。热那亚的例子以惊人的方式表明拥有远方的殖民地与什么样的不安全财富和庞大的商业，什么样的内部骚乱，是可以和谐共存的。

卢卡在十五世纪并不重要。

第七章　外交政策

意大利的大多数城市国家，就像在其内部政体结构上是艺术品，即深思熟虑和精心改造适应的结果一样，它们彼此之间以及和外国的关系也是一种艺术品。这些国家几乎全都是新近篡权的产物，这一事实对于他们的对外政策和对内政策一样有着致命的影响。它们没有一个无保留地承认另一个国家；对于建立和巩固一个朝代起过作用的同样的机会也可以颠覆另一个朝代。是否能保持安定和平，并不是一件总是由暴君来做选择的事。所有非法政权无一例外必然进行运动和扩张。所以意大利就变成了一个“外交政策”的舞台，这种政策，也像在其他国家一样，逐渐地获得了一个公认的国际法律体系的地位。这种对于国际事务既无偏见也无道德顾虑的纯客观处理，达到了完美的程度；有时其本身并非没有某种美好和伟大之处，但整体来说，它却给我们以无底深渊的印象。

阴谋、军队、同盟、腐化和谋反构成了这一时期意大利的外部历史。尤其是威尼斯很久以来都受到各方谴责，指责它试图征服整个半岛，或者逐渐削弱半岛的力量，以致最终一个个国家必定会落入她手中。但根据深入观察，这种怨言很明显并非来自人民，而是来自被人民所憎恶的宫廷和官员阶层，而威尼斯的温和政府已经为自己获得普遍的信任作了保证。就连有着难以控制的从属城市的佛罗伦萨，除了对威尼斯商业上的妒忌和威尼斯在罗马涅的发展，也发现自己相对于威尼斯处在一种虚假的地位。最后，坎姆布雷同盟确实给了这个全意大利本应该以联合的力量给予支持的国家以沉重一击。

其他国家也被同样不友好的感情所驱使，时刻准备使用其邪恶本性所想到的斗争手段来互相攻击。洛德维科·伊·摩洛，那不勒斯的阿拉戈纳国王们和教皇西克塔斯四世——不必说那些较小的政权——使意大利处于一种持续不断的危险动荡之中。要是这种残暴的角逐仅限于意大利就好了；但这种角逐具有这一性质，即最终会向外国——尤其是法兰西人和土耳其人——寻求干涉和帮助。

人民大众的同情完全在法兰西一边。佛罗伦萨从未停止过以令人震惊天真地承认其对于法兰西人的老圭尔夫派的偏爱。当查理八世出现在阿尔卑斯山南部地区时，全意大利以一种他本人及其追随者似乎都不能解释的热情迎接他。在意大利人的想象中，以萨沃那罗拉为例，一个明智、公正和强有力的救世主和统治者的理想形象仍然活着，不同之处在于：他不再是但丁所祈求的皇帝，而是法兰西的卡贝族国王。这种幻想随着他的离去破灭了；但很久以后，所有人才明白查理八世、路易十二世和弗朗索瓦一世是怎样完全误解了他们和意大利的真正关系，以及受到多么低劣动机的引导。就君主们来说，他们试图用完全不同的方式来利用法兰西。当法英战争结束时，当路易十一世四面八方到处布置他外交的罗网时，当勃艮第的查理开始他愚蠢的冒险行动时，意大利各内阁政府准备在各个方面应付他们。很明显，即使法兰西从没要求过那不勒斯和米兰的领土，它的干涉也只是个时间问题，并且它过去对热那亚和皮埃蒙特的干涉仅仅是一个要仿效的先例。其实，威尼斯人早在1462年就已经预料到这一点了。米兰的加利佐·马利亚公爵在勃艮第战争中显然既是路易的同盟又是查理的同盟，因此他有理由害怕来自双方的攻击，他这种战争期间的道义上的恐惧在他的书信里明显地表现出来。就像“豪华者”洛伦佐所理解的使四个主要的意大利政权保持均势的计划，只是一种令人愉快的乐观主义精神的假设，这种乐观主义精神比一个试验政策的轻率和佛罗伦萨的圭尔夫主义的迷信有过之而无不及，并一直坚持往最好处着想。当“豪华者”洛伦佐对那不勒斯的费兰特和教皇西克塔斯四世作战，路易十一世向他提供援助时，他回答说：“我不能把自己的利益置于全意大利的安全之上，但愿在这个国家尝试他们力量的想法从未进入过法兰西国王们的头脑中！要是他们这样做，意大利就完了。”对于其他君主，法兰西国王是轮流吓唬他们自己和他们的敌人的鬼怪，每当他们看到再也没有可行的办法来走出困境时，他们就威胁着要把他召来。在教皇们这方面，则幻想他们可以利用法兰西而对自己没有任何危险，甚至英诺森八世也想象他可以撤退到北方生气，然后从那里率领一支法兰西军队作为征服者返回意大利。

的确，有思想的人在查理八世远征之前很久就预见了外国的征服。当查理再次回到阿尔卑斯山的那一边时，每个人都清楚地看到一个干涉的时代已经开始。这时不幸一个个纷至沓来；法兰西和西班牙这两个主要侵略者，已经成为欧洲的强大政权，他们已不再满足于口头上的效忠，而是拼死争夺在意大利的势力和领土，人们对此明白得太晚了。他们已经开始变得和意大利的中央集权国家相似，实际上是开始模仿它们，只不过是放大比例地模仿。吞并领土或交换领土的计划一时间无限增多。其结果，如大家所熟知，是西班牙的完全胜利，它就像反宗教改革的剑和盾一样，长期使教廷位列它的其他附属国之中。哲学家们的悲叹只能向他们表明，那些引狼入室的人都没有好下场。

在同一时期，和土耳其人结成的联盟也毫无顾忌或掩饰；这一做法被认为不比任何其他政治上的权宜之计更糟糕。西方基督教界团结的信仰在十字军东征过程的不同时期被严重动摇过，弗雷德里克二世也许已经摆脱了这种信仰。但是，东方各民族新近的发展和希腊帝国的危急与灭亡在整个西欧又重燃旧日的感情，虽然它不如以前强烈。然而，意大利对此却是个惊人的例外。尽管对土耳其人和来自他们的实际危险怀有极大的恐惧，但是几乎没有一个举足轻重的政府不和穆罕默德二世及其继承者们共同密谋反对意大利其他国家的。即使他们没有这样做，人们仍然相信它们这样做了；这种恶行也敌不过派间谍在威尼斯的贮水池里下毒，这是对那不勒斯国王阿尔方索的继承者们的指控。对于西吉斯蒙多·马拉泰斯达那样的恶棍，人们不能期待他会做出比竟然召土耳其人进入意大利更好的事情来。但是我们读到，穆罕默德在其他意大利政府，尤其是威尼斯的怂恿下，曾经从其手中强夺了奥特朗托（1480年）的那不勒斯的阿拉戈纳君主们，后来也煽动苏丹巴雅泽特二世反对威尼斯人。对于洛德维科·伊·摩洛也有同样的指控。“在土耳其人手中被害者的鲜血和囚犯们的凄惨境遇，都在呼吁上帝报复他。”国史编撰者说。在政府能够得知一切消息的威尼斯，大家都知道，佩札罗的统治者，摩尔的表兄弟乔万尼·斯福查曾经招待去米兰途中的土耳其大使们。十五世纪的教皇们中间最受人尊敬的两位，尼古拉五世和庇护二世，因土耳其人的势力发展感到深深的悲痛而死去，的确，后者是在希望亲自率领十字军东征的准备中死去的；他们的继承者们贪污了基督教界为此目的而捐献的财物，并把作为回报而颁发的赎罪券降为私人的商业投机买卖。英诺森八世为了获得逃亡者迪姆王子的兄弟巴雅泽特二世所付的报酬，同意把迪姆王子关进监狱做其看守；而亚历山大六世支持在君士坦丁堡的洛德维科·伊·摩洛所采取的推进土耳其对威尼斯攻击的措施（1498年），因此威尼斯用召开宗教会议来威胁他。很明显，弗朗西斯一世和苏里曼二世之间臭名昭著的联盟并不是什么新鲜事或者前所未闻的事。

确实，我们发现这样的例子：在全体居民看来，整体归顺土耳其人似乎并不是特别的罪恶。即使它只是作为对于压迫人民的政府的一种威胁而被提出，那也至少证明这种想法已被大家所熟知。早在1480年，巴蒂斯塔·曼托万诺就使我们清楚地明白亚德里亚海岸的大部分居民预见到这种事情，尤其安科那渴望发生这种事。当罗马涅遭受列奥十世的压迫统治时，拉文纳的一个代表公开对罗马教皇的使者，枢机主教朱利奥·美第奇说：“主教大人，尊敬的威尼斯共和国因怕和教皇的争端不会接受我们；但是，如果土耳其人来到腊古扎，我们将把自己置于他们掌控下。”

对于当时西班牙人开始的对于意大利的奴役来说，这是一种可怜却并非毫无根据的安慰，至少这个国家免去了等待其在土耳其统治下要堕入的原始野蛮状态。尽管它已四分五裂，但靠它自身的力量几乎不可能逃脱这一命运。

有着所有这些弊端，如果说这一时期意大利政治家的才能还有值得我们称赞之处，那只是由于它对那些不受恐惧、激情或恶意影响的问题的切合实际而无成见的处理。这里没有效仿北方风气对各种权利进行人为规划的封建制度；有的只是每一个人所拥有的像在理论上一样在实践中所持有的权力。这里没有侍从贵族在君主头脑中培养中世纪的会产生各种奇怪后果的荣誉感；而是君主们和顾问官员们根据特殊事件的紧急状态和他们心中的目的采取一致的行动。对于那些不管来自何处的效劳同盟者的人，不会对有可能疏远支持者的特权阶级有自豪感；出身无足轻重的雇佣兵队长这一阶层的存在，足以清楚表明真正的权力掌握在哪种人手中；最后，开明的暴君手中的政府，有着同时代北方诸国无可比拟的对本国和邻邦的准确了解，并且能够最精确地估计友邦和敌国经济上和道义上的能力。那些统治者，虽有严重错误，但都是统计科学与生俱来的大师。与这样的一些人一起，谈判是可能的；可以设想，当把实际的理由摆在他们面前时，他们是会被说服的，并且他们的观点也会被修改。当那不勒斯伟大的阿尔方索成为菲利波·马利亚·维斯康提的阶下囚时（1434年），他能够使监禁他的人相信：安茹家族在那不勒斯的统治而不是他自己的统治将使法兰西人成为意大利的主人；菲利波·马利亚没要赎金就释放了他，并和他结成联盟。一个北方的君主几乎不会做出同样的事情，道德观念在其他方面像维斯康提的君主当然也不会。对于注重自身利益的巨大信心表现在“豪华者”洛伦佐对背信弃义的那不勒斯的费兰特访问中——费兰特当然想要囚禁他，并且这样做绝不是过于审慎——，这次访问令佛罗伦萨人普遍感到震惊。因为拘捕一个强大的君主，勒令他签字要不然就侮辱他，然后再释放，就像“大胆者”查理在佩龙纳对路易十一所为（1468年），对于意大利人来说，似乎是一种疯狂的举动；因此人们预计洛伦佐载誉归来，要不然就是一去不返。政治说服的艺术，在此时，被提到一定的高度——尤其是被威尼斯的大使们——北方各民族首次从意大利人那里获得一种概念，并且正式的演说提供了一个极不完全的观点。这些演说只不过是人文主义者的辞令。外交中虽另有客气的礼节，但在必要时，也不乏粗暴而率直的讲话。像马基雅维利那样的一个人在他的《使节》中是以一种悲哀的色彩出现的。尽管得到有限的指示，装备又很寒酸，并且被看作是一个地位卑下的代表，但他绝没有失去他自由而广泛的观察力或是喜爱生动逼真的描写的才能。

这本书将专门有一部分讨论对于作为个人和作为民族的人的研究，这一研究在意大利人中间是和对于人类生活的外部状况的研究相互联系的。

第八章　战争艺术

这里必须简要地说明，战争艺术是采取什么步骤而表现出一种深思熟虑的产物的特点。所有的西方国家，中世纪时对个别兵士的训练在当时普遍的攻守体系的范围内是很完备的。在围攻和筑城设防的艺术方面，也并不缺乏机智灵巧的发明家。但是，战略和战术两方面的发展却受到了军队中服役的性质和期限以及贵族们的野心的阻碍，这些贵族们大敌当前却争论地位的优先问题，并且只是缺少纪律而招致了像克雷西和莫佩提乌斯那样伟大战役的失败。相反，意大利是第一个采取需要一种完全不同的组织的雇佣兵制度的国家；并且较早引进火器促使战争成为平民的事务，这不仅是因为最坚固的城堡也抵挡不住炮轰，而且也是因为工程师、枪炮铸造师和炮手们——这些属于贵族以外的另一个阶层的人们——的技术当时在战役中最重要。让人感到遗憾的是，过去曾经是这个小而组织良好的雇佣兵队伍灵魂的个人价值，将会遭到这些在远处发挥作用的新手段的破坏；有些雇佣兵队长至少是极端反对对最近在德意志发明的步枪的引进的。我们读到保罗·维特利，当他认得大炮并自己使用时，他挖掉了敌军战俘“火枪手”的眼睛，砍掉了他们的手，因为他认为，一个勇敢的、也许是高贵的骑士，被一个平凡卑贱的步卒所杀伤是可耻的。然而总的来说，这些新发现直到意大利人在建筑防御工事和攻打它们的方法两方面成为全欧洲的导师时才被接受和采用。像乌尔比诺的菲德利哥和费拉拉的阿尔方索那样的君主都精通这一科目，与此相比，就连马克西米利安一世的知识也显得很肤浅。在意大利，早于其他地方，有一种全面的军事科学和技术；在这里，第一次，只有很强的指挥才能本身才受到大家无偏见的喜爱，确实，这一指挥才能也许是由于党派的频繁更换和雇佣兵队长完全感情用事的情绪所产生的。在1451年和1452年发生在弗兰切斯科·斯福查和亚科波·皮奇尼诺之间的米兰与威尼斯战争期间，学者吉安·安托尼奥·波尔切洛·德·潘多尼参加了后者的指挥总部，他受那不勒斯的阿尔方索的委派，撰写这一战役的报告。这个报告是用虽不是最纯粹却很流畅的拉丁文写的，有点过于追求当时人文主义的夸张风格，它模仿凯撒的《高卢战记》，一些演讲词、奇闻怪事之类散布其间。在此之前的一百年以来，人们一直认真地争论西庇阿·阿非利加奴斯和汉尼拔谁更伟大，皮奇尼诺在全书中偏偏被称为西庇阿，而斯福查偏被称为汉尼拔。但是关于米兰的军队也得写一些正面的事情；这位博学者参见了斯福查，由他陪同检视了军队，高度称赞他所看到的一切，并答应把它写下来传诸后代。除了他，当时意大利的作品对于战争和战略手段的描述也很丰富，这些作品不仅供专业人士而且也为受一般教育的人士阅读使用。而同时代北方人的记叙，如迪博尔德·席林所著《勃艮第战争》则仍然保留纯编年史的平铺直叙、就事论事、枯燥乏味的特点。最伟大的军事艺术爱好者马基雅维利当时正忙于创作他的《战争艺术》，他曾以军事爱好者的身份进行创作。但是，士兵个人的发展在一对或者多对决斗者的公开而严肃的决斗中得到了最充分的体现，这种决斗早在著名的“巴尔莱达挑战”（1503年）之前很久就有了。胜利者得到保证会获得诗人和学者的赞扬，而北方的战士则得不到。这些决斗的结果不再被看作是上帝的判决，而被看作是个人才能的胜利，并且在旁观者的心中，它似乎既是一场激烈竞争的裁决，也是一种军队或国家荣誉的满足感。

很显然，这种对于战争事务的纯粹理性的处理方式，即使没有强烈的政治仇恨，但在某些情况下，如已答应部队可以劫掠城市时，就会产生最残暴的恶行。斯福查曾被迫准许他的士兵抢劫皮亚琴察（1447年），这个市镇经过四十天的蹂躏后，长期无人居住，最后不得不用武力强迫人们迁来居住。然而像这样的暴行比之后来由外国军队，特别是西班牙军队所带给意大利的悲惨命运算不了什么。在这些西班牙人身上，或许是些许的东方人的血液，或者是对异端裁判所场面的熟悉，竟释放出人类天性中魔鬼的一面。在看到他们在普拉托、罗马和其他地方的所作所为之后，很难对“天主教徒”斐迪南和查理五世产生任何更大的兴趣，他们知道这是什么样的游牧人群，然而却不加约束。从这些统治者的密室里逐渐曝光的大批文献材料，将永远是历史资料的重要来源；但从这样的人身上不可能期盼会产生任何政治概念的硕果。

第九章　罗马教皇政府

罗马教会的教皇政府和领地是这样奇怪的产物，以至于我们到目前为止，在确定意大利城市国家的一般特点时，只是偶尔提到过它们。其他国家极感兴趣的对于政治计谋的审慎选择和改变适应，我们在罗马却很少看到；因为在这里，宗教权力经常能够掩盖或弥补世俗权力的缺陷。在十四世纪和十五世纪初，当教皇被带到阿维尼翁监禁起来时，这个国家经历了像火炙烤般的多么严峻的考验啊！起初，一切都陷于混乱之中，但教皇有金钱、军队和一位伟大的政治家兼将军——西班牙人阿尔沃诺斯，他重新使这个教会国家完全顺服。在教会分立时，这个国家所面临的最终解体的危险更大，那时罗马教皇和法国教皇双方都没有充足的财力重新征服新近丢失的国家；但这在罗马教会恢复统一之后，在马丁五世时做到了，而在又一次面临同样的危险时，又在尤金尼斯四世时做到了。但是这个教会国家在意大利的各个政权当中一直是个完全异常的国家；在罗马本城及其附近，教皇正遭到科伦纳、奥尔西尼、萨维利和安吉拉拉等大家族的公然反抗；在翁布里亚、边境地区、罗马涅和那些市民共和国——教皇政府对于它们的忠诚一直以来没有什么感激——已经几乎不存在了；它们已经被一群大大小小的君主王朝所取代，这些王朝的忠诚和服从并不重要。作为靠自身的能力而自我独立的政权，它们只关注自己；从这一点来看，它们之中最重要的王朝我们已讨论过。

尽管如此，也几乎不能省却对教皇政府作几句一般的评述。在十五世纪的过程中，新的奇怪的危险和考验降临到这个国家，因为这个民族的政治精神开始在各方面控制它，并且把它拉进自己的活动范围内。这些危险中最次要的来自人民或来自外国；最严重的根植于教皇们自身的性格。

此刻，让我们先撇开阿尔卑斯山那一边的国家不论。当教皇政府在意大利面临致命危险时，它没有也不可能从当时路易十一统治下的法兰西，或者从被玫瑰战争牵涉很大精力的英格兰，或者从当时秩序混乱的西班牙王国，或者从新近在巴塞尔宗教会议上被出卖的德意志获得最小的帮助。在意大利本国，有一些受过教育，甚至没受过教育的人们，他们的民族虚荣心因教皇政府的意大利性质而感到荣幸；许多人的个人利益取决于教皇政府具有和保持这种性质；广大的人民群众仍然信仰教皇赐福和授任圣职的功德；其中像维特洛佐·维特利那样臭名昭著的罪人，在教皇的儿子令人把他绞死的时候，还在祈求亚历山大六世赦免他的罪恶。但是，就是把所有这些同情的理由加在一起，也不足以从敌人手中拯救教皇政府，要是后者真正认真起来，并且知道怎样利用人们对这个制度的妒忌和仇恨的话。

就在指望外援如此渺茫的时候，在教皇政府内部出现了最危险的症状，像它此时这样，以世俗的意大利君主政府的精神生活做事，它就不能不像它们那样遭受同样阴暗的经历；但是，它自身特殊的本性给予这些阴影一抹特有的色彩。

就罗马这个城市本身而论，它内部的煽动力量微乎其微，如此众多的是被人民的骚动驱逐之后又回来的教皇，并且教廷驻在罗马对于罗马人的利益，意义如此重大。但是，罗马不仅有时候表现出一种明确的反教皇的急进主义，而且在当时所策划的最严重的阴谋中，表明有来自外部的无形操纵。斯蒂法诺·波尔卡罗反对尼古拉五世（1453年）——那位对这个城市的繁荣付出最多的教皇——的阴谋就是如此。波尔卡罗的目的是彻底推翻教皇的统治，他有杰出的同谋者，尽管他们的名字没有留传下来，但肯定能在当时意大利的国家政府里找到。就在这位教皇的任期内，洛伦佐·瓦拉以希望罗马教会国家快速世俗化，作为他那著名的反对君士坦丁礼物的慷慨激昂的演说的结论。

教皇庇护二世不得不与之斗争的卡提里那集团（1460年），同样坦率地公开宣称，他们决心推翻教士的政府，这个集团的领袖提伯吉奥把责任推在确定他那一年能实现愿望的占卜者身上。罗马的几个主要人物塔伦特君主、亚科波·皮奇尼诺雇佣兵队长都是提伯吉奥的同谋和支持者。确实，当我们想一想富有的高级教士的邸宅中所积聚的赃物——阴谋者尤其关注阿奎莱雅枢机主教——我们很惊讶，在一个几乎不设防的城市，这样的企图竟然没有更频繁、更成功。教皇庇护二世宁愿住在任何地方也不愿住在罗马，保罗二世则被置于极大的不安之中，因为一些被撤职的人在普拉提那的指挥下将梵蒂冈围困了二十天。要是教皇政权不根除那些贵族集团——这些抢劫帮派正是在其保护下才出头肇事的——它早晚一定会是这些阴谋活动的牺牲品。

这一任务由可怕的教皇西克塔斯四世承担起来。他是第一个把罗马和邻近地区完全置于他控制之下的教皇，特别是在击败了科伦纳家族以后，无论是在他的意大利政策上还是在教会的内部事务上，他都敢于以挑战的蛮横无理的态度行事，并蔑视来自欧洲各地的怨言和召集宗教裁判会议的威胁。他用买卖圣职的办法来获得他自己必需的钱款，这种买卖的范围之广一下子增加到闻所未闻的程度，从枢机主教的任命到最小恩惠的赐予无不如此。西克塔斯自己若不求助这种手段就不会得到教皇的高位。

如此普遍的腐败也许早晚会给罗马教廷带来灾难性后果，但是这还是不可知的未来之事。裙带关系就不是如此了，它一度产生了导致教皇政权彻底毁灭这样的威胁。在所有的“族亲”中，枢机主教彼埃得罗·利阿里奥起初享有西克塔斯主要，几乎是全部的宠爱。很快他就吸引了全意大利的目光，部分是由于他那极度奢华的生活，部分是由于有关他反对宗教和他政治计划的传言。他和米兰的加利佐·马利亚公爵商定（1473年），后者成为伦巴第国王，然后后者供以金钱和军队帮助他回到罗马，登上教皇的宝座；好像西克塔斯会自愿地向他屈服。这个计划，通过使教皇职位世袭制，最终会使这个教皇国家世俗化，但因彼埃得罗的突然去世而失败。第二个“族亲”吉罗拉谟·利阿里奥，一直是个俗世的人，没有寻求过教皇职位。从这个时候起，这些“族亲”因为要为自己建立世俗的君主国，变成了意大利混乱的新根源。教皇们甚至试图实现他们对那不勒斯所提出的封建权益的要求，以讨他们的欢心。但是，自从卡利克塔斯三世失败后，这样的计划不再可行了，吉罗拉谟·利阿里奥在征服佛罗伦萨（谁知道还有多少其他地方）的企图失败后，也不得不满足于在教皇领土范围内建立国家。罗马涅的君主们和城市暴君们威胁着要彻底摆脱教皇至高无上的权力，并且面临着很快变成斯福查或威尼斯人的猎物的危险，这时罗马出面阻止它，这样做被认为是正当的。但是，在这样的时刻和状况下，谁能保证已变成君主的“族亲”及其后人对于他们已不再在乎的教皇会继续服从呢？即使在教皇的一生中，他对于自己的儿子或侄子也并不总是有把握，因此驱逐前任教皇的“族亲”而代之以自己“族亲”的诱惑非常强烈。整个制度对于教皇政权本身的反作用具有最严重的性质；所有无论世俗的或者宗教的强制手段，为了道德上最不可靠的目的而被毫无顾忌地使用，教皇的所有其他目标相对于这些目的都被变成从属的了。当这些目的以革命和放逐无论什么样的代价达到的时候，一个只对毁灭教皇政权最感兴趣的王朝就建立了起来。

在西克塔斯去世的时候，吉罗拉谟只能靠他自己的最大努力和他妻子的娘家斯福查家族的帮助，来维持他篡夺的弗尔利和伊摩拉的世俗的君主政权。在西克塔斯去世之后的选举教皇会议上（1484年）——英诺森八世在此会议上当选——发生了一件似乎给教皇政权提供一个新的外部保障的事件。两个枢机主教，同时是统治家族的君主——费兰特国王的儿子阿拉戈纳的乔万尼和摩尔的兄弟阿斯卡尼奥·斯福查，最厚颜无耻地卖掉了他们的选票；因此，那不勒斯和米兰的统治家族，由于能够获得赃物，不管怎么说，对教皇制度的继续存在变得有兴趣。在下届选举教皇会议上，除五人外，当所有的枢机主教都出卖自己时，阿斯卡尼奥又一次获得巨额贿赂，但并未抱有在下一次选举中自己会成为被支持的候选人的希望。

至于“豪华者”洛伦佐，极力希望美第奇家族不要两手空空被发配远方。他把自己的女儿玛达丽娜嫁给新教皇——第一位公开承认自己有孩子的教皇——的儿子弗兰切斯克托·奇博，他不仅期望他自己的儿子枢机主教乔万尼，即后来的列奥十世能得到种种恩惠，而且也期望他的女婿能快速升迁。但关于后者，他的要求是不可能的事。在英诺森八世统治下，国家曾由其建立起来的蛮横鲁莽的裙带关系失去了任何机会，因为弗兰切斯克托自己是个卑劣的家伙，像他的父亲教皇一样，他寻求权力只是为了最卑下的目的聚敛钱财。然而，父亲和儿子施政的这种方式早晚一定会导致最后的大灾祸——国家的解体。要是西克塔斯是通过出售宗教的高位和恩典的办法来充实他的国库的话，那么至于英诺森和他的儿子，则是设立了一个出售世俗恩典的部门，这里高价出售对谋杀罪和屠杀罪的赦免。每一笔罚款中有一百五十金币付给教皇的国库，多出来的钱归给弗兰切斯克托。罗马，在这个教皇任期的后期，蜂拥着有执照的和没执照的暗杀者；西克塔斯曾开始压制的宗派集团又和以前一样活跃起来；在梵蒂冈受到很好保卫的教皇，对于时不时地设置一个陷阱，偶尔能捕获一个富有的犯罪者感到满意。对于弗兰切斯克托，主要问题是知道在教皇去世时能够用什么办法带着装得满满的宝箱逃跑。他最终在听到他父亲死亡的一个假报告时（1490年）暴露了自己，他企图带走教皇国库中所有的钱，当这证明是不可能的事时，他坚持无论如何土耳其的王子迪姆必须和他一起走，作为一个活资本，以备卖个好价钱，也许卖给那不勒斯的费兰特。很难估计遥远时期的政治可能性，但我们禁不住要问自己这个问题，罗马是否在这样的两三任教皇之后还能幸存下来。甚至对于欧洲信仰宗教的国家，让事情发展到了这种地步——不仅旅行者和朝圣者，而且罗马人的国王马克西米利安的整个使团人员，都在罗马的邻近地区被剥得只剩衬衫，并且使节们经常还没踏足城内就不得不转回来——也是非常鲁莽的。

这样的状况与激励着才华横溢的亚历山大六世（1492—1503年）的权力的概念和权力的乐趣是不相容的，他做的第一件事就是恢复公共秩序——至少是暂时恢复——和按时支付一切薪金。

严格地说，像我们现在正在讨论意大利文明的空话一样，既然波几亚家族和那不勒斯的家族同样都不是意大利人，这个教皇可以忽略不谈。亚历山大在公众场合和凯撒说西班牙语；露克瑞佳一进入费拉拉，就在那儿穿着西班牙服装，受到西班牙滑稽戏演员的歌唱欢迎；他们的心腹侍从，也像在1500年战争中凯撒最声名狼藉的军队一样，由西班牙人组成；甚至他的绞刑刽子手唐·米切莱托和他的下毒杀手塞瓦斯蒂安·平松·克里蒙尼斯似乎同样是西班牙籍。除其他成就外，凯撒以真正的西班牙方式在围起来的场地中按照斗牛术的规则杀死了六条野公牛。但是，在这个家族里似乎已达顶点的罗马的腐败，在他们来到这个城市时已经得到高度发展。

他们的为人以及所做的事情一直被经常而充分地描述着。他们的直接目的——实际上他们达到了——是彻底征服这个教皇国家。所有那些小暴君——其中大部分是教廷多少有点难以驾驭的封臣——都被驱逐或消灭了，就是在罗马城内，所谓的圭尔夫派的奥尔西尼以及所谓的吉伯林派的科伦纳这两个大宗派集团也被消灭了。但是，所采用的手段具有极为恐怖的性质，要不是父亲和儿子同时被毒死这件事的突然介入而改变了整个局势的面貌的话，这些手段当然会最终导致教皇政权的毁灭。基督教界道德上的愤慨对于亚历山大来说，当然不是招致危险的什么大不了的根源；在国内，他的力量足够强大，可以迫使人们恐惧和服从；外国统治者被争取到他那一边，路易十二甚至尽全力帮助他。整个欧洲的人民大众几乎想不出在中部意大利正在发生什么事。唯一真正充满危险的时刻——当查理八世在意大利的时候——意外幸运地过去了，就是在那时，也不是教皇政权处于如此的危险中，而是亚历山大有被一个更可尊敬的教皇所取代的危险。教皇政权巨大、永久和日益增长的危险存在于亚历山大本人，尤其是在他儿子凯撒·波几亚的身上。

在父亲的天性中，野心、贪婪、肉欲与坚强和才华横溢的品质结合在一起。所有来自权力和奢侈的享乐，从他教皇任期的第一天起，就最大部分地授予了自己。为达此目的，在手段的选择上，他毫无顾忌；人们马上知道了他会为他选举时所受的损失赔偿自己更多的钱财，并且卖者的买卖圣职罪将会远远超过买者的买卖圣职罪。必须记住，亚历山大先前所担任过的副财政大臣和其他职务已经教会他比教廷的任何其他成员对于各种收入来源都更熟悉，更能实际利用。早在1494年，一个白袍僧，热那亚的亚当——他曾经在罗马讲道攻击过买卖圣职一事——被发现被人谋杀在床上，身上有二十处伤。如果不付出巨额的金钱，几乎没有一个枢机主教能得到任命。

但是，当教皇逐渐受到儿子凯撒·波几亚影响的时候，他的暴力措施就呈现出那种必然对所追求目的起作用的凶暴残忍的性质。在和罗马的贵族以及罗马涅的暴君斗争中的所作所为，在背信弃义和野蛮程度方面甚至超过了世人所熟悉的那不勒斯的阿拉戈纳统治者们的措施；而那种欺诈天赋也更高一筹。凯撒孤立父亲，谋杀弟兄、姻弟兄和其他亲属或廷臣——或者是这些人得到教皇恩宠的时候，或者是他们在任何其他方面的地位于他不利的时候——所采用的方式，实在是骇人听闻。亚历山大被迫默许谋杀他最爱的儿子，甘底亚公爵，因为他自己每时每刻也都生活在对凯撒的恐惧中。

凯撒的最终目的是什么呢？就连在他暴政的最后几个月，当他已经在西尼加利亚谋杀了雇佣兵队长，并且实质上已是这个教皇国家的主人时（1503年），那些站在他左右的人们所给予的谦虚回答是，公爵只是希望镇压宗派集团和暴君们，所有这一切都只为了教廷的利益；至于公爵自己，除罗马涅的君主身份外，他别无所求，而且由于他为所有后来的教皇们除去了奥尔西尼和科伦纳两大家族，他已赢得了教皇们的感激。但是没人愿意承认这是他的最终目的。亚历山大教皇本人，当把他的儿子托付威尼斯保护时，在和威尼斯大使的讨论中，说得比这更透彻。“我要确保，”他说，“将来有一天教皇政府或者属于他，或者属于你们。”凯撒当然也加上一句，没有威尼斯的同意，没人能够成为教皇，为此目的，威尼斯的枢机主教们只好团结在一起。他指的是不是他自己，我们不能说；不管怎么样，他父亲的声明足以证明他的目的在于教皇的宝座。我们进一步从露克瑞佳·波几亚那里得到了一定数量的间接的证据，这是就埃科尔·斯特罗齐的诗中某些段落很可能反映了她作为费拉拉的女大公允许自己使用的表达而言。在这里，也主要谈到了凯撒对于教皇政权的希望；但是时不时地也暗示了他对全意大利最高统治权的期望；最后使我们了解到的是，作为世俗的统治者，凯撒的这些计划是最伟大的，为了这些计划，他先前放弃了他的枢机主教的职位。事实上，凯撒，在亚历山大死后是否被选为教皇，都打算不惜任何代价保有这个教皇国家；但是在他犯了所有这些重大罪行后，就是作为教皇他也不可能永久地保有这个国家，这一点不可能有任何疑问。如果有人，那也是他能够使教廷的国家世俗化，为了保住这些国家，他将不得不这样做。除非我们受到很大的欺骗，否则这就是马基雅维利对这个重大罪犯心怀隐秘同情的真正原因；只能希望凯撒，别无他人，“将从伤口中拔出剑来”，换句话说，就是消灭这个教皇政权——所有外国干涉和所有分裂意大利的根源。那些认为能揣测凯撒目的的阴谋者，当向凯撒提出托斯卡纳王国的希望时，好像是被轻蔑地打发走了。

但是，从他的这些前提中得出的所有符合逻辑的结论都是无效的，这不是因为他的不可理解的天才——事实上他具有的天才的特点和弗里德兰大公一样少；而是因为他采用的手段与任何大而始终如一的行动方针不一致。确实，如果没有终止他统治的意外事件的发生，也许在他的穷凶极恶中存在着拯救教皇政权的前景。

即使我们假定他在这个教皇国家中消灭那些小暴君，除收获同情外别无所得，即使我们把那支由意大利的最优秀的官兵所组成、由列奥那多·达·芬奇作总工程师、在1502年继承财富的军队作为他伟大计划的证明，其他事实仍具有如此一种无理性的特点，以至于我们的判断，像当时的观察家们的判断一样，完全不知道如何解释它们。这类事实之一就是凯撒对于新征服国家的蹂躏和虐待，而他仍想保有和统治它。另外一个事实就是这个教皇任期最后几十年的罗马和教廷的状况。无论是父子曾起草一份公布处死人员的正式名单，还是那些谋杀是一个一个被决定的，两种情况无论哪种，这对波几亚父子一心要秘密消灭所有那些挡道的或者觊觎其遗产的人。在这些遗产中，现金和动产构成最小的一部分，教皇更庞大的收益来源是：那些教会高级僧侣由于被杀死而停发的薪俸，在这些职位空缺期间的该项薪俸，还有这些被害者的继任者所填补的空缺职位的价钱。威尼斯大使保罗·卡佩洛在1500年宣称：“每夜都发现四五个被谋杀的人，这些人中有主教、高级教士和其他人，因此整个罗马都在颤抖，害怕被公爵（凯撒）消灭。”他自己常常带着卫士们夜间在罗马城内漫步，我们有一切理由相信他这样做不仅仅是因为像提贝留一样害怕在白天会暴露他此时令人厌恶的相貌；而且也是因为要满足他杀人嗜血的疯狂欲望，也许甚至是对那些他不认识的人下手。

早在1499年，绝望的情绪如此巨大、如此普遍，以至于许多教皇卫士们都遭伏击被杀死。而这对波几亚父子不能用公开的暴力来袭击的那些人，就成了他们毒药的牺牲品。对于有些需要慎重的情况，他们使用一种味道可口的白色粉末，这种粉末并不当场而是慢慢地、逐渐地起作用，并且能够放在任何菜肴或酒里而不被发现。迪姆王子在被亚历山大交付给查理八世（1495年）之前已经在一杯甜酒里喝下去一些。在这对波几亚父子事业的最后，他们由于偶然品尝了本来为一个富有的枢机主教准备的蜜饯而以这种粉末毒死了自己。教皇史的摘录史官乌诺弗利奥·潘维尼奥提到了三个奉亚历山大之命被毒死的枢机主教奥尔西尼、费雷里奥和米奇尔，并暗示还有第四个，即乔万尼·波几亚；而凯撒把他置于自己的控制之下——尽管也许富有的高级教士在当时很少有死在罗马而不引起这种怀疑的。就连那些已经离开罗马城退居到某个地方市镇潜心书斋的学者也逃不脱这种无情的毒杀。一种隐秘的恐怖似乎笼罩着教皇；穿透墙壁和卧室的风暴雷电，在早些时候经常光顾惊吓他；在1500年，当这些现象再次发生的时候，它们被认为是“魔鬼的故事”。关于这些事件的故事，最后好像是通过有众多人参加的1500年的大赦年纪念盛典，被广泛地远播到欧洲的所有国家；不需别的，只是那声名狼藉的赦罪券交易就足以让人把所有目光投向罗马。除了回国的朝圣者们，奇怪的白袍忏悔者也从意大利来到了北方，其中有来自这个教皇国家的伪装的逃亡者，他们不可能保持沉默。然而没人能估算出在这种流言蜚语和基督教界的愤慨变成亚历山大的紧急危险的根源之前，它们可能发展到了什么地步。潘维尼奥在别处说：“要不是他为儿子进行的伟大计划由于去世而终止，为了得到所有其他富有的枢机主教和高级教士的财产，他将会除掉这些人。”如果凯撒在他父亲去世时，自己没有卧病在床，他有什么不可能得到啊！那将是一个什么样的教皇秘密选举啊——他此时，全副武装，可以勒令由于他考虑周到地毒杀而人数减少的教皇选举团选举他——并且当时并没有法国军队在近旁！在做这样一种假设时，后果不堪设想。

这种假设没有发生，取而代之的是庇护三世当选的那次教皇秘密选举会议，并且，在他很快去世后，是优里乌斯二世当选的会议——这两次选举都是全体反应的结果。

不管优里乌斯二世的私人道德可能是什么样，从根本上说他是教皇政权的救世主。他对于自他叔父西克塔斯任教皇以来的各种事件的熟悉，使他对于教皇权威的根据和条件有着深刻的认识。基于这些根据和条件，他制定了自己的政策，并在这一政策上倾注他坚定意志的全部力量和热情。他不是通过买卖圣职的方法而是在全体赞成中登上教皇宝座的台阶，而且不管怎样，随后他停止了教廷最高职位的不加掩饰的买卖。优里乌斯有亲信，其中有一些是卑劣的，但是一种特殊的运气使他凌驾于“族亲”的诱惑之上。他的弟弟乔万尼·德拉·罗维里是乌尔比诺的女继承人——蒙特费尔特罗家族最后一代，圭多巴尔多的妹妹——的丈夫，他们结婚后在1491年生下一个儿子弗兰切斯科·马利亚·罗维里，他既是教皇的侄子同时又是乌尔比诺公爵爵位的继承人。优里乌斯在别处——或者是在战场上或者是以外交方式——得到的东西，他都自豪地赠给了教会而不是他的家族；他把他发现处于解体状态的教会领土遗赠给完全屈服于他的继承者，因而增加了新领土帕尔马和皮亚琴察。费拉拉没有被划入教廷版图并不是他的错。在圣安吉洛城堡中储存的七十万金币将会由地方长官只移交给未来的教皇。他使他自己成为枢机主教，事实上是所有在罗马去世的教士的财产继承人，并且这是通过最专制的手段做到的；但他没有谋杀或者毒死他们任何一个人。他在一个人在意大利被迫或者做锤子或者做铁砧的时代，在个性比最无可争议的权力更有力量的时代，亲自率领军队打仗，这对他来说是无可避免的需要，也为他带来诸多好处。如果说尽管他大声疾呼“把野蛮人赶出去！”，然而他又比任何人都对西班牙人在意大利扎下稳固的根基贡献更大，他可能认为这是一件对于教皇政权来说无关紧要的事，或者甚至，像当时的情况，是比较有利的事情。在意大利的君主们只热爱反对教廷渎圣计划的时代里，教廷对谁能够比对西班牙更快地寻求真诚而持久的尊敬呢？但尽管这样，他那种既不吞咽愤怒也不隐藏真正好意的强有力的独特本性，整体给人一种对于他的处境非常有利的印象——“好厉害的教皇”。他甚至能够比较敢于问心无愧地召集一个针对罗马的宗教会议，以公然蔑视全欧洲的反对派所提出的召开宗教会议的叫嚷。一个这种类型的统治者需要某个体现他的概念的伟大外部象征；优里乌斯在圣彼得大教堂的重建中找到了它。大教堂重建的计划，正像布拉曼特希望表现的，也许是能够想象的统一权力的最壮观表达。除建筑外，在其他艺术中，这个教皇的面貌和记忆也以其最理想的形式流传下来。并非毫无意义的是：就连当时的拉丁文诗篇也对优里乌斯表现出一种与对其前任们迥然不同的热情。在枢机主教阿德里安·达·科尔内多所作的《优里乌斯二世的旅程》一诗结尾，进入波洛尼亚城独具一种辉煌壮丽之感，乔万尼·安多尼奥·弗拉密尼奥在一篇最美好的挽歌里，呼吁这位教皇的爱国精神给意大利以保护。

在他的拉特兰宗教会议的章程中，优里乌斯庄严地痛斥教皇选举中的买卖圣职一事。在他1513年去世后，爱财的枢机主教们试图通过以下提议逃避这个禁令：当选的候选人目前为止所拥有的用于捐赠的资金和担任的职位应该在枢机主教们中间平分，这样，他们就会选举那位资产最多的枢机主教无能的拉斐尔·利阿里奥。但是，出现了一个主要来自神圣教皇选举团的较年轻成员们的反对力量，他们渴望一位自由开明的教皇，从而使这个可耻的计划没有成功。乔万尼·美第奇当选，即著名的列奥十世。

我们在讨论文艺复兴的全盛时期的时候将经常谈到他；在这里我们仅仅希望指出在他的统治下，教皇政权再一次遭受重大的国内外的危险。这些危险当中，我们不算佩特路奇、德·绍利斯、利阿里奥和科尔内多（1517年）这些枢机主教们的阴谋，这些阴谋最多偶尔带来人员的变化，并且对此列奥找到了真正的解药——创造性地任命了前所未闻的三十一个新枢机主教，这是一个带有附加优点的措施，至少在某些情况下，奖赏了真正的功绩。

但是，列奥在任职期间的前两年所允许自己踩踏的某些小径，危险到了极点。他认真地尽力通过谈判确保他的兄弟朱利亚诺得到那不勒斯王国，并确保他的侄子洛伦佐得到一个强大的北部意大利国家，由米兰、托斯卡纳、乌尔比诺和费拉拉组成。很显然，这个教皇国家，这样四面八方被围在里面，将会成为美第奇家族的一个附属国，并且事实上也没有进一步使其世俗化的必要。

这个计划在当时的政治状况下遇到了无法逾越的障碍。朱利亚诺很早去世了。为了给洛伦佐做准备，列奥着手从乌尔比诺驱逐弗兰切斯科·马利亚·德拉·罗维里公爵，但是从这个战争中除了仇恨和贫困，别无所得；并且，当1519年洛伦佐追随他的叔父进入坟墓时，列奥被迫把艰难赢得的占领地交给了教廷。他是被强制这样做的，因此并无荣誉，要是他自愿这样做，那将会是他不朽的光荣。他企图攻击费拉拉的阿尔方索，但实际上只攻击了少数小暴君和雇佣兵队长们，这件事肯定不能提高他的名声。并且这发生在一个西方君主越来越习惯于以意大利的这个省或那个省作赌注进行大规模政治赌博的时候。既然在最后几十年里他们在国内权力的增长如此巨大，谁能保证他们的野心不扩展到教廷属邦就会停止呢？列奥亲眼目睹了在1527年所实现的事情的序幕；在1520年底，几个西班牙的步兵队伍出现在教皇领土的边界——好像是他们做主——目的是强迫教皇付给占领军特别税，但是被教皇的军队赶回去了。公众反对僧侣统治腐败的情绪也在后来几年快速地达到顶点，像小皮科·德拉·米朗多拉那些放眼未来的人们迫切要求改革。与此同时，路德也已出现在历史舞台上。

在阿德里安六世（1522—1523年）的统治下，为伟大的德国宗教改革运动所实行的少数几个怯懦的改进来得太迟了。他对目前为止事态的发展，如买卖圣职、裙带关系、挥霍无度、抢劫掠夺和荒淫放荡，除声明表示极端厌恶外，几乎无所作为。从路德教徒那方面来的危险绝不是最大的；一个来自威尼斯的敏锐的观察家吉罗拉谟·尼格罗说出了他的恐惧——一个迅速而可怕的灾难就要降临罗马这个城市。

在克莱门七世的统治下，罗马的整个地平线上雾气氤氲，好像非洲风暴笼罩在坎帕尼亚地区的浅灰色沉重面纱，以致最后几个夏季几欲令人窒息而死。教皇在国内外均遭人痛恨。有识之士满心忧虑，隐士现身在罗马的街头和广场，预言意大利和世界的命运，并把教皇叫作“反基督者”；科伦纳宗派集团公然抬头；那个仅仅其存在对于教皇政权就是一个永久威胁的坚贞不屈的枢机主教蓬佩奥·科伦纳，在1526年冒险突然袭击了这个城市，希望克莱门被杀或被俘后，在查理五世的帮助下，立刻就能成为教皇。后者设法逃到了圣安吉洛城堡，这对罗马来说并非什么福气，并且他自己逃过这一劫的命运倒不如说比死亡更差。

由于一系列的只有强者敢于一试、却给弱者招致毁灭的谎话欺骗，克莱门招来了波旁和弗隆兹堡统帅下的德意志与西班牙军队的进犯（1527年）。可以肯定地说，查理五世内阁是打算给予他严重惩罚的，并且事前不能估算出没有薪饷、出身游牧部落的抢劫者的狂热会把他们带到多远。要不是众所周知罗马是这次远征的目标，想不给任何饷金在德意志征兵，就会是白费力气。给波旁的书面命令有一天可能被发现，这些书面命令还有可能被证明是措词温和的。但是，历史的批判不会允许自己被领入歧途。这个天主教国王和皇帝多亏他的运气，教皇和枢机主教们没有被他的军队杀害。要是此事发生的话，世界上任何诡辩都不能为他在这次犯罪中的责任开脱。对无数无足轻重的人们的大屠杀，对其余人们的劫掠，以及所有严刑拷打和买卖人口的恐怖，足以清楚表明在“罗马的劫掠”中可能发生的事情。

查理似乎本来希望从这个第二次逃到圣安吉洛城堡的教皇处勒索一大笔钱，然后把他带到那不勒斯的。克莱门逃到奥尔维多肯定没有得到西班牙方面的默许，这个皇帝是否曾认真考虑过人人都已为此做好准备的把教廷属邦世俗化，他是否真的是被英格兰的亨利八世的抗议所劝阻而没有这样做，也许绝不会弄明白了。

但是如果真有这样的计划，它们也不可能持续太久：从这个被蹂躏的城市中兴起了一种既改革教廷又改革这个国家的新精神。这种新精神马上被人感觉到了。枢机主教萨多莱托是许多见证人中的一个，他这样写道：

如果通过我们受苦能够偿还上帝的愤怒和正义，如果这些可怕的惩罚重新为更好的法律和道德开辟道路，那么我们的不幸也许不是最大的……属于上帝的，他将给予照顾；在我们面前是一种改革的生活，任何暴力都不能从我们手中夺走。让我们管控我们的行为和思想吧，以便只有在上帝那里寻求教会全体教士的真正荣光和我们自己真正的伟大和力量。

事实上，1527年这个生死存亡的一年，目前来说有个成果：持重的人们能够重新使他们的声音得以倾听。罗马所遭受的苦难如此深重，甚至在保罗三世的统治下，也不能回归到列奥十世的那种放荡腐败的状况。

教皇政府在它的苦难如此深重的时候开始激发出一种半宗教半政治的同情。国王们不能容忍他们中有人僭取教皇监禁犯人的权利，因而订立了《亚眠条约》（1527年8月18日），目的之一就是释放克莱门。因此，无论如何，他们要利用帝国军队的行为所引起的公众的反感。同时，皇帝甚至在西班牙也遇到大麻烦，在那里高级教士和贵族们一见他就提出最迫切的劝谏。当计划着由僧侣和世俗人组成、全体穿丧服的总代表团时，查理害怕像几年前镇压的暴动一样会引起乱子，就禁止了这一计划。他不仅不敢延长对教皇的虐待，而且，甚至除了对国外政治的所有考虑，他绝对是被迫与他曾如此严重伤害过的教皇政府和解。因为肯定与他背道而驰的德意志人的性格，在他看来像一般德意志的事情一样，不能作为制订一项政策的基础。也有可能，像一个威尼斯人所坚持的，罗马劫掠这个负担的记忆沉重地压在他的良心上，他倾向于快速抵罪，这种想法掩藏在佛罗伦萨人永久臣服于美第奇家族这件事中。教皇的“族亲”，新位的公爵阿利桑德罗·美第奇娶了皇帝的私生女。

在随后的岁月中，一次宗教会议的方案使查理能够在所有基本问题上把教皇政府置于自己的控制下，同时既保护它又压迫它。所有危险中最大的危险——世俗化——这一来自教皇政府内部，来自教皇们自己本身和他们的“族亲”的危险，由于德国宗教改革运动而中止了数个世纪。正像这个危险本身曾使反对罗马（1527年）的远征成为可能并获得成功一样，这一危险也迫使教皇政权重新变成全世界宗教力量的表现，把它自己从所处的卑鄙的堕落状态中提升到处于这一改革运动的所有反动势力的领导者的地位。克莱门七世任期中的后来数年，以及在保罗三世、保罗四世及其继任者们的统治时期，面临半个欧洲的背叛而有所发展的教会是一个新的、得到提高的僧侣统治，它避免了先前时代所有重大而危险的丑行，尤其是企图扩张领土以及与天主教君主们结盟的“裙带关系”，现在它被一种新生的宗教力量所推动，把主要工作放在恢复已失去的事情上。它当时只是在反对宗教分离者中才存在下来，也才为现在的人们所理解。在这个意义上能够完全正确地说，教皇政权的精神拯救应归功于它的俗世的敌人。这时它的政治地位，尽管肯定是在西班牙的永久监护之下，也变得十分稳固；几乎没费力气，在它的附庸国灭亡时，它就继承了伊斯特和德拉·罗维里家族，即费拉拉和乌尔比诺的公国的合法世系。但是，没有这一宗教改革运动，整个教皇国家早就会传到世俗手中。

第十章　爱国主义精神

总之，让我们简要考虑一下这些政治状况对于这个民族精神上一般的影响。

显然，十四世纪和十五世纪期间意大利所存在的一般政治上的不稳定，是一种能够激发当时比较优秀的人物心中出于爱国心的厌恶和反对情绪。但丁和皮特拉克在他们的时代大声宣告一个共同的意大利——她所有儿女们最崇高的奋斗目标。也许有人反对说，这只是少数受过高等教育的人们的热情，人民群众与此无缘；但是甚至在德意志也是如此，虽然至少在名义上那个国家是统一的，并承认皇帝是一个最高元首。德国文学作品中爱国主义感情的最初表达，如果我们排除“行吟诗人”的某些诗歌，属于马克西米利安一世及其以后时代的人文主义者们，这些作品读起来像意大利慷慨激昂雄辩的回响。然而，事实上自罗马时代起，德意志很久以前就比意大利更是一个具有真正意义的国家。法兰西的国家统一的意识主要归功于和英吉利人的冲突，而西班牙从未永久成功地吞并过葡萄牙，尽管两国关系密切。对于意大利，这个教皇国家的存在及其所赖以继续下去的条件，是意大利国家统一的永久的障碍，一个似乎无望消除的障碍。因此，当十五世纪的政治交往中，共同的祖国这个名字有时被着重提到时，它在大多数的情况下会引起其他意大利国家的不快。直到后来才又听到对于民族感情的极其严肃而又怀着深深悲哀的呼吁，那时统一的时机已成为过去，当时这个国家到处是法兰西人和西班牙人。地方爱国主义的意识在某种程度上也可以说已经取代了这种感情，尽管前者只是这种感情的一种可怜的等价物。

Jacob Burckhardt
The State as a Work of Art

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

Introduction

This work bears the title of an essay in the strictest sense of the word. No one is more conscious than the writer with what limited means and strength he has addressed himself to a task so arduous. And even if he could look with greater confidence upon his own researches, he would hardly thereby feel more assured of the approval of competent judges. To each eye, perhaps, the outlines of a given civilization present a different picture; and in treating of a civilization which is the mother of our own, and whose influence is still at work among us, it is unavoidable that individual judgement and feeling should tell every moment both on the writer and on the reader. In the wide ocean upon which we venture, the possible ways and directions are many; and the same studies which have served for this work might easily, in other hands, not only receive a wholly different treatment and application, but lead also to essentially different conclusions. Such indeed is the importance of the subject, that it still calls for fresh investigation, and may be studied with advantage from the most varied points of view. Meanwhile we are content if a patient hearing is granted us, and if this book be taken and judged as a whole. It is the most serious difficulty of the history of civilization that a great intellectual process must be broken up into single, and often into what seem arbitrary categories, in order to be in any way intelligible. It was formerly our intention to fill up the gaps in this book by a special work on the art of the Renaissance — an intention, however, which we have been able to fulfil only in part. The struggle between the popes and the Hohenstaufen left Italy in a political condition which differed essentially from that of other countries of the West. While in France, Spain and England the feudal system was so organized that, at the close of its existence, it was naturally transformed into a unified monarchy, and while in Germany it helped to maintain, at least outwardly, the unity of the empire, Italy had shaken it off almost entirely. The emperors of the fourteenth century, even in the most favourable case, were no longer received and respected as feudal lords, but as possible leaders and supporters of powers already in existence; while the papacy, with its creatures and allies, was strong enough to hinder national unity in the future, not strong enough itself to bring about that unity. Between the two lay a multitude of political units — republics and despots — in part of long standing, in part of recent origin, whose existence was founded simply on their power to maintain it. In them for the first time we detect the modern political spirit of Europe, surrendered freely to its own instincts, often displaying the worst features of an unbridled egotism, outraging every right, and killing every germ of a healthier culture. But, wherever this vicious tendency is overcome or in any way compensated, a new fact appears in history — the state as the outcome of reflection and calculation, the state as a work of art. This new life displays itself in a hundred forms, both in the republican and in the despotic states, and determines their inward constitution, no less than their foreign policy. We shall limit ourselves to the consideration of the completer and more clearly defined type, which is offered by the despotic states.

The internal condition of the despotically governed states had a memorable counterpart in the Norman empire of Lower Italy and Sicily, after its transformation by the emperor Frederick II. Bred amid treason and peril in the neighbourhood of the Saracens, Frederick, the first ruler of the modern type who sat upon a throne, had early accustomed himself to a thoroughly objective treatment of affairs. His acquaintance with the internal condition and administration of the Saracenic states was close and intimate; and the mortal struggle in which he was engaged with the papacy compelled him, no less than his adversaries, to bring into the field all the resources at his command. Frederick's measures (especially after the year 1231) are aimed at the complete destruction of the feudal state, at the transformation of the people into a multitude destitute of will and of the means of resistance, but profitable in the utmost degree to the exchequer. He centralized, in a manner hitherto unknown in the West, the whole judicial and political administration. No office was henceforth to be filled by popular election, under penalty of the devastation of the offending district and of the enslavement of its inhabitants. The taxes, based on a comprehensive assessment, and distributed in accordance with Muhammadan usages, were collected by those cruel and vexatious methods without which, it is true, it is impossible to obtain any money from Orientals. Here, in short, we find, not a people, but simply a disciplined multitude of subjects, who were forbidden, for example, to marry out of the country without special permission, and under no circumstances were allowed to study abroad. The university of Naples was the first we know of to restrict the freedom of study, while the East, in these respects at all events, left its youth unfettered. It was after the example of Muhammadan rules that Frederick traded on his own account in all parts of the Mediterranean, reserving to himself the monopoly of many commodities, and restricting in various ways the commerce of his subjects. The Fatimite Caliphs, with all their esoteric unbelief, were, at least in their earlier history, tolerant of all the differences in the religious faith of their people; Frederick, on the other hand, crowned his system of government by a religious inquisition, which will seem the more reprehensible when we remember that in the persons of the heretics he was persecuting the representatives of a free municipal life. Lastly, the internal police, and the kernel of the army for foreign service, was composed of Saracens who had been brought over from Sicily to Nocera and Lucera — men who were deaf to the cry of misery and careless of the ban of the Church. At a later period the subjects, by whom the use of weapons had long been forgotten, were passive witnesses of the fall of Manfred and of the seizure of the government by Charles of Anjou; the latter continued to use the system which he found already at work.

At the side of the centralizing emperor appeared a usurper of the most peculiar kind: his vicar and son-in-law, Ezzelino da Romano. He stands as the representative of no system of government or administration, for all his activity was wasted in struggles for supremacy in the eastern part of Upper Italy; but as a political type he was a figure of no less importance for the future than his imperial protector Frederick. The conquests and usurpations which had hitherto taken place in the Middle Ages rested on real or pretended inheritance and other such claims, or else were effected against unbelievers and excommunicated persons. Here for the first time the attempt was openly made to found a throne by wholesale murder and endless barbarities, by the adoption, in short, of any means with a view to nothing but the end pursued. None of his successors, not even Cesare Borgia, rivalled the colossal guilt of Ezzelino; but the example once set was not forgotten, and his fall led to no return of justice among the nations, and served as no warning to future transgressors.

It was in vain at such a time that St Thomas Aquinas, a born subject of Frederick, set up the theory of a constitutional monarchy, in which the prince was to be supported by an upper house named by himself, and a representative body elected by the people. Such theories found no echo outside the lecture-room, and Frederick and Ezzelino were and remain for Italy the great political phenomena of the thirteenth century. Their personality, already half legendary, forms the most important subject of The Hundred Old Tales, whose original composition falls certainly within this century. In them Ezzelino is spoken of with the awe which all mighty impressions leave behind them. His person became the centre of a whole literature from the chronicle of eye-witnesses to the half-mystical tragedy of later poets.

Despots of the Fourteenth Century

The tyrannies, great and small, of the fourteenth century afford constant proof that examples such as these were not thrown away. Their misdeeds cried forth loudly and have been circumstantially told by historians. As states depending for existence on themselves alone, and scientifically organized with a view to this object, they present to us a higher interest than that of mere narrative.

The deliberate adaptation of means to ends, of which no prince out of Italy had at that time a conception, joined to almost absolute power within the limits of the state, produced among the despots both men and modes of life of a peculiar character. The chief secret of government in the hands of the prudent ruler lay in leaving the incidence of taxation so far as possible where he found it, or as he had first arranged it. The chief sources of income were: a land tax, based on a valuation; definite taxes on articles of consumption and duties on exported and imported goods; together with the private fortune of the ruling house. The only possible increase was derived from the growth of business and of general prosperity. Loans, such as we find in the free cities, were here unknown; a well-planned confiscation was held a preferable means of raising money, provided only that it left public credit unshaken — an end attained, for example, by the truly oriental practice of deposing and plundering the director of the finances.

Out of this income the expenses of the little court, of the bodyguard, of the mercenary troops, and of the public buildings were met, as well as of the buffoons and men of talent who belonged to the personal attendants of the prince. The illegitimacy of his rule isolated the tyrant and surrounded him with constant danger; the most honourable alliance which he could form was with intellectual merit, without regard to its origin. The liberality of the northern princes of the thirteenth century was confined to the knights, to the nobility which served and sang. It was otherwise with the Italian despot. With his thirst for fame and his passion for monumental works, it was talent, not birth, which he needed. In the company of the poet and the scholar he felt himself in a new position, almost, indeed in possession of a new legitimacy.

No prince was more famous in this respect than the ruler of Verona, Can Grande della Scala, who numbered among the illustrious exiles whom he entertained at his court representatives of the whole of Italy. The men of letters were not ungrateful. Petrarch, whose visits at the courts of such men have been so severely censured, sketched an ideal picture of a prince of the fourteenth century. He demands great things from his patron, the lord of Padua, but in a manner which shows that he holds him capable of them.

Thou must not be the master but the father of thy subjects, and must love them as thy children; yea, as members of thy body. Weapons, guards and soldiers thou mayest employ against the enemy — with thy subjects goodwill is sufficient. By citizens, of course, I mean those who love the existing order; for those who daily desire change are rebels and traitors, and against such a stern justice may take its course.

Here follows, worked out in detail, the purely modern fiction of the omnipotence of the state. The prince is to take everything into his charge, to maintain and restore churches and public buildings, to keep up the municipal police, to drain the marshes, to look after the supply of wine and corn; so to distribute the taxes that the people can recognize their necessity; he is to support the sick and the helpless, and to give his protection and society to distinguished scholars, on whom his fame in after ages will depend.

But whatever might be the brighter sides of the system, and the merits of individual rulers, yet the men of the fourteenth century were not without a more or less distinct consciousness of the brief and uncertain tenure of most of these despotisms. Inasmuch as political institutions like these are naturally secure in proportion to the size of the territory in which they exist, the larger principalities were constantly tempted to swallow up the smaller. Whole hecatombs of petty rulers were sacrificed at this time to the Visconti alone. As a result of this outward danger an inward ferment was in ceaseless activity; and the effect of the situation on the character of the ruler was generally of the most sinister kind. Absolute power, with its temptations to luxury and unbridled selfishness, and the perils to which he was exposed from enemies and conspirators, turned him almost inevitably into a tyrant in the worst sense of the word. Well for him if he could trust his nearest relations! But where all was illegitimate, there could be no regular law of inheritance, either with regard to the succession or to the division of the ruler's property; and consequently the heir, if incompetent or a minor, was liable in the interest of the family itself to be supplanted by an uncle or cousin of more resolute character. The acknowledgement or exclusion of the bastards was a fruitful source of contest; and most of these families in consequence were plagued with a crowd of discontented and vindictive kinsmen. This circumstance gave rise to continual outbreaks of treason and to frightful scenes of domestic bloodshed. Sometimes the pretenders lived abroad in exile, and like the Visconti, who practised the fisherman's craft on the Lake of Garda, viewed the situation with patient indifference. When asked by a messenger of his rival when and how he thought of returning to Milan, one gave the reply, 'By the same means as those by which I was expelled, but not till his crimes have outweighed my own.' Sometimes, too, the despot was sacrificed by his relations, with the view of saving the family, to the public conscience which he had too grossly outraged. In a few cases the government was in the hands of the whole family, or at least the ruler was bound to take their advice; and here, too, the distribution of property and influence often led to bitter disputes.

The whole of this system excited the deep and persistent hatred of the Florentine writers of that epoch. Even the pomp and display, with which the despot was perhaps less anxious to gratify his own vanity than to impress the popular imagination, awakened their keenest sarcasm. Woe to an adventurer if he fell into their hands, like the upstart Doge Agnello of Pisa (1364), who used to ride out with a golden sceptre, and show himself at the window of his house, 'as relics are shown', reclining on embroidered drapery and cushions, served like a pope or emperor, by kneeling attendants. More often, however, the old Florentines speak on this subject in a tone of lofty seriousness. Dante saw and characterized well the vulgarity and commonplace which marked the ambition of the new princes. 'What mean their trumpets and their bells, their horns and their flutes; but come, hangman — come, vultures?' The castle of the tyrant, as pictured by the popular mind, is a lofty and solitary building, full of dungeons and listening-tubes, the home of cruelty and misery. Misfortune is foretold to all who enter the service of the despot, who even becomes at last himself an object of pity: he must needs be the enemy of all good and honest men; he can trust no one, and can read in the faces of his subjects the expectation of his fall. 'As despotisms rise, grow, and are consolidated, so grows in their midst the hidden element which must produce their dissolution and ruin.' But the deepest ground of dislike has not been stated; Florence was then the scene of the richest development of human individuality, while for the despots no other individuality could be suffered to live and thrive but their own and that of their nearest dependants. The control of the individual was rigorously carried out, even down to the establishment of a system of passports.

The astrological superstitions and the religious unbelief of many of the tyrants gave, in the minds of their contemporaries, a peculiar colour to this awful and Godforsaken existence. When the last Carrara could no longer defend the walls and gates of the plague-stricken Padua, hemmed in on all sides by the Venetians (1405), the soldiers of the guard heard him cry to the devil 'to come and kill me'.

The most complete and instructive type of the tyranny of the fourteenth century is to be found unquestionably among the Visconti of Milan, from the death of the Archbishop Giovanni onwards (1354). The family likeness which shows itself between Bernabò and the worst of the Roman emperors is unmistakable; the most important public object was the prince's boar-hunting; whoever interfered with it was put to death with torture; the terrified people were forced to maintain 5,000 boar-hounds, with strict responsibility for their health and safety. The taxes were extorted by every conceivable sort of compulsion; seven daughters of the prince received a dowry of 100,000 gold florins apiece; and an enormous treasure was collected. On the death of his wife (1384) an order was issued 'to the subjects' to share his grief, as once they had shared his joy, and to wear mourning for a year. The coup de main (1385) by which his nephew Giangaleazzo got him into his power — one of those brilliant plots which make the heart of even late historians beat more quickly — was strikingly characteristic of the man.

In Giangaleazzo that passion for the colossal which was common to most of the despots shows itself on the largest scale. He undertook, at the cost of 300,000 golden florins, the construction of gigantic dykes, to divert in case of need the Mincio from Mantua and the Brenta from Padua, and thus to render these cities defenceless. It is not impossible, indeed, that he thought of draining away the lagoons of Venice. He founded that most wonderful of all convents, the Certosa of Pavia, and the cathedral of Milan, 'which exceeds in size and splendour all the churches of Christendom'. The Palace in Pavia, which his father Galeazzo began and which he himself finished, was probably by far the most magnificent of the princely dwellings of Europe. There he transferred his famous library, and the great collection of relics of the saints, in which he placed a peculiar faith. It would have been strange indeed if a prince of this character had not also cherished the highest ambitions in political matters. King Wenceslaus made him Duke (1395); he was hoping for nothing less than the kingdom of Italy or the imperial crown, when (1402) he fell ill and died. His whole territories are said to have paid him in a single year, besides the regular contribution of 1,200,000 gold florins, no less than 800,000 more in extraordinary subsidies. After his death the dominions which he had brought together by every sort of violence fell to pieces; and for a time even the original nucleus could with difficulty be maintained by his successors. What might have become of his sons Giovanni Maria (died 1412) and Filippo Maria (died 1417), had they lived in a different country and among other traditions, cannot be said. But, as heirs of their house, they inherited that monstrous capital of cruelty and cowardice which had been accumulated from generation to generation.

Giovanni Maria, too, is famed for his dogs, which were no longer, however, used for hunting but for tearing human bodies. Tradition has preserved their names, like those of the bears of the Emperor Valentinian I. In May 1409, when war was going on, and the starving populace cried to him in the streets, Pace! Pace!, he let loose his mercenaries upon them, and 200 lives were sacrificed; under penalty of the gallows it was forbidden to utter the words pace and guerra, and the priests were ordered, instead of dona nobis pacem, to say tranquillitatem. At last a band of conspirators took advantage of the moment when Facino Cane, the chief condottiere of the insane ruler, lay ill at Pavia, and cut down Giovanni Maria in the church of San Gottardo at Milan; the dying Facino on the same day made his officers swear to stand by the heir Filippo Maria, whom he himself urged his wife to take for a second husband. His wife, Beatrice di Tenda, followed his advice. We shall have occasion to speak of Filippo Maria later on.

And in times like these Cola di Rienzi was dreaming of founding on the rickety enthusiasm of the corrupt population of Rome a new state which was to comprise all Italy. By the side of rulers such as those whom we have described, he seems no better than a poor deluded fool.

Despots of the Fifteenth Century

The despotisms of the fifteenth century show an altered character. Many of the less important tyrants, and some of the greater, like the Scala and the Carrara, had disappeared, while the more powerful ones, aggrandized by conquest, had given to their systems each its characteristic development. Naples, for example, received a fresh and stronger impulse from the new Aragonese dynasty. A striking feature of this epoch is the attempt of the condottieri to found independent dynasties of their own. Facts and the actual relations of things, apart from traditional estimates, are alone regarded; talent and audacity win the great prizes. The petty despots, to secure a trustworthy support, begin to enter the service of the larger states, and become themselves condottieri, receiving in return for their services money and impunity for their misdeeds, if not an increase of territory. All, whether small or great, must exert themselves more, must act with greater caution and calculation, and must learn to refrain from too wholesale barbarities; only so much wrong is permitted by public opinion as is necessary for the end in view, and this the impartial bystander certainly finds no fault with. No trace is here visible of that half-religious loyalty by which the legitimate princes of the West were supported; personal popularity is the nearest approach we can find to it. Talent and calculation are the only means of advancement. A character like that of Charles the Bold, which wore itself out in the passionate pursuit of impracticable ends, was a riddle to the Italians. 'The Swiss were only peasants, and if they were all killed, that would be no satisfaction for the Burgundian nobles who might fall in the war. If the duke got possession of all Switzerland without a struggle, his income would not be 5,000 ducats the greater.' The medieval features in the character of Charles, his chivalrous aspirations and ideals, had long become unintelligible to the Italians. The diplomatists of the South, when they saw him strike his officers and yet keep them in his service, when he maltreated his troops to punish them for a defeat, and then threw the blame on his counsellors in the presence of the same troops, gave him up for lost. Louis XI, on the other hand, whose policy surpasses that of the Italian princes in their own style, and who was an avowed admirer of Francesco Sforza, must be placed in all that regards culture and refinement far below these rulers.

Good and evil lie strangely mixed together in the Italian states of the fifteenth century. The personality of the ruler is so highly developed, often of such deep significance, and so characteristic of the conditions and needs of the time, that to form an adequate moral judgement on it is no easy task.

The foundation of the system was and remained illegitimate, and nothing could remove the curse which rested upon it. The imperial approval or investiture made no change in the matter, since the people attached little weight to the fact that the despot had bought a piece of parchment somewhere in foreign countries, or from some stranger passing through his territory. If the emperor had been good for anything — so ran the logic of uncritical common sense — he would never have let the tyrant rise at all. Since the Roman expedition of Charles IV, the emperors had done nothing more in Italy than sanction a tyranny which had arisen without their help; they could give it no other practical authority than what might flow from an imperial charter. The whole conduct of Charles in Italy was a scandalous political comedy. Matteo Villani relates how the Visconti escorted him round their territory, and at last out of it; how he went about like a hawker selling his wares (privileges, etc.) for money; what a mean appearance he made in Rome, and how at the end, without even drawing the sword, he returned with replenished coffers across the Alps. Sigismund came, on the first occasion at least (1414), with the good intention of persuading John XXIII to take part in his council; it was on that journey, when pope and emperor were gazing from the lofty tower of Cremona on the panorama of Lombardy, that their host, the tyrant Gabrino Fondolo, was seized with the desire to throw them both over. On his second visit Sigismund came as a mere adventurer; for more than half a year he remained shut up in Siena, like a debtor in gaol, and only with difficulty, and at a later period, succeeded in being crowned in Rome. And what can be thought of Frederick III? His journeys to Italy have the air of holidaytrips or pleasure-tours made at the expense of those who wanted him to confirm their prerogatives, or whose vanity it flattered to entertain an emperor. The latter was the case with Alfonso of Naples, who paid 150,000 florins for the honour of an imperial visit. At Ferrara, on his second return from Rome (1469), Frederick spent a whole day without leaving his chamber, distributing no less than eighty titles; he created knights, counts, doctors, notaries — counts, indeed, of different degrees, as, for instance, counts palatine, counts with the right to create doctors up to the number of five, counts with the right to legitimatize bastards, to appoint notaries, and so forth. The chancellor, however, expected in return for the patents in question a gratuity which was thought excessive at Ferrara. The opinion of Borso, himself created Duke of Modena and Reggio in return for an annual payment of 4,000 gold florins, when his imperial patron was distributing titles and diplomas to all the little court, is not mentioned. The humanists, then the chief spokesmen of the age, were divided in opinion according to their personal interests, while the emperor was greeted by some of them with the conventional acclamations of the poets of imperial Rome. Poggio confessed that he no longer knew what the coronation meant; in the old times only the victorious Imperator was crowned; and then he was crowned with laurel.

With Maximilian I begins not only the general intervention of foreign nations, but a new imperial policy with regard to Italy. The first step — the investiture of Lodovico il Moro with the duchy of Milan and the exclusion of his unhappy nephew — was not of a kind to bear good fruits. According to the modern theory of intervention, when two parties are tearing a country to pieces, a third may step in and take its share, and on this principle the empire acted. But right and justice were appealed to no longer. When Louis XII was expected in Genoa (1502), and the imperial eagle was removed from the hall of the ducal palace and replaced by painted lilies, the historian Senarega asked what, after all, was the meaning of the eagle which so many revolutions had spared, and what claims the empire had upon Genoa. No one knew more about the matter than the old phrase that Genoa was a camera imperii. In fact, nobody in Italy could give a clear answer to any such questions. At length, when Charles V held Spain and the empire together, he was able by means of Spanish forces to make good imperial claims; but it is notorious that what he thereby gained turned to the profit, not of the empire, but of the Spanish monarchy.

Closely connected with the political illegitimacy of the dynasties of the fifteenth century was the public indifference to legitimate birth, which to foreigners — for example, to Comines — appeared so remarkable. The two things went naturally together. In northern countries, as in Burgundy, the illegitimate offspring were provided for by a distinct class of appanages, such as bishoprics and the like; in Portugal an illegitimate line maintained itself on the throne only by constant effort; in Italy, on the contrary, there no longer existed a princely house where, even in the direct line of descent, bastards were not patiently tolerated. The Aragonese monarchs of Naples belonged to the illegitimate line, Aragon itself falling to the lot of the brother of Alfonso I. The great Frederick of Urbino was, perhaps, no Montefeltro at all. When Pius II was on his way to the Congress of Mantua (1459), eight bastards of the house of Este rode to meet him at Ferrara, among them the reigning duke Borso himself and two illegitimate sons of his illegitimate brother and predecessor Lionello. The latter had also had a lawful wife, herself an illegitimate daughter of Alfonso I of Naples by an African woman. The bastards were often admitted to the succession where the lawful children were minors and the dangers of the situation were pressing; and a rule of seniority became recognized, which took no account of pure of impure birth. The fitness of the individual, his worth and capacity, were of more weight than all the laws and usages which prevailed elsewhere in the West. It was the age, indeed, in which the sons of the popes were founding dynasties. In the sixteenth century, through the influence of foreign ideas and of the Counter-Reformation which then began, the whole question was judged more strictly: Varchi discovers that the succession of the legitimate children 'is ordered by reason, and is the will of heaven from eternity'. Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici founded his claim to the lordship of Florence on the fact that he was perhaps the fruit of a lawful marriage, and at all events son of a gentlewoman, and not, like Duke Alessandro, of a servant girl. At this time began those morganatic marriages of affection which in the fifteenth century, on grounds either of policy or morality, would have had no meaning at all.

But the highest and the most admired form of illegitimacy in the fifteenth century was presented by the condottiere, who, whatever may have been his origin, raised himself to the position of an independent ruler. At bottom, the occupation of Lower Italy by the Normans in the eleventh century was of this character. Such attempts now began to keep the peninsula in a constant ferment.

It was possible for a condottiere to obtain the lordship of a district even without usurpation, in the case when his employer, through want of money or troops, provided for him in this way; under any circumstances the condottiere, even when he dismissed for the time the greater part of his forces, needed a safe place where he could establish his winter quarters, and lay up his stores and provisions. The first example of a captain thus portioned is John Hawkwood, who was invested by Gregory XI with the lordship of Bagnacavallo and Cotignola. When with Alberigo de Barbiano Italian armies and leaders appeared upon the scene, the chances of founding a principality, or of increasing one already acquired, became more frequent. The first great bacchanalian outbreak of military ambition took place in the duchy of Milan after the death of Giangaleazzo (1402). The policy of his two sons was chiefly aimed at the destruction of the new despotisms founded by the condottieri; and from the greatest of them, Facino Cane, the house of Visconti inherited, together with his widow, a long list of cities, and 400,000 golden florins, not to speak of the soldiers of her first husband whom Beatrice di Tenda brought with her. From henceforth that thoroughly immoral relation between the governments and their condottieri, which is characteristic of the fifteenth century, became more and more common. An old story — one of those which are true and not true, everywhere and nowhere — describes it as follows: The citizens of a certain town (Siena seems to be meant) had once an officer in their service who had freed them from foreign aggression; daily they took counsel how to recompense him, and concluded that no reward in their power was great enough, not even if they made him lord of the city. At last one of them rose and said, 'Let us kill him and then worship him as our patron saint.' And so they did, following the example set by the Roman senate with Romulus. In fact, the condottieri had reason to fear none so much as their employers; if they were successful, they became dangerous, and were put out of the way like Roberto Malatesta just after the victory he had won for Sixtus IV (1482); if they failed, the vengeance of the Venetians on Carmagnola showed to what risks they were exposed (1432). It is characteristic of the moral aspect of the situation that the condottieri had often to give their wives and children as hostages, and notwithstanding this, neither felt nor inspired confidence. They must have been heroes of abnegation, natures like Belisarius himself, not to be cankered by hatred and bitterness; only the most perfect goodness could save them from the most monstrous iniquity. No wonder then if we find them full of contempt for all sacred things, cruel and treacherous to their fellows — men who cared nothing whether or no they died under the ban of the Church. At the same time, and through the force of the same conditions, the genius and capacity of many among them attained the highest conceivable development, and won for them the admiring devotion of their followers; their armies are the first in modern history in which the personal credit of the leader is the one moving power. A brilliant example is shown in the life of Francesco Sforza; no prejudice of birth could prevent him from winning and turning to account when he needed it a boundless devotion from each individual with whom he had to deal; it happened more than once that his enemies laid down their arms at the sight of him, greeting him reverently with uncovered heads, each honouring in him 'the common father of the men-at-arms'. The race of the Sforza has this special interest, that from the very beginning of its history we seem able to trace its endeavours after the crown. The foundation of its fortune lay in the remarkable fruitfulness of the family; Francesco's father, Jacopo, himself a celebrated man, had twenty brothers and sisters, all brought up roughly at Cotignola, near Faenza, amid the perils of one of the endless Romagnole vendettas between their own house and that of the Pasolini. The family dwelling was a mere arsenal and fortress; the mother and daughters were as warlike as their kinsmen. In his thirteenth year Jacopo ran away and fled to Panicale to the papal condottiere Boldrino — the man who even in death continued to lead his troops, the word of order being given from the bannered tent in which the embalmed body lay, till at last a fit leader was found to succeed him. Jacopo, when he had at length made himself a name in the service of different condottieri, sent for his relations, and obtained through them the same advantages that a prince derives from a numerous dynasty. It was these relations who kept the army together when he lay a captive in the Castel dell'Uovo at Naples; his sister took the royal envoys prisoner with her own hands, and saved him by this reprisal from death. It was an indication of the breadth and the range of his plans that in monetary affairs Jacopo was thoroughly trustworthy; even in his defeats he consequently found credit with the bankers. He habitually protected the peasants against the licence of his troops, and reluctantly destroyed or injured a conquered city. He gave his well-known mistress, Lucia, the mother of Francesco, in marriage to another, in order to be free for a princely alliance. Even the marriages of his relations were arranged on a definite plan. He kept clear of the impious and profligate life of his contemporaries, and brought up his son Francesco to the three rules: 'Let other men's wives alone; strike none of your followers, or, if you do, send the injured man far away; don't ride a hard-mouthed horse, or one that drops his shoe.' But his chief source of influence lay in the qualities, if not of a great general, at least of a great soldier. His frame was powerful, and developed by every kind of exercise; his peasant's face and frank manners won general popularity; his memory was marvellous, and after the lapse of years could recall the names of his followers, the number of their horses, and the amount of their pay. His education was purely Italian: he devoted his leisure to the study of history, and had Greek and Latin authors translated for his use. Francesco, his still more famous son, set his mind from the first on founding a powerful state, and through brilliant generalship and a faithlessness which hesitated at nothing, got possession of the great city of Milan (1447—50).

His example was contagious. Aeneas Sylvius wrote about this time: 'In our change-loving Italy, where nothing stands firm, and where no ancient dynasty exists, a servant can easily become a king.' One man in particular, who styles himself 'the man of fortune', filled the imagination of the whole country: Giacomo Piccinino, the son of Niccolò. It was a burning question of the day if he, too, would succeed in founding a princely house. The greater states had an obvious interest in hindering it, and even Francesco Sforza thought it would be all the better if the list of self-made sovereigns were not enlarged. But the troops and captains sent against him, at the time, for instance, when he was aiming at the lordship of Siena, recognized their interest in supporting him: 'If it were all over with him, we should have to go back and plough our fields.' Even while besieging him at Orbetello, they supplied him with provisions; and he got out of his straits with honour. But at last fate overtook him. All Italy was betting on the result, when (1465), after a visit to Sforza at Milan, he went to King Ferrante at Naples. In spite of the pledges given, and of his high connections, he was murdered in the Castel Nuovo. Even the condottieri, who had obtained their dominions by inheritance, never felt themselves safe. When Roberto Malatesta and Frederick of Urbino died on the same day (1482), the one at Rome, the other at Bologna, it was found that each had recommended his state to the care of the other. Against a class of men who themselves stuck at nothing, everything was held to be permissible. Francesco Sforza, when quite young, had married a rich Calabrian heiress, Polissena Russa, Countess of Montalto, who bore him a daughter; an aunt poisoned both mother and child, and seized the inheritance.

From the death of Piccinino onwards, the foundations of new states by the condottieri became a scandal not to be tolerated. The four great powers, Naples, Milan, the papacy and Venice, formed among themselves a political equilibrium which refused to allow of any disturbance. In the States of the Church, which swarmed with petty tyrants, who in part were, or had been, condottieri, the nephews of the popes, since the time of Sixtus IV, monopolized the right to all such undertakings. But at the first sign of a political crisis, the soldiers of fortune appeared again upon the scene. Under the wretched administration of Innocent VIII it was near happening that a certain Boccalino, who had formerly served in the Burgundian army, gave himself and the town of Osimo, of which he was master, up to the Turkish forces; fortunately, through the intervention of Lorenzo the Magnificent, he proved willing to be paid off, and took himself away. In the year 1495, when the wars of Charles VIII had turned Italy upside down, the condottiere Vidovero, of Brescia, made trial of his strength: he had already seized the town of Cesena and murdered many of the nobles and the burghers; but the citadel held out, and he was forced to withdraw. He then, at the head of a band lent him by another scoundrel, Pandolfo Malatesta of Rimini, son of the Roberto already spoken of, and Venetian condottiere, wrested the town of Castelnuovo from the Archbishop of Ravenna. The Venetians, fearing that worse would follow, and urged also by the pope, ordered Pandolfo, 'with the kindest intentions', to take an opportunity of arresting his good friend: the arrest was made, though 'with great regret', whereupon the order came to bring the prisoner to the gallows. Pandolfo was considerate enough to strangle him in prison, and then show his corpse to the people. The last notable example of such usurpers is the famous castellan of Musso, who, during the confusion in the Milanese territory which followed the battle of Pavia (1525), improvised a sovereignty on the Lake of Como.

The Smaller Despotisms

It may be said in general of the despotisms of the fifteenth century that the greatest crimes are most frequent in the smallest states. In these, where the family was numerous and all the members wished to live in a manner befitting their rank, disputes respecting the inheritance were unavoidable. Bernardo Varano of Camerino put two of his brothers to death (1434), wishing to divide their property among his sons. Where the ruler of a single town was distinguished by a wise, moderate and humane government, and by zeal for intellectual culture, he was generally a member of some great family, or politically dependent on it. This was the case, for example, with Alessandro Sforza, Prince of Pesaro (d. 1473), brother of the great Francesco, and step-father of Frederick of Urbino. Prudent in administration, just and affable in his rule, he enjoyed, after years of warfare, a tranquil reign, collected a noble library, and passed his leisure in learned or religious conversation. A man of the same class was Giovanni II Bentivoglio of Bologna (1462—1506), whose policy was determined by that of the Este and the Sforza. What ferocity and bloodthirstiness is found, on the other hand, among the Varani of Camerino, the Malatesta of Rimini, the Manfreddi of Faenza, and above all among the Baglioni of Perugia. We find a striking picture of the events in the last-named family, towards the close of the fifteenth century, in the admirable historical narratives of Graziani and Matarazzo.

The Baglioni were one of those families whose rule never took the shape of an avowed despotism. It was rather a leadership exercised by means of their vast wealth and of their practical influence in the choice of public officers. Within the family one man was recognized as head; but deep and secret jealousy prevailed among the members of the different branches. Opposed to the Baglioni stood another aristocratic party, led by the family of the Oddi. In 1487 the city was turned into a camp, and the houses of the leading citizens swarmed with bravos; scenes of violence were of daily occurrence. At the burial of a German student, who had been assassinated, two colleges took arms against one another; sometimes the bravos of the different houses even joined battle in the public square. The complaints of the merchants and artisans were vain; the papal governors and nipoti held their tongues, or took themselves off on the first opportunity. At last the Oddi were forced to abandon Perugia, and the city became a beleaguered fortress under the absolute despotism of the Baglioni, who used even the cathedral as barracks. Plots and surprises were met with cruel vengeance; in the year 1491, after 130 conspirators who had forced their way into the city were killed and hung up at the Palazzo Comunale, thirty-five altars were erected in the square, and for three days mass was performed and processions held, to take away the curse which rested on the spot. A nephew of Innocent VIII was in open day run through in the street. A nephew of Alexander VI, who was sent to smooth matters over, was dismissed with public contempt. All the while the two leaders of the ruling house, Guido and Ridolfo, were holding frequent interviews with Suor Colomba of Rieti, a Dominican nun of saintly reputation and miraculous powers, who under penalty of some great disaster ordered them to make peace — naturally in vain. Nevertheless the chronicle takes the opportunity to point out the devotion and piety of the better men in Perugia during this reign of terror. When in 1494 Charles VIII approached, the Baglioni from Perugia and the exiles encamped in and near Assisi conducted the war with such ferocity that every house in the valley was levelled to the ground. The fields lay untilled, the peasants were turned into plundering and murdering savages, the fresh-grown bushes were filled with stags and wolves, and the beasts grew fat on the bodies of the slain, on so-called 'Christian flesh'. When Alexander VI withdrew (1495) into Umbria before Charles VIII, then returning from Naples, it occurred to him, when at Perugia, that he might now rid himself of the Baglioni once for all; he proposed to Guido a festival or tournament, or something else of the same kind, which would bring the whole family together. Guido, however, was of the opinion 'that the most impressive spectacle of all would be to see the whole military force of Perugia collected in a body', whereupon the pope abandoned his project. Soon after, the exiles made another attack in which nothing but the personal heroism of the Baglioni won them the victory. It was then that Simonetto Baglione, a lad of scarcely eighteen, fought in the square with a handful of followers against hundreds of the enemy: he fell at last with more than twenty wounds, but recovered himself when Astorre Baglione came to his help, and mounting on horseback in gilded armour with a falcon on his helmet, 'like Mars in bearing and in deeds, plunged into the struggle'.

At that time Raphael, a boy of twelve years of age, was at school under Pietro Perugino. The impressions of these days are perhaps immortalized in the small, early pictures of St Michael and St George: something of them, it may be, lives eternally in the great painting of St Michael: and if Astorre Baglione has anywhere found his apotheosis, it is in the figure of the heavenly horseman in the Heliodorus.

The opponents of the Baglioni were partly destroyed, partly scattered in terror, and were henceforth incapable of another enterprise of the kind. After a time a partial reconciliation took place, and some of the exiles were allowed to return. But Perugia became none the safer or more tranquil: the inward discord of the ruling family broke out in frightful excesses. An opposition was formed against Guido and Ridolfo and their sons Gianpaolo, Simonetto, Astorre, Gismondo, Gentile, Marcantinio and others, by two great-nephews, Grifone and Carlo Barciglia; the latter of the two was also nephew of Varano, Prince of Camerino, and brother-in-law of one of the former exiles, Ieronimo della Penna. In vain did Simonetto, warned by sinister presentiment, entreat his uncle on his knees to allow him to put Penna to death: Guido refused. The plot ripened suddenly on the occasion of the marriage of Astorre with Lavinia Colonna, at midsummer 1500. The festival began and lasted several days amid gloomy forebodings, whose deepening effect is admirably described by Matarazzo. Varano fed and encouraged them with devilish ingenuity: he worked upon Grifone by the prospect of undivided authority, and by stories of an imaginary intrigue of his wife Zenobia with Gianpaolo. Finally each conspirator was provided with a victim. (The Baglioni lived all of them in separate houses, mostly on the site of the present castle.) Each received fifteen of the bravos at hand; the remainder were set on the watch. In the night of 15 July the doors were forced, and Guido, Astorre, Simonetto and Gismondo were murdered; the others succeeded in escaping.

As the corpse of Astorre lay by that of Simonetto in the street, the spectators, 'and especially the foreign students', compared him to an ancient Roman, so great and imposing did he seem. In the features of Simonetto could still be traced the audacity and defiance which death itself had not tamed. The victors went round among the friends of the family, and did their best to recommend themselves; they found all in tears and preparing to leave for the country. Meantime the escaped Baglioni collected forces without the city, and on the following day forced their way in, Gianpaolo at their head, and speedily found adherents among others whom Barciglia had been threatening with death. When Grifone fell into their hands near Sant' Ercolano, Gianpaolo handed him over for execution to his followers. Barciglia and Penna fled to Varano, the chief author of the tragedy, at Camerino; and in a moment, almost without loss, Gianpaolo became master of the city.

Atalanta, the still young and beautiful mother of Grifone, who the day before had withdrawn to a country house with the latter's wife Zenobia and two children of Gianpaolo, and more than once had repulsed her son with a mother's curse, now returned with her daughter-in-law in search of the dying man. All stood aside as the two women approached, each man shrinking from being recognized as the slayer of Grifone, and dreading the malediction of the mother. But they were deceived: she herself besought her son to pardon him who had dealt the fatal blow, and he died with her blessing. The eyes of the crowd followed the two women reverently as they crossed the square with blood-stained garments. It was Atalanta for whom Raphael afterwards painted the world-famed Deposition, with which she laid her own maternal sorrows at the feet of a yet higher and holier suffering.

The cathedral, in the immediate neighbourhood of which the greater part of this tragedy had been enacted, was washed with wine and consecrated afresh. The triumphal arch, erected for the wedding, still remained standing, painted with the deeds of Astorre and with the laudatory verses of the narrator of these events, the worthy Matarazzo.

A legendary history, which is simply the reflection of these atrocities, arose out of the early days of the Baglioni. All the members of this family from the beginning were reported to have died an evil death — twenty-seven on one occasion together; their houses were said to have been once before levelled to the ground, and the streets of Perugia paved with the bricks — and more of the same kind. Under Paul III the destruction of their palaces really took place.

For a time they seemed to have formed good resolutions, to have brought their own party into order, and to have protected the public officials against the arbitrary acts of the nobility. But the old curse broke out again like a smouldering fire. In 1520 Gianpaolo was enticed to Rome under Leo X, and there beheaded; one of his sons, Orazio, who ruled in Perugia for a short time only, and by the most violent means, as the partisan of the Duke of Urbino (himself threatened by the pope), once more repeated in his own family the horrors of the past. His uncle and three cousins were murdered, whereupon the duke sent him word that enough had been done. His brother, Malatesta Baglione, the Florentine general, has made himself immortal by the treason of 1530; and Malatesta's son Ridolfo, the last of the house, attained, by the murder of the legate and the public officers in the year 1534, a brief but sanguinary authority.

Here and there we meet with the names of the rulers of Rimini. Unscrupulousness, impiety, military skill and high culture have been seldom combined in one individual as in Sigismondo Malatesta (d. 1467). But the accumulated crimes of such a family must at last outweigh all talent, however great, and drag the tyrant into the abyss. Pandolfo, Sigismondo's nephew, who has been mentioned already, succeeded in holding his ground, for the sole reason that the Venetians refused to abandon their condottiere, whatever guilt he might be chargeable with; when his subjects, after ample provocation, bombarded him in his castle at Rimini (1497), and afterwards allowed him to escape, a Venetian commissioner brought him back, stained as he was with fratricide and every other abomination. Thirty years later the Malatesta were penniless exiles. In the year 1527, as in the time of Cesare Borgia, a sort of epidemic fell on the petty tyrants; few of them outlived this date, and none to their own good. At Mirandola, which was governed by insignificant princes of the house of Pico, lived in the year 1533 a poor scholar, Lilio Gregorio Giraldi, who had fled from the sack of Rome to the hospitable hearth of the aged Giovanni Francesco Pico, nephew of the famous Giovanni; the discussions as to the sepulchral monument which the prince was constructing for himself gave rise to a treatise, the dedication of which bears the date of April in this year. The postscript is a sad one — 'In October of the same year the unhappy prince was attacked in the night and robbed of life and throne by his brother's son; and I myself escaped narrowly, and am now in the deepest misery.'

A pseudo-despotism without characteristic features, such as Pandolfo Petrucci exercised from the year 1490 in Siena, then torn by faction, is hardly worth a closer consideration. Insignificant and malicious, he governed with the help of a professor of jurisprudence and of an astrologer, and frightened his people by an occasional murder. His pastime in the summer months was to roll blocks of stone from the top of Monte Amiata, without caring what or whom they hit. After succeeding, where the most prudent failed, in escaping from the devices of Cesare Borgia, he died at last forsaken and despised. His sons maintained a qualified supremacy for many years afterwards.

The Greater Dynasties

In treating of the chief dynasties of Italy, it is convenient to discuss the Aragonese, on account of its special character, apart from the rest. The feudal system, which from the days of the Normans had survived in the form of a territorial supremacy of the barons, gave a distinctive colour to the political constitution of Naples; while elsewhere in Italy, excepting only in the southern part of the ecclesiastical dominion, and in a few other districts, a direct tenure of land prevailed, and no hereditary powers were permitted by the law. The great Alfonso, who reigned in Naples from 1435 onwards (d. 1458), was a man of another kind than his real or alleged descendants. Brilliant in his whole existence, fearless in mixing with his people, dignified and affable in intercourse, admired rather than blamed even for his old man's passion for Lucrezia d'Alagnam, he had the one bad quality of extravagance, from which, however, the natural consequence followed. Unscrupulous financiers were long omnipotent at court, till the bankrupt king robbed them of their spoils; a crusade was preached as a pretext for taxing the clergy; when a great earthquake happened in the Abruzzi, the survivors were compelled to make good the contributions of the dead. By such means Alfonso was able to entertain distinguished guests with unrivalled splendour; he found pleasure in ceaseless expense, even for the benefit of his enemies, and in rewarding literary work knew absolutely no measure. Poggio received 500 pieces of gold for translating Xenophon's Cyropaedeia.

Ferrante, who succeeded him, passed as his illegitimate son by a Spanish lady, but was not improbably the son of a half-caste Moor of Valencia. Whether it was his blood or the plots formed against his life by the barons which embittered and darkened his nature, it is certain that he was equalled in ferocity by none among the princes of his time. Restlessly active, recognized as one of the most powerful political minds of the day, and free from the vices of the profligate, he concentrated all his powers, among which must be reckoned profound dissimulation and an irreconcilable spirit of vengeance, on the destruction of his opponents. He had been wounded in every point in which a ruler is open to offence; for the leaders of the barons, though related to him by marriage, were yet the allies of his foreign enemies. Extreme measures became part of his daily policy. The means for this struggle with his barons, and for his external wars, were exacted in the same Muhammadan fashion which Frederick II had introduced: the government alone dealt in oil and corn; the whole commerce of the country was put by Ferrante into the hands of a wealthy merchant, Francesco Coppola, who had entire control of the anchorage on the coast, and shared the profits with the king. Deficits were made up by forced loans, by executions and confiscations, by open simony, and by contributions levied on the ecclesiastical corporations. Besides hunting, which he practised regardless of all rights of property, his pleasures were of two kinds: he liked to have his opponents near him, either alive in well-guarded prisons, or dead and embalmed, dressed in the costume which they wore in their lifetime. He would chuckle in talking of the captives with his friends, and made no secret whatever of the museum of mummies. His victims were mostly men whom he had got into his power by treachery; some were even seized while guests at the royal table. His conduct to his first minister, Antolello Petrucci, who had grown sick and grey in his service, and from whose increasing fear of death he extorted 'present after present', was literally devilish. At length the suspicion of complicity with the last conspiracy of the barons gave the pretext for his arrest and execution. With him died Coppola. The way in which all this is narrated in Caracciolo and Porzio makes one's hair stand on end.

The elder of the king's sons, Alfonso, Duke of Calabria, enjoyed in later years a kind of co-regency with his father. He was a savage, brutal profligate, who in point of frankness alone had the advantage of Ferrante, and who openly avowed his contempt for religion and its usages. The better and nobler features of the Italian despotisms are not to be found among the princes of this line; all that they possessed of the art and culture of their time served the purposes of luxury or display. Even the genuine Spaniards seem to have almost always degenerated in Italy; but the end of this cross-bred house (1494 and 1503) gives clear proof of a want of blood. Ferrante died of mental care and trouble; Alfonso accused his brother Federigo, the only honest member of the family, of treason, and insulted him in the vilest manner. At length, though he had hitherto passed for one of the ablest generals in Italy, he lost his head and fled to Sicily, leaving his son, the younger Ferrante, a prey to the French and to domestic treason. A dynasty which had ruled as this had done must at least have sold its life dear, if its children were ever to hope for a restoration. But, as Comines one-sidedly and yet on the whole rightly observes on this occasion, 'Jamais homme cruel ne fut plus hardi': there was never a more cruel man.

The despotism of the dukes of Milan, whose government from the time of Giangaleazzo onwards was an absolute monarchy of the most thoroughgoing sort, shows the genuine Italian character of the fifteenth century. The last of the Visconti, Filippo Maria (1412—47), is a character of peculiar interest, and of which fortunately an admirable description has been left us. What a man of uncommon gifts and high position can be made by the passion of fear is here shown with what may be called a mathematical completeness. All the resources of the state were devoted to the one end of securing his personal safety, though happily his cruel egotism did not degenerate into a purposeless thirst for blood. He lived in the Citadel of Milan, surrounded by magnificent gardens, arbours and lawns. For years he never set foot in the city, making his excursions only in the country, where lay several of his splendid castles; the flotilla which, drawn by the swiftest horses, conducted him to them along canals constructed for the purpose, was so arranged as to allow of the application of the most rigorous etiquette. Whoever entered the Citadel was watched by a hundred eyes; it was forbidden even to stand at the window, lest signs should be given to those without. All who were admitted among the personal followers of the prince were subjected to a series of the strictest examinations; then, once accepted, were charged with the highest diplomatic commissions, as well as with the humblest personal services — both in this court being alike honourable. And this was the man who conducted long and difficult wars, who dealt habitually with political affairs of the first importance, and every day sent his plenipotentiaries to all parts of Italy. His safety lay in the fact that none of his servants trusted the others, that his condottieri were watched and misled by spies, and that the ambassadors and higher officials were baffled and kept apart by artificially nourished jealousies, and in particular by the device of coupling an honest man with a knave. His inward faith, too, rested upon opposed and contradictory systems; he believed in blind necessity, and in the influence of the stars, and offering prayers at one and the same time to helpers of every sort; he was a student of the ancient authors, as well as of French tales of chivalry. And yet the same man, who would never suffer death to be mentioned in his presence, and caused his dying favourites to be removed from the castle, that no shadow might fall on the abode of happiness, deliberately hastened his own death by closing up a wound, and, refusing to be bled, died at last with dignity and grace.

His son-in-law and successor, the fortunate condottiere Francesco Sforza (145o—66), was perhaps of all the Italians of the fifteenth century the man most after the heart of his age. Never was the triumph of genius and individual power more brilliantly displayed than in him; and those who would not recognize his merit were at least forced to wonder at him as the spoilt child of fortune. The Milanese claimed it openly as an honour to be governed by so distinguished a master; when he entered the city the thronging populace bore him on horseback into the cathedral, without giving him the chance to dismount. Let us listen to the balance-sheet of his life, in the estimate of Pope Pius II, a judge in such matters:

In the year 1459, when the duke came to the congress at Mantua, he was sixty (really fifty-eight) years old; on horseback he looked like a young man; of a lofty and imposing figure, with serious features, calm and affable in conversation, princely in his whole bearing, with a combination of bodily and intellectual gifts unrivalled in our time, unconquered on the field of battle — such was the man who raised himself from a humble position to the control of an empire. His wife was beautiful and virtuous, his children were like the angels of heaven; he was seldom ill, and all his chief wishes were fulfilled. And yet he was not without misfortune. His wife, out of jealousy, killed his mistress; his old comrades and friends, Troilo and Brunoro, abandoned him and went over to King Alfonso; another, Ciarpollone, he was forced to hang for treason; he had to suffer it that his brother Alessandro set the French upon him; one of his sons formed intrigues against him, and was imprisoned; the March of Ancona, which he had won in war, he lost again the same way. No man enjoys so unclouded a fortune, that he has not somewhere to struggle with adversity. He is happy who has but few troubles.

With this negative definition of happiness the learned pope dismisses the reader. Had he been able to see into the future, or been willing to stop and discuss the consequences of an uncontrolled despotism, one pervading fact would not have escaped his notice — the absence of all guarantee for the future. Those children, beautiful as angels, carefully and thoroughly educated as they were, fell victims, when they grew up, to the corruption of a measureless egotism. Galeazzo Maria (1466—76), solicitous only of outward effect, took pride in the beauty of his hands, in the high salaries he paid, in the financial credit he enjoyed, in his treasure of two million pieces of gold, in the distinguished people who surrounded him, and in the army and birds of chase which he maintained. He was fond of the sound of his own voice, and spoke well, most fluently, perhaps, when he had the chance of insulting a Venetian ambassador. He was subject to caprices, such as having a room painted with figures in a single night; and, what was worse, to fits of senseless debauchery and of revolting cruelty to his nearest friends. To a handful of enthusiasts, he seemed a tyrant too bad to live; they murdered him, and thereby delivered the state into the power of his brothers, one of whom, Lodovico il Moro, threw his nephew into prison, and took the government into his own hands. From this usurpation followed the French intervention, and the disasters which befell the whole of Italy.

Lodovico Sforza, called 'il Moro', the Moor, is the most perfect type of the despot of that age, and, as a kind of natural product, almost disarms our moral judgement. Notwithstanding the profound immorality of the means he employed, he used them with perfect ingeniousness; no one would probably have been more astonished than himself to learn that for the choice of means as well as of ends a human being is morally responsible; he would rather have reckoned it as a singular virtue that, so far as possible, he had abstained from too free a use of the punishment of death. He accepted as no more than his due the almost fabulous respect of the Italians for his political genius. In 1496 he boasted that the Pope Alexander was his chaplain, the Emperor Maximilian his condottiere, Venice his chamberlain, and the King of France his courier, who must come and go at his bidding. With marvellous presence of mind he weighed, even in his last extremity (1499), all possible means of escape, and at length decided, to his honour, to trust to the goodness of human nature; he rejected the proposal of his brother, the Cardinal Ascanio, who wished to remain in the Citadel of Milan, on the ground of a former quarrel: 'Monsignore, take it not ill, but I trust you not, brother though you be'; and appointed to the command of the castle, 'that pledge of his return', a man to whom he had always done good, but who nevertheless betrayed him. At home the Moor was a good and useful ruler, and to the last he reckoned on his popularity both in Milan and in Como. In later years (after 1496) he had overstrained the resources of his state, and at Cremona had ordered, out of pure expediency, a respectable citizen, who had spoken against the new taxes, to be quietly strangled. Since that time, in holding audiences, he kept his visitors away from his person by means of a bar, so that in conversing with him they were compelled to speak at the top of their voices. At his court, the most brilliant in Europe, since that of Burgundy had ceased to exist, immorality of the worst kind was prevalent; the daughter was sold by the father, the wife by the husband, the sister by the brother. The prince himself was incessantly active, and, as son of his own deeds, claimed relationship with all who, like himself, stood on their personal merits — with scholars, poets, artists and musicians. The academy which he founded served rather for his own purposes than for the instruction of scholars; nor was it the fame of the distinguished men who surrounded him which he heeded, so much as their society and their services. It is certain that Bramante was scantily paid at first; Leonardo, on the other hand, was up to 1496 suitably remunerated — and besides, what kept him at the court, if not his own free will? The world lay open to him, as perhaps to no other mortal man of that day; and if proof were wanting of the loftier element in the nature of Lodovico il Moro, it is found in the long stay of the enigmatic master at his court. That afterwards Leonardo entered the service of Cesare Borgia and Francis I was probably due to the interest he felt in the unusual and striking character of the two men.

After the fall of the Moor, his sons were badly brought up among strangers. The elder, Massimiliano, had no resemblance to him; the younger, Francesco, was at all events not without spirit. Milan, which in those years changed its rulers so often, and suffered so unspeakably in the change, endeavored to secure itself against a reaction. In the year 1512 the French, retreating before the arms of Maximilian and the Spaniards, were induced to make a declaration that the Milanese had taken no part in their expulsion, and, without being guilty of rebellion, might yield themselves to a new conqueror. It is a fact of some political importance that in such moments of transition the unhappy city, like Naples at the flight of the Aragonese, was apt to fall a prey to gangs of (often highly aristocratic) scoundrels.

The house of Gonzaga at Mantua and that of Montefeltro of Urbino were among the best ordered and richest in men of ability during the second half of the fifteenth century. The Gonzaga were a tolerably harmonious family; for a long period no murder had been known among them, and their dead could be shown to the world without fear. The Marquis Francesco Gonzaga and his wife, Isabella of Este, in spite of some few irregularities, were a united and respectable couple, and brought up their sons to be successful and remarkable men at a time when their small but most important state was exposed to incessant danger. That Francesco, either as statesman or as soldier, should adopt a policy of exceptional honesty, was what neither the emperor, nor Venice, nor the King of France could have expected or desired; but certainly since the battle of the Taro (1495), so far as military honour was concerned, he felt and acted as an Italian patriot, and imparted the same spirit to his wife. Every deed of loyalty and heroism, such as the defence of Faenza against Cesare Borgia, she felt as a vindication of the honour of Italy. Our judgement of her does not need to rest on the praises of the artists and writers who made the fair princess a rich return for her patronage; her own letters show her to us as a woman of unshaken firmness, full of kindliness and humorous observation. Bembo, Bandello, Ariosto and Bernardo Tasso sent their works to this court, small and powerless as it was, and empty as they found its treasury. A more polished and charming circle was not to be seen in Italy, since the dissolution (1508) of the old court of Urbino; and in one respect, in freedom of movement, the society of Ferrara was inferior to that of Mantua. In artistic matters Isabella had an accurate knowledge, and the catalogue of her small but choice collection can be read by no lover of art without emotion.

In the great Federigo (1444—82), whether he were a genuine Montefeltro or not, Urbino possessed a brilliant representative of the princely order. As a condottiere he shared the political morality of soldiers of fortune, a morality of which the fault does not rest with them alone; as ruler of his little territory he adopted the plan of spending at home the money he had earned abroad, and taxing his people as lightly as possible. Of him and his two successors, Guidobaldo and Francesco Maria, we read: 'They erected buildings, furthered the cultivation of the land, lived at home, and gave employment to a large number of people: their subjects loved them.' But not only the state, but the court too, was a work of art and organization, and this in every sense of the word. Federigo had 500 persons in his service; the arrangements of the court were as complete as in the capitals of the greatest monarchs, but nothing was wasted; all had its object, and all was carefully watched and controlled. The court was no scene of vice and dissipation: it served as a school of military education for the sons of other great houses, the thoroughness of whose culture and instruction was made a point of honour by the duke. The palace which he built, if not one of the most splendid, was classical in the perfection of its plan; there was placed the greatest of his treasures, the celebrated library. Feeling secure in a land where all gained profit or employment from his rule, and where none were beggars, he habitually went about unarmed and almost unaccompanied; alone among the princes of his time he ventured to walk in an open park, and to take his frugal meals in an open chamber, while Livy, or in time of fasting some devotional work, was read to him. In the course of the same afternoon he would listen to a lecture on some classical subject, and thence would go to the monastery of the Clarisses and talk of sacred things through the grating with the abbess. In the evening he would overlook the martial exercises of the young people of his court on the meadow of San Francesco, known for its magnificent view, and saw to it well that all the feats were done in the most perfect manner. He strove always to be affable and accessible to the utmost degree, visiting the artisans who worked for him in their shops, holding frequent audiences, and, if possible, attending to the requests of each individual on the same day that they were presented. No wonder that the people, as he walked along the street, knelt down and cried: 'Dio ti mantenga, signore!' He was called by thinking people 'the light of Italy'. His gifted son Guidobaldo, visited by sickness and misfortune of every kind, was able at the last (1508) to give his state into the safe hands of his nephew Francesco Maria (nephew also of Pope Julius II), who at least succeeded in preserving the territory from any permanent foreign occupation. It is remarkable with what confidence Guidobaldo yielded and fled before Cesare Borgia and Francesco before the troops of Leo X; each knew that his restoration would be all the easier and the more popular the less the country suffered through a fruitless defence. When Lodo-vico made the same calculation at Milan, he forgot the many grounds of hatred which existed against him. The court of Guidobaldo has been made immortal as the high school of polished manners by Baldassare Castiglione, who represented his eclogue 'Thyrsis' before, and in honour of, that society (1506), and who afterwards (1518) laid the scene of the dialogue of his Cortigiano in the circle of the accomplished Duchess Elisabetta Gonzaga.

The government of the family of Este at Ferrara, Modena and Reggio displays curious contrasts of violence and popularity. Within the palace frightful deeds were perpetrated; a princess was beheaded (1425) for alleged adultery with a step-son; legitimate and illegitimate children fled from the court, and even abroad their lives were threatened by assassins sent in pursuit of them (1471). Plots from without were incessant; the bastard of a bastard tried to wrest the crown from the lawful heir, Ercole I; this latter is said afterwards (1493) to have poisoned his wife on discovering that she, at the instigation of her brother Ferrante of Naples, was going to poison him. This list of tragedies is closed by the plot of two bastards against their brothers, the ruling Duke Alfonso I and Cardinal Ippolito (1506), which was discovered in time, and punished with imprisonment for life. The financial system in this state was of the most perfect kind, and necessarily so, since none of the large or second-rate powers of Italy were exposed to such danger and stood in such constant need of armaments and fortifications. It was the hope of the rulers that the increasing prosperity of the people would keep pace with the increasing weight of taxation, and the Marquis Niccolò (d. 1441) used to express the wish that his subjects might be richer than the people of other countries. If the rapid increase of the population be a measure of prosperity actually attained, it is certainly a fact of importance that in the year 1497, notwithstanding the wonderful extension of the capital, no houses were to be let. Ferrara is the first really modern city in Europe; large and well-built quarters sprang up at the bidding of the ruler: here, by the concentration of the official classes and the active promotion of trade, was formed for the first time a true capital; wealthy fugitives from all parts of Italy, Florentines especially, settled and built their palaces at Ferrara. But the indirect taxation, at all events, must have reached a point at which it could only just be borne. The government, it is true, took measures of alleviation which were also adopted by other Italian despots, such as Galeazzo Maria Sforza: in time of famine corn was brought from a distance and seems to have been distributed gratuitously; but in ordinary times it compensated itself by the monopoly, if not of corn, of many other of the necessaries of life — fish, salt, meat, fruit and vegetables, which last were carefully planted on and near the walls of the city. The most considerable source of income, however, was the annual sale of public offices, a usage which was common throughout Italy, and about the working of which at Ferrara we have more precise information. We read, for example, that at the new year 1502 the majority of the officials bought their places at 'prezzi salati'; public servants of the most various kinds, custom-house officers, bailiffs (massari), notaries, 'podestà', judges and even captains, i. e. lieutenant-governors of provincial towns, are quoted by name. As one of the 'devourers of the people' who paid dearly for their places, and who were 'hated worse than the devil', Tito Strozza — let us hope not the famous Latin poet — is mentioned. About the same time every year the dukes were accustomed to make a round of visits in Ferrara, the so-called 'andar per ventura', in which they took presents from, at any rate, the more wealthy citizens. The gifts, however, did not consist of money, but of natural products.

It was the pride of the duke for all Italy to know that at Ferrara the soldiers received their pay and the professors at the university their salary not a day later than it was due; that the soldiers never dared lay arbitrary hands on a citizen or peasant; that the town was impregnable to assault; and that vast sums of coined money were stored up in the citadel. To keep two sets of accounts seemed unnecessary: the Minister of Finance was at the same time manager of the ducal household. The buildings erected by Borso (1430—71), by Ercole I (till 1505), and by Alfonso I (till 1534), were very numerous, but of small size; they are characteristic of a princely house which, with all its love of splendour — Borso never appeared but in embroidery and jewels — indulged in no ill-considered expense. Alfonso may perhaps have foreseen the fate which was in store for his charming little villas, the Belvedere with its shady gardens, and Montana with its fountains and beautiful frescoes.

It is undeniable that the dangers to which these princes were constantly exposed developed in them capacities of a remarkable kind. In so artificial a world only a man of consummate address could hope to succeed; each candidate for distinction was forced to make good his claims by personal merit and show himself worthy of the crown he sought. Their characters are not without dark sides; but in all of them lives something of those qualities which Italy then pursued as its ideal. What European monarch of the time laboured for his own culture as, for instance, Alfonso I? His travels in France, England and the Netherlands were undertaken for the purpose of study: by means of them he gained an accurate knowledge of the industry and commerce of these countries. It is ridiculous to reproach him with the turner's work which he practised in his leisure hours, connected as it was with his skill in the casting of cannon, and with the unprejudiced freedom with which he surrounded himself by masters of every art. The Italian princes were not, like their contemporaries in the North, dependent on the society of an aristocracy which held itself to be the only class worth consideration, and which infected the monarch with the same conceit. In Italy the prince was permitted and compelled to know and to use men of every grade in society; and the nobility, though by birth a caste, were forced in social intercourse to stand upon their personal qualifications alone. But this is a point which we shall discuss more fully in the sequel.

The feeling of the Ferrarese towards the ruling house was a strange compound of silent dread, of the truly Italian sense of well-calculated interest, and of the loyalty of the modern subject: personal admiration was transferred into a new sentiment of duty. The city of Ferrara raised in 1451 a bronze equestrian statue to their Prince Niccolò, who had died ten years earlier; Borso (1454) did not scruple to place his own statue, also of bronze, but in a sitting posture, hard by in the market; in addition to which the city, at the beginning of his reign, decreed to him a 'marble triumphal pillar'. A citizen who, when abroad in Venice, had spoken ill of Borso in public was informed against on his return home, and condemned to banishment and the confiscation of his goods; a loyal subject was with difficulty restrained from cutting him down before the tribunal itself, and with a rope round his neck the offender went to the duke and begged for a full pardon. The government was well provided with spies, and the duke inspected personally the daily list of travellers which the inn-keepers were strictly ordered to present. Under Borso, who was anxious to leave no distinguished stranger unhonoured, this regulation served a hospitable purpose; Ercole I used it simply as a measure of precaution. In Bologna, too, it was then the rule, under Giovanni II Bentivoglio, that every passing traveller who entered at one gate must obtain a ticket in order to go out at another. An unfailing means of popularity was the sudden dismissal of oppressive officials. When Borso arrested in person his chief and confidential counsellors, when Ercole I removed and disgraced a tax-gatherer who for years had been sucking the blood of the people, bonfires were lighted and the bells were pealed in their honour. With one of his servants, however, Ercole let things go too far. The director of the police, or by whatever name we should choose to call him (capitano di giustizia), was Gregorio Zampante of Lucca — a native being unsuited for an office of this kind. Even the sons and brothers of the duke trembled before this man; the fines he inflicted amounted to hundreds and thousands of ducats, and torture was applied even before the hearing of a case: bribes were accepted from wealthy criminals, and their pardon obtained from the duke by false representations. Gladly would the people have paid any sum to this ruler for sending away the 'enemy of God and man'. But Ercole had knighted him and made him godfather to his children; and year by year Zampante laid by 2,000 ducats. He dared only eat pigeons bred in his own house, and could not cross the street without a band of archers and bravos. It was time to get rid of him; in 1496 two students and a converted Jew whom he had mortally offended killed him in his house while he was taking his siesta, and then rode through the town on horses held in waiting, raising the cry, 'Come out! Come out! We have slain Zampante!' The pursuers came too late, and found them already safe across the frontier. Of course it now rained satires — some of them in the form of sonnets, others of odes.

It was wholly in the spirit of this system that the sovereign imposed his own respect for useful servants on the court and on the people. When in 1469 Borso's privy councillor Lodovico Casella died, no court of law or place of business in the city, and no lecture-room at the university, was allowed to be open: all had to follow the body to San Domenico, since the duke intended to be present. And, in fact, 'the first of the house of Este who attended the corpse of a subject' walked, clad in black, after the coffin, weeping, while behind him came the relatives of Casella, each conducted by one of the gentlemen of the court: the body of the plain citizen was carried by nobles from the church into the cloister, where it was buried. Indeed this official sympathy with princely emotion first came up in the Italian states. At the root of the practice may be a beautiful, humane sentiment; the utterance of it, especially in the poets, is, as a rule, of equivocal sincerity. One of the youthful poems of Ariosto, on the death of Leonora of Aragon, wife of Ercole I, contains besides the inevitable graveyard flowers, which are scattered in the elegies of all ages, some thoroughly modern features:

This death had given Ferrara a blow which it would not get over for years: its benefactress was now its advocate in heaven, since earth was not worthy of her; truly the angel of Death did not come to her, as to us common mortals, with blood-stained scythe, but fair to behold [onesta] and with so kind a face that every fear was allayed.

But we meet, also, with a sympathy of a different kind. Novelists, depending wholly on the favour of their patrons, tell us the love-stories of the prince, even before his death, in a way which, to later times, would seem the height of indiscretion, but which then passed simply as an innocent compliment. Lyrical poets even went so far as to sing the illicit flames of their lawfully married lords, e. g. Angelo Poliziano, those of Lorenzo the Magnificent, and Gioviano Pontano, with a singular gusto, those of Alfonso of Calabria. The poem in question betrays unconsciously the odious disposition of the Aragonese ruler; in these things too, he must needs be the most fortunate, else woe be to those who are more successful! That the greatest artists, for example Leonardo, should paint the mistresses of their patrons was no more than a matter of course.

But the house of Este was not satisfied with the praises of others; it undertook to celebrate them itself. In the Palazzo Schifanoia Borso caused himself to be painted in a series of historical representations, and Ercole (from 1472 on) kept the anniversary of his accession to the throne by a procession which was compared to the feast of Corpus Christi; shops were closed as on Sunday; in the centre of the line walked all the members of the princely house (bastards included) clad in embroidered robes. That the crown was the fountain of honour and authority, that all personal distinction flowed from it alone, had been long expressed at this court by the Order of the Golden Spur — an order which had nothing in common with medieval chivalry. Ercole I added to the spur a sword, a gold-laced mantle and a grant of money, in return for which there is no doubt that regular service was required.

The patronage of art and letters for which this court has obtained a world-wide reputation was exercised through the university, which was one of the most perfect in Italy, and by the gift of places in the personal or official service of the prince; it involved consequently no additional expense. Boiardo, as a wealthy country gentleman and high official, belonged to this class. At the time when Ariosto began to distinguish himself, there existed no court, in the true sense of the word, either at Milan or Florence, and soon there was none either at Urbino or at Naples. He had to content himself with a place among the musicians and jugglers of Cardinal Ippolito till Alfonso took him into his service. It was otherwise at a later time with Torquato Tasso, whose presence at court was jealously sought after.

The Opponents of the Despots

In face of this centralized authority, all legal opposition within the borders of the state was futile. The elements needed for the restoration of a republic had been for ever destroyed, and the field prepared for violence and despotism. The nobles, destitute of political rights, even where they held feudal possessions, might call themselves Guelphs or Ghibellines at will, might dress up their bravos in padded hose and feathered caps or how else they pleased; thoughtful men like Machiavelli knew well enough that Milan and Naples were too 'corrupt' for a republic. Strange judgements fall on these two so-called parties, which now served only to give an official sanction to personal and family disputes. An Italian prince, whom Agrippa of Nettesheim advised to put them down, replied that their quarrels brought him more than 12,000 ducats a year in fines. And when in the year 1500, during the brief return of Lodovico il Moro to his states, the Guelphs of Tortona summoned a part of the neighbouring French army into the city, in order to make an end once for all of their opponents, the French certainly began by plundering and ruining the Ghibellines, but finished by doing the same to the Guelphs, till Tortona was utterly laid waste. In Romagna, the hotbed of every ferocious passion, these two names had long lost all political meaning. It was a sign of the political delusion of the people that they not seldom believed the Guelphs to be the natural allies of the French and the Ghibellines of the Spaniards. It is hard to see that those who tried to profit by this error got much by doing so. France, after all her interventions, had to abandon the peninsula at last, and what became of Spain, after she had destroyed Italy, is known to every reader.

But to return to the despots of the Renaissance. A pure and simple mind, we might think, would perhaps have argued that, since all power is derived from God, these princes, if they were loyally and honestly supported by all their subjects, must in time themselves improve and lose all traces of their violent origin. But from characters and imaginations inflamed by passion and ambition, reasoning of this kind could not be expected. Like bad physicians, they thought to cure the disease by removing the symptoms, and fancied that if the tyrant were put to death, freedom would follow of itself. Or else, without reflecting even to this extent, they sought only to give a vent to the universal hatred, or to take vengeance for some family misfortune or personal affront. Since the governments were absolute, and free from all legal restraints, the opposition chose its weapons with equal freedom. Boccaccio declares openly:

Shall I call the tyrant king or prince, and obey him loyally as my lord? No, for he is the enemy of the commonwealth. Against him I may use arms, conspiracies, spies, ambushes and fraud; to do so is a sacred and necessary work. There is no more acceptable sacrifice than the blood of a tyrant.

We need not occupy ourselves with individual cases; Machiavelli, in a famous chapter of his Discorsi, treats of the conspiracies of ancient and modern times from the days of the Greek tyrants downwards, and classifies them with cold-blooded indifference according to their various plans and results. We need make but two observations, first on the murders committed in church, and next on the influence of classical antiquity. So well was the tyrant guarded that it was almost impossible to lay hands upon him elsewhere than at solemn religious services; and on no other occasion was the whole family to be found assembled together. It was thus that the Fabrianese murdered the members of their ruling house, the Chiavelli, during high mass (1435), the signal being given by the words of the Creed, 'Et incarnatus est.' At Milan the Duke Giovan Maria Visconti (1412) was assassinated at the entrance of the church of San Gottardo, Galeazzo Maria Sforza (1476) in the church of Santo Stefano, and Lodovico il Moro only escaped (1484) the daggers of the adherents of the widowed Duchess Bona through entering the church of Sant' Ambrogio by another door than that by which he was expected. There was no intentional impiety in the act; the assassins of Galeazzo did not fail to pray before the murder to the patron saint of the church, and to listen devoutly to the first mass. It was, however, one cause of the partial failure of the conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano Medici (1478), that the brigand Montesecco, who had bargained to commit the murder at a banquet, declined to undertake it in the cathedral of Florence. Certain of the clergy 'who were familiar with the sacred place, and consequently had no fear' were induced to act in his stead.

As to the imitation of antiquity, the influence of which on moral and more especially on political questions we shall often refer to, the example was set by the rulers themselves, who, both in their conception of the state and intheir personal conduct, took the old Roman empire avowedly as their model. In like manner their opponents, when they set to work with a deliberate theory, took pattern by the ancient tyrannicides. It may be hard to prove that in the main point — in forming the resolve itself — they consciously followed a classical example; but the appeal to antiquity was no mere phrase. The most striking disclosures have been left us with respect to the murderers of Galeazzo Sforza — Lampugnani, Olgiati and Visconti. Though all three had personal ends to serve, yet their enterprise may be partly ascribed to a more general reason. About this time Cola de' Montani, a humanist and professor of eloquence, had awakened among many of the young Milanese nobility a vague passion for glory and patriotic achievements, and had mentioned to Lampugnani and Olgiati his hope of delivering Milan. Suspicion was soon aroused against him: he was banished from the city, and his pupils were abandoned to the fanaticism he had excited. Some ten days before the deed they met together and took a solemn oath in the monastery of Sant' Ambrogio. 'Then,' says Olgiati, 'in a remote corner I raised my eyes before the picture of the patron saint, and implored his help for ourselves and for all his people.' The heavenly protector of the city was called on to bless the undertaking, as was afterwards St Stephen, in whose church it was fulfilled. Many of their comrades were now informed of the plot, nightly meetings were held in the house of Lampugnani, and the conspirators practised for the murder with the sheaths of their daggers. The attempt was successful, but Lampugnani was killed on the spot by the attendants of the duke; the others were captured. Visconti was penitent, but Olgiati through all his tortures maintained that the deed was an acceptable offering to God, and exclaimed while the executioner was breaking his ribs, 'Courage, Girolamo! Thou wilt long be remembered; death is bitter, but glory is eternal.'

But however idealistic the object and purpose of such conspiracies may appear, the manner in which they were conducted betrays the influence of that worst of all conspirators, Catiline — a man in whose thoughts freedom had no place whatever. The annals of Siena tell us expressly that the conspirators were students of Sallust, and the fact is indirectly confirmed by the confession of Olgiati. Elsewhere, too, we meet with the name of Catiline, and a more attractive pattern of the conspirator, apart from the end he followed, could hardly be discovered.

Among the Florentines, whenever they got rid of, or tried to get rid of, the Medici, tyrannicide was a practice universally accepted and approved. After the flight of the Medici in 1494, the bronze group of Donatello — Judith with the dead Holofernes — was taken from their collection, and placed before the Palazzo della Signoria, on the spot where the David of Michelangelo now stands, with the inscription, 'Exemplum salutis publicae cives posuere 1495'. No example was more popular than that of the younger Brutus, who, in Dante, lies with Cassius and Judas Iscariot in the lowest pit of hell, because of his treason to the empire. Pietro Paolo Boscoli, whose plot against Giuliano, Giovanni and Giulio Medici failed (1513), was an enthusiastic admirer of Brutus, and in order to follow his steps, only waited to find a Cassius. Such a partner he met with in Agostino Capponi. His last utterances in prison — a striking evidence of the religious feeling of the time — show with what an effort he rid his mind of these classical imaginations, in order to die like a Christian. A friend and the confessor both had to assure him that St Thomas Aquinas condemned conspirators absolutely; but the confessor afterwards admitted to the same friend that St Thomas drew a distinction and permitted conspiracies against a tyrant who had forced himself on a people against their will.

After Lorenzino Medici had murdered the Duke Alessandro (1537), and then escaped, an apology for the deed appeared, which is probably his own work, and certainly composed in his interest, in which he praises tyrannicide as an act of the highest merit; on the supposition that Alessandro was a legitimate Medici, and, therefore, related to him, if only distantly, he boldly compares himself with Timoleon, who slew his brother for his country's sake. Others, on the same occasion, made use of the comparison with Brutus, and that Michelangelo himself, even late in life, was not unfriendly to ideas of this kind, may be inferred from his bust of Brutus in the Bargello. He left it unfinished, like nearly all his works, but certainly not because the murder of Cesare was repugnant to his feeling, as the couplet beneath declares.

A popular radicalism in the form in which it is opposed to the monarchies of later times is not to be found in the despotic states of the Renaissance. Each individual protested inwardly against despotism but was rather disposed to make tolerable or profitable terms with it, than to combine with others for its destruction. Things must have been as bad as at Camerino, Fabriano or Rimini before the citizens united to destroy or expel the ruling house. They knew in most cases only too well that this would but mean a change of masters. The star of the republics was certainly on the decline.

The Republics: Venice and Florence

The Italian municipalities had, in earlier days, given signal proof of that force which transforms the city into the state. It remained only that these cities should combine in a great confederation; and this idea was constantly recurring to Italian statesmen, whatever differences of form it might from time to time display. In fact, during the struggles of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, great and formidable leagues actually were formed by the cities; and Sismondi is of the opinion that the time of the final armaments of the Lombard confederation against Barbarossa (from 1168 on) was the moment when a universal Italian league was possible. But the more powerful states had already developed characteristic features which made any such scheme impracticable. In their commercial dealings they shrank from no measures, however extreme, which might damage their competitors; they held their weaker neighbours in a condition of helpless dependence — in short, they each fancied they could get on by themselves without the assistance of the rest, and thus paved the way for future usurpation. The usurper was forthcoming when long conflicts between the nobility and the people, and between the different factions of the nobility, had awakened the desire for a strong government, and when bands of mercenaries ready and willing to sell their aid to the highest bidder had superseded the general levy of the citizens, which party leaders now found unsuited to their purposes. The tyrants destroyed the freedom of most of the cities; here and there they were expelled, but not thoroughly, or only for a short time; and they were always restored, since the inward conditions were favourable to them, and the opposing forces were exhausted.

Among the cities which maintained their independence are two of deep significance for the history of the human race: Florence, the city of incessant movement, which has left us a record of the thoughts and aspirations of each and all who, for three centuries, took part in this movement, and Venice, the city of apparent stagnation and of political secrecy. No contrast can be imagined stronger than that which is offered us by these two, and neither can be compared to anything else which the world had hitherto produced.

Venice recognized itself from the first as a strange and mysterious creation — the fruits of a higher power than human ingenuity. The solemn foundation of the city was the subject of a legend. On 25 March 413, at midday, the emigrants from Padua laid the first stone at the Rialto, that they might have a sacred, inviolable asylum amid the devastations of the barbarians. Later writers attributed to the founders the presentiment of the future greatness of the city; M. Antonio Sabellico, who has celebrated the event in the dignified flow of his hexameters, makes the priest who completes the act of consecration cry to heaven, 'When we hereafter attempt great things, grant us prosperity! Now we kneel before a poor altar; but if our vows are not made in vain, a hundred temples, O God, of gold and marble shall arise to Thee.' The island city at the end of the fifteenth century was the jewel-casket of the world. It is so described by the same Sabellico, with its ancient cupolas, its leaning towers, its inlaid marble facades, its compressed splendour, when the richest decoration did not hinder the practical employment of every corner of space. He takes us to the crowded piazza before San Giacometto at the Rialto, where the business of the world is transacted, not amid shouting and confusion, but with the subdued hum of many voices; where in the porticoes round the square and in those of the adjoining streets sit hundreds of money-changers and goldsmiths, with endless rows of shops and warehouses above their heads. He describes the great Fondaco of the Germans beyond the bridge, where their goods and their dwellings lay, and before which their ships are drawn up side by side in the canal; higher up is a whole fleet laden with wine and oil, and parallel with it, on the shore swarming with porters, are the vaults of the merchants; then from the Rialto to the square of St Mark come the inns and the perfumers' cabinets. So he conducts the reader from one quarter of the city to another till he comes at last to the two hospitals which were among those institutions of public utility nowhere so numerous as at Venice. Care for the people, in peace as well as in war, was characteristic of this government, and its attention to the wounded, even to those of the enemy, excited the admiration of other states.

Public institutions of every kind found in Venice their pattern; the pensioning of retired servants was carried out systematically, and included a provision for widows and orphans. Wealth, political security and acquaintance with other countries had matured the understanding of such questions. These slender fair-haired men with quiet cautious steps and deliberate speech differed but slightly in costume and bearing from one another; ornaments, especially pearls, were reserved for the women and girls. At that time the general prosperity, notwithstanding the losses sustained from the Turks, was still dazzling; the stores of energy which the city possessed and the prejudice in its favour diffused throughout Europe enabled it at a much later time to survive the heavy blows which were inflicted by the discovery of the sea route to the Indies, by the fall of the Mamelukes in Egypt, and by the war of the League of Cambrai.

Sabellico, born in the neighbourhood of Tivoli, and accustomed to the frank loquacity of the scholars of his day, remarks elsewhere with some astonishment that the young nobles who came of a morning to hear his lectures could not be prevailed on to enter into political discussions. 'When I ask them what people think, say and expect about this or that movement in Italy, they all answer with one voice that they know nothing about the matter.' Still, in spite of the strict imposition of the state, much was to be learned from the more corrupt members of the aristocracy by those who were willing to pay enough for it. In the last quarter of the fifteenth century there were traitors among the highest officials; the popes, the Italian princes, and even second-rate condottieri in the service of the government had informers in their pay, sometimes with regular salaries; things went so far that the Council of Ten found it prudent to conceal important political news from the Council of the Pregadi, and it was even supposed that Lodovico il Moro had control of a definite number of votes among the latter. Whether the hanging of single offenders and the high rewards — such as a life-pension of sixty ducats paid to those who informed against them — were of much avail, it is hard to decide; one of the chief causes of this evil, the poverty of many of the nobility, could not be removed in a day. In the year 1492 a proposal was urged by two of that order, that the state should spend 70,000 ducats for the relief of those poorer nobles who held no public office; the matter was near coming before the Great Council, in which it might have had a majority, when the Council of Ten interfered in time and banished the two proposers for life to Nicosia in Cyprus. About this time a Soranzo was hanged, though not in Venice itself, for sacrilege, and a Contarini put in chains for burglary; another of the same family came in 1499 before the Signoria, and complained that for many years he had been without an office, that he had only sixteen ducats a year and nine children, that his debts amounted to sixty ducats, that he knew no trade and had lately been turned on to the streets. We can understand why some of the wealthier nobles built houses, sometimes whole rows of them, to provide free lodging for their needy comrades. Such works figure in wills among deeds of charity.

But if the enemies of Venice ever founded serious hopes upon abuses of this kind, they were greatly in error. It might be thought that the commercial activity of the city, which put within reach of the humblest a rich reward for their labour, and the colonies on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean would have diverted from political affairs the dangerous elements of society. But had not the political history of Genoa, notwithstanding similar advantages, been of the stormiest? The cause of the stability of Venice lies rather in a combination of circumstances which were found in union nowhere else. Unassailable from its position, it had been able from the beginning to treat of foreign affairs with the fullest and calmest reflection and ignore nearly altogether the parties which divided the rest of Italy, to escape the entanglement of permanent alliances, and to set the highest price on those which it thought fit to make. The keynote of the Venetian character was, consequently, a spirit of proud and contemptuous isolation, which, joined to the hatred felt for the city by the other states of Italy, gave rise to a strong sense of solidarity within. The inhabitants meanwhile were united by the most powerful ties of interest in dealing both with the colonies and with the possessions on the mainland, forcing the population of the latter, that is, of all the towns up to Bergamo, to buy and sell in Venice alone. A power which rested on means so artificial could only be maintained by internal harmony and unity; and this conviction was so widely diffused among the citizens that the conspirator found few elements to work upon. And the discontented, if there were such, were held so far apart by the division between the noble and the burgher that a mutual understanding was not easy. On the other hand, within the ranks of the nobility itself, travel, commercial enterprise and the incessant wars with the Turks saved the wealthy and dangerous from that fruitful source of conspiracies — idleness. In these wars they were spared, often to a criminal extent, by the general in command, and the fall of the city was predicted by a Venetian Cato, if this fear of the nobles 'to give one another pain' should continue at the expense of justice. Nevertheless this free movement in the open air gave the Venetian aristocracy, as a whole, a healthy bias.

And when envy and ambition called for satisfaction an official victim was forthcoming, and legal means and authorities were ready. The moral torture, which for years the Doge Francesco Foscari (d. 1457) suffered before the eyes of all Venice, is a frightful example of a vengeance possible only in an aristocracy. The Council of Ten, which had a hand in everything, which disposed without appeal of life and death, of financial affairs and military appointments, which included the Inquisitors among its number, and which overthrew Foscari, as it had overthrown so many powerful men before — this council was yearly chosen afresh from the whole governing body, the Gran Consiglio, and was consequently the most direct expression of its will. It is not probable that serious intrigues occurred at these elections, as the short duration of the office and the accountability which followed rendered it an object of no great desire. But violent and mysterious as the proceedings of this and other authorities might be, the genuine Venetian courted rather than fled their sentence, not only because the republic had long arms, and if it could not catch him might punish his family, but because in most cases it acted from rational motives and not from a thirst for blood. No state, indeed, has ever exercised a greater moral influence over its subjects, whether abroad or at home. If traitors were to be found among the Pregadi, there was ample compensation for this in the fact that every Venetian away from home was a born spy for his government. It was a matter of course that the Venetian cardinals at Rome sent home news of the transactions of the secret papal consistories. The Cardinal Domenico Grimani had the dispatches intercepted in the neighbourhood of Rome (1500) which Ascanio Sforza was sending to his brother Lodovico it Moro, and forwarded them to Venice; his father, then exposed to a serious accusation, claimed public credit for this service of his son before the Gran Consiglio; in other words, before all the world.

The conduct of the Venetian government to the condottieri in its pay has been spoken of already. The only further guarantee of their fidelity which could be obtained lay in their great number, by which treachery was made as difficult as its discovery was easy. In looking at the Venetian army list, one is only surprised that among forces of such miscellaneous composition any common action was possible. In the catalogue for the campaign of 1495 we find 15,526 horsemen, broken up into a number of small divisions. Gonzaga of Mantua alone had as many as 1,200, and Gioffredo Borgia 740; then follow six officers with a contingent of 600 to 700, ten with 400, twelve with 400 to 200, fourteen or thereabouts with 200 to 100, nine with 80, six with 50 to 60, and so forth. These forces were partly composed of old Venetian troops, partly of veterans led by Venetian city or country nobles; the majority of the leaders were, however, princes and rulers of cities or their relatives. To these forces must be added 24,000 infantry — we are not told how they were raised or commanded — with 3,300 additional troops, who probably belonged to the special services. In time of peace the cities of the mainland were wholly unprotected or occupied by insignificant garrisons. Venice relied, if not exactly on the loyalty, at least on the good sense of its subjects; in the war of the League of Cambrai (1509) it absolved them, as is well known, from their oath of allegiance, and let them compare the amenities of a foreign occupation with the mild government to which they had been accustomed. As there had been no treason in their desertion of St Mark, and consequently no punishment was to be feared, they returned to their old masters with the utmost eagerness. This war, we may remark parenthetically, was the result of a century's outcry against the Venetian desire for aggrandizement. The Venetians, in fact, were not free from the mistake of those over-lever people who will credit their opponents with no irrational and inconsiderate conduct. Misled by this optimism, which is, perhaps, a peculiar weakness of aristocracies, they had utterly ignored not only the preparations of Muhammad II for the capture of Constantinople, but even the armaments of Charles VIII, till the unexpected blow fell at last. The League of Cambrai was an event of the same character, in so far as it was clearly opposed to the interests of the two chief members, Louis XII and Julius II. The hatred of all Italy against the victorious city seemed to be concentrated in the mind of the pope, and to have blinded him to the evils of foreign intervention; and as to the policy of Cardinal d'Amboise and his king, Venice ought long before to have recognized it as a piece of malicious imbecility, and to have been thoroughly on its guard. The other members of the League took part in it from that envy which may be a salutary corrective to great wealth and power, but which in itself is a beggarly sentiment. Venice came out of the conflict with honour, but not without lasting damage.

A power, whose foundations were so complicated, whose activity and interests filled so wide a stage, cannot be imagined without a systematic oversight of the whole, without a regular estimate of means and burdens, of profits and losses. Venice can fairly make good its claim to be the birthplace of statistical science, together, perhaps, with Florence, and followed by the more enlightened despotisms. The feudal state of the Middle Ages knew of nothing more than catalogues of signorial rights and possessions (urbaria); it looked on production as a fixed quantity, which it approximately is, so long as we have to do with landed property only. The towns, on the other hand, throughout the West must from very early times have treated production, which with them depended on industry and commerce, as exceedingly variable; but, even in the most flourishing times of the Hanseatic League, they never got beyond a simple commercial balance-sheet. Fleets, armies, political power and influence fall under the debit and credit of a trader's ledger. In the Italian states a clear political consciousness, the pattern of Muhammadan administration, and the long and active exercise of trade and commerce combined to produce for the first time a true science of statistics. The absolute monarchy of Frederick II in Lower Italy was organized with the sole object of securing a concentrated power for the death-struggle in which he was engaged. In Venice, on the contrary, the supreme objects were the enjoyment of life and power, the increase of inherited advantages, the creation of the most lucrative forms of industry, and the opening of new channels for commerce.

The writers of the time speak of these things with the greatest freedom. We learn that the population of the city amounted in the year 1422 to 190,000 souls; the Italians were, perhaps, the first to reckon, not according to hearths, or men able to bear arms, or people able to walk, and so forth, but according to animae, and thus to get the most neutral basis for further calculation. About this time, when the Florentines wished to form an alliance with Venice against Filippo Maria Visconti, they were for the moment refused, in the belief, resting on accurate commercial returns, that a war between Venice and Milan, that is, between seller and buyer, was foolish. Even if the duke simply increased his army, the Milanese, through the heavier taxation they must pay, would become worse customers. 'Better let the Florentines be defeated, and then, used as they are to the life of a free city, they will settle with us and bring their silk and woollen industry with them, as the Lucchese did in their distress.' The speech of the dying Doge Mocenigo (1423) to a few of the senators whom he had sent for to his bedside is still more remarkable. It contains the chief elements of a statistical account of the whole resources of Venice. I cannot say whether or where a thorough elucidation of this perplexing document exists; by way of illustration, the following facts may be quoted. After repaying a war-loan of four million ducats, the public debt (il monte) still amounted to six million ducats; the current trade (so it seems) ten million, which yielded, the text informs us, a profit of four million. The 3,000 navigli, the 300 navi, and the 45 galleys were manned respectively by 17,000, 8,000 and 11,ooo seamen (more than 200 for each galley). To these must be added 16,000 shipwrights. The houses in Venice were valued at seven million, and brought in a rent of half a million. There were 1,000 nobles whose income ranged from 70 to 4,000 ducats. In another passage the ordinary income of the state in that same year is put at 1,100,000 ducats; through the disturbance of trade caused by the wars it sank about the middle of the century to 800,000 ducats.

If Venice, by this spirit of calculation, and by the practical turn which she gave it, was the first fully to represent one important side of modern political life, in that culture, on the other hand, which Italy then prized most highly she did not stand in the front rank. The literary impulse, in general, was here wanting, and especially that enthusiasm for classical antiquity which prevailed elsewhere. The aptitude of the Venetians, says Sabellico, for philosophy and eloquence was in itself not less remarkable than for commerce and politics. George of Trebizond, who, in 1459, laid the Latin translation of Plato's Laws at the feet of the doge, was appointed professor of philology with a yearly salary of 150 ducats, and finally dedicated his Rhetoric to the Signoria. If, however, we look through the history of Venetian literature which Francesco Sansovino has appended to his well-known book, we shall find in the fourteenth century almost nothing but history, and special works on theology, jurisprudence and medicine; and in the fifteenth century, till we come to Ermolao Barbaro and Aldo Manucci, humanistic culture is, for a city of such importance, most scantily represented. The library which Cardinal Bessarion bequeathed to the state (1468) narrowly escaped dispersion and destruction. Learning was certainly cultivated at the university of Padua, where, however, the physicians and the jurists — the latter as the authors of legal opinions — received by far the highest pay. The share of Venice in the poetical creations of the country was long insignificant, till, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, her deficiencies were made good. Even the art of the Renaissance was imported into the city from without, and it was not before the end of the fifteenth century that she learned to move in this field with independent freedom and strength. But we find more striking instances still of intellectual backwardness. This government, which had the clergy so thoroughly in its control, which reserved to itself the appointment to all important ecclesiastical offices, and which, one time after another, dared to defy the court of Rome, displayed an official piety of a most singular kind. The bodies of saints and other relics imported from Greece after the Turkish conquest were bought at the greatest sacrifices and received by the doge in solemn procession. For the coat without a seam it was decided (1455) to offer 10,000 ducats, but it was not to be had. These measures were not the fruit of any popular excitement, but of the tranquil resolutions of the heads of the government, and might have been omitted without attracting any comment, and at Florence, under similar circumstances, would certainly have been omitted. We shall say nothing of the piety of the masses, and of their firm belief in the indulgences of an Alexander VI. But the state itself, after absorbing the Church to a degree unknown elsewhere, had in truth a certain ecclesiastical element in its composition, and the doge, the symbol of the state, appeared in twelve great processions (andate) in a half-clerical character. They were almost all festivals in memory of political events, and competed in splendour with the great feasts of the Church; the most brilliant of all, the famous marriage with the sea, fell on Ascension Day.

The most elevated political thought and the most varied forms of human development are found united in the history of Florence, which in this sense deserves the name of the most modern state in the world. Here the whole people are busied with what in the despotic cities is the affair of a single family. That wondrous Florentine spirit, at once keenly critical and artistically creative, was incessantly transforming the social and political condition of the state, and as incessantly describing and judging the change. Florence thus became the home of political doctrines and theories, of experiments and sudden changes, but also, like Venice, the home of statistical science, and alone and above all other states in the world, the home of historical representation in the modern sense of the phrase. The spectacle of ancient Rome and a familiarity with its leading writers were not without influence; Giovanni Villani confesses that he received the first impulse to his great work at the jubilee of the year 1300, and began it immediately on his return home. Yet how many among the 200,000 pilgrims of that year may have been like him in gifts and tendencies and still did not write the history of their native cities! For not all of them could encourage themselves with the thought, 'Rome is sinking; my native city is rising, and ready to achieve great things, and therefore I wish to relate its past history, and hope to continue the story to the present time, and as long as my life shall last.' And besides the witness to its past, Florence obtained through its historians something further — a greater fame than fell to the lot of any other city of Italy.

Our present task is not to write the history of this remarkable state, but merely to give a few indications of the intellectual freedom and independence for which the Florentines were indebted to this history.

In no other city of Italy were the struggles of political parties so bitter, of such early origin, and so permanent. The descriptions of them, which belong, it is true, to a somewhat later period, give clear evidence of the superiority of Florentine criticism.

And what a politician is the great victim of these crises, Dante Alighieri, matured alike by home and by exile! He uttered his scorn of the incessant changes and experiments in the constitution of his native city in verses of adamant, which will remain proverbial so long as political events of the same kind recur; he addressed his home in words of defiance and yearning which must have stirred the hearts of his countrymen. But his thoughts ranged over Italy and the whole world; and if his passion for the Empire, as he conceived it, was no more than an illusion, it must yet be admitted that the youthful dreams of a newborn political speculation are in his case not without a poetical grandeur. He is proud to be the first who trod this path, certainly in the footsteps of Aristotle, but in his own way independently. His ideal emperor is a just and humane judge, dependent on God only, the heir of the universal sway of Rome to which belonged the sanction of nature, of right and of the will of God. The conquest of the world was, according to this view, rightful, resting on a divine judgement between Rome and the other nations of the earth, and God gave his approval to this Empire, since under it he became Man, submitting at his birth to the census of the Emperor Augustus, and at his death to the judgement of Pontius Pilate. We may find it hard to appreciate these and other arguments of the same kind, but Dante's passion never fails to carry us with him. In his letters he appears as one of the earliest publicists, and is perhaps the first layman to publish political tracts in this form. He began early. Soon after the death of Beatrice he addressed a pamphlet on the state of Florence 'to the Great ones of the Earth', and the public utterances of his later years, dating from the time of his banishment, are all directed to emperors, princes and cardinals. In these letters and in his book De Vulgari Eloquio the feeling, bought with such bitter pains, is constantly recurring that the exile may find elsewhere than in his native place an intellectual home in language and culture, which cannot be taken from him. On this point we shall have more to say in the sequel.

To the two Villani, Giovanni as well as Matteo, we owe not so much deep political reflection as fresh and practical observations, together with the elements of Florentine statistics and important notices of other states. Here too trade and commerce had given the impulse to economical as well as political science. Nowhere else in the world was such accurate information to be had on financial affairs. The wealth of the papal court at Avignon, which at the death of John XXII amounted to 25 million gold florins, would be incredible on any less trustworthy authority. Here only, at Florence, do we meet with colossal loans like that which the King of England contracted from the Florentine houses of Bardi and Peruzzi, who lost to His Majesty the sum of 1,365,000 gold florins (1338) — their own money and that of their partners — and nevertheless recovered from the shock. Most important facts are here recorded as to the condition of Florence at this time: the public income (over 300,000 gold florins) and expenditure; the population of the city, here only roughly estimated, according to the consumption of bread, in bocche, i. e. mouths, put at 90,000, and the population of the whole territory; the excess of 300 to 500 male children among the 5,800 to 6,000 annually baptized; the schoolchildren, of whom 8,000 to 10,000 learned reading, 1,000 to 1,200 in six schools arithmetic; and besides these, 600 scholars who were taught Latin grammar and logic in four schools. Then follow the statistics of the churches and monasteries; of the hospitals, which held more than a thousand beds; of the wool-trade, with its most valuable details; of the mint, the provisioning of the city, the public officials, and so on. Incidentally we learn many curious facts; how, for instance, when the public funds (monte) were first established, in the year 1353, the Franciscans spoke from the pulpit in favour of the measure, the Dominicans and Augustinians against it. The economical results of the black death were and could be observed and described nowhere else in all Europe as in this city. Only a Florentine could have left it on record how it was expected that the scanty population would have made everything cheap, and how instead of that labour and commodities doubled in price; how the common people at first would do no work at all, but simply gave themselves up to enjoyment; how in the city itself servants and maids were not to be had except at extravagant wages; how the peasants would only till the best lands, and left the rest uncultivated; and how the enormous legacies bequeathed to the poor at the time of the plague seemed afterwards useless, since the poor had either died or had ceased to be poor. Lastly, on the occasion of a great bequest, by which a childless philanthropist left six danari to every beggar in the city, the attempt is made to give a comprehensive statistical account of Florentine mendicancy.

This statistical view of things was at a later time still more highly cultivated at Florence. The noteworthy point about it is that, as a rule, we can perceive its connection with the higher aspects of history, with art, and with culture in general. An inventory of the year 1422 mentions, within the compass of the same document, the seventy-two exchange offices which surrounded the Mercato Nuovo; the amount of coined money in circulation (2 million golden florins); the then new industry of gold spinning; the silk wares; Filippo Brunellesco, then busy in digging classical architecture from its grave; and Leonardo Aretino, secretary of the republic, at work at the revival of ancient literature and eloquence; lastly, it speaks of the general prosperity of the city, then free from political conflicts, and of the good fortune of Italy, which had rid itself of foreign mercenaries. The Venetian statistics quoted above, which date from about the same year, certainly give evidence of larger property and profits and of a more extensive scene of action; Venice had long been mistress of the seas before Florence sent out its first galleys (1422) to Alexandria. But no reader can fail to recognize the higher spirit of the Florentine documents. These and similar lists recur at intervals of ten years, systematically arranged and tabulated, while elsewhere we find at best occasional notices. We can form an approximate estimate of the property and the business of the first Medici; they paid for charities, public buildings and taxes from 1434 to 1471 no less than 663,755 gold florins, of which more than 400,000 fell on Cosimo alone, and Lorenzo il Magnifico was delighted that the money had been so well spent. In 1478 we have again a most important and in its way complete view of the commerce and trades of this city, some of which may be wholly or partly reckoned among the fine arts — such as those which had to do with damasks and gold or silver embroidery, with woodcarving and intarsia, with the sculpture of arabesques in marble and sandstone, with portraits in wax, and with jewellery and work in gold. The inborn talent of the Florentines for the systematization of outward life is shown by their books on agriculture, business and domestic economy, which are markedly superior to those of other European people in the fifteenth century. It has been rightly decided to publish selections of these works, although no little study will be needed to extract clear and definite results from them. At all events, we have no difficulty in recognizing the city, where dying parents begged the government in their wills to fine their sons 1,000 florins if they declined to practise a regular profession.

For the first half of the sixteenth century probably no state in the world possesses a document like the magnificent description of Florence by Varchi. In descriptive statistics, as in so many things besides, yet another model is left to us, before the freedom and greatness of the city sank into the grave.

This statistical estimate of outward life is, however, uniformly accompanied by the narrative of political events to which we have already referred.

Florence not only existed under political forms more varied than those of the free states of Italy and of Europe generally, but it reflected upon them far more deeply. It is a faithful mirror of the relations of individuals and classes to a variable whole. The pictures of the great civic democracies in France and in Flanders, as they are delineated in Froissart, and the narratives of the German chroniclers of the fourteenth century, are in truth of high importance; but in comprehensiveness of thought and in the rational development of the story none will bear comparison with the Florentines. The rule of the nobility, the tyrannies, the struggles of the middle class with the proletariat, limited and unlimited democracy, pseudo-democracy, the primacy of a single house, the theocracy of Savonarola, and the mixed forms of government which prepared the way for the Medicean despotism — all are so described that the inmost motives of the actors are laid bare to the light. At length Machiavelli in his Florentine history (down to 1492) represents his native city as a living organism and its development as a natural and individual process; he is the first of the moderns who has risen to such a conception. It lies without our province to determine whether and in what points Machiavelli may have done violence to history, as is notoriously the case in his life of Castruccio Castracani — a fancy picture of the typical despot. We might find something to say against every line of the Storie Fiorentine, and yet the great and unique value of the whole would remain unaffected. And his contemporaries and successors, Jacopo Pitti, Guicciardini, Segni, Varchi, Vettori, what a circle of illustrious names! And what a story it is which these masters tell us! The great and memorable drama of the last decades of the Florentine republic is here unfolded. The voluminous record of the collapse of the highest and most original life which the world could then show may appear to one but as a collection of curiosities, may awaken in another a devilish delight at the shipwreck of so much nobility and grandeur, to a third may seem like a great historical assize; for all it will be an object of thought and study to the end of time. The evil, which was for ever troubling the peace of the city, was its rule over once powerful and now conquered rivals like Pisa — a rule of which the necessary consequence was a chronic state of violence. The only remedy, certainly an extreme one and which none but Savonarola could have persuaded Florence to accept, and that only with the help of favourable chances, would have been the well-timed dissolution of Tuscany into a federal union of free cities. At a later period this scheme, then no more than the dream of a past age, brought (1548) a patriotic citizen of Lucca to the scaffold. From this evil and from the ill-starred Guelph sympathies of Florence for a foreign prince, which familiarized it with foreign intervention, came all the disasters which followed. But who does not admire the people, which was wrought up by its venerated preacher to a mood of such sustained loftiness, that for the first time in Italy it set the example of sparing a conquered foe, while the whole history of its past taught nothing but vengeance and extermination? The glow which melted patriotism into one with moral regeneration may seem, when looked at from a distance, to have soon passed away; but its best results shine forth again in the memorable siege of 1529—30. They were 'fools', as Guicciardini then wrote, who drew down this storm upon Florence, but he confesses himself that they achieved things which seemed incredible; and when he declares that sensible people would have got out of the way of the danger, he means no more than that Florence ought to have yielded itself silently and ingloriously into the hands of its enemies. It would no doubt have preserved its splendid suburbs and gardens, and the lives and prosperity of countless citizens; but it would have been the poorer by one of its greatest and most ennobling memories.

In many of their chief merits the Florentines are the pattern and the earliest type of Italians and modern Europeans generally; they are so also in many of their defects. When Dante compares the city which was always mending its constitution with the sick man who is continually changing his posture to escape from pain, he touches with the comparison a permanent feature of the political life of Florence. The great modern fallacy that a constitution can be made, can be manufactured by a combination of existing forces and tendencies, was constantly cropping up in stormy times; even Machiavelli is not wholly free from it. Constitutional artists were never wanting who by an ingenious distribution and division of political power, by indirect elections of the most complicated kind, by the establishment of nominal offices, sought to found a lasting order of things, and to satisfy or to deceive the rich and the poor alike. They naïvely fetch their examples from classical antiquity, and borrow the party names ottimati, aristocrazia, as a matter of course. The world since then has become used to these expressions and given them a conventional European sense, whereas all former party names were purely national, and either characterized the cause at issue or sprang from the caprice of accident. But how a name colours or discolours a political cause!

But of all who thought it possible to construct a state, the greatest beyond all comparison was Machiavelli. He treats existing forces as living and active, takes a large and an accurate view of alternative possibilities, and seeks to mislead neither himself nor others. No man could be freer from vanity or ostentation; indeed, he does not write for the public, but either for princes and administrators or for personal friends. The danger for him does not lie in an affectation of genius or in a false order of ideas, but rather in a powerful imagination which he evidently controls with difficulty. The objectivity of his political judgement is sometimes appalling in its sincerity; but it is the sign of a time of no ordinary need and peril, when it was a hard matter to believe in right, or to credit others with just dealing. Virtuous indignation at his expense is thrown away upon us who have seen in what sense political morality is understood by the statesmen of our own century. Machiavelli was at all events able to forget himself in his cause. In truth, although his writings, with the exception of very few words, are altogether destitute of enthusiasm, and although the Florentines themselves treated him at last as a criminal, he was a patriot in the fullest meaning of the word. But free as he was, like most of his contemporaries, in speech and morals, the welfare of the state was yet his first and last thought.

His most complete programme for the construction of a new political system at Florence is set forth in the memorial to Leo X, composed after the death of the younger Lorenzo Medici, Duke of Urbino (d. 1519), to whom he had dedicated his Prince. The state was by that time in extremities and utterly corrupt, and the remedies proposed are not always morally justifiable; but it is most interesting to see how he hopes to set up the republic in the form of a moderate democracy, as heiress to the Medici. A more ingenious scheme of concessions to the pope, to the pope's various adherents, and to the different Florentine interests cannot be imagined; we might fancy ourselves looking into the works of a clock. Principles, observations, comparisons, political forecasts and the like are to be found in numbers in the Discorsi, among them flashes of wonderful insight. He recognizes, for example, the law of a continuous though not uniform development in republican institutions, and requires the constitution to be flexible and capable of change, as the only means of dispensing with bloodshed and banishments. For a like reason, in order to guard against private violence and foreign interference — 'the death of all freedom' — he wishes to see introduced a judicial procedure (accusa) against hated citizens, in place of which Florence had hitherto had nothing but the court of scandal. With a masterly hand the tardy and involuntary decisions are characterized, which at critical moments play so important a part in republican states. Once, it is true, he is misled by his imagination and the pressure of events into unqualified praise of the people, which chooses its officers, he says, better than any prince, and which can be cured of its errors by 'good advice'. With regard to the government of Tuscany, he has no doubt that it belongs to his native city, and maintains, in a special Discorso, that the reconquest of Pisa is a question of life or death; he deplores that Arezzo, after the rebellion of 1502, was not razed to the ground; he admits in general that Italian republics must be allowed to expand freely and add to their territory in order to enjoy peace at home, and not to be themselves attacked by others, but declares that Florence had always begun at the wrong end, and from the first made deadly enemies of Pisa, Lucca and Siena, while Pistoia, 'treated like a brother', had voluntarily submitted to her.

It would be unreasonable to draw a parallel between the few other republics which still existed in the fifteenth century and this unique city — the most important workshop of the Italian, and indeed of the modern European spirit. Siena suffered from the gravest organic maladies, and its relative prosperity in art and industry must not mislead us on this point. Aeneas Sylvius looks with longing from his native town over to the 'merry' German imperial cities, where life is embittered by no confiscations of land and goods, by no arbitrary officials, and by no political factions. Genoa scarcely comes within range of our task, as before the time of Andrea Doria it took almost no part in the Renaissance. Indeed, the inhabitant of the Riviera was proverbial among Italians for his contempt of all higher culture. Party conflicts here assumed so fierce a character, and disturbed so violently the whole course of life, that we can hardly understand how, after so many revolutions and invasions, the Genoese ever contrived to return to an endurable condition. Perhaps it was owing to the fact that nearly all who took part in public affairs were at the same time almost without exception active men of business. The example of Genoa shows in a striking manner with what insecurity wealth and vast commerce, and with what internal disorder the possession of distant colonies, are compatible.

Lucca is of small significance in the fifteenth century.

Foreign Policy

As the majority of the Italian states were in their internal constitution works of art, that is, the fruit of reflection and careful adaptation, so was their relation to one another and to foreign countries also a work of art. That nearly all of them were the result of recent usurpations was a fact which exercised as fatal an influence in their foreign as in their internal policy. Not one of them recognized another without reserve; the same play of chance which had helped to found and consolidate one dynasty might upset another. Nor was it always a matter of choice with the despot whether to keep quiet or not. The necessity of movement and aggrandizement is common to all illegitimate powers. Thus Italy became the scene of a 'foreign policy' which gradually, as in other countries also, acquired the position of a recognized system of public law. The purely objective treatment of international affairs, as free from prejudice as from moral scruples, attained a perfection which sometimes is not without a certain beauty and grandeur of its own. But as a whole it gives us the impression of a bottomless abyss.

Intrigues, armaments, leagues, corruption and treason make up the outward history of Italy at this period. Venice in particular was long accused on all hands of seeking to conquer the whole peninsula, or gradually so to reduce its strength that one state after another must fall into her hands. But on a closer view it is evident that this complaint did not come from the people, but rather from the courts and official classes, which were commonly abhorred by their subjects, while the mild government of Venice had secured for it general confidence. Even Florence, with its restive subject cities, found itself in a false position with regard to Venice, apart from all commercial jealousy and from the progress of Venice in Romagna. At last the League of Cambrai actually did strike a serious blow at the state which all Italy ought to have supported with united strength.

The other states, also, were animated by feelings no less unfriendly, and were at all times ready to use against one another any weapon which their evil conscience might suggest. Lodovico il Moro, the Aragonese kings of Naples and Sixtus IV — to say nothing of the smaller powers — kept Italy in a constant perilous agitation. It would have been well if the atrocious game had been confined to Italy; but it lay in the nature of the case that intervention and help should at last be sought from abroad — in particular from the French and the Turks.

The sympathies of the people at large were throughout on the side of France. Florence had never ceased to confess with shocking naïveté its old Guelph preference for the French. And when Charles VIII actually appeared on the south of the Alps, all Italy accepted him with an enthusiasm which to himself and his followers seemed unaccountable. In the imagination of the Italians, to take Savonarola for an example, the ideal picture of a wise, just and powerful saviour and ruler was still living, with the difference that he was no longer the emperor invoked by Dante, but the Capetian King of France. With his departure the illusion was broken; but it was long before all understood how completely Charles VIII, Louis XII and Francis I had mistaken their true relation to Italy, and by what inferior motives they were led. The princes, for their part, tried to make use of France in a wholly different way. When the Franco-English wars came to an end, when Louis XI began to cast about his diplomatic nets on all sides, and Charles of Burgundy to embark on his foolish adventures, the Italian Cabinets came to meet them at every point. It became clear that the intervention of France was only a question of time, even though the claims on Naples and Milan had never existed, and that the old interference with Genoa and Piedmont was only a type of what was to follow. The Venetians, in fact, expected it as early as 1462. The mortal terror of the Duke Galeazzo Maria of Milan during the Burgundian war, in which he was apparently the ally of Charles as well as of Louis, and consequently had reason to dread an attack from both, is strikingly shown in his correspondence. The plan of an equilibrium of the four chief Italian powers, as understood by Lorenzo the Magnificent, was but the assumption of a cheerful optimistic spirit, which had outgrown both the recklessness of an experimental policy and the superstitions of Florentine Guelphism, and persisted in hoping for the best. When Louis XI offered him aid in the war against Ferrante of Naples and Sixtus IV, he replied, 'I cannot set my own advantage above the safety of all Italy; would to God it never came into the mind of the French kings to try their strength in this country! Should they ever do so, Italy is lost.' For the other princes, the King of France was alternately a bugbear to themselves and to their enemies, and they threatened to call him in whenever they saw no more convenient way out of their difficulties. The popes, in their turn, fancied that they could make use of France without any danger to themselves, and even Innocent VIII imagined that he could withdraw to sulk in the North, and return as a conqueror to Italy at the head of a French army.

Thoughtful men, indeed, foresaw the foreign conquest long before the expedition of Charles VIII. And when Charles was back again on the other side of the Alps, it was plain to every eye that an era of intervention had begun. Misfortune now followed on misfortune; it was understood too late that France and Spain, the two chief invaders, had become great European powers, that they would be no longer satisfied with verbal homage, but would fight to the death for influence and territory in Italy. They had begun to resemble the centralized Italian states, and indeed to copy them, only on a gigantic scale. Schemes of annexation or exchange of territory were for a time indefinitely multiplied. The end, as is well known, was the complete victory of Spain, which, as sword and shield of the Counter-Reformation, long held the papacy among its other subjects. The melancholy reflections of the philosophers could only show them how those who had called in the barbarians all came to a bad end.

Alliances were at the same time formed with the Turks too, with as little scruple or disguise; they were reckoned no worse than any other political expedients. The belief in the unity of Western Christendom had at various times in the course of the Crusades been seriously shaken, and Frederick II had probably outgrown it. But the fresh advance of the oriental nations, the need and the ruin of the Greek empire, had revived the old feeling, though not in its former strength, throughout Western Europe. Italy, however, was a striking exception to this rule. Great as was the terror felt for the Turks, and the actual danger from them, there was yet scarcely a government of any consequence which did not conspire against other Italian states with Muhammad II and his successors. And when they did not do so, they still had the credit of it; nor was it worse than the sending of emissaries to poison the cisterns of Venice, which was the charge brought against the heirs of Alfonso, King of Naples. From a scoundrel like Sigismondo Malatesta nothing better could be expected than that he should call the Turks into Italy. But the Aragonese monarchs of Naples, from whom Muhammad — at the instigation, we read, of other Italian governments, especially of Venice — had once wrested Otranto (1480), afterwards hounded on the Sultan Bajazet II against the Venetians. The same charge was brought against Lodovico il Moro. 'The blood of the slain, and the misery of the prisoners in the hands of the Turks, cry to God for vengeance against him,' says the state historian. In Venice, wherethe government was informed of everything, it was known that Giovanni Sforza, ruler of Pesaro, the cousin of the Moor, had entertained the Turkish ambassadors on their way to Milan. The two most respectable among the popes of the fifteenth century, Nicholas V and Pius II, died in the deepest grief at the progress of the Turks, the latter indeed amid the preparations for a crusade which he was hoping to lead in person; their successors embezzled the contributions sent for this purpose from all parts of Christendom, and degraded the indulgences granted in return for them into a private commercial speculation. Innocent VIII consented to be gaoler to the fugitive Prince Djem, for a salary paid by the prisoner's brother Bajazet II, and Alexander VI supported the steps taken by Lodovico il Moro in Constantinople to further a Turkish assault upon Venice (1498), whereupon the latter threatened him with a Council. It is clear the notorious alliance between Francis I and Soliman II was nothing new or unheard of.

Indeed, we find instances of whole populations to whom it seemed no particular crime to go over bodily to the Turks. Even if it were only held out as a threat to oppressive governments, this is at least a proof that the idea had become familiar. As early as 1480 Battista Mantovano gives us clearly to understand that most of the inhabitants of the Adriatic coast foresaw something of this kind, and that Ancona in particular desired it. When Romagna was suffering from the oppressive government of Leo X, a deputy from Ravenna said openly to the legate, Cardinal Giulio Medici: 'Monsignore, the honourable Republic of Venice will not have us, for fear of a dispute with the Holy See; but if the Turk comes to Ragusa we will put ourselves into his hands.'

It was a poor but not wholly groundless consolation for the enslavement of Italy then begun by the Spaniards that the country was at least secured from the relapse into barbarism which would have awaited it under the Turkish rule. By itself, divided as it was, it could hardly have escaped this fate.

If, with all these drawbacks, the Italian statesmanship of this period deserves our praise, it is only on the ground of its practical and unprejudiced treatment of those questions which were not affected by fear, passion or malice, Here was no feudal system after the northern fashion, with its artificial scheme of rights; but the power which each possessed he held in practice as in theory. Here was no attendant nobility to foster in the mind of the prince the medieval sense of honour, with all its strange consequences; but princes and counsellors were agreed in acting according to the exigencies of the particular case and to the end they had in view. Towards the men whose services were used and towards allies, come from what quarter they might, no pride of caste was felt which could possibly estrange a supporter; and the class of the condottieri, in which birth was a matter of indifference, shows clearly enough in what sort of hands the real power lay; and lastly, the government, in the hands of an enlightened despot, had an incomparably more accurate acquaintance with its own country and that of its neighbours than was possessed by northern contemporaries, and estimated the economical and moral capacities of friend and foe down to the smallest particular. The rulers were, notwithstanding grave errors, born masters of statistical science. With such men negotiation was possible; it might be presumed that they would be convinced and their opinion modified when practical reasons were laid before them. When the great Alfonso of Naples was (1434) a prisoner of Filippo Maria Visconti, he was able to satisfy his gaoler that the rule of the House of Anjou instead of his own at Naples would make the French masters of Italy; Filippo Maria set him free without ransom and made an alliance with him. A northern prince would scarcely have acted in the same way, certainly not one whose morality in other respects was like that of Visconti. What confidence was felt in the power of self-interest is shown by the celebrated visit which Lorenzo the Magnificent, to the universal astonishment of the Florentines, paid the faithless Ferrante at Naples — a man who would be certainly tempted to keep him a prisoner, and was by no means too scrupulous to do so. For to arrest a powerful monarch, and then to let him go alive, after extorting his signature and otherwise insulting him, as Charles the Bold did to Louis XI at Peronne (1468), seemed madness to the Italians; so that Lorenzo was expected to come back covered with glory, or else not to come back at all. The art of political persuasion was at this time raised to a point — especially by the Venetian ambassadors — of which northern nations first obtained a conception from the Italians, and of which the official addresses give a most imperfect idea. These are mere pieces of humanistic rhetoric. Nor, in spite of an otherwise ceremonious etiquette, was there in case of need any lack of rough and frank speaking in diplomatic intercourse. A man like Machiavelli appears in his Legazioni in an almost pathetic light. Furnished with scanty instructions, shabbily equipped, and treated as an agent of inferior rank, he never loses his gift of free and wide observation or his pleasure in picturesque description.

A special division of this work will treat of the study of man individually and nationally, which among the Italians went hand in hand with the study of the outward conditions of human life.

War as a Work of Art

It must here be briefly indicated by what steps the art of war assumed the character of a product of reflection. Throughout the countries of the West the education of the individual soldier in the Middle Ages was perfect within the limits of the then prevalent system of defence and attack: nor was there any want of ingenious inventors in the arts of besieging and of fortification. But the development both of strategy and of tactics was hindered by the character and duration of military service, and by the ambition of the nobles, who disputed questions of precedence in the face of the enemy, and through simple want of discipline caused the loss of great battles like Crécy and Maupertuis. Italy, on the contrary, was the first country to adopt the system of mercenary troops, which demanded a wholly different organization; and the early introduction of firearms did its part in making war a democratic pursuit, not only because the strongest castles were unable to withstand a bombardment, but because the skill of the engineer, of the gun-founder and of the artillerist — men belonging to another lass than the nobility — was now of the first importance in a campaign. It was felt, with regret, that the value of the individual, which had been the soul of the small and admirably organized bands of mercenaries, would suffer from these novel means of destruction, which did their work at a distance; and there were condottieri who opposed to the utmost the introduction at least of the musket, which had been lately invented in Germany. We read that Paolo Vitelli, while recognizing and himself adopting the cannon, put out the eyes and cut off the hands of the captured schioppettieri of the enemy, because he held it unworthy that a gallant, and it might be noble, knight should be wounded and laid low by a common, despised foot soldier. On the whole, however, the new discoveries were accepted and turned to useful account, till the Italians became the teachers of all Europe, both in the building of fortifications and in the means of attacking them. Princes like Federigo of Urbino and Alfonso of Ferrara acquired a mastery of the subject compared to which the knowledge even of Maximilian I appears superficial. In Italy, earlier than elsewhere, there existed a comprehensive science and art of military affairs; here, for the first time, that impartial delight is taken in able generalship for its own sake which might, indeed, be expected from the frequent change of party and from the wholly unsentimental mode of action of the condottieri. During the Milano-Venetian war of 1451 and 1452, between Francesco Sforza and Jacopo Piccinino, the headquarters of the latter were attended by the scholar Gian Antonio Porcello dei Pandoni, commissioned by Alfonso of Naples to write a report of the campaign. It is written, not in the purest, but in a fluent Latin, a little too much in the style of the humanistic bombast of the day, is modelled on Caesar's Commentaries, and interspersed with speeches, prodigies and the like. Since for the past hundred years it had been seriously disputed whether Scipio Africanus or Hannibal was the greater, Piccinino through the whole book must needs be called Scipio and Sforza Hannibal. But something positive had to be reported, too, respecting the Milanese army; the sophist presented himself to Sforza, was led along the ranks, praised highly all that he saw, and promised to hand it down to posterity. Apart from him the Italian literature of the day is rich in descriptions of wars and strategic devices, written for the use of educated men in general as well as of specialists, while the contemporary narratives of northerns, such as the Burgundian War by Diebold Schilling, still retain the shapelessness and matter-of-fact dryness of a mere chronicle. The greatest dilettante who has ever treated in that character of military affairs, Machiavelli, was then busy writing his Arte della Guerra. But the development of the individual soldier found its most complete expression in those public and solemn conflicts between one or more pairs of combatants which were practised long before the famous 'Challenge of Barletta' (1503). The victor was assured of the praises of poets and scholars, which were denied to the northern warrior. The result of these combats was no longer regarded as a divine judgement, but as a triumph of personal merit, and to the minds of the spectators seemed to be both the decision of an exciting competition and a satisfaction for the honour of the army or the nation.

It is obvious that this purely rational treatment of warlike affairs allowed, under certain circumstances, of the worst atrocities, even in the absence of a strong political hatred, as, for instance, when the plunder of a city had been promised to the troops. After the forty days' devastation of Piacenza, which Sforza was compelled to permit to his soldiers (1447), the town long stood empty, and at last had to be peopled by force. Yet outrages like these were nothing compared with the misery which was afterwards brought upon Italy by foreign troops, and most of all by the Spaniards, in whom perhaps a touch of oriental blood, perhaps familiarity with the spectacles of the Inquisition, had unloosed the devilish element of human nature. After seeing them at work at Prato, Rome and elsewhere, it is not easy to take any interest of the higher sort in Ferdinand the Catholic and Charles V, who knew what these hordes were, and yet unchained them. The mass of documents which are gradually brought to light from the Cabinets of these rulers will always remain an important source of historical information; but from such men no fruitful political conception can be looked for.

The Papacy

The papacy and the dominions of the Church are creations of so peculiar a kind that we have hitherto, in determining the general characteristics of Italian states, referred to them only occasionally. The deliberate choice and adaptation of political expedients, which gives so great an interest to the other states, is what we find least of all at Rome, since here the spiritual power could constantly conceal or supply the defects of the temporal. And what fiery trials did this state undergo in the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth century, when the papacy was led captive to Avignon! All, at first, was thrown into confusion; but the pope had money, troops and a great statesman and general, the Spaniard Albornoz, who again brought the ecclesiastical state into complete subjection. The danger of a final dissolution was still greater at the time of the schism, when neither the Roman nor the French pope was rich enough to reconquer the newly lost state; but this was done under Martin V, after the unity of the Church was restored, and done again under Eugenius IV, when the same danger was renewed. But the ecclesiastical state was and remained a thorough anomaly among the powers of Italy; in and near Rome itself, the papacy was defied by the great families of the Colonna, Orsini, Savelli and Anguilara; in Umbria, in the Marches and in Romagna, those civic republics had almost ceased to exist, for whose devotion the papacy had showed so little gratitude; their place had been taken by a crowd of princely dynasties, great or small, whose loyalty and obedience signified little. As self-dependent powers, standing on their own merits, they have an interest of their own; and from this point of view the most important of them have already been discussed.

Nevertheless, a few general remarks on the papacy can hardly be dispensed with. New and strange perils and trials came upon it in the course of the fifteenth century, as the political spirit of the nation began to lay hold upon it on various sides, and to draw it within the sphere of its action. The least of these dangers came from the populace or from abroad; the most serious had their ground in the characters of the popes themselves.

Let us, for this moment, leave out of consideration the countries beyond the Alps. At the time when the papacy was exposed to mortal danger in Italy, it neither received nor could receive the slightest assistance either from France, then under Louis XI, or from England, distracted by the Wars of the Roses, or from the then disorganized Spanish monarchy, or from Germany, but lately betrayed at the Council of Basel. In Italy itself there was a certain number of instructed and even uninstructed people whose national vanity was flattered by the Italian character of the papacy; the personal interests of very many depended on its having and retaining this character; and vast masses of the people still believed in the virtue of the papal blessing and consecration; among them notorious transgressors like Vitelozzo Vitelli, who still prayed to be absolved by Alexander VI, when the pope's son had him strangled. But all these grounds of sympathy put together would not have sufficed to save the papacy from its enemies, had the latter been really in earnest, and had they known how to take advantage of the envy and hatred with which the institution was regarded.

And at the very time when the prospect of help from without was so small, the most dangerous symptoms appeared within the papacy itself. Living, as it now did, and acting in the spirit of the secular Italian principalities, it was compelled to go through the same dark experiences as they; but its own exceptional nature gave a peculiar colour to the shadows.

As far as the city of Rome itself is concerned, small account was taken of its internal agitations, so many were the popes who had returned after being expelled by popular tumult, and so greatly did the presence of the Curia minister to the interests of the Roman people. But Rome not only displayed at times a specific anti-papal radicalism, but in the most serious plots which were then contrived, gave proof of the working of unseen hands from without. It was so in the case of the conspiracy of Stefano Porcari against Nicholas V (1453), the very pope who had done most for the prosperity of the city. Porcari aimed at the complete overthrow of the papal authority, and had distinguished accomplices, who, though their names are not handed down to us, are certainly to be looked for among the Italian governments of the time. Under the pontificate of the same man, Lorenzo Valla concluded his famous declamation against the gift of Constantine with the wish for the speedy secularization of the states of the Church.

The Catilinarian gang, with which Pius II had to contend (1460), avowed with equal frankness their resolution to overthrow the government of the priests, and its leader, Tburzio, threw the blame on the soothsayers, who had fixed the accomplishment of his wishes for this very year. Several of the chief men of Rome, the Prince of Taranto and the condottiere Jacopo Piccinino were accomplices and supporters of Tiburzio. Indeed, when we think of the booty which was accumulated in the palaces of wealthy prelates — the conspirators had the Cardinal of Aquileia especially in view — we are surprised that, in an almost unguarded city, such attempts were not more frequent and more successful. It was not without reason that Pius II preferred to reside anywhere rather than in Rome, and even Paul II was exposed to no small anxiety through a plot formed by some discharged abbreviators, who, under the command of Platina, besieged the Vatican for twenty days. The papacy must sooner or later have fallen a victim to such enterprises, if it had not stamped out the aristocratic factions under whose protection these bands of robbers grew to a head.

This task was undertaken by the terrible Sixtus IV. He was the first pope who had Rome and the neighbourhood thoroughly under his control, especially after his successful attack on the House of Colonna, and consequently, both in his Italian policy and in the internal affairs of the Church, he could venture to act with a defiant audacity, and to set at nought the complaints and threats to summon a Council which arose from all parts of Europe. He supplied himself with the necessary funds by simony, which suddenly grew to unheard-of proportions, and which extended from the appointment of cardinals down to the granting of the smallest favours. Sixtus himself had not obtained the papal dignity without recourse to the same means.

A corruption so universal might sooner or later bring disastrous consequences on the Holy See, but they lay in the uncertain future. It was otherwise with nepotism, which threatened at one time to destroy the papacy altogether. Of all the nipoti, Cardinal Pietro Riario enjoyed at first the chief and almost exclusive favour of Sixtus. He soon drew upon him the eyes of all Italy, partly by the fabulous luxury of his life, partly through the reports which were current of his irreligion and his political plans. He bargained with Duke Galeazzo Maria of Milan (1473) that the latter should become King of Lombardy, and then aid him with money and troops to return to Rome and ascend the papal throne; Sixtus, it appears, would have voluntarily yielded to him. This plan, which, by making the papacy hereditary, would have ended in the secularization of the papal state, failed through the sudden death of Pietro. The second nipote, Girolamo Riario, remained a layman, and did not seek the pontificate. From this time the nipoti, by their endeavours to found principalities for themselves, became a new source of confusion to Italy. It had already happened that the popes tried to make good their feudal claims on Naples in favour of their relatives! But since the failure of Calixtus III, such a scheme was no longer practicable, and Girolamo Riario, after the attempt to conquer Florence (and who knows how many other places) had failed, was forced to content himself with founding a state within the limits of the papal dominions themselves. This was justifiable in so far as Romagna, with its princes and civic despots, threatened to shake off the papal supremacy altogether, and ran the risk of shortly falling a prey to Sforza or the Venetians, when Rome interfered to prevent it. But who, at times and in circumstances like these, could guarantee the continued obedience of nipoti and their descendants, now turned into sovereign rulers, to popes with whom they had no further concern? Even in his lifetime the pope was not always sure of his own son or nephew, and the temptation was strong to expel the nipote of a precedessor and replace him with one of his own. The reaction of the whole system on the papacy itself was of the most serious character; all means of compulsion, whether temporal or spiritual, were used without scruple for the most questionable ends, and to these all the other objects of the Apostolic See were made subordinate. And when they were attained, at whatever cost of revolutions and proscriptions, a dynasty was founded which had no stronger interest than the destruction of the papacy.

At the death of Sixtus, Girolamo was only able to maintain himself in his usurped principality of Forlì and Imola by the utmost exertions of his own, and by the aid of the House of Sforza, to which his wife belonged. In the conclave (1484) which followed the death of Sixtus — that in which Innocent VIII was elected — an incident occurred which seemed to furnish the papacy with a new external guarantee. Two cardinals, who, at the same time, were princes of ruling houses, Giovanni d'Aragona, son of King Ferrante, and Ascanio Sforza, brother of the Moor, sold their votes with the most shameless effrontery; so that, at any rate, the ruling houses of Naples and Milan became interested, by their participation in the booty, in the continuance of the papal system. Once again, in the following conclave, when all the cardinals but five sold themselves, Ascanio received enormous sums in bribes, but without cherishing the hope that at the next election he would himself be the favoured candidate.

Lorenzo the Magnificent, for his part, was anxious that the House of Medici should not be sent away with empty hands. He married his daughter Maddalena to the son of the new pope — the first who publicly acknowledged his children — Franceschetto Cibò, and expected not only favours of all kinds for his own son, Cardinal Giovanni, afterwards Leo X, but also the rapid promotion of his son-in-law. But with respect to the latter, he demanded impossibilities. Under Innocent VIII there was no opportunity for the audacious nepotism by which states had been founded, since Franceschetto himselfwas a poor creature who, like his father the pope, sought power only for the lowest purpose of all — the acquisition and accumulation of money. The manner, however, in which father and son practised this occupation must have led sooner or later to a final catastrophe — the dissolution of the state. If Sixtus had filled his treasury by the sale of spiritual dignities and favours, Innocent and his son, for their part, established an office for the sale of secular favours, in which pardons for murder and manslaughter were sold for large sums of money. Out of every fine 150 ducats were paid into the papal exchequer, and what was over to Franceschetto. Rome, during the latter part of this pontificate, swarmed with licensed and unlicensed assassins; the factions, which Sixtus had begun to put down, were again as active as ever; the pope, well guarded in the Vatican, was satisfied with now and then laying a trap, in which a wealthy misdoer was occasionally caught. For Franceschetto the chief point was to know by what means, when the pope died, he could escape with well-filled coffers. He betrayed himself at last, on the occasion of a false report (1490) of his father's death; he endeavoured to carry off all the money in the papal treasury, and when this proved impossible, insisted that, at all events, the Turkish prince, Djem, should go with him, and serve as a living capital, to be advantageously disposed of, perhaps to Ferrante of Naples. It is hard to estimate the political possibilities of remote periods, but we cannot help asking ourselves the question, if Rome could have survived two or three pontificates of this kind. Even with reference to the believing countries of Europe, it was imprudent to let matters go so far that not only travellers and pilgrims, but a whole embassy of Maximilian, King of the Romans, were stripped to their shirts in the neighbourhood of Rome, and that envoys had constantly to turn back without setting foot within the city.

Such a condition of things was incompatible with the conception of power and its pleasures which inspired the gifted Alexander VI (1492—1503), and the first event that happened was the restoration, at least provisionally, of public order, and the punctual payment of every salary.

Strictly speaking, as we are now discussing phases of Italian civilization, this pontificate might be passed over, since the Borgias are no more Italian than the House of Naples. Alexander spoke Spanish in public with Cesare; Lucrezia, at her entrance to Ferrara, where she wore a Spanish costume, was sung to by Spanish buffoons; their confidential servants consisted of Spaniards, as did also the most ill-famed company of the troops of Cesare in the war of 1500; and even his hangman, Don Micheletto, and his poisoner, Sebastian Pinzon Cremonese, seem to have been of the same nation. Among his other achievements, Cesare, in true Spanish fashion, killed, according to the rules of the craft, six wild bulls in an enclosed court. But the Roman corruption, which seemed to culminate in this family, was already far advanced when they came to the city.

What they were and what they did has been often and fully described. Their immediate purpose, which, in fact, they attained, was the complete subjugation of the pontifical state. All the petty despots, who were mostly more or less refractory vassals of the Church, were expelled or destroyed; and in Rome itself the two great factions were annihilated, the so-called Guelph Orsini as well as the so-called Ghibel-line Colonna. But the means employed were of so frightful a character that they must certainly have ended in the ruin of the papacy, had not the contemporaneous death of both father and son by poison suddenly intervened to alter the whole aspect of the situation. The moral indignation of Christendom was certainly no great source of danger to Alexander; at home he was strong enough to extort terror and obedience; foreign rulers were won over to his side, and Louis XII even aided him to the utmost of his power. The mass of the people throughout Europe had hardly a conception of what was passing in Central Italy. The only moment which was really fraught with danger — when Charles VIII was in Italy — went by with unexpected fortune, and even then it was not the papacy as such that was in peril, but Alexander, who risked being supplanted by a more respectable pope. The great, permanent and increasing danger for the papacy lay in Alexander himself, and, above all, in his son Cesare Borgia.

In the nature of the father, ambition, avarice and sensuality were combined with strong and brilliant qualities. All the pleasures of power and luxury he granted himself from the first day of his pontificate in the fullest measure. In the choice of means to this end he was wholly without scruple; it was known at once that he would more than compensate himself for the sacrifices which his election had involved, and that the simony of the seller would far exceed the simony of the buyer. It must be remembered that the vice-chancellorship and other offices which Alexander had formerly held had taught him to know better and turn to more practical account the various sources of revenue than any other member of the Curia. As early as 1494, a Carmelite, Adam of Genoa, who had preached at Rome against simony, was found murdered in his bed with twenty wounds. Hardly a single cardinal was appointed without the payment of enormous sums of money.

But when the pope in course of time fell under the influence of his son Cesare Borgia, his violent measures assumed that character of devilish wickedness which necessarily reacts upon the ends pursued. What was done in the struggle with the Roman nobles and with the tyrants of Romagna exceeded in faithlessness and barbarity even that measure to which the Aragonese rulers of Naples had already accustomed the world; and the genius for deception was also greater. The manner in which Cesare isolated his father, murdering brother, brother-in-law and other relations or courtiers, whenever their favour with the pope or their position in any other respect became inconvenient to him, is literally appalling. Alexander was forced to acquiesce in the murder of his best-loved son, the Duke of Gandia, since he himself lived in hourly dread of Cesare.

What were the final aims of the latter? Even in the last months of his tyranny, when he had murdered the condottieri at Sinigaglia, and was to all intents and purposes master of the ecclesiastical state (1503), those who stood near him gave the modest reply that the duke merely wished to put down the factions and the despots, and all for the good of the Church only; that for himself he desired nothing more than the lordship of the Romagna, and that he had earned the gratitude of all the following popes by riding them of the Orsini and Colonna. But no one will accept this as his ultimate design. The Pope Alexander himself, in his discussions with the Venetian ambassador, went further than this, when committing his son to the protection of Venice: 'I will see to it,' he said, 'that one day the papacy shall belong either to him or to you.' Cesare certainly added that no one could become pope without the consent of Venice, and for this end the Venetian cardinals had only to keep well together. Whether he referred to himself or not we are unable to say; at all events, the declaration of his father is sufficient to prove his designs on the pontifical throne. We further obtain from Lucrezia Borgia a certain amount of indirect evidence, in so far as certain passages in the poems of Ercole Strozza may be the echo of expressions which she as Duchess of Ferrara may easily have permitted herself to use. Here, too, Cesare's hopes of the papacy are chiefly spoken of; but now and then a supremacy over all Italy is hinted at, and finally we are given to understand that as temporal ruler Cesare's projects were of the greatest, and that for their sake he had formerly surrendered his cardinalate. In fact, there can be no doubt whatever that Cesare, whether chosen pope or not after the death of Alexander, meant to keep possession of the pontifical state at any cost, and that this, after all the enormities he had committed, he could not as pope have succeeded in doing permanently. He, if anybody, could have secularized the States of the Church, and he would have been forced to do so in order to keep them. Unless we are much deceived, this is the real reason of the secret sympathy with which Machiavelli treats the great criminal; from Cesare, or from nobody, could it be hoped that he 'would draw the steel from the wound', in other words, annihilate the papacy — the source of all foreign intervention and of all the divisions of Italy. The intriguers who thought to divine Cesare's aims, when holding out to him hopes of the kingdom of Tuscany, seem to have been dismissed with contempt.

But all logical conclusions from his premises are idle, not because of the unaccountable genius which in fact characterized him as little as it did Wallenstein, but because the means which he employed were not compatible with any large and consistent course of action. Perhaps, indeed, in the very excess of his wickedness some prospect of salvation for the papacy may have existed even without the accident which put an end to his rule.

Even if we assume that the destruction of the petty despots in the pontifical state had gained for him nothing but sympathy, even if we take as proof of his great projects the army, composed of the best soldiers and officers in Italy, with Leonardo da Vinci as chief engineer, which followed his fortunes in 1502, other facts nevertheless wear such a character of unreason that our judgement, like that of contemporary observers, is wholly at a loss to explain them. One fact of this kind is the devastation and maltreatment of the newly won state, which Cesare still intended to keep and to rule over. Another is the condition of Rome and of the Curia in the last decades of the pontificate. Whether it were that father and son had drawn up a formal list of proscribed persons, or that the murders were resolved upon one by one, in either case the Borgias were bent on the secret destruction of all who stood in their way or whose inheritance they coveted. Of this money and movable goods formed the smallest part; it was a much greater source of profit for the pope that the incomes of the clerical dignitaries in question were suspended by their death, and that he received the revenues of their offices while vacant, and the price of these offices when they were filled by the successors of the murdered men. The Venetian ambassador Paolo Capello announces in the year 1500: 'Every night four or five murdered men are discovered — bishops, prelates and others — so that all Rome is trembling for fear of being destroyed by the duke [Cesare].' He himself used to wander about Rome in the night-time with his guards, and there is every reason to believe that he did so not only because, like Tiberius, he shrank from showing his now repulsive features by daylight, but also to gratify his insane thirst for blood, perhaps even on the persons of those unknown to him.

As early as the year 1499 the despair was so great and so general that many of the papal guards were waylaid and put to death. But those whom the Borgias could not assail with open violence fell victims to their poison. For the cases in which a certain amount of discretion seemed requisite, a white powder of an agreeable taste was made use of, which did not work on the spot, but slowly and gradually, and which could be mixed without notice in any dish or goblet. Prince Djem had taken some of it in a sweet draught, before Alexander surrendered him to Charles VIII (1495), and at the end of their career father and son poisoned themselves with the same powder by accidentally tasting a sweetmeat intended for a wealthy cardinal. The official epitomizer of the history of the popes, Onofrio Panvinio, mentions three cardinals, Orsini, Ferrerio and Michiel, whom Alexander caused to be poisoned, and hints at a fourth, Giovanni Borgia, whom Cesare took into his own charge — though probably wealthy prelates seldom died in Rome at that time without giving rise to suspicions of this sort. Even tranquil scholars who had withdrawn to some provincial town were not out of reach of the merciless poison. A secret horror seemed to hang about the pope; storms and thunderbolts, crushing in walls and chambers, had in earlier times often visited and alarmed him; in the year 1500, when these phenomena were repeated, they were held to be cosa diabolica. The report of these events seems at last, through the well-attended jubilee of 1500, to have been carried far and wide throughout the countries of Europe, and the infamous traffic in indulgences did what else was needed to draw all eyes upon Rome. Besides the returning pilgrims, strange white-robed penitents came from Italy to the North, among them disguised fugitives from the papal state, who are not likely to have been silent. Yet none can calculate how far the scandal and indignation of Christendom might have gone before they became a source of pressing danger to Alexander. 'He would,' says Panvinio elsewhere, 'have put all the other rich cardinals and prelates out of the way, to get their property, had he not, in the midst of his great plans for his son, been struck down by death.' And what might not Cesare have achieved if, at the moment when his father died, he had not himself been laid upon a sickbed! What a conclave would that have been, in which, armed with all his weapons, he had extorted his election from a college whose numbers he had judiciously reduced by poison — and this at a time when there was no French army at hand! In pursuing such a hypothesis the imagination loses itself in an abyss.

Instead of this followed the conclave in which Pius III was elected, and, after his speedy death, that which chose Julius II — both elections the fruits of a general reaction.

Whatever may have been the private morals of Julius II, in all essential respects he was the saviour of the papacy. His familiarity with the course of events since the pontificate of his uncle Sixtus had given him a profound insight into the grounds and conditions of the papal authority. On these he founded his own policy, and devoted to it the whole force and passion of his unshaken soul. He ascended the steps of St Peter's chair without simony and amid general applause, and with him ceased, at all events, the undisguised traffic in the highest offices of the Church. Julius had favourites, and among them were some the reverse of worthy, but a special fortune put him above the temptation to nepotism. His brother, Giovanni della Rovere, was the husband of the heiress of Urbino, sister of the last Montefeltro Guidobaldo, and from this marriage was born, in 1491, a son, Francesco Maria della Rovere, who was at the same time papal nipote and lawful heir to the duchy of Urbino. What Julius elsewhere acquired, either on the field of battle or by diplomatic means, he proudly bestowed on the Church, not on his family; the ecclesiastical territory, which he found in a state of dissolution, he bequeathed to his successor completely subdued, and increased by Parma and Piacenza. It was not his fault that Ferrara too was not added to the dominions of the Church. The 700,000 ducats which were stored up in the Castel Sant' Angelo were to be delivered by the governor to none but the future pope. He made himself heir of the cardinals, and, indeed, of all the clergy who died in Rome, and this by the most despotic means; but he murdered or poisoned none of them. That he should himself lead his forces to battle was for him an unavoidable necessity, and certainly did him nothing but good at a time when a man in Italy was forced to be either hammer or anvil, and when personality was a greater power than the most indisputable right. If, despite all his high-sounding 'Away with the barbarians!' he nevertheless contributed more than any man to the firm settlement of the Spaniards in Italy, he may have thought it a matter of indifference to the papacy, or even, as things stood, a relative advantage. And to whom, sooner than to Spain, could the Church look for a sincere and lasting respect, in an age when the princes of Italy cherished none but the sacrilegious projects against her? Be this as it may, the powerful, original nature, which could swallow no anger and conceal no genuine good-will, made on the whole the impression most desirable in his situation — that of the pontefice terribile. He could even, with a comparatively clear conscience, venture to summon a Council to Rome, and so bid defiance to that outcry for a Council which was raised by the opposition all over Europe. A ruler of this stamp needed some great outward symbol of his conceptions; Julius found it in the reconstruction of St Peter's. The plan of it, as Bramante wished to have it, is perhaps the grandest expression of power in unity which can be imagined. In other arts besides architecture the face and the memory of the pope live on in their most ideal form, and it is not without significance that even the Latin poetry of those days gives proof of a wholly different enthusiasm for Julius than that shown for his predecessors. The entry into Bologna, at the end of the Iter Julii Secundi, by the Cardinal Adriano da Corneto, has a splendour of its own, and Giovan Antonio Flaminio, in one of the finest elegies, appealed to the patriot in the pope to grant his protection to Italy.

In a constitution of his Lateran Council, Julius had solemnly denounced the simony of the papal elections. After his death in 1513, the money-loving cardinals tried to evade the prohibition by proposing that the endowments and offices hitherto held by the chosen candidate should be equally divided among themselves, in which case they would have elected the best-endowed cardinal, the incompetent Raphael Riario. But a reaction, chiefly arising from the younger members of the Sacred College, who, above all things, desired a liberal pope, rendered the miserable combination futile; Giovanni Medici was elected — the famous Leo X.

We shall often meet with him in treating of the noonday of the Renaissance; here we wish only to point out that under him the papacy was again exposed to great inward and outward dangers. Among these we do not reckon the conspiracy of the Cardinals Petrucci, De Saulis, Riario and Corneto (1517), which at most could have occasioned a change of persons, and to which Leo found the true antidote in the unheard-of creation of thirty-one new cardinals, a measure which had the additional advantage of rewarding, in some cases at least, real merit.

But some of the paths which Leo allowed himself to tread during the first two years of his office were perilous to the last degree. He seriously endeavoured to secure, by negotiation, the kingdom of Naples for his brother Giuliano, and for his nephew Lorenzo a powerful North Italian state, to comprise Milan, Tuscany, Urbino and Ferrara. It is clear that the pontifical state, thus hemmed in on all sides, would have become a mere Medicean appanage, and that, in fact, there would have been no further need to secularize it.

The plan found an insuperable obstacle in the political conditions of the time. Giuliano died early. To provide for Lorenzo, Leo undertook to expel the Duke Francesco Maria della Rovere from Urbino, but reaped from the war nothing but hatred and poverty, and was forced, when in 1519 Lorenzo followed his uncle to the grave, to hand over the hard-won conquests to the Church. He did on compulsion and without credit what, if it had been done voluntarily, would have been to his lasting honour. What he attempted against Alfonso of Ferrara, and actually achieved against a few petty despots and condottieri, was assuredly not of a kind to raise his reputation. And this was at a time when the monarchs of the West were yearly growing more and more accustomed to political gambling on a colossal scale, of which the stakes were this or that province of Italy. Who could guarantee that, since the last decades had seen so great an increase of their power at home, their ambition would stop short of the States of the Church? Leo himself witnessed the prelude of what was fulfilled in the year 1527; a few bands of Spanish infantry appeared — of their own accord, it seems — at the end of 1520, on the borders of the pontifical territory, with a view of laying the pope under contribution, but were driven back by the papal forces. The public feeling, too, against the corruptions of the hierarchy had of late years been drawing rapidly to a head, and men with an eye for the future, like the younger Pico della Mirandola, called urgently for reform. Meantime Luther had already appeared upon the scene.

Under Adrian VI (1522—3), the few and timid improvements, carried out in the face of the great German Reformation, came too late. He could do little more than proclaim his horror of the course which things had taken hitherto, of simony, nepotism, prodigality, brigandage and profligacy. The danger from the side of the Lutherans was by no means the greatest; an acute observer from Venice, Girolamo Negro, uttered his fears that a speedy and terrible disaster would befall the city of Rome itself.

Under Clement VII the whole horizon of Rome was filled with vapours, like that leaden veil which the scirocco drew over the Campagna, and which made the last months of summer so deadly. The pope was no less detested at home than abroad. Thoughtful people were filled with anxiety, hermits appeared upon the streets and squares of Rome, foretelling the fate of Italy and of the world, and calling the pope by the name of Antichrist; the faction of the Colonna raised its head defiantly; the indomitable Cardinal Pompeo Colonna, whose mere existence was a permanent menace to the papacy, ventured to surprise the city in 1526, hoping, with the help of Charles V, to become pope then and there, as soon as Clement was killed or captured. It was no piece of good fortune for Rome that the latter was able to escape to the Castel Sant' Angelo, and the fate for which he himself was reserved may well be called worse than death.

By a series of those falsehoods, which only the powerful can venture on, but which bring ruin upon the weak, Clement brought about the advance of the Germano-Spanish army under Bourbon and Frundsberg (1527). It is certain that the Cabinet of Charles V intended to inflict on him a severe castigation, and that it could not calculate beforehand how far the zeal of its unpaid hordes would carry them. It would have been vain to attempt to enlist men in Germany without paying any bounty, if it had not been well known that Rome was the object of the expedition. It may be that the written orders to Bourbon will be found some day or other, and it is not improbable that they will prove to be worded mildly. But historical criticism will not allow itself to be led astray. The Catholic king and emperor owed it to his luck and nothing else that pope and cardinals were not murdered by his troops. Had this happened, no sophistry in the world could clear him of his share in the guilt. The massacre of countless people of less consequence, the plunder of the rest, and all the horrors of torture and traffic in human life show clearly enough what was possible in the Sacco di Roma.

Charles seems to have wished to bring the pope, who had fled a second time to the Castel Sant' Angelo, to Naples, after extorting from him vast sums of money, and Clement's flight to Orvieto must have happened without any connivance on the part of Spain. Whether the emperor ever thought seriously of the secularization of the States of the Church, for which everybody was quite prepared, and whether he was really dissuaded from it by the representations of Henry VIII of England, will probably never be made clear.

But if such projects really existed, they cannot have lasted long: from the devastated city arose a new spirit of reform both in Church and state. It made itself felt in a moment. Cardinal Sadoleto, one witness of many, thus writes:

If through our suffering a satisfaction is made to the wrath and justice of God, if these fearful punishments again open the way to better laws and morals, then is our misfortune perhaps not of the greatest ... What belongs to God He will take care of; before us lies a life of reformation, which no violence can take from us. Let us so rule our deeds and thoughts as to seek in God only the true glory of the priesthood and our own true greatness and power.

In point of fact, this critical year, 1527, so far bore fruit that the voices of serious men could again make themselves heard. Rome had suffered too much to return, even under a Paul III, to the gay corruption of Leo X.

The papacy, too, when its sufferings became so great, began to excite a sympathy half religious and half political. The kings could not tolerate that one of their number should arrogate to himself the rights of papal gaoler, and concluded (18 August 1527) the Treaty of Amiens, one of the objects of which was the deliverance of Clement. They thus, at all events, turned to their own account the unpopularity which the deeds of the imperial troops had excited. At the same time the emperor became seriously embarrassed, even in Spain, where the prelates and grandees never saw him without making the most urgent remonstrances. When a general deputation of the clergy and laity, all clothed in mourning, was projected, Charles, fearing that troubles might arise out of it, like those of the insurrection quelled a few years before, forbade the scheme. Not only did he not dare to prolong the maltreatment of the pope, but he was absolutely compelled, even apart from all considerations of foreign politics, to be reconciled with the papacy which he had so grievously wounded. For the temper of the German people, which certainly pointed to a different course, seemed to him, like German affairs generally, to afford no foundation for a policy. It is possible, too, as a Venetian maintains, that the memory of the sack of Rome lay heavy on his conscience, and tended to hasten that expiation which was sealed by the permanent subjection of the Florentines to the Medicean family of which the pope was a member. The nipote and new duke, Alessandro Medici, was married to the natural daughter of the emperor.

In the following years the plan of a Council enabled Charles to keep the papacy in all essential points under his control, and at one and the same time to protect and to oppress it. The greatest danger of all — secularization — the danger which came from within, from the popes themselves and their nipoti, was adjourned for centuries by the German Reformation. Just as this alone had made the expedition against Rome (1527) possible and successful, so did it compel the papacy to become once more the expression of a world-wide spiritual power, to raise itself from the soulless debasement in which it lay, and to place itself at the head of all the enemies of this Reformation. The institution thus developed during the latter years of Clement VII, and under Paul III, Paul IV, and their successors, in the face of the defection of half Europe, was a new, regenerated hierarchy, which avoided all the great and dangerous scandals of former times, particularly nepotism, with its attempts at territorial aggrandizement, and which, in alliance with the Catholic princes, and impelled by a new-born spiritual force, found its chief work in the recovery of what had been lost. It only existed and is only intelligible in opposition to the seceders. In this sense it can be said with perfect truth that the moral salvation of the papacy is due to its mortal enemies. And now its political position, too, though certainly under the permanent tutelage of Spain, became impregnable; almost without effort it inherited, on the extinction of its vassals, the legitimate line of Este and the house of della Rovere, the duchies of Ferrara and Urbino. But without the Reformation — if, indeed, it is possible to think it away — the whole ecclesiastical state would long ago have passed into secular hands.

Patriotism

In conclusion, let us briefly consider the effect of these political circumstances on the spirit of the nation at large.

It is evident that the general political uncertainty in Italy during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was of a kind to excite in the better spirits of the time a patriotic disgust and opposition. Dante and Petrarch, in their day, proclaimed loudly a common Italy, the object of the highest efforts of all her children. It may be objected that this was only the enthusiasm of a few highly instructed men, in which the mass of the people had no share; but it can hardly have been otherwise even in Germany, although in name at least that country was united, and recognized in the emperor one supreme head. The first patriotic utterances of German literature, if we except some verses of the Minnesänger, belong to the humanists of the time of Maximilian I and after, and read like an echo of Italian declamations. And yet, as a matter of fact, Germany had been long a nation in a truer sense than Italy ever was since the Roman days. France owes the consciousness of its national unity mainly to its conflicts with the English, and Spain has never permanently succeeded in absorbing Portugal, closely related as the two countries are. For Italy, the existence of the ecclesiastical state, and the conditions under which alone it could continue, were a permanent obstacle to national unity, an obstacle whose removal seemed hopeless. When, therefore, in the political intercourse of the fifteenth century, the common fatherland is sometimes emphatically named, it is done in most cases to annoy some other Italian state. But those deeply serious and sorrowful appeals to national sentiment were not heard again till later, when the time for unity had gone by, when the country was inundated with Frenchmen and Spaniards. The sense of local patriotism may be said in some measure to have taken the place of this feeling, though it was but a poor equivalent for it.

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
日本的民族主义
西方的民族主义
印度的民族主义
Nationalism in Japan
Nationalism in the West
Nationalism in India
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企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

民族主义

（英汉双语）

［印度］拉宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔　著

刘　涵　汉译

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民族主义：英汉双语／（印）泰戈尔（Tagore，R.）著；刘涵译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3881-5

Ⅰ．①民…　Ⅱ．①泰…　②刘…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②民族主义—研究　Ⅳ．①H319.4:D

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First published 1917

This selection published in Penguin Books 2010

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版　　次／2014年4月第一版

印　　次／2014年4月第一次

ISBN 978-7-5001-3881-5　定价：15.00元

“企鹅”及相关标识是企鹅图书有限公司已经注册或尚未注册的商标。

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中国对外翻译出版有限公司与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese
Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

拉宾德拉纳特·泰戈尔（Rabindranath Tagore，1861-1941），印度著名诗人、作家、哲学家、艺术家以及社会活动家。他于1913年获得诺贝尔文学奖，是第一位获此殊荣的非欧洲人。中国读者对于泰戈尔的了解更多的是来自于他的诗歌作品，如《园丁集》《飞鸟集》《吉檀迦利》等等。然而，泰戈尔的成就是多方面的。除了诗歌以外，他还创作并出版了大量的小说、戏剧、哲学以及政治学论著。

本次翻译出版的《民族主义》是泰戈尔于1916年在日本和美国所做的三篇演讲稿的合集，是他有关政治思想的重要论述。本书共分三个部分，它们分别是：日本的民族主义、西方的民族主义和印度的民族主义。而将这三个部分串联在一起的唯一主题则是泰戈尔对于源自西方的“民族主义”的深刻批判。

在“日本的民族主义”当中，泰戈尔对东西方文明进行了比较，对日本的崛起寄予了希望，同时还对她所面临的的危险倾向提出了警告。泰戈尔为古老的东方文明进行辩护，认为它并非玄学，而是某种确实存在的、为人类心灵提供了庇护和滋养的智慧；它并非政治的文明，而是一种社会的和精神的文明，并且终将会有发扬光大的一天。泰戈尔还认为日本为亚洲各国树立了崛起的榜样，因为她不但获得了所有现代社会的禀赋，而且还深深地扎根于脚下这片古老的东方沃土。但是同时，泰戈尔还告诫日本不要盲目地模仿西方，不要以为实现了西方式的现代化就万事大吉了，特别是不要学习西方的民族主义，而放弃自己固有的精神理想。

尽管三篇演讲稿的主题都是对于“民族主义”的批判，“西方的民族主义”仍然是对此讨论最为集中的一篇。泰戈尔认为民族是指，全体人民为了某个机械的目的，即获取政治的和经济的利益，而组织在一起所形成的团体。它是一个社会组织，是一台依靠贪婪的欲望来驱动的机器，它是人类道德理想的死敌。泰戈尔认为民族主义是理智的、科学的、机械的，而非人性的。尽管打着爱国主义的旗号，其实质则是民族的自私自利；对其他国家的人民，特别是对非民族主义的、贫弱国家的人民来说，则是残酷的剥削、束缚和压迫；而且，民族主义国家的人民往往会在浑然不知当中听由其政府的摆布，甚至于自豪而愉快地拜倒在本国的民族主义旗下。泰戈尔认为道德的律法才是人类永恒的真理，它不仅适用于个人，同样也适用于各个国家和组织。因此，与人类道德理想背道而驰的民族主义注定要喝下自己所酿成的毒酒，并且最终走上一条灭亡的不归之路。

在“印度的民族主义”中，泰戈尔认为印度同样不能盲目地学习西方，而要坚持走自己的道路。他认为印度所面临的最为严重的问题不是政治问题，而是社会问题，是种族问题，是过于森严的、种族隔离的壁垒。他抨击了印度的种姓制度，认为它尽管承认了社会差别的存在，但是却否认了生命易变性的法则。关于美国，泰戈尔认为她没有受到历史的和传统的束缚，她乐观向上且感知力丰富，所以理应扛起未来文明的大旗，并且承担起向东方证明西方文明正当性的历史重任。

在演讲中，泰戈尔呼吁世界的和平和全人类的团结。他认为这个世界只有一部历史，那就是人类的历史。他的观点在过去，在现在，在将来都如夜空中的北斗一样指引着正义的人们前进的方向。总之，这是一本跨越时代的著作，无愧于“伟大的思想”的名号。

翻译质量的高低从根本上取决于译者对于目标语的理解和对于母语的驾驭。以己昏昏，使人昭昭是万万行不通的。所以我们千万要警惕有人以某种不伦不类的、磕磕绊绊的、与原文貌合神离的译文来冒充所谓的“忠实于原文”。真正的“忠实于原文”是对于原文精神实质的深刻理解和以母语进行的流畅表达。它不能对原文进行阉割、遗漏、肢解和篡改，也不能打着“忠实”的幌子使得原本优美的原文变得味同嚼蜡，甚至于一团乱麻。这是本次翻译《民族主义》的一点个人体会，谨供读者参考。

日本的民族主义

Ⅰ

对人们最残酷的奴役形式莫过于使其垂头丧气，因为这样就可以让他们在失去自信之中戴上绝望的枷锁。有人一遍又一遍地，有理有据地告诉我们，亚洲仍然活在它的过去当中——它就如同一座奢华的陵墓，以其庄严而华美的外表诉说着逝者的永垂不朽。他们说亚洲永远都不会走上进步的道路，因为它总是将视线投向过去。我们接受了这一指责，并且信以为真。据我所知，在印度有相当一部分受过教育的人们对这种指责所带来的羞辱感到厌倦，他们正试图调动一切可能调动的、自欺欺人的资源，努力将这一指责转变成某种可以自我吹嘘的事情。然而吹嘘只会掩盖羞耻，却并不能真正地说服自己。

就当这一切如此静止不动的时候，就当我们亚洲各国进入到一种恍恍惚惚的状态，认为任何的改变都不可能再发生的时候，日本从她的梦境中苏醒过来。她昂首阔步，将几百年来的无所作为甩在身后，并且以其卓越的成就站在了时代的潮头。这就打破了长久以来将我们陷于困境的魔咒——正是这一魔咒让我们相信，生活在某些地域内的某些种族的麻木不仁是理所当然的。然而我们却忘记了，伟大的王朝曾经在亚洲肇始，哲学、科学、艺术以及文学曾经在这里盛极一时，而世界上所有伟大的宗教都曾经在这里孕育。所以，我们不能说在亚洲的土壤和空气中有什么固有的东西会使我们的头脑变得迟钝，会使我们奋进的能力变得萎靡。几百年来，当西方在黑暗中昏昏欲睡的时候，我们东方人的确擎起了文明的火炬，而这一切都是我们并非思想懒惰或视野狭窄的明证。

然而漆黑的夜幕却降临在了东方的土地。时间的洪流突然间戛然而止。亚洲似乎停止了进食新鲜的食物，转而靠咀嚼自己的过去维持生计——这是名副其实的自给自足。沉寂如死亡一般，那曾经传递过永恒真理的伟大声音也寂静了下来。正是这永恒的真理将人类从累世的污秽中拯救出来，就如同新鲜的、流动的空气不断涤荡着人世的罪恶，给人类送来甜美的祝福。

然而此时，生命似乎开始了休眠，进入到一种无所作为的状态——它静止不动，不思茶饭，完全靠过去的储备苟延残喘。它变得无能为力，肌肉松弛，并且因为不省人事而饱受讥讽。但是，在生命的律动中，此时的暂停一定预示着将来的重生。活动中的生命在不断地消耗着自身的能量。而这种挥霍无度并非长久之计，总有一天，生命将会奄奄一息，所有的付出都会停止，所有的冒险都将放弃，而取而代之的是休息和缓慢的恢复。

头脑的脾性总是倾向于走捷径：它热衷于形成习惯并且沿着已有的车辙前行，从而避免了每走一步都要重新思考的麻烦。思维定式一旦形成就会使头脑变得懒惰。它会惧怕在新的努力和尝试中失去已经占有的东西。它会在习惯的堡垒后面储藏自己的财产，以确保万无一失。然而，这其实是将它自身禁锢起来，从而不可能享有自己的全部财产。这是吝啬。有生命力的头脑一定不能将其自身与发展变化中的生活相隔绝。它们真正的自由并不会被圈在安全的藩篱后面，而是走在探索的大路上，尝试着各种新鲜的刺激和冒险。

早上醒来，整个世界都惊异地发现，日本已经在一夜之间冲破了重重旧习的包围，带着胜利的喜悦站立了起来。这一切都在令人难以置信的瞬间完成，就好像换了件衣服那样轻而易举，而不像是建造了一幢新的建筑。日本展现出了成熟的自信和一个新生命所特有的鲜活以及无限的潜能。人们担心，日本的崛起只不过是历史的偶然错误，是孩子式的游戏——就如同吹起的肥皂泡，带着完美的弧形曲线和绚丽的色彩，内心却是空空如也。但是日本已经毫无疑问地证明了，她力量的突然迸发并不是昙花一现，并不是岁月潮汐的偶然产物——从某个昏暗幽冥的深处翻卷而起，瞬间又被冲进了遗忘之海。

事实是，日本既古老又年轻。她拥有东方的、古老的文化传承——这一文化要求人们在自己的灵魂深处寻求真正的财富和力量；要求人们在面对挫折和危险时泰然自若，勇于牺牲自我而不计成本和回报；要求人们蔑视死亡，接受不可胜数的、我们作为人所应当履行的社会责任。一句话，现代的日本从历史悠久的东方脱颖而出，就如同一束莲花般优雅地绽放，而同时又牢牢地植根于脚下这片沃土。

日本，这个古老东方的孩子，已经无所畏惧地获取了所有现代社会所具有的禀赋。她毅然决然地冲破了积习的束缚，抛弃了懒惰头脑中的废物——这懒惰的头脑在其自身所设定的捷径和作茧自缚中才能找到安全感。由此，她已经顺应了时代的潮流，并且热切地、聪慧地承担起了现代文明的责任。

这就是日本给亚洲各国树立起的精神样板。我们已经看到了自身所具有的生命和力量；我们要做的就是要去除掉身上的死痂。我们已经看到了在逝者的庇护之下只会是死路一条，只有毫无保留地冒生命之险才会获得新生。

就我个人而言，我不相信通过模仿西方日本就可以变成今天的样子。我们不可能模仿生命，也不可能长时间地冒充强大。不仅如此，单纯的模仿只会产生虚弱，因为它束缚了我们的天性，阻断了我们的进步。它就像是在我们的骨架上套上了别人的皮肤，自此以后，只要我们稍有动作，皮肤和骨骼之间便会产生无休止的争斗。

事实上，科学并非人的本性，科学是通过学习知识和接受训练获得的。仅仅知道物质世界的法则并不能改变你的更深层次的人性。你可以从旁人那里学会知识，却不可能从他们那里学会性情。

但是，当我们还处在接受教育的模仿阶段的时候，我们并不能区分哪些是基本的要素，哪些是非基本的；哪些是能学会的，哪些是学不会的。这就有点像原始人所相信的，某些外部表象的偶发事件所具有的魔力——尽管这些偶发事件往往与某些真理相伴而生。于是我们便担心如果不将果壳连同果仁一同吞掉的话，那么就有可能遗漏掉一些有价值和可受用的东西。然而，即便是我们的贪欲对于大量的占有感到洋洋自得，我们的生命本性也会去消化吸收——对于一个生命体来说，只有这种占有才是真正的占有。只要有生命，它就会根据其自身所固有的需要来决定取舍。生命体不会随着其食物的样子而改变模样；相反，它会将食物消化吸收为其身体的一部分。唯有如此，它才能茁壮成长，而不是简单的占有，抑或是放弃自己的个性。

日本已经从西方引进了食物，而非生死攸关的本性。她一定不能在从西方那里获得的科学装备中迷失自我，从而变成一部单纯的、借来的机器。日本有自己的灵魂，而这一灵魂一定要支配她的所有诉求。日本所表现出来的健康活力充分地证明了，她有能力这样做，她的消化吸收过程正在进行中。我真诚地希望日本永远都不要在炫耀学习西方的成果时失去对自己灵魂的信仰。因为这种炫耀本身就如同羞辱，最终会导致贫穷和虚弱。只有招摇过市的纨绔子弟才会把钱都花在自己的新头饰上面，而不是去丰富自己的头脑。

整个世界都在等着瞧，这个伟大的东方民族会怎样地利用她从现代社会的手中所接受的机遇和责任。如果只是单纯地效仿西方，那么她将会令大家的殷切期望化为泡影。因为迄今为止，西方文明在世人面前所暴露出的严重问题仍未得到圆满的解答。比如，个人和国家间的矛盾，劳资矛盾，男人和女人间的矛盾；人们对于物质的贪欲和对于精神生活的追求之间的矛盾，各个民族不约而同的自私自利与对于人性崇高理想的追求之间的矛盾；庞大的商业和国家组织所带来的、林林总总的丑恶现象与人类所具有的朴素、美和休闲的天然本性之间的矛盾，等等——所有这一切的矛盾都有待于以某种迄今仍未想见的方式加以调和。

我们看到，人类文明的洪流正因为它不可胜数的支流所携带冲刷下来的垃圾废物而变得病入膏肓。我们看到，尽管它吹嘘自己是如何地热爱人类，然而事实上它已然变成了人类的最大威胁，相比人类早期历史上所遭受的、游牧野蛮民族的突然入侵所带来的伤害还要大得多。我们看到，尽管它吹嘘自己热爱自由，然而事实上它比过去任何社会的、任何奴隶制的形式都要糟糕——它的奴役的锁链牢不可破，因为它要么无影无形，要么假借自由的名义显身。我们看到，在它恶毒的、肮脏污秽的魔咒之下，人类失去了对于所有那些曾经使他们变得伟大的、英雄史诗般的人生理想的信仰。

因此，你们不能草率地接受现代文明的所有脾性、方法和结构，并且认为它们都理所当然。你们一定要将自己的思想、自己的精神力量、自己对于朴素的热爱、自己所认可的社会责任等等，融入其中，从而为这台巨大的、笨拙的进步之车开辟出一条崭新的道路，去除掉它在前进的过程中发出的刺耳尖叫。这台车每前进一步都会对人类的生命和自由造成巨大的牺牲，而你们一定要把这牺牲降到最低。多少世代以来，你们都以自己独特的方式进行着感知、思考和工作；你们享受着生活、崇拜着神明；而这些都不要弃之如敝屣。它存在于你们的血液中、你们的骨髓里、你们的肌理中、你们的脑袋里；它一定会在你们浑然不知当中改变你们所接触到的一切，甚至非你所愿。一旦你们真正圆满地解决了人类的问题，你们就会获得自己的生命哲学，并且逐步形成你们自己的生活艺术。你们必须将这一切运用到现实的条件当中，由此，新的创造就会产生出来，而不仅仅是重蹈覆辙——这一创造将属于你们人民的灵魂所有，并且你们可以自豪地将其作为对于人类福祉的贡品敬献给全世界。在所有的亚洲国家当中，只有你们日本有条件可以自由地依据你们的天赋和需求来使用从西方那里获得的物质财富。因此，你们的责任就更为重大，因为正是通过你们的声音，亚洲才得以对欧洲摆到人类会议桌上的诸多问题作出解答。在你们的土地上，实验将会进行下去。东方将会通过这一实验改变现代文明的面貌，以人类的心灵替代冷漠的功利——它对于权力和成功斤斤计较，却对和谐的成长、真理以及美丽视而不见、听而不闻。

我非常乐意同你们一起回味过去的时光。那时，整个东亚，从缅甸到日本，都以最亲密的友谊作为纽带与印度紧密地联系在一起。那友谊是存在于民族间的、唯一的自然纽带。它是心有灵犀的，是一套使得人性中反映最深层次需要的信息在我们之间可以自由传递的神经系统。那时，我们彼此并不惧怕对方；我们不需要武装自己以求相互制约；我们之间的关系不是建立在自私自利、剥削和掠夺彼此财富的基础之上；我们交流思想和理念，互换最崇高的爱的礼物；语言和风俗的迥异并没有阻碍我们彼此心心相印；没有什么身体或是精神层面的、种族的优越感或是傲慢无礼伤害我们之间的关系；我们的文学和艺术在这紧密团结在一起的、心灵的阳光普照下生叶开花，同时，生活在不同地域、操着不同语言、有着不同历史的各个种族都认同人类、最崇高的团结和最亲密的爱的纽带。我们难道不记得了吗？在那些充满和平和善意的、人们团结一致为生命的最高目标而奋斗的过去的时光里，你们的天性，依靠自身所具有的不朽的膏油，帮助你们的人民在新的时代获得了重生，帮助你们的人民摆脱了旧体制的束缚并且换上一副新的、年轻的皮囊，帮助你们的人民从这个世界前所未见的、最伟大的、革命的震荡中走出来而毫发无伤。

从欧洲的土地上萌芽，并且像多产的杂草一样在全世界蔓延开来的政治文明是建立在排他性的基础之上的。它总是虎视眈眈地拒“外人”于千里之外，或是干脆消灭他们。它嗜血成性，同类相残；它吞噬掉其他民族的资源并且试图毁灭他们的未来；它唯恐其他的种族获得成功——用它的话来说叫作危险；它试图在自己的边界之外扼杀一切伟大的事物；它压制其他羸弱的种族，希望它们永远羸弱。在这种政治文明大行其道之前，在它张开血盆大口吞噬掉地球上的各个大洲之前，我们有过战争、掠夺、王权的更迭以及由此引起的悲惨境遇。但是，我们从未见过如此可怕和绝望的贪婪，如此大规模的国家间的奴役，如此将大部分的世界绞成肉馅的庞大机器，如此恐怖的嫉妒——它张开丑恶的爪牙，随时准备将对方开膛破肚、剖腹挖心。这一政治文明是科学的而非人性的。它强大有力，因为它为达目的而孤注一掷，就像一位百万富翁为了攫取钱财宁可出卖灵魂。它背信弃义，并且厚颜无耻地编织谎言的罗网；它在自己的庙宇中供奉着巨大的贪婪偶像，并且以其奢华的膜拜仪式为傲——它称之为爱国主义。我敢保证，这一所谓的政治文明不可能长久地维系下去，因为在这个世界上还有道德的律法。它适用于个人，也同样适用于人类有组织的群体。没有人可以一方面以个人的名义享受这些道德律法所带来的好处，而另一方面却以国家的名义违背这些律法。这种公然的对于道德理想的腐蚀会慢慢地影响到每个社会成员，逐渐地在人们看不到的地方滋生虚弱，从而引起人们对于人性当中所有神圣东西的怀疑，这种怀疑正是人类衰老的病症。你们一定要记住，这一政治文明，这一爱国主义的信条还没有接受长期的考验。古希腊的明灯在其最初点燃之地已经熄灭；古罗马的权杖已经死去，并被掩埋在了它那广阔帝国的废墟之下。但是文明，其植根于社会和人类的精神理想，在中国和印度仍然拥有着生命。尽管以现代的、机械功率的标准来衡量，它可能略显虚弱和渺小，然而，它就如同细小的种子一样，仍然蕴藏着生命。一旦时机成熟，上天播撒下仁慈的雨露，它就会发芽、成长；它就会抽出仁爱的枝条，并且开花结果。但是，权力的摩天大厦一旦坍塌，贪婪的机器一旦破碎，即便是上帝的甘露也不会使其获得新生；因为它们本身不是生命，而是作为一个整体与生命对抗——它们是在对抗永恒真理之后所留下的支离破碎的残骸。

然而，我们却受到这样的指责：你们东方所珍爱的理想是静止的；它们没有前进的动力，也没有开拓新知识和才能的前景；作为东方诸多老朽文明支柱的哲学体系轻视所有外在的证据，对其主观的臆断麻木不仁且自鸣得意。这一指责证明了，当我们对知识的掌握含混不清的时候，我们就会倾向于指责作为客体的知识本身是含混不清的。对于西方的观察家来说，我们的文明看上去都是玄学，这就如同对一个聋子来说，弹钢琴不过是手指的运动而不是什么音乐。他不会相信我们的制度建立在某种已经发现的、深刻的现实基础之上。

不幸的是，所有现实的证据都还在实现的过程当中。而你只会根据亲眼所见的事实来判断场面的真实性，所以对我们来说，想要向某个怀疑我们文明的人作出解释绝非易事。但我还是要说，我们的文明并非一个由抽象的推论构成的混沌体系，它已经得出了某种不容置疑的真理——这种真理能够为人类的心灵提供庇护和滋养。我们的文明已经催生了一种内在的直觉——一种直觉的洞察力，一种在一切有限的事物中看到无限实情的洞察力。

但是那个人会说：“你们没有取得什么进步；你们根本就没动弹。”这时候我会问他：“你怎么知道我们没有进步呢？判断事物进步与否要看它的目标是什么。一列火车开到了终点算是进步了——它确实移动了位置。但是对于一棵已经长成的大树来说，它是不会像那列火车一样有确切的移动的；它的成长进步是生命内在的成长。它活着，带着对阳光的渴望——这渴望刺痛着它的叶片，在它寂静的树液中缓缓地流淌。”

我们也已经存活了几个世纪了；我们仍然活着，并且渴望着获得一个不断得以实现的现实——这一现实超越了死亡，并且赋予它意义；这一现实脱离了所有生活中的罪恶，并且给它带来和平与纯洁，以及欢愉的、对于自我的摒弃。这种现实是内心生活的产物，它是有生命的。当一个年轻人拖着满是灰尘的、疲倦的身躯回到家中的时候，当一个士兵战斗负伤的时候，当你的财富付之流水而自尊心遭受打击的时候，当一个人的心灵在浩繁的事实面前渴求真理，在彼此矛盾的诉求中期盼和谐的时候，你就需要它了。它的价值并不体现于物质财富的增长，而是体现在精神上的满足。

有些事物是不能等待的。如果你要战斗，或是想要在市场中占据有利的位置，你就必须冲过去，跑过去，或是急行军走过去。你绷紧了神经，时刻准备着捕捉到那些稍纵即逝的机遇。但是有些理想并不会跟我们的生活玩捉迷藏的游戏；他们从种子到花朵，从花朵到果实，缓慢地生长；他们要求得到无限的空间和天堂的光辉从而变得成熟，而且他们所结出的果实能够禁得住经年的摧残和漠视。东方，带着她的理想，怀抱着数个世纪的阳光和寂寞的星辰，能够耐心地等待——直到有一天，为了权宜之计而手忙脚乱的西方气喘吁吁，停下脚步。欧洲，在匆匆忙忙赶赴约会的疾驰中，会轻蔑地向车窗外面的、田野中的收割者瞟上几眼。此时她陶醉于自己的一路狂飙，难免会认为那个收割者的动作是多么的迟缓，并且总是在不断地倒退。然而狂飙走到了尽头，约会也失去了意义，而且饥饿的心灵吵闹着索要食物。直到最后，她终于来到行动迟缓的、在骄阳下忙碌着的收割者的身旁。因为，如果说公务不能等待，或是说做买卖不能等待，抑或是说对于新鲜刺激亟不可待，那么爱是可以等待的，美是可以等待的，遭受苦难所获得的智慧、耐心奉献所收获的果实、纯粹的信仰所带来的谦卑和温和是可以等待的。因此，东方一定会等到属于她的时代的来临。

我会毫不犹豫地承认欧洲的伟大之处，因为她的伟大是毋庸置疑的。我们会情不自禁地、全心全意地热爱她，并且满怀羡慕之情地向她致以最崇高的敬意——因为亘古以来，在文学和艺术方面，欧洲就以其美和真理的永不枯竭的瀑布流水灌溉滋养着所有的国家；因为欧洲正在以其强大无比且不知疲倦的心智席卷着全宇宙的峰峦和深渊，人们对她无所不包且渊博无比的知识推崇备至，而且正在将其伟大的学识和心智应用于救死扶伤，减轻人们的痛苦——而到目前为止，我们都还在心甘情愿地、无计可施地承受着这些苦难；因为欧洲正使得我们脚下的这片土地孕育出多得超乎人们想象的果实，她正将自然的伟大力量玩弄于股掌之间使其为人类服务。如此伟大的成就必然有其精神的推动力。因为只有人类的精神才能对抗所有的桎梏，才能对自身的最终成功抱有信仰；它将搜索的目光抛向远方、洞穿迷雾，它满心欢喜地以身赴死，为的是达到它在今生所不能达到的目标，它接受失败却从不放弃。在欧洲的心灵深处流淌着最为纯净的爱的血液，那是对于正义的爱，充满了为了更高理想而自我牺牲的精神。数百年来的基督教文化已经在她的生命深处沉积下来。在欧洲，我们见到过那些置肤色和信仰于不顾，为了维护人权挺身而出的义士；他们勇敢地面对来自自己一方的各种流言蜚语甚至谩骂攻击，为了仁爱的理想而战斗，为了反对疯狂的穷兵黩武，为了反对有时控制了整个民族的、要求进行野蛮的报复和掠夺的狂暴情绪而振臂一呼；他们随时准备为自己的民族在过去所犯下的错误进行补救，并且徒劳地想要截住怯懦的、非正义的洪水，而这洪水正因为来自受害者一方软弱无力、不疼不痒的抵抗而四处奔流。在现代的欧洲，确有这样一些游侠，他们还没有丢掉自己的信仰；他们信仰无私的、对于自由的热爱，信仰超越地理边界或是国家私利的理想。这些人证明了，在欧洲，永世长流的水的源头还没有枯干，而正是在那里她将一遍又一遍地获得新生。而在另外一些地方，欧洲正在有意识地忙于积累自己的力量，违背并且嘲笑着自己内心的天性；她正在将自己的邪恶堆积得高耸入云，吵闹着要得到上天的惩罚，并且将自己灵魂和肉体的丑恶嘴脸传染给整个地球——用她无情的商业肆意地凌辱着人们对于美和善的良知。当欧洲的脸庞转向其人性的一面时她是多么的仁慈啊，而当她的脸庞转向自己利益一方的时候她又是多么的恶毒啊——她会竭尽所能达到目的，而这些目的却与人类的无限和永恒的目标背道而驰。

东亚一直在沿着自己的道路前行。她形成了自己的文明——这是一种社会的而非政治的文明；它不是一种掠夺性的、拥有机械效能的文明，而是一种精神的文明；它建立在人性所具有的、全部的、各种各样的、深层次关系的基础之上。各族人民生活当中的问题的解决方案都来自于远离尘嚣的苦思冥想，并且在丝毫没有受到王朝更迭和外敌入侵干扰的情况下，超然地付诸实施。但是现在，外面的世界突然降临，要想远离尘嚣再也不可能了。然而，我们一定不要为此而感到遗憾，这就像一株植物，永远都不要因为其播种期的隐伏状态被打破而感到遗憾一样。现在是我们应当把世界的问题当作自己问题的时候了；我们必须把文明的精神与世界上所有民族的历史相调和；我们一定不要以一种愚蠢的、高傲的姿态，将自己封闭在曾经保护并且孕育我们理想的谷壳和地壳里；因为这些谷壳和地壳一定会被打破，唯其如此，生机勃勃的美丽生命才会喷涌而出，将礼物奉献给这个阳光灿烂的世界。

在此项冲破藩篱面对世界的任务中，日本已经代表东方第一个站了起来。她已经将希望注满了全亚洲的心灵。这种希望提供了隐藏的火种，而这火种正是一切创造性工作所必需的。现在亚洲感到，她必须以有生命力的成就证明自己的生命；她不应当再被动地休眠，或是以恐惧和献媚的蠢态虚弱地模仿西方。由此，我们要感谢这个太阳升起的国度，并且郑重地要求她记住自己所要完成的东方使命。她应当将更为完整的人性的活力注入到现代文明的心脏中去。她一定不要允许有害的灌木将它窒息；而要引领它向上，直达阳光和自由，直达纯净的空气和广阔的天际。在那里，每当黎明和黑暗来临的时候，它都能接收到上天的启迪。让日本的伟大理想昭示于世人吧，就如同她高高耸立的富士山山顶上的白雪一样，让所有地方的人们都看到——它卓尔不群，有美艳处女一般曼妙的身姿，而同时又坚定强壮，恬静庄严。

Ⅱ

我曾经游历过很多国家，见到过各色人等；然而在我的游历当中，却从来没有见到过像在这片土地上存在着的、如此特殊的人性。在其他伟大的国家，人们的权力会凸显出来，而我也见到过庞大的组织机构，他们在各个方面都富有效率。在那些国家，服装、家具、奢华的招待等等方面的铺张炫耀程度让人咂舌。他们似乎要让你自惭形秽，就像是一个闯入盛宴的、不名一文的不速之客一样；他们善于让你感到羡慕或是大吃一惊。在那里，你不会感到作为一个人的至高无上；相反你会感到被抛到了一堆光怪陆离的物品堆中。但是在日本，给人最深印象的东西不是权力或是财富的炫耀。你所到之处能看到的，大都是爱和赞赏，而不是野心和贪婪。你所看到的是这样一个民族：她的心灵已经释放了出来，并且大量地体现在了其最常见的日常用品中、社会制度里、温文尔雅的举止上，以及它优雅而练达的处事方式等方面。

日本留给我最深的印象是你们已经认识到了自然的秘密，不是通过科学分析的方法，而是通过你们的同情心。你们已经获知了她的种种姿态所代表的语言，她的缤纷色彩所奏响的音乐，她的不规则中的对称，她的自由运动中的韵律；你们已经看到了她是如何统领庞大的物质群体而避免摩擦的，她的造物间的矛盾是如何转化为舞蹈和音乐的形式爆发的，她的生机勃勃是如何地充满了自我抛弃，而不仅仅是肆意的展示。你们已经发现，自然以美的形式储存了自己的力量；这种美，就如同母亲一样，用胸怀哺育着所有巨大的力量，并让它们充满生机，而自己却恬静安详。你们已经知道，自然的能量通过其完美的节奏使其自身免于枯竭，而同时，以其温柔的曲线带走了世间的疲劳。我感到你们已经能够将这些秘密融入到你们的生命当中去，而且那世间万物当中所蕴含的真理已经走入了你们的灵魂。对于事物表面知识的获取用不着花很长的时间，然而对于它们精神实质的掌握则需要数个世纪的训练和自我约束。同自然和谐地融为一体要比从表面上控制她困难得多，然而唯其如此才能叫作真正的智慧。你们的种族已经表现出了如此的智慧，不是通过获取，而是通过创造；不是通过物品的展示，而是通过它的内在本质向外透露。所有的民族都有这种创造性的力量；而这种力量，在抓住人类的本性并且根据它的理想赋予它某种形式方面也总是跃跃欲试。但在这里，在日本，这一力量似乎已经取得了成功，并且深深地进入到了所有人的头脑中，渗透到了他们的肌肉和神经里。你们的本能已经变得真实，感官变得敏锐，而且你们的手已经获得了自然的技巧。欧洲的智慧给予了她的人民以组织的力量，这一点主要表现在政治、商业以及科学知识的统筹等方面。日本的智慧不仅让你们看到了自然的美，而且给了你们可以使得它在生活中得以实现的力量。

所有特定的文明都是对某些特定人类经验的解读。欧洲似乎已经强烈地感受到宇宙中各种事物间的矛盾冲突，而这些矛盾冲突只有通过征服的手段才能将其置于控制之下。因此，欧洲总是准备战斗，而且她大部分的精力都集中到了对于力量的组织上面。但是日本感到，在她的世界里，有某种神灵的存在，而它则唤起了她灵魂深处某种虔诚的崇拜。日本并不吹嘘对于自然的掌控，而是带着无与伦比的关心和快乐，带给自然以爱的奉献。日本与外部世界的关系是深层次的心灵的交汇。她已经与本国的群山、海洋、溪流，以及繁花似锦、枝繁叶茂的森林结成了爱的精神纽带；她已经对林地的沙沙低语和叹息、波浪的呜咽和抽泣敞开了心扉；她已经研究了太阳和月亮全部阴晴圆缺的变化，并且会高兴地关门歇业，以便迎接其果园、花园和麦田里的收获季节。这种对于外部世界的灵魂敞开心扉的状态并不仅仅局限在你们上层社会的小圈子里；它并不是外来文化强加给你们的东西，相反，它属于你们的全体人民——男人和女人。你们灵魂的这种与外部世界的某个神灵相交汇的经历体现在了你们的文明之中。这是一种人际关系的文明。你们对于国家所担负的责任自然而然地呈现出了如同子女孝敬父母那样的特点；由此，你们的国家就像一个家庭那样，而天皇则是你们的家长。你们国家的团结并非来自出于防御或是进攻目的而诉诸武力时所结成的同盟，也不是来自为了使得每个人都分得赃物而不得不将他们置身险境，进行冒险的劫掠时所形成的团伙。它不是为了某个密不可宣的目的而被迫组织起来的结果，而是一种家庭关系的延续和一种在广阔的时空范围内所形成的心灵的契约。你们文化的核心是“慈爱”（maitri: loving kindness）——以一颗慈爱的心对待他人，以一颗慈爱的心对待自然。这种爱是通过一种美的语言的形式加以传达的，而这种美的语言在这个国家随处可见。这就是为什么，像我这样的陌生人不会在这些美的化身和爱的造化面前感到嫉妒和屈辱，相反会愿意分享这种展示人类心灵时所带来的快乐和光荣。

这使得我更为担心给日本文明带来威胁的变化，因为这一变化就如同套在某个人身上的枷锁一样。由于现代社会所具有的巨大的同一性——它唯一的、共同的纽带就是利益，世界上没有哪个国家像日本这样，可怜巴巴地将尊严和有节制的美所隐藏的力量暴露在了这种同一性之下。

但是危险就在这里——有组织的丑恶侵袭着人们的头脑，靠着它庞大的体量和咄咄逼人的气势占据了上风。然而，它嘲讽的对象却是人们心灵深处的情感。它强硬且独断专行；不管你愿不愿意，它都出现在你的面前。它让我们的理智俯首称臣——我们就像野蛮人供奉那些因为看上去丑恶才显得强大的偶像一样，为它的祭坛献上祭品。因此，它与那些谦虚的、深刻的、生命当中微妙而精致的东西之间的竞争是多么令人恐惧啊。

我敢肯定，在日本一定有人对你们所传承下来的理想并不赞同，他们的目标是获取利益而不是自身的成长。他们大肆地吹嘘自己已经使得日本现代化了。如果说一个民族的精神要与时代的精神相和谐的话，那么在这一点上我是同意他们的意见的；不过我还是要告诫他们，现代化不过是现代主义的表象而已，这就像作诗不过是诗歌艺术的表象而已一样。这不过是模仿，不同的是，表象看上去比原本的东西更夸张，同时也更死板。我们必须记住，那些有真正现代精神的人并不需要现代化，这就如同真正勇敢的人靠的并不是嘴上吹牛。现代主义并不是欧洲人的服装；也不是欧洲的孩子们上课并接受训练时所在的某些丑陋的建筑物；也不是一些方形的房子——墙面平直，平行的窗户排列整齐，而欧洲人则住在里面终其一生；当然现代主义也不是欧洲女士们的帽子，上面缀满了毫不搭调的饰物。这些并不“现代”，仅仅是“欧洲”而已。真正的现代主义是自由的思想，而不是被奴役的品味。它是思想和行动的独立，而不是欧洲学校校长们的监护；它是科学，而不是科学在生活当中的错误应用。例如，我们对某位教授科学的老师简单地加以模仿，而他却将科学降格为迷信，荒谬地祈求它帮助实现所有不可能完成的目标。

单纯依靠科学来生活对于一些人是有吸引力的，因为这种生活具备所有游乐活动的特点；它假装严肃，然而并不深刻。如果你出去狩猎，那么你的同情心则越少越好；因为你唯一目的就是追逐并杀死猎物，并因此感到自己是更为伟大的动物，感到自己的猎杀方法是严密和科学的。科学的生活是一种肤浅的生活。它以技巧和完善的方法追求成功，然而对于更高层次的、人的天性则不予理会。有些头脑简单的人把生活规划得就好像是狩猎一样，他们的理想就是成为成功的猎手；然而这些睡在骷髅所制成的奖杯堆中的人是迟早会被噩梦惊醒的。

我从来都主张日本应当获得进行自我保护的现代武器。但是这种行动不要超过她进行自我防御的需求。她一定要明白，真正的力量并不在于武器本身，而是在于使用武器的人；如果有谁急切地渴望权力，并且以他的灵魂为代价扩充军力，那么他的处境就会比他的敌人更加危险。

所有有生命的东西都容易受到伤害；因此，他们要求得到保护。在自然界，生命体通过它自身的材料所制成的外壳保护自己。所以这些外壳与生命的成长是相互协调的，否则的话，时间一到，他们就会轻易地垮掉并被遗忘。人类的真正保护来自于他的精神理想——它与人类的生命休戚相关并且一同成长。然而不幸的是，所有人类的铠甲都是没有生命的——有的是钢铁制成的，行动不便且机械呆板。因此，在利用这些铠甲的同时，人类还需小心保护他自身不被铠甲所控制。如果他灵魂虚弱，不得不削足适履而穿上这件铠甲的话，那么他灵魂的萎缩则无异于慢性自杀。日本自己，一定要坚定地信仰道德的生存法则，相信西方各国正走在通往自杀的道路上；因为在那里，他们正在以各种组织的巨大重量压抑并且窒息着自己的人性，为的是让自己大权在握，同时让他人俯首称臣。

日本的危险并不在于模仿西方的外部特征，而是在于她接受西方民族主义的动机并且为己所用。日本的社会理想在其政治的操控下已经显现出了失败的迹象。我可以看到她从科学那里借鉴来的座右铭：“适者生存”，就赫然地挂在她当代历史的大门上。这个座右铭的意思就是，“照顾好你自己，永远不要管会给别人带来什么损失”——这是瞎子的座右铭，因为他们看不到东西，所以只相信自己的触觉。但是明眼人一看便知，人与人之间紧密相连，你攻击了别人也必会遭到别人的反戈一击。道德的律法是人类最伟大的发现，它发现了这样一条奇妙的真理——以人为鉴可以明得失。这一真理不但具有主观的价值，而且在我们生活的方方面面都有体现。那些不懈地将对道德的无视奉为爱国主义的圭臬的国家一定会暴毙而终。在历史上，我们曾见过多次的外敌入侵，但是他们从来都没有深深地触动过人民的灵魂。这些侵略不过是个人野心膨胀的结果而已。人民并不会为那些冒险行动卑鄙可耻的一面负责任；相反，他们自身会从这些冒险行动所具有的英雄和人性的方面受益匪浅。由此，他们培养了坚定不移的忠诚，对于所肩负的责任的全身心投入，完全的自我牺牲的勇气，以及面对死亡和危险时所表现出的大无畏精神。因此，位于人民心中的理想并不会由于某个国王或是将军所采取的政策而发生剧烈的变化。但是现在，西方民族主义的精神却大行其道：全体人民从小就接受想尽一切办法鼓动仇恨和野心的教育。人们编造历史上的、片面的真理和谎言；人们不断地丑化其他的种族和文化；人们经常错误地建造大事件的纪念碑，从而不断地鼓吹邻国和其他国家对于自己所造成的罪恶的威胁，然而事实上，出于人性的原因，这些所谓的大事本应当被快速地遗忘。这样做无异于毒害我们人性的本源，是在败坏我们与生俱来的、最伟大和最美好的理想。它是在将无与伦比的自私自利作为一种普世的宗教，提供给世界各国来朝拜。我们可以从科学的手中获取各种各样的东西，而唯独不能索取这颗将置道义于死地的仙丹妙药。永远都不要认为，我们给其他种族造成的痛苦不会落到自己的头上，或是我们在自家房前屋后种下的仇恨会像一堵围墙一样保护我们的永世平安。以某种变态的、唯我独尊的虚荣心为整个民众洗脑；教育他们以自己道德上的冷漠和攫取的不义之财为荣；通过展出在战争中所缴获的战利品以达到对战败国家永远的羞辱，并且在学校里面展出这些东西以培养孩子们对于其他国家的蔑视等等，上面所说的这些所作所为，都是在模仿带着溃烂脓疮的西方——是疾病对于生命力的吞噬造成了它的肿胀。

我们赖以生存的粮食作物是历经数百年的选择和培育才形成的。然而我们并不食用的植物则并不需要数代人的耐心照料。除去杂草并不是件容易的事情；但是，如果疏忽大意，那么毁掉我们的粮食作物，让它们回复到最初的野生状态，则是件轻而易举的事。文化也与此类似，它竭力地适应了你们这里的土壤——它与生活息息相关且通达人情。所以它在过去的时代需要我们进行耕耘和除草，现在同样需要我们的悉心照料。单纯的现代事物，例如科学和组织的方法，是可以移植的；但是攸关生死的人性的东西一旦被从其生长的土壤中移除则会死掉，因为它的纤维极为脆弱，根须不可胜数且交错纵横。因此，我为西方的政治理想所强加到你们原有的政治理想上所造成的压力而感到担忧。在政治文明中，国家是一个抽象的概念，而人与人之间的关系则是功利的。因为这样的政治文明并不是植根于情感，所以它易于操控却险象环生。半个世纪的时间对于你们来说已经足够来驾驭这台机器了；你们当中有些人对于它的喜爱超过了对于与你们的国家同时降生并且历经数百年培育而成的生命理想的热爱。这就像一个孩子，在他玩得兴起的时候，竟然会觉得自己对于玩物的喜爱超过了对于母亲的爱。

人们通常并不能意识到自己的伟大之处。你们的文明，它的主要推动力来自于人际关系的纽带，是在没有受到鬼鬼祟祟的自我分析的影响下，在健康生活的沃土中孕育成长起来的。但是单纯的政治关系是完全自觉的；它是一种富于侵略性的突然喷发的火焰。它靠突然的喷发引起你们的注意。现在是时候了，你们大家应当认识到自己赖以生存的真理是什么，而不再任人摆布却浑然不知。过去，是上帝赐予你们的礼物；而现在，你们必须作出自己的选择。

所以你们要向自己提出以下这些疑问：“我们是否错误地认识了世界，并且把与世界的关系建立在了对于人类本性一无所知的基础之上了呢？西方将她的国家福祉置于对于人性普遍不信任的藩篱的保护之下，这种做法可取吗？”

你们一定已经察觉了，无论何时，西方在讨论某个东方民族可能的崛起时，她的口吻中便充满了强烈的恐惧。之所以会这样，是因为西方所赖以发迹的力量是一种邪恶的力量；只有将这种力量据为己有她才会感到安全，而令其他的国家颤抖。现在欧洲文明的主要野心就是排他性地占有这一魔鬼。她所有的军事力量和外交手段都服务于这一目的。但是这种花费不菲的、为罪恶的神灵招魂而举行的奢华仪式正将她由繁荣引向了灾难的边缘。西方所释放到这个世界上的恐怖的仇恨，反过头来威胁到了她自身，并且驱使她实行越来越多的残暴政策；这使得她惶惶不可终日，并且除了自己给别国带来的，而最终又回报到自身的灾难以外，忘记了一切。欧洲牺牲其他的国家作为祭品，以敬献给这尊政治的魔鬼。只要其他国家的尸身还算新鲜，她便以其为食并且吃得腰滚肚圆——但是尸体最终一定会烂掉的，而死者的复仇方式就是将污染传到四面八方，从而毒害进食者的生命。日本拥有所有人性的财富，她的英雄主义和美的和谐统一，她的深深的自我克制和丰富的自我表现；然而，若不是她证明了，撒旦的猎犬不仅可以在欧洲的狗窝里繁育，同样也可以在日本得以生养并且以人类的苦难为食的话，那么西方各国是不会对她表示尊重的。只有当日本也获取了，只要她愿意就可以随时打开的，将地狱的烈火烧遍美好人间的灾难之门的钥匙的时候，只有当世界走向毁灭，而日本也能够随着他们的节拍与之一起大跳抢劫、谋杀、奸淫无辜妇女的魔鬼的舞蹈的时候，他们才会承认日本与自己拥有同等的地位。我们知道，在人类早期道德观念还不成熟的时候，他只会因为害怕上帝的恶毒手段而对其感到敬畏。但是，我们可以自豪地仰望这一人类的理想吗？在我们的文明发展了数百年之后，各个国家就像夜间潜行的野兽一样彼此惧怕对方；他们关闭了彼此间好客的大门；只有出于侵略或是防御的目的他们才会联合起来；他们将自己的商业秘密、国家秘密、军事秘密藏在洞穴里；为了获得和平，他们将本不属于自己的肉块投食给了彼此的鹰犬；他们压制想要挣扎着站起来的衰弱的民族；他们用右手给衰弱的民族派发宗教，而同时用左手对他们巧取豪夺——所有这些，有一丝值得我们羡慕的地方吗？我们要向这种民族主义的神灵顶礼膜拜吗？它正在向全世界播撒着恐惧、贪婪和猜疑的种子。它正在散布着无耻的外交谎言。它正在进行着造作的表演，鼓吹自己以促进和平、善意以及全体人类的手足之情为己任。当我们涌进西方的市场，以我们自己的传统来换取这种外国产品的时候，我们的心中就没有产生过怀疑吗？我知道，要了解自己并非易事；一个醉汉会狂怒地否认自己喝醉了；然而，西方正在焦虑地思考着她自身的问题，并且试图加以改变。但是她就如同一只贪婪的饕餮，并不真心想放弃暴饮暴食的习惯，而是天真地希望能够通过吃药来治愈自己消化不良的噩梦。欧洲还不打算放弃她在政治上的不人道，尽管这种不人道体现出了所有人类的低级情欲；她只相信对于制度的修改，而不相信对于心灵的改变。

我们乐意以头脑而不是心灵购买他们用机器制造出来的制度。我们会试用这些制度并且加以完善，但是我们不能将它们供奉在我们的家中或是庙宇里。有的种族会崇拜他们所猎杀的动物；在饥饿的时候，我们可以从他们那里买下肉食，但我们却不能学习他们猎杀动物后的崇拜行为。我们不能以诸如“生意归生意”、“战争归战争”、“政治归政治”等等迷信的说法毒害我们孩子们的思想。我们一定要明白，人类的生意不仅仅是生意，战争不仅仅是战争，而政治也不仅仅是政治。你们日本拥有自己的工业；要想知道你们的工业是多么的诚实和真切，看一看你们的产品就明白了——它们造型优雅而又结实耐用，它们在几乎观察不到的细节的方面也处理得一丝不苟。然而，来自于世界那端的谎言的潮汐已经席卷了你们的大地，在他们那里，生意归生意，而诚实也不过是最好的对策而已。当你们看到商业广告的时候就从来没有感到过羞耻吗？那些商业广告不仅给整个城镇都涂抹上了谎言和夸张，而且还侵入到农民们诚实劳动着的绿色的田野中，侵入到了早晨第一缕清澈的阳光所照射到的山岗上。当谎言和欺骗骄傲地打着贸易、政治和爱国主义的旗号在海外大行其道时，那种不间断的腐蚀会轻易地让我们的荣誉感和敏锐的思想变得迟钝起来，进而使得任何对于他们永久性地侵入我们生活的指责，都会被认为是多愁善感和缺乏男子汉气概的表现。

现在的情况是，子孙后代们积极地编织着谎言，也不会因为从谎言中获得利益而感到羞耻；相反，他们的父辈却是宁死也要信守诺言，他们鄙视靠欺骗以赢取庸俗的利益，在战斗中他们宁可失败也不愿意丧失荣誉。这一切的改变都是因为受到了“现代”这个词的魔力的影响。但是，如果“现代”就是指纯粹的功利的话，那么美可是属于所有时代的；如果“现代”就是指卑鄙的自私自利的话，那么人类的理想可不是什么新鲜的发明。所以我们必须明白，无论“现代”因着方法和机器的缘故，如何擅长削弱人类的劳动能力，它都将不得善终。

然而，当我们试图将自己的思想从欧洲傲慢的声言中解放出来的时候，当我们试图帮助自己从沉迷的泥潭中脱身的时候，我们可能会走向另外一个极端——对于所有西方的东西不作区别地加以怀疑。幻想破灭时的反应与最初幻想产生时的冲动是一样的虚幻。我们需要努力达到一种正常的思想状态。在这种状态下，我们可以清楚地看到自身所存在的危险，并且在公正地对待产生危险的源头的前提下，对其加以规避。我们总会自然而然地希望能够以欧洲之道还治欧洲之身，并且以眼还眼、以牙还牙。但是，这种做法本身就是在模仿欧洲的最恶劣的行径之一：她在对待自己所描述的黄、红、棕、黑等等各个种族的人民时的所作所为就是如此。我们曾经以完全轻蔑的态度和残忍来威胁那些属于某一特定宗教、肤色或是社会阶级的人们。在对人性进行攻击这一点上，我们东方人不得不承认自己所犯下的罪行并且承认我们的罪过，即便不是更大，起码也与欧洲人不相上下。我们的弱点是遇到强权就俯首称臣。正是由于我们害怕自己的这个弱点，所以我们才会试图以另外一个弱点来代替它——对西方所取得的成就视而不见。只有当我们真正地了解了欧洲的伟大和善良，才能让我们有效地远离欧洲的卑鄙和贪婪。当面对人类苦难的时候，我们很容易做出不公正的判断——悲观失望是由于一方面崇信理想，而另一方面心智却饱受摧残而造成的。只有当对给信念带来力量的真理失去信心时，当信念遭受了巨大的挫败并且祈盼着自己能够涅槃重生的时候，我们才会对人性感到绝望。我们必须承认在西方的身上有这样一个活的灵魂——它悄无声息地与强大的组织机构进行着斗争——正是这些组织机构将男人、女人和儿童压得粉碎；正是这些组织机构的机械的零部件置精神的和人道的律法于不顾。这一灵魂，在与它缺乏自然同情心的种族进行交往的时候，拒绝让自己的触角因为疏忽大意的危险习惯而完全地失去敏锐。如果西方的力量仅仅是如动物或机器一般的力量的话，那么她永远都不可能达到她如今的成就。她心中的神性正在由于她双手所带给这个世界的伤害而受到煎熬——也正是从她的这种高尚天性的疼痛中流淌出了神秘的、能够将这些伤害治愈的膏油。她曾经一次又一次地否定自己，并且亲手解开她套在无助的人们身上的锁链；尽管她为了攫取钱财，以武力相逼迫，将毒药强行灌入某个伟大民族的喉咙，可她还是在清醒之后，退出行动，并且再次把双手洗得干干净净。这不时地证明了，她还保有隐藏的人性源泉，尽管它看上去似乎已经死掉或是枯竭。这还说明，能够帮助她摆脱如此胆怯而又凶残的行径的本来天性并不是贪婪，而是对于无私理想的尊崇。无论对于我们还是对于欧洲来说，认为欧洲仅仅是通过炫耀自己的力量才使得现代东方诸民族神魂颠倒的说法，都是完全不公正的。欧洲道德本性的光辉穿透加农炮的硝烟和市场上扬起的尘土而大放异彩。她给我们带来了道德自由的理想，这一理想的根基要比社会习俗扎得更深，而且它的活动范围则是世界性的。

东方已经本能地感到，即便是带着厌恶的情绪，自己仍有很多东西要向西方学习。这些要学习的东西不仅仅包括能够产生力量的材料，而且还包括欧洲的内涵，比如人类的心智以及他的道德天性。欧洲一直在教育我们，公序良俗的约束力要高于家庭和宗族的约束力；使得社会免受个人不确定性影响的神圣的法治精神，确保了社会的进步以及对于社会全体成员的公平正义。最重要的是，历经数百年的牺牲和不懈的努力，欧洲在我们面前高举起了自由的旗帜——良知的自由、思想和行动的自由、艺术和文学理念的自由，等等。由于欧洲已经获得了我们深深的敬意，所以，她的极为虚弱和错误的方面对于我们来说就会变得极为危险——这种危险就像是与我们最喜爱的食物混在一起同时端上来的毒药一样。有一种可以信赖的、保障我们安全的方法。这就是，在对抗她的诱惑和剧烈的侵蚀时，我们可以与欧洲结为盟友；因为一直以来，欧洲都有着她自己的善恶标准。通过这一标准，我们可以探知她的堕落，衡量她的失败；通过这一标准，我们可以在她自己的法庭上传唤她，并且揭露她的丑行——唯其如此，才能彰显真正的高贵。

然而，我们所担心的是她的毒药要比食物更厉害，她今天所拥有的力量并非是健康的标志，而是恰恰相反；因为，她的力量可能是由于其生命体暂时地失去平衡所致。我们担心的是，当罪恶获取了巨大的身形，它就会拥有致命的魔力——尽管最终它一定会因为自己反常的比例失衡而失去重心，但在它轰然倒下之前所造成的伤害可能是难以弥补的。

因此，我请求你们要坚定信心，同时保持清醒的头脑。一定要知道，靠钢铁的、高效的螺栓结合在一起的，在野心勃勃的车轮上奔跑着的，现代进步的庞然大物一定不会长久地维系。撞车是迟早的事，因为它不得不在指定好的线路上行走；它太过笨重，所以不能自由地选择自己的路径，而当它一旦脱离了轨道，长长的车厢就会翻倒。总有一天它会变成一堆废铁，严重地阻塞世界的交通。难道现在我们还没有看到这一迹象吗？我们还没有听到战争的喧嚣、仇恨的尖叫、和绝望的哀嚎吗？我们还没有看到长久以来在民族主义的深处所沉积并被翻搅起来的、难以名状的污秽吗？所有这些都在向我们的灵魂哭诉，告诉我们，民族的自私的高塔，尽管它以爱国主义的名义打起了反叛天庭的旗号，也一定会摇摇欲坠并且最终倒塌，一定会被它自己的大块头所压倒，它的旗帜一定会淹没于尘土，它的光亮终将会熄灭。兄弟们，当火灾的烈焰对着星辰发出噼啪作响的欢笑时，你们一定要对星辰，而不是对破坏性的烈火充满信心。因为，当大火燃尽熄灭的时候，留下的只是一堆灰烬，而永恒的光芒则会再一次在东方闪耀——在那孕育了人类历史的，太阳初升的东方闪耀。谁又敢说这一天还没有来临，而太阳还没有升起在亚洲最东方的天际呢？就像我的先哲所做过的那样，我要向东方的日出敬礼，它定会再一次地照亮整个世界。

我知道，我的声音太过微弱，不可能盖过这个熙熙攘攘的时代的喧嚣。任何一个街边的顽童都会轻而易举地给我取个“空想家”的绰号。这个“空想家”的标签会一直粘在我的上衣后摆上面，永远都洗刷不掉，从而让所有可敬的人们都对我嗤之以鼻。我知道，现如今，如果有谁在一群体格强健而又躁动不安的人当中并被冠以“理想主义者”的名号，那么他要冒多么大的风险。因为现在，王权已经失去了往日的威严，而预言家们则变成了一个时代错误；现如今，来自市场的喧闹淹没了所有声响。然而有一天，当我站在横滨市的郊区，对它所呈现出的现代景象震惊不已的时候，我看到了你们城市南方大海上的日落，我发现了长满松树的山岗中所蕴含的静谧和庄严——雄伟的富士山在金色的地平线的映衬下正变得模糊不清，就像一位天神被他自己的光辉所笼罩——永恒的音乐之声在寂静的黑夜中奏响，而我感到，天空与大地，以及黄昏与黎明所作的抒情歌谣只能是属于诗人和理想主义者，而并非属于那些对于所有情感都粗鲁地加以鄙视的商人们——我感到，在对于自己的神性不理不睬之后，人类将会再次记起上苍其实是一直与这个世界相联系的，它永远都不会将这个世界抛弃给现代追逐名利、嗜血成性并且对天哀嚎的群狼。

西方的民族主义

人类的历史是由我们所遭遇到的困难塑造而成的。这些困难给我们提出了疑问，同时也期望得到我们的解答，而对没能完成这一任务的惩罚则是死亡或是衰退。

世界上不同的民族所遭遇到的困难是不尽相同的，而我们克服这些困难的方式也各有不同。

生活在亚洲历史早期的塞西亚人不得不设法解决他们自然资源匮乏的问题。他们最初想到的解决方法就是将整个部族，不分男女老幼，都组织起来，以团伙的方式去抢劫。而那些主要从事社会协作性质的、建设性工作的人们简直拿他们没有办法。

但所幸的是，人类最初选择的道路并非他的真正道路。如果他的天性不是那么复杂的话，如果他像一群恶狼一样头脑简单的话，那么到此时此刻，那些从事抢劫的游牧部落就会控制整个世界。但是人类，当他遇到困难的时候，一定会承认他是人，他必须对自己天性中更高级别的才能加以利用。如果他忽视了这些，那么即便可能会取得眼下的成功，这成功也必将会成为他的死亡陷阱。因为对于一些低等的生物来说是困难的东西，对于像人类这种更高级的生命来说则是机遇。

印度从其历史的最开端就面临着这样的问题——种族问题。在印度，人种学意义上的不同种族已经有了亲密的接触。这一事实曾经是，将来也一定是这个国家历史上最重要的问题。我们的使命就是正视它，以实事求是的态度对待它，从而证明我们的仁爱。除非我们完成了自己的使命，其他的任何利益都不会与我们有缘。

世界上其他民族要么需要克服其自然环境所带来的困难，要么需要战胜他们的强邻所带来的威胁。他们组织起了自己的力量，以便充分地保障自身不受自然界和邻国的奴役，甚至利用其手中过剩的力量威胁他人。但是在印度，我们的困难来自于内部。我们的历史就是一部不间断的、社会调整的历史，而不是一部讲述将力量组织起来进行防御或是侵略的历史。

无论是苍白含混的世界主义还是对本民族狂热的自我崇拜都不是人类历史的目标。一直以来，印度都在试图完成自己的任务。她一方面对差异进行社会规范，另一方面，则倡导对于团结精神的认同。印度犯下了严重的错误，因为她在种族之间建立了过于森严的壁垒，以使得对于种族三六九等的划分可以无限期的延续；她常常毒害孩子们的思想并且限制他们的生活，以达到将他们划归到特定社会等级的目的。但是几个世纪以来，人们已经进行了新的实验，作出了新的调整。

印度的使命就像是一位家庭主妇的使命：她要为无数的客人提供合适的食宿，而这些客人的习惯和要求却各不相同。这样就产生了极为复杂的情况——要应对这些情况，不仅仅要依靠老练和机智，还要依靠同情心以及人与人之间的真正团结。为了实现这种团结，从早期《奥义书》〔1〕的时代一直到现在，许多精神导师一直在努力地工作着，他们的任务之一就是通过全心全意的、对于上帝的觉悟来蔑视所有人与人之间的差异。事实上，我们的历史从来就不是王朝兴衰的历史，不是争夺政治权位的历史。在印度，有关这些方面情况的记载已经为人们所唾弃、忘记，因为它们并不能代表我们人民的真正历史。我们的历史是有关社会生活的历史，是有关实现精神理想的历史。

但是我们感到自己的任务还未完成。世界的洪流已经席卷了我们的国家，新的元素被介绍进来，而更为广泛的调整正在蓄势待发。

因为西方所提供的教导和榜样与我们认为印度所应当完成的任务背道而驰，所以我们更为迫切地认识到了上述这一点。在西方，商业和政治的国家机器制造出了包装整齐的人性的压缩包，它们自有用处并且市场价值高昂；但是，它们是用铁条捆绑好的，以精密和仔细的科学手段进行了分门别类。显然，上帝造的人应当具有人性，但是西方这件现代产品却拥有令人赞叹的、棱角分明的大工业制成品的味道。所以，造物主一定很难相信这件产品拥有什么灵魂，并且是按照他自己的神圣模样生产出来的。

但是我满怀期望。我要说的是，无论你怎样看待她，印度就是印度。一个拥有至少五千年历史的印度。一个试图和平地生活、深刻地思考的印度。她完全不关心政治，不关心政府，她唯一的雄心壮志就是将这个世界当作精神的存在加以认知，在这世界里以温顺而倾慕的精神度过她生命的每一刻，并且高兴地意识到自己与这个世界之间存在着的永恒的、密切的联系。这正是人性中边远的一部分，它的行为如孩子，而智慧却如长者。然而就在此刻，西方民族却突然闯了进来，打破了这里的宁静。

尽管历经了早期历史上的战争、阴谋和欺诈，印度却依然保持着超然的态度。因为她拥有属于自己的家庭、土地、学校和庙宇。在学校里，老师们和学生们在朴素、关爱和求知的气氛中生活在一起，而她的自治村庄则拥有简明的法律以及和平的管理。然而，印度所关心的并非她的王权。王权的更迭于印度就像是过眼云烟——一会儿染上了绚烂的紫色，一会儿又乌云压城，电闪雷鸣。王朝更迭过后留下的是一片狼藉，但是就像是自然灾害一样，人们对它所留下的痕迹不久便忘却了。

但这次却不同了。这次不仅仅是掠过印度生活表层的过眼云烟，例如骑兵和步兵，盛装的大象，白色的帐篷和华盖，驮着王室物品的、四平八稳地走过来的骆驼队，由铜鼓和长笛所组成的乐队，大理石砌成的圆顶的清真寺，宫殿和陵墓等等，就像奢华的起泡酒所漾起的泡沫一样到处都是；也不仅仅是关于叛逆和效忠的故事，财富流转的故事，命运起伏的故事等等；这次来的是西方民族，它将自己机械的触手深深地扎入了这片土地。

因此我对你们说，正是“我们”作为证人被召集起来，来证明所谓的民族对于人类来说意味着什么。大家都知道曾经入侵印度的莫卧尔人和帕坦人的游牧部落，但是对我们来说他们都是人类种族，他们有自己的宗教和习俗，自己的好恶和爱憎——我们从未把他们当作一个民族来看待。我们根据不同的情况，时而爱他们时而恨他们；我们为他们打过仗也曾经与之为敌；我们与他们用同一种语言交谈；而我们在决定王国命运的时候也发挥了积极的作用。但是，这次我们要面对的不是国王，不是人类种族，而是一个民族——而我们自己却还不是一个民族。

现在让我们，从我们自己的经验出发，来回答这样一个问题：到底什么是民族呢？

民族是指，全体人民为了某个机械的目的，即获取政治和经济的利益，而组织在一起所形成的团体。这样的社会团体，其目的非常明确。它自身就是目的。它是人作为一种社会存在的，自然的自我表露。它是对人际关系的自然规范，以便人们能够在与他人的合作过程中产生自己的人生理想。民族还有其有关政治的一面，但是它仅仅服务于特定的目的，即进行自我保护。它仅仅是权力的一面，而非人类的理想。早期的时候，它在社会中有自己单独的活动区域，局限在专业人士的范围之内。但是在科学和日益完善的组织的帮助之下，它的权力开始增长并且开始获得大量的财富。接着，它便以极快的速度跨越出了自己的活动范围。然后，它以对于物质繁荣的贪欲，彼此的相互嫉妒，以及对于对方变得强大而产生的恐惧等等，来刺激它所有毗邻的社会团体。现在它已经是欲罢不能了，因为竞争越来越激烈，组织越来越庞大，而自私自利则变得至高无上。它利用人类的恐惧和贪婪，在社会中占据了越来越大的空间，而且最终成为了统治力量。

你完全有可能，由于习惯所致，没有意识到生机勃勃的社会纽带正在分崩离析，正在让位于单纯的机械的组织。但是它所表露出的迹象其实是随处可见的。正因为如此，我们看到，男人和女人之间已经爆发了战争，因为将他们和谐地连接在一起的自然纽带正在崩断；因为男人们被驱赶上了专业主义的道路，忙于为自己也为他人生产财富，他们不断地为了自己或是为了迎合普遍的官僚作风而转动权力的车轮，然而女人们却被冷落一旁，孤独终老或是孤军奋战。因此，自然的合作状态被竞争所打破。男人和女人对待彼此关系的心理也在发生着变化，变为了一种包含原始的斗争元素的心理，而不再是那种以相互的自我牺牲为基础的，追求完善的人性。那些已经失去了与现实之间联系的元素，同时也就失去了存在的意义。这就像是气体的微粒被打进了过于狭小的容器，它们彼此之间会不断地发生冲突，直到有一天它们会冲破将其困锁在一起的这个容器。

下面，我们看一下那些自称为无政府主义者的人们。他们憎恨以任何一种形式将权力强加给个人。他们之所以如此，唯一的原因就是权力已经变得过于抽象——它是一种在民族的政治的实验室里，通过对人性进行分解而造就的科学产品。

那么，经济领域内的罢工又说明了什么呢？它们就像是从荒芜的土地上突然冒出来的带着刺儿的灌木丛一样，每次被砍倒而每次又都恢复了生机。生产财富的机制正在日益地膨胀变大，并且与其他所有的社会需求之间失去了比例平衡，而真正意义的人则在它的重压下扭曲变形，这又说明了什么呢？这种现状不可避免地导致了从人类理想的整体性和健全性中所释放出来的各种元素间无休止的争斗，而长期的经济冲突则在劳资之间持续地爆发。因为财富和权力的贪婪从来都没有满足的时候，而个人利益所作出的妥协也从来都不可能达到最终的和解。它们一定会继续产生嫉妒和猜疑，直到最后，突然的灾难或是一次精神的重生才会结束这一切。

当这个叫作民族的、政治和经济的组织，在以牺牲高尚的社会生活的和谐为代价的情况之下变得强大有力的时候，人类的灾难也就来临了。当一位父亲变成赌徒的时候，他头脑中对于家庭的责任就会退居次席，于是他便不再是一个人了，而是变成了一个依靠贪婪驱动的机器人。此时，他能够做出来原本在他头脑正常状态下所不耻的事情。社会的情形也与此相同。当社会变成了一个完美的权力组织的时候，就不会有什么罪恶勾当是它所不能为之的，因为此时，获得成功是一台机器的目标和评判其价值的依据，而所谓善良不过是人类所追求的目标而已。当这个组织的引擎开始变得体积庞大，而它机器的零部件则由人来充当的时候，于是乎作为个人的人便被消灭了，取而代之的是机器人。而结果是，所有一切都演变成为一场政策革命——一场由没有同情心和道德责任感的、机器当中由人所组成的零部件来付诸实施的政策革命。也许人类的道德本性会利用这台机器来为自己正名，但是此时，整套的绳索和滑轮会咯吱作响，人类心灵的力量会在人类机器力量的包围下变得纠结混乱，从而，人类道德的目的只会艰难地以某种扭曲的形象展现出来。

这个叫作民族的、抽象的东西，正在统治着印度。我们在印度见过某个品牌的罐装食品在广告中宣称，整个食品的制造和包装过程中都没有接触过人手。这一描述同样适合于对于印度的统治，因为它也极少被人手碰到过。总督们并不需要学会我们的语言，除了作为官员，他们也不需要同我们有什么私人的瓜葛；他们只需要站得远远的就可以帮助或是阻碍我们实现自己的愿望，他们能够带领我们实行某种政策，而后又通过其官僚机构的操控收回成命。在英国的报纸上，我们可以看到相关的栏目以某种庄重哀婉的语气报道伦敦街道上所发生的某些事故，然而对于发生在印度的，某些面积比不列颠群岛还大的地方的灾难却只是蜻蜓点水，一带而过。

但是我们这些被统治的人并不是一个抽象的概念。我们是具有各种感官的个体。强加给我们的、单纯冷酷的政策可能会直接刺入我们生命的要害，阉割掉我们的雄风，带给我们永远的无助，从而威胁到我们人民的全部未来。而与此同时，它却可能永远都不会触及人性的另一面，或是仅仅以最软弱无力的方式对它有所触碰。作为个体的人，永远都不会在浑然不知中做出如此大规模和全面的、履行可怕责任的行动。只有当人类变换成一只代表抽象概念的八爪鱼时，这些行动才有可能被付诸实施——它向四面八方伸出其蠕动的腕足，并且将其不可胜数的吸盘附着在遥远的未来身上。在民族的这种统治之下，被统治的一方成为了怀疑的对象；而且这种怀疑来自于一个体型庞大的、组织有序的血肉之躯。它对我们施以惩罚，在一大片滴血的心灵之上留下痛苦的印记，但是这些惩罚仅仅是来自于一种抽象的力量，而远方某个国家的全体人民则在这一力量之中丧失了自己的人性。

然而我来到这里并不是要讨论影响到我自己国家的问题，而是要探讨影响到全体人类未来的问题。这个问题不是关于英国政府的问题，而是关于民族治下的政府的问题——这个民族代表了其全体人民的私利，它最没有人性，也最没有精神。我们唯一的，有关民族的切身经历是来自于不列颠民族的。只要民族的统治一天不停止，我们就有理由相信不列颠民族的统治是最好的统治之一。于是，我们需要再一次地考虑东西方的关系——对于东方来说，西方确实必不可少。我们东西方是互为补充的，因为我们对待生活有着不同的看法，而这些不同的看法又给我们展现出了真理的不同侧面。因此，如果说西方的精神的确是披着暴风雨的伪装来到了我们的田野的话，那么毋庸讳言，它也在我们这里撒下了不朽的、生命的种子。而在印度，当我们能够将西方文明当中永恒的东西吸收到我们自己的生命之中时，我们就一定可以达成这两个伟大世界的和谐共生。而随后，一方对另外一方的、让人恼怒的统治就会终结。除此之外，我们还要明白，印度的历史并非专属于某个特定的种族，它是一个创造的过程——在这期间，来自世界上的很多不同的种族都作出了自己的贡献。它们包括：德拉威人和雅利安人，古希腊人和波斯人，西方和中亚的伊斯兰教徒，等等。现在终于轮到英国人忠实于印度的历史并且为它作出贡献来了。我们既没有权力也没有力量将英国人从构建印度命运的进程当中排除在外。因此，这里我所谈到的民族，更多的是同人类的历史相关，而非特指印度的历史。

如今的历史已经来到了这样一个阶段：有道德的、完善的人正在浑然不知当中让位于政治的和商业的人——那些仅仅服务于特定目的的人。在科学的巨大进步的帮助下，这种人所占的比例和所拥有的权力正在迅速膨胀，从而引起了人类道德天平的失衡，在没有灵魂的组织的阴影笼罩之下蒙蔽了他人性的一面。我们感觉到，这一现状已经如铁腕一般控制了我们的生命根基。因此，为了人类，我们必须站起来并且对所有人发出警告，告诉人们，民族主义是一种罪恶的、残忍的瘟疫，它正在席卷当今人类世界，并且吞噬掉它的道德活力。

我深爱着作为人类的不列颠种族，并且对它满怀敬意。它曾孕育了豪爽的人们、伟大的思想家和伟大事业的践行者，它曾创造了伟大的文学。我知道，不列颠人民热爱正义和自由，而且痛恨谎言。他们思想纯洁、行为坦率、友谊真挚，在为人处世方面诚实可靠。我与他们文学界的人们相接触的个人经历，使得我不仅仅对他们的思想和表达的能力钦佩有加，而且对他们的侠义人格更是羡慕不已。就像感觉到了太阳的伟大一样，我们也感觉到了不列颠人民的伟大。但是，至于不列颠民族，它就如同将太阳遮盖起来的，在寂静的大自然当中升腾而起的一团厚厚的迷雾。

这个民族统治下的政府既不是英国式的也不是其他什么东西；它是一种应用科学，因此，无论在哪里使用它，它的原理都大同小异。它就像是一台液压机，它的压力是不带有感情的，所以是非常有效的。它力量的大小会随着引擎的不同而不同。有些液压机甚至于是由手工推动的，所以它们在挤压的时候会松松垮垮，较为舒适，然而这些液压机在其精神实质和操作方法上却都大体相同。我们的政府即便是荷兰式的，法国式的，抑或是葡萄牙式的政府，它的基本特点也会跟现在的政府保持一致。只有在某些情况下，当它的组织还不十分完善的时候，一些人性的碎片将会附着在它的残骸之上，允许我们做一些与我们自己的心灵相关联的事情。

在民族统治我们之前我们也有过其他的外国政府，这些外国政府就像其他所有政府一样，自身也有某些机械的元素。但是这些政府与民族统治下的政府之间的区别就像是手工织机与机械织机之间的区别。在手工织机的产品当中我们能够看到人类手指所留下的、活生生的魔法般的印记，而且它的嗡嗡声与生命的韵律和谐共鸣。但是机械织机的产品却是冷酷无情的、没有生命的、精确的和单调乏味的。

我们必须承认，在历史上个人统治的时期曾经有过暴政、不公和敲诈勒索的情形。它们所产生的痛苦和不安是我们唯恐避之不及的。对我们来说，法律的保护不仅仅是恩惠，它还对我们教益颇丰。法律教给我们要遵守规则，而这些规则对于保持文明的稳定和进步的持续是必不可少的。通过法律，我们认识到在这世界上有着普世的正义标准——所有的人，无论他们的社会等级与肤色，都拥有在这一普世的正义标准之下接受平等保护的权利。

印度的现政府所推行的法治已经在这个幅员辽阔的、由不同种族和风俗习惯的人民所聚居的国家建立起了秩序。它已经使得这里的人民能够彼此更加密切地接触，并且培养他们所共同拥有的理想。

但是这种在印度的各个不同种族之间建立起共同的、同志般友谊的纽带的愿望并非来自于西方的民族，而是来自于西方的精神。无论何时，亚洲人民所接受到的，来自于西方的教益，都与西方的民族没有什么关系。只有当日本能够成功地抵御此种西方民族的统治时，她才会在最大程度上得到西方文明的好处。尽管中国已经在其道德和物质生活的最源头被这种民族下了毒，然而如果她能克服它的阻碍，那么她为了学习西方最好的东西所付出的努力就仍然有可能取得成功。就在几天以前，波斯刚刚从其长时间的沉睡中被西方唤醒，然而紧接着就在民族的铁蹄蹂躏之下再次销声匿迹。同样的现象也发生在这个国家——在这里，人民热情好客，但是民族却完全不同——它让一位作为他自己国家中一员的东方的客人在自己的国家感受到了屈辱。

在印度，我们忍受着西方精神同西方民族之间的矛盾所带来的痛苦。民族以一种吝啬的方式向我们少量地施舍西方文明的好处。它试图控制我们所得到的营养物质，使其所包含的活力成分尽可能地接近于零。它分配给我们的教育残缺不全且严重不足，这足以使得西方人的道德准则蒙羞受辱。我们在西方国家看到，他们鼓励、训练，并且提供所有的便利条件给他们自己的人民，为的是使他们能够适应扩散至全球的、伟大的商业和工业运动。然而在印度，我们得到的唯一帮助却是因为贫穷落后而受到的民族的嘲弄。民族剥夺了我们的机会，将我们的教育减少到在一个外国人当权的政府当中供职所需要的最低程度。而与此同时，它通过与我们称兄道弟并且大肆地鼓吹傲慢的市侩思想——东方是东方，西方是西方，东西方永远不会有交集等等方法，来使得它的良心得到安慰。我们的老师说，在他对印度将近两个世纪的调教之后，她不仅仍然不适合建立自治政府，而且在其文化素养方面也仍然没有创新的能力。假如我们必须接受这一嘲弄的话，那么，我们是应当把这一结果归咎于我们所固有的、缺乏学习西方文化本性中的某些东西的能力呢，还是应当将其归咎于已经承担起了教化东方的责任的民族所表现出来的谨小慎微的吝啬呢？我们可能会承认，自己缺乏某些日本人民所具有的品质，但是我们不能接受自己的智力与他们比较起来就是天然地缺乏创造性的说法，即便这些话是出自于那些我们很难加以驳斥的人之口。

事实是，西方民族主义的核心和根源就是对抗和征服的精神；它的根基并不是社会合作。它已经逐渐形成了一套完善的权力组织，而非精神上的理想主义。它就像是一群掠食者，必须占有自己的猎物。它真心真意地不能容忍看到自己的猎场转化成为种植的园地。事实上，这些民族之间也在彼此争斗，为的是扩大它们猎物的品种和保留林地的范围。因此，西方的民族就像是堤坝一样阻碍着西方文明自由地流入到非民族主义的国家。因为这一文明是权力的文明，所以它具有排他性；它自然而然地不愿意向那些已经被它选作是自己剥削对象的国家敞开它力量的源泉。

但是即便如此，人类毕竟要遵守道德的律法；那些排他性的文明——它们依靠剥削其他文明而发家致了富，却不允许它们共享其利益，必然会在其道德局限性当中携带着它们自己的死亡判决书。它们所带来的奴隶制度会在不知不觉中将它们对于自由的热爱消耗殆尽。对于成为自己猎物的国家的压迫而给它们造成的无助感，会每时每刻地反作用于它的制造者。被民族剥夺了自我持续更生能力的，世界上的大多数国家总有一天会成为它最为可怕的负担，并且将其拉下马，投入到毁灭的深渊。什么时候权力为了能够为所欲为而将其道路上的关卡全部移走，什么时候它就成功地驶向了其最终的灭亡。权力的道德闸线每天都会在其不知不觉中变得懒惰松弛，而它所走的光滑的捷径此时就会成为一条通向死亡的不归之路。

在我们得到的西方文明的所有事物当中，西方民族以最为慷慨的态度给予我们的就是法律和秩序。当我们教育的奶瓶将近枯竭，公共卫生事业在绝望中吮吸着自己大拇指的时候，军事组织、地方官员的衙署、警察部门、犯罪调查科、秘密特工系统，等等，却成长得异常膀大腰圆，占满了我们国家的每一寸土地。这是为了维持秩序。但是，这种秩序难道不正是一种消极的好处吗？它难道是为了给人民的生活带来更多的、自由发展的机会吗？这种秩序的完善就如同一枚鸡蛋壳的完善一样，它的真正价值在于为小鸡提供了安全庇护和营养，而不在于它给吃早餐的人提供了方便。单纯的管理是非生产性的；它不具有创造性，没有活力。它就是一台蒸汽压路机，其重量和力量让人畏惧，其用处显而易见；但是，它并不能使土地变得富饶。当它一番苦干之后就会施与我们和平的恩惠，而我们则只得低声地埋怨道：“和平固然是好，不过怎么也好不过上帝所赐予我们的生命。”

另一方面来说，我们先前的政府严重地缺乏一个现代政府所具备的很多优点。但是，由于这些政府并不是民族统治下的政府，所以它们的质地松散，留有很大的间隙，而正是通过这些间隙，我们的生命在其中得以穿针引线并且留下自己的印记。我敢肯定，在旧政府统治时期，一定有些东西是我们极为厌恶的。但是我们知道，当我们赤脚走在满是砾石的地面上时，我们的双脚会逐渐地适应这反复无常的、不友好的土地；然而，哪怕是最微小的砾石碎块儿在我们的鞋子里找到了立足之地的话，我们都不会忘记，也不会原谅它的入侵。这些鞋子就是民族统治下的政府——它紧箍着我们的双脚，它以一种包裹紧密的系统控制着我们的步伐——在这个系统里面，我们双脚只能获得最低限度的自由以做出调整。因此，当你做出统计数据，拿我们的双脚在先前的政府统治时期所遭遇的砾石数量和在现政府统治下所遇到的少许的砾石碎块儿的数量进行比较的时候，这些数据其实并不能说明问题。因为问题的关键并不在于外在障碍物数量的多少，而在于面对这些障碍物时人们所感到的、无能为力的程度的深浅。这种对于自由的限制是一种更为根本性的罪恶。这并非由于它的数量而是由于它的本质。于是我们不得不承认这样一个看上去似是而非的说法：当西方的精神在自由的旗帜下阔步前进的时候，西方的民族却锻造出了人类历史上史无前例的、组织的钢铁链条——它最冷酷无情，也最牢不可破。

当印度人民还未陷于这种组织的统治之下时，变化的弹性是足够大的，它足以让有力量、有精神的人们感觉到他们能够将自己的命运掌握在自己手中。那时，人们从不缺少对于突发事件的期待，统治者和被统治者双方都拥有更为自由的想象力，而这想象力则对历史进程产生了影响。那时，我们所面对的未来并不是一道死气沉沉的、白色的花岗岩所砌成的围墙——它永远地阻断了我们显示并且增长自己的力量，它之所以给我们带来绝望，是因为，我们的力量正在由于科学的麻醉作用而从其根基上变得萎缩退化。每一个非民族的个人都在一个整体民族的控制之下，而这个民族如同机器一般，时时刻刻都保持着警觉，它不会像人一样疏忽大意或是区别对待。只要轻轻地按下它的按钮，这个怪物组织就会立刻启动，而它那双丑陋的、充满好奇心的大眼睛可以让广大的、被统治的人民群众中的任何一个个人都无处藏身。只要稍微转动一下它的螺丝钉，哪怕只有一丝一毫，它对所有人，包括男人、女人和儿童的控制就会收紧，达到令其窒息的程度；而这些人们想要从自己的国家，甚至于从任何其他的国家中逃离出来都是不可想象的。

在持续、巨大、非人性的力量对人性的至死重压下，现代世界正在痛苦地呻吟着。不仅仅是被压迫的种族，你们这些生活在幻觉中的、自以为是自由的人们，每天都在牺牲掉你们的自由和人性以向民族主义的偶像献祭。你们生活在弥漫着浓浓的、乌烟瘴气的世界里，这里面充斥了怀疑、贪婪和恐惧。

我曾经在日本看到，全体人民都自愿地将思想和自由交给他们的政府，听由其摆布。他们的政府通过各种各样的教育机构规范他们的思想，制造他们的感官，当有迹象表明他们正在倾向于某种精神生活的时候，它就会充满怀疑地警觉起来，将他们领上一条狭窄的道路——不是一条通向真理的道路，而是一条使得他们能够按照它所制定的方案紧密地团结在一起的道路。日本人民愉快地、自豪地接受了这种四处弥漫的精神枷锁，因为，他们焦躁地渴望着自己变身为一台叫作民族的权力的机器，并且在追名逐利的集体活动中与其他机器同流合污。

当我们询问他们这样做的原因是什么的时候，刚刚拜倒在民族主义旗下的狂热的追随者这样回答道：“只要民族在这个世界上蔓延滋生，我们就不可能自由地将我们自己的人性提得更高。我们必须利用自己所拥有的所有本领，通过在最大程度上变得邪恶的方式来对抗邪恶。因为在当今世界上，唯一可能的手足情谊就是与流氓无赖一起沆瀣一气，狼狈为奸。”日本和俄国所结成的兄弟般的友爱关系最近刚刚在日本得到了大张旗鼓的欢呼庆祝。这种友谊并非来自于基督教或是佛教精神的复兴；相反，它是建立在一种现代的、信仰的基础之上的关系——它相信只有彼此之间进行流血的恐吓才能使双方各自变得更安全。没错，我们必须承认这些事实是当今世界上民族的事实；而民族所笃信的唯一道德就是世界上所有的民族都应当竭尽他们的物质、道德和精神资源，以便在权力斗争的竞赛中击败对方。古代的时候，斯巴达千方百计地使自己变得强大；她通过丧失自己的人性达到了这一目的，然而最终，却还是在人性的丧失中死去。

但是，现在的时代正在由于道义的衰微而变得痛苦不堪，而这种道义的衰微不仅仅局限于那些被奴役的种族；对于另外一些种族而言，由于他们被蒙在鼓里，相信自己是自由的，所以这种在隐秘和自愿中所遭受到的伤害则更加严重。因此，了解到这一情况，我们并未感到丝毫的安慰。你们可以自由地选择以更高的人生理想作为筹码来换取利益和权力，而我要将你们留在自己的精神废墟旁边，好好思考一下你们所得到的繁荣昌盛到底为何物。但是，当你们将全体人民自我扩张的本能都组织起来，并使其登峰造极，而自鸣得意的时候，难道你们就永远都不会为此行径受到惩罚吗？我要问问你们：在人类的历史上，在它最黑暗的时期，有过什么样的灾难可以像这种可怕的民族一样，将其毒牙深深地嵌入到世界裸露的肌体之中，并且每时每刻都紧咬牙关，毫不松懈呢？

你们，西方的人们，你们制造出了这种怪胎，你们能想象得出来，在这个人类受苦受难的，鬼魅横行的，由可怕的抽象的人类组织所主宰的世界上凄凉的绝望吗？你们能设身处地地为那些非民族主义国家的人民想一想吗？他们似乎是命中注定要接受对于他们自己人性的永恒诅咒。他们不仅仅要受到持续的、人性的摧残，而且还要高声地为一台机器设备大唱赞歌，歌颂它在无休止的、假冒天意的拙劣表演中所显示出的仁慈。

你们不曾见过吗？自从民族之肇始，它所带来的如同妖魔鬼怪一般的恐怖便让整个世界为之颤抖。哪里有黑暗的角落，哪里可能就会有其隐秘的恶毒；而人们则生活在永远的不信任之中，只恨自己后背没有再多长出一双眼睛。每一个脚步声，每一个邻里做出动作时所发出的沙沙声，都会将恐惧的战栗传遍四方。这种恐惧孕育了所有人性之中最卑鄙可耻的东西。它使得人们几乎是公开地对残忍的暴行不以为耻。聪明的谎言变成了自我麻醉的工具。神圣的誓言则变成了一出闹剧——因为其神圣而引人发笑。民族，尽管它强大有力、繁荣昌盛，尽管它旌旗招展、赞歌飘扬，尽管它在教堂里念诵着亵渎神明的祷告，尽管它装腔作势的文学为其爱国主义大肆吹捧，也不可能掩盖这样一个事实——民族本身就是其最大的罪恶，它所采取的所有预防措施都是与其自身相对立的；而且，这个世界上每诞生一个新的民族都会在其他民族的心目中产生新的恐惧。它的唯一愿望就是利用世界上其他国家的衰微，就像某些依靠被麻痹的猎物的肉为食的昆虫一样，让那些弱国苟延残喘，继续存活下去，以便为自己提供营养丰富的美味佳肴。因此，它乐意将自己有毒的汁液注射到其他活着的、无害的、非民族的要害器官当中去。为了这一目的，民族已经并且还在占据着亚洲最最富饶的牧场。伟大的中国，她富有古代的智慧和社会伦理，她勤劳而且自制，现在就像是一头鲸鱼一样，在民族的心中唤起了强取豪夺的渴望。她颤抖的身体已经被自诩为一贯正确的，科学而自私的民族所投下的几柄鱼叉扎中。而就当她可怜巴巴地试图甩掉自己的人性传统和社会理想，并且竭尽最后一点点资源想要把自己训练成现代的、高效的国家的时候，民族却处处作梗，横加阻挠。它用经济的绳索将中国绑紧，然后试图将她拖上岸并且切成碎片，接下来便公然地举办向上帝感恩的祈祷仪式，感谢他对于现存罪恶的帮扶以及对于可能产生的罪恶的消灭。为了这一切，民族一直在讨要着历史的垂青，祈盼着它的剥削活动能够天长地久；它命令自己的唱诗班到世界各地去演奏，宣扬自己是社会精华，是人类之花，是上帝竭尽全力撒向非民族国家裸露着的脑壳的祝福。

我知道你们的建议是什么。你们会说：你们也发展成为一个民族吧，这样就可以抵抗它的侵犯了。不过，这算得上是真正的，一个人对另外一个人提出的建议吗？这样做难道是必须的吗？我宁可相信你们提出这样的建议：在处理同他人的关系时要更友好、更公正、更真诚；要控制你的贪欲，要生活得淳朴而健康，还要让你对人性中神圣之物的认识更加完美，等等。但是你们会说，对我们自己来说，最有价值的东西不是灵魂而是那台机器；人类的得救所依赖的是他能否将自己训练得完全适合机器轮子和计数轮旋转时的固定节奏；在政治的、永不停息的斗牛场上，机器必须与机器竞争，民族必须与民族对立——难道你们一定要这样认为吗？

你们会说：基于对恐惧的共识，这些机器会达成彼此互不侵犯的协议。但是，这样一个蒸汽锅炉之间所结成的同盟会向你展示一个灵魂，一个拥有自己良知和上帝的灵魂吗？而在世界上其他更多的，没有恐惧可以约束到你们的地方，又会发生什么事呢？无论那些非民族主义的国家现在多么地安全，没有受到熔炉、铁锤和螺丝刀的整治，这也不过是列强间彼此猜忌的结果而已。但是，当列强不再是无数单独的机器，而是结合在一起，成为一个贪婪的、商业的或是政治的集体组织的时候，其他的那些国家，他们享受过生活也遭受过痛苦，曾经爱过也曾经祈祷过，曾经深刻地思考过也曾经任劳任怨地工作过，而他们唯一的过错就是没有像那些机器一样组织起来，他们还会拥有哪怕是最为渺茫的希望吗？

但是你们会说：“这没关系，不适者必失败——他们会死掉，这就是科学。”

不，错了。为了你们自己的得救，我要说，他们要活下去，这才是真理。我这样说是需要极大的勇气的，但是我敢断言，人类的世界是道德的世界，这并不是因为我们盲目地这样相信，而是因为真理就是如此，忽视这一点就会给我们带来危险。而且，人类的这种道德本性不应以方便为由被分割保存。你们不应以保护性的关税壁垒将道德仅仅局限在国内消费，而对外则在自由贸易的许可证下让它随意变通。

这一真理你们还没有认识到吗？残酷的战争已经将其魔爪伸入到欧洲的内脏；而在欧洲的战场上，她囤积的财富正在化为灰烬，她的人性正在片片散落。你们会惊奇地问道：她到底做了什么会落得如此下场？问题的答案是，西方一直以来都在系统地石化其道德本性，目的是为她庞大而高效的组织奠定坚实的基础。她一直以来都在为了这个组织的强大而让每个个人都忍饥挨饿。

在你们欧洲中世纪的时候，人们朴素而自然，他们带着强烈的激情和愿望，试图找到将灵魂与肉体的冲突相调和的办法。在贯穿欧洲的充满青春活力的动荡岁月中，无论是世俗的还是精神的力量都对她的本性施加了巨大的影响，并且为其塑造了具有完整性的道德人格。欧洲伟大的人性正是要归功于那一时期的磨练——对于其人性完整性的磨练。

接下来便是理智的时代、科学的时代。我们都知道理智是非人性的。我们的生命和心灵是合二为一的，但是我们的头脑却可以从人格中分离出去，只有它可以在思想的世界里自由地游移。我们的理智是一位苦行的修道者，它不穿衣服，不吃食物，不睡觉，没有愿望，感觉不到爱或是恨或是对于人性弱点的怜悯，它只是无动于衷地通过生活的变迁兴衰进行推理。它对所有事物都刨根问底，因为它与这些事物本身毫无个人感情的瓜葛。语法专家会径直走过整篇诗歌，毫无障碍地直奔单词的词根，因为他想要探寻的不是诗歌的真相，而是词汇法则。一旦他发现了这一法则，他就可以教会人们如何掌握单词。这是一种力量——它可以满足某种特殊的用途，满足人类的某些特定的需要。

现实的存在就是某个事物的各个组成部分在整体的平衡中所表现出来的和谐。你打破了这种和谐，手里攥着彼此斗争的游离的原子，这一事物也就失去了意义。那些垂涎权力的人们试图掌握这些原始的、斗争的元素，并且通过某些狭窄的渠道将它们强行塞进某个装置，以便让它们为人类的某些特定需要提供暴力的服务。

人类需要的满足事关重大。这可以让他获得在物质世界行动的自由。它可以让他在更为广阔的时间和空间范围内获得利益，让他在更短的时间内完成任务，并且以压倒性的优势占据更大的空间。因此，他便可以轻而易举地超越那些生活在节奏缓慢，且空间没有得到充分利用的世界里的人们。

这种权力前进的步伐越走越快。而且，因为它是从人类整体中分离出来的一部分，所以它不久就超越了人类的整体。有道德的人类落在了后面，因为它不得不应付整个现实的存在，而不仅仅是没有人性的、抽象的事物法则。

于是人类理智和物质的力量远远超过了道德的力量，就像是一头形态夸张的长颈鹿一样，脑袋陡然间竖起，距离身体的其他部分有数英里远，结果使得正常的联系也无法进行。这个贪婪的脑袋拥有巨大的牙齿，一直在用力地咀嚼世界上长得最高的树叶，然而它所获得的营养物质要花太久的时间才能到达它的消化器官，而它的心脏正在由于缺血而痛苦不堪。对于当今人类本性中的不和谐，西方似乎一直在美滋滋地毫无察觉。它所有注意力都被其巨大无比的物质成功引向了对自己肥硕身材的洋洋得意之中。伴随着铁路线无休止的延伸给自己带来的好运气，西方逻辑中的乐观主义精神也继续向前直达永远。如果有谁认为所有的明天不过是今天的翻版，不过是二十四个小时不断的累加，那么就未免有点太过浅薄了。因为他没有注意到，在人类不断膨胀的仓库和他空虚饥饿的人性之间的裂痕正在日益扩大。逻辑并不清楚，在无尽的财富和优越的物质条件的最底层，用来恢复道德世界之平衡的地震正在酝酿当中；总有一天，精神空虚的海湾会将永远眷恋着尘世浮华的仓库拽进自己无底的深渊。

一个完整的人并不体现在他的力量上，而是体现在他的完善上。因此，要想让一个人仅仅获得力量，你就必须尽量地缩小他的灵魂。当我们具有完整的人性的时候，我们是不会彼此掐对方的喉咙的；我们社会生活的本能，我们道德理想的传统不允许我们这样做。如果你想让我去杀人，那么首先你必须通过能使我的意志丧失、思想麻木、行动机械的训练来破坏我的完整人性，然后那种与人类真理没有丝毫关系，因此很容易变得野蛮和机械的，抽象的毁灭力量就会从我已经解体的、复杂的人性当中释放出来了。将人类从他的自然环境中带走，将他带离充实的集体生活，以及在这生活中他与美、爱和社会责任等等建立起的活生生的联系，这样，你就会将他转变成为许多机器的碎片，从而生产出大量的财富。将树木变为柴火，它就会为你而燃烧，但是自此就永远都不会再开出生命的花朵，结出生命的果实了。

这种非人化的过程在商业和政治领域内一直在进行着。这种完全发展成熟的，拥有巨大力量和惊人胃口的机械，在机械能量的长期阵痛中分娩降生了，而西方已经将其命名为民族。就像我之前曾经暗示过的，因为它具有的抽象的品质，它轻而易举地就跑在了完善的、有道德的人类前头。而且，由于它拥有一颗恶灵的心脏以及一个机器人才有的冷酷的完美，所以，它正在制造的灾难让年轻的月球上的火山喷发也自愧弗如。结果是，人与人之间的怀疑就像是荨麻身上的刺毛一样刺痛着这个文明的四肢。每个国家都在向其他国家满是污泥的水底投下间谍的罗网，希望获取他们的秘密——那些在外交的烂泥的深处酝酿着的背信弃义的秘密。而民族的所谓秘密，不外乎是在其腐烂的深处所从事的拐骗、谋杀、背叛以及所有丑陋罪行的地下交易。因为每一个民族都有它自己的盗窃、撒谎和背信弃义的历史，所以国际间的怀疑和嫉妒就会大行其道，而且国际间的鲜廉寡耻就会达到滑稽可笑的程度。民族伸张正义的风笛会根据时间的不同和外交联盟的重新组合而改变调门，所以我们只能将其作为政治音乐厅的另外一种表演形式来欣赏。

我刚刚到访过日本。在那里，我劝告这个新生的民族要站在更高的人类理想的立场上，永远不要效仿西方将民族主义有组织的自私自利奉为圭臬，永远不要因为自己邻国的衰弱而幸灾乐祸，永远不要不择手段地对付弱国，即便是如此举动极为卑鄙却可以免受惩罚，而同时却将自己带着人性光辉的右脸转向那些有能力给它一拳的国家，为的是得到它们赞赏的亲吻。有些报纸以它们富有诗意为由表扬了我的言论，而同时不忘揶揄我，说我的言论是失败民族的诗歌。我觉得它们说得对。日本已经在一所现代的学校里学会了如何变得强大。学习结束了，而她必须要享受课程所带来的收获。西方用她隆隆的炮声在日本的大门口这样说道：民族，出现吧——于是一个民族就出现了。而既然它已经存在了，那么为什么你们不能发自内心地感到纯净的喜悦并且为它祝福呢？为什么我在英国的报纸上看到，当日本吹嘘她自己的文明有多么优越的时候你们却恶语相加呢？要知道，几个世纪以来，英国以及其他的民族一直在像日本这样恬不知耻地吹嘘自己的文明啊。这就是因为自私自利的理想主义必须依靠持续剂量的自我褒扬来维持自己的陶醉状态。但是当它们看到其他民族与自己一样的，似乎是再自然和无害不过的不道德行为时，就会感到震惊和愤怒。所以，当你们看到按照你们自身形象塑造出来，并且开始为自己的民族大声聒噪的、民族主义的日本的时候，你们就摇摇头说，这样做可不好。这难道不就是你们在这里提高了嗓门，呼吁做好准备，来应付又一个能够带来更大伤害的罪恶力量的原因之一吗？日本提出抗议说，她拥有武士道精神，她永远都不会背叛自己心怀感激的美国。但是你们很难相信她的说辞，因为民族的智慧并不在于对人性的信仰，而是在于对人性的完全不信任。你们自言自语道，我们所要对付的不是拥有武士道的日本，不是拥有道德理想的日本，而是作为民族的日本；而只有当两个民族拥有共同的利益，或是至少他们利益不相冲突的时候，他们才能彼此信任对方。事实上，你们的本能告诉自己，当另外一个民族出现在民族的竞技场上时，就说明与人类崇高理想格格不入的罪恶又一次得到了壮大，并且它的成功证明了厚颜无耻是通向繁荣昌盛的道路，而善良只适合于弱者，是上帝留给失败者的唯一慰藉。

没错，这就是民族的逻辑。它永远都不会倾听真理和善良的声音。它会继续跳这种道德败坏的圆圈舞，将钢铁与钢铁连接，机器与机器连接，将所有朴素的信仰和人类生活理想的甜蜜花朵都踩在自己脚下加以蹂躏。

但是我们自欺欺人地认为，现代的人类比以往任何时候都要站得靠前。这种自我欺骗的原因在于，人类现在可以得到比以往更为丰富的生活必需品，而他所患的疾病也能得到更为有效的治疗。但是造成所有这些的主要原因并不是道德的贡献，而要归功于智慧的力量。它数量巨大，但是它源自表面且只在表面铺开。知识和效率在其外在的影响方面显得强大而有力，但是它们只是人类的奴仆，而非人类自身。它们的服务就像是宾馆里所提供的服务，尽管周到详尽，却缺乏地主之谊；它更多的是提供方便而不是热情好客。

因此我们不要忘了，散布在各个领域内的科学组织正在增强的是我们的力量，而不是我们的人性。随着我们力量的增长，民族的自我崇拜占据了支配的地位，每个个人都自愿地允许民族像骑驴那样骑在我们自己的身上；于是便出现了这种具有灾难性后果的怪现象：个人奉献出所有的祭品来崇拜一个神，而这个神却通常在道德方面比他还要低级。如果这个神像每个个人那样真实存在的话，这种情况是不大可能出现的。

下面我再解释一下这一点。在印度的有些地方，寡妇们每隔两周都会有一天不吃不喝，这被看作是一种极为虔诚的举动。尽管人们的本性并非这样残忍，此种行为还是会经常导致残忍、无意义和不人道的结果。然而，这种非真实的、抽象的虔诚极大地削弱了人们的道德感，这就像是一个不会无端地伤害一只动物的人，当他给自己的感觉器官灌下抽象的、“运动”的汤药的时候，就会使得大量无辜的动物遭受可怕的痛苦。因为这些抽象的观念来自于我们的理智，它们属于逻辑的范畴，所以，它们能够轻易地让个人在其薄雾中踪迹难寻。

民族的观念是人类发明的最为强有力的麻醉剂之一。在它乌烟瘴气的影响下，整个民族，在对民族的道德扭曲全然无知的情况下，会将其最恶毒的、利己主义的、系统的行动纲领付诸实施——而事实上，如果有谁指出了这一点，他反而会招致来自持有这种民族主义观念之人们的危险的愤恨。

但是，这种情况会无限期地持续，不断地在我们人类的天性上制造出大面积的道德感知力的荒原吗？它会永远都逃脱报应吗？难道这种机械组织的巨大力量会没有任何限制，而它在同这个世界的斗争中，不会因为自己的可怕力量和速度而将自身更为彻底地摧毁吗？你相信罪恶可以通过与同其他罪恶的竞争来实现永远的相互制约吗？你相信费尽心机的讨论就可以将魔鬼锁在彼此妥协的临时牢笼里吗？

这场爆发在民族间的欧洲战争就是一种报应。人类一定不要在自己的生活中堆满了物质的东西而不是心灵，堆满了制度和政策而不是活的人际关系。现在是时候了，为了整个愤怒的世界，欧洲应当充分地认识到，在她自己的身上有一种叫作民族的、可怕而荒谬的东西。

民族依靠残缺的人性而发迹。人类，作为上帝最美好的造物，以好战而贪财的木偶形象被大量地从民族主义的工厂中生产了出来，而他们却对自己如机械一般可怜的完美愚蠢地感到洋洋得意。人类社会变得越来越像一出牵线木偶秀，在高效的牵线装置的操控下，政客们、士兵们、厂商们和官僚们都一一献演。

但是，将自私自利当作神一样来崇拜永远都不可能使其无尽的仇恨和嫉妒、恐惧和虚伪、怀疑和专制自己画上句号。这些妖魔鬼怪会长得身形巨大，却永远都不可能协调发展。这种民族可能会长到你想象不到的肥胖的程度，然而它仍然不是一个活着的躯体，而是一堆钢铁，一团蒸汽，或是一座座办公大楼。它会一直长到自己畸形的外壳再也装不下它那丑陋而肥硕的躯体，于是它便会开始噼啪开裂，急促地喷火冒烟，并且在加农炮的吼叫声中发出濒死的哀鸣。在这场战争中，民族开始了其死亡前的阵痛。突然间，它所有的机械装置都发了疯。它开始跳起了复仇女神的舞蹈，将它自己的四肢打碎并且将它们散落在尘埃中。这是这场虚幻悲剧的最后一幕。

那些对人类怀有信心的人们一定会热切地希望，民族的暴政一定不要恢复其先前的爪牙，恢复其无所不及的铁臂和巨大无比的内腔——里面只有胃而没有心；他们希望人类会摆脱包裹着自己的抽象的含混，并且获得个性的新生。

面纱已经撩起。在这场可怕的战争中，西方已经直面了自己的造物——她曾经将自己的灵魂出卖给它的那个造物。她应该清楚它的真面目了。

在过去，西方从来没有察觉出自己的道德本性正在秘密地、缓慢地腐烂分解。这一过程常常以怀疑主义的教条的形式显现；而更多的时候，它是以更为危险且微妙的形式表现出来——她对这个世界的大部分进行了破坏和侮辱，然而自己却浑然不知。现在她必须清楚，真相已经站在自家门口了。

然后，就会有一些西方的孩子们从这种幻觉，这种建立在自私自利的基础之上的，扭曲的手足之情的奴役之中解放出来；他们将会成为上帝的孩子而不是作为机器的奴仆，因这些机器将灵魂变成了商品，将生命变成了零件，并且以其铁爪刨出了世界的心脏，而与此同时，却对自己的所作所为全然无知。

我们这些一直以来低着头的非民族的国家将会明白，我们所低头相向的这片土地要比用来建造傲慢权力的砖头更为神圣。因为这片肥沃的土地充满了生机、美丽和对神的崇拜。我们要感谢上帝，是他创造了我们，是他让我们挨过寂静的、绝望的黑夜，忍受着傲慢者所施以的凌辱，背负着强大者才有的负担；然而，尽管经历了所有这一切，尽管我们的心灵曾经因为怀疑和恐惧而战栗，我们却从来没有盲目地相信过机器能够给人类带来拯救，相反，我们紧握着对上帝的信仰，紧握着人类灵魂的真谛。我们仍然怀抱着希望，希望当权力羞于占据它的宝座并且乐意为爱让路的时候，希望当黎明为了清洗民族所遗留下的斑斑血迹而沿着人性的大道走来的时候，我们能够受到上帝召唤，召唤我们带上自己的一坛圣水——一坛信仰的圣水——来滋润、净化人类的历史，并且以其喷洒的水滴向几个世纪以来饱受践踏的土地献上祝福，保佑它硕果累累。

注释

〔1〕《奥义书》：一组有关形而上学的论述。它包括大约200篇散文和诗歌，写作年代可追溯到公元前400年左右。

印度的民族主义

我们印度的真正问题不在于政治，而是在于社会。其实这种情况普遍地存在于所有的国家，而非印度所独有。我不相信有什么孤立存在的政治利益。西方的政治支配了西方的理想，而我们印度则正在试图模仿你们。我们必须记住，欧洲文明自然而然地具有政治和经济的侵略性的特点，因为，欧洲的各个民族自其肇始就具有种族的统一性，而欧洲的自然资源对其居民来说又是匮乏的。所以，一方面他们没有内部的混乱，而另一方面则要对付他们强大而贪婪的邻国。于是在他们彼此之间便进行了完美的联合，同时对其他国家采取了警惕、敌意的态度，这便成为了他们解决自己问题的办法。过去，他们组织起来去抢劫；现在，他们秉承同样的精神，组织起来共同剥削整个世界。

但是，印度自有史以来就一直面对着这样的问题——种族问题。每一个民族都一定要弄清楚自己的使命是什么，而我们印度人一定要认识到，当我们要在政治上有所作为的时候，我们就会露出丑态，原因就在于我们还没有能够最终完成上帝下达给我们的旨意。

你们美国也同我们一样，多年以来面对着一直想要设法解决的种族团结问题。在这里很多人问我有关印度的种姓歧视的情况。但是他们向我问起这个事情的时候，总是带有一种优越感。所以，我也想把这个问题稍加修正之后问一问你们美国的批评家们：“你们是怎样对待红种印第安人和黑人的呢？”你们并没有改变对于他们的种族歧视的态度。你们使用了暴力的方法来使自己远离其他种族。所以，在这一问题没有得到解决之前，在这里，在美国，你们就没有权利指责印度。

尽管困难重重，印度还是有所作为的。她试着对种族关系进行了调整，承认了种族间确实存在的、真正的不同之处，并且试图找出各个种族间团结的基础。这个基础来自于我们的圣人，例如那纳克，卡比尔，柴塔尼亚〔1〕，等等，他们倡导印度的各个种族信仰同一个上帝。

在解决我们自己问题的时候，我们同样应当致力于解决世界的问题。印度所经历的一切就是世界现在的样子。整个世界正在科学的帮助下变为一个国家。现在已经是时候了，你们必须要为这个世界找到一个团结的、非政治的基础。如果印度能够给这个世界提交她的解决方案的话，那么这将是对于全体人类的贡献。这世界上只有一部历史，那就是人类的历史。所有国家的历史不过是这部历史当中的各个章节而已。我们在印度愿意为这一伟大的事业受苦受难。

每个人都会爱他自己。因此，他残忍的本能会使得他为了追逐单纯的个人私利而与其他人争斗。但是同时人类还拥有更高级的同情和互助的本能。那些缺乏这一更高级别的道德力量的人们将不能同其他人结为伙伴的关系，所以他们注定会灭亡或生活在低级的状态。只有那些拥有这种强烈合作精神的民族才会生存下来并且创造出文明。所以我们发现，自有史以来，人类就不得不在彼此斗争和联合之间作出选择，在满足他们自己私欲和满足所有人共同利益之间作出选择。

在人类历史的早期，每个国家都受到地理疆域和交流手段的局限，所以这个问题相对来说并不突出，因为人类在他们各自独立的区域里发展他们对于团结的理解就已经足够了。那时候，他们自己之间联合起来与其他人斗争。但是，他们真正的伟大之处正是在于这种联合起来的道德精神，而正是这种精神塑造了他们的艺术、科学和宗教。那时候，人类所关注的最重要的一个事情就是某个特定种族的成员彼此之间的密切接触。那些通过他们更崇高的本性而真正做到了这种密切接触的种族会在人类的历史上留下他们的印记。

当今时代最重要的事情就是人类的不同种族已经聚集在了一起。我们又一次地面临着两个选择：不同的族群是继续彼此间的争斗，还是找出某些和解和互助的真正基础；不同的族群之间是继续无休止的竞争，还是展开彼此间的合作。

我会毫不犹豫地说，那些拥有爱的道德力量和团结精神的人们，那些对外来人抱有最少的敌意并且具有设身处地为他人着想的同情心的人们，会在我们当今这个时代占据永久的位置，成为最适应这个时代的人；而那些不断地发展自己与外来人为敌的，具有偏狭的本能的人将会被淘汰出局。因为这就是我们所面临的问题，而我们不得不借助更为崇高的本性来解决它，从而证明我们的人性。那些伤害他人并且避免被他人所伤害的庞大组织，那些靠损人利己而发财的庞大组织，它们是不会帮助我们的。恰恰相反，由于它们的千钧重力、巨额成本，以及对人类活力的抑制，它们会严重地阻碍我们在一个更为崇高的文明所提供的更为广大的生活空间中获得自由。

在民族的演变过程中兄弟友谊的道德文化受到了地理边界的限制，因为那时候这些边界是真实存在的。现在这些边界已经成为想象中的传统界限，而不具备真正的阻隔性质。所以现在人类的道德本性一定要严肃地对待这种情况，否则它将会有灭顶之灾。这种环境改变所造成的第一个冲动是人类卑鄙的贪婪和残忍的仇恨的膨胀。如果这种情况无限期地持续下去，军事力量继续壮大到难以想象的荒谬程度，机器和仓库以它们的尘灰、烟雾和丑陋覆盖了这个美丽的地球的话，那么这世界终将会在自杀式的熊熊烈焰中走向灭亡。因此，人类将不得不竭尽其爱的全力，擦亮他的眼睛，再一次做出巨大的道德修正；这种道德修正将在整个人类世界中进行，而不仅仅局限于少数的几个民族。生活在当今时代的每个人都接到了这样的召唤：要为迎接新时代的曙光作好自身和周边环境的准备，因为在新的时代里人们将会在全体人类的精神团结中发现自己的灵魂。

如果西方想要从这些低矮斜坡的混乱中挣扎出来，爬上人类精神的制高点的话，那么我想，美国就要肩负起其特殊的使命，完成这一上帝和人类的愿望。你们的国家充满了期待，希望能够推陈出新。欧洲有其敏锐的思维习惯和约定俗成的社会习俗，但是美国还没有定型。我知道美国很少受到过去传统的束缚，而且我意识到实验主义是美国年轻的标志。美国的荣耀在于未来而不是过去；而且，如果谁具有洞悉未来的本领的话，那么他一定会爱上未来的美国。

美国注定要向东方证明西方文明的正当性。欧洲已经对人性失去了信心，已经变得狐疑而病弱。而另一方面，美国则并不悲观失望或是麻木不仁。作为一个民族你们知道，没有最好只有更好，而你们进步的动力就来自于对这一点的认知。有一些习惯不光是被动的，同时还是高傲的和富于侵略性的。它们不仅仅像是一堵围墙，而更像是带刺儿的荨麻围成的树篱。欧洲多年以来一直都在培育着这种习惯的树篱，直到它们浓密地、茁壮地、高高地将欧洲围拢起来。欧洲对于自己传统的自豪感已经扎根在了她的心灵深处。我并不认为这种自豪感是毫无道理的。但是，任何一种形式的傲慢都会最终导致愚昧无知。像所有人造的兴奋剂一样，傲慢的最初影响只是一种反应水平的提升；而接下来，随着掺加剂量的增大，就会产生一种误导性的狂喜。欧洲的傲慢，在其外表和内在的习惯上面，都在逐渐地变得顽固。她不仅不能忘了自己是西方，而且还会利用每一次机会抛出这一事实，从而羞辱他人。这就是为什么，欧洲变得没有能力将自己最好的东西与东方分享；而与此同时，不能够以正确的态度接受东方已经储藏了多达数百年的智慧。

美国的民族习惯和传统还没有来得及将它们的根须紧紧地束缚住你们自己的心灵。当你们将自己不停漂泊的生活同欧洲固定的传统相比较的时候，你们经常会感到并且抱怨自己所处的劣势，因为欧洲可以将自己的伟大之处放到其历史背景之中最大程度地展现出来。但是在当今这个过渡的时代，当文明的新纪元跨越无限的未来时空向世界上的各个种族吹响其召唤的号角的时候，正是这种毫无挂碍的自由将会让你们响应它的号召，并且实现它的目标——为了这一目标，欧洲曾经开始其旅程，但是却在半路迷失了自我。之所以会如此是因为，欧洲被她自己的傲慢的权力和贪婪的占有所蛊惑，从而误入了歧途。

不仅仅是你们美国人的思维不受习惯的束缚，你们的历史也没有受到任何肮脏的、陈年旧账的羁绊，所以你们美国适合于扛起未来文明大旗的重任。所有欧洲伟大的民族都在世界的其他地方造下罪孽。这使得它们的同情心在道德和理智方面都受到了破坏，而这种同情心是理解其他与己不同的种族所必需的。英国人永远都不会真正地理解印度，因为他们在考虑有关印度的问题时并非没有私利。如果将英国同德国或法国进行比较的话，你就会发现，在英国，带着一定程度的同情心的洞察力或是一丝不苟的精神对印度的文学和哲学进行研究的学者是最少的。在当两国的关系并不正常，而且是建立在民族的自私和傲慢的基础之上的时候，这种冷漠和蔑视的态度就再自然不过了。但是你们美国的历史是没有私利的历史，这就是为什么你们能够帮助日本学习西方文明，这就是为什么中国在其最黑暗、最危险的时期对你们却抱有最大的信赖。事实上，你们肩负着一个伟大未来的全部责任，因为你们没有受到贪婪吝啬的过去历史的羁绊。因此，在世界上所有的国家当中，美国必须清醒地认识到这一未来；她一定要擦亮眼睛，在青春活力的鼓舞下对人类充满信心。

美国和印度之间存在着共同之处——两个国家都要将各个不同的种族团结在一起。

在印度，我们一直以来都在试图找到所有种族的某些共同之处，而这些共同之处将是各个种族真正团结的明证。仅仅将政治或是经济作为种族团结的基础是不够的。有思想、有能力的人们会找到种族团结的精神基础，并且实现这一精神上的团结，宣扬这一精神上的团结。

印度从来都没有过真正意义上的民族主义观念。尽管从孩提时代开始，我就被灌输以“对于民族的崇拜要好于对于上帝和人性的敬畏”的思想，可是我还是相信自己已经摆脱了这种说教的桎梏；而且我深信不疑的是，通过与“国家要比人类的理想更为伟大的说教”的斗争，我的同胞们会真正地收获他们的印度。

目前，受过教育的印度人正试图从历史当中吸取某些与我们祖先的经验教训截然相反的经验教训。事实上，东方正在努力学习它的历史——一个并非是它自己生活写照的历史。例如，日本认为她正在靠采用西方的方法而变得强大；但是，当她用光了自己祖上的遗产之后，所剩下的便仅仅是从西方文明那里借来的武器。她并没有从自身内部得到发展。

欧洲有自己的过去。因此欧洲的力量来自于她的历史。我们印度一定要下定决心，不能从其他民族那里借来他们的历史，而且，如果我们割断了自己的历史那就等同于自杀。当你们借来本不属于自己生活的东西的时候，这些东西就会毁了你们的生活。

因此，我相信，与西方文明在它自己的运动场上展开竞争对于印度来说毫无益处。但是，如果我们不顾外界的污言秽语，坚持走自己的路的话，我们就会收获颇丰。

有一些课程会给我们传递信息或是为了提高理智而训练我们的头脑。这些课程简单易学，便于利用。但是还有其他的课程会影响到我们的深层本性并且改变我们的人生轨迹。在我们学习这些课程并且以我们自己的遗产作为代价为此买单之前，我们一定要暂停并且好好考虑一下。在人类历史上的某些年代，人们发明了烟花爆竹，并且以其力量和动感让我们头晕目眩。这些烟花爆竹不仅仅嘲笑我们家里朴素的灯盏，而且嘲笑永恒的星辰。但是我们不要由于这种刺激就草率地决定舍弃我们的灯盏。我们要耐心地忍受暂时的侮辱，并且意识到它们尽管灿烂却不持久，因为这种极端的爆炸在产生力量的同时又让它筋疲力尽。与它们的收获和产出相较而言，这些烟花爆竹所耗费的能量和物质是致命的。

总之，我们的理想是在我们自己的历史当中演化而来的。即便是我们只希望将自己的理想制成拙劣的烟花爆竹也改变不了这一点，因为构成我们理想的材料与你们的材料是不同的，而它们的道德目的也是不同的。如果我们下定决心要不惜一切代价买进政治上的民族主义的话，那么其荒唐可笑的程度就如同瑞士为了自己的生存而野心勃勃地建造一支强大的、足以比肩英国的海军一样。我们所犯的错误就在于，我们认为人类想要变得伟大，其途径只有一条——就是这条以其极端傲慢的姿态摆在我们面前的痛苦之路。

我们必须确定自己拥有未来，而且这一未来属于那些拥有丰富的道德理想而不仅仅是拥有物质财富的人。人类拥有这样的特权：他为了收获果实而工作，而这些果实并非触手可及；他调整自己的生活不是为了与某些眼下成功的范例，甚至于不是与他自己谨小慎微的、胸无大志的过去保持被动的一致，而是要与无限的、心中怀抱着的、最最期待的理想未来相向而行。

我们必须承认西方来到印度是命中注定的。然而一定要有人向西方展示东方，并且说服西方相信东方为人类的文明史作出了贡献。印度不是西方的乞丐。即便是西方这样认为，我也不赞成印度应当摆脱所有西方的文明并且在我们的独立中与世隔绝。我们应当紧密相连。如果上帝让英国成为我们沟通的、紧密相连的渠道的话，那么我愿意以自己最大的谦恭接受这一事实。我对于人类的本性怀有极大的信心，而且我认为西方将会发现什么才是她真正的使命。当我意识到西方文明正在背叛人们对它的信任，阻挠实现自己的初衷的时候，我对它进行了严厉的批评。西方一定不要为了她的私利而在这个世界上引起祸端；而是要通过对无知者施以教化，对弱者给予帮助，让他们获得足够的力量，从而抵抗她的侵略方式，将自身从最大的、强大者容易遭遇的险境中拯救出来。而且，西方一定不要将物质主义作为最终追求的目标，而是要意识到，她所提供的服务是要将精神从物质的暴政下解放出来。

我并非反对某个特定的民族，而是反对所有民族的共同理念。那么什么是民族呢？

民族是指一国的全体人民以一个有组织的力量呈现出来的样子。这个组织不停地致力于使其全体成员变得更强大、更高效。但是，在做出这种为了变得强大和高效的努力之后，人类自我牺牲和富于创造性的更高本性的力量就会消耗殆尽。之所以如此是因为，人类牺牲的力量被从它终极的、道德的目标上转移到了对于这个机械的、组织的维护上来。然而在这个过程中，因为他拥有了所有道德提升的满足感，所以对于人性来说变得极度危险。当人类能够将自己的责任转化到这台由他的理智，而非由他完全的道德人格所创造出来的机器之上的时候，他便会感到自己从良知的规范之下解脱了出来。通过这台机器，热爱自由的民族让奴隶制在这个世界上的广大地区永久地持续，而他们却因为履行了自己的职责而骄傲地感到心安理得；那些生来正直的人们在其行动和思想上变得残忍而不公，而同时他们却感到自己是在帮助这个世界得到其应有的惩罚；那些诚实的人们会为了自我的膨胀而继续盲目地剥夺其他人的人权，而与此同时却辱骂那些受害者，说他们罪有应得。我们在自己的生活中见到过，即便是小的商业和行业组织也会在本性并不坏的人们身上产生感情的冷漠；而且我们完全可以想象得出来，它在这个所有民族都在疯狂地组织起来捞取财富和权力的世界上引起了多么大的道德浩劫。

民族主义是一个巨大的威胁。它是一种独特的东西，并且已经在印度的麻烦堆中潜藏了多年。因为我们已经被一个在其态度上具有严格政治性的民族统治、控制了多年，所以，尽管我们继承了过去的遗产，我们还是试图在自己的身上发展出一种对于自己最终政治命运的信仰。

印度有不同的政党，它们有不同的理想。其中一些政党正在为政治独立而斗争。而另外一些政党则认为争取政治独立还为时尚早。它们认为印度应当取得与英国其他殖民地一样的权利，并且希望印度尽量争取自治。

在印度的政治纷争的早期历史当中，并不存在像今天这样的政党间的冲突。那时候有一个政党叫作印度国大党〔2〕；它并没有真正的纲领。他们会对当局发一些牢骚或是提出抗议，期望他们予以改正。他们希望在地方议会中获得更大的代表权，在市政府中得到更多的自由。他们要的东西都很琐碎，然而却缺乏建设性的理想。因此我对他们的方法不感兴趣。我深信，印度最需要的是来自自身的建设性的工作。尽管在这种工作中，我们每前进一步所取得的道义上的胜利，都是在严酷的迫害下，以失败和痛苦为代价换来的，然而，我们仍然要甘冒所有的风险，继续履行我们本应履行的职责。我们必须向高高在上的统治者表明，我们拥有道德的力量，拥有为真理而受难的力量。如果我们无所证明我们就只有乞讨。如果我们希望得到的东西即刻就能得到满足的话，那么反而是有害的。我曾经反复地告诉过我的同胞们，要团结起来，一起为了弘扬我们自我牺牲的精神去创造机会，而不要一同去乞讨。

然而，国大党失去了权力，因为人们不久就意识到他们所采取的残缺的政策是徒劳无益的。于是国大党分裂了〔3〕，出现了极端主义分子。他们主张行动上的独立，并且抛弃乞讨的方法——他们认为这种乞讨的方法是让一个人摆脱对自己国家的责任的最简便易行的方法。他们的理想是以西方的历史为基础的。他们并不关心印度存在的特殊问题。他们不承认这样一个显而易见的事实：我们的社会组织当中的某些因素使得印度人民难以与外国人相抗衡。如果出于某种原因，英国被赶走了，那么我们将会怎么办呢？我们不过是会沦为其他民族的牺牲品而已。同样的社会问题仍将持续。我们印度人民不得不考虑的是这样一个问题：将那些产生缺少自尊并且完全依赖统治者的社会习俗和理念摈弃掉——这种问题完全是由于印度的种姓制度的控制，以及盲目、懒惰地依赖传统的权威性的习惯所造成的，而这些传统是与当今时代难以协调的时代错误。

我再一次地提醒你们注意印度无法回避的困难和她为了克服这些困难而进行的斗争。印度的问题就是世界问题的缩影。印度的疆域太过广大，种族太过多样。她相当于很多的国家聚集在了一个地理区域内。她与欧洲的情况恰恰相反；在那里，就相当于一个国家分裂成了多个国家。因此，欧洲在其文化和成长壮大方面不仅得益于其一国的优势，而且得益于其多国的力量。反观印度，由于她生来具有多样性，而后天又成为一个国家，所以她自始至终都蒙受其松散的多样性和衰弱的一致性所带来的痛苦。真正的一致性就如同一只圆球；它滚动起来，很容易地携带其自身的负荷。但是多样性就像是一个有很多棱角的物体，要想推拉它就要费尽全力。应当说明的是，印度的这种多样性并非她自身的创造，而是从她历史的开端就不得不接受的一个事实。在美国和澳大利亚，欧洲人几乎是通过消灭原住民的方式让问题得到了简化。即便是在当今时代，我们同样能看到种族灭绝的幽灵在徘徊——它冷淡地将外国人拒之门外，而这样做的人们自己在其所霸占的这片土地上，其实就是外国人。而印度自其肇始就容忍了种族的多样性，而且这种包容的精神贯穿了她的整个历史。

印度的种姓制度就是这种包容精神的产物。因为，她一直以来就做着各种实验，希望创造出一种能将不同的民族结合在一起的社会团结，而与此同时，各个民族又能充分地享受、保有自己独特性的自由。所以这种纽带一直保持尽可能的松散，而同时又在环境的允许下保持尽可能的紧密。这就产生了一种类似于社会同盟的合众国的东西，她的常见名称就是印度教。

印度曾经感到，无论种族的多样性有多少缺点，它都是必不可少的；而且你永远都不可能逼迫天性进入到你出于方便而设置的狭窄范围之内，而无需终究有一天为此付出高昂的代价。在这一点上印度是正确的；但是她却没有认识到人类彼此间的差异并非像阻隔的群山那样，永远地固定在那里——它们是随着生命的流动而流动的，它们正改变着自己的轨迹、形状和大小。

因此，在种姓制度的规章里面，印度承认了差别，然而她却没有承认易变性的生命法则。为了避免冲突，印度建立起了不可移动的边界壁垒，从而给她众多的种族带来了和平和秩序的、消极的好处，然而并没有给他们带来发展和变化的、积极的机会。她接受了产生多样性的自然，但是却忽略了自然正是利用这种多样性从事其有着无穷的变化和组合方式的世界游戏。她真实地面对生命的丰富多彩，但是却无视其永远变动的事实。因此，生命就从她的社会体系当中脱离了出来，取而代之的是她竭尽一切仪式所膜拜的，由无数她亲手打造的隔间所构成的，宏大无比的牢笼。

在印度试图避免行业利益的冲突的时候，发生了同样的事情。她将不同的行业和职业与不同的种姓相联系。这种做法可以一劳永逸地减轻竞争所带来的无休止的嫉妒和仇恨——这种竞争滋生了残忍，制造了浓重的、充满了谎言和欺骗的氛围。然而印度的这种做法同样强调了遗传的法则，忽略了变化的规律，因此逐渐地将艺术退化成为工艺，将天才堕落成为技工。

然而，西方的观察家们却没能洞悉这样一个事实：印度在其种姓制度当中很严肃地承担起了，以避免所有的矛盾和摩擦为目的的，解决种族问题的责任。她给每个种族在其活动范围内以自由。毋庸讳言，印度在这方面还没有获得完全的成功。但是，你们必须承认，尽管西方在种族同一性方面拥有更大的优势，然而她却从来没有关注过这个问题；而且，每当遇到这样的问题时，她都会试图通过采取置之不理的方式将它轻描淡写。这也是西方反亚风潮的原因所在——她剥夺了外国人在西方国家诚实谋生的权利。在大多数的殖民地国家，你们只在他们从事伐木和取水的工作时才会接纳他们。你们要么对外国人大门紧闭，要么就奴役他们，而这就是你们对于种族矛盾问题的解决之道。无论这样做可能存在什么样的好处，你们都必须承认，这种做法并非源自文明的、更为高尚的动机，而是来自于更为低级的、贪婪和仇恨的骚动。你们说这就是人类的本性——不过别忘了，印度在通过固定的、社会等级的藩篱来强行地划分种族差别的时候，也认为自己了解人类的本性。但是只有当吃过了苦头之后，我们才发现人类的本性并非它看上去的那个样子；而是存在于现实当中，存在于它无限的可能性当中。当我们盲目地攻击人性，说它衣衫褴褛的时候，它便会脱下伪装，露出庐山真面目——我们所攻击的竟然是我们的上帝。我们出于傲慢或是自私的目的对别人进行丑化的同时，同样也会丑化我们自己的人性——这是一种最为严厉的惩罚，因为当我们发现它的时候已经为时已晚了。

不单单是你们与外国人的关系，你们自己社会中不同阶层间的关系也都没有达到和谐一致。矛盾和竞争的精神在你们这里可以自由地横冲直撞。由于它的起源是对于财富和权力的贪婪，所以它的最终结局除了暴毙之外别无选择。在印度，商品的生产是根据社会调解的规律进行的。它的基础是合作，其目的是充分地满足社会的需求。但是在西方，商品生产是在竞争的催动下进行的，它的目标是为个人捞取财富。但是个人就像是几何线条一样；它有长度却没有宽度，并且还没有达到足以长久地容纳什么东西的深度。因此，它的贪婪或攫取是永无止境的。在这种几何线条不断的成长过程中，它会与其他的线条交织、纠缠在一起，但是在其与世隔绝的、纤细的状态下，永远都不会获得完善的理想。

我们知道自己的胃口是有一定限度的，而且我们知道超越了这一限度就会有损我们的健康。但是，对于占有财富和权力的贪欲来说，难道就没有超越它就会陷入死亡的界限吗？在这些民族的、物质主义的狂欢节上，西方的各个民族不正是在单纯地生产财富而忽略创造理想的过程中挥霍着他们的生命活力吗？难道说一个文明可以忽略道德健康的法则，并且通过大肆地吞咽物质财富而无休止地膨胀下去吗？人类按照其社会理想，会自然而然地限制自己的贪欲，使其从属于人类本性当中的、更为高尚的目的。但是在经济领域里，我们的贪欲除了受到供给和需求的限制以外不受其他任何的限制；而供给和需求则是可以人为地创造的，这就给个人提供了机会，让他沉溺于一场无尽的、让人肚满肠肥的盛宴之中。在印度，我们的社会本能对我们的贪欲加以限制——可能这种限制造成了极端的压抑——但是在西方，没有道德目的的经济组织的幽灵，却驱赶着人们永久地追逐着财富；难道对于这种行为就没有有益于身心的界限吗？

在各种社会制度中努力成形的理想有两个目标。一个是为了人类和谐的发展而管控我们的激情和贪欲，另外一个就是帮助人类养成对其同类的无私的爱。因此，社会就是人类道德和精神渴望的表现形式，而这些渴望则属于人类更为崇高的本性。

我们的食物是具有创造性的，它能强健我们的身体；但是酒则不然，它只能给我们以刺激。我们的社会理想创造了人类世界，但是当我们的思想偏离了这些社会理想，转而贪婪地追求权力的时候，在这种醉酒的状态之下，我们就会生活在一个不正常的世界里面。在这里，我们的力量并非健康的标志，我们的解放也并非是获得了自由。因此，当我们的思想不自由的时候，政治的自由并不能给予我们自由。一辆汽车并不能自由地行动，因为它不过是台机器而已。只有当我自己是自由的时候，我才能利用这台车达到我自由的目的。

我们永远都不要忘记，在当今，那些已经获得了政治自由的人们不见得就是自由的；他们不过是强大而已。他们放纵的激情正在创造出披着自由伪装的，巨大的奴役性质的组织。那些把赚钱当作他们最高目标的人们正在无意识中出卖他们的生命和灵魂给富人或是给某些代表金钱的联合体。那些迷恋政治权力，并且为自己扩大了对于其他种族的控制而感到洋洋自得的人们，逐渐地放弃了他们的自由和人性，将其交给了那些为了奴役其他民族而必须建立起来的组织。在那些所谓的自由国家中，大多数的人们并不自由；他们正在少数人的驱使之下去完成他们自己也不清楚的任务。这种情况之所以产生是因为，人们并没有将道德的和精神的自由看作是自己的目标。他们以自己的激情制造出巨大的漩涡；他们因为自己快速的旋转而感到头晕眼花、如醉如痴，并且就此以为那就是自由。但是，伺机袭击他们的厄运就像是死亡一样不可避免——因为人类的真理是道德的真理，人类的解放是精神生活的解放。

印度当今大多数民族主义者的通行观点就是，我们在社会和精神理想方面已经达到了尽善尽美的程度，社会建设性工作在我们出生前的几千年前就已经开始了，而且现在，我们可以自由地在政治方面大展拳脚。我们从来没有想过将我们如今的软弱无能归咎于我们的社会缺陷，因为我们已经将下面这一点当作了我们民族主义的信条：我们祖先所创立的这一制度将会永远适用，因为他们拥有洞悉古今的超人的眼光，并且拥有为未来提供无限滋养的神奇力量。因此，我们认为自己的痛苦和缺陷都是由历史上来自于外部的突然袭击所造成。这就是为什么我们认为自己的唯一任务就是要在社会奴役的流沙之上建造一个自由的政治奇迹。事实上，我们是要阻断自己的历史河流的本来路径，并且单纯地从其他民族的历史源泉那里借来力量。

我们印度有些人妄想着单纯的政治自由就可以让我们获得自由。他们把西方的说教当作了绝对的真理，却丢掉了自己对于人性的信仰。我们一定不要忘记，我们在自己的社会中所抱有的任何缺陷都会在政治方面成为危险的策源地。那种导致我们盲目地崇拜社会制度中陈规陋习的惯性，同样会在我们的政治中建造出由不可移动的壁垒围成的监狱牢房。狭隘的同情心使得我们有可能将令人恼怒的奴役强加给相当大的一部分人类，而与此同时，它会在政治中坚持不懈地制造出不公正的专制。

当我们的民族主义者们谈论理想的时候，他们忘了我们民族主义的基础是不牢固的。那些赞成这些理想的人们，自己在其社会实践方面却往往最为保守。例如，民族主义者说：看一看瑞士吧，尽管那里有种族差异，但其人民还是团结成了一个民族。可是，诸位不要忘了，瑞士的各个种族是可以彼此交往的，是可以通婚的，因为他们有着相同的血统。然而在印度却没有与生俱来的共同权利。当我们谈论西方民族的时候，我们忘了，那里的各个民族之间并不存在彼此间的，像我们各个种姓之间所存在着的，生理上的排斥。一个血脉不相连通的民族中的各个种族，会在没有强迫或是没有金钱利诱的情况下为了彼此而流血牺牲吗？全世界范围之内有这样的例子吗？我们可以希冀这些阻碍我们种族融合的，道德的藩篱不会阻碍我们在政治上的团结吗？

于是，我们必须再次完全地承认这个事实：我们的社会限制仍然是如此残暴，以至于它可以将人们变成懦夫。如果有人告诉我他持有异端的观点，但是他不能坚持自己的看法，因为那样的话他就会为社会所不容，那么我会原谅他为了生存而在谎言中生活。强迫我们过同伴的生活——他们即便是在食物的选择方面也与我们不同，成为他们负担的社会思维习惯一定会在我们的政治组织当中持续下去，并且最终导致高压政治的机器被创造出来，用以摧毁每一个显示着生命迹象的合理的差异。暴政只会在我们的政治生活中增加不可避免的谎言和伪善。自由的名号就那么值钱吗？我们宁愿牺牲掉自己的道德自由来同它作交换吗？

当我们拥有年轻活力的时候，我们对于自己习惯的放纵并不会马上产生影响。但是这种放纵会逐渐地吞噬我们的活力，而且当我们的生命开始走下坡路的时候，我们就不得不为此买单，并且还清债务，从而导致我们的破产。在西方，尽管你们的人性正在由于它在每一次运用权力的过程中所发作的间发性酒狂而受到折磨，可是你们仍然能够趾高气扬。印度也处在她年富力强的时期，所以能够在自己的内脏器官中携带僵化而完善的、社会组织的致死的重量；但是这一重量对她来说事关重大，并且已经逐渐地让她的生命天性麻痹瘫痪。这就是印度的知识阶层对社会需求变得麻木不仁的原因。他们以为静止的社会结构正是说明了它们的完美无瑕——而且，因为我们的社会有机体已经失去了健康的、疼痛的感觉，所以他们就误以为它并不需要帮助。因此他们认为，他们所有的能量只需在政治领域内发挥就可以了。这就像一个人，他的双腿已经萎缩并且失去了功能，可是他却试图欺骗自己，说自己的双腿不能动了是因为它们已经获得了最终的解脱，而自己唯一的过错就是缺少拐杖而已。

关于印度的社会和政治重建就说这么多吧。现在我们谈一下印度的工业。经常有人问我，自从英国政府到来以后，印度是否有过工业的重建。我们必须记住，在英国统治印度之初，我们的工业就受到了抑制；而且从那时候起，我们没有得到过任何真正的帮助或是鼓励，以使我们能够同世界上的商业组织的怪兽进行对抗。各个民族都号令我们要保持一个纯粹农业国的地位，甚至于永远都忘了如何使用武力。于是印度就被变成了很多份的、易消化的食物，随时准备提供给任何一个，哪怕是牙齿还没有发育完全的民族进行吞咽。

因此，印度在其工业创新方面鲜有作为。我个人并不相信当今臃肿的商业组织。它们的丑陋的事实表明，它们与所谓创新是格格不入的。自然的巨大力量不是在丑陋，而是在美丽当中展露其真理。美丽是当造物主对自己的造物感到满意的时候，在其上面签下的自己的姓名。所有傲慢地忽略了完美法则的，厚颜无耻地展示其丑陋的产品，都是对上帝永远的冒犯。只要你们的商业缺乏优雅的高贵，它就不是真正的商业。“美丽”和她的双胞胎哥哥“真理”在成长的过程中要求得到的是闲情雅致和自我控制。但是庞大的、占有的贪欲却总要超越时空的限制。它的唯一目标就是生产和消费。它对于美丽的自然和活着的人类均没有怜悯。它会冷酷地、毫不犹豫地将他们的美丽和生命榨取出来，然后将其铸成钱币。在人类早期的时候，我们鄙视这种商业的丑陋和粗俗，因为那时候我们拥有闲暇的时光，能够拨开云雾，透视人性当中的完美。那时候，人类正直地以自己单纯谋财的本能为耻。但是，在这个科学的年代，金钱由于其变态膨胀的体积而为自身赢得了王位。而且，当金钱聚集了大量的财富而羞辱人类更为崇高的本性，并且在其周边驱除掉美丽和高尚的情感的时候，我们便屈服了。因为我们已经卑鄙地接受了它双手奉上的贿赂，而且，我们的想象力已经在它硕大无比的肉身面前卑躬屈膝。

但是，正是它的笨拙和无尽的复杂表明了它的失败。一位专业的游泳者不会通过激烈的动作展示其肌肉的力量，而是以看不到的、完美的优雅和安静显露其力量。人类与动物的真正区别就在于，人类的力量和价值是内在的和隐形的。但是，如今人类的商业文明却不仅仅是占据了大量的时间和空间，而且正在浪费时间和空间。它的动作激烈、噪音大而不和谐。它携带着对于自己的诅咒，因为它正在将自己所依赖的人性践踏得扭曲变形。它正在竭尽全力，以幸福为代价捞取金钱。人类正在将自身最小化，为的是能够给这些商业组织提供宽敞的空间。人类正在嘲弄他的情感使其蒙羞，因为这些情感会挡住他的机器们前进的道路。

在我们的神话中有这样一个故事，如果有谁想要通过苦修以求达到永生的话，那么他就一定会受到来自不朽之神因陀罗的诱惑。如果他禁不住这些诱惑，他就会迷失。几百年来，西方一直在致力于追求不朽。因陀罗已经给她送去了诱惑来考验她。这个华丽的诱惑就是财富。西方接受了它，因此她的人性的文明便在机器的荒原上迷失了方向。

这种以丑恶装点门面的、残忍的商业主义对于全体人类来说都是威胁，因为它正在把权力的理想凌驾于完善的理想之上。它正在使得利己主义的歪理邪说在无耻的赤裸中欢呼雀跃。我们的神经要比我们的肌肉更加脆弱。宝贵的东西因其宝贵而需要我们悉心的呵护；如果失去了我们的呵护，它们就会像失去了呵护的婴儿一样变得无助。因此，当无情的、野蛮的权力在人性的大道上横冲直撞的时候，它便以其粗野吓跑了我们几个世纪以来以牺牲为代价所珍爱的理想。

诱惑对于强者来说是致命的，对于弱者来说更是如此。即便是不朽之神所送上的诱惑，我也不欢迎它来到印度。让我们的生命外表简朴而内在丰富吧。让我们的文明牢牢地建立在社会合作，而非经济盘剥和对抗的基础之上吧。如何在经济恶魔嗜血的利齿间做到这一切，则是摆在所有对于人类灵魂拥有信仰的，东方各民族的思想家面前的任务。接受那些与我们有不同理想的人们所开出的条件只会证明我们的懒惰和无能。我们应当积极地促使世界诸强国引领历史的发展，使其达到完善的彼岸。

从上面我说的话你们就知道我并不是一个经济学家。我愿意承认供需规律的存在，承认人类的痴迷——他们想要占有更多的东西，而不是于己有益的东西。然而我坚信，在人性之中存在着一种完美的和谐。在那里，贫穷不能带走他的财富；在那里，失败可能导致成功，死亡可能让他不朽；在那里，作为永恒正义之神所做出的补偿，那些落后的民族会将他们所受到的凌辱转化为金灿灿的胜利。

注释

〔1〕那纳克：Nanak（1469-1533），卡比尔：Kabir（1440-1518），柴塔尼亚：Chaitanya（1485-1533）。

〔2〕印度国民大会党（The Indian National Congress）创建于1885年。

〔3〕分裂出现在1907年，在苏拉特（Surat）举行的印度国大党的年会上。

Rabindranath Tagore
Nationalism

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

Nationalism in Japan

Ⅰ

The worst form of bondage is the bondage of dejection, which keeps men hopelessly chained in loss of faith in themselves. We have been repeatedly told, with some justification, that Asia lives in the past — it is like a rich mausoleum which displays all its magnificence in trying to immortalize the dead. It was said of Asia that it could never move in the path of progress, its face was so inevitably turned backwards. We accepted this accusation, and came to believe it. In India, I know, a large section of our educated community, grown tired of feeling the humiliation of this charge against us, is trying with all its resources of self-deception to turn it into a matter of boasting. But boasting is only a masked shame, it does not truly believe in itself.

When things stood still like this, and we in Asia hypnotized ourselves into the belief that it could never by any possibility be otherwise, Japan rose from her dreams, and in giant strides left centuries of inaction behind, overtaking the present time in its foremost achievement. This has broken the spell under which we lay in torpor for ages, taking it to be the normal condition of certain races living in certain geographical limits. We forgot that in Asia great kingdoms were founded, philosophy, science, arts and literatures flourished, and all the great religions of the world had their cradles. Therefore it cannot be said that there is anything inherent in the soil and climate of Asia to produce mental inactivity and to atrophy the faculties which impel men to go forward. For centuries we did hold torches of civilization in the East when the West slumbered in darkness, and that could never be the sign of sluggish minds or narrowness of vision.

Then fell the darkness of night upon all the lands of the East. The current of time seemed to stop at once, and Asia ceased to take any new food, feeding upon its own past, which is really feeding upon itself. The stillness seemed like death, and the great voice was silenced which sent forth messages of eternal truth that have saved man's life from pollution for generations, like the ocean of air that keeps the earth sweet, ever cleansing its impurities.

But life has its sleep, its periods of inactivity, when it loses its movements, takes no new food, living upon its past storage. Then it grows helpless, its muscles relaxed, and it easily lends itself to be jeered at for its stupor. In the rhythm of life, pauses there must be for the renewal of life. Life in its activity is ever spending itself, burning all its fuel. This extravagance cannot go on indefinitely, but is always followed by a passive stage, when all expenditure is stopped and all adventures abandoned in favour of rest and slow recuperation.

The tendency of the mind is economical: it loves to form habits and move in grooves which save it the trouble of thinking anew at each of its steps. Ideals once formed make the mind lazy. It becomes afraid to risk its acquisitions in fresh endeavours. It tries to enjoy complete security by shutting up its belongings behind fortifications of habits. But this is really shutting oneself up from the fullest enjoyment of one's own possessions. It is miserliness. The living ideals must not lose their touch with the growing and changing life. Their real freedom is not within the boundaries of security, but on the high-road of adventures, full of the risk of new experiences.

One morning the whole world looked up in surprise when Japan broke through her walls of old habits in a night and came out triumphant. It was done in such an incredibly short time that it seemed like a change of dress and not like the building up of a new structure. She showed the confident strength of maturity, and the freshness and infinite potentiality of new life at the same moment. The fear was entertained that it was a mere freak of history, a child's game of Time, the blowing up of a soap-bubble, perfect in its rondure and colouring, hollow in its heart and without substance. But Japan has proved conclusively that this sudden revealment of her power is not a short-lived wonder, a chance product of time and tide, thrown up from the depth of obscurity to be swept away the next moment into a sea of oblivion.

The truth is that Japan is old and new at the same time. She has her legacy of ancient culture from the East — the culture that enjoins man to look for his true wealth and power in his inner soul, the culture that gives self-possession in the face of loss and danger, self-sacrifice without counting the cost or hoping for gain, defiance of death, acceptance of countless social obligations that we owe to men as social beings. In a word, modern Japan has come out of the immemorial East like a lotus blossoming in easy grace, all the while keeping its firm hold upon the profound depth from which it has sprung.

And Japan, the child of the Ancient East, has also fearlessly claimed all the gifts of the modern age for herself. She has shown her bold spirit in breaking through the confinements of habits, useless accumulations of the lazy mind, which seeks safety in its thrift and its locks and keys. Thus she has come in contact with the living time and has accepted with eagerness and aptitude the responsibilities of modern civilization.

This it is which has given heart to the rest of Asia. We have seen that the life and the strength are there in us; only the dead crust has to be removed. We have seen that taking shelter in the dead is death itself, and only taking all the risk of life to the fullest extent is living.

I, for myself, cannot believe that Japan has become what she is by imitating the West. We cannot imitate life, we cannot simulate strength for long, nay, what is more, a mere imitation is a source of weakness. For it hampers our true nature; it is always in our way. It is like dressing our skeleton with another man's skin, giving rise to eternal feuds between the skin and the bones at every movement.

The real truth is that science is not man's nature, it is mere knowledge and training. By knowing the laws of the material universe you do not change your deeper humanity. You can borrow knowledge from others, but you cannot borrow temperament.

But at the imitative stage of our schooling we cannot distinguish between the essential and the non-essential, between what is transferable and what is not. It is something like the faith of the primitive mind in the magical properties of the accidents of outward forms which accompany some real truth. We are afraid of leaving out something valuable and efficacious by not swallowing the husk with the kernel. But while our greed delights in wholesale appropriation, it is the function of our vital nature to assimilate, which is the only true appropriation for a living organism. Where there is life it is sure to assert itself by its choice of acceptance and refusal according to its constitutional necessity. The living organism does not allow itself to grow into its food; it changes its food into its own body. And only thus can it grow strong and not by mere accumulation, or by giving up its personal identity.

Japan has imported her food from the West, but not her vital nature. Japan cannot altogether lose and merge herself in the scientific paraphernalia she has acquired from the West and be turned into a mere borrowed machine. She has her own soul, which must assert itself over all her requirements. That she is capable of doing so, and that the process of assimilation is going on, have been amply proved by the signs of vigorous health that she exhibits. And I earnestly hope that Japan may never lose her faith in her own soul, in the mere pride of her foreign acquisition. For that pride itself is a humiliation, ultimately leading to poverty and weakness. It is the pride of the fop who sets more store on his new head-dress than on his head itself.

The whole world waits to see what this great eastern nation is going to do with the opportunities and responsibilities she has accepted from the hands of the modern time. If it be a mere reproduction of the West, then the great expectation she has raised will remain unfulfilled. For there are grave questions that western civilization has presented before the world but not completely answered. The conflict between the individual and the state, labour and capital, the man and the woman; the conflict between the greed of material gain and the spiritual life of man, the organized selfishness of nations and the higher ideals of humanity; the conflict between all the ugly complexities inseparable from giant organizations of commerce and state and the natural instincts of man crying for simplicity and beauty and fulness of leisure — all these have to be brought to a harmony in a manner not yet dreamt of.

We have seen this great stream of civilization choking itself from debris carried by its innumerable channels. We have seen that with all its vaunted love of humanity it has proved itself the greatest menace to Man, far worse than the sudden outbursts of nomadic barbarism from which men suffered in the early ages of history. We have seen that, in spite of its boasted love of freedom, it has produced worse forms of slavery than ever were current in earlier societies — slavery whose chains are unbreakable, either because they are unseen, or because they assume the names and appearance of freedom. We have seen, under the spell of its gigantic sordidness, man losing faith in all the heroic ideals of life which have made him great.

Therefore you cannot with a light heart accept the modern civilization with all its tendencies, methods and structures, and dream that they are inevitable. You must apply your eastern mind, your spiritual strength, your love of simplicity, your recognition of social obligation, in order to cut out a new path for this great unwieldy car of progress, shrieking out its loud discords as it runs. You must minimize the immense sacrifice of man's life and freedom that it claims in its every movement. For generations you have felt and thought and worked, have enjoyed and worshipped in your own special manner; and this cannot be cast off like old clothes. It is in your blood, in the marrow of your bones, in the texture of your flesh, in the tissue of your brains; and it must modify everything you lay your hands upon, without your knowing, even against your wishes. Once you did solve the problems of man to your own satisfaction, you had your philosophy of life and evolved your own art of living. All this you must apply to the present situation, and out of it will arise a new creation and not a mere repetition, a creation which the soul of your people will own for itself and proudly offer to the world as its tribute to the welfare of man. Of all countries in Asia, here in Japan you have the freedom to use the materials you have gathered from the West according to your genius and your need. Therefore your responsibility is all the greater, for in your voice Asia shall answer the questions that Europe has submitted to the conference of Man. In your land the experiments will be carried on by which the East will change the aspects of modern civilization, infusing life in it where it is a machine, substituting the human heart for cold expediency, not caring so much for power and success as for harmonious and living growth, for truth and beauty.

I cannot but bring to your mind those days when the whole of eastern Asia from Burma to Japan was united with India in the closest tie of friendship, the only natural tie which can exist between nations. There was a living communication of hearts, a nervous system evolved through which messages ran between us about the deepest needs of humanity. We did not stand in fear of each other; we had not to arm ourselves to keep each other in check; our relation was not that of self-interest, of exploration and spoliation of each other's pocket; ideas and ideals were exchanged, gifts of the highest love were offered and taken; no difference of languages and customs hindered us in approaching each other heart to heart; no pride of race or insolent consciousness of superiority, physical or mental, marred our relation; our arts and literatures put forth new leaves and flowers under the influence of this sunlight of united hearts, and races belonging to different lands and languages and histories acknowledged the highest unity of man and the deepest bond of love. May we not also remember that in those days of peace and goodwill, of men uniting for those supreme ends of life, your nature laid by for itself the balm of immortality which has helped your people to be born again in a new age, to be able to survive its old outworn structures and take on a new young body, to come out unscathed from the shock of the most wonderful revolution that the world has ever seen?

The political civilization which has sprung up from the soil of Europe and is overrunning the whole world, like some prolific weed, is based upon exclusiveness. It is always watchful to keep the aliens at bay or to exterminate them. It is carnivorous and cannibalistic in its tendencies, it feeds upon the resources of other peoples and tries to swallow their whole future. It is always afraid of other races achieving eminence, naming it as a peril, and tries to thwart all symptoms of greatness outside its own boundaries, forcing down races of men who are weaker, to be eternally fixed in their weakness. Before this political civilization came to its power and opened its hungry jaws wide enough to gulp down great continents of the earth, we had wars, pillages, changes of monarchy and consequent miseries, but never such a sight of fearful and hopeless voracity, such wholesale feeding of nation upon nation, such huge machines for turning great portions of the earth into mince-meat, never such terrible jealousies with all their ugly teeth and claws ready for tearing open each other's vitals. This political civilization is scientific, not human. It is powerful because it concentrates all its forces upon one purpose, like a millionaire acquiring money at the cost of his soul. It betrays its trust, it weaves its meshes of lies without shame, it enshrines gigantic idols of greed in its temples, taking great pride in the costly ceremonials of its worship, calling this patriotism. And it can be safely prophesied that this cannot go on, for there is a moral law in this world which has its application both to individuals and to organized bodies of men. You cannot go on violating these laws in the name of your nation, yet enjoy their advantage as individuals. This public sapping of ethical ideals slowly reacts upon each member of society, gradually breeding weakness where it is not seen, and causing that cynical distrust of all things sacred in human nature, which is the true symptom of senility. You must keep in mind that this political civilization, this creed of national patriotism, has not been given a long trial. The lamp of ancient Greece is extinct in the land where it was first lighted; the power of Rome lies dead and buried under the ruins of its vast empire. But the civilization, whose basis is society and the spiritual ideal of man, is still a living thing in China and in India. Though it may look feeble and small, judged by the standard of the mechanical power of modern days, yet like small seeds it still contains life and will sprout and grow, and spread its beneficent branches, producing flowers and fruits when its time comes and showers of grace descend upon it from heaven. But ruins of skyscrapers of power, and broken machinery of greed, even God's rain is powerless to raise up again; for they were not of life, but went against life as a whole — they are relics of the rebellion that shattered itself to pieces against the eternal.

But the charge is brought against us that the ideals we cherish in the East are static, that they have not the impetus in them to move, to open out new vistas of knowledge and power, that the systems of philosophy which are the mainstays of the time-worn civilizations of the Fast despise all outward proofs, remaining stolidly satisfied in their subjective certainty. This proves that when our knowledge is vague we are apt to accuse of vagueness our object of knowledge itself. To a western observer our civilization appears as all metaphysics, as to a deaf man piano-playing appears to be mere movements of fingers and no music. He cannot think that we have found some deep basis of reality upon which we have built our institutions.

Unfortunately all proofs of reality are in realization. The reality of the scene before you depends only upon the fact that you can see, and it is difficult for us to prove to an unbeliever that our civilization is not a nebulous system of abstract speculations, that it has achieved something which is a positive truth — a truth that can give man's heart its shelter and sustenance. It has evolved an inner sense — a sense of vision, the vision of the infinite reality in all finite things.

But he says, 'You do not make any progress; there is no movement in you.' I ask him, 'How do you know it? You have to judge progress according to its aim. A railway train makes its progress towards the terminus station — it is movement. But a full-grown tree has no definite movement of that kind; its progress is the inward progress of life. It lives, with its aspiration towards light tingling in its leaves and creeping in its silent sap.'

We also have lived for centuries; we still live, and we have our aspiration for a reality that has no end to its realization — a reality that goes beyond death, giving it a meaning, that rises above all evils of life, bringing its peace and purity, its cheerful renunciation of self. The product of this inner life is a living product. It will be needed when the youth returns home weary and dust-laden, when the soldier is wounded, when the wealth is squandered away and pride is humbled, when man's heart cries for truth in the immensity of facts, and harmony in the contradiction of tendencies. Its value is not in its multiplication of materials, but in its spiritual fulfilment.

There are things that cannot wait. You have to rush and run and march if you must fight or take the best place in the market. You strain your nerves and are on the alert when you chase opportunities that are always on the wing. But there are ideals which do not play hide-and-seek with our life; they slowly grow from seed to flower, from flower to fruit; they require infinite space and heaven's light to mature, and the fruits that they produce can survive years of insult and neglect. The East with her ideals, in whose bosom are stored the ages of sunlight and silence of stars, can patiently wait till the West, hurrying after the expedient, loses breath and stops. Europe, while busily speeding to her engagements, disdainfully casts her glance from her carriage window at the reaper reaping his harvest in the field, and in her intoxication of speed cannot but think of him as slow and ever receding backwards. But the speed comes to its end; the engagement loses its meaning and the hungry heart clamours for food, till at last she comes to the lowly reaper reaping his harvest in the sun. For if the office cannot wait, or the buying and selling, or the craving for excitement, love waits, and beauty, and the wisdom of suffering and the fruits of patient devotion and reverent meekness of simple faith. And thus shall wait the East till her time comes.

I must not hesitate to acknowledge where Europe is great, for great she is without doubt. We cannot help loving her with all our heart and paying her the best homage of our admiration — the Europe who, in her literature and art, pours out an inexhaustible cascade of beauty and truth fertilizing all countries and all time; the Europe who, with a mind which is titanic in its untiring power, is sweeping the height and the depth of the universe, winning her homage of knowledge from the infinitely great and the infinitely small, applying all the resources of her great intellect and heart in healing the sick and alleviating those miseries of man which up till now we were contented to accept in a spirit of hopeless resignation; the Europe who is making the earth yield more fruit than seemed possible, coaxing and compelling the great forces of nature into man's service. Such true greatness must have its motive power in spiritual strength. For only the spirit of man can defy all limitations, have faith in its ultimate success, throw its searchlight beyond the immediate and the apparent, gladly suffer martyrdom for ends which cannot be achieved in its lifetime and accept failure without acknowledging defeat. In the heart of Europe runs the purest stream of human love, of love of justice, of spirit of self-sacrifice for higher ideals. The Christian culture of centuries has sunk deep in her life's core. In Europe we have seen noble minds who have ever stood up for the rights of man irrespective of colour and creed; who have braved calumny and insult from their own people in fighting for humanity's cause and raising their voices against the mad orgies of militarism, against the rage for brutal retaliation or rapacity that sometimes takes possession of a whole people; who are always ready to make reparation for wrongs done in the past by their own nations and vainly attempt to stem the tide of cowardly injustice that flows unchecked because the resistance is weak and innocuous on the part of the injured. There are these knight-errants of modern Europe who have not lost their faith in the disinterested love of freedom, in the ideals which own no geographical boundaries or national self-seeking. These are there to prove that the fountainhead of the water of everlasting life has not run dry in Europe, and from thence she will have her rebirth time after time. Only there, where Europe is too consciously busy in building up her power, defying her deeper nature and mocking it, she is heaping up her iniquities to the sky, crying for God's vengeance and spreading the infection of ugliness, physical and moral, over the face of the earth with her heartless commerce heedlessly outraging man's sense of the beautiful and the good. Europe is supremely good in her beneficence where her face is turned to all humanity; and Europe is supremely evil in her maleficent aspect where her face is turned only upon her own interest, using all her power of greatness for ends which are against the infinite and eternal in Man.

Eastern Asia has been pursuing its own path, evolving its own civilization, which was not political but social, not predatory and mechanically efficient but spiritual and based upon all the varied and deeper relations of humanity. The solutions of the life problems of peoples were thought out in seclusion and carried out behind the security of aloofness, where all the dynastic changes and foreign invasions hardly touched them. But now we are overtaken by the outside world, our seclusion is lost for ever. Yet this we must not regret, as a plant should never regret when the obscurity of its seed-time is broken. Now the time has come when we must make the world problem our own problem; we must bring the spirit of civilization into harmony with the history of all nations of the earth; we must not, in foolish pride, still keep ourselves fast within the shell of the seed and the crust of the earth which protected and nourished our ideals; for these, the shell and the crust, were meant to be broken, so that life may spring up in all its vigour and beauty, bringing its offerings to the world in open light.

In this task of breaking the barrier and facing the world Japan has come out the first in the East. She has infused hope in the heart of all Asia. This hope provides the hidden fire which is needed for all works of creation. Asia now feels that she must prove her life by producing living work; she must not lie passively dormant, or feebly imitate the West, in the infatuation of fear and flattery. For this we offer our thanks to this Land of the Rising Sun and solemnly ask her to remember that she has the mission of the East to fulfil. She must infuse the sap of a fuller humanity into the heart of modern civilization. She must never allow it to get choked with noxious undergrowth, but lead it up towards light and freedom, towards the pure air and broad space where it can receive, in the dawn of its day and the darkness of its night, heaven's inspiration. Let the greatness of her ideals become visible to all men like her snow-crowned Fuji rising from the heart of the country into the region of the infinite, supremely distinct from its surroundings, beautiful like a maiden in its magnificent sweep of curve, yet firm and strong and serenely majestic.

Ⅱ

I have travelled in many countries and have met with men of all classes, but never in my travels did I feel the presence of the human so distinctly as in this land. In other great countries signs of man's power loomed large, and I saw vast organizations which showed efficiency in all their features. There, display and extravagance, in dress, in furniture, in costly entertainments, are startling. They seem to push you back into a corner, like a poor intruder at a feast; they are apt to make you envious, or take your breath away with amazement. There, you do not feel man as supreme; you are hurled against a stupendousness of things that alienate. But in Japan it is not the display of power or wealth that is the predominating element. You see everywhere emblems of love and admiration, and not mostly of ambition and greed. You see a people whose heart has come out and scattered itself in profusion in its commonest utensils of everyday life, in its social institutions, in its manners, which are carefully perfect, and in its dealings with things which are not only deft but graceful in every movement.

What has impressed me most in this country is the conviction that you have realized nature's secrets, not by methods of analytical knowledge, but by sympathy. You have known her language of lines, and music of colours, the symmetry in her irregularities, and the cadence in her freedom of movements; you have seen how she leads her immense crowds of things yet avoids all frictions, how the very conflicts in her creations break out in dance and music, how her exuberance has the aspect of the fulness of self-abandonment, and not a mere dissipation of display. You have discovered that nature reserves her power in forms of beauty; and it is this beauty which, like a mother, nourishes all the giant forces at her breast, keeping them in active vigour, yet in repose. You have known that energies of nature save themselves from wearing out by the rhythm of a perfect grace, and that she, with the tenderness of her curved lines, takes away fatigue from the world's muscles. I have felt that you have been able to assimilate these secrets into your life, and the truth which lies in the beauty of all things has passed into your souls. A mere knowledge of things can be had in a short enough time, but their spirit can only be acquired by centuries of training and self-control. Dominating nature from outside is a much simpler thing than making her your own in love's delight, which is a work of true genius. Your race has shown that genius, not by acquirement but by creation, not by display of things but by manifestation of its own inner being. This creative power there is in all nations, and it is ever active in getting hold of men's natures and giving them a form according to its ideals. But here, in Japan, it seems to have achieved its success, and deeply sunk into the minds of all men, and permeated their muscles and nerves. Your instincts have become true, your senses keen, and your hands have acquired natural skill. The genius of Europe has given her people the power of organization, which has specially made itself manifest in politics and commerce and in coordinating scientific knowledge. The genius of Japan has given you the vision of beauty in nature and the power of realizing it in your life.

All particular civilization is the interpretation of particular human experience. Europe seems to have felt emphatically the conflict of things in the universe, which can only be brought under control by conquest. Therefore she is ever ready for fight, and the best portion of her attention is occupied in organizing forces. But Japan has felt, in her world, the touch of some presence, which has evoked in her soul a feeling of reverent adoration. She does not boast of her mastery of nature, but to her she brings, with infinite care and joy, her offerings of love. Her relationship with the world is the deeper relationship of heart. This spiritual bond of love she has established with the hills of her country, with the sea and the streams, with the forests in all their flowery moods and varied physiognomy of branches; she has taken into her heart all the rustling whispers and sighing of the woodlands and sobbing of the waves; the sun and the moon she has studied in all the modulations of their lights and shades, and she is glad to close her shops to greet the seasons in her orchards and gardens and cornfields. This opening of the heart to the soul of the world is not confined to a section of your privileged classes; it is not the forced product of exotic culture, but it belongs to all your men and women of all conditions. This experience of your soul, in meeting a personality in the heart of the world, has been embodied in your civilization. It is a civilization of human relationship. Your duty towards your state has naturally assumed the character of filial duty, your nation becoming one family with your Emperor as its head. Your national unity has not been evolved from the comradeship of arms for defensive and offensive purpose, or from partnership in raiding adventures, dividing among each member the danger and spoils of robbery. It is not an outcome of the necessity of organization for some ulterior purpose, but it is an extension of the family and obligations of the heart in a wide field of space and time. The ideal of maitri is at the bottom of your culture — maitri with men and maitri with Nature. And the true expression of this love is in the language of beauty, which is so abundantly universal in this land. This is the reason why a stranger like myself, instead of feeling envy or humiliation before these manifestations of beauty, these creations of love, feels a readiness to participate in the joy and glory of such revealment of the human heart.

And this had made me all the more apprehensive of the change which threatens Japanese civilization, as something like a menace to one's own person. For the huge heterogeneity of the modern age, whose only common bond is usefulness, is nowhere so pitifully exposed against the dignity and hidden power of reticent beauty as in Japan.

But the danger lies in this, that organized ugliness storms the mind and carries the day by its mass, by its aggressive persistence, but its power of mockery is directed against the deeper sentiments of the heart. Its harsh obtrusiveness makes it forcibly visible to us, overcoming our senses — and we bring sacrifices to its altar, as does a savage to the fetish which appears powerful because of its hideousness. Therefore its rivalry with things that are modest and profound and have the subtle delicacy of life is to be dreaded.

I am quite sure that there are men in your country who are not in sympathy with your inherited ideals, whose object is to gain and not to grow. They are loud in their boast that they have modernized Japan. While I agree with them so far as to say that the spirit of the race should harmonize with the spirit of the time, I must warn them that modernizing is a mere affectation of modernism, just as an affectation of poesy is poetizing. It is nothing but mimicry, only affectation is louder than the original, and it is too literal. One must bear in mind that those who have the true modern spirit need not modernize, just as those who are truly brave are not braggarts. Modernism is not in the dress of the Europeans, or in the hideous structures where their children are interned when they take their lessons, or in the square houses with flat, straight wall-surfaces, pierced with parallel lines of windows, where these people are caged in their lifetime; certainly modernism is not in their ladies' bonnets, carrying on them loads of incongruities. These are not modern, but merely European. True modernism is freedom of mind, not slavery of taste. It is independence of thought and action, not tutelage under European schoolmasters. It is science, but not its wrong application in life — a mere imitation of our science teachers who reduce it into a superstition, absurdly invoking its aid for all impossible purposes.

Life based upon mere science is attractive to some men, because it has all the characteristics of sport; it feigns seriousness, but is not profound. When you go a-hunting, the less pity you have the better; for your one object is to chase the game and kill it, to feel that you are the greater animal, that your method of destruction is thorough and scientific. And the life of science is that superficial life. It pursues success with skill and thoroughness, and takes no account of the higher nature of man. But those whose minds are crude enough to plan their lives upon the supposition that man is merely a hunter and his paradise the paradise of sportsmen will be rudely awakened in the midst of their trophies of skeletons and skulls.

I do not for a moment suggest that Japan should be unmindful of acquiring modern weapons of self-protection. But this should never be allowed to go beyond her instinct of self-preservation. She must know that the real power is not in the weapons themselves, but in the man who wields those weapons; and when he, in his eagerness for power, multiplies his weapons at the cost of his own soul, then it is he who is in even greater danger than his enemies.

Things that are living are so easily hurt; therefore they require protection. In nature, life protects itself within its coverings, which are built with life's own material. Therefore they are in harmony with life's growth, or else when the time comes they easily give way and are forgotten. The living man has his true protection in his spiritual ideals which have their vital connection with his life, and grow with his growth. But, unfortunately, all his armour is not living — some of it is made of steel, inert and mechanical. Therefore, while making use of it, man has to be careful to protect himself from its tyranny. If he is weak enough to grow smaller to fit himself to his covering, then it becomes a process of gradual suicide by shrinkage of the soul. And Japan must have a firm faith in the moral law of existence to be able to assert to herself that the western nations are following that path of suicide, where they are smothering their humanity under the immense weight of organizations in order to keep themselves in power and hold others in subjection.

What is dangerous for Japan is not the imitation of the outer features of the West, but the acceptance of the motive force of western nationalism as her own. Her social ideals are already showing signs of defeat at the hands of politics. I can see her motto, taken from science, 'Survival of the fittest', writ large at the entrance of her present-day history — the motto whose meaning is, 'Help yourself, and never heed what it costs to others', the motto of the blind man who only believes in what he can touch, because he cannot see. But those who can see know that men are so closely knit that when you strike others the blow comes back to yourself. The moral law, which is the greatest discovery of man, is the discovery of this wonderful truth, that man becomes all the truer the more he realizes himself in others. This truth has not only a subjective value, but is manifested in every department of our life. And nations who sedulously cultivate moral blindness as the cult of patriotism will end their existence in a sudden and violent death. In past ages we had foreign invasions, but they never touched the soul of the people deeply. They were merely the outcome of individual ambitions. The people themselves, being free from the responsibilities of the baser and more heinous side of those adventures, had all the advantage of the heroic and the human disciplines derived from them. This developed their unflinching loyalty, their singleminded devotion to the obligations of honour, their power of complete self-surrender and fearless acceptance of death and danger. Therefore the ideals, whose seats were in the hearts of the people, would not undergo any serious change owing to the policies adopted by the kings or generals. But now, where the spirit of western nationalism prevails, the whole people is being taught from boyhood to foster hatreds and ambitions by all kinds of means — by the manufacture of half-truths and untruths in history, by persistent misrepresentation of other races and the culture of unfavourable sentiments towards them, by setting up memorials of events, very often false, which for the sake of humanity should be speedily forgotten, thus continually brewing evil menace towards neighbours and nations other than its own. This is poisoning the very fountainhead of humanity. It is discrediting the ideals which were born of the lives of men who were our greatest and best. It is holding up gigantic selfishness as the one universal religion for all nations of the world. We can take anything else from the hands of science, but not this elixir of moral death. Never think for a moment that the hurts you inflict upon other races will not infect you, or that the enmities you sow around your homes will be a wall of protection to you for all time to come. To imbue the minds of the whole people with an abnormal vanity of its own superiority, to teach it to take pride in its moral callousness and ill-begotten wealth, to perpetuate the humiliation of defeated nations by exhibiting trophies won from war, and using these in schools in order to breed in children's minds contempt for others, is imitating the West where she has a festering sore, whose swelling is a swelling of disease eating into its vitality.

Our food crops, which are necessary for our sustenance, are products of centuries of selection and care. But the vegetation, which we have not to transform into our lives, does not require the patient thoughts of generations. It is not easy to get rid of weeds; but it is easy, by process of neglect, to ruin your food crops and let them revert to their primitive state of wildness. Likewise the culture, which has so kindly adapted itself to your soil — so intimate with life, so human — not only needed tilling and weeding in past ages, but still needs anxious work and watching. What is merely modern — as science and methods of organization — can be transplanted; but what is vitally human has fibres so delicate, and roots so numerous and far-reaching, that it dies when moved from the soil. Therefore I am afraid of the rude pressure of the political ideals of the West upon your own. In political civilization, the state is an abstraction and the relationship of men utilitarian. Because it has no root in sentiments, it is so dangerously easy to handle. Half a century has been enough for you to master this machine; and there are men among you whose fondness for it exceeds their love for the living ideals, which were born with the birth of your nation and nursed in your centuries. It is like a child who, in the excitement of his play, imagines he likes his play-things better than his mother.

Where man is at his greatest, he is unconscious. Your civilization, whose mainspring is the bond of human relationship, has been nourished in the depth of a healthy life beyond reach of prying self-analysis. But a mere political relationship is all-conscious; it is an eruptive inflammation of aggressiveness. It has forcibly burst upon your notice. And the time has come when you have to be roused into full consciousness of the truth by which you live, so that you may not be taken unawares. The past has been God's gift to you; about the present, you must make your own choice.

So the questions you have to put to yourselves are these: 'Have we read the world wrong, and based our relation to it upon an ignorance of human nature? Is the instinct of the West right, where she builds her national welfare behind the barricade of a universal distrust of humanity?'

You must have detected a strong accent of fear whenever the West has discussed the possibility of the rise of an eastern race. The reason of it is this, that the power by whose help she thrives is an evil power; so long as it is held on her own side she can be safe, while the rest of the world trembles. The vital ambition of the present civilization of Europe is to have the exclusive possession of the devil. All her armaments and diplomacy are directed upon this one object. But these costly rituals for invocation of the evil spirit lead through a path of prosperity to the brink of cataclysm. The furies of terror, which the West has let loose upon God's world, come back to threaten herself and goad her into preparations of more and more frightfulness; this gives her no rest, and makes her forget all else but the perils that she causes to others and incurs herself. To the worship of this devil of politics she sacrifices other countries as victims. She feeds upon their dead flesh and grows fat upon it, so long as the carcasses remain fresh — but they are sure to rot at last, and the dead will take their revenge by spreading pollution far and wide and poisoning the vitality of the feeder. Japan had all her wealth of humanity, her harmony of heroism and beauty, her depth of self-control and richness of self-expression; yet the western nations felt no respect for her till she proved that the bloodhounds of Satan are not only bred in the kennels of Europe but can also be domesticated in Japan and fed with man's miseries. They admit Japan's equality with themselves only when they know that Japan also possesses the key to open the floodgate of hell-fire upon the fair earth whenever she chooses, and can dance in their own measure the devil dance of pillage, murder and ravishment of innocent women, while the world goes to ruin. We know that, in the early state of man's moral immaturity, he only feels reverence for the god whose malevolence he dreads. But is this the ideal of man which we can look up to with pride: after centuries of civilization nations fearing each other like the prowling wild beasts of the night-time; shutting their doors of hospitality; combining only for purpose of aggression or defence; hiding in their holes their trade secrets, state secrets, secrets of their armaments; making peace-offerings to each other's barking dogs with the meat which does not belong to them; holding down fallen races which struggle to stand upon their feet; with their right hands dispensing religion to weaker peoples, while robbing them with their left — is there anything in this to make us envious? Are we to bend our knees to the spirit of this nationalism, which is sowing broadcast over all the world seeds of fear, greed, suspicion, unashamed lies of its diplomacy, and unctuous lies of its profession of peace and goodwill and universal brotherhood of Man? Can our minds be free from doubt when we rush to the western market to buy this foreign product in exchange for our own inheritance? I am aware how difficult it is to know one's self; and the man who is intoxicated furiously denies his drunkenness; yet the West herself is anxiously thinking of her problems and trying experiments. But she is like a glutton, who has not the heart to give up his intemperance in eating, and fondly clings to the hope he can cure his nightmares of indigestion by medicine. Europe is not ready to give up her political inhumanity, with all the baser passions of man attendant upon it; she believes only in modification of systems, and not in change of heart.

We are willing to buy their machine-made systems, not with our hearts, but with our brains. We shall try them and build sheds for them, but not enshrine them in our homes or temples. There are races who worship the animals they kill; we can buy meat from them when we are hungry, but not the worship which goes with the killing. We must not vitiate our children's minds with the superstition that business is business, war is war, politics is politics. We must know that man's business has to be more than mere business, and so should be his war and politics. You had your own industry in Japan; how scrupulously honest and true it was, you can see by its products — by their grace and strength, their conscientiousness in details, where they can hardly be observed. But the tidal wave of falsehood has swept over your land from that part of the world where business is business, and honesty is followed merely as a best policy. Have you never felt shame when you see the trade advertisements, not only plastering the whole town with lies and exaggerations, but invading the green fields, where the peasants do their honest labour, and the hilltops, which greet the first pure light of the morning? It is so easy to dull our sense of honour and delicacy of mind with constant abrasion, while falsehoods stalk abroad with proud steps in the name of trade, politics and patriotism, that any protest against their perpetual intrusion into our lives is considered to be sentimentalism, unworthy of true manliness.

And it has come to pass that the children of those who would keep their word at the point of death, who would disdain to cheat men for vulgar profit, who even in their fight would much rather court defeat than be dishonourable, have become energetic in dealing with falsehoods and do not feel humiliated by gaining advantage from them. And this has been effected by the charm of the word 'modern'. But if undiluted utility be modern, beauty is of all ages; if mean selfishness be modern, the human ideals are no new inventions. And we must know for certain that however modern may be the proficiency which cripples man for the sake of methods and machines, it will never live to be old.

But while trying to free our minds from the arrogant claims of Europe and to help ourselves out of the quicksands of our infatuation, we may go to the other extreme and bind ourselves with a wholesale suspicion of the West. The reaction of disillusionment is just as unreal as the first shock of illusion. We must try to come to that normal state of mind by which we can clearly discern our own danger and avoid it without being unjust towards the source of that danger. There is always the natural temptation in us of wishing to pay back Europe in her own coin, and return contempt for contempt and evil for evil. But that again would be to imitate Europe in one of her worst features, which comes out in her behaviour to people whom she describes as yellow or red, brown or black. And this is a point on which we in the East have to acknowledge our guilt and own that our sin has been as great, if not greater, when we insulted humanity by treating with utter disdain and cruelty men who belonged to a particular creed, colour or caste. It is really because we are afraid of our own weakness, which allows itself to be overcome by the sight of power, that we try to substitute for it another weakness which makes itself blind to the glories of the West. When we truly know that Europe which is great and good, we can effectively save ourselves from the Europe which is mean and grasping. It is easy to be unfair in one's judgement when one is faced with human miseries — and pessimism is the result of building theories while the mind is suffering. To despair of humanity is only possible if we lose faith in truth which brings to it strength, when its defeat is greatest, and calls out new life from the depth of its destruction. We must admit that there is a living soul in the West which is struggling unobserved against the hugeness of the organizations under which men, women and children are being crushed, and whose mechanical necessities are ignoring laws that are spiritual and human — the soul whose sensibilities refuse to be dulled completely by dangerous habits of heedlessness in dealings with races for whom it lacks natural sympathy. The West could never have risen to the eminence she has reached if her strength were merely the strength of the brute or of the machine. The divine in her heart is suffering from the injuries inflicted by her hands upon the world — and from this pain of her higher nature flows the secret balm which will bring healing to these injuries. Time after time she has fought against herself and has undone the chains which with her own hands she fastened round helpless limbs; and though she forced poison down the throat of a great nation at the point of the sword for gain of money, she herself woke up to withdraw from it, to wash her hands clean again. This shows hidden springs of humanity in spots which look dead and barren. It proves that the deeper truth in her nature, which can survive such a career of cruel cowardliness, is not greed, but reverence for unselfish ideals. It would be altogether unjust, both to us and to Europe, to say that she has fascinated the modern eastern mind by the mere exhibition of her power. Through the smoke of cannons and dust of markets the light of her moral nature has shone bright, and she has brought to us the ideal of ethical freedom, whose foundation lies deeper than social conventions and whose province of activity is worldwide.

The East has instinctively felt, even through her aversion, that she has a great deal to learn from Europe, not merely about the materials of power, but about its inner source, which is of the mind and of the moral nature of man. Europe has been teaching us the higher obligations of public good above those of the family and the clan, and the sacredness of law, which makes society independent of individual caprice, secures for it continuity of progress, and guarantees justice to all men of all positions in life. Above all things Europe has held high before our minds the banner of liberty, through centuries of martyrdom and achievement — liberty of conscience, liberty of thought and action, liberty in the ideals of art and literature. And because Europe has won our deep respect, she has become so dangerous for us where she is turbulently weak and false — dangerous like poison when it is served along with our best food. There is one safety for us upon which we hope we may count, and that is that we can claim Europe herself as our ally in our resistance to her temptations and to her violent encroachments; for she has ever carried her own standard of perfection, by which we can measure her falls and gauge her degrees of failure, by which we can call her before her own tribunal and put her to shame — the shame which is the sign of the true pride of nobleness.

But our fear is that the poison may be more powerful than the food, and what is strength in her today may not be a sign of health, but the contrary; for it may be temporarily caused by the upsetting of the balance of life. Our fear is that evil has a fateful fascination when it assumes dimensions which are colossal — and though at last it is sure to lose its centre of gravity by its abnormal disproportion, the mischief which it creates before its fall may be beyond reparation.

Therefore I ask you to have the strength of faith and clarity of mind to know for certain that the lumbering structure of modern progress, riveted by the iron bolts of efficiency, which runs upon the wheels of ambition, cannot hold together for long. Collisions are certain to occur, for it has to travel upon organized lines; it is too heavy to choose its own course freely, and once it is off the rails its endless train of vehicles is dislocated. A day will come when it will fall in a heap of ruin and cause serious obstruction to the traffic of the world. Do we not see signs of this even now? Does not the voice come to us through the din of war, the shrieks of hatred, the wailings of despair, through the churning of the unspeakable filth which has been accumulating for ages in the bottom of this nationalism — the voice which cries to our soul that the tower of national selfishness, which goes by the name of patriotism, which has raised its banner of treason against heaven, must totter and fall with a crash, weighed down by its own bulk, its flag kissing the dust, its light extinguished? My brothers, when the red light of conflagration sends up its crackle of laughter to the stars, keep your faith upon those stars and not upon the fire of destruction. For when the conflagration consumes itself and dies down, leaving its memorial in ashes, the eternal light will again shine in the East — the East which has been the birthplace of the morning sun of man's history. And who knows if that day has not already dawned, and the sun not risen, in the easternmost horizon of Asia? And I offer, as did my ancestor rishis, my salutation to that sunrise of the East, which is destined once again to illumine the whole world.

I know my voice is too feeble to raise itself above the uproar of this bustling time, and it is easy for any street urchin to fling against me the epithet of 'unpractical'. It will stick to my coat-tail, never to be washed away, effectively excluding me from the consideration of all respectable persons. I know what a risk one runs from the vigorously athletic crowds in being styled an idealist in these days, when thrones have lost their dignity and prophets have become an anachronism, when the sound that drowns all voices is the noise of the market-place. Yet when, one day, standing on the outskirts of Yokohama town bristling with its display of modern miscellanies, I watched the sunset in your southern sea, and saw its peace and majesty among your pine-clad hills — with the great Fujiyama growing faint against the golden horizon, like a god overcome with his own radiance — the music of eternity welled up through the evening silence, and I felt that the sky and the earth and the lyrics of the dawn and the dayfall are with the poets and idealists, and not with the marketmen robustly contemptuous of all sentiment — that, after all the forgetfulness of his divinity, man will remember again that heaven is always in touch with his world, which can never be abandoned for good to the hounding wolves of the modern era, scenting human blood and howling to the skies.

Nationalism in the West

Man's history is being shaped according to the difficulties it encounters. These have offered us problems and claimed their solutions from us, the penalty of non-fulfilment being death or degradation.

These difficulties have been different in different peoples of the earth, and in the manner of our overcoming them lies our distinction.

The Scythians of the earlier period of Asiatic history had to struggle with the scarcity of their natural resources. The easiest solution that they could think of was to organize their whole population, men, women, and children, into bands of robbers. And they were irresistible to those who were chiefly engaged in the constructive work of social co-operation.

But fortunately for man the easiest path is not his truest path. If his nature were not as complex as it is, if it were as simple as that of a pack of hungry wolves, then, by this time, those hordes of marauders would have overrun the whole earth. But man, when confronted with difficulties, has to acknowledge that he is man, that he has his responsibilities to the higher faculties of his nature, by ignoring which he may achieve success that is immediate, perhaps, but that will become a death-trap to him. For what are obstacles to the lower creatures are opportunities to the higher life of man.

To India has been given her problem from the beginning of history — it is the race problem. Races ethnologically different have in this country come into close contact. This fact has been and still continues to be the most important one in our history. It is our mission to face it and prove our humanity by dealing with it in the fullest truth. Until we fulfil our mission all other benefits will be denied us.

There are other peoples in the world who have to overcome obstacles in their physical surroundings, or the menace of their powerful neighbours. They have organized their power till they are not only reasonably free from the tyranny of Nature and human neighbours, but have a surplus of it left in their hands to employ against others. But in India, our difficulties being internal, our history has been the history of continual social adjustment and not that of organized power for defence and aggression.

Neither the colourless vagueness of cosmopolitanism, nor the fierce self-idolatry of nation-worship, is the goal of human history. And India has been trying to accomplish her task through social regulation of differences on the one hand, and the spiritual recognition of unity on the other. She has made grave errors in setting up the boundary walls too rigidly between races, in perpetuating in her classifications the results of inferiority; often she has crippled her children's minds and narrowed their lives in order to fit them into her social forms, but for centuries new experiments have been made and adjustments carried out.

Her mission has been like that of a hostess who has to provide proper accommodation for numerous guests, whose habits and requirements are different from one another. This gives rise to infinite complexities whose solution depends not merely upon tactfulness but upon sympathy and true realization of the unity of man. Towards this realization have worked, from the early time of the Upanishads〔1〕 up to the present moment, a series of great spiritual teachers, whose one object has been to set at naught all differences of man by the overflow of our consciousness of God. In fact, our history has not been of the rise and fall of kingdoms, of fights for political supremacy. In our country records of these days have been despised and forgotten, for they in no way represent the true history of our people. Our history is that of our social life and attainment of spiritual ideals.

But we feel that our task is not yet done. The world-flood has swept over our country, new elements have been introduced, and wider adjustments are waiting to be made.

We feel this all the more because the teaching and example of the West have entirely run counter to what we think was given to India to accomplish. In the West the national machinery of commerce and politics turns out neatly compressed bales of humanity which have their use and high market value; but they are bound in iron hoops, labelled and separated off with scientific care and precision. Obviously God made man to be human, but this modern product has such marvellous square-cut finish, savouring of gigantic manufacture, that the Creator will find it difficult to recognize it as a thing of spirit and a creature made in His own divine image.

But I am anticipating. What I was about to say is this. Take it in whatever spirit you like, here is India, of about fifty centuries at least, who tried to live peacefully and think deeply, the India devoid of all politics, the India of no nations, whose one ambition has been to know this world as of soul, to live here every moment of her life in the meek spirit of adoration, in the glad consciousness of an eternal and personal relationship with it. It was upon this remote portion of humanity, childlike in its manner, with the wisdom of the old, that the Nation of the West burst in.

Through all the fights and intrigues and deceptions of her earlier history India had remained aloof. Because her homes, her fields, her temples of worship, her schools, where her teachers and students lived together in the atmosphere of simplicity and devotion and learning, her village self-government with its simple laws and peaceful administration — all these truly belonged to her. But her thrones were not her concern. They passed over her head like clouds, now tinged with purple gorgeousness, now black with the threat of thunder. Often they brought devastations in their wake, but they were like catastrophes of nature whose traces are soon forgotten.

But this time it was different. It was not a mere drift over her surface of life — drift of cavalry and foot soldiers, richly caparisoned elephants, white tents and canopies, strings of patient camels bearing the loads of royalty, bands of kettledrums and flutes, marble domes of mosques, palaces and tombs, like the bubbles of the foaming wine of extravagance; stories of treachery and loyal devotion, of changes of fortune, of dramatic surprises of fate. This time it was the Nation of the West driving its tentacles of machinery deep down into the soil.

Therefore I say to you, it is we who are called as witnesses to give evidence as to what our Nation has been to humanity. We had known the hordes of Mughals and Pathans who invaded India, but we had known them as human races, with their own religions and customs, likes and dislikes — we had never known them as a nation. We loved and hated them as the occasions arose; we fought for them and against them, talked with them in a language which was theirs as well as our own, and guided the destiny of the Empire in which we had our active share. But this time we had to deal, not with kings, not with human races, but with a nation — we, who are no nation ourselves.

Now let us, from our own experience, answer the question: what is this Nation?

A nation, in the sense of the political and economic union of a people, is that aspect which a whole population assumes when organized for a mechanical purpose. Society as such has no ulterior purpose. It is an end in itself. It is a spontaneous self-expression of man as a social being. It is a natural regulation of human relationships, so that men can develop ideals of life in co-operation with one another. It has also a political side, but this is only for a special purpose. It is for self-preservation. It is merely the side of power, not of human ideals. And in the early days it had its separate place in society, restricted to the professionals. But when with the help of science and the perfecting of organization this power begins to grow and brings in harvests of wealth, then it crosses its boundaries with amazing rapidity. For then it goads all its neighbouring societies with greed of material prosperity, and consequent mutual jealousy, and by the fear of each other's growth into powerfulness. The time comes when it can stop no longer, for the competition grows keener, organization grows vaster, and selfishness attains supremacy. Trading upon the greed and fear of man, it occupies more and more space in society, and at last becomes its ruling force.

It is just possible that you have lost through habit the consciousness that the living bonds of society are breaking up, and giving place to merely mechanical organization. But one sees signs of it everywhere. It is owing to this that war has been declared between man and woman, because the natural thread is snapping which holds them together in harmony; because man is driven to professionalism, producing wealth for himself and others, continually turning the wheel of power for his own sake or for the sake of the universal officialdom, leaving woman alone to wither and to die or to fight her own battle unaided. And thus there, where co-operation is natural, has intruded competition. The very psychology of men and women about their mutual relation is changing and becoming the psychology of the primitive fighting elements, rather than of humanity seeking its completeness through the union based upon mutual self-surrender. For the elements which have lost their living bond of reality have lost the meaning of their existence. Like gaseous particles forced into a too narrow space, they come in continual conflict with each other till they burst the very arrangement which holds them in bondage.

Then look at those who call themselves anarchists, who resent the imposition of power, in any form whatever, upon the individual. The only reason for this is that power has become too abstract — it is a scientific product made in the political laboratory of the Nation, through the dissolution of personal humanity.

And what is the meaning of these strikes in the economic world, which like the prickly shrubs in a barren soil shoot up with renewed vigour each time they are cut down? What but that the wealth-producing mechanism is incessantly growing into vast stature, out of proportion to all other needs of society, and the full reality of man is more and more crushed under its weight? This state of things inevitably gives rise to eternal feuds among the elements freed from the wholeness and wholesomeness of human ideals, and interminable economic war is waged between capital and labour. For greed of wealth and power can never have a limit, and compromise of self-interest can never attain the final spirit of reconciliation. They must go on breeding jealousy and suspicion to the end — the end which only comes through some sudden catastrophe or a spiritual rebirth.

When this organization of politics and commerce, whose other name is the Nation, becomes all-powerful at the cost of the harmony of the higher social life, then it is an evil day for humanity. When a father becomes a gambler and his obligations to his family take the secondary place in his mind, then he is no longer a man, but an automaton led by the power of greed. Then he can do things which, in his normal state of mind, he would be ashamed to do. It is the same thing with society. When it allows itself to be turned into a perfect organization of power, then there are few crimes it is unable to perpetrate, because success is the object and justification of a machine, while goodness only is the end and purpose of man. When this engine of organization begins to attain a vast size, and those who are mechanics are made into parts of the machine, then the personal man is eliminated to a phantom, everything becomes a revolution of policy carried out by the human parts of the machines, with no twinge of pity or moral responsibility. It may happen that even through this apparatus the moral nature of man tries to assert itself, but the whole series of ropes and pulleys creak and cry, the forces of the human heart become entangled among the forces of the human automaton, and only with difficulty can the moral purpose transmit itself into some tortured shape of result.

This abstract being, the Nation, is ruling India. We have seen in our country some brand of tinned food advertised as entirely made and packed without being touched by hand. This description applies to the governing of India, which is as little touched by the human hand as possible. The governors need not know our language, need not come into personal touch with us except as officials; they can aid or hinder our aspirations from a disdainful distance, they can lead us on a certain path of policy and then pull us back again with the manipulation of office red tape. The newspapers of England, in whose columns London street accidents are recorded with some decency of pathos, need take but the scantiest notice of calamities which happen in India over areas of land sometimes larger than the British Isles.

But we, who are governed, are not a mere abstraction. We, on our side, are individuals with living sensibilities. What comes to us in the shape of a mere bloodless policy may pierce into the very core of our life, may threaten the whole future of our people with a perpetual helplessness of emasculation, and yet may never touch the chord of humanity on the other side, or touch it in the most inadequately feeble manner. Such wholesale and universal acts of fearful responsibility man can never perform, with such a degree of systematic unawareness, where he is an individual human being. These only become possible where the man is represented by an octopus of abstractions, sending out its wriggling arms in all directions of space, and fixing its innumerable suckers even into the far-away future. In this reign of the nation, the governed are pursued by suspicions; and these are the suspicions of a tremendous mass of organized brain and muscle. Punishments are meted out which leave a trail of miseries across a large bleeding tract of the human heart, but these punishments are dealt by a mere abstract force in which a whole population of a distant country has lost its human personality.

I have not come here, however, to discuss the question as it affects my own country, but as it affects the future of all humanity. It is not a question of the British government, but of government by the Nation — the Nation which is the organized self-interest of a whole people, where it is least human and least spiritual. Our only intimate experience of the Nation is with the British Nation, and as far as the government by the Nation goes there are reasons to believe that it is one of the best. Then, again, we have to consider that the West is necessary to the East. We are complementary to each other because of our different outlooks upon life which have given us different aspects of truth. Therefore if it be true that the spirit of the West has come upon our fields in the guise of a storm it is nevertheless scattering living seeds that are immortal. And when in India we become able to assimilate in our life what is permanent in western civilization we shall be in a position to bring about a reconciliation of these two great worlds. Then will come to an end the one-sided dominance which is galling. What is more, we have to recognize that the history of India does not belong to one particular race but to a process of creation to which various races of the world contributed — the Dravidians and the Aryans, the ancient Greeks and the Persians, the Mohammedans of the West and those of central Asia. Now at last has come the turn of the English to become true to this history and bring to it the tribute of their life, and we neither have the right nor the power to exclude this people from the building of the destiny of India. Therefore what I say about the Nation has more to do with the history of Man than specially with that of India.

This history has come to a stage when the moral man, the complete man, is more and more giving way, almost without knowing it, to make room for the political and the commercial man, the man of the limited purpose. This process, aided by the wonderful progress in science, is assuming gigantic proportion and power, causing the upset of man's moral balance, obscuring his human side under the shadow of soulless organization. We have felt its iron grip at the root of our life, and for the sake of humanity we must stand up and give warning to all, that this nationalism is a cruel epidemic of evil that is sweeping over the human world of the present age and eating into its moral vitality.

I have a deep love and a great respect for the British race as human beings. It has produced great-hearted men, thinkers of great thoughts, doers of great deeds. It has given rise to a great literature. I know that these people love justice and freedom, and hate lies. They are clean in their minds, frank in their manners, true in their friendships; in their behaviour they are honest and reliable. The personal experience which I have had of their literary men has roused my admiration not merely for their power of thought or expression but for their chivalrous humanity. We have felt the greatness of this people as we feel the sun; but as for the Nation, it is for us a thick mist of a stilling nature covering the sun itself.

This government by the Nation is neither British nor anything else; it is an applied science and therefore more or less similar in its principles wherever it is used. It is like a hydraulic press, whose pressure is impersonal, and on that account completely effective. The amount of its power may vary in different engines. Some may even be driven by hand, thus leaving a margin of comfortable looseness in their tension, but in spirit and in method their differences are small. Our government might have been Dutch, or French, or Portuguese, and its essential features would have remained much the same as they are now. Only perhaps, in some cases, the organization might not have been so densely perfect, and therefore some shreds of the human might still have been clinging to the wreck, allowing us to deal with something which resembles our own throbbing heart.

Before the Nation came to rule over us we had other governments which were foreign, and these, like all governments, had some element of the machine in them. But the difference between them and the government by the Nation is like the difference between the hand-loom and the power-loom. In the products of the hand-loom the magic of man's living fingers finds its expression, and its hum harmonizes with the music of life. But the power-loom is relentlessly lifeless and accurate and monotonous in its production.

We must admit that during the personal government of former days there have been instances of tyranny, injustice and extortion. They caused sufferings and unrest from which we are glad to be rescued. The protection of law is not only a boon, but it is a valuable lesson to us. It is teaching us the discipline which is necessary for the stability of civilization and for continuity of progress. We are realizing through it that there is a universal standard of justice to which all men, irrespective of their caste and colour, have their equal claim.

This reign of law in our present government in India has established order in this vast land inhabited by peoples different in their races and customs. It has made it possible for these peoples to come in closer touch with one another and cultivate a communion of aspiration.

But this desire for a common bond of comradeship among the different races of India has been the work of the spirit of the West, not that of the Nation of the West. Wherever in Asia the people have received the true lesson of the West it is in spite of the western Nation. Only because Japan had been able to resist the dominance of this western Nation could she acquire the benefit of western civilization in fullest measure. Though China has been poisoned at the very spring of her moral and physical life by this Nation, her struggle to receive the best lessons of the West may yet be successful if not hindered by the Nation. It was only the other day that Persia woke up from her age-long sleep at the call of the West to be instantly trampled into stillness by the Nation. The same phenomenon prevails in this country also, where the people are hospitable, but the Nation has proved itself to be otherwise, making an eastern guest feel humiliated to stand before you as a member of the humanity of his own motherland.

In India we are suffering from this conflict between the spirit of the West and the Nation of the West. The benefit of western civilization is doled out to us in a miserly measure by the Nation, which tries to regulate the degree of nutrition as near the zero-point of vitality as possible. The portion of education allotted to us is so raggedly insufficient that it ought to outrage the sense of decency of western humanity. We have seen in these countries how the people are encouraged and trained and given every facility to fit themselves for the great movements of commerce and industry spreading over the world, while in India the only assistance we get is merely to be jeered at by the Nation for lagging behind. While depriving us of our opportunities and reducing our education to the minimum required for conducting a foreign government, this Nation pacifies its conscience by calling us names, by sedulously giving currency to the arrogant cynicism that the East is east and the West is west and never the twain shall meet. If we must believe our schoolmaster in his taunt that, after nearly two centuries of his tutelage, India not only remains unfit for self-government but unable to display originality in her intellectual attainments, must we ascribe it to something in the nature of western culture and our inherent incapacity to receive it or to the judicious niggardliness of the Nation that has taken upon itself the white man's burden of civilizing the East? That Japanese people have some qualities which we lack we may admit, but that our intellect is naturally unproductive compared to theirs we cannot accept even from them whom it is dangerous for us to contradict.

The truth is that the spirit of conflict and conquest is at the origin and in the centre of western nationalism; its basis is not social co-operation. It has evolved a perfect organization of power, but not spiritual idealism. It is like the pack of predatory creatures that must have its victims. With all its heart it cannot bear to see its hunting-grounds converted into cultivated fields. In fact, these nations are fighting among themselves for the extension of their victims and their reserve forests. Therefore the western Nation acts like a dam to check the free flow of western civilization into the country of the No-Nation. Because this civilization is the civilization of power, therefore it is exclusive; it is naturally unwilling to open its sources of power to those whom it has selected for its purposes of exploitation.

But all the same, moral law is the law of humanity, and the exclusive civilization which thrives upon others who are barred from its benefit carries its own death-sentence in its moral limitations. The slavery that it gives rise to unconsciously drains its own love of freedom dry. The helplessness with which it weighs down its world of victims exerts its force of gravitation every moment upon the power that creates it. And the greater part of the world which is being denuded of its self-sustaining life by the Nation will one day become the most terrible of all its burdens, ready to drag it down into the bottom of destruction. Whenever the Power removes all checks from its path to make its career easy, it triumphantly rides into its ultimate crash of death. Its moral brake becomes slacker every day without its knowing it, and its slippery path of ease becomes its path of doom.

Of all things in western civilization, those which this western Nation has given us in a most generous measure are law and order. While the small feeding-bottle of our education is nearly dry, and sanitation sucks its own thumb in despair, the military organization, the magisterial offices, the police, the Criminal Investigation Department, the secret spy system, attain to an abnormal girth in their waists, occupying every inch of our country. This is to maintain order. But is not this order merely a negative good? Is it not for giving people's life greater opportunities for the freedom of development? Its perfection is the perfection of an egg-shell, whose true value lies in the security it affords to the chick and its nourishment and not in the convenience it offers to the person at the breakfast table. Mere administration is unproductive; it is not creative, not being a living thing. It is a steam-roller, formidable in its weight and power, having its uses, but it does not help the soil to become fertile. When after its enormous toil it comes to offer us its boon of peace we can but murmur under our breath that 'peace is good, but not more so than life, which is God's own great boon'.

On the other hand, our former governments were woefully lacking in many of the advantages of the modern government. But because those were not the governments by the Nation, their texture was loosely woven, leaving big gaps through which our own life sent its threads and imposed its designs. I am quite sure in those days we had things that were extremely distasteful to us. But we know that when we walk barefooted upon ground strewn with gravel, our feet come gradually to adjust themselves to the caprices of the inhospitable earth; while if the tiniest particle of gravel finds its lodgement inside our shoes we can never forget and forgive its intrusion. And these shoes are the government by the Nation — it is tight, it regulates our steps with a closed-up system, within which our feet have only the slightest liberty to make their own adjustments. Therefore, when you produce your statistics to compare the number of gravels which our feet had to encounter in former days with the paucity in the present regime, they hardly touch the real point. It is not a question of the number of outside obstacles but the comparative powerlessness of the individual to cope with them. This narrowness of freedom is an evil which is more radical, not because of its quantity but because of its nature. And we cannot but acknowledge this paradox: that while the spirit of the West marches under its banner of freedom, the Nation of the West forges its iron chains of organization which are the most relentless and unbreakable that have ever been manufactured in the whole history of man.

When the humanity of India was not under the government of the Organization, the elasticity of change was great enough to encourage men of power and spirit to feel that they had their destinies in their own hands. The hope of the unexpected was never absent, and a freer play of imagination, on the part of both the governor and the governed, had its effect in the making of history. We were not confronted with a future, which was a dead white wall of granite blocks eternally guarding against the expression and extension of our own powers, the hopelessness of which lies in the reason that these powers are becoming atrophied at their very roots by the scientific process of paralysis. For every single individual in the country of the No-Nation is completely in the grip of a whole nation, whose tireless vigilance, being the vigilance of a machine, has not the human power to overlook or to discriminate. At the least pressing of its button the monster organization becomes all eyes, whose ugly stare of inquisitiveness cannot be avoided by a single person amongst the immense multitude of the ruled. At the least turn of its screw, by the fraction of an inch, the grip is tightened to the point of suffocation around every man, woman and child of a vast population, for whom no escape is imaginable in their own country or even in any country outside their own.

It is the continual and stupendous dead pressure of the inhuman upon the living human under which the modern world is groaning. Not merely the subject races, but you who live under the delusion that you are free, are every day sacrificing your freedom and humanity to this fetish of nationalism, living in the dense poisonous atmosphere of world-wide suspicion and greed and panic.

I have seen in Japan the voluntary submission of the whole people to the trimming of their minds and clipping of their freedom by their government, which through various educational agencies regulates their thoughts, manufactures their feelings, becomes suspiciously watchful when they show signs of inclining towards the spiritual, leading them through a narrow path not towards what is true but what is necessary for the complete welding of them into one uniform mass according to its own recipe. The people accept this all-pervading mental slavery with cheerfulness and pride because of their nervous desire to turn themselves into a machine of power, called the Nation, and emulate other machines in their collective worldliness.

When questioned as to the wisdom of its course, the newly converted fanatic of nationalism answers that 'so long as nations are rampant in this world we have not the option freely to develop our higher humanity. We must utilize every faculty that we possess to resist the evil by assuming it ourselves in the fullest degree. For the only brotherhood possible in the modern world is the brotherhood of hooliganism.' The recognition of the fraternal bond of love between Japan and Russia, which has lately been celebrated with an immense display of rejoicing in Japan, was not owing to any sudden recrudescence of the spirit of Christianity or of Buddhism, but it was a bond established according to the modern faith in a surer relationship of the mutual menace of bloodshedding. Yes, one cannot but acknowledge that these facts are the facts of the world of the Nation, and the only moral of it is that all the peoples of the earth should strain their physical, moral and intellectual resources to the utmost to defeat one another in the wrestling match of powerfulness. In ancient days Sparta paid all her attention to becoming powerful; she did become so by crippling her humanity, and died of the amputation.

But it is no consolation to us to know that the weakening of humanity from which the present age is suffering is not limited to the subject races, and that its ravages are even more radical because insidious and voluntary in peoples who are hypnotized into believing that they are free. This bartering of your higher aspirations of life for profit and power has been your own free choice, and I leave you there, at the wreckage of your soul, contemplating your protuberant prosperity. But will you never be called to answer for organizing the instincts of self-aggrandizement of whole peoples into perfection and calling it good? I ask you: what disaster has there ever been in the history of man, in its darkest period, like this terrible disaster of the Nation fixing its fangs deep into the naked flesh of the world, taking permanent precautions against its natural relaxation?

You, the people of the West, who have manufactured this abnormality, can you imagine the desolating despair of this haunted world of suffering man possessed by the ghastly abstraction of the organizing man? Can you put yourself into the position of the peoples, who seem to have been doomed to an eternal damnation of their own humanity, who not only must suffer continual curtailment of their manhood, but even raise their voices in paeans of praise for the benignity of a mechanical apparatus in its interminable parody of providence?

Have you not seen, since the commencement of the existence of the Nation, that the dread of it has been the one goblin-dread with which the whole world has been trembling? Wherever there is a dark corner, there is the suspicion of its secret malevolence; and people live in a perpetual distrust of their back where they have no eyes. Every sound of a footstep, every rustle of movement in the neighbourhood, sends a thrill of terror all around. And this terror is the parent of all that is base in man's nature. It makes one almost openly unashamed of inhumanity. Clever lies become matters of self-congratulation. Solemn pledges become a farce — laughable for their very solemnity. The Nation, with all its paraphernalia of power and prosperity, its flags and pious hymns, its blasphemous prayers in the churches, and the literary mock thunders of its patriotic bragging, cannot hide the fact that the Nation is the greatest evil for the Nation, that all its precautions are against it, and any new birth of its fellow in the world is always followed in its mind by the dread of a new peril. Its one wish is to trade on the feebleness of the rest of the world, like some insects that are bred in the paralysed flesh of victims kept just enough alive to make them toothsome and nutritious. Therefore it is ready to send its poisonous fluid into the vitals of the other living peoples who, not being nations, are harmless. For this the Nation has had and still has its richest pasture in Asia. Great China, rich with her ancient wisdom and social ethics, her discipline of industry and self-control, is like a whale awakening the lust of spoil in the heart of the Nation. She is already carrying in her quivering flesh harpoons sent by the unerring aim of the Nation, the creature of science and selfishness. Her pitiful attempt to shake off her traditions of humanity, her social ideals, and spend her last exhausted resources in drilling herself into modern efficiency, is thwarted at every step by the Nation. It is tightening its financial ropes around her, trying to drag her up on the shore and cut her into pieces, and then go and offer public thanksgiving to God for supporting the one existing evil and shattering the possibility of a new one. And for all this the Nation has been claiming the gratitude of history and all eternity for its exploitation, ordering its band of praise to be struck up from end to end of the world, declaring itself to be the salt of the earth, the flower of humanity, the blessing of God hurled with all His force upon the naked skulls of the world of No-Nations.

I know what your advice will be. You will say: form yourselves into a nation, and resist this encroachment of the Nation. But is this the true advice, that of a man to a man? Why should this be a necessity? I could well believe you if you had said: be more good, more just, more true in your relation to man; control your greed, make your life wholesome in its simplicity and let your consciousness of the divine in humanity be more perfect in its expression. But must you say that it is not the soul, but the machine, which is of the utmost value to ourselves, and that man's salvation depends upon his disciplining himself into a perfection of the dead rhythm of wheels and counterwheels, that machine must be pitted against machine, and nation against nation, in an endless bullfight of politics?

You say: these machines will come into an agreement for their mutual protection, based upon a conspiracy of fear. But will this federation of steam-boilers supply you with a soul, a soul which has her conscience and her God? What is to happen to that larger part of the world where fear will have no hand in restraining you? Whatever safety they now enjoy, those countries of No-Nation, from the unbridled licence of forge and hammer and turnscrew, results from the mutual jealousy of the powers. But when, instead of being numerous separate machines they become riveted into one organized gregariousness of gluttony, commercial and political, what remotest chance of hope will remain for those others, who have lived and suffered, have loved and worshipped, have thought deeply and worked with meekness, but whose only crime has been that they have not organized?

But, you say, 'That does not matter, the unfit must go to the wall — they shall die, and this is science.'

No, for the sake of your own salvation, I say, they shall live, and this is truth. It is extremely bold of me to say so, but I assert that man's world is a moral world, not because we blindly agree to believe it, but because it is so in truth which would be dangerous for us to ignore. And this moral nature of man cannot be divided into convenient compartments for its preservation. You cannot secure it for your home consumption with protective tariff walls, while in foreign parts making it enormously accommodating in its free trade of licence.

Has not this truth already come home to you now, when this cruel war has driven its claws into the vitals of Europe, when her hoard of wealth is bursting into smoke and her humanity is shattered into bits on her battlefields? You ask in amazement: what has she done to deserve this? The answer is that the West has been systematically petrifying her moral nature in order to lay a solid foundation for her gigantic abstractions of efficiency. She has all along been starving the life of the personal man into that of the professional.

In your medieval age in Europe, the simple and the natural man, with all his violent passions and desires, was engaged in trying to find out a reconciliation in the conflict between the flesh and the spirit. All through the turbulent career of her vigorous youth the temporal and the spiritual forces both acted strongly upon her nature, and were moulding it into completeness of moral personality. Europe owes all her greatness in humanity to that period of discipline — the discipline of the man in his human integrity.

Then came the age of intellect, of science. We all know that intellect is impersonal. Our life and our heart are one with us, but our mind can be detached from the personal man and then only can it freely move in its world of thoughts. Our intellect is an ascetic who wears no clothes, takes no food, knows no sleep, has no wishes, feels no love or hatred or pity for human limitations, who only reasons unmoved through the vicissitudes of life. It burrows to the roots of things, because it has no personal concern with the thing itself. The grammarian walks straight through all poetry and goes to the root of words without obstruction, because he is seeking not reality, but law When he finds the law, he is able to teach people how to master words. This is a power — the power which fulfils some special usefulness, some particular need of man.

Reality is the harmony which gives to the component parts of a thing the equilibrium of the whole. You break it, and have in your hands the nomadic atoms fighting against one another, therefore unmeaning. Those who covet power try to get mastery of these aboriginal fighting elements, and through some narrow channels force them into some violent service for some particular needs of man.

This satisfaction of man's needs is a great thing. It gives him freedom in the material world. It confers on him the benefit of a greater range of time and space. He can do things in a shorter time and occupies a larger space with more thoroughness of advantage. Therefore he can easily outstrip those who live in a world of a slower time and of space less fully occupied.

This progress of power attains more and more rapidity of pace. And, for the reason that it is a detached part of man, it soon outruns the complete humanity. The moral man remains behind, because it has to deal with the whole reality, not merely with the law of things, which is impersonal and therefore abstract.

Thus man, with his mental and material power far outgrowing his moral strength, is like an exaggerated giraffe whose head has suddenly shot up miles away from the rest of him, making normal communication difficult to establish. This greedy head, with its huge dental organization, has been munching all the topmost foliage of the world, but the nourishment is too late in reaching his digestive organs, and his heart is suffering from want of blood. Of this present disharmony in man's nature the West seems to have been blissfully unconscious. The enormity of its material success has diverted all its attention towards self-congratulation on its bulk. The optimism of its logic goes on basing the calculations of its good fortune upon the indefinite prolongation of its railway lines towards eternity. It is superficial enough to think that all tomorrows are merely todays, with the repeated additions of twenty-four hours. It has no fear of the chasm, which is opening wider every day, between man's ever growing storehouses and the emptiness of his hungry humanity. Logic does not know that, under the lowest bed of endless strata of wealth and comforts, earthquakes are being hatched to restore the balance of the moral world; and one day the gaping gulf of spiritual vacuity will draw into its bottom the store of things that have their eternal love for the dust.

Man in his fulness is not powerful, but perfect. Therefore, to turn him into mere power, you have to curtail his soul as much as possible. When we are fully human, we cannot fly at one another's throats; our instincts of social life, our traditions of moral ideals stand in the way. If you want me to take to butchering human beings, you must break up that wholeness of my humanity through some discipline which makes my will dead, my thoughts numb, my movements automatic, and then from the dissolution of the complex personal man will come out that abstraction, that destructive force, which has no relation to human truth, and therefore can be easily brutal or mechanical. Take away man from his natural surroundings, from the fulness of his communal life, with all its living associations of beauty and love and social obligations, and you will be able to turn him into so many fragments of a machine for the production of wealth on a gigantic scale. Turn a tree into a log and it will burn for you, but it will never bear living flowers and fruit.

This process of dehumanizing has been going on in commerce and politics. And out of the long birth-throes of mechanical energy has been born this fully developed apparatus of magnificent power and surprising appetite which has been christened in the West as the Nation. As I have hinted before, because of its quality of abstraction it has, with the greatest ease, gone far ahead of the complete moral man. And having the conscience of a ghost and the callous perfection of an automaton, it is causing disasters with which the volcanic dissipations of the youthful moon would be ashamed to be brought into comparison. As a result, the suspicion of man for man stings all the limbs of this civilization like the hairs of the nettle. Each country is casting its net of espionage into the slimy bottom of the others, fishing for their secrets, the treacherous secrets which brew in the oozy depths of diplomacy. And what is their secret service but the Nation's underground trade in kidnapping, murder and treachery and all the ugly crimes bred in the depth of rottenness? Because each Nation has its own history of thieving and lies and broken faith, therefore there can only flourish international suspicion and jealousy, and international moral shame becomes anaemic to a degree of ludicrousness. The Nation's bagpipe of righteous indignation has so changed its tune according to the variation of time and to the altered groupings of the alliances of diplomacy, that it can be enjoyed with amusement as the variety performance of the political music hall.

I am just coming from my visit to Japan, where I exhorted this young Nation to take its stand upon the higher ideals of humanity and never to follow the West in its acceptance of the organized selfishness of Nationalism as its religion, never to gloat upon the feebleness of its neighbours, never to be unscrupulous in its behaviour to the weak, where it can be gloriously mean with impunity, while turning its right cheek of brighter humanity for the kiss of admiration to those who have the power to deal it a blow. Some of the newspapers praised my utterances for their poetical qualities, while adding with a leer that it was the poetry of a defeated people. I felt they were right. Japan had been taught in a modern school the lesson how to become powerful. The schooling is done and she must enjoy the fruits of her lessons. The West in the voice of her thundering cannon had said at the door of Japan: let there be a Nation — and there was a Nation. And now that it has come into existence, why do you not feel in your heart of hearts a pure feeling of gladness and say that it is good? Why is it that I saw in an English paper an expression of bitterness at Japan's boasting of her superiority of civilization — the thing that the British, along with other nations, have been carrying on for ages without blushing? Because the idealism of selfishness must keep itself drunk with a continual dose of self-laudation. But the same vices which seem so natural and innocuous in its own life make it surprised and angry at their unpleasantness when seen in other nations. Therefore, when you see the Japanese nation, created in your own image, launched in its career of national boastfulness, you shake your head and say, it is not good. Has it not been one of the causes that raise the cry on these shores for preparedness to meet one more power of evil with a greater power of injury? Japan protests that she has her bushido, that she can never be treacherous to America to whom she owes her gratitude. But you find it difficult to believe her — for the wisdom of the Nation is not in its faith in humanity but in its complete distrust. You say to yourself that it is not with Japan of the bushido, the Japan of the moral ideals, that you have to deal — it is with the abstraction of the popular selfishness, it is with the Nation; and Nation can only trust Nation where their interests coalesce, or at least do not conflict. In fact your instinct tells you that the advent of another people into the arena of nationality makes another addition to the evil which contradicts all that is highest in Man and proves by its success that unscrupulousness is the way to prosperity — and goodness is good for the weak and God is the only remaining consolation of the defeated.

Yes, this is the logic of the Nation. And it will never heed the voice of truth and goodness. It will go on its ring-dance of moral corruption, linking steel unto steel, and machine unto machine, trampling under its tread all the sweet flowers of simple faith and the living ideals of man.

But we delude ourselves into thinking that humanity in these modern days is more to the front than ever before. The reason for this self-delusion is because man is served with the necessaries of life in greater profusion and his physical ills are being alleviated with more efficacy. But the chief part of this is done, not by moral sacrifice, but by intellectual power. In quantity it is great, but it springs from the surface and spreads over the surface. Knowledge and efficiency are powerful in their outward effect, but they are the servants of man, not the man himself. Their service is like the service in a hotel, where it is elaborate but the host is absent; it is more convenient than hospitable.

Therefore we must not forget that the scientific organizations vastly spreading in all directions are strengthening our power, but not our humanity. With the growth of power the cult of the self-worship of the Nation grows in ascendancy, and the individual willingly allows the Nation to take donkey-rides upon his back; and there happens the anomaly which must have such disastrous effects, that the individual worships with all sacrifices a god which is morally much inferior to himself. This could never have been possible if the god had been as real as the individual.

Let me give an illustration of this point. In some parts of India it has been enjoined as an act of great piety for a widow to go without food and water on a particular day every fortnight. This often leads to cruelty, unmeaning and inhuman. And yet men are not by nature cruel to such a degree. But this piety being a mere unreal abstraction completely deadens the moral sense of the individual, just as the man who would not hurt an animal unnecessarily would cause horrible suffering to a large number of innocent creatures when he drugs his feelings with the abstract idea of 'sport'! Because these ideas are creations of our intellect, because they are logical classifications, therefore they can so easily hide in their mist the personal man.

And the idea of the Nation is one of the most powerful anaesthetics that man has invented. Under the influence of its fumes the whole people can carry out its systematic programme of the most virulent self-seeking without being in the least aware of its moral perversion — in fact it can feel dangerously resentful if it is pointed out.

But can this go on indefinitely, continually producing barrenness of moral insensibility upon a large tract of our living nature? Can it escape its nemesis for ever? Has this giant power of mechanical organization no limit in this world against which it may shatter itself all the more completely because of its terrible strength and velocity? Do you believe that evil can be permanently kept in check by competition with evil, and that conference of prudence can keep the devil chained in its makeshift cage of mutual agreement?

This European war of Nations is the war of retribution. Man, the person, must protest for his very life against the heaping up of things where there should be the heart, and systems and policies where there should flow living human relationship. The time has come when, for the sake of the whole outraged world, Europe should fully know in her own person the terrible absurdity of the thing called the Nation.

The Nation has thriven long upon mutilated humanity. Men, the fairest creations of God, came out of the National manufactory in huge numbers as war-making and money-making puppets, ludicrously vain of their pitiful perfection of mechanism. Human society grew more and more into a marionette show of politicians, soldiers, manufacturers and bureaucrats, pulled by wire arrangements of wonderful efficiency.

But the apotheosis of selfishness can never make its interminable breed of hatred and greed, fear and hypocrisy, suspicion and tyranny, an end in themselves. These monsters grow into huge shapes but never into harmony. And this Nation may grow on to an unimaginable corpulence, not of a living body, but of steel and steam and office buildings, till its deformity can contain no longer its ugly voluminousness — till it begins to crack and gape, breathe gas and fire in gasps, and its death-rattles sound in cannon roars. In this war the death-throes of the Nation have commenced. Suddenly, all its mechanism going mad, it has begun the dance of the Furies, shattering its own limbs, scattering them into the dust. It is the fifth act of the tragedy of the unreal.

Those who have any faith in Man cannot but fervently hope that the tyranny of the Nation will not be restored to all its former teeth and claws, to its far-reaching iron arms and its immense inner cavity, all stomach and no heart; that man will have his new birth, in the freedom of his individuality, from the enveloping vagueness of abstraction.

The veil has been raised, and in this frightful war the West has stood face to face with her own creation, to which she had offered her soul. She must know what it truly is.

She had never let herself suspect what slow decay and decomposition were secretly going on in her moral nature, which often broke out in doctrines of scepticism, but still oftener and in still more dangerously subtle manner showed itself in her unconsciousness of the mutilation and insult that she had been inflicting upon a vast part of the world. Now she must know the truth nearer home.

And then there will come from her own children those who will break themselves free from the slavery of this illusion, this perversion of brotherhood founded upon self-seeking, those who will own themselves as God's children and as no bond-slaves of machinery, which turns souls into commodities and life into compartments, which, with its iron claws, scratches out the heart of the world and knows not what it has done.

And we of the No-Nations of the world, whose heads have been bowed to the dust, will know that this dust is more sacred than the bricks which build the pride of power. For this dust is fertile of life, and of beauty and worship. We shall thank God that we were made to wait in silence through the night of despair, had to bear the insult of the proud and the strong man's burden, yet all through it, though our hearts quaked with doubt and fear, never could we blindly believe in the salvation which machinery offered to man, but we held fast to our trust in God and the truth of the human soul. And we can still cherish the hope that, when power becomes ashamed to occupy its throne and is ready to make way for love, when the morning comes for cleansing the blood-stained steps of the Nation along the highroad of humanity, we shall be called upon to bring our own vessel of sacred water — the water of worship — to sweeten the history of man into purity, and with its sprinkling make the trampled dust of the centuries blessed with fruitfulness.

注释

〔1〕About 200 prose and verse treatises on metaphysical philosophy, dating from around 400 BC.

Nationalism in India

Our real problem in India is not political. It is social. This is a condition not only prevailing in India, but among all nations. I do not believe in an exclusive political interest. Politics in the West have dominated western ideals, and we in India are trying to imitate you. We have to remember that in Europe, where peoples had their racial unity from the beginning, and where natural resources were insufficient for the inhabitants, the civilization has naturally taken on the character of political and commercial aggressiveness. For on the one hand they had no internal complications, and on the other they had to deal with neighbours who were strong and rapacious. To have a perfect combination among themselves and a watchful attitude of animosity against others was taken as the solution of their problems. In former days they organized and plundered; in the present age the same spirit continues — and they organize and exploit the whole world.

But from the earliest beginnings of history India has had her own problem constantly before her — it is the race problem. Each nation must be conscious of its mission, and we in India must realize that we cut a poor figure when we try to be political, simply because we have not yet been finally able to accomplish what was set before us by our providence.

This problem of race unity which we have been trying to solve for so many years has likewise to be faced by you here in America. Many people in this country ask me what is happening to the caste distinctions in India. But when this question is asked me, it is usually done with a superior air. And I feel tempted to put the same question to our American critics with a slight modification: 'What have you done with the Red Indian and the Negro?' For you have not got over your attitude of caste towards them. You have used violent methods to keep aloof from other races, but until you have solved the question, here in America, you have no right to question India.

In spite of our great difficulty, however, India has done something. She has tried to make an adjustment of races, to acknowledge the real differences between them where these exist, and yet seek for some basis of unity. This basis has come through our saints, like Nanak, Kabir, Chaitanya〔1〕 and others, preaching one God to all races of India.

In finding the solution of our problem we shall have helped to solve the world problem as well. What India has been, the whole world is now. The whole world is becoming one country through scientific facility. And the moment is arriving when you must also find a basis of unity which is not political. If India can offer to the world her solution, it will be a contribution to humanity. There is only one history — the history of man. All national histories are merely chapters in the larger one. And we are content in India to suffer for such a great cause.

Each individual has his self-love. Therefore his brute instinct leads him to fight with others in the sole pursuit of his self-interest. But man has also his higher instincts of sympathy and mutual help. The people who are lacking in this higher moral power and who therefore cannot combine in fellowship with one another must perish or live in a state of degradation. Only, those peoples have survived and achieved civilization who have this spirit of co-operation strong in them. So we find that from the beginning of history men had to choose between fighting with one another and combining, between serving their own interest or the common interest of all.

In our early history, when the geographical limits of each country and also the facilities of communication were small, this problem was comparatively small in dimension. It was sufficient for men to develop their sense of unity within their area of segregation. In those days they combined among themselves and fought against others. But it was this moral spirit of combination which was the true basis of their greatness, and this fostered their art, science and religion. At that early time the most important fact that man had to take count of was the fact of the members of one particular race of men coming in close contact with one another. Those who truly grasped this fact through their higher nature made their mark in history.

The most important fact of the present age is that all the different races of men have come close together. And again we are confronted with two alternatives. The problem is whether the different groups of peoples shall go on fighting with one another or find out some true basis of reconciliation and mutual help; whether it will be interminable competition or co-operation.

I have no hesitation in saying that those who are gifted with the moral power of love and vision of spiritual unity, who have the least feeling of enmity against aliens, and the sympathetic insight to place themselves in the position of others, will be the fittest to take their permanent place in the age that is lying before us, and those who are constantly developing their instincts for fight and intolerance of aliens will be eliminated. For this is the problem before us, and we have to prove our humanity by solving it through the help of our higher nature. The gigantic organizations for hurting others and warding off their blows, for making money by dragging others back, will not help us. On the contrary, by their crushing weight, their enormous cost and their deadening effect upon living humanity, they will seriously impede our freedom in the larger life of a higher civilization.

During the evolution of the Nation the moral culture of brotherhood was limited by geographical boundaries, because at that time those boundaries were true. Now they have become imaginary lines of tradition divested of the qualities of real obstacles. So the time has come when man's moral nature must deal with this great fact with all seriousness or perish. The first impulse of this change of circumstance has been the churning up of man's baser passions of greed and cruel hatred. If this persists indefinitely, and armaments go on exaggerating themselves to unimaginable absurdities, and machines and storehouses envelop this fair earth with their dirt and smoke and ugliness, then it will end in a conflagration of suicide. Therefore man will have to exert all his power of love and clarity of vision to make another great moral adjustment which will comprehend the whole world of men and not merely the fractional groups of nationality. The call has come to every individual in the present age to prepare himself and his surroundings for this dawn of a new era, when man shall discover his soul in the spiritual unity of all human beings.

If it is given at all to the West to struggle out of these tangles of the lower slopes to the spiritual summit of humanity then I cannot but think that it is the special mission of America to fulfil this hope of God and man. You are the country of expectation, desiring something else than what is. Europe has her subtle habits of mind and her conventions. But America, as yet, has come to no conclusions. I realize how much America is untrammelled by the traditions of the past, and I can appreciate that experimentalism is a sign of America's youth. The foundation of her glory is in the future, rather than in the past, and if one is gifted with the power of clairvoyance, one will be able to love the America that is to be.

America is destined to justify western civilization to the East. Europe has lost faith in humanity, and has become distrustful and sickly. America, on the other hand, is not pessimistic or blasé. You know, as a people, that there is such a thing as a better and a best, and that knowledge drives you on. There are habits that are not merely passive but aggressively arrogant. They are not like mere walls, but are like hedges of stinging nettles. Europe has been cultivating these hedges of habits for long years, till they have grown round her dense and strong and high. The pride of her traditions has sent its roots deep into her heart. I do not wish to contend that it is unreasonable. But pride in every form breeds blindness at the end. Like all artificial stimulants its first effect is a heightening of consciousness, and then with the increasing dosage it muddles it and brings an exultation that is misleading. Europe has gradually grown hardened in her pride in all her outer and inner habits. She not only cannot forget that she is western, but she takes every opportunity to hurl this fact against others to humiliate them. This is why she is growing incapable of imparting to the East what is best in herself, and of accepting in a right spirit the wisdom that the East has stored for centuries.

In America national habits and traditions have not had time to spread their clutching roots around your hearts. You have constantly felt and complained of your disadvantages when you compared your nomadic restlessness with the settled traditions of Europe — the Europe which can show her picture of greatness to the best advantage because she can fix it against the background of the past. But in this present age of transition, when a new era of civilization is sending its trumpet-call to all peoples of the world across an unlimited future, this very freedom of detachment will enable you to accept its invitation and to achieve the goal for which Europe began her journey but lost herself mid-way. For she was tempted out of her path by her pride of power and greed of possession.

Not merely your freedom from habits of mind in individuals, but also the freedom of your history from all unclean entanglements, fits you in your career of holding the banner of civilization of the future. All the great nations of Europe have their victims in other parts of the world. This not only deadens their moral sympathy but also their intellectual sympathy, which is so necessary for the understanding of races which are different from one's own. Englishmen can never truly understand India, because their minds are not disinterested with regard to that country. If you compare England with Germany or France you will find she has produced the smallest number of scholars who have studied Indian literature and philosophy with any amount of sympathetic insight or thoroughness. This attitude of apathy and contempt is natural where the relationship is abnormal and founded upon national selfishness and pride. But your history has been disinterested, and that is why you have been able to help Japan in her lessons in western civilization, and that is why China can look upon you with the best confidence in this, her darkest period of danger. In fact you are carrying all the responsibility of a great future because you are untrammelled by the grasping miserliness of a past. Therefore, of all countries of the earth, America has to be fully conscious of this future; her vision must not be obscured and her faith in humanity must be strong with the strength of youth.

A parallelism exists between America and India — the parallelism of welding together into one body various races.

In my country we have been seeking to find out something common to all races, which will prove their real unity. No nation looking for a mere political or commercial basis of unity will find such a solution sufficient. Men of thought and power will discover the spiritual unity, will realize it, and preach it.

India has never had a real sense of nationalism. Even though from childhood I had been taught that idolatry of the Nation is almost better than reverence for God and humanity, I believe I have outgrown that teaching, and it is my conviction that my countrymen will truly gain their India by fighting against the education which teaches them that a country is greater than the ideals of humanity.

The educated Indian at present is trying to absorb some lessons from history contrary to the lessons of our ancestors. The East, in fact, is attempting to take unto itself a history, which is not the outcome of its own living. Japan, for example, thinks she is getting powerful through adopting western methods but, after she has exhausted her inheritance, only the borrowed weapons of civilization will remain to her. She will not have developed herself from within.

Europe has her past. Europe's strength therefore lies in her history. We in India must make up our minds that we cannot borrow other people's history, and that if we stifle our own we are committing suicide. When you borrow things that do not belong to your life, they only serve to crush your life.

And therefore I believe that it does India no good to compete with western civilization in its own field. But we shall be more than compensated if, in spite of the insults heaped upon us, we follow our own destiny.

There are lessons which impart information or train our minds for intellectual pursuits. These are simple and can be acquired and used with advantage. But there are others which affect our deeper nature and change our direction of life. Before we accept them and pay their value by selling our own inheritance, we must pause and think deeply. In man's history there come ages of fireworks which dazzle us by their force and movement. They laugh not only at our modest household lamps but also at the eternal stars. But let us not for that provocation be precipitate in our desire to dismiss our lamps. Let us patiently bear our present insult and realize that these fireworks have splendour but not permanence, because of the extreme explosiveness which is the cause of their power, and also of their exhaustion. They are spending a fatal quantity of energy and substance compared to their gain and production.

Anyhow, our ideals have been evolved through our own history, and even if we wished we could only make poor fireworks of them because their materials are different from yours, as is also their moral purpose. If we cherish the desire of paying our all to buy a political nationality it will be as absurd as if Switzerland had staked her existence on her ambition to build up a navy powerful enough to compete with that of England. The mistake that we make is in thinking that man's channel of greatness is only one — the one which has made itself painfully evident for the time being by its depth of insolence.

We must know for certain that there is a future before us and that future is waiting for those who are rich in moral ideals and not in mere things. And it is the privilege of man to work for fruits that are beyond his immediate reach, and to adjust his life not in slavish conformity to the examples of some present success or even to his own prudent past, limited in its aspiration, but to an infinite future bearing in its heart the ideals of our highest expectations.

We must recognize that it is providential that the West has come to India. And yet someone must show the East to the West, and convince the West that the East has her contribution to make to the history of civilization. India is no beggar of the West. And yet even though the West may think she is, I am not for thrusting off western civilization and becoming segregated in our independence. Let us have a deep association. If Providence wants England to be the channel of that communication, of that deeper association, I am willing to accept it with all humility. I have great faith in human nature, and I think the West will find its true mission. I speak bitterly of western civilization when I am conscious that it is betraying its trust and thwarting its own purpose. The West must not make herself a curse to the world by using her power for her own selfish needs but, by teaching the ignorant and helping the weak, she should save herself from the worst danger that the strong are liable to incur by making the feeble acquire power enough to resist her intrusion. And also she must not make her materialism to be the final thing, but must realize that she is doing a service in freeing the spiritual being from the tyranny of matter.

I am not against one nation in particular, but against the general idea of all nations. What is the Nation?

It is the aspect of a whole people as an organized power. This organization incessantly keeps up the insistence of the population on becoming strong and efficient. But this strenuous effort after strength and efficiency drains man's energy from his higher nature where he is self-sacrificing and creative. For thereby man's power of sacrifice is diverted from his ultimate object, which is moral, to the maintenance of this organization, which is mechanical. Yet in this he feels all the satisfaction of moral exaltation and therefore becomes supremely dangerous to humanity. He feels relieved of the urging of his conscience when he can transfer his responsibility to this machine which is the creation of his intellect and not of his complete moral personality. By this device the people which loves freedom perpetuates slavery in a large portion of the world with the comfortable feeling of pride in having done its duty; men who are naturally just can be cruelly unjust both in their act and their thought, accompanied by a feeling that they are helping the world to receive its deserts; men who are honest can blindly go on robbing others of their human rights for self-aggrandizement, all the while abusing the deprived for not deserving better treatment. We have seen in our everyday life even small organizations of business and profession produce callousness of feeling in men who are not naturally bad, and we can well imagine what a moral havoc it is causing in a world where whole peoples are furiously organizing themselves for gaining wealth and power.

Nationalism is a great menace. It is the particular thing which for years has been at the bottom of India's troubles. And inasmuch as we have been ruled and dominated by a nation that is strictly political in its attitude, we have tried to develop within ourselves, despite our inheritance from the past, a belief in our eventual political destiny.

There are different parties in India, with different ideals. Some are struggling for political independence. Others think that the time has not arrived for that, and yet believe that India should have the rights that the English colonies have. They wish to gain autonomy as far as possible.

In the beginning of the history of political agitation in India there was not the conflict between parties which there is today. At that time there was a party known as the Indian Congress;〔2〕 they had no real programme. They had a few grievances for redress by the authorities. They wanted larger representation in the Council House, and more freedom in Municipal Government. They wanted scraps of things, but they had no constructive ideal. Therefore I was lacking in enthusiasm for their methods. It was my conviction that what India most needed was constructive work coming from within herself. In this work we must take all risks and go on doing the duties which by right are ours, though in the teeth of persecution, winning moral victory at every step, by our failure and suffering. We must show those who are over us that we have in ourselves the strength of moral power, the power to suffer for truth. Where we have nothing to show, we have only to beg. It would be mischievous if the gifts we wish for were granted to us at once, and I have told my countrymen, time and again, to combine for the work of creating opportunities to give vent to our spirit of self-sacrifice, and not for the purpose of begging.

The party, however, lost power because the people soon came to realize how futile was the half policy adopted by them. The party split,〔3〕 and there arrived the Extremists, who advocated independence of action, and discarded the begging method — the easiest method of relieving one's mind from his responsibility towards his country. Their ideals were based on western history. They had no sympathy with the special problems of India. They did not recognize the patent fact that there were causes in our social organization which made the Indian incapable of coping with the alien. What should we do if, for any reason, England was driven away? We should simply be victims for other nations. The same social weaknesses would prevail. The thing we in India have to think of is this: to remove those social customs and ideals which have generated a want of self-respect and a complete dependence on those above us — a state of affairs which has been brought about entirely by the domination in India of the caste system, and the blind and lazy habit of relying upon the authority of traditions that are incongruous anachronisms in the present age.

Once again I draw your attention to the difficulties India has had to encounter and her struggle to overcome them. Her problem was the problem of the world in miniature. India is too vast in its area and too diverse in its races. It is many countries packed in one geographical receptacle. It is just the opposite of what Europe truly is; namely, one country made into many. Thus Europe in its culture and growth has had the advantage of the strength of the many as well as the strength of the one. India, on the contrary, being naturally many, yet adventitiously one, has all along suffered from the looseness of its diversity and the feebleness of its unity. A true unity is like a round globe; it rolls on, carrying its burden easily. But diversity is a many-cornered thing which has to be dragged and pushed with all force. Be it said to the credit of India that this diversity was not her own creation; she has had to accept it as a fact from the beginning of her history. In America and Australia, Europe has simplified her problem by almost exterminating the original population. Even in the present age this spirit of extermination is making itself manifest, in the inhospitable shutting out of aliens, by those who themselves were aliens in the lands they now occupy. But India tolerated difference of races from the first, and that spirit of toleration has acted all through her history.

Her caste system is the outcome of this spirit of toleration. For India has all along been trying experiments in evolving a social unity within which all the different peoples could be held together, while fully enjoying the freedom of maintaining their own differences. The tie has been as loose as possible, yet as close as the circumstances permitted. This has produced something like a United States of a social federation, whose common name is Hinduism.

India had felt that diversity of races there must be and should be, whatever may be its drawbacks, and you can never coerce nature into your narrow limits of convenience without paying one day very dearly for it. In this India was right; but what she failed to realize was that in human beings differences are not like the physical barriers of mountains, fixed for ever — they are fluid with life's flow, they are changing their courses and their shapes and volumes.

Therefore in her caste regulations India recognized differences, but not the mutability which is the law of life. In trying to avoid collisions she set up boundaries of immovable walls, thus giving to her numerous races the negative benefit of peace and order but not the positive opportunity of expansion and movement. She accepted nature where it produces diversity, but ignored it where it uses that diversity for its world-game of infinite permutations and combinations. She treated life in all truth where it is manifold, but insulted it where it is ever moving. Therefore Life departed from her social system and in its place she is worshipping with all ceremony the magnificent cage of countless compartments that she has manufactured.

The same thing happened where she tried to ward off the collisions of trade interests. She associated different trades and professions with different castes. This had the effect of allaying for good the interminable jealousy and hatred of competition — the competition which breeds cruelty and makes the atmosphere thick with lies and deception. In this also India laid all her emphasis upon the law of heredity, ignoring the law of mutation, and thus gradually reduced arts into crafts and genius into skill.

However, what western observers fail to discern is that in her caste system India in all seriousness accepted her responsibility to solve the race problem in such a manner as to avoid all friction, and yet to afford each race freedom within its boundaries. Let us admit India has not in this achieved a full measure of success. But this you must also concede: that the West, being more favourably situated as to homogeneity of races, has never given her attention to this problem, and whenever confronted with it she has tried to make it easy by ignoring it altogether. And this is the source of her anti-Asiatic agitations for depriving aliens of their right to earn their honest living on these shores. In most of your colonies you only admit them on condition of their accepting the menial positions of hewers of wood and drawers of water. Either you shut your doors against the aliens or reduce them into slavery. And this is your solution to the problem of race-conflict. Whatever may be its merits you will have to admit that it does not spring from the higher impulses of civilization, but from the lower passions of greed and hatred. You say this is human nature — and India also thought she knew human nature when she strongly barricaded her race distinctions by the fixed barriers of social gradations. But we have found out to our cost that human nature is not what it seems, but what it is in truth, which is in its infinite possibilities. And when we in our blindness insult humanity for its ragged appearance it sheds its disguise to disclose to us that we have insulted our God. The degradation which we cast upon others in our pride or self-interest degrades our own humanity — and this is the punishment which is most terrible, because we do not detect it till it is too late.

Not only in your relation with aliens but with the different sections of your own society you have not achieved harmony of reconciliation. The spirit of conflict and competition is allowed the full freedom of its reckless career. And because its genesis is the greed of wealth and power it can never come to any other end but to a violent death. In India the production of commodities was brought under the law of social adjustments. Its basis was co-operation, having for its object the perfect satisfaction of social needs. But in the West it is guided by the impulse of competition, whose end is the gain of wealth for individuals. But the individual is like the geometrical line; it is length without breadth. It has not got the depth to be able to hold anything permanently. Therefore its greed or gain can never come to finality. In its lengthening process of growth it can cross other lines and cause entanglements, but will ever go on missing the ideal of completeness in its thinness of isolation.

In all our physical appetites we recognize a limit. We know that to exceed that limit is to exceed the limit of health. But has this lust for wealth and power no bounds beyond which is death's dominion? In these national carnivals of materialism are not the western peoples spending most of their vital energy in merely producing things and neglecting the creation of ideals? And can a civilization ignore the law of moral health and go on in its endless process of inflation by gorging upon material things? Man in his social ideals naturally tries to regulate his appetites, subordinating them to the higher purpose of his nature. But in the economic world our appetites follow no other restrictions but those of supply and demand which can be artificially fostered, affording individuals opportunities for indulgence in an endless feast of grossness. In India our social instincts imposed restrictions upon our appetites — maybe it went to the extreme of repression — but in the West the spirit of economic organization with no moral purpose goads the people into the perpetual pursuit of wealth; but has this no wholesome limit?

The ideals that strive to take form in social institutions have two objects. One is to regulate our passions and appetites for the harmonious development of man, and the other is to help him to cultivate disinterested love for his fellow-creatures. Therefore society is the expression of those moral and spiritual aspirations of man which belong to his higher nature.

Our food is creative, it builds our body; but not so wine, which stimulates. Our social ideals create the human world, but when our mind is diverted from them to greed of power then in that state of intoxication we live in a world of abnormality where our strength is not health and our liberty is not freedom. Therefore political freedom does not give us freedom when our mind is not free. An automobile does not create freedom of movement, because it is a mere machine. When I myself am free I can use the automobile for the purpose of my freedom.

We must never forget in the present day that those people who have got their political freedom are not necessarily free; they are merely powerful. The passions which are unbridled in them are creating huge organizations of slavery in the disguise of freedom. Those who have made the gain of money their highest end are unconsciously selling their life and soul to rich persons or to the combinations that represent money. Those who are enamoured of their political power and gloat over their extension of dominion over foreign races gradually surrender their own freedom and humanity to the organizations necessary for holding other peoples in slavery. In the so-called free countries the majority of the people are not free; they are driven by the minority to a goal which is not even known to them. This becomes possible only because people do not acknowledge moral and spiritual freedom as their object. They create huge eddies with their passions, and they feel dizzily inebriated with the mere velocity of their whirling movement, taking that to be freedom. But the doom which is waiting to overtake them is as certain as death — for man's truth is moral truth and his emancipation is in the spiritual life.

The general opinion of the majority of the present-day nationalists in India is that we have come to a final completeness in our social and spiritual ideals, the task of the constructive work of society having been done several thousand years before we were born, and that now we are free to employ all our activities in the political direction. We never dream of blaming our social inadequacy as the origin of our present helplessness, for we have accepted as the creed of our nationalism that this social system has been perfected for all time to come by our ancestors, who had the superhuman vision of all eternity and supernatural power for making infinite provision for future ages. Therefore, for all our miseries and shortcomings, we hold responsible the historical surprises that burst upon us from outside. This is the reason why we think that our one task is to build a political miracle of freedom upon the quicksand of social slavery. In fact we want to dam up the true course of our own historical stream, and only borrow power from the sources of other peoples' history.

Those of us in India who have come under the delusion that mere political freedom will make us free have accepted their lessons from the West as the gospel truth and lost their faith in humanity. We must remember that whatever weakness we cherish in our society will become the source of danger in politics. The same inertia which leads us to our idolatry of dead forms in social institutions will create in our politics prison-houses with immovable walls. The narrowness of sympathy which makes it possible for us to impose upon a considerable portion of humanity the galling yoke of inferiority will assert itself in our politics in creating the tyranny of injustice.

When our nationalists talk about ideals they forget that the basis of nationalism is wanting. The very people who are upholding these ideals are themselves the most conservative in their social practice. Nationalists say, for example: look at Switzerland where, in spite of race differences, the people have solidified into a nation. Yet, remember that in Switzerland the races can mingle, they can intermarry, because they are of the same blood. In India there is no common birthright. And when we talk of western nationality we forget that the nations there do not have that physical repulsion, one for the other, that we have between different castes. Have we an instance in the whole world where a people who are not allowed to mingle their blood shed their blood for one another except by coercion or for mercenary purposes? And can we ever hope that these moral barriers against our race amalgamation will not stand in the way of our political unity?

Then again we must give full recognition to this fact that our social restrictions are still tyrannical, so much so as to make men cowards. If a man tells me that he has heterodox ideas, but that he cannot follow them because he would be socially ostracized, I excuse him for having to live a life of untruth, in order to live at all. The social habit of mind which impels us to make the life of our fellow-beings a burden to them where they differ from us even in such a thing as their choice of food, is sure to persist in our political organization and result in creating engines of coercion to crush every rational difference which is the sign of life. And tyranny will only add to the inevitable lies and hypocrisy in our political life. Is the mere name of freedom so valuable that we should be willing to sacrifice for its sake our moral freedom?

The intemperance of our habits does not immediately show its effects when we are in the vigour of our youth. But it gradually consumes that vigour, and when the period of decline sets in then we have to settle accounts and pay off our debts, which leads us to insolvency. In the West you are still able to carry your head high, though your humanity is suffering every moment from its dipsomania of organizing power. India also in the heyday of her youth could carry in her vital organs the dead weight of her social organizations stiffened to rigid perfection, but it has been fatal to her, and has produced a gradual paralysis of her living nature. And this is the reason why the educated community of India has become insensible of her social needs. They are taking the very immobility of our social structures as the sign of their perfection — and because the healthy feeling of pain is dead in the limbs of our social organism they delude themselves into thinking that it needs no ministration. Therefore they think that all their energies need their only scope in the political field. It is like a man whose legs have become shrivelled and useless, trying to delude himself that these limbs have grown still because they have attained their ultimate salvation, and all that is wrong about him is the shortness of his sticks.

So much for the social and the political regeneration of India. Now we come to her industries, and I am very often asked whether there is in India any industrial regeneration since the advent of the British government. It must be remembered that at the beginning of the British rule in India our industries were suppressed, and since then we have not met with any real help or encouragement to enable us to make a stand against the monster commercial organizations of the world. The nations have decreed that we must remain purely an agricultural people, even forgetting the use of arms for all time to come. Thus India is being turned into so many predigested morsels of food ready to be swallowed at any moment by any nation which has even the most rudimentary set of teeth in its head.

India therefore has very little outlet for her industrial originality. I personally do not believe in the unwieldy organizations of the present day. The very fact that they are ugly shows that they are in discordance with the whole creation. The vast powers of nature do not reveal their truth in hideousness, but in beauty. Beauty is the signature which the Creator stamps upon His works when He is satisfied with them. All our products that insolently ignore the laws of perfection and are unashamed in their display of ungainliness bear the perpetual weight of God's displeasure. So far as your commerce lacks the dignity of grace it is untrue. Beauty and her twin brother Truth require leisure and self-control for their growth. But the greed of gain has no time or limit to its capaciousness. Its one object is to produce and consume. It has pity neither for beautiful nature nor for living human beings. It is ruthlessly ready without a moment's hesitation to crush beauty and life out of them, moulding them into money. It is this ugly vulgarity of commerce which brought upon it the censure of contempt in our earlier days, when men had leisure to have an unclouded vision of perfection in humanity. Men in those times were rightly ashamed of the instinct of mere money-making. But in this scientific age money, by its very abnormal bulk, has won its throne. And when from its eminence of piled-up things it insults the higher instincts of man, banishing beauty and noble sentiments from its surroundings, we submit. For we in our meanness have accepted bribes from its hands and our imagination has grovelled in the dust before its immensity of flesh.

But its very unwieldiness and its endless complexities are its true signs of failure. The swimmer who is an expert does not exhibit his muscular force by violent movements, but exhibits some power which is invisible and which shows itself in perfect grace and reposefulness. The true distinction of man from animals is in his power and worth which are inner and invisible. But the present-day commercial civilization of man is not only taking too much time and space but killing time and space. Its movements are violent; its noise is discordantly loud. It is carrying its own damnation because it is trampling into distortion the humanity upon which it stands. It is strenuously turning out money at the cost of happiness. Man is reducing himself to his minimum in order to be able to make amplest room for his organizations. He is deriding his human sentiments into shame because they are apt to stand in the way of his machines.

In our mythology we have the legend that the man who performs penances for attaining immortality has to meet with temptations sent by Indra, the Lord of the Immortals. If he is lured by them he is lost. The West has been striving for centuries after its goal of immortality. Indra has sent her the temptation to try her. It is the gorgeous temptation of wealth. She has accepted it, and her civilization of humanity has lost its path in the wilderness of machinery.

This commercialism with its barbarity of ugly decorations is a terrible menace to all humanity, because it is setting up the ideal of power over that of perfection. It is making the cult of self-seeking exult in its naked shamelessness. Our nerves are more delicate than our muscles. Things that are the most precious in us are helpless as babes when we take away from them the careful protection which they claim from us for their very preciousness. Therefore, when the callous rudeness of power runs amuck in the broadway of humanity it scares away by its grossness the ideals which we have cherished with the martyrdom of centuries.

The temptation which is fatal for the strong is still more so for the weak. And I do not welcome it in our Indian life, even though it be sent by the Lord of the Immortals. Let our life be simple in its outer aspect and rich in its inner gain. Let our civilization take its firm stand upon its basis of social co-operation and not upon that of economic exploitation and conflict. How to do it in the teeth of the drainage of our lifeblood by the economic dragons is the task set before the thinkers of all oriental nations who have faith in the human soul. It is a sign of laziness and impotency to accept conditions imposed upon us by others who have other ideals than ours. We should actively try to adapt the world powers to guide our history to its own perfect end.

From the above you will know that I am not an economist. I am willing to acknowledge that there is a law of demand and supply and an infatuation of man for more things than are good for him. And yet I will persist in believing that there is such a thing as the harmony of completeness in humanity, where poverty does not take away his riches, where defeat may lead him to victory, death to immortality, and where in the compensation of Eternal Justice those who are the last may yet have their insult transmuted into a golden triumph.

注释

〔1〕Nanak (1469-1533), Kabir (1440-1518), Chaitanya (1485-1533).

〔2〕The Indian National Congress was founded in 1885.

〔3〕In 1907, at the annual session of the Indian National Congress, held at Surat.

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
现代生活的画家
欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的人生与作品
论1859年的沙龙
The Painter of Modern Life
The Life and Work of Eugène Delacroix
From The Salon of 1859
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

现代生活的画家

（英汉双语）

［法］夏尔·波德莱尔　著

［英］P. E. 夏维　英译

胡晓凯　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

现代生活的画家：英汉双语／（法）波德莱尔（Baudelaire, C.）著；胡晓凯译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3882-2

Ⅰ．①现…　Ⅱ．①波…　②胡…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②绘画评论—法国—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4:J

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2014）第000658号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2014-2193号）

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Taken from Selected Writings on Art and Literature published by Penguin Classic

This extract published in Penguin Books 2000

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world - particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling - to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published - where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages - there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear - most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca - few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer - our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas - these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas - indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series - for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

夏尔·波德莱尔（1821—1867），法国19世纪著名的诗人和文学评论家，最具影响力的现代艺术批评家之一。他被誉为“现代主义之父”，代表作包括诗集《恶之花》，散文诗集《巴黎的忧郁》、《人造天堂》，文学评论集《浪漫派的艺术》和艺术评论集《美学珍玩》等。在波德莱尔的一生中，对他影响最深的作家是美国作家埃德加·爱伦·坡，自1848年7月至其去世的十七年间，波德莱尔坚持翻译坡的作品，在本书中也能看到坡对他的影响。

提起波德莱尔，中国读者最先想到的可能是他的诗集《恶之花》。然而，令他最初闻名于巴黎文坛的并不是他的诗歌，而是他的文学评论：《论1845年的沙龙》和《论1846年的沙龙》。本书收录了他的三篇艺术评论：《现代生活的画家》、《欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的人生与作品》、《论1859年的沙龙》。

《现代生活的画家》是波德莱尔论述现代美学和现代性最为深刻、最有预见性的一部著作。“现代性”在法国十九世纪中期是一个新概念，波德莱尔是少数应用此概念的人之一。在本文中，波德莱尔用“现代性”来形容同时代的一位艺术家贡斯当丹·居伊的艺术追求。其中对贡斯当丹·居伊的赞美之词，曾引起极大争议。这篇文章也是现代艺术理论的奠基石，文中关于现代性观念的生动“寓言”影响深远。它更是典型的波德莱尔式散文，处处灵光乍现，趣味横生。

对于自己欣赏的艺术家，波德莱尔会毫无保留地大加颂扬。在《欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的人生与作品》中，波德莱尔称画家德拉克洛瓦是一位独特的艺术家，前无古人，后无来者，具有无可替代的重要性。作为《恶之花》和《巴黎的忧郁》的作者，波德莱尔厌倦安格尔的“古典”和完美，偏爱德拉克洛瓦的“浪漫”和印象，这是很自然的，对德拉克洛瓦的褒扬也在情理之中。

在《论1859年的沙龙》中，波德莱尔批评了展览作品的平庸，他认为，“想象力变得不可信，高贵受到蔑视，一味追求技巧”是艺术家水准下降的主要原因。对于波德莱尔来说，艺术创造的基础是想象。艺术的想象是“才能的王后”。想象是一个神圣的功能，它能够立刻察觉到世界中特定的隐藏关系，能够补充自然的不足。在“现代大众与摄影”一篇中，他写道，“我们对‘真’的品味，压迫并扼杀了对‘美’的品味”，摄影出现了，它闯入艺术的领域，成为后者的死敌。摄影一旦“侵犯了无形和想象的领域，侵犯了任何只是因为人们将灵魂投入其中才获得价值的事物，我们就该倒霉了”。再一次阐述了想象力对于艺术至关重要的观点。

波德莱尔一直坚持油画与雕塑评论的写作，直到生命的最后时刻。但是，他一直没有对艺术进行过系统的研究，与之相关的文章也不过是一些偶然的片段。它们或是对展览（当时被称为沙龙）的评价，或是对个体艺术家的讨论。尽管存在这些缺陷，波德莱尔的艺术思想是必须引起重视的，特别是在“现代艺术”方面，因为他引领了新时代的到来。

现代生活的画家

一、美、时尚和幸福

在所有社交圈，甚至在艺术圈中，都不乏这样的人，他们进入卢浮宫，从许多虽非一流但最有意思的画作前快步走过，不屑一顾，然后出神地站在一幅因成为雕塑作品而家喻户晓的提香〔1〕或者拉斐尔〔2〕的作品前，而后心满意足地离开，不止一位心中暗想：“这座美术馆我已了然于心了。”还有一些人，读过波舒哀〔3〕和拉辛〔4〕的一两本书，就自以为对文学史了如指掌了。

幸好不时有一些好打抱不平之人，出现在批评家、艺术收藏家、艺术爱好者和好奇之士中，宣称我们无法只从拉斐尔或拉辛的作品中得到全部；小诗人也值得我们欣赏，他们也创作了一些有分量、令人愉悦的事物；最后，不管我们多么热爱一般的美，即第一流的诗人和艺术家所传达出的美，如果忽视特殊的美、应时之美和风俗特色，便是犯了错误。

必须承认，这些年来，社会在这方面有了一定进步。今天的收藏家开始追捧上世纪的一些讨人喜欢的彩色雕塑作品，显示出潮流已经转向大众所需要的一个方向。第伯柯尔特〔5〕和圣·欧邦〔6〕等人的名字，也列入值得研究的艺术家的词典中。但这些代表的都是过去，而我此时要讨论的是反映我们当代社会生活的绘画作品。过去是有趣的，不仅在于今天的艺术家能从中汲取美感，而且在于它本身的历史价值。同样的说法也适用于“现在”。我们从当代绘画作品中得到的愉悦，不仅来自它传达出的美感，还来自它作为“现在”的本质特征。

现在，我面前有一套时装图样，最早的是大革命时期的，最近的大约是执政府统治时期的。这些服装具有艺术和历史的双重魅力；尽管在许多愚笨之人，那种貌似深沉实无深度的人看来，它们是非常可笑的。在画作中它们经常被表现得漂亮和巧妙，而在我看来至少同样重要的是，在所有或几乎所有图样中，我欣喜地发现了一种时代的道德态度和美学价值。人们自创的审美观，影响了他的整个服装，衣领的或皱褶或硬挺，身姿的或弯曲或笔挺，随着时间推移，甚至微妙地改变了他的面部特征。人们最后看起来像他理想化的自我形象。这些图样可以被表现得美，也可以被表现得丑。表现得丑，就成为漫画；表现得美，则成了古典雕像。

穿着这些服装的女人看不出明显区别，不同的只是她们面部呈现出的或雅或俗的程度。这有生命的物质让原本僵硬的画面变得柔和起来。即使在今天，观者依然可以想象，一个男人穿着这件束腰外衣在走路，一个女人在那件披肩下耸肩。今天，也许某个剧院会上演这么一幕，我们的祖先穿着那时最时尚的服装，觉得自己魅力四射，正如我们今天穿着自己简约时尚的服装（当然也有它们的魅力，但更多是一种道德和精神上的魅力）所感受到的那样。如果它们被有悟性的演员穿上，赋予了生命力，我们会讶异自己曾经轻率地嘲笑它们。过去如保留着它幽灵的动人之处，会重获生命的光影和运动，成为现在。

如果一位头脑客观的人纵观从法国起源到今天的时尚历史，他会发现没有什么值得震惊甚至惊讶的。他会发现时尚的过渡总是经过充分准备，如同动物界的进化一般。没有鸿沟，所以没有惊讶。如果对于代表每个时代的画，要有点哲学的冥想，比如，这个时代主要关注什么，被什么问题困扰，或者这幅画反映出什么，他就会看到，历史的所有分支里有着多么深沉的和谐，即使在我们看来最残暴、最混乱的历史时期，人们对美的渴求也总是能得到满足。

现在，我们正面临一个绝好的机会，建立一套理性和历史的美学理论。与唯一和绝对的美学理论相对，它认为美总是不可避免地由两个要素构成，尽管貌似是由单一要素构成的；构成美的可变要素共同传达出了一个美的统一印象，分辨它们固然困难，但决不能因此否定美在构成上的多样性这一事实。一方面，美包含一种永恒和不变的要素，尽管很难说清它占多大比重；另一方面，美包含一种相对变动的因素，我们可以视情况或同时地称之为同时代性、时尚、道德性、激情。这后一个因素如同一块美味蛋糕上令人垂涎的糖衣，如果没有它，前一个因素将会难以消化、淡而无味、与人性龃龉。我敢说，不具备这两种要素的美是找不到的。

现在举两个极端的历史阶段的例子。在神圣风格的艺术中，这种二重性是一望即知的；美的永恒因素只有在艺术家所属的宗教的允许和控制下才会显现。在我们自负地称为文明的这个时代里，美的二重性在一位高明的艺术家最不重要的作品中也同样是显而易见的；美永恒不变的部分将同时被隐匿又得到表达，如果不是借由时尚，至少是通过艺术家的个人气质。艺术的二重性是人的二重性的必然结果。如果你喜欢，可以将艺术永恒存在的那部分视作它的灵魂，而将变动不居的那部分视为艺术的身体。这就是为什么司汤达，这位鲁莽无礼、爱调侃甚至令人反感的大师（他的无礼却常常是发人深思的），在说到“美就是对幸福的期望”时，与真理如此接近。这一定义无疑有点过分，因为它将美置于无限多变的幸福理想之下；它轻率地剥夺了美的高贵品格，但也让美远离了墨守成规的学究犯的错误。

我曾经不止一次地解释过这些事情，上面几行文字对那些乐于抽象思维的人想必已足够；但我很清楚大部分法国读者对此并无多少兴趣，我自己也急于进入这个话题积极和实在的部分。

二、风俗特写

对于风俗画和描绘中产阶级生活和时尚的画作而言，最快捷廉价的技术手段显然是最好的。艺术家注入的美越多，画作的价值就越高。然而，在生活的琐屑中，在永恒事物的每日变化中，有一种运动速度，它赋予了艺术家同样的执行速度。18世纪的彩色雕刻版画在今天再次赢得青睐，正如我刚才所说；蜡笔画、线蚀铜版画、尘蚀铜版画相继向这部大部头的散见于图书馆、艺术爱好者的收藏以及最简陋的商店橱窗里的现代生活的词典贡献了它们的语汇。平版印刷术一发明，很快便被视为非常适合这一看似轻松实则艰巨的任务。我们在这一领域有着真正的巨制。加瓦尔尼〔7〕和杜米埃〔8〕的作品，被认为是对《人间喜剧》的补充，这一评价可谓恰如其分。我敢说，巴尔扎克自己也不会反对这个观点，因为这些兼具艺术家与风俗画家双重身份的人，他们本身就是具有多面素质的天才，换句话说，是有着杰出文学素养的天才，从这个意义上讲，上述评价就更加恰如其分。观察者、路人、哲学家，随便你怎么称呼他，但是，要定义这样一位艺术家，你最终还是得给他找一个定语形容词，而这个词肯定不会用来形容一位创作永恒事物或至少是带有持久性质事物的英雄和宗教题材作品的画家。有时他可能是一位诗人，更多的时候他接近于小说家或道德家；他的作品定格了短暂的一瞬，而这一瞬让人想到了永恒。每个国家，为着愉悦或者名誉，都有过这样几个人。在我们这个时代，在几个首先会想起来的人比如杜米埃和加瓦尔尼之后，我们还可以加上德维利亚〔9〕、毛林〔10〕、努玛〔11〕，他们是波旁王朝复辟时期可疑魅力的记录者，还有瓦提埃〔12〕、塔塞贺〔13〕、欧仁·拉米〔14〕，最后这位在对贵族社会的热爱上几乎像个英国人，还有特里莫雷〔15〕和特拉维埃〔16〕，这两位是贫穷和普通人生活的记录者。

三、他是艺术家、入世之人、人群中的人和孩子

今天，我想和我的读者谈一位非凡的人。他的个性强烈鲜明，达到了自足的程度，无须去寻求他人认同。他的画作没有一幅是签名的，如果签名指的是那几个容易伪造的组成名字的字母的话，太多的艺术家在他们最不负责任的画作上签下自己的大名。但是这位仁兄，他所有作品的签名就是他熠熠生辉的灵魂。看过并喜欢他作品的艺术爱好者，都会从我下面的描述中轻而易举地认出它们。M. C. G. 〔17〕喜欢混迹在人群中，喜欢隐姓埋名，谦逊也是他的独特之处。众所周知，萨克雷先生对一切与艺术沾边的事物都感兴趣，他小说里的插图都是自己亲手绘制的，某一天，他在伦敦的一份小报上谈到G先生，这让G先生大为恼火，认为是对自己的谦逊的冒犯。最近，他听说我要写文章评价他的思想和才智，不容分说地要求我隐去他的姓名，谈论他的作品时，就像是谈论某个无名氏的作品一样。我将谦卑地遵从这一古怪的请求。读者和我都可以假装G先生并不存在，我们来谈论他的素描和水彩（他对自己这些作品显示出一种贵族的不屑），就像学者面临一项任务，要评价一些偶然发现的珍贵历史文件的重要性，而这些文件的作者也许永远不为人知。为了让我彻底安心，大家要认为，我对这位艺术家奇特而神秘的秉性作出的全部评价，大都是从他的作品中看出来的，完全是富有想象力的假设、臆测或重构。

G先生已是暮年之人。据说让·雅克〔18〕是四十二岁开始写作的，可能也是在差不多的年龄，G先生对图画的世界着了迷，他的头脑里塞满了图画，于是他鼓起勇气，用墨和水彩在一张白纸上涂抹。说实话，他画画的时候像一个野蛮人，一个孩子，愤怒地责骂自己笨拙的手指和不听话的工具。我曾经看过许多他早期的涂鸦，坦白说，大多数明智的人，或者自认为明智的人，都会毫不羞愧地宣称，在这些早期默默无闻的作品中，看不到其中蕴藏的潜在天赋。今天，G先生已经无师自通，发现了这个行当所有的小秘密，他在没有帮助和建议的情况下，自学成才，成为一位有强烈个性的大师；至于他早期质朴的作品，他只是保留了那种必需的东西，为自己的丰富天赋增加令人意想不到的趣味。在偶然看到一幅自己的早期作品时，他会撕掉或者烧毁它，显示出令人忍俊不禁的羞愧和愤怒。

有整十年的时间，我一直想结识G先生，他天性喜爱旅行，四海为家。我知道，他有很长一段时间为英国一家画报工作，他早期的旅行木版画（取材于在西班牙、土耳其和克里米亚的旅行）就出现在那张画报上。从那时起，我看过许多这种取材于生活的即兴画作，我也因此能够“读到”一种对克里米亚战役的详细和日常的描述，远胜过所有其他报道。同样是在这张画报上，刊登了这位艺术家大量取材于新芭蕾和歌剧的画作，照例没有签名。在终于与他会面后，我立刻发现面前站着的不是一位艺术家，而是一位入世之人。在这个语境中，请把“艺术家”按狭义的概念来理解，而“入世之人”则以其广义的概念来理解。我所谓的“入世之人”，是指对全世界的事情都了解的人，一位理解世界，理解其所有习俗背后神秘和合理原因的人；而这里所谓的“艺术家”，指的是一位专家，他被绑在自己的调色板上，正如农奴被绑在土地上。G先生不喜欢被称为艺术家。从某种程度上说这也是有理的，不是吗？他对世界所有事情都感兴趣，他想知道、理解和评价我们这个地球上发生的一切。艺术家很少或根本不会活跃在知识分子圈子里和政治圈子里。如果他住在布雷达，对圣日耳曼郊区发生的事情便一无所知。除了两三个例外（不必指名道姓），直言不讳地说，大多数艺术家都是技能熟练的粗汉，只是手工劳动者，是乡村酒吧里有着乡巴佬头脑的谈客。他们的谈话不可避免地局限在一个狭窄的范围里，很快就会让一个入世之人，让一个宇宙的精神居民，感到厌倦。

所以，要开始理解G先生，首先要注意的一点是：好奇心可以被视为他天赋的起点。

你还记得那幅画吗？（它的确是一幅画！）它是由这个时代最强大的一支笔写下的，名为《人群中的人》〔19〕。一位康复期的病人坐在咖啡馆里，透过商店橱窗，望着来往的人群，他的思绪与周围人的思绪融为一体。他刚从死神的阴影下走出来，满怀兴奋地呼吸着生命所有的活力和味道；当他处在要忘却一切的时刻，他记起并狂热地想要记起所有一切。最后，他跑到人群中，寻找一个面孔瞬间吸引他的陌生人。好奇心已经成为一种压倒一切、无法抗拒的激情。

那么想象一位艺术家永远处于一个康复期病人的精神世界中，你就会找到了解G先生性格的钥匙。

但是康复期仿佛是回到童年。正在康复的病人就像孩子一样，最大程度地享受那种对所有事物都充满浓厚兴趣的天赋，即使是外表最不起眼的事物。如果可以，让我们通过想象力来回忆童年的我们对早晨的印象，我们会发现那与我们在一场疾病后获得的色彩生动的印象极其相似，当然前提是我们的感受力没有因病受到任何损害。孩子看待任何事物都是新鲜的；孩子总是“陶醉其中”。没有什么比孩子陶醉于形状和颜色中的感觉更接近于我们所谓的灵感。我会冒险更进一步，断言灵感与充血有某种联系，每一个崇高的思想都伴随着在大脑皮层中回响着的或多或少强劲的神经冲动。天才都有着强大的神经，孩子的神经都是脆弱的。在前者，理性的角色相当重要；在后者，感性几乎占据了全部。但是天赋不过是可以随意抓回的童年，这个孩子现在有着成人的自我表达能力，有着善于分析的头脑，能够让自己不自觉累积的经验变得井井有条。这种深刻而愉快的好奇心要表现为那种出神的目光，在狂喜中如野兽一般，每个孩子在看到一样新事物时都会有那种目光，不管这种事物是面孔还是风景、光亮、镀金、色彩、波纹绸，而服装的艺术更助长了这种狂喜。一天，我的一个朋友告诉我，他小时候，经常看父亲更衣，当他看到父亲胳臂的肌肉，呈玫瑰和黄色的肤色，还有那蓝色的网状静脉时，满心是夹杂着喜悦的惊异。外部世界的图画已经开始在他心里引起崇敬，掌控他的头脑。事物的形状让他着迷，让他为之倾倒。一种早熟的命运正崭露头角。他的命运已经注定。读者应该猜到了，今天，这个孩子已是一位著名的画家。

我刚才请求您把G先生看作一位永远处于康复期的病人；为了保持对他印象的完整，请将他也看作一个大孩子，一个每时每刻都拥有童年天赋的成人，换句话说，对这个天才而言，生活的任何一面都不曾失去锋芒。

我曾说过，我不愿把他称为纯粹的艺术家，他自己也带着一种贵族式矜持的谦恭，拒绝接受这一头衔。我愿意称他为浪荡子，这是有很多原因的：“浪荡子”这个词暗示着一种性格的典范，一种对这个世界所有道德机制的理解；但是，从另一个角度看，浪荡子渴望离群索居，而G先生有着强烈的不可满足的激情，渴望观察和感受，因而又激烈地与浪荡作风分道扬镳。圣·奥古斯丁〔20〕说，“我爱上了爱的感觉”〔21〕。“我满怀激情地热爱激情。”G先生也许会欣然附和。浪荡子是或假装是厌世者，这是一个方向，一种阶级态度。G先生痛恨厌世者。我说他拥有一种困难的本领：真诚而不至荒唐，久经世故的人懂得我的话。我愿意给予他哲学家的头衔，他有权获得这个头衔，原因不止一个；但是对肉眼可见的可变的有形事物过分热爱，让他理所当然地对构成形而上学家无形王国的事物产生反感。所以，让我们把他局限在纯粹的画面道德家的范围内吧，像拉布吕耶尔〔22〕。

人群是他的领地，就像天空对于鸟儿，水对于鱼儿一样。他的激情和职业就是融入人群中去。对于一个十足的漫游者、热情的观察者来说，生活在芸芸众生之中，在变动不居、熙来攘往、短暂和永恒之中，是一种巨大的愉悦。离开家，而又四海为家；观察世界，在世界的中心，而不为世界所见，这就是那些独立、热情、无偏见的灵魂的几桩小小的快乐，他们不会轻易屈从于语言的定义。观察者是一位微服出行的君王，在所到之处，享受着隐姓埋名之乐。他是热爱生活的人，将这个世界变成了自己的家，就像热爱女性的人，从他能发现的所有可爱女人，那些可以找到和不可能找到的女人那里创造了自己的世界；或者热爱画画的人，他们住在画在帆布上的梦幻世界中。因此，一个热爱各种生活的人，进入人群，就像进入一个巨大的电场。他，生活的热爱者，也可以被比作一面同芸芸众生一般的巨大镜子；或一个有思想的万花筒，每转动一下，就呈现出一种生活模式，呈现出它的丰富多彩，以及组成生活的所有成分所具有的流光溢彩。这是一个渴望无我境界的自我，它每时每刻都在用比永远变动不居和转瞬即逝的生活本身更生动的形象反映着自我。G先生曾在一次谈话中说过：“任何人，任何没有被一种痛彻心扉的悲伤击垮过的人，任何对人群感到厌倦的人，都是大傻瓜！大傻瓜！我鄙视他！”他说这话时目光炯炯，带着富有感染力的手势，令人难忘。

当G先生醒来，张开眼睛，看到明亮的阳光敲打着窗子，他懊恼地自语道：“多么强烈的命令！多么耀眼的光明！在过去几个小时里到处都是光明！而我却在睡梦中虚度了！无数沐浴在光明中的事物，我本可以看到却错过了！”于是他立刻出发！他凝视着生命力之河，那样的壮阔，那样的明亮。他欣赏着都市中的永恒之美和生活惊人的和谐，这种和谐神奇般地在人类自由的喧嚣之中得以保持。他凝视着这座伟大城市的风景，石头的风景，一会儿笼罩在雾中，一会儿沐浴在阳光下。他欣赏着那漂亮的马车，高傲的骏马，马夫整洁闪亮的装束，小听差熟练的动作，女人们有节奏的步伐，漂亮孩子对生活的热爱，以及像孔雀一样对自己漂亮衣服的骄傲，一句话，他热爱生活的全部。如果时尚发生转变，一件衣服的剪裁有了些许变化，缎带和丝结被玫瑰饰结取代；如果女帽变宽了，女人的发髻梳得更向下，到了颈背处；如果腰围线往上提，裙摆更大了，可以肯定，他那双如鹰般锐利的眼睛老远就会发现。一个军团列队走过，也许要开往地球尽头，林荫大道的空气中充满了军乐声，像希望一样轻盈活泼。毫无疑问，G先生已经看见，并在审视和分析这支部队的武器和军容。鞍辔、头发上阳光的闪光、乐队、坚定的面容、浓重的胡须，所有这些细节都纷乱地向他涌来，几分钟内，由此产生的诗就可能形成了。他的灵魂就这样和这支部队的灵魂发生了共鸣，这支部队向前行进，就好像是一个活着的生物，一个快乐和秩序井然的高傲形象。

夜幕降临了。这是充满魔力的时刻，闪闪烁烁的光，夜幕四合，城市的灯上了。煤气灯光映衬着夕阳的紫色背景。所有人，不论是诚实的还是不诚实的，智慧的或是不负责任的，都自言自语道：“这一天终于过去了！”好人和坏人都把思绪转向享乐，各人都忙着赶去最喜欢的老地方喝一杯遗忘之酒。而G先生会是从夕阳逗留、诗歌回响、生命搏动、音乐响起之地最后离开的那个人，任何地方，只要那里有人类的激情呈现在他的眼前，只要那里有自然之人和传统之人出现在一种古怪的美中，只要夕阳的光线照亮了“堕落的野兽”〔23〕一瞬的欢乐。“嗯，这真是充实的一天，”我们都熟悉的那种类型的读者自语道，“我们每个人一定都有足够的天赋，用同样的方式度过一天。”不！有这种观察天赋的人本就寥寥可数，有自我表达能力的人则更是少之又少。现在，当人们还在睡梦中，G先生俯在书桌上，凝视着一张纸，用与他刚才观察身边事物时相同的目光，挥舞着手中的铅笔、钢笔和画笔，把玻璃杯中的水泼向天花板，用衬衣擦笔，他是那样急不可耐，仿佛害怕那些画面会逃跑似的，虽然只身一人，他仍吵嚷不休，无情地鞭策着自己。事物在纸上得以重生，自然而又超越了自然，美又不止于美，奇特又具有一种像画者灵魂一样热情洋溢的生命。幻境从自然中提炼了出来。所有在记忆中杂乱储存的材料，都被分类、整理、融合，并经受了刻意的理想化，这种理想化出自孩子所特有的一种感受力，换句话说，是一种敏锐的、因质朴而变得神奇的感受力。

四、现代性

他就这样走啊，跑啊，永远在寻找着。寻找什么呢？我们可以确定，这个人，正如我所描述的，这个孤独而富有想象力的人，永远在人类浩瀚的荒漠漫游，他的目的比纯粹的漫游者更高尚，比追求一时的短暂欢愉更普遍。他在寻找那个难以定义的事物，我们姑且可以称之为“现代性”，因为找不到更好的词汇来表达这个概念。他的目的是，从诗歌中抽离出蕴含于其所处历史背景的时尚，从短暂中提炼出永恒。如果我们到现代画展上去，就会惊讶地发现，我们的艺术家有一个共同的倾向，即将所有主题都套上历史的外衣。几乎所有人都使用文艺复兴时期的时尚和装饰，比如大卫〔24〕用的就是罗马时期的时尚和装饰，但是大卫和其他画家有一个不同，他选择的主题都是希腊或罗马时代所特有的，所以只能用古典风格来诠释，而今天的画家选择的主题都是带有普遍性质的，适用于所有时代，而他们竟也坚持用中世纪、文艺复兴时期或东方的外衣来呈现。显然，这完全是惰性使然；因为严厉谴责这个时期一切都丑陋得令人绝望，比致力于找出隐藏于其中的神秘的美——不管它是多么贫乏和无足轻重——要方便得多。现代性是短暂的、飞逝的、偶然的；它构成艺术的一半，艺术的另一半则是永恒的、稳定的。对历史长河中的每一位画家而言，都有一种现代性的形式；流传至今的大多数名画，它们的外衣都属于其所处的时代。这些都是十分和谐的作品，因为那些服装、发型，甚至姿势、表情和微笑（每个时代都有它特有的仪态、表情、微笑）形成一个整体，充满生命力。你们没有权利蔑视这种转瞬即逝、变形频繁的元素，也不可把它弃诸一旁。如果这么做，将不可避免地跌入一种抽象和不可定义的美的空虚中，这种美就像原罪之前那个唯一的女人的美一样。如果你用另一件服装代替当时流行的服装，就会违背常理，这只在流行服饰舞会上才能被原谅。因此，18世纪的女神、仙女和苏丹的女眷，都是符合时代精神的作品。

研究历史上的大师之作无疑是学习绘画的绝好训练，但如果你的目的是理解今时今日之美，那这便是不必要的练习了。委罗内塞〔25〕和鲁本斯〔26〕画中的帷幔教不会你如何画水纹绸、高级绸缎，或者我们的纺织厂生产出的用摇摆的裙衬支撑的任何织料，又或者上浆的细布做的衬裙。这些织料的质地和纹理与古代威尼斯或者卡特琳〔27〕宫廷里的不同。另外，裙子和紧身胸衣的剪裁与过去是完全不同的，而裙褶也是新的样式，最后，今天女性的姿势、仪态给她的服装注入一种生命力和性格，同历史上的女性区别开来。简言之，为了使所有形式的现代性都值得成为古物，必须把人类生命无意中注入其中的神秘美提炼出来。G先生特别致力于的就是这样一项工作。

我说过，每个时代都有它特有的仪态、表情和姿势。这个观点可以很容易在一家大型肖像美术馆（比如凡尔赛宫）得到证实。不过它还可以扩展得更广。在我们称为民族的这个统一体中，职业、社会阶级和时代不仅将多样性带进姿势和风度中，还带进了脸部整体的线条中。如此这般的鼻子、嘴和前额，在某段时期内会成为标准，它们的长度我不打算在这里确定，但肯定是可以计算的。肖像画家对于这种观点不够熟悉，安格尔先生〔28〕的最大弱点就是想强加给每种类型的模特一种或多或少全面的提升过程，换言之，取自古典主义宝库的强制美化过程。

在此类事情上，进行先验推理将会是容易的，甚至是合理的。所谓灵魂与所谓身体之间永恒的相互关系，很好地说明了物质的或散发自精神的东西如何体现并将永远体现着由它所产生的精神。如果一位耐心、一丝不苟然而想象力贫乏的画家，被委托画今天的一位交际花，而他选择从提香或拉斐尔笔下的交际花中汲取灵感（这是一个神圣词汇），他的作品很可能会是有欺骗性、难以捉摸和理解的。研究那个时代那个类型的名作，不会让他知道今天一位交际花的姿态、目光、怪相和有生气的一面，她们在时尚词典中相继被置于不贞洁的女子、被豢养的女人、名妓等粗鄙打趣的名目下。

同样的话也适用于对士兵、浪荡子，甚至动物（如狗或马），以及组成一个时代永恒生活的所有食物的研究。谁要是在古物中研究理想的艺术、逻辑和通用方法以外的东西，谁就要倒霉！因为如果太过沉浸其中，他的头脑中就不会有现在，他就会抛弃时代带来的价值观和特权。而我们几乎所有的原创性都来自于时代打在我们感觉上的印记。读者会很容易理解，因为我可以从女人之外的无数事物上轻而易举地印证这一观点。比如，我举个极端的例子，一个海景画家，他要表现一艘现代轮船朴素而简洁的美，居然去研究古船因装饰物过多而变形的外观和巨大的船尾，以及16世纪船只复杂的帆和索具，你们对此怎么看呢？或者，你委托一位画家画一匹在盛大赛马会上一举成名的纯种骏马，而他把研究范围限制在博物馆，满足于观察画廊中凡·戴克〔29〕、布吉尼昂〔30〕或者凡·德·默伦〔31〕笔下的马，你们又将作何感想？

G先生，在天性指引下，在时代掌控下，走了一条完全不同的道路。他以观察生活开始，后来才努力学习表现生活的方法。因此他的作品有一种惊人的独创性。在这种独创性中还存有外行的、质朴的东西，成了一种服从于印象的新证据，一种对真实的恭维。对于我们大多数人来说，特别是商人，若非与他们的生意有实用联系，自然就不存在。对生活现实的幻想衰退得尤其严重。G先生不断吸收着这种幻想，他把它们满满地存在记忆中，眼睛里。

五、易于记忆的艺术

“粗野”这个词在我的笔下出现得可能过于频繁，也许让有些人认为这指的是某些没有定型的、只有观者发挥想象力才能使之变为完美的画作。这是一种严重的误解。我指的是一种不可避免的、综合的、幼稚的粗野，在一些完美的艺术（墨西哥的、埃及的或者尼尼微〔32〕的粗野）里仍然经常能看到，它来自一种从宏观上观察事物的需要，尤其是从整体效果的角度来看作品。这里不妨多说一句，许多人把一切具有综合简化的目光的画家指为“粗野”。比如，柯罗先生〔33〕，他的风景画都是描摹景物的粗线条，其结构和特色。同样的，G先生忠实地描摹事物留给自己的印象，他会本能地意识到事物最重要的特色或部分（从一个戏剧化的角度看，它们可以是达到高潮的或明亮的）或者它的主要特点，有时甚至带着有利于人类记忆的一定程度的夸张；观者的想象力转而受到这种专制代码的影响，清晰地看到这一事物给G先生造成的印象。在这种情况下，观者成为一种总是清晰的、醉人的表达的表达者。

有一个因素，大大增加了这种对日常生活的图画记录的生命力。我指的是G先生的工作习惯。他画画依赖的是记忆，而非模型，除非在有些情况下（比如克里米亚战争），他必须刻不容缓地迅速做笔记，并确定主题的基本轮廓。事实上，所有真正的美术家创作的都是来自脑海中而非自然中的画面。如果有人举出拉斐尔、华托等许多画家的精彩速写来反驳，我们的回答是，它们确实是非常详细的笔记，但永远只能是笔记而已。当一位真正的艺术家到了最终创作的阶段，模型于他更多的是一种尴尬，而非帮助。像杜米埃和G先生这样多年来习惯用他们的记忆，并在其中填满画面的人，有时甚至会发现，在模特及随之的繁复细节面前，他们的主要感官似乎受到扰乱，仿佛瘫痪了一样。

于是就有了看到一切并忘记一切的决心与记忆的功能之间的抗争，记忆获得了一种习惯，要瞬间记下主要的色调、形状和外观样式。一个能够完美地把握形式但是尤其习惯于运用记忆和想象力的艺术家，会发现自己似乎被大量细节困扰，就像一群热爱绝对平等的人愤怒地要求得到公平一样。任何公平的形式都不可避免地受到侵犯，一切和谐都被破坏了，牺牲了；大量平庸的事物被放大，大量琐屑的事物分散了注意力。艺术家越是对细节平等对待，混乱状态就越严重。不管他是近视还是远视，所有的等级和从属关系都消失了。这是当今最走红的某位作家的作品中经常出现的意外事故，而这种缺陷与大众的缺陷如此相适应，竟使他越发受追捧了。这种类比在演员的艺术中我们也可以感觉到，那种神秘、深刻的艺术在今天已经跌到颓废的混乱中了。费雷德里克·乐迈特先生用一个天才的宽宏和胆识塑造了一个角色，虽然他的演技有闪光的细节装饰，却依然是综合的、有雕塑感的。布菲先生则以近视眼或政府官僚的琐细来塑造角色。在他身上，一切都是闪闪发亮的，但一切都不特别打眼，无法在我们的记忆中占据一席之地。

因此，在G先生的作品中，最突出的有两点：第一就是一种专注和强烈的记忆力，能够让事物复活，令人浮想联翩，这记忆对每一样事物说：“拉撒路，起身吧！”〔34〕第二就是一团火，一种铅笔或画笔产生的陶醉，几乎达到癫狂的状态。这是一种恐惧，害怕走得不够快，让幽灵在综合未被提炼和抓住的时候就溜掉。这种巨大的恐惧攫住了所有伟大的艺术家，让他们内心热切地希望占有一切表达手段，这样一来，头脑的命令就不会因为手的犹豫而打折扣，最终，理想的作画过程会变得自觉和流畅，就像一个健康人的头脑在饭后发出消化食物的指令一样。G先生作画时，首先用铅笔勾出线条，标示出物体在空间中的位置。然后用颜色润出基本的布局，先轻轻着色，成为隐约的大块，随后再重新上色，一次比一次浓重。最后，用铅笔和墨水清晰地勾画出物体的轮廓。要不是亲眼所见，没人能猜出他用如此简单和基本的方法就能营造出如此惊人的效果。这种方法有一种无可比拟的优势，那就是，在几乎每一个阶段，画似乎都已完成，在观者看来已经满意了；你可以把这种技法称为缩略草图，但这是完美的草图。所有的色调都是和谐的，如果他想要增强色调，所有的色调在通向理想的完美状态的过程中都会保持它们和谐的关系。他以这种方式，带着活泼和快乐，一次可以画二十幅画，这种快乐不仅赏心悦目，对他自己来说也是有趣的；这些画作一幅幅地，数以十计、百计、千计地堆积起来。他不时会浏览一下，翻一翻，看一看，然后从中选择几幅，加深一下阴影部分，修饰一下明亮部分，给画作增加一些色饱和度。

他高度重视背景，不管它是浓墨重彩还是轻描淡写，总是有与画中人物相得益彰的特性。色调的变化和整体的和谐都严格地得到贯彻，其中显示出的天赋更多地来自天性而非后天习得。因为G先生拥有色彩画家的神秘天赋，这是一种真正的才能，后天的学习可以增强这一才能，然而却无法凭空得来。概括来说，我们这位奇特的艺术家既表现人类的举止也表现其或庄严或古怪的态度，以及人类在空间光彩夺目的爆发。

六、战争的编年史

保加利亚、土耳其、克里米亚和西班牙，这些国家的美景都曾经让G先生大饱眼福，或者说是那位我们商量好称作G先生的虚构艺术家，因为我不时会想到，为了照顾他的谦逊，我答应假装他并不存在。我曾经翻阅过那些有关东方战争的画作档案（尸横遍野的战场、辎重车、牲畜和马匹的搬运），那些充满生命悸动和兴味的场景，仿佛是直接从生活中移印下来的图画，构成一种珍贵的画面形式的要素，许多知名画家如果处于同样的环境可能会轻率地忽视。然而，在这些画家中，贺拉斯·威尔奈〔35〕先生是个例外，与其说他是一位艺术家，不如说是一位记者；G先生是一位更细腻的艺术家，跟他之间有着明显的关系，如果我们愿意只把他视为生活的档案管理员的话。我敢说，没有一张报纸，没有一份书面记录，没有一本书，在使人痛苦的细节和可怕的规模上，能够将克里米亚战争〔36〕这一伟大的史诗表现得更好。我们的目光依次掠过多瑙河岸到博斯普鲁斯海滨，刻尔松角，巴拉克拉瓦平原，因克尔曼的田野，英国人、法国人、土耳其人、皮埃蒙特人的营地，君士坦丁堡的街道，医院及各种各样庄严的宗教和军事盛典。

我记忆最深刻的一幅作品是《直布罗陀主教为斯库塔里墓地举行祝圣仪式》。画面的别致之处在于周围东方的田野和画中人物的西方仪态装束之间形成的对比，这种别致之处以一种动人、启人联想、充满梦幻的方式表现了出来。普通的士兵和军官都带着那种根深蒂固的“绅士”气质，他们无论走到天涯海角都带着那种坚毅含蓄的气质，不管是在非洲南端殖民地的兵营，还是在印度的殖民地；英国的传教士让人模糊地想到戴着帽子和领巾的引领员或股票经纪人。

另外还有一幅画，是奥马尔·帕沙在舒姆拉的宅邸。画面是土耳其的待客礼节，有烟斗和咖啡；所有客人都坐在床上，吸着和吹管一样长的烟斗，脚下放着烟锅。这就是《库尔德人在斯库塔里》，这支军队的奇怪模样让人想起蛮族入侵；另外一幅画，画的是19世纪土耳其野蛮的非正规军士兵，样子也同样古怪，他们的军官是欧洲人，来自匈牙利或者波兰，其浪荡子的外貌和士兵奇异的东方特征形成古怪的对比。

一幅宏伟巨作吸引了我的眼球，画面上是一个站立的人；那个人身材结实、精力充沛，他的表情里有沉思，有思虑，有快乐，有坚毅；他穿着过膝的高筒靴，制服藏在一件厚重宽大的大衣下，扣子一直扣到最后一颗；他的目光，透过雪茄的烟雾，投向阴森而迷茫的天际；他胳膊受了伤，吊着绷带。在画的下方，有一行铅笔字：因克尔曼战场上的康罗贝尔〔37〕，作于现场。

这个骑兵又是谁？他白色的胡须被刻画得那样刚劲有力，高昂着头，似乎在嗅着战场上可怕的诗意，而他的马，一边嗅着土地的气味，一边从成堆的尸体中间走过。这些尸体脚朝上，面孔扭曲，姿势奇怪。在画作下方的角落，有一行字：我在因克尔曼。

这个人，是巴拉圭—迪里埃先生〔38〕无疑。他正和总司令一起，在贝奇奇塔什检阅炮兵。我几乎没见过一幅比这更好的士兵肖像画，出自更大胆更有才智之手的。

在这幅画旁边，我看到一个自叙利亚之祸以来声名狼藉的名字：阿赫麦—帕夏将军，他站在营帐前，由部下簇拥着，接见欧洲官员。尽管这位将军大腹便便，但他的举止和脸上，都带着那种通常属于统治阶层的贵族气息。

在这个有趣的集子中，巴拉克拉瓦战役的场景出现过多次，分别是从不同的角度来描摹的。其中令人印象最深刻的一幅作品，是桂冠诗人阿尔弗雷德·丁尼生的英雄号角曾歌颂过的历史性骑兵冲锋：一群骑兵在炮火的浓烟中飞奔着冲向天际，背景是一带青山。

画作中不时会出现一个宗教人物，对于观众因为炮火和屠杀而变得悲伤的眼睛，这是很好的休息。在英国军队中，一位穿短褶裙的苏格兰人的别致军装很是引人注目，那是一位英国国教教士在做安息日弥撒；他面前的读经台是三面鼓，一面在上，两面在下。

单用一支笔很难将这首由上千幅画组成的广阔而复杂的诗表达出来，很难表达这几百张画的细节传递出的令人陶醉的感受；这些细节常常是令人痛苦的，并从来不是凄哀的。画上的污迹和裂口以独特的方式说明了艺术家将怎样的纷乱和喧嚣置于每日的记忆中。当傍晚来临时，邮差会将G先生的画送往伦敦，而他常常会这样委托邮差送走十多幅画在薄纸上的速写，雕工和报纸订户正在焦急等待着。

画面上有时会出现救护车，气氛是凝重、阴郁的，每张床都承载着苦痛；还有一张画的是佩拉的医院，我注意到，有两位仿佛出自勒絮埃尔〔39〕笔下的瘦长、苍白、僵直的修女，正在和一个穿着不正式的来访者谈话，这位来访者有一个古怪的说明：鄙人。现在，又是一长队畜群——骡子、驴或者马，在崎岖蜿蜒、布满战斗残骸的小道上，缓慢行走，背上挂着驮篮，里面是面色苍白、动弹不得的伤员。在广阔的雪原上，来了一群骆驼，它们挺着威严的胸，高昂着头，由鞑靼人牵着，在运送各种物资和弹药；一个战争的世界出现了，活跃、匆忙、沉默；还有营地和集市，摊着各种货物的样品，就像一个临时建成的野蛮城市。在临时搭起的棚子里，在崎岖或积雪的道路上，在峡谷间，在人群里，能看到多个国家的制服，都因为打仗而变得破烂不堪，外加的大皮袄和笨重的靴子使它走了样。

想到这些作品现在散落各处，其中一些珍贵画作被复制它们的雕工或者《伦敦画报》的编辑收藏，而没有呈送给皇帝陛下，真是颇为遗憾。我敢肯定，皇帝陛下一定很高兴看到这些关于他的士兵的画作。他们每日的活动，用了最精心的笔触描摹，从最辉煌的壮举，到生活中最琐碎平凡的事，都由这位士兵艺术家的妙手展现出来。

七、隆重典礼和盛大节日

土耳其也向我们亲爱的G先生贡献了一些绝妙的绘画题材，如拜兰节。拜兰节的景象华丽壮观，但在背景中出现了已过世的苏丹的身影，就像一轮苍白的太阳，令人厌倦；列于君王左侧的是文臣，右侧是武将。武将的首领是埃及苏丹萨义德—帕夏，他当时正身在君士坦丁堡；盛大的仪仗队伍正庄严地朝着王宫附近的一座小清真寺行进。队伍中可以看到一些土耳其官员，真真是堕落的漫画肖像，他们臃肿的身体压在胯下华丽的骏马上；还有一些巨大笨重的车子，与路易十四时期的车子如出一辙，用东方元素装饰得金碧辉煌，不时有女子好奇的目光从面纱留在眼睛处的窄缝投出；还有“第三性”（巴尔扎克的幽默用语放在这里再适合不过了，因为在这些闪烁不定的灯光下，在肥大的服装飘扬的裙裾间，在面颊、眼睛和眉毛的浓妆下，在所有这些歇斯底里、不由自主的姿势中，在飘动在腰际的长发里，你会发现很难，且不说不可能，来猜出男子特征）；最后还有风流女人（如果可以对黎凡特地区〔40〕使用风流这个词的话），通常是匈牙利、瓦拉几亚、犹太、波兰、希腊和亚美尼亚的女人，因为在一个专制政府的统治下，受压迫的民族，尤其其中受苦最深重的女人，向卖淫行业输送了最多的人。在这些女人中，有些还穿着民族服装，绣花上衣、短袖、宽大的披肩、灯笼裤、前端上翘的土耳其鞋子、条纹或饰有亮片的头巾，以及所有来自她们家乡的装饰品；另外一些女人的人数更多，她们身上打上了文明的烙印，对于一个女人来说，就是穿着有裙撑的宽大裙子，不过，也会在服饰上加一些黎凡特地区的特色，结果就是让她们看起来像是一些试图乔装打扮的巴黎女人。

G先生善于刻画各种各样的官方仪式和国家典礼，他不像有些画家，将这种工作视为报酬不菲的苦差事，在笔触运用上冷漠且有说教意味。G先生在绘画时带着一个热爱空间、远景和光线的人的全部热情，他作品中的光线，反射在制服或宫廷服装上，就像泪珠或耀眼的宝石。《雅典大教堂的独立纪念节》便是G先生这一才能的有趣例证。所有画得很小的人物在这幅作品中都各得其所，巧妙的布局使得整个画面空间更加深邃。教堂很大，装饰着庄严的帷幔。奥托国王〔41〕和王后站在台上，穿着民族传统服装，他们对服装驾驭得无比自如，好像是为了证实他们选择的诚意和展示最高贵的希腊式爱国主义。国王就像最帅气的希腊民兵一样，腰带束得紧紧的，裙褶向外扩开，带着民族浪荡作风的夸张。在国王和王后的对面，主教正向他们走来，他是一位老人，有些驼背，雪白的胡子随风飘扬，小眼睛隐藏在绿色的镜片后，整个仪态展示出一种最极致的东方式冷静。画中所有的人物都是一幅肖像，其中一个最有趣，因为其古怪的面孔一点不像希腊人，她是站在王后身旁侍奉的一个德国女人。

在G先生的作品中，经常能看到一个人物，那就是法国国王。画家以速写的方式描画出他的脸，标志性的一挥而就，而又绝不失真。有时，国王在纵马奔驰，检阅军队，陪同人员是面貌容易辨认的官员，或者国外的（欧洲、亚洲或者非洲的）国家元首，国王好像是在向他们致以巴黎的敬意。有时，国王一动不动地骑在马上，马蹄就像桌子的四条腿，稳稳地站在地上；他的左边是皇后，保持着骑马的习惯；右边是小皇太子，头戴毛皮高帽子，身姿像军人一样笔挺，骑着一匹毛发乱蓬蓬的小马，就像英国画家喜欢放在风景画中的那种四处奔跑的小马。有时，他在布洛涅森林的小径上策马而行，夹杂着尘土的光线倾泻下来，笼罩着他。还有时候，我们看到他走在圣安东尼郊区的人群中，接受民众的热情欢呼。其中有一幅水彩画，好似有一种魔力，尤其令我倾倒。画面上，皇后坐在一个装饰华丽的包厢前方，面容平静而放松；国王的身子微微前倾，似乎是想更好地观看表演；下面站着两个卫兵，身姿笔挺，几乎是虔诚地一动不动，他们漂亮的制服闪耀出舞台脚灯反射的光。在舞台完美氛围的这束光后，演员在和谐地歌唱、念白和做各种手势；在画面近处，是一个弥漫着光线的深渊，那是枝形吊灯；每一排都是塞满层层人脸的圆形空间，那是观众。

1848年的民众游行、会所和庄严场合，为G先生提供了一系列场景的主题，其中大多都发表在《伦敦画报》上。几年前，他在西班牙旅居了一段时间，这对他的天赋大有裨益，他后来创作了同样性质的一个作品系列，我曾经看到过其中几张。他经常把自己的画随意送人，或者借给他人，这常常给他带来不可挽回的损失。

八、士兵

要再次定义这位艺术家最青睐的题材，且让我们称之为生活的隆重仪式，正如它在文明世界的首都、军事庆典、骄奢淫逸的生活中所展现出的那样。我们的见证人总是准时出现在他的观察岗，那里流淌出深沉、冲动的欲望，即人心、战争、爱情、博弈的伟大河流；那里作为喜悦和哀伤之外在形式的庆典正蓬勃进行。但是，这位艺术家对军事生活、对士兵表现出非常明显的偏好，我想这种热爱不仅源于军人的灵魂所必然给他的风度和面容带来的美德和品质，也来源于他的华丽制服。保罗·德·莫莱纳〔42〕先生曾经就军队的献媚和所有政府为其军队设计的炫目制服中蕴含的道德意义，写过几页充满智慧的文字，让人读完拍手称快。G先生会很愿意在这几页纸上签上自己的名字。

前面我们谈到过每个时代特有的美的风格，我们已经注意到，每个时代都有属于自己的优雅。这同样也适用于职业；每种职业都从统治它的道德法则中获取了它的外在美。对于某些职业而言，这种美是充满能量的；而对于另外一些职业，可能带着闲适的明显标记。这可以说是性格的特征、命运的印记。士兵整体上有一种美，正如镇上的浪荡子和女人一样，各有其特征。读者也自然会接受我在此忽略了那样一些职业，从业者的肌肉由于单一的激烈劳动而扭曲，脸上也有了奴役的印记。尽管士兵经常面临突发情况，但他们从不轻易失去冷静。因此，在这种情况下，美是一种无忧无虑、尚武的气质，一种平静与无畏的奇异结合；这是一种来自于随时牺牲自我的美的形式。但是理想的军人脸上必须有一种天真的神情，因为他们和僧侣和学生一样，过的是集体生活，习惯于将日常生活压力交给一个遥远的、家长式的组织。因此，士兵们在很多事情上都像孩子一样天真，而且像孩子一样，一旦任务完成，他们很容易开心，喜欢纵情享乐。所有这些道德思考都可以从G先生的素描和水彩画中自然得来，我这么说并非夸张。在这位艺术家的作品中，没有一种军人类型是缺失的。他是带着一种高昂的兴致来作画的：年老的步兵军官，面容悲伤，臃肿的身体压在战马上；养尊处优的军事参谋，俯身凑近坐在椅子上的女士，没有丝毫局促不安，肩部造作的动作，加上他的蜂腰，从后面看，让人想起某种苗条优雅的昆虫；轻步兵和步兵，他们整个的风度展现出大无畏和自立，以及一种更强烈的个人责任感；轻骑兵悠闲自在的举止，变化无常的喜悦；技术兵隐约有着学者和学院的特征，比如炮手和工兵，这常常可以在他们不好战的装备上得到证实。这些模特身上的细微的差别都没有被忽略，都被以同样的热爱和智慧来总结和定义。

现在，我的面前正放着这样一幅画。作品传递出英雄主义的整体印象，主题是步兵纵队；也许他们是从意大利出征归来，在林荫大道上稍作停留，正接受人群的热情欢呼；也许他们刚刚完成在伦巴第的长征；我不知道，但是人们能够充分感受到的，是这些古铜色的、饱经风霜的脸上那种坚定无畏的神情，即使在休息时也显而易见。

这无疑是由纪律、同甘共苦、长期巨大的压力所造成的无畏的稳重气质，卷起的裤腿塞进绑腿中，大衣破旧褪色，全部装备也有了那种远道归来、经历了非凡冒险后的不可毁灭的面貌。这些士兵似乎真的比普通人站得更稳更坚定，也更自信。如果一直在寻找也经常发现这种美的夏雷〔43〕看到了这张画作，他一定会印象深刻。

九、浪荡子

一个有钱有闲的人，对生活中的一切感到厌倦，除了追逐快乐外别无他事；自小便养尊处优，习惯了发号施令；最终这个除了优雅别无职业的人，必然总是带着一种特别的面部表情。浪荡作风是一种不明确的社会态度，与决斗一样奇怪；它要追溯到很久以前，恺撒、喀提林〔44〕、亚西比德〔45〕曾是其光辉榜样；自从夏多布里昂〔46〕在美洲的森林和湖畔找到了它，它便广泛地传播开来。浪荡作风是法律外的一个体制，有一套所有成员都必须严格遵守的法律准则，不管他们的个人性格是如何热情和独立。

英国的小说家在这种“上流社会”类型小说的创作上做出了突出贡献，而他们的法国同行，比如古斯丁侯爵〔47〕，也试图专门从事爱情小说的创作，并非常明智地安排小说人物都是有钱人，可以毫不迟疑地满足自己最不重要的欲望，而且让他们无须从事任何职业。这些人终日只是研究如何让自己更美，满足自己的热情，感受并思考。因此，他们尽情地享受着时间和金钱，如果没有这两样，幻想只能是转瞬即逝的白日梦，不太可能转化为行动。没有闲暇和金钱，爱情不过是普通人的狂欢，或者夫妻义务的完成，很不幸，但事实确实如此。爱情将不是充满激情和幻想的突如其来的冲动，而成为一件令人厌恶的功利的事情。

我之所以在浪荡作风的题目下谈到爱情，是因为爱情是有闲之人的天然职业。但是浪荡子自己并不认为爱情是一个特殊的生活目标。如果我谈到了金钱，是因为金钱对这些视自我喜好为唯一宗教的人来说，是不可或缺的；然而，浪荡子又不将财富本身作为目标，即使有未还清的银行欠款，对他们而言也无甚不同；他将这种低劣的喜好留给了俗人。与许多没有头脑的人的想法相反，浪荡作风甚至也不是对衣服和优雅物质生活的过分热衷。对于一个完美的浪荡子来说，这些事物不过是他思想的贵族优越性的象征符号。因此，由于他最看重的是自己的卓尔不群，在他眼中，完美的衣装应绝对地朴素，而这的确是体现高雅的最佳方式。那么这种具象化为一个教义并发展了一些杰出教徒的喜好，这一塑造出如此自负的群体的不成文法典，又是什么呢？它首先是一种在社会传统的外部限制下，创造出独创性个人形式的炽热欲望。它是一种自我主义，在对一种可以从他人身上（比如女人）获得的快乐形式的追寻中仍然保持不丧失，甚至在幻觉中仍可以存在。它是一种引起他人惊奇的乐趣，一种从不显露自我的扬扬自得。浪荡子也许厌烦了享乐，他甚至也许正遭受痛苦，但是在后一种情况下，他会保持微笑，就像那个被狐狸噬咬的斯巴达人〔48〕。

显然，浪荡作风在某些方面接近于灵性和斯多葛哲学，但是浪荡子绝不可以成为俗人。他如果犯罪，也许会被社会谴责，但如果是由于琐碎小事犯下的罪，这种耻辱便是无可弥补的了。请读者不要对这种庄重与玩乐的混合感到震惊；请大家想一想，其实在所有的蠢行中都有一种高尚，每种暴行的背后都有一股驱动力。果真是灵性的奇怪形式！对于那些既是它的领袖又是受害者的人，他们所置身的所有复杂的物质条件，不管是白日和夜晚任何时候都无可挑剔的衣装，还是最冒险的体育运动，都不过是适宜于锤炼意志和训练灵魂的一系列身体锻炼而已。我把浪荡作风比作一种宗教，确实也不算大错。最严苛的修道院的纪律，强迫信徒自杀的那位山中老人〔49〕最不容变更的命令，也不比这种关乎高雅和独创性的教义更专横，更让人甘心顺从。同其他教义一样，这一教义给它雄心勃勃而又谦卑的宗派成员，通常是一些充满活力、激情、勇气、克制的能量的人，灌输一个可怕的命令：做一个行尸走肉！〔50〕

难以取悦、不可思议、花花公子、社会名流或浪荡子，无论这些人给自己贴上哪一个标签，他们都来自同一处，都具有同样的反对和叛逆的特征，都包含着人类骄傲中所包含的最优秀成分，代表着一种击退并毁灭平凡的需要（这在现代人身上已经太罕见了）。在浪荡子身上，有那种傲慢、高贵态度的源头，即使冷淡也是咄咄逼人的。浪荡作风尤其会出现在民主势力尚未发展成熟的转型期，因为这个时候，贵族只是部分被削弱和丧失名誉。在这种时代的混乱状态下，某些感到幻灭和有闲同时也充满活力的“局外人”，可能都存着建立一个新的贵族阶层的念头，因为它建立在最宝贵、最不可毁灭的能力之上，建立在工作和金钱都无法赋予的非凡天赋之上，因此也更难瓦解。浪荡作风是堕落时代里最后一星英雄主义的光芒；旅行者在北美洲发现的浪荡子典型丝毫也削弱不了上述观念的价值，因为我们称之为野蛮人的部落可能是过去伟大文明的残余，我们没有理由不相信这一点。浪荡作风是一轮落日，就像正在陨落的星辰，它是壮丽的，没有热量，充满忧伤。但是，哎呀！民族大潮涌起，到处传播，荡平一切，每天都在带走人类骄傲最后的捍卫者，遗忘之水淹没了这些杰出追随者的最后踪迹。在法国，浪荡子变得越来越少了，而在我们的邻居英国，社会和宪法（真正的宪法，在社会习惯上表达出的宪法）的状况还将长久地为谢立丹〔51〕、布鲁梅尔〔52〕和拜伦的继承者留有一席之地。

读者可能觉得这是题外话，其实不是。在很多情况下，一位艺术家的画作所引发的道德思考和冥想，是批评家所能给出的最好解说；它们所暗示的理念是一个隐含思想的一部分，我们渐次发现这些理念，最终也许会发现那个根本的思想。如果不是因为我们处在这个时代，绘画被普遍认为是一种消遣，那么当G先生创作一幅浪荡子的画作时，总是赋予他历史的性格，几乎可以说是他传奇的性格，这一点还需要我多说吗？当我们从人海中瞥见这样一位享有特权的人，我们一定能看到他从容的态度，举手投足间的自信，习惯发出命令的坦率，穿礼服和驭马的特有方式，在任何情况下都保持着彰显力量的平静，这些打消了我们的疑问，引人注目和令人敬畏两者在他身上神奇般地混合：“他也许是一位富人，但肯定是一个无所事事的赫拉克勒斯〔53〕。”

浪荡子的特别之美尤其体现在他的冷酷外表上，这源于他时刻保持镇定的不可动摇的决心；他让人联想起一团隐伏的火，看似是可以忽略的存在，但如果愿意，却可以喷发出耀眼的光芒，但是他并不这样做。上述所有特质在这些画作中都得到了淋漓尽致的体现。

十、女人

对于大多数男人来说，女人是最活泼甚至最持久的快乐的源泉，尽管这样说会让哲学予人的乐趣颜面扫地。男人的所有努力都是为着女人，这个令人敬畏的生物，像上帝一样不可言说（不同之处在于，“无限”不显露自我，因为它会让“有限”昏聩和毁灭；而我们所说的这个生物，她的不可言说，只是因为没有什么可说的）；约瑟夫·德·迈斯特〔54〕在女人身上看到一头美丽的动物，她的魅力推动了严肃的政治游戏，为之增辉添彩；因为她的缘故，千金敛来又散去；为了她，艺术家和诗人创作出最高超的作品，然而，其中又以女性艺术家和诗人的成就最高；她们身上流淌出最销骨蚀魂的快乐和最使人充实的痛苦——总而言之，女人，对于所有艺术家而言，特别是对于G先生而言，不只是人类中的雌性。她是女神，是明星，主宰着男人头脑里的所有思想；她集天地灵秀之气于一身；她是生活阅历能给予男人的最强烈的仰慕和兴趣所指向的目标。她是偶像，也许头脑空空，但却千娇百媚，令人心醉，顾盼流转之下，便掌控了男人的命运和意志。我要再说一遍，她不是动物，只要四肢经过正确组合，便成为和谐的完美化身；她甚至也不是雕塑家在最严肃的沉思时刻所想象的那种纯粹的美；即使那也不足以解释她神秘莫测的迷人魅力。在这个问题上温克尔曼〔55〕和拉斐尔也帮不了我们；我肯定，即使博学多识如G先生（希望这么说不会冒犯他），也决不会对一尊古代雕塑视而不见，即使他会因此失去欣赏一幅雷诺兹〔56〕和劳伦斯〔57〕肖像画的机会。女人的所有装饰，所有为她的美增色生辉的事物，都是女人的一部分；艺术家对这个谜一般的生物专门研究后，不仅会为女人倾倒，也会对女人的世界〔58〕着迷。无疑地，女人是一片光明，一道目光，一张通向幸福的请柬，有时是一句话；但是她首先是一个和谐的整体，不仅在她的仪态和举手投足间，也在她身上的细布、薄纱和大摆彩虹裙，这衣服可以说是她神圣地位的象征和支柱；这和谐还在她手臂和脖子上盘绕着的金属和宝石，既让她的双眸神采飞扬，又似在她耳边喁喁私语。当诗人描述一位美人带给他的愉悦时，他又如何能将她与她的衣装分而论之？你找不出一个男人，他在街上，在剧院，或者在林间，驻目于一件美丽的衣装，却只是超然地欣赏，最后留在脑海里的画面没有穿着这件衣服的美丽女子，因为这衣装和女子是不可分割的整体。现在似乎是时候回到关于时尚和修饰的某些问题上，在研究的开始我只是略有谈及，为的是反驳某些含糊其词的热爱自然者对服装艺术的愚蠢诋毁。

十一、赞化妆

我知道一首歌，因为太不足道，所以不敢在这个自命严肃的作品中引用它；然而，这首歌以杂耍表演的风格，非常恰如其分地表达出不习惯思考的人的美学观点：“本性装饰了美。”也许可以这样推测，一个“诗人”，如果可以恰当地驾驭语言，就会说“质朴装饰了美”，这等同于另一个完全是意料之外的真理：“存在的事物不需装饰。”

大多数关于美的错误观点源自于18世纪错误的道德观。在那时，“本性”被视为所有形式的“善”和“美”的基础、根源和原型。当时的普遍盲目很大程度上要归咎于对原罪的摒弃。但是，如果我们只打算考虑眼前的事实、所有时代的经验和《论坛报》，我们立即可以看到天性完全或几乎什么也没教给我们；换言之，它迫使人们吃喝睡觉，尽可能保护自己抵御严酷的天气。而同样也是“天性”，驱使人类自相残杀，噬食、囚禁和折磨同类；当人类脱离了求生存的窘境，开始可以追求享受和消遣，我们看到天性只是想到犯罪。就是这个所谓绝无谬误的天性，导致了弑亲和食人等千百种劣行，为谨慎和好意起见，我们在此不一一列举了。是哲学（我指的是正确的那种）和宗教教导我们照顾年迈可怜的父母。天性（不过是利己主义内心的声音）却让我们把他们打死。审视、分析一切天然的事物，一个完全“天然”之人的所有行动和欲望，你会发现无一处不恐怖。所有的美和高贵都是理智和周密思考的结果。犯罪从源头上是“天然”的，人类这种动物在母亲的子宫里就爱上了犯罪。另一方面，美德却是“人为的”、超自然的，因为在每个时代，每个国家，上帝和预言家都曾是必要的，因为他们将美德教给野蛮的人类，也因为人类无法靠自己发现美德。罪恶不需费力就能完成，这是“自然的”，它是命运的安排；善总是人工的产物。我把自然说成是道德方面的坏顾问，理性是救赎和改革的真正力量，都可以转移到美的范围中去。这也使得我将装饰视为人类灵魂原始高贵性的一个标志。被我们这个混乱而堕落的文明带着可笑的傲慢和自命不凡称为“野蛮人”的民族，却和孩子一样，能够欣赏衣服的高度精神特质。野蛮人和婴儿，他们对不同颜色的鲜艳羽毛，对闪闪发亮的织料，对人工形状的极度高贵表现出天真的喜爱，从而显示出对真实的厌恶，这不自觉地证明了他们灵魂的非物质性。如果有人像路易十五（远不是一个真正文明的结果，而是野蛮状态重归的结果），堕落到只欣赏未经修饰的自然的地步，那就悲哀了。〔59〕

因此，时尚必须被视为一种理想典范的品味的征象，它超越生活根据自然累积的粗野、鄙陋和令人厌恶的事物，被视为一种对自然的高尚变形，或者一种改造自然的持久且不断更新的努力。因为这个原因，有人曾明智地评价（尽管没有发现原因），所有时尚皆迷人，或者相对迷人，都是通向美的或多或少成功的努力，一种对理想的近似表现，一种不断缠绕着未得到满足的人类思想的欲望。但是，如果我们要很好地欣赏时尚，就一定不能把它视作僵死的事物，相反，我们要学会欣赏二手衣服店的衣橱里挂着的许多没有生气、一动不动，就像是圣巴多罗买〔60〕的皮的老衣服。我们必须想象这些衣服如曾经穿着它们的美丽女人那样充满活力和生命力。只有那样我们才能赋予它们意义和价值。如果你认为“所有时尚皆迷人”这句格言太过绝对，那可以改为，所有时尚在各自的时代都有其合理的迷人之处，这样就一点问题都没有了。

女人化妆完全是一种正当权利，我们甚至可以说，她们是在履行一种义务，致力于让自己的外表笼罩在一种迷人的、超自然的氛围中。她虽然是偶像，但也必须装扮自己以赢得青睐。所以，她必得从各类艺术中借来超越自然的手段，以更好地征服男人的心，在他们的脑海里留下深刻印象。这些计策和手段，如果成功是肯定的，效果是让男人无法抵御的，那它们为人所知也就无关紧要了。这种观点使得哲学的艺术家欣然将几个世纪来女人所采取的所有强调和神化自己纤巧之美的手段视为理所应当。如果加以详述，将会包括数不清的细节；但我们只限于讨论当下时代通常所称的化妆，谁会看不到，被无知哲学家愚蠢地加以谴责的粉饼，可以遮盖自然令人厌憎地散布在面部肌肤上的所有瑕疵，使皮肤的肌理和颜色呈现出形式上的协调？这种协调就像紧身裤营造出的效果，立刻便使人类接近于一尊雕塑，换言之，接近一种神性或优等的生物。至于眼部化妆所用的黑色铅笔，加深脸颊上半部分颜色的腮红，虽然它们的使用也源自同一原则，即超越自然的需要，其结果却注定是满足一个完全相反的需要。红色和黑色代表生命，一种超自然的、放纵的生命；眼部周围的黑圈让它们有一种更深邃、更奇怪的感觉，更让人感知到那是一扇通向无限的窗户；颧骨上深色的腮红让眼睛更有神采，让女人美丽的脸庞上多了一分女祭司的神秘激情。

所以，请听明白，我的意思是，化妆不能抱着庸俗的、遮遮掩掩地模仿自然中的美丽脸庞，或者拒绝衰老的目的。有人说，手段不修饰丑陋，它只为美丽服务。有谁敢派给艺术模仿自然的徒劳功能？化妆无须隐藏，不必害怕被发现；相反，它可以大摇大摆地招摇过市，如非装腔作势，至少是带着一种率真。

有些人的无趣严肃使得他们无法从最细微的表现中寻找美，我会容许这些人嘲笑我上面的思索，指责这些思索中有一种幼稚的严肃；对这些人的严厉批评我丝毫不以为意，我只愿意将它们诉诸真正的艺术家，以及那些在出生时即受了那圣火的火星、后佯装用来点亮外表的女人们。

十二、女人与少女

因此，在G先生承担了在现代性中寻找和解释美的使命后，他便喜欢画盛装打扮的女人，她们的美因为身上的每一处装饰而得到提升，勿论她们的社会阶层。而且，从整体上看他的作品，就像人类熙熙攘攘的生活一样，不管奢侈程度如何，画中人阶级和教养的不同，观者是一望便知的。

在一幅画中，我们看到在灯光弥漫的观众席，有一群最高级社交圈的年轻女人，光线反射在她们的双眸、佩戴的珠宝和肩膀上，包厢如同画框，她们就像一幅光彩夺目的肖像画。其中一些是庄重严肃的，另一些是美丽轻浮的。一些女子带着贵族的冷漠表现出早熟的迷人气质，其他女子则稚气未脱给人假小子的感觉。她们都咬着手中的扇子，目光或茫然或专注；她们的姿势是夸张和隆重的，就像她们正假装在聆听的话剧和歌剧。

另一幅画，是穿着时尚的一家人，正在沿着公园小路散步。无忧无虑的妻子倚在丈夫的手臂上，丈夫安然满足的气质显示出这是一个奋斗成功的男人，富有而自得。这里，富有的整体气质取代了傲慢。小女孩们手臂细如火柴棍，穿着大摆裙，举止形容像一个小妇人，她们蹦蹦跳跳，玩呼啦圈，或者过家家，在户外上演着她们的父母在家里上演的社交喜剧。

这一幅画展示的是更低一级的社会阶层，来自郊区剧院的少女演员，因为终于出现在舞台脚灯的强光中而如孔雀般骄傲，她们身材纤细、孱弱，几乎还没长大，用处女的病态的身体摇曳着身上可笑的演出服，这演出服说不上属于哪个时代，但却给它们的主人带来了快乐。

这一幅，在咖啡馆门口，我们看到宽大的窗子被房间内外的灯光照得通明，一个懒洋洋的笨蛋靠在窗子上，他的优雅是裁缝的功劳，他的仪表要感谢理发师。坐在他身边的是他的情妇，脚搭在必不可少的一张脚凳上，身材就像一头奶牛，身上几乎不缺什么（这里“不缺什么”意思是什么都缺，简言之，“气质”），让她看起来像一个出身高贵的女士。她和自己的漂亮男友一样，樱桃小口中塞着一支特大号雪茄。这两个人的头脑中都空无一物。谁也不能肯定他们是在看什么东西——除非，像蠢笨的纳喀索斯〔61〕一样，他们在凝视着人群，好像它是一条河，映出自己的倒影。在现实中，他们的存在更多是让旁观者而非自己感到快乐。

现在，瓦朗蒂诺、卡西诺、普拉多（即过去的提沃里、意达里、佛里、帕佛）打开了灯火通明、人声鼎沸的长廊，在这里，无所事事的有钱年轻人可以尽情释放自己的本能冲动。女人们把最新的潮流夸张到极致，破坏掉它线条的优雅，正在卖弄地走来走去，用她们披肩的幅摆和边缘擦着发亮的地板，眼睛里射出动物般野性的光芒，虽然表面上什么都没有看，其实却在观察一切。

在冥府之光或者北极光的背景下，即红色、橙色、硫黄的黄色、粉色（那种让人联想到轻浮中狂热的粉色），有时是紫罗兰色（像蓝色帷帐后余烬的颜色，为女牧师所钟爱）。在这种神秘的背景下，带着多种焰火的效果，展现在我们眼前的可疑之美的种种画面，一时高贵，一时嬉闹，一时苗条甚至瘦削，一时臃肿，一时像玩偶一样活泼可爱，一时又沉重如雕塑一般。这种可疑之美或者展示出她自创的一种充满诱惑的粗俗的优雅，或者她会多多少少模仿上流社会流行的简约。她朝我们走来，滑着、舞着、摇摆着，似乎全靠她那刺绣衬裙的重量，它既是钟摆又是基座；她的眼波从帽檐下流出，就像一幅加框的肖像画。她是生活在文明中的野蛮人的完美形象。她身上有一种罪恶带给她的美，总是缺乏灵性，但偶尔会有一种伪装成忧郁的疲乏。她的眼睛投向地平线，就像一头狩猎的野兽：同样的野蛮，同样的冷漠，有时又是同样的神情专注。她是吉卜赛类型的人，处在正常社会的边缘地带；浅薄是她充斥着欺诈和挣扎的生活的主要内容，不可避免地透过她的盛装暴露出来。那位无法模仿的大师拉布吕耶尔曾经说过一段话，也许正可以描述她，“一些女人身上有一种不自然的高贵，体现在她们转动眼睛和高昂着头的方式，或者走路的动作；但它行之不远，仅此而已……”

以上关于交际花的看法，在一定程度上，也适用于女演员；因为她也是爱表演的动物，向公众邀宠。但在后者，征服和猎获具有一种更高贵、更属精神的性质。她的目标是赢得公众喜爱，不仅通过纯粹的外在美，也通过罕有的才华。如果说女演员一方面接近交际花，她在另一方面却也接近于诗人。让我们不要忘记，除了自然美甚至人工美，所有人身上都打上了其从事的职业的烙印，这种特质可以表现为肉体的丑，但也可表现为某种职业的美。

在伦敦和巴黎这个广阔的生活画廊中，我们遇到各式各样处在不同阶段的单身女人，以及叛逆的女人：首先是刚刚长成的小镇千金，正在努力培养自己的贵族气质，炫耀着她的青春和奢华，使得她所拥有的天赋和灵魂不言自明；我们看到，她有各式料子的裙子，缎子、丝绸或天鹅绒无一不备，她用两根手指小心翼翼地拎着裙子上的荷叶边，露出一对尖尖的玉足，即使没有那艳丽的裙子，她脚上过分华丽的鞋子也足以暴露她的身份。沿着梯子下几级，我们会遇到困在装饰得像咖啡馆的破屋里的那些奴隶；这些不幸的人，遭受着最贪得无厌的管制，没有什么东西是属于自己的，甚至连身上装点美的古怪装饰也不是自己的。其中一些人，带着那种明显无辜但却可怕的愚昧，脸上和毫无廉耻地直视着你的眼睛里，有一种对活着的明显的喜悦（这实在让人诧异）。有时，她们可以轻松地摆出性感而又高贵的姿势，这会让最吹毛求疵的雕刻家都欢喜雀跃，假如今天的雕刻家有勇气和智慧在所有地方都找到高贵，即使是在泥潭；其他时候，她们表现出令人绝望的无聊，似乎对自己无能为力，或者张扬地摆出咖啡馆生活的懒散姿势，带着男人的厚颜无耻，抱着逆来顺受的东方宿命论，靠抽雪茄消磨时日；她们躺在沙发上，大大的裙摆在头上和脚下形成两个扇形，或者摇摇晃晃地坐在高脚凳或椅子上；身材臃肿、沮丧、愚蠢、缺乏理性的她们，喝着白兰地，目光呆滞无神，丰满的额头上写着固执。我们已经到达螺旋楼梯最下面一级，发现了拉丁讽刺诗人〔62〕所谓的“单纯女人”〔63〕。在某个时间，在这充满烟酒的氛围中，我们也不难发现这里有肺结核病人憔悴发热的面颊，那里有懒惰所导致的臃肿丑陋的身体曲线。在这烟雾缭绕的喧闹中，沐浴在金黄色光线下的是贫穷而纯洁的女人做梦都想象不到的场景，可怕的仙女和活着的玩偶穿行其中，扭曲着身体，孩子般的眼睛里射出冷酷险恶的光；而在放满酒瓶的柜台后，一个肥胖的悍妇懒洋洋地坐着，她的头发用一块脏兮兮的丝巾束起来，丝巾的棱角在墙上投下邪恶的影子，于是我们相信所有献给邪恶的事物一定都受到诅咒，长了角。

事实上，我把这些场景展现在读者眼前，既不是为了取悦也不为冒犯，因为两者都对读者缺乏尊重。赋予这些场景价值和一种神圣性的是它们所引起的无数思考，通常是严肃而阴郁的。但是如果碰巧某个不明智的读者，想在G先生的作品中寻找机会满足他病态的好奇心，虽然它们分散在各处，那么让我给他一个善意的警告，那就是，他不会找到任何挑起淫秽想象力的东西。他能找到的只有必然发生的恶行，换言之，藏在阴影中的恶魔的眼睛，或者在煤气灯下梅萨丽娜〔64〕白皙发亮的肩膀；她只有纯粹的艺术，换言之，即罪恶特有的那种美，恐怖中的美。顺便想起刚才所说的，这个大仓库传达出的整体印象更多是充满悲伤，而非乐趣。这些画作特有的美在于它丰富的道德意义。它们引人遐思，是残酷的思绪，虽然我已习惯将画面的感召诉诸笔端，但是这些文字也许仍不足够。

十三、马车

就这样，这些“上层社会”和“下层社会”的长长走廊向远处延伸开去，两边又有无数的侧廊。让我们暂时逃向一个世界，即使并不纯净，至少更加优雅；让我们呼吸芳香，也许并非更加健康，但是更清香。我曾说过，就像欧仁·拉米一样，G先生手中的画笔非常适合表现浪荡作风的排场和社交场上的优雅女人。富人的姿态他是熟悉的；只需轻轻几笔，他便能准确无误地捕捉住反映在特权阶层眼睛里、举手投足间和仪态上的那份无法言传的安全感，这源自于他们人生道路上一贯的好运。在这一特别的作品系列中，我们看到各种各样的运动、赛马和打猎的场景，比如一场在树林中举行的马车比赛，有骄傲的夫人和娇弱的小姐，娴熟地驾驭着一匹骏马，马儿的外形完美、漂亮、毛发亮泽，也像女人一样任性。G先生不仅了解关于马的一般知识，而且也同样成功地传达出每匹马的独特美。一些画作描绘了一场运动会，一次真正的露营和无数的马车，其中，俊男美女穿着应季的古怪服装，靠在垫子上，坐在座位上或包厢里，正在观看一场严肃的赛马会，赛马选手的身影消失在远处。在另一幅画上，一辆敞篷的四轮轻便马车旁，一个人在优雅地骑马慢跑，他的马好像是在以自己的方式腾跃嬉戏，马车则沿着一条光影斑驳的小道，轻快地跑着，车上是一群美人，穿着气球一样的裙子，看起来就像坐在贡多拉上似的，她们慵懒地倚着靠垫，漫不经心地听着赞美之词，懒洋洋地享受着拂面的微风。

她们穿着皮毛或者平纹细布的衣服，一直包到下颌，裙裾在马车门上方飞扬。仆人无一例外地表情呆板、身姿笔挺、一动不动；总是那种单调乏味的肖像画，满脸奴性，动作精确，训练有素；他们的性格就是没有性格。画作的背景上，树林被装点成绿色和棕色，根据时间和季节不同，闪着微光或逐渐变暗。树荫处笼罩着秋天的薄雾、蓝色的阴影、黄色的光线、玫瑰粉色的光辉，或者在黑暗中闪烁的像剑刺一样的一道道闪电。

如果以黎凡特战争为主题的无数水彩画，没有展示出G先生作为风景画家的能力，这些作品一定足够了。但是这里没有克里米亚半岛被战火蹂躏得千疮百孔的土地，没有博斯普鲁斯海峡戏剧性的海滨；我们又见到了环绕着我们的大城市的熟悉而亲切的翠绿景色，光线营造出的效果，是一个真正的浪漫艺术家不能轻视的。

另一点值得一提的是，G先生熟知马具和四轮大马车。在画每一辆和每一种马车时，G先生都带着同样的精心和轻松，就像一个娴熟的海洋风景画家熟悉每种船一样。他对马车的描画都是正确的，每一处细节都在正确的地方，不需重头来过。不管马车位置如何，速度怎样，一辆马车都像一艘船一样，从行驶中获得了一种神秘复杂的优雅，速写是很难捕捉这种优雅的。画家的眼睛从中获得的快感，显然来自于一系列几何图形，是那个本身已很复杂的物体——马车和船——在空间行进时创造出来的。

我们可以打赌，几年后，G先生的画作将成为文明生活的宝贵档案。他的作品会像第伯柯尔特、莫罗〔65〕、圣·欧邦、卡尔·韦尔内〔66〕、拉米、德维利亚、加瓦尔尼等技艺精湛的画家一样受到追捧，虽然这些画家创作的主题都局限于通俗和美丽的事物，然而，他们都以自己的方式，成为重要的历史学家。这些画家中有几个为了所谓的“美丽事物”牺牲了太多，有时还会在作品中引入了与主题不相关的古典风格；有几个特意磨平了棱角，缓和了生活的冷酷，让色调更柔和。G先生的技巧赶不上他们，但却有一个特有的深刻优点；他承担了一个其他画家轻视的工作，一个只有入世之人能完成的工作。他在我们这个时代的生活中四处去寻找昙花一现、稍纵即逝的美的形式，如果读者允许，我们把这种美的特性称为“现代性”。这种美经常是奇特的、狂暴的、过分的，但总是充满了诗意，他已经成功地将生活之酒的苦涩和醉人的滋味凝聚在他的作品中。

注　释

〔1〕提香·韦切利奥（Tiziano Vecellio, 1490—1576）：被誉为西方油画之父，是意大利文艺复兴后期威尼斯画派的代表画家。——译者注。本书其余注释除特殊标明外，均为译者所加。

〔2〕拉斐尔·圣齐奥（Raffaello Sanzio, 1483—1520）：意大利画家、建筑师。与达·芬奇和米开朗琪罗合称“文艺复兴三杰”。拉斐尔的画作以“秀美”著称，画中人物清秀，场景祥和。

〔3〕雅克—贝尼格尼·波舒哀（Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, 1627—1704）：法国高级教士和历史学家，因其追悼词和一篇历史论文而闻名。

〔4〕让·拉辛（Jean Racine, 1639—1699）：法国剧作家，与高乃依和莫里哀合称17世纪最伟大的三位法国剧作家。

〔5〕第伯柯尔特（Louis Philibert Debucourt, 1755—1832）：新古典主义的代表画家。

〔6〕圣·欧邦（Saint-Aubin, 1736—1809）：法国版画家。

〔7〕加瓦尔尼（Paul Gavarni, 1804—1866）：法国版画家、油画家。

〔8〕奥诺雷·杜米埃（Honoré Daumier, 1808—1879）：法国著名画家、讽刺漫画家、雕塑家和版画家，是当时最多产的艺术家。

〔9〕德维利亚（Achille Jacques-Jean-Marie Devéria, 1800—1857）：法国油画家、版画家。

〔10〕尼古拉斯·尤斯塔奇·毛林（Nicolas Eustache Maurin, 1799—1850） ：法国著名作家、画家、版画与雕刻家。

〔11〕皮埃尔—努玛·巴萨盖（Pierre-Numa Bassaget, 1820—1872）：法国画家。

〔12〕瓦提埃（Charles Emile Wattier, 1800—1868）：法国画家。

〔13〕塔塞贺（Octave Tassaert, 1800—1874）：法国肖像、风俗、宗教、历史和讽喻题材画家。

〔14〕欧仁·拉米（Eugène Louis Lami, 1800—1890）：法国油画家、版画家。

〔15〕特里莫雷（Louis Joseph Trimolet, 1812—1843）：法国油画家、版画家。

〔16〕特拉维埃（Edouard Travies, 1809—?）：法国画家，终生致力于通过水彩和平版印刷来创作以自然历史为主题的作品。

〔17〕M. C. G.: Monsieur Constatin Guys的缩写，指法国画家贡斯当丹·居伊先生（1802—1892）。

〔18〕让·雅克·卢梭（Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 1712—1778） ：法国伟大的启蒙思想家、哲学家、教育家、文学家，是18世纪法国大革命的思想先驱，法国启蒙运动最卓越的代表人物之一。

〔19〕《人群中的人》（The Man of the Crowd）：爱伦·坡在1840年写下的小说。那时候他刚举家从纽约迁到费城，这篇披着伦敦外衣的短篇小说被评论家们认为是关于纽约的。

〔20〕圣·奥古斯丁（St. Augustine, 354—430）：古罗马帝国时期基督教思想家，欧洲中世纪基督教神学、教父哲学的重要代表人物。他的著作《忏悔录》被称为西方历史上“第一部”自传，至今仍被传诵。

〔21〕原文为拉丁文：Amabam amare. 圣·奥古斯丁在他的《忏悔录》中写道：“Nondum amabam, et amare amabam, quaerebam quid amarem, amans amare.”英文翻译为“I was not yet in love, and I loved to be in love, I sought what I might love, in love with loving.”

〔22〕拉布吕耶尔（La Bruyere, 1645—1696）：法国作家。法国写讽刺作品的道德家。主要作品是讽刺性的《品格论》（Carateres de Thephraste, 1688）。

〔23〕卢梭在《论人类不平等的起源和基础》中写道：“……思考的状态是一种反自然的状态，沉思的人是一头堕落的野兽。”

〔24〕雅克·路易·大卫（Jacques-Louis David, 1748—1825）：法国著名画家，新古典主义画派的奠基人和杰出代表。

〔25〕保罗·委罗内塞（Paolo Veronese, 1528—1588）：意大利文艺复兴时代的画家。

〔26〕鲁本斯（Peter Paul Rubens, 1577—1640） ：佛兰德斯最伟大的画家，17世纪巴洛克绘画风格在整个西欧的代表。

〔27〕卡特琳·德·梅第奇（Catherine de Médicis ）：法国王后。她是瓦卢瓦王朝国王亨利二世的妻子和随后三个国王的母亲。

〔28〕让—奥古斯特·多米尼克·安格尔（Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1780—1867）：法国画家。

〔29〕凡·戴克（Anthony Van Dyck, 1599—1641）：比利时弗拉芒族画家，是英国国王查理一世时期的英国宫廷首席画家，查理一世及其皇族的许多著名画像都是由凡·戴克创作的，他的画像的那种轻松高贵的风格，影响了英国肖像画将近150年。他还创作了许多圣经故事和神话题材的作品，并且改革了水彩画和蚀刻版画的技法。

〔30〕布吉尼昂（原名Jacques Courtois，又称“布吉里昂”，1621—1676）：法国著名战争场景画家。

〔31〕凡·德·默伦（Van Der Meulen, 1632—1690）：比利时弗拉芒族巴洛克画家，擅画战争场景。

〔32〕尼尼微：古代东方奴隶制国家亚述的首都，遗址在今伊拉克北部的摩苏尔。

〔33〕柯罗（Camille Corot, 1796—1875）：法国画家。在巴比松村附近的枫丹白露森林画了很多风景。

〔34〕拉撒路：圣经新约中的人物，他是耶稣的朋友，因病而死，但被埋葬四天后耶稣使其复活。“拉撒路，起身吧”即是耶稣使其复活时所说的话。

〔35〕贺拉斯·威尔奈（Horace Vernet, 1789—1963）：法国画家。

〔36〕克里米亚战争：指1853年因争夺巴尔干半岛的控制权而在欧洲大陆爆发的一场战争，奥斯曼帝国、英国、法国、撒丁王国等先后向沙皇俄国宣战，战争于1856年以沙皇俄国的失败而告终。

〔37〕康罗贝尔（François Certain de Canrobert, 1809—1895）：克里米亚战争中任法军统帅。

〔38〕巴拉圭—迪里埃先生（Louis-Achille Baraguay-d'Hilliers, 1795—1878）：法国元帅、政治家。

〔39〕勒絮埃尔（Eustache Lesueur, 1617—1655）：法国画家。

〔40〕黎凡特地区（Levant）：指欧洲南部，亚洲西部的地区。

〔41〕奥托国王（King Otto, 1816—1867）：巴伐利亚国王路德维希一世之子，1832年，伦敦会议把希腊的世袭主权交给他，让希腊在英国、俄国与法国的保护下成为“君主政体与独立”国家。1862年退位。

〔42〕保罗·德·莫莱纳（Paul de Molenes, 1821—1862）：法国军官、作家。

〔43〕夏雷（Nicolas Toussaint Charlet, 1792—1845）：法国设计家、画家，尤擅军事题材。

〔44〕喀提林（Lucius Sergius Catilina，约前108—前62）：罗马的阴谋叛变者。

〔45〕亚西比德（Alcibiades，前450?—前404）：雅典城邦的政治家。以其高傲、自由、竞争、永远第一和在伯罗奔尼撒战争中于雅典、斯巴达和波斯之间左右局势而闻名。

〔46〕夏多布里昂（Chateaubriand, 1768—1848） ：法国早期浪漫主义代表作家。他的小说《阿达拉》是在美洲构思的，在法国公众中引起轰动。这本小说描述的是北美洲印第安部落中发生的一桩爱情悲剧。作者旨在赞扬宗教，宣扬远离文明社会的思想，并抒发了没落贵族那种悲观厌世的情绪。

〔47〕古斯丁侯爵（Marquis de Custine, 1790—1857）：法国贵族作家，以旅行作品为人熟知，代表作品为《沙皇的帝国：永恒俄国之旅》。

〔48〕在斯巴达人的团队里，不让队员吃饱，却鼓励他们到外面偷东西吃，主要是去偷庇里阿西人的。偷着了算是光荣。如果被人发现，回来要挨重打，因为他偷的本领不高明。传说有一个少年，偷了一只狐狸藏在胸前。为了不让人发现，狐狸在衣服里面咬他，他也不动声色，直到被狐狸咬死。

〔49〕波德莱尔在《人造天堂》一文中谈到一山中老人用大麻叶使信徒进入迷醉状态，从而得到消极的、不假思索的服从。

〔50〕原文为拉丁文：Perinde ac cadaver！

〔51〕谢立丹（Richard Brinsley Sheridan, 1751—1816）：最为著名的喜剧作家。他代表了18世纪英国戏剧艺术的最高成就。

〔52〕博·布鲁梅尔（George Bryan Brummel, 1778—1840）：英国著名纨绔子弟，以其时髦服装和举止闻名。

〔53〕赫拉克勒斯（Hercules）：希腊神话中的大力神，主神宙斯之子，以完成十二项英雄业绩闻名。

〔54〕约瑟夫·德·迈斯特（Joseph de Maistre, 1753—1821）：法国哲学家、作家、律师和外交家。

〔55〕约翰·约阿辛·温克尔曼（Johann Joachim Winckelmann, 1717—1768）：德国艺术历史学家和考古学家。著有《古代美术史》。

〔56〕乔舒亚·雷诺兹爵士（Sir Joshua Reynolds, 1723—1792）：英国18世纪伟大的学院派肖像画家、油画画家。

〔57〕托马斯·劳伦斯爵士（Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1769—1830）：英国肖像画家。他的作品气质优雅，是他所处时代最流行的肖像画家。

〔58〕原文为拉丁文：mundus muliebris。

〔59〕据记载，当杜巴丽夫人不愿接待国王时，她会小心地搽上胭脂。这就足够了；这意味着她在关门谢客。她经常靠化妆来让这位崇尚自然的国王逃之夭夭。——原注

〔60〕圣巴多罗买（St Bartholomew）：耶稣的十二门徒之一，他殉教的方式是被剥皮而死。有一尊名为《圣巴多罗买受难》的铜雕像，表现的是那位据说被活着剥掉皮的圣徒持着自己的皮的形象。

〔61〕纳喀索斯（Narcissus）：希腊神话中的美少年，因恋上自己在水中的倒影，相思而死。

〔62〕指拉丁讽刺诗人朱文纳尔（Juvenal，约60—约140）。

〔63〕原文为拉丁文：foemina simplex。

〔64〕梅萨丽娜（Valeria Messalina）：罗马暴君克劳迪斯（Claudius）皇帝的第三任皇后，道德败坏，她对克劳迪斯产生了厌倦心理，甚至注册成为职业妓女，当夜深人静就偷偷溜出皇宫到妓院接客，每接待一人还象征性地收取一枚金币作为凭证。后来她更是为所欲为，趁克劳迪斯外出时与情夫公然举行婚礼，并阴谋推翻皇帝，结局是失败被杀。

〔65〕莫罗（Custave Moreau, 1826—1898）：法国新浪漫主义画派画家。

〔66〕卡尔·韦尔内（Carle Vernet, 1758—1835）：法国油画家。

欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的人生与作品

——致《国民舆论》编辑的一封信

先生：

这是我再一次，也是最后一次想向欧仁·德拉克洛瓦〔1〕的天才致敬，我恳求您，在您的报纸上留出几页，我将尽可能简短地记录下他的才能和他出类拔萃的原因，在我看来，这一点人们还没有完全认识到，最后还有几桩趣闻逸事和对他人生和性格的一些评论。

在我还很年轻的时候（那是在1845年，如果我没记错的话），我有幸与这位伟人有了密切接触，现在他已经去世了；我对他怀着尊敬，他对我则爱护有加，而这并未妨碍我们互相信任和亲近。从这种关系中，我可以随意汲取极为准确的观念，不仅关于他的创作方法，而且关于他伟大灵魂最隐私的特质。

先生，您不会看到我在这里对德拉克洛瓦的作品进行详细的分析。首先，我们每个人对此都会量力而行。其次，这位伟大画家一直在不断地向公众展示他思想的产物，他的作品清单实在太长，就算只对他的主要作品写上几行字，这种分析就差不多能成一本书了。所以，让我们满足于一个快速的概览吧。

他的不朽作品悬挂在众议院国王沙龙的墙上，还出现在众议院的图书馆、卢森堡宫的图书馆、卢浮宫的阿波罗画廊，以及城市酒店的和平沙龙里。这些装饰画包括大批寓言、宗教和历史题材，所有这些都属于人类智力的最高领域。至于他所谓的“画架作品”、素描、浮雕式灰色装饰画、水彩作品等，总数也大约有236幅。

在不同沙龙展出的表现重大主题的作品有77幅之多。我是从泰奥菲勒·西勒维斯特尔先生〔2〕所著的《当代画家史》一书中看到这些数字的，它们出现在关于欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的精辟研究的最后。

我自己曾不止一次试图整理一个清单出来，但是他的多产总是将我的耐心耗尽，最后我不得不放弃了这一不平等的抗争。如果泰奥菲勒·西勒维斯特尔先生犯了任何错误，那只能是遗漏了一些。

在我看来，先生，这里重要的是，寻找德拉克洛瓦天才的特质，并试图对它进行阐明；探究他与他同样杰出的前辈们的不同之处何在；最后，尽文字所能，展示他成功将言语转化成绘画作品的魔法艺术，他的作品比其他画家更充满生机，更恰如其分，简单来说，就是来展示在绘画的历史发展上，上天赋予了欧仁·德拉克洛瓦怎样的特质。

一

德拉克洛瓦是何许人也？他在这个世界上担负着怎样的角色和责任？这是我们必须研究的第一个问题。我不会长篇大论，将力图得出直接结论。佛兰德斯有鲁本斯，意大利有拉斐尔和委罗内塞，法国有勒布伦〔3〕、大卫和德拉克洛瓦。

肤浅的人乍一看到这几个名字放在一起，可能会感到吃惊，因为这几位画家的特点和手法截然不同。但是一个更有洞察力、更敏锐的人，立刻就能看到，他们之间有一个共同的关系，一种兄弟和亲戚的关系，这源自于他们对伟大、对民族、对无限和对宇宙的热爱，这种热爱总是能在所谓的装饰油画或宏伟“巨制”中表现出来。

无疑有很多人创作过宏伟“巨制”；但是我列出的这几个人，他们的作品是最有可能在人类记忆上打下永恒烙印的。这几位各有其伟大之处，而其中谁是最伟大的呢？每个人都可以给出自己的答案，在天性驱使下，他或是喜欢鲁本斯的多产、用色的丰富和几乎是快活的丰腴，或是拉斐尔的宁静高贵、比例协调，或是委罗内塞的天堂般的、仿佛午后的色彩，或是大卫朴实而紧张的严肃，抑或是伦勃朗戏剧的、近乎文学的优美流畅。

这几个人都是不可替代的。他们有着相似的目标，然而由于天性不同创作手法亦不同。德拉克洛瓦最晚出道，他的作品中有一种令人仰慕的激情和热心，这一点是其他几位的表达有所欠缺的。在创作中，他是否可能牺牲了其他的品质，就像他的前辈那样？也许吧，但我们需要关注的不是这个问题。

在我之外，有很多人都注意强调一种本质上是个人的天才所导向的宿命后果；它也可能是，天才在最纯洁的天国之外——即在人间，这里连完美都是不完美的——的最佳表达，只有做出不可避免的牺牲后才能完成。

但是，“得了，先生！”你无疑会这么说，“到底这种神秘的、无法言明的东西是什么，让德拉克洛瓦能够表达得比其他人更好，让我们这个时代得到荣耀？”那是一种无形的东西，一种无法触摸的东西，是幻想，是力量，是灵魂；他做到了这一点——先生，请注意——除了轮廓和色彩外没用其他任何手段；这一点他做得比所有人都要好；他的画表现出一个顶级画家的完美，一个精湛作家的严谨，一个激情音乐家的流畅。补充一句，我们这个时代精神气候的一个症状就是，各门艺术如果不是渴望替代彼此的话，至少也是渴望给彼此注入新的能力和力量。

在所有的画家中，德拉克洛瓦的作品是最具启发性的，即使是他二流或最差的作品，也能给人的思想提供最多的食粮，勾起人们最大的诗意感受，这种感受人们曾经有过，还以为已经被夜晚永远吞噬掉了。

有时，德拉克洛瓦的作品在我看来，就像是有助于记忆的卓越媒介和知识渊博之人与生俱来的激情。德拉克洛瓦先生这种独特而全新的优势，让他仅凭轮廓就能表达人的姿势，不论它是如何狂暴；仅凭颜色就能营造所谓“人间戏剧”的气氛或者创作者的思想感情——他这一特有的优势，总能引起所有诗人对他作品的共鸣。如果可以用一个纯粹物质的表现引出一种哲学的检验的话，我要请您注意，先生，在他去世时前来吊唁的人群中，作家的人数比画家要多得多。说白了，事实就是，画家从来没有完全理解他。

二

而这又有什么奇怪的呢？我们难道不知道，米开朗琪罗、拉斐尔、列奥那多·达·芬奇的时代，甚至是乔舒亚·雷诺兹的时代，都早已过去了？而艺术家的平均知识水平都明显地降低了？虽然从当代艺术家中寻找哲学家、诗人和科学家并不公平，但是期待他们对宗教、诗歌和科学表现出比现在更多的兴趣是合理的。

他们对工作室外的世界又知道什么？他们喜欢什么？他们想要表达什么？而欧仁·德拉克洛瓦，他除了是一位醉心艺术的画家外，还是一个受过全面教育的人；相反，大部分现代画家，不管年老的还是年轻的，大多不过是些有名或无名的画匠、忧郁的专家；他们是纯粹和简单的技工，有些擅于画学术人物肖像，有些擅于画水果，还有一些擅于画牲畜。欧仁·德拉克洛瓦热爱一切，可以就一切题材作画，能够欣赏每一种才智。他的头脑能接受所有观点、所有印象；他兼收并蓄、不偏不倚地热爱着所有经验。

他是个很好的读者，这是不消说的。阅读诗人的作品在他身上留下了崇高的、迅速确定了的形象，可以说，留下了已经完成的画。不管他和老师圭林〔4〕在创作手法和色彩运用上有多大不同，他还是从共和的、帝国的伟大流派中继承了对诗歌的热爱，以及一种说不清的与文字竞争的狂热精神。大卫、圭林和吉洛德从荷马、维吉尔、让·拉辛和奥西昂的作品中汲取感情。德拉克洛瓦是莎士比亚、但丁、拜伦和阿里奥斯托〔5〕动人的传达者。他们之间有重要的相似性和轻微的不同。

编辑先生，让我们在人们可称之为大师的教诲中追溯得更远些吧，对我来说，这种教诲不仅来自对他所有作品接连不断的观赏和对某些作品同时的观赏，就像人们在1855年万国博览会上欣赏到的那样，而且也来自我和画家本人进行的多次谈话。

三

德拉克洛瓦热烈地爱着激情，并冷静地寻找着表达激情最醒目的方式。顺便提一下，在这种双重性格中，我们找到了最坚实、极端的天才的两个标记，它不能取悦容易满足的胆怯灵魂，因为后者在松懈的、柔弱的、有瑕疵的作品中就找得到足够的营养。强烈的激情，再加上强大的意志力，这就是德拉克洛瓦。

他也喜欢重复说：“既然我把自然传递给艺术家的印象看作需要表达的最重要的事情，那么，艺术家事先以各种最迅速的表达手段把自己武装起来不就是很必要的吗？”

很明显，在他的眼里，想象力是最珍贵的礼物和最重要的才能，但是如果没有掌握一种迅速的技能，这种才能是无力和无用的，而那种迅速的灵巧是可以在这专制的伟大能力的不耐烦的任性中追随其后的。当然，他没有必要为他的想象力之火添加燃料，因为这火一直烧得很旺；但是他总觉得留给他研究表达的技术手段的时间太少了。

这种不断的考虑，表现在他对颜色和颜料质量的不懈研究、对化学问题的兴趣，以及与颜料制造商的讨论上。在这方面，他与列奥那多·达·芬奇很像。

尽管他赞美虔诚的生活现象，但绝不可以将欧仁·德拉克洛瓦与那些庸俗的艺术家和作家混为一谈，他们肤浅的思想隐藏在“现实主义”这一含糊晦涩的词之后。如果没记错，我第一次见德拉克洛瓦先生是在1845年（真是时光荏苒，岁月如梭），我们谈了许多一般的话题，所谓一般，指的是话题宽泛，但也是最简单的。先生，话说到这里，我要请您允许我引用我写过的一句话，因为与其重新表述，不如直接把这句话拿来，它几乎是大师的口述，他说：“自然不过是一本字典。”他喜欢这么说。要透彻理解这句话蕴含的全部意思，我们必须记住字典的无数寻常的用途。我们查找单词的词义、衍生义和词源，最终，我们从一本词典中得到了句子所有的组成部分和有序叙事；但是从没有人想到从字典的诗义上将它视为一件作品。服从想象力的画家，他们查字典是寻找与他们理念相符的成分，在赋予其艺术效果后，给了它们一副全新的面孔。那些没有想象力的人抄袭字典，这又产生了一种很大的罪恶，即陈腐；流于陈腐的画家们，他们的专长最接近所谓的死气沉沉的性情。比如，风景画家，他们如果能在作品中隐藏自己的个性，通常便会将之视为胜利。他们太专注于观察，以致竟忘记了感觉和思考。

“对于这位伟大的画家而言，艺术的各个部分不过是一种卓越才能的最恭顺的仆人，其他人则从这众多部分中择取一个作为最重要的。如果准确的创作是必要的话，那是为了梦幻可以清晰地得到表达；如果创作速度要很快，那是为了完整保留灵感迸发之时的非凡印象；如果这位艺术家留意他的工具是否干净，那也很容易理解，那是为了做好充分准备，以确保创作的敏捷果断。”

顺便说一句，我从未见谁的调色板准备得像德拉克洛瓦的那样悉心和精巧，就像一束精心搭配过的花。

“依照这种从本质上合乎常理的方法，所有的人物，他们彼此间的关系，作为他们的背景或是地平线的风景或内景，他们的服装，简言之，所有一切都必须服务于作品主旨，都要呈现自身本色，也可以说是它们的制服。正如一个梦要有它合适的氛围，一个构想要成为作品，也需要构建一个专属于它的色彩环境。显然，一个既定色调适合画面某个部分，它就会成为关键，主导着画面的所有其他部分。人人都知道黄色、橙色和红色代表着欢乐、财富、荣耀和爱；但是黄色或红色营造的氛围多达几千种，那么其他所有颜色都要根据画面的主要氛围，合理并根据一定比例来修改。从一些方面来讲，这位色彩画家的艺术显然与数学和音乐有关系。

“而作画的最高境界是在某种情感支配下的一气呵成，这种莫可名状的娴熟是长久练习的结果。人们将会看到，在这种整体和谐的伟大法则之下，许多作品的花哨和生硬暴露无遗，即便它们是出自最杰出的画家之手。比如，鲁本斯的一些作品，让我们联想到的不只是一个彩色焰火，而是同一地点同时燃放的多个焰火。画面越大，色彩越丰富，这自不待言，但是色彩的融合最好不要有斧凿的痕迹，从远处看，它们应该是自然地融合在一起，支配它们的是和谐的法则。这样，色彩才会富有活力，别具一格。

“一幅好的画作，如果要忠于和配得起它所产生的梦境的话，必须创作得像一个世界。正如我们看到的，一幅作品是好几幅作品的结果，后面的作品总是对前面的进行补充，所以一个和谐的作品是好几幅作品叠加在一起的结果，每一幅都让那个梦境更加真实，更臻于完美。与之完全相反，我还记得在保罗·德拉罗什〔6〕和贺拉斯·威尔奈的工作室，看到过一些巨大的油画，它不是先总体构图，而是一部分一部分依次完成的，也就是说，某些部分已经完工，而其他部分还只有一些黑白线条。这种创作可以喻为一种完全手工的创作，即分配好在特定时间完成特定区域的工作，或者可以比喻为一条被分成许多段的长长的路。一旦某个路段完工，这段的工作也结束了，当这条路一段段修完，艺术家的作品也就完成了。

“当然，所有这些规则，根据艺术家的秉性不同，都或多或少地有所变化。但是，我相信，对于富有想象力的人来说，前面所说的那种方法是最保险的。因为，过分地偏离这种方法，也就表明，人们赋予了艺术的某些次要方面一种非正常和不合理的重视。

“我不怕有人诟病用单一方法教授不同的人。因为，修辞和韵律的教学体系显然不是随意创造出的专横形式，而是人们的精神世界所需规则的集合。同样，修辞和韵律体系也不会遏制人们的创造力。正相反，它们倒是会大大帮助开发人们的创造力。

“为了简明扼要，我必须略去不谈一些从这个主要原则派生出来的推论，这一主要原则，可以说，包含着真正美学的整套密码：肉眼可见的整个宇宙不过是一个储存图像和符号的仓库，人们的想象力会赋予它们一个地位和相对的价值；它就像一片牧场，想象力可以在其中吃草，进行能量转换。人类灵魂的所有功能必须从属于想象力，想象力统领它们协同做出贡献。就像对字典了如指掌，不代表就了解构图的艺术，能够进行艺术构图也不代表有广博想象力的天赋，所以一个好的画家可能不是一个伟大的画家，但是，一个伟大的画家一定是一个技巧娴熟的画家，因为拥有一种广博的想象力，一定意味着对所有技术手段的了解和占有这些手段的愿望。

“从我刚刚尽力表达的观点上（还有很多话没说，尤其是在艺术的共同点和它们所用方法的相似性上），显而易见，庞大的艺术家阵营，或者说，致力于艺术表达的人，可以分为两大截然不同的阵营。一个阵营是我们所谓的‘现实主义者’，这个词有双重含义，它的意义还没有精确界定；为了很清晰地显现出他们的错误，我们将称他们为‘实证主义者’。‘实证主义者’如是说：‘我想按照事物的本来面目，或者在假定我不存在的情况下它们的面目来表现它们。’一个没有人的世界。另一个阵营里的，则是那些富有想象力的人，他们说：‘我想用我的头脑点亮事物，并将它的影子投射在其他头脑上。’尽管这两种截然相反的方法可以增强和削弱任何主题，无论是宗教画还是最普通的风景画，但是在宗教画和幻想画中，富有想象力的人通常会脱颖而出。而所谓的风俗画和风景画，从表面上看，为懒惰的、不容易兴奋的头脑提供了丰富的资源。

“德拉克洛瓦的想象力啊！这是一种从不畏惧攀登宗教险峰的想象力。天堂属于它，就像地狱属于它一样，还有战争、奥林匹斯山和愉悦。他无疑是画家派诗人的典型！他无疑是为数不多的上帝的选民之一，他思想的广度将宗教也纳入其领地范围。他的想象力像点满蜡烛的小教堂一样明亮，辉煌而鲜红。激情中所有的悲伤吸引着他，教堂里的光辉让他心中充满光明。在他那充满灵感的画布上，他依次倾洒着鲜血、光明和黑暗。我相信，作为锦上添花之笔，他会乐意将自己与生俱来的高贵加诸《福音书》的崇高之上。

“我记得看到过德拉克洛瓦画的一幅小的《天使传报》〔7〕图，画上给马利亚送信的天使，不是一个，而是还有其他两个天使隆重地护送前来，这三个天使营造的效果很强烈，充满魅力。他早期的一幅画作《橄榄树下的基督》（‘父啊，你若愿意，就把这杯撤去’），充满了女性的温柔和诗意的愉悦。宗教中回荡着的苦难和庄严总是能引起他思想的共鸣。”

更近一些时候，他的最后一幅伟大作品《圣苏比的圣天使教堂》，受到了愚蠢的批评。对此我说道：“德拉克洛瓦从来没有像在这幅作品中一样，如此精彩、深入和超自然地展示出对色彩的感觉，在《图拉真皇帝的审判》中没有，甚至在《第四次十字军东征进入君士坦丁堡》中也没有；他从未用如此刻意的史诗般的笔触去创作一幅作品。我知道一些人，他们肯定是泥瓦匠，也许是建筑师，提到他最后的这幅作品时用到了‘颓废’一词。我由此想到，那些大师，不论是诗人还是画家，是雨果还是德拉克洛瓦，总是要比他们胆怯的仰慕者们超前好几年。〔8〕

“在对待天才上，公众就像一只走慢的钟。有见地的人们，谁不知道大师的第一幅画已经孕育了他其他所有作品的胚芽？然而，他应该不断地完善自己的天赋，慎重地使之更加敏锐，从中汲取新的感受；他应该尽力地驱策自己的天赋，这是必要发生、不可推卸和值得赞扬的。德拉克洛瓦的天才的主要特征正在于它绝不是衰颓的，它表现的只有进步。但是他原本的品质是如此强烈和丰富，即使是最平庸的头脑都感受到了它强大的冲击力，以至于后者忽视了他每天的进步；只有明智人士能清晰地看到他的进步。

“我刚才提到了某些泥瓦匠。在我看来，‘泥瓦匠’这个词描述了一个粗俗的唯物主义思想的群体（这个群体为数众多），他们欣赏事物只是从轮廓，或者更糟，从长宽高三维的角度来欣赏，就像野蛮人和农民一样。我经常听到这类人制订出一个我完全听不懂的品级级系。比如，他们会认为，那种让这个人创造出某个精确的轮廓，那个人创造出某个具有神性美的轮廓的能力，要优于将不同色彩以赏心悦目的方式组合在一起的能力。它们认为，色彩本身是没有梦想、思考和表达的能力的。这样看来，当我凝视着所谓‘色彩画家’的作品时，便是沉溺于一种不那么高贵的愉悦中；他们倒是很愿意把我称作唯物主义者，而将唯心论者这一贵族的称号留给自己。

“这些浅薄的人认识不到，上面所说的两种能力从来都不能完全分开，它们都是某个精心培育的原始种子的产物。外部的自然不过是为艺术家提供了一个不断重现的培育种子的机会；而人的天性只是一堆未经整合的素材，需要艺术家进行排列组合，成为那些沉睡的能力的一个闹钟。准确来说，天性中既无线条，也无色彩。是人创造了线条和色彩。两者都是从同一源头获得同等高尚地位的抽象概念。

“一个天生的画家，在孩提时，就能从自然中看到一些或静或动的错综复杂的形状，他从中感受到愉悦，并喜欢以线条的形式把它们呈现在纸上，在情绪变化的驱动下，突出或弱化某些部分。他以这种方式学会了如何在画作中表现曲线、优雅和人物。现在让我们想象一个注定要在‘色彩’这个艺术领域有所建树的孩子；他从两种色调的碰撞或联合中，从色彩带给他的愉悦中，获取了色彩组合的无穷无尽的知识。在这两种情形下，自然和天性扮演的都只是催化剂的角色。

“线条和色彩都可发人深思，引人幻想；两者传递出的愉悦感是不同的，但完全平等，并且绝对独立于画作的主题之外。

“德拉克洛瓦的一幅画作，如果离得太远，你也许无法看到轮廓的优点，抑或主题或多或少的戏剧化特点，然而却依然能感受到一种神性的愉悦。它就像一种神奇的氛围向你靠近，笼罩着你。这种感觉，幽暗而令人愉快，明亮但又平静，永驻于你的记忆中，这是一位真正娴熟的色彩画家的身份证明。这种最初的愉悦感在你凑近画作分析主题时不会有所增减，它的源头在别处，不存在于任何明确的思想中。

“我可以把这例子反过来说。一个画得很好的人物，能让你感受到一种与主题完全无关的愉悦。不管是性感的还是令人恐惧的，这个人物的魅力完全来自于它构筑的空间模式。一个被活活剥皮的殉难者的四肢，一个昏倒的仙女的身体，如果画得巧妙，会让人感受到一种愉悦，在其中画作主题是无足轻重的；如果您对此并不认同，我就不得不认为您是一个施刑者或者好色之徒了。

“但是，唉！老是重复这些无用的真理有什么好处呢？”

也许，先生，比起以上所有的高谈阔论，您的读者会更愿意知道这位伟大画家的个性和生活方式上的细节，而我也正迫不及待要说呢。

四

我前面提及的欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的双重天性，在他的文字中尤其能看得清楚。正如您所知，先生，许多人都对他笔下的睿智观点以及温和风格感到吃惊，这在一些人看来是遗憾的，在其他人看来则是值得称许的。《美的变奏曲》，对普桑〔9〕、普吕东〔10〕和夏雷的研究，以及发表在《艺术家》（当时还是利库先生在经营）或是《两世界评论》上的文章，都证实了伟大艺术家们的这种双重天性。这种双重性推动着他们像批评家一样津津有味地去赞扬和分析他们作为创造者最为需要、与他们所大量具有的素质相反的那些素质。如果欧仁·德拉克洛瓦大加颂扬自己身上为我们所欣赏的素质，比如他的激情、一挥而就的果决、构图的狂放不羁、用色的巧妙，那倒是让人感到惊讶了。为什么要去寻找自己拥有的丰富到过剩的东西呢？如何能不赞美那些对我们来讲罕见和难得的事物呢？编辑先生，不管是画家还是作家，创造性天才一旦把才能用在批评上时，我们总会看到同样的现象。在古典和浪漫这两大派别对峙的时代，头脑简单的人听到欧仁·德拉克洛瓦盛赞拉辛、拉·封丹〔11〕和布瓦洛〔12〕，会大为惊讶。我认识一位诗人，他天性喜欢暴风骤雨，却为马莱伯〔13〕的一行诗而狂喜不已，这行诗对称整齐，如音乐般方正牢固。

这位伟大画家的文章在表达和主旨上睿智、合理、清晰明确，但如果我们认为这是轻易写就的，如他的画笔一样游刃有余，那就错了。他越是有把握把他之所想写在画布上，就越担心无法把思想画在纸上。他总爱说：“笔不是我的工具；我感觉我想的是对的，但是一到被迫要用井然有序的话将它表述出来时，我就被绊住了。你相信吗，被迫写一页文字，会让我偏头疼。”这种源于缺乏练习的笨拙，解释了这位在其他方面都很杰出的天才，笔下为什么会出现一些陈旧、乏味、平庸，甚至第一帝国时期〔14〕的表达的原因。

德拉克洛瓦的风格最显著的标志是简洁和一种不事张扬的艺术激情，这种激情通常在一个人把全部的精神力量集中到一点上时产生。“英雄就是那种矢志不移之人。”爱默生〔15〕如是说。这位大西洋彼岸的道德家，虽然顶着无聊的波士顿学派领导者的称号，身上却有塞内加〔16〕的影子，这足以成为驱策思考的力量。“英雄就是那种矢志不移之人。”——这句格言被爱默生这位美国“超验主义”〔17〕的倡导者用于生活准则和商业领域——应该也同样可以用于诗歌和艺术领域。我们也不妨这样说：“文学的英雄，即真正的作家，就是那种矢志不移之人。”因此，先生，当您发现德拉克洛瓦对行文简洁而专注的作家颇有好感时，也不会感觉惊讶了吧。这些作家的文章不为风格雕饰所牵绊，而似乎是在模仿思维的快速流动，他们笔下的句子有一种果决的姿态，如孟德斯鸠〔18〕。我可以就这种富有成果和诗性的简洁给您一个例子。相信您跟我一样，都读了保罗·德·圣维克托最近在《新闻报》上发表的那篇极有趣、极好的文章，研究了阿波罗画廊的天花板壁画。文章一一谈到关于洪水的不同观念，洪水的传说怎样被解读，组成这幅宏伟作品的场景和动作的内在意义；以这种迷人的方式对画作本身也进行了细致描述，既诙谐幽默，又妙趣横生，作者给我们举了很多例子。但是它在我们的记忆中留下的只是一个形体不明的影子，就像一张放大的相片上苍白的光。将这篇冗长的文章与下面几行文字比较，在我看来后者更加充满活力，更有助于在脑海中营造画面，即使这个画面并不真实存在。我只是将德拉克洛瓦先生在邀请朋友观看这幅画时所说的话放在这里：

阿波罗，巨蟒皮同的征服者

阿波罗跨上他的战车，已经射出了几支箭；妹妹戴安娜在他身后，正高喊着把自己的箭筒递给他。那条可怕的巨蟒，被这位光明与青春之神射出的箭所伤，伤口滴着血，正在垂死挣扎。它暴怒而绝望地扭动着身体，笼罩在一片火红的光中。大洪水已经开始消退，把人和动物的尸体留在山顶或席卷而去。大地被面目可憎的怪物、泥土的不洁产物所占据，神见此场景大怒。他们像阿波罗一样武装起来：密涅瓦和默丘利跳上前来诛灭怪物，那永恒的智慧会使这个孤寂的宇宙重新住满人类；大力神赫丘利用他的大棒打杀怪物；火神乌尔肯正在赶走黑夜和恶臭的水汽；而北风之神波瑞阿斯和西风之神仄费罗斯用他们的气息吹干洪水，驱散乌云；山林水泽仙女找到了她们的苇床和瓮，依然脏兮兮的，沾着泥和残渣；几个比较害羞的神远远地看着这场神与自然之间的较量；同时，胜利女神维克托里亚从最高的天上飘然而下，为胜利者阿波罗加冕；众神的使者伊里丝在柔和的空气中展开了她的面纱，象征着光明战胜了黑暗和泛滥的洪水。

我知道读者将需要发挥想象力，可以说，将被迫与这段说明文字的作者合作。但是，先生，您真的认为，对这位画家的仰慕使我成了一个充满幻想的人？如果说我从上面的文字中看到了一种由高尚阅读获得的贵族态度的痕迹，一种精准思维的痕迹，它使得平头百姓、士兵、冒险家，甚至是宫廷侍从在不经意间写出了极好的书，就连我们这些专业作家都忍不住要拍手称赞的书，您真的认为我这样说是绝对错了吗？

五

欧仁·德拉克洛瓦是一种怀疑主义、谦恭有礼、浪荡作风、激情四射、狡猾多端和专制主义的奇怪混和，而且还是一种永远伴随着天才的特殊的宽厚和克制的温柔的奇异混合。他的父亲是我们小时候认识的最后一批绅士之一，他们属于一个强有力的群体；其中一些是让·雅克·卢梭主张的热忱倡导者，另外一些则是伏尔泰的忠实信徒，但是所有人都带着同样的决心参与到法国大革命中；他们中的幸存者，雅各宾党人或左翼激进派人士，都怀着一种完全的真诚（记得这一点很重要）支持拿破仑·波拿巴〔19〕的政策。

欧仁·德拉克洛瓦身上一直保留着这种宗教背景的痕迹。然而，他和司汤达一样，极其恐惧被卷入革命浪潮。尽管他是个怀疑论者，主张贵族统治，但他只是通过强制的幻想才认识了激情和超自然主义。他憎恨群体，认为他们不过是些造反派，他的一些作品在1848年受到群体的暴力对待〔20〕，这更不能让他转向我们这个时代的政治感伤主义。在他的态度、举止和观点中，有某种东西让我们想到维克多·雅克蒙〔21〕。我知道这种比较并不讨人喜欢，因此我这么说是有保留的。在雅克蒙身上，有一种中产阶级的机智，爱寻衅吵架；还有一种既能愚弄梵天〔22〕的教士，也能欺骗基督教牧师的幽默滑稽。德拉克洛瓦，在天才与生俱来的良好品味的指引下，永远不会堕落到使用这种不入流的诡计。因此，我在这里对两者的比较只是指他们共同具有的谨慎和中庸。同样的，18世纪赋予他性情上的遗传标志，似乎是来自一个既非乌托邦也非狂人的阶层，即温和的怀疑论者、胜利者和幸存者的阶层，一般来说，比之卢梭，他们更多地来自伏尔泰。因此，初看起来，欧仁·德拉克洛瓦表面只是一个“有教养”的人（这里是从这个词最好的含义上说），一个不存偏见的完美绅士。只有通过更经常的往来，人们才能透过表面，看清他灵魂更深的栖息处。另外一个跟他在仪态举止上真正可以相提并论的人，是梅里美先生〔23〕。他有着同样表面的冷淡，不容易激动；同样冰冷的外表下隐藏着温和的敏感和对善与美的似火热情；在同样自我主义的伪装下是对朋友和信仰的热爱和虔诚。

欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的身上有隐士的东西；这是他天性中最宝贵的一面，这一面完全致力于把他的梦想以绘画的形式表现出来，以及对艺术的崇拜。在他身上有社交人士的东西；这一部分注定要隐藏隐士的部分，并缓和它可能引起的任何不满。我相信，他人生最大的一项努力便是隐藏心底涌起的愤怒，以及让自己看起来不像个天才。他的控制欲，不仅完全合理，而且是不可避免的，几乎消失在无数的优雅之下，可以说是火山口艺术地隐藏在花束之下。

他与司汤达的另一个相似之处，就是喜欢简单的原则、简短的箴言以及良好的生活作风。就像所有热情、敏感的人一样，因为性情使他们远离方法，因此他们对方法的喜爱也更加强烈，德拉克洛瓦喜欢编造这类小小的实用道德的信条，没有生活目标的蠢人和懒汉可能会轻蔑地将之归于德·拉帕利斯先生〔24〕，但是天才不会鄙视这些信条，因为天才是朴素的；对于在天赋驱使下进入永恒战斗的人，明智、有力、简单和实际的箴言是他的胸甲和护盾。

正是这同样坚定不移和倨傲的智慧，形成了德拉克洛瓦先生在政治问题上的见解，这还用我说吗？他认为，一切都没有改变，尽管一切看似在变，在各民族历史上风起云涌的时期，总是会有相似的现象出现。事实上，他在这类问题上的看法与一位历史学家很接近，特别是从他那冷漠扫兴的顺从方面来看更为相近。我自己对这位历史学家非常尊重；而先生，您对这些论点如此熟悉，即使遭到反驳也依然可以欣赏对方的才能，一定也不止一次对他表示敬佩。我所说的这个人是费拉里先生〔25〕，《论以国家利益为名的理由》一书的思想缜密、博学多才的作者。毫无疑问，如果有谁在德拉克洛瓦先生面前，表露出对乌托邦的幼稚的狂热，很快会听到他的冷笑，夹杂着讽刺的同情；如果有谁冒冒失失地在他面前抛出现代的伟大空想、尚不明确的完善和进步这个大气球，他肯定会问：“你的菲迪亚斯〔26〕在哪儿？你的拉斐尔在哪儿？”

不过请相信，德拉克洛瓦先生的明智绝对无损他优雅的举止。这种强烈的怀疑态度，这种对谎言的拒绝，给他的谈话增添了一种拜伦式的味道，充满了诗意和色彩。他也从自身——即从他的天才，和对自身天才的认识中——而非长久的社交经验中获得了一种自信，一种完美的风度，以及一种彬彬有礼，它就像一面棱镜，从最热诚的友好到最无可指摘的拒绝中，都折射出这种彬彬有礼。他可以用二十多种方式说“我亲爱的先生”，一个经过训练的耳朵能够从中听出有丰富差异的情感。我必须补充一下，因为这在我看来是另一个值得称赞的理由，欧仁·德拉克洛瓦，尽管是一个天才，或者说因为他是一个完全的天才，所以身上有一种浪荡子的气质。他自己也承认，自己在年轻时曾纵情享乐，沉溺在浪荡作风的各种物质浮华中，他自我解嘲（但也带着某种虚荣）地说到，在朋友伯宁顿的帮助下，他曾经努力在时尚年轻人中灌输对英式鞋类和衣服的品味。这个细节，我想您不会觉得是多余的话，因为当我们在描述某个人的性情时，所有记忆都不是多余的。

我前面已经说过，对于敏锐的观察者，给他们留下深刻印象的是德拉克洛瓦灵魂中天然的部分，尽管我们精致的生活方式给灵魂罩上了一层面纱，模糊了它的真面目。德拉克洛瓦精力充沛，但是这精力源于勇气和意志；因为就体质来说，他是孱弱的。当我们这位伟大的画家整个灵魂都集中在一个想法上，或者想要控制一个梦时，他的眼睛里闪射着光芒，肌肉不耐烦地抽搐着，就像一只追踪猎物的老虎。他的面部特征，他的像秘鲁人或马来人的肤色，他大而黑的眼睛，在专注时因为眨动变小了，似乎是在品咂阳光，他浓密而亮泽的头发，固执的神色，紧闭的嘴唇，因为精神总是处于专注状态，所以脸上有一种残忍的表情，总之，他整个人都传递出一种异域风度。不止一次，我站在那里看着他，脑海中出现墨西哥的古代统治者蒙特祖马的形象，他那熟练于祭礼的双手，能够在一天之内，将三千人送到金字塔形的太阳祭坛上；或者像一位出现在最盛大节日上的印度王子，在他的眼睛深处，有一种未满足的渴望和无可逃避的怀恋，某种对未知之物的回忆和惋惜的东西。请注意，德拉克洛瓦绘画作品的整体色调，与东方风景和室内装饰相协调，营造出一种与在热带地区的感受相似的印象，在一双敏锐的眼睛看来，尽管画面有很强的立体感，但大量弥漫的光线造成一种类似黄昏的整体效果。如果我们可以在绘画上谈论道德的话，他的作品的道德观与恐怖有着明显的联系；他作品中的一切无不在讲述荒凉、大屠杀和火；一切都在控诉人类永不停止和无可救药的暴行；火光和浓烟中的城市，谋杀和强奸，孩子被扔到马蹄下或被因恐惧而精神错乱的母亲杀死；整个作品，我再说一次，就像一曲为命运和无法逃避的哀痛而谱的骇人圣歌。有时，他发现自己也可以用画笔表达温柔和舒适的情感，因为他当然不缺乏温柔；但是那种无法消除的痛苦依然强烈地存在着，而那种常常与简单愉悦相伴的轻松愉快，却是缺席的。只有那么一次，我想，他试图走滑稽有趣的路线，然而，他似乎感到这于他的性情并不适合，所以再没做第二次尝试。

六

我认识一些人，他们有权利说“我蔑视那些庸人”〔27〕，但是其中有谁能胜利地加上一句“我远离他们”？太频繁的握手使性格堕落。如果真有人有一座铜墙铁壁的“象牙塔”，那就是欧仁·德拉克洛瓦。有谁比他更爱自己的“象牙塔”，即他的隐私？我相信他会愿意用炮弹来武装它，把它挪在森林深处或者高不可攀的岩石上。有谁比他更热爱那既是自己的庇护所也是私室的家？别人寻找私室也许是为了狂欢；他则是为了寻找灵感，他沉溺在真正的狂欢——工作之中。“生活中唯一的智慧是集中精力，唯一的罪恶是分散精力。”我们前面引述的那位美国哲学家这样说道。

德拉克洛瓦应该也能写出这句格言；不管怎样，他是在严格地执行这句格言。他太过入世，所以不能不蔑视社会；他为避免显露本色而做出的努力，自然而然地使他更愿意与我们为伍。“我们”不只是指这个行当的谦卑作家，也有其他一些或年轻或年老的人，有记者，有诗人，也有音乐家，在这些人之中他可以自由地放松，抛掉自我。

李斯特在他关于肖邦的美妙文章中，将德拉克洛瓦列为最频繁拜访这位音乐家兼诗人的人，说他喜欢沉醉在那美妙热烈的音乐中，这乐声让人想起一只盘旋在恐怖深渊之上的色彩鲜艳的鸟儿。

于是，由于我们发自内心地仰慕先生，尽管当时还很年轻，也得到许可进入那间画室。尽管外面天气恶劣，这里却洋溢着赤道的温暖。进入画室，首先感受到的是一种有节制的庄严气氛，以及老派人特有的朴素，就像我们童年时见过的大卫的那些老对手的画室，这些有着动人的英雄主义情怀的人已经逝去很久了。人们清楚地感觉到，这处私室不可能住着一个思想轻浮、反复无常的人。

这里没有生锈的盔甲，没有马来人的阔头弯刀，没有古哥特式铁制品，没有廉价装饰，没有古衣物，没有小古董摆设，没有任何显示出主人喜爱时新玩意儿和沉溺于幼稚空想的东西。在这间宽敞的画室，触目可及的装饰只有画家不知从哪儿淘来的一幅乔登斯〔28〕的精美肖像画、几幅习作和他自己的仿作，这里住着一个沉思的灵魂，沐浴在柔和宁静的光线下。

这几幅仿作很可能会出现在德拉克洛瓦的作品拍卖会上，我听说，拍卖会的时间定在一月份。他在模仿上采取了两种截然不同的态度。一种是自由奔放的，由忠实和不忠实组合而成，他在其中融入了大量自己的风格。这个方式诞生了一种奇怪的令人愉悦的产物，将头脑置于一种不确定的和谐状态之中。在这种矛盾的伪装中我第一次见到了那幅鲁本斯《圣徒伯努瓦的奇迹》的仿作。在另一种方式中，德拉克洛瓦成为他的模特最顺从谦卑的奴隶，他的模仿精确到了让那些未曾目睹这种奇迹的人可能不相信的程度。例如，对藏于卢浮宫的拉斐尔的两幅人头像的仿作，对人物的表情、仪表和举止的模仿完美自然，完全可以乱真。

在一顿清淡的午餐后，德拉克洛瓦就像一个卖花女或卖布商，在画板上精心打理各种颜色，他努力重新抓住被打断的思绪；但是在进入激烈的工作之前，他常常感受到一种倦怠或恐惧，抑或一种恼怒，类似于当人想起从上帝面前逃离的女祭司或者让·雅克·卢梭时感受到的恼怒，后者在写作前要花整整一小时来闲荡、整理报纸和书籍。然而，一旦艺术家进入状态，就一发不可收拾，直到身体疲劳到极点才停下。

一天，当我们谈到画家和作家永远感兴趣的问题，即工作的保健作用和生活方式问题时，他对我说：“多年以前，我还年轻，当时只有想到晚上有乐趣可寻，我才能沉下心来工作。这乐趣可以是音乐、跳舞等。现在，我已不是学校的小男生了；我可以不停地工作，而不索要任何回报。而且，”他补充道，“就乐趣来说，您知道努力工作会让人变得多么胸怀宽广和容易取悦！一个工作到酣畅淋漓之人，即使只有街上的搬运工陪他一起玩纸牌，他也会很高兴。”

这番话让我想起与农夫一起玩骰子的马基雅维利。有一个星期天，我在卢浮宫看到德拉克洛瓦，身边陪着的是他的老女仆，她尽心尽力照顾他已经有三十年了。德拉克洛瓦，这个高雅、讲究、博学的人，却不带丝毫自负的神态，正在向这位可敬的妇人讲解亚述雕塑的奥秘，后者则在凝神聆听着。马基雅维利的形象和多年前一次谈话的记忆立刻在我的脑海中浮现。

事实是，在他的晚年，人们称为快乐的一切东西从他的生活中彻底消失了；替代它们的是唯一的、严苛的、糟糕的快乐：工作，这在当时不仅是一种热情，简直可以称为迷恋了。

在白天的所有时间里，德拉克洛瓦要么在画室，要么在脚手架上创作巨大的装饰画，即便如此，他依然从对艺术的热爱中找到了力量，如果晚上没有将在炉边的时间用来画画，没有借着台灯在画纸上挥洒梦想、计划和生活中偶然瞥见的形象，或者有时模仿与他气质完全相悖的画家的作品，他就会感觉这一天过得不充实；因为他喜欢做笔记和画素描，不管身在何处，都会致力于此。在相当长的时间里，他习惯晚上在朋友家做客时作画。这也解释了维洛先生〔29〕为什么拥有这位多产画家数量可观的精彩画作。

德拉克洛瓦先生曾对我认识的一个年轻人说：“如果你还没有掌握画一个正从四楼窗户坠落的人的诀窍，那你永远别指望有大成就。”我从这个极端夸张的说法中，发现了他一生致力的工作，众所周知，那就是，快速并精确地作画，不让一个粒子在动作的强度或思想中损失掉。

正如许多人看到的那样，德拉克洛瓦喜欢谈话。但有趣的是，他对谈话持怀疑态度，似乎那是一种堕落，一种自我放纵，担心这样是对精力的浪费。当你去到他的画室，他第一句话是：“如果你同意，今天早晨我们就不谈话了，或者就谈一小会儿。”

然后，他却连续谈了三个小时，他的谈话发人深省、洞察入微但又充满了事实、回忆和逸事，简言之，是一种富有教益的谈话。

当他受到反驳而情绪激动时，会立即收回自己的话；接下来，他不会向对手发起正面进攻，因为这可能将讲台上激烈的言辞交锋演变成画室里的冲突，他会选择与对手迂回一会儿，然后带着许多令人意想不到的论据和事实进行回击。这是一个以冲突为乐的人典型的谈话风格：先礼后兵，以退为进，惯用隐蔽和突袭。

在他的画室的亲切氛围中，他的谈话会无拘无束，甚至会谈到对同时代画家的看法，而特别在这些时候，我们常常会赞叹天才的宽容，这大约源自一种特殊的天真，或者一种对享乐的随和。

他对德岗〔30〕抱有一种不可思议的敬意，虽然德岗今天已不太受欢迎，但无疑由于记忆的力量，他在德拉克洛瓦的心中还占据着重要地位。他对夏雷也怀着同样的敬意。有一次，他把我叫到家里大加申斥，起因是我写的一篇对这位沙文主义的宠儿不敬的文章。我向他解释，这篇文章攻击的不是早期的夏雷，而是晚期颓废派的夏雷；那时的他不是研究拿破仑退伍军人的可敬历史学家，而是酒馆里的一位才子，但我的努力却徒劳无功。最终我也没有得到他的原谅。

他也欣赏安格尔〔31〕的一些作品，可以肯定的是，他需要一种强大的批判能力，才能通过理性的力量欣赏自己的气质本能排斥的事物。他甚至还曾精心模仿安格尔的一些笔触细腻的铅笔画，安格尔先生敏锐而卓越的天资，在这些画里最受好评，越是受限就越能看出功力。

贺拉斯·威尔奈作品的糟糕色调没有妨碍德拉克洛瓦感受画家笔触的自然力量，正是这力量赋予了他大多数画作以生命力，他还用惊人的语言对这种汩汩而出的不倦能量进行赞颂。他对梅松尼尔〔32〕的仰慕有些过分。他几乎是通过强力得到了《街垒》的草图，这是梅松尼尔最好的一幅作品。梅松尼尔的天才用铅笔来表现远比油画笔来得有力。关于梅松尼尔，德拉克洛瓦常说这么一句话，像是对前途感到一种不安似的：“在我们所有人中，最可能流芳百世的到底还是他。”看到一位创作出伟大作品的画家，几乎是嫉妒一位只是擅于小幅画作的画家，不是很奇怪的吗？

唯一一位能让这位画家的贵族嘴唇蹦出粗俗形容词的是保罗·德拉罗什。对这位画家的作品，他找不出一丁点可以原谅的东西。他对那肮脏而糟糕的画作让他遭受的折磨记忆深刻，正如特奥菲尔·戈蒂埃〔33〕所说，这些画是“用墨水和鞋油”创作出来的。

但是他最愿意与之高谈阔论的人，恰是与他在才能和观点上最不相像的，与他截然相反的人，这个人的头脑虽然像他家乡的天空一样被雾霾笼罩，面目难辨，却包含着许多令人钦佩的东西。我说的这个人是保罗·什纳瓦〔34〕。

这位来自里昂的画家和哲学家的深奥理论，让德拉克洛瓦忍俊不禁。这位抽象的教育家认为纯绘画带来的感官快感如果不是有罪的，也是轻佻的东西。然而，不管他们彼此相距如何遥远，也许正因为这种遥远，他们喜欢聚在一起，就像用铁链锁在一起的两条船，再也分不开了。而且，因为两人都很有学问，都具有杰出的交际能力，他们可以在学术上找到共识。众所周知，这并非画家通常具备的品质。

因此，保罗·什纳瓦是德拉克洛瓦的绝佳对手。在一旁看他们唇枪舌剑，真是一种乐趣。如果一个人说出的话像一头全副披挂的大象，拖着沉重的脚步走上阵去，另一个人的话则如同一柄剑那般充满生气，锋利、灵活地前来迎战。在临终前，我们这位伟大的画家想握一握他这位友好的反驳者的手，而后者那时却远离巴黎。

七

德拉克洛瓦像米开朗琪罗一样（您还记得他的一首十四行诗的结尾吧：“雕塑！神圣的雕塑，汝之艺术是吾唯一之爱！”），将绘画视为自己唯一的缪斯、情人、独一无二和源源不断的乐趣源泉，得知这一点，也许会让多情和做作的女人大吃一惊。

无疑，在年少轻狂的岁月里，他也曾热衷于追逐女人。在这个危险偶像的圣坛上，谁没有做过牺牲呢？而不正是那些对女人服务最殷勤的男人，对她们的抱怨也最多？早在很久以前，德拉克洛瓦就将女人排除在他的生活之外。如果他是一个穆斯林，大概不会将女人逐出清真寺，但因为他压根不理解女人能与安拉有怎样的对话，所以看到女人进入清真寺就足以令他感到吃惊。

在这个问题上，他的思想完全是东方的，正如在其他许多问题上一样。女人在他眼中是一件艺术品，令人愉悦，激发灵感；然而，如果我们放任她走入心灵，她就变成了一个桀骜不驯的东西，贪婪地吞噬着我们的时间和精力。

我还记得曾经在某个公共场合，我指给他看一位神情忧伤的绝色美人。他勉强认同了她的美，但带着特有的笑声跟我说：“你怎么会觉得一个女人会忧伤？”这句话无疑在暗示，在女人身上，缺乏某种能够体验忧伤情绪的本质的东西。

很不幸，这是一个极不讨人喜欢的理论。我自己也不想去宣扬这些理论，去中伤另一个时常表现出强烈美德的性别；然而不得不承认这是一个谨慎的理论。在一个充满美女陷阱的世界上，一个才子再谨慎也不为过；一个天才有权利坚持某些理论（只要没有威胁到公共秩序），而这些理论若出自普通公民或普通家庭的父亲，就会使我们产生反感。

我必须补充一句，他对孩子也同样没有好感，在忧郁的人看来，这会让人们对他的缅怀笼上阴影。在他的思想中，孩子总是手指上沾着果酱（弄脏画布和画纸），不停地敲鼓（扰乱人的思想），像猴子一样具有煽动性，充满了危险的动物情绪。

“我清楚记得，”他有时会谈到，“我小时候就是个小恶魔。责任感的获得是一个很缓慢的过程；只有在经过了苦难、惩罚和理智的漫长训练之后，人才能逐渐地销蚀掉他与生俱来的恶习。”

就这样，他只是通过简单的判断，回归了天主教的教义。他认为，比之于成人，孩子更为接近原罪。

八

德拉克洛瓦似乎将他所有的情感都珍藏起来，贡献给了严肃的友谊，这些情感是阳刚的、深沉的。有一些人很容易喜欢上第一个见到的人；其他人则把这种神圣能力留给庄重的大场合。我正在津津乐道的这位名人，他可能不愿意被小事烦扰，但是在紧要关头，他会雪中送炭、一往无前、古道热肠。那些与他熟识的人，曾无数次见证过他在社会交往中表现出的忠诚不渝、谨小慎微和值得信赖，这些都是英国人的典型美德。如果说他对别人苛刻，那他对自己也没有宽容半分。

在这里，我还要提一下对欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的指责，虽然这让我感觉难过和不悦。我曾听人说他自私甚至贪财。请注意，先生，这些话总是出自无数庸人之口，攻击那些不辞劳苦的慷慨济人者，这慷慨既出于友谊，也出于关心。

德拉克洛瓦在管理钱财上很仔细，因为只有这样才让他可以不时慷慨解囊。我可以举几个这方面的例子，但是没有他和那些应该感谢他的人的允许，我也不方便这么做。

还有一点请注意，有许多年，他的画只能卖到很低的价钱，他的那些装饰画几乎吞掉了他全部的薪水。当一些穷艺术家跟他索要作品时，他的表现也证明了对金钱的蔑视。这时，就像那些个性自由而慷慨的医生，有时坚持要求付费，有时免费赠送，他会白送他的画或随便收点钱。

先生，最后，请记住，卓越之人比之其他人，尤其要留心保护自己。如果说全社会都与他为敌也不为过，我们曾不止一次验证这一点。他的礼貌被人说成冷漠；他的讽刺，不论怎样柔和，都被视为恶意；他的节俭呢，就成了吝啬。如果反过来，这个不幸的人挥霍无度，那社会非但不会对他表示同情，还会说：“活该！他这样挥霍，迟早变成穷光蛋。”

我可以肯定地说，在金钱和节俭上，德拉克洛瓦的观点与司汤达完全一致，即将伟大与谨慎统一起来。

司汤达曾说：“智者应该致力于取得必要的金钱，使自己不必依靠任何人（在司汤达的时代，这笔钱指年收入六千法郎）。而如果获得了这种保障后，还要浪费时间继续积累财富，那这个人就是个恶棍了。”

追求必要的，蔑视多余的，这就是智者与坚忍克己之人的做法。

我们的这位画家，在晚年时，最关心的一件事是后世对他的评价，以及他的作品传世的不确定性。在某个时刻，想到不朽的荣耀，他的想象力会炽烈得像着了火；在另一个时刻，他会失落地谈到画布和色彩的虚弱性。而在其他时候，他会不无嫉妒地谈到历史上的大师，他们中几乎所有人的作品都被技术高超的雕刻家选中，雕刻家用手中的针和刻刀将大师的天才表现出来；德拉克洛瓦则悲叹他还没有找到自己作品的雕刻家。与印刷作品的持久相比，绘画艺术作品的易损，也是他经常谈到的一个话题。

这个既脆弱又顽强，既敏感又大胆的人，这个在欧洲艺术年鉴上独树一帜的人，这个身体虚弱、冷淡，永远梦想在墙上涂抹自己强大构想的艺术家，在一次肺炎发作后离开了人世，而他对此已有预感。他的离开，让我们感受到一种精神的消沉和不断增长的孤独感，就像夏多布里昂和巴尔扎克的离世，而最近又是维尼〔35〕的离世带给我们的那种感受。在这个举国哀悼的时刻，在人类整体的活力处于低潮之时，有一片类似日蚀的阴影笼罩了知识界，这是对世界末日的一次暂时的模仿。

然而，我想，对他的离去感受尤为强烈的是这样一些人，他们在灵魂高贵的孤独中，只是靠着思想的联系，成功地找到了自己的圈子。至于其他公民，只有在很长时间之后，他们才会慢慢了解，自己的国家因为这位伟人的离去而蒙受的巨大损失，以及他的离世所留下的空白。即使那时还需要向他们不断讲明这一点。

我衷心地感谢您，先生，谢谢您容许我在对这位杰出天才的缅怀中畅所欲言，他生活在一个不幸的时代，这个时代既贫穷又富庶，有时过于苛刻，有时又过分宽容，而过于常见的却是不公。

注　释

〔1〕欧仁·德拉克洛瓦（Eugène Delacroix, 1798—1863）：法国著名画家，浪漫主义画派的典型代表。他继承和发展了文艺复兴以来欧洲各艺术流派，包括威尼斯画派、荷兰画派、P. P. 鲁本斯和J. 康斯特布尔等艺术家的成就和传统，并影响了以后的艺术家，特别是印象主义画家。

〔2〕泰奥菲勒·西勒维斯特尔（Théophile Silvestre, 1823—1876）：法国艺术批评家及历史学家。

〔3〕夏尔·勒布伦（Charles Lebrun, 1619—1690）：17世纪法国首席宫廷画家，也是当时最有权势的艺术家。曾为凡尔赛宫和卢浮宫做过大量的壁画和天顶画，被路易十四称为“有史以来法国最伟大的艺术家”。

〔4〕皮埃尔·纳西斯·圭林（Pierre-Narcisse Guerin, 1744—1833）：法国新古典主义画家和石版画家。

〔5〕阿里奥斯托（Ludovico Ariosto, 1474—1533）：意大利文艺复兴时期诗人，代表作为《疯狂的罗兰》（Orlando Furioso）。

〔6〕H. 保罗·德拉罗什（Hippolyte-Paul Delaroche, 1797—1859）：法国著名学院派画家，法国历史画家中自然主义的创始人，消极浪漫主义的代表人物之一。他的影响遍及全欧洲，特别对比利时、德国和英国影响更大。

〔7〕天使传报（Annonciation）：指天使加百列（Gabriel）向马利亚传报耶稣将通过马利亚成胎而降生，见《圣经·新约》。

〔8〕颓废主义是19世纪下半叶欧洲资产阶级知识分子对资本主义社会表示不满而又无力反抗所产生的苦闷彷徨情绪在文艺领域中的反映。德拉克洛瓦1863年去世，他最后一幅伟大作品已经得到“颓废”一词的评价，所以说他比同时代的人超前。

〔9〕普桑（Nicolas Poussin, 1594—1665）：17世纪法国巴洛克时期重要画家，也是17世纪法国古典主义绘画的奠基人。

〔10〕普吕东（Pierre-Paul Prud'hon, 1758—1823）：法国大革命时期极具浪漫气息、独树一帜的画家。艺术上受文艺复兴诸名家，特别是达·芬奇和科雷乔的影响。作品追求古典美，富于感情色彩。代表作《“正义”与神圣的“复仇”追逐“罪恶”》、《西风神劫走普塞克》、《约瑟芬皇后》。

〔11〕拉·封丹（Jean de la Fontaine, 1621—1695）：法国古典文学的代表作家之一，著名的寓言诗人。他的作品经后人整理为《拉·封丹寓言》，与古希腊著名寓言诗人伊索的《伊索寓言》及俄国著名作家克雷洛夫所著的《克雷洛夫寓言》并称为世界三大寓言。

〔12〕布瓦洛（Nicolas Boileau Despreaux, 1636—1711）：法国诗人、文学理论家。被称为古典主义的立法者和发言人。最重要的文艺理论专著是1674年的《诗的艺术》。这部作品集中表现了他的哲学及美学思想，被誉为古典主义的法典。

〔13〕马莱伯（François de Malherbe, 1555—1628）：法国诗人。1605年到巴黎后的第一首诗《为亨利大王陛下利穆桑之行祝福》（1605），博得亨利四世的赏识。从此，马莱伯即以波旁王朝的官方诗人的姿态出现，所作诗歌多为祝颂之作。

〔14〕第一帝国（First Empire, 1804—1815）：法国拿破仑一世统治时期的资产阶级军事专制国家。

〔15〕爱默生（Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1803—1882）：生于美国波士顿。美国思想家、文学家、诗人。爱默生是确立美国文化精神的代表人物。美国前总统林肯称他为“美国的孔子”、“美国文明之父”。

〔16〕塞内加（Lucius Annaeus Seneca，前4—后65）：古罗马哲学家、政治家和剧作家，尼禄皇帝的老师，因涉嫌谋杀尼禄而被迫自杀，哲学著作有《论天命》、《论忿怒》、《论幸福》等，悲剧有《美狄亚》、《奥狄浦斯》等九部。

〔17〕超验主义（American Transcendentalism）：美国的一个重要思潮，它兴起于19世纪30年代的新英格兰地区，波及其他地方，成为美国思想史上一次重要的思想解放运动。它是与拉尔夫·爱默生以及梭罗相关的一种文学和哲学运动，宣称存在一种理想的精神实体，超越于经验和科学之外，可以通过直觉得以把握。

〔18〕孟德斯鸠（Montesquieu, 1689—1755）：法国启蒙思想家、社会学家，是西方国家学说和法学理论的奠基人。

〔19〕拿破仑·波拿巴（Napoléon Bonaparte, 1769—1821）：法兰西第一共和国执政、法兰西第一帝国皇帝。

〔20〕指1848年二月革命中，德拉克洛瓦的一些画遭到破坏。

〔21〕维克多·雅克蒙（Victor Jacquemont, 1801—1832）：法国植物学家和地质学家。

〔22〕梵天（Brahmā）：印度教的创造之神，与毗湿奴、湿婆并称三主神。他的坐骑为孔雀（或天鹅），配偶为智慧女神辩才天女，故梵天也常被认为是智慧之神。

〔23〕普罗斯佩·梅里美（Prosper Mérimée, 1803—1870）：法国现实主义作家、中短篇小说大师、剧作家、历史学家。他是著名歌剧《卡门》的作者。

〔24〕德·拉帕利斯（Jacques de Chabannes, seigneur de la Palisse, 1470—1525）：法国著名军事将领。

〔25〕费拉里（Giuseppe Ferrari, 1811—1876）：意大利作家。

〔26〕菲迪亚斯（Phidias，前480—前430）：古希腊的雕刻家、画家和建筑师，被公认为最伟大的古典雕刻家。雅典人。其著名作品为世界七大奇迹之一的宙斯巨像和巴特农神殿的雅典娜巨像。

〔27〕原文为拉丁文：Odi Profanum vulgus，语出贺拉斯《颂歌》，下面一句是“我远离他们”。

〔28〕乔登斯（Jacob Jordaens, 1593—1678）：17世纪西班牙统治下尼德兰地区的著名画家及壁毯设计师，安特卫普学派代表人物，与鲁本斯和凡·戴克并称“佛兰德斯巴洛克艺术三杰”。

〔29〕维洛（Fredric Villot, 1809—1875）：法国雕刻家。1833年，德拉克洛瓦向费德瑞克·维洛学习铜版腐蚀法的技巧，他从1827年便结识维洛，二人一直维持朋友关系；德拉克洛瓦常旅居香帕塞（Champrosay），维洛在那里有一幢别墅。

〔30〕德岗（Alexandre-Gabriel Decamps, 1803—1860）：法国画家。

〔31〕安格尔（Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1780—1867）：法国画家。

〔32〕梅松尼尔（Jean Louis Ernest Meissonier, 1815—1891）：法国画家。他的前期作品，如《争吵》属于风俗画。后期作品以历史和军事为题材。他关于拿破仑一世战争的作品刻画非常细致，代表作为《1814年法国战役》。

〔33〕特奥菲尔·戈蒂埃（Théophile Gautier, 1811—1872）：法国19世纪重要的诗人、小说家、戏剧家和文艺批评家。

〔34〕保罗·什纳瓦（Paul Chenavard, 1808—1895）：法国画家。曾在安格尔的画室学习，后来受到德国哲学和绘画的影响，认为艺术的目的应是人道主义和具有教化功能的。

〔35〕维尼（Alfred de Vigny, 1797—1863）：法国诗人、剧作家和小说家。主要作品有历史小说《桑·马尔斯》（1826）、中篇小说集《军人的荣誉与屈辱》（1835）、剧本《夏特东》（1835）等。

论1859年的沙龙

——致《法兰西评论》编辑的信

一、现代艺术家

亲爱的M先生：

很荣幸受您之邀，就沙龙写一篇评论文章，您在信中说：“要简短；不要一一列举，而是写一篇概览，类似于在展览上轻松漫步式的文字。”好，您的愿望会完全得到满足，不是因为您的提议恰好与我对这类称为“沙龙”的无趣文章的看法一致（不过我们确实观点相同），也不是因为这种作文方式要更加容易，要知道，简短总是比冗长更费力气，而仅仅是因为，尤其是在目前情况下，其他方式都行不通。当然了，如果我发觉自己迷失在原创画作的森林中，如果现代法国人的性情突然发生变化，在它被净化了的、恢复活力的状态下，开放出绚烂而芬芳的各式花朵，我下笔会更加困难，因为那样我会发出一系列无法抑制的“噢啊”之类的惊奇之声，笔下流出溢美之词和堆砌辞藻的赞赏，并产生对批评语言中新类别的需求。然而对我而言幸运的是，这些都没有发生。没有情感的突然喷发，没有未经发掘的天才出现。由这个沙龙所引起的思考是如此简单，如此老式，如此传统，毫无疑问，只需寥寥数页，我就能把这些想法表达出来。不要感到惊讶，因为画家的平庸会导致作家的陈词滥调。在任何情况下，写陈词滥调都是安全的，因为没有什么东西比它更迷人、更富有成效和更令人兴奋了（我很高兴在这一点上您和我看法一致）。

在开始前，请允许我先表达一种难以言喻的遗憾。本来我们被告知，展览上会有一些我们不熟悉的客人；因为之前的蒙田大道展览，向常看展览的巴黎人介绍了一些他们相见恨晚的魅力四射的艺术家。所以，我一早就热切盼望着能与这些艺术家再见面，其中有莱斯利，那个富有、天真和高贵的幽默作家，他是英国思想最强有力的化身之一；大小亨特，一个是固执的自然主义画家〔1〕，另外一个是热切而坚定的拉斐尔前派的创始人〔2〕；麦克利斯〔3〕，那位大胆的绘画大师，他笔触的冲动鲁莽也透露出足够的自信；米莱斯〔4〕，一位在细节描绘上一丝不苟的诗人；约翰·夏隆〔5〕，他融合了克劳德·洛兰〔6〕和华多〔7〕的画风，记录了在美丽的意大利公园里举行下午游园会的场景；格兰特〔8〕，那位雷诺兹的天然继承人；胡克〔9〕，他给自己梦中的威尼斯笼罩上神奇的光线；那位奇怪的帕顿爵士〔10〕，他的作品把人们带回亨利·富塞利〔11〕时代，带着属于另一个时代的耐心，他精心描绘了众神混战的动人场面；乔治·卡特莫尔〔12〕，一位用水彩描画历史场景的画家；还有另外一位令人讶异的艺术家，名字我忘记了，他是一位建筑家和梦想家，在纸上建起了城市，里面的桥由大象雕塑支撑着，在大象腿下，带着三个桅杆的大型纵帆船正满帆而行！墙上甚至都为这些充满想象力、创造不寻常色彩效果的朋友们，为这些怪诞的缪斯所垂青的人们预留了地方；然而，唉！因为我所不知道的原因，我想也不适合在您的报纸上发表，我的希望破灭了。就这样，那些悲剧的火焰，基恩和麦克雷迪式的手势，对家的深刻研究，反映在英国人思想诗境中的东方辉煌，苏格兰的青翠草木，迷人的凉亭，富有层次的水彩画，它使有限的画面显得像舞台布景一样宽敞，我们是看不到你们了，起码这次是看不到了。噢！你们这些想象力和灵魂的最宝贵才能的热情代表，你们是在第一次到来时受到了无礼对待吗，还是认为我们不配理解你们？

所以，亲爱的M先生，我们将不得不满足于法国现有的作品；但是相信我，没什么比高声赞美自己国家的艺术家让我更愉悦；遗憾的是，对于一个有经验的批判的头脑来说，爱国主义没有起到绝对主宰的作用，我们要承认一些丢脸的事。这次，我刚进入沙龙，便在楼梯上遇到了一位最敏锐、最受敬重的批评家，对我问的第一个问题，你应该能猜到是什么，他回答道：“沉闷，平庸，我几乎从没见过这么令人沮丧的沙龙。”他的话不能说不正确，也不能说正确。一个展出大量欧仁·德拉克洛瓦、潘基利〔13〕和弗洛芒丹〔14〕作品的展览不会是令人沮丧的；但从整体上看，我发觉他的话也有道理。确实，在每一个时代唱主角的都是平庸的，这是无可辩驳的；正如展览令人沮丧一样，这也是事实，因为平庸的支配力量比以往更强大了，已经到了碍眼的程度。放眼望去，整个展览就是许多陈词滥调的大团圆，这许多垃圾都用画笔认真地涂抹过，许多愚蠢或华而不实的失误被熟练地构建。接下来，我想到了过去的艺术家，并与今天的艺术家放在一起比较；然而，就像往常一样，在我令人气馁的思考结束后，那个可怕的、永恒的“为什么？”不可避免地摆在我面前。在艺术和文学这两大领域，卑微、幼稚、缺乏好奇心和乏味的愚蠢似乎已经取代了热情、高贵和奔涌的梦想；目前我们还不能奢望任何能与波旁王朝复辟时期相提并论的精神上的百花齐放出现。请相信，我不是唯一一个为这些令人不快的思考而在精神上感到压迫的人；马上我就会证明这一点。我自问道：“在过去，艺术家应该是什么样的呢（比如勒布伦或大卫）？”勒·布伦是博学、富有想象力、深谙历史和热爱富丽堂皇的代表。大卫，那位被自己的许多忠实追随者中伤的伟人，他不也是热爱历史、热爱富丽堂皇、博学多识吗？而今天，艺术家——这个诗人曾经的兄弟——又是怎样的呢？要圆满回答这个问题，亲爱的M先生，我们一定不能太宽容。不光彩的偏袒有时也需要同样的反作用力。艺术家身上缺少美德，他们在今天以及在过去许多年，都不过是一个被惯坏的孩子。想想那些浪费在没有灵魂和教养的人身上的荣誉和金钱吧！就我而言，我当然不支持引进一种与现有艺术手段不相融的手法；然而，举个例子，我会忍不住对什纳瓦这样的艺术家感到同情，他永远是那么讨人喜欢、令人愉快，就像好书一样，即使在最乏味的题材上也是那么优雅。至少我知道我能和他谈论维吉尔和柏拉图（就算他成为艺术学生的笑料我又怎么会介意？）。普雷奥特〔15〕有一种令人愉快的天赋，他在与生俱来的品位的引领下找到美，就像一头猛兽扑到它的天然猎物身上一样。奥诺雷·杜米埃被赋予了敏锐的辨识力，这让他的整个谈话都熠熠生辉。里卡尔〔16〕，虽然他的谈话令人炫目，有时会不连贯，但时时能让人感觉到他知识丰富，曾进行过许多对比性研究。我想，我不必再提欧仁·德拉克洛瓦的谈话了，那是充实的哲学内容、巧智和燃烧的热情的绝妙结合。除他们之外，我想不到任何够得上与哲学家或诗人对话的人了。除了他们，你能找到的几乎都是惯坏的孩子。请告诉我，我恳求您，在哪一个客厅，哪一个酒馆，在怎样的社交或私下聚会上，您从一个被惯坏的孩子口中听到过任何诙谐话，任何深刻、智慧、意味深长的言语，任何发人深省、引人幻想的言语，简言之，任何一句值得注意的话！如果这样一句话在交谈中出现，它也许不是出自一个政客或者哲学家之口，但说出这话的人一定从事着某个不寻常的职业，比如猎人、水手、修椅子的，但不会是一个艺术家——那个被惯坏的孩子，永远不会！

这个被惯坏的孩子从前辈那里继承了一种在那个时代是合理的特权。人们对大卫、圭林、吉洛德〔17〕、格罗〔18〕、德拉克洛瓦、波宁顿〔19〕的热情，他今天忝承余荫；当优秀的诗人和勤奋的历史学家辛苦谋生之时，愚蠢的金融家在花大价钱买这些被惯坏的孩子创作的不知所谓的作品。请不要误会，如果值得敬重的人获得这种恩惠，我是不会发牢骚的。如果是一位到达艺术巅峰的歌唱家或舞蹈家，她每天努力工作，承担风险，最后成为富翁，我是不会嫉妒的。否则，那我恐怕会步去世的吉哈丹的后尘，制造骗人的记忆，他曾谴责泰奥菲尔·戈蒂耶〔20〕给自己想象力的标价比专区区长的薪水还要高。如果你还记得，在一个倒霉的日子，他用拉丁语对吓坏的众人说道：畜生说话了！不，我不会那么不讲理；当德拉克洛瓦的一幅佳作标价一千法郎都无人问津，而梅松尼尔的一幅无足轻重的小画却能卖到十倍甚至二十倍的价钱时，我们应该提高嗓门谴责今天人们的愚蠢。但是那些快乐的日子结束了；今天的我们已经愈加堕落，梅松尼尔先生尽管有其优点，但不幸的是，他首创了篇幅较小的画，并使之成为流行品味，不过跟今天那些华而不实的小画的创作者比起来，他是真正的大师。

想象力变得不可信，高贵受到蔑视，爱（不，这个词太美了）——一味追求技巧，这些，在我看来，是艺术家水准下降的主要原因。想象力越丰富，对技巧的掌握相应地一定要越娴熟，如果后者要在冒险征途上与前者步伐一致，就要成功克服想象力所热切寻找的困难。画家的技巧越娴熟，就越不该炫耀技巧，只有这样，他的想象力才能得以凸显，并熠熠生辉。智慧如是说，并补充道，空有技巧的人是笨蛋，而富有想象力却缺乏技巧的人是疯子。这些道理看似简单，但今天的艺术家却似乎并不懂。一个看门人的女儿自言自语道：“我要上音乐学校，首次登台演出要在国家大剧院〔21〕，我要演高乃依〔22〕剧作中的人物，像以前曾经扮演这些角色的人那样获得肯定。”她说到做到。她的嗓音无比单调，本人也是极度乏味和无知，但她却成功做到了一件十分容易的事，即靠着自己的耐性，成为了国家大剧院的正式演员。而那个被惯坏的孩子——现代画家——也自言自语道：“他们所谓的想象力是什么？既危险又令人厌倦。对历史的研究和思考又是什么？不过是浪费时间而已。我要走古典路线，不是伯汀〔23〕那种（因为古典改变它的地点和名字），而是像……康斯坦·特罗容〔24〕那样的。”他说到做到。他挥毫作画，缚住自己的灵魂，直到自己的风格和流行画家一样。就这样，他凭借自己的愚蠢和技巧，得到了公众的肯定和金钱。他靠模仿别人成名，别人又模仿他，这样，每个人都在做着成名的美梦，越来越紧地缚住自己的灵魂，尤其是什么书也不读了，甚至连烹饪书都不碰了，这至少可以让他得到一个即使不太多金也更为光明的前途。一旦他掌握了调味、盛盘、浇糖浆、调肉汁、炖（我说的是绘画）等技巧，这个被惯坏的孩子开始装腔作势，用比以往更笃定的口吻重复道，其他一切都是没有必要的。

曾经有个德国农夫去见一位画家，下面是他对画家所说的话：“先生，我想让您为我画这样一幅肖像。在我家农场的大门口，我坐在一张父亲传给我的宽扶手椅上，妻子拿着她的女红在我身边，女儿们在近旁忙着准备晚餐。画面左边是一条宽敞的道路，我的儿子正从那里走来，他们干完农活正回家来，牛已经牵回了牛圈；我其他几个儿子正同我的孙子们一起，把装满干草的农场大车遮盖起来。另外，请别忘记画上我烟管里冒出来的被夕阳染上红色的烟圈。我还想让看这幅画的人听到从附近教堂的钟楼传来的祈祷钟声，那里是我家祖祖辈辈结婚的地方。还有很重要的一点，你要画出我在一天的这一刻，看着我的家人和我的财富所感受到的满足，而又一天劳作的结束更增加了这种满足感。”

请为这位农夫大声喝彩！他自己可能意识不到，但他理解了绘画。对自己职业的热爱提升了他的想象力。在我们的流行画家中，有谁能画出这样一幅画来？又有谁的想象力能跟这位农夫媲美？

二、现代大众与摄影

亲爱的M先生：

如果要博你一笑，那真是易如反掌，只要随便翻阅一下目录，把其中博眼球的可笑题目和主题拉一个清单出来即可。这是典型的法国人的态度。对于没有绘画天分的人来说，通过那些与艺术不搭边的手段让观众瞠目，是很好的手段。有时，一些极富天分的人染上这种陋习，他们用一种近乎邪恶的组合羞辱艺术，而这种人总是出现在法国。我可以向你一一展示那些戏剧化的作品题目，就像歌舞杂耍表演游行队伍一样，在你眼前一一掠过，其中有充满感情色彩的题目，只差一个感叹号了；有双关语的题目；有深沉哲思的题目；还有一些误导人或者陷阱题目，如《布鲁图：卑鄙的恺撒》。

“噢，你们这个堕落和没有信仰的民族，”我们的主说，“我还要跟你们在一起多久，我还要继续受苦受难多久？”这个民族，不管是艺术家还是普通大众，对绘画如此缺乏信仰，因此永远尝试伪装，外面包上糖衣药丸，就像是某种难吃的药品——这是什么糖啊！是啊，上帝！请让我选出两张画作的题目，顺便说一句，这两幅画我还没见过：《爱与炖兔肉》！你的好奇心一下子就被勾了起来，不是吗？我也在努力将这两个概念联系起来，爱与一只被炖的剥皮兔子。你不能期望我来假设，画家的想象力超凡，在一只家畜的尸体上，加上一个箭袋、一对翅膀和一个眼罩；那样的话，它的寓意真的会晦涩了。我更倾向于相信这个题目是生搬硬套来的，循着《厌世与忏悔》的格式。所以真正的题目应该是“一对爱人吃炖兔肉”。这样问题又来了：他们是年轻的还是年老的，是一个工人和他的女朋友，还是一个老兵和他的情妇坐在一个覆满灰尘的棚架下？只有那幅画能告诉我了。我们还有《君主制、天主教徒与士兵》！这幅画属于那种夸张的骑士类型，《耶路撒冷的巴黎路线》的类型（查理大帝，我向你致歉！最高贵的事物能成为漫画的手段，一位帝国领导的话语会成为涂鸦者的讽刺画）。这幅画上一定有一个人同时在做三件事：战斗、参加圣餐仪式、参加路易十四的“起床前仪式”〔25〕。又或者画的是一个有百合花和宗教图案纹身的军人？然而胡乱猜想有什么好处呢？一个简单的事实是，这类题目只是一些令人反感和枯燥乏味的手段，目的是博人眼球。而尤为可叹的是，那幅画可能是一幅好画，不管它的题目听起来有多奇怪。这也适用于《爱与炖兔肉》那幅画。我还注意到一组精美的雕刻，但很可惜没有记下它的编号；当我想要查找这组雕刻的主题时，我仔细翻阅了目录四遍，却徒劳无功。最后还是您善意地告诉我，这组雕刻名为《永远与曾经》。看到一个天才居然取了这样一个字谜似的题目，我真的感觉难过。

请您一定原谅我以廉价报纸的方式来取乐。但是，不管这件事在您看来多么不值一提，仔细探究之下，您就会发现一种可悲的症状。请允许我用一种自相矛盾的方式来总结我的观点，让我问问您，或者那些比我更熟知艺术历史的朋友们，为愚人的品味和为智者的品味是否从来都是存在的，诸如“供出租的公寓”这样过分精练的观点是否在某个时代都有，并像今天一样引起同样程度的热情，委罗内塞和巴萨诺〔26〕的威尼斯是否也曾受过这种字谜的影响，朱利·罗曼诺〔27〕、米开朗琪罗和班迪内利〔28〕是否都曾为类似的怪物而愕然；简单说，我就是想知道比亚德先生〔29〕是否像上帝一样永恒存在，并无处不在。我不相信，我把这些恐怖事物看作一种赋予法国人的恩惠的特殊形式。它们的艺术家确实赋予了它们这种品味，而它们确实也让艺术家满足了这一需要，因为如果艺术家愚弄了大众，那么大众也会以其人之道还治其人之身。他们形成环环相扣的两个条件，相互施加同等的影响。与此相应，让我们看看，我们正在“进步”的道路上以怎样的速度行进（这里所说的进步指的是对事物渐进的控制），也许仅凭耐心就能获得的平凡技能每天在以怎样的速度扩散。

在这个国家，天生的画家，就像天生的诗人一样，几乎是个怪物。我们对“真”的品味（这一品味如果限制在它正当的目的是如此高贵），压迫并扼杀了对“美”的品味。当只有该寻找美时——比如在一幅美丽的画上，任何人都能很容易猜到我想到的那种——我们的同胞却只寻找真。他们没有艺术品味，他们的品味不是与生俱来的，他们可能是哲学家，或者伦理学家、工程师、启发性逸事的爱好者等等，但一定不是天生有艺术鉴赏力的。他们会渐进地、分解式地去感受，或者不如说评判。其他一些更幸运的人，他们感受事物更快，能以一种综合的方式来感受。

我刚才提到一些艺术家，他们的目的就是要使观众瞠目结舌。想令人震惊或让自己感受震惊，这一欲望是完全合理的。“感到震惊是一种幸福”，而且“有梦想是一种幸福”。如果你坚持让我给你一个艺术家或艺术爱好者的头衔，那全部的问题就是，你打算通过何种手段来创造或感受这种震惊？因为美总是包含着使人震惊的成分，认为令人惊叹的总是美的，这种想法是荒唐的。现在的法国人，就像一些卑劣矮小的灵魂一样，尤其无法感受到梦想或者惊讶带来的快乐，而他们却想通过一些与艺术无关的手段来获得震惊带来的刺激，他们恭顺的艺术家向大众品味屈膝了；他们用一些小伎俩，目的就是吸引眼球，让人们惊讶，使人们目瞪口呆，因为他们知道，人们无法从真正的艺术的自然形式中获得陶醉。

在这个可悲的时代，一个新的工业形式发展起来，它很大程度地让愚人树立了自信，并毁掉了法国人头脑中残存的一点神圣痕迹。自然地，崇拜偶像的大众呼唤出现一个货真价实的理想，与自己的特性保持一致。在绘画和雕塑艺术领域，今天老于世故之人的信条，特别是在法国（我相信没人敢发表相反的说法），是这样说的：“我信仰自然，并且只信仰自然。”（对此我们有充足的理由。）“我相信艺术是，而且只能是，对自然的精确复制。”（如果有一些胆怯和持异议的人提出反例，那举出的一定是本身就令人讨厌的物件，比如便壶，或者骷髅）“如果一个工业程序能提供给我们一种与自然一模一样的产品，那将是绝对的艺术。”报复心重的上帝听到这些人的祈祷后，便派来他的弥赛亚——达盖尔〔30〕。然后，这些人说道：“既然摄影能绝对复制自然（他们居然相信，可怜的狂人！），那么艺术就是摄影。”从那一刻起，我们可厌的社会便像纳喀索斯一样，趋之若鹜地从相机的金属盘上看那些不值一提的影像了。愚蠢和狂热攫住了这些新时代的太阳崇拜者，一批令人讨厌的人出现了。人们集中起一群男男女女，把他们像狂欢节上的屠夫和洗衣女那样装扮起来，劝这些“主人公们”在摄像程序要求的时间内“保持”他们即兴做出的鬼脸，通过这种手段，就真的认为他们能代表古代历史上那些悲惨或者迷人的场景了。某个民主的作家一定能从中看到一种散播对历史的憎恶以及在大众中传播绘画的廉价手段，而这是一种双重亵渎，同时侮辱了绘画的神圣艺术以及演员的高端艺术。而就在不久前，几千双贪婪的眼睛似乎胶在立体镜的窥视孔上，好像它们是无限的天窗。对猥亵的热爱在人们心里疯狂地生长，就像自恋一样，它不会放过这样一个获得自我满足的好机会。请不要说，只有从学校回到家的孩子才会从这种愚蠢的举动中获得愉悦，它是整个社会的愤怒。我曾经听到一位智慧的女士跟她的朋友谈话，她是上流社会的女士，跟我属于不同的社会阶层。当时她的朋友试图藏起这样几张照片，不让她看到，而她说道：“给我看吧，没什么能让我惊讶的。”这是她亲口说的，我发誓，我是亲耳听到的，但是谁会相信我呢？大仲马说：“你能看到，她们都是高贵的女士。”“还有更加高贵的呢！”卡佐特〔31〕附和道。

失败的艺术家要么是天分不够，要么是太懒惰完不成学业，而摄影行业成了他们的庇护所，这种席卷全球的狂热不仅有了盲目和愚蠢的气质，而且有了某种复仇的意味。我不相信，或者至少我不能让自己相信，任何这种愚蠢的其中总有恶毒的坏人和骗局的阴谋，竟能够获得完全的胜利；但是我确信摄影的发展，就像所有纯物质的进步一样，大大穷尽了法国人的艺术天分，这天分本身是罕有的。现代的愚昧可以纵声大笑，它圆滚滚的肚子里发出响声，将近代哲学塞到它贪婪食道的所有消化不了的诡辩法吐将出来；当工业闯入艺术领域时，它便成为后者的死敌，这是一个简单的常识；在随之而来的功能混乱中，两者都不能很好地得到实现。诗歌与进步是两个雄心勃勃的人，对彼此有本能的仇恨，两虎相遇，必有一伤。如果摄影在一些艺术行为上被允许代表艺术，那么离它取代或完全毁灭艺术的日子也不远了，大众的愚蠢是它天然的盟友，对此功不可没。所以，摄影如回归到它真正的责任上，即作为艺术和科学的侍女，但一定是很谦恭的侍女，就像印刷和速记那样，既不能创造文学也不会对文学形成补充。让摄影快些充实旅行者的相册吧，他的记忆缺失的，让摄影来精确再现给他的眼睛；让它装饰自然学家的图书馆，放大显微镜下的昆虫，甚至增强天文学家的假设：简单说，让它成为任何因为专业原因需要绝对的形态精确性的人的秘书和记录员。现在一切还好。让它挽救那些摇摇欲坠的废墟，使之不至于默默无闻地消失，还有书、雕塑、手稿、时间的猎物，所有这些珍贵的东西注定要消失，然而恳求在我们记忆的卷宗里保有一席之地；在所有这些事物上，摄影都应该得到我们的感谢和掌声。但是如果一旦它被允许侵犯无形和想象的领域，侵犯任何只是因为人们的灵魂而获得价值的事物，我们就该倒霉了！

我知道人们会说：“你刚刚描述的是傻瓜的疾病。任何当得起艺术家头衔的人，任何真正的艺术爱好者，怎么会将艺术和工业混淆？”这个我知道，但是让我来问问，他们是否相信善与恶是会传染的，相信个人会感受到社会压力，相信个人不自觉、不可避免地会屈从于社会。艺术家影响大众，而大众反作用于艺术家，这是一个不容辩驳、无法抗拒的法则；而且，这些事实，这些证人，很容易研究；我们可以估量这整个灾难的程度。随着一天天过去，艺术日益失落在自尊中，在永恒的现实面前屈服，画家越来越倾向于画那些他眼睛看到而非梦中的事物。但做梦是一种幸福啊，曾经，表达自己梦中所见是一种荣耀，但是现在，人们还能相信画家依然有那种快乐吗？

一个诚实的旁观者，他会认为摄影的入侵以及今天疯狂的工业与这一可悲后果全无关系吗？当一个人的眼睛习惯于接受有形科学的结果作为美的产品时，在一段时间后，它评判和感受那些最虚无缥缈和无形事物的能力会显著削弱，这难道不是合乎逻辑的推断吗？

注　释

〔1〕威廉·亨利·亨特（William Henry Hunt, 1790—1864）：英国水彩画家。

〔2〕威廉·霍尔曼·亨特（William Holman Hunt, 1827—1910）：英国画家、拉斐尔前派创始人之一。

〔3〕麦克利斯（Daniel Maclise, 1806—1870）：爱尔兰历史、文学和肖像画家、插画家。

〔4〕米莱斯（John Everett Millais, 1829—1896）：英国画家、拉斐尔前派创始人之一。

〔5〕约翰·夏隆（John James Chalon, 1778—1854）：活跃在英格兰的瑞士画家，创作题材广泛，涉及风景、海洋景色、动物生活以及肖像画。

〔6〕克劳德·洛兰（Claude Lorrain, 1600—1682）：法国画家。终生醉心于海景和意大利风景。除油画之外，还擅长铜版画和素描。克劳德·洛兰的代表作品有油画《示巴女王乘船》（1648年），这是一幅有金色阳光和古代建筑的明快而抒情的海景画。

〔7〕华多（Jean-Antoine Watteau, 1684—1721）：法国18世纪洛可可时期最重要的画家。路易十五时代达到高潮的洛可可艺术，是流行于法国宫廷的一种浮华、柔媚、内容贫乏的艺术运动，代表着法国封建王朝衰落时期贵族富豪们庸俗的审美趣味。

〔8〕弗兰西斯·格兰特爵士（Sir Francis Grant, 1803—1878）：苏格兰肖像画家，曾为维多利亚女王和当时英国的许多贵族和政治人物画像。

〔9〕胡克（James Clarke Hook, 1819—1907）：英国画家，海洋、风俗和历史场景及风景画的蚀刻画家。

〔10〕约瑟夫·诺尔·帕顿爵士（Sir Joseph Noel Paton, 1821—1901）：苏格兰画家。

〔11〕亨利·富塞利（Henry Fuseli, 1741—1825）：瑞士出生的英国画家。作品有异国情调、独创性和色情味道。

〔12〕乔治·卡特莫尔（George Cattermole, 1800—1868）：英国画家与插图家，水彩方面造诣突出，与查尔斯·狄更斯等文学家与艺术家为友。

〔13〕奥克塔夫·潘基利·拉里登（Octave Penguilly L'Haridon, 1811—1872）：法国画家，以画布里多尼地区风景、神话和历史题材闻名。

〔14〕弗洛芒丹（Eugène Fromentin, 1820—1876）：法国画家、作家。游记《在撒哈拉沙漠的一个夏天》（1856）、《在撒赫尔的一年》（1858）获得好评。

〔15〕普雷奥特（Antoine-Augustin Préault, 1809—1879）：法国浪漫主义雕塑家。

〔16〕里卡尔（Louis Gustave Ricard, 1823—1873）：法国画家。

〔17〕安·路易·吉洛德·特里奥松（Anne-Louis Giredet-Trioson, 1767—1824）：法国古典主义画派和浪漫主义画派之间承前启后的著名画家，雅克·路易·大卫的学生。

〔18〕格罗（Baron Gros, 1771—1835），法国浪漫派画家，以描写拿破仑军事生涯的历史画知名。

〔19〕波宁顿（Richard Parkes Bonington, 1801—1828）：英国浪漫派画家，以水彩风景画和历史画著名。生于诺丁汉附近城镇，1817年后侨居法国。师从格罗，并与德拉克洛瓦结为挚友。1825年重访英国。其写意手法画的风景画，格调清新，对法国浪漫主义风景画和英国风景画的发展都起了推动作用。

〔20〕泰奥菲尔·戈蒂耶（Théophile Gautier, 1811—1872）：法国唯美主义诗人、散文家和小说家。早年习画，后转而为文，以创作实践自己“为艺术而艺术”的主张。

〔21〕国家大剧院（Comédie-Française）：指（巴黎的）法国国家大剧院（建于1680年路易十四时期）。

〔22〕高乃依（Corneille, 1606—1684）：法国剧作家，法国古典主义悲剧奠基人，擅长运用戏剧场面揭示人物内心冲突，剧作有四大悲剧《熙德》、《贺拉斯》、《西拿》、《波里耶克特》等三十余部。

〔23〕伯汀（Jean-Victor Bertin, 1767—1842）：法国历史风景画家，以自己古典风格的微小细节而闻名。

〔24〕康斯坦·特罗容（Constant Troyon, 1810—1865）：法国画家。

〔25〕“起床前仪式”（petit lever）：指路易十四起床的第一道程序。八点，由贴身仆人叫醒他，然后大夫过来给他做个检查，仆人掀开床帘等。

〔26〕巴萨诺（Jacopo Bassano, 1510—1592）：意大利画家，被认为第一位现代风景画家。

〔27〕朱利·罗曼诺（Giulio Romano, 1499—1546）：意大利画家、建筑家，拉斐尔的学生。

〔28〕班迪内利（Baccio Bandinelli, 1493—1560）：文艺复兴时期意大利雕塑家、画家。

〔29〕比亚德（François-Auguste Biard, 1799—1822）：法国风俗画家。

〔30〕达盖尔（Louis-Jacques-mandé Daguerre, 1787—1851）：法国美术家和化学家，因发明银版照相法而闻名。

〔31〕卡佐特（Jacques Cazotte, 1719—1792）：法国作家。

Charles Baudelaire

The Painter of Modern Life

TRANSLATED BY P. E. CHARVET

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

The Painter of Modern Life

I. Beauty, Fashion and Happiness

In all social circles, and even in art circles, there are people who go to the Louvre, walk quickly past a large number of most interesting though secondary pictures, without throwing them so much as a look, and plant themselves, as though in a trance, in front of a Titian or a Raphael, one of those which the engraver's art has particularly popularized; then they go out satisfied, as often as not saying to themselves: 'I know my gallery thoroughly.' There are also people who, having once read Bossuet and Racine, think they have got the history of literature at their fingertips.

Happily from time to time knights errant step into the lists - critics, art collectors, lovers of the arts, curious-minded idlers - who assert that neither Raphael nor Racine has every secret, that minor poets have something to be said for them, substantial and delightful things to their credit, and finally that, however much we may like general beauty, which is expressed by the classical poets and artists, we nonetheless make a mistake to neglect particular beauty, the beauty of circumstance, the description of manners.

I am bound to admit that, for several years now, society has shown some improvement. The value that today's collectors attach to the delightful engraved and coloured trifles of the last century shows that a reaction has begun in the direction needed by the public; Debucourt, the Saint-Aubins and many others have achieved mention in the dictionary of artists worthy of study. But these represent the past, whereas my purpose at this moment is to discuss the painting of our contemporary social scene. The past is interesting, not only because of the beauty that the artists for whom it was the present were able to extract from it, but also as past, for its historical value. The same applies to the present. The pleasure we derive from the representation of the present is due, not only to the beauty it can be clothed in, but also to its essential quality of being the present.

I have here in front of me a series of fashion plates, the earliest dating from the Revolution, the most recent from the Consulate or thereabouts. These costumes, which many thoughtless people, the sort of people who are grave without true gravity, find highly amusing, have a double kind of charm, artistic and historical. They are very often beautiful and wittily drawn, but what to me is at least as important, and what I am glad to find in all or nearly all of them, is the moral attitude and the aesthetic value of the time. The idea of beauty that man creates for himself affects his whole attire, ruffles or stiffens his coat, gives curves or straight lines to his gestures and even, in process of time, subtly penetrates the very features of his face. Man comes in the end to look like his ideal image of himself. These engravings can be translated into beauty or ugliness: in ugliness they become caricatures; in beauty, antique statues.

The women who wore these dresses looked more or less like one or the other, according to the degree of poetry or vulgarity evident in their faces. The living substance gave suppleness to what appears too stiff to us. The viewer's imagination can even today see a marching man in this tunic or the shrug of a woman's shoulder beneath that shawl. One of these days perhaps some theatre or other will put on a play where we shall see a revival of the fashions in which our fathers thought themselves just as captivating as we ourselves think we are, in our modest garments (which also have their attractiveness, to be sure, but rather of a moral and spiritual kind); and, if they are worn and given life to by intelligent actors and actresses, we shall be surprised at our having laughed at them so thoughtlessly. The past, whilst retaining its ghostly piquancy, will recapture the light and movement of life, and become present.

If an impartially minded man were to look through the whole range of French fashions, one after the other, from the origins of France to the present day, he would find nothing to shock or even to surprise him. He would find the transition as fully prepared as in the scale of the animal kingdom. No gaps, hence no surprises. And if to the illustration representing each age he were to add the philosophic thought which that age was mainly preoccupied with or worried by, a thought which the illustration inevitably reflects, he would see what a deep harmony informs all the branches of history, and that, even in the centuries which appear to us the most outrageous and the most confused, the immortal appetite for beauty has always found satisfaction.

Here we have indeed a golden opportunity to establish a rational and historical theory of beauty, in contrast to the theory of a unique and absolute beauty, and to show that beauty is always and inevitably compounded of two elements, although the impression it conveys is one; for the difficulty we may experience in distinguishing the variable elements that go to make beauty's unity of impression does not in any way invalidate the need of variety in its composition. Beauty is made up, on the one hand, of an element that is eternal and invariable, though to determine how much of it there is is extremely difficult, and, on the other, of a relative circumstantial element, which we may like to call, successively or at one and the same time, contemporaneity, fashion, morality, passion. Without this second element, which is like the amusing, teasing, appetite-whetting coating of the divine cake, the first element would be indigestible, tasteless, unadapted and inappropriate to human nature. I challenge anyone to find any sample whatsoever of beauty that does not contain these two elements.

Let me take as an example the two extreme stages of history. In hieratic art duality is evident at the first glance; the eternal element of beauty reveals itself only by permission and under the control of the religion the artist belongs to. In the most frivolous work of a sophisticated artist, belonging to one of those ages we vaingloriously call civilized, the duality is equally apparent; the eternal part of beauty will be both veiled and expressed, if not through fashion, then at least through the individual temperament of the artist. The duality of art is an inevitable consequence of the duality of man. If you like it that way, you may identify the eternally subsisting portion as the soul of art, and the variable element as its body. That is why Stendhal, that impertinent, teasing, even repugnant mind (whose impertinences are, nevertheless, usefully thought-provoking), came close to the truth, much closer than many other people, when he said: 'The beautiful is neither more nor less than the promise of happiness.' No doubt this definition oversteps the mark; it subordinates beauty much too much to the infinitely variable ideal of happiness; it divests beauty too lightly of its aristocratic character; but it has the great merit of getting away from the mistake of the academicians.

More than once before I have explained these things; these few lines are explanation enough for those who enjoy these pastimes of abstract thought; but I am well aware that French readers for the most part take little pleasure in them, and I am myself keen to enter into the positive and solid part of my subject.

II. Manners and Modes

For sketches of manners, for the portrayal of bourgeois life and the fashion scene, the quickest and the cheapest technical means will evidently be the best. The more beauty the artist puts into it, the more valuable will the work be; but there is in the trivial things of life, in the daily changing of external things, a speed of movement that imposes upon the artist an equal speed of execution. The multi-coloured engravings of the eighteenth century are again enjoying the favour of current fashion, as I was saying just now; pastel, etching, aquatint have provided their successive quotas to this vast dictionary of modern life in libraries, in art collectors' portfolios and in the humblest shop windows. As soon as lithography was invented, it was quickly seen to be very suitable for this enormous task, so frivolous in appearance. We possess veritable national records in this class. The works of Gavarni and Daumier have been accurately described as complements to the Comédie humaine. Balzac himself, I feel sure, would not have been unwilling to adopt that idea, which is all the more accurate in proportion as the artist-portrayer of manners is a genius of mixed composition, in other words, a genius with a pronounced literary element. Observer, idler, philosopher, call him what you will, but, in order to define such an artist, you will surely in the end be brought to giving him an attributive adjective that you could not apply to a painter of things eternal, or at least things of a more permanent nature, of heroic or religious subjects. Sometimes he may be a poet; more often he comes close to the novelist or the moralist; he is the painter of the fleeting moment and of all that it suggests of the eternal. Every country, for its pleasure or its fame, has possessed a few men of that sort. In our own time, to Daumier, to Gavarni, the first names that come to mind, we may add Deveria, Maurin, Numa (all chroniclers of the Restoration's shady charms), Wattier, Tassaert, Eugène Lami, this last one almost English in his affection for aristocratic society, and even Trimolet and Traviès, the chroniclers of poverty and humble life.

III. An Artist, Man of the World, Man of Crowds, and Child

Today I want to talk to my readers about a singular man, whose originality is so powerful and clear-cut that it is self-sufficing, and does not bother to look for approval. None of his drawings is signed, if by signature we mean the few letters, which can be so easily forged, that compose a name, and that so many other artists grandly inscribe at the bottom of their most carefree sketches. But all his works are signed with his dazzling soul, and art-lovers who have seen and liked them will recognize them easily from the description I propose to give of them. M. C. G. [Monsieur Constantin Guys] loves mixing with the crowds, loves being incognito, and carries his originality to the point of modesty. M. Thackeray, who, as is well known, is very interested in all things to do with art, and who draws the illustrations for his own novels, one day spoke of M. G. in a London review, much to the irritation of the latter who regarded the matter as an outrage to his modesty. And again quite recently, when he heard that I was proposing to make an assessment of his mind and talent, he begged me, in a most peremptory manner, to suppress his name, and to discuss his works only as though they were the works of some anonymous person. I will humbly obey this odd request. The reader and I will proceed as though M. G. did not exist, and we will discuss his drawings and his water-colours, for which he professes a patrician's disdain, in the same way as would a group of scholars faced with the task of assessing the importance of a number of precious historical documents which chance has brought to light, and the author of which must for ever remain unknown. And even to reassure my conscience completely, let my readers assume that all the things I have to say about the artist's nature, so strangely and mysteriously dazzling, have been more or less accurately suggested by the works in question; pure poetic hypothesis, conjecture, or imaginative reconstructions.

M. G. is an old man. Jean-Jacques began writing, so they say, at the age of forty-two. Perhaps it was at about that age that M. G., obsessed by the world of images that filled his mind, plucked up courage to cast ink and colours on to a sheet of white paper. To be honest, he drew like a barbarian, like a child, angrily chiding his clumsy fingers and his disobedient tool. I have seen a large number of these early scribblings, and I admit that most of the people who know what they are talking about, or who claim to, could, without shame, have failed to discern the latent genius that dwelt in these obscure beginnings. Today, M. G., who has discovered unaided all the little tricks of the trade, and who has taught himself, without help or advice, has become a powerful master in his own way; of his early artlessness he has retained only what was needed to add an unexpected spice to his abundant gift. When he happens upon one of these efforts of his early manner, he tears it up or burns it, with a most amusing show of shame and indignation.

For ten whole years I wanted to make the acquaintance of M. G., who is by nature a great traveller and very cosmopolitan. I knew that he had for a long time been working for an English illustrated paper and that in it had appeared engravings from his travel sketches (Spain, Turkey, the Crimea). Since then I have seen a considerable mass of these on-the-spot drawings from life, and I have thus been able to 'read' a detailed and daily account, infinitely preferable to any other, of the Crimean campaign. The same paper had also published (without signature, as before) a large quantity of compositions by this artist from the new ballets and operas. When at last I ran him to ground I saw at once that I was not dealing exactly with an artist but rather with a man of the world. In this context, pray interpret the word 'artist' in a very narrow sense, and the expression 'man of the world' in a very broad one. By 'man of the world', I mean a man of the whole world, a man who understands the world and the mysterious and legitimate reasons behind all its customs; by 'artist', I mean a specialist, a man tied to his palette like a serf to the soil. M. G. does not like being called an artist. Is he not justified to a small extent? He takes an interest in everything the world over, he wants to know, understand, assess everything that happens on the surface of our spheroid. The artist moves little, or even not at all, in intellectual and political circles. If he lives in the Bréda quarter he knows nothing of what goes on in the Faubourg Saint-Germain. With two or three exceptions, which it is unnecessary to name, the majority of artists are, let us face it, very skilled brutes, mere manual labourers, village pub-talkers with the minds of country bumpkins. Their talk, inevitably enclosed within very narrow limits, quickly becomes a bore to the man of the world, to the spiritual citizen of the universe.

Thus to begin to understand M. G., the first thing to note is this: that curiosity may be considered the starting point of his genius.

Do you remember a picture (for indeed it is a picture!) written by the most powerful pen of this age and entitled The Man of the Crowd? Sitting in a café, and looking through the shop window, a convalescent is enjoying the sight of the passing crowd, and identifying himself in thought with all the thoughts that are moving around him. He has only recently come back from the shades of death and breathes in with delight all the spores and odours of life; as he has been on the point of forgetting everything, he remembers and passionately wants to remember everything. In the end he rushes out into the crowd in search of a man unknown to him whose face, which he had caught sight of, had in a flash fascinated him. Curiosity had become a compelling, irresistible passion.

Now imagine an artist perpetually in the spiritual condition of the convalescent, and you will have the key to the character of M. G.

But convalescence is like a return to childhood. The convalescent, like the child, enjoys to the highest degree the faculty of taking a lively interest in things, even the most trivial in appearance. Let us hark back, if we can, by a retrospective effort of our imaginations, to our youngest, our morning impressions, and we shall recognize that they were remarkably akin to the vividly coloured impressions that we received later on after a physical illness, provided that illness left our spiritual faculties pure and unimpaired. The child sees everything as a novelty; the child is always 'drunk'. Nothing is more like what we call inspiration than the joy the child feels in drinking in shape and colour. I will venture to go even further and declare that inspiration has some connection with congestion, that every sublime thought is accompanied by a more or less vigorous nervous impulse that reverberates in the cerebral cortex. The man of genius has strong nerves; those of the child are weak. In the one, reason has assumed an important role; in the other, sensibility occupies almost the whole being. But genius is no more than childhood recaptured at will, childhood equipped now with man's physical means to express itself, and with the analytical mind that enables it to bring order into the sum of experience, involuntarily amassed. To this deep and joyful curiosity must be attributed that stare, animal-like in its ecstasy, which all children have when confronted with something new, whatever it may be, face or landscape, light, gilding, colours, watered silk, enchantment of beauty, enhanced by the arts of dress. A friend of mine was telling me one day how, as a small boy, he used to be present when his father was dressing, and how he had always been filled with astonishment, mixed with delight, as he looked at the arm muscle, the colour tones of the skin tinged with rose and yellow, and the bluish network of the veins. The picture of the external world was already beginning to fill him with respect, and to take possession of his brain. Already the shape of things obsessed and possessed him. A precocious fate was showing the tip of its nose. His damnation was settled. Need I say that, today, the child is a famous painter.

I was asking you just now to think of M. G. as an eternal convalescent; to complete your idea of him, think of him also as a man-child, as a man possessing at every moment the genius of childhood, in other words a genius for whom no edge of life is blunted.

I told you that I was unwilling to call him a pure artist, and that he himself rejected this title, with a modesty tinged with aristocratic restraint. I would willingly call him a dandy, and for that I would have a sheaf of good reasons; for the word 'dandy' implies a quintessence of character and a subtle understanding of all the moral mechanisms of this world; but, from another aspect, the dandy aspires to cold detachment, and it is in this way that M. G., who is dominated, if ever anyone was, by an insatiable passion, that of seeing and feeling, parts company trenchantly with dandyism. Amabam amare, said St Augustine. 'I love passion, passionately,' M. G. might willingly echo. The dandy is blasé, or affects to be, as a matter of policy and class attitude, M. G. hates blasé people. Sophisticated minds will understand me when I say that he possesses that difficult art of being sincere without being ridiculous. I would willingly confer on him the title of philosopher, to which he has a right for more than one reason; but his excessive love of visible, tangible things, in their most plastic form, inspires him with a certain dislike of those things that go to make up the intangible kingdom of the metaphysician. Let us therefore reduce him to the status of the pure pictorial moralist, like La Bruyère.

The crowd is his domain, just as the air is the bird's, and water that of the fish. His passion and his profession is to merge with the crowd. For the perfect idler, for the passionate observer it becomes an immense source of enjoyment to establish his dwelling in the throng, in the ebb and flow, the bustle, the fleeting and the infinite. To be away from home and yet to feel at home anywhere; to see the world, to be at the very centre of the world, and yet to be unseen of the world, such are some of the minor pleasures of those independent, intense and impartial spirits, who do not lend themselves easily to linguistic definitions. The observer is a prince enjoying his incognito wherever he goes. The lover of life makes the whole world into his family, just as the lover of the fair sex creates his from all the lovely women he has found, from those that could be found, and those who are impossible to find, just as the picture-lover lives in an enchanted world of dreams painted on canvas. Thus the lover of universal life moves into the crowd as though into an enormous reservoir of electricity. He, the lover of life, may also be compared to a mirror as vast as this crowd; to a kaleidoscope endowed with consciousness, which with every one of its movements presents a pattern of life, in all its multiplicity, and the flowing grace of all the elements that go to compose life. It is an ego athirst for the non-ego, and reflecting it at every moment in energies more vivid than life itself, always inconstant and fleeting. 'Any man,' M. G. once said, in one of those talks he rendered memorable by the intensity of his gaze, and by his eloquence of gesture, 'any man who is not weighed down with a sorrow so searching as to touch all his faculties, and who is bored in the midst of the crowd, is a fool! A fool! and I despise him!'

When, as he wakes up, M. G. opens his eyes and sees the sun beating vibrantly at his window-panes, he says to himself with remorse and regret: 'What an imperative command! What a fanfare of light! Light everywhere for several hours past! Light I have lost in sleep! and endless numbers of things bathed in light that I could have seen and have failed to!' And off he goes! And he watches the flow of life move by, majestic and dazzling. He admires the eternal beauty and the astonishing harmony of life in the capital cities, a harmony so providentially maintained in the tumult of human liberty. He gazes at the landscape of the great city, landscapes of stone, now swathed in the mist, now struck in full face by the sun. He enjoys handsome equipages, proud horses, the spit and polish of the grooms, the skilful handling by the page boys, the smooth rhythmical gait of the women, the beauty of the children, full of the joy of life and proud as peacocks of their pretty clothes; in short, life universal. If in a shift of fashion, the cut of a dress has been slightly modified, if clusters of ribbons and curls have been dethroned by rosettes, if bonnets have widened and chignons have come down a little on the nape of the neck, if waist-lines have been raised and skirts become fuller, you may be sure that from a long way off his eagle's eye will have detected it. A regiment marches by, maybe on its way to the ends of the earth, filling the air of the boulevard with its martial airs, as light and lively as hope; and sure enough M. G. has already seen, inspected and analysed the weapons and the bearing of this whole body of troops. Harness, highlights, bands, determined mien, heavy and grim mustachios, all these details flood chaotically into him; and within a few minutes the poem that comes with it all is virtually composed. And then his soul will vibrate with the soul of the regiment, marching as though it were one living creature, proud image of joy and discipline!

But evening comes. The witching hour, the uncertain light, when the sky draws its curtains and the city lights go on. The gaslight stands out on the purple background of the setting sun. Honest men or crooked customers, wise or irresponsible, all are saying to themselves: 'The day is done at last!' Good men and bad turn their thoughts to pleasure, and each hurries to his favourite haunt to drink the cup of oblivion. M. G. will be the last to leave any place where the departing glories of daylight linger, where poetry echoes, life pulsates, music sounds; any place where a human passion offers a subject to his eye where natural man and conventional man reveal themselves in strange beauty, where the rays of the dying sun play on the fleeting pleasure of the 'depraved animal!' 'Well, there, to be sure, is a day well filled,' murmurs to himself a type of reader well-known to all of us; 'each one of us has surely enough genius to fill it in the same way'. No! few men have the gift of seeing; fewer still have the power to express themselves. And now, whilst others are sleeping, this man is leaning over his table, his steady gaze on a sheet of paper, exactly the same gaze as he directed just now at the things about him, brandishing his pencil, his pen, his brush, splashing water from the glass up to the ceiling, wiping his pen on his shirt, hurried, vigorous, active, as though he was afraid the images might escape him, quarrelsome though alone, and driving himself relentlessly on. And things seen are born again on the paper, natural and more than natural, beautiful and better than beautiful, strange and endowed with an enthusiastic life, like the soul of their creator. The weird pageant has been distilled from nature. All the materials, stored higgledy-piggledy by memory, are classified, ordered, harmonized, and undergo that deliberate idealization, which is the product of a childlike perceptiveness, in other words a perceptiveness that is acute and magical by its very ingenuousness.

IV. Modernity

And so, walking or quickening his pace, he goes his way, for ever in search. In search of what? We may rest assured that this man, such as I have described him, this solitary mortal endowed with an active imagination, always roaming the great desert of men, has a nobler aim than that of the pure idler, a more general aim, other than the fleeting pleasure of circumstance. He is looking for that indefinable something we may be allowed to call 'modernity', for want of a better term to express the idea in question. The aim for him is to extract from fashion the poetry that resides in its historical envelope, to distil the eternal from the transitory. If we cast our eye over our exhibitions of modern pictures, we shall be struck by the general tendency of our artists to clothe all manner of subjects in the dress of the past. Almost all of them use the fashions and the furnishings of the Renaissance, as David used Roman fashions and furnishings, but there is this difference, that David, having chosen subjects peculiarly Greek or Roman, could not do otherwise than present them in the style of antiquity, whereas the painters of today, choosing, as they do, subjects of a general nature, applicable to all ages, will insist on dressing them up in the fashion of the Middle Ages, of the Renaissance, or of the East. This is evidently sheer laziness; for it is much more convenient to state roundly that everything is hopelessly ugly in the dress of a period than to apply oneself to the task of extracting the mysterious beauty that may be hidden there, however small or light it may be. Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable. There was a form of modernity for every painter of the past; the majority of the fine portraits that remain to us from former times are clothed in the dress of their own day. They are perfectly harmonious works because the dress, the hairstyle, and even the gesture, the expression and the smile (each age has its carriage, its expression and its smile) form a whole, full of vitality. You have no right to despise this transitory fleeting element, the metamorphoses of which are so frequent, nor to dispense with it. If you do, you inevitably fall into the emptiness of an abstract and indefinable beauty, like that of the one and only woman of the time before the Fall. If for the dress of the day, which is necessarily right, you substitute another, you are guilty of a piece of nonsense that only a fancydress ball imposed by fashion can excuse. Thus the goddesses, the nymphs, and sultanas of the eighteenth century are portraits in the spirit of their day.

No doubt it is an excellent discipline to study the old masters, in order to learn how to paint, but it can be no more than a superfluous exercise if your aim is to understand the beauty of the present day. The draperies of Rubens or Veronese will not teach you how to paint watered silk à l'antique, or satin à la reine, or any other fabric produced by our mills, supported by a swaying crinoline, or petticoats of starched muslin. The texture and grain are not the same as in the fabrics of old Venice, or those worn at the court of Catherine. We may add that the cut of the skirt and bodice is absolutely different, that the pleats are arranged into a new pattern, and finally that the gesture and carriage of the woman of today give her dress a vitality and a character that are not those of the woman of former ages. In short, in order that any form of modernity may be worthy of becoming antiquity, the mysterious beauty that human life unintentionally puts into it must have been extracted from it. It is this task that M. G. particularly addresses himself to.

I have said that every age has its own carriage, its expression, its gestures. This proposition may be easily verified in a large portrait gallery (the one at Versailles, for example). But it can be yet further extended. In a unity we call a nation, the professions, the social classes, the successive centuries, introduce variety not only in gestures and manners, but also in the general outlines of faces. Such and such a nose, mouth, forehead, will be standard for a given interval of time, the length of which I shall not claim to determine here, but which may certainly be a matter of calculation. Such ideas are not familiar enough to portrait painters; and the great weakness of M. Ingres, in particular, is the desire to impose on every type that sits for him a more or less complete process of improvement, in other words a despotic perfecting process, borrowed from the store of classical ideas.

In a matter such as this, a priori reasoning would be easy and even legitimate. The perpetual correlation between what is called the soul and what is called the body is a quite satisfactory explanation of how what is material or emanates from the spiritual reflects and will always reflect the spiritual force it derives from. If a painter, patient and scrupulous but with only inferior imaginative power, were commissioned to paint a courtesan of today, and, for this purpose, were to get his inspiration (to use the hallowed term) from a courtesan by Titian or Raphael, the odds are that his work would be fraudulent, ambiguous, and difficult to understand. The study of a masterpiece of that date and of that kind will not teach him the carriage, the gaze, the come-hitherishness, or the living representation of one of these creatures that the dictionary of fashion has, in rapid succession, pigeonholed under the coarse or light-hearted rubric of unchaste, kept women, Lorettes.

The same remark applies precisely to the study of the soldier, the dandy, and even animals, dogs or horses, and of all things that go to make up the external life of an age. Woe betide the man who goes to antiquity for the study of anything other than ideal art, logic and general method! By immersing himself too deeply in it, he will no longer have the present in his mind's eye; he throws away the value and the privileges afforded by circumstance; for nearly all our originality comes from the stamp that time impresses upon our sensibility. The reader will readily understand that I could easily verify my assertions from innumerable objects other than women. What would you say, for example, of a marine painter (I take an extreme case) who, having to represent the sober and elegant beauty of a modern vessel, were to tire out his eyes in the study of the overloaded, twisted shapes, the monumental stern, of ships of bygone ages, and the complex sails and rigging of the sixteenth century? And what would you think of an artist you had commissioned to do the portrait of a thorough-bred, celebrated in the solemn annals of the turf, if he were to restrict his studies to museums, if he were to content himself with looking at equine studies of the past in the picture galleries, in Van Dyck, Bourguignon, or Van der Meulen?

M. G., guided by nature, tyrannized over by circumstance, has followed a quite different path. He began by looking at life, and only later did he contrive to learn how to express life. The result has been a striking originality, in which whatever traces of untutored simplicity may still remain take on the appearance of an additional proof of obedience to the impression, of a flattery of truth. For most of us, especially for businessmen, in whose eyes nature does not exist, unless it be in its strict utility relationship with their business interests, the fantastic reality of life becomes strangely blunted. M. G. registers it constantly; his memory and his eyes are full of it.

V. Mnemonic Art

The word 'barbarousness', which may have come too often from my pen, might lead some people to believe that I am alluding to a number of shapeless drawings that only the imagination of the viewer is capable of transforming into perfect things. This would be a serious misunderstanding of what I mean. I refer to a sort of inevitable, synthetic, childlike barbarousness, which can often still be seen in a perfect type of art (Mexican, Egyptian, or Ninevehite barbarousness) and derives from the need to see things big, to look at them particularly from the point of view of their effect as a whole. It is not superfluous to remark here that the accusation of barbarousness has often been made against all painters who have an eye for synthesis and abbreviation, M. Corot, for example, who begins by tracing the main lines of a landscape, its structure and features. Similarly, M. G., faithful interpreter of his own impressions, notes with instinctive vigour the culminating features or highlights of an object (they can be culminating or luminous from a dramatic point of view) or its main characteristics, sometimes even with a degree of exaggeration useful to human memory; and the imagination of the viewer, undergoing in its turn the influence of this imperious code, conjures up in clear outline the impression produced by objects on the mind of M. G. In this case, the viewer becomes the translator of a translation, which is always clear and always intoxicating.

There is a factor that adds greatly to the vitality of this pictorial record of everyday life. I refer to M. G.'s habit of work. He draws from memory, and not from the model, except in those cases (the Crimean War, for example) where there is an urgent need to take immediate, hurried notes and to establish the broad outlines of a subject. In fact all true draughtsmen draw from the image imprinted in their brain and not from nature. If the admirable sketches of Raphael, of Watteau and many others are quoted as examples to invalidate our contention, our reply is that these are indeed highly detailed notes, but mere notes they remain. When a true artist has reached the stage of the final execution of his work, the model would be more of an embarrassment to him than a help. It even happens that men like Daumier and M. G. who have been accustomed for years to using their memory, and filling it with images, find that, when confronted with a model and the multiplicity of detail this means, their main faculty is as though confused and paralysed.

Then begins a struggle between the determination to see everything, to forget nothing, and the faculty of memory, which has acquired the habit of registering in a flash the general tones and shape, the outline pattern. An artist with a perfect sense of form but particularly accustomed to the exercise of his memory and his imagination, then finds himself assailed, as it were, by a riot of details, all of them demanding justice, with the fury of a mob in love with absolute equality. Any form of justice is inevitably infringed; any harmony is destroyed, sacrificed; a multitude of trivialities are magnified; a multitude of little things become usurpers of attention. The more the artist pays impartial attention to detail, the greater does anarchy become. Whether he be short- or long-sighted, all sense of hierarchy or subordination disappears. This is an accident that often occurs in the works of one of our most fashionable painters, whose defects moreover are so well attuned to the defects of the crowd that they have greatly contributed to his popularity. The same sort of analogy may be sensed in the practice of the actor's art, that mysterious, profound art which in these days has fallen into the confusion of many forms of decadence. M. Frédérick-Lemaître builds up a role with the breadth and boldness of genius. Adorned as his acting is with brilliant detail, it nonetheless remains a unified sculptural composition. M. Bouffé builds his with the painstaking efforts of a myope or a bureaucrat. In him everything sparkles and crackles, but nothing strikes the eye, nothing claims a place in our memories.

Thus in M. G.'s execution two things stand out: the first is the absorbed intenseness of a resurrecting and evocative memory, a memory that says to every object: 'Lazarus, arise'; the second is a fire, an intoxication of pencil or brush, almost amounting to frenzy. This is the fear of not going fast enough, of letting the spectre escape before the synthesis has been extracted and taken possession of, the terrible fear that takes hold of all great artists and fills them with such an ardent desire to appropriate all means of expression, so that the commands of the mind may never be weakened by the hand's hesitation; so that, in the end, the ideal execution may become as unconscious, as flowing, as the process of digesting is for the brain of a healthy man after dinner. M. G. begins with a few light pencil touches, which scarcely do more than indicate the positions of the objects in space. The main planes are indicated next by a series of colour-washes, masses vaguely and lightly tinted at first, but worked over again later with applications of stronger colour. In the last stage, the outlines of objects are clearly traced with pencil and ink. Without having seen them, no one would guess the remarkable effects he can achieve by this so simple and almost elementary method. It has the incomparable advantage that, at almost any stage, each drawing seems to have reached a stage of completion satisfying enough to the viewer; you may call this a thumbnail sketch, but it is a perfect one. All the tone values are in harmony, and if he wants to work the tones up, they will always retain their relationship as they move towards the desired state of perfection. In this way he can work at up to twenty drawings at a time with a liveliness and joy charming to the eye and amusing even for him; the sketches pile up, one on top of the other, by tens, hundreds, by thousands. From time to time he runs through them, glancing at some, examining others, and then he chooses a few, to which he gives more intensity by giving greater depth to the shadow and touching up the highlights.

He attaches great importance to the backgrounds, which, whether strongly or lightly worked, are always of a quality and nature appropriate to the figures. The scale of tones and the general harmony are strictly observed, with a genius that derives more from instinct than from study. For M. G. possesses that mysterious talent of the colourist, by the light of nature, a veritable gift, which study can strengthen but which it cannot of itself, I believe, create. To sum it all up, our strange artist expresses both the gestures and attitudes, be they solemn or grotesque, of human beings and their luminous explosion in space.

VI. The Annals of War

Bulgaria, Turkey, the Crimea, Spain have all been a gorgeous feast for M. G.'s eyes, or rather for those of the imaginary artist we are agreed to call M. G.; for now and then it comes back to me that, to reassure his modesty, I promised to pretend he did not exist. I have looked through these archives of the Eastern War (battlefields strewn with the debris of death, heavy baggage trains, shipment of livestock and horses), scenes throbbing with life and interest, as though moulded on life itself, elements of a valuable form of picturesque, which many wellknown painters would have thoughtlessly neglected if they had found themselves in the same circumstances; amongst these, however, I would willingly make an exception of M. Horace Vernet, veritable journalist rather than true artist, with whom M. G., though a more delicate artist, has an evident relationship, assuming we want to think of him only as an archivist of life. No journal, I declare, no written record, no book could express so well this great epic of the Crimean War, in all its distressing detail and sinister breadth. The eye moves from the banks of the Danube to the shores of the Bosphorus, from Cape Kerson to the plain of Balaclava or the fields of Inkerman, and on to the English, French, Turkish and Piedmontese encampments, from the streets of Constantinople to the hospitals and to a variety of solemn religious and military ceremonies.

One of the drawings that sticks in my memory more than others is the Consécration d'un terrain funèbre à Scutari par l'évêque de Gibraltar. The picturesque character of the scene, which arises from the contrast between the surrounding oriental countryside and the western attitudes and uniforms of the participants, is brought out strikingly, and in a manner that gives food for thought and reverie. The ordinary soldiers and officers alike, all have that ineradicable air of 'gentlemen', that determined and reserved air they carry with them to the end of the earth, whether it be in the garrison towns of Cape Colony or the settlements in India; the Anglican clergy put one vaguely in mind of ushers or stockbrokers in cap and bands for the occasion.

And here in another drawing is the residence of Omar Pasha at Shumla. Turkish hospitality, pipes and coffee; all the visitors are seated on divans, sucking at pipes as long as blow-pipes, with the bowls at their feet. And here, Kurdes à Scutari depicts a weird-looking soldiery whose aspect suggests an invasion of barbarian hordes; and, no less strange, in another sketch are bashi-bazouks, with their European officers, Hungarian or Polish, veritable dandies in feature these latter, contrasting oddly with the curiously oriental character of their men.

One magnificent drawing that caught my eye is of a single standing figure; the man is stout and vigorous, his expression all at once thoughtful, carefree and bold; he is wearing high boots, which come up above his knees; his uniform is hidden under a heavy, ample topcoat, tightly buttoned up; his gaze, through his cigar smoke, is directed towards the threatening misty horizon; he has been wounded in the arm, and is wearing a sling. At the foot, a scribbled pencil note states: Canrobert on the battlefield of Inkerman. Taken on the spot.

And who might this horseman be? With white moustaches so vigorously drawn, with head erect, he seems to be scenting the terrible poetry of the battlefield, whilst his horse, sniffing the ground, picks his way between the heaps of corpses, feet upturned, faces contorted, in strange attitudes. At the bottom of the drawing, in a corner, are these words: Myself at Inkerman.

And who is this but M. Baraguay-d'Hilliers, with the Seraskier, inspecting the artillery at Béchichtash. Rarely have I seen a better likeness in the portrait of a soldier, done by a bolder or livelier hand.

Hard by, I caught sight of a name of sinister reputation since our Syrian disasters: Achmet Pasha, Commander-in-Chief, standing in front of his tent, surrounded by his staff, receives the European officers. Despite the generous extent of his Turkish paunch, Achmet-Pasha has, both in his bearing and in his face, the noble aristocratic air that usually belongs to the master races.

The battle of Balaclava figures several times, from different angles, in this interesting collection. There, amongst the most striking, is the historic cavalry charge sung by the heroic clarion of Alfred Tennyson, the Poet Laureate: a mass of cavalry are shown thundering at speed towards the horizon, between the rolling clouds of gunsmoke. The background is shut in by a line of green hills.

From time to time a religious subject provides a welcome change to the viewer's gaze, saddened by this chaos of gunpowder and restless carnage. In the midst of the British troops of all arms, amongst whom the picturesque uniform of the kilted Scots is conspicuous, an Anglican chaplain holds the Sunday service; three drums, the topmost resting on the other two, serve as a lectern.

It is difficult in all conscience for the mere pen to translate this vast and complex poem, composed of a thousand sketches, and to express the feelings of intoxication arising from all the picturesque details - often distressing but never maudlin - which are collected in these few hundred pages. The stained and torn condition of these is eloquent in its own way of the chaos and tumult in the midst of which the artist noted down his memories of each day. As evening came the mail would carry away towards London M. G.'s notes and drawings, and, often enough, he would thus entrust to the post ten or more quickly executed thumbnail sketches, done on thin paper, which the engravers and subscribers to the magazine were eagerly awaiting.

Sometimes ambulances are depicted, where the very atmosphere seems sick, gloomy and heavy, every bed a bed of pain; another time, it is the hospital at Pera, with two sisters of mercy, tall, pale and straight like the figures of Lesueur, talking, I notice, to an informally dressed visitor quaintly designated as 'my humble self'. Or again, on rough, winding paths strewn with the debris of a past engagement, a long string of pack animals - mules, donkeys, or horses - moves slowly, carrying in rough panniers, balanced on either flank, pale and inert wounded. Across vast expanses of snow come camels, with majestic dewlaps and heads held high. Led by Tartars, they are hauling provisions and munitions of all kinds; a whole warlike world appears, full of life and silent activity, encampments, bazaars, where samples of every type of supplies are displayed, like barbarian cities, conjured up for the circumstances. Amidst the huts, along the stony or snowy roads, in the defiles, can be seen the uniforms of several countries, more or less worn and torn by war, or altered in appearance by lumpy fur coats or heavy boots.

How sad it is to think that this album, which has now been scattered in a variety of places, and the precious pages of which have been kept by the engravers commissioned to reproduce them, or by the editors of the Illustrated London News, should not have been submitted to the Emperor. He, I am sure, would have been glad to see (not without emotion) this record of his soldiers, their day-in, day-out doings, expressed with minute care, from the most brilliant feats of arms to the most trivial occupations of life, by this soldier-artist's sure and intelligent hand.

VII. Pomp and Ceremony

Turkey has also contributed some admirable subjects to our dear G.: the festivals of Bairam, profound and rippling splendours, in the background of which appears, like a pallid sun, the ineradicable boredom of the late Sultan; ranged to the left of the sovereign stand all the officers of the civil order; to his right, all those of the military order, the chief of them being Said Pasha, Sultan of Egypt, who was at Constantinople at the time; processions, moving with solemn pomp to the little mosque near the palace, and in these throngs are to be seen a number of Turkish functionaries, veritable caricatures of decadence, crushing their splendid horses under the weight of their fantastic obesity; the heavy, massive carriages, not unlike coaches from the days of Louis XIV, gilded and otherwise adorned with oriental fantasy, from the inside of which curious feminine glances dart from time to time, through the narrow interval left to the eyes by muslin veils worn close to the face; the frenzied dances of mountebanks of the 'third sex' (never has Balzac's humorous phrase been more applicable than in the present case, for beneath these throbbing unsteady lights, under the generous waving folds of the garments, under the heavy make-up of cheeks, eyes and eyebrows, in all these hysterical and convulsive gestures, in the long hair down to the hips, you would find it difficult, not to say impossible, to guess that virility was there): and finally the women of easy virtue (if one can speak in such terms, where the Levant is concerned), generally provided by Hungarian, Walachian, Jewish, Polish, Greek and Armenian women; for under a despotic government, it is the oppressed races, and especially those amongst them that suffer the greatest privations, that provide the most recruits to prostitution. Amongst these women some have kept their national costumes, embroidered bodices, short sleeves, loosely hanging scarves, baggy trousers, Turkish slippers with upturned points, striped or spangled muslins, and all the tinsel of their homeland; others, by far the more numerous, have adopted the principal mark of civilization, which, for a woman, is invariably the crinoline, not, however, without introducing in their attire a faint reminiscence of the Levant, with the result that they have an air of Parisian women attempting to disguise themselves.

M. G. excels at depicting all the display of official ceremonies, the pomp and circumstance of national occasions, not coldly and didactically, like painters who see only lucrative drudgery in commissions of this kind, but with all the ardour of a man in love with space, perspective, great expanses or explosions of light, hanging like teardrops or sparkling diamonds on the asperities of the uniform or court dresses. La fête commémorative de l'indépendance dans la cathédrale d'Athènes affords an interesting example of this talent. All the little figures, each of them so well placed, give more depth to the space that contains them. The cathedral is vast and festooned with solemn draperies. King Otto and the Queen, standing on a dais, are depicted in the traditional dress, which they are wearing with marvellous ease, as though to bear witness to the sincerity of their adoption, and to the most refined Hellenic patriotism. The King is as tightly belted as the smartest palikar, and his kilt flares out with all the exaggeration of national dandyism. Opposite the royal couple, the patriarch is stepping towards them, an old man with bowed shoulders, flowing white beard, little eyes behind green glasses, his whole bearing betraying the most consummate oriental impassivity. All the figures that people this composition are portraits; one of the most interesting, on account of the oddness of the features, which are anything but Hellenic, is that of a German woman standing next to the Queen and attached to her service.

In all M. G.'s series of drawings, a figure often to be found is the French Emperor, whose face the artist has succeeded in reducing to an infallible shorthand sketch without losing the likeness, which he executes with all the sureness of a signature flourish. Now the Emperor, at full gallop, is holding a review, accompanied by officers with easily recognizable features, or by foreign potentates, European, Asiatic, or African, to whom he is doing, as it were, the honours of Paris. Sometimes he is shown motionless on his horse, whose hooves are as firmly on the ground as the four legs of a table, with the Empress on his left in riding habit, and on his right, the little Prince Imperial, in a busby, and holding himself militarily erect on a little rough-haired horse, like the ponies English artists love to show dashing about in their landscapes; at other times, cascades of light and dust enfold him as he rides in the alleys of the Bois de Boulogne; at others again, we see him greeted by the acclamations of the crowds as he moves amongst them in the faubourg Saint-Antoine. One of these water-colours in particular quite dazzled me by its magical quality: the Empress, composed and relaxed, is seen at the front of a richly and majestically decorated box at the theatre; the Emperor is leaning forward slightly, as though to get a better view of the theatre; below, two guardsmen stand erect in military, almost religious immobility, their brilliant uniforms sparkling with the reflections of the light from the footlights. Behind this band of light in the ideal atmosphere of the stage, the actors are singing, declaiming and gesticulating harmoniously; on the near side, there is an abyss of suffused light and a circular space full of human faces at every tier: the chandelier and the audience.

The mob demonstrations, the clubs, the solemn occasions of 1848 also provided M. G. with subjects for a series of scenes, most of which have been engraved for the Illustrated London News. A few years ago, after a sojourn in Spain, which was very fruitful for his genius, he compiled an album of the same kind, of which I have seen only a few fragments. The carelessness with which he gives away or lends his drawings often exposes him to irreparable losses.

VIII. The Soldier

To define once more the kind of subject this artist likes best, let us call it the pomp of life, as it is displayed in the capitals of the civilized world, the pageant of military life, of high life, of loose life. Our eye-witness is always punctually at his observation post, wherever flow the deep and impetuous desires, the great rivers of the human heart, war, love, gaming; wherever the festivities and figments which are the external form of these great elements of happiness and sorrow are in full swing. But the artist shows a very marked predilection for military life, for the soldier, and I think that this love of his derives, not only from the virtues and qualities that inevitably flow from the warrior's soul into his bearing and his face, but also from the showy apparel his profession clothes him in. M. Paul de Molènes has written a few pages, as delightful to read as they are full of good sense, on military coquetry and on the moral significance to be drawn from those dazzling costumes in which all governments like dressing their troops. M. G. would willingly sign these pages.

We have already spoken of the idiom of beauty peculiar to every age, and we have noted that every century had, so to speak, its own characteristic grace. The same observation may be applied to the professions; each one draws its external beauty from the moral laws that govern it. In some, this type of beauty will be marked by energy, and in others it will bear the visible signs of idleness. It is, as it were, the emblem of character, the stamp of fate. The soldier considered in general has his type of beauty, just as the dandy and the woman of the town have theirs, and each has its own distinctive quality. The reader will accept it as natural that I should ignore those professions where, as a result of a single form of violent exercise, muscles become distorted and the face is marked by servitude. Accustomed as he is to surprises, the soldier does not easily lose his composure. Thus, in this case, beauty will consist of a carefree, martial air, a strange mixture of calm and boldness; it is a form of beauty that comes from the need to be ready to die at any moment. But the face of the ideal military man must be stamped with a great air of simplicity; for living as they do in a community, like monks and schoolboys, accustomed as they are to unload the daily concern of living on to a remote, paternalist organization, soldiers are, in many matters, as simple as children; and like children, once duty has been done, they are easy to amuse, and given to boisterous forms of fun. I do not think I am exaggerating when I maintain that all these moral considerations spring naturally from the sketches and water-colours of M. G. Not a single military type is missing, and all of them have been caught by the artist with a kind of enthusiastic joy: the old infantry officer, of the sad countenance, distressing his horse by his obesity; the pampered staff officer, wasp-waisted and bending forward over ladies' chairs without bashfulness, with affected movements of the shoulders, and, seen from the rear, reminiscent of some slender and elegant insect; the zouave and the rifleman, whose whole bearing suggests outstanding audacity, self-reliance and, as it were, a more than ordinary sense of personal responsibility; and the free and easy manner, the mercurial gaiety of the light cavalry; the vaguely professorial and academic features of the technical arms, like the gunners and the sappers, often confirmed by the unwarlike apparatus of spectacles: none of these models, none of these nuances is neglected, and all of them are summed up, defined, with the same love and wit.

I have in front of me, as I write, one of these drawings; its subject, which conveys a general impression of heroism, is the head of an infantry column; maybe these men are back from Italy and have halted on the boulevards, basking in the enthusiasm of the crowds; maybe they have just accomplished long marches on the roads of Lombardy; I do not know, but what is dearly visible, what comes across fully, is the steadfast audacious character, even in repose, of all these sun-tanned, weather-beaten faces.

This is without a doubt the uniform expression produced by discipline, sufferings undergone together, the resigned air of courage, tempered by long periods of exhausting strain. Trousers turned up and tucked into gaiters, great-coats tarnished by dust and vaguely discoloured, the whole equipment in fact has itself taken on the indestructible appearance of beings that have returned from afar, and have experienced strange adventures. It really is as though these men were more solidly screwed on to their hips, more firmly planted on their feet, more self-assured than ordinary mortals. If Charlet, who was always on the look-out for just this kind of beauty, and who found it often enough, had seen this drawing, he would have been greatly impressed by it.

IX. The Dandy

The wealthy man, who, blasé though he may be, has no occupation in life but to chase along the highway of happiness, the man nurtured in luxury, and habituated from early youth to being obeyed by others, the man, finally, who has no profession other than elegance, is bound at all times to have a facial expression of a very special kind. Dandyism is an ill-defined social attitude as strange as duelling; it goes back a long way, since Caesar, Catilina, Alcibiades provide us with brilliant examples of it; it is very widespread, since Chateaubriand found examples of it in the forests and on the lake-sides of the New World. Dandyism, which is an institution outside the law, has a rigorous code of laws that all its subjects are strictly bound by, however ardent and independent their individual characters may be.

The English novelists, more than others, have cultivated the 'high life' type of novel, and their French counterparts who, like M. de Custine, have tried to specialize in love novels have very wisely taken care to endow their characters with purses long enough for them to indulge without hesitation their slightest whims; and they freed them from any profession. These beings have no other status but that of cultivating the idea of beauty in their own persons, of satisfying their passions, of feeling and thinking. Thus they possess, to their hearts' content, and to a vast degree, both time and money, without which fantasy, reduced to the state of ephemeral reverie, can scarcely be translated into action. It is unfortunately very true that, without leisure and money, love can be no more than an orgy of the common man, or the accomplishment of a conjugal duty. Instead of being a sudden impulse full of ardour and reverie, it becomes a distastefully utilitarian affair.

If I speak of love in the context of dandyism, the reason is that love is the natural occupation of men of leisure. But the dandy does not consider love as a special aim in life. If I have mentioned money, the reason is that money is indispensable to those who make an exclusive cult of their passions, but the dandy does not aspire to wealth as an object in itself; an open bank credit could suit him just as well; he leaves that squalid passion to vulgar mortals. Contrary to what a lot of thoughtless people seem to believe, dandyism is not even an excessive delight in clothes and material elegance. For the perfect dandy, these things are no more than the symbol of the aristocratic superiority of his mind. Thus, in his eyes, enamoured as he is above all of distinction, perfection in dress consists in absolute simplicity, which is, indeed, the best way of being distinguished. What then can this passion be, which has crystallized into a doctrine, and has formed a number of outstanding devotees, this unwritten code that has moulded so proud a brotherhood? It is, above all, the burning desire to create a personal form of originality, within the external limits of social conventions. It is a kind of cult of the ego which can still survive the pursuit of that form of happiness to be found in others, in woman for example; which can even survive what are called illusions. It is the pleasure of causing surprise in others, and the proud satisfaction of never showing any oneself. A dandy may be blasé, he may even suffer pain, but in the latter case he will keep smiling, like the Spartan under the bite of the fox.

Clearly, then, dandyism in certain respects comes close to spirituality and to stoicism, but a dandy can never be a vulgar man. If he were to commit a crime, he might perhaps be socially damned, but if the crime came from some trivial cause, the disgrace would be irreparable. Let the reader not be shocked by this mixture of the grave and the gay; let him rather reflect that there is a sort of grandeur in all follies, a driving power in every sort of excess. A strange form of spirituality indeed! For those who are its high priests and its victims at one and the same time, all the complicated material conditions they subject themselves to, from the most flawless dress at any time of day or night to the most risky sporting feats, are no more than a series of gymnastic exercises suitable to strengthen the will and school the soul. Indeed I was not far wrong when I compared dandyism to a kind of religion. The most rigorous monastic rule, the inexorable commands of the Old Man of the Mountain, who enjoined suicide on his intoxicated disciples, were not more despotic or more slavishly obeyed than this doctrine of elegance and originality, which, like the others, imposes upon its ambitious and humble sectaries, men as often as not full of spirit, passion, courage, controlled energy, the terrible precept: Perinde ac cadaver! [as a corpse].

Fastidious, unbelievables, beaux, lions or dandies: whichever label these men claim for themselves, one and all stem from the same origin, all share the same characteristic of opposition and revolt; all are representatives of what is best in human pride, of that need, which is too rare in the modern generation, to combat and destroy triviality. That is the source, in your dandy, of that haughty, patrician attitude, aggressive even in its coldness. Dandyism appears especially in those periods of transition when democracy has not yet become all-powerful, and when aristocracy is only partially weakened and discredited. In the confusion of such times, a certain number of men, disenchanted and leisured 'outsiders', but all of them richly endowed with native energy, may conceive the idea of establishing a new kind of aristocracy, all the more difficult to break down because established on the most precious, the most indestructible faculties, on the divine gifts that neither work nor money can give. Dandyism is the last flicker of heroism in decadent ages; and the sort of dandy discovered by the traveller in Northern America in no sense invalidates this idea; for there is no valid reason why we should not believe that the tribes we call savage are not the remnants of great civilizations of the past. Dandyism is a setting sun; like the declining star, it is magnificent, without heat and full of melancholy. But alas! the rising tide of democracy, which spreads everywhere and reduces everything to the same level, is daily carrying away these last champions of human pride, and submerging, in the waters of oblivion, the last traces of these remarkable myrmidons. Here in France, dandies are becoming rarer and rarer, whereas amongst our neighbours in England the state of society and the constitution (the true constitution, the one that is expressed in social habits) will, for a long time yet, leave room for the heirs of Sheridan, Brummell and Byron, always assuming that men worthy of them come forward.

What to the reader may have seemed a digression is not one in fact. The moral reflections and musings that arise from the drawings of an artist are in many cases the best interpretation that the critic can make of them; the notions they suggest are part of an underlying idea, and, by revealing them in turn, we may uncover the root idea itself. Need I say that when M. G. commits one of his dandies to paper, he always gives him his historical character, we might almost say his legendary character, were it not that we are dealing with our own day and with things that are generally held to be light-hearted? For here we surely have that ease of bearing, that sureness of manner, that simplicity in the habit of command, that way of wearing a frock-coat or controlling a horse, that calmness revealing strength in every circumstance, that convince us, when our eye does pick out one of those privileged beings, in whom the attractive and the formidable mingle so mysteriously: 'There goes a rich man perhaps, but quite certainly an unemployed Hercules.'

The specific beauty of the dandy consists particularly in that cold exterior resulting from the unshakeable determination to remain unmoved; one is reminded of a latent fire, whose existence is merely suspected, and which, if it wanted to, but it does not, could burst forth in all its brightness. All that is expressed to perfection in these illustrations.

X. Woman

The being who, for most men, is the source of the most lively, and even, be it said to the shame of philosophical delights, the most lasting joys; the being towards or for whom all their efforts tend; that awe-inspiring being, incommunicable like God (with this difference that the infinite does not reveal itself because it would blind and crush the finite, whereas the being we are speaking about is incommunicable only, perhaps, because having nothing to communicate); that being in whom Joseph de Maistre saw a beautiful animal, whose charm brightens and facilitates the serious game of politics; for whom and by whom fortunes are made and lost; for whom, but especially by whom, artists and poets compose their most delicate jewels; from whom flow the most enervating pleasures and the most enriching sufferings - woman, in a word, is not, for the artist in general and for M. G. in particular, only the female of the human species. She is rather a divinity, a star, that presides over all the conceptions of the male brain; she is like the shimmer of all graces of nature, condensed into one being; she is the object of the most intense admiration and interest that the spectacle of life can offer to man's contemplation. She is a kind of idol, empty-headed perhaps, but dazzling, enchanting, an idol that holds men's destinies and wills in thrall to her glances. She is not, I repeat, an animal whose limbs, correctly assembled, provide a perfect example of harmony; nor is she even that type of pure beauty which might be imagined by a sculptor, in his moments of most austere meditation; not even that would suffice to explain her mysterious and complex spellbinding power. Neither Winckelmann nor Raphael can help us in this context; and I am sure that M. G., in spite of the breadth of his intelligence (be it said without affront to him), would turn away from a piece of ancient statuary if, by looking at it, he were to lose the opportunity of enjoying a portrait by Reynolds or Lawrence. All the things that adorn woman, all the things that go to enhance her beauty, are part of herself; and the artists who have made a special study of this enigmatic being are just as enchanted by the whole mundus muliebris [world of women] as by woman herself. Woman is doubtless a light, a glance, an invitation to happiness, sometimes a spoken word; but above all, she is a harmonious whole, not only in her carriage and in the movement of her limbs, but also in the muslins and the gauzes, in the vast and iridescent clouds of draperies in which she envelops herself, and which are, so to speak, the attributes and the pedestal of her divinity; in the metal and precious stones that serpentine round her arms and neck, that add their sparkle to the fire of her eyes, or whisper softly at her ears. When he describes the pleasure caused by the sight of a beautiful woman, what poet would dare to distinguish between her and her apparel? Show me the man who, in the street, at the theatre, or in the Bois, has not enjoyed, in a wholly detached way, the sight of a beautifully composed attire, and has not carried away with him an image inseparable from the beauty of the woman wearing it, thus making of the two, the woman and the dress, an indivisible whole. This seems to me the moment to come back to certain questions relating to fashion and adornment, which I only briefly touched on at the beginning of this study, and to vindicate the art of dress against the inept slanders heaped upon it by certain highly equivocal nature-lovers.

XI. In Praise of Make-Up

I know a song so valueless and futile that I scarcely dare quote from it in a work with some claims to being serious; but it expresses very aptly, in vaudeville style, the aesthetic notions of people not given to thinking. 'Nature embellishes beauty.' It may be presumed that the 'poet', had he been able to write his own language properly, would have said: 'Simplicity embellishes beauty', which is tantamount to this truth of a wholly unexpected kind: 'Nothing embellishes what is.'

Most wrong ideas about beauty derive from the false notion the eighteenth century had about ethics. In those days, Nature was taken as a basis, source and prototype of all possible forms of good and beauty. The rejection of original sin is in no small measure responsible for the general blindness of those days. If, however, we are prepared merely to consult the facts that stare us in the face, the experience of all ages, and the Gazette des Tribunaux, we can see at once that natures teaches nothing or nearly nothing; in other words, it compels man to sleep, drink, eat and to protect himself as best he can against the inclemencies of the weather. It is nature too that drives man to kill his fellow-man, to eat him, to imprison and torture him; for as soon as we move from the order of necessities and needs to that of luxury and pleasures, we see that nature can do nothing but counsel crime. It is this so-called infallible nature that has produced parricide and cannibalism, and a thousand other abominations, which modesty and nice feeling alike prevent our mentioning. It is philosophy (I am referring to the right kind), it is religion that enjoins upon us to succour our poor and enfeebled parents. Nature (which is nothing but the inner voice of self-interest) tells us to knock them on the head. Review, analyse everything that is natural, all the actions and desires of absolutely natural man: you will find nothing that is not horrible. Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation. Crime, which the human animal took a fancy to in his mother's womb, is by origin natural. Virtue, on the other hand, is artificial, supernatural, since in every age and nation gods and prophets have been necessary to teach it to bestialized humanity, and since man by himself would have been powerless to discover it. Evil is done without effort, naturally, it is the working of fate; good is always the product of an art. All I have said about nature, as a bad counsellor in matters of ethics, and about reason, as the true power of redemption and reform, can be transferred to the order of beauty. Thus I am led to regard adornment as one of the signs of the primitive nobility of the human soul. The races that our confused and perverted civilization so glibly calls savage, with a quite laughable pride and fatuity, appreciate, just as children do, the high spiritual quality of dress. The savage and the infant show their distaste for the real by their naive delight in bright feathers of different colours, in shimmering fabrics, in the superlative majesty of artificial shapes, thus unconsciously proving the immateriality of their souls. Woe to him who, like Louis XV (who far from being the product of a true civilization was that of a recurrence of barbarism), drives depravity to the point of appreciating nothing but nature unadorned.〔1〕

Fashion must therefore be thought of as a symptom of the taste for the ideal that floats on the surface in the human brain, above all the coarse, earthy and disgusting things that life according to nature accumulates, as a sublime distortion of nature, or rather as a permanent and constantly renewed effort to reform nature. For this reason, it has been judiciously observed (though without discovering the cause) that all fashions are charming, or rather relatively charming, each one being a new striving, more or less well conceived, after beauty, an approximate statement of an ideal, the desire for which constantly teases the unsatisfied human mind. But, if we want to enjoy fashions thoroughly, we must not look upon them as dead things; we might as well admire a lot of old clothes hung up, limp and inert, like the skin of St Bartholomew, in the cupboard of a second-hand-clothes dealer. They must be pictured as full of the life and vitality of the beautiful women who wore them. Only in that way can we give them meaning and value. If therefore the aphorism 'All fashions are charming' offends you as being too absolute, say - and then you can be sure of making no mistake - all were legitimately charming in their day.

Woman is well within her rights, we may even say she carries out a kind of duty, in devoting herself to the task of fostering a magic and supernatural aura about her appearance; she must create a sense of surprise, she must fascinate; idol that she is, she must adorn herself, to be adored. It follows, she must borrow, from all the arts, the means of rising above nature, in order the better to conquer the hearts and impress the minds of men. It matters very little that the ruse and the artifice be known of all, if their success is certain, and the effect always irresistible. These are the kind of reflections that lead the philosopher-artist to justify readily all the means employed by women, over the centuries, to consolidate and, so to speak, divinize their fragile beauty. Any enumeration would have to include countless details; but, to limit ourselves to what in our day is commonly called make-up, who can fail to see that the use of rice powder, so fatuously anathematized by innocent philosophers, has as its purpose and result to hide all the blemishes that nature has so outrageously scattered over the complexion, and to create an abstract unity of texture and colour in the skin, which unity, like the one produced by tights, immediately approximates the human being to a statue, in other words to a divine or superior being? As for black pencil for eye effects, and rouge for heightening the colour of the upper part of the cheek, although their use comes from the same principle, the need to surpass nature, the result is destined to satisfy a quite opposite need. Red and black represent life, a supernatural, excessive life; black rings round the eyes give them a deeper and stranger look, a more decisive appearance of a window open on the infinite; the rouge which heightens the glow of cheek-bones confers still greater brightness on the pupils, and gives to a lovely woman's face the mysterious passion of a priestess.

Thus, if I have been properly understood, painting the face is not to be used with the vulgar, unavowable intention of imitating the fair face of nature, or competing with youth. It has, moreover, been observed that artifice does not embellish ugliness, and can only serve beauty. Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature? Make-up has no need of concealment, no need to avoid discovery; on the contrary, it can go in for display, if not with affectation, at least with a sort of ingenuousness.

I will readily allow people whose ponderous gravity prevents their looking for beauty in its very minutest manifestations to laugh at my reflections, and to condemn their childish solemnity; the austere judgements of such folk worry me not at all; I am content to appeal to the true artists, and to women who have received at birth a spark of that sacred fire they would feign use to light up their whole being.

XII. Women: Honest Ones, and Others

Thus M. G., having undertaken the task of seeking and explaining beauty in modernity, enjoys depicting women in all their finery, their beauty enhanced by every kind of artifice, regardless of what social class they belong to. Moreover, in the whole of his works, just as in the throng and bustle of human life itself, the differences of class and breeding, whatever may be the apparatus of luxury used by the individual, are immediately apparent to the eye of the spectator.

At one moment we see, bathed in the diffused light of the auditorium, a group of young women of the highest social circles, the brightness reflected in their eyes, in their jewellery and on their shoulders, framed in their boxes, resplendent as portraits. Some of them are grave and serious, others fair and feather-brained. Some display their precocious charms with aristocratic nonchalance, others, in all innocence, their boyish busts. All are biting their fans, and have a far-away look in their eyes, or a fixed stare; their postures are theatrical and solemn, like the play or opera they are pretending to listen to.

Another time we see smartly dressed families strolling along the paths of the public gardens, the wives without a care in the world, leaning on the arms of their husbands, whose solid contented air betrays the self-made man, full of money and self-satisfaction. Here the general air of wealth takes the place of haughty distinction. Little girls with match-stick arms and ballooning skirts, looking like little women by their gestures and appearance, are skipping, playing with hoops or pretending to be grown-ups on a visit, performing in the open air the social comedy their parents perform at home.

Or again, we are shown a lower level of society, where chits of actresses from the suburban theatres, proud as peacocks to appear at last in the glare of the footlights, slim, frail, scarcely grown-up, are shaking down, over their virginal, sickly bodies, absurd garments which belong to no period, but are the joy of their owners.

Or, at a café door, we see, leaning against the broad windows lit from without and within, one of those lounging halfwits; his elegance is the work of his tailor, and the distinguished cut of his jib, that of his hairdresser. Beside him, her feet resting on the indispensable footstool, sits his mistress, a great cow of a woman, in whom almost nothing is lacking (but that 'almost nothing' meaning almost everything, in a word: distinction) to make her look like a high-born lady. Like her pretty boyfriend, she has, filling the whole orifice of her little mouth, an outsize cigar. Neither of these two beings has a thought in his head. Can one even be sure they are looking at anything - unless, like Narcissuses of fat-headedness, they are contemplating the crowd, as though it were a river, offering them their own image. In reality they exist much more for the joy of the observer than for their own.

And now we get a glimpse of the amusement halls, your Valentinos, your Casinos, your Prados (the Tivolis, the Idalias, the Follies, the Paphoses of former days), glory-holes with their galleries full of light and hubbub, where the idle, gilded youth can give free rein to their animal spirits. Women, who have exaggerated the latest fashion to the point where its grace of line is spoilt, are ostentatiously sweeping the polished floors with their trains and the points of their shawls, as they come and go, pass and repass, wide-eyed like animals, apparently seeing nothing but in fact observing everything.

Against a background of light as from the infernal regions or of the aurora borealis, red, orange, sulphurous, pink (a pink suggesting a notion of ecstasy in frivolity), sometimes violet (that colour, like dying embers behind a blue curtain, so beloved of canonesses), against such magical backgrounds, with diversified firework effects, we are shown the varied image of the shadier type of beauty, now majestic, now frolicsome, now slim, thin even, now cyclopean, now doll-like and sparkling, now heavy and statuesque. This shady type of beauty either displays an alluring and barbaric form of elegance of her own invention, or she apes, more or less successfully, the simplicity current in higher circles. She moves towards us, glides, dances, sways as though by the weight of her embroidered petticoats, acting as both pendulum and pedestal to her; her eyes flash from under her hat like a portrait in its frame. She is a perfect image of savagery in the midst of civilization. She has a kind of beauty, which comes to her from sin; always lacking spirituality, but at times tinged with fatigue masquerading as melancholy. Her eyes are cast towards the horizon, like a beast of prey: the same wildness, the same indolent detachment, sometimes the same riveted attention. She is a gipsy type, dwelling on the fringes of regular society; the triviality which is the substance of her life of trickery and struggle inevitably betrays itself beneath the surface finery. To her may well be applied the words of the inimitable master La Bruyère: 'Some women have an artificial nobility, which is due to the way they move their eyes or hold their heads, or their manner of walking; and it goes no deeper...'

These reflections about the courtesan may, to a certain extent, be applied to the actress; for she too is a creature of show, an object of public pleasure. But in this case the conquest and the prey are of a nobler, more spiritual kind. The aim is to win public favour, not only by pure physical beauty, but also by talents of the rarest order. If, on the one hand, the actress comes close to the courtesan, on the other she reaches up to the poet. Let us not forget that, apart from natural beauty and even artificial beauty, all beings have the stamp of their trade, a characteristic which may, on the physical level, express itself as ugliness, but also as a kind of professional beauty.

In this extensive gallery of London and Paris life, we meet with the different types of unattached woman, of the woman in revolt, at every level: first the woman of the town in the first flower of her beauty, cultivating, as best she can, patrician airs, proud both of her youth and of her luxury, which expresses such genius and soul as she possesses; we see her delicately holding with two fingers a broad flounce of the satin, the silk or the velvet that floats about her, and showing off her pointed foot, in a shoe whose excessive ornateness would be enough to reveal her for what she is, even without the rather showy emphasis of her dress. Down the ladder a few rungs, and we come upon the slaves confined in those hovels, often enough decorated like cafés; unfortunate creatures these, subjected to the most avaricious tutelage, with nothing they can call their own, not even the eccentric adornments that act as condiment to their beauty. Amongst these, some, in whom an innocent yet monstrous sort of fatuity is only too apparent, carry in their faces and in their eyes, which look you brazenly in the face, the evident joy of being alive (in truth, one wonders why). Sometimes they effortlessly adopt poses, both provocative and dignified, that would be the joy of the most fastidious sculptor, if only the sculptor of today had the courage and the wit to seize hold of nobility everywhere, even in the mire; at others, they show themselves in prostrate attitudes of despairing boredom, or flaunt the indolent postures of café life, with masculine effrontery, and smoking cigarettes to pass away the hours with resigned, oriental fatalism; there they lie, sprawling on sofas, skirts ballooning to front and back double-fanwise, or they balance themselves precariously on stools or chairs; fat, dejected, empty-headed, absurd, their eyes glazed with brandy, and their obstinacy written across their rounded foreheads. We have reached the bottom step of the spiral to find the foemina simplex of the Latin satirist. Nor shall we fail, at some time, to discern through the drink and smoke-laden atmosphere, here the emaciated, feverish cheeks of the consumptive, there the curves of adiposity, that hideous form of health born of sloth. In this foggy chaos, bathed in golden light, undreamed of by indigent chastity, gruesome nymphs and living dolls, whose childlike eyes have sinister flashes, move and contort themselves; whilst behind a counter laden with liqueur bottles lolls a fat shrew, her hair tied up in a dirty silk scarf, which throws on the wall the shadow of its satanic points, thus convincing us that everything dedicated to Evil must be condemned to have horns.

In truth, my purpose in spreading out before the reader's eyes scenes such as these is neither to please nor to scandalize him; in either case, that would have been to show him scant respect. What gives these scenes value and a kind of sanctity is the innumerable thoughts they give rise to, usually austere and gloomy. But if, by chance, some ill-advised person were to seek an opportunity to satisfy an unhealthy curiosity in these works of M. G.'s, scattered as they are here, there and everywhere, let me give him a charitable warning that he will find nothing to excite a prurient imagination. He will find nothing but inevitable vice, in other words the eye of the devil hidden in the shadows, or Messalina's shoulder gleaming under the gaslight; nothing but pure art, in other words the type of beauty peculiar to evil, the beautiful in the horrible. And even, to recall in passing what has previously been said, the general impression conveyed by this great store-house is more full of sadness than fun. What constitutes the specifically beautiful quality of these pictures is their moral fecundity. They are big with suggestion, cruel, harsh suggestion, which my pen, accustomed though it is to struggle with the evocation of plastic images, may have rendered only inadequately.

XIII. Carriages

And so they extend into the distance, these long galleries of 'high life' and 'low life', with innumerable side galleries leading from them. Let us for a moment escape towards a world which, if not pure, is at least more refined; let us breathe perfumes, not more wholesome perhaps, but more delicate. I have already said that M. G.'s brush, like that of Eugène Lami, was wonderfully fitted to depict the glories of dandyism and the elegance of society lionesses. The attitudes of the rich man are well-known to him; he can, with a light stroke of the pen and a sureness of hand which is never at fault, capture that indefinable sense of security evident in eye, gesture and carriage which comes from the monotony of good fortune in the lives of privileged beings. In this particular series of drawings we are presented with sporting, racing, hunting occasions in their innumerable aspects, with horse and carriage exercise in the woods, with proud dames or a delicate miss controlling, with practised hand, steeds of impeccable contour, stylish, glossy, and themselves as capricious as women. For M. G. not only knows all about the horse in general, but applies himself with equal success to expressing the individual beauty of horses. Some drawings depict a meeting, a veritable encampment, of numerous equipages, where, perched up on the cushions, the seats, the boxes, shapely youths and women, attired in the eccentric costumes authorized by the season, are seen watching some solemn turf event, the runners disappearing in the distance; another shows a horseman cantering gracefully alongside an open light four-wheeler, his curveting mount bowing, it might seem, in his own way, whilst the carriage follows an alley streaked with light and shade, at a brisk trot, carrying along a bevy of beauties, cradled as in the gondola of a balloon, lolling on the cushions, lending an inattentive ear to compliments, and lazily enjoying the caresses of the breeze.

Fur or muslin wraps them to the chin and flows in waves over the carriage door. The domestics are stiff and perpendicular, motionless and all alike; as always, they are the monotonous and uncharacterized effigy of servility, precise and disciplined; their whole character consists in having none. In the background, the woods are decked in green or brown, shimmering with light or darkening, according to the hour and the season. Its bowers are full of autumn mists, blue shadows, yellow beams, rose-pink effulgence or thin streaks of lightning flashing through the darkness, like sword thrusts.

If the countless water-colours from the war in the Levant had not shown us M. G.'s powers as a landscape artist, these would certainly suffice to do so. But here no question of the war-torn ground of the Crimea, nor the theatrical shores of the Bosphorus; we are back in the familiar intimate landscapes that encircle any of our big cities with verdure, and where the play of light produces effects that a truly romantic artist cannot disdain.

Another merit which is not unworthy of mention here is the remarkable knowledge of harness and coachwork. M. G. draws and paints a carriage, and every kind of carriage, with the same care and the same ease as a skilled marine artist displays over every kind of ship. All his coachwork is correct, every detail is in its right place, and does not need to be gone over again. In whatever position it is drawn, at whatever speed it may be going, a carriage, like a vessel, derives, from the fact of motion, a mysterious and complex gracefulness which is very difficult to note down in shorthand. The pleasure that the artist's eye gets from it comes apparently from the series of geometrical figures that the object, already so complex in itself, vessel or carriage, describes successively in space.

We are betting on a certainty when we say that in a few years the drawings of M. G. will become precious archives of civilized life. His works will be sought after by discerning collectors, as much as those of Debucourt, of Moreau, of Saint-Aubin, of Carle Vernet, of Lami, of Deveria, of Gavarni, and of all those exquisite artists who, although they have confined themselves to recording what is familiar and pretty, are nonetheless, in their own ways, important historians. Several of them have even sacrificed too much to the 'pretty-pretty', and have sometimes introduced into their compositions a classic style foreign to the subject; several have deliberately rounded the angles, smoothed over the harshness of life, toned down its flashing colours. Less skilful than they, M. G. retains a profound merit, which is all his own; he has deliberately filled a function which other artists disdain, and which a man of the world above all others could carry out. He has gone everywhere in quest of the ephemeral, the fleeting forms of beauty in the life of our day, the characteristic traits of what, with the reader's permission, we have called 'moder-nity'. Often bizarre, violent, excessive, but always full of poetry, he has succeeded, in his drawings, in distilling the bitter or heady flavour of the wine of life.

注　释

〔1〕It is recorded that when Madame Dubarry wanted to avoid receiving the King, she was careful to put on rouge. That was enough; it meant she was closing her door. In beautifying herself she used to put to flight the royal disciple of nature.

The Life and Work of Eugène Delacroix

To the Editor of L'Opinion nationale

Sir,

Once more, and for the last time, I want to pay tribute to the genius of Eugène Delacroix, and I beg you to be good enough to find space in your paper for these few pages, where I shall endeavour to set down as briefly as possible the record of his talent, the reasons for his superiority (which, in my opinion, is not yet properly recognized), and finally some anecdotes and some observations on his life and character.

I had the good fortune when still very young (as early as 1845, if I remember rightly) to have friendly contact with this great man, now dead; and in this relationship, where respect on my side and kindness on his did not exclude mutual confidence and familiarity, I was able to form at leisure extremely accurate notions not only on his method but also on the most intimate qualities of his great soul.

You will not expect me, sir, to embark here on a detailed analysis of the works of Delacroix. Apart from the fact that each of us has done that according to his power, as and when the great painter showed the public the successive productions of his thought, the list of these is so long that, even allowing only a few lines to each of his major works, an analysis of this sort would well nigh fill a volume. Let it suffice for us to give a rapid summary.

His monumental paintings cover the walls of the Salon du Roi at the Chambre des Députés, of the Library of the Chambre des Députés, of the Library of the Luxemburg Palace, of the Galerie d'Apollon at the Louvre, and of the Salon de la Paix at the Hôtel de Ville. These decorative pieces include an enormous mass of allegorical, religious and historical subjects, all of which belong to the highest spheres of human intelligence. As for his so-called easel pictures, his sketches, grisailles, water-colours, etc. - the total reaches an approximate figure of 236.

The great compositions exhibited at different Salons number seventy-seven. I am taking these facts from the catalogue that M. Théophile Silvestre published at the end of his excellent study of Eugène Delacroix in his book entitled Histoire des Peintres Vivants.

I have myself tried more than once to draw up this enormous catalogue; but my patience was invariably exhausted by this unbelievable fecundity, and in the end I gave up the unequal struggle. If M. Théophile Silvestre has made any mistakes, it can be only by omission.

To my mind, sir, the important thing here is simply to look for the characteristic quality of Delacroix's genius and to try and define it; to ask ourselves in what way he differs from his illustrious predecessors, whilst equalling them; and finally to show, in so far as the written word allows, the magical art thanks to which he succeeded in translating the spoken word into plastic images, more full of life and more appropriate than those of any other creator of the same profession: in short, to show what speciality Providence had entrusted to Eugène Delacroix in the historical development of painting.

I

What is Delacroix? What was his role and what his duty in this world? That is the first question we must examine. I shall be brief, and I aim to arrive at immediate conclusions. Flanders has Rubens, Italy has Raphael and Veronese; France has Lebrun, David and Delacroix.

A superficial mind may be shocked, at first sight, by my bracketing together these names, which stand for such different qualities and methods. But a more penetrating spiritual eye will see at once that there is, between them all, a common relationship, a kind of brotherhood or cousinage, stemming from their love of the great, the national, the immense and the universal, a love that has always found expression in so-called decorative painting and in what are known as great machines.

Many others, no doubt, have executed great machines; but those I have named did them in the manner most likely to leave an eternal mark in human memory. Which is the greatest of these men, so diverse in their greatness? Each of us is free to decide that as he pleases, according to whether by nature he is inclined to prefer the prolific, shining, almost jovial abundance of Rubens, or the soft majesty and eurhythmic order of Raphael, the paradisal and land-of-afternoon colours of Veronese, the austere and intense severity of David, or the dramatic and quasiliterary fluency of Lebrun.

None of these men can be replaced; they had a similar aim but used different methods, drawn from their personal natures. Delacroix, the last-comer, expressed with admirable vehemence and fervour what the others had conveyed only incompletely. In doing so, did he perhaps sacrifice other qualities, as his predecessors, for that matter, did before him? It may be so, but that is not the question that claims our attention.

Many others besides me have taken care to emphasize the inevitable consequences of an essentially personal genius; and it could also well be, after all, that the finest expressions of genius elsewhere than in purest heaven - here below, in other words, where even perfection is imperfect - can be achieved only at the price of inevitable sacrifice.

But 'Come, sir!' you will doubtless be saying, 'what then is this mysterious, indefinable something that Delacroix, to the great glory of our age, has communicated better than anyone else?' The answer is: the invisible, the impalpable, reverie, the nerves, the soul; and this he did - pray, sir, take good note of this - without any means other than contour and colour; he did it better than anyone you care to mention; he did it with the perfection of a consummate painter, with the rigour of a subtle writer, the eloquence of a passionate musician. It is one element in the diagnosis of the spiritual climate of our age, be it added, that the arts strive, if not to substitute for one another, at least to lend each other new power and strength, by the help of their own.

Delacroix is the most suggestive of all painters, the one whose works, even those chosen from amongst the minor or inferior ones, give the most food for thought, and recall to mind the greatest sum of poetic feelings and thought already experienced, but believed to have been engulfed for ever in the night of time.

The work of Delacroix sometimes seems to me to be like a mnemonic device of the greatness and the inborn passions of universal man. This peculiar and wholly new merit of M. Delacroix, which enabled him to express simply by contour man's gesture, however violent, and to evoke with colour alone what might be called the atmosphere of the human drama, or the spiritual mood of the creator - this quality, peculiar to him, has always drawn to him the sympathy of all poets; and, if it were legitimate to draw a philosophic proof from a purely material phenomenon, I would ask you to notice, sir, that in the crowd that gathered to pay him the last honours, many more writers could be counted than painters. To put it crudely, the truth is that the latter have never fully understood him.

II

And what, after all, is so surprising about that? Do we not know that the age of the Michelangelos, the Raphaels, the Leonardo da Vincis, yes, and even of the Reynoldses, is long since passed, and that the general intellectual level of artists has gone down markedly? Doubtless it would be unfair to look for philosophers, poets and scientists amongst contemporary artists; but it would be legitimate to expect from them a greater degree of interest than they evince in religion, poetry and the sciences.

Beyond the walls of their studios what do they know? What do they like? What do they want to express? Eugène Delacroix, on the other hand, was, as well as a painter devoted to his art, a man of general culture, in contrast to other modern artists, who are for the most part scarcely more than well-known or obscure daubers, gloomy specialists, be they old or young; craftsmen pure and simple, some of them with the knack of producing academic figures, others fruit, others again cattle. Eugène Delacroix loved everything, could paint everything and was capable of appreciating every kind of talent. His was a mind open to all ideas and to all impressions; he was the most eclectic and impartial lover of all experience.

A great reader, that goes without saying. His readings from the poets left him with awe-inspiring visions, quickly achieving sharpness of outline: ready-made pictures, so to speak. However different he may have been from his master, Guérin, in his method and his colour, he inherited, from the great republican and imperial school, the love of the poets and an indefinably vigorous spirit of rivalry with the written word. David, Guérin and Girodet set their minds aflame by contact with Homer, Virgil, Racine and Ossian. Delacroix was the moving translator of Shakespeare, Dante, Byron and Ariosto. There is an important similarity, and a slight difference.

But let us now, by your leave, Mr Editor, go more deeply into what might be called the teaching of the master, teaching that, for me, arises not only from the successive contemplation of all his works and of several side by side, as one was able to enjoy them at the Universal Exhibition of 1855, but also from many a conversation I had with the artist himself.

III

Delacroix was passionately in love with passion, and coldly determined to seek the means of expressing passion in the most visible manner. In this dual character, be it said in passing, we find the two distinguishing marks of the most substantial geniuses, extreme geniuses, scarcely created to please timorous souls who are easy to satisfy, and find adequate nourishment in flabby, soft, imperfect works. An immense thrust of passion coupled with formidable will-power, such was the man.

And he was fond of repeating: 'Since I consider the impression communicated by nature to the artist as the most important thing to translate, is it not necessary that he should be forearmed with all the quickest means of translation?'

It is clear that, in his eyes, imagination was the most precious gift, the most important faculty, but that this faculty remained powerless and sterile if it did not have at its command a swift technical skill, capable of following the great despotic faculty in its impatient flights of fancy. There was certainly no need for him to stoke up the fires of his imagination, constantly at white heat; but he always found the day too short for the study of the technical means of expression.

To that ceaseless preoccupation must be attributed his unremitting researches into colour and the quality of colours, his interest in problems of chemistry and his discussion with colour manufacturers. In this matter he comes close to Leonardo da Vinci, who was also a prey to these obsessions.

In spite of his admiration for the ardent phenomena of life, never can Eugène Delacroix be confused with that mob of vulgar artists and writers whose myopic intelligence shelters behind that vague and obscure word realism. The first time I saw M. Delacroix, in 1845, I believe it was (how the swift and voracious years flow away!), we talked about many commonplace subjects, in other words, questions vast in scope and yet of the simplest: nature, for example. At this point, sir, I shall, with your permission, quote a passage of my own, for a paraphrase would not be as good as the words I once wrote, almost under the master's dictation: 'Nature is but a dictionary,' he was fond of saying. To understand clearly the full meaning implied in this remark, we must bear in mind the numerous and ordinary uses a dictionary is put to. We look up the meaning of words, the derivation of words, the etymology of words; and, finally, we get from a dictionary all the component parts of sentences and ordered narrative; but no one has ever thought of a dictionary as a composition in the poetic sense of the word. Painters who obey imagination consult their dictionaries in search of elements that fit in with their conceptions; and even then, in arranging them with artistry, they give them a wholly new appearance. Those who have no imagination copy the dictionary, from which arises a very great vice, the vice of banality, to which are particularly exposed those painters whose speciality lies nearest to socalled inanimate nature: the landscape artists, for example, who regard it generally as a triumph if they can conceal their personalities. They contemplate so much that in the end they forget to feel and to think.

'For this great painter, all the areas of art, of which one man selects this one, and another that one, as the most important, were - are, I mean - no more than the most humble handmaids of a unique and superior faculty. If a very neat execution is necessary, that is so that the dream may be very clearly translated; if it should be very quick, that is to ensure that nothing is lost of the extraordinary impression that accompanied the birth of the idea; if the artist should pay attention to the cleanness of his tools, that too is easily understood, since every precaution should be taken to ensure that the execution is nimble and decisive.'

In passing be it added that, never in my life, did I see a palette so minutely and delicately prepared as Delacroix's. It looked like a bouquet of skilfully assorted flowers.

'In such a method, which is essentially logical, all the figures, their grouping in relation to each other, the landscape or interior that provides their background or horizon, their clothes, everything, in short, must serve to shed light on the general idea, and wear its original colour - its livery, so to speak. Just as a dream is bathed in its own appropriate atmosphere, so a conception, become composition, needs to have its being in a setting of colour peculiar to itself. Obviously a given tone will be attributed to some portion or other of the picture, and this then becomes the key, controlling all the others. Everyone knows that yellow, orange and red inspire and represent ideas of joy, wealth, glory and love; but there are thousands of yellow or red atmospheres, and all the other colours will be modified logically and in given proportions by the dominant atmosphere. The art of the colourist is evidently connected, in some respects, with mathematics and music.

'Yet its most delicate operations are the result of a sentiment which long practice has brought to a degree of sureness that defeats description. It will be seen that this great law of overall harmony condemns many garish efforts and raw daubings, even though by the hand of the most illustrious painters. There are some paintings by Rubens that remind us, not only of a coloured firework, but of several fireworks set off on the same ground. The bigger the picture, the broader must be the touches of colour, that goes without saying; but the touches are better not worked into each other; they melt naturally together, at a given distance, by the law of sympathy that brought them together. In this way colour gains in energy and freshness.

'A good picture, faithful and worthy of the dreams that gave it birth, must be created like a world. Just as the creation, as we see it, is the result of several creations, the earlier ones always being completed by the later, so a harmonically fashioned picture consists of a series of superimposed pictures, each fresh surface giving added reality to the dream, and raising it by one degree towards perfection. In complete contrast, I remember seeing, in the studios of Paul Delaroche and Horace Vernet, enormous canvases, not broadly sketched in, but begun piecemeal, in other words, completely finished in certain areas whilst others existed only in a black or white outline. This sort of product could be compared to a purely manual type of work, to which is assigned the job of covering a given area in a given time, or to a long road divided into a large number of stages. As soon as one stage has been completed, that is the end of that, and when the road has been followed throughout its whole length, the artist is delivered of his picture.

'All these precepts are, of course, modified, more or less, by the different temperaments of the artists. But I am convinced that the foregoing is the surest method for men with rich imaginations. It follows that too great deviations from the method in question are proof that an abnormal and unjustified importance is being attributed to some secondary aspect of art.

'I am not afraid of its being said that it is absurd to imagine a single system of teaching being applied to a crowd of different individuals. For it is evident that systems of rhetoric and prosody are not arbitrarily invented forms of tyranny, but collections of rules demanded by the very structure of a man's spiritual being. Nor have systems of rhetoric and prosody ever prevented originality from showing itself clearly. The contrary, namely that they have helped the flowering of originality, would be infinitely truer.

'For the sake of brevity, I must omit a number of corollaries deriving from the main principle, which, so to speak, contains within itself the whole code of true aesthetics, and may be expressed as follows: the whole visible universe is nothing but a storehouse of images and signs, to which man's imagination will assign a place and relative value; it is a kind of pasture for the imagination to digest and transform. All the faculties of the human soul must be subordinated to the imagination, which puts them all under contribution at once. Just as a good knowledge of the dictionary does not necessarily imply a knowledge of the art of composition, and the art of composition itself does not imply the gift of universal imagination, so a good painter may well not be a great painter, but a great painter is of necessity a skilful painter, because a universal imagination comprises the understanding of all technical means and the desire to acquire them.

'From the ideas I have just explained to the best of my ability (and how many more things there would be to say, particularly on the areas of common ground between the arts and the similarities between their methods), it is evident that the immense group of artists, or, in other words, of men dedicated to artistic expression, may be divided into two very distinct camps. In one, we have those who call themselves "realists", a word with a double meaning, and the sense of which is not precisely determined; to bring out more clearly their error, we will call them "positivists". The "positivist" says: "I want to represent things as they are, or as they would be on the assumption that I did not exist." The universe without man. In the other camp, there are the imaginative ones who say: "I want to illuminate things with my mind and cast its reflection on other minds." Although both these methods, which are diametrically opposed, may enhance or diminish any subject, from a religious scene to the most modest landscape, yet the imaginative man must usually have come to the fore in religious painting and in fantasy, whereas genre paintings, so-called, and landscape must, on the face of it, have offered vast resources to lazy minds not easily stimulated...

'Delacroix's imagination! Here was an imagination that never feared to scale the difficult heights of religion; heaven belongs to it, just as hell does, and war, and Olympus and pleasure. He surely is the archetype of the painter-poet! He surely is one of the rare elect, and the breadth of his mind brings religion into its domain. His imagination, as fiercely bright as a mortuary chapel, is alight with every shade of flame and crimson. All the grief in the Passion enthrals him; all the splendours in the Church fill him with light. Onto his inspired canvases he pours blood, light and darkness, by turns. I believe he would gladly add his own natural magnificence to the majesty of the Gospel, as an extra offering.

'I remember seeing a little Annonciation by Delacroix, where the angel, messenger to Mary, was not alone but ceremoniously escorted by two other angels, and the impact of this heavenly company was powerful and full of charm. One of his early paintings, Le Christ aux Oliviers ("Lord, take thou this cup from me"), is suffused with feminine tenderness and poetic suavity. The suffering and the majesty which resound so loudly in religion always awaken an echo in his mind.'

And still more recently, with reference to the Chapel of the Holy Angels at St Sulpice (Héliodore, chassé du Temple and La Lutte de Jacob avec l'Ange), his last great work, so inanely criticized, I said: 'Never, not even in the Clémence de Trajan, not even in L'Entrée des Croisés à Constantinople, has Delacroix displayed a sense of colour more splendidly and more learnedly supernatural; never has he executed a drawing more deliberately epic. I am well aware that some people, stonemasons, no doubt, architects perhaps, have pronounced the word decadence with reference to this last work. This is the place for me to recall that the great masters, poets or painters, Hugo or Delacroix, are always several years ahead of their timid admirers.

'In relation to genius the public are like a clock that is losing. Amongst perceptive people, who does not understand that the first picture by the Master contained all the others in embryo? But that he should constantly perfect his natural gifts, that he should sharpen them with care, draw new effects from them, that he should himself drive his nature to the utmost, that is inevitable, inescapable, and praiseworthy. The principal feature of Delacroix's genius is precisely that it knows not decadence; it displays only progress. But his original qualities were so powerful and so rich, and they made such a vigorous impact on even the most commonplace minds, that the latter are insensitive to his daily progress; only informed minds can perceive it clearly.

'I referred just now to the remarks of certain masons. For me, the word describes that class of gross materialistic minds (their number is legion) that take an appreciative interest in objects only by their contour or worse still on a three-dimensional basis: breadth, length and depth, just as savages or peasants do. I have often heard people of that sort draw up a hierarchy of qualities, which was totally unintelligible to me; they would maintain, for example, that the faculty that enables this man to create an exact contour or that man a contour of supernatural beauty is superior to the faculty that can assemble colours in an enchanting manner. According to these people colour has no power to dream, to think or speak. It would appear that when I contemplate the works of those men especially known as colourists, I am giving myself up to a pleasure that is not of a noble kind; for twopence they would stamp me as a materialist, reserving for themselves the aristocratic epithet of spiritualists.

'These shallow minds do not reflect that the two faculties can never be entirely separated and that both are the result of an original seed carefully cultivated. External nature does no more than provide the artist with an ever-recurring chance of cultivating the seed; nature is no more than an uncoordinated mass of material that the artist is invited to assemble and put in order, an incitamentum, an alarm-clock for the slumbering faculties. To speak with precision, there is in nature neither line nor colour. It is man that creates line and colour. Both are abstractions drawing their equal dignity from the same origin.

'As a child, a draughtsman born will see in nature, whether still or moving, a number of sinuous shapes from which he gets some pleasure and which he enjoys recording by lines on paper, accentuating or reducing as the spirit moves him their inflections. In this way he learns how to produce curves, elegance and character in drawing. Now let us imagine the case of a child destined to perfect that part of art called colour: it is from the collision or happy union of two tones and the pleasure he gets from it that he will derive the inexhaustible knowledge of tone combinations. In both cases nature has acted exclusively as a stimulus.

'Both line and colour arouse thought and induce reverie; the pleasures that flow from these are different in kind, but perfectly equal and absolutely independent of the subject of the picture.

'A picture by Delacroix, placed too far away for you to be able to assess the merits of the contours or the greater or lesser dramatic quality of the subject, offers even at that distance a supernatural pleasure. It is as though a magical atmosphere has moved towards you and is enveloping you. This impression, gloomy and yet delightful, luminous but calm, and planted for ever in your memory, is the proof of the genuine, the perfect colourist. Nor will the act of analysing the subject when you come closer take anything away from this initial pleasure, or add anything to it, its source being elsewhere and far removed from any defined thought.

'I can reverse the example. A well-drawn figure inspires in you a pleasure that is quite foreign to the subject. Be it voluptuous or frightening, this figure owes its charm exclusively to the pattern it describes in space. The limbs of a martyr being flayed alive, or the body of a nymph in a swoon, provided they are skilfully drawn, offer a species of pleasure in which the nature of the subject counts for nothing; if it were otherwise for you, you would oblige me to write you down as a torturer or an amorist.

'But alas! what is the good, what is the good of for ever repeating these useless truths?'

Yet perhaps, sir, your readers will value all this rhetoric less than the details I am myself impatient to give them on the personality and the way of life of our lamented great painter.

IV

It is particularly in the writings of Eugène Delacroix that the duality of nature I was referring to emerges. Many people, as you yourself know, sir, were surprised at the wisdom of his written opinions and the moderation of his style, a matter of regret for some people, for others a reason for approval. Les Variations du beau, the studies on Poussin, Prud'hon and Charlet, and the other pieces published either in L'Artiste, which then belonged to M. Ricourt, or even in the Revue des Deux Mondes, only serve to confirm this dual character of great artists, which leads them, as critics, to praise and analyse with special relish the qualities which they stand in most need of as creative artists and which are the antithesis of those they possess in abundance. If Eugène Delacroix had praised and commended the things we particularly admire in him, his violence, the decisive gesture, the tumultuousness of his composition, the magic of his colour, that in truth would have been good reason for astonishment. Why look for the things we possess superabundantly, and how may we avoid the urge to extol the things that seem rarer to us and more difficult to acquire? We shall always see the same phenomenon emerge, Mr Editor, in creative geniuses, whether painters or writers, every time they apply their faculties to criticism. At the time of the great struggle between the two schools, the classic and the romantic, the simpletons gaped in surprise when they heard Eugène Delacroix constantly vaunting Racine, La Fontaine and Boileau. I know a poet, naturally given to storm and stress, who goes into prolonged ecstasy over a line of Malherbe, symmetrical and musically four-square.

Moreover, however wise, sensible, and clearly defined in expression and intention the great painter's literary fragments may seem to us, it would be absurd for us to think they were written easily and with the same sureness of attack as his brush displays. He was as confident of writing what he thought on canvas as he was worried at his inability to paint his thought on paper. 'The pen', he was fond of saying, 'is not my tool; I feel that I am thinking right, but the need for ordered argument, which I am forced to observe, puts me off. Would you believe it, but the fact of having to write a page of text gives me a migraine?' This awkwardness, which comes from lack of practice, accounts for certain rather threadbare, rather poncif, and even First Empire expressions that fell too often from a pen otherwise distinguished.

The most obviously characteristic features of Delacroix's style are conciseness, and a kind of intensity without ostentation, the usual type of thing arising from concentrating the whole of one's spiritual powers on a given point. 'The hero is he who is immovably centred,' says Emerson, the transatlantic moralist, who may have the reputation of being the leader of the boring Bostonian school, but who nonetheless has a certain touch of Seneca about him, which can well be a spur to meditation. 'The hero is he who is immovably centred' - the maxim that the leader of American 'transcendentalism' applies to the conduct of life and to the sphere of business - may equally well be applied to the domain of poetry and art. One could just as well say: 'The hero of literature, the true writer, in other words, is he who is immovably centred.' You will not therefore be surprised to learn, sir, that Delacroix had a very pronounced sympathy for concise and concentrated writers, those whose prose, little encumbered with ornaments of style, appears to imitate the quick movement of thought, and whose sentences have the decisiveness of a gesture, Montesquieu, for example. I can give you a curious example of this fruitful and poetic brevity. No doubt you have read, as I have, a very interesting and very fine study by M. Paul de Saint-Victor, which appeared recently in La Presse, on the ceiling of the Galerie d'Apollon. The various conceptions of the flood, the way the legends about the deluge should be interpreted, the inner meaning of the scenes and actions that go to make up the whole of this marvellous piece of painting, nothing has been forgotten; and the painting itself is minutely described in that charming style, as witty as it is colourful, of which the author has given us so many examples. Yet the whole thing will leave only a formless shadow of itself in our memories, something like the very pale light of a photographic enlargement. Compare this lengthy passage with the following few lines, to my mind much more vigorous and more conducive to creating a mental picture, even if one were to suppose that the picture they sum up did not exist. I am simply giving what is said in the programme distributed by M. Delacroix to his friends when he invited them to come and see the work in question:

Apollo, conqueror of the serpent Python

Mounted on his chariot, the god has already shot a number of his arrows; his sister Diana behind him, in full cry, offers him her quiver. The hideous reptile, bleeding from wounds already inflicted by the arrows of the god of heat and life, is seen in its death throes, writhing with impotent rage, and enveloped in a fiery haze. The waters of the deluge are beginning to recede, leaving the corpses of men and animals behind them on the mountain tops, or carrying them away. The gods are indignant at the sight of the earth delivered over to ill-shapen monsters, foul spawn of primeval slime. They have armed themselves, as Apollo has done; Minerva and Mercury are seen springing forward to exterminate them, that eternal wisdom may in time repeople the solitude of the universe. Hercules is crushing them with his club; Vulcan, the god of fire, is driving night and its fetid vapours before him, while Boreas and the Zephyrs dry up the waters with their breath and scatter the remnants of the clouds. The nymphs of the rivers and the streams have returned to their withy beds and their urn, still soiled with mire and debris. A number of shyer divinities are watching from a distance this struggle between the gods and the elements. Meanwhile, from highest heaven, Victory is shown coming down to crown Apollo victor, and Iris, messenger of the gods, unfurls in the soft air her veil, symbol of light's triumph over darkness and the rebellion of the waters.

I know the reader will have to imagine a great deal and collaborate, so to speak, with the author of the explanatory note; but do you honestly think, sir, that my admiration for the painter has transformed me into a visionary in this case, and that I am wholly wrong in claiming to see here the traces of aristocratic habits, acquired by reading good books, and of that precision of thought which has enabled society folk, soldiers, adventurers and even courtiers to write, with careless unconcern, mighty fine books, which we professional writers cannot help admiring?

V

Eugène Delacroix was a strange mixture of scepticism, courtesy, dandyism, fiery will, guile, despotism, and, withal, of a species of particular kindness and restrained tenderness that always accompanies genius. His father belonged to that race of strong men, the last of whom we knew in our childhood: some of them were fervent apostles of Jean-Jacques, others were convinced disciples of Voltaire, but all of them took part with equal determination in the French Revolution; and their survivors, Jacobins or left-wing progressives, rallied in perfect good faith (it is important to remember) to the policies of Bonaparte.

Eugène Delacroix always retained traces of this revolutionary background. It may be said of him, as of Stendhal, that he was frightened to death of being taken in. Sceptical and aristocratic as he was, his experience of passion and the supernatural came to him only through his enforced acquaintance with reverie. A hater of the masses, he thought of them only as iconoclasts, and the violence suffered at their hands by some of his own works in 1848 was scarcely calculated to convert him to the political sentimentality of our times. In his bearing, manners and opinions, there was even something in him reminiscent of Victor Jacquemont. I know that the comparison is slightly unflattering, and I therefore intend it to be taken only with reserve. There was, in Jacquemont, a suggestion of a middle-class wit, with a chip on his shoulder, and a waggishness that was as ready to fool the priests of Brahma as those of Jesus Christ. Delacroix, guided by the good taste always inherent in genius, could never have stooped to such low tricks. My comparison, therefore, refers only to the spirit of cautiousness and moderation that marks them both. In the same way, the hereditary traits which the eighteenth century had left in his nature seemed to be borrowed particularly from that class as far removed from utopians as from madmen, the class of polite sceptics, the victors and survivors, who, generally, derived from Voltaire, rather than Jean-Jacques. Thus at first sight, Eugène Delacroix appeared simply as a man of the 'Enlightenment' in the best sense of the word, a perfect gentleman without prejudices and without passions. Only by cultivating his society more assiduously could one penetrate the veneer, and become aware of the deeper recesses of his soul. A man to whom he could more legitimately be compared, in his outward bearing and manners, is M. Mérimée. He had the same apparent coldness, slightly affected, the same icy mantle covering modest sensitiveness and an ardent passion for what is good and beautiful; under the same simulated egoism was to be found the same devotion to personal friends and dearly held ideas.

There was something of the recluse in Eugène Delacroix; that was the most precious side of his nature, the side entirely dedicated to giving pictorial form to his dreams, and to the worship of his art. There was something in him of the society man; that part of him was destined to hide the other, and to allay any resentment it could cause. I believe it to have been one of the great preoccupations of his life to conceal the waves of anger welling up in his heart, and to appear not to be a man of genius. His spirit of domination, which was perfectly legitimate, inevitable moreover, had almost disappeared under the cloak of countless kindnesses. One could have compared him to the crater of a volcano artistically hidden under a bouquet of flowers.

Another point of resemblance with Stendhal was his liking for simple formulas, brief maxims, for the good conduct of life. Like all people whose liking for method is all the greater because their ardent and sensitive temperament seems to turn them away from it, Delacroix liked fashioning those little catechisms of practical morality, which nit-wits and layabouts without an aim in life are likely to attribute disdainfully to M. de la Palisse, but which genius does not despise because genius is related to simplicity; sound, strong, simple, hard maxims that are a breast-plate and shield for the man driven by genius into an everlasting battle.

Need I tell you that the same spirit of unshakeable and disdainful wisdom inspired the opinions of M. Delacroix in political matters? He believed that nothing changes, although everything appears to change, and that certain climacteric periods in the history of nations invariably bring back analogous phenomena. In fact, his thought in this sort of question came very close, especially in its aspects of cold and distressing resignation, to the thought of a historian I, for my part, have a great respect for, and whom you, sir, who are so familiar with these arguments and can appreciate talent even when it contradicts you, have surely been constrained to admire more than once. I refer to M. Ferrari, the subtle and learned author of the Histoire de la Raison d'État. Inevitably, any talker who, in the presence of M. Delacroix, let himself go in childish utopian enthusiasms very soon felt the effect of his bitter laugh, informed with sarcastic pity; and if, incautiously, one were, in his hearing, to launch the grand chimera of modern times, the monster-balloon of perfectibility and indefinite progress, he was fond of asking: 'Where then are your Phidiases? Where are your Raphaels?'

You may be sure, on the other hand, that M. Delacroix's robust good sense in no way detracted from his charm of manner. This vigorous incredulity, this refusal to be taken in, gave a kind of Byronic flavour to his conversation, so full of poetry and colour. He had also, drawn from within himself much more than derived from his long experience of society - from himself, that is his genius, and from the knowledge of his genius - a self-confidence, a wonderful ease of manner, and with them a politeness that emitted, like a prism, every shade from the most cordial bonhomie to the most irreproachable brush-off. He had a good twenty ways of saying 'Mon cher monsieur', in which a practised ear could detect a remarkable scale of feelings. For after all, I must add, since the fact strikes me as another reason for praise, Eugène Delacroix, although a man of genius, or because he was a complete man of genius, had much of the dandy about him. He himself admitted that, in his youth, he had indulged with joy in all the material vanities of dandyism, and, laughing at himself but not without a suspicion of self-glorification, told how, with the help of his friend Bonington, he had worked hard to implant in the fashionable younger set the taste for English cut in footwear and clothes. This detail, I presume, will not seem out of place to you; for no memories are superfluous when we are portraying the nature of certain men.

I have told you that what particularly struck the attentive observer was the natural part of Delacroix's soul, in spite of the obscuring veil cast over it by our refined way of life. He was full of energy, but an energy that came from the nerves and the will; for physically he was frail and delicate. The tiger, shadowing his prey, has less glint in his eyes and impatient twitching of his muscles than our great painter showed, when his whole soul was pinpointed on an idea, or wanted to take possession of adream. The physical character of his features, his Peruvian or Malaysian complexion, his big dark eyes, which seemed to get smaller as they blinked in concentration, appeared to be sipping at the light, his mass of glossy hair, his obstinate brow, his tight lips, to which the constant tension of his will imparted a cruel expression, his whole person, in fact, conveyed the idea of an exotic origin. More than once, as I stood looking at him, there came into my mind a vision of the ancient rulers of Mexico, of Montezuma, whose hand, practised in sacrificial rites, could dispatch, in the space of a single day, three thousand human creatures on the pyramidal altar of the sun, or one of the Hindu princes who, in the splendours of the most glorious festivals, have, in the depths of their eyes, a look of unsatisfied greed and an inexplicable nostalgia, something that might be the memory of things unknown and yearning for them. Pray note that the general tonality of Delacroix's paintings also conforms to the colour appropriate to eastern landscapes and interiors, and that it produces an impression analogous to that felt in tropical lands, where a vast diffusion of light creates, for the sensitive eye, a general effect that is quasicrepuscular in spite of the intensity of local tones. The morality of his works, if in fact one may legitimately speak of morality in painting, also has a visible connection with Moloch; nothing in his work that does not tell of desolation, massacres, fire; everything bears witness against the everlasting and incorrigible barbarity of man; cities set alight and smoking, murder and rape, children thrown under the horses' hooves, or stabbed by mothers unhinged with horror; the whole work, I repeat, is like a terrible hymn composed in honour of fate and inescapable grief. Sometimes he found it possible to apply his brush to the expression of tender and voluptuous feelings, for he certainly did not lack tenderness; but there too the incurable sense of bitterness was present in strong degree, whilst carefree joy, the usual companion of simple pleasure, was absent. Only once, I think, did he make a tentative incursion into drollery and buffoonery, and, as though he had guessed that to be beyond and beneath his nature, he never came back to it.

VI

I know a number of people who have the right to say Odi profanum vulgus; but which of them can add triumphantly et arceo [I hate the vulgar crowd ... and keep at a distance]? Handshakes, too freely given, debase the character. If ever a man had an 'ivory tower', well defended by bars and bolts, it was Eugène Delacroix. Who more than he has loved his 'ivory tower', his privacy, in other words? I believe he would willingly have armed it with cannon, and removed it to the depth of a forest or to the top of an inaccessible rock. Who more than he has loved his home, both sanctuary and den? Others may seek privacy for the sake of debauchery; he sought it for the sake of inspiration, and he indulged in veritable orgies, of work. 'The one prudence in life is concentration; the one evil is dissipation,' says the American philosopher we have already quoted.

M. Delacroix could have been the author of that maxim; in any case he certainly practised it with austerity. He was too much a man of society not to despise society; and the efforts he made to avoid being too visibly himself drove him naturally to enjoy our society most. 'Our' does not imply merely the humble author of these lines; but also some others, young or old, journalists, poets, musicians, amongst whom he could freely relax and let himself go.

In his delightful monograph study on Chopin, Liszt numbers Delacroix amongst the musician-poet's most frequent visitors, and says that he loved to fall into deep reverie at the sound of that delicate and passionate music, which evokes a brightly coloured bird, hovering over the horrors of a bottomless pit.

And so it came about that, owing to our very genuine admiration, we were admitted, though still very young at the time, into that well-guarded studio, where the temperature, despite our inclement climate, was equatorial, and where the first thing that struck the visitor's eye was the air of restrained solemnity, and that austerity peculiar to the old school. Exactly similar were the studios, seen in our childhood, of the former rivals of David, men of touching heroism, long since gone. To penetrate this retreat was to feel at once that it could not be the abode of a frivolous mind excited by a thousand incoherent whims.

No rusty armour, no Malayan kukris, no old Gothic ironwork, no trinkets, no old clothes, no bric-à-brac, nothing that reveals in its owner a liking for the latest trifle, or for wandering away in childish dreaming. A wonderful portrait by Jordaens, which he had unearthed heaven knows where, a few studies, and a number of copies, done by the master himself, were all the decoration to be seen in this vast studio, where reigned a spirit of reflection, bathed in a soft, peaceful light.

These copies will probably be seen at the sale of Delacroix's drawings and pictures due to take place, so I am told, next January. He had two very distinct manners in copying. One, the free and broad, was compounded of fidelity and infidelity, and into it he put a great deal of himself. From this manner a bastard and delightful product emerged, throwing the mind into an agreeable state of uncertainty. It is in this paradoxical guise that I first saw a copy of the Miracles de Saint Benoît by Rubens. In his other manner, Delacroix becomes his model's most obedient and humble slave, and he achieved an exactness of imitation that those people may well doubt who have not seen these miracles. Such, for example, are the copies made of two heads by Raphael in the Louvre, where the expression, the style and manner are imitated with such perfect naturalness that nothing could be easier than to take the originals for the translations and vice versa.

After a luncheon lighter than an Arab's, and having arranged the colours on his palette with as much care as a flower girl or a cloth vendor, Delacroix would strive once more to recapture the interrupted flow of ideas; but before launching into his stormy work, he would often experience a feeling of languor or of terror, or of exasperation that recalls the pythoness fleeing the presence of the God, or Jean-Jacques Rousseau frittering his time away or tidying up papers and books for a whole hour before putting pen to paper. But once the fascination had gripped the artist, he would stop only when overcome by physical fatigue.

One day as we were discussing a matter of abiding interest to artists and writers, namely the tonic effect of work and the conduct of life, he said to me: 'Years ago, when I was young, I could settle down to work only when I had some pleasure in prospect for the evening. Some music, or dancing, or any other sort of entertainment. But nowadays I am no longer like a schoolboy; I can work without ceasing and without any hope of reward. Moreover,' he added, 'if only you knew how broad-minded and easy to please hard work makes one when it comes to pleasures! The man who has filled his working day to his own satisfaction will be quite happy in the company of the local street porter, playing cards with him!'

This remark made me think of Machiavelli playing at dice with the peasants. One day, a Sunday, I caught sight of Delacroix in the Louvre; with him was his old maid, the one who looked after him so devotedly, and served him for thirty years. He, the man of fashion, the dandy, the scholar, was not at all above showing and explaining the mysteries of Assyrian sculpture to this worthy woman, who, moreover, was listening to him with unaffected attention. The image of Machiavelli and the memory of my conversation years before at once came into my mind.

The truth is that in his last years, all the things we commonly call pleasure had disappeared from his life. One pleasure only, harsh, demanding, terrible, had replaced them all: work, which by then was no longer merely a passion but could well have been called a craving.

After devoting all the hours of daylight to painting, either in his studio or on the scaffoldings to which his big decorative work called him, Delacroix still found strength in his love of art, and he would have felt his day had been badly filled if the evening hours at his fireside had not been used, by the light of the lamp, to draw, to cover his paper with dreams, with projects, with figures he had chanced to catch a glimpse of in the daily round, sometimes to copy the drawings of other artists with temperaments wholly opposed to his; for he had a passion for notes and sketches, and used to busy himself with them wherever he might be. For quite a long time, he had a habit of drawing at the houses of friends with whom he was spending the evening. That is how M. Villot comes to own quite a number of excellent drawings from this prolific pen.

He once said to a young man I know: 'If you have not got the knack of making a sketch of a man who has thrown himself out of the window whilst he is falling from the fourth storey to the ground, you will never be able to go in for the big stuff.' I perceive in that colossal hyperbole the central preoccupation of his whole life, which, as is well known, was to execute a drawing with enough speed and enough exactness to let no particle evaporate of the action's intensity or of the idea.

As many other people have been able to observe, Delacroix was fond of conversation. But the funny thing is that he was suspicious of conversation, as if it were a kind of debauchery, a sort of dissipation in which he ran the risk of wasting his strength. His first words when you went to see him at his studio were: 'We won't have a talk this morning, if you agree? Or else only a very short one.'

And then he would talk for three hours on end. His conversation was startling, subtle but full of facts, memories and anecdotes: in short, full of nourishment.

When he was roused by contradiction, he would withdraw momentarily, and then, instead of delivering a frontal attack on his adversary, a manoeuvre that carries the danger of introducing the brutality of platform oratory into the skirmishes of the drawing-room, he would sport for a while with his opponent, and then return to the attack with a whole lot of unexpected arguments and facts. It was the characteristic talk of a man delighting in conflict, but a slave to courtesy of a wily kind, yielding by design, full of unexpected ruses in flight and attack.

In the intimacy of his studio, he would willingly let himself go to the point of confiding his opinion about living painters, and it was particularly on those occasions that we often had a chance to admire the generosity of genius, which stems perhaps from a particular form of simplicity, or from a capacity to enjoy things easily.

He had an astonishing weakness for Decamps, much out of favour today, but who doubtless still reigned over Delacroix's mind by the power of memory. The same applies to Charlet. He once summoned me to his house for the express purpose of hauling me over the coals about a disrespectful article I had been guilty of on that spoilt child of chauvinism. In vain did I try to explain that it was not the Charlet of the earlier manner that I had been attacking, but the Charlet of the later decadent period: not the noble historian of Napoleon's veterans but the tavern wit. I never succeeded in getting myself forgiven.

He admired Ingres for certain parts of his work, and, to be sure, he needed a powerful critical faculty to admire by force of reason what he must have rejected by temperament. He even went so far as to copy with care the photographs of some of those pencil portraits done with such minute delicacy, where the hard and penetrating talent of M. Ingres, which gains in skill the more circumscribed it is, is to be seen at its best.

The horrible colour tones of Horace Vernet did not prevent Delacroix from feeling the artist's natural strength, which gives life to most of his pictures; and he used to find surprising expressions of praise for this bubbling and indefatigable energy. His admiration for Meissonier went a little too far. He had acquired almost by violence the preparatory drawings for the composition called La Barricade, the best picture by Meissonier, whose talent, moreover, expresses itself much more vigorously in pencil than with the brush. Of Meissonier he often used to say, as though thinking anxiously of the future: 'After all, of all of us, he is the most certain to survive!' Is it not strange to see the author of such great works casting an envious eye on someone who excels only in little ones?

The only man whose name had the power to draw a few coarse epithets from those aristocratic lips was Paul Delaroche. For the works of that painter he could certainly find no excuse whatever, and he had an ineradicable recollection of what he had suffered at the sight of all that grimy, sour painting, done 'with ink and boot polish', as Théophile Gautier once said.

But the man he liked to choose particularly for launching into lengthy discussions with was the man who was the least like him in talent as in ideas, his diametrical opposite, whose brain, though clouded by the smoky skies of his native town, contains a host of admirable things. I refer to M. Paul Chenavard.

The abstruse theories of this painter-philosopher from Lyons made Delacroix smile, and the abstract principle-chasing pedagogue, on his side, looked upon the sensuous joys of pure painting as frivolous, not to say guilty things. But however distant from each other - and even because of that distance - they liked to come together, and, like two ships locked together by grappling irons, they could no longer part company. Both, moreover, being highly cultivated and endowed with great sociability, they met on the common ground of scholarship. That, as is well known, is not the quality for which artists usually shine.

Chenavard was therefore for Delacroix a great stand-by. It was a real pleasure to see them fighting it out in harmless warfare, the words of the one tramping heavily along like an elephant in full panoply of war, the words of the other as vibrant, as pointed and flexible as a fencing foil. In the last hours of his life, our great painter expressed the wish to shake his friendly gainsayer by the hand. But the latter was far away at the time.

VII

Sentimental and affected women may perhaps be shocked to learn that, like Michelangelo (pray recall the ending of one of his sonnets: 'Sculpture! Divine sculpture, thou art my only love!'), Delacroix had made of painting his unique muse, his mistress, his sole and sufficient pleasure.

No doubt women had been a major preoccupation in the stormy hours of his youth. Who has not sacrificed too much at the altar of this dangerous idol? And who does not know that it is just those men who have served the idol best who complain of her most? But already long before his end he had cut women out of his life. Had he been a Moslem, he would perhaps not have driven her out of his mosque, but in his inability to understand what sort of dialogue she could have with Allah, he would have felt surprised to see her enter it.

In this matter, as in many others, oriental ideas were coming to take a lively and despotic hold of him. He looked upon woman as an object of art, delightful and made to excite the mind, but an unruly and disturbing object if we allow her to cross the threshold of our hearts, devouring greedily our time and strength.

I remember once in some public place, as I was pointing out to him a woman's face of uncommon beauty and melancholy expression, he condescended to admire its beauty, but said to me, with that characteristic laugh of his: 'How can you think that a woman could be melancholy?' thereby insinuating, no doubt, that women lack an essential something to be capable of experiencing the sentiment of melancholy.

That, unfortunately, is a most unflattering theory, and, for my part, I would not wish to commend opinions of a kind defamatory to a sex that has so often shown ardent virtues. But who will not agree that it is a theory full of caution; that talent cannot be too cautious in a world where booby-traps abound; and that a man of genius has the privilege of holding certain opinions (provided they do not threaten public order) which would scandalize us in the citizen pure and simple, or the ordinary father of a family.

I must add, at the risk of casting a shadow over his memory, at least in the opinion of wistful souls, that he showed no greater tenderness for children either. In his mind, children always had jam on their fingers (which dirties canvases and paper) or were for ever beating drums (which disturbs meditation), or were as incendiary, and full of dangerous animal spirits, as monkeys.

'I remember well,' he used sometimes to say, 'that when I was a child I was a little monster. The understanding of duty is acquired only very slowly; and only through suffering, punishment and the developing exercise of reason does man diminish, little by little, his natural wickedness.'

Thus, by simple good sense, he was coming back towards the Catholic idea. For it may be said that children in general, and relatively to the grown man in general, are much closer to original sin.

VIII

It was as though Delacroix had treasured up all his sensibility, which was manly and deep, for the austere feeling of friendship. There are some people who take easily to the first-comer; others allow the divine faculty to operate only on great occasions. The famous man I am speaking to you about with so much pleasure may not have liked being bothered with little things, but he could be helpful, courageous, ardent when important matters were at stake. Those who have known him well have had numerous opportunities of appreciating his wholly English sense of loyalty, punctiliousness and dependability, in social relationships. If he was demanding towards others, he was no less strict with himself.

It is only with sadness and ill-humour that I come to say a few words of certain accusations levelled against Eugène Delacroix. I have heard people tax him with selfishness and even avarice. Pray note, sir, that this reproach is always made, by innumerable hordes of mediocrities, against those who take the trouble to administer their generosity with no less care than their friendship.

Delacroix was very careful with his money; that was the only way for him to be very generous on occasion. I could give several examples of that, but I would hesitate to do it without his authority and that of the people who have had good cause to be glad of him.

Observe too that for many years his paintings fetched poor prices, and that his decorative works swallowed nearly the whole of his salary, when he was not actually out of pocket. He gave many proofs of his own disdain for money when impecunious artists showed their desire to possess one or other of his works. Then, like physicians of a liberal and generous temper, who sometimes insist on being paid for their services and at other times give them for nothing, he would make a present of his pictures or let them go at a knock-down figure.

And finally, sir, let us emphasize that the superior man, more than any other, has to take particular care to defend himself. It is no exaggeration to say that the whole of society is at war with him. More than once we have been able to see how true that is. His politeness is called coldness; his irony, however subdued, becomes spite; his economy, meanness. But if, on the other hand, the unfortunate man shows himself to be improvident, then, far from showing pity for him, society will say: 'Serve him right; his penury is a punishment for his prodigality.'

I can confidently say that in matters of money and economy Delacroix entirely shared Stendhal's opinion, which reconciled greatness with prudence.

'The intelligent man,' the latter used to say, 'should apply himself to acquiring what is strictly necessary to avoid his having to depend on anybody' (in Stendhal's day, this meant an annual income of 6,000 francs); 'but if, having achieved that degree of security, he wastes time in increasing his fortune, the man's a scoundrel.'

The pursuit of what is necessary, disdain for what is superfluous, that is the conduct of a wise man and a stoic.

One of the great preoccupations of our painter in his latter days, was the thought of what posterity's verdict on him would be, and of the uncertain durability of his works. At one moment his lively imagination would catch fire at the thought of immortal glory; at another, he would speak bitterly of the fragility of canvases and colours. At other times again, he would refer with envy to the old masters, nearly all of whom had had the luck to be translated by skilful engravers who had understood how to adapt their own needles and burins to the nature of the master's talent, and he ardently deplored the fact that he had not found his translator. This friability of the painted work of art, compared with the solidity of the printed work, was one of his habitual themes of conversation.

When this man, who was so frail and so stubborn, so highly strung and so stout-hearted, this man unique in the annals of European art, the sickly, the chilly artist, for ever dreaming of covering great walls with his powerful conceptions, was carried off by one of those attacks of inflammation of the lungs of which he had an instinctive foreboding, we were all overcome with a feeling similar to the depression of soul, to the growing sense of solitude, that the deaths of Chateaubriand and of Balzac had already made us feel, an experience quite recently renewed by the death of Vigny. There is, in a time of great national mourning, a lowering of the general vitality, a shadow comes over the intellect similar to a solar eclipse, that momentary imitation of the end of the world.

I think, however, that this impression particularly comes to those men who, in their exalted solitariness of soul, succeed in gathering a family about them only by their intellectual relationships. As for other citizens, they learn to know only slowly the great loss their country has suffered by the death of the great man, and the gap he has created by his going. Even then they need telling.

I thank you heartily, sir, for having allowed me to say freely all the things that were suggested to me by the memory of one of the rare geniuses of our unhappy age, both so poor and so rich, now too demanding, now over-generous, and unjust too often.

From The Salon of 1859

Letters to the Editor of the Revue Française

I. The Modern Artist

My dear M★★★★,

When you did me the honour of asking for a critical review of the Salon you said: 'Be brief; do not produce a catalogue but a general survey, something like the account of a brisk philosophic walk round the exhibition.' Well, your wishes will be fully satisfied; not because your programme fits in, which in fact it does, with my own conception of this boring type of article called a 'Salon'; not because this way of tackling it is easier than the other, brevity always demanding greater efforts than prolixity; but simply because, especially in the present case, no other way is possible. Certainly, my quandary would have been more serious if I had found myself lost in a forest of original works, if the modern French temperament had suddenly undergone a change, and, in its purified, rejuvenated state, had put forth such vigorous and variously scented flowers that the result would have been a series of irrepressible Ohs and Ahs of astonishment, abundant praise, a flow of wordy admiration, and the need for new categories in the language of criticism. But fortunately (for me), nothing of that sort happened. No explosions; no unknown geniuses. The thoughts generated by the sight of this Salon are so simple, so ancient, so classic, that relatively few pages will, no doubt, be all I need to develop them. Do not be surprised, therefore, if banality in the painter has engendered commonplaces in the writer. In any case, you will lose nothing by that; for is there anything (and I am delighted to note that you agree with me in this), anything more charming, more productive, more positively exciting, than the commonplace?

Before I begin, allow me to express a regret that will, I believe, only rarely find expression. We had been told that we were to have some guests to welcome, guests not exactly unknown to us; for the Exhibition in the Avenue Montaigne had already introduced to Parisian exhibitiongoers a number of those charming artists who had been unknown to them far too long. I had therefore looked forward eagerly to renewing my acquaintance with Leslie, that rich, naive and noble humorist, one of the most vigorous embodiments of the British mind; with the two Hunts, one of them a stubborn naturalist, the other the ardent and determined creator of Pre-Raphaelitism; with Maclise, that bold master of composition, as impetuous as he is sure of himself; with Millais, that poet of minute detail; with J. Chalon, that mixture of Claude and Watteau, chronicler of lovely afternoon fêtes in the great Italian parks; with Grant, that natural heir of Reynolds; with Hook, who has the secret of filling his dreams of Venice with a magic light; with that strange Paton, who carries the mind back to Fuseli, and who, with a patience characteristic of another age, embroiders graceful visions of pantheistic chaos; with Cattermole, the painter of historical scenes in water-colour, and with that other astonishing artist, whose name escapes me, architect and dreamer, who builds, on paper, cities with bridges supported by elephants - colossi, under whose legs pass great three-masted schooners in full sail! Wall space had even been reserved for these friends of the imagination and of unusual colour effects, for these, the beloved of the bizarre muse; but alas! for reasons which are unknown to me, and which would, I think, be out of place in your paper, my hopes were disappointed. And so, tragic fires, gestures in the manner of Kean and Macready, intimate studies of the home, oriental splendours, reflected in the poetic mirror of the English mind, Scottish verdures, enchanting arbours, receding depths in water-colours, as spacious as a stage set and yet so small, we shall not gaze on you, not this time at least. Oh! enthusiastic representatives of the imagination and of the most precious faculties of the soul, were you so badly received at your first coming, and do you think us unworthy of understanding you?

And so, my dear M★★★★, we shall have to content ourselves with France; and, believe me, nothing would give me more intense pleasure than to rise to lyrical heights in speaking of my own country's artists; unhappily, in a critical mind with some experience, patriotism does not play an absolutely tyrannical role, and we have certain humiliating admissions to make. The first time I set foot in this Salon, on the very staircase, I met one of our most subtle and most esteemed critics, and to my first question, the question I could naturally be expected to ask, he replied: 'Flat, mediocre; I have seldom seen so depressing a Salon.' He was both right and wrong. An exhibition that can boast a large number of works by Delacroix, by Penguilly and Fromentin cannot be depressing; but looking at the thing as a whole I came to see that there was truth in what he said. True, mediocrity has always dominated the scene in every age, that is beyond dispute; but what is also as true as it is distressing is that the reign of mediocrity is stronger than ever, to the point of triumphant obtrusiveness. After allowing my gaze to wander round for some time on a crowd of platitudes brought to successful conclusions, so many bits of rubbish carefully licked over with the brush, so many stupid or specious things skilfully constructed, I was led, by the natural trend of my reflections, to consider the artist in the past, setting him alongside the artist of today; and then, as usual, at the end of my discouraging meditations, the terrible, the eternal 'Why?' arose inevitably before me. It would seem that meanness, puerility, incuriosity, the flat calm of fatuity have taken the place of ardour, nobility, and turbulent ambition, both in the fine arts and in literature; and that nothing, for the moment, gives us grounds for hope of seeing any spiritual flowering comparable with that of the Restoration. Nor am I alone in feeling oppressed by these sour reflections, believe me; and I shall prove it to you presently. I was accordingly saying to myself: in former days, what manner of man was the artist (Lebrun or David, for example)? Lebrun stands for erudition, imagination, knowledge of the past, love of grandeur. David, that colossus, maligned by a crowd of myrmidons, was he not also love of the past, love of grandeur, allied to erudition? And today, what is the artist, that ancient brother-in-arms of the poet? To answer that question well, my dear M★★★★, we must not be afraid of being too harsh. Scandalous favouritism sometimes calls for a reaction of equal force. Despite his lack of merit, the artist is today, and for many years has been, simply a spoilt child. Just think of the honours, the money squandered on soulless and uncultivated men! For my part, I certainly do not support introducing into a given art means that are foreign to it; and yet, to give an example, I cannot help feeling some sympathy for an artist like Chenavard, always agreeable, agreeable, that is, like good books, and graceful even when most ponderous. At least with him (and what do I care if he be the target of art students' jokes?) I know I can discuss Virgil or Plato. Préault has a delightful talent; it is his instinctive good taste that flings him on the beautiful like a beast of prey on its natural victim. Daumier is endowed with luminous good sense, and this colours his whole conversation. Ricard, in spite of the dazzling and disjointed nature of his talk, reveals at every turn that he knows a lot, and has done a lot of comparative study. There is no need, I think, for me to mention Eugène Delacroix's conversation, which is an admirable mixture of philosophic solidity, light wit and burning enthusiasm. Beyond them I can remember no one worthy of conversing with a philosopher or a poet. Apart from them, you will scarcely find anyone but spoiled children. Tell me, I beg, I entreat you, in what drawing-room, in what tavern, in what social or intimate gathering you have ever heard any witty remark come from the lips of a spoilt child, any profound, brilliant, pregnant remark, a thought- or reverie-provoking one, in short a significant remark! If such a remark has been flung out in conversation, it may not have come from a politician or a philosopher, but certainly from a man of some unusual profession, a hunter, a sailor, a chair-mender; but from an artist, a spoilt child - never!

The spoilt child has inherited from his predecessors a privilege which was legitimate in their day. The enthusiasm that greeted David, Guérin, Girodet, Gros, Delacroix, Bonington, still sheds a kindly afterglow on his mean little person; and while good poets and vigorous historians painfully earn a living, the dunder-headed financier pays sumptuous prices for the spoilt child's indecent bits of impertinence. And please note, that if such favours came the way of worthy recipients, I should not complain. I am not one of those people who begrudge a singer or a dancer who has reached the peak of her art a fortune earned by the hard work and the risks that are her daily portion. If I were, I should be afraid of falling into the pernicious ways of the late Girardin, of fraudulent memory, who one day reproached Théophile Gautier for setting a higher price on his imagination than a Sous-Préfet for his services. That, if you remember rightly, happened on one of those ill-starred days when a terrified public heard him talking in Latin: pecudesque locutae [and the beasts spoke]! No, I am not as unjust as all that; but it is a good thing to raise one's voice and denounce present-day folly when a lovely picture by Delacroix could scarcely find a buyer at a thousand francs, and, at the very same time, the insignificant little figures of Meissonier were fetching ten or even twenty times more. But those happy days are over; now we have sunk even lower, and M. Meissonier, who, in spite of his merits, had the misfortune of introducing and popularizing the taste for the diminutive, is a veritable giant in comparison with our creators of little baubles today.

Imagination discredited, grandeur disdained, love (no, that word is too beautiful) - exclusive concentration on technique, such, I believe, are the main reasons, so far as the artist is concerned, for his decline. The greater the degree of imagination, the surer must be the corresponding mastery of technique, if the latter is to keep pace with the former in its adventurous flights, and to conquer the difficulties imagination eagerly seeks. And the surer his technical mastery, the less the painter should boast and make a parade of it, so that his imagination may shine with its full brilliance. Thus speaks wisdom, and wisdom adds: the man who has mere skill is a fathead, and the man with imagination who tries to do without skill is a lunatic. But simple though such things may be, they are above or below our present-day artist. The daughter of a concierge says to herself: 'I shall go to the Conservatoire, I shall make my début at the Comédie-Française, and I shall speak the lines of Corneille, until such time as I win the same recognition as those who have been speaking them for a long time.' And she is as good as her word. Most classically monotonous, most classically boring and ignorant she is too; but she has succeeded in what was perfectly easy, namely obtaining, by her patience, the privileges of full membership of the Comédie-Française troupe. And the spoilt child, the modern painter, says to himself: 'What is this imagination they talk about? Something dangerous and tiring. What is the study and contemplation of the past? A waste of time. I shall be classical, not like Bertin (for the classical changes its place and its name), but like ... Troyon, for example.' And he does what he said he would. He paints away, and he stops up his soul, and he goes on painting until at last his manner is like that of the artist in fashion, and by his stupidity and skill he deserves the public's favour and money. The imitator of the imitator finds imitators in his turn, and in this way each chases after his own dream of greatness, stopping up more and more tightly his own soul, and above all reading nothing, not even a cookery book, which could at least have provided him with a more glorious, if less lucrative, career. Once he has mastered the art of sauces, patinas, glazes, rubbings, gravies, stews (I am speaking of painting), the spoilt child starts striking attitudes, and repeats, with more conviction than ever, that all the rest is unnecessary.

Once upon a time a German peasant went to see a painter, and this is what he said to him: 'Sir, I want you to paint my portrait. You will show me sitting at the main entrance of my farm in the big armchair I inherited from my father. You will paint my wife by my side, with her distaff; behind us, coming and going, my daughters preparing the family supper. To the left, you will depict the grand avenue, and emerging from it those of my sons who are returning from the fields, after having brought the cows back to the cowshed; others of them, with my grandsons, are busy putting the farm carts stacked with hay under cover. As I contemplate the scene, please do not forget the puffs of smoke from my pipe, tinted by the rays of the setting sun. I should also like the viewer to hear the sounds of the Angelus ringing from the church belfry close by. That is where we all got married, father and sons. It is important that you should paint the satisfied air I enjoy at that time of the day, as I look upon my family and my wealth, increased by the labour of another day.'

Loud cheers for that peasant! Without knowing it, he had understood painting. The love of his profession had heightened his imagination. Which of our fashionable painters would be worthy of executing that portrait, and which of them has an imagination on a level with that one?

II. The Modern Public and Photography

My dear M★★★★,

If I had time to amuse you, I could easily do so by thumbing through the pages of the catalogue, and extracting a list of all the ridiculous titles and laughable subjects that aim to attract the eye. That is so typical of French attitudes. The attempt to provoke astonishment by means that are foreign to the art in question is the great resource of people who are not painters born. Sometimes even, but always in France, this form of vice takes hold of men who are by no means devoid of talent, and who dishonour it, in this way, by an adulterous mixture. I could parade before your eyes the comic title in the manner of the vaudevillist, the sentimental title, lacking only an exclamation mark, the pun-title, the deep and philosophical title, the misleading or trap title such as Brutus, lâche César.

'Oh ye depraved and unbelieving race,' says Our Lord, 'how long must I remain with you, how long shall I continue to suffer?' This people, artists and public, has so little faith in painting that it is for ever trying to disguise it, and wrap it up in sugar-coated pills, like some unpalatable physick - and what sugar! Ye Gods! Let me pick out the titles of two pictures which, by the way, I have not seen: Amour et gibelotte [Love and rabbit fricassee]! How your curiosity is at once whetted, is it not? I am groping about in an effort to relate intimately these two ideas, the idea of love and the idea of a skinned rabbit dished up as a stew. You can scarcely expect me to suppose that the painter's imagination has gone to the length of fixing a quiver, wings and an eye bandage on the corpse of a domestic animal; the allegory would really be too obscure. I am more inclined to think the title must have been composed, following the formula of Misanthropie et repentir [Misanthropy and repentance]. The true title should therefore be 'Lovers eating rabbit stew'. Then comes the question: are they young or old, a workman and his girl friend, or an old soldier and his moll sitting under a dusty arbour? Only the picture could tell me. Then we have Monarchique, Catholique et Soldat! This title belongs to the high-falutin, paladin type, the Itinéraire de Paris à Jerusalem type (oh Chateaubriand, my apologies to you! the most noble things can become means for caricature, and the words of a leader of Empire for daubers' squibs). The picture boasting this title must surely represent a personage doing three things at once: fighting, attending communion, and being present at the 'petit lever' of Louis XIV. Or could it be a warrior, tattooed with a fleur de lys and devotional pictures? But what is the good of losing oneself in speculation? The simple truth is that titles such as these are a perfidious and sterile means of creating an impact of surprise. And what is particularly deplorable is that the picture may be good, however strange that may sound. This applies to Amour et gibelotte too. And I noticed an excellent little group of sculpture, but unfortunately did not take down its number; and when I wanted to look up what the subject of the piece was, I read through the catalogue four times in vain. In the end you told me, of your kindness, that the piece was called Toujours et jamais. It really distressed me to see that a man with genuine talent could go in for the rebus sort of title.

You must forgive my having allowed myself a few moments' amusement in the manner of cheap newspapers. But, however frivolous the matter may seem to you, you will nonetheless discover there, if you examine it carefully, a deplorable symptom. To sum up my thought in a paradoxical way, let me ask you, and those of my friends who are more learned than I in the history of art, whether the taste for the silly, the taste for the witty (which comes to the same thing) have always existed, whether Appartement à louer and other such alembicated notions have appeared in every age, to provoke the same degree of enthusiasm as today, if the Venice of Veronese and Bassano was affected by these sorts of logogriph, if the eyes of Giulio Romano, Michelangelo and Bandinelli were astounded by similar monstrosities; in short I would like to know whether M. Biard is eternal and omnipresent, like God. I do not believe it, and I regard these horrors as a special form of grace granted to the French. It is true that their artists inoculate them with this taste; and it is no less true that they in their turn call upon the artists to satisfy this need; for if the artist makes dullards of the public, the latter pays him back in his own coin. They form two co-relative terms, which act upon one another with equal force. Accordingly let us watch with wonder the rate at which we are moving downwards along the road of progress (and by progress I mean the progressive domination of matter), the wonderful diffusion, occurring daily, of commonplace skill, of the skill that may be acquired simply by patience.

In this country, the natural painter, like the natural poet, is almost a monster. Our exclusive taste for the true (so noble a taste when limited to its proper purposes) oppresses and smothers the taste for the beautiful. Where only the beautiful should be looked for - shall we say in a beautiful painting, and anyone can easily guess the sort I have in mind - our people look only for the true. They are not artistic, naturally artistic; philosophers, perhaps, or moralists, engineers, lovers of instructive anecdotes, anything you like, but never spontaneously artistic. They feel, or rather judge, successively, analytically. Other more favoured peoples feel things quickly, at once, synthetically.

I was referring just now to the artists who seek to astonish the public. The desire to astonish or be astonished is perfectly legitimate. 'It is a happiness to wonder': but also 'It is a happiness to dream.' If you insist on my giving you the title of artist or art-lover, the whole question is by what means you intend to create or to feel this impact of wonder? Because beauty always contains an element of wonder, it would be absurd to assume that what is wonderful is always beautiful. Now the French public, which, in the manner of mean little souls, is singularly incapable of feeling the joy of dreaming or of admiration, wants to have the thrill of surprise by means that are alien to art, and its obedient artists bow to the public's taste; they aim to draw its attention, its surprise, stupefy it, by unworthy stratagems, because they know the public is incapable of deriving ecstasy from the natural means of true art.

In these deplorable times, a new industry has developed, which has helped in no small way to confirm fools in their faith, and to ruin what vestige of the divine might still have remained in the French mind. Naturally, this idolatrous multitude was calling for an ideal worthy of itself and in keeping with its own nature. In the domain of painting and statuary, the present-day credo of the worldly wise, especially in France (and I do not believe that anyone whosoever would dare to maintain the contrary), is this: 'I believe in nature, and I believe only in nature.' (There are good reasons for that.) 'I believe that art is, and can only be, the exact reproduction of nature.' (One timid and dissenting sect wants naturally unpleasing objects, a chamber pot, for example, or a skeleton, to be excluded.) 'Thus if an industrial process could give us a result identical to nature, that would be absolute art.' An avenging God has heard the prayers of this multitude; Daguerre was his messiah. And then they said to themselves: 'Since photography provides us with every desirable guarantee of exactitude' (they believe that, poor madmen!), 'art is photography.' From that moment onwards, our loathsome society rushed, like Narcissus, to contemplate its trivial image on the metallic plate. A form of lunacy, an extraordinary fanaticism, took hold of these new sun-worshippers. Strange abominations manifested themselves. By bringing together and posing a pack of rascals, male and female, dressed up like carnival-time butchers and washerwomen, and in persuading these 'heroes' to 'hold' their improvised grimaces for as long as the photographic process required, people really believed they could represent the tragic and the charming scenes of ancient history. Some democratic writer must have seen in that a cheap means of spreading the dislike of history and painting amongst the masses, thus committing a double sacrilege, and insulting, at one and the same time, the divine art of painting and the sublime art of the actor. It was not long before thousands of pairs of greedy eyes were glued to the peepholes of the stereoscope, as though they were the skylights of the infinite. The love of obscenity, which is as vigorous a growth in the heart of natural man as self-love, could not let slip such a glorious opportunity for its own satisfaction. And pray do not let it be said that children, coming home from school, were the only people to take pleasure in such tomfooleries; it was the rage of society. I once heard a smart woman, a society woman, not of my society, say to her friends, who were discreetly trying to hide such pictures from her, thus taking it upon themselves to have some modesty on her behalf: 'Let me see; nothing shocks me.' That is what she said, I swear it, I heard it with my own ears; but who will believe me? 'You can see that they are great ladies,' says Alexandre Dumas. 'There are greater ones still!' echoes Cazotte.

As the photographic industry became the refuge of all failed painters with too little talent, or too lazy to complete their studies, this universal craze not only assumed the air of blind and imbecile infatuation, but took on the aspect of revenge. I do not believe, or at least I cannot bring myself to believe, that any such stupid conspiracy, in which, as in every other, wicked men and dupes are to be found, could ever achieve a total victory; but I am convinced that the badly applied advances of photography, like all purely material progress for that matter, have greatly contributed to the impoverishment of French artistic genius, rare enough in all conscience. Modern fatuity may roar to its heart's content, eruct all the borborygmi of its pot-bellied person, vomit all the indigestible sophistries stuffed down its greedy gullet by recent philosophy; it is simple common-sense that, when industry erupts into the sphere of art, it becomes the latter's mortal enemy, and in the resulting confusion of functions none is well carried out. Poetry and progress are two ambitious men that hate each other, with an instinctive hatred, and when they meet along a pathway one or other must give way. If photography is allowed to deputize for art in some of art's activities, it will not be long before it has supplanted or corrupted art altogether, thanks to the stupidity of the masses, its natural ally. Photography must, therefore, return to its true duty, which is that of handmaid of the arts and sciences, but their very humble handmaid, like printing and shorthand, which have neither created nor supplemented literature. Let photography quickly enrich the traveller's album, and restore to his eyes the precision his memory may lack; let it adorn the library of the naturalist, magnify microscopic insects, even strengthen, with a few facts, the hypotheses of the astronomer; let it, in short, be the secretary and record-keeper of whomsoever needs absolute material accuracy for professional reasons. So far so good. Let it save crumbling ruins from oblivion, books, engravings, and manuscripts, the prey of time, all those precious things, vowed to dissolution, which crave a place in the archives of our memories; in all these things, photography will deserve our thanks and applause. But if once it be allowed to impinge on the sphere of the intangible and the imaginary, on anything that has value solely because man adds something to it from his soul, then woe betide us!

I know perfectly well I shall be told: 'The disease you have just described is a disease of boneheads. What man worthy of the name of artist, and what true art-lover has ever confused art and industry?' I know that, but let me, in my turn, ask them if they believe in the contagion of good and evil, in the pressure of society on the individual, and the involuntary, inevitable obedience of the individual to society. It is an indisputable and irresistible law that the artist acts upon the public, that the public reacts on the artist; besides, the facts, those damning witnesses, are easy to study; we can measure the full extent of the disaster. More and more, as each day goes by, art is losing in self-respect, is prostrating itself before external reality, and the painter is becoming more and more inclined to paint, not what he dreams, but what he sees. And yet it is a happiness to dream, and it used to be an honour to express what one dreamed; but can one believe that the painter still knows that happiness?

Will the honest observer declare that the invasion of photography and the great industrial madness of today are wholly innocent of this deplorable result? Can it legitimately be supposed that a people whose eyes get used to accepting the results of a material science as products of the beautiful will not, within a given time, have singularly diminished its capacity for judging and feeling those things that are most ethereal and immaterial?

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
论观念
观念通论及观念的起源
简单观念
复杂观念
关乎快乐和痛苦的情状
充分观念和不充分观念
观念的正误
论文字
文字或语言通论
文字的缺陷
文字的滥用
前述缺陷及滥用的补救方法
Of Ideas
Of Ideas in General, and their Original
Of Simple Ideas
Of Complex Ideas
Of Modes of Pleasure and Pain
Of Adequate and Inadequate Ideas
Of True and False Ideas
Of Words
Of Words or Language in General
Of the Imperfection of Words
Of the Abuse of Words

Of the Remedies of the foregoing Imperfections and Abuses

返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

论语言的滥用

（英汉双语）

［英］约翰·洛克　著

孙平华　韩　宁　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

论语言的滥用：英汉双语／（英）洛克（Locke, J.）著；孙平华，韩宁译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3883-9

Ⅰ．①论…　Ⅱ．①洛…　②孙…　③韩…　Ⅲ．①语言学—研究—英汉对照　Ⅳ．①H0

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2014）第022029号

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These extracts taken from An Essay Concerning Human Understanding,
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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great non-fiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

约翰·洛克（John Locke，1632—1704），英国著名思想家、哲学家和著述家，经验主义代表人物，是全面系统地阐述宪政民主基本思想的第一位作家，在社会契约理论上作出重要贡献。洛克1632年生于萨默塞特郡（Somerset）威灵顿村，曾就读牛津大学基督教堂学院，后转攻医学，学成后成为沙夫茨伯里伯爵（辉格党创立人之一）私人医师，为辉格党重要思想领袖。1683年被怀疑涉嫌刺杀查理二世国王，逃至荷兰，1688年返回英格兰，整理书稿，并出版《人类理解论》、《政府论》、《论宽容》等著作，1704年病逝于艾塞克斯郡。

洛克最著名的作品《人类理解论》于1671年开始撰写，1690年得以出版，自首次出版到1700年已出版20个版本。在书中，洛克批评了宣称人生下来便带有内在思想的哲学理论，他主张人所经历过的感觉和经验才是形塑思想的主要来源。从哲学的继承性上看，洛克走的是弗兰西斯·培根和托马斯·霍布斯的路线，即知识起源于感觉和经验。书中涉及的思想对于伏尔泰等众多西方哲学家也产生了极大影响，在西方哲学史上起到承前启后的作用。由于他在这方面的理论，洛克可以被归类为经验主义者。

《论语言的滥用》截取《人类理解论》中精华而成，全书分为两大部分。第一部分介绍人类的观念。洛克认为观念来源为二，即感觉和反思。感觉来源于感官感受外部世界，而反思则来自于心灵观察本身。与理性主义者不同的是，洛克强调这两种观念是知识的唯一来源，并将观念划分为简单观念和复杂观念。简单观念可以被直接感知，而复杂观念只能融合许多简单观念提炼而出。此外，洛克还对人类常见的心理状态作出描述，并谈到观念的整零与正误。第二部分介绍语言的使用。洛克认为语言是观念的载体，因此语言的作用主要为记载和传播。语言是人类所造，用以表达观念，因此其中的缺陷不可避免。然而在语言的使用过程中，人们也会有意无意滥用语言，使世界上出现很多无谓的争吵和对抗。但洛克认为，如果人们加以注意，正确使用语言，便可大大减少交流中的误会和理解中的困难。在现如今这个网络语言满天飞的时代，本书可谓是校正自我用语，减少沟通障碍的助力。

论观念

观念通论及观念的起源

1．观念是思考的产物

每个人在思考时都能有所意识，思考便会产生观念。无疑，这些观念存在于人们的脑海中，一些可以用字词来表达，如“白、硬、甜、思、动、人、象、军、醉”，另一些则不能。那么我们首先要问，这些观念是如何产生的？我知道，人们普遍认为，人自落地那刻起，就带有观念和天性，这是与生俱来的。对于这个说法，我进行过仔细的研究，也解释了观念从何而来，以及这些观念通过何种方式以何种程度进入人的脑海。因此，对于观念和天性与生俱来的说法，我不敢苟同。我也希望每个人通过自身的观察和体验去验证我的这种说法。

2．观念由感觉和反思而来

我们假设人的头脑如同一张白纸，没有任何个性和观念，那么如何才能拥有个性和观念呢？人们无限的幻想所充斥的琳琅宝库从何而来？理性与知识的原料又从何而来？对此我一句话便可作答——从经验而来。我们的知识基于经验也源于经验。我们观察到的，要么是外部的可感物，要么是我们自身察觉和反思得来的内在心理活动。观察带给我们思考的原料，加强我们的理解。这便是知识的来源，我们固有的及习得的观念都源于此。

3．感觉的对象是观念的来源之一

第一，我们的感官在熟知一些特定的感知物之后，会通过多种方式，将几种对于事物不同的感知传递到我们的脑海中，因此我们就有了“黄、白、热、冷、软、硬、苦、甜”及其他一些观念，称为可感知性。我所说的传递到脑海的感觉，是指感官对于外部物体的感受。我们的观念大多源于感官，通过感官让我们理解。我把这称为“感觉”。

4．心理活动是观念的另一来源

第二，观念的第二个来源是我们的心理活动。心理活动也为我们提供观念，加强我们的理解。心理活动之所以是内在的，是因为它是我们的灵魂对已有观念的反思，而反思得来的观念是不能从外部事物上获得的。这些观念包括“知觉、思考、怀疑、相信、推理、认知、意愿”，以及我们头脑里的各种活动。对于这些活动，我们有所意识，并加以注意，从而形成自己的观念，进一步加强我们的理解。这和我们对外物的感知同理。这一来源是个性化的，虽然不是感官（因为无关于外物感知），但是形成却十分相似，因此可以称为内部感官。对于前一种，我称之为“感觉”，那么对于后一种，我就称之为“反思”，因为只有人们在反思时，才能形成以上观念。在本书以下的部分，我在提到“反思”时都是在指人们对内心活动的注意，因为只有对内心活动加以注意，才能形成有助于理解的观念。这两种来源，一则为外部原料，帮助人们形成感觉；一则为内心活动，促使人们进行反思。在我看来，观念只有这两种来源。我这里所提到的“活动”一词是广义上的，不仅可以理解为观念在头脑中的反应，也可以理解为由观念而引发的情感，如某想法带来的满足感或不安感。

5．所有观念均源于二者之一

在我看来，对任何观念的理解，哪怕只有一瞬，都是源于以上两种途径之一的。外部事物在我们的头脑中形成不同的感觉；我们的头脑又通过心理活动的加工促进理解。

全面研究一下两种途径及其模式、组合和关系就能发现，它们涵盖了我们的所有观念，我们头脑中的所有观念无一不是源于二者之一。你可以联系自身，仔细审视自己的理解，告诉我在你自身的观念中，有没有源于感官及反思以外的。不管你脑中有多么丰富的知识，仔细分析下来，就会发现所有观念都源于二者之一，只不过人们的理解把它们无限组合并放大了。这点我们之后也会谈到。

6．对儿童的观察

凡是仔细研究过初生儿的人都会认为，婴儿在坠地时是没有任何观念来帮助他们在今后形成知识的。儿童的观念是逐渐形成的。尽管很多观念显而易见，为人熟知，在他们记得时间和次序前就已经深植脑海，但是直到他们年龄稍长，开始拥有特定观念时，他们才记得幼时拥有过寻常观念，几乎每个人都是如此。如果想试验一下，可以强迫一个儿童保有很少的观念（即便是寻常观念）直至成年。然而儿童所处的世界有很多实体，这些实体以一种永恒且多变的方式影响着他们，不管他们愿不愿意，各种观念都印在了他们的脑海。只要睁着眼睛，光和颜色就随处可见；声音以及形状一直刺激着他们对应的感官，进入他们的头脑。但是，如果一个儿童被置于一个只有黑白的地方，就算他长至成年，也肯定不辨红绿。同样，如果他小时候没尝过牡蛎和菠萝，长大了也就不能区分这两种食物。

7．人们接触的事物不同，观念便不同

人们在外界接触到的事物种类越多，获得的观念就越多，反之亦然。同理，人们内心反思越多，获得的观念也越多。有时，尽管你十分关注自己的头脑活动，但得出的也只是简单清晰的观念。只有在当你专注研究某一领域时，才能只关注这一领域的相关内容，而非对所有内容都加以留意。这样你就能形成关于风景画的特定看法，或者更加了解钟表的零件和运作。而那些对什么都感兴趣的人，则很难做到这点。他也许每天都会看见这幅画或这个钟表，但是如果不加以思考，不考察各个部分，就只能对它们有一个模糊的概念。

8．反思得来的观念往往需要人们的注意，因此出现较晚

为什么儿童迟迟不能具有心理活动产生的观念呢？为什么有些人一生都没有清晰、完整的观念呢？因为，尽管他们不断形成一些观念，但是如果没有对之加以理解，进一步探究，形成思考的产物，那么这些观念只能是表面上的，就不能产生深刻的印象或在脑海中留下清晰、明了、经久的观念。新生的婴儿周围充满了新鲜的事物，不断刺激着他们的感官，吸引着他们的注意力。他们不断留意新事物，更喜欢变幻的花样。因此，儿童初生之年注意力都消耗在了外部事物上。可见人们在年幼时会努力熟悉外部事物，在成长的过程中更多留意的是外部感觉，很少审视自身的观念，直到成熟一些才进行反思。但是，有些人终其一生也未曾反思。

9．灵魂开始领悟时，才会产生观念

要问人的观念什么时候产生，就要问他什么时候开始领悟，因为观念无异于领悟。有人说灵魂总是在思考，只要灵魂存在，就会不断地领悟观念；还说灵魂必会思考，如同物体必有外延。如果这一说法是正确的，那么人们观念的起源就是灵魂的起源。这样说来，灵魂与其观念，物体与其外延就是同时存在的。

10．没有证据证明灵魂一直在思考

灵魂同生命的雏形究竟是一前一后还是同时出现，这个问题留给专业人士解答吧。我认为自己的灵魂是迟钝的，因为我并不经常思考，我还认为思考的频率应该与物体运动的频率一致。在我看来，思考之于灵魂就如同运动之于物体，前者不是后者的本质，而是作用之一。因此，我们可以认为灵魂能够思考，但不能认为灵魂必须一直思考。不眠不休的造物者也许一直在思考，但这对正常人来说，是不可能的。我们的经验告诉我们一个不争的事实：我们身体的某个部分有思考的能力。但是经验没有告诉我们，这个部分能不能不停思考。所以，说思考对灵魂来说必不可少、密不可分，正如不进行推理（必要的步骤）就要得出一个问题（并非不言自明）的答案一样。乍一听上去，每个人都认为“灵魂一直在思考”不言自明，但究竟是否如此，还需要大家去验证。比如我昨晚是不是彻夜思考，就是未知的。因此，我们如果把所争论的事情作为假设的论据，来证明这个问题，就犯了窃取论点之过。正如假设所有在走的表都在思考，认为这已经得到了充分的验证，就认为我的表走了一夜，也思考了一夜一样。但是不愿自欺的人应该将自己的假设建立在事实之上，并通过合理的经验验证，而不应将自己的假设当作事实。回到我彻夜思考的问题上，就等于不管我自己是否感觉到自己在思考，只因为有人假设我在思考，就得出我是彻夜思考的这样一个结论。

固执己见的人不仅会把不确定的事说成真的，甚至会把错的也说成对的。是不是有人会通过我的话推出，只要我们在睡梦中感觉不到某物，就证明它不存在？我不是因为在睡梦中感觉不到灵魂，就否认它的存在，而是认为，不管是睡着还是醒着，只要在思考，就会有感觉。这并不针对所有事物，但对于我们的思维，只要我们在思考，就一定会有感觉，除非哪天我们能在意识不到的情况下思考。

11．灵魂不能随时意识到自身

我承认，醒着的人每时每刻都在思考，因为醒着就是指能思考。至于无梦的睡眠是否是身心合一的整个人的一种状况，则值得醒者思考。很难想象，一个事物可以思考，却意识不到。如果一个熟睡的人，他的灵魂是在思考的，自己却没有意识，那我就要问，这个思考过程中有没有愉悦或痛苦，能否感受幸福与不幸？我相信，他和他身下的床或那块土地一样，肯定感受不到。因为，既要感到幸福或不幸，又意识不到，在我看来是完全矛盾的，也是不可能的。如果一个人的灵魂可以在身体熟睡时去思考、享受，或是关注愉悦或痛苦，而他却意识不到，也不参与其中，那么醒着的苏格拉底和熟睡的苏格拉底必然不同。因此，他就成了两重的：一重是他熟睡时的灵魂，另一重是醒时身心合一的苏格拉底（Socrates）其人。因为醒着的苏格拉底并不知道也不关心熟睡时灵魂独自享受的幸福与承担的不幸，正如他不关心一个不认识的印度人的死活。如果我们完全意识不到自己的行动和感觉，特别是各种快乐和痛苦，以及由此产生的顾虑，就很难定位自我。

12．如果熟睡的人能在不自知的情况下思考，那么熟睡的他与醒着的他便是两个人

有些人说，灵魂在熟睡时也能思考。因此，在它思考与感悟时自然可以感受高兴、苦恼和其他情绪，而且灵魂自身肯定也能意识到这些感受。但是这种说法并不全面，显然，熟睡的人是意识不到这些感受的。假设卡斯特（Castor）睡着后灵魂出窍（这在这些人看来不无可能，因为他们认为其他动物虽无思考的灵魂，但也有生命。因此，他们也必须承认，身体离了灵魂照样可以生活，正如灵魂离了身体依然可以存在、思考，并感受幸福与不幸）、独立思考；又假设，他的灵魂可以自行选择思考的地点——另一个人的身体，比如波利克斯（Pollux），他也在沉睡中，同样没有灵魂。这个地点是可行的，因为卡斯特的灵魂既然可以在他睡觉时思考，卡斯特又意识不到，那么思考在任何地点都能进行。这样我们就有一个灵魂在两个人的身体间来回移动。我们假设这两个身体一睡一醒，互相交替。这样灵魂就在醒着的人身体中思考，而睡者对它所想的，全无意识、全无知觉。那么，卡斯特和波利克斯，既然共用一个灵魂，而一个的所知所感另一个浑然不觉，那么他们是两个独立的人吗？就像卡斯特和赫尔克里士（Hercules），苏格拉底和柏拉图（Plato）？会不会一人很幸福，另一人很不幸呢？如果二者独立，那么既然灵魂离开身体独自思考，而身体却没有意识，那么灵魂和身体也被分成两个个体了。这是不可能的，因为没有人会认为，人的同一性是由于灵魂与不变分子结合所致。如果分子不变是同一性的必要条件，那么由于我们身体中的分子每时每刻都在变化，每个人在前后两日或前后两时都不可能同一了。

13．很难让那些睡觉不做梦的人相信，他们是思考的

因此，我想，每一次打盹儿都能动摇他们的理论，即灵魂每时每刻都在思考。至少很难让那些睡觉不做梦的人相信，他们在睡着的几个小时里是在思考的，只是没有意识到。就算我们把睡梦中的他们叫醒，他们也说不出自己在想什么。

14．要说人在梦中是思考的，只是不能记得，也是站不住脚的

也许有的人会说，就算人在熟睡，灵魂也是在思考的，只不过没有在记忆里存留。人在睡着的时候可能在不停地思考，醒了之后却可能一丁点儿都不记得。这种说法也很难让人相信，需要证据证明，不能空口无凭。谁能干脆地说，大部分人的一生当中，在睡梦中被人叫醒，会不记得自己在想什么。我认为，大部分人在睡觉时都不会做梦。我曾经遇到一位记忆力颇好的学者，他一向不曾做梦，只有在他高烧刚退才开始做梦，可是那时候，他已经二十五六岁了。我相信世界上还有很多这样的例子，至少每个人都认识几个睡觉不做梦的人。

15．基于这一假设，睡者的思想一定是很合理的

如果我们经常思考，却没有一刻记得，就是无效思考。这样的思考如同镜子，很多图画和想法出现其中，却无一保留。它们消失不见，不曾留下任何印记。所以镜子就算有了这些观念也好不了多少，正如灵魂有了这种观念也好不了多少一样。也许有人会说，醒着的时候，思考涉及了人身，这样对观念的记忆就留在脑海中，留下了思考过的痕迹；但是，人在熟睡时，灵魂是独立于人身进行思考的，并没有涉及身体的各个器官，所以就不会记得思考过。不过要如此假设，就不得不荒谬地承认有二重人格；这一层我已经说过了，就不再提。就算假设二重性是存在的，假如灵魂可以在没有人身的帮助下进行思考，那么也能不靠人身保留住这些观念，不然灵魂或任何独立的精神进行思考就毫无用处了。如果灵魂不记得思考过什么，不能存留以备后用，不能在需要时回想起来，回忆不出之前的观念，不去利用之前的经验、推理和深思，那么思考的意义又是什么呢？这样说来，这些认为灵魂可以独立思考的人并没有提高灵魂的地位，同那些他们所谴责的，认为灵魂只是物质中一个微小部分的人没什么两样。随风而去的尘上字迹，在一堆原子上或动物的元气上印的印记，都是有用的，都可以使其主体高贵起来，正如转瞬即逝的灵魂之思，一旦离开视线，就永远消失了，不留一丝记忆。自然不造无用的精良之物。很难想象，我们全知的造物者赋予我们思考的能力，如此绝妙，几乎同她自身一般不可思议，竟是徒然与无用的，使我们一生中至少四分之一的思考毫无意义。审视一下就会发现，就连宇宙中随处可见的无知觉的物质运动，也不至于那样无用，甚至完全白费。

16．基于这一假设，灵魂必有观念源于感觉和反思之外，只不过不得而见

无疑，也有例子证明，在睡觉时所得的观念是可以存留的。不过，对于那些熟悉梦境的人来说，不用我们告知，他们就自然知道这些观念是多么的狂放、松散，多么的残缺不全，条理紊乱。我很想知道，灵魂独立思考时是否没有在人体中思考合理。如果独立思考更不合理，这些人会说灵魂只有在人体中思考才能得出完整的、理性的观念。如果独立思考是合理的，为什么我们的梦境大多是破碎的、不合理的呢？为什么我们的灵魂没有存留下那些更合理的独语与冥思呢？

17．如果我只思考，而却不知道思考的内容，则他人更不可能知道

我希望那些有把握说“灵魂每时每刻都在思考”的人告诉我们，儿童在没有依赖感官获得任何观念时，在其灵魂与身体结合之前，或正在结合那一刻，他们的观念是什么。我想，梦境均是白天所思，只不过大部分都是胡乱拼凑而来的。奇怪的是，如果灵魂有自己的观念，而非从感官和反思而来（观念必然源于这两个途径，除非此前身体就有一定印记），那么为什么私下思考（私下程度之大，以至于当事人都没有察觉）过后一点都不能记起，之后也没有因新发现而欣喜。如果观念不止源于感觉或反思，那么人在睡眠时，灵魂退出肉体思考长达数小时，而在如此长的时间里，观念却没有一点来自感觉或反思以外的途径，这是不合常理的。奇怪的是，在人的一生当中，灵魂从未记起自身形成的观念，也就是并非来自于人身的观念；而在人们醒着的时候，所有观念也都是由灵魂和肉体结合而生的。如果灵魂每时每刻都在思考，在与肉体结合之前或在从肉体处获得一些观念之前已形成自己的观念，就必须说，只有在睡着时，它才能记起自身的观点，只有当灵魂退出肉体独自思考时，形成的观念才是自然的、同质的，而非源于肉体的。既然人在醒了之后不再记得熟睡时的所思所想，那么从上面的假设中我们只能得出，要么灵魂能记得肉体所不能的，要么记忆只能保留源于肉体的观念，或是有关这些观念的心理活动。

18．人们如何知道灵魂在不停地思考呢？既然这不是一个自明命题，就需要证据来证明

我很想知道，那些自信地宣称“灵魂在不停地思考”的人是怎么知道的。在他们自己都感受不到的情况下，他们怎么知道自己在思考？恐怕他们的言论是在没有证据的情况下发表的，并没有真正去感知。只是用一个混淆的概念去支持这个假设，而真正的真理，不是不言自明，就是可以用常识证明。在这方面，他们顶多可以说“灵魂是在不停地思考的，只是记忆没有保留罢了。”但我认为，更可能的情况是，灵魂并不是每时每刻都在思考的；它思考的时间还没有不思考的时间长，甚至思考后的很长时间都意识不到曾经有所思考。

19．一个人不可能此刻还在思考，下一刻就忘了思考内容

要说灵魂可以思考，而人体本身不能，就等于说一个人拥有两个人格，这点我们已经讨论过。如果仔细考究一下这个说法，就会怀疑其正确性。因为，就我所知，这些声称灵魂每时每刻都在思考的人并没有说，人体也一直在思考。灵魂在思考，而人体却没有；抑或是人一直在思考却没有意识，这可能吗？也许这在别人看来简直是在胡说八道。要说人体一直在思考，只是没有意识，就等于说人体在缺少四肢的情况下可以延伸一样。顺着这个逻辑，可以推出一个人一直很饿，却感觉不到饥饿感。饥饿只在饥饿感中有所体现，正如只有在意识到时才能称之为思考。如果他们说，有人能一直意识到自己在思考，那么我要问，他们是怎么知道的呢？意识只有当事人自身才能察觉。如果我觉得自己意识不到某物，那谁又能说我能意识得到呢？任何人的知识都没有经验多。比如叫醒一个熟睡中的人，问问他醒前那刻在想什么，如果他不记得自己刚才在想什么，那么告诉他答案的人一定是先知。那为什么不干脆告诉他，他刚才并没有在睡觉呢？这着实超越了哲学范畴，既然我并未觉察到自己的观念，那么定是神启将我的观念告诉别人的。如果我本身都觉不到自己在思考，并且断言自己不曾思考，可是他们却能分明得知我的观念，那么他们一定洞见力极强。可是在狗或象表示出一切能思考的象征以后，那些人却仍然说它们是不能思考的。也许有人认为这超越了红十字架（Rosecrucians），因为将自己的观念隐藏起来不为人所知似乎更为容易，而洞察他人自身尚不可知的观念则更难。但也不能仅仅把灵魂定义为一个能思考的实体。如果这个定义是正确的（虽然我不这么认为），那么很多人都会怀疑自己是不是真的有灵魂，因为他们生命中的大半都是在没有思考中度过的。就我所知，任何定义或假设都不够有力到足以驳倒恒常的经验。也许是因为人们喜欢知道意识不到的事，所以世界上才有了这么多无用的争端和谣传吧。

20．从对儿童的观察得知，所有的观念都源于感官或反思

我不相信，在感官给灵魂提供观念之前，灵魂就能思考。随着这些观念的积累与保留，人们才能在实际运用中提高思考能力，此后才能将观念整合，反思自己的心理活动，进一步积累观念，锻炼记忆、想象、推理与其他思考能力。

21．人如果愿意通过观察和经验得到知识，而不把自己的假设当作自然规律，会发现新生儿并不曾有多少思考，更别说推理了。但理性的灵魂通常不会思考过多而不去推理。初生的婴儿大部分时间都在睡梦中度过，饿了、疼了或是有其他强烈的感觉时，才会有所知觉，加以关注。如果看到这一层，就会认为母亲腹中的婴儿同植物无异，大部分时间都没有知觉，除了睡觉别无他作，也不需要寻找事物，因为他们周围满是轻柔的恒温的液体。他们可目不见光，耳不听声，其余的感官也不用感知其他纷杂。

22．自儿童诞生那日起，便开始观察记录时间在他身上留下的痕迹。你会发现，由于感官的作用，他脑海中的观念越来越多，他也越来越清醒，思考得也越多。一段时间以后，他开始熟悉周围的事物，会对那些最熟悉的留下深刻的印象。这样，他逐渐认识同他交流的人，把这些人同陌生人区别开来。这也证明了他慢慢将通过感官得来的观念加以保留和区别。头脑就这样通过推理与反思，逐渐扩展、组合这些观念并将这些观念抽象化，从而增加自身的观点。我稍后还会提到这一点。

23．如果有人问，人是从什么时候开始有观念的呢？我想，答案是，当他最初有感觉时，他就有了观念。既然在感官传输观念之前，头脑中都是没有观念的，那么当人有了感觉时，也就有了观念。因为感觉就是身体的某个部分有一定的印象或动作，从而产生一定的知觉。当我们的感官对外部事物有印象时，头脑才开始感知、记忆、考虑及推理。

24．一切知识的来源

有时我们会反思自己的心理活动，反思那些由感官得来的观念，并对之加以保存，形成新的观念，我们将这称为“反思”。这些观念并不是我们的感官对外部事物的印象，并不是头脑所固有的。这些心理活动，由人自身产生，当人们开始反思的时候，它们也就成了反思的对象，也就是所有知识的起源。对于人类来说，最大的能力就是头脑可以接收观念，包括感官对外部事物产生的观念以及自身在反思这些观念时形成的新观念。这是人类探索世界的第一步，他后来自然而然所形成的一切观念，也是建立在这个基础上的。那些高入云霄，直达天际的深奥的思想也是基于此的。人的思考虽然玄妙，但头脑所想莫不是源于基本的观念，源于感官和反思。

25．在接受简单观念时，理解大部分是被动的

在简单观念阶段，理解都是被动的，是否需要这些简单观念作为知识的原料不是我们能决定的。因为，不管我们愿不愿意，我们感官感受的对象中大部分都会将与之有关的观念印在我们的脑海中。而我们的心理活动也一定会让我们多少留下一丝关于它们的概念。当一个人在思考时，不可能完全没有意识。当头脑在接受这些简单观念时，理解是不能拒绝的，也不能改变或重造，就像镜子不能拒绝、改变或抹去它所成的像。因为我们周围的物体以各种方式刺激着我们的感官，所以头脑就要被迫接受一些印象，与之相关的观念也就不能避免了。

简单观念

1．单纯的现象

要了解我们知识的本质、方式和限度，必须仔细研究我们的观念，既包括简单观念也包括复杂观念。

刺激我们感官的各种性质本身是混合的，没有分割没有距离。但我们分明看到，这些通过感官得来的性质在脑海中形成的观念确实是简单而单纯的。尽管视觉和触觉同时来自于同一个物体，但是却可以产生不同的观念。比如一根蜡烛，视觉上可以看到它在跳动，能看到它的颜色，但是触觉上能感到它的柔软和温暖。这些简单观念都系于同一物体，却又彼此不同，就如不同感官产生的观念般分明。冰块给人又凉又硬的感觉，正如百合纯白带香，如糖之甘甜，玫瑰之芬芳。人对这些简单观念的认知是最清晰的。因为每一个观念本身都单纯而不复杂，现象和脑海中形成的概念始终如一，不会同其他观念混淆。

2．头脑不能制造或销毁简单观念

这些简单观念是我们知识的原料，通过我们之前提到的感官和反思传输到我们的大脑中。一旦大脑对这些简单观念有了理解，就可以近乎无限地重复、对比和组合，也会产生很多复杂的观念。就连智慧非凡或理解力极强的人，就算思维敏捷多样，也不可能避开上面两种方式创造或形成新的简单观念。此外，理解力也不能销毁已有的简单观念。人类的统治，不管是在自己的小世界里摆弄自己的思想，还是在大千世界里处理有形的事物，都大同小异。不论他有什么奇招妙法，力之所及亦只是对手中那些现成材料加加减减，不能创造一丝一毫，也无法销毁一点一滴。同样，每个人也不能从感官（源于外物）和反思（源于心理活动）以外的来源获取任何简单观念。我想没有人能品尝到味觉不能分辨的味道，也没有人能闻到鼻子不能嗅出的气味。如果有人能做到，我想这无异于证明了盲人可以识别颜色，聋子可以分辨声响。

3．因此，尽管我们都觉得除了上帝赋予我们的五种感官（人们常认为五种），不可能造出其他的感官了。我也认为，除了声音、味道、气味和其他可见可触的性质外，无论构成如何，物体中也不会再有其他性质了。如果人生而只有四种感官，那么我们应该不会想象或注意到第五种，就像我们现在有五种感官，就注意不到第六种，甚至第七种、第八种。在这无垠的宇宙当中，或许其他地方的生物有着其他的感官，这点猜测是我们不能否认的。人类不能妄自尊大，应该考虑世界的无限，并发现在自己所在之处也有无限精彩，这样也许就会认为，在宇宙的他处，也许会有未知的他类智能。我们无从了解，正如抽屉或者柜子里的小虫不能像人一样去感觉和理解。这正凸显了造物者的智慧。这里我遵从惯例，认为人有五种感官，也许不止五种，但这两种说法都能证明我的观点。

复杂观念

1．复杂观念是头脑对简单观念的加工

上面我们也谈到了，头脑在接收由感官和反思得来的简单观念时是被动的，头脑也不能创造这些观念，它所形成的所有观念全部由这些简单观念构成。然而，虽然头脑在接收简单观念时是被动的，但也会发挥自己的能动性，将简单观念作为基础和原料，形成其他观念。能动性主要分为三类：1．将几个简单观念合并为一个复杂观念；2．将两个观念（简单或复杂）并列起来，同时观察，而不把它们合并为一；3．将某些观念同其他关联观念分别开来，也叫作“抽象”。这样就得到了概括性的观念。这些过程都显示了人的能力及作用，在物质世界与思想世界都并无二致。因为在这两个世界当中，人只能将原料合并、并列或完全分开，不能进行创造或将其摧毁。在我们讲复杂观念时，我们先来看第一种作用，在适当的时机再引入后两种。观察发现，简单观念是会组合的，所以头脑也可以将几个简单观念合并起来作为一个观念去思考。简单观念的合并不仅是因为外部物体将他们连在一起，还有头脑的作用。由简单观念组成的观念称为复杂观念，比如“美丽、感激、人、军队和宇宙。”这些观念都是由简单观念结合而成的，或是说由简单观念构成的复杂观念。而头脑更倾向于把这些组合起来的简单观念作为整体，赋予它们一个名称，再进行思考。

2．复杂观念自动形成

头脑可以通过重复和联合的能力，变更或增加观念，远比感官和反思得来的观念多得多。但说到底，这些观念还都是源于两种途径的简单观念。因为简单观念都由事物本身而来，头脑所获得的简单观念也仅限于此，不过也无异。同感觉性质有关的观念都源于感官，思考的对象也都源于本身。但是，在获得这些简单观念之后，不会仅仅去观察，而会将这些观念整合起来，形成新的复杂观念。这些联合而成的复杂观念，比头脑之前直接获得的任何观念都更紧密统一。

3．复杂观念不外乎情状、实体及关系

不管怎样组合或拆分，复杂观念的数量和种类总是无穷无尽的，充斥着人们的思想。但是我认为，它们总不外乎三大类：情状、实体及关系。

4．情状

首先，情状这种复杂观念不管再怎样组合都不可能自我生成，都依赖于一定的物体，比如“三角形、感激和谋杀”就是这样的例子。如果我这里用的“情状”一词同他处之意不同，请原谅。因为这个问题不可避免，这种情况下只能选用新词，或运用旧词的其他含义。我更倾向于选择第二种。

5．简单及复杂情状

情状有两种，应该区别对待。一类是单纯的变量，只是同样简单观念的叠加，没有混入其他简单观念，比如“十二、二十”。因为只涉及一种简单观念，我把这一类称为简单情状。另一类由不同种类的简单观念组合起来，形成一个复杂观念，比如“美丽”，涉及颜色、形态及是否能给观看者带来愉悦；“盗窃”，是否隐瞒了对某物的占有，是否征得了所有者的同意。这一类涉及很多种观念，我称之为复杂情状。

6．单一或集合实体

其次，一些实体观念是简单观念的组合，仅代表一些独立存在的特定事物。在这些事物中，那个假设的、含混的实体观念总是占据首要位置。就一个实体而言，我们有“灰白色的”这样一个简单观念，如果再附上几个条件，包括重量、硬度、延展性和熔性，就得到了“铅”。可以动的，有思想、会推理的人像就是“人”。另一些实体需要两类观念来定义，就单独存在的个体来说，我们有人和羊；就组合来看，便有了一群人和一群羊这样的集体概念。

7．关系

最后一种复杂观念是关系，由观念的对比得来。关系包括几种，这里不做展开。

8．最深奥的观念也源于这两种途径

如果我们追寻头脑思考的轨迹，仔细观察它是如何重复、增加及组合由感官和反思得来的简单观念的，我们将能获得更深层的结论。我相信，如果我们仔细留心观念的起源，就会发现就连那些最深奥的观念，不管它们看起来多么遥不可及，都是对源于感官和反思的观念的重复和组合。就连那些大而抽象的观念，如“空间、时间和无限”等都是如此。虽然看起来不好理解，但其起源都是感官或反思，都是我们的头脑运用最基本的功能，对简单观念的加工而来的。

关乎快乐和痛苦的情状

1．快乐与痛苦都是简单观念

在我们通过感官和反思得来的简单观念中，痛苦和快乐是十分重要的两个。因为，就我们自身来说，感觉有时单纯，有时伴随着苦乐。所以思想或头脑的知觉也是或单纯，或伴有苦乐喜忧。这些观念同其他简单观念一样，是不可名状、不可定义的。与通过感官获得简单观念一样，要获知这些观念，只能通过经验。因为，用善恶来定义它们，只是让我们了解它们，让我们反思自身的观念，反思善恶的多样给我们带来的影响，而我们对它们的应用和理解也是千差万别的。

2．善恶为何

要判断事物的善恶，只消看它给我们带来的是快乐还是痛苦。善，能给我们带来快乐或增加我们的快乐，消减我们的痛苦，也使我们获得善，保留善，去除恶。相反，恶，会产生痛苦，增加痛苦，消减我们的快乐，催生更多的恶，剥夺我们的善。要说苦乐，先要区分身体与心灵。但实际上，它们都是心灵的感触，或由身体的不适引起，或源于心中的想法。

3．善恶影响我们的情感

善恶，同它引起的苦乐，都是带动我们情感的铰链。如果我们对自身加以反思，观察苦乐善恶在我们心中的活动，看它们带来了什么心理变化和内在感觉，就能形成我们的情感。

4．喜爱

存在或不存在的事物给人带来的想法，使他在想起后感到愉悦，这种观念就是喜爱。一个人在秋天吃到葡萄，或春天吃不到葡萄时都称自己喜爱葡萄，是因为葡萄的味道使他愉悦。如果因为健康或身体的改变使他品尝不到葡萄的味道，他便不会再喜爱葡萄了。

5．憎恶

相反，存在或不存在的事物给人带来的想法，使他在想起后感到苦痛，这种观念就是憎恶。在这里我们不妨来思考一下各种情感观念是如何由苦乐的各种变化生成的。可以说，我们之所以对无生命无感知的个体产生爱和恨，是因为我们在使用它们时产生了愉悦和痛苦。而我们之所以对能够感知到幸福与不幸的个体产生爱和恨，通常是因为我们在考虑它们的状态或幸福时会感到不安或愉悦。因此，如果一个人的孩子或朋友的状态和幸福能让他感到愉悦，那么他就是爱他们的。这足以证明，我们的爱恨只是普通的快乐和苦痛（无论如何产生）引起的心中之感。

6．欲望

如果一个人在享受一件东西时感到喜悦，在它不见时感到不安，那么这种不安感就是欲望。欲望的大小要看这种不安感的强弱。这里，我们可以说，就算这种不安感不是人们勤奋与行动的唯一刺激，也称得上主要刺激。因为，不管一件东西有多么好，若人们没有在它不见时感到不悦或痛苦，就算没有它也很自得，就不会对它有欲望，不会想要得到它。如果只是单纯的想想，得不到也不会觉得不安，那么人们就不会采取有效大胆的行动去获得它，而只会想一想。如果获得的可能性不大，我们的不安感也会降低，那么欲望也会消失或减少。限于篇幅，这点我们就讲这么多。

7．欢乐

拥有或即将拥有一件东西给我们带来的喜悦，因为我们可以掌控它，随心所欲地使用它，这种喜悦之感就是欢乐。一个快饿死的人，在快领到救济金时，就算还没用上，已经很欢乐了。一位父亲在儿女幸福时会感到高兴，只要儿女幸福，他就拥有可以使他高兴的事，所以只要想一想，他就会感到愉悦。

8．忧伤

如果一件东西丢了，使我们不能多拥有它一刻，那么在想到它时，便会感到一种不安，这就是忧伤。除此以外，当我们感到一种不幸，也会忧伤。

9．希望

一个人在想到未来可能会拥有某件东西时产生的愉悦之感就是希望。

10．恐惧

一个人在想到未来可能会降临在自己头上的厄运时产生的不安之感就是恐惧。

11．失望

一个人在想得到而不能时，可能会觉得不安或痛苦，有时又感到平静或懒散，这种感觉就是失望。

12．愤怒

一个人在被伤害想报复时产生的不安情绪就是愤怒。

13．嫉妒

一个人在想到别人先于自己获得了一件自己想要的东西时产生的不安之感就是嫉妒。

14．什么情感是所有人都拥有的

最后两种情感——嫉妒和愤怒，并不是所有人都拥有的，因为这两种情感并不是由我们自身的痛苦和愉悦产生的，而是涉及我们本身和他人，有些人并不会鉴赏自己的价值，也不会报复，因此也不会嫉妒和愤怒。但我认为，其他那些由痛苦和愉悦产生的情绪是所有人都拥有的。比如在“喜爱、欲望、欢乐和希望”中我们可以品味愉悦；在“憎恶、恐惧和悲伤”中会体验痛苦。虽然看起来情感总是源于苦乐，或者说苦乐总是同这些情感如影随形，但归根结底所有的情感都由事物引起。因此，我们会恨那些给我们造成痛苦的东西（至少是有感觉、有意志的主体），因为它给我们造成的恐惧是持久的痛苦。但是我们不会喜爱每一件带给我们愉悦之感的东西，因为愉悦并没有痛苦那么刻骨铭心，而且这种愉悦之感，将来也不一定会再有。不过这点我们以后再讨论。

15．苦乐为何

我所谈到的苦与乐，愉悦与不安，不仅仅是身体上的，还有精神上的，不管它们源于称心的还是不称心的感觉或反思。

16．此外，在情感方面，痛苦的减少就等于愉悦的增多，同样，愉悦的消失或减少也是种痛苦。

17．羞耻

人们的情感也表现在身体上，并引起身体的变化。但是这些变化并不明显，所以也不是各类情感必须的部分。如果做了不体面的事，或降低别人对我们敬仰的事，我们就会产生一种不安感，这就是所谓的羞耻。人在羞耻时，通常会脸红。

18．举例说明情感源于感官和反思

不要误以为我在这章里描述了所有情感。情感的种类比我这里列出的多许多。而我上面列出的几类情感也应该进行更广泛、更准确的描述。我这里举的例子只是为了证明善恶会带来苦乐。或许我应该列举一些简单的例子来说明苦乐，比如饥渴引起的痛苦，以及吃喝可以去除痛苦，带来快乐；眼睛的干涩，悦耳的音乐；挑剔无理的强辩之苦，通情达理的交谈之乐以及有条不紊地研究发现真理之乐。但是上述的情感对我们来说更为重要，所以我列举它们，证明我们对于它们的观念由感官和反思而来。

充分观念和不充分观念

1．充分观念指能完全表现其原型的观念

我们的观念有些是充分的，有些是不充分的。充分观念完全表现了它所代表的原型；不充分观念仅表现了它所代表的原型的一部分。在这方面，我们看到：

2．简单观念全部为充分观念

首先，简单观念全部为充分观念。因为简单观念是物体的某些能力给我们造成的影响，是外力让它们给我们造成这样的感觉，所以这些观念必然和这些能力相对应、相契合，而且也符合外物的现实。比如，糖让我们觉得又白又甜，那么我们就相信糖有能力，给我们带来这些观念，否则我们就体会不到这些观念。每一种感觉都对应我们的感官，这样产生的观念是真实的（不是头脑臆想的，因为头脑本身没有产生简单观念的能力），只能是充分的，因为观念和产生它们的能力相对应。因此，所有简单观念都是充分的。其实，事物的名称通常并不源于它们使我们产生的观念，而是源于它们本身带有的观念。比如，我们在触碰到火时会感到疼痛，因此火就有这种能力让我们产生疼痛的观念。可是我们却常说火光、火热，因为我们认为光和热真是在火中存在的，并不以为它们是火的能力，我们把这种观念称为火的“性质”。但事实上，这些性质也是一些能力，能使我们产生观念，因此，当我说外物中的次等性质，或是说外物使我们产生的观念时，你们应该知道我所说的只是一种能力。我这么说完全是为顺应通俗概念，方便他人理解。不过这些说法所指的都只是外物使我们产生某种感觉或观念的一些能力。如果我们没有合适的器官来接收火在视觉和触觉上给我们带来的印象，头脑不能产生火和太阳带来的光和热的观念，就算太阳持续照耀，埃特纳火山（Mount Aetna）一直高喷，世界上也不会有光和热的概念，就像如果人没有触觉就不会有疼痛的概念一样。我们对凝固、延伸和其终止以及形体的动与静都有观念，不论世上有无物体来感觉它们，它们都是实实在在存在的。因此，我们应当研究的是物质真正的变体，正是这些变体产生了我们身体的各种感觉。不过这种研究不属于我们讨论的范围，因此，我就不详细展开了。下面我讲一讲，哪些复杂的观念是充分的，哪些是不充分的。

3．所有情状都是充分的

其次，我们关于情状的复杂观念，是我们头脑对简单观念的自觉组合，并未参照原型或现有样本，它们也都是充分的。因为它们不是实际存在的事物的样本，而是头脑形成的模型，使人们可以根据这些模型去将事物分类并命名，因此，它们不缺乏任何东西。每一个模型都有自身的观念集合，头脑将它们规划整理，并不会感到任何缺陷。如果我有一个观念，是一个图形，有三条边，相交于三个点，这两个条件就能让我有一个完整的观念，不再需要其他条件。头脑会认为这个观念是完整的，可以用“三角形”来表示。但是，我们对实体的观念却并非如此。因为，在模拟事物的真实情形，并且表示出它们的特性构成的结构时，并不能让自己形成的观念达到心理预期的那种完美程度，总觉得它们缺少一些应该具有的东西。所以，实体观念都是不充分的。不过，混杂的情状和关系是无迹可寻的模型，它们所代表的只是本身，因此也是充分的。比如，你预见到自己面临危险，毫无恐惧，泰然自若，而且能沉着地考虑应付的步骤，镇定地采取行动，不为危险所慑。如果你能想到这些情形，并且把这些观念合拢起来，你的心中一定会由此产生一个复杂观念。你设想的一系列步骤就是这个复杂观念本身，而且这个复杂观念包含的一切简单观念，也都是你心中所想，再无其他，因此这个复杂观念也是充分的。随后，你把这个观念藏在记忆中，命名“勇敢”，并向人表示这个观念。如果某种行动与这个观念相符，就称它是勇敢的。这样就有了一种标准，来衡量各种行动，并且冠以这种名称。这个观念既然本身就是模型，就必然是充分的，因为它并不与别的东西相参照，也不是由别的元素所形成的，只是依原创者的喜好和愿望而定。

4．若参照固定名称，情状就可能变得不充分

他人同你谈话之后学到“勇敢”一词，可能他对“勇敢”的定义与你不同，在使用这个词的时候，你们头脑里的观念也不同。此时，如果他自认为与你的观念相符，发音也一致，那么他的观念就很可能是错误的、不充分的。因为，在这种情况下，将别人的思考方式作为自己的思考方式，就如同将别人的说话方式作为自己文字和声音的模型一样，有所参照就会有所偏离，会导致观念的欠缺与不充分。在以某名称标记原观念（该名称原本代表的观念）及自己的观念（自以为与原观念相吻合）时，若自己的观念与原观念不完全一致，那么自己的观念就是错误的、不充分的。

5．因此，复杂情状观念在与他人的同名观念做比对时，可能出现偏差、错误、不充分。因为此时，它们的参照对象并非头脑设定的原型或模型。也只有此时，情状观念会出现错误、残缺或不充分。因此，在一切情状观念中，混杂情状观念最容易出现错误。不过这主要关乎表达得当与否，而非知识的正误。

6．若参照实质，则实体观念也是不充分的

第三，要谈一谈实体观念，我在上面也提到过，实体观念有两个参照对象：1．一类事物的实质；2．头脑对实际存在的外物的再现。这种再现要借助于外物的性质在人们心中所形成的观念来实现。不管是哪种，这些对原型的复制都是残缺的、不充分的。

首先，人们通常会给实体命名，让这些名称代表一类实质相同的事物。这些名称只代表人们脑中的观念，而观念往往参照事物的本质与原型。人们通常认为各种实体都有其本质，每种实体的个体本质都相同（如果接受了欧洲的教育，更容易这样认为）。这是不需证实的，如果有人不这样认为，反而会被认为是异类。这样，人们通常根据不同的本质，给不同的类别安上不同的名字。如果一个人自称为“人”，就是说自己有“人”的本质，如果你怀疑这一点，人们往往会见怪于你。但是如果你问起这本质究竟是什么，人们却又不知道。由此我们得出结论，他们脑中的观念，虽然参照本质，可是那些原型却不为人知，因此，那些观念必然不是充分的，毕竟观念并未反映原型。我上面也谈到了，复杂观念就是时常共存的简单观念的集合。但是这种复杂观念并不是任何实体的实质，否则物体的各种性质都会依靠于这个复杂观念，都可以由这个观念推出，我们也会知道观念与本质的联系。比如，从三条边围成的面积推出三角形的其他性质。但事实上，在我们的复杂实体观念中，并没有任何观念，可以为它们体现出的其他性质提供依托。人们认为“铁”有一定的颜色、重量和硬度，此外，“铁”还有一个性质，就是延展性。但是，这个性质同“铁”这个复杂观念并无必然联系。我们不能说“铁”的延展性依赖于它的颜色、重量与硬度，也不能说它的颜色、重量与硬度取决于它的延展性。但是，虽然我们不知道事物的本质是什么，却总把某些性质划为本质。比如，许多人断定，我手上戒指的原材料必须具备特定本质才是“黄金”。这一本质包括特定的颜色、重量、硬度、易熔性、形定性、接触水银后颜色变化等性质。我试着去探寻这一本质，却发现根本找不到。我力所能及的是顶多假设它仅是一种物体，而该物体的各种性质取决于它的本质或内部构成，这些性质包括形状、大小和组成。而我对于这些性质并没有清晰的认识，因此，我对本质也没有任何概念，而正是这本质决定了黄灿灿的、比同体积的物体重的、遇水银变色的物体为“黄金”。如果有人要说，决定事物性质的本质及内部构成并不是上面提到的形状、大小和组成，而是别的“特殊形式”，那我就更不能理解了。因为，对于前一种说法，就算我不知道事物的形状、大小和组成，不理解为什么上面描述的事物不是我用来削铅笔的东西，而非得是我手指上戴的东西，但至少我还能有所参照。但是，如果有人告诉我本质并非形状、大小和组成，而是所谓的“实体的形式”（我必须声明，对于“形式”这个词，除了它的读音，我一点概念都没有），那么这将对我了解事物的实质或构成毫无帮助。我不仅对这种特殊物质的实质一无所知，对其他自然物质的实质也一无所知。不仅我是如此，我相信，其他人也是如此，只要仔细审视一下他们的知识就能发现这点。

7．既然如此，当人们给我手指上的这块东西命名“黄金”时，他们难道不知道这是对拥有同样实质的一类东西进行命名吗？如果知道（看起来也确实如此），那么这一名称所指的必然是这类事物共有的实质，因此，人们所形成的观念也应该关于名称所代表的实质。不过，既然使用这个名称的人本身都不知道实质究竟是什么，那么他们的实体观念肯定是不充分的，因为我们原以为观念中包含事物的本质，实则不然。

8．如果把实体观念看作性质的集合，那么它们也是不充分的

第二，有的人认为，设定一些不可知的本质来区别各种实体是没用的，因此便忽略了这点，而试图把各种实体中共存的可感性质观念组合起来，以模拟各种实体。尽管这些人比上述那些人（他们认为实质是存在的，只是他们不知道）更接近于实体的真相，但就算他们想把实体的观念复制在心中，他们的观念也不是完全充分的；而且那些副本也不能精确地、充分地，把它们原型中所有的观念都包括进去。因为我们复杂观念的来源（即这些物体的性质和能力）是复杂多样的，而我们的复杂观念却不能如此包罗万象。显然，我们抽象的实体观念并不能包括事物本身共存的一切简单观念，因为人们很少把他们所知道的一切简单观念都放入复杂的实体观念中。他们想让事物名称意义尽量简明，所以在形成实体观念时，常常只采用其中的少数简单观念。然而，所采用的简单观念和那些未被采用的简单观念相比并无优越性，两种情况之下，我们的实体观念都是不足的、不充分的。形成复杂实体观念的那些简单观念，除了某些物体的形状和体积之外，通通都只是一些能力。这些能力是与其他实体相关联的，因此，我们永远不能保证自己知道某物体的所有能力。因为要想知道它的所有能力，必须以各种方式，让它和别的实体接触，看能发生什么变化。就某一实体而言，这都不能实现，更别说所有实体了。因此，我们不可能通过探究一个实体的所有性质来获得充分的观念。

9．任何人初次见到“黄金”时，都不能合理地从这块东西的体积和形状推断出它的本质和内部构成。因此，他对“黄金”的观念中，也不包括这些性质。他会率先把这种物体的特殊颜色和重量抽象出来，形成关于这种物体的复杂观念。不过这两种性质只是两种能力，一种能力以某种形式刺激我们的视觉，让我们产生黄色这一观念；另一种能力即可以抬高天平另一端的同体积物体。此外，还有易溶性及形定性，这是被动的能力，当火在黄金上施动时，黄金就会展现这两种特性。黄金在王水中还具有延展性和可溶性。这两种能力也是同其他实体的作用相关的，它改变了外形并且分解成不易察觉的部分。这些性质加起来通常使人们形成一个复杂观念，让我们推断出这种物质就是“黄金”。

10．只要你大致或具体思考过这个物体的性质，就不会怀疑，我们所谓的“黄金”，有无限种性质尚未包含在上述复杂观念之内。我想，更精准地研究过黄金的人所提出的性质能达到上述的十倍之多，而且这些性质都和黄金的颜色和重量一样，与内部构成密不可分。如果有人对于金属的知识更加丰富，也许能提出百倍之多的性质。但是，这些性质也许仅仅是黄金所有性质的千分之一。因为，实验过就知道，金属与不同物体发生反应产生的变化超乎我们的认知，甚至超乎我们的想象。只要想一下，就会发现我所说的是正确的。不说复杂的，只要看一下再简单不过的三角形，就能发现虽然数学家已经探索出了它的很多性质，但是还有更多有待发现。

11．综上所述，我们的复杂实体观念都是不完整、不充分的。对于不同的数学图形来说，我们可以把它们同其他图形对照，得出具体性质，但结论同样如此。比如，如果我们只了解椭圆形的几个性质，那么我们对椭圆形的观念将是十分不确定、不完整的。但反过来说，我们如果了解这个图形的本质，就会发现它的各种性质，并见证它是如何体现这些性质，如何与这些性质密不可分的。

12．简单观念是模本，而且是充分的

因此，头脑中有三种抽象观念，或者说名义上的本质。

第一，简单观念，即模本，是完全充分的。简单观念意在表达一种能力，即某种事物给我们带来某种感觉的能力，因此，某种感觉的出现，一定是某种能力的结果。我写字用的纸张，在日光下（普通意义上的日光）给我带来的感觉就是“白色的”，这就是头脑以外事物能力的结果，因为头脑本身并没有形成观念的能力，所以这一感觉仅仅是上述能力的结果。因此，简单观念都是真实的、充分的。我脑中形成的“白色的”感觉，是纸张能力的结果，这种感觉同纸张的能力相符，不然纸张的能力会让我形成其他观念。

13．实体观念虽然也是模本，却是不充分的

第二，复杂实体观念，虽然也是模本，却是不完全、不充分的。显然，即使头脑把任意物体中的简单观念都集合起来，也不能确保这些观念就是这一物体的全部。因为这些观念不涉及与其他物体的作用，不涉及其他物体给该物体带来的改变，或该物体给其他物体造成的改变，所以我们不能获取与该物完全相符的主动及被动的性质。因此，对于任何物体，我们都没有充分的复杂观念。退一步说，即便我们能在复杂观念中精确地把任何实体的所有第二性质（或能力）集合起来（或者已经精确地集合起来），也不能获知该物的本质。因为，我们所观察到的能力或性质并不是该物的本质，而是本质的体现，所以不管这些性质是什么，它们的集合都不是事物的本质。由此可见，我们的实体观念是不充分的。此外，人们既没有全面的实体观念，也不知道实体的本质究竟是什么。

14．情状观念和关系观念都是原型，都是充分的

第三，关于情状和关系的复杂观念都是原型，并不是副本，也不是追寻实体之迹而来，人们并没有期望它们和一个模型相吻合或精确地对应。它们是简单观念的集合，头脑将他们组合在一起，各集合中的内容正是头脑所想，因此，它们本身就是原型和本质。它们为这些情状而设，又存于这些情状，因此，只要这些情状存在，就会和这些复杂观念精准相合。因此，情状观念或关系观念都是充分的。

观念的正误

1．只有命题才分真假

按照用语搭配，真假只能形容命题，但是有时也用来定义观念。因为我们看到，人们在用字时，都很随便，都容易偏离它们严谨的、原本的意义。不过我仍觉得，我们在定义各种观念的正误时，常借以不言而喻的命题为基础。只要我们考察一下它们被定义为正误的具体场合，就能发现这点。在这些场合中，我们都能发现一些支持或否决它们的理由。因为我们的观念只是我们头脑中的现象或知觉，所以我们不能说它们本身是正是误，就像我们也不能就一件东西的名字判断正误一样。

2．哲学中的“正”通常内含默认命题

如果“正”是哲学范畴上的，那么观念和文字都可以为正，正如其他事物，存在即为正。不过即使在哲学意义下，也许我们谓之“正”的事物也不自觉地参照了我们的观念，并且以观念为“正”的标准。这种参照正是一个心理命题，只是我们不常注意它罢了。

3．如果我们只把观念当作头脑中的一种现象，则观念没有正误之分

但是我们这里探讨的“正”，并不是哲学意义上的，而是普通意义上的。那么，我们头脑中观念，都是一些知觉或现象，都不是错误的。我们头脑中关于人马兽的观念并没错，正如我们口里说的、纸上写的人马兽都没错一样。因为，正误源于心里或口头上的证实或证伪，所以除非我们的头脑证明或否定我们的观念，否则它们是不能被定义为“误”的。

4．观念若比对别物，则可分正误

当头脑中的观念同外物作对比后，便可判断正误。因为对比过后，头脑会默默判断观念同外物是否一致。判断得出的一致与否也决定了观念的正误。判断通常有如下几种：

5．人们通常会参照别人的观念、实体或判断的本质

第一，当头脑判断观念是否与他人的观念一致，有相同的命名时，观念就有了正误。比如，当头脑中关于正义、节制、宗教的观念，与他人关于这些词的观念相同，便会认为他们的观念是正确的。

第二，当头脑判断观念是否与实体一致时，观念就有了正误。因此，人和人马兽这两个观念是关于实体的，前者同实体相一致，后者不一致，则前者是真实存在的，后者是虚构的。

第三，当头脑将观念同物体的实质相对比时，因为物体的大部分性质都存于本质，如果观念和本质不一致，就是错误的。

6．人们为何要进行参照

头脑经常会不自觉地对观念作出判断。但是，如果我们仔细观察便会发现，这些判断多涉及抽象的复杂观念。因为，头脑的自然趋势是获取知识，如果只关注具体事物，则进程过慢，工作过多。所以，为了走捷径并且使各种观念更加全面，就要扩充知识的基础，第一步就是通过自己思考或同别人交谈，把知识打包分类，并合理地把从某一事物上获取的知识推广至同类事物，这样就在重要任务（获取知识）上有了长足的进步。这也就是我们总是把具体事项归在概括性的观念之下分门别类的原因。

7．如果我们仔细考察一下头脑的思考方式，再看一下它获取知识的方式，就能发现头脑获得观念后，不管是用于思考或是交谈，首先会把观念抽象化，给它命名，然后储存在记忆中，并认为观念包含着这类事物的本质，并且永远用这一名称标记它。因此，我们就会发现，当人们看到一个不认识的事物时，首先会问那是什么，问的也只是事物的名称，似乎知道了名称就认识了这类事物或了解了它们的本质。这是因为，人们在命名时就是依据本质来命名的，并且常假设这名称同本质相关。

8．头脑中的抽象观念介乎实体与其名称之间。我们的观念既包含了正确的知识又包含了妥善明了的表达。因此人们便想当然地认为，这些抽象的观念同他们所指称的实体是一致的，同它们常规语言命名也是一致的。因为，如果没有这两个一致，人们在自行思考时就会出现错误，在同别人交谈时也会毫无意义。

9．虽然简单观念与其他同名观念相对照可能为误，但它们为误的可能性最小

第一，如果用别人的同名观念来衡量我们自己观念的正误，那么两者均可为误。但是简单观念为误的可能性最小。因为，一个人通过自己的感官和每天的观察，很容易便可了解通用的各种名称所代表的那些简单观念。而且因为简单观念数量少，所以即使遇到疑问和错误，也能借助观念所寓托的事物进行更正。因此很少人把简单观念的名称弄错，把绿色说成红色，把苦说成甜。更少有人混淆不同的感官名词，把颜色说成味道。因此人们对于简单观念的命名往往相同。

10．由此来看，复杂情状观念最易出错

复杂情状观念最易出错，比复杂实体观念出错的可能性更大。因为实体（尤其是语言中的自成词而非外来词所指的实体）中有一些可感性质，把它们和其他实体区分开来，而且只要人们在说话时稍加留意，就不至于把相应的名称应用在不相干的实体上。但是复杂情状却不好界定，比如正义或残忍、自由或挥霍。所以，当我们把自己的观念同他人的同名观念作对比时，可能会发现自己的观念是错误的，而被我们命名为“正义”的观念，可能应该有其他的名称。

11．就算不是最易出错的，至少也更容易出错

与其他观念相比，不管我们的复杂情状观念是不是更容易与别人心中的同名观念不一致，至少可以确定，相较于其他观念，复杂情状观念更容易出错。比如，如果一个人对正义、感激或光荣的理解是错误的，只能因为他对这几个词的理解与别人不同，而别无他因。

12．复杂情状观念容易出错的原因

因为复杂情状的抽象观念是人们对简单观念的整合，所以每种物质的本质也是由人定下的，除了人们对它们的命名外没有其他标准。因此我们没有其他方式来界定和比照复杂情状观念，那些能正确应用这些名称的人心中的观念就是我们仅有的标准。所以我们观念的正误就要看能否同他们的观念相一致。观念名称的正误问题，我们就讨论到这里。

13．如果把实体作为参照，那么除了实体观念以外，我们的观念都是正确的

第二，如果参照实体，把实体作为观念正误的标准，那么除了复杂实体观念，其他观念都是正确的。

14．第一，在以下情况中，简单观念是正确的及其原因

第一，简单观念是我们凭借着与生俱来的能力所接受的一些知觉，而且这些知觉也是外界事物依照自身的能力，依“道”而生的（虽然我们不谙此道，但这道却合乎上帝的仁慈和智慧）。因此，这些观念的正确度就源于它们给我们带来的印象，又因这些印象必然符合外物的能力（否则我们也不会有相应的印象），所以这些简单观念即由这些能力产生，因此是正确的。此外，很多人认为简单观念就是事物本身，所以也不太可能出错。因为造物者凭借智慧，已经给它们做上标记加以区分，好让我们能把它们区分开来，选取自己需要的。所以，不论我们认为蓝色存在于紫罗兰中，还是我们心中虚构的，都不能变更这一简单观念的本质，即蓝色的产生是由于紫罗兰本身的组织质地对阳光的反射。正是由于这种不变的本质，使我们能够凭视觉把这种事物同其他事物区分开来，不论帮助我们区分的标记是紫罗兰中各部分的特殊组织，还是颜色本身。因此，不论是这种颜色，还是能让我们产生这一观念的特殊组织，我们都称为“蓝”。因为“蓝”只是一种区分标记，表示我们的双眼在紫罗兰中所见的颜色，至于“蓝”由何组成，我们就不得而知了。就算知道，对我们也没有用处。

15．每个人对蓝色的观念不尽相同也无妨

即使我们器官结构不同，导致不同人对同一事物的观念不同，比如一个人看紫罗兰得出的观念与另一人看金盏花得出的观念相同，我们的简单观念也不太容易出错。因为一个人不能透过另一个人的身体去看这些器官产生的印象是什么，所以也就不能将两者产生的观念进行比较，得出对错。只要含有紫罗兰的特质，就能使人产生“蓝色”的观念，只要含有金盏花的特质，就能使人产生“黄色”的观念。不管这两种表象究竟给他们带来什么印象，他们都结合现象，加以区别，取己所用。他们总可以同别人一样区别两种花产生的“蓝”、“黄”的表象和这两种颜色在脑中形成的观念。我猜想，任何事物给不同人带来的观念总是相近的。我有很多理由支持这一想法，但这不是我们现在谈论的问题，我就不赘述了。就算反对观点得以证实，也无益于我们知识的增加或生活的便捷，所以也就不用费力考察了。

16．第一，在以下情况中，简单观念是正确的及其原因

据前所述，若参照我们身边的外物，则简单观念均为正确的。因为我们所见的现象和脑中的知觉都由外物而来，通过我们的感官，让我们形成一定的印象。因此，我们对它们的印象同它们产生这些现象的能力是一一对应的。所以，这些观念不可能出错。“蓝”或“黄”，“甜”或“苦”，这些观念永远不会出错，因为这些观念都是对事物最真实的反映。也许名称的应用会出错，但是观念本身是不会出错的，比如一个不懂英文的人，把“紫”这个单词误说成“红”。

17．第二，情状也是正确的

第二，若复杂情状观念参照实体本质而形成，则不会出错。关于情状的复杂观念，并未参照自然之物，所以复杂观念所包括的，仅仅是关于这一情状的观念，别无其他。比如，某人有财产有权位，可以衣食无忧、生活安逸，但他却从不恣意吃穿挥霍。如果我看到他，那么我对他的行为所产生的观念，一定不会是错误的。因为我的观念只是对他行为的反映，无所谓正误。但是当我用“节俭”或“美德”来形容这一行为时，也许就是一个错误的观念。除非这一行为与“节俭”在言语适当的情况下所属的观念一致，且符合定善恶的法则。

18．第三，实体观念何时是错误的

第三，我们的复杂实体观念，虽然参照实体本身，但也可能出现错误。无疑，如果实体观念所代表的是不可知的本质，则观念必然是错误的。但是我们如果认为这些实体观念是人心中一些简单观念的集合，认为它们由事物中常存的简单观念集合而来，并且假设它们就是这些模型的副本，它们便成了错误的观念。1．当人们将现实生活中没有联系的简单观念加以组合时就成了错误观念。比如，马的形象和大小加上犬吠，三者无论怎么组合都没有联系，硬组合在一起就是关于马的错误观念。2．如果将原本结合的简单观念之一剔除，掺入另一个简单观念，形成的整体实体观念也是错误的。比如，黄金的性质有延展性、硬度、易熔性、一定重量和黄色，如果加上铅或铜的固定性就会形成错误的复杂观念。加上其他简单观念，比如绝对固定性，也是错误的。因为在这两种情况下，黄金这一复杂观念虽由简单观念组成，但这些简单观念却不能统一，所以这一复杂观念就是错误的。但是，如果去掉固定性这个条件，或者把这个条件与其他条件分开，那么这个复杂观念就是一个不充分、不完全的观念，而不是错误观念。因为，虽然这个观念包含的因素并不全面，但其他观念可以统一共存。

19．正误常伴随着确认与否决

尽管我已经从普通意义上讲了观念在何种情况下、基于何种基础上为正或误，但是如果我们仔细研究一下各个情况，就会发现我们所认为的正误都源于头脑对各个情况作出的判断。因为正误一定伴随确认或否决，这种确认或否决可能是明白表示出来的，也可能是隐含起来的，当标记同它们所代表的事物相吻合时则为正，否则，则为误。我们常用的标记就是观念或语言，形成心理命题或语言命题。若标记的分合同它们所代表事物的分合相一致，则为正，反之，则为误，这点我们将在之后讨论。

20．观念本身无所谓正误

我们不能仅仅依据观念是否同实体或他人的观念一致就判断一个观念的正误。因为，如果这些标记中的一切都在事物中存在，切切实实代表了这一事物，则观念不可能为误。但是，就算标记同现实中的事物不同，我们也不能断定它们就是错误的，因为它们可能原本就没有代表这些事物。不过，以下几种情况的确是错误的：

21．第一，当我们认为心中观念同他人相一致，但其实却不一致时，观念为误

第一，如果头脑形成一个观念，认为此观念与他人的同名观念相一致，或认为此观念与这名称所指的定义一致，但实际上却并非如此时，观念为误。这种情况在复杂情状观念中最为常见，但其他类别的观念也有此情况。

22．第二，当我们认为心中观念同实体一致，但其实却不一致时，观念为误

第二，如果一个复杂观念由一系列简单观念组成，并认为它与一类真实存在的事物一致，而自然中却并不存在这种事物，这种情况下，观念为误。比如，把黄金的颜色、熔性与固定性和锡的重量混合。

23．第三，当我们认为心中的观念充分，但其实却并不充分时，观念为误

第三，有时一个复杂观念包含很多简单观念，这些简单观念确实存在于很多类事物中，但是这一复杂观念的概括并不完全，所代表的事物中还有其他不可分割的元素，这时，这一复杂观念便不充分。比如，若将黄色、延展性、重量及熔性这几个元素组合，便推断出这是黄金这一复杂观念，却忽略了黄金必有的特定固定性及溶于王水的性质，那么得出的黄金这一复杂观念即不充分。

24．第四，若认为观念能代表本质，则观念为误

第四，如果一个复杂观念仅包含事物本质表现出的部分性质，而我们却认为这一复杂观念包含了它本质的全部，那么我们就犯了更大的错误。这些部分性质是该事物主动或被动与他物接触时表现出的性质，多为人们熟知，所以人们便形成了对该事物的复杂观念。与人们在尝试和检查后得到的性质相比，这些性质仍是少数；就算该事物方面的专家，了解的性质和事物真正的本质相比也是冰山一角。三角形的本质虽然较简单，仅包含少数观念，即三条边围成一个空间，但是这一本质所表现出的性质却数不胜数。所以，就算事物本质较简单，体现出的特征也是无穷无尽的。

25．观念何时为误

如果人们对身外的事物并无概念，但是通过自己设想，可能会形成一些观念（人们可以对这些观念随便命名），这些观念可能既不与事物的本质一致，也不与他人的观念一致，这时观念可能是错误的。但是，如果人们的观念仅仅是关于内心的事物，那么观念不可能出错。比如，如果我在人的身体和四肢上安上马的头和脖子，我所形成的这个观念因为只代表我内心的事物，所以不可能是错的。但是，如果我把它叫作“人”或“鞑靼”（Tartar），并且认为它代表外界的一种真实的存在，或认为它与他人的同名观念是相同的，那么我就错了。这种情况下的观念就是错误的，并不是说观念本身是错误的，错的是隐含的心理判断，即这一观念所指的就是与它一致的某事物。但是，如果我只是在心里设定这个观念，而不把它与某个实体或名称（即“人”或“鞑靼”）对应，而是自己给它命名，那么我就只是给它假设了一个名字，并不是我的判断或观念出错。

26．把这类观念称为正误更为合适

总体来说，当我们在思考自己的观念时，不管是参照他们名称的所指，还是参照实体，在看它们能否契合时，还是用正误来表示更为合适。如果有人非要用真假来表示，也无妨，毕竟这是个人自由。只不过我认为当观念中包含心理命题时这样表达更为合适。一个人心中的所有观念，就其本身来看并无错误，只有把不一致的部分堆到一起，形成的复杂观念才是错误的。其他一切观念本身都是正确的，而且我们关于它们的知识也都是正确的、真实的知识。但是如果我们把它们同某事物（它们的模型和原型）相对比，结果却不相符，那么它们就成了错误的。

论文字

文字或语言通论

1．人类生而能发清晰可辨之音

上帝造人为好交际之物，使其需要并倾向于与同类为伴；此外还赋其语言，用于交流，连接社会。人生而能发清晰可辨之音，谓之“文字”（words）。然而，这并不足以形成语言。因为鹦鹉等其他一些鸟类，在调教下也能发出清楚的声音，但是它们却不能使用语言。

2．文字是观念的符号

除了要有清晰可辨的声音之外，还要把这些声音作为内部观念的符号，代表头脑中的观念。只有这样，观念才能明于他人，得以传达。

3．文字需具概括性

然而上述两点性质并不能保证文字尽其功用。把声音作为观念的符号还不够，只有当这些符号能概括一类特定事物时，才能使语言尽其功用。因为，如果每种事物都需要特定文字表示自己的名称，那么文字的使用就会过于繁杂，失其功用。要去其繁杂，语言就要增加概括性词语，使特定文字可以代表一类特定事物。文字可以代表一类观念，这也是文字的优越之处。概括性的名称表达的观念也是概括性的，而某单一观念也有具体名称来对应。

4．除了用文字来代表观念，人们还用文字来表示简单或复杂观念存不存在。比如拉丁语中的无（Nihil），在英语中就是无知（ignorance）和无益（barrenness）。我们不能说否定词无关观念，这样它们就成了毫无意义的。实际上，它们关乎肯定词，只是肯定词的否定形式。

5．文字终归源自可感观念

只消看一下我们对于一般性可感观念的依赖，就能认识到我们各种概念和知识的起源。我们还应该看到，很多文字表达的观念及行为虽然并非感官，但也是源于感官的，也通过显而易见的可感观念转换为更加深奥的含义，用以代表那些感官所不能认知的观念，比如想象（imagine）、领会（apprehend）、理解（comprehend）、坚持（adhere）、猜想（conceive）、灌输（instil）、厌恶（disgust）、忧虑（disturbance）、宁静（tranquility）等等。这些词都源于可感事物，并适用于特定的思考形式。灵魂（spirit），最基本的意思是呼吸，天使（angel），原本的意思是使者。我确信，如果我们追本溯源便会发现，在所有语言当中，即便事物的名称并非代表可感物，它们也定是源于可感观念的。因此，我们可以猜想，最初创造语言的那些人心中所有的概念都是什么样的，它们源于何处。也可以猜想，自然在命名事物时，也在无意中暗示了人们，他们知识的来源和法则。因为，人们在命名他人所能感知的自身行为时，或在命名不为感官所察知的观念时，爱借用普通熟知的感觉观念，来使别人能感其所感，而表面无敏感变化。待这些行为的名称为人共知后，就能表示他们的心理活动，也能通过文字很好地描述他们的其他观念。因为这些观念仅包括外在可感观念及内在心理活动。我们上一章也谈到了，我们的观念仅源于外部可感物及内部可意识的心理活动。

6．分配

为了更好地理解语言在教育和知识方面的效用及力量，我们还要考虑以下几点：

一、在使用语言时，各种名称之应用。

二、既然所有的名称（除了固有名词）都是概括性的，并不代表单一特定事物，而是某种事物，那么随后我们应该考虑，这些种类中究竟包括什么？只有考察过后，我们才能正确使用文字，得出语言的天然优势及劣势，并在文字发生指称模糊不清时进行补救，避免不便。否则，我们就不能对知识进行清晰有序的讨论。因为知识关乎命题，通常为最普遍的命题，所以知识与文字的关联远远超乎人们的想象。

我们将在下一节进一步考察。

文字的缺陷

1．文字用以记载思想和交流思想

通过前节所述，我们很容易便可得出语言的缺陷，而且也由于文字含混不清的本质，导致这一缺陷不可避免。要看文字是否有缺陷，首先要看它们的功用和目的。因为文字的完善程度取决于是否能利用文字达到目的。文字有两大功用：

一、记载思想

二、交流思想

2．所有文字均可用于记载

首先，任何文字均可记载思想，帮助我们记忆，正如自说自话。如果说声音这种符号与观念本身没有任何必然联系，那么以此类推，我们也可以使用任意文字表达自己的观念。如果一直使用同一词语表达相同的观念，那么此时文字就没有缺陷。因为我们用这些文字表达了自己的意思，此时文字的使用就是正确的，无缺陷的。

3．用通俗的和专业的文字交流思想

第二，文字交流思想之功用，也分两层。

一是通俗用法，二是专业用法。

一、通俗用法涉及普通谈话和商业中所用的文字，通常关于日常事务和人们的生活琐事。

二、专业用法包括准确传达概念，用普遍的命题表达确信无疑的真理，使人们在寻求真理时有所依附，感到满意。

这两种用法区别甚大，后者比前者精准得多。下面我们将进行介绍。

4．文字的缺陷在于指称不定

在交流中，理解是语言的最终目标。不管是在通俗层面还是在专业层面，如果文字不能使听者心中激起与说者心中相同的观念，那么文字就没有达到这一目标。既然声音与我们的观念没有必然联系，而且它们的指称都是我们任意强加的，那么它们的含混不清和缺陷，多半是源于它们所代表的观念自身，而不是由于此声音比彼声音更能表示那些观念，因为所有声音同样完善。

所以，一些文字比另一些文字更含混不清，通常是它们所代表的观念的缘故。

5．文字缺陷的原因

文字本身没有意义，但是，如果我们要想和别人交流思想，进行交谈，就必须学习并记下文字背后的观念。但有时这并不容易，如：

一、文字表示的观念十分复杂，多由很多不同观念组成。

二、文字表示的观念同自然之物并无固定联系，也没有确定的标准对之进行修订和校正。

三、文字的意义需同一个鲜为人知的标准相参照。

四、文字的所指同事物的本质并不完全相同。

这些困难发生在可了解的文字意义方面。至于那些不可了解的文字意义，我们此处将略过。比如由于机能原因不能了解代表简单观念的名称，比如盲人对颜色名称没有概念，聋子对声音名称没有概念等。

在以上几种情况中，我们都能发现文字的缺陷。随后我将主要解释文字应用于各种观念时出现的缺陷。如果仔细考察，就会发现，复杂情状名称的含混和缺陷多由于前两种原因；实体名称的缺陷多由于后两种原因。

6．复杂情状名称含混不清多由于他们代表的观念过于复杂

首先，复杂情状名称的意义多含混不清。

原因一：它们表示的观念构成复杂。文字要达到交流的目的，必须在听者心中激起与说者心中相同的观念。缺少这点，人们只能以噪声相扰，不能达成对话交流的目的，即传达思想，沟通观念。但是，如果一个词语代表的观念过于复杂，经过了整合再整合，那么精确地形成并记下这一观念就是十分困难的，毫无改变地精准使用这一观念也是十分困难的。因此，很少有两个人对于复杂观念的命名所指完全相同（比如大部分品行名词）。因为就复杂观念本身来说，两个人都会持不同看法，而且同一人在过去和未来对复杂观念的看法也不相同。

7．第二，复杂情状名称没有标准

原因二：复杂情状缺少标准，不能进行修订和校正，因此它们多变化不定。它们多由人们随性组合，满足自身对话之用，满足自身观念。它们并不是对实际存在之物的描述，而是依照观念中的各种原型进行命名分类。起初创造欺骗（sham）、哄骗（wheedle）和戏弄（banter）等这些字的人，只是凭借自己的认识，把上述词语所能代表的观念都浓缩在这些词中。正如我们如今仍在向固有的语言中加入新的情状名称一样，过去的新词也是这样形成的。介于代表集合观念的名称是人们随意创造的，自然中没有对应的联合体，人们也没有一个标准去比对，所以这些名称大多意义不清。“谋杀”、“亵渎”究竟代表什么，永远不能从他们所表示的事物中得知。在“谋杀”和“亵渎”这样的复杂观念中，大部分意义都不能由动作本身、心中意图或与圣物的关系中得出，同外在可见的行动也并无联系。谋杀时唯一的可见动作就是扣动扳机，而这一动作同“谋杀”这一复杂观念的其他部分并无联系。这一动作和其他部分观念之所以能共同形成“谋杀”的意义，是由于人们硬把他们结合在一起，并没有依据特定规则和模式。正是由于没有规则对他们的观念进行核准，不同人对于这一集合的理解也不同，不同人赋予这一名称的意义也不同。

8．适当性并不足以补救文字的缺陷

确实，通俗用法或适当性原则可以提供些补救，确定语言的意义，这点不容否认。通俗用法可以在普通对话中规范文字的意思，但是谁都不能确认文字的准确含义，也不能决定它们和哪些观念对应。通俗用法并不足以适用于专业的对话，大多复杂观念名称在通俗用法中有很大改变余地，而且这些复杂观念名称即便用法适当，也可以表示不同观念。此外，我们也没有关于适当性的相关规定，所以对于字词的使用方式到底是不是得当，也经常出现争端。因此，显然，这种复杂观念名称多存在缺陷，指意多含混不清。即便双方都想要理解对方，也不能每次达成一致。比如，尽管人人都会说“荣誉”和“感恩”，但是即便在同一国家，人们说同种语言，对这两个词所代表的复杂集合观念理解也不同。

9．获知名称的方式也会导致意义含混不清

复杂情状名称的获知方式往往会使这些名称的意义更加含糊。儿童是怎样学习语言的呢？要让他们明白简单观念的名称或物体的名称，人们往往把名称代表的东西给他们看，这样他们就对这些东西有了观念。随后，再把代表事物的名称重复地说给他们听，比如“白、甜、奶、糖、猫、狗”。但是在复杂情状名称方面，尤其是其中最重要的品行名词，他们往往先学习相应的声音。如果要明白这些名称代表的复杂观念是什么，他们就要寻求他人解释，或靠自己观察（大多数情况是这样）。虽然他们想要知道这些品行名称精确的意思，但是在人们口中，这些名称往往是毫无意义的声音，就算有些意义，也大多松散不定，含混模糊。就连那些特别注意把观念表达清楚的人，在使用复杂观念名称来区别于其他名称时，也不能避免这种含混。不管是激烈的辩论还是日常的交谈，只要涉及“荣誉、信心、优雅、宗教和教堂”等等名称，人们总会有不同观点，这多是因为他们对这些名称的定义不同，在谈到这些词时他们心中的指称也不同。所以这些争论都是关于一个固定声音的意义。因此，我们看到，不管是人界还是神界，法律的解释总是无穷无尽，解释说明都源源不断。因此，人们总是在不断地限制、区分、调整这些品行词的意义。但是人们对这些名称的创造仍然无穷无尽。很多人，在第一次读圣经或法典时多满足于了解文本之意，但他们一味寻求解说，在看过解说后反而疑惑了，明白的地方也糊涂了。我并不是说注解是无用的，而是想要说明，复杂情状名称的意义本身就是不确定的，就连那些有意向、有能力利用语言表达思想的人也解释不清楚。

10．因此，古籍作家难免表意不明

显然，这些名称指称的不确定性使得不同国家历代作家也难免表意不清。因此，如果要了解这些名家运用自身思想完成的等身之作究竟原意为何，就需要我们特别留心，加以研习，运用智慧和判断力。不过我们在各种著作方面，不必全都过分追求其意，我们应该把重点放在包含真理和法律的那些书籍上，因为真理是我们所信仰的，法律是我们所服从的，稍有错误，稍有触犯，就会使我们陷于不利。至于别的作家，我们不必过于费心探求，因为他们所写的只是他们一家之言，因此，我们不必知道他们的观点，正如他们不必知道我们的观点一样。我们的福祸不取决于他们的著作，所以我们即使不知道他们的观念也无妨。因此，如果他们的著作用词不清，我们完全可以把它们束之高阁，这都由我们自己决定。

“如果你们本身不想让人理解，被忽略也实属应当。”

11．如果说复杂情状名称没有确定意义，是因为自然中没有真实存在的标准，使那些观念有所参照，有所校正，那么实体名称没有确定意义，就是因为相反的原因，因为实体名称代表的观念与实际存在的事物是相符的，在自然中也有相应的标准。就实体观念来说，我们不能像对待复杂情状观念那样自由组合观念，形成特定标记，并以此对事物进行分类和命名。我们必须服从自然，使我们的复杂观念符合实体，用事物本身来规范它们名称的意义，否则，我们的名称就不能成为它们的标记，也不能代表它们。在这方面，我们可以遵循一定的模式。不过，也正是由于这些模型，使得实体名称意义不明。因为这些实体观念要参照我们身外世界的标准，而我们要么根本不知道这些标准，要么知道的不全，所以实体观念的名称意义也是多变的。

12．首先，事物的名称会参照其本质，而本质是不得而知的

如上所述，在通俗用法中，事物的命名要参照两个因素。

第一，名称要能代表对应的事物。所以，名称的指称必须符合事物的实质构成，包括所有性质。但是这一构成，或称本质，是不为我们所知的。所以，不管我们赋予它什么声音，都不能十分准确。我们永远也不可能知道，真正应该被称为“马”或“锑”的事物是什么，因为本质永远不得而知，所以名称的意义也不完全。因此，按照这个假设，由于事物名称的标准不能得知，也就不能依据标准确认或调整名称的意义。

13．其次，事物的名称会参照共存的性质，而我们不能了解所有性质

第二，事物中存在的简单观念（即名称能直接表示出的），共存于多种事物中，它们是相关名称参照的标准，也是意义得以修改的标准。但是这些原型也不能消除意义的不确定性，因为这些共存于同一事物的简单观念数量很多，且每个都适于成为具体复杂观念的一部分，得到名称的直接反映。尽管每个人考察的对象相同，但实际上各自形成的观念却不同。所以，每个人使用的名称必然各不相同。这些组成复杂观念的简单性质无穷无尽，多为各种能力，同他物产生反应时会发生改变。如果你知道，活跃性高的金属在加热之后会发生很多种变化，在同其他物体发生化学反应后变化更丰富这个道理，就不会奇怪为什么在我们的能力范围之内不能悉知每种事物的全部性质。这些性质如此之多，多到人们不能确切地知道数量有多少。每个人会凭借自己的技能发现不同的性质，因此，每个人对同一事物的观念就会不同，在听到这一事物的名称时就会有多种不同指称。事物的复杂观念是由多个简单观念构成的，共存于自然之中，所以每个人都可以把自己发现的性质纳入他的复杂观念之中。比如黄金，有人认为黄金的性质包括颜色和重量，另一个人认为溶于王水是黄金的又一性质，还有人认为应该加上可熔性，又有人根据自己的经验或道听途说，提出还应该增加延展性和固定性。那么这些人里，究竟谁对“黄金”的概念最为正确？该由谁来决定呢？每个人参照的标准都源于自然，每个人都有理由认为自己提出的性质经过研究，符合“黄金”的指称，应纳入“黄金”原本的复杂观念。而没有经过仔细调查，就会忽略相关性质。自然中性质的结合是复杂观念中各简单观念结合的基础，因此各个性质和观念地位相同，没有哪个必须留下或哪个必须去除。因此，我们可以断言，虽然人们使用同一名称命名一个事物，但是他们形成的复杂观念却各有不同，而事物名称的意义也是不确定的。

14．此外，任一简单观念对应的各种性质都会同他物发生作用，有的能同多数事物发生作用，有的能同少数事物发生作用。既然如此，谁能决定，物体的性质组合中，哪些性质能得到名称的反映？谁又有权力决定，哪些明显且常见的性质应被排除？又应该加入哪些不易察觉的、特殊的性质？对这些问题的回答导致了事物名称意义的不确定性。在我们下面讨论专业用法时，就会看到，正是这种不确定性造成了犹疑、争辩和错误。

15．带有缺陷的文字可供通俗之用，但不能用于专业范畴

在日常对话中，往往由明显性质的表象决定事物的名称（比如在以种传代的各种事物方面，我们多半以它们的形状命名，对于别的事物，我们多以它们的颜色和其他可感性质命名），人们也能完全明白这些名称所指的是哪些事物，比如，人们清楚“黄金”和“苹果”指的是什么，也能把它们区分开来。不过在专业性的探讨和辩论中，虽然也应该确定一般性的真理，从前提推出结论，但是事物名称的表意却不能确定，更不易确定。比如，如果你认为“黄金”这一复杂观念包括可锻性（某种程度的固定性），就会相应作出推断并得出结论，认为“黄金”有此特征。但是，如果有人认为可锻性不是黄金的特征，那么他就永远不会承认也不会相信你的观点。

16．以液体为例

人们如果抛弃了纷乱粗疏的意念，进行严格缜密的考察，就不难发现，在一切语言中的事物名称方面，这种缺陷是很自然且难避免的。因为，此时他们会相信，许多文字的意义，在通常用法中似乎很清楚、很确定，可是实际上却含混不清。有一次，我同一伙聪明而博学的医生们在一块聚会，他们偶然谈到一个问题：是否有液体能穿过神经纤维？讨论进行了很长时间，双方各执一词，但我却希望，他们先考察确定“液体”一词的意义，再进行争辩。因为我常觉得，人们的争执不下大多困于文字的意义，而非对事物的不同认识。他们起初对我的提议有些惊讶，好在他们都很聪明，没有认为我的提议肤浅怪异。他们之所以惊讶是因为在座所有人都认为自己完全理解“液体”的含义，甚至连我也认为这个词没什么难理解的。但他们最终还是同意了我的提议。经过考察发现，这个词的表意并不如他们所想那般确定，每个人对“液体”都有自己的看法。这使他们意识到，两方辩论的结点在于“液体”的意义，而就某种流动柔软的物质可以穿过神经纤维这点却达成了一致。究竟这种流动柔软的物质应不应该被称为“液体”，大家在思考后都认为这点不值得争论。

17．以黄金为例

人们热烈的讨论，归根结底是以上这种情况，这一点在其他方面也可以看到。现在我们只消稍微仔细考察一下我们前面提到的例子——“黄金”，就能看到它的表意是很难确定的。我想大家都同意，黄金是一种金灿灿的物质。很多儿童都认为，只要是金灿灿的东西，就是黄金。所以，他们会认为孔雀尾巴上金黄金黄的那块就是黄金。又有人认为黄金应该具有可熔性，那些浴火成灰的金黄物质不是黄金。所以，“黄金”就是这样一种物质，有着金灿灿的外表，且浴火而化而非成灰。同样，还有人把重量加入这个观念中，这个性质和可熔性一样，同颜色紧密相连，也应当用那个名称来表示。因此，前面说的只有颜色和可熔性就是不完全的，其他部分性质也是如此。谁都说不清，介于这些性质都不可分割，系于自然，为什么有些应包括于本质之中，有些应排除在本质之外。代表戒指原材料的黄金，为什么颜色、重量和可熔性的组合能表示它的本质，而颜色、重量和溶于水的组合却不能呢？溶于王水这一性质同熔于火的性质一样，同本质密不可分，两种都是黄金本身可同外物发生作用的性质，这两种性质的差别只是在于外物对黄金的作用方式不同。那么凭什么可熔性可以成为黄金本质的一部分，而可溶性只是它的一种性质呢？又凭什么颜色是本质的一部分，而可锻性仅是一种性质呢？我在这里想要表达的是，上述各种性质都是依存于本质的，都会主动或被动同他物发生反应。因此，谁都不能决定“黄金”一词（参照自然中的实体）究竟表示这一组观念还是另一组观念。所以，这一名称的表意必然是不确定的。既然每个人对同一事物的观察都各有不同，而且又没有人能穷尽所有性质，那么我们对事物的描述只能是有缺陷的，而文字的表意也是不确定的。

18．简单观念名称最少含混

如前所述，简单观念名称最少含混，即便出现含混也能轻易察觉。原因如下：第一，这些名称代表的观念只关乎一种感觉，相较于那些复杂观念更容易理解，更容易记住，因此较少出现不确定的情况。而事物和混杂情状的复杂观念通常包括多个简单观念，并且人们对这些简单观念的集合还没有统一的看法，因此这些复杂观念更不容易记住。第二，简单观念名称不参照其他本质，只参照它们直接表示的那个感觉。而实体名称永远会参照其他本质，所以它们的意义含混不清，因此引发许多争辩。只要不过于执拗或存心找碴儿，在使用自己熟悉的语言时，人们很少弄错简单观念名称。比如，“白”、“甜”、“黄”、“苦”的意思都很明显，每个人都能理解，就算不理解，本身也能意识到自己不懂了，会寻求解答。但别人具体如何使用“谦虚”或者“节俭”这样的简单观念集合，就不得而知了。我们多认为自己知道“金”和“铁”代表什么，即使这样，究竟他人如何定义这些复杂观念，我们却不能确定。但有一点我能确信，即如果说者和听者对它们特性的定义并不相同，在谈论普遍论题，确定普遍真理，考察最终结果时，一旦使用它们，就会产生错误和争论。

19．简单情状名称也较少含混

同理，简单情状名称同简单观念名称一样，也很少含混。特别是涉及图形和数字时，人们尤为清楚。只要用心就不会搞混数字“七”和“三角形”。总的来说，在任何方面，最简单的观念一定有最明确的名称。

20．超复杂混杂情状和实体名称最含混

如果复杂情状是由少数明显的简单观念组成的，那么它们的名称意义就比较明确。而如果复杂情状包括很多简单观念，那么它们的名称意义往往含混不清。至于实体名称，如果它们的观念来源既不是事物的本质，也不是它们参照模型的精确表象，就会出现很大缺陷和不确定性。当涉及专业用法时，情况更甚。

21．为何将缺陷归咎于文字

事物名称方面的混乱多由于我们缺少知识，或是不能洞悉它们的本质。你也许会想，为什么我们把这些缺陷怪到文字头上，而不怪我们自己的理解力不够呢？这一异议很有道理，所以我有必要解释一下为什么我们总是把缺陷归咎于文字。知识和文字密切相关，只有考察过文字的力量和意义后，才能对知识进行清晰恰当的分析。知识有关真理，有关命题。知识纵然终归要落到事物上，但还要通过文字表达，因此，文字同我们的知识密不可分。文字在真理和我们的理解力之间架起一座桥梁，像是可视物体往来的媒介。而它们的含混又常常蒙住我们的双眼，误导我们的理解。只要仔细研究一下人们给自己和他人带来的谬论，看一下人们的争论和观念中出现的错误，就能发现，其中的大部分都源于文字及文字意义的不确定性。因此，我们完全可以相信，文字成为了我们获取知识道路上的绊脚石。我们必须注意到这点，因为人们还没有意识到文字给我们带来的不便，反而通过研究助长这一现象，甚至冠以研究这一学科的人博学精思的美誉。但是我认为，语言是获取知识的工具，如果能完全消除这些缺陷，世界上就会减少很多争论喧嚣，通往知识与和平的道路也会越来越宽。

22．因此我们在研究前人的作品时要保持谦虚

我确信，就所有语言来说，文字的意义都依赖于使用这种语言的人所拥有的思想和观念。因此，即使对于在同一国家使用同种语言的人们来说，文字的意义也是不确定的。这点在希腊作家中就可见一斑。只要稍作研究，就会发现他们虽然用着同样的文字，但是却自说自话，表意不同。这还仅是同一个国家在某段时间的状况，如果再跨时空呢？各家有各家的观念、脾气、习俗，形容词和修辞也各不相同，虽然我们不知道当时情况怎样，但这必然会影响当时文字的意义。因此在我们解释或误解前人之作时要互相谅解，因为，虽然我们应对这些作品加以研究，但是各语言不通造成的困难是不可避免的。如果说者不能在表达自己的意思和目的之前定义各种名词（简单观念名称和明显事物名称除外），那么听者就自然会犹疑不定。宗教、法律和品行是最为重要的话题，因此，这几方面的困难也最大。

23．各家对“新旧约”的解释和评论就是最直接的证据。尽管书中所写的内容极为真实，但是读者的理解却经常出现错误。这自不必惊讶，因为上帝的意志在披上文字的外衣后必然会含混不清。正如上帝之子在披上肉体的外衣后，也不得不经受人性的一切弱点一样（罪恶除外）。我们要赞美他的慈悲，感谢他把旨意用如此了然的方式表达出来，好让我们传播于世。他给人类带来了理智之光，使那些不曾见“上帝”这个词的人也确信上帝的存在（只要他们愿意去追寻），对上帝礼敬有加。自然宗教的箴言清楚明白，为全人类所了解，不为人所争执；而书籍和语言揭示的真理，通常会困于文字这一媒介，产生很多隐晦或困难。我认为，对于前者，我们应该仔细勤恳地研习；对于后者，我们也不应过于倨傲、绝对和专横。

文字的滥用

1．文字的滥用

语言本身固有一定的缺陷，使文字的使用出现含糊纷乱。但除此之外，人们在进行交流时，往往也会故意用错或有所忽略，导致这些符号更不明白，更不清晰。

2．第一，无观念字词，或日无清晰观念字词

第一，在这方面，最明显的滥用就是在使用文字时没有清晰明显的观念，或根本没有观念。主要有以下两种情况：

一、你可能会发现，在所有的语言当中，有些词不管是从起源看还是从使用看，都不能表示任何清晰明显的观念。这些词大多源于哲学和宗教派系。这些词的创造者，往往爱装作与众不同，不为常人理解，或支持一些奇特的观点，又或要遮掩自己假设中的弱点，因此他们会创造这些新字词。如果我们考察一下这些新字词，就会发现它们可以被称为“无意义的词汇”。这些词在发明之初就不代表任何观念，就算仔细考察一下，也会发现它们同观念并不一致。无疑，之后同派别的人在普遍使用这些词时，也只是单纯的使用声音，而没有任何意义。同派别的那些人认为嘴里说着这些词就已足够，完全可以同其他派别相区别，因此就不必费事考察这些字词代表什么观念。我就不举例了，因为大家在读书和交谈中会发现很多这样的现象。如果你想多要些例子，可以去问那些“无意义词汇的制造者”，也就是那些烦琐的学者和形而上学者（也包括后来的自然哲学家和观念哲学家），他们可以给你满意的答案。

3．二、还有一些人，滥用字词的情况更甚。他们不但不放弃那些起初就没有清晰观念的字词，反而经常在使用那些表示重要观念的字词时也表意不清。人们常常谈及“智慧”、“荣耀”、“恩惠”等词，但是如果问一问他们，这些词究竟是什么意思？他们就会傻眼，不知如何作答。这就证明，虽然他们知道这些声音，也能脱口而出，但却不知道这些词究竟是什么意思，也不能向别人解释。

4．这是因为，他们在了解观念之前先学习了它们的名称

从小到大，人们都习惯先学字词，再学字词代表的复杂观念或事物。人们往往不会费心去了解这些字词具体表示什么意思，而是用这些字词表示自己心中一些含混的观念，并且认为别人在使用这些字词的时候也拥有一样的观念，就好像这些字词的读音表意永恒不变似的。在日常生活中，为求对方了解起见，人们要在字词方面作些变通。但是，在讨论到自己的原则和利益时，这些无意义的文字显然会使他们的谈论充满假大空的论调。涉及品行字词时尤为如此，因为品行字词是大量任意观念的集合，并不是永远固定存在于自然中的，所以人们大多仅对它们的读音有概念，它们所表示的观念也很含糊。人们往往会使用周围人使用的字词，而且常常装出一副很自信的样子，避免别人看出他们根本不知道词义，但同时又不愿意费事了解这些字词真正的意义是什么。这样一来，他们不但可以随意使用这些字词，还可以享受另外一个优势，那就是虽然他们很少用对，但是也很少有人能说服他们，证明他们用错了。因为说服他们就等于让没有对错观念的人不要犯错，或剥夺一个没有住处的流浪汉的住宅。这是我的猜想，但事实究竟是否如此，大家可以从自身或他处观察得出。

5．第二，字词使用前后不一

第二，文字的另一种滥用，是使用时前后不一。我们常常看到，人们在描写一个话题时（特别是辩论中），同一个词（辩论的观念词）有时表示这些观念，有时表示那些观念。这是典型的滥用文字。我用文字代表自己的观念，再把这些文字告知他人，如果我时而让它们表示这个意思，时而让它们表示那个意思，我就在滥用文字，因为文字的意义并非其本身的意义，而是我强加给它的。这种任意的做法简直愚蠢，甚至是一种欺骗。一个人在对话或推理时，用同一字词表示不同简单观念集合，就像一个人在计算时，用同一数字表示不同单位集合一样。比如，用数字3表示3、4或8。真不知道谁会同这样算账的人来往！这样做的人会根据自己的利益，在做生意时把8算成7，或算成9，这样的愚蠢和欺骗人人都会生厌。但是在争辩和知识竞赛中，这种做法多被看作聪明和博学的表现。然而，我认为，这是更大的欺骗，因为真理比金钱更重要。

6．第三，字词的误用导致混淆

第三，把旧词用于新情况或不寻常的情况，或引入一些未定义的新词，又或把文字组合起来混淆原义时，这些都会带来含混，是语言的另一种滥用。逍遥学派这点最为明显，其他学派也有此现象发生。事实上，所有学派都会遇到一些困难（这也是人类知识的缺陷），因此他们会用含混的文字和意义来掩盖自己的不足，如在眼前蒙上一层迷雾。只要想想就能知道，通俗用法中，“主体”和“外延”是两个不同的观念。因为，如果它们的意义是相同的，那么我们不但可以说“外延的主体”，也可以说“主体的外延”，两种说法一样清楚适当。但有的人非得把两者的意义弄混。而且，各学派还以这种滥用，甚至文字、逻辑和通识学科的含混为荣。而辩论这种艺术，不但没有帮助我们辩明真理和知识，反而加剧了语言本身的缺陷。仔细研究这些学术著作的人会发现，其中涉及的字词比日常会话用语更晦涩，更含混，意义更不确定。

7．逻辑和辩论多导致文字的滥用

人们的角色和学识往往由他们的辩论技能决定。如果要在这方面设奖项，评奖方面包括文字使用的精巧准确，那么人们会在反对或辩护某一观点时极尽巧舌之能。胜利的标准不是真理归于何方，而是谁能辩到最后。

8．人们把巧舌善辩称为玄思

尽管这项技能并无用处，与追求真理背道而驰，但是还是被人们冠以“玄思”和“精妙”的美名，得到各学派的称颂和有识之士的推崇。怪不得当时的哲学家（我指的是那些爱争好辩的哲学家，如希腊作家卢西恩〈Lucian〉诙谐合理的讥讪）和学者要用古怪难解的复杂文字网来遮掩自己的无知。他们所追求的只是荣誉和尊重，旨在让他人知道自己学识渊博。真才实学难求，假装冒充易得，所以他们多使用难解的词汇，让别人赞叹。他们的用语越难懂，别人就会越膜拜他们。但纵观古今，这些“学识渊博”的人也没比别人更聪明、更有用。他们对人类的生活和当时的社会贡献微乎其微。因为，创造的新词没有新事物与之对应，混淆旧词的含义，使很多问题有所争议，对于人们的生活并无意义，也不值得赞赏和奖励。

9．这种学识无助于社会

尽管世界上有很多学识渊博的雄辩家和学究，但各国的和平、防御和自由却全仰赖不做学问的政治家，而艺术的发展也依靠那些没有文化、被人轻贱的手艺人。不过，这种装模作样的愚陋和学问渊博的妄语，近来却十分流行，这都是那些学究的利益和虚荣推动的，想要维护既得的权威和权力，最容易的方法就是用艰涩的文字调侃生意人和无知者，并且使聪明而无所事事之人忙着辩论毫无意义的词汇，让他们卷入无底的迷洞。此外，要想使人相信荒诞的教条，只能用一堆晦涩、含混而不确定的文字来保障它们。而这种保障，更像是强盗的窝点、狐狸的洞穴，而不像守卫战士的堡垒。这层保障不好攻破，不是因为他们本身武力高强，而是他们周围荆棘丛生，提供遮蔽。因为人们不能接受谬论，所以他们只能借晦涩艰深以自保。

10．不过这样却破坏了获取知识和沟通的工具

这种人看似有学识，实则为无知，让有求知欲的人也学不到真正的知识。而这种现象在世界上还普遍存在，看似启发理解，实则迷惑思维。我们也看到，虽然其他善意而聪明的人在教育和学术方面没有达到那种“造诣”，但他们也能正常地运用语言，良好地沟通，开发语言的真正效用。然而，虽然不做学问的人能充分了解白与黑这两个字，也知道这两个字代表的观念，但是还是有学究巧妙地证明雪是黑的，也就是证明白即黑。这样，他们就破坏了交流和教育的工具。他们所做的无非是混淆文字的意义，使语言更无用（语言本身的缺陷已然影响其效用）。不做学问之人是没有这种“本事”的。

11．这样做就等于混淆声音和字母

上述指白为黑的做法，同改变已知文字的意义一样，不能增益人们的理解，也无益于人们的生活；就算一个人学识精微，才能超群，在著作中以A代B，以D代E，以X代Y，让读者惊叹，但也是无益的。因为，要用黑这个字来表示另一个相反的观念，并且称雪为黑，就和以A代B是一样无意义；因为大家承认“黑”代表一种可感观念，“白”代表另一种可感观念。字母A代表语言器官运动后所产生的一种声音改变，而字母B代表另一种。

12．这种艺术让宗教和正义变得更加复杂

这种危害也出现在逻辑的细枝末节和好奇空洞的猜测当中，侵害了人们的生活和社会，使法律和神谕变得含混复杂，让人生百态变得混乱、无序和不定，使宗教和正义两大法则变得无用，甚至消失。大部分对人神法则的评论和争辩，除了让其意义更模糊，更复杂之外，还有什么用呢？反反复复区分，揪住细节不放，无非只能让字词更含糊不清，让读者更糊涂。为什么仆人更容易理解君主下的命令，不管以口头还是书面形式？为什么确立成法律之后臣民反而不解了呢？我前面也提到了，很多资质一般的人原本可以读懂一篇文章，或一条法律，但是在向专家或学会咨询后，反而觉得没有帮助。

13．这称不上学问

这里我不讨论上述做法是不是有什么附带利益，但是我想让大家想一想，人们是不是应该掌握事物的本质，做好该做的事；而不应该浪费时间谈论事物，卖弄文字；是不是应该直接明了地使用文字；我们使用语言是不是为了多学知识，联系社会；而不是遮掩真理，动摇人权，生烟起雾，模糊道德和宗教。至少，如果发生这类事，应该想一想这是不是学识和知识。

14．第四，把文字当作事物本身

第四，把文字当作事物本身也是对文字的滥用。从某种程度上说，这关乎所有名称，但实体名称最受影响。如果人们把自己的思想局限于一个体系，坚信传统的假设是完美无缺的，那么就容易发生这种滥用。他们会相信，这一学派的名称同事物完全对应，完全同事物的本质一致。自幼学习逍遥学派理论的人，都认为十大范畴的名称同事物的本质完全一致，他们都相信“实体形式”（substantial forms）、“植物的灵魂”（vegetative souls）、“憎恶虚空”（abhorrence of a vacuum）、“心理成像”（intentional species）等等是真实存在的。人们在初学知识时就接触了这些文字，并发现学派大师和体系都十分重视这些文字，所以他们自然而然认为，这些文字同自然相一致，代表了各真实存在的实体。柏拉图派学者主张“世界的灵魂”（soul of the world），伊壁鸠鲁派（Epicureans）主张原子在静止时也有“运动的趋向”（endeavour towards motion）。几乎哲学的每个学派都有自己的一套术语，外人是不懂的。因为人们不能事事精通，所以这些妄语，倒是能粉饰人的愚陋，遮掩人的错误。因此，久而久之，这些词被同学派的人所熟知，成为语言中最重要、最有意义的部分。如果这一学派的教义盛行，那么，“转世”、“轮回”这样的词就会随处可见，无疑，人们也会对这些词有印象，使他们相信对应的事物是存在的。“逍遥派形式”和“心理成像”经历的就是这样一个过程。

15．以物质为例

只要专心研读哲学著作便会看到，很多名称都被当成事物本身，这大大误导了我们的理解。但是有些文字虽被误用，却不易察觉。举一个大家都熟悉的例子：人们对“物质”一词争论不休，好似自然中真有这种东西存在，与“物体”相区别。显然，这两个词所表示的观念是不同的。因为，如果这两个词表示的观念完全相同，那么我们就可以随意替换它们。但是，我们虽然可以说“所有物体的物质相同”，却不能说“所有物质的物体相同”。我们常说一个“物体”比另一个“物体”大，却很少说一个“物质”比另一个“物质”大。为什么会这样呢？因为，“物质”和“物体”虽然并没有实质的区别，有此就有彼；但是它们代表两个不同的观念，“物质”是不完全的，是“物体”的一部分。物体代表外在实体，而物质是物体的一部分，观念更为含糊，物质是物体的构成，只是没有形状。因此，当谈到物质的时候，我们通常指向只有一个，因为物质只是一个实体观念，到处都一样，所以，我们不说不同物质。而物体，却有各种形状，各有不同。物质总要以一定的形状存在，因此要说物质具体是什么就会造成谈论和争辩的含混，这就是哲学家心里和书中的“原料”。这其中的缺陷和滥用，以及还关系到什么词汇，还是由大家考察吧。但至少我可以说，如果我们能如实地观察文字本身，只把它们看作观念的符号，而非事物本身，那么世界上的争论一定会少很多。因为，在我们争论“物质”一词，或类似的名词时，我们争论的只是那个发音所表示的观念，而不过问这个观念是否同自然之物相一致。如果人们能清楚地告知他们的用词究竟表示什么观念，那么在追寻真理时，模糊和争吵就会减半。

16．错误会持续下去

不论文字的误用会产生什么不便，都有一点可以肯定，那就是人们会对错误习以为常，观念会逐渐偏离真理。我们很难使人们相信，他们的父辈、老师、牧师或学士使用的文字，代表的都不是真实存在的自然之物。这是人们不愿改掉错误的一大原因。就连那些颇有见地的、一味追求真理的人，也很难改掉这些错误。因为文字的使用时间越长，人们的印象就越深，相应的错误观念也就更难消除。

17．第五，人们常用文字来表示它们本不能表示的东西

第五，用文字表示它们原本不能表示的事物，也是一种滥用。很多时候，透过事物的类称，我们可以看到它们的名义本质。当我们把名称设为命题，加以确认或否决时，我们通常认为它们代表的就是一类事物的实在本质。如果一个人说：“黄金是有延展性的”，他所暗示的，并不只是“在我的观念中，黄金是有延展性的”（尽管这句话也只能表示这个意思），还表示了“只要具备黄金的本质就有延展性”。也就是说，延展性取决于黄金的本质，与本质密不可分。但是，如果一个人不知道黄金的本质包括什么，就不能把延展性和这种本质联系起来，而只能把延展性和“黄金”的读音联系起来。如果我们认为“人”的定义是“理性的动物”，而非“无羽、宽甲、两足动物”（源于柏拉图），且“人”这个字，在这里代表的是这类生物的本质，那么就说明，“理性的动物”更适于描述“人”的本质。否则，柏拉图怎么不用“人”来表示形状和外表与他物不同的躯体呢？亚里士多德怎么不用“人”来表示兼有身体和推理能力的事物呢？还是因为“人”这个字表示着它本不能表示的其他事物。

18．用文字表示它们原不能表示的事物，就等于用文字表示它们原不能表示的事物之本质

诚然，如果文字对应的观念是事物的本质，那么事物的名称将会比现在更有用，相关的命题也会更确定。但是，由于我们不能掌握事物的本质，我们在对话时使用的文字传递的知识就很少，很不确定。因此，为了减少这种缺陷，人们就悄悄用文字表示含有这种本质的某个事物，似乎这样就更加接近本质。尽管“人”和“黄金”代表的仅仅是事物一系列性质的复杂观念，但是人们在使用这些字词时，都认为这些名称代表的是拥有这种本质（含有以上性质）的事物。这种做法，明显是对文字的滥用，不仅没有减少文字的缺陷，反而让缺陷有所增加。这是因为，我们使用的名称代表的事物并不存在于我们的复杂观念中，所以自然也就不能用这名称来表示这种事物。

19．因此，我们对事物观念的改变，并不会改变对应的事物种类

这里我要解释，为什么在复合情状中，任一观念的消失或改变，都可能使整个复杂观念改变，变成另一种类。比如，过失杀人（chance-medly）、屠杀（manslaughter）、谋杀（murder）和弑亲（parricide）。这是因为，名称表示的复杂观念包括实在本质和名义本质，除此之外，再没有参照其他本质。但是就实体来说，却并非如此。比如黄金，尽管每个人对黄金持有的观念不同，但是大家却不认为事物有所改变，因为人们在心中悄悄把这一名称同这一事物的不变本质（包括各种性质）相参照。你认为黄金还应该包括固定性和溶于王水，这也不会对事物造成改变，只是加上另一简单观念后，让这个复杂观念更加完整。但是，如果我们对名称参照的事物没有任何概念，那么观念的增加就没什么帮助，反而会给我们带来更多困难。如果我们对黄金这一事物没有任何概念，那么就算参照其本质，“黄金”一词（表示或多或少的简单观念集合，在交谈中指向某一事物）也没有什么意义。虽然在交谈中，我们会用“黄金”这一名称表示对应的实体，但是如果仔细考察一下，便会发现“黄金”一词可能和实体本身并不统一，比如就算把金叶子放在我们面前，我们也可能辨认不出。

20．文字滥用的原因在于人们假设自然的作用是规律的

人们用名称来表示事物的实在本质，是因为他们假设（如前所述），自然在产生事物时是有规则的。自然会区分不同物种，如果事物的内部构成相同，那么我们也赋予它们通用名称。但是，只要你看到同种事物的不同特质，就会相信，种类中的个体，虽然名称相同，但内部构成却彼此不同。而且，同种事物的差异程度与不同种事物的差异程度相仿。人们总是假设，内部构成相同，则名称就相同。由于这一假设，人们往往用这些名称代表事物的本质。然而，这些名称实际代表的，只是人们在使用这些事物时头脑中产生的复杂观念。这些名称表示的事物，如果与人们真正指称的事物不同，使用起来就会造成很大的歧义。这种情况在那些深受“实体形式”影响的人身上十分常见，他们坚信不同物种都是由这种“形式”来决定和区分的。

21．文字的滥用包括两种错误的假设

用各种名称来表示我们没有的观念，或不了解的本质，是十分荒谬的，因为这样我们的文字就不代表任何事物。但只要看看人们对文字的使用，就会发现这种荒谬的现象简直随处可见。当一个人问他所见的事物（不管是黑猩猩或怪胎）是不是人，他所问的并不是这个具体的事物是否符合他对“人”形成的复杂观念，而是它是否具有“人”这种事物的本质。因此，在使用事物名称时，常会出现下列两种错误假设：

一、自然界中存在一些特定的本质，各种具体的事物依照这些本质而形成，也根据这些本质得以分类。可以确定的一点是，各种事物都有其本质，使各种可感特质有所依存。但事实证明，这些本质并不能区分物种，划分界限。

二、第一点似乎已经预先假设我们知道上述本质。因为，如果不是已经知道“人”的本质是什么，我们怎么能判断一件事物是否含有这种本质呢？不过，这种假设是完全错误的。因此，如果用这些名称来表示我们本没有的观念，就会在交谈和推理时产生很多混乱，给我们的文字交流带来很多障碍。

22．第六，人们假设文字有确定且明显的意义

第六，还有一种文字的滥用也很普遍，但是却很少有人察觉，那就是，人们把文字附着在观念之上，并习以为常，他们多认为名称与所指意义之间的联系相近且必然，进而认为每个人都能理解名称的含义。因此，他们默认，在使用文字时，特别是在使用那些通用文字时，说者与听者形成的观念完全相同。因此，在交谈中，他们总会以为双方就用词达成一致，认为别人所使用的文字表意同他们自身使用的文字相同，所以就不去费神解释自己的观念，也不去了解他人的观念。这样，人们的交谈就多了很多喧闹与争吵，反而没有获得更多信息。人们总是认为同一文字表示的意义完全相同，然而事实却并非如此，个人使用的文字只是代表个人的观念罢了。在交谈或辩论中，如果有人问一个词究竟是什么意思（这是完全必要的），人们往往会觉得奇怪。但是，日常交谈中出现的争吵却多是因为双方复杂观念的所指不同。人们对每个词的定义可能都有所不同，比如一个再熟悉不过的词：“生命”。如果你问别人“生命”是什么意思，他肯定会觉得你在侮辱他的智商。但是，如果要问一粒种子有没有生命？胚胎在孵化前有没有生命？一个完全失去知觉的醉汉有没有生命？就会发现，就连“生命”这样一个尽人皆知的词也没有明确的定义。人们通常用语言中很普遍的字词表示头脑中出现的大量混合观念，就算很不精确，也能很好的应付寻常交流和日常事务。但就专业用法来说，这是绝对不够的。知识和推理要求观念精准而确定。人们不会那么冥顽不灵，以至于必须问过他人所用词汇究竟为何意才能理解他人含义；也不会那么吹毛求疵，以至于必须去纠正他人对词汇的用法。但是，一旦涉及知识，就必须要就特定文字解释清楚，人们也不必为自己的无知感到羞愧，因为如果不了解别人的说辞用意为何，开口询问也无可厚非。这种文字的滥用在学者之间最为常见，影响也最为恶劣。这些争论如此繁复顽固，阻碍我们通往知识的道路，这都是由于文字的滥用造成的。虽然人们大多认为，让人迷惑的，是书中不同的观念和种类繁多的争论，但是我却认为，这主要是由于不同学派的学者用语不同。我更愿意相信，如果他们能撇开用词，就事论事，就会发现他们的观念原是一样的，只不过表达有所不同。

23．语言的作用：一、表达观点

下面总结一下语言的缺陷和滥用。在我们同他人交谈时，语言的作用主要有三：一、让别人了解自己的想法和观点；二、尽量简单快速做到第一点；三、传播知识。如果以上三点中有任意一点做不到，语言就必然发生了滥用，出现缺陷。

一、出现以下三种情况时，文字就做不到第一点，不能把一个人的观念传达给另一个人。1．人们口中的名称表示不确定的观念；2．把不能表示某观念的名称硬套在该观念之上；3．名称的使用并不确定，时而代表此观念，时而代表彼观念。

24．二、快速传达观念

二、对于复杂观念，如果没有确切的名称来表示，就不能简单快速地表达自己的想法。有时这是文字本身的缺陷，因为文字没有表达对应意义的发音；有时是人为的滥用，因为他想要表示这一观念，却不了解这观念的名称。

25．三、传播知识

三、如果人们的观念同现实事物不一致，那么语言就不能传播知识。虽然这原是由于我们的观念不能准确无误地反映事物的本质（缺乏专注、研究和运用所致），但是这个缺陷也会扩散到文字的使用上，我们以为文字代表了事物的本质，但实际上这种本质却不存在。

26．人们在使用语言时何以做不到上述三点

情况一：如果人们在使用文字时，脑中没有清晰的观念，那么他们在交谈中传达出的只是没有任何意义的噪音。不管他们使用多么晦涩的词汇，显得多么博学，他们的知识也没有增加。同理，正如有些人看书，只看书名，不看内容，知识也不会增加。因为，不管他们在对话中怎么使用这些字词，是依照语法结构还是润饰措辞，它们都不能表意，只是发音罢了。

27．情况二：如果人们只有一些复杂观念，却没有命名，那么这就等于，书商库房里有很多书，但都是散页的，没有书名，要想让别人知道书里讲的是什么，只能把书页拿给他们看，或自己讲给他们听。由于不知用什么字词来表示复杂观念，人们的交谈就会出现障碍，只能罗列构成这些复杂观念的简单观念，这样，别人用一句话就能说清的问题，他可能用二十句才能表达清楚。

28．情况三：在学派和交谈中使用文字，如果用同一名称表示不同观念，有时表示此种意义，有时表示彼种意义，那么这种做法正如在集市做买卖，一个名称能代表很多物品，两者都有失公平。

29．情况四：如果人们对某种语言的使用，有异于把这种语言当作母语的国家的用法，那么纵使他们有正确又清晰的理解，如果不对文字加以界定，也不能传达自己的思想。因为，即使听者对文字的读音十分熟悉，可是同一文字表示的却是不同观念，那么这些文字也不会对听者形成任何刺激，听者也就不能了解说者的观念。

30．情况五：如果人们想象自然界中不存在的事物，在脑中形成相应的观念，并给这些想象中的事物命名，那么在他的言语中，甚至在对方的头脑中就会形成一种幻念，这于现实中的知识是无益的。

31．如果空有名称却没有相应的观念，那么文字就空有读音，没有意义；如果复杂观念没有命名，那么在表达时就不能自如，解释起来就要大费周章；如果用词不严谨，反复无常，那么就不能引人注意，不能让人理解；如果措辞与大众不同，语言没有适用性，那么就等同胡言乱语；如果所言之物不存于世，理解中缺乏真材实料，那么只是自身的幻想。

32．在实体方面，文字何以失其功效

在实体观念方面，我们也容易出现以上五种问题。比如：1．在使用“狼蛛”一词时，如果不知道它代表什么意思，就算读音再正确，也没有任何意义。2．人们在新大陆可能会发现前所未见的动植物，虽然也能形成像马和雄鹿那样的真实观念，但是人们只能用语言加以描述，除非用土著人使用的名称称呼它们，或自己给它们命名。3．如果时而用“物体”表示单纯的区域，时而用它来表示区域及固体，那么就会出现谬误。4．如果把通常说的“骡子”叫作“马”，就不合适了，而且也不会有人理解。5．如果认为“人马兽”是实在的事物，那么就是自欺欺人，把文字当作了事物本身。

33．在情状和关系方面，文字何以失其功效

在情状和关系方面，我们常犯的错误是前四个。1．记得一些情状的名称，比如“感恩”或“慈善”，但头脑中没有确切的观念与之相符。2．拥有一些观念，却不知道对应的名称是什么。比如，一个人喝酒了，面色改变，脾气变差，舌头打结，眼睛发红，脚上发飘，我知道这种状态，却不知道用“醉态”这个词来表示。3．知道善恶为何，也知道它们的名称，但是却会误用。比如，用“节俭”表示“贪婪”之意。4．在使用名称时，意义没有保持一致。5．但是，就情状和关系来说，不会出现观念与实物不一致的情况。因为情状是头脑随意形成的复杂观念，而关系只是对两种物体的考量和比较。这两方面都是自我形成的观念，同外物无关。它们不是外物投射在头脑中的副本，也不是物体内部构成或本质的性质，而是存在于脑中的模式，就一定的行为和关系进行命名。这方面的错误，只是给自己的观念起错了名字，导致文字的使用与他人不同，使得别人不能理解我的观念，进而使得别人认为我的观念是错误的。若我在混合情状观念或关系观念中加入不合理的观念，我就是在幻想。因为，如果仔细考察一下这些观念，就会发现，它们根本不可能存在于头脑之中，更不可能指称任何实体事物。

34．第七，比喻也是对语言的滥用

机智和想象比枯燥的真理和实在的知识更动人。因此，人们不愿承认，比喻和隐喻也是一种语言的缺陷和滥用。我也承认，在交谈时，如果是为了追求愉悦，而不是为了获取知识，那么比喻和隐喻就不能算是错误。然而，如果我们要原原本本地描述事物，使用修辞方法（次序和明细除外）或演讲中运用文字的那一套，都会转而产生错误观念，煽动情感，误导判断，因此就是完美的骗局。所以，这一套在雄辩和演讲中也许是可行的，但是如果交谈的目的是为了传播知识，有所教益，那么就应该加以避免。若涉及真理和知识，那么这种用法，要么是语言本身的错误，要么就是语言使用者的过错。修辞用法多种多样，这里我们不必讨论。如果读者想加以学习，可以去找相关书籍，简直多不胜数。不过，人们太不注意保护利用真理和知识了，因为修辞这种用法与生俱来，而且还得到人们的喜爱。修辞学可谓是错误和欺骗的有力工具。有人加以研习，公开教授，且这种学术受人喜爱，足可见人们大多喜欢欺骗别人，被欺骗了也不自知。因此，我这样反对修辞学，人们肯定会认为我蒙昧无知，冒失粗俗。雄辩就如美人，过于美丽，不容亵渎。既然人们甘愿被骗，那么对欺骗的艺术挑错就太费力不讨好了。

前述缺陷及滥用的补救方法

1．补救方法值得我们寻求

前面我们详述过语言本身的缺陷及人们强加给它的缺陷。语言是连接我们整个社会的纽带，也是知识传播及传承的媒介，因此，我们需要谨慎思考，找到补救上述缺陷的方法。

2．寻求补救方法并不容易

我想，任谁说自己能改变世界上的某种语言或是改变本国的语言，都会受到他人嘲讽，因此没人会这样说。要求人们用始终如一的文字表达同一含义，也就是确信统一的观念，就等于认为人们观念相同，而且人们只能谈论确信的事物。任何人都不能如此要求，因为谁都不能让别人无所不知或缄口不言。如果有人认为巧舌如簧者必学识丰富，认为所言不多者必知之甚少，那么此人就涉世太浅了。

3．哲学上来看，这些补救方法是必需的

虽然我们要允许生意人有生意人的交谈方式，承认街谈巷议也有存在的必然，虽然学术之人可能认为我们提出的供其减少争议的方法是错误的，但是我认为，如果人们愿意寻求真理，维护真理，就应该思考如何清楚明白地表达自己的观点，因为稍不注意，人们的语言就会变得含混不清，模棱两可。

4．错用文字导致重大错误

既然文字的滥用如此普遍，造成那么多错误和误解，那么人们就有理由怀疑，文字的使用，究竟是促进了还是阻碍了知识的传播呢？很多人在进行思考时，特别是针对品行问题进行思考时，总是只关注文字。此时，沉思推理过后的结果只是文字的声音而已，相关的观念都是含混的、不定的，甚至从未产生。所以，思考和推理常以含混和错误告终，并未产生确切的判断和知识。

5．固执

人们独自思考时，若用错了文字，必然会有一定的不便。但是，在同他人对话或争辩时用错文字，就会带来很多混乱。因为语言就是纽带，人们通过语言将新发现告诉彼此，互相推理，传递知识。语言的误用虽然不会堵塞知识的泉眼（因为知识存在于事物本身、语言之外），却会堵住或破坏知识传输的管道，使知识不能得到广泛传播，惠及人类。若在使用文字时没有清晰明确的意义，只能使自己和他人陷入错误之中。而刻意误用文字的人本身就是真理和知识的大敌。但是，毋庸置疑，科学和部分知识的名称和表述都是含混不定的，使得那些最为专注和眼快之人都不能有所提高。这是因为，那些自命传授与维护真理的人认为区分细微之别是一种能力，但是这种能力却基本等同于使用含混误导的词语，使人们被无知蒙住双眼，对错误固执不放。

6．争论

不管看任何有关争论的书，都能发现，那些含混不清、模棱两可的词语只是噪声和争吵的声响，并不能加强人们的理解。因为，说者和听者并没有就文字代表的观念达成一致，他们的争吵不是针对事物，而是针对名称。因此，如果人们对文字的定义不同，那么在使用这一文字时，他们理解的对象就不是一个实体，而只是声音。他们使用的文字虽然相同，但是文字代表的对象却是不同的。

7．举例：蝙蝠和鸟类

蝙蝠到底属不属于鸟类，并不是一个问题。若要问蝙蝠这个名称是不是应该用于其他生物，蝙蝠是否还具有其他特质，简直是荒谬。但是两类人会问这些问题：一类人并不完全了解这两个词代表的概念，此时就要去调查“鸟类”和“蝙蝠”的本质，补全他们的概念。看一看，他们称作“鸟类”的事物包含的所有简单观念是否都在“蝙蝠”身上有所体现。然而，这只涉及调查，并不涉及确定和否认。另一类人是互相争执的人。他们会就究竟“蝙蝠”是不是“鸟类”产生争执。此时问题就出在这两个词的所指上。双方可能认为这两个名称包含的复杂观念不同。如果双方就两个名称的所指达成一致，就不会产生争执。因为，他们很快就会清楚地辨别，“鸟类”这个类别名词中所有的简单观念是否都能在“蝙蝠”这个复杂观念中找到，此时就不会再去怀疑“蝙蝠”究竟属不属于“鸟类”了。在这里，我想让大家思考一下，是不是世界上争执的大部分都是文字层面的，是不是都是因为人们对文字的所指理解不同，是不是只要确定了文字的意义，使它们代表应该或本来的简单观念集合，这些争执就会自然终结，立即消失呢？大家可以想一下，争执的意义为何，争执对彼此有什么好处呢？如果有人能剥去语言含混模糊的外衣（其实每个人在自己使用文字时都是如此），我会认为他是传播知识、维护真理与和平的英雄，而非虚荣、野心和学派的奴隶。

8．补救方法之一：不用无意义字词

为了从某种程度上弥补上文提到的缺陷，防止缺陷带来的不便，可以先遵从以下几条原则，等待有能力之人创造出更成熟的文字体系，来惠及世界。

第一，在使用无所指字词及无意义名称时需谨慎。这些词语包括“直觉”、“同情”和“憎恶”等等，在用这些词时人们心中并没有具体观念，只是发音，并未表意。只要大家想一想对话中使用这类词的频率，就会发现这条原则还是十分必要的。并不是说这些词在正确使用时不能表意，而是这些文字和观念并无自然联系。人们死记硬背，生搬硬套，并不能用它们代表任何观念。而人们若想表意，必须使文字有所指。

9．补救方法二：人们用文字表达情状时也要有意义

第二，仅仅把文字作为表达观念的符号是不够的，若表达的观念是简单的，则必须清晰而不同于其他；若表达的观念是复杂的，则必须确切。也就是说，若决定用一个词语表示简单观念的组合，则用以表示的符号只能表示这一个组合，而不表示其他。这在情状名称方面，特别是品行词语方面，十分必要。因为这些词语并不是对自然界中物体的所指，没有确定的原型，所以十分容易弄混。人们都在谈论“正义”，但对“正义”的意义却各执一词。若要避免这种情况，则人们心中要对“正义”有确切的理解，知道这个复杂观念包括什么，可以将这个复杂观念分解为一个个简单观念。否则，不管是“正义”，还是其他词语的使用都会发生错误。这并不是说，每当人们在使用“正义”这个词时都要先分析一番，但是，考察名称的意义却是必要的，然后把具体观念存在头脑中，在需要时启用。若对“正义”的定义是“按照法律处置人或物”，而“法律”这个词语的本身却没有清晰的概念，那么“正义”这个复杂观念就会是含糊残缺的。然而，要达到确切性是十分复杂的。因此，很多人会认为即使对混合情状名称没有那么精准的观念也是可以原谅的。但是，如果不做到如此精准，人们心中还是会有很多混乱和模糊，同别人交谈时也会发生很多争执。

10．文字要和实体相一致

要正确使用实体名称，只有确定的观念是不够的，这些名称还必须和具体事物相一致。关于这点，我后面会详细阐述。在探寻哲学知识和争论真理时，必须要保证准确。如果这种准确性能扩展到普通对话和日常生活中自然是好的，但是却不太可行。通俗的观念适合通俗的谈话，两者虽然都很含混，但是在市场交易和红白之事中却很适用。既然行商、谈情说爱、烹饪、裁衣都有专属的表达，那么哲学家和抗辩家若想理解他人并得到理解，也应该有自己的一套表达。

11．补救方法三：注意适用性

第三，人们仅用文字表示观念是不够的，哪怕是确定的观念，也是不够的。还必须尽可能使自己的文字所表达的观念同人们普遍认为的相一致。文字，特别是业已形成的语言，并不是某个人的私有财产，而是交易交流的公共尺度。任何人不得随意更改特定表达方式，或文字代表的观念，就算情非得已必须更改，也要事先告知他人。人们之所以表达，就是为了得到理解。如果不按寻常用法来使用，就要不断地解释、询问和打断，这会造成很多不便。语言的适用性可以使我们轻而易举地理解别人，因此，我们必须费些心思加以研究。对待品行文字方面，尤应如此。要了解文字的所指和使用最好通过学习，学习那些能在写作和交谈中清楚表达自己观念的人，他们往往在遣词造句时十分恰当。依据语言的适用性来使用文字，即使不能每次都有幸得到理解，但是就算不被理解也罪在他人，因为我们已经依据适用性来使用，所以他本该理解，如果不能理解，则只怪他自己对语言体系不熟悉了。

12．补救方法四：清晰表意

第四，人们在日常使用文字时，并没有明确它们的含义，使人们确切地知道文字究竟代表什么意义。随着知识的增长，人们的观念会慢慢异于通俗观念，为此人们通常需要创造新文字（人们很少这样做，因为怕被别人认为矫揉造作或标新立异），或赋予旧文字新含义。因此，在遵从前述规则之后，确定文字的含义，清晰示人是很必要的。因为，习惯会使文字的含义不确定、不精确（常见于复杂观念），有时在交谈中，重要词语会变得模糊，出现错误。

13．要清晰表意，有三条途径

人们可用文字表达的观念种类有所不同，所以表达观念的方式在不同场合之下也应有所区分。虽然加以界定可以使文字表意清晰，但有些文字是不能界定的，正如有些文字，必须通过界定才能表意明确一样。还有一种，兼具以上两种特点，这可见于简单观念、情状及物体名称之中。

14．第一、用同义词或实物表示简单观念

第一，人们在使用简单观念名称时，若认为名称不易理解或易被误解，那么出于语言的清晰特性，出于交流的目的，就必须明示名称的意义，告诉他人名称代表的观念是什么。如前所述，这是不能通过界定来完成的。因此，如果同义词不能加以解释，就只剩一种方式了，那就是同实物相联系。有时，名称表示的观念体现在实物中，此时，如果他人熟悉此种物体，就会理解这一名称。比如，要让一个乡下人明白什么是“黄棕色”，只要告诉他那是秋天里枯叶的颜色就好了。但是要明示简单观念名称含义，最保险的方式还是把实体展示出来，使他人有相应的概念。

15．第二、界定混合情状名词含义

第二，混合情状，特别是品行混合情状，大部分都是观念的集合，是由头脑自由组合的，没有特定模式，因此相关的名称不能像简单观念名称一样，通过用实物表示的方式明示出来，不过，混合情状名词可以得到完全准确的界定。因为这些名称都是头脑任意组合而成的观念集合，并没有参考任何原型，因此人们可以明确知道这些集合由哪些观念构成，在使用时就确信无疑，在必要时，就可以声明这些集合的意义为何。因此，人们在谈论道德相关的问题时，如果不能做到清晰明确，就应当受到责备。混合情状名称并不是自然形成的，而是人们界定的，人们悉知其确切意义，所以在谈论道德相关问题时若仍然含混不清，就过于疏忽固执。而在谈论自然之物时，这是可以原谅的，因为同人们界定的名称相反，描述本存之物时含混是难免的。这点我们在后面将会看到。

16．品行可以证实

由此，我可以推出，品行和数学一样，是可以证实的。我们可以完全知晓品行文字表示的确切本质，也可以发现事物之间到底相不相符。人们也许会反驳：在品行学中，我们不止运用实体名称，还运用品行名称，这会产生一些含混。这种反驳是站不住脚的，因为在品行范畴的交谈中，我们很少探寻实体的各种不同本质。比如，我们在说“人要受到法律的制裁”时，我们所指的“人”，只是一种有形的理性生物，至于“人”的其他性质，我们并不予以考虑。因此，自然学家争论儿童或低能儿在物理意义上是否为“人”，并不妨碍品行上涉及的“人”。在品行范畴内，“人”的意义是有形的理性生物，这是确定不改的。如果我们发现猴子或其他生物能够推理，理解普通符号，从概括观念中推出结论，那么不管它们同“人”的外形多么不同，都受制于法律，属于“人”。如果运用得当，实体名称并不会扰乱品行名称，正如它们不会扰乱数学范畴一样（数学家在谈到黄金的立方体、黄金球，或其他物体时，有一个明确的不变的观念，但有时也会把这一观念错用于不适当的物体之上）。

17．界定使品行范畴的交谈变得清晰

我提到这点，是为了指出，人们在品行范畴交谈中使用混合情状名称时，对文字加以界定是很重要的，因为品行范畴的知识可以借助定义，变得清晰确定。如果做不到这层，就有失聪颖，因为界定是明确品行范畴文字意义的唯一方式，不容争辩。因此，如果人们在品行方面的讨论与自然哲学方面的讨论相较有失清晰，那么他们的疏忽和固执则不可原谅。因为在品行方面，人们讨论的是头脑中的观念，没有外物原型得以参照和比对，所以不存在虚假和不充分一说。人们在头脑中形成一个观念，把这一观念作为“正义”一词的标准，将符合标准的行为都归于这一词下，并不困难。难的是，在看到了阿里斯蒂德斯（Aristides）以后，去形成一个贴近该人的观念，因为不管人们形成的观念如何，阿里斯蒂德斯的本质都不变。就前者来说，只消知道观念的组合便可；而就后者来说，必须要探寻外物的本质，背后的构成及不同的性质。

18．界定是唯一的方法

混合情状名称，特别是品行词语的界定十分必要，另一个原因就是我上文提到的：只有加以界定，它们的意义才能得以确定。因为它们代表的观念组成大多杂乱无章，头脑将其聚合并形成特定观念，只有用文字把这些简单观念列举出来，才能使他人知晓，观念的名称代表什么。在这种情况下，感官并不能提供可感物帮助我们，也不能指示给我们某类名称表示何种观念。但就可感简单观念及实体（某种程度上）来说，感官往往可以帮助我们了解它们的名称。

19．第三、用实物表示或界定实体观念

第三，实体名称表示的是我们对特定物种的观念，要解释它们的意义，就要用到上述两种方法：实物表示及界定。通常，每种物体都有特定主要性质，此外还有其他一些附属性质，对这些性质的观念共同构成我们的复杂观念。因此，只要具有特征性标记，区别于其他物体，那么我们就会赋予这种物体相应的名称。就动植物而言，这种主要观念或标记性观念多为形状；就无生命物体而言，多为颜色；就其他一些物体而言，二者兼有。

20．观察是获知物体主要性质观念的最佳方法

这些主要可感性质是构成我们具体观念的原材料，因此，在我们定义名称时，它们也是最容易观察到，最不易变化的部分。尽管“人”就本质上来说代表的是动物和理性的统一，但是在我们的观念中，外形和其他因素一样，也是必备的。因此，很难说柏拉图对“人”的定义（无羽、宽甲、双足）不好，因为外形是一种主要性质，比推理能力更具有决定作用，因为推理能力在人初生之时很少显露，或许有人一生都不曾具备。如果否定柏拉图的定义，仅仅因为某异形生物的外形和“人”不同，而不问它是否有理性的灵魂，就将它杀死，就和谋杀无异了。这就像区别发育良好的婴儿和畸形儿，我们也不能判断他们是否有灵魂。此外，也没有人规定理性灵魂的居所必须有前庭，外形必须有所定式。

21．观察是获知这些主要性质的最好方法，此外别无他法。比如，若用文字描述“马匹”或“鹤鸵”的形状，则人们脑中形成的图片既粗略又不完整。然而，只要看一眼实物，形成的观念就会比文字描述好一千倍。再比如“黄金”，任何描述都不足以表达这一概念，只要用眼睛看到，就会形成清晰的观念。那些经常同黄金打交道的人，一眼便可识出真假纯杂，而外行人（虽然视力很好，但是却不能辨别黄金的颜色同别的黄色有何不同）却看不出其中的区别。其他实体具有的简单观念同样如此，而这些精确的观念，往往没有具体的名称。比如黄金敲打的声响同其他物体不同，但是却没有具体的名称，正如它具有的特殊的黄色，也没有相应的名称一样。

22．界定是获知物体能力的最好方法

我们对于实体的具体观念所包含的很多简单观念都关于能力，通过我们的感官并不能轻易捕获。因此，有些物体名称的意义最好通过列举相关简单观念来告知他人，而非仅仅把实物展示出来。比如，如果一个人仅仅看到黄金，对之的观念就是一个金灿灿的物体，而我的描述包括延展性、可熔性、固定性及溶于王水，这会让他对黄金有更加完整的概念。如果这种闪亮、有一定重量及延展性的物体的本质构成像三角形一样易于感知，那么黄金这种物质也会如三角形一样易于分辨。

23．对于灵魂相关知识的反思

由此可见，我们对于有形之物的知识都是建立在感官之上的。因此，对于脱离了实体的灵魂，我们并不知道它们如何获得这些知识（它们的知识应该比我们的更加完全）。我们的知识和想象的广度不会超过我们的观念，是局限于我们认知方式之内的。比我们肉体之躯高级的灵魂也许能够了解物体的构成，就像我们对三角形的了解一样清晰，也许灵魂能看到物体的性质与内部运作。但是我们永远不可能得知它们获得这些知识的方式。

24．实体观念需同具体事物相一致

实体名称代表着我们的观念，所以可以通过界定进行解释，但是，这些名称同样代表各实体，所以界定也会留下一些缺陷。毕竟实体名称不仅代表了我们的观念，最终还是要代表具体事物，这就要求名称的意义必须同事物的真实状况以及人们的观念相符。因此，就实体而言，我们不能仅仅停留在文字表示复杂观念上，应该进一步去探究实体自身的本质和性质，这样才能进一步完善我们对这种实体的观念，又或从熟悉这种实体的旁人处获知这些本质。按常理，实体的名称不仅应该代表人们心中的复杂观念，更应该代表实体中真实存在的各简单观念，因此想要正确界定实体的名称，必须探究博物志，在仔细审查后，得出它们的具体性质。因为，在针对自然实体进行对话和辩论时，为了避免各种不便，仅仅了解语言的常规使用是不够的，因为在常规使用中，文字表示的观念往往含混而不完整，仅仅使名称符合特定场合的应用也是不够的。我们还应该熟悉实体的历史，来修正并巩固我们具体名称相应的复杂观念。在同他人交谈时，如果发现自己被误解，应该告诉对方具体名称代表的复杂观念为何。对于那些追求知识和真理的人来说，更应如此。因为在儿童时期，人们对事物的观念还不完整，却已然开始习得文字，不经太多思考便随意使用，并未形成与之确切对应的观念。人们会一直将这种习惯延续至成年，因为这种习惯并没有影响他们的日常生活和交谈。然而，这套程序自开始就是错误的，不应该先习得文字，再形成与之对应的观念。由此，我们看到，人们在使用本国语言时总是符合语法规则的，但是在谈到事物本身时却经常出错。所以，在针对真理和知识发生争辩时，人们总是很少有所进展，因为真理和知识存在于事物本身，而非我们的主观想象。因此，仅了解事物的名称实则对我们知识的增长并无助益。

25．要使实体观念和具体事物相一致并不容易

因此我们希望，精通物理性质研究、熟悉各类自然实体的人可以把各类实体共通的简单观念逐条记下，这将消除很多混乱。因为人们对各种事物的熟悉程度不同，了解的性质也多少不一，如果使用同一名称就会造成很多误解。但是，将各观念逐条记录、编辑成典，几乎是不可能的，因为这会耗费很多人力、物力、财力。在这项大工程完成之前，只要我们能做到在使用时界定清楚就够了。如果人们在必要时能做到这一点，自然是很好的，但是这点也很难做到。我们在交谈和争论时，所用的文字意义并不统一，然而我们却误以为日常使用的文字意义已然确定，以为文字所代表的观念也众所周知，此刻加以询问便显示出自己的无知，所以便错用开来。但实际上，所有复杂观念名称的意义都是不确定的，也并非从一而终代表同一观念。如果没有获得必要的解释，那么我们缺少对一些事情的特定知识并不丢人。所以，就算不知道某个声音在别人心中代表什么观念，也不丢脸，因为别人并未告知我们，而离了他们的解释，我们便无从得知。在交流中，语言是必要的，所以人们一定程度上就日常用语的意义达成一致，以便于日常对话。如果人们熟悉一种语言，就不会对文字的通俗用法一无所知。但通俗用法也不是完全确定的，代表的也是某一人群的观念，因此作为标准来说，也是可变的。现下要编纂上面提到的字典也许费时、费财、费力，但是我认为，对于那些依赖外表得以区别的实体来说，画成草图装订成册也无可厚非。如此一来，就能更容易、更便捷地教给他人词语的意义（特别是其他国家和不同时代的词语），这样，我们就不用再通过著名批评家长篇累牍的评论来了解先贤观念的本真了。自然学家将会从图册中获益良多，只需稍加询问，他们就会坦言，对罂粟和野山羊之类的动植物，看图比读定义来的清楚明白。如果不用“痒痒挠”和“铜钹”解释古时候用的“净栉”和“叉铃”，而是配以图示，那么人们就会有更清楚的观念。虽然罗马时代的“宽袍”、“罩衫”和“披肩”被翻译成了“袍子”、“外套”和“斗篷”，但是我们对这些服饰特点还是没有什么概念，正如我们对这些服饰的裁缝师也没什么概念一样。如此云云，若实体的形状可以靠眼睛区别，最好能用图画描绘，这样比用文字描述更加到位。

26．补救方法五：文字的意义要前后一致

第五，如果人们不愿费事表明他们文字的含义，又没有对文字界定，在传教和交谈中，他们至少应该保持文字意义的前后一致。如果大家都能做到这一点，便可节约很多书籍，也能终止很多争端，一些充满隐晦辞藻的典籍也可加以浓缩，很多哲人和诗人的作品也能得以提炼。

27．何时对意义的变化加以解释

毕竟，同人们无限的思想相比，语言文字还是略显贫乏。人们想要准确表达自己的观念，就算谨慎有加，也不可避免会用相同文字表示不同意义。在交谈和争论中，尽管人们在变更词义时，可能没有机会重新定义，但人们若不是故意混淆视听，公正聪明的读者都能大致明白其中的含义。不过如果读者因此不能领会真正的意图，则作者应该加以解释，表明自己使用的词语是何意义。

John Locke Of the Abuse of Words

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

Of Ideas

Of Ideas in General, and their Original

Idea is the object of thinking

§1．Every man being conscious to himself, that he thinks, and that which his mind is applied about, whilst thinking, being the ideas, that are there, 'tis past doubt, that men have in their minds several ideas, such as are those expressed by the words, whiteness, hardness, sweetness, thinking, motion, man, elephant, army, drunkenness, and others: it is in the first place then to be inquired, how he comes by them? I know it is a received doctrine, that men have native ideas, and original characters stamped upon their minds, in their very first being. This opinion I have at large examined already; and, I suppose, what I have said in the foregoing book, will be much more easily admitted, when I have shown, whence the understanding may get all the ideas it has, and by what ways and degrees they may come into the mind; for which I shall appeal to everyone's own observation and experience.

All ideas come from sensation or reflection

§2．Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characters, without any ideas; how comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store, which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it, with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge? To this I answer, in one word, from experience: in that, all our knowledge is founded; and from that it ultimately derives itself. Our observation employed either about external sensible objects; or about the internal operations of our minds, perceived and reflected on by ourselves, is that, which supplies our understandings with all the materials of thinking. These two are the fountains of knowledge, from whence all the ideas we have, or can naturally have, do spring.

The objects of sensation one source of ideas

§3．First, our senses, conversant about particular sensible objects, do convey into the mind, several distinct perceptions of things, according to those various ways, wherein those objects do affect them: and thus we come by those ideas, we have of yellow, white, heat, cold, soft, hard, bitter, sweet, and all those which we call sensible qualities, which when I say the senses convey into the mind, I mean, they from external objects convey into the mind what produces there those perceptions. This great source, of most of the ideas we have, depending wholly upon our senses, and derived by them to the understanding, I call sensation.

The operations of our minds, the other source of them

§4．Secondly, the other fountain, from which experience furnisheth the understanding with ideas, is the perception of the operations of our own minds within us, as it is employed about the ideas it has got; which operations, when the soul comes to reflect on, and consider, do furnish the understanding with another set of ideas, which could not be had from things without; and such are, perception, thinking, doubting, believing, reasoning, knowing, willing, and all the different actings of our own minds; which we being conscious of, and observing in ourselves, do from these receive into our understandings, as distinct ideas, as we do from bodies affecting our senses. This source of ideas, every man has wholly in himself: and though it be not sense, as having nothing to do with external objects; yet it is very like it, and might properly enough be called internal sense. But as I call the other sensation, so I call this reflection, the ideas it affords being such only, as the mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within itself. By reflection then, in the following part of this discourse, I would be understood to mean, that notice which the mind takes of its own operations, and the manner of them, by reason where of, there come to be ideas of these operations in the understanding. These two, I say, viz. external, material things, as the objects of sensation; and the operations of our own minds within, as the objects of reflection, are, to me, the only originals, from whence all our ideas take their beginnings. The term operations here, I use in a large sense, as comprehending not barely the actions of the mind about its ideas, but some sort of passions arising sometimes from them, such as is the satisfaction or uneasiness arising from any thought.

All our ideas are of the one or the other of these

§5．The understanding seems to me, not to have the least glimmering of any ideas, which it doth not receive from one of these two. External objects furnish the mind with the ideas of sensible qualities, which are all those different perceptions they produce in us: and the mind furnishes the understanding with ideas of its own operations.

These, when we have taken a full survey of them, and their several modes, combinations, and relations, we shall find to contain all our whole stock of ideas; and that we have nothing in our minds, which did not come in, one of these two ways. Let anyone examine his own thoughts, and throughly search into his understanding, and then let him tell me, whether all the original ideas he has there, are any other than of the objects of his senses; or of the operations of his mind, considered as objects of his reflection: and how great a mass of knowledge soever he imagines to be lodged there, he will, upon taking a strict view, see, that he has not any idea in his mind, but what one of these two have imprinted; though, perhaps, with infinite variety compounded and enlarged by the understanding, as we shall see hereafter.

Observable in children

§6．He that attentively considers the state of a child, at his first coming into the world, will have little reason to think him stored with plenty of ideas, that are to be the matter of his future knowledge. 'Tis by degrees he comes to be furnished with them: and though the ideas of obvious and familiar qualities, imprint themselves, before the memory begins to keep a register of time and order, yet 'tis often so late, before some unusual qualities come in the way, that there are few men that cannot recollect the beginning of their acquaintance with them: and if it were worthwhile, no doubt a child might be so ordered, as to have but a very few, even of the ordinary ideas, till he were grown up to a man. But all that are born into the world being surrounded with bodies, that perpetually and diversely affect them, variety of ideas, whether care be taken about it or no, are imprinted on the minds of children. Light, and colours, are busy at hand everywhere, when the eye is but open; sounds, and some tangible qualities fail not to solicit their proper senses, and force an entrance to the mind; but yet, I think, it will be granted easily, that if a child were kept in a place, where he never saw any other but black and white, till he were a man, he would have no more ideas of scarlet or green, than he that from his childhood never tasted an oyster, or a pineapple, has of those particular relishes.

Men are differently furnished with these, according to the different objects they converse with

§7．Men then come to be furnished with fewer or more simple ideas from without, according as the objects, they converse with, afford greater or less variety; and from the operation of their minds within, according as they more or less reflect on them. For, though he that contemplates the operations of his mind, cannot but have plain and clear ideas of them; yet unless he turn his thoughts that way, and considers them attentively, he will no more have clear and distinct ideas of all the operations of his mind, and all that may be observed therein, than he will have all the particular ideas of any landscape, or of the parts and motions of a clock, who will not turn his eyes to it, and with attention heed all the parts of it. The picture, or clock may be so placed, that they may come in his way every day; but yet he will have but a confused idea of all the parts they are made up of, till he applies himself with attention, to consider them each in particular.

Ideas of reflection later, because they need attention

§8．And hence we see the reason, why 'tis pretty late, before most children get ideas of the operations of their own minds;and some have not any very clear, or perfect ideas of the greatest part of them all their lives. Because, though they pass there continually; yet like floating visions, they make not deep impressions enough, to leave in the mind clear distinct lasting ideas, till the understanding turns inwards upon itself, reflects on its own operations, and makes them the object of its own contemplation. Children, when they come first into it, are surrounded with a world of new things, which, by a constant solicitation of their senses, draw the mind constantly to them, forward to take notice of new, and apt to be delightedwith the variety of changing objects. Thus the first years are usually employed and diverted in looking abroad. Men's business in them is to acquaint themselves with what is to be found without; and so growing up in a constant attention to outward sensations, seldom make any considerable reflection on what passes within them, till they come to be of riper years; and some scarce ever at all.

The soul begins to have ideas, when it begins to perceive

§9．To ask, at what time a man has first any ideas, is to ask, when he begins to perceive; having ideas, and perception, being the same thing. I know it is an opinion, that the soul always thinks, and that it has the actual perception of ideas in itself constantly, as long as it exists; and that actual thinking is as inseparable from the soul, as actual extension is from the body; which if true, to inquire after the beginning of a man's ideas, is the same, as to inquire after the beginning of his soul. For by this account, soul and its ideas, as body and its extension, will begin to exist both at the same time.

The soul thinks not always; for this wants proofs

§10．But whether the soul be supposed to exist antecedent to, or coeval with, or some time after the first rudiments of organisation, or the beginnings of life in the body, I leave to be disputed by those, who have better thought of that matter. I confess myself, to have one of those dull souls, that doth not perceive itself always to contemplate ideas, nor can conceive it any more necessary for the soul always to think, than for the body always to move; the perception of ideas being (as I conceive) to the soul, what motion is to the body, not its essence, but one of its operations: and therefore, though thinking be supposed never so much the proper action of the soul; yet it is not necessary, to suppose, that it should be always thinking, always in action. That, perhaps, is the privilege of the infinite Author and Preserver of things, 'who never slumbers nor sleeps'; but is not competent to any finite being, at least not to the soul of man. We know certainly by experience, that we sometimes think, and thence draw this infallible consequence, that, there is something in us, that has a power to think: but whether that substance perpetually thinks, or no, we can be no further assured, than experience informs us. For to say, that actual thinking is essential to the soul, and inseparable from it, is to beg, what is in question, and not to prove it by reason; which is necessary to be done, if it be not a self-evident proposition. But whether this, 'that the soul always thinks', be a self-evident proposition, that everybody assents to at first hearing, I appeal to mankind. 'Tis doubted whether I thought all last night, or no; the question being about a matter of fact, 'tis begging it, to bring as a proof for it, an hypothesis, which is the very thing in dispute; by which way one may prove any thing, and 'tis but supposing that all watches, whilst the balance beats, think, and 'tis sufficiently proved, and past doubt, that my watch thought all last night. But he, that would not deceive himself, ought to build his hypothesis on matter of fact, and make it out by sensible experience, and not presume on matter of fact, because of his hypothesis, that is, because he supposes it to be so; which way of proving, amounts to this, that I must necessarily think all last night, because another supposes I always think, though I myself cannot perceive, that I always do so.

But men in love with their opinions, may not only suppose what is in question, but allege wrong matter of fact. How else could anyone make it an inference of mine, that a thing is not, because we are not sensible of it in our sleep? I do not say there is no soul in a man, because he is not sensible of it in his sleep: but I do say, he cannot think at any time waking or sleeping, without being sensible of it. Our being sensible of it, is not necessary to anything, but to our thoughts; and to them it is, and to them it will always be necessary, till we can think without being conscious of it.

It is not always conscious of it

§11．I grant that the soul in a waking man, is never without thought because it is the condition of being awake: but whether sleeping without dreaming be not an affection of the whole man, mind as well as body, may be worth a waking man's consideration; it being hard to conceive, that anything should think, and not be conscious of it. If the soul doth think in a sleeping man, without being conscious of it, I ask, whether, during such thinking, it has any pleasure or pain, or be capable of happiness or misery? I am sure the man is not, no more than the bed or earth he lies on. For to be happy or miserable without being conscious of it, seems to me utterly inconsistent and impossible. Or if it be possible, that the soul can, whilst the body is sleeping, have its thinking, enjoyments, and concerns, its pleasure or pain apart, which the man is not conscious of, nor partakes in: it is certain, that Socrates asleep, and Socrates awake, is not the same person: but his soul when he sleeps, and Socrates the man consisting of body and soul when he is waking, are two persons; since waking Socrates, has no knowledge of, or concernment for that happiness, or misery of his soul, which it enjoys alone by itself whilst he sleeps, without perceiving anything of it; no more than he has for the happiness, or misery of a man in the Indies, whom he knows not. For if we take wholly away all consciousness of our actions and sensations, especially of pleasure and pain, and the concernment that accompanies it, it will be hard to know wherein to place personal identity.

If a sleeping man thinks without knowing it, the sleeping and waking man are two persons

§12．The soul, during sound sleep, thinks, say these men. Whilst it thinks and perceives, it is capable certainly of those of delight or trouble, as well as any other perceptions; and it must necessarily be conscious of its own perceptions. But it has all this apart: the sleeping man, 'tis plain, is conscious of nothing of all this. Let us suppose then the soul of Castor, whilst he is sleeping, retired from his body, which is no impossible supposition for the men I have here to do with, who so liberally allow life, without a thinking soul to all other animals. These men cannot then judge it impossible, or a contradiction, that the body should live without the soul; nor that the soul should subsist and think, or have perception, even perception of happiness or misery, without the body. Let us then, as I say, suppose the soul of Castor separated, during his sleep, from his body, to think apart. Let us suppose too, that it chooses for its scene of thinking, the body of another man, v.g. Pollux, who is sleeping without a soul: for if Castor's soul can think whilst Castor is asleep, what Castor is never conscious of, 'tis no matter what place it chooses to think in. We have here then, the bodies of two men with only one soul between them, which we will suppose to sleep and wake by turns; and the soul still thinking in the waking man, whereof the sleeping man is never conscious, has never the least perception. I ask then, whether Castor and Pollux, thus, with only one soul between them, which thinks and perceives in one, what the other is never conscious of, nor is concerned for, are not two as distinct persons, as Castor and Hercules; or, as Socrates and Plato were? And whether one of them might not be very happy, and the other very miserable? Just by the same reason, they make the soul and the man two persons, who make the soul think apart, what the man is not conscious of. For, I suppose, nobody will make identity of persons, to consist in the soul's being united to the very same numerical particles of matter: for if that be necessary to identity, 'twill be impossible, in that constant flux of the particles of our bodies, that any man should be the same person, two days, or two moments together.

Impossible to convince those that sleep without dreaming, that they think

§13．Thus, methinks, every drowsy nod shakes their doctrine, who teach, that the soul is always thinking. Those, at least, who do at any time sleep without dreaming, can never be convinced, that their thoughts are sometimes for four hours busy without their knowing of it; and if they are taken in the very act, waked in the middle of that sleeping contemplation, can give no manner of account of it.

That men dream without remembering it, in vain urged

§14．'Twill perhaps be said, that the soul thinks, even in the soundest sleep, but the memory retains it not. That the soul in a sleeping man should be this moment busy a thinking, and the next moment in a waking man, not remember, nor be able to recollect one jot of all those thoughts, is very hard to be conceived, and would need some better proof than bare assertion, to make it be believed. For who can without any more ado, but being barely told so, imagine, that the greatest part of men, do, during all their lives, for several hours every day, think of something, which if they were asked, even in the middle of these thoughts, they could remember nothing at all of? Most men, I think, pass a great part of their sleep without dreaming. I once knew a man, that was bred a scholar, and had no bad memory, who told me, he had never dreamed in his life, till he had that fever, he was then newly recovered of, which was about the five or six and twentieth year of his age. I suppose the world affords more such instances: at least everyone's acquaintance will furnish him with examples enough of such, as pass most of their nights without dreaming.

Upon this hypothesis, the thoughts of a sleeping man ought to be most rational

§15．To think often, and never to retain it so much as one moment, is a very useless sort of thinking: and the soul in such a state of thinking, does very little if at all, excel that of a looking-glass, which constantly receives variety of images, or ideas, but retains none; they disappear and vanish, and there remain no footsteps of them; the looking-glass is never the better for such ideas, nor the soul for such thoughts. Perhaps it will be said, that in a waking man, the materials of the body are employed, and made use of, in thinking; and that the memory of thoughts, is retained by the impressions that are made on the brain, and the traces there left after such thinking; but that in the thinking of the soul, which is not perceived in a sleeping man, there the soul thinks apart, and making no use of the organs of the body, leaves no impressions on it, and consequently no memory of such thoughts. Not to mention again the absurdity of two distinct persons, which follows from this supposition, I answer further, that whatever ideas the mind can receive, and contemplate without the help of the body, it is reasonable to conclude, it can retain without the help of the body too, or else the soul, or any separate spirit will have but little advantage by thinking. If it has no memory of its own thoughts; if it cannot lay up them for its use, and be able to recall them upon occasion; if it cannot reflect upon what is past, and make use of its former experiences, reasonings, and contemplations, to what purpose does it think? They, who make the soul a thinking thing, at this rate, will not make it a much more noble being, than those do, whom they condemn, for allowing it to be nothing but the subtlest parts of matter. Characters drawn on dust, that the first breath of wind effaces; or impressions made on a heap of atoms, or animal spirits, are altogether as useful, and render the subject as noble, as the thoughts of a soul that perish in thinking; that once out of sight, are gone forever, and leave no memory of themselves behind them. Nature never makes excellent things, for mean or no uses: and it is hardly to be conceived, that our infinitely wise Creator, should make so admirable a faculty, as the power of thinking, that faculty which comes nearest the excellency of his own incomprehensible being, to be so idly and uselessly employed, at least a fourth part of its time here, as to think constantly, without remembering any of those thoughts, without doing any good to itself or others, or being any way useful to any other part of the creation. If we will examine it, we shall not find, I suppose, the motion of dull and senseless matter, anywhere in the universe, made so little use of, and so wholly thrown away.

On this hypothesis the soul must have ideas not derived from sensation or reflection, of which there is no appearance

§16．'Tis true, we have sometimes instances of perception, whilst we are asleep, and retain the memory of those thoughts: but how extravagant and incoherent for the most part they are; how little conformable to the perfection and order of a rational being, those who are acquainted with dreams, need not be told. This I would willingly be satisfied in, whether the soul, when it thinks thus apart, and as it were separate from the body, acts less rationally than when conjointly with it, or no: if its separate thoughts be less rational, then these men must say, that the soul owes the perfection of rational thinking to the body: if it does not, 'tis a wonder that our dreams should be, for the most part, so frivolous and irrational; and that the soul should retain none of its more rational soliloquies and meditations.

If I think when I know it not, nobody else can know it

§17．Those who so confidently tell us, that the soul always actually thinks, I would they would also tell us, what those ideas are, that are in the soul of a child, before, or just at the union with the body, before it hath received any by sensation. The dreams of sleeping men, are, as I take it, all made up of the waking man's ideas, though, for the most part, oddly put together. 'Tis strange, if the soul has ideas of its own, that it derived not from sensation or reflection, (as it must have, if it thought before it received any impressions from the body) that it should never, in its private thinking, (so private, that the man himself perceives it not) retain any of them, the very moment it wakes out of them, and then make the man glad with new discoveries. Who can find it reasonable, that the soul should, in its retirement, during sleep, have so many hours thoughts, and yet never light on any of those ideas it borrowed not from sensation or reflection; or at least preserve the memory of none, but such, which being occasioned from the body, must needs be less natural to a spirit? 'Tis strange, the soul should never once in a man's whole life, recall over any of its pure, native thoughts, and those ideas it had before it borrowed anything from the body; never bring into the waking man's view, any other ideas, but what have a tange of the cask, and manifestly derive their original from that union. If it always thinks, and so had ideas before it was united, or before it received any from the body, 'tis not to be supposed, but that during sleep, it recollects its native ideas, and during that retirement from communicating with the body, whilst it thinks by itself, the ideas, it is busied about, should be, sometimes at least, those more natural and congenial ones which it had in itself, underived from the body, or its own operations about them: which since the waking man never remembers, we must from this hypothesis conclude, either that the soul remembers something that the man does not; or else that memory belongs only to such ideas, as are derived from the body, or the mind's operations about them.

How knows anyone that the soul always thinks? For if it be not a self-evident proposition, it needs proof

§18．I would be glad also to learn from these men, who so confidently pronounce, that the human soul, or which is all one, that a man always thinks, how they come to know it; nay, how they come to know that they themselves think, when they themselves do not perceive it. This I am afraid, is to be sure, without proofs; and to know, without perceiving: 'tis, I suspect, a confused notion, taken up to serve an hypothesis; and none of those clear truths, that either their own evidence forces us to admit, or common experience makes it impudence to deny. For the most that can be said of it, is, that 'tis possible the soul may always think, but not always retain it in memory: and, I say, it is as possible, that the soul may not always think; and much more probable, that it should sometimes not think, than that it should often think, and that a long while together, and not be conscious to itself the next moment after, that it had thought.

That a man should be busy in thinking, and yet not retain it the next moment, very improbable

§19．To suppose the soul to think, and the man not to perceive it, is, as has been said, to make two persons in one man: and if one considers well these men's way of speaking, one should be led into a suspicion, that they do so. For they who tell us, that the soul always thinks, do never, that I remember, say, that a man always thinks. Can the soul think, and not the man? Or a man think, and not be conscious of it? This perhaps, would be suspected of jargon in others. If they say, the man thinks always, but is not always conscious of it; they may as well say, his body is extended, without having parts. For 'tis altogether as intelligible to say, that a body is extended without parts, as that anything thinks without being conscious of it, or perceiving, that it does so. They who talk thus, may, with as much reason, if it be necessary to their hypothesis, say, that a man is always hungry, but that he does not always feel it: whereas hunger consists in that very sensation, as thinking consists in being conscious that one thinks. If they say, that a man is always conscious to himself of thinking; I ask, how they know it? Consciousness is the perception of what passes in a man's own mind. Can another man perceive, that I am conscious of anything, when I perceive it not myself? No man's knowledge here, can go beyond his experience. Wake a man out of a sound sleep, and ask him, what he was that moment thinking on? If he himself be conscious of nothing he then thought on, he must be a notable diviner of thoughts, that can assure him, that he was thinking: may he not with more reason assure him, he was not asleep? This is something beyond philosophy; and it cannot be less than revelation, that discovers to another, thoughts in my mind, when I can find none there myself: and they must needs have a penetrating sight, who can certainly see, that I think, when I cannot perceive it myself, and when I declare, that I do not; and yet can see, that dogs or elephants do not think, when they give all the demonstration of it imaginable, except only telling us, that they do so. This some may suspect to be a step beyond the Rosecrucians; it seeming easier to make oneself invisible to others, than to make another's thoughts visible to me, which are not visible to himself. But 'tis but defining the soul to be a substance, that always thinks, and the business is done. If such definition be of any authority, I know not what it can serve for, but to make many men suspect, that they have no souls at all, since they find a good part of their lives pass away without thinking. For no definitions, that I know, no suppositions of any sect, are of force enough to destroy constant experience; and perhaps, 'tis the affectation of knowing beyond what we perceive, that makes so much useless dispute, and noise, in the world.

No ideas but from sensation or reflection, evident, if we observe children

§20．I see no reason therefore to believe, that the soul thinks before the senses have furnished it with ideas to think on; and as those are increased, and retained; so it comes, by exercise, to improve its faculty of thinking, in the several parts of it, as well as afterwards, by compounding those ideas, and reflecting on its own operations, it increases its stock as well as facility, in remembering, imagining, reasoning, and other modes of thinking.

§21．He that will suffer himself, to be informed by observation and experience, and not make his own hypothesis the rule of nature, will find few signs of a soul accustomed to much thinking in a new-born child, and much fewer of any reasoning at all. And yet it is hard to imagine, that the rational soul should think so much, and not reason at all. And he that will consider, that infants, newly come into the world, spend the greatest part of their time in sleep, and are seldom awake, but when either hunger calls for the teat, or some pain, (the most importunate of all sensations) or some other violent impression on the body, forces the mind to perceive, and attend to it. He, I say, who considers this, will, perhaps, find reason to imagine, that a fœtus in the mother's womb, differs not much from the state of a vegetable; but passes the greatest part of its time without perception or thought, doing very little, but sleep in a place, where it needs not seek for food, and is surrounded with liquor, always equally soft, and near of the same temper; where the eyes have no light, and the ears, so shut up, are not very susceptible of sounds; and where there is little or no variety, or change of objects, to move the senses.

§22．Follow a child from its birth, and observe the alterations that time makes, and you shall find, as the mind by the senses comes more and more to be furnished with ideas, it comes to be more and more awake; thinks more, the more it has matter to think on. After some time, it begins to know the objects, which being most familiar with it, have made lasting impressions. Thus it comes, by degrees, to know the persons it daily converses with, and distinguish them from strangers; which are instances and effects of its coming to retain and distinguish the ideas the senses convey to it: and so we may observe, how the mind, by degrees, improves in these, and advances to the exercise of those other faculties of enlarging, compounding, and abstracting its ideas, and of reasoning about them, and reflecting upon all these, of which, I shall have occasion to speak more hereafter.

§23．If it shall be demanded then, when a man begins to have any ideas? I think, the true answer is, when he first has any sensation. For since there appear not to be any ideas in the mind, before the senses have conveyed any in, I conceive that ideas in the understanding, are coeval with sensation; which is such an impression or motion, made in some part of the body, as produces some perception in the understanding. 'Tis about these impressions made on our senses by outward objects, that the mind seems first to employ itself in such operations as we call perception, remembering, consideration, reasoning, etc.

The original of all our knowledge

§24．In time, the mind comes to reflect on its own operations, about the ideas got by sensation, and thereby stores itself with a new set of ideas, which I call ideas of reflection. These are the impressions that are made on our senses by outward objects, that are extrinsical to the mind; and its own operations, proceeding from powers intrinsical and proper to itself, which when reflected on by itself, become also objects of its contemplation, are, as I have said, the original of all knowledge. Thus the first capacity of human intellect, is, That the mind is fitted to receive the impressions made on it; either, through the senses, by outward objects; or by its own operations, when it reflects on them. This is the first step a man makes towards the discovery of anything, and the groundwork, whereon to build all those notions, which ever he shall have naturally in this world. All those sublime thoughts, which tower above the clouds, and reach as high as heaven itself, take their rise and footing here: in all that great extent wherein the mind wanders, in those remote speculations, it may seem to be elevated with, it stirs not one jot beyond those ideas, which sense or reflection, have offered for its contemplation.

In the reception of simple ideas, the understanding is for the most part passive

§25．In this part, the understanding is merely passive; and whether or no, it will have these beginnings, and as it were materials of knowledge, is not in its own power. For the objects of our senses, do, many of them, obtrude their particular ideas upon our minds, whether we will or no: and the operations of our minds, will not let us be without, at least some obscure notions of them. No man can be wholly ignorant of what he does, when he thinks. These simple ideas, when offered to the mind, the understanding can no more refuse to have, nor alter, when they are imprinted, nor blot them out, and make new ones itself, than a mirror can refuse, alter, or obliterate the images or ideas, which, the objects set before it, do therein produce. As the bodies that surround us, do diversely affect our organs, the mind is forced to receive the impressions; and cannot avoid the perception of those ideas that are annexed to them.

[...]

Of Simple Ideas

Uncompounded appearances

§1．The better to understand the nature, manner, and extent of our knowledge, one thing is carefully to be observed, concerning the ideas we have; and that is, that some of them are simple, and some complex.

Though the qualities that affect our senses, are, in the things themselves, so united and blended, that there is no separation, no distance between them; yet 'tis plain, the ideas they produce in the mind, enter by the senses simple and unmixed. For though the sight and touch often take in from the same object, at the same time, different ideas; as a man sees at once motion and colour; the hand feels softness and warmth in the same piece of wax: yet the simple ideas thus united in the same subject, are as perfectly distinct, as those that come in by different senses. The coldness and hardness, which a man feels in a piece of ice, being as distinct ideas in the mind, as the smell and whiteness of a lily; or as the taste of sugar, and smell of a rose: and there is nothing can be plainer to a man, than the clear and distinct perception he has of those simple ideas; which being each in itself uncompounded, contains in it nothing but one uniform appearance, or conception in the mind, and is not distinguishable into different ideas.

The mind can neither make nor destroy them

§2．These simple ideas, the materials of all our knowledge, are suggested and furnished to the mind, only by those two ways above mentioned, viz. sensation and reflection. When the understanding is once stored with these simple ideas, it has the power to repeat, compare, and unite them even to an almost infinite variety, and so can make at pleasure new complex ideas. But it is not in the power of the most exalted wit, or enlarged understanding, by any quickness or variety of thought, to invent or frame one new simple idea in the mind, not taken in by the ways before mentioned: nor can any force of the understanding, destroy those that are there. The dominion of man, in this little world of his own understanding, being muchwhat the same, as it is in the great world of visible things; wherein his power, however managed by art and skill, reaches no further, than to compound and divide the materials, that are made to his hand; but can do nothing towards the making the least particle of new matter, or destroying one atom of what is already in being. The same inability, will everyone find in himself, who shall go about to fashion in his understanding any simple idea, not received in by his senses, from external objects; or by reflection from the operations of his own mind about them. I would have anyone try to fancy any taste, which had never affected his palate; or frame the idea of a scent, he had never smelt: and when he can do this I will also conclude, that a blind man hath ideas of colours, and a deaf man true distinct notions of sounds.

§3．This is the reason why, though we cannot believe it impossible to God, to make a creature with other organs, and more ways to convey into the understanding the notice of corporeal things than those five, as they are usually counted, which he has given to man: yet I think, it is not possible, for anyone to imagine any other qualities in bodies, howsoever constituted, whereby they can be taken notice of, besides sounds, tastes, smells, visible and tangible qualities. And had mankind been made with but four senses, the qualities then, which are the object of the fifth sense, had been as far from our notice, imagination, and conception, as now any belonging to a sixth, seventh, or eighth sense, can possibly be: which, whether yet some other creatures, in some other parts of this vast, and stupendous universe, may not have, will be a great presumption to deny. He that will not set himself proudly at the top of all things; but will consider the immensity of this fabric, and the great variety, that is to be found in this little and inconsiderable part of it, which he has to do with, may be apt to think, that in other mansions of it, there may be other, and different intelligent beings, of whose faculties, he has as little knowledge or apprehension, as a worm shut up in one drawer of a cabinet, hath of the senses or understanding of a man; such variety and excellency, being suitable to the wisdom and power of the maker. I have here followed the common opinion of man's having but five senses; though, perhaps, there may be justly counted more; but either supposition serves equally to my present purpose.

[...]

Of Complex Ideas

Made by the mind out of simple ones

§1．We have hitherto considered those ideas, in the reception whereof, the mind is only passive, which are those simple ones received from sensation and reflection before-mentioned, whereof the mind cannot make one to itself, nor have any idea which does not wholly consist of them. But as the mind is wholly passive in the reception of all its simple ideas, so it exerts several acts of its own, whereby out of its simple ideas, as the materials and foundations of the rest, the other are framed. The acts of the mind wherein it exerts its power over its simple ideas are chiefly these three, 1. combining several simple ideas into one compound one, and thus all complex ideas are made. 2. The second is bringing two ideas, whether simple or complex, together; and setting them by one another, so as to take a view of them at once, without uniting them into one; by which way it gets all its ideas of relations. 3. The third is separating them from all other ideas that accompany them in their real existence; this is called abstraction: And thus all its general ideas are made. This shows man's power, and its way of operation, to be muchwhat the same in the material and intellectual world. For the materials in both being such as he has no power over, either to make or destroy, all that man can do, is either to unite them together, or to set them by one another, or wholly separate them. I shall here begin with the first of these in the consideration of complex ideas, and come to the other two in their due places. As simple ideas are observed to exist in several combinations united together; so the mind has a power to consider several of them united together, as one idea; and that not only as they are united in external objects, but as itself has joined them. Ideas thus made up of several simple ones put together, I call complex; such as are beauty, gratitude, a man, an army, the universe; which though complicated of various simple ideas, or complex ideas made up of simple ones, yet are, when the mind pleases, considered each by itself, as one entire thing, and signified by one name.

Made voluntarily

§2．In this faculty of repeating and joining together its ideas, the mind has great power in varying and multiplying the objects of its thoughts, infinitely beyond what sensation or reflection furnished it with: but all this still confined to those simple ideas, which it received from those two sources, and which are the ultimate materials of all its compositions. For simple ideas are all from things themselves; and of these the mind can have no more, nor other than what are suggested to it. It can have no other ideas of sensible qualities than what come from without by the senses; nor any ideas of other kind of operations of a thinking substance, than what it finds in itself: but when it has once got these simple ideas, it is not confined barely to observation, and what offers itself from without; it can, by its own power, put together those ideas it has, and make new complex ones, which it never received so united.

Are either modes, substances, or relations

§3．Complex ideas, however compounded and decompounded, though their number be infinite, and the variety endless, wherewith they fill, and entertain the thoughts of men; yet, I think, they may be all reduced under these three heads.

1. Modes.

2. Substances.

3. Relations.

Modes

§4．First, modes I call such complex ideas, which however compounded, contain not in them the supposition of subsisting by themselves, but are considered as dependences on, or affections of substances; such are the ideas signified by the words triangle, gratitude, murder, etc. And if in this I use the word mode, in somewhat a different sense from its ordinary signification, I beg pardon; it being unavoidable in discourses, differing from the ordinary received notions, either to make new words, or to use old words in somewhat a new signification, the latter whereof, in our present case, is perhaps the more tolerable of the two.

Simple and mixed modes

§5．Of these modes, there are two sorts, which deserve distinct consideration. First, there are some which are only variations, or different combinations of the same simple idea, without the mixture of any other, as a dozen, or score; which are nothing but the ideas of so many distinct units added together, and these I call simple modes, as being contained within the bounds of one simple idea. Secondly, there are others compounded of simple ideas of several kinds, put together to make one complex one; v. g. beauty, consisting of a certain composition of colour and figure, causing delight in the beholder; theft, which being the concealed change of the possession of anything, without the consent of the proprietor, contains, as is visible, a combination of several ideas of several kinds; and these I call mixed modes.

Substances single or collective

§6．Secondly, the ideas of substances are such combinations of simple ideas, as are taken to represent distinct particular things subsisting by themselves; in which the supposed, or confused idea of substance, such as it is, is always the first and chief. Thus, if to substance be joined the simple idea of a certain dull whitish colour, with certain degrees of weight, hardness, ductility, and fusibility, we have the idea of lead; and a combination of the ideas of a certain sort of figure, with the powers of motion, thought, and reasoning, joined to substance, make the ordinary idea of a man. Now, of substances also, there are two sorts of ideas; one of single substances, as they exist separately, as of a man, or a sheep; the other of several of those put together as an army of men, or flock of sheep; which collective ideas of several substances thus put together, are as much each of them one single idea, as that of a man, or an unit.

Relation

§7．Thirdly, the last sort of complex ideas, is that we call relation, which consists in the consideration and comparing one idea with another: of these several kinds, we shall treat in their order.

The abstrusest ideas from the two sources

§8．If we will trace the progress of our minds, and with attention observe how it repeats, adds together, and unites its simple ideas received from sensation or reflection, it will lead us further than at first, perhaps, we should have imagined. And, I believe, we shall find, if we warily observe the originals of our notions, that even the most abstruse ideas, how remote soever they may seem from sense, or from any operation of our own minds, are yet only such, as the understanding frames to itself, by repeating and joining together ideas, that it had either from objects of sense, or from its own operations about them: so that those even large and abstract ideas, are derived from sensation, or reflection, being no other than what the mind, by the ordinary use of its own faculties, employed about ideas received from objects of sense, or from the operations it observes in itself about them, may, and does attain unto. This I shall endeavour to show in the ideas we have of space, time, and infinity, and some few other, that seem the most remote from those originals.

Of Modes of Pleasure and Pain

Pleasure and pain simple ideas

§1．Amongst the simple ideas, which we receive both from sensation and reflection, pain and pleasure are two very considerable ones. For as in the body, there is sensation barely in itself, or accompanied with pain or pleasure; so the thought, or perception of the mind is simply so, or else accompanied also with pleasure or pain, delight, or trouble, call it how you please. These, like other simple ideas, cannot be described, nor their names defined; the way of knowing them, is, as of the simple ideas of the senses, only by experience. For to define them by the presence of good or evil, is no otherwise to make them known to us, than by making us reflect on what we feel in ourselves, upon the several and various operations of good and evil upon our minds, as they are differently applied to, or considered by us.

Good and evil, what

§2．Things then are good or evil, only in reference to pleasure or pain. That we call good, which is apt to cause or increase pleasure, or diminish pain in us; or else to procure, or preserve us the possession of any other good, or absence of any evil. And on the contrary, we name that evil, which is apt to produce or increase any pain, or diminish any pleasure in us; or else to procure us any evil, or deprive us of any good. By pleasure and pain, I must be understood to mean of body or mind, as they are commonly distinguished; though in truth, they be only different constitutions of the mind, sometimes occasioned by disorder in the body, sometimes by thoughts of the mind.

Our passions moved by good and evil

§3．Pleasure and pain, and that which causes them, good and evil, are the hinges on which our passions turn: and if we reflect on ourselves, and observe how these, under various considerations, operate in us; what modifications or tempers of mind, what internal sensations (if I may so call them,) they produce in us, we may thence form to ourselves the ideas of our passions.

Love

§4．Thus anyone reflecting upon the thought he has of the delight, which any present, or absent thing is apt to produce in him, has the idea we call love. For when a man declares in autumn, when he is eating them, or in spring, when there are none, that he loves grapes, it is no more, but that the taste of grapes delights him; let an alteration of health or constitution destroy the delight of their taste, and he then can be said to love grapes no longer.

Hatred

§5．On the contrary, the thought of the pain, which anything present or absent is apt to produce in us, is what we call hatred. Were it my business here, to inquire any further than into the bare ideas of our passions, as they depend on different modifications of pleasure and pain, I should remark, that our love and hatred of inanimate insensible beings, is commonly founded on that pleasure and pain which we receive from their use and application any way to our senses, though with their destruction: but hatred or love, to beings capable of happiness or misery, is often the uneasiness or delight, which we find in ourselves arising from a consideration of their very being, or happiness. Thus the being and welfare of a man's children or friends, producing constant delight in him, he is said constantly to love them. But it suffices to note, that our ideas of love and hatred, are but the dispositions of the mind, in respect of pleasure and pain in general, however caused in us.

Desire

§6．The uneasiness a man finds in himself upon the absence ofanything, whose present enjoyment carries the idea of delight with it, is that we call desire, which is greater or less, as that uneasiness is more or less vehement. Where, by the by, it may perhaps be of some use to remark, that the chief if not only spur to human industry and action, is uneasiness. For whatever good is proposed, if its absence carries no displeasure nor pain with it; if a man be easy and content without it, there is no desire of it, nor endeavour after it; there is no more but a bare velleity, the term used to signify the lowest degree of desire, and that which is next to none at all, when there is so little uneasiness in the absence of anything, that it carries a man no further than some faint wishes for it, without any more effectual or vigorous use of the means to attain it. Desire also is stopped or abated by the opinion of the impossibility or unattainableness of the good proposed, as far as the uneasiness is cured or allayed by that consideration. This might carry our thoughts further, were it seasonable in this place.

Joy

§7．Joy is a delight of the mind, from the consideration of the present or assured approaching possession of a good; and we are then possessed of any good, when we have it so in our power, that we can use it when we please. Thus a man almost starved, has joy at the arrival of relief, even before he has the pleasure of using it: and a father, in whom the very well-being of his children causes delight, is always, as long as his children are in such a state, in the possession of that good; for he needs but to reflect on it to have that pleasure.

Sorrow

§8．Sorrow is uneasiness in the mind, upon the thought of a good lost, which might have been enjoyed longer; or the sense of a present evil.

Hope

§9．Hope is that pleasure in the mind, which everyone finds in himself, upon the thought of a profitable future enjoyment of a thing, which is apt to delight him.

Fear

§10．Fear is an uneasiness of the mind, upon the thought of future evil likely to befall us.

Despair

§11．Despair is the thought of the unattainableness of any good, which works differently in men's minds, sometimes producing uneasiness or pain, sometimes rest and indolency.

Anger

§12．Anger is uneasiness or discomposure of the mind, upon the receipt of any injury, with a present purpose of revenge.

Envy

§13．Envy is an uneasiness of mind, caused by the consideration of a good we desire, obtained by one, we think should not have had it before us.

What passions all men have

§14．These two last, envy and anger, not being caused by pain and pleasure simply in themselves, but having in them some mixed considerations of ourselves and others, are not therefore to be found in all men, because those other parts of valuing their merits, or intending revenge, is wanting in them: but all the rest terminated purely in pain and pleasure, are, I think, to be found in all men. For we love, desire, rejoice, and hope, only in respect of pleasure; we hate, fear, and grieve only in respect of pain ultimately: in fine, all these passions are moved by things, only as they appear to be the causes of pleasure and pain, or to have pleasure or pain some way or other annexed to them.Thus we extend our hatred usually to the subject, (at least if a sensible or voluntary agent,) which has produced pain in us, because the fear it leaves, is a constant pain: but we do not so constantly love what has done us good; because pleasure operates not so strongly on us, as pain; and because we are not so ready to have hope, it will do so again. But this by the by.

Pleasure and pain what

§15．By pleasure and pain, delight and uneasiness, I must all along be understood (as I have above intimated) to mean, not only bodily pain and pleasure, but whatsoever delight or uneasiness is felt by us, whether arising from any grateful, or unacceptable sensation or reflection.

§16．'Tis further to be considered, that in reference to the passions, the removal or lessening of a pain is considered, and operates as a pleasure: and the loss or diminishing of a pleasure, as a pain.

Shame

§17．The passions too have most of them in most persons operations on the body, and cause various changes in it: which not being always sensible, do not make a necessary part of the idea of each passion. For shame, which is an uneasiness of the mind, upon the thought of having done something, which is indecent, or will lessen the valued esteem, which others have for us, has not always blushing accompanying it.

These instances to show how our ideas of the passions are got from sensation and reflection

§18．I would not be mistaken here, as if I meant this as a discourse of the passions; they are many more than those I have here named: and those I have taken notice of, would each of them require a much larger, and more accurate discourse. I have only mentioned these here, as so many instances of modes of pleasure and pain resulting in our minds, from various considerations of good and evil. I might, perhaps, have instanced in other modes of pleasure and pain more simple than these, as the pain of hunger and thirst, and the pleasure of eating and drinking to remove them; the pain of tender eyes, and the pleasure of music; pain from captious uninstructive wrangling, and the pleasure of rational conversation with a friend, or of well directed study in the search and discovery of truth. But the passions being of much more concernment to us, I rather made choice to instance in them, and show how the ideas we have of them, are derived from sensation and reflection.

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Of Adequate and Inadequate Ideas

Adequate ideas, are such as perfectly represent their archetypes

§1．Of our real ideas some are adequate, and some are inadequate. Those I call adequate, which perfectly represent those archetypes which the mind supposes them taken from; which it intends them to stand for, and to which it refers them. Inadequate ideas are such, which are but a partial, or incomplete representation of those archetypes to which they are referred. Upon which account it is plain.

Simple ideas all adequate

§2．First, that all our simple ideas are adequate. Because being nothing but the effects of certain powers in things, fitted and ordained by GOD, to produce such sensations in us, they cannot but be correspondent and adequate to those powers: and we are sure they agree to the reality of things. For if sugar produce in us the ideas which we call whiteness, and sweetness, we are sure there is a power in sugar to produce those ideas in our minds, or else they could not have been produced by it. And so each sensation answering the power that operates on any of our senses, the idea so produced, is a real idea, (and not a fiction of the mind, which has no power to produce any simple idea;) and cannot but be adequate, since it ought only to answer that power: and so all simple ideas are adequate. 'Tis true, the things producing in us these simple ideas, are but few of them denominated by us, as if they were only the causes of them; but as if those ideas were real beings in them. For though fire be called painful to the touch, whereby is signified the power of producing in us the idea of pain; yet it is denominated also light, and hot; as if light and heat, were really something in the fire, more than a power to excite these ideas in us; and therefore are called qualities in, or of the fire. But these being nothing, in truth, but powers to excite such ideas in us, I must, in that sense, be understood, when I speak of secondary qualities, as being in things; or of their ideas, as being in the objects that excite them in us. Such ways of speaking, though accommodated to the vulgar notions, without which one cannot be well understood; yet truly signify nothing, but those powers which are in things, to excite certain sensations or ideas in us. Since were there no fit organs to receive the impressions fire makes on the sight and touch; nor a mind joined to those organs to receive the ideas of light and heat, by those impressions from the fire, or the Sun, there would yet be no more light or heat in the world, than there would be pain, if there were no sensible creature to feel it, though the Sun should continue just as it is now, and Mount Ætna flame higher than ever it did. Solidity, and extension, and the termination of it, figure, with motion and rest, whereof we have the ideas, would be really in the world as they are, whether there were any sensible being to perceive them, or no: and therefore those we have reason to look on, as the real modifications of matter; and such as are the exciting causes of all our various sensations from bodies. But this being an inquiry not belonging to this place, I shall enter no further into it, but proceed to show, what complex ideas are adequate, and what not.

Modes are all adequate

§3．Secondly, our complex ideas of modes, being voluntary collections of simple ideas, which the mind puts together, without reference to any real archetypes, or standing patterns, existing anywhere, are and cannot but be adequate ideas. Because they not being intended for copies of things really existing, but for archetypes made by the mind, to rank and denominate things by, cannot want anything; they having each of them that combination of ideas, and thereby that perfection which the mind intended they should: so that the mind acquiesces in them, and can find nothing wanting. Thus by having the idea of a figure, with three sides meeting at three angles, I have a complete idea, wherein I require nothing else to make it perfect. That the mind is satisfied with the perfection of this its idea, is plain in that it does not conceive, that any understanding hath, or can have a more complete or perfect idea of that thing it signifies by the word triangle, supposing it to exist, than itself has in that complex idea of three sides, and three angles; in which is contained all that is, or can be essential to it, or necessary to complete it, wherever or however it exists. But in our ideas of substances, it is otherwise. For there desiring to copy things as they really do exist; and to represent to ourselves that constitution on which all their properties depend, we perceive our ideas attain not that perfection we intend: we find they still want something we should be glad were in them; and so are all inadequate. But mixed modes and relations, being archetypes without patterns, and so having nothing to represent but themselves, cannot but be adequate, everything being so to itself. He that at first put together the idea of danger perceived, absence of disorder from fear, sedate consideration of what was justly to be done, and executing of that without disturbance, or being deterred by the danger of it, had certainly in his mind that complex idea made up of that combination, and intending it to be nothing else, but what it is; nor to have in it any other simple ideas, but what it hath, it could not also but be an adequate idea: and laying this up in his memory, with the name courage annexed to it, to signify it to others, and denominate from thence any action he should observe to agree with it, had thereby a standard to measure and denominate actions by, as they agreed to it. This idea thus made, and laid up for a pattern, must necessarily be adequate, being referred to nothing else but itself, nor made by any other original, but the good-liking and will of him that first made this combination.

Modes in reference to settled names, may be inadequate

§4．Indeed, another coming after, and in conversation learning from him the word courage, may make an idea, to which he gives that name courage, different from what the first author applied it to, and has in his mind, when he uses it. And in this case, if he designs, that his idea in thinking, should be conformable to the other's idea, as the name he uses in speaking is conformable in sound to his, from whom he learned it, his idea may be very wrong and inadequate. Because in this case, making the other man's idea the pattern of his idea in thinking, as the other man's word, or sound, is the pattern of his in speaking, his idea is so far defective and inadequate, as it is distant from the archetype and pattern he refers it to, and intends to express and signify by the name he uses for it; which name he would have to be a sign of the other man's idea, (to which, in its proper use, it is primarily annexed,) and of his own, as agreeing to it: to which, if his own does not exactly correspond, it is faulty and inadequate.

§5．Therefore these complex ideas of modes, when they are referred by the mind, and intended to correspond to the ideas in the mind of some other intelligent being, expressed by the names we apply to them, they may be very deficient, wrong, and inadequate. Because they agree not to that, which the mind designs to be their archetype and pattern: in which respect only, any idea of modes can be wrong, imperfect, or inadequate. And on this account, our ideas of mixed modes are the most liable to be faulty of any other; but this refers more to proper speaking, than knowing right.

Ideas of substances, as referred to real essences, not adequate

§6．Thirdly, what ideas we have of substances, I have above showed: now, those ideas have in the mind a double reference: 1. Sometimes they are referred to a supposed real essence of each species of things. 2. Sometimes they are only designed to be pictures and representations in the mind of things that do exist by ideas of those qualities that are discoverable in them. In both which ways, these copies of those originals and archetypes, are imperfect and inadequate.

First, it is usual for men to make the names of substances, stand for things, as supposed to have certain real essences, whereby they are of this or that species: and names standing for nothing but the ideas that are in men's minds, they must consequently refer their ideas to such real essences, as to their archetypes. That men (especially such as have been bred up in the learning taught in this part of the world) do suppose certain specific essences of substances, which each individual, in its several kinds, is made conformable to, and partakes of, is so far from needing proof, that it will be thought strange, if anyone should do otherwise. And thus they ordinarily apply the specific names, they rank particular substances under, to things, as distinguished by such specific real essences. Who is there almost, who would not take it amiss, if it should be doubted, whether he called himself man, with any other meaning, than as having the real essence of a man? And yet if you demand, what those real essences are, 'tis plain men are ignorant, and know them not. From whence it follows, that the ideas they have in their minds, being referred to real essences, as to archetypes which are unknown, must be so far from being adequate, that they cannot be supposed to be any representation of them at all. The complex ideas we have of substances, are, as it has been shown, certain collections of simple ideas that have been observed or supposed constantly to exist together. But such a complex idea cannot be the real essence of any substance; for then the properties we discover in that body, would depend on that complex idea, and be deducible from it, and their necessary connexion with it be known; as all properties of a triangle depend on, and as far as they are discoverable, are deducible from the complex idea of three lines, including a space. But it is plain, that in our complex ideas of substances, are not contained such ideas, on which all the other qualities, that are to be found in them, do depend. The common idea men have of iron, is a body of a certain colour, weight, and hardness; and a property that they look on as belonging to it, is malleableness. But yet this property has no necessary connexion with that complex idea, or any part of it: and there is no more reason to think, that malleableness depends on that colour, weight, and hardness, than that that colour, or that weight depends on its malleableness. And yet, though we know nothing of these real essences, there is nothing more ordinary, than that men should attribute the sorts of things to such essences. The particular parcel of matter, which makes the ring I have on my finger, is forwardly, by most men, supposed to have a real essence, whereby it is gold; and from whence those qualities flow, which I find in it, viz. its peculiar colour, weight, hardness, fusibility, fixedness, and change of colour upon a slight touch of mercury, etc. This essence, from which all these properties flow, when I inquire into it, and search after it, I plainly perceive I cannot discover: the furthest I can go, is only to presume, that it being nothing but body, its real essence, or internal constitution, on which these qualities depend, can be nothing but the figure, size, and connexion of its solid parts; of neither of which, I having any distinct perception at all, I can have no idea of its essence, which is the cause that it has that particular shining yellowness; a greater weight than anything I know of the same bulk, and a fitness to have its colour changed by the touch of quicksilver. If anyone will say, that the real essence, and internal constitution, on which these properties depend, is not the figure, size, and arrangement or connexion of its solid parts, but something else, called its particular form; I am further from having any idea of its real essence, than I was before; for I have an idea of figure, size, and situation of solid parts in general, though I have none of the particular figure, size, or putting together of parts, whereby the qualities above-mentioned are produced; which qualities I find in that particular parcel of matter that is on my finger, and not in another parcel of matter, with which I cut the pen I write with. But when I am told, that something besides the figure, size, and posture of the solid parts of that body, is its essence, something called substantial form; of that, I confess, I have no idea at all, but only of the sound form; which is far enough from an idea of its real essence, or constitution. The like ignorance as I have of the real essence of this particular substance, I have also of the real essence of all other natural ones: of which essences, I confess, I have no distinct ideas at all; and I am apt to suppose others, when they examine their own knowledge, will find in themselves, in this one point, the same sort of ignorance.

§7．Now then, when men apply to this particular parcel of matter on my finger, a general name already in use, and denominate it gold, do they not ordinarily, or are they not understood to give it that name as belonging to a particular species of bodies, having a real internal essence; by having of which essence, this particular substance comes to be of that species, and to be called by that name? If it be so, as it is plain it is, the name, by which things are marked, as having that essence, must be referred primarily to that essence; and consequently the idea to which that name is given, must be referred also to that essence, and be intended to represent it. Which essence, since they, who so use the names, know not, their ideas of substances must be all inadequatein that respect, as not containing in them that real essence which the mind intends they should.

Ideas of substances, as collections of their qualities, are all inadequate

§8．Secondly, those who neglecting that useless supposition of unknown real essences, whereby they are distinguished, endeavour to copy the substances that exist in the world, by putting together the ideas of those sensible qualities which are found co-existing in them, though they come much nearer a likeness of them, than those who imagine they know not what real specific essences: yet they arrive not at perfectly adequate ideas of those substances they would thus copy into their minds; nor do those copies exactly and fully contain all that is to be found in their archetypes. Because those qualities, and powers of substances, whereof we make their complex ideas, are so many and various, that no man's complex idea contains them all. That our abstract ideas of substances, do not contain in them all the simple ideas that are united in the things themselves, is evident, in that men do rarely put into their complex idea of any substance, all the simple ideas they do know to exist in it. Because endeavouring to make the signification of their specific names as clear, and as little cumbersome as they can, they make their specific ideas of the sorts of substances, for the most part, of a few of those simple ideas which are to be found in them: But these having no original precedency, or right to be put in, and make the specific idea more than others that are left out, 'tis plain, that both these ways, our ideas of substances are deficient and inadequate. The simple ideas, whereof we make our complex ones of substances, are all of them (bating only the figure and bulk of some sorts) powers, which being relations to other substances, we can never be sure that we know all the powers that are in any one body, till we have tried what changes it is fitted to give to, or receive from other substances, in their several ways of application: which being impossible to be tried upon any one body, much less upon all, it is impossible we should have adequate ideas of any substance, made up of a collection of all its properties.

§9．Whosoever first light on a parcel of that sort of substance we denote by the word gold, could not rationally take the bulk and figure he observed in that lump, to depend on its real essence or internal constitution. Therefore those never went into his idea of that species of body; but its peculiar colour, perhaps, and weight, were the first he abstracted from it, to make the complex idea of that species. Which both are but powers; the one to affect our eyes after such a manner, and to produce in us that idea we call yellow; and the other to force upwards any other body of equal bulk, they being put into a pair of equal scales, one against another. Another, perhaps, added to these, the ideas of fusibility and fixedness, two other passive powers, in relation to the operation of fire upon it; another, its ductility and solubility in aqua regia; two other powers, relating to the operation of other bodies, in changing its outward figure or separation of it into insensible parts. These, or part of these, put together, usually make the complex idea in men's minds, of that sort of body we call gold.

§10．But no one, who hath considered the properties of bodies in general, or this sort in particular, can doubt, that this, called gold, has infinite other properties, not contained in that complex idea. Some, who have examined this species more accurately, could, I believe, enumerate ten times as many properties in gold, all of them as inseparable from its internal constitution, as its colour, or weight: and 'tis probable, if anyone knew all the properties that are by divers men known of this metal, there would be an hundred times as many ideas go to the complex idea of gold, as any one man yet has in his; and yet, perhaps, that not be the thousandth part of what is to be discovered in it. The changes that that one body is apt to receive, and make in other bodies, upon a due application, exceeding far, not only what we know, but what we are apt to imagine. Which will not appear so much a paradox to anyone, who will but consider how far men are yet from knowing all the properties of that one, no very compound figure, a triangle, though it be no small number, that are already by mathematicians discovered of it.

§11．So that all our complex ideas of substances are imperfect and inadequate. Which would be so also in mathematical figures, if we were to have our complex ideas of them, only by collecting their properties in reference to other figures. How uncertain and imperfect would our ideas be of an ellipse, if we had no other idea of it, but some few of its properties? Whereas having in our plain idea, the whole essence of that figure, we from thence discover those properties, and demonstratively see how they flow, and are inseparable from it.

Simple ideas , and adequate

§12．Thus the mind has three sorts of abstract ideas, or nominal essences:

First, simple ideas, which are , or copies; but yet certainly adequate. Because being intended to express nothing but the power in things to produce in the mind such a sensation, that sensation, when it is produced, cannot but be the effect of that power. So the paper I write on, having the power, in the light, (I speak according to the common notion of light,) to produce in me the sensation which I call white, it cannot but be the effect of such a power, in something without the mind, since the mind has not the power to produce any such idea in itself, and being meant for nothing else but the effect of such a power; that simple idea is real and adequate: the sensation of white, in my mind, being the effect of that power, which is in the paper to produce it, is perfectly adequate to that power; or else, that power would produce a different idea.

Ideas of substances are , inadequate

§13．Secondly, the complex ideas of substances, are ectypes, copies too; but not perfect ones, not adequate: which is very evident to the mind, in that it plainly perceives, that whatever collection of simple ideas it makes of any substance that exists, it cannot be sure, that it exactly answers all that are in that substance: since not having tried all the operations of all other substances upon it, and found all the alterations it would receive from, or cause in other substances, it cannot have an exact adequate collection of all its active and passive capacities; and so not have an adequate complex idea of the powers of any substance existing, and its relations, which is that sort of complex idea of substances we have. And, after all, if we could have, and actually had, in our complex idea, an exact collection of all the secondary qualities or powers of any substance, we should not yet thereby have an idea of the essence of that thing. For since the powers or qualities, that are observable by us, are not the real essence of that substance, but depend on it, and flow from it, any collection whatsoever of these qualities, cannot be the real essence of that thing. Whereby it is plain, that our ideas of substances are not adequate; are not what the mind intends them to be. Besides, a man has no idea of substance in general, nor knows what substance is in itself.

Ideas of modes and relations, are archetypes, and cannot but be adequate

§14．Thirdly, complex ideas of modes and relations, are originals, and archetypes; are not copies, nor made after the pattern of any real existence, to which the mind intends them to be conformable, and exactly to answer. These being such collections of simple ideas, that the mind itself puts together, and such collections, that each of them contains in it precisely all that the mind intends it should, they are archetypes and essences of modes that may exist; and so are designed only for, and belong only to such modes, as when they do exist, have an exact conformity with those complex ideas. The ideas therefore of modes and relations, cannot but be adequate.

Of True and False Ideas

Truth and falsehood properly belong to propositions

§1．Though truth and falsehood belong, in propriety of speech, only to propositions; yet ideas are oftentimes termedtrue or false, (as what words are there, that are not used with great latitude, and with some deviation from their strict and proper significations?) Though, I think, that when ideas themselves are termed true or false, there is still some secret or tacit proposition, which is the foundation of that denomination: as we shall see, if we examine the particular occasions, wherein they come to be called true or false. In all which, we shall find some kind of affirmation, or negation, which is the reason of that denomination. For our ideas, being nothing but bare appearances or perceptions in our minds, cannot properly and simply in themselves be said to be true or false, no more than a single name of anything can be said to be true or false.

Metaphysical truth contains a tacit proposition

§2．Indeed, both ideas and words, may be said to be true in a metaphysical sense of the word truth, as all other things, that any way exist, are said to be true; i. e. really to be such as they exist. Though in things called true, even in that sense, there is, perhaps, a secret reference to our ideas, looked upon as the standards of that truth, which amounts to a mental proposition, though it be usually not taken notice of.

No idea, as an appearance in the mind, true or false

§3．But 'tis not in that metaphysical sense of truth, which we inquire here, when we examine, whether our ideas are capable of being true or false; but in the more ordinary acceptation of those words: and so I say, that the ideas in our minds, being only so many perceptions, or appearances there, none of them are false. The idea of a centaur having no more falsehood in it, when it appears in our minds, than the name centaur has falsehood in it, when it is pronounced by our mouths, or written on paper. For truth or falsehood, lying always in some affirmation, or negation, mental or verbal, our ideas are not capable, any of them, of being false, till the mind passes some judgement on them; that is, affirms or denies something of them.

Ideas referred to anything, may be true or false

§4．Whenever the mind refers any of its ideas to anything extraneous to them, they are then capable to be called true or false. Because the mind in such a reference, makes a tacit supposition of their conformity to that thing: which supposition, as it happens to be true or false; so the ideas themselves come to be denominated. The most usual cases wherein this happens, are these following:

Other men's ideas, real existence, and supposed real essences, are what men usually refer their ideas to

§5．First, when the mind supposes any idea it has, conformable to that in othermen's minds, called by the same common name; v. g. when the mind intends or judges its ideas of justice, temperance, religion, to be the same, with what other men give those names to.

Secondly, when the mind supposes any idea it has in itself, to be conformable to some real existence. Thus the two ideas, of a man, and a centaur, supposed to be the ideas of real substances, are the one true, and the other false; the one having a conformity to what has really existed; the other not.

Thirdly, when the mind refers any of its ideas to that real constitution, and essence of anything, whereon all its properties depend: and thus the greatest part, if not all our ideas of substances, are false.

The cause of such references

§6．These suppositions, the mind is very apt tacitly to make concerning its own ideas. But yet, if we will examine it, we shall find it is chiefly, if not only, concerning its abstract complex ideas. For the natural tendency of the mind being towards knowledge; and finding that, if it should proceed by, and dwell upon only particular things, its progress would be very slow, and its work endless: Therefore to shorten its way to knowledge, and make each perception the more comprehensive; the first thing it does, as the foundation of the easier enlarging its knowledge, either by contemplation of the things themselves, that it would know or conference with others about them, is to bind them into bundles, and rank them so into sorts, that what knowledge it gets of any of them, it may there by with assurance extend to all of that sort; and so advance by larger steps in that, which is its great business, knowledge. This, as I have elsewhere showed, is the reason why we collect things under comprehensive ideas, with names annexed to them, into genera and species, i. e. into kinds and sorts.

§7．If therefore we will warily attend to the motions of the mind, and observe what course it usually takes in its way to knowledge, we shall, I think, find, that the mind having got any idea, which it thinks it may have use of, either in contemplation or discourse, the first thing it does, is to abstract it, and then get a name to it; and so lay it up in its storehouse, the memory, as containing the essence of a sort of things, of which that name is always to be the mark. Hence it is, that we may often observe, that when anyone sees a new thing of a kind that he knows not, he presently asks what it is, meaning by that inquiry, nothing but the name. As if the name carried with it the knowledge of the species, or the essence of it, where of it is indeed used as the mark, and is generally supposed annexed to it.

§8．But this abstract idea being something in the mind between the thing that exists, and the name that is given to it; it is in our ideas, that both the rightness of our knowledge, and the propriety or intelligibleness of our speaking, consists. And hence it is, that men are so. forward to suppose, that the abstract ideas they have in their minds, are such as agree to the things existing without them, to which they are referred; and are the same also, to which the names they give them, do, by the use and propriety of that language belong. For without this double conformity of their ideas, they find they should both think amiss of things in themselves, and talk of them unintelligibly to others.

Simple ideas may be false, in reference to others of the samename, but are least liable to be so

§9．First then, I say, that when the truth of our ideas is judged of, by the conformity they have to the ideas which other men have, and commonly signify by the same name, they may be any of them false. But yet simple ideas are least of all liable to be so mistaken. Because a man by his senses, and every day's observation, may easily satisfy himself what the simple ideas are, which their several names that are in common use stand for, they being but few in number, and such, as if he doubts or mistakes in, he may easily rectify by the objects they are to be found in. Therefore it is seldom, that anyone mistakes in his names of simple ideas; or applies the name red, to the idea of green; or the name sweet, to the idea bitter: much less are men apt to confound the names of ideas, belonging to different senses; and call a colour, by the name of a taste, etc. whereby it is evident, that the simple ideas they call by any name, are commonly the same that others have and mean, when they use the same names.

Ideas of mixed modes most liable to be false in this sense

§10．Complex ideas are much more liable to be false in this respect; and the complex ideas of mixed modes, much more than those of substances: because in substances, (especially those which the common and unborrowed names of any language are applied to) some remarkable sensible qualities, serving ordinarily to distinguish one sort from another, easily preserve those, who take any care in the use of their words, from applying them to sorts of substances to which they do not at all belong. But in mixed modes, we are much more uncertain, it being not so easy to determine of several actions, whether they are to be called justice, or cruelty; liberality, or prodigality. And so in referring our ideas to those of other men, called by the same names, ours may be false; and the idea in our minds, which we express by the word justice, may, perhaps, be that which ought to have another name.

Or at least to be thought false

§11．But whether or no our ideas of mixed modes are more liable than any sort, to be different from those of other men, which are marked by the same names: this at least is certain, that this sort of falsehood is much more familiarly attributed to our ideas of mixed modes, than to any other. When a man is thought to have a false idea of justice, or gratitude, or glory, it is for no other reason, but that his agrees not with the ideas which each of those names are the signs of in other men.

And why

§12．The reason whereof seems to me to be this, that the abstract ideas of mixed modes, being men's voluntary combinations of such a precise collection of simple ideas; and so the essence of each species being made by men alone, whereof we have no other sensible standard existing anywhere, but the name itself, or the definition of that name: we have nothing else to refer these our ideas of mixed modes to, as a standard, to which we would conform them, but the ideas of those, who are thought to use those names in their most proper significations; and so, as our ideas conform, or differ from them, they pass for true or false. And thus much concerning the truth and falsehood of our ideas, in reference to their names.

As referred to real existences, none of our ideas can be false, but those of substances

§13．Secondly, as to the truth and falsehood of our ideas, in reference to the real existence of things, when that is made the standard of their truth, none of them can be termed false, but only our complex ideas of substances.

First, simple ideas in this sense not false, and why

§14．First, our simple ideas being barely such perceptions, as God has fitted us to receive, and given power to external objects to produce in us by established laws and ways, suitable to his wisdom and goodness, though incomprehensible to us, their truth consists in nothing else but in such appearances as are produced in us, and must be suitable to those powers he has placed in external objects, or else they could not be produced in us: and thus answering those powers, they are what they should be, true ideas. Nor do they become liable to any imputation of falsehood, if the mind (as in most men I believe it does) judges these ideas to be in the things themselves. For God, in his wisdom, having set them as marks of distinction in things, whereby we may be able to discern one thing from another, and so choose any of them for our uses, as we have occasion, it alters not the nature of our simple idea, whether we think, that the idea of blue, be in the violet itself, or in our mind only; and only the power of producing it by the texture of its parts, reflecting the particles of light, after a certain manner, to be in the violet itself. For that texture in the object, by a regular and constant operation, producing the same idea of blue in us, it serves us to distinguish, by our eyes, that from any other thing, whether that distinguishing mark, as it is really in the violet, be only a peculiar texture of parts, or else that very colour, the idea whereof (which is in us) is the exact resemblance. And it is equally from that appearance to be denominated blue, whether it be that real colour, or only a peculiar texture in it, that causes in us that idea: since the name blue notes properly nothing, but that mark of distinction that is in a violet, discernible only by our eyes, whatever it consists in, that being beyond our capacities distinctly to know, and, perhaps, would be of less use to us, if we had faculties to discern.

Though one man's idea of blue should be different from another's

§15．Neither would it carry any imputation of falsehood to our simple ideas, if by the different structure of our organs, it were so ordered, that the same object should produce in several men's minds different ideas at the same time; v. g. if the idea that a violet produced in one man's mind by his eyes, were the same that a marigold produced in another man's, and vice versâ. For since this could never be known; because one man's mind could not pass into another man's body, to perceive what appearances were produced by those organs; neither the ideas hereby, nor the names would be at all confounded, or any falsehood be in either. For all things that had the texture of a violet, producing constantly the idea which he called blue; and those which had the texture of a marigold, producing constantly the idea which he as constantly called yellow, whatever those appearances were in his mind, he would be able as regularly to distinguish things for his use by those appearances, and understand and signify those distinctions, marked by the names blue and yellow, as if the appearances, or ideas in his mind, received from those two flowers, were exactly the same with the ideas in other men's minds. I am nevertheless very apt to think, that the sensible ideas produced by any object in different men's minds, are most commonly very near and undiscernibly alike. For which opinion, I think, there might be many reasons offered: but that being besides my present business, I shall not trouble my reader with them; but only mind him, that the contrary supposition, if it could be proved, is of little use, either for the improvement of our knowledge, or conveniency of life; and so we need not trouble ourselves to examine it.

First, simple ideas in this sense not false, and why

§16．From what has been said concerning our simple ideas, I think it evident, that our simple ideas can none of them be false, in respect of things existing without us. For the truth of these appearances, or perceptions in our minds, consisting, as has been said, only in their being answerable to the powers in external objects, to produce by our senses such appearances in us, and each of them being in the mind, such as it is, suitable to the power that produced it, and which alone it represents, it cannot upon that account, or as referred to such a pattern, be false. Blue or yellow, bitter or sweet, can never be false ideas, these perceptions in the mind are just such as they are there, answering the powers appointed by God to produce them; and so are truly what they are, and are intended to be. Indeed the names may be misapplied; but that in this respect, makes no falsehood in the ideas: as if a man ignorant in the English tongue, should call purple, scarlet.

Secondly, modes not false

§17．Secondly, neither can our complex ideas of modes, in reference to the essence of anything really existing, be false. Because whatever complex idea I have of any mode, it hath no reference to any pattern existing, and made by nature: it is not supposed to contain in it any other ideas, than what it hath; nor to represent anything, but such a complication of ideas as it does. Thus when I have the idea of such an action of a man, who forbears to afford himself such meat, drink, and clothing, and other conveniencies of life, as his riches and estate will be sufficient to supply, and his station requires, I have no false idea; but such an one as represents an action, either as I find or imagine it; and so is capable of neither truth, or falsehood. But when I give the name frugality, or virtue, to this action, then it may be called a false idea, if thereby it be supposed to agree with that idea, to which, in propriety of speech, the name of frugality doth belong; or to be conformable to that law, which is the standard of virtue and vice.

Thirdly, ideas of substances when false

§18．Thirdly, our complex ideas of substances, being all referred to patterns in things themselves, may be false. That they are all false, when looked upon as the representations of the unknown essences of things, is so evident, that there needs nothing to be said of it. I shall therefore pass over that chimerical supposition, and consider them as collections of simple ideas in the mind, taken from combinations of simple ideas existing together constantly in things, of which patterns they are the supposed copies: and in this reference of them, to the existence of things, they are false ideas. 1. When they put together simple ideas, which in the real existence of things have no union; as when to the shape and size that exist together in a horse, is joined, in the same complex idea, the power of barking like dog: which three ideas, however put together into one in the mind, were never united in nature; and this therefore may be called a false idea of an horse. 2. Ideas of substances are, in this respect, also false, when from any collection of simple ideas that do always exist together, there is separated, by a direct negation, any other simple idea which is constantly joined with them. Thus if to extension, solidity, fusibility, the peculiar weightiness, and yellow colour of gold, anyone join in his thoughts the negation of a greater degree of fixedness than is in lead or copper, he may be said to have a false complex idea, as well as when he joins to those other simple ones, the idea of perfect absolute fixedness. For either way, the complex idea of gold being made up of such simple ones, as have no union in nature, may be termed false. But if he leave out of this his complex idea, that of fixedness quite, without either actually joining to, or separating of it from the rest in his mind, it is, I think, to be looked on, as an inadequate and imperfect idea, rather than a false one; since though it contains not all the simple ideas that are united in nature, yet it puts none together but what do really exist together.

Truth or falsehood always supposes affirmation or negation

§19．Though in compliance with the ordinary way of speaking, I have showed in what sense, and upon what ground our ideas may be sometimes called true, or false; yet if we will look a little nearer into the matter in all cases, where any idea is called true, or false, it is from some judgement that the mind makes, or is supposed to make, that is true or false. For truth or falsehood, being never without some affirmation, or negation, express or tacit, it is not to be found, but where signs are joined or separated, according to the agreement, or disagreement of the things they stand for. The signs we chiefly use, are either ideas, or words, wherewith we make either mental or verbal propositions. Truth lies in so joining or separating these representatives, as the things they stand for, do in themselves, agree or disagree; and falsehood in the contrary, as shall be more fully showed hereafter.

Ideas in themselves neither true nor false

§20．Any idea then which we have in our minds, whether conformable or not to the existence of things, or to any ideas in the minds of other men, cannot properly for this alone be called false. For these representations, if they have nothing in them, but what is really existing in things without, cannot be thought false, being exact representations of something: nor yet if they have anything in them, differing from the reality of things, can they properly be said to be false representations, or ideas of things, they do not represent. But the mistake and falsehood is,

But are false, first, when judged agreeable to another man's idea without being so

§21． First, when the mind having any idea, it judges and concludes it the same that is in other men's minds, signified by the same name; or that it is conformable to the ordinary received signification or definition of that word, when indeed it is not: which is the most usual mistake in mixed modes, though other ideas also are liable to it.

Secondly, when judged to agree to real existence, when they do not

§22．Secondly, when it having a complex idea made up of such a collection of simple ones, as nature never puts together, it judges it to agree to a species of creatures really existing; as when it joins the weight of tin, to the colour, fusibility, and fixedness of gold.

Thirdly, when judged adequate, without being so

§23．Thirdly, when in its complex idea, it has united a certain number of simple ideas, that do really exist together in some sorts of creatures, but has also left out others, as much inseparable, it judges this to be a perfect complete idea, of a sort of things which really it is not; v. g. having joined the ideas of substance, yellow, malleable, most heavy, and fusible, it takes that complex idea to be the complete idea of gold, when yet its peculiar fixedness and solubility in aqua regia, are as inseparable from those other ideas or qualities of that body, as they are one from another.

Fourthly, when judged to represent the real essence

§24．Fourthly, the mistake is yet greater, when I judge, that this complex idea contains in it the real essence of any body existing; when at least it contains but some few of those properties which flow from its real essence and constitution. I say, only some few of those properties; for those properties consisting mostly in the active and passive powers, it has, in reference to other things, all that are vulgarly known of any one body, and of which the complex idea of that kind of things is usually made, are but a very few, in comparison of what a man, that has several ways tried and examined it, knows of that one sort of things; and all that the most expert man knows, are but few, in comparison of what are really in that body, and depend on its internal or essential constitution. The essence of a triangle, lies in a very little compass, consists in a very few ideas; three lines including a space, make up that essence: but the properties that flow from this essence, are more than can be easily known, or enumerated. So I imagine it is in substances, their real essences lie in a little compass; though the properties flowing from that internal constitution, are endless.

Ideas when false

§25．To conclude, a man having no notion of anything without him, but by the idea he has of it in his mind, (which idea he has a power to call by what name he pleases) he may, indeed, make an idea neither answering the reality of things, nor agreeing to the ideas commonly signified by other people's words; but cannot make a wrong or false idea of a thing which is no otherwise known to him, but by the idea he has of it. V. g. When I frame an idea of the legs, arms, and body of a man, and join to this a horse's head and neck, I do not make a false idea of anything; because it represents nothing without me. But when I call it a man, or Tartar,and imagine it either to represent some real being without me, or to be the same idea that others call by the same name; in either of these cases, I may err. And upon this account it is, that it comes to be termed a false idea; though, indeed, the falsehood lies not in the idea, but in that tacit mental proposition, wherein a conformity and resemblance is attributed to it, which it has not. But yet, if having framed such an idea in my mind, without thinking, either that existence, or the name man or Tartar, belongs to it, I will call it man or Tartar, I may be justly thought fantastical in the naming; but not erroneous in my judgement; nor the idea any way false.

More properly to be called right or wrong

§26．Upon the whole matter, I think, that our ideas, as they are considered by the mind, either in reference to the proper signification of their names, or in reference to the reality of things, may very fitly be called right or wrong ideas, according as they agree or disagree to those patterns to which they are referred. But if anyone had rather call them true or false, 'tis fit he use a liberty, which everyone has, to call things by those names he thinks best; though in propriety of speech, truth or falsehood, will, I think, scarce agree to them, but as they, some way or other, virtually contain in them some mental proposition. The ideas that are in a man's mind, simply considered, cannot be wrong, unless complex ones, wherein inconsistent parts are jumbled together. All other ideas are in themselves right; and the knowledge about them, right and true knowledge: but when we come to refer them to any thing, as to their patterns and archetypes, then they are capable of being wrong, as far as they disagree with such archetypes.

Of Words

Of Words or Language in General

Man fitted to form articulate sounds

§1．God having designed man for a sociable creature, made him not only with an inclination, and under a necessity to have fellowship with those of his own kind; but furnished him also with language, which was to be the great instrument, and common tie of society. Man therefore had by nature his organs so fashioned, as to be fit to frame articulate sounds, which we call words. But this was not enough to produce language; for parrots, and several other birds, will be taught to make articulate sounds distinct enough, which yet, by no means, are capable of language.

To make them signs of ideas

§2．Besides articulate sounds therefore, it was further necessary, that he should be able to use these sounds, as signs of internal conceptions; and to make them stand as marks for the ideas within his own mind, whereby they might be made known to others, and the thoughts of men's minds be conveyed from one to another.

To make general signs

§3．But neither was this sufficient to make words so useful as they ought to be. It is not enough for the perfection of language, that sounds can be made signs of ideas, unless those signs can be so made use of, as to comprehend several particular things: for the multiplication of words would have perplexed their use, had every particular thing need of a distinct name to be signified by. To remedy this inconvenience, language had yet a further improvement in the use of general terms, whereby one word was made to mark a multitude of particular existences: which advantageous use of sounds was obtained only by the difference of the ideas they were made signs of. Those names becoming general, which are made to stand for general ideas, and those remaining particular, where the ideas they are used for are particular.

§4．Besides these names which stand for ideas, there be other words which men make use of, not to signify any idea, but the want or absence of some ideas simple or complex, or all ideas together; such as are the nihil in Latin, and in English, ignorance and barrenness. All which negative or privative words, cannot be said properly to belong to, or signify no ideas: for then they would be perfectly insignificant sounds; but they relate to positive ideas, and signify their absence.

Words ultimately derived from such as signify sensible ideas

§5．It may also lead us a little towards the original of all our notions and knowledge, if we remark, how great a dependence our words have on common sensible ideas; and how those, which are made use of to stand for actions and notions quite removed from sense, have their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are transferred to more abstruse significations, and made to stand for ideas that come not under the cognizance of our senses; v. g. to imagine, apprehend, comprehend, adhere, conceive, instil, disgust, disturbance, tranquillity, etc. are all words taken from the operations of sensible things, and applied to certain modes of thinking. Spirit, in its primary signification, is breath; angel, a messenger: and I doubt not, but if we could trace them to their sources, we should find, in all languages, the names, which stand for things that fall not under our senses, to have had their first rise from sensible ideas. By which we may give some kind of guess, what kind of notions they were, and whence derived, which filled their minds, who were the first beginners of languages; and how nature, even in the naming of things, unawares suggested to men the originals and principles of all their knowledge: whilst, to give names, that might make known to others any operations they felt in themselves, or any other ideas, that came not under their senses, they were fain to borrow words from ordinary known ideas of sensation, by that means to make others the more easily to conceive those operations they experimented in themselves, which made no outward sensible appearances; and then when they had got known and agreed names, to signify those internal operations of their own minds, they were sufficiently furnished to make known by words, all their other ideas; since they could consist of nothing, but either of outward sensible perceptions, or of the inward operations of their minds about them; we having, as has been proved, no ideas at all, but what originally come either from sensible objects without, or what we feel within ourselves, from the inward workings of our own spirits, which we are conscious to ourselves of within.

Distribution

§6．But to understand better the use and force of language, as subservient to instruction and knowledge, it will be convenient to consider:

First, to what it is that names, in the use of language, are immediately applied.

Secondly, since all (except proper) names are general, and so stand not particularly for this or that single thing; but for sorts and ranks of things, it will be necessary to consider, in the next place, what the sorts and kinds, or, if you rather like the Latin names, what the species and genera of things are; wherein they consist; and how they come to be made. These being (as they ought) well looked into, we shall the better come to find the right use of words; the natural advantages and defects of language; and the remedies that ought to be used, to avoid the inconveniencies of obscurity or uncertainty in the signification of words, without which, it is impossible to discourse with any clearness, or order, concerning knowledge: which being conversant about propositions, and those most commonly universal ones, has greater connexion with words, than perhaps is suspected.

These considerations therefore, shall be the matter of the following chapters.

Of the Imperfection of Words

Words are used for recording and communicating our thoughts

§1．From what has been said in the foregoing chapters, it is easy to perceive, what imperfection there is in language, and how the very nature of words, makes it almost unavoidable, for many of them to be doubtful and uncertain in their significations. To examine the perfection, or imperfection of words, it is necessary first to consider their use and end: for as they are more or less fitted to attain that, so are they more or less perfect. We have, in the former part of this discourse, often, upon occasion, mentioned a double use of words.

First, one for the recording of our own thoughts.

Secondly, the other for the communicating of our thoughts to others.

Any words will serve for recording

§2．As to the first of these, for the recording our own thoughts for the help of our own memories, whereby, as it were, we talk to ourselves, any words will serve the turn. For since sounds are voluntary and indifferent signs of any ideas, a man may use what words he pleases, to signify his own ideas to himself: and there will be no imperfection in them, if he constantly use the same sign for the same idea: for then he cannot fail of having his meaning understood, wherein consists the right use and perfection of language.

Communication by words civil or philosophical

§3．Secondly, As to communication of words, that too has a double use.

I. Civil.

II. Philosophical.

First, By their civil use, I mean such a communication of thoughts and ideas by words, as may serve for the upholding common conversation and commerce, about the ordinary affairs and conveniencies of civil life, in the societies of men one amongst another.

Secondly, by the philosophical use of words, I mean such an use of them, as may serve to convey the precise notions of things, and to express, in general propositions, certain and undoubted truths, which the mind may rest upon, and be satisfied with, in its search after true knowledge. These two uses are very distinct; and a great deal less exactness will serve in the one, than in the other, as we shall see in what follows.

The imperfections of words is the doubtfulness of their signification

§4．The chief end of language in communication being to be understood, words serve not well for that end, neither in civil, nor philosophical discourse, when any word does not excite in the hearer, the same idea which it stands for in the mind of the speaker. Now since sounds have no natural connexion with our ideas, but have all their signification from the arbitrary imposition of men, the doubtfulness and uncertainty of their signification, which is the imperfection we here are speaking of, has its cause more in the ideas they stand for, than in any incapacity there is in one sound, more than in another, to signify any idea: for in that regard, they are all equally perfect.

That then which makes doubtfulness and uncertainty in the signification of some more than other words, is the difference of ideas they stand for.

Causes of their imperfection

§5．Words having naturally no signification, the idea which each stands for, must be learned and retained by those, who would exchange thoughts, and hold intelligible discourse with others, in any language. But this is hardest to be done, where, First, the ideas they stand for, are very complex, and made up of a great number of ideas put together.

Secondly, where the ideas they stand for, have no certain connexion in nature; and so no settled standard, anywhere in nature existing, to rectify and adjust them by.

Thirdly, where the signification of the word is referred to a standard, which standard is not easy to be known.

Fourthly, where the signification of the word, and the real essence of the thing, are not exactly the same.

These are difficulties that attend the signification of several words that are intelligible. Those which are not intelligible at all, such as names standing for any simple ideas, which another has not organs or faculties to attain; as the names of colours to a blind man, or sounds to a deaf man, need not here be mentioned.

In all these cases, we shall find an imperfection in words; which I shall more at large explain, in their particular application to our several sorts of ideas: for if we examine them, we shall find, that the names of mixed modes are most liable to doubtfulness and imperfection, for the two first of these reasons; and the names of substances chiefly for the two latter.

The names of mixed modes doubtful. First, because the ideas they stand for, are so complex

§6．First, the names of mixed modes, are many of them liable to great uncertainty and obscurity in their signification.

I. Because of that great composition, these complex ideas are often made up of. To make words serviceable to the end of communication, it is necessary, (as has been said) that they excite, in the hearer, exactly the same idea, they stand for in the mind of the speaker. Without this, men fill one another's heads with noise and sounds; but convey not thereby their thoughts, and lay not before one another their ideas, which is the end of discourse and language. But when a word stands for a very complex idea, that is compounded and decompounded, it is not easy for men to form and retain that idea so exactly, as to make the name in common use, stand for the same precise idea, without any the least variation. Hence it comes to pass, that men's names, of very compound ideas, such as for the most part are moral words, have seldom, in two different men, the same precise signification; since one man's complex idea seldom agrees with another's, and often differs from his own, from that which he had yesterday, or will have tomorrow.

Secondly, because they have no standards

§7．II. Because the names of mixed modes, for the most part, want standards in nature, whereby men may rectify and adjust their significations; therefore they are very various and doubtful. They are assemblages of ideas put together at the pleasure of the mind, pursuing its own ends of discourse, and suited to its own notions; whereby it designs not to copy anything really existing, but to denominate and rank things, as they come to agree, with those archetypes or forms it has made. He that first brought the word sham, wheedle, or banter in use, put together, as he thought fit, those ideas he made it stand for: and as it is with any new names of modes, that are now brought into any language; so was it with the old ones, when they were first made use of. Names therefore, that stand for collections of ideas, which the mind makes at pleasure, must needs be of doubtful signification, when such collections are nowhere to be found constantly united in nature, nor any patterns to be shown whereby men may adjust them. What the word murder, or sacrilege, etc. signifies, can never be known from things themselves: there be many of the parts of those complex ideas, which are not visible in the action itself, the intention of the mind, or the relation of holy things, which make a part of murder, or sacrilege, have no necessary connexion with the outward and visible action of him that commits either: and the pulling the trigger of the gun, with which the murder is committed, and is all the action, that, perhaps, is visible, has no natural connexion with those other ideas, that make up the complex one, named murder. They have their union and combination only from the understanding which unites them under one name: but uniting them without any rule, or pattern, it cannot be but that the signification of the name, that stands for such voluntary collections, should be often various in the minds of different men, who have scarce any standing rule to regulate themselves, and their notions by, in such arbitrary ideas.

Propriety not a sufficient remedy

§8．'Tis true, common use, that is the rule of propriety, may be supposed here to afford some aid, to settle the signification of language; and it cannot be denied, but that in some measure it does. Common use regulates the meaning of words pretty well for common conversation; but nobody having an authority to establish the precise signification of words, nor determine to what ideas anyone shall annex them, common use is not sufficient to adjust them to philosophical discourses; there being scarce any name, of any very complex idea, (to say nothing of others,) which, in common use, has not a great latitude, and which keeping within the bounds of propriety, may not be made the sign of far different ideas. Besides the rule and measure of propriety itself being nowhere established, it is often matter of dispute, whether this or that way of using a word, be propriety of speech, or no. From all which, it is evident, that the names of such kind of very complex ideas, are naturally liable to this imperfection, to be of doubtful and uncertain signification; and even in men, that have a mind to understand one another, do not always stand for the same idea in speaker and hearer. Though the names glory and gratitude be the same in every man's mouth, through a whole country, yet the complex collective idea, which everyone thinks on, or intends by that name, is apparently very different in men using the same language.

The way of learning these names contributes also to their doubtfulness

§9．The way also wherein the names of mixed modes are ordinarily learned, does not a little contribute to the doubtfulness of their signification. For if we will observe how children learn languages, we shall find, that to make them understand what the names of simple ideas, or substances, stand for, people ordinarily show them the thing, whereof they would have them have the idea; and then repeat to them the name that stands for it, as white, sweet, milk, sugar, cat, dog. But as for mixed modes, especially the most material of them, moral words, the sounds are usually learned first, and then to know what complex ideas they stand for, they are either beholden to the explication of others, or (which happens for the most part) are left to their own observation and industry; which being little laid out in the search of the true and precise meaning of names, these moral words are, in most men's mouths, little more than bare sounds; or when they have any, 'tis for the most part but a very loose and undetermined, and consequently obscure and confused signification. And even those themselves, who have with more attention settled their notions, do yet hardly avoid the inconvenience, to have them stand for complex ideas, different from those which other, even intelligent and studious men, make them the signs of. Where shall one find any, either controversial debate, or familiar discourse, concerning honour, faith, grace, religion, church, etc. wherein it is not easy to observe the different notions men have of them; which is nothing but this, that they are not agreed in the signification of those words; nor have in their minds the same complex ideas which they make them stand for: and so all the contests that follow thereupon, are only about the meaning of a sound. And hence we see, that in the interpretation of laws, whether divine, or human, there is no end; comments beget comments, and explications make new matter for explications: and of limiting, distinguishing, varying the signification of these moral words, there is no end. These ideas of men's making, are, by men still having the same power, multiplied in infinitum. Many a man, who was pretty well satisfied of the meaning of a text of Scripture, or clause in the code, at first reading, has by consulting commentators, quite lost the sense of it, and, by those elucidations, given rise or increase to his doubts, and drawn obscurity upon the place. I say not this, that I think commentaries needless; but to show how uncertain the names of mixed modes naturally are, even in the mouths of those, who had both the intention and the faculty of speaking as clearly, as language was capable to express their thoughts.

Hence unavoidable obscurity in ancient authors

§10．What obscurity this has unavoidably brought upon the writings of men, who have lived in remote ages, and different countries, it will be needless to take notice. Since the numerous volumes of learned men, employing their thoughts that way, are proofs more than enough, to show what attention, study, sagacity, and reasoning is required, to find out the true meaning of ancient authors. But there being no writings we have any great concernment to be very solicitous about the meaning of, but those that contain either truths we are required to believe, or laws we are to obey, and draw inconveniences on us, when we mistake or transgress, we may be less anxious about the sense of other authors; who writing but their own opinions, we are under no greater necessity to know them, than they to know ours. Our good or evil depending not on their decrees, we may safely be ignorant of their notions: and therefore in the reading of them, if they do not use their words with a due clearness and perspicuity, we may lay them aside, and without any injury done them, resolve thus with ourselves,

Si non vis intelligi, debes negligi.

['If you don't want to be understood, you should be discounted']

§11．If the signification of the names of mixed modes are uncertain, because there be no real standards existing in nature, to which those ideas are referred, and by which they may be adjusted, the names of substances are of a doubtful signification, for a contrary reason, viz. because the ideas, they stand for, are supposed conformable to the reality of things, and are referred to standards made by nature. In our ideas of substances we have not the liberty as in mixed modes, to frame what combinations we think fit, to be the characteristical notes, to rank and denominate things by. In these we must follow nature, suit our complex ideas to real existences, and regulate the signification of their names by the things themselves, if we will have our names to be the signs of them, and stand for them. Here, 'tis true, we have patterns to follow; but patterns, that will make the signification of their names very uncertain: for names must be of a very unsteady and various meaning, if the ideas they stand for, be referred to standards without us, that either cannot be known at all, or can be known but imperfectly and uncertainly.

Names of substances referred, first, to real essences that cannot be known

§12．The names of substances have, as has been showed, a double reference in their ordinary use.

First, sometimes they are made to stand for, and so their signification is supposed to agree to, the real constitution of things, from which all their properties flow, and in which they all centre. But this real constitution, or (as it is apt to be called) essence, being utterly unknown to us, any sound that is put to stand for it, must be very uncertain in its application; and it will be impossible to know, what things are, or ought to be called an horse, or antimony, when those words are put for real essences, that we have no ideas of at all. And therefore in this supposition, the names of substances being referred to standards that cannot be known, their significations can never be adjusted and established by those standards.

Secondly, to co-existing qualities, which are known but imperfectly

§13．Secondly, the simple ideas that are found to co-exist in substances, being that which their names immediately signify, these, as united in the several sorts of things, are the proper standards to which their names are referred, and by which their significations may best be rectified. But neither will these archetypes so well serve to this purpose, as to leave these names, without very various and uncertain significations. Because these simple ideas that coexist, and are united in the same subject, being very numerous, and having all an equal right to go into the complex specific idea, which the specific name is to stand for, men, though they propose to themselves the very same subject to consider, yet frame very different ideas about it; and so the name they use for it, unavoidably comes to have, in several men, very different significations. The simple qualities which make up the complex ideas, being most of them powers, in relation to changes, which they are apt to make in, or receive from other bodies, are almost infinite. He that shall but observe, what a great variety of alterations any one of the baser metals is apt to receive, from the different application only of fire; and how much a greater number of changes any of them will receive in the hands of a chemist, by the application of other bodies, will not think it strange, that I count the properties of any sort of bodies not easy to be collected, and completely known by the ways of inquiry, which our faculties are capable of. They being therefore at least so many, that no man can know the precise and definite number, they are differently discovered by different men, according to their various skill, attention, and ways of handling; who therefore cannot choose but have different ideas of the same substance, and therefore make the signification of its common name very various and uncertain. For the complex ideas of substances, being made up of such simple ones as are supposed to co-exist in nature, everyone has a right to put into his complex idea, those qualities he has found to be united together. For though in the substance gold, one satisfies himself with colour and weight, yet another thinks solubility in aqua regia, as necessary to be joined with that colour in his idea of gold, as anyone does its fusibility; solubility in aqua regia, being a quality as constantly joined with its colour and weight, as fusibility, or any other; others put in its ductility or fixedness, etc. as they have been taught by tradition, or experience. Who of all these, has established the right signification of the word gold? Or who shall be the judge to determine? Each has his standard in nature, which he appeals to, and with reason thinks he has the same right to put into his complex idea, signified by the word gold, those qualities, which upon trial he has found united; as another, who has not so well examined, has to leave them out; or a third, who has made other trials, has to put in others. For the union in nature of these qualities, being the true ground of their union in one complex idea, who can say, one of them has more reason to be put in, or left out, than another? From whence it will always unavoidably follow, that the complex ideas of substances, in men using the same name for them, will be very various; and so the significations of those names, very uncertain.

§14．Besides, there is scarce any particular thing existing, which, in some of its simple ideas, does not communicate with a greater, and in others with a less number of particular beings: who shall determine in this case, which are those that are to make up the precise collection, that is to be signified by the specific name; or can with any just authority prescribe, which obvious or common qualities are to be left out; or which more secret, or more particular, are to be put into the signification of the name of any substance? All which together, seldom or never fail to produce that various and doubtful signification in the names of substances, which causes such uncertainty, disputes, or mistakes, when we come to a philosophical use of them.

With this imperfection, they may serve for civil, but not well for philosophical use

§15．'Tis true, as to civil and common conversation, the general names of substances, regulated in their ordinary signification by some obvious qualities, (as by the shape and figure in things of known seminal propagation, and in other substances, for the most part by colour, joined with some other sensible qualities,) do well enough, to design the things men would be understood to speak of: and so they usually conceive well enough the substances meant by the word gold, or apple, to distinguish the one from the other. But in philosophical inquiries and debates, where general truths are to be established, and consequences drawn from positions laid down, there the precise signification of the names of substances will be found, not only not to be well established, but also very hard to be so. For example, he that shall make malleableness, or a certain degree of fixedness, a part of his complex idea of gold, may make propositions concerning gold, and draw consequences from them, that will truly and clearly follow from gold, taken in such a signification: But yet such as another man can never be forced to admit, nor be convinced of their truth, who makes not malleableness, or the same degree of fixedness, part of that complex idea, that the name gold, in his use of it, stands for.

Instance liquor

§16．This is a natural, and almost unavoidable imperfection in almost all the names of substances, in all languages whatsoever, which men will easily find, when once passing from confused or loose notions, they come to more strict and close inquiries. For then they will be convinced, how doubtful and obscure those words are in their signification, which in ordinary use appeared very clear and determined. I was once in a meeting of very learned and ingenious physicians, where by chance there arose a question, whether any liquor passed through the filaments of the nerves. The debate having been managed a good while, by variety of arguments on both sides, I (who had been used to suspect, that the greatest part of disputes were more about the signification of words, than a real difference in the conception of things) desired, that before they went any further on in this dispute, they would first examine, and establish amongst them, what the word liquor signified. They atfirst were a little surprised at the proposal; and had they been persons less ingenious, they might perhaps have taken it for a very frivolous or extravagant one: since there was no one there, that thought not himself to understand very perfectly, what the word liquor stood for; which, I think too, none of the most perplexed names of substances. However, they were pleased to comply with my motion, and upon examination found, that the signification of that word, was not so settled and certain, as they had all imagined; but that each of them made it a sign of a different complex idea. This made them perceive, that the main of their dispute was about the signification of that term; and that they differed very little in their opinions, concerning some fluid and subtle matter, passing through the conduits of the nerves; though it was not so easy to agree whether it was to be called liquor, or no, a thing which when each considered, he thought it not worth the contending about.

Instance gold

§17．How much this is the case in the greatest part of disputes, that men are engaged so hotly in, I shall, perhaps, have an occasion in another place to take notice. Let us only here consider a little more exactly the fore-mentioned instance of the word gold, and we shall see how hard it is precisely to determine its signification. I think all agree, to make it stand for a body of a certain yellow shining colour; which being the idea to which children have annexed that name, the shining yellow part of a peacock's tail, is properly to them gold. Others finding fusibility joined with that yellow colour in certain parcels of matter, make of that combination a complex idea to which they give the name gold to denote a sort of substances; and so exclude from being gold all such yellow shining bodies, as by fire will be reduced to ashes, and admit to be of that species, or to be comprehended under that name gold only such substances as having that shining yellow colour will by fire be reduced to fusion, and not to ashes. Another by the same reason adds the weight, which being a quality, as straightly joined with that colour, as its fusibility, he thinks has the same reason to be joined in its idea, and to be signified by its name: and therefore the other made up of body, of such a colour and fusibility, to be imperfect; and so on of all the rest: wherein no one can show a reason, why some of the inseparable qualities, that are always united in nature, should be put into the nominal essence, and others left out: Or why the word gold, signifying that sort of body the ring on his finger is made of, should determine that sort, rather by its colour, weight, and fusibility; than by its colour, weight, and solubility in aqua regia: since the dissolving it by that liquor, is as inseparable from it, as the fusion by fire; and they are both of them nothing, but the relation which that substance has to two other bodies, which have a power to operate differently upon it. For by what right is it, that fusibility comes to be a part of the essence, signified by the word gold, and solubility but a property of it? Or why is its colour part of the essence, and its malleableness but a property? That which I mean, is this, that these being all but properties, depending on its real constitution; and nothing but powers, either active or passive, in reference to other bodies, no one has authority to determine the signification of the word gold, (as referred to such a body existing in nature) more to one collection of ideas to be found in that body, than to another: whereby the signification of that name must unavoidably be very uncertain. Since, as has been said, several people observe several properties in the same substance; and, I think, I may say nobody all. And therefore we have but very imperfect descriptions of things, and words have very uncertain significations.

The names of simple ideas the least doubtful

§18．From what has been said, it is easy to observe, what has been before remarked, viz. that the names of simple ideas are, of all others the least liable to mistakes, and that for these reasons. First, Because the ideas they stand for, being each but one single perception, are much easier got, and more clearly retained, than the more complex ones, and therefore are not liable to the uncertainty, which usually attends those compounded ones of substances and mixed modes, in which the precise number of simple ideas, that make them up, are not easily agreed, and so readily kept in mind. And secondly, because they are never referred to any other essence, but barely that perception they immediately signify: which reference is that, which renders the signification of the names of substances naturally so perplexed, and gives occasion to so many disputes. Men that do not perversely use their words, or on purpose set themselves to cavil, seldom mistake in any language, which they are acquainted with, the use and signification of the names of simple ideas: white and sweet, yellow and bitter, carry a very obvious meaning with them, which everyone precisely comprehends, or easily perceives he is ignorant of, and seeks to be informed. But what precise collection of simple ideas, modesty, or frugality stand for in another's use, is not so certainly known. And however we are apt to think, we well enough know, what is meant by gold or iron; yet the precise complex idea, others make them the signs of, is not so certain: and I believe it is very seldom that in speaker and hearer, they stand for exactly the same collection. Which must needs produce mistakes and disputes, when they are made use of in discourses, wherein men have to do with universal propositions, and would settle in their minds universal truths and consider the consequences, that follow from them.

And next to them simple modes

§19．By the same rule, the names of simple modes are next to those of simple ideas, least liable to doubt and uncertainty, especially those of figure and number, of which men have so clear and distinct ideas. Whoever, that had a mind to understand them, mistook the ordinary meaning of seven, or a triangle? And in general the least compounded ideas in every kind have the least dubious names.

The most doubtful are the names of very compounded mixed modes and substances

§20．Mixed modes therefore, that are made up but of a few and obvious simple ideas, have usually names of no very uncertain signification. But the names of mixed modes, which comprehend a great number of simple ideas, are commonly of a very doubtful, and undetermined meaning, as has been shown. The names of substances, being annexed to ideas, that are neither the real essences, nor exact representations of the patterns they are referred to, are liable yet to greater imperfection and uncertainty, especially when we come to a philosophical use of them.

Why this imperfection charged upon words

§21．The great disorder that happens in our names of substances, proceeding for the most part from our want of knowledge, and inability to penetrate into their real constitutions, it may probably be wondered, why I charge this as an imperfection, rather upon our words than understandings. This exception, has so much appearance of justice, that I think myself obliged to give a reason, why I have followed this method. I must confess then, that when I first began this discourse of the understanding, and a good while after, I had not the least thought, that any consideration of words was at all necessary to it. But when having passed over the original and composition of our ideas, I began to examine the extent and certainty of our knowledge, I found it had so near a connexion with words, that unless their force and manner of signification were first well observed, there could be very little said clearly and pertinently concerning knowledge: which being conversant about truth, had constantly to do with propositions. And though it terminated in things, yet it was for the most part so much by the intervention of words, that they seemed scarce separable from our general knowledge. At least they interpose themselves so much between our understandings, and the truth, which it would contemplate and apprehend, that like the medium through which visible objects pass, their obscurity and disorder does not seldom cast a mist before our eyes, and impose upon our understandings. If we consider, in the fallacies, men put upon themselves, as well as others, and the mistakes in men's disputes and notions, how great a part is owing to words, and their uncertain or mistaken significations, we shall have reason to think this no small obstacle in the way to knowledge, which, I conclude we are the more carefully to be warned of, because it has been so far from being taken notice of as an inconvenience, that the arts of improving it have been made the business of men's study; and obtained the reputation of learning and subtlety, as we shall see in the following chapter. But I am apt to imagine, that were the imperfections of language, as the instrument of knowledge, more throughly weighed, a great many of the controversies that make such a noise in the world, would of themselves cease; and the way to knowledge, and, perhaps, peace too, lie a great deal opener than it does.

This should teach us moderation, in imposing our own sense of old authors

§22．Sure I am, that the signification of words, in all languages, depending very much on the thoughts, notions, and ideas of him that uses them, must unavoidably be of great uncertainty, to men of the same language and country. This is so evident in the Greek authors, that he, that shall peruse their writings, will find, in almost every one of them, a distinct language, though the same words. But when to this natural difficulty in every country, there shall be added different countries, and remote ages, wherein the speakers and writers had very different notions, tempers, customs, ornaments, and figures of speech, etc. every one of which, influenced the signification of their words then, though to us now they are lost and unknown, it would become us to be charitable one to another in our interpretations or misunderstanding of those ancient writings, which though of great concernment to us to be understood, are liable to the unavoidable difficulties of speech, which, (if we except the names of simple ideas, and some very obvious things) is not capable, without a constant defining the terms of conveying the sense and intention of the speaker, without any manner of doubt and uncertainty, to the hearer. And in discourses of religion, law, and morality, as they are matters of the highest concernment, so there will be the greatest difficulty.

§23．The volumes of interpreters, and commentators on the Old and New Testament, are but too manifest proofs of this. Though everything said in the text be infallibly true, yet the reader may be, nay cannot choose but be very fallible in the understanding of it. Nor is it to be wondered, that the will of GOD, when clothed in words, should be liable to that doubt and uncertainty, which unavoidably attends that sort of conveyance, when even his Son, whilst clothed in flesh, was subject to all the frailties and inconveniencies of human nature, sin excepted. And we ought to magnify his goodness, that he hath spread before all the world, such legible characters of his works and providence, and given all mankind so sufficient a light of reason, that they to whom this written word never came, could not (whenever they set themselves to search) either doubt of the being of a GOD, or of the obedience due to Him. Since then the precepts of natural religion are plain, and very intelligible to all mankind, and seldom come to be controverted; and other revealed truths, which are conveyed to us by books and languages, are liable to the common and natural obscurities and difficulties incident to words, methinks it would become us to be more careful and diligent in observing the former, and less magisterial, positive, and imperious, in imposing our own sense and interpretations of the latter.

Of the Abuse of Words

Abuse of words

§1．Besides the imperfection that is naturally in language, and the obscurity and confusion that is so hard to be avoided in the use of words, there are several wilfu1 faults and neglects, which men are guilty of, in this way of communication, whereby they render these signs less clear and distinct in their signification, than naturally they need to be.

First, words without any, or without clear ideas

§2．First, in this kind, the first and most palpable abuse is, the using of words, without clear and distinct ideas; or, which is worse, signs without anything signified. Of these there are two sorts:

I. One may observe, in all languages, certain words, that if they be examined, will be found, in their first original, and their appropriated use, not to stand for any clear and distinct ideas. These, for the most part, the several sects of philosophy and religion have introduced. For their authors, or promoters, either affecting something singular, and out of the way of common apprehensions, or to support some strange opinions, or cover some weakness of their hypothesis, seldom fail to coin new words, and such as, when they come to be examined, may justly be called insignificant terms. For having either had no determinate collection of ideas annexed to them, when they were first invented; or at least such as, if well examined, will be found inconsistent, 'tis no wonder if afterwards, in the vulgar use of the same party, they remain empty sounds, with little or no signification, amongst those who think it enough to have them often in their mouths, as the distinguishing characters of their church, or school, without much troubling their heads to examine, what are the precise ideas they stand for. I shall not need here to heap up instances, everyone's reading and conversation will sufficiently furnish him: Or if he wants to be better stored, the great mint-masters of these kind of terms, I mean the School-men and metaphysicians, (under which, I think, the disputing natural and moral philosophers of these latter ages, may be comprehended,) have wherewithal abundantly to content him.

§3．II. Others there be, who extend this abuse yet further, who take so little care to lay by words, which in their primary notation have scarce any clear and distinct ideas which they are annexed to, that by an unpardonable negligence, they familiarly use words, which the propriety of language has affixed to very important ideas, without any distinct meaning at all. Wisdom, glory, grace, etc. are words frequent enough in every man's mouth; but if a great many of those who use them, should be asked, what they mean by them? they would be at a stand, and not know what to answer: a plain proof, that though they have learned those sounds, and have them ready at their tongues' end, yet there are no determined ideas laid up in their minds, which are to be expressed to others by them.

Occasioned by learning names before the ideas they belong to

§4．Men, having been accustomed from their cradles to learn words, which are easily got and retained, before they knew, or had framed the complex ideas, to which they were annexed, or which were to be found in the things they were thought to stand for, they usually continue to do so all their lives, and without taking the pains necessary to settle in their minds determined ideas, they use their words for such unsteady and confused notions as they have, contenting themselves with the same words other people use; as if their very sound necessarily carried with it constantly the same meaning. This, though men make a shift with, in the ordinary occurrences of life, where they find it necessary to be understood, and therefore they make signs till they are so: yet this insignificancy in their words, when they come to reason concerning either their tenets or interest, manifestly fills their discourse with abundance of empty unintelligible noise and jargon, especially in moral matters, where the words, for the most part, standing for arbitrary and numerous collections of ideas, not regularly and permanently united in nature, their bare sounds are often only thought on, or at least very obscure and uncertain notions annexed to them. Men take the words they find in use amongst their neighbours; and that they may not seem ignorant what they stand for, use them confidently, without much troubling their heads about a certain fixed meaning; whereby, besides the ease of it, they obtain this advantage, that as in such discourses they seldom are in the right, so they are as seldom to be convinced, that they are in the wrong; it being all one to go about to draw those men out of their mistakes, who have no settled notions, as to dispossess a vagrant of his habitation, who has no settled abode. This I guess to be so; and everyone may observe in himself and others, whether it be, or no.

Secondly, unsteady application of them

§5．Secondly, another great abuse of words is, inconstancy in the use of them. It is hard to find a discourse written of any subject, especially of controversy, whereon one shall not observe, if he read with attention, the same words (and those commonly the most material in the discourse, and upon which the argument turns) used sometimes for one collection of simple ideas, and sometimes for another, which is a perfect abuse of language, words being intended for signs of my ideas, to make them known to others, not by any natural signification, but by a voluntary imposition, 'tis plain cheat and abuse, when I make them stand sometimes for one thing, and sometimes for another; the wilful doing whereof, can be imputed to nothing but great folly, or greater dishonesty. And a man, in his accounts with another, may, with as much fairness, make the characters of numbers stand sometimes for one, and sometimes for another collection of units: v. g. this character 3 stand sometimes for three, sometimes for four, and sometimes for eight; as in his discourse, or reasoning, make the same words stand for different collections of simple ideas. If men should do so in their reckonings, I wonder who would have to do with them? One who would speak thus, in the affairs and business of the world, and call 8 sometimes seven, and sometimes nine, as best served his advantage, would presently have clapped upon him one of the two names men constantly are disgusted with. And yet in arguings, and learned contests, the same sort of proceeding passes commonly for wit and learning: but to me it appears a greater dishonesty, than the misplacing of counters, in the casting up a debt; and the cheat the greater, by how much truth is of greater concernment and value, than money.

Thirdly, affected obscurity by wrong application

§6．Thirdly, another abuse of language is, an affected obscurity, by either applying old words, to new and unusual significations; or introducing new and ambiguous terms, without defining either; or else putting them so together, as may confound their ordinary meaning. Though the Peripatetic philosophy has been most eminent in this way, yet other sects have not been wholly clear of it. There is scarce any of them that are not cumbered with some difficulties, (such is the imperfection of human knowledge,) which they have been fain to cover with obscurity of terms, and to confound the signification of words, which, like a mist before people's eyes, might hinder their weak parts from being discovered. That body and extension, in common use, stand for two distinct ideas, is plain to anyone that will but reflect a little. For were their signification precisely the same, it would be proper, and as intelligible to say, the body of an extension, as the extension of a body; and yet there are those who find it necessary to confound their signification. To this abuse, and the mischiefs of confounding the signification of words, logic, and the liberal sciences as they have been handled in the Schools, have given reputation; and the admired art of disputing, hath added much to the natural imperfection of languages, whilst it has been made use of, and fitted, to perplex the signification of words, more than to discover the knowledge and truth of things: and he that will look into that sort of learned writings, will find the words there much more obscure, uncertain, and undetermined in their meaning, than they are in ordinary conversation.

Logic and dispute has much contributed to this

§7．This is unavoidably to be so, where men's parts and learning, are estimated by their skill in disputing. And if reputation and reward shall attend these conquests, which depend mostly on the fineness and niceties of words, 'tis no wonder if the wit of man so employed, should perplex, involve, and subtilize the signification of sounds, so as never to want something to say, in opposing or defending any question; the victory being adjudged not to him who had truth on his side, but the last word in the dispute.

Calling it subtlety

§8．This, though a very useless skill, and that which I think the direct opposite to the ways of knowledge, hath yet passed hitherto under the laudable and esteemed names of subtlety and acuteness; and has had the applause of the Schools, and encouragement of one part of the learned men of the world. And no wonder, since the philosophers of old, (the disputing and wrangling philosophers I mean, such as Lucian wittily, and with reason taxes,) and the Schoolmen since, aiming at glory and esteem, for their great and universal knowledge, easier a great deal to be pretended to, than really acquired, found this a good expedient to cover their ignorance, with a curious and unexplicable web of perplexed words, and procure to themselves the admiration of others, by unintelligible terms, the apter to produce wonder, because they could not be understood: whilst it appears in all history, that these profound doctors were no wiser, nor more useful than their neighbours; and brought but small advantage to human life, or the societies, wherein they lived: unless the coining of new words, where they produced no new things to apply them to, or the perplexing or obscuring the signification of old ones, and so bringing all things into question and dispute, were a thing profitable to the life of man, or worthy commendation and reward.

This learning very little benefits society

§9．For, notwithstanding these learned disputants, these all-knowing doctors, it was to the unscholastic statesman, that the governments of the world owed their peace, defence, and liberties; and from the illiterate and contemned mechanic, (a name of disgrace) that they received the improvements of useful arts. Nevertheless, this artificial ignorance, and learned gibberish, prevailed mightily in these last ages, by the interest and artifice of those, who found no easier way to that pitch of authority and dominion they have attained, than by amusing the men of business, and ignorant, with hard words, or employing the ingenious and idle in intricate disputes, about unintelligible terms, and holding them perpetually entangled in that endless labyrinth. Besides, there is no such way to gain admittance, or give defence to strange and absurd doctrines, as to guard them round about with legions of obscure, doubtful, and undefined words. Which yet make these retreats, more like the dens of robbers, or holes of foxes, than the fortresses of fair warriors: which if it be hard to get them out of, it is not for the strength that is in them, but the briars and thorns, and the obscurity of the thickets they are beset with. For untruth being unacceptable to the mind of man, there is no other defence left for absurdity, but obscurity.

But destroys the instruments of knowledge and communication

§10．Thus learned ignorance, and this art of keeping, even inquisitive men, from true knowledge, hath been propagated in the world, and hath much perplexed, whilst it pretended to inform the understanding. For we see, that other well-meaning and wise men, whose education and parts had not acquired that acuteness, could intelligibly express themselves to one another; and in its plain use, make a benefit of language. But though unlearned men well enough understood the words white and black, etc. and had constant notions of the ideas signified by those words; yet there were philosophers found, who had learning and subtlety enough to prove, that snow was black; i. e. to prove, that white was black. Whereby they had the advantage to destroy the instruments and means of discourse, conversation, instruction, and society; whilst with great art and subtlety they did no more but perplex and confound the signification of words, and thereby render language less useful, than the real defects of it had made it, a gift, which the illiterate had not attained to.

As useful as to confound the sound of the letters

§11．These learned men did equally instruct men's understandings, and profit their lives, as he who should alter the signification of known characters, and, by a subtle device of learning, far surpassing the capacity of the illiterate, dull, and vulgar, should, in his writing, show, that he could put A for B, and D for E, etc. to the no small admiration and benefit of his reader. It being as senseless to put black, which is a word agreed on to stand for one sensible idea, to put it, I say, for another, or the contrary idea, i. e. to call snow black, as to put this mark A. which is a character agreed on to stand for one modification of sound, made by a certain motion of the organs of speech, for B. which is agreed on to stand for another modification of sound, made by another certain motion of the organs of speech.

This art has perplexed religion and justice

§12．Nor hath this mischief stopped in logical niceties, or curious empty speculations; it hath invaded the great concernments of human life and society; obscured and perplexed the material truths of law and divinity; brought confusion, disorder and uncertainty into the affairs of mankind; and if not destroyed, yet in great measure rendered useless, those two great rules, religion and justice. What have the greatest part of the comments and disputes, upon the laws of GOD and man served for, but to make the meaning more doubtful, and perplex the sense? What have been the effect of those multiplied curious distinctions, and acute niceties, but obscurity and uncertainty, leaving the words more unintelligible, and the reader more at a loss? How else comes it to pass, that princes, speaking or writing to their servants, in their ordinary commands, are easily understood; speaking to their people, in their laws, are not so? And, as I remarked before, doth it not often happen, that a man of an ordinary capacity, very well understands a text, or a law, that he reads, till he consults an expositor, or goes to council; who by that time he hath done explaining them, makes the words signify either nothing at all, or what he pleases.

And ought not to pass for learning

§13．Whether any by-interests of these professions have occasioned this, I will not here examine; but I leave it to be considered, whether it would not be well for mankind, whose concernment it is to know things as they are, and to do what they ought; and not to spend their lives in talking about them, or tossing words to and fro; whether it would not be well, I say, that the use of words were made plain and direct; and that language, which was given us for the improvement of knowledge, and bond of society, should not be employed to darken truth, and unsettle people's rights; to raise mists, and render unintelligible both morality and religion? Or that at least, if this will happen, it should not be thought learning or knowledge to do so?

Fourthly, taking them for things

§14．Fourthly, another great abuse of words is, the taking them for things. This, though it, in some degree, concerns all names in general; yet more particularly affects those of substances. To this abuse, those men are most subject, who confine their thoughts to any one system, and give themselves up into a firm belief of the perfection of any received hypothesis: whereby they come to be persuaded, that the terms of that sect, are so suited to the nature of things, that they perfectly correspond with their real existence. Who is there, that has been bred up in the Peripatetic philosophy, who does not think the ten names, under which are ranked the ten predicaments, to be exactly conformable to the nature of things? Who is there, of that school, that is not persuaded, that substantial forms, vegetative souls, abhorrence of a vacuum, intentional species, etc. are something real? These words men have learned from their very entrance upon knowledge, and have found their masters and systems lay great stress upon them: and therefore they cannot quit the opinion, that they are conformable to nature, and are the representations of something that really exists. The Platonists have their soul of the world, and the Epicureans their endeavour towards motion in their atoms, when at rest. There is scarce any sect in philosophy has not a distinct set of terms, that others understand not. But yet this gibberish, which in the weakness of human understanding, serves so well to palliate men's ignorance, and cover their errors, comes by familiar use amongst those of the same tribe, to seem the most important part of language, and of all other the terms the most significant: and should aerial and œtherial vehicles come once, by the prevalency of that doctrine, to be generally received anywhere, no doubt those terms would make impressions on men's minds, so as to establish them in the persuasion of the reality of such things, as much as peripatetic forms, and intentional species have heretofore done.

Instance in matter

§15．How much names taken for things, are apt to mislead the understanding, the attentive reading of philosophical writers would abundantly discover; and that, perhaps, in words little suspected of any such misuse. I shall instance in one only, and that a very familiar one. How many intricate disputes have there been about matter, as if there were some such thing really in nature, distinct from body; as 'tis evident, the word matter stands for an idea distinct from the idea of body? For if the ideas these two terms stood for, were precisely the same, they might indifferently in all places be put one for another. But we see, that though it be proper to say, there is one matter of all bodies, one cannot say, there is one body of all matters: we familiarly say, one body is bigger than another, but it sounds harsh (and I think is never used) to say, one matter is bigger than another. Whence comes this then? Viz. from hence, that though matter and body, be not really distinct, but wherever there is the one, there is the other; yet matter and body, stand for two different conceptions, whereof the one is incomplete, and but a part of the other. For body stands for a solid extended figured substance, whereof matter is but a partial and more confused conception, it seeming to me to be used for the substance and solidity of body, without taking in its extension and figure: And therefore it is that speaking of matter, we speak of it always as one, because in truth, it expressly contains nothing but the idea of a solid substance, which is everywhere the same, everywhere uniform. This being our idea of matter, we no more conceive, or speak of different matters in the world, than we do of different solidities; though we both conceive, and speak of different bodies, because extension and figure are capable of variation. But since solidity cannot exist without extension, and figure, the taking matter to be the name of something really existing under that precision, has no doubt produced those obscure and unintelligible discourses and disputes, which have filled the heads and books of philosophers concerning materia prima; which imperfection or abuse, how far it may concern a great many other general terms, I leave to be B~considered. This, I think, I may at least say, that we should~B have a great many fewer disputes in the world, if words were taken for what they are, the signs of our ideas only, and not for things themselves. For when we argue about matter, or any the like term, we truly argue only about the idea we express by that sound, whether that precise idea agree to anything really existing in nature, or no. And if men would tell, what ideas they make their words stand for, there could not be half that obscurity or wrangling, in the search or support of truth, that there is.

This makes errors lasting

§16．But whatever inconvenience follows from this mistake of words, this I am sure, that by constant and familiar use, they charm men into notions far remote from the truth of things. 'Twould be a hard matter, to persuade anyone, that the words which his father or schoolmaster, the parson of the parish, or such a reverend doctor used, signified nothing that really existed in nature: which, perhaps, is none of the least causes, that men are so hardly drawn to quit their mistakes, even in opinions purely philosophical, and where they have no other interest but truth. For the words, they have a long time been used to, remaining firm in their minds, 'tis no wonder, that the wrong notions annexed to them, should not be removed.

Fifthly, setting them for what they cannot signify

§17．Fifthly, another abuse of words, is the setting them in the place of things, which they do or can by no means signify. We may observe, that in the general names of substances, whereof the nominal essences are only known to us, when we put them into propositions, and affirm or deny anything about them, we do most commonly tacitly suppose, or intend, they should stand for the real essence of a certain sort of substances. For when a man says 'gold is malleable', he means and would insinuate something more than this, that 'what I call gold is malleable', (though truly it amounts to no more) but would have this understood, viz. that 'gold; i. e. what has the real essence of gold is malleable', which amounts to thus much, that 'malleableness depends on, and is inseparable from the real essence of gold'. But a man, not knowing wherein that real essence consists, the connexion in his mind of malleableness, is not truly with an essence he knows not, but only with the sound gold he puts for it. Thus when we say, that animal rational is, and animal implume bipes latis unguibus, ['featherless broad-nailed biped'. A traditional definition stemming from Plato] is not a good definition of a man; 'tis plain, we suppose the name man in this case to stand for the real essence of a species, and would signify, that a rational animal better described that real essence, than a two-legged animal with broad nails, and without feathers. For else, why might not Plato as properly make the word or man stand for his complex idea, made up of the ideas of a body, distinguished from others by a certain shape and other outward appearances, as Aristotle, make the complex idea, to which he gave the name or man, of body, and the faculty of reasoning joined together; unless the name or man, were supposed to stand for something else, than what it signifies; and to be put in the place of some other thing, than the idea a man professes he would express by it?

V. g. putting them for the real essences of substances

§18．'Tis true, the names of substances would be much more useful, and propositions made in them much more certain, were the real essences of substances the ideas in our minds, which those words signified. And 'tis for want of those real essences, that our words convey so little knowledge or certainty in our discourses about them: and therefore the mind, to remove that imperfection as much as it can, makes them, by a secret supposition, to stand for a thing, having that real essence, as if thereby it made some nearer approaches to it. For though the word man or gold, signify nothing truly but a complex idea of properties, united together in one sort of substances: yet there is scarce anybody in the use of these words, but often supposes each of those names to stand for a thing having the real essence, on which those properties depend. Which is so far from diminishing the imperfection of our words, that by a plain abuse, it adds to it, when we would make them stand for something, which not being in our complex idea, the name we use, can no ways be the sign of.

Hence we think every change of our idea in substances, not to change the species

§19．This shows us the reason, Why in mixed modes any of the ideas that make the composition of the complex one, being left out, or changed, it is allowed to be another thing, i. e. to be of another species, as is plain in chance-medly, manslaughter, murder, parricide, etc. The reason whereofis, because the complex idea signified by that name, is the real, as well as nominal essence; and there is no secret reference of that name to any other essence, but that. But in substances it is not so. For though in that called gold one puts into his complex idea, what another leaves out; and vice versâ: yet men do not usually think, that therefore the species is changed: because they secretly in their minds refer that name, and suppose it annexed to a real immutable essence of a thing existing, on which those properties depend. He that adds to his complex idea of gold, that of fixedness or solubility in aqua regia, which he put not in it before, is not thought to have changed the species; but only to have a more perfect idea, by adding another simple idea, which is always in fact, joined with those other, of which his former complex idea consisted. But this reference of the name to a thing, whereof we have not the idea, is so far from helping at all, that it only serves the more to involve us in difficulties. For by this tacit reference to the real essence of that species of bodies, the word gold (which by standing for a more or less perfect collection of simple ideas, serves to design that sort of body well enough in civil discourse) comes to have no signification at all, being put for somewhat, whereof we have no idea at all, and so can signify nothing at all, when the body itself is away. For however it may be thought all one; yet, if well considered, it will be found a quite different thing, to argue about gold in name, and about a parcel of the body itself, v. g. a piece of leaf-gold laid before us; though in discourse we are fain to substitute the name for the thing.

The cause of the abuse, a supposition of nature's working always regularly

§20．That which, I think very much disposes men to substitute their names for the real essences of species, is the supposition before mentioned, that nature works regularly in the production of things, and sets the boundaries to each of those species, by giving exactly the same real internal constitution to each individual, which we rank under one general name. Whereas anyone who observes their different qualities can hardly doubt, that many of the individuals, called by the same name, are, in their internal constitution, as different one from another, as several of those which are ranked under different specific names. This supposition, however that the same precise internal constitution goes always with the same specific name, makes men forward to take those names for the representatives of those real essences, though indeed they signify nothing but the complex ideas they have in their minds, when they use them. So that, if I may so say, signifying one thing, and being supposed for, or put in the place of another, they cannot but, in such a kind of use, cause a great deal of uncertainty in men's discourses; especially in those, who have thoroughly imbibed the doctrine of substantial forms, whereby they firmly imagine the several species of things to be determined and distinguished.

This abuse contains two false suppositions

§21．But however preposterous and absurd it be, to make our names stand for ideas we have not, or (which is all one) essences that we know not, it being in effect to make our words the signs of nothing; yet 'tis evident to anyone, whoever so little reflects on the use men make of their words, that there is nothing more familiar. When a man asks, whether this or that thing he sees, let it be a drill, or a monstrous fœtus, be a man, or no; 'tis evident, the question is not, whether that particular thing agree to his complex idea, expressed by the name man: but whether it has in it the real essence of a species of things, which he supposes his name man to stand for. In which way of using the names of substances, there are these false suppositions contained.

First, that there are certain precise essences, according to which nature makes all particular things, and by which they are distinguished into species. That every thing has a real constitution, whereby it is what it is, and on which its sensible qualities depend, is past doubt: but I think it has been proved, that this makes not the distinction of species, as we rank them; nor the boundaries of their names.

Secondly, this tacitly also insinuates, as if we had ideas of these proposed essences. For to what purpose else is it, to inquire whether this or that thing have the real essence of the species man, if we did not suppose that there were such a specific essence known? Which yet is utterly false: and therefore such application of names, as would make them stand for ideas which we have not, must needs cause great disorder in discourses and reasonings about them, and be a great inconvenience in our communication by words.

Sixthly, a supposition that words have a certain and evident signification

§22．Sixthly, there remains yet another more general, though, perhaps, less observed abuse of words; and that is, that men having by a long and familiar use annexed to them certain ideas, they are apt to imagine so near and necessary a connexion between the names and the signification they use them in, that they forwardly suppose one cannot but understand what their meaning is; and therefore one ought to acquiesce in the words delivered, as if it were past doubt, that in the use of those common received sounds, the speaker and hearer had necessarily the same precise ideas. Whence presuming, that when they have in discourse used any term, they have thereby, as it were, set before others the very thing they talk of. And so likewise taking the words of others, as naturally standing for just what they themselves have been accustomed to apply them to, they never trouble themselves to explain their own, or understand clearly others' meaning. From whence commonly proceeds noise, and wrangling, without improvement of information; whilst men take words to be the constant regular marks of agreed notions, which in truth are no more but the voluntary and unsteady signs of their own ideas. And yet men think it strange, if in discourse, or (where it is often absolutely necessary) in dispute, one sometimes asks the meaning of their terms: though the arguings one may every day observe in conversation, make it evident, that there are few names of complex ideas, which any two men use for the same just precise collection. 'Tis hard to name a word, which will not be a clear instance of this. Life is a term, none more familiar. Anyone almost would take it for an affront, to be asked what he meant by it. And yet if it comes in question, whether a plant, that lies ready formed in the seed, have life; whether the embryo in an egg before incubation, or a man in a swoon without sense or motion, be alive, or no? it is easy to perceive, that a clear distinct settled idea does not always accompany the use of so known a word, as that of life is. Some gross and confused conceptions men indeed ordinarily have, to which they apply the common words of their language, and such a loose use of their words serves them well enough in their ordinary discourses or affairs. But this is not sufficient for philosophical inquiries. Knowledge and reasoning require precise determinate ideas. And though men will not be so importunately dull, as not to understand what others say, without demanding an explication of their terms; nor so troublesomely critical, as to correct others in the use of the words they receive from them: yet where truth and knowledge are concerned in the case, I know not what fault it can be to desire the explication of words, whose sense seems dubious; or why a man should be ashamed to own his ignorance, in what sense another man uses his words, since he has no other way of certainly knowing it, but by being informed. This abuse of taking words upon trust, has nowhere spread so far, nor with so ill effects, as amongst men of letters. The multiplication and obstinacy of disputes, which has so laid waste the intellectual world, is owing to nothing more, than to this ill use of words. For though it be generally believed, that there is great diversity of opinions in the volumes and variety of controversies, the world is distracted with; yet the most I can find, that the contending learned men of different parties do, in their arguings one with another, is, that they speak different languages. For I am apt to imagine, that when any of them quitting terms, think upon things, and know what they think, they think all the same: though perhaps, what they would have, be different.

The ends of language, first, to convey our ideas

§23．To conclude this consideration of the imperfection, and abuse of language; the ends of language in our discoursewith others, being chiefly these three: first, to make known one man's thoughts or ideas to another. Secondly, to do it with as much ease and quickness, as is possible; and thirdly, thereby to convey the knowledge of things. Language is either abused, or deficient, when it fails of any of these three.

First, words fail in the first of these ends, and lay not open one man's ideas to another's view. First, when men have names in their mouths without any determined ideas in their minds, whereof they are the signs: or secondly, when they apply the common received names of any language to ideas, to which the common use of that language does not apply them: or thirdly, when they apply them very unsteadily, making them stand now for one, and by and by for another idea.

Secondly, to do it with quickness

§24．Secondly, men fail of conveying their thoughts, with all the quickness and ease that may be, when they have complex ideas, without having distinct names for them. This is sometimes the fault of the language itself, which has not in it a sound yet applied to such a signification: and sometimes the fault of the man, who has not yet learned the name for that idea he would show another.

Thirdly, therewith to convey the knowledge of things

§25．Thirdly, there is no knowledge of things conveyed by men's words, when their ideas agree not to the reality of things. Though it be a defect, that has its original in our ideas, which are not so conformable to the nature of things, as attention, study, and application might make them: yet it fails not to extend itself to our words too, when we use them as signs of real beings, which yet never had any reality or existence.

How men's words fail in all these

§26．First, he that hath words of any language, without distinct ideas in his mind, to which he applies them, does, so far as he uses them in discourse, only make a noise without any sense or signification; and how learned soever he may seem by the use of hard words, or learned terms, is not much more advanced thereby in knowledge, than he would be in learning, who had nothing in his study but the bare titles of books, without possessing the contents of them. For all such words, however put into discourse, according to the right construction of grammatical rules, or the harmony of well-turned periods, do yet amount to nothing but bare sounds, and nothing else.

§27．Secondly, he that has complex ideas, without particular names for them, would be in no better a case than a bookseller, who had in his warehouse volumes, that lay there unbound, and without titles; which he could therefore make known to others, only by showing the loose sheets, and communicate them only by tale. This man is hindered in his discourse, for want of words to communicate his complex ideas, which he is therefore forced to make known by an enumeration of the simple ones that compose them; and so is fain often to use twenty words, to express what another man signifies in one.

§28．Thirdly, he that puts not constantly the same sign for the same idea, but uses the same words sometimes in one, and sometimes in another signification, ought to pass in the Schools and conversation, for as fair a man, as he does in the market and exchange, who sells several things under the same name.

§29．Fourthly, he that applies the words of any language to ideas, different from those, to which the common use of that country applies them, however his own understanding may be filled with truth and light, will not by such words be able to convey much of it to others, without defining his terms. For however, the sounds are such as are familiarly known, and easily enter the ears of those who are accustomed to them; yet standing for other ideas than those they usually are annexed to, and are wont to excite in the mind of the hearers, they cannot make known the thoughts of him who thus uses them.

§30．Fifthly, he that hath imagined to himself substances such as never have been, and filled his head with ideas which have not any correspondence with the real nature of things, to which yet he gives settled and defined names, may fill his discourse, and perhaps, another man's head, with the fantastical imaginations of his own brain; but will be very far from advancing thereby one jot in real and true knowledge.

§31．He that hath names without ideas, wants meaning in his words, and speaks only empty sounds. He that hath complex ideas without names for them, wants liberty and dispatch in his expressions, and is necessitated to use periphrases. He that uses his words loosely and unsteadily, will either be not minded, or not understood. He that applies his names to ideas, different from their common use, wants propriety in his language, and speaks gibberish. And he that hath ideas of substances, disagreeing with the real existence of things, so far wants the materials of true knowledge in his understanding, and hath, instead thereof, chimeras.

How in substances

§32．In our notions concerning substances we are liable to all the former inconveniencies: v. g. 1. He that uses the word tarantula, without having any imagination or idea of what it stands for, pronounces a good word; but so long means nothing at all by it. 2. He that, in a new-discovered country, shall see several sorts of animals and vegetables, unknown to him before, may have as true ideas of them, as of a horse, or a stag; but can speak of them only by a description, till he shall either take the names the natives call them by, or give them names himself. 3. He that uses the word body sometimes for pure extension, and sometimes for extension and solidity together, will talk very fallaciously. 4. He that gives the name horse, to that idea which common usage calls mule, talks improperly, and will not be understood. 5. He that thinks the name centaur stands for some real being, imposes on himself, and mistakes words for things.

How in modes and relations

§33．In modes and relations generally, we are liable only to the four first of these inconveniencies, (viz.) 1. I may have in my memory the names of modes, as gratitude, or charity, and yet not have any precise ideas annexed in my thoughts to those names. 2. I may have ideas, and not know the names that belong to them; v. g. I may have the idea of a man's drinking, till his colour and humour be altered, till his tongue trips, and his eyes look red, and his feet fail him; and yet not know, that it is to be called drunkenness. 3. I may have the ideas of virtues or vices, and names also, but apply them amiss: v. g. when I apply the name frugality to that idea which others call and signify by this sound, covetousness. 4. I may use any of those names with inconstancy. 5. But in modes and relations, I cannot have ideas disagreeing to the existence of things: for modes being complex ideas, made by the mind at pleasure; and relation being but my way of considering, or comparing two things together, and so also an idea of my own making, these ideas can scarce be found to disagree with any thing existing; since they are not in the mind, as the copies of things regularly made by nature, nor as properties inseparably flowing from the internal constitution or essence of any substance; but, as it were, patterns lodged in my memory, with names annexed to them, to denominate actions and relations by, as they come to exist. But the mistake is commonly in my giving a wrong name to my conceptions; and so using words in a different sense from other people, I am not understood, but am thought to have wrong ideas of them, when I give wrong names to them. Only if I put in my ideas of mixed modes or relations, any inconsistent ideas together, I fill my head also with chimeras; since such ideas, if well examined, cannot so much as exist in the mind, much less any real being, be ever denominated from them.

Seventhly, figurative speech also an abuse of language

§34．Since wit and fancy finds easier entertainment in the world, than dry truth and real knowledge, figurative speeches, and allusion in language, will hardly be admitted, as an imperfection or abuse of it. I confess, in discourses, where we seek rather pleasure and delight, than information and improvement, such ornaments as are borrowed from them, can scarce pass for faults. But yet, if we would speak of things as they are, we must allow, that all the art of rhetoric, besides order and clearness, all the artificial and figurative application of words eloquence hath invented, are for nothing else but to insinuate wrong ideas, move the passions, and thereby mislead the judgment; and so indeed are perfect cheat: and therefore however laudable or allowable oratory may render them in harangues and popular addresses, they are certainly, in all discourses that pretend to inform or instruct, wholly to be avoided; and where truth and knowledge are concerned, cannot but be thought a great fault, either of the language or person that makes use of them. What, and how various they are, will be superfluous here to take notice; the books of rhetoric which abound in the world, will instruct those, who want to be informed: only I cannot but observe, how little the preservation and improvement of truth and knowledge, is the care and concern of mankind; since the arts of fallacy are endowed and preferred. 'Tis evident how much men love to deceive, and be deceived, since rhetoric, that powerful instrument of error and deceit, has its established professors, is publicly taught, and has always been had in great reputation: and, I doubt not, but it will be thought great boldness, if not brutality in me to have said thus much against it. Eloquence, like the fair sex, has too prevailing beauties in it, to suffer itself ever to be spoken against. And 'tis in vain to find fault with those arts of deceiving, wherein men find pleasure to be deceived.

Of the Remedies of the foregoing Imperfections and Abuses

They are worth seeking

§1．The natural and improved imperfections of language, we have seen above at large: and speech being the great bond that holds society together, and the common conduit, whereby the improvements of knowledge are conveyed from one man, and one generation to another, it would well deserve our most serious thoughts, to consider what remedies are to be found for these inconveniences above-mentioned.

Are not easy

§2．I am not so vain to think, that anyone can pretend to attempt the perfect reforming the languages of the world, no not so much as that of his own country, without rendering himself ridiculous. To require that men should use their words constantly in the same sense, and for none but determined and uniform ideas, would be to think, that all men should have the same notions, and should talk of nothing but what they have clear and distinct ideas of. Which is not to be expected by anyone, who hath not vanity enough to imagine he can prevail with men to be very knowing or very silent. And he must be very little skilled in the world, who thinks that a voluble tongue, shall accompany only a good understanding; or that men's talking much or little, shall hold proportion only to their knowledge.

But yet necessary to philosophy

§3．But though the market and exchange must be left to their own ways of talking, and gossipings not be robbed of their ancient privilege: though the Schools, and men of argument would perhaps take it amiss to have anything offered, to abate the length, or lessen the number of their disputes; yet, methinks those, who pretend seriously to search after, or maintain truth, should think themselves obliged to study, how they might deliver themselves without obscurity, doubtfulness, or equivocation, to which men's words are naturally liable, if care be not taken.

Misuse of words the cause of great errors

§4．For he that shall well consider the errors and obscurity, the mistakes and confusion, that is spread in the world by an ill use of words, will find some reason to doubt, whether language, as it has been employed, has contributed more to the improvement or hindrance of knowledge amongst mankind. How many are there, that when they would think on things, fix their thoughts only on words, especially when they would apply their minds to moral matters? And who then can wonder, if the result of such contemplations and reasonings, about little more than sounds, whilst the ideas they annexed to them, are very confused, or very unsteady, or perhaps none at all; who can wonder, I say, that such thoughts and reasonings, end in nothing but obscurity and mistake, without any clear judgement or knowledge?

Obstinacy

§5．This inconvenience, in an ill use of words, men suffer in their own private meditations: but much more manifest are the disorders which follow from it, in conversation, discourse, and arguings with others. For language being the great conduit, whereby men convey their discoveries, reasonings, and knowledge, from one to another, he that makes an ill use of it, though he does not corrupt the fountains of knowledge, which are in things themselves; yet he does, as much as in him lies, break or stop the pipes, whereby it is distributed to the public use and advantage of mankind. He that uses words without any clear and steady meaning, what does he but lead himself and others into errors? And he that designedly does it, ought to be looked on as an enemy to truth and knowledge. And yet, who can wonder, that all the sciences and parts of knowledge, have been so over-charged with obscure and equivocal terms, and insignificant and doubtful expressions, capable to make the most attentive or quick-sighted, very little, or not at all the more knowing or orthodox; since subtlety, in those who make profession to teach or defend truth, hath passed so much for a virtue: a virtue, indeed, which consisting, for the most part, in nothing but the fallacious and illusory use of obscure or deceitful terms, is only fit to make men more conceited in their ignorance, and obstinate in their errors.

And wrangling

§6．Let us look into the books of controversy of any kind, there we shall see, that the effect of obscure, unsteady, or equivocal terms, is nothing but noise and wrangling about sounds, without convincing or bettering a man's understanding. For if the idea be not agreed on, betwixt the speaker and hearer, for which the words stand, the argument is not about things, but names. As often as such a word, whose signification is not ascertained betwixt them, comes in use, their understandings have no other object wherein they agree, but barely the sound, the things, that they think on at that time as expressed by that word, being quite different.

Instance bat and bird

§7．Whether a bat be a bird, or no, is not a question, whether a bat be another thing than indeed it is, or have other qualities than indeed it has, for that would be extremely absurd to doubt of: but the question is, 1. either between those that acknowledged themselves to have but imperfect ideas of one or both of those sorts of things, for which these names are supposed to stand; and then it is a real inquiry, concerning the nature of a bird, or a bat, to make their yet imperfect ideas of it more complete, by examining, whether all the simple ideas, to which combined together, they both give the name bird, be all to be found in a bat: but this is a question only of inquirers, (not disputers,) who neither affirm, nor deny, but examine: or, 2. it is a question between disputants; whereof the one affirms, and the other denies, that a bat is a bird. And then the question is barely about the signification of one, or both these words; in that they not having both the same complex ideas, to which they give these two names, one holds, and t'other denies, that these two names may be affirmed one of another. Were they agreed in the signification of these two names, it were impossible they should dispute about them. For they would presently and clearly see, (were that adjusted between them,) whether all the simple ideas, of the more general name bird, were found in the complex idea of a bat, or no; and so there could be no doubt, whether a bat were a bird, or no. And here I desire it may be considered, and carefully examined, whether the greatest part of the disputes in the world, are not merely verbal, and about the signification of words; and whether if the terms they are made in, were defined, and reduced in their signification (as they must be where they signify anything) to determined collections of the simple ideas they do or should stand for, those disputes would not end of themselves, and immediately vanish. I leave it then to be considered, what the learning of disputation is, and how well they are employed for the advantage of themselves, or others, whose business is only the vain ostentation of sounds; i. e. those who spend their lives in disputes and controversies. When I shall see any of those combatants, strip all his terms of ambiguity and obscurity, (which everyone may do in the words he uses himself) I shall think him a champion for knowledge, truth, and peace, and not the slave of vain-glory, ambition, or a party.

First, remedy to use no word without an idea

§8．To remedy the defects of speech before-mentioned, to some degree, and to prevent the inconveniences that follow from them, I imagine, the observation of these following rules may be of use, till somebody better able shall judge it worth his while, to think more maturely on this matter, and oblige the world with his thoughts on it.

First, a man should take care to use no word without a signification, no name without an idea for which he makes it stand. This rule will not seem altogether needless, to anyone who shall take the pains to recollect how often he has met with such words; as instinct, sympathy, and antipathy, etc. in the discourse of others, so made use of, as he might easily conclude, that those that used them, had no ideas in their minds to which they applied them; but spoke them only as sounds, which usually served instead of reasons, on the like occasions. Not but that these words, and the like, have very proper significations in which they may be used; but there being no natural connexion between any words, and any ideas, these, and any other, may be learned by rote, and pronounced or writ by men, who have no ideas in their minds, to which they have annexed them, and for which they make them stand; which is necessary they should, if men would speak intelligibly even to themselves alone.

Secondly, to have distinct ideas annexed to them in modes

§9．Secondly, 'tis not enough a man uses his words as signs of some ideas, those ideas he annexes them to, if they be simple, must be clear and distinct; if complex, must be determinate, i. e. the precise collection of simple ideas settled in the mind, with that sound annexed to it, as the sign of that precise determined collection, and no other. This is very necessary in names of modes, and especially moral words; which having no settled objects in nature, from whence their ideas are taken, as from their original, are apt to be very confused. Justice is a word in every man's mouth, but most commonly with a very undetermined loose signification: which will always be so, unless a man has in his mind a distinct comprehension of the component parts, that complex idea consists of; and if it be decompounded, must be able to resolve it still on, till he at last comes to the simple ideas, that make it up: and unless this be done, a man makes an ill use of the word, let it be justice, for example, or any other. I do not say, a man needs stand to recollect, and make this analysis at large, every time the word justice comes in his way: but this, at least, is necessary, that he have so examined the signification of that name, and settled the idea of all its parts in his mind, that he can do it when he pleases. If one, who makes his complex idea of justice, to be such a treatment of the person or goods of another, as is according to law, hath not a clear and distinct idea what law is, which makes a part of his complex idea of justice, 'tis plain, his idea of justice itself, will be confused and imperfect. This exactness will, perhaps, be judged very troublesome: and therefore most men will think, they may be excused from settling the complex ideas of mixed modes so precisely in their minds. But yet I must say, till this be done, it must not be wondered, that they have a great deal of obscurity and confusion in their own minds, and a great deal of wrangling in their discourses with others.

And conformable in substances

§10．In the names of substances, for a right use of them, something more is required than barely determined ideas: in these the names must also be conformable to things, as they exist: but of this, I shall have occasion to speak more at large by and by. This exactness is absolutely necessary in inquiries after philosophical knowledge, and in controversies about truth. And though it would be well too, if it extended itself to common conversation, and the ordinary affairs of life; yet I think that is scarce to be expected. Vulgar notions suit vulgar discourses: and both, though confused enough, yet serve pretty well the market, and the wake. Merchants and lovers, cooks and tailors, have words wherewithal to dispatch their ordinary affairs; and so, I think, might philosophers and disputants too, if they had a mind to understand, and to be clearly understood.

Thirdly, propriety

§11．Thirdly, 'tis not enough that men have ideas, determined ideas, for which they make these signs stand; but they must also take care to apply their words, as near as may be, to such ideas as common use has annexed them to. For words, especially of languages already framed, being no man's private possession, but the common measure of commerce and communication, 'tis not for anyone, at pleasure, to change the stamp they are current in; nor alter the ideas they are affixed to; or at least when there is a necessity to do so, he is bound to give notice of it. Men's intentions in speaking are, or at least should be, to be understood; which cannot be without frequent explanations, demands, and other the like incommodious interruptions, where men do not follow common use. Propriety of speech, is that which gives our thoughts entrance into other men's minds with the greatest ease and advantage: and therefore deserves some part of our care and study, especially in the names of moral words. The proper signification and use of terms is best to be learned from those, who in their writings and discourses, appear to have had the clearest notions, and applied to them their terms with the exactest choice and fitness. This way of using a man's words, according to the propriety of the language, though it have not always the good fortune to be understood: yet most commonly leaves the blame of it on him, who is so unskilful in the language he speaks, as not to understand it, when made use of, as it ought to be.

Fourthly, to make known their meaning

§12．Fourthly. But because common use has not so visibly annexed any signification to words, as to make men know always certainly what they precisely stand for: and because men in the improvement of their knowledge, come to have ideas different from the vulgar and ordinary received ones, for which they must either make new words, (which men seldom venture to do, for fear of being thought guilty of affectation or novelty,) or else must use old ones, in a new signification. Therefore after the observation of the foregoing rules, it is sometimes necessary for the ascertaining the signification of words, to declare their meaning; where either common use has left it uncertain and loose; (as it has in most names of very complex ideas) or where the term, being very material in the discourse, and that upon which it chiefly turns, is liable to any doubtfulness or mistake.

And that three ways

§13．As the ideas, men's words stand for, are of different sorts: so the way of making known the ideas, they stand for, when there is occasion, is also different. For though defining be thought the proper way, to make known the proper signification of words; yet there be some words, that will not be defined, as there be others, whose precise meaning cannot be made known, but by definition: and, perhaps, a third, which partake somewhat of both the other, as we shall see in the names of simple ideas, modes, and substances.

First, in simple ideas by synonymous terms or showing

§14．First, when a man makes use of the name of any simple idea, which he perceives is not understood, or is in danger to be mistaken, he is obliged by the laws of ingenuity, and the end of speech, to declare his meaning, and make known what idea he makes it stand for. This, as has been shown, cannot be done by definition: and therefore, when a synonymous word fails to do it, there is but one of these ways left. First, sometimes the naming the subject, wherein that simple idea is to be found, will make its name be understood by those, who are acquainted with that subject, and know it by that name. So to make a countryman understand what feuillemorte [yellowish brown] colour signifies, it may suffice to tell him, 'tis the colour of withered leaves falling in autumn. Secondly, but the only sure way of making known the signification ofthe name of any simple idea, is by presenting to his senses that subject, which may produce it in his mind, and make him actually have the idea, that word stands for.

Secondly, in mixed modes by definition

§15．Secondly, mixed modes, especially those belonging to morality, being most of them such combinations of ideas, as the mind puts together of its own choice; and whereof there are not always standing patterns to be found existing, the signification of their names cannot be made known, as those of simple ideas, by any showing: but in recompense thereof, may be perfectly and exactly defined. For they being combinations of several ideas, that the mind of man has arbitrarily put together, without reference to any archetypes, men may, if they please, exactly know the ideas, that go to each compositions, and so both use these words in a certain and undoubted signification, and perfectly declare, when there is occasion, what they stand for. This, if well considered, would lay great blame on those, who make not their discourses about moral things very clear and distinct. For since the precise signification of the names of mixed modes, or which is all one, the real essence of each species, is to be known, they being not of nature's, but man's making, it is a great negligence and perverseness, to discourse of moral things with uncertainty and obscurity, which is more pardonable in treating of natural substances, where doubtful terms are hardly to be avoided, for a quite contrary reason, as we shall see by and by.

Morality capable of demonstration

§16．Upon this ground it is, that I am bold to think, that morality is capable of demonstration, as well as mathematics: since the precise real essence of the things moral words stand for, may be perfectly known; and so the congruity, or incongruity of the things themselves, be certainly discovered, in which consists perfect knowledge. Nor let anyone object, that the names of substances are often to be made use of in morality, as well as those of modes, from which will arise obscurity. For as to substances, when concerned in moral discourses, their divers natures are not so much inquired into, as supposed; v. g. when we say that 'man is subject to law': we mean nothing by man, but a corporeal rational creature: what the real essence or other qualities of that creature are in this case, is no way considered. And therefore, whether a child or changeling be a man in a physical sense, may amongst the naturalists be as disputable as it will, it concerns not at all the moral man, as I may call him, which is this immoveable unchangeable idea, a corporeal rational being. For were there a monkey, or any other creature to be found, that had the use of reason, to such a degree, as to be able to understand general signs, and to deduce consequences about general ideas, he would no doubt be subject to law, and, in that sense, be a man, how much soever he differed in shape from others of that name. The names of substances, if they be used in them, as they should, can no more disturb moral, than they do mathematical discourses: where, if the mathematicians speak of a cube or globe of gold, or any other body, he has his clear settled idea, which varies not, though it may, by mistake be applied to a particular body, to which it belongs not.

Definitions can make moral discourses clear

§17．This I have here mentioned by the by, to show of what consequence it is for men, in their names of mixed modes, and consequently, in all their moral discourses, to define their words when there is occasion: since thereby moral knowledge may be brought, to so great clearness and certainty. And it must be great want of ingenuity, (to say no worse of it) to refuse to do it: since a definition is the only way, whereby the precise meaning of moral words can be known; and yet a way, whereby their meaning may be known certainly, and without leaving any room for any contest about it. And therefore the negligence or perverseness of mankind, cannot be excused, if their discourses in morality be not much more clear, than those in natural philosophy: since they are about ideas in the mind, which are none of them false or disproportionate; they having no external beings for archetypes which they are referred to, and must correspond with. It is far easier for men to frame in their minds an idea, which shall be the standard to which they will give the name justice, with which pattern so made, all actions that agree shall pass under that denomination, than, having seen Aristides, to frame an idea, that shall, in all things, be exactly like him, who is as he is, let men make what idea, they please of him. For the one, they need but know the combination of ideas, that are put together within in their own minds; for the other, they must inquire into the whole nature, and abstruse hidden constitution, and various qualities of a thing existing without them.

And is the only way

§18．Another reason that makes the defining of mixed modes so necessary, especially of moral words, is what I mentioned a little before, viz. that it is the only way whereby the signification of the most of them can be known with certainty. For the ideas they stand for, being for the most part such, whose component parts nowhere exist together, but scattered and mingled with others, it is the mind alone that collects them, and gives them the union of one idea: and it is only by words, enumerating the several simple ideas which the mind has united, that we can make known to others, what their names stand for; the assistance of the senses in this case not helping us, by the proposal of sensible objects, to show the ideas, which our names of this kind stand for, as it does often in the names of sensible simple ideas, and also to some degree in those of substances.

Thirdly, in substances, by showing and defining

§19．Thirdly, for the explaining the signification of the names of substances as they stand for the ideas we have of their distinct species, both the forementioned ways, viz. of showing and defining, are requisite, in many cases, to be made use of. For there being ordinarily in each sort some leading qualities, to which we suppose the other ideas, which make up our complex idea of that species, annexed, we forwardly give the specific name to that thing, wherein that characteristical mark is found, which we take to be the most distinguishing idea of that species. These leading or characteristical (as I may so call them) ideas, in the sorts of animals and vegetables, is mostly figure, and in inanimate bodies colour, and in some both together. Now,

Ideas of the leading qualities of substances, are best got by showing

§20．These leading sensible qualities are those, which make the chief ingredients of our specific ideas, and consequently the most observable and unvariable part in the definitions of our specific names, as attributed to sorts of substances coming under our knowledge. For though the sound man, in its own nature, be as apt to signify a complex idea made up of animality and rationality, united in the same subject, as to signify any other combination; yet used as a mark to stand for a sort of creatures we count of our own kind, perhaps the outward shape is as necessary to be taken into our complex idea, signified by the word man, as any other we find in it; and therefore why Plato's animal implume bipes latis unguibus, [featherless broad-nailed biped] should not be as good a definition of the name man, standing for that sort of creatures, will not be easy to show: for 'tis the shape, as the leading quality, that seems more to determine that species, than a faculty of reasoning, which appears not at first, and in some never. And if this be not allowed to be so, I do not know how they can be excused from murder, who kill monstrous births, (as we call them,) because of an unordinary shape, without knowing whether they have a rational soul, or no; which can be no more discerned in a well-formed, than ill-shaped infant, as soon as born. And who is it has informed us, that a rational soul can inhabit no tenement, unless it has just such a sort of frontispiece, or can join itself to, and inform no sort of body, but one that is just of such an outward structure.

§21．Now these leading qualities, are best made known by showing and can hardly be made known otherwise. For the shape of an horse, or cassowary, will be but rudely and imperfectly imprinted on the mind by words, the sight of the animals doth it a thousand times better: and the idea of the particular colour of gold, is not to be got by any description of it, but only by the frequent exercise of the eyes about it, as is evident; in those who are used to this metal, who will frequently distinguish true from counterfeit, pure from adulterate, by the sight, where others (who have as good eyes, but yet, by use, have not got the precise nice idea of that peculiar yellow) shall not perceive any difference. The like may be said of those other simple ideas, peculiar in their kind to any substance; for which precise ideas, there are no peculiar names. The particular ringing sound there is in gold, distinct from the sound of other bodies, has no particular name annexed to it, no more than the particular yellow, that belongs to that metal.

The ideas of their powers best by definition

§22．But because many of the simple ideas that make up our specific ideas of substances, are powers, which lie not obvious to our senses in the things as they ordinarily appear; therefore, in the signification of our names of substances, some part of the signification will be better made known, by enumerating those simple ideas, than in showing the substance itself. For he that, to the yellow shining colour of gold got by sight, shall, from my enumerating them, have the ideas of great ductility, fusibility, fixedness, and solubility, in aqua regia, will have a perfecter idea of gold, than he can have by seeing a piece of gold, and thereby imprinting in his mind only its obvious qualities. But if the formal constitution of this shining, heavy, ductile thing (from whence all these its properties flow) lay open to our senses, as the formal constitution, or essence of a triangle does, the signification of the word gold, might as easily be ascertained, as that of triangle.

A reflection on the knowledge of spirits

§23．Hence we may take notice, how much the foundation of all our knowledge of corporeal things, lies in our senses. For how spirits, separate from bodies, (whose knowledge and ideas of these things, is certainly much more perfect than ours) know them, we have no notion, no idea at all. The whole extent of our knowledge, or imagination, reaches not beyond our own ideas, limited to our ways of perception. Though yet it be not to be doubted, that spirits of a higher rank than those immersed in flesh, may have as clear ideas of the radical constitution of substances, as we have of a triangle, and so perceive how all their properties and operations flow from thence: but the manner how they come by that knowledge, exceeds our conceptions.

Ideas also of substances must be conformable to things

§24．But though definitions will serve to explain the names of substances, as they stand for our ideas; yet they leave them not without great imperfection, as they stand for things. For our names of substances being not put barely for our ideas, but being made use of ultimately to represent things, and so are put in their place, their signification must agree with the truth of things, as well as with men's ideas. And therefore in substances, we are not always to rest in the ordinary complex idea, commonly received as the signification of that word, but must go a little further, and inquire into the nature and properties of the things themselves, and thereby perfect, as much as we can, our ideas of their distinct species; or else learn them from such as are used to that sort of things, and are experienced in them. For since 'tis intended their names should stand for such collections of simple ideas, as do really exist in things themselves, as well as for the complex idea in other men's minds, which in their ordinary acceptation they stand for: therefore to define their names right, natural history is to be inquired into; and their properties are, with care and examination, to be found out. For it is not enough, for the avoiding inconveniencies in discourses and arguings about natural bodies and substantial things, to have learned, from the propriety of the language, the common but confused, or very imperfect idea, to which each word is applied, and to keep them to that idea in our use of them: but we must, by acquainting ourselves with the history of that sort of things rectify and settle our complex idea, belonging to each specific name; and in discourse with others, (if we find them mistake us) we ought to tell, what the complex idea is, that we make such a name stand for. This is the more necessary to be done by all those, who search after knowledge, and philosophical verity, in that children being taught words whilst they have but imperfect notions of things, apply them at random, and without much thinking, and seldom frame determined ideas to be signified by them. Which custom, (it being easy, and serving well enough for the ordinary affairs of life and conversation) they are apt to continue, when they are men: and so begin at the wrong end, learning words first, and perfectly, but make the notions to which they apply those words afterwards, very overtly. By this means it comes to pass, that men speaking the proper language of their country, i. e. according to grammar-rules of that language, do yet speak very improperly of things themselves; and by their arguing one with another, make but small progress in the discoveries of useful truths, and the knowledge of things, as they are to be found in themselves, and not in our imaginations; and it matters not much, for the improvement of our knowledge, how they are called.

Not easy to be made so

§25．It were therefore to be wished, that men, versed in physical inquiries, and acquainted with the several sorts of natural bodies, would set down those simple ideas, wherein they observe the individuals of each sort constantly to agree. This would remedy a great deal of that confusion, which comes from several persons, applying the same name to a collection of a smaller, or greater number of sensible qualities, proportionably as they have been more or less acquainted with, or accurate in examining the qualities of any sorts of things, which come under one denomination. But a dictionary of this sort, containing, as it were, a natural history, requires too many hands, as well as too much time, cost, pains, and sagacity, ever to be hoped for; and till that be done, we must content ourselves with such definitions of the names of substances, as explain the sense men use them in. And 'twould be well, where there is occasion, if they would afford us so much. This yet is not usually done; but men talk to one another, and dispute in words, whose meaning is not agreed between them, out of a mistake, that the signification of common words, are certainly established, and the precise ideas, they stand for, perfectly known; and that it is a shame to be ignorant of them. Both which suppositions are false: no names of complex ideas having so settled determined significations, that they are constantly used for the same precise ideas. Nor is it a shame for a man not to have a certain knowledge of anything, but by the necessary ways of attaining it; and so it is no discredit not to know, what precise idea any sound stands for in another man's mind, without he declare it to me, by some other way than barely using that sound, there being no other way, without such a declaration, certainly to know it. Indeed, the necessity of communication by language, brings men to an agreement in the signification of common words, within some tolerable latitude, that may serve for ordinary conversation: and so a man cannot be supposed wholly ignorant of the ideas, which are annexed to words by common use, in a language familiar to him. But common use, being but a very uncertain rule, which reduces itself at last to the ideas of particular men, proves often but a very variable standard. But though such a dictionary, as I have above-mentioned, will require too much time, cost and pains, to be hoped for in this age; yet, methinks, it is not unreasonable to propose, that words standing for things, which are known and distinguished by their outward shapes, should be expressed by little draughts and prints made of them. A vocabulary made after this fashion, would, perhaps with more ease, and in less time, teach the true signification of many terms, especially in languages of remote countries or ages, and settle truer ideas in men's minds of several things, whereof we read the names in ancient authors, than all the large and laborious comments of learned critics. Naturalists, that treat of plants and animals, have found the benefit of this way: and he that has had occasion to consult them, will have reason to confess, that he has a clear idea of apium, or ibex from a little print of that herb, or beast, than he could have from a long definition of the names of either of them. And so, no doubt, he would have of strigil and sistrum, if instead of a curry-comb, and cymbal, which are the English names dictionaries render them by, he could see stamped in the margin, small pictures of these instruments, as they were in use amongst the ancients. Toga, tunica, pallium, are words easily translated by gown, coat, and cloak: but we have thereby no more true ideas of the fashion of those habits amongst the Romans, than we have of the faces of the tailors who made them. Such things as these, which the eye distinguishes by their shapes, would be best let into the mind by draughts made of them, and more determine the signification of such words, than any other words set for them, or made use of to define them. But this only by the by.

Fifthly, by constancy in their signification

§26．Fifthly, if men will not be at the pains to declare the meaning of their words, and definitions of their terms are not to be had; yet this is the least can be expected, that in all discourses, wherein one man pretends to instruct or convince another, he should use the same word constantly in the same sense: if this were done, (which nobody can refuse, without great disingenuity) many of the books extant might be spared; many of the controversies in dispute would be at an end; several of those great volumes, swollen with ambiguous words, now used in one sense, and by and by in another, would shrink into a very narrow compass; and many of the philosophers' (to mention no other,) as well as poets' works, might be contained in a nutshell.

When the variation is to be explained

§27．But after all, the provision of words is so scanty in respect of that infinite variety of thoughts, that men, wanting terms to suit their precise notion, will, notwithstanding their utmost caution, be forced often to use the same word, in somewhat different senses. And though in the continuation of a discourse, or the pursuit of an argument, there be hardly room to digress into a particular definition, as often as a man varies the signification of any term; yet the import of the discourse will, for the most part, if there be no designed fallacy, sufficiently lead candid and intelligent readers, into the true meaning of it: but where that is not sufficient to guide the reader, there it concerns the writer to explain his meaning, and show in what sense he there uses that term.

目录

《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
第一部分　齐物论
第二部分　完美契合
第三部分　何谓真人？
第四部分　命而已！
第五部分　惠子
第六部分　马蹄
第七部分　博学何用？
第八部分　无为之为是谓天
第九部分　天在动吗？
第十部分　真实与幸福
第十一部分　把握生命的目的
第十二部分　勿要问道
第十三部分　何为本真？
第十四部分　后记
参考资料
Part 1　Working Everything Out Evenly
Part 2　Perfect Accord
Part 3　So What is a True Man?
Part 4　Simply Fate!
Part 5　Hui Tzu
Part 6　Horses' Hooves

Part 7　What's the Point of a Great Deal of Knowledge?

Part 8　The Action of Non-action is Called Heaven

Part 9　Does Heaven Move?
Part 10　Reality and Happiness
Part 11　Grasping the Purpose of Life
Part 12　Do Not Ask about the Tao
Part 13　Can I Ask You about Truth?
Part 14　Epilogue
References
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

道法自然

（英汉双语）

庄子　著

［英］马丁·帕尔默

［英］伊丽莎白·布罗伊利　英译

［英］杰伊·拉姆齐

［英］马丁·帕尔默　编选

王相峰　汉译

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道法自然：汉英双语／（春秋）庄子著；王相峰译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3884-6

Ⅰ．①道…　Ⅱ．①庄…②王…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物②道家—通俗读物　Ⅳ．①H319.4:B

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These extracts taken from The Book of Chuang Tzu first published by Arkana 1996

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese
Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

“人法地，地法天，天法道，道法自然”

——《老子》

本书的书名虽取自《老子》，但内容全部摘选自《庄子》，并进行了重新编排。这大概也可反映出庄子与老子的关系。庄子是老子的后学，极致推崇老子，虽然其学说思想与老子不尽相同，但有关“道、德”的根本观念则基本相同，皆为当时一切传统思想之反对派，故经常被人并称为“老庄哲学”。

有关庄子其人，我们知之甚少。《史记》曰：“庄子者，蒙人也，名周。周尝为蒙漆园吏，与梁惠王、齐宣王同时。”《庄子》一书之中也多次提及庄子与惠施往来，且死于惠施之后。但庄子一生的其他事迹，并无更多记载。至于其生卒年月，根据马叙伦《庄子年表》，庄子大约生活于公元前370年至公元前298年。

庄子的学说，胡适认为“只是一个‘出世主义’”，其中《天下篇》最能表现其思想，庄子虽生于世俗，却“独与天地精神往来，……上与造物者游，而下与外死生无终始者为友”。胡适还说“中国古代的出世派哲学至庄子始完全成立”。虽然《史记》中对庄子的评价并不高，说他“著书十余万言，大抵率寓言也”，“皆空语，无事实”。但后世仍有很多人推崇庄学，认为其“文体思想，皆极超旷”，表达了那种“忘我，顺其自然，入世而超世”的深刻体验。其“‘道’‘天’一也”的思想背后，也传达出了“道可道，非常道”之“道不可知”的理念。

本书分为十四部分。第一部分“齐物论”阐明“万物皆为一”，是庄子哲学的中坚思想，也是整个庄子思想的辩证法基础；第二部分“完美契合”藉多个故事传达“顺天而为”的思想，其中就有著名的“庖丁解牛”的故事；第三部分“何为真人？”和第四部分“命而已！”继而探讨了“顺天而为”思想下应具有的人生观和价值观；第五部分是关于“惠子”（即惠施）的，辩论中阐明庄子思想的同时，他们之间的友情也跃然纸上；第六部分“马蹄”则由“马与粘土之遭遇”引出庄子的政治观，就是要“任天顺性”；第七部分“博学何用？”透露出庄子对于知识和幸福的态度，主张“无为而为”；第八部分“无为而为是谓天”继续展开对“无为而为”的讨论，直指“天”与“性”；第九部分“天在动吗？”则深入追问何为“天”之“道”，又回到“无为而为”；第十部分藉另一组故事探讨“真实与幸福”，答案仍是“任天顺性”、“无为而为”；第十一部分“把握生命的目的”阐发“无为而为”的人生观；第十二部分“勿要问道”比苏格拉底“我知道我什么都不知道”走的更远，“道”非但是“不知道”更是“顺性无为”；第十三部分“何为本真？”中的两个故事皆关政治，一“文”一“武”，欲强问道，唯有道法自然；最后，第十四部分则关于庄子在自己生活中如何践行自己的思想。不论是从多方面展开论证，还是从理论到实践，这样的组织安排使得《庄子》有了一个系统的脉络，为理解庄子的思想贡献了一个可供参考的架构。

最后，谈一谈本书的翻译。其实，越来越多的中国古典哲学在西方有了译本，特别是当下中国的影响力日盛。或许有人会问，为何需要将译本再转译成中文呢？当然，曾经有很多人在翻译原是中文的内容时闹出过不少笑话。这自有译者疏忽之故，个中原因我们在此无法深究。但是无论如何，对西方译本的回译，特别是古代文本，有助于我们了解和参照西方学界所进行的解读，毕竟我们对古文的解读也并非总是意见一致。有些译本更是对原文本进行了重新编排，这也有助于我们寻找古代文本内部的系统结构。译者并非庄学专家，知识能力有限，若有不妥之处，还请大家多多指正。

参考书目：

陈柱，《诸子概论》，广西师范大学出版社，2010．

冯友兰，《中国哲学史》，重庆出版社，2009．

胡适，《中国哲学史大纲》，商务印书馆，2011．

第一部分　齐物论

现在，我有话要说。我所说的跟别人所说的是不是属于同一范畴呢？我不知道。在某个层面上，我所说的是不同的。但在另一个层面上，肯定又是相同的，即我所说的和别人所说的没有什么不同。不管是哪种情形，容我尽量把我的意思说给你听。

有开始，就有开始尚未开始之时，就有开始尚未开始之时尚未开始之时。有有，就有无，而且很难说无是否无，或者有是否有。

我刚说了一番话，但是我并不知道在我所说的话里我要说的是否是真的，或者是否真的说了？

天下没有比毛发的末端更大的东西了，泰山相比都算为小；没有比夭折的婴儿更长寿的了，彭祖相比都算短命。

天地与我同时出生，而且万物与我为一。

既然万物皆为一，还有需要进行言说吗？可是我刚刚说了万物皆为一，我就已经进行言说了，不是吗？一加一等于二，二加一等于三。由此推算下去，即便是业务娴熟的会计也可能会弄不明白，何况是一般人呢。如果从“无”到“有”我们得到三，想想如果是从“有”到“有”呢，我们得要走多远！

还是不要开始，让我们呆在原地。

伟大的道没有开始，言说自打开始就已经改变了意义。但是出于“有此”的想法，界限还是出现了。我想说一说这些界限。左与右，相互关系及其影响，区分与异议，效仿与争辩，这些就是所谓的八德。

圣人不会谈论宇宙界限之外的事物——虽然他也不会加以否认。宇宙之内的事物，他虽进行谈论却不会断言。对于《春秋》中所记载的先王的事迹，圣人讨论但不评判。如果有事物被区分，就有事物未被区分；如果有异议存在，就有没有争议的事物存在。

你问，这是什么意思？圣人包容万物，而一般人却只是就事物起争执。这就是为什么我说争执意味着你根本不理解。

伟大的道路没有名字，

伟大的争辩没有言说，

伟大的善行不是行善，

伟大的虚心不是谦虚，

伟大的勇气不是残暴。

清晰明确的道不是道，

起争论的言语无价值，

行善只看眼前终无果，

虚心若被无视即失败，

残暴的勇气没有意义。

……

啮缺问王倪：“老师，你知道万物相一致的是什么吗？”王倪说：“我怎么可能知道？”

“老师，那你知道什么你不知道吗？”

他回答说：“我怎么能知道？”

“那万物都是无知的吗？”

王倪说：“这我怎么可能知道？话虽如此，我还是想试着说点什么。我怎么知道我说我知道的东西不是我不知道的呢？同样地，我怎么知道我认为我不知道的就不是我知道的呢？我想问你几个问题：

‘如果有人睡在一个潮湿的地方，他会浑身疼痛甚至会半身不遂，可是鳗鱼会如此吗？如果有人爬上一棵树，他会害怕发抖，可是猴子会这样吗？这三者之中，谁的居所是最明智的呢？

‘人吃肉，鹿吃草，蜈蚣吃蛇，而猫头鹰和乌鸦吃老鼠。这四者之中，谁的口味是最好的呢？

‘猴子相互结伴，鹿彼此结群。人们说毛嫱和丽姬是世界上最漂亮的女人，可是鱼看见她们会潜水而逃，鸟会飞向天空，鹿也会逃跑。这四者之中，到底是谁知道真正的美呢？依我看，善和义，是非之途，根本就是相互交织的。我想我不可能知道它们之间的区别！’”

啮缺说：“老师，如果你不知道善和恶之间的区别，是不是说完美之人也没有这样的知识呢？”

王倪回答说：“完美之人是纯精神的，他感受不到滚烫沙漠的热度，也感受不到浩瀚水域的冰冷。能劈开高山的闪电和能搅动海水的风暴都不能让他惊恐。这样的人乘着云彩登上日月，遨游于四海内外。死生都不能影响他，他也不关心善恶！”

瞿鹊子问长梧子：

我听老师说：圣人

不劳作，也不寻利，

不行善，也不为害，

而且他也不追求道；

不说话却可以达意，

说话时却无所传达，

超越了尘世的界限。

“老师把所有这些看作是一连串无尽的词语，可在我看来它们就像是有关神秘之道的言论。老师，您认为如何？”

长梧子说：“这样的说法甚至会让黄帝感到困惑，那么孔子怎么可能明白呢！而且，你过于超前了，蛋还未孵化就想计算鸡的数量，看到碗就想到烤好的禽肉。我尽量跟你随便一说，你也随便一听。智者如何能够坐在日月之旁而包容整个宇宙？因为他让万物归于和谐，所以他拒绝差异和混乱，并且无视地位和权力。当一般人匆忙地四处闯荡，圣人却显得愚蠢无知，而且在他看来万物是合而为一的。万物只是顺其自然，万物在他看来都是在做它们应该做的。

“我怎么知道对生的爱不是虚幻呢？或者对死的恐惧不正像一个离家出走的年轻人找不到回家的路？丽姬小姐是边疆守卫艾的女儿。当她被晋国俘获时，她哭得眼泪都把捆绑她的绳子浸湿了；随后她来到了晋王的宫殿，睡在晋王的床上，享用晋王的食物，就后悔之前流眼泪了。我怎么知道人死后不会为他们之前贪生而后悔呢？

“清晨来临，那些梦到在宴会上喝醉的人可能会哭泣呻吟；那些在梦中哭泣呻吟的人待清晨醒来就外出打猎去了。当他们做梦时，他们并不知道是在做梦。确实，在梦中他们可能认为他们在解梦，只有当他们醒来才知道这不过是一场梦。思考和清醒之日终将到来，到那时我们就会知道一切都是一场大梦。只有愚蠢之人才认为他们现在是清醒的，好像他们真得知道发生了什么，谁演王子，谁演仆人。真是愚蠢啊！老师和你都活在梦里。当我说这是梦时，我也在做梦。就这句话也是骗人的。如果万年之后我们能有一次机会见到一位明白这个道理的真正伟大的圣人，这就好像只过去了一上午似的。

“假如你和我进行辩论，你胜过了我，而不是我胜过了你，这难道就意味着你就当然是对的而我就当然是错的吗？如果我胜过了你，是否就能得出我就当然是对的而你因此就是错的呢？我们之中真的有一个是对的而另一个是错的吗？或者是否我们都是对的或者都是错的呢？你和我终究都不知道，而其他人就更不清楚了。如此，我们让谁来给我们正确答案呢？你能问那认为你对的人吗？可是这样的人怎么能够给出一个公正的答案呢？我们能问那认为我对的人吗？可是如果他同意我的意见，他又怎么能够做出公正的评判呢？那么，同样地，我们能问对你我的意见都赞同的人吗？同样地，如果他对你我都赞成，他怎么能给出一个真正的判断呢？那我们能问对你我都持异议的人吗？还是一样，如果他对你我都反对，他怎么能进行真诚的评判呢？很明显，不论你我还是其他任何人相互间都不能做出如此决定。那么，我们是否还应当等待另外有人出现呢？

“等待一个声音来统合一切跟不等待任何人一样没有意义。把所有事物一块儿置于天的平等之下，让它们变化的过程持续无阻，并且学会如何成长到老。把所有事物一块儿置于天的平等之下是什么意思呢？至于何为是非，我要说非亦是，是亦非。但是让我们不要纠缠于此讨论。忘记生，忘记担心是非。投入到那未知的无穷之中，找到属于你的位置！”

罔两问景：“你先是在动，然后又站着不动；你坐下，然后又站起来。你为什么不能自己做决定呢？”

景答道：“我要依赖其他东西来成为我自己吗？难道这个其他的东西自己不也得依赖另外的其他东西吗？我必须得依赖蛇的鳞片或蝉的双翼吗？我怎么能够分辨事物是怎样的呢？我怎么知道事物不是怎样的呢？”

从前，我庄周梦到过自己是一只蝴蝶，飞来飞去，十分开心。我忘记了自己是庄周。然后突然我醒了，又变回庄周了。但是我不能分辨，到底我是庄周梦见自己是一只蝴蝶，还是我是一只蝴蝶梦见自己现在成了庄周呢？无论如何，庄周和蝴蝶之间肯定是有某种区别的！我们可以称之为事物的转化。

第二部分　完美契合

庖丁为文惠君宰杀一头牛。他手上的每一个动作、肩膀的每一次耸动、双脚的每一次迈步、膝盖的每一次推抵、肉撕裂时发出的每一声以及下刀时所发出的嗖嗖之声，都是那么地完美契合，就好比《桑林》的舞蹈或《经首》的旋律。

“啊，太棒了！”文惠君说道：“你的技艺为何如此高超呢？”

庖丁放下他的刀然后说道：“属下最爱的是道，它优于任何技艺。当我最开始宰牛的时候，我看到的只是一整头牛。三年后，我就学会了不把牛看成一个整体。现在我是借着我的心智来行动，而不是用我的双眼。我不去管那感觉，而是追随着我的灵魂。我看到了那自然的线条，我的刀子划过那大的空隙、顺着那大的腔孔，这是将已存在的为我所用。因此，我避开了那些大的肌肉，更别说那大的骨头了。一个好的厨师一年换一把刀，因为他用刀切。一个普通的厨师却不得不一个月换一把刀，因为他用刀砍。现在我这把刀已经用了十九年了，用它宰杀了几千头牛。但是，它的刀刃仍像刚开过光一样锋利。两个关节之间是空隙，而刀刃却没有什么厚度。如果你把没有厚度的刀刃切进这样的空隙之中，是有足够空间的，当然足以让刀划过。不过，当我碰到比较困难的部分，我能够看出它不好处理，我就会小心谨慎。我仔细观察，谨慎移动。然后，轻轻地，我滑动刀子，直到肉都分开，像一块土掉到地上一样散开。我手持刀站在那里，环顾四周，然后心满意足地把刀擦干净收起来。”

文惠君说：“妙极了！我听了庖丁说的话，从他的话里我学到了尽享此生的方法。”

公文轩看到右师时，十分惊讶，说道：“此人是谁？为何他只有一只脚？这是天生的还是人为的？”

右师说道：“天生的，不是人为的。天赋予我生命，同时它只给了我一只脚。人的相貌是天生的，因此我知道我这是天生的，不是人为的。沼泽里的野鸡每走十步啄食一次，每走百步喝水一次，但它可不想被养在笼子里。即便你待它如国王，它的灵魂也是不开心的。”

老子死后，秦失前来为他哀悼。他叫喊了三声后就离开了。

老子的一个弟子说道：“难道老师不是你的朋友吗？”

他回答说：“没错。”

“那么你真的以为这样的哀悼方式是最好的吗？”

“是的。起先我以为这些人是真正的人，但是现在我不这么确定了。我进来哀悼的时候，有老人在哭泣，就好像他们失去了自己的孩子一样；有年轻人在痛哭，如同自己的母亲去世了一般。这样的一群人聚在一起，不停地瞎聊，但是老子可没让他们来这儿聊天；而且还哭哭啼啼，虽然老子并不想要别人为他流眼泪。这是违背天意，沉浸在情绪之中，忽视了天的赋予。古人称之为违背天理的后果。你老师来到这个世界，是因为他应当出生。现在他死，也是完全自然的。如果你准备接受并顺其自然，悲伤和喜悦都不能触碰到你。古人将其视为神的工作，让我们脱离束缚。

“我们可以指着那燃尽的木材，但是其上烧过的火，我们却不知道它去到何方。”

……

颜阖即将成为卫灵公长子的老师，所以他前去拜访蘧伯玉说：“有一个人，天性没有道德。如果我让他只是顺其自然，国家将岌岌可危；如果我尽力让他回归有节制的生活，那么我的生命将有危险。他只能认识到他人的过分举动，却不能看到自己的。在这种情况下，我该怎么办呢？”

蘧伯玉说：“问得好！要警惕，要小心，保证你自己是正确的。外表上要表示赞同，心里要保持满足和谐。但是，这些策略都有风险。不要让你的外在态度影响你的内在自我，也不要让你的内在自我表现于外。如果你使自己陷入了他做事的方式之中，你会被推翻、毁灭、摧毁，并最终溃败。如果你内心的和谐表现于外，你将会获得声名，然而你会被称为恶人。如果他做事像个孩子，那么跟他在一起时就表现得像个孩子；如果他不允许有任何限制，那就按他说的做。如果他跨越栅栏，就跟着他！只有理解他，然后才能巧妙地引领他改过。

“你难道不知道螳螂的故事吗？愤怒之中，它挥舞着它的手臂阻挡快速行进的马车，却不知道它无力阻止，还对它自己的力量信心满满哩！要警惕，要小心！如果你如此盲目自信，你将遭遇同样的危险。

“难道你不知道训虎师的做法吗？他不会给老虎活的动物做食物，害怕过度刺激它们会让它们爱上杀戮。他甚至都不给它们整个的动物尸体，害怕激起它们撕碎动物的怒气。他观察它们的食欲，意识到它们的凶猛。老虎和人不同，但是如果你懂得如何去适应它们，你可以训练它们听从训练师的指令。那些违逆老虎天性的人不会活得很久。

“爱马的人用精美的篮子和瓶子收集马粪和马尿。可是，当一只蚊子或牛虻落在马身上，马夫突然地将其轰走时，马会挣脱马嚼子、损坏马具并伤到前胸。马夫是出于爱马尽量去做那有益的事情，可是最终结果却适得其反。因此我们更应行事谨慎啊！”

在去齐国的路上，木匠石来到一个叫曲辕的地方。他在那里看到一棵橡树，被当作土地神明的庙宇敬拜。这棵树那样地大，足以遮蔽一千头牛。它有一百抱那么粗，高耸超过山顶足有八十英尺处才开始发枝。可以被开凿成整艘船的树枝就有十根。大量的人前来参观，使这个地方有股节日的气氛，但是木匠石都没环视一圈就继续赶路了。他的助手仔细观察过这棵树后，紧追上他的老师说：“自从我首次拿起斧头追随您以来，还没见过这样的树木呢。先生，您为什么都不停下来看一眼就继续赶路呢？”

他说：“安静，啥也别说了！这棵树没啥用。用它做船会沉，做棺木会很快腐烂，做家具会散成碎片，做门会到处渗出树液，做梁柱会生蛀虫。这棵树没用，什么也做不了。因此它才能活这么长。”

石师傅返程的时候，这棵树在梦中向他显灵，说：“你到底要把我比作什么？用于观赏的果树吗？山楂树、梨树、柑橘树、葫芦或其他果树之类的树吗？他们的果实成熟时会被打掉，树木因此而遭罪。大的树枝会遭到破坏，小的树枝会被折断。因为它们有用，它们就遭罪，所以不能尽享天所赋予的寿命。对于人们所进行的此类破坏，它们只能怪罪自己有用。万物皆如此。我花费了很长时间学会变得无用，尽管有那么几次我差点就被摧毁。不过，现在我已经完善了无用之术，对我来说，这很有用！如果我以前有用，我能长这么大吗？再说，你我皆是物。一物怎能对他物加以评判呢？你这个终将死去的无用之人又怎能了解一棵无用之树呢？”

木匠石醒来之后就把他所做的梦告诉他的学徒。学徒说：“如果它想变得无用，为什么还被用作土地神明的庙宇呢？”

石说：“嘘！别说了！这棵树正好在此，因此变成了祭坛。这样它才能保护自己，免受那些尚未意识到它无用之人的伤害。如果它不是祭坛，就有被砍伐掉的危险。另外，这棵树不是一般的树，所以用一般的言语来谈论它可就是不得要领了。”

南伯子綦在商地的山丘之间漫游，碰到一棵巨大而不寻常的树，树下可以为一千辆马车提供荫蔽，全部都能被遮挡住。子綦说：“这是怎样的树啊？它肯定是世上最棒的木材！”但是，当他抬头看时，看到小一点的树枝是那样的弯曲变形、长满树瘤，根本就不能用作房梁；往下看，看到树干也是弯曲变形的，不能用作好的棺木。他舔了一片叶子，感觉嘴唇被擦伤了，很疼。他又闻了闻，这一下差点发疯，就跟大醉了三天似的。

子綦说：“这棵树肯定毫无用处，因此它才能长这么大。啊哈！这就是圣人赖以生存的那种无用啊。

“在宋国有一个区域为荆氏之地，特别适合种植梓树、柏树和桑树。不过，那些有一握多粗的树，被要为他们的猴子做木桩的人砍了；那些有三四指距宽的树，被要给大房子做梁木的人砍了；那些有七八指距宽的树，被想要他们的棺木每一面都是整个厚板的君主和富人砍了。因此，这些树都不能活过天赋予给它们的寿命，反而在它们生命的黄金时期被人用斧子砍掉。这都是有用的后果啊！献祭时，把有白色额头的牛、鼻孔上翻的猪以及患有痔疮的人作为祭品献给河神是没有用的。僧人知道这些，因此他们视这些生物为不祥的。但是，圣人却因相同的原因而对它们高度评价。

“支离疏身体残疾，下巴陷进了他的肚脐，肩膀高过了头顶，发髻指着天，五脏都被挤压到了身体的顶部，两条大腿紧紧顶着肋骨。他靠磨针和洗衣服挣的钱足以糊口。他给人去糠筛米挣的钱能养活十个人。官员来征兵时，他大摇大摆地闲逛，不必躲藏；官员想要组织大批人员服劳役时，因为他身体畸形，也没人去找他。反过来，当官员向体弱之人分发粮食时，他却可领到三大份，还有十捆柴。如果像他这样身体畸形的人都能够养活自己并尽享天赋的寿命，又何况那仅在道德层面上畸形的人呢！”

……

在鲁国有一个身残之人名叫叔山无趾。他拖着残肢来见孔子。孔子说：“你以前不谨慎所以才遭此厄运。现在才来见我为时已晚。”

无趾说：“因为我的无知和对身体照顾不周，我失去了一只脚。现在我来找您是因为我还有比脚更重要的东西想要保全。没有什么东西是苍天不能覆盖的，也没有什么东西是大地不能承载的。我本希望先生您可以做我的天地，没有想到您会这样待我。”

孔子说：“我真是愚蠢。先生是善人，请不要走，我想要跟您分享我所学到的。”

可是，无趾还是走了，孔子说：“要注意啦，学生们！无趾，伟大啊，虽然失去了一只脚却仍然想通过学习来弥补他的过错。你们个个身体健全，岂不更应该要学习！”

无趾把他的故事讲给老子听，说：“孔子肯定尚未成为完美之人，不是吗？他好像还是沉溺于追求名誉声望而不能自拔，好像并未懂得完美之人将名声视同枷锁。”

老子说：“为什么不帮他认识到死生是一回事，是非也是一回事，好让他自枷锁中解脱呢？”

无趾反问：“如果是天在惩罚他，他又如何能摆脱呢？”

鲁哀公问孔子说：“卫国有一人，相貌丑陋，叫哀骀它。但是在他身边的那些人都敬佩他，若女人看到他，便跑到他们的父母跟前说：‘我宁愿做这位君子的小妾也不愿做别人的妻子。’这样的事情发生过不止十次。从未有人听说他引领过任何东西，倒是经常附随别人。他不强大，不能救别人于危亡之中；他也不富有，不能充实别人的肚皮。况且，他是那样的丑陋，足以吓到全世界的人。他从不带头干什么，只是附和别人的提议，对于自己家四面墙以外的世界一无所知。但是人们成群结队地来找他。很明显，他和普通人不一样，因此我召他前来见我。他确实丑陋，足以让全世界的人都害怕他。可是他跟我在一起还不到一个月，我就开始欣赏他了。不到一年，我就完全信赖他了。因为国家尚未有主政的大臣，所以我请他担任此职。对于我的请求，他的反应是那么地难过，那么地羞怯，如同要拒绝一般。我为自己感到羞愧，但最终还是把国家交给了他。不久后，他便起身离开了。我很难过，我觉得这是重大的损失，因为没有人可以与我分担治国的重担了。你说，这是什么样的人呢？”

孔子说：“我曾经出使楚国，看到一些小猪仔正奋力在它们死去的母亲身上吸奶。可不一会儿它们就全都站起来离开了。因为母亲似乎不再注意它们，所以它们也不再感到与母亲间的亲密了。它们爱母亲不是爱她的躯体，而是那给予躯体生命的东西。如果一个人在战场上被杀，葬礼上授予他的战争荣誉对他来说没有什么用处。失去双脚的人不会喜爱鞋子。因为在这两种情况下，他们失去了那让这些东西有价值的理由。没错，天子的妻室不用修剪她们的指甲也不用穿耳洞；一个新近结婚的君子会远离宫廷，免于那繁重的义务。照料身体要花费如此多的精力，想想要保存道德需要怎样的照料吧！虽然哀骀它什么都不说，人们却信任他。他什么都不做，人们却爱戴他。他能够使别人情愿把国家政权交给他，还唯恐他不接受。他必定是一个具有完美品格和无形道德之人。”

“你说的‘完美品格’是什么意思？”哀公问。

孔子回答道：“死亡、出生、存在和烦恼、吉兆和凶兆、财富、贫穷、有用和无用、荣誉和责备、饥饿和口渴、寒冷和炎热——所有这些都是世界运行的方式、命运的结果。日夜交替，但是我们却无法知道它们来自何处。不要让这样的事扰乱你内在的平衡，也不要让这样的事使你心生烦恼。如果你能平衡且享受日夜，掌控它们并为之陶醉，而且能够夜以继日地始终如此并统和万物，就能够造就一颗应变的心，这就是完美品格。”

“那‘无形道德’又是什么意思？”

“静止的水，可以在其中发现完美的平衡。这样的水就是我们所有人的榜样。保持内心和谐，不让任何外在之事影响它。道德，即是真正平衡的结果。道德没有任何形状或形式，但任何事情都不能没有它。”孔子说。

第三部分　何谓真人？

一个人若既懂得天道又通晓人道便达到完美了。懂得天，他便和天一同成长。懂得人性，用他的明智所知道的，来培养他的明智所不知道的，因此能获得善终而不是英年早逝。这便是完美。

虽然如此，但事实上问题仍然存在。真正的理解必然有所适用，可适用的对象本身却是不确定的。我怎么知道我称为天的不是人？或者我称为人的不是天呢？

只有真人才能理解。那么何谓真人？古时真人不与贫穷相抗争，也不在财富之中寻求圆满——因为他没有什么宏伟蓝图。因此，他从不为任何失败而懊悔，也不为任何成功而狂喜。他测量高度时毫无畏惧，探测深度时毫无困难，穿过火焰时毫无疼痛。就是这种人，他的理解已经将其提升到接近道了。

古时的真人睡时无梦，醒时无忧。他吃饭而非品尝，深呼吸，非常之深。真人从双脚往上全身呼吸，而普通人仅从喉咙呼吸。蹩脚之人说话如同呕吐一般。为贪婪和欲望所吞噬，在天道面前他们只是浅薄。

古时真人并不恋生，亦不畏死。他来时，无所期望；他去时，毫无抗拒。他静静地去，他静静地来，就是这样。他并不打算忘记他的起源，也没兴趣知道以后的遭遇。他不仅乐意接受任何事物，并且会忘记他之前已接受的事物并将其赠送。他并不偏爱心而是偏爱道，并将天道置于人道之上。这就是真人。

像这样，他内心健忘，

面容平静，额头舒展；

凄冷似秋，温暖似春。

高兴愤怒如四季变化。

面对万物，行为得当，

却没人知道最后结局。

故圣人即便召集军队，

征战列国，让其臣服，

也不会失去人民爱戴。

他本性宽宏造福万代，

但他却并不热爱世人。

圣人不追求有福同享。

仁人不流露自身情感。

智者不等待自然天性。

学者平衡利好与破坏。

君子不为求名而迷失。

迷失真我和道路的人，

就没有能力指挥别人。

……

古时的真人显得出世，

也就没有失败的危险。

看似匮乏却毫不拿取。

随心所欲却不好批评。

明显虚空却毫无炫耀。

开心地笑，似很满足。

反应快速，似无选择。

悲伤时，他表现出来。

满意时，他道德从容。

安静时，他天人合一。

骄傲时，他放荡不羁。

他的天性好像不可知。

从不在乎，忘其欲言。

他视法律为政府外形。

将仪式礼仪视为翅膀，

将知识视为符合时宜。

他还将道德视为得当。

因视法律为政府外形，

故他可灵活处理死刑。

因他将仪式视为翅膀，

他可与社会和谐相处。

因视知识为符合时宜，

他理解万事自然之道。

因他将道德视为得当，

才能跟领袖人物同行。

所以他自发采取行动，

别人还以为代价很高。

因此他所追求的是一。

而他所否认的也是一。

一是一，不一也是一。

一是说，他与天合一。

不一是说，与人合一。

当天与人没有争执时，

我们就能说是真人了。

死亡和出生是有定数的。就像黑夜过后必有黎明一样确定无疑，死生乃天命注定。这超出了人的掌控能力，事情就是这样的。一些人将天视为他们的父亲并一直爱他。对于那更伟大的，他们又该献上多少虔诚呢！一些人视他们的君主胜过他们自己，愿意为他献出生命。对于那比他们的君主更真的，他们又该献上多少生命呢！

当泉水干涸的时候，人们发现鱼都搁浅在地上。它们用自身的水分来保持彼此潮湿，用它们的粘液来让彼此湿润。就算它们在河流和湖泊里只能彼此相忘，也岂不是更好。人们赞美尧而批判桀，但是如果人们把他俩都忘掉而只是顺从道，岂不是更好。宇宙给予了我这躯体的负担，使生命变成挣扎，让我到老年时休息，死后才获得安宁。因此，那让生活美好的，同样也让死亡美好。

一条船可以藏于峡谷之中，一张渔网可以藏于池塘之中，这样你可能认为它们因此就安全了。但是，夜半之时会有壮汉前来将它们拿走。眼光狭小之人只是不明白将小东西藏于大东西之中并不意味着它们就不会被偷走。如果你将取自天下之物藏于天下，它就没有地方可以遗失了！这就是万物的真理。拥有人形是一件高兴的事，但是在宇宙可能的形式中，其他形式也同样好。存在着无数的可能性难道不是一件幸事吗？圣人要去那无物逃离他的地方，安心地在那里与万物共存。无论英年早逝还是年华老去，不论是开始还是结束，他都欣然接受，将它们看作是同样好——他应该成为别人的榜样。如果是这样，那么那维系生命万物、作为一切变化起源的又该是我们怎样的榜样呢！

伟大的道既有内在真实又有外在表现，但它是无为、无形的。

它可以被传递，但不能被接收。

它可以被获得，但不能被看见。

它根植于自身，在开天辟地前，

它就已存在，并将永远地存在。

它赋予神灵以神性，开天辟地。

它先于元气存在却不能说崇高；

它处宇宙四方之下却不能说深。

它先于天地而生却不能说是老。

它远比古代更为古老却并不老。

……

子祀、子舆、子犁和子来在一起交谈，说道：“如果有谁能如此想象：‘无’是他的头，‘生’是他的背，而‘死’是他的尾，并且知道死生存亡都是一样的、相同的——这样的人就应该是我们的朋友。”四个人都笑了，心生默契，于是成为朋友。

不久，子舆生病了。子祀前去探望，子舆说：“造物主真是伟大啊！他让我身体畸形。我的背就如同那驼背之人，我所有的脏器都跑到上方，而且下巴也陷进了肚脐中，肩膀升到了脑袋以上，发髻都指着天了！”他已阴阳失调。可是他却心中平静，毫无忧虑。他蹒跚到井边，往井里看他的倒影，然后说：“我的天啊！造物主已经让我变得完全畸形了！”

子祀问道：“你讨厌这个样子吗？”

“不，我为什么要讨厌呢？比方说，我的左臂可能会变成一只小公鸡，那样的话我就能够在晚上报时了。或许，最后我的右臂会变成一把十字弓，那样的话我就能猎杀一只鸟来吃。我的屁股也可能会变成车轮，我的灵魂变成一匹马，那我就会骑上马出去兜一圈。毕竟，到那时我就再也不需要其他车辆了。我得生是因为时机到了，同样时机到了我也会死去。那些顺从自然的进程而默默前行的人不会为喜乐或悲伤而担忧。这样的人在以前被认为是实现自由、摆脱束缚了。那些不能实现自我解脱的人被外物所束缚。即便如此，也没有什么可以胜过天——事实一直如此。这么说来我又为什么要讨厌现在的样子呢？”

后来子来生病了。喘喘嘘嘘地快要死了。他的妻子和儿女都在他身旁哀伤。子犁前来看望他，子来却说：“闭嘴，出去！你想要扰乱变化的进程吗？”

子犁倚在门口评论道：

“造物主何其伟大！

要把你变成什么？

要派你去向何方？

重生为老鼠肝脏？

还是变成虫的臂？”

子来说：

“当父母让子女到某地的时候，

不论东南西北，子女皆听从。

阴阳二气是我们人类的父母。

它们让我死，如果我不遵从，

这也只能算是我的刚愎任性。

我的死亡根本不是它们的错！

宇宙赋予我形体，使我出生，

引领我步入暮年，安于死亡。

若喜悦生命，也须喜悦死亡。

一个好的匠人，打铁的时候，

会不高兴，如果铁跳出来说：

‘一定要把我做成镆铘一样。’

我既已足够大胆，呈现人形，

若我说：‘我要做人，要做人。’

造物主定会有些怀疑地看我！

若天地是熔炉，自然是工匠，

它会派我去不适宜的地方吗？

让我们平静死去，安静醒来。”

第四部分　命而已！

子舆和子桑是朋友。刚好下了十天的雨，子舆就说：“子桑可能有麻烦了。”于是他包好一些食物带给他。来到子桑的家门口，他听到奇怪的声音，有人正一边弹琵琶一边唱：

“父啊！母啊！天啊！人啊！”

歌者的声音听上去好像即将要消逝了，却努力要唱完那诗文。子舆进门后就问：“子桑，你为何如此歌唱？”

他答道：“我正努力弄明白是什么让我衰败至此？我的父母肯定不想让我这么穷吧？天待万物都是一样的。地承载万物也是一样的。天地也不想我贫穷，不是吗？我想弄明白是谁如此安排，但是我找不到答案。如果你非要下个结论，这不过是命而已。”

……

天根在去殷山南面旅行的路上。他抵达蓼水，在那里碰到了无名人，就问他：“我想问问你如何治理天下万物？”

无名人答道：“走开，你这愚蠢的笨蛋！多么让人讨厌的问题啊！我正和造物主一起遨游。要是太累了，我便乘着自在虚无之鸟，去那世界四方之外，遨游于无处之所、无有之地。你为什么要打断我并用如何治理天下万物这样的问题来扰乱我的心？”

天根又问了同样的问题。无名人答道：

“让你的心在质朴之中旅行。

与那无法定义的合为一体。

让万物都保持自然的样子。

而不要怀有你个人的观点。

这就是治理天下万物之法。”

阳子居前去拜访老子，他说：“有这么一个人，他热情且谨慎，有清晰的见解和智慧，并且从不间断地学习道。这样的人肯定是有大智慧的君王了吧？”

老子说：“和圣人比，这样的人只是一个谦卑的仆人，被他的工作所束缚，疲惫不堪、心中苦恼。据说，人们猎杀老虎和猎豹是因为它们的皮毛美丽。猴子和狗也因为它们的技能而被人套上绳索。它们怎么能够和有大智慧的君王比呢？”

阳子居吃惊地说：“恕我大胆问问有大智慧的君王是如何治理的？”

老子说：

“这就是大智慧君王的治理之道！

他的工作影响天下万物，却好像什么都没做。

他的权威延伸到所有生灵，但没有人依赖他。

他虽没有名望或荣光，然而万物都达成完满。

他于神秘之处立足，并且于虚无之境中遨游。”

郑国有一个鬼神巫师叫季咸。他能够预知人的生死；他知道天降的好运和灾祸；他知道幸福和痛苦、人生和寿命，能具体到年、月、周和日，好像他自己就是神一样。郑国的人一旦看到他走过来，就会逃走。列子前去看他，却被迷住了。他回去就告诉壶子：“先生，我原以为你的道是完美，但是现在我找到更好的了。”

壶子说：“我以前向你展示的只是我讲道的外在文本，不是它的内核。你怎么能认为已掌握了我的道呢？如果你有母鸡却没有公鸡，你怎么能够获得鸡蛋呢？你在世界面前炫耀你的道。这个人因此才可以算出你的运数。你把这个巫师带来我们见见面。”

第二天列子就把这个巫师带来见壶子。当他和列子一同离开壶子的家时，巫师说：“天啊！你的老师要死了。实际没几天可活了——他可能最多活七天。我看到了一个奇怪的景象——如同打湿的灰烬一般。”

列子回到屋内，哭得那样厉害，泪水都浸湿了大衣，并把他听到的告诉了壶子。壶子说：“我让自己看起来如同大地。我就像山一样坚固，什么都没向他显露。他可能把我看成了一本合上的书，看上去没有德行。如果可以，你再把他带来。”

第二天，列子又和那个巫师一起来见壶子。当他们出去后，巫师对列子说：“你的老师碰到我多走运啊！他好多了。没错，他确实有活力了。生命又重新流动起来了。”

列子回到屋内，将巫师的话告诉给壶子。壶子说：“我让自己看起来好比是天，名声和财富都不存于心。我的自然之状在我身上自然流露。他在我身上看到了生命全部的和自然的运行。如果可以，你再把他带来。”

第二天，他们又一起来见壶子。出门后，巫师对列子说：“你的老师每次都不一样。我在他的脸上捕捉不到运数。如果他能回归到某种一致性上，我再来看他。”

列子回到屋内向壶子转告了此事。壶子说：“我向他展示自己，就像那伟大的虚无，其中万物皆平等。他几乎必然在我身上看到了我内心力量之间的和谐。当水流动的时候，会有漩涡；水域平静的地方，会有漩涡；水域聚集的地方，也会有漩涡。一共有九种类型的漩涡，我只向他展示了三种。如果可以，你再把他带来。”

第二天他们两个又来见他。可是，都还没有坐定，巫师就慌慌张张地跑掉了。壶子说：“去追他！”

列子在后面追他。但是追不上他。回来后他对壶子说：“他跑了，我没追上。我追不上他。”

壶子说：“我只是向他展示迄今尚未揭示的潜能。我所展示的自己不知道谁是谁，也不知道何物是何物。我达到随心所欲地流转和变化。因此他才逃离。”

由此，列子意识到迄今为止真正的道他什么都没学到，所以他就回家了。三年期间他从不出门。他为妻子做饭，像待人一样养猪。对于学业他毫无兴趣。他排除自己的欲望，追求真理。他的身体如同变成了土地一般。万物之中，他一直与一相合，终身如此。

不要渴求名望。

不要谋划打算。

不要尽力作为。

不要努力求知。

保持自然，但不要将其视为任何。

配合天赋予的一切，但不求拥有。

只是保持虚无。

完美之人心如明镜。

它不探求事物。

它不寻找事物。

它不寻求知识，只作回应。

故能应对一切，不受伤害。

……

踏上真理之路的人不会丢失内在天性。

对于这样的人，那联合的没有问题；

那分开的没有关系；

那长的不会太长；

那短的不会太短。

比方说，鸭子的腿短，

但要拉长会造成痛苦。

鹤的腿长，

但要缩短会导致忧伤。

天生为长的我们不应削减，

天生为短的我们不应拉长。

因为那是无济于事的。

或许，可以说，仁和义不是人性所固有的？看看那些想要表现友善的人所忍受的焦虑有多少吧。

第五部分　惠　子

惠子对庄子说：“魏王给了我一颗大葫芦的种子，我种了，长出的果实很大，足以盛五斗多的任何东西。于是我就用它盛水，结果装满后太沉了都提不起来。我就把它切成两半来做瓢，但是又太笨拙了，根本没法用。不是说它们不够大，我只是发现我不会使用它们，所以我就把它们毁掉了。”

庄子说：“惠子啊，问题当然是你不知道如何使用大东西了。宋国有一个人，他能制作一种乳膏，保护双手不龟裂，于是他的家人就一代一代地以漂洗丝绸为生。一位行人听说之后便提出用一百黄金购买这个秘方。所有的家庭成员聚到一起商量如何回复，说：‘我们一代一代地漂洗丝绸，可是赚的钱不足数金；现在一个早上我们就可以赚得一百金！卖了吧。’于是这位行人得到了秘方就前去见吴王。吴王正与越国进行争战。吴王授权行人指挥军队，冬天最寒冷的时候他们在水上与越人作战，对越人施以了毁灭性打击，行人则获赠了他所征服区域中的一大块土地作为奖赏。同样防止双手龟裂的乳膏却导致两种情形：一人获得了封地，而其他人却止步于一直漂洗丝绸，因为他们使用这个秘方的方法如此不同。那，先生，你有一个大葫芦，足以盛五斗，可是你为何不用它来做大瓶子，这样你就可以借此在河湖上漂流了，而不是把它们看作无用之物处理掉呢？惠子啊，是因为你脑子长草了啊！”

惠子对庄子说：“我有一棵大树，人们都说没用。它的树干到处是结，没有木匠愿意加工它，而且它的树枝是那样弯弯曲曲，没法用直尺和圆规丈量。所以，尽管它长在路旁，所有木匠都不屑一顾。先生，您所发表的言论，浮夸而无用，因此所有人都不屑一顾。”

庄子说：“先生，你难道没有见过野猫和黄鼠狼吗？它趴在那，弯曲着身子等待；它东蹦西跳，也不管高低；直到落入陷阱，死在网罗之中。还有牦牛，它就像天空中的云那么庞大。它是大，但是不能凭此事实就可捉老鼠。现在，先生你，有一棵大树却不知怎么用。那你为何不把它种在旷野之中，然后你就可以去漫游或在树荫下休憩呢？天下没有斧头会攻击它，不会缩短它的寿命，因为事物若无用便再也不会感到不安了。”

……

惠子问庄子：“一个人有没有可能没有任何情绪？”

庄子说：“当然。”

惠子问：“一个人没有情绪了——你还可以称他为人吗？”

庄子答道：“道赋予他面容，天提供给他形体，怎么能得出结论说他不能被称为人呢？”

“如果他已被称为人，怎么能得出他没有情绪呢？”

庄子说：“我所说的情绪不是这个意思。当我说一个人没有情绪，我是说一个人不让善恶影响他。他万事顺其自然，让生命以它自己的方式延续。”

惠子说：“若他不干预生命，那他又如何照看自己呢？”

“道赋予他面容，天提供给他形体。他不让善恶影响自己。可是你现在呢，你把灵魂穿在衣袖上，竭尽气力撑着自己站在树上喃喃而语，或者，趴在桌子上睡觉。天赋予你形体，你却在无意义的争辩之中将其耗尽。”

……

惠子被任命为梁国的宰相，庄子前去见他。有人告诉惠子说：“庄子要来了，因为他要取代你的位置。”这让惠子很惊恐，他花了三天三夜搜遍了全国，想要找出这个陌生人。

庄子去见他时说：“南方有一种鸟叫做雏凤，先生，你知道吗？这种鸟，它从南海升起，飞向北海。它只在海棠树上休憩，只吃楝树的果实，只喝甘泉中的水。曾经有一只猫头鹰，爪子上紧抓着一只快要腐烂的老鼠的尸体，抬头瞥见它就说：‘嘘！’我说你啊，先生，你主政梁国，你就觉得有必要把我吓唬走吗？”

庄子和惠子一同在濠水的堰堤上散步，庄子就说：“你看到鱼儿是怎样跃出水面、随心所欲地游来游去了吗？这就是鱼真正的快乐。”

惠子说：“你又不是鱼，你如何知道鱼喜欢什么？”

庄子说：“你又不是我，你怎么知道我不知道鱼喜欢什么。”

惠子说：“我不是你，所以我肯定不知道你到底知道什么。不过，很显然你也不是鱼，你必然也不知道鱼真正喜欢什么。”

庄子说：“哎，如果你不介意，还是让我们回到你最开始的问题吧。你问我如何知道鱼真正的快乐到底是什么。因此，你问这个问题的时候，你已经知道我是知道的。而且我也是因为站在濠水的堰堤上才知道的。”

……

庄子的妻子死了，惠子前来安慰他，可这时庄子正坐着，两腿交叉，一边猛敲一个毁坏的浴盆，一边唱歌。

惠子说：“你们作为夫妻一起生活，她养育了你的子女。她死了，你不哭也就罢了，却大声敲着浴盆唱歌，这怎么可以！”

庄子说：“当然不可以了。她刚去世时，我跟所有人一样，很是忧伤。可是，我随后想到了她的出生，她生命最初的情形，还想到她出生之前。实际上，不仅是她出生之前，还有她的形体被创造之前。不仅是她的形体被创造之前，还有她生命的气息最初开始之前。从这一切之中，通过奇妙的神秘变化她被赋予了生命的气息。她的生命气息发生转化，她便具有了形体。她的形体再发生转化，她便出生了。现在转化又要发生了，她便死去。她就如同一年四季一样，春夏秋冬交替更迭。她现在躺在坟墓中安息了，如果我还要呜咽哭泣，必然显得我不明白命运的道理。所以我才停止哭泣。”

……

庄子说：“一个弓箭手，都懒得瞄准，全然凭借运气射中了靶心。我们可以称他为好射手，可是如果那样的话，那么天下所有人都可以称作神射手羿了，这样可以吗？”

惠子说：“可以。”

庄子说：“对于什么事情在他们心中才是正确的，人们意见迥异，但是每个人都知道他认为正确的事情。因此世界上每个人都可以被称作尧，是这样的吗？”

惠子说：“可以。”

庄子说：“那么，有四个学派——儒家、墨家、杨朱和公孙龙——再算上先生你自己，一共五派。那么哪一派是正确的呢？或者更像是鲁遽那样呢？他的一个弟子曾说：‘我已经掌握了你的道，先生，我冬天可以为壶加热，夏天可以让水结冰。’鲁遽说：‘这只是用阳气于阳气，用阴气于阴气，不是我所说的道。让我来向你展示我的道。’他给两把琵琶调好音，一把放在大厅，一把放在内室。在一把琵琶上弹奏宫音，另一把琵琶上也会响起宫音。角音也是一样，因为乐器之间是协调一致的。然后他对其中一把琵琶进行了重新调音，使它与五个主音完全不合。当这把琵琶演奏时，另一琵琶琴弦的二十五个音响起，与这把琵琶琴弦的音完全一致且均跟随这把琵琶的音而起。那么，如果你坚持你是正确的，那不正是如此吗？”

惠子说：“孔子、墨子、杨朱和公孙龙的弟子想要跟我辩论，每个人都想击败其他人，每个人都想用各种辩论的声音猛烈地压倒我——但是他们都没能成功。这个你怎么看？”

庄子说：“齐国有人将儿子卖到宋国作看门人，从不担心儿子有任何差池。但也正是此人却竭尽全力去保护他的钟铃。但是他不会跨过他自己国家的边界去寻找他的儿子，这就是他所理解的有价值的事。或者，那个著名的人物，身体残废作看门人的楚国人，要是他半夜在另一个国家想要跟一个船夫打架会怎样呢？结果是他绝对过不了河，只能惹得船夫生气。”

……

惠子和庄子辩论，说：“你说的话没用！”

庄子说：“你只有明白了何为无用，才能讨论何为有用。天地是大，可是人类也只能使用他们行走于其上的那宇宙的一小部分。即便如此，若是你在自己脚下深挖不止，直到黄泉，谁又能从中受用呢？”

惠子说：“没用。”

庄子说：“因此，的确如此，没用的显然是有用的。”

庄子继续说：“如果有人渴望去旅行，什么才能阻止他呢？要是有人不愿去旅行，那么什么才能鼓动他呢？不论是在随波逐流中隐藏自己，还是远离人群以寻求遗忘，都不能通达得道。他们踉跄跌倒，却无法恢复从前。他们走向毁灭，如火焰一般，从不回头。即便他们是君主与群臣的关系，也会成为过去。这些头衔随时代变化，便无贵贱之分了。人都说完美之人行动从不留痕。

“尊古蔑今，学者皆如此。即便狶韦氏的弟子，就算他们以同样的方式看待当下，也会被不分好歹地清除。唯有完美之人能够处世而不偏颇，追随他人而不迷失自我。他不吸取他们的说教，他只是听了且懂了，不作任何承诺。

眼睛锐利才能看得清楚；

耳朵敏锐才能听得清楚；

鼻子灵敏才能辨别味道；

嘴巴敏锐才能享受美味；

内心感受深刻方有智慧；

智慧深入骨髓便是道德。

“万有之中，道不会被阻塞，因为若受阻，便透不过气；若透不过气，便产生混乱。混乱则毁灭万物的生命。凡活着的都要呼吸。可是，若无法呼吸，也不能怪天。天日夜不停地寻求气息在身体中运行：是人在妨碍气息运行。子宫要有它的空间，心要有属天的旅程。要是房间不够大，婆媳之间将起争执。要是心不能在天际遨游，感觉的六种开端会彼此竞争。大森林、丘陵和山脉在精神上都胜过人类，因为它们是不可战胜的。

“道德满溢，会造就名声；追求名声的欲望过度，就只是过度。有危机，才有谋划；有争论，才有知识。顽疾让人痛下决心，正式的行动产生于万物的欲望。春天到了，雨水会伴着阳光而来，草木蓬勃生长，人们又一次准备好收割的工具。曾经倒下的，又有一半开始发芽，没有人知道到底是为什么。

安静对于病人有疗效；

按摩对老人是有益的；

静静的沉思能让忧伤之人平静。

确实，只有不安之人需要这些。

不受困扰的自在之人却不需要。

圣人革新天下万物，可神人从不询问其方法。

贤人改善他的时代，可圣人从不询问其方法。

君主治理他的国家，可贤人从不询问其方法。

小人总是将就应付，可君主从不询问其方法。

“演门的看门人父亲过世，他因施加于自身的极度苦行而受到赞扬，被授予模范官员的称号。这个地方的其他一些人也采取了类似极端的行为，结果死了一半的人。尧要将国家让给许由，许由就逃跑了。汤要将他的王国让给务光，务光大发脾气。纪他听说此事，便和他的弟子隐退到窾水边，三年里当地的诸侯都来表示对他的同情。也因同样的原因，申徒狄纵身跳入黄河。渔网用于捕鱼，可是得了鱼之后渔网就被忘记了。兔网用来捕兔，可是捕得了兔子之后兔网就被忽略了。言词用来表达概念，可是一旦你掌握了概念就把言词遗忘了。我想找那忘记言词之人，这样我就可以和此人辩论了。”

……

庄子参加一个葬礼时路过惠子的坟墓。他环顾了一下跟随他的人们，说：“郢地有一个人将泥点弄在鼻尖上，那泥点如同苍蝇的翅膀一样小。他让人请来匠人石将其削去。石挥动斧子将其削去，斧子砍过去时造成一阵风，恰好将郢人鼻子上泥土的痕迹消除掉，郢人站着不动，心中毫不担心。宋元君听说此事便召匠人石来见他。

他说：‘你能行好给我演示一次吗？’

匠人石回答说：‘我确实曾成功过一次，不过可以让我施展的那个人早就已经死了。

‘自从先生去世以后，我就没有合适之人来施展了。我再也没有可以谈话的对象了。’”

第六部分　马　蹄

马有蹄，故四脚可以稳立于霜雪；马有毛，因此才能抵御风寒。它们吃草喝水，高跃飞奔，因为这是马的天性。即便给它们高塔大殿，它们也不会感兴趣的。可是，当伯乐问世后，就说：“我知道如何训练马。”他为它们做标记、剪毛、削蹄，在头上套上缰绳，给它们戴上笼头，使它们步履蹒跚，并将它们关在马厩里。如此，十匹马中至少有两到三匹会死掉。然后他让它们挨饿、口渴，让它们飞驰奔跑，教练它们步伐整齐。前怕嚼子和缰绳，后怕鞭子和鞭条；马因为这个已经死了一大半了。

陶工说：“我知道如何使用粘土，塑成圆形好似圆规，塑成方形就如同用了矩尺一样。”木工说：“我知道如何使用木材，要弯的，我就用模具；要直的，我就用准绳。”可是，粘土和木材的天性真的是要用圆规和矩尺、模具和准绳来塑造吗？但无论如何，一代又一代的人都说：“伯乐擅长控制马，陶工和木工擅长使用粘土和木材。”这倒是真的。而且那些治理世界的人们滔滔不绝地重复着同样的无稽之谈。

我认为真正懂得治理世界的人不是这样的。百姓有自然的天性，他们织布做衣服，耕作以生产食物。这是他们的基本道德。禀赋纯一，而不偏私，这叫作天然的放任。因而，在完美道德的时代，百姓行动稳重，眼神专注。这样的时代，山上没有道路也没有隧道，湖上没有船只也没有桥梁；万物同类而居，共处而生。鸟群和兽群不断增加，草木长高。在这样的时代，事实上鸟兽不用绳索便可让人带领着一起遨游，鸟巢也可让人自在地去观看。

在完美道德的时代，百姓与鸟兽共处，和万物共同分享这个世界。没有人会区分贵族和农民！完全无知但拥有永不消逝的道德；完全没有欲望，人们纯素朴实。纯素朴实，这就能保住人们的本性。可随后完美的圣人出现了，无休止地传布仁慈，努力施行公义，于是突然间所有人都开始疑惑了。他们开始过度关心音乐，对礼仪修修补补，因此整个世界都不安起来。如果纯正的本质没有如此被约束，他们怎么会最后反而要使用祭祀的碗呢？如果原始的玉石没有被碎开，怎么可能会被制成权利的标志呢？如果道和德——方式和道德——没有被忽视，仁慈和公义又怎么会被推崇呢？如果天性没有被遗忘，又怎么会发明礼仪和音乐呢？如果五色没有被混淆，又怎么会出现格式和设计呢？如果五音没有被混淆，它们怎么可能会被六律所取代呢？滥用真正的元素去制作人工制品是匠人的罪过。滥用道和德——方式和道德——来树立仁慈和公义，这是圣人的过错。

马在野外生存的时候，吃草喝水；高兴时，它们交颈摩擦。生气时，它们背对彼此互相踢踏。这就是马所知道的一切。如果套上马具被强制列队，它们学会了看向旁边、弯曲颈部、四处猛冲、努力吐出马嚼子、摆脱缰绳。马因此学到的知识和种种恶行事实上都是伯乐的过错啊。

第七部分　博学何用？

制作弓箭、十字弓、网罗等需要丰富的知识，可结果是鸟儿在困境中越飞越高。制作鱼线、圈套、鱼饵和鱼钩需要丰富的知识，可结果是鱼儿面对危险在水中四散而逃。制作陷阱、圈套和网罗需要丰富的知识，可结果是动物被惊扰，纷纷躲藏入沼泽地中。同样地，花言巧语、密谋策划、散播谣言、强词夺理、发起争论和表面妥协都需要众多才艺，可结果只能是人们变得困惑了。因此，天下万物之所以处于不安之中就是因为对于知识的追求。世上万物皆知如何寻求他们尚未掌握的知识，却不知如何寻找他们已经知道的。世上万物皆知非难他们所不喜欢的，却不知道非难他们所已经喜好的。这就是造成天下大乱的原因。这就像是：在上，日月的光明被遮蔽；在下，山川丧失了它们的力量；四时的天然运行遭到破坏。微小的昆虫，甚至是植物，无不丧失了它们的天性。这就是世界追求知识的后果。自三代至今，一直如此。善良诚实的人被忽视，懦弱奉承的人却受到推崇。无为而为的平静被弃绝，争吵辩论却备受追捧。正是这种无稽之谈让天下万物如此困惑起来。

……

人们太快乐了吗？若是事实，就会伤及阳气。人们复仇之心太重了吗？假若如此，就会伤及阴气。若阴阳二气都受损，四时更替会被打乱，寒暑平衡会被打破，终将危及人的身体！人们将不能在快乐和忧愁之间掌握平衡。这会让人们永不停息，东奔西跑，无目的地谋划，无理由或徒劳地旅行。结果是整个世界开始关注宏大的目的计划、野心和仇恨，随后就会产生盗跖、曾参和史䲡之徒。总之，虽然世界可能想要奖赏善人，却没有足够多的奖赏；世界也不能惩罚所有的恶人，因为没有足够多的惩罚。

……

因此，君子若发现治理世界必须按照某种方法，便会意识到无为而为就是最好的方法。做到无为，他便可以安身于自然和天命的真实本质之中。如果他像珍重自己的身体一样治理世界，那么世界便可由他来治理。如果他像爱自己的身体一样爱世界，便可将世界交付给他。如果君子能够使其五官免遭毁坏，当然还有他的视野和听觉；如果他可以像死尸一般静处，而开发他的龙之力量；如果他能如此保持平静，他的话语将如雷鸣，他的行动将被视为天之灵在行动，是受天的指引。如果他从容自在、无为而为，他那温和的灵魂会将万物引向他，如尘云一般。如此之人怎么还会有时间来治理世界呢？

……

云将乘着旋风之翼，到东方游历。突然他碰到鸿蒙，鸿蒙正跳来跳去，拍着大腿像鸟儿一样跳跃。云将看到此景，停了下来。静静地站着，心怀敬意，他问：“老人家，您是何人？在做什么呢？”

鸿蒙继续拍着大腿像鸟儿一样跳跃，答道：“正玩得高兴呢！”

云将说：“我想请教一个问题。”

鸿蒙看着云将说：“不知羞耻！”

云将说：“天的气息不再和谐，地的气息也落入圈套，六气不再混合，四时不再更替。现在我想聚合六气而赋予万物生气。我该怎么办呢？”

鸿蒙拍着大腿，四处跳跃，说道：“我不知道，我不知道！”

这个问题云将无法继续问了。可是三年后，东游时，他路过宋国的郊野，再次碰到了鸿蒙。云将非常高兴，快步走向前去，站在他面前说：“天哪，您还记得我吗？天哪，您还记得我吗？”他两次叩首，请求鸿蒙为他指点。

鸿蒙说：“四处遨游，却不知道为什么。鲁莽冲动，却不知道到哪里去。我就是这样古怪地四处遨游，我明白万物产生皆有因。我又知道些什么呢？”

云将说：“我也是鲁莽冲动的，可是我到哪儿人们就跟到哪儿。现在，因为他们都跟随我，我就想得到您的指教。”

鸿蒙说：“破坏天道扰乱了万物的真正存在，妨碍了天之奥秘的圆满。这导致了动物四散，鸟儿整夜鸣唱，庄稼和树木遭殃，连昆虫都受灾毁灭了。唉，所有这些都是由于人们错误地认为他们懂得治理之道而引起的呀！”

云将说：“那我该做什么呢？”

鸿蒙说：“哦，就让他们痛苦吧！就像鬼魂，我要像鬼魂一样跳着舞离开了。”

云将说：“我很难见您一面，哦，天哪，就再给我些指点吧。”

鸿蒙说：“咳！要强大你的心。确保无为而为，万物自然就会化生。丢下你的躯体，放弃你的视力和听力，忘记你是谁，与那浩瀚和虚无合而为一。放松内心，解放心灵，如同没有灵魂一般平静。所有生灵会返回它们的本元，不知所以地返回它们的本元。一直处于黑暗之中，一直处于黑暗之中，在它们整个存在期间，永远不能摆脱。如果你努力去理解，它们就会摆脱。不要问其名，不要寻其形。如此万物自然而生。”

云将答道：“天哪，您以此品德让我受宠，以此神秘让我受教；我一生所求，现在终于得到了。”他两次叩首后起身，告辞而去了。

第八部分　无为之为是谓天

是故圣人冥思于天却并不辅助天。

关心如何完善道德又不为其拖累。

他们依道而行而不谋划。

他们行仁慈却不依赖它。

他们广施公义却不欲加积累。

他们遵守礼仪却不借此厚积。

他们为不得不为之事，并且绝对不会逃避责任。

他们尽力适用他们的法律但并不认为它们有效。

他们重视百姓，不会随便使用他们。

他们利用万物，不会轻易拒绝它们。

没错，万物虽无用但必须加以利用。

谁不明白天，谁就无法在道德上保持纯粹。

谁不理解道，谁就不能理解任何其他方法。

那些不明道的人，可悲啊！

可是这里的道又是什么呢？

有天之道；

有人之道。

无为而让人尊敬：是天之道。

反过来积极有为：是人之道。

天之道才是君主；

人之道只是仆人。

二者间相差犹如两极。

不能不对此深思熟虑。

……

天与地虽然都广阔无垠，

其多样性却只源于一处。

尽管生命形式成千上万，

它们的秩序却是一致的。

我们人类虽然数量众多，

却只受一个君主的统治。

他根于道德，完美于天。

人们说在很久很久以前，

天下万物的君主统治靠：

无为、天道，别无他物。

……

通过无为而有所作为是谓天。

有关于无为的言论是谓道德。

爱众人并助其成功是谓仁慈。

联合那尚未联合的是谓伟大。

超越各种障碍边界是谓宽容。

拥有大量丰富之物是谓富有。

拥有并能坚守道德是谓纲领。

成长直至道德成熟是谓坚定。

与道始终保持一致是谓完满。

拒绝让外物困扰你是谓完美。

君子如果清楚地明白这十个道理，他的事业也将是高尚的，他的行为终将造福万物。

这样的人会让金子留在山中，

还会让珍珠继续待在深渊里。

他不视金钱物品为真正的利，

也不会为名望和财富所诱惑，

不会以长寿为乐，夭亡为悲；

他不重视财富，以财富为福，

也不会因为贫穷而感到羞耻。

他不求将天下财富占为己有，

也不愿统治世界而据为私有。

他的荣耀在于明了万物一体，

死亡和出生也是相互统一的。

圣者大师说：

“道，多么深奥，多么安静；

多么明白，又多么纯净啊！

没有它，金石都无法共鸣。

虽然金石自身都可以发声，

但如果不敲击，就没有声。

万物皆有无法计量的维度。”

……

谆芒说：“什么是圣人治理之道？只委任那些与职位相适宜的人；只根据被任命之人的价值来任命；只在充分了解情形之后再采取行动。如果行为和言语相一致，整个世界都被改变。结果是，只要手一挥或者一个眼神，全世界的百姓都会奔向你。这就是圣人治理之道。”

“我能请教什么是有德之人吗？”

“有德之人安静无思：

行动之时没有谋划；

不测算是非与善恶。

有德之人与四海内

所有人分享其所得，

并能从中获得乐趣。

他们分享所拥有的，

并且因此感到满足。

悲伤时，他们就像

是失去母亲的孩子。

疑惑时，他们就像

是迷了路的旅行者。

虽大量财富与安逸

被降福到他们身上，

他不知其从何而来；

虽吃喝充足而有余，

他不知其从何而来。

此有德之人的风格。”

“那么神人又当如何？”

谆芒说：

“灵魂上升至最强之光

而他们的身体消失了。

他们荣耀般欣喜若狂。

他们活出自己的命运，

始终追求真正的自己，

处在天地的快乐之中，

而种种忧虑都消逝了。

万物复归其真正天性。

这被人称为最初奥秘。”

……

运行时毫不积聚，这就是天之道，

因此一切生命形式都能实现完美。

运行时毫不积聚，也是帝王之道，

所以全世界都将臣服于他的脚下。

运行时毫不积聚，还是圣人之道，

因此四海之内的一切都尊敬他们。

明了天，理解圣人，遨游于宇宙，

遵守帝王君主道德的同时做自己：

这就是那些能够了悟的人的天性，

看似毫无所知却是处于静止而已。

圣人是不活动的，不是因为不活动有什么价值，他们只是静止不动而已。即便众人也不能使他烦恼，因此他们是平静的。水面静止时，能够将你的眉毛胡须都映照出来。水面完全水平，都可以作为木匠的水平仪。如果静止的水面能够如此清明，想象一下纯净的灵魂可以提供什么吧！圣人的心是静止的！天地可以映在其中，好比万物之镜。虚空、静止、平静、朴素、寂静、安静、无为，这是天地道德的核心。帝王、君主和圣人皆止息于此。止息，他们才虚空；虚空，他们才能充实；充实才能圆满。虚空才有清定；在清定中他们可以旅行；在旅行中他们到达。静定，就能够无为；无为，任事者就各有专责了。通过无为之为，他们高兴，很是高兴；高兴到不受任何担心忧虑的影响，完全没有它们的一席之地，因此他们的寿命持续很久。虚空、静止、平静、朴素、寂静、安静，无为之为是万物的根本。如果你明白此理而去南面临朝，便是尧一般的君上；如果你明白此理而去北面朝君，便是舜一般的臣下。

……

庄子说：

我的老师啊！我的老师啊！

他评判万物却不感觉到自己爱批评；

他的慷慨及于万世却不以此为仁慈；

他比最古老的还长寿却不自视年长；

他覆天载地创造众生却不自认灵巧。

这就是所谓属天的幸福。

“有一种说法：‘如果你知道天的幸福，那么你就明白生命自天来，死亡只是万物的变化。静止时，他们是阴，而运行时，他们是阳。’知晓属天的幸福意味着你不得扰乱天，也不得与他人作对。你不为外物所累，也不受鬼神责谴。还有一种说法：‘他随天而动，与地同憩，他的心为一，他是全世界的王；鬼神不能使他担忧，他的灵魂不知疲乏，他的心与所有生灵为一。’意思是说他的虚空和静止进入到天地万物之中，与万物一同运行。这就是属天的幸福。属天的幸福是圣人的心；这就是他们照看天下万物的方法。”

帝王君主之德以天地为父母，以道德为师，以无为作为核心。通过无为之为，他们能让全世界随其所愿而不知疲倦。通过作为，他们甚至无法开始满足世界的需要。因此古人重视无为之为。

……

因此，世上古代的君主虽对天地了如指掌，却从不谋划；即便他们了解生命的全部，他们也从不说出来；尽管他们的能力比四海所环绕的土地上任何一个人都大，他们却什么都不做。

天什么都不生产，

可万物都在变化；

地什么都不维持，

可万物都被供养；

帝王和君主无为，

却能治理全世界。

有一种说法就说：

没有比天更崇高，

没有比地更富足，

没有比帝王更加伟大的了。

……

因此，是古人清晰地掌握了伟大的道，率先追寻天的意义，然后又寻求它的道和德的意义。

当他们清楚明了道和德时，

他们就懂得了仁慈和公义。

当他们清楚掌握仁与义时，

他们能明白如何履行义务。

当他们知道如何尽义务时，

他们就懂得了形式与名声。

当他们理解形式与名声时，

他们就有能力任命职位了。

当他们有能力进行任命时，

他们进而监督人们的工作。

当他们监督人们的工作时，

他就要对善与恶进行评判。

当他们做出了善恶评判时，

他们就要进行惩罚和奖励。

……

从前，舜对尧说：“作为天子，你如何用心？”

尧说：“我不会怠慢那毫无抵抗之人，也不会忽视那贫穷之人。我为那死者哀伤，并照看孤儿寡母。这就是我的用心之道。”

舜评论说：“好倒是好，但还不够开朗。”

尧说：“那我该怎么做呢？”

“天德发现之时，山峦为之高兴，日月为之闪耀，四季交替运行。日夜交替的常规模式随即产生，雨云也应时而动。”

尧说：“那么我一直以来所做的一切只是徒增烦扰啊！你寻求顺从于天，而我却一直寻求符合于人。”

……

孔子向西而行，打算将其图书藏于周的档案室里。子路建议道：“我听说掌管皇家档案室的官员是老子。但是他已经辞职回家了。先生，如果你想把你的书放在那里，就去见见他，请求他帮帮忙。”

孔子说：“好。”于是他就去见老子，但是老子拒绝帮忙。于是他就拿出他的十二经，开始说教。

当他说到一半时，老子说：“说得也太多了。简要一点。”

孔子说：“从根本上说，就是仁义。”

老子说：“我可否问你，仁义不正是人的本性吗？”

孔子说：“当然。如果君子没有仁，他就没有目的；如果没有义，他就没有生命。仁义，的确是人的天性。不然还能是什么呢？”

“我可否问你，什么是仁义？”

孔子答道：“万物一体，内心平和，兼爱万物，毫无私心，这就是仁义。”

老子说：“其实，你所说的本身就让人误解。‘兼爱万物’，这么说既含糊不清又夸大其词！‘毫无私心’，这难道不是已经有私心了吗？先生，如果你想让百姓保持淳朴，你难道不应当依靠天地之道吗？

天与地各自都有其永恒不变的区域；

太阳和月亮在它们的轨道上发着光；

星辰在其秩序允许的范围之内运行；

鸟与动物在鸟群和兽群中找到归属。

想想那井然有序各自站立的树木吧！

“因此，先生，遵循德行走，按照道前行，你就会抵达完美的终点。又何必靠着所有这些仁义，一路昂首阔步，就像敲着鼓去寻找一个丢失的孩子？先生，你只是扰乱了人们的天性而已！”

……

老子说：

“道不会在大事物前踌躇，

也不会丢弃那小的事物。

故万物因道而焕发生气。

它那样巨大，那样浩瀚，

没有什么是它不包容的；

它那么高深，那么叵测，

超出了可以思考的边界。

道德形式寓于仁义之中，

尽管只是其精神的一瞥。

除了完美之人谁能理解？

完美之人掌控他的时代，

有点令人畏惧的任务啊！

但这不会愚弄或困住他。

他拥有掌控世界的权力，

但这对他来说无足轻重。

他所有的谬误皆可洞悉，

却从来不计算个人得失。

他直达问题的核心并且

懂得如何保护真理之本。

因此，天地皆在他之外，

他遗忘万物，精神抖擞。

他与道同行，与德相合，

与仁义告别，遗忘礼乐，

因为完美之人早将自己

的心安放在了真理之上。”

这一代人认为在书本中能发现道的价值。但是书本只是语言，语言有了意义才有价值。意义就是不停地寻求表达语言无法传达的意义。这一代人看重语言并将其载入书中，但是他们所看重的可能只是误解，因为他们所看重的不一定全都是那么有价值的。所以，我们用眼看事物，看到了，但也只是外在的形式和颜色，我们所听的也只是名称和声音。这一代人还想象着形式、颜色、名称和声音就足以认识事物的根本，多么可悲啊！形式、颜色、名称和声音绝不足以把握或揭示真理，这就是为什么说知者不言、言者不知。可是，这一代人如何才能明白这个道理呢？

第九部分　天在动吗？

天在动吗？地静止不动吗？

日月会争执该去往何处吗？

谁又是所有这一切的主宰？

是谁在约束和控制着它呢？

谁会无所事事造就这一切？

是否存在某个隐藏的原因

让万物如此，不管其意愿？

或者是不是只是别无选择

万物才不得不运动和改变？

云为雨生还是雨使云聚呢？

是什么使它们存在？是谁

无为却能造就这快乐满溢？

风从北面吹来，西奔东跑，

旋转而上，不知去向何方？

它们是谁的气息呢？是谁

无为却能创造这一切活动？

……

桓公正坐在堂上读书，车匠扁在堂下制作车轮。他放下自己的凿子和锤子，来到堂上问桓公：“我可否问您，先生，您读的是什么言论呢？”

桓公答道：“圣人之言。”

“这些圣人都还活着吗？”

桓公说：“他们都死了很久了。”

“那么，先生，您读的不过是这些古人留下的糟粕罢了！”

桓公怒斥：“你一个车匠，怎敢对我读的书评头论足！要是你能说出理由便罢，要不然你就得死！”

车匠扁就回答说：“陛下，小人我是从自己工作的角度来看的。当我做轮子的时候，如果我用力过于柔和，尽管这样会很舒适，但是不会做出好轮子。如果我用力过猛，我就会疲倦，做出来的也不会成功！所以，不能太柔和，也不能太用力，我在手上把握，在心里把持。我嘴里说不出来，但我就是知道。这个我无法教给我儿子，我儿子也不能从我这里学会。因此，七十年来我一直沿着这条路前行，现在我还在做轮子。古人死时便跟他想说的话一同离开了。这就是我为什么说陛下您在读的仅仅是这些古人留下的糟粕而已！”

……

孔子虚度了五十一年，从未听任何人说起过道，直到他南下来到沛地，前去拜见了老子。

老子说：“你来了啊，先生？我听说过你，说你是北方的智者。先生，你理解了道了吗？”

孔子答道：“我还没有理解呢。”

“好吧，先生，你于何处求道的呢？”

“我是在那可以被衡量和规定的内容之中寻求的，可是虽然花了五年时间，我还是没能够找到。”

“那么，先生，你接下来怎么做的呢？”

“我又于阴阳之中寻找，但是十年、十二年过去了，我仍然不能有所发现。”

老子说：“当然了！如果道可以被进献的话，人人都会向其君上进献了。如果道可以被进奉的话，没有不向其父母进奉的。如果道可以被言说，没有人会不告知其兄弟姐妹。如果道可以被传递，没有人会不传给他的后人。可是，道显然不是这样的，理由就是：

如果心中没有一个真正的中心

来接受它，那么道不可能停留；

如果心外没有一个真正的方向

来引导它，那么道不可能传达。

如果心中那真正的中心不能够

向外发散，就无法在外有所得。

可即便圣人也无法将它引出来。

如果那从外面进入内心的事物

在真正的中心不被欢迎，那么

就算圣人也不能就放手不管了。”

……

孔子去拜见老子，跟他谈论仁义。老子说：“如果你簸扬糠皮时眼睛里进去了沙砾，天地和四方都要变得混乱了。蚊虻叮咬会让你整晚无法入睡。仁义呢，如果强加给我们，会扰乱我们的内心，造成极大的不安。先生，你如果想让天下万物免于丧失其最初的质朴，你必须随风而行，坚定地立于道德之上。你为何如此用力，如同敲着大鼓去寻找丢失的孩子？那雪白色的鹅无需天天洗澡去保持洁白，那乌鸦也不必天天染色来保持乌黑。黑与白源自天然的质朴，而不是靠争辩。名声和财富，即便得到了，也不能让人们更伟大。当水域干涸时，鱼儿搁浅在陆地上，它们挤在一起，尽量通过吐沫打湿彼此来保持湿润。但是，如果它们能安全地待在江湖之中而忘记彼此，这样岂不是更好吗？”

拜见完老子后，孔子回到家中，整整三天一句话不说。他的弟子问他：“先生，您见过老子了，请问您如何看待他呢？”

孔子说：“我终于见到了龙！龙盘绕以现形，伸展以展示力量。它驾着云气，在阴阳之中滋养。我只有张大了嘴不能合拢。关于老子我又能说什么呢？”

……

古人虽然谈论得志，但他们并不是指官家马车和职位徽章。他们仅仅是指幸福是如此完满，无需增加任何东西。今天所谓得志是指拥有官家马车和职位徽章。马车和徽章作用于身体，它们不能碰触到内在的天性。这样的好事可能会不时地出现。当它们发生时，你无力阻拦，就像你也不能制止它们会再次离开一样。所以，拥有马车和徽章，我们也没有理由骄傲自大，同样，痛苦和穷困也不是我们沦于世俗的理由。将这两种情形看作是一样的，那么你就能够免于焦虑、顺其自然了。因此，如果那给你带来幸福的事物在消逝时给你带来烦恼，现在你就能明白这样的幸福是毫无价值的。所以说，那些在物质的欲望中迷失自己的人也会因为世俗而丧失内在的天性。他们被称为本末倒置之人。

第十部分　真实与幸福

秋日洪水的时节到了，一百条河流涌入黄河。河水翻腾，水面如此宽阔，从河岸望向对面，连牛马都不能分辨得出。此时，黄河之神毫无疑问很高兴，认为世界上最美的东西是属于他的。他顺流而下，向东而行，最终到达了北海。在这里他朝东望去，水域一眼望不到边。他这个黄河之神只得摇摇头，向外望去时刚好看到海神若，于是边叹气边说：

“俗话说：‘一个人自以为听了一百次道后，其他人就都比不上他了。’这说的就是我呀。我听说过人们嘲笑儒家的学识，轻视伯夷的公义，但是我不相信。现在我见识到了你无穷的广阔。要是我没有来到你的门前，我可能就危险了，会被那些懂得伟大方法之人嘲笑的。”

北海的若答道：“井底之蛙不能谈论大海，因为它被井的空间所限制。夏日的昆虫不能谈论冰，因为它只知道自己所属的季节。视野狭窄的学者不能谈论道，因为他被他的学说所限制。现在你已经走出了你的河岸并看到了大海。你现在知道自己的浅陋了，所以现在和你谈论大的道理也是可能的了。天下没有比海更广阔的水域了。千万条河流注入它，到目前所知从未终止过，可是它绝不会满溢。它向尾闾的里面注泄，但是海从未干涸。春天和秋天不会有任何变化。它从不关注洪水或干旱。它比长江和黄河的水加起来还多得多，根本无法估量。可是我从未因此而自以为了不起。我只是把自己跟天地相比较，我生命的气息自阴阳之中获得。与天地相比，我仅仅是大山上的小块石头或一棵小树。当我看到了我自己的浅陋，怎么可能还会骄傲呢？

“四海所充满的空间与天地之间的广阔比起来，不是像沼泽旁边的一堆石头吗？将中国与四海之内的大陆相比，不是像谷仓之中的一粒粮食吗？说到所有生灵，我们可以数出成千上万种，人类只不过是其中之一。人们居于九州之内，不论舟船可以通到哪里，人类也只是谷物所供养的所有生灵中的一部分。人类与众多生命形式相比，不就像马身上的一根毛吗？”

……

黄河之神说：“这个时代的议论者说：‘最精微的东西没有形体，最广大的东西无法限定。’这些话是真的吗？”

北海的若答道：“从最精微者的角度来看，我们看到那浩瀚广大的，不能够理解它。从最广大者的角度来看，我们要看那最精微的，就不可能看清楚。最精微的是那小的之中最小的，最广大的是那大的之中最大的；我们必须加以区分，即便这只能视情况而定。不过，那粗糙的和那精微的都有形体。没有形体，就不可能去计算它们。可以言说的是事物粗糙的一面，能够用意念捕捉的是事物精微的一面。但是那言语无法描述、意念也无法捕捉的，就与粗糙和精微毫不相关了。

“因此，伟大的人，在他的行动之中，不会去伤害别人，也不会宣扬仁义；他不会为了利益而行动，也不看轻门前的仆人；他不会争夺财产和财富，也不会过多表示礼让；他不请求别人的帮助，不夸耀他的自力更生，也不鄙视贪婪和吝啬之人；他不随波逐流，也不标榜特立独行；他追随众人，但不看重那靠谄媚获得成功的人。世间的头衔和荣耀，他不感兴趣，他也不在乎惩罚的羞辱。他知道，是与非、伟大与渺小都没有分别。我听有人说：‘得道之人没有名声，完美之德没有所得，伟大之人忘记自我。’多么完美，这就是他所遵循的道路。”

黄河之神问道：“不论是内在的还是外在的，我们怎么就有贵贱这样的区分？我们为什么要区分渺小和伟大？”

北海的若说：“从道的角度来看，事物既不高尚也不低劣。从事物的角度来看，万物皆视自己为高尚而视他物为低劣。从日常观念的角度来看，高尚和低劣都不是从个体事物的角度被理解的。考虑到不同的观点，某物如果因为它大的方面而被视为大，就意味着：众多事物中没有一个不能被视为是大的。同样，如果某物因为它小的方面就被视为小，那么万物都能被视为小。若我们知道天地就像一粒米那样小，或者发尖如同山脉绵延那样广大，那我们就明白了我们对大小的理解是相对的。从每个事物的功用角度来看，我们将某物视为有用是因为它有用，就意味着，在所有的为数众多的事物之中，每个事物都可以被视为是有用的。同样的，如果某物被视为无用只是因为它看似无用，那么万物均可被视为无用。如果我们知道东和西是相反的方向，而且还彼此需要，那么我们就能明白相互交流和相互作用是如何起作用的了。从选择的角度来看，如果某物被看作是好的是因为它毫无疑问是好的，那么在所有的为数众多的生命之中，没有什么是不好的。同样，如果某物被视为是错的是因为它毫无疑问是错的，那么没有哪个生命形式不能被视为是错的。”

……

“安静，安静，黄河之神！你如何能知道通往高贵或者卑贱的途径抑或伟大或渺小所在之处？”

黄河之神说：“好吧。那我能做什么，不能做什么呢？我怎么才能判断什么该保留、什么该拒绝或者什么该向往、什么该离弃呢？”

北海的若说：“从道的角度来看，何谓高贵、何谓卑贱，都只是永不停歇的变化。不要执著于你的想法，因为这是跟道的伟大相背离的。什么是少、什么是多，这些说法的用处是有限的。不要试图只是成为哪一个，这只能是凸显你偏离道有多远。要像毫不偏私的一国君主那样严肃端正。要高尚，像当地社神一样，人们供奉他，他赐福毫不偏私。要像天空一样开放，四方光亮而没有边界。你若慈爱照料万物，又怎么能偏爱哪个呢？这称之为不偏不倚。若视万物为一体，你又怎么能论及长短呢？道无始无终，但所有生灵皆有出生和死亡，所以你不能确信什么。这一刻它们是空的，下一刻就满了。它们是不能依靠的。时光不能倒流，也不能停止。衰退、成熟、充实和空虚，当它们结束后，又会重新开始。所以，我们可以谈论伟大的义，讨论万物的根本原则。生命力急速向前飞驰，不停地加速，每一刻都在改变，每一分都在变迁。至于说，我们应该做什么和不应该做什么？只有紧跟这变化的过程。”

黄河之神说：“如果是这样，那么道又有什么重要的呢？”

北海的若答道：“理解道就理解了原理。如果你理解了原理，当事情发生时你就知道该如何处理。知道了这个，你就能保证不会发生伤害自己的事了。如果有人具备完美之德，火不能伤害他，水也无法溺死他，寒冷酷热都不能影响他，鸟兽也不能伤害他。既然我说他避开了所有这些事情，只是说他能够分辨哪里是安全的、哪里是危险的。他自在应对祸与福，妥善处理要接近或避开什么，因此没有东西能伤害他。所以说，天是内在的，人是外在的，而德来自属天的。了解了天和人的行动，将自己根植于天之中，依德行事。然后你就能弯曲、伸展、前冲或后退，因为你总能回归根本，人们会说你已经达到至高了。”

“那你说什么是属天的？什么又是属人的呢？”

北海的若说：“牛有四脚：这就是我所说的属天的。如果马被戴上笼头，牛鼻被穿孔，我称此为人道。所以说，‘不要让那属人的取代那属天的。’不要让你的意图抵消天命。要小心，保护好它，不要丧失了，这就是我所谓的回归本真。”

一条腿的动物嫉妒千足虫；千足虫嫉妒蛇；蛇嫉妒风；风嫉妒眼睛；而眼睛嫉妒心。

一条腿的动物对千足虫说：“我有一只脚，虽然可以跳跃但几乎哪也去不了。可是先生你却有这么多的脚。你是如何做到的呢？”

千足虫说：“那可不一定。你难道没见过有人吐痰吗？吐出来一大团，紧跟着一堆唾沫星子，像小雨一样落下来，数都数不清。现在我只是发动那属天的机能，至于其他的——我没啥头绪！”

千足虫对蛇说：“我用所有这些脚随处走动，可是我却不能追上你，而先生你却一只脚都没有。为什么会这样？”

蛇说：“我是按照天的设计移动的，这我怎么控制得了呢？我能用脚来干什么呢！”

蛇对风说：“通过活动脊椎和肋骨，我才能前行，可至少我还有些可见的形体。可是先生你呢，从北海飞驰而来，向南海消逝而去，没有任何可见的形体。怎么会这样？”

风说：“没错，我从北海飞驰而来，向南海消逝而去。可是，事实上，若你用手指挥我，你就比我厉害，或者你用脚践踏我，你也能赢我。不过，我能刮倒大树，刮塌大屋，倒也是事实；而且只有我能做到。因此，谁若能战胜所有小问题实际上就是大胜者。做到大胜的，只有圣人才能够啊。”

……

公孙龙问魏牟：“我年轻的时候，学习先王之道，并且随着我不断成长，我清楚地明白仁义的重要性。我将同异合而为一，区分坚硬和白色、确定和不确定、可能和不可能。我努力理解百家哲学，驳倒他们的学说。我以为我已经明白了一切。可是，现在我听了庄子的言论，令我感到惊讶的是这些话让我感到不安起来。是我的知识不如他吗？或者是我的智慧不及他？我发现我都不能张口了，所以我想请教我该做什么。”

公子牟向前微倾，深深地叹了口气，然后仰天而望，笑着说：“先生啊，你难道没听说过破败老井中青蛙的故事吗？它对东海的乌龟说：‘我好高兴啊！我可以跳到井的壁沿之上，或者一路踏着破砖块跳入井中。当我跳入水中，我漂浮着，水托着我的下巴、两腿；在泥上，我可以把双脚深深地插入其中。我看着周围那些幼虫、螃蟹和蝌蚪，没有一个能比得上我的。能够完全控制一洼水，一点都不想动，只是享受这口老井，这太棒了！先生，你为什么不找个时间下来看看我呢？’

“东海的乌龟尝试了一下，但是它还没把左脚放入井中，它的右膝就被卡住了。这时候它停下来，曳脚后退出来，然后开始谈论大海：‘一千公里这样的距离不足以描述大海的长度，一千里格深也不足以表达其深度。在禹的时代，十年中有九年闹洪水，可是这也没能让海水升高一寸。在汤的时代，八年之中有七年闹旱灾，可是这也没能让海水降低一寸。没有什么能改变这些水域，不论从长远来看还是从短期来看；它们不会减退也不会升高，不会变大也不会变小。这就是东海的大快乐。’破败老井里的青蛙听了之后，非常惊奇；它彻底震惊，目瞪口呆，怅然若失。

“如果一个人的理解力尚不能应对这样的知识和是非之争，他若坚持想看清楚庄子的言论，就如同那想要背起一座大山的蚊子或者那想跑得跟黄河水一样快的虫子，明显是不可能的。如果一个人的理解力尚不能应对这样的知识和如此微妙的言论，他所能做的也只能是获得一些短期的回报。他就像那破败老井里的青蛙，难道不是吗？但是庄子没有扎根在地下黄泉，也没有跳跃登上苍天。没有南、北之分：他自在分散于四方，消失于深处。没有东、西之分：从最黑暗的深处出发，他重返伟大的道路之上。那么，先生你感到震惊，就想要精选他的一些观点加以批判或者通盘查阅以便进行辩论。何苦呢，这就像是通过一根很细的管子来观察天或者用一只猫头鹰来探索整个大地。这样的工具太小了，不是吗？先生，你还是走吧！或者，可能的话，你难道没听说过寿陵的少年以及他们在邯郸发生的故事吗？没有学会那个国家的人们想要教给他们的东西，他们把在家里学到的东西也忘了，最后只得爬着回家了。因此，先生，如果你现在还不离开，就会忘记你早已知道的东西，在事业上就只有失败了！”

公孙龙张大了嘴，不能合拢，舌头顶在上颚动不了，根本放不下来，然后他就退出去，逃走了。

庄子有一天在濮河上钓鱼，楚王派了两个高级官员来拜访他，并带来了一条口信。口信说：“我想烦请你来治理我的国家。”

庄子一直紧握着鱼竿，说：“我听说楚国有一个神龟，已经死了三千年了。国王将其包裹密封起来，藏在了他的祖庙里。你说，这只龟是情愿死了龟壳被人们供奉起来呢？还是宁愿活着继续在泥中爬行呢？”

两位高官说：“它宁愿活着继续在泥中爬行。”

庄子说：“那么，回去吧！我愿意继续在泥中爬行！”

……

庄子和惠子一同在濠水的堰堤上散步，庄子就说：“你看到鱼儿是怎样跃出水面、随心所欲地游来游去了吗？这就是鱼真正的快乐。”

惠子说：“你又不是鱼，你如何知道鱼喜欢什么？”

庄子说：“你又不是我，你怎么知道我不知道鱼喜欢什么。”

惠子说：“我不是你，所以我肯定不知道你到底知道什么。不过，很显然你也不是鱼，你必然也不知道鱼真正喜欢什么。”

庄子说：“哎，如果你不介意，还是让我们回到你最开始的问题吧。你问我如何知道鱼真正的快乐到底是什么。因此，你问这个问题的时候，你已经知道我是知道的。而且我也是因为站在濠水的堰堤上才知道的。”

……

在这广阔的全世界，有没有可能在某处能拥有完美的幸福？有没有一种方法能够让自己保持活力？现在，能做什么，又能相信什么呢？应该避免什么，又应该坚持什么呢？应该追求什么，又应该放弃什么呢？幸福在哪里，罪恶又在哪里呢？

在这广阔的全世界，人们看重的是财富、职位、长寿和名声。

能够带来幸福的是美好时光、精美食物、华美服饰、漂亮景色和美妙音乐。

那受人鄙视的是贫穷、吝啬、夭亡和污名。

那被认作痛苦的是生活方式不能让自己得到休息、嘴巴从未品尝过美食、身上没有华美服饰、眼睛看不到美好景色、耳朵听不到美妙音乐。

那些富人疲于奔命地工作，获得的财富越来越多，超出了他们所需要的。故而身体只是被视作外物。

那些位高权重的人没日没夜地谋划思索下一步的行动。漫不经心地对待自己的身体。在生活之中不断地被焦虑所困扰。如果他们能活得长寿，到最后老态龙钟，忧心忡忡，精疲力竭：多么悲惨的命运啊！身体受到了残酷的对待。天下所有人都将勇敢的人视作值得尊敬的，可是这并不能使他们免于死亡。这是否是明智的，我怀疑我是不是知道。可能是吧，但这丝毫不能拯救他们。也可能不是，但这却能拯救别人。人们说：“如果一个朋友不听你给他提的意见，那就放弃，不要争辩。”毕竟，子胥因争辩而丢了性命。他如果没有争辩的话，也就不会出名。可能真有善吗，或者根本不可能？

现在，当普通百姓意欲寻找幸福时，我不确定他们找到的幸福到底是不是幸福。我研究了普通百姓为了寻找幸福而做的事情和他们所奋力追求的东西，他们四处奔波，显然无法自拔。他们说他们幸福，而我并不幸福，但也没有不幸福。终究，他们拥有幸福了吗？我认为无为而为值得被称作幸福，尽管普通百姓视之为大的负担。所以说：“完美幸福不是幸福，完美荣耀不是荣耀。”

全世界的人都不能评判孰是孰非。但可以肯定的是无为而为能判定是非。完美幸福是保持活力，而只有无为而为能有这个效果。因此我要说：

天凭其纯净无为而为，

地靠其平静无为而为。

因此，天地将其无为之为相结合，万物都发生改变，因此重新焕发生命！比奇妙还奇妙的是，它们凭空产生！所有生命都是神奇的，都产生于无为之为。有一种说法，就是天地无为而为，却没有什么是未完成的。人们之中，有谁能理解这样的无为而为呢？

……

支离叔和滑介叔在冥伯山一带和昆仑地区游览，黄帝也曾在这里停留。突然滑介叔的左肘上毫无征兆地快速长出了如柳条般的东西。他自然无比惊讶，而且还有点恼怒。

支离叔说：“先生，你厌恶它吗？”

滑介叔说：“没有，我又该厌恶什么呢？生命通过乞讨索取而存在；若生命靠乞讨索取而生，那么生命就像是一个垃圾场。死亡和出生就像早晨和夜晚。先生，让你我来观察这转变的方式吧，现在我就在转变。所以，我怎么能够厌恶呢？”

庄子去楚地看一个古代的干枯头骨，他用马鞭戳了戳，说：“先生，你是因为走上一条不幸的道路，让你的父母和家庭蒙羞，结果才变成这样的吗？先生，或许是寒冷和饥饿让你变成这样子的？先生，又或许只是春秋的不断交替使你变成这样的？”

如此说着，他便把头骨拉过来当枕头，躺下睡着了。夜半时分，他在梦中看到那个头骨，对他说：“先生，你说话喋喋不休，就像一个公众演说家。你说的每一个字都表明先生你是一个为生活所困之人。可生活与我们死人毫不相干了。你想听听一些关于死的言论吗，先生？”

庄子说：“当然。”

头骨告诉他说：“死人，在上没有君主，在下没有侍从。没有什么工作与四时相关，所以我们存在着，我们的春秋如同天地一样，永无止境。毫无疑问，这是南面称王的快乐都不能比的。”

庄子不相信，说：“如果我叫司命官让先生你起死回生，有身体，有血肉，还有同伴，这样你会不喜欢吗？”

头骨皱起眉头，面带忧容，说：“我为什么要放弃连做君王的快乐都比不过的幸福，重新变回负担累累的人类呢？”

……

孔子说：“你以前没听说过这个故事吗？很久以前，一只海鸟降落在鲁国的都城。鲁侯列队将它带至太庙，在那里为它演奏《九韶》的音乐，还提供献祭的供品。但是，这只可怜的鸟儿看上去只有困惑和迷失，一片肉都没吃，也不喝一杯酒，没过三天就死了。问题是人们用他们自己吃的东西而不是鸟儿吃的东西来喂养一只鸟。

“养一只鸟要让它活，就叫它生活在树林之中，在河岸和水湾中跳跃，在河湖之中浮游，吃泥鳅和小鱼，成群结队地飞翔或休憩，自由自在地生活。鸟儿不喜欢听见人声，更不用说其他一切噪音和烦恼了。如果你想取悦鸟儿而在它们栖息的湖周围演奏《九韶》的音乐，鸟儿一听到音乐就会飞走。如果动物听到了，它们也会跑开躲起来；要是鱼儿听到了，也会潜入水底以逃脱。也只有人，听到之后会聚集起来倾听。

“鱼生活在水中感到很满足，可是若要让人试一试，他们会淹死，因为不同的物种需要不同的、刚好适合它的环境。因此古代的圣人从未期待其他生物能给他哪怕是一次回应，也从未试图让它们与人类保持一致。名称不能过度延伸来囊括现实，观念也只应当在合适的时候应用，因为这样不仅是合乎情理的，也会带来好运。”

……

祭祖的祭祀看了看猪圈说：“死有什么不好的呢？我花三个月时间把你们养肥，然后我要经过十天的精神戒律，三天的斋戒，铺好白色的芦苇，把你们肩部和臀部的肉切成块，然后放在献祭的地方。你们对此肯定没有意见，是吧？”

可是，事实上从猪的角度来看，吃燕麦和麸皮，然后待在猪圈里，这样的安排会更好。从我的角度来看，活着的时候成为一名重要的官员受人尊敬，死后用马拉的灵车埋葬，躺在羽毛的床上。我会接受这样的安排！而猪才不屑于这样的生活呢，但我却会很满足，尽管我不知道为什么我观察事物会跟一头猪相差这么多？

第十一部分　把握生命的目的

如果你已经把握了生命的目的，试图把生命变成不是它原来的样子或者它不可能成为的样子是没有意义的。

如果你已经把握了命运的目的，试图通过知识改变命运是没有意义的。

如果你想照料好你的身体，首先要解决好物质资料，可是即便你拥有了你想要的一切事物，身体仍可能照料不好。

你有生命之后，你必须首先保证生命不会抛弃身体。但是，也有可能身体仍保持活力，可生命却不能维持。出生不能逃避，死亡又不能避免。多荒唐啊！看到世间的人们相信只要照料身体就能保全生命。可是，如果照料身体不足以保全生命，为什么全世界的人仍继续如此呢？照料身体可能是没有意义的，但至少也不能忽视，所以就不可避免了。

如果有人不想再做任何事情来维持身体，人们便建议他们摆脱这个世界，因为摆脱之后他们就能免于承担任何义务了。不用承担义务之后，他们便能变得正直平静了。变得正直平静之后，他们便能向其他人一样获得新生。获得新生之后，他们就接近道了。为什么摆脱世间的烦恼、忘记生命的目的是一个好主意呢？如果你摆脱了生存的困扰，你的身体就不会疲倦；如果你遗忘了生命，你的精神就不会受损。因此，若你的身体和精神和谐了，你就达到天人合一了。天地是万物的父母。天地合则创造形体，天地分则创造开始。身体和精神没有缺陷的，人们就说是有适应能力。加强了再加强，就可以返还本始去辅助天。

列子问看门人尹说：“唯有完美之人可以在水下行走而不被淹死，在火里行走而不被灼伤，在众生万物间行走而不恐惧。我想问，完美之人是如何做到的？”

看门人尹答道：“因为他保全了元气，而与知识、工作、坚持或勇敢没有关系。坐下来，我把一切都讲给你听。

“万物都有面貌、形体、声音和颜色：这些只是外表。这一点和那一点怎么就能彼此分离呢？甚至，为什么它们就应当被看作是万物之中最先存在的呢？它们只是形体和颜色而已。然而，万物都开始于那无形的，最后落入那无所变化的。

“如果你能把握并懂得这个道理，并能一以贯之，什么都不能阻挡你！也意味着你能居于没有限制的界限之内，退隐于没有开端的范围之中，漫游到那万物开始和结束的地方；整合本性，滋养元气，协调德行，沿着这条路径与万物的起源相通。这样的人坚守着天人合一的状态，他的精神没有缺陷，因此，什么都不能进入他的内心去攻击他！

“如果一个醉汉从他的马车上摔下来，就算是马车正跑得飞快，他也不会摔死。他与其他人没什么两样，都有骨头和关节，但他却不会受伤，这是因为他的精神是统一的。因为他没有意识到他在出行，也完全不知道自己摔了出去，所以生、死、惊恐和害怕都不能影响他，他只是突然遭遇了一些状况，没有焦虑或受伤。

“如果通过饮酒喝醉就能够保持精神统一，那么想象一下如果天人合一的话一个人能够怎样的精神统一啊！圣人退回到天的宁静之中，因此没有什么能够伤害他。即便是在外复仇之人，都不会折断敌人的剑。不论人们多么心烦，也不会对正好掉在他们身上的瓦片发脾气。我们反倒应当认识到天下万物都是统一的。因此，我们就有可能摆脱混乱、暴力和战争，还有严酷的惩罚和死刑，因为这就是道。

“不要在人之中去倾听那属天的，而要在天之中倾听那属天的，因为看重天德能够获得生命，而注重人性却会毁坏生命。不要丢弃那属天的，但也不要轻视人的方面：这样人们就能接近实现真理了。”

……

孔子在吕梁观光，在那里瀑布有三十英寻高，河水竞流一路长达四十英里，水流得太快了，不论是鱼还是其他任何生物都无法在水里游泳。他看到一个人跳入水中，他以为这个人也许出于某种忧虑想要寻死，所以他安排他的弟子一路沿着河岸准备将他拉上岸。可是，那个游泳的人游了一百码后上岸了，若无其事地沿着河岸走，口里唱着歌，身上滴着水。

孔子追上他说：“我还以为你是个鬼呢，可是现在我看清楚了，先生你确实是一个人。我想问一下，你有水下游泳之道吗？”

他说：“没有，我没有道。我从我本来就已知道的出发，培养我的内在天性，剩下的就交给命运了。我随着水流进入水中，又随着浪花浮出水面，只是顺从水的道，并不自作主张。这就是我能在水里行动的方法。”

孔子说：“你说你从本来就已知道的出发，培养你的内在天性，剩下的就交给命运，这是什么意思？”

他说：“我出生在陆地上，在地上我感到满足，也明白我所知道的。我受到水的滋养，在水里感到安全，这就反映了我的内在天性。我不确定我为何要这么做，但是我肯定这是命运的安排。”

一个名叫庆的雕木工正在雕刻一块木头，要制成挂钟的支架，看过这个支架的人非常惊讶，因为它简直是鬼斧神工。鲁侯见了便问：“你的技艺是从何处学来的呢？”

庆答道：“我只是一个雕木工，哪有什么‘技艺’？但是，有一点我是确定的，在制作这个挂钟的支架时，我不让它损耗我的元气，所以我注意保持内心平静。斋戒三日之后，我就再也不想什么赞扬、奖赏、头衔或收入了。斋戒五日之后，我就再也不想什么光荣或责备、技巧或愚蠢了。等斋戒满七天，我就变得那样平静，连自己是否还有四肢和躯体都遗忘了。到那时，君上和他的朝廷在我的意识中就不存在了。我所有的精神都集中在一起，丝毫没有外在的担忧。随后，我就出发前往山中森林，探索树木属天的内在本性；一旦我发现了形状完美的木材，切实地看出它被制成挂钟的支架的潜力，然后就放手投入工作；要是看不到这种潜力，我就罢手不管它。如此，我就让那属天的与天相协调，或许因此人们才认为我的雕工如有神助吧！”

……

工匠倕能画得像用了直尺一般直，或者像用了圆规一般曲，因为他的手指能够顺应变化，他的心没有妨碍。因此，他的内心专一而没有阻碍。当你穿着舒服的鞋子走路的时候，你会忘记双脚。当你的腰带舒服合身的时候，你会把腰都忘了。当你的心满意前行的时候，智慧可以忘记是非。如果你对发生的一切心满意足，内心就不会有任何改变，也就没有什么会由外而生。从舒适满足出发，不经历什么烦心的事，就有可能知道什么是忘掉舒适的舒适了。

……

庄子步行穿越群山深处时看到一棵巨大、翠绿的树。一个伐木工在树边停下，但是没有砍伐这棵树。当被问及原因时，他说：“这棵树没啥用。”庄子说：“因为这棵树被认为是无用的，它才能享尽天所赋予它的寿命。”

庄子从山中出来后在一个朋友家里过夜。这位朋友很高兴，让他的儿子去杀一只鹅做菜。他儿子回应说：“一只鹅会叫，一只鹅不会叫，你说该杀哪一只呢？”父亲答道：“杀那只不会叫的。”

第二天，庄子的弟子就问他：“昨天，山中有一棵树因为没用才能享尽天所赋予的寿命。现在，在你朋友家里，一只鹅因为没用而被杀了。老师，这事你怎么看？”

庄子笑着说：“就我个人而言，我会在有用和没用之间找准一个位置。这个处于有用和没用之间的位置看似很好，但是我要告诉你们并非如此，因为麻烦还会找上你。而且，如果你想要登上道德之巅，就不是这样了。

没有确信，没有指引，

没有赞美，没有责备，

可以成龙，可以成蛇，

应时而动，只要得当。

时而向上，时而向下，

唯以和谐，做你向导，

遨游何处，万物源头。

“让万物顺其自然，但不可让万物只是把你当成一个物体，这样你就不会再陷入困境了！这也是神农和黄帝所选择的道路。不过，现在，由于物种数量众多种类丰富，再加上人类的道德规范，万物早已不是它们原来的样子！

联合只为了分离；

完成只为了崩塌；

锋利的刀刃变钝；

受提拔的被打倒；

雄心壮志被挫败；

智者被阴谋陷害；

愚蠢之人被欺骗。

“因此，能相信什么呢？我的弟子，只有道和德！”

……

孔子被困在陈国和蔡国之间，七天没有吃上热饭了。太公任前来慰问孔子，说：“先生，你认为你会死吗？”

孔子说：“当然。”

“先生，那你怕死吗？”

“当然。”

太公任说：“我想告诉你永生之道。在东海居住着一种鸟叫作意怠。这只鸟之所以意怠是因为心烦意乱又移动缓慢，心烦意乱又移动缓慢就跟没有力气一样，只有在别的鸟儿的帮助下才可以飞，而且总争着先回到巢里去。它们谁也不喜欢处在最前或待在最后，吃东西也不敢先尝。因此，这种鸟从来不单独飞，而鸟群之外没有谁能伤害它，也包括人类，这样它就可以避免灾祸了。

“挺直的树最先被砍倒；甘甜的井水最早干涸。先生，你意图展示你的知识好让那无知者感到震惊，并通过你自身的进步来表明他人的粗俗。你闪耀着，积极地发着光，就好像你将日月都带在身边似的。而所有这一切都是你无法避免灾祸的原因。

“我听大成之人说过：‘傲慢之人没做什么值得夸耀的事，而那些有所成就的人却愿意看着他们取得的成就日渐消亡，名声很快消逝。’没几个人能够忘记成功和声望，重新再做回普通人！道运行一切，但是完美之人并不立于它的光芒之下；他的道德运行一切，可是他并不追逐名望。他虚空而质朴，看似疯狂。他隐匿姓名，放弃权力，对成就和名望毫无兴趣。因此，他不批评他人，他人也不批评他。完美之人从不为人所知，因此，先生你又为何想要如此呢？”

孔子说：“太好了！”然后就向他的朋友们告别，离开他的弟子退隐到大沼泽之中，穿着兽皮和粗糙的衣服，并以橡子和栗子为食。他走入兽群之中，动物们不会害怕；走入鸟群之中，鸟儿也不会飞走。如果鸟儿和动物都不会惊慌，那么人也不必惊慌了！

孔子问桑雽：“在鲁国我曾两次被驱逐出境，在宋国差点被一棵推倒的树砸到，在卫国有关我的所有记录都被消除，在商地我贫困潦倒，在陈国和蔡国之间又受到围困。我忍受了那么多的困扰。我的朋友和我认识的人都离我而去，我的弟子也开始离弃我。可是，为什么会这样呢？”

桑雽说：“难道你没听说过那个逃亡的殷国人的故事吗？有个叫林回的，将价值千金的璧玉扔在一旁，把儿子捆在背上匆忙逃走了。有人问：‘是因为这个孩子更值钱吗？一个孩子肯定值不了那么多。是因为携带璧玉需要付出更多气力吗？显然一个孩子要更麻烦些。那么你为什么丢弃价值千金的璧玉，而背起你年幼的孩子匆忙逃跑呢？’林回对他们说：‘将我与翡翠徽章连在一起的是贪婪，而儿子与我之间的联系却是天性所牵连的。’

“如果人们之间的纽带是建立于利益之上，那么当灾祸降临时，人们很容易分离。如果人们之间的关系是天性所牵连的，那么当有麻烦时，他们会团结在一起。团结还是分离，这可是完全不同的两种结果。与君子交往可能像水一样平淡无味，而与内心卑鄙的小人交往却像酒一样甜腻。君子的平淡能发展出感情，而小人的甜蜜却会让人厌恶。毫无理由聚在一起的人，也必然会毫无理由地分离。”

……

庄子穿着一件破旧的、打着补丁的粗布长袍，用绳子拢住鞋子，就这样前去拜见魏王。魏王说：“先生，你怎么成这样子了？”

庄子答道：“我这是贫穷，而不是颓废。如果学者拥有道德却不能运用，那才是颓废呢。如果他的衣服破旧，鞋子靠绳子拢着，那是贫穷，而不是颓废。这是叫作生不逢时啊。陛下，你难道没有见过爬树的猴子吗？当它们处在悬铃木、栎树和樟脑树之中时，它们可以自如地攀着树枝，即便是后羿和蓬蒙这样的神射手都不能瞄准它们。可是，当它们来到带刺的桑树、多刺的枣树或其他有刺的灌木丛中，它们小心谨慎地移动，左顾右盼，害怕地发抖。这并不是因为它们的筋骨变得僵硬或者不能弯曲了，而是因为猴子们没有处在它们所适应的环境之中，因此不能施展它们的本领。既然我发现自己生活的时代居上者是愚昧的君主和反叛的臣子，我又如何能不颓废呢？”

……

庄子正在雕陵的一处公园里闲逛，突然看到一只奇怪的寒鸦从南方飞来。它的翼展有七英尺，眼睛大大的，直径足有一英寸。它经过时紧贴着庄子的额头掠过，然后飞到栗子林中停了下来。庄子说：“这是什么鸟啊，翅膀如此大却飞不了多远，眼睛如此大可却看不清楚？”他拉起长袍，拿着十字弓快步朝它走去，以便能够近距离向它射击。这时他看到一只蝉，正沉浸在一处极好的树荫里，忘记了自身的安全。突然，一只螳螂伸出了触角，准备袭击蝉，它如此投入到捕食之中竟也忘记了自身的安全。这只奇怪的寒鸦向下飞过，把它们两个都抓住了，不过同样地，在为战利品而兴奋的同时，它也忘记了自身的安全。庄子同情地叹了口气说：“唉！这就是一物给另一物带来灾祸的同时，也给自己带来灾祸啊。”他将十字弓扔在一旁刚要离开，守林人便来追赶他，骂他是个偷猎者。

庄子回到家后沮丧了三个月。蔺且当时正和他在一起，就问：“老师，你为何如此沮丧？”

庄子说：“我太在意我的躯体而忘记自我了。就好比看着浑浊的水，却想着它真清澈啊。而且，我以前听我老师说过：‘与当地人交往，就要像当地人一样行事。’因此我就出门到雕陵的一处公园散步，可我却忘记了自我。一只奇怪的寒鸦掠过我的额头，然后在栗树林中停下了，在那里它也忘记了自己真正的存在。守林人以为我应当受到责备。我因此感到很沮丧。”

……

孔子去见老子，发现他正在洗头。他把头发披散在肩膀上等着晾干。他一动不动站在那里，就像世界上没有其他人存在一样。孔子静静地站着，然后过了一会儿，静静地走到他的面前，说：“刚才是我眼花了吗，真的是你？刚才，先生你的身体就像是古老的朽木一样静止不动。你看上去心无所想，就好像是处在另外一个世界，完全孤立地站着。”

老子说：“我让我的心遨游于万物的元始境界了。”

孔子说：“这是什么意思呢？”

“我心里想要把它推理出来，但困困顿顿地不能理解；我的嘴一直张着，却不能够说出。不过，我还是要尽量给你描述一下。至阴严厉而冷酷，至阳美好而热烈。严厉和冷酷源自地，美好和热烈源自天。二者混合相通，彼此联合而产生了万物。或许有一个人控制并确保这一切，但是即便如此，也没人见到过任何形体或形状。衰退和成长，圆满和虚空，时而黑暗时而明亮，太阳的变化和月亮的圆缺，这些都日复一日地出现，可是没人见过是什么引发这一切的。生命有它的起源，死亡也有它的归宿。开始和结束无情地循环交替，没有人知道这一切的终点。如果不是这样，谁又是那起点和指引呢？”

孔子说：“我想问一下，这样的遨游是怎样的呢？”

老子说：“能够进行这样的遨游，是极致的美好，也是完美的幸福；能够得到极致的美好，并漫游在完美的幸福之中，就是完美之人了。”

孔子说：“我想听听怎么才能够做到呢？”

老子答道：“食草的动物不会因为草场的变更而死亡。生于水中的动物也不会因为水的更换而死亡。它们能够忍受细小的变化，但是不能忍受最根本的东西发生变化。快乐、愤怒、悲伤和高兴不会进入它们的心中。普天之下，一切生灵汇聚成一个整体。了解这个整体就能与其合而为一，而且你的四肢和百节都将只是尘灰。因为死亡与出生，结束与开始就像昼夜更替。这样你心满意足的状态就不会被得失、祸福之类的小事所扰乱了！那些轻视权力地位的人，弃之如泥土一般，因为他们知道他们真正的自我比任何头衔都重要。你对自我的珍视存于内心，不受外在发生之事的影响。万物的不断变化就像是没有结束的开始。这其中有什么能够扰乱你的心呢？那些理解道的人摆脱了所有这一切。”

孔子说：“先生，你的德行如同天地一般，可即便是你也不得不求助这些完美之辞来引导你。古代的伟人之中，又有谁能实现它呢？”

老子答道：“我自然是没有。流水什么都不做，但它遵循了它的天性。完美之人在德行方面也是如此。他不去培养它，可是所有人都受到它的存在影响。他就像天的自然高，地的自然厚，日月的自然亮。哪有必要去培养呢！”

……

庄子去拜见鲁哀公。哀公说：“鲁国有很多儒者，但是他们之中很少有人研究你的著作，先生。”

庄子说：“鲁国儒者很少。”

哀公说：“鲁国上下都是穿着儒者衣服的人。你怎么能说很少呢？”

庄子说：“我听说，那些儒者中头戴圆帽的，懂得天时；脚踏方鞋的，懂得地势；腰带上挂着半圆形玉玦的，对眼前发生的一切应对自如。不过，能理解道的君子，未必穿那种服装；当然，他也可能穿上那种服装，却根本不懂得道！如果陛下对此仍有疑问，不妨下一道命令，说：‘任何不能行道而着儒服者，杀！’”

哀公就照此行了，五天后整个鲁国没有一个儒者敢穿儒服了！只有一个老者穿着儒服站在哀公门外。哀公即刻召见他，与他讨论国家事务。虽然他们讨论了上千事宜，中间有成千上万次离题，可是老者应答如流。

庄子说：“因此，整个鲁国只有这一个人是儒者。你怎么能说有很多呢？”

第十二部分　勿要问道

知向北漫游，直至玄水的岸边，登上隐弅山丘后，恰好碰到无为谓。知对无为谓说：“我想问你点事。要想懂得道需要怎样的思考和反应呢？我们应当在何处、以何种方式保证能够安心于道呢？要获得道我们需要通过何种途径、采取何种计划呢？”他问了无为谓三个问题，可是对方没有回答。他并非知而不答，而是根本不知道如何回答。

知没有得到任何答案，所以他继续向白水的南方前行，爬上了狐阕山顶，在那里看到了狂屈。知向狂屈提出了同样的问题。狂屈说：“啊哈！我知道，让我来告诉你。”可他说到一半时，却忘了要说什么！

知又没有得到任何答案，所以他就返回到王宫去拜见黄帝并向他请教。黄帝说：“试着不要思考、不要反应，这样你就会懂得道了。只有当你无处可寻、无路可走的时候，你才能在道中得到心安。没有途径、没有计划，这样你才能获得道。”

知对黄帝说：“你我都懂得了这个道理，可是其他人都不懂，那么我们到底谁是对的呢？”

黄帝说：“无为谓才是真正对的。狂屈看似是对的。你我终究还是差得太远啊。

懂得道的人，什么都不说。

说道的人，其实并不懂得。

所以圣人遵循无言的教诲。

道不能催生，德不能求取。

不过，仁却可以为人所施，

义能够争取，礼可以遵守。

可以说：道失去了德出现；

德如果也失去了，仁出现；

仁如果再失去了，义出现；

义如果还是丢失，才有礼。

礼只是道褶边上一个装饰，

即将发生混乱的一个标志。

“可以说：‘遵循道的人每天做的越来越少。随着他做的越来越少，他最终会实现无为而为。实现无为而为后，就没有什么是没有完成的了。’既然我们已然积极作为，如果我们想要返回原初的状态，会发现这是多么的难啊！除了伟人，谁又能改变这种情形呢？

生向着死前行，死是生的先驱。

谁又能知道它们运行的方式呢？

人的生命最初以元气作为开端；

气聚时方有生，气散时便有死。”

……

孔子对老子说：“今天，您好像很轻松，因此我想请教什么是完美的道？”

老子说：“你应当通过斋戒和苦行来清洁和净化你的心，洁净你的灵魂，抑制你的知识。道是深奥难言的啊！我愿意尽量说说对它的一些理解：

“那光明闪耀的生于幽深黑暗之中；

井然有序之物源于那没有定形的；

那属精神的是从道之中生出来的；

身体的根源来自于精液中的精华；

万物皆通过出生而赋予彼此形体。

拥有九窍的动物皆腹中怀胎而生，

而那拥有八窍的动物都是卵生的。

道来时没有踪迹，去时也无迹象，

既不进门也不居留，通达于四方。

那些与道同行的人将会身体强壮，

他们的思想真诚的同时不失深奥，

耳聪目明，即使用心也不知疲倦，

对万物做出回应时没有丝毫偏见。

正因如此，天是高的而地是广的，

日月运行，万物繁荣。这便是道！

“即便最广博的知识也不能理解它。

理性不代表智慧，故圣人皆弃之。

有一种东西是完整的，无需增加；

而且无论你拿走什么都不会减少。

这就是圣人始终保持不变的东西。

它渊深得如同大海，

它峻峭得如同高山，

结束也是开始，承载万物而不缺。

君子之道只是外观，这才是真道！”

……

泰清请教无穷说：“先生，你懂得道吗？”

无穷说：“我不懂。”

接着他又问无为，无为说：“我懂得道。”

泰清就问：“先生，你所理解的道，有什么特别的提示吗？”

“有。”

“是什么？”

无为说：“就我所知，道可以提高也可以降低，可以聚结也可以分散。要懂得道，这些就是我所能给你的提示。”

带着不同的答案，泰清去找无始，说：“无穷说他不懂得，而无为说他懂得，我想知道这二人之中谁是对的，谁又是错的。”

无始说：“说不懂得是深奥的，而说懂得是浅薄的。说不懂得是向内寻求，说懂得是向外求索。”

随后泰清仰望天空，叹道：“说不懂得是懂得，说懂得是不懂得啊！谁能懂得说不懂得才是懂得啊？”

无始说：

“道不能被听见，能听见的就不是道。

道不能被看见，能看见的就不是道。

道不能被言说，能言说的就不是道。

你知道谁赋形给无形吗？道没有名。”

无始继续说：

“有人向你问道你就回答，说明你不懂得道。

“问道之人对道什么都不懂。

“勿要问道，因为问道是不合适的，这个问题也无法得到回答，因为这就像是问那些处于悲惨窘境的人。回答不能回答的问题，表明内心尚未理解。当一个内心尚未理解的人等着那些处于悲惨窘境的人回答的时候，就表明他们对外没有把握他们所处的世界，对内没有理解那伟大的开始。所以他们既不能跨越昆仑山，也不能遨游于大虚空。”

……

南荣趎准备好吃的喝的之后就出发了，过了七天七夜，他来到了老子家中。

老子说：“你是从庚桑楚那里来的吗？”

南荣趎答道：“是的。”

“那么，先生，你怎么带着这么一大群人跟着你呢？”

南荣趎转过身去，很吃惊地看着身后。

老子说：“先生，你难道不明白我的意思吗？”

南荣趎羞愧地低下头，然后抬起头来，叹息说：“现在我记不得我所要回答的话了，因此也就忘了我要问什么了。”

老子说：“你在说什么？”

南荣趎说：“我对事物有任何了解吗？人们说我愚蠢。我懂吗？这只能让我烦恼。如果我不是仁慈的，那么我会让他人痛苦。如果我是仁慈的，那么我自己又会痛苦。如果我不是公义的，那么我会伤害他人。如果我是公义的，那么我自己又会烦恼。我怎样才能摆脱这一切呢？这三个问题困扰着我，所以我听从了庚桑楚的意见，来向您请教这些问题。”

老子答道：“刚才，我深入观察了你的眼睛，我能看出你是怎样的一个人。你刚才所说的话证实了我是对的。你不知所措、困惑迷乱，就好像是失去了父母，而要用一根竿子伸到海底去寻找他们。你迷失了，感到害怕。你想重新发现你的自我和内在天性，可是你不知道要怎样去做。你的处境真是可怜啊！”

南荣趎请求回到他的房间。他努力发展好的东西，让自己摆脱坏的东西。愁苦了十天之后，他出来了，再次去见老子。

老子说：“我能够看出你一直在认真仔细地洗涤心灵、净化自我，不过你仍然是不纯洁的，尽管外在很干净。在你的内心有东西在搅动，心里仍然有一些腐朽的东西。外在的影响会压在你的身上，你会发现不能控制它们。向它们关闭你内在自我的门户是比较明智的。同样地，如果是内在的影响扰乱你，而且你发现不可能控制它们，那么也要关闭你内在自我的门户，好把它们关在里面。要同时抵抗外在的和内在的影响，就算是这对于一个懂得道与德的人来说，都已经超出了他的控制，何况是一个在道的方向刚刚起步的人呢！”

南荣趎说：“一个村民生病了，邻居询问他的病情。他能描述他的病，虽然这种病他以前从来没得过。当我向你请教大道时，就像是喝了让我病情加重的药。我就想了解保护生命的一般方法就可以了。”

“保护生命的基本方法——你能抱一吗？”老子说。“你能守终吗？你能不用龟壳或蓍草占卜而知祸福吗？你知道何时收手，何时终止吗？你能忘记他人而专心于内在自我吗？你能躲避诱惑吗？你能真诚待人吗？你能成为小婴儿吗？婴儿整日哭泣，喉咙却不会嘶哑：真是完美的和谐。婴儿整日紧握拳头，两手却从不痉挛，因为他持守天道。婴儿整日盯着看，外面的世界却不能影响他。他行动却不知去向何方，他坐着却不知坐在何处，他安静平和，随遇而安。这就是保护生命之法。”

南荣趎接着问：“难道这就是成为完美之人所要做的一切吗？”

“当然不是。这是所谓的冰消冻解。你能做到吗？完美之人就如同跟他人是一体的，共同从大地寻找食物，向上天寻找快乐。但是，他从不考虑从他人处获利或有所得，不把自己拖入图谋策划之中，也不卷入不切实际的事业。他去时，机警灵活、永不停歇；他来时，天真率直、毫无矫饰。这才可以被称为保护生命的方法。”

“那么，这个就是他的完美状态吗？”

老子答道：“还不算。刚才我问你：‘你能成为幼小的婴儿吗？’婴儿行动时却不知道为了什么，行动时却不知道要去哪里。他的身体就像日渐腐朽的树枝，他的心就像已然冷却的灰烬。就这样，祸不会影响他，福也不会降临。既无祸福，他就不会被那降临到大多数人身上的不幸所影响了。”

……

可以说：

“完美的行为不分别众人；

完美的公义不计较外物；

完美的知识不需要谋划；

完美的仁慈不表露情感；

完美的信仰不誓言真诚。”

压制意志的冲动，

解开心中的误解。

除去德行的症结，

开启大道的运行。

荣誉和财富，

显赫和权威，

名声和利禄，

此六者为意志幻觉所形成。

外表和风格，

美好和理性，

盛气和回忆，

此六者都是心的缺陷。

厌恶和喜欢，

喜悦和愤怒，

悲伤和幸福，

此六者是德行的症结。

拒绝和接受，

给予和获取，

知识和能力，

此六者是大道运行的阻碍。

当这四组各六项不再折磨

心绪时，你就处于中心了。

处于中心，你就能够平静。

能够平静，就能得到启蒙。

得到启蒙，你就能够虚空。

虚空之后，便是无为而为。

无为而为，便能成就一切。

道是献身德行的核心部分。

生命呢，则是德行的光亮。

内在的天性是生命的动力。

……

庄子家境贫寒，因此他前去向监河侯借点米。监河侯说：“可以啊。我就要收到百姓缴纳的赋税了，到时候给你三百金，够吗？”

庄子气得脸都紫了，说：“昨天在我来的路上，我听到有个声音在叫我。我环顾一周，在马车留的车辙之中看到一条大鱼。我说：‘鱼啊！你在这里做什么？’它说：‘我是东海掌管波浪的大臣。阁下，不知您是否可以给我一些水？’我说：‘好的。我要到南方去游历吴国和越国，随后我会改变西河水流的方向，那样水就会流到你这了。这样可以吗？’大鱼气得脸都紫了，说：‘我离开了我所必须的东西，没有地方可去了。只要给我一点水我就能活下去。可是，你这样来答复我，那你以后就只有到干鱼摊上来找我了！”

……

伟大的合一懂得道，

伟大的神秘显露道，

伟大的阴气观察道，

伟大的眼睛看见道，

伟大的平等是开始，

伟大的技能产生道，

伟大的信任触碰道，

伟大的法官持守道。

天道存在于万物之中：追随光明，躲入阴暗，开始存在于万物之中。这样做，你的理解就好像是不理解，你的智慧就好像是不明智。正因为不明智，随后你才能变得明智。当你问问题时，不要设定界限，即便它们不可能是没有界限的。尽管事物好像有时上升，有时下落，有时溜走，但无论如何有一个自古至今一成不变的事实。它不会改变，因为什么都不能影响它。难道我们不能说它就是唯一伟大的和谐吗？那么我们为什么不应当探究它，我们又为什么如此困惑呢？如果我们用不让人困惑的东西来理解那确实让人困惑的东西，那么我们就能够回归到那不让人困惑的东西上来了。这将是人之大不惑。

……

四季各有原初的生命，

而上天没有任何偏私，

故四季循环得以实现。

政府五部门职能不同，

而君主没有任何偏私，

因此国家得以治理好。

战争与和平二者之中，

伟人不偏好任何一个，

因而他道德才能完美。

万物都是各不相同的，

然而道不会区别对待，

因此道是没有名称的。

没有名称，无为而为，

尽管如此，万物并生。

四季循环，世代更替。

祸福会降临到你身上，

有的时候它不受欢迎，

也有时候你乐于接受。

习惯接受自己的看法，

然后与别人进行争辩，

有时也要谴责正直的，

然后谴责那些使坏的。

你应当像那大沼泽地，

能够容下上百种树木。

或者应当像一座大山，

草木共存能安处一地。

这便是所谓丘里之言。

第十三部分　何为本真？

从前，赵文王喜爱刀剑。各路行家里手都来到他门前，足有三千多人，都是剑术方面的专业人士。他们做他的宾客。他们没日没夜地在他面前比武，每年死伤的人数超过一百。可是国王从未停止对比武观赏的喜爱。这样持续了三年，随后国家开始分裂，其他诸侯也开始谋划将其推翻。

太子悝为此心烦意乱，便向他左右的人说明此情形。

他说：“如果有人能够劝说国王远离这些剑客，我就给他一千黄金。”

左右的人说：“庄子能做到。”

太子派了一名使者带着一千黄金去见庄子。庄子拒绝接受黄金，但还是跟着使者一同返回。他进来拜见太子，说：“太子啊，你有什么事情指教我，要送给我一千黄金？”

太子说：“我听说先生是有名的智者。这一千黄金的赏赐是犒劳你的随从的。可是，你拒绝接受，我又怎么敢再多说什么呢？”

庄子说：“我听说太子想要用我来帮助国王戒除他长久以来的爱好。如果我在试图说服国王时让他感到心烦，没能完成你交托的事，那么我可能会被处死。到时候黄金对我又有何用呢？或者，如果我能够说服国王，完成了你的心愿，整个赵国又有什么是我不能求取的呢？”

太子说：“没错。可是国王只召见剑客。”

庄子说：“没关系。我对剑术也很在行。”

太子说：“太好了。不过国王召见的剑客都是头发蓬乱，胡子拉碴，戴着用简单粗糙的带子系着的宽大帽子，而且穿着后面被剪短的袍子。他们怒目环视，只谈论他们的剑术。国王就喜欢这样的。现在，如果你穿着儒服觐见，那么你第一步就完全走错了。”

庄子说：“请允许我去准备剑客的全套装备。”

他三天之内就全都准备好了，然后回去见太子。太子带着他去觐见国王，国王已拔出剑，坐在那等着他了。庄子缓慢地穿过大门走进大堂。当他见到国王时，并不行礼。

国王问道：“你对我有何指教，竟然让太子给你带路？”

“我听说大王喜欢刀剑，所以我把我的剑带来让大王看看。”

“你的剑在战斗中有何用？”

“我的剑可以每走十步杀一人，而且即便过了一千英里它的威力也不会减弱。”

国王很高兴，说：“那天下就没有人能比得过你了。”

庄子答道：“一个好的剑客开始先佯攻，然后佯败引诱对方，跟着就是一击，后于对方发出，先于对方到达。我想向您展示一下我的技巧。”

国王说：“先生，到你的房中先休息片刻，听候我的命令。我会安排比赛然后再叫你。”

国王接下来一连七天测试他的剑客。死亡或严重受伤的超过六十人，只剩下五六个人被选出来，受命来到大堂。然后国王叫来庄子，说：“现在，就在今天，我让你跟这些人比试，展示一下你的剑术。”

庄子说：“我一直等待这样一个机会。”

国王问道：“先生，你想选什么样的剑，长的还是短的？”

庄子说：“什么样的都行，不过我有三把剑，只要国王同意，我用哪一把都可以。不过，首先我想对它们做个介绍，然后再用。”

国王说：“我愿意听你说说这三把剑。”

庄子说：“我有天子之剑、诸侯之剑和百姓之剑。”

“天子之剑是什么样的？”

“天子之剑以燕谿为剑尖，以长城、齐国和泰山为剑刃。晋国和卫国是剑背，周朝和宋国是剑柄，而韩国和魏国是剑鞘。它的四面由蛮夷包围，被四季裹藏。渤海环绕着它，永恒的常山缠束着它。五行制衡着它，刑罚和道德缠裹着它。它遵循着阴阳而出现，在春夏之中保持警觉，并于秋冬之中采取行动。向前刺去，它前面就不剩什么了；向上举起，它上面就不剩什么了；向下按低，它下面就不剩什么了；左右挥动，它四周就不剩什么了。若举得高高的，它能将天劈开；若按得低低的，它能将地脉切断。用这把剑只需一次，便可以让天下诸侯归顺、万民臣服。这就是天子之剑。”

文王大为惊讶，好像已经忘记了别的一切。

他问：“诸侯之剑是什么样的？”

庄子说：“诸侯之剑的剑尖是睿智勇敢之人；剑刃是正直诚实之人；剑背是高尚善良之人；剑柄是诚信明智之人；剑鞘是勇敢杰出之人。这把剑若向前刺去，没有什么能够抵抗；若挥向高处，没有什么能在它之上；若挥向低处，没有什么能在它之下；若四处旋转，没有什么能够靠近它。在上，它效法天道，能与三大光明一同前行。在下，它效法方静的地道，能与四季的运行同时进行。在中原之地它能恢复百姓的和谐，与四方保持平衡。这把剑一使用，就好似响起雷声隆隆。四方疆界之内，人人守法，并且所有人都遵守诸侯的命令。这就是诸侯之剑。”

“百姓之剑又是什么样的？”

“百姓之剑是由那些头发蓬乱、胡子拉碴，戴着用简单粗糙的带子系着的宽大帽子，而且穿着后面被剪短的袍子的人所使用的。他们怒目环视，只谈论他们的剑术，同时会在国王面前比武。举起剑来，能够砍断脖子；向下挥动，能划开肝肺。使用百姓之剑的人跟随时可能丧命的斗鸡没什么两样。现在呢，噢，大王，您拥有天子的地位，却因为喜爱百姓之剑，让自己变得毫无价值。这就是我斗胆之言。”

国王将庄子带到他的大殿，膳食官奉上食物，国王围着房间大踏步绕了三圈。

“大王，坐下来平静一下，有关剑要说的我都已经说了。”

这之后，文王三个月没有外出，他的所有剑客都在自己房中自杀而死。

……

孔子在缁帷之林中漫步，在杏坛边上坐了下来。他的弟子开始读书，孔子在弹琴唱歌。他的歌唱了还不到一半时，一位渔夫下船并朝他的方向走来。渔夫的胡须眉毛都是白的，头发很乱，袖子耷拉在身体两侧。他走上斜坡，来到干燥一点的地面上就停下了，左手放在膝盖上，右手托着下巴，一直聆听直到曲终。随后，他就招呼子贡和子路，他们俩就去见他。

他指着孔子说：“那是谁啊？”

子路说：“他是鲁国来的君子。”

渔夫随后问起孔子的家庭。子路说：“孔氏一家。”

“这位孔氏后人靠什么为生呢？”

子路正在想说什么，子贡回答说：“这位孔氏后人，在内在天性上，他持守忠诚；在行动上，他表现仁义；他修饰礼乐，协调人际关系。在上，尊重君上；在下，努力教化百姓，想要以此造福整个世界。这就是这位孔氏后人所做的事情。”

渔夫进而又问：“他拥有要他治理的土地吗？”

子贡说：“没有。”

“他是哪个国王的辅佐大臣吗？”

“不是。”

陌生人笑着转身离开，说：“那么，仁倒是仁，可是他免不了要伤害自身了。内心疲惫、身体匮乏会伤及他真正的天性。可惜啊，我想他已离道太远了。”

子贡回去将此事告诉孔子。孔子将琴放到一旁，站起来说：“或许他是个圣人。”随后他便走下斜坡去找渔夫了。他来到水边时，渔夫正要用篙撑船离开。看到孔子，他又把船撑回来见他。孔子赶紧向后退了几步，两次行礼后再走向前。

陌生人说：“先生，你想干什么？”

孔子说：“先生，刚才您说了一些话，但是没有说完。我没有才学，理解不了。所以我想找您，哪怕只是听听您说话的声音，希望能够对我有所启发。”

“噢，你真是好学啊，先生！”

孔子两次行礼后站起来，说：“从很小的时候，我就开始追求学问，现在我都六十九岁了，可是我从未听到过完美的讲道，所以除了时刻保持虚心之外我又能做什么呢？”

陌生人说：“物以类聚，每个音符也只是自我回应。这是天所设立的界限。我不会讨论与我相关的事，而只关注你需要了解的东西。先生，你埋头所做的都是人事。天子、诸侯、大臣和百姓，如果这四种人都做正确的事，就能实现美好团结了。如果这四种人分崩离析，那么就会造成可怕的大混乱。如果臣子尽自己的本分，百姓也关心自己的事情，那么人们就不会彼此侵犯。

“田地荒芜，屋顶漏雨，衣食不足，赋税不公正，妻妾不睦，长幼失序，这些都是百姓的烦恼。

“工作能力不足，工作感到无聊，行为不轨，手下粗心懒散，工作没业绩，职位不稳固，这些都是大臣的烦恼。

“没有忠心的臣子，国家陷于内战，工匠技艺不精，贡品毫无价值，春秋集会布置简陋，天子忧虑不安，这些都是诸侯的烦恼。

“阴阳失调，寒暑波动毁坏万物，诸侯的压迫和叛乱，引发暴动，荼毒百姓，礼仪施行不善，国库亏空，社会关系混乱，百姓淫乱，这些都是天子和他的子民的烦恼。

“现在，先生，在这个序列较高的一端，你不是统治者，也不是诸侯，甚至都不是宫廷中的司官，而在另一端，你也没有大臣的职位以及大臣的所有职责。尽管如此，你却决定要修饰礼乐，协调人际关系，并借此教化普通百姓。难道你这不是做得太过了吗？

“另外，有八种毛病是人很容易犯的，还有四种罪恶会影响他们的处事，这些都不能被忽视：

‘不是自己的事情却要参与，是专横。

‘没人理你的时候偏要让人注意，是冒昧。

‘用专门讨好的话来拍别人马屁，是谄媚。

‘对于别人说的话不辨是非，是阿谀。

‘好谈论别人的过失，是谗毁。

‘挑拨朋友和家庭关系，是恶毒。

‘为了伤害别人而虚假称赞，是邪恶。

‘不辨是非，而且为了摸清他人底细两面三刀，是奸诈。

‘这八种毛病不仅给别人造成混乱，而且对实施者自身也会造成伤害。君子不与有这八种毛病的人交朋友，明君也不会任命这样的人做臣子。

‘至于我之前所说的四种罪恶，它们是：

‘野心——喜欢承担大的事业，改变老的传统，希望能够以此提高自己的名声和地位。

‘贪婪——自以为无所不知，试图让所有事情都按照自己的方式来做，把别人做的事情说成是自己做的。

‘顽固——看到自己的错误后不肯改正，坚持按照错误的方式行事。

‘偏狭——别人赞同你时，你笑脸相迎；别人不赞同你了，就绝交并鄙视他们。’

‘这就是那四种罪恶。如果你能消除八种毛病，避免四种罪恶，那么你就达到可以受教的程度了。”

孔子神情哀伤，叹了口气，两次行礼后站起来说：“鲁国两次将我驱逐出境，我从卫国逃离，在宋国他们砍倒了一棵树差点砸到我，而且在陈国、蔡国之间又遭受围困。我不知道我做了什么让人们这样误解我。为什么我要遭受这四种灾祸呢？”

陌生人面露忧容，接着他的脸色就变了，说：“先生，要让你弄明白太难了！曾经有一个人，他害怕自己的影子和脚印，所以他想要逃跑来躲避它们。可是，他每次抬脚放下都会产生更多的脚印，而且不管他跑得有多快，他的影子始终跟着他。他认为自己跑得太慢，就加快速度跑，这样一直不停，直到最后筋疲力尽、倒地而亡。他不知道，只要找个树荫坐下，他就能摆脱他的影子；也不知道，只要静止不动，他就会停止产生脚印。他真是一个大傻瓜啊！

“先生，你想要区分仁义的范围，探求异同的边界，研究静止和运动之间的变化，就给予和接受发表意见，要求人们喜欢什么不喜欢什么，统一喜悦和愤怒的限度，但是你几乎一直没有摆脱过灾祸。要是以前你能严格修身，小心谨慎保全本真，并且愿意让其他的人和物也回归他们本来的样子，那么你本可以避免这些麻烦的。可是，看你现在，自己不能修身却决定要教化别人。难道你不是过于执著于外在事物了吗？”

孔子很沮丧，说：“我能向你请教何为本真吗？”

陌生人答道：“真正的本真是简单纯粹的极致状态。没有纯粹、没有真诚就意味着你不能感动别人。因此，如果你假装哀伤哭泣，那么不论你如何投入，也不是真正的悲伤。如果你强使自己表现愤怒，即便你听上去非常凶猛，也不会让人畏惧。如果你强使自己表现热情，不管你怎样笑，你也不能营造和谐。真正的悲伤可以无声但真是哀痛；真正的愤怒，即便不显露出来，也让人畏惧；真正的感情甚至没有微笑都能营造和谐。如果一个人内心拥有本真，会影响他的外在精神，因此本真非常重要。”

第十四部分　后记

庄子说：“理解道容易，不说它很难。理解却不说，是为了追求属天的。理解并说出，是受制于人的因素。以前人们关注的是属天的，而不是属人的。”

……

宋国有一个人，名叫曹商，宋王派他作为大使出使秦国。在他离开宋国时，只给了他几辆马车。可是，秦王与他相处得很愉快，就给了他一百多辆。返回宋国的路上，他遇到庄子，说：“生活于贫穷村落的简陋街巷中，靠制作草鞋为生，还得忍饥挨饿，弄得颈项干瘪、面容憔悴，这样的日子我无法忍受！但是，得到拥有万辆马车的君王的信任，就可以被赏赐其中的一百辆，这样的日子我喜欢，而且我也擅长于此。”

庄子说：“嗯。秦王生病的时候，他召见医生，谁能切开溃疡挤出脓水就能得到一辆马车作为赏赐。而把药物塞到他直肠之中的医生能得到五辆马车。所医治的病越卑下，赏赐的马车就越多。那么，先生，我想你定是一直为他舔舐痔疮才能得到这么多马车吧？请走开吧，先生！”

……

有人请庄子到朝中做官。庄子答复来使说：“先生，你见过献祭的牛吗？人们用精美的服饰装扮它，用青草和大豆喂养它。可是，当它被牵到太庙之中时，就算它最热切期盼的是单纯地做一头牛犊，又怎么可能呢！”

庄子就要死了，他的弟子想要为他举行隆重的葬礼。庄子说：“我把天地作我的寿衣和棺木，让日月作我的双璧，让群星作我的珠宝，让万物作我的送葬人。我的葬礼一切具备，还缺什么吗？我还需要什么呢？”

他的弟子说：“先生，我们担心乌鸦和老鹰会把您吃掉。”

庄子说：“在地上，我被乌鸦和老鹰吃掉；在地下，还不是被蠕虫和蚂蚁吃掉。夺了这个的给那个，你们这不就是偏袒吗？

“试图用不平等的东西去创造平等，只能是平等地不平等。试图用不确定的东西去证明某事，必然只会让事情不确定。一个人如果视力清晰就以为自己明白，那他只是为视力，而一个人在精神引导之下才能洞见真实。我们用眼睛所看到的东西与我们通过精神所懂得的东西是不同的，这个智慧之见由来已久了。可是愚蠢的人依赖他们的眼睛，陷入到只是属人的东西之中而丢失了自我，他所做的一切都只是假象——多可悲啊！”

……

“茫然呆滞的没有形体；

改变和变化永不停歇；

什么是生？什么是死？

什么又是以天地为伴？

清明的精神去向何方？

若被遗忘，又将如何？”

我们被万物环绕，可是没有哪个是我们的归宿。从前人们以为这就是道的方法。庄子听说了这些看法，很高兴。他就用奇怪神秘的说法、荒唐离奇的短语、语意模糊的术语来教授它们。他教授的是他所相信的，可是却从来不偏执，也不会只是从一个角度看待事物。在他眼里，整个世界陷入愚蠢之中，因此已无法理解任何合乎情理之事。

参考资料

本书内容摘选自企鹅经典系列《庄子》一书。第一部分选自第2章，第二部分选自第3、4和5章；第三部分选自第6章；第四部分选自第7和8章；第五部分选自第1、5、17、18、24和26章；第六部分选自第9章；第七部分选自第10和11章；第八部分选自第11、12和13章；第九部分选自第14和16章；第十部分选自第17和18章；第十一部分选自第19、20和21章；第十二部分选自22、23、24和26章；第十三部分选自第30和31章；第十四部分选自第32和33章。

Chuang Tzu
The Tao of Nature

TRANSLATED BY MARTIN PALMER WITH

ELIZABETH BREUILLY AND JAY RAMSAY

SELECTED BY MARTIN PALMER

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

PART 1
Working Everything
Out Evenly

Now, I have something to say. Do I know whether this is in the same sort of category as what is said by others? I don't know. At one level, what I say is not the same. At another level, it most definitely is, and there is no difference between what I say and what others say. Whatever the case, let me try and tell you what I mean.

There is the beginning; there is not as yet any beginning of the beginning; there is not as yet beginning not to be a beginning of the beginning. There is what is, and there is what is not, and it is not easy to say whether what is not, is not; or whether what is, is.

I have just made a statement, yet I do not know whether what I said has been real in what I said or not really said.

Under Heaven there is nothing greater than the tip of a hair, but Mount Tai is smaller; there is no one older than a dead child, yet Peng Tsu died young.

Heaven and Earth and I were born at the same time, and all life and I are one.

As all life is one, what need is there for words? Yet I have just said all life is one, so I have already spoken, haven't I? One plus one equals two, two plus one equals three. To go on from here would take us beyond the understanding of even a skilled accountant, let alone the ordinary people. If going from 'no-thing' to 'some-thing' we get to three, just think how much further we would have to go if we went from 'some-thing' to something!

Don't even start, let's just stay put.

The great Tao has no beginning, and words have changed their meaning from the beginning, but because of the idea of a 'this is' there came to be limitations. I want to say something about these limitations. There is right and left, relationships and their consequences, divisions and disagreements, emulations and contentions. These are known as the eight Virtues.

The sage will not speak of what is beyond the boundaries of the universe-though he will not deny it either. What is within the universe, he says something about but does not pronounce upon. Concerning the record of the past actions of the kings in the Spring and Autumn Annals, the sage discusses but does not judge. When something is divided, something is not divided; when there is disagreement there are things not disagreed about.

You ask, what does this mean? The sage encompasses everything, while ordinary people just argue about things. This is why I say that disagreement means you do not understand at all.

The great Way is not named,
the great disagreement is unspoken,
great benevolence is not benevolent,
great modesty is not humble,
great courage is not violent.

The Tao that is clear is not the Tao,
speech which enables argument is not worthy,
benevolence which is ever present does not achieve its goal,
modesty if flouted, fails,
courage that is violent is pointless.

[...]

Yeh Chueh said to Wang Ni, 'Do you know, Master, what everything agrees upon?'

'How can I possibly know?' said Wang Ni.

'Do you know, Master, what you do not know?'

'How can I know?' he replied.

'Then does nothing know anything?'

'How could I know that?' said Wang Ni. 'Nevertheless, I want to try and say something. How can I know that what I say I know is not actually what I don't know? Likewise, how can I know that what I think I don't know is not really what I do know? I want to put some questions to you:

'If someone sleeps in a damp place, he will ache all over and he will be half paralysed, but is it the same for an eel? If someone climbs a tree, he will be frightened and shaking, but is it so for a monkey? Out of these three, which is wisest about where to live?

'Humans eat meat, deer consume grass, centipedes devour snakes and owls and crows enjoy mice. Of these four, which has the best taste?

'Monkeys mate with each other, deer go with deer. People said that Mao Chiang and Li Chi were the most beautiful women in the world, but fish seeing them dived away, birds took off into the air and deer ran off. Of these four, who really knows true beauty? As I see it, benevolence and righteousness, also the ways of right and wrong, are completely interwoven. I do not think I can know the difference between them!'

Yeh Chueh said: 'Master, if you do not know the difference between that which is good and that which is harmful, does this mean the perfect man is also without such knowledge?'

'The perfect man is pure spirit,' replied Wang Ni. 'He does not feel the heat of the burning deserts nor the cold of the vast waters. He is not frightened by the lightning which can split open mountains, or by the storms that can whip up the seas. Such a person rides the clouds and mounts upon the sun and moon, and wanders across and beyond the four seas. Neither death nor life concern him, nor is he interested in what is good or bad!'

Chu Chiao Tzu asked Chang Wu Tzu,

'I have heard from the Master
that the sage does not labour at anything,
does not look for advantage,
does not act benevolently,
does not harm,
does not pursue the Tao;

He speaks without speaking,
and does not speak when he speaks,
and looks beyond the confines of this dusty world.

'The Master sees all this as an endless stream of words, but to me they are like the words of the mysterious Tao. Master, what do you think?'

Chang Wu Tzu said, 'Such a saying as this would have confused even the Yellow Emperor, so how could Confucius be able to understand them! However, you are getting ahead of yourself, counting your chickens before your eggs are hatched and looking at the bowl, imagining the roasted fowl. I will try to speak to you in a random way, so you listen to me likewise. How can the wise one sit beside the sun and moon and embrace the universe? Because he brings all things together in harmony, he rejects difference and confusion and ignores status and power. While ordinary people rush busily around, the sage seems stupid and ignorant, but to him all life is one and united. All life is simply what it is and all appear to him to be doing what they rightly should.

'How do I know that the love of life is not a delusion? Or that the fear of death is not like a young person running away from home and unable to find his way back? The Lady Li Chi was the daughter of a border warden, Ai. When the state of Chin captured her, she wept until she had drenched her robes; then she came to the King's palace, shared the King's bed, ate his food, and repented of her tears. How do I know whether the dead now repent for their former clinging to life?

'Come the morning, those who dream of the drunken feast may weep and moan; when the morning comes, those who dream of weeping and moaning go hunting in the fields. When they dream, they don't know it is a dream. Indeed, in their dreams they may think they are interpreting dreams, only when they awake do they know it was a dream. Eventually there comes the day of reckoning and awakening, and then we shall know that it was all a great dream. Only fools think that they are now awake and that they really know what is going on, playing the prince and then playing the servant. What fools! The Master and you are both living in a dream. When I say a dream, I am also dreaming. This very saying is a deception. If after ten thousand years we could once meet a truly great sage, one who understands, it would seem as if it had only been a morning.

'Imagine that you and I have a disagreement, and you get the better of me, rather than me getting the better of you, does this mean that you are automatically right and I am automatically wrong? Suppose I get the better of you, does it follow that I am automatically right and you are therefore wrong? Is it really that one of us is right and the other wrong? Or are we both right and both wrong? Neither you nor I can really know and other people are even more in the dark. So who can we ask to give us the right answer? Should you ask someone who thinks you are right? But how then can that person give a fair answer? Should we ask someone who thinks I am right? But then if he agrees with me, how can he make a fair judgement? Then again, should we ask someone who agrees with both of us? But again, if he agrees with both of us, how can he make a true judgement? Should we ask someone who disagrees with both of us? But here again, if he disagrees with both of us, how can he make an honest judgement? It is clear that neither you, I nor anyone else can make decisions like this amongst ourselves. So should we wait for someone else to turn up?

'To wait for one voice to bring it all together is as pointless as waiting for no one. Bring all things together under the Equality of Heaven, allow their process of change to go on unimpeded, and learn to grow old. What do I mean by bringing everything together under the Equality of Heaven? With regard to what is right and wrong, I say not being is being and being is not being. But let us not get caught up in discussing this. Forget about life, forget about worrying about right and wrong. Plunge into the unknown and the endless and find your place there!'

The Outline said to the Shadow, 'First you are on the move, then you are standing still; you sit down and then you stand up. Why can't you make up your mind?'

Shadow replied, 'Do I have to look to something else to be what I am? Does this something else itself not have to rely upon yet another something? Do I have to depend upon the scales of a snake or the wings of a cicada? How can I tell how things are? How can I tell how things are not?'

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzu, dreamt that I was a butterfly, flitting around and enjoying myself. I had no idea I was Chuang Tzu. Then suddenly I woke up and was Chuang Tzu again. But I could not tell, had I been Chuang Tzu dreaming I was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I was now Chuang Tzu? However, there must be some sort of difference between Chuang Tzu and a butterfly! We call this the transformation of things.

PART 2
Perfect Accord

Cook Ting was butchering an ox for Lord Wen Hui. Every movement of his hand, every shrug of his shoulder, every step of his feet, every thrust of his knee, every sound of the sundering flesh and the swoosh of the descending knife, were all in perfect accord, like the Mulberry Grove Dance or the rhythm of the Ching-shou.

'Ah, how excellent!' said Lord Wen Hui. 'How has your skill become so superb?'

Cook Ting put down his knife and said, 'What your servant loves best is the Tao, which is better than any art. When I started to cut up oxen, what I saw was just a complex ox. After three years, I had learnt not to see the ox as whole. Now I practise with my mind, not with my eyes. I ignore my sense and follow my spirit. I see the natural lines and my knife slides through the great hollows, follows the great cavities, using that which is already there to my advantage. Thus, I miss the great sinews and even more so, the great bones. A good cook changes his knife annually, because he slices. An ordinary cook has to change his knife every month, because he hacks. Now this knife of mine I have been using for nineteen years, and it has cut thousands of oxen. However, its blade is as sharp as if it had just been sharpened. Between the joints there are spaces, and the blade of a knife has no real thickness. If you put what has no thickness into spaces such as these, there is plenty of room, certainly enough for the knife to work through. However, when I come to a difficult part and can see that it will be difficult, I take care and pay due regard. I look carefully and I move with caution. Then, very gently, I move the knife until there is a parting and the flesh falls apart like a lump of earth falling to the ground. I stand with the knife in my hand looking around and then, with an air of satisfaction, I wipe the knife and put it away.'

'Splendid!' said Lord Wen Hui. 'I have heard what cook Ting has to say and from his words I have learned how to live life fully.'

When Kung Wen Hsien saw the Commander of the Right he was surprised and said, 'Who is this man? Why has he only got one foot? Is this from Heaven or from man?'

'From Heaven, not from man,' said the Commander. 'My life came from Heaven, which also gave me just one foot. The human appearance is a gift, which is why I know that this is from Heaven, not from man. The marsh pheasant manages one peck every ten paces, and one drink every hundred steps, but it does not wish to be kept in a cage. Even if you treated it like a king, its spirit would not be happy.'

When Lao Tzu died, Chin Shih came to mourn for him. He uttered three shouts and then left.

A follower of the Master said, 'Wasn't the Master a friend of yours?'

'Certainly,' he replied.

'Then do you really think this way of mourning is best?'

'Certainly. To begin with I thought these were real men, but now I am not so sure. When I came in to mourn, there were old folk weeping as though they had lost a child; there were young people wailing as if for the loss of a mother. Such a gathering of everyone, all talking away though he didn't ask them to talk and weeping even though he didn't ask for tears! This is to turn from Heaven and to indulge in emotions, ignoring what is given. The ancient ones called this the result of violating the principles of Heaven. When the Master came, it was because he was due to be born. When he died, it was entirely natural. If you are prepared to accept this and flow with it, then sorrow and joy cannot touch you. The ancient ones considered this the work of the gods who free us from bondage.

'We can point to the wood that has been burned, but when the fire has passed on, we cannot know where it has gone.'

[...]

Yen Ho was about to start as tutor to the eldest son of Duke Ling of the state of Wei, so he went to visit Chu Po Yu and said, 'Here is a man whom Heaven has given a nature devoid of all virtue. If I simply allow him to go on in this way, the state is at risk; if I try to bring him back to a principled life, then my life is at risk. He can just about recognize the excesses of others, but not his own excesses. In a case like this, what can I do?'

'This is a good question!' said Chu Po Yu. 'Be on guard, be careful, make sure you yourself are right. Let your appearance be in agreement, let your heart be content and harmonious. However, both these strategies have their dangers. Do not let your outward stance affect your inner self, nor allow your inner self to be drawn out. If you allow yourself to be sucked into his way of things, you will be thrown down, ruined, demolished, and will fall. If your inner harmony becomes drawn out, then you will have fame and a name, you will be called an evil creature. If he acts like a child, then be a child with him; if he permits no restraints, do the same. If he goes beyond the pale, follow him! Understand him, and then guide him back subtly.

'Don't you know the story of the praying mantis? In its anger it waved its arms in front of a speeding carriage, having no understanding that it could not stop it, but having full confidence in its own powers! Be on guard, be careful! If you are over-confident in this way, you will be in the same danger.

'Don't you know what a tiger trainer does? He does not give them living animals for food, in case it over-excites them and breeds a love of killing. He does not even give them whole carcasses, for fear of exciting the rage of tearing the animals apart. He observes their appetite and appreciates their ferocity. Tigers are a different creature from humans, but you can train them to obey their trainer if you understand how to adapt to them. People who go against the nature of the tiger don't last long.

'People who love horses collect their manure and urine in fine baskets and bottles. However, if a mosquito or gadfly lands on the horse, and the groom suddenly swipes it away, the horse breaks its bit, damages its harness and hurts its chest. The groom, out of affection, tried to do what was good, but the end result is the reverse of that. Thus should we exercise caution!'

Carpenter Shih was on his way to Chi, when he came to the place called Chu Yuan, where he saw an oak tree which was venerated as the home of the spirits of the land. The tree was so vast that a thousand oxen could hide behind it. It was a hundred spans round and it soared above the hill to eighty feet before it even began to put out branches. There were ten such branches, from any one of which an entire boat could be carved. Masses of people came to see it, giving the place a carnival atmosphere, but carpenter Shih didn't even look round, just went on his way. His assistant looked at it with great intensity, and then chased after his master and said, 'Since I first took up my axe and followed you, I have never seen wood such as this. Sir, why did you not even glance at it nor stop, but just kept going?'

He said, 'Silence, not another word! The tree is useless. Make a boat from it and it would sink; make a coffin and it would rot quickly; make some furniture and it would fall to pieces; make a door and it would be covered in seeping sap; make a pillar and it would be worm-eaten. This wood is useless and good for nothing. This is why it has lived so long.'

When Master Shih was returning, the tree appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'What exactly are you comparing me with? With ornamental fruit trees? Trees such as the hawthorn, pear trees, orange trees, citrus trees, gourds and other such fruit trees? Their fruits are knocked down when they are ripe and the trees suffer. The big branches are damaged and the small ones are broken off. Because they are useful, they suffer, and they are unable to live out the years Heaven has given them. They have only their usefulness to blame for this destruction wrought by the people. It is the same with all things. I have spent a long time studying to be useless, though on a couple of occasions I was nearly destroyed. However, now I have perfected the art of uselessness, and this is very useful, to me! If I had been of use, could I have grown so vast? Furthermore, you and I are both things. How can one thing make such statements about another? How can you, a useless man about to die, know anything about a useless tree?'

When carpenter Shih awoke, he told his apprentice what he had dreamt. The apprentice said, 'If it wants to be useless, why is it used as the shrine for the spirits of the land?'

'Hush! Don't say another word!' said Shih. 'The tree happens to be here so it is an altar. By this it protects itself from harm from those who do not realize it is useless, for were it not an altar, it would run the risk of being chopped down. Furthermore, this tree is no ordinary one, so to speak of it in normal terms is to miss the point.'

Nan Po Tzu Chi, wandering amongst the mountains of Shang, came upon a great and unusual tree, under which could shelter a thousand chariots, and they would all be covered. Tzu Chi said, 'What kind of a tree is this? It is surely a most wondrous piece of timber!' However, when he looked up, he could see that the smaller branches were so twisted and gnarled that they could not be made into rafters and beams; and looking down at the trunk he saw it was warped and distorted and would not make good coffins. He licked one of its leaves and his mouth felt scraped and sore. He sniffed it and it nearly drove him mad, as if he had been drunk for three days.

'This tree is certainly good for nothing,' said Tzu Chi. 'This is why it has grown so large. Ah-ha! This is the sort of uselessness that sages live by.

'In the state of Sung there is the district of Ching Shih, which is excellent for growing catalpas, cypresses and mulberry trees. However, those which are more than a handspan or so around are cut down by people who want to make posts for their monkeys; those which are three or four spans around are cut down to make beams for great houses; those of seven to eight spans are cut down by lords and the wealthy who want single planks to form the side of their coffins. As a result, the trees do not live out the years Heaven has allotted them, but instead are cut down by the axe in the prime of their life. This is all the result of being useful! At the sacrifice, oxen marked by the white forehead, pigs that have turned-up noses and men suffering from piles are useless as offerings to the River Ho. Shamans know this and as a result they consider such creatures as being inauspicious. However, the sage, for exactly this same reason, values them highly.

'Crippled Shu, now, is a man with his chin lost in his navel, his shoulders higher than the top of his head and his topknot pointing to Heaven, his five vital organs all crushed into the top of his body and his two thighs pressing into his ribs. By sharpening needles and washing clothes he earns enough to eat. By winnowing rice and cleaning it he was able to feed ten people. When the officials called up the militia, he walked about freely, with no need to hide; when they are trying to raise a large work gang, because of his deformities, no one bothers him. Yet when the officials were handing out grain to the infirm, he received three great portions and ten bundles of firewood. If a man like this, deformed in body, can make a living and live out the years Heaven sends him, how much more should a man who is only deformed in terms of his Virtue!'

[...]

In the state of Lu there was a mutilated man called Shu Shan the Toeless. He came upon his stumps to see Confucius. Confucius said, 'You were not careful and therefore suffered this fate. It is too late to come and see me now.'

'Because of my lack of knowledge and through lack of care for my body, I lost my feet,' said Toeless. 'Now I have come to you because I still have that which is of greater value than my foot and I wish to save it. There is nothing that great Heaven does not cover, nor anything that the Earth does not sustain. I had hoped you, Sir, would be as Heaven and Earth to me, and I did not expect you to receive me like this!'

'I am being stupid!' said Confucius. 'Good Sir, please do not go away and I will try to share with you what I have learnt!'

However, Toeless left and Confucius said, 'Be watchful, my followers! Great Toeless has lost his feet but still he wants to learn in order to recompense for his evil deeds. How much more so should you who are ablebodied want to learn!'

Toeless told his story to Lao Tzu, saying, 'Confucius has definitely not become a perfect man yet, has he? So why does he try to study with you? He seems to be caught up with the search for honour and reputation, without appearing to understand that the perfect man sees these as chains and irons.'

Lao Tzu said, 'Why not help him to see that death and birth are one thing and that right and wrong are one thing, and so free him from the chains and irons?'

'Given that Heaven punishes him, how can he be set free?' asked Toeless.

Duke Ai of Lu said to Confucius, 'In Wei there was a man with a terrible appearance called Ai Tai To. But those around him thought the world of him and when women saw him they ran to their mothers and fathers saying, "I would rather be the concubine of this gentleman than anyone else's wife." This has happened more than ten times. He was never heard to take the lead in anything, but was always in accord with others. He was not powerful and thus able to save people from death, nor was he wealthy and able to feed people. Furthermore, he was so hideous he could scare the whole world. He never took the lead, just agreed with whatever was suggested, and he knew little about the world beyond his own four walls. But people came flocking to him. It is clear he is different from ordinary people, so I asked him to come and see me. He certainly was ugly enough to frighten the whole world. Yet he had only been with me for less than a month when I began to appreciate him. Within a year I had full trust in him. In my country there was no prime minister, so I offered him the post. His response to my request was to look most sorrowful and diffident as if he was going to turn it down. I was ashamed of myself but in the end simply handed over the country to him. Very soon after, he upped and left. I was distressed and felt this a great loss, for I had no one with whom to share the cares of the state. Now, what sort of man is this?'

Confucius said, 'I was once in the state of Chu on a commission, and I saw some piglets trying to suckle from their dead mother. After a while they started up and left her. She did not seem to notice them and so they no longer felt any affinity with her. What they loved about their mother was not her body but what gave life to the body. When a man is killed in battle, at his burial his battle honours are of little use to him. A man without feet has little love for shoes. In both cases they lack that which makes these of any significance. Indeed, the consorts of the Son of Heaven do not cut their own nails or pierce their ears; a newly wed gentleman stays outside the court and is freed from onerous duties. With so much attention being paid to caring for the body, imagine what care should be given to preserving Virtue! Now Ai Tai To speaks not a word, yet he is believed. He does nothing and is loved. People offer him their kingdoms, and their only fear is that he will refuse. He must indeed be a man of perfect character, whose Virtue is without shape!'

'What do you mean by "perfect character"?' asked Duke Ai.

Confucius replied, 'Death, birth, existence and trouble, auspicious and inauspicious signs, wealth, poverty, value and worthlessness, glory and blame, hunger and thirst, cold and hot-all these are the way the world goes and the result of destiny. Day and night follow each other, but there is no way of knowing where they come from. Don't allow this to disrupt your innate balance, don't allow this to perturb your mind. If you can balance and enjoy them, have mastery over them and revel in this, if you can do this day in and day out without a break and bring all things together, then this brings forth a heart prepared for changes and this is perfect character.'

'But what do you mean when you say his Virtue is without shape?'

'Perfect balance is found in still waters. Such water should be an example to us all. Inner harmony is protected and nothing external affects it. Virtue is the result of true balance. Virtue has no shape or form yet nothing can be without it,' said Confucius.

PART 3
So What is a True Man?

The one who understands Heaven and understands the ways of humanity has perfection. Understanding Heaven, he grows with Heaven. Understanding humanity, he takes the understanding of what he understands to help him understand what he doesn't understand, and so fulfils the years Heaven decrees without being cut off in his prime. This is known as perfection.

However, it is true that there are problems. Real understanding has to have something to which it is applied and this something is itself uncertain. So how can I know that what I term Heaven is not human? Or that what I call human is not Heaven?

Only the true man has understanding. So what is a true man? The true man of old did not fight against poverty, nor did he look for fulfilment through riches-for he had no grand plans. Therefore, he never regretted any failure, nor exulted in success. He could scale the heights without fear, plumb the depths without difficulties and go through fire without pain. This is the kind of person whose understanding has lifted him up towards the Tao.

The true man of old slept without dreaming and awoke without anxiety. He ate without tasting, breathing deeply, incredibly deeply. The true man breathes from his feet up, while ordinary people just breathe from the throat. The words of broken people come forth like vomit. Wallowing in lust and desire, they are but shallow in the ways of Heaven.

The true man of old did not hold on to life, nor did he fear death. He arrived without expectation and left without resistance. He went calmly, he came calmly and that was that. He did not set out to forget his origin, nor was he interested in what would become of him. He loved to receive anything but also forgot what he had received and gave it away. He did not give precedence to the heart but to the Tao, nor did he prefer the ways of humanity to those of Heaven. This is what is known as a true man.

Being like this, his heart forgets,
his appearance is calm,
his forehead is plain;

He is as chilly as autumn and as warming as spring.

His joy and anger arise like the four seasons.

He acts properly towards all things
and none know where this will lead.

So if the sage summons the army and conquers states,
he does not lose the affections of the people.

His magnanimous nature enriches ten thousand generations,
yet he has no affection for the people.

One who seeks to share his happiness with others is not a sage.

One who displays his feelings is not benevolent.

One who waits for Heaven is not a wise man.

The noble who cannot harmonize the good and the destructive is not a scholar.

One who seeks for fame and thereby loses his real self is no gentleman.

One who loses his true self and his path is unable to command others.

[...]

The true man of old appeared aloof but was in no danger of falling.

He appears deficient, yet takes nothing.

He does what he wills but is not judgemental.

His emptiness was clear, but there was no showing off.

Cheerfully smiling, he seemed to be content.

He responded immediately as if there was no choice.

If upset, he showed it.

If content, he was at ease with Virtue.

When calm, he appeared to be one with the world.

When superior, the world had no control over him.

His inner nature seemed unknowable.

Never being really aware, he forgot what to say.

He saw the law as the external form of government.

The rituals he saw as the wings,
knowledge as being the same as what is appropriate at the time.

Virtue he saw as what is proper.

Viewing law as the external form of government,
he was flexible in imposing the death sentence.

Viewing the rituals as the wings,
he got on well with society.

Viewing knowledge as being that which is appropriate,
he followed the natural course of events.

Viewing virtue as that which is proper,
he walked along with others who were capable of leading.

So he acted spontaneously,
but others thought it was at great cost.

Thus all that he sought was one.

What he disowned was also but one.

What is one is one, and what is not one is also one.

In the one, he was with Heaven.

In the not-one, he was one with humanity.

When heaven and humanity are not in dispute,
then we can say this is really the true man.

Death and birth are fixed. They are as certain as the dawn that comes after the night, established by the decree of Heaven. This is beyond the control of humanity, this is just how things are. Some view Heaven as their father and continue to love it. How much more should they show devotion for that which is even greater! Some people consider their lord as being better than themselves and would willingly die for him. How much more should they do the same for one who is more true than their lord!

When the springs dry out, the fish are found stranded on the earth. They keep each other damp with their own moisture, and wet each other with their slime. But it would be better if they could just forget about each other in rivers and lakes. People sing the praises of Yao and condemn Chieh, but it would be better if they could forget both of them and just follow the Tao. The cosmos gives me the burden of a physical form, makes life a struggle, gives me rest in old age and peace in death. What makes life good, therefore, also makes death good.

A boat can be hidden in a gorge, and a fishing net in a pool, and you may think they are therefore safe. However, in the middle of the night a strong man comes and carries them off. Small-minded people just cannot see that hiding smaller things in larger things does not mean they will not be stolen. If you take everything under Heaven and try to store it under Heaven, there is no space left for it to be lost in! This is the real truth about things. To have a human form is a joyful thing. But in the universe of possible forms, there are others just as good. Isn't it a blessing to have these uncountable possibilities! The sage goes where nothing escapes him, and rests contented there with them. He takes pleasure in an early death, in old age, in the origin and in the end and sees them all as equally good-he should be an example to others. If this is so, then how much more should our example be that which holds together the whole of life and which is the origin of all that changes!

The great Tao has both reality and expression, but it does nothing and has no form.

It can be passed on, but not received.

It can be obtained, but not seen.

It is rooted in its own self, existing before Heaven and Earth were born, indeed for eternity.

It gives divinity to the spirits and to the gods.

It brought to life Heaven and Earth.

It was before the primal air, yet it cannot be called lofty;
it was below all space and direction, yet it cannot be called deep.

It comes before either Heaven or Earth, yet it cannot be called old.

It is far more ancient than antiquity, yet it is not old.

[...]

The Masters, Ssu, Yu, Li and Lai, said one to another, 'Anyone who can conceive of nothingness as his head, life as his back and death as his tail and who knows that death and birth, being and no-being, are one and the same-one like this shall be our friend.' The four men smiled and agreed in their hearts and therefore became friends.

Shortly after, Master Yu fell ill. Master Ssu went to visit him and Yu said, 'How great is the Maker of All! He has made me deformed. My back is like a hunchback's, and all my organs are on top while my chin is lost in my navel and my shoulders rise up above my head and my topknot points to Heaven!' His yin and yang were in disarray. However, his heart was calm and he was not worried. He limped to a well and looked in at his reflection and said, 'Goodness me! The Maker of All has made me completely deformed!'

'Do you dislike it?' asked Master Ssu.

'Not really, why should I? For example, perhaps my left arm will become a cockerel and then I shall be able to tell the time at night. Maybe, eventually, my right arm will become a crossbow and then I can hunt a bird and eat it. Possibly my bottom will become wheels and my soul will be a horse which I shall climb upon and go for a ride. After all, I wouldn't then need any other vehicle again! I obtained life because the time was right. I will lose life because it is time. Those who go quietly with the flow of nature are not worried by either joy or sorrow. People like these were considered in the past as having achieved freedom from bondage. Those who cannot free themselves are constrained by things. However, nothing can overcome Heaven-it has always been so. So why should I dislike this?'

Later Master Lai fell ill. Gasping and heaving, he lay close to death. His wife and children were mourning around him. Master Li came to see him and Master Lai said, 'Hush, get out! Do you want to disrupt the processes of change?'

Leaning against the doorway Li commented,

'How great is the Maker of All!

What will you be made into next?

Where will you be sent?

Will you come back as a rat's liver?

Or will it be as a pest's arm?'

Master Lai said,

'When a mother and father tell a child to go somewhere,
be that east, west, south or north, the child obeys.

Yin and yang are the mother and father of humanity.

They have brought me close to death
and if I disobey this would be just perversity.

My death is not their problem!

The cosmos gives me form, brings me to birth,
guides me into old age and settles me in death.

If I think my life good, then I must think my death good.

A good craftsman, casting metal,
would not be too pleased with metal that jumped up and said,

"I must be made into a sword like Mo Yeh."

Now, given that I have been bold enough
to take on human shape already, if I then said,

"I must be a human, I must be a human!",
the Maker of All would view me somewhat askance!

If Heaven and Earth are like a furnace and Nature is the craftsman,
then is it possible he could send me anywhere that was not appropriate?

Peacefully we die, calmly we awake.'

PART 4
Simply Fate!

Masters Yu and Sang were friends. It happened to rain for ten days, and Master Yu said, 'Master Sang may be in trouble!' So he packed some food to take to him. Arriving at Master Sang's door he heard strange noises and someone playing a lute, singing,

'Oh Father! Oh Mother! Oh Heaven! Oh humanity!'

It sounded as if the singer's voice was about to break and the singer was rushing to finish the verse. Master Yu entered and said, 'Master, why are you singing like this?'

He said, 'I was trying to work out what has reduced me to this. My father and mother wouldn't want me to be so poor, surely? Heaven treats all alike. Earth supports all alike. Heaven and Earth wouldn't wish me poor, would they? I seek to know who has done this, but I can't find an answer. When you come down to it, it must be simply fate.'

[...]

Tien Ken was travelling to the south of Yin Mountain. He reached the river Liao, where he met the Man without a Name and said to him, 'I wish to ask you about governing everything under Heaven.'

The Man without a Name said, 'Get lost, you stupid lout! What an unpleasant question! I am travelling with the Maker of All. If that is too tiring, I shall ride the bird of ease and emptiness and go beyond the compass of the world and wander in the land of nowhere and the region of nothing. So why are you disturbing me and unsettling my heart with questions about how to rule all below Heaven?'

Tien Ken asked the same question again. The Man without a Name replied.

'Let your heart journey in simplicity.

Be one with that which is beyond definition.

Let things be what they are.

Have no personal views.

This is how everything under Heaven is ruled.'

Yan Tzu Chu went to visit Lao Tzu and he said, 'Here is a man who is keen and vigilant, who has clarity of vision and wisdom and who studies the Tao without ceasing. Such a person as this is surely a king of great wisdom?'

'In comparison to the sage,' said Lao Tzu, 'someone like this is just a humble servant, tied to his work, exhausting himself and distressing his heart. The tiger and the leopard, it is said, are hunted because of the beauty of their hides. The monkey and the dog end up in chains because of their skills. Can these be compared to a king of great wisdom?'

Yang Tzu Chu was startled and said, 'May I be so bold as to ask about the rule of a king who is great in wisdom?'

Lao Tzu said,

'The rule of a king who is great in wisdom!

His works affect all under Heaven, yet he seems to do nothing.

His authority reaches all life, yet no one relies upon him.

There is no fame or glory for him but everything fulfils itself.

He stands upon mystery and wanders where there is nothing.'

In Chen there was a shaman of the spirits called Chi Hsien. He could foretell when people would die and be born; he knew about good fortune and failure as granted by Heaven; he knew about happiness and distress, life and its span, knowing the year, month, week and day, as if he were a god himself. As soon as the people of Cheng saw him coming, they would run away. Lieh Tzu went to see him and was fascinated by him. Coming back to Hu Tzu, he said, 'I used to believe, Master, that your Tao was perfection. Now I have found something even better.'

Hu Tzu said, 'What I have shown you is the outward text of my teaching, but not what is central. How can you think you have grasped my Tao? If you have hens but no cockerel, how can you have eggs? You flaunt your Tao before the world. This is why this man can read your fortune. Bring this shaman to me and let us meet.'

The next day Lieh Tzu brought the shaman to visit Hu Tzu. And as he left Hu Tzu's house with Lieh Tzu, the shaman said, 'Oh dear! Your Master is dying. There's virtually no life left-he has maybe a week at most. I saw a strange sight - it was like wet ashes!'

Lieh Tzu went in again, weeping so copiously that tears soaked his coat, and told Hu Tzu what had been said. Hu Tzu said, 'I made myself appear like the earth. I was as solid as the mountain, showing nothing to him. He probably perceived me to be a closed book, apparently without virtue. Bring him again if you can.'

The next day Lieh Tzu came again with the shaman to see Hu Tzu. As they went out, the shaman said to Lieh Tzu, 'How lucky for your Master that he has met me. He is getting better. Indeed he is truly alive. Life is flowing again.'

Lieh Tzu went back in and commented on this to Hu Tzu. Hu Tzu said, 'I made myself appear to him like Heaven, without fame or fortune on my mind. What I am wells up in me naturally. He saw in me the full and natural workings of life. Bring him again if you can.'

The next day they came again to see Hu Tzu. As they went out, the shaman said to Lieh Tzu, 'Your Master is never the same. I cannot grasp the fortune shown in his face. If he returns to some constancy then I will come and see him again.'

Lieh Tzu went back in and reported this to Hu Tzu. 'I showed him myself as the great Void where all is equal,' said Hu Tzu. 'He almost certainly saw in me the harmony of my innate forces. When water moves about, there is a whirlpool; where the waters are calm, there is a whirlpool; where the waters gather, there is a whirlpool. There are nine types of whirlpool and I have shown him just three. Bring him back again if you can.'

The next day they both came again to see him. However, before he had even sat down, the shaman panicked and ran off. Hu Tzu said, 'Follow him!'

Lieh Tzu ran after him. But he could not catch up with him. Coming back to Hu Tzu, he said, 'He has gone, I've lost him. I couldn't catch him.'

Hu Tzu said, 'I just appeared to him as hitherto unrevealed potential. I presented myself as not knowing who is who, nor what is what. I came flowing and changing as I willed. That's why he bolted.'

As a result of this, Lieh Tzu realized that he had so far learnt nothing real, so he returned home. For three years he did not go out. He cooked for his wife and tended the pigs as if they were humans. He showed no interest in his studies. He cast aside his desires and sought the truth. In his body he became like the ground itself. In the midst of everything he remained enclosed with the One and that is how he remained until the end.

Do not hanker for fame.

Do not make plans.

Do not try to do things.

Do not try to master knowledge.

Hold what is but do not hold it to be anything.

Work with all that comes from Heaven, but do not seek to hold it.

Just be empty.

The perfect man's heart is like a mirror.

It does not search after things.

It does not look for things.

It does not seek knowledge, just responds.

As a result he can handle everything and is not harmed by anything.

[...]

One on the true path does not lose his innate given nature.

To such a man that which is united presents no problem;

That which is divided is all right;

What is long is not too long;

That which is short is not too short.

The duck's legs for example are short, but trying to lengthen them would cause pain.

The legs of a crane are long, but trying to shorten them would produce grief.

What nature makes long we should not cut,
nor should we try to stretch what nature makes short.

That would not solve anything.

Perhaps then, benevolence and righteousness are not an inherent part of human nature? For look how much anxiety is suffered by those who wish to be kind.

PART 5
Hui Tzu

Hui Tzu spoke to Chuang Tzu, saying, 'The King of Wei gave me the seeds of an enormous gourd, which I planted and it produced a fruit big enough to hold five bushels of anything, so I used it to hold water, but it was then too heavy to pick up. I cut it into two to make scoops, but they were too awkward to use. It was not that they weren't big, I just found I could not make use of them, so I destroyed them.'

Chuang Tzu said, 'Dear Sir, surely the problem is that you don't know how to use big things. There is a man in Sung who could make a cream which prevented the hands from getting chapped, and generation after generation of his family have made a living by bleaching silk. A pilgrim heard this and offered to buy the secret for a hundred pieces of gold. All the family came together to respond and said, "For generation after generation we have bleached silk, yet we have never made more than a few pieces of gold; now in just one morning we can earn a hundred pieces of gold! Let's do it." So the pilgrim got the secret and went to see the King of Wu. He was struggling with the state of Yueh. The King of Wu gave the pilgrim command of the army and in the depths of winter they fought the men of Yueh on the water, inflicting a crushing blow on the forces of Yueh, and the traveller was rewarded by the gift of a vast estate from the conquered territory. The cream had stopped the hands chapping in both cases: one gained an estate, but the others had never got further than bleaching silk, because they used this secret in such different ways. Now, Sir, you have a gourd big enough to hold five bushels, so why didn't you use it to make big bottles which could help you float down the rivers and lakes, instead of dismissing it as being useless? Because, dear Sir, your head is full of straw!'

Hui Tzu spoke to Chuang Tzu, saying, 'I have a big tree, which people call useless. Its trunk is so knotted, no carpenter could work on it, while its branches are too twisted to use a square or compass upon. So, although it is close to the road, no carpenter would look at it. Now, Sir, your words are like this, too big and no use, therefore everyone ignores them.'

Chuang Tzu said, 'Sir, have you never seen a wild cat or weasel? It lies there, crouching and waiting; east and west it leaps out, not afraid of going high or low; until it is caught in a trap and dies in a net. Yet again, there is the yak, vast like a cloud in heaven. It is big, but cannot use this fact to catch rats. Now you, Sir, have a large tree, and you don't know how to use it, so why not plant it in the middle of nowhere, where you can go to wander or fall asleep under its shade? No axe under Heaven will attack it, nor shorten its days, for something which is useless will never be disturbed.'

[...]

Hui Tzu asked Chuang Tzu, 'Is it possible for someone to be without emotion?'

'Certainly,' said Chuang Tzu.

'A man without emotion-can you really call him a man?' asked Hui Tzu.

Chuang Tzu replied, 'The Way gives him a face and Heaven provides a shape, so how can it follow he is not called a man?'

'But if he is already called a man, how can it follow that he has no emotion?'

'That's not what I mean by emotions,' said Chuang Tzu. 'When I say a man has no emotions, what I mean by this is someone who does not allow either the good or the bad to have any effect upon him. He lets all things be and allows life to continue in its own way.'

Hui Tzu said, 'If he doesn't interfere with life, then how does he take care of himself?'

'The Way gives him a face and Heaven provides a shape. He does not allow either the good or the bad to have any effect on him. But you now, you wear your soul on your sleeve, exhausting your energy, propping yourself up on a tree, mumbling, or bent over your desk, asleep. Heaven gives you a form and you wear it out by pointless argument!'

[...]

Hui Tzu was made Minister of State in Liang and Chuang Tzu went to see him. Someone told Hui Tzu, 'Chuang Tzu is coming, because he wants to oust you from your office.' This alarmed Hui Tzu and he scoured the kingdom for three days and nights trying to find this stranger.

Chuang Tzu went to see him and said, 'In the south there is a bird known as the Young Phoenix, do you know about this, Sir? This bird, it arises in the Southern Ocean and flies to the Northern Ocean and it never rests on anything except the begonia tree, never eats except the fruit of the melia azederach and never drinks except from springs of sweet water. There was once an owl who had clutched in his talons a rotting rat corpse. As the Young Phoenix flew overhead the owl looked up and said, "Shoo!" Now you, Sir, you have the state of Liang and you feel you have to shoo me away?'

Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu were walking beside the weir on the River Hao, when Chuang Tzu said, 'Do you see how the fish are coming to the surface and swimming around as they please? That's what fish really enjoy.'

'You're not a fish,' replied Hui Tzu, 'so how can you say you know what fish enjoy?'

Chuang Tzu said: 'You are not me, so how can you know I don't know what fish enjoy?'

Hui Tzu said: 'I am not you, so I definitely don't know what it is you know. However, you are most definitely not a fish and that proves that you don't know what fish really enjoy.'

Chuang Tzu said: 'Ah, but let's return to the original question you raised, if you don't mind. You asked me how I could know what it is that fish really enjoy. Therefore, you already knew I knew it when you asked the question. And I know it by being here on the edge of the River Hao.'

[...]

Chuang Tzu's wife died and Hui Tzu came to console him, but Chuang Tzu was sitting, legs akimbo, bashing a battered tub and singing.

Hui Tzu said, 'You lived as man and wife, she reared your children. At her death surely the least you should be doing is to be on the verge of weeping, rather than banging the tub and singing: this is not right!'

Chuang Tzu said, 'Certainly not. When she first died, I certainly mourned just like everyone else! However, I then thought back to her birth and to the very roots of her being, before she was born. Indeed, not just before she was born but before the time when her body was created. Not just before her body was created but before the very origin of her life's breath. Out of all this, through the wonderful mystery of change she was given her life's breath. Her life's breath wrought a transformation and she had a body. Her body wrought a transformation and she was born. Now there is yet another transformation and she is dead. She is like the four seasons in the way that spring, summer, autumn and winter follow each other. She is now at peace, lying in her chamber, but if I were to sob and cry it would certainly appear that I could not comprehend the ways of destiny. This is why I stopped.'

[...]

Chuang Tzu said, 'An archer, not bothering to take aim, by sheer luck hits the centre of the target. We could call him a good archer, but in that case, everyone in the world could be called a Yi the Archer, isn't that right?'

'OK,' said Hui Tzu.

Chuang Tzu said, 'People differ over what they consider to be right, but everyone knows what they think is right. So everyone in the world could be called a Yao, isn't that right?'

'OK,' said Hui Tzu.

Chuang Tzu said, 'So, there are four schools-the Literati, Mohists, Yangists and Pingists-which along with your own, Sir, make five. So which of these is right? Perhaps it is more like the case of Lu Chu? One of his followers said, "I have taken hold of your Tao, Master, and I can heat the pot in winter and make ice in summer." Lu Chu said, "But this is surely just using yang for yang and yin for yin. This is not what I would call the Tao. I will show you my Tao." So he tuned up two lutes and put one in the hall and the other in a private apartment. On striking the note Kung on one, the Kung note vibrated on the other. Likewise with the Chueh note, for the instruments were in harmony. Then he re-tuned one so that it was not in harmony with any of the five key notes. When this was played, all twenty-five of the strings on the other one vibrated, all faithful to their own note and all set off by the one note on the other lute. So, if you insist you are right, aren't you like this?'

Hui Tzi replied, 'The followers of Confucius, Mo, Yang and Ping, like to tackle me in debate, each one trying to defeat the other, each violently trying to shout me down with their various arguments-but they haven't succeeded yet. So what about that?'

Chuang Tzu said, 'A citizen of Chi, not concerned by any mutilation, sold his son to someone in Sung, where he became a gatekeeper. Yet this same man would go to great lengths to protect any of his bells or chimes. But he would not go looking for his son beyond the borders of his own country, such was his understanding of what is worthwhile! Or what if that well-known character, the citizen of Chu who was maimed and a gatekeeper, at midnight in another country, were to pick a fight with a boatman? Then he would never get across the river and would only have provoked the boatman's anger.'

[...]

Hui Tzu argued with Chuang Tzu and said, 'What you say is useless!'

'You have to understand what is useless, then you can talk about what is useful,' said Chuang Tzu. 'Heaven and Earth are vast indeed and yet human beings only use the tiny part of the universe on which they tread. However, if you dug away beneath your feet until you came to the Yellow Springs, could anyone make use of this?'

'Useless,' said Hui Tzu.

'So indeed it is true that what is useless is clearly useful,' said Chuang Tzu.

Chuang Tzu continued, 'If someone has the itch to travel, what can stop him? But if someone does not wish to travel, then what can make him? The one who hides in conformity or the one who is distant and seeks oblivion, both fail to achieve perfect understanding and Virtue! They stumble and fall but do not recover. They crash ahead like fire and never look back. Even if they are a ruler with ministers, this too passes. These titles change with each generation and neither is better than the other. It is said that the perfect man leaves no trace of his actions.

'To respect the past and despise the present, this is what scholars do. Even the followers of Chi Hsi Wei, who view this generation in that way, are swept along without choice. Only the perfect man is able to be in the world and not become partisan, can follow others and not get lost. He does not absorb their teachings, he just listens and understands without any commitment.

'The eye that is penetrating can see clearly;
the ear that is acute hears well;
the nose that discriminates distinguishes smells;
the mouth with a keen sense of taste enjoys the flavours;
the heart that feels deeply has wisdom
and the wisdom that cuts to the quick is Virtue.

'Through all that is, the Tao will not be blocked, for if it is blocked, it gasps, and if it gasps, chaos breaks through. Chaos destroys the life in all. Everything that lives does so through breath. However, if breath will not come, this cannot be blamed on Heaven. Heaven seeks to course breath through the body day in and day out without ceasing: it is humanity which impedes this. The womb has its chambers and the heart has its Heavenly journey. However, if rooms are not large enough, then mother-in-law and wife will argue. If the heart does not wander in Heaven, then the six openings of sensation will compete with each other. The great forests, the hills and mountains surpass humanity in their spirit because they cannot be overcome.

'Virtue overflows into fame and desire for fame overflows into excess. Plans arise from a crisis and knowledge comes through argument. Obstinacy fuels resolution and official actions arise from the desires of all. When spring comes, the rains come along with the sunshine, the plants surge into life and harvesting tools are made ready again. Half of all that has fallen begins to sprout, and no one knows why for sure.

'Quietude and silence are healing for those who are ill;
massage is beneficial to the old;
peaceful contemplation can calm the distressed.

To be sure, it is only the disturbed person who needs these.

Someone who is at ease and is untroubled by such things has no need of this.

The sage reforms everything below Heaven, but the spiritual man does not enquire how.

The worthy person improves his generation, but the sage does not enquire how.

The ruler governs the country, but the worthy person does not enquire how.

The petty man makes do in these times, but the ruler does not enquire how.

'The gatekeeper of Yen Gate had a father who died and the gatekeeper was praised for the extremities of self-deprivation he inflicted on himself, and was honoured by the title of Model Officer. Some others in the area also underwent such extremities, and half of them died. Yao offered the country to Hsu Yu and Hsu Yu fled from him. Tang offered the kingdom to Wu Kuang and Wu Kuang became angry. Chi To heard this and retreated with his followers to the waters of the Kuan, where the local nobles came and commiserated with him for three years. For the same reason, Shen Tu Ti threw himself into the Yellow River. A fish trap is used to catch fish, but once the fish have been taken, the trap is forgotten. The rabbit trap is used to snare rabbits, but once the rabbit is captured, the trap is ignored. Words are used to express concepts, but once you have grasped the concepts, the words are forgotten. I would like to find someone who has forgotten the words so I could debate with such a person!'

[...]

Chuang Tzu was following a funeral when he passed by the grave of Hui Tzu. He looked round at those following him and said, 'The man of Ying had on the end of his nose a piece of mud as small as a fly's wing. He sent for the craftsman Shih to cut it off. Shih swirled his axe around and swept it down, creating such a wind as it rushed past that it removed all trace of the mud from the man of Ying, who stood firm, not at all worried. The ruler Yuan of Sung heard of this and called craftsman Shih to visit him.

"Would you be so kind as to do this for me?" he said.

'Craftsman Shih replied, "Your servant was indeed once able to work like that, but the type of material I worked upon is long since dead."

'Since the Master has died, I have not had any suitable material to work upon. I have no one I can talk with any longer.'

PART 6
Horses' Hooves

Horses have hooves so that their feet can grip on frost and snow, and hair so that they can withstand the wind and cold. They eat grass and drink water, they buck and gallop, for this is the innate nature of horses. Even if they had great towers and magnificent halls, they would not be interested in them. However, when Po Lo came on the scene, he said, 'I know how to train horses.' He branded them, cut their hair and their hooves, put halters on their heads, bridled them, hobbled them and shut them up in stables. Out of ten horses at least two or three die. Then he makes them hungry and thirsty, gallops them, races them, parades them, runs them together. He keeps before them the fear of the bit and ropes, behind them the fear of the whip and crop. Now more than half the horses are dead.

The potter said, 'I know how to use clay, how to mould it into rounds like the compass and into squares as though I had used a T-square.' The carpenter said, 'I know how to use wood: to make it bend, I use the template; to make it straight, I use the plumb line.' However, is it really the innate nature of clay and wood to be moulded by compass and T-square, template and plumb line? It is true, nevertheless, that generation after generation has said, 'Po Lo is good at controlling horses, and indeed the potter and carpenter are good with clay and wood.' And the same nonsense is spouted by those who rule the world.

I think that someone who truly knows how to rule the world would not be like this. The people have a true nature, they weave their cloth, they farm to produce food. This is their basic Virtue. They are all one in this, not separated, and it is from Heaven. Thus, in an age of perfect Virtue the people walk slowly and solemnly. They see straight and true. In times such as these the mountains have neither paths nor tunnels, on the lakes there are neither boats nor bridges; all life lives with its own kind, living close together. The birds and beasts multiply in their flocks and herds, the grass and trees grow tall. It is true that at such a time the birds and beasts can be led around without ropes, and birds' nests can be seen with ease.

In this time of perfect Virtue, people live side by side with the birds and beasts, sharing the world in common with all life. No one knows of distinctions such as nobles and the peasantry! Totally without wisdom but with virtue which does not disappear; totally without desire they are known as truly simple. If people are truly simple, they can follow their true nature. Then the perfect sage comes, going on about benevolence, straining for selfrighteousness, and suddenly everyone begins to have doubts. They start to fuss over the music, cutting and trimming the rituals, and thus the whole world is disturbed. If the pure essence had not been so cut about, how could they have otherwise ended up with sacrificial bowls? If the raw jade was not broken apart, how could the symbols of power be made? If the Tao and Te-Way and Virtue-had not been ignored, how could benevolence and righteousness have been preferred? If innate nature had not been left behind, how could rituals and music have been invented? If the five colours had not been confused, how could patterns and designs have occurred? If the five notes had not been confused, how could they have been supplanted by the six tones? The abuse of the true elements to make artefacts was the crime of the craftsman. The abuse of the Tao and TeWay and Virtue-to make benevolence and righteousness, this was the error of the sage.

Horses, when they live wild, eat grass and drink water; when they are content, they entwine their necks and rub each other. When angry, they turn their backs on each other and kick out. This is what horses know. But if harnessed together and lined up under constraints, they know to look sideways and to arch their necks, to career around and try to spit out the bit and rid themselves of the reins. The knowledge thus gained by the horse, and its wicked behaviour, is in fact the fault of Po Lo.

PART 7
What's the Point of a Great
Deal of Knowledge?

A great deal of knowledge is needed to make bows, crossbows, nets, arrows and so forth, but the result is that the birds fly higher in distress. A great deal of knowledge is needed to make fishing lines, traps, baits and hooks, but the result is that the fish disperse in distress in the water. A great deal of knowledge is needed to make traps, snares and nets, but the result is that the animals are disturbed and seek refuge in marshy lands. In the same way, the versatility needed to produce rhetoric, to plot and scheme, spread rumours and debate pointlessly, to dust off arguments and seek apparent agreement, is also considerable, but the result is that the people are confused. So everything under Heaven is in a state of distress, all because of the pursuit of knowledge. Everything in the world knows how to seek for knowledge that they do not have, but do not know how to find what they already know. Everything in the world knows how to condemn what they dislike, but do not know how to condemn what they have which is wrong. This is what causes such immense confusion. It is as if the brightness of the sun and moon had been eclipsed above, while down below the hills and streams have lost their power, as though the natural flow of the four seasons had been broken. There is no humble insect, not even any plant, that has not lost its innate nature. This is the consequence for the world of seeking after knowledge. From the Three Dynasties down to the present day it has been like this. The good and honest people are ignored, while spineless flatterers are advanced. The quiet and calm of actionless action is cast aside and pleasure is taken in argument. It is this nonsense which has caused such confusion for everything under Heaven.

[...]

Are people too cheerful? If so, they harm the yang. Are people too vengeful? If so, they harm the yin. If both yin and yang are corrupted, then the four seasons will not follow each other, the balance of hot and cold will not be kept and this results in distress to the very bodies of the people! People will be unable to control a balance between joy and anger. It makes them restless, moving here, moving there, plotting to no purpose, travelling for no good reason or result. The consequence of this is that the world becomes concerned with mighty goals and plots, ambition and hatred, which brings in its wake the likes of Robber Chih, Tseng and Shih. As a result, the world may wish to reward the good, but there are not enough rewards available; nor can it adequately punish the bad, for there are not enough punishments.

[...]

So it is that the noble master who finds he has to follow some course to govern the world will realize that actionless action is the best course. By non-action, he can rest in the real substance of his nature and destiny. If he appreciates his own body as he appreciates the world, then the world can be placed in his care. He who loves his body as he loves the world can be trusted to govern the world. If the noble master can prevent his five main organs from being destroyed, and his vision and hearing also; if he can become as lifeless as a corpse and develop his dragon powers; if he can thus still himself, his words will sound like thunder while his actions will be seen as the actions of a spirit from Heaven, who is guided by Heaven. If he is unconcerned and engaged in actionless action, his gentle spirit will draw all life to him like a dust cloud. How then would such a person have time for governing the world?

[...]

Yun Chiang was travelling east, carried along upon the wings of a whirlwind. Suddenly he met Hung Mung, who was jumping around, slapping his thighs and hopping like a bird. Yun Chiang saw this and stopped dead, standing still in respect, and said, 'Elderly man, who are you? What are you doing?'

Hung Mung continued to slap his thighs and hop like a bird, then replied, 'Enjoying myself!'

Yun Chiang said, 'I would like to ask a question.'

Hung Mung looked at Yun Chiang and said, 'That's a shame!'

Yun Chiang said, 'The very breath of Heaven is no longer in harmony. Earth's very breath is ensnared, the six breaths do not mix, the four seasons do not follow each other. Now I want to combine the six breaths in order to bring life to all things. How do I do this?'

Hung Mung slapped his thighs, hopped around and said, 'I don't know, I don't know!'

Yun Chiang could go no further with this questioning. But three years later, travelling east, he passed the wilderness of Sung and came upon Hung Mung again. Yun Chiang, very pleased, rushed towards him, stood before him and said, 'Heaven, have you forgotten me? Heaven, have you forgotten me?' Bowing his head twice, he asked for teaching from Hung Mung.

Hung Mung said, 'Wandering everywhere, without a clue why. Wildly impulsive, without a clue where. I wander around in this odd fashion, I see that nothing comes without reason. What can I know?'

Yun Chiang replied, 'I am also wildly impulsive, but the people follow me wherever I am. I cannot stop them following me. Now, because they follow me, I want to have a word of teaching from you.'

'The disruption of the ways of Heaven distresses the true being of things, halting the fulfilment of Heaven's Mysteries,' said Hung Mung. 'This causes the animals to disperse, the birds to sing throughout the night, misfortune to hit the crops and the woods, and disaster to blight the very insects themselves. Alas, all this is caused by the people's error of thinking they know how to rule!'

'What should I do then?' said Yun Chiang.

'Oh, you distress them! Like a spirit, a spirit I will dance away,' said Hung Mung.

'I have had such trouble meeting you,' said Yun Chiang. 'Oh Heaven, just give me one other word.'

'Oh ho!' said Hung Mung. 'Strengthen your heart. Remain sure in actionless action, and all things will then transform themselves. Reject your body, throw out hearing and eyesight, forget that you are anyone, become one with the Vast and the Void. Loosen the heart, free the spirit, be calm as if without a soul. All living things return to their root, return to their root, not knowing why. Constantly in darkness, constantly in darkness, and throughout their physical existence they never depart from this. If they tried to understand this, they would depart from this. Ask not for its name, seek not for its shape. So all life comes to birth through itself.'

Yun Chiang replied, 'Heaven, you have honoured me with this Virtue, taught me through Mystery; my whole life I sought it, now I have it.' He bowed his head twice and got up. He said farewell and left.

PART 8
The Action of Non-action
is Called Heaven

So the sages contemplate Heaven but do not assist it.

They are concerned to perfect their Virtue but do not allow it to encumber them.

They set forth according to the Tao but do not make plans.

They work with benevolence but put no reliance upon it.

They draw extensively upon righteousness but do not try to build it up.

They observe the rituals but do not set great store by them.

They do what they have to and never shirk their responsibilities.

They try to make their laws applicable but do not believe them effective.

They value the people and do not take them for granted.

They make use of things and do not dismiss them lightly.

True, things are worthless but they must be used.

Those who do not see Heaven clearly will not be pure in Virtue.

Those who fail to follow the Tao cannot follow any other path.

What a disaster for those who cannot follow the Tao!

What is this Tao?

There is the Tao of Heaven;
there is the Tao of humanity.

Non-action brings respect: this is Heaven's Tao.

To be active is the Tao of humanity.

It is Heaven's Tao that is the ruler;
the Tao of humanity is the servant.

The Tao of Heaven and the Tao of humanity are poles apart.

Do not fail to reflect upon this.

[...]

Heaven and Earth are vast,
and their diversity comes from one source.

Although there are ten thousand forms of life,
they are one in their order.

Human beings are multitudinous,
but they are governed by one ruler.

The ruler is rooted in Virtue and perfected by Heaven.

It is said that long ago
the rulers of everything below Heaven
ruled through actionless action,
through Heavenly Virtue and nothing else.

[...]

The action of non-action is called Heaven.

The words of non-action are called Virtue.

To love all humanity and to bring success to them is called benevolence.

To unite that which is not united is called greatness.

To go beyond harriers and boundaries is called open-handedness.

To have a vast multitude of diverse things is called wealth.

To have and to hold Virtue is called guidance.

To grow in maturity in Virtue is called stability

To be aligned with the Tao is called completion.

To refuse to allow anything external which distracts you is called perfection.

The nobleman who clearly perceives these ten things will be also magnanimous in his ventures and his actions will benefit all life.

Such a man will leave the gold in the mountain
and the pearls to lie in the deep.

He does not view money and goods as true profit,
nor is he attracted by fame and fortune,
nor by enjoyment of long life,
nor sadness at an early death;
he does not value wealth as a blessing,
nor is he ashamed by poverty.

He will not lust for the wealth of a generation to have as his own;
he has no wish to rule the whole world as his private domain.

His honour is clarity of understanding that all life is part of one treasury
and that death and birth are united.

The Sage Master said,

'The Tao, how deep and quiet it lies;
how pure is its clarity!

Without it neither gold nor stone would resonate.

The gold and stones have sounds within them
but if they are not struck, then no sound comes forth.

All the multitudinous creatures have dimensions beyond calculation!

[...]

'The way sages rule?' said Chun Mang. 'Only appoint those who are fit for the office; make appointments in accordance with the worthiness of those appointed; act only after studying the situation thoroughly. When deeds and words are in accord, the whole world is transformed. Consequently, a wave of the hand or a sharp look will bring the peoples of all the world rushing to you. This is the way sages rule.'

'Can I ask about the Virtuous ones?'

'The Virtuous one is still and without thought:

when he moves he is without design;
he keeps no tally of right and wrong, good or bad.

Virtuous ones share their gains with all within the four seas
and from this they derive pleasure.

They share what they have and are content.

Mournful, they are like a child who has lost his mother;
uncertain, they are like travellers who are lost.

Though blessed with great wealth and comforts,
they have no idea where it comes from;
they have more than enough to eat and drink,
but have no idea where it comes from.

This is the style of Virtuous ones.'

'What about the spiritual ones?'

Chun Mang said,

'Their spirits rise up to the brightest light
and their bodies disappear.

They are gloriously enraptured.

They live out their fate,

The spiritual one pursues to its end what is truly him
and dwells in the delight of Heaven and Earth
while his multitudinous cares fall away.

All things return to their true nature.

This is called Primal Mystery'

[...]

It is Heaven's Tao to journey and to gather no moss,
thus all the forms of life are brought to perfection.

It is the Emperor's Tao to journey and to gather no moss,
which is why the whole world comes to his feet.

It is the sages' Tao to journey and to gather no moss,
thus all that lies within the oceans venerates them.

To understand Heaven clearly,
to comprehend the sages,
to journey through the entire cosmos
following the Virtue of the Emperors and the kings
but also to be spontaneous themselves:

this is the nature of those who comprehend,
seeming not to know
but being centred in stillness.

The sages are quiescent, not because of any value in being quiescent, they simply are still. Not even the multitude of beings can disturb them, so they are calm. Water, when it is still, reflects back even your eyebrows and beard. It is perfectly level and from this the carpenter takes his level. If water stilled offers such clarity, imagine what pure spirit offers! The sage's heart is stilled! Heaven and Earth are reflected in it, the mirror of all life. Empty, still, calm, plain, quiet, silent, non-active, this is the centredness of Heaven and Earth and of the Tao and of Virtue. The Emperor, king, and sages rest there. Resting, they are empty; empty, they can be full; fullness is fulfilment. From the empty comes stillness; in stillness they can travel; in travelling they achieve. In stillness they take actionless action. Through actionless action they expect results from those with responsibilities. Through actionless action they are happy, very happy; being so happy they are not afflicted by cares and worries, for these have no place, and their years of life are prolonged. Empty, still, calm, plain, quiet, silent, actionless action is the foundation of all life. If you are clear on this and facing south, it means you are a noble like Yao; if you are clear on this and facing north, you will become a minister like Shun.

[...]

Chuang Tzu said,

'My Master Teacher! My Master Teacher!

He judges all life but does not feel he is being judgemental;
he is generous to multitudes of generations
but does not think this benevolent;
he is older than the oldest
but he does not think himself old;
he overarches Heaven and sustains Earth,
shaping and creating endless bodies
but he does not think himself skilful.

This is what is known as Heavenly happiness.

'There is a saying: "If you know the happiness of Heaven, then you know that life is from Heaven and death is the transformation of things. In their stillness they are yin and in their journeying they are yang." To know Heavenly happiness means that you do not upset Heaven, nor go against others. You are not reliant on material things, you are not rebuked by the ghosts. There is a saying: "He moves with Heaven and rests with Earth, his heart is one, he is the king of the whole world; the ghosts do not worry him and his soul is not wearied, his heart is one with all living beings." This means his emptiness and stillness enter all beings in Heaven and Earth, travelling alongside all beings. This is known as the Heavenly happiness. Heavenly happiness is the heart of the sage; this is how he cares for all under Heaven.'

The Virtue of emperors and kings considers Heaven and Earth as its parents, the Tao and Virtue as its master and actionless action as its core. Through actionless action they can make the whole world do as they will and yet not be wearied. Through action they cannot even begin to fulfil what the world requires. This is why the ancient ones valued actionless action.

[...]

Thus the ancient kings of the world, who knew everything about Heaven and Earth, had no designs; even though they understood the whole of life, they did not speak out; though their skills were greater than any in the lands bounded by oceans, they did nothing.

Heaven produces nothing,
yet all life is transformed;

Earth does not support,
yet all life is sustained;
the Emperor and the king take actionless action,
yet the whole world is served.

There is a saying that there is nothing as spiritual as Heaven,
nothing as rich as Earth,
nothing as great as emperors and kings.

[...]

Thus it was that the ancient ones clearly grasped the great Tao, seeking first the meaning of Heaven and then the meaning of its Tao and Virtue.

When they clearly understood the Tao and Virtue,
they then understood benevolence and righteousness.

When they clearly grasped benevolence and righteousness,
they could see how to perform their duties.

When they grasped how to perform their duties,
they came to understand form and fame.

When they comprehended form and fame,
they were able to make appointments.

When they had made appointments,
they went on to examining people and their efforts.

When they had examined people's efforts,
they moved to judgements of good or bad.

When they had made judgements of good and bad,
they went on to punishments and rewards.

[...]

In days gone by Shun spoke to Yao, saying, 'Being Heaven's king, how do you use your heart?'

'I do not abuse those who are defenceless,' said Yao, 'nor do I ignore the poor. I mourn for those who die, caring for the orphaned child and for the widow. This is how I use my heart.'

'Righteous as far as righteousness goes, but not that great,' commented Shun.

'What ought I to do, then?' said Yao.

'When Heaven's Virtue is found, the hills rejoice, the sun and moon shine and the four seasons are in line. The regular pattern of each day and night follows properly and the rain clouds are moved accordingly.'

Yao said, 'So all I've really been doing is getting worked up and bothered! You seek compliance with Heaven, whereas I have sought compliance with humanity.'

[...]

Confucius travelled west to place his books in the archives of Chou. Tzu Lu offered advice, saying, 'I have heard that the official in charge of the Royal Archives is Lao Tzu. But he has resigned and lives at home. Sir, if you want to place your books there, go and see him and ask his assistance.'

'Splendid,' said Confucius. So off he went to see Lao Tzu, but Lao Tzu refused to help. So Confucius took out his Twelve Classics, and started to preach.

When he was halfway through, Lao Tzu said, 'This is too much. Put it briefly.'

Confucius said, 'In essence, it is benevolence and righteousness.'

'May I ask,' said Lao Tzu, 'are benevolence and righteousness of the very essence of humanity?'

'Certainly,' said Confucius. 'If the nobleman is without benevolence, he has no purpose; if without righteousness, he has no life. Benevolence and righteousness, these are truly of the innate nature of humanity. How else could it be?'

'May I ask, what are benevolence and righteousness?'

'To be at one, centred in one's heart, in love with all, without selfishness, this is what benevolence and righteousness are,' replied Confucius.

'Really! Your words reveal misunderstanding,' said Lao Tzu. '"Love of all", that's both vague and an exaggeration! "Without selfishness", isn't that rather selfish? Sir, if you want people to remain simple, shouldn't you look to the ways of Heaven and Earth?

'Heaven and Earth have their boundaries which are constant;
the sun and moon hold their courses in their brightness;
the stars and planets proceed in the boundaries of their order;
the birds and creatures find their confines within their herds and flocks.

Think of the trees which stand within their own boundaries in order.

'So Sir, walk with Virtue and travel with the Tao, and you will reach the perfect end. Why bother with all this benevolence and righteousness, prancing along as if you were beating a drum and looking for a lost child? Sir, you will just confuse people's true nature!'

[...]

The Master said,

'The Tao does not hesitate before that which is vast,
nor does it abandon the small.

Thus it is that all life is enlivened by it.

So immense, so immense there is nothing which is not held by it;
so deep, so unfathomable beyond any reckoning.

The form of its Virtue is in benevolence and righteousness,
though this is a minor aspect of its spirit.

Who but the perfect man could comprehend all this?

The perfect man has charge of this age,
a somewhat daunting task!

However, this does not fool him or trap him.

He holds the reins of power over the whole world
but it is of little consequence to him.

His discernment unearths all falsehood
but he gives no thought to personal gain.

He gets to the heart of issues and knows how to protect the foundation of truth.

Thus Heaven and Earth are outside him,
he ignores all life and his spirit is never wearied.

He travels with the Tao,
is in agreement with Virtue,
bids farewell to benevolence and righteousness and ignores ritual and music,
because the perfect man has set his heart upon what is right.'

This generation believes that the value of the Tao is to be found in books. But books are nothing more than words, and words have value but only in terms of their meaning. Meaning is constantly seeking to express what cannot be said in words and thus passed on. This generation values words and puts them into books, yet what it values is perhaps mistaken, because what it values is not really all that valuable. So we look at things and see things, but it is only an outward form and colour, and what can be heard is just the name and sound. How sad that this generation imagines that the form, colour, name and sound are enough to capture the essence of something! The form, colour, name and sound are in no way sufficient to capture or convey the truth, which is why it is said that the knowledgeable do not speak and those who speak are not knowledgeable. But how can this generation understand this?

PART 9
Does Heaven Move?

Does Heaven move?

Does the Earth stand still?

Do the sun and moon argue about where to go?

Who is lord over all this?

Who binds and controls it?

Who, doing nothing, makes all of this be?

Is there some hidden cause that makes things as they are, whether they wish or not?

Or is it just that everything moves and turns because it has no choice?

Do the clouds come before the rain, or does the rain cause the clouds?

What causes them to be?

Who, doing nothing, brings all this joyful excess into being?

The winds come from the north,
going first to west then to east,
swirling up on high, to go who knows where?

Whose breath are they?

Who, doing nothing, creates all this activity?

[...]

Duke Huan was sitting up in his hall reading a book. The wheelwright Pien was down below in the courtyard making a wheel. He put down his chisel and hammer, went up to the hall and asked Duke Huan, 'May I ask you, Sir, what words you are reading?'

Duke Huan replied, 'The words of the sages.'

'Are these sages still living?'

'They are long dead,' said Duke Huan.

'Then, Sir, what you are reading is nothing but rubbish left over from these ancient men!'

'How dare you, a wheelwright, comment on what I read! If you can explain this, fine, if not you shall die!' thundered Duke Huan.

The wheelwright Pien replied, 'Your Lordship's servant looks at it from the perspective of his own work. When I work on a wheel, if I hit too softly, pleasant as this is, it doesn't make for a good wheel. If I hit furiously, I get tired and the thing doesn't work! So, not too soft, not too vigorous, I grasp it in my hand and hold it in my heart. I cannot express this by word of mouth, I just know it. I cannot teach this to my son, nor can my son learn it from me. So for seventy years I have gone along this path and here I am still making wheels. The ancient ones, when they died, took their words with them. Which is why I can state that what Your Lordship is reading is nothing more than rubbish left over from these ancient ones!'

[...]

Confucius had pottered along for fifty-one years and had never heard anyone speak of the Tao until he went south to Pei and went to see Lao Tzu.

Lao Tzu said, 'So you've come then, Sir? I have heard of you, that you are the wise man of the north. Have you, Sir, followed the Tao?'

'I have not yet followed it,' replied Confucius.

'Well, Sir, where have you looked?'

'I looked for it in what can be measured and regulated but even after five years I still haven't been able to find it.'

'So, Sir, what did you do then?' asked Lao Tzu.

'I looked for it in yin and yang, but ten, twelve years went by and I still couldn't find it.'

'Obviously!' said Lao Tzu. 'If the Tao could be served up, everyone would serve it up to their lords. If the Tao could be offered, there is no one who would not offer it to their parents. If the Tao could be spoken of, there is no one who would not speak of it to their brothers and sisters. If the Tao could be passed on, there is no one who would not pass it on to their heirs. However, it obviously cannot be so and the reason is as follows.

'If there is no true centre within to receive it,
it cannot remain;
if there is no true direction outside to guide it,
it cannot be received.

If the true centre is not brought out
it cannot receive on the outside.

The sage cannot draw it forth.

If what comes in from the outside is not welcomed by the true centre,
then the sage cannot let it go.

[...]

Confucius went to see Lao Tzu and talked with him about benevolence and righteousness. Lao Tzu said, 'If you get grit in your eye from winnowing chaff, then Heaven and Earth and the four directions get mixed up. A mosquito or gadfly which stings you can keep you awake all night. And benevolence and righteousness, when forced upon us, disturb your heart and produce great distress. You, Sir, if you want to stop everything below Heaven losing its original simplicity, you must travel with the wind and stand firm in Virtue. Why do you exert yourself so much, banging a big drum and hunting for a lost child? The snow goose doesn't need a daily bath to stay white, nor does the crow need to be stained every day to stay black. Black and white comes from natural simplicity, not from argument. Fame and fortune, though sought after, do not make people greater than they actually are. When the waters dry up and the fish are stranded on the dry land, they huddle together and try to keep each other moist by spitting and wetting each other. But wouldn't it be even better if they could just forget each other, safe in their lakes and rivers?'

After seeing Lao Tzu, Confucius went home and for three days he said nothing. His followers asked him, 'Master, now you have seen Lao Tzu, what do you make of him?'

'I have now seen a dragon!' said Confucius. 'A dragon coils up to show its form, it stretches out to display its power. It rides upon the breath of the clouds and is nourished by yin and yang. My mouth gaped open and I could not shut it. What can I say about Lao Tzu?'

[...]

The ancient ones talked of the Timeliness of Purpose, but they did not mean having official carriages and badges of office. They simply meant that it was happiness so complete as to need nothing more. Today what is called Timeliness of Purpose means having official carriages and badges of office. Carriages and badges are of the body, they do not touch the innate nature. From time to time such benefits may come. When this happens, you cannot help it, no more than you can stop them going again. So having carriages and badges of office is no reason for becoming proud and arrogant in our purposes, nor are distress and poverty any reason for becoming vulgar. View both conditions as one and the same, so be free from anxiety and leave it at that. So if loss of what gives happiness causes you distress when it fades, you can now understand that such happiness is worthless. It is said, those who lose themselves in their desire for things also lose their innate nature by being vulgar. They are known as people who turn things upside down.

PART 10
Reality and Happiness

The season of the autumn floods had come and the hundred rivers were pouring into the Yellow River. The waters were churning and so wide that, looking across from one bank to the other, it was impossible to distinguish an ox from a horse. At this the Lord of the Yellow River was decidedly pleased, thinking that the most beautiful thing in the whole world belonged to him. Flowing with the river, he travelled east until he came at last to the North Ocean, where he looked east and could see no end to the waters. He shook his head, the Lord of the Yellow River, and looked out to confront Jo, god of the Ocean, sighing and saying.

'The folk proverb says, "The person who has heard of the Tao a hundred times thinks he is better than anyone else." This refers to me. I have heard people mock the scholarship of the Confucians and give scant regard to the righteousness of Po Yi, but I didn't believe them. Now I have seen your endless vastness. If I had not come to your gate, I would have been in danger, and been mocked by those of the Great Method.'

Jo of the North Ocean replied, 'A frog in a well cannot discuss the ocean, because he is limited by the size of his well. A summer insect cannot discuss ice, because it knows only its own season. A narrow-minded scholar cannot discuss the Tao, because he is constrained by his teachings. Now you have come out of your banks and seen the Great Ocean. You now know your own inferiority, so it is now possible to discuss great principles with you. Under Heaven there are no greater waters than the ocean. Ten thousand rivers flow into it, and it has never been known to stop, but it never fills. At Wei Lu the water disappears but the ocean never empties. Spring and autumn bring no changes. It pays no attention to floods or droughts. It is so much more than the waters of the Yangtze and the Yellow Rivers, it is impossible to estimate. However, I have never made much of this. I just compare myself with Heaven and Earth and my life-breath I receive from yin and yang. I am just a little stone or a little tree set on a great hill, in comparison to Heaven and Earth. As I perceive my own inferiority, how could I ever be proud?

'To compare all the space filled by the four oceans, is it not like a pile of stones beside a marsh in comparison with the vastness between Heaven and Earth? To compare China with all the space between the oceans, is it not like one single piece of grain in a granary? When talking of all life, we count them in tens of thousands, and humanity is just one of them. People inhabit the Nine Provinces, but humanity is just one portion of all the life that is sustained by grain, wherever carriages or boats can go. In comparison to all the multitudinous forms of life, isn't humanity like just a single hair on a horse?

[...]

The Lord of the Yellow River said, 'The debaters of this generation say, "The tiniest thing has no body, the most enormous thing cannot be contained." Are these words true?'

Jo of the North Ocean replied, 'From the viewpoint of the tiniest, we look at what is so enormous and we cannot comprehend it. From the viewpoint of the most enormous, we look at what is tiniest and we cannot see it clearly. The tiniest is the smallest of the small, the biggest is the largest of the large; so we must distinguish between them, even though this is just a matter of circumstance. However, both the coarse and the refined have form. Without any form, there is no way to enumerate them. What can be said in words is the coarseness of things; what can be grasped through ideas is the subtlety of things. But words cannot describe nor ideas grasp, and this has nothing to do with coarseness or refinement.

'So it is that the great man through his actions will not set out to harm others, nor make much of benevolence and charity; he does not make any move for gain, nor consider the servant at the gate as lowly; he will not barter for property and riches, nor does he make much of his having turned them down; he asks for no one's help, nor does he make much of his own self-reliance, nor despise the greedy and mean; he does not follow the crowd, nor does he make much of being so different; he comes behind the crowd, but does not make much of those who get ahead through flattery. The titles and honours of this world are of no interest to him, nor is he concerned at the disgrace of punishments. He knows there is no distinction between right and wrong, nor between great and little. I have heard it said, "The Tao man earns no reputation, perfect Virtue is not followed, the great man is self-less." In perfection, this is the path he follows.'

The Lord of the Yellow River asked, 'Whether they are external or internal, how come we have these distinctions between noble and mean? Why do we distinguish between small and great?'

'Viewed from the perspective of the Tao,' said Jo of the North Ocean, 'things are neither elevated nor lowly. Viewed from the perspective of things, each one considers itself as elevated and the rest as lowly. Viewed from the perspective of the everyday opinion, neither elevation nor lowliness is to be understood from the perspective of individual things. Taking into account differing views, something which is seen as big because it is big means that, in all the multitudes of life, everything can be viewed as big. Likewise, if something is seen as small because it is small, then all forms of life can be viewed as small. If we know that Heaven and Earth are as tiny as a grain or the tip of a hair is as vast as a mountain range, then we will have grasped that our understanding of size is relative. In terms of what each does, we view something as useful because it is useful, which means that, in all the multitudes of life, everything can be viewed as useful. In the same way, if something is viewed as useless because it appears useless, then all forms of life can be viewed as useless. If we know that east and west are opposite each other, but also need each other, then we can understand how mutual exchange and interaction work. Viewed from the perspective of choice, if something is seen as good because it undoubtedly is good, then in all the multitudes of life there is nothing which is not good. Likewise, if something is viewed as wrong because it undoubtedly is wrong, then there is no form of life which cannot be viewed as wrong.'

[...]

'Be quiet, be quiet, Lord of the Yellow River! How could you know anything about the gateway to nobility or meanness or the dwelling place of greatness or pettiness?'

'All right then,' said the Lord of the Yellow River. 'What am I to do and what may I not do? How can I decide what is worth keeping or rejecting and what is worth going for or leaving?'

Jo of the North Ocean said, 'Viewed from the perspective of the Tao, what is noble and what is mean are both just ceaseless changes. Don't cling to your own ideas, for this is contrary to the greatness of the Tao. What is little and what is much, these are terms of very limited use. Do not try to be just One, this just highlights how far away you are from the Tao. Be stern and strict like a ruler of a country who favours no one. Be gentle, be gentle like the local earth god to whom offerings are made and who does not grant fortune selfishly. Be open like air, like the four compass points shed light but do not permit boundaries. If you lovingly tend all forms of life, how could you favour one? This is known as being impartial. Consider all life as unified and then how could you talk in terms of long or short? The Tao has neither beginning nor end, but all living things have both death and birth, so you cannot be sure of them. One moment they are empty, the next moment full. They are unreliable. The years cannot be reversed nor time halted. Decay, maturity, fullness and emptiness, when they end, begin over again. So we can talk of great righteousness, and discuss the fundamental principle within all forms of life. The life force is a headlong gallop, speeding along, changing with every movement and altering every minute. As to what you should and should not do? Just go with this process of change.'

'If this is the case,' said the Lord of the Yellow River, 'then what is so important about the Tao?'

Jo of the North Ocean replied, 'To understand the Tao is to understand the principle. If you understand the principle, you know how to deal with things as they arise. Knowing this, you can ensure that nothing detrimental to yourself occurs. If someone has perfect Virtue, it is not possible for fire to harm, nor for water to drown, nor for either cold or heat to affect, nor birds and beasts to injure him. Not that I say that he dismisses all these things, but that he is able to discriminate between where he is safe and where he is in danger. He is at ease with both calamity and fortune, takes care as to what he approaches or avoids, and therefore nothing harms him. There is a saying that Heaven is internal, humanity external and Virtue comes from the Heavenly. Know Heaven and humanity's actions, root yourself in Heaven and follow Virtue. Then you can bend, stretch, rush forward or hold back, because you will always return to the core and it will be said you have achieved the supreme.'

'But what do you call the Heavenly? What do you call the human?'

Jo of the North Ocean said, 'Oxen have four feet: this is what I call the Heavenly. When horses are harnessed and oxen have pierced noses, this I call the human way. There is the saying. "Don't allow the human to displace the Heavenly," don't allow your intentions to nullify what is ordained. Be careful, guard it and don't lose it, for this is what I call coming back to the True.'

The one-legged creature is envious of the millipede; the millipede is envious of the snake; the snake is envious of the wind; the wind is envious of the eye; the eye is envious of the heart.

The one-legged creature said to the millipede, 'I have one foot that I hop on and I can hardly go anywhere. But you, Sir, have a multitude of feet. How do you manage?'

The millipede said, 'Don't be so certain. Have you never seen someone spit? Out comes a big blob followed by a spray, which falls down like a shower of uncountable drops. Now I just set the Heavenly machinery in motion and as for the rest - I haven't a clue!'

The millipede said to the snake, 'I get about with all these feet, but I can't keep up with you, Sir, who have no feet. Why is this?'

The snake said, 'I am moved by the designs of Heaven, how can I control that? What could I use feet for!'

The snake said to the wind, 'By moving my backbone and ribs, I get along and at least I have some visible form. Now you, Sir, come hurtling along from the North Ocean and disappear off to the South Ocean but without any visible form. How is that?'

The wind said, 'True, I come hurtling along from the North Ocean and disappear off to the South Ocean. However, it is true that, if you point your finger at me, you are greater than me, or if you stamp on me, you also win. But it is also true that I can bring down great trees and bowl over great houses; only I can do this. Therefore, the one who can overcome all the small problems is in truth the great victor. To have a great victory, why, this is what a sage does.'

[...]

Kung Sun Lung asked Mou of Wei, 'When I was younger, I learned the Tao of the earlier kings, and, as I grew up, I saw clearly the significance of benevolence and righteousness. I brought together difference and similarity, discerned hardness and whiteness, what was certain and what was not, what was possible and what was not. I laboured at understanding the Hundred Schools of Philosophy and spoke out against their teachings. I thought I had understanding of all things. Now, however, I have heard the words of Chuang Tzu, and to my surprise I am disturbed by them. Is it that my knowledge is not as good as his, or is it that his understanding is greater? I find I can't even open my mouth, so I ask you what I can do.'

Duke Tzu Mou leaned forward, sighed heavily, looked to Heaven, smiled and said, 'Dear Sir, have you not heard of the frog in the broken-down old well? He said to the turtle of the Eastern Ocean, "I have a great time! I leap on to the well wall, or I go down in the well, stepping along the broken bricks. When I enter the water, I float with it supporting my chin, feet up; on the mud, I dig my feet deep in. I look about me at the larvae, crabs and tadpoles and there is none that is as good as I. To have complete control of the waters of the gorge and not to wish to move but to enjoy the old well, this is great! Dear Sir, why don't you come down and see me sometime?'

'The turtle of the Eastern Ocean tried, but before he had put his left foot into the well, his right knee was stuck. At this he paused, shuffled out backwards and then began to speak about the ocean. "A distance such as a thousand miles doesn't come close to describing its length, nor a depth of a thousand leagues describe its deepness. In the time of Yu, nine years in every ten there were floods, but this did not raise the ocean an inch. In the time of Tang, seven years in every eight there were droughts, but this did not lower the ocean shore an inch. Nothing changes these waters, neither in the short term nor in the long term; they neither recede nor advance, grow larger nor smaller. This is the great happiness of the Eastern Ocean." When the frog in the broken-down old well heard this, he was utterly amazed and astonished; he was utterly astonished, dumbfounded and at a loss.

'For someone whose understanding can't handle such knowledge, such debates about right and wrong, if they persist in trying to see through the words of Chuang Tzu, it is like a mosquito trying to carry a mountain on its back, or a scuttle bug rushing as fast as the Yellow River. This is plainly impossible. For someone whose understanding cannot handle such knowledge, such words of subtlety, all they are capable of is gaining some short-term reward. They are like the frog in the broken-down well, are they not? But Chuang Tzu is not planted firmly in the Yellow Springs of the Underworld, nor leaping, jumping into the stratosphere. There is neither south nor north: he scatters freely to the four points of the compass, and disappears into the depth. There is neither east nor west: starting in the darkest depth, he comes back to the great path. Then you, Sir, you in your astonishment try to sift his views to criticize them, or trawl through them in order to debate. Why, this is like trying to examine Heaven through a narrow tube or using an awl to explore the whole earth. Such tools are too small, aren't they? You, Sir, be on your way! Or possibly, Sir, you have not heard of the young students of Shou Ling and how things went for them in Han Tan? Having not yet learnt the lessons that the people of that country were trying to teach them, they forgot what they had learnt at home, so were reduced to crawling back home. So, Sir, if you don't get out now, you will forget, Sir, what you already knew and fail, Sir, in your career!'

Kung Sun Lung's mouth fell open and would not shut, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and wouldn't drop down, and he shuffled off and ran away.

Chuang Tzu was one day fishing in the Pu river when the King of Chu despatched two senior officials to visit him with a message. The message said, 'I would like to trouble you to administer my lands.'

Chuang Tzu kept a firm grip on his fishing rod and said, 'I hear that in Chu there is a sacred tortoise which died three thousand years ago. The King keeps this in his ancestral temple, wrapped and enclosed. Tell me, would this tortoise have wanted to die and leave his shell to be venerated? Or would he rather have lived and continued to crawl about in the mud?'

The two senior officials said, 'It would rather have lived and continued to crawl about in the mud.'

Chuang Tzu said, 'Shove off, then! I will continue to crawl about in the mud!'

[...]

Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu were walking beside the weir on the River Hao, when Chuang Tzu said, 'Do you see how the fish are coming to the surface and swimming around as they please? That's what fish really enjoy.'

'You're not a fish,' replied Hui Tzu, 'so how can you say you know what fish enjoy?'

Chuang Tzu said: 'You are not me, so how can you know I don't know what fish enjoy?'

Hui Tzu said: 'I am not you, so I definitely don't know what it is you know. However, you are most definitely not a fish and that proves that you don't know what fish really enjoy.'

Chuang Tzu said: 'Ah, but let's return to the original question you raised, if you don't mind. You asked me how I could know what it is that fish really enjoy. Therefore, you already knew I knew it when you asked the question. And I know it by being here on the edge of the River Hao.'

[...]

Is it possible anywhere in this whole wide world to have perfect happiness or not? Is there a way to keep yourself alive or not? Now, what can be done and what is to be trusted? What should be avoided and what adhered to? What should be pursued and what abandoned? Where is happiness and where is evil?

What the whole wide world values is riches, position, long life and fame.

What brings happiness is good times for oneself, fine foods, beautiful clothes, lovely sights and sweet music.

What is despised is poverty, meanness, untimely death and a bad reputation.

What is considered sour is a lifestyle which gives the self no rest, a mouth which never has fine foods, a body without good clothes, eyes that never rest upon lovely views, an ear that never hears sweet music.

Those who cannot get these things become greatly agitated and fearful. This is a foolish way to treat the body!

Those who are wealthy weary themselves dashing around working, getting more and more riches, beyond what they need. The body is treated therefore as just an external thing.

Those in positions of power spend day and night plotting and pondering about what to do. The body is treated in a very careless way. People live their lives, constantly surrounded by anxiety. If they live long before dying, they end up in senility, worn out by concerns: a terrible fate! The body is treated in a very harsh fashion. Courageous men are seen by everyone under Heaven as worthy, but this doesn't preserve them from death. I am not sure I know whether this is sensible or not. Possibly it is, but it does nothing towards saving them. Possibly it is not, but it does save other people. It is said, 'If a friend doesn't listen to the advice you offer him, then bow out and don't argue.' After all, Tzu Hsu argued and lost his life. If he had not argued, he would not be famous. Is it possible that there really is goodness, or not?

Now, when ordinary people attempt to find happiness, I'm not sure whether the happiness found is really happiness or not. I study what ordinary people do to find happiness, what they struggle for, rushing about apparently unable to stop. They say they are happy, but I am not happy and I am not unhappy either. Ultimately, do they have happiness or not? I regard actionless action as worthy of being called happiness, though the ordinary people regard it as a great burden. It is said: 'Perfect happiness is not happiness, perfect glory is not glory.'

The whole world is incapable of judging either right or wrong. But it is certain that actionless action can judge both right and wrong. Perfect happiness is keeping yourself alive, and only actionless action can have this effect. This is why I want to say:

Heaven does without doing through its purity,

Earth does without doing through its calmness.

Thus the two combine their actionless action and all forms of life are changed and thus come out again to live! Wonder of wonders, they have not come from anywhere! All life is mysterious and emerges from actionless action. There is a saying that Heaven and Earth take actionless action, but yet nothing remains undone. Amongst the people, who can follow such actionless action?

[...]

Uncle Legless and Uncle Cripple were touring the area of the Hill of the Dark Prince and the zone of Kun Lun where the Yellow Emperor stayed. Without warning a willow tree suddenly shot up out of Uncle Cripple's left elbow. He was certainly most surprised and somewhat put out.

'Sir, do you dislike this?' said Uncle Legless.

'No,' said Uncle Cripple. 'What should I dislike? Life exists through scrounging; if life comes through scrounging, then life is like a dump. Death and birth are like the morning and the night. You and I, Sir, observe the ways of transformation and now I am being transformed. So how could I dislike this?'

Chuang Tzu went to Chu to see an ancient desiccated skull, which he prodded with his riding crop, saying, 'Sir, did you follow some unfortunate course which meant you brought dishonour upon your father and mother and family and so end up like this? Sir, was it perhaps the cold and hunger that reduced you to this? Sir, perhaps it was just the steady succession of springs and autumns that brought you to this?'

So saying, he pulled the skull towards him and lay down to sleep, using the skull as a head-rest. At midnight he saw the skull in a dream and it said, 'Sir, you gabble on like a public speaker. Every word you say, Sir, shows that you are a man caught up with life. We dead have nothing to do with this. Would you like to hear a discourse upon death, Sir?'

'Certainly,' said Chuang Tzu.

The skull told him, 'The dead have no lord over them, no servants below them. There is none of the work associated with the four seasons, so we live as if our springs and autumns were like Heaven and Earth, unending. Make no mistake, a king facing south could not be happier.'

Chuang Tzu could not believe this and said, 'If I got the Harmonizer of Destinies to bring you back to life, Sir, with a body, flesh and blood, and companions, wouldn't you like that?'

The skull frowned, looked aggrieved and said, 'Why should I want to cast away happiness greater than that of kings and become a burdened human being again?'

[...]

Confucius said: 'Have you never heard this story before? Once upon a time, a seabird alighted in the capital city of Lu. The Earl of Lu carried it in procession to the ancestral shrine, where he played the Nine Shao music and offered the offerings of the sacrifice to it. However, the poor bird just looked confused and lost and did not eat a single piece of meat, nor did it drink even one cup of wine, and within three days it died. The problem was trying to feed a bird on what you eat rather than what a bird needs.

'To feed a bird so it survives, let it live in the midst of the forest, gambol on the shores and inlets, float on the rivers and lakes, devour mudfish and tiddlers, go with the flock, either flying or resting, and be as it wishes. Birds dislike hearing human voices, never mind all the other noises and trouble! If you try to make them happy by playing the Nine Shao music in the area around their lakes, when the birds hear it they will fly away. If the animals hear it, they will run away and hide and if the fish hear it they will dive down to escape. Only the people, if they hear it, will come together to listen.

'Fish can live in water quite contentedly, but if people try it, they die, for different beings need different contexts which are right and proper for them. This is why the ancient sages never expected just one response from the rest of the creatures nor tried to make them conform. Titles should not be over-stretched in trying to capture reality and ideas should be only applied when appropriate, for this is not only sensible, it will bring good fortune.'

[...]

The priest of the ancestors looked into the pigsty and said, 'What's so bad about dying? I fatten you up for three months, then I undergo spiritual discipline for ten days, fast for three days, lay out the white reeds, carve up your shoulders and rump and lay them on the place of sacrifice. Surely you're OK with that, aren't you?'

It is, however, true to say that from the perspective of the pig it would be better to eat oats and bran and stay there in the pigsty. It is also true that, looking at this from my perspective, I'd like to be honoured as an important official while alive and, when I die, be buried with a horse-drawn hearse, lying upon a bed of feathers. I could live with that! From the pig's point of view, I wouldn't give a penny for such a life, but from my point of view, I'd be very content, though I wonder why I perceive things so differently from a pig?

PART 11
Grasping the Purpose of Life

If you have grasped the purpose of life there is no point in trying to make life into something it is not or cannot be. If you have grasped the purpose of destiny, there is no point in trying to change it through knowledge.

If you wish to care for your body, first of all take care of material things, though even when you have all the things you want, the body can still be uncared for.

Since you have life, you must first of all take care that this does not abandon the body. However, it is possible for the body to retain its life, but still not be sustained. Birth cannot be avoided, nor death be prevented. How ridiculous! To see the people of this generation who believe that simply caring for the body will preserve life. But if caring for the body is not sufficient to sustain life, why does the world continue to do this? It may be worthless, but nevertheless it cannot be neglected, we are unable to avoid it.

If someone wishes to stop doing anything to sustain the body, they are advised to leave this world, for by leaving they can be free from any commitments, and, being free from commitments, they can be virtuous and peaceful. Being virtuous and peaceful, they can be born again like others and, being born again, they approach close to the Tao. But why is it such a good idea to leave the troubles of this existence and to forget the purpose of life? If you leave the troubles of existence, your body will not be wearied; if you forget life, your energy will not be damaged. Thus, with your body and energy harmonized, you can become one with Heaven. Heaven and Earth are the father and mother of all life. Together they create a form, apart they create a beginning. If body and energy are without fault, this is known as being able to adapt. Strengthened and again strengthened, you come back again to assist Heaven.

Master Lieh Tzu asked gatekeeper Yin, 'Only the perfect man can walk under water and not drown, can walk on fire without burning, and can pass over the multitude of forms of life without fear. I would like to ask, how does the perfect one do this?'

Gatekeeper Yin replied, 'It is because he preserves his original breath and this has nothing to do with knowledge, work, persistence or bravery. Sit down, and I will tell you all about it.

'Everything has a face, forms, sounds and colour: these are just appearances. How is it possible that this thing and that thing are separated from each other? Indeed, why should any of them be viewed as truly the first of all beings? They are just forms and colours, and nothing more. However, everything arises from what is formless and descends into that which is changeless.

'If you grasp and follow this, using it to the full, nothing can stand in your way! It means being able to reside within limits which have no limit, be secluded within boundaries which have no beginning, ramble to where both the beginning and the end of all life is; combine the essential nature, nourish the original breath, harmonize Virtue and, by following this path, commune with the origin of all life. Someone like this guards his unity with Heaven, his spirit is without fault, and thus nothing can get inside and attack him!

'If a drunk falls out of his carriage, even if the carriage is going very fast, he will not die. He is just the same as others, bone and joints, but he is not injured, for his spirit is united. Since he does not realize he was travelling, he has no idea that he has fallen out, so neither life nor death, alarm nor fear can affect him, and he just bumps into things without any anxiety or injury.

'If it is possible to stay united through being drunk on wine, just imagine how much more together one could be if united with Heaven! The sage retreats to the serenity of Heaven, as a result nothing causes him harm. Even someone who is out for revenge does not break his opponent's sword. Nor does someone get cross with a tile that just fell on him, no matter how upset he is. Instead, we should recognize that everything under Heaven is united. Thus it is possible to get rid of chaos, violence and warfare and of the rigours of punishment and execution, for this is the Tao.

'Do not hearken to the Heavenly in humanity, but listen to the Heavenly in Heaven, for paying attention to Heaven's Virtue is life-giving, while attending to humanity damages life. Do not cast aside the Heavenly, and do not ignore the human aspect: then the people will draw closer to the realization of Truth!'

[...]

Confucius was sightseeing in Lu Liang, where the waterfall is thirty fathoms high and the river races along for forty miles, so fast that neither fish nor any other creature can swim in it. He saw one person dive in and he assumed that this person wanted to embrace death, perhaps because of some anxiety, so he placed his followers along the bank and they prepared to pull him out. However, the swimmer, having gone a hundred yards, came out, and walked nonchalantly along the bank, singing a song with water dripping off him.

Confucius pursued him and said, 'I thought you were a ghost, but now I see, Sir, that you are a man. I wish to enquire, do you have a Tao for swimming under the water?'

He said, 'No, I have no Tao. I started with what I knew, matured my innate nature and allow destiny to do the rest. I go in with the currents and come out with the flow, just going with the Tao of the water and never being concerned. That is how I survive.'

Confucius said, 'What do you mean when you say you started with what you knew, matured your innate nature and allow destiny to do the rest?'

He said, 'I was born on the dry land and feel content on the land, where I know what I know. I was nurtured by the water, and felt safe there: that reflects my innate nature. I am not sure why I do this, but I am certain that this is destiny.'

Woodcarver Ching carved a piece of wood to form a bell support, and those who saw it were astonished because it looked as if ghosts or spirits had done it. The Marquis of Lu saw it, and asked, 'Where does your art come from?'

'I am just a woodcarver,' Ching replied. 'How could I have "art"? One thing is certain, though, that when I carve a bell support, I do not allow it to exhaust my original breath, so I take care to calm my heart. After I have fasted for three days, I give no thought to praise, reward, titles or income. After I have fasted for five days, I give no thought to glory or blame, to skill or stupidity. After I have fasted for seven days, I am so still that I forget whether I have four limbs and a body. By then the Duke and his court have ceased to exist as far as I am concerned. All my energy is focused and external concerns have gone. After that I depart and enter the mountain forest, and explore the Heavenly innate nature of the trees; once I find one with a perfect shape, I can see for certain the possibility of a bell support and I set my hand to the task; if I cannot see the possibility, I leave it be. By so doing, I harmonize the Heavenly with Heaven, and perhaps this is why it is thought that my carvings are done by spirits!'

[...]

Workman Chui could draw as straight as a T-square or as curved as a compass, because his fingers could follow the changes and his heart did not obstruct. Thus his mind was one and never blocked. The feet can be forgotten when you walk in comfortable shoes. The waist can be forgotten when your belt fits comfortably. Knowledge can forget yes and no, if the heart journeys contentedly. Nothing changes inside, nothing proceeds from outside, if you respond to what occurs in a contented way. By starting with what is contented, not undergoing that which is disturbing, it is possible to know the contentment of forgetting what contentment is.

[...]

Chuang Tzu was walking through the heart of the mountains when he saw a huge verdant tree. A woodcutter stopped beside the tree, but did not cut it. When asked why he didn't he said, 'It's no good.' Chuang Tzu said, 'Because this tree is not considered useful, it can follow all the years Heaven has given it.'

The Master came out of the mountains and stayed a night at a friend's house. This man was delighted and told his son to kill a goose and cook it. The son answered, saying, 'One goose can cackle, the other one can't. Tell me which one to prepare?' The father replied, 'Prepare the one that does not cackle.'

On the next day Chuang Tzu's followers asked him, 'Yesterday there was a tree in the heart of the mountains which was able to live all the years Heaven gives because it is no use. Now, at your friend's house, there is a goose who dies because it is no use. Teacher, what do you think of this?'

Chuang Tzu laughed and said, 'Personally, I'd find a position between useful and useless. This position between useful and useless might seem a good position, but I tell you it is not, for trouble will pursue you. It would certainly not be so, however, if you were to mount upon the Virtue of the Tao;

'never certain, never directed,
never praised, never condemned,
on the one hand a dragon, on the other a snake,
going as it seems appropriate.

Now up, now down,
using harmony as your guide,
floating on the source of all life.

'Let things be, but don't allow things to treat you as just an object, then you cannot be led into difficulties! This is the path taken by Shen Nung and the Yellow Emperor. Now, however, because of the multitudinous varieties of species and the ethical codes of humanity, things certainly aren't what they were!

'There is unity only in order to divide;
fulfilment only in order to collapse;
a cutting edge is blunted;
those who are elevated are overthrown;
ambition is thwarted;
the wise are conspired against;
the fools are conned.

'So what can be trusted? My followers, just the Tao and its Virtue!'

[...]

Confucius was besieged in the area between Chen and Tsai and had no hot food for seven days. The Grand Duke Jen came out to express his concern and said, 'Master, do you think you will die?'

'Certainly,' said Confucius.

'Master, are you frightened by death?'

'Certainly.'

'I would like to tell you the Tao of never dying,' said Jen. 'There is a bird that dwells in the Eastern ocean called Helpless. This bird is helpless for it flips and flops, flips and flops, as if it had no strength, flying only with the assistance of the other birds and jostling to return to the nest. None of them likes to be in front or behind, preferring to pick away at what others leave. Thus, when the bird flies, it is never alone, and no others outside the flock, such as humans, can do it any harm, so it avoids disasters.

'The straight tree is the first to be chopped down; the well of sweet water is the first to run dry. Sir, your intention is to display your knowledge in order to astonish the ignorant, and by developing your self, to cast a light upon the crudeness of others. You shine, you positively glow, as if you carried with you the sun and moon. All this is why you cannot avoid disasters.

'I have heard the great fulfilment man say, "The boastful have done nothing worthwhile, those who do something worthwhile will see it fade, fame soon disappears." There are few who can forget success and fame and just return to being ordinary citizens again! The Tao moves all, but the perfect man does not stand in its light, his Virtue moves all, but he does not seek fame. He is empty and plain, and seems crazy. Anonymous, abdicating power, he has no interest in work or fame. So he doesn't criticize others and they don't criticize him. The perfect man is never heard, so why, Sir, do you so want to be?'

Confucius said, 'Splendid!' then said farewell to his friends, left his followers and retired into a great marsh, put on animal skins and rough cloth and lived off acorns and chestnuts. He went out amongst the animals and they were not afraid, amongst the birds and they did not fly away. If the birds and animals were not alarmed, then neither should people be either!

Confucius asked Master Sang Hu, 'I have been exiled from Lu twice, a tree was toppled on top of me in Sung, all records of me have been wiped out in Wei, I was impoverished in Shang and besieged in Chen and Tsai. I have had to endure so many troubles. My friends and acquaintances have wandered off and my followers have begun deserting me. But why is this happening?'

Master Sang Hu said, 'Have you not heard of the man of Chia who ran away? Lin Hui threw aside his jade emblem worth a thousand pieces of gold, tied his son to his back and hurried away. People asked, "Was it because the boy was worth more? Surely a child isn't that valuable. Was it because of all the effort required to carry the jade? But surely a child is even more trouble. So why throw away the jade emblem worth a thousand pieces of gold and rush off with the young child on your back?" Lin Hui told them, "It was greed that brought me and the jade emblem together, but it was Heaven that linked my son and me together."

'When the ties between people are based upon profit, then when troubles come, people part easily. When people are brought together by Heaven, then when troubles come, they hold together. To hold together or to separate, these are two very different things. The relationship with a nobleman can be as bland as water, that with a mean-spirited person sickly sweet as wine. However, the blandness of the nobleman can develop into affection, but the sweetness of the mean-spirited person develops into revulsion. That which unites for no apparent reason, will fall apart for no apparent reason.'

[...]

Chuang Tzu, dressed in a worn, patched gown made of coarse cloth and with shoes held together with string, went to visit the King of Wei. The King of Wei said, 'Why are you in such a state, Master?'

Chuang Tzu replied, "This is poverty but not distress. If a scholar has the Tao and the Virtue but is unable to use them, that is distress. If his clothes are worn and shoes held together with string, that is poverty but not distress. This is known as not being around at the right time. Your Majesty, have you never seen monkeys climbing? When they are amongst plane trees, the oaks and camphor trees, they cling to branches and leaves with such ease that not even the archers Yi or Peng Meng could spot them. However, when they are amongst the prickly mulberry, thorny date trees and other spiky bushes, they move cautiously, looking from side to side, shaking with fear. This is not because their sinews and bones have gone stiff or unable to bend, but because the monkeys are not in their own environment and so cannot use their skills. Now that I find myself living with a benighted leader and with rebellious ministers above me, how can I avoid distress?

[...]

Chuang Tzu was wandering through the park at Tiao Ling, when he saw a strange jackdaw come flying from the south. Its wing-span measured seven feet and its eyes were large, about an inch across. It brushed against Chuang Tzu's forehead as it passed and then came to rest in a copse of chestnut trees. Chuang Tzu said, 'What sort of bird is this, with wings so vast but going nowhere, eyes so large but it can't see properly?' Hitching up his robe, he hurried after it with his crossbow in order to take a pot shot at it. On the way he saw a cicada which was basking in a beautiful shady spot, without a thought for its bodily safety. Suddenly, a praying mantis stretched forth its feelers and prepared to spring upon the cicada, so engrossed in the hunt that it forgot its own safety. The strange jackdaw swept down and seized them both, likewise forgetting its own safety in the excitement of the prize. Chuang Tzu sighed with compassion and said, 'Ah! So it is that one thing brings disaster upon another, and then upon itself!' He cast aside his crossbow and was on his way out, when the forester chased after him, shouting at him for being a poacher.

Chuang Tzu went home and was depressed for three months. Lin Chou, who was with him, asked him, 'Master, why are you so miserable?'

Chuang Tzu said, 'I was so concerned with my body that I forgot my self. It was like looking into cloudy water, thinking it was really clear. Furthermore, I heard my Master say once, "When associating with the locals, act like a local." So I went out walking in the park at Tiao Ling and forgot my own self. A strange jackdaw touched my forehead, then settled in a copse of chestnut trees and there forgot its own true being. The forester thought I was to blame. This is why I'm miserable.'

[...]

Confucius went to see Lao Tzu and found him washing his hair. He had spread it out over his shoulders to dry. He stood there without moving, as if no one else existed in the world. Confucius stood quietly and then, after a while, quietly came into his vision and said, 'Were my eyes dazzled, is this really you? Just now, Sir, your body was as still as an old dead tree. You seemed to have no thought in your head, as if you were in another world and standing utterly alone.'

'I let my heart ponder upon the origin of beginnings,' said Lao Tzu.

'What do you mean?' asked Confucius.

'The heart may try to reason this out but doesn't understand it, and the mouth may hang open but can't find words to say. Still, I will attempt to describe this to you. Perfect yin is harsh and cold, perfect yang is awesome and fiery. Harshness and coldness emanate from Earth, awesomeness and fieriness emanate from Heaven. The two mingle and join, and from their conjunction comes to birth everything that lives. Maybe there is one who controls and ensures all this, but if so, then no one has seen any form or shape. Decay and growth, fullness and emptiness, at one time dark, at another bright, the changes of the sun and the transformation of the moon, these go by day after day, but no one has seen what causes this. Life has its origin from which it emerges and death has its place to which it returns. Beginning and end follow each other inexorably and no one knows of any end to this. If this is not so, then who is the origin and guide?'

'I want to ask what it means to wander like this,' said Confucius.

Lao Tzu said, 'To obtain this is perfect beauty and perfect happiness, and to obtain perfect beauty and wander in perfect happiness is to be a perfect man.'

'I would like to hear how this is done,' said Confucius.

Lao Tzu replied, 'Creatures that eat grass are not put out by a change of pasture. Creatures that are born in the water are not put out by a change of water. They can live with a minor change, but not with a change to that which is the most significant. Joy, anger, sadness and happiness do not enter into their breasts. All under Heaven, all forms of life, come together in the One. Obtain the One and merge with it and all your four limbs and hundred joints will become just dust and ashes. For death and birth, ending and beginning are nothing more than the sequence of day and night. Then you will never be disturbed in your contentment by such trifles as gain and loss, for example, good fortune or bad! Those who ignore the status of authority, casting it aside like so much mud, they know that their own self is of greater significance than any title. The value of your self lies within and is not affected by what happens externally. The constant transformation of all forms of life is like a beginning without end. What is there in this to disturb your heart? Those who comprehend the Tao are freed from all this.'

'Master,' said Confucius, 'your Virtue is like that of Heaven and Earth, but even you have to resort to these perfect words to guide you. Who amongst the great men of antiquity could have lived this out?'

Lao Tzu replied, 'I certainly do not. The flowing of the stream does nothing, but it follows its nature. The perfect man does the same with regard to Virtue. He does nothing to cultivate it, but all is affected by its presence. He is like the height of Heaven: natural; or the solidity of Earth, the brightness of sun and moon: all natural. There is no need to cultivate this!'

[...]

Chuang Tzu went to see Duke Ai of Lu. Duke Ai said, 'There are many learned scholars in Lu but few of them study your works, Master.'

Chuang Tzu said, 'Lu has few learned ones.'

Duke Ai said, 'There are men wearing the dress of learned scholars throughout the state of Lu. How can you say there are few?'

Chuang Tzu said, 'I have heard that those learned ones who wear round caps on their heads, know the seasons of Heaven; those who wear square shoes know the shape of the Earth; those who tie semi-circular disks to their belts deal perfectly with all that comes before them. But a nobleman can follow the Tao without having to dress the part. Indeed, he might wear the dress but not understand the Tao at all! Should my Lord not be sure on this point, why not issue an order of state saying, "Any wearing the dress but not practising the Tao will be executed!"'

This is exactly what Duke Ai did, and five days later throughout the kingdom of Lu not a single learned one wore the dress! Only one old man wore the dress of the learned and stood at the Duke's gate. The Duke immediately called him in and discussed the affairs of the kingdom with him, and though they went through a thousand issues and tens of thousands of digressions, the old man was never at a loss.

Chuang Tzu said, 'So, in the whole kingdom of Lu there is just this one man who is among the learned ones. How can you claim there are many?'

PART 12
Do Not Ask about the Tao

Knowledge strolled north to the shores of the Dark Waters, scaled the mount of Secret Heights and came upon Words-of-Actionless-Action. Knowledge said to Words-of-Actionless-Action, 'I want to ask you something. What sort of thought and reflection does it take to know the Tao? In what sort of place and in what sorts of ways should we undertake to rest in the Tao? What sort of path and what sort of plans do we need to obtain the Tao?' These three questions he asked of Words-of-Actionless-Action, but he did not answer. Not only did he not answer, he had no idea what to answer.

Knowledge did not obtain any answers, so he travelled to the White Waters of the south, climbed up on to the top of Doubt Curtailed and there caught sight of Wild-and-Surly. Knowledge put the same question to Wild-and-Surly. Wild-and-Surly said, 'Ah ha! I know, and I will tell you.' In the middle of saying this, he forgot what he was going to say!

Knowledge did not obtain any answers, so he went back to the Emperor's palace to see the Yellow Emperor and to ask him. The Yellow Emperor said, 'Practise having no thoughts and no reflections and you will come to know the Tao. Only when you have no place and can see no way forward will you find rest in the Tao. Have no path and no plans and you will obtain the Tao.'

Knowledge said to the Yellow Emperor, 'You and I know this, but the others did not know, so which of us is actually right?'

The Yellow Emperor said, 'Words-of-Actionless-Action was truly right. Wild-and-Surly seems right. In the end, you and I are not close to it.

'Those who understand, do not say.

Those who say, do not understand.

And so the sage follows the teachings without words.

The Tao cannot be made to occur,

Virtue cannot be sought after.

However, benevolence can be undertaken,
righteousness can be striven for,
rituals can be adhered to.

It is said, "When the Tao was lost, Virtue appeared;
when Virtue was lost, benevolence appeared;
when benevolence was lost, righteousness appeared;
when righteousness was lost, ritual appeared.

Rituals are just the frills on the hem of the Tao, and are signs of impending disorder."

'It is said, "One who follows the Tao daily does less and less. As he does less and less, he eventually arrives at actionless action. Having achieved actionless action, there is nothing which is not done." Now that we have become active, if we wish to return to our original state, we will find it very difficult! Who but the great man could change this?

'Life follows death and death is the forerunner of life.

Who can know their ways?

Human life begins with the original breath;

When it comes together there is life,

When it is dispersed, there is death.'

[...]

Confucius said to Lao Tzu, 'Now, today, you seem relaxed, so I would like to ask about the perfect Tao.'

Lao Tzu said, 'You should cleanse and purify your heart through fasting and austerities, wash your spirit to make it clean and repress your knowledge. The Tao is profound and almost impossible to describe! I will attempt to offer some understanding of it:

'The brightly shining is born from the deeply dark;
that which is orderly is born from the formless;
the spiritual is born from the Tao;
the roots of the body are born from the seminal essence;
all forms of life give each other shape through birth.

Those with nine apertures are born from the womb,
while those with eight are born from eggs.

Of its coming there is no trace,
no sign of its departure,
neither entering the gate nor dwelling anywhere,
open to all the four directions.

Those who travel with the Tao will be strong in body,
sincere and profound in their thought,
clear of sight and hearing,
using their hearts without tiring,
responding to all without prejudice.

As a result of this, Heaven is high and Earth wide,
the sun and moon move and everything flourishes.

This is the Tao!

'Even the broadest knowledge does not comprehend it.

Reason does not mean wisdom, so the sage casts these aside.

There is something which is complete, no matter what you add;
is not diminished, no matter what you take away.

This is what the sage holds to.

It is as the ocean, deeply deep,
as the mountains, high and proud,
its end is its beginning,
it carries all forms of life and never fails.

The Tao of the nobleman is just external garb!

That which sustains all forms of life and never falters,
this is the true Tao!'

[...]

Great Purity asked Endless, 'Sir, do you know the Tao?'

'I do not know it,' said Endless.

Then he asked Actionless Action, who replied, 'I know the Tao.'

'Sir,' asked Great Purity, 'about your knowledge of the Tao, do you have some special hints?'

'I have.'

'What are they?'

Actionless Action said, 'I know that the Tao can elevate and bring low, bind together and separate. These are the hints I would give you to know the Tao.'

With these different answers Great Purity went to No Beginning and said, 'Between Endless's statement that he doesn't know, and Actionless Action's statement that he does know, I am left wondering which of these is right and which is wrong.'

No Beginning said, 'Not to know is profound and to know is shallow. To be without knowledge is to be inward, to know is to be outward.'

Then indeed did Great Purity cast his eyes upward and sigh, 'Not to know is to know and to know is not to know! Who knows about not knowing about knowing?'

No Beginning said:

'The Tao cannot be heard: what is heard is not the Tao.

The Tao cannot be seen: what can be seen is not the Tao.

The Tao cannot be spoken: what is spoken is not the Tao.

Do we know what form gives form to the formless?

The Tao has no name.'

No Beginning continued:

'To be questioned about the Tao and to give an answer means that you don't know the Tao.

'One who asks about the Tao has never understood anything about the Tao.

'Do not ask about the Tao, for the asking is not appropriate, nor can the question be answered, because it is like asking those in dire extremity. To answer what cannot be answered is to show no inner understanding. When someone without inner understanding waits for an answer from those in dire extremity, they illustrate that they neither grasp where they stand outwardly nor understand the great Beginning within. So they cannot cross the Kun Lun mountains nor wander in the great Void.'

[...]

Nan Jung Chu gathered his provisions and set off, and after seven days and seven nights he arrived at the home of Lao Tzu.

'Have you come from Chu?' said Lao Tzu, and Nan Jung Chu replied, 'I have.'

'So, Sir, why have you brought this great crowd of other people with you?' Nan Jung Chu spun round and looked behind him in astonishment.

'Sir, don't you understand what I am saying?' said Lao Tzu.

Nan Jung Chu hung his head in shame and then looked up, sighed and said, 'Now I can't remember what to say in response and have therefore also forgotten what I was going to ask.'

'What are you saying?' said Lao Tzu.

'Do I have any understanding?' said Nan Jung Chu. 'People will call me a fool. Do I understand? This just upsets me. If I am not benevolent, then I distress others. If I am benevolent, then I distress myself. If I am not righteous, then I harm others. If I am righteous, then I upset myself. How can I get out of all this? These three issues perplex me, so following Chu's instructions I have come to ask you about them.'

Lao Tzu replied, 'Just now I looked deep into your eyes and I could see what sort of a person you are. What you have just said convinces me I am right. You are bewildered and confused, as if you had lost your father and mother and were looking for them using a pole to reach the bottom of the sea. You are lost and frightened. You want to rediscover your self and your innate nature but you haven't a clue how to set about this. What a sorry state you are in!'

Nan Jung Chu asked to be allowed to go into his room. He sought to develop the good and rid himself of the bad. After ten days of misery he came out and went to see Lao Tzu again.

'I can see that you have been washing and purifying yourself thoroughly,' said Lao Tzu, 'but you are still impure despite the outward cleanliness. Something is stirring inside you and there is still something rotten within. Outside influences will press upon you and you will find it impossible to control them. It is wiser to shut the gate of your inner self against them. Likewise, when interior influences disturb you and you find it impossible to control them, then shut the gate of your self so as to keep them in. To struggle against both the outside and inside influences is more than even one who follows the Tao and its Virtue can control, so how much more difficult it is for one who is just starting out along the Tao.'

Nan Jung Chu said, 'A villager fell ill and his neighbour asked how he was. He was able to describe his illness, even though he had never suffered from it before. When I ask you about the great Tao, it is like drinking medicine that makes me feel worse than before. I would like to know about the normal method for protecting one's life, that is all.'

'The basic way of protecting life - can you embrace the One?' said Lao Tzu. 'Can you hold it fast? Can you tell good from bad fortune without using the divination of the tortoise shell or the yarrow sticks? Do you know when to stop? Do you know when to desist? Can you forget others and concentrate upon your inner self? Can you escape lures? Can you be sincere? Can you be a little baby? The baby cries all day long but its throat never becomes hoarse: that indeed is perfect harmony. The baby clenches its fists all day long but never gets cramp, it holds fast to Virtue. The baby stares all day long but it is not affected by what is outside it. It moves without knowing where, it sits without knowing where it is sitting, it is quietly placid and rides the flow of events. This is how to protect life.'

'So this is what it takes to be a perfect man?' said Nan Jung Chu.

'Indeed no. This is what is known as the melting of the ice, the dissolving of the cold. Are you up to it? The perfect man is as one with others in seeking his food from the Earth and his joy from Heaven. However, he remains detached from consideration of profit and gain from others, does not get embroiled in plots and schemes nor in grandiose projects. Alert and unceasing he goes, simple and unpretentious he comes. This indeed is called the way to protect life.'

'So it is this which is his perfection?'

'Not quite,' replied Lao Tzu. 'Just now I asked you, "Can you become a little baby?" The baby acts without knowing why and moves without knowing where. Its body is like a rotting branch and its heart is like cold ashes. Being like this, neither bad fortune will affect it nor good fortune draw near. Having neither bad fortune nor good, it is not affected by the misfortune that comes to most others!'

[...]

There is a saying:

'Perfect behaviour does not discriminate amongst people;
perfect righteousness takes no account of things;
perfect knowledge makes no plans;
perfect benevolence exhibits no emotion;
perfect faith makes no oath of sincerity.'

Suppress the whims of the will and untie the mistakes of the heart.

Expunge the knots of Virtue,
unblock the flow of the Tao.

Honours and wealth,
distinctions and authority,
fame and gain,
these six are formed by the illusions of the will.

Looks and style,
beauty and reason,
thrill of life and memories,
these six are the faults of the heart.

Hatred and desire,
joy and anger,
sadness and happiness,
these six are the knots of Virtue.

Rejection and acceptance,
giving and taking,
knowledge and ability,
these six are the impediments to the free flow of the Tao.

When these four sets of six no longer trouble the breast,
then you will be centred.

Being centred, you will be calm.

Being calm, you will be enlightened.

Being enlightened, you will be empty.

Being empty, you will be in actionless action,

But with actionless action nothing remains undone.

The Tao is the centrepiece of the devotions of Virtue.

Life is the brightness of Virtue.

Innate nature is what motivates life.

[...]

Chuang Tzu's family were poor so he went to borrow some rice from the Marquis of Chien Ho. The Marquis of Chien Ho said, 'Of course. I am about to receive the tax from the people and will give you three hundred pieces of gold - is that enough?'

Chuang Tzu flushed with anger and said, 'On my way here yesterday I heard a voice calling me. I looked around and saw a large fish in the carriage rut. I said, "Fish! What are you doing there?" He said, "I am Minister of the Waves in the Eastern Ocean. Sire, do you have a measure of water you could give me?" Well, I told him, "I am going south to visit the Kings of Wu and Yueh and after that I would redirect the course of the Western River so it will flow up to you. Would that do?" The large fish flushed with anger and said, "I am out of my very element, I have nowhere to go. Give me just a little water and I can survive. But giving me such an answer as that means you will only ever find me again on a dried fish stall!"'

[...]

The great One knows,
the great mystery reveals,
the great yin observes,
the great eye sees,
the great equal is the origin,
the great skill creates it,
the great trust touches it,
the great judge holds fast to it.

Heaven is in everything: follow the light, hide in the cloudiness and begin in what is. Do this and your understanding will be like not understanding and your wisdom will be like not being wise. By not being wise you will become wise later. When you ask questions, set no limits, even though they cannot be limitless. Although things seem to be sometimes going up and sometimes descending, sometimes slipping away, nevertheless there is a reality, the same today as in the past. It does not change, for nothing can affect it. Could we not say it is one great harmony? So why shouldn't we ask about it and why are you so confused? If we use that which does not confuse to understand that which does confuse, then we can come back to that which does not confuse. This will be the great unconfusing.

[...]

'The four seasons each have their own original life,
and Heaven does not discriminate,
so the cycle is fulfilled.

The five government offices have different roles,
but the ruler does not discriminate,
so the state is well run.

The great man does not discriminate
between war and peace,
so his Virtue is perfect.

All the forms of life are different,
but the Tao does not discriminate,
so it has no name.

Being nameless, it is also actionless action,
yet all life occurs.

The seasons end and begin;
the generations change and transform.

Inauspicious and auspicious fortune falls upon you,
sometimes unwelcomed,
other times welcomed.

Settle into your own views,
argue with others,
at times condemn those who are upright,
then those who are bent.

You should be like a great marsh land
with space for a hundred kinds of trees.

Or be like a great mountain
where the trees and grasses rest on the same ground.

This is what is meant by Talk of the Villages.'

PART 13
Can I Ask You about Truth?

In the past King Wen of Chao loved swords. Specialists came to his gate, over three thousand of them, all experts in swordsmanship. They were his guests. Day and night they fought before him until the dead or wounded each year were more than a hundred. But the King never ceased to be delighted at watching them. This went on for three years, then the country began to fall apart and the other princes began to plot its overthrow.

Crown Prince Kuei was distressed by this, and he presented the situation to his followers:

'If there is anyone here who can persuade the King to put away these swordsmen, I will give him a thousand pieces of gold,' he said. His followers replied,

'Chuang Tzu can do this.'

The Crown Prince sent an ambassador with a thousand pieces of gold to Chuang Tzu. Chuang Tzu refused the gold but returned with the ambassador. He came in to see the Crown Prince and said, 'Oh Prince, what is it you wish to tell me that you send me a thousand pieces of gold?'

'I have heard, Sir, that you are an illustrious sage,' said the Crown Prince. 'The gift of a thousand pieces of gold was a gift for your attendants. However, you have refused to accept this, so what more dare I say?'

Chuang Tzu said, 'I have heard that the Crown Prince wants to use me to help the King give up his abiding passion. If in trying to do so I upset the King and fail to achieve what you hope for, then I might be executed. So what use would the gold be to me then? Or, if I could get the King to give up, and fulfil your hopes, what is there in this whole kingdom of Chao that I could not ask for and be given?'

'You're right,' said the Crown Prince. 'However the King will only see swordsmen.'

'That's all right. I'm quite good with a sword,' replied Chuang Tzu.

'Fair enough,' said the Crown Prince, 'but the swordsmen the King sees are all tousle-headed with spiky beards, wearing loose caps held on with simple, rough straps and robes that are cut short behind. They look about them fiercely and talk only of their sport. The King loves all this. Now, if you go in wearing your scholar's garb you will start off on completely the wrong foot.'

'With your permission I will get a full swordsman's outfit,' said Chuang Tzu.

Within three days he had got this and returned to see the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince took him to see the King, who drew his sword and sat waiting for him. Chuang Tzu walked slowly into the hall through the main door. When he saw the King, he did not bow.

'What instruction have you for me, that you have persuaded the Crown Prince about beforehand?' demanded the King.

'I have heard that the King likes swords and so I have brought my sword for the King to see.'

'What use is your sword in combat?'

'My sword can kill one person every ten paces, and after a thousand miles it is not faltering.'

The King was pleased and said, 'There can be no one else like you under Heaven!'

'A fine swordsman opens with a feint then gives ground, following up with a cut, stalling his opponent before he can react,' replied Chuang Tzu. 'I would like to show you my skills.'

'Rest awhile in your rooms, Master, and await my commands,' said the King. 'I shall make arrangements for the contest and I will call you.'

The King spent the next seven days testing his swordsmen. More than sixty died or were severely wounded, leaving five or six who were selected and commanded to present themselves in the hall. Then he called in Chuang Tzu and said, 'Now, this very day I shall pit you against these men to show your skills.'

'I have longed for such an opportunity,' said Chuang Tzu.

'Sir, what sort of sword will you choose, long or short?' asked the King.

'Any kind will do,' said Chuang Tzu, 'but I have three swords, any of which I could use if the King agrees. But first I would like to say something about them and then use them.'

'I would like to hear about these three swords,' said the King.

'I have the sword of the Son of Heaven, the sword of the noble Prince and the sword of the commoner,' said Chuang Tzu.

'What is this sword of the Son of Heaven?'

'The Son of Heaven's sword has as its point the Valley of Yen, and the Great Wall and Chi and Tai mountains as its blade edge. Chin and Wey are its ridge, Chou and Sung are its hilt and Han and Wei its sheath. On all four sides it is surrounded by barbarians and it is wrapped in the four seasons. The Sea of Po encompasses it and the eternal mountains of Chang are its belt. The five elements control it and it enacts what punishment and compassion dictate. It comes out in obedience to yin and yang, stands alert in spring and summer and goes into action in autumn and winter. Thrust forward, there is nothing in front of it; lift it high, and there is nothing above it; swing it low, and there is nothing below it; spin it around, there is nothing encompassing it. Raised high, it cleaves the firmaments; swung low, it severs the very veins of the Earth. Use this sword but once and all the rulers revert to obedience; all below Heaven submit. This is the sword of the Son of Heaven.'

King Wen was astonished and seemed to have forgotten everything else.

'What of the sword of the noble Prince?' he asked.

Chuang Tzu said, 'The sword of the noble Prince, its point is sagacious and courageous people; its blade is those of integrity and sincerity; its ridge is those of worth and goodness; its hilt is those who are trustworthy and wise; its sheath is of the brave and outstanding. When this sword is thrust forward, it encounters nothing; when wielded high, it has nothing above it; when swung low, it has nothing below it; when swirled about, it finds nothing near it. Above, its guidance comes from Heaven and it proceeds with the three great lights. Below, it is inspired by the square, stable nature of the earth, proceeding with the flow of the four seasons. In the middle lands it restores harmony to the people and is in balance with the four directions. Use this sword but once and it is like hearing the crash of thunder. Within the four borders everyone obeys the laws and everyone attends to the orders of the ruler. This is the sword of the noble Prince.'

'What of the sword of the commoner?'

'The sword of the commoner is used by those who are tousle-haired with spiky beards, wearing loose caps held on by ordinary coarse cords, with their robes cut short behind. They stare about them fiercely and will only talk about their swordsmanship while fighting before the King. Raised high, it cuts through the neck; swung low, it slices into the liver and lungs. The people who use the sword of the commoner are no better than fighting cocks who at any time can have their lives curtailed. They are useless to the state. Now you, O King, have the position of the Son of Heaven but you make yourself unworthy by associating with the sword of the commoner. This is what I dare to say.'

The King brought him up into his hall where the butler presented a tray of food, while the King strode three times round the room.

'Sire, sit down and calm yourself,' said Chuang Tzu. 'Whatever there was to say about swords has been said.'

Following this, King Wen did not go out for three months and all his swordsmen killed themselves in their own rooms.

[...]

Confucius wandered through the Black Curtain Forest and sat down beside the Apricot Tree Altar. His followers started reading their books while Confucius played his lute and sang. He was not even halfway through the song when a fisherman stepped out of his boat and came towards him. His beard and eyebrows were white and his hair was wild, while his sleeves hung down beside him. He walked up the slopes until he reached the drier ground and then stopped, resting his left hand on his knee and his chin in his right hand, and listened until the song was over. Then he called over Tzu Kung and Tzu Lu and the two of them went to him.

'Who is that?' he said, pointing at Confucius.

'He is a nobleman from Lu,' replied Tzu Lu.

The fisherman then enquired as to Confucius' family. Tzu Lu replied, 'The family of Kung.'

'What does this man of Kung do for a living?'

Tzu Lu was working out what to say when Tzu Kung replied, saying, 'This man of the Kung family in his innate nature holds fast to loyalty and faithfulness; in his behaviour he shows benevolence and righteousness; he makes the rituals and music beautiful, and balances human relationships. He pays respect above him to the ruler of his generation and in his dealings with those below him he tries to transform the ordinary people, as he wants to bless the whole world. This is what this man of the Kung family does.'

The fisherman enquired further, 'Does he have any land over which he rules?'

'No,' said Tzu Kung.

'Is he an adviser to a king?'

'No.'

The stranger laughed and backed away, saying, 'So benevolence is benevolence, yet he won't escape without harm to himself. Exhausting the heart and wearing out the body puts his true nature in jeopardy. Sadly, I believe he is far removed from the Tao.'

Tzu Kung went up and told Confucius about this. Confucius laid aside his flute and stood up, saying, 'Maybe he is a sage!' and he went down the slope to find him. He reached the water's edge as the fisherman was about to pole away. Seeing Confucius, he poled back again and confronted him. Confucius stepped back somewhat hastily, bowed twice and went forward.

'What do you want, Sir?' said the stranger.

'Just now, Master, you said a few words but didn't finish,' said Confucius. 'Being unworthy, I do not understand them. So I would like to be with you and to hear even just the sounds of your words in the hope that they might enlighten me!'

'Oh-ho, you have a good love of study, Sir!'

Confucius bowed twice and stood up. 'Ever since I was little I have pursued study, and now here I am sixty-nine years old, yet I have never heard the perfect teaching, so what can I do but keep my heart open?'

The stranger said, 'Like seeks like and each note responds to its own. This is the boundary established by Heaven. I will not discuss that which concerns me, but will concentrate on what you need to know about. You, Sir, are wrapped up in the affairs of the people. The Son of Heaven, the noble princes, the great ministers and the common folk, when these four groups do what is right, there is the beauty of unity. If these four groups break apart, then there is terrible great disorder. If ministers do what they should and the ordinary people are concerned with what they do, then no one infringes upon another.

'Fields in ruin, leaking roofs, lack of food and clothing, unjust taxes, disputes between wives and concubines, disorder between the young and the old, these are what trouble the common folk.

'Inability to do the job, being bored by their work, bad behaviour, carelessness and laziness in those below, failure to succeed, insecurity in employment, these are what trouble the great ministers.

'Lack of loyal ministers, civil war in the kingdom, workmen with no skills, tributes that are worthless, poor positioning at the spring and autumn gatherings, the disquiet of the ruler, these are what trouble the noble princes.

'Yin and yang out of harmony, fluctuations in heat and cold which damage all, oppression and rebellion by nobles, all leading to uprisings, ravage and abuse of the people, the rituals badly performed, the treasury empty, social relationships in turmoil and the people debauched, these are what trouble the Son of Heaven and his people.

'Now, Sir, at the higher end of the scale, you are not a ruler, nor a noble nor even a minister in a court, while at the other end you are not in the office of a great minister with all his portfolios. Nevertheless, you have decided to bring beauty to the rituals and the music and to balance human relationships and thus to reform the ordinary people. Isn't this rather overdoing it?

'Furthermore, there are eight defects that people are liable to, as well as four evils that affect their affairs, which must not be ignored:

'To be involved with affairs that are not yours is to be overbearing.

'To draw attention to yourself when no one wants you is to be intrusive.

'To suck up to someone with speeches designed to please is to be sycophantic.

'Not to distinguish between good and evil in what others say is to be a flatterer.

'To gossip about other's failings is to be slanderous.

'To separate friends and families is to be malevolent.

'To give false praise in order to hurt others is to be wicked.

'Having no concern for right or wrong, but to be two-faced in order to find out what others know, is to be treacherous.

'These eight defects cause disorder to others and harm to the perpetrator. A nobleman will not befriend one who has them, nor will an enlightened ruler appoint such a person to be a minister.

'With regard to the four evils of which I spoke, they are:

'Ambition - To be fond of taking on vast enterprises, altering and changing the old traditions, thus hoping that you can increase your fame and standing.

'Greediness - To be a know-all and to try and get everything done your way, seizing what others do and claiming it as your own.

'Obstinacy - To see your errors without doing anything to change them and to persist in doing things the wrong way.

'Bigotry - To smile upon someone who agrees with you but when that person disagrees, to disown and despise them.

'These are the four evils. If you can cast aside the eight defects and avoid the four evils, then you are at a point where it is possible to be taught.'

Confucius looked sad and sighed, bowed twice, stood up and said, 'Lu has exiled me twice, I have fled from Wei, they have felled a tree on me in Sung and laid siege to me between Chen and Tsai. I have no idea what I did to be so misunderstood. Why was I subject to these four forms of trouble?'

The stranger looked distressed, then his expression changed and he said, 'It is very difficult, Sir, to make you understand! There was once a man who was frightened by his own shadow and scared of his own footprints, so he tried to escape them by running away. But every time he lifted his foot and brought it down, he made more footprints, and no matter how fast he ran, his shadow never left him. Thinking he was running too slowly, he ran faster, never ceasing until finally he exhausted himself and collapsed and died. He had no idea that by simply sitting in the shade he would have lost his shadow, nor that by resting quietly he would cease making footprints. He really was a great fool!

'You, Sir, try to distinguish the spheres of benevolence and righteousness, to explore the boundaries between agreement and disagreement, to study changes between rest and movement, to pontificate on giving and receiving, to order what is to be approved of and what disapproved of, to unify the limits of joy and anger, and yet you have barely escaped calamity. If you were to be serious in your cultivation of your own self, careful to guard the truth and willing to allow others to be as they are, then you could have avoided such problems. However, here you are, unable to cultivate yourself yet determined to improve others. Are you not obsessed with external things?'

Confucius, really cast down, said, 'Can I ask you about truth?'

'True truth is simple purity at its most perfect,' replied the stranger. 'To be without purity, to be without sincerity means you cannot move other people. So if you fake mourning and weeping, then no matter how thoroughly you do this, it's not real grief. If you make yourself act angry, even if you sound very fierce, this won't inspire awe. If you force yourself to be affectionate, no matter how much you smile, you cannot create harmony. True grief may make no sound but is really sorrowful; true anger, even if there is no manifestation of it, creates awe; true affection doesn't even need to smile but creates harmony. When someone has truth within, it affects his external spirit, which is why truth is so important.

PART 14
Epilogue

Chuang Tzu said, 'To know the Tao is easy, not to speak about it is hard. Knowing and not saying, this is to aspire to the Heavenly. Knowing and saying, this is to be subject to the human element. In the past people paid attention to the Heavenly, not to the human.'

[...]

A man from Sung, called Tsao Shang, was sent by the King of Sung as an ambassador to the state of Chin. When he left Sung he was given only a few carriages. However, the King of Chin was so delighted with him that he gave him a hundred more. On returning to Sung he met Chuang Tzu and said, 'Living in poor streets of an impoverished village, making sandals and starving, with a shrivelled neck and a sickly face, this I cannot stand! But being in the confidence of a ruler of ten thousand chariots and being given a hundred of them, this I enjoy and am good at.'

Chuang Tzu said, 'Well now. When the King of Chin falls ill, he summons his doctor who lances the ulcer or squeezes the boil and as a reward receives one carriage. The doctor who applies a suppository gets five carriages. The lower down the service, the more carriages given. So, Sir, I assume you must at least have been licking his piles to have been given so many carriages? Be gone, Sir!'

[...]

Someone offered Chuang Tzu a court post. Chuang Tzu answered the messenger, 'Sir, have you ever seen a sacrificial ox? It is decked in fine garments and fed on fresh grass and beans. However, when it is led into the Great Temple, even though it most earnestly might wish to be a simple calf again, it's now impossible!'

Chuang Tzu was dying and his followers wanted to provide a glorious funeral. Chuang Tzu said, 'I will have Heaven and Earth as my shroud and coffin; the sun and moon as my symbols of jade; the stars for my pearls and jewels; all the forms of life as my mourners. I have everything for my funeral, what is there missing? What more could I need?'

His followers said, 'We are worried, Master, that the crows and kites will eat you.'

'Above ground I shall be eaten by crows and kites,' said Chuang Tzu, 'and below ground by worms and ants. Aren't you just being rather partisan in wanting to feed only one of these groups, so depriving the others?

'Trying to use what isn't equal to produce equality is to be equally unequal. Trying to prove something by something uncertain is only certain to make things uncertain. The person whose eyesight is clear and thinks he understands is victim to these sights, whereas the one who is guided by the spirit perceives the reality. That there is a difference between what we see with our eyes and what we know through our spirit is a wisdom from long ago. But the fool relies upon his eyes and loses himself in what is merely human, and everything he does is just a façade - how sad!'

[...]

'The blank and the motionless have no form;
change and transformation are never at rest;
what is death?

what is life?

what is the companionship of Heaven and Earth?

where does the spirit of clarity go?

when forgotten, what becomes of it?

All forms of life are gathered around us, yet none of them is our destination. In the past people thought this was the way of the Tao. Chuang Tzu heard of these ideas and was pleased. He taught them using strange and mysterious expressions, wild and extraordinary phrases, and terms which had no precise meaning. He taught what he believed, yet was never partisan, nor did he view things from just one perspective. He saw the whole world as lost in foolishness and thus incapable of understanding anything sensible.

References

These extracts are taken from the Penguin Classics edition of The Book of Chuang Tzu. Part 1 is from chapter 2; part 2 from chapters 3, 4 and 5; part 3 from chapter 6; part 4 from chapters 7 and 8; part 5 from chapters 1, 5, 17, 18, 24 and 26; part 6 from chapter 9; part 7 from chapters 10 and 11; part 8 from chapters 11, 12 and 13; part 9 from chapters 14 and 16; part 10 from chapters 17 and 18; part 11 from chapters 19, 20 and 21; part 12 from chapters 22, 23, 24 and 26; part 13 from chapter 30 and 31; part 14 from chapters 32 and 33.

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
恐惧和战栗
前言
序幕
亚伯拉罕颂
问题
源自内心的引言
问题一　可以从目的论角度上暂时停用伦理吗？
问题二　对上帝有一种绝对的义务吗？

问题三　亚伯拉罕对撒拉、以利亚撒和以撒隐瞒自己的目的，这在伦理上合乎情理吗？

后记
Fear and Trembling
Preface
Attunement
Speech in Praise of Abraham
Problemata
Preamble from the Heart
Problema Ⅰ
Problema Ⅱ
Problema Ⅲ
Epilogue
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

恐惧和战栗

（英汉双语）

［丹麦］索伦·克尔凯郭尔　著

［英］阿拉斯泰尔·汉内　英译

张卓娟　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

恐惧和战栗：英汉双语／（丹）克尔凯郭尔著；张卓娟译．

—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3885-3

Ⅰ．①恐…　Ⅱ．①克…　②张…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②哲学理论—丹麦—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4:B

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2014）第000520号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2014-2191号）

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
www.penguin.com

Taken from Penguin Classics edition of Fear and Trembling,

Translated and introduced by Alastair Hannay

Translation copyright ⓒ Alastair Hannay, 1985

All rights reserved

出版发行／中国对外翻译出版有限公司

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出版策划／张高里

责任编辑／梁　斐　杨　娟

封面设计／卢　涛

排　　版／竹叶图文

印　　刷／保定市中画美凯印刷有限公司

规　　格／760×940毫米　1/32

印　　张／9.5

版　　次／2014年4月第一版

印　　次／2014年4月第一次

ISBN 978-7-5001-3885-3　定价：22.00元

“企鹅”及相关标识是企鹅图书有限公司已经注册或尚未注册的商标。

未经允许，不得擅用。

中国对外翻译出版有限公司与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

索伦·克尔凯郭尔（1813—1855），丹麦人，享年四十二岁，在他短暂的一生里，创作了二十多部宗教哲学巨著。他用丹麦语写作，和安徒生是同一时代的人，却没有像安徒生那样享有盛名。在他身前，其著作知者甚少，但在二十世纪，在他去世多年之后，他的作品逐渐得到关注，并引起了一场影响深远的思想革命，产生了一种新的哲学思想，即存在主义。在当代思想家看来，克尔凯郭尔是一位伟大的天才，他被公认为存在主义哲学之父，其哲学家地位可以和尼采相提并论，还被誉为与弗洛伊德齐名的后精神分析大师。

克尔凯郭尔这位天才度过了短暂、孤独、不为人知的一生。他在幼年时期就被父亲不断地灌输宗教思想，就连他的名字——克尔凯郭尔（Kierkegaard）——都打上了宗教的烙印，因为它在丹麦语中有教堂园地和墓地的意思。这种严格的宗教教育使这位哲学家深受“要敬畏上帝”这样的思想的影响。正是这种思想使他在辛苦追求女友雷金娜·奥尔森（Regine Olsen）三年，并已经举行了订婚仪式之后，又解除了婚约，因为他内心感到上帝不认可这个婚姻。这之后不久，他开始了他的写作生涯，以“沉默的约翰尼斯”（John the Silent）这个假名于1843年发表了一部影响深远的哲学巨著——《恐惧和战栗》。克尔凯郭尔写该书的目的是想要理解当上帝考验亚伯拉罕，让他把儿子带到摩利亚山去献祭时，亚伯拉罕所感到的焦虑，想要理解亚伯拉罕在信仰和伦理相悖时所感到的恐惧和战栗。很多人认为《恐惧和战栗》是哲学性的，但也有专家认为该著作是自传性的，把它看作是克尔凯郭尔努力度过失去未婚妻雷金娜这一难关的一种方式。若从自传的意义上解读《恐惧和战栗》中讨论的故事，那么，克尔凯郭尔就是其中的亚伯拉罕，而雷金娜就是其中的以撒。

《恐惧和战栗》以圣经里亚伯拉罕杀子故事为线索，来探讨信仰和伦理的冲突。对于上帝要求亚伯拉罕杀死儿子以撒作祭品这个任务，亚伯拉罕可以选择完成它或是忘记它。但是他选择笃信上帝，放弃自己最珍贵的东西——儿子，去完成这项艰巨无比的任务。他选择不告诉妻子撒拉，默默地带着儿子以撒踏上了三天半的行程。在到达上帝指定的献祭地点之后，他默默地劈柴点火，捆住以撒，痛苦却又决绝地对儿子拔刀相向。正在此时，上帝派的天使飞来，拦住亚伯拉罕，告诉他说这是上帝对他的考验。经受了这一残酷考验之后，亚伯拉罕被上帝授命为他世间的代理人，他的世世代代都受到神的庇佑。

在克尔凯郭尔看来，亚伯拉罕向上帝祭献儿子体现了信仰和伦理之间的悖论，人们在面对这样的悖论时，感受到的必然是恐惧与战栗。而勇敢面对这个悖论使亚伯拉罕被视为既是谋杀者又是信仰伟人。在对这个悖论的探讨中，克尔凯郭尔提出了三个问题：可以从目的论意义上暂时停止从伦理角度看问题吗？对上帝有一种绝对的义务吗？亚伯拉罕对撒拉，以利亚撒和以撒隐瞒自己的目的，这在伦理上合乎情理吗？其实这三个问题本质上就是信仰和伦理之间的悖论问题。亚伯拉罕在面对这个悖论时，进行了双重运动——“无限放弃的运动”（他无限决绝地放弃了以撒，准备杀子）和“信仰的运动”（他同时又认为他献出以撒是表现出对儿子和对上帝的爱，凭此信仰他将不一定会失去以撒，上帝会让他重新得到儿子）——因此，他被视为是伟大之人，信仰之父。克尔凯郭尔将基督徒分为了无限放弃骑士（放弃伦理自我，放弃普遍性的基督徒）和信仰骑士（相信上帝的允诺，相信上帝不会拿走一切，相信自己凭借信仰可以重新得到一切的基督徒）两类。他用他敏锐的辩证智慧带领读者思考亚伯拉罕献祭儿子，阿伽门农痛苦弃绝爱女，人鱼诱惑纯洁美女等故事中所体现的信仰价值与伦理价值以及审美价值之间的冲突，思考个人的个体性服从于伦理的普遍性，与个体性因更高的目的而高于普遍性之间的不同，从而理解亚伯拉罕作为信仰骑士区别于仍处于伦理范围之内的悲剧英雄的神圣之处。

笔者在翻译《恐惧和战栗》这部天才巨著时，诚惶诚恐，也可以说翻译过程充满着“恐惧和战栗”。首先，笔者查阅了关于克尔凯郭尔的传记，同时查阅了圣经里关于亚伯拉罕和与他有关的人物的各种故事，以及《恐惧和战栗》中所涉及的各种典故，力求达到对原著的精确理解。但是，原著是丹麦文，后来被翻译成德文和英文，半个世纪以来，对原著的英文翻译有数个版本，但都显得有些晦涩难懂。因此，笔者在翻译阿拉斯泰尔·汉内的这个英译本时，为了更准确地翻译出原著意思，还参阅了其他英译本。在此基础上，笔者殚精竭虑翻译了多半年，也在翻译过程中经受了书中伟大的思想的洗涤。阅读《恐惧和战栗》可以引发读者对我们这个信仰缺失的时代、对个体性存在的问题进行深刻的思考，从而获益匪浅。

还有一点要做说明的是，由于原作者为了对被称为信仰之父的亚伯拉罕的故事做严谨而又充满激情的表述，有时在文中用了大量的排比长句，甚至有一处长达几页。译者在尽量避免拘泥于原句句式和翻译腔的同时，也尽量译成排比长句，以求最大限度地达到翻译所讲求的“信、达、雅”标准。

译文中错误和疏漏之处在所难免，真诚欢迎读者批评指正。

恐惧和战栗

骄傲的塔奎因在他的花园里借罂粟花所说的话，他儿子领会了，但那个信使却没明白。

——哈曼

前　言

我们当今这个时代，人们无论是在商业界还是思想界都在进行一场十足的清仓大甩卖。一切都可以如此廉价地贱卖，使人开始思考最终是否会有人想出价。每个认真记录并指引人们关注现代哲学重要趋势的思索者，每一个讲师，临时抱佛脚的应考者，学生，每个处在研究哲学边缘或主流的人，都不愿止步于怀疑一切事物。他们都要更进一步地走下去。或许，询问他们认为自己正去往何处有些不合时宜，尽管我们可以出于客气恭敬，理所当然地认为他们的确已经怀疑一切事物，否则说继续前行就会有些奇怪。他们都已做了这一初步的工作，并且可能轻而易举地做完了，以至他们觉得没有必要解释如何做的。因为，对于如何着手完成这样庞大的任务，即便是那种真诚地想在此问题上渴求一点启迪的人，也没有找到任何解释，连一个指明方向的引导或一个小小的日常方法都没有。“但是，笛卡尔是做了的，对吧？”笛卡尔，一个受人崇敬、谦恭诚实的思想家，他的著作人人读了都深受震撼感奋。他确实言出必行，言行一致。这样的事情在我们这个时代十分罕见。笛卡尔是一个在信仰上绝不会怀疑的人。正如他自己一再表明的那样，［“但是我们必须记着已经说过的话，并且要谨记只能依赖于良知，只要这良知不违背上帝的旨意……最重要的是，我们要铭记一条绝对正确的真理，那就是，上帝给我们所显示的旨意，与任何其他事物相比，都是无可比拟的确定无疑。即便我们的理智之光似乎极为清楚确凿地揭示出与上帝指示相反的事物，我们也应当服从神圣的权威，而不是相信自己的判断”（《哲学原则》第28和第76原则）。］笛卡尔并没有大叫着“着火了！着火了！”以使怀疑成为每个人的义务，因为他是一位安静而又孤独的思想者，绝非一个大声喊叫的街头守夜人。他很谦虚，知道自己的方法只对自己有意义，而这方法一部分来源于自己早期笨拙的求知过程。［“因此，我的意图并不是要在这儿传授一种每个人都要遵循以便能更好地提高理性的最好方法，而是仅仅表明我是如何致力于运用自己的理性……但是当我刚全部修完课程时（关于沉默的约翰尼斯的额外添加的故事，即，关于他的青春的课程），照例说可以被认为是进入了有学问者级别时，我的观点却完全改变了。因为我发现自己深受许多怀疑和错误困扰，局促不安，由此感到自己努力求学的结果是除了越来越发现自己的无知以外一无所获”（《关于如何在科学中管理理性和寻求真理的方法谈》）］——我们相信那些古希腊人是知道一些哲学知识的，他们付出了怎样的努力来把怀疑当成终生的任务啊！怀疑可不是一种数天或数周就可以习得的技能。这些久经沙场的哲学战士在面对所有诱骗时保持了稳定的怀疑态度，无畏地否定了感性意识和思想的确定性，刚正不阿地反抗自私的焦虑感和同情心的诱惑，他们取得了怎样的成就啊！——而这就是当今人们的起点。

今天的人们不会停止对信仰的追求，他们都会继续前行。或许，询问他们去往何处会有些鲁莽唐突，但我猜想实际上每个人都有信仰，否则谈论追求信仰就定然是奇怪的，我的这种想法表明我是个文雅有教养的人。不过，古时候的情况不同。因为那时，信仰是一项终生的任务，不是一种三天两日就可习得的技能。当老兵抵达人生的尽头时，他已经经历过英勇的战斗，保持了自己的信仰。他的心依然年轻，不会忘记那些曾经使他经受锻炼的恐惧和战栗，这些恐惧与战栗尽管成年人可以控制，却没有人可以完全克服——除非他得以抓住最早的机会去进一步追求。我们这个时代在这些可敬人物所抵达的地方起步，为了更进一步走下去。

本书的作者绝对称不上是哲学家，他还没有理解哲学的体系，他也不知道这个体系是否真正存在，或者该体系是否已经完善。就他不大聪明的头脑而言，能想到每个人要有多强大的头脑才能拥有如此众多的思想已是足够。即便一个人能够把信仰的全部内容都变成概念的形式，那也不意味着他已经领悟了信仰，懂得了如何得到信仰或信仰如何接近了他。本书的作者绝不是哲学家，他是个有高雅情趣的诗人（要是用诗意的好听的词说的话），他偶尔是个抄写员，但他既不建立体系，也不对体系抱有希望；他既不致力于体系的任何东西，也不受体系的束缚。他写作是因为这对他而言是一种奢侈，他的作品写得越是适合阅读和引人注目，就越少有人买来读（这就像奢侈品一样，东西越好越吸引人，就越少有人买——译者注）。在这样一个为了科学而摈弃激情的时代，他很容易预知自己的命运——在这样的时代里，想要拥有读者的作者必须小心翼翼地写作，以使自己的作品能成为餐后小睡前的轻松读物，而且一定要在世人面前表现得像求职广告中礼貌的园丁那样，手托礼帽，并带有前任雇主的推荐信，向深受尊敬的公众自荐。他预知自己的命运会被人完全忽视，他还有个可怕的不祥预感，就是自己将屡受狂热的批判责难。更让他不寒而栗的是，某位有进取心的记录人，或断章取义囫囵吞枣之人，为了拯救科学知识，总愿意像托普对《人类的毁灭》所做的那样，为了“保留好的品味”，豪迈地把他的作品切割开来，断章取义，而且会像那个致力于为标点符号科学作贡献的人那样无情地把作者的话按五十个字一句号，三十五个字一分号来分隔断开。我愿拜倒在任何试图寻找体系的搜查者面前解释，这不是体系，它也与体系毫无关系。因为研究体系很难成为高塔，我要祝福体系和丹麦所有致力于构建这种综合多用体系的人好运，繁荣昌盛。

此致

敬礼！

沉默的约翰尼斯

序　幕

从前有个人，他在孩提时代就听说过那个美丽的故事，那个动人的故事讲的是关于上帝如何考验亚伯拉罕，而亚伯拉罕如何经受住了考验，保持了信仰，又出乎意料地第二次得到儿子的事情。他长大成人后，又读了那个故事，这次却是怀着更大的钦佩之情，因为他在孩提时代看生活的那种虔诚的单纯在有了生活经历后已变得复杂，不再单纯。他年龄越大就越会经常想起那个故事。不过，他对它的热情和兴趣越来越大，对它的理解却越来越少。最后，他忘了一切他物，心里只有一个愿望，就是亲眼见到亚伯拉罕，他也只有一个渴求，就是亲眼见证那个故事里发生的事情。他想看到的并不是那些美丽的东方地区，不是上帝应许之地的尘世光彩，不是那对对上帝满怀敬畏并在老年得到上帝赐福的夫妇，也不是那位年老可敬族长的画像，以及上帝赐予以撒的青春活力——若是在贫瘠的荒野，那个故事同样也会发生。他渴望的是在亚伯拉罕和他的儿子以撒那三天的旅程里，可以陪伴在他们身边，满怀悲伤的亚伯拉罕要骑驴走在他的前面，以撒要走在他的旁边。他想亲身经历亚伯拉罕举目远望看见摩利亚山，以及他抛下毛驴，和以撒独自上山的那些重要时刻。因为他一心想着的不是精细新颖的想象，而是思想上的战栗。

此人绝不是个思想家，除了追求信仰之外，他不觉得有必要去超越信仰继续深究下去。在他看来，能被人当作信仰之父永恒纪念，并且，拥有强大得让人羡慕的信仰，即便是无人知晓这一点，也肯定是一件无比光荣的事。

此人也绝不是经书评注诠释者，他根本不懂希伯来文，要是他懂得希伯来文，也许他就会很容易地理解亚伯拉罕的故事。

一

“这些事之后所发生的事是，上帝的确引诱了亚伯拉罕，对他说：……现在，带上你的儿子，你最爱的唯一的儿子以撒，到摩利亚之地去，在那儿，把他作为燔祭献到我将指示给你的山上。”

一个清晨，亚伯拉罕早早起床，给毛驴装上鞍子，带着以撒离开了帐篷。但是，他们走下山谷的时候，撒拉一直从窗户那儿注视着他们，直到看不见为止。他们骑着毛驴默默地走了三天，到了第四天早上，亚伯拉罕依旧一言不发，但他举目远眺，看见了摩利亚的那座山。他留下仆人，独自带着以撒向山上走去。但亚伯拉罕心中暗想：“我绝不会对以撒隐瞒将把他带向何方。”他静静地站着，并把手放在以撒的头上为他祈福；以撒弯腰接受他的祝福。亚伯拉罕带着慈父的表情，温柔地凝视着他，说着鼓励的话。但是以撒不能理解他，他的灵魂无法得到提升。他紧紧抱着父亲的腿，在他脚下恳求，他为他年轻的生命求情，为他美好的前途求情；他在哀求中同父亲一起回忆在家里时经历的欢乐、悲伤和孤独。接着，亚伯拉罕扶起儿子，一边拉着他的手和他一起走，一边说着满是安慰和劝勉的话。但是以撒不能理解他。亚伯拉罕爬上了摩利亚的那座山，以撒依旧没有理解他。接着，他有片刻扭过脸去不看以撒。但是当以撒又看到他的脸时，发现他已神情大变：他用狂野的目光凝视着他，样子恐怖。他一把抓住以撒的胸膛，把他掷在地上，说道：“傻孩子，你真以为我是你的父亲吗？我是个上帝崇拜者。你以为这是上帝的命令吗？不，这是我自己的愿望。”以撒于是在地上瑟瑟发抖，他痛苦地喊道：“天堂里的上帝饶了我吧，亚伯拉罕的上帝可怜可怜我吧！假若人间没有我的父亲，那么你就做我的父亲吧！”不过，亚伯拉罕却悄声自言自语说：“感谢上帝！毕竟他把我视为凶残之人比对您失去信仰要好。”

*

当孩子要断奶时，母亲会把乳房弄黑，因为不让孩子吃奶时，若乳房看起来很诱人是件憾事。这样弄黑的话，孩子会相信乳房已改变，但母亲其实没变，她还是目光慈爱，温柔依旧。那些不需要用更糟糕的方法给孩子断奶的人是多么幸运啊！

二

一天清晨，亚伯拉罕早早起床。他拥抱了撒拉，他的衰老但依然被他视作新娘的撒拉。撒拉又亲吻了以撒，这个为她洗去耻辱，带来永远的骄傲和希望的儿子。之后，他们骑驴默默地走着，亚伯拉罕的双眼总是紧盯着地面。直到第四天，他抬头远望，看见了摩利亚的那座山，但他接着又盯着地面。之后，他默默地架起柴堆，绑住以撒；又默默地拔出了刀子。接着他看见了上帝选定的用以替代以撒的公羊。于是他献祭了那只公羊然后回家了……从那以后，亚伯拉罕变老了。他无法忘记上帝曾向他索要以撒这一切。以撒像往常一样茁壮成长；但亚伯拉罕的眼神已变得黯淡无光，再也看不到快乐的神情了。

*

当孩子长大快要断奶时，母亲处女般地把乳房掩藏起来，于是孩子便没有了母亲。那没有以别的方式失去母亲的孩子是多么幸运啊！

三

一天清晨，亚伯拉罕早早起床。他亲吻了撒拉，这年轻的母亲；撒拉又亲吻了以撒，那带给她永恒欢乐喜悦的儿子。亚伯拉罕心事重重地骑着驴上路了。他想起了夏甲，想起了被自己赶入沙漠的夏甲的儿子。他爬上了摩利亚的那座山，然后拔出了刀子。

那是个静谧的夜晚，亚伯拉罕独自骑驴出去。当他骑到摩利亚的那座山跟前，他扑倒在地，祈求上帝宽恕自己愿意献祭儿子以撒的罪过，宽恕自己作为父亲已忘记对儿子职责的罪过。他更加频繁地独自骑驴出去，但再也找不到内心的平静。他领悟不了为什么自己愿意将自己的最爱献祭给上帝会是一种罪，而且为了这个最爱他是乐意无数次奉献自己的生命的。而倘若这是一种罪，倘若他不是如此爱以撒的话，那么，他是无法理解这可能是可以被宽恕的。因为还有什么罪比这更可怕啊？

*

当孩子快要断奶时，母亲也是不无悲伤的。因为她知道孩子和自己日渐分离，那个开始在自己肚里，后来又被搂在乳房旁的孩子再也不可能和自己如此亲近了。因而，母子一起承受这短暂的悲伤。那和孩子保持亲近不必再悲伤的人是多么地幸运啊！

四

一天清早，亚伯拉罕的家里，为动身所做的一切准备已经就绪。亚伯拉罕告别了撒拉后，忠实的仆人以利亚撒一路追随着他，直到他不得不返回为止。亚伯拉罕和以撒骑着驴步调一致地走着，来到了摩利亚的那座山跟前。尽管亚伯拉罕镇定平静地为献祭做好了一切准备，但当他转身抽取刀子时，以撒看到他痛苦地攥紧左手，并且一阵战栗传遍他全身——不过，亚伯拉罕还是拔出了刀子。

之后，他们又回到家里。撒拉跑去迎接他们，但以撒已经失去了信仰。关于此事，他们只字不提，以撒也没有把自己看到的告诉任何人，亚伯拉罕也不曾怀疑过有任何人看到此事。

*

当孩子快要断奶时，母亲在手边准备好更好的食品，这样可以避免孩子夭折。那身边准备有更好食品的母亲是多么地幸运啊！

我们现在所谈的这个人以诸如此类的方式思考着那些事件。每次他从去摩利亚那座山的旅途回到家，他都会疲倦地瘫倒，双手紧握，说道：“亚伯拉罕无比伟大；然而，有谁能理解他呢？”

亚伯拉罕颂

如果一个人没有永恒的意识，如果一切归根结底只是狂野火热的骚动力，只是一种能产生一切伟大或渺小之物的翻滚着的昏暗模糊的激情；如果藏匿于一切事物之下的是深不可测的无尽的空虚，那么，生活除了是绝望以外还能是什么？倘若如此的话，如果没有神圣的纽带把人类联系在一起，如果一代人相继另一代人，就像森林里年复一年堆积的层层树叶，如果一代人取代另一代人就像林子里的鸟叫声一样此起彼伏，如果人类经历这世界就像轮船航过海洋或大风掠过沙漠一样，只是一时兴致下无思无果的活动；如果永恒的湮没忘却就像野兽总是潜伏着，饥饿地等候着猎物，而又没有一种力量可以从它的爪中夺走猎物，那么生活该会是多么的空虚和无可慰藉啊！但因为此原因，生活并不是那样的。而正如上帝创造了男人和女人一样，他也塑造了英雄和诗人或演讲家。诗人或演讲家没有英雄的技能，他只能钦佩、爱戴、欣赏英雄。然而，他，像英雄一样，也是快乐的；因为英雄可以说是他所迷恋的自己的更好本性的体现；他很开心英雄并不是自己，很开心自己对英雄的爱戴表现为真正的钦佩。他是回忆之神灵，只能回忆发生的一切事，除了赞美英雄所做的事，他什么也不能做。他对英雄的回忆和赞美里没有自我，只有羡慕。他追寻自己心里的愿望，但当他找到了自己追寻的对象时，就四处游荡，挨家挨户地演讲和歌颂自己发现的英雄，只为了使所有的人都像他那样钦佩英雄，像他那样为英雄而骄傲。这就是他的成就，他的卑微的使命，这就是他为英雄之殿所提供的忠诚服务。如果他对英雄的爱是真诚的，如果他日日夜夜都与那会使人遗忘英雄的阴谋诡计作斗争，那么他已完成了他的任务，他和英雄融为一体了，英雄反过来也一样忠实地爱他，因为诗人可以说是英雄的更好本性的体现，虽然这种存在肯定就像记忆一样无力无效，但也像记忆一样被理想化和美化。因此，任何伟大的人都不会被忘却：即便是误解之云将英雄遮盖，不管需要多久，英雄的仰慕者终将出现，而且他对英雄的忠诚愈久弥坚。

不！这个世界上任何曾经伟大的人都不会被忘却。但是每个人都有自己的伟大之处，每个人的伟大之处都与自己所热爱之物的伟大之处相称。爱自己者因为自身而伟大，爱戴他人者因为他对他人的献身而伟大，而爱上帝者则是这些伟大之人中最伟大的。他们都终将被记住，但每个人所达到的伟大程度与自己期望成正比。因而，有人因期望可能的事物而变得伟大，有人因期望永恒的事物而变得伟大，但期望不可能之事物者则是最伟大的。他们都终将被记住，但每个人所达到的伟大程度是和自己与之奋斗的事物成正比的。因而，与世界斗争者因为征服了世界而变得伟大，与自我斗争者因为战胜自我而伟大，但与上帝斗争者则是最伟大的。所以，世界上总有斗争，人与人之间的斗争，一人与成千上万的人之间的斗争，但与上帝斗争的人则是最伟大的。所以，地球上上总有斗争：有人靠自己的力量征服一切，有人靠无力无助征服上帝。有人靠自己获得了一切，有人对自身的力量很自信，奉献了一切，而那坚信上帝者则是他们中最伟大的。有的人在力量方面伟大，有的人在智慧方面伟大，有的人伟大在充满希望，有的人伟大在充满爱，但亚伯拉罕比他们都要伟大。他的伟大在于他的表现为无能无力的力量，在于他大智若愚的智慧，在于他表面上看似疯狂的希望，在于他实质上是自我憎恨的爱。

亚伯拉罕是靠信仰的力量离开父辈的土地来到应许之地成为异客的。他摈弃了一样东西，带走了另一样东西。他摈弃的是世俗的庸俗理解，带走的是他的信仰。否则，他肯定不会离去的，而且离开故土也肯定是不理智的。他是因为信仰才来到应许之地作异客的。这里没有什么可以让他追忆珍贵过往的，但新奇的一切诱惑着他的灵魂，使他充满忧郁的渴望。而他就是上帝所拣选的，上帝对他深感满意。是的，的确如此！要是他被上帝放弃，不再受上帝的荣光和恩典的庇佑，他或许会对此有更好的理解。实际上，这一切更像是对他和他的信仰的一种嘲笑。曾经也有人离开自己深爱的家园流亡在外。他没有被忘记，反映他痛苦地寻求和找到所失去的悲歌也不会被忘记。而亚伯拉罕没有作悲伤之歌，哀怨是人之常情，与哭泣者同哭泣也是人之常情，但是更伟大的是拥有信仰，更有福气的是注视拥有信仰的人。

是信仰使亚伯拉罕接受了一个应允，即在整个地球上他的民族世世代代都会受到庇护。时光流逝，那个可能性存在，亚伯拉罕拥有信仰；时光流逝，那个可能性减少了，亚伯拉罕依然保有信仰。曾经也有人怀有期望。时光流逝，夜晚临近，他没有忘记他的期望，因此他也不会被忘记。接着他感到悲伤，但他的悲伤没有像生活那样欺骗他，悲伤为他做了所有能做的一切；而他在甜蜜的悲伤中，依然保有他带着失望的期望。与悲伤者一起悲伤，是人之常情。但是更伟大的是拥有信仰，而更幸运的是凝视拥有信仰的人。我们没有看到和听到亚伯拉罕表达悲伤的歌曲。时光流逝，亚伯拉罕并没有忧伤地掐指算日，度日如年，也没有满腹疑心地打量着撒拉，担心她是否正在变老；他没有试图阻止太阳的脚步，使光阴停滞，以便撒拉不会变老并能像他期望的那样永伴自己左右；他也没有对着撒拉抚慰地唱着悲歌。亚伯拉罕老了，撒拉在当地被人嘲笑。而亚伯拉罕依然是上帝所拣选之人，依然承继着那个希望，即他在地球上的后裔将会得到神的庇佑赐福。那么，倘若他不是上帝所拣选，情况不会更好吗？成为上帝所选之人意味着什么呢？是不是意味着年轻时的愿望要被否定，只是为了在年老时艰难地实现它呢？不过，亚伯拉罕相信上帝的应许并且坚守着那份应许。倘若亚伯拉罕动摇过，他就会放弃了它。他就可能会对上帝说：“也许您终究没有实现那个应许的意愿；那么我就放弃我的愿望吧，它曾经是我唯一的愿望，是赐给我的欢乐。我的灵魂是正直诚实的，您拒绝兑现给我的应许，我对此心中毫无怨恨。”那样的话，他不会被忘记，他也会作为楷模拯救很多人，但他不会成为信仰之父。因为放弃愿望很伟大，更伟大的是放弃之后又坚持它；抓住永恒的东西很伟大，更伟大的是放弃永恒之后坚守那暂时性的东西。但那之后，最适当的时机到了。倘若亚伯拉罕没有坚守信仰，那么撒拉定会死于悲伤，而亚伯拉罕也会因为哀伤变得呆滞，不能理解应许的实现，反而会把它当作青年时的梦想微笑了之。但是亚伯拉罕笃信神，因而他永葆青春。这是因为一个总是希望得到最好的东西的人会变老并且会被生活所欺骗；一个总是为最坏情况做好准备的人会未老先衰；但拥有信仰的人则能永葆青春。那么让我们尽情颂扬亚伯拉罕的故事吧！因为撒拉尽管已上了年纪，依然心态年轻到足以渴求做母亲的愉悦；而亚伯拉罕虽然白发苍苍，也拥有盼望做父亲的年轻心态。从表面上看，信仰的奇妙之处在于亚伯拉罕和撒拉年轻到足以如愿以偿，得到儿子；从更深意义上看，信仰的奇妙之处在于亚伯拉罕和撒拉年轻到足以去希望，也在于信仰使他们保持了愿望并通过保持愿望保持了青春。亚伯拉罕接受应许的实现，他是从信仰上去接受它，而他也按照自已所被应许的和所信仰的那样得偿所愿；相比之下，当年的摩西用权杖敲击磐石，但他对信仰并没有信心。

所以，当撒拉在金婚之日扮成新娘时，亚伯拉罕家里充满了欢乐欣喜。

但是这种欢乐并不能一直保持；亚伯拉罕还要被考验一次。他和那个创造一切的微妙之力作斗争，和那个从不休息一直保持警惕的对手作斗争，与那个比万物都长寿的老人——也就是时间本身作斗争。也就是说，他与时间本身作斗争，并且保持了自己的信仰。但现在，这种斗争的所有恐怖都集中于这一时刻。“上帝引诱亚伯拉罕，对他说……现在带上你的儿子，你唯一最钟爱的儿子以撒，到摩利亚之地去；把他作为燔祭献到我将指示给你的山上。”

所以一切欢愉都丧失了，而且比不曾有过这一切欢乐还要恐怖。这样看来，上帝只是在戏弄亚伯拉罕！他通过创造奇迹使荒诞之事成真，现在又要看到它被毁灭。这确实是一种愚弄！但起初当那个应许被宣布时，亚伯拉罕并没有像撒拉那样大笑。但现在，一切都要丧失了！七十年忠贞不渝的期望，以及信仰使他们得偿所愿所带来的短暂欢乐，都失去了。是谁从这老人手中夺取心爱之物，是谁还要求老人亲自毁了它？是谁让这个白发男人，显得那么孤苦绝望，是谁还要求他亲自做这事？难道没有对这位可敬的白发老人的同情之心吗？难道也没有对这无辜孩子丝毫的怜悯之心吗？然而，亚伯拉罕是上帝拣选之人，是上帝要对他进行考验。现在一切都将失去！那个将被人类珍藏的美好记忆，即那个对亚伯拉罕子孙后代的允诺，只是上帝一时的兴致，是上帝一种转瞬即逝的念头，而现在亚伯拉罕必须让自己杜绝这种想法。那光辉的珍宝，和亚伯拉罕心中的信仰一样长久，比以撒年岁还要长很多年，是亚伯拉罕生命的果实，在祷告中神圣，斗争中成熟，是亚伯拉罕祷念的祝福，这果实现在将被过早摘掉，也将失去意义。因为如果以撒要被献祭的话，它还能有什么意义呢？那是个悲伤却又神圣的时刻，此时，亚伯拉罕该告别他所珍爱的一切，此时他应再次抬起他那可敬的头颅，此时他的面容应该像上帝的面容那样光芒四射，此时他应全神贯注地祝福以撒，以给他带来终生的快乐——但这一刻终究没有到来！因为，是的，亚伯拉罕的确会告别以撒，但他会是留下的人；死亡会使他们分离，但以撒将会是受难者。老人是不会在心怀祈福时把手放在以撒身上的，但是厌倦生命之心会使他凶残地把手放在以撒身上。是上帝在考验他。是的，唉，唉，那个给亚伯拉罕带来这个消息的信使啊！谁会敢当这样悲惨消息的使者？然而，正是上帝要考验亚伯拉罕。

但是，亚伯拉罕拥有信仰，他对现世有信仰。是的，如果他的信仰只是对来世的信仰，那么为了更快离开这个他并不属于的世界抛弃一切会容易得多。但如果有这样的信仰的话，亚伯拉罕的信仰也是不属于这种的，因为这种信仰不是真正的信仰，而仅是信仰的一种最为遥远渺茫的可能性。这种信仰的对象只是最遥远的地平线上一种模糊的概念，但该信仰又因绝望作祟，与目标之间有着巨大的深渊相隔。但是亚伯拉罕的信仰是为了今生现世的。他相信他会在自己的土地上变老，受到他的人民的尊敬和他的家族的祝福，以撒也永远不会忘记他。他视以撒为掌上明珠，满心爱着他，这种爱仅仅用他忠实地履行了父亲爱儿子的义务这样的字眼来描述是不够的，正如上帝的召唤令里所说的那样：“你最钟爱的儿子。”雅各有十二个儿子，他只爱其中一个；亚伯拉罕却只有一个，他深爱着儿子。

但是，亚伯拉罕拥有信仰而且深信不疑。信仰要使他做荒谬反常之事，他也深信。如果他对信仰有了怀疑的话，那他可能会做别的事情来完成上帝给的任务，他会做某种伟大而光荣的事；因为亚伯拉罕怎么可能做除了伟大光荣之事以外的事呢？如果他有了怀疑的话，他会大步走向摩利亚山，砍些木柴，点燃之后，拔出刀子，他会对上帝呼喊：“请不要藐视这个献祭，我很清楚，它不是我拥有的最好的东西；因为一个垂老之人与一个充满希望的孩子相比算什么呢，但这是我能献祭的最好的东西了。请不要让以撒知道此事，以使他在青春岁月里可以过得心安。”他会将刀刺向自己的胸膛。那样，他会受世人景仰，永垂青史。不过，受人景仰是一回事，做一颗能够救人脱离痛苦的引导星则是另一回事。

但是，亚伯拉罕有信仰。他没有为自己祷告求情，以求打动上帝。只有在上帝宣告对所多玛城和蛾摩拉城进行正义的惩罚时，亚伯拉罕才挺身而出，为此祈祷。

我们可以在圣经经文中读到：“上帝引诱亚伯拉罕说：亚伯拉罕，你在哪儿？但亚伯拉罕回答说：我在这里。”你，正在阅读本文与我交流的读者朋友，这种情况下你会这么做吗？当你远远看见势不可挡的命运之神向你渐行渐近，难道你会不对群山说“把我藏起来”，对山坡说“把我遮挡住”吗？或者，如果你更坚强的话，难道你的双脚不会曳地前行，不会好像渴望重走老路吗？当你被上帝这样召唤时，你是回答还是不回答？也许你会轻声低语地应答？亚伯拉罕没有这样。他是欣喜地、无畏地、满怀信任地大声回答“我在这里”。我们在圣经中接着会读到：“亚伯拉罕一大清早就起身了”。他匆忙前行，仿佛要赶赴什么庆典似的。他在清晨抵达上帝指定的在摩利亚山上的那个地点。他没有对撒拉谈及此事，也没有对以利亚撒言语。毕竟，谁又能理解他呢？这样的考验本身不就是严格要求他宣誓缄默保密吗？“他劈好柴，绑上以撒，点燃柴堆，拔出刀来。”我的听众啊，许多父亲失去过儿子，他们觉得这就像失去了世上最宝贵的东西，就像对未来的所有希望都被剥夺了一样。然而，没有哪个儿子像以撒对亚伯拉罕而言那样前程远大，意义非凡。许多父亲失去过孩子，但那是上帝，万能的上帝的不可更改的神秘莫测的意志使然，而亚伯拉罕的情况并非如此。对他而言一个更大的考验在等着他；和那把刀一同放在他手里的还有以撒的命运。他站在那儿，这个老人和他的儿子，他唯一的希望，站在一起！但他没有迟疑，也没有痛苦地左顾右盼，更没有用他的祷告质疑上天。他知道这是万能的主在考验他，也知道这是上帝能向自己要求的最艰难的牺牲，但是他更知道，当这种要求是上帝的指示时，没有他做不到的牺牲——于是他拔出刀来。

是谁给了亚伯拉罕之臂以力量啊，是谁使他的右臂高举着不致于无助地下落啊！任何人见此情景都会瘫倒在地的。是谁赋予亚伯拉罕的灵魂以力量啊，以使他的眼睛不致昏暗而看不见以撒或那只羔羊！任何目睹此景的人都会变得盲目丧失理智的。尽管那些见此情景瘫倒或失去理智的人很少，更少见的却是那些能够如实公正地讲述此事的人。我们知道，我们都知道，这只是个考验。

亚伯拉罕若是在摩利亚山巅时信仰有任何动摇，或是四顾而犹豫不决，又或是他在拔刀之前偶然间看到了那只白羊，那只上帝允许他用来替代以撒作祭祀用的羊羔，那么他就会回家，一切都会像以前一样，他还会有撒拉，他的儿子以撒也还会活着。但那样会改变一切！因为他的退缩会被视为一种逃跑，他的获救会成为偶然，他的名誉会被玷污，他的未来也会受到诅咒。那样的话，他见证的就不是自己对主的信仰或是上帝的仁慈怜悯，而是摩利亚山之旅的可怕。亚伯拉罕是不会被人们忘记的，摩利亚山也一样。但是它不会像诺亚方舟在洪水中的停靠地——亚拉腊山——那样被人们歌颂，而是会被看作恐怖耻辱之山，因为亚伯拉罕是在这儿动摇了信仰。

可敬的父亲亚伯拉罕啊！当你从摩利亚山之旅回到家中，你不需要赞美之词来安慰你所失去的，因为实际上你赢得了一切也保住了以撒。不是这样吗？上帝不再把他从你身边夺走，你和他幸福地在帐篷中就餐，正如来世你也会永远这样做一样。可敬的父亲亚伯拉罕啊！那些岁月之后数千年已流逝，但你不需要后世的崇拜者来与遗忘之力争夺人们对你的记忆；因为每一种语言都将你纪念——而你也给你的钦慕者带来了无与伦比的回报。你使他在来世在你的胸膛得到永恒的幸福，而对今生的他而言，你用你的惊世行为征服了他的眼睛和心灵。可敬的父亲亚伯拉罕啊！你是人类的第二父亲！你是第一个见证了那种为了与上帝奋斗，而藐视与凶猛自然元素之间可怕斗争所体现出的巨大激情的人，你理解那种至高无上的激情，是那种异教徒也会崇拜的神圣纯洁而又谦卑的激情的第一位理解者——请原谅那个想赞美你而又没能正确地赞美你的人。他赞美你时言语谦逊，这是他心之所愿；他赞美之词简短，这是适宜的；但他永远不会忘记你等了一百年才在苍老之年出人意料地等到了儿子的出生，也不会忘记在上帝让你保留儿子之前你不得不拔刀对着儿子。他更不会忘记在一百三十年里你对信仰一直忠贞不渝，不曾脱离。

问　题

源自内心的引言

一条关于外部可见世界的古谚语说：“只有劳作者才能得食物。”奇怪的是，这说法并不适用于它所根植的世界，因为外部世界是受不完美规律制约的。在这儿经常发生的是，不劳作者得食物，安逸睡大觉者比苦劳者所得的更多。在这外部世界里，所有者拥有一切，一切都受冷漠法则主宰。指环精灵听从戴它的人，不管他是努拉丁还是阿拉丁。拥有世上财富的人得到了财富，不管是用什么方法。精神世界则与此不同。这儿流行的是永恒的神圣法则。雨不会既落在正义上又打在非正义上，在这儿阳光并不会善与恶都普照；在这里只有劳作者才得食，只有明白痛苦者才能得到内心安宁，只有下过地狱者才能拯救爱人，只有拔刀者才能保有以撒。那不愿劳动者不能得到食物，但会受到迷惑，就像神迷惑俄耳甫斯一样。神用幻影替换俄耳甫斯所深爱的人，神迷惑他是因为他是个心肠温柔却不勇敢的人，还因为他是个七弦竖琴手，不是个男子汉。

在这种精神世界里，有亚伯拉罕作父亲或有长达一千七百年的贵族血统没有用。这儿不劳动的人就像传说中的以色列处女一样，只会孕育风，而劳作者则会产生自己的父亲。

传统智慧冒昧地试图把外部世界所抱怨的冷漠法则引入到精神世界里。这种智慧认为知道大真理就足够了，不需要其他的努力。但因此它不得食，当一切都变成金子时，它就会饿死的。它还知道什么呢？希腊历史上曾有成千上万人以及无数后代知道米堤亚得斯所获得的所有胜利，但只有一人为此失眠。同样，亚伯拉罕的故事也被世世代代的人传诵，又有多少人为之难以安眠呢？

亚伯拉罕的故事的卓越非凡之处就在于，不管我们对它的理解多么贫乏，它都会永远光辉灿烂。不过，也可以这么说，只有当我们愿意为理解这故事“辛苦劳动并承担重负”时，才可以理解它。但是，人们不愿意辛苦动脑，却想理解它。有人赞美亚伯拉罕，但是是怎样赞美他的呢？“亚伯拉罕的伟大在于他非常热爱上帝，以至于他愿意献出自己最好的东西”，这种赞美使这故事显得平凡无奇。这是非常正确的，但是“最好的”是个模糊的说法。一个人可以从语言和思想上轻易地认同亚伯拉罕的伟大，这样想的人可以悠然地吹吹烟斗，听人讲述亚伯拉罕故事的人也可以悠闲地舒展双腿。如果基督在路上碰到的那个富裕的年轻人卖掉自己所有的财产送给穷人，我们会像称赞所有伟大的行为一样称赞他，但我们如果不动脑费神的话就会连他也不能理解。然而即便他把自己最好的东西赠与别人，他也不能成为亚伯拉罕。在亚伯拉罕的故事里剩下的是痛苦；因为尽管我没有义务把钱给别人，但是父亲对儿子有最崇高最神圣的义务。而痛苦对柔弱者是件危险的事情，因此尽管人们想要谈论亚伯拉罕，他们却会忘记故事中留下的痛苦。所以他们谈论该故事，而且在讨论中将以下两个词对等：以撒和最好的东西。人们交谈甚欢。如果听众中有人正受失眠之苦，那么就可能产生最可怕最深刻而又悲喜交加的误解。这个听众回家后，他会想要做亚伯拉罕做过的事情，因为儿子的确是他拥有的最好的东西。而倘若那个讲述该故事的教士听说此事，他可能会走向那个人，动用自己作为神职人员的所有权威，对他大声喊叫：“你这个可憎之人，社会渣滓，是什么让你鬼迷心窍到想要谋杀自己的儿子？”而这位教士，在宣讲亚伯拉罕事迹时从没表现得激情澎湃，此刻他会为自己怒喝那个可怜的人时的义愤所惊讶，他会对自己深感满意，因为他从未讲得如此痛切如此有激情。他会对自己和妻子说：“我是个演说家，我所需要的是机会；礼拜日我宣讲亚伯拉罕的时候，当时一点也不觉得动情陶醉。”倘若这位宣讲者所剩的善辩才智不多的话，那么当那个要杀死儿子的罪人冷静而又带有尊严地回答说“这实际上就是你周日所说教的呀”时，他一定会无言以对。一个教士怎么会产生这样的思想？然而他的确这样传道宣讲了，错误之处只在于他并没有理解自己所说的话。为什么某些诗人不描写这样的情景而要写那些充满垃圾废话的喜剧和小说呢？在此悲剧和喜剧在这绝对无限之处相遇。那传教士的言语本身无疑是够可笑的，但其所造成的后果可以说是更加的可笑；当然产生这样的后果也是相当自然的事情。或许，假设那个罪人没有抗议而接受了传教士的谴责训斥；或许假定那热忱的传教士开心地回了家，开心是因为知道了自己的传教效果不是局限于讲道坛，而最重要的是，自己的工作显然还有不可抵抗的引导灵魂的力量；因为礼拜天那天他激励了教众，而星期一他又像身背火焰剑的小天使降临到那个罪人面前，而那个罪人依从自己说教的行为正好使那个古老的说法黯然失色，那个说法是，世人从不践行传教士所宣讲的【1】。

不过，反过来说，倘若那个罪人未被说服，那么他的境况会很悲剧。他无疑会被处以死刑或送进疯人院；总而言之，他和所谓的现实之间的关系会不妙，尽管从另一种意义上说，我认为思考亚伯拉罕的故事使他快乐：因为思考者不会麻木，不会毁灭。

怎样解释这个传教士自相矛盾的言辞呢？是不是因为亚伯拉罕获得了“伟大的人”这一称号的所有权利，所以他所做的一切都是伟大的，而如果别人做相同的事，则是一种罪过，一种奇耻大罪？倘若如此，我不愿参与这种轻率愚蠢的颂扬。如果信仰不能使这种为了信仰情愿谋杀自己儿子的行为成为一种神圣的行为，那么就让人们像谴责任何其他人一样谴责亚伯拉罕吧。如果一个人没有勇气把这点看透彻，没有勇气说亚伯拉罕是个谋杀犯，那么与其浪费时间对他做不当的称颂，不如去努力获得这种勇气。亚伯拉罕所做的，从伦理道德的角度来说，是他愿意杀害以撒；用宗教的语言来描述，是他愿意献祭以撒。但存在于这种矛盾中的正是那种的确令人无眠的痛苦，然而没有那种痛苦，亚伯拉罕就不是亚伯拉罕他自己。又或许，亚伯拉罕根本就没有做故事里所讲的事，或许在他那个时代的情境里，他做的是和故事里讲的很不相同的事情。那么，让我们忘了他吧，因为何苦要费力劳神去记住那已不能复制或变成现在的过去呢？或许那讲述者忘了讲某些伦理上的东西，比如他忘了讲以撒是亚伯拉罕的儿子这一事实。因为如果把信仰当作虚无直接去除的话，那么剩下的就只是一个残酷的赤裸裸的事实，即亚伯拉罕情愿杀死以撒；而这对任何没有信仰的人来说，是很容易效仿的。这儿没有信仰指的是没有那使人在杀人时感到为难的信仰。

就我个人而言，我不缺少勇气去透彻全面地思考一个想法。到目前为止，还没有什么想法令我害怕。倘若我遇到一种令我惧怕的想法，我希望我至少能够诚实地说：“这种想法使我害怕又令我激动不安，所以我不想去思考它。”如果我这样说是错误的，我无疑会受到惩罚。如果我承认亚伯拉罕是个谋杀犯这个评判是正确的，我不能确定我是否能够平息自己心中对亚伯拉罕的崇敬；但如果我自己有这样的评判，我可能会保持沉默，因为这样的想法是不能传给别人的。但是，亚伯拉罕绝不是虚幻的，他的名声不是不劳而获的；他的名誉也不是命运的随意安排偶然得来的。

那么，要毫不保留地谈论亚伯拉罕而又不冒使某人出轨仿效他做同样的事这种风险，这可能吗？如果我不敢开诚布公地评论亚伯拉罕，我就干脆对他不作评论，而且最重要的是，我不会贬低他，以免他因此成为弱者的陷阱。倘若一个人视信仰为人生主旨，也就是说他纯粹地视信仰为信仰，那么我想，在当今我们这个很难说在信仰方面有所进步或超越的时代，他就可能敢于谈论信仰而不会冒前面所提到的那样的风险。再说，一个人也只有在信仰方面才可以达到接近亚伯拉罕的高度，而不是靠杀子来模仿他。如果一个人把爱变成一种转瞬即逝的情绪，把爱看成对某人感到欣喜激动，那么当他谈论爱的成就和事迹时就等于给弱者设下了陷阱。当然人人都有一时的情感，但人们若因这些情感而做那些可怕却又被爱情神圣化不朽化的事情，一切就会丧失，这一切包括爱的壮举和那些被情感所误导为情所困的人们。

那么，谈论亚伯拉罕是可以的。伟大之人的伟大之处被正确理解的时候，是绝不会有什么坏处的。它就像一把双刃剑，既可杀人，又可救人。如果命中注定我要评论亚伯拉罕的话，我会首先说明亚伯拉罕是一个多么虔诚，对上帝满怀敬畏的人，他配得上“上帝所选的”这个称号。只有这样的人才会经受这样的考验，但谁是这样的人呢？接着，我会描述亚伯拉罕如何深爱以撒。为了达到这个目的，我会乞求所有善良之神的帮助，以使我的溢美之词像父亲对儿子的爱一样炽烈，我希望把这种爱描述得令这片王土上没有一个父亲敢说自己这样深爱过儿子。不过，要是一个父亲没有像亚伯拉罕那样爱儿子，那么，所有献出以撒的念头就会是一种诱惑。仅此一点，我们就已经足以谈论好几个周日，因此不必着急。如果谈论内容符合主题的话，结果会是，一些父亲如果真的做到了像亚伯拉罕一样慈爱，就会很开心，不想再听更多，而只满足于一时的开心。倘若有人在听了亚伯拉罕事迹的伟大之处和可怕之处之后，竟然冒险也走上了那条路的话，我会骑上马和他一同前往。在抵达摩利亚山之前的每一个驿站，我都会向他说明，他依然可以转身回去，他可以后悔没有理解会被召唤来经受这种性质的矛盾的考验，可以承认自己缺乏勇气，说如果上帝想要以撒的话，上帝必须自己把他带走。我深信，这样的人是不会被上帝抛弃的，他会像其他人一样得到庇佑，尽管不是适时得到庇佑。即便是在信仰盛行的时代，难道这样的人不会受到这样的评判吗？我认识一个人，他要是够慷慨的话，是可以救我一命的。他坦率地告诉我：“我很清楚我能做什么，但我不敢。我担心在最后时刻我缺乏力量，还担心我会为此后悔。”他不够慷慨，但谁会因此而不再爱他呢？

说到此处，而且在我已经打动了听众，使他们至少意识到一些关于信仰和其伴随的巨大激情之间的辩证斗争之后，若听众有这样的错误想法：“嗯，他的信仰如此深重坚定，我们只要抓住他衣服的后摆紧紧跟随他就够了”，并将之归咎于我的话，我是不会感到内疚的。因为我会补充说：“我绝对没有什么信仰。我只不过是个本性上比较精明之人罢了。我总是在把信仰付诸行动方面有困难。尽管克服这种困难使精明之人在信仰方面比没有这种困难的简单普通之人到达的程度要高，我并不认为这有什么重要价值。”

爱情，有诗人做它的传教士，人们偶尔会听到一个知道如何捍卫它称颂它的声音；但是人们却听不到关于称颂信仰的一言半语，谁来赞美这种信仰的激情？哲学的赞美者就更多了。神学坐在窗边涂脂抹粉来寻求哲学的青睐恩宠，向它大献殷勤。人们以为，理解黑格尔很难，而理解亚伯拉罕却是小事一件；超越黑格尔是个奇迹，而超越亚伯拉罕则轻而易举。我本人已花费了不少时间来理解黑格尔哲学，并且认为我已多少理解了它。我还冒昧地认为，该哲学的某些部分，尽管我付出很多努力也不能理解，其原因是黑格尔自己也没有完全弄清楚。我理解黑格尔哲学可以说是一切都自然而然，轻而易举，没有怎么劳神。但是当我思考亚伯拉罕时，我几乎可以说是彻底迷糊崩溃了。我无时不意识到亚伯拉罕生活中的那个巨大的矛盾或者说是悖论。不管我带着多大的激情试图去进入它，理解它，我感到总是被击退，丝毫也不能进步。我拼尽全力想去瞥一眼，但总是瞬间就崩溃无力了。

我并不是不了解世间所崇尚的伟大和高尚慷慨。我的心灵深处感受得到它的吸引力，我满怀谦恭之心深信英雄所追求的事业也是我的事业。当我思虑英雄的奋斗时，不禁对自己大喊：“现在你的事业正处在危急之时。”我可以把自己想象成英雄，但我不能把自己想象成亚伯拉罕；当我把自己想象到亚伯拉罕那个高度，我会跌落下来，因为我面对的是一个悖论。然而我绝不是认为信仰是低下的；相反它的地位是最至高无上的。同时，我认为哲学给我们提供哲学以外的东西并且轻视信仰，这是哲学的不诚实不厚道。哲学不能也不应该给我们阐述信仰，它应该理解它自身，并明白在不减损贬低什么的情况下它究竟要给人们提供什么。哲学最不应该做的就是通过欺骗使人们认为某事物虚无而摈弃它。我不是不熟知生活的诸多困惑与危险，我不害怕它们，我勇敢上前，无畏地面对。我也不是不熟悉恐怖之事。我的记忆是我忠实的伴侣，而我的想象，不像我自己，而像一个勤劳的女仆，她白天静静地勤劳工作，晚上则会甜美地和我闲聊她的工作，以至于我不得不关注她，即便她并不总是像她所描绘的风景，鲜花或牧歌田园那样。我已直面过恐惧，我不会因为害怕逃走。但我深知，不管我多么勇敢地面对它，我的勇气不是信仰的勇气，而且根本不能与之相提并论。我不能做到闭上双眼，充满信任地投身于荒诞之事，这对我而言是不可能的，当然我并不据此赞美我自己。我深信，上帝就是爱；这种想法的正确性对我而言是清新素朴和抒情诗般深情的。当它浮现在我脑海里时，我就难以言表地高兴；当它不见踪影时，我思念它比情人思念挚爱时还强烈。但是我没有信仰，我缺乏这种勇气。上帝的爱，对我而言，不管是从直接的还是相反的意义上来说，与整个现实都是相差悬殊，不可比较的。我没有因此而怯懦到呜咽和呻吟的地步，但我也没有阴险低下到否认信仰是一种层次要高得多的东西。我完全可以以自己的方式继续生活，我可以过得很快乐很满足，但我这种快乐不是信仰带来的快乐，而且与之相比甚至可以叫作不快乐。我不会因小事烦扰上帝，我不关心小事。我仅关注我之所爱，保持我爱的火焰无瑕而又纯粹。信仰深信上帝的关爱无微不至，上帝对最小的事也关注。今生今世我满足于和左手联姻，信仰却谦恭到要求右手的地步。而那确实是谦恭，我没有，也绝不会否认这种谦恭。

但是我好奇我们这个时代的人是否真的能够将信仰付诸行动？除非我搞错了，这一代人倾向于以能做他们认为连我都做不到的事为傲，那就是不完美或叫半途而废。以非正常的方式谈论伟大之人伟大之事，好像几千年是巨大遥远的距离似的，人们经常这样做，但这却是违背我的本性的。我更愿意以正常的方式谈论它，好像它就发生在昨天似的，只让伟大本身成为或被赞扬或被谴责的距离。如果我是一个假扮的悲剧英雄（因为更高的层次我也达不到），被召唤去完成像去摩利亚山那样非凡的旅程，我很清楚我会做什么。我不会怯懦到待在家里不愿出门，我也不会在路上休憩或磨蹭拖延，也不会忘带刀子以便拖延时间。我肯定我会准时到那儿，并且将一切准备就绪。我甚至会提前很早到达，以便早点结束那一切。但是我也知道我还会做些什么。我飞身上马的那一刻，我会对自己说：“现在一切都失去了。上帝索要以撒，我将要献祭以撒，和他一起献上的还有我所有的欢乐——然而，上帝就是爱，对我而言他还将依然如此。”因为在世俗世界里上帝和我无法交谈，我们没有共同语言。也许，我们这个时代里会有人非常愚蠢，非常羡慕伟大之人，以至于认为，或使我认为，倘若我真的那样做了，我就做了比亚伯拉罕做的还更伟大的事，因为我表现出的无比绝望难道不比亚伯拉罕的偏执狭隘要更理想化和富有诗意吗？然而这种想法是大错特错了，因为我的无比绝望替换掉了信仰。我做不到超越无限运动去寻找自我和追求心灵的安宁。我也做不到像亚伯拉罕那样爱以撒。当然我坚决地动手付诸行动这一事实可能证明了我的勇气。从人性的角度讲，我全身心地爱他是个前提条件，没有这个前提条件整件事就变成了那恶行为。然而我并不会像亚伯拉罕那样爱他，因为那样的话，我会在最后时刻退缩停住，尽管我并没有因为退缩迟迟才到达摩利亚山。而且我的行为还会破坏玷污整个故事，因为要是我重新得到以撒，我会感到茫然尴尬。重新在以撒身上得到快乐，这对亚伯拉罕是最容易的事，对我而言却很难；因为一个人在倾注了全部灵魂，自愿并自行负责地做了自己能力范围内无比弃绝的事【2】之后，他再拥有以撒只能是一种痛苦。

但是亚伯拉罕做了什么？他到达得不早也不晚。他骑上毛驴，沿着那条道慢慢前行。整个路途中，他都怀有信仰，他相信上帝不会向他要走以撒，然而他依然愿意献上以撒，如果上帝会真的想要他的话。他凭借荒诞偏执坚持信仰，因为不存在人的估计和推测的问题。而上帝向他要以撒之后下一刻竟又取消这要求肯定是荒诞的。他爬上山，即便在他手中的刀子闪着寒光的那一刻，他依然保有信仰，坚信上帝不会强要以撒。当然他对事情的结果感到惊讶，但通过这一双重行动，他又回到最初，所以他可以比第一次更欢乐地得到以撒。让我们再进一步分析看看。我们假设以撒实际上被献祭了。亚伯拉罕仍有信仰。他的信仰不是他以后会在来世某个时间得到快乐，而是他会在今世得到受庇佑的幸福。上帝会给他一个新的以撒，使被献祭的以撒复活。他依靠荒诞偏执坚持信仰，因为他早已停止一切正常人会进行的推测。我们清楚，悲痛会使人心智失常，而且这确实令人悲伤；同时我们也明白，有一种叫意志力的东西，它如此强大，可以逆风行驶，与风竞力，足以拯救一个人的理智，即便这个人已经有些古怪（这儿我绝对没有贬低之意）。但是一个人能够失去理智和理解力，以及这个由理智做经纪人打理的有限俗世，然后又凭借荒诞之力重新得回这有限世界，这样的事令我惊骇无比。但我并不因此说它低下或没有价值，正相反，它是唯一的奇迹。人们普遍以为，信仰所能产生的绝不是艺术品，而是只有笨拙之人才会要的粗糙俗气的制品，然而事实远非如此。信仰的辩证法是所有辩证法中最精细最出色的。它有一种提升的作用，对此我只能形成一种概念，但不能详细说清楚。我可以做蹦床跳，跳得极高，我有走钢丝演员那样的后背，这在儿时就已形成，因此这样跳对我来说很容易。一、二、三，我可以倒立着走来走去，但下一步我就无能为力了，因为我不能制造奇迹，我只能为之惊叹。是的，要是亚伯拉罕跨上毛驴的时候对自己说：“现在要失去以撒了。我何不在家里直接把他献祭，权当我走过那漫漫长路到了摩利亚”，那样我就不需要亚伯拉罕了。但事实是，现在我会对他的名字鞠七次躬，对他的英勇事迹鞠七十次躬。因为他没有那样做，我可以通过他重新得到以撒时的欢乐，那衷心的欢乐，他不需要时间和准备就可以调整自己来接受当下及其带来的欢乐这一点来证明。假如亚伯拉罕的情况不是这样，他很可能还是爱上帝的，但是他不会拥有信仰；因为不坚持对上帝的信仰而爱上帝的人反映的是自己，而笃信地爱着上帝的人反映的是上帝。

亚伯拉罕站在这个至高点上。他忽视的这个最后阶段叫无限弃绝阶段。他的确更进一步，达到了信仰。一切对信仰的讽刺，如那可怜的冷漠者的想法，认为“肯定没有必要也不值得提前担心”，那可怜的带有侥幸之心的想法，认为“谁知道会发生什么，也许终究不会有事的”，这些曲解信仰的想法属于生活中的卑劣可怜者，而无限弃绝者无比地蔑视他们。

我对亚伯拉罕无法理解；从某种意义上说，我从他那儿可以学到的只有惊叹。如果有人想象一个人可以通过思考这个故事的结果得到感动，从而有了信仰，那他就是自欺欺人，他也试图从信仰的第一阶段就欺骗上帝，试图从这个悖论中获取人生智慧。可能有人会成功，因为我们这个时代不愿意停止于信仰，这个时代在把水变成美酒后不愿停止制造奇迹；它更进一步，把美酒又变成了水。

难道，不管怎样，止步于信仰不是最好吗？难道人人都想更进一步走得更远不令人不安吗？当如今的人们以种种形式宣称不愿止步于爱时，他们正去向哪里呢？他们会走向世俗聪明、斤斤计较和算计，走向毫无价值、卑劣可鄙，走向一切使人的神圣起源（神授说）受到质疑的东西吗？难道一个人坚守信仰，并小心不要摔倒不更好吗？因为信仰运动必须要凭借荒诞之力持续地进行下去，但要注意，是用这样一种方式，这种方式不会使人失去有限的事物，反而会使他完整地得到它。就我个人而言，我确实可以描述信仰运动，但我不能够完成这些行动。当一个人学习游泳动作时，他可以悬吊在天花板上，我们说他在描述游泳动作还行，但不能说他是在游泳；同理，我可以描述信仰的动作，但当我被扔进水里，尽管我可以说是在游泳（因为我不是蹚水者），我做的是其他的动作，是无限性的动作；而信仰则是相反的动作：在完成了无限性的动作之后，它做的是有限性的动作。能那样完成那些动作，能制造奇迹的人是多幸运多可敬啊，我会永不疲倦地敬佩他。不管他是亚伯拉罕还是亚伯拉罕家里的仆人，是一个哲学教授还是贫穷的女佣，对我而言都绝对是无关紧要的，我只关注他们的行动。但我的确观察他们，以使自己不被自己或别人愚弄。无限弃绝骑士很容易辨认，他们步态轻快而又勇猛。但戴有信仰之珠宝的人却很容易使人迷惑或失望，因为他们从外表上看有一种和贪图享受的中产阶级非常相似的庸俗之气，而这是被无限弃绝和信仰所骄傲地鄙视的。

坦率地说，我在自己的经验中还没有发现任何可靠的有信仰之士的例子，尽管我不会因此否认可能很多人都是这样的例子。不过，我已经为了找到一个这样的人白白努力了好几年。人们一般周游世界是为了游览河流山川，看新发现的星星，羽毛艳丽的小鸟，奇怪的鱼，奇异怪诞的人种；他们陷入一种动物似的麻木无觉状态，只是呆视着一切，他们以为自己看到了值得重视的事物。我不关注这些。但是如果我知道哪儿住着个信仰骑士，我会徒步漫游去见他，因为我对这样的奇人绝对会无比地关心投入。我会一刻不停地陪在他身边，目不转睛地观察他如何进行信仰活动。我会把自己看作是终生需要扶持养护的人，会把自己的时间一分为二，以便一边观察他，一边自己也练习那些动作，这样我就可以全身心地崇拜他。如前所述，我还没有发现一个这样的人；不过，我依然可以很清楚地想象这样的一个人。在我的想象中，他来了，来到我面前。我与他相识时，有人介绍我给他认识。我第一眼看到他时，我把他推开，往后跳一步，拍手惊呼：“我的上帝啊！是这个人吗？真的是他吗？他看起来就像个收税者。”然而的确是他。我靠近他，无比仔细地观察他的哪怕最细微的动作，以便看到某些来自无限的、细小的，显示出不一致性的光学传真信息，我观察他的一瞥一笑、一举一动，以及喜怒哀乐的表情，这些行为若与有限性不一致，就暴露出了无限性。没有！我从头到脚地仔细观察他，以便找到某些泄露出无限性的裂缝或破绽来。没有！他的言行是彻彻底底一致的。他的站姿如何？蓬勃有力，完全属于有限性的特点，没有哪个周日下午前往弗雷斯堡闲逛的市民的步态比他更稳健的了。他完全属于这个尘世，没有哪个小资产阶级比他更属于这个世俗世界。一个人很难从他身上发现无限弃绝骑士那种超然离群的怪异和高人一等的气质。他参与各种日常活动，并从这所有活动中获得乐趣。当你看到他正忙于某事时，他的投入执着状态和任何凡俗之人全神贯注做某事时是一样的。他专心于工作。看到他工作的样子你会想到他像一个全身心忙于意大利式簿记的记账员似的，对细节一丝不苟。他礼拜天也休息。他常去教堂。你在他身上看不到任何神圣之光或与凡人不可比拟、格格不入之处。不认识他的人要把他和教众区别开来是不可能的；因为尽管他唱赞美诗时感情充沛、精神饱满，但那至多证明他有健康的双肺而已。下午时分，他会去林间散步。他为见到的一切感到喜悦：蜂拥的人群，新的交通工具公共汽车，动听的水声。在海边小道上碰见他的人会以为他是个正在享受一时放纵的店主。这就是他的娱乐方式；他不是个诗人，而我还曾经徒劳地想从他身上捕获那种富有诗意的非凡之处。傍晚来临时他回家去，步伐依然如邮递员走路那样不知疲倦。路上他想到妻子一定为他特别准备了热乎乎的小菜等他归来，比如说配有蔬菜的烤羊头之类。倘若他遇见一个投缘的人，他会带着饭店经营者似的热情津津乐道地和他谈论这道菜，一直走到东大门。碰巧的是，他身无分文，却坚信他妻子已准备好了那道佳肴等着他。如果她真准备好了那道菜的话，那么看他吃饭一定会是个让上等人羡慕让普通人刺激的奇观，因为他的胃口比以扫的还要大。若他的夫人没有准备那道菜，不可思议的是，他依然会狼吞虎咽，胃口奇好。在路上，他经过了一个建筑工地，在那儿又遇见了一个人。他们交谈片刻，片刻间，他建立起了一座高楼，他具有办成此事的所有能力。那个陌生人离开他的时候在想：“那人一定曾是个资本家”，而我钦佩的骑士则想着：“是的，就那件事而言，我肯定办得到。”他在一个打开的窗户边休息，同时俯瞰着他所居住的街区广场，观察一切正在发生的事情：一只老鼠从板下溜过排水沟，正在嬉戏的儿童。他泰然自若地看着这一切，冷静恬淡如十六岁的女孩。然而，他绝不是什么天才；我曾想从他身上窥探到天才身上所具有的不同寻常的无可比拟性，但这是徒劳的。晚上他会抽烟袋，看他这样你会发誓说他就像对面那位茫然呆坐着的干酪商。他漫不经心无忧无虑地生活在这世上，像个没有用的家伙，然而他购买他生活中的每一刻，他以最昂贵的价格买适宜的时间，因为他做任何事情都靠那股荒诞极端的劲儿。然而，是的，这却激怒了我，当然我不为别的，只是出于羡慕而生气。只是这个人已经而且是每时每刻都在做具有无限性的运动。他带着无限弃绝的情感饮尽生活中深深的悲哀，他知道无限者的幸福，他已感受到了那放弃一切，放弃世间最宝贵的东西的痛苦。而对他而言，有限者生活的味道也一如不知有更好味道之人所感到的一样美好，因为他在有限性的生活中并没有感到受挫、害怕的迹象；而且他依然有安全感并能享受生活，好像有限生活是一切事物中最确定最可靠的一样。然而，然而，他所体现的完全世俗的样子却依靠荒诞成了一种新的创造物。他放弃一切，接着又靠荒诞之力重新赢回一切。他不断地做着无限者的运动，但是他做得如此精准平稳，他又不断地从中得到有限性，而且没有人会怀疑什么。人们说，对跳舞者而言最难做到的是，以一种轻松而毫不费劲的方式直接跳出某个姿势，而且能在那一跳中保持该姿势。可能没有哪个舞蹈者能做到这一点，但这个骑士却能。大多数人灰溜溜地完全生活在世俗的喜怒哀乐中，他们就像板凳队员一样旁观着，不能加入到跳舞者的队伍中。无限弃绝骑士也是舞蹈者，他们的动作有腾空跳跃的高度。他们做向上的动作，然后又跳下来，这同样是快乐的消遣，看起来也很优美。但是他们下落时，却不能立即形成那个姿势。他们会摇晃踌躇一瞬间，这动摇表明他们终究是这世界上的异客。他们的摇晃程度取决于他们的技术，但可能多少都是显而易见的，即便是最娴熟的骑士也掩藏不了那摇晃动作。人们不需看他们在空中时的样子，只需看到他们落地和刚刚落地时的样子就可以认出他们。但是要能够以这样的方式落地，即在落地时立即看起来像是在站立行走一样，要把充满朝气活力的跳跃转变成行走，还能表现出行走者的崇高和庄严，这是只有信仰骑士才能做得到的事，而且这是唯一的奇迹。

不过，这种奇迹却有着很容易欺骗人的表象，因此我要举个具体的例子来描述信仰骑士的那些动作，以显示出其与现实的联系。而这是一切的关键。一个小伙子爱上了一位公主，这爱情是他生活的全部内容之所在。然而这是一种不可能有结果的，不会从理想转变成现实的恋爱。【3】当然，那不幸的奴隶，那生活如沼泽地里的青蛙的人会惊叫：“这样的爱是愚蠢的；那有钱酒商的寡妇一样是很好的很般配的选择。”让那些青蛙在沼泽里聒噪吧。无限弃绝骑士是不会这样做的，他不会为了一切世俗的虚荣而放弃爱情。他也绝不是轻佻的傻子。他会首先确定爱她确实是自己生活的实质，因为他的心灵太健全，太骄傲，而不能浪费一丁点在迷醉之类的错事上。他也不怯懦，他不怕爱潜入蔓延到他最隐秘最深藏的思想深处，不怕它盘绕住自己意识的每一根纽带和神经。如果爱变得不快乐，他会永远也不能自拔脱身。当他任爱兴奋着自己的每根神经时，他感到幸福的狂喜。然而他的心灵却无比庄严肃穆，就像一个饮尽了一杯毒酒，感受毒液渗透到每一滴血的人所感受到的那样——因为这是生死攸关的一刻。当他已经这样吸收了全部的爱，全身心地沉浸于其中后，他将不缺乏勇气去尝试一切，也敢冒一切风险。他反思自己人生的境况，他的敏锐的思想就像训练有素的鸽子一样听他召唤，服从他的每一个信号。他一挥竿，它们即四散飞去。但是现在，当鸽子们都作为悲伤的信使飞回来，向他解释这爱情不可能时，他变得很沉静。他把它们打发开去，独自一人，进行他的运动。如果我在这儿说的会有任何意义的话，那这运动必须是正常进行的。【4】因为，接下来首先，骑士会有力量来把他生活的全部内容和现实的意义集中到一个唯一的愿望上。如果一个人缺乏这种力度和强度的专注性，那他的心从一开始就会溃散分裂，他就绝不可能进行他的运动。他就会在生活中行事谨慎精明，就像那些资本家那样，把资金投放在各种证券上，以便这个赔了的话那个可以赚——简而言之，他不是个骑士。其次，骑士会把自己反思的所有结果集中于一种意识行为。如果他缺乏这个专注力，他的心神会从一开始就分散，那他就不会有时间进行他的运动。他会一直疲于奔命，忙于各种差使，永远不会进入永恒。因为当他刚要接近永恒时，他总会发现忘带了什么东西，因而必须返回。在下一刻他会认为进入永恒是可能的，那也是很真实的。只是有了这些考虑，一个人永远也不会去进行那个运动。反而会因为这些思虑而越来越深地陷入泥沼。

所以说骑士会做那个运动，但是是什么运动？他想忘记整件事吗？因为在忘记此事中也需要有一种专注。不！骑士是不会做自我矛盾的事的。一个人忘却生活的全部实质内容而又保持不变，这本身就是自相矛盾的。他不想变成另一个人，因为那样做毫无伟大可言。只有低等物种才会忘却自己，变成某种新东西。因而蝴蝶已完全忘记自己曾是毛毛虫，也许后面它还会全然忘记自己曾是个蝴蝶以便变成一条鱼。而高级生物绝不会忘记自我，不会变成某种不是曾经的自己的东西。所以，这位骑士会记住一切，但这记忆恰恰是种痛苦。然而，在这无限弃绝中，他与存在达成了和解。对他而言，他对那位公主的爱会变成一种永恒的爱的表现，还会逐渐获得一种宗教的特征，会美化成为一种对永恒存在的爱，这种爱虽然无法实现，依然以一种现实无法予以剥夺的永远有效的永恒意识使他得到平和。愚蠢而年轻的人总爱说，对人而言一切都是可能的，但那是一个巨大的错误。从精神上来说，一切都是可能的，但在有限世界里很多事物是不可能的。但是，这种不可能却被骑士通过精神上的表现变为可能，不过，他是通过放弃这种不可能性来在精神上表现它的。那个本来会带他走向现实但因为不可能而夭折的欲望，现在已转入内心，不过并没有因此丧失或被忘记。有时是他的愿望在无意识下唤醒那段记忆，有时是他自己主动唤醒它，因为他太骄傲，而不愿让那曾经是自己生活的全部内容的事成为一件转瞬即逝的一时的风流韵事。他保持着这种爱情的青春，而这爱也随着岁月流逝增长，并日益美丽。另一方面，他也不需要做有限的干预来使其增长。从他做那项运动那一刻开始，他就已失去了公主。他不需要看到所爱之人时所感到的情欲上的快感，也不需要在有限的意义上不断地与她告别，因为他对她的记忆是永恒的。他很清楚，那些渴望再见彼此一面来道别的恋人们有理由那样渴望，有理由认为那是他们最后一次见面，因为他们很快就会忘记对方。他已洞悉了一个深刻的秘密，那就是，一个人在爱另一个人的同时也要独立自给自足。他已不再从有限的意义上关心公主在做什么，这恰恰证明他已经在做那无限弃绝运动。在这里，我们有机会发现一个人所做的无限运动是真的还是假的。曾经有一个人以为自己做了那无限意义上的运动，但随着时间流逝，公主做了某件别的事，比方说，她嫁给了一位王子，他的心顿时就失去了弃绝的适应力和达观。他于是知道自己没有正确地做那无限运动；因为一个真正做了无限弃绝的人是独立自足的。而该骑士却不会取消自己的弃绝决定，他将他的爱保持住，一如刚开始时那样青春，他从未放弃过它，恰恰是因为他做了无限弃绝运动。那位公主所做的不会打扰他内心的平静。只有低等秉性的人才会从别人身上找自己行为的法则，才会从外在找自己行动的前提。当然，从另一方面来说，如果公主和他情投意合，那么会有美丽的爱情故事展开。接着她会自己进入骑士的级别，进入该级别不需要选票，任何有勇气自荐的人都可以加入；她会进入这个通过不区分男女这一事实来证明其不朽性的骑士级别。她也会把她的爱情保鲜，她也会克服痛苦，即便她没有，如同歌里所唱的那样：“躺在贵族夫君身旁”。这俩人会永远和谐共处，而且他们之间具有如此的前定和谐。假如那样的时刻会来临，不过不是在一个关乎有限性的时刻（因为在有限世界里，他们会变老），假如他们适时表达爱情的时刻会来临的话，那么，倘若他们一开始就结合，他们就能恰好在那个他们本应开始的地方开始。理解这一点的人，不管是男人还是女人，永远不会受骗，因为只有低等秉性的人才会想象自己被骗了。一个没有这种自傲的女孩实际上并不理解爱的意义，但如果她有这种自傲，世上所有的阴谋诡计都欺骗不了她。

一个人在无限弃绝中会有平和与安宁；任何愿意做无限弃绝的人，任何没有通过自我轻视而贬低自己的人——这比过于骄傲还可怕得多——都可以自我训练去做这种运动。这种无限弃绝运动使人在痛苦中得到与存在的协调平和。无限弃绝就像一个古老传说中所说的那件衬衫。里面的丝线在泪水中纺成，在泪水中漂白，衬衫也是在泪水中缝制的，但这衬衫给人的保护却比钢铁的还好。这个故事的一个缺陷是第三方可以制成衬衫。生活的秘密是每个人必须自己缝制它；了不起的是男人也可以做得和女人的一样好。如果无限弃绝运动正确进行的话，会得到平和与宁静，以及痛苦中的安慰。我可以很轻松地写一整本书来描述仅仅是我自己在此运动中出现的各种各样的误解，错误的姿势，懒散马虎的动作。人们很少相信精神，然而进行此运动恰恰需要精神。重要的是，它不是一种对必要性的残忍的克制约束的单方面结果，这种单方面克制的情况出现得越多，此项运动正常与否就越值得怀疑。因而，如果一个人认为那种冷酷的毫无结果的必然性必定存在的话，那么他就是相信没有人能够在自己真正死去之前经历死亡，这，在我看来，好像是极端唯物主义。然而，在我们这个时代，人们不怎么关心做纯粹的运动。假设某个想学跳舞的人说：“到现在为止，数百年来一代又一代的人都在学这些舞蹈动作，是时候我利用这些，直接从四对方舞开始了。”人们大概会有些嘲笑他，但在精神世界里，这样的态度却是十分合理的。那么，教育是什么呢？我认为教育是一个人学习如何把握自我超越自我的课程，而对于不愿学习此课程的人来说，就是生活在最文明的时代对他也没有什么用。

无限的弃绝是达到信仰之前的最后阶段，没有做这一运动的人不能说拥有信仰；因为，只有在无限的弃绝中，我才完全清楚了自己的永恒有效性，唯有如此，一个人才可以说靠信仰把握了存在。

现在，我们让前面那个场合里提及的信仰骑士出场吧。信仰骑士做的和那个骑士做的完全一样：他无限地放弃了对他生活的全部——爱情——的追求，他在痛苦中得到调解平和。但接着奇迹发生了，他又多做了一个比其他都精彩得多的运动，因为他说：“不管怎样，我相信我会得到她；也就是说，凭着荒诞，凭着对上帝而言一切皆有可能这一事实，我深信我会得到她。”这儿，荒诞并不属于理解的合理领域内的一种区别，它不同于不可能、意外、无法预见。在那位骑士进行弃绝行动的那一刻，从正常人性的角度讲，他深知那一不可能性，那是理解的结果，他完全能够想明白它。然而，从无限的意义上讲，它却是可能的，也就是说，通过放弃它（它即有限的可能性）；但是，接受这种拥有的可能性同时也是一种放弃。不过，对于理解而言，拥有这可能性绝非荒诞；因为，理解在它具有主宰地位的有限世界里断定，这种拥有曾经是且依然是一种不可能性，在这一点上，理解依然正确。信仰骑士同样清楚地意识到这一点；因此，能拯救他的只有荒诞，而靠信仰他领悟了这一点。于是，他承认那不可能性，但同时又相信那荒诞的可能性。因为要是他想说拥有信仰，却没有全心全意地承认那不可能性，那他就是在欺骗自我；而既然他甚至没达到无限的弃绝这一程度，那么他说自己有信仰的宣言就会在哪里都没有说服力。

因此，正是因为信仰以弃绝为前提条件，信仰才绝不是唯美的感情，而是某种高得多的东西。它不是内心的自发的倾向，而是存在的悖论。因而，若一个面临重重困难的少女确信自己的愿望会实现，这绝不意味着她的自信是对信仰的确信，即便她是由信基督教的父母抚养成人的，而且可能还去牧师那里接受了整整一年的信仰指导。她坚信的是自己的天真无邪，这种信心使她显得本性崇高，给她一种超自然的力量，以至于她可以像魔术师那样施展出存在范围内的有限力量，甚至打动石头，令其哭泣；而当她困惑恐慌时，她则可以跑向希律王，也可以跑向彼拉多，用她的哀求打动整个世界。她的信心总是那么可爱，人们可以从她那里学到很多。但有一件事情是不可能从她那里学到的，那就是如何做那些运动，因为，她的信心不敢在弃绝的痛苦中直面那不可能性。

由此，我明白了，要进行无限的弃绝运动需要力量、精力和精神自由；我还意识到，这是可以做到的。接下来的一步使我我惊讶头晕，因为一个人在做了无限的弃绝运动之后，接着要依靠荒诞得到一切，要完完全全地实现自己的愿望，那是需要超人的力量的；那就是一个奇迹。但至少我可以认识到这一点，那就是，那个少女的信心，与认识到不可能却依然不可动摇的信仰相比，只不过是轻浮与轻率罢了。每当我要做这一运动的时候，我都感到头晕眼花，同时我又无比地敬佩它，但又感到巨大的恐惧不安。因为我在想，诱惑上帝意味着什么呢？然而，不管哲学为了混淆概念会怎样努力地使我们相信它有信仰，不管神学怎样想廉价地出卖信仰，这项运动就是信仰运动而且会持续如此。

无限弃绝并不需要信仰，因为在弃绝中我获得的是我永恒的意识，而这是一种纯粹的哲学运动，为此，必要时我会冒险做到，我可以通过自我训练做到；因为每当我达不到某种有限的事物时，我会忍饥挨饿地坚持，直到能做那项运动；因为我永恒的意识是我对上帝的爱，对我而言，那是高于一切的东西。弃绝运动不要求有信仰，但要得到比永恒的意识哪怕多一丁点儿的东西则要求有信仰，因为这正是悖论。这些运动经常被混淆。据说要放弃一切需要信仰；不错，听说更奇怪的是，人们抱怨说他们已失去了信仰，当查看他们所处位置时，才发现他们才来到需要进行无限弃绝运动的地点。通过弃绝我放弃了一切，这是一项我独自进行的运动。当我不做此运动时，那是因为我怯懦软弱，缺乏热情，没有意识到每个人被赋予的崇高尊严的意义，也没有意识到做自己的检察官这一崇高尊严的重要性，它是比做整个罗马共和国总检察长还要高得多的尊严。我靠自己进行这项运动，我因此获得的是我永恒的意识，以及我与自己对永生者的爱之间的一种神圣的和谐一致。凭借信仰，我不放弃一切，相反，凭借信仰我得到一切。就像人们所说的那样，有像芥菜种子一样信仰的人可以撼动高山。要放弃整个暂时性来获得永恒，这需要人具有纯粹的勇气。但我的确得到了它，而且不能为了永恒放弃它，因为那样就会是一种自相矛盾。但是要依靠荒诞去抓住全部暂时性需要有一种相悖而又谦卑的勇气，而这种勇气是信仰的勇气。依靠信仰，亚伯拉罕没有放弃以撒，还是依靠信仰，他又得到了以撒。前面所说的那个富裕的年轻人，借助他的弃绝，本应捐赠了一切，但是他一旦这样做了，信仰骑士会对他说：“依靠荒诞，你会重新得到每一分钱，要相信这一点！”这些话对那个曾经富裕的年轻人绝非无关紧要之言，因为倘若他是因厌烦无聊而放弃他的所有，那他的弃绝就是可怜而又令人遗憾的。

这里，一切的关键是暂时性和有限性。我能够靠自己的力量放弃一切，然后在痛苦中找到平和安宁。我可以忍受一切，即便是那魔鬼，那比恐怖的骷髅还可怕的魔鬼，即便是疯狂本人在我眼前举着傻子的服装，并且我能从它的表情看出它必让我穿上这傻人之服；只要我认为，我对上帝的爱应战胜我心里的一切，它比我世俗的幸福更重要，我就依然能够保住我的灵魂。一个人在最后时刻，依然能够集中全部身心把目光投向那所有美好东西的来源地——天堂，这一瞥是他和他所追寻的人——上帝——都理解的。这凝望意味着他还忠实于他的爱。然后，他会平静地穿上那服装。缺乏这种浪漫主义的人已经出卖了他的灵魂，不管他是用它换了一个王国还是微不足道的一点银子。但是我靠自己的力量不能够得到哪怕是一丁点儿属于有限性的东西，因为我总是不停地在费力放弃一切。我靠自己的力量能够放弃那位公主，我绝不会因此抱怨或闷闷不乐，我会在痛苦中找到快乐、平和与安静。但是我却不能靠自己的力量重新得到她，因为我正好用尽了所有的力量来放弃对她的追求。但是，通过信仰，那位令人赞叹的骑士说，通过信仰，你会靠荒诞之力得到她。

唉，这种运动是我做不了的！只要我一开始做这运动，一切就会逆转，我就会逃回到弃绝的痛苦中。在生活中我会游泳，但我太重了，做不了这神秘的漂浮。以这样一种方式存在，即我对存在的反作用力每时每刻都表现为最美丽最安全的和谐，我做不到。然而，能得到公主一定是荣耀的，我每时每刻都这样说，而那个不这样说的弃绝骑士是个骗子，他不是只有一个愿望，他没有通过痛苦使这个愿望常青。有些人可能觉得没有了这个愿望，刺痛变迟钝会很舒服很方便，但这样的人绝不是骑士。一个有生来自由灵魂的人若发现自己如此，会鄙视自己的，而且绝不会允许自己的灵魂受到欺骗。不过，得到公主一定是很美好的，不过，只有信仰骑士才是快乐的，才是有限世界的继承者，而那弃绝骑士则是个陌生人和外来人。这样，要以这种方式得到公主，要日日夜夜在她的陪伴下生活在幸福快乐中（当然，我们得让弃绝骑士也可能得到公主，即便他已清楚地意识到他们未来幸福的不可能性）；这样，要以这种方式靠荒诞之力每时每刻快乐幸福地生活着，每时每刻都看到利剑高悬于挚爱的人的头顶，同时感到的不是弃绝痛苦中的宁静，却是靠荒诞得来的快乐，那是很美妙的。做到这一点的人，是伟大的，而且是唯一伟大的人，想到这一点，我就很激动，我对伟大的崇拜之情从来都是毫不吝啬，慷慨激昂的。

那么，如果我这一代人中每个坚持信仰的人都是真正了解了生活的恐怖，领会了道勃所说的话（一个在暴风雨之夜独自手持上膛的枪在弹药库边站岗的士兵会有奇怪的想法）的意思的人；如果所有不愿在信仰上止步的人都是有这样的灵魂之力，能够理解并留出时间独自思考他们所希望的是不可能的这一思想的人；如果所有坚持信仰的人都是已经在痛苦中调和平复了自我并已适应痛苦的人；如果每个不愿在信仰上止步的人下一步（要是他们没有做到上述几步，那么他们也就不必在信仰上自寻麻烦了）会实现奇迹，靠荒诞之力理解全部存在的人，那么，我正在写的话，就是一个最渺小卑微，只能做弃绝运动的成员，对同代人所说的最崇高的赞颂。但是为什么他们不愿止步于信仰，为什么我们却又有时会听说人们羞于承认自己有信仰呢？这是我所不能理解的。如果我能设法做到这项运动的话，自那以后我会驾着四轮马车奋力前行的。

情况真是这样吗？我在生活中所看到的所有资产阶级庸俗之气，那些我用自己的行为，而不是言语去谴责的种种风气，真的不是他们表面上所显示的那样吗？它真的是那奇迹吗？这当然是可以想象得到的，因为我们的信仰英雄的确和它惊人的相似，我们的信仰英雄并非讽刺者或幽默家，而是具有某种高得多的品质的人。我们这个时代大量地讨论讽刺和幽默，尤其是那些在此方面从未成功却知道如何解释一切的人爱谈论它们。我对讽刺和幽默这两种爱好并非完全不懂，还略多于我对德语和丹麦—德文的概略了解。因此我知道这两种爱好从本质上与信仰的激情不同。讽刺和幽默是反映自身性的，因而属于无限的弃绝范畴，其灵活性应归结于个人与现实的不可比较性。

最后一项运动，信仰的悖谬运动，不管它是义务还是别的什么，是我做不到的，尽管实际上我极想做到。一个人是否有权作出这样的断言必须取决于他自己；他是否能够在这方面达成心平气和的妥协一致，这是他和永生者，即人们信仰的对象，上帝，之间的问题。不过，每个人都能做的是无限弃绝运动，对任何认为自己做不到的人，我个人会毫不犹豫地称其为懦夫。而信仰就是另一回事了。但是，任何人都没有权利使别人以为信仰是什么卑下或容易的事，而实际上它是世上最伟大，最困难的事。

有些人以另一种方式理解亚伯拉罕的故事。他们赞美上帝的仁慈，因为他再次把以撒给了亚伯拉罕，整件事只是个考验而已。考验，这个词可以意味着很多的东西，也可以意味着很少东西，但是整件事在讲述中却是说时迟那时快，很快就结束了。在讲述的故事中，人们骑上了插翅的飞马，在同一瞬间人们就到了摩利亚山，在同一瞬间人们就看到了那公羊。人们忘记了亚伯拉罕骑的是一头毛驴，那毛驴只能慢悠悠地走着，忘了他经历了三天的路程，忘了他需要时间来砍些木柴，捆缚以撒，还要把刀子磨锋利。

然而人们还是歌颂亚伯拉罕！那演讲者完全可以在宣讲前十五分钟还在睡觉，那听众不妨在整个宣讲过程中睡觉，因为一切都进行得很顺利，演讲者和听讲者都没有什么麻烦。假如某个在场的人无法入睡，很难受，他可能会回家，在一个角落坐下，然后想：“整件事瞬间就结束了，如果你等一分钟，你就会看到那公羊，然后考验就结束了。”倘若那演讲者在这种情况下遇见他，我想，他会庄严地走向他，对他说：“可怜的人啊，你竟让自己的灵魂沉沦于这样的愚蠢！不会发生什么奇迹，整个人生就是一场考验。”他说得越是热情洋溢，就越激烈，也就对自己愈发满意，他注意到自己在谈论亚伯拉罕时没有血脉贲张涨红了脸，而此时却能感到额头上青筋直冒。当那被他说教的罪人平静而又有尊严地说“但那就是你上周日所讲的啊”时，也许他会张口结舌，目瞪口呆。

那么，让我们要么完全忘掉亚伯拉罕，要么就学会应对我们在想到亚伯拉罕生活的重要意义——那怪异荒谬的悖论——时所感到的恐怖惊慌吧，这样我们就可能明白，像其他时代一样，我们这个时代，如果有信仰，是值得高兴的。如果亚伯拉罕不是虚无、幽灵，或人们用来消磨时间的浮夸炫耀的言谈，那么那个罪人想要效仿他就绝对没有错，问题的关键在于要认识到亚伯拉罕的行为的伟大，以便他可以判断自己是否有经受这样考验的意愿和勇气。那个演讲者行为中滑稽可笑的自我矛盾之处是他一方面自己使亚伯拉罕显得无关紧要，另一方面他又禁止别人这样做。

那么，我们是否不应该敢于谈论亚伯拉罕？我想不是的，我们应该敢于这样做。假如我自己要谈论亚伯拉罕的话，我首先要描述那考验的痛苦，为了达到此目的，我会像蚂蟥一样，吸尽亚伯拉罕作为父亲所承受的痛苦中的所有惧怕、悲痛和折磨，以便能描写出他尽管饱受痛苦依然还坚持信仰。我会提醒人们那旅途持续了三天半；是的，那三天半肯定比我与亚伯拉罕相隔的两千年还要长。接下来我还会提醒他们的是，我认为，每个人都可以在开始做这样的事之前改变主意，在任何时刻都可以退缩返回。如果有人做此事的话，我不认为有危险，也不担心在人们身上激发起想要经受亚伯拉罕所经受的那样的考验的欲望。但是，如果有人想推销亚伯拉罕故事的廉价版本，接着又严禁人们去做亚伯拉罕所做的事，那就真是可笑之极。

为了领悟信仰是多么怪异惊人的一种悖论，是一种可以使谋杀变成神圣的令上帝满意的行为的悖论，是一种把以撒又还给亚伯拉罕的悖论，是一种没有人能理解的悖论，因为信仰正是从思维停止的地方开始，我现在打算提炼出亚伯拉罕故事中内在的辩证因素，并将其以论问题的形式描述出来。

问题一
可以从目的论角度上暂时停用伦理吗？

伦理就其本身而论是具有普遍性的，作为普遍性的东西它适用于每个人，从另一个角度而言，也可以说，它在所有时刻都适用。它是自身内在固有的，没有任何外在的东西是它的目的，而它本身则是它以外所有东西的目的，以上所述的就是伦理所包含的所有内容了。每个直接被视为具有身体的和精神的两方面生命的个人，是有普遍性的目的的。每个人的伦理任务就是在其中不断地表达自我，消除自己的个别性以变成具有普遍性的人。一旦个人想要坚持自己的独特个性，直接与普遍性作对，他就是犯罪了，而只有认识到这一点，他才能重新与普遍性达成和谐一致。在具有普遍性之后，每当单个个体有坚持自己的个体性的冲动时，他就处于诱惑中，他只有通过忏悔地把他的个体性上交给普遍性才能把自己从诱惑中解救出来。如果这就是我们对一个人和他的存在所能说的最高层次的东西，那么伦理和一个人的永恒幸福，是完全相同的。一个人的永恒幸福也就是他所有时刻的永恒的目的。那样的话，说一个人放弃那个目的（也就是说，从目的论意义上暂停那个目的）就是自相矛盾的，既然一个人暂停那个目的就意味着丧失它，而其实，这个意义上所说的被暂停的东西并不是丧失了，而是被保存在某种更高的东西里，后者正好是它的目的。

如果是这样的话，那么黑格尔在他写的“善与良心”中所说的就是对的。他在其中讨论的是，人仅仅被看作是单一的个体，他认为这种界定是“恶的道德形式”，是应该在道德目的论中被废除掉的，这样，停留在此阶段的个人不是处于罪孽中，就是处于诱惑中。然而，黑格尔谈论信仰时却犯了个错误，他错在当亚伯拉罕应该被传到低等法庭判定为谋杀者时，他没有大声清楚地抗议亚伯拉罕作为信仰之父所享受的荣耀。

因为信仰就是这样的悖论，它意味着个体性比普遍性要高一等。不过，要注意，是以这样的方式高于普遍性，即，信仰运动是自我重复的，结果是，个体在具有普遍性后，把自己作为凌驾于普遍性之上的个体分离开来。如果这不是信仰，那么我们就丧失了亚伯拉罕，而且，正因为信仰一直存在于这世上，就意味着信仰从未在这世上存在过。因为如果伦理的东西（也就是道德的东西）是最高的，人身上剩下的除了邪恶意义上的东西（即必须用普遍性表现的个体性）以外没有什么不可比较的了，那么，除了那些希腊哲学家所界定的范畴或任何可以从那些希腊人的范畴里演绎出的范畴以外，我们就不需要什么其他的范畴了。这一事实是黑格尔本不应该隐瞒的，因为他毕竟是研究过希腊哲学的。

人们常听那些不作研究只专注于陈词滥调的人说，基督教世界阳光闪耀，而异教徒的世界则是黑暗笼罩的。这种说法总让我觉得奇怪，因为任何有适度深刻思想的人，任何足够认真的艺术家都依然希望在希腊思想的永恒青春中恢复青春活力。他们这样说的原因可能是他们不知道说什么，只知道他们得说点什么。说异教徒没有信仰没有什么错，但若这样说要想有什么意义的话，说的人一定要把他所说的信仰是什么意思，解释得更清楚点，否则的话，他也将落入陈腔滥调的俗套之中。在不了解信仰是什么概念的情况下去解释一切存在，包括信仰，是很容易的，而且，做了此类解释还指望别人钦佩的人也不算是做了最糟糕的估计，【5】因为正如布瓦洛所言：“傻瓜总能找到更大的傻瓜来钦佩自己”。

信仰就是这样的悖论，它意味着个人作为个体性高于普遍性，比后者更合乎情理，它不是从属于后者而是高于后者。不过，要注意，是以这样一种方式，那个曾经作为个人从属于普遍性的独特个体，现在借助普遍性变成了与绝对处于一种绝对的关系中的作为个体的个人，因而成了高于普遍性的个体。这种精神态度是不可调解或改变的，因为所有调解都恰恰需要借助普遍性来完成；它是而且永远将是一个悖论，靠思想无法理解的悖论。然而信仰就是这样的悖论，要不然（我想请读者永远记住这些推理启示，尽管我自己每次把它们讲清楚都很复杂很冗长）——要不然，正因为信仰一直存在于这世上，就意味着信仰从未在这世上存在过。而换言之，我们也就丧失了亚伯拉罕。

某些个人确实容易把这个悖论与诱惑混淆起来。但是人们不应因此对这一点保持隐晦。很多人也确实对悖论有种自然的排斥厌恶，但那绝不能成为他们把信仰变成别的东西以便自己也可以拥有信仰的理由。而那些的确拥有信仰的人应该准备提供某些区别悖论和诱惑的标准。

亚伯拉罕的故事里包含了这样一个目的论意义上的对伦理的暂时中止。我们从不缺乏为这个故事找类比的敏锐的知识分子和高级学者。他们找这些类比的智慧都源于同一个很好的原理，那就是，基本上一切都是一样的。如果人们研究得更仔细一点儿，我很怀疑，除了后来那个说明不了什么的类比，他们是否能在全世界找到一个真正的类比。因为事实一直是这样：亚伯拉罕代表了信仰，信仰在他身上得到合适的表达，因为他的生活不仅是人们能想象得到的最为矛盾荒谬的，而且悖谬得简直不可思议。他靠荒谬怪诞行事，因为他作为个体却高于普遍性的东西，这就是荒诞。这个悖论是不能调整改变的，因为他一旦开始这样做，他就得承认他处于受诱惑的状态中，这样的话，他就永远不会走到牺牲以撒的那一步，或者，假如他献祭了以撒，他一定会愧疚地返回普遍性。他是靠荒诞重新得到以撒的，因此亚伯拉罕绝不是悲剧性的英雄，而是不同的一种人，他要么是个谋杀者，要么是一个坚持信仰的人。亚伯拉罕身上缺的就是那可以拯救悲剧英雄的中间特质。这就是为什么我可以理解一个悲剧英雄，却无法理解亚伯拉罕，尽管在某种疯狂的意义上我对他的钦佩超越了对所有其他人的钦佩。

亚伯拉罕和以撒的关系，从伦理的角度讲，可以这样简单描述：父亲对儿子的爱超过对自己的爱。然而，伦理在自己的范畴里有几个不同的层次。让我们看看在亚伯拉罕的故事里能不能找到对伦理的更好、更高层次的表达，这样就可以从伦理上解释他的行为，从伦理上为他中止对儿子伦理上的义务作辩护，而同时又不因此逾越伦理自己的目的论范畴。

当一件关乎整个国家的大业受到阻碍时，当该国家大业因为上天的不悦而被中止时，当愤怒的天神用平静来嘲笑一切努力时，当算命者严肃地完成任务，悲哀地宣告神灵要求一个年轻姑娘作祭品时，那么父亲就得英雄般地献祭自己的女儿。他会高尚大度地隐藏起痛苦，尽管他可能希望自己是个“敢于哭泣的低下的人”，而不是那行事举止都必须有庄严国王风范的国王。尽管他心中有抑制不住的孤独的苦痛，而且他在他的子民中只有三个心腹知己，但很快全国人民都会知道他的痛苦、他的英勇行为，知道他为了全民的福祉，献出了那个女孩，他的女儿，他那可爱的还是少女的女儿这一事实。啊，她有多么迷人的胸脯，多么美丽的脸庞，多么漂亮的金发！女儿会用眼泪打动父亲，而父亲会转过脸去不看她，这英雄的父亲会举起刀子。当此消息传到老家，所有希腊的美丽少女都会激动得涨红了脸；而假如那女儿已订婚，她的爱人不会生气，反而会为参与分担了父亲的行为而感到自豪，因为那少女从情感上是属于他和她父亲的，但对他而言这感情更温柔珍贵。

当那在紧急时刻拯救以色列的勇敢士师耶弗他用同一个誓言把自己和上帝连在一起时，那么，他就要英雄般地把那少女的欢欣，他所挚爱的女儿的欢乐，变成悲伤，而所有以色列人将会和她一起为她的少女年华悲叹。但是所有生来自由的男人都会理解耶弗他，所有刚毅的女人都会钦佩他，而所有的以色列少女都会想要像他的女儿一样去献身；因为如果耶弗他立下誓言而又不守诺的话，他胜利凯旋又有什么意义？难道这胜利不会被再次从人民那里夺走？

当一个儿子忘了他的职责时，当国家把正义之剑交托给那父亲时，当法律要求父亲出手惩罚罪人时，那么父亲就必须英勇地忘记有罪之人是自己的儿子。他会高尚大度地隐藏自己的痛苦，但是全国所有的人，包括那有罪的儿子，都因此而钦佩这位父亲。每次罗马法被阐释的时候，人们会记起，很多人把它解释得更学术更精深，但谁也没有布鲁托斯用英勇行为阐释得更光荣。

然而，要是阿伽门农是在他的舰队顺风全速驶向目的地时已派遣了去接依菲琴尼亚来献祭的信使；要是耶弗他在没有受制于任何决定他的民族命运的诺言的情况下，对自己的女儿说：“从现在起为你的短暂青春哭泣两个月吧，之后我会把你献祭给上帝”；要是布鲁托斯有一个正直的儿子，他还依然传唤执法吏将儿子执行死刑，谁会理解他们呢？如果这三人在回答你为什么这样做这个问题时，都说“这是一场考验，我们在经受考验”，那么会有人因此对他们理解得更好些吗？

在那关键时刻，当阿伽门农、耶弗他和布鲁托斯英勇地克服了痛苦，勇敢地放弃了挚爱之人，只好作出那外在的牺牲时，世上绝不会有哪个灵魂高尚的人不为他们的痛苦流下同情的泪水，绝不会有哪个灵魂高尚的人不为他们的壮举流下感佩的泪水。但是，如果在那关键时刻，这三个人为他们那借以忍受痛苦的英雄之气加上“它是绝不会发生的”这几个字的话，那么谁会理解他们呢？如果他们又解释性地说“我们靠荒诞相信此事不会发生”，谁会因此对他们理解得更好些呢？因为谁会很难理解它是荒诞的呢？但是，谁会理解一个人能因此相信它呢？

悲剧英雄和亚伯拉罕之间的区别是很明显的。悲剧英雄仍处于伦理的范围之内。他使某一伦理的表达在更高层次的伦理表达中找到其目的；他把父子或父女之间的伦理关系降低成一种和道德观念之间有辩证关系的感情。那么，这儿就不可能有从目的论角度上暂时中止伦理本身这样的问题。

亚伯拉罕的情况是不同的。他的行为完全跳出了伦理的范围，而有了伦理之外更高的目的，为此目的他暂时中止了伦理。我们怎样才能把亚伯拉罕的行为与普遍性联系起来呢？除了发现亚伯拉罕的行为逾越了普遍性之外，我们如何找到二者之间任何其他的关联点呢？亚伯拉罕做的事不是为了拯救一个国家，不是为了支持国家的意图，也不是为了平息天神的愤怒。要是有天神愤怒这个可能，那他也只可能是对亚伯拉罕感到愤怒，而且，亚伯拉罕的整个行为与普遍性完全无关，它纯粹是个人的艰巨行为。因此，尽管悲剧英雄凭借体现道德规范的行为而伟大，亚伯拉罕则纯粹是因为个人优点而伟大。在亚伯拉罕的生活中，除了父亲应该爱儿子，没有比这更高的伦理体现了。在这里，道德生活意义上的伦理是完全不可能的。就普遍性的体现程度而言，它的确潜伏在以撒身上，隐藏在以撒心里，因此它必须借助以撒的嘴喊出来：“别这样做，你在毁灭一切。”

那么亚伯拉罕为什么要这样做呢？为了上帝，也为了他自己，这两个目的是完全一样的。他为了上帝这样做，是因为上帝要求他证明他的信仰；他为了自己这样做以便能提供信仰的证据。两者的统一可以用人们常用来描述此关系的话很好地表达出来：它是一个考验，一种诱惑。但这一种诱惑是什么意思呢？我们通常所说的诱惑是某种阻止人履行义务的东西，但这儿的诱惑是那会阻止亚伯拉罕执行上帝意志的伦理本身。那么，义务又是什么呢？义务恰恰是上帝意志的表现。

在这里，我们发现为了理解亚伯拉罕，需要一个新的范畴。这种与神的关系是异教徒所不知道的。悲剧英雄不会和上帝建立私人的关系，但对他而言，伦理就是神圣者，因此这儿的悖论可以在普遍性中得到调解。

亚伯拉罕的悖论则是不能调解的，这句话也可以这样说，他不能谈论这悖论。因为只要我一说话，我就会表达出普遍性，当我不这样做的时候，就没有人能理解我。因此亚伯拉罕一旦用普遍性表达自己，他就得说他的处境是一种考验，因为对于凌驾于他所违反的普遍性之上的普遍性，他没有更高层次的表达了。

因此，尽管亚伯拉罕使我钦佩，他也使我感到惊骇。为了义务而否定自我、牺牲自我的人通常会为了抓住无限而放弃有限；这样的人足够自信。悲剧英雄放弃了确定的东西是为了获得更确定的东西，旁观者会自信地看着他。但是，那放弃普遍性去获得某种更高层次的但没有普遍性的东西的人，他在做什么呢？有没有可能它远非一场考验？如果它不是一场考验，但那个人弄错了，以为它是考验，那有什么可以拯救他？他承受了悲剧英雄所受的所有苦痛，毁了他世上所有的欢乐，抛弃了一切，也许同时他还禁止自己享受那崇高的欢乐，而这种珍贵的欢乐是他愿意付出任何代价去获得的。旁观者根本不能理解他，也不会自信地注视着他。也许那信徒打算做的事是不可能实现的，毕竟那是难以想象的。或者，如果那件事是可能的，但那个人误解了天神，那么，什么可以拯救他？那悲剧英雄，他需要眼泪，他也获得了眼泪；是的，那干枯的已经不能为阿伽门农哭泣的羡慕的眼睛在哪儿呢？那灵魂如此迷惑以致于竟敢为亚伯拉罕流泪的人在哪儿呢？悲剧英雄在时间里的某个确定时刻完成了他的伟绩，但是随着时间的推移，他还获得了某种同样重要的东西：他拜访满心悲伤的人，那人因叹息抽泣而喘不上气来，思绪悲伤泪流不止；他出现在他面前，解开了他悲伤的心结，松开了他的紧身外套，他使这个痛苦之人在他这个悲剧英雄的痛苦中忘了自己的痛苦，哄得他流出热泪。但是没有人能为亚伯拉罕哭泣。人们接近他时总是带着神圣的恐惧，就像以色列人走近西奈山时的感受一样。那么，要是那位在矗立于奥立士平原的高耸入云的摩利亚山爬行的孤独的老人，不是一个在深渊上步履稳健的梦游者，而山脚下有人看到他在那儿，担心得发抖，但出于尊敬与恐惧，甚至连对他喊叫也不敢——要是他被分心怎么办，要是他已犯了错误怎么办？——谢谢！再次感谢那向被生活苦痛折磨得已经无力保护自我，赤身露体的人伸出援助之手的人，他为他从言语上提供了遮羞叶来遮蔽他的不幸。也谢谢你，伟大的莎士比亚！你能表现一切，一切你都可以描述得无比精确，可是，为什么你从未表达这种痛苦？也许是因为你把它留给了自己，就像一个人不能忍受世人提起自己至爱之人的名字一样。因为诗人以一个他自己不能说的小秘密为代价购买了语言的力量，用来讲述别人的所有可怕秘密。诗人不是使徒，他只能靠魔鬼的力量来驱赶魔鬼。

但现在，当出于目的论的原因伦理被中止了，那个中止伦理的人如何存在呢？他是作为与普遍性相对立的个体而存在着。那么这意味着他是有罪吗？因为从罪的概念上讲，这就是罪的形式。同样道理，一个孩子意识不到自己的存在所以没有罪这一事实本身并不意味着，从概念上讲，它的存在是没有罪的，或者说，这一事实并不意味着伦理不对这孩子在所有时刻有伦理要求。如果人们否认这种形式能以非罪的方式（在成人身上）不断重复，那么就相当于已经对亚伯拉罕作出了定罪的评判。那么，亚伯拉罕是怎样存在的呢？他靠坚持信仰存在。这就是那个悖论。这一悖论使他身处绝境而又无法向别人解释清楚。这个悖论就是，他把自己作为个体置于与绝对者的绝对关系中。但是，他这样做合理吗？他的理由还是那个悖论；因为，如果他就是那悖论，他凭借的不是做某种具有普遍性的人，而是做具有个体性的人。

那么，个体如何确保自己的作为是合乎情理的？要把个体的整个存在调整到与国家或社会的思想概念相一致是一件相当容易的事情。如果一个人这样做了，他无疑很容易调解改变。那样的话，他就根本不会遇到那个悖论，即个人的个体性比普遍性更高这一悖论，我也可以用毕达哥拉斯的一个论点来适当地描述这一悖论，即奇数比偶数更完美。如果在我们这个时代有人碰巧听到了关于那个悖论的回答，它一定是这样说的：“那要以结果来评判。”一个英雄，在已经变成了同辈人进行流言蜚语的丑闻对象后，在意识到自己是一个无人能理解的悖论后，无畏地对着他的同代人大喊：“未来会证明我是正确的！”这样的呐喊现如今不常听到了，因为我们这个时代的缺点是产生不了英雄，这个时代的优势就是几乎产生不了多少讽刺漫画。在我们这个时代，无论何时我们听到“这要根据结果来判断”这句话，我们都可以立即知道我们有幸和谁在谈话。这样说话的一族成员众多，如果要给他们起一个共同的名字，我会叫他们“讲师”。他们活在自己的思想里，生活安稳无忧，他们在井然有序的国家里有稳固的职位和可靠的前程；他们和生存的动荡之间隔着千百年的距离，他们不害怕像动乱之类的事情会再次发生；因为警方和报刊会对此说什么呢？他们毕生的工作就是判断伟大之人，根据结果来评判伟人。这种对伟大的评判行为泄露出一种傲慢与可怜相混合的奇怪样子。傲慢是因为他们认为自己有下判决的使命，可怜是因为他们觉得自己的生活和伟人的生活一丁点儿都不相关。毫无疑问，任何头脑哪怕稍具一点高等思维的人在走近伟大之人时，都不会变得完全像湿冷的软体动物那样，看不到这样一个事实，即自从创世纪以来，结果通常就是最后出现，而且一个人要真想从伟人那儿学到点儿什么，他恰恰必须注意那开端。如果任何行将评判伟人的人应该要根据结果评判自己，他是绝不会开始评判这一行动的。即便结果可能会使全世界欢呼雀跃，那对英雄也没什么用；因为他是只有在整件事情结束之后才能知道结果的，他不是靠事情的结果而是靠事情的开端才成为英雄的。

更进一步来说，无论如何，结果（就其作为对无限性问题的有限性回答而言）在辩证方面，和英雄的存在是完全不相容不一致的。否则，用亚伯拉罕通过奇迹重新得到以撒这一事实来证明他采取与普遍性相对的个体性立场是合理的，这可以吗？假如亚伯拉罕真的把以撒献祭了，那是否会意味着他那样做就不那么合理了呢？

但是，是结果激起了我们的好奇心，这就像一本书的结尾令人好奇一样；我们不想知道其中的任何恐惧、不安和矛盾。我们和结果进行一种在美学意义上的调情，结果就像彩票中奖一样来得既不可预料，又轻而易举；我们在得知结果后，感觉受到启迪。然而，连因抢劫寺庙而带着锁链做苦力的强盗也不如这样掠夺圣人的罪犯卑劣低下，甚至连为了三十块银子而出卖其主人的犹大也没有比这样出售伟大的人更为可鄙。

以无人性的方式讨论伟大，使伟大在遥远的距离里褪色成模糊的轮廓，或者是描绘伟大却没有突出其里面的人性成分，从而使伟大不再是伟大，是违背我的精神的。因为使我伟大的不是在我身上发生了什么事，而是我所做的事。而且没有人会认为一个人变得伟大是因为他中了彩票大奖。即便是一个出身卑微的人，我也会要求他不要对自己如此残忍，以致他只敢远远地想象国王的城堡，模糊地憧憬着它的宏伟，想要抬高它的同时又想要通过很卑鄙的方式抬高它而毁了它。我还会要求他在国王的城堡那儿也要有尊严有自信地走近它。他不应该如此残暴以致想要通过从街上直接冲进国王的城堡而无礼地冒犯所有人。他那样做会比国王损失得还多；相反，他应该在带着快乐自信的热情去遵守每个礼节中找到愉悦的感觉，这正好可以使他光明正大。当然，这只是个类比，因为这里提及的区别只是对精神距离的一种很不完美的描述。我请每个人都不要如此不人道地妄自菲薄，以致不敢涉足那些宫殿，在那些地方居住的不仅是对那些被拣选之人的记忆，还有被拣选之人他们自己。他不应该无礼地挤上前去并把和他们的亲属关系强加到他们身上。他应该每次在他们面前鞠躬都感到高兴，但也要表现得坦率自信，并总是表现得要比清洁女工重要，因为如果他自己不想要那样表现，他就永远也进不去那儿。能帮助他的正是伟大之人被考验时所经受的恐惧悲伤。否则的话，如果他身上还有一点点骨气和热血，他们就只会使他产生合理的羡慕。而且任何只有在远距离看时才伟大的东西，任何人们想要用空洞的语言来提升的东西，都会自己化为乌有。

在这世上，有没有人曾经像那位蒙福的妇女，上帝之母，圣母玛利亚一样伟大呢？然而，我们如何谈论她呢？如果我们说她备受喜爱青睐，这并不会使她伟大，而且要是听者和说话者一样不从人性角度思考问题这事不算奇怪的话，那么，每个年轻姑娘肯定都会问，为什么我没有备受喜爱恩宠？即便我没有什么别的话可说，我也绝不会把此问题看作是愚蠢的问题而置之不理，因为就偏爱而言，从抽象意义上考虑，每个人都对此有同等的权利。她们忽略的是悲伤、恐惧和悖论。我的思想和一般人的一样纯粹，任何能够以这种方式思考的人的思想必然也会纯粹；不然的话，可怕的事情就要到来。因为一个人一旦有过这些想象，他就再也不能摆脱它们了，而且如果他违背这些想象，与它们对抗，它们就会用安静的愤怒对他进行报复，而这是比凶狠的评论家喧嚣的抨击还要可怕的。玛利亚确实是奇迹般地生下了那个孩子，但这是发生“在月经之后”，而这是个充满恐惧、悲痛和矛盾的时间。无疑，那天使是个起到辅助作用的神灵，但是他可不是个乐于助人体贴的神，他没有四处奔走去跟以色列的其他少女说：“不要鄙视玛利亚，她身上正在发生着特别的事情。”那天使只是来到玛利亚身边，而又无人能够理解她。有哪个妇女遭受过更大的羞辱轻蔑呢？难道不是这样吗？上帝总是在庇佑一个人的同时又诅咒他。这就是那个神灵对玛利亚的解释。对我而言，说圣母玛利亚绝不是个衣着华丽闲坐着和圣子玩耍的好夫人是令我不愉快的，而人们草率不负责任地这样解读她，就更令我生气了。不过，当她说“我是主的使女”时，她是伟大的。我认为要解释她为什么成了圣母是不难的。她不需要世俗的崇敬，正如亚伯拉罕不需要我们的眼泪一样，因为她不是女英雄，而他也并非英雄，但他们都变成了比英雄更伟大的人。不过，他们不是靠解除了不幸、痛苦和矛盾，而正是因为有了它们而变得更伟大。

当诗人把英雄呈现给众人以供崇拜时，敢于说“为他哭泣吧，他配得上眼泪”，这的确是伟大的；而配得上那配流泪的人的眼泪也是伟大的。诗人敢控制众人，敢训斥人们去检查自己是否配得上为英雄流泪，因为弱者啜泣时不值钱的泪水是对神圣英雄的贬低侮辱，他这样做也是伟大的。但是比这些更伟大的是，信仰骑士甚至敢于对要为他洒泪的高尚之人说：“不要为我哭泣，但要为你自己哭泣。”

我们感动了，渴望回到那些美丽的时代，这甜美温柔的渴望引领我们往想要的目标前进，去看基督在应许之地漫步。我们忘记了恐惧、苦难和悖论，可是，不会弄错是如此容易的事吗？想到这个行走于众人之间的人就是上帝，这不可怕吗？坐下和他一同就餐这不恐怖吗？成为使徒是如此容易的吗？但是，那结果，一千八百年，那是一种帮助。那一千八百年帮助了那种自欺欺人的可鄙欺骗。我没有勇敢到愿意生活在发生这样的事件的时代，但因此我不会严厉地评判当时那些弄错的人，也不会鄙夷那些明白了真相的人。

但现在，我要回到亚伯拉罕。在结果出来之前的那段时间里，要么亚伯拉罕每时每刻都被视为谋杀者，要么我们面对一个高于一切调解的悖论。

因此，亚伯拉罕的故事包含了一种从目的论意义上对伦理的暂停。作为个体，他成了高于普遍性的人。这就是一个悖论，一个不可能被调解的矛盾。他如何进入这个悖论和他如何停留在这个悖论之中是一样的无法说明，令人费解。如果亚伯拉罕的处境不是这样的，那么他就连悲剧英雄都不是，而是一个谋杀者。那样的话，想要继续称他为信仰之父，想要跟那些只关注言语的人谈论此事，就是欠考虑的。一个人可以凭自己的力量成为悲剧英雄，却不能成为信仰骑士。当一个人踏上了那成为悲剧英雄的无可否认的艰苦之路，有很多人可以给他提供忠告，但走上信仰那狭窄道路的人却没有人能够给出建议，没有人理解。信仰是个奇迹，但没有人是被排除在信仰之外的，人人都可以拥有信仰；因为将人的一切统一成一体的是激情，【6】而信仰就是激情。

问题二
对上帝有一种绝对的义务吗？

伦理是普遍性的，其本身又是神圣的。因此，从根本上讲，每种义务都是对上帝的义务，这样说是正确的。但是，如果人们就此只能说这些，那么就相当于同时也说了我实际上对上帝没有义务。这种义务通过谈及上帝才成为对上帝的义务，但我并不是在义务本身中和上帝建立关系。因而，爱自己的邻居是一种义务；它之所以是义务是因为涉及到上帝，但在履行此义务时，我进入的并不是和上帝的关系，而是和我爱的邻居的关系。如果基于这个关联，我就说爱上帝是我的义务，那我说的实际上只是无谓的同义反复，这种说法是就把上帝从完全抽象意义上理解为一种神圣存在——即普遍性，也是义务——而论的。那样的话，人的整个存在就是完全自我闭合的球体，而伦理则立即成了它的界线和内容。上帝就变成了一个无形的消没的点，一种无力的思想，但上帝的力量只是存在于伦理中，而伦理即存在的内容。所以，如果某个人想到要从上述以外的任何其他意义上爱上帝的话，那他就只是在玩奢侈，就是在爱一个幻影，如果那幻影有力量说话，它会对他说：“留在你属于的地方，我没有要求你的爱。”如果某个人想到要以别的方式爱上帝的话，这种爱会受怀疑，就像卢梭提到那些爱异教徒卡菲尔人而不爱自己邻居的人时所说的那样。

假设以上解释是正确的，假设在人类生活中没有无从比较性，而任何显现出来的不可通约的东西都是找不出结论的某种偶然，那么，就以这种思想来看存在而论，黑格尔就是对的。但是，黑格尔在谈论信仰和论及允许亚伯拉罕被视为信仰之父时却是错误的。因为在后者中，他对亚伯拉罕和信仰都作了评判。根据黑格尔哲学，外在高于内在。有一个例子常被用来阐释这一点。在这个例子中，小孩是内在的，成人是外在的；这就是为什么小孩是由外在的东西决定的，而成人，作为外在性的存在，相反，则恰恰是由内在的东西所决定的。信仰，正相反，是一种矛盾，在信仰这种悖论中，内在性要高于外在性，或者，用我们前面所用过的一个说法来说，奇数要比偶数好。

那么，在这种生活的伦理观中，一个个体的任务就是要迫使自己放弃内在的决定因素，并且把这些内在决定因素以外在的方式表现出来。每当他对此畏缩不前，每当他想坚持留在或重新退回到感情、情绪等内在性因素的领地时，他就犯了罪，他就处于一种考验中。信仰的悖论就在于，有一种与外在性不可比较的内在性，这儿要强调一下，这种内在性和前面提到的（小孩的内在性）不完全相同，是一种新的内在性。这一点不容忽视。现代哲学已经干脆爽快地容许自己用直接性的东西来代替“信仰”。如果我们那样做的话，那么否认信仰一直存在就是荒谬可笑的。那样的话，信仰就与感情、情绪、风格、歇斯底里之类相当简单普通的东西为伍了。哲学做得正确的地方是它说了人不应该止步于那些普通的东西，即人应该追求比情感之类的那些普遍的内在性因素要更高的东西。但是哲学没有理由用那样的话来说信仰。在信仰出现之前进行的是一种无限运动，只有在那之后，信仰才凭借荒诞，（出人意料地）登场了。关于这一点，我不需要借此声称我拥有信仰，也可以理解得很清楚。如果信仰仅仅是哲学所理解的那样，那么苏格拉底自己早已经超越了信仰，并且是超越了很多，而不是相反，即，他没有到达信仰这个高度。从智力方面说，他做了无限运动，他不懂的是无限弃绝。这项任务本身是人类的力量能完成的，尽管当今的人们对此持不屑态度。但只有这项任务被完成，只有人在其中筋疲力尽，排空自己，才可以到达信仰出现的地方。

那么，信仰的悖论就在于，个体是高于普遍性的，用现在很少听到的一个理论上的区别来说，个体依靠自己与绝对者的关系来决定其与普遍性的关系，而不是通过自己与普遍性的关系来决定其与绝对者的关系。也可以这样表述信仰的悖论：有一种对上帝的绝对的义务存在，因为在这种义务关系中，个人把自己作为单一的个体与绝对者绝对地联系起来。当现在的人们说爱上帝是一种义务时，是从一种与上述很不相同的意义上来说的；因为如果这种义务是绝对的，那么伦理就被还原成相对的。不过，由此一点并不能推理出伦理就要被彻底废除。只是伦理有了一种相当不同的表达，一种似非而是的表达，比如，对上帝的爱会引起信仰骑士用相反的方式表达自己对邻居的爱，而用正常的方式爱邻居，从伦理上来说，是他的义务。

如果情况并非如此，信仰在存在中便没了位置；那样的话，信仰就是一种诱惑，而亚伯拉罕也失去伟大的地位了，因为他对它屈服了。

这个悖论不容许有调节的余地：因为它恰恰是建立于个体就只是个个体这个基础之上的。个体一旦想要用普遍性表达他的绝对义务，从普遍性角度上意识到自己的绝对义务，他就会认识到自己处于一场诱惑中（即经受对信仰的考验）。而且，如果他实际上抵制这诱惑，他就不会履行那所谓的绝对义务；而如果他不抵抗它，他就犯了罪，即便他的行为是履行了他的绝对义务。那么，亚伯拉罕应该做什么呢？倘若他想要对某人说：“我爱以撒胜过爱这世上的一切，那就是为什么要献祭他对我是那么的困难。”听者肯定会摇摇头说：“那么你为什么要把他献祭呢？”或者，如果听者是个有感知力的人，也许他甚至可能看透了亚伯拉罕，意识到他正泄露出一种与他的行为非常矛盾的感情。

在亚伯拉罕的故事中，我们看到的正是这样的一个悖论。从伦理上讲，他和以撒的关系是父亲就应该爱儿子。然而，在对上帝的绝对关系对比下，这个伦理关系被还原成了相对的。对“为什么”这个问题，除了说它是一个考验，一个诱惑以外，亚伯拉罕没有答案。而这，如前所述，是两种视角的统一：他这样做是为了上帝，也是为了他自己。在常见用法中，这二者也是互相关联的。例如，当我们看见一个人在做与普遍性不一致的事情时，就会说他几乎不是为了上帝才那样做的，那样说所隐含的意思就是他是为了自己而做的。信仰的悖论已经失去了中间术语，即普遍性。一方面，它体现了极端利己主义（为了自己做这可怕的事），另一方面，它又是一种对最绝对的献身的表达（为了上帝而做它）。信仰本身是不能被调解成普遍性的东西的，因为那样的话，它就会被毁了。信仰就是这样一种悖论，个人很难使自己被人理解。我们可以想象也许该个人能使另一个处于相同境况的人理解自己。要不是现在的人们想尽办法要混进伟大之列，这样的见解就会是难以想象，无法接受的。一个信仰的骑士根本就帮不了另一个信仰骑士。一个人要么通过承受那悖论而变成信仰骑士，要么他永远不变成信仰骑士。合作关系在这里是无法想象的。要是有任何对牺牲以撒的理念更精确的解释，那这个解释就是，那个要这样做的个人只能给自己的解释。假设一个人可以从一般意义上，精确地解决如何理解献祭以撒这个问题，（这无论如何会是个最可笑的自我矛盾，也就是说，一个正好站在普遍性之外的个体，正要作为一个普遍性之外的个体去行动的时候，被带到了普遍性的范畴下），这个人永远也不能通过别人的帮助来确信这个解释是合理的，只有作为个体的他自己才可以做到这一点。所以，即便某个人非常怯懦卑鄙以致想要靠别人承担责任来成为一个信仰骑士，他也绝不会成功；因为只有一个人作为单一的个体，才可以成为骑士，这就是骑士身份的伟大之处。对此，我可以理解得很清楚，虽然我因为缺乏勇气没有达到骑士级别；不过，我同时也深知它的恐怖之处，对此，我理解得就更清楚了。

众所周知，关于对上帝的绝对义务，《路加福音》（14:26）中有一段精彩的教义：“如果任何人到我这里来，若不恨自己的父亲，母亲，妻子，儿女，兄弟，姐妹和自己的生命，就不能做我的信徒。”这是一种冷酷无情的话，谁能听得下去？因此，很少听到这句话。然而，避而不谈这句话，这样的沉默只不过是一种无济于事的逃避。不过，学神学的学生知道，这句话出现在《新约全书》中，而且，在这个那个的注释段落中，他找到了这样的信息：去恨，在这句话和其他文章中，意味着（从弱化的意义上说）爱得少一些，少重视一点，不尊敬，以及不在乎。然而，这些词所出现的上下文似乎并没有证实这种高雅的解释。因为在后面诗节中，讲了这样的一个故事：一个人想盖一座高楼，但他先估计了一下自己的能力，看能否做成这件事，唯恐自己以后成了笑柄。这故事和后面引用的诗节之间的紧密联系似乎恰恰显示了，对这些词人们应该从最恐怖的意义上去理解，以使每个人都审视一下自己盖那座楼的能力。

如果这个虔诚又温和的注释家，这个以为自己可以通过这样减价的方式把基督教偷运进这个世界的人，可以成功地使任何人都相信，从语法上、语言学上以及类比意义上，这就是那段话的意思，那么，我们就希望他这样做的同时也能设法使那同一个人相信，基督教是世界上最可怜的事情之一。因为那段教义，出现在最抒情的段落之一，而且是永恒有效性意识最明显的那段教义，除了有喧哗的言辞之外什么也没有，而那夸张的言辞除了表明人们不应那么和蔼、那么体贴，而应更加冷漠以外，没有任何意义。那教义似乎要告诉我们某种恐怖的事情，结果非但没有带来恐怖，却是胡言乱语，因此它不值得我们支持。

那些言辞是恐怖的，然而我确信，人们可以理解它们，但理解它们的人不一定有勇气去实践它们。但是我们要有足够的勇气承认该教义的存在，承认它的伟大，即便我们自己缺乏勇气去实践它。能这样做的人不会发现自己被排除在外，参与不到后面那个美丽的故事中。因为该故事从某种意义上毕竟对没有勇气开始建造那高楼的人是一种安慰。但我们必须要诚实，不能把缺乏勇气理解成谦逊，因为，其实相反，它是一种骄傲，而信仰的勇气才是唯一谦逊的勇气。

现在，我们不难看出，如果那段话要有意义，就必须逐字逐句地理解。是上帝要求绝对的爱。但是任何人，在要求另一个人的爱的时候，都会认为，这种爱必须靠后者对迄今为止自己所珍视的东西变得冷淡来证明，要求这种爱的人不仅是一个利己主义者，而且是个愚蠢之人，他要求这样一种爱就意味着他的生活就与他所渴望的这种爱紧密相连，而这就相当于同时签下了自己的死刑执行令。举例来说，一个丈夫要求妻子离开她的父母，如果他认为妻子为了他而变成一个冷淡懒惰的女儿等等就是对自己有特殊的爱的证明，那么他就是傻瓜中的傻瓜。要是他有任何爱的概念的话，他会想要发现，她在作为女儿和姐妹对他人的爱是完美的，而他若发现这一点后，也会因此确信他的妻子爱他胜过爱这世上任何其他人。因此可见，一个人身上可能会被认为是利己主义和愚蠢象征的东西，在注释家的帮助下可以把它看作称得上是神的概念的体现。

但是如何恨他们？在这儿，我不作人类爱与恨的区分，这不是因为我多么反对这种区分，这种至少是热烈情绪的区分，而是因为它是利己主义的，而且在这里不合适。不过，如果我把这个问题看作是一种悖论，那么我就理解了它，也就是，我会以人们用以理解悖论的方式来理解它。绝对的义务会要求人们做伦理禁止的事情，不过绝不会使信仰骑士停止爱。这一点亚伯拉罕可以证明。他准备献祭以撒的那一刻，他所做的事情的从伦理上表述就是：他恨以撒。但是如果他真的恨以撒，他就可以确定上帝不会向他要以撒；因为亚伯拉罕和该隐不同。他一定全身心地爱着以撒。当上帝索要以撒时，亚伯拉罕一定，如果可能的话，更加爱以撒。而且，只有在这种条件下，他才能献出以撒，因为，的确，正是他的对以撒的爱和对上帝的爱形成矛盾对比，才使他的行为成为一种牺牲。但这个悖论里的不幸和痛苦之处是，从人性的角度讲，他很难使自己被人理解。只有当他的行为和他的感情形成了绝对的矛盾的那一刻，只有那时，他才献祭以撒，他的行为才叫牺牲。但是，他的行为的现实就是他之所以属于普遍性的因素，就那方面而言，他是并且一直是一个谋杀者。

而且，人们对《路加福音》那段话一定要这样理解：信仰骑士对普遍性（也就是伦理）里任何能救自己的东西也没有更高层次的表达方式。因此，倘若教会要求它的一个成员做这样的牺牲，那么我们所能得到的就是一个悲剧英雄。因为教会的概念和国家的概念没有质上的不同，这是就个人可以通过普通媒介理解教会而论，也是就个人如果进入了悖论，就不能领悟教会的概念而言。他也不从悖论境况中跳出来，但他在其中必然会不是找到福音，就是找到诅咒。一个教会英雄在他的行动中表现出普遍性，教会里没有人，即便是他的父母等人，也会理解不了他。但是，他不是信仰骑士，他的回答也和亚伯拉罕的不一样：他不会说那是他正经受的一个诱惑考验。

我们一般会避免引用像上述《路加福音》里那段话那样的文字。因为担心人们会失去约束、随心所欲，害怕个人一旦产生个体就应表现得像个个体这样的想法，最糟糕的事情就会发生。而且，作为一个个体而存在被认为是最简单的事情，人们需要被迫去变成的是普遍性的存在。我既没有这样的担忧，也不同意这样的看法，但是是基于同一个原因。任何已认识到作为个体来存在是最可怕的事情的人不会害怕说这样也是最伟大的。但是他这样说的时候，他的言辞一定不能给随心所欲的人形成一种陷阱，相反，要有助于那个人成为普遍性的存在，尽管他的话能给伟大留下空间。不敢提及像《路加福音》里那段话那样文字的人也不敢提起亚伯拉罕。认为作为个体而存在是件很容易的事的人暗示了一种很是可疑的间接的自我承认。因为真正有自尊、关注自己灵魂的人会深信，在这整个世界里独自生活在自我监督管制下的人，比闺房少女生活得还要严格和隐僻。当然，可能有些人需要强迫，他们如果放任自流会像桀骜难驯的野兽，这一点无疑是对的。但是一个人恰恰必须通过他知道如何恐惧而战栗地说话这一事实来证明自己不属于那一类人。而且出于对伟大的崇敬，他的确应该说话，以免因害怕不良后果而使这伟大被忘记，当然，如果一个人以一种知道伟大及它的恐怖的方式说话，这最终就不会发生；如果一个人不知道伟大的恐怖之处，他也就不知道它的伟大之处。

接着，让我们更仔细地考虑信仰之悖论里的苦难和恐惧。悲剧英雄为了表达伦理的普遍性而放弃自我；信仰骑士为了成为个体的存在而放弃普遍性。如上所述，一切都取决于人是处于怎样的境况和立场。认为作为个体存在很容易的人肯定永远也不会是信仰骑士，因为流浪者和游民不是有信仰的人。与此相反，信仰骑士明白属于普遍性世界是光荣的。他知道把自己转变成普遍性存在的个体是美丽而善良的，这样的人可以说是重塑了一个整洁优雅的自我版本，尽可能地干净无瑕，尽可能地易于每个人理解；信仰骑士还知道，当一个人在普遍性中变得易于他自己理解，以便自己理解普遍性，以便每个理解自己的人又反过来通过自己而理解普遍性，并且双方都为在普遍性中获得的安全感而欢庆，这是令人心旷神怡的事情。信仰骑士还知道，一个人生来就有普遍性作为自己的家园，作为他的永久友好居住地，这个家园会在他想逗留的时候立即张开双臂接收他，这是很美好的。但是信仰骑士同时也知道，在更高处有一条孤独的崎岖之路，狭窄而又陡峭；他知道，生来就孤独地存在于普遍性之外，独自行走而碰不见一个旅行者是十分可怕的。他很清楚自己的位置，知道自己和人们的关联。从正常人性角度讲，他是疯子，无法使自己被任何人理解。而其实，说他是“疯子”是最温和的表达。如果他不被人如此看待，他就是个伪君子；他在那条路上爬得越高，他就变成越发可怕的伪君子。

信仰骑士知道，放弃自己而向普遍性屈服投降是激励人的，要这样做需要勇气，而且正是因为这样做是为了普遍性，其中还有一定的安全感。信仰骑士知道，被每个高尚之人理解，而且是以一种旁观者由此也变得高尚的方式被理解，是光荣的。这一点他知道，但感到自己似乎受到约束，他希望这是他被指派的任务。同样，亚伯拉罕一定也时不时地希望他的任务就是以一种符合父亲标准的方式爱以撒，这是所有人都可以理解的爱的方式，是会流芳千古的爱的方式。他一定还希望他的使命就是把以撒献给普遍性，以激励父亲们去效仿辉煌行为。他一定还为下面这样的想法感到恐怖，即对他而言，这样的希望仅仅是诱惑而且必须被当作诱惑对待；因为他明白自己走的是一条孤寂之路，明白自己除了正被考验之外，没有为普遍性做什么。又或者，亚伯拉罕为普遍性做了什么事？让我从人性的角度，真正人性的角度，谈论它！他用了七十年才老来得子。别人很快就得到并享受了很久的快乐，他花了七十年才得到。这是为什么呢？因为他在受检测和考验。那不是疯狂和异常吗？但是亚伯拉罕坚持了信仰，只有撒拉动摇了信仰，让他接受夏甲作妾，但这也是为什么他不得不把她驱走的原因。他后来有了以撒，接着他又要被考验了。他知道表现普遍性是光荣的，和以撒一起生活是美好的。但这不是他的使命。他知道为了普遍性牺牲这样的一个儿子是高贵的行为，他自己会从中找到安宁，而每个人也会在他们对这个行为的称颂中找到寄托，这就像元音依靠辅音一样，但这不是他的使命——他在受考验。那个叫拖延者的罗马著名将军通过拖延战术阻挠了敌人，然而相比之下，亚伯拉罕是怎样的拖延者呢？！而他不是在拯救国家。亚伯拉罕的父亲一百三十岁才生的他啊，这是一百三十年生命的结果，谁能忍受得了这样的拖延？亚伯拉罕的同龄人——如果可以这样称呼他们的话——能不会这样说吗：“亚伯拉罕身上永远有一种拖延在发生；当他终于得到了儿子——那也花费了够长的时间——他却想要把他献祭给上帝。所以他不是疯了吗？要是他至少能解释他为什么要那样做就好了，但是，不，他总是解释说那是个‘考验’”？亚伯拉罕也不能给出进一步的解释，因为他的生活就像是一本被神没收了的书，永远也不会变成公共财产。

这就是亚伯拉罕故事的恐怖之处。任何看不到这一点的人可以确定绝不是信仰骑士。但是的确能看出这一点的人不会否认，与信仰骑士的缓慢爬行似的步伐相比，即便是经受最大考验的悲剧英雄行走时步伐也像舞蹈步伐。看出这一点而又意识到自己没有勇气理解它的人，至少能些许理解到那个信仰骑士所获得的荣耀：那骑士变成了上帝的知己，主的朋友，而且从人类的角度说，他得以称天堂的上帝为“你”，而即便是悲剧英雄也只能用第三人称称呼上帝。

悲剧英雄很快就可以成就，他的斗争也很快就能结束；他做了无限运动，现在在普遍性中获得安全。但是信仰骑士却无法入睡，无法休息，因为他不断地经受着考验，而且他随时都有可能充满忏悔地返回到普遍性中来，这种可能性也可以像真相一样是一种诱惑考验。他无法从任何人那儿得到关于此事的启示，否则他就会处于那悖论之外。

因此，信仰骑士首先要拥有的是把他所违反的整个伦理集中于一个因素的激情；他可以确定自己真的全身心地爱着以撒。【7】如果他做不到这一点，他就处于诱惑的考验中。接下来，他还要有足够的激情能在转瞬之间完整地唤起这种确信，还要使它像第一步里一样有效。如果他做不到，他就不能开始，因为那样的话，他一定会不断地从头开始。悲剧英雄也专注于他在目的论意义上所超越的伦理，但在这方面，他有普遍性作支持。而信仰骑士却只有自己，恐怖之处就在于此。大多数人让自己的义务一次持续一天，但是那样的话，他们的专注绝达不到如此的激情，他们对义务的意识也绝达不到如此的强烈。普遍性从某种意义上也许可以帮助悲剧英雄获得这一点，但是信仰骑士却一切都只能靠自己。悲剧英雄在行动中可以在普遍性中找到安宁，信仰骑士却永远处于紧张之中。阿伽门农放弃依菲琴尼亚，从而在普遍性中找到安宁，接着他就可以开始献祭依菲琴尼亚的行动。要是阿伽门农没有做这运动，要是在那关键时刻，他没有充满激情的专注，而是一心想着听到的关于他应该要好几个女儿，或者也许离奇的事情可能会发生的无聊闲谈，那么自然他就不会是个英雄而只是个可怜的人。亚伯拉罕也具有那英雄的专注，尽管因为他在普遍性中没有支柱，在他这种情况下要有这种专注要困难得多；但他多做了一个运动，借助于此他全身心地专注于创造奇迹。倘若亚伯拉罕没有这样做，他也就会只是个阿伽门农，只要他能解释得出他愿意献出以撒这事如何在没有有利于普遍性的情况下是合理的。

个人是否真的处于诱惑考验中，或是否真是信仰骑士，只有他自己可以判断。不过，基于悖论制定出一些即便是不处于悖论中的人也能理解的标准还是有可能的。真正的信仰骑士永远是绝对孤立的，而假骑士则是宗派主义的。后者试图跳出悖论的狭窄道路，变成一个廉价的悲剧英雄。悲剧英雄表现了普遍性并为此献身。宗派主义者，相反，拥有自己的私人剧院，也就是，有几个好朋友和同志，他们可以像《金色鼻烟盒》里的小吏代表很好地代表正义一样代表普遍性。但是，信仰骑士就是那悖论，他是个个体，绝对的只有自己一个个体，没有其他联系或复杂因素。这是那弱小的宗派主义者所不能忍受的恐怖之处。而那宗派主义侏儒并没有从这恐怖之处意识到自己无法达到这种伟大，并因此而坦率地承认这一点（这是我会情不自禁赞同的，因为我自己也会这样做），这可怜可鄙之人以为他可以通过和其他同类合伙一起成就那伟大。但这是不会起作用的，因为精神世界不容忍欺骗。十二个宗派主义者手拉手联合起来，他们对等待信仰骑士的种种孤独的诱惑考验一无所知，信仰骑士不敢回避这些诱惑考验，正因为他知道如果自己贸然强进情况就会更恐怖。那些宗派主义者的喧嚣和吵嚷声震得彼此都要聋了，他们用尖叫来抵抗恐惧，这样像周日出游的欢呼的人群会以为他们正冲向天堂，以为他们和信仰骑士走的是同一条道路，而信仰骑士其实是在与世隔绝的寂静中，担负着可怕的责任孤独前行。

信仰骑士只能依赖他自己，他感受到不能使别人理解自己的痛苦，但他并没有那种虚荣的想要指引他人的欲望。这痛苦能使他确信自己走在正确的道路上，他太认真，因而不会有虚荣的欲望。假信仰骑士因为迅速精通指引人之术很容易泄露他的真实身份。他没有领悟的一点是，如果另一个人想要走相同的路，他必须是完全的单独的个体，不需要任何人的建议，更不需要从急于把自己的建议强加于人的人那儿获得建议。同样在这里，忍受不了做不被人理解的烈士的人跳离这条道路，选择了一条方便之路，在这条路上有世人对他们精通此道表达钦佩。真正的信仰骑士是个见证者，绝不是个教师，他的深刻人性就在于此。这深刻人性比那对别人祸福的愚蠢的关心要更有价值，因为那对别人的关心是以同情的名义而受人尊敬，但它其实只不过是虚荣心而已。因此，一个只想做见证人的人会承认，没有哪个人，即便是最卑贱的人，需要他人的同情，或是应该被贬低以使他人抬高自己。但是，因为他自己赢得的东西并不是廉价地轻易得来的，所以他也不会廉价地卖掉它；他也不是小气到接受人们的钦慕后，回报给他们的是轻蔑的沉默，他知道，真正伟大的东西是人人同样都可以得到的。

所以，要么存在对上帝的绝对的义务，那样的话，它就是如前所述的悖论，即作为个体的个人高于普遍性，并且作为个体与绝对者【8】处于一种绝对的关系中；要么，信仰就因为一直存在而从未存在过，或者换言之，亚伯拉罕就丧失了其伟大地位，而人们就必须以那高雅的注释家的方式去解释《路加福音》14节那段话，并用同样的方式解释相应的和类似的段落。

问题三
亚伯拉罕对撒拉、以利亚撒和以撒隐瞒自己的目的，这在伦理上合乎情理吗？

伦理本身是有普遍性的东西；而作为有普遍性的东西，它是有无蔽性的。而个人，作为直接的、有感觉、有精神和灵魂的存在物，则是隐藏的。因此，他的伦理任务就是从这隐藏状态中打开自我，在普遍性中显露自己，变得无隐蔽性。这样，每当他想要保持隐蔽性状态，他就犯了罪，处于诱惑的考验中，他只有通过显露自我才能从中脱离出来。

如此，我们发现自己再次回到同一地点。如果没有一种基于个体高于普遍性的隐蔽性，那么亚伯拉罕的行为就不可辩护，因为他无视那些直接的伦理因素。但是，如果有这样的一种隐藏性，那么，我们就面临一个悖论，一个无法调解的悖论，这正是因为，这悖论是以个人作为个体高于普遍性这一点为基础的，而那普遍性正是用以调解的媒介。黑格尔派哲学认为，不存在合乎情理的隐藏性，也不存在合乎情理的不能通约性或者叫无从比较性，因而这和它对无蔽性的要求是一致的，但是它想把亚伯拉罕视为信仰之父和谈论信仰则不是很公平合理。因为信仰不是最开始的直接性，而是后来的直接性。最开始的直接性是美学性的，在这里黑格尔哲学很可能是正确的。但是，信仰不是美学性的，或者如果说它是，那么就可以说，信仰因为一直存在而从未存在。

这里最好从纯美学的角度来研究一下整个问题，并为此开始美学探究，我想请读者暂时全情投入这研究，而同时我自己也相应地改变我的描述方式。我想更仔细一点研究的范畴是有趣的事物，这一范畴在今天我们这个时代（正因为我们生活在人类事务的转折点上）已经变得非常重要，因为它实际上就是危机范畴。因此，人们不应该在自己全力热爱过这一范畴之后，像有些人那样，因为自己经历过它，超越了它，就蔑视它。但是我们也对此过于贪婪，因为，可以确定的是，要变成有趣的人或过有趣的生活，这和你擅长做什么没有关系，它是一种重大的特权，这种特权，像精神世界的所有特权一样，只有通过深重的痛苦来获得。例如，苏格拉底是在这世上生活过的最有意思的人，他所过的生活是所有生活中最有意思的生活，但是这种存在是神分配给他的，而且既然他不得不为之奋斗，他对麻烦和痛苦而言绝不是陌生人。亵渎这样的存在的人不会成为认真生活的人，然而，现如今，这样的例子并不少见。更进一步来说，有趣这一范畴是一个边界范畴，它是美学和伦理学之间的边界。因为这个原因，我们在探究中必须不断地扫视伦理学领地，为了使我们的探究有重要性，我们必须带着真正的审美情感来领会问题。我们现在这个时代，伦理学很少考虑这些事宜。原因应该是伦理学体系里没有容纳它们的合适空间。那么，人们在专题论文里做这样的研究应该是没问题的，而且，如果人们不想写得冗长啰唆，也可以写得言简意赅却达到同样的目的，只要人们能用好谓语，因为一两个谓语便可揭示出整个世界。伦理学体系里能没有像谓语这样的小词语的一点儿空间吗？

亚里士多德在他的不朽名作《诗学》里写道：“的确，故事的两个部分，即命运突变［突转，（悲剧情节的关键）］和发现，与这些事有关。”当然，在这里，我只关心第二个特点，即发现。有发现这个问题的地方就暗示着先前有一种隐藏存在。所以，正如发现是戏剧性生活中解决矛盾性、放松性的因素，隐藏就是生活之剧中制造紧张的因素。亚里士多德在同一章里关于悲剧中命运突转和认知两者之间是否有冲突撞击的不同价值的讨论，以及他对单一发现和双重发现的论述，我在此不加以探讨，尽管他的讨论中体现出真诚和安静的专注，这对早已厌倦那些学者们百科全书似的肤浅的人而言是特别有吸引力的。这里，一个更为概括的评论就够了。在希腊悲剧中，隐藏（而后发现）是一种史诗般的幸存，这种幸存是以戏剧化行为隐蔽起来这样的命运为基础，它也从这种命运中获得了它的模糊神秘的起源。这就是为什么希腊悲剧所产生的效果类似于那种眼睛缺乏力量的大理石雕像给人的印象。希腊悲剧是盲目的。因此，要想正确地欣赏它，需要进行一定的抽象处理。一个儿子杀了父亲，但他后来才知道他杀的人是自己的父亲。一个姐姐正要牺牲弟弟，但在一个决定性时刻才发现他的身份。我们这个反思性的时代不大可能对这种性质的悲剧感兴趣。现代戏剧已经放弃了宿命这个理念，并且从戏剧性方面解放了自己。它仔细观察，也彻底检查自己，还从戏剧意识角度考虑命运。隐藏和显露因而成了英雄的自由行为，他为自己的行为负责。

发现和隐藏在现代戏剧里同样作为必要因素存在。要举这样的例子就会扯远了。我很谦恭地认为，在我们这个时代，每个人在美学上都如此肆意骄奢，如此有能力，如此激奋，以至于他们就如同亚里士多德所说的松鸡那样，那松鸡只要听到公鸡的声音或公鸡在头顶飞过的响声就很兴奋，他们对一种概念也可以很轻易地作出想象。我设想，我们这个时代每个人只要听到“隐藏”这一单词，就能从袖子里抖落出一打浪漫故事和喜剧故事来。因此，我在这里只简要地直接给出一个相当宽泛概括的评论。如果做隐藏的人，也就是说，把引起戏剧性因素引入喜剧的人，藏了某种无意义的东西，我们就会得到喜剧。但是，如果那藏匿者明白隐藏的概念，他就可能接近于变成悲剧英雄。这儿我就举一个喜剧例子吧。一个男人化了妆，带上假发，他渴望在美丽异性那儿获得青睐。他确信，化妆和假发无疑会使自己令人难以抗拒，所以会有很多成功。他捕获了一位姑娘，正处在幸福的顶点。现在，让我们看看故事的实质意义。如果他能承认自己的欺术，一旦他显露出自己普通，实际上甚至秃顶的样子，难道他不会失去他迷人的魅力吗？难道他不会再次失去所爱之人吗？隐藏是他的自由行为，而美学使他为此行为负责。但是美学这个学科绝不是秃头的伪君子的朋友，而会使他受人嘲笑。既然我们这里不把喜剧包括在探究的兴趣课题之内，这个例子就足以表明我的意思。

我的探究步骤是辩证地研究隐藏在美学和伦理学上扮演的角色，目的是揭示美学性的隐藏和悖论之间的绝对不同。

先举几个例子吧。一个姑娘和某人悄悄恋爱了，不过双方都还没向对方坦白这份爱。姑娘的父母强迫她嫁给另一个人（她甚至可能考虑到应尽的孝道而服从）。她服从了父母的意愿。她隐藏起自己的爱，“为了不使对方难过，没有人会知道她的痛苦”。或者另一个故事版本：一个小伙子身处两难之境：只要说出那个字，他就可以得到他魂牵梦萦的对象。但是，这个小小的字却会危害到，是的，甚至（谁知道呢）毁了整个家庭。于是，他高尚地选择继续隐藏自己的情感，“绝不能让那女孩知道，这样她也许能在另一个人那儿找到幸福”。这两个人都对各自所爱之人隐瞒了感情，他们互相隐瞒，这是多么可怜啊！否则的话，一个非凡的更优秀的结合就可能产生。他们的隐藏行为是自由行为，甚至从美学意义上讲他们也为此行为负责。不过，美学是一个可敬的多愁善感的学科，它知道的修理东西的方式比物业经理助理知道的还多。那么，它做什么呢？它做一切可能之事来帮助相爱之人。机缘巧合，那相恋双方的规划婚姻里的伴侣得知了对方的高尚决定。接着进行了种种解释。他们得到了彼此，而且作为额外收获，还进入了真英雄的行列。而尽管他们甚至都没有时间去好好考虑他们英雄般的决定，美学还是把他们当作似乎已经为这个决定勇敢地奋斗了多年来对待。因为美学不怎么在乎时间问题，不管是严肃认真还是玩笑，时间在美学里都一样快速地飞逝。

但是，伦理学既不知道这样的巧合，也不懂得多愁善感。它也没有时间飞逝的概念。这样的话，事情就有了不同的一方面。你不能和伦理学争辩，因为它运用的是纯粹的范畴。它也不诉诸于经验。因为经验在所有可笑的事情里也许是最可笑的，它远不能使人英明，如果一个人不懂得任何比经验更高等的东西的话，那么，经验很快就会使他发疯。伦理学也没有什么巧合偶然，所以不需要对事情作种种解释。它不玩弄尊严，它把责任的重担压在英雄孱弱的双肩，它谴责英雄想要在他的行为中扮演上帝是一种傲慢放肆，但也谴责他想要通过他承受的痛苦来这样做。它命令人相信现实，嘱咐人要有勇气反抗现实的所有磨难，而不是反抗他自己承担责任时所受的苍白的痛苦；它警告要提防把信仰置于理性的精明计算之中，这计算比古代的神谕还不牢靠。它警告不要不合时宜的慷慨大度。让现实决定需要显示勇气的场合吧。不过，伦理学同时也会提供所有可能的帮助。如果在那二人之间有某种更深刻的东西在涌动，如果他们有看到这任务，并开始着手行动的认真态度，那么无疑他们会产生某种东西。但是伦理学不会帮助他们。因为他们对它隐瞒了一个秘密，一个他们自己要承担责任的秘密，伦理学觉得受到了冒犯。

所以说，美学要求隐秘行为并回报这种行为；而伦理学要求显露，要求公开隐秘，并惩罚隐秘行为。

但是，有时候，即便是美学也要求公开要求显露。当那被美学幻想所俘虏的英雄认为自己可以通过沉默救另一个人时，美学要求沉默并褒奖它。但当英雄的行为会干涉到另一人的生活时，美学则又要求公开隐秘。现在我谈论的是悲剧英雄。这里我们思考一下欧里庇得斯的《奥利斯的依菲琴尼亚》。阿伽门农正准备献祭依菲琴尼亚那一情节。此刻美学要求阿伽门农保持沉默，因为从别人那儿寻求安慰不符合英雄的身份，而且出于对女人的担心，他也应该尽可能长久地对她们隐瞒。但是，从另一方面来说，英雄，正因为要当英雄，才必须受到克吕泰墨斯特拉（阿伽门农的妻子）和依菲琴尼亚的泪水的考验。美学怎么办？它有个权宜之计。它让站在旁边的一个老仆人把一切透露给了克吕泰墨斯特拉。那么一切就顺理成章了。

但是，伦理学里没有巧合，没有随时待命的老仆人。美学的理念一旦运用到现实里就会自相矛盾。因此，伦理学要求公开披露【9】。那悲剧英雄没有成为美学幻想的俘虏，他自己完成了告诉依菲琴尼亚她的命运这个任务，这个行为正好显示了伦理勇气。在这方面，悲剧英雄是伦理学的宠儿，她对他甚为满意。但如果他保持沉默，也许是因为他这样做可以使别人好过些，又或许是这样可以使他自己好过些。但悲剧英雄知道他不受后一个动机的影响。他保持沉默是因为他要作为个体承担责任，他忽视任何外界的议论。但是，作为悲剧英雄，他不能这样做。因为正是由于他一贯表现普遍性，伦理学才爱他。他的英雄行为需要勇气，而他那勇气的一部分本身就是不躲避争论。但是一个人的眼泪是一种为了自己个人利益的可怕争辩，而无疑有那种不为任何事物所动却可能被眼泪所撼动的人。那个剧本里有让依菲琴尼亚哭泣的情节。实际上，像耶弗他的女儿一样，她应该被允许哭泣两个月，而且不是孤独地哭泣，而是在她父亲的脚边。她应该使出浑身解数哭泣，不是用橄榄枝，而是用自己缠住父亲的腿（cf. v. 1224）。美学要求公开透露秘密，但是是通过巧合的方式；伦理学也要求公开秘密，它却是在悲剧英雄身上得到满足。

尽管伦理对公开秘密的要求很严格，但不可否认的是，保密和沉默，作为内在情感的决定因素，的确使一个人伟大。当埃莫离开塞琪时，他对她说：“如果你保持沉默，你将生一个圣婴，但是如果你透露了这个秘密，你就会只生个凡人。”悲剧英雄这种伦理学的宠儿，是有纯粹人性的人，我可以理解这种人，他一切的所作所为都是公开的。但是如果我进一步思考，就会碰到那个悖论，神圣者和魔鬼；因为沉默就是这两者。沉默是魔鬼的陷阱；一个人沉默越多，魔鬼就变得越可怕；但是沉默又是神灵与个人之间的默契交融。

然而，在我们回到亚伯拉罕的故事之前，我想介绍几个具有诗意的角色。通过对他们施加辨证的力量，我将把他们置于绝境，同时借助绝望对他们的蹂躏，我阻止他们静止不动，这样，处于痛苦中的他们也许有可能揭示出点什么，给人启迪。【10】

亚里士多德在他的《政治学》里，讲了一个在特尔斐（希腊古都）发生的由一桩婚事引发的一场政治骚乱。一位新郎，因为占卜师预言他会在即将结婚之际遭遇不幸，于是他在就要去迎接新娘时，突然改变了计划，不打算进行婚礼了。这种情节就是我所需要的。【11】在特尔斐，这肯定是引人潸然泪下的。如果一个诗人描述此事，他肯定可以指望引人同情。在生活中经常被流放的爱情在此还要被剥夺上天之助的机会，难道这不可怕吗？难道婚姻是天作之合这条古谚语在此要蒙羞了吗？在通常情况下，是有限运动的考验和苦难，它们像恶鬼幽灵一样试图拆散恋人们，而爱情本身则有上天这个神圣同盟帮助，会战胜一切敌人。此处发生的则是上天本身要拆散它自己促成的联姻。谁能猜到会这样？新娘是最难预料到这样的事的。片刻之前，她还盛装端坐在闺房，可爱的女仆已经精心地打扮好她，准备向世人证明她们的手艺。打扮新娘的过程给她们带来的不只是开心，甚至还有羡慕；她们开心的是她们已不可能变得更加羡慕，因为新娘已经美丽得无以复加了。独坐在闺房时的她已经从一个美女变成了另一个美女，所有可以用的适合她的美的妆扮之术都用上了。但是，还缺了一样这些女仆们没有想到的东西，它是一个面纱，比女仆们用来遮盖她的面纱还要更精美，更轻柔而且更有遮蔽性。这是一种女仆所不知道的也不知如何帮她穿的婚纱，是的，连新娘自己也不知道如何获得它和穿上它。它是一种看不见的，友好的力量，这种力量以在新娘不知情的情况下妆扮她，包裹住她为乐趣。因为新娘所看见的是新郎在经过走向神庙的路，看到门在他身后关上，她变得更加镇静和喜悦，因为她只知道他现在更加属于自己了。庙门打开，他走了出来，但她端庄文雅地垂下眼睛，因此她没有看见他神色不安。但是他却看见上天嫉妒新娘的美丽和自己的幸运。庙门打开了，女仆们看到新郎走了出来，但她们没有看到他神色不安，她们正忙于把新娘接过来。接着，她文雅谦恭地走了出来，而同时又像被伴娘簇拥的王后，伴娘像通常那样对新娘鞠躬行礼。这样，她站在她那可爱的队列之首等待——却只有一瞬间，因为那庙就在附近——新郎走了过来，却又走过了她的门口。

但我就此打住。因为我不是个诗人，我只辩证地分析事物。首先必须要记住，是在关键时刻，英雄才得知将要发生的事，所以他是清白而无可责备的，他并没有轻浮而不负责任地要和爱人联姻。其次，在他面前的，或确切地说，与他作对的，是神谕，所以他不像那些受狂妄自负所控制的微弱的恋人们。此外，更不用说，这神谕使他同新娘一样难过，甚至可以说他更难过，因为毕竟他是她的不幸的起因。的确，占卜师只是为他预言了灾难，但问题是这灾难是否是一种会同时影响到他们的婚姻幸福的灾难。那么他该怎么办？（1）他是否应保持沉默并举行婚礼？同时想着“也许这灾难不会立即发生，无论如何，我对爱人是真诚的，我也不怕使自己难受；但我必须保持沉默，否则连这短暂的时刻也会丧失”。这听起来可行，但实际上绝非如此，因为他若这样做就是侮辱了他的爱人。他的保持沉默从某种意义上说就使她有罪，因为她若知道真相，她绝不会同意这样的联姻。所以，在艰苦时刻，他要承受的不仅是灾难不幸，还有保持沉默的责任以及她对他沉默不语隐瞒秘密所感到的义愤。（2）他是否应保持沉默而且不结婚？那样的话，他就必须进行欺骗，以使自己废除与她的关系。美学可能赞同这样做。那么那灾难就可以像真实故事里那样发生，不过，在最后时刻，会有解释，尽管这解释已经太迟了，因为从美学上必须让他死，除非美学能找到废除那宿命预言的方式。然而，这行为尽管高尚，但它是对那姑娘及其爱情的侮辱和犯罪。（3）他该说出实情吗？当然，我们不应忘记，英雄若认为放弃爱情的重要性和一笔不成功的生意的重要性没有区别，这样未免有些过于诗人气质了。如果他说了实情，那么，整件事就会变成像阿克塞尔和沃尔伯格那样的不幸爱情故事。他们会变成一对上天自己拆散的恋人。不过，在眼下这个例子中，这个拆散要从不同的角度来看待，因为它也是个人的自由行为的结果。对这个例子的辩证分析的最难之处在于该不幸只会影响新郎。那么，这俩人，不像阿克塞尔和沃尔伯格那样，可以找到一种表达他们痛苦的共同语言，因为那俩人对彼此同等亲近，上天从双方的角度均匀平等地拆散这段姻缘。【12】如果这个例子里的情况亦是如此，那么就可以找到一个出路。因为既然上天没有用可见的力量来拆散他们，而是留给他们自己作决定，那么我们很容易可以想象到他们会藐视天庭和它所预言的灾难，最终结合在一起。

然而，伦理学会要求他说出实情。那样的话，他的英雄主义的本质就在于他放弃了美学上的高尚慷慨这一事实。而这在此几乎不能被认为含有任何与隐瞒有关的虚荣的掺合物，既然他一定很清楚是他使那个女孩难过。但是，这种英雄主义实际上基于这样一个事实：他本可以有机会拥有真爱却取消了这种假设（他真挚地爱她，为了她而不是为自己而保持沉默。——英译者注）；因为否则的话，我们就会有足够的英雄，尤其是在我们这个无比精通于伪造的时代，这个时代擅长跳过中间环节伪造最高标准的赝品。

但是，既然我超越不了悲剧英雄，为什么要有上述的概述呢？因为这概述有可能揭示前面所述的悖论。这都取决于我们的英雄与占卜师所说的话之间的关系，这话无论如何将决定他的生活。那占卜师的话是公开性的宣告还是私人性的呢？故事的场景是在希腊；占卜师的话是所有人都可以理解的——我不仅仅是说每个人可以从词法上理解那话的内容，而是说每个人可以领会占卜师所传达的是上天的决定。所以占卜师的话不仅英雄可以理解，而且每个人都可以理解，这样他的话表达的就绝不是和神灵之间的私人性质的关系。他可以做他想做的，但是被预言的事终将会发生，不管是通过做任何事情还是通过克制自己不做任何事情他都不能更接近神灵，也不能变成神灵怜悯或愤怒的对象。所预言的结果对任何人和英雄而言都是易于理解的，也没有只有英雄才可以读懂的秘密代码。所以他要是想要说出实情的话，他完全可以说得很清楚，因为他可以使自己得到理解；而如果他想要保持沉默，那也是因为他想要通过做单一的个体，成为高于普遍性的人，想要用各种关于她如何会很快忘记悲伤的奇怪幻想来欺骗自己，等等。然而，如果上天的意志不是由占卜师来向他宣告的，如果上天的意志以一种私密的方式让他知道，如果这意志将自己置于一种和他相当私密的关系中，那么我们就遇上了那悖论——假设有这样的一种东西（既然我这儿的反思呈现出一种进退两难的形式）——那么，不管他可能有多么想要说出实情，他也不能说。他非但没有在沉默中享受快乐，反而承受了痛苦。然而对他而言，这痛苦正是使他确信自己做了正确的事情的东西。所以，他沉默的原因并不是他想把自己作为单一的个体置于与普遍性的绝对关系中，而是把自己作为单一的个体置于与绝对的绝对关系中。在我看来，他这样做也会找到平静安宁，但是，伦理的要求会不断地搅扰他高尚的沉默。人们只是很渴望美学可以从它多年前停止的地方起步，从对高尚的幻想开始。一旦它这样做了，它就会和宗教联手协作，因为宗教是唯一能够将美学从它与伦理的冲突中拯救出来的力量。伊丽莎白女王就是为了国家，通过签署了埃塞克斯死亡令的方式牺牲了她对他的爱。这是一个英雄主义行为，即便里面涉及到因为他没有送给她戒指这样的事引起的一点个人抱怨。其实，我们知道，他的确送了她戒指，但是这戒指被某个恶意的宫女隐瞒了。据说（如果我没弄错的话），伊丽莎白得知此事后，咬着一根手指，静坐了十天，一言不发，于是郁郁而终。这对于知道如何撬开人们嘴巴窥探真相的诗人而言是个好素材；否则的话，它至多对芭蕾舞大师有用，的确，现如今的诗人常常把自己与芭蕾舞大师混淆起来。

接着，我想简述一下涉及到着魔之人的事物。为此我将利用一下《艾格尼丝和雄性人鱼》的传说。雄性人鱼是一个从隐蔽的深渊中跃出的诱惑者，在疯狂的欲望控制下，他抓住和毁了那朵静立于海岸边无辜的美丽鲜花，它当时正低头作沉思状倾听着大海的咆哮。目前诗人们就是这样阐释这个传说的。让我们做个改变吧。那雄性人鱼是个诱惑者。他呼唤艾格尼丝，并用他的甜言蜜语从她那儿骗得了她心中的秘密。她从雄性人鱼身上找到了她所寻求的东西，找到了她凝视大海深处所要找的东西。艾格尼丝愿意追随他而去。那雄性人鱼已将她抱入怀中，艾格尼丝则充满信任地用胳膊缠绕住着他的脖子；她全身心地将自己献给了这个更强的人。他已经到了海边，弯腰准备带着他的猎物潜入海中。就在那时，艾格尼丝再次注视着他，那目光不是充满畏惧，不是充满怀疑，不是带着对自己姣好外表的骄傲，也没有沉醉于欲望之中，而是带着绝对的信任，绝对的谦恭，就像她自视为的一朵低下的鲜花；她带着绝对的信任把自己全部的命运托付于他。看！大海不再咆哮，它的狂野的吼声已静下来，大自然的激情——它是这人鱼的力量——遗弃了他，大海变得一片死寂。而艾格尼丝依然那样注视着他。于是人鱼崩溃了，他抵抗不了纯真无邪的力量，他的原有本性背叛了他，他不能够引诱艾格尼丝。于是他又带她回了家，他对她解释说他只是想给她看看大海在平静时有多美丽，而艾格尼丝也相信他说的话。接着他独自返回，大海又狂暴怒吼着，但更加汹涌澎湃的是人鱼的绝望之心。他能够引诱艾格尼丝，他能够引诱成百上千个艾格尼丝，他可以迷住任何女孩，但是艾格尼丝已战胜了他，人鱼已失去了她。只有作为捕获的战利品她才能属于他；而他不能忠实于任何姑娘，因为他只是个人鱼。在此，我冒昧地在这人鱼身上做了一点改变。【13】实际上，我也对艾格尼丝做了些许改变。在那传说中，艾格尼丝也绝不是没有罪过。而且，一般来说，想象一个姑娘在一件引诱之事中绝对地无可责备，是一种胡说，一种对女性的轻视和侮辱。用一种有点现代化的说法来说，在那传说中，艾格尼丝是一个渴求“有趣之事”的女性，每个这样的女人总是确信海面上有雄性人鱼；而人鱼们密切关注这类人，他们会像鲨鱼追踪猎物一样对此类人尾随不放。因此，认为（或者，这是否是人鱼散布的一种谣言？）所谓的文化修养可以保护女孩不受引诱是十分愚蠢的。不，不是这样的，生活是更公正合理的；只有一种保护手段，那就是纯真无那。

现在，我们将赋予人鱼人类的意识，同时假设他作为人鱼存在意味着一种人的前生（预先存在），因为这前生他的生活变得纠缠混乱。没有什么可以阻止他成为英雄；因为他现在所做的事都是调解性的。他被艾格尼丝拯救了，引诱者已被彻底击垮了，他已屈服于纯真的力量，他再也无力诱惑人了。但是立即有两种力量试图控制他：忏悔（独自忏悔）和对艾格尼丝忏悔。如果独自忏悔控制住了他，那么他可以保持隐蔽，如果对艾格尼丝忏悔控制住了他，那么他就被暴露了。

然而，如果只是忏悔掌控住了他，而他又保持隐秘的话，那么他必定会使艾格尼丝不快乐；因为艾格尼丝无比纯真地爱着他，即便在她看来他似乎在那一瞬间变了似的，不管他隐藏得多么好，说他只是想让她看看大海的平静之美，即便在那个时刻，她依然相信他。但是，就情感而言，人鱼自己甚至变得更不开心。因为他怀着多重情感爱着艾格尼丝，而且还要承受新的负疚感。无疑，忏悔的魔性一面会对他解释说，这正是对他的惩罚（因为他前生的过错），并说这惩罚越折磨他，就越好。

如果他屈服于这种魔性因素，他可能会再次尝试救助艾格尼丝，他会用从某种意义上诉诸邪恶的方式来救一个人。他知道艾格尼丝爱他。如果他能从艾格尼丝那儿挣脱她对自己的爱，那么，从某种意义上来说，她就得救了。但是如何做到这一点呢？人鱼很明智，他不会认为开诚布公地坦白可以引起她对自己的厌恶。那么他也许会尝试去激起她所有的负面情绪，去蔑视她，嘲笑她，讥笑她的爱，可能的话，他还会煽动她的自尊心。他还会不遗余力地折磨自己，因为这是魔性深深的自我矛盾之处，从某种意义上，在一个魔鬼身上比一个肤浅微不足道之人身上有多得多的善。艾格尼丝越自私，他欺骗她就越容易（只有没有经验之人才会认为欺骗纯真之人是容易的；生活是深刻的，实际上精明之人觉得精明人之间彼此互相欺骗是最容易的），但是人鱼承受的痛苦也就更可怕。他的欺骗设计得越狡猾，艾格尼丝就越不会羞怯地对他隐瞒自己的痛苦；她会用尽办法，不是为了赶走他，而是为了折磨他，这些办法也不是没有效果。

借助魔性之力，人鱼渴望成为一个作为个体却高于普遍全体的个人。魔鬼拥有和神圣者相同的特点，即个体可以与之建立一种绝对的关系。这就是那类似之处，就是我们所讨论的悖论的对应物。因此，它和悖论有一定的相似性，这相似性容易令人误解。因而，那人鱼显然有事实证明他的沉默是合理的，即正因为沉默，他承受了一切痛苦。当然，毫无疑问，他是可以说出实情的。如果他说出来的话，他就可以成为一个悲剧英雄，在我看来，是一个宏伟堂皇的悲剧英雄。也许只有很少的人可以理解其中的堂皇之处。【14】那样，他就可以有勇气把自己从能够通过诡计使艾格尼丝快乐的自我欺骗中解脱出来；从人性的角度说，他就会有勇气击败艾格尼丝。这里，我要从心理学的角度来作探讨。我们使艾格尼丝越自私，人鱼的自我欺骗就越有效，的确，实际上，人鱼凭借他的魔鬼的精明，从人的角度讲，不仅救了艾格尼丝，还使她显露出最非凡的一面，这也不是不可想象的。因为魔鬼知道如何逼迫即便是最软弱的人，使其显出力量，而他也可能用自己的方式表现出对一个人最善良的意图。

那人鱼处于辩证的一极。如果他从愧悔的魔性一面中解脱出来，那么会有两条可能的道路。他可以控制自己，继续隐藏，但不能依赖他的精明来这样做。那样的话，他不能作为单一的个体与魔鬼建立绝对关系，但可以在悖论的对立面——神灵会拯救艾格尼丝——得到心安。（这就是中世纪会作的推理，根据那时的观念，人鱼显然已致力于献身修道院。）或者，另一条路是，他可以通过艾格尼丝得救。但是这绝不能理解为意味着艾格尼丝的爱将来可能把他从一个诱骗者改变过来（这是美学进行拯救的方式，它总是避开主要问题，即人鱼生活的连续性）；从那方面讲，他已得救。只要他显露自己公开实情，他就会得救。因此他娶了艾格尼丝。但是他必须依然求助于那个悖论。因为，当个体出于内疚感脱离普遍性，他只有凭借变成与绝对者建立绝对关系的个体来回归普遍性。在此，我要插入一个评论，这评论比我们之前任何地方所论述的都要更进一步。【15】罪不是第一直接性，它是后来的直接性。在罪的范畴，个人已经高于普遍性（根据魔鬼的悖论这一方面而言），因为普遍性想要强迫一个缺乏必要条件的人去表现普遍性其实是它本身的自我矛盾。要是哲学，像其他的自负狂妄的学科那样，以为有人可能真的想在实践中遵循它的准则戒律，就会出现一个古怪的滑稽剧。忽视罪的伦理学是个完全无用的学科，但是它一旦要肯定罪为当然的基本条件，它又因此而超越了自身的范畴。哲学告诉我们说，直接性的东西应该被中止。这确实是对的，但它不正确的地方是，罪，理所当然的就是直接性的东西，就像信仰理所当然就是直接性的东西一样。

只要我在这个范围内讨论，一切就都很顺畅，但实际上此处所说的一切也绝解释不了亚伯拉罕。他没有通过罪变成单一的个体；相反，他是上帝所拣选的正义的人。所以，任何对亚伯拉罕所做的类比只有在那个体能够实现普遍性之后才能出现，而接着悖论又重复出现了。

因此，我可以理解人鱼的行为，却不能理解亚伯拉罕。因为人鱼求助于悖论是为了实现普遍性。如果他继续隐藏，努力承受悔悟的种种痛苦，他就会变成魔鬼，而且会正因如此而归于虚无。如果他继续隐藏，但却并不怀有通过自己受悔恨之枷锁的奴役的折磨，来解救艾格尼丝这样狡猾的想法，那么，他会得到安宁平和，但却失去了世界。如果他公开自己，让自己通过艾格尼丝得救，那么他就是我所能想象得到的最伟大的人。只有美学才会不负责任地认为它可以通过让一个迷失的人得到一个纯真姑娘的爱并由此得救，来歌颂爱情的力量。只有美学才会看错并认为那姑娘是英雄人物，而人鱼不是英雄。所以人鱼不能属于艾格尼丝，除非他在做了无限运动，即悔悟运动之后，又靠荒诞之力做了更进一步的运动。他自身的力量足以做悔悟运动，但为此他用尽了所有的力量，因而他靠自己的力量回归和把握现实是不可能的。如果一个人缺乏足够的激情去做这二者中任何一种运动的话，如果他虚度人生，有些许悔悟，同时又想着剩下的一切都会很简单，那么他就已经永远地放弃了活在理想中的努力，那么他就可以很容易地达到，并帮助别人达到最高境界，即用这样的想法欺骗自己和他人：精神世界就像一种卡片游戏，人人都在其中作弊行骗。因此，我们可以通过反思以下这一点多么奇怪来自娱自乐：即正是在我们这个人人都成就最高事物，达到最高境界的时代，对灵魂不朽的怀疑竟然如此普遍，既然连仅仅，但真正地做了无限运动的人都很难说是个怀疑者。对于激情所作的结论是唯一可靠的，也就是说，是唯一令人信服的。幸运的是，这样的生活比聪明人想要的生活要更仁慈，更忠贞。这种生活不排斥任何人，即便是最卑微的人；它也不欺骗任何人，因为在精神世界里，唯一被欺骗的人是那些欺骗自己的人。如果我允许自己下判断的话，一般人认为，也是我自己认为，进修道院不是最高级最伟大的事。但是我也绝不会因此就认为，如今没有人进修道院这一事实意味着我们都比那些在修道院找到安宁的深刻而又诚挚的人要更伟大。现如今有多少人有激情去思考这一点并诚实地评判自己呢？仅仅想到花时间在良心上，让良心昼夜不停警惕地找出每一个秘密想法，以至于当一个人没有时时刻刻在靠人身上最高尚最神圣之力来做运动时，他可以痛苦恐惧地发现每个人生活中的阴暗的情感，【16】并靠恐惧本身，如果没有其他方式的话，来引诱出这些阴暗的情感，而与之相反的是，当一个人和其他人生活在一起，他很容易忘记，也很容易避免这一切，又以很多方式得以支撑下去，并有机会重新开始——仅仅这个想法，如果带着适当的尊重去领会，我认为这想法本身就可以磨炼我们这个自以为已获得最高成就的时代里的很多人。然而，在我们这个自认为已达到顶峰的时代，尽管实际上没有哪个时代像我们这个时代有这么多的滑稽可笑的人，人们并不担忧这些事情。的确，很难理解为什么我们这个时代还没有孕育出，没有自发地孕育出，自己的英雄，很难理解魔鬼肆无忌惮地上演着那可怕的戏剧，这戏剧使整代人发笑而他们却不知道他们在笑自己。的确，当人们在二十岁时就已达到最高点，取得最高成就，这样的存在除了可笑之外，还有什么价值呢？而自从人们不再进修道院以后，这个时代又想出什么更崇高的运动呢？坐在首座，却又胆怯地使人们认为他们已取得最高成就，甚至阴险地劝他们不要尝试任何次等的事情，难道这不是一种可鄙的世俗，可怜的谨慎与懦弱吗？一个已经在修道院做了修行运动的人只有一种运动没有做，那就是荒诞的运动。如今我们这个时代有多少人理解荒诞是什么呢？有多少人是以放弃一切或得到一切的方式生活着呢？又有多少人诚实到足以知道自己是什么，能做什么和不能做什么呢？如果有这样的人，他们最常存在于文化修养不怎么高的人群中和妇女中，难道不是这样吗？正如着魔的人总是自我显露却不理解自己一样，我们这个时代以一种透视的方式暴露出自己的缺陷，因为它总是在要求滑稽之事。如果这真是我们这个时代所需要的，也许剧院可能需要一种新的戏剧，在这种剧中，某人为爱而死被当作喜剧来处理。或者，如果那真的要发生，如果这个时代真的目睹了这样的事，如此，它可能借助发笑获得信仰精神力量的勇气，获得停止蹩脚地扼杀自己好的冲动，停止嫉妒地扼杀别人好的冲动的勇气，难道这对我们这个时代不是更好吗？这个时代真的需要一个热心者的可笑表演来作笑料吗？或者它真正需要的难道不是这样一个热诚人物来提醒它记起已忘记的东西吗？

如果因为悔悟的情感没有被唤醒，我们需要一个主题类似但更感人的故事，我们可以为此使用《托比特传》中的一个故事。年轻的托比亚斯想要娶拉贵尔和艾德娜的女儿撒拉。但是这个姑娘被一种悲剧的宿命所笼罩。她已被许给七个丈夫，他们全都死于新婚之房。从我个人的剧本视角而言，这是该故事的一个瑕疵。因为一个姑娘七次徒劳地想嫁出去，尽管她每次差点就成功了，就像一个七次期末考试都失败但差点就及格的学生一样，想到这一点就会觉得这故事有某种难以抗拒的滑稽之处。当然，《托比特传》的重点在别处，而这使七那个大数字很重要，而且在某种意义上甚至有助于达到悲剧效果。它使年轻的托比亚斯显得更加高尚，部分原因是他是他父母的独生子（6.14），另一部分原因是阻碍物是如此的惊人。所以必须省略这个特点。而撒拉，则是一个从未恋爱过的女孩，她依然怀有一个年轻姑娘对幸福的念想，拥有巨大的以生活作抵押的冒险精神，拥有追求幸福的权力，即全心全意地爱一个男人。然而她却是最不幸福的人，因为她知道那爱着她的邪恶的魔鬼总会在新婚之夜杀死新郎。我已读到过很多悲伤的故事，但我怀疑还能否找到我们在这个姑娘生命中所发现的如此深重的悲伤。不过，当不幸来自于外部事物时，人终究是可以找到一定的安慰的。如果生活没能带给一个人使他幸福的事物，想到他本可以得到它依然是一种慰藉。但是时间也驱散不了、治愈不了的深不可测的悲伤，是意识到即便在一生中做了一切也无济于事。一个希腊作家在说到“……因为可以肯定，还没有人完全逃过爱情，也没有人可以逃过爱情，只要有美存在，只要有发现美的眼睛”［Pantos gar oudeis Erota epfugen i feuksetai mechri an kallos i kal ofthalmoi Bleposin［参看朗格的《田园诗集》（cf. Longi Pastoralia）］这些话时，以他的单纯幼稚隐藏掩盖了无比多的东西。有很多女孩在爱情中变得不幸福，但她们是从幸福变得不幸福的；撒拉则是在变得不幸福之前就已经是处于不幸福状态了。一个人找不到可以献身的人就够痛苦了，而找到这样的人又不能献身则是难以言状的痛苦。一个女孩将自己交付给某人后，人们说她就不再是自由的了，但撒拉从未自由过却也从未将自己交给任何人。一个女孩将自己交给爱人却被爱人欺骗了是够悲惨的了，但撒拉在交出自己之前就已受骗。当托比亚斯终于要娶撒拉时，后面会隐含着多少悲伤之事啊！会有多么令人激动的婚礼仪式，多么多的准备啊！没有哪个姑娘受过撒拉那样的欺骗。因为她被骗去了那最圣洁的东西，那即便是最贫穷的姑娘也拥有的绝对财富，她被骗去了那种无忧的、无穷的、恣意的、无拘无束的、自我奉献的爱情。所以，首先得有一个净化涤罪的过程，即把鱼的心脏和肝脏放在炽热的余烬上烘烤的过程。想想这母亲如何与女儿告别啊，这女儿自己被骗走了一切，接下来也要骗走自己母亲的最美丽的财产。我们就读读那故事吧。艾德娜准备好了新房，把撒拉叫进来，然后悲伤地哭了，女儿也流泪了，她对女儿说：“我的孩子，不要灰心。主宰天地的主会用欢乐换去你的悲苦。女儿，不要灰心，要振作起来。”现在，婚礼时刻到了。如果我们能够忍受接下来故事里的悲伤，就让我们继续读下去。“但是当门被关上，他们单独在一起时，托比亚斯从床上站起来，他说：‘妹妹，起来，让我们祈祷主怜悯我们。’”（8.4）

如果一个诗人读了这个故事要写它，我敢打赌他百分之九十九会把重点放在年轻的托比亚斯身上。这种在如此明显的危险中还甘愿冒生命危险所体现出的英雄主义——那个故事在另一处又提醒我们那明显的危险，因为在婚礼的第二天早上，拉贵尔对艾德娜说：“派个女仆去看看他是否还活着，如果他死了，我们好埋了他，这样别人也不会知道。”（参看8.13）——这种英雄主义一定会是那个诗人要强调的主题。但是，我要冒昧地提出另一个主题。的确，托比拉斯表现得很勇敢，很坚决，也很有骑士风范，但是任何没有勇气做那件事的男人都是懦夫，他既不知道爱是什么，也不知道怎样做男子汉，更不知道什么是值得为之活着的。这样的人甚至还没有领会给予比接受更好这个小秘密，更是一点也不懂那个大秘密，即接受要远比给予困难，也就是说，如果一个人有勇气在没有某必需品的情况下也可以将就继续生活，那么在需要帮助的时刻也不会是懦夫。不，撒拉才是英雄！我渴望走近她，就像我从未走近过任何别的姑娘一样，或者说，就像我很想从思想上走近我所读到过的任何人一样。因为，想想当一个人没有任何过错却从一开始就残疾了，从一出生就是人类失败的样品时，他得要有对上帝怎样的爱才会想要被治愈啊！允许爱人如此的冒险行为却还要自己承担责任，这样的人在伦理上得要有怎样的成熟啊！得要有怎样的谦恭才能面对又一个为自己这样冒险的爱人啊！得要有对上帝怎样的信仰才能在随后的时刻不怨恨被自己所亏欠了一切的丈夫啊！

让撒拉做个男人，那样魔性的一面就容易出来。骄傲高尚的本性可以忍受一切，就是忍受不了一样东西，它忍受不了同情。因为同情暗示着一种侮辱，他只能忍受由一种更高的力量所施加的同情，他自己绝不能成为同情的对象。如果他有罪，他可以忍受惩罚而不感到绝望，但是他不能忍受的是，从娘胎里一生出来就被选作同情的对象，被当作同情喜欢闻的芳香。同情有个奇怪的辩证法：这一刻它要求内疚，下一刻它又想要赶走内疚。所以说，一个人的不幸越是精神方面的，那么命中注定被同情就越可怕。但是撒拉没有内疚，她是被扔给所有不幸的猎物，除此之外，还要承受同情的折磨，因为即便是我，这个对她的钦佩多于托比亚斯对她的爱的人，即便是我在提到她的名字时也总是要说“可怜的姑娘！”让一个男人取代撒拉的位置吧，让他知道，如果他要爱一个女孩，地狱的幽灵就会在新婚之夜到来并杀掉她，那么他很可能会选择魔性的一面，他会自我封闭起来，用一种魔鬼的方式在心里说：“谢谢，我可不喜欢仪式和大惊小怪的忙乱，我也不是绝对需要爱的欢愉，我不妨做个喜欢看姑娘在新婚之夜死去的蓝胡子鬼怪。”人们一般很少听到人性中的魔性一面，尽管这个领域，尤其是在我们这个时代，是一个很需要探索的领域，尽管一个观察者，一旦他和魔鬼建立一定的和谐关系，就可以，至少在某些方面，用几乎任何人作为例子。对于这方面的探索，莎士比亚是个而且会永远是个英雄。那个可怕的魔鬼，莎士比亚所塑造的最具魔性的人物，而且是塑造得无与伦比的成功的人物，格罗斯特（后来又叫理查德三世），是什么东西使他成为魔鬼的？显而易见，是他不能忍受从小就堆积在他身上的同情这个事实使他成了魔鬼。他在《理查德三世》第一幕中的独白比所有道德体系都有价值，因为没有哪个道德体系暗示了存在的种种恐怖及这些恐怖的性质。

我，是上天随意制造的劣质品，

没有可以在漂亮的女子面前昂首阔步的外表，

我，被骗走了好看的身体和面容，甚至没有正常的比例，

我是畸形的，未发育好的，早产的，

我一瘸一拐如此难看，

以至于在我停下不走时，旁边的狗都对我吠叫……

像格罗斯特这样性格的人是不能靠使他们与社会观念相和谐来拯救的。伦理学实际上只会嘲笑他们，这正如，如果伦理学对撒拉说：“为什么你不表现出普遍性，像大家一样去结婚？”这是它在取笑她一样。这种本性的人从最初就处于悖论中，而且他们绝非不如他人完美；只是他们要么会在这魔性的悖论中受尽诅咒，要么会在神性的悖论中得到救赎。而从很久远的时候人们就喜欢认为，女巫、侏儒、妖怪等等都是畸形的，而且不可否认，当我们看到一个丑陋畸形的人时，会倾向于把他的外表和道德败坏联系起来。但这是多么巨大的不公正啊！因为情况实际上应该正相反。是生活本身毁坏了他们，这就像继母使继子女堕落一样。从一开始就被置于普遍性之外，不管是先天的还是历史条件使然，这就是人的魔性的起源，而个体本身在这方面是无可责备的。所以，那个坎伯兰郡的犹太人，尽管他做善事，也是个身负魔性的人。因而，人性中的魔性一面也可以以对人的蔑视这种形式表现出来，请注意，这种蔑视，并不使一个人表现得很蔑视人；相反，他的长处在于他知道自己比所有评判自己的人要好。——在所有这类事情上，诗人们应该是第一个作出反应，发出警报的人。只有上帝知道现在年轻一代的拙劣诗人在读些什么！毫无疑问他们的研究是局限于死记硬背那些韵文。只有老天知道他们存在的价值是什么！此刻我真不知道他们除了有教化意味地给我们提供关于灵魂不朽的证据以外，还有什么用处，以至于我们可以像巴格森说我们城里的诗人科德维一样安全地对他们作同样的评论：“如果他都可以永垂不朽的话，那么我们就都可以不朽。”——以上所述的关于撒拉的一切，几乎是带着创造诗歌的风格而写的，因此实际上对人们只是有想象方面的吸引力，但是如果一个人出于对心理学的兴趣来探索以下这句古语的意思，就会明白上述关于撒拉的描述的全部意义：“没有一点疯狂，就没有伟大的天才。【17】”因为这儿的癫痴就是天才在生活中所要承受的痛苦，是神灵嫉妒的表现，如果我可以这么说的话，而天才的天赋则是神灵宠爱的表现。因而，天才从一开始就是找不到普遍性的方向的，从一开始就被置于悖论中，不论是他在对自己局限性的绝望中——在他看来，这局限性使他从全能变成无能——试图寻求一种魔性带来的自信，因此不会在上帝或人们面前承认这种局限性，还是通过对神灵的爱从宗教方面给自己以自信，他都处于这悖论中。在这里，有些心理学话题，在我看来，似乎可以供人开心地研究一辈子，然而我们却很少听到关于它们的讨论。比如说，疯狂和天才有什么关系？我们能从这二者中的一个构建出另一个吗？在何种意义和到何种程度上，天才能够控制自己的疯狂呢？因为不用说，在一定程度上他的确是自己疯狂状态的主人，否则的话他就真的是个疯子。但是，要作这样的评论需要有高度的独创性和爱心，因为要对优秀人物作评论是很困难的。如果一个人在对这种困难给予适当注意的情况下，去浏览某个极富盛名的天才作家的作品，可以想象得到，尽管需要很多努力，他可能会偶尔发现些什么。

关于个体想要通过隐藏和沉默来保全普遍性这一点，我想再探讨一个例子。为此，我将利用《浮士德》的传说来作研究。浮士德是一个怀疑者，【18】一个走向死亡的精神方面的变节者。这就是诗人们如何看待这个传说的，而且，尽管每个时代都有自己的浮士德这一点被一再重复，诗人们依然一个接一个固执地沿着相同的老路走下去。让我们做一点小改变吧。浮士德是一个杰出的怀疑者；但是他有同情的本性。即便在歌德对浮士德的诠释中，我也找不到对怀疑与自己进行秘密对话的心理学角度的更深的见解。在我们这个时代，当每个人都确实经历过怀疑时，却还没有哪个诗人往此方向迈出一步。所以我想我愿意给他们提供皇家证券，让他们在上面写下他们在此方面的“所有”经历——因为他们所写的不可能超过左页边的空白那么点地方。

只有当人们这样把浮士德转向他自身时，那时怀疑才能显得有诗意，也只有那时他自己才真正地发现怀疑的所有痛苦。那么，他就知道了是精神在支撑着生活，但他也知道了人们生活中的安全感和快乐并不是由精神的力量所支持的，而是可以很容易地被解释为不思考的幸福。作为一个怀疑者，他是超越这一切的，如果有人想骗他，使他认为自己已经过了怀疑这一课程，已经超越了怀疑，他会很容易看穿这欺骗。一个已经在精神世界做修行运动的人，因而也是做了无限运动修行的人，他可以从言辞立即判断出说话者是一个经历丰富的人还是个擅长讲故事的闵希豪生。帖木尔能够用他的匈奴人所做的事，浮士德可以用他的怀疑做到——吓得人们惊慌失措，使他们脚下的世界摇晃颤抖，惊得人们四散逃跑，引得四面八方都传来惊恐的尖叫。如果他那样做了，他依然不是帖木尔，因为有思想的授权，他在某种意义上有权这样做。但是浮士德有同情的本性，他热爱生活，他的灵魂不懂得妒忌，他看到自己无法控制那无疑已引发的山崩似的愤怒，他并不渴望赫洛斯特拉托斯【19】式的荣誉——他保持沉默，他比那隐藏腹中有罪的爱情之果的姑娘更小心翼翼地把怀疑在灵魂中隐藏着，他竭尽全力与别的人步伐一致，但是他内心里所发生的事则自己在内心把它毁灭掉，这样，他就把自己变成了普遍性的牺牲品。

有时，当有些古怪反常之人掀起怀疑的旋风，我们会听到这样的抱怨：“要是他保持沉默多好。”浮士德也代表了这一想法。任何了解靠精神生活意味着什么的人也明白对怀疑的饥饿意味着什么，明白怀疑者对精神食粮的饥饿就像对每天要吃的面包的渴望一样强烈。尽管浮士德所承受的所有痛苦都可能很好地证明了他并不受骄傲的控制，但我仍然要采用一个我很容易想出的预防策略。正如里米尼的格里高利因为支持对婴儿的诅咒而被叫作婴儿折磨者一样，我也很想叫我自己为英雄折磨者，因为当涉及到折磨英雄时，我是很有发明创造性的。浮士德看见玛格丽特——不是在他已选择了人生的欢愉之后，因为我的浮士德绝不选择欢愉——他不是在靡菲斯特那个魔鬼的凹面镜中见到玛格丽特，而是在她最纯真可爱最冰清玉洁的时候，因为他的心中保持着对人类的爱，所以他可以很轻易地就爱上了她。但是他是个怀疑者，他的怀疑已经毁了他的现实。因为我的浮士德是如此理想化的一个人，他不是那种科学的怀疑者；这些科学的怀疑者每学期在讲台上进行一个小时的怀疑，但是在其他时间可以做任何别的事情，而当他们的确在怀疑时，也没有靠精神的帮助或靠精神的力量。他是一个怀疑者，而怀疑者对精神营养的渴望和对每天的面包的渴望是一样的。但是他仍然忠于自己的决定，保持沉默，他不对任何人说起自己的怀疑，甚至也没有对玛格丽特说起他对她的爱。

不用说，浮士德是一个太过于理想化的人，以致于不能满足于下述的这种闲聊，即，如果他发言的时候，仅仅引起了一场普通的讨论，或者整件事毫无结果，不了了之，等等诸如此类的闲聊。（这里，显而易见，任何诗人都会看出，我们的剧情里潜藏着滑稽成分，这滑稽成分就是把浮士德与我们这个时代的那些追求怀疑的低俗小丑相提并论所体现的讽刺性。那些低俗小丑往往追求怀疑，却用的是表面论据。比如，一个医生的学历证书这样一个事物，为了证明他们真的怀疑了，或者为了发誓他们已怀疑了一切，或者为了通过他们在路上碰见了一个怀疑者这个事实来证明它——这些精神世界的快递员和短跑能手匆忙地从这个人这儿得来一点关于怀疑的暗示，又从那个人那儿搜集到一些关于信仰的线索，然后就根据会众想要细沙还是爱好粗沙去尽力发挥利用那些信息。）浮士德太理想化了，而不能穿着拖鞋四处走动。任何缺乏无限激情的人，都不是追求理想主义的人，而任何真正怀有无限激情的人早已将灵魂脱离了这样的垃圾废话。他保持沉默以牺牲自己——否则他就开口谈论，同时很清楚自己的谈论会将一切都变成困惑。

他保持沉默，因此伦理学谴责他。它说：“你必须承认普遍性，而且你必须把你承认普遍性这一点说出来，你不准同情普遍性。”当我们有时严厉地评判一个怀疑者的言辞时，不应该忘了这一点。我自己并不倾向于宽和地评判这种行为，但像所有情况一样，这儿一切取决于那些运动是否正常进行。如果事情出了差错，那么怀疑者，尽管因说出怀疑而给世界带来各种不幸，依然比这些可怜的喜好甜食之士要好得多，这些人每样都尝试，但每样都浅尝辄止，他们还没有弄懂怀疑就已打消怀疑，因此他们通常是无法驾驭无法管理的怀疑之所以爆发的直接原因。——如果怀疑者一旦说话，他就使人对一切迷惑，把一切抛入混乱状态，因为如果这并没有发生，他也只是事后才发现，而后果在一个人行动时或在其责任问题上并没有什么用。

如果他在自担风险的情况下保持沉默，他可能真的会高尚地行事，但是，他同时又给他的其他痛苦增加了一些诱惑考验。普遍性会永远在折磨他，永远在对他说：“你本应该说出来的，你怎么能确定终究不是某种隐秘的骄傲促使你作出保持沉默的决定？”

但是，如果怀疑者可以作为特别的单一个体与绝对者处于绝对关系中，那么，他就获得了保持沉默的授权。但是那样的话，他就必须把怀疑转变成内疚。因此他就处于悖论中。但是那样，他就治愈了怀疑，尽管他可能又会有另一个怀疑。

就连《新约全书》也赞同这样的沉默。该书中有些篇章甚至赞美讽刺，只要讽刺是被用于隐藏好的一面。然而，这只是一种讽刺活动，它和其他一些活动一样，都是以主观性高于现实为基础的。如今没有人想知道这一点；关于讽刺，人们一般只想知道黑格尔所说的，尽管奇怪的是，黑格尔对此所知甚少，甚至还带有一点怨恨地反对它，但这一点，我们这个时代有理由不放弃，因为它最好要警惕讽刺。在登山宝训里有这样的话：“当你禁食的时候，要往头上涂油梳头，要洗脸，不要让人看出来你在禁食。”这段话清楚地表明了这样的真理，即，主观性与现实是不可通约不可比较的，甚至表明了主观性有欺骗的权利。如今那些四处游荡含糊不清地谈论教会思想的人，只要读一读《新约全书》，就可能会产生别的思想。

但是，现在让我们再回到亚伯拉罕身上讨论——他是如何做的？因为我还没有忘记，读者也许也乐意记起，这就是我前面所有讨论的意图所在。不是为了借此使亚伯拉罕更令人容易理解，而是为了使他的令人费解显得更全面。因为，正如我前面所说的，我无法理解亚伯拉罕，我只能崇拜他。我也提到过，我所描述的所有阶段没有一个含有对亚伯拉罕的类比，我之所以详细论述它们，只是为了从它们自己领域的角度表明，它们与亚伯拉罕情况的差异之处就如同未知陆地的界限。它们和亚伯拉罕的情况之间如果有类比的话，那一定是在关于罪的悖论中，但这又属于另一个领域，因而不能解释亚伯拉罕，而且，解释它本身比解释亚伯拉罕要容易得多。

因此，亚伯拉罕没有说出隐情，他既没有对撒拉和以利亚撒说，也没有对以撒说，他越过了这三个伦理权威，因为，对亚伯拉罕而言，对伦理的表达并不高于对家庭生活的表达。

然而，在一个人知道自己靠保持沉默可以救助另一个人的情况下，美学是允许，实际上是要求这个人保持沉默的，这就已足以证明亚伯拉罕不处于美学的范围内。他的沉默绝不是表示他有救以撒的意图，从总体而言，他为了自己和上帝而牺牲以撒的整项任务就是对美学的冒犯，因为美学可以轻易理解我牺牲自己，但理解不了我为了自己而牺牲另一个人。美学意义上的英雄是沉默的英雄。然而，伦理学则谴责他，因为他是靠偶然的个性来保持沉默的。是他作为人的预知先见使他决定自己应该保持沉默。这却是伦理学所不能原谅的。因为人的所有这样的知识都只是一种幻觉。而伦理学要求一种无限运动，即要求显露自我，要求公开。所以，美学意义上的英雄可以说出隐情但不会这样做。

真正的悲剧英雄为了普遍性牺牲自己和自己的一切，他的行为和所有情感都属于普遍性，他是显露的，公开的，在这种自我开示中他是伦理学的宠儿。而这并不符合亚伯拉罕的情况：他不为普遍性做任何事，而且他是隐蔽自我的。

现在，我们该说说这悖论了。要么个人作为个体能与绝对者处于绝对关系中（那样的话，伦理的东西就不是至高无上的），要么亚伯拉罕就输了——他既不是一个悲剧英雄，也不是个美学英雄。

这里，悖论可能看起来是一切中最容易最方便的事了。但是，我必须重申，任何对此深信不疑的人都不是信仰骑士，因为不幸和痛苦是唯一可以想象得到的合理理由，而且不能从一般意义上去想象它们，因为如果那样的话，悖论就不存在了 。

亚伯拉罕保持沉默，但是他不能说出来，这沉默中存在着不幸与痛苦。因为如果我开口说了，却不能使自己被理解，那么即便我日夜不停地说，也等于我没说。这就是亚伯拉罕的处境。他可以说他想说的任何事情，但是有一件事他不能说，而既然他不能说，也就是说，不能以一种别人能理解的方式来说，那么他就不说。讲话带给人的慰籍就是它可以把我转变成合乎普遍性的人。现在亚伯拉罕可以说任何语言所能表达的关于他如何爱以撒的话。但是这不是他脑子里所想的事，他所想的是更深刻的事，即他要献祭以撒，因为那是个考验。没有人可以理解后者，因此每个人只能误解前者。这种悲痛是悲剧英雄根本不知道的。因为首先，悲剧英雄有这样的慰籍：一切反对观点都得到了适当的考虑，他也给了每个人反驳他的机会，这些包括克吕泰墨斯特拉、依菲琴尼亚、阿基里斯、合唱团、每个活着的生命，每种发自内心的声音，每种聪明的、惊慌的、控诉的、同情的人的想法。他可以确定每种可以说出来反对他的话都已经被说出来了，都已被严厉无情地说出来了——相比之下，与整个世界抗争是一种舒服的事，与自己作斗争才是可怕的事。他不必担心自己忽视了什么，以致事后会像爱德华四世在得知克拉伦斯的死讯时那样惊呼：

谁向我替他求情？谁在我盛怒之时，

跪在我脚下，请我听从建议？

谁说到了兄弟之情？谁说到了爱？

悲剧英雄不知道孤独的可怕责任。其次，他还有可以与克吕泰墨斯特拉、依菲琴尼亚一同哭泣和哀悼的慰籍——眼泪和哭泣有平息缓和的作用，但是，无可言说的叹息才是折磨。阿伽门农可以快速地集中精神，确定自己要行动，而且他有时间去安慰和宽慰别人。亚伯拉罕却是不能这样做的。当他的心被打动了，当他的话可以对全世界表达宽慰的时候，他却不敢提供宽慰，因为难道撒拉、以利亚撒和以撒不会对他说：“你为什么想要这么做？你毕竟是可以克制自己，不那样做的呀。”如果他在悲痛之中，在他迈出最后一步之前，他想释放情感的重压，拥抱他所珍爱的一切，那么这可能会产生最可怕的后果，即撒拉、以利亚撒和以撒会生他的气，并认为他是个伪君子。他不能说什么，人类的语言无以表达他的思想和情绪。尽管他自己懂得世上所有的语言，尽管他所爱之人也理解这些语言，他依然不能说什么，他说的是一种神圣的语言——他“用不止一个舌头说”。

我非常理解这种痛苦。我钦佩亚伯拉罕。我不担心有人会受这个故事诱惑而不负责任地想要成为那种独一无二的个体。但我也坦率承认，我自己缺乏那样做的勇气，而且，尽管不管在多晚的后来，我要是有可能走那么远，我都乐意放弃更进一步的可能。亚伯拉罕时刻都可以阻止自己，他可以为这作为诱惑的整件事感到后悔。那样，他就可以说了，那样，每个人都会理解他了，但那样他就不再是亚伯拉罕了。

亚伯拉罕不能说。本可以解释一切的话，即它是一场考验——不过，请注意，一场以伦理为诱惑的考验——却是他不能说的话（即无法以一种能使自己被理解的方式来说）。任何身处此境的人都是出自普遍性领域的移民。然而，下一步的事是他更加不能言说的。因为，正如前面已说的很清楚的那样，亚伯拉罕做的是两种运动。他做无限弃绝的运动，并放弃了以撒，因为这是一件私事，所以没有人可以理解。但接着他做的，而且每时每刻都在做的是，信仰运动。这是他的欣慰之处。因为他说：“不过它不会发生，或者如果它发生的话，主会凭借荒诞赐予我一个新的以撒的。”悲剧英雄至少最终知道故事的结尾。依菲琴尼亚听从父亲的决定，她自己做了无限弃绝运动，然后他们达成了一种相互理解。她能理解阿伽门农，因为他所做的事表现普遍性。而如果阿伽门农对她说“尽管神要求把你作为祭品献祭，但凭借荒诞我认为，他也可能并没有索要你”，那么他会立即变得令她无法理解。如果他能靠人的正常推算这样说，那么依菲琴尼亚肯定会理解他。但那就会意味着阿伽门农并没有做无限弃绝运动，那么他就不是一个英雄，而那预言家的话也就不过是一个旅行家的奇闻，整件事情也就变成了一场轻松的歌舞剧。

所以亚伯拉罕没有说什么。他所说的唯一一句话被保留了下来，即他对以撒的唯一回答，这也足以证明他先前没有说什么。以撒问亚伯拉罕供燔祭的羔羊在哪里。“亚伯拉罕说：我的儿子，上帝会为自己提供燔祭的羔羊的。”

这里我要更仔细地思考亚伯拉罕这最后的话。如果没有这句话，整件事就会缺点什么。而如果这句话有所不同，一切就可能陷入混乱。

我经常思考这样一个问题，不管一个悲剧英雄的最终是痛苦还是行动，他是否应该有一句最终的结语呢？在我看来，这取决于他属于哪个生活领域，取决于他的生活有何等程度的思想意义，取决于他的痛苦或行为在多大程度上与精神相关。

不用说，在最后高潮时刻，悲剧英雄，像别人一样，是能够说一些话的，甚至是一些恰当的话。但问题是，他说这些话这个行为是否适宜。如果他生活的意义在于一种外在的行为，那么，他没有什么可说的，因为他所说的一切都只是闲谈，它只能削弱他所产生的影响力，而相反，悲剧的仪式则要求他不管是在行动方面，还是在痛苦方面，都要在沉默中完成他的任务。为了不扯远离题，我干脆用我们最直接最贴切的例子。如果阿伽门农他自己，而不是卡尔克斯那个随军预言家，不得不对依菲琴尼亚拔刀相向，他若在最后时刻想说出一些话，只会降低自己的人格，贬损自己的形象。每个人都知道他的行为的意义，虔诚、同情、情感，以及流泪等整个过程也完成了，而且，他的生活与精神无关，即，他既非精神导师，也不是精神见证者。然而，如果悲剧英雄生活的意义在于精神方面，那么最终话语的缺乏则会削弱他的影响力。他最后应该说的不是某种适宜的话，不是一点雄辩的华丽言辞，而是某种能够传达这样的信息的话：在关键时刻，他圆满完成了自己。这种知性的悲剧英雄应该允许自己有可笑的人们经常追求的东西，即应当有最后的话并且保留下来。我们期待他有任何其他悲剧英雄所有的同样的高贵举止，但此外，我们还期待某句话。所以，如果一位知性的悲剧英雄在痛苦（死亡）中完成了他的英雄主义，那么靠他所说的最后话语将使他在死亡之前就已经永垂不朽，而普通悲剧英雄则只有在死后才永垂不朽。

我们可以用苏格拉底来作一个例子。他就是一位智慧的知性的悲剧英雄。他听说了自己的死刑。听到的那一刻他死了。如果你不能领会死亡需要所有的精神力量来完成，不能理解英雄总是在死亡之前就已死去，你在对人生的认识方面就不会走得很深远。因此，作为英雄，苏格拉底被要求保持镇定自若，但是作为有知识的英雄，他则被要求在最后时刻有足够的精神力量去圆满地实现自我。所以，他不能像普通悲剧英雄那样，在最后时刻专注于使自己直面死亡；他必须非常迅速地做此运动，以至于在同一时刻，他已经有意识地超越了这种斗争，转而去继续展示自我。要是苏格拉底在死亡的危机时刻沉默不语，他就会削弱自己人生的影响，而且使人疑心讽刺的弹力在他身上并不是一种原本自然的宇宙性的力量，而只是一种游戏，该游戏的弹性是他在关键时刻要根据相反标准来利用的，以使他悲惨寒酸地支撑下去。【20】

如果有人认为可以通过类比为亚伯拉罕找到适宜的话来在最后时刻说，那么其实我在前面所简短讨论的并不适用于亚伯拉罕；但如果有人认为，鉴于亚伯拉罕作为信仰之父在精神方面有着绝对的意义，他有必要在最后时刻通过说点什么，而不是通过对以撒拔刀，来展示自我的信仰，那么，我上述的讨论还是适用的。至于他说什么，我是无法预先有什么概念的。但他说了之后，我肯定会理解它，不过只是在某种意义上从他的话理解他，我并不能借此比先前更接近他。如果我们没有从苏格拉底那儿得到最后之言，我可能可以设身处地为他编一句，而要是我自己做不到这一点，诗人也会做到的。但是没有哪个诗人可以跟上亚伯拉罕，解读亚伯拉罕。

在我继续仔细思考亚伯拉罕的最后之语之前，我必须请大家注意到亚伯拉罕说这最后之语的困难。如前所述，这悖论里的不幸与痛苦就在于这沉默——亚伯拉罕不能说什么。【21】鉴于这一点，要求他说话就是一种自我矛盾，除非我们想让他又脱离那个悖论，即在最后时刻，他中止悖论，因此他也不再是亚伯拉罕，而且会前功尽弃。要是亚伯拉罕在关键时刻对以撒说“是你将被献祭”，这就只会是个弱点。因为如果他可以说的话，他早就应该说了，这种情况的缺点在于他缺乏将整个过程的痛苦都想全想透的精神上的成熟度和专注力，而且他将其中的某些痛苦搁置一边，以致他实际上经历的痛苦超过了他想到的痛苦。而且，他这样的言辞会使他脱离悖论，如果他真想对以撒说的话，他必须得把自己的处境转变成精神诱惑那种处境。否则，他终究是什么也不能说，而如果他那样做的话，他就会连悲剧英雄也不是了。

然而，不管怎样，亚伯拉罕最后的话被保留了下来，只要我能理解那悖论，我就也可以理解亚伯拉罕的整个存在在那句话里的体现。首先，他什么也没有说，他就是以这种方式来说自己不得不说的话。他对以撒的回答具有讽刺的形式，因为说了某些话而又什么也没说，总是一种具有讽刺性的事。以撒问亚伯拉罕是因为他推测亚伯拉罕知道。所以如果亚伯拉罕回答说“我什么也不知道”，他说的就不是真话。他不能说什么，因为他所知道的他不能说。所以他回答说：“我的儿子，上帝自己会准备羔羊作烧祭品。”这里，我们看到了前面所描述的亚伯拉罕灵魂中所进行的双重运动。要是亚伯拉罕仅仅是放弃了以撒，不再做什么，他就会在这最后的话中不说真话。因为他知道是上帝要求献祭以撒，而且他知道就在此刻自己准备好了献祭他。所以我们可以看出，亚伯拉罕在做了这一运动之后，就已时刻不停地进行下一运动了，即依靠荒诞做信仰运动。因此他没有讲假话，因为凭借荒诞，上帝毕竟还是有可能做出相当不同的事来的。尽管他没有说假话，但他也没说什么，因为他说的是外国话。当我们考虑到是亚伯拉罕自己将献祭以撒，这一点就更加显而易见。要是任务有所不同，要是主命令亚伯拉罕将以撒带到摩利亚山，以便用自己的闪电击中以撒，用那种方式收他作祭品，那么，就亚伯拉罕所说的话的直接意义上来说，他那样神秘莫测地说话就可能是对的，因为，在那种情况下，他自己也不会知道会发生什么事情。但是，因为那任务是派给亚伯拉罕的，是他自己必须行动，所以他必须知道在关键时刻他将做什么，因而也必须知道以撒将要被献祭。如果他并不是清楚确定地知道这一切，他就没有做那无限弃绝运动，这样的话，他说的话就的确不是假的。但同时他也就远非真正的亚伯拉罕，他都不如悲剧英雄伟大，实际上，他就成了一个不能对任何事作决定的优柔寡断的人，因此也就会永远说话跟打谜语一样令人费解。但这样的踌躇犹豫者纯粹是对信仰骑士的拙劣模仿，犹如东施效颦一般。

显然，人们又似乎理解了亚伯拉罕，但只能以理解那个悖论的方式理解他。至于我个人，我在某种程度上可以理解亚伯拉罕，但同时我也清楚地意识到我缺乏说的勇气，同样也缺乏像他那样行动的勇气。但我绝不是据此说他所做的是微不足道的，因为正相反，他所做的是绝无仅有的奇迹。

那么，悲剧英雄的同时代人怎么看悲剧英雄？他们认为他是伟大的，他们钦佩他，景仰他。而那可敬的高尚者的集合体，即每代人指派的对上一代人作评判的陪审团，也都达成了相同的裁决。但是没有人可以理解亚伯拉罕。可是想想他的成就！他坚持忠实于他之所爱。但是热爱上帝的人不需要眼泪，也不需要景仰，他在爱中忘记了苦难，而且忘记得非常彻底，以至于事后倘若上帝自己没有记起它，他的痛苦就没有一点儿痕迹了。而上帝是秘密看着的，他知道亚伯拉罕所受的苦痛，数着他流过的泪滴，而且什么也不会忘记。

所以说，要么存在着这样一个悖论，即作为独特个体的个人与绝对者处于一种绝对关系中，要么亚伯拉罕丧失了（他的伟大）。

注释

【1】　过去人们说：“可惜的是，世上事并不像传教士所布道宣讲的那样。”但是有一天我们能够说：“世间事不像传教士所讲的那样是多么幸运啊，因为生活中至少有些意义，而说教布道里则毫无意义。”我们说这样的话的那一刻可能会到来，尤其是在哲学的帮助下。

【2】　即献祭以撒之事。——译者注

【3】　当然，任何其他的个人倾注了全部身心想要实现却不能实现的兴趣点都可以引起无限弃绝运动。但我选择了恋爱故事来作例子，是因为这样的兴趣无疑很容易理解，因而我就不必说些很少有人会切实感兴趣的介绍性的话了。

【4】　这要求激情。一切具有无限性的运动都是靠激情发生的。反思不能产生运动。是生活中持续不断的跳跃解释了什么是运动，而中间调停不过是一种虚拟的幻想，它是黑格尔认为可以解释一切的东西，同时又是黑格尔唯一从不曾解释的东西。甚至要明白人们所熟知的苏格拉底做的理解和不理解之间的划分也需要激情；自然，要做真正的苏格拉底似的运动，即无知的运动，则更需要激情。我们今天所缺乏的正是激情，而不是反思。因此，从某种意义上讲，我们这个时代的人太固执于生命而不愿死去，因为去死是最非凡的跳跃之一。有一段诗文总是很吸引我，作者在用五六句诗表达了自己对生活中所有简单而美好的事物的愿望后，以这样一句作了结尾：跳入永恒是一种幸福。

【5】　即，做了此类解释还指望别人钦佩的人也不算是最糟糕的自以为是者。——译者注

【6】　莱辛曾在某文章中从纯美学的视角说过类似的话。在该文章中，他实际上想表明悲伤也能通过智慧的话语来表达。为此，莱辛引用了不幸的英国国王爱德华二世在某个特别场合所说的话。作为对比，他还引用了狄德罗写的一个农妇的故事和该农妇所说的话。他接着写道：“那也是机智，而且还是农妇的机智，当然，那是情势所迫产生的。因此人们不应该从说话者是优秀的人，是受过良好教育的、智商高的和风趣的这样的事实中为那痛苦和悲伤的机智的表达找借口，因为激情使人人再次平等……对此我们可以找到的解释是，在同样的情况下，很可能人人都会说出同样的话来。那个农妇的思想很可能是王后在那情境下也会说的，正如那国王在那个场合所说的话，一个农民当时也能并且无疑也会说出来。”

【7】　这儿我要再次解释悲剧英雄和信仰骑士所遇到的冲突的区别。悲剧英雄可以凭借他把伦理义务转变成一个愿望这一事实来确信自己身上还完全存有（对儿子，女儿等等的）伦理义务。因而阿伽门农可以说：这就是我没有违反我作为父亲的义务的证据，也就是，我（对依菲琴尼亚）的义务是我唯一的愿望。那么，这里，我们看到愿望和义务彼此相一致。如果我的愿望正好与我的义务一致，或者我的义务和我的愿望相符合，我的命运该多好啊；大多数人的生活使命就是完全忠实于自己的义务，并且凭激情把义务转换成自己的愿望。悲剧英雄为了履行义务而放弃愿望。对信仰骑士而言，义务和愿望也是完全相同的，但是却被要求两者都放弃。所以当他顺从地放弃愿望时，他找不到安宁，因为他放弃的毕竟是他的义务。如果他既忠实于义务，又忠实于愿望，那他就不会变成信仰骑士，因为绝对的义务恰恰要求他放弃二者（他的愿望和义务相同）。悲剧英雄获得的是对义务，但不是绝对的义务，的更高等的表达。——原注

【8】　即上帝。——译者注

【9】　公开透露被隐藏的秘密。——译者注

【10】　这些运动和立场也是可以从美学的角度处理的话题。但是从美学角度对信仰和追求信仰的生活进行讨论可以达到何种程度，我暂且不下结论。因为我总是喜欢感谢那些对我有帮助的人，在此我谨表达一下我对莱辛的感激，因为我从他在《汉堡剧评》中写的一个基督教戏剧里得到了一些启示。但是他着重写的是那种生活的纯神性的一面（完美胜利），因此他感到绝望。如果他更关注那种生活的人性的一面，也许他会得出不同的结论（旅人神学）。的确，他所说的很简要，有些部分还有些含糊难以捉摸，但是我见到莱辛的作品总是很开心，所以我立即抓住这机会好好研读。莱辛不仅是德国最博学的智者之一，他治学严谨准确，这样我们在引用他的作品时，可以很放心，不用担心用了不可靠汇编里不准确或捏造的引用，一知半解的语句，或者担心宣传他写的什么新颖的东西而又发现那其实是古人早已描述得更好的东西，因此感到吃惊和受到愚弄；此外，他还有一种非凡的天赋，就是善于解释他所理解的东西。而且仅此而已，他不会解释自己不理解的东西。现在的人们经常更进一步，还要解释自己不懂的东西。

【11】　根据亚里士多德所说，该灾难的经过如下：为了复仇，新娘家人把一个神庙花瓶放置到新郎家里的家庭用品中，这样新郎就被谴责为神庙强盗。但这并不重要，因为这儿的问题不是新娘家人在报复时所采用的方法是聪明还是愚蠢，这娘家人的存在只是因其对英雄的辩证学有影响才有了理论上的意义。而且，尽管新郎想通过不结婚来避免危险，结果却反而正好陷入到危险中，这一事实就够宿命的；而他的生活从两重意义上与神圣者形成了联系，一重是通过占卜师所说的话，另一重是通过被谴责为神庙盗贼，这一事实也是很宿命的。

【12】　在此，我们可以从另一个方向来进行辩证分析运动。上天预言了一场因婚姻而起的个人灾难，所以他不妨放弃婚姻但不必因此放弃那姑娘，他可以和她处于一种浪漫关系中，这也会很令恋人们满意的。然而，这样做对那姑娘是一种侮辱，因为他没有用普遍性（即婚姻。——译者注）来表达他对她的爱，而诗人和伦理学家的任务都是捍卫婚姻。从整体而言，如果诗歌要注意分析它的人物角色的宗教方面和内在情感，它可以驾驭比它现在所忙于的主题更重大的主题。以下就是诗歌反复给我们讲述的故事：一男子为他曾爱过的或者从未真正爱过的女孩所困，因为他现在已经视另一个女孩为理想爱人。人在生活中犯错误，这街道是对的，但房屋错了，因为理想爱人就住在街对面二楼——这就是人们所认为的合适的诗歌话题。一个恋人犯了错误，他借着烛光看见了喜爱之人，以为她长着黑色头发，但是瞧，仔细看，她是金发——然而，她的姐姐才是理想爱人。这就是人们所认为的诗歌的主题。在我看来，任何这样的人在现实生活中是令人无法忍受的无礼蠢人，他一旦试图摆诗歌的架子就应该立即被嘘下舞台。只有激情与激情的碰撞才构成诗歌里的冲突，而同一激情里的关于细节琐事的喧闹则不能形成诗意的碰撞。举个例子，在中世纪，当一个女孩坠入情网，但接着被说服，认为世俗爱情是一种罪，因而喜欢天国爱情，这样我们就有了诗意的冲突；而这女孩也是富于诗意的，因为她生活在理想之中。

【13】　其实，还有探讨这个传说的另一种方式。那人鱼不想引诱艾格尼丝，尽管之前他已引诱了很多姑娘。他不再是个人鱼，或者，如果你愿意叫他为人鱼的话，他是个可怜的人鱼，已经悲伤地坐在海底有一段时间了。不过，他知道（正如传说里讲的）一个纯真姑娘的爱可以拯救自己。但是他对姑娘们感到良心不安，不敢接近她们。后来，他看见了艾格尼丝。当他隐身于芦苇中时，他已多次看到她在海滩上行走。她的美，她的安静与泰然自若征服了他；但是他的灵魂充满了悲伤，心中没有了汹涌的欲望。当人鱼的叹息和芦苇的飒飒声融为一体时，她侧耳倾听，然后她一动不动，陷入幻想梦境之中。她比任何女人都迷人，而且像一个美丽的拯救天使一样给了他信心。人鱼鼓起勇气，走近艾格尼丝，赢得了她的爱，他希望因此得到救赎。但是，艾格尼丝可不是个安静的姑娘，实际上她很喜欢大海的咆哮，当时海边的悲叹声之所以使她喜欢是因为这悲叹声使她心中的咆哮更加猛烈。她愿意和她所爱的人鱼远走他乡，狂野地奔向那无穷无限之处，所以她故意怂恿煽动人鱼。她蔑视他的谦恭，于是他的骄傲自尊醒了。大海咆哮着，浪涛澎湃，人鱼抱住艾格尼丝跳进大海深处。他从未如此狂野，也从未如此满怀欲望，因为他希望借助这个姑娘得到解救。不久，他厌倦了艾格尼丝，但是她的尸体从未被发现，因为她已变成了一条美人鱼，她用她的歌声引诱男人。

【14】　有时美学用它通常的卖弄方式来探讨类似的主题。那人鱼通过艾格尼丝得救，他们结婚了，一切皆大欢喜。那是个幸福的婚姻！确实，这样处理十分方便容易。但是，如果要伦理学来发表婚礼致辞的话，我想，就会是不同的情形了。美学给人鱼披上爱的外衣，这样一切都被忘记了。认为婚礼上的事就像拍卖，一切都按它在落锤时的样子来决定，那也是够轻率鲁莽的。美学所关心的是恋人们得到彼此，其余的都无关紧要。要是它能够看到事后会发生什么就好了！但是它没有时间关心那个，它立马又全力以赴在撮合另一对恋人了。在所有科学分支中，美学是最没有信仰的。任何真正爱美学的人在某种意义上都变得不快乐；而任何从未爱过美学的人是而且永远是个牲畜（或傻子）。

【15】　到目前为止，我一直小心地避免讨论罪及其现实问题。一切讨论都以亚伯拉罕为中心，而对他我们仍然可以在直接的范畴里进行讨论，至少在我自己可以对他进行理解的范围内讨论。但是一旦罪这个因素出现，伦理学就因悔悟这个问题而遭受挫败。悔悟是伦理的最高表现形式，但正因为此原因，它也是伦理最深刻的自我矛盾之处。

【16】　我们这个严肃的时代不相信这个，然而，值得注意的是，即便是在异教信仰中，更随和的和不那么沉溺于反思的，这两个作为希腊存在概念里“了解自己”的典型代表，都用自己的方式暗示，如果一个人探索自己的内心深处，他首先发现的是邪恶的性情。我几乎不用说我说的是毕达哥拉斯和苏格拉底。

【17】　所有伟大的天才都有一点疯狂癫痴。——译者注

【18】　如果我们不愿用一个怀疑者来作例子，一个类似的人物也可以。比如说，一个讽刺家，他锐利的眼光看透了生活的滑稽可笑，他通过像轮胎一样势不可挡的神秘理解力探知病人的需求。他知道他掌控笑的力量；如果他动用这种力量，他肯定会胜利，而且，他也确信自己会幸福。他不仅知道会有某种声音反对自己，还知道他自己比那声音更强大；他知道还可以使人们暂时显得严肃，但也知道，秘密地，他们渴望和他一同欢笑；他知道使一个女士说话时暂时将扇子举到眼睛前面依然是可能的，但他也知道扇子后面她在发笑，他知道那扇子不是完全不透明的，他知道人们可以在它上面做隐形的题字，他知道当一个女士用扇子打他，那是因为她已理解了他，他绝无错误地知道笑意如何悄悄溜进一个人的心里并秘密地住下来，知道它一旦留下来会如何埋伏等待。让我们想象一下稍做改变后的这样一个阿里斯多芬尼斯，这样的一个伏尔泰，因为他也是富有同情心的人，他热爱生活，热爱人们，并且知道，即便年轻、得到拯救的一代人可能从对笑的遣责中获得教益，然而在他自己这个时代，对笑的遣责对很多人来说会意味着毁灭。所以他保持沉默并尽可能地忘记如何去笑。但是他敢保持沉默吗？也许很多人不明白我所指的困难。他们会很可能认为他保持沉默是很高尚很令人钦佩的。那根本不是我所想的。我认为如果任何这样的人没有保持沉默的高尚大度，那他就是生活的变节者。所以我要求他有这样的慷慨大度。但是如果他有的话，他就敢保持沉默。伦理学是一种危险的科学，而且阿里斯多芬尼斯很可能纯粹是出于伦理的考虑才决定让笑声来评判他这个被误导的时代。美学上的高尚大度对于解决人是否应保持沉默这个问题是无济于事的。它的账户没有冒此类风险的信用栏目。如果他保持沉默，他必定会陷入悖论。——但是还有一种故事方案：比如，假设某人拥有一种对一个公众英雄的生活的解释，但是这种解释是一种令人悲叹的解释，然而整个一代人都对这个英雄充满信赖，根本不疑心会有任何这样的事。

【19】　赫洛斯特拉托斯：古希腊人，他为了出名，在公元前356年纵火烧毁了著名的亚尔德米斯神庙。——译者注

【20】　关于苏格拉底的哪一句话可以被视为最后关键性的话，人们有不同意见，因为苏格拉底已经被柏拉图以多种方式诗意地发挥美化了。我对此作如下建议：当他被判处死刑的那一刻，他死了，并用那句著名的回答完成了自我实现，他的回答是，他对自己被法庭以三票的微弱多数票判处死刑感到惊讶。在他对轻率的市井之语或蠢人之语的评论中也找不到他对自己被判死刑的评论中所体现出的莫大的讽刺性玩笑语气了。

【21】　如果此处有任何类比的问题，毕达哥拉斯死亡的情形可以提供一个类比的例子。在他的最后时刻，他必须将他一直保持的沉默贯彻到底，使之圆满结束，所以他说：“被杀死也比说出来要好。”参见《戴奥真尼斯》第8卷，第39段。

后　记

从前，在荷兰，调味品香料市场价格一度低迷，商人们为了抬高价格让人把几船货物倒入海中。那是一种可以原谅的，也许是必要的欺骗策略。在精神世界是否也需要类似这样的策略？我们真的如此深信我们已经达到了最高点，以至于除了虔诚地相信我们还没有走那么远，还没有达到那高度，以便我们至少有可以消磨时间的东西以外，就没有剩下可以做的事了吗？这是否是现代人所需要的一种自我欺骗？这代人是否应该在自我欺骗的精湛技巧方面受到教育和培训？又或者，难道说这个时代在自我欺骗之术上不是已然精于此道了？又或者说难道它最需要的不是那种无畏而又刚正廉洁地唤起人们注意任务的诚挚精神——这种诚挚精神小心地保护着任务，它不是把人们吓得想要仓促冲向那最高的任务要去完成它，而是使任务令所有人看起来年轻美丽而迷人，但同时又很难，对高尚之人是一种激励，既然本性高尚之人的热情只会受到困难的激励？不管一代人会从另一代人那里学到什么，他们绝无法从前辈身上学到那种真正的人性因素。在这一方面，每一代人都重新开始，和前一代人有着相同的任务，但也不会超越前一代人，如果后一代人没有躲避自己的任务，自欺欺人的话。这种真正的人性因素就是激情，在这种激情中，一代人完全理解另一代人，也理解自己。因而没有哪代人从另一代人那儿学会了如何去爱，每一代人都要从头开始，后代的任务绝不比前一代的少，而如果某个人不愿意像前辈们那样止步于爱，而想要更进一步，走得更远，那么那纯粹是愚蠢无聊之谈。

但是，一个人的最高激情是信仰。在这方面，没有哪代人和前一代人有什么不同的起点。每代人都完全重新开始，而后代也不会超越前代，如果后者忠于自己的使命而没有背叛它。这听起来让人觉得厌倦是这代人不能说的话，因为的确是这代人要完成这任务，而这与前一代人有相同的任务这一事实是无关的，除非某个特别的一代或这一代人里某些特别的个人极为自大，以至于占据了只属于统治万物的神灵的位置，而神灵又有足够的忍耐心不厌烦此事。如果这代人开始做这类的事情，那就是反常错误的，那么，对此而言一切存在都是颠倒的，这就不足为奇了，因为肯定谁也没有童话故事里的那个裁缝所看到的世界更颠倒了——那裁缝在他一生中曾来到天堂，从天堂的位置俯瞰这世界。如果这一代人只关注自己的任务使命，一代人所能追求的至高无上的使命，那么他们就不会感到厌倦，因为这任务对一个人一辈子总是足够了。当假日里的孩子在中午之前玩遍了所有游戏，然后不耐烦地问：“没有人能想出新的游戏吗？”这是否说明他们比同时代或前一代的能持续一整天玩自己熟悉的游戏的孩子们要更成熟更先进呢？又或者这恰恰证明这些孩子缺乏我想称之为玩游戏时本来应有的认真精神？

信仰是一个人身上至高无上的激情。每一代人中的很多人可能都走不到信仰那么高那么远的境界，但没有一个人走得更远，没有人超越信仰。在我们这个时代是否有很多人没有发现这一点，对此我暂不作出结论。我只能参考我自己的经历，我不隐瞒自己在信任方面还有很长的路要走这一事实，但也不因此想要通过把信仰描述得很平凡很没有意义，描述得像人们希望尽快结束的童年的一场小病那样，来自欺欺人或背叛信仰这伟大之事。但是即便是对那没有达到信仰境界的人而言，生活也有足够的任务，而当他热爱这些任务时，生活也绝不会被虚度，尽管这样的生活与那种理解和抓住了最伟大的事的生活是不可比拟的。但是任何到达信仰的人（不管是天赋非凡者还是头脑简单者都一样）都不会停在那儿原地不动。要是有人说他止步于信仰，他甚至会大为惊讶，就像若有人说一个恋人在爱情上停滞不前，那个恋人会感到义愤一样，因为那恋人会回答说：“我绝不是在我的爱情中静止不动，我的整个生命都在这爱情中。”然而他也是不会走得更远，也不会走向别处。因为当他发现这一点时，他对此会有另一个不同的解释。

“人必须更进一步，人必须更进一步。”这种继续向前的需要和冲动是自古以来就有的。以“晦涩”闻名的希腊哲学家赫拉克利特把他的思想保存于他的著作中，把他的著作存放于戴安娜神庙中（因为他的思想是他生命的盔甲，因此他将它们悬挂于女神之庙中），晦涩的赫拉克利特说：“人绝不可能两次踏入同一条河流。”【1】赫拉克利特有一个弟子，他没有止步于此，而是更进一步说：“人甚至一次也不能踏进同一条河流。”【2】可怜的赫拉克利特竟有这样的一个弟子！该弟子这一改进把赫拉克利特的原理变成了否定运动的埃利亚学派的论点，而那弟子想要做的只是做一个走得更远的赫拉克利特的徒弟，而不是回到赫拉克利特已经抛弃的观点上。

注释

【1】　他比较一条河流中的存在，说：“人不能两次走进同一条河流。”参见柏拉图的《克拉图鲁斯》第402节，《柏拉图全集》第3卷，第158页。

【2】　参见泰尼曼的《哲学史》第1卷，第220页。

Søren Kierkegaard

Fear and Trembling

TRANSLATED BY ALASTAIR HANNAY

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

Fear and Trembling

What Tarquin the Proud said in his garden with the poppy blooms was understood by the son but not by the messenger.

HAMANN

Preface

Not just in commerce but in the world of ideas too our age is putting on a veritable clearance sale. Everything can be had so dirt cheap that one begins to wonder whether in the end anyone will want to make a bid. Every speculative score-keeper who conscientiously marks up the momentous march of modern philosophy, every lecturer, crammer, student, everyone on the outskirts of philosophy or at its centre is unwilling to stop with doubting everything. They all go further. It would perhaps be malapropos to inquire where they think they are going, though surely we may in all politeness and respect take it for granted that they have indeed doubted everything, otherwise it would be odd to talk of going further. This preliminary step is one they have all of them taken, and presumably with so little effort as to feel no need to drop some word about how; for not even someone genuinely anxious for a little enlightenment on this will find such. Not a gesture that might point him in the right direction, no small dietary prescription for how to go about such a huge task. 'But Descartes did it, didn't he?' A venerable, humble, honest thinker whose writings surely no one can read without being most deeply stirred — Descartes must have done what he has said and said what he has done. A rare enough occurrence in our own time! Descartes, as he himself repeatedly insists, was no doubter in matters of faith. ('[B]ut we must keep in mind what has been said, that we must trust to this natural light only so long as nothing contrary to it is revealed by God himself ... Above all we should impress on our memory as an infallible rule that what God has revealed to us is incomparably more certain than anything else; and that we ought to submit to the Divine authority rather than to our own judgement even though the light of reason may seem to us to suggest, with the utmost clearness and evidence, something opposite' [from Principles 28 and 76 of Prin-ciples of Philosophy].) Descartes has not cried 'Fire!' and made it everyone's duty to doubt, for Descartes was a quiet and lonely thinker, not a bellowing streetwatch; he was modest enough to allow that his method was important only for himself and sprang partly from his own earlier bungling with knowledge. ('Thus my design here is not to teach the Method which everyone should follow in order to promote the good conduct of Reason, but only to show in what manner I have endeavoured to conduct my own ... But so soon as I had achieved the entire course of study [that is, of his youth — Johannes de silentio's interpolation] at the close of which one is usually received into the ranks of the learned, I entirely changed my opinion. For I found myself embarrassed with so many doubts and errors that it seemed to me that the effort to instruct myself had no effect other than the increasing discovery of my own ignorance' [Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason and Seeking the Truth in the Sciences].) — What those old Greeks, whom one must also credit with a little knowledge of philosophy, took to be the task of a whole lifetime, doubt not being a skill one acquires in days and weeks; what the old veteran warrior achieved after keeping the balance of doubt in the face of all inveiglements, fearlessly rejecting the certainties of sense and thought, incorruptibly defying selfish anxieties and the wheedling of sympathies — that is where nowadays everyone begins.

Today nobody will stop with faith; they all go further. It would perhaps be rash to inquire where to, but surely a mark of urbanity and good breeding on my part to assume that in fact everyone does indeed have faith, otherwise it would be odd to talk of going further. In those old days it was different. For then faith was a task for a whole lifetime, not a skill thought to be acquired in either days or weeks. When the old campaigner approached the end, had fought the good fight, and kept his faith, his heart was still young enough not to have forgotten the fear and trembling that disciplined his youth and which, although the grown man mastered it, no man altogether outgrows — unless he somehow manages at the earliest possible opportunity to go further. Where these venerable figures arrived our own age begins, in order to go further.

The present author is no philosopher, he has not understood the System, nor does he know if there really is one, or if it has been completed. As far as his own weak head is concerned the thought of what huge heads everyone must have in order to have such huge thoughts is already enough. Even if one were able to render the whole of the content of faith into conceptual form, it would not follow that one had grasped faith, grasped how one came to it, or how it came to one. The present author is no philosopher, he is poetice et eleganter [to put it in poetic and well-chosen terms], an occasional copyist who neither writes the System nor makes any promises about it, who pledges neither anything about the System nor himself to it. He writes because for him doing so is a luxury, the more agreeable and conspicuous the fewer who buy and read what he writes. In an age where passion has been done away with for the sake of science he easily foresees his fate — in an age when an author who wants readers must be careful to write in a way that he can be comfortably leafed through during the after-dinner nap, and be sure to present himself to the world like the polite gardener's boy in the Advertiser who, hat in hand and with good references from his previous place of employment, recommends himself to a much-esteemed public. He foresees his fate will be to be completely ignored; has a dreadful foreboding that the scourge of zealous criticism will more than once make itself felt; and shudders at what terrifies him even more, that some enterprising recorder, a paragraph swallower who to rescue learning is always willing to do to others' writings what, to 'preserve good taste', Trop nobly did to The Destruction of the Human Race, will slice him into sections as ruthlessly as the man who, in the service of the science of punctuation, divided up his speech by counting the words and putting a full-stop after every fifty and a semi-colon after every thirty-five. No, I prostrate myself before any systematic bag-searcher; this is not the System, it hasn't the slightest thing to do with the System. I wish all good on the System and on the Danish shareholders in that omnibus; for it will hardly become a tower. I wish them good luck and prosperity one and all.

Respectfully

Johannes de silentio

Attunement

There was once a man; he had learned as a child that beautiful tale of how God tried Abraham, how he withstood the test, kept his faith and for the second time received a son against every expectation. When he became older he read the same story with even greater admiration, for life had divided what had been united in the child's pious simplicity. The older he became the more often his thoughts turned to that tale, his enthusiasm became stronger and stronger, and yet less and less could he understand it. Finally it put everything else out of his mind; his soul had but one wish, actually to see Abraham, and one longing, to have been witness to those events. It was not the beautiful regions of the East, nor the earthly splendour of the Promised Land, he longed to see, not the God-fearing couple whose old age God had blessed, not the venerable figure of the patriarch stricken in years, not the youthful vigour God gave to Isaac — it would have been the same if it had taken place on a barren heath. What he yearned for was to accompany them on the three-day journey, when Abraham rode with grief before him and Isaac by his side. He wanted to be there at that' moment when Abraham raised his eyes and saw in the distance the mountain in Moriah, the moment he left the asses behind and went on up the mountain alone with Isaac. For what occupied him was not the finely wrought fabric of imagination, but the shudder of thought.

This man was no thinker, he felt no need to go further than faith. To be remembered as its father seemed to him to be surely the greatest glory of all, and to have it a lot to be envied even if no one else knew.

This man was no learned exegete, he knew no Hebrew; had he known Hebrew then perhaps it might have been easy for him to understand the story of Abraham.

Ⅰ

And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him ... Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.

It was early morning. Abraham rose in good time, had the asses saddled and left his tent, taking Isaac with him, but Sarah watched them from the window as they went down the valley until she could see them no more. They rode in silence for three days; on the morning of the fourth Abraham still said not a word, but raised his eyes and saw afar the mountain in Moriah. He left the servants behind and went on alone up the mountain with Isaac beside him. But Abraham said to himself: 'I won't conceal from Isaac where this way is leading him.'He stood still, laid his hand on Isaac's head to give him his blessing, and Isaac bent down to receive it. And Abraham's expression was fatherly, his gaze gentle, his speech encouraging. But Isaac could not understand him, his soul could not be uplifted; he clung to Abraham's knees, pleaded at his feet, begged for his young life, for his fair promise; he called to mind the joy in Abraham's house, reminded him of the sorrow and loneliness. Then Abraham lifted the boy up and walked with him, taking him by the hand, and his words were full of comfort and exhortation. But Isaac could not understand him. Abraham climbed the mountain in Moriah, but Isaac did not understand him. Then he turned away from Isaac for a moment, but when Isaac saw his face a second time it was changed, his gaze was wild, his mien one of horror. He caught Isaac by the chest, threw him to the ground and said: 'Foolish boy, do you believe I am your father? I am an idolater. Do you believe this is God's command? No, it is my own desire.' Then Isaac trembled and in his anguish cried: 'God in heaven have mercy on me, God of Abraham have mercy on me; if I have no father on earth, then be Thou my father!' But below his breath Abraham said to himself: 'Lord in heaven I thank Thee; it is after all better that he believe I am a monster than that he lose faith in Thee.'

＊

When the child is to be weaned the mother blackens her breast, for it would be a shame were the breast to look pleasing when the child is not to have it. So the child believes that the breast has changed but the mother is the same, her look loving and tender as ever. Lucky the one that needed no more terrible means to wean the child!

Ⅱ

It was early morning. Abraham rose in good time, embraced Sarah, the bride of his old age, and Sarah kissed Isaac, who had taken her disgrace from her, was her pride and hope for all generations. So they rode on in silence and Abraham's eyes were fixed on the ground, until the fourth day when he looked up and saw afar the mountain in Moriah, but he turned his gaze once again to the ground. Silently he arranged the fire-wood, bound Isaac; silently he drew the knife. Then he saw the ram that God had appointed. He sacrificed that and returned home ... From that day on, Abraham became old, he Could not forget that God had demanded this of him. Isaac throve as before; but Abraham's eye was darkened, he saw joy no more.

＊

When the child has grown and is to be weaned the mother virginally covers her breast, so the child no more has a mother. Lucky the child that lost its mother in no other way!

Ⅲ

It was early morning. Abraham rose in good time, kissed Sarah the young mother, and Sarah kissed Isaac, her delight, her joy for ever. And Abraham rode thoughtfully on. He thought of Hagar and of the son whom he had driven out into the desert. He climbed the mountain in Moriah, he drew the knife.

It was a tranquil evening when Abraham rode out alone, and he rode to the mountain in Moriah: he threw himself on his face, he begged God to forgive his sin at having been willing to sacrifice Isaac, at the father's having forgotten his duty to his son. He rode more frequently on his lonely way, but found no peace. He could not comprehend that it was a sin to have been willing to sacrifice to God the best he owned; that for which he would many a time have gladly laid down his own life; and if it was a sin, if he had not so loved Isaac, then he could not understand that it could be forgiven; for what sin was more terrible?

＊

When the child is to be weaned the mother too is not without sorrow, that she and the child grow more and more apart; that the child which first lay beneath her heart, yet later rested at her breast, should no longer be so close. Thus together they suffer this brief sorrow. Lucky the one who kept the child so close and had no need to sorrow more!

Ⅳ

It was early morning. Everything had been made ready for the journey in Abraham's house. Abraham took leave of Sarah, and the faithful servant Eleazar followed him out on the way until he had to turn back. They rode together in accord, Abraham and Isaac, until they came to the mountain in Moriah. Yet Abraham made everything ready for the sacrifice, calmly and quietly, but as he turned away Isaac saw that Abraham's left hand was clenched in anguish, that a shudder went through his body — but Abraham drew the knife.

Then they turned home again and Sarah ran to meet them, but Isaac had lost his faith. Never a word in the whole world is spoken of this, and Isaac told no one what he had seen, and Abraham never suspected that anyone had seen it.

＊

When the child is to be weaned the mother has more solid food at hand, so that the child will not perish. Lucky the one who has more solid food at hand!

In these and similar ways this man of whom we speak thought about those events. Every time he came home from a journey to the mountain in Moriah he collapsed in weariness, clasped his hands, and said: 'Yet no one was as great as Abraham; who is able to understand him?'

Speech in Praise of Abraham

If there were no eternal consciousness in a man, if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment, a power that twisting in dark passions produced everything great or inconsequential; if an unfathomable, insatiable emptiness lay hid beneath everything, what would life be but despair? If it were thus, if there were no sacred bond uniting mankind, if one generation rose up after another like the leaves of the forest, if one generation succeeded the other as the songs of birds in the woods, if the human race passed through the world as a ship through the sea or the wind through the desert, a thoughtless and fruitless whim, if an eternal oblivion always lurked hungrily for its prey and there were no power strong enough to wrest it from its clutches — how empty and devoid of comfort would life be! But for that reason it is not so, and as God created man and woman, so too he shaped the hero and the poet or speech-maker. The latter has none of the skills of the former, he can only admire, love, take pleasure in the hero. Yet he, too, no less than the hero, is happy; for the hero is so to speak that better nature of his in which he is enamoured, though happy that it is not himself, that his love can indeed be admiration. He is the spirit of remembrance, can only bring to mind what has been done, do nothing but admire what has been done. He takes nothing of himself, but is jealous of his charge. He follows his heart's desire, but having found what he sought he wanders round to everyone's door with his song and his speech, so that all can admire the hero as he does, be proud of the hero as he is. That is his achievement, his humble task, this his faithful service in the hero's house. If he remains thus true to his love, if he struggles night and day against the wiles of oblivion, which would cheat him of his hero, then he has fulfilled his task, he is united with the hero who in his turn has loved him just as faithfully, for the poet is so to speak the hero's better nature, ineffectual certainly as a memory is, but also transfigured as a memory is. Therefore no one who was great will be forgotten: and however long it takes, even if a cloud of misunderstanding should take the hero away, his lover still comes, and the more time goes by the more faithfully he sticks by him.

No! No one shall be forgotten who was great in this world; but everyone was great in his own way, and everyone in proportion to the greatness of what he loved. For he who loved himself became great in himself, and he who loved others became great through his devotion, but he who loved God became greater than all. They shall all be remembered, but everyone became great in proportion to his expectancy. One became great through expecting the possible, another by expecting the eternal; but he who expected the impossible became greater than all. They shall all be remembered, but everyone was great in proportion to the magnitude of what he strove with. For he who strove with the world became great by conquering the world, and he who strove with himself became greater by conquering himself; but he who strove with God became greater than all. Thus there was strife in the world, man against man, one against thousands, but he who strove with God was greater than all. Thus there was strife upon earth: there was he who conquered everything by his own strength, and he who conquered God by his powerlessness, There was one relied upon himself and gained everything, and one who, secure in his own strength, sacrificed everything; but greater than all was the one who believed God. There was one who was great in his strength, and one who was great in his wisdom, and one who was great in hope, and one who was great in love; but greater than all was Abraham, great with that power whose strength is powerlessness, great in that wisdom whose secret is folly, great in that hope whose outward form is insanity, great in that love which is hatred of self.

It was by his faith that Abraham could leave the land of his fathers to become a stranger in the land of promise. He left one thing behind, took another with him. He left behind his worldly understanding and took with him his faith. Otherwise he would surely not have gone; certainly it would have been senseless to do so. It was by his faith that he could be a stranger in the promised land; there was nothing to remind him of what was dear, but the novelty of everything tempted his soul to sad longing. And yet he was God's chosen, in whom the Lord was well pleased! Yes, indeed! If only he had been disowned, cast out from God's grace, he would have understood it better. As it was it looked more like a mockery of himself and his faith. There was once another who lived in exile from the beloved land of his fathers. He is not forgotten, nor his songs of lament in which in sorrow he sought and found what he had lost. From Abraham we have no song of lament. It is human to complain, human to weep with one who weeps, but it is greater to have faith and more blessed to behold the believer.

It was faith that made Abraham accept the promise that all nations of the earth should be blessed in his seed. Time went by, the possibility was still there, and Abraham had faith; time went by, it became unlikely, and Abraham had faith. There was once another who held out an expectation. Time went by, the evening drew near, he was not so pitiful as to forget his expectation; therefore he too should not be forgotten. Then he sorrowed, and the sorrow did not deceive him as life had done; it did all it could for him and in the sweetness of sorrow he possessed his disappointed expectation. It is human to sorrow with the sorrower, but greater to have faith and more blessed to behold the believer. From Abraham we have no song of sorrow. As time went by he did not mournfully count the days, he did not cast suspicious glances at Sarah, fearing she was growing old; he did not stay the march of the sun, so that Sarah should not grow old and with her his expectation; he did not soothingly sing to Sarah his mournful lay. Abraham became old and Sarah was mocked in the land, and still he was God's chosen and heir to the promise that in his seed all nations of the earth would be blessed. Would it not be better, then, were he not God's chosen? What is it to be God's chosen? Is it to be denied in youth one's youthful desire in order to have it fulfilled in great travail in old age? But Abraham believed and held firm to the promise. Had Abraham wavered he would have renounced it. He would have said to God: 'So perhaps after all it is not your will that it should happen; then I will give up my desire, it was my only desire, my blessed joy. My soul is upright, I bear no secret grudge because you refused it.' He would not have been forgotten, he would have saved many by his example, yet he would not have become the father of faith; for it is great to give up one's desire, but greater to stick to it after having given it up; it is great to grasp hold of the eternal but greater to stick to the temporal after having given it up. But then came the fullness of time. Had Abraham not had faith, then Sarah would surely have died of sorrow, and Abraham, dull with grief, instead of understanding the fulfilment, would have smiled at it as at a youthful dream. But Abraham believed, and therefore he was young; for he who always hopes for the best becomes old, deceived by life, and he who is always prepared for the worst becomes old prematurely; but he who has faith, retains eternal youth. All praise then to that tale! For Sarah, though stricken in years, was young enough to covet the pleasure of motherhood; and Abraham, though grey of head, was young enough to want to be a father. Outwardly the wonder of faith is in Abraham and Sarah's being young enough for it to happen according to their expectations; in a deeper sense the wonder of faith lies in Abraham and Sarah's being young enough to wish, and in faith's having preserved their wish and through it their youthfulness. He accepted the fulfilment of the promise, he accepted it in faith, and it happened according to expectation and according to faith; for Moses struck the rock with his rod but he did not believe.

So there was rejoicing in Abraham's house when Sarah was bride on their golden-wedding day.

But it was not to remain so; Abraham was to be tried once more. He had fought with that subtle power that invents everything, with that watchful opponent that never takes a nap, with that old man who outlives everything — time itself. He had fought with it and kept his faith. Now all the horrors of the struggle were to be concentrated in one moment. 'And God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him ... Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.'

So all was lost, more terrible than if it had never been! So the Lord was only making sport of Abraham! Through a miracle he had made the preposterous come true, now he would see it again brought to nothing. Foolery indeed! But Abraham did not laugh at it, as Sarah had laughed when the promise had first been proclaimed. All was lost! Seventy years' faithful expectation, the brief joy at faith's fulfilment. Who is it then that snatches the staff from the old man, who is it that demands that the old man himself should break it? Who is it that makes a man's grey hairs forlorn, who is it that demands that he himself should make them so? Is there no compassion for this venerable greybeard, none for the innocent child? And yet Abraham was God's chosen, and it was the Lord who put him to this test. All was now surely lost! The glorious memory of the human race, the promise in Abraham's seed, it was only a whim, a fleeting thought of the Lord's, which Abraham himself must now eradicate. That glorious treasure, as old as the faith in Abraham's heart, many many years older than Isaac, the fruit of Abraham's life, hallowed with prayers, ripened in struggle — the blessing on Abraham's lips, this fruit was now to be plucked out of season and have no meaning; for what meaning could there be in it if Isaac was to be sacrificed! That sad yet still blessed hour when Abraham should take leave of everything he held dear, when he should raise his venerable head one time more, when his countenance should be radiant as the Lord's, when he should concentrate his whole soul in a blessing with the power to give Isaac joy all his days — that moment was not to come! For, yes, Abraham would indeed take leave of Isaac, but it was he that was to remain; death would divide them, but Isaac was to be its victim. The old man was not to lay his hand upon Isaac in blessing, but weary of life was to lay it upon him in violence. And it was God who tried him. Yes. Woe, woe to the messenger who came before Abraham with such tidings! Who would have dared be the emissary of such sorrow? Yet it was God who tried Abraham.

But Abraham had faith, and had faith for this life. Yes, had his faith only been for a future life it would indeed have been easier to cast everything aside in order to hasten out of this world to which he did not belong. But Abraham's faith was not of that kind, if there is such, for a faith like that is not really faith but only its remotest possibility, a faith that has some inkling of its object at the very edge of the field of vision but remains separated from it by a yawning abyss in which despair plays its pranks. But it was for this life that Abraham believed, he believed he would become old in his land, honoured among his people, blessed in his kin, eternally remembered in Isaac, the dearest in his life, whom he embraced with a love for which it was but a poor expression to say that he faithfully fulfilled the father's duty to love the son, as indeed the summons put it: 'the son whom thou lovest.' Jacob had twelve sons and he loved one; Abraham had just one, the son he loved.

But Abraham had faith and did not doubt. He believed the ridiculous. If Abraham had doubted — then he would have done something else, something great and glorious; for how could Abraham have done other than what is great and glorious? He would have marched out to the mountain in Moriah, chopped the firewood, set light to the fire, drawn the knife — he would have cried out to God: 'Do not scorn this sacrifice, it is not the best I possess, that I well know; for what is an old man compared with the child of promise, but it is the best I can give. Let Isaac never come to know, that he may comfort himself in his young years.' He would have thrust the knife into his own breast. He would have been admired in the world and his name never forgotten; but it is one thing to be admired, another to be a guiding star that saves the anguished.

But Abraham had faith. He did not beg for himself in hope of moving the Lord; it was only that time when the just punishment had been proclaimed upon Sodom and Gomorrah that Abraham came forward with his prayers.

We read in those Holy Scriptures: 'And God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him, Abraham: Abraham, where are you? but Abraham answered: here I am.' You, to whom my speech is addressed, was that the case with you? When you saw, far off, the heavy fate approaching, did you not say to the mountains, 'hide me', to the hills, fall on me'? Or if you were stronger, did your feet nevertheless not drag along the way? Did they not hanker, as it were, to get back into the old tracks? When you were called, did you answer, or did you not? Perhaps softly and in a whisper? Not so Abraham, gladly, boldly, trustingly he answered out loud 'here I am'. We read further: 'And Abraham rose up early in the morning.' He hurried as though to some celebration, and he was at the appointed place, the mountain in Moriah, early in the morning. He said nothing to Sarah, nothing to Eleazar. After all, who could have understood him? Hadn't the test by its very nature exacted an oath of silence from him? 'And [he] clave the wood, he bound Isaac, he kindled the fire, he drew the knife.' My hearer! Many a father has felt the loss of his child as the loss of the dearest thing he has in the world, to be bereft of every hope for the future; yet no son was the child of promise in the sense that Isaac was for Abraham. Many a father has lost his child, but then it was God, the unchangeable and inscrutable will of the Almighty, it was his hand that took it. Not so with Abraham. For him a harder trial was reserved; along with the knife the fate of Isaac was put into Abraham's own hand. And he stood there, the old man with his only hope! But he did not doubt, he did not look in anguish to left or right, he did not challenge heaven with his prayers. He knew it was God the Almighty that tried him, he knew it was the hardest sacrifice that could be demanded of him; but he also knew that no sacrifice was too hard when God demanded it — and he drew the knife.

Who gave strength to Abraham's arm, who kept his right arm raised so that it did not fall helplessly down! Anyone who saw this would be paralysed. Who gave strength to Abraham's soul, so that his eye did not become too clouded to see either Isaac or the ram! Anyone who saw this would become blind. And yet rare enough though they may be, those who are both paralysed and blind, still more rare is he who can tell the story and give it its due. We know it, all of us — it was only a trial.

Had Abraham doubted as he stood on the mountain in Moriah, had he looked about in indecision, if before drawing the knife he had accidentally caught sight of the ram and God had allowed him to offer it in place of Isaac — then he would have gone home, everything would have been as before, he would have had Sarah, he would have kept Isaac, and yet how changed! For his withdrawal would have been a flight, his deliverance an accident, his reward dishonour, his future perhaps damnation. Then he would have borne witness, not to his faith or to God's mercy, but to how dreadful was the journey to the mountain in Moriah. Abraham would not be forgotten, nor the mountain. Yet it would not be mentioned like Ararat, where the Ark came to land, but as a horror, for it was here that Abraham doubted.

Venerable Father Abraham! When you journeyed home from the mountain in Moriah you needed no speech of praise to console you for what was lost; for in fact you gained everything and kept Isaac. Was it not so? The Lord never again took him from you, you sat happily at table with him in your tent, as you do in the hereafter in all eternity. Venerable Father Abraham! Thousands of years have slipped by since those days, but you need no late-coming lover to snatch your memory from the power of oblivion; for every mothertongue commemorates you — and still you reward your lover more gloriously than anyone. You make him blessed hereafter in your bosom, you captivate his eye and his heart in the here and now with the marvel of your deed. Venerable Father Abraham! Second father to the human race! You who first saw and bore witness to that tremendous passion that scorns the fearful struggle with the raging elements and the forces of creation in order to struggle with God instead, you who first knew that supreme passion, the sacred, pure, and humble expression of the divine madness which the pagans admired — forgive him who would speak in your praise if he did not do it correctly. He spoke humbly, seeing it is his heart's desire; he spoke briefly, as is fitting; but he will never forget that you needed a hundred years to get the son of your old age, against every expectation, that you had to draw the knife before keeping Isaac; he will never forget that in one hundred and thirty years you got no further than faith.

Problemata

Preamble from the Heart

An old proverb pertaining to the outward and visible world says: 'Only one who works gets bread.' Oddly enough, the saying doesn't apply in the world to which it most properly belongs, for the outward world is subject to the law of imperfection; there it happens time and again that one who gets bread is one who does not work, that one who sleeps gets it in greater abundance than one who labours. In the outward world everything belongs to whoever has it, the outward world is subject to the law of indifference and the genie of the ring obeys the one who wears it, whether he be a Noureddin or an Aladdin, and whoever holds the world's treasures does so however he came by them. It is otherwise in the world of spirit. Here there prevails an eternal divine order, here it does not rain on the just and the unjust alike, here the sun does not shine on both good and evil, here only one who works gets bread, and only one who knows anguish finds rest, only one who descends to the underworld saves the loved one, only one who draws the knife gets Isaac. He who will not work does not get bread, but will be deluded, as the gods deluded Orpheus with an airy figure in place of the beloved, deluded him because he was tender-hearted, not courageous, deluded him because he was a lyre-player, not a man.

Here it is no help to have Abraham as one's father, or seventeen centuries of noble ancestry; of anyone who will not work here one can say what is written about Israel's virgins, he gives birth to wind — while the one who works will give birth to his own father.

Conventional wisdom aims presumptuously to introduce into the world of spirit that same law of indifference under which the outside world groans. It believes it is enough to have knowledge of large truths. No other work is necessary. But then it does not get bread, it starves to death while everything is transformed into gold. And what else does it know? There were many thousands in the Greece of the time, countless others in later generations, who knew all the victories of Miltiades, but there was only one who lost sleep over them. There were countless generations that knew the story of Abraham by heart, word for word. How many did it make sleepless?

Now the story of Abraham has the remarkable quality that it will always be glorious no matter how impoverished our understanding of it, but only — for it is true here too — if we are willing to 'labour and be heavy laden'. But labour they will not, and yet they still want to understand the story. One speaks in Abraham's honour, but how? By making it a commonplace: 'his greatness was that he so loved God that he was willing to offer him the best he had.' That is very true, but 'best' is a vague expression. In word and thought one can quite safely identify Isaac with the best, and the man who so thinks can very well puff at his pipe as he does so, and the listener can very well leisurely stretch out his legs. If the rich young man whom Christ met on the road had sold all his possessions and given them to the poor, we would praise him as we praise all great deeds, but we would not understand even him without some labour. Yet he would not have become an Abraham even had he given away the best he had. What is left out of the Abraham story is the anguish; for while I am under no obligation to money, to a son the father has the highest and most sacred of obligations. Yet anguish is a dangerous affair for the squeamish, so people forget it, notwithstanding they want to talk about Abraham. So they talk and in the course of conversation they interchange the words 'Isaac' and 'best'. Everything goes excellently. Should someone in the audience be suffering from insomnia, however, there is likely to be the most appalling, most profound, tragi-comic misunderstanding. He goes home, he wants to do just like Abraham; for the son is certainly the best thing he has. Should that speaker hear word of this, he might go to the man, summon all his clerical authority, and shout: 'Loathsome man, dregs of society, what devil has so possessed you that you wanted to murder your own son?' And this priest, who had felt no signs of heat or perspiration while preaching about Abraham, would be surprised at the righteous wrath with which he fulminates against that poor man; he would be pleased with himself, for never had he spoken with such pungency and fervour before. He would say to himself, and his wife: 'I'm an orator, all I've needed was the opportunity; when I spoke about Abraham on Sunday I didn't feel at all carried away.' If the same speaker still had some slight excess of wit to spare he would surely lose it were the sinner to reply coolly and with dignity: 'It was in fact what you yourself preached on Sunday.' How could a priest get such an idea into his head? And yet he did so, and the mistake was only that he hadn't known what he was saying. Why doesn't some poet take up situations like these instead of the stuff and nonsense that fills comedies and novels? The comic and the tragic converge on each other here in absolute infinity. The priest's speech was no doubt laughable enough in itself, but became infinitely more so in its consequence, and yet that was quite natural. Or suppose the sinner had acceded without protest to the priest's reprimand; or that zealous cleric had gone happily home, happy in the knowledge that his effectiveness was not confined to the pulpit but was above all evident in the irresistible power of his ministry to souls, inspiring the congregation on Sunday while on Monday, like a cherub with flaming sword, confronting him who by his deed would put that old proverb to shame which says that the world never practises what the priest preaches.【1】

Should the sinner, on the other hand, not be convinced, his situation would be tragic enough. He would no doubt be executed or sent to the madhouse; in short he would have come into an unhappy relation to socalled reality, though in another sense I should think that Abraham made him happy: for he who labours does not perish.

What explains a contradiction like this speaker's? Is it because Abraham has acquired proprietary rights to the title of great man, so that whatever he does is great, and if anyone else does the same it is a sin, a crying sin? If so, I have no wish to take part in such mindless praise. If faith cannot make it into a holy deed to murder one's own son, then let the judgement fall on Abraham as on anyone else. If one hasn't the courage to think this thought through, to say that Abraham was a murderer, then surely it is better to acquire that courage than to waste time on undeserved speeches in his praise. The ethical expression for what Abraham did is that he was willing to murder Isaac; the religious expression is that he was willing to sacrifice Isaac; but in this contradiction lies the very anguish that can indeed make one sleepless; and yet without that anguish Abraham is not the one he is. Or perhaps Abraham simply didn't do what the story says, perhaps in the context of his times what he did was something quite different. Then let's forget him, for why bother remembering a past that cannot be made into a present? Or perhaps something to do with the ethical aspect slipped that speaker's mind, the fact that Isaac was the son. For if you simply remove faith as a nix and nought there remains only the raw fact that Abraham was willing to murder Isaac, which is easy enough for anyone without faith to imitate; without the faith, that is, which makes it hard.

For my own part I don't lack the courage to think a thought whole. No thought has frightened me so far. Should I ever come across one I hope I will at least have the honesty to say: 'This thought scares me, it stirs up something else in me so that I don't want to think it.' If that is wrong of me I'll no doubt get my punishment. If I had conceded the truth of the judgement that Abraham was a murderer, I am not sure that I would have been able to silence my reverence of him. But if that is what I myself thought, then I would presumably keep quiet, for thoughts like that are not to be intimated to others. However, Abraham is no illusion; he hasn't slept himself to fame; he does not owe his celebrity to any whim of fate.

Can one speak unreservedly of Abraham, then, without risking that someone will go off the rails and do likewise? Unless I dare to speak quite openly I will simply keep quiet about Abraham, and above all not diminish him so that by that very fact he becomes a snare for the weak. If one makes faith the main thing — that is, makes it what it is — then I imagine one might dare speak of it without that risk in this day of ours which can hardly be said to outdo itself in faith, and it is only in respect of faith that one achieves resemblance to Abraham, not murder. If one makes love into a fleeting mood, into a pleasurable agitation in a person, then one lays traps for the weak when talking of the achievements of love. Of course everyone has momentary feelings, but if those were to be used as reasons for doing the terrible things that love has hallowed as immortal deeds everything would be lost, both the achievement and those misled in this way.

It should be all right, then, to speak about Abraham. The great can never do harm when grasped in their greatness. It is like a two-edged sword, bringing death and salvation. If it should fall to my lot to speak of him, I would begin by showing what a devout and God-fearing man Abraham was, deserving to be called God's chosen. Only such a person is subjected to such a trial; but who is such a person? Next I would describe how Abraham loved Isaac. To that end I would beg the support of all good spirits in making my speech as fervent as is the love of a father for his son. I would hope to describe it in such a way that not many a father in the realm would dare maintain that he loved his son thus. Yet if he did not love as Abraham, all thought of offering Isaac would be a temptation. Here we already have plenty to speak of for several Sundays, so there is no need to rush. The result, if the speech does justice to the theme, will be that some fathers will simply not want to hear more, but be happy for the time being if they have really succeeded in loving as Abraham did. Should one of them after having caught the greatness of Abraham's deed, but also the appallingness of it, venture out on the road, I would saddle my horse and ride along with him. At every stop before we came to the mountain in Moriah I would explain to him that he could still turn back, could rue the misunderstanding that he was called to be tried in a conflict of this nature, could confess that he lacked the courage, so that if God wanted Isaac God must take him himself. It is my conviction that such a person will not be disavowed, but can be blessed along with all others, though not in time. Even in times of faith would such a person not be judged in this way? I knew someone who once could have saved my life had he possessed magnanimity. He said plainly: 'I see well enough what I could do, but I don't dare. I'm afraid that later I shall lack strength, that I shall regret it.' He was not magnanimous, but would anyone cease to love him on that account?

Having spoken thus, and moved my audience so that they appreciated at least something of the dialectical struggle of faith and its gigantic passion, I would not be guilty of the error they might impute to me by thinking: 'Well, he has faith in such a high degree it's enough for us just to hold on to his coat-tails.' For I would add: 'By no means have I faith. I am a shrewd fellow by nature, such as always have great difficulty making the movement of faith, though I wouldn't attach any importance in itself to a difficulty which, by overcoming it, brings a shrewd fellow no further than the most ordinary and simple-minded person has already reached without the difficulty.'

Love, after all, has its priests in the poets, and occasionally one hears a voice that knows how to keep it in shape; but about faith one hears not a word, who speaks in this passion's praises? Philosophy goes further. Theology sits all painted at the window courting philosophy's favour, offering philosophy its delights. It is said to be hard to understand Hegel, while understanding Abraham, why, that's a bagatelle. To go beyond Hegel, that is a miracle, but to go beyond Abraham is the simplest of all. I for my part have devoted considerable time to understanding the Hegelian philosophy, believe also that I have more or less understood it, am rash enough to believe that at those points where, despite the trouble taken, I cannot understand it, the reason is that Hegel himself hasn't been altogether clear. All this I do easily, naturally, without it causing me any mental strain. But when I have to think about Abraham I am virtually annihilated. I am all the time aware of that monstrous paradox that is the content of Abraham's life. I am constantly repulsed, and my thought, for all its passion, is unable to enter into it, cannot come one hairbreadth further. I strain every muscle to catch sight of it, but the same instant I become paralysed.

I am not unacquainted with what has been admired as great and magnanimous in the world; my soul feels an affinity with it, and is in all humility convinced that it was in my cause too that the hero strove; as I contemplate his striving I exclaim to myself: 'Jam tua res agitur' [Now it's your affair that's at stake]. The hero I can think myself into, but not Abraham; when I reach that height I fall down since what I'm offered is a paradox. Yet I by no means think that faith is therefore something inferior, on the contrary that it is the highest, at the same time believing it dishonest of philosophy to offer something else instead and to slight faith. Philosophy cannot and should not give us an account of faith, but should understand itself and know just what it has indeed to offer, without taking anything away, least of all cheating people out of something by making them think it is nothing. I am not unacquainted with life's needs and dangers, I do not fear them, and I go to meet them undaunted. I am not unfamiliar with horror, my memory is a faithful wife and my imagination, unlike myself, a diligent maid who sits quietly all day at her work and in the evening can speak so prettily for me that I just have to look at it even if it isn't always landscapes or flowers or pastoral idylls she paints. I have seen horror face to face, I do not flee it in fear but know very well that, however bravely I face it, my courage is not that of faith and not at all to be compared with it. I cannot close my eyes and hurl myself trustingly into the absurd, for me it is impossible, but I do not praise myself on that account. I am convinced that God is love; this thought has for me a pristine lyrical validity. When it is present to me I am unspeakably happy, when it is absent I yearn for it more intensely than the lover for the beloved; but I do not have faith; this courage I lack. God's love is for me, both in a direct and inverse sense, incommensurable with the whole of reality. I am not coward enough to whimper and moan on that account, but neither am I underhand enough to deny that faith is something far higher. I can very well carry on living in my manner, I am happy and satisfied, but my happiness is not that of faith and compared with that is indeed unhappy. I do not burden God with my petty cares, details don't concern me, I gaze only upon my love and keep its virginal flame pure and clear; faith is convinced that God troubles himself about the smallest thing. In this life I am content to be wedded to the left hand, faith is humble enough to demand the right; and that it is indeed humility I don't, and shall never, deny.

But I wonder whether all my contemporaries really are capable of making the movement of faith? Unless I am much mistaken they are more inclined to pride themselves for doing what they don't even think me capable of, i. e. the imperfect. It is against my nature to do what people so often do, talk inhumanly about the great as though some thousands of years were a huge distance; I prefer to talk about it humanly as though it happened yesterday and let only the greatness itself be the distance that either exalts or condemns. If — in the guise of tragic hero, for higher than that I cannot come — I were summoned to such an extraordinary royal progress as that to the mountain in Moriah I know very well what I would have done. I would not have been coward enough to stay at home, nor would I have rested on the way or dawdled, or forgotten the knife to create some delay; I am fairly certain I would have been there on the dot, with everything arranged — I might even have come too early instead, so as to have done with it quickly. But I also know what else I would have done. The moment I mounted the horse I would have said to myself: 'Now everything is lost, God demands Isaac, I sacrifice him, and with him all my joy — yet God is love and for me continues to be so.' For in the temporal world God and I cannot talk together, we have no common language. Perhaps someone or other in our time would be foolish enough, envious enough of the great, to want to suppose, and have me suppose, that had I actually done this I would have done something even greater than Abraham, for wouldn't my immense resignation be far more idealistic and poetic than Abraham's narrow-mindedness? And yet this is the greatest falsehood, for my immense resignation would be a substitute for faith. Nor could I have made more than the infinite movement in order to find myself again and rest once more in myself. Neither would I have loved Isaac as Abraham did. The fact that I made the movement resolutely might demonstrate my courage humanly speaking, that I loved him with all my soul is a precondition without which the whole affair becomes an act of wickedness, and yet I would not have loved as Abraham loved; for then I would have held back at the very last minute, though without this meaning that I'd arrive late at the mountain in Moriah. Further-more my behaviour would have vitiated the whole story, for I would have been at a loss had I got Isaac back again. What Abraham found the easiest of all would for me be hard, to find joy again in Isaac! For he who with all the infinity of his soul, proprio motu et propriis auspiciis [on his own accord and on his own responsibility], has made the infinite movement and can do no more, that person only keeps Isaac with pain.

But what did Abraham do? He came neither too early nor too late. He mounted the ass, he rode slowly down the path. All along he had faith, he believed that God would not demand Isaac of him, while still he was willing to offer him if that was indeed what was demanded. He believed on the strength of the absurd, for there could be no question of human calculation, and it was indeed absurd that God who demanded this of him should in the next instant withdraw the demand. He climbed the mountain, even in that moment when the knife gleamed he believed — that God would not demand Isaac. Certainly he was surprised by the outcome, but by means of a double movement he had come back to his original position and therefore received Isaac more joyfully than the first time. Let us go further. We let Isaac actually be sacrificed. Abraham had faith. His faith was not that he should be happy sometime in the hereafter, but that he should find blessed happiness here in this world. God could give him a new Isaac, bring the sacrificial offer back to life. He believed on the strength of the absurd, for all human calculation had long since been suspended. That sorrow can make one demented may be granted and is hard enough; that there is a strength of will that hauls close enough to the wind to save the understanding, even if the strain turns one slightly odd, that too may be granted. I don't mean to decry that. But to be able to lose one's understanding and with it the whole of the finite world whose stockbroker it is, and then on the strength of the absurd get exactly the same finitude back again, that leaves me aghast. But I don't say on that account that it is of little worth; on the contrary it is the one and only marvel. It is commonly supposed that what faith produces is no work of art but a crude and vulgar effort only for clumsier natures; yet the truth is quite otherwise. The dialectic of faith is the most refined and most remarkable of all dialectics, it has an elevation that I can form a conception of but no more. I can make the great trampoline leap in which I pass over into infinitude, my back is like the tight-rope walker's, twisted in my childhood, and so it is easy for me. One, two, three, I can go upside down in existence, but the next is beyond me, for the marvel I cannot perform but only be amazed at. Yes, if only Abraham, the instant he swung his leg over the ass's back, had said to himself: 'Now Isaac is lost, I could just as well sacrifice him here at home as journey the long road to Moriah' — then I wouldn't need Abraham, whereas now I bow to his name seven times and to his deed seventy. For that is not what he did, as I can prove by the fact that he received Isaac back with joy, really heartfelt joy, that he needed no preparation, no time to adjust himself to finitude and its joy. Had it not been thus with Abraham he may well have loved God, but he would not have had faith; for he who loves God without faith reflects on himself, while the person who loves God reflects on God.

At this extremity stands Abraham. The last stage he loses sight of is infinite resignation. He really does go further and comes to faith, for all these caricatures of faith, the pitiable, lukewarm apathy that thinks 'There's surely no need, it's not worth worrying before the time', the miserable hope that says 'Who knows what may happen, it's possible certainly' — these distortions belong to life's wretchedness, and these infinite resignation has already infinitely scorned.

Abraham I cannot understand; in a way all I can learn from him is to be amazed. If one imagines one can be moved to faith by considering the outcome of this story, one deceives oneself, and is out to cheat God of faith's first movement, one is out to suck the life-wisdom out of the paradox. One or another may succeed, for our age does not stop with faith, with its miracle of turning water into wine; it goes further, it turns wine into water.

Would it not be best all the same to stop with faith, and is it not disturbing that everyone wants to go further? When people nowadays — as is in fact variously announced — will not stop with love, where is it they are going? To worldly wisdom, petty calculation, to paltriness and misery, to all that can put man's divine origin in doubt? Would it not be better to remain standing at faith, and for the one who stands there to take care not to fall? For the movement of faith must be made continually on the strength of the absurd, though in such a way, be it noted, that one does not lose finitude but gains it all of a piece. I for my part can indeed describe the movements of faith, but I cannot perform them. When learning how to make swimming movements, one can hang in a belt from the ceiling; one may be said to describe the movements all fight but one isn't swimming; likewise I can describe the movements of faith but when I am thrown into the water, although I may be said to be swimming (for I'm not among the waders), I make other movements, I make the movements of infinity, while faith does the opposite, having performed the movements of infinity it makes those of finitude. Lucky the one who can make those movements, he performs a marvel, and I shall never tire of admiring him. Whether it is Abraham or the servant in Abraham's house, whether a professor of philosophy or a poor serving-maid is for me absolutely immaterial, I look only at the movements. But those I do indeed look at and let myself be fooled neither by myself nor by anyone else. The knights of infinite resignation are readily recognizable, their gait is gliding, bold. But those who wear the jewel of faith can easily disappoint, for their exterior bears a remarkable similarity to what infinite resignation itself as much as faith scorns, namely the bourgeois philistine.

In my own experience I frankly admit to having found no reliable examples, though I would not deny on that ground that possibly every other person is one. Still, I have tried now in vain for several years to track one down. People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something. I am not concerned with this. But if I knew where such a knight of faith lived I would journey to him on foot, for this marvel concerns me absolutely. I would not let him slip one instant, but watch every minute how he makes the movements; I would consider myself maintained for life and divide my time between looking at him and practising the movements myself, thus devoting all my time to admiring him. As I said, I haven't found such a one; still, I can very well imagine him. Here he is. The acquaintance is struck, I am introduced. The moment I first set eyes on him I thrust him away, jump back, clasp my hands together and say half aloud: 'Good God! Is this the person, is it really him? He looks just like a tax-gatherer.' Yet it is indeed him. I come a little closer, watch the least movement in case some small, incongruous optical telegraphic message from the infinite should appear, a glance, expression, gesture, a sadness, a smile betraying the infinite by its incongruity with the finite. No! I examine him from top to toe, in case there should be some crack through which the infinite peeped out. No! He is solid through and through. His stance? Vigorous, it belongs altogether to finitude, no smartly turned-out townsman taking a stroll out to Fresberg on a Sunday afternoon treads the ground with surer foot; he belongs altogether to the world, no petit bourgeois belongs to it more. One detects nothing of the strangeness and superiority that mark the knight of the infinite. This man takes pleasure, takes part, in everything, and whenever one catches him occupied with something his engagement has the persistence of the worldly person whose soul is wrapped up in such things. He minds his affairs. To see him at them you would think he was some pen-pusher who had lost his soul to Italian book-keeping, so attentive to detail is he. He takes a holiday on Sundays. He goes to church. No heavenly glance or any other sign of the incommensurable betrays him; if one didn't know him it would be impossible to set him apart from the rest of the crowd; for at most his hearty, lusty psalm-singing proves that he has a good set of lungs. In the afternoon he takes a walk in the woods. He delights in everything he sees, in the thronging humanity, the new omnibuses, the Sound — to run across him on Strandveien you would think he was a shop-keeper having his fling, such is his way of taking pleasure; for he is not a poet and I have sought in vain to prise out of him the secret of any poetic incommensurability. Towards evening he goes home, his step tireless as a postman's. On the way it occurs to him that his wife will surely have some special little warm dish for his return, for example roast head of lamb with vegetables. If he were to meet a kindred spirit, he could continue as far as Østerport so as to converse with him about this dish with a passion befitting a restaurateur. As it happens he hasn't a penny and yet he firmly believes his wife has that delicacy waiting for him. If she has, to see him eat it would be a sight for superior people to envy and for plain folk to be inspired by, for his appetite is greater than Esau's. If his wife doesn't have the dish, curiously enough he is exactly the same. On the road he passes a buildingsite and meets another man. They talk together for a moment, he has a building raised in a jiffy, having all that's needed for that. The stranger leaves him thinking: 'That must have been a capitalist,' while my admirable knight thinks: 'Yes, if it came to that I could surely manage it.' He takes his ease at an open window and looks down on the square where he lives, at everything that goes on — a rat slipping under a board over the gutter, the children at play — with a composure befitting a sixteen-year-old girl. And yet he is no genius; I have tried in vain to spy out in him the incommensurability of the genius. He smokes his pipe in the evening: to see him you would swear it was the cheesemonger opposite vegetating in the dusk. Carefree as a devil-may-care good-for-nothing, he hasn't a worry in the world, and yet he purchases every moment that he lives, 'redeeming the seasonable time' at the dearest price; not the least thing does he do except on the strength of the absurd. And yet, and yet — yes, it could drive me to fury, out of envy if for no other reason — and yet this man has made and is at every moment making the movement of infinity. He drains in infinite resignation the deep sorrow of existence, he knows the bliss of infinity, he has felt the pain of renouncing everything, whatever is most precious in the world, and yet to him finitude tastes just as good as to one Who has never known anything higher, for his remaining in the finite bore no trace of a stunted, anxious training, and still he has this sense of being secure to take pleasure in it, as though it were the most certain thing of all. And yet, and yet the whole earthly form he presents is a new creation on the strength of the absurd. He resigned everything infinitely, and then took everything back on the strength of the absurd. He is continually making the movement of infinity, but he makes it with such accuracy and poise that he is continually getting finitude out of it, and not for a second would one suspect anything else. It is said that the dancer's hardest task is to leap straight into a definite position, so that not for a second does he have to catch at the position but stands there in it in the leap itself. Perhaps no dancer can do it — but that knight does it. The mass of humans live disheartened lives of earthly sorrow and joy, these are the sitters-out who will not join in the dance. The knights of infinity are dancers too and they have elevation. They make the upward movement and fall down again, and this too is no unhappy pastime, nor ungracious to behold. But when they come down they cannot assume the position straightaway, they waver an instant and the wavering shows they are nevertheless strangers in the world. This may be more or less evident, depending on their skill, but even the most skilled of these knights cannot hide the vacillation. One doesn't need to see them in the air, one only has to see them the moment they come and have come to earth to recognize them. But to be able to land in just that way, and in the same second to look as though one was up and walking, to transform the leap in life to a gait, to express the sublime in the pedestrian absolutely — that is something only the knight of faith can do — and it is the one and only marvel.

Yet this marvel can so easily deceive. I will therefore describe the movements in a particular case which can illustrate the respective relationships to reality, for it is these that everything turns on. A young lad falls in love with a princess, the content of his whole life lies in this love, and yet the relationship is one that cannot possibly be brought to fruition, be translated from ideality into reality.【2】 The slaves of misery, the frogs in life's swamp, naturally exclaim: 'Such love is foolishness; the rich brewer's widow is just as good and sound a match.' Let them croak away undisturbed in the swamp. This is not the manner of the knight of infinite resignation, he does not renounce the love, not for all the glory in the world. He is no trifler. He first makes sure that this really is the content of his life, and his soul is too healthy and proud to squander the least thing on getting drunk. He is not cowardly, he is not afraid to let his love steal in upon his most secret, most hidden thoughts, to let it twine itself in countless coils around every ligament of his consciousness — if the love becomes unhappy he will never be able to wrench himself out of it. He feels a blissful rapture when he lets it tingle through every nerve, and yet his soul is as solemn as his who has emptied the cup of poison and feels the juice penetrate to every drop of blood — for this moment is life and death. Having thus imbibed all the love and absorbed himself in it, he does not lack the courage to attempt and risk everything. He reflects over his life's circumstances, he summons the swift thoughts that like trained doves obey his every signal, he waves his rod over them, and they rush off in all directions. But now when they all return as messengers of sorrow and explain to him that it is an impossibility, he becomes quiet, he dismisses them, he remains alone, and he performs the movement. If what I say here has any meaning the movement must take place properly.【3】 For the knight will then, in the first place, have the strength to concentrate the whole of his life's content and the meaning of reality in a single wish. If a person lacks this concentration, this focus, his soul is disintegrated from the start, and then he will never come to make the movement, he will act prudently in life like those capitalists who invest their capital in every kind of security so as to gain on the one what they lose on the other — in short, he is not a knight. Secondly, the knight will have the strength to concentrate the whole of the result of his reflection into one act of consciousness. If he lacks this focus his soul is disintegrated from the start and he will then never have time to make the movement, he will be forever running errands in life, never enter the eternal; for at the very moment he is almost there he will suddenly discover that he has forgotten something and so must go back. The next moment he will think it possible, and that is also quite correct; but through such considerations one never comes to make the movement; rather with their help one sinks ever deeper into the mire.

So the knight makes the movement, but what movement? Does he want to forget the whole thing? Because in that too there is a kind of concentration. No! for the knight does not contradict himself, and it is a contradiction to forget the whole of one's life's content and still be the same. He has no inclination to become another, seeing nothing at all great in that prospect. Only lower natures forget themselves and become something new. Thus the butterfly has altogether forgotten that it was a caterpillar, perhaps it can so completely forget in turn that it was a butterfly that it can become a fish. Deeper natures never forget themselves and never become something other than they were. So the knight will remember everything; but the memory is precisely the pain, and yet in his infinite resignation he is reconciled with existence. His love for the princess would take on for him the expression of an eternal love, would acquire a religious character, be transfigured into a love for the eternal being which, although it denied fulfilment, still reconciled him once more in the eternal consciousness of his love's validity in an eternal form that no reality can take from him. Fools and young people talk about everything being possible for a human being. But that is a great mistake. Everything is possible spiritually speaking, but in the finite world there is much that is not possible. This impossibility the knight nevertheless makes possible by his expressing it spiritually, but he expresses it spiritually by renouncing it. The desire which would convey him out into reality, but came to grief on an impossibility, now bends inwards but is not lost thereby nor forgotten. At times it is the unconscious workings of the desire in him which awaken the memory, at others it is he himself that awakens it, for he is too proud to want to let the whole content of his life seem to have been but a fleeting affair of the moment. He keeps this love young, and it grows with him in years and beauty. On the other hand, he needs no finite occasion for its growth. From the moment he made the movement the princess is lost. He needs none of this erotic titillation of the nerves at the sight of the loved one, etc., nor does he need in a finite sense to be continually making his farewell, for his memory of her is an eternal one, and he knows very well that those lovers who are so eager to see one another one more time to say farewell are right to be eager, right to think it will be the last time; for as soon as may be they will have forgotten one another. He has grasped the deep secret that even in loving another one should be sufficient unto oneself. He pays no further finite attention to what the princess does, and just this proves that he has made the movement infinitely. Here we have the opportunity to see whether the movement in the individual is proper or not. There was a person who also believed he had made the movement, but time went by, the princess did something else, she married, say, a prince, and his soul lost the resilience of resignation. He knew then that he had not made the movement correctly; for one who has infinitely resigned is enough unto himself. The knight does not cancel his resignation, he keeps it, just as young as in the first instance, he never lets it go, simply because he has made the movement infinitely. What the princess does cannot disturb him, it is only lower natures who have the law for their actions in someone else, the premisses for their actions outside themselves. If, on the other hand, the princess is similarly disposed there will be a beautiful development. She will then introduce herself into that order of knighthood whose members are not admitted by ballot but which anyone can join who has the courage to admit him- or herself, that order of knighthood which proves its immortality by making no distinction between man and woman. She too will keep her love young and sound, she too will have overcome her agony, even though she does not, as the song says, 'lie by her lord's side'. These two will then be suited to each other in all eternity, with such a strict-tempoed harmonia praestabilita [pre-established harmony] that were some moment to come, a moment with which they were nevertheless not concerned finitely, for in the finite world they would grow old — were such a moment to come which allowed their love its expression in time, then they would be in a position to begin precisely where they would have begun had they been united from the beginning. The one, whether man or woman, who understands this can never be deceived, for it is only lower natures who imagine they are deceived. No girl who lacks this pride really knows what it is to love, but if she is so proud, then all the world's stratagems and ingenuity cannot deceive her.

In infinite resignation there is peace and repose; anyone who wants it, who has not debased himself by — what is still worse than being too proud — belittling himself, can discipline himself into making this movement, which in its pain reconciles one to existence. Infinite resignation is that shirt in the old fable. The thread is spun with tears, bleached by tears, the shirt sewn in tears, but then it also gives better protection than iron and steel. A defect of the fable is that a third party is able to make the material. The secret in life is that everyone must sew it for himself; and the remarkable thing is that a man can sew it just as well as a woman. In infinite resignation there is peace and repose and consolation in the pain, that is if the movement is made properly. I could easily fill a whole book with the various misunderstandings, awkward positions, and slovenly movements I have encountered in just my own slight experience. People believe very little in spirit, yet it is precisely spirit that is needed to make this movement; what matters is its not being a one-sided result of dira necessitas; the more it is that the more doubtful it always is that the movement is proper. To insist that a frigid, sterile necessity is necessarily present is to say that no one may experience death before actually dying, which strikes me as crass materialism. Yet in our time people are less concerned with making pure movements. Suppose someone wanting to learn to dance said: 'For hundreds of years now one generation after another has been learning dance steps, it's high time I took advantage of this and began straight off with a set of quadrilles.' One would surely laugh a little at him; but in the world of spirit such an attitude is considered utterly plausible. What then is education? I had thought it was the curriculum the individual ran through in order to catch up with himself; and anyone who does not want to go through this curriculum will be little helped by being born into the most enlightened age.

Infinite resignation is the last stage before faith, so that anyone who has not made this movement does not have faith; for only in infinite resignation does my eternal validity become transparent to me, and only then can there be talk of grasping existence on the strength of faith.

Let us now have the knight of faith make his appearance in the case discussed. He does exactly the same as the other knight, he infinitely renounces the claim to the love which is the content of his life; he is reconciled in pain; but then comes the marvel, he makes one more movement, more wonderful than anything else, for he says: 'I nevertheless believe that I shall get her, namely on the strength of the absurd, on the strength of the fact that for God all things are possible.' The absurd is not one distinction among others embraced by understanding. It is not the same as the improbable, the unexpected, the unforeseen. The moment the knight resigned he was convinced of the impossibility, humanly speaking; that was a conclusion of the understanding, and he had energy enough to think it. In an infinite sense, however, it was possible, through renouncing it [as a finite possibility]; but then accepting that [possibility] is at the same time to have given it up, yet for the understanding there is no absurdity in possessing it, for it is only in the finite world that understanding rules and there it was and remains an impossibility. On this the knight of faith is just as clear; all that can save him is the absurd; and this he grasps by faith. Accordingly he admits the impossibility and at the same time believes the absurd; for were he to suppose that he had faith without recognizing the impossibility with all the passion of his soul and with all his heart, he would be deceiving himself, and his testimony would carry weight nowhere, since he would not even have come as far as infinite resignation.

Faith is therefore no aesthetic emotion, but something far higher, exactly because it presupposes resignation; it is not the immediate inclination of the heart but the paradox of existence. Thus that a young girl in the face of all difficulties rests assured that her desire will be fulfilled in no way means that her certainty is that of faith, even if she has been brought up by Christian parents and perhaps gone for a whole year to the pastor. She is convinced in all her childlike simplicity and innocence. This assurance too ennobles her nature and gives her a preternatural dimension, so that like a worker of wonders she can charm the finite powers of existence and make even stones weep, while on the other hand in her distraction she can just as well run to Herod as to Pilate and move the whole world with her pleas. Her conviction is ever so lovable, and one can learn much from her, but one thing one does not learn from her, how to make movements. Her certainty does not dare look the impossibility in the eye in the pain of resignation.

I can see then that it requires strength and energy and freedom of spirit to make the infinite movement of resignation; I can also see that it can be done. The next step dumbfounds me, my brain reels; for having made the movement of resignation, now on the strength of the absurd to get everything, to get one's desire, whole, in full, that requires more-than-human powers, it is a marvel. But at least I can see this, that the young girl's conviction is mere frivolity compared with a faith that is unshakeable even when it sees the impossibility. Whenever I want to make this movement I turn giddy, at the same moment I admire it absolutely and yet in that same instant an immense anxiety seizes my soul, for what is it to test God? And yet this is the movement of faith and remains that, however much philosophy, in order to confuse concepts, will have us suppose that it has faith, however much theology wants to sell it at a bargain price.

Resignation does not require faith, for what I win in resignation is my eternal consciousness, and that is a purely philosophical movement, which I venture upon when necessary, and which I can discipline myself into doing, for every time something finite out-distances me I starve myself until I make the movement; for my eternal consciousness is my love of God, and for me that is higher than anything. Resignation does not require faith, but it requires faith to get the slightest more than my eternal consciousness, for that [more] is the paradox. The movements are often confused. It is said that faith is needed in order to renounce everything; yes, even more strangely one hears people complain that they have lost faith and on consulting the scale to see where they are, we find curiously enough that they have come no further than the point where they should be making the infinite movement of resignation. Through resignation I renounce everything, this movement is one I do by myself, and when I do not do it that is because I am cowardly and weak and lack the enthusiasm and have no sense of the importance of the high dignity afforded to every human being, to be his own censor, a dignity greater by far than to be Censor General for the whole Roman Republic. This movement is one that I make by myself, so what I win is myself in my eternal consciousness, in a blessed compliance with my love for the eternal being. Through faith I don't renounce anything, on the contrary in faith I receive everything, exactly in the way it is said what one whose faith is like a mustard seed can move mountains. It takes a purely human courage to renounce the whole of temporality in order to win eternity, but I do indeed win it and cannot in all eternity renounce that, for that would be a self-contradiction; but it takes a paradoxical and humble courage then to grasp the whole of temporality on the strength of the absurd, and that courage is the courage of faith. Through faith Abraham did not renounce his claim on Isaac, through his faith he received Isaac. That rich young man, by virtue of his resignation, should have given everything away, but once he had done so the knight of faith would have to say to him: 'On the strength of the absurd you shall get every penny back, believe that!' And these words should by no means be a matter of indifference to the once rich young man; for if he gave his possessions away because he was bored with them, then his resignation was in a sorry state.

Temporality, finitude is what it all turns on. I am able by my own strength to renounce everything, and then find peace and repose in the pain; I can put up with everything even if that demon, more horrifying than the skull and bones that put terror into men's hearts — even if madness itself were to hold up the fool's costume before my eyes and I could tell from its look that it was I who was to put it on; I can still save my soul so long as it is more important for me that my love of God should triumph in me than my worldly happiness. A man can still, in that last moment, concentrate his whole soul in a single glance towards the heaven from which all good gifts come, and this glance is something both he and the one he seeks understand; it means he has nevertheless remained true to his love. Then he will calmly put on the costume. He who lacks this romanticism has sold his soul, whether he received a kingdom for it or a paltry piece of silver. But by my own strength I cannot get the least little thing of what belongs to finitude; for I am continually using my energy to renounce everything. By my own strength I can give up the princess, and I shall be no sulker but find joy and peace and repose in my pain, but with my own strength I cannot get her back again, for all that strength is precisely what I use to renounce my claim on her. But by faith, says that marvellous knight, by faith you will get her on the strength of the absurd.

Alas, this movement is one I cannot make! As soon as I want to begin it everything turns around and I flee back to the pain of resignation. I can swim in life, but for this mysterious floating I am too heavy. To exist in such a way that my opposition to existence expresses itself every instant as the most beautiful and safest harmony, that I cannot. And yet it must be glorious to get the princess, I say so every instant and the knight of resignation who doesn't say it is a deceiver, he has not had just one desire and he has not kept his desire young in its pain. Some might find it convenient enough that the desire is no longer alive, that the smart of pain has dulled; but such people are no knights. A free-born soul who caught himself at this would despise himself and make a fresh start, and above all not allow himself to be deceived in his soul. And yet it must be wonderful to get the princess, and yet it is only the knight of faith who is happy, only he is heir apparent to the finite, whereas the knight of resignation is a stranger, a foreigner. To get the princess in this way, to live in joy and happiness, in her company day in and day out — we have to allow, of course, that the knight of resignation, too, may get the princess, even though he has clearly perceived the impossibility of their future happiness — thus to live joyfully and happily in this way every moment on the strength of the absurd, every moment to see the sword hanging over the loved one's head and yet find, not repose in the pain of resignation, but joy on the strength of the absurd — that is wonderful. The one who does that, he is great, the only great one, the thought of it stirs my soul, which was never sparing in its admiration of greatness.

Now if everyone in my generation unwilling to stop at faith is really someone who has understood life's horror, has grasped Daub's meaning when he says that a soldier standing guard alone with a loaded gun by a powder magazine on a stormy night gets strange thoughts; if all those unwilling to stop at faith really are people who possess the strength of soul to grasp, and give themselves time to be alone with, the thought that what they wished was impossible; if all who are unwilling to stop at faith have really reconciled themselves in pain and been reconciled by pain; if all those unwilling to stop at faith have in addition (and unless they have done all this other they need not trouble themselves in matters of faith) performed that marvel, grasped the whole of existence on the strength of the absurd — then what I am writing is a speech in the highest praise of my generation by the least in it, by the one who could only make the movement of resignation. But why will they not stop at faith, why do we sometimes hear of people blushing to admit they have faith? That I cannot grasp. Should I ever come so far as to manage this movement, I'd drive thereafter with a coach-and-four.

Is it really the case, can all the bourgeois philistinism I see in life, and which I allow only my deeds and not my words to condemn, really be not what it seems? Is it really this marvel? That is certainly conceivable, for our hero of faith did indeed bear a striking resemblance to it, for our hero of faith was not even an ironist and humorist but something still higher. A lot is said in our time about irony and humour, particularly by people who have never succeeded in practising them but who nevertheless know how to explain everything. I am not altogether unfamiliar with these two passions, I know a little more about them than is to be found in German and German-Danish compendia. Therefore I know that these two passions differ essentially from the passion of faith. Irony and humour reflect also upon themselves and so belong in the sphere of infinite resignation, they owe their resilience to the individual's incommensurability with reality.

The last movement, the paradoxical movement of faith I cannot perform, be it a duty or whatever — though in fact I would be most willing to do it. Whether anyone has the right to say this must be up to him; it is a matter between him and the eternal being who is the object of faith whether he can reach an amicable agreement in this respect. What everyone can do, on the other hand, is perform the infinite movement of resignation, and I for my part would not think twice about pronouncing anyone a coward who thinks he can't. With faith it is another matter. But what no one has the right to do is let others suppose that faith is something inferior or that it is an easy matter, when in fact it is the greatest and most difficult of all.

Some understand the story of Abraham in another way. They praise God's mercy for giving him Isaac once again, the whole thing was just a trial. A trial — that can say a lot or little, yet the whole thing is as quickly done with as said. One mounts a winged horse, that very instant one is on the mountain in Moriah, the same instant one sees the ram. One forgets that Abraham rode on an ass, which can keep up no more than a leisurely pace, that he had a three-day journey, that he needed time to chop the firewood, bind Isaac, and sharpen the knife.

And yet one praises Abraham! The speaker might just as well sleep until fifteen minutes before speaking, his hearer might just as well sleep throughout the speech, since it all goes so smoothly, without trouble from either side. Should someone present be suffering from insomnia, that person might go home, sit down in a corner, and think: 'It's all over in a second, if you'll just wait a minute you'll see the ram and the trial is over.' Were the speaker to meet him in that state then I imagine he would advance on him in all his dignity and say: 'Wretch, that you can let your soul sink into such folly; there is no miracle, and all life is a trial.' The more effusive the speaker became the more heated he would grow and the better pleased with himself, and while he had noticed no congestion of the blood when speaking about Abraham, he could now feel the vein swelling on his forehead. He might perhaps be struck dumb were the sinner, calmly and with dignity, to reply: 'But that's what you preached last Sunday.'

So let us either forget all about Abraham or learn how to be horrified at the monstrous paradox which is the significance of his life, so that we can understand that our time like any other can be glad. if it has faith. If Abraham is not a nonentity, a ghost, a piece of pomp one uses to pass time away, the mistake can never lie in the sinner's wanting to do like him; rather it is a question of seeing the greatness of Abraham's deed, so that the person may judge for himself whether he has the inclination and courage to be tried in such a thing. The comic contradiction in the speaker's behaviour was that he made Abraham into something insignificant and yet would forbid the other from carrying on in the same manner.

Should one perhaps not dare to speak about Abraham? I think one should. If I myself were to talk about him I would first depict the pain of the trial. For that I would suck all the fear, distress, and torment out of the father's suffering, like a leech, in order to be able to describe all that Abraham suffered while still believing. I would remind people that the journey lasted three days and well into the fourth; yes, those three-and-a-half days should be infinitely longer than the two thousand years separating me from Abraham. Then I would remind them that everyone, as I believe, should feel able to change their mind before beginning on such a thing, that it is possible at every moment to retract and turn back. If one does this I see no danger; nor am I afraid of arousing a desire in people to be put to the test like Abraham. But if one wants to market a cut-price version of Abraham and then still admonish people not to do what Abraham did, then that's just laughable.

What I intend now is to extract from the story of Abraham its dialectical element, in the form of problemata, in order to see how monstrous a paradox faith is, a paradox capable of making a murder into a holy act well pleasing to God, a paradox which gives Isaac back to Abraham, which no thought can grasp because faith begins precisely where thinking leaves off.

Problema Ⅰ

Is There a Teleological Suspension of the Ethical?

The ethical as such is the universal, and as the universal it applies to everyone, which can be put from another point of view by saying that it applies at every moment. It rests immanently in itself, has nothing outside itself that is its telos [end, purpose] but is itself the telos for everything outside, and when that is taken up into it, it has no further to go. Seen as an immediate, no more than sensate and psychic, being, the single individual is the particular that has its telos in the universal, and the individual's ethical task is always to express himself in this, to abrogate his particularity so as to become the universal. As Soon as the single individual wants to assert himself in his particularity, in direct opposition to the universal, he sins, and only by recognizing this can he again reconcile himself with the universal. Whenever, having entered the universal, the single individual feels an urge to assert his particularity, he is in a state of temptation, from which he can extricate himself only by surrendering his particularity to the universal in repentance. If that is the highest that can be said of man and his existence, then the ethical and a person's eternal blessedness, which is his telos in all eternity and at every moment, are identical; for in that case it would be a contradiction to say that one surrendered that telos (i. e. suspended it teleologically) since by suspending the telos one would be forfeiting it, while what is said to be suspended in this sense is not forfeited but preserved in something higher, the latter being precisely its telos.

If that is the case, then Hegel is fight in his 'Good and Conscience' where he discusses man seen merely as the single individual and regards this way of seeing him as a 'moral form of evil" to be annulled in the teleology of the ethical life, so that the individual who stays at this stage is either in sin or in a state of temptation. Where Hegel goes wrong, on the other hand, is in talking about faith, in not protesting loudly and clearly against the honour and glory enjoyed by Abraham as the father of faith when he should really be remitted to some lower court for trial and exposed as a murderer.

For faith is just this paradox, that the single individual is higher than the universal, though in such a way, be it noted, that the movement is repeated, that is, that, having been in the universal, the single individual now sets himself apart as the particular above the universal. If that is not faith, then Abraham is done for and faith has never existed in the world, just because it has always existed. For if the ethical life is the highest and nothing incommensurable is left over in man, except in the sense of what is evil, i.e. the single individual who is to be expressed in the universal, then one needs no other categories than those of the Greek philosophers, or whatever can be logically deduced from them. This is something Hegel, who has after all made some study of the Greeks, ought not to have kept quiet about.

One not infrequently hears people who prefer to lose themselves in clichés rather than studies say that light shines over the Christian world, while paganism is shrouded in darkness. This kind of talk has always struck me as strange, since any reasonably deep thinker, any reasonably serious artist will still seek rejuvenation in the eternal youth of the Greeks. The explanation may be that they know not what to say, only that they have to say something. There is nothing wrong with saying that paganism did not have faith, but if this is to mean anything one must be a little clearer what one means by faith, otherwise one falls back into those clichés. It is easy to explain the whole of existence, faith included, and he is not the worst reckoner in life who counts on being admired for having such an explanation: for it is as Boileau says: 'un sot trouve toujours un plus sot, qui l'admire' ['a fool can always find a greater fool who admires him'].

Faith is just this paradox, that the single individual as the particular is higher than the universal, is justified before the latter, not as subordinate but superior, though in such a way, be it noted, that it is the single individual who, having been subordinate to the universal as the particular, now by means of the universal becomes that individual who, as the particular, stands in an absolute relation to the absolute. This position cannot be mediated, for all mediation occurs precisely by virtue of the universal; it is and remains in all eternity a paradox, inaccessible to thought. And yet faith is this paradox. Or else (these are implications which I would ask the reader always to bear in mind, though it would be too complicated for me to spell them out each time) — or else faith has never existed just because it has always existed. And Abraham is done for.

That the individual can easily take this paradox for a temptation is true enough. But one should not keep it quiet on that account. True enough, too, that many people may have a natural aversion to the paradox, but that is no reason for making faith into something else so that they too can have it; while those who do have faith should be prepared to offer some criterion for distinguishing the paradox from a temptation.

Now the story of Abraham contains just such a teleological suspension of the ethical. There has been no want of sharp intellects and sound scholars who have found analogies to it. Their wisdom amounts to the splendid principle that basically everything is the same. If one looks a little closer I doubt very much whether one will find in the whole world a single analogy, except a later one that proves nothing, for the fact remains that Abraham represents faith, and that faith finds its proper expression in him whose life is not only the most paradoxical conceivable, but so paradoxical that it simply cannot be thought. He acts on the strength of the absurd; for it is precisely the absurd that as the single individual he is higher than the universal. This paradox cannot be mediated; for as soon as he tries Abraham will have to admit that he is in a state of temptation, and in that case he will never sacrifice Isaac, or if he has done so he must return repentantly to the universal. On the strength of the absurd he got Isaac back. Abraham is therefore at no instant the tragic hero, but something quite different, either a murderer or a man of faith. The middle-term that saves the tragic hero is something Abraham lacks. That is why I can understand a tragic hero, but not Abraham, even though in a certain lunatic sense I admire him more than all others.

Abraham's relation to Isaac, ethically speaking, is quite simply this, that the father should love the son more than himself. Yet within its own compass the ethical has several rankings; let us see whether this story contains any such higher expression of the ethical which might explain his behaviour ethically, justify him ethically for suspending the ethical duty to the son, yet without thereby exceeding the ethical's own teleology.

When an enterprise involving a whole nation is prevented, when such an enterprise is brought to a halt by heaven's disfavour, when divine wrath sends a dead calm which mocks every effort, when the soothsayer performs his sad task and proclaims that the deity demands a young girl as a sacrifice — then it is with heroism that the father has to make that sacrifice. Nobly will he hide his grief though he could wish he were 'the lowly man who dares to weep' and not the king who must bear himself as befits a king. And however solitarily the pain enters his breast, for he has only three confidants among his people, soon the entire population will be privy to his pain, but also to his deed, to the fact that for the well-being of the whole he was willing to offer that girl, his daughter, this lovely young maiden. Oh, what bosom! What fair cheeks! What flaxen hair! And the daughter will touch him with her tears, and the father avert his face, but the hero will raise the knife. And when the news of this reaches the ancestral home all the beauteous maidens of Greece will blush with animation, and were the daughter a bride the betrothed would not be angered but proud to have been party to the father's deed, because the maiden belonged to him more tenderly than to the father.

When that bold judge, who saved Israel in the hour of need binds God and himself in one breath with the same promise, then it is with heroism that he is to transform the young girl's jubilation, the beloved daughter's joy, to sorrow, and all Israel will grieve with her maidenly youth; but every free-born man will understand Jephthah, every stout-hearted woman admire him, and every maiden in Israel will want to do as his daughter; for what good would it be for Jephthah to triumph by making his promise but fail to keep it? Would the victory not be taken once more from the people?

When a son forgets his duty, when the State entrusts the father with the sword of judgement, when the laws demand punishment at the father's hand, then it is with heroism that the father must forget that the guilty one is his son. Nobly will he hide his pain, but in the nation there will be not one, not even the son, who fails to admire the father, and every time the laws of Rome are interpreted it will be recalled that many interpreted them more learnedly but none more gloriously than Brutus.

On the other hand, if it had been while his fleet was being borne by wind under full sail to its destination that Agamemnon had sent that messenger who brought Iphigenia to the sacrifice; if unbound by any promise that would decide the fate of his people Jephthah had said to his daughter: 'Sorrow now for two months henceforth over the short day of your youth, for I shall sacrifice you'; if Brutus had had a righteous son and still called upon the lictors to execute him — who would understand them? If to the question, why did you do it?, these three had replied: 'It is a trial in which we are being tested', would one then have understood them better?

When at the decisive moment Agamemnon, Jephthah, and Brutus heroically overcome their pain, have heroically given up the loved one, and have only the outward deed to perform, then never a noble soul in the world will there be but sheds tears of sympathy for their pain, tears of admiration for their deed. But if at that decisive moment these three men had added to the heroism with which they bore their pain the little words 'It won't happen', who then would understand them? If in explanation they added: 'We believe it on the strength of the absurd', who then would understand them better? For who would not readily understand that it was absurd? But who would understand that for that reason one could believe it?

The difference between the tragic hero and Abraham is obvious enough. The tragic hero stays within the ethical. He lets an expression of the ethical have its telos in a higher expression of the ethical; he reduces the ethical relation between father and son, or daughter and father, to a sentiment that has its dialectic in its relation to the idea of the ethical life. Here, then, there can be no question of a teleological suspension of the ethical itself.

With Abraham it is different. In his action he overstepped the ethical altogether, and had a higher telos outside it, in relation to which he suspended it. For how could one ever bring Abraham's action into relationship with the universal? How could any point of contact ever be discovered between what Abraham did and the universal other than that Abraham overstepped it? It is not to save a nation, not to uphold the idea of the State, that Abraham did it, not to appease angry gods. If there was any question of the deity's being angry, it could only have been Abraham he was angry with, and Abraham's whole action stands in no relation to the universal, it is a purely private undertaking. While, then, the tragic hero is great through his deed's being an expression of the ethical life, Abraham is great through an act of purely personal virtue. There is no higher expression of the ethical in Abraham's life than that the father shall love the son. The ethical in the sense of the ethical life is quite out of the question. In so far as the universal was there at all it was latent in Isaac, concealed as it were in his loins, and it would have to cry out with Isaac's mouth: 'Don't do it, you are destroying everything.'

Then why does Abraham do it? For God's sake, and what is exactly the same, for his own. He does it for the sake of God because God demands this proof of his faith; he does it for his own sake in order to be able to produce the proof. The unity here is quite properly expressed in the saying in which this relationship has always been described: it is a trial, a temptation. A temptation, but what does that mean? What we usually call a temptation is something that keeps a person from carrying out a duty, but here the temptation is the ethical itself which would keep him from doing God's will. But then what is the duty? For the duty is precisely the expression of God's will.

Here we see the need for a new category for understanding Abraham. Such a relationship to the divine is unknown to paganism. The tragic hero enters into no private relationship with God, but the ethical is the divine and therefore the paradox in the divine can be mediated in the universal.

Abraham cannot be mediated, which can also be put by saying he cannot speak. The moment I speak I express the universal, and when I do not no one can understand me. So the moment Abraham wants to express himself in the universal, he has to say that his situation is one of temptation, for he has no higher expression of the universal that overrides the universal he transgresses.

Thus while Abraham arouses my admiration, he also appals me. The person who denies himself and sacrifices himself for duty gives up the finite in order to grasp on to the infinite; he is secure enough. The tragic hero gives up what is certain for what is still more certain, and the eye of the beholder rests confidently upon him. But the person who gives up the universal to grasp something still higher that is not the universal, what does he do? Can this be anything but temptation? And if it were something else but the individual were mistaken, what salvation is there for him? He suffers all the pain of the tragic hero, he brings all his joy in the world to nothing, he abandons everything, and perhaps the same instant debars himself from that exalted joy so precious to him that he would buy it at any price. That person the beholder cannot at all understand, nor let his eye rest upon him with confidence. Perhaps what the believer intends just cannot be done, after all it is unthinkable. Or if it could be done and the individual had misunderstood the deity, what salvation would there be for him? The tragic hero, he needs tears and he claims them; yes, where was that envious eye so barren as not to weep with Agamemnon, but where was he whose soul was so confused as to presume to weep for Abraham? The tragic hero has done with his deed at a definite moment in time, but in the course of time he achieves something no less important, he seeks out the one whose soul is beset with sorrow, whose breast cannot draw air for its stifled sighs, whose thoughts, weighed down with tears, hang heavy upon him; he appears before him, he breaks the spell of grief, loosens the corset, coaxes forth the tear by making the sufferer forget his own suffering in his. Abraham one cannot weep over. One approaches him with a horror religiosus [holy terror] like that in which Israel approached Mount Sinai. What if the lonely man who climbs the mountain in Moriah, whose peak soars heaven-high over the plains of Aulis, is not a sleepwalker who treads surefootedly over the abyss, while someone standing at the foot of the mountain, seeing him there, trembles with anxiety and out of respect and fear dares not even shout to him — what if he should be distracted, what if he has made a mistake? — Thanks! And thanks again, to whoever holds out to one who has been assaulted and left naked by life's sorrows, holds out to him the leaf of the word with which to hide his misery. Thanks to you, great Shakespeare!, you who can say everything, everything, everything exactly as it is — and yet why was this torment one you never gave voice to? Was it perhaps that you kept it to yourself, like the beloved whose name one still cannot bear the world to mention? For a poet buys this power of words to utter all the grim secrets of others at the cost of a little secret he himself cannot utter, and a poet is not an apostle, he casts devils out only by the power of the devil.

But now when the ethical is thus teleologically suspended, how does the single individual in whom it is suspended exist? He exists as the particular in opposition to the universal. Does this mean he sins? For this is the form of sin looked at ideally, just as the fact that the child does not sin because it is not conscious of its own existence as such does not mean that, looked at ideally, its existence is not that of sin or that the ethical does not make its demands of the child at every moment. If this form cannot be said to repeat itself in a way other than that of sin, then judgement has been delivered upon Abraham. Then how did Abraham exist? He had faith. That is the paradox that keeps him at the extremity and which he cannot make clear to anyone else, for the paradox is that he puts himself as the single individual in an absolute relation to the absolute. Is he justified? His justification is, once again, the paradox; for if he is the paradox it is not by virtue of being anything universal, but of being the particular.

How does the single individual assure himself that he is justified? It is a simple enough matter to level the whole of existence down to the idea of the State or to a concept of society. If one does that one can no doubt also mediate; for in this way one does not come to the paradox at all, to the single individual's as such being higher than the universal, which I can also put pointedly in a proposition of Pythagoras's, that the odd numbers are more perfect than the even. Should one happen to catch word of an answer in the direction of the paradox in our time, it will no doubt go like this: 'That's to be judged by the outcome.' A hero who has become the scandal of his generation, aware that he is a paradox that cannot be understood, cries undaunted to his contemporaries: 'The future will show I was right!' This cry is heard less frequently nowadays, for as our age to its detriment produces no heroes, so it has the advantage that it also produces few caricatures. Whenever nowadays we hear the words 'That's to be judged by the outcome' we know immediately with whom we have the honour of conversing. Those who speak thus are a populous tribe which, to give them a common name, I shall call the 'lecturers'. They live in their thoughts, secure in life, they have a permanent position and sure prospects in a well-organized State; they are separated by centuries, even millennia, from the convulsions of existence; they have no fear that such things could happen again; what would the police and the newspapers say? Their lifework is to judge the great, to judge them according to the outcome. Such conduct in respect of greatness betrays a strange mixture of arrogance and pitifulness, arrogance because they feel called to pass judgement, pitifulness because they feel their lives unrelated in even the remotest manner to those of the great. Surely anyone with a speck of erectior ingenii [nobility of mind] cannot become so completely the cold and clammy mollusc as to lose sight altogether, in approaching the great, of the fact that ever since the Creation it has been accepted practice for the outcome to come last, and that if one is really to learn something from the great it is precisely the beginning one must attend to. If anyone on the verge of action should judge himself according to the outcome, he would never begin. Even though the result may gladden the whole world, that cannot help the hero; for he knows the result only when the whole thing is over, and that is not how he becomes a hero, but by virtue of the fact that he began.

But in any case the outcome in its dialectic (in so far as it is finitude's answer to the infinite question) is totally incompatible with the existence of the hero. Or are we to take it that Abraham was justified in relating himself as the single individual to the universal by the fact that he got Isaac by a marvel? Had Abraham actually sacrificed Isaac, would that have meant he was less justified?

But it is the outcome that arouses our curiosity, as with the conclusion of a book; one wants nothing of the fear, the distress, the paradox. One flirts with the outcome aesthetically; it comes as unexpectedly and yet as effortlessly as a prize in the lottery; and having heard the outcome one is improved. And yet no robber of temples hard-labouring in chains is so base a criminal as he who plunders the holy in this way, and not even Judas, who sold his master for thirty pieces of silver, is more contemptible than the person who would thus offer greatness for sale.

It goes against my nature to speak inhumanly of greatness, to let its grandeur fade into an indistinct outline at an immense distance, or represent it as great without the human element in it coming to the fore — whence it ceases to be the great; for it is not what happens to me that makes me great, but what I do, and there is surely no one who thinks that anyone became great by winning the big lottery prize. Even of a person born in humble circumstances I ask that he should not be so inhuman towards himself as to be unable to think of the king's castle except at a distance and by dreaming of its grandeur indistinctly, wanting to exalt it and simultaneously destroying its grandeur by exalting it in such a debasing way. I ask that he be human enough to approach and bear himself with confidence and dignity there too. He should not be so inhuman as shamelessly to want to violate every rule of respect by storming into the king's salon straight from the street — he loses more by doing that than the king; on the contrary he should find pleasure in observing every rule of decorum with a glad and confident enthusiasm, which is just what will make him frank and open-hearted. This is only an analogy, for the difference here is only a very imperfect expression of the spiritual distance. I ask everyone not to think so inhumanly of himself as to dare not set foot in those palaces where not just the memory of the chosen lives on but the chosen themselves. He should not push himself shamelessly forward and thrust upon them his kinship with them, he should feel happy every time he bows before them, but be frank and confident and always something more than a cleaning woman; for unless he wants to be more than that he will never come in there. And what will help him are exactly the fear and distress in which the great are tried, for otherwise, at least if there is a drop of red blood in him, they will merely arouse his righteous envy. And whatever can only be great at a distance, whatever people want to exalt with empty and hollow phrases, that they themselves reduce to nothing.

Was there ever in the world anyone as great as that blessed woman, the mother of God, the Virgin Mary? And yet how do people speak of her? To say she was favoured among women doesn't make her great, and if it were not for the odd fact that those who listen can think as inhumanly as those who speak, surely every young girl would ask, why am I not favoured too? And had I nothing more to say I should by no means dismiss such a question as stupid; for as regards favours, abstractly considered, everyone is equally entitled. What is left out is the distress, the fear, the paradox. My thought is as pure as the next man's and surely the thought of anyone able to think in this way will be pure; if not, something dreadful is in store; for a person who has once called these images to mind cannot be rid of them again, and if he sins against them, then in their quiet wrath, more terrifying than the clamour often voracious critics, they will wreak their awful vengeance on him. No doubt Mary bore the child miraculously, but it went with Mary 'after the manner of women', and such a time is one of fear, distress, and paradox. No doubt the angel was a ministering spirit, but he was not an obliging one who went round to all the other young girls in Israel and said: 'Do not despise Mary, something out of the ordinary is happening to her.' The angel came only to Mary, and no one could understand her. Yet what woman was done greater indignity than Mary, and isn't it true here too that those whom God blesses he damns in the same breath? This is the spirit's understanding of Mary, and she is not at all — as it offends me to say, though even more so that people have mindlessly and irresponsibly thought of her thus — she is not at all the fine lady sitting in her finery and playing with a divine child. Yet for saying notwithstanding, 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord', she is great, and it seems to me that it should not be difficult to explain why she became the mother of God. She needs no worldly admiration, as little as Abraham needs our tears, for she was no heroine and he no hero, but both of them became greater than that, not by any means by being relieved of the distress, the agony, and the paradox, but because of these.

Great indeed it is when the poet presents his tragic hero for popular admiration and dares to say: 'Weep for him, for he deserves it'; for there is greatness in meriting the tears of those who deserve to shed them; great indeed for the poet to dare hold the crowd in check, dare discipline people into testing their own worthiness to weep for the hero, for the waste-water of snivellers is a degradation of the holy. But greater than all these is that the knight of faith dares to say even to the noble person who would weep for him: 'Do not weep for me, but weep for yourself.'

One is stirred, one harks back to those beautiful times, sweet tender longings lead one to the goal of one's desire, to see Christ walking about in the promised land. One forgets the fear, the distress, the paradox. Was it so easy a matter not to be mistaken? Was it not a fearful thought that this man who walked among the others was God? Was it not terrifying to sit down to eat with him? Was it so easy a matter to become an apostle? But the outcome, eighteen centuries, that helps; it helps that shabby deception wherein one deceives oneself and others. I do not feel brave enough to wish to be contemporary with such events, but for that reason I do not judge harshly of those who were mistaken, nor think meanly of those who saw the truth.

But now I return to Abraham. In the time before the outcome either Abraham was a murderer every minute or we stay with the paradox which is higher than all mediation.

So Abraham's story contains a teleological suspension of the ethical. He has, as the single individual, become higher than the universal. This is the paradox which cannot be mediated. How he got into it is just as inexplicable as how he stayed in it. If this is not how it is with Abraham, then he is not even a tragic hero but a murderer. To want to go on calling him the father of faith, to talk of this to those who are only concerned with words, is thoughtless. A tragic hero can become a human being by his own strength, but not the knight of faith. When a person sets out on the tragic hero's admittedly hard path there are many who could lend him advice; but he who walks the narrow path of faith no one can advise, no one understand. Faith is a marvel, and yet no human being is excluded from it; for that in which all human life is united is passion,【4】 and faith is a passion.

Problema Ⅱ

Is There an Absolute Duty to God?

The ethical is the universal and as such, in turn, the divine. It is therefore correct to say that all duty is ultimately duty to God; but if one cannot say more one says in effect that really I have no duty to God. The duty becomes duty to God by being referred to God, but I do not enter into relation with God in the duty itself. Thus it is a duty to love one's neighbour; it is a duty in so far as it is referred to God; yet it is not God that I come in relation to in the duty but the neighbour I love. If, in this connection, I then say that it is my duty to love God, I in fact only utter a tautology, in so far as 'God' is understood in an altogether abstract sense as the divine: i. e. the universal, i. e. duty. The whole of human existence is in that case entirely self-enclosed, as a sphere, and the ethical is at once the limit and completion. God becomes an invisible, vanishing point, an impotent thought, and his power is to be found only in the ethical, which fills all existence. So if it should occur to someone to want to love God in some other sense than that mentioned, he is merely being extravagant and loves a phantom which, if it only had the strength to speak, would say to him: 'Stay where you belong, I don't ask for your love.' If it should occur to someone to want to love God in another way, this love would be suspect, like the love referred to by Rousseau when he talks of a person's loving the Kaffirs instead of his neighbour.

Now flail this is correct, if there is nothing incommensurable in a human life, but any incommensurability were due only to some chance from which nothing followed so far as existence is looked at in light of the Idea, then Hegel would be right. But where he is wrong is in talking about faith or in letting Abraham be looked on as its father; for in this latter he has passed sentence both on Abraham and on faith. In the Hegelian philosophy das Äussere (die Entäusserung) [the outer, the externalization] is higher than das Innere [the inner]. This is often illustrated by an example. The child is das Innere, the man das Äussere; which is why the child is determined precisely by the outer, and conversely the man as das Äussere by the inner. Faith, on the contrary, is this paradox, that interiority is higher than exteriority, or to recall again an expression we used above, that the odd number is higher than the even.

In the ethical view of life, then, it is the individual's task to divest himself of the determinant of interiority and give it an expression in the exterior. Whenever the individual shrinks from doing so, whenever he wants to stay inside, or slip back into, the inner determinant of feeling, mood, etc., he commits an offence, he is in a state of temptation. The paradox of faith is this, that there is an interiority that is incommensurable with the exterior, an interiority which, it should be stressed, is not identical with the first [that of the child], but is a new interiority. This must not be overlooked. Recent philosophy has allowed itself without further ado to substitute the immediate for 'faith'. If one does that it is ridiculous to deny that faith has existed through all ages. Faith in such a case keeps fairly ordinary company, it belongs with feeling, mood, idiosyncrasy, hysteria and the rest. So far philosophy is right to say one should not stop at that. But there is nothing to warrant philosophy's speaking in this manner. Prior to faith there is a movement of infinity, and only then enters faith, nec opinate [unexpectedly]; on the strength of the absurd. This I am very well able to understand, without claiming thereby to have faith. If faith is no more than what philosophy passes it off as then Socrates himself already went further, much further, rather than the converse, that he didn't come that far. He made the movement of infinity intellectually, His ignorance is the infinite resignation. That task is in itself a match for human strength, even if people nowadays scorn it; yet it is only when this has been done, only when the individual has exhausted himself in the infinite, that he reaches the point where faith can emerge.

Then faith's paradox is this, that the single individual is higher than the universal, that the single individual (to recall a theological distinction less in vogue these days) determines his relation to the universal through his relation to the absolute, not his relation to the absolute through his relation to the universal. The paradox can also be put by saying that there is an absolute duty to God; for in this tie of obligation the individual relates himself absolutely, as the single individual, to the absolute. When people now say that it is a duty to love God, it is in a sense quite different from the above; for if this duty is absolute the ethical is reduced to the relative.It doesn't follow, nevertheless, that [the ethical] is to be done away with. Only that it gets a quite different expression, the paradoxical expression, so that, e. g., love of God can cause the knight of faith to give his love of his neighbour the opposite expression to that which is his duty ethically speaking.

Unless this is how it is, faith has no place in existence; and faith is then a temptation, and Abraham is done for, since he gave in to it.

This paradox does not allow of mediation: for it rests precisely on the single individual's being only the single individual. As soon as this individual wants to express his absolute duty in the universal, becomes conscious of it in the latter, he knows he is in a state of temptation, and then, even if he otherwise resists the temptation, he does not come to fulfil that so-called absolute duty, and if he does not resist it he sins even if realiter [independently of his inclination, wishes, state of mind] his act is the one that was his absolute duty. Thus what could Abraham have done? If he had wanted to say to someone: 'I love Isaac more than everything in the world, and that's why it is so hard for me to sacrifice him', the person would surely have shaken his head and said: 'Then why sacrifice him?', or if he was a perceptive fellow perhaps he might even have seen through Abraham, realized that he was betraying feelings which stood in flagrant contradiction with his deed.

In the story of Abraham we find just such a paradox. Ethically speaking his relation to Isaac is this, that the father is to love the son. This ethical relationship is reduced to the relative as against the absolute relation to God. To the question, why?, Abraham has no other answer than that it is a trial and a temptation, which, as remarked above, is what makes it a unity of being for both God's sake and his own. These two are also correlative in ordinary usage. Thus when we see someone do something that doesn't conform with the universal, we say, 'He can hardly be doing that for the sake of God', meaning by this that he did it for his own sake. The paradox of faith has lost the intermediate term, i. e. the universal. On the one hand it contains the expression of extreme egoism (doing this dreadful deed for his own sake) and on the other the expression of the most absolute devotion (doing it for God's sake). Faith itself cannot be mediated into the universal, for in that case it would be cancelled. Faith is this paradox, and the single individual is quite unable to make himself intelligible to anyone. One might suppose the single individual could make himself understood to another individual who is in the same situation. Such a view would be unthinkable were it not that nowadays people try in so many ways to sneak their way into greatness. The one knight of faith simply cannot help the other. Either the single individual becomes a knight of faith himself by putting on the paradox, or he never becomes one. Partnership in these regions is quite unthinkable. If there is any more precise explanation of the idea behind the sacrifice of Isaac, it is one that the individual can only give to himself. And supposing one could settle, even with some exactitude, in universal terms, how to understand the case of Isaac (which would in any case be the most absurd self-contradiction, namely that the single individual who stands precisely outside the universal be brought in under universal categories, when he is expressly to act as the single individual outside the universal), the individual could still never be assured of [the truth of] this explanation by others, but only by himself as the single individual. So even if someone were so cowardly and base as to want to be a knight of faith on someone else's responsibility, he would never become one; for only the single individual becomes one, as the single individual, and this is the knight's greatness, as I can well understand without being party to it, since I lack courage; though also his terror, as I can understand even better.

As everyone knows, Luke 14.26 presents a remarkable teaching on the absolute duty to God: 'If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.' This is a hard saying, who can bear to hear it? And for that reason it is heard very seldom. Yet this silence is only a futile evasion. The student of theology learns, however, that these words occur in the New Testament, and in one or another exegetical aid he finds the information that misein [to hate], both here and in some other passages, is used per meiosin [by adopting a weaker sense] to mean: minus diligo [love less], posthabeo [give less priority to], non colo [show no respect to], nihil facio [make nothing of]. The context in which these words occur seems, however, not to corroborate this tasteful explanation. For in the next verse [but one] there is a story about someone who plans to erect a tower but first makes some estimate of his capacity to do so, lest he be the object of ridicule later. The close link between this story and the verse quoted seems to suggest precisely that the words are to be taken in as terrifying a sense as possible in order that everyone should examine his own ability to erect the building.

If this pious and tender-minded exegete, who thinks he can smuggle Christianity into the world by haggling in this way, should succeed in convincing anyone that grammatically, linguistically, and kata analogian [by analogy] this was the meaning of the passage, then it is to be hoped that in so doing he also manages to convince the same person that Christianity is one of the most miserable things in the world. For the teaching which in one of its most lyrical outpourings, where the sense of its eternal validity swells up most strongly, has nothing to offer but a sounding phrase that signifies nothing and suggests only that one is to be less kind, less attentive, more indifferent; the teaching which, just as it seems to want to tell us something terrible, ends up in drivel rather than terror — that teaching is certainly not worth standing up for.

The words are terrible, but I feel sure they can be understood without the person who understands them necessarily having the courage to do as they say. And yet there must be honesty enough to admit what is there, to confess to its greatness even if one lacks the courage oneself. Anyone who manages that will not exclude himself from a share in the beautiful story, for in a way it contains a kind of comfort for the man who lacks courage to begin building the tower. But he must be honest and not pass off this lack of courage as humility, since on the contrary it is pride, while the courage of faith is the only humble courage.

One now sees readily that if the passage is to have any sense, it must be understood literally. It is God who demands absolute love. Anyone who, in demanding a person's love, thinks this must be proved by the latter's becoming lukewarm towards all that was hitherto dear to him, is not simply an egoist but a fool, and anyone demanding such a love would simultaneously sign his own death-warrant in so far as his life is bound up in this love he craves. A husband requires his wife to leave her father and mother, but were he to regard it as proof of her special love for him that for his sake she became a lukewarm, indolent daughter, etc., then he would be an idiot among idiots. Had he any notion of what love was, he would want to discover — and should he discover it see in this an assurance that his wife loved him more than any other in the kingdom — that she was perfect in her love as daughter and sister. So what would be considered a sign of egoism and stupidity in a person, one is supposed with the help of an exegete to regard as a worthy conception of the deity.

But how then hate them? I shall not take up the human love/hate distinction here, not because I have so much against it, since at least it is a passionate distinction, but it is egoistic and so does not fit here. If I regard the requirement as a paradox, on the other hand, then I understand it, i. e. understand it in the way one can understand a paradox. The absolute duty can then lead to what ethics would forbid, but it can by no means make the knight of faith have done with loving. This is shown by Abraham. The moment he is ready to sacrifice Isaac, the ethical expression for what he does is this: he hates Isaac. But if he actually hates Isaac he can be certain that God does not require this of him; for Cain and Abraham are not the same. Isaac he must love with all his soul. When God asks for Isaac, Abraham must if possible love him even more, and only then can he sacrifice him; for it is indeed this love of Isaac that in its paradoxical opposition to his love of God makes his act a sacrifice. But the distress and anguish in the paradox is that, humanly speaking, he is quite incapable of making himself understood. Only in the moment when his act is in absolute contradiction with his feeling, only then does he sacrifice Isaac, but the reality of his act is that in virtue of which he belongs to the universal, and there he is and remains a murderer.

Furthermore, the passage in Luke must be understood in such a way that one grasps that the knight of faith has no higher expression whatever of the universal (as the ethical) which can save him. Thus if we imagine the Church were to demand this sacrifice of one of its members, then all we have is a tragic hero. For qualitatively the idea of the Church is no different from that of the State, inasmuch as the individual can enter it by common mediation, and in so far as the individual has entered the paradox he does not arrive at the idea of the Church; he doesn't get out of the paradox either, but must find either his blessedness or his damnation inside it. An ecclesiastical hero expresses the universal in his deed, and no one in the Church, not even his father or mother, etc., will fail to understand him. But he is not the knight of faith, and has also a different answer from Abraham's; he doesn't say it is a trial or a temptation in which he is being tested.

One as a rule refrains from citing texts like the one in Luke. There is a fear of letting people loose, a fear that the worst will happen once the individual enjoys carrying on like an individual. Moreover living as the individual is thought to be the easiest thing of all, and it is the universal that people must be coerced into becoming. I can share neither this fear nor this opinion, and for the same reason. No person who has learned that to exist as the individual is the most terrifying thing of all will be afraid of saying it is the greatest. But then he mustn't say it in a way that makes his words a pitfall for somebody on the loose, but rather in a way that helps that person into the universal, even though his words can make some small allowance for greatness. The person who dares not mention such passages dares not mention Abraham either, and to think that existing as the individual is an easy enough matter implies a very dubious indirect admission with regard to oneself; for someone who really respects himself and is concerned for his own soul is assured of the fact that a person living under his own supervision in the world at large lives in greater austerity and seclusion than a maiden in her lady's bower. That there may be some who need coercion, who if given free rein would riot in selfish pleasure like unbridled beasts, is no doubt true, but one should show precisely by the fact that one knows how to speak with fear and trembling that one is not of their number. And out of respect for greatness one should indeed speak, lest it be forgotten for fear of the harm which surely won't arise if one speaks as one who knows it is the great, knows its terrors, and if one doesn't know these one doesn't know its greatness either.

Let us then consider more closely the distress and fear in the paradox of faith. The tragic hero renounces himself in order to express the universal; the knight of faith renounces the universal in order to be the particular. As mentioned, it all depends on how one is placed. Someone who believes it is a simple enough matter to be the individual can always be certain that he is not the knight of faith; for stragglers and vagrant geniuses are not men of faith. Faith's knight knows on the contrary that it is glorious to belong to the universal. He knows it is beautiful and benign to be the particular who translates himself into the universal, the one who so to speak makes a clear and elegant edition of himself, as immaculate as possible, and readable for all; he knows it is refreshing to become intelligible to oneself in the universal, so that he understands the universal and everyone who understands him understands the universal through him in turn, and both rejoice in the security of the universal. He knows it is beautiful to be born as the particular with the universal as his home, his friendly abode, which receives him straightaway with open arms when he wishes to stay there. But he also knows that higher up there winds a lonely path, narrow and steep; he knows it is terrible to be born in solitude outside the universal, to walk without meeting a single traveller. He knows very well where he is, and how he is related to men. Humanly speaking he is insane and cannot make himself understood to anyone. And yet 'insane' is the mildest expression for him. If he isn't viewed thus, he is a hypocrite and the higher up the path he climbs, the more dreadful a hypocrite he becomes.

The knight of faith knows it gives inspiration to surrender oneself to the universal, that it takes courage to do so, but also that there is a certain security in it, just because it is for the universal; he knows it is glorious to be understood by every noble mind, and in such a way that even the beholder is thereby ennobled. This he knows and he feels as though bound, he could wish this was the task he had been set. Thus surely Abraham must have now and then wished that the task was to love Isaac in a way meet and fitting for a father, as all would understand and as would be remembered for all time; he must have wished his task was to sacrifice Isaac for the universal, so as to inspire fathers to illustrious deeds — and he must have been well nigh horrified by the thought that for him such wishes were merely temptations and must be treated as such; for he knew it was a solitary path he trod, and that he was doing nothing for the universal but only being tested and tried himself. Or what was it Abraham did for the universal? Let me speak humanly about it, really humanly! It takes him seventy years to get the son of his old age. What others get soon enough and have long joy of takes him seventy years. And why? Because he is being tested and tried. Is that not insanity? But Abraham believed, and only Sarah wavered and got him to take Hagar as his concubine — but for that reason he also had to drive Hagar away. He gets Isaac and now he is to be tried once again. He knew it was glorious to express the universal, glorious to live with Isaac. But this is not the task. He knew it would have been a kingly deed to sacrifice such a son for the universal, he himself would have found repose in that, and everyone would have 'reposed' in their praise of his deed, just as the vowel 'reposes' in its quiescent letter; but this is not the task — he is being tried. That Roman general famous under the name of Cunctator halted the enemy by his delaying tactics, yet what kind of delayer is Abraham by comparison? But he isn't saving the State. This is the sum of one hundred and thirty years. Who can bear it? Should his contemporaries — if they can be called that — not say: 'There is an eternal procrastinating with Abraham; when he finally gets a son — and that took long enough — he wants to sacrifice him; he must be demented; and if only he could explain why he wanted to do that, but no, it's always a "trial'"? Nor could Abraham offer any further explanation, for his life is like a book put under divine seizure and which will never become publici juris [public property].

This is what is terrible. Anyone who doesn't see this can always be quite certain he is no knight of faith; but anyone who does see it will not deny that the step of even the most tried tragic hero goes like a dance compared with the slow and creeping progress of the knight of faith. And having seen it and realized he does not have the courage to understand it, he must at least have some idea of the wonderful glory achieved by that knight in becoming God's confidant, the Lord's friend, and — to speak really humanly — in addressing God in heaven as 'Thou', while even the tragic hero only addresses him in the third person.

The tragic hero is soon finished, his struggle is soon at an end; he makes the infinite movement and is now safe in the universal. But the knight of faith is kept awake, for he is under constant trial and can turn back in repentance to the universal at any moment, and this possibility can just as well be a temptation as the truth. Enlightenment as to which is something he can get from no one; otherwise he would be outside the paradox.

The knight of faith has therefore, first and foremost, the passion to concentrate the whole of the ethical that he violates in one single thing; he can be sure that he really loves Isaac with all his soul.【5】 If he cannot be that, he is in a state of temptation. Next, he has the passion to evoke this certainty intact in a twinkling and in as fully valid a way as in the first instance. If he cannot do this he doesn't get started, for then he must constantly start again from the beginning. The tragic hero, too, concentrates in one single thing the ethical that he teleologically violates, but in this thing he has resort to the universal. The knight of faith has only himself, and it is there the terrible lies. Most people let their ethical obligations last a day at a time, but then they never reach this passionate concentration, this energetic awareness. The tragic hero can in a sense be helped by the universal in acquiring these, but the knight of faith is alone about everything. The tragic hero acts and finds his point of rest in the universal, the knight of faith is kept in constant tension. Agamemnon gives up his claim to Iphigenia, thereby finds his point of rest in the universal, and now proceeds to give her in sacrifice. If Agamemnon had not made the movement, if in the decisive moment, instead of a passionate concentration, his soul had been lost in common chatter about his having several daughters, and vielleicht das Ausserordentliche [perhaps something extraordinary] could happen — then naturally he would not be a hero but a case for charity. Abraham has the hero's concentration too, even though in him it is much more difficult since he has no resort at all to the universal, but he makes one movement more through which he concentrates his soul back upon the marvel. If Abraham hadn't done that he would only have been an Agamemnon, provided it can be explained how his willingness to sacrifice Isaac can be justified other than by its benefiting the universal.

Whether the individual is now really in a state of temptation or a knight of faith, only the individual can decide. Still, it is possible on the basis of the paradox to construct certain criteria which even someone not in it can understand. The true knight of faith is always absolute isolation, the false knight is sectarian. The latter involves an attempt to leap off the narrow path of the paradox in order to become a tragic hero on the cheap. The tragic hero expresses the universal and sacrifices himself for it. The sectarian Master Jackel has instead his private theatre, [i. e.] several good friends and companions who represent the universal about as well as the public witnesses in The Golden Snuffbox represent justice. The knight of faith, on the other hand, is the paradox, he is the individual, absolutely nothing but the individual, without connections and complications. This is the terror that the puny sectarian cannot endure. Instead of learning from this that he is incapable of greatness and plainly admitting it, something I cannot but approve since it is what I myself do, the poor wretch thinks he will achieve it by joining company with other poor wretches. But it won't at all work, no cheating is tolerated in the world of spirit. A dozen sectarians link arms, they know nothing at all of the lonely temptations in store for the knight of faith and which he dare not shun just because it would be more terrible still were he presumptuously to force his way forward. The sectarians deafen each other with their clang and clatter, hold dread at bay with their shrieks, and a whooping Sunday-outing like this thinks it is storming heaven, believes it is following the same path as the knight of faith who, in cosmic isolation, hears never a voice but walks alone with his dreadful responsibility.

As for the knight of faith, he is assigned to himself alone, he has the pain of being unable to make himself intelligible to others but feels no vain desire to show others the way. The pain is the assurance, vain desires are unknown to him, his mind is too serious for that. The false knight readily betrays himself by this instantly acquired proficiency; he just doesn't grasp the point that if another individual is to walk the same path he has to be just as much the individual and is therefore in no need of guidance, least of all from one anxious to press his services on others. Here again, people unable to bear the martyrdom of unintelligibility jump off the path, and choose instead, conveniently enough, the world's admiration of their proficiency. The true knight of faith is a witness, never a teacher, and in this lies the deep humanity in him which is more worth than this foolish concern for others' weal and woe which is honoured under the name of sympathy, but which is really nothing but vanity. A person who wants only to be a witness confesses thereby that no one, not even the least, needs another person's sympathy, or is to be put down so another can raise himself up. But because what he himself won he did not win on the cheap, so neither does he sell it on the cheap; he is not so pitiable as to accept people's admiration and pay for it with silent contempt; he knows that whatever truly is great is available equally for all.

So either there is an absolute duty to God, and if so then it is the paradox described, that the single individual as the particular is higher than the universal and as the particular stands in an absolute relation to the absolute — or else faith has never existed because it has existed always; or else Abraham is done for; or else one must explain the passage in Luke 14 in the way that tasteful exegete did, and explain the corresponding passages likewise, and similar ones.

Problema Ⅲ

Was it Ethically Defensible of Abraham to Conceal his Purpose from Sarah, from Eleazar, from Isaac?

The ethical is as such the universal; as the universal it is in turn the disclosed. Seen as an immediate, no more than sensate and psychic being, the individual is concealed. So his ethical task is to unwrap himself from this concealment and become disclosed in the universal. Thus whenever he wants to remain in concealment, he sins and is in a state of temptation, from which he can emerge only by disclosing himself.

We find ourselves again at the same point. Unless there is a concealment which has its basis in the single individual's being higher than the universal, then Abraham's conduct cannot be defended, since he disregarded the intermediate ethical considerations. If, however, there is such a concealment, then we face the paradox, which cannot be mediated, just because it is based on the single individual's being, in his particularity, higher than the universal, and it is precisely the universal that is the mediation. The Hegelian philosophy assumes there is no justified concealment, no justified incommensurability. It is therefore consistent in its requirement of disclosure, but it isn't quite fair and square in wanting to regard Abraham as the father of faith and to speak about faith. For faith is not the first immediacy but a later one. The first immediacy is the aesthetic, and here the Hegelian philosophy may well be right. But faith is not the aesthetic, or if it is, then faith has never existed just because it has existed always.

It will be best here to look at the whole matter in a purely aesthetic way and for that purpose embark on an aesthetic inquiry, which I would ask the reader for the time being to enter wholeheartedly into, while I for my part will adapt my presentation accordingly. The category I would like to examine a little more closely is that of the interesting, a category that especially today (just because we live in discrimine rerum [at a turningpoint in human affairs]) has acquired great importance, for really it is the category of crisis. Therefore one should not, as sometimes happens, when one has been oneself enamoured of it pro virili [with all one's strength], disdain the category because it has passed one by; but neither should one be too greedy for it, for what is certain is that to become of interest, for one's life to be interesting, has nothing to do with what you can turn your hand to but is a fateful privilege which, like every privilege in the world of spirit, can only be purchased in deep pain. Thus Socrates was the most interesting person that has lived, his life the most interesting that has been led, but that existence was allotted to him by the deity, and since he had to work for it he was no stranger to trouble and pain. Taking such an existence in vain ill-becomes someone who takes life seriously, and yet such attempts are nowadays not infrequently observed. The category of the interesting is, moreover, a borderline one, it marks the boundary between the aesthetic and the ethical. For that reason in our inquiry we must be constantly glancing over into the territory of ethics, while to give our inquiries weight the problem must be grasped with genuine aesthetic feeling. These days ethics rarely considers such things. The reason is supposed to be that there is no room for them in the System. But then doing so in monographs should be all fight; and besides, if one doesn't want to be long-winded about it one can achieve the same results by being brief, so long as one has the predicate in one's power; for a predicate or two can reveal a whole world. Is there no room in the System for little words like these?

Aristotle says in his immortal Poetics: 'duo men oun tou muthou meri, pert taut' esti, peripeteia kai anagnorisis' (cf. Ch. Ⅱ) ['... indeed two parts in the myth, namely sudden change of fortune [the reverse (on which the plot of a tragedy turns)] and recognition, concern these things']. Naturally only the second feature, anagnorisis, recognition, concerns me here. Whenever there is recognition there is eo ipso a question of prior concealment. Just as the recognition is the resolving factor, or the element of relaxation in the life of drama, so is concealment the element of tension. What Aristotle says earlier in the same chapter in respect of the consequences for the worth of tragedy of the question whether peripeteia and anagnorisis clash, as well as of the 'single' and 'double' recognition, I cannot go into here, even though the sincerity and quiet absorption of Aristotle's discussion have an inevitable attraction for one long since tired of the superficial omniscience of the synopticists. A general observation must suffice. In Greek tragedy concealment (and therefore recognition) is an epic survival based on a fate in which the dramatic action disappears from view, and from which it acquires its obscure and enigmatic origin. This is why the effect produced by a Greek tragedy bears a resemblance to the impression given by a marble statue that lacks the power of the eye. Greek tragedy is blind. Hence it takes a certain abstraction to appreciate it. A son murders his father, but not until later learns it is his father. A sister is about to sacrifice her brother, but at the decisive moment discovers that is who it is. Tragedy of this nature is less apt to interest our reflective age. Modern drama has given up the idea of Fate, has in dramatic respects emancipated itself; it observes, it looks in upon itself, takes fate up into its dramatic consciousness. Concealment and disclosure then become the hero's free act, for which he is responsible.

Recognition and concealment are also an essential part of modern drama. It would take us too far to give examples. I am courteous enough to assume that everyone in this so aesthetically voluptuous age, so potent and aroused that conception occurs as easily as with the partridge which, Aristotle says, needs only to hear the voice of the cock or its flight overhead — to assume that at the mere sound of the word 'concealment' everyone can easily shake a dozen romances and comedies from his sleeve. I can therefore be brief and offer straightaway a fairly broad observation. If the person doing the hiding, i. e. the one who puts the dramatic yeast into the play, hides something nonsensical, we have comedy. But if the concealer is related to the idea, he may come close to being a tragic hero. To give just one example of the comic. A man puts on make-up and wears a wig. The same man wants to have success with the fair sex, and is sure enough of conquests with the help of the make-up and wig, which there is no doubt make him irresistible. He captures a girl and is on the pinnacle of joy. But now for the point. If he can admit his deception, will he not lose all of his powers of fascination once he is revealed as a quite ordinary, in fact even bald-headed male? Doesn't he have to lose the loved one again? Concealment is his free action, for which aesthetics holds him responsible. But that discipline is no friend of bald hypocrites, and will leave him to the mercy of our laughter. Let that suffice as a hint of what I mean, since we cannot include comedy in the terms of this investigation.

My procedure here must be to let concealment pass dialectically between aesthetics and ethics, for the point is to show how absolutely different the paradox and aesthetic concealment are from one another.

A few examples. A girl is secretly in love, though neither party has openly confessed its love to the other. Her parents force her to marry another (she may even be motivated out of considerations of duty). She obeys. She hides her love 'so as not to make the other unhappy, and no one will ever know what she suffers'. — Or a young lad is in a position, just by dropping one word, to possess the object of his craving and restless dreams. But that little word will compromise, yes, even, who knows, ruin an entire family. He nobly chooses to stay in concealment, 'the girl must never know, so that she can perhaps find happiness with another'. What a pity that these two, both concealed from their respective loved ones, are also concealed from one another! For otherwise a remarkable higher unity might have been brought about. — Their concealment is a free act, for which even aesthetically they are responsible. However, aesthetics is a respectful and sentimental discipline which knows more ways of fixing things than any assistant house-manager. So what does it do? It does everything possible for the lovers. By means of a coincidence the respective partners in the projected marriages get wind of the other party's noble decision. Explanations follow. They get each other and as a bonus the rank of real heroes as well; for notwithstanding they have had no time even to sleep on their heroic resolutions, aesthetics sees it as if they had bravely fought for their goal over many years. For aesthetics doesn't bother much about time; it goes just as quickly whether in jest or earnest.

But ethics knows nothing either of this coincidence or this sentimentality. Nor does it have such a rapid concept of time. Thus the matter acquires a different complexion. You can't argue with ethics, because it uses pure categories. It doesn't appeal to experience, which of all laughable things is perhaps the most laughable and, far from making a man wise, if he knows nothing higher it will sooner make him mad. Ethics has no coincidence, so no explanations follow; it doesn't flirt with thoughts of dignity, it puts an enormous burden of responsibility on the hero's frail shoulders; it condemns as presumptuous his thought of wanting to play providence in his action, but also condemns him for wanting to do likewise with his suffering. It enjoins the belief in reality and the courage to contend with all its tribulations, rather than with those bloodless sufferings he has taken on himself by his own responsibility; it warns against putting faith in the calculating shrewdness of reason, more treacherous than the oracles of the ancients. It warns against all misplaced magnanimity. Let reality decide the occasion, that is the time to show courage. But then ethics, too, will offer every possible assistance. If something deeper had been stirring in those two, however, if there had been a seriousness to see the task, to set about it, then no doubt something would have come of them. But ethics cannot help them. Ethics is offended because they are keeping a secret from it, a secret they have incurred on their own responsibility.

Thus aesthetics called for concealment and rewarded it. Ethics called for disclosure and punished concealment.

Sometimes, however, even aesthetics calls for disclosure. When the hero held captive in the aesthetic illusion believes he can save another by his silence, aesthetics calls for silence and rewards it. But when the hero's action involves interfering in another person's life, it calls for disclosure. Now I am talking of the tragic hero. Consider for a moment Euripides's Iphigenia in Aulis. Agamemnon is about to sacrifice Iphigenia. Now aesthetics calls for Agamemnon's silence, in so far as it would be unworthy of the hero to seek another's consolation, just as he should keep it quiet as long as possible for the women's sake. On the other hand the hero, to be that, aesthetics do? It has a way out; it has an old servant standing by who discloses everything to Clytemnestra. And now everything is as it should be.

Ethics, however, has no coincidence, and no old servant standing by. The aesthetic idea contradicts itself as soon as it is applied in reality. Ethics therefore demands disclosure. The tragic hero demonstrates exactly this ethical courage by, not himself being captive to the aesthetic illusion, taking it upon himself to tell Iphigenia her fate. In this the tragic hero is the beloved son of ethics, in whom she is well pleased. If he remains silent, it may be because by doing so he makes it easier for others, or it could also be because it makes it easier for himself. But the tragic hero knows he is free of the latter incentive. In keeping silent here he would be assuming responsibility as an individual, inasmuch as he is impervious to any argument from outside. But this, as tragic hero, he cannot do; for it is just in so far as he continues to express the universal that ethics loves him. His heroic action requires courage, but part of that courage is that he shirks no argument. Now tears, certainly, are a terrible argumentum ad hominem, and there are no doubt those whom nothing else touches but who can still be stirred by tears. The play lets Iphigenia weep, in fact like Jephthah's daughter she should have been allowed two months to weep, not in solitude but at her father's feet, to use all her art 'which is but tears', and twine herself instead of the olive branch about his knees (cf. v. 1224). Aesthetics required disclosure but availed itself of a coincidence; ethics required disclosure and found satisfaction in the tragic hero.

For all the strictness of the ethical requirement of disclosure, it cannot be denied that secrecy and silence, as determinants of inner feeling, really make for greatness in a man. When Amor leaves Psyche he says to her, 'You will give birth to a child who will be divine if you say nothing, but human if you betray the secret.' The tragic hero, the darling of ethics, is a purely human being, and he is someone I can understand, someone all of whose undertakings are in the open. If I go further I always run up against the paradox, the divine and the demonic; for silence is both of these. It is the demon's lure, and the more silent one keeps the more terrible the demon becomes; but silence is also divinity's communion with the individual.

Before coming back to the story of Abraham, however, I would like to present some poetic personages. By exercising the power of dialectic over them I shall keep them at extremes, and by waving the scourge of despair over them I should prevent them from standing still, so that in their anguish they might perhaps bring something or other to light.【6】

Aristotle tells in his Politics of a political disturbance in Delphi, arising from a marriage. The bridegroom, for whom the augurs had predicted a misfortune as a result of his forthcoming marriage, at the crucial moment, when he is to fetch the bride, suddenly changes his plans — he won't go through with the wedding. That is all I need.【7】 In Delphi this surely did not pass off without tears. If a poet took it up he could doubtless count on arousing sympathy. Is it not terrible that the love so often excluded in life should here also be deprived of the aid of heaven? Isn't the old proverb that marriages are made in heaven here put to shame? Usually it is the trials and tribulations of finitude which, like evil spirits, would separate the lovers, while love itself has heaven on its side and this holy alliance overwhelms all foes. Here it is heaven itself that separates what heaven, after all, has joined together. Who would have guessed? The young bride least of all. A moment earlier she was sitting in her room in all her beauty, and the sweet young maids had adorned her with such care that they would be prepared to justify their handiwork before the whole world, that it gave them more than happiness, it even made them envious — yes, even happy that they couldn't be even more envious, since she could not have been more beautiful. Sitting there alone in her room she was then transfigured from one beauty to another; for all that a woman's art could accomplish had been turned virtuously to the embellishment of virtue. But there still lacked something the young girl had not dreamed of, a veil, finer, lighter, and yet more concealing than the one in which the young maids had enveloped her, a bridal gown no maid had knowledge of or could help her with, even the bride herself did not know how to put it on. It was an unseen, friendly influence which takes satisfaction in adorning a bride and wraps itself around her without her knowledge, for all she saw was the bridegroom walking by on his way to the temple. She saw the door close after him, and she became even more calm and blissful, for she knew that he now belonged to her more than ever. The temple door opened, he stepped out, but demurely she turned her gaze down and so did not see that his face was troubled. Yet he saw that heaven must be jealous of the bride's loveliness and of his good fortune. The temple door opened, the young maids saw the bridegroom step out, but they did not see that his face was troubled, for they were busy about bringing the bride. Then she came forward in all her maidenly modesty, and yet like a mistress surrounded by her cortege of young maids of honour, who curtsied before her as a young maid always curtsies before a bride. Thus at the head of her lovely troupe she stood and waited — it was but a moment, for the temple was close by — and the bridegroom came, but he passed by her door.

But here I break off. I am not a poet, I only practise dialectics. One should note first of all that it is at the crucial moment that the hero learns what is in store, so he is pure and blameless, hasn't bound himself irresponsibly to the loved one. Second, it is a divine utterance he has before him, or rather against him, so he is not ruled like those feeble lovers and sweethearts by conceit. Further, it goes without saying that this utterance makes him just as unhappy as the bride, indeed rather more so since after all he is the occasion. True, the augurs only predicted a misfortune for him, but the question is whether the misfortune is not of such a nature as to affect also their marital happiness. So what is he to do? (I) Is he to remain silent and get married and think 'Perhaps the misfortune won't come right away, and anyway I have been true to my love and not afraid to make myself unhappy; but I must remain silent, otherwise even the brief moment is lost.' This sounds plausible but is in fact by no means so, for in this he insults the girl. By keeping silent he has in a way made her guilty, for had she known the truth she would never have given her consent to such a union. So in the hour of need he will have to bear not only the misfortune but also the responsibility for not having said anything, as well as her righteous anger at his not having said anything. (2) Is he to remain silent and not get married? In that case he must enter into a deception in which he annihilates himself in his relation to her. Aesthetics might approve of this. The catastrophe could then be fashioned as in the real story except that at the last moment there would be explanations, though too late since aesthetically it will be necessary to let him die, unless that discipline can see its way to revoking the fateful prophecy. Yet, noble as this conduct may be, it involves an insult to the girl and the reality of her love. (3) Is he to speak? Naturally one mustn't forget that our hero is a little too poetic for the giving up of his love to have no importance except as an unsuccessful business venture. If he speaks, then the whole thing becomes an unfortunate love-story in the vein of Axel and Valborg. They will be a couple whom heaven itself puts asunder. Nevertheless in the present case this separation is to be conceived somewhat differently, since it, too, is also the result of the free acts of the individuals. For what is so very difficult with the dialectic in this case is that the misfortune is to affect only him. These two, then, do not find a common expression of their suffering, as do Axel and Valborg, whom heaven separates equally from each other because they are equally close to each other.【8】 If that were the case here, a way out could be found. For since heaven uses no visible power to separate them, but leaves it to them, one could well imagine that they ended united in defiance of heaven together with its misfortune.

Ethics, however, will require him to speak. The essence of his valour in that case is to be found in his giving up his aesthetic high-mindedness, which here could hardly be thought to contain any admixture of the vanity connected with concealment, since it must be clear to him that he still makes the girl unhappy. The reality of this heroism is based, however, on its having had and cancelled its presupposition [that he genuinely loved her and kept quiet for her sake and not his — translator's addition]; for otherwise we would get heroes enough, particularly in our own time which has acquired a matchless proficiency in the forgery that does the highest by skipping over what lies in between.

But why this sketch if I nevertheless come no further than the tragic hero? Because it might still throw light on the paradox. That all depends on our hero's relationship to that utterance of the augur's, which in one way or another is going to decide the course of his life. Is this utterance publici juris [public property] or is it a privatissimum [private matter]? The scene is laid in Greece; an augur's utterance is intelligible to all — I don't mean just in the sense that the individual can grasp the content lexically, but that the individual can understand that what an augur is conveying to him is a decision of heaven's. So the augur's utterance is intelligible not just to the hero but to everyone and results in no private relation to the divine. Turn where he will, what was prophesied will happen, and neither by doing anything nor by refraining from doing anything will he come into a closer relationship with the divine, become an object either of divine mercy or of divine wrath. The outcome will be as understandable to anyone as to the hero, and there is no secret writing that only the hero can read. So should he want to speak he can perfectly well do so, for he can make himself understood; and if he wants to remain silent it is because he wants, by virtue of being the single individual, to be higher than the universal, wants to delude himself with all manner of phantasies about how she will soon forget this sorrow, etc. On the other hand, if the will of heaven had not been announced to him by an augur, if it had been made known to him in some quite private way, if it had placed itself in a quite private relationship to him, then we are with the paradox — supposing there is such a thing (since my reflections here have the form of a dilemma) — then he could not speak however much he might wish to. He would not enjoy his own silence but suffer the pain, yet for him just this would be the assurance he needed that he did right. So the reason for his silence would not be a wish to place himself as the single individual in an absolute relation to the universal, but to be placed as the single individual in an absolute relationship to the absolute. In this, so far as I can tell, he would also be able to find repose, whereas the requirements of the ethical would be constantly disturbing his high-minded silence. One only wishes that aesthetics might try to start where for so many years it has ended, with the illusion of high-mindedness. As soon as it did so it would work hand in hand with religion, for that is the only power capable of rescuing the aesthetic from its conflict with the ethical. Queen Elizabeth sacrifices to the State her love for Essex by signing his death-warrant. That was a deed of heroism, even if some private resentment had a hand in it because he hadn't sent her the ring. We know that he did send it, but it was held back through the malice of some lady-in-waiting. Elizabeth is said, ni fallor [if I am not mistaken], to have been informed of this, and sat for ten days with one finger in her mouth, biting it without saying a word, and then she died. That would be something for a poet who knew how to wrench open the mouth; otherwise it would be of use at best to a ballet master, with whom nowadays the poet no doubt too often confuses himself.

I now want to follow this by a sketch along the lines of the demonic. For this I shall use the legend of Agnete and the Merman. The merman is a seducer who rises up from concealment in the depths, and in wild desire grasps and breaks the innocent flower standing in all its charm by the shore, pensively bending its head to the ocean's roar. That is what the poets have so far made of it. Let us make a change. The merman was a seducer. He has called out to Agnete, with his smooth talk has coaxed from her her secret thoughts. She has found in the merman what she was seeking, what she gazed down to find in the depths of the sea. Agnete is willing to follow him down. The merman has taken her into his arms, Agnete twines hers about his neck trustingly and with all her soul she abandons herself to the stronger one. He is already at the sea-edge, bending over the water to dive down with his prey. Then Agnete looks at him again, not fearfully, not questioningly, not proud of her good luck, not intoxicated with desire, but in absolute faith, with absolute humility, like the humble flower she deemed herself to be; with absolute confidence she entrusts to him her entire fate. — And look! The ocean roars no more, its wild voice is stilled, nature's passion — which is the merman's strength — deserts him, the sea becomes dead calm. And still Agnete is looking at him in this way. Then the merman collapses, he is unable to resist the power of innocence, his element becomes unfaithful to him, he cannot seduce Agnete. He leads her home again, he explains to her that he only wanted to show her how beautiful the sea is when it is calm, and Agnete believes him. Then he turns back alone, and the ocean rages, but more wildly still rages the merman's despair. He can seduce Agnete, he can seduce hundreds of Agnetes, he can charm any girl — but Agnete has triumphed and the merman has lost her. Only as his prize can she become his; he cannot belong faithfully to any girl, for he is only a merman. I have allowed myself a slight modification【9】 in the merman. In fact I have slightly altered Agnete too. In the legend Agnete is by no means guiltless — and in general it is nonsense and sheer coquetry as well as an insult to the female sex to imagine a seduction where the girl is in no way, in no way at all, to blame. In the legend Agnete is, to modernize my expression somewhat, a woman who hankers for 'the interesting', and one such can always be certain there is a merman in the offing; for mermen keep a weather-eye open for the likes of these and they make for them like a shark for its prey. It is therefore very foolish to suppose (or is it a rumour spread abroad by the merman?) that socalled refinement protects a girl from seduction. No, life is more just and fair; there is only one means of protection, it is innocence.

We will now give the merman a human consciousness, and let his being a merman indicate a human preexistence in the consequences of which his life has become entangled. There is nothing to prevent his being a hero; for the step he now takes is reconciliatory. He is saved by Agnete, the seducer is crushed, he has bowed to the power of innocence, he can never seduce again. But immediately two powers claim control of him: repentance [alone] and repentance with Agnete. If repentance alone takes possession of him he remains concealed, if repentance and Agnete take possession of him he is disclosed.

Now in so far as repentance alone grips the merman and he remains concealed, then he must certainly make Agnete unhappy; for Agnete loved him in all her innocence, she believed him that moment when even to her he seemed changed, however well he concealed it, and said he only wanted to show her the beautiful calm of the sea. However, as far as passion is concerned, the merman himself becomes even more unhappy; for he loved Agnete with a multiplicity of passions and has a new guilt to bear besides. The demonic side of repentance will now no doubt explain to him that this is precisely his punishment, and the more it torments him the better.

If he gives in to this demonic possibility, he may make one more attempt to save Agnete, in the way one can in a sense save someone by resort to evil. He knows Agnete loves him. If he can only tear this love away from her she will in a way be saved. But how to do that? The merman has too much sense to reckon that a candid confession will arouse her disgust. Then perhaps he will try to arouse all dark passions in her, scorn her, mock her, hold her love up to ridicule, if possible stir up her pride. He will spare himself no torment, for this is the deep contradiction in the demonic and in a sense there dwells infinitely more good in a demonic than in a superficial person. The more selfish Agnete is, the more easily she will be deceived (only those with very little experience think it easy to deceive innocence, life is very profound and it is the astute who find it easiest to trick one another), but all the more terribly the merman will suffer. The more ingeniously contrived his deception the less will Agnete bashfully hide her own pain from him; she will use every means, not without effect, not, that is, to shake him loose but to torment him.

By means of the demonic the merman would thus aspire to be the single individual who as the particular is higher than the universal. The demonic has that same property as the divine, that the individual can enter into an absolute relationship to it. This is the analogue, the counterpart to the paradox we are discussing. It therefore bears a certain resemblance to it that can prove misleading. Thus the merman apparently has the proof of the justification of his silence that it is because of it that he suffers all his pain. However, there is no doubt that he can speak. So he can be a tragic hero, to my mind a tragic hero on the grand scale, if he does speak. Perhaps only few will understand what the grandeur consists in.【10】 He will then have the courage to free himself of all self-deception about being able to make Agnete happy by his art; he will have the courage to crush Agnete, humanly speaking. Here I will just add a psychological observation. The more selfish we make Agnete, the more effective the self-deception will be, indeed it is not inconceivable that with his demonic astuteness a merman might in reality not only have, humanly speaking, saved Agnete but brought something exceptional out of her. A demon knows how to torture powers out of even the weakest person, and in his way he can have the best intentions towards a human being.

The merman stands at a dialectical extremity. If he is saved from the demonic side of repentance two paths are possible. He can hold himself back, remain in hiding, but not depend on his astuteness. In that case he does not come as the single individual into an absolute relation to the demonic, but finds repose in the counter-paradox that the divine will save Agnete. (This is how the movement would have been made in the Middle Ages, for on its conception the merman has obviously dedicated himself to the monastery.) Or else he can be saved through Agnete. Now this must not be understood as meaning that Agnete's love might save him from being a seducer in the future (that is an aesthetic rescue attempt, which always avoids the main issue, namely the continuity in the merman's life); in that respect he is already saved. He will be saved in so far as he is disclosed. So he marries Agnete. But he must still resort to the paradox. For when through his own guilt the individual has come out of the universal, he can only return to it on the strength of having come, as the particular, into an absolute relation to the absolute. Here I will insert a comment which takes us further than anything that has been said anywhere in the foregoing.【11】 Sin is not the first immediacy, sin is a later immediacy. In sin the individual is already in terms of the demonic paradox higher than the universal, because it is a contradiction on the part of the universal to want to impose itself on someone who lacks the conditio sine qua non [the necessary condition]. Should philosophy, amongst its other conceits, imagine that someone might actually want to follow its precepts in practice, a curious comedy would emerge. An ethics that ignores sin is an altogether futile discipline, but once it postulates sin it has eo ipso [thereby] gone beyond itself. Philosophy tells us that the immediate is to be superseded [ophœvet, German aufgehoben]. True enough, but what is not true is that sin, any more than faith, is without further ado the immediate.

Everything goes smoothly so long as I move in these spheres, but in fact not even what is said here helps to explain Abraham. He did not become the single individual through sin; on the contrary he was that righteous man who is God's chosen. So any analogy with Abraham will only surface after the individual has become capable of accomplishing the universal, and now the paradox is repeated.

I can therefore understand the movements of the merman, but I cannot understand Abraham. It is to realize the universal that the merman has recourse to the paradox. If he stays hidden and dedicates himself to all the torments of repentance, he becomes a demon, and as such is brought to nothing. If he stays hidden but entertains no clever thoughts about being able to extricate Agnete at the cost of his own torment in the bondage of repentance, he will no doubt find peace but is lost to the world. If he discloses himself, lets himself be saved through Agnete, then he is the greatest human being I can imagine. It is only aesthetics which irresponsibly thinks it can praise the power of love by letting the lost man be loved by an innocent girl and saved thereby. Only aesthetics mistakes what it sees and thinks the girl rather than the merman is the hero. So the merman cannot belong to Agnete before, after making the infinite movement of repentance, he has made one more movement, that on the strength of the absurd. His own strength suffices for the movement of repentance, but it calls for absolutely all his energies, and it is therefore impossible for him by his own strength to return and grasp reality. If one lacks sufficient passion to make either movement, when one scrimps through life, repenting a little and thinking the rest will take care of itself, one has given up living in the idea once and for all, and then it is very easy to reach, and help others reach, the highest; i.e. delude oneself and others with the notion that the world of spirit is like Gnavspil [a card game], where everyone cheats. So one can amuse oneself by reflecting how strange it is that just in an age when everyone can reach the highest there should be such widespread doubt about the immortality of the soul; since even someone who has only, but genuinely, made the movement of infinity can scarcely be called a doubter. The conclusions of passion are the only reliable, i. e. the only convincing, ones. Fortunately life is in this case more kindly, more faithful, than the wise would have it. It excludes no one, not even the humblest; it tricks nobody, for in the world of spirit the only people who are tricked are those who trick themselves. It is the general opinion, and as far as I dare be my own judge, also my own, that entering the monastery is not the highest. But I by no means believe on that account that the fact that nobody goes into monasteries today means that we are all greater than those profound and earnest souls who found repose there. How many people are there now with the passion to think this thought and then judge themselves honestly? The very idea of thus taking time on one's conscience, of giving conscience time to search out with its sleepless perseverance every secret thought, so that unless one is making the movement every instant on the strength of what is noblest and most holy in a human being one can discover with anguish and horror,【12】 and call forth by anguish itself if by nothing else, the dark passions which after all lie concealed in every human life, whereas living in society with others one so easily forgets, so easily avoids, is in so many ways held above all this, gets the chance to start again — this very idea, grasped with decent respect, I would have thought could in itself chasten many an individual in this age of ours which thinks it has already reached the highest. Yet such things worry people little in this age that thinks it has reached the heights, though no age has fallen so much victim to the comic than ours. Indeed it is hard to grasp why it hasn't already given birth, by a generatio œquivoca [spontaneous generation], to its hero, that demon who will stage without scruple that horrifying play that reduces the whole age to laughter and to unconsciousness of the fact that it is laughing at itself. Indeed what more is life worth than to be laughed at when people have already reached the highest by the time they are twenty? And yet what higher movement has the age come up with since people gave up entering monasteries? Is it not a contemptible worldliness, a circumspection and pusillanimity that sits at the head of the table, cravenly making people think they have reached the highest, and even slyly dissuading them from trying anything less? A person who has made the monastery movement has only one movement to go, that of the absurd. How many nowadays understand what the absurd is, how many live in such a way as to have renounced or gained everything, how many are even simply honest enough to know what they are and what they can and cannot do? And is it not true that if there are such, they are mostly to be found among the less educated and in part among women? Just as a demonic person always reveals himself without understanding himself, our age betrays its own defects in a kind of clairvoyance, for it is always calling for the comical. If that was really what it needed then perhaps the theatre would need a new play in which someone's dying for love was treated as comedy. Or would it not be better for our age if that were really to happen, if it were actually to witness such an occurrence, so that it might acquire the courage to believe in the power of spirit, the courage to stop abjectly stifling its better impulses, stop jealously stifling them in others — with laughter? Does the age really need a ridiculous Erscheinung [appearance, show] of an enthusiast in order to have something to laugh at? Or does it not rather need such an enthusiastic figure in reality to remind it of what it has forgotten?

If one wants a scenario along similar lines but more moving because the passion of repentance is not awakened, one can use a story from the Book of Tobit. The young Tobias wishes to marry Sarah, the daughter of Raguel and Edna. But the girl is surrounded in tragedy. She has been betrothed to seven men all of whom have died in the bride's house. For my scenario this is a flaw in the story, since there is something almost irresistibly comical in the thought of a girl's seven vain attempts to get married, although so near success, as near as a student who fails his finals seven times. The Book of Tobit places the accent elsewhere and that makes the high number important and in a certain sense even contributes to the tragic effect. It enhances the young Tobias's high-mindedness, partly because he is his parents' only son (6.14), partly because the deterrent obtrudes the more strongly. So this feature must be omitted. Sarah, then, is a girl who has never been in love, who still nurtures a young girl's notion of bliss, her immense mortgage in life, her Vollmachtbrief zum Glücke [authorization for happiness] — to love a man with all her heart. And yet she is the most unhappy of all, for she knows that the evil demon that loves her will kill the bridegroom on the wedding night. I have read of much sorrow, but I doubt if anywhere there is a sorrow as deep as that residing in the life of that girl. Nevertheless when the misfortune comes from outside there is a certain consolation. If life fails to bring a person what would make him happy, it is still a comfort that he could have received it. But the unfathomable sorrow which no time can disperse, no time heal, is to know that it would be no use even if life were to do everything! A Greek author conceals so infinitely much in his crude naïveté when he says: 'pantos gar oudeis Erota epfugen i feuksetai mechri an kallos i kal ofthalmoi Bleposin' ['... for certainly no one has yet altogether escaped love, and none shall so long as there is beauty and eyes to see'] (cf. Longi Pastoralia). Many a girl has been made unhappy in love, but she became unhappy; Sarah was so before she became it. It is hard enough that one should not find the one to whom one can devote oneself, but unspeakably hard to be unable to devote oneself. A young girl surrenders herself to someone and then she is said no longer to be free, but Sarah was never free and yet never surrendered herself to anyone. It is hard enough that a girl should surrender herself to someone and be deceived by her love, but Sarah was deceived before she surrendered herself. What world of sorrow is not contained in what follows, when at length Tobias wishes to marry Sarah! What wedding-rites, what preparations! No girl was ever cheated as Sarah. She was cheated of the most blessed of all things, the absolute wealth which even the poorest girl possesses, cheated of the secure, unbounded, unfettered, unbridled self-surrender of devotion. For first there had to be the ritual of purification by placing the heart of a fish and its liver on glowing embers. And what a mother's leave-taking of the daughter who, just as she herself has been cheated of everything, must also cheat her own mother of her most beautiful possession. One just reads the narrative. Edna prepared the chamber and brought Sarah into it and wept, and she received the tears of her daughter — and said to her, 'My child, take heart. The Lord of heaven and earth may exchange your sorrow for joy. Daughter, take heart.' And now the moment for the wedding. We read on, if we can for tears: 'But when the door was shut and they were together, Tobias rose from the bed and said, "Rise up, sister, and we will pray that the Lord may have mercy on us'" (8.4).

Were a poet to read this story and use it, I wager a hundred to one he would place all the emphasis on the young Tobias. The heroism of being willing to risk his life in such obvious danger, of which the narrative reminds us once again, for the morning after the wedding Raguel says to Edna: 'Send one of the maids to see if he is still alive, so that, if not, we can bury him and no one will know it' (cf. 8. 13) — this heroism would have been the theme for the poet. I venture to propose another. Certainly Tobias acted gallantly, resolutely, and chivalrously, but any man who lacks courage to do that is a milksop who knows neither what love is nor what it is to be a man, nor what is worth living for. He has not even grasped the little mystery that it is better to give than to receive, and has no inkling of what the great mystery is, namely that it is much harder to receive than to give, that is if one has had the courage to go without and did not prove a coward in the hour of need. No, Sarah is the heroine. Her I would like to draw close to as I have drawn close to no other girl, or been tempted to draw close in thought to anyone of whom I have read. For what love for God it takes to want to be healed when one has been crippled from the start for no fault of one's own, an unsuccessful specimen of humanity from the very beginning! What ethical maturity to take on the responsibility of allowing the loved one such an act of daring! What humility before another person! What faith in God that in the next instant she should not hate the man to whom she owed everything!

Let Sarah be a man and the demonic will not be far away. A proud and noble nature can endure everything, but one thing it cannot endure, it cannot endure pity. Pity implies an indignity that for such a person can only be inflicted from above, for in himself he can never become an object of pity. If he has sinned he can endure the punishment without despairing, but to be singled out from his mother's womb as an object of pity, a sweet fragrance in pity's nostrils, that he cannot bear. Pity has a curious dialectic; one moment it calls for guilt, the next it wants to do away with it, and so to be predestined to pity is the more dreadful the greater the individual's misfortune lies in the direction of the spiritual. But no guilt attaches to Sarah, she is thrown as a prey to every suffering and on top of that has to be tortured by human sympathy, for even I who admire her more than Tobias loves her, even I cannot mention her name without exclaiming 'The poor girl!' Let a man take Sarah's place, let him know that if he is to love a girl an infernal spirit will come and murder her on the wedding night, then he would certainly be likely to choose the demonic, shut himself up in himself and say in his heart, as does the demonic nature, 'Thanks, I am no friend of ceremony and fuss, I don't at all insist on the pleasures of love, I can just as well be a Bluebeard who gets his pleasure seeing girls die on their wedding night.' One generally hears very little about the demonic, in spite of this territory's having a peculiarly valid claim to discovery in our time, and notwithstanding that once he knows how to establish a certain rapport with the demon an observer can, at least in some respect or other, use almost anyone as an example. In this respect Shakespeare is and will always remain a hero. That horrid demon, the most demonic figure Shakespeare ever portrayed, and did so incomparably, Gloucester (later Richard Ⅲ), what made him a demon? Obviously that he could not endure the pity that had been piled on him from childhood. His monologue in the first act of King Richard Ⅲ is worth more than all moral systems, none of which bears a hint of the terrors of existence and of their nature.

I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time

Into this breathing world scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them ...

Natures like Gloucester's cannot be saved by mediating them into an idea of society. Ethics really only makes fun of them, just as it would make a mockery of Sarah if it were to say to her, 'Why don't you express the universal and get married?' Such natures are aboriginally in the paradox, and they are by no means less perfect than others; it is only that they are either damned in the demonic paradox or delivered in the divine. Now people have been pleased to think from time immemorial that witches, gnomes, trolls, etc. are misshapen creatures, and it is undeniable that we all have a tendency when we see a misshapen person directly to link this idea with that of moral perversion. But what colossal injustice! It should really be the other way around. It is life itself that has corrupted them, as a stepmother makes degenerates of her stepchildren. To be put outside the universal from the start, by nature or by historical circumstance, that is the beginning of the demonic, and the individual can hardly be blamed for that. So Cumberland's Jew is also a demon notwithstanding his beneficence. Thus the demonic can also express itself in contempt for men, a contempt which it should nevertheless be noted does not make the demonic person himself act contemptuously; on the contrary his strength is his knowledge that he is better than all who pass judgement on him. — On all such matters the poets should be the first to make a stir. God knows what books our young versifiers are reading these days! Their studies are no doubt confined to learning rhymes by rote. Heaven knows what importance they have in life! Just now I couldn't honestly tell you whether they are good for anything but to give us edifying proof of the immortality of the soul, to the extent at least that one can safely say of them what Baggesen says of the city's poet, Kildevalle: 'if he is immortal then we all are'. — What has been said here about Sarah, almost in the style of a poetic production, appealing therefore in effect only to the imagination, finds its full significance if out of psychological interest one probes the meaning of the old saying: 'nullum unquam exstitit magnum ingenium sine aliqua dementia' ['there was never great genius without some madness']. For the dementia here is the genius's suffering in life, is the expression, if I may say so, of divine jealousy, while genius itself is the mark of divine favour. Thus the genius is disorientated from the start in relation to the universal and put into relation to the paradox, whether, in despair over his own limitation, which in his own eyes turns his omnipotence into impotence, he seeks a demonic reassurance and therefore will not admit the limitation to either God or man, or he reassures himself religiously in love for the divine. There are psychological topics here to which it seems to me one could happily devote a lifetime, and yet we so rarely hear a word about them. How is madness related to genius? Can the one be constructed out of the other? In what sense and to what extent is the genius master of his own madness? For it goes without saying that to some degree he is indeed its master, otherwise he would really be mad. Performing such observations requires, however, a high order of ingenuity as well as love, since performing observations on people of superior talent is extremely difficult. If one bears this in mind in reading some of those authors most celebrated for their genius, it is conceivable that one might just, once in a while, though only with great effort, find out something.

I would like to consider one more case of an individual wanting to save the universal by his concealment and silence. I shall take the legend of Faust. Faust is a doubter,【13】 an apostate of the spirit who goes the way of the flesh. This is how the poets see it, and although it is repeated over and over again that every age has its Faust, poets still doggedly follow one another down this same beaten path. Let us make a slight change. Faust is a doubter kat'eksochen [in an eminent sense]; but he has a sympathetic nature. Even in Goethe's understanding of Faust I miss a deeper psychological insight into the secret conversations which doubt has with itself. Nowadays, when indeed all have experienced doubt, no poet has as yet made a move in this direction. I could think of offering them Royal Securities to write on, to put down 'all' they have experienced in this regard — for it is unlikely that what they have to say will take more than the left-hand margin.

Only when one turns Faust back in on himself in this way — only then can the doubt appear poetically, only then does he himself genuinely discover in reality all its sufferings. Then he knows it is spirit that sustains life, but he also knows that the security and happiness people live in are not supported by the power of spirit but can be readily explained as unreflective bliss. As a doubter, as the doubter, he is above all that, and if someone wants to deceive him into supposing that he had put doubt behind him, he easily sees through that. One who has made a movement in the world of spirit, hence an infinite movement, can tell at once from the spoken line whether the speaker is a man of experience or a Münchhausen. What a Tamerlane could do with his Huns, Faust knows he can do with his doubt — frighten people out of their wits, make the very world shake under their feet, send people scattering in every direction, and cause the cry of alarm to sound from every quarter. And if he does that he is still not a Tamerlane, for having the warrant of thought he is in a sense authorized to act in this way. But Faust has a sympathetic nature, he loves life, his soul knows no envy, he sees he would be unable to prevent the landslide that would no doubt be set in motion, he has no wish for Herostratic honour — he remains silent, he hides his doubt in his soul more assiduously than the girl the fruit of her sinful love beneath her heart, he tries as well as he can to walk in step with others, but as far as what goes on inside him, that he consumes internally and in this way he makes himself a sacrifice to the universal.

Sometimes, when some eccentric raises the whirlwind of doubt, one hears the complaint: 'If only he had kept quiet.' Faust too represents this notion. Anyone with any idea of what it means to live on spirit knows also what the hunger of doubt means, and that the doubter hungers just as much for the daily bread of life as for the sustenance of spirit. Even though all the pain Faust suffers can be a fairly good argument for its not being pride that possesses him, I shall nevertheless avail myself of a small precautionary device which is easy enough for me to come by, who, just as Gregory of Rimini was called tortor infantium because he subscribed to the damnation of infants, might be tempted to call myself tortor heroum — I am very inventive when it comes to torturing heroes. Faust sees Marguerite — not after he has chosen the life of pleasure, since my Faust doesn't choose pleasure at all — he sees Marguerite not in Mephistopheles's concave mirror but in all her lovable innocence, and because his soul has preserved its love for humankind he can also very well fall in love with her. But he is a doubter, his doubt has destroyed reality for him. So ideal is my Faust that he is not one of those scientific doubters who doubt for an hour every term at the lectern but can otherwise do anything, as indeed they do without the help of spirit or on its strength. He is a doubter, and the doubter hungers as much for his daily slice of joy as for the nourishment of spirit. But still he stays true to his decision, is silent, and talks to no one of his doubt, nor to Marguerite of his love.

It goes without saying that Faust is too ideal a figure to be satisfied with the tattle that if he spoke he would only set a more general discussion in motion, or that the whole affair would blow over without consequences, or perhaps this or perhaps that. (Here, as will be obvious to any poet, lies the dormant comedy in our scenario, bringing Faust into ironical relation to those slapstick fools who nowadays chase after doubt, produce an external argument, e. g. a doctor's certificate, to show that they have really doubted, or take an oath that they have doubted everything, or else prove it by the fact that on their journey they met up with a doubter — those express couriers and sprint-experts in the world of spirit who in all haste gather a little hint of doubt from this person and a little hint of faith from that, and then wirtschafte [do business] as best they may depending on whether the congregation wants fine sand or coarse sand.) Faust is too ideal a figure to walk about in slippers. No one who lacks an infinite passion is ideal and anyone who does have an infinite passion has long since saved his soul from such rubbish. He is silent so as to offer himself — or else he talks, well knowing that he will put everything into confusion.

He is silent, so ethics condemns him. It says: 'You must acknowledge the universal, and you do that by speaking, and you dare not take pity on the universal,' This is something one should not forget when one sometimes judges a doubter severely for speaking. I myself am not inclined to judge such conduct leniently, but here as everywhere it is a question of the movements occurring properly. If things go wrong, then a doubter, even if by speaking he should bring all manner of misfortune upon the world, would still be far preferable to these miserable sweet-tooths who try a taste of everything and would cure doubt without being acquainted with it, and are therefore as a rule the immediate cause of outbreaks of ungoverned and unmanageable doubt. — If he speaks he confuses everything, for if nothing happens he only finds that out afterwards, and the consequence can be of no help either in the moment of acting or in questions of responsibility.

If he is silent on his own responsibility, he may indeed be acting magnanimously, but to his other pains there is added a little temptation. The universal will be forever plaguing him and saying, 'You should have spoken, how can you be certain that it wasn't after all some hidden pride that prompted your decision?'

If on the other hand the doubter can be the single individual who as the particular stands in an absolute relation to the absolute, then he receives authorization for his silence. But then he must make guilt of his doubt. But then he is in the paradox. But then his doubt is cured, even though he can acquire another.

Even the New Testament would approve such a silence. There are passages in the New Testament even extolling irony, so long as it is the better side that it is used to conceal. However, this movement is just as much a movement of irony as any other movement based on subjectivity's being higher than reality. This is something no one nowadays wants to know; generally people want to know no more about irony than Hegel has said about it, though curiously enough he had rather little understanding of it and indeed bore a grudge against it which our age finds good reason not to give up, seeing that for it irony is simply something it must guard itself against. The Sermon on the Mount says: 'But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face; that thou appear not unto men to fast.' The passage gives clear testimony to subjectivity's incommensurability with reality, indeed even to its having the right to deceive. If only those people who wander about these days with vague talk of the idea of the congregation would read the New Testament, they might come upon other ideas.

But now Abraham. How did he act? For I have not forgotten, and the reader may now be pleased to recall, that this was the point to which the whole preceding discussion was intended to lead. Not to make Abraham more intelligible thereby, but in order that his unintelligibility might be seen more in the round, for, as I have said, I cannot understand Abraham, I can only admire him. It was also mentioned that none of the stages described contained an analogue of Abraham, they were elaborated only so as to indicate, from the point of view of their own sphere, the boundary of the unknown land by the points of discrepancy. If there should be any question of an analogy here it would have to be the paradox of sin, but that again belongs to another sphere and cannot explain Abraham, and is itself far easier to explain than Abraham.

So Abraham did not speak. He spoke neither to Sarah, to Eleazar, nor to Isaac. He passed over these three ethical authorities. Because for Abraham the ethical had no higher expression than that of family life.

Aesthetics allowed, in fact demanded, silence of the individual when by remaining silent he could save another. This is already enough to show that Abraham does not lie within the circumference of aesthetics. His silence is not at all to save Isaac, as in general the whole task of sacrificing Isaac for his own and God's sake is an outrage aesthetically. Aesthetics can well understand that I sacrifice myself, but not that I should sacrifice another for my own sake. The aesthetic hero was silent. Ethics condemned him, however, because it was on the strength of his accidental particularity that he remained silent. His human prescience was what determined that he should be silent. This ethics cannot forgive. All such human insight is only an illusion. Ethics demands an infinite movement which requires disclosure. So the aesthetic hero can indeed speak but will not.

The genuine tragic hero sacrifices himself and everything he has for the universal; his action, every emotion in him belongs to the universal, he is revealed, and in this disclosure he is the beloved son of ethics. This does not apply to Abraham. He does nothing for the universal and he is concealed.

We are now at the paradox. Either the individual as the particular can stand in an absolute relation to the absolute, and then the ethical is not the highest, or Abraham is done for, he is neither a tragic hero nor an aesthetic hero.

Here again the paradox might seem the easiest and most convenient thing of all. However, I must repeat that anyone who remains convinced of that is not the knight of faith, for distress and anguish are the only justification conceivable, even though they cannot be conceived in general, for if they could the paradox would be cancelled.

Abraham is silent — but he cannot speak, therein lies the distress and anguish. For if when I speak I cannot make myself understood, I do not speak even if I keep talking without stop day and night. This is the case with Abraham. He can say what he will, but there is one thing he cannot say and since he cannot say it, i. e. say it in a way that another understands it, he does not speak. The relief of speech is that it translates me into the universal. Now Abraham can say the most beautiful things any language can muster about how he loves Isaac. But this is not what he has in mind, that being the deeper thought that he would have to sacrifice Isaac because it was a trial. This no one can understand, and so no one can but misunderstand the former. Of this distress the tragic hero knows nothing. In the first place he has the consolation that all counter-arguments have been done justice to, that he has been able to give Clytemnestra, Iphigenia, Achilles, the Chorus, every living being, every voice from the heart of humankind, every intelligent, every anxious, every accusing, every compassionate thought an opportunity to stand up against him. He can be sure that all that it is possible to say against him has been said, unsparingly, mercilessly — and to contend with the whole world is a comfort, but to contend with oneself dreadful. — He need have no fear of having overlooked something, of later having to cry out like King Edward Ⅳ at the news of the death of Clarence:

Who sued to me for him? Who, in my wrath,

Kneeled at my feet and bid me be advised?

Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love?

The tragic hero knows nothing of the terrible responsibility of solitude. Moreover, he has the comfort of being able to weep and wail with Clytemnestra and Iphigenia — and sobbing and crying give relief, while groans that cannot be uttered are torture. Agamemnon can rally himself quickly to the certainty that he will act, and he therefore still has time to bring comfort and courage. This Abraham cannot do. When his heart is stirred, when his words would convey a blessed consolation for the whole world, he dare not console, for would not Sarah, would not Eleazar, would not Isaac say to him, 'Why do you want to do this, you can after all refrain'? And if in his distress he should want to unburden his feelings and embrace everything dear to him before taking the final step, then this might have the most frightful consequence that Sarah, that Eleazar, that Isaac would be offended in him and believe him a hypocrite. Talk he cannot, he speaks no human language. Though he himself understood all the tongues of the world, though the loved ones understood them too — he still could not talk — he speaks a divine tongue — he 'speaks with tongues'.

This distress I can well understand. I can admire Abraham. I have no fear that anyone should be tempted by this story to want irresponsibly to be the single individual. But I also confess that I myself lack the courage for that, and that I would gladly renounce any prospect of coming further if only it were possible for me to come that far, however late in the day. Abraham can refrain at any moment, he can repent the whole thing as a temptation. Then he can speak, then all will understand him — but then he is no longer Abraham.

Abraham cannot speak. What would explain everything, that it is a trial — though note, one in which the ethical is the temptation — is something he cannot say (i. e. in a way that can be understood). Anyone so placed is an emigrant from the sphere of the universal. And yet what comes next he is even less able to say. For, as was made sufficiently clear earlier, Abraham makes two movements. He makes the infinite movement of resignation and gives up his claim to Isaac, something no one can understand because it is a private undertaking. But then he further makes, and at every moment is making, the movement of faith. This is his comfort. For he says, 'Nevertheless it won't happen, or if it does the Lord will give me a new Isaac on the strength of the absurd.' The tragic hero does at least get to the end of the story. Iphigenia bows to her father's decision, she herself makes the infinite movement of resignation and they now understand one another. She is able to understand Agamemnon because his undertaking expresses the universal. If on the other hand Agamemnon were to say to her, 'Even though the deity demands you as a sacrifice, it's still possible that he didn't — on the strength of the absurd', he would instantly become unintelligible to her. If he could say it on the strength of human calculation, then Iphigenia would surely understand him. But that would mean that Agamemnon had not made the infinite movement of resignation, and then he would not be a hero, and then the seer's utterance is just a traveller's tale and the whole incident a piece of vaudeville.

So Abraham did not speak. Only one word of his has been preserved, his only reply to Isaac, which we can take to be sufficient evidence that he had not spoken previously. Isaac asks Abraham where the lamb is for the burnt offering. 'And Abraham said: My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering.'

This last word of Abraham's I shall consider here a little more closely. If it had not occurred the whole incident would lack something. If it had been a different word everything might dissolve in confusion.

I have often pondered on how far a tragic hero, whether suffering or action provides the consummation of his heroism, ought to have a final remark. So far as I can see it depends on what sphere of life he belongs to, on the extent to which his life has intellectual significance, on how far his suffering or action stand in relation to spirit.

It goes without saying that at the moment of consummation the tragic hero, like anyone else, is capable of a few words, even a few appropriate words. But the question is whether it is appropriate for him to say them. If the significance of his life consists in an outward act, then he has nothing to say, since everything he says is essentially idle chat which can only weaken the impact he makes, while the rites of tragedy require on the contrary that he fulfil his task in silence, whether in action or suffering. So as not to go too far afield I shall simply draw on our nearest example. If Agamemnon himself, and not Calchas [the seer], had had to draw the knife on Iphigenia he would only have demeaned himself by wanting to say a few words at the last moment. Everyone knew the significance of his deed, the whole process of piety, pity, feeling, and tears was done with, and besides, his life had no relation to spirit, i. e. he was not a teacher or a witness to the spirit. If on the other hand the significance of the hero's life tends towards spirit, the lack of a remark will weaken the impact he makes. It is not something appropriate he should be saying, not some bit of rhetoric, but something that will convey that he is consummating himself in the decisive moment. An intellectual tragic hero of this kind should allow himself what people often aspire to frivolously, namely having and keeping the last word. We expect of him the same exalted bearing as becomes any tragic hero, but on top of that we expect some word. So if an intellectual tragic hero consummates his heroism in suffering (in death), in this final word he will become immortal before he dies, while the ordinary tragic hero only becomes immortal after his death.

Socrates can be used as an example. He was an intellectual tragic hero. He hears his death-sentence. That instant he dies. Unless you grasp that it requires all the strength of spirit to die, that the hero always dies before his death, you will not come particularly far in your observations on life. So as a hero Socrates is required to stay calm and at ease, but as an intellectual hero he is required to have sufficient spiritual strength at the final moment to fulfil himself. So he cannot, like the ordinary tragic hero, concentrate on keeping himself face to face with death; he has to make this latter movement so quickly that in the same instant he is consciously above that conflict and continues to assert himself. Had Socrates been silent in the crisis of death he would have weakened the effect of his life, aroused a suspicion that the resilience of irony was not, in him, a primitive strength, but only a game whose flexibility he had to exploit in the decisive moment, according to an opposite standard, pathetically to sustain himself.【14】

What I have been briefly hinting at here doesn't really apply to Abraham, to the extent that one supposes one might find by analogy some appropriate word for Abraham; but it applies to the extent that one sees the necessity of Abraham's fulfilling himself at the final moment not by drawing the knife silently but by having something to say, seeing that as the father of faith he has absolute significance in terms of spirit. As to what he is to say, I can form no idea in advance. Once he has said it I can no doubt understand it, even in a sense understand Abraham in what is said, yet without thereby coming any nearer him than in the foregoing. If we'd had no remark from Socrates I could have put myself into his position and made one, and if I couldn't do that myself, a poet would have managed. But no poet can reach Abraham.

Before going on to consider Abraham's last word more closely, I must first draw attention to the difficulty of Abraham's coming to say anything at all. The distress and anguish in the paradox consisted, as explained above, precisely in the silence; Abraham cannot speak.【15】 To that extent then it is self-contradictory to demand that he should speak, unless one wants him out of the paradox again, so that in the decisive moment he suspends it, whereby he ceases to be Abraham and brings to naught all that went before. Were Abraham, at the decisive moment, to say to Isaac, 'It is you who are to be sacrificed', this would only be a weakness. For if he could speak at all he should have done so long before, and the weakness then consists in his not having the maturity of spirit and concentration to imagine the whole of the pain beforehand but having pushed some of it aside so that the actual pain proves greater than the imagined one. Besides, with talk of this kind he would fall out of the paradox, and if he really wanted to talk to Isaac he would have to transform his own situation into that of a temptation. Otherwise, after all, he could say nothing and if he does so transform his situation he isn't even a tragic hero.

Nevertheless a last word of Abraham's has been preserved, and so far as I can understand the paradox I can also understand Abraham's total presence in that word. First and foremost he doesn't say anything, and that is his way of saying what he has to say. His answer to Isaac has the form of irony, for it is always irony to say something and yet not say it. Isaac asks Abraham because he assumes Abraham knows. Now if Abraham had replied, 'I know nothing', he would have uttered an untruth. He cannot say anything, since what he knows he cannot say. So he replies, 'My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering.' Here one sees the double movement in Abraham's soul, as it has been described in the foregoing. Had Abraham simply renounced his claim to Isaac and done no more, he would have uttered an untruth. He knows that God demands the sacrifice of Isaac, and he knows that precisely at this moment he himself is ready to sacrifice him. So, after having made this movement Abraham has at every instant been performing the next, making the movement on the strength of the absurd. To that extent he utters no untruth, for on the strength of the absurd it is after all possible that God might do something quite different. He utters no untruth then, but neither does he say anything, for he speaks in a foreign tongue. This becomes still more obvious when we consider that it was Abraham himself who was to sacrifice Isaac. If the task had been a different one, if the Lord had commanded Abraham to take Isaac out on the mountain in Moriah, and then let his own lightning strike Isaac and take him as a sacrifice in that way, Abraham would in a straightforward sense be right to talk as enigmatically as he did, for in that case he himself could not have known what would happen. But as the task is given to Abraham, it is he who must act, so he must know at the decisive moment what he is about to do, and accordingly must know that Isaac is to be sacrificed. If he doesn't definitely know that, he hasn't made the infinite movement of resignation, in which case his words are not indeed untrue, but then at the same time he is very far from being Abraham, he is less significant than a tragic hero, he is in fact an irresolute man who can resolve to do neither one thing nor the other, and who will therefore always come to talk in riddles. But such a Haesitator [waverer] is simply a parody of the knight of faith.

Here too it can appear that one can understand Abraham, but only as one understands the paradox. For my part I can in a way understand Abraham, but I see very well that I lack the courage to speak in this way, as much as I lack the courage to act like Abraham. But I do not at all say that what he did is inconsiderable on that account, since on the contrary it is the one and only marvel.

And what did contemporaries think of the tragic hero? That he was great, and they looked up to him. And that noble assembly of worthies, the jury that every generation appoints to pass judgement on its predecessor, came to the same verdict. But none could understand Abraham. And yet think what he achieved! To remain true to his love. But he who loves God has no need of tears, needs no admiration, and forgets his suffering in love, indeed forgets so completely that afterwards not the least hint of his pain would remain were God himself not to remember it; for God sees in secret and knows the distress and counts the tears and forgets nothing.

So either there is a paradox, that the single individual as the particular stands in an absolute relation to the absolute, or Abraham is done for.

注释

【1】 In olden days people said, 'What a shame things in the world don't go in the way the priest preaches.' But the time may be coming, not least with the help of philosophy, when we shall be able to say, 'How fortunate that things in the world don't go in the way the priest preaches, since at least there's a little meaning to life, but none in his sermon.'

【2】 Of course any other interest whatever in which an individual concentrates the whole of life's reality can, when it proves unrealizable, give rise to the movement of resignation. But I have chosen falling in love to illustrate the movements because this interest will no doubt be more readily understood and thus it relieves me of the need to make all the introductory comments which would be of direct interest to only a few.

【3】 This requires passion. Every movement of infinity occurs with passion, and no reflection can bring about a movement. That's the perpetual leap in life which explains the movement, while mediation is a chimera which in Hegel is supposed to explain everything and besides is the only thing he has never tried to explain. Passion is needed even to make the familiar Socratic distinction between what one does and what one doesn't understand; naturally even more so in making the genuinely Socratic movement, that of ignorance. What we lack today is not reflection but passion. For that reason our age is really in a sense too tenacious of life to die, for dying is one of the most remarkable leaps, and a small verse has always greatly attracted me, because having wished himself all the good and simple things in life in five or six lines previously, the poet ends thus: 'ein seliger Sprung in die Ewigkeit' [a blessed leap into eternity].

【4】 Lessing has somewhere made similar remarks from a purely aesthetic point of view. In the passage in question he actually wants to show that sorrow too can express itself with wit. To that end he quotes the words spoken on a particular occasion by the unfortunate English king, Edward Ⅱ. As contrast he quotes from Diderot: a story of a farmer's wife and a remark of hers, and then continues: 'That too was wit, and the wit of a peasant at that: but the situation made it inevitable. Consequently one mustn't try to find the excuse for the witty expression of pain and of sorrow in the fact that the person who uttered them was superior, well-educated, intelligent, and witty as well, for the passions make all men again equal ... the explanation lies in the fact that in the same situation probably everyone would have said the same thing. The peasant woman's thought is one a queen might just as well have had, just as what the king said on that occasion could, and no doubt would, have been said by a peasant.'

【5】 I will explain once more the difference in the collision as between the tragic hero and the knight of faith. The tragic hero assures himself that the ethical obligation [to his son, daughter, etc.] is totally present in him by virtue of the fact that he transforms it into a wish. Thus Agamemnon can say: this is my proof that I am not violating my paternal obligation, that my duty [to Iphigenia] is my only wish. Here, then, wish and duty match one another. Happy my lot in life If my wish coincides with my duty, and conversely; and most people's task in life is exactly to stay under their obligation, and by their enthusiasm to transform it into their wish. The tragic hero renounces what he wishes in order to accomplish his duty. For the knight of faith, wish and duty are also identical, but the knight of faith is required to give up both. So when renouncing in resignation what he wishes he finds no repose; for it is after all his duty [that he is giving up]. If he stays under his obligation and keeps his wish he will not become the knight of faith; for the absolute duty requires precisely that he give up [the duty that is identical with the wish]. The tragic hero acquires a higher expression of duty, but not an absolute duty.

【6】 These movements and attitudes could also be handled aesthetically. But I leave it open how far faith and the life of belief in general can be handled in that way. I will only — since I always like to thank those to whom I owe something — express my gratitude to Lessing for the few hints of a Christian drama to be found in his Hamburgische Dramaturgie. But he has focused on the purely divine side of that life (the consummated victory), and has therefore despaired. Perhaps if he had paid more attention to the human side he would have come to a different conclusion. (Theologia viatorum [wayfarer's theology].) What he says is undeniably very brief, partly evasive, but as I am always very glad of the chance of Lessing's company I seize on it immediately. Lessing was not just one of the most erudite minds Germany has produced; he was not just unusually exact in his learning, so that one can safely rely on him and his autopsy without fear of being tricked by inaccurate and concocted quotations, half-understood phrases taken from unreliable compendia, or of being put off-balance by a foolish advertising of novelties that the ancients have stated far better; he had in addition a most unusual gift for explaining what he himself had understood. There he stopped. Nowadays one goes further and explains more than one has understood.

【7】 According to Aristotle the course of the catastrophe is as follows. In order to avenge itself, the [bride's] family plants a vase from the temple among the bridegroom's household belongings and he is condemned as a temple-robber. But this is immaterial, for the question is not whether the family is clever or stupid in the manner of its taking revenge; the family is of only theoretical interest in as much as it impinges on the dialectic of the hero. Besides, there is fatefulness enough in the fact that, though intending to avoid the danger by not marrying, he plunges right into it, together with the fact that his life comes into twofold contact with the divine, first in the utterance of the augur and second by his being condemned as a temple-robber.

【8】 Here one might trace the dialectic movements in a different direction. Heaven predicts a personal misfortune due to the marriage, so he could just as well give up the marriage yet needn't give up the girl on that account, but live in a romantic relationship with her which was more than satisfactory for the lovers. This, however, amounts to insulting the girl, for in his love for her he doesn't express the universal, and it was the task both of the poet and of the ethicist to defend marriage. On the whole, were poetry to attend to the religious aspect and to the inner feeling of its characters, it would command themes of much greater importance than those it now occupies itself with. Here is the story poetry is repeatedly giving us: a man is stuck with a girl he once loved, or maybe never really loved because he has now seen another who is the ideal. A man makes mistakes in life, it was the right street but the wrong house, for on the second floor just over the way lives the ideal — that's what people consider the proper subject of poetry. A lover makes a mistake, he saw his loved one by candlelight and thought she had dark hair, but look, on closer inspection she was blonde — however, the sister, there's the ideal. That's what people think poetry is about. In my view any such man is an impudent fool who can be unbearable enough in life but should be instantly booed off the stage when he tries to put on airs in poetry. Only the clash of passion against passion provides a poetic collision, not this rummaging about in the particulars of the same passion. In the Middle Ages, for example, when a girl has fallen in love and then been convinced that earthly love is a sin and prefers a heavenly love, here we have a poetic collision; and the girl too is poetic, for her life is in the idea.

【9】 There is still another way of treating this legend. The merman does not want to seduce Agnete, even though he has seduced many previously. He is no longer a merman, or is if you will a pitiable merman who has now already for some time been sitting sorrowfully on the sea-bed. However, he knows (as indeed the legend has it) that he can be saved by an innocent girl's love. But he has a bad conscience about girls and dare not approach them. Then he sees Agnete. Already, many times, as he lay hidden in the reeds, he has seen her walking along the shore. Her beauty, her quiet self-possession captivate him; but his soul is filled with sadness, no wild desire rages there. And when the merman blends his sigh with the whispering of the reeds she turns her ear towards it Then she stands still and falls into reverie, more delectable than any woman and yet beautiful as an angel of deliverance, who inspired the merman with confidence. The merman plucks up courage, he approaches Agnete, he wins her love, he hopes for his deliverance. But Agnete was no quiet girl, she was in fact very taken with the roaring of the ocean and what pleased her about the sad sighing by the sea was that it made the roar in her breast grow stronger. She would be off and away, rush wildly out into the infinite with the merman, whom she loves — so she eggs the merman on. She scorned his humility and now the pride reawakens. And the sea roars and the waves foam, and the merman embraces Agnete, and dives with her into the depths. Never had he been so wild, never so full of desire; for with this girl he had hoped for his deliverance. Before long he became tired of Agnete, but her body was never found; for she became a mermaid, who tempted men with her songs.

【10】 Aesthetics sometimes treats a similar theme with its usual captiousness. The merman is saved through Agnete and all ends in a happy marriage. A happy marriage! Very handy, to be sure. On the other hand if ethics is to give the wedding speech I imagine things would go differently. Aesthetics throws the cloak of love over the merman and so everything is forgotten. It is also rash enough to suppose that things happen at a wedding as they do at an auction, where everything is sold in the condition it is in when it comes under the hammer. All it cares for is that the lovers get one another, the rest is of no concern. If only it could see what happens afterwards! But it hasn't time for that, straightaway it is in full swing again snapping together another couple. Aesthetics is the most faithless of all sciences. Anyone who has truly loved it will in a way become unhappy; while anyone who has never done so is and will remain a pecus [ox, or blockhead].

【11】 Up to this point I have carefully avoided all consideration of the question of sin and its reality. Everything has been centred on Abraham, and he can still be reached with the categories of immediacy, at least so far as I can understand him. But once sin makes its appearance ethics comes to grief precisely on the question of repentance. Repentance is the highest ethical expression but for that very reason the most profound ethical self-contradiction.

【12】 This is not credited in our serious age, and yet remarkably enough even in the typically flightier and less consistently reflective age of paganism the two representatives of the Greek gnothi sauton [know thyself] way of thought have, each in his own manner, intimated that if one probes one's own depths what one uncovers is first and foremost the disposition to evil. I need hardly remark that I am thinking of Pythagoras and Socrates.

【13】 If one would rather not use a doubter, a similar figure would do. An ironist, for example, whose sharp eye has taken radical measure of the ludicrousness of life, who through a secret understanding with the forces of life ascertains what the patient needs. He knows he commands the power of laughter; should he wish to wield it he would be sure of victory and, what is even better, of his happiness. He knows some voice is going to raise itself against him, but also that he himself is the stronger; he knows people can still be brought for a moment to appear serious — but also that, privately, they long to laugh with him; he knows that it is still possible to bring a woman for a moment to hold up her fan before her eyes when she speaks, but he also knows that behind the fan she is laughing, he knows the fan is not completely opaque, he knows one can make invisible inscriptions on it, he knows that when a woman strikes at him with the fan it is because she has understood him, he knows infallibly how laughter creeps into a person and dwells there secretly, and how once lodged there it lies in ambush and waits. Let us suppose such an Aristophanes, such a Voltaire, slightly altered, for he is also of a sympathetic nature, he loves life, loves people, and knows that even if a young, saved generation might benefit from the rebuke of laughter, in his own age for many it would mean rack and ruin. So he keeps silent and as far as possible forgets to laugh himself. But does he dare keep silent? Perhaps many will fail to see the difficulty I am referring to. They will probably consider it admirably high-minded of him to keep silent. That is not at all what I think. I believe that if any such person has not the magnanimity to keep silent he is a traitor to life. So I require this magnanimity of him. But if he has it he dares to keep silent. Ethics is a dangerous science and it may well have been out of purely ethical considerations that Aristophanes decided to let laughter pass judgement on his misguided age. Aesthetic magnanimity cannot help. Its account has no credit column for the taking of such risks. If he is silent he must enter the paradox. — Still another scenario: suppose, for example, someone is in possession of an explanation of a public hero's life, but one that explains it in a deplorable light, and yet a whole generation rests secure in this hero and has no suspicion of anything of the sort.

【14】 Which of Socrates's remarks is to be regarded as the decisive one can be a matter of controversy, since Socrates has been in so many ways poetically volatilized by Plato. I suggest the following: the death-sentence is announced to him, that instant he dies and fulfils himself in the famous rejoinder that he was surprised to have been condemned with a majority of three votes. He could have found no more ironic jest in some market-place flippancy or fool's inanity than in this comment on the death-sentence which condemns him from life itself.

【15】 In so far as there is any question of an analogy [here], the circumstances of the death of Pythagoras provide one. In his last moments Pythagoras had to consummate the silence he had always maintained, and so he said, 'It's better to be killed than to speak.' cf. Diogenes, 8th Bk. §39.

Epilogue

Once when the spice market in Holland was a little slack, the merchants had some cargoes dumped at sea to force up the price. That was a pardonable, perhaps necessary, stratagem. Is it something similar we need in the world of spirit? Are we so convinced of having reached the heights that there is nothing left but piously to believe we still haven't come that far, so as at least to have something to fill the time with? Is it this kind of trick of self-deception the present generation needs, is it to a virtuosity in this it should be educated, or has it not already perfected itself sufficiently in the art of self-deception? Or is what it needs not rather an honest seriousness which fearlessly and incorruptibly calls attention to the tasks, an honest seriousness that lovingly fences the tasks about, which does not frighten people into wanting to dash precipitately to the heights, but keeps the tasks young and beautiful and charming to behold, and inviting to all, yet hard too and an inspiration to noble minds, since noble natures are only inspired by difficulty? However much one generation learns from another, it can never learn from its predecessor the genuinely human factor. In this respect every generation begins afresh, has no task other than that of any previous generation, and comes no further, provided the latter hasn't shirked its task and deceived itself. This authentically human factor is passion, in which the one generation also fully understands the other and understands itself. Thus no generation has learned from another how to love, no generation can begin other than at the beginning, the task of no later generation is shorter than its predecessor's, and if someone, unlike the previous generation, is unwilling to stay with love but wants to go further, then that is simply idle and foolish talk.

But the highest passion in a human being is faith, and here no generation begins other than where its predecessor did, every generation begins from the beginning, the succeeding generation comes no further than the previous one, provided the latter was true to its task and didn't betray it. That this sounds wearying is not of course for the generation to say, for it is indeed the generation that has the task and it has nothing to do with the fact that the previous generation had the same task, unless that particular generation or the individuals in it presumed to occupy the position to which only the spirit that governs the world, and which has the endurance not to grow weary, is entitled. If that is the kind of thing the generation begins to do, it is perverted, and what wonder then if the whole of existence should look perverted to it? For surely no one has found life more perverted than the tailor in the fairy-tale who got to heaven in his lifetime and from there looked down on the world. So long as the generation only worries about its task, which is the highest it can attain to, it cannot grow weary. That task is always enough for a human lifetime. When children on holiday get through all their games by noon and then ask impatiently, 'Can't anyone think of a new game?', does this show that they are more developed and advanced than children of the same or a previous generation who could make the games they already know last the whole day? Or does it not rather show that those children lack what I would call the good-natured seriousness that belongs to play?

Faith is the highest passion in a human being. Many in every generation may not come that far, but none comes further. Whether there are also many who do not discover it in our own age I leave open. I can only refer to my own experience, that of one who makes no secret of the fact that he has far to go, yet without therefore wishing to deceive either himself or what is great by reducing this latter to a triviality, to a children's disease which one must hope to get over as soon as possible. But life has tasks enough, even for one who fails to come as far as faith, and when he loves these honestly life won't be a waste either, even if it can never compare with that of those who had a sense of the highest and grasped it. But anyone who comes to faith (whether he be greatly talented or simple-minded makes no difference) won't remain at a standstill there. Indeed he would be shocked if anyone said this to him. Just as the lover would be indignant if someone said he had come to a standstill in his love, for he would reply, 'I'm by no means standing still in my love, for I have my life in it.' And yet he too doesn't come any further, not to anything else. For when he finds that out he has another explanation.

'One must go further, one must go further.' This need to go on is of ancient standing. Heraclitus the 'obscure' who reposited his thoughts in his writings and his writings in the Temple of Diana (for his thoughts had been his armour in life, which he therefore hung up in the temple of the goddess), the obscure Heraclitus has said, 'One can never walk through the same river twice.'【1】 The obscure Heraclitus had a disciple who didn't remain standing there but went further and added, 'One cannot do it even once.'【2】 Poor Heraclitus to have such a disciple! This improvement changed the Heraclitian principle into an Eleatic doctrine denying movement, and yet all that disciple wanted was to be a disciple of Heraclitus who went further, not back to what Heraclitus had abandoned.

注释

【1】 'Chai potamou roi apeikadzon ta onta legei hos dis es ton auton potamon ouk embaiis.' cf. Plato's Cratyllus §402, Ast. 3rd B. Pag. 158.

【2】 cf. Tennemann Gesch. d. Philos. Ister B. Pag. 220.

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

译者导读
摘自前言
“澡盆故事”
From The Preface
A Tale of a Tub
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

澡盆故事

（英汉双语）

［英］乔纳森·斯威夫特　著

黄宜思　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

澡盆故事：英汉双语／（英）斯威夫特著；黄宜思译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3886-0

Ⅰ．①澡…　Ⅱ．①斯…　②黄…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②讽刺小品—英国—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4:I

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

乔纳森·斯威夫特（Jonathan Swift, 1667—1745），英国18世纪杰出的政论家和讽刺小说家，也是英国启蒙运动中激进民主派的创始人。他一生写了很多具有代表性的讽刺作品，晚年发表的小说《格列佛游记》在中国家喻户晓。《澡盆故事》是他的另一部代表作，在世界文坛享有重要地位。

《澡盆故事》是一部意义深远的杰出的讽刺作品，发表于1704年。在这部作品中，斯威夫特把矛头指向教会，同时对当时贫乏的学术、浅薄的文学批评和社会恶习也予以抨击。他通过三兄弟的形象淋漓尽致地讽刺了天主教会、英国国教和喀尔文教派。他讽刺这些教派都自认为是基督教的正宗，遵照圣经的指示行事，事实上却阳奉阴违。虽然斯威夫特本人是英国国教的牧师（在书中他对英国国教的批评尚留有余地），却能大胆地批评基督教徒的虚伪和无耻。《澡盆故事》是英国启蒙主义者批评教会的重要作品之一，也是斯威夫特第一部重要的文学作品，是他的成名作。

《澡盆故事》还可以说是斯威夫特最为晦涩难懂的一部著作，因此它历来受到诸多批评家和语言学者的关注和注解，这恐怕也是这部书享誉世界的原因之一。有西方学者曾揶揄说，斯威夫特之所以写这部书，目的就是为了让后人撰写揣测它的博士论文。为了降低中国读者阅读中译本的难度，我在这里不揣冒昧提出一些我对这本书的理解以及如何阅读的建议。

首先，书中的故事有一条主线，那就是上面提到的三兄弟违背父亲遗嘱对外套任意加工修改的故事，以及后续发生的一些事情。这条线索比较明白易懂，在这里就不多介绍了。

再有，除了这条主线以外，书中其他章节的内容显得比较零散，语言又很隐晦，读者在阅读过程中可能会遇到较多的问题，且难以将它们与那条主线融合。对于这部分内容的理解，历来有一种观点认为主要需要搞清作者开头的交待，也就是第一章所讲的内容。它对下文起着辐射和提纲挈领的作用。

在第一章里，作者提到三样木制的布道用具：讲道坛、梯子和巡回台。书中在介绍的时候称它们是“为那些愿意说个不停的演说家”准备的，而这正是这部分内容的主题：作者在书中主要讽刺的是说话的艺术。而且他对其中每一样用具的描写都有很深的寓意。首先，他在提到讲道坛的时候说到它的木头已经腐朽，能发出磷光，又说里面充满蠕虫，这其实是在影射登上讲道坛的牧师头脑充满蠕虫，所讲的“指引人走向光明”一类的道理不过如同朽木的磷光一般庸俗。

作者对梯子的描述与当时的社会风俗有一定关系。当时在绞架上绞死犯人往往能吸引大批观众，这就暗合了作者在这章最开头提到的要站在高处向听众讲话的说法，也有人认为这具有讽刺政治和宗教的双重含义。另外，当时的死刑犯通常在临刑前都发表“最后陈词”，而陈词的演讲稿多相互抄袭，而且有的在对犯人行刑之前就已印发，为的是让人群中靠后面的观众也能“听”清楚。作者下文所说的梯子上贴着海报等也都与此有关。至于巡回台，作者后来对它做过解释，说它指的是“江湖骗子”，这也有来由。当时有一些蹩脚产品的推销员经常站在凸出的台子上宣传和叫卖产品。

《澡盆故事》一书在1704年发表伊始就引发轰动效应，并引起教会的不满。于是斯威夫特借该书第五次再版的机会发表了一封“致歉信”。当然，我们知道像他这样的思想和语言大师是不可能真正“道歉”的，除了应读者要求对书中一些词语做了解释之外，他不过是借道歉之名，用他惯有的讽刺与“反语”的娴熟技巧，进一步深化他在书中的观点。

善用“反语”的技巧，也是后人对斯威夫特的重要评价之一，这一技巧在书中多有应用，他在书中也自称“所采用的是一种与从古到今任何其他血肉体系都截然不同的思维模式”。认识到这一点将有助于我们解读斯威夫特的思想。此外，这本书中许多类似的关联都比较隐晦，不易觉察。例如第9章的话题系由第8章引出；第11章提到的狗，使人联想到第3章对批评家的描述；以及结语中提到的缪斯和睡神，呼应第1章等等。

书中的有些文字游戏或许并没有太多深意，使用拉丁文也是当时的一种风气。作者虽有此意，但此书毕竟不是一本纯供消遣的书，同时考虑到作者所处时代的修辞特点，译文较多地照顾原文。由于原文本身十分晦涩，译文更难以做到面面俱到，疏漏也在所难免。考虑到书中的前后关系复杂，其影射所指比较含糊，因此译者加了一些辅助阅读的注解，希望读者在阅读时能够有所体会。

摘自前言【1】

现如今世上的慧眼极多，犀利的目光似乎令教会和国家中的权贵陷入巨大的忧虑。他们担心这些谦谦君子们趁着长治久安的当儿，从教会和政府的薄弱处下手，寻衅取乐。为避免此种情况，近来有人煞费苦心搞了若干计划，消磨那些严厉质询的棱角和锋芒，以阻止其对这类敏感话题刨根问底。他们已经将注意力集中到了一个计划上，且仍需要一些时间和金钱才能完成。但时间不等人，危险随着新知的涌现而不断增加，且全借助于笔、墨、纸（着实令人生畏），一有情况，不消一个时辰它们就变成各种宣传册和其他可供立即使用的武器弹药。因此有人提出，确有必要先考虑一套权宜之计，以在完整对策尚未成熟之前应对紧急情况。于是，几天前在一个庞大的委员会上，【2】一位远见卓识的观察家提出了如下重大发现——在船员中间有这样一个惯例，当他们遇到可怕的鲸鱼时，就会扔下一只空澡盆逗它，分散它的注意力，这样它就不会对船只造成破坏了。这一比喻马上就被神化，鲸鱼被说成是霍布斯【3】的利维坦【4】，它打趣所有多为干瘪、虚空、木讷、叽叽喳喳、循环往复的宗教和政府计划。就是这个海中怪兽，给我们时代的那些尖刻的睿智者提供武器弹药。而处于危险中的船只则很容易地被想象为它的对立面：国家利益。但是，如何定义这只澡盆却成了难题。尽管经过长时间的探讨和争论，它字面上的意思被保留了下来，并通过法令颁布说，为防止那些海中怪兽颠覆本来易于动荡的国家利益，怪兽需要通过一个“澡盆故事”【5】来分散它对猎物的注意力。看来我在这方面展示才智也还惬意，我有幸让自己卷入了这场游戏。

注释

【1】　本书早期版本的前言比较长，这里仅保留了其中第一段。——译者注

【2】　英国议会的一般性会议，斯威夫特曾多次指责其为党派自我标榜的现成发明。——译者注

【3】　霍布斯（Thomas Hobbes, 1588—1679），英国政治哲学家。其代表作《利维坦》（Leviathan）包括“论人”“论国家”“论基督教国家”和“论黑暗王国”四个部分。——译者注

【4】　利维坦是海中怪兽的名字，圣经中邪恶的象征。——译者注

【5】　英国人文主义者、政治家、作家托马斯·莫尔（1477—1535）曾用“澡盆故事”（a tale of a tub）一语来形容无聊的谈话。这一短语还曾被英国著名演员本杰明·琼森（1572—1637）和小说家丹尼尔·笛福（1659—1731）等人使用过。在作者所处的时代，澡盆的形状类似一只大木桶。——译者注

“澡盆故事”

第一章　缘起

无论谁要想在听众群中一呼百应，都必须不遗余力地往前钻、挤、拥、攀，以达到一个所有人之上的制高点。而在所有集会上，不论人们多么拥挤，我们总能观察到一个特有的现象，就是在他们头顶上仍有充裕的空间，但是如何到达那里却是一个难题。想要摆脱定数就像摆脱地狱一样难。

— evadere ad auras,

Hoc opus, hic labor est.【1】

对此，历代哲人的想法都是建造一座空中楼阁。但是，无论过去乃至今日的这种构筑物具有何种用途和声誉，包括在我看来带有几分谦恭的苏格拉底【2】为了冥想而用来装自己的吊篮，这些挖空心思的构想还是有两点不足。首先是基础太高了，高得连看都看不见他们，更不要说听见了。第二是所用材料的寿命太短，经不起风吹雨打。尤其是在我们西北这片大地上。

有鉴于此，为让这一伟大构想真正发挥功能，据我所知仅剩下三样东西。它们都是我们前辈们神奇的智慧结晶。他们认为，为了鼓励所有热心的探险者，应该为那些愿意说个不停的演说家准备三件木制品。那就是：讲道坛、梯子和巡回台。【3】至于围栏【4】，尽管它也是木头的，设计的用途也与前三者相同，但是由于它的级别或低下的地位，使用它会不停被同行打断【5】，因而无缘位列第四。木凳【6】也一样，无论它的鼓吹者如何强调它的地位和价值。因为，如果他们乐意认真研究它最初的设计，以及辅助设计的环境和附件，都会马上承认它如今的用途仍然与其原始构造完全一致，而且，从语源学上说，它的这两个方面也是吻合的，这个名字在腓尼基语【7】中就是一个意义非凡的词，其所指，按字面意思翻译，就是睡觉的地方。但是按一般理解，它指的是一个带有舒适长枕和软垫的座椅，很适合老迈并患有痛风的肢体：senes ut in otia tuta recedant【8】。感谢命运的安排，让那些人在这上面扯平。先是在他们侃侃而谈的时候别人睡觉，现在轮到别人絮叨他们大睡了。

但是，如果再没有其他任何理由将木凳和围栏排斥在演说器材之外，那么有以下这一条理由就足够了。那就是：将它们纳入其中显然会破坏一个数字，而这个数字正是我决心不论付出多么高昂的代价也要大书特书的。对此我模仿了其他许多哲人和大人物所推崇的审慎方法，他们在分类学方面的主要技能渐渐让他们对某个神秘数字产生了兴趣，使这一数字在他们的想象中变得神圣起来，以至于他们不惜强迫公理伦常为它让路，在自然界各个方面，通过给一些强行配对和任意驱逐另一些，让物种要么减少，要么组合，要么改变，只为了迎合这个数字。不错，在所有其他数字中，正是美妙绝伦的数字“三”寄托了我无限悠长的情思和经久不衰的兴趣。【9】在目前正在排印、下一季即将出版的刊物中，有我一篇对这个数字的颂词，我通过无可辩驳的推理，不但在“三”的大旗下简化了论证的常规和原理，还从它的两大敌手“七”和“九”那儿带回来一些逃兵。

言归正传，我要说的演说器具的头一件，不论从地位还是尊严上，都非讲道坛莫属。在这个岛国有若干种讲道坛，而我只青睐用苏格兰古木制成的那种。它非常适合这里的气候。如果它快要腐朽，那么不但传声的效果更好，而且还有见于下文的诸多其他理由值得一提。至于形状和大小，我所喜爱的完美型是特别窄的那一种，没有过多的雕饰。最重要的是，它不带顶罩（从古代惯例看，这应该是在所有集会上正常使用的唯一一种不带顶罩的讲道坛）。也就是说，由于与示众的颈手枷颇为相似，它会对人的耳朵产生巨大的影响。

至于梯子我无需多言。外国人一看便知，它是我们国家的骄傲，我们对这种器械的理解比其他任何国家的人都更为深刻。登上梯子的演说家抓住听众的不仅有和风细雨，还有在早期发表的讲话【10】中述及的整个世界，在我看来那真是英语口才宝藏的精粹。为此，我听说那位名人兼书商约翰·丹顿所搜集的忠实而苦涩的集子即将出版。那是十二卷对开本，还带有铜版印刷插图。这书的用途非凡，令人称奇，而且行业价值也很高。

最后一件演说器具是巡回台。它的搭建充满智慧，sub Jove pluvio, in triviis et quadriviis.【11】而且它还是前面两件东西的枢纽，演说者时而青睐其中一个，时而又青睐另一个，视它们受瞩目的程度而定。三者之间有严格、永久的联系。

从以上严密的分析不难看出，为了在听众中引起注意，确实需要一个优越的位置。但是，尽管这一点已达成共识，但其缘由却说法不一。在我看来，没有几个哲人对此找到了真正的、合乎自然规律的答案。而我至今所见的最深刻，经过最充分思考的解释是：空气是浓重的物质，因此，根据伊壁鸠鲁【12】的理论，会不停地往下沉。而当空气中又加载了话语的重量之后，下沉就会更快。至于话语，鉴于它能给我们留下深刻印象，因而也是浓重的物质。因此它必须从一个高处发出，否则的话，它既不能很好地到达目的地，也不能充分发挥功能。

Corpoream quoque enim vocem constare fatendum est,

Et sonitum, quoniam possunt impellere sensus.【13】

通过我平常的观察，我更乐于接受这一观点了。我曾多次观察到，在这些演说家的演讲集会上，所有听众都自然而然张大了嘴巴，仰头使之保持与地平线平行，并与从地心到天际的垂直线相交。有了这样一个姿势，加上如果所有听众挤得足够紧密，每个人在离开的时候就能把自己的所得全部带回家，少有或毫无遗落。

我承认，在今天剧院的设计和构思上，还有一些更为精致的东西。首先，正厅的座位区域是下凹的，比舞台低，正合乎我上面所做的分析推理。话语无论多么沉重，是铅还是金，都可以塞进一些批评者的嘴巴，我想他们也同样会自然地张着大嘴巴准备好了接受这饕餮盛宴。再有，包厢被设计成围绕正厅的圆形，高于舞台，为的是尊重那里的女士。因为她们在展现风韵和柔情方面的聪明才智，需要排成队欣赏，或者，围成圈自然更好。声色的妩媚，暗涌的狂想，通过她们轻浮的动作飘送至中间区域，然后被那里的人们用冷漠的理解定格或冻结。夸张的言辞，插科打诨，这些轻浮的话语自然飘得最高，最终将在屋顶消失。但是还好，幸亏那位有远见的设计师还为此设计了第四个位置，称为十二便士廊【14】。对于这里的人来说，那些话正合他们的口味，于是便贪婪地捕获它们。

然而，上述有关演说容器或接受器的半科学半逻辑学的推理还存在很可观的象征意义。它作为一个形态，一个象征，一个影像，一个符号，代表着作家这个大社团的共识，也就是他们必须通过这些途径使自己大大高于芸芸众生的凡俗世界。讲道坛夸夸其谈大英帝国现代圣贤的作品，仿佛是他们把常人的低级趣味和推理提纯并精神化了。其实质乃是前述的有关腐朽木头的问题。这有两方面原因，一是因为朽木的材质能照亮黑暗，【15】二是因为它的孔洞里充满蠕虫。【16】这就像一个有两个把柄的造型，很符合演说家所具备的两大基本素质。同时他的作品也有两种不同的命运。【17】

梯子是真实题材故事和诗歌的充分象征，一大批作家的出名都要归功于它们。说到真实题材故事，是因为……Hiatus in MS……【18】说到诗歌，是因为陈词的人的确是通过歌声perorare【19】的，因为在慢慢向上攀爬的过程中，命运必将在他们距离顶级很远的时候就唾弃他们【20】，因为这是与财产优先权转移有关的问题，还因为这是混淆meum和tuum【21】的问题。

在巡回台的下面摆着的则是一些用于取悦普通人的书籍，包括“六便士智慧”“威斯敏斯特【22】趣谈”“趣闻杂谈”“笑话大全”等等。由此可见，文丐作家以及有关文丐的作品【23】在近年来与时间的战斗中终于大获全胜，并修剪它的翅膀，剪断它的指甲，打磨它的牙齿，翻转它的计时沙漏，磨钝它的钩刀【24】，还拔下它鞋上的钉子。我的这部新作也正要斗胆以此名义推出，因为我刚刚有幸获得成为这个杰出的兄弟会一员的殊荣。

殊不知，我并非不清楚近些年来文丐作品是如何因诸多偏见而衰落的，也并非不了解两个后来发起的社交界是如何不遗余力地奚落文丐及其作品，把他们嘲笑为在智慧和学识的共同发展时代与其所处的地位不符的。他们自己的良心自然清楚我的所指，整个世界也不会是这般熟视无睹的旁观者，看不见格雷沙姆学会【25】和威尔咖啡屋【26】所做的努力，在我们的废墟上树立起的榜样和声望。但是当我们深思他们的行为，觉得既不正义，又不体面，且无责任心，又不合常理的时候，这对我们来说就是更为彻骨的悲哀，不论是在感情还是在道义方面都是如此。因为，世界和他们自己岂能忘记，更不消说我们自己是如何清楚详细地知道，这两个学术团体都是我们所栽培，我们所浇灌的？有人告诉我说，我们的两个对手最近联手提出了一比高下的倡议，并向我们发起挑战，想要从图书的重量和数量这两个方面比试一番。作为回应，我得到我们校长的许可，恭敬地提出两点意见：首先，我们说，这个提议本身就像阿基米德为一桩小事所提【27】的那样，没有实施的可能性。因为他们如何能找到有足够大刻度的衡器来比试第一方面，又如何能找到有足够计算能力的数学家来比试第二方面呢？其次，我们准备好了接受挑战，但前提是必须找一个与此无关的第三方，让他拿出不偏不倚的公平态度来判定每一本书、每篇论文和小册子最应属于哪个社团。这件事，上帝知道，目前还很难定下来。因为我们准备好做一个列有几千本书的目录，按理说，它们都应当冠以我们兄弟会的名字，但是反叛了的新派作家却背信弃义地提出其他名字。有鉴于此，我们觉得将决定权交由作者本人不大符合我们的审慎态度。我们的对手通过阴谋策划，造成我们的严重不和，我们中的许多人已逃向他们，而我们最亲近的朋友也开始独往独来，似乎不屑于与我们为伍。

我授权对这一无情的令人不快的话题所做的回应，仅此而已。由于我们极不情愿挑起这样一个如果持续下去必将会损害各方利益的事端，因而更希望友善地解决问题。我们将遵循我们的方针，只要这两个浪子回心转意，离开那些使他们沉迷的酒桌和娼妓——新近有迹象表明他们所研究的方向可能让他们沉迷于此——我们就张开双臂欢迎他们，并像娇惯他们的父母一样为他们祝福。

但是，我们社会的笔墨产品先前所得到的普遍关注（与尘世间一切短命的事物一样）存在的一个最大缺陷是当今在大部分读者身上的一条肤浅的静脉。这些人永远不可能透过事物的外表看清本质。这就好比说，智慧是一只狐狸，经过长时间的追猎，最终要靠发掘才能得到；智慧是一块干酪，越是浓缩的，就越密实、越家常、表皮越粗糙，而且，对于一个英明的盘子来说，有了蛆虫才越发好；智慧是牛乳加马德拉葡萄酒【28】，越是下面的越美味；智慧是一只母鸡，我们不能不关注它的叫声，因为那与鸡蛋有关；最后，智慧是一个坚果，需要你用智慧来辨别，否则它会崩掉你的牙齿，而你得到的却只是一条虫子。鉴于这些重要事实，文丐中的智者一直以来都倾向于将他们的知识和技艺用不同的文体或寓言包装起来，这与其说是真正的需要，不如说具有更多矫揉造作的成分。这样的运载工具，通常都是金碧辉煌的四轮马车，其表面的雕饰一时间让旁观者眼花缭乱，以至于无心关注或想象坐于其中的车主的情况。这是一个遗憾，尽管我们司空见惯。因为我们对待毕达哥拉斯【29】、伊索【30】、苏格拉底以及其他前辈的态度都是如此。

但是，应我的朋友们的一再请求，不让世界抑或我们自己继续受这种误解的困扰，我对我们社会最杰出的作品做了一次完整的、充满艰辛的专题旅行；它们除了具有用来取悦肤浅读者的美丽外表之外，深处还蕴藏着尚鲜为人知的所有科学艺术中最精致完美的东西。这是我十分愿意通过解扣或解索，通过汲取或解剖来展示的。

这个大部头是几年前开始动笔的，执笔人是我们中最为杰出的一员。他从《列那狐【31】的历史》着手，但遗憾的是，他既没有活着看到文章出版，也没有再继续这一如此有意义的研究。这实在令人惋惜，其实这是因为他所发现并与朋友交流的东西，如今已被广泛接受。我相信任何一位有识之士都毫不怀疑他的作品是人类知识的集大成之作，是我们国家所有奥秘的指南或启示录。但我的进度要快多了，已完成了几十部书的注释。我将从中挑选几条展示给公正的读者，以说明我的目的所在。

我着手的第一本书是《拇指先生》【32】，作者是毕达哥拉斯学派的哲学家，这部隐晦的著作讲到灵魂转世的整个轮回，【33】分析了各个阶段灵魂的演进过程。

其次是《浮士德博士》，由阿提庇乌斯【34】执笔。他是一位值得我们记住的博学之士，他在984岁的时候发表了这本书。这位作者的生命完全靠仙丹和通灵术维持，而浮士德和海伦【35】的婚姻则十分明显像公龙和母龙的躁动。

《惠廷顿和他的猫》【36】，作者是一位名为杰胡达·汉纳西的犹太学者。其中包含对耶路撒冷犹太教法典首卷的注释篇的辩护，以及对巴比伦的犹太教法典的注释篇的偏爱，这与平民百姓的观点是不一致的。

《乡下人和黑豹》【37】，这是一位在世的知名作家的代表作，旨在写一部完整的从斯科图斯【38】到贝拉明【39】一万六千名学者的简介。

《汤米·波茨》【40】，出自（据说是）同一作家的另一篇作品，作为附录补充于其中。

《愚人村的智者及附录》，这是一部极有教义的作品。它才思泉涌，对那些流传于英法等国家的现代社会知识和智慧提出正当的辩护，并抨击古代的假说、傲慢和无知。这位不知名的作者对此主题的分析之透彻，使有眼光的读者很容易感受到从此以后任何有关这一话题的争论都略显重复。最近，我们社会的一位精英人士发表了一篇有关这部书的摘要。

对于有见识的读者，以上介绍或许能让他对整个研究的结果有所了解或领略。目前我的心思和精力全都集中于此。如果在我临死之前能把这件事圆满完成，我就会认为一段不幸人生的有生之年总算没有虚度。不仅如此，实在说，这已超出我的奢望：从尽心服务国家而磨损的鹅毛笔，从对教皇制度的褒贬，从汤盆计划【41】、异己名单、被迫服从，从对生命和命运的问候、特权、财产、道德自由、给朋友的信，从被不断转变折磨得衰败不堪的理解力和理念，从一个被敌对派系无情摧残了一百多处的脑袋，从被痘疹折磨的身体（这些痘疹曾经鸨母和医生的恶治。而后来的事实证明他们是我和政府的公开敌人，为了他们的宗派争执而在我的鼻子和胫骨上实施报复）等等所有这一切中，我都不敢有上述奢望。在三朝统治期间我曾为三十六个派别写了九十一本小册子，但是当我发现国家再没有给我和我的笔墨以机会的时候，我很乐意退出，转而走更适合我的哲学家的路子。而让我感到心满意足的是，我度过的很长一段人生都是以不冒犯他人为准则的。

话说回来，读者的正直让我坚信，我所列出的简单书目可以轻松清除我们社会所有其他作品中显然由于嫉妒和无知所滋生出来的造谣中伤，说这些作品除了其中的机智和风格使它们具有一般的娱乐消遣功能以外，对人类别无他用。对此，我深信，迄今为止我们最精明的敌人也尚未提出过异议。我的这篇文章，在机智和风格以及更深奥离奇的方面，都是紧跟最受称道的原创的。并且，在它全部完成之际，经过缜密考虑和构思，我完全采用在现今我们社会特有的方式为它冠名。之所以取这样的名字，是希望它进入宫廷以及市井的一般谈话。

坦白说，我看到一些我十分景仰的作家，追逐时尚，把书名搞得十分复杂有趣。而我自己在标题命名上则比较自由。不错，书作为头脑的孩子，也像其他可人的孩子一样，理应得到洗礼和五彩缤纷的命名。而我们大名鼎鼎的德莱顿【42】甚至走得更远，不遗余力地引进了一批教父。【43】显然，这是具有更多优点的一大进步。但遗憾的是，这一值得称道的创新没能得到很好的培育，时至今日尚未形成普遍效法的趋势。果真如此的话，这位权威定然是首开先河了。我的努力也没有跟随这一有益现象。但是我很清楚，请教父往往要付出令人难堪的代价。这虽然只是我的想象，我却有充分的理由相信这一点。因为让我无法搞清症结究竟在哪儿的是，在我用全世界的思想和痛苦把我的文章分成四十份，并请求四十位我熟识的精英为我赞助的时候，他们却都认为这是需要慎重考虑的问题，并婉言拒绝了我。

第二章

从前有一个男人，他有三个儿子【44】，全由他的妻子一胎所生，分不清谁排行第几，就连助产士也分不清。这位父亲将死的时候三个孩子年纪尚幼。他在临死前把他们叫到病榻前嘱咐说：

“孩子们，我没有置办过也未继承得什么不动产，所以我一直都在考虑给你们留下点什么有意义的东西。经过慎重的考虑，我花钱给你们每人置办了一件新外套，就在这儿。我要告诉你们，这外套有两大奇功，一是如果仔细穿着，它可以一直不破不旧，伴随你们终生，二是它们可以随着你们的身体一起长大，增长增宽，永远适合你们的身材。来吧，在我临死前让我看着你们把它穿在身上。喔，很好。记住，孩子们，要仔细穿着，还要经常刷洗，保持干净。在我的这份遗嘱里有如何穿着和保护这件外套的详细说明。你们必须严格遵守，以免受到我列出的每一项疏忽或违反条规的惩罚。所有这些都与你们未来的命运息息相关。我还要你们真正像亲兄弟那样共同生活在一个屋檐下，和睦相处。只有这样你们才会兴旺。”

故事讲到这里善良的父亲就死去了。三个儿子便一同开始自主安排未来。

恕我不和读者絮叨在这以后最初的七年当中他们三位都有哪些经历，唯一需要提及的就是他们都信守了父亲的遗言，把外套保管得非常妥善。他们周游了几个国家，遇到过几个巨人，还杀死了若干恶龙。

说话间他们都到了成家立业的年龄，于是都来到城里，和那里的女人们谈情说爱，其中他们最为中意的有三位女性，在当时都享有很高声誉。她们是女公爵、女郡主和女伯爵【45】。在和她们第一次见面的时候，我们这三位冒险家遭到了极大的冷遇。三人睿智的头脑马上就猜到了其中的原由，于是通过学习这座城里的良好风尚，他们很快就有所改进。他们写书、集会、作诗、吟唱、交谈、不言不语。他们酗酒、斗殴、嫖娼、野宿、骂街、擤鼻涕。他们参加戏剧的首演，出没于巧克力屋【46】，殴打看守和警察，躺在货物上，获得喝彩。他们诈骗出租马车夫，拖欠店主的钱款，还睡他们的老婆。他们杀死镇长，把乐师从楼梯上踢下去，在财主家蹭饭，在赌场闲荡。他们谈论从未去过的沙龙，谈论与从未谋面的绅士一起进餐，装作与某公爵夫人耳语，其实一言未发；他们把洗衣女工随手写的字条说成高雅的情书；他们有意做出从豪门庭院走出的假象，其实从未进去过；他们在sub dio【47】受到皇室隆重接见；他们把一家公司的职员熟记于心，将其作为谈资在另一家公司高谈阔论。更主要的是，他们长期与那些在议院里沉默寡言却在咖啡屋里高谈阔论的议员团保持着接触，靠每天晚上拾人牙慧参与政见。他们还被一大群弟子包围着，争着抢他们的施舍。这三兄弟还学得另外四十项诸如此类的本领，毋庸一一赘述。其结果是他们成为城里最知名的才艺大师。但这仍然不够，上文提到的那三位女性还是对他们置之不理。要说清其中的原委，我须征得读者的原谅和耐心，且让我先说另一段重要故事，这是当时那位作家没有讲清楚的。

就在这一时期，出现了一个新派组织，其纲领声名远播，尤其是在上流社会的体面人中尽人皆知。这个组织崇拜一种偶像。这偶像，如其教义所言，通过一种制造工艺每天都能造出人来。他们将这偶像置于房屋的最高处，位于一个三英尺高的祭坛上，身姿与波斯皇帝十分相似，他坐在那里，双腿在身下交叉。此神的识别标记是一只鹅。【48】据此有学者推测，他的真身来自朱庇特神殿。在他的左面，祭坛的下方，地狱似乎正敞开着，以获取他创造出来的动物。为避免此种情况发生，他的几位牧师每隔一小时就将一些尚未被赋予生命的造物，或团块，有的甚至是已有生命的完整肢体扔进去，而那可怕的深渊立刻贪婪地将它们吞噬。这景象令人毛骨悚然，不忍目睹。那只鹅也位于稍逊一等的神圣所在，或称deus minorum gentium【49】。它前面摆放的祭品是一种每小时喝一次人血的动物。它在国外十分有名，据称是埃及猴科动物所喜爱的。每天有数以百万计的这种动物被宰杀，以满足此神的口腹之欲。那个偶像还被作为帆桁和针【50】的发明者加以崇拜，究竟是作为海员的守护神还是有什么其他神秘的名目，一直尚不十分清楚。

对此神的崇拜者还有其自身的一套信仰体系，所依据的基本原则如下：他们认为宇宙是一件大衣服，笼罩一切，认为地球被空气笼罩，空气被星星笼罩，星星被primum mobile【51】笼罩。看看我们地球上的世界，你就知道那是一件完整而时尚的衣服。那被称为大地的不就是一件绿色的精制上衣吗？那大海不就是它的丝光马甲吗？再看看万物的创造，你就会发现大自然的神工是如何雕饰恋爱中的植物的。再观察山毛榉的树冠是如何被漂亮的假发装饰的，白桦树又是如何穿上白缎子紧身上衣的。归根结底，人类自身何尝不是一件精巧的衣服，或带有各种装饰的完整套装呢？至于人的身体，那更是毋庸赘言，分析一下他们是如何获得思想的，你会发现他们全都是在按部就班地完成一件衣服。无需多言，难道宗教不是一件斗篷，诚实不是一双在泥土中磨破的鞋，自爱不是一件大衣，虚荣不是一件衬衫，良心不是一条裤子，虽然遮挡着淫荡和肮脏，却随时会因此种目的而滑落吗？

若这些postulata【52】都赞同，接下来我们就该分析那些被世人误称为套装的造物缘何成为真正最高等的动物了，或者，说得高雅一点，理性的动物，或人类。要说其中的原因，很明显，难道他们不是活的、会动的、会说话，还会从事其他一切与人有关的活动吗？美貌、智慧、风度和教养难道不是与他们密不可分吗？一句话，我们所看到、听到的都只有他们。难道不是他们在街道上行走，充斥于国会、咖啡屋、剧场和妓院？的确，这些被俗称为套装或衣服的动物，据一些文字记载，还有其他一些称谓。如果谁的服饰是一条金链，一件红色长袍，一根白棍，一匹骏马，那他就被尊称为市长大人。如果谁将貂皮或其他毛发装饰于某处，我们就称他为法官，如果谁能将纯亚麻衬里和黑缎子联系在一起，我们就称他为主教。

这一职位中的其他一些，主体虽然基本相同，但在一些细节方面更为精致。他们提出，人是综合了两套衣服的动物，其中的一套来自自然，另一套来自上天。也就是肉体和灵魂。灵魂是外在的衣服，肉体是内在的衣服。后者是ex traduce【53】，前者则是每天生成的外延。他们还通过经文对此予以证实，因为我们的存在、活动以及生命都发生于其中。此理同样可用哲学证实，因为他们所有人都在所有人之中，所有人也都在其个体之中。他们还说，如果将二者分开，将会发现肉体不过是一具没有知觉的令人厌恶的尸体。从各种征兆看，外在的衣服必定是灵魂。

这套宗教体系还有另外几条附属教义，令人津津乐道。特别是，人的思维也正是其中的佼佼者以此种方式演绎而成。刺绣是纯粹的智慧，镶金边是和谐的谈话，金饰带是巧妙的应答，蓬松的长假发是幽默，沾满粉末的外套是善意的玩笑——实现所有这些都需要足够的谋略和精妙的技巧，需要有远见的安排，以及严格遵循时代风尚的要求。【54】

以上对哲学和神学之精髓的扼要总结，是我付出大量心血、阅读和汇集古代作家思想的成果；所采用的似乎是一种与从古到今任何其他血肉体系都截然不同的思维模式，而所为并非仅仅取悦或满足读者的好奇；乃是为了令其对故事下文的来龙去脉了然于心，并了解在那久远的过去人们的处世态度和观点，这样才能更清晰地认识那时人们的所作所为。因此，我建议读者用极大的专注反复细读我的此番叙述。现在我且放下这一话题，仔细收拢故事的主要线索继续讲述。

鉴于上述观点的普遍流行，以及在宫廷和城市的所有高雅场所都奉为行动的准则，我们这三位冒险家在如此处境中有些不知所措了。因为，一方面他们所看中的那三位女士，我们前面已经提到过她们的名字，永远都处于时尚的最前沿，憎恶所有不及她们的人，认为他们一钱不值。另一方面，他们父亲的遗嘱又说得非常清楚，只要遗嘱上找不到支持或肯定的，不得在衣服上增加或更改一丝一毫，否则将受到严厉的惩罚。再看看父亲所留给他们的衣服，真乃是上好的布料精心缝制而成。其精细程度让人绝看不出任何缝合的痕迹。但同时它又十分简朴，几乎没有任何装饰。就这样，在他们来到城里还不到一个月的时候，肩章出现了——简直满世界都是肩章——没有配戴肩章就休想走近三位女士的ruelles【55】。“那个人没有灵魂，”人们会惊呼，“他的肩章在哪儿？”三位兄弟很快就从痛苦的经历中发现了他们的迫切需要。走在大街上横遭他人四十次的轻蔑羞辱；如果他们去戏院，看门人就会把他们带到十二便士区；如果叫渡船，船夫会对他们说：“我坐在前面。”【56】如果他们去酒吧，店员会大叫：“伙计，我们这儿不卖麦芽酒。”如果去见一位女士，在门口接待他们的男仆会说：“请留言。”身处如此尴尬的境地，他们连忙求助于父亲的遗嘱。他们一遍又一遍地细读，却始终找不到任何有关肩章的内容。究竟该怎么办？何去何从？——服从是必须的，但肩章似乎也非常必要。经过长时间的考虑，三兄弟中较为有学问的一个说，他想到了一个折中办法。确实，他说，遗嘱中没有提到肩章，totidem verbis【57】没提肩章。但是他推测其中包含类似的意思，或totidem syllabis【58】。这一解释立即得到其他二人的赞同。于是他们又开始在遗嘱中寻找。但是也许是晦气使然，整个遗嘱中连第一个音节也没有找到。沮丧之余，最初提议的那位兄弟又鼓起勇气说：“兄弟们，就算我们在totidem verbis和totidem syllabis都没有找到，但是还有希望。我敢保证，我们用tertio modo【59】，也就是totidem literis【60】一定能够找到。”他的这番话又得到另外二人的赞许。于是三人开始了新一轮的仔细寻找，果然很快就找到了S，H，O，U，L，D，E，R这几个字母【61】。但是有意和他们作对的晦气再次从中作梗，他们竟然找不到K【62】。这可把三人难坏了。但是那位挑头的兄弟（从现在起我们该给他取个名字了）又有主意了。他说字母K是一个新近出现的不合法的字母。讲究学问的时代都不用这个字母，古代文献中就更没有了。固然，他说，单词Calendae【63】在Q. V. C.【64】有人在书写时会用K开头，但那是错误的。在更为规范的正式文件里它都是以C开头的。因此可以说，在我们的语言里让“肩章”的“章”带有K这个字母是一大错误。因而从现在开始他会注意把所有的“章”字都拼写成以C开头。到此，所有的问题都迎刃而解——肩章明明白白是jure paterno【65】。于是我们这三位先生都戴上了最大最炫的肩章。但是，人的满足感持续的时间总是有限的，在那个追逐时尚的年代自然也不例外。肩章在风行了一段时间过后，我们必须承认它开始落伍了。因为从巴黎来了一位先生，衣服上装饰着五十码长的金饰带，完全符合当下月份的正宗宫廷时尚。于是两天后社交场上出现的所有男人身上都被金饰带包裹了起来。任何敢于不佩戴金饰带就出门的人都遭人厌弃，自然也不会受到女士的青睐。在如此严峻的情势下，我的三位骑士又当如何呢？他们在肩章的问题上已经有一个污点了，而在求助遗嘱这件事上，除altum silentium【66】以外什么也没有出现。但肩章毕竟是一个模糊的、轻微的、不确定的污点。而这金饰带则十分明显是一个未经允许的改动，aliquo modo essentiae adhaerere【67】。因此需要得到明文规定的支持。但是此时的那位上文提到的有学识的兄弟读了Aristotelis dialectica【68】，尤其是读了de interpretatione【69】精彩部分，教导读者要从某一事物以外的一切事物中寻找这一事物的意义。这就如同演说《启示录》的讲解员，对其文字内容虽然一窍不通却仍然可以成为先知。兄弟们，他说，要知道遗嘱是duo sunt genera【70】，口头的和书面的。不错，我们面前的遗嘱手稿上虽然没有提到金饰带，也没有与之有关的规定，但是si idem affirmetur de nuncupatorio, negatur【71】。还记得吗，兄弟们，在我们还小的时候，有一个人曾经说过，他听到爸爸的朋友说，他如果知道他的孩子在任何时候能得到足够的钱买金饰带的话，他一定会支持他们买。哦，上帝！另一个兄弟大叫起来，千真万确！的确是这样，第三个也随声附和，我记得清清楚楚。于是他们轻松得到了教区里最大的金饰带，行走起来的绅士风范大为光艳。

这样的时尚生活过了没几天，一种火红的绸缎衬里又出现了。布店老板很快就把衬里的样式送到三位绅士面前。尊敬的阁下，他说，我的康威殿下和约翰·瓦尔特先生都在昨天晚上用同样的布料做了衬里，明天早上十点以前我就能做好，剩余的布料连给我夫人做一个针垫都不够。于是三人又开始翻看遗嘱，因为眼下的事情依然需要得到认可。在正统作家笔下，衬里是外套的主体。他们找了很久也没有找到任何与此有关的现成文字，只找到几句父亲要他们注意防火的忠告，还告诫他们在入睡前要熄灭蜡烛【72】。这些内容，尽管目的明确，也非不言自明，但从整体上看还不具有构成命令的分量。因此，这位有学识的兄弟说，为避免更多的踌躇，并不让难堪的局面再度出现，我记得还曾见过带有附录的遗嘱，附录肯定是遗嘱的一部分，与之具有同等效力。现在我考虑我们面前的这份遗嘱，因为还缺少一个附件，所以尚不完整。因此我要在合适的位置巧妙地把它加上——对此我早有考虑——那本是我们祖父的看门人所写。谢天谢地，其中他讲了很多有关这种高雅颜色绸缎衬里的内容。这番话立即得到其余二人的赞同。于是按照遗嘱附件的技术要求，一卷老羊皮纸被附在了遗嘱上。绸缎衬里也就顺理成章地做上了。

次年冬天，镶边缝纫商协会雇用了一个演员，为的是上演一出新喜剧。他身上的衣服到处都镶着银边。自然，由于当地的良好传统，这很快就成为了时尚。这三个兄弟又开始在遗嘱中搜寻。而出乎他们意料的是，他们居然找到这样一段文字。文曰：我严格要求我的三个儿子不得在他们的所述外套上镶银边……违者将受到处罚。至于处罚的内容，因为过长恕我从略。一阵沉默之后，那位我们已经几次提到的博学的兄弟又发话了，他说自己很擅长批评，曾发现有一位不知姓名的作家提到，那份遗嘱里的“镶边”一词实际上还可以解释为“扫帚”。因此他提出，显然需要对这段文字增加注释予以澄清。对此兄弟中的一个却表示不赞同，因为按照语言的规范，“银”这个词在与之搭配的“扫帚”释义下无法正常理解。但得到的回答是，应该从神话和寓言的意义上来理解这个词。可他仍旧不同意，进而还解释了父亲禁止他们穿带有镶边衣服的原因——是担心这样显得不自然、莽撞。但不等他说完，那位兄弟就反唇相讥，指责他对神话出言不逊。毫无疑问，神话是非常有用和重要的，不应对其吹毛求疵或刨根问底。总之，此时父亲的权威已大打折扣。这一折中办法再次成为任凭他们把衣服镶满银边的合理依据。

过了一阵，一个古老的、沉寂多年的时尚又复活了，那就是印度妇女儿童的肖像刺绣。三兄弟都清楚记得，父亲一直都非常讨厌这一时尚。为此他在遗嘱里写了好几条，以强调他对刺绣的极端厌恶，以及他对自己儿子们违反此条规定的强烈诅咒。尽管如此，三个儿子的外套上还是不出几天就夸张地展现出了这一时尚。他们的理由是，刺绣的图案已和当年或父亲遗嘱所指的大不一样。此外，他们也并非在父亲严令禁止的意义上穿着它。因为刺绣是好的传统，对公众有巨大的好处，所以对遗嘱中的这些强硬条款显然需要做一些于我有利的解释，应该cum grano-salis【73】地理解。

由于在那个时代，时尚不断更替，这三兄弟厌烦了为层出不穷的破例不断找借口。于是他们下决心：哪怕冒再大的风险也还是要顺应潮流，三人经过商议，一致决定将父亲的遗嘱锁进一个结实的小盒子，带出希腊或意大利（究竟是哪一个记不清了），不再为研读它而劳神费心，只在他们认为适当的场合才提一下父亲的权威。结果没过多久又出现一种带有无数小斑点的衣服式样。其中的大部分点是银色的。对于这些斑点，有学者声称，ex cathedra【74】。而他们应该清楚记得，那完全是jure paterno【75】。确实，这一时尚所显示的比遗嘱中直接提到的内容更多一些。但是作为父亲的共同继承人，他们有权为公众利益，totidem verbis【76】，增加若干条款，哪怕这并不能从遗嘱的字面意思推导出来，否则multa absurda sequerentur【77】。有了这一规矩，在下一礼拜日他们来到教堂时，外套上都布满了小斑点。

我们上文多次提到的那位博学的兄弟，在整条街以及邻近的街道上成为首屈一指的学者，以后发制人闻名于世，并得到某位大人物【78】的垂青，还受邀到他家做客，并成为他孩子们的老师。在那位大人物死后，他正是靠一贯严守父亲遗嘱的做法，通过转让将其财产过户到自己及后代的名下。在他占有的领地上，他让乡绅靠边站，并让自己的两位兄弟接替了他们。

第三章　题外的话：关于批评家

尽管到目前为止我在任何情况下都尽可能仔细地、最大限度地效法我们时代杰出样板所倡导的写作规范和方法，但是记忆上的缺陷还是让我犯了一个错误。这着实令人不快，需要立即纠正，然后我才能继续故事的主要情节。我要为我们的好先生——批评家——说几句话，并对他们提出忠告、祝福和恳求。很惭愧，我承认，在我尚未交代这样一个必要情节之前就说了许多，真是个不可原谅的疏忽。为弥补这一点，恕我斗胆地先从我们通常所理解的这个词的由来和渊源入手对他们的人品和技艺做一简单综述，然后再粗略概括一下他们的过去和现状。

关于在今天的日常谈话中如此频繁出现的批评家一词，依我阅读古代书籍和文献的记载，有时分指三类各不相同的人。首先，它可解释为给世界或他们自己的发明提出规矩的人。这样一来，细心的读者就能对学者的作品有独到的见解，并对真正高雅、绝妙的精品形成自己的品味，还能欣赏每一种文体或风格之美，并将其与破坏美的败笔区分开来。在他们平常的阅读中，他们发现那些错误和缺陷，那些令人厌恶的、做作的、枯燥的和不相干的东西的谨慎态度，就像一个清晨走在爱丁堡大街上的行人，时时警惕处处小心沿路的脏东西。这倒不是因为他对那些污物的颜色或外观有什么特别的好奇，更不消说翻弄或把玩，而只是希望自己在走过去之后能尽量保持干净。看来这类人的态度尽管十分错误，还是从字面上理解批评家的，认为他们工作的主要内容就是赞扬和推卸责任，那些决心在鸡蛋里面挑骨头的批评家是像决心绞死一切前来受审之人的法官一样残忍的人。

其次，批评家还指修补家，他们保护古代经典不受虫蛀、污损和尘土的侵扰。

如今这两类批评家都早已见不到了。因此我也无须再为他们浪费口舌。

第三类最为高尚的批评家可称为“真正的批评家”，其渊源也尤为古老。任何一个真正的批评家都是生就的英豪，直接来自莫摩斯【79】和海布里斯的高贵谱系。他们生了佐伊勒斯，他生了泰格利乌斯，他生了大某某；他生了本特利、赖默、沃顿、佩罗尔特和丹尼斯；【80】他生了小某某。

而这一类批评家才是我们的公共福利社会有史以来获益无比巨大的一类，以至于出于对他们的感激和景仰我们把他们说成来自上天，与赫克勒斯【81】、特修斯【82】和珀尔修斯【83】等等这些人类伟大的观察者齐名。但是历史功勋再大也无法阻挡居心叵测之人的诋毁。因为有人提出，这些古代英雄虽因与许多巨人、恶龙和强盗交战而声名显赫，但是对人类来说他们本身都是比那些被他们杀掉的怪物更可怕的人。因此，为了他们的功德更加圆满，当所有怪物都被消灭以后，他们应该对自己也实施同样的裁决。正如赫克勒斯的大度而为，【84】给自己赢得了比他最好的同伴更多的神庙和景仰者。因此我猜想，许多人会认为，真正的批评家应该在自己的任务完成的那一刻，马上用鼠药或麻绳自裁，或从某个适当的高度跳下，这样才更符合公众认知方面的要求，而任何针对如此伟大的光辉形象所提出的指摘，都必然在其动作尚未完成之前就烟消云散了。

现在，从这种源自上天的批评及其名副其实的英雄壮举中，我们不难发现真正的古代批评家的具体作为。那就是，在知识的世界里徜徉，为猎取或发现其中蕴含的巨大的错误，像从山洞中揪出卡科斯【85】一样昭示其不为人知的谬误；像描述海德拉【86】的头一样夸张地演示它们，像把奥吉亚斯【87】的牛粪耙拢一样一个不落地收集它们；或者像驱赶某个心怀叵测的危险飞禽一样，它像贪吃树上的果子的斯廷法罗斯鸟【88】，正企图从知识之树上踩下最好的树枝。

以上分析将有助于我们对真正的批评家给出适当的定义。他们发现并收集作家的错误，这进一步准确无误地反映出，任何人如果查看所有那些古代批评家让世界荣耀的作品，都会立即从作品的线索和要旨中发现，作者们的观点相差无几，并且都犯有作家曾犯过的疏忽、混淆、遗漏之类的错误。再有，不论作品所谈论的主题如何，其想象力都充满并严重受到其他作品缺陷的影响，以至于其中最不好的东西也渗入他们自己的作品。这样一来，整部作品简直就像是他们给自己提出的批评意见。

在按照最崇高的、世所公认的意义大致讲完批评家的出身和作为以后，接下来我要反驳一些人的不同观点。他们以作者的沉默和默认为反驳理由，伪称批评家如今所采用的艺术手法，以及我这里所说的，都是现代的事情。因而大英帝国和法国的批评家并不具备我所描述的那般光荣的历史出身。那么，如果我可以澄清，我要说恰恰相反，正是古代作家所描述的真正批评家的人品和职业操守，与我所给出的定义十分吻合，那些人提出的作家沉默的严厉反驳，也站不住脚。

坦白说，对这一普遍的错误在很长时间以来我负有一部分责任，对此如果不通过我们高尚的现代人的帮助，我就永远不能推卸责任。为改善我的思想和国家的利益，我不分昼夜地刻苦研读他们的颇有教益的作品，通过不懈的努力，我做了很多关于古人薄弱方面的有益研究，最后得到一张完整列表。而且它无疑表明，其中所展现的古代精华都是由后来的作家发现并揭示的。【89】此外，那些古代作品所揭示的最了不起的发现，不论是艺术还是自然方面的，全系现代人超验的智慧发现。这些都清楚表明，古人值得称道的美德十分有限，对于那些待在角落里苦于与现代事物交流太少的人们来说，他们所表现出的对古人的盲目崇拜也可以休矣。充分考虑这些因素，以及人性的各个方面，我很容易就得出这样的结论：这些古人非常清楚他们的诸多不足之处，因而必定会在他们作品的某些段落里，努力通过讽刺或歌颂真正的批评家来消除、软化或转移读者挑剔的锋芒，而采用的方法就是模仿他们的大师——现代人。鉴于讽刺与歌颂都很常见，而我通过长期有效地研究前言和序言得到了很多有关的说法。于是我毅然决定通过细细研读最古老的作家，尤其是那些反映最远古时代的作家，来看看我究竟能从这两者的对比中发现些什么。这十分出乎我的意料，尽管他们都曾偶然有过作为真正批评家的特别论述，却总是受到恐惧或希望的左右，在涉及这方面话题的时候他们都十分小心谨慎，不敢超出神学和象形文字【90】的范畴。【91】我认为，正是这一点给了肤浅的读者以口实，要求作者对古代真正的批评家保持沉默。尽管错综复杂，为之分类却是十分必要和自然的，很难想象任何具有现代眼光和趣味的读者会忽略它们。因此我将从汪洋大海中找出几个实例，我深信，它们一定能无可争议地澄清这一问题。

很值得关注的一点是，在谈论这一高深莫测的话题时，那些古代作家都专注于类似的象形文字，只是出于爱好和智慧将其改编为不同故事。首先，保萨尼阿斯【92】的观点是，正确的写作完全归功于批评家制度。我认为，他的意思不外乎通过以下描写将真正的批评家一展无遗。他说，他们属于喜欢撕咬书中多余部分和赘生物的那类人，学者经过长时间研究这些书，从自己的角度发出警告说，要从书中剪除多余的、腐烂的、僵死的、枯萎的、畸形的枝桠。而他的这番睿智之见却源自以下寓言故事：阿戈斯【93】的纳夫普里亚人【94】看到一株被驴【95】撕咬过的葡萄藤生长得更好，结出了更多的果实，从而学会了给葡萄藤剪枝。而希罗多德【96】对同样的象形文字，却说出更直白的语言，几乎是in terminis【97】。他是如此大胆，竟然把批评家归于无知和邪恶之属。公然用我认为不能再直白的语言对我们说，在莱比亚【98】西部有一种有犄角的驴；对于此一说，克特西亚斯【99】也添枝加叶，说印度也有同样的动物。他还说，由于其他所有的驴都没有胆汁，而这种有多余胆汁的家驴肉特别苦，不能食用。【100】

看来古代作家不用直白的语言探讨这一话题的原因，是由于他们不敢公开将矛头指向如此强大、可怕的批评家。他们的声音是如此令人生畏，令所有的作家一听到连手中的笔都会掉落在地。于是希罗多德从作家的角度向我们讲述，锡西厄人【101】的一支人马众多的军队是如何在听到一只叛逆的驴叫声后在惊慌和恐惧中投入战斗的。从那以后，一些有深刻思想的语言学者便推断说，英国作家对于批评家的恐惧是来自于我们对锡西厄人祖先的恐惧。简而言之，这种恐惧是如此之广泛，以至于随着时间的推移，那些有心在描述若干时代的批评家时更自由公开自己观点的作家，都因感到以前的象形文字过于接近其真实原型而不得不放弃对它们的讨论，进而想出另外一些更审慎、更模糊的替代话题。出于同样的原因，狄奥多罗斯【102】也不敢多言，只说在埃利孔【103】的山里有一种奇特的野草，它发出一种危险的气味，会毒死敢于嗅它的人。而卢克莱修【104】也给出完全相同的描述：

Est etiam in magnis Heliconis montibus arbos,

Floris odore hominem tetro consueta necare.【105】

但是我们上文提到的克特西亚斯却比其他人更勇敢，他和与自己同时代的批评家相处惯了，因此很希望在身后留下至少一个他向这整个行当复仇的深刻印记。他的用意是如此昭然若揭，我简直弄不懂那些否认古代真正批评家的人是如何将其忽略了的。因为，假借描写印度的许多奇特动物，他写下如下深刻的文字：他说，有这样一种蛇，它同其他蛇一样没有牙，因此不能咬。但是它特别爱呕吐，它的呕吐物不论落到什么东西上，那东西都会立刻腐烂变质。这种蛇多见于出产钻石的深山，它们还时不时地排出毒液，任何人沾上这种毒液，大脑就会从鼻孔飞走。

古人中还有一类批评家，从分类上说难以与前者分开。但是从成长和成熟度上说，他们似乎是生手，或初学者。而正是由于他们职业上的这一区别，他们经常被认为自成一类。这些年轻学生的主要业务是经常去剧场，学习如何找出剧目的最糟糕之处，并将其记录下来，然后向老师做详细分析。就这样，他们像小狐狸一样在小范围的运动中成长起来，最后变得敏捷而强悍，能捕捉到大猎物。不论古代人还是现代人都承认，真正的批评家有个特点，与妓女和市政参议员都一样，那就是不会改变称号或本性。而年老的批评家自然也是从年轻时候过来的，他们的至善和成就也无非是年轻时就具有的才干的提高。就像大麻，尽管能收获麻籽，但有自然学者告诉我们，它不是好东西，会使人窒息。我对这种创作很欣赏，或至少我很喜欢它才思敏捷的前言，这要归功于那些年轻的从业者们，泰伦提乌斯【106】曾以malevoli【107】为题一再赞扬了他们。

毫无疑问，真正的批评家制度对于学问方面的公共福利事业是绝对必要的。因为人类的行当各有不同，就像地米斯托克利【108】和拥戴他的人，有的会拉小提琴，有的可以把一个小镇变成一座大城市。而这也不会、那也不会的人理应被踢出人类的行列。无疑，为避免这种处罚，第一批批评家就此诞生了。同时还出现了暗中诋毁他们的声音，说真正的批评家不过是个技工，为了自己的行当，像裁缝一样凑集了一堆廉价的材料和工具。还说批评家和裁缝在工具和才干方面确实有可比性，裁缝的痛苦就是批评家一本平常书的铅字，其智慧和学识是靠熨斗来展示的。并说，造就一个学者需要多少批评家，造就一个人就需要多少裁缝。他们还说批评家和裁缝都同样大胆，他们使用的工具也基本上是一样的尺寸等等。对于这样的不实之辞可以有多种回敬。我可以首先肯定它是一种污蔑。恰恰相反，要想和批评家脱离干系所付出的代价，比和你所能想到的其他任何人脱离干系都高，这是不争的事实。就好比作为一个真正的乞丐，有钱的候选人们施舍的每一个银币都是他的价值，而在真正成为批评家之前，却要花费一个人思想中的所有好品质。对于吃亏的交易来说，这可以说是无心议价。

在用了如此长的篇幅求证批评的历史，及其原始状态之后，我要分析一下这个领域的现状，并展示它和它古老的过去是多么一致。有一位作家，他的作品在很多年前就全部失传了。他在书的第五卷第八章提到了批评家，说他们的作品就是学识的镜子。这句话，我按照字面的理解，作者的意思肯定是，不论谁要想成为完美的作家，必须注意看批评家的书，以它为鉴修改自己的作品，就像照镜子一样。现在无论谁只要想到古代的镜子是黄铜制成的，并且sine mercurio【109】，就会立刻将其适用现代真正批评家的两大品质，并且必然得出结论说，它们一直是，并且必将永远都是不变的。即黄铜是持久的象征，并且，在它表面经过一定的抛光处理之后，就可以反映出前面的物体，而无需在其背面涂抹水银。批评家的所有其他本领无需一一提及，因为它们都包含于这两大品质之中，或可以归结于此。但是我要总结三句格言，它们即可作为现代真正批评家与假批评家区分的标志，也将大有裨益于那些致力于这一有用而光荣的事业的杰出人士。

第一点是，与其他所有才学相反，如果批评意见在批评家的头脑中是第一时间形成的，它就被认为是最真实的和最好的。这就像捕鸟者总认为第一个目标最有把握一样，如果他不再找下一个的话，通常都会拿下第一个目标。

第二点是，真正的批评家具有游走于最杰出的作家之间的智慧，他们做出选择所依赖的是直觉。这就像老鼠寻找奶酪，或黄蜂寻找最好的果子。当国王骑在马背上的时候，他必然是这支军队中最肮脏的人，而那些向他献殷勤的人则是玷污他最甚的人。【110】

最后，真正的批评家在研读一本书的时候，就像一只在宴会上的狗，它的思想和肠胃都取决于客人丢下的东西。因此总是在骨头最少的时候才叫得最欢。

说到这里，我想向我的赞助人——真正的批评家——的致意可以告一段落了。并且这也可以弥补我先前对他们的沉默。也许我以后还将继续沉默下去。我认为我很值得他们作为整体将我玩弄于股掌之间。在他们的期待中，我将大胆继续我的前文已经欣然开头了的冒险故事。

第四章　“澡盆故事”

至此，我所有的努力和研究已将作为读者的你带到一个你一定听说过的大革命时期。上文多次提到的那位博学的兄弟自己得到了一所温暖的房子，于是他马上就对你趾高气扬了起来。除非好心的读者用你那高尚的襟怀坦诚赞许一番他的想法，否则我担心从此以后你即使遇见他也不知道他就是故事的主角。他的角色、他的服饰以及他的态度都发生了巨大的改变。

他告诉他的两个弟兄，他希望他们知道，他是大哥，因此也就是父亲的唯一继承人。不仅如此，没过多久他就不许他们叫他哥哥了，而要叫他彼得先生。过了一阵他又要求他们称他彼得老人，再后来又要他们称他为彼得老爷。为了使这一伟大的称号名副其实，他很快又考虑到，如果不能找到一个比自己目前出身更好的背景，这个称号就难以维持。于是经过深思熟虑，他终于设法向策划兼艺术大师的方向发展，并在这方面大获成功，世上的许多具有现代时尚和现实用途的著名革新、窍门、机械等都完全归功于彼得老爷的发明。我将从这些发明中挑选最主要的几项加以描述，并不过多涉及它们的形成过程。因为我认为发明家们在这方面尚未达成一致。

我希望，如果我的这部作品被翻译成外语（我可以豪不夸张地说，我收集材料的艰辛，叙述的真实可靠，以及所谈问题对于公众的巨大效益，都将证明这是值得的），那么若干国外科学院的值得尊敬的院士，特别是法国和意大利的，就会欣然接受拙文所提供的普遍知识。我还要特别敬告那些最值得尊敬的师父们，也就是东方的僧侣。正是为了他们的缘故，我所使用的词汇和短语都极为适合翻译成任何一种东方语言，尤其是汉语。因此我在写作的过程中一想到整个世界或许都因为我的劳动而收获良多，就感到非常惬意。

彼得想到的第一个任务是购买据说是最近才在terra australis incognita【111】发现的一片陆地。他从发现者（尽管有些人怀疑他们是否真的去过那里）手上买过来这样一大片土地，价格非常合算。然后将它分成若干个州转手卖给一些经销商。他们打算往那里殖民，带了很多人前往，结果船在航行中遇难。于是彼得又把这片大陆卖给其他客户，就这样一次又一次地转卖，每次都获得同样的成功。

我要提的第二项任务是他至高无上的治疗虫子的方法，尤其是那些在脾脏内的虫子。【112】接连三个晚上，病人吃完晚饭后就不得再吃任何东西，只要他上床睡觉，就要小心地向一面侧身，当他感到累了要换到另一侧时，他必须同时把双眼限制在同一个对象上，没有明显的时机就绝不能两端一起放气。只要认真按照这个处方去做，虫子就会不知不觉地通过汗液排出，经由大脑升空。

他的第三个发明是建立一所耳语室【113】，为的是公众利益以及消除忧郁症或疝气之类的困扰。它同样也有益于所有窃听者、医师、助产士、小政客、反目成仇的朋友、念念有词的诗人、快乐或绝望的情人、鸨母、国王的私人顾问、侍从官、寄生虫和弄臣。简而言之一句话，它有益于所有充满太多的气不能不放的人。一头驴子的头被放置于十分方便的位置，以至于另一方可以很随意地让嘴和它的任意一只耳朵搭话：离耳朵要近，仅留少许空间，这样就能借助这畜生耳朵所特有的飘忽不定的能力，通过打嗝、呼气或呕吐收到直接的效果了。

彼得另一个非常有益的项目是为各种烟斗、现代狂热的殉道者、诗集、影子……以及河流办理保险。【114】保护所有这些都不会受到火灾的侵害。对此我们友好的社会可能很容易发现自己只不过是这些原文的誊写员，尽管对于行为人来说，两者中不论哪一个都对他十分有益，而且对公众也如此。

彼得还获得了木偶和西洋镜原作者的身份。由于其巨大的实用价值已众所周知，我就不再多说了。

他的另一项非常了不起的发明，就是那著名的万能泡菜【115】。他明确提出，家庭主妇们的日常泡菜除了给死肉和某些蔬菜保鲜以外，没有更多的用途。而他所研发的高投入、高技术含量的泡菜则可以用来保鲜房子、花园、城镇、男人、女人、孩子，还有牛。而且保鲜的效果就如同琥珀中的昆虫一般完美。目前这种工艺制成的泡菜在味道、气味和形象上，和家常的黄油、牛肉和鲱鱼没有什么区别，并且经常非常成功地得到应用。而要说它那些了不起的优点，那可就完全不一样了。彼得只需加入少许魔力粉，就会百分之百获得成功。这项活动要在月亮升起的适当时间通过喷撒实施。而腌制的对象，如果是一所房子，那它就绝对不会再受任何蜘蛛、老鼠、黄鼬的骚扰；如果是一只狗，那它就再无疥癣、狂犬病和饥饿之忧了。此工艺还曾百试不爽地用于去除孩子身上的疮痂、虱子和头癣，并且绝不妨碍对象正在做的任何事情，无论是在床上还是在台上。

但是，在彼得所有的保鲜珍品中，他最得意的还是一组公牛。其种群是那些看守金羊毛【116】的动物的直系后裔，得以非常幸运地被他保存了下来。尽管有人曾假装好奇地观察这些牛，进而对其品种的绝对纯洁性提出质疑，认为它们在一些方面与其祖先相比已经有所退化，而在另一些方面又因和其他品种杂交而变得有所不同。据记载，科尔喀斯Colchis【117】公牛的四蹄是黄铜的，但这是否由于野蛮的放牧和经营，或由于其他父母种系的混入而产生了变异，或由于密谋私通，或由于其祖先高贵的精液细胞曾在某种程度上受损，或由于在如此漫长的时间过程中必然产生的退化，而造成最初的原始本然在后来罪恶的世界里堕落了，这些都不得而知。总之，不论原因究竟如何，彼得那些公牛的金属蹄子确实随时间的侵蚀而严重退化，现在变成了铅的。但是，属于它们血脉特有的可怕的咆哮却完好地保留了下来，包括能从鼻孔喷火的本领。这一点，尽管连它们的许多反对者都承认这是它们超群之处，其实也没有看上去那么邪乎可怕。那只不过是由于它们的日常进食使然——爆竹和烟花。然而，他们却有两个独特的标志，使它们极其明显地不同于一般公牛，而且，我还从没有见到过任何对其他动物的描述像贺拉斯【118】这样把它们相提并论的：

Varias inducere plumas;【119】

和

Atrum desinat in piscem.【120】

就是这种有鱼尾巴的公牛，偶尔也能像鸟一样在空中飞翔。彼得给它们派了几个用场。有时他会用它们吓唬淘气的男孩，让他们安静下来。有时他也会派给它们十分重要的差事。这说起来极其令人兴奋（但谨慎的读者恐怕不一定相信），也就是从它们高贵的祖先金羊毛的守卫士那里演化出整个家族的敏感的口味。他们一如既往地贪恋黄金，如果彼得把它们送出国，哪怕只得到一个小小的赞美，它们也会立即咆哮、吐痰、打嗝、撒尿、放屁、喷出着火的鼻涕，并且一直不停地转圈，直到你赏给它们一块金子。但是在得到魔力粉后，他们就变得像羊羔一样十分安静。总之，不管是通过主人私下默许或鼓励，还是自己贪图黄金的本性，还是两者兼有之，它们其实并不比彪悍、放肆的乞丐强多少。如果它们得不到施舍，就会让女人流产，让孩子抽风。时至今日，这些人还常常把精灵和妖怪称作牛乞丐【121】。它们最后变得非常麻烦，扰得四邻不安，以至于西北部的一些绅士豢养的正宗英国斗牛犬【122】一直袭击他们，直到今天还能感觉到。

我还不能不提彼得的另一个非凡的项目，从中可以看出他的确是具有高深造诣的发明大师。当纽盖特监狱【123】的某位犯人被判处绞刑后，彼得就会以一定数额的金钱作为交换条件，提出为他减刑。这位可怜的罪犯想尽办法变卖家当凑足的钱，换来的是彼得老爷写有如下内容的一张纸条——

“各位市长、行政长官、狱卒、警员、法警、死刑犯人等，我们得知，判处死刑的某某仍在你们或你们中某人的手中。我们责成并命令你们，见字后立即让此人回到他自己的居所，不论他是因谋杀、鸡奸、强奸、乱伦、亵渎圣物、叛国、渎职等何种罪名获罪。你们仅凭此字条即可确保安然无事。倘若你们不照此办理，就让你们和你们的来世见……去吧。此致，衷心地与你们告别。

你的最卑微的

人上人，

皇帝彼得。”

那些相信他花言巧语的可怜人，不但失去了生命，还耗尽了所有钱财。

我希望从后人的佼佼者中挑选出来有资格对这篇精心打造的文章评头论足的人，能细细品味其中的某些隐语。他们中所有没被vere adepti【124】的人都可能有草率下结论的危险，尤其是一些离奇神秘的段落中的arcana【125】，为简洁起见被合到了一起。因而在品评过程中需要划分。而且我确信，艺术界未来的子孙们将对我这一如此有益的innuendo【126】无比感激。

不用我多说，读者一定很清楚，世上很多有价值的发明都取得了巨大的成功，尽管我在此正当提出的仅为其中极少的一部分。因为我的初衷是，只介绍那些最有利于公众效法的发明，或是最能展现发明家的奇思妙想和智慧的发明。因此，如果此时彼得已成为超级富豪，我们并没有必要感到惊讶。但是，可惜！由于他的大脑如此长时间地过度运转，他的精神终于出现了恍惚和分裂的症状，继而开始错乱。简而言之，由于性情高傲、专注事业和无赖作风，可怜的彼得变得越来越离谱，竟然开始想象世界上最离奇古怪的事情。在他犯病的高峰期，他和那些通常因为高傲而变得疯狂的人一样，竟然称自己为全能的上帝，有时还自称为宇宙的霸主。我曾见过他（我的作者说）戴着三顶旧皇冠高帽，三顶帽子一个摞一个巍峨地戴在他头上，【127】腰带上挂着巨大的一串钥匙，手里还拿着一根钓鱼竿。在这种装扮下，如果任何人出于礼貌上前去拉他的手，他都会十分优雅地，像一只受过良好教育的狗一样，把脚伸给他们。如果他们拒绝他的这种礼貌，他就会把脚抬起到他们裤腰的高度，然后对准他们的嘴巴踢上该死的一脚。从此以后这种礼节就被称为敬礼。无论谁走过他面前如果不发出由衷的赞美，都会被他那强有力的呼吸把帽子吹掉，落到污泥里。与此同时他的家里全乱套了，他的两个兄弟的日子也不好过。他的第一桩boutade【128】是在一天早上将他们的妻子踢出门外，连他自己的太太也不例外。然后他们叫人到大街上把最先碰到的三个在街头表演的女人带回来，取而代之。过了一段时间，他又把地窖的门给封了，不给他的兄弟们一点吃喝。有一天，彼得在城里一位地方官的家中做客，聆听了他模仿其同侪的口吻，对他的牛腰肉进行的称赞。“牛肉，”这位大人说，“是肉中之王，其中包含鹧鸪、鹌鹑、鹿肉、野鸡、李子布丁和奶油的精华。”彼得回到家中以后，感到很有必要看一看他自己的学说，按其所默认的牛腰肉烹饪出来，再添加到他的黑面包里是何种效果。“面包，”他说，“亲爱的兄弟，是生命的支柱，其中含有牛肉、羊肉、小牛肉、鹿肉、鹧鸪、葡萄干布丁和奶油的精华。为完成这一切的混合，需要一定量的水，与起软化作用的酵母或麯子混合在一起，形成一种健康的发酵液，并渗入到面包的肌体内。”在得到如此确定的结论以后，第二天晚餐时城市宴会的所有礼节性主餐就都是一道黑面包了。“来，兄弟们，”彼得说，“吃吧，不要客气；这是上好的羊肉，要么等一下，让我来，我来帮你们。”他一面这样说着一面舞弄刀叉做出一系列庄严的仪式动作，切下两片高贵的面包，并各放到一个盘子里递给他的两个弟兄。这两兄弟中较年长【129】的一个，也不是第一次领教彼得的这套把戏了，便用很谦恭的语言评价这一神圣赠物。“我的老爷，”他说，“我觉得你这一高贵的赠与行为可能有一个错误。”——“哦，”彼得说，“看你高兴的样子，说吧，就让我们听听是什么可喜的事情让你合不拢嘴。”——“那倒不是，我的老爷。只是，除非我受骗了，不然的话，阁下，您刚才欣然脱口而出有关羊肉的词语，想必不会让我全心全意的寻找落空吧。”——“怎么，”彼得诧异道，“这我就完全不懂了。”这时弟弟赶忙插话纠正说：“我的老爷，我哥哥八成是饿坏了，所以急切地盼望看到阁下曾经许诺我们的羊肉。”——“祷告吧，”彼得说，“请让我和你一起，你们要么拿出要么装出比我所赞成的更多的快乐，如果你们不喜欢自己的那一块，我可以另外再给你们切一块，我认为这就是一整块前腿肉。”——“那么，我的老爷，”第一个发话的兄弟问道，“难道在你看来这始终是羊的前腿肉？”——“祷告吧，先生，”彼得说，“吃你的饭吧，不要无礼，如果你不介意的话。我现在还不想再给它添加作料。”但是另一个兄弟被彼得所表现出的一脸严肃所激怒，有点按捺不住了：“上……，我的老爷，”他说，“我只能说，通过我的眼睛所见、手指所触、牙齿所咬、鼻子所闻，它不过是一片干面包而已。”这时另一个兄弟也插话说：“我这辈子还从来没见过这样像十二便士面包的一块羊肉哩。”——“看看你们，二位先生，”彼得愤怒地叫道，“为了让你俩知道你们不过是两只瞎眼的、十足的、无知的、任性的小狗，我只好使用如下证据了：我对上……发誓，这是伦敦肉类市场所能见到的真正的、上好的、天然的羊肉；上……诅咒你们这两个永远不相信这一切的家伙。”这铁一般的证据一出，当然再没有任何反驳的余地了。慌乱中那两个反对者竭力支吾并掩盖他们的错误。“是啊，当然，”第一个说：“经过更深入的考虑……”——“嗯，”另一个打断他说，“现在我感到这东西好多了。老爷确实有充分的理由说服我们。”——“很好，”彼得说，“来，孩子，给我的酒杯里斟满波尔多红酒，我全心全意地敬你俩一杯。”这两个弟兄，高兴地看到他怒气全消，便回以他们最诚挚的谢意，说他们很乐意维护他的主人地位。“那是当然的，”彼得说，“我并不是一个不讲理的人。我不会拒绝你们所言中任何合理的部分。葡萄酒，如果饮用适度，就是兴奋剂，也给你俩一人一杯；这是真正的从葡萄中提取的天然原汁，并非由你们所诅咒的葡萄酒商所酿造。”说到这里，他又递给他俩每人一大块黑面包，并命令他们喝掉，且不必担心，因为它对他们不会有丝毫伤害。这两兄弟，在完成了在这种微妙场合通常需要做的一套仪式动作以后，久久地看着彼得并相互对视，琢磨着事态将如何发展。但他们最后还是决定不再挑起新一轮的争端。由他爱怎么说就怎么说吧，他现在多半正处于疯病的巅峰期，辩论和规劝只会让他更加不可理喻。

我之所以把这段故事原原本本地讲出来，是因为它作为主要原因引发了一场重大的、世人瞩目的分裂。分裂在这三弟兄之间大约同时发生，而且从此以后再没有和好过。但是对于这一点我将在另一章中讲述。

然而，可以肯定的是，彼得老爷即使在他神智十分清醒的时候，在一般谈话中也总是很露骨地表现出极度的任性和不容分说，而且永远都是宁死不承认自己有丝毫错误。此外，他还有一项可怕的本领，就是在任何场合撒弥天大谎，不仅如此，他还发毒誓说这都是真的，并诅咒在场所有哪怕是装出对他有一丝怀疑的人下地狱。有一次他发誓说，他家里有一头牛，在吃了一顿草料之后挤出的牛奶填满了三千座教堂；更为不可思议的是，这些牛奶永远不会坏。还有一次他谈论起一根属于他父亲的旧路标杆，说它上面的钉子和木料足够建造十六条战船。有一天他又谈起一种中国货车，说它轻得可以在群山上乘风破浪航行，“上……，”彼得说，“这有何奇妙？我向上……发誓，我还曾看到过一个用石灰和石头建造的大房子在海洋和陆地上游走（假定它时而也要停下来吃东西），飞越了两千多德国里格的距离。”再有就是那最精彩的部分了，他总是一边讲述一边百般发誓说，他自有生以来从不说谎，一个字也没有说过。“我向上……发誓，先生们，我告诉你们的都是事实；见……吧，我永远诅咒那些不相信我的人。”

无需多言，彼得因此而臭名昭著，周围邻居都坦言他是个不折不扣的无赖。而他的两个兄弟也早已厌烦了处处受他的不公平待遇，终于决定离开他。但是首先他们谦恭地向他提出期望得到父亲那份久违了的遗嘱。而他非但没有满足他们的请求，反而骂他们是婊子养的、强盗、叛徒等等，用尽了一切能够想到的难听字眼。然而有一天他在国外推广他的项目的时候，这两兄弟看到了时机，于是回来找到了遗嘱，通过copia vera【130】他们这才发现自己上当受骗有多严重。父亲在遗嘱里说他们三人是平等的继承人，并严格规定，不管他们谁得到什么都应该三人平分。照此办理，他们的下一行动就是砸开地窖的门，品尝美酒，提提精神并安抚内心的伤痛。在抄写遗嘱的过程中他们又发现禁止淫乱、离婚和分居的规定。于是他们休掉了小妾，找回了自己原配的妻子。就在这一切还没有停当的时候，从纽盖特监狱来了一位律师，问彼得老爷是否愿意为一个明天即将上绞架的死刑犯减刑。这两兄弟回答他说，他竟然找一个本身更应该被绞死的人为将被绞死的人减刑，真是太荒唐了。同时他们也了解了我上文刚刚交代的他的种种骗术。他们建议这位律师去找国王看看能否为朋友减刑。正在这闹哄哄的当儿，哈！彼得回来了，身后还跟着一哨人马。他集中起所有家丁，骂出数不清的脏话和诅咒，毋庸一一赘述。并以压倒性优势将这弟兄二人踢出了家门，从此以后不许他们再靠近他的屋檐半步。

第五章　关于现代人的题外话

我们，这些被世界誉为现代作家的人，所付出的努力如果不能大有裨益于全人类的福祉，那就永远不可能实现流芳百世、名垂青史的梦想。这，哦万物，就是你的仆人——我——的远大理想！

Quemvis perferre laborem

Suadet, et inducit noctes vigilare serenas.【131】

正是出于这样的目的，我才耗费了如此多心血和精力，在人的躯体上通过解剖发现其内在本质，并阅读了大量有关各种器官的有益书籍，包括内在和外在的器官，直到尸体的气味让我再也无法继续保存它。通过如此巨大的付出，我终于完全了解了每根骨头的精确位置和形态，因此很乐于在这里为所有对此感兴趣的先生和其他人展示完整的解剖图。但是在这个本来属于题外话的章节中，我不能离题太远。因为我知道有些作家把题外话包装在另一个题外话里，使之像一个扑朔迷离的魔盒。我只简单说明一点，通过对人类本质的深入剖析，我有了一个全新的、重要的、奇特的发现。那就是，造福人类有两种途径：教育和消遣。在刚才提到我的那些材料中（世人或许有一天会看到它，如果它的魅力大到足以让我的某位朋友想去偷一本，或让某位我景仰的先生急不可耐地想一睹为快的话），我已经进一步证实，人类现今倾向于从消遣中获得大大多于教育的益处。他们的通病是大惊小怪、没有正形、哈欠连天。在当今无所不包的智慧和学识的汪洋大海中，教育似乎已没有多大余地了。但是在我的那本对于伟大时代极具权威性的教材中，我已成功将教育全面拔高，而且，这一杰作从头至尾都在十分艺术地把这两个层面糅合在一起，一层是有用的，另一层是dulce【132】。

当我想到：我们五光十色的现代人已经大大掩盖了古代人的微弱光芒，把他们排斥在所有时尚的商业活动之外，这还不算，我们的那些卓越的城市精英竟然还对古人是否曾经存在的问题产生严重分歧，而对此我们可以从杰出的现代人本特利【133】博士有益的劳动和呕心沥血的著作中得到十分满意的答案，当我想到所有这一切的时候，我不禁深深感到，没有哪个著名的现代人曾尝试过在一本体积小巧的便携书里写出如此无所不包的庞大体系。它包括所有已知的，或人们相信或想象的，或在生活中实践过的事情。但是我必须承认，这样的奇迹不久前曾被一位伟大的巴西哲学家想到过。他提出的方法是，通过某种神秘程序获取一个秘方，这是他英年早逝之后我在他遗留下的文件里发现的。在这里，出于我对现代学人的深厚感情，我向他们展示这一秘方。毫无疑问，有朝一日它将启发某位有才华的实践者。

在所有的现代艺术与科学作品中，你根据自己的喜好任意挑选出用小牛皮做书脊、封底印有文字的精美书籍，不论它是由哪一种你喜欢的文字写成，你把它们in balneo Mariae【134】进行提炼，注入Q. S.【135】的罂粟精华，用从药剂师那里得到的三品脱忘川【136】的水混合，并仔细清理掉其中的sordes【137】和caput mortuum【138】，让其中所有不稳定的成分挥发掉，你只保留第一道萃取物，然后再将其蒸馏十七次，直到剩下约两特拉姆【139】的总量。你把它装在一个小玻璃瓶里，密封好，搁置二十一天。这时你就可以开始写你的天主教专著了。每天早晨在你空腹时，先摇晃小瓶，摇出三滴仙液，用鼻子将其猛烈吸入。十四分钟之内，它就会在大脑（如果有的话）里溶解。这时你的脑海中就会立即浮现出无数的摘要、介绍、提纲、精粹、全集、节录，excerpta quaedams【140】, florilegias【141】等等。而且全都井然有序地从你的笔端涌出，有条不紊地落到纸上。

我必须承认，正是有了这一秘方的帮助，尽管impar【142】，我却可以冒险尝试一件连某位名为荷马【143】的作家都未曾实现甚至尝试过的如此大胆的事情。尽管他本不是个没有能力的人，且对于一位古人来说，也还算有几分天资，我却发现了他的许多错误，这使我不能原谅他的骨灰，如果他还有任何骨灰留下来的话。因为尽管我们很清楚他的作品所涉及的是一个包括人、神、政治乃至机械力学的完整的知识体系，但是很显然，他完全忽视了一些方面，而在其他方面也极其不完美。首先，作为一个他的门徒所称的杰出的秘法家，他的opus magnum【144】极度的贫乏和蹩脚，他似乎只肤浅地读过森迪沃格斯【145】、贝曼【146】或《灵智魔学》【147】，而他对sphaera pyroplastica【148】也有很多错误理解，以致造成无法挽回的疏忽。如果读者同意这一严厉的谴责，vix crederem autorem hunc unquam audivisse ignis vocem【149】。在机械方面，他也有不少同样明显的错误。因为，我曾带着现代智者常有的最真诚的实践精神阅读他的作品，却丝毫也无法弄清那件有用工具的结构，也就是一个节约装置。为了它，若没有现代人的帮助，我们可能至今仍然在黑暗中摸索。但我还有一个比这更加严厉百倍的问题要诘问这位作者，我是说他对这一领域的一般法则，以及英格兰教会的原则和纪律的极度无知。他的这一缺点确实使他，以及所有古人都成为我了不起的朋友沃顿【150】先生正当的严厉谴责的对象，这位神学学士【151】的无与伦比的题为“古代与现代的学识”的论文无论是在其轻松的格调、泉涌的才思，还是作者对这一吞云吐雾的飞行物用途的伟大发现，抑或在其矫情的口才风格方面，都从来没有得到足够的重视。因此，当我笔下的这篇文章行文至此，我深深有感于它给予我的巨大帮助和启发，因而我情不自禁地要公开表达对这位作家的敬意和谢忱，以彰显对他的公正待遇。

但除了上文提到的这些荷马的疏漏以外，好奇的读者一定还会在这位作家的作品中发现其他一些并非完全由他负责的缺陷。因为从他所处的时代到现在，尤其是在最近三年或三年左右的时间里，每一知识领域都得到了如此长足的发展进步，因而他的构想已不可能像他的鼓吹者所宣称的那样，是非常完美的现代发明了。我们轻易地承认是他发明了指南针、火药和血液循环。但是我敢向他的仰慕者发起挑战，在他的所有作品中找出关于这类行为动机的完整说明：难道不是他放任我们自己去寻找政治博弈的艺术？还有什么比他有关茶经的长篇大论更蹩脚和难以令人满意？至于他的被后来人追捧的无须借助汞的唾液分泌法【152】，依我的知识和经验看来，更是极不可信的。

正是为了弥补这样一些重大缺陷，我才在朋友长久的劝说下被说服，拿起了笔。并且我敢保证，明智的读者在这里绝对找不到任何可以在人生紧急关头使用却被忽略的东西。我相信我已经囊括和穷尽了人类想象力所有可能上及和下达的所在。特别是，我推荐的这一研读学者著述的发明是所有其他人全然不曾想到的。对此，我只须在无数事例中略提一件，那就是，我帮助一知半解的人们学习的新方法，此法亦可称为“深学浅读法”，一个有关捕鼠器的新新发明；一个通用的推理规则，或按每个人的自身条件，再加上一个动力强劲的捕捉猫头鹰的机器。所有这些，聪明的读者一看便知，都是我在这本书的若干部分中着力论述的。

我认为，对于我正在写作的这篇文章的美妙和高明之处，我已极尽彰显之能事，因为在这个讲究礼貌和学识的时代，作者倾向于纠正居心不良的批评者或彬彬有礼的无知读者，已成为一种最受称道的时尚与幽默。此外，近来还有几篇著名的作品见诸文坛，有诗歌，也有散文。其中，如果作者对大众的深厚情感和伟大人性不能使他产生愉悦，从而对作品内在的崇高和神圣进行很好的细致描写，那么我们能在其中发现庄严和神圣丝毫踪迹的可能性，就只有千分之一。【153】拿我自己来说，我不否认，不管我在这里说了什么，它都更为适合放在前言里说，并且更适合采用通常用于前言的写作风格。但是我认为能得到那无比尊贵的最后的作家殊荣也很惬意：作为最新一代的现代人，我主张我绝对的权利。而我的后来人的身份给了我对所有前人专制的权利。正因为有了这一权利，我极不赞成并坚决反对那种把前言当作一本书的节目单的惯常做法。因为我一直认为，对于大投机商和其他有奇思妙想的零售商来说，以下的做法是极为轻率的：在门口挂一幅所售商品的大图片，下面加上雄辩的解说词：这节省了我多达三个便士的金钱。这样的招牌让我的好奇心得到了彻底的满足，因此我根本无心再走进店去，虽然我还常常会听到那位演说家般的促销店员最后的时断时续的演说词：先生，我敢保证，我们这就开始。这就是现代前言、书信、广告、简介、绪论乃至器具给读者的最真实的感受。这种技巧在最初曾经十分吸引人。我们伟大的德莱顿把它用到了极致，并取得了令人难以置信的成功。他时常信心十足地对我说，如果不是他如此经常地在前言里向读者保证他是这个世界上如此伟大的一位诗人，读者很可能会怀疑甚至忘掉这一点。这也许是对的吧，但是，我更担心他的教育偏离了方向。他似乎在教人在某些方面变得更聪明，却从未真正打算他们这样。因为看到当今许多和我们年龄相仿的热心读者，翻看前言和献辞（是很常见的现代简洁版）就像看拉丁文，看了四五十页就厌烦了，懒得再往下看。尽管另一方面，必须承认，已知有很大一部分人继而成为批评家或智者都是只看前言不看其余部分的。这使我认为可以公平地将读者分为两类。现在，对我自己来说，我自认为属于前一类。因此，我用现代人的眼光来分析我自己的作品之美，并展示其中的亮点。我认为最好的办法是在正文中展示，正如我现在所做的。因为这样可以给我们的文章十分可观地增加篇幅，这一点是任何一位娴熟的作家都绝对不会忽视的。

在对我们最新作家所形成的习惯表达了我的一番敬意和谢忱，并通过并非刻意而为的长长的题外话，通过无缘无故地非难一切，并通过良苦用心和机智的语言，拿出对自己极大的公正和对他人极大的诚实揭示了我的优点和其他人的缺陷之后，现在我非常乐意继续我的主要话题，以最大程度地让读者和作者都感到满意。

第六章　无稽之谈

前文说过，彼得老爷与他的两个弟兄分道扬镳，把他们赶出了家门。从此他们重又回到了广阔的世界，且对世间的一切都不敢相信了。这些情况倒是恰好给作家的写作增添了合适的素材，对于伟大的冒险家来说，悲惨的境遇总能带来最大的收获。世人也能从中感知慷慨的作者与普通的朋友在素养上的差异。一般认为，普通朋友只能同富贵，不能共患难。而慷慨的作者就不一样了，他善于在粪土中发现英雄，并从这里逐步将他扶上王位，然后就戛然而止了；对自己的一番苦心并不期待多少回报和感谢。而这正是我要模仿的范例，我已将彼得老爷赋予一个高贵身份，并给了他相应的称号和足够他享用的金钱。现在我把有关他的话题暂且放一放，因为常人所具有的慈悲之心让我不能不帮他落难中的两兄弟一把。当然，我也绝不会忘记我作为历史学家的天职，脚踏实地地追寻着真理，无论发生什么事情，也无论它将带我走向何方。

且说这一对被命运和志趣紧紧联系在一起的落魄兄弟，总算找到了一个住处一起住下。在那里他们第一次有了空闲时间。于是他们开始反思自己充满无数不幸和烦恼的过去，一时间对自己究竟做错了什么百思不得其解。无奈中他们忽然想起父亲的遗嘱，谢天谢地，他们总算重新得到了遗嘱的正本。于是他们立即将它拿了出来，并庄严决定，改正所有违反遗嘱的错误，并在今后的行动中严格按照规定的要求办事。遗嘱的主体（读者应该不至于忘记）是有关他们穿着那件外套的引人入胜的规则。通过仔细核对，两兄弟把每一个时期的实践活动与规定的条文逐一比较，发现还从来没有见过比它们之间差别更大的两种事物，在遗嘱的每一点上都有可怕的、彻底的违反。于是他们立即一致决定，按照父亲的遗嘱把衣服改回原样。

但是，对于那些迫不及待想知道故事结果的急性子读者来说，我有必要打断他们一下，以便让我们作家做一些适当的铺垫。我要说的是，此时这两兄弟的身份也今非昔比，并且有了各自的名分。其中一个给自己取名马丁，另一个取名杰克。这两人曾在他们的兄弟彼得的威压下一度十分友好，因为对于同命相连的两人来说，这是明智之举。厄运当头的人如同处身于黑暗之中，对所有的颜色都分辨不清，但当他们重新回到世界上，开始在光明中相互展示自己的时候，他们所从事活动的现状突然让他们发现，他们有着非常不同的处世态度。

说到这里，严肃的读者可能会指责我作为一个作家记忆力太差。而一个真正的现代人又是丝毫不会受制于这样的缺点的。因为记忆力作为思想对过去事物的存储，是一种对于我们这个辉煌时代的学者来说全然不发生效力的能力。他们只和发明创造打交道，所有的事情都是他们自己想出来的或互相讨论出来的。正由于此，我们非常合理地认为，拿我们伟大的健忘症作为论点，是难以染指我们伟大的智慧的。我应该是在此手稿的大约五十页前，就得体地向读者提到了一个了不起的彼得，带动了他的两兄弟，在外套添加了所有那些时尚的零碎儿，即使过时了以后他们也没有拆除其中任何一样。也就是说，所有增加的东西都依旧在衣服上保留着。可想而知，它成了你所能想象的最离奇古怪的大杂烩。这样说吧，在他们分手的时候，衣服原来的样子可以说一丝一毫都难以看到了，能看到的只有无数的花边、丝带、镶嵌、刺绣和斑点。我的意思是那些银点，因为其余的斑点都脱落了。还算幸运，这件已经在某个角落里被忘却了很久的衣服，被这两兄弟找到了。在他们决心按父亲的遗愿把它改回原样的时候，它就是上述的样子。

他们二人不约而同地开始了这项伟大的工作。他们时而观看外套，时而观看遗嘱。马丁先下手了。他把衣服抖一下，就有许多银点纷纷落下。接着他又抓了一把，一下就拉下来近10码长的花边。这个时候他犹豫了：他很清楚地知道仍然有大量的工作要做。然而，当最初的热度过后，他的情绪开始冷却。于是他决定采用较温和的方法继续其余的大量工作。他小心地撕下那一个个银点，以免把衣料撕破。上文我们曾经提到，这些银点含有银的成分，缝缀它们的工人也很聪明，采用了双线密缝，以防脱落。下一步马丁决定拆除外套上大量的金花边，他对每一个针脚的处理更加谨慎，并且还把所有的碎线头也都清理干净，这花费了很长时间。接下来，他开始拆除那些刺绣的印度男人、女人和孩子的图案。看官应该还记得，这些都是他们的父亲在遗嘱上明确提出强烈反对的。拆除它们不但需要精细的手法，而且需要极度的耐心。他拆了好一阵，才把其中的一部分完全拆干净，另外一些只是从表面上看不到了。还有一些绣得非常密实，拆起来非常麻烦，很难完全拆干净并不损伤衣料。此外，还有的刺绣原本就是用于掩盖或修补外套上面的瑕疵的，绣工与衣料已成为一体。于是他决定，对于这些还是以保持原样为好，以免衣服的原始布料受到任何损伤。他认为，只有这样才是对父亲遗嘱的真正目的和用意最好的遵从。以上就是我对马丁所实施的这场伟大革命的尽我所能的描述。

然而，他的兄弟杰克所经历的冒险故事却非常奇特，使我们不得不用剩余的大部分篇幅来描述。对于同样一件事情，他采取的却是完全不同的态度和策略。他对彼得给他的伤害一直记忆犹新，并耿耿于怀。这给他带来的刺激和冲动，大大胜过对父亲任何命令的遵从，因为对于前者来说，后者至多也只不过处于次要和服从的地位。不仅如此，他还给自己这种复杂的心态取了一个似是而非的名字，名曰热情。这或许在所有语言中都是一个意义非凡的词。关于这一点，我想在我对热情所做的一番历史—神学—逻辑学的精辟阐述和分析中已得到充分证明。其中我展示了它是如何先从一个概念发展为一个词，又如何在一个炎热的夏天成熟，从而成为一种有形的物质。这部巨著有对开本三大卷，我已决定马上出版，并采用现代社会常用的从订阅人身上赚钱的方式，而不必怀疑这块宝地上的贵族和上流社会人士所给予我的所有可能的鼓励，因为现在他们对我可能有何种作为已经领略一二了。

且说这位杰克兄弟，在这种复杂心态的驱使下，满怀愤懑地思量着如何对彼得的暴行实施报复，而马丁的软弱妥协又加剧了他的愤怒，于是他下定决心。“这个无赖，”他说，“把吃喝锁起来，把我们的妻子赶跑，骗走我们的钱财，给我们可恶的面包屑充当羊肉，最后还把我们踢出家门；这个恶棍，我们必须以眼还眼，以牙还牙！这还不算，大街小巷里人人都反对他。”就这样，他自我调动情绪，让怒火膨胀到最高点。其结果是，头脑中微妙的改革冲动促使他决定立即着手行动，他用三分钟所做的事情大大超过马丁数小时的作为。因为，好心的看官，你一定能理解，热情一旦达到狂热的程度就有几分失去理智了；而这个时候的杰克正处于这种状态，而且已达到极致。于是就出现了这样的情况：由于他在撕去一堆金丝带时动作过猛，他把整个外套从上到下撕成了两半。而做针线活又不是他的长项，因此他除了将撕开的外套用粗线绳和串肉扦子连缀起来，也没有其他更好的方法。然而无穷无尽的麻烦接踵而至（我是含着眼泪记录这一实情的），当他开始拆刺绣的时候，由于天生笨手笨脚、脾气急躁，又看到数以百万计的针脚需要极度的精细和耐心才能拆除，他一气之下把整个刺绣连同它附着的布料一起撕了下来，并把它扔进狗窝，并疯狂地继续撕扯：“啊，好兄弟马丁，”他一边撕扯一边说，“为了对上帝的爱，学着我一样做吧，撕、扯、拉、剥，一切的一切，这样我们就和那恶棍彼得彻底不一样了。哪怕给我一百英镑，我也不愿意在身上留下一丝一毫可能引起邻人怀疑我与这样一个恶棍有相似之处的证据。”但是，这时候的马丁却非常冷静和镇定。他请求他的兄弟，为了所有的爱，不要对他的外套实施任何伤害，因为他永远不可能再得到另一件同样的外套了。还提醒他说，他们所做的这件事与他们对彼得的任何成见无关，仅仅是为了遵守父亲在遗嘱中的规定。他应该记得，无论彼得犯了什么样的错误，造成多大的伤害，他毕竟是他们的兄弟。为了报复，就一味采取冤冤相报的方法反对他，这种想法要不得，应该努力克服。的确，他们的好父亲所作的有关他们穿着此外套的规定非常明确，但是其中对他们三人之间的和睦、友好、互助和情谊方面也有同样严格的规定。因此，假如得理不饶人本来不可取的话，为加强团结并化解矛盾而为之，那就更不可取了。

如此这般，马丁用开头那种严肃认真的口吻继续说教，所言势必构成一场令人难忘的道德讲座，给我的读者的身心带来巨大的教益，而这也正是伦理的终极目标。但是此时此刻的杰克却早已因不耐烦而不知去向了。在学术争执中，作为学者在提出质疑时应有的淡定，还从未引发过如此强烈的反感。在很多情况下，争执就像一个不平衡的天平，总是重的一边压倒轻的一边，并使之抬高、受迫。当下所发生的情况正是如此，马丁所言之重压倒了杰克之轻，迫使他逃之夭夭，以表示对手足兄弟的反感。总之，马丁的耐心把杰克激怒了。然而，真正让他倍受煎熬的还是眼下自己兄弟的外套这般完好无损，并恢复到了以前的清白状态；而他自己的这件，不但破得使里面的衬衫显露无遗，而且在那些未受到他猛烈撕扯的部位，依旧保留着他兄弟彼得留下的烙印。现在他看起来就像一个饱受欺凌的醉汉，一个因拒绝交出诈骗款而新近被投入纽盖特监狱的犯人，一个当场被抓住又被柜台女郎高抬贵手放走的商店扒手，一个穿着旧天鹅绒裙子任由势利之手摆布的鸨母。不管像其中哪一个，还是所有的都像，这个满身烂布条、破花边和大窟窿的可怜的杰克如果现在看到自己的外套还和马丁的一样，他一定会非常高兴，但是，如果他看到马丁的外套和自己的一样，他一定会更加倍地高兴。然而，鉴于这两种情况都不大可能发生，他感到需要另辟蹊径，文过饰非。于是他努力（按他自己的说法或用意）收集狡黠的辩词，用以说服马丁回心转意，让他把自己也搞成衣衫褴褛、破烂不堪的样子，并承认自己前面所说的那番话都是无稽之谈。在尽一切努力做好这些准备以后，可惜！孤立无援的杰克所能做的仍不过是用无数粗俗的语言攻击和谩骂他的兄弟，抓狂、语无伦次。总而言之，这两兄弟之间产生了巨大的分歧。杰克立即另外找了新居所，没过几天就传来确切消息说，他的智慧已经耗尽。此后不久他又出现在国外，表现出病态大脑所能呈现的最离奇古怪的胡思乱想症状，进一步证实了上述消息。

现在，在街上遇到他的小男孩们开始用多个名字称呼他。有时称他秃头杰克，有时称他打灯笼的杰克，有时称他荷兰杰克，有时称他法国老休，有时称他乞丐汤姆，有时称他北方敲门的杰克。正是这些名称中的一个或几个或全部，由聪明的读者去取舍，催生了伊奥利亚【154】最杰出的也是流行的教派。时至今日，这里的人们仍对这位著名的杰克充满景仰与怀念，将他尊为他们的始祖和创始人。至此我已将此人的来历和为人十分详细地介绍了一番，以满足世人的好奇。

—Melleo contingens cuncta lepore.【155】

第七章　关于题外话的题外话

我经常听到用三言两语概括的伊利亚特【156】，但对我来说幸运的是，我更经常看到伊利亚特中的三言两语。毫无疑问，人生从这两者中都能得到极大的裨益。但是，世界究竟更应该感谢其中哪一个，我想把这作为一个值得深入探究的问题留给对此感兴趣的人们。对于后者的发明，我认为学术界应主要感谢现代人对题外话的改进：对知识的后期精加工类似于对我们国人口味的精加工。而这种口味，对于味觉极佳的人来说，是经过各种复合材料调配的，呈现于开胃汤、杂烩菜、浓汁肉丁和蔬菜炖肉中。

事实上，生活不很富裕的人，不免感到一种压抑的困扰，声称十分讨厌这种礼节性的发明；对于饮食口味一说，他们倒是也赞成这样的类比，却大胆提出，这一实例本身是对品味的莫大玷污和诋毁。他们告诫我们说，将五十种调料混杂一处加入菜肴的时尚，最初的形成就是为了迎合一种邪恶、堕落的口腹之欲，实属疯狂。看一个人饕餮杂烩菜，头脑完全像鹅，像野鸭，或丘鹬，说明他缺少消化更为实质性食物的胃脏和消化器官。他们还进一步肯定，题外话对于一本书来说就如同一支外国军队来到一个大谈国民需要拥有自己的心和手的国度，往往要么征服当地人，要么把当地人驱逐到最贫瘠的角落。

然而，这些傲慢的抨击者所反对的一切表明，如果把写书的人限制在致命的除了直奔主题其他一概不能写的框框里，那作家群体的数量将很快减少到极其微不足道的数目。应该承认，如果我们目前的处境与希腊、罗马人相同，在学识尚处于摇篮之中，需要扶持和培育，并被冠以创新美名的时期，那么写出大部头的真实故事乃是比较容易的事情，无需偏离主题而言他，借此渲染或深化主题。但是知识的滋长就像一支驻扎在一个富裕国家的数量庞大的军队的成长，开头几天尚可以由自己所在土地的产品供养，一旦给养耗尽，他们势必要到远方去寻找食物。至于从朋友还是敌人那里寻找，也就不重要了。与此同时，邻近的田野被践踏和蹂躏，变得贫瘠干燥，除了暴土扬沙，不再出产粮食。

可见，我们的经历已和我们的先辈完全不同，聪明的现代人对此看得很清楚。我们这个时代的人发明了一套成为学者或智者的更为快捷和可靠的方法，无需经受读书和思考之苦。目前使用图书最有效方的式有二，可任选其一。第一种方法是将它们视为议员，记住其头衔和名号，然后就可以吹嘘与之相识了。相比之下，第二种方法其实更可取、更有价值，且更文雅，那就是仔细阅读索引部分。因为它是整本书的纲要和指南，就如同鱼尾巴的功用。由于从大门进入知识的宫殿需要大量时间和程式，所以时间不多、不喜欢程式的人往往选择从后门进入。由于各类艺术都飞速进展，因此更容易从后面进攻。就像医生要了解整个身体的状况，往往只观察后面的排出物。因此，人们获取知识从一本书的后部分着手，就像男孩将弹丸瞄准麻雀的尾巴。因此，了解人生的最佳途径是注意后端，这是聪明人的方法；因此，科学的发现就像赫克勒斯的公牛，【157】从后面追踪；因此，老学问的揭秘就像旧丝袜，从脚下开始。不仅如此，作为拥有大量军事原则的体系，近来科学大军的规矩日益严密，总体上看正进行大规模的集体探索活动。对于它给我们带来的福祉，我们完全应该感谢其体系与纲要，它使我们现代的科学巨匠，像谨慎的放贷人一样，用他们的辛劳和汗水造福于我们这些后辈。惟有辛勤劳动播撒的种子，才可能让后人坐享其成，让我们在这高贵的年代获得如此特殊而丰厚的收获。如今让人变得聪明、有学问、高贵的方法越来越多，日益普及，且有了较固定的形式，因此作家的数量也势必相应增加。其结果，必然导致他们之间不断产生摩擦。此外，还有人说，目前自然界已不再有足以让人另立一个名目，并为之编纂一部书的新事物出现。这话是一个非常出色的数学家告诉我的。他用数学定理对此做了完整的演示。

或许，这一说法会遭到那些坚持物质无限论的人们的反对。他们不承认任何一种事物可以被穷尽。为了回答这个问题，让我们分析一下当今社会所发明并培育出的一种最高级的现代智慧。作为所有智慧的一部分，它结出的果实最多、最美。其中，尽管有一部分遗存是古人留给我们的，但依我的记忆，还全然没有被破译或编辑形成体系以供现代社会使用。因此，以我们的名义，我们可以确信，从某种意义上说，它的发明和完善都是由现代人一手完成的。我指的是现代人所拥有的从男性和女性的pudenda【158】及其正常用途中演绎出象征、影射和应用艺术的享誉甚高的智慧，绝对令人惊讶、舒畅和愉悦。再有，看到发明中与这些渠道无关的时尚成分微乎其微，不禁让我时常想到，我们时代和我们国家的那些快乐天才都是古代对印度矮人的象征性描写所产生的预言效果所造就的。这些矮人的身高不过两英尺；sed quorum pudenda crassa, et ad talos usque pertingentia。【159】目前我一直在很好奇地研究近期出现的最直观展现这种美的作品。尽管这里的静脉时常流血，而且人用尽所有吃奶的力气保持其扩张、胀大并通畅，就像西徐亚人【160】。他们有一个习惯，就是给母马的私处吹气，这样可使它更多产奶。但是我有一个忧虑，就是这样一来那里必然越来越干燥，且不可逆转，而且需要一些新的智慧fonde【161】提供可能的帮助，否则我们对此就只能满足于在那里不断重复，在其他场合也一样。

对于我们现代人的智慧无法计算出不可穷尽的事物的这一说法，以上所述给出了有力的论据。那么，除了增加索引和减少卷本这些最后的招数以外，我们还能做什么呢？必须大量收集语录，并按字母顺序编排。为此，尽管无需和作者协商，但必须和批评家、评论家以及词汇学家谨慎协商。最重要的是，对于聪明地收集到其中最佳部分、鲜花和格言的人，必须通过学识中的所谓细筛子和粗钓丝对其认真处理。【162】尽管我们并不清楚接受它们处理的究竟是珍珠还是鱼饵，因而也不清楚我们究竟应看重留在筛面上的，还是落到筛底下的东西。

通过这些方法，在几周之内就涌现出许多能够驾驭最深奥、最广泛的主题的作家了。可如果他脑袋空空的，怎么写出内容丰满的普通书籍呢？如果你放松在环境、方法、风格、语法或创新等方面对他的约束，赋予他但凡有机会就去抄袭别人、放弃自己主见的普遍特权，那么，无须更多的材料，他就能完成一部可以堂堂正正摆在书店的书架上的作品，并且带着它那用纹章图案加工的精致书名标签，体面地、永久地呆在那里，不让任何学生的手指翻动、弄脏，也不会在图书馆的黑暗中不断轮回，而当大限来临之时，却愉快地接受炼狱的审判，以升上天空。

假如没有这样的许可，那如何指望我们这些现代智者有机会展现我们所收集的材料呢？这些材料的主题成千上万，各不相同，且缺一不可；一旦缺少它们，世人无限的喜悦和受益将被剥夺，使我们在暗淡无光中葬于被遗忘的角落，永不得救赎。

正是这些元素使我得以在有生之年见到作家们联手在竞争中胜过行会中的所有其他弟兄。这让我们自得其乐，还包括来自我们祖先西徐亚人的许多快乐。他们用笔的数量之多，就连从雄辩的希腊语中都难以找到更恰当的形容词，只能说在遥远的北方地区人们几乎不能旅行，因为那里鹅毛满天飞。【163】

本章题外话的长度说明了它的重要程度，而眼下我也已尽我所能为它安排了一个适当位置。如果明智的读者能找到其他更合适的位置，我这里授权给他，可以把它放到任何他喜欢的角落。现在我可要回到更重要的正题上了。

第八章　无稽之谈

在伊奥利亚有一位学者认为，宇宙万物起源于风。根据此种理论，整个宇宙的产生，以及最后的归宿都如此：我们用吹出的气息点燃并使之旺盛的自然之火，终有一天会告吹。

Quod procul a nobis flectat fortuna gubernans.【164】

这就是其adepti【165】对他们的anima mundi【166】的理解，也就是精神或呼吸或风的世界，因为，如果通过自然的细节来观察整个体系，你会发现这是毫无争议的。无论你喜欢将一个人的forma informans【167】称为spiritus, animus, afflatus，还是anima【168】，这些名字除了形态不同，不是都表示风——也就是构成一切化合物质及其最终归宿的基本元素——的意思吗？再说，生命又是什么，难道不是我们常说的从鼻孔呼出的气息吗？因此，自然学家认为风还在我们尚无法说清的某种神秘现象中起作用，这一论断是完全合理的。且不说诸如turgidus【169】和inflatus【170】这样好听的名字既可以指emittent【171】又可以指承受器官。

根据我所收集的古人的记录，我发现他们的信条有三十二条，这里没有必要一一细说。但是其中发展出的几条最重要的规则，绝不能不提。譬如以下这条格言就很有分量：在所有化合中，由于风所占的比例很高，并促成化合，因此这些化合物中的佼佼者必然含有大量的primordium【172】，可见在所有造物中人类是最完美的，并且还被慷慨的哲学家赋予三种不同的animas【173】或风。而伊奥利亚的智者又慷慨地添加了第四种，其重要性和修饰作用不亚于前三种。这就叫做quartum principium【174】，分别位于世界的四个角落，并成就了著名的秘法家帕拉切尔苏斯【175】将人体置于这四大基点相关位置的学说。

出于这一原则，他们的下一个信条是，人在来到这个世界上的时候就带着一定数量的风，它源自那另外四种，可称之为quinta essentia【176】。这一精妙教义普遍适用于人生所有紧要关头，并能发展成为任何门类的艺术和科学，还可以通过某种教育手段得以神奇地精馏和扩充。当此风膨胀至完美程度，就无须保留、硬撑或强压了，而可以自由地传递给人类。由于这些原因，以及其他一些同等重要的原因，聪明的伊奥利亚人宣称，打嗝【177】的本能是理性造物最高尚的行为。为了培养此种艺术，使之更好地为人类服务，他们采用了多种方法。在一年的某些季节里，你会看见他们中数量众多的祭司，个个张大嘴巴面向狂风。而在其他时候，你能看到数百人在一起围成一个圈，每人手拿一副风箱，对准旁边人的臀部吹气，把他吹鼓，成为大酒桶的形状。因此，他们通常非常得体地把自己的身体称为气囊。在通过诸如此类的手段胀大，达到足够饱满程度的时候，他们便立即离开，为公众的利益，将自己囊中所得的大部分注入到他们信徒的皮囊里。在这里我们必须申明，他们之所以把所有的学问都尊奉为从同一原则演变而来，是因为，首先，大家都一致承认并肯定，学识使人饱满。其次，还可以通过以下三段论法来证明这一点：话语不过是风，学识不过是话语，因此，学识不过是风。由于这样的原因，他们中的哲学家，在学校就是通过打嗝来向他们的学生阐述其所有学说和观点的，而学生们也因此获得了各种各样雄辩的口才。但是，他们中那些杰出的智者最棒、最显著的特点是一个特定的神态，这神态明确无误地表明精神对其体内物质的扰动达到了何种程度或强度。因为，在嗝逆之后，风与气味同时发了出来，首先，在湍流和气动作用下，它会在人体内的小小世界引起震动，使人咧嘴、缩腮，眼睛露出可怕的表情。此时此刻，他们打出的嗝不但被视为无比神圣，而且越酸越臭越好，被他们卑微的追随者带着无限的欣慰全盘接受下来。并且（为了使这一过程更趋完美），由于人的生命气息是从鼻孔呼出的，因此最好、最有益、最生动地接受它的途径，也是经过那里，以便在其通过的时候给他们以嗅酊般的刺激。

这四种气就是他们的神。他们将其视为激活宇宙并遍布于其中的精神予以崇拜，并且相信惟此四种气就足以给人以所有灵感。然而其中最主要的，也就是令他们latria【178】的，是万能的“北”。这是一个古老的神，受到希腊大都市人的最高级别的尊敬：omnium deorum Boream maxime celebrant【179】。这个神，虽然被认为无处不在，但在更深邃的伊奥利亚人看来，拥有一个独特的居所，或（用正式语言表述）一个coelum empyraeum【180】。他更习惯于出现在这里。此居所坐落的那个地区，古希腊人都知道，名为Σμοτα【181】，或黑暗的土地。虽然这一点曾引起很大争议，但无可争议的一点是，伊奥利亚人中最优秀之辈都认为自己源于类似的一个名字，其祭司也世世代代从中获得最精妙的灵感。他们亲手将灵感从那些气囊的源头找出来，并在所有国家的非教会派的新教徒中释放。而这些人在此之后便天天气喘吁吁，不论是在过去、现在还是永远的将来。

不错，他们的神秘仪式就是这样进行的。有学问的人都知道，古代的艺术鉴赏家有一项发明，就是用气囊或储气桶保存并携带风，这对于长期的海上航行有很大帮助。而今这一有用技艺竟然失传了，实在令人遗憾，尽管我不清楚潘西罗鲁斯【182】是如何粗心大意，竟然把它遗漏了的。这是一项应归功于埃俄罗斯【183】本人的发明，这一教派的名字也源于此。不仅如此，他们为了纪念这位创始人，至今还保存下来大量这样的桶，并且在他们的每个殿里都安放一个，事先把上盖去掉。每逢庄严的日子，祭司就钻进桶里。在这里，他在按上面提到的方法做好一切准备之前，还要用一个神秘的漏斗将他的下身和桶底连起来，桶底通过北面的裂缝或罅隙接受新鲜灵感。于是你看到他立即膨胀到桶的形状和大小。在这种状态下，作用在下方的精神仿佛在向他发话，他把整场风暴注入他的听觉，它从ex adytis et penetralibus【184】发出，并非没有莫大的痛苦和不安。而吹进来的风作用在他的脸上就如同海风，先是让脸先变黑，继而增加皱纹，接着破裂成泡沫。神圣的伊奥利亚人就是用这种方法向他们气喘吁吁的门徒传达神谕的。他们中有的人在神圣之气出来之后便贪婪地张大嘴巴，有的则不停地吟唱对风的颂歌，并随着自己哼唱的节奏轻轻地来回摆动，以表达他们的神灵之微风的安抚作用。

正是这种祭祀习惯，使一些作家认为伊奥利亚人属于世界上非常古老的人种。由于我上文提到的神秘交易与其他古代圣贤的方法几乎完全相同，灵感均来自于某些藏而不露、奇臭无比的气源，不但将它传给祭司很痛苦，对人们产生的影响也基本上是一样的痛苦。事实上，这一过程还经常由女性提供者来主持或引导，一般认为她们的器官更有利于接受那些神圣的风，以更大的容器让风进入和通过，并顺带为其增加淫欲的成分，这就好比通过必要的安排，从肉欲的淫荡变为精神的渴望。为支持这一深邃的猜想，还有人进一步强调说，这一女祭司习俗至今仍保留于一些现代伊奥利亚教派中。人们同意接受她们来自上述容器的灵感，就像她们的女巫先祖一样。

一个人只要不断给他的头脑以刺激和约束，他那永不停歇的思想就会本能地在两个极端的世界之间遨游：高与低，善与恶。通常，在他头脑中闪现的第一道灵光总把他带入最完美、光鲜和高尚的遐想，直到其飞升至他自己以及视线所及的范围以外，且无法确切感知至高和至低这两个极端是多么靠近的时候。然后，他又以同样的飞行方法和路线，垂直落到最低点，就如同一个人向东行进却来到西边，或者画一条直线，画得足够长就成了一个圈。难道是我们天性中恶的一面总使我们喜欢用相反的意念装饰每一个高明的想法，还是我们用以解释事物的推理，像太阳一样，只能照亮地球的一半，让另一半不得不留在阴影和黑暗中，还是总朝向思想中的最高尚、最美好方向飞翔的幻想已错过目标，疲劳过度，像一只死去的天堂鸟一般突然坠落到地面，还是经过如此这般的形而上学推理，我尚且没有完全错过其真正的原因，而这一在如此复杂条件下伴随我的命题，其实是全真的？这就像人类最不文明的部分也有某种途径或方法，从概念上爬到上帝或至高权力的高度，因而他们一般都不会忘记给自己的恐惧添加一些可怕的想象，这尽管不能更好地，却能在一定程度上让他们对魔鬼有所容忍。【185】而这一过程似乎是再自然不过的事情，因为它发生在想象力被极度拔高的人身上，其拔高度和那些身体被拔高的人一样；因此，随着他们为类似向上的意念而高兴的同时，却也同样为万丈深渊的前景感到恐惧。所以，在选择魔鬼的时候，人类的通常方法一直是，无论基于实际行动还是视觉感官，挑选那些他们所塑造的神最为反感的事物。这也正是伊奥利亚教派所采取的方法，他们把对两种本性之恶的恐惧和仇恨附在自己身体上，并且在此两种恶与他们所崇拜的神灵之间建立起永久的敌意。而这两种恶中的一个是变色龙，灵感不共戴天的仇敌，它充满蔑视地吞噬着他们所敬之神的巨大影响力，却连打嗝这样微小的回报都不肯付出。另一个称为Moulinavent【186】，是个巨大的可怕怪物，它有四条强悍的胳膊，与神进行着永不停歇的搏斗，不但能巧妙地躲避他们的打击，还能以更多的打击回敬他们。

著名的伊奥利亚人就是这样与神和魔鬼周旋的。这使他们在当今世界成为如此著名的一族，同时，那礼貌的拉普兰人【187】，毫无疑问，是一个最有代表性的分支。因此，对于这样的人，我不能不以正当的理由在此大加颂扬，因为他们显然为了利益和志趣而与他们的兄弟，我们中的伊奥利亚人如此紧密地联合在一起，不仅从同一批发商那里购买风，而且用同样的价格和方法向非常类似的客户兜售。

那么，不论上文所描述的这个系统完全系由杰克发明，还是如一些作家所言，是从德尔菲【188】的原版抄袭而来，仅经过某些补充和修订，以适应具体时间和环境，我对此不得而知。但有一点我可以肯定的是，杰克至少给它带来了一个新的转折，使它形成了我上文所演绎的衣服及式样。

对于这样一个社会，我对其中的成员有一种特殊的景仰，而他们的观点和习俗却一直受到其反对者出于恶意和无知的极度歪曲和中伤，我一直都在寻求机会为他们正名。因为我认为，消除偏见，将事物最原本、最真实的面貌公之于众，是人类最伟大、最优良的品德。所以我要大胆地这样做下去，除了良心、荣誉和感激之外，我没有考虑个人得失。

第九章　题外话：关于一个联合王国疯病的起源、利用和改进

对于这样一个著名教派，其声誉所系、不容以任何方式歪曲的一点是，它的兴起和确立都归功于我上文所描述的那位创始人杰克。此人神智颠倒，大脑因错乱而失常，这也就是我们通常所说的精神紊乱，或称为疯狂或狂躁。因为，只要我们观察一下世上所有由一个人发起的最大规模行动，不论是通过征服建立新帝国，在哲学领域新的突破和进展，还是新宗教的发明和传播，我们都会发现，其创始人的正常思维发生了巨大的改变，这见于他们的饮食、教育、某些主导性的脾气性格，受到某种特殊的空气或天气的影响。此外，人类思想中的某些个性想法，容易在一些偶然出现的特定情况下相互碰撞，产生火花，尽管最初看上去微不足道，却能引起燎原大火，激发人生最绚丽的壮举。伟大的转折并不总是出自孔武有力的双手，往往也会在适合的条件下应运而生。灵动之气一旦进入大脑，思想的火花无需外来的火种点燃。因为人的上层所有就相当于空气的中层，尽管本质上形成的过程迥异，但最后产出的实质和效用却是相同的。雾气从地表生成，浊气从粪堆生成，蒸汽从大海生成，烟气从火焰生成，所有的云都具有相同的成分和形状。从茅厕发出的气味，其提神作用与功效，丝毫不亚于祭坛上的熏香。凡此种种，我认为，都可以说明我自己。不仅如此，如果没有阴云受到扰动，大自然就永远不会下雨。同样，禁锢在人脑中的思想，必须受到下方器官所发出气体的扰动和侵袭，才能孕育发明并培养成果。可见，尽管上述这些气体来源的复杂性毫不亚于大气，但是它们产出的成果却由于土壤的不同而在种类和品性上截然不同。下面我举两个实例来证明并解释我的这一论断。

一位伟大的王子【189】组建了一支强大的军队，给自己的金库充满无数宝藏，还建立了一支无敌舰队。所有这些计划他丝毫没有向他的重臣或挚友透露。转瞬间世界就充满了杀气。邻近的王国个个十分恐慌，不知道战争风暴何时来临，各地的小道政治家们也纷纷猜测，莫衷一是。一些人认为他已经制定好了称霸世界的计划。另一些人经过分析认为，他的目标是推翻教皇，改革并重建宗教，也就是他自己曾经笃信的宗教。还有一些人更为睿智，认为他是要到亚洲去制服土耳其并恢复巴勒斯坦。处在所有这些计划准备的过程中，某位通过这些症状收集疾病特征信息的御医，企图尝试治疗。在手术实施的过程中，他竟然打破了气囊，把气体放了出来。没等采用任何手段完成补救，那不幸的王子就气绝身亡了。现在，读者是否迫不及待地想要了解这股气究竟来自何处，竟然长时间吸引那些国民的眼球？究竟是何种神秘动力，莫测源泉，竟能让如此美妙的引擎转动起来？后来人们发现，整台机器的运转不过是幕后的一位女性所致，她的一个眼神就引发隆起，但在尚未发射之前，她却被转移到一个敌对的国家。处于这样尴尬的境地，王子该如何应对？他尝试那位诗人的能容纳corpora quaeque【190】的诗句，但落空了，因为，

Idque petit corpus mens unde est saucia amore:

Unde feritur, eo tendit, gestitque coire.【191】

在漫无目的地使用各种和平手段的努力之后，聚到一处的部分精气升高并燃烧起来，转而阴沉，继而愤怒，转动位于脊髓腔上的头颅，上升至大脑。一个泼皮因为被某个娼妓甩了而产生的打碎她家窗户的冲动，与一位伟大的王子自发筹组强大的军队，一心梦想攻城拔寨、驰骋疆场、凯旋而归的冲动，如出一辙。

— Teterrima belli

Causa —【192】

另一个实例出自我读过的一个非常古老的故事。有一个强大的国王【193】，为了取乐，在长达三十年的时间里交替不断地攻取、失守城池。他打败敌军，又被敌军打败。他把王子赶出他们的领土，吓唬孩子并抢走他们口中的面包和黄油。不论是否是他的臣民，不论朋友还是敌人，不论男女，他都一概烧杀抢掠。据记载，不同国家的哲学家们在探讨其中的原因、性质、道德和政治背景的时候产生了很大的分歧，难以找出解释这种现象的根本原因。最后，气体或精神占据了这位英雄的大脑，并在其中不断循环，进而占领了身体中那个提供zibeta occidentalis【194】的著名区域，并在那里聚集形成一个肿瘤。有了这一说法，当时的世人便不再争执不下了。上述重大结果就是由于精气在此壅滞，不再继续运行所致。同样的精气如果在上层运行，可以征服一个王国，下降到直肠，就造成肛瘘。

下面让我们研究分析在哲学领域引进新思想的伟大人物，以期找到以下结果：究竟出于灵魂的何种本能，得以让凡人在自己的头脑中产生冲动，为所有人都表示无法理解的事物，构建新的思想体系，并以惩般高涨的热情推而广之：这样的冲动究竟萌发自什么样的种子，这样的伟大发明家究竟仰仗其何种人格，从而获得数量众多的门徒。因为显而易见，这些人中最主要的几个，不论是古代的还是现代的，都被他们的敌人误解为疯子或精神错乱。事实上，除了他们的追随者中为数不多的几个，其余的都被所有人误解为疯子或精神错乱。对于语言和行为的正常规范，他们所采用的推理方法截然不同于凡夫俗子简单粗糙的推理；对于他们中的几个典型，我大体上赞同他们今天的继任者现代精神病学的原则分析，并将对其中的精华和原理做适当的深入研究，采用类似于伊壁鸠鲁、第欧根尼【195】、阿波罗尼奥斯【196】、卢克莱修、帕拉切尔苏斯【197】以及笛卡尔【198】等人的方法。这些人如果还在世，不论与他们的追随者紧密联系还是分开，在我们这个没有区别的时代，都将招致放血、鞭挞、枷锁乃至卧薪黑牢等危险。在自然规律或状态下思考的人，为什么会想到将其他所有人的思想局限在与自己思想的长度、宽度和高度完全一致的框框里？然而这却是所有创新者在思想的王国里首先想到的问题。伊壁鸠鲁曾希望，在某个时刻，出于某种机缘巧合，所有人的观点在经过无休止的相互碰撞之后——锋利与柔润，轻与重，圆与方——骤然一致起来。同时，通过某种clinamina【199】，统一于某个原子或虚空点上，就如同宇宙万物起源于虚空。笛卡尔曾说，他在自己死之前看到了所有哲学家的情绪，就像许多小星星遨游在他的浪漫国度，并被他的旋涡所淹没并溺死。现在，我倒很乐意听听，如果不用我所阐明的在较低器官所生成的气体作用于大脑，并在那里精馏成概念，而对此我们贫乏的母语尚没有其他更合适的名字可以描述，只能称之为疯狂或狂躁，对此类特定人群的这种想象力还能有其他的解释吗？因此，现在就让我们来设想一下，所有这些伟大的哲人都无不给他们自己以及他们的理论招徕了一批盲从的信徒，这究竟是为什么。而在我看来其中的原因很简单：在人类理解能力的和谐世界里，有一根特殊的琴弦，它分成若干段，每一段的音调都完全相同。假如你能巧妙地找到与之一致的键位，并轻轻地敲击它，如果你的运气足够好，弹出的音与它们的完全一致，那么在某种神秘谐振现象的作用下，那几根弦就会同时发出声音。这种情况的出现取决于技巧和偶然性，因为，如果碰巧你弹出的音不那么准，高了或者低了，那么你的教义就不会有人追随，相反你将被作为疯子捆绑起来，只能得到一些活命的面包和水。因此，最好的办法是对这一高深的技巧进行甄别，在不同的时间对不同的人有针对性的采用。在这方面西塞罗【200】就很聪明，他在给一个英格兰朋友写信的时候，除了其他内容，他还谨慎写下了谨防被我们的出租马车夫欺骗（当时的他们似乎和现在差不多，都是些反复无常的无赖）的精彩文字：Est quod gaudeas te in ista loca venisse, ubi aliquid sapere viderere。【201】恕我大胆直言，这是一条不归路，从伦常事理来说如此不通的是，在一些人中间不过是个傻瓜的你，在另一些人中可能被视为智者。希望我所认识的某些绅士能把此话作为及时的暗讽在心中掂量掂量。

事实上，这的确是那位高贵的绅士，我最聪明的挚友沃顿先生的致命错误。他是一个表面看上去注定有更大发展和成就的人，不论你是否考虑他的信念或样子。绝对没有人在进入公共视线的时候，有比他传播一种新宗教时更适当的身心准备。啊，设想一下：那些快乐的人才，因误用虚妄的哲学，进入适合他们的梦想和愿望的渠道，在那里扭曲心灵和表情是如此高尚的行为，以至于对此忿忿不平的下层世界都不敢直言有什么地方出了问题，或直言他的大脑已不幸进水。对此就连作为他兄弟的现代主义者，都像不肯领情的人一样不禁大声耳语，声音之大正在顶楼上写作的我都听到了！

最后，从古至今，凡喜欢研究狂热之源流的人，如果沿这条肥水不断寻根求源，就会发现它的源头和下游一样污浊和不平静：而最大的发现就是气体中的嗅酊，世人称之为疯狂。并发现，如果没有它，世界不但不能得到两个伟大的祝福——征服和次序——甚至所有世人还不幸会对看不见的东西具有相同的认识。【202】然而，以前有一种postulatum【203】认为，这股气从何而来并不重要，重要的是在何种角度上它作用于传播和理解，或它的升华将到达何种大脑。这是一个非常微妙的切入点，它为明智而好奇的读者分清了若干理由，大脑区区数值上的差异，如何在同一种气体的作用下产生如此巨大差异，成为区别亚历山大大帝、莱顿的杰克【204】和笛卡尔先生等人品的唯一分界点？这里所讨论的问题是我所经历的最抽象的；是对我的心智最强有力的考验：因此我希望读者也拿出最大的诚意。因为下面我还要继续索解这一棘手问题。

人类具有某种

Hic multa desiderantur【205】

我认为这就是问题的答案。如此这般勉强地通过这个复杂的问题之后，我相信读者会同意我的结论，那就是，如果现代人认为，疯狂只是大脑受到发自较低器官的某种气体的影响造成的某种扰动或错乱，那么这种疯狂正是那些发生在帝国的伟大革命、哲学思想以及宗教派别的源头。因为大脑如果处于自然的条件和状态下，就会引导它的主人以常人的方式宁静地生活，而不会产生丝毫要民众服从自己的权力、推理或愿景的念头。并且他越是用人类学习的通常模式规范自己，就会越远离将自己的某个特殊想法发展成派系的倾向，因为这让他明白自己的软弱无能和人们的顽固无知。但是当一个人的奇想超越了理性，想象力与感觉器官的具体感受发生了冲突，其中的常识判断和理解都被踢出九霄云外，他让自己首先成为第一个改变信仰者，那这信仰一旦有了指针，也就不难吸引他人了。不论作为外因还是内因，妄想都具有同样强大的作用。花言巧语和美好愿景对于耳朵和眼睛的作用，就相当于胳肢对于触觉的作用。那些我们最珍视的生活中的娱乐和乐趣不过是对感官的欺骗和玩弄。因为，如果我们认真考虑我们通常所谓的幸福究竟是什么，以及它与理解或感觉的关系，我们就会发现，它所有的特征和属性都符合这样一个简单的定义：一个永恒的骗局。首先，对于思想或良知来说，很明显的一点是，想象的威力大大胜过客观事实，而理性也在其中发挥作用。因为想象力可能引起的革命，比起真正耗费金钱或资源所能得到的要更为神奇得多。人类的这种偏执所造成的结果也并不怪他们自己，如果我们考虑到，辩论通常发生在过去的事情和认知的事情之间，那么问题症结仅仅是，无论想象中的事物是否被恰当地描述为存在于记忆中的事物，记忆都可以作为一个公正的凭据，并且非常有利于想象，因为它是公认的一切事物的诞生地，其他一切都至多不过是事物的坟墓。再说，如果我们采纳这一有关幸福的定义，并用感官作为参照来分析它，就不得不承认它们之间完美的吻合。所有我们遇到的事物，如果不通过幻想的渠道加以理解，是何等模糊和平淡！同样，在自然的镜子中显现的一切事物是何等渺小！因此，如果没有人为媒介的帮助，虚假的灯光、精选的折射角度、添枝加叶，那么普通人的幸福指数才会达到很高的水平。假如世人能认真考虑这一点（对此我有充分的理由怀疑），人们就不会将他们最高的智慧诉诸于揭露缺点和暴露阴暗面的艺术。【206】这种做法不论是好是坏，在我看来都与摘掉面具相仿，而这不论在现实世界还是剧场演出中从来都是不允许的。

从程度上说，轻信倒是比好奇更为平和的思想活动，但是不及将事物的表面与深入其内部的所谓哲学相关联的智慧，而这种哲学带回的严肃信息和发现是，事物的内部毫无用处。所有事物最初呈现给人的两种感觉是视觉和触觉，而从这两种感觉只能分析出事物的颜色、形状、大小及其表面实际存在的或经工艺加工的东西，仅此而已。然后就要运用拥有大量工具的推理，其中包括切割、扩张、碾压、穿刺等，以提供它们实质上相异的证据。现在，我要说所有这一切都是极度反自然的。自然的一个永恒的法则是将她最好的一面呈现出来。因此，为了以后能够节省所有这些昂贵的解剖费用，我坚持认为很有必要在这里告诉读者，在以上这些结论中推理显然是正确的，对于我所认识的大多数具有肉体的事物而言，外在的远远比内在的更可取；而我最近的研究分析使这一点得到了更充分的证实。上周我看到一个女人脱去衣服，你很难相信这让她本人变得多么糟糕。昨天我要求在我面前脱去一具美男尸体的衣服，这时我们才惊奇地发现，在一套衣服里隐藏着多少未知的缺点。然后我打开他的大脑，他的心，他的脾，我真切地发现，我们的每一步操作越是往下进行，所发现的缺陷就越多、越大。从这一切中我公正地为自己形成这样一个结论，无论什么样的哲学家或策划者，如果能发现焊接或修补自然缺陷或不足的艺术，那他们和那些当今因放大并暴露缺陷而受到如此尊敬的人（例如认为解剖是医学的终极目标的人）比起来，都是更为出色的人，是他们把更有用的科学教给我们。那些被命运和处世态度置于某个位置，可以方便地享受这一高尚艺术成果【207】的人，可比伊壁鸠鲁，是满足于分离表层和图像的印象，使之作用于对事物外表的感知的人。【208】这样的人，真的很聪明，榨取自然的营养，让哲学和理性去舔舐那些酸屑与糟粕。这就是福运的高贵与精明，可称为对上当的执迷，是在一群无赖中充当傻瓜的平静状态。【209】

再说疯狂。毋庸置疑，根据以上我所作的系统分析，每一物种都从冗余的气体中获益，因此，由于一些种类的狂暴能为肌肉提供双倍能量，说明也有其他东西能给大脑增加活力、动力和精神。然而，经常发生的情况是，这些积极的精神一旦占领大脑，就变得像在他人废弃空无一人的住房徘徊，由于无所事事，要么只好带着房子的一部分消失，要么呆在家里把它从窗口整个儿扔出。【210】这就是疯狂的两个主要分支的神秘表现，对此不少哲学家的研究不如我深入，误认为这种区别来自于不同的原因，并草草把第一种归因于缺少，把第二种归因于冗余。

我认为，上述情况说明，按我所作的推理分析，主要关键点在于给冗余的气体派上用场，并谨慎为其调整时机。这样一来就完全有可能在一个联邦国家产生红衣主教和天主教的功效。因此，一个人，选对适当的时机，跃入一个海湾，在那里变成英雄，就被称为国家的救星。另一个虽采用同样的步骤，可惜时机不对，致使疯狂所形成的烙印与记忆发生抵触。正由于这显著的差异，我们才受到这样的教导：满怀敬意与挚爱地重复库尔提斯【211】的名字，满怀仇恨与蔑视地重复恩培多克勒【212】的名字。同样，人们通常认为老布鲁特斯【213】是为了公众的利益才扮演傻子和疯子的角色。但这些都只不过是同样冗余的气体长时间无用武之地所致，用拉丁语说就是ingenium par negotiis【214】；或者，如将其尽我所能译成英语，就是一种狂躁，若不将它用于国家大事，它就永不安定。【215】

由于这些原因，以及其他一些同等重要但不一定同等有趣的原因，我这里要高兴地拥抱一个我一直在寻找的机会：我有一项十分高尚的事业要推荐给爱德华·西摩【216】爵士，克里斯托弗·马斯格雷夫【217】爵士，约翰·鲍尔斯【218】爵士，约翰·豪【219】先生以及其他爱国人士，那就是，他们应该申请通过一项法案，任命一批委员对疯人院及有权投送人员、文件和记录的相关部门进行检查，并且要深入检查到每个学员和教授的优点和资质；对其性情和行为诸方面要进行最细致的观察，以区别并匹配他们的才干，他们可能为国家机关发明令人称奇的民用和军用仪器，在程序上采用我在这里谦恭地提出的方法。我希望大度的读者看在我对那高尚社会崇高敬意的分上，允许我对这一重大议题表达我极大的诚意，而我也曾一度有幸成为它不值一提的一员。

是否有任何学员将毫无价值的东西撕得粉碎、咒骂并亵渎神灵、咬牙切齿、口吐白沫、并把尿壶泼向观察者的脸？那就让检查委员运用他们那令人羡慕的权力给他一个骑兵团，将他和其他人一道送到弗兰德斯【220】。还有另一个人说个没完、含混不清、又打哈欠，又大嚷大叫，既无标点又无停顿？那是被放错了位置的多么了不起的人才！应立即为他提供一个绿包和一些纸，【221】再给他口袋里塞三个便士，【222】让他去威斯敏斯特会堂。你也许还会发现第三个人在严肃地丈量他的茅屋，那是一个颇具远见和洞察力的人，尚未崭露头角。因为这就像摩西，ecce cornuta erat ejus facies【223】，走在适当的地方，用适当的严肃而庄重的神情向你乞讨，还述说很多的艰难时事、税收和巴比伦的娼窝【224】。晚上八点钟关闭并锁上他的小屋的木窗户，梦到火、扒手、法院的常客以及特权之所在。现在，如果所有这些诉求的主人与他的弟兄们一道被打发到城市里，那它们将导致怎样的结果！再看第四个，他在不断深入地自言自语，时不时咬着自己的拇指，面部表情不断随内心的盘算和设计发生变化；时而飞快行走，眼睛盯在手里拿的报纸上；一个大量节省时间的人，没有灵敏的听觉，也没有长远的目光，却有更好的记忆；一个永远匆忙的人，一个实业的伟大孵化器和增殖机，擅长无言的耳语的高超艺术；一个对单音节词【225】拖长音无限崇拜的人，一个随时准备毫无保留地向任何人谏言的人；一个早已忘记单词常用的意思，却令人钦佩地记得其发音的人，语言支离破碎，因为总被意外情况打断。如果你在他最常消磨的时间段来到他的壁炉旁边，【226】他会说，先生，给我一个便士，我将为你放歌一曲，但是你要先付钱（因此才有这样的俗语，更有这样的实践：为歌舍钱）。这是一场多么完整、面面俱到的法庭技巧演示，却因用错了地方而完全失落了！走近另一个茅屋（你先得捂住鼻子），你会看到一个粗暴、阴森、肮脏、邋遢的人，与自己的粪便为伍，满身是自己的尿液。他饮食的最佳部分是经加工的自己的排泄物，它先是腐败蒸发，继而不停盘旋，最后再吸入体内。他的面色是肮脏的黄色，有稀疏的胡须，与他饮食的首次衰变很相配，并与其他那些出生并成长在粪便里的昆虫无异，从那里获得自身的颜色和气味。出自这种公寓的学生惜字如金，但是对呼吸比较随意：他伸出手准备接受你的施舍，得到之后便立即回到他以前的行当。现在，想一想沃里克巷【227】的学会竟然不再关心如此有用的成员的回归，难道不令人吃惊吗？正是这样的成员（如果通过上述外表就能确定），将成为那高尚群体的最大亮点。另一个学员在你面前趾高气扬，撅起嘴，睁大眼睛，并很优雅地向你伸出手来要求亲吻。看守劝你不要害怕这直率的人，因为他不会伤害你，而且他是唯一被允许自由出入前厅的人，而那里的演说家让你明白，这个严肃的人是一个因自傲而走火入魔的裁缝。这个出色的学员还有其他许多好品质，恕我这里不再一一述及。听我说，假如所有这一切有关他的说法、他的动作、他的做派显得不特别自然，不与环境相吻合，那才是怪事呢。

我还不至于那么小气，竟支持许多有情人、小提琴手、诗人和政治家的观点，认为通过这样的改革就可以让世界复原了。除了有如此大量的人才，他们的智慧和学识，如果我可以冒昧肯定的话，现在是被埋没，或者至少被误用了，而把他们派上用场能给国家利益带来明确的好处之外，公众将得到的更为实质性的巨大好处是，正如对他们的调查所展示的那样，所有这些人不但非常优秀，而且在若干方面已达到完美的程度。这，在我看来，一如我上文的明确展示，必将由这样一个简单的道理所加强：即使我本人，这个说出如此伟大真理的作者，也是一个想象力难以驾驭、动辄信口开河的人。从长期的经验中我已经观察到，我的思想是一个轻佻的骑手，时常会落马。因此，如果没有庄严地承诺抒发我的思想，或诸如此类的承诺，我的朋友为了人类的普遍利益就永远不会放任我单独行动。对此，我的那些温柔的、坦诚的、彬彬有礼的、职业生涯充满现代慈善和温情的读者，恐怕很难相信。

第十章　“澡盆故事”

近年来作者群和读者群之间的礼尚往来，成为在一个非常精致的年代难得正解的话题。几乎没有一个剧本、小册子或诗集出现的时候不带有一篇充斥着世界对此书广泛接受和赞誉的前言。只有天知道，所有这些究竟是在哪儿、什么时候、怎样或被谁接受了。然而出于对这样一个值得称道的习惯应有的尊重，我在这里也要将我卑微的谢意献给元首阁下和议会两院，献给国王最尊贵的枢密院的议员们，献给尊敬的法官们、神职人员、贵族、这片土地上自由的民众；并以一种更特别的方式，献给我在威尔的咖啡屋、格雷沙姆学会、沃里克巷、穆尔菲尔德【228】、苏格兰院【229】、威斯敏斯特会堂、伦敦市政厅的弟兄和朋友们，简而言之，献给所有居民及其家人，无论他们在法庭、教堂、营地、城市还是乡村，感谢他们的慷慨和对这本神圣著作的普遍接受。我带着极度的感恩接受他们的赞许和好评，并将尽我所有微薄之力，抓住一切机会回报他们。

同时我很欣慰地感到命运对我的眷顾，使我如此幸运地降生在这个书商和作者利益共享的时代。这两者，我可以很有把握地肯定，是当今在英格兰仅存的感到满意的两大派系。如果你问一位作者，他最近出版的作品是否成功，当然，他会感谢他的星座，世人对它非常看好，他没有任何抱怨的理由：然而，上……，写这本书他只花了一周时间，而且是从他的各种紧急事务中抽时间断断续续拼凑起来的。对此你十有八九会在其前言中看到更多，他会让你看前言。而要了解更多的书你就要去找书商了。你作为顾客来到书商那儿，会遇到类似的情况：上帝祝福他，他的作品销路很好，现在已经是惊人的第二版了，而且店里仅剩下三本。于是你开始讨价还价：先生，我们本来是不减价的，但考虑到你可能是回头客，你认为多少钱合适就出多少钱吧。“请别忘记向你的每个朋友推荐这本书，只要他们来买，价钱都和你的一样优惠。”

如今，那些伟大作品中精彩部分感动世人的情况时有出现；但这究竟应感谢什么样的机遇或条件，这个问题尚未得到认真考虑。若没有天阴下雨，没有醉汉守夜，没有糟糕的脾气，没有医学疗程，没有昏昏欲睡的星期天，没有使人沉迷的骰子，没有裁缝长长的账单，没有乞丐的钱包，没有发昏的头脑，没有炎热的太阳，没有造成便秘的饮食，没有想要的书，没有厌学的情绪：倘若没有所有这一切，以及其他许许多多难以计数的理由（特别是一个出于审慎考虑而疏于提及的误服硫磺的理由），我怀疑作者和作品的数量将会缩小到看上去极为可怜的程度。为进一步证实这一点，请听听一位著名穴居【230】哲学家的论断：不错，他说，一些愚蠢的成分显然是作为人类本性一部分的附属品，而我们能做的只不过是选择倾向于将它暗藏于身还是明戴于身，同时我们也无须对通常如何确定它刨根问底，只要我们牢记：它和人能力的关系就如同它和液体的关系，最轻的总是在最上面。

在英国这个著名的岛国有一个微不足道的小文人，他藏有非常大量的书籍，读者对此人并非完全陌生。他擅长经营一类有害的作品，称为二流作品，但他通常私下把它归到一流作品的名下。我很容易就联想到，只要我的这本书一放下笔，这个机灵小子就会前来偷盗它。对待我就像他曾经对待布莱克摩尔【231】博士、莱斯特兰奇【232】博士及其他很多不知名的人物一样残忍。因此，为了伸张正义，我向伟大的马鞍修理专家、人类的爱神本特利博士请求援手，希望他用他那最现代的思维考量一下这一莫大的冤情：假如事情果真如此发生，一个作用于屁股、形式上属于二流作品的马鞍，由于我的罪恶，必须被错误地安在我的背上，他就会立即当着世人的面，【233】愉快地为我解除这一负担，并把它带回自己家里，直到真正的畜生认为需要它。

同时我在这里要发布如下宣言，我决心把多年来我一直精心筹划的宏伟构想整体上限定在这一本书里。因为我的话匣子一旦打开，我就希望，为了我亲爱的国家的特殊利益以及全人类的普遍利益，一口气把所有的话都倾倒出来。因此，友好地考虑到我的客人的数量，以及他们要在一顿盛宴中享用我的所有款待，我不屑于将剩下的饭菜放在柜橱里。客人们吃剩下的可以送给穷人，餐桌下面的狗可以啃骨头。这，在我看来，比起邀请这些人明天再来品尝残羹剩饭，是更为慷慨的做法。

如果读者能充分认识到我前面所谈内容的分量，我相信这一定会对他的思想观念产生奇妙的革命性影响，而且他还将对接受并享受这一神机妙论的最后部分做好了倍加充分的准备。读者可以分为三类：肤浅的、无知的和有识的。而我有幸让我的笔触完全适合他们每一类的天赋和长处。肤浅的读者会因感觉怪异而大笑，这就清理了他们的胸腔和肺部，控制他们的脾气，而且对利尿非常有帮助。而无知的读者，他们与前者之间的区别非常微妙，会发现自己目瞪口呆，这对治疗眼部疾患十分有益，帮助提升并活跃精神，还非常有助于排汗。然而对于读者中真正的有识之士，尤其是那些在别人熟睡时被我好心唤醒的以及在别人醒时熟睡的读者，会在这里找到足够的素材以供他下半生揣摩。在这里，作为我热切的希望，我谦恭地提出一项实验，请每个基督教国家的国王在他的领土内选出七位学识最为渊博的学者，把他们关在七个屋子里七年时间，命令他们给这篇综合论述写七篇详细注释文章。我敢断言，无论他们的若干猜想有什么样的区别，都将是明明白白、不带明显失真地从此文本推导而来。同时还有一点我要认真请求，如果这些陛下允许的话，请在方便的时候尽快实施此项行动。因为我有一个强烈的愿望，就是在我离开这个世界之前，体验一把我们这些神秘主义作家很少在有生之年体验到的名声，不管这名声是一个被嫁接在主干上的几乎不能生长的果实，更不要说在主干腐朽入土之前成熟，还是一只猛禽，和其他伙伴一道，被腐肉的气味引诱到一具尸体旁，还是它【234】认为只有站在坟头上，自己的喇叭才音色最美，传得最远，因为这里高出地平面，且下面的墓室可以起到共鸣的作用。

的确，对于无名作家来说，一旦他们在这黑暗王国找到死亡的良好归宿，那对于他们的成名，不论在品类上还是在程度上，都是莫大的幸福。由于夜晚是一切事物之母，明智的哲学家认为所有著作的成功都与其黑暗的程度成正比。因此，真正被照明的（也就是最黑暗的）就招致了如此难以计数的品评，致使其学术嫁接的可能性催生出无数作者本人可能永远想象不到的意思，却被合法地认为是这一切的执笔者。这样作家的言语就像种子，尽管是随意撒的，但当它们落在一块多产的土地上时，结出的果实却远远超出播种者的希望或想象。

因此，为了促进如此有益的一项工作，我将在这里略表一下有关暗讽的话题，对于那些分工对这一妙不可言的著述努力提出普遍批评的可敬人士来说，这或许会有巨大的帮助。首先，对于数字“0”我有一个非常神秘的谜，它乘以7并除以9。【235】同样，如果蔷薇十字会【236】的某个虔诚的弟兄热切地连续祈求长达六十三个早晨，并满怀赤诚之心，然后根据说明在第二和第五章调换某些字母和音节，就一定会领悟到整部巨著的全部精髓。最后，任何人只要不畏艰难地计算出这篇文章所用的每个字母的数量，并精确地总结出这些数量之间的区别，给每一区别都找一个合情合理的解释，就会发现其结果将是对他的劳动丰厚的回报。但是他必须对Bythus【237】和Sigé【238】十分小心，并一定不要忘记Achamoth【239】的品质；à cujus lacrymis humecta prodit substantia, à risu lucida, à tristitia, et à timore mobilis。【240】这其中尤金尼厄斯·菲拉莱蒂斯【241】犯了一个不可原谅的错误。

第十一章　“澡盆故事”

在如此宽阔的领域徜徉之后，现在我要欣然将我的故事收尾了，并且从此用较为均匀一致的步调结束我的旅程，除非行进途中我看到什么精彩的景色。对此虽然我目前没有看到任何征兆也不抱任何期望，但是如果这样的情况真的和我不期而遇，我请求我的读者能够原谅我，并允许我引你一道看完这道风景。因为写作就像旅行；如果一个人急于回家（我承认我从来不这样，家里可没有那么好的事情让我轻松），而他的马又因长途骑行和崎岖的道路而疲惫不堪，或者本来就是匹老马，那我明确建议他走最直、最普通的道路，不管它多脏。但是我们一定会碰到这样的人，充其量算是卑鄙的同伴，他每走一步都会给自己和旅伴身上溅上泥；他们所有的思想、祈愿、谈话都完全围绕着旅途终点的话题，每次溅起泥浆、趔趄或跌倒，他们都彼此衷心地祝愿对方见鬼去。

另一方面，如果一个旅行者和他的马匹都精神饱满，所带的钱包也鼓鼓的，还有一整天的时间，那他一定会挑干净、好走的路；还会和他的伙伴打趣取乐。但是如果难得出现这样的情况，让他和他的伙伴们一起来到一个令人愉快的场景画面，无论是艺术的还是自然的，或是两者兼有的，这时如果他们表示拒绝，不管出于无知也好，疲劳也好，见鬼，就让他们先走吧，他可以在下一个小镇赶上他们。当他到达那里的时候，他的马像一阵旋风般呼啸而过，男女村民和孩子们都跑出来诧异地观看，上百条狗在他身后边跑边吠，如果他挑其中最大胆的一条抽它一鞭子，它多半会夹着尾巴消失而不会报复；但是如果有哪条犯贱的杂种狗胆敢过于靠近挑衅，那它的腿上一定会得到他那匹骏马无意扬起的后蹄的一记回敬，这同样也不输什么，只见那条狗一瘸一拐嗥叫着跑回家去。

下面我将开始总结杰克的奇异冒险经历：关于他的现状、前途和命运，毫无疑问，细心的读者一定还清楚记得，我在前面某章节的结尾处已经提到过。因此，他的下一个关注点必定是，从那两个先行者身上总结出一套理念，以赋予将要发生的事情真正符合自己理解的意义。

杰克不仅非常慎重地把他头脑的第一次革命说成引发了伊奥利亚的流行教派，而且还使它成功进入到了一套花样百出的新奇思想体系，他丰富的想象力使他抱定的某些观念，虽然表面上十分不合常理，却自有其玄机和意义，同时也不乏追随者的质疑和改良。因此对我所收集到的这方面的详实材料，不管是通过了解传统还是认真阅读收集到的，我都要非常生动地加以复述，并在笔触所及的范围之内，尽可能形象地反映其高度和宽度。我也绝不会提出问题，而他们会提供大量高尚的事例，说明这样一个人的思想转变是如何激励他们把一切付诸文字的。他能产生影子，却无须借助太阳的帮助；他还能把影子打造成物质，也无须借助哲学的帮助。他特有的天赋在于将意象和寓言固化成文字，并把已成文的东西精炼成图景和秘诀。

杰克已将他父亲的遗嘱做成精致的副本，在一大张羊皮纸上工整誊清。由于下定决心扮演一个最孝顺的儿子，他成为可以想象的对遗嘱最关注的人。尽管其中关于那件外套的保养和穿着，我已多次告诉读者，是用非常直白、简单的语言写成，包括如何正确保管的说明以及服从和违反要求所带来的奖惩，然而他却开始接受一种奇想，认为这其中有更深的隐情，因而在最深处一定还有很多很多秘密。“先生们，”他说，“我要证明这张羊皮纸是肉、饮料、衣料，是魔法石和万能药。”在兴高采烈地说完这番话后，他决心将它用于人生必要的且最微不足道的场合。他有一种方法可以让它成为任何他所需要的形状，在他睡觉的时候它是睡帽，在下雨的时候它就是一把雨伞。如果某个脚趾疼，他会撕下一块包在那个脚趾上；如果痉挛突然发作，他就在鼻子底下焚烧它两英寸；如果他的胃感到胀满不适，就吞下落在一个银便士上的所有灰烬；所有这些都无不灵验。与这些文雅举止相应的是，他谈话的语言也完全是他意志的写照，而且他把自己的口才完全限制在这一领域范围内，不敢说出一个超出该范围、缺乏权威性的字眼。一次，在一个陌生的房子里，他的话突然被紧急情况打断，当时的情况不允许过于冗长的言语，他又缺乏机敏的反应，以在那种意外的场合得体地构思出一句要求走后门的权威短语，于是他只好选择最谨慎的做法，招致在此情况下常出现的处罚。从此人类所有修辞集之大成也不能让他把自己洗刷干净了，因为，在就此紧急事件查阅遗嘱的时候，他发现在接近末尾处有一个段落（不知是否誊写员自己添加的）似乎禁止这样做。

他把不在他的肉食面前祷告定为他的宗教生活的一部分，不由任何人分说，正如那句谚语所说，像基督徒的样子吃他的食物。

他有一种特别的嗜好，喜欢火中取栗【242】和吃燃烧着的蜡烛的紫色烛花。他能以难以想象的敏捷动作掐下灯花并吞下，这样他的肚子里就燃起一团永不熄灭的火，由于这团火，他的眼睛、鼻子和嘴里都不断冒烟，这使得他的头在黑夜里就像一头叫驴的颅骨。一个淘气的男孩在那里面放了一个小蜡烛，把他的君主陛下的臣民都吓了一跳。这样一来他回家就不需要其他东西照亮自己了，只是执着地说，一个聪明的人就是他自己的指路明灯。

走在大街上时他会闭上了眼睛。如果他撞上柱子或掉进阴沟里，这两件事他总是会碰上一样或两样都碰上，他就会告诉在一旁讥讽他的学徒，他已无条件地将自己完全交托给了命运的安排或打击，并且通过长期的经验他早已发现，试图和命运抗争或躲避命运的打击都是徒劳的，无论谁胆敢尝试其中任何一样都必然碰得头破血流。“这是命中注定的，”他说，“在出生的前几天，我的鼻子与这个柱子就已注定有一场遭遇，因此大自然才会让我和它同时出现在这个世界上，让我和它成为同胞。现在，我的眼界打开了，事情很有可能比这更糟糕，一个具有敏锐眼光的人每天会遭遇多少次如此可诅咒的跌倒？此外，领略一切的眼睛只有在这些感官都脱离正轨的时候才最为敏锐。因此我们才会看到，比起那些过度相信并依赖视觉神经的人，盲人行走的步伐，及其行为与判断，都加倍小心。正常人的视觉神经会因极其微小的意外而失灵，一滴水或薄膜可以彻底消失；就好比一盏灯淹没在一群咆哮着冲上街头的恶霸中，把它自己及其主人都置于暴徒的拳打脚踢之下。而如果暴露的虚荣心受到抑制，他们走在黑暗中，就能够逃过一劫。再进一步说，如果我们留意观察那些受到赞誉的灯具的作用，定会看到它与其命运相比还要糟糕很多。的确，我是在柱子上碰伤了鼻子，但那是因为此时我的命运要么就是忘了，要么就是认为没有必要拉我一把，或给我以任何躲避的提醒。但是绝不能仅凭这一点就说服现代人或后人将鼻子交由眼睛做主，这可能是失去鼻子最迅捷的途径。哦，眼睛，你这盲目的领路人，我们脆弱的鼻子的可悲的监护者，照我说，你执着于映入视野的第一道悬崖，竟然把我们可怜的、听你摆布的身体拖向毁灭的边缘。啊！那边缘已经腐烂，我们脚下一滑，跌了下去，冲向一个海湾，沿途没有救命的灌木阻挡我们下滑；这下滑没有一个凡人的鼻子能够经受得住，除了银桥之主巨人劳尔卡库【243】的。因此，哦眼睛，最好不过，以伟大的正义的名义，你就好似在污秽和黑暗中给人照亮的愚蠢的灯，终让他们掉进深渊或可怕的沼泽。”

我所复述的杰克这番话，比起他本人杰出的口才，以及他在如此深奥问题上的推理能力，都不过是九牛一毛而已。

除此之外，在吸引热情方面，他还是一个伟大的设计者和改进者，他引入了一个新的神，此神已经会聚了一大批崇拜者，有的人称之为巴别塔【244】，有的人称之为混乱，它在索尔兹伯里平原【245】有一个哥特式结构的古老寺庙，以其圣殿的盛名和朝圣者的欢庆闻名于世。

当他要搞恶毒的恶作剧时，他便下弯膝盖，上翻眼睛，开始祈祷，哪怕正在水沟里。那些了解他的恶作剧的人都和他保持一定的安全距离；而每当陌生人被好奇心吸引，走到近前发笑或听他念祷词的时候，他会突然用一只手掏出钻头并把尿全撒在他们的眼睛里，周围的所有其他人也用泥浆溅污他们。

冬天他只穿很薄而且宽松的衣服，并且不扣扣子，以让周围的热量进入，夏天他穿很厚并包裹严实的衣服，以阻隔周围的热量。

在政府所有的革命时期，他总能让自己的辩词成为绞刑司令官的公文，而在行刑之际，他要做的十分拿手的事情不是别的，惟有长祈祷而已。【246】

他有一个肌肉发达而活动灵敏的舌头，伸出来能够到他的鼻子，并从那里发出奇特的演讲。在这些王国里他也是第一个开始改善西班牙在驴叫方面成果的人，他自己的大耳朵永远都竖立着暴露在外，他把这项艺术演绎得如此完美，以至于要想通过观察或听声音来区分原身和替身，有非常大的难度。

他受到一种疾病的困扰，这种病与所谓的被狼蛛叮咬的情况正好相反，会在听到音乐，尤其是一组风笛的声音之后变得像疯狗一样。【247】但是他又可以通过到威斯敏斯特大厅，或到比林斯格特【248】，或到一个寄宿学校，或到皇家交易所，或到政府咖啡屋里转两三圈治好这种病。

他并不是一个害怕颜色的人，但是非常讨厌所有的颜色，【249】并且由于这个原因，他极度厌恶画家，厌恶之深使他走在街上发作的时候，会在口袋里塞满石头，一看到图画就向它投掷。

由于这种生活方式，他十分频繁地清洗自己。他经常会跳入没过头顶的水中，【250】哪怕是在冬季，但出来的时候总是注定比下去的时候更脏，如果他还能更脏的话。

他是第一个发现从耳朵输入催眠药剂秘方的人，它是一种复合剂，包括硫磺和基列【251】乳香，外加一点大便。

他腹部贴着一大块人造刺激性材料的膏药，它的烧灼作用可以使他发出呻吟，就像著名的肉砧板受到炽热的烙铁的炙烤。

他会站在街头的转角处，呼喊经过那里的行人，对一个大叫说：“尊贵的先生，请在我的皮套裤上狠狠打一巴掌。”一会又对另一个说：“我忠诚的朋友，请在我的屁股上踢一脚。夫人，我能恳求你高抬贵手赏我一记可爱的耳光吗？高贵的船长，为了上帝的爱，请痛打我一顿吧，用你的拐杖打在我可怜的肩头。”【252】当他用这番诚挚的恳求换来一顿痛打，足以让自己的思想和身体都充分膨胀以后，他就会带着莫大的安慰回到家中，用惊人的话语表达自己给公众利益带来好处。“看看这些伤痕”，他边说边露出肩头，“是一个可恶的土耳其士兵今天早上七点钟给我留下的。当时我费尽力气才把这土耳其壮汉赶走。邻居们，请再看这里，我的头也得到应有的重创，如果可怜的杰克的头再软一点，那你们早就会看到教皇和法国国王在你的妻子和你的仓库中间了。【253】亲爱的基督徒们，伟大的莫卧儿【254】也已经到来，到达白教堂了，却没有吞噬男人、女人和孩子们（上帝保佑我们）！你们得感谢我这可怜的身体。”

非常值得注意的一点是，杰克和他的兄弟彼得彼此之间看似甚至有几分虚假的厌恶或反感有一种非凡的效果。【255】彼得最近因为一些恶行不得不潜逃，并且，因为害怕警察，他不到天黑很少外出。他们俩的住所是这座城市的两个相隔最遥远的角落，每当他们的机缘或志趣驱使他们去国外，他们总会选择最不适合的时间，以及他们可以想到的最怪异的路线，为的就是避开对方。然而，尽管采取了这些办法，相遇却是他们永恒的宿命。这其中的原因很容易理解，因为他们的狂热和脾性都有相同的基础，我们可以把他俩看作一个圆规的两只脚，扩展程度相同，且全都固定在同一个中轴上，尽管开始移动的方向相反，但终将在圆周的某个点上会合。此外，最为不幸的是，杰克还与他的兄弟彼得极其相似。他们不仅在志趣和性情上相同，而且在形态、身材和相貌上也十分接近。两人的相似度是如此之高，以至于无比频繁发生的情况是，一个法警抓住杰克的肩膀大叫道：“彼得，你是国王的犯人。”还有一次，彼得的一个最亲近的朋友张开双臂欢迎杰克，并说：“亲爱的彼得，我真高兴看到你，你的祈祷给了我对付蠕虫的美妙良方。”这，我们不难看出，就是杰克苦苦经营了这么长时间所得到的难堪的回报，他看到自己所有努力是如何与他许给自己的唯一目的和意图相抵触，可怎样才能避免如此可怕的效果对他这样一个脑袋和心脏的冲击呢？不幸的是，他那件可怜的外套上残留着所有惩罚，东方升起的太阳走进他生活，每一天都让它们显现无遗。他雇了一个裁缝帮他缝补衣领，可是这让领口变得很紧，几乎使他窒息，还让他的眼珠子凸了出来，乍一看全是眼白。对于衣服所剩无几的主体部分，他每天要在粗糙墙壁上摩擦两个小时，以磨掉残余的花边和刺绣；但同时持续施以相当的暴力，就像对待一个异教的哲学家。然而，所做的这一切结果仍然令他大失所望。因为一般来说，破烂衣服在本质上与华丽衣服很有相似之处，两者从外表上看都飘着很多零碎儿，这在一定的距离之外，或在光线不好的情况下，或对于视力较差的人来说，并不容易分辨清楚。因而在这些情况下，杰克和他的破衣服给人的第一印象是一种很可笑的炫耀打扮，衬托出他十分类似的人品和气质，却挫败了他的一切试图制造区别的努力，并使他们二人如此相似，以至于他们各自的信徒都常常被彻底蒙骗了。Desunt non-nulla.【256】

有句古老的斯拉夫尼亚谚语说的好，对付人和对付驴一样，要想稳稳操控他们就必须有一个控制他们耳朵的好方法。而我认为，我们完全可以相信此说得到这样一条重复经验的检验：

—Effugiet tamen haec sceleratus vincula Proteus.【257】

因此，广泛阅读我们祖先中不同人物和不同时期的格言对我们大有裨益。因为，如果看一看原始记录，我们就会发现，没有任何革命的规模和频繁程度可以和人类的耳朵相比拟。以前曾经有一个抓住耳朵不放的奇特发明，我认为，我们完全可以理直气壮地认为那是artes perditae【258】，对此，考虑到这一艺术在后来的世纪里不仅减少到非常可悲的程度，而且那些少数流传下来的也退化到只会嘲笑我们鼎盛时期的高超技巧，难道还有什么可怀疑的吗？假如仅切掉一只雄鹿的一只耳朵就可以让这一非遗传缺陷传遍整座森林，那我们为什么还要惊叹在我们的先人和我们自己的耳朵上所发生的如此复杂的修剪和切割的神工呢？的确，在我们这个岛屿靠美德统治的时期，许多的努力都致力于提高我们耳朵的再增长。其比例之巨大不仅对于外向的人来说是一种显摆，而且对于内向的人也是一种恩典。此外，自然主义者认为，如果在身体的优越部位有一些东西隆起的话，比如耳朵和鼻子，那么在低劣部位也必然有同样的情况。因此，在那真正虔诚的时代，男人们在因其天赋招徕的集会中，总是很开放地暴露自己的耳朵及其所在部位。因为希波克拉底【259】告诉我们，一旦耳朵后面的静脉被切断，男人就会阳痿，而女人通过观看和受用它们则没有丝毫退化。她们中的那些已经使用此法的更是非常仔细地观察它们，希望以此怀上一个合意的后代；而其他作为仁爱的候选对象的则发现了更多样的选择，并当仁不让地把注意力集中于找到最大的耳朵上，以使种群不至在他们之间退化。最后，这些虔诚的姐妹们都将该部位所有非凡的膨胀视为凸显热情或精神的寄托物，并像接受恩典一般由衷赞许她们坐上的每个人头，特别是传教士的，他的耳朵通常是最大的。因此，他总是频繁而明确无误地将所有优点示人，而在他诗兴大发的时候会头头是道地谈论一件，有时也谈论另一件。从这一习惯衍生出了布道的整个过程，并在那些行业人士中一直延续至今，其风格可以用短语头头是道来形容。

这就是圣徒们用以增大那部位的整个过程，并认为它在任何情况下都灵验。但前提是，在时间的长河中不要出现一位残酷的国王【260】。他曾提出一套血腥的迫害计划，直指一切超过一定指标的耳朵，因此有些人喜欢用黑布或帽子把他们的突出物包起来，有人干脆用假发遮盖。这些耳朵有的被割掉，有的被斜着剪去，而大多数被连根切除。但是在我的有关耳朵历史的简单回顾中，我临时决定把后话交由公众去接续。

从以上简短的有关耳朵早先的受难史，以及将它们过去生长的情况搬到现实中的小小努力中显然可以看出，我们能够依赖一个如此短小、如此脆弱、如此光滑之物的理由，实在微乎其微，任何人要想紧紧抓住别人，都必须借助其他方法。其实，一个观察人性足够细心的人会发现很多抓手，其中人的六种感官的每一种都是一个，此外还有连接激情的许多抓手，以及连接智慧的若干抓手。说到最后这些抓手，好奇心是其中之一，并且，与所有其他的相比，它抓得最牢靠。对于一个生性懒惰、缺乏耐心、呼噜连天的读者来说，好奇心是策马的马刺，是嚼口的辔头，是穿鼻的铜环。一位作家有了这样的抓手就肯定能够抓住读者，在这点上一旦找对了路，那么对方的所有反抗和挣扎都无济于事，只能成为任他摆布的阶下囚，直到他因为累了或厌烦而放手的时候。

因此，作为这篇无比玄妙文章作者的我，就是因为在这里采用了上述抓手，这才超乎想象地牢牢抓住了我可爱的读者。其实我早就该放手了，但我一直都不十分情愿，让他们在追随本书仅剩的部分的时候被带入我们与生俱来的冷漠中。我只能说，尊敬的读者，为了你我的安宁，我的心病与你完全一样，害怕失去或弄乱我的稿纸，也就是我这些故事的剩余部分。这些故事充满了意外事件、转折和冒险，它们既新奇、出乎意料之外，其所有关键点又都在情理之中，符合我们这个高尚时代的精致口味。但是很可惜，现在我只能尽我最大努力归结众多头绪中的几个了。其中包括有关彼得是如何得到国王的木凳的保护的完整描述【261】，以及他与杰克在他们共同的一项计划上取得的一致，那就是，在某个风雨交加的夜晚，将兄弟马丁引诱到负债人拘留所，扒光他身上的所有衣服；马丁如何全力以赴向他们展示他的一双美妙的鞋跟【262】；一项新的反对彼得的授权如何出台，如何使杰克一瘸一拐地离开彼得，并偷走了他的保护符据为己用；杰克服饰的碎布条如何在宫廷和城市成为时尚，他如何骑上一匹高头大马【263】并吃上奶油蛋羹【264】等等。关于所有这一切（以及其他一些我一时想不起来的故事）的细节，全部都无可挽回地被遗忘了。这一莫大的遗憾定将让我的读者们相互扼腕叹息。但是如果他们认同以下忠告符合他们的若干基本准则，并看在这本书从开篇到此处在我们之间业已建立的友谊的魔力的份上，请不要对意外事件反应过度以致对健康产生不可逆的损害——现在我要尽一位成名作家的在程序上的义务，完成此书的最后部分了，这是一位有尊严的现代人一定不能忽略的。

结　语

不论做任何事情，如果拖的时间太长，都会很容易，但不一定经常，和做的时间太短一样，半途而废。对于脑力劳动，尤其如此。那位高尚的耶稣会士【265】（但愿他的心灵得到安息）率先大胆以书面形式承认，图书必须和服饰、饮食以及娱乐一样符合季节性的要求，并让其形式和法国其他事物相比得到更大的改善，更好服务于我们高尚的民族。而我要斋戒到一本错过潮流的书被人遗忘的时候，就像白天的月亮，过汛期一周的鲭鱼。没有人会像购进这本书的书商一样在乎我们的天气，他略微懂得在一个干旱的时节应该推出什么样的图书，并在晴雨表预示大雨将至之前摆在最显眼的位置。【266】当他看到这部作品，并将它与他的历书核对之后，他明白告诉我说，他已经明确考虑过篇幅和主题这两件最为重要的事情，并认为除非再等很长一段时间，且必须等到出现一个对于芜菁甘蓝【267】来说是非常艰难的一年，它才会有销路。对此，由于我的希求十分迫切，我想知道，如果在这个月出版，他认为还要什么条件。他往西面看了看回答我说：“我估计不会出现坏天气。但是如果你能找到一个引人入胜的名目（但不是诗），或在……上的简短的叙述，那它八成会形成燎原之势。但是如果它销售不畅，其实我已经雇了一位作家在写一篇反驳本特利博士的文章，我相信它一定有利可图。”

我们商议了很久才达成一项权宜之计，就是如果来了这样一位顾客，充满信心地希望了解作者，他就随便挑选一个当周时尚排行榜上的智者名字，并像私密好友般地说给他。而如果德弗【268】的最新剧目正好在榜上，那我倒更乐意他是康格里夫【269】。这，我要说，是因为我对我可敬的读者的口味有透彻的了解，并且通常都带着极大的兴趣观看一只被从蜂蜜罐上赶走的胃口极佳的苍蝇，直接落在大便上享用美餐。【270】

我要对所谓深奥作家这一话题说几句话，这样的作家最近数量骤增，而且我非常清楚，明智的世人都决定将我也归于这一类。因此我认为，说到深奥，它和作家的关系就如同它和井的关系。一个眼力很好的人能看到最深的井底，除非井里有水。而常见的情况是，当井底干燥得除了泥土一无所有的时候，哪怕它距离地面只有一码半的深度，也会有人认为它深不可测，其原因再简单不过，因为那里漆黑一团。

下面我想尝试分析一个在现代作家中十分常见的现象，就是不知所云：在已经把某个话题说透了以后，仍然不肯停笔。有人称之为智慧心魔，在身体死去之后它仍旧继续前行。说真的，在需要的时候，似乎没有什么知识比辨识能力掌握在更少人的手里。一个作家在写完一本书的时候，他和他的读者就已经成为相识已久、不忍分别的老朋友了。因此我时常把写作想象成参观，告别时的繁文缛节或许比先前的所有谈话更冗长。一篇文章的结尾类似一个人生命的尽头，也有人将它比作宴会的结束，其中的大多数人都对分手心有不甘，ut plenus vitae conviva【271】。因为人们在酒足饭饱以后往往喜欢坐下来，哪怕只是打盹或小睡，以打发当天剩余的时光。但是，在最后这点上我和其他作家截然不同。如果，通过我所有的努力，我能对人类如此躁动不安的休息有所贡献的话，那就太让我喜出望外了。我认为这对于一个人们想象中的智者的作为来说并非离经叛道。因为在希腊有一个十分懂礼貌的民族，曾为睡眠【272】和缪斯女神【273】建立起同样神圣的殿堂，并相信这两个神之间业已建立起最牢固的友谊。

对我的读者我还有最后一个请求，希望你不要指望从这本书的每一行或每一页都得到同样多的乐趣和教益，请给作者留一些使小性或偶尔不着调的空间，同时也给自己留一些同样的空间。用这样的心态认真思考一下：你在不论恶劣的天气里还是阴雨天走在一条街道上，对那些闲居之人从窗口发出的对你在此种状况下的步态或衣着的指指点点，要能够坦然面对。

在运用头脑的策略上，我的观点是，标新立异的才是主人，至于寻找适当的方法和理由，那是仆人的事情。我之所以这样分类的原因，从我时常想要卖弄智慧的特定事实上看，是因为我在很多情况下既不聪明，也不完美，更词不达意。【274】而对于现代人无视任何这种几率的做法，我是绝对忠实的执行者，不论执行它们的痛苦有多大，或有多么不合时宜。因为从我努力搜集的七百三十八条杰出现代作家的至理名言中，包括通过细细的研读消化而形成的我这本平常的小书，我发现，我经过五年努力所找到的能够塞进日常谈话中的书，不超过一打。而在这一打中又有半数因对象不合适而失败，剩余的一半我费尽心机，采用各种手段予以推荐，可最后我还是决定放弃了。正是这种必然由我承担的失望（恕我直言），给我带来了最初的修成作家的启示。从那时起，在我的一些特定朋友中，我发现这成为他们普遍的抱怨，而在我其他的朋友中，情况也变得基本类似。因为我提到很多有价值的、却在推理中被遗忘或摒弃的词语，在印刷品中获准同意或优先采用后，都顺利通过并得到认可和尊重。而由于得到出版商的特许和鼓励，我已成为用它们渲染各色事件和情节的绝对的主人，以展示我获得的所有才华。我早已发现我所作observanda【275】的出版对于收获来说已太过冗长。因此我需要暂停一下，直到通过触摸世界和我自己的脉搏，我发现新的必须动笔的机会。

注释

【1】　拉丁文，意为：

逃到上层空间去，

这就是任务，这就是工作。

出自维吉尔（Virgil）的叙事诗《埃涅伊德》（Aeneid）6,128-9。

【2】　苏格拉底（Socrates，公元前469—前399），古希腊哲学家。阿里斯托芬曾在剧作《云》中揶揄他的“新式教育法”。——译者注

【3】　讲道坛指的是教堂里供讲道教士站立的高于听众的小台子（暗指教士）；作者下文还提到，讲道坛很像用于示众的颈手枷。梯子是用来爬上高台的（暗指死刑罪犯）。十八世纪英国常见的绞架和强迫死刑犯爬上绞架的梯子与此相似。巡回台指的舞台上的演员。作者自己曾解释说，它指的是“江湖骗子”。因为它也有“舞台”的意思，因此在下文作者才会联想到剧场的舞台。——译者注

【4】　此处原文为bar，围栏，指法庭上围住法官和律师所坐位置的区域。这个词还指法律工作或职业。——译者注

【5】　这里指在法庭辩论中律师经常相互打断对方的话。——译者注

【6】　这里指法官。他们在庭审过程中坐在木凳（bench）上。——译者注

【7】　腓尼基是古代犹太民族文明的发祥地，腓尼基语属于闪语族。——译者注

【8】　拉丁文，意为“可以让老年人悠闲安逸地休息”。出自贺拉斯（Horace）的《讽刺诗集》（Satires）1.1.31.

【9】　此处暗指的是当时的主要教派热衷的与“三”有关的争论，如“三位一体”、“三神论”等。——译者注

【10】　此处指梯子旁侧张贴的海报，上面写有将被绞死的罪犯的最后陈词。这种海报在当时定期出版。斯威夫特本人曾于1722年写过一篇假想的“最后陈词”。另见有关“梯子”的前注。——译者注

【11】　拉丁文，意为“阴雨天空下，交叉路口旁”。

【12】　伊壁鸠鲁（Epicurus，约公元前342—前270），古希腊杰出唯物主义和无神论者。——译者注

【13】　拉丁文，意为：

我们必须承认声音也是物质的，

因为它能刺激感官。

出自卢克莱修（Lucretius）的《物性论》（De Rerum Natura）4.526-7。

【14】　英国伊丽莎白时期剧场的观众席通常有若干层，这里指的是其中最高、票价低廉的一层。——译者注

【15】　朽木能发出磷光。此处暗指教士（教会）所声称的“指引人走向光明”一类的说法。——译者注

【16】　此处暗示教会的腐朽。——译者注

【17】　作者此处暗讽狂热的教士虽然心中有一团火，头脑却空洞无物，因而其作品有两种命运：要么被烧掉，要么被虫蛀。——译者注

【18】　意为“此处原稿有脱漏”。在手稿中有意留下缺陷是斯威夫特喜用的伎俩。

【19】　拉丁文，意为“祈求”。这里指陈词结束时的狂热呼号。——译者注

【20】　指刽子手行刑。——译者注

【21】　拉丁文，意思分别为“你的”和“我的”。整句大意为，由于绞刑犯的抢劫罪行，因而混淆了所有权的归属。——译者注

【22】　伦敦市的一个行政区，英国议会所在地。——译者注

【23】　Grub-street原为伦敦一条街的名字，因这里的住户大多因写野史和小品而得名。此后任何无价值的作品都被称为文丐作品。——译者注

【24】　此处原文为scythe，指死神所用的把人钩下地狱的类似镰刀的工具。它如果钝了就不容易钩到人了。——译者注

【25】　在格雷沙姆学院（Gresham Collage）聚会的英国皇家学会。——译者注

【26】　威尔（Will）在女修道院花园所开的咖啡屋。此处作者借它和格雷沙姆学院暗讽当时所有的文艺界和科学界名流，称他们都师承“文丐”。——译者注

【27】　此处指的是阿基米德所说的“给我一个支点，我将撬动地球”。——译者注

【28】　此处原文为sack-posset，其中sack为产自西班牙Madeira岛的一种白葡萄酒，posset为一种传统的乳制饮料。——译者注

【29】　毕达哥拉斯（Pythagoras，约公元前580—约前500），古希腊哲学家、数学家。——译者注

【30】　伊索（Aesop，约6世纪），古希腊寓言作家，相传原为奴隶，善讲故事，讽刺权贵。有《伊索寓言》传世。——译者注

【31】　列那狐（Reynard the Fox）的故事源于希腊罗马的口头传说，讽刺中世纪动物故事组诗中的主角。——译者注

【32】　Tom Thumb，瓦格斯塔夫（Wagstaffe）所作的寓言故事，完成于1711年，内容是讥讽严肃古板。——译者注

【33】　故事中的拇指先生因只有拇指大小，经常被人吞掉，但是又总能活着回来参与另一个故事。——译者注

【34】　阿提庇乌斯（Artephius，生卒年月不详），一位生活于12世纪前后的炼金术士，他在一篇文章中自称活了1025岁。其作品的法文版曾一度较为流行。——译者注

【35】　在马洛（Marlowe）所著的《浮士德》中，浮士德盼望得到世界上最美的女子。于是特洛伊的海伦（传说中世上最美的女子）就出现在了他的面前。——译者注

【36】　Whittington and His Cat，见于公元14世纪的一本民间故事，讲述伦敦早期的市长。——译者注

【37】　The Hind and Panther，约翰·德莱顿于1687年所作的著名诗篇。参见下文有关其人的注释。——译者注

【38】　斯科图斯（Dun Scotus，生卒年月不详），著名神学家。——译者注

【39】　贝拉明（Robert Bellarmin, 1542—1621），意大利枢机主教、神学家，在欧洲宗教运动改革时期为天主教辩护。——译者注

【40】　Tommy Pots，当时流行的一首抒情诗歌。——译者注

【41】　此处原文为meal-tubs，应指Meal-tub Plot，系1678年查理二世执政时期揭露出的一个假想的谋杀他的“天主教阴谋”。——译者注

【42】　德莱顿（John Dryden, 1631—1700），英国17世纪后期最伟大的诗人，写过三十多部悲、喜剧和大量诗歌。——译者注

【43】　暗指德莱顿为得到赞助曾将自己翻译的维吉尔的作品献给多位伯爵、侯爵等要人。下文提到的把文章分成四十份等语也与此有关。——译者注

【44】　本书下文提到了他们的名字。其中彼得暗指罗马天主教会，马丁（路德）暗指英国国教教会，杰克（凯尔文）暗指新教后裔。

【45】　这三个名字原文为法文，意思分别为贪婪、野心和狂妄。

【46】　此处原文为chocolate-house，是当时对“咖啡屋”的雅称，社会精英聚会的地方。——译者注

【47】　拉丁文，意为“在露天”。通常的皇室接见活动都在室内进行，不可能在露天。——译者注

【48】　此处作者有意把鹰说成鹅。——译者注

【49】　拉丁文，意为“稍逊一等的神”。——译者注

【50】　此处作者意在讥讽古代的神可由于任何奇怪的原因而被人崇拜。——译者注

【51】　拉丁文，意为“首动”，指地球最外面的可动层。此说源自古希腊天文学家托勒密的宇宙理论，认为地球是宇宙的中心。——译者注

【52】　拉丁文，意为“条件”或“基本原理”。——译者注

【53】　拉丁文，意为“来自父母的灵魂”。——译者注

【54】　以上几段作者有意模仿教义争论的语气，将争论的主要焦点——灵魂和道德比作时尚和服饰，并为下文做铺垫。——译者注

【55】　法文，指时尚妇女早晨在卧室进行的社交聚会。——译者注

【56】　通常船夫应坐在客人后面。——译者注

【57】　拉丁文，意为“在这些文字中”。——译者注

【58】　拉丁文，意为“在这些音节中”。——译者注

【59】　拉丁文，意为“第三种方法”。——译者注

【60】　拉丁文，意为“在这些字母中。”——译者注

【61】　这几个英文字母拼起来意为“肩”（shoulder）。——译者注

【62】　“肩章”一词的英语为shoulder-knot，后半部分开头的字母为k。——译者注

【63】　拉丁文，亦作Kalendae，意为“每月的第一天”。——译者注

【64】　拉丁文，意为“在一些古老典籍中”。——译者注

【65】　拉丁文，意为“父亲授予的权利”。——译者注

【66】　拉丁文，意为“毫无声息”。——译者注

【67】　拉丁文，意为“在一定程度上影响主旨”。

【68】　拉丁文，意为“亚里士多德的逻辑学”。——译者注

【69】　拉丁文，意为“解释”。——译者注

【70】　拉丁文，意为“可分为两类”。——译者注

【71】　拉丁文，意为“如果在口头遗嘱里曾提到同样的内容，那就可以拒绝”。

【72】　此处暗示对地狱心存敬畏，抑制肉欲。——译者注

【73】　拉丁文，意为“有所保留”。——译者注

【74】　拉丁文，意为“来自要职”。——译者注

【75】　拉丁文，意为“父亲赋予的权利”。——译者注

【76】　拉丁文，意为“在这些文字中”。——译者注

【77】　拉丁文，意为“将造成混乱”。——译者注

【78】　暗指在罗马帝国率先确立基督教合法地位的君士坦丁大帝。——译者注

【79】　莫摩斯（Momus），希腊神话中的非难、指责与嘲弄之神。——译者注

【80】　从这些名字的拼音上看，它们从古希腊人名逐渐越来越像现代普通英国人名。——译者注

【81】　赫克勒斯（Hercules），希腊和罗马神话中力大无比的英雄，宙斯与阿尔克墨涅之子。——译者注

【82】　特修斯（Theseus），希腊神话中雅典的英雄和国王，他杀了米诺陶并统一阿提卡。——译者注

【83】　珀尔修斯（Perseus），希腊神话中宙斯之子，杀死女怪美杜莎的英雄。——译者注

【84】　希腊神话中赫克勒斯因爱上伊俄勒而遭到妻子得伊阿尼拉的嫉恨，她给他送去一件沾有剧毒血的长袍，赫克勒斯一触到它即死去。——译者注

【85】　卡科斯（Cacus），古罗马宗教所信奉的神，根据罗马诗人维吉尔的描写，他是火神伏尔甘的儿子，生性邪恶，偷走巨人的牛群藏于山洞，后因一母牛嗥叫而被赫丘利发现，将其杀死。——译者注

【86】　海德拉（Hydra），希腊神话中的九头怪蛇。——译者注

【87】　奥吉亚斯（Augeas），希腊神话中的厄利斯王，拥有大群牲畜，曾命令赫克勒斯在一日之内把他全部肮脏无比的厩房打扫干净。——译者注

【88】　斯廷法罗斯鸟（Stymphalian bird），希腊神话中破坏庄稼和果实的凶悍的大鸟，翅膀、爪子和喙都是金属的。厄利斯王要求赫克勒斯完成的12项任务之一就是射杀此鸟。——译者注

【89】　针对17世纪作家多有动辄征引古人的习惯，作者在这里有意反说是现代人教育了古人。——译者注

【90】　此处原文为Hieroglyph，指古埃及象形文字，亦指任何意义不明确的符号。——译者注

【91】　作者在这里讽刺的是，古代作家虽然谈论批评，却不敢超出古代神话和埃及象形文字的范畴。——译者注

【92】　保萨尼阿斯（Pausanias,？—约公元前470），古埃及旅行家和地质学家。——译者注

【93】　阿戈斯（Argos），古希腊的一个城邦，位于伯罗奔尼撒半岛东北部，靠近阿尔戈利斯湾。青铜器时代早期开始有人居住，在斯巴达兴盛前是古希腊最强盛的城邦之一。——译者注

【94】　纳夫普里亚人（Nauplians），希腊重镇纳夫普里亚（位于伯罗奔尼撒半岛，曾归属阿戈斯）城中的居民。——译者注

【95】　“驴”的英文是ass。而原文在这里（包括下面几次提到的“驴”）用了大写的ASS，似与作者所说的“象形文字”（以驴暗指批评家）有关。——译者注

【96】　希罗多德（Herodotus，约公元前485—约前425），希腊历史学家。——译者注

【97】　拉丁文，意为“创新”。——译者注

【98】　莱比亚（Lybia），似为虚构的地名。——译者注

【99】　克特西亚斯（Ctesias，公元前416—？），古希腊医生和研究埃及与印度的历史学家。——译者注

【100】　犄角和胆汁等语暗合前面讲的“多余的枝桠”。——译者注

【101】　锡西厄人（Scythians），古代居住在西徐亚的游牧民族中的一员。——译者注

【102】　狄奥多罗斯（Diodorus，约公元前4世纪），古希腊历史学家，美加拉学派哲学家。——译者注

【103】　埃利孔（Helicon），希腊的山名，两股神圣泉水的发源地。——译者注

【104】　卢克莱修（Lucretius，约公元前93—约前50），古希腊哲学家、历史学家、诗人。——译者注

【105】　拉丁文，意为：

在埃利孔的高山上竟有一种树，

其花朵的气味可以杀死一个人。

出自卢克莱修的《物性论》6.774-5.

【106】　泰伦提乌斯（Terence，公元前186—前161），罗马共和国时期著名的剧作家。——译者注

【107】　拉丁文，意为“恶毒的”。——译者注

【108】　地米斯托克利（Themistocles，约公元前524—约前460），希腊政治家，将军，据说他受到底层民众的拥戴，却经常和贵族产生摩擦。——译者注

【109】　拉丁文，意为“没有水银”。——译者注

【110】　作者的语言总是充满揶揄的口气和反语。上段末句系有意反说，实指批评家的第一个目标也可能找错，此段末句意为国王在批评家眼里总是最肮脏的。——译者注

【111】　拉丁文，意为天主教认为的在天堂和地狱之间的“炼狱”。

【112】　这里指忏悔和赎罪。

【113】　即忏悔室。

【114】　即放任它们。

【115】　即圣水。

【116】　“金羊毛”的故事来自古希腊神话和传说。佛里克索斯被一只神赐的金毛羊所救。后他将羊献祭给宙斯，金羊毛则给了埃厄特斯国王，后者又将金羊毛转献给战神阿瑞斯。阿瑞斯把它钉在阿瑞斯圣林中一棵橡树上，让火龙看守。全世界都相信这金羊毛是无价之宝，许多英雄和王子都梦寐以求。忒萨利亚王子伊阿宋曾带着希腊众英雄坐着大船阿耳戈斯号前往科尔喀斯去取金羊毛，并与火龙搏斗。此处作者将公牛说成源自火龙系有意调侃。——译者注

【117】　古代地理学中黑海东端高加索南部的三角地带，在希腊神话中它是美狄亚的故乡，阿耳戈斯英雄们的目的地，一块非常富饶和巫术盛行的地方。——译者注

【118】　贺拉斯（Horace，公元前65—前8），古罗马杰出诗人、讽刺作家。——译者注

【119】　拉丁文，意为“身披五色翎毛”。

【120】　拉丁文，意为“下肢的形状像一条黑鱼。”以上两句出自贺拉斯（Horace）的《歌集》（Ars Poetica）第三卷，2-4.

【121】　此处原文为bull-beggar，英语俚语，指可怕的妖怪或智力低下的人。——译者注

【122】　此处原文为bull-dog，为一种头大、嘴扁、腿短的强壮、凶猛的狗。——译者注

【123】　英国伦敦西面的著名监狱。——译者注

【124】　拉丁文，意为“彻底说服”。——译者注

【125】　拉丁文，意为“秘密”。——译者注

【126】　拉丁文，意为“影射”。——译者注

【127】　暗指罗马教皇象征无上权力的三重冕。——译者注

【128】　拉丁文，意为“动作”。——译者注

【129】　此处原文如此，似与前文有矛盾。因前文曾说这三兄弟分不清长幼。——译者注

【130】　拉丁文，意为“权威版本”。——译者注

【131】　拉丁文，意为：

这使我勇于承担任何使命，

指引我在宁静的夜中搜寻。

自卢克莱修的《物性论》1.141-2.

【132】　拉丁文，意为“甜蜜的”。——译者注

【133】　本特利（Richard Bentley, 1662—1742），英国古典学研究史上的一位重要人物，英国剑桥大学三一学院的创始人，学识渊博，长于典籍校勘，著有《致约翰·穆勒书》《图斯库路姆论辩集》等书。——译者注

【134】　拉丁文，意为“放进注满热水的浴缸”。——译者注

【135】　拉丁文，意为“足量的”。——译者注

【136】　此处原文为Lathe，忘川，忘却之河，是希腊神话中冥府的五条河流之一。——译者注

【137】　拉丁文，意为“糟粕”。——译者注

【138】　拉丁文，意为“残渣”，亦指炼金术过程中产生的废料。——译者注

【139】　古希腊的重量单位。——译者注

【140】　拉丁文，意为“杰出的专家”。——译者注

【141】　拉丁文，意为“其他方面专家一览”。——译者注

【142】　拉丁文，意为“怪异”。——译者注

【143】　荷马（Homer，约前9世纪—前8世纪），古希腊游吟诗人，创作了西方文学最伟大的两部作品《伊利亚特》和《奥德赛》。——译者注

【144】　拉丁文，意为“巨著”。——译者注

【145】　森迪沃格斯（Sendivogus，生卒年月不详），著名的波兰炼金术士和化学家。——译者注

【146】　贝曼（Behmen，生卒年月不详），德国基督教神学家。——译者注

【147】　《灵智魔学》（Anthroposophia Theomagica），威尔士哲学家、诗人托马斯·沃恩（Thomas Vaughan）所著，主要内容为研究自然魔幻以及精神与自然一体化。——译者注

【148】　拉丁文，意思不详，似指“圆形物体”。——译者注

【149】　拉丁文，意为“那么我几乎不相信这位作者曾片刻感受到激情的力量”。

【150】　应为威廉·沃顿（William Wotton，生卒年月不详），与作者同时代的一位神学家。——译者注

【151】　这里作者将沃顿说成“学士”系有意打趣。——译者注

【152】　汞中毒可引起大量唾液分泌。——译者注

【153】　此处作者意在调侃那些喜欢（在前言中）对自己作品自吹自擂的作家。——译者注

【154】　伊奥利亚（Aeolists）是古希腊在小亚细亚的西北部沿海地区的一个殖民地，荷马在作品中也曾提到此地。——译者注

【155】　拉丁文，意为“按缪斯女神的引诱触摸一切”。出自卢克莱修的《物性论》4.9。

【156】　荷马史诗《伊利亚特》的篇幅很长。——译者注

【157】　希腊神话中，赫克勒斯的第十个任务是到世界的尽头抓捕吉里昂的公牛，一种有三个身体的怪兽。——译者注

【158】　拉丁语，意为“生殖器”。——译者注

【159】　拉丁语，意为“但他们的生殖器却非常巨大，直达脚踝”。——译者注

【160】　西徐亚人（Scythians）是公元前9世纪以前生活在阿尔泰山以东地区的游牧民族。——译者注

【161】　拉丁文，意为“基础”。——译者注

【162】　此处指接受知识的不同方法。——译者注

【163】　西徐亚在希腊北面。在作者所处的时代写作还用鹅毛笔。——译者注

【164】　拉丁文，意为“但愿指引我们的命运不要让这样的命运靠近我们”。出自卢克莱修《物性论》5.108。

【165】　拉丁文，意为“追随者”。——译者注

【166】　拉丁文，意为“世界之灵”。——译者注

【167】　拉丁文，意为“获悉的形态”。——译者注

【168】　拉丁文，分别为“精神”、“意识”、“灵感”和“灵魂”。——译者注

【169】　拉丁文，意为“肿胀”。——译者注

【170】　拉丁文，意为“膨胀”。——译者注

【171】　拉丁文，意为“生殖或喷射器官”。——译者注

【172】　拉丁文，意为“最初成分”。——译者注

【173】　拉丁文，意为“意识”。——译者注

【174】　拉丁文，意为“四大原则”。——译者注

【175】　帕拉切尔苏斯（Bumbastus Palacelsus, 1493—1541），出生于艾恩西德伦（今瑞士）的医师，炼金家，曾发明多种新药。——译者注

【176】　拉丁文，意为“基本成分”。——译者注

【177】　此处原文为belching。作者自己曾解释说，它指的是“牧师在古希腊圣贤殿堂向古人发出预言时的动作”。——译者注

【178】　拉丁文，意为“对全能的天主顶礼膜拜”。——译者注

【179】　拉丁文，意为“北，诸神中最杰出的一位”。——译者注

【180】　拉丁文，意为“至高的天”。古人认为天共有11重，而上帝和天使处在这至高的一重。——译者注

【181】　希腊文，意为“黑暗、阴暗、夜晚”。——译者注

【182】　潘西罗鲁斯（Pancirolus，生卒年月不详），希腊哲学家，《失传与新发明的艺术》（DeArtibusperditis, &c.）一书的作者。——译者注

【183】　埃俄罗斯（Aeolus），希腊神话中的风神。——译者注

【184】　拉丁文，意为“从内部凹处”。——译者注

【185】　此处的两个长句十分晦涩，前句大意是说，人的头脑总倾向于走两个极端，因此作者用了一些高低、黑白的比喻；后句大意是说最不文明的人也可能相信上帝，而一旦有了上天和上帝，就会有地狱和魔鬼。——译者注

【186】　法文，为一种带有四个分支的磨坊。——译者注

【187】　指挪威北部以及瑞典、芬兰的土著人。——译者注

【188】　德尔菲（Delphos），最重要的古希腊阿波罗神殿所在地，古希腊人认为这里是世界的中心。——译者注

【189】　指法国亨利四世（Henry IV, 1553—1610），法国波旁王朝的第一代国王。

【190】　拉丁文，意为“若干人体”。——译者注

【191】　拉丁文，意为：

身体的活力产生于被爱欲折磨之后：

它为了爱奋力拼搏，充满渴望。

出自卢克莱修的《物性论》4.1047和1054。

【192】　拉丁文，意为“发动战争的最可怕的原因”。

【193】　指法国路易十四（Louis XIV, 1638—1715），他在位时兴建凡尔赛宫。

【194】　拉丁文，意为“麝香”。——译者注

【195】　第欧根尼（Diogenes，约公元前5世纪），希腊哲学家，《论自然》是其重要著作。——译者注

【196】　阿波罗尼奥斯（Apollonius，约公元前262—前190），古希腊数学家，其专著《圆锥曲线》为古代科学巨著之一。——译者注

【197】　帕拉切尔苏斯（Palacelsus, 1493—1541），出生于艾恩西德伦（今瑞士）的医师，炼金家，曾发明多种新药。——译者注

【198】　笛卡尔（Des Cartes, 1596—1650），法国数学家、哲学家，将哲学从传统的经院哲学解放出来的第一人。——译者注

【199】　拉丁文，意为“弯曲”或“扭曲”。——译者注

【200】　西塞罗（Cicero，公元前106—前43），罗马杰出的政治家、律师、古典学家、作家。——译者注

【201】　拉丁文，意为“你应该庆幸自己来到了一个使你自己看上去有些智慧的地方”。出自西塞罗的《论演说》（Epistulae ad Familiares）7.10。

【202】　作者这里的意思是，人如果不疯狂就不会有精神或宗教方面的信仰，不会相信看不见的东西。——译者注

【203】　拉丁文，意为“理论”。——译者注

【204】　此处指三兄弟中的杰克（凯尔文）。——译者注

【205】　拉丁文，意为“此处缺失很多字”。系作者有意为之的打趣之笔。——译者注

【206】　这里是说如果人们彻底幸福了，只会想象，那他们就不会揭露谬误或指摘他人缺点了。——译者注

【207】　指上文提到的焊接或修补自然缺陷的艺术。——译者注

【208】　指通过感官（感知）产生想象的人。——译者注

【209】　此处还是有意反说，作者所谓的傻瓜，实则聪明，以聪明而积极的态度生活。——译者注

【210】　作者此时的语无伦次是在模仿疯子的思维。——译者注

【211】　库尔提斯（Curtius）是神话中的古罗马英雄，据传在公元前362年罗马广场出现一道深沟，预言师说，要把罗马最宝贵的东西扔下去深沟才会合拢，于是他只身纵马跃入深沟。——译者注

【212】　恩培多克勒（Empedocles，约公元前490—约前430），古希腊哲学家，据说他自封为神，跃入埃特那山火山口自杀，以让他的信徒们相信他是神。——译者注

【213】　老布鲁斯特（elder Brutus，约公元前6世纪末），古代历史中的传说人物，布鲁斯特的父亲，凯撒的朋友，一说后来谋杀了凯撒。——译者注

【214】　拉丁文，意为“平息事端的能力”。——译者注

【215】　暗指政治家都是疯子。——译者注

【216】　爱德华·西摩（Edward Seymour，生卒年月不详），英国贵族政治家。——译者注

【217】　克里斯托弗·马斯格雷夫（Christopher Musgrave，生卒年月不详），英国贵族政治家。——译者注

【218】　约翰·鲍尔斯（John Bowles，生卒年月不详），英国贵族政治家。——译者注

【219】　不详，可能是与作者同时代的一位清教徒。——译者注

【220】　中世纪欧洲的一处伯爵领地，包括现比利时的东佛兰德省和西佛兰德省以及法国北部部分地区。——译者注

【221】　英国议会在威斯敏斯特会堂召开。其间有意提出议案的议员要将书面议案放在主持人座椅背后的绿袋子里。这里所说的纸应为写议案用的。——译者注

【222】　当时法官乘坐出租马车的费用。——译者注

【223】　拉丁文，意为“他的脸上闪烁着光芒”。——译者注

【224】　此处原文为the whore of Babylon，为基督教中一个邪恶之地。——译者注

【225】　通常指yes和no。——译者注

【226】　此处似指这样的人经常闲坐在壁炉旁。——译者注

【227】　英国皇家医学会所在地。——译者注

【228】　穆尔菲尔德（Moorfields）是伦敦的一个区，著名的穆尔门（moorgate，伦敦城的一处大门）所在地。——译者注

【229】　苏格兰院（Scotland Yard）是一个警察局的名字。——译者注

【230】　Troglodyte，指的是许多古希腊哲学家经常谈到的一种穴居人。——译者注

【231】　布莱克摩尔（Blackmore, 1654—1729），英国医生、诗人，曾为英王威廉三世和女王安妮的御医。——译者注

【232】　莱斯特兰奇（Lestrange），可能指英国作家罗杰·莱斯特兰奇（Roger L'Estrange, 1616—1704），最早期的英国记者和小册子作者。——译者注

【233】　此处戏讽本特利喜欢显摆。另见有关本特利的前注。——译者注

【234】　这里指“名声”。——译者注

【235】　因为这是神秘的谜，所以没有意义。——译者注

【236】　蔷薇十字会是基督教中的一个由玄学者组成的半神秘组织。——译者注

【237】　Bythus，在相信直觉说的早期基督教诺斯替（Gnostic）教派的教义中，它是至高的神，此词亦含有“深奥”的意思。——译者注

【238】　Sigé，意为诺斯替教义中的与神相通，此词亦含有“安静”的意思。——译者注

【239】　Achamoth，不详。可能是诺斯替教义中的另一个神。此词亦含有“智慧”的意思。一说以上三词都属于诺斯替教派使用的隐语。——译者注

【240】　拉丁文，意为“巨大的财富来自他的眼泪，光彩的财富来自他的笑声，不可预知的财富来自他的忧伤和恐惧”。

【241】　英国诗人、哲学家沃恩（Vaughan）写《灵智魔学》所用的笔名，另见有关《灵智魔学》的前注。作者此处说他犯了不可原谅的错误似为揶揄之笔，意在激励读者去看他的书。——译者注

【242】　此处原文为snap-dragon，指当时流行的一种游戏，即将白兰地倒入碗中点燃，再放入一些葡萄干之类的小果料，游戏者徒手快速从火中取出果料并吃掉。——译者注

【243】　劳尔卡库（Laurcalco），塞万提斯的小说《唐吉诃德》中的一个人物。——译者注

【244】　巴别塔（Babel），《圣经》中记载大洪水后人们在巴比伦所建造的塔，见《创世记》11: 1—9。——译者注

【245】　索尔兹伯里（Salisbury）平原，在英国中部，以其史前石柱遗址闻名。——译者注

【246】　指克伦威尔和他的同盟者在决定处死查理一世时向上帝求援。——译者注

【247】　指英国非国教派人士对教堂音乐的反感。——译者注

【248】　比林斯格特（Billingsgate），位于英国伦敦东南的一个市场。——译者注

【249】　暗指非国教派人士对英国所有教堂的装饰、雕像以及图画颜色的指责和非难。——译者注

【250】　指浸礼。——译者注

【251】　巴勒斯坦古地名，以盛产乳香闻名。——译者注

【252】　此段意在暗讽狂热的布道令人难堪。狂热者总是乐于接受虐待，认为与其巨大的德行价值比起来，痛苦微不足道。——译者注

【253】　此句的大意是，如果杰克（即他自己）不替他们挨打，那意大利教皇和法国国王的军队早就来霸占他们的妻子和财产（仓库）了。——译者注

【254】　莫卧儿（Mogul），指历史上征战四方的蒙古人。——译者注

【255】　以上几段（及下文）意在戏讽新教后裔（非英国国教者）与罗马教廷的狂热教徒虽表面上冲突很大，但因多有相似之处而经常被混淆，并且他们还经常不期而遇。——译者注

【256】　拉丁文，意为“缺少一些字”。

【257】　拉丁文，意为“桀骜不驯的海神普罗特斯仍能挣脱锁链”。出自贺拉斯的《讽刺诗集》（Satires）2.3.71。古希腊神话中的海神普罗特斯（Proteus）具有变换身形的本领。

【258】　拉丁文，意为“失传的艺术”。——译者注

【259】　希波克拉底（Hippocrates，约公元前460—约前377），古希腊著名医学家，他所创立的医学道德规范至今仍应用于医疗行业。——译者注

【260】　指查理二世（Charles II, 1630—1685），他于1670年复辟后曾提出改宗天主教，并迫害不肯顺从的教士，在朝野引起很大不满。——译者注

【261】　指詹姆斯二世（James II, 1633—1701），他在位期间从1687年开始强化天主教的政策，允许天主教徒进入长老会，并颁布“信教自由令”，天主教徒因而得到保护和纵容。下文提到的杰克离开彼得，并偷走了他的保护符等语亦应与此有关。——译者注

【262】　只有跑在别人前面才能让别人看到自己的鞋跟。——译者注

【263】　似指当时的长老会员埃德温（Humphry Edwyn），他为人傲慢拘礼，曾当选伦敦市长。——译者注

【264】　奶油蛋羹是当时市长餐桌上的常见食品。——译者注

【265】　指奥尔良的佩里（Père d'Orleans），法国教士。耶稣会是天主教的一支，由罗耀拉（Ignatius of Loyola）于1534年创立。——译者注

【266】　在英国，如果气候干燥少雨，人们会倾向于室外活动，看书的人就会减少。——译者注

【267】　turnip，一种广泛种植的产于欧亚大陆的植物，根形似萝卜，呈黄色或白色，可食用。

【268】　德弗（Thomas Durfey, 1653—1723），英国剧作家、讽刺作家和歌词作家，智者，在当时很有名。——译者注

【269】　康格里夫（Congreve, 1670—1729），英国摄政王复辟时期的杰出讽刺喜剧作家、小说家。——译者注

【270】　这里作者含蓄地将德弗（Durfey）比作大便，在更广意义上指时尚中的“智者”都一钱不值。——译者注

【271】　拉丁文，意为“这样的聚会充满活力”。——译者注

【272】　此处原文为Sleep，系作者想象的古罗马众神之一。——译者注

【273】　缪斯（Muses），希腊神话里一群来历不明的女神，被认为是诗歌、文艺和科学的保护神。——译者注

【274】　以上两句的大意是，和第一位的标新立异相比，方法得当、合理是第二位的，作者因此结论说，只要他（以智者姿态）标新立异，就既不聪明，也不完美，更词不达意。——译者注

【275】　拉丁文，意为“观察”。——译者注

Jonathan Swift

A Tale of a Tub

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

From The Preface

The wits of the present age being so very numerous and penetrating, it seems the grandees of church and state begin to fall under horrible apprehensions, lest these gentlemen, during the intervals of a long peace, should find leisure to pick holes in the weak sides of religion and government. To prevent which, there has been much thought employed of late, upon certain projects for taking off the force and edge of those formidable inquirers, from canvassing and reasoning upon such delicate points. They have at length fixed upon one, which will require some time as well as cost to perfect. Meanwhile, the danger hourly increasing, by new levies of wits, all appointed (as there is reason to fear) with pen, ink, and paper, which may, at an hour's warning, be drawn out into pamphlets, and other offensive weapons, ready for immediate execution, it was judged of absolute necessity, that some present expedient be thought on, till the main design can be brought to maturity. To this end, at a grand committee some days ago, this important discovery was made by a certain curious and refined observer — that seamen have a custom, when they meet a whale, to fling him out an empty tub by way of amusement, to divert him from laying violent hands upon the ship. This parable was immediately mythologised; the whale was interpreted to be Hobbes's Leviathan, which tosses and plays with all schemes of religion and government, whereof a great many are hollow, and dry, and empty, and noisy, and wooden, and given to rotation: this is the leviathan, whence the terrible wits of our age are said to borrow their weapons. The ship in danger is easily understood to be its old antitype, the commonwealth. But how to analyse the tub, was a matter of difficulty; when, after long inquiry and debate, the literal meaning was preserved; and it was decreed that, in order to prevent these leviathans from tossing and sporting with the commonwealth, which of itself is too apt to fluctuate, they should be diverted from that game by a Tale of a Tub. And, my genius being conceived to lie not unhappily that way, I had the honour done me to be engaged in the performance.

A Tale of a Tub

Section I
THE INTRODUCTION

Whoever has an ambition to be heard in a crowd, must press, and squeeze, and thrust, and climb, with indefatigable pains, till he has exalted himself to a certain degree of altitude above them. Now in all assemblies, though you wedge them ever so close, we may observe this peculiar property, that over their heads there is room enough, but how to reach it is the difficult point; it being as hard to get quit of number as of hell;

— evadere ad auras,

Hoc opus, hic labor est.【1】

To this end, the philosopher's way, in all ages, has been by erecting certain edifices in the air: but, whatever practice and reputation these kind of structures have formerly possessed, or may still continue in, not excepting even that of Socrates, when he was suspended in a basket to help contemplation, I think, with due submission, they seem to labour under two inconveniences. First, that the foundations being laid too high, they have been often out of sight, and ever out of hearing. Secondly, that the materials, being very transitory, have suffered much from inclemencies of air, especially in these northwest regions.

Therefore, towards the just performance of this great work, there remain but three methods that I can think of; whereof the wisdom of our ancestors being highly sensible, has, to encourage all aspiring adventurers, thought fit to erect three wooden machines for the use of those orators who desire to talk much without interruption. These are, the pulpit, the ladder, and the stage itinerant. For as to the bar, though it be compounded of the same matter, and designed for the same use, it cannot, however, be well allowed the honour of a fourth, by reason of its level or inferior situation exposing it to perpetual interruption from collaterals. Neither can the bench itself, though raised to a prominency, put in a better claim, whatever its advocates insist on. For, if they please to look into the original design of its erection, and the circumstances or adjuncts subservient to that design, they will soon acknowledge the present practice exactly correspondent to the primitive institution, and both to answer the etymology of the name, which in the Phoenician tongue is a word of great signification, importing, if literally interpreted, the place of sleep; but in common acceptation, a seat well bolstered and cushioned, for the repose of old and gouty limbs: senes ut in otia tuta recedant.【2】 Fortune being indebted to them this part of retaliation, that, as formerly they have long talked while others slept; so now they may sleep as long while others talk.

But if no other argument could occur to exclude the bench and the bar from the list of oratorial machines, it were sufficient that the admission of them would overthrow a number, which I was resolved to establish, whatever argument it might cost me; in imitation of that prudent method observed by many other philosophers and great clerks, whose chief art in division has been to grow fond of some proper mystical number, which their imaginations have rendered sacred, to a degree, that they force common reason to find room for it, in every part of nature; reducing, including, and adjusting every genus and species within that compass, by coupling some against their wills, and banishing others at any rate. Now, among all the rest, the profound number THREE is that which has most employed my sublimest speculations, nor ever without wonderful delight. There is now in the press, and will be published next term, a panegyrical essay of mine upon this number; wherein I have, by most convincing proofs, not only reduced the senses and the elements under its banner, but brought over several deserters from its two great rivals, SEVEN and NINE; the two climacterics.

Now, the first of these oratorial machines, in place as well as dignity, is the pulpit. Of pulpits there are in this island several sorts; but I esteem only that made of timber from the sylva Caledonia, which agrees very well with our climate. If it be upon its decay, it is the better both for conveyance of sound, and for other reasons to be mentioned by-and-by. The degree of perfection in shape and size I take to consist in being extremely narrow, with little ornament; and, best of all, without cover (for, by ancient rule, it ought to be the only uncovered vessel in every assembly, where it is rightfully used), by which means, from its near resemblance to a pillory, it will ever have a mighty influence on human ears.

Of ladders I need say nothing: it is observed by foreigners themselves, to the honour of our country, that we excel all nations in our practice and understanding of this machine. The ascending orators do not only oblige their audience in the agreeable delivery, but the whole world in the early publication of their speeches; which I look upon as the choicest treasury of our British eloquence, and whereof, I am informed, that worthy citizen and bookseller, Mr John Dunton, hath made a faithful and painful collection, which he shortly designs to publish, in twelve volumes in folio, illustrated with copperplates. A work highly useful and curious, and altogether worthy of such a hand.

The last engine of orators is the stage itinerant, erected with much sagacity, sub Jove pluvio, in triviis et quadriviis.【3】 It is the great seminary of the two former, and its orators are sometimes preferred to the one, and sometimes to the other, in proportion to their deservings; there being a strict and perpetual intercourse between all three.

From this accurate deduction it is manifest, that for obtaining attention in public there is of necessity required a superior position of place. But, although this point be generally granted, yet the cause is little agreed in; and it seems to me that very few philosophers have fallen into a true, natural solution of this phenomenon. The deepest account, and the most fairly digested of any I have yet met with, is this; that air being a heavy body, and therefore, according to the system of Epicurus, continually descending, must needs be more so when loaded and pressed down by words; which are also bodies of much weight and gravity, as it is manifest from those deep impressions they make and leave upon us; and therefore must be delivered from a due altitude, or else they will neither carry a good aim, nor fall down with a sufficient force.

Corpoream quoque enim vocem constare fatendum est,

Et sonitum, quoniam possunt impellere sensus.【4】

And I am the readier to favour this conjecture, from a common observation, that in the several assemblies of these orators nature itself has instructed the hearers to stand with their mouths open, and erected parallel to the horizon, so as they may be intersected by a perpendicular line from the zenith to the centre of the earth. In which position, if the audience be well compact, every one carries home a share, and little or nothing is lost.

I confess there is something yet more refined, in the contrivance and structure of our modem theatres. For, first, the pit is sunk below the stage, with due regard to the institution above deduced; that, whatever weighty matter shall be delivered thence, whether it be lead or gold, may fall plump into the jaws of certain critics, as I think they are called, which stand ready opened to devour them. Then, the boxes are built round, and raised to a level with the scene, in deference to the ladies; because, that large portion of wit, laid out in raising pruriences and protuberances, is observed to run much upon a line, and ever in a circle. The whining passions, and little starved conceits, are gently wafted up by their own extreme levity, to the middle region, and there fix and are frozen by the frigid understandings of the inhabitants. Bombastry and buffoonery, by nature lofty and light, soar highest of all, and would be lost in the roof, if the prudent architect had not, with much foresight, contrived for them a fourth place, called the twelvepenny gallery, and there planted a suitable colony, who greedily intercept them in their passage.

Now this physico-logical scheme of oratorial receptacles or machines contains a great mystery; being a type, a sign, an emblem, a shadow, a symbol, bearing analogy to the spacious commonwealth of writers, and to those methods by which they must exalt themselves to a certain eminency above the inferior world. By the pulpit are adumbrated the writings of our modern saints in Great Britain, as they have spiritualised and refined them, from the dross and grossness of sense and human reason. The matter, as we have said, is of rotten wood; and that upon two considerations; because it is the quality of rotten wood to give light in the dark: and secondly, because its cavities are full of worms; which is a type with a pair of handles, having a respect to the two principal qualifications of the orator, and the two different fates attending upon his works.

The ladder is an adequate symbol of faction and of poetry, to both of which so noble a number of authors are indebted for their fame. Of faction, because.【5】... Hiatus in MS ... Of poetry, because its orators do perorare with a song; and because, climbing up by slow degrees, fate is sure to turn them off before they can reach within many steps of the top: and because it is a preferment attained by transferring of propriety, and a confounding of meum and tuum.

Under the stage itinerant are couched those productions designed for the pleasure and delight of mortal man; such as, Six-penny-worth of Wit, Westminster Drolleries, Delightful Tales, Complete Jesters, and the like; by which the writers of and for Grub-street have in these latter ages so nobly triumphed over Time; have clipped his wings, pared his nails, filed his teeth, turned back his hour-glass, blunted his scythe, and drawn the hobnails out of his shoes. It is under this class I have presumed to list my present treatise, being just come from having the honour conferred upon me to be adopted a member of that illustrious fraternity.

Now, I am not unaware how the productions of the Grub-street brotherhood have of late years fallen under many prejudices, nor how it has been the perpetual employment of two junior start-up societies to ridicule them and their authors, as unworthy their established post in the commonwealth of wit and learning. Their own consciences will easily inform them whom I mean; nor has the world been so negligent a looker-on as not to observe the continual efforts made by the societies of Gresham【6】 and of Will's【7】 to edify a name and reputation upon the ruin of OURS. And this is yet a more feeling grief to us, upon the regards of tenderness as well as of justice, when we reflect on their proceedings not only as unjust, but as ungrateful, undutiful, and unnatural. For how can it be forgot by the world or themselves, to say nothing of our own records, which are full and clear in the point, that they both are seminaries not only of our planting, but our watering too? I am informed, our two rivals have lately made an offer to enter into the lists with united forces, and challenge us to a comparison of books, both as to weight and number. In return to which, with license from our president, I humbly offer two answers: first, we say, the proposal is like that which Archimedes made upon a smaller affair, including an impossibility in the practice; for where can they find scales of capacity enough for the first; or an arithmetician of capacity enough for the second? Secondly, we are ready to accept the challenge; but with this condition, that a third indifferent person be assigned, to whose impartial judgment it should be left to decide which society each book, treatise, or pamphlet do most properly belong to. This point, God knows, is very far from being fixed at present; for we are ready to produce a catalogue of some thousands, which in all common justice ought to be entitled to our fraternity, but by the revolted and new-fangled writers, most perfidiously ascribed to the others. Upon all which, we think it very unbecoming our prudence that the determination should be remitted to the authors themselves; when our adversaries, by briguing and caballing, have caused so universal a defection from us, that the greatest part of our society has already deserted to them, and our nearest friends begin to stand aloof, as if they were half ashamed to own us.

This is the utmost I am authorised to say upon so ungrateful and melancholy a subject; because we are extremely unwilling to inflame a controversy whose continuance may be so fatal to the interests of us all, desiring much rather that things be amicably composed; and we shall so far advance on our side as to be ready to receive the two prodigals with open arms whenever they shall think fit to return from their husks and their harlots; which, I think, from the present course of their studies, they most properly may be said to be engaged in; and, like an indulgent parent, continue to them our affection and our blessing.

But the greatest maim given to that general reception which the writings of our society have formerly received (next to the transitory state of all sublunary things) has been a superficial vein among many readers of the present age, who will by no means be persuaded to inspect beyond the surface and the rind of things; whereas, wisdom is a fox, who, after long hunting, will at last cost you the pains to dig out; it is a cheese, which, by how much the richer, has the thicker, the homelier, and the coarser coat; and whereof, to a judicious palate, the maggots are the best; it is a sack-posset, wherein the deeper you go, you will find it the sweeter. Wisdom is a hen, whose cackling we must value and consider, because it is attended with an egg; but then lastly, it is a nut, which, unless you choose with judgment, may cost you a tooth, and pay you with nothing but a worm. In consequence of these momentous truths, the grubaean sages have always chosen to convey their precepts and their arts shut up within the vehicles of types and fables; which having been perhaps more careful and curious in adorning than was altogether necessary, it has fared with these vehicles, after the usual fate of coaches overfinely painted and gilt, that the transitory gazers have so dazzled their eyes and filled their imaginations with the outward lustre, as neither to regard or consider the person or the parts of the owner within. A misfortune we undergo with somewhat less reluctancy, because it has been common to us with Pythagoras, Aesop, Socrates, and other of our predecessors.

However, that neither the world nor ourselves may any longer suffer by such misunderstandings, I have been prevailed on, after much importunity from my friends, to travel in a complete and laborious dissertation upon the prime productions of our society; which, beside their beautiful externals, for the gratification of superficial readers, have darkly and deeply couched under them the most finished and refined systems of all sciences and arts; as I do not doubt to lay open, by untwisting or unwinding, and either to draw up by exantlation, or display by incision.

This great work was entered upon some years ago, by one of our most eminent members; he began with the History of Reynard the Fox, but neither lived to publish his essay nor to proceed farther in so useful an attempt; which is very much to be lamented, because the discovery he made and communicated with his friends is now universally received; nor do I think any of the learned will dispute that famous treatise to be a complete body of civil knowledge, and the revelation, or rather the apocalypse, of all state arcana. But the progress I have made is much greater, having finished my annotations upon several dozens; from some of which I shall impart a few hints to the candid reader, as far as will be necessary to the conclusion at which I aim.

The first piece I have handled is that of Tom Thumb, whose author was a Pythagorean philosopher. This dark treatise contains the whole scheme of the Metempsychosis, deducing the progress of the soul through all her stages.

The next is Dr Faustus, penned by Artephius, an author bonae notae, and an adeptus; he published it in the nine-hundred-eighty-fourth year of his age; this writer proceeds wholly by reincrudation, or in the via humida; and the marriage between Faustus and Helen does most conspicuously dilucidate the fermenting of the male and female dragon.

Whittington and his Cat is the work of that mysterious rabbi, Jehuda Hannasi, containing a defence of the gemara of the Jerusalem misna, and its just preference to that of Babylon, contrary to the vulgar opinion.

The Hind and Panther. This is the masterpiece of a famous writer now living, intended for a complete abstract of sixteen thousand school-men, from Scotus to Bellarmin.

Tommy Pots. Another piece, supposed by the same hand, by way of supplement to the former.

The Wise Men of Gotham, cum appendice. This is a treatise of immense erudition, being the great original and fountain of those arguments bandied about both in France and England for a just defence of the moderns' learning and wit, against the presumption, the pride, and ignorance of the ancients. This unknown author has so exhausted the subject, that a penetrating reader will easily discover whatever has been written since upon that dispute to be little more than repetition. An abstract of this treatise has been lately published by a worthy member of our society.

These notices may serve to give the learned reader an idea, as well as a taste, of what the whole work is likely to produce; wherein I have now altogether circumscribed my thoughts and my studies; and, if I can bring it to a perfection before I die, shall reckon I have well employed the poor remains of an unfortunate life. This, indeed, is more than I can justly expect, from a quill worn to the pith in the service of the state, in pros and cons upon Popish plots, and meal-tubs, and exclusion bills, and passive obedience, and addresses of lives and fortunes, and prerogative, and property, and liberty of conscience, and letters to a friend; from an understanding and a conscience threadbare and ragged with perpetual turning; from a head broken in a hundred places by the malignants of the opposite factions; and from a body spent with poxes ill cured, by trusting to bawds and surgeons, who, as it afterwards appeared, were professed enemies to me and the government, and revenged their party's quarrel upon my nose and shins. Fourscore and eleven pamphlets have I written under three reigns, and for the service of six-and-thirty factions. But, finding the state has no farther occasion for me and my ink, I retire willingly to draw it out into speculations more becoming a philosopher; having, to my unspeakable comfort, passed a long life with a conscience void of offence.

But to return. I am assured, from the reader's candour, that the brief specimen I have given will easily clear all the rest of our society's productions from an aspersion grown, as it is manifest, out of envy and ignorance; that they are of little farther use or value to mankind beyond the common entertainments of their wit and their style; for these I am sure have never yet been disputed by our keenest adversaries; in both which, as well as the more profound and mystical part, I have, throughout this treatise, closely followed the most applauded originals. And to render all complete, I have, with much thought and application of mind, so ordered, that the chief title prefixed to it, I mean that under which I design it shall pass in the common conversations of court and town, is modelled exactly after the manner peculiar to our society.

I confess to have been somewhat liberal in the business of titles, having observed the humour of multiplying them to bear great vogue among certain writers, whom I exceedingly reverence. And indeed it seems not unreasonable that books, the children of the brain, should have the honour to be christened with variety of names as well as other infants of quality. Our famous Dryden has ventured to proceed a point farther, endeavouring to introduce also a multiplicity of godfathers; which is an improvement of much more advantage upon a very obvious account. It is a pity this admirable invention has not been better cultivated, so as to grow by this time into general imitation, when such an authority serves it for a precedent. Nor have my endeavours been wanting to second so useful an example; but it seems there is an unhappy expense usually annexed to the calling of a godfather, which was clearly out of my head, as it is very reasonable to believe. Where the pinch lay I cannot certainly affirm; but having employed a world of thoughts and pains to split my treatise into forty sections, and having entreated forty lords of my acquaintance that they would do me the honour to stand, they all made it a matter of conscience, and sent me their excuses.

Section II

Once upon a time there was a man who had three sons by one wife,【8】 and all at a birth, neither could the midwife tell certainly which was the eldest. Their father died while they were young; and upon his death-bed, calling the lads to him, spoke thus:

'Sons, because I have purchased no estate, nor was born to any, I have long considered of some good legacies to bequeath you; and at last, with much care, as well as expense, have provided each of you (here they are) a new coat. Now, you are to understand that these coats have two virtues contained in them; one is, that with good wearing they will last you fresh and sound as long as you live; the other is, that they will grow in the same proportion with your bodies, lengthening and widening of themselves, so as to be always fit. Here; let me see them on you before I die. So; very well; pray, children, wear them clean, and brush them often. You will find in my will, here it is, full instructions in every particular concerning the wearing and management of your coats; wherein you must be very exact, to avoid the penalties I have appointed for every transgression or neglect, upon which your future fortunes will entirely depend. I have also commanded in my will that you should live together in one house like brethren and friends, for then you will be sure to thrive, and not otherwise.'

Here the story says, this good father died, and the three sons went all together to seek their fortunes.

I shall not trouble you with recounting what adventures they met for the first seven years, any farther than by taking notice that they carefully observed their father's will, and kept their coats in very good order: that they travelled through several countries, encountered a reasonable quantity of giants, and slew certain dragons.

Being now arrived at the proper age for producing themselves, they came up to town, and fell in love with the ladies, but especially three, who about that time were in chief reputation; the Duchess d'Argent, Madame de Grands Titres, and the Countess d'Orgueil.【9】On their first appearance our three adventurers met with a very bad reception; and soon with great sagacity guessing out the reason, they quickly began to improve in the good qualities of the town; they wrote, and rallied, and rhymed, and sung, and said, and said nothing; they drank, and fought, and whored, and slept, and swore, and took snuff; they went to new plays on the first night, haunted the chocolate-houses, beat the watch, lay on bulks, and got claps; they bilked hackney-coachmen, ran in debt with shopkeepers, and lay with their wives; they killed bailiffs, kicked fiddlers down stairs, ate at Locket's, loitered at Will's; they talked of the drawing-room, and never came there; dined with lords they never saw; whispered a duchess, and spoke never a word; exposed the scrawls of their laundress for billets-doux of quality; came over just from court, and were never seen in it; attended the levee sub dio; got a list of peers by heart in one company, and with great familiarity retailed them in another. Above all, they constantly attended those committees of senators who are silent in the house and loud in the coffee-house; where they nightly adjourn to chew the cud of politics, and are encompassed with a ring of disciples, who lie in wait to catch up their droppings. The three brothers had acquired forty other qualifications of the like stamp, too tedious to recount, and by consequence were justly reckoned the most accomplished persons in the town; but all would not suffice, and the ladies aforesaid continued still inflexible. To clear up which difficulty I must, with the reader's good leave and patience, have recourse to some points of weight, which the authors of that age have not sufficiently illustrated.

For about this time it happened a sect arose whose tenets obtained and spread very far, especially in the grand monde, and among everybody of good fashion. They worshipped a sort of idol, who, as their doctrine delivered, did daily create men by a kind of manufactory operation. This idol they placed in the highest part of the house, on an altar erected about three foot; he was shown in the posture of a Persian emperor, sitting on a superficies, with his legs interwoven under him. This god had a goose for his ensign; whence it is that some learned men pretend to deduce his original from Jupiter Capitolinus. At his left hand, beneath the altar, hell seemed to open and catch at the animals the idol was creating; to prevent which, certain of his priests hourly flung in pieces of the uninformed mass, or substance, and sometimes whole limbs already enlivened, which that horrid gulf insatiably swallowed, terrible to behold. The goose was also held a subaltern divinity or deus minorum gentium, before whose shrine was sacrificed that creature whose hourly food is human gore, and who is in so great renown abroad for being the delight and favourite of the Egyptian Cercopithecus. Millions of these animals were cruelly slaughtered every day to appease the hunger of that consuming deity. The chief idol was also worshipped as the inventor of the yard and needle; whether as the god of seamen, or on account of certain other mystical attributes, has not been sufficiently cleared.

The worshippers of this deity had also a system of their belief, which seemed to turn upon the following fundamentals. They held the universe to be a large suit of clothes, which invests everything; that the earth is invested by the air; the air is invested by the stars; and the stars are invested by the primum mobile. Look on this globe of earth, you will find it to be a very complete and fashionable dress. What is that which some call land but a fine coat faced with green? or the sea, but a waistcoat of water-tabby? Proceed to the particular works of the creation, you will find how curious journeyman Nature has been to trim up the vegetable beaux; observe how sparkish a periwig adorns the head of a beech, and what a fine doublet of white satin is worn by the birch. To conclude from all, what is man himself but a microcoat, or rather a complete suit of clothes with all its trimmings? As to his body there can be no dispute; but examine even the acquirements of his mind, you will find them all contribute in their order towards furnishing out an exact dress: to instance no more; is not religion a cloak, honesty a pair of shoes worn out in the dirt, self-love a surtout, vanity a shirt, and conscience a pair of breeches, which, though a cover for lewdness as well as nastiness, is easily slipt down for the service of both?

These postulata being admitted, it will follow in due course of reasoning that those beings, which the world calls improperly suits of clothes, are in reality the most refined species of animals; or, to proceed higher, that they are rational creatures or men. For, is it not manifest that they live, and move, and talk, and perform all other offices of human life? are not beauty, and wit, and mien, and breeding, their inseparable proprieties? in short, we see nothing but them, hear nothing but them. Is it not they who walk the streets, fill up parliament, coffee-, play-, bawdy-houses? It is true, indeed, that these animals, which are vulgarly called suits of clothes, or dresses, do, according to certain compositions, receive different appellations. If one of them be trimmed up with a gold chain, and a red gown, and white rod, and a great horse, it is called a lord-mayor: if certain ermines and furs be placed in a certain position, we style them a judge; and so an apt conjunction of lawn and black satin we entitle a bishop.

Others of these professors, though agreeing in the main system, were yet more refined upon certain branches of it; and held that man was an animal compounded of two dresses, the natural and celestial suit, which were the body and the soul: that the soul was the outward, and the body the inward clothing; that the latter was ex traduce; but the former of daily creation and circumfusion; this last they proved by scripture, because in them we live, and move, and have our being; as likewise by philosophy, because they are all in all, and all in every part. Besides, said they, separate these two and you will find the body to be only a senseless unsavoury carcase; by all which it is manifest that the outward dress must needs be the soul.

To this system of religion were tagged several subaltern doctrines, which were entertained with great vogue: as particularly the faculties of the mind were deduced by the learned among them in this manner; embroidery was sheer wit, gold fringe was agreeable conversation, gold lace was repartee, a huge long periwig was humour, and a coat full of powder was very good raillery — all which required abundance of finesse and delicatesse to manage with advantage, as well as a strict observance after times and fashions.

I have, with much pains and reading, collected out of ancient authors this short summary of a body of philosophy and divinity, which seems to have been composed by a vein and race of thinking very different from any other systems either ancient or modern. And it was not merely to entertain or satisfy the reader's curiosity, but rather to give him light into several circumstances of the following story; that, knowing the state of dispositions and opinions in an age so remote, he may better comprehend those great events which were the issue of them. I advise, therefore, the courteous reader to peruse with a world of application, again and again, whatever I have written upon this matter. And so leaving these broken ends, I carefully gather up the chief thread of my story and proceed.

These opinions, therefore, were so universal, as well as the practices of them, among the refined part of court and town, that our three brother adventurers, as their circumstances then stood, were strangely at a loss. For, on the one side, the three ladies they addressed themselves to, whom we have named already, were ever at the very top of the fashion, and abhorred all that were below it but the breadth of a hair. On the other side, their father's will was very precise; and it was the main precept in it, with the greatest penalties annexed, not to add to or diminish from their coats one thread, without a positive command in the will. Now, the coats their father had left them were, it is true, of very good cloth, and besides so neatly sewn, you would swear they were all of a piece; but at the same time very plain, and with little or no ornament: and it happened that before they were a month in town great shoulderknots came up — straight all the world was shoulderknots — no approaching the ladies' ruelles without the quota of shoulder-knots. That fellow, cries one, has no soul; where is his shoulder-knot? Our three brethren soon discovered their want by sad experience, meeting in their walks with forty mortifications and indignities. If they went to the playhouse the door-keeper showed them into the twelvepenny gallery; if they called a boat, says a waterman, 'I am first sculler;' if they stepped to the Rose to take a bottle, the drawer would cry, 'Friend, we sell no ale;' if they went to visit a lady, a footman met them at the door with 'Pray send up your message.' In this unhappy case they went immediately to consult their father's will, read it over and over, but not a word of the shoulder-knot. What should they do? — what temper should they find? — obedience was absolutely necessary, and yet shoulder-knots appeared extremely requisite. After much thought one of the brothers, who happened to be more book-learned, than the other two, said he had found an expedient. It is true, said he, there is nothing here in this will, totidem verbis, making mention of shoulder-knots: but I dare conjecture we may find them inclusive, or totidem syllabis. This distinction was immediately approved by all, and so they fell again to examine; but their evil star had so directed the matter that the first syllable was not to be found in the whole writings. Upon which disappointment, he who found the former evasion took heart, and said, 'Brothers, there are yet hopes; for though we cannot find them totidem verbis, nor totidem syllabis, I dare engage we shall make them out tertio modo or totidem literis.' This discovery was also highly commended, upon which they fell once more to the scrutiny, and soon picked out S, H, O, U, L, D, E, R; when the same planet, enemy to their repose, had wonderfully contrived that a K was not to be found. Here was a weighty difficulty! but the distinguishing brother, for whom we shall hereafter find a name, now his hand was in, proved by a very good argument that K was a modern, illegitimate letter, unknown to the learned ages, nor anywhere to be found in ancient manuscripts. It is true, said he, the word Calendae, hath in Q.V.C. been sometimes written with a K, but erroneously; for in the best copies it has been ever spelt with a C. And, by consequence, it was a gross mistake in our language to spell knot with a K; but that from henceforward he would take care it should be written with a C. Upon this all farther difficulty vanished — shoulder-knots were made clearly out to be jure paterno, and our three gentlemen swaggered with as large and as flaunting ones as the best. But, as human happiness is of a very short duration, so in those days were human fashions, upon which it entirely depends. Shoulder-knots had their time, and we must now imagine them in their decline; for a certain lord came just from Paris, with fifty yards of gold lace upon his coat, exactly trimmed after the court fashion of that month. In two days all mankind appeared closed up in bars of gold lace: whoever durst peep abroad without his complement of gold lace was as scandalous as a —, and as ill received among the women: what should our three knights do in this momentous affair? they had sufficiently strained a point already in the affair of shoulder-knots: upon recourse to the will, nothing appeared there but altum silentium. That of the shoulder-knots was a loose, flying, circumstantial point; but this of gold lace seemed too considerable an alteration without better warrant; it did aliquo modo essentiae adhaerere,【10】 and therefore required a positive precept. But about this time it fell out that the learned brother aforesaid had read Aristotelis dialectica, and especially that wonderful piece de interpretatione, which has the faculty of teaching its readers to find out a meaning in everything but itself; like commentators on the Revelations, who proceed prophets without understanding a syllable of the text. Brothers, said he, you are to be informed that of wills duo sunt genera, nuncupatory and scriptory: that in the scriptory will here before us there is no precept or mention about gold lace, conceditur: but si idem affirmetur de nuncupatorio, negatur.【11】 For, brothers, if you remember, we heard a fellow say when we were boys that he heard my father's man say that he would advise his sons to get gold lace on their coats as soon as ever they could procure money to buy it. By G — ! that is very true, cries the other; I remember it perfectly well, said the third. And so without more ado they got the largest gold lace in the parish, and walked about as fine as lords.

A while after there came up all in fashion a pretty sort of flame-coloured satin for linings; and the mercer brought a pattern of it immediately to our three gentlemen; An please your worships, said he, my lord Conway and Sir John Walters had linings out of this very piece last night: it takes wonderfully, and I shall not have a remnant left enough to make my wife a pincushion by tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. Upon this they fell again to rummage the will, because the present case also required a positive precept — the lining being held by orthodox writers to be of the essence of the coat. After a long search they could fix upon nothing to the matter in hand, except a short advice of their father in the will to take care of fire and put out their candles before they went to sleep. This, though a good deal for the purpose, and helping very far towards selfconviction, yet not seeming wholly of force to establish a command (being resolved to avoid further scruple as well as future occasion for scandal), says he that was the scholar, I remember to have read in wills of a codicil annexed, which is indeed a part of the will, and what it contains has equal authority with the rest. Now, I have been considering of this same will here before us, and I cannot reckon it to be complete for want of such a codicil: I will therefore fasten one in its proper place very dexterously — I have had it by me some time — it was written by a dog-keeper of my grandfather's, and talks a great deal, as good luck would have it, of this very flame-coloured satin. The project was immediately approved by the other two; an old parchment scroll was tagged on according to art in the form of a codicil annexed, and the satin bought and worn.

Next winter a player, hired for the purpose by the corporation of fringe-makers, acted his part in a new comedy, all covered with silver fringe, and, according to the laudable custom, gave rise to that fashion. Upon which the brothers, consulting their father's will, to their great astonishment found these words; item, I charge and command my said three sons to wear no sort of silver fringe upon or about their said coats, etc., with a penalty, in case of disobedience, too long here to insert. However, after some pause, the brother so often mentioned for his erudition, who was well skilled in criticisms, had found in a certain author, which he said should be nameless, that the same word which in the will is called fringe does also signify a broomstick: and doubtless ought to have the same interpretation in this paragraph. This another of the brothers disliked, because of that epithet silver, which could not he humbly conceived in propriety of speech be reasonably applied to a broomstick: but it was replied upon him that this epithet was understood in a mythological and allegorical sense. However, he objected again why their father should forbid them to wear a broomstick on their coats — a caution that seemed unnatural and impertinent; upon which he was taken up short, as one that spoke irreverently of a mystery, which doubtless was very useful and significant, but ought not to be over-curiously pried into or nicely reasoned upon. And, in short, their father's authority being now considerably sunk, this expedient was allowed to serve as a lawful dispensation for wearing their full proportion of silver fringe.

A while after was revived an old fashion, long antiquated, of embroidery with Indian figures of men, women, and children. Here they remembered but too well how their father had always abhorred this fashion; that he made several paragraphs on purpose, importing his utter detestation of it, and bestowing his everlasting curse to his sons whenever they should wear it. For all this, in a few days they appeared higher in the fashion than anybody else in the town. But they solved the matter by saying that these figures were not at all the same with those that were formerly worn and were meant in the will. Besides, they did not wear them in the sense as forbidden by their father; but as they were a commendable custom, and of great use to the public. That these rigorous clauses in the will did therefore require some allowance and a favourable interpretation, and ought to be understood cum grano-salis.

But fashions perpetually altering in that age, the scholastic brother grew weary of searching farther evasions, and solving everlasting contradictions. Resolved, therefore, at all hazards, to comply with the modes of the world, they concerted matters together, and agreed unanimously to lock up their father's will in a strong box, brought out of Greece or Italy, I have forgotten which, and trouble themselves no farther to examine it, but only refer to its authority whenever they thought fit. In consequence whereof, a while after it grew a general mode to wear an infinite number of points, most of them tagged with silver; upon which the scholar pronounced, ex cathedra, that points were absolutely jure paterno, as they might very well remember. It is true, indeed, the fashion prescribed somewhat more than were directly named in the will; however, that they, as heirs-general of their father, had power to make and add certain clauses for public emolument, though not deducible, totidem verbis, from the letter of the will, or else multa absurda sequerentur. This was understood for canonical, and therefore, on the following Sunday, they came to church all covered with points.

The learned brother, so often mentioned, was reckoned the best scholar in all that or the next street to it, insomuch as, having run something behindhand in the world, he obtained the favour of a certain lord【12】 to receive him into his house, and to teach his children. A while after the lord died, and he, by long practice upon his father's will, found the way of contriving a deed of conveyance of that house to himself and his heirs; upon which he took possession, turned the young squires out, and received his brothers in their stead.

Section III
A DIGRESSION CONCERNING CRITICS

Although I have been hitherto as cautious as I could, upon all occasions, most nicely to follow the rules and methods of writing laid down by the example of our illustrious modems; yet has the unhappy shortness of my memory led me into an error from which I must immediately extricate myself, before I can decently pursue my principal subject. I confess with shame it was an unpardonable omission to proceed so far as I have already done before I had performed the due discourses, expostulatory, supplicatory, or deprecatory, with my good lords the critics. Towards some atonement for this grievous neglect, I do here make bold humbly to present them with a short account of themselves and their art, by looking into the origin and pedigree of the word, as it is generally understood among us; and very briefly considering the ancient and present state thereof.

By the word critic, at this day so frequent in all conversations, there have sometimes been distinguished three very different species of mortal men, according as I have read in ancient books and pamphlets. For first, by this term were understood such persons as invented or drew up rules for themselves and the world, by observing which a careful reader might be able to pronounce upon the productions of the learned, form his taste to a true relish of the sublime and the admirable, and divide every beauty of matter or of style from the corruption that apes it: in their common perusal of books singling out the errors and defects, the nauseous, the fulsome, the dull, and the impertinent, with the caution of a man that walks through Edinburgh streets in a morning, who is indeed as careful as he can to watch diligently and spy out the filth in his way; not that he is curious to observe the colour and complexion of the ordure, or take its dimensions, much less to be paddling in or tasting it; but only with a design to come out as cleanly as he may. These men seem, though very erroneously, to have understood the appellation of critic in a literal sense; that one principal part of his office was to praise and acquit; and that a critic, who sets up to read only for an occasion of censure and reproof is a creature as barbarous as a judge who should take up a resolution to hang all men that came before him upon a trial.

Again, by the word critic have been meant the restorers of ancient learning from the worms, and graves, and dust of manuscripts.

Now the races of those two have been for some ages utterly extinct; and besides, to discourse any farther of them would not be at all to my purpose.

The third and noblest sort is that of the TRUE CRITIC, whose original is the most ancient of all. Every true critic is a hero born, descending in a direct line from a celestial stem by Momus and Hybris, who begat Zoilus, who begat Tigellius, who begat Etcaetera the elder; who begat Bentley, and Rymer, and Wotton, and Perrault, and Dennis; who begat Etcaetera the younger.

And these are the critics from whom the common wealth of learning has in all ages received such immense benefits, that the gratitude of their admirers placed their origin in Heaven, among those of Hercules, Theseus, Perseus, and other great deservers of mankind. But heroic virtue itself has not been exempt from the obloquy of evil tongues. For it has been objected that those ancient heroes, famous for their combating so many giants, and dragons, and robbers, were in their own persons a greater nuisance to mankind than any of those monsters they subdued; and therefore, to render their obligations more complete, when all other vermin were destroyed, should, in conscience, have concluded with the same justice upon themselves. As Hercules most generously did, and upon that score procured to himself more temples and votaries than the best of his fellows. For these reasons I suppose it is why some have conceived it would be very expedient for the public good of learning that every true critic, as soon as he had finished his task assigned, should immediately deliver himself up to ratsbane, or hemp, or leap from some convenient altitude; and that no man's pretensions to so illustrious a character should by any means be received before that operation were performed.

Now, from this heavenly descent of criticism, and the close analogy it bears to heroic virtue, it is easy to assign the proper employment of a true ancient genuine critic, which is, to travel through this vast world of writings; to pursue and hunt those monstrous faults bred within them; to drag out the lurking errors, like Cacus from his den; to multiply them like Hydra's heads; and rake them together like Augeas's dung: or else drive away a sort of dangerous fowl, who have a perverse inclination to plunder the best branches of the tree of knowledge, like those stymphalian birds that eat up the fruit.

These reasonings will furnish us with an adequate definition of a true critic; that he is discoverer and collector of writers' faults; which may be farther put beyond dispute by the following demonstration; that whoever will examine the writings in all kinds, wherewith this ancient sect has honoured the world, shall immediately find, from the whole thread and tenor of them, that the ideas of the authors have been altogether conversant and taken up with the faults, and blemishes, and oversights, and mistakes of other writers: and, let the subject treated on be whatever it will, their imaginations are so entirely possessed and replete with the defects of other pens, that the very quintessence of what is bad does of necessity distil into their own; by which means the whole appears to be nothing else but an abstract of the criticisms themselves have made.

Having thus briefly considered the original and office of a critic, as the word is understood in its most noble and universal acceptation, I proceed to refute the objections of those who argue from the silence and pretermission of authors; by which they pretend to prove that the very art of criticism, as now exercised, and by me explained, is wholly modem; and consequently that the critics of Great Britain and France have no title to an original so ancient and illustrious as I have deduced. Now, if I can clearly make out, on the contrary, that the ancient writers have particularly described both the person and the office of a true critic, agreeably to the definition laid down by me, their grand objection, from the silence of authors, will fall to the ground.

I confess to have, for a long time, borne a part in this general error: from which I should never have acquitted myself, but through the assistance of our noble moderns; whose most edifying volumes I turn undefatigably over night and day for the improvement of my mind and the good of my country: these have, with unwearied pains, made many useful searches into the weak sides of the ancients, and given us a comprehensive list of them. Besides, they have proved beyond contradiction that the very finest things delivered of old have been long since invented and brought to light by much later pens; and that the noblest discoveries those ancients ever made, of art or of nature, have all been produced by the transcending genius of the present age. Which clearly shows how little merit those ancients can justly pretend to, and takes off that blind admiration paid them by men in a corner who have the unhappiness of conversing too little with present things. Reflecting maturely upon all this, and taking in the whole compass of human nature, I easily concluded that these ancients, highly sensible of their many imperfections, must needs have endeavoured, from some passages in their works, to obviate, soften, or divert the censorious reader, by satire or panegyric upon the true critics, in imitation of their masters, the modems. Now, in the commonplaces of both these I was plentifully instructed by a long course of useful study in prefaces and prologues; and therefore immediately resolved to try what I could discover of either by a diligent perusal of the most ancient writers, and especially those who treated of the earliest times. Here I found to my great surprise, that although they all entered, upon occasion, into particular descriptions of the true critic, according as they were governed by their fears or their hopes, yet whatever they touched of that kind was with abundance of caution, adventuring no further than mythology and hieroglyphic. This, I suppose, gave ground to superficial readers for urging the silence of authors against the antiquity of the true critic, though the types are so opposite, and the applications so necessary and natural, that it is not easy to conceive how any reader of a modern eye and taste could overlook them. I shall venture from a great number to produce a few, which, I am very confident, will put this question beyond dispute.

It well deserves considering that these ancient writers, in treating enigmatically upon this subject, have generally fixed upon the very same hieroglyph, varying only the story, according to their affections or their wit. For first, Pausanias is of opinion that the perfection of writing correct was entirely owing to the institution of critics; and that he can possibly mean no other than the true critic is, I think, manifest enough from the following description. He says, they were a race of men who delighted to nibble at the superfluities and excrescencies of books, which the learned at length observing, took warning, of their own accord, to lop the luxuriant, the rotten, the dead, the sapless, and the overgrown branches from their works. But now all this he cunningly shades under the following allegory; that the Nauplians in Argos learned the art of pruning their vines, by observing, that when an ASS had browsed upon one of them, it thrived the better and bore fairer fruit. But Herodotus, holding the very same hieroglyph, speaks much plainer, and almost in terminis. He has been so bold as to tax the true critics of ignorance and malice; telling us openly, for I think nothing can be plainer, that in the western part of Lybia there were ASSES with horns: upon which relation Ctesias yet refines, mentioning the very same animal about India, adding that, whereas all other ASSES wanted a gall, these homed ones were so redundant in that part, that their flesh was not to be eaten, because of its extreme bitterness.

Now, the reason why those ancient writers treated this subject only by types and figures was, because they durst not make open attacks against a party so potent and so terrible as the critics of those ages were; whose very voice was so dreadful that a legion of authors would tremble and drop their pens at the sound; for so Herodotus tells us expressly in another place, how a vast army of Scythians was put to flight in a panic terror by the braying of an ASS. From hence it is conjectured by certain profound philologers that the great awe and reverence paid to a true critic by the writers of Britain have been derived to us from those our Scythian ancestors. In short, this dread was so universal, that in process of time those authors who had a mind to publish their sentiments more freely, in describing the true critics of their several ages, were forced to leave off the use of the former hieroglyph, as too nearly approaching the prototype, and invented other terms instead thereof, that were more cautious and mystical: so, Diodorus, speaking to the same purpose, ventures no farther than to say that in the mountains of Helicon there grows a certain weed which bears a flower of so damned a scent as to poison those who offer to smell it. Lucretius gives exactly the same relation: —

Est etiam in magnis Heliconis montibus arbos,

Floris odore hominem tetro consueta necare.【13】

But Ctesias, whom we recently quoted, has been a great deal bolder; he had been used with much severity by the true critics of his own age, and therefore could not forbear to leave behind him at least one deep mark of his vengeance against the whole tribe. His meaning is so near the surface, that I wonder how it possibly came to be overlooked by those who deny the antiquity of the true critics. For, pretending to make a description of many strange animals about India, he has set down these remarkable words: Among the rest, says he, there is a serpent that wants teeth, and consequently cannot bite; but if its vomit, to which it is much addicted, happens to fall upon anything, a certain rottenness or corruption ensues: these serpents are generally found among the mountains where jewels grow, and they frequently emit a poisonous juice: whereof whoever drinks, that person's brains fly out of his nostrils.

There was also among the ancients a sort of critics, not distinguished in species from the former, but in growth or degree, who seem to have been only the tyros or junior scholars; yet, because of their differing employments, they are frequently mentioned as a sect by themselves. The usual exercise of these younger students was to attend constantly at theatres, and learn to spy out the worst parts of the play, whereof they were obliged carefully to take note and render a rational account to their tutors. Fleshed at these smaller sports, like young wolves, they grew up in time to be nimble and strong enough for hunting down large game. For it has been observed, both among ancients and moderns, that a true critic has one quality in common with a whore and an alderman, never to change his title or his nature; that a grey critic has been certainly a green one, the perfections and acquirements of his age being only the improved talents of his youth; like hemp, which some naturalists inform us is bad for suffocations, though taken but in the seed. I esteem the invention, or at least the refinement of prologues, to have been owing to these younger proficients, of whom Terence makes frequent and honourable mention, under the name of malevoli.

Now, it is certain the institution of the true critics was of absolute necessity to the commonwealth of learning. For all human actions seem to be divided, like Themistocles and his company; one man can fiddle, and another can make a small town a great city; and he that cannot do either one or the other deserves to be kicked out of the creation. The avoiding of which penalty has doubtless given the first birth to the nation of critics; and withal, an occasion for their secret detractors to report that a true critic is a sort of mechanic, set up with a stock and tools for his trade at as little expense as a tailor; and that there is much analogy between the utensils and abilities of both: that the tailor's hell is the type of a critic's common-place book, and his wit and learning held forth by the goose; that it requires at least as many of these to the making up of one scholar, as of the others to the composition of a man; that the valour of both is equal, and their weapons nearly of a size. Much may be said in answer to those invidious reflections; and I can positively affirm the first to be a falsehood: for, on the contrary, nothing is more certain than that it requires greater layings out to be free of the critic's company than of any other you can name. For as, to be a true beggar, it will cost the richest candidate every groat he is worth; so, before one can commence a true critic, it will cost a man all the good qualities of his mind; which, perhaps for a less purchase, would be thought but an indifferent bargain.

Having thus amply proved the antiquity of criticism, and described the primitive state of it, I shall now examine the present condition of this empire, and show how well it agrees with its ancient self. A certain author, whose works have many ages since been entirely lost, does, in his fifth book and eighth chapter, say of critics that their writings are the mirrors of learning. This I understand in a literal sense, and suppose our author must mean, that whoever designs to be a perfect writer must inspect into the books of critics, and correct his invention there, as in a mirror. Now, whoever considers that the mirrors of the ancients were made of brass, and the sine mercurio, may presently apply the two principal qualifications of a true modem critic, and consequently must needs conclude that these have always been, and must be for ever, the same. For brass is an emblem of duration, and, when it is skilfully burnished, will cast reflection from its own superficies, without any assistance of mercury from behind. All the other talents of a critic will not require a particular mention, being included or easily deducible to these. However, I shall conclude with three maxims, which may serve both as characteristics to distinguish a true modem critic from a pretender, and will be also of admirable use to those worthy spirits who engage in so useful and honourable an art.

The first is, that criticism, contrary to all other faculties of the intellect, is ever held the truest and best when it is the very first result of the critic's mind; as fowlers reckon the first aim for the surest, and seldom fail of missing the mark if they stay not for a second. Secondly, the true critics are known by their talent of swarming about the noblest writers, to which they are carried merely by instinct, as a rat to the best cheese, or as a wasp to the fairest fruit. So when the king is on horseback, he is sure to be the dirtiest person of the company; and they that make their court best are such as bespatter him most.

Lastly, a true critic, in the perusal of a book, is like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and stomach are wholly set upon what the guests fling away, and consequently is apt to snarl most when there are the fewest bones.

Thus much, I think, is sufficient to serve by way of address to my patrons, the true modem critics; and may very well atone for my past silence, as well as that which I am likely to observe for the future. I hope I have deserved so well of their whole body as to meet with generous and tender usage at their hands. Supported by which expectation, I go on boldly to pursue those adventures already so happily begun.

Section IV
A TALE OF A TUB

I have now, with much pains and study, conducted the reader to a period where he must expect to hear of great revolutions. For no sooner had our learned brother, so often mentioned, got a warm house of his own over his head than he began to look big and to take mightily upon him; insomuch that, unless the gentle reader, out of his great candour, will please a little to exalt his idea, I am afraid he will henceforth hardly know the hero of the play when he happens to meet him; his part, his dress, and his mien being so much altered.

He told his brothers he would have them to know that he was their elder, and consequently his father's sole heir; nay, a while after, he would not allow them to call him brother, but Mr PETER, and then he must be styled Father PETER; and sometimes, My Lord PETER. To support this grandeur, which he soon began to consider could not be maintained without a better fonde than what he was born to, after much thought, he cast about at last to turn projector and virtuoso, wherein he so well succeeded, that many famous discoveries, projects, and machines, which bear great vogue and practice at present in the world, are owing entirely to lord PETER'S invention. I will deduce the best account I have been able to collect of the chief among them, without considering much the order they came out in; because I think authors are not well agreed as to that point.

I hope, when this treatise of mine shall be translated into foreign languages (as I may without vanity affirm that the labour of collecting, the faithfulness in recounting, and the great usefulness of the matter to the public, will amply deserve that justice), that the worthy members of the several academies abroad, especially those of France and Italy, will favourably accept these humble offers for the advancement of universal knowledge. I do also advertise the most reverend fathers, the Eastern missionaries, that I have, purely for their sakes, made use of such words and phrases as will best admit an easy turn into any of the oriental languages, especially the Chinese. And so I proceed with great content of mind, upon reflecting how much emolument this whole globe of the earth is likely to reap by my labours.

The first undertaking of lord Peter was, to purchase a large continent, lately said to have been discovered in terra australis incognita.【14】 This tract of land he bought at a very great pennyworth from the discoverers themselves (though some pretended to doubt whether they had ever been there), and then retailed it into several cantons to certain dealers, who carried over colonies, but were all shipwrecked in the voyage. Upon which lord Peter sold the said continent to other customers again, and again, and again, and again, with the same success.

The second project I shall mention was his sovereign remedy for the worms, especially those in the spleen.【15】The patient was to eat nothing after supper for three nights: as soon as he went to bed he was carefully to lie on one side, and when he grew weary to turn upon the other; he must also duly confine his two eyes to the same object; and by no means break wind at both ends together without manifest occasion. These prescriptions diligently observed, the worms would void insensibly by perspiration, ascending through the brain.

A third invention was the erecting of a whispering-office【16】 for the public good and ease of all such as are hypochondriacal or troubled with the colic; as likewise of all eavesdroppers, physicians, midwives, small politicians, friends fallen out, repeating poets, lovers happy or in despair, bawds, privy-counsellors, pages, parasites, and buffoons; in short, of all such as are in danger of bursting with too much wind. An ass's head was placed so conveniently that the party affected might easily with his mouth accost either of the animal's ears; to which he was to apply close for a certain space, and by a fugitive faculty, peculiar to the ears of that animal, receive im-mediate benefit, either by eructation, or expiration, or evomitation.

Another very beneficial project of lord Peter's was, an office of insurance【17】 for tobacco-pipes, martyrs of the modern zeal, volumes of poetry, shadows, —, and rivers; that these, nor any of these, shall receive damage by fire. Whence our friendly societies may plainly find themselves to be only transcribers from this original; though the one and the other have been of great benefit to the undertakers, as well as of equal to the public.

Lord PETER was also held the original author of puppets and raree-shows; the great usefulness whereof being so generally known, I shall not enlarge farther upon this particular.

But another discovery, for which he was much renowned, was his famous universal pickle.【18】 For, having remarked how your common pickle in use among housewives was of no farther benefit than to preserve dead flesh and certain kinds of vegetables, Peter, with great cost as well as art, had contrived a pickle proper for houses, gardens, towns, men, women, children, and cattle; wherein he could preserve them as sound as insects in amber. Now, this pickle, to the taste, the smell, and the sight, appeared exactly the same with what is in common service for beef, and butter, and herrings, and has been often that way applied with great success; but, for its many sovereign virtues, was a quite different thing. For Peter would put in a certain quantity of his powder pimperlimpimp, after which it never failed of success. The operation was performed by spargefaction, in a proper time of the moon. The patient who was to be pickled, if it were a house, would infallibly be preserved from all spiders, rats, and weasels; if the party affected were a dog, he should be exempt from mange, and madness, and hunger. It also infallibly took away all scabs, and lice, and scalled heads from children, never hindering the patient from any duty, either at bed or board.

But of all Peter's rarities he most valued a certain set of bulls, whose race was by great fortune preserved in a lineal descent from those that guarded the golden fleece. Though some, who pretended to observe them curiously, doubted the breed had not been kept entirely chaste, because they had degenerated from their ancestors in some qualities, and had acquired others very extraordinary, by a foreign mixture. The bulls of Colchis are recorded to have brazen feet; but whether it happened by ill pasture and running, by an allay from intervention of other parents, from stolen intrigues; whether a weakness in their progenitors had impaired the seminal virtue, or by a decline necessary through a long course of time, the originals of nature being depraved in these latter sinful ages of the world; whatever was the cause, it is certain that lord Peter's bulls were extremely vitiated by the rust of time in the metal of their feet, which was now sunk into common lead. However, the terrible roaring peculiar to their lineage was preserved; as likewise that faculty of breathing out fire from their nostrils, which, notwithstanding, many of their detractors took to be a feat of art, to be nothing so terrible as it appeared, proceeding only from their usual course of diet, which was of squibs and crackers. However, they had two peculiar marks, which extremely distinguished them from the bulls of Jason, and which I have not met together in the description of any other monster beside that in Horace:

Varias inducere plumas;

and

Atrum desinat in piscem.【19】

For these had fishes' tails, yet upon occasion could outfly any bird in the air. Peter put these bulls upon several employs. Sometimes he would set them a-roaring to fright naughty boys, and make them quiet. Sometimes he would send them out upon errands of great importance; where, it is wonderful to recount (and perhaps the cautious reader may think much to believe it), an appetitus sensibilis deriving itself through the whole family from their noble ancestors, guardians of the golden fleece, they continued so extremely fond of gold, that if Peter sent them abroad, though it were only upon a compliment, they would roar, and spit, and belch, and piss, and fart, and snivel out fire, and keep a perpetual coil, till you flung them a bit of gold; but then, pulveris exigui jactu, they would grow calm and quiet as lambs. In short, whether by secret connivance or encouragement from their master, or out of their own liquorish affection to gold, or both, it is certain they were no better than a sort of sturdy, swaggering beggars; and where they could not prevail to get an alms, would make women miscarry, and children fall into fits, who to this very day usually call sprights and hobgoblins by the name of bull-beggars. They grew at last so very troublesome to the neighbourhood, that some gentlemen of the north-west got a parcel of right English bull-dogs, and baited them so terribly that they felt it ever after.

I must needs mention one more of lord Peter's projects, which was very extraordinary, and discovered him to be master of a high reach and profound invention. Whenever it happened that any rogue of Newgate was condemned to be hanged, Peter would offer him a pardon for a certain sum of money; which, when the poor caitiff had made all shifts to scrape up and send, his lordship would return a piece of paper in this form: —

'To all mayors, sheriffs, jailors, constables, bailiffs, hangmen, etc. Whereas we are informed that A. B. remains in the hands of you, or some of you, under the sentence of death. We will and command you, upon sight hereof, to let the said prisoner depart to his own habitation, whether he stands condemned for murder, sodomy, rape, sacrilege, incest, treason, blasphemy, etc., for which this shall be your sufficient warrant; and if you fail hereof, G— d—mn you and yours to all eternity. And so we bid you heartily farewell.

Your most humble

Man's man,

Emperor PETER.'

The wretches, trusting to this, lost their lives and money too.

I desire of those whom the learned among posterity will appoint for commentators upon this elaborate treatise, that they will proceed with great caution upon certain dark points, wherein all who are not vere adepti may be in danger to form rash and hasty conclusions, especially in some mysterious paragraphs, where certain arcana are joined for brevity sake, which in the operation must be divided. And I am certain that future sons of art will return large thanks to my memory for so grateful, so useful an innuendo.

It will be no difficult part to persuade the reader that so many worthy discoveries met with great success in the world; though I may justly assure him that I have related much the smallest number; my design having been only to single out such as will be of most benefit for public imitation, or which best served to give some idea of the reach and wit of the inventor. And therefore it need not be wondered at if by this time lord Peter was become exceeding rich: but, alas! he bad kept his brain so long and so violently upon the rack, that at last it shook itself, and began to turn round for a little ease. In short, what with pride, projects, and knavery, poor Peter was grown distracted, and conceived the strangest imaginations in the world. In the height of his fits, as it is usual with those who run mad out of pride, he would call himself God Almighty, and sometimes monarch of the universe. I have seen him (says my author) take three old high-crowned hats, and clap them all on his head three storey high, with a huge bunch of keys at his girdle, and an angling-rod in his hand. In which guise, whoever went to take him by the hand in the way of salutation, Peter with much grace, like a well-educated spaniel, would present them with his foot, and if they refused his civility, then he would raise it as high as their chaps, and give them a damned kick on the mouth, which has ever since been called a salute. Whoever walked by without paying him their compliments, having a wonderful strong breath, he would blow their hats off into the dirt. Meantime his affairs at home went upside down, and his two brothers had a wretched time; where his first boutade was to kick both their wives one morning out of doors, and his own too; and in their stead gave orders to pick up the first three strollers that could be met with in the streets. A while after he nailed up the cellar-door, and would not allow his brothers a drop of drink to their victuals. Dining one day at an alderman's in the city, Peter observed him expatiating, after the manner of his brethren, in the praises of his sirloin of beef. 'Beef,' said the sage magistrate, 'is the king of meat; beef comprehends in it the quintessence of partridge, and quail, and vension, and pheasant, and plum-pudding, and custard.' When Peter came home he would needs take the fancy of cooking up this doctrine into use, and apply the precept, in default of a sirloin, to his brown loaf. 'Bread,' says he, 'dear brothers, is the staff of life; in which bread is contained, inclusive, the quintessence of beef, mutton, veal, vension, partridge, plum-pudding, and custard; and, to render all complete, there is intermingled a due quantity of water, whose crudities are also corrected by yeast or barm, through which means it becomes a wholesome fermented liquor, diffused through the mass of the bread.' Upon the strength of these conclusions, next day at dinner was the brown loaf served up in all the formality of a city feast. 'Come, brothers,' said Peter, 'fall to, and spare not; here is excellent good mutton; or hold, now my hand is in, I will help you.' At which word, in much ceremony, with fork and knife, he carves out two good slices of a loaf, and presents each on a plate to his brothers. The elder of the two, not suddenly entering into lord Peter's conceit, began with very civil language to examine the mystery. 'My lord,' said he, 'I doubt, with great submission, there may be some mistake.' — 'What,' says Peter, 'you are pleasant; come then, let us hear this jest your head is so big with.' — 'None in the world, my lord; but, unless I am very much deceived, your lordship was pleased a while ago to let fall a word about mutton, and I would be glad to see it with all my heart.' —'How,' said Peter, appearing in great surprise, 'I do not comprehend this at all.' Upon which the younger interposing to set the business aright, 'My lord,' said he, 'my brother, I suppose, is hungry, and longs for the mutton your lordship has promised us to dinner.' — 'Pray,' said Peter, 'take me along with you; either you are both made, or disposed to be merrier than I approve of; if you there do not like your piece I will carve you another; though I should take that to be the choice bit of the whole shoulder.' — 'What then, my lord,' replied the first, 'it seems this is a shoulder of mutton all this while?' — 'Pray, sir,' says Peter, 'eat your victuals, and leave off your impertinence, if you please, for I am not disposed to relish it at present': but the other could not forbear, being over-provoked at the affected seriousness of Peter's countenance: 'By G—, my lord,' said he, 'I can only say, that to my eyes, and fingers, and teeth, and nose, it seems to be nothing but a crust of bread.' Upon which the second put in his word: 'I never saw a piece of mutton in my life so nearly resembling a slice from a twelvepenny loaf.' — 'Look ye, gentlemen,' cries Peter, in a rage; 'to convince you what a couple of blind, positive, ignorant, wilful puppies you are, I will use but this plain argument: by G—, it is true, good, natural mutton as any in Leadenhall-market; and G— confound you both eternally if you offer to believe otherwise.' Such a thundering proof as this left no farther room for objection; the two unbelievers began to gather and pocket up their mistake as hastily as they could. 'Why, truly,' said the first, 'upon more mature consideration —' — 'Ay,' says the other, interrupting him, 'now I have thought better on the thing, your lordship seems to have a great deal of reason.' — 'Very well,' said Peter; 'here, boy, fill me a beer-glass of claret; here's to you both with all my heart.' The two brethren, much delighted to see him so readily appeased, returned their most humble thanks, and said they would be glad to pledge his lordship. 'That you shall,' said Peter; 'I am not a person to refuse you anything that is reasonable: wine, moderately taken, is a cordial; here is a glass a-piece for you; it is true natural juice from the grape, none of your damned vintner's brewings.' Having spoke thus, he presented to each of them another large dry crust, bidding them drink it off, and not be bashful, for it would do them no hurt. The two brothers, after having performed the usual office in such delicate conjunctures, of staring a sufficient period at lord Peter and each other, and finding how matters were likely to go, resolved not to enter on a new dispute, but let him carry the point as he pleased; for he was now got into one of his mad fits, and to argue or expostulate farther would only serve to render him a hundred times more untractable.

I have chosen to relate this worthy matter in all its circumstances, because it gave a principal occasion to that great and famous rupture which happened about the same time among these brethren, and was never afterwards made up. But of that I shall treat at large in another section.

However, it is certain that lord Peter, even un his lucid intervals, was very lewdly given in his common conversation, extremely wilful and positive, and would at any time rather argue to the death than allow himself once to be in an error. Besides, he had an abominable faculty of telling huge palpable lies upon all occasions; and not only swearing to the truth, but cursing the whole company to hell if they pretended to make the least scruple of believing him. One time he swore he had a cow at home which gave as much milk at a meal as would fill three thousand churches; and, what was yet more extraordinary, would never turn sour. Another time he was telling of an old sign-post, that belonged to his father, with nails and timber enough in it to build sixteen large men of war. Talking one day of Chinese waggons, which were made so light as to sail over mountains, 'Z—ds,' said Peter, 'where's the wonder of that? By G—, I saw a large house of lime and stone travel over sea and land (granting that it stopped sometimes to bait) above two thousand German leagues.' And that which was the good of it, he would swear desperately all the while that he never told a lie in his life; and at every word, 'By G—, gentlemen, I tell you nothing but the truth: and the d — I broil them eternally that will not believe me.'

In short, Peter grew so scandalous, that all the neighbourhood began in plain words to say he was no better than a knave. And his two brothers, long weary of his illusage, resolved at last to leave him; but first they humbly desired a copy of their father's will, which had now lain by neglected time out of mind. Instead of granting this request he called them damned sons of whores, rogues, traitors, and the rest of the vile names he could muster up. However, while he was abroad one day upon his projects, the youngsters watched their opportunity, made a shift to come at the will, and took a copia vera by which they presently saw how grossly they had been abused; their father having left them equal heirs, and strictly commanded that whatever they got should lie in common among them all. Pursuant to which their next enterprise was to break open the cellar-door, and get a little good drink, to spirit and comfort their hearts. In copying the will they had met another precept against whoring, divorce, and separate maintenance; upon which their next work was to discard their concubines, and send for their wives. While all this was in agitation there enters a solicitor from Newgate, desiring lord Peter would please procure a pardon for a thief that was to be hanged tomorrow. But the two brothers told him he was a coxcomb to seek pardons from a fellow who deserved to be hanged much better than his client; and discovered all the method of that imposture in the same form I delivered it a while ago, advising the solicitor to put his friend upon obtaining a pardon from the king. In the midst of all this clutter and revolution, in comes Peter with a file of dragoons at his heels, and gathering from all hands what was in the wind, he and his gang, after several millions of scurrilities and curses, not very important here to repeat, by main force very fairly kicked them both out of doors, and would never let them come under his roof from that day to this.

Section V
A DIGRESSION IN THE MODERN KIND

We, whom the world is pleased to honour with the title of modern authors, should never have been able to compass our gteat design of an everlasting remembrance and never-dying fame, if our endeavours had not been so highly serviceable to the general good of mankind. This, O universe! is the adventurous attempt of me thy secretary;

— Quemvis perferre laborem

Suadet, et inducit noctes vigilare serenas.【20】

To this end have some time since, with a world of pains and art, dissected the carcase of human nature, and read many useful lectures upon the several parts, both containing and contained: till at last it smelt so strong I could preserve it no longer. Upon which I have been at a great expense to fit up all the bones with exact contexture and in due symmetry; so that I am ready to show a very complete anatomy thereof to all curious gentlemen and others. But not to digress farther in the midst of a digression, as I have known some authors enclose digressions in one another like a nest of boxes, I do affirm that, having carefully cut up human nature, I have found a very strange, new, and important discovery, that the public good of mankind is performed by two ways, instruction and diversion. And I have farther proved, in my said several readings (which perhaps the world may one day see, if I can prevail on any friend to steal a copy, or on certain gentlemen of my admirers to be very importunate), that as mankind is now disposed, he receives much greater advantage by being diverted than instructed: his epidemical diseases being fastidiosity, amorphy, and oscitation; whereas in the present universal empire of wit and learning, there seems but little matter left for instruction. However, in compliance with a lesson of great age and authority, I have attempted carrying the point in all its heights; and accordingly, throughout this divine treatise, have skilfully kneaded up both together, with a layer of utile and a layer of dulce.

When I consider how exceedingly our illustrious modems have eclipsed the weak glimmering lights of the ancients, and turned them out of the road of all fashionable commerce, to a degree that our choice town wits, of most refined accomplishments, are in grave dispute whether there have been ever any ancients or not; in which point we are likely to receive wonderful satisfaction from the most useful labours and lucubrations of that worthy modem, Dr Bentley: I say, when I consider all this, I cannot but bewail that no famous modern has ever yet attempted a universal system, in a small portable volume, of all things that are to be known, or believed, or imagined, or practised in life. I am, however, forced to acknowledge, that such an enterprise was thought or some time ago by a great philosopher of O. Brazile. The method he proposed was, by a certain curious receipt, a nostrum, which, after his untimely death, I found among his papers; and do here, out of my great affection to the modern learned, present them with it, not doubting it may one day encourage some worthy undertaker.

You take fair correct copies, well bound in calf-skin and lettered at the back, of all modern bodies of arts and sciences whatsoever, and in what language you please. These you distil in balneo Mariae, infusing quintessence of poppy Q. S., together with three pints of Lethe, to be had from the apothecaries. You cleanse away carefully the sordes and caput mortuum, letting all that is volatile evaporate. You preserve only the first running, which is again to be distilled seventeen times, till what remains will amount to about two drachms. This you keep in a glass phial, hermetically sealed, for one-and-twenty days. Then you begin your catholic treatise, taking every morning fasting, first shaking the phial, three drops of this elixir, snuffing it strongly up your nose. It will dilate itself about the brain (where there is any) in fourteen minutes, and you immediately perceive in your head an infinite number of abstracts, summaries, compendiums, extracts, collections, medullas, excerpta quaedams, florilegias, and the like, all disposed into great order, and reducible upon paper.

I must needs own it was by the assistance of this arcanum that I, though otherwise impar, have adventured upon so daring an attempt, never achieved or undertaken before, but by a certain author called Homer; in whom, though otherwise a person not without some abilities, and, for an ancient, of a tolerable genius, I have discovered many gross errors which are not to be forgiven his very ashes, if by chance any of them are left. For whereas we are assured he designed his work for a complete body of all knowledge, human, divine, political, and mechanic, it is manifest he has wholly neglected some, and been very imperfect in the rest. For first of all, as eminent a cabalist as his disciples would represent him, his account of the opus magnum is extremely poor and deficient; he seems to have read but very superficially either Sendivogus, Behmen, or Anthroposophia Theomagica. He is also quite mistaken about the sphaera pyroplastica, a neglect not to be atoned for; and if the reader will admit so severe a censure, vix crederem autorem hunc unquam audivisse ignis vocem.【21】 His failings are not less prominent in several parts of the mechanics. For, having read his writings with the utmost application usual among modern wits, I could never yet discover the least direction about the structure of that useful instrument, a save-all; for want of which, if the moderns had not lent their assistance, we might yet have wandered in the dark. But I have still behind a fault far more notorious to tax this author with; I mean his gross ignorance in the common laws of this realm, and in the doctrine as well as discipline of the church of England. A defect indeed, for which both he and all the ancients stand most justly censured by my worthy and ingenious friend Mr Wotton, Bachelor of Divinity, in his incomparable Treatise of Ancient and Modern Learning: a book never to be sufficiently valued, whether we consider the happy turns and flowings of the author's wit, the great usefulness of his sublime discoveries upon the subject of flies and spittle, or the laborious eloquence of his style. And I cannot forbear doing that author the justice of my public acknowledgments for the great helps and liftings I had out of his incomparable piece, while I was penning this treatise.

But beside these omissions in Homer already mentioned, the curious reader will also observe several defects in that author's writings, for which he is not altogether so accountable. For whereas every branch of knowledge has received such wonderful acquirements since his age, especially within these last three years, or thereabouts, it is almost impossible he could be so very perfect in modern discoveries as his advocates pretend. We freely acknowledge him to be the inventor of the compass, of gunpowder, and the circulation of the blood: but I challenge any of his admirers to show me in all his writings a complete account of the spleen: does he not also leave us wholly to seek in the art of political wagering? What can be more defective and unsatisfactory than his long dissertation upon tea? And as to his method of salivation without mercury so much celebrated of late, it is, to my own knowledge and experience, a thing very little to be relied on.

It was to supply such momentous defects that I have been prevailed on, after long solicitation, to take pen in hand; and I dare venture to promise, the judicious reader shall find nothing neglected here that can be of use upon any emergency of life. I am confident to have included and exhausted all that human imagination can rise or fall to. Particularly, I recommend to the perusal of the learned certain discoveries that are wholly untouched by others; whereof I shall only mention, among a great many more, my new help for smatterers, or the art of being deep-learned and shallow-read. A curious invention about mouse-traps. A universal rule of reason, or every man his own carver; together with a most useful engine for catching of owls. All which, the judicious reader will find largely treated on in the several parts of this discourse.

I hold myself obliged to give as much light as is possible into the beauties and excellencies of what I am writing; because it is become the fashion and humour most applauded among the authors of this polite and learned age, when they would correct the ill-nature of critical, or inform the ignorance of courteous readers. Besides, there have been several famous pieces lately published, both in verse and prose, wherein, if the writers had not been pleased, out of their great humanity and affection to the public, to give us a nice detail of the sublime and the admirable they contain, it is a thousand to one whether we should ever have discovered one grain of either. For my own particular, I cannot deny that whatever I have said upon this occasion had been more proper in a preface, and more agreeable to the mode which usually directs it thither. But I here think fit to lay hold on that great and honourable privilege of being the last writer: I claim an absolute authority in right, as the freshest modem, which gives me a despotic power over all authors before me. In the strength of which title I do utterly disapprove and declare against that pernicious custom of making the preface a bill of fare to the book. For I have always looked upon it as a high point of indiscretion in monster-mongers, and other retailers of strange sights, to hang out a fair large picture over the door, drawn after the life, with a most eloquent description underneath: this has saved me many a three-pence; for my curiosity was fully satisfied, and I never offered to go in, though often invited by the urging and attending orator, with his last moving and standing piece of rhetoric: — Sir, upon my word we are just going to begin. Such is exactly the fate at this time of prefaces, epistles, advertisements, introduction, prolegomenas, apparatuses, to the readers. This expedient was admirable at first; our great Dryden has long carried it as far as it would go, and with incredible success. He has often said to me in confidence, that the world would have never suspected him to be so great a poet, if he had not assured them so frequently in his prefaces that it was impossible they could either doubt or forget it. Perhaps it may be so; however, I much fear his instructions have edified out of their place, and taught men to grow wiser in certain points where he never intended they should; for it is lamentable to behold with what a lazy scorn many of the yearning readers of our age do now-a-days twirl over forty or fifty pages of preface and dedication (which is the usual modern stint), as if it were so much Latin. Though it must be also allowed, on the other hand, that a very considerable number is known to proceed critics and wits by reading nothing else. Into which two factions I think all present readers may justly be divided. Now, for myself, I profess to be of the former sort; and therefore, having the modern inclination to expatiate upon the beauty of my own productions, and display the bright parts of my discourse, I thought best to do it in the body of the work; where, as it now lies, it makes a very considerable addition to the bulk of the volume; a circumstance by no means to be neglected by a skilful writer.

Having thus paid my due deference and acknowledgment to an established custom of our newest authors, by a long digression unsought for, and a universal censure unprovoked; by forcing into the light, with much pains and dexterity, my own excellencies and other men's defaults, with great justice to myself and candour to them, I now happily resume my subject, to the infinite satisfaction both of the reader and the author.

Section VI
A TALE OF A TUB

We left lord Peter in open rupture with his two brethren; both for ever discarded from his house, and resigned to the wide world, with little or nothing to trust to. Which are circumstances that render them proper subjects for the charity of a writer's pen to work on; scenes of misery ever affording the fairest harvest for great adventures. And in this the world may perceive the difference between the integrity of a generous author and that of a common friend. The latter is observed to adhere closely in prosperity, but on the decline of fortune to drop suddenly off. Whereas the generous author, just on the contrary, finds his hero on the dunghill, from thence by gradual steps raises him to a throne, and then immediately withdraws, expecting not so much as thanks for his pains; in imitation of which example, I have placed lord Peter in a noble house, given him a title to wear and money to spend. There I shall leave him for some time; returning where common charity directs me, to the assistance of his two brothers at their lowest ebb. However, I shall by no means forget my character of a historian to follow the truth step by step, whatever happens, or wherever it may lead me.

The two exiles, so nearly united in fortune and interest, took a lodging together; where, at their first leisure, they began to reflect on the numberless misfortunes and vexations of their life past, and could not tell on the sudden to what failure in their conduct they ought to impute them; when, after some recollection, they called to mind the copy of their father's will, which they had so happily recovered. This was immediately produced, and a firm resolution taken between them to alter whatever was already amiss, and reduce all their future measures to the strictest obedience prescribed therein. The main body of the will (as the reader cannot easily have forgot) consisted in certain admirable rules about the wearing of their coats; in the perusal whereof, the two brothers at every period duly comparing the doctrine with the practice, there was never seen a wider difference between two things; horrible downright transgressions of every point. Upon which they both resolved, without farther delay, to fall immediately upon reducing the whole exactly after their father's model.

But here it is good to stop the hasty reader, ever impatient to see the end of an adventure before we writers can duly prepare him for it. I am to record that these two brothers began to be distinguished at this time by certain names. One of them desired to be called MARTIN, and the other took the appellation of JACK. These two had lived in much friendship and agreement under the tyranny of their brother Peter, as it is the talent of fellow-sufferers to do; men in misfortune being like men in the dark, to whom all colours are the same: but when they came forward into the world, and began to display themselves to each other and to the light, their complexions appeared extremely different; which the present posture of their affairs gave them sudden opportunity to discover.

But here the severe reader may justly tax me as a writer of short memory, a deficiency to which a true modern cannot but of necessity be a little subject. Because memory, being an employment of the mind upon things past, is a faculty for which the learned in our illustrious age have no manner of occasion, who deal entirely with invention, and strike all things out of themselves, or at least by collision from each other: upon which account we think it highly reasonable to produce our great forgetfulness as an argument unanswerable for our great wit. I ought in method to have informed the reader, about fifty pages ago, of a fancy lord Peter took, and infused into his brothers, to wear on their coats whatever trimmings came up in fashion; never pulling off any as they went out of the mode, but keeping on all together, which amounted in time to a medley the most antic you can possibly conceive; and this to a degree, that upon the time of their falling out there was hardly a thread of the original coat to be seen: but an infinite quantity of lace, and ribbons, and fringe, and embroidery, and points; I mean only those tagged with silver, for the rest fell off. Now this material circumstance, having been forgot in due place, as good fortune has ordered, comes in very properly here when the two brothers are just going to reform their vestures into the primitive state prescribed by their father's will.

They both unanimously entered upon this great work, looking sometimes on their coats; and sometimes on the will. Martin laid the first hand; at one twitch brought off a large handful of points; and, with a second pull, stripped away ten dozen yards of fringe. But when he had gone thus far he demurred a while: he knew very well there yet remained a great deal more to be done; however, the first heat being over, his violence began to cool, and he resolved to proceed more moderately in the rest of the work, having already narrowly escaped a swinging rent, in pulling of the points, which, being tagged with silver (as we have observed before), the judicious workman had, with much sagacity, double sewn, to preserve them from falling. Resolving, therefore, to rid his coat of a huge quantity of gold-lace, he picked up the stitches with much caution, and diligently gleaned out all the loose threads as he went, which proved to be a work of time. Then he fell about the embroidered Indian figures of men, women, and children; against which, as you have heard in its due place, their father's testament was extremely exact and severe; these, with much dexterity and application, were, after a while, quite eradicated or utterly defaced. For the rest, where he observed the embroidery to be worked so close as not to be got away without damaging the cloth, or where it served to hide or strengthen any flaw in the body of the coat, contracted by the perpetual tampering of workmen upon it, he concluded the wisest course was to let it remain, resolving in no case whatsoever that the substance of the stuff should suffer injury; which he thought the best method for serving the true intent and meaning of his father's will. And this is the nearest account I have been able to collect of Martin's proceedings upon this great revolution.

But his brother Jack, whose adventures will be so extraordinary as to furnish a great part in the remainder of this discourse, entered upon the matter with other thoughts and a quite different spirit. For the memory of lord Peter's injuries produced a degree of hatred and spite which had a much greater share of inciting him than any regards after his father's commands; since these appeared, at best, only secondary and subservient to the other. However, for this medley of humour he made a shift to find a plausible name, honouring it with the title of zeal; which is perhaps the most significant word that has been ever yet produced in any language: as I think I have fully proved in my excellent analytical discourse upon that subject; wherein I have deduced a histori-theophysi-logical account of zeal, showing how it first proceeded from a notion into a word, and thence, in a hot summer, ripened into a tangible substance. This work, containing three large volumes in folio, I design very shortly to publish by the modem way of subscription, not doubting but the nobility and gentry of the land will give me all possible encouragement; having had already such a taste of what I am able to perform.

I record, therefore, that brother Jack, brimful of this miraculous compound, reflecting with indignation upon Peter's tyranny, and, farther provoked by the despondency of Martin, prefaced his resolutions to this purpose. 'What,' said he, 'a rogue that locked up his drink, turned away our wives, cheated us of our fortunes; palmed his damned crusts upon us for mutton; and at last kicked us out of doors; must we be in his fashions, with a pox! a rascal, besides, that all the street cries out against.' Having thus kindled and inflamed himself as high as possible, and by consequence in a delicate temper for beginning a reformation, he set about the work immediately; and in three minutes made more despatch than Martin had done in as many hours. For, courteous reader, you are given to understand that zeal is never so highly obliged as when you set it a-tearing; and Jack, who doted on that quality in himself, allowed it at this time its full swing. Thus it happened that, stripping down a parcel of gold lace a little too hastily, he rent the main body of his coat from top to bottom; and whereas his talent was not of the happiest in taking up a stitch, he knew no better way than to dam it again with packthread and a skewer. But the matter was yet infinitely worse (I record it with tears) when he proceeded to the embroidery: for, being clumsy by nature, and of temper impatient; withal, beholding millions of stitches that required the nicest hand and sedatest constitution to extricate; in a great rage he tore off the whole piece, cloth and all, and flung it into the kennel, and furiously thus continued his career: 'Ah, good brother Martin,' said he, 'do as I do, for the love of God; strip, tear, pull, rend, flay off all, that we may appear as unlike that rogue Peter as it is possible; I would not for a hundred pounds carry the least mark about me that might give occasion to the neighbours of suspecting that I was related to such a rascal.' But Martin, who at this time happened to be extremely phlegmatic and sedate, begged his brother, of all love, not to damage his coat by any means; for he never would get such another: desired him to consider that it was not their business to form their actions by any reflection upon Peter, but by observing the rules prescribed in their father's will. That he should remember Peter was still their brother, whatever faults or injuries he had committed; and therefore they should by all means avoid such a thought as that of taking measures for good and evil from no other rule than of opposition to him. That it was true, the testament of their good father was very exact in what related to the wearing of their coats: yet it was no less penal and strict in prescribing agreement, and friendship, and affection between them. And therefore, if straining a point were at all dispensable, it would certainly be so rather to the advance of unity than increase of contradiction.

MARTIN had still proceeded as gravely as he began, and doubtless would have delivered an admirable lecture of morality, which might have exceedingly contributed to my reader's repose both of body and mind, the true ultimate end of ethics; but Jack was already gone a flight-shot beyond his patience. And as in scholastic disputes nothing serves to rouse the spleen of him that opposes so much as a kind of pedantic affected calmness in the respondent; disputants being for the most part like unequal scales, where the gravity of one side advances the lightness of the other, and causes it to fly up and kick the beam; so it happened here that the weight of Martin's argument exalted Jack's levity, and made him fly out, and spurn against his brother's moderation. In short, Martin's patience put Jack in a rage; but that which most afflicted him was, to observe his brother's coat so well reduced into the state of innocence; while his own was either wholly rent to his shirt, or those places which had escaped his cruel clutches were still in Peter's livery. So that he looked like a drunken beau, half rifled by bullies; or like a fresh tenant of Newgate, when he has refused the payment of garnish; or like a discovered shoplifter, left to the mercy of Exchange women; or like a bawd in her old velvet petticoat, resigned into the secular hands of the mobile. Like any, or like all of these, a medley of rags, and lace, and rents, and fringes, unfortunate Jack did now appear: he would have been extremely glad to see his coat in the condition of Martin's, but infinitely gladder to find that of Martin in the same predicament with his. However, since neither of these was likely to come to pass, he thought fit to lend the whole business another turn, and to dress up necessity into a virtue. Therefore, after as many of the fox's arguments as he could muster up, for bringing Martin to reason, as he called it; or, as he meant it, into his own ragged, bobtailed condition; and observing he said all to little purpose; what, alas! was left for the forlorn Jack to do, but, after a million of scurrilities against his brother, to run mad with spleen, and spite, and contradiction. To be short, here began a mortal breach between these two. Jack went immediately to new lodgings, and in a few days it was for certain reported that he had run out of his wits. In a short time after he appeared abroad, and confirmed the report by falling into the oddest whimseys that ever a sick brain conceived.

And now the little boys in the streets began to salute him with several names. Sometimes they would call him Jack the bald, sometimes, Jack with a lantern; sometimes, Dutch Jack; sometimes, French Hugh; sometimes, Tom the beggar; and sometimes, Knocking Jack of the North. And it was under one, or some, or all of these appellations, which I leave the learned reader to determine, that he has given rise to the most illustrious and epidemic sect of Aeolists; who, with honourable commemoration, do still acknowledge the renowned JACK for their author and founder. Of whose original, as well as principles, I am now advancing to gratify the world with a very particular account.

— Melleo contingens cuncta lepore.【22】

Section VII
A DIGRESSION IN PRAISE OF DIGRESSIONS

I have sometimes heard of an Iliad in a nutshell; but it has been my fortune to have much oftener seen a nutshell in an Iliad. There is no doubt that human life has received most wonderful advantages from both; but to which of the two the world is chiefly indebted I shall leave among the curious as a problem worthy of their utmost inquiry. For the invention of the latter I think the commonwealth of learning is chiefly obliged to the great modern improvement of digressions: the late refinements in knowledge running parallel to those of diet in our nation, which, among men of a judicious taste, are dressed up in various compounds, consisting in soups and olios, fricassees and ragouts.

It is true, there is a sort of morose, detracting, ill-bred people, who pretend utterly to disrelish these polite innovations; and as to the similitude from diet, they allow the parallel, but are so bold to pronounce the example itself a corruption and degeneracy of taste. They tell us that the fashion of jumbling fifty things together in a dish was at first introduced, in compliance to a depraved and debauched appetite, as well as to a crazy constitution: and to see a man hunting through an olio, after the head and brains of a goose, a widgeon, or a woodcock, is a sign he wants a stomach and digestion for more substantial victuals. Farther, they affirm that digressions in a book are like foreign troops in a state, which argue the nation to want a heart and hands of its own, and often either subdue the natives, or drive them into the most unfruitful corners.

But, after all that can be objected by these supercilious censors, it is manifest the society of writers would quickly be reduced to a very inconsiderable number if men were put upon making books with the fatal confinement of delivering nothing beyond what is to the purpose. It is acknowledged, that were the case the same among us as with the Greeks and Romans, when learning was in its cradle, to be reared and fed, and clothed by invention, it would be an easy task to fill up volumes upon particular occasions, without farther expatiating from the subjects than by moderate excursions, helping to advance or clear the main design. But with knowledge it has fared as with a numerous army, encamped in a fruitful country, which, for a few days, maintains itself by the product of the soil it is on; till provisions being spent, they are sent to forage many a mile, among friends or enemies, it matters not. Meanwhile, the neighbouring fields, trampled and beaten down, become barren and dry, affording no sustenance but clouds of dust.

The whole course of things being thus entirely changed between us and the ancients, and the moderns wisely sensible of it, we of this age have discovered a shorter and more prudent method to become scholars and wits, without the fatigue of reading or of thinking. The most accomplished way of using books at present is two-fold; either, first, to serve them as some men do lords, learn their titles exactly, and then brag of their acquaintance. Or, secondly, which is indeed the choicer, the profounder, and politer method, to get a thorough insight into the index, by which the whole book is governed and turned, like fishes by the tail. For to enter the palace of learning at the great gate requires an expense of time and forms; therefore men of much haste and little ceremony are content to get in by the back door. For the arts are all in flying march, and therefore more easily subdued by attacking them in the rear. Thus physicians discover the state of the whole body by consulting only what comes from behind. Thus men catch knowledge by throwing their wit into the posteriors of a book, as boys do sparrows with flinging salt upon their tails. Thus human life is best understood by the wise man's rule of regarding the end. Thus are the sciences found, like Hercules's oxen, by tracing them backwards. Thus are old sciences unravelled, like old stockings, by beginning at the foot. Beside all this, the army of the sciences has been of late, with a world of martial discipline, drawn into its close order, so that a view or a muster may be taken of it with abundance of expedition. For this great blessing we are wholly indebted to systems and abstracts, in which the modern fathers of learning, like prudent usurers, spent their sweat for the ease of us their children. For labour is the seed of idleness, and it is the peculiar happiness of our noble age to gather the fruit.

Now, the method of growing wise, learned, and sublime, having become so regular an affair, and so established in all its forms, the number of writers must needs have increased accordingly, and to a pitch that has made it of absolute necessity for them to interfere continually with each other. Besides, it is reckoned that there is not at this present a sufficient quantity of new matter left in nature to furnish and adorn any one particular subject to the extent of a volume. This I am told by a very skilful computer, who has given a full demonstration of it from rules of arithmetic.

This perhaps may be objected against by those who maintain the infinity of matter, and therefore will not allow that any species of it can be exhausted. For answer to which, let us examine the noblest branch of modem wit or invention, planted and cultivated by the present age, and which, of all others, has borne the most and the fairest fruit. For, though some remains of it were left us by the ancients, yet have not any of those, as I remember, been translated or compiled into systems for modern use. Therefore we may affirm, to our own honour, that it has, in some sort, been both invented and brought to perfection by the same hands. What I mean is, that highly celebrated talent among the modem wits of deducing similitudes, allusions, and applications, very surprising, agreeable, and apposite, from the pudenda of either sex, together with their proper uses. And truly, having observed how little invention bears any vogue, beside what is derived into these channels, I have sometimes had a thought that the happy genius of our age and country was prophetically held forth by that ancient typical description of the Indian pigmies, whose stature did not exceed above two foot; sed quorum pudenda crassa, et ad talos usque pertingentia.【23】 Now I have been very curious to inspect the late productions wherein the beauties of this kind have most prominently appeared; and although this vein has bled so freely, and all endeavours have been used in the power of human breath to dilate, extend, and keep it open, like the Scythians, who had a custom, and an instrument, to blow up the privities of their mares, that they might yield the more milk; yet I am under an apprehension it is near growing dry and past all recovery; and that either some new fonde of wit should, if possible, be provided, or else that we must even be content with repetition here, as well as upon all other occasions.

This will stand as an incontestable argument that our modem wits are not to reckon upon the infinity of matter for a constant supply. What remains, therefore, but that our last recourse must be had to large indexes and little compendiums? quotations must be plentifully gathered, and booked in alphabet; to this end, though authors need be little consulted, yet critics, and commentators, and lexicons, carefully must. But above all, those judicious collectors of bright parts, and flowers, and observandas, are to be nicely dwelt on by some called the sieves and boulters of learning; though it is left undetermined whether they dealt in pearls or meal; and, consequently, whether we are more to value that which passed through, or what staid behind.

By these methods, in a few weeks there starts up many a writer capable of managing the profoundest and most universal subjects. For what though his head be empty, provided his commonplace-book be full? and if you will bate him but the circumstances of method, and style, and grammar, and invention; allow him but the common privileges of transcribing from others, and digressing from himself, as often as he shall see occasion; he will desire no more ingredients towards fitting up a treatise that shall make a very comely figure on a bookseller's shelf; there to be preserved neat and clean for a long eternity, adorned with the heraldry of its title fairly inscribed on a label; never to be thumbed or greased by students, nor bound to everlasting chains of darkness in a library: but when the fulness of time is come, shall happily undergo the trial of purgatory, in order to ascend the sky.

Without these allowances, how is it possible we modern wits should ever have an opportunity to introduce our collections, listed under so many thousand heads of a different nature; for want of which the learned world would be deprived of infinite delight, as well as instruction, and we ourselves buried beyond redress in an inglorious and undistinguished oblivion?

From such elements as these I am alive to behold the day wherein the corporation of authors can outvie all its brethren in the guild. A happiness derived to us, with a great many others, from our Scythian ancestors; among whom the number of pens was so infinite, that the Grecian eloquence had no other way of expressing it than by saying that in the regions far to the north it was hardly possible for a man to travel, the very air was so replete with feathers.

The necessity of this digression will easily excuse the length; and I have chosen for it as proper a place as I could readily find. If the judicious reader can assign a fitter, I do here empower him to remove it into any other corner he pleases. And so I return with great alacrity, to pursue a more important concern.

Section VIII
A TALE OF A TUB

The learned Aeolists maintain the original cause of all things to be wind, from which principle this whole universe was at first produced, and into which it must at last be resolved; that the same breath which had kindled and blew up the flame of nature should one day blow it out —

Quod procul a nobis flectat fortuna gubernans.【24】

This is what the adepti understand by their anima mundi; that is to say, the spirit, or breath, or wind of the world; for, examine the whole system by the particulars of nature, and you will find it not to be disputed. For whether you please to call the forma informans of man by the name of spiritus, animus, afflatus, or anima; what are all these but several appellations for wind, which is the ruling element in every compound, and into which they all resolve upon their corruption? Farther, what is life itself but, as it is commonly called, the breath of our nostrils? Whence it is very justly observed by naturalists that wind still continues of great emolument in certain mysteries not to be named, giving occasion for those happy epithets of turgidus and inflatus, applied either to the emittent or recipient organs.

By what I have gathered out of ancient records, I find the compass of their doctrine took in two-and-thirty points, wherein it would be tedious to be very particular. However, a few of their most important precepts, deducible from it, are by no means to be omitted; among which the following maxim was of much weight; that since wind had the master share, as well as operation, in every compound, by consequence, those beings must be of chief excellence wherein that primordium appears most prominently to abound; and therefore man is in the highest perfection of all created things, as having, by the great bounty of philosophers, been endued with three distinct animas or winds, to which the sage Aeolists, with much liberality, have added a fourth, of equal necessity as well as ornament with the other three; by this quartum principium taking in the four corners of the world; which gave occasion to that renowned cabalist, Bumbastus, of placing the body of a man in due position to the four cardinal points.

In consequence of this, their next principle was, that man brings with him into the world a peculiar portion or grain of wind, which may be called a quinta essentia, extracted from the other four. This quintessence is of a catholic use upon all emergencies of life, is improvable into all arts and sciences, and may be wonderfully refined, as well as enlarged, by certain methods in education. This, when blown up to its perfection, ought not to be covetously hoarded up, stifled, or hid under a bushel, but freely communicated to mankind. Upon these reasons, and others of equal weight, the wise Aeolists affirm the gift of belching to be the noblest act of a rational creature. To cultivate which art, and render it more serviceable to mankind, they made use of several methods. At certain seasons of the year you might behold the priests among them, in vast numbers, with their mouths gaping wide against a storm. At other times were to be seen several hundreds linked together in a circular chain, with every man a pair of bellows applied to his neighbour's breech, by which they blew up each other to the shape and size of a tun; and for that reason, with great propriety of speech, did usually call their bodies their vessels. When, by these and the like performances, they were grown sufficiently replete, they would immediately depart, and disembogue, for the public good, a plentiful share of their acquirements into their disciples' chaps. For we must here observe that all learning was esteemed among them to be compounded from the same principle. Because, first, it is generally affirmed, or confessed, that learning puffeth men up: and, secondly, they proved it by the following syllogism: Words are but wind; and learning is nothing but words; ergo, learning is nothing but wind. For this reason, the philosophers among them did, in their schools, deliver to their pupils all their doctrines and opinions by eructation, wherein they had acquired a wonderful eloquence, and of incredible variety. But the great characteristic by which their chief sages were best distinguished was a certain position of countenance, which gave undoubted intelligence to what degree or proportion the spirit agitated the inward mass. For, after certain gripings, the wind and vapours issuing forth, having first, by their turbulence and convulsions within, caused an earthquake in man's little world, distorted the mouth, bloated the cheeks, and given the eyes a terrible kind of relievo; at such junctures all their belches were received for sacred, the sourer the better, and swallowed with infinite consolation by their meagre devotees. And, to render these yet more complete, because the breath of man's life is in his nostrils, therefore the choicest, most edifying, and most enlivening belches, were very wisely conveyed through that vehicle, to give them a tincture as they passed.

Their gods were the four winds, whom they worshipped as the spirits that pervade and enliven the universe, and as those from whom alone all inspiration can properly be said to proceed. However, the chief of these, to whom they performed the adoration of latria, was the almighty North, an ancient deity, whom the inhabitants of Megalopolis, in Greece, had likewise in the highest reverence: omnium deorum Boream maxime celebrant. This god, though endued with ubiquity, was yet supposed, by the profounder Aeolists, to possess one peculiar habitation, or (to speak in form) a coelum empyraeum, wherein he was more intimately present. This was situated in a certain region, well known to the ancient Greeks, by them called Σμοτα, or the land of darkness. And although many controversies have arisen upon that matter, yet so much is undisputed, that from a region of the like denomination the most refined Aeolists have borrowed their original; whence, in every age, the zealous among their priesthood have brought over their choicest inspiration, fetching it with their own hands from the fountain-head in certain bladders, and disploding it among the sectaries in all nations, who did, and do, and ever will, daily gasp and pant after it.

Now, their mysteries and rites were performed in this manner. It is well known among the learned that the virtuosoes of former ages had a contrivance for carrying and preserving winds in casks or barrels, which was of great assistance upon long sea-voyages: and the loss of so useful an art at present is very much to be lamented; although, I know not how, with great negligence omitted by Pancirolus. It was an invention ascribed to Aeolus himself, from whom this sect is denominated; and who, in honour of their founder's memory, have to this day preserved great numbers of those barrels, whereof they fix one in each of their temples, first beating out the top; into this barrel, upon solemn days, the priest enters; where, having before duly prepared himself by the methods already described, a secret funnel is also conveyed from his posteriors to the bottom of the barrel which admits new supplies of inspiration from a northern chink or cranny. Whereupon, you behold him swell immediately to the shape and size of his vessel. In this posture he disembogues whole tempests upon his auditory, as the spirit from beneath gives him utterance; which, issuing ex adytis et penetralibus, is not performed without much pain and gripings. And the wind, in breaking forth, deals with his face as it does with that of the sea, first blackening, then wrinkling, and at last bursting it into a foam. It is in this guise the sacred Aeolist delivers his oracular belches to his panting disciples; of whom, some are greedily gaping after the sanctified breath; others are all the while hymning out the praises of the winds; and, gently wafted to and fro by their own humming, do thus represent the soft breezes of their deities appeased.

It is from this custom of the priests that some authors maintain these Aeolists to have been very ancient in the world. Because the delivery of their mysteries, which I have just now mentioned, appears exactly the same with that of other ancient oracles, whose inspirations were owing to certain subterraneous effluviums of wind, delivered with the same pain to the priest, and much about the same influence on the people. It is true, indeed, that these were frequently managed and directed by female officers, whose organs were understood to be better disposed for the admission of those oracular gusts, as entering and passing up through a receptacle of greater capacity, and causing also a pruriency by the way, such as, with due management, hath been refined from carnal into a spiritual ecstacy. And, to strengthen this profound conjecture, it is farther insisted, that this custom of female priests is kept up still in certain refined colleges of our modern Aeolists, who are agreed to receive their inspiration, derived through the receptacle aforesaid, like their ancestors the sibyls.

And whereas the mind of a man, when he gives the spur and bridle to his thoughts, does never stop, but naturally sallies out into both extremes, of high and low, of good and evil; his first flight of fancy commonly transports him to ideas of what is most perfect, finished, and exalted; till, having soared out of his own reach and sight, not well perceiving how near the frontiers of height and depth border upon each other; with the same course and wing he falls down plumb into the lowest bottom of things; like one who travels the east into the west; or like a straight line drawn by its own length into a circle. Whether a tincture of malice in our natures makes us fond of furnishing every bright idea with its reverse; or whether reason, reflecting upon the sum of things, can, like the sun, serve only to enlighten one-half of the globe, leaving the other half by necessity under shade and darkness; or whether fancy, flying up to the imagination of what is highest and best, becomes overshot, and spent, and weary, and suddenly falls, like a dead bird of paradise, to the ground; or whether, after all these metaphysical conjectures, I have not entirely missed the true reason; the proposition, however, which has stood me in so much circumstance, is altogether true; that as the most uncivilised parts of mankind have some way or other climbed up into the conception of a god or supreme power, so they have seldom forgot to provide their fears with certain ghastly notions, which, instead of better, have served them pretty tolerably for a devil. And this proceeding seems to be natural enough; for it is with men, whose imaginations are lifted up very high, after the same rate as with those whose bodies are so; that, as they are delighted with the advantage of a nearer contemplation upwards, so they are equally terrified with the dismal prospect of a precipice below. Thus, in the choice of a devil it has been the usual method of mankind to single out some being, either in act or in vision, which was in most antipathy to the god they had framed. Thus also the sect of Aeolists possessed themselves with a dread and horror and hatred of two malignant natures, betwixt whom and the deities they adored perpetual enmity was established. The first of these was the chameleon, sworn foe to inspiration, who in scorn devoured large influences of their god, without refunding the smallest blast by eructation. The other was a huge terrible monster, called Moulinavent, who, with four strong arms, waged eternal battle with all their divinities, dexterously turning to avoid their blows, and repay them with interest.

Thus furnished and set out with gods, as well as devils, was the renowned sect of Aeolists, which makes at this day so illustrious a figure in the world, and whereof that polite nation of Lalpanders are, beyond all doubt, a most authentic branch; of whom I therefore cannot, without injustice, here omit to make honourable mention; since they appear to be so closely allied in point of interest, as well as inclinations, with their brother Aeolists among us, as not only to buy their winds by wholesale from the same merchants, but also to retail them after the same rate and method, and to customers much alike.

Now, whether this system here delivered was wholly compiled by Jack, or, as some writers believe, rather copied, from the original at Delphos, with certain additions and emendations, suited to the times and circumstances, I shall not absolutely determine. This I may affirm, that Jack gave it at least a new turn, and formed it into the same dress and model as it lies deduced by me.

I have long sought after this opportunity of doing justice to a society of men for whom I have a peculiar honour, and whose opinions, as well as practices, have been extremely misrepresented and traduced by the malice or ignorance of their adversaries. For I think it one of the greatest and best of human actions to remove prejudices, and place things in their truest and fairest light, which I therefore boldly undertake, without any regards of my own, beside the conscience, the honour, and the thanks.

Section IX
A DIGRESSION CONCERNING THE ORIGINAL, THE USE, AND IMPROVEMENT OF MADNESS IN A COMMONWEALTH

Nor shall it in any ways detract from the just reputation of this famous sect, that its rise and institution are owing to such an author as I have described Jack to be; a person whose intellectuals were overturned, and his brain shaken out of its natural position; which we commonly suppose to be a distemper, and call by the name of madness or phrensy. For if we take a survey of the greatest actions that have been performed in the world under the influence of single men, which are, the establishment of new empires by conquest, the advance and progress of new schemes in philosophy, and the contriving, as well as the propagating, of new religions; we shall find the authors of them all to have been persons whose natural reason had admitted great revolutions, from their diet, their education, the prevalency of some certain temper, together with the particular influence of air and climate. Besides, there is something individual in human minds, that easily kindles at the accidental approach and collision of certain circumstances, which, though of paltry and mean appearance, do often flame out into the greatest emergencies of life. For great turns are not always given by strong hands, but by lucky adaption, and at proper seasons; and it is of no import where the fire was kindled, if the vapour has once got up into the brain. For the upper region of man is furnished like the middle region of the air; the materials are formed from causes of the widest difference, yet produce at last the same substance and effect. Mists arise from the earth, steams from dunghills, exhalations from the sea, and smoke from fire; yet all clouds are the same in composition as well as consequences, and the fumes issuing from a jakes will furnish as comely and useful a vapour as incense from an altar. Thus far, I suppose, will easily be granted me; and then it will follow that, as the face of nature never produces rain but when it is overcast and disturbed, so human understanding, seated in the brain, must be troubled and overspread by vapours ascending from the lower faculties to water the invention and render it fruitful. Now, although these vapours (as it has been already said) are of as various original as those of the skies, yet the crops they produce differ both in kind and degree, merely according to the soil. I will produce two instances to prove and explain what I am now advancing.

A certain great prince【25】 raised a mighty army, filled his coffers with infinite treasures, provided an invincible fleet, and all this without giving the least part of his design to his greatest ministers or his nearest favourites. Immediately the whole world was armed; the neighbouring crowns in trembling expectations towards what point the storm would burst; the small politicians everywhere forming profound conjectures. Some believed he had laid a scheme for universal monarchy; others, after much insight, determined the matter to be a project for pulling down the pope, and setting up the reformed religion, which had once been his own. Some, again, of a deeper sagacity, sent him into Asia to subdue the Turk and recover Palestine. In the midst of all these projects and preparations, a certain statesurgeon, gathering the nature of the disease by these symptoms, attempted the cure, at one blow performed the operation, broke the bag, and out flew the vapour; nor did anything want to render it a complete remedy, only that the prince unfortunately happened to die in the performance. Now, is the reader exceedingly curious to learn whence this vapour took its rise, which had so long set the nations at a gaze? what secret wheel, what hidden spring, could put into motion so wonderful an engine? It was afterwards discovered that the movement of this whole machine had been directed by an absent female, whose eyes had raised a protuberancy, and, before emission, she was removed into an enemy's country. What should an unhappy prince do in such ticklish circumstances as these? He tried in vain the poet's never-failing receipt of corpora quaeque; for,

Idque petit corpus mens unde est saucia amore:

Unde feritur, eo tendit, gestitque coire.【26】

Having to no purpose used all peaceable endeavours, the collected part of the semen, raised and inflamed, became adust, converted to choler, turned head upon the spinal duct, and ascended to the brain: the very same principle that influences a bully to break the windows of a whore who has jilted him naturally stirs up a great prince to raise mighty armies, and dream of nothing but sieges, battles, and victories.

— Teterrima belli

Causa —【27】

The other instance is what I have read somewhere in a very ancient author, of a mighty king,【28】 who, for the space of about thirty years, amused himself to take and lose towns; beat armies, and be beaten; drive princes out of their dominions; fright children from their bread and butter; burn, lay waste, plunder, dragoon, massacre subject and stranger, friend and foe, male and female. It is recorded that the philosophers of each country were in grave dispute upon causes, natural, moral and political, to find out where they should assign an original solution of this phenomenon. At last, the vapour or spirit which animated the hero's brain, being in perpetual circulation, seized upon that region of the human body so renowned for furnishing the zibeta occidentalis, and, gathering there into a tumour, left the rest of the world for that time in peace. Of such mighty consequence it is where those exhalations fix, and of so little from whence they proceed. The same spirits which, in their superior progress, would conquer a kingdom, descending upon the anus, conclude in a fistula.

Let us now examine the great introducers of new schemes in philosophy, and search till we can find from what faculty of the soul the disposition arises in mortal man of taking it into his head to advance new systems, with such an eager zeal, in things agreed on all hands impossible to be known: from what seeds this disposition springs, and to what quality of human nature these grand innovators have been indebted for their number of disciples. Because it is plain that several of the chief among them, both ancient and modern, were usually mistaken by their adversaries, and indeed by all except their own followers, to have been persons crazed, or out of their wits; having generally proceeded, in the common course of their words and actions, by a method very different from the vulgar dictates of unrefined reason; agreeing for the most part in their several models with their present undoubted successors in the academy of modern Bedlam, whose merits and principles I shall further examine in due place. Of this kind were Epicurus, Diogenes, Apollonius, Lucretius, Paracelsus, Des Cartes, and others; who, if they were now in the world, tied fast, and separate, from their followers, would, in this our undistinguishing age, incur manifest danger of phlebotomy, and whips, and chains, and dark chambers, and straw. For what man, in the natural state or course of thinking, did ever conceive it in his power to reduce the notions of all mankind exactly to the same length, and breadth, and height of his own? yet this is the first humble and civil design of all innovators in the empire of reason. Epicurus modestly hoped that, one time or other, a certain fortuitous concourse of all men's opinions, after perpetual justlings, the sharp with the smooth, the light and the heavy, the round and the square, would, by certain clinamina, unite in the notions of atoms and void, as these did in the originals of all things. Cartesius reckoned to see, before he died, the sentiments of all philosophers, like so many lesser stars in his romantic system, wrapped and drawn within his own vortex. Now, I would gladly be informed how it is possible to account for such imaginations as these in particular men, without recourse to my phenomenon of vapours ascending from the lower faculties to overshadow the brain, and there distilling into conceptions, for which the narrowness of our mother-tongue has not yet assigned any other name beside that of madness or phrensy. Let us therefore now conjecture how it comes to pass that none of these great prescribers do ever fail providing themselves and their notions with a number of implicit disciples. And I think the reason is easy to be assigned; for there is a peculiar string in the harmony of human understanding, which, in several individuals, is exactly of the same tuning. This, if you can dexterously screw up to its right key, and then strike gently upon it, whenever you have, the good fortune to light among those of the same pitch, they will, by a secret necessary sympathy, strike exactly at the same time. And in this one circumstance lies all the skill or luck of the matter; for, if you chance to jar the string among those who are either above or below your own height, instead of subscribing to your doctrine, they will tie you fast, call you mad, and feed you with bread and water. It is therefore a point of the nicest conduct to distinguish and adapt this noble talent with respect to the differences of persons and of times. Cicero understood this very well, who, when writing to a friend in England, with a caution, among other matters, to beware of being cheated by our hackney-coachmen (who, it seems, in those days were as errant rascals as they are now), has these remarkable words: Est quod gaudeas te in ista loca venisse, ubi aliquid sapere viderere.【29】 For, to speak a bold truth, it is a fatal miscarriage so ill to order affairs as to pass for a fool in one company, when in another you might be treated as a philosopher. Which I desire some certain gentlemen of my acquaintance to lay up in their hearts, as a very seasonable innuendo.

This, indeed, was the fatal mistake of that worthy gentleman, my most ingenious friend, Mr Wotton; a person, in appearance, ordained for greater designs, as well as performances: whether you will consider his notions or his looks, surely no man ever advanced into public with fitter qualifications of body and mind for the propagation of a new religion. O, had those happy talents, misapplied to vain philosophy, been turned into their proper channels of dreams and visions, where distortion of mind and countenance are of such sovereign use, the base detracting world would not then have dared to report that something is amiss, that his brain has undergone an unlucky shake, which even his brother modernists themselves, like ungrates, do whisper so loud, that it reaches up to the very garret I am now writing in!

Lastly, whosoever pleases to look into the fountains of enthusiasm, from whence, in all ages, have eternally proceeded such fattening streams, will find the springhead to have been as troubled and muddy as the current: of such great emolument is a tincture of this vapour, which the world calls madness, that without its help the world would not only be deprived of these two great blessings, conquests and systems, but even all mankind would unhappily be reduced to the same belief in things invisible. Now, the former postulatum being held that it is of no import from what originals this vapour proceeds, but either in what angles it strikes and spreads over the understanding, or upon what species of brain it ascends; it will be a very delicate point to cut the feather, and divide the several reasons to a nice and curious reader, how this numerical difference in the brain can produce effects of so vast a difference from the same vapour as to be the sole point of individuation between Alexander the Great, Jack of Leyden, and Monsieur des Cartes. The present argument is the most abstracted that ever I engaged in; it strains my faculties to their highest stretch: and I desire the reader to attend with the utmost propensity; for I now proceed to unravel this knotty point.

There is in mankind a certain.

Hic multa desiderantur【30】

And this I take to be a clear solution of the matter.

Having therefore so narrowly passed through this intricate difficulty, the reader will, I am sure, agree with me in the conclusion, that if the modems mean by madness only a disturbance or transposition of the brain, by force of certain vapours issuing up from the lower faculties, then has this madness been the parent of all those mighty revolutions that have happened in empire, philosophy, and in religion. For the brain in its natural position and state of serenity disposes its owner to pass his life in the common forms, without any thoughts of subduing multitudes to his own power, his reasons, or his vision; and the more he shapes his understanding by the pattern of human learning, the less he is inclined to form parties after his particular notions, because that instructs him in his private infirmities, as well as in the stubborn ignorance of the people. But when a man's fancy gets astride on his reason; when imagination is at cuffs with the senses; and common understanding, as well as common sense, is kicked out of doors; the first proselyte he makes is himself; and when that is once compassed, the difficulty is not so great in bringing over others; a strong delusion always operating from without as vigorously as from within. For cant and vision are to the ear and the eye the same that tickling is to the touch. Those entertainments and pleasures we most value in life are such as dupe and play the wag with the senses. For if we take an examination of what is generally understood by happiness, as it has respect either to the understanding or the senses, we shall find all its properties and adjuncts will herd under this short definition, that it is a perpetual possession of being well deceived. And first, with relation to the mind or understanding, it is manifest what mighty advantages fiction has over truth; and the reason is just at our elbow, because imagination can build nobler scenes, and produce more wonderful revolutions, than fortune or nature will be at expense to furnish. Nor is mankind so much to blame in his choice thus determining him, if we consider that the debate merely lies between things past and things conceived: and so the question is only this; whether things that have place in the imagination may not as properly be said to exist as those that are seated in the memory; which may be justly held in the affirmative, and very much to the advantage of the former, since this is acknowledged to be the womb of things, and the other allowed to be no more than the grave. Again, if we take this definition of happiness, and examine it with reference to the senses, it will be acknowledged wonderfully adapt. How fading and insipid do all objects accost us that are not conveyed in the vehicle of delusion! how shrunk is everything as it appears in the glass of nature! so that if it were not for the assistance of artificial mediums, false lights, refracted angles, varnish and tinsel, there would be a mighty level in the felicity of enjoyments of mortal men. If this were seriously considered by the world, as I have a certain reason to suspect it hardly will, men would no longer reckon among their high points of wisdom the art of exposing weak sides and publishing infirmities; an employment, in my opinion, neither better nor worse than that of unmasking, which, I think, has never been allowed fair usage either in the world or the playhouse.

In the proportion that credulity is a more peaceful possession of the mind than curiosity, so far preferable is that wisdom which converses about the surface to that pretended philosophy which enters into the depths of things, and then comes gravely back with informations and discoveries that in the inside they are good for nothing. The two senses to which all objects first address themselves are the sight and the touch; these never examine farther than the colour, the shape, the size, and whatever other qualities dwell or are drawn by art upon the outward of bodies; and then comes reason officiously with tools for cutting, and opening, and mangling, and piercing, offering to demonstrate that they are not of the same consistence quite through. Now I take all this to be the last degree of perverting nature; one of whose eternal laws it is, to put her best furniture forward. And therefore, in order to save the charges of all such expensive anatomy for the time to come, I do here think fit to inform the reader that in such conclusions as these reason is certainly in the right; and that, in most corporeal beings which have fallen under my cognizance, the outside has been infinitely preferable to the in: whereof I have been farther convinced from some late experiments. Last week I saw a woman flayed, and you will hardly believe how much it altered her person for the worse. Yesterday I ordered the carcase of a beau to be stripped in my presence; when we were all amazed to find so many unsuspected faults under one suit of clothes. Then I laid open his brain, his heart, and his spleen: but I plainly perceived at every operation, that the farther we proceeded we found the defects increase upon us in number and bulk: from all which, I justly formed this conclusion to myself, that whatever philosopher or projector can find out an art to solder and patch up the flaws and imperfections of nature will deserve much better of mankind, and teach us a more useful science, than that so much in present esteem, of widening and exposing them, like him who held anatomy to be the ultimate end of physic. And he whose fortunes and dispositions have placed him in a convenient station to enjoy the fruits of this noble art; he that can, with Epicurus, content his ideas with the films and images that fly off upon his senses from the superficies of things; such a man, truly wise, creams off nature, leaving the sour and the dregs for philosophy and reason to lap up. This is the sublime and refined point of felicity, called the possession of being well deceived; the serene, peaceful state of being a fool among knaves.

But to return to madness. It is certain that, according to the system I have above deduced, every species thereof proceeds from a redundancy of vapours; therefore, as some kinds of phrensy give double strength to the sinews, so there are of other species, which add vigour, and life, and spirit to the brain: now, it usually happens that these active spirits, getting possession of the brain, resemble those that haunt other waste and empty dwellings, which, for want of business, either vanish and carry away a piece of the house, or else stay at home and fling it all out of the windows. By which are mystically displayed the two principal branches of madness, and which some philosophers, not considering so well as I, have mistaken to be different in their causes, over hastily assigning the first to deficiency, and the other to redundance.

I think it therefore manifest, from what I have here advanced, that the main point of skill and address is, to furnish employment for this redundancy of vapour, and prudently to adjust the season of it; by which means it may certainly become of cardinal and catholic emolument in a commonwealth. Thus one man, choosing a proper juncture, leaps into a gulf, thence proceeds a hero, and is called the saviour of his country: another achieves the same enterprise, but, unluckily timing it, has left the brand of madness fixed as a reproach upon his memory: upon so nice a distinction, are we taught to repeat the name of Curtius with reverence and love; that of Empedocles with hatred and contempt. Thus also it is usually conceived that the elder Brutus only personated the fool and madman for the good of the public; but this was nothing else than a redundancy of the same vapour long misapplied, called by Latins ingenium par negotiis; or, to translate it as nearly as I can, a sort of phrensy, never in its right element till you take it up in the business of the state.

Upon all which, and many other reasons of equal weight, though not equally curious, I do here gladly embrace an opportunity I have long sought for of recommending it as a very noble undertaking to Sir Edward Seymour, Sir Christopher Musgrave, Sir John Bowles, John Howe, esq., and other patriots concerned, that they would move for leave to bring in a bill for appointing commissioners to inspect into Bedlam and the parts adjacent; who shall be empowered to send for persons, papers, and records; to examine into the merits and qualifications of every student and professor; to observe with utmost exactness their several dispositions and behaviour; by which means, duly distinguishing and adapting their talents, they might produce admirable instruments for the several offices in a state, civil and military: proceeding in such methods as I shall here humbly propose. And I hope the gentle reader will give some allowance to my great solicitudes in this important affair, upon account of the high esteem I have borne that honourable society, whereof I had some time the happiness to be an unworthy member.

Is any student tearing his straw in piecemeal, swearing and blaspheming, biting his grate, foaming at the mouth, and emptying his piss-pot in the spectators' faces? let the right worshipful the commissioners of inspection give him a regiment of dragoons, and send him into Flanders among the rest. Is another eternally talking, spluttering, gaping, bawling in a sound without period or article? what wonderful talents are here mislaid! let him be furnished immediately with a green bag and papers, and threepence in his pocket, and away with him to Westminster-Hall. You will find a third gravely taking the dimensions of his kennel; a person of foresight and insight, though kept quite in the dark; for why, like Moses, ecce cornuta erat ejus facies.【31】 He walks duly in one place, entreats your penny with due gravity and ceremony; talks much of hard times, and taxes, and the whore of Babylon; bars up the wooden window of his cell constantly at eight o'clock; dreams of fire, and shoplifters, and court-customers, and privileged places. Now, what a figure would all these acquirements amount to if the owner were sent into the city among his brethren! Behold a fourth, in much and deep conversation with himself, biting his thumbs at proper junctures; his countenance checkered with business and design; sometimes walking very fast, with his eyes nailed to a paper that he holds in his hands: a great saver of time, somewhat thick of hearing, very short of sight, but more of memory: a man ever in haste, a great hatcher and breeder of business, and excellent at the famous art of whispering nothing; a huge idolator of monosyllables and procrastination; so ready to give his word to everybody, that he never keeps it: one that has forgot the common meaning of words, but an admirable retainer of the sound: extremely subject to the looseness, for his occasions are perpetually calling him away. If you approach his grate in his familiar intervals; Sir, says he, give me a penny, and I'll sing you a song: but give me the penny first. (Hence comes the common saying, and commoner practice, of parting with money for a song.) What a complete system of court skill is here described in every branch of it, and all utterly lost with wrong application! Accost the hole of another kennel (first stopping your nose), you will behold a surly, gloomy, nasty, slovenly mortal, ranking in his own dung, and dabbling in his urine. The best part of his diet is the reversion of his own ordure, which, expiring into steams, whirls perpetually about, and at last reinfunds. His complexion is of a dirty yellow, with a thin scattered beard, exactly agreeable to that of his diet upon its first declination; like other insects, who, having their birth and education in an excrement, from thence borrow their colour and their smell. The student of this apartment is very sparing of his words, but somewhat over-liberal of his breath: he holds his hand out ready to receive your penny, and immediately upon receipt withdraws to his former occupations. Now, is it not amazing to think the society of Warwicklane should have no more concern for the recovery of so useful a member, who, if one may judge from these appearances, would become the greatest ornament to that illustrious body? Another student struts up fiercely to your teeth, puffing with his lips, half squeezing out his eyes, and very graciously holds you out his hand to kiss. The keeper desires you not to be afraid of this professor, for he will do you no hurt: to him alone is allowed the liberty of the ante-chamber, and the orator of the place gives you to understand that this solemn person is a tailor run mad with pride. This considerable student is adorned with many other qualities, upon which at present I shall not farther enlarge. — Hark in your ear — I am strangely mistaken if all his address, his motions, and his airs, would not then be very natural, and in their proper element.

I shall not descend so minutely as to insist upon the vast number of beaux, fiddlers, poets, and politicians that the world might recover by such a reformation; but what is more material, beside the clear gain redounding to the commonwealth, by so large an acquisition of persons to employ, whose talents and acquirements, if I may be so bold as to affirm it, are now buried, or at least misapplied; it would be a mighty advantage accruing to the public from this inquiry, that all these would very much excel, and arrive at great perfection in their several kinds; which, I think, is manifest from what I have already shown, and shall enforce by this one plain instance; that even I myself, the author of these momentous truths, am a person whose imaginations are not hard-mouthed and exceedingly disposed to run away with his reason, which I have observed, from long experience, to be a very light rider, and easily shaken off; upon which account my friends will never trust me alone, without a solemn promise to vent my speculations in this or the like manner, for the universal benefit of humankind; which perhaps the gentle, courteous, and candid reader, brimful of that modern charity and ten-derness usually annexed to his office, will be very hardly persuaded to believe.

Section X
A TALE OF A TUB

It is an unanswerable argument of a very refined age, the wonderful civilities that have passed of late years between the nation of authors and that of readers. There can hardly pop out a play, a pamphlet, or a poem, without a preface full of acknowledgement to the world for the general reception and applause they have given it, which the Lord knows where, or when, or how, or from whom it received. In due deference to so laudable a custom, I do here return my humble thanks to his majesty and both houses of parliament, to the lords of the king's most honourable privy-council, to the reverend the judges, to the clergy, and gentry, and yeomanry of this land; but in a more especial manner, to my worthy brethren and friends at Will's coffee-house, and Gresham College, and Warwick-lane, and Moorfields, and Scotland Yard, and Westminster-hall, and Guildhall; in short, to all the inhabitants and retainers whatsoever, either in court, or church, or camp, or city, or country, for their generous and universal acceptance of this divine treatise. I accept their approbation and good opinion with extreme gratitude, and, to the utmost of my poor capacity, shall take hold of all opportunities to return the obligation.

I am also happy that fate has flung me into so blessed an age for the mutual felicity of booksellers and authors, whom I may safely affirm to be at this day the two only satisfied parties in England. Ask an author how his last piece has succeeded; why, truly, he thanks his stars the world has been very favourable, and he has not the least reason to complain: and yet, by G—, he wrote it in a week, at bits and starts, when he could steal an hour from his urgent affairs; as it is a hundred to one, you may see farther in the preface, to which he refers you; and for the rest to the bookseller. There you go as a customer, and make the same question: he blesses his God the thing takes wonderfully, he is just printing the second edition, and has but three left in his shop. You beat down the price: 'Sir, we shall not differ'; and, in hopes of your custom another time, lets you have it as reasonable as you please; and 'pray send as many of your acquaintance as you will, I shall, upon your account, furnish them all at the same rate.'

Now, it is not well enough considered to what accidents and occasions the world is indebted for the greatest part of those noble writings which hourly start up to entertain it. If it were not for a rainy day, a drunken vigil, a fit of the spleen, a course of physic, a sleepy Sunday, an ill run at dice, a long tailor's bill, a beggar's purse, a factious head, a hot sun, costive diet, want of books, and a just contempt of learning: but for these events, I say, and some others too long to recite (especially a prudent neglect of taking brimstone inwardly), I doubt the number of authors and of writings would dwindle away to a degree most woeful to behold. To confirm this opinion, hear the words of the famous Troglodyte philosopher: It is certain (said he) some grains of folly are of course annexed, as part of the composition of human nature, only the choice is left us, whether we please to wear them inlaid or embossed: and we need not to go very far to seek how that is usually determined, when we remember it is with human faculties as with liquors, the lightest will be ever at the top.

There is in this famous island of Britain a certain paltry scribbler, very voluminous, whose character the reader cannot wholly be a stranger to. He deals in a pernicious kind of writings, called second parts; and usually passes under the name of the author of the first. I easily foresee, that as soon as I lay down my pen this nimble operator will have stolen it, and treat me as inhumanly as he has already done Dr Blackmore, Lestrange, and many others, who shall here be nameless; I therefore fly for justice and relief into the hands of that great rectifier of saddles, and lover of mankind, Dr Bentley, begging he will take this enormous grievance into his most modern consideration: and if it should so happen that the furniture of an ass, in the shape of second part, must, for my sins, be clapped by a mistake upon my back, that he will immediately please, in the presence of the world, to lighten me of the burden, and take it home to his own house, till the true beast thinks fit to call for it.

In the meantime I do here give this public notice, that my resolutions are to circumscribe within this discourse the whole stock of matter I have been so many years providing. Since my vein is once opened, I am content to exhaust it all at a running, for the peculiar advantage of my dear country, and for the universal benefit of mankind. Therefore, hospitably considering the number of my guests, they shall have my whole entertainment at a meal; and I scorn to set up the leavings in the cupboard. What the guests cannot eat may be given to the poor; and the dogs under the table may gnaw the bones. This I understand for a more generous proceeding than to turn the company's stomach, by inviting them again tomorrow to a scurvy meal of scraps.

If the reader fairly considers the strength of what I have advanced in the foregoing section, I am convinced it will produce a wonderful revolution in his notions and opinions; and he will be abundantly better prepared to receive and to relish the concluding part of this miraculous treatise. Readers may be divided into three classes — the superficial, the ignorant, and the learned: and I have with much felicity fitted my pen to the genius and advantage of each. The superficial reader will be strangely provoked to laughter; which clears the breast and the lungs, is sovereign against the spleen, and the most innocent of all diuretics. The ignorant reader, between whom and the former the distinction is extremely nice, will find himself disposed to stare; which is an admirable remedy for ill eyes, serves to raise and enliven the spirits, and wonderfully helps perspiration. But the reader truly learned, chiefly for whose benefit I wake when others sleep, and sleep when others wake, will here find sufficient matter to employ his speculations for the rest of his life. It were much to be wished, and I do here humbly propose for an experiment, that every prince in Christendom will take seven of the deepest scholars in his dominions, and shut them up close for seven years in seven chambers, with a command to write seven ample commentaries on this comprehensive discourse. I shall venture to affirm that, whatever difference may be found in their several conjectures, they will be all, without the least distortion, manifestly deducible from the text. Meantime, it is my earnest request that so useful an undertaking may be entered upon, if their majesties please, with all convenient speed; because I have a strong inclination, before I leave the world, to taste a blessing which we mysterious writers can seldom reach till we have gotten into our graves: whether it is, that fame, being a fruit grafted on the body, can hardly grow, and much less ripen, till the stock is in the earth; or whether she be a bird of prey, and is lured, among the rest, to pursue after the scent of a carcase; or whether she conceives her trumpet sounds best and farthest when she stands on a tomb, by the advantage of a rising ground and the echo of a hollow vault.

It is true, indeed, the republic of dark authors, after they once found out this excellent expedient of dying, have been peculiarly happy in the variety as well as extent of their reputation. For night being the universal mother of things, wise philosophers hold all writings to be fruitful in the proportion that they are dark; and therefore, the true illuminated (that is to say, the darkest of all) have met with such numberless commentators, whose scholastic midwifery has delivered them of meanings that the authors themselves perhaps never conceived, and yet may very justly be allowed the lawful parents of them; the words of such writers being like seed, which, however scattered at random, when they light upon a fruitful ground, will multiply far beyond either the hopes or imagination of the sower.

And therefore, in order to promote so useful a work, I will here take leave to glance a few innuendoes that may be of great assistance to those sublime spirits who shall be appointed to labour in a universal comment upon this wonderful discourse. And first, I have couched a very profound mystery in the number of O's multiplied by seven and divided by nine. Also, if a devout brother of the rosy cross will pray fervently for sixty-three mornings, with a lively faith, and then transpose certain letters and syllables, according to prescription, in the second and fifth section, they will certainly reveal into a full receipt of the opus magnum. Lastly, whoever will be at the pains to calculate the whole number of each letter in this treatise, and sum up the difference exactly between the several numbers, assigning the true natural cause for every such difference, the discoveries in the product will plentifully reward his labour. But then he must beware of Bythus and Sigé, and be sure not to forget the qualities of Achamoth; à cujus lacrymis humecta prodit substantia, à risu lucida, à tristitia, et à timore mobilis;【32】 wherein Eugenius Philalethes hath committed an unpardonable mistake.

Section XI
A TALE OF A TUB

After so wide a compass as I have wandered, I do now gladly overtake and close in with my subject, and shall henceforth hold on with it an even pace to the end of my journey, except some beautiful prospect appears within sight of my way; whereof though at present I have neither warning nor expectation, yet upon such an accident, come when it will, I shall beg my reader's favour and company, allowing me to conduct him through it along with myself. For in writing it is as in travelling; if a man is in haste to be at home (which I acknowledge to be none of my case, having never so little business as when I am there), and his horse be tired with long riding and ill ways, or naturally a jade, I advise him clearly to make the straightest and the commonest road, be it ever so dirty; but then surely we must own such a man to be a scurvy companion at best; he spatters himself and his fellow-travellers at every step; all their thoughts, and wishes, and conversation turn entirely upon the subject of their journey's end; and at every splash, and plunge, and stumble, they heartily wish one another at the devil.

On the other side, when a traveller and his horse are in heart and plight, when his purse is full and the day before him, he takes the road only where it is clean and convenient; entertains his company there as agreeably as he can; but, upon the first occasion, carries them along with him to every delightful scene in view, whether of art, of nature, or of both; and if they chance to refuse, out of stupidity or weariness, let them jog on by themselves and be d—n'd; he'll overtake them at the next town; at which arriving, he rides furiously through; the men, women, and children, run out to gaze; a hundred noisy curs run barking after him, of which, if he honours the boldest with a lash of his whip, it is rather out of sport than revenge; but should some sourer mongrel dare too near an approach, he receives a salute on the chaps by an accidental stroke from the courser's heels, nor is any ground lost by the blow, which sends him yelping and limping home.

I now proceed to sum up the singular adventures of my renowned Jack: the state of whose dispositions and fortunes the careful reader does, no doubt, most exactly remember, as I last parted with them in the conclusion of a former section. Therefore, his next care must be, from two of the foregoing, to extract a scheme of notions that may best fit his understanding for a true relish of what is to ensue.

JACK had not only calculated the first revolution of his brain so prudently as to give rise to that epidemic sect of Aeolists, but succeeding also into a new and strange variety of conceptions, the fruitfulness of his imagination led him into certain notions, which, although in appearance very unaccountable, were not without their mysteries and their meanings, nor wanted followers to countenance and improve them. I shall therefore be extremely careful and exact in recounting such material passages of this nature as I have been able to collect, either from undoubted tradition or indefatigable reading; and shall describe them as graphically as it is possible, and as far as notions of that height and latitude can be brought within the compass of a pen. Nor do I at all question but they will furnish plenty of noble matter for such whose converting imaginations dispose them to reduce all things into types; who can make shadows, no thanks to the sun; and then mould them into substances, no thanks to philosophy; whose peculiar talent lies in fixing tropes and allegories to the letter, and refining what is literal into figure and mystery.

JACK had provided a fair copy of his father's will, engrossed in form upon a large skin of parchment; and resolving to act the part of a most dutiful son, he became the fondest creature of it imaginable. For although, as I have often told the reader, it consisted wholly in certain plain, easy directions, about the management and wearing of their coats, with legacies, and penalties in case of obedience or neglect, yet he began to entertain a fancy that the matter was deeper and darker, and therefore must needs have a great deal more of mystery at the bottom. 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'I will prove this very skin of parchment to be meat, drink, and cloth, to be the philosopher's stone and the universal medicine.' In consequence of which raptures, he resolved to make use of it in the necessary as well as the most paltry occasions of life. He had a way of working it into any shape he pleased; so that it served him for a nightcap when he went to bed, and for an umbrella in rainy weather. He would lap a piece of it about a sore toe, or, when he had fits, burn two inches under his nose; or, if anything lay heavy on his stomach, scrape off and swallow as much of the powder as would lie on a silver penny; they were all infallible remedies. With analogy to these refinements, his common talk and conversation ran wholly in the phrase of his will, and he circumscribed the utmost of his eloquence within that compass, not daring to let slip a syllable without authority from that. Once, at a strange house, he was suddenly taken short upon an urgent juncture, whereon it may not be allowed too particularly to dilate; and being not able to call to mind, with that suddenness the occasion required, an authentic phrase for demanding the way to the backside, he chose rather, as the most prudent course, to incur the penalty in such cases usually annexed. Neither was it possible for the united rhetoric of mankind to prevail with him to make himself clean again; because, having consulted the will upon this emergency, he met with a passage near the bottom (whether foisted in by the transcriber is not known) which seemed to forbid it.

He made it a part of his religion never to say grace to his meat; nor could all the world persuade him, as the common phrase is, to eat his victuals like a Christian.

He bore a strange kind of appetite to snap-dragon, and to the livid snuffs of a burning candle, which he would catch and swallow with an agility wonderful to conceive; and, by this procedure, maintained a perpetual flame in his belly, which, issuing in a glowing steam from both his eyes, as well as his nostrils and his mouth, made his head appear, in a dark night, like the skull of an ass, wherein a roguish boy had conveyed a farthing candle, to the terror of his majesty's liege subjects. Therefore, he made use of no other expedient to light himself home, but was wont to say that a wise man was his own lantern.

He would shut his eyes as he walked along the streets, and if he happened to bounce his head against a post, or fall into a kennel, as he seldom missed either to do one or both, he would tell the gibing apprentices who looked on that he submitted with entire resignation as to a trip or a blow of fate, with whom he found, by long experience, how vain it was either to wrestle or to cuff; and whoever durst undertake to do either would be sure to come off with a swinging fall or a bloody nose. 'It was ordained,' said he, 'some few days before the creation, that my nose and this very post should have a rencounter; and therefore nature thought fit to send us both into the world in the same age, and to make us countrymen and fellow-citizens. Now, had my eyes been open, it is very likely the business might have been a great deal worse; for how many a confounded slip is daily got by a man with all his foresight about him? Besides, the eyes of the understanding see best when those of the senses are out of the way; and therefore blind men are observed to tread their steps with much more caution, and conduct, and judgment, than those who rely with too much confidence upon the virtue of the visual nerve, which every little accident shakes out of order, and a drop or a film can wholly disconcert; like a lantern among a pack of roaring bullies when they scour the streets, exposing its owner and itself to outward kicks and buffets, which both might have escaped if the vanity of appearing would have suffered them to walk in the dark. But farther, if we examine the conduct of these boasted lights, it will prove yet a great deal worse than their fortune. It is true, I have broke my nose against this post, because fortune either forgot, or did not think it convenient, to twitch me by the elbow, and give me notice to avoid it. But let not this encourage either the present age or posterity to trust their noses into the keeping of their eyes, which may prove the fairest way of losing them for good and all. For, O ye eyes, ye blind guides; miserable guardians are ye of our frail noses; ye, I say, who fasten upon the first precipice in view, and then tow our wretched willing bodies after you to the very brink of destruction: and alas! that brink is rotten, our feet slip, and we tumble down prone into a gulf, without one hospitable shrub in the way to break the fall; a fall to which not any nose of mortal make is equal, except that of the giant Laurcalco, who was lord of the silver bridge. Most properly, therefore, O eyes, and with great justice, may you be compared to those foolish lights which conduct men through dirt and darkness, till they fall into a deep pit or a noisome bog.'

This I have produced as a scantling of Jack's great eloquence, and the force of his reasoning upon such abstruse matters.

He was, besides, a person of great design and improvement in affairs of devotion, having introduced a new deity, who has since met with a vast number of worshippers; by some called Babel, by others Chaos, who had an ancient temple of Gothic structure upon Salisbury plain, famous for its shrine and celebration by pilgrims.

When he had some roguish trick to play, he would down with his knees, up with his eyes, and fall to prayers, though in the midst of the kennel. Then it was that those who understood his pranks would be sure to get far enough out of his way; and whenever curiosity attracted strangers to laugh or to listen, he would, of a sudden, with one hand, out with his gear and piss full in their eyes, and with the other all bespatter them with mud.

In winter he went always loose and unbuttoned, and clad as thin as possible to let in the ambient heat; and in summer lapped himself close and thick to keep it out.

In all revolutions of government he would make his court for the office of hangman general; and in the exercise of that dignity, wherein he was very dexterous, would make use of no other vizard than a long prayer.

He had a tongue so musculous and subtile, that he could twist it up into his nose, and deliver a strange kind of speech from thence. He was also the first in these kingdoms who began to improve the Spanish accomplishment of braying; and having large ears, perpetually exposed and erected, he carried his art to such a perfection, that it was a point of great difficulty to distinguish, either by the view or the sound, between the original and the copy.

He was troubled with a disease reverse to that called the stinging of the tarantula; and would run dog-mad at the noise of music, especially a pair of bagpipes. But he would cure himself again by taking two or three turns in Westminster-hall, or Billingsgate, or in a boarding-school, or the Royal Exchange, or a state coffee-house.

He was a person that feared no colours, but mortally hated all, and, upon that account, bore a cruel aversion against painters, insomuch that, in his paroxysms, as he walked the streets, he would have his pockets loaden with stones to pelt at the signs.

Having, from this manner of living, frequent occasion to wash himself, he would often leap over head and ears into water, though it were in the midst of the winter, but was always observed to come out again much dirtier, if possible, than he went in.

He was the first that ever found out the secret of contriving a soporiferous medicine to be conveyed in at the ears; it was a compound of sulphur and balm of Gilead, with a little pilgrim's salve.

He wore a large plaster of artificial caustics on his stomach, with the fervour of which he could set himself a-groaning, like the famous board upon application of a red-hot iron.

He would stand in the turning of a street, and, calling to those who passed by, would cry to one, 'Worthy sir, do me the honour of a good slap in the chaps.' To another, 'Honest friend, pray favour me with a handsome kick on the arse: Madam, shall I entreat a small box on the ear from your ladyship's fair hands? Noble captain, lend a reasonable thwack, for the love of God, with that cane of yours over these poor shoulders.' And when he had, by such earnest solicitations, made a shift to procure a basting sufficient to swell up his fancy and his sides, he would return home extremely comforted, and full of terrible accounts of what he had undergone for the public good. 'Observe this stroke' (said he, showing his bare shoulders); 'a plaguy janizary gave it me this very morning, at seven o'clock, as, with much ado, I was driving off the great Turk. Neighbours, mind, this broken head deserves a plaster; had poor Jack been tender of his noddle, you would have seen the pope and the French king, long before this time of day, among your wives and your warehouses. Dear christians, the great Mogul was come as far as Whitechapel, and you may thank these poor sides that he hath not (God bless us!) already swallowed up man, woman, and child.'

It was highly worth observing the singular effects of that aversion or antipathy which Jack and his brother Peter seemed, even to an affectation, to bear against each other. Peter had lately done some rogueries that forced him to abscond, and he seldom ventured to stir out before night, for fear of bailiffs. Their lodgings were at the two most distant parts of the town from each other; and whenever their occasions or humours called them abroad, they would make choice of the oddest unlikely times, and most uncouth rounds they could invent, that they might be sure to avoid one another; yet, after all this, it was their perpetual fortune to meet. The reason of which is easy enough to apprehend; for, the phrensy and the spleen of both having the same foundation, we may look upon them as two pair of compasses, equally extended, and the fixed foot of each remaining in the same centre, which, though moving contrary ways at first, will be sure to encounter somewhere or other in the circumference. Besides, it was among the great misfortunes of Jack to bear a huge personal resemblance with his brother Peter. Their humour and dispositions were not only the same, but there was a close analogy in their shape, their size, and their mien. Insomuch, as nothing was more frequent than for a bailiff to seize Jack by the shoulders, and cry, 'Mr Peter, you are the king's prisoner.' Or, at other times, for one of Peter's nearest friends to accost Jack with open arms, 'Dear Peter, I am glad to see thee; pray send me one of your best medicines for the worms.' This, we may suppose, was a mortifying return of those pains and proceedings Jack had laboured in so long; and finding how directly opposite all his endeavours had answered to the sole end and intention which he had proposed to himself, how could it avoid having terrible effects upon a head and heart so furnished as his? However, the poor remainders of his coat bore all the punishment; the orient sun never entered upon his diurnal progress without missing a piece of it. He hired a tailor to stitch up the collar so close that it was ready to choke him, and squeezed out his eyes at such a rate as one could see nothing but the white. What little was left of the main substance of the coat he rubbed every day for two hours against a rough-cast wall, in order to grind away the remnants of lace and embroidery; but at the same time went on with so much violence that he proceeded a heathen philosopher. Yet, after all he could do of this kind, the success continued still to disappoint his expectation. For, as it is the nature of rags to bear a kind of mock resemblance to finery, there being a sort of fluttering appearance in both which is not to be distinguished at a distance, in the dark, or by short-sighted eyes, so, in those junctures, it fared with Jack and his tatters, that they offered to the first view a ridiculous flaunting, which, assisting the resemblance in person and air, thwarted all his projects of separation, and left so near a similitude between them as frequently deceived the very disciples and followers of both.

Desunt non-
nulla【33】

The old Sclavonian proverb said well, that it is with men as with asses; whoever would keep them fast must find a very good hold at their ears. Yet I think we may affirm that it has been verified by repeated experience that —

Effugiet tamen haec sceleratus vincula Proteus.【34】

It is good, therefore, to read the maxims of our ancestors, with great allowances to times and persons; for, if we look into primitive records, we shall find that no revolutions have been so great or so frequent as those of human ears. In former days there was a curious invention to catch and keep them, which I think we may justly reckon among the artes perditae; and how can it be otherwise, when in the latter centuries the very species is not only diminished to a very lamentable degree, but the poor remainder is also degenerated so far as to mock our skilfullest tenure? For, if the only slitting of one ear in a stag has been found sufficient to propagate the defect through a whole forest, why should we wonder at the greatest consequences from so many loppings and mutilations to which the ears of our fathers, and our own, have been of late so much exposed? It is true, indeed, that while this island of ours was under the dominion of grace, many endeavours were made to improve the growth of ears once more among us. The proportion of largeness was not only looked upon as an ornament of the outward man, but as a type of grace in the inward. Besides, it is held by naturalists that, if there be a protuberancy of parts in the superior region of the body, as in the ears and nose, there must be a parity also in the inferior: and, therefore, in that truly pious age, the males in every assembly, according as they were gifted, appeared very forward in exposing their ears to view, and the regions about them; because Hippocrates tells us that, when the vein behind the ear happens to be cut, a man becomes an eunuch; and the females were nothing backwarder in beholding and edifying by them; whereof those who had already used the means looked about them with great concern, in hopes of conceiving a suitable offspring by such a prospect: others, who stood candidates for benevolence found there a plentiful choice, and were sure to fix upon such as discovered the largest ears, that the breed might not dwindle between them. Lastly, the devouter sisters, who looked upon all extraordinary dilatations of that member as protrusions of zeal, or spiritual excrescences, were sure to honour every head they sat upon as if they had been marks of grace; but especially that of the preacher, whose ears were usually of the prime magnitude; which, upon that account, he was very frequent and exact in exposing with all advantages to the people; in his rhetorical paroxysms turning sometimes to hold forth the one, and sometimes to hold forth the other: from which custom the whole operation of preaching is to this very day, among their professors, styled by the phrase of holding forth.

Such was the progress of the saints for advancing the size of that member; and it is thought the success would have been every way answerable, if, in process of time, a cruel king had not arisen,【35】 who raised a bloody persecution against all ears above a certain standard: upon which, some were glad to hide their flourishing sprouts in a black border, others crept wholly under a periwig; some were slit, others cropped, and a great number sliced off to the stumps. But of this more hereafter in my general history of ears, which I design very speedily to bestow upon the public.

From this brief survey of the falling state of ears in the last age, and the small care had to advance their ancient growth in the present, it is manifest how little reason we can have to rely upon a hold so short, so weak, and so slippery, and that whoever desires to catch mankind fast must have recourse to some other methods. Now, he that will examine human nature with circumspection enough may discover several handles, whereof the six senses afford one a-piece, beside a great number that are screwed to the passions, and some few riveted to the intellect. Among these last, curiosity is one, and of all others, affords the firmest grasp: curiosity, that spur in the side, that bridle in the mouth, that ring in the nose, of a lazy and impatient and a grunting reader. By this handle it is, that an author should seize upon his readers; which as soon as he has once compassed, all resistance and struggling are in vain; and they become his prisoners as close as he pleases, till weariness or dulness force him to let go his gripe.

And therefore, I, the author of this miraculous treatise, having hitherto, beyond expectation, maintained, by the aforesaid handle, a firm hold upon my gentle readers, it is with great reluctance that I am at length compelled to remit my grasp; leaving them, in the perusal of what remains, to that natural oscitancy inherent in the tribe. I can only assure thee, courteous reader, for both our comforts, that my concern is altogether equal to thine for my unhappiness in losing, or mislaying among my papers, the remaining part of these memoirs; which consisted of accidents, turns, and adventures, both new, agreeable, and surprising; and therefore calculated, in all due points, to the delicate taste of this our noble age. But, alas! with my utmost endeavours, I have been able only to retain a few of the heads. Under which, there was a full account how Peter got a protection out of the king's bench; and of a reconcilement between Jack and him, upon a design they had, in a certain rainy night, to trepan brother Martin into a spunging-house, and there strip him to the skin. How Martin, with much ado, showed them both a fair pair of heels. How a new warrant came out against Peter; upon which, how Jack left him in the lurch, stole his protection, and made use of it himself. How Jack's tatters came into fashion in court and city; how he got upon a great horse, and ate custard. But the particulars of all these, with several others which have now slid out of my memory, are lost beyond all hopes of recovery. For which misfortune, leaving my readers to condole with each other, as far as they shall find it to agree with their several constitutions, but conjuring them by all the friendship that has passed between us, from the title-page to this, not to proceed so far as to injure their healths for an accident past remedy — I now go on to the ceremonial part of an accomplished writer, and therefore, by a courtly modem, least of all others to be omitted.

The Conclusion

Going too long is a cause of abortion as effectual, though not so frequent, as going too short, and holds true especially in the labours of the brain. Well fare the heart of that noble jesuit who first adventured to confess in print that books must be suited to their several seasons, like dress, and diet, and diversions; and better fare our noble nation for refining upon this among other French modes. I am living fast to see the time when a book that misses its tide shall be neglected, as the moon by day, or like mackerel a week after the season. No man has more nicely observed our climate than the bookseller who bought the copy of this work; he knows to a tittle what subjects will best go off in a dry year, and which it is proper to expose foremost when the weather-glass is fallen to much rain. When he had seen this treatise, and consulted his almanac upon it, he gave me to understand that he had manifestly considered the two principal things, which were, the bulk and the subject, and found it would never take but after a long vacation, and then only in case it should happen to be a hard year for turnips. Upon which I desired to know, considering my urgent necessities, what he thought might be acceptable this month. He looked westward and said, I doubt we shall have a fit of bad weather; however, if you could prepare some pretty little banter (but not in verse), or a small treatise upon the —, it would run like wildfire. But if it hold up, I have already hired an author to write something against Dr Bentley, which I am sure will turn to account.

At length we agreed upon this expedient; that when a customer comes from one of these, and desires in confidence to know the author, he will tell him very privately as a friend, naming whichever of the wits shall happen to be that week in vogue; and if Durfey's last play shall be in course, I would as lieve he may be the person as Congreve. This I mention, because I am wonderfully well acquainted with the present relish of our courteous readers; and have often observed with singular pleasure, that a fly driven from a honey-pot will immediately, with very good appetite, alight and finish his meal on an excrement.

I have one word to say upon the subject of profound writers, who are grown very numerous of late; and I know very well the judicious world is resolved to list me in that number. I conceive therefore, as to the business of being profound, that it is with writers as with wells — a person with good eyes may see to the bottom of the deepest, provided any water be there: and often when there is nothing in the world at the bottom besides dryness and dirt, though it be but a yard and a-half under-ground, it shall pass, however, for wondrous deep, upon no wiser a reason than because it is wondrous dark.

I am now trying an experiment very frequent among modern authors, which is to write upon nothing; when the subject is utterly exhausted, to let the pen still move on: by some called the ghost of wit, delighting to walk after the death of its body. And to say the truth, there seems to be no part of knowledge in fewer hands than that of discerning when to have done. By the time that an author has written out a book he and his readers are become old acquaintance, and grow very loth to part; so that I have sometimes known it to be in writing as in visiting, where the ceremony of taking leave has employed more time than the whole conversation before. The conclusion of a treatise resembles the conclusion of human life, which has sometimes been compared to the end of a feast, where few are satisfied to depart, ut plenus vitae conviva; for men will sit down after the fullest meal, though it be only to doze or to sleep out the rest of the day. But in this latter I differ extremely from other writers; and shall be too proud if, by all my labours, I can have anyways contributed to the repose of mankind in times so turbulent and unquiet as these. Neither do I think such an employment so very alien from the office of a wit as some would suppose. For, among a very polite nation in Greece, there were the same temples built and consecrated to Sleep and the Muses; between which two deities they believed the strictest friendship was established.

I have one concluding favour to request of my reader, that he will not expect to be equally diverted and informed by every line or every page of this discourse; but give some allowance to the author s spleen and short fits or intervals of dulness, as well as his own; and lay it seriously to his conscience, whether, if he were walking the streets in dirty weather or a rainy day, he would allow it fair dealing in folks at their ease from a window to criticise his gait and ridicule his dress at such a juncture.

In my disposure of employments of the brain I have thought fit to make invention the master, and to give method and reason the office of its lackeys. The cause of this distribution was, from observing it my peculiar case to be often under a temptation of being witty, upon occasions where I could be neither wise, nor sound, nor anything to the matter in hand. And I am too much a servant of the modern way to neglect any such opportunities, whatever pains or improprieties I may be at to introduce them. For I have observed that, from a laborious collection of seven hundred and thirty-eight flowers and shining hints of the best modem authors, digested with great reading into my book of commonplaces, I have not been able, after five years, to draw, book, or force into common conversation, any more than a dozen. Of which dozen, the one moiety failed of success by being dropped among unsuitable company; and the other cost me so many strains and traps and ambages to introduce, that I at length resolved to give it over. Now, this disappointment (to discover a secret), I must own, gave me the first hint of setting up for an author; and I have since found among some particular friends, that it is become a very general complaint, and has produced the same effects upon many others. For I have remarked many a towardly word to be wholly neglected or despised in discourse, which has passed very smoothly with some consideration and esteem after its preferment and sanction in print. But now, since by the liberty and encouragement of the press, I am grown absolute master of the occasions and opportunities to expose the talents I have acquired, I already discover that the issues of my observanda begin to grow too large for the receipts. Therefore I shall here pause a while, till I find, by feeling the world's pulse and my own, that it will be of absolute necessity for us both to resume my pen.

注释

【1】　'To escape into the upper air, /This is the task, this is the labour.' Virgil, Aeneid, 6, 128-9.

【2】　'So that old men may retire in comfortable leisure'. Horace, Satires, 1.1.31.

【3】　'under the very heavens, at the junctions and crossroads'.

【4】　'And we must agree that voice too is physical/Since it can incite the senses.' Lucretius, De Return Natura, 4.526-7.

【5】　A pretended defect in the manuscript is a favourite device with Swift.

【6】　The Royal Society met at Gresham College.

【7】　Will's coffee-house, in Covent Garden.

【8】　Peter represents the Church of Rome, Martin [Luther], the Church of England, and Jack [Calvin], Protestant dissent.

【9】　Covetousness, ambition and pride.

【10】　'in some way affect the substance'.

【11】　'If the same thing is asserted in the nuncupatory will, it will be rejected.'

【12】　Constantine the Great.

【13】　'On the high mountains of Helicon there is even a tree/Able to kill a man with the foul scent of its flowers.' Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, 6.774-5.

【14】　i.e. purgatory.

【15】　Penance and absolution.

【16】　Confession.

【17】　Indulgences.

【18】　Holy water.

【19】　'Covered with assorted feathers ... Ends below in the shape of a dark fish.' Horace, Ars Poetica (Epistula III), 2-4.

【20】　'It convinces me to bear any kind of task/And leads me to keep watch through the calm of the night.' Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, 1.141-2.

【21】　'I can scarcely believe that this writer has ever felt the force of passion.'

【22】　'Touching everything with the allure of the Muses.' Lucretius, De Return Natura, 4.9.

【23】　But whose genitals were gross, reaching to their ankles.

【24】　'May guiding fortune keep such a fate far from us.' Lucretius, De Return Natura, 5.108.

【25】　Henri IV of France.

【26】　'The body lusts after that which makes it sick with love:/It strives, and stretches, towards it, and longs to join with it.' Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, 4.1047 and 1054.

【27】　'The most terrible cause of war'.

【28】　Louis XIV of France.

【29】　'You should be pleased that you have arrived at a place where you seem to be a man of some wisdom.' Cicero, Epistulae ad Farniliares, 7.10.

【30】　Here much is missing.

【31】　'Cornutus'='horned' or 'shining' (Exodus).

【32】　'Wealth that is abundant comes from his tears, wealth that is lustrous from his laughter, and wealth that is unpredictable from his sadness and fear.'

【33】　Something is missing.

【34】　'Wayward Proteus will still escape his chains.' Horace, Satires, 2.3.71.

【35】　Charles II.

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

淑女之城（中文版）
淑女之城（英文版）
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企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

淑女之城

（英汉双语）

［法］克里斯蒂娜·德·皮桑　著

［英］罗莎琳德·布朗－格兰特　英译

钟　婧　汉译

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淑女之城：英汉双语／（法）皮桑著；钟婧译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3887-7

Ⅰ．①淑…　Ⅱ．①皮…②钟…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物②女性—修养—通俗读物　Ⅳ．①H319.4:B

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《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world—particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling—to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published—where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages—there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear—most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca—few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer—our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas—these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas—indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series—for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

淑女之城
（中文版）

淑女之城（中文版）
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译者导读

在西方文学中，厌女症（misogyny，或译为女性贬抑）由来已久。简而言之，这是一种在文学作品中歪曲事实、诟病女性并把一切罪过都归因到女性身上的思想。例如将女性说成是劣等子宫的产物，以及认为女性是人类罪恶的根源，甚至连男性的堕落也完全是由女性造成的，等等。这种对于女性的贬低由古希腊文学发端，贯穿了西方文学和宗教史，18、19世纪的哲学大师康德、黑格尔、叔本华和尼采等，也都曾在著作中表现出对女性的厌恶。

本书正是写作于14世纪这样一个视女性为敌并肆意贬低践踏的时代。克里斯蒂娜·德·皮桑（Christine de Pizan, 1365—1430），出生于早期文艺复兴时代的威尼斯，幼年随受聘于法王查理五世的父亲搬到法国，在宫廷中长大。她被公认为是欧洲历史上第一位以写作为生的职业女作家，其诗歌和散文在她所处的时代就已得到高度评价。但是不同于文艺复兴时期的人文主义文学家和艺术家，克里斯蒂娜的作品并非系统地研究或阐释反封建思想，而是通过贴近现实生活的思考，从社会实际出发，以通俗易懂的方式提出了一些具有启蒙性的观点。

在本书中，她将女性划分为淑女（ladies）和一般女性（women），并用纸墨为前者建立了一个理想王国。被选入这个文字城市的女性并非由出身门第决定，而是因为各自具有过人的美德，如智慧、勇敢、忠贞、慷慨、虔诚，等等。她通过列举一百多位从神话传说到现实生活中具有过人才智和优秀品质的女性，来逐一驳斥历来男性作者们对女性各方面能力和特质的扭曲，代替女性群体发出了自信的呼声。与此同时，她也并未放弃在能力和修养上尚有待努力的广大一般女性，在书的最后，她呼吁全体女性都按照自己的社会地位，以美德和城中淑女为榜样和目标去完善自己及自己的生活。

当时社会对女性的定位，是传统道德中的辅助作用，如协助丈夫管理庄园、财产和仆人，勤俭持家，帮助丈夫匡正品行等，因此她劝诫女性们要遵循这些准则，逃离爱情的骗局，端正谈吐、谨言慎行。同时她承认社会等级的差异，建议贵族、中产阶级和平民女性都按照各自的社会阶层来扶助甚至容忍丈夫，以达到家庭的和睦和生活的平静。在书中，由代表着女性三种美德的理性、正直和公正女神指导克里斯蒂娜用智慧的铁锹挖走诟病的腐土、以历代淑女的事迹为基石所建立起来的“淑女之城”，正是她理想中可以彰显女性光辉、并从无端指责中保护她们的完美之地。

时至今日，女性如何在事业进取心与家庭责任感、职业发展与家庭生活之间取得平衡，依旧是时常困扰她们的问题。除了制度和文化的因素之外，女性对于自身潜能的肯定、摒除对于自身定位的内心障碍，充满自信地积极进取，方是最重要的内在条件和动力。因此，回溯克里斯蒂娜这部在男性占统治地位的社会中，敢于率先展现女性优良品质、提高女性对自己性别的自信和自觉的先驱性作品，对于我们今天思考女性如何规划自己独特的人生轨迹、追求恰当的人生目标，如何与男性互相配合实现社会的两性平等与和谐，依然有着重要的启示意义。

第一部分

1．由此开始《淑女之城》的第一章，讲述本书写作的缘由与目的

一日，我如常坐在书房中被各类书籍包围着，因为追求知识已成了我长久以来的习惯。在跟研习已久的几位作者的鸿篇巨著奋战了一整日之后，我开始感到有些厌倦。我从书中抬起头，决定放下这些艰深的大作，转向诗人的作品来找点浅显有趣的读物。在寻找部头小点的书时，我刚巧看到了一本虽不属于我但正由我保管着的书。我打开书，看到作者是马太奥鲁斯［1］就笑着选了它，因为虽然没读过，但听说过这本书跟其他书不同，是赞扬女性的。这时刚巧到了晚饭时间，我几乎还没有开始看，亲爱的妈妈就已经叫我下楼吃饭了。我于是放下它，决定第二天再读。

第二天早上，我再次习惯性地坐在书房里，想起了前一日打算看看的马太奥鲁斯的那本书，于是再次拿起书读了一点。但是看到它俗不可耐的言语和内容，我觉得大概只有那些喜欢看造谣中伤的人才会对此感兴趣，而对那些希望追求美德或改进自身道德标准的人来说，应该是毫无裨益的。我快速浏览到结尾，然后决定转向那些更有价值和裨益的作品。但因为看过了这本我认为没什么权威性的书，一个离奇的想法在我脑海中开始生根，并让我想弄明白，到底为什么这么多男人，包括有学识的男人在内，长久以来都针对女人和她们的作风不断记述着如此可怕的东西。我无法解释这一点。这不只是一小批作者，也不只是马太奥鲁斯这本既不权威又不会被认真看待的书，而是不可计数的哲学家、诗人和演说家都持有的态度，他们众口一词、毫无异议地认为，女人的天性就是容易屈服于恶习。

我一遍一遍地思考着这些观念，然后开始检视自身和行为，并以此为例。为了毫无偏见地公平判断这么多著名的男人是否是错的，我也回想了一下我认识的其他女性，包括很多贵妇以及不计其数的社会各阶层的女性们，她们都曾跟我分享过个人内心的想法。不论我怎么看、如何想这个问题，我都依旧无法从生活中找到任何证据来证明这个对女性天性和习惯的负面评价。即使如此，由于我几乎找不到任何作者的任何一本道德方面的书里没有那么几个章节在攻击女性，我不得不接受了他们对女人不利的意见，因为这么多有学识、有着杰出智慧和对事物有见地的男人，不太可能在这么多地方都撒了谎。基于这个简单的论点，我不得不承认这些男人应该是对的，尽管我的理解还很粗浅，并且仍然没有看到我和其他女人身上存在的重大缺陷。比起自己的判断和经验，我就这样相信了他人作出的结论。

我长时间反复地咀嚼着这些想法，以至于陷入了深度的恍惚。当我试图回忆所有写过这类主题的作者时，脑中充满了无数的名字。我于是得出结论，当神创造女人时，他的确是创造了一件卑下的事物。我震惊于这样一位精细的造物主居然会做出这样一个骇人听闻的东西，它就如这些作者所说的那样，是一个收集和保存所有罪孽与邪恶的容器。这个想法让我极其难过和恶心，于是我因为这些天性上的偏差开始鄙视我自己以及所有女性了。

随着一声长叹，我向神呼唤道：“主啊，这怎么可能？除非承认信仰的错误，否则我不能怀疑您会在您无限的智慧和无瑕的好意之中，去创造任何不好的东西。难道不是您特地亲手创造了女人，然后给了她所有您希望她拥有的品质吗？但女人不仅仅是被指控了，而且已经被审判、定罪和判决了！我只是不能理解这个矛盾而已。主啊，如果女人真的如众多男人所指责的那样，是如此可怕的罪孽，并且如您自己所说的两个以上的证人即可定罪［2］的话，我还怎么能够去怀疑他们所说的话？主啊，为什么我没有生为男人，这样我所有的渴望就是去服侍您，把万事都做正确，以成为男人们所自称的完美生物？既然您决定了不给予我这样的慈悲，亲爱的主，那么若我没能像所应当的那样去服侍您，就请原谅我和赦免我，因为报酬低的仆人对主人负有的义务也相应更少。”

我十分难过地在对神的哀叹中说了许多类似的傻话，因为我觉得我非常不幸地被他赋予了女儿身。

2．克里斯蒂娜讲述三位淑女是如何现身以及第一位是如何开口安慰悲痛中的她的

我沉浸在痛苦的思绪中，脸颊贴着手靠在椅子扶手上，满含泪水羞愧地低下头。突然之间，我看到一道如日光般的光线照射到腿上。我像从熟睡中惊醒那样吃了一惊，因为在这个时间太阳是不可能照进我书房的。在我抬头追寻光的源头时，眼前忽然出现了三位头戴皇冠的淑女，她们穿戴举止庄重，面庞散发的光芒照亮了我和我身边的一切。你可以想象，当看到她们能如此直接进入一个门窗紧闭的屋子时，我该有多么惊诧。我害怕是幽灵要引诱我，于是迅速地在额前画了个十字。

三位淑女中最前方的一位率先笑着跟我说道：“我亲爱的孩子，别害怕。我们不是来伤害你的，正相反，我们是由于怜悯你的不幸，来安慰你的。你仅仅因为有太多的人反对，就去否定那些自己确信的真理，我们希望能够帮你摆脱这些困扰着你的误解。你就像是笑话里的傻瓜，朋友们趁他在磨坊里睡着时给他穿上了女人的衣服，醒来之后设法让他相信了自己是女人，尽管一切的证据都指向了相反的那面！我亲爱的孩子，你的判断力到哪里去了？你忘记百炼才能成金的道理了吗？你忘记只有最美好的事物才最惹人争议了吗？现在把你的思路转到最高层次的领域，也就是抽象领域上，回想一下你所叙述的那些抨击女人的哲人们是否曾被证伪。事实上，他们都一直在互相攻击对方的观点，就像你读的亚里士多德的《形而上学》中，他是如何讨论和反对他人，包括柏拉图在内的观点的。也不要忘记‘教会圣师’们［3］，特别是被誉为最伟大的道德和自然哲学作者的圣奥古斯丁［4］，他们在某些问题上是全盘否定亚里士多德的。你似乎把哲学家的所有观点都当成是真理而无条件地完全接受了。

“至于你提到的诗作，你得明白它们有时候写得和寓言一样，需要从字面意思的相反面去理解。所以你应该按照反语法来读这些书，它有时候需要从正面去理解一些看似负面的话，有时候正相反。我建议你就照这样去读那些抨击女性的段落，不论作者原本的观点是什么，都把它们转化为正面的理解。马太奥鲁斯或许也正希望他的书是被这样去读的，因为他还有一些段落若只从字面上看简直就是彻底的异端邪说。至于当那些作者们——不仅是马太奥鲁斯，还包括更有权威的《玫瑰传奇》［5］的作者——在说神赐的神圣婚姻生活之所以让人无法忍受都是因为女人的时候，你的经验就应该已经告诉你他们是完全错误的了。哪个丈夫曾经如这些作者所说的那样，给予过妻子高于自己的权力，让她们可以来侮辱和玷污自己？相信我，无论你在书中读到什么，你都从未确实地看到这种事，因为它纯粹就是一些离谱的谎言。我亲爱的朋友，我必须说，是你的天真使你相信他们的话都是真理。找回你的判断力，别再用这些愚蠢的念头困扰你自己了。让我来告诉你，那些说女人坏话的人，对自己的伤害要远远超过对于他们所诟病的女人所造成的伤害。”

……

8．克里斯蒂娜讲解理性女神是如何帮助她开始挖地建地基的

理性女神回答我道：“现在站起来吧，孩子，让我们即刻前往文字之地。那里硕果累累、清溪流淌，充满了各种美好的事物，我们将在那平坦而丰饶的土地上建起淑女之城。拿好你智慧的铁锹，按照我划好的线深挖成壑，我会帮你把土扛走。”

我遵从她的指示站了起来：感谢这三位女神，我感觉身体比以前更强壮而轻盈了。她领头走在前面，我跟随着她到了所述的地点，按照指示开始用智慧的铁锹挖土。我劳动的第一个果实如下：“我的女神，我记得你之前用熔炉炼金来比喻那些男作者们对女人的全力攻击。我把这个比喻理解为，女人越被批判，她们的光彩就越被磨砺。但是请告诉我，为什么会有这么多作者在作品中攻击女人呢，因为如果我理解正确的话，这样做明明是错误的。这是天性女神让他们这么做的吗？如果说是因为憎恨，那又该怎么解释？”

理性女神回答我的问题道：“我亲爱的孩子，为了帮你把事情看得更清楚，让我把这第一筐土送走。我可以告诉你，天性女神绝没有让他们诟病女人，而是恰恰相反。世上没有什么会比天性女神遵照神的愿望赋予男女之间的联系更为牢固和紧密的了。实际上，有很多其他的原因可以解释为什么男人，包括那些你提到的作者们，一直以来都在攻击女人。有些人从好的意愿出发去批判女性：他们希望拯救那些被堕落的女人控制了的男人们，或者是防止其他人落入相同的命运，同时推而广之地鼓励男人们不要过贪婪和不道德的生活。他们因而攻击所有的女人，以试图说服男人们去反感女性这个性别。”

“我的女神，”我说道，“请原谅我打断你。他们因为有好的出发点，这么做就是对的了吗？人们行为的正误是由出发点所决定的吗？”

“你错了，好孩子，”她回答说，“因为单纯的无知是没有借口的。如果我出于好意和愚蠢而杀了你，我就是正确的了吗？无论是什么人，这么做都是在滥用他们的权力。为了第三方获利而去攻击另一方是不公平的。批判所有女人的天性也是一样完全没有道理的，我用类比来给你解释这一点。为了帮助一些误入歧途的男人放弃愚蠢的行为而去谴责所有的女人，就像火明明是维持生命所必需的好元素，只是因为有些人被烧伤了就去控告它一样，或者像因为有些人淹死了就去诅咒水一样。你可以把同样的道理推广到所有有着正反两面效果的事物上。在这种情况下，如果有蠢人错误地使用了它们，受到责备的都不应该是这些东西本身。你在自己的其他作品里已经指出过这一点了。那些坚持全盘否定看法的人，无论是出于好意还是恶意，都是为表达自己的观点而做过头了。这就像是有人拿整匹的布来给自己做一件巨大的外衣，仅仅因为它是免费的，也没有其他人出来反对。但这就阻止了其他人再来使用这匹布料。你自己其实也做过正确的评价：如果相反地，这些作者只是试图通过攻击那些确实有道德和习惯问题的人来拯救耽溺色欲的男人，我相信他们就能创作出非常有意义的作品来了。确实没有比一个放荡而堕落的女人更可怕的事物了：她就像是一个怪物，一个违背了她羞怯、温顺而纯洁的本性的生物。我可以向你保证，那些无视这么多高尚的妇女而去谴责女性有罪的作者们，绝对没有经过我的准许。他们自己铸成了大错，而那些相信了他们观点的人亦然。就让我们从你的著作中剔除这些可怕、丑陋又畸形的石头吧，因为它们在你美丽的城市里是不该有立足之地的。

“其他男人则出于不同的理由批评女人：有些是因为他们自己沉浸在了罪恶中，有些是因为有生理障碍，有些纯粹是因为嫉妒，有些仅仅是喜欢从诽谤他人中获得乐趣。还有一些人这么做是想炫耀自己的博学：他们在书中看到了这些观点，就想引用这些作者的话。

“那些批判女人生来即为邪恶的人，正是一些把青春浪费在了放浪形骸上、跟不同的女人有过风流韵事的男人。这些男人从各种经历中学会了狡诈，而且从不去忏悔自己的行为。他们其实对年轻时的荒唐行为还相当留恋，现在终于上了年纪，依然有心却已无力，只能悔恨地感到自己的‘好日子’一去不复返，眼睁睁地看着那些年轻的男人们夺走他们得不到手的东西。他们唯一能缓解自己挫折感的方式，就是攻击女人和试图阻止其他人去享受他们曾享受过的东西。你经常看到老头儿们走来走去说着粗俗可鄙的话，比如你说的马太奥鲁斯就很直率地承认自己只是个仍然想满足自身欲望的虚弱老人。他是个能解释我观点的非常好的例子，因为他正是这类情况里的一个典型。

“但是感谢神明，并非所有的老年男人都是堕落的和像麻风病人一样病入膏肓的。还是有一些上等体面的人，他们的智慧和美德是由我养育的，他们用高尚而冷静的方式说话，其话语就可以反映自身的优秀品性。这样的男人是痛恨一切错误和诽谤的。因此他们并不会去攻击和诋毁某一个罪人，无论是男是女，而是会一视同仁地谴责所有的罪恶。他们给人的建议是避开恶习、追求美德并坚持坦率。

“那些因为自身身体缺陷而攻击女人的男人，比如有阳痿或畸形的，他们的想法都很扭曲而且愤愤不平。他们唯一可以补偿机体无能的乐趣就是攻击女性，因为她们可以给其他男人带来快乐。这样他们就能确保别人也不去享受他们从未享受过的快乐。

“那些因为嫉妒而攻击女人的男人，其实通常都明白女性比他们更具有智慧和美德。这种嫉妒的男人出于愤怒和怨恨而去攻击所有女人，觉得这样他们就可以破坏她们的名声和品性了，正如那个写了《关于哲学》的我忘记名字的作者一样。在那本书里，他花了大量的篇幅来争辩男人根本不该赞美女性，而那些去赞美的男人都违背了他那本书的标题：这些人把追求智慧的‘哲学’变成了追求愚蠢的‘愚学’。但是我可以向你保证，因为那些错误推理和荒谬结论，他自己其实才正是‘愚学’的典范。

“至于那些本性就喜欢造谣中伤的男人去攻击女性则一点也不奇怪，因为他们会一样地攻击所有人。你可以相信我，任何蓄意攻击女性的男人都是出于他自己的邪念，因为这种行为是跟理性和天性背道而驰的。说他与理性作对，是因为他绝不会感激和承认女人们从过去到现在都在为他付出，那些美好而不可或缺的事物远远多于他可以回馈的；说他与天性作对，是因为连鸟和兽都会自然地爱它们的伴侣，也就是雌性的动物。所以当一个理性的男人不去爱女人时，他就是在严重地违反自己的天性。

“最后，还有那些对著作浅尝辄止的人，他们满足于从比自己强得多的作者的顶尖作品里拾人牙慧。他们觉得这样做自己就不会被人批评，因为他们只是在重述别人说过的观点。相信我，这就是他们为什么会去造谣中伤的原因。有些人写下拙劣的胡言乱语，或是既不押韵又没思想的诗作，去评论女人、贵妇或其他人，而实际上品行不端的正是他们自己，他们才是最需要去提升道德水平的人。然后，那些跟他们一样无知的普通人，就会以为这些是他们所读过的最好的作品。”

9．克里斯蒂娜是如何挖土的：换句话说，她是如何向理性女神发问和得到回答的

“现在我已经把给你的任务准备好了，你可以按照我划好的线开始挖地基了。”

遵循理性女神寄予的希望，我用全力开始阐述：“我的女神，为什么最伟大的诗人奥维德［6］（尽管包括我自己在内的其他人会认为维吉尔［7］更适合那个荣誉，如果你不介意我直说的话），在他的如《爱的艺术》、《爱情三论》等作品中，作过这么多贬低女人的评价？”

理性女神回答说：“奥维德对作诗的理论和实践都非常熟悉，他细腻的思想使他擅长写自己所写的任何领域。但是，他的身体却沾染了各种庸俗和肉欲的恶习：他和很多女人有过绯闻，因为他完全没有节制的概念，也不会对任何人献出忠心。他整个青年时期都是这样度过的，于是自食其果：不仅丧失了名誉和财产，甚至还丧失了一部分肢体！他不仅自己极其淫乱，还鼓励别人做同样的事，因而最终被流放。他的追随者中有一些是在罗马有影响力的年轻人，他虽然被他们从流放中救了回来，但依旧无法避免再次陷入同样的境地。所以他最后因不道德的行为而被阉割了。他是另一个证明我刚刚叙述的观点的好例子：当他发现自己再也无法沉溺于以前的快乐中时，就开始用狡诈的评论来攻击女性，希望其他人也能鄙视她们。”

“我的女神，你的话确实是真理。但我也看到一个意大利作家叫作阿斯科里［8］，如果我记得没错的话，来自于马尔谢［9］或托斯卡纳［10］。他在作品里说了一些比我读过的任何东西都要糟糕的，让人非常不悦的话，我觉得任何人在任何情况下，都不该去复述这些话。”

理性女神的回答是：“我亲爱的孩子，不必意外阿斯科里会因为仇恨和鄙视而去诽谤所有女性。出于无法形容的邪念，他希望所有男人对于女人都能有跟他一样的肮脏看法。他也同样落得了他应有的下场：由于他传播的异端邪说，他在柱刑上耻辱地死去了。”

“我的女神，我还看到了另一本拉丁文的小书，叫作《关于女人的秘密》，里面说女人的身体生来就在各个方面都是有缺陷的次品。”

理性女神回答道：“你只需要看看自己的身体就足以明白，这本书完全是充满了谎言的捏造。虽然有人把它溯源到亚里士多德，但说一个像他那样伟大的哲学家能有如此骇人听闻的谬论，还是欠考虑的。任何读过这本书的女人都能看到，它的很多叙述都和她们的自身经历完全相反，因此可以相应地推论出其他部分也是一样不可信的。不知道你还记不记得开头的地方，他说了某个主教把所有将这本书念给女人听或者给她们看的男人都驱逐出教的事？”

“是的，我的女神，我记得那个段落。”

“你知道是什么样的邪恶动机促使他把这么卑鄙的一段放在书的开头，让那些易受骗的愚蠢男人去读？”

“不知道，我的女神，请你赐教。”

“这是因为他不希望女人们能读到这本书，或者是听到别人读给她们，以免沦为她们的笑柄，或者指出它是多么地一钱不值。他以为用了这个诡计，就可以骗过那些想读他的书的男人了。”

“我的女神，我似乎记得，他在长篇累牍地阐述女孩是虚弱或有瑕疵的子宫的产物之后，宣称天性女神也为自己创造出了这样的残次品而感到羞愧。”

“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，得出这些结论的人，很明显是完全不理智地被误导了吧？首先，作为上帝仆从的天性女神，怎么可能比她力量的来源、自己的主人还要强大？全能的上帝全心全意地创造了男人和女人。当他将神意付诸实施，用大马士革的泥土创造了亚当之后，就让他住进了这卑贱地上最高贵的伊甸园。他让亚当在这里安睡，用他的一条肋骨创造了女性的躯体。这预示了女人天生是陪伴在男人身边的人，男人则应该把她作为一体同心的自身去爱，而绝非是匍匐于他脚前的奴隶。如果连神圣的创造者本身都不认为创造了女性形态是件羞耻的事情，那天性女神为什么会如此认为呢？想不到这一层的人可真是愚蠢到一定程度了。此外，女人又是怎样被创造出来的呢？我不知道你是否意识到了，但她其实也同样复制了神的形象。谁竟敢如此无礼，去说拥有这样神圣原型的事物的坏话？当然也有足够愚蠢的人坚持说，神按照自己的形象造人，指的是他的躯体本身。这也一样并非事实，因为那个时候神还没有变化成人形，所以必须得澄清，这个复制指的是他的灵魂，是那无形的才智使得人从生到死都可与神相似。他把他的灵魂同时赋予了男性和女性，并且使两性都同等的高尚和纯洁。回到我们正在讨论的人的躯体是怎样形成的这个话题，女性是被最优秀的造物者一手创造的。那么她究竟是在哪里被创造的呢？毫无疑问是在伊甸园。那么又是用什么造出的？是粗糙的材料么？不，她是从神做出的最好的材料——男性自己的身体——中被创造出来的。”

“我的女神，从你的话中我可以看出，女性是一种非常高贵的生物。但尽管如此，西塞罗［11］不是说过‘男人不应该被女人管制’吗？让女人管了的男人是在贬低自己，因为被比自己低下的人所辖制是错误的。”

理性女神回答道：“无论男女，有德行的人才更高等：人的贵贱不是由性别来区分的，而是由此人能让自己的本性和道德完美到何种程度来决定的。因此服侍圣母的男人是幸福的，因为她的地位比天使还要高。”

“我的女神，老加图［12］，也就是那位伟大的演说家，声称如果女人没有被创造出来的话，男人就可以直接跟众神对话了。”

理性女神的回答是：“现在你看到了一个本是智慧的人却说了蠢话的例子了。是因为有了女人，男人才能跟神并肩而坐。至于那些说男人是因为叫夏娃的女人才被从伊甸园赶出去的，我的回答是，男人从圣母玛利亚那里所得到的，要远远比他因夏娃而失去的多得多。现在人类已经跟神合为一体，若夏娃没有犯错，这就是不可能的。男人和女人都应该去赞美夏娃的这个错误，正是因为她，这个荣耀才能降临在他们头上。如果人性曾因为上帝创造的一个生物的行为而崩坏，那它就已经被这个生物本身赎还了。至于像老加图说的，如果男性没有女性就能跟神对话了，他的话比他自己预想的还要正确。作为一个异教徒，他和跟他信仰相同的人们认为天堂和地狱都是由神来统治的，只是我们把地狱里的称为恶魔。所以说，如果没有圣母，男人就可以直接跟地狱里的神明对话，这是完全正确的！”

……

11．克里斯蒂娜问理性女神为什么女人不能出现在法庭上以及理性女神的回答

“我最正直可敬的女神啊，你出色的论点满足了我在众多领域里的好奇心。若不介意的话，你能否再解释一下为什么女人在审讯中既不被允许去起诉，也不可以作证，甚至都不能传递信息？有些男人宣称这都是源于一些女人在法庭中曾经的举止不端。”

“我亲爱的孩子，这个荒谬的故事是彻头彻尾的蓄意捏造。但如果你希望知道万事背后的原因和理由的话，你是永远也不可能追溯到头的。就算是亚里士多德，即便他在《论问题》和《范畴论》里解释了那么多，也依旧无法做到这一点。但是亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，回到你的问题上，你或许同样会问上帝为什么没有让男人去做女人的工作，以及让女人做男人的事情。这个问题可以这样回答，就像一个聪慧精明的主人把他的家产分为不同的部分，并把他的工人们也严格分工那样，上帝与此类似地创造了男人和女人，以便从不同的角度服侍他，并且让他们相互帮助和安慰。最后，他给了不同的性别以实现各自目的所必需的品质和特点，即使有时候人类并不尊重这种区别。神给了男人健壮有力的身躯来阔步探寻和大胆发言，这就解释了为什么是男人们在学习法律和进行执法。在那些拒绝遵守法律的情况中，男人们会通过武装和体力来强制执行，而女人们是无法做到这点的。即使上帝也经常赋予很多女性以杰出的智慧，但她们依旧不可以抛弃一贯的谦逊跑到法庭去上诉，因为已经有足够多的男人在做这件事了。为什么要让三个人去做两个人就已经游刃有余的事呢？

“但是，如果有人说这是因为女人的聪明才智不够去学习法律，我就要引用从古到今无数优秀女性的例子来反驳他们了，她们是杰出的哲学家，或在很多远远难于单纯学习一下法律条文的领域里出人头地。我接下来会给你讲述这些例子。同时为了回答那些觉得女人缺乏明智管理或建立良好习惯的能力的人，我会举一些历史上可敬的淑女们的例子，她们完全有驾驭这些的能力。为了让你能更清楚我在说些什么，我也会给你列举一些你同时代的寡妇，她们在丈夫过世后对家产的组织和管理完全证明了智慧的女人能够在任何领域成功。”

12．关于示巴女王［13］

“如果可以的话请告诉我，你是否曾经读到过一个国王，他有比示巴女王更优秀的治理手段、政治才能和公正人品，并且还掌管着一个更为宏大的法庭？在她统治之下的广袤无垠的土地，是从她的祖先，那些被称为法老的著名国王那里继承下来的。但是，是这位女性第一次在她的疆土上创建了法律和道德规范，也就此终结了这个国家的原始形态，甚至包括埃塞俄比亚的野蛮习俗。那些描写过示巴女王的作者都特别称赞了她把文明带入治下的举措。她是法老的后代，继承了包括阿拉伯、埃塞俄比亚、埃及和位于尼罗河中游的肥沃的麦罗埃岛［14］在内的广袤疆土。她以典范性的才能管理着自己的疆域。关于这位女性我还有什么可说的吗？示巴女王非常聪颖和强大，甚至连圣经都提到了她出众的能力。她自己建立了用来治理民众的法律。她的高贵和富有，超越了尘世间的所有男人。她对于艺术和科学都十分精通，并且以自己从未去屈尊嫁人，或未曾希望任何男人陪伴在她身边为荣。”

……

14．克里斯蒂娜和理性女神之间更多的讨论和辩论

“我的女神，你说得非常好，你的话语有如音乐般悦耳。但是，如果不管我们刚刚谈到的才智，那么无法否认，女性从本质上来说还是懦弱的生物，她们有着柔软脆弱的躯体，并且缺乏强健的体力。男人们就因为这些说女人是低等和低价值的。在他们看来，如果一个人的身体在某种意义上残缺的话，这就破坏并降低了他或她的道德水准，那么也就因此而不值得去赞赏了。”

理性女神的回答是：“我亲爱的孩子，这是一个完全站不住脚的错误结论。如果天性女神没能让一个躯体跟她所创造的其他人一样完美，无论是在形体上还是外貌上、体力上或者肢体上，她通常都会用更多的优秀来补偿他的缺失。比如说，伟大的哲学家亚里士多德常被说成是长相丑陋的，因为他的脸是扭曲的，而且一只眼睛比另一只低。但他若确实是畸形的话，那么从他的作品可以看出来，显然天性女神用非凡的才智补偿了他。对他而言，拥有这样超凡的智慧是比拥有像押沙龙［15］一样完美的躯体更有意义的。

“亚历山大大帝也是一样，他非常矮小、丑陋又孱弱，但众所周知，他有着非凡的勇气。其他很多人也都是这样。相信我，我亲爱的朋友，一个完整强健的身体并不一定有着勇敢无畏的心。勇气是从自然的生命活力中产生的，这种力量是上帝允许天性女神赠予那些理性出众的人的天赋。这种力量存在于精神和心中，而不是存在于肉体和四肢的力量中。你经常看到彪悍健壮的男人是可怜的胆小鬼，而其他娇小孱弱的男人却很勇敢和坚韧。这也同样适用于其他的道德品质。关于勇气和体质，上帝或天性女神都没有打算通过剥夺女性的这些价值来歧视她们。与此相反，女人们在这方面的不足其实是很幸运的，因为她们至少不会有骇人听闻的残酷行径，比如从古到今的男人都有足够力气去进行谋杀和使用暴行，更不会因此而受到责罚。如果那些男人们的灵魂能在柔弱的女性身体里过一辈子，或许倒是一件好事。回到我正在说的事上，我确信天性女神若决定了不去赋予女性以强健的体魄，那她就会补偿给她们最善良的品性：对上帝的敬爱和对违背神谕的恐惧。没有这样去做的女人是违背了自己本性的。

“但是，亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，你应该注意到了，神也明确地想向男人证明，虽然女人普遍来说没有他们身强力壮和富有勇气，但这并不意味着女性整体都缺乏这种素质。实际上有一些女性展示了足够的魄力、体力和勇气来完成了惊人的壮举，完全可以跟史书中提到的伟大征服者和武士们匹敌。之后我就给你举一个这样的例子。

“我可爱的孩子和亲爱的朋友，我已经给你准备好了一条宽阔的沟渠，并亲自肩挑手提把土都运走了。现在该你往沟中填上沉重坚固的石块，来构成淑女之城的地基了。以你的笔为铲，抖擞精神开始建筑吧。下面就是一块很不错的结实的石头，我希望你能把它作为筑城的第一块基石。你知道连天性女神都用占星预言了这块石头应该被放在这里了吗？稍稍往后退一步，我来帮你把它放入位。”

……

16．关于亚马逊人

“在欧洲大陆附近的广阔海洋中有一个叫作塞西亚［16］的国家。有一次，男人们都在战争中阵亡了，当女人们看到自己失去了丈夫、兄弟和男性亲属，只有幼小男孩和老年男子还幸存之后，就鼓起勇气召集了一个妇女议会，决定从今往后由自己来领导自己的国家，不再受男人的管束。她们公布法令禁止任何男人出入她们的领地，但为了能维持种族延续，她们自己可以在每年的特定时间出入邻国。如果生了男婴就把他送回父亲那里，女婴则自己抚养。为了维护这个法律，她们选了出身最高贵的两位淑女为女王，一位叫作蓝佩朵，另一位叫作马佩西娅。她们很快把国内剩下的男人都驱逐出境，接着从长到幼都武装起来投入战斗，在她们的国土上奋勇杀敌，把所有的敌人都赶尽杀绝了。简单来说，她们为丈夫们的死报了仇。

“就这样，塞西亚的女人们开始武装自己。她们后来被称为亚马逊人，意思是‘去掉了一个乳房的民族’。她们的传统是使用只有本族女性知道的秘术，贵族女孩在儿时去掉左乳房来携带盾牌，非贵族的女孩们则去掉右乳房以便操控弓箭。她们非常崇尚武力，所以通过战争极大地扩张了领土，并且名声远播。回到之前的话题，这两位女王每人带领了一支出色的军队在许多国家作战，并且成功占领了欧洲和亚洲的很大一部分地区，征服了很多王国。她们建立了很多城镇，包括亚洲颇有名望的以弗所［17］。两位女王中的马佩西娅最先战死，并由她一个年轻的女儿接替，也就是美丽的贵族未婚少女锡诺普。这位女孩为自己从未跟男人发生过关系而感到骄傲，并且选择到死都维持贞洁。她生命中唯一的真爱和快乐就是追寻武力：她对于战争和扩张从未感到过厌倦。她接连征服敌国，把他们的国土完全踏平、国民杀戮殆尽，以此来痛快淋漓地为母亲报了仇。”

……

27．克里斯蒂娜问理性女神上帝是否赋予了女性最高级的知识以及理性女神的回答

听完理性女神所说的，我回答道：“我的女神，上帝确实令人吃惊地赋予了你所提到的这些女性以超凡的力量。但是你如果不介意的话，请告诉我，在上帝赐予女性的众多品格之中，他是否曾赋予哪位出众的智力和学识。她们是否有学习的天资？我非常想知道，为什么男人们断言妇女是愚钝的。”

理性女神的回答是：“克里斯蒂娜，从我告诉你的可以很明显地看出，事实与他们所说的正相反。为了解释得更清楚一点，我来给你一些总结性的例子。我再重复一下——不要怀疑我的话——如果社会传统就是像对男孩一样地送女孩去上学，并教给她们各种知识，那么她们也会跟男孩一样轻松学会那些困难的艺术和科学知识的。实际上，这也常常是事实，就像我之前提到的，尽管女人的躯体比男人柔弱也没那么灵活，但她们的思想实际上更敏锐，并且更善于接纳新鲜事物。”

“我的女神，你在说什么呀？如果可以的话，我希望你再详细阐述一下。如果我们不能证明这个观点，那就没有一个男人会接受它，因为他们会说男人普遍来说要比女人知道得更多。”

她回答道：“你知道为什么女人比男人要无知一些吗？”

“不知道，我的女神，你得启发我一下。”

“这是因为她们必须得整天待在屋子里来照管家庭，所以较少接触到各种社会经验。没有什么比各式各样的经历和活动更能让理性的人拓宽眼界和智慧了。”

“那么我的女神，如果她们有跟男人一样的学习能力，为什么她们没有因此而更博学呢？”

“我亲爱的孩子，回答是，就像我之前告诉你的一样，让女人抛头露面去做男人该做的事情并不一定能带来什么公众利益。她们去做适合自己的事情则是非常明智的。至于说经验告诉我们女性的智力低于男性，因为身边的女人都比男人知道得少，那就让我们以穷乡僻壤的男性佃农为例吧。你可以列举出相当多的地方，那里的男人们非常落后，所以跟野兽没什么区别。但是毋庸置疑，天性女神也赋予了他们跟城镇里最聪明且有学识的男人们同样完美的头脑和身体，所以这些都是缺乏教育造成的。当然也别忘记我之前说过的，有些男人或女人天生就比其他人更聪颖。我现在就来给你列举一些具有优秀头脑的博学多才的女人，来证明女性跟男性一样聪明。”

28．理性女神从罗马的科尼菲西娅［18］开始谈论博学广识的淑女们

“科尼菲西娅的父母在她小的时候稍稍用了点手段，把她跟她的兄弟科尼菲修斯一起送去上学。这个小姑娘把她超人的智力用在了学习上，并从此开始以学习为乐。让她放弃这种天赋是非常困难的，因为她拒绝了所有通常女性要做的事情，而全身心地投入到书本中去。在刻苦学习之后，她很快就成为了一位出色而博学的诗人，在她如饥似渴地求学的哲学领域也是如此。她非常积极主动地在各个方面出人头地，所以很快超越了她的兄弟，不光是在诗歌上，更是在所有的知识领域里。

“除此之外，她不只满足于学习理论知识，更希望能把她的知识付诸实践。她执笔创作了几部出色的著作，在圣格列高利一世［19］的时代被广为尊重，正如这位教宗在自己的著作中所指出的那样。伟大的意大利作家薄伽丘［20］在他的书中对科尼菲西娅作了这样的评价：‘作为一个女性却放下女人的事情并且投入到学习最伟大的学者的著作中，是多么光荣的一件事。’他接下来的话印证了我所说的，他说那些对自己的智商没有自信的女人们，做起事来就像是出生于荒山野岭一样，没有正确和错误以及道德的观念，放任自己被蒙蔽，还说自己除了照顾男人和生养孩子之外什么也做不了。上帝给了每个女人一副好头脑，如果她愿意的话，能用在所有博学的男人们活跃着的领域里。如果女人愿意去学，这些领域对于她们不会比对于男人来说更难，她们也能够投入足够多的精力来赢得美名，就像最出色的男人们那样。我亲爱的孩子，看看薄伽丘是怎样与我所说的相互呼应的，并注意一下他是多么赞同和欣赏妇女去学习的。”

……

30．关于一位出色的诗人和哲学家莎孚［21］

“跟普罗芭［22］一样博学的莎孚，是一位来自米蒂利尼［23］的未婚女子。这位莎孚非常美丽，言谈举止也很有魅力。但她最出众的特质是出色的智力，她也因此在科学艺术的诸多领域成为了专家。而且她不仅仅是攻读别人的著作，自己也撰写了很多新著。诗人薄伽丘用这样美妙的词语来称颂她：‘莎孚，被她自身的好头脑和求知欲所鞭策，投身到学习中并且超越了广大的无知群众，与帕纳塞斯山［24］比肩；换句话说，她攀登到了知识的顶峰。由于她的魄力和勇敢，她获取了缪斯女神的恩惠；也就是说她沉浸在了科学艺术之中。她跋涉过长满月桂、山楂、各色鲜花香草的茂密丛林，这是语法、逻辑、几何、算术和修辞学的栖息地。她通过这条小径直到知识之神阿波罗的洞穴前，并找到了汨汨流淌的诗之神泉。在那里，她拿起琴拨用竖琴弹奏美妙的歌曲，引来仙女领舞；也就是说，她学到了和弦的美妙与和声学的规则。’

“薄伽丘对莎孚的这些描述，应该被理解为她学习的深度和她著作的博学程度。她的著作极其艰深，就像先哲们指出的那样，即使对最聪明和受过最好教育的男人来说也不那么容易读懂。她的书写得非常精致，至今仍在流传，因而给之后立志诗歌的人们树立了出色的榜样。她发明了很多种新的诗歌形式，包括叙事诗、怨情诗、奇怪爱的挽歌等等由不同情绪所激发的诗歌，它们非常洗练，因而今天被叫作莎孚诗来纪念她。至于她的作品，贺拉斯［25］回忆说在亚里士多德的老师柏拉图去世时，他的枕下就有一本莎孚的诗集。

“长话短说，因为莎孚的学问非常有名，所以她的故里决定在显眼的地方建一尊她的铜像来表彰她在诗歌上的成就。她为自己在最伟大的诗人行列中赢得了一席之地，按薄伽丘的话说，这些诗人的光辉要远比主教的法冠、国王的王冠甚至战争胜利者的棕榈和月桂花环还要耀眼。我可以给你更多这样聪颖女性的例子，比如希腊女性雷翁提乌姆，一位杰出的哲学家，她敢于清晰明了地与当时备受尊重的思想家泰奥弗拉斯托斯辩论。”

……

33．克里斯蒂娜问理性女神是否有女性曾创造过新的知识形态

在听过理性女神的话之后，我，克里斯蒂娜，提起了如下话题：“我的女神，我清楚地看到你可以列举出无数的妇女曾在科学艺术中达到了很高的水平。但是我想问你，是否知道曾有天才的，或具有创造力的，或足够聪颖的女性，能够创造出以前并不存在的崭新的、重要而有用的知识学派。很显然，去学习一个已有的领域，要比发现新的无人知晓的领域容易得多。”

理性女神回答道：“相信我，很多重要或值得尊崇的科学艺术都是由智慧聪颖的女性所发现的，在经由文字叙述的理论科学和需要动手的精巧技艺上都是如此。我现在给你一些例子。

“首先，我来给你讲讲贵族尼科斯特拉塔，意大利人称她为喀尔曼塔。这位淑女是希腊的阿卡迪亚［26］国王帕拉斯的女儿。她非常聪颖，被上帝赐予了智慧的天赋，对希腊文学有着广博的知识，作品聪慧简洁，又非常有口才，所以同时代的诗人们在作品中宣称她是被神使墨丘利所垂青的。他们甚至认为她那早慧的儿子是这位神使的后代，而非她丈夫的孩子。由于家乡的一系列巨变，尼科斯特拉塔跟儿子和一群追随他们的人一起，乘坐大型船队由台伯河［27］溯流而上开往意大利。她在那里登陆，并爬上她后来为纪念她父亲而命名为帕拉蒂尼的山丘［28］。在后来建成了罗马的这座山丘上，她和儿子以及追随者们建起了自己的城堡。她发现当地土著人非常原始，就帮他们建立了一些规则，并且鼓励他们过公正理性的生活。所以她是第一位在这个后来以法理系统著称的国家里建立起法律的人，而后来的法律也几乎都源于这套系统。

“在尼科斯特拉塔的特质中，还有神圣的预言能力。她因而可以预见到她所继承的国家有朝一日会成为世界上最伟大和最繁荣的疆土。所以在她看来，这个以后必将征服世界的最优秀的国家，不该使用外来的低劣粗糙的文字。此外，尼科斯特拉塔也希望能把她的智慧和知识，以合适的方式传授给未来的世代。因此她开始着手创造一套与其他国家都不一样的崭新的字母体系。被她创造出来的就是ABC，即拉丁字母，以及造词规则、元音与辅音的区别和语法的基础。她把这些知识和文字传授给了人们，希望它们能广为流传。这位淑女的发明已经不能再伟大了，我们对她的感谢更不能被一笔带过。这一设计精巧的科学被证明极为有用，并给世界带来了极其多的好处，所以我们可以很诚实地说，没有比这更为高贵的发明了。

“意大利人并不缺乏对这美好礼物的感激之情，这一点做得非常正确。他们认为这是不可思议的发明，因而对她比对任何男人都要尊崇，在尼科斯特拉塔／喀尔曼塔的有生之年都把她当作女神一样崇拜着。在她去世时，他们建造了一个寺庙来纪念她，就坐落于她建城的山丘脚下。为了让她能流芳百世，他们借用了她创造的科学中的一些词汇，甚至还用她的名字来命名事物。比如为了纪念她发明的拉丁语，全国人都自称为拉丁人。此外，因为ita在拉丁语中是最重要的肯定词，就像法语里的oui一样，所以他们不仅把自己的疆土叫作拉丁，还更进一步用‘意大利（Italy）’来指代超越了国境的广袤土地，包括许多不同的区域和王国。从这位淑女的名字Carmentis，他们演化出了拉丁词carmen，意思是‘歌’。即使是在她之后很久登陆的罗马人，也把一个城门命名为‘卡曼塔里斯门（Porta Carmentalis）’。这些名字流传至今，不论罗马如何繁荣昌盛或是由哪位强大的皇帝当政，这些都未曾改变过。

“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，你还能有更多的要求吗？还有人认为有任何男人可以与她比肩吗？不过别以为她是唯一一位曾经创造过很多知识领域的女性……”

34．关于一位创造了无数新技术包括用钢铁制造武器的女性弥涅耳瓦［29］

“就像你看到的那样，弥涅耳瓦是一位希腊女性，也被叫作帕拉斯。这位姑娘极为聪颖，所以她那个时代的人傻傻地把她奉为了天上来的女神：因为他们不知道她的父母是谁，而她的所作所为又都是前无古人的创举。就像薄伽丘指出的一样，他们对于她的出身越是一无所知，就越对她比任何同时代女人都优秀的智慧感到惊诧。她把她超凡的技巧和独创性运用在了诸多领域。首先，她天才地创造了希腊字母速记法，可以用最简短的篇幅记下最多的内容。这个绝妙的发明至今还被希腊人使用着。她还创造了数字以及用它们去数数和快速计算的方法。简单来说，她天才地发明了很多前所未有的艺术和技能，包括制作羊毛和布料的技术。是她最早产生了剪羊毛的想法，并发明了用各种不同的工具来给羊毛松解、开松和梳理等整套流程，以及除去杂毛、在金属尖端上粉碎纤维并捻到拉线棒上的方法，还有把羊毛织成布料所需的工具。

“同样，她发现了如何从橄榄里榨油，以及从其他果实里榨取果汁的方法。

“同样，她发明了手推车和战车，以便运送东西。

“同样，这位淑女的一项发明更不像是女性会想到的，即锻造武士们在战场上用以杀敌的钢铁武器和护身盔甲的技术。她把这项技术教给了雅典的人民，同时也教会他们组织成军队，以及以部队形式的作战。

“同样，她发明了长笛、竖笛、小号和其他管乐器。

“这位淑女不仅非常智慧，也极其纯洁，保持了一生的贞洁。正因为她的极端纯洁，诗人们在诗作中说她与火神伏尔甘长期对抗，并最终战胜了他。这个故事可以被解释成她战胜了肉欲的激情和渴望对年轻身体的困扰。雅典人极其尊重这位女子，把她当作神一样崇拜，并把她称为女战神和女武神，因为她是这些技术的创造者。她也因为她卓越的智慧而被称为智慧女神。

“在她死后，雅典人民建造了一座神庙进献给她，在里面供奉了一尊代表智慧和战争的女子雕像。这座雕像目光锐利，代表武士维护公正的职责，以及智者无比聪慧的头脑。这座雕像戴着头盔，以喻示武士必须在战争中经受锻炼以获得无尽的勇气，以及智者的计划应该是不能被人看破的。她穿着盔甲，来表明武士的地位和权力，以及智者应当是做好准备面对命运起伏的远见。这座雕像拿着长矛或长枪，标志着一个武士必须是正义的化身，而智者会选择从安全的距离发起攻击。一个水晶的小圆盾挂在雕像的脖子上，代表武士必须时刻警惕并随时准备保卫国家和人民，以及智者对万事的透彻理解。在这个盾牌的中心是蛇发女妖戈耳工，代表武士必须足够狡黠并要像蛇一样潜近敌人，而智者则必须警惕他人可能带来的危险。为了保卫这尊雕像，他们在旁边树了一只夜行鸟类——猫头鹰——来表示武士必须准备好在需要时不分昼夜地保护国家，以及智者必须时刻警醒自己何为正途。这位弥涅耳瓦被尊崇了很长一段时间，名声远播他国，而那些国家也给她建立了寺庙。即使数个世纪之后罗马人达到了势力顶峰时，她的名望依旧存在，于是他们就把她的形象纳入了众神之中。”

35．关于发明了农业和许多其他技术的克瑞斯女王

“克瑞斯是远古时期西西里的女王。她心灵手巧地发明了农业科学和技术，以及必要的工具。她教会了她的臣民们如何聚拢和驯服牛，并给牛上轭。克瑞斯也发明了犁，展示给她的人民如何用犁刀来挖开和破碎土壤，以及其他所需的技能。下一步，她教给他们如何播种并覆以土壤。当种子生根发芽之后，她教给他们如何收割成捆的麦子，并通过抽打脱粒把麦粒从谷壳中取出。然后克瑞斯演示了如何用厚重的石头研磨谷物以及建造磨坊，接下去如何准备面粉并做成面包。就这样，这位淑女引导了那些如野兽般吃着橡果、野草、苹果和浆果的人们，去开始一种高贵的饮食习惯。

“克瑞斯没有就此止步：那时候她的人民还像野兽一样四处游走，居住在树林和荒野的临时住所里。她把他们聚集起来，并教会他们如何建立城镇、组成社区。她就这样把人们带出了原始状态，引入更为文明和理性的生活方式。诗人们创作出了克瑞斯的传说，讲述她的女儿是如何被冥界之王普路托诱拐的。因为她出色的知识和给世界带来的益处，那时的人崇敬地称她为谷物女神。”

36．关于发明了园艺和种植技术的伊西斯

“伊西斯不仅仅是一位埃及女王，更由于她广博的园艺知识而被尊崇为埃及的女神。传说中描述了她是如何被朱庇特所爱，并把她变成了母牛再变回来，这都是她丰富知识的象征，就像你在自己写的《阿西亚给赫克特的信》中所指出的那样。为了造福埃及人民，她还发明了一些文字来表述他们的语言，以便把想法言简意赅地记录下来。

“伊西斯是希腊国王依那储斯之女，智者福罗奴斯的姐妹。这位淑女和她的兄弟因故离开希腊前往埃及，在那里她教给了人民很多东西，包括如何建立庭院、种植和嫁接植物。她也建立起了一些完善的法律并鼓励希腊人民去遵循，因为直到那时为止他们都还处于没有司法系统的原始状态。简单来说，伊西斯为他们做了很多，所以他们在她生前和死后都为她举办过盛大的典礼。她的名声传遍世界，奉献给她的神殿和礼拜堂如雨后春笋般出现在各地。即使在罗马的巅峰时期，罗马人也为她建起了一座神殿，并在其中沿用埃及人当年的习俗为她敬献祭品，举行庄严的仪式。

“这位尊贵淑女的丈夫叫作阿比斯，异教徒们把他错认为是朱庇特与福罗奴斯之女尼奥比的儿子。古代历史学家和诗人们也经常提到此人。”

……

43．克里斯蒂娜问理性女神是否女人天生拥有良好的判断力以及理性女神的回答

我，克里斯蒂娜，回到理性女神身边说：“我的女神，现在我看到了上帝确实使女性聪明的头脑足以学习、理解和记忆任何知识。我为此由衷地赞美上帝！但是，我也总是很惊诧地看到，有那么多头脑机敏的人，能迅速学到自己的所见所闻、在感兴趣的领域通过投入学习而掌握大量知识，但似乎在个人道德和公众行为上却缺乏判断能力，即使一些最有名的渊博学者也是如此。毫无疑问，科学知识是应该可以帮助灌输道德价值的。所以如果可以的话，我的女神，我非常希望能知道，你我的经验都已证明，女性的头脑足以理解那些科学和其他领域里最复杂的事物，那它是否也一样能够借由判断力学到东西。换句话说，女性能够区别善行和恶行？她们能够汲取过去的经验来修正现在的行为吗？她们能用现在的例子来预见将来应该如何行动吗？在我看来，这些就是良好判断力的体现。”

理性女神回答道：“你提得很对，我的孩子。但是不要忘记，无论男女都是有这种能力的，而且都会有一些人天生比其他人拥有更多。并且良好的判断力并不是学来的，虽然学习能够帮助那些本来就有这种倾向的人更加完美，就像你知道的，两种同向的力量加在一起比单股力量要更强有力。因此在我看来，任何有着天生判断力的人和那些善于学习知识的人都是值得嘉奖的。但是就像你自己指出的，有些人只具备一方面却缺乏另一方面：前者是神恩惠的内在品质，而后者是通过学习获得的。当然，两者都是好的。

“有些人认为，有良好判断力却没有知识，是要好过有学识却没有善恶观的。这是一个备受争议的主张，也引发了各种质疑。你可以说，最好的人是那些对公共利益贡献最多的人。这样的话就无法否认，那些有学识的人通过传授知识对人起到的帮助是最大的，无论他们自己的判断力如何。这是因为个人的判断力只贯穿在人的有生之年，会随着人的逝去而消散。但另一方面，知识是永存的，因为那些博学者的名声是永垂青史的，他们也通过把知识教给他人或者写成书本而流传百世。因此他们的知识不会随他们而消散，就像我用亚里士多德和其他学科创始人的例子给你证明的那样。这种可以习得的知识对人类而言，比无知的人所展示的良好判断力更为有用，尽管他们曾用这些判断力非常好地统治和管理过自己的国家。说句实话，这些良好行为是暂时性的，会随着时间而消失，而知识却是不可磨灭的。

“但我要把这些放在一旁，因为它跟我们现在要进行建城的任务并不直接相关。相对的，让我们回到你最开始问我的那个问题上来，即女性是否天生具有更好的判断力。在这个问题上，我可以肯定地给你一个‘是’的答案。这一点你应该能够从我已经讲给你的事例，以及观察妇女们是如何履行她们传统的职责上看出来。如果你看得足够仔细，你会看到妇女们在照管家庭上大都是尽其所能地做到周到、勤奋和严谨的。有时候，那些有着懒惰丈夫的妇女会给人留下喜欢找碴儿、对他们指手画脚和想树立权威的印象，但他们其实只是在把大部分妻子们的好意给故意抹黑。我下面要说的大部分都是从《所罗门智训》推导出的，它就谈到了像这样的好妻子。”

44．《圣经·箴言》里的《所罗门智训》

“如果一个丈夫能找到勇敢坚定又有着明智判断力的妻子，那他就一无所缺了。她将名声远播而她的丈夫也会为此骄傲，因为她所带来的永远都只有幸福和兴旺。她会去寻觅和购买羊毛，也就是说她给女仆们找到了一件使她们可以被雇佣的有收益的工作去做，同时保持了家用的储备，而她自己也会搭把手。她就像一艘商船，带来好的物品并提供面包。她回馈那些应得的人，他们也将成为她的密友。在她的家中，包括仆人在内都不愁吃穿。运用良好的判断力，她会斟酌地买下一片地皮用来种植葡萄，以保证家中葡萄酒的供应。她充满了勇气和决心，她的手臂因辛勤的劳作而变得肌肉坚实。即使在黑夜里，她劳作的光辉也照耀着全家。她在做着重体力劳动的同时也没有忘记女性的职责，还做着她的分内之事。她帮助和救济穷人，给痛苦的他们雪中送炭。由于她的努力，家族在风雪中免遭饥寒，连仆人们都衣装整齐。她自己穿着寓意正直和显赫的紫色丝绸，她的丈夫同样有着高贵的形象，在本地知名人士中也是第一等的。她制作上好的亚麻布料，用以出售，以及自己穿着来彰显力量和光辉。她乐此不倦。她谈吐间闪耀的都是智慧的语句，而又措辞温婉。她会保证家庭富足并且无人游手好闲。她子女们的举止完全折射出她的影子，而他们的行为也能体现出她无微不至的关照。她丈夫上等的衣着举止也给她加了分。即使在女儿们成人之后她也会严格地管教着她们。她鄙视荣耀的诱惑和短暂的美貌。这样的女人会敬畏上帝也会被赞赏，神会回馈她的辛劳，因为这些劳苦全面地证明了她的美德。”

……

48．关于国王拉丁努斯之女拉维尼亚

“拉维尼亚是劳伦蒂尼的女王，同样因为她良好的判断力而闻名。她也是我们刚刚提到的克里特王萨顿［30］的后代。她是国王拉丁努斯之女，后来嫁给了特洛伊英雄埃涅阿斯［31］，尽管那之前她已经被许配给了卢杜里之王图努斯。她的父亲被一位先知告知，女儿应该嫁给特洛伊的贵族，因而一直推迟他们的婚期，尽管她的母后很希望能尽快举行婚礼。埃涅阿斯抵达意大利时，向拉丁努斯王请求进入他的领地。他不仅被批准入境，还立刻获准了跟拉维尼亚结婚。图努斯因此而跟埃涅阿斯宣战。这场战争夺去了很多人的生命，包括图努斯自己在内。埃涅阿斯巩固胜利之后跟拉维尼亚成了婚，她在埃涅阿斯去世后给他生了一个遗腹子。当她快临盆时，开始非常担心埃涅阿斯跟另一位女性所生的长子阿斯卡尼俄斯会来杀她的儿子篡夺王位。她于是去森林里生产，并给新生儿取名儒略·西尔维斯。此后拉维尼亚发誓不再改嫁，并在孀居期间显示了卓越的判断力，用她的机敏保持了王国的完好无损。她也终于赢得了继子的喜爱，从而缓和了他对自己及儿子的憎恨。当阿斯卡尼俄斯建成了阿尔巴朗格城［32］之后，就搬到那里去居住了。同时拉维尼亚也用高超的技巧统治着国家，直到她的儿子长大成人。这个孩子的后代就是罗马的建立者，罗慕路斯和雷穆斯。

“我还有什么更多能告诉你的呢，我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜？在我看来，我已经给你引述了足够多的证据来支持我的观点，给出了充足的例子来说服你：上帝从来没有比批判男性更多地去批判女性。就像你看到的那样，我的论证是确凿的，而我的两个姐妹会继续用事实来巩固这一点。我想我已完成我建造这个城市外墙的使命，它们看上去已大功告成。请允许我让位给我的两个姐妹，你遵循她们的帮助和建议就可以很快建完剩下的部分了。”

《淑女之城》第一部分结束。

注释

［1］　Matheolus，13世纪法国诗人。——译者注。本书所有注释均为译者所加。

［2］　圣经立下了至少需要两个证人才能定案的原则，如“不可凭一个人的口作见证将他治死”。（《民数记》35：30，《申命记》17：6）

［3］　Doctor of the church，源自中世纪，指教会册封的著名神学家，他们的思想出类拔萃，作为导师引领当代教会的思想。

［4］　Augustine of Hippo, 354—430，罗马帝国末期北非柏柏尔人，早期西方基督教神学家、哲学家。

［5］　The Romance of the Rose，13世纪法国寓言长诗，分上下两卷。

［6］　Publius Ovidius Naso，英文称为Ovid。公元前43—公元17/18，古罗马诗人，代表作《变形记》、《爱的艺术》和《爱情三论》。五十岁时被奥古斯都流放，罪状是参与淫乱行为和写作淫秽诗篇，十年后病死异乡。

［7］　Publius Vergilius Maro，英文称为Virgil。公元前70—前19，奥古斯都时代的古罗马诗人。其代表作之一的《埃涅阿斯纪》长达十二册，是代表罗马帝国文学最高成就的巨著。因此他也被罗马人奉为国民诗人、被当代及后世广泛认为是古罗马最伟大的诗人，乃至世界文学史上最伟大的文学家之一。

［8］　Cecco d'Ascoli, 1257—1327，意大利著名博物学家、医生和诗人。

［9］　Marches，法国德龙省的一个市镇。

［10］　Tuscany，意大利一个大区，首府为佛罗伦萨。

［11］　Marcus Tullius Cicero，公元前106—前43，罗马共和国晚期的哲学家、政治家、律师、作家、雄辩家。

［12］　Marcus Porcius Cato，公元前234—前149，通称老加图，以与其曾孙小加图区别。罗马共和国时期的政治家、国务活动家、演说家，公元前195年的执政官。

［13］　Empress Nicaula，公元前非洲东部示巴王国（约今埃塞俄比亚）的女王，最强时疆域包含东非和今沙特阿拉伯南部地区和也门。

［14］　Meroë，古代努比亚王国首都，遗址位于今苏丹境内。

［15］　Absalom，圣经中大卫王的第三个儿子，以色列国王，圣经记述他“从脚底到头顶，毫无瑕疵”。

［16］　Scythia，公元前7世纪—前2世纪，以今克里米亚为中心的一个富裕而强大的帝国。

［17］　Ephesus，今土耳其境内，为古希腊人在小亚细亚建立的一个大城市，圣母玛利亚终老于此，位于加斯他河注入爱琴海的河口。

［18］　Cornificia，公元前85—前40，罗马共和国女诗人。

［19］　Saint Gregory，约540—604，罗马教宗，590年9月3日至604年3月12日在位。

［20］　Giovanni Boccaccio, 1313—1375，文艺复兴时期的意大利作家、诗人，以故事集《十日谈》留名后世。本书对他的引用均出自其《名媛》（De Mulieribus Claris），该书为西方文学史上第一部女子传记文学作品。

［21］　Sappho，公元前7世纪希腊著名女抒情诗人。

［22］　Faltonia Betitia Proba, 306/315—353/366，罗马帝国诗人，有说法是古典时代晚期最具影响力的拉丁语诗人。

［23］　Mytilene，位于希腊爱琴海莱斯博斯岛东南岸，现为该岛屿的首府，也是莱斯沃斯州的州府所在地。

［24］　Mount Parnassus，希腊中部山脉，濒临科林斯湾。最高点海拔2,457m。在希腊神话中，帕纳塞斯山是太阳神阿波罗和文艺女神们的灵地，缪斯的家乡。古多利安人也以此山为傲。

［25］　Horace，公元前65—前8，罗马帝国奥古斯都统治时期著名的诗人、批评家、翻译家，是古罗马文学“黄金时代”的代表人之一。

［26］　Arcadia，希腊行政区，位于伯罗奔尼撒半岛。

［27］　River Tiber，位于意大利中部，全长405公里，是该国第三长的河流。意大利首都罗马位于河口以上25公里的东岸，而台伯河亦由于为罗马提供水源而闻名于世。

［28］　Mount Palatine，是罗马七座山丘中位处中央的一座，为现代意大利罗马市里所保存的最古老的地区之一。高约40多米，在山顶上往下望，一侧为古罗马广场，另一侧为大竞技场。

［29］　Minerva，智慧女神、战神、艺术家和手工艺人的保护神，相对应于希腊神话的雅典娜。

［30］　Saturn，拉丁语Saturnus，罗马神话中的农业神。

［31］　Aeneas，特洛伊英雄，安基塞斯王子与爱神阿佛洛狄忒的儿子。

［32］　city of Alba，意大利语一般写作Albalonga，是古代拉齐奥王国的城市，位于意大利中部，古代罗马的东南方阿尔班山上。在公元前7世纪被罗马毁灭。在传说里，罗马的建立者罗慕路斯与雷穆斯就是来自于阿尔巴朗格的王族。

第二部分

1．第一章讲述十位女预言家的故事

在第一位淑女理性女神结束了谈话之后，第二位淑女正直女神转向我说道：“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，我该开始履行我的职责了：在我的姐妹理性女神建完的城墙内，我们必须一起建起淑女之城的房屋来。拿起工具跟我来。不要犹豫，在你的墨水瓶里把砂浆混合均匀，并用你的笔砌起砖石的建筑吧。我会给你提供足够的材料。借上帝的恩惠，我们很快就能建起皇宫和豪院，接纳那些辉煌杰出的淑女们来永久定居。”

听到这位可敬女神的话，我，克里斯蒂娜，回答她道：“最出色的女神啊，我已经准备好了。我将服从你所有的命令，因为我唯一的愿望就是遵从你的召唤。”

她回答我说：“我亲爱的朋友，看看这些我采来切好供你建筑用的石块吧，它们美丽闪亮，比世界上任何其他的石头都要珍贵。当你和理性女神在长途跋涉的时候，我可没有偷懒吧？你现在需要把它们按照我给你的顺序整理好，排放在我为你划好的线上。

“在知名的女性中排名最高的，是那些有着渊博学识的聪颖的女预言家们。根据最权威的记载，曾经有十位‘女预言家’，虽然有些人说只有九位。我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，把这个好好记下来：上帝曾经给予任何一位，包括那些最被他青睐的预言者们在内，比我下面要提到的淑女们更多的神启吗？他难道不是授予了她们预言的神性，使得她们可以如此直接而清晰地去叙述和记录未来吗？清晰得就像是在总结和记录过去已经发生，而不是在预见将来尚未发生的事情一样。她们甚至比任何预言家更清楚详细地描述了基督的诞生，而那是在她们的时代很久之后。这些淑女们保持了终生的贞洁和无垢。她们十位都被称为女预言家，但不要把这当成是她们自己的名字。这个词的意思实际上是‘获知神意的人’。她们都得到了这个名字是因为她们的预言非常准确而至关重要，恐怕只能是直接从上帝那里得知的了。因此这更像是一个职务名而非人名。尽管她们出生在世界上不同的地方、生活在不同的时代，但都清晰地预见到了未来的重要事件，包括我刚才所说的基督诞生。更值得一提的是，她们十位全都是异教徒，甚至连犹太教徒都不是。

“第一位女预言家来自波斯，并因此被称为波斯卡。第二位来自利比亚，因而被称为利比卡。第三位生于德尔菲［1］的阿波罗神殿，因此被称为德尔菲卡。正是她在很早之前就预言了特洛伊城的毁灭，奥维德也曾在一本书中用了一些诗句来赞美她。第四位来自意大利，叫作辛梅里亚。第五位出生在巴比伦，叫作西罗菲利：当希腊人向她求教时，她预言了他们将毁灭特洛伊和它的要塞伊洛姆，不过荷马在他的史诗里把这些史实给歪曲了。她也被称为欧律斯拉俄亚，因为那是她定居的岛屿，也是她的著作被发现的地方。第六位来自萨摩斯岛，叫作萨米亚。第七位被称为酷迈，因为她出生在意大利坎帕尼亚区的酷迈城。第八位叫作赫勒斯滂蒂娜，因为她来自特洛伊平原上的赫勒斯滂［2］：她活跃在居鲁士大帝时期，和著名作者梭伦同时代。第九位叫作弗里吉卡，来自弗里吉亚，她不仅预言了很多王国的沦陷，也生动地描述了敌基督的出现。第十位叫作蒂泊蒂娜，也被称作阿布妮亚，她的著作因最清晰地记述了基督降临而被广为尊崇。尽管这些女预言家们都是异教徒出身，但她们最终都摒弃了多神的信仰，认为只有上帝是唯一存在，所有的偶像也都是假的。”

……

5．关于卡桑德拉和巴西娜王后，以及更多关于尼科斯特拉塔的故事

“我们之前讨论的尼科斯特拉塔也是一位女先知，她的儿子伊凡德亦经常在历史书中出现。在与儿子一起跨过台伯河爬上帕拉蒂尼山时，她就预言了这座山会被建成有史以来最著名的城市，一座统治所有其他王国的城市。正如我们之前所提到的，她为了给这座城市奠基而筑起了一个要塞，之后罗马正是在此基础之上建立的。

“与此类似的，高贵的特洛伊少女卡珊德拉是特洛伊王普里阿摩斯的女儿、著名的赫克特的妹妹，也是一位女预言家。她不也是因非常博学而精通所有领域吗？这位姑娘选择了侍奉神而终身不嫁，无论是面对多么高贵的王子她都矢志不渝。她因而看到了特洛伊的未来，并为此痛心不已。越是看到特洛伊在与希腊人冲突前的繁荣昌盛，她就越是哀叹痛哭。看着富丽堂皇的城市和光辉显赫的兄弟们，尤其是骁勇善战的赫克特，可怕的未来让卡珊德拉再也无法保持沉默。开战之后，她的痛楚进一步加深，从未停止过哭叫着恳求她的父兄们与希腊求和，警告他们若不如此所有人都会被这场战争所摧毁。但是没有人相信她的话，而且因为她拒绝沉默并毫不掩饰自己对于毁灭和杀戮的痛苦，她的父兄甚至还经常殴打她，说她疯了。但她依然抓住每一个机会告诉他们即将发生的一切。终于，为了从她不停的叫唤恳求声中得到一点安静，他们只好把她关在一间远离人烟的房子里。他们如果相信她就好了，因为每一件事都如她所预言的那样发生了。他们终于对自己的所作所为开始感到后悔，但是一切都为时已晚。

“同样，巴西娜王后的预言不也是一样神奇吗？根据记载，她先嫁给了图林根［3］之王，后来又跟法国第四任国王希尔德里克一世结婚。传说在婚礼当天晚上，她说服希尔德里克一世如果当晚能不动情欲，他就能看到不可思议的景象。她让他起身去卧室的窗前，说说看到外面有什么。国王照做了，发现他似乎看到了诸如独角兽、猎豹和狮子那样的大型野兽，在王宫里跑来跑去。国王恐惧地转向王后，问她这些代表什么意思。王后承诺早晨会给他一个解释，让他安心，没有什么可害怕的，并让他回到窗前。国王照做了，这次他觉得自己看到了凶猛的熊和巨大的狼在对打。在王后让他第三次往窗外看时，他似乎看到了狗和其他小型生物相互厮打。国王对这些景象感到非常恐慌和吃惊，王后因而给他解释说，他看到的这些动物代表了他们的后裔，那些终有一日会加冕称王的未来法国王子们。不同的动物代表了这些王子们将来的性格和行为。

“所以你可以很清楚地看到，我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，上帝是多么经常地通过女性给世界透露他的秘密。”

……

7．克里斯蒂娜对正直女神的发问

“我的女神，这些证据能证明妇女在所有被谴责的事上都是无辜的，我越听越清楚这些指控者是极其错误的。但我还是没法不提起一个在男人们甚至是在一些女人们中都相当普遍的风俗，那就是当妇女怀孕产下女儿时，丈夫们通常都很不高兴她们没能生个儿子。他们愚蠢的妻子们本应当庆幸上帝保佑她们安全分娩，并全心地感谢他，却因为丈夫的烦闷而同样悲痛不已。但是我的女神，他们为什么会如此生气？是因为女孩会比男孩带来更多的麻烦，还是说不如男孩爱戴和孝敬他们的父母？”

正直女神回答道：“我亲爱的朋友，既然你问到为什么会这样，那么我可以向你保证，那些人难过是因为无知和愚蠢。但实际上，他们不高兴的主要原因还是在忧虑把女儿嫁出去得花掉多少钱，那可都是他们的血汗钱。其他人不开心是因为他们担心一个年轻单纯的女孩会被坏人引上歪路。但是细看，这两个理由都是站不住脚的。对于那些担心女儿会误入歧途的父母们，他们所要做的就只是把她们从小好好教养大，用她们母亲自身可敬的举止和有益的忠告来作例子；但如果母亲的道德水平不够高，那她就很难成为女儿效仿的榜样了。他们应该严格地把女儿跟不良伙伴隔离开，并教会她们敬畏父母，因为严格地抚养婴幼儿有助于她们日后建立良好的行为举止。同样，对于花销问题，我想说无论社会地位如何，如果这些父母们去看看把儿子养育大以及送他们去学习知识或经商的花费，他们就会立刻意识到抚养儿子并不比女儿更省钱，这还忽略不计儿子们花在那些不体面的朋友和无谓的奢侈品上的钱。更不用提男孩们因经常卷入打斗或堕入不良嗜好而给他们的父母带来痛苦和担忧了。所有这些都给他们的父母和用在他们身上的花销抹了黑。在我看来，这些远远比女孩们可能给父母带来的麻烦要大得多。

“你能举出有多少儿子是真正在无微不至地赡养年迈的父母吗？而这本是他们理所应当要做的。尽管你能从过去和现在的人中举出几个例子，但那只是极少数，并且也只是在最后的时刻而已。通常发生的情况是，当儿子们像小皇帝般地被宠大了，又托他们父亲出钱的福读了书学了艺或忽然暴富之后，如果父亲经济拮据、生活困顿了，他们不仅会置之不理，见面的时候更会以此为耻。若是相反的，父亲们手头宽裕，他们就巴不得他早点过世，这样自己就可以拿到遗产了。只有上帝才知道有多少庄园主和有钱人的儿子们在期盼着父母过世，以便继承他们的土地和财产。彼特拉克［4］的这些话触及了事实：‘啊，愚蠢的人，你希望能有孩子，但其实没有比他们更为致命的敌人了。若你穷困，他们会鄙视你，并祈祷你能快点死去以便早日摆脱你。若你富有，他们会祈祷你能更有钱以便攫取你的财产。’我并不是说所有的儿子均会如此，但相当多的都是这样。另外，如果他们结婚了，上帝才知道他们会多么贪得无厌地去榨干父母，哪怕老人们饿死也满不在乎，只要能够继承到他们的土地。这是多么可怕的后代！如果他们的母亲寡居，他们并不会去安慰和扶助年迈的母亲，而是会对母亲给他们的爱和投入以怨报德。差劲的孩子们认为一切都是属于他们的，所以如果母亲没有满足他们的所有要求，他们就会毫不犹豫地谩骂和诅咒她们。天知道这是在怎样地尊重他们的母亲！比这更糟糕的，有些孩子还满不在乎地把母亲告上法庭。这就是很多父母终其一生把钱奉献给孩子们以后得到的回报。很多儿子都是这样，当然有些女儿可能也如此。但是如果你仔细观察，我想你能看到卑劣的儿子比女儿要多得多。

“即使所有的男孩都是孝敬父母的，你也还是会看到更多的女儿，而不是儿子，在陪伴她们的父母。她们不仅更频繁地去看望父母，而且更多地在父母年老体衰之后照顾他们。原因是男孩们更倾向于去闯荡世界，而女孩们则更倾向于退守家庭，就像你自身可以验证的那样。尽管你的兄弟们是很有爱心的儿子们，但他们也早已走出家门，只有你还孤身留在母亲身边，成为她晚年最大的慰藉。总结起来，我想说那些对生了女儿感到不满的人完全是被蒙蔽了。既然现在我们在讨论这个话题，那就让我从历史上挑几位对父母非常体贴关爱的妇女讲给你听。”

8．这里开始讲一系列孝敬父母的女儿的故事，第一位是德莉佩提娜

“德莉佩提娜是老底嘉［5］的女王，非常爱她的父亲。她是伟大的国王米特利达特［6］的女儿，因为敬仰她的父亲而跟随他上了所有的战场。这位女孩非常难看，她的乳牙从未脱落因而有两排牙齿，这是种很严重的畸形。但是她非常热爱她的父亲，以至于从未离开过他的左右，无论顺境还是逆境都是如此。她是一片广袤疆土的女主人，完全可以在本国过上安全舒适的生活，但她还是希望能够分担父亲每次征战时的痛苦。即使是在他被强大的庞培［7］击败时，她也还是不离不弃地全心照顾自己的父亲。”

……

12．正直女神宣布城市的建设已经结束，可以开始请居民入住了

“我亲爱的朋友，我看我们的建筑已经大功告成，淑女之城有了足够多的房子和宽阔的街道。皇宫也已建好，防御塔高高耸立，从数英里外就能看到。现在是时候让居民们入住了。这城不该被空置，而是应该住满卓越的淑女们，并且只有她们才会被欢迎进城。我们城的居民们会有多么的幸福！她们不必担心被游牧民族赶出家门，因为这座城市有个特性，使得任何入住的居民都永远不会被驱逐。一个新的女性国度就要诞生了，而且比之前的更加完美，因为淑女们不必再离开领地来生育继承王国的下一代女性。我们将要邀请来的淑女们已经足够永世流芳了。

“一旦我们让城里住满了当之无愧的居民，我的姐妹公正女神就会带着女王一同过来，她是一位超越了所有其他淑女的出色女性，由最尊贵的贵族们陪同着。正是她们将要占据高耸的塔中最精美的住所。所以我们现在最紧要的任务就是，当女王驾临时，她应该看到满城优秀的女性，毕恭毕敬地迎接她们至高无上的女主人、君临整个女性性别的统治者。我们应该请来怎样的市民？会包括名声狼藉的荡妇吗？当然不会！她们将全是名声远播的坚定勇敢的女性，这些品性高尚值得尊敬的妇女们，是能装点我们城市的最有意义的人群了。来吧，克里斯蒂娜，让我们起程去寻访我们的淑女们吧。”

13．克里斯蒂娜询问正直女神，婚姻变得无法忍受是不是像男人和书中所说的那样，因为无法与女人共同生活。正直女神从女性对她们丈夫的爱是多么伟大开始回答这个问题

当我们依照正直女神所述走在寻访淑女的路上时，我边走边问她：“我的女神，你和理性女神都令人信服地回答了我自己无法解答的问题，我觉得我现在对这些问题的看法更深入了。谢谢你们两位，我发现了女性完全能胜任任何需要体力或学习能力的事情。但是我现在想问你一个一直萦绕着我的重要问题。有很多男人及书中都说，是因为妇女和她们的泼皮抱怨，使得婚姻成为了男人们的永恒坟墓。这是真的吗？很多人都支持这种观点，认为女人很少关心丈夫和他们的朋友，这让他们非常恼怒。为了躲避这种痛苦和问题，很多作者建议男人们都学聪明点不要结婚，因为没有或者很少有女人会对她们的伴侣忠诚。这个观点甚至体现在了《瓦列利乌斯给鲁非诺的信》［8］中，里面引用了泰奥弗拉斯托斯［9］书中所说的，聪明的男人不该结婚，因为女人是麻烦，她们缺乏感情还成天闲言碎语。他还说如果一个男人为了生病时能有人好好照顾而结婚，那还不如去找一个忠心的仆人，而且花费还能少些。另一方面，如果妻子生病了，他就会焦急起来，并觉得不离左右是自己的义务。泰奥弗拉斯托斯还有诸多此类的叙述，但我不想再继续说下去了。我亲爱的女神，如果这些事是真的，那这问题看来非常严重，足以完全抵消掉一位妇女所能拥有的美德和优秀品质了。”

正直女神回答道：“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，正如你自己之前说过的，没人反驳的案子容易赢。但是请相信我，持有这些观点的书全都不是女性所写的。实际上我一点也不怀疑，如果有人愿意基于事实重新写一本关于婚姻问题的书的话，肯定会形成一套完全不同的观点。我亲爱的朋友，就像你自己所知道的，有那么多妻子生活在悲惨的婚姻中，粗暴的丈夫让她们的生活凄惨到还不如被野蛮人奴役。上帝啊，有多少优雅正派的妇女无缘无故地被殴打，被辱骂、猥亵和诅咒，被沉重的负担和侮辱压迫得毫无反抗力。更不必提那些要喂很多张小嘴的妻子们了，她们在赤贫中濒临饿死，而丈夫们却要么在寻欢作乐，要么在城里或酒馆中对此置若罔闻。这些妇女们在丈夫回家后所能得到的晚餐就只是他们的逃避而已。我来问你，我有一点点是在撒谎吗？你应该不会没见过你的某个邻居被如此对待过吧？”

我回答道：“是的，我的女神。我看到过很多妇女有这样的经历，我也很同情她们。”

“我完全相信这一点。至于说丈夫们会对妻子生病感到焦虑，我问你，我亲爱的朋友，你认识这样的丈夫吗？不必再追究更多细节我就可以告诉你，所有这些流传的关于妻子的废话都是连篇的谎话。丈夫们是妻子的主人，而不是相反的。一个男人永远也不会允许自己被一个女人所驾驭。但是我向你保证，并非所有的婚姻都是如此。也有一些夫妻互相敬爱，对对方忠诚，在一起平静地生活：在这些例子里双方都是明智、体贴和高尚的。尽管有很多不好的丈夫，但也有很多正派、可敬和智慧的丈夫。那些有幸跟这些男人结婚的妻子们应当感谢上帝赐予了她们这样的幸福。你自己也能证明这一点，因为你再也不会找到比你先夫更好的丈夫了。在你看来，他比所有男人都仁慈、温柔、忠诚和深情，你心里也永远无法停止对他早逝的哀思。同时我们无法否认，还有很多温柔的女性被与此相反的丈夫们虐待着，当然我们得承认也有一些妻子确实是固执又无理取闹的。实际上，如果我说所有的妻子都是道德的典范，那我也快要被指责为骗子了。但这种女人毕竟是少数。不管怎样，我宁可不去谈论这些女人，因为她就像是完全违背了自己天性的生物。

“说到好的妻子，让我们回到你之前提到的泰奥弗拉斯托斯，他说仆人可以像妻子那样去照顾一个病弱的男人。你可以看到无数优秀而忠诚的妻子，服侍她们无论健康的或是病中的丈夫，都像对神明那样的尽心尽力！我可不觉得你会找到像那样的仆人。既然我们开始讨论这个话题了，我就给你一些妻子的例子，她们深爱着自己丈夫并把自己全部奉献给了他们。现在，感谢主，我们可以请一位体面又可敬的淑女来到我们的城市了。这就是尊贵的绪丝克拉提亚王后，米特利达特六世的妻子。因为她所处的时代非常古老，又有着无法衡量的价值，理所应当是第一位入住为她精心准备好的宫殿的淑女。”

14．关于绪丝克拉提亚王后

“怎么可能有人比绪丝克拉提亚王后爱她丈夫还要更爱一个人呢？她是如此体贴和忠诚。这位淑女是伟大的米特利达特六世的妻子，他的治下有着二十四种不同的语言。尽管他是有史以来最强大的国王，罗马人仍然对他发动了可怕的战争。在长期艰苦卓绝的战斗中，无论到了何处，他的妻子都从未离开过他。这位国王遵循野蛮人的习俗娶了数位妃子，但这位尊贵的淑女非常爱她的丈夫，因而不让他单独去任何地方，她经常陪伴着他征战。尽管王国岌岌可危，性命也时时堪忧，她依旧跟随他跋涉到偏远陌生之地，远渡重洋、深入沙漠，从未离开左右。她的爱是如此强烈，她认为没有人能像她一样忠诚地侍奉主人。

“所以跟哲学家泰奥弗拉斯托斯所说的完全相反，这位淑女非常清楚，国王和贵族们的仆从经常不怎么忠诚又对他们照顾不周。因此这位忠诚的淑女把自己完全投入在了满足主人任何可能的需要上。尽管不得不克服各种艰难困苦，她依然跟随他出生入死。因为条件不允许她穿女性服装，而且这样一位伟大国王和勇士的妻子在战争中出现在他身边也不合适，所以她剪掉了女人最好的特质，即她长长的金发，以便装扮成男人。她也从未考虑过保护自己的肌肤，她的脸庞因为绑着头盔而很快由于汗水和尘土变得肮脏。她曼妙的躯体被甲胄所包裹。她摘下了所有贵重的戒指和珠宝，手被沉重的斧子、长矛和弓箭磨砺得粗糙坚硬。她腰上佩戴的是剑而非高贵的腰带。出于对丈夫忠贞的爱情，这位淑女完全适应了新的环境，她那年轻迷人的躯体本应过着更为柔软舒适的生活，却变成了强壮有力的战士的身体。听听薄伽丘在他的诗里是怎么说的：‘有什么爱情做不到的事吗？我们看到这位淑女，曾习惯了包括柔软床铺在内的各种舒适而精致的生活，却自愿把自己变得和男人一样坚韧而粗犷，四处征战、昼夜行军，经常在沙漠和丛林的硬地上安营扎寨，永远被敌袭所威胁，被野兽和蟒蛇所环绕。’但这些她全都可以接受，只要她能留在丈夫身边来安慰和劝告他，无微不至地照顾他。

“后来，他们共同经历了很多苦难之后，她的丈夫被罗马军事家庞培残酷地击溃了，他们不得不踏上逃亡的道路。尽管他被所有部下抛弃了，他的妻子还是独自追随着他逃过高山、峡谷和很多漆黑危险的地方。在被所有朋友抛弃了的绝望时期，国王从他忠诚的妻子对未来憧憬的鼓励中得到了安慰。尽管他们跌落到了人生的低谷，她还是用尽全力让他打起精神，寻找合适的话语来驱走他的悲伤，创造出有趣的游戏来与他同乐。她通过这些努力加上自己的温柔，给丈夫带来了巨大的慰藉，以至于无论他有多么低迷沮丧或要承受多少痛苦，她都能够让他忘却不幸。他经常感动地说他觉得自己不像是在流亡中，倒像是在宫殿里跟所爱的妻子共度美好时光一般。”

……

21．关于哲学家苏格拉底之妻赞西佩

“可敬的淑女赞西佩是一位非常智慧并具有美德的妇女，她嫁给了伟大的哲学家苏格拉底。尽管他已经年迈并且用远远多于给妻子买礼物的时间来写书，这位淑女也从没有停止过对他的爱。实际上，她崇敬他超凡的智慧以及他的善良和坚定，因而深深地爱着他，并为他感到无比骄傲。当这位勇敢可敬的赞西佩得知，她丈夫因为攻击雅典人偶像崇拜的习俗并宣扬只有一位值得尊重和侍奉的神，而被他们宣判了死刑时，她就无法控制自己的情绪了。她痛苦地哭泣着，披头散发地冲上街道。她拼尽全力来到丈夫被关押的宫殿，发现他正被奸诈的法官们包围着，而且他们给了他毒汁让他饮下来结束自己的生命。她进入房间时苏格拉底正把杯子举到唇边打算饮下，于是她冲上去抢下杯子并把毒药洒在了地上。苏格拉底为此斥责了她，并试图安慰她，告诉她要有耐心。看到无法阻止丈夫的死亡，她完全沉浸在了悲痛中，哭道：‘杀死一个好人是怎样的罪孽和损失啊！是怎样的错误和不公啊！’苏格拉底一直试着去劝解她，解释说被不公正地处死比起被罪有应得地处死要好得多。于是他就这么死去了，但在深爱着他的妻子的余生中，她没有一刻停止对他的哀思。”

……

25．克里斯蒂娜对正直女神说有些人声称女人无法保守秘密；正直女神在回应中谈到了小加图［10］的女儿珀提娅

“我的女神，我完全确信我经常亲眼看到的：无论过去还是现在，很多女人都明确地表现出了她们有多爱自己的丈夫以及有多么投入地付出。这就是我为什么觉得这一点很奇怪：男人们普遍认为不应该告诉女人任何他们需要保守的秘密，因为女人嘴太大，包括大师让·克洛皮内尔在他的《玫瑰传奇》中，以及其他的作者都这么说过。”

正直女神回答道：“我亲爱的朋友，就像你明白的那样，不是所有的女人都很聪明，男人也是一样。因此如果一个男人有那么点判断力，那他自己在告诉妻子秘密之前就应该明白她是否可信和善良，因为这有可能会带来危险的后果。任何知道自己妻子是可靠而细心谨慎的人，都是可以完全对她放心的，因为这世界上再没有比她更值得完全信任的人了。

“至于女人是否像有些人说的那样轻率，我们还是回到爱着丈夫的那些女人身上。罗马尊敬的布鲁图［11］，珀提娅的丈夫，当然不会这么认为。这位淑女是老加图的侄子［12］小加图的女儿。他知道妻子有多聪颖和贤惠，于是告诉了她自己和另一位罗马元老卡西乌斯［13］打算在元老院刺杀恺撒。但是，这位敏感的淑女意识到了后果的可怕，因而极力劝解丈夫放弃这个计划。她被丈夫的密谋困扰得一夜无法入眠。第二天一早当布鲁图离开寝室去执行计划时，珀提娅绝望地试图阻止他，于是拿着理发的剃刀装作要修剪指甲，然后掉在了地上。她俯身去捡时，故意把刀片深深切进了手里。女仆被主人的伤情吓得大声尖叫，布鲁图听到就转身回了家。他看到她伤到自己之后就责备她，说使用剃刀是理发匠的事，不是她的事。她回答说自己没有他想得那么傻：她是故意这么做的，想试试看如果他事成之后受到伤害，自己该怎样自杀。布鲁图还是没有改变主意地离开了家。很快，他和卡西乌斯刺杀了恺撒，他们因此被判流放。即使布鲁图已经被驱逐出了罗马，他最终还是被暗杀了。珀提娅得知他的死讯之后，心神错乱，丧失了活下去的意愿。因为她想做的事太明显了，家人藏起了所有尖锐的器皿和刀具，她就在火边取了正在燃烧的煤块吞了下去。就这样，高贵的珀提娅通过灼烧内脏自杀了，这是人类曾经历过的最奇特的死法。”

……

28．对于那些说只有傻瓜才会听从妻子的建议或相信她的人的反证；克里斯蒂娜问了一些问题以及正直女神的回答

“我的女神，听到你的论述并且亲眼见到女性是多么的明智和可靠之后，我很吃惊有些人说只有傻瓜才会听取和相信妻子的建议。”

正直女神回答道：“我之前也告诉你了，并非所有的女性都是聪颖的。但是如果那些有着既有责任感又可靠的妻子的男人们也不肯信任她们的话，那他们就太傻了。从我之前讲的你可以看到：如果布鲁图听从了珀提娅的建议不要去刺杀恺撒，他就不会被暗杀，之后的种种悲剧也就可以避免了。既然我们正在讨论这个主题，我就再告诉你一些男人们因为没有听从妻子的劝解而遭难的故事吧。这之后，我会给你一些丈夫们好好听从了妻子建议的例子。

“如果我们刚刚提到的儒略·恺撒，当初信任了他明智又聪慧的妻子，他那天就不会去元老院，也就不会死了。她看到了诸多丈夫会被暗杀的预兆，并且头天晚上正做了这样的噩梦，因此尽她所能地做了一切努力来阻止丈夫那天去元老院。

“同样的事情在庞培身上也发生了，他最早跟茱莉亚，也就是儒略·恺撒的女儿结婚，之后我告诉过你，他的第二任妻子是一位叫作科涅莉亚的高贵淑女。就像我们之前说的一样，这位淑女非常爱她的丈夫，以至于无论怎样的逆境降临都拒绝离开他。即便是在他战败给恺撒被迫从海上逃亡时，这位科涅莉亚也跟随着他，与他共同面对所有的危险。当庞培抵达了埃及王国的时候，背信弃义的国王托勒密装作很高兴他到来并派人去迎接庞培，而实际是去刺杀他的。这些人让庞培把所有人都留在岸上，仅他只身一人回到船上，以便减轻船重顺利入港。庞培很乐意打算照做，但他忠诚的妻子试图阻止他就这么跟自己人分开。看到他不想改变主意，她就尝试跳回船上陪他，因为她感觉事情好像不大对劲。但是他不允许她这么做，并且让人强行留下了她。这位淑女的悲痛就从此开始了，并且萦绕了她一生。她丈夫刚刚起航，视线一刻没有离开他的科涅莉亚就亲眼看到他被船上的叛徒杀死了。她极为心慌意乱，以至于如果不是被人制止住，就会当场跳入海中了。

“与此类似，同样的厄运也降临在了特洛伊的赫克特头上。在他被杀的前一天晚上，他的妻子安德洛玛刻做了一个奇怪的梦，这个梦告诉她如果赫克特参加第二天的战斗就会丧命。她很震惊，认为这并不仅仅是个噩梦而是一个真实的预言，这位淑女双手合在胸前跪下来恳求丈夫别去参加今天的战斗，甚至还把他们两个可爱的孩子抱到他的面前。但是他完全没有在意她的话，因为他觉得如果听从一个女人的建议而离开战场，将会给他带来无法挽回的耻辱。安德洛玛刻请他的父母去替她恳求，他也同样没有听从。一切就像她所说的那样发生了。所以，如果赫克特听了她的话，就不会被阿喀琉斯杀死了。

“我可以给你举出无数这样的例子，男人们因为不肯屈尊去听妻子有道理的建议，而遭受到了不同程度的损失。但是那些因不听信妻子而以悲剧收场的男人，可以责备的就只有他们自己了。”

……

31．关于高尚的寡妇友第德

“高尚的寡妇友第德从赫罗弗尼斯手中拯救了以色列人民。赫罗弗尼斯被尼布甲尼撒二世［14］派来统治犹太人，并占领了埃及。犹太人被赫罗弗尼斯强大的军队围困在城中，已经遭受重创坚持不了多久了。水源供应被他切断，存粮也快告罄了。感觉坚持不下去了的犹太人已经惊惶到了战败的边缘。他们开始祈祷，恳求上帝怜悯他的子民，不要让他们落到敌人手中。上帝听到了他们的祈祷，就如同他后来派的是一位女性去拯救人类那样，这次也选择了一位妇女去营救他们。

“城中住着一位高贵勇敢的淑女叫友第德，年轻可爱，又有典范性的美德和纯真。她怜悯危难中的人们，日夜向神祈祷拯救他们。她从自己信仰的上帝那里得到了启示，密谋出了一个计划。一个夜晚，她把自己托付给上帝，在一个女仆的陪同下离开了城池，前往赫罗弗尼斯的营地。当负责警卫的哨兵在月光下看到她的美貌时，就直接把她带到了赫罗弗尼斯面前。他很高兴得到这么一个美得炫目的女人，让她在身边坐下，并很快为她的智慧、高贵举止和美貌所倾倒。他越盯着她，就越是想要得到她。有着自己打算的友第德在心中默默向上帝祈祷，希望他能在她尝试时守护她，让赫罗弗尼斯一点一点地上钩，直到时机成熟。三个夜晚之后，赫罗弗尼斯给他的贵族们举办了酒宴，喝得酩酊大醉。酒足饭饱之时，他迫不及待想与这位希伯来女人同床共枕，就派人叫了她来。友第德听了他的愿望之后，表示同意这样做，但为了得体起见，需要他把人都摈出帐外，他自己先上床，而友第德在半夜夜深人静的时候再造访他。赫罗弗尼斯接受了这些条件。这位淑女开始祈祷，希望神能在她颤抖的女性心灵中赐予足够的力量和勇气，使她的人民能从这暴君的手中解脱。

“当友第德觉得赫罗弗尼斯已经睡着时，就和女仆蹑手蹑脚地走到他的帐篷口倾听。听到他熟睡的声音，她边呼喊着‘让我们动手吧，上帝与我们同在！’边冲入帐内，无畏地抽出了他挂在床边的宝剑，用尽全身的力气提起剑，悄然无声地砍下了赫罗弗尼斯的头。她用裙子包好头颅，迅速往回跑。友第德没有遇到一点阻碍，回到了城门，大喊道：‘来开城门吧，上帝与我们同在！’她进入城中之后，你无法想象市民们看到她的所作所为时有多么欣喜若狂。到了早晨，他们把头颅钉在尖木桩上挑出城墙去，然后披挂上阵，勇猛敏捷地袭击了还在睡梦中毫无准备的敌人。他们迅速冲进主将的帐篷，想让他尽快起来，却惊骇地发现他已经身首异处了。于是犹太人把他们全部俘虏，杀得一个不剩。以色列人就这样被友第德从赫罗弗尼斯的手中救了出来。这位英勇女性的颂歌应当在圣经中被永远传唱。”

……

33．关于萨宾妇女［15］

“我可以举出很多保护了自己国家或城市的古代女性异教徒的例子。但我只准备讲两个比较重要的来证明我的观点。

“在罗慕路斯和雷穆斯建立了罗马城之后，罗穆卢斯把他在战争中所能召集到的骑士和士兵都聚集在了城中。他非常急于为这些男人们寻找配偶，因为只有这样他们的后代将来才能继续统治这个城市。但是周边国家从国王、贵族到人民都觉得他们是个鲁莽野蛮而无法信任的民族，因此不愿意把女儿嫁给他们，甚至不愿意跟他们建立任何联系。罗穆卢斯无法给自己和士兵们找到妻子，因而想出了一个狡猾的计策。他向全境宣布，将举办一个骑士长矛比武的赛事，并且邀请所有国王、贵族以及民众带着他们的妻女出席。在庆典当天，大批的人群从四面八方聚集而来，因为太太小姐们都想要看这场比试。在这中间也有萨宾国王的女儿，一位美丽迷人的女孩，由她从国内带来的女伴们陪同。比赛是在城墙外山脚下的一块平原上举行的，所有的女性都排坐在高地上。骑士们在可爱淑女们的注视下勇气大增，武艺一个比一个出众。长话短说，当他们打斗了一阵之后，罗穆卢斯觉得执行自己计划的时机到了，于是拿出一个巨大的象牙号角吹了起来。听到这声作为行动信号的巨响，骑士们停止了互相搏击，转而冲向了妇女们。罗穆卢斯抢下了自己心仪的国王女儿，其他骑士也带走了自己看中的女人。罗马人把淑女们强行带上马匹，飞奔回城之后立刻放下城门。在城外，她们的父亲和亲属们跟这些被劫持的妇女们一样失声痛哭，但也都无济于事了。罗穆卢斯用盛大的仪式迎娶了他的妻子，其他骑士也照做了。

“这次事件引发了一场可怕的战争。萨宾王很快就集结了大军攻打罗马人，但要打败这些战斗老手是很难的。战争持续了五年之后的某一天，双方全副武装准备在战场上兵戎相见，很明显一场伤亡惨重的战斗迫在眉睫。等到大批罗马人出了城门，王后就召集罗马妇女在一个寺庙中集会。这位聪明美丽的少妇对她们说道：‘可敬的萨宾女性们、姐妹们和伙伴们，你们都非常清楚我们是怎样被我们的丈夫们诱拐来，这又如何引起了我们父兄和丈夫之间的战争的。这场战争无论是继续下去，还是以哪一方的胜利告终，都无法避免对我们造成伤害。如果是我们丈夫输了，我们已经爱上了他们还有了孩子，我们会心碎而孩子们也将失去父亲。如果反之，我们的丈夫赢了而父兄们被杀了，我们也会深深为这场由我们引起的冲突而痛心的。已然发生的事早就无法挽回，在我看来，我们应该找到一个能和平解决这场战争的方法。如果你们决定听从我的建议，那就跟随我，我相信我们可以终止这件事。’听了她的话，其他妇女同声回应，说她们同意这样做，并愿意遵从她的指示。

“王后于是散开头发脱下鞋，其他妇女也照做了。有孩子的就把孩子抱在怀中，还有一群孩子和孕妇也加入了行列。王后带领着这感人的队列径直走向双方列队的战场。她们站在了双方阵营中间，这样骑士们就不可能越过她们而直接攻击到对方了。女王和其他女性都跪下喊道：‘亲爱的父亲们和兄弟们，敬爱的丈夫们：看在上帝的分上和解吧！不然的话，我们就做好被你们的马蹄践踏而死的准备了。’看到自己的妻子和孩子们失声痛哭，罗马的骑士们都震惊地打退堂鼓了：他们是不可能攻击她们的。这些妇女的父亲们也被女儿们的惨状打动了。双方看着对方，出于对这些哀求他们停手的妇女们的同情，他们的恨变成了对子女的爱。萨宾人和罗马人都扔下手中的武器冲上去拥抱对方，就此和解了。罗穆卢斯带着他的岳父萨宾之王进了城，用最高的礼仪接待了他和他的军队。就这样，多亏了女王和妇女们的勇气和判断力，罗马人和萨宾人避免了互相残杀。”

……

36．反驳那些声称妇女受教育是没有好处的人

听到这些话，我，克里斯蒂娜，说道：“我的女神，我可以清楚地看到女性给世界带来了很多美好的事物。即使一些邪恶的女人做过一些坏事，在我看来这也还是远远比不上女性一直以来做过并继续在做的好事。我们之前提到的那些聪颖的、在科学艺术上接受过良好教育的妇女们尤其如此。这就是为什么我很奇怪有些男人完全反对女儿、妻子或其他女性亲属去上学，说是因为担心她们的道德会因此而崩坏。”

正直女神回答说：“这件事就足以说明，并非所有男人的看法都是有道理的，尤其这些男人更加是大错特错了。道德方面的知识应该是促进美德的，说它会产生破坏的效果是完全没有道理的。正相反，这种知识毫无疑问能够纠正人的恶习，端正人的品行。怎么会有人觉得学习好的东西会让人变坏呢？这个观点完全无法理喻，也是站不住脚的。我并不是说男人或女人可以去学习巫术或其他禁术，因为教会可不是随便就禁止了这些东西的。但是，说女人会因学习了何为正确何为合理而变坏，这是错误的。

“罗马伟大的雄辩家和演说家昆图斯·霍腾修斯［16］，并不同意这个观点。他有一位叫作霍腾西娅的女儿，他非常喜爱她的机敏。他亲自教育她，教给了她雄辩术。薄伽丘认为她出色到不仅仅是跟她父亲的智慧、敏捷和措辞相似，而且在口才和演讲术上的优秀甚至超越了他。我们之前谈到了妇女带来的益处，而这位淑女的作为尤其值得注目。当时罗马正被后三头［17］统治着，因为罗马面临的严重财政危机，有人建议对妇女特别征税，尤其是对她们的财宝收税。这位霍腾西娅决定为妇女辩护，而这是没有男人敢做的事情。她的演说是如此具有说服力，大家都凝神听她说话，就像是在听她父亲演讲一样。她最终打赢了这场官司。

“让我们从古代回到近代。差不多六十年前在博洛尼亚［18］教书的著名法学家乔瓦尼·安德里亚，也同样反对妇女不该接受教育的观点。他给了爱女诺薇拉非常优秀的教育，包括教给她详尽的法律知识。这样当他在忙碌其他事而不能去教课的时候，就会让他的女儿去替他给学生们授业。诺薇拉讲课时在前面垂了一个帘子，免得学生们为她的美貌分心。她就这样减轻了父亲的负担，把他从部分职责中解放了出来。为了表达对女儿的爱，他把一个重要的法律说明文献命名为La Novella，使她的名字可以流传万代。

“因此并非所有男人，尤其是那些最有智慧的男人，都会同意女性不该受教育的这个观点。但确实那些不怎么聪明的男人会产生这个想法，因为他们不希望妇女比自己知道的多。你自己的父亲，一位伟大的占星家和哲学家，就不相信科学知识会降低女性的价值。你是知道的，看着你学习给他带来了多大的快乐。相反的，正是因为你的母亲作为女性反而认为你应该像其他女孩那样忙碌度日，你才没有能够学习到更高等或更深入的科学。但就像我们之前说的，‘本性难移’。尽管你母亲反对，你还是因为自身的好学而学到了不少知识。在我看来，很明显你并未因为拥有这些知识而贬低自己：你实际上很珍惜它，而这样做是对的。”

我，克里斯蒂娜，于是回答道：“毫无疑问，我的女神，你所说的就像主祷文［19］一样完全正确。”

37．克里斯蒂娜对正直女神的发问，后者从苏珊娜［20］开始举例来反对那些说少有女性是贞洁的看法

“就我所看到的，我的女神，所有的优点和美德都能在女性身上体现，那么为什么这些男人会说没几个女人是贞洁的？如果这是真的的话，那她们所有其他的品质就都毫无价值了，因为贞洁是女人最重要的美德。不过，像你之前所述，事实应该和他们所说的相去甚远。”

正直女神回答道：“正如我之前告诉你、你自己也已经明白了的那样，事实是完全相反的。对于这个问题我可以一直讲到时间的尽头。圣经提到了这么多出色又忠贞的淑女，她们宁死也不愿丧失身体贞操和道德良心。其中一位坚贞可爱的淑女就是苏珊娜，约阿希姆的妻子，他是位富有又有影响力的犹太人。有一天，这位诚实的淑女漫步在自家花园，两个年老男子接近了她。他们是假神父，想把她引向罪孽。看到她断然拒绝了他们的接近，连恳求也完全无效，他们就威胁要向法庭告发她跟年轻男人通奸。听到这样的威胁，也清楚通奸的女人是要被判以石块砸死的，她喊道：‘我现在真是进退维谷，因为如果我拒绝这些男人，我的肉身就会被处以死刑；但是如果我屈从了他们的要求，我就会在创世者眼中犯下罪孽。那么我宁可清白地去死，也不愿用罪行来激怒上帝。’苏珊娜因此高声喊叫起来，家里的其他人立刻冲了出来。长话短说，后来假神父们想方设法让法庭确信了他们的伪证，苏珊娜因此被判处了死刑。但一直在看着的上帝让预言者丹尼尔开口了，那时候他还是个母亲怀中的小孩：当这孩子看到苏珊娜被带向刑场，后面跟着一大群抽泣着的人时，就为这位无辜受刑的妇女哭了出来。她于是被带回了法庭，假神父在那里被仔细盘问并自己供认了罪行。就这样，无罪的苏珊娜被拯救了，而他们则被处罚了。”

……

44．为反驳那些说妇女希望被强暴的人，这里举了一系列例子，第一个是卢克雷蒂娅

我，克里斯蒂娜，于是说道：“我的女神，我完全相信你所说的，我确信很多美丽的女人是正派诚实的，也足以在面对引诱者的陷阱时保护自己。因此当男人们说女人希望被强暴时，我就觉得十分愤慨和难过。他们说女人即使嘴上拒绝，也不会介意被暴力推倒。我无法相信女性会从被这样粗暴的对待中获得乐趣。”

正直女神回答说：“我亲爱的朋友，你可以确信那些贞洁而有道德操守的女性不会从被强暴中获得快乐。正相反，她们觉得这是可能发生在自己身上的最糟糕的事情。有很多例子，比如卢克雷蒂娅，可以证明这一点。卢克雷蒂娅是罗马一位出身高贵的淑女，并且是罗马最贞洁的女性，她嫁给了贵族塔昆努斯·克拉迪努斯。很不幸，罗马君主卢修斯·塔克文·苏佩布［21］也为她深深倾倒了。他很清楚卢克雷蒂娅是多么的贞洁，因此不敢直接去接近她。因为知道诱惑和祈求都是没有用的，他于是开始打算用诡计得到她。他装成是她丈夫的好朋友，这样就可以在她家中来去自如。塔克文趁她丈夫不在家的某天到访，被高贵的女主人以最尊贵的礼节接待，就像对待她丈夫最好的朋友那样。那天晚上，心怀鬼胎的塔克文潜入了卢克雷蒂娅的卧室，把她吓得魂飞魄散。简单来说，在对她做了无数金银财宝的许诺之后，他发现恳求是无用的。于是他拔出剑，威胁如果她出声拒绝就杀了她。她于是让他动手，宁死也不愿意屈从。当发现威胁也无用之后，塔克文又想出一个卑鄙的办法，他声称会对外公布他发现她跟自己的一个仆人搞在一起。长话短说，相信塔克文会这么做的想法吓坏了她，于是终于屈从了他。

“但是卢克雷蒂娅并不能轻易承受这可怕的罪过。当早晨来临时，她就去找到她的丈夫、父亲和其他近亲，他们都是罗马显赫的市民。她一边呜咽一边向他们供认了发生在自己身上的罪行。当她的丈夫和家人试图安慰她以解除她强烈的痛苦时，她从罩袍中拔出一把小刀，说：‘尽管我能开脱我的罪行并证明我是无辜的，但我还是无法摆脱痛苦和煎熬：从今天开始以我身上发生的事为鉴，女人不需要再生活在因类似事情所带来的羞愧和耻辱中。’说完这些话，她就把刀深深扎进了自己的胸膛，在自己的丈夫和他的朋友们面前当场毙命。他们像疯了一样冲向了塔克文。整个罗马都被此事激怒了：他们废黜了国王，并且险些杀掉他的儿子，只是没能找到他。从此之后罗马就再也没有过国王了。有些人说，鉴于发生在卢克雷蒂娅身上的暴行，罗马通过了一条法律，明文规定对妇女施暴者判处死刑，这是一条符合道德的合适而公正的法令。”

……

47．驳倒认为女性反复无常的证据：克里斯蒂娜提问，正直女神用数位善变而不可靠的皇帝为例作答

“我的女神，你谈到的妇女都显然是非常坚定、刚毅和忠诚的。可不可以说她们已经能跟最强的男人相媲美了呢？但男人们，特别是那些作者们众口一词的指责就是，女性是易变、浮躁、轻率、轻浮和优柔寡断的，她们像孩子一样易受人影响并且完全没有决断力。那么男人就很坚定吗？因为他们总是在责备女人易变，却从没有听他们说过男人犹豫不决。如果他们自己实际上也是反复无常的，还要去指责别人跟自己一样的缺点，或者坚持认为其他人应该有他们自身所不具备的美德，那这种行为就是让人完全无法接受的了。”

正直女神的回答是：“我最亲爱的朋友，你没听到人们常说，傻瓜很快就能看到邻居眼中的刺，却很难看到自己眼中有梁木吗？［22］我会给你看看，男人批判女人善变和反复无常是多么的荒唐不合理。他们的理论是这样的。首先，他们假定妇女先天就是软弱的。然后，他们在指责过女性这个弱点之后就认为自己是坚定的，至少比女人要坚定。实际上他们对女性坚定性的要求，要远远高于他们自己所能做到的。尽管他们自认为是坚强而高贵的，但当他们面对人性的一些可怕的弱点时，也并不能阻止自己沦陷其中。而且这并不总是不小心走入歧途的，反而经常是蓄意为之的，因为他们知道自己当下正在犯罪。但是他们之后会给自己开脱说，是人都会犯错。但如果是一位女性做了错事，而且这通常是出于一个男人纠缠不休的诡计，那你看着吧，他们就会宣扬说这是由于女性天生的软弱和善变造成的了。既然他们认为女人是如此柔弱的，那说句实话，他们就更应该去包容女性的弱点才对，更不能当同样的罪行发生在自己身上时说成是微不足道的小错，在女性身上时就指责为滔天大罪。因为没有法律、也没有文字曾说过他们被允许犯比女性更多的错，或者说过他们的弱点更可以被原谅。虽然如此，他们还是给自己树立了道德权威，远非是放过女性，反倒是把自己所有的过错和罪行都推卸到了女性身上。可是，如果女性在这样的罪行前表现出坚定和顽强，他们也完全不会去赞赏。所以无论是什么观点，男人们从任何角度都是有话可说的，而且都会证明自己是对的。你自己也在《上帝的爱之信笺》里用很长的篇幅讨论过这点。

“你之前问我，是否男人都是正直和可敬的，以至于他们可以去指控别人善变。我会说如果你从古代开始考察人类历史直到今日，从书中汲取例子加上你过去的所见所闻，还有现在仍旧能看到的，不仅观察下层社会或未经教化的男人，也去看看上层社会的男人，你就能自己评判他们到底展现过怎样完美的坚持和定力了！当然这只是绝大多数男人的情况，感谢上帝，还有那么一些男人是聪明和坚强不渝的。

“如果你让我给你一些从古到今的摇摆不定的男人的例子，因为男人们一直在攻击女性的这个弱点，好像他们自己的心从未动摇过似的，那我们就来看看那些最有权势的贵族们和最显赫的男人们是怎样的吧。我举他们的例子是因为，这些人一旦犯错，所带来的影响要比一般人大得多。更不用提有多少皇帝曾有过这样的过错了！我来问你，会有女人比罗马帝国皇帝克劳狄一世更为软弱、胆小而可悲吗？他是如此善变，朝令夕改到上一分钟做的决定下一分钟就会推翻。你没法相信他说的话，因为他会同意任何人说的任何话。他在震怒中下令杀掉了自己的妻子，然后当晚却问她为什么没有回卧室来睡觉！对那些被他砍了头的朋友们，他还派人去告诉他们应该来找自己玩！他缺乏勇气，所以一直处于一种惶恐的状态中，也无法信任任何人。我还能告诉你什么呢？所有道德和精神上的弱点在这位糟糕透顶的皇帝身上都能找到。但是我为什么要特别提到他呢？他是唯一一个坐在皇位上却有着这些弱点的统治者吗？提庇留皇帝就好些吗？他难道不是比任何女人都更加摇摆善变而又淫荡吗？”

48．关于尼禄［23］

“既然我们正在讨论皇帝，那就来说说尼禄怎么样？他的善变和软弱是显而易见的。他一开始还彬彬有礼地想要取悦每一个人，但是很快，他的色欲、凶残和贪婪就都失去了控制。为了更好地放纵自己的恶习，他经常半夜全副武装地跟犯罪同伙们出去寻找堕落的场所，满城乱转以满足自己的淫欲取乐。为了给自己的肮脏行径找借口，尼禄会故意去撞街上的行人，如果他们出言不逊，他就会攻击然后杀掉他们。他闯入小酒馆和妓院强暴妇女，有一次差点被一位受害妇女的丈夫杀死。他组织过通宵达旦的淫荡洗浴聚会和宴会。他会随着自己变化无常的想法一会儿下令这样一会儿下令那样。尼禄纵容肉欲，变态而放肆，傲慢并且挥霍无度。他偏爱恶人却迫害忠良。他曾参与谋杀自己的父亲，后来下令杀了自己的母亲。她死后，他还让人剖开她的身体，要看看自己当年被孕育的地方。看到了这样的她，尼禄宣布说她曾是一位美丽的女性。他杀掉了他的第一任妻子，一位高贵的女性屋大维娅，娶了第二位妻子。但他也只是开始喜欢，后来杀了她。他还下令处死了他长辈的妻子克劳迪娅，因为后者拒绝嫁给他。尼禄还杀掉了他不满七岁的继子，仅仅因为他在玩耍时被人说举止像是皇帝的儿子。

“尼禄的老师，著名哲学家塞内卡［24］，也被皇帝下令处死，因为他无法隐藏自己对眼前发生的一切的羞耻感。尼禄假装给自己的老师治疗牙疼，用药毒死了他。同样，他也赐给最显赫的贵族们和德高望重的巨头们下过毒的饮食，尽管他们都位高权重。他不仅谋杀了他的姑母以攫取她的全部财产，还毁掉了罗马所有最尊贵的家族，在流放他们的途中杀光了他们的孩子。他训练了一个凶残的埃及人来吃人肉，以便把活人喂给他吞噬。我还能说什么？要讲述他所有的邪恶或骇人听闻的罪行是不可能的。最终，他把罗马城付之一炬，让它烧了整整六天六夜。很多人在这场可怕的灾难中丧生，而他却站在自己的塔楼里唱着歌，看着城市陷入火海地狱，还高兴地欣赏着火焰的壮丽。他在晚餐桌上下令杀掉了圣彼得和圣保罗，以及很多其他的殉道者。十四年以来他一直这样统治着，直到罗马人民最终忍无可忍而起义推翻了他。他最后在绝望中结束了自己的生命。”

……

53．在正直女神谈完了坚定的女性之后，克里斯蒂娜问她为什么以前这些可敬的女性并没有驳斥男人和那些诽谤女性的书，正直女神给出了答案

以上就是正直女神给我讲的故事。因为篇幅所限我没法再深入讲解她说过的其他例子，比如一位希腊女性莱俄伊娜拒绝控告她的两位朋友，宁可在法官面前咬掉自己的舌头，来表明无论他如何折磨她，也无法迫使她说出他想要的东西来。正直女神还告诉了我其他一些意志坚强的女性，宁可饮下毒药自杀也不肯背弃事实和正义的故事。我于是对她说：“我的女神，你很清楚地向我展现了女性在各种美德之外，还有着多么坚定持久的意志力。这样说来，还会有男人比女性更为出色吗？所以我很诧异，有这么多可敬的女性，尤其是那些学识渊博，可以写出优美著作的女性，会容忍男人们长久以来的污蔑而不去反驳。她们应该非常清楚这些男人的指控有多么荒谬啊。”

正直女神回答道：“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，这个问题很好回答。从我给你讲的你应该已经意识到了，我们讨论的那些品德高尚的淑女都活跃在各自的领域里，而并非是协商好一起朝着同一个目标努力的。构建城市的工作是留给你来做的，而不是她们，因为她们的作品本身就已足够让有判断力和学识的人来欣赏佩服女性了，根本不需要她们再去写些什么来说明这点。至于说还没有人驳斥过那些攻击和批判女性的男人们，我可以告诉你，凡事都有它发生的时机和地点。你想想看，上帝让那些跟他律法相违背的异端邪说兴盛了多久，这说明它们是很难被剿灭的，而且如果没有被摧毁的话还会流传至今。有很多事物都是这样毫无阻碍地兴盛起来的，而时限一到就会被驳倒了。”

我，克里斯蒂娜，又对她说道：“我的女神，你说得很对。但我也确信这段话肯定会引来很多异议。他们会说，尽管过去或现在的一些女性也许很有品行，但这并不代表所有的、哪怕只是大多数的女性都会如此。”

正直女神回答道：“说大部分女性都没有美德肯定是不对的。我之前给你讲的已经很清楚地说明这一点了：经验告诉我们，无论是工作日还是休息日，任何人都能看到妇女是多么的虔诚、慈爱和善良，更不用说她们绝不是那数不清的犯罪和暴行的始作俑者了。说以上每条都是美德一点也不过分。当上帝派先知约拿去人口众多的大型都市尼尼微［25］，如果那里的人们不忏悔罪行就毁灭它时，那里连一个好男人都找不出来。所多玛［26］也没有一个体面的男人，当罗得离开这个被天降的硫磺与火吞没的城市时，这一点已经再明显不过了。此外，你也不该忘记耶稣基督的同伴只有十二位，还有一个是恶魔。再来想想那些居然说所有女人都应该是品德高尚的，否则就该被投以石块处死的男人！我想请他们好好看看自己，然后让没有罪的那位站出来投第一块石头。［27］此外，他们自己又该追求什么样的品行？我可以告诉你，等到全体男人都达到了完美境地的那一天，妇女就可以以他们为榜样了。”

54．克里斯蒂娜问正直女神有些男人所说的“极少有女人对爱情忠贞”是否正确，以及正直女神的回答

我，克里斯蒂娜，又开口继续另一个论题：“我的女神，让我们把这些放在一边，再来看看别的话题。我想问你一些跟我们之前谈论的稍稍有点不同的问题。我希望你不会介意讨论我想说的这些：尽管这件事本身跟自然规律有关，但它多少还是逾越了理性的行为。”

正直女神说：“我的朋友，你尽可以直言不讳。若是学生出于求知而向老师提出问题，那就不应该因为触及到了什么而被谴责。”

“我的女神，这世上有一种自然的魅力，让男人被女人吸引，女人被男人吸引。这不是社会规则，而是肉体的本能：被色欲所激发，两性会以一种野性的激情相爱。没有哪方明白自己为什么会如此为对方所倾倒，但他们屈服于这种感情，并且称之为情爱。男人们通常说，尽管恋爱中的女人会做出忠诚的承诺，但她不仅轻易地更换着情人，而且还很无情、阴险和虚伪。他们坚称女人的这种轻浮是因为她们缺乏道德意识。在所有作过这样批判的作者中，奥维德在《爱的艺术》中所说的尤其恶毒。在攻击了妇女在爱情上缺乏坚定性之后，奥维德和所有其他人都接着宣称，他们写这些关于妇女的虚伪和罪孽的书是为了公众利益：他们的目的是警告男人们小心女人的欺诈，还有教育他们如何躲避她们，就好像妇女是草丛里隐藏的蛇一样。我亲爱的女神，请告诉我这件事情的真相吧。”

正直女神回答道：“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，关于他们所说的女性的诡诈，我不知道我还有什么可以告诉你的。你自己在《爱神之书》和《玫瑰浪漫之书》中驳斥奥维德和其他人时，也曾长篇讨论过这个问题。但是回到你所说的，这些男人号称写书是为了公众利益这点上，我可以证明给你看绝对不是这么回事。原因很简单：如果一个事物不是对整个城市、国家或一群人有普遍好处的话，那它就不能被称作是公众利益。女性和男性应该是同等受益的。那些仅仅是为一部分人利益所做的事，是应该叫作私人利益或个人利益的，并不是公众利益。更何况，那些为部分人利益而损害其他人的事，就不只是私人利益或个人利益的问题了，这实际上等同于损人利己：受益方的花销是靠对方买单的。这些作者绝不会让妇女去提防男人给她们设下的陷阱，尽管谁也无法否认，男人其实经常会用他们虚伪的外表和狡猾的诡计去欺骗女性。此外，女性跟男性一样是由上帝创造的人类，这一点也是毋庸置疑的。她们并非是另一种生物或者一个独特的种群，要真是那样她们倒或许可以被排除在道德教育之外了。因此我只能总结说，如果这些作者真是为了公众利益，那他们就应该在建议男人小心女人的同时，也警告女人那些男人们设下的陷阱。

“让我们先把这些放在一边，回到你之前问的问题。我前面给你讲的那些例子里，妇女们坚持忠贞直到生命的最后一刻，这还不够证明女性的心灵远非这些作者们所说的，在爱情上是善变薄情的吗？她们实际上是异常坚定的。”

……

62．克里斯蒂娜向正直女神发问，后者在回答中驳斥了那些宣称妇女用魅力吸引男人的观点

我，克里斯蒂娜，又问道：“我的女神，直到你说激情就像是凶险的海面之前都是完全正确的。从我的见闻来看，任何稍有判断力的女性都应该尽全力去避免激情，因为它只会带来巨大的伤害。但是那些穿着优雅希望借此更漂亮妩媚的女人们就招来了很多批判，因为有人说她们这样做只是为了吸引男人的注意力。”

正直女神回答道：“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，我并不想帮那些过分讲究衣着外表的女人找借口，因为这可不是人性上的小缺点。穿不合自己身份的衣着尤其该受到谴责。但是我也不希望任何人认为自己有资格去苛责那些打扮漂亮的人，我这么说当然并不是想要宽恕这种恶行。我可以向你保证，并非所有这样做的女人都是想去勾引男人的。有些人，不光是女人，男人也一样，纯粹是喜欢漂亮的东西以及精美昂贵的服饰，就像喜欢干净整洁的衣服那样。如果天性如此，那他们就很难抗拒这点了，当然若能做到则是很应该被褒奖的。我们的主是向穷人传道的，但十二门徒之一、出身高贵的巴多罗买，不就是被记载一直穿着缀满宝石的丝质流苏长袍吗？尽管这种举动通常都是狂妄的炫耀，但巴多罗买却不该因此被说成是有罪的，因为他的天性就是喜欢穿贵重的衣服。即便如此，也还是有些人说主是因此而让他被剥皮殉道的。我说这些是想告诉你，任何人去评判他人的外表都是错误的：只有上帝才有权力来审判我们。我现在来给你举一些关于这个话题的例子。”

……

64．正直女神解释说有美德的女性比有魅力的女性更容易被深爱

“就算我们假定女人们花很大的力气把自己打扮得美丽诱惑、高贵迷人，确实是因为想去吸引男人的注意力，我也会向你证明，那些体面明智的男人并不会更快更深地为之倾倒。正相反，这些重视品格的男人会更容易被可敬、正直和谦逊的女性所吸引，并且爱得更深，哪怕她们没有那么光鲜亮丽。有些人就会反驳说，既然吸引男人不是件好事，那么那些用美德和谦逊来引人眼球的女人，也根本不要有这些优秀品质不是更好吗？这种说法是完全不足取的：人不该仅仅因为一些傻瓜把优良有用的品德用错了地方，就拒绝去培养这些品德；无论发生什么，每一个人都应该尽责地端正自己的行为。

“我现在给你一些例子来证明，很多女性因为她们的正直和道德而被爱。特别是我要给你讲的一些天堂里的圣人，她们因其圣洁而被男人们渴求着。我之前说的被强暴的卢克雷蒂娅就是这样的。使得塔克文为她倾倒的是她典范性的美德，而不仅仅是美貌。一个晚上，她的丈夫正在跟其他骑士进晚餐，其中就有这位塔克文。他们开始谈论各自的妻子，都认为自己的妻子是最有美德的。为了找出谁最符合这一殊荣，他们就动身去突击拜访各家，褒奖那些正忙着光明正大的事情的妻子们。在她们中间，卢克雷蒂娅被认为是最值得称赞的。她正如一个端庄审慎的女性那样，穿着朴实无华的长袍，跟家中的其他女性坐在一起织着羊毛，谈论着道德上的话题。陪同她丈夫的塔克文王子，被她的正直、单纯而值得赞赏的行为以及端庄的举止所深深打动，由此产生了想要占有她的欲望，并谋划出了之后的恶行。”

……

66．克里斯蒂娜向正直女神发问，后者在回答中驳斥了那些声称女性天性刻薄的说法

“我不知道还要问你些什么，我的女神，因为你已经回答过我所有的问题了。那么多男人对女性的攻击也似乎已经被你全面反驳了。就我所能看到的，他们常说的，贪婪是妇女最常见的恶习这一点，也并非事实。”

正直女神回答说：“我亲爱的朋友，我可以向你保证，女性天生可不比男性更贪婪。实际上，贪心的女人比男人要少：就像上帝知道的、你自己也清楚的那样，由于男人的贪婪导致在世上蔓延的可怕恶魔，要比女人带来的多得多。但是就像我之前给你指出的那样，一个傻瓜能很快地指出邻居的恶习，却对自己的罪行视而不见。

“仅仅因为女性喜欢收集衣服、针头线脑和其他对于家庭来说必不可少的小东西，她们就落下了个贪婪的名声。相信我，有无数的女性若自己富有的话，都会毫不犹豫地去赠予那些她们认为会明智地用这些钱的人。另一方面，贫穷的女性就不得不去锱铢必较了。总的来说，妇女们拿到的钱是不够花的，所以才会紧紧抓住手里的那一点，因为她们知道不可能再奢求更多了。有些人指责妇女贪婪，仅仅因为她们抱怨自己那刚愎自用又挥霍无度的丈夫，并恳求他们谨慎花钱。这些女性非常清楚，是自己丈夫愚蠢的浪费让家中缺钱，导致她们和可怜的孩子们不得不受苦的。因此这些行为并不能说明这些女人是贪婪的，而正相反，是节俭的一个表现。当然，我说的只是那些谨慎地劝诫丈夫的妇女们，否则如果丈夫不喜欢被人批评，这就可能会造成严重的争执，他最后会去攻击自己那本应得到褒奖的妻子。为了证明这个恶习在女性中远非有些人说的那么普遍，让我们来看看她们经常热心做的救济吧。上帝很清楚，从过去到现在，有多少囚犯被女性的施舍慰藉和支持过，就连在遥远的阿拉伯国家的囚犯也是一样；更不用提有多少穷人、落魄贵族还有各色人等都受到过她们的帮助了。”

我，克里斯蒂娜，于是说：“我的女神，你刚说的话确实让我想起了我所见过的，所有尽其所能乐善好施的可敬淑女们。我知道我有些朋友非常高兴能对那些会好好用钱的人说‘来，拿上这个’，这远比守财奴在敛财存钱时所获得的快乐要多得多。我不明白男人们为什么要到处去说女性是贪婪的。尽管人们说亚历山大大帝以慷慨著称，我可以说我并不这么认为！”

正直女神笑了起来，回答说：“我的朋友，罗马的妇女们肯定不希望她们的城市被战争耗空、公共储备被军队用尽。当时罗马人急需钱财来支持他们庞大的军队，于是罗马的妇女们，包括寡妇在内，都出于慷慨大度拿出了自己的珠宝和所有值钱的物品，堆成一堆捐给了城里的贵族。这些妇女因她们无私的行为而被高度赞扬，之后珠宝也被退还给了她们，这确实是感谢她们拯救了罗马财富的公正做法。”

……

68．关于法国的公主和贵妇

我再一次插话道：“我的女神，既然你提到了我同时代的这位女性，并且开始谈论法国的，以及居住在这里的淑女们，我想问问你对这些女性的印象。你觉得有必要请她们中的一些加入我们的城市吗？她们是否不如外国的女性？”

正直女神回答道：“当然，克里斯蒂娜，我可以向你保证她们中有很多我想邀请的善良女性。

“首先，我们不会拒绝高贵的现任法国女王、巴伐利亚的伊莎贝拉［28］，她正蒙上帝的恩惠统治着我们。她没有一丝一毫的残忍、贪婪，或其他的恶习，因为她的本性完全是仁慈善良的。

“年轻的贝里公爵夫人也同样值得赞美，她是一位聪慧美丽又温柔的淑女，嫁给了法国国王‘好人’约翰二世的儿子、已故国王‘英明’查理五世的弟弟，约翰公爵。这位可敬的公爵夫人是如此节制谨慎，尽管她还非常年轻，但每个人都在颂扬她表率性的举止。

“关于奥尔良公爵夫人我还能说些什么呢？她是已故米兰公爵的女儿、‘英明’查理五世之子路易斯公爵的夫人。还会有哪位淑女比她更稳重吗？所有人都能很明白地看到她不仅为人坚定，也非常爱她的丈夫，是她的孩子们的优秀榜样。除此之外，她在自己的事上也非常机敏，对所有人一视同仁，举止冷静并且兼具了所有美德。

“勃艮第公爵夫人是已故法王约翰二世之子‘勇敢’菲利普二世的儿子、‘无畏的约翰’的妻子。关于她还有更多可说的吗？她不也是一位上等的淑女吗？对丈夫忠诚，仁慈而赞赏他人，道德无瑕，且没有什么缺点。

“克莱蒙伯爵夫人是贝里公爵和他第一任妻子的女儿，嫁给了波旁公爵的继承人约翰·克莱蒙伯爵。她拥有一位高贵公主所应有的所有品质，包括对丈夫的深情和出色的教养，更不必提她的美貌、智慧和善良了。她的美德则因为高贵的举止而更为耀眼。

“在所有这些淑女中，有一位是你非常喜欢，并从她的优秀品质、仁慈和关爱中受到过恩惠的：尊贵的荷兰女公爵及埃诺女伯爵杰奎琳，她是已故的勃艮第公爵‘好人’菲利普三世的女儿，也就是现任公爵的姐姐。这位淑女难道不该因为她在个人生活上的忠诚、节俭和谨慎，以及她对神的无私而强烈的信仰，而跻身最优秀的女性之列吗？简单来说，她就是善良本身。

“波旁公爵夫人不也应该因为她是这样一位可敬的淑女，而跟其他贵妇一样被后世称颂，被全力赞美吗？

“我还能跟你说什么？要让我列举这些淑女们的优点可就没完没了了！

“圣波勒伯爵夫人是巴尔公爵的女儿、法王的表妹，也因为她的善良美丽、品德高尚而在这些优秀的淑女中有一席之地。

“同样，另一位你喜欢的淑女安妮，也就是已故拉马什伯爵的女儿、现任公爵的妹妹，嫁给了法国王后的哥哥、巴伐利亚公爵路易斯七世。她在这群杰出的女性之中也绝不显得逊色。上帝和整个世界都能见证她的美德。

“我们尽可以无视那些造谣中伤者，有无数的伯爵夫人、贵族女性、未婚女性、中产阶级以及各阶层妇女都是可敬和出色的。感谢上帝让她们保持了这样的美德，也愿上帝能激励那些尚未达到完美的女人们能去修正自己的所作所为。你必须对此深信不疑，因为我可以向你保证，无论那些因为嫉妒而想造谣中伤女性的人会怎么唱反调，这都绝对是事实真相。”

我，克里斯蒂娜，于是回答道：“我的女神，听到你这样说我真的非常高兴。”

她于是对我说：“我亲爱的朋友，我觉得我现在已经完成建筑淑女之城的任务了。我不仅为你建起了美丽的王宫、豪华的宅邸，而且也请来了大量各个阶层的出色淑女来住满了这些建筑物。现在我的姐妹公正女神将要来完成给这个城市收尾的工作，我也要就此打住了。”

69．克里斯蒂娜对公主及其他淑女们讲话

“最出色、正直和可敬的法国和各国贵族们，各位淑女、少女还有各个阶层的女性们，你们这些过去，或现在，或将来会热爱美德和品行的女性们：请抬起头来，在你们的城市里欢庆吧。它在上帝的帮助下即将竣工，辉煌壮丽的房屋中几乎已经住满了居民。感谢上帝为了满足我给你们建立一个高尚的永久住所的愿望，带我走过这段艰辛的学习历程，建起了这个让你们可以永久居住的城市。我一路走来，希望能与公正女神一起最终完成这个使命。她已经答应我会不停地工作，直到我们竭尽全力建成这个城市，关上城门的那个时刻。那么，为我祈祷吧，我可敬的淑女们！”

《淑女之城》第二部分结束。

注释

［1］　Delphi，所有古希腊城邦共同的圣地。

［2］　Hellespont，今达达尼尔海峡。

［3］　Thuringia，现图林根自由邦（德语：Freistaat Thüringen），是德国十六邦之一，面积在联邦中列第十一位。图林根绿色植被覆盖良好，加之位于德国中部，被称作“德国的绿色心脏”。

［4］　Francesco Petrarca, 1304—1374，意大利学者、诗人和早期的人文主义者，亦被视为人文主义之父。

［5］　Laodicea，弗里吉亚的古代都市（也归属于卡里亚和吕底亚），兴建于安纳托利亚的吕卡士河（Lycus）河畔，位于现代土耳其代尼兹利省内。

［6］　Mithridates，公元前132/131—前63，本都王国国王（公元前121—前63在位），是罗马共和国末期地中海地区的重要政治人物，也是罗马最著名的敌人之一。他与罗马之间为争夺安纳托利亚而进行的三次战争，历史上称为“米特利达特战争”。

［7］　Pompey，格奈乌斯·庞培，公元前106—前48，古罗马政治家和军事家。勇悍善战，凶残嗜杀，在前三头同盟中势力最强。

［8］　Valerius和Ruffinus，公元278年殉道的两位基督教圣徒。在沃尔特·马普（Walter Map, 1140—约1209，英国威尔士诗人、讽刺作家）的作品中有托名瓦列利乌斯给鲁非诺的书信。

［9］　Theophrastus，约公元前371—约前287，公元前4世纪的古希腊哲学家和科学家，先后受教于柏拉图和亚里士多德，后来接替亚里士多德领导其“逍遥学派”。名字解作“神样的说话者”，并非真名，据说是亚里士多德见他口才出众而替他起的名。

［10］　Marcus Porcius Cato Uticensis，公元前95—前46，又名小加图（Cato the Younger），以区别于他的曾祖父老加图（Cato the Elder）。小加图是罗马共和国末期的政治家和演说家，是斯多葛学派的追随者。他因为其传奇般的坚忍和固执而闻名，他不受贿、诚实、厌恶当时普遍的政治腐败。

［11］　Marcus Junius Brutus Caepio，公元前85—前42，是晚期罗马共和国的一名元老院议员，后来组织并参与了对恺撒的谋杀。

［12］　原文如此。

［13］　Gaius Cassius Longinus，公元前85—前42，罗马元老院议员，谋杀恺撒的主谋，也是布鲁图的妻舅。

［14］　Nebuchadnezzar II，约公元前634—前562，是位于巴比伦的伽勒底帝国最伟大的君主，在位时间约为公元前605年至公元前562年。他因在首都巴比伦建成著名的空中花园而为人赞颂，同时也因毁掉了所罗门圣殿而为人熟知。他曾征服了犹太王国和耶路撒冷，并流放了犹太人，圣经上对此也有所记载。

［15］　Sabine，是生活在亚平宁半岛拉丁平原附近的一个部族，和拉丁人一起同为古罗马文明的创立者，罗马最早的三百名元老中即有一百名来自萨宾。

［16］　Quintus Hortensius，公元前114—前50，罗马演说家和辩论家。

［17］　Second Triumvirate，是历史学家给屋大维、马克·安东尼和雷必达组成的官方政治同盟的名称。这个同盟成立于公元前43年11月27日，维持至公元前33年。

［18］　Bologna，意大利城市，位于北部波河与亚平宁山脉之间，也是艾米利亚—罗马涅的首府。

［19］　主祷文，天主教又称天主经，是耶稣传给门徒的祷辞（《马太福音》6：9—13），天主教、东正教和基督教礼拜仪式中通用的祷辞。

［20］　Susanna，即圣安妮，在四福音书或古兰经中都不曾提到她，但传统上认定这是圣母玛利亚之母，耶稣的外祖母的名字。

［21］　Tarquin the Proud Lucius Tarquinius Superbus?—前496，罗马王政时代第七任君主，公元前535年登基，公元前509年被革命推翻。据传他杀死了前任国王塞尔维乌斯·图利乌斯以登上王位。

［22］　参见《马太福音》7：1—5。

［23］　Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, 37—68，罗马帝国皇帝，54—68年在位。他是罗马帝国朱里亚·克劳狄王朝的最后一任皇帝，是古罗马乃至欧洲历史上有名的残酷暴君。

［24］　Seneca，约公元前4—公元65，古罗马时代著名斯多亚学派哲学家。曾任尼禄皇帝的导师及顾问。

［25］　Nineveh，为古代亚述帝国的重镇之一，位于底格里斯河东岸，在今日伊拉克北部城市摩苏尔附近。

［26］　Sodom，首次出现在旧约圣经的记载当中，这座城市位于死海的东南方，如今已沉没在水底。依圣经记载，所多玛是一个耽溺男色而淫乱、不忌讳同性性行为的城市。上帝决意要毁灭所多玛与蛾摩拉二城，差派天使前往营救了罗得一家。

［27］　参见《约翰福音》8：3—11。

［28］　Isabeau de Bavière，德语：Isabella von Bayern, 1371—1435，维特尔斯巴赫王朝的公主，1385年至1422年为法国国王查理六世的王后，查理七世的母亲。作者写书时正当政。

第三部分

1．第一章　详细叙述公正女神是如何将圣母请入淑女之城的

公正女神非常满意地走向我说道：“克里斯蒂娜，在我看来你已经尽全力来完成你的使命了。在我姐妹们的帮助下，你把淑女之城建得让人非常满意。就像我承诺的那样，现在轮到我来最后主持它完工了。我会给你请来最尊贵的女王，她是最神圣的女性，将率领她的仆从们居住在这里。她会统治这个城市，并带来她治下的最优秀的淑女。我看到现在宫殿和华屋已经装饰完成准备停当，街道也都铺满了鲜花，迎接女王及她出色的淑女随行们驾临的准备都已做好了。

“那么就让公主、淑女和各个阶层的女性们都上前来，恭迎这位不仅仅是统治着她们、也是以至高无上的权威统治着地上的女王吧，她的地位仅次于她受圣灵感孕而生的圣父之子。所有的妇女都应该聚在一起来祈求这位崇高、尊贵的伟大女性能纡尊降贵，到我们的城市来成为我们的一员。她也不会因为她们的卑微与自己的反差而鄙视她们。出于过人的谦逊和胜过天使的善良，她毫无疑问会同意住在淑女之城。她会住在最高的宫殿中，那是我的姐妹正直女神为她准备的，全部用荣誉和赞美建造的殿堂。

“现在请每一位妇女上前来，跟我一起说：‘我们恭迎您，圣母，用和天使向您传报一样的“万福玛利亚”来向您致意，因为这比其他任何称谓都更让您欣喜。现在全体女性都恳求您能与她们为伍、做她们的保护人，将您的慈悲和怜悯恩泽到她们身上，在来自敌人和外界的攻击中保护她们。请让她们畅饮源自您的美德的泉水，望她们能就此满足并学会拒绝一切恶习和罪恶。请来到我们中间，您是天上的女王、我主的神殿、圣灵的隐修地、三位一体的居所、天使的喜乐、迷途者的光明与指引，以及笃信者的希望。哦，我的女神，在看到您的崇高之后，谁还敢动念去想，更不必提敢去说女性是卑鄙的了！即使所有其他女性是有罪的，您善良的光辉也耀眼到照亮了一切的邪恶。神决定让一位女性做圣母并选择了您，最出色的淑女。因为您伟大的价值，所有的男人都不仅应该停止攻击女性，更应该对她们致以最高的尊敬。’”

这位贞女回答道：“我圣子垂青的公正女神，我很乐意与这些女性同住，她们是我的姐妹和朋友，我也会站到她们身边。这是因为理性、正直和你，公正女神，甚至还有天性女神，都劝说过我如此去做。女性对我的侍奉、尊敬和赞扬都未曾有止境，因此我从今往后都应当成为女性的领头人。上帝自身一直希望如此，这是由三位一体所注定了的。”

侧立在所有俯首跪下的女性身边，公正女神回答道：“我的女神，愿您被永世赞美和称颂。拯救我们吧，我们的女神，替我们向您的圣子说情，他是不会拒绝您的任何请求的。”

……

3．关于亚历山大的圣加大肋纳［1］

“我们请来陪伴淑女之城的女王，也就是荣福圣母的女性们，都是圣洁的处女和神圣的妇女。这样我们可以证明上帝是垂爱女性的，尽管这些女性柔弱年轻，上帝给了她们跟男性一样的力量和坚毅，以便为保护神圣的信仰而去承受可怕的殉道，这些女性其实更为纤弱和年轻。所有女性都可以从这些淑女们的经历中受益。她们头上笼罩着圣光，因为她们所能传授的要比其他任何人都有启发得多，她们也因此成为本城最受尊崇的居民。

“其中最显赫的模范女性是圣加大肋纳，她是亚历山大［2］国王高士底的女儿。尽管这位富有的未婚少女在继承父亲国土时只有十八岁，但她还是在处理个人生活和公众事务上表现出了敏锐的判断力。她是一位基督徒，拒绝结婚，希望能全身心地奉献给神。有一天，罗马帝国皇帝马克森提乌斯［3］来到亚历山大，要为异教神进行一场重要的祭祀。加大肋纳在宫中听见了正在被准备为仪式杀戳的动物的咆哮声和喧闹的音乐声。她派人去打探情形，却被告知皇帝已经抵达神殿要开始祭祀了。她一听到这个消息就来到皇帝面前，开始向他阐述他这种做法的错误性。因为加大肋纳很精通神学和科学，她运用了哲学论点来证明了只有一个神，也就是创世者，只有他应该被崇敬。当马克森提乌斯听到这位高贵美丽的处女用非凡的权威性说话时，他无言以对，只能震惊地盯着她。他于是去寻找全埃及最睿智的男人，最终从这个以拥有诸多聪慧哲学家著称的国家挑出了五十名带到法庭。当他们被传唤时还非常生气，抱怨说皇帝大老远地把他们请来，居然只是为了跟一个小姑娘辩论。

“让我们长话短说。辩论那天，蒙了圣恩的加大肋纳完全占了上风，他们被她的论述所说服，更无法回答她的问题。皇帝因此大为光火，千方百计地威胁他们，但也都是白费气力。托主的福，他们一个一个都被圣处女的话所折服，皈依了基督教。皇帝在盛怒之下把所有哲学家都处以火刑。这位圣处女在他们殉道时慰藉了他们，向他们保证他们会获得永恒的荣光，并向上帝祈祷保守他们信仰的坚强。就这样多亏了她，他们得以受福殉道。上帝通过他们展示了神迹，因为火不仅没有烧到他们的身体，就连他们的衣服都没有碰到：即使当他们在火中丧生之后，依旧没有一根头发被烧焦，面庞也像是还活着一样。暴君马克森提乌斯强烈地想要得到这位美丽圣洁的加大肋纳，于是开始追求她，希望能让她顺从自己的欲望。但是当他看到这完全是徒劳无功时，他的恳求变成了威胁，最后变成了折磨。他对她处以残酷的鞭笞，然后把她扔进监狱单独监禁了十二天，希望最后看到她被饿到屈服。但是上帝的天使来到她身边救助了她。十二天后，皇帝看见被带到面前的加大肋纳比之前更健康和可爱了，就确信一定有人偷偷去探访了她，于是下令拷问所有的狱卒。加大肋纳出于对他们的怜悯，向马克森提乌斯发誓说她只受到过来自于上帝的慰藉。皇帝再也想不出更加残酷的刑罚了，便听从了他执政长官的建议，制作了一个装着刀刃的磔轮，这些轮子互相碾压，任何卷入它们之间的东西都会被撕成碎片。他让加大肋纳脱光后躺在轮子中间，而她在这过程中一刻也没有停止过双手合十敬拜上帝。天使下来打碎了这些轮子，站在周围的处刑者们反而被碾死了。

“当皇帝的妻子听到加大肋纳身上发生的神迹之后，便皈依了基督教，并且开始责备丈夫的行为。她去监狱探访了圣处女，并恳求她为她自己向上帝祈祷。皇帝因此拷问了他的妻子，并且切掉了她的乳房，这位圣处女于是对她说：‘最尊贵的皇后，别害怕这些酷刑，因为今天你会迎来无尽的喜乐。’暴君将自己的妻子与一大批皈依者一起砍了头。他请求加大肋纳做他的妻子，但意识到她对此置若罔闻之后，最终也打算将她斩首。在她的祷词中，她祈求上帝恩泽那些记得她殉道的和那些在痛苦中呼唤她名字的人们。一个声音从天上而来，宣布她的祷告被恩准了。在她殉道结束时，大量的牛奶而非鲜血从她的身体中喷涌而出。天使带走了她圣洁的躯体，并埋葬在了距离亚历山大二十天路程的西奈山。上帝在她的墓上显示了很多神迹，限于篇幅我无法详述：只说墓中流出的一种油治愈了很多疾病这一点就足够了。此后上帝以最可怕的形式惩罚了马克森提乌斯皇帝。”

……

17．关于一位皈依上帝、悔改了的妓女圣阿芙拉

“阿芙拉曾经是一位妓女，后来皈依了基督教。她被带到法官面前，法官问她：‘你用自己的身体去犯罪还嫌不够，还要在信仰上也走错路去崇拜外来神！你要给我们的神做献祭，他们会原谅你的。’阿芙拉回答道：‘我会献祭给我的主，耶稣基督，他为了救赎罪人而来到地上。福音书中说一个有罪的女人用眼泪给他洗脚，然后得到宽恕。他没有鄙视妓女或罪孽的税吏，而是与他们同食共饮。’法官反驳说：‘如果你不想做献祭，你就再也接不到客人，更收不到他们的礼物了。’她回答道：‘我再也不会接受一件受污的礼物了。至于以前那些错误地收下了的，我会让穷人们拿走，并为我的灵魂祈祷。’法官因为拒绝信仰他们的神而将她判了火刑。当就要被送入火中时，她赞美上帝道：‘哦，全能的上帝，耶稣基督，你让所有的罪人忏悔。请接受我此刻的殉道，并请把我从这地狱永火中接走，它现在正要以俗世火焰为表象灼烧我的肉身。’当火苗在她身边舔舐时，她高声喊道：‘我主耶稣基督，请接受我，一个穷困而有罪的女人，以你神圣的名义殉道。你自己一人为世人牺牲，你是一位正直的人却为了世人的罪而被钉上十字架，一位善人却为恶人而受死，一位受福的人却为被诅咒的人而死，一位温柔的人却为了残酷的人而死，一位纯洁无瑕的人却为堕落的人而死。我将我的躯体敬献给你，你与圣父圣灵同在同治。’就这样，蒙福的阿芙拉结束了她的生命，之后主亦借她展现了诸多的神迹。”

18．公正女神谈起几位服侍十二使徒和其他圣人并为他们提供避难所的高贵淑女

“我亲爱的朋友克里斯蒂娜，关于这个话题我还能再说些什么？我可以继续给你详述无数这样的例子。因为你之前说过，你对于写书的人对女性如此多的批判感到震惊，我可以向你保证，无论你在异教书中读到了什么，你在圣经中都不会找到太多对于女性的负面评价，在耶稣基督还有他的十二使徒，甚至圣人们的故事中都是如此。如果你读了这些章节，就会看到无数的女性被上帝赐予了出众的美德和坚贞。妇女们是多么慷慨热忱地对待神的仆人们啊！又曾对他们展示出了多么榜样性的慈悲和忠诚！这么多的庇护和关爱，绝非可以一笔带过的。即使有愚蠢的男人想把这些当成是无足轻重的事忽略掉，根据我们的信仰也无法否认，这些都是通向天堂的阶梯上的横木。

“我们可以引用德鲁夏妮的例子，她是一位高尚的寡妇，将福音书作者圣约翰领到了家中，侍奉他并为他准备餐饭。当约翰从流放中回来，就在全城的人民欢欣鼓舞地去迎接他的同时，德鲁夏妮的遗体正在被下葬。她是因为他的长期离开而悲痛过世的。邻居们告诉他：‘约翰，这里躺着的是德鲁夏妮，她如此仁慈地接待了你，她因为你的离去而辞世。她再也无法服侍你了。’约翰于是喊道：‘站起来，德鲁夏妮！回家去把饭给我做好！’她就从死亡中被带了回来。

“同样，我们还可以说说可敬的苏珊娜，一位来自法国利摩日的贵妇。她是第一位给圣徒马尔蒂阿提供庇护所的人，后者奉使徒彼得之命来到法国传教。这位淑女对他无比仁慈。

“同样，马克西米拉也是如此，她把使徒安德烈从十字架上放下并安葬，却不顾自己的性命安危。

“同样，神圣的处女伊菲格涅亚是使徒马太的忠诚追随者，并在他死后建了一座教堂来纪念他。

“同样，另一位对使徒保罗怀着神圣敬爱的女性，一直跟随着他并勤勉地照顾着他。

“同样，在十二使徒时代，有一位叫海伦的高贵王后，这位海伦并非是那位康斯坦丁大帝的母亲，而是阿迪亚波纳的王后。她到了耶路撒冷，当时这个城市正因为一场饥荒而粮食极度匮乏。当海伦听说我主在耶路撒冷传教的圣徒快要饿死时，就买了足够多的食物供养他们，直到饥荒结束。

“同样，当使徒保罗被尼禄下令即将砍头时，一位曾照顾过他的可敬女性普劳提拉流着苦涩的泪水走到他身边。保罗向她要了蒙在脸上的面纱，用来在行刑时遮住自己的眼睛。当她交给保罗面纱的时候，有些站在周围的恶人还嘲笑她就这么把如此漂亮的东西给扔了。保罗死后，天使把这块染了血的面纱还给了普劳提拉，她从此把它作为贵重的遗物珍藏了起来。之后保罗在她面前现身，说因为她在地上侍奉了自己，自己也将会在天上为她的灵魂祈祷。我可以给你讲很多这类的例子。

“巴西利撒是一位充满怜悯之心的可敬妇女，她是圣徒朱利安的妻子。在婚礼的那天晚上，他们共同约定要守护童贞。这位处女的圣洁是无法衡量的，就像她救助过的女性数目一样无法计数，这些妇女是因她对虔诚生活的教导和鼓励而被救助的。简单来说，她典范性的慈悲为她赢得了神的青睐，以至于我主在她临终前曾与她直接对话。

“我亲爱的克里斯蒂娜，我不知道还有什么可以再对你说的了。我可以给你讲无穷无尽的关于社会各个阶层的女性的事迹，无论是处女、妻子还是寡妇，她们出众的坚强和不屈不挠，都以自身为例展示了上帝的神迹。我的话到此为止了。在我看来，正如我承诺的那样，我已经很好地完成了这个城市的角楼，也请来了杰出的淑女入住。最后的这些例子将会成为我们的城门和吊闸。尽管我远没有一一列举那些神圣的女性，无论是过去的、现在的，还是将要来临的——因为这是不可能做到的——但她们都同样可以在淑女之城找到自己的一席之地。对此我们会说：‘Gloriosa dicta sunt de te, civitas Dei.’［4］现在它业已完工，城门也已关紧锁牢。我将如我所言，把它就此交付与你。永别了，愿神赐的和平永远陪伴你们！”

19．本书的完结：克里斯蒂娜对全体女性讲话

“最值得尊敬的淑女们，感谢上帝：我们城市的建设终于画上了句号。所有钟爱美德、荣誉和高贵名声的女性都可在城中找到华丽的栖身之所，不仅仅是过去的女性，现在和未来的女性皆如此，因为这个城市就是为了所有该受赏的女性而建立的。我最亲爱的淑女们，当看到经过努力击退敌人取得胜利时，人类的心灵会自然而然充满喜悦。从这一刻开始，我的淑女们，你们就可以看着新城竣工而尽情享受快乐了，当然要以虔诚和体面的合适方式享受快乐。这里不仅会给你们，或者说是你们中间证明了自己的价值的那部分人提供遮蔽，而且如果好好照管的话，更能替你们抵御反对者的攻击，从而保护你们。你们能看到，它是用美德制成，闪闪发亮到能看见人的倒影，特别是本书最后部分建起的高耸的角楼。而前两部分与你们相关的建筑也是一样的精致。我最爱的淑女们，我请求你们不要像那些傲慢的傻瓜一样去滥用这崭新的遗产，那些人的自傲因自己的成功和富有而膨胀了。相反的，你们应该去追随你们高贵的童贞女王的例子。当她听到自己将蒙最高的荣耀成为上帝之子的母亲时，却变得更为谦逊，将自己奉献为神的仆人。我的淑女们，一个人越是有道德，他就会越驯顺而温和，因此这个城市应该会让你们举止更有品行，并让你们变得更有价值和宽容。

“你们当中已婚的人，不要因丈夫的欺凌而绝望，因为自由未必是世上最好的事情。上帝的天使对以斯拉所说的话就可以证明这一点：‘那些滥用自由意志的人必会犯罪，背叛神而堕落；他们因此被毁灭了。’如果妻子们温柔、善良、明智，又爱她们的丈夫，则应该感谢神。这绝不是一件小事，而是女性在世上可以获得的最大恩惠之一。这样的妻子应该专心服侍丈夫，用忠贞的心来敬爱和珍视他们，履行自己的职责跟他们平和度日，向神祈祷保守他们的安全和安宁。那些丈夫不算好也不太坏的妻子们，也应该感谢神没有让她们过得更差。她们应当尽量去缓和丈夫们的任性行为，与他们一起努力按社会地位求得平静的生活。那些刚愎自用、有罪孽而残酷的丈夫的妻子们，则应该最大限度地容忍他们。她们应该尝试着去打消丈夫们的邪念，尽可能把他们带回到合理而可敬的道路上。即使她们的丈夫罪大恶极到了任何努力都徒劳无功的程度，这些妇女的灵魂也至少可以从对此的忍耐中获益。更何况，所有人都会赞赏她们并站在她们一边。

“因此，我的淑女们，谦逊和忍耐会把神的恩泽在你们身上放大。你们会被荣光笼罩，并被赐予天上的国度。圣格列高利一世曾说过，忍耐是通向天堂和耶稣基督的关键。你们都应该痛下决心，从今以后摆脱愚蠢而不理性的想法、琐碎的嫉妒、顽固、轻蔑的谈话或是丢脸的行为，所有这些都会扭曲人的思想，让人变得不可靠。此外，这些做法对于一个女性来说也是非常不健康和不得体的。

“你们当中未婚的年轻处女们，请保持纯洁、谦逊、温顺和坚贞，因为那些邪恶的人已经张网在捕捉你们了。保持你们的视线向下，少说话，并且小心谨慎地做所有事。用坚贞和美德武装你们自己，以便对抗引诱者的花招儿并拒绝与他们为伍。

“你们当中寡居的淑女们，请端正自己的衣着、谈吐和所作所为。谨言慎行，处理自己的事物时要照顾周全，在苦难面前要有耐心、要坚强和有韧劲，因为你非常需要这些品质。性格和言谈举止要谦逊，行动要宽厚仁慈。

“简而言之，所有的女性，无论属于社会的哪个阶层，都应该特别警觉，面对伺机攻击你的名誉和美德的人要保护自己。我的淑女们，看一看那些男人们是怎样从各个方面来指责你们的吧，他们用尽了所能想出的一切恶习来全面控诉你们。给他们看看你们多么有原则，来证明他们是错误的，并以有道德的行为来反驳他们对你们的所有批判。行为举止端正到可以像赞美诗诗人说的那样，‘恶人会自食其果’。击退那些奸诈的骗子，他们只是在用花招儿和甜言蜜语来骗取你最应保护好的东西：你的贞洁和荣誉的美名。哦，我的淑女们，逃离吧，从他们想要引诱你们的激情中逃离吧！为了上帝，从那里逃离！你不会从中得到好结果的。相反的，你可以确信，它虽然表面上有吸引力，但最后只能给你带来伤害。这结局一直以来从无例外，所以不要心存侥幸。我亲爱的淑女们，请记住这些男人们是如何指控你们是软弱、轻浮和朝三暮四，但同时却在用他们能想到的最迂回、古怪和奇特的招数来陷害你们的，就像捕捉野生动物那样。逃离，从他们那里逃离，我的淑女们！不要与这些在微笑的外表下隐藏着毒牙的人有任何瓜葛，他们会把你毒死的。与此相反，我最可敬的淑女们，希望你们能在追寻美德和规避恶习中获得乐趣，使得我们城市的人口可以继续增加。让你们的心因为做了善事而喜悦。我作为你们的仆人，将我自己托付给你们。我祈求上帝将他的恩典照耀在我身上，并允许我在这地上继续投入地侍奉他。希望他能原谅我的错误，在我死后赐予我无尽的喜乐，也愿他会如此对待你们。阿们。”

《淑女之城》的第三部分暨最终章结束。

注释

［1］　Catherine of Alexandria，又称车轮圣加大肋纳及大殉道者圣加大肋纳，是一位基督教的圣人和殉道者，据称是4世纪早期的著名学者。正教会将其礼敬为“大殉道”，天主教会传统上将其视为十四救难圣人之一。她是中世纪晚期宗教文化中最有影响力的圣人之一，并被视为最重要的童贞殉道。

［2］　Alexandria，亚历山大港，又译亚历山卓。现埃及第二大城市、亚历山大省省会，地中海岸的港口、非洲重要的海港。

［3］　Marcus Aurelius Valerius Maxentius, 278—312，罗马帝国皇帝，公元306年至312年在位。312年，君士坦丁一世率军进入意大利与马克森提乌斯展开决战，在米尔维安大桥战役中，马克森提乌斯大败，本人则在撤退中溺水而死。

［4］　拉丁文，意为：神之城，汝之荣耀正被传颂。

淑女之城
（英文版）

Christine de Pizan

The City of Ladies

TRANSLATED BY ROSALIND BROWN-GRANT

PENGUIN BOOKS—GREAT IDEAS

淑女之城（英文版）
Contents
Part Ⅰ
Part Ⅱ
Part Ⅲ
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Part Ⅰ

1. Here begins the Book of the City of Ladies, the first chapter of which explains why and for what purpose the book was written

One day, I was sitting in my study surrounded by many books of different kinds, for it has long been my habit to engage in the pursuit of knowledge. My mind had grown weary as I had spent the day struggling with the weighty tomes of various authors whom I had been studying for some time. I looked up from my book and decided that, for once, I would put aside these difficult texts and find instead something amusing and easy to read from the works of the poets. As I searched around for some little book, I happened to chance upon a work which did not belong to me but was amongst a pile of others that had been placed in my safe-keeping. I opened it up and saw from the title that it was by Matheolus. With a smile, I made my choice. Although I had never read it, I knew that, unlike many other works, this one was said to be written in praise of women. Yet I had scarcely begun to read it when my dear mother called me down to supper, for it was time to eat. I put the book to one side, resolving to go back to it the following day.

The next morning, seated once more in my study as is my usual custom, I remembered my previous desire to have a look at this book by Matheolus. I picked it up again and read on a little. But, seeing the kind of immoral language and ideas it contained, the content seemed to me likely to appeal only to those who enjoy reading works of slander and to be of no use whatsoever to anyone who wished to pursue virtue or to improve their moral standards. I therefore leafed through it, read the ending, and decided to switch to some more worthy and profitable work. Yet, having looked at this book, which I considered to be of no authority, an extraordinary thought became planted in my mind which made me wonder why on earth it was that so many men, both derks and others, have said and continue to say and write such awful, damning things about women and their ways. I was at a loss as to how to explain it. It is not just a handful of writers who do this, nor only this Matheolus whose book is neither regarded as authoritative nor intended to be taken seriously. It is all manner of philosophers, poets and orators too numerous to mention, who all seem to speak with one voice and are unanimous in their view that female nature is wholly given up to vice.

As I mulled these ideas over in my mind again and again, I began to examine myself and my own behaviour as an example of womankind. In order to judge in all fairness and without prejudice whether what so many famous men have said about us is true, I also thought about other women I know, the many princesses and countless ladies of all different social ranks who have shared their private and personal thoughts with me. No matter which way I looked at it and no matter how much I turned the question over in my mind, I could find no evidence from my own experience to bear out such a negative view of female nature and habits. Even so, given that I could scarcely find a moral work by any author which didn't devote some chapter or paragraph to attacking the female sex, I had to accept their unfavourable opinion of women since it was unlikely that so many learned men, who seemed to be endowed with such great intelligence and insight into all things, could possibly have lied on so many different occasions. It was on the basis of this one simple argument that I was forced to conclude that, although my understanding was too crude and ill-informed to recognize the great flaws in myself and other women, these men had to be in the right. Thus I preferred to give more weight to what others said than to trust my own judgement and experience.

I dwelt on these thoughts at such length that it was as If I had sunk into a deep trance. My mind became flooded with an endless stream of names as I recalled all the authors who had written on this subject. I came to the conclusion that God had surely created a vile thing when He created woman. Indeed, I was astounded that such a fine craftsman could have wished to make such an appalling object which, as these writers would have it, is like a vessel in which all the sin and evil of the world has been collected and preserved. This thought inspired such a great sense of disgust and sadness in me that I began to despise myself and the whole of my sex as an aberration in nature.

With a deep sigh, I called out to God: 'Oh Lord, how can this be? Unless I commit an error of faith, I cannot doubt that you, in your infinite wisdom and perfect goodness, could make anything that wasn't good. Didn't you yourself create woman especially and then endow her with all the qualities that you wished her to have? How could you possibly have made a mistake in anything? Yet here stand women not simply accused, but already judged, sentenced and condemned! I just cannot understand this contradiction. If it is true, dear Lord God, that women are guilty of such horrors as so many men seem to say, and as you yourself have said that the testimony of two or more witnesses is conclusive, how can I doubt their word? Oh God; why wasn't I born a male so that my every desire would be to serve you, to do right in all things, and to be as perfect a creature as man claims to be? Since you chose not to show such grace to me, please pardon and forgive me, dear Lord, if I fail to serve you as well as I should, for the servant who receives fewer rewards from his lord is less obligated to him in his service.'

Sick at heart, in my lament to God I uttered these and many other foolish words since I thought myself very unfortunate that He had given me a female form.

2. Christine tells how three ladies appeared to her, and how the first of them spoke to her and comforted her in her distress

Sunk in these unhappy thoughts, my head bowed as if in shame and my eyes full of tears, I sat slumped against the arm of my chair with my cheek resting on my hand. All of a sudden, I saw a beam of light, like the rays of the sun, shine down into my lap. Since it was too dark at that time of day for the sun to come into my study, I woke with a start as if from a deep sleep. I looked up to see where the light had come from and all at once saw before me three ladies, crowned and of majestic appearance, whose faces shone with a brightness that lit up me and everything else in the place. As you can imagine, I was full of amazement that they had managed to enter a room whose doors and windows were all closed. Terrified at the thought that it might be some kind of apparition come to tempt me, I quickly made the sign of the cross on my forehead.

With a smile on her face, the lady who stood at the front of the three addressed me first: 'My dear daughter, don't be afraid, for we have not come to do you any harm, but rather, out of pity on your distress, we are here to comfort you. Our aim is to help you get rid of those misconceptions which have clouded your mind and made you reject what you know and believe in fact to be the truth just because so many other people have come out with the opposite opinion. You're acting like that fool in the joke who falls asleep in the mill and whose friends play a trick on him by dressing him up in women's clothing. When he wakes up, they manage to convince him that he is a woman despite all evidence to the contrary! My dear gift, what has happened to your sense? Have you forgotten that it is in the furnace that gold is refined, increasing in value the more it is beaten and fashioned into different shapes? Don't you know that it's the very finest things which are the subject of the most intense discussion? Now, if you turn your mind to the very highest realm of all, the realm of abstract ideas, think for a moment whether or not those philosophers whose views against women you've been citing have ever been proven wrong. In fact, they are all constantly correcting each other's opinions, as you yourself should know from reading Aristotle's Metaphysics where he discusses and refutes both their views and those of Plato and other philosophers. Don't forget the Doctors of the Church either, and Saint Augustine in particular, who all took issue with Aristotle himself on certain matters, even though he is considered to be the greatest of all authorities on both moral and natural philosophy. You seem to have accepted the philosophers' views as articles of faith and thus as irrefutable on every point.

'As for the poets you mention, you must realize that they sometimes wrote in the manner of fables which you have to take as saying the opposite of what they appear to say. You should therefore read such texts according to the grammatical rule of antiphrasis, which consists of interpreting something that is negative in a positive light, or vice versa. My advice to you is to read those passages where they criticize women in this way and to turn them to your advantage, no matter what the author's original intention was. It could be that Matheolus is also meant to be read like this because there are some passages in his book which, if taken literally, are just out-and-out heresy. As for what these authors - not just Matheolus but also the more authoritative writer of the Romance of the Rose - say about the God-given, holy state of matrimony, experience should tell you that they are completely wrong when they say that marriage is insufferable thanks to women. What husband ever gave his wife the power over him to utter the kind of insults and obscenities which these authors claim that women do? Believe me, despite what you've read in books, you've never actually seen such a thing because it's all a pack of outrageous lies. My dear friend, I have to say that it is your naivety which has led you to take what they come out with as the truth. Return to your senses and stop worrying your head about such foolishness. Let me tell you that those who speak ill of women do more harm to themselves than they do to the women they actually slander.'

[...]

8. Christine explains how Reason instructed her and helped her to begin digging up the ground in order to lay the foundations

Lady Reason replied to my words, saying: 'Stand up now, daughter, and without further delay let us make our way to the Field of Letters. There we will build the City of Ladies on flat, fertile ground, where fruits of all kinds flourish and fresh streams flow, a place where every good thing grows in abundance. Take the spade of your intelligence and dig deep to make a great trench all around where you see the line I have traced I'll help to carry away the hods of earth on my shoulders.'

Obeying her instructions, I jumped to my feet: thanks to the three ladies, my body felt much stronger and lighter than before. She took the lead and I followed on behind. When we came to the spot she had described, I began to excavate and dig out the earth with the spade of my intelligence, just as she had directed me to do. The first fruit of my labours was this: 'My lady, I'm remembering that image of gold being refined in the furnace that you used before to symbolize the way many male writers have launched a full-scale attack on the ways of women. I take this image to mean that the more women are criticized, the more it redounds to their glory. But please tell me exactly what it is that makes so many different authors slander women in their writings because, if I understand you correctly, they are wrong to do so. Is it Nature that makes them do this? Or, if it is out of hatred, how can you explain it?'

Reason answered my questions, saying: 'My dear daughter, in order to help you see more clearly how things stand, let me carry away this first load of earth. I can tell you that, far from making them slander women, Nature does the complete opposite. There is no stronger or closer bond in the world than that which Nature, in accordance with God's wishes, creates between man and woman. Rather, there are many other different reasons which explain why men have attacked women in the past and continue to do so, including those authors whose works you have already mentioned. Some of those who criticized women did so with good intentions: they wanted to rescue men who had already fallen into the clutches of depraved and corrupt women or to prevent others from suffering the same fate, and to encourage men generally to avoid leading a lustful and sinful existence. They therefore attacked all women in order to persuade men to regard the entire sex as an abomination.'

'My lady,' I said, 'forgive me for interrupting you. Were they right to do so, since they were acting with good intentions? Isn't it true that one's actions are judged by one's intentions?'

'You're wrong, my dear girl,' she replied, 'because there is no excuse for plain ignorance. If I killed you with good intentions and out of stupidity, would I be in the right? Those who have acted in this way, whoever they may be, have abused their power. Attacking one party in the belief that you are benefiting a third party is unfair. So is criticizing the nature of all women, which is completely unjustified, as I will prove to you by analogy. Condemning all women in order to help some misguided men get over their foolish behaviour is tantamount to denouncing fire, which is a vital and beneficial element, just because some people are burnt by it, or to cursing water just because some people are drowned in it. You could apply the same reasoning to all manner of things which can be put to either good or bad use. In none of these cases should you blame the thing in itself if foolish people use it unwisely. You yourself have made these points elsewhere in your writings. Those who subscribe to these opinions, whether in good or bad faith, have overstepped the mark in order to make their point. It's like somebody cutting up the whole piece of cloth in order to make himself a huge coat simply because it's not going to cost him anything and no one is going to object. It thus stops anyone else from using the material. If instead, as you yourself have rightly remarked, these writers had tried to find ways to save men from indulging in vice and from frequenting debauched women by attacking only the morals and the habits of those who were evidently guilty of such behaviour, I freely admit that they would have produced texts which were extremely useful. It's true that there's nothing worse than a woman who is dissolute and depraved: she's like a monster, a creature going against its own nature, which is to be timid, meek and pure. I can assure you that those writers who condemn the entire female sex for being sinful, when in fact there are so many women who are extremely virtuous, are not acting with my approval. They've committed a grave error, as do all those who subscribe to their views. So let us throw out these horrible, ugly, misshapen stones from your work as they have no place in your beautiful city.

'Other men have criticized women for different reasons: some because they are themselves steeped in sin, some because of a bodily impediment, some out of sheer envy, and some quite simply because they naturally take delight in slandering others. There are also some who do so because they like to flaunt their erudition: they have come across these views in books and so like to quote the authors whom they have read.

'Those who criticize the female sex because they are inherently sinful are men who have wasted their youth on dissolute behaviour and who have had affairs with many different women. These men have therefore acquired cunning through their many experiences and have grown old without repenting of their sins. Indeed, they look back with nostalgia on the appalling way they used to carry on when they were younger. Now that old age has finally caught up with them and the spirit is still willing but the flesh has grown weak, they are full of regret when they see that, for them, the "good old days" are over and they can merely watch as younger men take over from where they have had to leave off. The only way they can release their frustration is to attack women and to try to stop others from enjoying the pleasures that they themselves used to take. You very often see old men such as these going around saying vile and disgusting things, as in the case of your Matheolus, who freely admits that he is just an impotent old man who would still like to satisfy his desires. He's an excellent example to illustrate my point as he's typical of many other similar cases.

'Yet, thank goodness, not all old men are full of depravity and rotten to the core like a leper. There are many other fine, decent ones whose wisdom and virtue have been nourished by me and whose words reflect their good character, since they speak in an honourable and sober fashion. Such men detest all kinds of wrong-doing and slander. Thus, rather than attacking and defaming individual sinners, male or female, they condemn all sins in general. Their advice to others is to avoid vice, pursue virtue and stick to the straight and narrow.

'Those men who have attacked women because of their own bodily impediments, such as impotence or a deformed limb, are all bitter and twisted in the mind. The only pleasure they have to compensate for their incapacity is to slander the female sex since it is women who bring such joy to other men. That way they are convinced that they can put others off enjoying what they themselves have never had.

'Those men who have slandered the opposite sex out of envy have usually known women who were cleverer and more virtuous than they are. Out of bitterness and spite, envious men such as these are driven to attack all women, thinking that they can thereby undermine these individuals' good reputation and excellent character, as in the case of the author of On Philosophy whose name I've forgotten. In this book, he goes to great lengths to argue that men should on no account praise women and that those who do so are betraying the title of his book: their doctrine is no longer "philosophy" but "philofolly". However, I can assure you that it is definitely he who is the arch-exponent of "philofolly" because of all the false reasoning and erroneous conclusions he comes out with in his book.

'As for those men who are slanderous by nature, it's not surprising if they criticize women, given that they attack everyone indiscriminately. You can take it from me that any man who wilfully slanders the female sex does so because he has an evil mind, since he's going against both reason and nature. Against reason, because he is lacking in gratitude and failing to acknowledge all the good and indispensable things that woman has done for him both in the past and still today, much more than he can ever repay her for. Against nature, in that even the birds and the beasts naturally love their mate, the female of the species. So man acts in a most unnatural way when he, a rational being, fails to love woman.

'Finally, there are those who dabble in literature and delight in mimicking even the very finest works written by authors who are greatly superior to them. They think themselves to be beyond reproach since they are merely repeating what others have already said. Believe me, this is how they set about making their defamatory remarks. Some of them scribble down any old nonsense, verse without rhyme or reason, in which they discuss the ways of women, or princes, or whoever it might be, when it is they themselves, whose habits leave much to be desired, who are most in need of moral self-improvement. Yet the common folk, who are as ignorant as they are, think that it's the best thing they've ever read.'

9. How Christine dug over the earth: in other words, the questions which she put to Reason and the answers she received from her

'Now that I have prepared and set out this great task for you, you should carry on the task of digging up the ground, following the line which I have laid down.'

In obedience to Reason's wishes, I set to with all my might, saying, 'My lady, why is it that Ovid, who is considered to be the greatest of poets (though others, myself included, think that Virgil is more worthy of that accolade, if you don't mind my saying so), made so many derogatory remarks about women in his writings, such as the Art of Love, the Remedies of Love and other works?'

Reason replied: 'Ovid was a man very well versed in the theory and practice of writing poetry and his fine mind allowed him to excel in everything he wrote. However, his body was given over to all kinds of worldliness and vices of the flesh: he had affairs with many women, since he had no sense of moderation and showed no loyalty to any particular one. Throughout his youth, he behaved like this only to end up with the reward he richly deserved: he lost not just his good name and his possessions, but even some parts of his body! Because he was so licentious, both in the way he carried on and in the encouragement he gave to others to do the same, he was finally sent into exile. Even when he was brought back from banishment by some of his followers, who were influential young men of Rome, he couldn't help himself from falling into exactly the same pattern as before. So finally he was castrated and deprived of his organs because of his immorality. He's another good example of what I was telling you about just now: once he realized that he could no longer indulge in the same kind of pleasures as before, he began to attack women with his sly remarks in an attempt to make others despise them too.'

'My lady, your words certainly ring true. However, I've seen another book by an Italian writer called Cecco d'Ascoli who, if I remember correctly, comes from the Marches or Tuscany. In this work, he says some extraordinarily unpleasant things which are worse than anything else I've ever read and which shouldn't be repeated by anybody with any sense.'

Reason's response was: 'My dear girl, don't be surprised if Cecco d'Ascoli slandered the whole of womankind since he hated and despised them all. Being unspeakably wicked, he tried to make all other men share his nasty opinion about women. He too got what he deserved: thanks to his heretical views, he suffered a shameful death at the stake.'

'My lady, I've also come across another little book in Latin, called On the Secrets of Women, which states that the female body is inherently flawed and defective in many of its functions.'

Reason replied, 'You shouldn't need any other evidence than that of your own body to realize that this book is a complete fabrication and stuffed with lies. Though some may attribute the book to Aristotle, it is unthinkable that a philosopher as great as he would have produced such outrageous nonsense. Any woman who reads it can see that, since certain things it says are the complete opposite of her own experience, she can safely assume that the rest of the book is equally unreliable. Incidentally, do you remember the part at the beginning where he claims that one of the popes excommunicated any man found either reading the book out loud to a woman or giving it to her to read for herself?'

'Yes, my lady, I do remember that passage.'

'Do you know what evil motive drove him to put such vile words at the front of his book for gullible, foolish men to read?'

'No, my lady, you'll have to tell me.'

'It was because he did'nt want women to get hold of his book and read it or have someone else read it to them for fear that if they did, they would pour scorn on it and would recognize it for the utter rubbish that it is. By this ruse, he thought he could trick the men who wanted to read his text.'

'My lady, amongst the other things he said, I seem to remember that, after going on at great length about female children being the result of some weakness or deficiency in the mother's womb, he claimed that Nature herself is ashamed when she sees that she has created such an imperfect being.'

'Well, my dear Christine, surely it's obvious that those who come out with this opinion are totally misguided and irrational? How can Nature, who is God's handmaiden, be more powerful than her own master from whom she derives her authority in the first place? It is God almighty who, at the very core of His being, nurtured the idea of creating man and woman. When He put His divine wish into action and made Adam from the clay of the fields of Damascus, He took him to dwell in the earthly paradise, which has always been the noblest place on this lowly earth. There He put Adam to sleep and created the body of woman from one of his ribs. This was a sign that she was meant to be his companion standing at his side, whom he would love as if they were one flesh, and not his servant lying at his feet. If the Divine Craftsman Himself wasn't ashamed to create the female form, why should Nature be? It really is the height of stupidity to claim otherwise. Moreover, how was she created? I'm not sure if you realize this, but it was in God's image. How can anybody dare to speak ill of something which bears such a noble imprint? There are, however, some who are foolish enough to maintain that when God made man in His image, this means His physical body. Yet this is not the case, for at that time God had not yet adopted a human form, so it has to be understood to mean the soul, which is immaterial intellect and which will resemble God until the end of time. He endowed both male and female with this soul, which He made equally noble and virtuous in the two sexes. Whilst we're still on the subject of how the human body was formed, woman was created by the very finest of craftsmen. And where exactly was she made? Why, in the earthly paradise. What from? Was it from coarse matter? No, it was from the finest material that had yet been invented by God: from the body of man himself.'

'My lady, from what you've told me, I can see that woman is a very noble creature. Yet, all the same, wasn't it Cicero who said that man should not be subject to woman and that he who did so abased himself because it is wrong to be subject to one who is your inferior?'

Reason answered, 'It is he or she who is the more virtuous who is the superior being: human superiority or inferiority is not determined by sexual difference but by the degree to which one has perfected one's nature and morals. Thus, happy is he who serves the Virgin Mary, for she is exalted even above the angels.'

'My lady, it was one of the Catos, the one who was a great orator, who declared that if woman hadn't been created, man would converse with the gods.'

Reason's reply was: 'Now you see an example of someone who was supposed to be very wise coming out with something very foolish. It is because of woman that man sits side by side with God. As for those who state that it is thanks to a woman, the lady Eve, that man was expelled from paradise, my answer to them would be that man has gained far more through Mary than he ever lost through Eve. Humankind has now become one with God, which never would have happened if Eve hadn't sinned. Both men and women should praise this fault of Eve's since it is because of her that such an honour has been bestowed on them. If human nature is fallen, due to the actions of one of God's creatures, it has been redeemed by the Creator Himself. As for conversing with the gods if womankind hadn't been invented, as this Cato claims; his words were truer than he knew. Being a pagan, he and those of his faith believed that both heaven and hell were ruled by the gods. But the ones in hell are what we call devils, So it's definitely true to say that men would be conversing with the gods of hell if Mary had not come into the world!'

[...]

11. Christine asks Reason why women aren't allowed in courts of law, and Reason's reply

'Most honourable and worthy lady, your excellent arguments have satisfied my curiosity in so many areas. Yet, if you don't mind, I'd like you to explain to me why women are allowed neither to present a case at a trial, nor bear witness, nor pass sentence since some men have claimed that it's all because of some woman or other who behaved badly in a court of law.'

'My dear daughter, that whole ridiculous story is a malicious fabrication. However, if you wanted to know the causes and reasons behind everything, you would never get to the end of it. Even Aristotle, though he explained many things in his Problemata and Categories, was not equal to the task. But, dear Christine, to come back to your question, you might as well ask why God didn't command men to perform women's tasks and women those of men. In answer, one could say that just as a wise and prudent lord organizes his household into different domains and operates a strict division of labour amongst his workforce, so God created man and woman to serve Him in different ways and to help and comfort one another, according to a similar division of labour. To this end, He endowed each sex with the qualities and attributes which they need to perform the tasks for which they are cut out, even though sometimes humankind fails to respect these distinctions. God gave men strong, powerful bodies to stride about and to speak boldly, which explains why it is men who learn the law and maintain the rule of justice. In those instances where someone refuses to uphold the law which has been established by fight, men must enforce it through the use of arms and physical strength, which women dearly could not do. Even though God has often endowed many women with great intelligence, it would not be right for them to abandon their customary modesty and to go about bringing cases before a court, as there are already enough men to do so. Why send three men to carry a burden which two can manage quite comfortably?

'However, if there are those who maintain that women aren't intelligent enough to learn the law, I would contradict them by citing numerous examples of women of both the past and the present who were great philosophers and who excelled in many disciplines which are much more difficult than simply learning the laws and the statutes of men. I'll tell you more about these women in a moment. Moreover, in reply to those who think that women are lacking in the ability to govern wisely or to establish good customs, I'll give you examples from history of several worthy ladies who mastered these arts. To give you a better idea of what I'm saying, I'll even cite you a few women from your own time who were widowed and whose competence in organizing and managing their households after their husbands' deaths attests to the fact that an intelligent woman can succeed in any domain.'

12. About the Empress Nicaula

'Tell me, if you can, whether you have ever read about a king who was more skilled in politics, statesmanship and justice and who maintained a more magnificent court than the great Empress Nicaula? The many different vast and extensive lands which she held under her dominion were ruled by the famous kings known as pharaohs, from whom she herself was descended. However, it was this lady who first established laws and good customs in her realm, thus putting end once and for all to the primitive ways of the people in the countries under her control, even to the savage habits of the bestial Ethiopians. Those authors who have written about Nicaula praise her in particular for the way in which she brought civilization to her subjects. She was the heir of the pharaohs, inheriting a huge territory which included the kingdoms of Arabia, Ethiopia, Egypt and the island of Meroë, a long, broad stretch of land, which was extremely fertile, located in the middle of the Nile. She governed all of her territory with exemplary skill. What more can I tell you about this lady? Nicaula was so wise and so powerful that even the Holy Scriptures speak of her great abilities. She herself established just laws by which to rule her people. In nobility and wealth, she surpassed almost any man who ever lived. She was extremely well versed in both the arts and the sciences and was so proud that she never condescended to take a husband nor wanted any man to be at her side.'

[...]

14. More discussion and debate between Christine and Reason

'My lady, you have truly spoken well, and your words are like music to my ears. Yet, despite what we've said about intelligence, it's undeniable that women are by nature fearful creatures, having weak, frail bodies and lacking in physical strength. Men have therefore argued that it is these things that make the female sex inferior and of lesser value. To their minds, if a person's body is defective in some way, this undermines and diminishes that person's moral qualities and thus it follows that he or she is less worthy of praise.'

Reason's reply was, 'My dear daughter, this is a false conclusion which is completely untenable. It is definitely the case that when Nature fails to make a body which is as perfect as others she has created, be it in shape or beauty, or in some strength or power of limb, she very often compensates for it by giving that body some greater quality than the one she has taken away. Here's an example: it's often said that the great philosopher Aristotle was very ugly, with one eye lower than the other and a deformed face. Yet, if he was physically misshapen, Nature certainly made up for it by endowing him with extraordinary intellectual powers, as is attested by his own writings. Having this extra intelligence was worth far more to him than having a body as beautiful as that of Absalom.

'The same can be said of the emperor Alexander the Great, who was extremely short, ugly and sickly, and yet, as is well known, he had tremendous courage in his soul. This is also true of many others. Believe me, my dear friend, it doesn't necessarily follow that a fine, strong body makes for a brave and courageous heart. Courage comes from a natural, vital force which is a gift from God that He allows Nature to implant in some rational beings more than in others. This force resides in the mind and the heart, not in the bodily strength of one's limbs. You very often see men who are well built and strong yet pathetic and cowardly, but others who are small and physically weak yet brave and tough. This applies equally to other moral qualities. As far as bravery and physical strength are concerned, neither God nor Nature has done the female sex a disservice by depriving it of these attributes. Rather, women are lucky to be deficient in this respect because they are at least spared from committing and being punished for the acts of appalling cruelty, the murders and terrible violent deeds which men who are equipped with the necessary strength have performed in the past and still do today. It probably would have been better for such men if their souls had spent their pilgrimage through this mortal life inside the weak body of a woman. To return to what I was saying, I am convinced that if Nature decided not to endow women with a powerful physique, she none the less made up for it by giving them a most virtuous disposition: that of loving God and being fearful of disobeying His commandments. Women who don't act like this are going against their own nature.

'However, dear Christine, you should note that God clearly wished to prove to men that, just because all women are not as physically strong and courageous as men generally are, this does not mean that the entire female sex is lacking in such qualities. There are in fact several women who have displayed the necessary courage, strength and bravery to undertake and accomplish extraordinary deeds which match those achieved by the great conquerors and knights mentioned in books. I'll shortly give you an example of such a woman.

'My dear daughter and beloved friend, I've now prepared a trench for you which is good and wide, and have emptied it of earth which I have carried away in great loads on my shoulders. It's now time for you to place inside the trench some heavy, solid stones which will form the foundations of the walls for the City of Ladies. So take the trowel of your pen and get ready to set to with vigour on the building work. Here is a good, strong stone which I want you to lay as the first of your city's foundations. Don't you know that Nature herself used astrological signs to predict that it should be placed here in this work? Step back a little now and let me put it into position for you.'

[...]

16. About the Amazons

'There is a country near the land of Europe which lies on the Ocean, that great sea that covers the whole world. This place is called Scythia, or the land of the Scythians. It once happened that, in the course of a war, all the noblest male inhabitants of this country were killed. When their womenfolk saw that they had lost all their husbands, brothers and male relatives, and that only very young boys and old men were left, they took courage and called together a great council of women, resolving that, henceforth, they would lead the country themselves, free from male control. They issued an edict which forbade any man from entering their territory, but decided that, in order to ensure the survival of their race, they would go into neighbouring countries at certain times of the year and return thereafter to their own land. If they gave birth to male children, they would send them away to be with their fathers, but the female children they would bring up themselves. In order to uphold this law, they chose two of the highest-born ladies to be queens, one of whom was called Lampheto and the other Marpasia. No sooner was this done than they expelled all the men who were left in the country. Next, they took up arms, women and gifts together, and waged war on their enemies, laying waste to their lands with fire and sword and crushing all opposition until none remained. In short, they wreaked full revenge for their husbands' deaths.

'This is how the women of Scythia began to bear arms. They were later known as the Amazons, a name which means "they who have had a breast removed". It was their custom that, by a technique known only to this race of women, the most noble of them would have the left breast burnt off at a very early age in order to free them up to carry a shield. Those young gifts who were of non-noble birth would lose the right breast so that they could more easily handle a bow. They took such pleasure in the pursuit of arms that they greatly expanded their territory by the use of force, thus spreading their fame far and wide. To get back to what I was saying, the two queens Lampheto and Marpasia each led a great army into various countries and were so successful that they conquered a large part of Europe and the region of Asia, subjugating many kingdoms to their rule. They founded many towns and cities including the Asian city of Ephesus, which has long been justly renowned. Of these two queens, it was Marpasia who died first in battle and who was replaced by a young daughter of hers, a beautiful and noble maiden called Synoppe. This girl was so proud that she chose never to sleep with a man, preferring instead to remain a virgin until her death. Her only love and sole pleasure in life was the pursuit of arms: she never tired of going into battle and seizing new lands. She also avenged her mother's death fully by putting to the sword the entire enemy population and laying waste to their whole country, adding it to the others which she went on to conquer.'

[...]

27. Christine asks Reason if God has ever blessed a woman's mind with knowledge of the highest branches of learning, and Reason's reply

Having listened to what Reason said, I answered, 'My lady, God truly performed wonders by endowing these women you've just been telling me about with such extraordinary powers. But, if you don't mind, please tell me if, amongst all the other favours He has shown to women, God ever chose to honour any of them with great intelligence and knowledge. Do they indeed have an aptitude for learning? I'd really like to know why it is that men claim women to be so slow-witted.'

Reason's reply was: 'Christine, from what I've already told you, it should be obvious that the opposite of what they say is true. To make the point more clearly for you, I'll give you some conclusive examples. I repeat - and don't doubt my word - that if it were the custom to send little girls to school and to teach them all sorts of different subjects there, as one does with little boys, they would grasp and learn the difficulties of all the arts and sciences just as easily as the boys do. Indeed, this is often the case because, as I mentioned to you before, although women may have weaker and less agile bodies than men, which prevents them from doing certain tasks, their minds are in fact sharper and more receptive when they do apply themselves.'

'My lady, what are you saying? If you please, I'd be grateful if you would expand on this point. No man would ever accept this argument flit couldn't be proved, because they would say that men generally know so much more than women.'

She replied, 'Do you know why it is that women know less than men?'

'No, my lady, you'll have to enlighten me.'

'It's because they are less exposed to a wide variety of experiences since they have to stay at home all day to look after the household. There's nothing like a whole range of different experiences and activities for expanding the mind of any rational creature.'

'So, my lady, if they have able minds which can learn and absorb as much as those of men, why don't they therefore know more?'

'The answer, my dear girl, is that it's not necessary for the public good for women to go around doing what men are supposed to do, as I informed you earlier. It's quite adequate that they perform the tasks for which they are fitted. As for this idea that experience tells us that women's intelligence is inferior to that of men simply because we see that those around us generally know less than men do, let's take the example of male peasants living in remote countryside or high mountains. You could give me plenty of names of places where the men are so backward that they seem no better than beasts. Yet, there's no doubt that Nature made them as perfect in mind and body as the cleverest and most learned men to be found in towns and cities. All this comes down to their lack of education, though don't forget what I said before about some men and women being more naturally endowed with intelligence than others. I'll now go on to prove to you that the female sex is just as clever as the male sex, by giving you some examples of women who had fine minds and were extremely erudite.'

28. Reason begins to speak about ladies who were blessed with great learning, starting with the noble maiden Cornificia

'The parents of the noble maiden Cornificia used a clever trick to send her to school along with her brother Cornificius when they were both young children. This little girl applied her extraordinary intelligence so well to her studies that she began to take a real delight in learning. It would have been extremely difficult to stifle this talent in her, for she refused all normal female occupations in order to devote herself to her books. After much dedication, she soon became an excellent and learned poet not solely in the field of poetry itself but also in philosophy, which she just drank in as if it were mother's milk. She was so motivated to excel in all the different disciplines that she soon outshone her brother himself no mean poet, in all branches of scholarship.

'Moreover, she was not content simply to study the theoretical side of learning but wished to put her own knowledge into practice. Taking up her pen, she composed several distinguished works which, at the time of Saint Gregory, were held in great esteem, as he himself indicates in his writings. The great Italian author Boccaccio says of Cornificia in his book: "What a great honour it is for a woman to put aside all feminine things and to devote her mind to studying the works of the greatest scholars." He confirms what I've been telling you when he goes on to say that those women who have no confidence in their own intellectual abilities act as if they were born in the backwoods and had no concept of what is right and moral, letting themselves be discouraged and saying that they're fit for nothing but fussing over men and bearing and bringing up children. God has given every woman a good brain which she could put to good use, if she so chose, in all the domains in which the most learned and renowned men excel. If women wished to study, they are no more excluded from doing so than men are; and could easily put in the necessary effort to acquire a good name for themselves just as the most distinguished of men delight in doing. My dear daughter, see how Boccaccio himself echoes what I've been saying and note how much he approves of learning in a woman and praises them for it.'

[...]

30. About Sappho, who was an extremely fine poet and philosopher

'No less learned than Proba was Sappho, a maiden from the city of Mytilene. This Sappho was physically very beautiful, and also charming in her speech, manner and bearing. However, the finest of her attributes was her superb intellect, for she was a great expert in many different arts and sciences. Moreover, she was not only familiar with the writings and treatises of others but was herself an author who composed many new works. The poet Boccaccio pays tribute to her, describing her in these delightful terms: "Sappho, spurred on by her fine mind and burning desire, devoted herself to her studies and rose above the common, ignorant herd, making her home on the heights of Mount Parnassus; in other words, at the summit of knowledge itself. Through her extraordinary boldness and daring, she won the good will of the Muses; that is, she immersed herself in the arts and sciences. She thus made her way through the lush forest full of laurels, may trees, delicious-scented flowers of different hues and sweet-smelling herbs which is the place where Grammar, Logic, Geometry, Arithmetic, and noble Rhetoric dwell. She travelled down this path until she eventually came to the deep cave of Apollo, god of knowledge, where she found the bubbling waters of the spring of Castalia. There she took up a plectrum and played lovely tunes on the harp with the nymphs leading the dance; that is to say, she learnt the art of musical chords as well as the rules of harmonics."

'This description of Sappho by Boccaccio should be understood to refer to the depth of her learning and to the great erudition of her works which, as the Ancients themselves pointed out, are so complex that even the most intelligent and educated men have difficulty in grasping their meaning. Her books, which are exquisitely written and still popular today, offer an excellent model for those of later generations who want to perfect the art of writing verse. She invented many new forms of song and poetry, including lays, sorrowful complaints, strange love laments and other poems inspired by different emotions which are beautifully wrought and are now called Sapphic poems in her honour. On the subject of this lady's works, Horace recalls that a book of her verse was found under the pillow of the great philosopher Plato, Aristotle's teacher, when he died.

'To cut a long story short, Sappho was so famous for her learning that her native city decided to dedicate a prominent bronze statue to her in order to honour her and record her achievements for posterity. She earned herself a place amongst the greatest poets whose glory, according to Boccaccio, far outshines the mitres of bishops, the coronets and crowns of kings and even the palm wreaths and laurel garlands of those who are victorious in battle. I could give you many more examples of brilliant women, such as the Greek woman Leontium, an excellent philosopher, who dared to put forward clearly reasoned arguments against Theophrastus, a thinker who was highly regarded in his own time.'

[...]

33. Christine asks Reason if any woman has ever invented new forms of knowledge

I, Christine, on hearing Reason's words, took up this matter and said to her, 'My lady, I can clearly see that you are able to cite an endless number of women who were highly skilled in the arts and sciences. However, I'd like to ask you if you know of any woman who was ingenious, or creative, or clever enough to invent any new useful and important branches of knowledge which did not previously exist. It's surely less difficult to learn and follow a subject which has already been invented than it is to discover something new and unknown by oneself.'

Reason replied, 'Believe me, many crucial and worthy arts and sciences have been discovered thanks to the ingenuity and cleverness of women, both in the theoretical sciences which are expressed through the written word, and in the technical crafts which take the form of manual tasks and trades. I'll now give you a whole set of examples.

'First of all, I'll tell you about the noble Nicostrata, whom the Italians called Carmentis. This lady was the daughter of the king of Arcadia whose name was Pallas. She was extraordinarily intelligent and endowed by God with special intellectual gifts, having such a vast knowledge of Greek literature and being able to write so wisely, elegantly and with such eloquence that the poets of the time claimed in their verse that she was loved by the god Mercury. They similarly thought that her son, who was in his day equally renowned for his intelligence, was the offspring of this god, rather than of her husband. Because of various upheavals that occurred in her native land, Nicostrata, accompanied by her son and a whole host of other people who wanted to go with her, set off for Italy in a large fleet of ships and sailed up the River Tiber. It was here that she went ashore and climbed up a great hill which she named Mount Palatine after her father. On this hill, where the city of Rome was subsequently founded, she, her son and her followers built themselves a castle. As she found the indigenous population to be very primitive, she laid down a set of rules for them to observe and encouraged them to live a rational and just existence. Thus it was she who first established laws in this country that was to become so famous for developing a legal system from which all known laws would be derived.

'Amongst all the other attributes that this lady possessed, Nicostrata was particularly blessed with the gift of divine inspiration and prophecy. She was thus able to predict that her adopted country would one day rise above all others to become the most magnificent and glorious realm on earth. To her mind, therefore, it would not be fitting for this country which would outshine and conquer the rest of the world to use an inferior and crude set of alphabetical letters which had originated in a foreign country. Moreover, Nicostrata wished to transmit her own wisdom and learning to future generations in a suitable form. She therefore set her mind to inventing a new set of letters which were completely different from those used in other nations. What she created was the ABC - the Latin alphabet - as well as the rules for constructing words, the distinction between vowels and consonants and the bases of the science of grammar. She gave this knowledge and this alphabet to the people, in the hope that they would become universally known. It was truly no small or insignificant branch of knowledge that this lady invented, nor should she receive only paltry thanks for it. This ingenious science proved so useful and brought so much good into the world that one can honestly say that no nobler discovery was ever made.

'The Italians were not lacking in gratitude for this great gift, and rightly so, since they heralded it as such a marvellous invention that they venerated her more highly than any man, worshipping Nicostrata/Carmentis like a goddess in her own lifetime. When she died, they built a temple dedicated to her memory, situated at the foot of the hill where she had made her home. In order to preserve her fame for posterity, they borrowed various terms from the science she had invented and even used her own name to designate certain objects. In honour of the science of Latin that she had invented, the people of the country called themselves Latins. Furthermore, because ita in Latin is the most important affirmative term in that language, being the equivalent of oui in French, they did not stop at calling their own realm the land of the Latins, but went so far as to use the name Italy to refer to the whole country beyond their immediate borders, which is a vast area comprising many different regions and kingdoms. From this lady's name, Carmentis, they also derived the Latin word carmen, meaning "song". Even the Romans, who came a long time after her, called one of the gates of the city the Porta Carmentalis. These names have not been changed since and are still the same today, no matter how the fortunes of the Romans have fared or which mighty emperor was in power.

'My dear Christine, what more could you ask for? Could any mortal man be said to have done anything so splendid? But don't think that she's the only example of a woman who invented many new branches of learning...'

34. About Minerva, who invented countless sciences, including the art of making arms from iron and steel

'Minerva, as you yourself have noted elsewhere, was a maiden from Greece who was also known as Pallas. This gift was so supremely intelligent that her contemporaries foolishly declared her to be a goddess come down from the heavens, since they had no idea who her parents were and she performed deeds that had never been done before. As Boccaccio himself points out, the fact that they knew so little about her origins meant that they were all the more astonished at her great wisdom, which surpassed that of every other woman of her time. She employed her skilfulness and her immense ingenuity not just in one domain but in many. First of all, she used her brilliance to invent various Greek letters called characters which can be used to write down a maximum number of ideas in a minimum number of words. This wonderfully clever invention is still used by the Greeks today. She also invented numbers and developed ways of using them to count and perform quick calculations. In short, she was so ingenious that she created many arts and techniques that had not previously been discovered, including the art of making wool and cloth. It was she who first had the idea of shearing sheep and developing the whole process of untangling, combing and carding the wool with various instruments, cleaning it, breaking down the fibres on metal spikes and spinning it on the distaff, whilst also inventing the tools needed for weaving it into cloth and making it into fine fabric.

'Likewise, she discovered how to make oil from pressing olives and how to extract the juice from other sorts of fruit.

'Likewise, she invented the art of building carts and chariots in order to carry things more easily from one place to another.

'Likewise, an invention of this lady's which was all the more marvellous for being such an unlikely thing for a woman to think of, was the art of forging armour for knights to protect themselves in battle and weapons of iron and steel for them to fight with. She taught this art first to the people of Athens, whom she also instructed in how to organize themselves into armies and battalions and to fight in serried ranks.

'Likewise, she invented flutes, pipes, trumpets and other wind instruments.

'This lady was not only extraordinarily intelligent but also supremely chaste, remaining a virgin all her life. It was because of her exemplary chastity that the poets claimed in their fables that she struggled long and hard with Vulcan, the god of fire, but finally overcame and defeated him. This story can be interpreted to mean that she conquered the passions and desires of the flesh which so vigorously assail the body when one is young. The Athenians held this girl in the highest esteem, worshipping her as if she were a deity and calling her the goddess of arms and warfare because she was the first to invent these arts. She was also known as the goddess of wisdom, thanks to her great intelligence.

'After her death, the people of Athens built a temple dedicated to her, in which they placed a statue representing wisdom and warfare in the likeness of a girl. This statue had terrible fierce eyes to symbolize both the duty of a knight to enforce justice and the inscrutability of the thoughts of a wise man. The statue had a helmet on its head, to suggest the idea that a knight must be hardened in battle and have unfailing courage, and that the plans of a wise man should be shrouded in secrecy. It was also dressed in chainmail, to represent the power of the estate of knighthood as well as the foresight of a wise man who arms himself against the vicissitudes of Fortune. The statue held a great spear or lance as an emblem of the fact that a knight must be the rod of justice and that a wise man launches his attacks from a safe distance. Round the statue's neck hung a shield or buckler of crystal, meaning that a knight must always be vigilant and ready to defend the country and the people and that a wise man has a clear understanding of all things. In the centre of this shield was the image of the head of a serpent known as a Gorgon, to suggest the idea that a knight must be cunning and stalk his enemies like a snake whilst a wise man must be wary of all the harm that others might do to him. To guard the statue, they placed next to it a night bird - an owl - to signify that a knight must be prepared, if needs be, to protect the country both day and night, and that a wise man must be alert at all times to do what is right. This lady Minerva was greatly revered for a long time and her fame spread to many other countries, where they also dedicated temples to her. Even centuries later, when the Romans were at the height of their powers, they incorporated her image into their pantheon of gods.'

35. About Queen Ceres, who invented agriculture and many other arts

'Ceres was queen of the Sicilians in very ancient times. Thanks to her great ingenuity, it was she who was responsible for inventing both the science and the techniques of agriculture as well as all the necessary tools. She taught her subjects how to round up and tame their cattle and train them to take the yoke. Ceres also invented the plough, showing her people how to use the blade to dig and slice through the soil, and all the other skills needed for this task. Next she taught them how to scatter the seed on the ground and to cover it over. Once the seed had taken root and grown into shoots, she revealed to them how to cut the sheaves and thresh them with a flail in order to separate the wheat from the chaff. Ceres then demonstrated to them how to grind the grain between heavy stones and to construct mills, going on to show them how to prepare flour and make it into bread. Thus this lady encouraged men who had been living like beasts off acorns, wild grasses, apples and holly berries to eat a more noble diet.

'Ceres didn't stop there: she gathered together her people, who at that time were used to wandering about like animals making their temporary homes in woods or moorlands, into large groups and taught them how to build proper towns and cities and to live in communities. She thereby brought humankind out of its primitive state and introduced it to a more civilized and rational way of life. The poets wrote a fable about Ceres which tells how her daughter was abducted by Pluto, god of the underworld. Because of her great knowledge and all the good that she had brought into the world, the people of the time venerated her, calling her the goddess of corn.'

36. About Isis, who discovered the art of making gardens and growing plants

'Thanks to her extensive knowledge of horticulture, Isis was not only queen of Egypt but also the highly revered goddess of the Egyptians. The fables tell how Isis was loved by Jupiter, who turned her into a cow and then back into her original form, all of which is an allegory of her great learning, as you yourself have pointed out in your Letter of Othea to Hector. For the benefit of the Egyptians, she also invented certain types of characters to represent their language which could be used to write down ideas in a concise way.

'Isis was the daughter of Inachos, king of the Greeks, and sister of Phoroneus, who was a very wise man. It so happened that this lady and her brother left Greece for Egypt and it was there that she showed the people many different things, including how to create gardens, grow plants and graft cuttings of one species on to another. She also set up a number of fine and decent laws which she encouraged the Egyptians to live by, since up until then they had been in a very primitive state without a properly established system of justice. In short, Isis did so much for them that they honoured her with great ceremony both in her own lifetime and after her death. Her fame spread throughout the world, with temples and oratories consecrated to her springing up all over. Even when Rome was at its peak, the Romans erected a temple in her honour where they performed great sacrifices and solemn rites observing the same customs which the Egyptians used to worship her.

'This noble lady's husband was named Apis, whom the pagans mistakenly believed to be the son of the god Jupiter and of Niobe, daughter of Phoroneus. The ancient historians and poets make great mention of this man.'

[...]

43. Christine asks Reason if women are naturally endowed with good judgement, and Reason replies to her question

I, Christine, came back to Reason, saying: 'My lady, it is now clear to me that God has truly made women's minds sharp enough to learn, understand and retain any form of knowledge. Praise be to Him for this! However, I'm always surprised at how many people you see whose minds are very quick to pick up and grasp all that they are shown and who are mentally agile and clever enough to master any discipline they please, attaining great learning through their dedication to their studies, but yet seem to lack judgement when it comes to their personal morals and public behaviour. This is true even of some of the most famous and erudite scholars. There's no doubt that knowledge of the sciences should help inculcate moral values. So, if you please, my lady, I'd be keen to know whether women's minds, which both you and my own experience have proved to me to be capable of understanding the most complex matters in sciences and other disciplines, are just as proficient at learning the lessons which good judgement teaches us. In other words, can women distinguish between what is the right and the wrong thing to do? Can they modify their current behaviour on the basis of past experience? Can they use the example of the present to anticipate how they should conduct themselves in the future? In my view, this is what good judgement consists of.'

Reason replied: 'You're quite right, my dear girl. Yet don't forget that this faculty that you're talking about is inherent in both men and women, and that some are more generously endowed with it than others. Note too that good judgement does not come from learning, though learning can help perfect it in those who are naturally that way inclined, since, as you know, two forces moving in the same direction are stronger and more powerful than a single force moving on its own. Therefore, in my opinion, anyone who has naturally good judgement or good sense and who also manages to attain learning is thoroughly deserving of praise. But, as you yourself have pointed out, some have one but not the other: one is a gift from God and is an innate quality, whereas the other is only acquired after much study. Both, however, are good.

'There are those who would maintain that it is better to have good judgement and no learning than to have great learning but bad judgement. This is a highly controversial proposition that raises all sorts of questions. You could say that the best person is the one who contributes most to the common good. In that case, it's undeniable that learned individuals help others most by sharing their knowledge with them, no matter how much good judgement they might possess. This is because individuals' faculty of judgement only lasts as long as their lifetime: when they die, it does, too. On the other hand, learning which has been acquired endures for ever, in that the good reputation of those who possess it never dies and they can teach their knowledge to others as well as pass it on in books for future generations to discover. Their learning does not therefore die with them, as I can prove to you by the example of Aristotle and all the others who first brought the sciences into the world. This type of acquired knowledge has been more beneficial to humankind than all the good judgement shown by those figures of the past who had no learning, even though many of them used their good sense to govern and administer their empires and kingdoms most wisely. The fact is, these deeds are transient and vanish with time, whereas learning is indestructible.

'However, I'm going to set these matters aside for others to resolve since they are not strictly relevant to our task of building the city. Instead, let's go back to what you originally asked me about whether women naturally have good judgement. On this question, I can give you a firm "yes". You should be able to gather this not just from what I've already told you but also from observing the way in which women generally go about doing their traditionally female duties. If you care to look closely, you'll discover that for the most part women prove themselves to be extremely attentive, diligent and meticulous in running a household and seeing to everything as best they can. Sometimes, those women who have lazy husbands annoy them by giving the impression that they are nagging them, telling them what to do and trying to be the voice of authority in the house; though husbands like this are just putting a bad slant on what most wives do with all good intentions. The next part of what I have to say will be largely derived from the "Epistle of Solomon" which talks about good wives such as these.'

44. The 'Epistle of Solomon' from the Book of Proverbs

'Whoever finds a valiant woman, one of sound judgement, will be a husband who lacks for nothing. Her fame spreads far and wide and her husband puts his faith in her for she brings him nothing but good and prosperity at all times. She looks for and acquires wool, in other words she sets her maid servants a worthy task to keep them gainfully employed and her household well stocked, and she herself lends a hand. She is like the ship of a merchant which brings all good things to shore and provides the bread. She rewards those who deserve it and they are her intimate friends. In her house, there is plenty to eat, even for the servants. She weighs up the price of a piece of land before buying it and she uses her good sense to plant the vines which will keep the household in wine. Full of courage and resolve, she girds her loins with strength and toughens up her arms with continuous hard work. Even in the dark of night, the light of her labours still shines through. She toils at the heavy tasks yet doesn't neglect women's work either, for she does her fair share. She extends a helping hand to the poor and brings them comfort in their suffering. By her efforts, the house is protected against the cold and the snow and her servants' clothing is lined. She dresses herself in silk and purple: that is, in integrity and splendour. Her husband too cuts an honourable figure when he is seated in the top ranks with the most venerable people in the land. She makes fine linen cloth, which she sells, and wraps herself in strength and glory. For this, she will have everlasting joy. Words of wisdom spring from her lips and her tongue is ruled by gentleness. She makes sure that the household is fully provided for and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children's behaviour shows that she is their mother and their actions reveal her tender care. Her husband's fine appearance does her credit. She governs her daughters in all matters, even when they are fully grown. She despises the trappings of glory and the transience of beauty. Such a woman will fear the Lord and be praised, and He will reward her for her labours as they attest to her virtue far and wide.'

[...]

48. About Lavinia, daughter of King Latinus

'Lavinia, queen of the Laurentines, was similarly renowned for her good sense. Descended from the same Cretan king, Saturn, whom I've just mentioned, she was the daughter of King Latinus. She later wed Aeneas, although before her marriage she had been promised to Turnus, king of the Rutulians. Her father, who had been informed by an oracle that she should be given to a Trojan prince, kept putting off the wedding despite the fact that his wife, the queen, was very keen for it to take place. When Aeneas arrived in Italy, he requested King Latinus's permission to enter his territory. He was not only granted leave to do so but was immediately given Lavinia's hand in marriage. It was for this reason that Turnus declared war on Aeneas, a war which caused many deaths and in which Tumus himself was killed. Having secured the victory, Aeneas took Lavinia as his wife. She later bore him a son, even though he himself died whilst she was still pregnant. As her time grew near, she became very afraid that a man called Ascanius, Aeneas's elder son by another woman, would attempt to murder her child and usurp the throne. She therefore went off to give birth in the woods and named the newborn baby Julius Silvius. Vowing never to marry again, Lavinia conducted herself with exemplary good judgement in her widowhood and managed to keep the kingdom intact, thanks to her astuteness. She was able to win her stepson's affection and thus defuse any animosity on his part towards her or his stepbrother. Indeed, once he had finished building the city of Alba, Ascanius left to make his home there. Meanwhile, Lavinia ruled the country with supreme skill until her son came of age. This child's descendants were Romulus and Remus, who later founded the city of Rome. They in turn were the ancestors of all the noble princes who came after them.

'What more can I tell you, my dear Christine? It seems to me that I've cited sufficient evidence to make my point, having given enough examples and proofs to convince you that God has never criticized the female sex more than the male sex. My case is conclusive, as you have seen, and my two sisters here will go on to confirm this for you in their presentation of the facts. I think that I have fulfilled my task of constructing the enclosure walls of the City of Ladies, since they're all now ready and done. Let me give way to my two sisters: with their help and advice you'll soon complete the building work that remains.'

End of the First Part of the Book of the City of Ladies.

Part Ⅱ

1. The first chapter tells of the ten Sibyls

After the first lady, whose name was Reason, had finished speaking, the second lady, called Rectitude, turned to me and said, 'My dear Christine, I mustn't hang back from performing my duty: together we must construct the houses and buildings inside the walls of the City of Ladies which my sister Reason has now put up. Take your tools and come with me. Don't hesitate to mix the mortar well in your inkpot and set to on the masonry work with great strokes of your pen. I'll keep you well supplied with materials. With the grace of God, we'll soon have put up the royal palaces and noble mansions for the glorious and illustrious ladies who will come to live in this city for evermore.'

On hearing this honourable lady's words, I, Christine, replied to her, saying, 'Most excellent lady, here I stand ready before you. I will obey your every command, for my only wish is to do your bidding.'

She then answered me, 'My dear friend, look at these beautiful gleaming stones, more precious than any others in the world, that I have quarried and cut ready for you to use in the building work. Have I stood idly by whilst you were toiling away so hard with Reason? You must now arrange them in the order that I shall give you, following the line that I have traced for you.

'Amongst the highest rank of ladies of great renown are the wise sibyls who were extraordinarily knowledgeable. According to the most authoritative sources, there were ten sibyls, though some maintain there were only nine. My dear Christine, take good note of all this: what greater gift of divine revelation did God ever bestow on any prophet, even the most beloved, than that which He granted to these noble ladies I'm talking about? Didn't He confer on them the holy spirit of prophecy which allowed them to speak and write so straightforwardly and clearly that it was as if they were recounting past and completed actions in the manner of a chronicle, rather than anticipating events that would happen in the future? They even spoke more plainly and in greater detail than any prophet about the coming of Christ, which happened a long time after their day. These ladies kept their virginity intact and their bodies unsullied for the whole of their lives. All ten of them were called Sibyl, but this shouldn't be taken to be a proper name. The word "sibyl" in fact means "one who is privy to the thoughts of God". They were all given this name because their prophecies were of such momentous events that they could only have known of them if they had had access to the mind of God Himself. It's therefore a title of office rather than the name of an individual. Though they were all born in different countries of the world and lived in different eras, they all foresaw great future events including, with particular clarity, the birth of Christ, as I've already mentioned. Moreover, all ten of them were pagans, not even of the Jewish faith.

'The first sibyl came from the land of Persia, and for this reason is called Persica. The second one was from Libya, hence she was known as Libica. The third, born in the temple of Apollo at Delphi, was therefore called Delphica. It was she who predicted the destruction of Troy long before it occurred and she to whom Ovid dedicated a few lines in one of his books. The fourth one was from Italy: her name was Cimeria. The fifth, born in Babylon, was called Herophile: she was the one who prophesied to the Greeks who had come to consult her that they would destroy both Troy and its citadel, Ilium, and that Homer would give an untruthful version of these events in his writings. She was also known as Erythrea, for that was the name of the island where she made her home and where her books were subsequently discovered. The sixth one came from the island of Samos, and was called Sarnia. The seventh was known as Cumana, because she was born in the Italian city of Cumae, in the region of Campania. The eighth was named Hellespontina, for she came from Hellespont on the plains of Troy: she flourished during the time of Cyrus and the famous author Solon. The ninth one, called Phrygica, was from Phrygia, and she not only spoke at length about the fall of many different kingdoms but also described in vivid detail the coming of the false prophet Antichrist. The tenth was called Tiburtina, also known as Albunea, whose writings are held in great esteem because she wrote about Jesus Christ most clearly. Despite the fact that these sibyls were all of pagan origin, each of them eventually repudiated this faith on the grounds that it was wrong to worship a multiplicity of gods, that there was only one true God, and that all idols were false.'

[...]

5. About Cassandra and Queen Basine, as well as more about Nicostrata

'That Nicostrata whom we discussed earlier was also a prophetess. As soon as she crossed the River Tiber and had climbed up on to Mount Palatine with her son Evander, of whom the history books make great mention, she prophesied that on that hill would be built the most famous city that had ever existed, one which would rule over all other earthly kingdoms. In order to be the first person to lay down a founding stone, she constructed a fortress there, as we have said before, and it was on this spot that Rome was founded and subsequently built.

'Likewise, wasn't the noble Trojan maiden Cassandra, daughter of King Priam of Troy and sister of the illustrious Hector, also a prophetess, she who was so learned that she knew all the arts? Having chosen never to take any man for her lord, no matter how high-born a prince he might be, this girl foresaw what would happen to the Trojans and was forever sunk in sorrow. The more she saw the glory of Troy flourish and prosper in the period before the conflict between the Trojans and the Greeks began, the more she wept, wailed and lamented. The sight of the city in all its wealth and magnificence, and of her brothers in all their splendour, especially the noble Hector who was so full of valour, made it impossible for Cassandra to keep to herself all the horror that was to come. On seeing the war break out, her grief intensified and she never left off crying, shrieking and imploring her father and brothers to make peace with the Greeks for heaven's sake, warning them that otherwise the war would destroy every one of them. But her words were all in vain for no one believed her. Moreover, since she refused to be silent but understandably gave full vent to her sorrow at all this destruction and killing, she was often beaten by her father and brothers who told her that she was mad. Yet she never let up for a moment: even if her life depended on it, she would never stop telling them about what was going to happen. In the end, in order to have some peace and to block out the incessant noise she made, they had to shut her up in a distant room far away from other people. However, it would have been better for them if they had believed her, because everything came to pass just as she had said. They eventually regretted what they had done, but by then it was too late.

'Likewise, weren't the prophecies of Queen Basine equally extraordinary, she who had been married to the king of Thuringia and then became the wife of Childeric, the fourth king of France, as the chronicles recall? The story goes that, on her wedding night, she persuaded King Childeric that if he kept himself chaste that night he would receive a marvellous vision. Thereupon she told him to get up and go to the bedroom window and to describe what he could see outside. The king did as she said and it seemed to him that he could see great beasts such as unicorns, leopards and lions coming and going in the palace. Turning round to the queen in terror, he asked her what it all meant. She replied that she would reveal the answer to him in the morning and reassured him that he had nothing to fear but should go back to the window again. This he did, and the second time he thought he saw fierce bears and enormous wolves which seemed to be attacking each other. The queen sent him back to the window a third time and he thought he could see dogs and other small creatures tearing each other to pieces. The king was so horrified and amazed at these things that the queen had to explain to him that the animals he had seen in his vision represented their descendants, the successive generations of French princes who would one day sit on the throne. The different types of animal symbolized what the temperament and behaviour of these various princes would be like.

'So, you can clearly see, my dear Christine, how often God has disclosed His secrets to the world through women.'

[...]

7. Christine addresses Lady Rectitude

'My lady, the more evidence I see and hear which proves that women are innocent of everything that they have been accused of, the more obvious it is to me how in the wrong their accusers are. Yet I can't help myself from mentioning a custom which is quite common amongst men and even some women, which is that when wives are pregnant and give birth to a daughter, their husbands are very often unhappy and disgruntled that they didn't bear them a son. Their silly wives, who should be overjoyed that God has delivered them safely and should thank Him with all their hearts, are also upset because they see that their husbands are distressed. But why is it, my lady, that they are so displeased? Is it because girls are more trouble than boys or less loving and caring towards their parents than male children are?'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear friend, since you've asked me why this happens, I can assure you that those who upset themselves tend to do so out of ignorance and stupidity. However, the main reason why they are unhappy is because they worry how much it's going to cost them to marry off their daughters since they will have to pay for it out of their own pockets. Others, though, are dismayed because they're afraid of the danger that a young and innocent girl can be led astray by the wrong sort of people. Yet neither of these reasons stands up to scrutiny. As for being worried that their daughters will disgrace themselves, all the parents have to do is bring them up properly when they're little, with the mother setting them an example through her own respectable behaviour and good advice; though if the mother has lax morals, she will hardly be a fit example for the daughter to follow. Daughters should be kept on a tight rein away from bad company and taught to fear their parents because bringing infants and children up strictly helps to establish good conduct later in life. Likewise, on the question of the expense involved, I would say that if the parents, whatever social class they may be, looked carefully at what it costs them to set their sons up or to pay for them to study or learn a trade, let alone all the extra money which their sons spend on disreputable acquaintances and unnecessary luxuries, they would soon realize that sons are scarcely less of a financial burden than daughters. Not to mention all the terrible anguish and worry that many sons frequently inflict on their parents by getting into nasty fights and vicious brawls or by falling into depraved habits, all this to the shame of their parents and at their expense. To my mind, this far outweighs any distress that their daughters might cause them.

'See how many names you can cite of sons who actually looked after their aged parents with kindness and consideration, as they should do. Though one can find both past and present examples, they're rather thin on the ground and their assistance comes only at the last minute. What usually happens is that, when they're all grown up, having been treated like a god by their parents and having learnt a trade or studied thanks to their father's help, or become rich and affluent by some stroke of good fortune, if their father falls on hard times or into destitution, they'll turn their backs on him and be ashamed and embarrassed when they see him. If, on the other hand, the father is well off, they can't wait for him to die so that they can get their hands on his estate. God knows how many sons of great lords and wealthy men long for the death of their parents in order to inherit their lands and possessions. Petrarch definitely spoke the truth when he said: "O foolish man, you wish to have children but you can have no deadlier enemies than these. If you are poor, they will despise you and will pray for your death so as to be rid of you. If you are rich, they will pray for it all the more in order to grab your wealth." I don't mean to say that all sons are like this, but many of them are. Moreover, if they're married, God knows how insatiable they can be as they suck their mother and father dry to the extent that they wouldn't care if the poor old things starved to death as long as they can inherit the lot. What dreadful offspring! If their mothers are widowed, instead of comforting them and being a rod and staff to them in their old age, they pay them back terribly for all the love and devotion their mothers have spent on bringing them up. Bad children have the idea that everything should belong to them, so if their mothers don't give them all they want, they don't hesitate to pour down their curses upon them. Heaven knows what kind of respect this is to show one's mother! Worse still, some of them think nothing of taking their mothers to court and bringing a case against them. That's the reward that many parents get for having spent their whole lives putting their money to one side for the benefit of their children. Plenty of sons are like this, and it may be too that some daughters are of the same ilk. But if you look closely, I think you'll find that there are more unworthy sons than daughters.

'Even if all male children were dutiful, the fact remains that you see more daughters than sons keeping their mothers and fathers company. They not only visit them more often, but also comfort them and look after them more when they're old and infirm. The reason for this is that boys tend to go out and about in the world whereas gifts tend to be retiring and stay closer to home, as you yourself can attest. Though your brothers are very loving and devoted sons, they have gone out into the world whilst you have stayed behind alone to take care of your dear mother and are the main comfort to her in her old age. To sum up, I would say that those who are upset and unhappy at having daughters are completely deluded. Whilst we're on this subject, I'd like to tell you about several women mentioned amongst others in the history books who were very kind and caring towards their parents.'

8. Here begins a series of daughters who loved their parents, the first of whom is Drypetina

'Drypetina, Queen of Laodicea, was very loving towards her father. She was the daughter of the great King Mithradates and was so devoted to him that she followed him into all his battles. This girl was extremely ugly, for she had two sets of teeth, a very severe deformity. However, she loved her father so much that she never left his side, in good times or in bad. Despite the fact that she was the queen and lady of a vast realm, which meant that she could have lived a safe and comfortable life in her own country, she preferred to share her father's sufferings and hardships whenever he went off to war. Even when he was defeated by the mighty Pompey, she still did not abandon him but looked after him with great care and dedication.'

[...]

12. Here Rectitude explains that the houses of the city have been completed and that it is time they were filled with inhabitants

'My dearest friend, it seems to me that our building is well underway and that the City of Ladies now has plentiful housing all along its wide streets. The royal palaces are completed and the defence towers and keeps are now standing proud, tall enough to be seen from miles away. It's high time that we began to fill this city with people. It should not stand deserted or empty but should be full of illustrious ladies, as they alone are welcome here. How happy the inhabitants of our city will be! They will have no cause to fear being thrown out of their homes by enemy hordes, for this place has a special property which means that those who move into it will never be dispossessed. A new Realm of Femininia is at hand, except that this one is so much more perfect than the previous one because the ladies who live here will have no need to leave their territory in order to breed the new generations of women who will inherit their realm down the ages. The ladies we're going to invite here will be sufficient in number to last for all time.

'Once we have filled the city with worthy citizens, my sister, Lady Justice, will come bringing with her the queen, a magnificent lady who surpasses all others, accompanied by a host of the noblest princesses. It is they who will occupy the finest buildings and will make their homes in the lofty towers. So it's all the more urgent that, when the queen comes, she should find the city full of excellent ladies ready to receive her with all honours as their supreme mistress and as the empress of their sex. What type of citizens shall we bring? Will they be dissolute women of ill repute? Most certainly not! They will all be valiant ladies of great renown, for we could wish for no worthier population nor more beautiful adornment to our city than such virtuous and honourable women as these. Come now, Christine, let's set out in search of our ladies.'

13. Christine asks Lady Rectitude if it's true what men and books say about the institution of marriage being unbearable because women are so impossible to live with. In her reply, Rectitude begins by discussing the great love that women have for their husbands

Whilst we were doing as Rectitude had said and were on our way to fetch the ladies we were looking for, I said to her as we walked along, 'My lady, you and Reason have conclusively replied to all the questions and queries that I was unable to answer for myself and I think that I'm now much better informed than I was before on these matters. Thanks to you two, I have discovered that women are more than capable of undertaking any task which requires physical strength or of learning any discipline which requires discernment and intelligence. However, I would now like to ask your opinion about something which is weighing very heavily on my mind. Is it true what so many men say and so many authors in their books claim about it being the fault of women and their shrewish, vengeful nagging that the married state is such a constant hell for men? There are plenty of people who maintain that this is the case, arguing that women care so little for their husbands and their company that there is nothing which irritates them more. In order to avoid this misery and these problems, many authors have advised men to be wise and not to marry at all, on the grounds that there are no women - or hardly any - who are faithful to their spouses. This view is even echoed in the Letter of Valerius to Ruffinus which quotes Theophrastus who, in his book, stated that no wise man would take a wife because women cause trouble, lack affection, and gossip incessantly. He also says that if a man gets married thinking that he'll be well looked after and well cared for if he falls ill, he'd be much better off being attended by a loyal servant, who would also cost him a lot less too. If the wife falls ill, on the other hand, he'll be all anxious and will feel obliged not to leave her side. Theophrastus came out with much more in this vein, but I won't go into it any further. My dear lady, if such things are true, it would seem that these faults are so awful that they cancel out completely whatever good qualities or virtues a woman might have.'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear Christine, as you yourself said earlier on this subject, it's certainly easy to win your case when there's no one to argue against you. But believe me when I tell you that the books which put forward these ideas were definitely not written by women. Indeed, I have no doubt that if one wanted to write a new book on the question of marriage by gathering information based on the facts; one would come up with a very different set of views. My dear friend, as you yourself know, there are so many wives who lead a wretched existence bound in marriage to a brutish husband who makes them suffer greater penance than if they were enslaved by Saracens. Oh God, how many fine and decent women have been viciously beaten for no good reason, heaped with insults, obscenities and curses, and subjected to all manner of burdens and indignities, without uttering even a murmur of protest. Not to mention all those wives who are laden down with lots of tiny mouths to feed and lie starving to death in penury whilst their husbands are either out visiting places of depravity or living it up in town or in taverns. All that wives such as these get for supper when their husbands come home is a good hiding. I ask you, am I telling lies? Haven't you ever seen any of your neighbours being treated in this way?'

I replied, 'Yes, my lady. I've seen many women treated like this and I felt sorry for them.'

'I can well believe it. As for those husbands who are anxious when their wives fall ill, I ask you, my dear friend, do you know of any? Without going into further detail, let me tell you that all this rubbish that has ever been said and written about wives is just a string of falsehoods tied together. It is the husband who is the master of the wife, and not the other way round. A man would never allow himself to be dominated by a woman. However, let me assure you that not all marriages are like this. There are some married couples who love each other, are faithful to each other, and live together in peace: in these cases it is both spouses who are sensible, kind and gentle. Though there are bad husbands, there are also some who are decent, honourable and wise. The women who have the good fortune to marry them should thank God for giving them so much happiness here on this earth. You yourself can attest to this since you couldn't have wished for a better husband than you had. In your opinion, he surpassed all other men in kindness, gentleness, loyalty and affection, and you will never stop grieving for his death in your heart. Whilst it's undeniable that there are many fine women who are badly treated by their contrary husbands, it's also true to say that some wives are wilful and unreasonable. Indeed, if I claimed that all wives were paragons of virtue, I would quite rightly be accused of being a liar. However, these women are in the minority. Anyway, I'd rather not discuss such women because they're like creatures who go totally against their nature.

'Talking about good wives instead, let's go back to what that Theophrastus, whom you mentioned earlier, said about a sick man being as well looked after and as faithfully attended by a servant as by a wife. You see countless good and loyal wives who serve their husbands in sickness or in health with as much loving care as if they were gods! I don't think you're going to find many servants like that. Since we're on this subject, I'll now give you some examples of wives who adored their husbands and were utterly devoted to them. Now, thank the Lord, we can come back to our city with a fine host of decent and respectable ladies whom we can invite inside. Here is the noble Queen Hypsicratea, who was once wife of the mighty King Mithradates. Because she belongs to such ancient times and is of such inestimable worth, she shall be the first to take her place in the magnificent palace which has been prepared for her.'

14. About Queen Hypsicratea

'How could anyone show more love for another person than the beautiful Hypsicratea did for her husband, she who was so kind and loyal? This lady was the wife of the great King Mithradates who ruled over lands where twenty-four different languages were spoken. Despite the fact that this king was the most powerful on earth, the Romans waged a terrible war on him. In all the time that he was engaged in his lengthy and arduous battles, his good wife never left him, no matter where he went. As was the barbarian custom, this king also had several concubines. However, this noble lady bore her husband such a deep love that she refused to let him go anywhere without her and frequently went off with him into battle. Though the fate of the kingdom was at stake and the threat of death at the hands of the Romans ever present, she travelled everywhere with him to far-off places and strange lands, crossing seas and perilous deserts and never once failing to be his faithful companion at his side. Her affection for him was so strong that she deemed that no man could possibly serve her lord with such perfect loyalty as she could.

'So, contrary to what the philosopher Theophrastus says on the subject, this lady was well aware that kings and princes can often have disloyal servants who serve them badly. Therefore, like the faithful lady she was, she devoted herself to ensuring that her lord's every possible need was met. Though she had to endure many hardships, she followed him through thick and thin. Since it was impractical for her to wear women's clothing in these conditions, and it was thought improper that the wife of such a great king and warrior should be seen at his side in battle, she cut off her finest womanly attribute, her long, golden hair, in order to disguise herself as a man. Neither did she give a thought to protecting her complexion, for she strapped on a helmet and her face soon grew dirty from all the sweat and dust. Her lovely, graceful body she clad in armour and weighed down with a coat of chainmail. She took off all her precious rings and costly jewellery and instead roughened her hands from carrying heavy axes and spears, as well as a bow and arrows. Round her waist she wore no elegant girdle but a sword. Because of the great love and loyalty she bore her husband, this lady so thoroughly adapted herself to her new surroundings that her charming and delicate young body, which was made for softer and more pleasurable living, was transformed into that of a strong and powerfully built knight-in-arms. Listen to what Boccaccio says in his version of the story: "Is there anything that love cannot accomplish? Here we see this lady, who was used to the finer things in life such as a soft bed and every possible comfort, choosing of her own free will to make herself as tough and rugged as any man, journeying over hill and dale, travelling by day and night, bedding down in deserts and forests often on the hard ground, in perpetual fear of the enemy and surrounded on all sides by wild beasts and serpents." Yet all this seemed agreeable to her as long as she could be at her husband's side to comfort and advise him, seeing to his every need.

'Later on, after having suffered many great hardships together, her husband was cruelly defeated by Pompey, a prince of the Roman army, and had to take flight. Though he was abandoned by all his men, his wife alone stayed with him, following him as he fled across mountains and valleys and through many dark and dangerous places. On the point of despair at having been deserted and forsaken by all his friends, the king was comforted by his faithful wife who gently encouraged him to hope for better days to come. Even when they were at their lowest ebb, she still made every effort to bring him good cheer and to lift his spirits by finding the right words to dispel his sadness and by inventing some amusing and distracting games for them to play together. By means of these things and her great kindness, she brought him such consolation that no matter how downcast or dejected he was, or how much suffering he had to bear, she found a way to make him forget his unhappiness. He was often moved to say that he didn't feel like he was in exile but rather as if he were at home in his palace having a delightful time with his devoted wife.'

[...]

21. About Xanthippe, wife of the philosopher Socrates

'The honourable lady Xanthippe was a very wise and virtuous woman who married the great philosopher Socrates. Though he was already very old and spent more time poring over his books than buying his wife little treats and presents, the good lady never stopped loving him. Indeed, she thought so highly of his extraordinary wisdom, as well as his great goodness and steadfastness, that she loved him very deeply and took enormous pride in him. When the brave and noble Xanthippe learnt that the Athenians had sentenced her husband to death for having attacked their practice of worshipping idols and for claiming that there was only one god whom they should honour and serve, she was unable to control her emotions. Rushing out into the street with her hair all undone and racked with sobbing, she fought her way into the palace where her husband was being held and found him surrounded by the treacherous judges who were already handing him the cup of poison that would end his life. She came into the room just as Socrates had raised the cup to his lips and was about to drink the poison, whereupon she dashed it from his hands and spilt all the liquid on to the floor. Socrates chided her for this and tried to comfort her by telling her to have patience. Unable to do anything to prevent his death, she gave full vent to her sorrow, crying, "What a crime and a great loss it is to kill such a good man! What a sin and an injustice!" Socrates kept on trying to console her, explaining that it was better to be wrongfully put to death than to have deserved one's punishment. So he died, but throughout the rest of her life his loving wife never stopped grieving for him in her heart.'

[...]

25. Christine speaks to Lady Rectitude about those who claim that women cannot keep a secret. In her reply, Rectitude talks about Portia, Cato's daughter

'My lady, I am now totally convinced of what I have often seen for myself: many women of both the past and the present have clearly shown their husbands how much they love them and are devoted to them. That's why I'm so puzzled by a saying which is very common amongst men, including Master Jean de Meun in his Romance of the Rose, as well as other writers, that a man should avoid telling a woman anything which he wants kept secret because women are incapable of keeping their mouths shut.'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear friend, as you are aware, not all women are necessarily very wise and neither are all men. Therefore, if a man has any sense, he should judge for himself if his wife is trustworthy and well-meaning before he tells her anything in confidence, because it could have dangerous consequences. Any man who knows that his wife is dependable, careful and discreet can rest assured that there is no other creature in the world whom he can trust more implicitly nor on whom he can rely so completely.

'On the question of whether women are as indiscreet as some maintain, we also come back to the issue of wives who loved their husbands. The noble Brutus of Rome, who was married to Portia, certainly did not subscribe to this opinion. This fine lady, Portia, was the daughter of Cato the Younger, the nephew of Cato the Elder. Knowing how wise and virtuous she was, her husband did not hesitate to tell her that he and Cassius, another Roman nobleman, planned to kill Julius Caesar in the senate. However, foreseeing that this deed would have terrible repercussions, the sensible lady did her best to dissuade her husband from carrying out his plan. She was so disturbed by the thought of what he intended to do that she was unable to sleep at all that night. The next morning, as Brutus left the bedroom to go off and execute his plan, in a desperate attempt to stop him, Portia seized a barber's razorblade as if to clip her fingernails with it and dropped it on the floor. She then reached down to pick it up again and deliberately dug it deep into her hand. Horrified by the sight of her wound, her ladies screamed so loudly that Brutus turned back. When he saw how she had cut herself, he scolded her and told her that it was a barber's job to use the razor, not hers. She replied that she hadn't acted as stupidly as he might think: she had done it on purpose in order to find out how to kill herself, should any harm come to him after he had carried out his plan. Still refusing to change his mind, Brutus left the house. Soon after, he and Cassius together killed Julius Caesar. They were sent into exile for what they had done and Brutus was subsequently murdered, even though he had already been banished from Rome. When his wife, Portia, learnt of his death, she was so distraught that she had no further desire to live. Since all the sharp instruments and knives had been taken away from her, because it was obvious what she intended to do, she went over to the fire and swallowed some live coals instead. The noble Portia thus killed herself by burning her insides, truly the strangest death that anyone has ever suffered.'

[...]

28. Proof against those who claim that only an idiot takes his wife's advice or puts his trust in her. Christine asks some questions to which Rectitude replies

'My lady, having heard your arguments and seen for myself how sensible and dependable women are, I'm amazed that some people claim that only a stupid idiot listens to his wife and trusts her advice.'

Rectitude replied, 'I pointed out to you earlier that not all women are wise. However, those men who do have responsible, trustworthy wives are fools if they refuse to put their faith in them. You can see this from what I've just told you: if Brutus had let Portia persuade him not to assassinate Julius Caesar, he himself would not have been killed and he could have avoided causing all the harm that was subsequently done. Whilst we're on this subject, I'll tell you about certain other men who suffered the consequences of not listening to their spouses. Afterwards, I'll go on to give you some examples where the husbands did well to take their wives' advice.

'If Julius Caesar, whom we've just mentioned, had trusted his sensible and intelligent wife, who had seen various signs foretelling her husband's assassination and had a terrible dream about it the night before, which made her do everything she could to try to stop him from going to the senate that day, he would not have gone and met his death.

'The same can be said of Pompey, who first married Julia, daughter of Julius Caesar, as I told you before, and then took as his second wife another noble lady, by the name of Cornelia. Going back to what we were talking about earlier, this lady loved her husband so dearly that she refused to leave him, no matter what misfortune befell him. Even when he was forced to escape by sea after having been defeated in battle by Julius Caesar, this good lady Cornelia went with him and faced every danger at his side. When Pompey arrived at the kingdom of Egypt, the treacherous King Ptolemy pretended that he was glad to receive him, sending his people ahead to welcome Pompey although in fact their mission was to kill him. These people told Pompey to get back on board ship and leave everybody else ashore so as to lighten the vessel of its load and thus manoeuvre it more easily into port. Pompey was happy to comply with their wishes but his loyal wife tried to dissuade him from separating himself from all his men by doing so. Seeing that he wasn't going to change his mind, she tried to jump back on to the ship with him because she suspected deep down that something was amiss. However, he wouldn't allow her to do so and had to have her held back by force. That was the point at which all this lady's sorrow began, a sorrow which was to haunt her all her life. No sooner had her husband sailed only a short way out than, having never taken her eyes off him for a second, she saw him being killed by the traitors on board. She was so distraught that she would have thrown herself into the sea if she hadn't been restrained.

'Likewise, the same sort of misfortune struck the worthy Hector of Troy. The night before he was killed, his wife Andromache had a most extraordinary dream which told her that if Hector went into battle the next day he would surely lose his life. Horrified by what she took to be not simply a nightmare but a true prophecy, this lady went down on her knees and begged her husband with hands joined together in supplication not to join the fighting that day, even bringing their two lovely children before him in her arms. However, he took no notice of her words, thinking that he would bring irreparable dishonour on himself if he allowed a woman's advice to stop him from going into combat. Neither was he moved by his mother's and father's entreaties after Andromache had asked them to intercede on her behalf. It thus all happened exactly as she had said and it would have been better for Hector if he had listened to her because he was killed by Achilles in battle.

'I could give you endless other examples of men who came to harm in various ways for not deigning to take their good wives' sensible advice. However, those who met a bad end because they dismissed what their wives had to say have only themselves to blame.'

[...]

31. About Judith, the noble widow

'Judith, the noble widow, saved the people of Israel from destruction at the time when Nebuchadnezzar II sent Holofernes to rule over the Jews, having conquered the land of Egypt. This Holofernes and his great army were besieging the Jews inside the city and had already inflicted so much damage on them that they could scarcely hold out much longer. He had cut off their water supply, and their stocks of food were almost exhausted. Despairing of being able to withstand much more, the Jews were on the point of being defeated by Holofernes and were in total dismay. They began to say their prayers, beseeching God to have mercy on His people and to prevent them from falling into the clutches of the enemy. God heard their prayers and, just as He would later save the human race by a woman, so He chose on this occasion to send a woman to their rescue.

'In the city lived a noble and valiant lady called Judith, who was a young and lovely woman of exemplary virtue and chastity. She took pity on the people in their distress and prayed to God day and night to save them. Inspired by God, in whom she had placed her trust, Judith hatched a daring plan. One night, commending herself to the Lord's care, she left the city accompanied only by one of her maid servants and headed for Holofernes's camp. When the soldiers who were on sentry duty saw in the moonlight how beautiful she was, they took her straight to Holofernes, who was delighted to receive such a dazzling woman. He made her sit down beside him and was soon entranced by her intelligence, proud bearing and beauty. The more he gazed at her, the more he burned with desire for her. She, who had other ideas, offered up a silent prayer to God to beg for His help in her endeavours, and managed to string Holofernes along with little promises until she could find the right moment. Three nights later, Holofernes threw a banquet for his barons and drank very heavily. Sated with food and drink, he couldn't wait any longer to sleep with the Hebrew woman so he sent for her to come to him, which she did. When he told her what he wanted, she was ready to do as he wished on condition that, for the sake of propriety, he made all his men leave his tent. He should then get into bed first, to be joined by Judith at midnight when everyone else was asleep. Holofernes accepted her terms. The good lady then began to pray, begging God to give her the necessary strength and courage in her trembling woman's heart to rid her people of this foul tyrant.

'When Judith thought that Holofernes would have fallen asleep, she and her maid servant crept up to the opening of his tent and stood listening. Hearing him sound asleep, the lady exclaimed, "Let's do it now, for God is with us!" She went inside and fearlessly grabbed hold of his sword that was hanging by the bed and drew it out of its scabbard. Using all her strength to lift the blade, she cut off Holofernes's head without making a sound. With the head wrapped in her skirts, she ran back to the city as fast as she could. Having returned to the gates without meeting any opposition, she called out, "Come and open up, for God is with us!" Once she was back inside, you can't imagine how overjoyed they all were at what she had done. In the morning, they impaled the head on a spike and stuck it on top of the city walls. They then threw on their armour and mounted a bold and swift attack on the enemy who were still sleeping, never once suspecting that this might happen. The enemy rushed to their leader's tent to wake him up and to get him out of bed as quickly as possible, but they were horrified to find him slain. The Jews took them all prisoner and killed every last one. Thus the people of Israel were delivered out of the hands of Holofernes by Judith, that valiant woman whose praises shall be sung for ever in Holy Scripture.'

[...]

33. About the Sabine women

'I could give you many examples of pagan women of antiquity who saved their countries, towns or cities. However, I'll limit myself to two important instances with which to prove my point.

'After the foundation of Rome by Romulus and Remus, Romulus filled the city with as many knights and soldiers as he could collect together after the numerous victories he had won. He was most anxious to obtain wives for these men in order that they would have heirs who would reign over the city in the years to come. However, he was unsure how to go about finding women for himself and his companions to marry, as the kings, princes and people in the surrounding country were reluctant to give them their daughters or to establish any links with them because they considered them to be too reckless, uncivilized and unreliable a race. For this reason, Romulus had to devise a cunning plan. He had it announced throughout the land that a tournament of jousting would take place and he invited all the kings, princes and citizens to come and bring their ladies and daughters to watch the entertainment provided by the foreign knights. On the day of the festivities, a vast crowd gathered on all sides, for a large number of ladies and maidens had come to watch the sport. Amongst them was the daughter of the Sabine king, a charming and beautiful girl, accompanied by all the other ladies and girls of her country whom she had brought along. The games took place outside the city walls, on a plain at the foot of a hill, with the ladies seated high up in rows. The knights outdid each other in their feats and exploits, for the sight of these lovely ladies inspired them to great deeds of bravery and daring. To keep my story brief, after they had been fighting for a while, Romulus decided that it was time to execute his plan and so took out a great ivory horn on which he gave a loud blast. At this sound, which was a signal for them to act, the knights stopped their jousting and ran towards the ladies. Romulus snatched the king's daughter, with whom he was already smitten, whilst the other knights each took the one they wanted. Forcing the ladies to get up on to their horses, the Romans galloped off towards the city and bolted the gates firmly behind them. Outside, the women's fathers and kinsmen let out great cries of grief, as did the ladies themselves who had been abducted, but their weeping was totally in vain. Romulus married his lady with great ceremony, and all the other knights did likewise.

'This event caused a terrible war to break out. As soon as he could, the Sabine king gathered a great army together to attack the Romans. However, it was not easy to defeat them as they were such experts in battle. The war had already lasted five years when, one day, the two sides prepared to meet in full strength on the battlefield and it was obvious that there was going to be an appalling massacre with enormous loss of life. The Romans had already left the city gates in huge numbers when the queen called all the ladies of Rome to meet together in a temple. This wise and beautiful young woman addressed them, saying: "Honourable Sabine ladies; sisters and companions, you all know only too well how we were abducted by our husbands and how this has caused a war between our fathers and kinsmen on the one side and our husbands on the other. There is no way that this deadly conflict can continue or even come to an end, without it being to our detriment, no matter who has the final victory. If we lose our husbands, whom we quite rightly adore now that we have borne them children, we shall be broken-hearted and devastated to see our babies deprived of their fathers. If, on the other hand, our husbands are victorious and our fathers and kinsmen are killed, we will surely deeply regret that all this conflict happened because of us. What is done is done and cannot now be undone. In my view, we need to find some way to bring this war to a peaceful end. If you decide to take my advice and follow my lead in what I'm going to do, I think that we'll be able to bring this about.' Hearing her words, the other ladies replied with one voice that they would do as she said and would obey her instructions.

'The queen therefore undid her hair and took off her shoes, as did all the other ladies. Those who had babies picked them up in their arms and carried them with them. In addition, there was a whole host of children, as well as pregnant women. The queen walked at the head of this touching procession and they all headed straight for the battlefield just as the two armies were lining up. They took up their position in between the opposing sets of troops, making it impossible for the knights to attack each other without first running into the women. The queen and all the other ladies fell to their knees and shouted out, "Dear fathers and kinsmen, beloved husbands: for God's sake, make peace! If not, we are prepared to die trampled underfoot by your horses." Seeing their wives and children in tears, the knights were astonished and dismayed: there was certainly no way that they would run at them. The women's fathers were similarly moved to compassion at the sight of their daughters in this terrible state. The two sides looked at each other and, out of pity for the women who were humbly begging them to desist, their hatred turned to proper filial love. Sabines and Romans alike were forced to throw down their weapons as they rushed to embrace each other and make peace. Romulus led his father-in-law, the king of the Sabines, into the city and received him and his whole army with great honour. Thus, thanks to the good sense and bravery of the queen and her ladies, the Romans and the Sabines were prevented from massacring each other.'

[...]

36. Against those who claim that it is not good for women to be educated

After hearing these words I, Christine, said, 'My lady, I can clearly see that much good has been brought into the world by women. Even if some wicked women have done evil things it still seems to me that this is far outweighed by all the good that other women have done and continue to do. This is particularly true of those who are wise and well educated in either the arts or the sciences, whom we mentioned before. That's why I'm all the more amazed at the opinion of some men who state that they are completely opposed to their daughters, wives or other female relatives engaging in study, for fear that their morals will be corrupted.'

Rectitude replied, 'This should prove to you that not all men's arguments are based on reason, and that these men in particular are wrong. There are absolutely no grounds for assuming that knowledge of moral disciplines, which actually inculcate virtue, would have a morally corrupting effect. Indeed, there's no doubt whatsoever that such forms of knowledge correct one's vices and improve one's morals. How could anyone possibly think that by studying good lessons and advice one will be any the worse for it? This view is completely unthinkable and untenable. I'm not saying that it's a good idea for men or women to study sorcery or any other type of forbidden science, since the Holy Church did not ban people from practising them for nothing. However, it's just that it's not true to say that women will be corrupted by knowing what's right and proper.

'Quintus Hortensius, who was a great rhetorician and a fine orator of Rome, did not subscribe to this opinion. He had a daughter named Hortensia, whom he loved dearly for her keen wits. He educated her himself, teaching her the science of rhetoric in which, states Boccaccio, she so excelled that she not only resembled her father in her intelligence, agile memory and excellent diction, but in fact surpassed him in her marvellous eloquence and command of oratory. On the subject of what we said before about all the benefits that women have brought, the good that this lady did is especially worthy of note. It was at the time when a triumvirate ruled over Rome that this Hortensia decided to take up the cause of women, thus performing a task which no man dared to do. As Rome was in great financial straits, it was proposed to levy certain charges on women and, in particular, to put a tax on their valuables. This Hortensia spoke so persuasively that she was listened to as attentively as if it had been her father speaking, and won her case.

'If we discuss more recent times, rather than going back to ancient history, Giovanni Andrea, the famous legist who taught at Bologna nearly sixty years ago, similarly opposed the view that women should not be educated. He gave his beloved daughter Novella, a fine and lovely girl, such a good education and detailed knowledge of law that, when he was busy with other tasks which prevented him from lecturing to his students, he could send his daughter in his place to read to them from his professorial chair. In order not to distract the audience by her beauty, Novella had a little curtain put up in front of her. Thus she lightened her father's load and relieved him of some of his duties. In his devotion to her, he chose to preserve her name for posterity by writing an important commentary on a legal text which he named La Novella in her honour.

'Therefore, it is not all men, especially not the most intelligent, who agree with the view that it is a bad idea to educate women. However, it's true that those who are not very clever come out with this opinion because they don't want women to know more than they do. Your own father, who was a great astrologer and philosopher, did not believe that knowledge of the sciences reduced a woman's worth. Indeed, as you know, it gave him great pleasure to see you take so readily to studying the arts. Rather, it was because your mother, as a woman, held the view that you should spend your time spinning like the other gifts, that you did not receive a more advanced or detailed initiation into the sciences. But, as that proverb which we've already had occasion to quote says, "What is in our nature cannot be taken away." Despite your mother's opposition, you did manage to glean some grains of knowledge from your studies, thanks to your own natural inclination for learning. It's obvious to me that you do not esteem yourself any less for having this knowledge: in fact, you seem to treasure it, and quite rightly so.'

I, Christine, then replied, 'Without a doubt, what you're saying, my lady, is as true as the Lord's Prayer itself.'

37. Christine addresses Rectitude, who gives examples to contradict those who claim that few women are chaste, beginning with Susanna

As far as I can see, my lady, all forms of goodness and virtue can be found in the female sex. So why is it that these men say that so few women are chaste? If this were true, all their other qualities would be worthless, because chastity is the supreme virtue in a woman. Yet, hearing what you've just said, the truth would seem to be very different from what they claim.'

Rectitude answered, 'The complete opposite is true, as I've told you before and as you yourself already know. I could keep telling you more on this subject until the end of time itself! The Holy Scripture mentions so many excellent and chaste ladies who preferred to die rather than lose their chastity, bodily integrity and good conscience. One such lady was the virtuous and lovely Susanna, wife of Joachim, who was a very rich and influential member of the Jewish race. As this honest lady was walking in her garden one day, she was approached by two old men, corrupt priests, who tried to tempt her into sin. Seeing that she completely rejected their advances and that their pleas were getting them nowhere, they threatened to denounce her in court for having been found with a young man. On hearing their threats, and knowing that the punishment for an adulterous woman was to be stoned, she exclaimed, "I am caught for all sides, for if I refuse to do what these men want, my body shall be put to death. But, if I give in to their demands, I shall be committing a sin in the eyes of the Creator. However, I would rather be innocent and suffer death than risk rousing God's anger by sinning." Susanna therefore screamed out loud and the other members of her household came running. To cut a long story short, the corrupt priests managed to convince the court with their false testimony and Susanna was sentenced to death. Yet God, who always looks after His own, opened the mouth of the prophet Daniel, who was just a small child in his mother's arms: when the boy saw Susanna being led to her punishment, followed by a great crowd of people who were all weeping, he cried out that the innocent woman had been wrongfully accused. She was taken back to the court where the corrupt priests were properly cross-examined and found guilty by their own confessions. The blameless Susanna was saved and it was they who were punished instead.'

[...]

44. In order to contradict those who claim that women want to be raped, here begins a series of examples, the first of which is Lucretia

I, Christine, then said, 'My lady, I fully believe what you say and I'm sure that there are many beautiful women who are upright, decent and fully able to protect themselves from the traps laid by seducers. It therefore angers and upsets me when men claim that women want to be raped and that, even though a woman may verbally rebuff a man, she won't in fact mind it if he does force himself upon her. I can scarcely believe that it could give women any pleasure to be treated in such a vile way.'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear friend, you can be sure that women who are chaste and lead a moral existence would find no pleasure in being raped. On the contrary, they think that it is the worst thing that could possibly happen to them. There are several examples, such as that of Lucretia, which prove that this is definitely the case. Lucretia, a high-born lady of Rome and, indeed, the most virtuous of all Roman women, was married to a nobleman called Tarquinius Collatinus. Unfortunately, Tarquin the Proud, son of King Tarquin, was deeply smitten with the great Lucretia. Having seen with his own eyes how supremely chaste she was, he didn't dare approach her directly. Despairing of being able to persuade her with bribes and entreaties, he plotted how to win her by trickery. He therefore pretended to be a close friend of her husband's, which meant that he was able to come and go as he pleased in her house. One day, when he knew that her husband was absent, he was welcomed most honourably by his noble hostess, as befitted a guest whom she took to be her husband's great friend. That night, Tarquin, who had other ideas, scared Lucretia out of her wits when he broke into her bedroom. In short, having made her numerous promises of gifts and presents if she would do what he wanted, he saw that pleading with her was getting him nowhere. He therefore pulled out his sword and threatened to kill her if she made a sound or refused to give herself to him. She told him to go ahead and kill her because she preferred to die rather than submit to his advances. When he realized that his threats were all in vain, Tarquin came up with another despicable ruse, declaring that he would let it be known publicly that he had found her with one of her servants. To cut a long story short, the thought that he would do such a thing so appalled her that she finally gave in to him.

'Yet Lucretia was unable to bear this awful offence with resignation. When morning came, she went to find her husband, father and close relatives, who were all the most prominent citizens of Rome. With great sobs and moans, she confessed to them the deed that had been perpetrated on her. As her husband and family were trying to comfort her in her terrible distress, she drew out a knife from under her gown, saying: "Though I Can absolve myself of sin and prove myself innocent this way, I can't get rid of my suffering and pain: henceforth no woman need live in shame and dishonour because of what has been done to me." With these words, she plunged the knife deep into her breast and immediately fell down dead in front of her husband and his friends. Like madmen, they all rushed after Tarquin. The whole of Rome was incensed by what had happened: they deposed the king and would have killed his son if they had caught him. After that, Rome never had another king. Some say that because of the outrage done to Lucretia, a law was passed which sentenced to death any man who raped a woman, a law which is moral, fitting and just.'

[...]

47. Proofs to refute the view that women are lacking in constancy: Christine asks questions, to which Rectitude replies with various examples of emperors who were unreliable and inconsistent

'My lady, the women you've been talking about were certainly extremely steadfast, resolute and faithful. Could one say as much of even the strongest men who ever lived? Yet, of all the vices that men, and especially authors, accuse women of possessing, they are unanimous that the female sex is unstable and fickle, frivolous, flighty and weak-minded, as impressionable as children and completely lacking in resolution. Are men therefore so unwavering that it is utterly unheard of for them to vacillate, given that they criticize women for being so unreliable and changeable? If, in fact, they themselves are lacking in constancy, it's totally unacceptable for them to accuse others of having the same failing or to insist that others should possess a virtue which they themselves do not.'

Rectitude's reply was, 'My dear sweet friend, haven't you heard the common saying that fools are very quick to spot the mote in their neighbour's eye but slow to see the beam in their own? I'll show you just how unreasonable it is for men to criticize women for being inconstant and capricious. Their argument goes like this. First, they all assume that women are by nature weak. Then, having accused women of weakness, they presumably think themselves to be constant, or at least that women are not as constant as they are. Yet it's undeniable that they expect far greater constancy from women than they themselves can muster. Though they consider themselves to be so strong and to be made of such noble stuff, they're unable to stop themselves from falling prey to some awful vices and failings. Nor is this by any means always out of ignorance. Indeed, it's often down to deliberate bad intentions, because they're well aware that they're committing a sin. But they then excuse themselves, saying that to err is to be human. However, should a woman fall into error, usually thanks to a man's incessant scheming, lo and behold, they declare this to be due to women's innate weakness and inconstancy. Considering that they think women are so feeble, they should, rightly speaking, show greater tolerance of female frailty and not accuse women of dreadful sins that they consider to be only minor peccadilloes when they themselves are guilty of them. For there is no law, no written text, which says that they are allowed to sin more than women, or that their vices are any more excusable. None the less, they in fact give themselves such moral authority that, far from letting women get away with anything, they fall over themselves to impute to the female sex all manner of crimes and offences. Neither do they give women any credit for being strong and steadfast in the face of such awful criticisms. So, whatever the argument is, men have it both ways and always turn out to be in the tight. You yourself have discussed this at length in your Letter of the God of Love.

'You asked me earlier whether men are so upright and worthy that they are justified in accusing others of inconstancy. I would say that if you examine human history from antiquity up to the present day, taking evidence from books and from both what you have seen with your own eyes in the past and what you can still see all around you today, and looking at men not just from the lower or uneducated classes but also from the upper classes, you can judge for yourself what perfection, strength and constancy they've displayed! This is the case with the vast majority of men, though there are some, thank heavens, who are wise, strong and steadfast.

'If you want me to give you examples of male inconstancy from the recent and distant past, since men persist in attacking women for this failing as if their own hearts were never subject to instability or change, just look at the behaviour of the most powerful princes and the most eminent men, in whom these are more dangerous faults than in others. Not to mention how many emperors are guilty of these things! I ask you, was the mind of a woman ever as weak, fearful, pathetic and frivolous as that of the Emperor Claudius? He was so unstable that whatever he ordered one minute, he reversed the next. It was impossible to take him at his word and he agreed with anything anybody said. In a fit of mad cruelty, he had his wife killed, and then, that night, he asked why she wasn't coming to bed! To those of his friends whom he had beheaded, he sent word that they should come and play with him! He was so lacking in courage that he lived in a constant state of fear and was unable to trust anyone. What can I tell you? Every kind of moral and mental debility was to be found in this atrocious emperor. But why am I just talking about this particular one? Was he the only ruler to sit on the imperial throne who was prey to such weakness? Was the Emperor Tiberius any better? Wasn't he more guilty of inconstancy, changeability and immorality than any woman has ever been?'

48. About Nero

'Whilst we're on the subject of emperors, what about Nero? It was glaringly obvious just how unstable and weak he was. Initially he was very laudable and made an effort to please everyone. Soon, however, his lechery, cruelty and greed knew no bounds. The better to indulge his vices, he would often arm himself at night and go off with his partners in crime to seek out places of depravity and corruption, amusing himself by running round town gratifying his obscene desires. As a pretext for committing his foul deeds, Nero would bump into people in the street and, if they said anything, he would attack them and kill them. He broke into taverns and brothels and raped women, on one occasion narrowly escaping death at the hands of a man whose wife he had raped. He organized lewd bathing parties and feasts that lasted all night. He would order first one thing and then another, as his capricious fancies took him. Nero indulged in all sorts of carnal pleasures, excesses and perversions, and there were no limits to his arrogance and extravagance. He loved those who were wicked and persecuted those who were virtuous. He was complicit in the murder of his father and he later had his own mother killed. When she was dead, he ordered her body to be opened up so that he could see where he had been conceived. Seeing her like that, Nero declared that she had once been a truly beautiful woman. He killed Octavia, his first wife, who was a fine lady, and took a second one, whom he loved at first but then had her murdered as well. He also ordered the death of Claudia, who had been the wife of his predecessor, since she refused to marry him. Nero similarly had his stepson killed when he was not yet seven years old purely because it was said of the boy that, when he was at play, his behaviour was obviously that of the son of an emperor.

'Nero's teacher Seneca, the noble philosopher, was also put to death by the emperor's orders, for he was unable to contain his shame at what was going on before his very eyes. Nero poisoned his prefect by pretending to give him a cure for his toothache. Likewise, he gave poisoned food and drink to the noblest of his princes and to the most venerable and illustrious of his barons, who exercised a great deal of power. Not only did he murder his aunt and seize all her wealth, but he also destroyed all the most notable families of Rome and drove them into exile, killing all their children in the process. He trained a ferocious Egyptian man to eat human flesh so that he could feed him living victims to devour. What can I tell you? It would be impossible to relate all his appalling crimes or the full extent of his foul wickedness. To cap it all, he set Rome on fire and let it burn for six whole days and nights. Many people died in this terrible catastrophe, whilst he stood singing on his tower, watching the inferno rage through the city and taking enormous delight in the beauty of the flames. At his dinner table, he had Saints Peter and Paul beheaded, as well as many other martyrs. For fourteen years he continued in this fashion until the Romans could finally take no more and rebelled against him. In his despair, he took his own life.'

[...]

53. After Rectitude has finished talking about women who were steadfast, Christine asks her why it is that all these worthy ladies of the past didn't refute the men and books who slander the female sex. Rectitude gives her answer

Such were the stories that Rectitude told me on this subject. Lack of space prevents me from going into detail on all the other examples she gave me, such as that of Leaena, a Greek woman, who refused to denounce two men who were friends of hers, preferring to bite off her own tongue in front of the judge in order to show him that no matter how much he tortured her he had no hope of extracting by force the information he wanted from her. Rectitude also told me about some other women who were so strong willed that they chose to die from drinking poison rather than fail to uphold truth and decency. I then turned to her and said, 'My lady, you've clearly demonstrated to me just how consistent and steadfast women are, in addition to all their other virtues. Surely there's no man of whom it could be said that he was their equal in this respect? I'm therefore amazed that so many worthy women, especially those who were learned and educated enough to write fine books in elegant style, could have allowed men to come out with their slanders all this time without contradicting them, when they knew only too well how false these men's accusations were.'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear Christine, this is an easy problem to solve. You should realize from what I've already told you that the virtuous ladies I've discussed with you were each involved in different types of activity and didn't all work towards the same end. This task of constructing the city was reserved for you, not them. These women's works alone were enough to make people of sound judgement and keen intelligence appreciate the female sex fully without their having to write anything else. As for the fact that the men who attacked and criticized women haven't yet been challenged, let me tell you that there's a time and a place for everything in the eternal scheme of things. Just think how long God allowed heresies against His holy law to prosper, which meant that they were very hard to stamp out and would still be around today if they hadn't been disputed and crushed. There are many things which flourish without hindrance until the time comes to take issue with them and refute them.'

I, Christine, came back to her again, saying: 'My lady, you're quite right. Yet I'm convinced that there will be plenty of dissenting voices raised against this very text. They'll say that, though some women of the past or the present might be virtuous, this isn't the case with all of them, or even the vast majority.'

Rectitude answered, 'It's just not true to say that the vast majority aren't virtuous. This is clearly proven by what I've said to you before: experience tells us that anyone can see for themselves, on any day of the week, how pious and full of charity and goodness women are. Not to mention the fact that it isn't women who are responsible for all the endless crimes and atrocities that are committed in the world. It's hardly surprising if not every single one of them is virtuous. In the whole of Nineveh, which was a very large city with a huge population, there wasn't one good man to be found anywhere when Jonah the prophet was sent by God to destroy it if the people didn't repent of their sins. Nor was there a single decent man living in the city of Sodom, as became clear when Lot left the place to be consumed by fire sent down from the heavens. What's more, you shouldn't forget that, though Jesus Christ's company only comprised twelve men, there was still one who was evil. To think that men dare to say that all women should be virtuous or that those who aren't should be stoned! I would ask them to take a good look at themselves and then let he who is without sin cast the first stone. Moreover, to what kind of behaviour should they themselves aspire? I tell you, the day that all men attain perfection, women will follow their example.'

54. Christine asks Rectitude if it's true what certain men have said about how few women are faithful in love, and Rectitude gives her reply

Going on to a different subject, I, Christine, spoke up once again and said, 'My lady, let's put such topics to one side and move on to something else. Departing a little from the kind of things we've been talking about up until now, I'd like to ask you a few questions. I hope you won't mind discussing these matters that I'd like to raise with you: although the subject itself relates to the laws of nature, it does somewhat overstep the bounds of rational behaviour.'

Rectitude's answer was, 'My friend, say what you like. The pupil who puts questions to his teacher in the spirit of enquiry shouldn't be reprimanded for touching on any subject whatsoever.'

'My lady, there's a kind of natural attraction at work on earth which draws men to women and women to men. This isn't a social law but an instinct of the flesh: stimulated by carnal desire, it makes the two sexes love each other in a wild and ardent way. Neither sex has any idea what it is that causes them to fall for each other like this, but they succumb in droves to this type of emotion, which is known as passionate love. Yet men often say that, despite all the protestations of fidelity that a woman in love may make, she not only flits from one lover to another but is also extraordinarily unfeeling, devious and false. They assert that this fickleness in women comes from their lack of moral character. Of all the various authors who have made such criticisms of women, Ovid is particularly virulent in his book, the Art of Love. Having attacked women for their lack of steadfastness in love, Ovid and all the others then go on to claim that they have written their books about the deceitful ways and sinfulness of women for the common good of all: their aim is to ware men about women's wiles and to teach them how to avoid them, just as if women were snakes hidden in the grass. So, my dear lady, please tell me what the truth of the matter is.'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear Christine, as for what they say about women being underhanded, I'm not sure what more I can tell you. You yourself have tackled this issue at length, when you refuted Ovid, along with all the others, in your Letter of the God of Love and the Letters on the Romance of the Rose. However, getting back to what you said about these men's claims to be writing for the common good, I'll prove to you that this is definitely not the case. Here's why: you can't define something as being for the common good of a city, country or any other community of people, if it doesn't contribute to the universal good of all. Women as well as men must derive equal benefit from it. Something which is done with the aim of privileging only one section of the population is called a private or an individual good, not a common good. Moreover, something which is done for the good of some but to the detriment of others is not simply a private or an individual good. In fact, it constitutes a type of injury done to one party in order to benefit the other: it thus only profits the second party at the expense of the first. Such writers don't speak to women in order to teach them to beware the traps laid for them by men, even though it's undeniable that men very often deceive women by their false appearances and cunning ruses. Besides, its beyond doubt that women count as God's creatures and are human beings just as men are. They're not a different race or a strange breed, which might justify their being excluded from receiving moral teachings. I can thus only conclude that if these authors were really writing for the common good, they would warn women against the snares set by men as well as advising men to watch out for women.

'Let's leave these issues for now and go back to your earlier question. What I told you before about those examples of women whose devotion endured until the day they died obviously wasn't sufficient proof for you that, far from being as inconstant or as fickle in love as these writers maintain, the female sex is in fact extremely steadfast in matters of the heart

[...]

62. Christine addresses Rectitude who, in her reply, refutes the view of those who claim that women use their charms to attract men

I, Christine, then said, 'My lady, you were quite right before when you said that passionate love was like a perilous sea. From what I've seen, women with any sense should do everything they can to avoid it, for they only come to great harm. Yet, those women who want to look lovely by dressing elegantly come in for a lot of criticism, because it's said that they only do so in order to attract attention from men.'

Rectitude answered, 'My dear Christine, it's not my business to try and find excuses for those women who are too fussy and obsessive about their appearance, for this is no small failing in a person. Wearing clothes that aren't fitting to one's station in life is particularly reprehensible. However, whilst I've no intention of condoning such a vice, neither do I want anyone to think that they have the right to lay more blame than is strictly necessary on those who make themselves beautiful in this way. I can assure you that not all women who do this are interested in seducing men. Some people, not just women but also men, have a legitimate taste and natural bent for taking pleasure in pretty things and expensive, elaborate clothes, as well as in cleanliness and fine array. If it is in their nature to behave like this, it's very difficult for them to resist, though it would be greatly to their credit ff they did. Wasn't it written of Saint Bartholomew the Apostle, a man of high birth, that he spent his whole life draped in fringed robes of silk which were hemmed with precious stones, despite the fact that Our Lord preached poverty? Though such behaviour is usually rather pretentious and ostentatious, Saint Bartholomew can't be said to have committed any sin because it was in his nature to wear expensive clothes. Even so, some do say that it was for this reason that Our Lord was content for Bartholomew to be martyred by being flayed alive. My reason for telling you these things is to show you that it's wrong for any mortal creature to judge another's appearance; God alone has the right to judge us. I'll now give you some examples on this subject.'

[...]

64. Rectitude explains that some women are loved more for their virtue than others are for their attractiveness

'Even supposing that the reason women put such efforts into making themselves beautiful and seductive, elegant and alluring, were because they wanted to attract male attention, I'll prove to you that this does not necessarily mean that men who are decent and sensible are going to fall more quickly or more heavily for them. On the contrary, those men who value integrity are more readily attracted to women who are virtuous, honest and modest, and love them more deeply, even if they are less glamorous than flirts such as these. Now, some might retort that, since it's a bad thing to appeal to men in the first place, it would be better if those women who used their virtue and modesty to catch men's eyes didn't in fact possess such qualities at all. However, this argument is utterly worthless; one shouldn't refrain from cultivating things which are good and useful just because some idiots use them unwisely. Everybody should do their duty by acting well, no matter what happens.

'I'll now give you some examples which prove that many women have been loved for their uptight and moral behaviour. Most notably, I could tell you about various saints of paradise whom men lusted after specifically for their purity. This is also what happened to Lucretia, whose rape I recounted to you earlier. It was because of her exemplary virtue, not simply her beauty, that Tarquin fell for her. One night, her husband was at supper in the company of some other knights, one of whom was this Tarquin who subsequently raped her. Each of them started to talk about his wife, claiming that his was the most virtuous of them all. In order to find out whose wife was the worthiest of this accolade, they rode off to call on each of their houses in turn. Those wives whom they found busy at some honest task or other were held in the greatest esteem. Of all the women, Lucretia was deemed to be the one who was spending her time in the most commendable way. Like the highly respectable and sober woman she was, Lucretia wore a plain gown as she sat with the other ladies of her household busily working wool and conversing on moral subjects. The king's son, Tarquin, who had accompanied Lucretia's husband, was so impressed by her integrity, her simple and laudable conduct, as well as her modest beating, that he conceived a burning desire for her and began to hatch the wicked plan which he would later execute.'

[...]

66. Christine addresses Rectitude who, in her reply, refutes the opinion of those who claim that women are by nature mean

'I'm not sure what more to ask you, my lady, as all my questions have been answered. It seems to me that you've completely disproved the slanders which so many men have come out with against women. As far as I can see, it's even untrue what they so often say about avarice being the most prevalent of all the female vices.'

Rectitude replied, 'My dear friend, I can assure you that avarice is no more inherent in women than it is in men. Indeed, there would appear to be fewer avaricious women than men: as God knows and as you yourself can attest, the terrible evil that is so rampant in the world as a result of men's avarice is far greater than that which comes from women who possess this failing. However, as I pointed out to you before, the fool is all too ready to spot his neighbour's misdeed even though he is blind to his own great crimes.

'Just because women take pleasure in storing up cloth, thread, and all the other little items that are indispensable to a household, they earn themselves a reputation for being avaricious. Believe me, there are many, if not countless, women who, if they enjoyed great wealth, would not think twice about giving rewards and making generous gifts to those whom they thought would spend the money wisely. On the other hand, a woman who is poor is necessarily obliged to watch her pennies. In general, women are kept so short of money that they tend to hang on to the little they have because they know how hard it is to lay their hands on any more. Some people even go so far as to accuse women of being avaricious if they complain to their wayward husbands who are extravagant spendthrifts and beg them to be more careful with their money. Women like this know only too well how, thanks to the husband's foolish squandering, the whole household has to go without, and they and their poor children suffer as a result. This doesn't mean that such women are grasping or avaricious; on the contrary, it's a sign of their great prudence. Of course, I'm only referring to those wives who are discreet about admonishing their husbands. Otherwise this can cause great rows in marriage when the husband doesn't take too kindly to being criticized and ends up attacking his wife for something which is actually to her credit. As proof that this vice is not as common in women as some might say, just look at all the almsgiving that they eagerly perform. God knows how many prisoners, both in the past and still today, even those locked away in Saracen countries, have been comforted and helped out by women who were ready to give them money, not to mention how many poor people, impoverished gentle-folk and others they've also supported.'

I, Christine, then said, 'In fact, my lady, what you've just said reminds me of all the honourable ladies that I've seen making discreet displays of generosity, as far as their means allowed them. I know some of my female contemporaries take far greater delight in saying, "Here, take this" to someone who can put the money to good use than any miser ever did in grabbing some cash and hoarding it away in his coffers. I've no idea why men go around saying that women are avaricious. Although it's said that Alexander was famous for his generosity, I can tell you that I've seen little evidence for this!'

Rectitude burst out laughing and replied, 'My friend, the ladies of Rome were certainly not found wanting when the city was so heavily depleted by war that all the public funds to pay for troops were exhausted. The Romans were extremely hard pressed to find ways to raise money for the enormous army which they desperately needed. Out of their own great generosity, the ladies of Rome, including the widows, put all their jewellery and everything of value that they owned into a pile, which they then freely donated to the princes of the city. These ladies were very highly praised for their unselfish action. Their jewels were later returned to them, as was only right, for it was thanks to them that Rome's fortunes were restored.'

[...]

68. About the princesses and ladies of France

Once again I, Christine, interjected, 'My lady, now that you've reminded me of this woman of my own day and have started talking about the ladies of France, as well as those who have made their homes here, I would like you to tell me what you think of such women. Do you consider some of them to be worthy of inclusion in our city? Are they any less deserving of a place than foreign women?'

Rectitude replied, 'Certainly, Christine, I can assure you that there are many virtuous ladies among their number whom I'd be delighted to invite to become our citizens.

'First of all, we wouldn't refuse entry to the noble queen of France, Isabeau of Bavaria, who, by the grace of God, is now reigning over us. She has neither a shred of cruelty or greed in her body nor a single evil trait, for she is full of kindness and benevolence towards her subjects.

'No less worthy of praise is the young duchess of Berry, a wise, beautiful and gentle lady married to the Duke John, son of King John of France and brother of the late king, Charles the Wise. This honourable duchess conducts herself with such sobriety and discretion, even though she's still only a very young woman, that everybody commends her highly for her exemplary behaviour.

'What can I say about the duchess of Orleans, daughter of the late duke of Milan and wife of the Duke Louis, son of Charles the Wise, King of France? Could any lady be more prudent than she is? It's plain for all to see that she is not only steadfast and constant, but also very loving towards her husband and a fine example to her children. Moreover, she is astute in her affairs, fairminded with everyone, sober in her bearing and endowed with every possible virtue.

'And what of the duchess of Burgundy, wife of the Duke John, son of Philip, who was himself son of the late King John of France? Isn't she also a fine lady, loyal to her husband, kind-hearted and well-disposed towards others, morally impeccable, and with no failing whatsoever?

'The countess of Clermont, daughter of the duke of Berry by his first wife, who is married to Count John of Clermont, son and heir of the duke of Bourbon, is everything that a noble princess should be in terms of her deep affection for her husband and her excellent upbringing in every respect, not to mention her beauty, wisdom and goodness. Her virtues shine all the more brightly thanks to her noble conduct and fine bearing.

'Amongst these ladies, there is one of whom you're particularly fond and to whom you're indebted as much for her own good qualities as for the kindness and affection you have received from her: this is the noble duchess of Holland and countess of Hainault, daughter of the late Duke Philip of Burgundy and sister of the present duke. Shouldn't this lady take her place amongst the ranks of the very finest ladies for her faithfulness, prudence and circumspection in her affairs, as well as her selflessness and extreme devotion to God? In a word, she is goodness itself.

'Doesn't the duchess of Bourbon also deserve to be commemorated for posterity alongside these other illustrious princesses, given that she is such an honourable lady, worthy of praise in every respect?

'What can I tell you? It would take me for ever to list the good qualities of all these ladies!

'The countess of Saint-Poi, daughter of the duke of Bar and first cousin to the king of France, also merits a place amongst these fine ladies, for she is kind and beautiful, noble and virtuous.

'Likewise, another lady to whom you're devoted, Anne, daughter of the late count of La Marche and sister of the present duke, who is married to Louis of Bavaria, brother of the queen of France, would not disgrace this company of splendid ladies whose praises should be sung to the skies. Both God and the whole world are witness to her excellent qualities.

'Despite what the slanderers may say, there's a positively infinite number of countesses, baronesses, ladies, maidens, bourgeoises and women of every estate who are honourable and distinguished. God be praised for keeping them all in virtue, and may He inspire those who are less than perfect to mend their ways. You must have no doubts about this, for I can assure you that it's the absolute truth, no matter what those who defame women out of envy might say to the contrary.'

I, Christine, then replied, 'My lady, it certainly gives me great pleasure to hear you say this.'

She then turned to me and said, 'My dear friend, it seems to me that I've now completed my task in the construction of the City of Ladies. I've not only built all the lovely palaces and splendid houses and mansions for you, but also filled them almost to overflowing with a vast number of wonderful ladies from all different ranks of society. My sister Justice will now come forward to put the finishing touches to the city, and I will say no more.'

69. Christine addresses princesses and all other ladies

'Most excellent, upstanding and worthy princesses of France and other countries, as well as all you ladies, maidens, and women of every estate, you who have ever in the past loved, or do presently love, or who will in the future love virtuous and moral conduct: raise your heads and rejoice in your new city. With God's help, it is now nearly complete, being resplendent with buildings and almost entirely filled with inhabitants. Thanks be to God for having led me through this difficult labour of learning in my desire to build an honourable and permanent place for you to dwell inside the walls of this city which will last for all eternity. I have come this far in the hope of being able to finish this task with the help of Lady Justice, who has promised me that she won't rest until she and I have done all we can to complete the city and shut its gates. So, pray for me, my worthy ladies!'

End of the Second Part of the Book of the City of Ladies.

Part Ⅲ

1. The first chapter recounts how Justice brought the Queen of Heaven to live in the City of Ladies

Lady Justice came to me in all her glory and said, 'In my opinion, Christine, you have indeed done your very best to bring your task to fruition. With my sisters' help, you've made a fine job of building the City of Ladies. It's now time for me to add the finishing touches, as I promised you I would. I shall bring you a most noble queen, she who is blessed amongst all women, to dwell here with her fine company. She will govern and rule over the city and will fill it with the great host of ladies who belong to her court and household. I can see that the palaces and splendid mansions have now been decorated and made ready and that the streets are all covered with flowers to celebrate the arrival of both the queen and her retinue of most worthy and excellent ladies.

'So let all princesses, ladies and women of every rank come forth to receive, with honour and reverence, she who is not only their queen, but also reigns with supreme authority over all earthly powers, second only to her one begotten son whom she conceived of the Holy Spirit, and who is the son of God the Father. It's truly fitting that a gathering of the whole of womankind should beg this revered, noble and magnificent princess to deign to join their number and to live amongst them in their city here below. Nor will she despise them for their lowliness in comparison with her own greatness. There is no doubt that she, in her humility, which surpasses that of all other women, coupled with her goodness, which is greater than that even of the angels, will not refuse to live in the City of Ladies. She will reside in the highest palace of all, one that my sister Rectitude has already prepared for her, and which is entirely made up of glory and praise.

'Let every woman now come forward and say, with me, "We greet you, O Queen of Heaven, with an Ave Maria, the same greeting that the Angel of the Annunciation made to you and which gives you more pleasure than any other form of address. The whole of woman-kind now implores you to agree to live in their midst. Extend your grace and pity to them by acting as their protectress, shield and defender against all attacks from their enemies and the world at large. Let them drink deep from the fountain of virtues which flows from you and may they quench their thirst so fully that they learn to abhor all forms of vice and sin. Please come to us, O Celestial Queen, Temple of God, Cell and Cloister of the Holy Spirit, Dwelling-place of the Trinity, Joy of the Angels, Light and Guide of those who stray, and Hope of all True Believers. O my lady, who could dare even to think, let alone utter, the idea that women are vile, seeing how exalted you are! Even if the rest of womankind were evil, the light of your goodness shines out so brightly that it puts all wickedness into the shade. Since God decided to take a member of the female sex as His bride and to choose you, most excellent lady, because of your great worth, all men should not only desist from attacking women but should hold them in the highest esteem."'

The Virgin replied, 'Justice, my son's dearly beloved, I will gladly come to live amongst these women, who are my sisters and friends, and I will take my place at their side. This is because Reason, Rectitude, you Justice and even Nature, have all persuaded me to do so. Women serve, honour and praise me without end, thus I am now and ever shall be the head of the female sex. God Himself always wished this to be so and it was predestined and ordained by the Holy Trinity.'

Flanked by all the other women who fell to their knees and bowed their heads, Justice replied, 'My lady, may you be praised and honoured for all eternity. Save us, Our Lady, and intercede on our behalf with your son who refuses you nothing.'

[...]

3. About Saint Catherine

'The ladies whom we shall invite to from the company of the blessed Queen of Heaven, who is Empress and Princess of the City of Ladies, are blessed virgins and holy women. We shall thus prove that God loves the female sex by showing that He endowed women, just as He did men, with the strength and fortitude needed to suffer terrible martyrdoms in defence of His holy faith, despite the fact that these women were only tender, young creatures. The whole of womankind can benefit from hearing about the lives of ladies such as these, whose heads are crowned with glory, for the lessons which they impart are more edifying than any others. It is for this reason that they will be the most revered inhabitants of the city.

'The most eminent of these exemplary women is Saint Catherine, who was the daughter of King Costus of Alexandria. Though this worthy maiden was only eighteen years old when she inherited her father's lands, she conducted both her private life and her public affairs with great discernment. She was a Christian and had refused to marry, preferring to devote herself entirely to God. One day, the Emperor Maxentius came to Alexandria in order to perform an important sacrifice as part of a great ceremony in honour of the pagan gods. Catherine, who was at home in her palace, could hear the bellowing of the animals which were being prepared for the ritual slaughter as well as the loud clamour of music. She sent word to find out what was going on and was told that the emperor had already arrived at the temple to make the sacrifice. No sooner had she heard this than she went up to the emperor and began to speak to him most eloquently about the error of his ways. Being well versed in both theology and the sciences, Catherine used philosophical arguments to prove that there was only one God, the Creator of all things, and that He alone should be worshipped. When the Emperor Maxentius heard this beautiful and noble maiden speak with such extraordinary authority, he didn't know what to say but could only gaze deeply at her in amazement. He sent for the wisest men that could be found in the whole of the land of Egypt, a country which was famous for the brilliance of its philosophers, fifty of whom were eventually brought to his court. However, once they realized why they had been summoned, they were extremely unhappy, saying that it was foolish of the emperor to have gone to all the trouble of bringing them from so far away simply to argue against a girl.

'To keep my tale brief, when the day of the debate arrived, the blessed Catherine blinded them with so many arguments that they were all convinced by what she said and were unable to answer her questions. The emperor was very angered by this and made all sorts of threats to them, but to no avail. By the grace of God, every one of them was won over by the virgin's holy words and became converted to Christianity. In his rage, the emperor sentenced all the philosophers to be burnt to death. The saintly virgin comforted them during their martyrdom, assuring them that they would be received into everlasting glory and praying to God to keep them strong in their faith. It was thus thanks to her that they took their place among the ranks of the blessed martyrs. God revealed His miraculous workings through them, for the fire destroyed neither their bodies nor their clothes: even after they had perished in the flames, not a single hair on their heads had been singed and their faces looked as though they were still alive. The tyrant Maxentius, who was inflamed with desire for the beautiful, holy Catherine, began to pay court to her in an attempt to persuade her to do his bidding. However, when he saw that he was getting nowhere with her, his pleas turned to threats and then to torture. He inflicted a cruel beating on her before throwing her into prison, with the express order that she was to be placed in solitary confinement for twelve days, at the end of which time he hoped to have starved her into submission. Yet the angels of the Lord went to her and gave her succour. When the twelve days were up, she was brought before the emperor once more. Seeing that she was even healthier and lovelier than ever, he was convinced that someone must have been visiting her in secret. He therefore ordered all the prison guards to be tortured. However, Catherine took pity on them and swore to Maxentius that the only comfort she had received came from God Himself. At a loss as to how to inflict an even crueller torture on her than before, the emperor took his prefect's advice and had wheels made which were fitted with razorblades. These wheels ground against each other in such a way that anything caught between them was tom to shreds. The emperor had Catherine stripped and forced her to lie between the wheels, yet she never once left off worshipping God with her hands clasped in prayer. The angels came down and smashed up the wheels, killing all the torturers standing nearby in the process.

'When the emperor's wife learnt about all the miracles that God was performing on Catherine's behalf, she converted to Christianity and criticized her husband for his conduct. She went to visit the holy virgin in her cell and begged her to pray to God for her sake. Because of this, the emperor had his wife tortured and her breasts cut off, whereupon the virgin said to her, "Most noble queen, don't be afraid of these tortures, for today you shall be received into neverending joy." The tyrant ordered his wife to be beheaded, at which sight huge numbers of his subjects converted. He asked Catherine to become his wife but when he realized that she was turning a deaf ear to all his pleas, he finally condemned her to be decapitated as well. In her prayers, she invoked the grace of God for all those who would remember her martyrdom and who would call out to her for help in their time of suffering. A voice came down from heaven saying that her prayer had been granted. As her martyrdom came to an end, milk, rather than blood, poured forth from her body. The angels took her saintly corpse and carried it to be buried on Mount Sinai, which was twenty days' journey away from Alexandria. God performed many miracles at her tomb, which lack of space prevents me from recounting: suffice to say that, from this tomb, flowed an oil which cured many illnesses. The Lord then punished the Emperor Maxentius in the most horrible ways.'

[...]

17. About Saint Afra, a repentant prostitute who turned to God

'Afra was a prostitute who converted to Christianity. She was brought before the judge, who said to her, "As if it weren't enough for you to sin with your body, you go and commit an error of faith by worshipping a foreign god! Sacrifice to our gods and they will pardon you." Afra replied, "I will sacrifice to my Lord, Jesus Christ, who came down to earth for the sake of sinners. It says in his Gospel that a female sinner washed his feet with her tears and was forgiven. He didn't despise either prostitutes or sinful publicans, but rather allowed them to sit and eat with him." The judge retorted, "If you don't agree to make a sacrifice, you'll never see any of your clients again, nor will you receive any more presents from them." She answered, "I will never again accept a tainted gift. As for those that I did wrongfully receive, I've asked poor people to take them away and to pray for my soul." The judge sentenced Afra to be burnt to death for having refused to worship the gods. As she was being put into the fire, she glorified God, saying, "O Lord Almighty, Jesus Christ, you who call all sinners to repent, please accept my martyrdom in this hour of my passion and deliver me from the everlasting fire by means of this earthly fire that has been prepared for my mortal body." As the flames leapt up around her, she cried out, "Lord Jesus Christ, please receive me, a poor sinful woman martyred in your holy name, you who made a single sacrifice of yourself for the whole world. You were a righteous man nailed to a cross for the sake of all those who were immoral, a good man who died for the wicked, a blessed man for the damned, a gentle man for the cruel, an innocent and pure man for the corrupt. To you I offer the sacrifice of my body, you who live and reign with the Father and the Holy Ghost for ever and ever." Thus the blessed Afra ended her days, on whose behalf Our Lord later performed many miracles.'

18. Justice talks about several noble ladies who served the Apostles and other saints and gave them shelter

'My dear friend Christine, what more can I tell you on this subject? I could go on recounting an infinite number of such stories to you. Because you said before that you were so astonished at the amount of criticism that writers have heaped on women, I can assure you that no matter what you've read in the works of pagan authors, I think you'll find few negative comments on women in holy legends, in stories of Jesus Christ and his apostles, and even in lives of the saints. If you look at such texts, what you will find instead are countless instances of women who were endowed by God with extraordinary constancy and virtue. What great acts of kindness women have unstintingly and diligently performed for the servants of God! What exemplary charity and devotion they have shown them! So much hospitality and so many other kindnesses are surely not things to be taken lightly. Even if certain foolish men want to dismiss them as insignificant, it is undeniable that, according to our faith, such acts are the rungs on the ladders that lead to heaven.

'We can cite the example of Drusiana, a noble widow, who took Saint John the Evangelist into her home, where she served him and prepared his meals. Saint John returned from exile, much to the delight of the people of the city who came out to greet him, just as Drusiana's dead body was being lowered into the ground. She had died from grief at his lengthy absence. The neighbours said to him, "John, here lies Drusiana, the lady who was such a kind hostess to you and who died because you stayed away so long. She'll never serve you again." At this, Saint John exclaimed, "Rise up, Drusiana! Go home and get my food ready for me!", whereupon she was brought back from the dead.

'Likewise, we could mention the worthy Susanna, a noblewoman from the city of Limoges. She was the first person to give shelter to Saint Martial, who had been sent by Saint Peter to convert the French. This lady showed him every kindness.

'Likewise, the same can be said of Maximilla, that excellent lady who cut Saint Andrew down from the cross and buried him, thus putting her own life in danger.

'Likewise, the holy virgin Ephigenia was a devoted follower of Saint Matthew the Evangelist, whom she served. After his death, she built a church dedicated to him.

'Likewise, there was another fine lady whose pure love for Saint Paul the Apostle was so great that she went everywhere with him and served him most diligently.

'Likewise, at the time of the apostles, lived a noble queen by the name of Helen - not the mother of Constantine, but the queen of Adiabene - who went to Jerusalem. The city was desperately short of food because of a famine that was raging all around. When Helen learnt that Our Lord's saints, who had come to Jerusalem to preach to and convert the people, were dying of hunger, she bought enough food to keep them well supplied until the famine was over.

'Likewise, when they were taking out Saint Paul to be beheaded on Nero's orders, an honourable lady by the name of Plautilla, who used to look after the saint, came up to him shedding bitter tears. Saint Paul asked her for the veil that she was wearing on her head. As she handed it to him, some wicked people who were standing nearby mocked her, saying more fool her for giving up such a pretty object. Saint Paul used the veil to blindfold himself. Later, after his death, the angels gave the blood-stained veil back to her, which she then kept as a precious relic. Saint Paul appeared to her and said that, for having done him this service on earth, he would do her a service in heaven by praying for her soul. I could tell you about many other cases like this.

'Basilissa was a noble lady full of the virtue of charity. She was married to Saint Julian. On their wedding night, they made a pact that they would both preserve their virginity. It's impossible to measure the full extent of this virgin's saintliness or the vast numbers of women and maidens who were saved by her holy teachings and encouraged to lead a devout existence. In short, her exemplary charity won her such divine favour that Our Lord spoke to her in person when she was on her deathbed.

'My dear Christine, I'm not sure what more to say to you. I could tell you endless stories about women of all different social ranks, whether virgins, wives or widows, whose wonderful strength and constancy revealed how God was working through them. Let what I have said be enough. It seems to me that I have well and truly acquitted myself of my task, which was to complete the high turrets of your city and to fill it up with illustrious ladies, just as I promised. These final examples will act as the gates and portcullises of our city. Although I haven't cited the names of every single holy lady who has ever lived, or is still living, or is indeed yet to come, for it would be impossible for me to do so, they can all none the less take their place in this City of Ladies, about which we can say: "Gloriosa dicta sunt de te, civitas Dei."＊ I'm therefore handing it over to you now that it is finished and the gates are closed and locked, just as I said I would. Adieu, and may the peace of God remain with you always!'

19. The end of the book: Christine addresses all women

'Most honourable ladies, praise be to God: the construction of our city is finally at an end. All of you who love virtue, glory and a fine reputation can now be lodged in great splendour inside its walls, not just women of the past but also those of the present and the future, for this city has been founded and built to accommodate all deserving women. My dearest ladies, the human heart is naturally filled with joy when it sees that it has triumphed in a particular endeavour and has defeated its enemies. From this moment on, my ladies, you have every reason to rejoice - in a suitably devout and respectable manner - at seeing the completion of this new city. It will not only shelter you all, or rather those of you who have proved yourselves to be worthy, but will also defend and protect you against your attackers and assailants, provided you look after it well. For you can see that it is made of virtuous material which shines so brightly that you can gaze at your reflections in it, especially the lofty turrets that were built in this final part of the book, as well as the passages which are relevant to you in the other two parts. My beloved ladies, I beg you not to abuse this new legacy like those arrogant fools who swell up with pride when they see themselves prosper and their wealth increase. Rather, you should follow the example of your queen, the noble Virgin. On hearing that she was to receive the supreme honour of becoming the mother of the Son of God, her humility grew all the greater as she offered herself up to the Lord as His handmaiden. Thus, my ladies, since it is true that the more virtuous someone is, the more this makes them meek and mild, this city should make you conduct yourselves in a moral fashion and encourage you to be meritorious and forbearing.

'As for you ladies who are married, don't despair at being so downtrodden by your husbands, for it's not necessarily the best thing in the world to be free. This is proven by what the angel of the Lord said to Esdras: "Those who used their free will fell into sin, turned their backs on God and corrupted the righteous; for this reason they were destroyed." Those wives whose husbands are loving and kind, good-natured and wise, should praise the Lord. This is no small boon but one of the greatest blessings in the world that any woman can receive. Such wives should serve their husbands with devotion, and should love and cherish them with a faithful heart, as is their duty, living in peace with them and praying to God to keep them safe and sound. Those wives whose husbands are neither good nor bad should none the less thank the Lord that they're not any worse. They should make every effort to moderate their husbands' unruly behaviour and to strive for a peaceable existence with them according to their social condition. Those wives with husbands who are wayward, sinful and cruel should do their best to tolerate them. They should try to overcome their husbands' wickedness and lead them back to a more reasonable and respectable path, if they possibly can. Even if their husbands are so steeped in sin that all their efforts come to nothing, these women's souls will at least have benefited greatly from having shown such patience. Moreover, everyone will praise them for it and will be on their side.

'So, my ladies, be humble and long-suffering and the grace of God will be magnified in you. You will be covered in glory and be granted the kingdom of heaven. It was Saint Gregory who said that patience is the key to paradise and the way of Jesus Christ. You should all resolve to rid yourselves henceforth of silly and irrational ideas, petty jealousies, stubbornness, contemptuous talk or scandalous behaviour, all of which are things that twist the mind and make a person unstable. Besides, such ways are extremely unhealthy and unseemly in a woman.

'As for you girls who are young virginal maidens, be pure and modest, timid and steadfast, for the wicked have set their snares to catch you. Keep your gaze directed downwards, say few words, and be cautious in everything you do. Arm yourselves with strength and virtue against the deceitful ways of seducers and avoid their company.

'As for you widowed ladies, be respectable in the way you dress, speak and hold yourselves. Be devout in your words and deeds, prudent in the way you run your affairs, and patient, strong and resilient in the face of suffering and aggravation, for you will have sore need of such qualities. Be unassuming in your temperament, speech and bearing, and be charitable in your actions.

'In short, all you women, whether of high, middle or low social rank, should be especially alert and on your guard against those who seek to attack your honour and your virtue. My ladies, see how these men assail you on all sides and accuse you of every vice imaginable. Prove them all wrong by showing how principled you are and refute the criticisms they make of you by behaving morally. Act in such a way that you can say, like the Psalmist, "The evil done by the wicked will fall on their own heads." Drive back these treacherous liars who use nothing but tricks and honeyed words to steal from you that which you should keep safe above all else: your chastity and your glorious good name. O my ladies, fly, fly from the passionate love with which they try to tempt you! For God's sake, fly from it! No good can come to you of it. Rather, you can be sure that though it may seem to be superficially attractive, it can only be to your harm in the end. This is always the case, so don't think otherwise. My dear ladies, remember how these men accuse you of being weak, flighty and easily led, and yet still use the most convoluted, outlandish and bizarre methods they can think of to trap you, just as one would a wild animal. Fly, fly from them, my ladies! Have nothing to do with such men beneath whose smiling looks a lethal venom is concealed, one which will poison you to death. Instead, my most honoured ladies, may it please you to pursue virtue and shun vice, thus increasing in number the inhabitants of our city. Let your hearts rejoice in doing good. I, your servant, commend myself to you. I beg the Lord to shine His grace upon me and to allow me to carry on devoting my life to His holy service here on earth. May He pardon my great faults and grant me everlasting joy when I die, and may He do likewise unto you. Amen'

End of the Third and Final Part of the Book of the City of Ladies.

注释

＊　Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God.

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

说明
译者导读
第一部分　宗教大法官——选自《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》
第二部分　死屋手记（节选）
最初印象（1）
最初印象（2）
最初印象（3）
Note

'The Grand Inquisitor' from The Brothers Karamozov

Selections from The House of the Dead
First Impressions (1)
First Impressions (2)
First Impressions (3)
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

宗教大法官

（英汉双语）

［俄］陀思妥耶夫斯基　著

［英］大卫·麦克达夫　英译

袁松　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

宗教大法官：英汉双语／（俄罗斯）陀思妥耶夫斯基著；袁松译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3888-4

Ⅰ．①宗…　Ⅱ．①陀…　②袁…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物　②长篇小说—俄罗斯—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4:I

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2014）第002815号

（著作权合同登记：图字01-2014-2190号）

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
www.penguin.com

This selection first published in Penguin Books 2009

'The Grand Inquisitor' Translation copyright © David McDuff, 1993, 2003

All other material translation copyright © David McDuff, 1985, 2003

All rights reserved

出版发行／中国对外翻译出版有限公司

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出版策划／张高里

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规　　格／760×940毫米　1/32　　印　　张／7.75

版　　次／2014年4月第一版　　　印　　次／2014年4月第一次

ISBN 978-7-5001-3888-4　定价：18.50元

“企鹅”及相关标识是企鹅图书有限公司已经注册或尚未注册的商标。

未经允许，不得擅用。

中国对外翻译出版有限公司与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

说　明

《宗教大法官》是一首诗，是《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》中叙事的论据，它讲述了自由的概念。在前面的章节中，伊万对兄弟阿辽沙说：

“听着，阿辽沙，别笑，一年前我创作了一首诗。如果你愿意再花上十分钟，让我来给你讲讲怎么样？”

“你写了一首诗？”

“哦，不，不是我写的，”伊万笑着说，“我这辈子连两行打油诗都没写过。不，我只是臆想出这个故事，然后把它保存在记忆中。我是带着激情创造了它。你将是我的第一个读者，或者说，倾听者，”伊万说着，脸上带着讽刺的笑容。“我可以给你讲它说的是什么吗？”

“说吧，”阿辽沙想尽快脱身。

“这首诗名叫‘宗教大法官’，一个很荒谬的故事，但我想讲给你听。”

在《死屋手记》中，陀思妥耶夫斯基通过笔下虚构的人物——亚历山大·彼得罗维奇·戈雅契科夫——重现了他在西伯利亚监狱中的岁月。

译者导读

“我只担心一件事，我怕我配不上自己所受的苦难。”

苦难造就的陀思妥耶夫斯基走过了一条无比艰辛复杂的生活与创作之路。在农奴制崩溃、新旧变革交替前夜的19世纪的俄国，这位俄罗斯文学巨匠在政治上、精神上屡陷困顿，一生都在不断描写被侮辱与被欺凌的社会底层小人物，表现畸形社会里产生的精神分裂与多重人格的冲突，同时，也在不断地为这些受苦受难的人们寻求灵魂的荡涤。这就是呈现于陀氏作品中的宗教探索主题。正如有人评价他，“托尔斯泰代表了俄罗斯文学的广度，陀思妥耶夫斯基则代表了俄罗斯文学的深度。”

陀思妥耶夫斯基生于莫斯科一个虔诚的教徒之家，从小就感受到浓厚的宗教气氛，对他日后的创作产生了潜移默化的影响。中学时期，他大量阅读了茹科夫斯基和普希金的诗篇，并接触到一些英法作家的作品。1845年，陀思妥耶夫斯基完成了处女作《穷人》，迅速在文坛成名。第二年，他又发表了第二部重要作品——《双重人格》。

19世纪中后期的俄国社会到处都面临着死亡、破碎与分化，不同价值观念的碰撞产生无形的社会冲击波，使人们失去了心理平衡。陀思妥耶夫斯基以悲悯的目光审读这种畸形社会的产儿，展示了纠集于他们内心的相互对立的性格和思想。从小说《双重人格》开始，陀氏开始了对“双重人格”主题的探讨，直到在他的最后一部长篇小说《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》（1878）中达到成熟的顶峰。

《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》叙述了一家四个同父异母兄弟的故事，四兄弟分别代表了情、理、圣、魔人性中的四种可能；四个手足相生相克，象征着人性中与生俱来无法消弭的基本冲突。本书收录的《宗教大法官》就是这部陀氏晚年集大成之作中最具震撼力的一节。

伊万是老卡拉马佐夫的二儿子，具有典型的“双重人格”。他不信上帝，却主张以上帝的名义实行专制统治，而其理论的主要来源就是“宗教大法官”的故事。故事的发生地是16世纪西班牙的塞维利亚，那是欧洲中世纪宗教最黑暗的时代。耶稣在时隔15个世纪之后重新回到人世，显示神迹，救助民众，这时，年近九旬的宗教大法官出现了。他曾经是基督最坚定的信仰者，此时为了在人间建成天国，经常在艳丽夺目的火堆上，烧死异教徒。他的权威如此巨大，以至于只需伸一下手指，那些驯顺的民众便让开了道，让卫兵带走基督，投进大牢。

接着，宗教大法官来到基督面前，以90年人生中对人性的观察和思考，向重新现身的基督进行考问。最终，基督吻了老人，转身走了，走向塞维利亚那个黑灯瞎火的广场，永远消失了。

从表面上看，这个寓言和整部小说之间的关系不大，甚至可以成为一篇独立的小说。但实际上，这个寓言却是陀思妥耶夫斯基所有创作的同心圆之圆心，他一生著作中所反映的主题在这里都以最强有力的方式重现。可以说，《宗教大法官》是陀思妥耶夫斯基思想的核心，也是人类精神领域中的一座高峰。

陀思妥耶夫斯基在19世纪40年代下半期曾对空想社会主义发生了强烈的兴趣。1847年，他因参加彼得拉舍夫斯基革命小组的活动遭到逮捕，被判处死刑，在临刑前的最后几分钟里又被改判流放西伯利亚。10年后，他回到彼得堡，进入了一个新的创作时期，本书中收录的另一部作品《死屋手记》（1859）就是这一时期的代表作。西伯利亚的苦役从肉体上和精神上摧残了陀思妥耶夫斯基，这段苦难的日子就记录在《死屋手记》中。

在但丁的《神曲·地狱篇》中，地狱的入口写着“死屋”两个大字：“到这里来的，放弃一切希望吧。”《死屋手记》集中体现了陀氏小说宗教探索主题的另一个基调：忍受苦难。“这里只有灵魂，受折磨的、不幸的灵魂；他们唯一愿意做的事，就是自我表白和自我忏悔，从肉体和精神溃烂处拈出灵魂中的罪恶之虫，并一条条展示给我们看。”（弗吉尼亚·伍尔夫）在这部揭露暗无天日的监狱生活的最优秀作品中，真实记载了苦难下卑微而伟大的人性。

我愿用茨威格在《三大师》中对陀思妥耶夫斯基的评价结束本文，并为本书的读者开启精神之旅：“你用黑夜造成了白天，你用苦难造成了爱心，你从地狱里取出了神圣的赞美歌。受苦受难最深的人是所有人中最有知识的人。因此，了解你的人必定会为你祝福：这个对你认识最深的人看到，没有人像他那样证明了你，像他那样爱过你！”

第一部分　宗教大法官〔1〕

“在这里我们不能没有序言——一个文学序言，噢，该死的！”伊万笑了，“其实我算是什么作家？瞧，我诗里的故事发生在十六世纪——事实上，你从课堂上应该了解得很清楚——那时的文学作品中很流行将天国诸神搬到地上来。但丁就不必多说了。在法国，法庭职员以及修道院的修士们往往在举行有声有色的演出时，把圣母、天使、圣徒、耶稣，甚至上帝都搬上舞台。在当时，这种表演都很淳朴。在维克多·雨果的《巴黎圣母院》中，路易十一时代，为了庆祝法国王储的诞生，巴黎市政厅向民众免费演出了一场具有教化意义的戏剧，名叫Le bon jugement de la très sainte et gracieuse Vierge Marie〔2〕，剧中圣母玛利亚亲自出场宣布她的仁慈判决。在彼得大帝以前的古代，我们莫斯科也时常演出类似的戏剧，特别是从《旧约》中取材的戏。但是，除了戏剧之外，当时还有大量的小说和诗歌流传于世，在这些作品里，必要之时也会出现圣徒、天使和各路天神。早在鞑靼统治时期，我们修道院的修士们就已开始从事翻译、抄录甚至创作这类诗歌的工作。比如有一部修道院的诗篇（当然，是从希腊文翻译过来的），名叫《圣母的苦难之旅》，其中一些场景的描写，其想象之大胆丝毫不亚于但丁。圣母走访地狱，天使长米迦勒一路为她指引。她看到了罪人和他们所受的惩罚之苦。其中有一群在火湖上受刑的罪人极为引人注目：他们这些人一旦沉入湖底便再也浮不起来了，‘那些人已被上帝遗忘’——这是一句多么深刻而有力的话。圣母见状震惊并流泪了，她跪倒在上帝的宝座前，请求赦免所有在地狱里受刑的人，对她所见到的受刑者一律不加歧视地赦免。她与上帝之间的那段对话精彩绝伦。她再三恳求而不肯离开，上帝指着自己钉在十字架上的儿子的手脚，向她发问：‘我怎么能宽恕残害他的人呢？’她命令所有的圣徒、殉教者、天使以及天使长跟她一起跪倒，祈求上帝不加歧视地宽恕所有罪人。最后她向上帝求得每年从耶稣受难日到圣灵降临节暂停刑罚，于是地狱里的罪人们立刻向上帝感恩，他们呼喊道：‘主啊，你这样裁决是对的。’我的诗剧如果在那时问世，也会是那样类似的套路。在我的诗中，基督也出场了，不过他一句话也没说，只是走个过场。自从他许下必将荣归故国的誓言以来，已经过去了十五个世纪。十五个世纪以前，他的预言家就这样记录着：‘看哪，我必快来。’他自己还在世时也曾这样说道：‘但那日子，那时辰，没有人知道，子也不知道，惟有父知道。’但人类仍怀着当年的信仰和一如既往的深情等待着他。哦，这种信仰甚至更加深厚了，因为人们已有十五个世纪没能从上天那儿得到誓约。

没有来自上天的保证，

只好相信内心的声音。〔3〕

也只好相信自己的心声了！当然，那时也有许多奇迹发生。有些圣徒能够治愈沉疴；据圣者传记载，连天国女王也曾亲自找过他们。但是恶魔也不打盹，人类中间已经开始怀疑这些奇迹是否真实。正在那时，在北方德国出现了一个可怕的异端。‘像火炬一般燃烧’的巨星（暗指教会）‘落在水的源头上，于是水变苦了’。这些异端开始亵渎神明，否认奇迹。但是，真正坚定的信徒却对信仰更加热忱了。人类的眼泪仍旧向他迸涌，一如既往地等待着他，爱着他，寄希望于他，人们渴望为他受难甚至为他而死，像以前一样。人类怀着信仰和热情祷告了许多世纪：‘主啊，快来吧。’人类如此不懈地祈祷了许多世纪，最终他怀着巨大的慈悲之心，来到祈祷者的面前。在这之前，他也曾降临人间，并走访了一些贤哲、圣徒和尚未献身的殉教者，这在他们的列传中均有记载。在我们国家，丘特契夫深信自己的诗句道出了真理，他宣称：

天国之王背负着沉重的十字架，

身上穿着奴服，

曾经走遍了亲爱的大地，

到处给人们赐福。〔4〕

我可以向你保证，事实确实如此。因此他想在他那些受尽折磨、饱尝苦难、满身罪孽但却像孩子般爱着他的民众面前出现，哪怕只是出现片刻。我的诗剧发生在西班牙的塞维利亚，那是宗教裁判最可怕的时期，每天都有遍布各地的熊熊的火堆，为了上帝的荣光而燃烧。

在绚烂夺目的烈焰中，

烧死邪恶的异教徒。

哦，这并非他预言中，当世界末日时他将头顶天国的荣耀之光出现，霎那间‘如一道闪电自东向西划过长空’的景象。不，他只是想要对自己的民众进行哪怕是短暂的走访，而恰恰来到对异教徒进行焚烧的地方。怀着无比仁慈的怜悯之心，他仍以十五年前在人间走动了三年之久的凡人面貌，再次在人间行走。他降临到那个南方城市‘火热的广场’上，在那里，前一天正好有一次‘在绚烂夺目的烈焰中’的仪式，国王、朝臣、骑士、红衣主教和优雅的宫廷贵妇悉数到场，成千上万的塞维利亚民众也全来了，由担任宗教大法官的红衣主教主持仪式，ad majorem gloriam Dei〔5〕，一下就烧死了近百名异教徒。他不事声张地悄然出现，但是很奇怪，每个人都认出了他。这可能是我诗中最精彩的片段之一：描写为什么大家都一眼认出了他。人们被不可抗拒的力量驱使而争相奔向他，包围他，跟随他。他一言不发，面带无限怜悯而宁静的微笑在人们中间默默行走。他心中的爱如太阳般燃烧，他的眼中闪耀着光明、智慧和力量的光芒，射到民众身上，使他们心中涌起感恩回报的爱。他向民众伸出双手，为他们祝福，人们只要接触到他，甚至碰到他的衣袍，便会产生一种治愈的力量。人群中有一位自幼双目失明的老盲人，大声呼喊：‘主啊，治一治我的眼睛吧，让我也能看到你。’立刻，如同鳞片从老盲人的眼睛上脱落，老盲人竟能看见他了。人们泪流满面地亲吻着他走过的地面。孩子们扔鲜花为他开道，对他又唱歌又欢呼。人们都不断地念叨：‘是他啊，这一定是他本人，除了他还能有谁？’他在塞维利亚教堂的台阶上站住了，正在此时，有人哭着将一口敞着盖的白色童棺往教堂里抬去，棺内躺着一个七岁的小女孩，是本城一位显赫贵族的独生女。女孩身上铺满鲜花，人群向痛苦的母亲喊道：‘他能让你的孩子复活！’出来迎柩的神父困惑不解地看着，皱起了眉头。此时女孩的母亲发出一声响亮的哀嚎，扑倒在那人的脚下，向他伸出双手哀求：‘如果真的是你，请让我的孩子复活吧！’抬棺的队列停住了，棺材被放到教堂台阶上他的脚边。他充满怜悯地看着，嘴唇轻声说出：‘大利大古米。’意思是：‘起来吧，小姑娘。’那小女孩在棺材里坐了起来，睁大眼睛微笑着、惊诧地四处张望。她手里捧着一束白玫瑰，那是她躺在棺材里时人们放在她手里的。人们骚动了，叫声、哭声不绝于耳，正当此时，担任宗教大法官的红衣主教本人恰好经过教堂外的广场。他已是一位年近九旬的老人，高大挺拔，干瘪的脸上镶嵌着一双凹陷的眼睛，但仍炯炯有神。他并没有穿昨天那套烧死罗马教会的敌人时在民众面前所穿的光鲜的主教红袍——不，此刻他穿的只是粗糙的旧教士服。他身后不远的地方跟着脸色阴沉的助手、奴仆和‘神圣’的护卫。他在人群前站住，从远处观察。他将一切都看在眼里，看见棺材被放在那人脚下，看见女孩死而复生，他的脸上罩上了阴影。他蹙着两道发白的浓眉，目露凶光。他伸出手指，命令护卫将那人逮捕。看，他的权力是那么大，人们是如此习惯于对他战战兢兢、唯命是从，所以人群立刻在护卫面前闪开，而护卫则在一片死寂的沉默中抓住那人，并将他带走。霎时间，人群齐齐匍匐在地，朝宗教大法官磕头，他默默地为民众祝福，然后走了过去。护卫将抓获的那人押进宗教法庭的古老建筑，关在一间狭窄阴暗的拱顶监狱里。白天过去了，黑暗、炎热而‘令人透不过气来’的塞维利亚夜晚开始了。空气中弥漫着‘柠檬和月季的芳香’。在一片漆黑中，监狱的铁门突然打开，宗教大法官手执一盏灯独自一人慢慢地走进监狱，铁门立刻在他身后锁上了。他在入口处驻留了一两分钟，端详着囚徒的脸庞，最后他快步走向那人，把灯放在桌上，对他说：

“‘真是你？真是你么？’还没等到回答，他又很快地接着说：‘不，别回答。无论如何，你又能说些什么呢？我完全知道你要说些什么，你也没有权力对你以前说过的话再作什么补充。你为什么到这里来妨碍我们？你是来妨碍我们的，你自己也知道。但你知道明天会发生什么事吗？我不知道你是谁，我也不想知道你是不是那人，还是仅仅形似那人。但是明天我将作出裁决，把你作为最邪恶的异教徒在火堆上烧死，那些今天亲吻你脚的民众，明天只要我一挥手，就会争先恐后地往烧你的火堆上扒煤，这你可知道？是的，你也许知道这个。’他在深思中加了一句，眼光紧紧盯着他的囚徒。”

“我不太明白，伊万，这是什么意思？”一直默默听着的阿辽沙微笑着说，“这是漫无边际的幻想，还是老人弄错了，发生了不可思议的quiproquo？〔6〕”

“就算是后者吧。”伊万笑了，“既然你已经被当代现实主义败坏了趣味，而不能忍受一点幻想的东西，那么你就当它是quiproquo吧，这话也对。”他又笑了笑，“老人快九十岁了，他早就可能因死守一套顽固观念而变得神经错乱。何况，那囚徒的外貌也可能把他吓呆了。最后，这也有可能是一位九旬老人临死前的幻觉，何况昨天烧死近百名异教徒的那一把火又让他分外狂热。但不论是quiproquo还是无边的幻想，对我们来说不都是一样的么？关键在于老人想要表达自己的思想，最后他终于把他九十年沉寂于心的想法大声说了出来。”

“那个囚徒一句话也没说？只是看着他，一言不发？”

“不管怎么说，反正只能如此了。”伊万又笑了起来，“老人已经向他指出，他没有权力对自己以前说过的话再作什么补充了。至少按我的意见看来，这正是罗马天主教会最基本的特点。意思是：‘既然你把一切都交给了教皇，那么如今一切都在教皇手里了，现在你根本不必来，至少暂时不该来碍事。’他们不但这样说，而且还这样写，至少耶稣会教士是这样的。我在他们的神学作品中就读到过类似的思想。‘你有没有权力向我们透露你来自的那个世界的秘密，哪怕是一个？’我诗剧中的老人问他，随后又自己代替他回答：‘不，你没有权力，你不得对自己以前说过的话再作什么补充，也不得剥夺人们的自由，当你还在世上时曾经那么坚决地捍卫这种自由。你透露的任何新消息都将侵犯人们所信仰的自由，因为这个消息会被视为奇迹，而他们的信仰自由在你看来是至关重要的，至少一千五百年前你就这么认为。当初不是你经常说“我想要让你们变得自由”的么？现在你终于看到了这些“自由”的人了。’老人突然意味深长地一笑，‘是的，我们曾经为此付出了极高的代价’，他严肃地看着囚徒，继续说，‘但我们最终以你的名义完成了这件事。十五世纪以来，我们一直为自由而奋斗，现在都彻底结束了，而且结束得很好，你不相信这事儿解决得很好吗？你温和地看着我，甚至不觉得我令人愤慨？但是你知道现在，正是现在，这些人比以往任何时候更加确信自己是完全自由的，而事实上他们把自己的自由交给我们，恭顺地放到我们脚边。但这是我们努力的结果，不知道这是你所渴望的自由么？’”

“我又不明白了，”阿辽沙打断道，“他是在讽刺和嘲笑吗？”

“一点也不。他认为这是他和他的人的功劳，他们最终征服了自由，而且他们这么做是为了使人们幸福。‘因为直到现在（当然，他指的是有宗教法庭的时代），才第一次有可能设想人们的幸福。人生而为反叛者，反叛者也会幸福吗？有人已经警告过你了，’他对囚徒说，‘你收到很多警告和指示，但你从不肯遵从，你已经拒绝了能使人们获得幸福的唯一途径，但幸运的是，你在离开时将这事儿交给了我们。你作出承诺，你给了我们捆绑和释放的权力，所以你现在别想把这个权力再夺走。你为什么跑来妨碍我们呢？’”

“‘你收到很多警告和指示’这句话是什么意思？”阿辽沙问。

“这正是老人想要表达的关键所在——”

“‘一个可怕、聪明的精灵，一个自我毁灭、无形的精灵。’老人继续说道，‘这个伟大的精灵曾在旷野中跟你对话，而且圣经告诉我们，“试探”你，是这样吗？〔7〕再没有什么比他在三个问题中对你所揭示的一切更真实的了。他曾经通过三个问题给你启示，但是你拒绝了，在圣经中这被称为“试探”。但如果说这个世上什么时候曾出现过真正的振聋发聩的奇迹的话，那么恰恰是在三种试探出现的这一天。奇迹就在于这三个问题的提出。如果这样设想（仅仅是为了试验或举例），由那可怕的精灵提出的这三个问题已经从圣经中消失得无影无踪了，必须对它们进行重构，重新想象和编排出来，以便重新载入圣经，为此召集了世间所有的先贤——统治者、大祭司、学者、哲学家、诗人，授予他们重构的任务：重新编排三个问题，这三个问题不但要与事件的规模相称，而且还要能用人类语言中的三句话来表述世界和人类的整个未来历史——那么你认为聚集了世间所有先贤的智慧，能否重构出在力量和深度方面与那位伟大又聪明的精灵在旷野中对你所说的三个问题相提并论的东西？单就这三个问题来说，单就这些问题提出的奇迹而言，便可明白我们看到的并非一般凡人的智慧，而是永恒的、绝对的智慧。因为在这三个问题中，仿佛归纳并预言了人类未来的全部历史，通过三个形象囊括了人类天性中一切悬而未决的历史性矛盾。这在当时还不是很明显，因为未来是未知，但现在经过十五个世纪，我们可以看到这三个问题是如此具有先见之明，所有一切都被预言中了，并且应验了，因此对这三个问题的增添和删减都是不必要的。’”

“你自己来判断究竟谁是对的：是你，还是当时问你问题的人？回想一下第一个问题，虽然不是原话，但大意是这样的：‘你想走进世界，但两手空空，只带着一项自由的承诺，人们由于简单无知和与生俱来的恶劣，对此根本无法理解，并且满心畏惧——因为对于人类和人类社会来说，没有什么比自由更难以忍受的了！你看到这个赤裸、炎热的沙漠上的石头了么？你只要把这些石头变成面包，人类就会像感恩而驯服的羊群跟着你跑，尽管一直胆战心惊，因为害怕你会把手收回，而他们的面包就会因此消失。’但是你不想剥夺人类的自由，因此拒绝了。因为你想，如果驯服是用面包换来的，这算得上是什么自由？你反驳说，人类不能单靠面包而活着。但你可知道，大地精灵恰恰会为了这点世间的面包而反抗你，与你战斗，并且打败你，而大家都会跟着他跑，并且高呼：‘谁能和这野兽相比，他从天上为我们带来了火！’你可知道，再过几个世纪，人类将会通过先贤和学者之口宣告，世间根本没有什么犯罪，也就没有什么罪恶，只有饥饿的人。‘衣食足而知廉耻’——他们将举起这样的旗帜来反对你，摧毁你的圣殿。在你圣殿的废墟上，将会矗立起一座新的大厦，再次筑造起可怕的巴别塔，尽管这座也跟上一座一样不会完工。但即便如此，你本来可以避免建造这座新塔，从而使人们的痛苦缩短一千年——因为他们为这座塔忍受了千年的痛苦以后，最终会走到我们这里来。那时，他们会再找到隐匿在地下墓穴里的我们（因为我们又将受到迫害和折磨），并向我们号叫：‘给我们食物吧，因为那个许诺从天上给我们带来火的人，并没有给我们火。’然后将由我们来完成这座塔的建造，因为谁给他们食物，谁才能把塔修完。而只有我们才能给他们食物，以你的名义，或者假装以你的名义。哎，他们若是没有我们，是永远永远没法喂饱自己的！任何科学都不会给他们带来食物，只要他们还是自由的，最后他们都还会把自由放到我们的脚边，对我们说：‘如果你愿意，可以奴役我们，但请给我们食物。’他们终究自己会明白，要使每个人都能同时享受充分的自由和充足的食物是不可能的，因为他们永远不懂得如何分配。他们也将深信自己永远不可能得到自由，因为他们软弱、渺小、堕落并且叛逆成性。你答应给他们天上的面包，但是我再说一遍，在永远道德败坏、举止不端的软弱的人类眼里，那怎能和地上的面包相比？即使为了天上的面包，成千上万的人跟着你走，那么几百万、几千万还没有强大到能够为了天上的面包而舍弃地上面包的人又将如何呢？又或者你只看重那几万伟人和强者，而其他几百万多如沙海的渺小众生，那些虽然软弱却爱着你的弱者就该成为伟人和强者的陪衬么？不，我们也珍视弱者。他们堕落又叛逆，但最终也会变得驯服。他们会对我们感到惊叹，视我们为神，因为我们作为他们的领袖，居然同意忍受他们所惧怕的自由，并且统治他们——他们最后会发现作为自由的人是多么恐怖！但是我们会告诉他们，我们对你是顺从的，我们对他们的统治也是以你的名义进行的。我们要继续欺骗他们，因为我们不准你再走近。这种欺骗将是我们痛苦的缘由，因为我们将被迫不断撒谎。这就是旷野中第一个问题的用意，你用高于一切的自由为名拒绝了这个问题。然而这个问题却包括了世界上最大的秘密。如果你接受了面包，你就可以解决每一个人和全体人类普遍的、永恒的烦恼，那就是‘该崇拜谁’的问题。人一旦得到自由，他最为关心和烦恼的问题莫过于找到一个可以崇拜的人。但人们寻找的崇拜对象必须是无可辩驳的，最好是人人都会立刻同意对他加以崇拜的。因为对这些悲惨的人类而言，最当务之急的不仅是找到可以崇拜的人，而且是找到一个可以共同信仰和崇拜的对象，必须是每一个人都信仰、都崇拜的事物。正是这种共同崇拜的需要，给每一个人乃至全体人类带来了亘古以来的痛苦。为了达到一致的崇拜，他们自相残杀。他们创造了各自的上帝，并相互挑战：‘扔掉你们的上帝来信仰我们的吧，不然你和你们的上帝都得死！’所以直到世界末日，上帝才可能消失：因为无论发生什么，人们同样还是会朝着偶像膜拜的。你不可能不知道人类天性的这个根本秘密，但你拒绝了交给你那面绝对地、能够无可辩驳地使每一个人为之崇拜的旗帜——那是一面地上面包的旗帜，你却以自由和天上的面包的名义拒绝了。看看你接着都做了些什么吧。而且又是以自由的名义！我告诉过你，人类最当务之急的事情莫过于找到一个对象，以便把这些可怜人与生俱来的自由赶紧交付给他。但只有能让人们良心得到安宁的人才能掌握人们的自由。随着面包的提供，你将得到一面无可辩驳的旗帜：只要给予面包，人们就会崇拜你，因为没有什么比面包更无可辩驳的了，但与此同时，如果有人能够超越你而使人们的良心得到安宁——那么，他们便会扔掉你的面包，去追随能够安抚他良心的人。人类存在的秘密不仅在于活着，更在于为什么而活。没有一个为什么而活的坚定信念的人，是不愿意活下去的，宁可自杀也不愿留在世上，哪怕他的周围尽是面包。话是这么说，但结果怎样呢？你不但没有掌握人们的自由，反而更扩大了他们的自由。难道你忘记了安宁甚至死亡对他们来说，比能够自由分辨善恶更可贵么？没有什么比良知的自由更为诱人的了，但同时也没有什么比这更折磨人了。你不去提供能使人们良心彻底得到安宁的坚实基础，相反，你采取的是不寻常、神秘而不确定的做法，总是让人们力所不能及，因此显得你好像根本不爱他们一样——而这是谁呢？一个特意前来为他们牺牲自己生命的人！你不但没有掌握人们的自由，反而扩大了他们的自由，使人们的精神世界永远经受自由的折磨。你希望人们能够自由地爱，使他们能够因被你吸引、被你诱惑而选择自由地跟随你。人们必须以自由的心灵，取代古老而严苛的法律，来自行判断什么是善、什么是恶，你的形象仅仅是在前方指引他们——但难道你不曾想到，一旦自由选择成为人们可怕的负担时，他最终也会抛弃你的形象和你的真理，甚至还会提出质疑么？他们会高呼真理并不在你这里，因为你给他们留下如此之多的烦心事和难以解决的问题，再没有什么比你的做法更让他们惶恐和痛苦了。因此，是你为摧毁自己的王国埋下了根基，这事儿不能苛责别人。然而，对你提供的究竟是什么呢？有三种力量，地球上仅有的三种力量，能够彻底征服和俘虏那些软弱叛变者的良心，使他们得到幸福。这三种力量是：奇迹、神秘和权威。你对这三种力量一概加以拒绝，并以身作则这样做了。当聪明、可怕的精灵把你放在殿顶上，对你说：‘假如你想知道你是不是上帝的儿子，可以从这里跳下去，因为圣经上说，天使会用手托着你，带着你飞，免得你掉到地上摔死——那时你将知道你是不是上帝的儿子，同时你也将证明，你对你父亲的信仰是多么的坚定。’但是你听完以后拒绝了这个建议，没有跳下去。当然，你这个举动是带着骄傲和庄严的，像上帝一样，但人们——这个意志薄弱的叛逆种族——他们是上帝吗？哪天你明白，只要踏出一步，纵身往下一跳，那你就是在考验上帝，你就丧失了对上帝的全部信仰，并且会在你前来拯救的大地上摔得粉身碎骨，而引诱你的那个聪明的精灵便会欣喜不已。但是，我再说一遍，像你这样的人多么？难道你真的设想过——哪怕有那么一瞬间想过——人们会有如此强大的力量去拒绝这个试探？人类的天性难道真的能够拒绝奇迹，在生命的可怕时刻，在面对触及内心最根本的、最可怕而折磨人的精神问题时，仍能只凭良心而作自由的选择么？你知道你的丰功伟绩将记载在圣经里，流传千古，播撒四海。你希望人们跟随着你，无需奇迹也能与上帝同在。然而你不知道，人一旦否定了奇迹，也就否定了上帝，因为人寻找的与其说是上帝，不如说是奇迹。既然人没有奇迹便活不下去，他就会为自己创造新的奇迹，去崇拜巫医的神术、女巫的魔法，尽管他当过一百次反叛者、异教徒和无神论者。当人们对你讥笑和嘲弄，对你高喊：‘你从十字架上下来，我们就相信那是你’时，你没有从十字架上下来。〔8〕你没有下来是因为你不愿通过奇迹来奴役人们，你渴望的是自由的信仰，而不是凭仗奇迹的信仰。你渴望自由的爱，而不是奴隶面对彻底把他镇住的权威时那种谄媚的狂喜。但这里你又把人们估计得过高了，因为他们虽然生而叛逆，但依然是奴隶。看看你周围，自己想想，如今过了十五个世纪，你再看看他们：你把哪一个人提高到了与你相当的位置？我敢起誓，人们生来就比你想象的要软弱一些、低贱一些。他们能够胜任你所做的事吗？你这样尊重他们，却表现得对他们不再怜悯一样，因为你对他们要求太高了——而你是谁呢？一个爱他们胜过于爱自己的人！假如你少尊敬他们一些，便会少要求他们一些，那反倒更接近爱，因为他们的负担轻了。他们是软弱而卑劣的。现在他们处处对抗你的权威，并以反叛为荣，你要怎么办呢？这是儿童和学生的骄傲。这就等于是孩子们在课堂上反抗老师，把老师轰走。但孩子们的狂欢终将结束，他们也将为此付出很高的代价。他们会捣毁宫殿，血洗大地。但最后这些愚昧的学生会发现，即使他们是反抗者，也只是软弱无力、难以坚持的反叛者。他们终将流着愚蠢的眼泪承认，把他们缔造成反叛者的造物主，无疑是在取笑他们。他们在绝望中说出这句话，而这种话又是亵渎上帝的，这将使他们变得更加不幸，因为人类的天性不能容忍亵渎神灵，到后来必定会对此进行报复。因此在你为人们的自由而历经折磨之后，烦躁、困惑和不幸成为了他们如今的命运。你伟大的先知在一个寓言异象中说，他看见了第一次复活的全体参加者，每个支派各有一万两千人。但如果人数如此之多，他们很可能不是人类，而是神。他们背负着你的十字架，他们数十年来在荒芜的旷野中忍饥挨饿，靠着草根和蝗虫充饥——你确实可以指着这些拥有自由和自由之爱的孩子们，这些为了你的名义而做出自由而悲壮的牺牲的孩子们而感到自豪。但要记住，他们只有几千人，而且全是神，那么剩下的呢？其他的弱者忍受不了强者所受的苦，这有什么错？那些软弱的灵魂无法容纳如此可怕的禀赋，这又有什么错？难道说，你真的是只来到少数选民那里，只为了少数选民而来的么？如果真是这样，那么这就是我们无法了解的秘密。既然是秘密，我们也有权利宣扬这个秘密，教导他们说，重要的不是他们随心作出的自由抉择，也不是爱，而是这个他们必须盲目遵从甚至违背良心去服从的秘密。我们这样做了。我们纠正了你的所作所为，把它建立在奇迹、神秘和权威之上。人们很高兴他们曾像羊群一样聚集在一起，而最后那个曾让他们经受如此之多折磨的可怕的禀赋，也被从心里解除了。你说我们这样教、这样做，不是很正确吗？当我们如此温和地承认人类的软弱无能，满怀爱心地减轻他们的负担，容忍他们的软弱天性甚至是我们允许之下的一些罪恶，我们难道不是爱他们的吗？你现在为什么来妨碍我们？你为什么用一双温顺的眼睛如此温和而真诚地注视着我。你为什么不生气？我不想要你的爱，因为我自己也不爱你。所以我有什么可隐瞒的呢？你以为我不知道自己跟谁讲话吗？我对你所说的一切，你已经很熟悉了，这一点我可以从你眼里看出来。我能把我们的秘密瞒住你么？或许你只是想从我的口中听到这个秘密罢了。那么你听着：我们拥护的不是你，而是他，这就是我们的秘密。我们早就不拥护你而拥护他，已经有八个世纪了。整整八个世纪以前，我们从他那里接受了被你愤然拒绝的东西，接受了他把世间天国指给你看时向你呈现的最后一份礼物：我们从他那里接受了罗马和凯撒的剑，然后宣布我们是地上唯一的王，虽然迄今为止我们还未能完成这项事业。但这该怪谁呢？哦，直到现在这项事业才刚开始，但毕竟已经开始了。要等这项事业大功告成还需要很长时间，这个世界还要承受很多的苦难，但我们定能达成目标，成为凯撒，那时我们将会考虑全世界人的幸福。那时你本可以接受凯撒的剑。你为什么拒绝这最后的礼物？如果你接纳了伟大精灵的第三个忠告，那么就可以提供人类所寻求的一切了，即：向谁崇拜？把良心交给谁？怎样使人类联合成一个无可争辩、和睦共处的蚁穴？因为要求全世界联合起来是人类第三个、也是最后一个烦恼的问题。整个人类永远都渴望着把自己组成一个世界性的组织。很多伟大的民族具有伟大的历史，但这些民族的发展水平越高，他们就越不幸福，因为这样他们对于全人类组成世界性整体的渴求就比别的民族更加强烈。伟大的征服者，如帖木儿和成吉思汗，像龙卷风一样席卷大地，力图征服天下，但他们也表现出——尽管是不自觉的反映——全人类组成一个世界性整体的伟大需求。如果你接受了世界和凯撒的紫袍，原本是可以建立一个全世界的王国，给予人们全世界的和平。因为谁掌握了人们的良心，谁给予他们面包，谁就能统治他们。我们接受了凯撒的剑，而一旦接受了剑就要把你拒绝，而跟随他走了。噢，自由思想和他们的科学，以及食人现象，还将横行若干世纪，因为他们在没有我们参与的情况下就开始建造巴别塔，结果一定是以食人告终。但那时野兽会爬到我们跟前，舔我们的脚，用眼中迸出的血泪溅湿我们的脚。我们将坐在野兽身上，举杯庆祝，酒杯上刻着两个字：神秘。只有那时，人类才会得到安宁和幸福的王国。你为你的选民而骄傲，但你也只有选民，而我们却能够给所有的人带来平静。更何况，这些选民中的许多人，以及原本可以成为选民的许多强者，最后都因为等你等得疲倦不已，而转移或将转移他们的力量和热情到别的领域，并举起他们自由的旗帜来反抗你。但这面旗帜是你自己举起来的。在我们这里，大家将安享幸福，不再像在你的自由王国中到处可见的那样发生反叛或者彼此残杀。噢，我们将使他们相信，他们只有把自由交给我们，并服从于我们，他们才能成为自由的人。究竟我们是正确的还是在说谎，这又有什么关系？他们自己会相信我们是正确的，因为他们会记得，你的自由把他们领向多么可怕的被奴役和惶惑的境地。自由，自由的思想和科学把他们引进令人迷惑的迷宫，使他们面对那么多的奇迹和变幻莫测的神秘，他们当中一部分桀骜不羁而凶猛的人，将自己毁灭自己；另一部分桀骜不羁而软弱的人，将残杀其他人；而所剩下的一部分软弱而不幸的人，将爬到我们脚边，向我们哭诉：‘是的，你们是对的，只有你们掌握了他的秘密，我们要回到你们这里，把我们从自己的手中解救出来。’他们从我们手中接过面包时，将清楚地看到，我们是从他们手中得来的面包，又拿来分给他们，什么奇迹也没有发生。他们将看到我们并没有将石头变成面包，但事实上他们不是为了面包，而是为了能从我们手中获得面包而欣喜，因为他们深深记得，以前没有我们时，他们挣来的面包一到手里就变成了石头。而当他们一回到我们这里时，石头在他们手中却变回了面包。这一点他们是体会太深了，太深了！只要人们还不了解这点，他们便不会得到幸福。你说，造成他们不懂这个道理的罪魁祸首是谁？是谁搅散了羊群，把他们赶上谁也不熟悉的路？但羊群会再一次聚合，再一次变得驯服而且将永远驯服。那时我们将给他们以安静、温顺的幸福，那是弱者的幸福，因为他们天生便是弱者。我们最终将说服他们不要骄傲，因为你把他们抬高了，使他们变得骄傲起来；我们还将向他们证明，他们是软弱的，他们只是值得可怜的孩子，但那种孩童般的幸福要比其他一切幸福更甜蜜。他们会变得满心恐惧，看着我们，害怕地紧偎在我们身边，就像雏鸡紧挨着母鸡一样。他们会对我们感到惊讶、恐惧，并为我们是如此强大、聪明，能够制服数以亿计骚动的羊群而感到自豪。他们对我们的震怒会吓得颤抖，他们的思想会变得畏缩，他们的眼睛会像孩子和女人那样轻易落泪，但只要我们轻轻一挥手，他们同样也会轻易地变得愉悦和欢乐，像孩子似的嬉笑唱歌。是的，我们应当让他们工作，而在他们工作的业余时间，我们应当把他们的生活安排得像小孩游戏一样，有儿歌，有合唱，有天真烂漫的舞蹈。我们甚至也允许他们犯罪，他们是软弱无力的，如果我们允许他们犯罪，他们就会像小孩子般爱我们。我们将告诉他们，每一桩犯罪都会被赎清，只要经过我们的准许；我们允许他们犯罪是因为我们爱他们，既然如此，因为这些犯罪而带来的惩罚就由我们来承担吧。一旦惩罚由我们来承担，他们就将崇拜我们，把我们当成在上帝面前替他们受过的恩人。他们将在我们面前没有秘密。我们可以允许或者禁止他们与妻子和情妇同房，生或者不生孩子——一切取决于他们是否顺从——而他们会高高兴兴地服从我们。他们良心上最苦恼的秘密——一切都会交给我们，我们也将解决这些问题，他们将欣然相信我们的决定，因为这会使他们摆脱由于自由抉择而带来的巨大焦虑和可怕折磨。这样所有的人，亿万的人，除了几十万统治他们的人之外，都将获得幸福。只有掌握着他们秘密的我们是不幸福的。将会有几十亿幸福的婴儿和几十万受苦的人，因为这些人承担了自由分辨善恶的诅咒。这些人将在你的名义下悄然死去，在墓穴后面能够找到的只有死亡。我们将为他们保守秘密，并且为了他们的幸福用天国永恒的回报来引诱他们。因为即使另一个世界有什么回报的话，也绝对轮不上像他们这样的人。据说，人们甚至预言，你将带着那些骄傲而强大的选民再次降临，再次获胜；但我们要说，他们只拯救了自己，而我们却拯救了所有的人。据说，那个骑在野兽身上、掌握着神秘的淫妇将会被凌辱，弱者又将起来造反，他们把她的袍子撕成碎片，暴露她‘可憎’的肉体。那时我将站起身来，将你的注意力引到数十亿不知何为罪恶的快乐婴儿身上。我们为了他们的幸福而承担了他们的罪恶，我们应该站在你们面前说：‘审判我们吧，只要你能、你敢。’要知道，我并不怕你。要知道，我也到过旷野，我也吃过蝗虫和草根，我也珍视你曾向人们祝福的自由，我也曾准备加入你的选民，渴望成为强者中‘充数’的一员。但我觉醒了，不愿再为疯狂的事而献身。我回来了，加入到那些纠正你所作所为的人群中来。我离开骄傲的强者，为了卑微的弱者的幸福而回到他们那里。我对你所说的一切都将实现，我们的事业也将完成。我再次告诉你：明天你将看到温顺的羊群，只要我一点头，他们便会争先恐后地把煤块往火堆上扒，我将把你放在火堆上烧死，因为你阻碍了我们。如果说有谁最该受我们的火刑，那就是你了。明天我们就会把你烧死。Dixi.〔9〕”

伊万停住了。他说话的时候情绪亢奋，满怀激昂。现在停下来了，却突然笑了起来。

阿辽沙一直静静地听他说着，临结束时实在太激动了，他多次试图打断哥哥的讲话，但可以看出一直在竭力克制自己。这时他的话一下奔涌而出。

“但是……这太荒谬了！”他涨红了脸嚷道，“你的诗歌是对耶稣的赞颂，而不是诽谤——虽然你的初衷如此。谁会相信你关于自由的话？自由该这样理解吗？东正教也没这样理解。这是罗马，也不完全是罗马教会，这简直是扯淡——是天主教中最坏的那些人，是宗教法官、耶稣会教士们的那一套！……像你诗歌中的宗教大法官那样虚构的角色，在任何情况下都是不存在的。所谓他们替人类承担下来的罪恶是什么？为了人类的幸福而承担了诅咒的神秘掌握者又是谁？谁听说过这些人？我们知道耶稣会教士，他们的名声很糟糕，但他们是你诗歌中描绘的这些人么？他们根本不是那样的，完全不是这么回事……他们只是一支为了建立未来世界王国的罗马军队，以罗马教皇为首领……这就是他们的理想，没有什么神秘和悲壮……对权力最直接的渴求，攫取肮脏的世俗利益，奴役他人……像是未来的农奴制一样，不过由他们自己来当地主……这就是他们想要的一切。他们甚至有可能不相信上帝。你所谓的受折磨的宗教大法官只是一个幻想……”

“等等，等等。”伊万笑着说，“看看你多么慷慨激昂。你说只是一个幻想，好吧！这当然是幻想。但是请问：难道你果真以为，最近几个世纪的天主教运动，只是为了攫取肮脏利益而渴求权力么？难道是佩西神父这样教你的？”

“不，刚好相反，佩西神父有一次甚至说过跟你类似的话……当然，不是完全一样。”阿辽沙急忙改口。

“这还是个很宝贵的信息，尽管你说‘不完全一样’。我想问你的是：为什么你所说的耶稣会教士和宗教大法官联合在一起，只是为了攫取可鄙的物质利益？为什么他们中没有一个悲天悯人的受难者呢？瞧，假如只为攫取物质利益的人中有这么一个人——哪怕只有一个像我们年老的宗教大法官那样的人——在旷野中吃过草根，拼命克制肉体的欲望，使自己变得自由和完美，尽管终其一生他都热爱人类，但他却突然悟出，得到完美的自由并不是多大的精神幸福——如果与此同时，他确信其他千千万万上帝的受造物仅仅是作为一种嘲弄而创造出来的，他们永远无力运用自由，从那些可怜的反叛者中永远出不了能够把巴别塔修完的伟人，而伟大的思想家日思夜想的和谐，也绝非这些笨鹅能够享受到的。明白了这一点，他回头加入了……这些聪明人的队伍。难道这不可能发生么？”

“加入一伙什么样的人？什么聪明人？”阿辽沙几乎狂热地嚷道，“他们中绝对没有这样的思想，也不掌握什么神秘和秘密……有的只是目无上帝——这就是他们唯一的秘密。你的宗教大法官不相信上帝，这就是他的全部秘密！”

“就算这是真的又如何？你终于猜对了！确实是这样。全部的秘密确实尽在于此。但是，即使对他这样一个把一生光阴都花费在旷野苦修，却仍无法抛弃对人类的爱的人来说，难道这还不算是折磨么？他在垂暮之年清楚地认识到，惟有那个可怕的伟大精灵的劝告，才能多少使反叛的弱者——这些‘作为一个笑话而制造出来的不成熟的试验品’——重建一个可以容忍的秩序。确信这一点后，他认为必须遵从那聪明的精灵、那可怕的死亡和毁灭的精灵的指示去做，为此接受谎言和欺骗，有意识地引导人们走向死亡和毁灭，而一路上却一直欺骗他们，让他们不会觉察到会被引导到什么地方，使这些盲目的可怜人一路上也会自认为是幸福的。注意，欺骗是以老人毕生笃信其理想的那个人的名义来进行的。这难道不是一种不幸吗？哪怕有这么一个人担任了‘为了攫取肮脏利益而渴求权力’的军队的首领，那么这个人的力量还不足以造成一桩悲剧吗？不止如此，只要有这样一个人做了首领，便足以形成整个罗马教会的真正指导思想，包括所有军队和耶稣会教士们在内的这一伟大事业的最高理想。我坦白跟你说，我坚信在领导运动的人们中间，从来不乏这样的人。谁知道，或许罗马教皇中也有这样的人。谁知道，或许那个坚定不移爱着人类的被诅咒的老人，现在也许以一大批这样独特的老人的面貌而存在着，并且绝非偶然，而是作为一个为了保守秘密而成立已久的秘密联盟，他们隔离于那些弱者和不幸的人，为的是让他们感到幸福。事实一定是这样的，并且理应如此。我感觉甚至在共济会会员身上，也有类似的秘密作为他们行动的基础，而天主教徒之所以那么痛恨共济会会员，是因为把他们视为竞争对手，他们破坏思想观念的统一，而天主教认为，羊群本是统一的，而牧人只能有一个……事实上，我如此为自己的思想辩护，简直像个经不起你批评的作者了。算了，到此为止吧。”

“你也许自己就是共济会会员！”阿辽沙突然脱口而出。“你不相信上帝，”他又补充道，但语气已经变得十分悲哀。再者，他觉得哥哥以嘲笑的神情在望着他。“你的诗歌结局是如何？”他忽然眼睛盯着地上问，“还是说我们已经有结局了？”

“我想这样来结束它：当宗教大法官说完以后，他等待了好一阵，看看囚徒怎么回答。他发现囚徒的沉默让人难以忍受。他看到囚徒一直心平气静地听他讲完，直率地注视着他的眼睛，显然一句也不想反驳。老人希望对方能说些什么，哪怕是刺耳、可怕的话。但是他忽然一言不发地走到老人面前，默默地在他那没有血色、九十岁的嘴唇上吻了一下。这就是他的全部回答。老人颤抖了。他的嘴角微微抽搐了一下；他走向大门，打开它，对囚徒说：‘你走吧，以后别来……再也别回来了……永远……永远！’然后他把囚徒放了，让他走向‘城中黑暗的广场’。于是囚徒就离开了。”

“那老人呢？”

“那一个吻让他心火燃烧，但老人依旧保持原来的思想。”

“你也跟他一样？是不是？”阿辽沙悲伤地问道。

伊万笑了。

“哦，阿辽沙，这又不是真的——这不过是一个没写过两行诗的愚蠢大学生所作的语无伦次的诗歌。为什么你如此当真？难道你真认为我会到耶稣会教士那里去，加入到那些纠正耶稣所作所为的队伍中去？哦天，这关我什么事？我已经告诉过你：我只想熬到三十岁，到那时就把酒杯往地上一摔！”

“但是滋润的叶芽、宝贵的坟墓、碧蓝的天空、心爱的女人呢？你的日子要怎么过？你将如何爱它们？”阿辽沙悲伤地说道，“当胸膛和脑海中藏着这样一个地狱，难道还能过得下去？不，你一定会加入他们的行列……如果你不这样做，你就会自杀，你是忍受不了的！”

“有一种力量可以忍受任何事情！”伊万带着冷冷的嘲笑说。

“什么力量？”

“卡拉马佐夫的力量……卡拉马佐夫式下流的力量。”

“你是说沉湎于酒色，让灵魂腐化堕落，使生活彻底毁坏？是这样么？是这样么？”

“也许是这样……也许只有等我三十岁了，我才能逃脱，而那时……”

“但你怎么逃脱？用什么办法逃脱？根据你的想法这是不可能的。”

“还是用卡拉马佐夫式的方法。”

“你是说本着‘一切无所不可’的信条？什么都允许做，是不是这样？是不是？”

伊万皱起眉头，突然脸色很奇怪地变得苍白。

“啊，你抓住了昨天使米乌索夫大为生气的一句话……就是大哥德米特里很幼稚地跳出来抢着说的那句话？”他苦笑着说，“是的，既然话都说出来了，就算是靠着‘一切无所不可’吧。我不准备舍弃，而且米嘉的说法也不坏。”

阿辽沙一言不发地注视着他。

“弟弟，我要走了，原本以为这个世界上至少还有你，”伊万忽然动情地说，“但现在看来，你的心里没有我的位置，我亲爱的隐士。我不会舍弃‘一切无所不可’这个信条，但是你会因为这个而舍弃我吗？”

阿辽沙站起身，走向他，默默地在他嘴唇上轻吻了一下。

“这是文学剽窃！”伊万大声喊，突然间变得狂喜起来，“你从我的诗歌中窃取了这个创意！但没关系，我很感谢你。好了，阿辽沙，我们都该走了。”

他们往外走去，但在酒店的台阶前停下了。

“瞧，阿辽沙，”伊万用坚定的语气说，“如果我对滋润的叶芽还有感情的话，那么只要我一想起你，就该爱着它们。只要你还在什么地方活着，对我来说就已经足够了，我还不会不想活下去。这对你来说足够吗？如果你愿意，你可以把这当作是爱的表白。但现在你必须往右走，我往左——到此为止。你听明白了吗？已经够了。也就是说，如果我明天不走（尽管对我来说，我是一定要走的），我们肯定会在什么情况下再碰面，那时我希望你一个字也不要跟我再提起这些事。这是我坚决的请求。关于德米特里大哥的事，我也特别请求你，甚至从此都不要再跟我谈到他的事了。”他突然懊恼地补充了一句，“一切都谈够了，不是吗？作为交换条件，我也答应你一件事：当我到了三十岁，想‘把酒杯往地上一摔’的时候，无论你在哪里，我都会立刻来找你再畅谈一次……哪怕是远在美洲我也会来的，这点你记住。我一定会专程前来。到那时看看你变成什么样子，一定很有意思。你看，这是一个很庄严的承诺了。或许我们真会分离七年，甚至十年。现在到你的Pater Seraphicus 〔10〕那儿去吧，毕竟他正濒临死亡；万一你赶不回去见他最后一面，你说不定会迁怒于我，怨我把你耽搁了。再见，再吻我一次，就这样，现在走吧……”

伊万突然转身，径直走了，这次连头也没回。此刻很像昨天德米特里大哥离开阿辽沙时的情景，虽然昨天的氛围完全不是这么回事。这种奇怪的细节像箭一样在阿辽沙悲伤的脑海中一闪而过，此刻他的情绪是忧伤、凄楚的。他望着哥哥渐行渐远，等了一会儿。不知为什么他突然注意到哥哥走路的姿势好像是摇摇摆摆的，从背后看，他的右肩比左肩要低。以前他从未注意到这一点。但他突然也转身，几乎跑着直奔修道院的方向。天黑得厉害，他简直有些害怕了。他的心里涌起了一种新的他自己也无法解释的情绪。又起风了，跟昨天一样，当他走进庵舍的那片小树林时，周围的古松开始发出阴沉的飒飒声。他几乎要跑起来了。"Pater Seraphicus"——这个名字是他从某个地方引用过来的——究竟是哪儿呢？这一疑问在阿辽沙脑海里掠过。“伊万，可怜的伊万，我什么时候才能再见你……庵舍到了，哦天！是的，是的，是他，他是Pater Seraphicus，他能拯救我……不受他的影响，彻底摆脱他的影响！”

此后在他的一生中，阿辽沙数次回忆起这一幕，带着极大的困惑：当他和伊万分手以后，怎么会突然完全忘记了德米特里大哥？而在当天早上，仅仅几小时前，他还曾决定无论如何一定要找到他，否则决不罢休，甚至当夜不回修道院也在所不惜的。

注释

〔1〕　选自《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》第二部第二卷。——译者注

〔2〕　法语：《圣母玛利亚的仁慈判决》。——译者注

〔3〕　席勒的诗《愿望》中的句子。——译者注

〔4〕　俄国诗人丘特契夫《可怜的乡村》中的诗句。——译者注

〔5〕　拉丁文：为了上帝伟大的荣耀。——译者注

〔6〕　拉丁文：误会。——译者注

〔7〕　参见《圣经·马太福音》第4章1-11节。——译者注

〔8〕　参见《圣经·马太福音》第27章42节。——译者注

〔9〕　拉丁文：我说完了。——译者注

〔10〕　拉丁文：塞拉菲库斯神父，意为天使般的神父。这是歌德诗剧《浮士德》中的人物，伊万借此指佐西马长老。——译者注

第二部分　死屋手记（节选）

我们的监狱地处要塞的边缘，紧靠围墙。有时候，你透过木栅的缝隙向外窥视上帝的疆土，能瞧见什么吧？——你看到的只是一小块天空，野草丛生的高高的土墙，日夜在城墙上来回巡逻的卫兵；这时你会想，等熬过这些年，再透过木栅的缝隙向外窥视，你看到的大概仍将是这堵围墙，同样的卫兵以及那块小小的天空，不过，那天空并不是监狱上方的天空，而是另一个遥远的、自由的天空。监狱大院长两百码，宽一百五十码，呈不规则的六角形，四周被高高的木栅围起来。木栅是由一根紧挨着一根深埋在土里的高大木桩构成，这些木桩顶端削尖，横钉着一排排加固的木板：这就是监狱大院最外面的一道院墙。墙的一边开着一道坚固的大门，大门总是紧闭，日夜由卫兵守卫，在需要放我们出去干活的时候才会打开。这座大门之外就是光明而自由的世界，那里的人们像其他所有人一样过着普通的生活。但是对于生活在墙里面的人而言，外面的世界就像是无法到达的仙境。这里是我们的世界，与其他任何地方都不一样；这里有自己的法律，自己的服装，自己的风俗习惯，这里是一座活死人之屋，这里的生活和世界上其他任何地方都不同，连人也是特殊的。我现在要讲述的就是这个特殊的角落。

一走进这个大院，就能看见几样建筑。两排木头搭的平房沿着宽阔的内院两侧伸展开，这就是囚室。囚犯们按不同罪行分类住在这里。接着，院子深处有一排同样的木屋：那是伙房，它分成两部分；再往后还有一排木房子，被当作储藏室和库房，用来堆放各种杂物。院子中央空空荡荡，是一块相当大的平地。犯人们在这里集合排队，早上、中午、晚上都在这里点名，有时一天还要点好几次名，这要根据卫兵的多疑程度以及他们计算人数的能力而定。在木房和木栅之间还有一片空地。犯人中那些性格孤僻的人都喜欢在工余去木房后面散步，以避开众人耳目想自己的心事。每次散步时与他们相遇，我都喜欢端详他们那抑郁的打着烙印的面孔，揣测他们在想什么。有个流放犯的业余爱好是数木桩。木桩共有一千五百根，他每一根都清清楚楚，因为他曾一根一根数过。对他来说，每根木桩代表一天，他每天记一根，这样，根据还没数的木桩数，一眼便可以看出他还要在狱中待多少日子，才能挨到苦役的刑期结束。每次数完这六角形木栅的一边，他都高兴极了。他还要等许多年；不过，在监狱里，有的是时间去学会忍耐。有一次，我看见一个被关押了二十年的犯人在获释时向狱友告别。还有人记得他刚入狱时的样子，年轻，无忧无虑，既不考虑自己的罪行，也不考虑自己所受的惩罚；出狱时，他已是一位头发斑白的老人，面色悲伤忧愁。他默默地走遍所有六个囚室。每走进一间，便向圣像祈祷，然后向狱友们深深鞠躬，弯下腰请大家带着怜悯记住他。我还记得，有天晚上，一个犯人被叫到门口。这人入狱前曾是西伯利亚的富农，半年前他得到消息，他的妻子已经改嫁，为此他伤心透了。可是现在她亲自来探监，想见见他，还送来了东西。他们说了一会儿话，各自清泪两行，便永别了。等他回到囚室时，我看到他脸上的表情……是的，在这个地方，人是可以学会忍耐的。

天一黑，我们便被关进囚室，一晚都不许出屋。每当从外面走进囚室，总让人难以接受。这是一个不通风的长条状大房间，动物油脂做的蜡烛照出昏暗的光，总是充满让人喘不过气的气味。我直到现在还不明白，我怎能在这里度过十年。我在通铺上占有三块木板用来睡觉：这就是我拥有的所有空间。单单在我们这间囚室的通铺上就一共睡了三十个人。冬天，门很早就上了锁，可是要等到大伙都躺下睡觉，还得再等上四个小时。睡前是一片喧哗声、吵嚷声、笑声、咒骂声、镣铐叮当、油烟味儿，剃了半边的头，打着烙印的脸，破衣烂衫，所有那些被诅咒和被侮辱的……是的，人的忍耐力真强！人类是一种能习惯于任何环境的生物，我认为这是对人的最恰当的定义。

在我们监狱里关押着二百五十个人——这个数字几乎是固定的。一些人被送进来，另一些人刑期结束被放出去，还有的则死在狱中。这里什么样的人没有啊！我想，俄国的每一个省、每一个地区，在这里都有自己的代表。这里也有非俄罗斯人，有几个流放犯甚至来自高加索山区。所有犯人都是按照罪行的程度和刑期的长短分类。我猜每一种罪行在这里也都有自己的代表。民事流放犯是全狱犯人中最常见的。这类犯人的一切权利都被剥夺了，他们与社会完全失去了联系，脸上的烙印永远证明他们是被抛弃的人。这些人被流放到这里服苦役，刑期一般是八至十二年，刑满后，作为移民被发配到西伯利亚的一些地方。这里也有军事犯，类似某些军犯营，他们的公民权未被剥夺，一般刑期较短，刑满后被送回原地，在西伯利亚的一些边防营当兵。可是他们当中许多人在获释后，往往因为再次犯下重罪而立即被送回监狱，不过这次的刑期就不是短期，而是二十年。这类人被视作“惯犯”。尽管是“惯犯”，但他们的公民权并未被完全剥夺。最后还有一类最可怕的犯人，他们人数颇多，主要是军人。这一类被叫作“特别部”。犯人都是从俄国各地发配到这里。他们自认为是终身囚犯，也不知道自己的刑期。按照法律，他们应当从事两倍或三倍的苦役。在西伯利亚开设最繁重的苦役营以前，他们就一直被关在监狱里。“你们的服刑有期，而我们的苦役是终身，”他们常对其他犯人如是说。我听说这一类苦役犯已经被废除了；此外，在我们要塞里，连民事犯也被取消了，只设单一的普通军事犯部。当然，狱方的长官也有所调换。所以，我所描述的都是过去的事，那些早已逝去的往事……

这一切都是很久以前的事了；现在回忆起来犹如一场噩梦。我还记得我初入狱时的情景。那是在十二月的一个傍晚。天已经黑了，犯人们收工回来正准备点名。终于，一个大胡子士官打开这座牢狱的大门，让我走进去。从这时起，我将要在这个奇怪的地方度过许多年头，经受许多苦难，如果不是亲身体验过，我对于这种苦难是不会有任何了解的。比如，我无论如何也不敢设想，在整整十年服苦役期间，我从没有单独一个人待过，一次也没有，连一分钟也没有。还有什么比这更可怕、更痛苦的呢？干活时，有卫兵监视，回到监狱，有两百多个狱友跟我一起，我一次也没有单独一个人！不过，我必须习惯这些，不管我是否喜欢。

这里有误杀了人的杀人犯，也有屡犯凶案的老手；有强盗，也有强盗头子。有小偷，也有入室行窃的流浪汉。还有一些人，很难断定他们是因为什么到这里来的。然而，每个人都有自己的故事，就像痛饮后的宿醉那样模糊混乱。一般来说，他们很少讲述自己的经历，显然都竭力不去回忆往事。其中我还认识几个杀人凶手，他们总是那样愉快，从不考虑自己曾干过的事儿，我敢打赌，他们从没有受过良心的谴责。但是也有一些郁郁寡欢的人，几乎总是沉默不语。总之，很少有谁会讲述自己的往事，好奇心并不流行。偶尔有些时候，有人也许因为无所事事才开口，其他人则冷淡地听着。在这里，无论说什么都不会使人感到惊讶。“我们能识文断字！”他们常用十分自负的口吻说。我记得，有个土匪有一天喝醉了（监狱里有时也可以弄到酒），开始讲他如何杀害了一个五岁的小男孩。他用玩具把小男孩引诱到一个空棚子里，杀了他。当时正在听他讲笑话的犯人，都异口同声喊叫起来，那个强盗才不得不住口；全囚室的人之所以喊叫，并不是由于义愤，而是因为不应该讲这种事，因为讲这种事是不适宜的。我要指出的是，这些人确实都“识文断字”，这不是比喻，而是从“识字”这个词的字面意义上讲的。他们当中大概有一半以上的人都受过教育。在其他那些俄国人大规模聚集的地方，还有哪里能从二百五十个人里找出一半识字的呢？后来我听说，有人从这类证据中得出结论：对于普通人而言，能读能写是有害的。这是种误解：在这个问题上完全有另外的原因，不能否认，读书识字能激发人的自信心。但这绝不是缺点。从服装上就可以区分出犯人的不同类别：有些人的上衣一半是暗褐色，另一半是灰色，裤子也是一样的——一条腿是灰色，另一条腿是暗褐色。有一次我们正在干活，一个卖面包圈儿的小女孩走到犯人跟前，她把我端详了好一阵，突然放声大笑：“是不是不够用！灰布不够长，黑布也不够。”还有一些人的上衣是灰色，只有袖子是暗褐色。我们的头剃得也不一样：一些人竖着剃半边，另一些则横着剃半边。

一眼就可以看出，这个奇怪的大家庭中的人有一些明显的共同点：就连那些个性最强的人，也力求同整个监狱的风气协调起来。一般来说，除了那些喜欢逗乐、被大家一致当作嘲弄对象的少数人之外，这里所有的人都有阴沉、古怪、虚荣、自夸、防御心重而又高度精神集中的特点。对任何事都不感到惊奇被认为是最大的美德。他们都疯狂纠缠于外在行为的问题。然而常常最傲慢的举止会闪电般地为怯懦所取代。这里有几个真正强壮过人的家伙，很直率，但说也奇怪，其中有些人虚荣到极点，几乎成了病态。总之，虚荣和外表是最重要的。这种人大部分都已经堕落无望。搬弄是非、造谣中伤的事从未停止：这里简直是地狱，灵魂的黑夜。但是对监狱内部的惯例却无人敢违抗；人人都遵守它们。有些个性很强的人，起初觉得这种惯例很难遵守，但还是妥协了。有些犯人，在自由时肆意妄为，超越底线，最终被捕入狱，他们好像并不清楚为什么会犯罪，仿佛是在神志不清的状态下犯罪的；往往这就是由于虚荣心膨胀到不正常的限度。但是在我们监狱里，这些人很快就老实了，其中有些人在入狱前还是全村全镇中最令人胆寒的人物。看看周围，新来的人很快就发现自己走错了地方：这里没人对他的到来感到惊奇，于是他不知不觉也变得俯首听命，屈服于这里的风气。这种风气表面上表现为某种特殊的自尊感，而这种自尊感几乎是狱中每个人都有的。苦役犯和被判刑者的称号仿佛是一种头衔，而且是一种荣誉头衔。连一点点羞愧和悔恨的迹象都没有！不过，他们保持着一种表面上的顺从，“我们都是一些迷失的人，”他们常常这样说，“不知道在自由时怎么生活，现在只好穿绿街〔1〕，检阅队列。”——“我们在家时不听父母言，如今只好听皮鼓声〔2〕。”——“既然不愿金线缝衣，现在只好榔头砸石。”这些话都常挂在嘴边，像是劝谕人的箴言谚语，但他们从来没当真过。不过是随口讲讲而已。几乎没有人从内心承认过自己的非法性。如果有不是罪犯的人试图谴责一个犯人的罪行（虽然谴责犯人是与俄国人的精神不相符的），那他就会遭到无休止的辱骂。他们都是一些骂人专家！骂得别致又艺术，已经把谩骂提升到一门科学的水平；他们所竭力选择的与其说是刺耳的字眼，倒不如说是攻击性的精神和思想——这就显得更加别致和恶毒。由于他们经常不断地争吵谩骂，这门科学便得到了进一步的发展。这些人都是被棍子威胁着参加劳动的，自然个个都懒惰堕落；如果说他们原先还没有堕落，那么进了监狱就变坏了。他们这些人都不是自愿聚集到这里来的；他们彼此都是陌生的。

“为了把我们聚集到这里，魔鬼至少踏破了三双鞋！”他们常常这样说，然后是诋毁中伤、尔虞我诈、搬弄是非、嫉妒、争吵、仇恨，这一切都在这地狱般的苦役生活中占有首要地位。任何一个泼妇都不会像这些凶手中的某些人那样善于搬弄是非。我再重复一遍，他们中间也有一些体格强壮的人，这些人一生都习惯于统治别人，发号施令，冷酷又无所畏惧。这些人自然也受到尊敬；尽管他们也常常热衷于维护自己的威望，但不压制别人，也不参与无聊的谩骂，他们都有很强的自尊心，遇事审慎，而且几乎总是服从狱方——这种服从并不是出于顺从或自觉遵守义务，而是仿佛同狱方有一种对双方都有利的默契。不过，大家同他们相处都很谨慎。我记得，这些犯人中有一个莽汉，他那蛮脾气在狱方那里都出了名，有一次，不知是因为犯了什么错，他被带出去受刑。当时正值夏天，大家已经干完了活。负责直接管辖监狱的典狱长亲自来大门旁边的卫兵室监刑。对于犯人们来说，这位少校真是他们命中的凶神恶煞，一看见就浑身发抖。他严厉到极点，正如苦役犯们所说，他“见人就扑”。他们最害怕的是他那双像山猫一样的锐利眼睛，什么事都瞒不过他。他好像什么也不看，其实什么都看见了。从监狱这头一走进来，他就知道那头在干什么。囚犯们都叫他“八只眼”。他采用的管理方法是错误的。疯狂残忍的管理办法只能让那些本已经充满仇视的犯人更加凶恶。如果不是他的顶头上司——气度豁达而谨慎的要塞司令时常制止他的野蛮行径，他那套管理方法恐怕早就闹出大乱子了。我真不明白，他怎能得到善终！后来他退休了，虽然曾经出庭受审讯，但日子过得挺好，身体也不错。

这个犯人一听到叫他的名字，脸色都白了。以往他受刑时，常常一声不响地躺在地上，任人鞭笞，受完刑罚后，“霍”地站起来，冷静地对待这次倒霉事件。尽管如此，狱方对待他仍十分谨慎。可是这一次不知为何，他觉得自己在理。他脸色苍白，悄悄地背着卫兵把一把锋利的英国制鞋刀藏在袖管里。在狱中，刀或任何别的锋利器具是被严格禁止的。常常有突击搜查，违反者将受到严厉惩处。不过，一个小偷要是想把什么东西藏起来，那是很难搜到的，而刀子或是其他工具在监狱里又能常常用到，因此，不管如何搜查，这类东西从未彻底消失。如果被搜走了，立刻又能弄来新的。这时，全狱的犯人都跑到木栅前，屏住呼吸透过缝隙看出去。大家都知道，彼得罗夫这一次并不想乖乖躺下挨打，看来，少校的末日来临了。然而就在这紧要关头，我们的少校却坐上马车走了，把行刑的任务交给另一个军官。“上帝救了他！”——后来犯人们都这么说。至于彼得罗夫，他满不在乎地接受了这次刑罚。他的愤怒因少校离去而消失了。犯人可以顺从驯服到一定程度，但不能超越这个限度。有时候，执拗脾气的发作毫无征兆。一个人往往能忍耐若干年，俯首听命，忍受最残酷的刑罚，可是偶然间为了一件鸡毛蒜皮的小事，为了一件微不足道的琐事，甚至可能什么都不为，却突然发作起来。从某种观点来看，可以把他叫作疯子；很多人也确实是这么想的。

我已经说过，那些年里，我从未看到他们当中有谁曾有过一点点悔过的表示。他们在想到自己的罪行时，一点也不感到沉痛，相反，大多数人在内心里都认为自己是完全无罪的。这是事实。当然，虚荣、坏榜样、鲁莽和虚伪的羞愧，在很大程度上是造成这种现象的原因。另一方面，又有谁能说他曾探究过这些迷失的心灵深处，了解那些深深锁闭在心中不为人知的秘密呢？在漫长的岁月里，本来是能够发现并捕捉到一点内心的奥秘，探究深藏的愤怒与痛苦。但是没有，根本没有。是的，犯罪行为似乎是不能从现有的观点来理解的，犯罪的哲学比人们想象的更为深奥。当然了，监狱和强制性劳动制度是感化不了犯人的；这一切只能惩罚他，保障社会的安宁，使社会不再遭受这些凶犯的进一步破坏。监狱和繁重的苦役只能在犯人心中助长仇恨，增强他们对被禁止的安逸享乐和轻纵妄为的渴求。我深信，这种受到过分赞扬的单独囚禁制度只能达到虚伪的、骗人的和表面的目的。它吮吸人的生命之液，摧残人的灵魂，使人的心灵衰弱枯竭，然后把这个精神上已枯萎成木乃伊的半疯的人当作感化和忏悔的典范。不消说，那些反社会的罪犯是仇视社会的，他们几乎总是认为自己无罪，而有罪的是社会。既然受到了社会的惩罚，他们就认为自己已经被彻底清算。如果从这种观点引申来看，自然会认为正确的是罪犯一方。但是如果抛除所有持偏见的立场，每个人都会承认：罪恶就是罪恶，不容争辩；它始于宇宙混沌之初，无处不在，纠缠于所有法律体系中，并将随人类的历史而延续下去。我只是在监狱里才听到过一些最可怕、最不正常的罪行和最骇人听闻的凶案，可是讲述者在叙述这些事件时，却流露出一种十分天真的、抑制不住的嬉笑态度。有一个弑父者给我留下的印象尤为深刻。他出身贵族，在政府部门服务，在他那六十岁的老父亲眼里，他是一个行为放纵的败家子，到处欠债。父亲曾试图约束他，规劝他走上正路；而父亲有一套房屋和一处田庄，估计还可能有笔现款，儿子急于得到遗产，便把父亲杀了。这桩凶案在一个月以后才被破获。凶手到警察局声称父亲失踪。整整一个月里，他过着纸醉金迷的生活。可是警察终于趁他不在家的时候发现了尸体。在他家农场里有一条很长的污水沟，上面盖着木板。尸身就躺在这个阴沟里。死者穿戴整齐，鬓发斑白的头颅被割了下来，但还连在身上，凶手还在死者头下放了一个枕头。尽管他最终没有招认，法庭仍判决剥夺他的贵族身份和公职，发配服苦役二十年。在我与他相处期间，他的精神状态一直很好，逗笑取乐。他是一个性情乖张、轻率浮躁的人，但绝不愚蠢。在他身上我从未发现有什么特别残忍的东西。犯人们瞧不起他，并不是因为他的罪行（关于这一点人们从来不提），而是因为他的举止令人讨厌。他在谈话中有时也提到父亲。有一次，当他和我谈到他们家族的遗传基因时，他说，“我父亲一直到死都从来没抱怨过有什么病。”这样的冷酷无情自然是不能容忍的。这是一种特殊现象：已经不单单是犯罪的问题，而是一种尚未被科学发现的体质上的缺陷，一种肉体和精神上的畸形。起初，我并不相信他犯下这种罪行。可是他那些对他的经历十分了解的同乡，对我说了事情的始末。事实如此清晰，使人不得不相信。

有一次，犯人们在夜间听见他在梦中大喊大叫：“抓住他！抓住他！他的头，砍掉他的头，头！”

几乎所有犯人在夜里都说梦话。他们咒骂，说黑话，刀、斧子等等是他们发梦呓时常挂在嘴边的字眼。“我们是被揍得丧魂落魄的人，”他们常常这样说，“我们的五脏六腑都被掏去了，所以夜里才大喊大叫。”

官方规定的强制性奴役并不是一种工作，而是一种义务，犯人们干完限定的活或消磨完法定的干活时间以后就回到监狱。劳动总是与惩罚相提并论。但一个人若是没有自己的工作，没有一种能把自己的全部智力和精力都消耗在上面的工作，他在监狱里是不可能活下去的。囚犯都是一些智力发育正常、过惯了痛快日子的人，他们被迫聚集在这里，被迫脱离了社会和正常的生活，他们怎么才能在这里按照自己的意志过一种有规律的、正常的生活呢？单是无所事事这一点，就能引发犯罪的倾向。一个人若不劳动，若没有合法的、正常的财产，他就不能生存，他就要堕落，变为兽类。因此，在监狱里，由于自然的需求和某种自我保护的本能，每个人都有了自己的技能和工作。在那漫长的夏日里，白天几乎都被强制劳动填满了，短短的夜晚只够勉强用于睡眠。而到了冬天，天一黑，犯人就照例被关进囚室。在这漫长而寂寞的冬夜，他们总可以干点什么了吧。因此，不顾狱方的禁令，每间囚室几乎都变成了巨大的作坊。工作本身并不被禁止，但严禁犯人持有工具；可是如果没有工具，是不能工作的，于是他们便悄悄干起来，有时连狱方也只好睁一只眼闭一只眼，佯装看不见罢了。犯人中有很多人在入狱时什么活儿也不会，但他们向别人学，结果到出狱时，他们都成了很好的手艺人。这里面有靴匠、鞋匠、裁缝、木匠、锁匠、雕刻匠和镀金工匠。有个叫伊赛·布姆施坦的犹太人，既是镀金匠，又是放高利贷的。他们每个人都干点什么，力图赚几个钱。订单往往来自城里。金钱是化作了钞票形状的自由，对于一个完全失去了自由的人，金钱就更加十倍的贵重了。金钱在他的衣袋里叮当一响，他便得到一半安慰，即使花不掉它们也是如此。不过，钱是随时随地都可以花掉的，禁果的滋味分外甜。在狱中甚至能弄到伏特加。烟是严禁品，但人人都吸烟。金钱和烟草使他们不患坏血症和其他疾病。工作使他们不犯罪，如果不工作，犯人就会像玻璃瓶里的蜘蛛那样互相吞噬。尽管如此，工作和金钱仍是被禁止的。往往在夜间进行突然搜查，所有违禁品都被搜去，至于钱，无论藏得多严密，有时仍会被搜去。犯人们之所以不存钱，随时挥霍买酒喝掉，其部分原因就在这里。每次搜查以后，那些犯错的人除了失去全部财产之外，通常还要受刑罚。尽管如此，每次搜查以后，所损失的东西立刻又补上了，新的物品立刻被弄进来，一切如故。狱方也了解这一点，犯人对于刑罚也不抱怨，尽管这种生活像是居住在维苏威火山上一样，令人胆战心惊。

不会手艺的人则想别的办法搞钱。有些办法也真够别出心裁的。比如，有的人专门从事倒卖二手货，有时候他们倒卖的东西连监狱外面的人也难以想到，甚至算不上什么东西。苦役犯都很穷，但做生意的本事却很大。就连一块破布也值钱，也可以利用。由于贫穷，金钱在监狱里的价值和外面是大不相同的。一件十分复杂并付出了大量劳动的活计，可能只赚几个铜板。有些人甚至放起高利贷，而且很成功。一些厌倦了劳动或是急缺钱的犯人，常常把自己的最后一件东西送到高利贷者那里去典当，以换取几个铜板，而利息往往高得惊人。那些抵押品若是到期不赎回，便会被毫不犹豫毫不怜惜地卖掉。放高利贷这一行是如此兴隆，以致连狱方发的一些物品比如囚服、靴鞋等等也都成了抵押品，这些东西是每个犯人随时随地都需要的。然而，在进行这种典当时，往往也发生一种并非完全出乎意料的事：典当者得到钱以后，二话不说，径直跑到看守那里去报告，说他把公家发的东西典当出去了，于是看守立刻下令把那些抵押物从高利贷者手里拿回来，处理这种事甚至无须向上级汇报。更为有趣的是，在处理这种事情时连争吵都没发生过：放高利贷的一声不响哭丧着脸把东西退还物主，好像他自己也早料到会是这样的结果。也许他内心不得不承认，如果他处于典当人的位置，他也会这么做的。所以，即使他事后骂上几句，也并非出于恶意，只是为了让自己觉得好受点罢了。

一般来说，犯人中间互相偷窃之风是相当厉害的。每个犯人几乎都有一个上锁的小箱子，收藏狱方发的东西。小箱子是准许有的，但小箱子也不保险。可以想象得到，犯人中间有一些非常高明的小偷。我有一个狱友，对我忠心耿耿（我可以毫不夸张地这样说），却把我唯一的一本准许在狱中阅读的《圣经》给偷走了；可是他当天便亲自向我招认了此事。他之所以招认，并非出自悔过，而是看我找了很久，替我感到难过。有一些贩伏特加的人很快都发了财。关于贩酒的事我后面还要专门讲到，这是一件非常有趣的事情。犯人当中有很多人是走私犯，因此尽管身处严格的监视和警卫之下，仍有人能想方设法把酒弄进狱中也就不足为奇了。有时候，走私，按其性质来说，是一种特殊的犯罪。比如，你能够想象到吗？对于某些走私犯来说，金钱和营利不是主要目的，而只是在他们心目中占次要的地位。确实有这样的事。他们热衷于走私，甚至把走私看作自己的天职。这样的人多少有点像诗人。他孤注一掷，铤而走险，狡猾又富有想象力，屡屡摆脱困境；有时他的行动简直是为某种灵感所驱使。走私的热情是如此强烈，犹如赌博一样。在监狱里，我认识一个犯人，他身材魁梧，但性情温顺安静，很难想象他怎么会被关进监狱。他品性不错，与人为善，在蹲监狱期间从未与任何人争吵过。他来自西部边界，因为走私被捕，但是在监狱里又私运起伏特加来。他因为私运酒被惩罚过多少次啊！而且他非常怕受鞭笞！其实，贩酒本身给他带来的只是一点点微不足道的报酬。靠卖酒发财的只是那些生意人。这个怪人纯粹是为了走私而走私。他总是像老太太那样哭哭啼啼，受过刑罚以后，曾多次发誓要洗手不干了。他有时也下决心来约束自己，但过不了一个月，最后还是控制不住。由于这些人的存在，监狱里从来没断过酒。

最后，犯人还有一项收入，尽管靠它发不了财，但这项收入却是源源不断，大有好处。这便是施舍品。我们社会中的上层人士不大了解老百姓是如何关怀我们这些“不幸的人”的。施舍品几乎从未间断，经常布施的是大大小小的面包和面包圈儿，偶尔也有现款。如果没有这些施舍品，许多地方的犯人，特别是那些待审的犯人和受严格禁闭的犯人，他们的生活会更加艰苦。犯人像举行宗教仪式一样平均分配这些施舍品。整块面包若不够分，便切成小块平均分给大伙，有时甚至把面包切成六块，每个犯人都能分到一块。我至今还记得我第一次接受现款施舍时的情景。那是在我入狱后不久，有一天，我干完早活，独自一人被卫兵押送回来。迎面走来一个女人和她的女儿，女孩才十岁左右，像天使一样可爱。以前我也见过她们一次。女人的丈夫是个年轻的士兵，入狱后死在医院的囚犯病房中，当时我也在住院。母女俩曾来医院向死者告别，哭得十分悲恸。这一次，小女孩一看见我，便涨红了脸，低声跟母亲说了句什么。母亲立刻停住脚步，从衣袋里摸出一个铜板交给小女孩。女孩跑过来追上我……“给你，‘不幸的人’，看在上帝的面上，收下这个铜板吧，”她一边喊，一边跑到我跟前，把铜板塞到我手里。我接过她的铜板，她才满意地跑回母亲身边。这个铜板在我身边保存了很久。

最初印象（1）

我至今仍对最初的一个月以及早期的监狱生活记忆犹新。此后几年的日子在我的脑海里却模糊得多。有些事仿佛已融化在背景中，彼此混在一起，只剩下一个笼统的印象：痛苦、单调、令人窒息的印象。

然而我在苦役犯生活的初期所经历的一切，至今回忆起来仍像是发生在昨天一样。这也是很自然的事。

我清楚地记得，在我开始过上这种生活的最初几天里，令我诧异的是，仿佛并没有什么能让我惊讶的，异乎寻常的，或者说是让我感到意外的事。这里的一切，似乎早在我前来西伯利亚的途中竭力猜测未来的命运时，就已经在我的脑海中闪过。可是过了不久，无数出乎意料的怪事和最骇人听闻的事件便接连不断地发生。只是到后来，当我在狱中度过了相当长的时间以后，我才充分了解到这种生活究竟有多奇特，多么不可思议，因此我越来越感到惊愕。老实说，在我服苦役的漫长岁月中，这种惊愕心理一直没有离开过我，我也始终未能摆脱它。

入狱后，我的第一印象就是：这里的一切都令人无比厌恶；但尽管如此——说来也奇怪！——监狱里的生活比我在路途中所想象的要轻松得多。囚犯们尽管戴着脚镣，却可以在狱中各处自由行走，他们吵骂、唱歌、干私活、吸烟，甚至喝酒（虽说很少见），到了夜里，还有人斗牌赌博。比如说，在我看来，劳动本身并不像想象中的服刑劳动那么繁重，只有过了一段时间以后我才弄明白，这种劳动的艰苦和刑罚的本质并不体现在困难和繁重，而在于它是被迫的，强制性的，是在棍棒的威胁之下进行的。一个自由的农民所干的活可能要繁重得多，有时甚至晚上还得干活，尤其是在夏天；然而他是为自己干活，有实际的目的，比起苦役犯被迫从事的这种对自己毫无用处的劳动来说就要轻松多了。有一次我曾这样想：要想把一个人彻底毁掉，对他进行最严厉的惩罚，严厉到连最残忍的凶手在它面前也要战战兢兢，那只需让他干一种毫无益处、毫无意义的劳动就行了。尽管现在的苦役劳动对苦役犯来说是枯燥乏味的，然而就劳动本身来说，它还是有意义的：囚犯们烧砖、挖土、抹灰泥、盖房，这样的劳动还是有意义和有目的的。苦役犯们有时甚至还醉心于这种劳动，希望把活干得更巧、更快、更出色。但是如果强迫他，譬如说，把一桶水从一只桶里倒进另一只桶里，然后再从另一只桶里倒回原先那一只桶；或者让他把一堆土从一个地方搬到另一个地方，然后再搬回去——我想，几天之后，这个囚犯就会上吊，或者宁肯犯一千次罪以求速死，也不愿忍受这种羞辱和痛苦。不用说，这样的惩罚也就变成了折磨和复仇，是毫无意义的，因为它达不到任何实际目的。但是，由于一切强制性劳动都带有这种折磨人、无意义、使人感到羞辱的成分，因而苦役劳动也就远比任何一种自由劳动都更加令人痛苦，因为它是强制性的。

不过，我是在冬天入狱的，当时我还不知道，夏季的劳动比这要艰苦五倍。冬天，我们要塞里的活儿一般来说并不多。囚犯们经常到额尔齐斯河上去拆卸公家的旧驳船，在作坊里干活，暴风雪之后打扫公务楼前的积雪，烧制并捣碎建筑用石膏等等。冬季白天短，劳动很快就结束了，我们大伙儿早早回到牢房，如果不干点私活，几乎就无事可干了。但是，干私活的也许只不过占囚犯的三分之一，其余的人就吊儿郎当地在各个囚室里闲逛，互相咒骂，钩心斗角，惹是生非，如果能弄到几个钱就喝酒；夜里则把最后一件衬衫输在打牌上。这一切都是由于苦闷，由于游手好闲、无所事事。后来我才明白，在苦役生活中，除了失去自由，除了强迫劳动以外，还有一种痛苦比其他一切痛苦都更加强烈，这就是被迫过集体生活。当然，在别的地方，人们也过集体生活，但监狱里往往有些人并不是谁都愿意和他们生活在一起的，而且我确信，任何一个囚犯都经历过这种痛苦，只是大部分人没有意识到这一点罢了。

在我看来，食物也是相当充足的。狱友们都向我打包票，在俄国内地的一些军犯连里也没有这样好的伙食。关于这一点我可不敢下断言，因为我没去过那里。此外，许多囚犯还能自己搞到吃的。我们这里的牛肉是半戈比〔3〕一磅，夏天也不过是三戈比。但是也只有那些经常能搞到钱的囚犯才能开小灶，大多数人还是吃公家的伙食。不过，囚犯们赞扬监狱伙食的时候，他们指的只是面包。他们感激的是我们这儿的面包是敞开供应的，而不是定量分配。他们最害怕定量分配，因为若是定量分配，三分之一的囚犯都会挨饿，而匀着吃大家都能吃饱。不知为什么，我们这儿的面包特别香，在全城都有名。大家都说这是因为监狱里的面包炉修得好。菜汤可就不怎么样了。汤是用一口大锅熬的，特别在工作日，都是兑点剩饭，清汤寡水的。最使我惊讶的是，汤里的蟑螂多得让我头皮发麻，可是犯人们对此满不在乎。

头三天我没有出工干活；每个初来的犯人都有这种待遇，被允许在长途跋涉之后休息几天。但是第二天我必须到狱外去换副新脚镣。我的脚镣不合标准，是用铁环做的，囚犯们管它叫“小叮当”，通常戴在衣服外面。而适合在干活时戴的狱中的标准脚镣不是用铁环做成，是由四根手指般粗细的铁棍用三个铁环连接在一起。这样的脚镣必须戴在裤腿里面。中间那个铁环系上一根皮带，皮带的另一头则拴在衬衫外面的腰带上。

我还记得我在囚室里度过的第一个早晨。天蒙蒙亮，监狱大门口的看守室里敲起晨鼓，十分钟后，值班的看守打开各间囚室的门。犯人们开始醒来，在一镑能买六根的油脂蜡烛的晦暗光照下，囚犯们一个个从通铺板上爬起来，冻得浑身发抖。大多数人一声不吭，睡眼蒙眬。他们打呵欠，伸懒腰，紧蹙着打着烙印的前额。有的在身上划十字，有的却开始吵架。室内空气闷得令人窒息。牢门一开，冬天的新鲜空气马上灌进屋里，结成一团团蒸汽在室内翻滚。囚犯们围在水桶旁边，轮流拿起勺子往嘴里灌水，然后把水吐出来洗手洗脸。水是由布拉什尼克在头天晚上预备好的。每间囚室里按例有一个由大家推选出来专干杂活的囚犯，他被叫作布拉什尼克，不需要出门干活。平时他负责保持室内清洁，擦洗床板和地板，倒马桶，打满两桶净水以供早晨洗脸和晚上饮用。勺子只有一把，于是大伙儿立刻为抢勺子而争吵起来。

“你这个该死的，往哪儿挤？”一个愁眉苦脸的高个儿囚犯抱怨道。这个人又瘦又黑，剃光了的半边头上有许多奇形怪状的隆起的小包；他一面推搡着另一个红脸矮胖子，一面喊道：“老实待那儿！”

“你喊什么？我们这儿喊一声‘老实待那儿’是要付钱的，知道吗；你自己滚吧！上帝啊，看看他站在那儿挺尸。弟兄们，他可真不走运。”

这句俏皮话确实产生了某种效果：许多人都笑了。这就是那个活泼胖子所期望的，显然，他在囚室里自愿扮演滑稽小丑的角色。那个大个子囚犯极其藐视地看着他。

“胖母猪！”他自言自语似的说道，“看看他，监狱里的面包把他喂肥了！我很高兴，等到圣诞节的时候，管保他能生十二个小猪崽儿。”

胖子终于被激怒了。

“你他妈的算什么鸟儿？”胖子忽然喊道，气得面红耳赤。

“就是一只鸟儿！”

“什么鸟儿？”

“这种鸟儿。”

“到底是什么样的？”

“就是这样的。”

“到底是什么样的？”

他们彼此怒目而视。胖子握紧拳头，等待回答，仿佛立刻就要冲上去打架似的。我真以为这一回可要大打出手了。这对我来说是件新鲜事儿，我好奇地注视着。后来才知道，这种场面是完全无害的，实际上从不会真的以打架收场。这一幕很典型，生动地反映了犯人们在狱中的行为方式。

大个子泰然而威严地站着。他知道犯人们都在盯着他，等着瞧他的回答是否会让自己丢脸；他必须维护自己的名声，证明自己的确是一只鸟儿，而且说明是一只什么样的鸟儿。他带着难以描述的轻蔑表情斜觑对方，仿佛是在看一只小甲虫，竭力使对手蒙受最大的耻辱，然后慢慢地、清晰地说道：

“斗鸡的头儿！……”

这就是说，这里他说了算。一阵哄堂大笑以佩服这个囚犯随机应变的本事。

“你是个流氓，才不是什么头儿！”胖子吼叫道，他感到自己丢了脸，不禁勃然大怒。

但是，一到双方当真吵闹起来的时候，便立刻被制止了。

“你们穷嚷嚷什么！”囚室里的人全都冲着他们俩喊道。

“你们打上一场，也比扯着嗓子嚷嚷要好！”角落里有人喊。

“就今天了，”有人应声道，“我们这儿的人可什么都不怕，七个对一个……”

“两个真是一对儿啊，是不是！一个因为偷了一条面包进的监狱，另一个当了逃兵被抓进来。”

“好了，好了，你们闹够了吗！”一个残废老兵喊道。他住在这儿是为了维持囚室的秩序，因此睡在屋角一张单人床上。

“小子们，打水来！老兵彼特罗维奇起床啦！给彼特罗维奇的水，亲爱的老兄！”

“老兄……我是你哪门子老兄？我们连一个卢布的酒都没在一起喝过，算什么老兄！”残废老兵一边嘟哝着，一边伸胳膊去穿大衣。

准备点名了。天刚亮，伙房里乱哄哄挤满了人，简直寸步难行。囚犯们都穿着羊皮袄，戴着两色的皮帽，围挤在一起等伙夫给他们切面包。伙夫是由囚犯们公推出来的，每个伙房两人。他们负责看守菜刀，一间伙房配一把刀，既切面包又切肉。每个角落里，每张桌子旁都挤满了囚犯，戴着皮帽，穿着羊皮袄，系着腰带，准备马上出工干活。有些人面前摆着盛满格瓦斯的木碗，他们把面包掰碎了泡进格瓦斯里吃。吵嚷和喧哗令人难以忍受；但也有人蹲在角落里低声交谈。

“安东内奇老头，早安，祝您胃口好！”一个年轻囚犯说着，在一个眉头紧锁、没了牙的老年囚犯身边坐下。

“嗯，早安，你开玩笑吧，”老人说着，眼皮也不抬一下，正用那无牙的牙床使劲嚼着面包。

“安东内奇，我还以为你死了呢，真的。”

“没有，你先死吧，我以后再死……”

我坐在他们旁边。在我右手边，两个囚犯正在谈话，他们两个显然都竭力要在对方面前保持自己的尊严。

“没人能从我这儿偷走任何东西，”其中一个说道，“我偷了他们的东西还差不多。”

“嘿，手离我的钱远点儿，不然我会让他们倒霉的。”

“倒霉？得了，你不过是个坐牢的罢了，跟我们都一样；咱们都是吃牢饭的……她能当着你的面把你的钱掏光的。我的最后一个铜板儿就是这么交待了。前几天她亲自来啦。我能同她到哪儿去？我去找刽子手费季卡，这家伙在城郊有一座房子，是从恶棍所罗门那儿买来的，就是后来上吊的那个犹太人。”

“我知道他。三年前他在我们这里卖过伏特加，外号叫黑店格力什卡。我知道。”

“你知道个鬼啊；黑店是别人的外号。”

“不！你知道什么啊。我能给你找来很多证人……”

“什么？你从哪儿找，你知道我是谁吗？”

“我还不知道你是谁？嘿，你被我揍到半死，这可不是吹牛，你还问我知不知道你是谁！”

“揍到半死，有意思。能揍我的那个人还没生下来呢；想揍我的人早就趴下了。”

“你这个鼠疫佬。”

“祝你得西伯利亚的炭疽。”

“祝你被土耳其军刀砍死！”

于是两人对骂起来。

“哎呀呀，又吵起来啦！”周围的人喊道，“自由自在的日子你们不会过，倒乐意到这儿吃牢饭……”

两个人立刻安静下来。骂骂街、磨磨牙是允许的。这多少还能给大家解解闷儿。但是，打架可不是任何时候都许可的，只有在特殊情况下，两个对手才会真正厮打起来。打架是要被报告给少校的，一报告就会有搜查，少校还要亲自来——总而言之，这样对大家都不利，所以打架是不被允许的。两个仇敌互相骂上几句，也多半是为了消遣，为了练练舌头。他们常常自己欺骗自己，开头的时候火冒三丈，暴跳如雷，你也许以为他们真要打起来了；其实根本不会，闹到一定程度，他们就立刻各自走开。起初，这一切让我感到非常惊讶。我在这儿故意引用了一段苦役犯们最平常的谈话做例子。刚开始我不能理解，他们怎么能为了取乐而互相咒骂，并从中得到乐趣、惬意和快感呢？还有，不能不考虑他们的虚荣心。这一类咒骂的争辩是带着敬意的；他几乎要像演员那样得到鼓掌喝彩。

我从昨晚就察觉到，他们在拿白眼斜瞟我。

我已经看到几道阴森森的目光。另一方面，有一些囚犯在我身边走来走去，猜想我身上一定有钱，于是立刻巴结起来：教我怎样戴新脚镣，给我弄来一个带锁的小箱子（当然是要付钱的），以便收藏公家发给我的东西以及我带进狱中的几件衣服。第二天，他们便把这箱子偷走换酒喝了。其中一个犯人后来成了我最忠实可靠的狱友，不过一有方便的机会他还是要偷我的东西。他这样做一点儿都不感到羞愧，几乎是不自觉的，好像这是他的天性，因而也就不能生他的气了。

除此以外，他们还告诉我应该有茶喝，拥有一把属于自己的茶壶不是什么坏事；于是他们租给我一把壶，并给我介绍了一个伙夫，说只要我每月付给他三十个戈比，我想吃什么，他就给我做什么，还能按我的要求去采购……不消说，他们都向我借钱；仅仅在我抵达的头一天，他们每个人都三番两次来找我借钱。

一般来说，监狱里的人都阴沉而冷淡地瞧着贵族出身的囚犯。

尽管这些贵族已经被剥夺了一切权利，已经和其他囚犯完全一样，可是那些囚犯们从不认为他们是自己的难友。之所以会这样，并非出于有意的成见，而完全是出于无意的本能。他们从内心里认为我们是贵族，尽管他们自己也喜欢拿我们的没落来奚落我们。

“唉，够啦，都完啦！彼得当初在莫斯科威风凛凛，如今彼得只好搓绳子。”他们常说这一类的风凉话。

他们看着我们受苦而幸灾乐祸，尽管我们竭力不在他们面前流露出痛苦。我们在干活的时候特别受罪，因为我们没有他们那么强的体力，而且根本帮不上他们。再没有比赢得普通人（特别是他们这样的人）的信任并博得他们的爱戴更困难的了。

苦役犯中有几个是贵族出身。首先是五个波兰人。关于他们，我以后还要专门讲到。犯人们最不喜欢波兰人，觉得他们比俄国贵族出身的流放犯更可恶。波兰人（我说的是政治犯）沉默寡言，在其他囚犯面前也掩饰不住他们的厌恶；囚犯们对这一点也很清楚，于是他们也就以其人之道还治其人之身。

我在监狱里住了将近两年以后，才博得了某些囚犯的好感。到最后，大部分囚犯都喜欢上我，并承认我是个“好”人。

除了我以外，监狱里还有四个俄国贵族。其中一个是个卑鄙的恶棍，他很下作，为了钱当上了探子和告密者。在抵达这里之前我就听说了他，因此我与他几乎没有任何来往。另外一个就是我提到的那个弑父者。第三个是阿基姆·阿基梅奇；我很少见过像阿基姆·阿基梅奇这样的怪人。他给我留下了极其深刻的印象。他身材又高又瘦，思维迟钝，大字不识一个，天生喜欢争辩，像德国人那样一丝不苟。囚犯们常常嘲笑他，有些人甚至害怕和他接触，因为他眼里揉不下沙子，为人苛刻，而且爱吵架。他常常把别的犯人骂个狗血喷头，甚至打起来。他又非常诚实。如果看见什么不平事，他会立刻站出来，哪怕此事跟他毫无关系。他极其天真：比如，他和别的犯人斗嘴时，常常责备他们是贼，还一本正经地劝他们别再偷了。他曾经在高加索当过中尉。从我入狱头一天起，我们就相处得挺好，因而他立即把自己的案情告诉了我。起初，他在高加索一个步兵团当士官生，在那里苦熬了多年才提升为军官，后来他被派到一个要塞当指挥官。一个友邻部落的首领放火烧了他们的要塞，并实施夜袭，但失败了。阿基姆·阿基梅奇耍了个滑头，佯装不知道罪犯是谁，还把这件事推到一些敌方部落身上。又过了一个月，阿基姆·阿基梅奇友好地邀请那位友邻首领来要塞做客。首领毫不犹豫地来了。阿基姆·阿基梅奇让手下的兵士列队站好；他当众揭露并痛斥了那个首领，批判放火烧要塞是多么的可耻。接着他长篇大论地指出这个首领今后应当怎么办，最后枪决了他，并立即将整件事的详情呈报上级。就这样，阿基姆·阿基梅奇受到审讯，并被判处死刑，但他获得减刑，被发配西伯利亚服苦役十二年。他完全承认他做得不对，他告诉我，在枪决那个首领之前他就知道这样做不妥，也知道要处罚友邻的首领只能通过法律的手段；尽管这些他都清楚，但他怎么都不真正地认为自己有罪：

“那小子没有放火烧我的要塞吗？难道还要我向他鞠躬道谢不成！”每当面对异议时，他都这样回答。

尽管犯人们嘲笑阿基姆·阿基梅奇的死心眼，但也敬重他干活认真又手巧。

没有哪种手艺是阿基姆·阿基梅奇不会的。他是木匠、修鞋匠、油漆匠、镀金匠、小铁匠，这种种手艺都是在狱中学会的。他不论干什么都能无师自通：只要看一遍，就能学会。他还会做各式各样的小匣子、小篮子和孩子们的玩具，并拿到城里去卖。就这样，每当他赚到一点钱，就会立即购置几件衬衫、内衣、较软的枕头，或者是可折叠的床垫之类。他和我住在同一间囚室，在我服役初期给了我很多帮助。

囚犯们外出干活时，都要在看守室门口排成两行，前后都站着荷枪实弹的卫兵。军士、技术员，还有一些低级别的监工都来了。军士给囚犯们点过名，把他们一批批分派到各自干活的地方去。

我同另外几个人被派到作坊去干活。这是一座低矮的石头房子，坐落在一个堆满各种材料的大院里。这里有锻工作坊、钳工作坊、木工作坊、油漆作坊等等。阿基姆·阿基梅奇也被派到这里，他在油漆作坊干活，熬油料、调色、油漆木桌子和其他家具，让它们看起来像是胡桃木的。

在等着钉新脚镣时，我跟阿基姆·阿基梅奇谈起在监狱的最初印象。

“是呀，他们是不喜欢贵族，”他说，“尤其不喜欢政治犯，恨不能一口把他吃掉。这也不足为奇。你是另一种人，跟他们不一样，他们过去不是地主的农奴，就是当兵的。你自己想想看，他们怎能喜欢你呢？我跟你照实说吧，在这里生活不容易。可是，在俄国的军犯连里就更困难了。我们这儿有一些人是从那里来的，他们一个劲儿地夸我们监狱，简直就像从地狱来到了天堂。倒霉的还不是干活，而是麻烦。他们说，那边的监管人不像是军人，至少做派不像。他们说，那边的犯人可以住在自己的小屋里。我没去过那儿，都是听他们这样说的。他们那边不剃头，也不穿囚服；不过话说回来，剃头和穿囚服倒也不坏，这样总算整齐些，看着也顺眼些。只是他们都不喜欢这样做。唉，您瞧瞧，他们真是一群乌合之众啊！这个是世袭兵〔4〕，那个是切尔克斯人，那里还有分裂派教徒，还有一个是信奉东正教的农民，他把自己的家庭、可爱的儿女们都丢在老家了；这里有犹太人，有吉卜赛人，还有那个，天知道他是什么人——无论如何，他们都凑到了一块儿，彼此迁就，一口锅里吃饭，一个通铺睡觉。一点自由都没有：如果你多弄到一点食物，就只能偷偷吃，哪怕有一文钱也得藏在靴筒里，这里的世界就是监狱，监狱……你脑袋里难免会冒出来一些滑稽的念头。”

不过这些我都已经知道了。我特别想打听一下那位少校的情况。阿基姆·阿基梅奇倒没有向我保密，我还记得从他的描述中，我得到的印象并不十分令人愉快。

可是我还得在他的管辖之下再熬上两年。阿基姆·阿基梅奇给我讲述的关于他的一切，后来证明都是完全真实的，所不同的只是，从现实中得到的印象总比一般的叙述中得到的印象更为深刻。他的可怕之处在于，像他这样的人居然拥有对两百多号人随意处置的无限权力。就他本人来说，最多不过是一个头脑混乱、举止失措的人罢了。他把囚犯一律看成他的天然仇敌。这是他的第一个、也是主要的错误。他确实有些本事，但是一切东西，甚至好的东西，在他身上都被搞得不成样子。恶毒的本性加上缺乏自控力，他有时甚至夜里闯进囚室，倘若看见某个犯人左侧着身子或者仰面而卧，第二天早上就要惩罚那个人：“要按照我的吩咐，右侧着身子睡觉。”他在监狱里像瘟疫一样遭人憎恨，惹人恐惧。他紫赯脸，凶相毕露。大家都知道，他完全被自己的勤务兵费吉卡控制在手心里。他最疼爱的是他那条被唤作特列佐卡的狮子狗。有一次特列佐卡生病了，他心疼得几乎发了疯。据说，他抱头大哭一场，像哭亲儿子一样；他把一个兽医给轰走了，按照习惯，还差点揍了那人一顿；他听费吉卡说，狱里有一个犯人是土兽医，医术非常高明，他立刻把那个犯人叫来。

“救救我的狗！我叫你发一笔大财，只要你能把特列佐卡给治好就行！”他对那个囚犯喊道。

这个囚犯是一个西伯利亚农民，他狡猾聪明，确实是一个不错的兽医，但又是个地道的乡下人。

“我看了看特列佐卡，”后来过了很久，在这件事已经被忘记的时候，他对别的犯人讲起来，“我一看，狮子狗正在沙发的白垫子上躺着；我一眼就瞧出来，这条狗患的是炎症，放点血就会好的。可是，我心里想：要是治不好，要是狗死了呢？我便说：‘大人，不行啦，您给耽误啦，要是昨天或者前天把我叫来，我还可以把狗治好，可现在不行啦……’”

特列佐卡就这样死掉了。

人们还告诉我一次刺杀少校的事件。狱里有一个囚犯，被关在这里已经有好几年了。他举止温和，几乎从不和任何人说话。大家都认为他有点儿傻头傻脑。他认识字，最近一年来，他总是读圣经，白天黑夜地读。当大家都睡熟了的时候，他就在半夜爬起来，点上一支教堂里敬神用的蜡烛，爬上暖炉，打开书，一直读到天亮。有一天，他去找看守长，说他不想出去干活。看守长把这件事报告了少校，少校勃然大怒，立刻闯进囚室。这个犯人用事先准备好的一块砖猛砸少校的头，但没有砸中。他被抓了起来，审讯后受了刑罚。这一切都发生得很突然。三天后，他就死在医院里了。弥留之际，他说，他对任何人都不怀恶意，是他自己甘愿受苦的。不过，他并不属于任何宗教分裂派。监狱里的人都怀着尊敬的心情缅怀他。

我终于换好了脚镣。这时已有好几个卖面包圈儿的女人陆续来到作坊。其中有几个是很年轻的女孩子。她们通常都是带着面包圈儿来；母亲在家里烤，她们带来卖。成年以后，她们仍继续来，但已经不是带面包圈儿了；事情几乎总是这样的。其中有几个女人并不年轻。面包圈儿很便宜，几乎所有囚犯都买得起。

我看到有个犯人，他是个木匠，头发已经花白，但红光满面，正笑嘻嘻地和那些卖面包圈的女人调情。在她们进来以前，他刚把一条红毛巾系在脖子上。一个满脸麻子的胖女人把托盘放在他的工作台上。他们聊起来。

“你昨天怎么没来呀？”那个囚犯扬扬得意地笑着说。

“什么？我来啦，可你连个影子都没有，”女人冲口答道。

“我们被叫去干活儿啦，要不然，我们一定会在这儿等的……还有啊，前天你们那帮人来过了。”

“谁，是谁？”

“玛利亚什卡来过，哈芙罗什卡来过，还有切孔达，杜格罗什瓦亚……”

“这是怎么回事？”我问阿基姆·阿基梅奇，“是真的吗？”

“是有这种事，”他答道，然后谦恭地低下头，他是个非常纯洁的人。

这种事情当然有过，但很少见，而且很难办到。一般来说，尽管过着这种极其艰苦的生活，他们宁肯酗酒，而不愿搞这种事情。女人是很难搞到的。需要选择时间、地点，事先约好，找个隐蔽的地方，最难的是还要避开卫兵，通常来说这需要花上一大笔钱。话虽这么说，可是后来我竟多次做了桃色事件的见证人。我记得夏季的某一天，我们三个人在额尔齐斯河岸的一个板棚里烧窑；卫兵们人都不错。最后，两个被囚犯叫作“荡妇”的女人来了。

“喂，你们一直在哪儿？我打赌，是去茨维尔科夫家了吧？”她们要找的那个犯人一见面就这样问，他已经等她们很久了。

“一直？一只喜鹊蹲在木橛子上的时间都比我在他们那里待的时间还长呢。”女人愉快地答道。

这是我所见过的最肮脏的少女。她就是切孔达。同她一块儿来的就是杜格罗什瓦亚，她丑得简直难以形容。

“好久没看见你了，”情郎转身对杜格罗什瓦亚说，“你好像瘦了点？”

“也许吧。过去我太胖啦，现在我就像吞了一根针。”

“老是上大兵那儿去吗？”

“不，这都是那些坏人向您嚼舌头；不过，这又有什么？虽说他一个子儿都没有，我也丢不下我的兵小子！”

“你抛掉他们，爱我们吧，我们有钱……”

为了令这幅景象更加完整，不妨再想象一下那位情郎的尊容：头发被剃去一半，戴着脚镣，穿着条纹囚服，还有一个卫兵在监视他。

当我听说我可以回监狱的时候，便向阿基姆·阿基梅奇告别，由一个卫兵押送着回去。囚犯们大都回来了。那些干计件活的囚犯回来得最早。唯一能使犯人们卖力干活的办法就是计件。有时，分配给他们的计件活是很繁重的，但他们还是能比强迫他们一直干到敲午饭鼓快两倍。囚犯们干完计件活以后，就可以通行无阻地回到狱中，任何人都不阻拦他们。

囚犯们并不同时吃晚饭，而是谁先到谁先吃；否则伙房一下子也容纳不下这么多人。我尝了一口菜汤，实在不习惯，喝不下去，于是便沏了茶。我们在桌子的一头坐下。我有一位像我一样贵族出身的同伴。

囚犯们不断出出进进。屋里还很空，犯人还没有全部回来。有五个人围在一张大桌子旁边坐下。伙夫给他们盛上两碗菜汤，然后又把满满一碗煎鱼放在桌上。他们在庆祝什么，特意点了小灶饭。他们斜眼看看我们。

“我虽然不在家，可什么事都知道，”一个大个子囚犯走进伙房，一面打量着所有在座的人，一面大声嚷嚷。

此人大约五十岁上下，瘦但是有肌肉。他脸上露出狡黠而愉快的表情。那下垂的厚嘴唇特别引人注意，使他的脸显得滑稽。

“喂，你们夜里都睡得好哇？怎么不互相问好？我的库尔斯克朋友们！”他坐在那些正在吃小灶的人旁边，继续说，“祝你们胃口好！我可以来做客吗？”

“老兄，我们可不是库尔斯克人。”

“那么是托波尔斯克人喽？”

“也不是托波尔斯克人。老兄，你从我们身上什么油水也捞不到。你去找有钱的好啦，向他们伸伸手。”

“老兄，现在魏（胃）公子和常（肠）小姐正在我肚子里闹腾呢；你说的有钱人，他住在哪儿啊？”

“嘿，卡津就是有钱人，找他去吧。”

“兄弟，今天卡津找乐子，钱包准都喝空了。”

“二十卢布还是有的，”另一个接着说。

“卖酒的有钱。”

“这么说你们不招待客人吗？那我只好去吃牢饭啦。”

“你去跟那两位老爷要杯茶喝呗。”

“什么老爷，这里可没有什么老爷；现在他们和我们一样啦。”一个坐在墙角的囚犯闷声说。他直到现在还没说过一句话。

“我倒喜欢喝茶，可是不好意思开口；我们也有自尊心啊。”那个厚嘴唇囚犯一边说，一边温和地望着我们。

“如果你想喝，我给你倒一杯。”我一边说，一边请他过来，“想喝吗？”

“想喝吗？怎么好拒绝啊！”他走到桌前。

“看看他！在家里拿皮鞋喝汤，在这儿倒学会喝茶啦；而且还想喝老爷们的茶。”那个墙角的囚犯说。

“这里都不喝茶吗？”我问他。但他没有回答我。

“瞧，面包圈儿来啦。再来个面包圈儿怎么样？”

面包圈儿拿进来了。一个年轻囚犯提着一大串面包圈儿在监狱里兜售。烤面包圈儿的女人答应他每卖掉十个就能留下一个；他就算计着那个呢。

“面包圈儿，面包圈儿！”他一面往伙房里走，一面喊，“莫斯科面包圈儿，刚出炉热乎的！本想留着自己吃，可是等钱用。喂，伙计们，就剩一个啦！你们谁有母亲啊？”

他招呼大家去孝敬母亲的做法把人们都逗笑了，于是他的面包圈儿一下子卖出去好几个。

“喂，弟兄们，”他说，“我看今天卡津喝酒非闹出乱子来不可。上帝保佑他。居然在这个时候喝起酒来，说不定会把八只眼招来。”

“别人会替他瞒过去的。怎么，他醉得很厉害吗？”

“可厉害啦！凶得很，老是纠缠人。”

“嘿，这么说是快动拳头啦……”

“他们说的是谁？”我问坐在我旁边的那个波兰人。

“是卡津，一个囚犯。他在这里卖伏特加，赚上几个钱就马上拿去喝酒。他很残忍、凶狠，不过清醒的时候倒很安静；他一喝醉了就现原形，有时还要拿刀伤人。不过，马上就会有人制服他的。”

“怎么制服？”

“十个八个囚犯一起冲上去，狠狠揍他一顿，直到他失去知觉为止，把他打个半死。然后把他放在通铺上，给他盖上皮袄。”

“万一打死怎么办？”

“要是换了别人，真会被打死的，可是卡津不会。他结实得要命，比狱中任何人都结实，体格像头公牛。第二天早晨一起床，他就没事了。”

“请告诉我，”我继续问那个波兰人，“他们也是吃小灶，我只不过喝点儿茶，他们就眼巴巴地望着我，好像是嫉妒我这杯茶似的。这是怎么一回事？”

“这不是因为茶，”波兰人答道，“他们之所以不喜欢你，是因为你是贵族，和他们不一样。他们当中很多人都想找你的碴儿。他们巴不得能侮辱你，欺负你。你在这里还会遇到许多不愉快的事情。在这里过日子可难得很哪。可无论从哪个方面来说，我们都比他们困难得多。你要非常超然，才能习惯这里的生活。就为了喝茶和单独吃小灶，你往后还会不断遇到麻烦，遭人咒骂呢，尽管这里有许多人也常常吃小灶，有些人也天天喝茶，但他们可以，我们却不行。”

说完这些，他便起身离桌而去；几分钟后，他的话果然应验了。

最初印象（2）

米－茨基——就是跟我说话的那个波兰人——刚走，酩酊大醉的卡津便摇摇晃晃闯进伙房来了。

一个囚犯，在光天化日之下，在犯人都必须出工干活的平常日子里，在随时可能来监狱检查的典狱长的严格管辖下，在专管犯人事务、从不离开监狱一步的军士的监督下，在看守和残废老兵的监视之下——总而言之，在这一切严格措施之下，竟然喝得酩酊大醉，这就把我头脑中刚刚形成的关于囚犯生活的种种看法全给弄乱了。看来我还得在狱中住很长一段时间才能把我初来乍到感到莫名其妙的那些事全部搞清楚。

我已经说过，囚犯总是有自己的私活可干，而这种私活乃是苦役生活的自然需求；除了这种需求之外，囚犯们都爱钱如命，把金钱看得高于一切，几乎把钱与自由等同起来，如果衣兜里有铜板响，他们便感到心安；相反，若是没有钱，他们便灰心丧气、郁郁寡欢、心神不宁、无精打采，这时他们便准备去偷，或者干别的勾当，只要能弄到钱就行。尽管金钱在监狱里如此宝贵，但是那些有幸弄到钱的人并非总能把钱保存很久。首先，要想使钱不被别人偷走或被没收，那是非常困难的。倘若少校突然搜查发现了小金库，就会立刻把钱没收。也许，他会用这些钱去改善囚犯伙食；不管怎么说，反正钱是被他拿去了。然而最常见的还是被偷：狱中的人没有一个是可靠的。后来，我们发现了一个十分安全的保管方法：把钱托给一个年迈的旧教徒保管。那个旧教徒是从以前维特克人的斯塔罗杜布旧教徒村〔5〕来的……关于这个老人，我不能不在这儿多说几句，尽管有点儿离题。

他年纪约六十岁，头发斑白，身材矮小。第一次见到他时，就给我留下了深刻的印象。他一点儿也不像其他囚犯：他的目光有一种安详平和。我记得，我当时怀着一种说不出来的愉快心情端详他那双布满皱纹的、清澈明亮的眼睛。我常常跟他谈话，我一生中很少遇见像他这样善良而又温和的人。他是为了一件非常重要的案件而被流放到这里的。斯塔罗杜布的旧教徒中间有些人改变了信仰，政府大力支持他们，并竭力进一步改变其他旧教徒的信仰。这位老人同其他一些热衷于旧教的人便决心像他说的那样“维护信仰”。当时正在兴建一座皈一教〔6〕教堂，他们放火把它烧了。老人作为主谋者之一被判处流放和服苦役。他本是一个家境殷实的小商人，家里有妻子儿女；但他怀着一颗坚强不屈的心去接受流放，因为他盲目地认为这是“殉教”。和他一起生活了一段时间以后，你会情不自禁自问：像这样一个温顺得像个小孩的人，怎么会起来造反呢？我曾几次和他谈过“信仰”。他在自己的信仰上毫不让步，却从未流露出任何怨恨和敌意。他的确破坏了教堂，而且并不否认。看来根据他的信仰，他想必还认为自己的行动和为此而遭受的痛苦是一种光荣。但是，无论怎样研究他，我在他身上都从未发现一点点的虚荣和骄傲。我们监狱里还关押着一些别的旧教徒，其中大部分是西伯利亚人。他们都是一些聪明狡猾的乡下人，狂热地诵读圣经，咬文嚼字，又好争辩；这些人都狂妄自大，而且十分固执褊狭。可是这位老人却完全不同。虽然他对圣经的理解比其他人都深得多，但他却避免争论。他喜欢与人交流；性情愉快，笑声不断——他的笑声不像其他犯人那样粗鄙，而是爽朗文雅，有一种孩子般的天真，似乎与他那斑白的头发极为相称。也许我的看法是错的，但我总觉得可以从笑声中识别一个人。如果你跟一个陌生人初次相遇，他的笑声令你感到愉悦，那可以大胆地说，他是一个好人。尽管这位老人博得了全监狱人的尊敬，但他却一点也不自负。囚犯们都叫他老爷爷，而且从不欺侮他。我也多多少少明白他为什么会对自己的教友有这么大的影响。尽管他显然以坚定的意志忍受着苦役生活的痛苦，但他内心里却隐藏着一种深邃而又无法治愈的忧伤，他竭力掩饰这忧伤不让他人知道。我和他住在同一间囚室。有一次，我在凌晨三点醒来，听见有人在竭力压制着低声啜泣。只见老人正坐在暖炉上（过去那个读圣经读得入迷，而且想杀死少校的囚犯，夜里常常在这个暖炉上祈祷）对着手抄的圣经祈祷。他哭了，断断续续地能听见他在说：“主啊，不要抛弃我啊！主啊，给我力量吧！我的孩子们，我亲爱的孩子们，我们再也不能见面了！”我无法描述当时的悲怆心情。渐渐地，几乎所有囚犯都开始把自己的钱交给老人保管。监狱里几乎所有囚犯都是小偷，可是不知为什么，大家都相信这位老人是绝不会偷东西的。大家都知道他把别人交给他的钱藏在了什么地方，一个谁也找不着的秘密地点。后来，他对我和几个波兰人揭示了他的秘密：在栅栏的一根柱子上有一个树枝，从外表上看好像是牢牢地长在树干上，但若是把它拿下来，树干上便出现一个深洞。老人就把钱藏在这儿，然后再把树枝插上，因此谁都永远无法找到任何东西。

不过我已经离题太远了。我一直在考虑一个问题，为什么钱在这些囚犯的口袋里待不长。除了难以保存这个原因之外，更重要的是监狱里的生活太苦闷；这些囚犯生来就是一些十分渴望自由的人，而且由于其社会地位，他们又极其轻率、不顾死活，因而“享受享受”的冲动常常令他们恣意妄为，狂欢滥饮，在喧闹中忘却自己的苦闷，哪怕只忘却一两分钟也好。他们中有些人可以拼命干活干上好几个月，唯一的目的就是有朝一日把挣来的钱拿去喝光，喝到一个子儿都不剩，然后再为下一次痛饮苦干几个月。他们中有许多人喜欢买新衣服，而且一定是普通人穿的便服：黑色裤子，短大衣，西伯利亚式衬衫。最时髦的装束是棉罩衫外面扎上一条嵌着铜钉饰的皮带。他们在节日里穿戴起来，然后到所有囚室里逛，炫耀自己。有的人穿上新衣服后高兴得像个孩子，确实，在许多事情上，囚犯们都完全像是一些小孩。诚然，所有这些好东西有时忽然就不再为其所有了，甚至在当天晚上就被非常便宜地典押或卖掉。狂饮是渐渐蔓延开的。一般来说，节假日或过命名日〔7〕的时候比较合适。过命名日的囚犯早晨一起床就在圣像前点上蜡烛祷告，然后穿戴整齐，为自己订一份午餐小灶。他会点牛肉和鱼，还有西伯利亚馄饨——肉馅的；他像一头公牛一样大吃大嚼，而且几乎总是独自享受，很少邀请难友共进午餐。过一会儿，伏特加端上来了，他会喝得烂醉如泥，然后摇摇摆摆地到各囚室里走一趟，竭力向人们显示他喝醉了，他是在“找乐子”，借以博得众人的羡慕。不论在哪里，俄国人对喝醉酒的人多少都抱有恻隐之心，而在监狱里，酒鬼甚至会受到尊敬。监狱里的狂饮仿佛带有一种贵族派头。开怀畅饮的犯人还要雇一个人给他奏乐。狱中有个身材矮小的波兰人，是个逃兵，十分令人讨厌，但他会拉小提琴，而且有乐器——他的全部财产。他不会任何手艺，唯一能赚钱的办法就是替喝酒的囚犯演奏。他的职责是一步不离地跟随着喝得醉醺醺的雇主走进各个囚室，不停地拉小提琴。他脸上常常流露出无聊和沮丧的表情。但是那“拉呀，你收过钱啦！”的喊叫声逼着他又拼命拉起琴来。雇主从一开始狂饮就相信，如果他喝醉了，一定会有人照顾他，若是狱方有人来了，也一定会有人及时把他藏起来，把他扶上床，而且这一切都丝毫不是为了私利。至于居住在狱中的值日官和残废老兵，虽然他们的责任是维持狱中秩序，但他们也尽可以放心，因为喝醉了的囚犯是不会闹出什么乱子的。全囚室的犯人都注视着他，如果他发起酒疯或者动手打人，立刻就会有人把他制服，甚至会把他手脚捆绑起来。因此监狱里的一般管理人员对此也就睁一只眼闭一只眼了。他们十分清楚地知道，倘若不许喝酒，那就会更糟。那么酒究竟是怎么弄进来的呢？

在监狱里，酒是从所谓“酒保”那里买来的。做酒保的只有那么几个人，他们的生意十分兴隆，尽管酗酒和“狂欢”的人总的来说并不多；喝酒需要钱，而囚犯的钱来之不易。酒保的经营之道相当独特。比如有的囚犯，既不会手艺，又不愿意干活（这样的人确实有），但是他急不可耐地想弄到钱，而且想尽快发一笔财。他弄到了一点儿本钱，便决计做卖酒的生意：卖酒是一种冒险的营生，要担很大风险。他可能会为此受鞭笞，货物和本钱也会被全部没收。但是，酒保甘愿冒这样的风险。一开始，他的钱并不多，所以第一次只好亲自把酒带进监狱，当然，酒一旦卖掉就能赚很多钱。于是他便带第二次，第三次，若是不被狱方查获，他的生意便很快兴隆起来，这时他就创建了有坚实基础的真正的营生——他成了企业主、资本家、雇佣代理人和助手。他冒的风险越来越少，而钱越赚越多，他的助手们甘愿为他去冒风险。

监狱里总有很多人把钱花在赌博和饮酒作乐上，最后囊空如洗。这些人都不会手艺，穿得破破烂烂，显得很可怜，但浑身是胆。这些人所剩下的唯一资本就是他们的脊背了；脊背对他们可能还有某种用处，于是那个把一切都挥霍殆尽的浪子决定利用它。这时他便会去找酒保，受雇往狱中运酒；一个富有的酒保往往要雇佣几名这样的助手。监狱外面某处有这么一个人——也许是士兵，也许是小商人，有时候甚至是个女人——为了得到一笔相当可观的佣金，便用酒保的钱在酒馆里把伏特加买好，藏在囚犯干活时路过的一个僻静地方。经手人几乎总是先尝尝酒的质量，然后铁石心肠地把水掺进喝剩的酒里。至于买主要不要，他就不管了，须知一个囚犯是不能过于挑剔的，因为钱总是没白花，他买到了酒，不管酒味如何，但毕竟是酒啊。狱中的酒保预先指定雇工带着牛肠子去找经手人接头。这些牛肠子都洗刷过，然后灌满水，以便保持原有的湿度和弹性，用于盛酒。牛肠子装满酒以后，囚犯便把它缠在身上，尽量藏在身上最隐蔽的地方。不消说，这需要走私人施展浑身解数，把做贼的一切手段都拿出来。这多多少少关系到他的名誉：他必须把卫兵和看守瞒哄过去。他欺骗他们：看守若是个新兵，总会被一个机灵的贼蒙骗过去。当然，他要事先对看守做一番研究，对干活的时间和地点也要考虑周全。比如，如果囚犯是个瓦匠，他在砌砖炉的时候爬进炉子里，又有谁能看得见他在那里干什么呢？看守是不会跟着他爬进去的。进监狱大门的时候，为了预防万一，他们往往把钱——十五或者二十个银戈比——攥在手里，在大门口等着下士。干活回来的每一个囚犯，一般都要由下士搜身以后，才开门放他进去。带酒的人一般都指望下士不要过于仔细地摸他身上某些部位。但有时候下士硬要摸那些部位，藏的酒就暴露了。这时便只剩下最后一招：犯人一声不响地避开看守，悄悄把手里攥着的钱塞到下士手里。使用这种策略，常常能把酒安然无恙地带进监狱里。但这种办法有时也不奏效，那时就只好付出自己最后的资本——脊背了。事情报告给少校，脊背受到狠狠的鞭刑，酒被充公，但走私人会把一切都扛下来，不会出卖酒保；他之所以不出卖雇主，并不是因为他不屑于告密，主要是因为告密对他不利：反正他已经受了鞭笞，若是他和雇主两人都受刑，他可能会感到宽慰，但他还需要雇主，虽然按照惯例和事先约定，雇工受鞭笞，雇主是不会付一个子儿的。至于一般的告密，那是很普遍的事。在监狱里，告密者丝毫不感到羞耻，人们是不会对告密者感到愤怒的。他不但不会被疏远，人们反而乐于同他交朋友，如果你在监狱里想要证明告密是卑鄙可耻的事，那人们完全不会理解你。那个堕落的贵族，也就是我完全没有往来的那个囚犯，他和少校的勤务兵费吉卡交上了朋友，当上了暗探。而费吉卡又把自己听到的关于囚犯的一切情况向上校报告。这事我们都知道，但是从来没有一个人惩罚过这个坏蛋，甚至根本没想过要这么办。

又扯远了。当然，酒往往能顺利带进来；这时，酒保付完钱，便将牛肠子收下盘点。他盘算的结果是：这批货成本太高，为增加利润，他必须再掺一次水，几乎掺进一半的水。这时才算准备就绪，只等主顾光临了。在第一个节日，有时甚至就在干活的日子里，顾客来了：这个囚犯像头牛一样辛辛苦苦干了好几个月，攒了几个钱，就是为了在预定的某一天全部喝掉。还在这一天到来以前很久，这个可怜的受苦人不论是在梦中还是在干活时的幸福幻想中，都憧憬着这一天的到来，这一天的魅力使他精神振奋地忍受着枯燥无味的监狱生活。终于，这光明日子的曙光在东方出现了：他的钱积攒起来，没有被没收，于是他拿着钱去找酒保。起初，酒保倒给他的是尽可能纯的酒，也就是只掺过两次水的酒；但他每喝掉多少酒，酒保就往瓶子里灌多少水。在这里，一杯酒的价钱是外面酒馆的五六倍。可以想象，要喝到酩酊大醉的程度，需要喝多少杯，花多少钱啊！不过，由于已经很久没碰酒，所以囚犯们很快就喝醉了，但他照例要继续喝下去，直到把所有的钱都喝光为止。这时，他便把他所有的新衣服都拿出来：酒保同时还是当铺老板。送到酒保手中的，先是新购置的便服，然后是旧物，最后是狱方发的衣服。当囚犯把一切东西，连最后一块破布都当掉的时候，便躺下睡觉，第二天醒来，脑袋难免隐隐作痛，于是他又徒劳地请求酒保给他喝一口以解宿醉。他悲伤地忍受着痛苦，当天便又干起活来；他不停地再干上几个月，回味那一去不复返的幸福的酒乡，然后又渐渐振作起来，期待另一个相同的日子到来，那一天虽说还很遥远，但终究还会到来的。

至于酒保，他赚了一大笔钱（几十个卢布）之后，便囤下最后一份酒。这次可不能掺水了，因为那是给他自己喝的。他生意做够了，也该享受一番了。于是，一场吃喝玩乐、狂欢痛饮的闹剧又开始了。他的钱很多，就连监狱里的低级狱吏都向他献殷勤。这样的狂饮有时一连持续好几天。自然，他备下的酒不久就喝光了；这时这个酒徒就到别的酒保那里去买，那些酒保正在等着他呢。于是他继续喝，直到把最后一个戈比喝掉为止。不管囚犯们怎样保护他，但他有时仍被上级长官——看守长或者少校——发现。他被逮到拘留室去，身上若还有钱，便会被没收，最后还得挨一顿鞭子。打完以后他回到监狱，没过几天就又做起酒保的营生。这些酒徒中有一些有钱人，他们还梦想搞女人。有时他们花一大笔钱，便可在被收买的卫兵的监护下，以外出做工为名，从要塞被秘密带到城郊的什么地方。他们在小镇边上某个幽静的小房子里举行十分盛大的宴会，在那里确实需要花掉很大一笔钱。只要有钱，就连囚犯也不会受人轻视；他们往往事先选定一个有经验的卫兵，这样的卫兵往往就是未来的囚犯。总之，有钱就可以办到一切，像这样外出游逛几乎永远都是一个秘密。需要指出的是，这样的事是非常罕见的，因为需要花很多钱，然而那些渴求性爱的家伙却能想出一些别的方法，一些十分安全的办法。

早在我初进监狱时，有个长相俊俏的年轻犯人引起了我极大的兴趣。他叫西罗特金。他在许多方面都是一个令人捉摸不透的人物。首先使我感到惊奇的是他那漂亮的面孔；年纪不过二十三岁。他住在特别部，那是无期徒刑的犯人的囚室，这意味着，他被认为是最重要的军犯之一。他性情温顺平和，很少说话，也不常笑。他长着一双蓝眼睛，容貌端庄，面孔白皙而细嫩，头发呈浅褐色。就连那剃去半边头发的发型也未能使他的容貌变丑，他就是这样一个美少年。他什么手艺都不会，但手里总有些小钱。看得出来，他既懒惰又邋遢。不过偶尔也有人给他好衣服穿，有时还有红衬衫。西罗特金从不掩饰他对新衣服的喜爱：他常常换装出入各囚室，炫耀自己。他既不喝酒，也不赌牌，几乎没和任何人拌过嘴。他常在囚室后面散步，两只手插在裤兜里，显得安详而若有所思。很难猜测他在想什么。你若有时出于好奇叫他一声，问他点什么，他总是立刻回答你，声音恭恭敬敬，不像别的囚犯那样粗野，而且说话简洁扼要；还像个十来岁的少年一样瞧着你。他有钱时并不给自己买点儿什么必需品，比如把上衣送去修补或是买新皮靴，而是像个七八岁的孩子那样只知道买面包圈儿和饼干吃。“哎呀，西罗特金！”囚犯们有时对他说，“你真是个喀山〔8〕的孤儿呀！”不上工时，他常在别的囚室闲逛；别人几乎都在忙自己的活儿，只有他无事可做。人们跟他说话时，几乎总是嘲弄他（囚犯们常常这样取笑他和他的同伴），他便一言不发，转身向别的囚室走去；有时若是玩笑开得太厉害了，他也只是脸色绯红而已。我常常想，这样一个性情温和、心地单纯的人，怎么会落到监狱里呢？有一次，我因病住在医院的囚犯病房，西罗特金也病了，他的床位就在我旁边。一天晚上，我们聊起天来；他突然兴奋起来，无意中告诉我他是怎么被送去当兵的，他母亲送他走时如何痛哭流涕，他当新兵时多么痛苦等等。他还补充说，自己无论如何也受不了新兵生活，因为那里所有人都十分凶暴残忍，长官几乎总是对他不满意……

“结果怎么样？”我问道，“为什么把你弄到这儿来啦？而且还关在特别部……唉，你呀，西罗特金，西罗特金！”

“唉，亚历山大·彼得罗维奇，我在营里只当了一年兵；到这里来是因为我把我们的指挥官格里戈里·彼得罗维奇给杀了。”

“这我听说过，西罗特金，但是我不相信，像你这样的人，怎么会杀人呢？”

“事情就这样发生了，亚历山大·彼得罗维奇。我当时痛苦极了。”

“那么别的新兵怎样生活呢？当然，起初可能困难一点，但以后会习惯的，以后会成为一个好兵的。一定是你母亲把你给宠坏了；我打赌，她拿饼干和牛奶一直把你喂养到十八岁。”

“不错，我妈妈确实非常疼我，自从我被送去当兵以后，她就病倒了，听说再也没起过床……对我来说，新兵生活非常痛苦难熬。长官讨厌我，动不动就处罚我——这到底是因为什么呢？人人我都听从，规规矩矩生活，一滴酒都不沾，一分钱都不欠；要知道，亚历山大·彼得罗维奇，一个人要是欠债，那可不是一件好事情。周围的人心肠都那样残忍，想痛哭一场都找不到地方。有时只好跑到一个角落里，在那儿哭一阵。有一次我去站岗，那是在夜里；我被派到军械库旁边站岗。当时正刮大风；是秋天，天黑得伸手不见五指。我觉得自己太可悲了，太可悲了！我把枪立在脚旁，把刺刀解下来，放在一旁；我把右脚上的皮靴脱下了，把枪口对准胸口，用大脚趾扳动扳机。结果哑火了。我查看了一下枪，把火门擦干净，倒进去新火药，打着火石，再把枪口对着胸口，你猜怎么样？只见火光一闪，又没打响！我想，这到底是怎么一回事呀？我穿上皮靴，拿起枪，安上刺刀，一声不响地来回走了一会儿。这时我拿定主意干到底：不管把我弄到哪儿去都行，只要能离开这里就行！半小时以后，指挥官来查岗。他冲着我喊道：‘难道你就这样站岗吗？’我把枪端在手里，用刺刀刺他，整个刺刀都扎进去了。我挨了四千下鞭刑，最后来到这里，进了特别部……”

他没有撒谎。是的，要是犯了别的什么罪，还能把他关进特别部吗？如果是普通罪行，惩罚要轻得多。在同一类罪犯中，只有西罗特金是个美男子。像他这样的囚犯在我们这里约有十五个，这些人叫人看着都觉得奇怪；他们当中只有两三个人的面孔还能勉强看得过去，其余的全都耷拉着耳朵，外貌丑陋，邋遢肮脏；有几个头发已经白了。如果情况许可的话，以后我会对这个群体详加描述。西罗特金和卡津最要好，我在本章开头时就曾提及过，卡津如何喝得酩酊大醉，摇摇晃晃闯进伙房，他如何搅乱了我对监狱生活的最初看法。

这个卡津是个令人恐惧的人物。他给每个人留下的印象都是痛苦而可怕的。我总觉得，再没有比他更凶残、更荒诞的人了。我在托波尔斯克曾看见过一个以残暴著称的强盗卡缅涅夫；后来我还看见过一个候审的逃犯、可怕的杀人凶手索科洛夫。但是他们中间没有一个给我留下像卡津那样的印象。我有时仿佛看见我面前站着一个像人一般大的蜘蛛。卡津是鞑靼人，膂力过人，比狱中任何人都强壮；他个子也比一般人要高，有着大力士的体格，以及极不协调的硕大头颅；他走起路来稍微有点驼背，总是带着怀疑的表情。在监狱里，关于他有一些离奇的传闻：人们都知道他是军人出身，但囚犯们在背后都说他是从涅尔琴斯克跑出去的逃兵，我不知道这是否属实；据说他被流放到西伯利亚已经不止一次，逃跑也不止一次，他改过名，最后被关进我们监狱，进了特别部。还传说他喜欢杀小孩，只是为了取乐：他把小孩哄到某个便于下手的地方，吓唬，折磨，等他尽情地欣赏了这幼小而可怜的牺牲品的惊恐之后，便平静地割开他的喉咙。这一切都是传说，可能是卡津身上那种令人不愉快的气场的产物；不过这些故事似乎很适合他，与他的外表很相称。然而平时，当他不喝酒的时候，他在监狱里的行为还算理智。他很安静，不和任何人争吵，而且避免争吵。但这是出于对其他犯人的轻视，好像他自认为高人一等；他说话很少，像是故意不与人来往。他的一举一动都很缓慢，安详而自信。从他的眼睛里可以看出他一点儿都不蠢，而且非常狡黠；他的表情和微笑里总是流露出一种傲慢的嘲弄和残忍。他在狱中做伏特加生意，而且是最富有的酒保之一。他一年里总要喝醉两次，那时他就会兽性大发。当他醉意渐浓时，他便开始对别人讽刺挖苦，他使用的词汇都是最恶毒的，经过认真推敲的，仿佛是好久以前就想好了似的；最后，当他喝得酩酊大醉的时候，就会进入狂怒的状态，抓起刀子向人们扑过去。囚犯们都知道他那惊人的力气，只得纷纷跑开，躲起来；他遇见谁就扑谁。但是人们很快找到了对付他的办法。同囚室的十几个犯人一拥而上开始揍他。再也想象不出比揍他更狠毒的了：他们捶他的胸膛，捣他的心窝，踢他的肚子；他们狠狠揍他，一直到他完全失去知觉，像个死人一样躺在地上。若是换一个人，那可不能这么揍，会死人的——只有卡津例外。等把他揍到不省人事了，人们用羊皮袄把他一裹，抬上床铺。“躺一躺就好啦！”的确，他第二天早晨爬起来，像健康人一样，一声不响、愁眉不展去干活了。全监狱的人都知道，每逢卡津喝醉酒，这一天一定会以他被大揍一顿而结束。这一点连他自己也知道，但他还是要喝醉。终于，大家发现，卡津开始认输了。他开始抱怨身上疼痛，看起来也明显是病了；他去医院越来越频繁……“这回可要完蛋啦！”犯人们私下里说。

卡津走进伙房，那个拉小提琴赚钱的波兰人跟在他后面。卡津在伙房中间站定，一声不响地端详在场的人。大家都不吭声。最后，他看见了我和我的朋友，便恶狠狠地用嘲弄的眼光瞅着我们，露出满意的笑容，好像想出了什么妙计似的，趔趔趄趄朝我们这桌走来。

“请问，”他开口道，“你们有多大的面子，竟在这里喝茶？”

我默默地和朋友交换了眼色，我们明白，最好的做法是沉默，不搭理他。哪怕一点点反抗都会让这个家伙勃然大怒的。

“这么说，你们有钱喽？”他继续追问我们，“这么说，你们的钱多得成堆喽？难道说，你们进监狱的目的就是为了喝茶？你们是为喝茶而来的吗？说呀，该死的！……”

他看我们决心不作声，又不理他，便气得脸色发紫，浑身发抖。在他旁边的墙角里放着一个盛面包的托盘。托盘很大，如果里面装上面包，足够全狱中半数囚犯吃上一顿；现在托盘是空的。卡津用双手把它举起来，在我们头上挥动。他若是再挥舞一会儿，就会把我们打得头破血流。一般来说，凶杀案或凶杀的意图会给全监狱的人带来极不愉快的后果：狱方会开始进行调查和搜查，并加强管理措施，因而囚犯们一般都尽力不让事态发展到这种地步——尽管如此，这一次，周围的囚犯们都不吭一声，等着看热闹。连一句替我们申辩的话都没有；也没有人向卡津喊一声，他们对我们的仇恨就是如此之深。显然，对我们的危险处境，他们都抱着幸灾乐祸的态度……但是事情竟然顺利结束了：就在他刚要把木盘向我们砸过来的时候，有人在通道里喊了一声：

“卡津，你的酒被偷走啦！”

他砰地一声把木盘撂在地上，像疯子似的冲出了伙房。

“上帝救了他们，”囚犯们议论着。后来他们还一再这么说。我始终不知道这偷酒的消息是确有其事呢，还是偶然想出来搭救我们的。

晚上，天已经黑了，在囚室上锁之前，我绕着木栅散步，一阵沉重的悲痛涌上心头。此后，在整个监狱生活中，我再也没有体验过这样的悲痛。第一天的监狱生活是最难以忍受的，无论在监狱里和囚室里，还是在苦役劳动中，都是如此……我记得，当时有个念头总是困扰着我，后来在我的全部监狱生涯中，它总是令人厌恶地萦绕在我的心头。这是一个无法解决的疑问：同样的罪，受到的惩罚却不平等。诚然罪行是不能比较的，即使是大致的比较也不行。比如，有两个人都杀了人：所有相关背景都经过斟酌和权衡，最终的惩罚几乎是一样。但是，还是得看看两起罪案有什么不同点。一个罪犯杀人可能是无缘无故，甚至只是为了一枚葱头：他在路上杀了一个路过的庄稼人，而这个农夫总共只有一个葱头。“瞧，老大，你叫我出去弄点儿东西，我把这人宰啦，只弄到这么一个葱头。”“傻瓜！一个葱头还值一个戈比呢！杀一百个人就是一百个葱头，那就是一个卢布呢！”这是监狱里的笑话。而另一个人是为了保护未婚妻、妹妹或女儿，而杀了一个荒淫无耻的暴君。一个流浪者被警方的探子们包围，饿得要死，为了自己的自由和生命而杀了人；可是另一个人虐杀孩子只是为了借此取乐，为了使自己的双手感觉到孩子们热乎乎的鲜血，为了欣赏孩子们的恐惧，欣赏他们在屠刀下如何像鸽子一样做最后的挣扎。结果怎么样呢？两种人都服同样的苦役。不错，刑期是有差异的。但这种差异并不很大；然而，同一类的罪行却是千差万别。这其中的差异就像人性的差异一样复杂。我们姑且假定，这种差异是不可能消除的，它是一个无法解决的问题，就像无法把方的变成圆的一样，就算这样吧。就算这些不平等并不存在，那么，让我们再看看另一种不同，即惩罚后果的不同……一个人在狱中一天天憔悴，像蜡烛一样融化着；而另一个人在服苦役之前，甚至都不晓得世界上竟有这样愉快的生活，竟有这样有趣的俱乐部和勇敢的伙伴。是的，监狱里确实有这样的人。再比方说，一个受过教育的人，多愁善感，只要他心头一阵疼痛，还不等对他施加任何刑罚，他就在自身的痛楚中一命呜呼了。他本人对自己罪行的宣判，要比最严苛的法律更无情，更残酷。可是就在他旁边的人，在整个服刑期间从未反省过自己的罪行。他甚至认为自己是对的。还有一些人，他们故意犯罪，就是为了被送进监狱，以逃避外面更加像坐牢一样的生活。一个人虽然有自由，却有可能挣扎在堕落的边缘，从未吃饱过，每天从早到晚替雇主干活；可是在监狱里，劳动比在外面要轻松，有足够的面包吃，而且还是他从未见过的那种面包；每逢过节还能吃到牛肉，领到施舍品，还有机会赚几个小钱。至于同伴们呢，他们都是一些机灵能干的万事通；于是他用敬佩的眼光瞧着自己的狱友；他过去从未见过像他们这样的人；他认为他们是世界上层次最高的一群人。难道刑罚会使这两种人都同样感到痛苦吗？不过，干吗要为了这些解决不了的问题伤脑筋呢？熄灯鼓敲了，该回囚室了。

最初印象（3）

每天的最后一次点名开始了。点过这次名之后，囚室便会上锁，犯人们被关在室内，直到天亮。

点名是由一位当班军士带着两名士兵进行的。为了点名，囚犯有时要在院子里排队，等候看守长到来。但通常要简单一些，按照囚室来点名。点名者常常数错人数，数过一遍再重数。最后，这些可怜的看守总算把数目数对了，就会锁上囚室的门。一间囚室可容纳近三十名囚犯，他们拥挤地睡在通铺上。离睡觉时间还早。看来，每个人都需要做点什么。

监狱当局留在囚室里的唯一代表，就是我前面已经提到的残废老兵。每个囚室还有一名犯人当头目，这个头目自然是少校根据各人表现而亲自指定的。这些囚犯头目常常会犯严重的错误，那时他们便会遭受鞭笞，立即被革职，并由别人取代。我们囚室里的头目是阿基姆·阿基梅奇；这很令我惊讶，他常常呵斥囚犯，而犯人们通常都是用嘲笑回应他。那个残废老兵可比他聪明，从不多管闲事，若是需要开口，他也不过是虚应了事，聊以塞责而已。他常常一声不响地坐在自己的床铺上缝靴子。囚犯们几乎都不注意他。

在我入狱后的第一天，我就进行了一番观察，后来证明我的观察是对的：除去囚犯之外的狱中人员，从直接和囚犯接触的卫兵和看守，到同狱中生活多少有点关联的人，不论是谁，似乎都用一种夸张的眼光来看待囚犯，好像他们时刻都惴惴不安地等待着犯人们会猝然拿起刀子向他们扑来。最奇怪的是，囚犯们自己也意识到人们都怕他们，这显然使他们更加无耻。然而，对于囚犯来说，最好的长官还是那些不怕他们的人。的确，尽管囚犯们胆大妄为，但他们还是更愿意被信任。你若是信任他们，甚至还能博得他们的喜爱。有一次（不过在我蹲监狱期间，这种事是很少见的），一位长官没带任何卫兵独自走进囚室。应当说，这让囚犯们十分惊讶，还有点高兴。这样一位无畏的来访者往往能赢得犯人的尊敬，即使真的有发生什么不幸的危险，在他面前也是不会发生的。凡有囚犯的地方，就会使人感到恐惧，我实在不能理解这到底是因为什么。当然，人们产生这种恐惧也是不无理由的。首先，那些囚犯和众所周知的江洋大盗的外貌就让人心生畏惧；此外，凡是到过监狱的人都感觉得到，这些人不是自愿聚拢到这儿的，无论采取什么办法，也不能让一个活人变成一具死尸：他还有感情，渴望复仇，渴望生活，怀有激情和强烈的欲望。尽管如此，我依然深信，囚犯并没有什么可怕。一个人要拿起刀来向另一个人扑去并没有那么容易，也没那么迅速。总之，即使可能有危险，这类不幸事件毕竟是罕见的。当然，我现在所说的仅限于那些已经被判了刑的犯人，他们当中有许多人甚至乐意到监狱里来（新的生活有时就是那么令人神往！），因而他们打算安静、和平地生活下去；不仅如此，他们也不会让他们中间那些不守本分的人恣意妄为。每个犯人，不管他多么大胆，多么无耻，他对监狱里的一切还是惧怕的。至于候审犯人就另当别论了。候审犯人确实会无缘无故持刀向一个不相干的人扑去，只是因为，比如，他明天就要被拉去受刑，而现在若能制造一桩新的案件，他受刑的日子就会拖延下去。他持刀杀人的原因和目的就在于，不惜一切，无论如何也得尽快“改变自己的命运”。我还知道一桩这种奇怪的心理学案例。我们监狱里有这样一个军犯，原来是当兵的，被判处两年徒刑，未被剥夺公民权。他是个吹牛大王，又是个十足的胆小鬼。一般来说，吹牛皮和胆小怕死在我国军人中是十分罕见的。我们的兵士总是忙得很，即使想吹牛，也没有时间。如果他是一个吹牛的家伙，那他肯定同时是个懒汉和胆小鬼。这个犯人叫杜托夫，他服完短短的刑期又回到边防营去了。但是，像他这样曾经被关在监狱里接受感化的人往往最后都彻底变坏了，因此常发生这样的情况：他们在外面待上两三个礼拜以后，又重新受审，再回到监狱里来，只不过，这次的刑期已经不再是两三年，而是“终身”服役，要蹲上十五年或二十年监狱。事情就是这样，出狱后不到三个礼拜，杜托夫就撬锁偷东西，胡作非为。他再次受到审讯并被判服苦役受刑。他本来就是个可怜的胆小鬼，因而十分害怕即将受到的严酷刑罚，于是在即将接受鞭笞的前一天，他拿着刀子向走进监房的值日官扑过去。当然，他十分清楚，这种举动将大大加重对他的惩罚，延长他服苦役的期限。但他的想法是，即使把那可怕的受刑时刻向后推迟几天哪怕几小时也是好的！他十分胆小，虽然拿起刀子扑过去，但并没有伤着值日官，只是做做样子而已，为了犯下新的罪行，以便重新受审。

对于一个被判了刑的人来说，受刑前的时刻当然是可怕的。几年之中，我见过许多处在这个倒霉日子前夕的候刑犯人。因为我常常因病住院，所以一般都是在医院的犯人病房里遇见这些候刑犯人的。全俄国的囚犯都晓得，最怜悯他们的就是医生。医生对囚犯一视同仁，而不像那些不相干的人那样。不过一般老百姓例外，他们从不因犯人犯了罪而责备他们，不管他们的罪行有多大，老百姓总是为他们所受的刑罚和遭到的一切不幸而原谅他们。无怪乎俄国的老百姓都把犯罪叫作不幸，并把罪犯叫作“不幸的人”。这是一个有着深刻意义的定义。这个定义之所以重要，还因为它是人们在无意中出于本能给下的。在许多情况下，医院的确是囚犯的避难所，对于那些候刑的犯人来说更是如此，对他们的监禁要比那些已经受完刑的囚犯严厉得多……所以，当候刑犯人估计到那可怕的日子快要来临的时候，他们就常常去住院，只为把那可怕的时刻稍微推迟几天。当他出院回去，确切地知道第二天便是倒霉的日子时，几乎总是焦急万分。有的人出于自尊，竭力掩饰自己的感情，但是笨拙的演技瞒不住自己的狱友。大家都明白这是怎么回事，只是出于同情都不作声罢了。我认识一个年轻的犯人，他从前当过兵，由于犯了杀人罪而被处以最严酷的杖刑。他怕得要命，在受刑前喝了一瓶酒，还吸了鼻烟。对了，候刑犯人在受刑前总要喝酒的。酒很早就被带进来，要价很高，但候刑的囚犯宁愿半年之内不买任何必需品，也要攒钱买一品脱伏特加，以便在受刑前十五分钟喝下去。囚犯们一般都认为，喝醉了的人在挨棍棒时就不会感到太痛。不过，我又跑题了。这个可怜的小伙子喝了那瓶酒以后立刻就病倒了；他开始吐血，被送进医院时已经不省人事。这次吐血使他的胸部受到严重损害，几天之后有了肺结核的症状，半年后，他死了。给他治病的医生始终都不清楚他发病的原因。

谈到囚犯在受刑之前常常表现出胆怯心理，我应当补充几句：也有些人恰恰相反，他们那种超常的无畏精神往往使旁观者大为惊讶。我记得有几个人非常勇敢，甚至到了麻木不仁的程度，而且这样的人还不算罕见。我还记得我同一个凶神恶煞的犯人相遇时的情景。那是在夏季的一天，犯人病房里传说，晚上要给大名鼎鼎的强盗奥尔洛夫用刑，用过刑以后要把他送进我们病房里来。囚犯们一面等待着，一面断言，奥尔洛夫将受酷刑。大家都有点忐忑不安。老实说，我也极为好奇地等待着这个著名大盗的光临。很久以前我就听说过有关他的奇闻异事。他是一个少见的杀人不眨眼的凶手，冷血地残杀老人和孩子，但同时又具有惊人的意志力，并对自己的强大非常自负。他供认出许多起凶杀案，因此被判处受鞭笞。那天晚上，他被送来时已经几乎失去了知觉。病房里十分昏暗，点上了蜡烛。奥尔洛夫的脸色苍白得吓人，他那浓密漆黑的头发披散着。脊背已经肿了，红一块青一块。囚犯们整夜看护他，不断拿水给他喝，帮他翻身，给他喂药，他们像照顾亲兄弟或恩人一样照顾他。第二天，他就完全恢复了知觉，还在病房里来回走了两趟！这使我感到吃惊，因为他进院时是那么虚弱。他一次就挨了判定的总刑罚数的一半。直到在场的医生看出再打下去就会让他丧命的时候，才叫停了行刑。其实，奥尔洛夫身材矮小，身体状况也不是太好；长期的监禁已使他筋疲力尽。凡是遇见过候刑犯的人，大概都难以忘记他们那疲惫不堪、干瘦苍白的面孔，以及发狂般的眼神。尽管如此，奥尔洛夫很快就康复了。显然是他那内在的精神力量使他显得无比坚强。他确实是一个不寻常的人。我为好奇心所驱使，结识了他，并观察了他整整一个礼拜。可以肯定地说，我一生中从未遇见过像他那样坚强有力、具有钢铁般意志的人。在托波尔斯克，我曾经见过一个跟他属于同一类型的罪犯，那人曾是一个强盗首领。他完全是个野兽，如果站在他身旁，即使还不知道他是谁，也会本能地感觉到旁边有个可怕的生物。最让我不寒而栗的是他的冷淡。在他身上，肉欲已经战胜了精神，一眼便可以从他的脸上看出，除了疯狂地渴望满足肉体上的享受——纵情声色、淫荡作乐以外，就再也没有什么了。我相信科连涅夫（这个强盗的名字）在受刑前也会垂头丧气，怕得浑身发抖，尽管他能做到杀人不眨眼。而奥尔洛夫与他完全相反。显而易见，在奥尔洛夫身上，精神力量完全战胜了肉欲。看得出来，这个人的自制力是无限的，他蔑视一切痛苦和刑罚，世界上没有让他害怕的东西。在他身上只会看到无穷的精力，渴望行动，渴望复仇，渴望达到预定目标的意志。他那种奇特的傲慢使我感到诧异。他对一切仿佛都看不上眼，真是自大到了不可思议的程度，但他完全不是装腔作势，而是自然的流露。我想，世界上没有人可以单凭权势就让他屈服。他看待一切事物都出人意料地沉着，似乎世界上任何东西都不会让他感到惊奇。尽管他非常清楚其他囚犯都怀着尊敬的心情看待他，但他在他们面前从不夸耀自己。这一点非常有趣，因为虚荣和自大几乎是所有囚犯的共性。他知道不少事，坦率得有点奇怪，但绝不多嘴。对于我的问题，他回答得很坦诚；他正等着恢复健康，以便尽快受完剩下的刑罚。他还说在受刑以前，也担心自己受不了。“可是现在，”他向我挤挤眉眼，“一切都过去了。把剩下的挨完以后，我立刻就随大伙儿到涅尔琴斯克去，在路上找机会逃跑！一定跑！但愿背上的伤赶快长好。”在那五天里，他总是急不可耐地期待出院。他有时爱开玩笑，而且显得很亲切。我曾试探着询问他的经历。他一听到这样的询问，总是微微皱起眉头，但还是坦率地回答我。当他察觉出我在探究他的内心并竭力想在他身上发现一点懊悔的情绪时，他便用十分蔑视和高傲的眼光瞧着我，仿佛我在他心中忽然变成一个不懂事的傻孩子，不能像跟成年人谈话那样跟我谈论这种事情。他脸上甚至流露出一种仿佛是怜悯我的神情。过了一会儿，他突然冲我大笑起来，这非常淳朴的笑声，丝毫没有嘲笑之意。我相信，当他独自一人回想起我的问话时，也许会哑然失笑的。后来，他的背伤还没有完全康复，就办了出院手续；当时我也去办手续，恰好我们就一同出院了。我回监房，他回原先监禁他的那间靠近监狱的拘留所。告别时，他跟我握了手，以他的角度来看，这是极大信任的表示。我想，他之所以这样做，是因为他对此刻和自己都很满意。实际上，他不能不蔑视我，他一定是把我当作一个驯服的、软弱而可怜的人，认为我在各方面都不如他。第二天，他又被带去受刑……

我们的囚室在上锁以后立刻大变样——变得像一所真正的住宅，像个家庭一样。只有在这个时候，我的狱友们才完全像在家里一样。白天，军士、看守长以及其他长官随时都可能到囚室来，因此全囚室的人都有点不大自在，仿佛时刻提心吊胆会有什么事情发生。当囚室的门刚一落锁，大家立刻安静下来，各就各位，几乎每个人都干起自己的手艺。囚室内立刻明亮起来。每个人都有自己的蜡烛和烛台，大多是木制的。有的犯人缝靴子，有的缝衣服或者别的什么。室内污浊的空气越来越浓。一群游手好闲的人在墙角铺上毯子，蹲下来赌牌。几乎每个囚室都有一个这样的囚犯，他保存着一块一尺宽的破地毯，一支蜡烛和一副脏得出奇、满是油污的纸牌。这些东西加在一起就叫作赌场。物主每晚向赌徒们收取十五戈比，他就以此为业。赌徒们通常都是玩“三叶”“内阁”等。所有的牌全凭运气。每个赌徒面前都摆着一堆铜板——他口袋里的全部财产，只有在他输个精光或者把伙伴的钱赢过来时，他才起身走开。这样的赌局常常赌到深夜，有时甚至到天亮，直到早晨开门的时候。我们囚室也像其他囚室一样，总是有一些贫穷的囚犯，有的是赌钱输穷了的，有的是喝酒喝穷了的，还有的天生就是乞丐。我说的是“天生”，我要强调一下这个词。确实，无论在什么样的环境里，无论在什么样的条件下，我国人民中总是有而且将来还会有这么一群奇怪的人，他们安守本分，而且往往一点都不懒惰，但他们命中注定一辈子要受穷。他们无家可归，一贫如洗，邋遢不堪，看来好像总是受欺压而又不敢反抗，而且总是要依靠某一个人，受那人的差遣——那个人通常是游手好闲之辈或者突然飞黄腾达的暴发户。任何一项创造，任何一种积极主动的精神，对于他们来说都是痛苦，都是负担。他们仿佛生下来就注定做不了什么，而只能侍奉别人；不能按照自己的意志生活，而只能随别人的笛声起舞；他们的天职就是听从别人吩咐。任何环境、任何变革，都不能使他们富裕起来。他们永远是乞丐。我发现，这样的人不只是普通老百姓中间有，在各种社会阶层、党派、报社、组织里都有。每间囚室，每座监狱里也是这样：只要赌场一开，准会有一个这样的人立刻出来侍候，而且也没有一个赌场离得了这种人。赌徒通常花上五个戈比雇佣他们，他们的主要任务是通宵站岗报信。照例，他要在黑黢黢的穿堂里，在零下三十度的严寒里一连挨上六七个小时的冻，他要聆听每一下碰撞声，每一个叮当声，院子里的每一个脚步声。少校或者看守长有时在深夜里悄悄来监狱，当场擒获那些赌徒和干私活儿的囚犯，没收尚未燃尽的蜡烛——燃着的蜡烛在院子里就可以看见。如果听到穿堂门上的锁忽然响动才躲藏，或是熄掉蜡烛往床铺上躺，那就太晚了。如果发生这样的事，那个负责报信的仆人就要受到聚赌者的严厉处罚，因而这种疏失是很少发生的。五个戈比当然是少得可怜的报酬，即使在监狱里也是一样；可是狱中的雇主们在这种场合或其他场合表现出来的那种严酷和残忍，却往往让我感到惊讶。“拿了钱就要好好干！”这是一条不容反驳的理由。雇主付出微不足道的一点点儿钱，便能取得他想要取得的一切，如果可能的话，还要取得额外的东西。可他还认为这是有恩于受雇者。那个喝得醉醺醺的放荡汉任意挥霍金钱，可是却总想克扣仆人，这样的事情不仅在监狱里，也不仅在赌场上屡次发生。

我已经说过，囚室里的人几乎全都有点什么活儿干。除了赌徒以外，还有四五个人完全无事可做，所以他们立刻就躺下睡觉了。我在通铺上的铺位紧靠着门。通铺另一边是阿基姆·阿基梅奇，他和我头对头。他干活干到十点或十一点，糊五颜六色的中国式灯笼，那是城里人定做的，付给他的钱相当可观。他做灯笼很熟练，有条不紊地裱糊着，干完活就收拾停当，把褥垫铺开，做完祈祷，然后安心躺下睡觉。看起来他过于注意品行端正，简直都有点迂腐了。很显然，像一切目光短浅的人一样，他认为自己非常聪明。我从第一天起就不喜欢他，现在回想起来，那一天，我知道了很多关于他的事，最令我惊讶的是，像他这样一个人竟然没有在外面飞黄腾达，反而进了监狱。以后，我还要不止一次提到阿基姆·阿基梅奇。

现在我要把我们囚室的所有成员简要地描述一下。在这个囚室里，我还要度过很多个年头，因而这些人都是我将来的狱友和伙伴。读者们会理解，我是怀着极大的好奇心观察他们的。我左边通铺上是一群来自高加索的山民，他们大部分是因为抢劫而被发配到这里，刑期长短不一。他们分别是：两个列茨金人，一个切禅人，还有三个达格斯坦地区的鞑靼人。那个切禅人性格忧郁，愁眉苦脸，几乎不和任何人说话，他总是皱着眉头，怀有敌意，面带阴沉而恶毒的冷笑望着周围的人。列茨金人中有一个已经是老头子了，他的鹰钩鼻又长又细，从面貌上看就是一个惯匪，然而另一个叫努拉的列茨金人从第一天起就给我留下了最愉快亲切的印象。这人年纪不大，身材适中，有着大力士般的体格。他金发碧眼，鼻头上翘，还有一副像是芬兰女人的面孔，他的两腿有些弯，这是过去常骑马的缘故。他遍身都是刺刀和子弹留下的伤痕。他在高加索属于一个同俄国人关系和睦的部族，但常常私自跑到敌对的山民那边，同他们一起袭击俄国人。监狱里的人都喜欢他，他总是那么愉快，对谁都和蔼，干活时毫无怨言，性格安静开朗，尽管他常常以愤怒的眼光看着囚犯生活中的那些卑鄙龌龊的行为，并且对一切偷盗、欺骗、酗酒以及不诚实的行为深恶痛绝，但他并不挑起争端，遇见不顺眼的事就拂袖而去。在服苦役期间，他从未偷过东西，从未干过坏事。他是个虔诚的教徒，做祈祷时格外庄重：到了伊斯兰教节日前的斋戒日，他像狂热者那样斋戒素食，整夜整夜祈祷。大家都喜欢他，相信他的诚实正直。“努拉是一头狮子，”囚犯们说，于是“狮子”就成了他的外号。他完全相信，刑满后，一定会让他返回高加索老家去，这是他唯一的希望。我觉得，如果没有这种希望，他会死去的。入狱后的第一天，我就特别注意到他。在其他苦役犯凶狠、阴郁而又狡诈的面孔当中，不能不注意到他那善良和蔼的脸。在我入狱后半个小时里，他就从我跟前走过，一面拍着我的肩膀，一面和善地望着我的眼睛微笑。起初我不明白这是什么意思。他俄语说得不好，过了一会儿，他又走到我跟前，又是一边微笑一边友好地拍了一下我的肩膀。后来，又反反复复这样做，一直持续了三天。据我猜测，他这样是为了向我表示：他同情我，认为我受不了监狱里的艰苦生活，他愿意对我表示友好，使我振作起来，并要我相信他会保护我的。后来，我知道他的确是这么想的。善良而淳朴的努拉啊！

三个达格斯坦的鞑靼人是亲兄弟。其中两个已上了年纪，老三叫阿列伊，年纪不过二十一二岁，看相貌还要年轻些。他的铺位紧靠着我。他那漂亮、开朗、聪明又和善的面孔，一见面就把我吸引住了。我十分高兴，命运让他而不是别人做了我的邻居。他的整个灵魂都表现在他那漂亮、甚至可以说是俊美出众的脸上。他的笑容是那么天真无邪，他的大眼睛那么柔和，我瞧着他时总感到格外轻松，似乎心头的愁苦也减轻了几分。我并不是在夸大其词。在家乡时，有一次他哥哥（他一共有五个哥哥，另外两个哥哥被送去工厂或是别的什么地方）吩咐他骑马挎刀跟他们一起上路。在山民家庭里，对长兄一般都是非常尊敬的，少年人非但不敢问，甚至也没有想究竟要去哪里。兄长们更是认为没有必要告诉他。他们是出去抢劫，埋伏在路边窥视一个富有的亚美尼亚商人，然后抢劫他。最终他们杀死了商人和护送的保镖，并劫走了货物。案子被破获了，他们六个人全部被逮捕、审讯、定罪，然后被流放到西伯利亚服苦役。法庭对阿列伊开了点恩，判的刑期较短：四年苦役。他的兄长都很喜欢他，这与其说是手足之情，毋宁说是慈父之爱。在流放期间，他是他们的安慰，兄长们平时总是脸色阴沉，双眉紧锁，但只要一看见阿列伊，就都笑逐颜开。当他们跟他说话（他们很少跟他说话，好像都认为他还是个少年，跟他没什么好说的）时，他们那阴森的面孔便舒展开。每当这时我就猜想，他们准是在跟他谈什么有趣的事情，甚至是小孩的事，当他们听到他的回答时，总是彼此交换着眼色，露出和善的微笑。阿列伊自己却不敢先开口，因为他非常尊敬兄长。很难想象，这样一位少年在整个服役期间怎能保持他那颗温柔的心，怎能那样淳朴诚实，温情脉脉，那样讨人喜欢，而没有变得粗野放荡。然而，他的秉性确实是坚强而毫不动摇的，尽管从外表上看他很温柔。后来，我对他有了深刻的了解。他像贞洁的少女一样纯洁，监狱里任何一桩丑恶、无耻、肮脏或不公道的暴行，都会在他那美丽的眼睛里点燃愤怒的火焰，使他的眼睛变得更美。但是，他避免一切争吵和谩骂，虽然他并不是那种可以随便让人欺侮的人，他善于维护自己的尊严。他没有跟任何人争吵过，因为大家都喜爱他。起先，他对我只不过是彬彬有礼。我渐渐开始跟他说话，几个月之后，他就学会了一口流利的俄语，可是他的两个哥哥在服役期间始终没有学会。我发现他是一个非常聪明、非常谦虚、对人客气又明理的少年。总之，我要预先说明，我认为阿列伊远非一个普通人，我常常回忆起和他见面时的情景，那是我一生中最愉快的邂逅之一。有些人的性格天生就是那么美好，仿佛上帝恩赐一般，你甚至不敢设想他们有朝一日会变坏。你任何时候对他们都尽可放心。我现在对阿列伊也是放心的。可现在他在哪儿呢？……

有一次，那是在我入狱很久以后，我正躺在通铺上想一件令人痛心的事。平时总是忙碌而勤勉的阿列伊这一次却什么也没干，尽管离睡觉时间还早。当时他们正在过伊斯兰教的节日，因此都没去干活。他躺着，把双手垫在头下，也在想着什么。突然，他问我：

“你现在很痛苦吧？”

我好奇地回头瞧瞧他，我觉得阿列伊的这个直率而突然的问题颇有点奇怪，因为他对人一向很客气，思路细腻，心里充满智慧。但是当我仔细端详他时，在他脸上看出他正由于回忆往事而心痛忧郁。我立刻领悟到此刻他自己的心情正在痛苦煎熬着。我把我的猜测告诉了他，他叹了口气，微微一笑。我喜欢他的微笑，总是那么温柔亲切。当他微笑时，便会露出两排珍珠般的牙齿，世界第一美人也会羡慕他的皓齿。

“唉，阿列伊，你现在大概在回忆你们达格斯坦人是怎样度过这个节日，是吧？那边好吗？”

“是的，”他非常开心地说，双眼熠熠发光，“你怎么知道我在想这事呢？”

“怎么会不知道呢！那边比这里好吧？”

“唉，你说这些干什么……”

“你们那边现在想必正是鲜花盛开，跟天堂一样！……”

“唉，唉，你最好别提了。”他十分激动。

“阿列伊，你听我说，你有妹妹吗？”

“有，你问这个干什么？”

“如果她长得也像你一样，她一定是个美人。”

“像我？她的确是个美人，全达格斯坦都没有比她更漂亮的女人了。唉，我的妹妹长得多好看啊！你恐怕还没有见过她那样漂亮的美人！我母亲也是个美人。”

“你妈妈爱你吗？”

“唉，你说的哪儿的话啊。她现在为了我大概都快伤心死了。她爱我胜过爱我妹妹，胜过爱所有人……我昨天晚上还梦见她，她为我哭啦。”

他不作声了，这天晚上他没有再多说一句话。但是从这以后，他便寻找一切机会跟我谈话，尽管出于对我的尊敬（我不知道这种尊敬从何而来），他从来都不首先跟我说话。但是当我跟他说话时，他总是十分高兴。我问他一些高加索的事情，问他过去的生活。他的兄长不阻止他跟我交谈，他们甚至为此感到高兴。他们看出来我越来越喜欢阿列伊，因而他们对我也亲切多了。

阿列伊在干活时帮我，在囚室里尽量照料我，看得出来，只要他为我做点什么事能让我感到轻松，或使我感到满意，他就十分高兴。但是，在他的这番心意里没有丝毫卑躬屈膝或贪图私利的成分，而完全是出于一种热烈的友谊，他已经不再对我掩饰这种情谊了。我顺便说一下，他还掌握了很多技能：他学会了缝衬衣，而且缝得很好，他会做靴子，后来还学会了一点木匠活。他的两个哥哥都称赞他，为他感到自豪。

“你听我说，阿列伊，”有一次我对他说，“你为什么不学着用俄语读写？要知道，这对你以后在西伯利亚生活可能会有用啊！”

“我很想学，可是跟谁学呢？”

“这儿会读会写的人还少吗？你愿意让我教你吗？”

“好，那就请你教我吧！”他甚至从铺上欠身起来，一边望着我，一边合起手来恳求我。

第二天晚上，我们便开始学起来。我有一本《新约》俄译本，这是监狱里不被禁止的书。没有字母表，就从这本书里学，几个星期以后，阿列伊便读得很好了。大约三个月后，他便完全读懂了这本书。他热心地学，很是入迷。

有一天，我们把登山训众〔9〕那一段读完了。我发现，他在朗读其中某些地方的时候仿佛带着特殊的感情。

我问他是否喜欢读过的段落。

他迅速瞧了我一眼，脸上泛起红晕。

“哦，是的！”他答道，“是的，耶稣是一位神圣的先知，耶稣说的都是上帝的话。他说得多好啊！”

“你最喜欢他的哪一句话？”

“我最喜欢他的这几句话：饶恕吧，爱吧，别欺侮人，敌人也要爱。哦，他说得多好啊！”

他转身面向正在听我们谈话的他的两位兄长，热情地跟他们说起话来。他们一本正经地说了很久，并且频频点头。然后他们带着一种庄重而宽厚的笑容，即典型的伊斯兰教徒的笑容（我十分喜欢这种笑容，特别喜欢这种笑容的庄重）转身对我说：耶稣是上帝的先知，而且创造了伟大的奇迹；他用泥做了一只鸟，吹口气，它就飞了……这也是他们的书上写的。在讲这些话的时候，他们完全相信，他们赞美了耶稣，也使我得到了极大的快乐；阿列伊感到特别幸福，因为他的两个哥哥居然开恩想让我高兴一番。

练习书写也进行得很顺利。阿列伊弄来一些纸张（他不让我用我自己的钱给他买）和笔墨，不到两个月，他就能写一笔好字了。这甚至让他的两个哥哥也惊叹不已。他们感到万分高兴和骄傲，不知怎样感谢我才好。我们在一起干活时，他们都争先恐后帮助我，并认为这样做就是他们的幸福。至于阿列伊，那就更不用说了。他爱我，就像爱他的兄长们一样。我永远也不会忘记他出狱时的情景。他把我拉到囚室后面，搂着我的脖子大哭起来。在这以前，他从来没有吻过我，也没有掉过泪。“你对我的帮助太大了，太大了，”他说，“就连我父亲，我母亲，对待我也不像你这样周到：你让我懂得了该怎样做人；上帝会报答你的，我永远也忘不了你……”

如今，我那善良、可爱又可亲的阿列伊，你在哪儿啊，你在哪儿啊？……

在我们的囚室里，除了契尔克斯人以外，还有几个波兰人，他们组成了一个完全独立的小家庭，几乎不同其他囚犯来往。我已经说过，由于他们自己的排外情绪和对俄国苦役犯的仇视，他们自己也遭到大家的憎恨。这是一些被折磨得成了病态的人。他们共有六人，其中几个受过教育，我以后还要专门详细地讲述他们。在我狱中生活的最后几年里，我曾向他们借过一些书。我看过的第一本书给我留下了深刻的、奇异的、特殊的印象。关于这些印象，我以后有机会还要专门讲。我觉得他们非常有趣；我相信，对于很多人来说，他们是完全不可理解的。但是，对于某些事物如果不经过亲身体验，就不能妄下判断。我只说一点吧。精神上的贫乏比任何肉体上的痛苦都更让人难以忍受。一个普通老百姓入狱后，很快就找到了自己的同伴，甚至还可能是文化水平较高的同伴。当然，他失掉了很多东西，比如故乡、家庭等等，但是，他的生活环境仍是相同的。一个受过教育的人和一个普通老百姓依法接受同样的刑罚，但前者失去的东西往往要比后者多得多。他必须克制自己的一切需求，改变自己的生活习惯，进入一个不会使他感到满意的环境，学会呼吸另一种空气……这等于把一条鱼从水里捞出来放在沙土上……所有的人都依法接受同样的刑罚，但对某些人来说却往往痛苦十倍。这是一条真理……即使我们所说的仅仅是一些不得不牺牲的物质方面的习惯。

但波兰人却构成了一个独特的整体。他们共有六个人，而且总是凑在一起。在我们囚室里的所有苦役犯中，他们只喜欢一个犹太人，唯一的原因可能是因为他能使他们开心。不过就连其他囚犯也喜欢这个犹太人，尽管大家都毫无例外地嘲笑他。我们这里只有他一个犹太人，就是现在我一想起他来也忍不住要笑。每当我看见他时，我就不禁想起果戈理小说《塔拉斯·布尔巴》中的那个犹太人杨凯尔来，每当他脱下衣服和老婆走进一个大橱柜里过夜的时候，他立刻变得像是一只小雏鸡。我们这位犹太人伊赛·弗米契也活像是一只拔了毛的小鸡。他已经不年轻了，约有五十岁左右，身材矮小，体质孱弱，但很狡猾，同时又是个十足的蠢汉。他莽撞傲慢又胆小如鼠。他满脸皱纹，前额和两颊上全是受刑时留下的烙印。我怎么也不能理解，他怎能受得住六十皮鞭。他是因为一起凶杀案入狱的，他秘藏着一个药方，那是他的一位犹太朋友在他受刑后立即从一个医生那里得来的。按照这个药方可以配制一种药膏，一擦上，两个星期内便可除掉烙印。在监狱里，他不敢用这种药膏，他打算等他服满十二年苦役出狱，成为一个自由人时，再使用这个药方。“不然，我就不能结婚了，”有一次他对我说，“我一定要结婚。”我和他是好朋友。他总是兴高采烈，喜气盈盈。他在监狱里过得挺轻松：他学的手艺是首饰匠，因为城里没有首饰匠，所以他的活计总是做不完，这就使他避免了做苦工。自然，他同时又是个放高利贷的家伙，他向全狱放债、收存抵押品获取利息。他是在我之前入狱的，一个波兰人曾详细地向我讲述他入狱时的情景。这是一个荒谬可笑的故事，我以后还要讲的，我以后还要不止一次提到这个伊赛·弗米契。

除此以外，我们囚室里还有这么一些人：四个旧教徒，他们都是上了年纪的饱读圣经的老年人，其中一个是来自斯塔罗杜布旧教徒村的老头子；还有两三个总是愁眉苦脸的小俄罗斯人；一个瘦脸尖鼻子的年轻苦役犯，约有二十三岁，他已经杀过八个人了；一批伪造货币的，其中一个家伙十分滑稽可笑，全囚室的人都拿他开心。最后还有几个悲观失望、愁眉苦脸的人。他们的头发都被剃去了半边，面貌丑陋不堪，个个沉默寡言，贪婪嫉妒，总是怀着仇恨的心理皱着眉头看着周围的一切，他们打算还要长期愁眉苦脸、沉默寡言和仇恨别人，直到服满苦役。在我入狱后的第一个抑郁的夜晚，这一切都只是在我面前一闪而过——在烟雾和污秽中，在谩骂声和下流的猥亵话中，在污浊的空气中，在叮当响的脚镣声中，在诅咒和无耻的大笑声中一闪而过。我躺在光光的通铺上，把自己的衣服垫在头下（我还没有枕头），把短皮袄盖在身上，久久不能入睡，尽管我已经被这第一天的许多骇人听闻而又出乎意料的印象折磨得精疲力竭，但是我的新生活才刚刚开始。前面还有许多我从未想到、也不曾预料的事情等待着我……

注释

〔1〕　穿绿街，旧俄军队中惩罚士兵的残酷刑罚。手持树条的士兵站成两行，裸体受刑者从中穿过，每个士兵必须用树条抽打受刑者，否则自己就要受罚。——译者注

〔2〕　在执行“穿绿街”刑罚时，有士兵在旁敲鼓。——译者注

〔3〕　旧俄货币单位，一个铜板。——译者注

〔4〕　当时的俄国，士兵的儿子一出生便记入服兵役的名册。——译者注

〔5〕　指契尔尼戈夫省斯塔罗杜布旧教徒村。十八世纪，一些旧教徒不堪忍受沙皇迫害，纷纷从索日河上的维特克岛迁居此地。——译者注

〔6〕　东正教中保存一切旧的宗教仪式的教派。——译者注

〔7〕　命名日是和本人同名的圣徒纪念日，主要在一些天主教、东正教国家庆祝。——译者注

〔8〕　喀山是伏尔加河上的一个城市。俄语中的西罗特金这个姓氏是孤儿的派生词，发音相似，故把西罗特金叫“孤儿”。喀山的孤儿是对假装穷苦的人的讽刺。——译者注

〔9〕　参见《新约·马太福音》第五至七章。——译者注

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Grand Inquisitor

TRANSLATED BY DAVID MCDUFF

PENGUIN BOOKS—GREAT IDEAS

Note

'The Grand Inquisitor' is a 'poema' or narrative argument from Book Five of The Brothers Karamazov, which considers the idea of freedom. In the preceding chapter, Ivan introduces it to his brother Aloysha:

'Listen Aloysha, don't laugh, but I once composed a poema－I did it about a year ago. If you're able to waste another ten minutes or so with me, would you let me tell you what it says?'

'You've written a poema?'

'Oh no, I didn't write it,' Ivan said, laughing, 'never in my life have I written down so much as two lines of verse. No, I dreamed this poema up and committed it to memory. I dreamed it up with passion. You shall be my first reader, or listener, rather,' Ivan said with an ironic smile. 'Shall I tell you what it says or not?'

By all means,' Aloysha managed to get out.

'My poema is entitled "The Grand Inquisitor", a preposterous thing, but I feel like telling it to you.'

In 'The House of the Dead' Dostoyevsky recreates the time he spent in a Siberian convict prison through his fictionalized narrator Alekzandr Petrovich Goryanchikov.

'The Grand Inquisitor' from The Brothers Karamozov

'You see, even here we can't get by without a preface－a literary preface, that is, confound it!' Ivan said, laughing. 'And what kind of an author am I? Look, the action of my poem takes place in the sixteenth century, and back then－as a matter of fact, this ought still to be familiar to you from your days at school－back then it was the custom in works of poetry to bring the celestial powers down to earth. Dante I need hardly mention. In France the magistrates' clerks and also the monks in the monasteries used to give entire dramatic spectacles in which they brought on to the stage the Madonna, the angels, the saints, Christ and even God Himself. Back in those days it was all very unsophisticated. In Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris, under the reign of Louis XI, an edifying spectacle is given to the people free of charge in the auditorium of the Paris Town Hall, to celebrate the birthday of the French Dauphin, under the title Le bon jugement de la très sainte et gracieuse Vierge Marie, in which she herself appears in person and pronounces her bon jugement. In our own country, in the Moscow of pre-Petrine antiquity, dramatic spectacles of almost the same kind, especially of stories from the Old Testament, also took place from time to time; but, in addition to dramatic spectacles, there passed throughout all the world a large number of tales and "verses" in which when necessary the saints, the angels and all the powers of heaven wrought their influence. The monks in our monasteries also occupied themselves with the translation, copying and even the composition of such poems, and in such times, too: under the Tartar yoke. There is, for example, a certain little monastic poem (from the Greek, of course) entitled The Journey of the Mother of God Through the Torments, with scenes and with a boldness that are not inferior to those of Dante. The Mother of God visits hell, and her guide through the "torments" is the Archangel Michael. She beholds the sinners and their sufferings. This hell, incidentally, contains a most entertaining category of sinners in a burning lake: those of them who sink into this lake so deep that they are unable to swim to its surface again are "forgotten by God"－a phrase of exceptional force and profundity. And lo, the shocked and weeping Mother of God falls down before God's throne and appeals to him to grant forgiveness to all who are in hell, all whom she has seen there, without distinction. Her entreaty with God is of colossal interest. She implores him, she will not depart, and when God draws her attention to the nailed hands and feet of His Son and asks her: "How can I forgive his torturers?" she commands all the saints, all the martyrs, all the angels and archangels to fall down together with her and pray for the forgiveness of all without discrimination. The upshot of it is that she coaxes from God a respite from the torments each year, from Good Friday to Whit Sunday, and out of hell the sinners at once thank the Lord and loudly cry unto Him: "Just and true art thou, O Lord, that thou hast judged thus." Well, my little poem would have been in similar vein, had it appeared in those days. He appears on my proscenium; to be sure, in my poem. He does not say anything, only makes his appearance and goes on his way. Fifteen centuries have now passed since He made his vow to come in his kingdom, fifteen centuries since his prophet wrote: "Behold, I come quickly." "But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, not even the Son, but only my Father in heaven," as He himself prophesied while yet on the earth. But humankind awaits him with its earlier faith and its earlier tender emotion. Oh, with even greater faith, for fifteen centuries have now passed since the pledges have ceased to be lent to man from the heavens:

Thou must have faith in what the heart saith,

For the heavens no pledges lend.

'And only faith in that which is said by the heart! To be sure, there were many miracles back in those days. There were saints who effected miraculous healings; to some righteous men, according to their life chronicles, the Queen of Heaven herself came down. But the Devil does not slumber, and in humankind there had already begun to grow a doubt in the genuineness of these miracles. Just at that time there appeared in the north, in Germany, a terrible new heresy. An enormous star, "burning as it were a lamp" (that's the church, you see), "fell upon the fountains of the waters, and they were made bitter". These heresies began blasphemously to contradict the miracles. But all the more ardent was the faith of those who remained true believers. The tears of humankind ascended to Him as before, He was awaited, loved, trusted in, people thirsted to suffer and die for him, as before ... And for how many centuries had humankind prayed with faith and ardour: "O God the Lord, show us light", for how many centuries had it appealed to Him that He, in His immeasurable compassion, should deign to come down among His supplicants. He had been known to condescend before and had visited certain men of righteousness, martyrs and holy cenobites while yet they lived on earth, as it is written in their "Lives". Among us Tyutchev, who believed profoundly in the truth of His words, announced that

Weighed down by the Cross's burden,

All of you, my native land,

Heaven's Tsar in servile aspect

Trudged while blessing, end to end.

Which really was the case, I do assure you. And so it happens that He conceives the desire to manifest Himself, if only for an instant, to His people－to His struggling, suffering, stinkingly sinful people that none the less childishly love Him. My poem is set in Spain, at the most dreadful period of the Inquisition, when bonfires glowed throughout the land every day to the glory of God and

In resplendent autos-da-fé

Burned the wicked heretics.

Oh, this is not, of course, that coming in which He will appear, according to His promise, at the end of days in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory and which will take place suddenly, "as the lightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto the west". No, He has conceived the desire to visit his children at least for an instant and precisely in those places where the bonfires of heretics had begun to crackle. In His boundless mercy He passes once more among men in that same human form in which for three years He walked among men fifteen centuries earlier. He comes down to the "hot streets and squares" of the southern town in which only the previous day, in a "resplendent auto-da-fé", in the presence of the king, the court, the knights, the cardinals and the loveliest ladies of the court, in the presence of the numerous population of all Seville, there have been burned by the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor very nearly a good hundred heretics all in one go, ad majorem gloriam Dei. He has appeared quietly, unostentatiously, and yet－strange, this－everyone recognizes Him. That could have been one of the best bits in my poem－I mean, the question of why it is that everyone recognizes him. The people rush towards him with invincible force, surround him, mass around him, follow him. Saying nothing, He passes among them with a quiet smile of infinite compassion. The sun of love burns in his heart, the beams of Light, Enlightenment and Power flow from his eyes and, as they stream over people, shake their hearts with answering love. He stretches out His arms to them, blesses them, and from one touch of Him, even of His garments, there issues a healing force. Then from the crowd an old man, blind since the years of his childhood, exclaims: "O Lord, heal me, that I may behold thee," and lo, it is as though the scales fall from the blind man's eyes, and he sees Him. The people weep and kiss the ground on which He walks. The children throw flowers in his path, singing and crying to Him: "Hosannah!" "It's Him, it's Him," they all repeat, "it must be Him, it can't be anyone but Him." He stops in the parvis of Seville Cathedral just at the moment a white, open child's coffin is being borne with weeping into the place of worship: in it is a seven-year-old girl, the only daughter of a certain noble and distinguished citizen. The dead child lies covered in flowers. "He will raise up your child," voices cry from the crowd to the weeping mother. The cathedral pater who has come out to meet the coffin looks bewildered and knits his brows. But then the mother of the dead child utters a resounding wail. She throws herself at his feet: "If it is You, then raise up my child!" she exclaims, stretching out her arms to him. The procession stops, the coffin is lowered to the parvis floor, to his feet. He gazes with compassion, and his lips softly pronounce again: "Talitha cumi"－"Damsel, I say unto thee, arise." The girl rises in her coffin, sits up and looks around her, smiling, with astonished, wide-open eyes. In her arms is the bouquet of white roses with which she had lain in the coffin. Among the people there are confusion, shouts, sobbing, and then suddenly, at that very moment, on his way past the cathedral comes the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor himself. He is an old man of almost ninety, tall and straight, with a withered face and sunken eyes, in which, however, there is still a fiery, spark-like gleam. Oh, he is not dressed in his resplendent cardinal's attire, the attire in which yesterday he showed himself off before the people as the enemies of the Roman faith were being burned－no, at this moment he wears only his old, coarse, monkish cassock. Behind him at a certain distance follow his surly assistants and servants and the "Holy" Guard. He stops before the crowd and observes from a distance. He has seen it all, has seen the coffin being put down at His feet, has seen the damsel rise up, and a shadow has settled on his face. He knits his thick, grey brows, and his eyes flash with an ill-boding fire. He extends his index finger and orders the guards to arrest Him. And lo, such is his power and so accustomed, submissive and tremblingly obedient to him are the people that the crowd immediately parts before the guards, and they, amidst the sepulchral silence that has suddenly fallen, place their hands on Him and march Him away. Instantly, the crowd, almost as one man, bow their heads to the ground before the Elder-Inquisitor, and without uttering a word he blesses the people and passes on his way. The Guard conduct the Captive to a narrow and murky vaulted prison in the ancient building of the Ecclesiastical Court and lock Him up in it. The day goes by, and the dark, passionate and "unbreathing" Seville night begins. The air "of lemon and of laurel reeks". In the midst of the deep murk the prison's iron door is suddenly opened and the old Grand Inquisitor himself slowly enters the prison with a lamp in his hand. He is alone, the door instantly locks again behind him. He pauses in the entrance and for a long time, a minute or two, studies His face. At last he quietly goes up to Him, places the lamp on the table and says to Him:

'"Is it you? You?" Receiving no answer, however, he quickly adds: "No, do not reply, keep silent. And in any case, what could you possibly say? I know only too well what you would say. And you have no right to add anything to what was said by you in former times. Why have you come to get in our way? For you have come to get in our way, and you yourself know it. But do you know what will happen tomorrow? I do not know who you are, and I do not want to know: you may be He or you may be only His likeness, but tomorrow I shall find you guilty and bum you at the stake as the most wicked of heretics, and those same people who today kissed your feet will tomorrow at one wave of my hand rush to rake up the embers on your bonfire, do you know that? Yes, I dare say you do," he added in heartfelt reflection, not for one moment removing his gaze from his Captive.'

'I don't quite understand this part of it, Ivan,' Alyosha smiled; all the time he had listened in silence. 'Is it simply an immense fantasy, or is it some mistake on the part of an old man, some impossible quiproquo?'

'Why don't you assume it's the latter.' Ivan burst out laughing. 'If you've been so spoiled by contemporary realism that you can't endure anything fantastic and you want it to be a quiproquo, then so be it. It certainly can't be denied,' he laughed again, 'that the old man is ninety, and might easily have long ago been driven insane by the idea that is in his mind. On the other hand, the Captive might have struck him by His appearance. Or it might simply have been a hallucination, the vision of a ninety-year-old man on the threshold of death, given added feverish intensity by the previous day's auto-da-fé of a hundred burned heretics. Is it not, however, a matter of indifference to us whether it's a quiproquo, or whether it's a colossal fantasy? The point is merely that the old man wants to speak his mind, to finally say out loud the things he has kept silent about for ninety years.'

'And the Captive says nothing either? Gazes at him, but says no word?'

'But that is how it must be in all such instances,' Ivan laughed again. 'The old man himself remarks to Him that He has not the right to add anything to what has already been said by Him in former times. If one cares to, one can see in that statement the most basic characteristic of Roman Catholicism, in my opinion, at least; it's as if they were saying: "It was all told by you to the Pope and so it is now all of it in the Pope's possession, and now we should appreciate it if you would stay away altogether and refrain from interfering for the time being, at any rate." That is the sense in which they not only speak but also write, the Jesuits, at least. I've read such things in the works of their theologians. "Do you have the right to divulge to us so much as one of the mysteries of the world from which you have come?" my old man asks Him, supplying the answer himself: "No, you do not, lest you add anything to what has already been said by you, and lest you take away from people the freedom you so stood up for when you were upon the earth. Anything new that you divulge will encroach upon people's freedom to believe, for it will look like a miracle and their freedom to believe was what mattered to you most even back then, fifteen hundred years ago. Was it not you who so often used to say back then: 'I want to make you free'? Well, but now you have seen those 'free' people," the old man suddenly adds with a thoughtful and ironic smile. "Yes, this task has cost us dearly," he continues, looking at him sternly, "but we have at last accomplished it in your name. For fifteen centuries we have struggled with that freedom, but now it is all over, and over for good. You don't believe that it is over for good? You look at me meekly and do not even consider me worthy of indignation? Well, I think you ought to be aware that now, and particularly in the days we are currently living through, those people are even more certain than ever that they are completely free, and indeed they themselves have brought us their freedom and have laid it humbly at our feet. But we were the ones who did that, and was that what you desired, that kind of freedom?"'

'Once again I don't understand,' Alyosha broke in. 'Is he being ironic, is he laughing?'

'Not at all. What he is doing is claiming the credit for himself and his kind for at last having conquered freedom and having done so in order to make people happy. "For only now" (he is talking about the inquisition, of course) "has it become possible to think for the first time about people's happiness. Man is constituted as a mutineer; can mutineers ever be happy? You were given warnings," he says to Him, "you had plenty of warnings and instructions, but you did not obey them, you rejected the only path by which people could have been made happy, but fortunately when you left you handed over the task to us. You gave your promise, you sealed it with your word, you gave us the right to bind and loose, and so of course you cannot even dream of taking that right from us now. So why have you come to get in our way?"'

'I wonder if you could explain the meaning of that phrase: "you had plenty of warnings and instructions"?' Alyosha asked.

'Yes, well, that is exactly the point on which the old man wants to speak his mind.'

'"The terrible and clever Spirit, the Spirit of self-annihilation and non-existence," the old man continues, "that great Spirit spoke with you in the wilderness, and we are told in the Scriptures that it 'tempted' you. Is that so? And would it be possible to say anything more true than those things which he made known to you in three questions and which you rejected, and which in the Scriptures are called 'temptations'? Yet at the same time, if ever there took place on the earth a truly thunderous miracle, it was on that day, the day of those three temptations. Precisely in the emergence of those three questions did the miracle lie. Were one to imagine, just for the sake of experiment and as an example, that those three questions put by the terrible Spirit had been lost without trace from the Scriptures and that it was necessary to reconstruct them, invent and compose them anew so they could again be entered in the Scriptures, and for this purpose to gather together all the sages of the earth－the rulers, the high priests, the scholars, the philosophers, the poets, and give them the task of inventing, composing three questions, but of such a kind that would not only correspond to the scale of the event but would also express, in three words, in but three human phrases, the entire future history of the world and mankind－then do you suppose that all the great wisdom of the earth, having united together, would be able to invent anything at all even remotely equivalent in power and depth to those three questions that were actually put to you that day by the mighty and clever Spirit in the wilderness? Why, by those very questions alone, by the sheer miracle of their emergence it is possible to gain the realization that one is dealing not with a fleeting human intelligence, but with one that is eternal and absolute. For it is as if in those three questions there is conjoined into a single whole and prophesied the entire subsequent history of mankind, there are manifested the three images in which all the unresolved historical contradictions of human nature throughout all the earth will coincide. Back then this was not as yet evident for the future was unknown, but now after the passage of fifteen centuries we can see that everything in those three questions was the product of such foresight and foreknowledge and was so reasonable that it is no longer possible to add anything to them or to remove anything from them.

'"Decide for yourself who was right: You or the One who questioned You that day? Remember the first question, though not in literal terms, its sense was this: 'You want to go into the world and are going there with empty hands, with a kind of promise of freedom which they in their simplicity and inborn turpitude are unable even to comprehend, which they go in fear and awe of－for nothing has ever been more unendurable to man and human society than freedom! Look, you see those stones in that naked, burning hot wilderness? Turn them into loaves and mankind will go trotting after you like a flock, grateful and obedient, though ever fearful that you may take away your hand and that your loaves may cease to come their way.' But you did not want to deprive man of freedom and rejected the offer, for what kind of freedom is it, you reasoned, if obedience is purchased with loaves? You retorted that man lives not by bread alone, but are you aware that in the name of that same earthly bread the Earth Spirit will rise up against you and fight with you and vanquish you, and everyone will follow it, crying: 'Who is like unto this beast, he has given us fire from heaven!' Are you aware that centuries will pass, and mankind will proclaim with the lips of its wisdom and science that there is no crime and consequently no sin either, but only the hungry. 'Feed them, and then ask virtue of them!'－that is what will be inscribed upon the banner they will raise against you and before which your temple will come crashing down. In the place of your temple there will be erected a new edifice, once again a terrible Tower of Babel will be erected, and even though this one will no more be completed than was the previous one, but even so you would be able to avoid that new Tower and abbreviate the sufferings of the human beings by a thousand years, for after all, it is to us that they will come, when they have suffered for a thousand years with their Tower! Then they will track us down again under the ground, in the catacombs, hiding (for we shall again be persecuted and tortured), they will find us and cry to us: 'Feed us, for those who promised us fire from heaven have not granted it.' And then we shall complete their Tower, for it is he that feeds them who will complete it, and it is only we that shall feed them, in your name, and lie that we do it in your name. Oh, never, never will they feed themselves without us! No science will give them bread while yet they are free, but the end of it will be that they will bring us their freedom and place it at our feet and say to us: 'Enslave us if you will, but feed us.' At last they themselves will understand that freedom and earthly bread in sufficiency for all are unthinkable together, for never, never will they be able to share between themselves! They will also be persuaded that they will never be able to be free, because they are feeble, depraved, insignificant and mutinous. You promised them the bread of heaven, but, I repeat again, can it compare in the eyes of a weak, eternally depraved and eternally dishonourable human race with the earthly sort? And if in the name of the bread of heaven thousands and tens of thousands follow you, what will become of the millions and tens of thousand millions of creatures who are not strong enough to disdain the earthly bread for the heavenly sort? Or are the only ones you care about the tens of thousands of the great and the strong, while the remaining millions, numerous as the grains of sand in the sea, weak, but loving you, must serve as mere raw material for the great and the strong? No, we care about the weak, too. They are depraved and mutineers, but in the end they too will grow obedient. They will marvel at us and will consider us gods because we, in standing at their head, have consented to endure freedom and rule over them－so terrible will being free appear to them at last! But we shall say that we are obedient to you and that we rule in your name. We shall deceive them again, for we shall not let you near us any more. In that deception will be our suffering, for we shall be compelled to lie. That is the significance of the first question that was asked in the wilderness, and that is what you rejected in the name of freedom, which you placed higher than anything else. Yet in that question lay the great secret of this world. Had you accepted the 'loaves', you would have responded to the universal and age-old anguish of man, both as an individual creature and as the whole of mankind, namely the question: 'Before whom should one bow down?' There is for man no preoccupation more constant or more nagging than, while in a condition of freedom, quickly to find someone to bow down before. But man seeks to bow down before that which is already beyond dispute, so far beyond dispute that all human beings will instantly agree to a universal bowing-down before it. For the preoccupation of these miserable creatures consists not only in finding that before which I or another may bow down, but in finding something that everyone can come to believe in and bow down before, and that it should indeed be everyone, and that they should do it all together. It is this need for a community of bowing-down that has been the principal torment of each individual person and of mankind as a whole since the earliest ages. For the sake of a universal bowing-down they have destroyed one another with the sword. They have created gods and challenged one another: 'Give up your gods and come and worship ours or else death to you and to your gods!' And so it will be until the world's end, when even gods will vanish from the world: whatever happens, they will fall down before idols. You knew, you could not fail to know that peculiar secret of human nature, but you rejected the only absolute banner that was offered to you and that would have compelled everyone to bow down before you without dispute－the banner of earthly bread, and you rejected it in the name of freedom and the bread of heaven. Just take a look at what you did after that. And all of it again in the name of freedom! I tell you, man has no preoccupation more nagging than to find the person to whom that unhappy creature may surrender the gift of freedom with which he is born. But only he can take mastery of people's freedom who is able to set their consciences at rest. With bread you were given an undisputed banner: give bread and man will bow down, for nothing is more undisputed than bread, but if at the same time someone takes mastery of his conscience without your knowledge－oh, then he will even throw down your bread and follow the one who seduces his conscience. In that you were right. For the secret of human existence does not consist in living, merely, but in what one lives for. Without a firm idea of what he is to live for, man will not consent to live and will sooner destroy himself than remain on the earth, even though all around him there be loaves. That is so, but how has it worked out? Instead of taking mastery of people's freedom, you have increased that freedom even further! Or did you forget that peace of mind and even death are dearer to man than free choice and the cognition of good and evil? There is nothing more seductive for man than the freedom of his conscience, but there is nothing more tormenting for him, either. And so then in place of a firm foundation for the easing of the human conscience once and for all－you took everything that was exceptional, enigmatic and indeterminate, took everything that was beyond people's capacity to bear, and therefore acted as though you did not love them at all－and who was this? The one who had come to sacrifice his life for them! Instead of taking mastery of people's freedom, you augmented it and saddled the spiritual kingdom of man with it for ever. You desired that man's love should be free, that he should follow you freely, enticed and captivated by you. Henceforth, in place of the old, firm law, man was himself to decide with a free heart what is good and what is evil, with only your image before him to guide him－but surely you never dreamed that he would at last reject and call into question even your image and your truth were he to be oppressed by so terrible a burden as freedom of choice? They will exclaim at last that the truth is not in you, for it would have been impossible to leave them in more confusion and torment than you did when you left them so many worries and unsolvable problems. Thus, you yourself laid the foundation for the destruction of your own kingdom, and no one else should be blamed for it. And yet is that really what was offered you? There are three powers, only three powers on the earth that are capable of eternally vanquishing and ensnaring the consciences of those feeble mutineers, for their happiness－those powers are: miracle, mystery and authority. You rejected the first, the second and the third, and yourself gave the lead in doing so. When the wise and terrible Spirit set you on a pinnacle of the temple and said to you: 'If you would know whether you are the Son of God, then cast yourself down from hence, for it is written that the angels will take charge of him and bear him up, and he will not fall and dash himself to pieces－and then you will know if you are the Son of God, and will prove how much faith you have in your Father.' But having heard him through, you rejected his offer and did not give way and did not cast yourself down. Oh, of course, in that you acted proudly and magnificently, like God, but people, that weak, mutinying tribe－are they gods? Oh, that day you understood that by taking only one step, the step of casting yourself down, you would instantly have tempted the Lord and would have lost all faith in him, and would have dashed yourself to pieces against the earth which you had come to save, and the clever Spirit which had tempted you would rejoice. But, I repeat, are there many such as you? And could you really have supposed, even for a moment, that people would have the strength to resist such a temptation? Is human nature really of a kind as to be able to reject the miracle, and to make do, at such terrible moments of life, moments of the most terrible fundamental and tormenting spiritual questions, with only a free decision of the heart? Oh, you knew that your great deed would be preserved in the Scriptures, would attain to the depth of the ages and to the outermost limits of the earth, and you hoped that, in following you, man too would make do with God, not requiring a miracle. But you did not know that no sooner did man reject the miracle than he would at once reject God also, for man does not seek God so much as miracles. And since man is not strong enough to get by without the miracle, he creates new miracles for himself, his own now, and bows down before the miracle of the quack and the witchcraft of the peasant woman, even though he is a mutineer, heretic and atheist a hundred times over. You did not come down from the Cross when they shouted to you, mocking and teasing you: 'Come down from the Cross and we will believe that it is You.' You did not come down because again you did not want to enslave man with a miracle and because you thirsted for a faith that was free, not miraculous. You thirsted for a love that was free, not for the servile ecstasies of the slave before the might that has inspired him with dread once and for all. But even here you had too high an opinion of human beings, for of course, they are slaves, though they are created mutineers. Look around you and judge, now that fifteen centuries have passed, take a glance at them: which of them have you borne up to yourself? Upon my word, man is created weaker and more base than you supposed! Can he, can he perform the deeds of which you are capable? In respecting him so much you acted as though you had ceased to have compassion for him, because you demanded too much of him－and yet who was this? The very one you had loved more than yourself! Had you respected him less you would have demanded of him less, and that would have been closer to love, for his burden would have been lighter. He is weak and dishonourable. So what if now he mutinies against your power and is proud of his mutiny? This is the pride of a small boy, a schoolboy. These are little children, mutinying in class and driving out their teacher. But the ecstasy of the little boys will come to an end, it will cost them dearly. They will overthrow the temples and soak the earth in blood. But at last the stupid children will realize that even though they are mutineers, they are feeble mutineers, who are unable to sustain their mutiny. In floods of stupid tears they will at last recognize that the intention of the one who created them mutineers was undoubtedly to make fun of them. They will say this in despair, and their words will be blasphemy, which will make them even more unhappy, for human nature cannot endure blasphemy and in the end invariably takes revenge for it. Thus, restlessness, confusion and unhappiness－those are the lot of human beings now, after all that you underwent for the sake of their freedom! Your great prophet says in an allegorical vision that he saw all those who took part in the first resurrection and that of each tribe there were twelve thousand. But if there were so many of them, they cannot have been human beings, but gods. They had borne your Cross, they had borne decades in the hungry and barren wilderness, living on roots and locusts－and of course, it goes without saying that you may point with pride to those children of freedom, of a love that is free, of the free and magnificent sacrifice they have made in your name. Remember, however, that there were only a few thousand of them, and those were gods－but what about the rest? And in what way are the other weak human beings to blame for not having been able to bear the same things as the mighty? In what way is the weak soul to blame for not having the strength to accommodate such terrible gifts? And indeed, did you really only come to the chosen ones and for the chosen ones? But if that is so, then there is a mystery there and it is not for us to comprehend it. And if there is a mystery, then we were within our rights to propagate that mystery and teach them that it was not the free decision of their hearts and not love that mattered, but the mystery, which they must obey blindly, even in opposition to their consciences. And that was what we did. We corrected your great deed and founded it upon miracle, mystery and authority. And people were glad that they had once been brought together into a flock and that at last from their hearts had been removed such a terrible gift, which had brought them so much torment. Were we right, to teach and act thus, would you say? Did we not love mankind, when we so humbly admitted his helplessness, lightening his burden with love and allowing his feeble nature even sin, but with our permission? Why have you come to get in our way now? And why do you gaze at me so silently and sincerely with those meek eyes of yours? Why do you not get angry? I do not want your love, because I myself do not love you. And what is there I can conceal from you? Do you think I don't know who I'm talking to? What I have to say to you is all familiar to you already, I can read it in your eyes. And do you think I would conceal our secret from you? Perhaps it is my own lips that you want to hear it from－then listen: we are not with you, but with him, there is our secret! We have long been not with you, but with him, eight centuries now. It is now just eight centuries since we took from him that which you in indignation rejected, that final gift he offered you, when he showed you all the kingdoms of the world: we took from him Rome and the sword of Caesar and announced that we alone were the kings of the world, the only kings, even though to this day we have not succeeded in bringing our task to its complete fulfilment. But whose is the blame for that? Oh, this task is as yet only at its beginning, but it has begun. The world will have to wait for its accomplishment for a long time yet, and it will have to suffer much, but we shall reach our goal and shall be Caesars and then we shall give thought to the universal happiness of human beings. And yet even back then you could have taken the sword of Caesar. Why did you reject that final gift? Had you accepted that third counsel of the mighty Spirit, you would have supplied everything that man seeks in the world, that is: someone to bow down before, someone to entrust one's conscience to, and a way of at last uniting everyone into an undisputed, general and consensual ant-heap, for the need of universal union is the third and final torment of human beings. Invariably mankind as a whole has striven to organize itself on a universal basis. Many great peoples have there been, and peoples with great histories, but the loftier those peoples, the more unhappy, for more acutely than others have they been conscious of the need for a universal union of human beings. The great conquerors, the Tamburlaines and Genghis Khans, hurtled like a whirlwind through the world, striving to conquer the universe, but even they, though they did so unconsciously, expressed the same great need of mankind for universal and general union. Had you accepted the world and the purple of Caesar, you would have founded a universal kingdom and given men universal peace. For who shall reign over human beings if not those who reign over their consciences and in whose hands are their loaves? Well, we took the sword of Caesar, and, of course, in taking it rejected you and followed him. Oh, centuries yet will pass of the excesses of the free intellect, of their science and anthropophagy, because, having begun to erect their Tower of Babel without us, they will end in anthropophagy. But then the beast will come crawling to our feet and lick them and sprinkle them with the bloody tears from his eyes. And we will sit upon the beast and raise the cup, and on it will be written: MYSTERY! But then and only then for human beings will begin the kingdom of peace and happiness. You are proud of your chosen ones, but all you have are chosen ones, and we shall bring rest to all. And there is more: how many of those chosen ones, of the mighty, who might have become chosen ones, at last grew tired of waiting for you, and have transferred and will yet transfer the energies of their spirits and the fervour of their hearts to a different sphere and end by raising their free banner against you. But it was you yourself who raised that banner. In our hands, though, everyone will be happy and will neither mutiny nor destroy one another any more, as they do in your freedom, wherever one turns. Oh, we shall persuade them that they will only become free when they renounce their freedom for us and submit to us. And what does it matter whether we are right or whether we are telling a lie? They themselves will be persuaded we are right, for they will remember to what horrors of slavery and confusion your freedom has brought them. Freedom, the free intellect and science will lead them into such labyrinths and bring them up against such miracles and unfathomable mysteries that some of them, the disobedient and ferocious ones, will destroy themselves; others, disobedient and feeble, will destroy one another, while a third group, those who are left, the feeble and unhappy ones, will come crawling to our feet, and will cry out to us: 'Yes, you were right, you alone were masters of his secret, and we are returning to you, save us from ourselves.' Receiving loaves from us, of course, they will clearly see that what we have done is to take from them the loaves they won with their own hands in order to distribute it to them without any miracles, they will see that we have not turned stones into loaves, but truly, more than of the bread, they will be glad of the fact that they are receiving it from our hands! For they will be only too aware that in former times, when we were not there, the very loaves they won used merely to turn to stones in their hands, and yet now they have returned to us those very same stones have turned back to loaves again. All too well, all too well will they appreciate what it means to subordinate themselves to us once and for all! And until human beings understand that, they will be unhappy. Who contributed most of all to that lack of understanding, tell me? Who split up the flock and scattered it over the unknown ways? But the flock will once more gather and once more submit and this time it will be for ever. Then we shall give them a quiet, reconciled happiness, the happiness of feeble creatures, such as they were created. Oh, we shall persuade them at last not to be proud, for you bore them up and by doing so taught them to be proud; we shall prove to them that they are feeble, that they are merely pathetic children, but that childish happiness is sweeter than all others. They will grow fearful and look at us and press themselves to us in their fear, like nestlings to their mother. They will marvel at us and regard us with awe and be proud that we are so powerful and so clever as to be able to pacify such a turbulent, thousand-million-headed flock. They will feebly tremble with fright before our wrath, their minds will grow timid, their eyes will brim with tears, like those of women and children, but just as lightly at a nod from us will they pass over into cheerfulness and laughter, radiant joy and happy children's songs. Yes, we shall make them work, but in their hours of freedom from work we shall arrange their lives like a childish game, with childish songs, in chorus, with innocent dances. Oh, we shall permit them sin, too, they are weak and powerless, and they will love us like children for letting them sin. We shall tell them that every sin can be redeemed as long as it is committed with our leave; we are allowing them to sin because we love them, and as for the punishment for those sins, very well, we shall take it upon ourselves. And we shall take it upon ourselves, and they will worship us as benefactors who have assumed responsibility for their sins before God. And they shall have no secrets from us. We shall permit them or forbid them to live with their wives or paramours, to have or not to have children－all according to the degree of their obedience－and they will submit to us with cheerfulness and joy. The most agonizing secrets of their consciences－all, all will they bring to us, and we shall resolve it all, and they will attend our decision with joy, because it will deliver them from the great anxiety and fearsome present torments of free and individual decision. And all will be happy, all the millions of beings, except for the hundred thousand who govern them. For only we, we, who preserve the mystery, only we shall be unhappy. There will be thousands upon millions of happy babes, and a hundred thousand martyrs who have taken upon themselves the curse of the knowledge of good and evil. Quietly they will die, quietly they will fade away in your name and beyond the tomb will find only death. But we shall preserve the secret and for the sake of their happiness will lure them with a heavenly and eternal reward. For if there were anything in the other world, it goes without saying that it would not be for the likes of them. It is said and prophesied that you will come and prevail anew, will come with your chosen, your proud and mighty ones, but we will say that they have saved only themselves, while we have saved all. It is said that the whore who sits on the beast holding her MYSTERY will be disgraced, that the weak will rise up in mutiny again, that they will tear her purple and render naked her 'desolate' body. But then I shall arise and draw your attention to the thousands upon millions of happy babes, who know not sin. And we, who for the sake of their happiness have taken their sins upon us, we shall stand before you and say: 'Judge us if you can and dare.' You may as well know that I am not afraid of you. You may as well know that I too was in the wilderness, that I too nourished myself on roots and locusts, that I too blessed the freedom with which you have blessed human beings, I too prepared myself to join the number of your chosen ones, the number of the strong and the mighty, with a yearning to 'fulfil the number'. But I came to my senses again and was unwilling to serve madness. I returned and adhered to the crowd of those who have corrected your great deed. I left the proud and returned to the humble for the sake of their happiness. What I say to you will come to pass, and our kingdom shall be accomplished. I tell you again: tomorrow you will see that obedient flock, which at the first nod of my head will rush to rake up the hot embers to the bonfire on which I am going to burn you for having come to get in our way. For if there ever was one who deserved our bonfire more than anyone else, it is you. Tomorrow I am going to burn you. Dixi."'

Ivan paused. He had grown flushed from talking, and talking with passion; now that he had stopped, however, he suddenly smiled.

Alyosha, who had listened to him all this time without saying anything, though towards the end, in a state of extreme agitation, he had several times attempted to interrupt the flow of his brother's speech, but had evidently held himself in check, suddenly began to speak as though he had leapt into motion.

'But ... that is preposterous!' he exclaimed, turning red. 'Your poem is a eulogy of Jesus, not a vilification of him, as you intended it. And who will listen to you on the subject of freedom? That is a fine way, a fine way to understand it! That is not how it's understood in the Orthodox faith. That's Rome, and not even Rome completely, either, that isn't true－it's the worst elements in Catholicism, the inquisitors, the Jesuits! ... And in any case, a fantastic character like your Inquisitor could not possibly have existed. What are these sins of human beings that have been taken by others upon themselves? Who are these bearers of mystery who have taken upon themselves some kind of curse for the sake of human happiness? Whoever heard of such people? We know the Jesuits, bad things are said of them, but they're not as they appear in your poem, are they? They're not at all like that, in no way like that ... They are simply a Roman army for a future universal earthly kingdom, with an emperor－the Pontiff of Rome－at their head ... That is their ideal, but without any mysteries or exalted melancholy ... The most straightforward desire for power, for sordid earthly blessings, for enslavement ... like a future law of serf-ownership, with themselves as the owners ... that's all they care about. Why, they probably don't even believe in God. Your suffering Inquisitor is only a fantasy ...'

'Hold on, hold on,' Ivan said, laughing. 'What a temper you're in. A fantasy, you say－very well! All right, it's a fantasy. But wait a moment: do you really suppose that the whole of that Catholic movement of recent centuries is nothing but a desire for power in order to attain earthly comfort? That wouldn't be something Father Paisy taught you, would it?'

'No, no, on the contrary, Father Paisy did actually once say something that was slightly similar to your idea ... but of course it wasn't the same, not the same at all,' Alyosha suddenly remembered.

'A valuable piece of information, nevertheless, in spite of your "not the same at all". The question I want to ask you is why have your Jesuits and inquisitors joined together for the sole purpose of attaining wretched material comfort? Why may there not be among them a single martyr, tormented by a great Weltschmerz and loving mankind? Look: suppose that out of all those who desire nothing but sordid material comfort there is just one－just one, like my aged Inquisitor－who has himself eaten roots in the wilderness and raged like one possessed as he conquered his flesh in order to make himself free and perfect, though all his life he has loved mankind and has suddenly had his eyes opened and seen that there is not much moral beatitude in attaining perfect freedom if at the same time one is convinced that millions of the rest of God's creatures have been stitched together as a mere bad joke, that they will never have the strength to cope with their freedom, that from pathetic mutineers there will never grow giants to complete the building of the Tower, that not for such geese did the great idealist dream of his harmony. Having understood all that, he returned and joined forces with ... the clever people. Could that really not happen?'

'A fine lot of people he joined! How can one call them clever?' Alyosha exclaimed, almost reckless in his passion. 'They have no intelligence, nor do they have any mysteries or secrets ... Except perhaps atheism－that is their only secret. Your Inquisitor doesn't believe in God, that's his whole secret!'

'So what if even that is true? At last you've realized it! And indeed it is true, that is indeed the only secret, but is that not suffering, even for a man such as he, who has wasted his entire life on a heroic feat in the wilderness, and has not been cured of his love for mankind? In the decline of his days he becomes clearly persuaded that only the counsel of the terrible Spirit could in any way reconstitute in tolerable order the feeble mutineers, "imperfect, trial creatures, who were created as a bad joke". And lo, persuaded of this, he sees that it is necessary to proceed according to the indication of the clever Spirit, the terrible Spirit of death and destruction, and to such end accept deceit and falsehood and lead people consciously to death and destruction and deceive them moreover all of the way, so that they do not notice whither they are being led, so that at least on the way those pathetic blind creatures shall believe themselves happy. And note that it is deceit in the name of the One in whose ideal the old man had all his life so passionately believed! Is that not a misfortune? And even if there were only one such man at the head of this entire army, "thirsting for power for the sake of mere sordid earthly blessings", then would not one such man be enough to produce a tragedy? Not only that: one such man, standing at their head, would be enough in order to establish at last the whole guiding idea of the Roman cause with all its armies and Jesuits, the loftiest idea of that cause. I declare to you outright that I firmly believe that these unique men have never been hard to find among those who stand at the head of the movement. Who can say－perhaps there have been such unique men even among the Roman pontiffs? Who can say－perhaps that accursed old man who loved mankind with such a stubborn, original love exists even now in the form of a whole crowd of such unique old men and not by mere accident but as a secret alliance, formed long ago for the preservation of the mystery, for its preservation from feeble and unhappy human beings, in order to make them happy. That is certainly the case, and must be so. I fancy that even among the Masons there is something of the same sort of mystery at the basis of their movement and that the Catholics hate the Freemasons so much because they see them as rivals, a division of the unity of the idea, while there must be one flock and one shepherd ... As a matter of fact, in defending my thesis like this, I feel like an author who is unable to withstand your criticism. Enough of this.'

'I think you are a Freemason yourself!' Alyosha suddenly let out. 'You don't believe in God,' he added, this time with extreme sorrow. It seemed to him, moreover, that his brother was gazing at him with mockery. 'How does your poem end?' he asked suddenly, looking at the ground. 'Or have we already had the end?'

'I was going to end it like this: when the Inquisitor falls silent, he waits for a certain amount of time to hear what his Captive will say in response. He finds His silence difficult to bear. He has seen that the Prisoner has listened to him all this time with quiet emotion, gazing straight into his eyes and evidently not wishing to raise any objection. The old man would like the Other to say something to him, even if it is bitter, terrible. But He suddenly draws near to the old man without saying anything and quietly kisses him on his bloodless, ninety-year-old lips. That is His only response. The old man shudders. Something has stirred at the corners of his mouth; he goes to the door, opens it and says to Him: "Go and do not come back ... do not come back at all ... ever ... ever!" And he releases him into "the town's dark streets and squares". The Captive departs.'

'And the old man?'

'The kiss burns within his heart, but the old man remains with his former idea.'

'And you along with him, you too?' Alyosha exclaimed sadly. Ivan laughed.

'Oh, Alyosha, why, you know, it's nonsense－it's just an incoherent poema by an incoherent student who has never so much as put two lines of verse to paper. Why are you taking it so seriously? Surely you don't think that now I shall go straight there, to the Jesuits, in order to join the crowd of people who are correcting His great deed? Oh Lord, what do I care about that? I mean, I told you, all I want to do is to hold out until I'm thirty, and then－dash the cup to the floor!'

'And the sticky leaf-buds, and the beloved tombs, and the blue sky, and the woman you love? How are you going to live, what are you going to love them with?' Alyosha exclaimed sadly. 'With a hell like that in your breast and your head, is it possible? No, of course you're going to join them ... and if you don't, you'll kill yourself, you won't be able to endure!'

'There is a power that can endure everything!' Ivan said, with a cold, ironic smile now.

'What power?'

'The Karamazovian power ... the power of Karamazovian baseness.'

'You mean, to drown in depravity, to crush the life from your soul in corruption, is that it, is that it?'

'Possibly that too ... Only perhaps when I'm thirty, I shall escape, and then ...'

'But how will you escape? With what means will you escape? With your ideas it's impossible.'

'Again, the Karamazovian way.'

'So that "all things are lawful"? All things are lawful, is that what you mean, is that it?'

Ivan frowned and suddenly turned strangely pale.

'Ah, you've got hold of the little remark I made yesterday at which Miusov took such offence ... and which brother Dmitry was so naïve as to butt in and repeat?' he said, smiling a crooked smile. 'Yes, perhaps: "all things are lawful", since the remark has been made. I do not disown it. And dear Mitya's version of it is not so bad, either.'

Alyosha stared at him without saying anything.

'In leaving, brother, I had imagined that in all the world I have only you,' Ivan said suddenly, with unexpected emotion, 'but now I see that in your heart there is no room for me, my dear hermit. I do not disown the formula "all things are lawful", but, I mean, are you going to disown me because of it－eh? eh?'

Alyosha rose, walked over to him, and without saying anything kissed him quietly on the lips.

'Literary thieving!' Ivan exclaimed, suddenly passing into a kind of ecstasy. 'You stole that from my poema! But never mind, I thank you. Come on, Alyosha, let us go, it is time both for you and for me.'

They went outside, but paused by the entrance to the inn.

'Look, Alyosha,' Ivan pronounced in a resolute voice. 'If I am indeed capable of loving the sticky leaf-buds, then I shall love them at the mere memory of you. It is enough for me that you are somewhere here, and I shan't yet lose my will to live. Is that enough for you? If you like, you may take it as a confession of love. But now you must go to the right, and I to the left－and enough, do you hear, enough. That is to say that if it proves that I do not leave tomorrow (though it seems to me that I most certainly shall) and we were again to meet somehow, then I want you not to say another word to me on all these subjects. I earnestly request you. And concerning brother Dmitry I also particularly request that you not even so much as mention him to me ever again,' he added in sudden irritation. 'It's all settled and decided, isn't it? And in exchange for that, I for my part will also give you a certain promise: when I attain the age of thirty and want to "dash the cup to the floor" then, wherever you are, I shall come once again to discuss things with you ... even if it's from America, I shall have you know. I shall come specially. It will be very interesting to set eyes on you at that time: what will you be like? You see, it's quite a solemn sort of promise. And indeed it may well be that we are saying goodbye for seven, for ten years. Well, go to your Pater Seraphicus now, after all, he is dying; if he dies in your absence you may well be angry at me for having kept you back. Goodbye, kiss me once more－like that－and go ...'

Ivan suddenly turned and went his way, without looking round this time. It resembled the manner in which brother Dmitry had left Alyosha the day before, though then the mood had been quite different. This strange little observation flashed, like an arrow, through Alyosha's sad mind, sad and sorrowful at that moment. He waited for a bit as he watched his brother go. For some reason he suddenly noticed that brother Ivan walked with a kind of sway and that, seen from behind, his right shoulder looked lower than his left. Never had he observed this previously. Suddenly, however, he also turned and set off almost at a run in the direction of the monastery. It was by now getting very dark, and he felt a sense that was almost one of fear; something new was growing within him, something he was unable to account for. The wind rose again, as it had done yesterday, and the ancient pine trees soughed darkly around him as he entered the hermitage woods. He was almost running. 'Pater Seraphicus'－that name, he had taken it from somewhere－where?－flashed through Alyosha's brain. 'Ivan, poor Ivan, and when will I see you again ... Here is the hermitage, O Lord! Yes, yes, it is him, it is Pater Seraphicus, he will save me ... from him and for ever!'

Later on, several times in his life, he recollected that moment with great bewilderment, wondering how he could suddenly, having only just parted with Ivan, so completely forget his brother Dmitry, who that morning, only a few hours ago, he had determined to track down, vowing not to return without having done so, even if it meant he could not go back to the monastery that night.

Selections from The House of the Dead

Our prison stood at the edge of the fortress, right next to the ramparts. You would sometimes take a look at God's world through the cracks in the fence: surely there must be something to be seen?－and all you would see would be a corner of sky and the high earthen ramparts, overgrown with weeds, and on the ramparts the sentries pacing up and down, day and night; and then you would think that whole years would go by, and you would still come to look through the cracks in the fence and would see the same ramparts, the same sentries and the same little corner of sky, not the sky that stood above the prison, but another, distant and free. Imagine a large courtyard, two hundred yards long and a hundred and fifty yards wide, completely enclosed all round by a high stockade in the form of an irregular hexagon, that is a fence of high posts (pales), driven vertically deep into the earth, wedged closely against one another in ribs, strengthened by cross-planks and sharpened on top: this was the outer enclosure of the prison. In one of the sides of the enclosure a sturdily constructed gate was set; this was always kept closed and was guarded by sentries at every hour of the day and night; it was opened on demand, in order to let men out to work. Beyond the gate was the bright world of freedom where people lived like everyone else. But to those on this side of the enclosure that world seemed like some unattainable fairyland. Here was our own world, unlike anything else; here were our own laws, our own dress, our own manners and customs, here was the house of the living dead, a life like none other upon earth, and people who were special, set apart. It is this special corner that I am setting out to describe.

As you enter the enclosure, you see several buildings inside it. On both sides of a broad inner courtyard stretch two long, single-storeyed buildings with wooden frames. These are the barracks. Here the convicts live, quartered according to the categories they belong to. Then, in the interior of the enclosure, there is another similar wooden-framed building: this is the kitchen, divided into two artels; further on there is another structure where cellars, granaries and storage sheds of various kinds are housed under one roof. The middle of the courtyard is empty and consists of a fairly large level parade ground. Here the convicts are formed into line, head-counts and roll-calls take place in the morning, at noon and in the evening, and sometimes at several other times of the day as well, depending on how suspicious the guards are and how quickly they can count. All around, between the buildings and the fence, a fairly large space is left. Here, along the rear of the buildings, some of the prisoners, the most unsociable and gloomy ones, like to walk in their non-working hours, concealed from the eyes of everyone, and think their own private thoughts. Meeting them in the course of these walks, I used to like to look into their sullen, branded faces and try to guess what they were thinking about. There was one convict whose favourite occupation in his free time was counting the pales of the fence. Of these there were about one and a half thousand, and he knew each of them individually, had counted each one. Each pale signified a day for him; every day he marked off one of them and in this way, from the number of pales that still remained to be counted, he could see how many days he still had to serve in the prison before his term of hard labour was up. He was sincerely glad whenever he finished a side of the hexagon. He had many years still to wait; but in prison there was time in which to learn patience. I once saw a convict who had been in prison for twenty years and was at last going out into freedom saying farewell to his companions. There were those who could remember when he had first entered the prison, young, carefree, never having given a thought either to his crime or to the punishment he had received. He was leaving prison a grey-haired old man, with a face that was sad and morose. He went the rounds of all six of our barracks in silence. As he entered each one, he prayed to the icons and then bowed to his companions deeply, from the waist, asking them to remember him with kindness. I also remember how a convict who had been a well-to-do Siberian peasant was summoned to the gate one evening. Six months earlier he had been given the news that his former wife had remarried, and he had been violently affected with grief. Now she herself had come to the prison, had asked to see him and had given him alms. They spoke together for a couple of minutes, both shed a few tears, and then took leave of one another forever. I saw his face when he returned to the barracks ... Yes, in this place you could learn patience.

When it got dark we were all taken back to the barracks, where we were locked up for the whole night. I always found it hard to come into our barrack from outside. It was a long, low unventilated room, dimly lit by tallow candles, with a heavy suffocating smell. I do not understand now how I managed to live in it for ten years. I had three boards of the plank bed to sleep on: that was all the space I had that was mine. On this plank bed some thirty men slept in our room alone. In winter the door was locked early; there were some four hours to wait before everyone was asleep. And until then there were noise, uproar, laughter, swearing, the sound of chains, soot and fumes, shaven heads, branded faces, ragged clothes, all that is accursed and dishonoured ... yes, man has great endurance! Man is a creature that can get used to anything, and I think that is the best definition of him.

In our prison there were about two hundred and fifty men－this figure was more or less constant. Some arrived, others finished their sentences and left, others died. And what a variety of men there was! I think that each province, each zone of Russia had its representative here. There were non-Russians as well, there were even some convicts from among the mountain tribesmen of the Caucasus. They were all divided according to the degree of their crime and consequently according to the number of years their sentence carried. I suppose there was no crime that did not have its representative here. The basic constituent of the prison population was civilian-category convict deportees (ssyl'nokatorzhnyye, or sil'nokatorzhnyye－'heavily punished convicts'－as the men themselves, mispronounced it in all innocence). These were criminals who had been completely deprived of all the rights of their status, pieces cut from society, with faces that had been branded in eternal witness to their expulsion from it. They were sentenced to hard labour for terms of from eight to twelve years and were then sent to live as settlers here and there throughout the regions of Siberia. There were also criminals of the military category; as is the custom in Russian military convict battalions, they were not deprived of the rights of their status. They were given short sentences; on the completion of these they were sent back where they had come from, to serve as soldiers in the Siberian line battalions. Many of them returned to prison almost immediately, after committing a second, serious offence, and this time their sentence would not be short, but one of twenty years. This category was known as 'habitual'. But the 'habituals' were still not completely deprived of all the rights of their status. Finally, there was one more category, a fairly numerous one, made up of the most serious criminals, soldiers for the most part. It was called the 'special category'. Criminals were sent here from all over Russia. They considered themselves prisoners for life and did not know the length of their sentences. By law they had to perform two or three times the normal number of prison duties. They were being kept in the prison pending the opening in Siberia of projects involving the heaviest penal labour. 'You're doing time, but we're in for life,' they used to say to the other inmates. I have heard that this category has since been abolished. What is more, the civilian category in our prison has also been abolished, and one general military convict battalion has been instituted. Of course, the prison authorities were also changed when these innovations were brought about. So I am describing bygone days, things that belong long ago in the past ...

This all happened long ago; it all seems to me like a dream now. I remember my arrival in the prison. It was in the evening, in December. It was already getting dark; men were returning from work; they were getting ready for roll-call. At length a mustachioed NCO opened the door for me into this strange house in which I was to spend so many years, to endure sensations of which I could not have had even an approximate conception, had I not experienced them in actuality. For example, I could never have conceived how terrible and agonizing it would be not once, not even for one minute of all the ten years of my imprisonment, to be alone. At work to be constantly under guard, in the barracks to be with two hundred other convicts and not once, never once to be alone! None the less, I had to get used to this, too, whether I liked it or not.

Here there were men who had committed unpremeditated murder and those for whom it was a profession; here too there were brigands and brigand chiefs. There were petty thieves and vagrants who had been convicted of burglary with breaking and entering. There were also those about whom it was difficult to decide why they had been sent here. All the same, each of them had his own story to tell, as vague and crushing as the hangover that follows a bout of heavy drinking. In general, they did not talk much about the past, did not like telling their stories, and evidently tried not to think about what lay behind them. I even knew murderers among them who were so cheerful, so completely lacking in concern about what they had done, that one could safely bet their consciences never bothered them. But there were also gloomy ones, who practically never said a word. In general it was rare for anyone to tell the story of his life, and curiosity was unfashionable, somehow not the done thing, not the custom. Perhaps on rare occasions someone might start talking out of idleness, and someone else would listen to him in gloom and indifference. No one could say anything that was a surprise here. 'We know how to read and write,' they would often say with a kind of strange satisfaction. I remember that once a brigand who was drunk (it was sometimes possible to get drunk in prison) began to describe how he had knifed to death a five-year-old boy, first enticing him with a toy, then taking him to an empty shed somewhere and murdering him. The whole barrack of convicts, who up till now had been laughing at his jokes, cried out as one man, and the brigand was compelled to be silent; the men had cried out not from indignation, but because you were not allowed to talk about this kind of thing, because it was not done to talk about this kind of thing. I will observe in passing that these men really did 'know how to read and write', and this not in any figurative sense but in a quite literal one. It is probable that over half of them were literate. In what other place where ordinary Russians are gathered together in large numbers would you be able to find a group of two hundred and fifty men, half of whom could read and write? I have since heard that someone has deduced from similar evidence that literacy is harmful to the common people. This is a mistake: causes of quite another kind are involved here, although it cannot be denied that literacy does develop the common people's self-sufficiency. But this is surely not a fault. Each category of convicts was distinguished by the clothes it wore: the jackets of some were half dark brown and half grey, as were their trousers－one leg grey, the other dark brown. Once, at work, a girl selling kalatches came up to the convicts, looked at me for a long time and then suddenly burst out laughing. 'Well, isn't that the limit,' she cried. 'There wasn't enough grey cloth to go round, and there wasn't enough of the black stuff neither.' There were also those whose jackets were all of grey cloth, with only the sleeves made of dark brown. The convicts' heads were also shaven in different ways: some had half their heads shaven lengthwise along their skulls, while others had them shaven crosswise.

You could discern at first glance one single glaring characteristic that was common to all this strange family: even the strongest, most original personalities who dominated the others without trying, even they attempted to fit in with the general tone of the prison. Generally speaking, all these men－with the exception of a few indefatigably cheerful souls whose good humour made them the object of general scorn－were sullen, curious, terribly vain, boastful, quick to take offence and preoccupied in the highest degree with good form. The ability not to be surprised by anything was considered the greatest virtue. They were all madly obsessed with the question of outward behaviour. But quite often the most arrogant manner would be replaced with the swiftness of lightning by the most craven one. There were a few genuinely strong individuals; they were straightforward and did not give themselves airs. But it was strange: some of these truly strong characters were vain to the utmost degree, almost to the point of insanity. In general vanity and outward appearance were what mattered first and foremost. The majority of these men were depraved and hopelessly corrupt. The scandals and gossip never ceased: this was a hell, a dark night of the soul. But no one dared to rebel against the endogenous and accepted rules of the prison; everyone submitted to them. There were violently unusual characters who submitted with difficulty and effort, but submit they did, nevertheless. To the prison came men who had gone too far, had overstepped the limit when they had been free, so that in the end it was as if their crimes had not been committed by them personally, as if they had committed them without knowing why, as if in some fever or daze; often out of vanity, raised in them to an extraordinary degree. But in our prison they were soon brought to heel, in spite of the fact that some of them, before they came here, had been the terror of whole villages and towns. Looking around him, the new convict soon realized that he had come to the wrong place: that there was no one here whom he could surprise, and imperceptibly he grew resigned and fitted in with the general tone. This general tone outwardly consisted of a certain special, personal dignity with which almost every inmate of the prison was imbued. As if the status of convict, of one on whom sentence has been passed, was a kind of rank, and an honourable one at that. Not a trace of shame or repentance! Yet there was, too, a kind of outward resignation, as it were an official one, a kind of calm reasoning: 'We're lost men,' they would say. 'We didn't know how to live our lives in freedom, so now we have to walk the green street and stand in line to be counted.'－'We wouldn't listen to our fathers and mothers, so now we must listen to the skin of the drum instead.'－'We didn't want to sew gold thread, so now we must break stones instead.' All this was said frequently, both in the form of moral exhortation and in the form of everyday proverbs and sayings, but never seriously. It was all just words. Hardly one of these men inwardly admitted his own lawlessness. If anyone who was not a convict tried to reproach one of them for his crime, berating him (although it is not in the Russian spirit to reproach a criminal), there would be no end to the oaths that would follow. And what masters of the oath they all were! They swore with finesse, with artistic skill. They had made a science of swearing; they tried to gain the upper hand not so much by means of the offensive word as they did through the offensive meaning, spirit, idea－and this in the most refined and venomous manner. Their constant quarrels developed this science among them even further. All these men worked under the threat of the stick, and were consequently idle and depraved: if they had not been depraved before they came to the prison, they became so here. They had all been gathered together here against their wills; they were all strangers to one another.

'The devil's worn out three pairs of shoes in order to get us all into one bunch,' they would say of themselves; and so it was that scandals, intrigues, old-womanish slander, envy, quarrelling and malice were always to the fore in this burdensome, desperate life. No old woman would have been capable of being so old-womanish as some of these murderers were. I repeat, there were strong men among them, characters who all their lives had been used to charging at obstacles and giving orders, who were hardened and fearless. These men were automatically respected; they, for their part, although very jealous of their reputations, tried in general not to be a burden to others, avoided getting involved in empty exchanges of curses, comported themselves with unusual dignity, were reasonable and nearly always obeyed the authorities－not out of any principle of obedience, not out of a consciousness of duty, but as if they had some kind of a contract, and recognized its mutual advantages. None the less, these men were treated with caution. I remember how one of these convicts, a man of fearless and determined character, well-known to the authorities for his brutal tendencies, was once summoned to be flogged for some misdemeanour. It was a summer day, work was over. The field-officer, who was in immediate and direct control of the prison, came in person to the guardhouse, which was right by our gate, in order to witness the punishment. This Major was a kind of fatal presence for the convicts; he could reduce them to a state of trembling. He was severe to the point of insanity, 'pounced on folk', as the convicts said. Most of all they feared his penetrating, lynx-like stare, from which nothing could be concealed. He could somehow see without looking. When he came into the prison he already knew what was happening at its far end. The prisoners called him 'Eight-Eyes'. His system was a mistaken one. By his acts of vicious fury he only increased the bitterness of men who were already bitter, and had there not been stationed above him a superintendent, a man of nobility and reason, who sometimes moderated his wild excesses, he would have caused much trouble by his method of administration. I cannot understand why he did not come to a bad end; he passed into retirement well and in good spirits, although he did have to face court proceedings.

The prisoner turned pale when his name was called. Usually he lay down under the birch in silent determination, endured his punishment without a word and got to his feet again afterwards as fresh as ever, looking coolly and philosophically at the misfortune that had overtaken him. He was none the less always treated with caution. But on this occasion he considered himself for some reason to be in the right. He turned pale, and in secret from the guards managed to shove a sharp English cobblers' knife up his sleeve. Knives, and all other sharp instruments, were strictly forbidden in the prison. Searches were frequent, unexpected and no joking matter, punishments were severe; but since it is difficult to find something on a thief's person when he is particularly determined to hide it, and since knives and sharp instruments were a continuous necessity in the prison, they never disappeared entirely. Even if they were confiscated, new ones immediately took their place. The entire prison rushed to the fence and looked through the cracks with hearts that beat violently. Everyone knew that this time Petrov would refuse to lie down and be flogged, and that the Major was done for. But at the most decisive moment our Major got into his droshky and drove away, entrusting the execution of the punishment to another officer. 'God has spared him!' the convicts said afterwards. As far as Petrov was concerned, he endured his punishment with the greatest of calm. His anger evaporated with the Major's departure. A convict is obedient and submissive to a certain degree; but there is a limit beyond which one should not go. Incidentally, there is no phenomenon more curious than these strange outbursts of impatience and obstinacy. Often a man will suffer in patience for several years, resign himself, endure the most savage punishments, and then suddenly erupt over some trifle, some piece of nonsense, almost over nothing at all. In one view, he may be termed insane; and is indeed considered so by many.

I have already said that for a period of several years I saw among these people not the slightest trace of repentance, not one sign that their crime weighed heavily on their conscience, and that the majority of them consider themselves to be completely in the right. This is a fact. Of course, vanity, bad examples, foolhardiness and false shame are the causes of much of it. On the other hand, who can say that he has fathomed the depths of these lost hearts and has read in them that which is hidden from the whole world? It must surely have been possible over so many years to have noticed something, to have caught at least some feature of these hearts that bore witness to an inner anguish, to suffering. But this was absent, quite definitely absent. Yet, it seems that crime cannot be comprehended from points of view that are already given, and that its philosophy is rather more difficult than is commonly supposed. Of course prisons and the system of forced labour do not reform the criminal; they only punish him and secure society against further encroachments on its tranquillity. In the criminal, prison and the most intense penal labour serve only to develop hatred, a thirst for forbidden pleasures and a terrible flippancy. But I am firmly convinced that the famous system of solitary confinement achieves only a spurious, deceptive, external goal. It sucks the vital sap from a man, enervates his soul, weakens it, intimidates it and then presents the withered mummy, the semilunatic as a model of reform and repentance. Of course the criminal, who has rebelled against society, hates it and nearly always considers himself to be in the right and it to be in the wrong. What is more, he has already suffered its punishment, and he nearly always considers that this has cleansed him and settled his account. It may be concluded from this point of view that right is indeed on the side of the criminal. But, leaving aside all partial positions, everyone will agree that there are crimes which, ever since the world began, always and everywhere, under all legal systems, have been indisputably considered as crimes, and will be considered so for as long as man is man. Only in prison have I heard stories of the most terrible, the most unnatural actions, the most monstrous slayings, told with the most irrepressible, the most childishly merry laughter. One man who had murdered his father stays particularly in my memory. He was of noble origin, had worked in government service and had been something of a prodigal son to his sixty-year-old father. His behaviour had been thoroughly dissipated, he had become embroiled in debt. His father had tried to exert a restraining influence on him, had tried to make him see reason; but the father had a house and a farm, it was suspected he had money, and－his son murdered him in order to get his hands on the inheritance. The crime was not discovered until a month later. The murderer had himself informed the police that his father had disappeared. He spent the whole of this month in the utmost debauchery. Finally, in his absence, the police discovered the body. In the farmyard, along the whole of its length, was a ditch for the draining of sewage, covered with planks. The body was found in this ditch. It was dressed and neatly arranged, the grey-haired head had been cut off and laid against the torso; under the head the murderer had placed a pillow. He had made no confession; had been stripped of his nobility and government service rank, and had been sentenced to twenty years' deportation and penal servitude. All the time I lived alongside him he was in the most excellent and cheerful frame of mind. He was an unbalanced, flippant man, unreasoning in the extreme, though by no means stupid. I never observed any particular signs of cruelty in him. The prisoners despised him, not for his crime, of which no mention was ever made, but for his silliness, for not knowing how to behave. Sometimes, in conversation, he would mention his father. Once, when he was talking to me about the healthy constitution that was hereditary in his family, he added: 'My parent never complained of any illness to the end of his days.' Such brutal lack of feeling is, of course, outrageous. It is a unique phenomenon; here there is some constitutional defect, some physical and moral abnormality which science has not yet been able to explain, not simply a question of crime. It goes without saying that at first I did not believe he had committed this crime. But men from his town, who must have known all the details of his story, told me about the whole case. The facts were so clear that it was impossible not to believe them.

The convicts once heard him crying out at night in his sleep: 'Hold him, hold him! His head, cut off his head, his head!'

Nearly all the convicts talked and raved in their sleep at night. Oaths, underworld slang, knives and axes figured most prominently in their ravings. 'We're beaten men,' they used to say, 'we've had the insides beaten out of us, that's why we cry out at night.'

The forced public labour that took place in the fortress was not an occupation but an obligation: a convict completed his assignment or worked fixed hours and then went back to the prison. The work was looked upon with hatred. Without his own, private task, to which he was devoted with all his mind and all his care, a man could not live in prison. And how indeed could all those men, who were intelligent, had lived intensely and wanted to live, had been brought forcibly together here in one herd, forcibly uprooted from society and normal life, how could they have led a normal and regular life here of their own free will? Idleness alone would have developed in them criminal tendencies of which they had hitherto had no conception. Without work and without lawful, normal possessions a man cannot live, he grows depraved, turns into an animal. And for this reason every man in the prison had, as a consequence of a natural demand and an instinct for self-preservation, his own craft and occupation. The long summer days were almost entirely filled with prison labour; in the short nights there was hardly enough time to sleep properly. But in winter, according to regulations, the convicts had to be locked into the prison as soon as it started to get dark. What were they to do during the long, tedious hours of the winter evenings? And so in spite of an official ban, almost every barrack was transformed into an enormous workshop. Work itself was not forbidden; but it was strictly forbidden to possess any implements in the prison, and without these work was impossible. But men worked on the sly, and it seemed that in some cases the authorities did not bother to inquire too closely. Many of the convicts arrived in the prison knowing no trade at all, but they learned from others and subsequently left prison as good craftsmen. Here there were bootmakers, shoemakers, tailors, carpenters, locksmiths, engravers and gilders. There was one Jew, Isay Bumshteyn, a jeweller who was also a moneylender. They all worked away and earned a few copecks. Orders for work were obtained from the town. Money is freedom in the form of coins, and so for a man who has been completely deprived of freedom it is ten times as dear. He is already half consoled by the mere sound of it jingling in his pocket, even though he may not be able to spend it. But money can be spent at any time and in any place, all the more so since forbidden fruit tastes twice as sweet. And it was even possible to get vodka in the prison. Pipes were most strictly forbidden, but all the men smoked them. Money and tobacco saved them from scurvy and other diseases. And work saved them from crime: without work the convicts would have eaten one another like spiders in a glass jar. In spite of this, both work and money were forbidden. Searches were quite often made at night, all forbidden items were confiscated, and no matter how carefully money was hidden, it was none the less sometimes found by the searchers. This is partly why it was not saved up, but soon spent on drink; and this is how there came to be vodka in the prison. After each search the offenders, in addition to being deprived of all their money and equipment, were usually severely flogged or beaten. But after each search the deficiencies were immediately made good, new equipment was brought into the prison and everything continued as before. The authorities were aware of this and the convicts did not complain about their punishment, even though this life they led resembled that of settlers on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius.

Those who did not have a skill made money by other methods. Some of these were quite original. Some men, for example, earned money by doing nothing but buying and selling secondhand goods, and sometimes personal effects were sold which it would never occur to anyone outside the walls of the prison to consider as articles for sale and purchase, or even to consider as articles at all. But the life of penal servitude was one of extreme poverty, and the convicts were men of great commercial resourcefulness. Every last scrap of cloth was prized and was used for some purpose or other. Because of the general poverty, money in the prison also possessed a value that was quite different from the value it had outside. Long and elaborate toil was remunerated with pennies. Some men practised successfully as moneylenders. Convicts who were too exhausted to work or had run out of money took their last possessions to the moneylender and received from him a few copper coins at an exorbitant rate of interest. If they did not redeem them in time, these possessions would be sold without pity or delay; moneylending was such a flourishing activity that even items of prison property which were subject to inspection were accepted as pledges, things like prison clothing, boots, shoes and the like－things that were necessary to every prisoner at every moment. But pledges like these involved another turn of events, one that was not really surprising: the man who had pledged the goods and received money for them would immediately, without further ado, go to the duty officer who was in immediate control of the prison, and report to him that public property had been pledged; the goods would be immediately confiscated back from the moneylender, without the higher authorities being informed of the matter. It is a curious fact that there were never any quarrels on this account: the moneylender would silently and sullenly hand over whatever he had to and would even make it appear as though he had been expecting something like this to happen all day. Perhaps he could not help admitting to himself that had he been in the borrower's place he would have done the same thing. And so if he sometimes did a bit of cursing after it was all over, it was without any malice, and merely to appease his conscience.

In general the convicts did a fearful amount of stealing from one another. They nearly all had their own locked boxes, in which they kept items of prison issue. This was permitted; but the boxes were no safeguard against theft. I think it may be imagined what skilful thieves we had among us. One prisoner, a man who was sincerely devoted to me (I say this without any exaggeration), stole my Bible, the only book we were permitted to have in the prison; he confessed to me the same day, not because he had repented for what he had done, but because he felt sorry for me when he saw me spend such a long time looking for it. There were men who peddled vodka and quickly grew rich. I will give a more detailed account of this trade elsewhere; it was rather remarkable. In the prison there were many convicts who had been sentenced for smuggling, and so it was not surprising that vodka was brought in, inspections and guards notwithstanding. Incidentally, smuggling is by its very nature something of a special crime. Can one believe, for example, that money and gain are of only secondary importance to a smuggler? And yet precisely this is the case. The smuggler works passionately, with a sense of vocation. He is something of a poet. He risks everything, faces terrible dangers, employs cunning, inventiveness, gets himself out of scrapes; sometimes he even acts according to some kind of inspiration. This passion is as strong as the passion for cards. In the prison I knew one convict who was outwardly of colossal proportions, but so gentle, quiet and resigned that it was impossible to imagine how he could ever have ended up in prison. He was so lacking in malice, so easy to get along with that during his entire stay in prison he never once quarrelled with anyone. But he came from the western frontier, had been sent to prison for smuggling and had of course not been able to restrain himself, but started to smuggle vodka into the prison. How many times he had been flogged for this, and how he feared the birch! And the trade in illicit vodka brought him only the most meagre returns. The only person who made any profit from the sale was the entrepreneur. The curious fellow loved his art for its own sake. He was as tearful as an old woman, and how many times after he had been flogged did he repent and swear never to smuggle again. He would sometimes master himself courageously for a whole month, but in the end he was always unable to hold out any longer ... It was thanks to characters such as him that there was no shortage of vodka in the prison.

Finally, there was one source of income which, although it did not make the convicts rich, was none the less constant and beneficial. This was alms. The upper class of our society has no conception of how our merchants, tradesmen and all our people care for the 'unfortunates'. Their alms are almost continuous and nearly always take the form of bread, bread rolls and kalatches, much less often that of money. Without these gifts, in many places the lives of the convicts, especially those who are awaiting trial and who are kept under a much stricter regime than are those on whom sentence has been passed, would be too hard. The gifts are religiously divided into even shares by the convicts. If there is not enough for everyone the loaves are cut into equal portions, sometimes into as many as six pieces, and each prisoner receives his piece without fail. I remember the first time I was given money. It was shortly after my arrival in the prison. I was returning from the morning's work alone with the guard. Towards me came a mother and her daughter, a little girl of about ten, as pretty as an angel. I had already seen them once before. The mother had been a soldier's wife and had been made a widow. Her husband, a young soldier, had been under arrest and had died in the convict ward of the hospital while I was ill there. His wife and daughter had come to say goodbye to him; both had cried terribly. When she saw me, the girl blushed and whispered something to her mother who immediately stopped, fished a quarter copeck out of her bag and gave it to her daughter. The little girl came rushing after me ... 'Here, "unfortunate", take a copeck in the name of Christ!' she cried, running out ahead of me and pressing the coin into my hand. I took her quarter copeck, and the girl returned to her mother thoroughly satisfied. I kept that quarter copeck for a long time.

First Impressions (1)

The first month and indeed the whole of the early phase of my life in prison come vividly to my mind's eye now. The years of prison that followed are much fainter in my memory. Some of them seem to have withdrawn completely into the background, mingling together, and leaving one undiluted impression of heaviness, monotony and suffocation.

But everything I experienced in the first days of my penal servitude seems to me now as though it had only happened yesterday. And this is the way it is bound to be.

I distinctly remember that, from the first step I took in this life, what struck me was that there seemed to be nothing striking, unusual, or shall I say unexpected about it. All this had seemed to flit before me in my mind's eye when on the march to Siberia I had tried to guess what lay in store for me. But soon a whole host of the strangest surprises and most monstrous facts began to pull me up at almost every step. It was only later, after I had lived in the prison for quite a long time, that I was able fully to comprehend the exceptional and surprising nature of this existence, and I marvelled at it more and more. To tell the truth, this sense of wonderment stayed with me throughout the entire long term of my imprisonment; I was never able to shake it off.

The first impression I had upon entering prison was a most loathsome one; but in spite of this－how strange!－it seemed to me that life there was much easier than I had imagined on the journey. Although the convicts wore fetters, they walked freely about the whole prison, swore, sang songs, did their own private work, smoked pipes, even drank vodka (though only a very few did this), and at night some of them played cards. The work itself, for example, did not seem at all like the hard, penal labour it was supposed to be, and I realized only much later on that its hardness and penal nature consisted not so much in its being difficult or unalleviated as in its being forced, compulsory, done under the threat of the stick. It is probable that the peasant in freedom works incomparably harder and longer, sometimes even at night, especially in the summer; but he works on his own account, with a reasonable end in view, and this makes it far easier for him than for the convict with his work that is compulsory and quite without use to him. The thought once occurred to me that if one wanted to crush and destroy a man entirely, to mete out to him the most terrible punishment, one at which the most fearsome murderer would tremble, shrinking from it in advance, all one would have to do would be to make him do work that was completely and utterly devoid of usefulness and meaning. Even though the work convicts do at present is both tedious and lacking in interest, in itself, as work, it is reasonable enough: the convicts make bricks, dig the land, do plastering, construction; in this work there is a sense and a purpose. The prison labourer sometimes develops quite a liking for such work, wants to do it more skilfully, faster, better. But if, let us say, he were forced to pour water from one tub into another and back again, time after time, to pound sand, to carry a heap of soil from one spot to another and back again－I think that such a convict would hang himself within a few days or commit a thousand offences in order to die, to escape from such degradation, shame and torment. Of course, such a punishment would quickly become a torture, a form of revenge, and would be pointless, because it would achieve no reasonable purpose. But since there is an element of this kind of torture, pointlessness, degradation and shame in all forced labour, the work that convicts do is vastly more unpleasant than any work done in freedom, simply because it is forced.

I arrived in the prison in winter, however, and had as yet no idea of the work which was done in summer, and which was five times as hard. In winter the amount of prison work done in our fortress was generally small. The convicts went to the River Irtysh to break up old wooden government barges, they worked in the workshops, shovelled the snowdrifts away from the government buildings after blizzards, baked and pounded alabaster, and so forth. The winter days were short, the work was soon at an end, and all our men made an early return to the prison, where there was practically nothing for them to do unless they happened to have their own work. But perhaps only a third of the convicts had work of their own, the rest frittered their time away, loitered aimlessly around all the prison barracks, swore, carried on intrigues, scandals, got drunk if a little money came their way; at night they would gamble away their last shirt at cards, and all this out of boredom, idleness and having nothing else to do. I subsequently came to understand that in addition to deprivation of freedom, in addition to forced labour, there is in a convict's life one more torment, one that is almost more powerful than all the others. This is forced communal existence. Communal existence is, of course, to be found in other places; but to the prison come such men as not everyone would care to cohabit with, and I am certain that all the convicts experienced this torment, even though for the most part they were not conscious of it.

The food, too, struck me as sufficient, on the whole. The convicts assured me that this was not the case in the convict battalions of European Russia. Of this I cannot judge: I have not been there. What is more, many of the convicts were able to have their own food. Beef cost half a copeck a pound, in summer it was three copecks. But only those convicts who had a constant supply of money could arrange to have their own food; most of them ate what the prison provided. When they praised the food they had in mind only the bread, and expressed satisfaction that it was distributed to all the men in common, and not portioned out by weight. This latter idea horrified them: if the bread had been distributed by weight a third of the men would have gone hungry; distributed to the artel, there was enough for everyone. The bread we were given was particularly appetizing, and its fame was well established in the town. People ascribed its high quality to the construction of the prison ovens. The cabbage soup was very unprepossessing. It was cooked in a common cauldron, was slightly thickened with meal and, especially on weekdays, was thin and watery. The enormous quantity of cockroaches it contained horrified me. But the convicts gave this no attention whatsoever.

For the first three days I did not go to work; every new arrival received this treatment, and was allowed to rest after the journey. But on my second day I had to go out of the prison to have new fetters put on me. The fetters I had were not the regulation ones, but were the ringed kind, 'jinglers', as the convicts called them. They were worn outside one's clothes. The regulation prison fetters which were designed to be worn at work consisted not of rings, but of four iron rods, each of almost a finger's thickness, connected by three rings. They had to be worn under one's trousers. To the middle ring a strap was fastened, which in its turn was fastened to the belt one wore next to one's shirt.

I remember my first morning in the barrack. In the guardhouse by the prison gate a drum beat through the dawn, and some ten minutes later the duty sergeant began to unlock the barracks. Men began to wake up. By the dim light of a tallow candle, the kind that is bought six to a pound, the convicts got up, shaking with cold, from their communal plank bed. Most of them were silent and sullen with sleep. They yawned, stretched and furrowed their branded foreheads. Some crossed themselves, others were already beginning to quarrel. The stuffiness was appalling. The fresh winter air burst in at the door as soon as it was opened, and flowed in clouds of steam through the room. The convicts crowded round the water buckets; in turns they took the dipper, filling their mouths with water and washing their hands and faces in it. The water was brought in the night before by the parashniK (latrine orderly). In accordance with prison regulations, each barrack had one convict, elected by the artel, whose responsibility it was to look after the room. He was called the parashniK, and did not go to work. His job was to keep the room clean, to wash and scrub the plank bed and the floor, to bring in and take out the night pail and to supply fresh water in two buckets－one in the morning, for washing, and another in the evening, for drinking. Quarrels began immediately over the dipper, of which there was only one.

'Where do you think you're shoving your way to, brand-head?' snarled one tall, morose-looking convict, lean and swarthy, with strange protuberances on his shaven skull, as he jabbed his elbow into another man, fat and stocky, with a merry red face. 'Stop where you are!'

'What are you shouting for? You have to pay folks for stopping where they are in our parts, you know; why don't you just clear off yourself? Gawd, look at him standing there, stiff as a monument. That means he's lacking in luckability, chums.'

The word 'luckability' produced a certain effect: many of the men laughed. This was all the genial fat man wanted. He was apparently the barrack's self-appointed jester. The tall prisoner looked at him with the most profound contempt.

'Fat sow!' he said, as if talking to himself. 'Look at him, stuffed with prison bread. Glad he's going to give birth to twelve little piglets in time for Christmas.'

At last the fat man grew angry.

'What kind of a bird are you, anyway?' he shouted suddenly, turning red in the face.

'Just a bird!'

'What kind?'

'This kind.'

'What kind's this kind?'

'Just this kind.'

'What kind?'

They both fixed their eyes on one another. The fat man waited for an answer, clenching his fists as though he meant to hurl himself straight into a fight. Indeed, I thought there was, in fact, going to be a fight. All this was new to me, and I watched with curiosity. But later on I realized that all such scenes were thoroughly harmless and practically never ended in fighting. All this was fairly typical, and was illustrative of the way men behaved in prison.

The tall convict stood calmly and majestically. He could feel that the prisoners were watching him and waiting to see if he would bring shame upon himself by his answer or not; that he had to sustain his position and prove that he really was a bird, and of what kind. He squinted at his adversary with inexpressible contempt, trying, in order to give the maximum offence, to look down on him over his shoulder, examining him as though he were an insect, and said, slowly and distinctly:

'King cockerel! ...'

Meaning that he ruled the roost. A loud volley of laughter greeted the man's quick-witted response.

'You're no king cockerel, you're a villain!' the fat man roared, sensing he had been outdone on all fronts, and flying into a violent rage.

But as soon as the quarrel started to take a serious turn, the two men were immediately set upon by the others.

'What's all the noise about?' the whole roomful of convicts yelled at them.

'Why don't you fight with your fists instead of your throats?' shouted somebody from a corner.

'That'll be the day,' came a voice in reply. 'We're a fearless lot, we are; as long as we're seven to one ...'

'They're a nice pair, aren't they! One of them's doing time for pinching a loaf of bread and the other's just a runaway who got caught.'

'All right, all right, that's enough out of you!' shouted the disabled veteran who lived in the barrack, supervising it, and sleeping in a corner on his own bunk.

'Water, lads! Vet'ran Petrovich has woken up! Water for Vet'ran Petrovich, our dear brother!'

'Brother? ... I'm no brother of yours. We've not so much as drunk a ruble's worth of vodka together, and now it's brother,' growled the veteran, struggling into the sleeves of his greatcoat ...

Preparations for roll-call were being made. It was beginning to get light; in the kitchen a dense and quite impenetrable crowd had gathered. The convicts in their sheepskin coats and bicoloured caps were thronging round the bread which one of the cooks was cutting up for them. The cooks were chosen by the artel, two to each kitchen. They had custody of the kitchen knife that was used to cut up bread and meat; each kitchen had one of these. The convicts were sitting in every corner and around the tables, dressed in their caps, sheepskin coats and belts, ready to go out to work instantly. In front of them stood wooden cups ofkvas. They crumbled their bread into it and sipped the mixture. The noise and hubbub were intolerable; but some men were talking reasonably and quietly in the corners.

'Good appetite, old man Antonych, and good morning to you!' said a young convict, as he sat down beside one who was toothless and frowning.

'Well, good morning, if you mean it seriously,' said the old man without raising his eyes, trying to chew his bread with his toothless jaws.

'You know, Antonych, I thought you were dead, I really did.'

'No, you can die first, I'll follow on later ...'

I sat down beside them. On my right two sedate convicts were holding a conversation, each evidently trying to preserve his dignity before the other.

'No one's going to steal anything from me,' one of them was saying. 'It's more likely I'll steal something from somebody else.'

'Well, keep your hands off my money or I'll give them a nasty burn.'

'Nasty burn, eh? Come off it, you're just an ordinary con like the rest of us; cons, that's what we are ... she'll grab all your money without so much as a by-your-leave. That's how my last copeck went. She came here herself the other day. I didn't know where to take her. I tried Fedka the hangman, he used to have a house in the outskirts, bought it from Scab Solomon he did, the Jew that hanged himself ...'

'I know him. He was one of the vodka sellers here three years ago, they used to call him Grishka Blackboozer. I know.'

'The hell you do; Blackboozer was somebody else.'

'No, he wasn't! A fat lot you know. I've got that many witnesses ...'

'Oh yes? Where are you going to get them from, and who do you think I am?'

'Who do I think you are? You, the one I used to beat the living daylights out of, no kidding, and you're asking who do I think you are?'

'Beat the living daylights out of, I like that. The man's not been born that could beat me in a fight; and them that's tried it are pushing up the daisies now.'

'Bender pox.'

'I hope you get the Siberian blackrot.'

'I hope you end up talking to a Turkish sabre ...'

And the cursing continued.

'Here, here, here! What a racket!' came the cry from men all around. 'Couldn't live as free men, now they're glad they've got white bread to eat ...'

This quietened the two men down at once. Cursing and 'tongue-lashing' were allowed. They were in part an entertainment for the other prisoners. But fighting was not always allowed, and it was only in exceptional cases that two enemies would come to blows. Fighting was reported to the Major; searches would begin, the Major himself would arrive－in short, it would be no good for anyone, and for this reason fighting was not allowed. And indeed it was rather for the sake of entertainment and as a verbal exercise that the two enemies swore at one another. Not infrequently they would deceive themselves, they would begin in a terrible fevered frenzy, and you would think: in a minute they're going to throw themselves on one another; but not a bit of it: they would reach a certain point and then immediately part company. At first this was all a source of great surprise to me. I have purposely given here an example of the most common kind of prison conversation. At first I could not understand how they could swear for enjoyment, and find in this an amusement, a cherished exercise, a pastime. One must not, however, leave personal vanity out of account. The dialectician of the curse was held in great esteem. He was applauded almost like an actor.

On my first evening I had noticed that the men looked askance at me.

I had already caught one or two dirty looks. On the other hand, some of the convicts hung around me, suspecting I had brought money with me. They started at once to curry my favour: they began to instruct me in how I should wear my new fetters; they got me, in return for money, of course, a box with a lock, so that I could hide in it the items of prison property with which I had been issued and also what few of my own clothes I had been able to bring with me to the prison. On the following day they stole this box back from me and drank the proceeds from its sale. One of these men subsequently became my most devoted companion, although he never ceased to rob me at every convenient opportunity. He did this without the slightest embarrassment, almost unconsciously, as if following some compulsion, and it was impossible to get angry with him.

Among other things, they told me I ought to have my own supply of tea, and said it would be no bad thing if I were to have my own teapot as well; for the meanwhile they lent me someone else's teapot and recommended one of the cooks, who they said would cook for me whatever I wished for thirty copecks a month, if I wanted to eat separately and buy in my own provisions ... Of course, they borrowed money from me; on my first day alone each of them came to me three times asking me to lend him some.

In penal servitude former members of the nobility are generally taken a dim view of and are looked upon with ill will.

In spite of the fact that they have already been deprived of all their rights and are completely on a par with the other convicts, the men never accept them as their companions. This is not out of any conscious prejudice, but is simply so, a sincere and unconscious predisposition. They sincerely acknowledged us as noblemen, even though they liked to tease us about our fallen state.

'No, that's enough of that, stop! Pyotr was one of Moscow's shining hopes, now Pyotr is sitting making ropes,' and so on and so forth.

They looked with glee upon our sufferings, which we tried to hide from them. We had a particularly hard time at work because we were not as strong as they, and could not help them properly. There is nothing more difficult than to gain the confidence of the common people (especially these people) and to earn their love.

In the prison there were several men of noble origin. To start with, there were five Poles. I will speak of them separately later on. The convicts had a special dislike for the Poles, an even greater one than they had for those exiles who had been Russian noblemen. The Poles (I speak only of the political offenders) behaved with a sort of refined, insulting politeness towards them, were extremely uncommunicative and could in no way conceal from the convicts the revulsion they felt for them; the convicts, for their part, understood this very well and repaid them in their own coin.

It took me nearly two years of living in the prison before I won the favour of some of the convicts. But most of them came to like me in the end and acknowledged me as a 'good' man.

There were four Russian noblemen besides myself. One was a mean and villainous creature, horribly depraved, a spy and informer by trade. I had heard of him before I arrived in the prison and after the first few days I broke off all relations with him. The second was the parricide I have already mentioned. The third was Akim Akimych; I have seldom seen such an eccentric as this Akim Akimych. He has remained sharply imprinted upon my memory. He was tall, lean, slow-witted, practically illiterate, a born arguer and as punctilious as a German. The convicts used to laugh at him; but some of them were afraid to have anything to do with him because of his fault-finding, exacting and quarrelsome character. He got on familiar terms with them from the word go, showered them with abuse, even fought with them. He was phenomenally honest. If he observed an injustice he would immediately intervene, even though it might have nothing to do with him. He was naive in the extreme: for example, when he quarrelled with the other convicts he sometimes upbraided them for being thieves, and he would seriously exhort them not to steal. He had served as a lieutenant in the Caucasus. We were friendly right from my first day in the prison, and he lost no time in telling me about his case. He had started out as a military cadet in an infantry regiment stationed in the Caucasus, had toiled away there for an age and had finally been promoted to the rank of officer and been sent as a senior commander to some fortress or other. The chieftain of one of the neighbouring peaceful tribes had set fire to his fortress and had made a night attack on it; the attack had failed. Akim Akimych had been cunning and had not even given a semblance of knowing who the malefactor was. The incident had been laid on the doorstep of the hostile tribes, and a month later Akim Akimych had invited the chieftain along for a friendly chat. The chieftain had arrived, suspecting nothing. Akim Akimych had lined up his regiment; he had publicly accused and upbraided the chieftain, contending that it was shameful to set fire to fortresses. Right there on the spot he had delivered to him a most detailed reprimand concerning the way in which he should behave himself in future, and in conclusion had shot him; he had immediately reported the entire incident to the authorities. For all this he had been tried and sentenced to death, but his sentence had been commuted and he had been deported to the fortresses of Siberia to do forced labour for a period of twelve years. He fully admitted that he had acted wrongfully, and he told me that he had known this even before he had shot the chieftain, had known that the head of a peaceful tribe ought to be tried according to the law; but although he knew this, he was somehow unable really to admit that he was guilty.

'But I mean to say, the fellow set fire to my fortress, didn't he? What was I supposed to do, get down on my hands and knees to him and say thank you?' he would reply in the face of any objections.

However, in spite of the fact that the convicts laughed at Akim Akimych's eccentricity, they nevertheless respected him for his punctiliousness and his capability.

There was no trade that Akim Akimych did not know. He was a joiner, a cobbler, a shoemaker, a painter, a gilder, a locksmith and had learned all these skills in prison. He had taught himself all of them: one glance and he got the hang of it. He also made various boxes, baskets and children's toys and sold them in the town. In this way he made a little money and he would immediately spend it on extra shirts and underwear, a softer pillow or a folding mattress. He lived in the same barrack as myself, and he helped me in many ways during the first days of my imprisonment.

When they left the prison in order to go to work, the convicts were lined up in two rows in front of the guardhouse; in front of them and behind them stood ranks of guards with loaded rifles. There followed the appearance of an officer of the engineers, an NCO and several engineers of lower rank who supervised the work the convicts did. The NCO counted the convicts and sent them to work in parties where they were required.

Together with the others I set off for the engineering workshop. This was a low, stone building which stood in a large courtyard that was heaped up with piles of various materials. Here there was a blacksmith's forge, a locksmith's, a carpenter's, a paintroom, and so on. Akim Akimych came here and worked in the paintroom, boiled the linseed oil, made up the paints and grained tables and other items of furniture to make them look like walnut.

While I was waiting to have my new fetters put on I talked to Akim Akimych about my first impressions of the prison.

'No, they don't like noblemen,' he observed, 'especially the political ones, they'd like to sink their teeth into them. No wonder. To start with, you're a different sort of person from them, and then again they were all serfs or soldiers before. You can see for yourself that they'd find it hard to take a liking to you. Life's tough here, I can tell you. And in the Russian convict battalions it's even tougher. Some of the men here have come from those battalions, and they can't say enough that's good about our prison, it's as if they'd left hell and swapped it for paradise. It's not the work that's the trouble. They say that over there, in the first category, the authorities are not completely military, at least they behave differently from the authorities here. They say that over there the convicts are allowed to live in little houses of their own. I've never been there, but that's what they say. They don't have their heads shaved; they don't wear uniforms; though I must say I think it's a good thing we're made to wear uniforms and have our heads shaved; it's more orderly, and it looks better. Except they don't like it. Just look at that riff-raff! This one's a Kantonist, that one's a Circassian, over there we have a Schismatic, and there's an Orthodox peasant who's left his family and his dear children behind; there's a Jew here, and there's a gipsy, heaven knows what that one is－and they've all got to get along with one another no matter what, they've got to agree with one another, eat out of the same bowl, sleep on the same plank bed. And there's no freedom at all: if you've got an extra bit of food you must eat it on the sly, hide every penny in your boots, and the world is nothing but prison and more prison ... You can't help getting some funny ideas in your head.'

But I already knew this. I particularly wanted to ask him about our Major. Akim Akimych made no secret of things, and I remember that the impression his words made on me was not an entirely pleasant one.

But I was destined to live for the next two years under his authority. Everything that Akim Akimych told me turned out to be perfectly true, with the difference that the impression made by reality is always more powerful than that made by a mere story. This man was frightening, because he had almost unlimited power over two hundred souls. In himself he was just a man of spite and impropriety, nothing more. He looked upon the convicts as his natural enemies, and this was his first and greatest mistake. He really did have some abilities; but everything about him, even that which was good in him, was somehow mangled and distorted. Ill-natured and lacking in self-control, he would sometimes even burst into the prison at night, and if he noticed a prisoner sleeping on his left side or on his back, he would have him flogged the next morning: 'Sleep on your right side like I told you to,' he would say. In the prison he was hated and feared like the plague. His face was crimson and malevolent. Everyone knew that he was completely in the hands of his personal attendant, Fedka. He cared most of all about his poodle, Trezorka, and almost went out of his mind with grief when Trezorka fell ill. It was said that he had sobbed over the dog as if it were his own son; he had dismissed one vet and, after his usual fashion, had almost come to blows with him. Hearing from Fedka that one of the convicts in the prison was a self-taught vet whose treatments were extremely effective, he immediately sent for him.

'Save my dog! I'll load you with money, just make Trezorka well again,' he shouted at the convict.

The man was a Siberian peasant, cunning, clever, really a very skilful vet, but a peasant through and through. 'I had a look at Trezorka,' he told the convicts afterwards, a long time after his visit to the Major, however, when the whole affair had been forgotten. 'I looked: the dog was lying on the sofa, on a white cushion; and then I saw that it had an inflammation, that all that was needed was to let a bit of blood and the beast would get well again. "Well, I don't rightly know," I said. And I thought to myself: "What if I don't bring it off, what if the beast dies?" "No, your honour," I said, "you've sent for me too late; if you'd asked me to come yesterday, or the day before, about that sort of time, I could have done something for the dog; but now I can't do anything ..." '

So Trezorka died.

They told me the details of an attempt on the Major's life. In the prison there was a certain convict. He had already been with us for several years and was noted for his gentle behaviour. It was also observed that he hardly ever spoke to anyone. He was looked upon as some kind of a holy fool. He could read and write and for the whole of the past year he had read the Bible constantly, both by night and by day. When all the men had fallen asleep, he would get up at midnight, light a wax church candle, climb onto the stove, open the book and read until morning. One day he had gone to the duty sergeant and told him he did not want to go to work. They had reported the matter to the Major, who had flown into a rage and had instantly arrived at the gallop. The convict had hurled himself at him with a brick he had ready, but the blow had missed. The man had been seized, tried and flogged. All this had happened very swiftly. Three days later he had died in hospital. As he had lain dying, he had said that he intended no harm to anyone, but simply wanted to suffer. He was not, however, a member of any schismatic sect. He was remembered with respect in the prison.

At last they changed my fetters. While it was being done, several girls selling kalatches came into the workshop one after the other. Some of them were very young girls. They usually went selling kalatches until they were of age; the mothers baked, and they did the selling. When they were of age they kept on coming round the prison, but without kalatches; this was almost always the case. There were also some who were not young girls. The kalatches cost half a copeck apiece, and almost all the prisoners bought them.

I noticed one convict, a carpenter, who was already grey-haired, but of fresh complexion, flirting with the kalatch sellers. Before their arrival he had wound a red calico handkerchief around his neck. One fat and pock-marked woman put her tray down on his bench. They started a conversation.

'Why didn't you come here yesterday?' said the convict with a self-satisfied smile.

'What? I did, but there was no sign of you,' answered the woman, pertly.

'We were wanted at work, otherwise we'd definitely have been here ... Anyway, all your lot came to see me the day before yesterday.'

'Who was that?'

'Maryashka came here, and Khavroshka, and Chekunda, and Dvugroshovaya ...'

'What's all this?' I asked Akim Akimych. 'Is it true?'

'It does happen,' he replied, modestly lowering his eyes, for he was extremely chaste.

It did of course happen, but very rarely and involving the greatest of difficulties. In general it would be true to say that the men were more interested in where, for example, they could get hold of a drink than they were in such matters, in spite of all the natural irksomeness of the life they were being forced to lead. It was difficult to get women. You had to choose the time and the place, you had to come to an agreement, make an assignation, find a secluded place, something that was particularly difficult, win over the guards, which was even more difficult, and altogether to spend an enormous sum of money, relatively speaking. But in spite of all this I did sometimes later witness love scenes, too. I remember one day in summer there were three of us in some shed or other on the bank of the Irtysh, firing a kiln; the guards were being good-natured. At last two 'floozies', as the convicts called them, appeared.

'Well, where have you been all this time? Up at the Zverkovs', I'll bet,' was how they were greeted by the convict they had come to visit and who had been waiting for them for a long time.

'All this time? A magpie could sit on a pole longer than I was at their place,' the girl answered cheerfully.

This girl was the dirtiest I have ever seen. She was the one called Chekunda. With her had come Dvugro-shovaya. She was beyond all description.

'I haven't seen you for ages,' continued the ladies' man, addressing Dvugroshovaya. 'Got thinner, haven't you?'

'Maybe I have. I used to be that fat, but now it's like I'd swallowed a needle.'

'Still friendly with the soldiers, eh?'

'No, that's a lot of stories wicked tongues have told you; but anyway, what of it? Though he hasn't got a bean, I love my soldier lad.'

'You give up those soldier lads and love us instead, we've got money ...'

To complete the picture it is necessary to envisage this ladies' man, his head shaven, in fetters, wearing striped clothing and under guard.

I said goodbye to Akim Akimych and, learning that I might go back to the prison, I returned there accompanied by a guard. The convicts were already gathering. First to return were those prisoners who were on piecework. The only way to make a convict work hard was to put him on piecework. Sometimes the tasks assigned were enormous, but all the same they were completed twice as fast as they would have been if the men had been forced to work right up to the dinner drum. Once he had completed his task, the convict could go back to barracks without hindrance, and no one could stop him.

The convicts did not eat supper all together, but in the order 'first come, first served'; indeed, the kitchen would not have been able to hold all of us at once. I tried the soup, but being unaccustomed to it could not eat it and made some tea for myself instead. We sat down at the end of a table. I had a companion with me who like myself was from the nobility.

The convicts came and went. But there was a lot of room, they had not all come back yet. A group of five men had sat down apart from the others at a large table. The cook poured soup for them into two bowls and placed on the table a platter of fried fish. They were celebrating something, and were having their own food to eat. At us they looked askance.

'I've not been home, but I know it all,' one tall convict shouted, as he came into the kitchen and looked round at all who were present.

He was aged about fifty, lean and muscular. There was something shy and at the same time jovial about his face. Especially noticeable was his thick, sagging lower lip; it gave his face an extremely comical look.

'Well, had a good night's sleep? Not saying good morning, are we? Ah, our friends from Kursk,' he added, sitting down beside the men who were eating their own food. 'A hearty appetite to you! May I be your guest?'

'We're not from Kursk, chum.'

'Maybe it's Tobolsk, then?'

'We're not from Tobolsk, either. You're not going to get anything from us, chum. You go and find the rich peasant, ask him.'

'John Collywobble and Mary Belch have come to live in my belly today, brothers; and where does he live, this rich peasant?'

'Gazin over yonder's a rich peasant; you go and ask him.'

'Gazin's on a binge today, lads: he's drinking all he owns.

'That's twenty silver rubles,' observed another.

'It pays to be a vodka seller.'

'So you’ re not going to offer me anything, then? Oh well, I'll just have to make do with the prison muck.'

'You go and ask those gents over there for some tea.'

'What gents, there's no gents here; they're dust the same as we are now,' said one convict who was sitting in a corner, in a gloomy tone of voice. He had not said a word until now.

'I could use a cup of tea, but I don't like to ask: we have our pride, you know,' said the convict with the thick lower lip, looking at us good-naturedly.

'I'll make you some tea if you like,' I said, inviting the convict to be my guest. 'Would you like that?'

'Like it? How can I refuse?' He came over to the table.

'Look at him! At home he used to drink soup out of his shoe, but here he's discovered tea; he wants to have what his masters drink,' said the gloomy convict.

'Don't people drink tea here, then?' I asked him, but he did not deign to reply.

'Here they come with the kalatches. What about a kalatch as well?'

The kalatches were brought in. A young convict appeared with a whole bundle of them in his arms, and sold them around the prison. The baker woman allowed him to keep every tenth kalatch for himself; he was counting on that kalatch.

'Kalatches, kalatches!' he cried, as he came into the kitchen. 'Moscow kalatches, hot from the oven! I'd eat them myself but I need the money. Well, lads, there'll be one kalatch left over at the end. Which of you had a mother?'

This appeal to filial affection made everyone laugh, and several convicts bought kalatches from him.

'One thing, lads,' he said, 'Gazin's gone on the binge and he's heading for trouble, God help him. What a time to pick for it. What if Eight-Eyes shows up?'

'They'll hide him. Real drunk, is he?'

'And how! He's turned vicious, started grabbing hold of folk.'

'Well, that means it'll end in a fight...'

'Who are they talking about?' I asked the Pole who was sitting beside me.

'It's Gazin, one of the cons. He sells vodka here. As soon as he gets a bit of money for the stuff he drinks it all away. He gets mean and vicious; but he's quiet when he's sober; when he gets drunk it all comes out; he goes for people with a knife. Then they have to calm him down.'

'How do they do that?'

'About a dozen of the prisoners charge at him and start beating him until he's unconscious, they have to beat him half to death. Then they put him on the plank bed and cover him up with a sheepskin coat.'

'What if they were to kill him?'

'Anyone else and they would have killed him by now, but not Gazin. He's incredibly strong, stronger than anybody else in the prison, and he's got a constitution like an ox. The next morning he gets up as right as rain.'

I continued to question the Pole. 'Tell me, they also have their own food to eat, and I have my tea. But they look at me all the time as though they envied me my tea. What does that mean?'

'It's not the tea that bothers them,' replied the Pole. 'They don't like you because you're from the nobility and are different from them. Many of them would like to pick a quarrel with you. They would like nothing better than to insult you and humiliate you. You will meet with a lot more unpleasantness here. All our lives are very hard here. Ours are harder than the rest in every way. You will need all the detachment you are capable of in order to get used to it. You will meet again and again with unpleasantness and abuse because you drink tea and have your own food, even though very many of the men often eat their own food and some of them drink tea every day. It's all right for them to do it, but not for us.'

Having said this, he got up and left the table; a few minutes later, his words came true.

First Impressions (2)

M—cki, the Pole who had been talking to me, had no sooner left than Gazin burst into the kitchen, completely drunk.

The sight of this convict, drunk in broad daylight, on an ordinary weekday when everyone was compelled to go out to work, within close proximity of a strict commander who was liable to come into the prison at any moment, of a duty sergeant whose task it was to supervise the convicts and who never left the prison, of guards and veterans－in the close proximity, in short, of all this strictness, threw all the ideas I had begun to form about the convicts' daily lives into total disarray. And I had to live in the prison for a long time before I was able to explain to myself all the circumstances that were so mysterious to me in the early days of my imprisonment.

I have already said that the prisoners always had work of their own and that the desire for such work was quite natural given the conditions of prison life; that, as well as having this desire, the convicts were inordinately fond of money and prized it above all else, almost on a par with freedom, and that they felt consoled as long as they could hear it jingling in their pockets. On the other hand, a prisoner would be despondent, sad, restless and out of spirits if he did not have any, and then he would be ready to steal or commit any deed in order to get his hands on it. But, even though money was so precious in the prison, it never remained long with those who were lucky enough to possess it. For a start, it was difficult to keep it from being stolen or confiscated. If the Major found it during his sudden searches he confiscated it at once. Perhaps he spent it on improving the convicts' diet; at any rate it was to him that it was brought. But more often than not it was stolen: it was impossible to trust anyone. We subsequently discovered a method of keeping money in complete security. It was given for safe-keeping to an Old Believer, an old man who had come to us from the settlements of former Vetka schismatics at Starodubye ... I cannot help saying a few words about him here, even though I disgress from my subject.

He was a little, grey-haired old man of about sixty. From the first time I set eyes on him he made a strong impression on me. He was so unlike the other convicts: there was something so calm and peaceful in his gaze that I remember I used to look with particular satisfaction at his clear, bright eyes, which were surrounded by fine, radiant wrinkles. I often used to talk to him, and in all my life I have seldom encountered such a good-hearted and kindly person. He had been sentenced for a very serious offence. Some converts had begun to appear among the Old Believers in Starodubye. The government had given these converts every encouragement, and had begun to exert every effort to gain the conversion of other dissenters. The old man, together with other fanatics, had decided to 'stand up for the faith', as he expressed it. Work had begun on the building of a Yedinover church, and they had burnt it down. As one of the instigators the old man had been sentenced to deportation and penal servitude. He had been a prosperous tradesman; he had left a wife and children at home; but he had gone into exile with fortitude, because in his blinded condition he had considered it a 'martyrdom for the faith'. After living for some time alongside him, one could not help wondering how this man, who was meek and gentle as a child, could ever have been an insurgent. I had several conversations with him on the subject of 'the faith'. He had relinquished none of his convictions; but there was never the slightest trace of rancour or hatred in his answers. And yet he had burned down a church, and did not deny it. Because of his convictions, he seemed to have considered his action and the 'martyrdom' he had endured for it as a noble cause. But no matter how closely I scrutinized him, studied him, I could never observe the slightest trace of pride or vanity in him. There were other Old Believers in the prison, mostly Siberians. They were men of great natural intelligence, wily peasants, passionate students and interpreters of the Bible who could also be dry-as-dust pedants, formidable dialecticians in their own way; men who were supercilious, arrogant, sly and intolerant in the extreme. The old man was quite different from them. As an interpreter of the Bible who was perhaps superior to them, he avoided arguments. He was very sociable by nature. He was cheerful, he laughed frequently－not the coarse, cynical laughter of the convicts, but one which was clear and quiet, one in which there was a great deal of childlike simplicity and which somehow went very well with his grey hair. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that it is possible to tell a man by his laugh, and that if on first meeting you like the laugh of a person who is completely unknown to you, then you may confidently say that this is a good person. The old man had won the respect of the whole prison, but he was not in any way conceited about this. The convicts called him 'grandad' and never said anything that might hurt his feelings. I could understand in part the influence he must have had on his fellow-believers. But, in spite of the visible fortitude with which he endured his imprisonment, he nurtured within him a deep, incurable sadness which he tried to hide from everyone. I lived in the same barrack as he did. Once, at about three o'clock in the morning, I woke up and heard a quiet, restrained sobbing. The old man was sitting on the stove (the same one on which the Bible-reading convict who had tried to kill the Major had sat praying), and was reciting prayers from a handwritten book. He was weeping, and from time to time I could hear him say: 'Lord, forsake me not! Lord, give me strength! My little children, my dear children, we shall never see one another again!' I cannot describe how sad I felt. This was the old man to whom gradually nearly all the convicts began to give their money for safekeeping. Nearly all the convicts were thieves, but for some reason they all became convinced that the old man could not possibly do any stealing. They knew that he hid the money entrusted to him somewhere, but this was such a secret spot that no one would ever be able to find it. He subsequently explained his secret to some of the Poles and myself. In one of the posts of the fence there was a knot that looked as though it had grown firmly together with the wood. But it could be removed, exposing a deep hollow. It was here that 'grandad' used to hide the money and then put the knot back in again on top of it so that no one could ever find anything.

But I have digressed from my story. I was considering the question of why money never remained long in the convicts' pockets. The fact was that quite apart from the trouble of keeping it securely, there was too much in the life of the prison that was dismal; the convicts, on the other hand, were by their very nature creatures so hungry for freedom and, because of their social position, so light-minded and feckless, that it was a matter of course for them to be drawn by the sudden urge to 'spread themselves', to blow all the money they had on wild binges with a great deal of noise and music, trying to forget their misery if only for a minute or two. It was almost uncanny to see how some of them would work themselves half to death without respite for months on end, for the sole purpose of squandering in one day all they had earned, every last penny of it, and how then once again they would toil away until they had enough for another binge. Many of them were fond of buying new clothes, which had to be of the civilian, casual type: informal, black trousers, long-waisted coats, Siberian caftans. Cotton shirts and belts with brass studs on them were also very popular. They dressed up on holidays, without fail, and would go round all the barracks showing themselves off to everyone. Their pleasure in being well-dressed was so great as to be positively childlike; and in many respects the convicts were indeed perfect children. It is true that all these fine garments would suddenly disappear from their owners' possession, they would sometimes be pawned for next to nothing on the very evening of the day for which they had been bought. However, the binge would develop only gradually. It was usually timed to fit in with holidays or namedays. The convict whose nameday it was would get up in the morning, place a candle before the icon and say his prayers; then he would get dressed up and order dinner for himself. He would buy beef and fish. Siberian pelmeni－meat dumplings－would be made; the convict would eat like an ox until he was full, almost always alone, seldom inviting his fellow-convicts to share in the feast. Then the vodka would appear: the man would get as drunk as a lord and would unfailingly sway and stagger his way round all the barracks, endeavouring to show everyone that he was drunk, that he was 'having a good time', and thereby merit general respect. Everywhere among the Russian people a certain sympathy is felt for a man who is drunk; in the prison a drunk man was even treated with deference. Prison drinking had its own brand of aristocraticism. Once he had started his bout of revelling, the convict would hire a musician. In the prison there was a little Pole, a deserter, a thoroughly unpleasant character who none the less played the violin and had his own instrument－his sole earthly possession. He knew no trade whatsoever and his only source of income was hiring himself out to play lively dances for convicts who were on a binge. His task was to keep following his drunken master from room to room, and to saw away on his fiddle for all he was worth. His face would frequently display boredom and depression. But the cry: 'Play, you've had your money!' would force him to start sawing away once more. When he started drinking, the convict could be firmly assured that if he got very drunk, the other convicts would look after him, would put him to bed in time and hide him if the authorities made an appearance, and that they would do all this quite disinterestedly. For their part, the duty sergeant and the veterans who lived in the prison to keep order could also put their minds entirely at rest: there was no possibility of the drunk man's causing any disorder. The whole barrackful of prisoners looked after him, and if he started to get noisy or rowdy he would be restrained at once, even bound hand and foot if need be. For this reason the lower echelons of the prison administration tended to disregard drunkenness, and indeed did not want to know about it. They knew very well that if they did not permit the men to drink vodka it would only be for the worse. But where did the vodka come from?

Vodka was bought in the prison itself from the socalled 'barmen'. There were several of these, and they carried on a steady and successful trade, even though the number of drinkers and 'revellers' was generally small, as drinking required money, which was hard for the convicts to get hold of. Transactions were embarked upon, consolidated and clinched in a rather unusual fashion. A convict might, for example, know no skill and not want to work (there were some like this), yet still want to get his hands on some money, being impatient to strike rich in a hurry. He might have a little money to start out with, and decide to deal in vodka: a bold undertaking, involving a large element of risk. He might have to pay for it with the skin of his back and be simultaneously deprived of both goods and capital. But the 'barman' would be prepared for this. He would not have much money to start out with, and so on the first occasion he would smuggle the vodka into the prison himself and of course sell it at a profit. He would repeat the experiment a second time, and a third, and if he did not fall into the hands of the authorities, he would quickly sell out. Only then would he be able to lay the basis of a real trade on solid foundations: he would become an entrepreneur, a capitalist, employing agents and assistants, with a much lesser degree of risk to himself and a fortune that steadily increased. His assistants would run his risks for him.

In any prison there are always a great many people who have squandered, gambled and drunk away every last penny they own, people who know no trade, pathetic, ragged men who are none the less endowed to a certain extent with boldness and determination. All that such men have left by way of capital is the skin of their backs; this can still be put to some use, and it is precisely this ultimate capital that the reveller who has squandered all his money decides to put into circulation. He goes to the 'barman' and hires himself out to him as a smuggler of vodka into the prison; a rich 'barman' has several such assistants. Somewhere outside the prison there is someone－a soldier, a tradesman, sometimes even a woman－who uses the 'barman's' money to buy vodka in a tavern for a relatively large commission; this person hides the vodka in some secluded spot where the convicts come to work. The supplier nearly always tests the quality of the vodka first and hard-heartedly replaces what he has drunk with water. It is take it or leave it: a convict cannot afford to be too fussy, and he must be content that at least he has not lost all his money and that he has got his vodka, watered down, maybe, but vodka nevertheless. The smugglers who have been pointed out to him in advance by the prison 'barman' then report to this supplier, bringing with them the intestines of an ox. These intestines are first washed and are then filled with water－in this way they retain their original moistness and elasticity, so that they can eventually be used to contain vodka. Having filled the intestines with water, the convict wraps them around his body, if possible in its most secret parts. It goes without saying that as he does this he displays all the skill and thievish cunning of the smuggler. His honour is in part at stake: he must deceive both guards and sentries. And deceive them he does: a good thief will always get past the guard, who is often merely some new recruit. The guard is of course carefully studied in advance; the time of day and place of work are also taken into account. The convict who is a stovesetter will climb up onto the stove: who can see what he is doing there? It is not the guard's job to climb up after him. When he arrives at the prison he will have a coin in his hand－fifteen or twenty silver copecks, just in case, as he waits for the corporal at the gate. Every prisoner returning from work is examined and frisked by the corporal before being allowed inside the prison. The vodka smuggler usually hopes that the corporal will be too embarrassed to frisk certain parts of his body. But sometimes the corporal reaches these parts, too, and feels the vodka. Then one last resort is left to the convict: without saying a word, out of sight of the guard, he presses the coin he has been hiding in his own hand into that of the corporal. As a result of this manoeuvre he occasionally gets safely into the prison with the smuggled vodka. But sometimes the manoeuvre does not succeed, and then he must pay with his last capital asset, his back. He is reported to the Major, his capital asset is flogged and flogged hard, the vodka is confiscated and the smuggler claims sole responsibility, keeping the 'barman' free of involvement in the matter. It should be noted, however, that he does this not out of any aversion for informing but simply because it is not in his interests to be an informer: he would still be flogged, even if he were to inform; his only consolation would be that both he and the 'barman' would receive punishment. But he will need the 'barman' again, although as a matter of custom and as the result of the prior agreement the smuggler will receive not one penny from the 'barman' for his flogged back. As regards the general matter of informing, it is normally a flourishing business. In prison an informer is not subjected to the slightest humiliation; the thought never occurs to anyone to react indignantly towards him. He is not shunned, the other convicts make friends with him, and if you were to begin to demonstrate to them the utter vileness of informing they would completely fail to understand what you were talking about. The gentleman prisoner, the base and corrupt creature with whom I had severed all relations, was friendly with the Major's personal attendant Fedka, and worked as a spy for him. Fedka would report all that he heard about the convicts to the Major. Everyone in our prison knew this, yet no one would ever have dreamt of punishing the villain or even of reproaching him.

But I have digressed. Of course there are also occasions when vodka is successfully smuggled in; then the 'barman' receives the ox intestines that have been brought to him, pays for them, and begins to estimate what they have cost him. His estimates usually show that the goods have cost him a great deal; and so, for the sake of greater profits, he decants it once more, again adding water to it in almost equal amounts. Then, having thus made all his preparations, he waits for a customer. On the first holiday, and sometimes even on a weekday, the customer will appear: this will be a convict who has been labouring for months like a harnessed ox and who has saved up some money so as to be able to spend it all on drink on a day that he has previously earmarked for this purpose. Long before it arrives, this day will have been the object of the poor labourer's imaginings, both in his dreams at night and in happy reveries at work, and its magic will have sustained his spirit through the crushing round of prison life. At last the dawn of the bright day appears in the east; his money is saved up, it has not been confiscated, and he takes it to the 'barman'. The 'barman' starts by giving him the purest vodka possible, that is to say vodka which has only been twice diluted; but all that he drinks from the bottle is immediately replaced with water. For a cup of vodka, the convict will pay five or six times what it would cost him in a tavern. It may be imagined how many cups of such vodka must be imbibed and how much money must be spent in order for a man to get drunk. But because he has got out of the habit of drinking and because he has abstained for so long beforehand, the convict gets drunk rather quickly and usually continues to drink until he has spent all his money. Then he produces all his new clothes: the 'barman' is also a pawnbroker. First to fall into his hands are the convict's newly bought civilian clothes, then he takes his old clothes, and finally he ends up with the convict's prison clothes as well. When he has drunk away everything, right to the last rag, the drunkard goes to bed, and the following day, waking up with the inevitable excruciating headache, he begs the 'barman' in vain to give him just a sip of vodka for his hangover. Sadly he endures his misfortune and he begins work again that very same day; once again he works for several months without respite or relief, dreaming of his happy day of drunkenness that has sunk irrevocably into oblivion, and beginning little by little to take heart again and anticipate another such day, one which is still far off, but which will eventually in its turn arrive.

As for the 'barman', he, after making an enormous sum of money－several dozen rubles－lays in a final stock of vodka. This he does not dilute with water, since he intends to drink it himself. Enough of business: now it is his turn to do a little celebrating. There begins an orgiastic bout of drinking, eating, music. The 'barman's means are considerable; he even wins over some of the more directly responsible, lower-ranking prison staff. Needless to say, the vodka that has been laid in is soon drunk; then the reveller goes to other 'barmen' in the prison, who are already expecting him, and drinks away every last penny he has made. No matter how hard the convicts try to hide him, higher-ranking officials－the Major, or the duty sergeant－sometimes catch sight of him. He is taken to the guardroom, his money, if he has any on him, is confiscated, and in conclusion he is flogged. Shaking off the flogging, he comes back to the prison and within a few days is setting up in business as a 'barman' again. Some of these revellers, the rich ones, needless to say, also dream of the fair sex. If they pay a large bribe to a guard, they can sometimes sneak their way out of the fortress with him to a destination some- where in the outskirts, instead of going to work. There, in some secluded little house somewhere on the very edge of town, an enormous feast is held, and truly gigantic sums of money are squandered. Not even a convict is despised if he has money; the guard who is to accompany him is selected in advance, and will know how to go about his task. Such guards are themselves usually future candidates for prison. However, with money it is possible to do almost anything, and such journeys nearly always remain a secret. It should be added that they take place extremely rarely; a great deal of money is required, and lovers of the fair sex resort to other means, means that are quite without danger.

While I was still in the early days of my prison existence, my curiosity was particularly aroused by a certain young convict, a very good-looking youth. His name was Sirotkin. In some respects he was a rather mysterious creature. I was struck above all by his beautiful face; he was not more than twenty-three years old. He was in the special category, that is to say he was in for life, and this meant that he was considered one of the most serious of the military criminals. Quiet and unassuming, he spoke little and seldom laughed. His eyes were blue, his features regular, his face soft and clear-complexioned, his hair a very light brown. Even his semi-shaven head did not greatly spoil his appearance, so striking were his good looks. He had no trade, but he received small amounts of money quite frequently. He was conspicuously lazy and dressed in a slipshod manner. Someone might occasionally give him some decent clothes to wear, perhaps even a red shirt, and Sirotkin would make no secret of the pleasure he took in his new clothes: he would make the rounds of the barracks and show himself off. He did not drink or play cards, and he practically never quarrelled with anyone. He used to go for strolls behind the barracks, his hands in his pockets, quietly and thoughtfully. It was not easy to imagine what he might be thinking about. Sometimes you might call to him out of curiosity, ask him about something or other, and he would reply at once in a tone of voice that was almost respectful, quite un-convict-like, but always terse and to the point; and he would look at you like a child of ten years old. When he got some money, he spent it not on necessities, such as giving his jacket in to be mended or buying new boots, but on kalatches and treacle cakes which he ate as if he were a child of seven. 'You're a right one, Sirotkin!' the convicts used to say to him, 'you orphan from Kazan!' Out of working hours he would usually wander around the other barracks; almost everyone else would be engaged in their own private tasks, he alone would have nothing to do. If the men said anything to him, it was nearly always something derisive (he and his companions were often made fun of), and he would turn round without saying a word and go to another barrack; sometimes, if the ridicule had been particularly fierce, he would blush. I often used to wonder how this quiet, artless creature had ended up in prison. At one time I was laid up in hospital, in the convict ward. Sirotkin was ill, too, and had the bed next to mine. At some point towards evening we started to talk; he grew unexpectedly animated, and told me in passing how he had been called up into the army, how his mother had wept as she had seen him off, and what a hard time he had had as a recruit. He added that he had found the life of a recruit quite intolerable, because everyone there had been so angry and strict, and the officers had found fault with him almost perpetually ...

'So how did it all end?' I asked him. 'What did you do to finish up here? And in the special category, too ... Ah, Sirotkin, Sirotkin!'

'Well, you see, Aleksandr Petrovich, I was only in the battalion for a year; I was sent here because I killed Grigory Petrovich, my company commander.'

'So I hear, Sirotkin, but I don't believe it. How could a man like you possibly kill anyone?'

'That's what happened, Aleksandr Petrovich. I was dreadfully miserable.'

'But how do other recruits survive? Of course they're miserable at first, but later on they get used to it, and lo and behold they turn out fine soldiers. Your mother must have spoiled you; I bet she fed you on milk and cake till you were eighteen.'

'It's true that my mother was very fond of me. When I went off to join the recruits she took to her bed and I heard that she never got up again ... The recruit life really got to me in the end. My company commander took a dislike to me, he was always having me flogged－and for what? I knuckled under to everyone, minded my ps and qs; I never touched a drop of vodka, I never got into debt; it's a sorry state of affairs, you know, Aleksandr Petrovich, when a man gets into debt. Everybody in the place was so heartless, there was nowhere to have a decent cry. I used to go away and cry in a corner somewhere. And then there was one time when I was on sentry duty. It was night; I'd been put in the guardhouse next to the armoury. There was a wind blowing: it was autumn, and that dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. I felt so wretched, so wretched! I stood my rifle on its end, removed the bayonet and put it down beside me; I took off my right boot, put the muzzle of the rifle against my chest, leaned on it, and pulled the trigger with my big toe. It misfired. I examined the rifle, cleaned the touch-hole, poured in fresh powder, struck the flint and put the barrel to my chest once again. What do you suppose? The powder ignited, but the gun didn't go off. What's this, I thought. I put my boot back on, fixed the bayonet back again and walked about for a bit without saying anything. It was then that I decided to do what I did: I thought, I don't care where they send me, as long as it's out of here. Half an hour later the company commander arrived; he was inspecting the guards. He came right up to me: "Is this any way to stand when you're on duty?" I took hold of my gun and sank the bayonet into him right up to the muzzle. I got four thousand lashes, and was sent here, to the special category ...'

He was not lying. For what other reason would he have been assigned to the special category? Ordinary offences were punished far more lightly. Among his companions, Sirotkin was the only good-looking one. As for the others like him, of whom there were perhaps as many as fifteen in our prison, it was a strange experience to watch them: only two or three of them had faces that were tolerable to look at. The others were an ugly, slovenly, lop-eared bunch. Some of them already had grey hair. If circumstances permit, I shall describe this group in more detail further on. Sirotkin was often on friendly terms with Gazin, the convict I referred to at the beginning of this chapter, when I described how he burst into the kitchen and how he upset my early notions of prison life.

This Gazin was a fearsome individual. He had a terrible and distressing effect on everyone. It always seemed to me that there could be nothing more violent and monstrous than this man. In Tobolsk I once saw the bandit Kamenev, who was notorious for his crimes; later I saw the deserter and terrible murderer Sokolov when he was being tried. But neither the one nor the other repelled me to the extent Gazin did. I sometimes thought I was seeing a huge, outsize spider, the size of a man. He was a Tartar, horribly strong, stronger than anyone else in the prison; he was taller than average, of Herculean build, with an ugly, disproportionately large head; he walked with a stoop, and his face wore a distrustful expression. Strange rumours about him circulated in the prison: it was known that he had been a soldier; but the convicts would have it, I do not know with what justification, that he was an escaped convict from Nerchinsk; that he had already been exiled to Siberia and escaped several times, that he had changed his name and finally ended up in our prison, in the special category. There was also a story that he had been fond of murdering little children, purely for pleasure: he would take the child away to some convenient spot; first he would frighten and torture it, then, delighting in the terror and quaking of his poor little victim, he would quietly and voluptuously slit its throat. This was all quite possibly a fantasy, a consequence of the general aura of unpleasantness with which, for most of the convicts, Gazin was surrounded; but all these fictions somehow suited him, and were in keeping with his appearance. All the same, except for the times when he was drunk, his prison behaviour was very cautious. He was always quiet, never quarrelled with anyone, and avoided the quarrels of others. But this, it seemed, was out of contempt for the other convicts, as if he thought himself superior to all the rest; he spoke very little and was almost purposely unsociable. All his movements were slow, tranquil and confident. From his eyes it was obvious that he was far from stupid, and extremely cunning; but there was always something haughtily derisive and cruel in his expression and his smile. He traded in vodka and was one of the most prosperous 'barmen' in the prison. But perhaps twice a year he experienced a compulsion to get drunk, and it was then that all the brutality of his nature displayed itself. He would get drunk gradually, and he would start by picking on men with taunts of the most vicious kind, calculated and seemingly prepared long in advance; finally, when he was completely intoxicated, he would pass into a fearful rage, grab a knife and go for men with it. The convicts, who knew how appallingly strong he was, would scatter before him and hide: he would go for any man who crossed his path. But soon a way was found of dealing with him. A dozen or so men from the barrack he belonged to would rush him together and begin beating him. It is impossible to conceive of anything more cruel than this beating: they beat him in the chest, in the heart, in the solar plexus, in the stomach, they beat him long and hard, and only stopped when he was completely unconscious and looked as if he were dead. They could not have brought themselves to beat anyone else like this: to beat a man in this fashion meant to kill him－Gazin, however, they could not kill. After they had beaten him up they would wrap him, quite unconscious, in a sheepskin coat and carry him to the plank bed. 'They say he gets over it once he's had a rest.' And so it was: the next morning he would get up almost well again, and would go out to work morosely and in silence. And every time Gazin got drunk, all the men in the prison knew that the day would end in a beating for him. He knew it too, but he went on getting drunk just the same. At length the men noticed that Gazin was starting to give in. He began to complain of various pains, to look noticeably ill; his visits to the hospital became more and more frequent ... 'He's given in,' the convicts would say to one another.

He came into the kitchen in the company of the unpleasant little Pole with the violin, who was usually hired by convicts on drinking bouts for the completion of their entertainment, and stopped in the centre of the kitchen, passing his gaze silently and attentively over all those who were present. No one spoke. Finally, catching sight of me and my companion, he looked at us in malice and derision, smiled a self-satisfied smile, seemed to make some swift, private deduction and, staggering violently, came up to our table.

'Permit me to ask,' he began (he spoke Russian), 'out of what proceeds your honours are pleased to drink tea in here?'

I exchanged glances silently with my companion, realizing that it was best to say nothing and not to answer. The slightest contradiction would have sent this man into a frenzy of rage.

'Got money, have you?' he continued, in his interrogation of us. 'Got a pile of money, have you, eh? Is that what you've come to prison for, to drink tea? Come to drink tea, have you? Say something, God damn you! ...'

But seeing that we had determined to keep quiet and not pay any attention to him, he turned crimson and started to shake with rabid fury. Beside him, in a corner, stood a large tray which was used to contain all the bread that had been cut in slices for the convicts' dinner or supper. The tray was so large that it could hold enough bread to feed half the prison; for the moment, however, it was empty. He seized it in both hands and brandished it above us. A few moments longer and he would have smashed our heads in. In spite of the fact that a murder or an attempted murder threatened the whole prison with extremely unpleasant consequences (searches and friskings would begin, there would be a tightening of restrictions, and so the convicts tried their utmost not to get themselves into such extreme situations): in spite of this, all the men now grew quiet, waiting for what would happen next. No one said one word in our defence; there was not one shout against Gazin, so powerful was their hatred of us. They were quite clearly pleased by the position of danger in which we had been put ... But the incident ended harmlessly: at the very moment he was about to bring the tray down on us, someone shouted from the passage:

'Gazin! Somebody's stolen your vodka!'

He let the tray fall to the floor with a crash, and rushed out of the kitchen as if he had gone insane.

'It's God who's saved them,' the convicts said to one another. And they said this for a long time after. I was never able to find out afterwards whether this message about the stolen vodka had been genuine, or whether it had been invented in order to save us.

In the evening, after it had already grown dark, but before the barracks were locked up for the night, I took a walk round the perimeter fence, and a heavy sadness fell on my heart. Never subsequently, not during all the rest of my life in the prison, did I experience such sadness. The first day of imprisonment is hard to bear, whether it be in gaol, in a fortress or in penal servitude ... But I remember that there was one thought which preoccupied me more than anything else, and which was subsequently to haunt me throughout the whole of my time in the prison. This was a thought involving a problem that was to some extent incapable of solution: the problem of the inequality of punishment for the same crime. It is true that it is impossible to compare one criminal with another, even approximately. For example, there may be two criminals who have both killed a man: all the circumstances of each case are taken into account; and in each case the punishment determined is practically the same. But note what a difference there is between these two crimes. One criminal, for example, may have slit a man's throat just like that, for no reason at all, for the sake of an onion: he has gone out on the road and murdered a peasant who happened to be passing along with nothing on him but an onion. 'What's this, boss? You sent me out to get some loot and all I could find was an onion.' 'You idiot! One onion－that's one copeck! Go and do in a hundred peasants, then you'll have a hundred onions, and that'll make a ruble' (a prison legend). The other criminal has killed to defend the honour of his fiancee, his sister, his daughter against a debauched tyrant. One man has killed because he is a vagrant, beset by a whole regiment of police spies, defending his life and his freedom, often dying of hunger; another slits the throats of little children just for the hell of it, just in order to feel their warm blood on his hands, to savour their terror, their last dove-like quivering under his knife. And what happens? Both men are given penal servitude. There is, it is true, some variation in the length of the sentences they receive. But there are relatively few such variations; while of one and the same crime there is a countless multiplicity of variations. There are as many variations as there are human characters. But let us assume that it is impossible to reconcile, to iron out these differences, that this is an insoluble problem, like squaring the circle, let us assume that this is the case. Consider another difference, one that would exist even if this inequality did not, the difference in the consequences of a punishment ... Here is a man who is wasting away in prison, melting down like a candle; and here is another who before he came here had no idea that there was in the world to be found such a merry existence, such an agreeable club of lion-hearted companions. Yes, men like these come to the prison, too. Here, for example, is an educated man with a sensitive conscience, with awareness, heart. The pain in his heart alone will be enough to do away with him, long before any punishment is inflicted upon him. Far more mercilessly, far more pitilessly than the sternest law, he condemns himself for his crime. But here, alongside him, is another man who never once, during the entire duration of his imprisonment, reflects upon the crime he has committed. He even considers himself to be in the right. And there are still others who commit crimes solely in order that they may be sent to prison and there escape from the infinitely more prison-like existence they led as free men. In freedom a man may have lived in the last stages of degradation, never having enough to eat and working for his employer from morning till night; while in prison the work is lighter than it is at home, there is plenty of bread, and of a high quality the like of which he has never encountered before; on holidays there is beef, there are alms, there is the chance to earn a copeck or two. And the company? A crafty, clever lot who know everything; and so he looks on his companions with respectful wonder; he has never seen men like these before; he considers them the very highest society there is to be found in all the world. Can it really be said that the same punishment is felt by these two men in equal degrees? But what is the use of dwelling on problems that are insoluble? The drum is beating, it is time to go back to our barracks.

First Impressions (3)

The final roll-call had begun. After this roll-call the barracks were locked up, each with its own special lock, and the convicts remained confined in them until daybreak.

The roll-call was carried out by the duty sergeant and two soldiers. The convicts were sometimes lined up for it in the courtyard, and the officer of the watch would put in an appearance. But more often the whole ceremony took place in a homely fashion: the roll was called in the barracks. The callers often made mistakes, miscounted, went away and came back again. At last the poor sentries would arrive at the desired figure and lock the barrack door. The barrack held as many as thirty convicts, jammed closely together on the plank bed. It was still too early to go to sleep. Everyone, it seemed, would have to find something to do.

The only representative of the authorities who stayed in the barrack overnight was the veteran I mentioned earlier. Each barrack also had a head convict who was nominated by the Major, for good behaviour, needless to say. These head convicts very frequently ended up by committing serious misdemeanours; then they would be flogged, stripped at once of all rank and replaced by others. The head convict in our barrack was Akim Akimych, who to my surprise would quite often shout at the other convicts. The convicts usually shouted back at him with jeers. The veteran was more sensible, and never interfered: if he did sometimes break his silence, it was only out of a sense of decorum, in order to put his conscience at rest. He usually sat on his camp bed in silence, stitching boots. The convicts paid hardly any attention to him.

On this first day of my prison life I made one observation which the passage of time convinced me was correct. This was that all those who were not convicts, whoever they were, from those, like guards and sentries, who were in direct contact with the convicts, to all those who were in any way connected with prison life, had a somewhat exaggerated view of the convicts. It was as if they spent each minute in the uneasy expectation of a convict going for them with a knife. But what was most remarkable was that the convicts were aware that they inspired fear, and this obviously gave them a certain audacity. Whereas the best commander for convicts is one who is not afraid of them. And indeed, in spite of their audacity, convicts do generally prefer to be trusted. It is even possible to win their favour in this way. During my time in prison it happened, although extremely rarely, that some senior official visited the prison without a personal guard. It was instructive to see how this impressed the convicts, and impressed them favourably. A fearless visitor of this type always aroused their respect, and even if there was a possibility that something unpleasant might happen, it would not happen in his presence. The fear that convicts inspire is to be found wherever there are convicts, and I really do not know what it springs from. It does of course have some foundation, starting with the convict's outward appearance, the look of the acknowledged bandit; in addition to this, anyone entering a prison can feel that this entire body of men has been assembled here against its will and that, whatever measures are taken, it is impossible to convert a living man into a corpse: he retains his feelings, his thirst for vengeance and life, his passions and his desire to satisfy them. Yet, in spite of this, I am positively convinced that there is no reason to be afraid of convicts. A man does not so readily or so swiftly go for another with a knife. In short, even if there is some possible danger at times, one may conclude from the rarity of such unfortunate incidents that it is not a very great one. I speak here, needless to say, only of convicted prisoners, many of whom are glad that they have at last reached the prison (so attractive does a new life sometimes appear!) and are consequently disposed to behave quietly and peaceably; and, quite apart from this, their own kind will not allow the truly restless ones among them to behave with too much audacity. Every convict, no matter how bold and cheeky, is afraid of everything in the prison. The prisoner who is awaiting trial is another matter altogether. He is truly capable of physically assaulting a complete stranger for no reason at all, or only because, for example, he must endure a flogging the next day; and if a fresh charge is brought against him, his punishment will be postponed. In this case, the attack has a cause and a purpose: the purpose is 'to better his lot', at all costs and as rapidly as possible. I can even give the details of one strange psychological case of this type. In the military wing of our prison there was one convict who had been a soldier and who had not been deprived of his statutory rights. The court had given him a couple of years' hard labour, and he was the most arrant boaster and coward. As a rule, boasting and cowardice are very rarely met with in the Russian soldier. Our soldiers always seem to be so busy that they would not have time for boasting, even if they wanted to. But if indeed they are boasters, then they are nearly always loafers and cowards, too. Dutov (such was the name of this convict) finally polished off his short sentence and went back to his line battalion. But since all like him who are sent to prison for correction go to the bad for once and for all, it usually happens that after they have been on the loose again for two or three weeks, they end up facing trial once more and turn up in the prison again, this time not for two or three years, merely, but in the 'habitual' category, for fifteen or twenty years. Some three weeks after leaving the prison, Dutov stole something from under lock and key; in addition, he was found guilty of obscene behaviour and brawling. He was brought before the court and sentenced to a severe flogging with hard labour. Reduced to the last stages of terror by the punishment that awaited him, like the most wretched coward, the day before he was to run the gauntlet he took a knife and went for the duty officer who had entered his barrack. Needless to say, he understood very well that by an action like this he would immeasurably increase both the severity of the beating he would receive and the length of the term of penal servitude he would have to do. But his calculations were centred only on postponing, even for a few days, a few hours, the terrible moment when the soldiers would begin to flog him. He was such a coward that when he went for the officer with the knife he did not wound him, but merely went through the motions of an attack for the sake of form, merely in order to establish a new crime for which he would have to be brought before a court once again.

The moment before the flogging that begins his punishment is of course dreadful for the convicted prisoner, and over several years I was to see rather a large number of men on the eve of that day which was so fateful for them. I used to encounter the prisoners awaiting punishment when I was ill in the convict ward of the hospital, which was quite often. It is a fact well-known to all the convicts all over Russia that the people who are most sympathetic towards them are doctors. The doctors never make any distinction between convicts, as almost all non-convicts do, with the exception of the common people. The latter will never censure the convict for his crime, no matter how terrible, and will forgive him everything because of the punishment he has endured and because of his general misfortune. It is not for nothing that the common people throughout Russia call crime a misfortune, and criminals 'unfortunates'. This definition is of profound significance. It is even more important because it is formulated unconsciously, instinctively. And the doctors are a real sanctuary for the convicts in many instances, especially for men who are awaiting punishment and are detained under conditions far more rigorous than those experienced by men who have already been punished ... And so the prisoner who is waiting to be punished, having worked out for himself the probable date of the terrible day, often goes into hospital in an attempt to postpone the dreadful moment if only by a little. When he is discharged from the hospital in the almost certain knowledge that the day that follows will be the fatal one, he is nearly always in a state of violent agitation. Some try to conceal their feelings out of pride, but their clumsy, assumed bravura does not deceive their companions. Everyone knows what is up and keeps quiet out of common kindness. I knew one prisoner, a young man who had been a soldier: he had committed murder and had been sentenced to the maximum number of blows with the sticks. He was so stricken with terror that on the evening before he was due to be beaten he made himself drink a whole jugful of vodka mixed with snuff. Vodka always turns up at a prisoner's side before he is flogged, by the way. It is smuggled in long before the day of the punishment and is obtained in exchange for large sums of money; the convict who is to be punished will gladly deny himself the most rudimentary necessities of life for six months in order to save up the sum needed to buy half a pint of vodka, to be drunk a quarter of an hour before the flogging. There is a general consensus of opinion among the convicts that a man who is drunk does not feel the lash or the sticks so keenly. But I have digressed from my story. The poor young man, having drunk his jugful of vodka, was immediately taken violently ill: he began to vomit blood, and was removed to hospital almost unconscious. This vomiting so ruptured his chest that a few days later he was discovered to have genuine symptoms of tuberculosis, from which some six months later he died. The doctors who treated his tuberculosis could not say what its origin had been.

However, in speaking of the cowardice often encountered in criminals before their punishment, I should add that on the other hand some of them astonish the observer by the extraordinary degree of fearlessness they display. I can remember several instances of bravery that amounted to a kind of insensibility, and these instances were by no means rare. I particularly recall my encounter with one fearsome criminal. One summer day a rumour started to circulate in the convict ward of the hospital that the notorious bandit and deserter Orlov was to be flogged that evening, and that after the flogging he was to be brought to our ward. While they waited for Orlov to arrive, the patients in the ward insisted that the flogging would be a savage one. They were all somewhat agitated, and I must confess that I also awaited the appearance of the notorious bandit with extreme curiosity. I had heard amazing stories about him. He was a villain of a kind that is rare, a man who carved up old men and children in cold blood. He was a man with a terrible strength of will and a proud awareness of his strength. He had confessed to many murders and had been sentenced to run the gauntlet. In the evening they brought him to the wing. It was already dark and the candles had been lit. Orlov was almost unconscious, terribly pale, with thick, tangled, jet-black hair. His back had swollen up and was a bloody blue colour. All night the convicts looked after him, brought him fresh water, turned him over from one side to the other, gave him medicine, as if they were looking after a blood relation or a benefactor. The next day he had regained consciousness and walked twice round the ward! I found this quite amazing: he had arrived in the hospital in such a weak and exhausted state. In one go he had taken the entire half of all the strokes to which he had been sentenced. The doctor had only halted the execution of the punishment when he observed that any further flogging would inevitably bring about the criminal's death. Besides, Orlov was small of build and had a weak constitution; in addition, he was exhausted by the long time he had been held in confinement pending his trial. Anyone who has ever had occasion to meet convicts awaiting execution of their sentence will probably remember their thin, pale, emaciated faces and their feverish stares for a long time afterwards. In spite of that, Orlov quickly recovered. What apparently happened was that his inner psychic energy provided a powerful boost to nature. This man was not really quite an ordinary mortal. I sought closer acquaintance with him out of curiosity and studied him for a whole week. I can say unequivocally that never in my life have I met a man of stronger, more adamantine character. In Tobolsk I once saw a famous criminal of the same type, a former bandit leader. He was just like a wild animal, and as you stood beside him, not yet knowing who he was, you had an instinctive feeling that you were in the presence of a terrible being. The most shocking thing about him for me was his spiritual indifference. The flesh had gained such an ascendancy over all his mental qualities that one glance at his face was enough to tell you that all that was left in him was a savage desire for physical pleasure, for sexual passion and carnal satisfaction. I am certain that Korenyev－that was the bandit's name－would have lost his nerve and would have shaken with terror if faced with an imminent flogging, in spite of the fact that he was capable of carving a man up without batting an eyelid. Orlov was his complete antithesis. This was truly a case of total victory over the flesh. It was evident that this man had boundless self-mastery, that he had nothing but contempt for any kind of torture and punishment, and that he was not afraid of anything under the sun All that could be seen in him was an infinite energy, a thirst for activity, for revenge, and for the attainment of the goal he had set himself. I was also struck by his strange arrogance. He looked at everything in an incredibly haughty manner, not in such a way as to suggest that he was giving himself airs, but somehow naturally. I do not think that there was any being in the world that could have influenced him by its authority alone. He looked at everything with a kind of unexpected calm, as if there was nothing in the world that could surprise him. And although he was fully aware that the other prisoners looked upon him with respect, he never showed off in their presence. This was particularly interesting, since vanity and arrogance are common to almost all convicts without exception. He had a great deal of common sense and was in some ways strangely outspoken, though not at all garrulous. To my questions he answered bluntly that he was waiting to recover so that he could receive the rest of his punishment as soon as possible, and that before the flogging he had at first been afraid that he would not be able to come through it. 'But now,' he added, winking at me, 'now it's all over. I'll take the rest of the flogging and then they'll send me straight off to Nerchinsk with a working party, but I'll escape on the way there. You bet I'll escape! Just wait till my back recovers!' And all during those five days he waited avidly for the moment when he could apply for his discharge. During this time he was sometimes very given to laughter and geniality. I tried to talk to him about his exploits. He would frown slightly during these questionings, but his replies were always frank. But when he realized that I was trying to get at his conscience, to secure at least some kind of repentance from him, he looked at me contemptuously and haughtily; as though in his eyes I had suddenly become a silly little boy to whom it was impossible to talk as one would to an adult. His features even expressed something approaching pity for me. After a minute or so, he burst out laughing at me in the most artless fashion, without any irony whatsoever, and I am certain that when he was alone once more and remembered what I had said to him, he had several good laughs to himself. In the end he was discharged with a back that had not quite healed; I was also being discharged at this time, and we returned from the hospital together: I to the prison and he to the guardhouse alongside, where he had been held previously. As we said goodbye to one another, he shook my hand, this being a sign of great trust on his part. I think he did this because he was so pleased with himself and the present moment. What it boiled down to was that he could not help despising me and seeing me as a weak, pathetic, submissive creature, in every way his inferior. The next day he was taken out for the second half of his punishment ...

When our barrack was locked it suddenly took on a peculiar aspect－that of a real dwelling-place, a home. Only now could I see my companions, the prisoners, just as they might be at home. During the daytime, NCOs, officers of the watch and senior prison officials generally are liable to come into the prison, and for this reason the convicts behave slightly differently, as though not quite at their ease, as though expecting something to happen at any moment, and in a state of some anxiety. But no sooner was the barrack locked than all the men would sit down calmly, each in his own place, and practically all would begin to work at some handicraft or other. The room would be suddenly flooded with light. Each man had his own candle and candlestick, the latter usually made of wood. One would sit stitching boots, another sewing some garment or other. The foul air of the barrack would grow fouler from hour to hour. A little group of idlers would squat in a corner around a square of carpet spread on the floor, playing cards. Almost every barrack had a convict who owned a small square of threadbare carpet and a pack of incredibly soiled, greasy cards. Such an outfit was known as a maydan. Its owner would rent it out to convicts who wanted to gamble at cards, for a charge of fifteen copecks per night; this was how he made his money. The gam-blers usually played games like 'three leaves', 'cabinet', and so on. They were all games of chance. Each player placed a heap of copper coins in front of him－all that he had in his pockets－and got up only when he had lost everything or had taken all his companions' money. The game finished late at night, and sometimes lasted until dawn, until the very moment the barrack was unlocked. In our barrack, as in all the others in the prison, there were always some men who were beggars, destitute former nomads who had gambled or drunk all their money away, or who were quite simply beggars by nature. I say 'by nature', and wish to place particular emphasis on this expression. It is a fact that everywhere among our people, whatever the surroundings, under whatever conditions, there are always a few strange characters who are peaceable and by no means lazy, but who seem to have been fated to remain beggars to the end of their days. They are always solitary men without family, they always wear an air of neglect, they always look downtrodden and depressed about something, and they are forever being ordered about by someone, run-ning errands for someone, usually an idler or a nouveau riche. Every original idea, every initiative is a vexation and a burden to them. It is as if they had been born on condition that they initiate nothing themselves, but merely serve and live according to the will of others, dance to another man's tune; their purpose in life is to carry out forever the wishes of someone else. To cap it all, no change of circumstances, no spin of the wheel of fortune can ever make them rich. They remain beggars forever. I have noticed that such characters are encoun-tered not only among the common people, but among all societies, classes, parties, journals and associations. It was the same in every barrack, in every prison: no sooner had a maydan been assembled than someone like this immediately appeared in order to service it. And indeed, no maydan could function without such an attendant. He was usually hired by all the gamblers together for the whole night, at a rate of around five silver copecks, and his principal duty was to stand on watch all night. He usually froze and shivered in the darkness of the passage for some six or seven hours in a temperature of minus thirty degrees, listening for every tap, every clang, every step that came from outside. The Major or the sentries sometimes appeared in the prison rather late at night. They would enter quietly and discover the card-players, the men at their work, and the extra candles, the light from which could be seen outside. At any rate, when the lock on the door from the passage to the yard began to make sudden clanking sounds, it was too late to hide, to snuff out the candles and lie down on the plank bed. But since the attendant on watch got a very rough reception from the users of the maydan afterwards, the number of such unfortunate cases was extremely small. Five copecks is, of course, a ridiculously small payment, even in prison; but I was always struck by the hardness and lack of mercy shown by the men who did the hiring, both in this and in all other cases I witnessed. 'You've had your money, now get on with the job!' This was an argument that admitted of no rebuttal. For every half copeck he paid out, the hirer would take all that he could, he would even take more if possible, and would still consider he was doing the man a favour. The idler, the drunkard who threw his money to right and to left without heed always short-changed his attendant, and I observed this to be the case in more than one prison, in more than one maydan.

I have already said that almost everyone in the barrack settled down to some form of occupation: leaving aside the gamblers, there were not more than five men who were completely idle; they went to bed immediately the barrack was locked. My place on the plank bed was right next to the door. On the other side of the planking, his head next to mine, Akim Akimych had his place. He worked until about ten or eleven, glueing together a multicoloured Chinese lantern for some customer in the town who had ordered it and would pay rather handsomely for it. Akim Akimych was most adept at making these lanterns, and he worked methodically, without pause; when he had finished working, he cleared everything neatly away, spread out his mattress, said his prayers and lay down obediently on the bed. He took this obedience and this sense of order, it appeared, to the most trivially pedantic extremes; it was obvious that, like all narrow-minded and limited people, he considered himself to be very clever. I took a dislike to him from my very first day in the prison, though I recall that on that first day I thought about him a great deal and found that my main reaction was one of surprise that such a man, instead of making a success of his life, had ended up in prison. I shall have occasion to speak of Akim Akimych several times in what follows.

But let me briefly describe the inhabitants of our barrack. I was to live many years in it, and all these men were to be my future barrack-mates and companions. The reader will understand that I looked at them all with avid curiosity. To the left of my place on the plank bed a group of Caucasian mountain tribesmen had their berths. Most of them had been sent here for armed robbery and their terms were of varying duration. There were two Lezghins, a Chechen and three Daghestan Tartars. The Chechen was a sullen and morose creature; he hardly ever spoke to anyone and constantly looked around him with hatred and mistrust, his smile en-venomed and maliciously sneering. One of the Lezghins was an old man, with a long, thin, angular nose, who looked every inch a bandit. But the other one, Nurra, made the most pleasing and likeable impression on me from the first day. He was still young, not very tall, and Herculean in build. His hair was completely blond, and he had light blue eyes; he was snub-nosed, had a face like that of a Finnish woman, and was bow-legged from having spent his earlier life constantly on horseback. His entire body had been hacked and scarred all over by bayonets and bullets. In the Caucasus he had belonged to a peaceful tribe, but had made constant visits on the sly to the hostile mountain tribesmen and had taken part with them in attacks on the Russians. Everyone in the prison was very fond of him. He was always cheerful, had a friendly word for everyone, worked without com-plaining and was placid and serene, though he often surveyed the vileness and filth of the convicts' lives with indignation and was filled with rage by any kind of thieving, foul play, drunken behaviour or indeed by anything that was dishonourable; but he did not start quarrels, simply turned away in angry disapproval. Dur-ing the whole of his stay in prison he never once stole anything, never committed one unworthy act. He was extremely religious, and said his prayers devoutly. Dur-ing the fasts that preceded the Islamic feast days he would go without food and drink like a fanatic, and stand whole nights on end in prayer. He was liked by everyone and everyone believed in his honesty. 'Nurra's a lion,' the convicts used to say; and the nickname 'lion' stayed with him. He was resolutely convinced that when he had served out his prison sentence he would be returned to his home in the Caucasus, and he lived in the hopeful expectation of that day. I think that if he had been deprived of this hope he would have died. From my first day in the prison he struck my attention forcibly. It was impossible not to notice his kindly, sympathetic face among the malicious, sullen and sneering countenances of the other convicts. I had hardly been half an hour in the prison when, walking past me, he patted me on the shoulder, laughing in my face as he did so. At first I did not understand what this meant. Besides, his Russian was very bad. Soon after this he gave me a friendly clap on the shoulder. He did this again and again, and so it went on for three days. As I guessed at the time and as I discovered subsequently to be the case, this meant that he felt sorry for me, that he sensed how difficult it was for me to get my bearings in the prison, that he wanted to show me his friendship, raise my spirits and make me feel assured of his protection. Good, simple-hearted Nurra!

There were three Daghestan Tartars, and they were all brothers. Two of them were getting on in years, but the third, Aley, was no more than twenty-two and looked even younger. His place on the plank bed was next to mine. His handsome, open, intelligent, and at the same time good-naturedly straightforward face drew my heart to him at once, and I was so glad that it was him fate had sent me as a neighbour, and not some other prisoner. All of his soul was expressed in his handsome, one might even say beautiful face. His smile was so full of trust, so childishly guileless; his large black eyes were so soft, so tender that the sight of him brought me a peculiar contentment, even an alleviation of my depression and sadness. I am not exaggerating. Back in Daghestan one of his elder brothers (he had five brothers, who were older than him; two of them had ended up in some factory or other) had once told him to take his sabre and mount his horse, so that they could set off on some kind of expedition together. Respect for older family members is so great among the mountain tribesmen that not only did the boy not dare, he did not even think to ask where they were going. The others did not consider it necessary to tell him. They were all going off on a bandit raid, to ambush and rob a rich Armenian merchant on the road. So it was: they killed the escort, cut the Armenian's throat and pillaged his wares. But the crime was discovered: all six of them were seized, brought before a court, convicted, flogged and sent to Siberia to do penal labour. The only mercy shown by the court to Aley was the reduction in his sentence; he was deported for four years. His brothers had a great affection for him, and this was more of a fatherly than of a brotherly kind. He was a comfort to them in their exile, and they, who were generally morose and sullen, always smiled when they looked at him. When they talked to him (and they spoke to him very little, as if they considered him a boy with whom it was impossible to discuss serious matters), their stern faces relaxed and I would guess that they were talking about something humorous, almost childish; at any rate, they would always look at one another and laugh good-naturedly when they listened to his reply. He himself hardly ever dared to speak to them first, such was the esteem in which he held them. It is difficult to imagine how this boy could have preserved such tenderness of heart throughout all the time of his imprisonment, how he could have nurtured within himself such sincerity, such a likeable disposition, such a resistance to coarseness and profligate behaviour. He was, however, a person of strength and perseverance, in spite of all his obvious gentleness. I got to know him well later on. He was as chaste as a pure maiden, and a base, cynical, filthy, unjust or violent action committed by anyone in the prison lit a fire of indignation in his beautiful eyes, which thereby grew all the more beautiful. But he avoided quarrels and cursing, though he was not generally one to let himself be insulted without getting his own back, and he knew how to stand up for himself. He quarrelled with no one, however: everyone liked him and everyone treated him with affection. To me he was at first merely polite. Little by little I began to hold conversations with him; within a few months he had learned to speak excellent Russian, something his brothers did not achieve in all the time they spent in the prison. He seemed to me an extremely intelligent youth, extremely modest and fastidious; he seemed also to have thought already a great deal about life. It is perhaps as well if I say now in advance that I consider Aley no ordinary human being, and I remember my meeting with him as one of the best I experienced in all my life. There are certain natures so inherently beautiful, so richly endowed by God that the very notion that they could ever alter for the worse seems an impossible one. Your mind will always be at rest where they are concerned. My mind is at rest concerning Aley now. Where is he now?...

Once, quite a long time after my arrival in the prison, I was lying on the plank bed thinking miserably about something or other. Aley, normally always active and industrious, had his hands free for once, even though it was too early to go to bed yet. But this was the time of their Islamic holiday, and they were not working. He lay with his hands behind his head, thinking about something. Suddenly he asked me:

'Are you feeling very miserable just now?'

I looked at him with curiosity; this swift, direct question from Aley seemed strange to me, Aley who was always so fastidious, so scrupulous, so clever of heart: but, looking more attentively, I saw in his face so much anguish, so many painful memories that I immediately realized he himself was intensely miserable, particularly at that very moment. I told him what I had surmised. He gave a sigh and smiled sadly. I liked his smile, it was always tender and full of warmth. Moreover, when he smiled, he exposed two rows of pearly teeth which might have been envied by the most beautiful woman in the world.

'Why Aley, I expect you've been thinking about the way they're celebrating this holiday in Daghestan, haven't you? It's nice there, I bet?'

'Yes,' he answered with enthusiasm, and his eyes shone. 'How did you know I was thinking about that?'

'How could I help knowing? Well, is it better there than it is here?'

'Oh, why do you say that?...'

'What flowers there must be now in that country of yours, what paradise!...'

'O-oh, don't go on.' He was extremely agitated.

'Listen, Aley, do you have a sister, back there?'

'Yes, but what's it to you?'

'She must be a beautiful woman if she looks anything like you.'

'Like me? She's so beautiful that there's no woman to compare with her in the whole of Daghestan. My sister! You've never seen anything like her. My mother's beautiful, too.'

'And did your mother love you?'

'Oh, what are you saying? She's probably died of a broken heart thinking about me by now. I was her favourite son. She loved me more than my sister, more than anyone else ... Last night I dreamed that she came here and cried over me.'

He stopped talking, and did not say another word that evening. But from that time onwards he looked for every opportunity of talking to me, although a feeling of respect which for some reason he had for me restrained him from ever being the one to start up our conversations. But he was very pleased if I spoke to him. I questioned him about the Caucasus, about his previous life. His brothers did not prevent him from talking to me, they even seemed to like it. Seeing me grow fonder and fonder of Aley, they became much more friendly towards me.

Aley helped me with my work and did what he could to be of service to me in the barracks. It was evident that he very much enjoyed making things even a little easier for me, that he enjoyed obliging me, and in his endeavour to oblige there was not the slightest element of self-degradation or desire for any kind of advantage, but rather a warm, friendly feeling for me, one which by now he did not trouble to conceal. What was more, he had a great many mechanical skills: he had learned how to do a pretty good job of sewing up a shirt or a set of underwear, he could make a pair of boots, and later on he learned as much carpentry as he could. His brothers praised him and were proud of him.

'Listen, Aley,' I said to him once. 'Why don't you learn to read and write Russian? Don't you know how useful that would be for you here in Siberia later on?'

'I'd like to, very much. But who would give me lessons?'

'There are plenty of educated men here! Well, would you like me to teach you?'

'Oh yes, please do!' And he almost stood up on the plank bed, putting his hands together beseechingly and looking at me.

We started our lessons the following evening. I had a Russian translation of the New Testament－a book that was not forbidden in the prison. Using this book alone, without any alphabet, Aley gained a first-rate reading ability within the space of a few weeks. After three weeks he already had a thorough knowledge of literary Russian. He learned with fervour, with enthusiasm.

We once read the whole of the Sermon on the Mount together. I noticed that he articulated some passages with special feeling.

I asked him if he liked what he had been reading.

He looked up quickly and the colour came flooding to his cheeks.

'Oh yes,' he replied. 'Yes, Jesus is a holy prophet, Jesus spoke the words of Allah. How good it is.'

'Which part do you like best?'

'Where he says: "Forgive, love, don't hurt others and love your enemies, too." Oh, what he says is so good.'

He turned to his brothers, who were listening to our conversation, and began saying something heatedly to them. They had a long, serious talk together, nodding their heads affirmatively all the time. Then with grandly benevolent, that is to say purely Muslim smiles (which I like so much precisely for their grandeur), they turned to me and confirmed that Jesus was indeed a prophet of Allah and that he had performed great miracles; that he had made a bird out of clay, blown on it, and it had flown away ... and that this was written in their books. As they said this, they were quite confident that their praise of Jesus would give me great pleasure, and Aley was obviously overjoyed that his brothers had decided they wanted to please me in this way.

Our writing lessons were also extremely successful. Aley managed to get hold of some paper (and would not allow me to pay for it), pens, ink, and in the space of something like two months had learned to write perfectly. Even his brothers were taken with this. Their pride and satisfaction knew no bounds. They could not thank me enough. If it happened that we were working together, they would vie with one another to help me and considered doing so a great stroke of fortune. That is to say nothing of Aley. He loved me, perhaps, as much as he loved his brothers. I will never forget the day he left prison. He took me behind the barrack and there threw his arms around my neck and burst into tears. He had never kissed me or cried in my presence before. 'You've done so much for me, so much,' he said, 'that my own father and mother could not have done as much: you've made me into a man, God will reward you and I will never forget you...'

Where are you, where are you now, my dear, dear good Aley?...

Besides the Circassians there was in our barracks a whole group of Poles, who constituted an entirely separate family, and who had practically no communication with the other convicts. I have already said that for their exclusivity and their hatred of the Russian convicts, they were in their turn hated by the others. These were sick, exhausted men: there were six of them. Some of them were educated; of these I will speak in detail later on. During the final years of my life in the prison I sometimes got books from them. The first book I read had a strong and peculiar effect on me. I will describe these impressions in detail elsewhere. I find them rather curious, and I am sure that they will be quite incomprehensible to most people. It is impossible to judge certain phenomena without having experienced them. I will say one thing: that moral deprivations are harder to bear than any physical torments. When the common man goes to prison he arrives among his own kind of society, perhaps even among a society that is more developed than the one he has left. He has, of course, lost a great deal: his country, his family, everything－but his environment remains the same. An educated man, subject by law to the same punishment as the commoner, often loses incomparably more. He must suppress in himself all his normal wants and habits; he must make the transition to an environment that is inadequate for him, he must learn to breathe an air that is not suited to him ... He is a fish that has been dragged out of the water and onto the sand ... And often the punishment that the law considers equal and apportions equally becomes ten times more painful for him. This is true even if we only take into account the material habits which he must sacrifice.

But the Poles had formed their own private, exclusive group. There were six of them, and they stuck together. Of all the other convicts in our barrack they liked only the Jew, for the sole reason, perhaps, that they found him amusing. However, the other convicts also liked our Jew, though they all without exception laughed at him. He was the only Jew in our barrack, and even now I cannot recall him without laughing. Every time I looked at him I would think of the Jew Yankel in Gogol's Taras Bulba who, when he undressed in order to climb, together with his Jewess, into some sort of cupboard, looked uncommonly like a chicken. Isay Fomich, our Jew, was the spitting image of a plucked chicken. He was no longer young, a man of about fifty, of small stature and weak constitution, cunning and at the same time decidedly stupid. He was insolent and arrogant, and at the same time a terrible coward. He was covered in a kind of wrinkles, and on his forehead and cheeks there were brand-marks which had been burned there on the scaffold. I could not for the life of me understand how he had been able to bear sixty lashes. He had been sent here on a charge of murder. He carried hidden on him a prescription which his fellow-Jews had acquired from a doctor for him immediately after his flogging and branding on the scaffold. With this prescription he could obtain an ointment that would remove his brand-marks in a couple of weeks. He did not dare to use this ointment in the prison and was waiting for his twelfth year in the prison to be up; after that he would be sent to be a settler, and he firmly intended then to make use of the prescription. 'If not, so how vood I get married?' he said to me once. 'And I vant so much to get married.' He and I were great friends. He was always in the most excellent of spirits. He found life in the prison easy; he was a jeweller by trade, and he was swamped by orders from the town, where there was no jeweller, and by this means escaped work that was physically demanding. Needless to say, he was a moneylender as well, and he kept the whole prison supplied with money at interest and on security. He had come here before me, and one of the Poles described his arrival to me in detail. It is a very funny story, which I will tell later on; I shall have occasion to speak of Isay Fomich in several other contexts.

The other inhabitants of our barrack were four Old Believers, old men who were assiduous and dogmatically literal readers of the Bible (the old man from the Starodubye settlement was one of them); two or three Ukrainians, dreary men; a young convict with a thin face and a thin nose, aged about twenty-three, who had already murdered eight people; a group of forgers, one of whom was the life and soul of the whole barrack; and finally a few gloomy, morose individuals who were unshaven and disfigured, close-jawed and envious, looked distrustfully and with hatred around them, and did so intentionally; who would remain frowning, close-jawed and full of hatred for long years yet to come－for the entire duration of their imprisonment. All this merely glimmered before my eyes on this first, joyless evening of my new life－glimmered amidst the smoke and soot, the oaths and utter cynicism, in the foul air, to the clanking of fetters, amidst curses and shameless laughter. I lay on the bare plank bed with my clothes under my head (I did not yet have a pillow then), and covered myself with my sheepskin coat; but I could not get to sleep for a long time, although I was completely exhausted and broken from all the monstrous and unexpected impressions of that first day. But my new life was only just beginning. A great deal still lay ahead of me, things of which I had never had any idea, things I had never foreseen...

目录
Contents
《伟大的思想》中文版序
译者导读
流行在大都市里的荒唐语
南海泡沫危机
郁金香狂热
疯狂的慢性投毒犯
1．Popular Follies of Great Cities
2．The South-Sea Bubble
3．The Tulipomania
4．The Slow Poisoners
返回总目录

企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想

非同寻常的大众幻想

（英汉双语）

［英］查尔斯·麦基　著

郝瑞丽　汉译

中国出版传媒股份有限公司

中国对外翻译出版有限公司

图书在版编目（CIP）数据

非同寻常的大众幻想：英汉双语／（英）麦基著；郝瑞丽译．—北京：中国对外翻译出版有限公司，2014.1

（企鹅口袋书系列·伟大的思想）

ISBN 978-7-5001-3889-1

Ⅰ．①非…　Ⅱ．①麦…②郝…　Ⅲ．①英语—汉语—对照读物②随笔—作品集—英国—近代　Ⅳ．①H319.4:I

中国版本图书馆CIP数据核字（2014）第006119号

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
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Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds first published 1841

This selection published in Penguin Books 2010

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未经允许，不得擅用。

中国对外翻译出版有限公司与企鹅图书有限公司联合出版

《伟大的思想》中文版序

企鹅《伟大的思想》丛书2004年开始出版。在英国，已付印80种，尚有20种计划出版。美国出版的丛书规模略小，德国的同类丛书规模更小一些。丛书销量已远远超过200万册，在全球很多人中间，尤其是学生当中，普及了哲学和政治学。中文版《伟大的思想》丛书的推出，迈出了新的一步，令人欢欣鼓舞。

推出这套丛书的目的是让读者再次与一些伟大的非小说类经典著作面对面地交流。太长时间以来，确定版本依据这样一个假设——读者在教室里学习这些著作，因此需要导读、详尽的注释、参考书目等。此类版本无疑非常有用，但我想，如果能够重建托马斯·潘恩《常识》或约翰·罗斯金《艺术与人生》初版时的环境，重新营造更具亲和力的氛围，那也是一件有意思的事。当时，读者除了原作者及其自身的理性思考外没有其他参照。

这样做有一定的缺点：每个作者的话难免有难解或不可解之处，一些重要的背景知识会缺失。例如，读者对亨利·梭罗创作时的情况毫无头绪，也不了解该书的接受情况及影响。不过，这样做的优点也很明显。最突出的优点是，作者的初衷又一次变得重要起来——托马斯·潘恩的愤怒、查尔斯·达尔文的灵光、塞内加的隐逸。这些作家在那么多国家影响了那么多人的生活，其影响不可估量，有的长达几个世纪，读他们书的乐趣罕有匹敌。没有亚当·斯密或阿图尔·叔本华，难以想象我们今天的世界。这些小书的创作年代已很久远，但其中的话已彻底改变了我们的政治学、经济学、智力生活、社会规划和宗教信仰。

《伟大的思想》丛书一直求新求变。地区不同，收录的作家也不同。在中国或美国，一些作家更受欢迎。英国《伟大的思想》收录的一些作家在其他地方则默默无闻。称其为“伟大的思想”，我们亦慎之又慎。思想之伟大，在于其影响之深远，而不意味着这些思想是“好”的，实际上一些书可列入“坏”思想之列。丛书中很多作家受到同一丛书其他作家的很大影响，例如，马塞尔·普鲁斯特承认受约翰·罗斯金影响很大，米歇尔·德·蒙田也承认深受塞内加影响，但其他作家彼此憎恨，如果发现他们被收入同一丛书，一定会气愤难平。不过，读者可自行决定这些思想是否合理。我们衷心希望，您能在阅读这些杰作中得到乐趣。

《伟大的思想》出版者

西蒙·温德尔

Introduction to the Chinese Editions of Great Ideas

Penguin's Great Ideas series began publication in 2004. In the UK we now have 80 copies in print with plans to publish a further 20. A somewhat smaller list is published in the USA and a related, even smaller series in Germany. The books have sold now well over two million copies and have popularized philosophy and politics for many people around the world — particularly students. The launch of a Chinese Great Ideas series is an extremely exciting new development.

The intention behind the series was to allow readers to be once more face to face with some of the great nonfiction classics. For too long the editions of these books were created on the assumption that you were studying them in the classroom and that the student needed an introduction, extensive notes, a bibliography and so on. While this sort of edition is of course extremely useful, I thought it would be interesting to recreate a more intimate feeling — to recreate the atmosphere in which, for example, Thomas Paine's Common Sense or John Ruskin's On Art and Life was first published — where the reader has no other guide than the original author and his or her own common sense.

This method has its severe disadvantages — there will inevitably be statements made by each author which are either hard or impossible to understand, some important context might be missing. For example the reader has no clue as to the conditions under which Henry Thoreau was writing his book and the reader cannot be aware of the book's reception or influence. The advantages however are very clear — most importantly the original intentions of the author become once more important. The sense of anger in Thomas Paine, of intellectual excitement in Charles Darwin, of resignation in Seneca — few things can be more thrilling than to read writers who have had such immeasurable influence on so many lives, sometimes for centuries, in many different countries. Our world would not make sense without Adam Smith or Arthur Schopenhauer — our politics, economics, intellectual lives, social planning, religious beliefs have all been fundamentally changed by the words in these little books, first written down long ago.

The Great Ideas series continues to change and evolve. In different parts of the world different writers would be included. In China or in the United States there are some writers who are liked much more than others. In the UK there are writers in the Great Ideas series who are ignored elsewhere. We have also been very careful to call the series Great Ideas — these ideas are great because they have been so enormously influential, but this does not mean that they are Good Ideas — indeed some of the books would probably qualify as Bad Ideas. Many of the writers in the series have been massively influenced by others in the series — for example Marcel Proust owned so much to John Ruskin, Michel de Montaigne to Seneca. But others hated each other and would be distressed to find themselves together in the same series! But readers can decide the validity of these ideas for themselves. We very much hope that you enjoy these remarkable books.

Simon Winder

Publisher

Great Ideas

译者导读

查尔斯·麦基（Charles Mackay）生于1812年3月26日，卒于1889年12月24日，苏格兰诗人、作家、小说家和歌曲作家，以其文集《大众的迷茫与狂热》（Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds）而闻名于世。本书所选四篇作品即出自此文集。

《流行在大都市里的荒唐语》讲述了一些毫无意义的表达在都市坊间毫无缘由的起落兴衰；《南海泡沫危机》讲述了南海公司兴起到衰落的全过程，展示了泡沫膨胀时的斑斓和破灭时的黯淡，重现了当年金融市场的疯狂和荒谬；《郁金香狂热》描述人们如何仅仅为了一棵球形的根茎而倾家荡产，举国上下如何为了这羸弱的花朵而陷入一片混乱；《疯狂的慢性投毒犯》揭露那些天良尽失之人如何残害朋友和至亲，恶贯满盈之人如何从戕害人命中谋取暴利。

这四篇文章所讲述的故事截然不同，然而，却揭露了人类这个貌似智慧的动物，一不小心就极容易滑进去的一种状态——丧失理智的狂癫状。处于这种状态的所谓人类，已然没有了任何的思考能力和意识，犹如风中柳絮，或飘扬高空，或陷入泥潭，所有一切皆由外力主使。伦敦的市民张口闭口“阔斯”的时候，从来没有去想为什么这个音节具有如此丰富的含义和如此巨大的威力；所有南海公司和一系列泡沫公司的狂热股民，从来没有去想那些难以置信的事实如何产生高额的利润；荷兰的上上下下，也没有一个人去想一个类似洋葱的花根如何可以和祖产画上等号；那些把毒药坦然放进至亲的食物中的人，一样没有去想，亲人死后，人类良心和法律是否会允许他的“坦然”一直持续下去。

这种理智尽失的狂癫状只有两个结局：一种是始于狂癫、终于无形的“善始善终”，比如盲目热爱一个个表达的伦敦市民，只是在使用中过瘾，而从不去想每一个表达何去何从。而另一种结局便是从狂癫的顶峰跌入现实的谷底，或身败名裂，或粉身碎骨。泡沫公司的股民和股东们不得不面临泡沫破灭的现实，变得一贫如洗，甚至锒铛入狱；郁金香的追随者不得不面临一个“洋葱般根茎”回归本位的现实，家产尽失，血本无归；而那些将至亲置于死地的狂徒必然得接受人间道德和法律的惩罚，被斩首示众，甚至被挫骨扬灰。

文章和文章所讲述的故事都已成为遥远的历史，但是，它们所蕴含的深刻含义，对于今天我们这个充斥着各种欲望的社会，仍旧具有十分深远的教育和警醒意义。那些追求时尚、钟爱名牌、豪掷半年工资买一个名牌包的美女们；那些为求偶像一个签名而心甘情愿排数小时长队的追星族们；那些梦想一夜暴富而倾其所有的炒股迷们；那些所有、所有在迷恋着某种东西的人们，是否应该把文中的这些人作为自己的一面镜子，停下脚步，抓住一丝理智的光芒，照亮自己那因过分迷恋而变得茫然和晦暗的内心，在自我的所作所为中，追寻一下“意义”的痕迹。

在翻译的过程中，一面心中琢磨着久远的文字，一面脑海中闪现着当今社会的一幕幕。这大概就是经典的魅力吧：喻古讽今。而经典的丰富和深刻也绝非译者几句粗浅的解释可以涵盖。相信聪慧的读者在品读的过程中，定会发现另一番洞天。

流行在大都市里的荒唐语

啦！发兮咚呔——啦！发兮咚咚，

万岁！啦！发兮咚呔！

——贝朗热〔1〕

在大城市中，有一种诙谐无处不在。对于那些富有同情心和包容心的人，这种诙谐是他们永不枯竭的消遣源泉。这些人高贵而优雅，但他们从不会嘲笑酗酒技工的谦卑灵魂或古怪行为，不会对肮脏的乞丐和恶作剧的顽童嗤之以鼻，也不会对充满大都市大街小巷的游手好闲者、粗鲁莽撞者和人云亦云者趾高气昂。有一种人，他走过了大都市，却发现诸多让人悲泣之事。对于这种人，或许，每一个角落都足以让他们心如刀绞。但是，让这些人带着悲伤独自前行吧——我们绝不会和他结伴。这些人挖出人类的苦难，只是为了表达他们对这些苦难的悲伤，而这对于减轻人类的痛苦毫无益处。这些哭泣的哲学家用心中的悲伤毁掉了他们的视力，人也在眼泪中变得无能。对于那些他们为之痛哭不已的罪恶，他们束手无策。于是，人们发现不流泪的人才是真正的慈善家。他就像一个杰出的医师，无论所面对的病例如何糟糕，他总可以做到带着微笑去乐观面对。

苦难已被无数次地挖掘，罪恶已经历了群情激愤，乌合之众的愚蠢也已被无数次地口诛笔伐。所以，我们在这里的写作不再为之“锦上添花”，至少在这一章不会。我们目前的任务就是信步穿过大城市中的人群聚集地，在其中寻求普通大众的乐趣，并且在经过的时候，记下穷人那些无伤大雅的愚蠢行为和奇思怪想。

在此，我们首先要讲的是，无论我们走到哪里，我们总是会听到一个表达被城市中形形色色的人群反复使用。重复这个表达的人总是喜形于色，听到的人总是忍俊不禁。你看不管是那蓬头垢面、老茧满手的男人，欢快的屠夫，流浪的孩童，淫荡的女人，赶出租马车的车夫，抑或是在街头的角落里游手好闲的懒虫，所有的人无不如此。这个表达总是具有一触即发的威力，只要有人说起，听者无不捧腹大笑。这个措辞适用于任何一种环境，它是可以回答所有问题的万能答案；简而言之，它是时下最受人欢迎的具有俚语性质的表达。在它如昙花一现般短暂的流行季节里，这个表达给贫穷卑微者，给收入微薄者的生活投了一缕欢乐的亮光，加了一丝嬉戏的乐趣，从而让他们找到了和他们身居高位的同胞一样开怀大笑的理由。

伦敦尤其盛产这种表达。不知在什么地方，一夜之间不期而至；也不知以何种方式，几小时内妇孺皆知。多年以前，人们最爱的一个表达是“阔斯”（虽然只是个单音节词，但它本身足以算作一个表达方式）。这个奇怪的词语在群众中的受欢迎程度无与伦比，迅即便获得了近乎无限的含义。当平民百姓要表达不相信的态度，并且同时想博人一笑时，这个流行的俚语是绝对的不二词选。当一个人被要求施与恩惠，又不打算给予的时候，他总可以大喊一声：“阔斯！”在这一声大喊中，他对请求者极端鲁莽行为的态度表露无遗。当一个喜爱恶作剧的顽童想激怒路人并取悦他的密友的时候，他会直勾勾地盯着他的脸，然后脱口而出：“阔斯！”对于他所期望的效果，这个“阔斯”没有一次不灵验。当一个辩手要表达对对手论点的真实性的怀疑时，当他要尽快摆脱他无法推翻的论点时，他选择“阔斯”，带着口不择言的神态，噘起他轻蔑的嘴唇，耸起他不耐烦的肩膀。这个万能的单音节词传达了他所有的意图。他不仅告诉对手他知道他撒谎了，而且，如果他认为人们会愚蠢到去相信他的地步的话，他就不折不扣的错了。每个酒馆里都回响着“阔斯”，每个街角都喧嚣着“阔斯”，几英里范围内的墙壁上无不涂鸦着“阔斯”。

但是，像世间万物一样，“阔斯”虽盛，却也只能盛极一时。它来得迅猛，去得突然，而且，再也没有享受人们曾经给它的溺爱和崇拜。新来者把它赶跑了，毫无争辩地代替了它的统治地位；而这个新来者也注定在独领一段风骚之后，被它的继任者抛下万人瞩目的宝座。

下一个接踵而至的流行语是：“多么糟糕透顶的帽子啊！”这个表达一流行开来，就有成千上万只看似漫无目的，实则敏锐异常的眼睛四处搜寻戴着旧帽子的过客，不管他帽子露旧的痕迹是多么微乎其微。顷刻间，一呼百应，震耳欲聋的噪音极具印第安人的尖叫特色。如若发现自己身处众人关注的中心，最明智的做法莫过于以逆来顺受的方式来保持自己的尊严。如果对于投向自己帽子的责难表露出一点点的厌恶，那只能是加倍的自取其辱。这群乌合之众马上就会发现一个人是否易怒，而且，如果这个人和他们是一个阶层的，他们就会拿他取乐。在这个表达流行的日子里，如果这样的一个人，戴着这样的一顶帽子走过人群拥挤的邻近社区，如果他的烦恼仅限于这些乌合之众的大呼小叫，他应该意识到他已经很幸运了。然而，事实是这顶倒霉催的帽子经常会被人从他的头顶上一把抓下来，被肆无忌惮的恶作剧者扔到排水沟中，然后，再拿起来，带着淤泥挂到一根棍子上。他们以此来取悦那些旁观者。这些看客们乐得笑弯了腰，在欢笑的间隙大声喊着：“噢！多么糟糕透顶的帽子啊！”“多么糟糕透顶的帽子啊！”有多少可怜的人为此变得紧张兮兮！因此，只要他们的钱包还可以节约出这部分开支，必会在陷入这种窘境之前为自己买顶新帽子。

这个独特的说辞在连续几个月的时间内为伦敦带来了欢乐。然而，和“阔斯”以及其他出身不明的习语不同，它的来历明明白白。南华克区曾经有一场竞争激烈的竞选，竞选人之一是一名著名的帽商。这位绅士为了拉选票，利用职业之便，以巧妙的方式来赢得选民的好感。这种方式就是贿赂选民，却让他们浑然不觉。每当他去拜访或碰见一个选民，而这个选民的帽子不是最好的材料，或者，虽然是最好的材料却早已不再流行时，他总是会不失时机地说：“你戴的帽子多么的糟糕透顶啊！给我的商店打电话，你会得到一顶崭新的帽子！”在竞选当天，这个场景被对手所利用并重演。在这位尊敬的候选人对着选民讲话的时候，他的对手煽动群众不断地大声叫喊：“多么糟糕透顶的帽子啊！”这个习语从南华克区传遍整个伦敦，并一度成为顶尖级的流行俚语。

曾一度备受宠爱的“钩子行者”起源于一个流行民谣的副歌。像“阔斯”一样，它也曾是回答所有问题的万能答案。随着时间的推移，仅仅第二个词为人们所专爱，并且这个词的第一个字的发音被特别的拉长，第二个字的音节则急转直下。如果一个可爱的女仆被一个她所不喜欢的人强吻，她一准儿会翘起她的小鼻子，叫道：“行者。”如果一个清洁工问他的朋友借一先令，而他的朋友不能或不愿借给他，他得到的答复极有可能是：“行者！”如果一个醉鬼在街上踉跄而行时，一个小男孩会去拽他的衣服后摆，或者有人会把他的帽子敲到他的眼上取笑他，而无论是哪种玩笑，必会伴着一声“行者！”两到三个月后，“行者”走出了历史舞台，而且，再也没有重新成为那代人或后来人的消遣用语。

下一个流行习语是最荒谬可笑的。谁发明了它？它是如何流行起来的？人们又是在哪里第一次听到了它？所有的这一切都无从得知。有关它的事情，没有一件可以确定。但是，连续几个月，它一直是伦敦人心中首屈一指的流行语。从它身上，伦敦人获得了巨大的满足感。根据所指对象性别的不同，这句习语是：“她／他走时她／他的眼睛都出来了。”那段时间，这个习语在所有熟悉这个城市的人当中口口相传。事实是，这个无厘头的习语给粗俗之人带来了多少欢乐，就给清醒之人带来了多少困惑。智慧的人觉得它很愚蠢，而很多人觉得它很有趣。游手好闲者用粉笔把它写在墙上或者涂在纪念碑上以自娱自乐。但是，“所有的明亮都终将黯淡”，习语也毫不例外。人们终于厌倦了他们的嗜好，随之，“他走时眼睛都出来了”这句习语再也没有在它曾经盛极一时的流行地听到过。

紧随其后的习语很奇怪，流行空间也很有限。这个习语的形式是鲁莽而不得体的询问：“你妈把她的轧布机卖了吗？”然而，它的流行程度并不像以前的流行语那样给人带来喧闹的气氛和兴奋的心情，所以，它很快就失宠了。阻碍它流行程度和延续时间的原因是这个习语显然不能用在老人身上。自然而然，它的生涯匆匆结束，随即，被人们抛入遗忘的深渊。相比之下，它的继任者所享盛名要久得多。它的根基是那样的深厚，以至于无论岁月多么久远，时尚如何变迁都无法消除它的痕迹。这个习语是“烧起来啦！”直到今天，它仍是被广泛应用的口语表达。它源于改革暴动时期，那时，愤怒的人们把布里斯托尔烧了将近一半。据说火焰在这个完全陷入暴乱的城市里呼呼乱蹿。很难猜测这个习语的流行是因为它的几个词具有美妙的发音，还是因为包含了隽永的涵义。然而，无论原因是什么，事实是确定的，那就是它有力地刺激了大众的幻想，并在刺激中给了他们快感，并且把它之前的习语赶出了流行地带。走遍伦敦，人们听到的只有“烧起来啦！”它回答了所有的问题，解决了所有的争端，适用于所有人、所有事以及所有的场合。它突然间成为英语这个语言中最包罗万象的表达。一个人说话不得体，人们会说他“烧起来了”；一个人过分频繁地去杜松子酒馆，并因此堕落下去，人们也会说他“烧起来了”；让自己陷入深情无法自拔、在深夜出门寻欢、惊扰周围的人们并且制造骚乱，所有的这一切都是当事者“烧起来了”。恋人争吵时“烧起来了”，街上两个恶棍的斗殴也是用的这个表达。那些煽动革命和动乱的传教士让英国像法国一样烧了起来。人们是如此钟爱这个表达，以至于人们重复它就是为了它的声音。很显然，听到他们的器官发出这个声音就足以让他们感到欣欣然。当没有人倾听并回应他们的呼声时，东区的劳工会用这个著名的、常常让西区的贵族感到震惊的习语回应他们。甚至在万物沉寂的深夜，那些值夜班的和无法入睡的人们也总能听到这个声音。蹒跚回家的醉鬼在打嗝儿的间隙叫一声“烧起来了”，以此表明他还属于人类，还是个公民。酒醉让他丧失了整理其他思想的能力，他的智商降到了畜生的水平，但是，他的这声呼喊让他抓住了他和人类的最后一丝联系。他只要能够大声喊出这个声音，他就有权利做英国人，他就不会像狗一样睡在排水沟里。他大喊大叫着继续前行，惊扰了安静的街道，惊醒了熟睡的人们，直到筋疲力尽一头栽倒在路上。这时，很及时地，他把警察绊倒了，这位平安的捍卫者把灯光照到他脸上，随后惊呼一声：“这儿有一个可怜的家伙烧起来了！”然后，有人抬来担架，将这位酩酊大醉者送到哨所，扔进一个肮脏的小屋。在那儿，一群和他一样喝得大醉的倒霉鬼用一个大声的、拉长音的“烧起来啦！”来欢迎他们这个新同志。

这个习语是这样的万能且貌似经久不衰，以至于一位并不了解俚语易逝特性的投机者以此习语为名创办了一个新闻周刊。然而，就像把房屋建在沙地上的那个人一样，他的地基最终还是坍塌了。那个习语和他所创办的报纸一起被冲进了历史的大海。人们最终厌倦了这个单调的“烧起来啦”，这个说法甚至在他们当中也成为粗俗之语。渐渐地，只有不谙世事的小男孩喜欢它，然后，随着时间的流逝，最终被人们完全遗忘了。这个表达已经不是常用的习语，但仍旧用来指突发的火灾、骚乱或任何不幸之事。

下一个集万千宠爱的表达不太简洁，它起初的用途是指责早熟的年轻人。他们未成年，却又总是装出一副男子汉十足的气概来。“你妈知道你出来了吗？”是个让人发怒的质问。它用于质问那些吹牛离了谱的，在街上抽烟的，带着假胡子看起来不可一世的年轻人。我们很是见过一些逞能的家伙，只要有女士从他们面前经过，他们必定直勾勾地一直把人家看到惊慌失措；但是，只要对他们一说这句话，他们就立马原形毕露，卑微之极。穿着礼拜服的学徒和伙计对这个习语深恶痛绝，每每听到，必会一脸愤怒。总体而言，这个习语应用的效果是好的，它无数次地告诉那些浮夸的年轻人，他们并非像自己想象的那样优美、动人。然而，除了这个正面效果之外，这个表达所暗含的对对方自制能力的怀疑赋予了它挑衅的特性。一句“你妈知道你出来了吗？”的询问包含了假装的关心和担忧；言下之意便是这么年轻，对大城市这么没有经验的人竟然在没有父母的陪同下独自出来乱逛，实在令人遗憾和揪心。由此，那些即将成年又未成年的年轻人一旦成为被询问的对象，必会马上勃然大怒。甚至，年岁大一点的人也不喜欢这个习语。如果一个出租车车夫在不知道客人显赫身份的情况下，对一个公爵领地或勇士封号的继承人说了这句话，对方必会对这种公然的侮辱怒发冲冠，并一定会和这个胆大妄为的冒犯者对簿公堂。车夫解释说他本来是想跟这位老爷要双倍的钱，结果被拒，所以，他对之施以“你妈知道你出来了吗”的侮辱。迅即，在场的所有车夫都开始大呼小叫着“你妈知道你出来了吗”，然后，这位老爷只好在尽量不失尊严的前提下落荒而逃。公堂之上，车夫求情说他不知道他的客人是个老爷，然而，被冒犯的正义让他为自己的过错付出了代价。

这个习语气数用尽之后，像它的先辈们一样销声匿迹了。随后，“你是谁？”代替了它的统治地位。这个新宠，像蘑菇，一夜之间即可破土而出，迅猛成长；又像齐普赛街上的青蛙，随一阵急雨从天而降。前一天，它还没有被听说、被得知，甚至被发明；后一天，它就已经弥漫了整个伦敦。每一条小路都回响着它，每一条大路上都有它的余音萦绕，

街头巷尾，四处传诵

这不变的呼喊。

这个习语的说法很迅捷，第一个词和最后一个词的读音都以喷薄之势而出，中间一个词的读音轻如气息。像它所有可以被广泛应用的同仁一样，这个习语也可以用于几乎各种不同的场合。喜欢对平实的问题做出平实回答的人绝对不会喜欢它。傲慢无礼者用它去冒犯别人；无知者用它去遮掩自己的贫乏；恶作剧者用它来取笑。每一个进入酒吧间的新人都会被人毫不客气地问一句：“你是谁？”如果他呆头呆脑地抓耳挠腮，不知如何应答，人群里肯定会爆发一阵狂笑。面对这一问，再权威的辩论者也只能张口结舌，再无礼的傲慢也只能偃旗息鼓。在这个习语盛行之时，一个绅士感到有贼在掏他的衣兜，他突然转身，把那个人逮个现形，然后大呼一声：“你是谁？”周围的看客必定会随之欢呼，并且认为这是他们听到的最壮观的笑话了——堪称智慧的顶峰和幽默的精髓。另一个类似的场景给这个习语增添了额外的生机，在它即将淡出之时，为它注入了新的生命和活力。这一幕发生在大不列颠王国的刑事大法庭上。一个犯人在接受公开审问，被控告之罪已被证实，他的律师不是为他做无罪辩护，而是请求法庭从轻发落，理由是他以前是个品端行正的好人。“那么你的证人们呢？”尊敬的主持法官问道。这时，旁听席中传来一个粗鲁的声音：“求你了，长官！我认识这个受审的犯人，他是有史以来最诚实的人了。”一时间，法庭上的官员们惊得目瞪口呆，那些陌生人压抑不住地咯咯直笑。这时，法官突然抬起头，冷静而威严地说：“你是谁？”整个法庭都被震惊了，咯咯窃笑变成了捧腹大笑，几分钟后才重新恢复安静和秩序。引领员平静情绪之后，开始寻找那个胆敢亵渎法庭的家伙，但是却无果而终。没有人认识他，也没有人见过他。一段时间之后，法庭又恢复了正常的审讯。紧接着受审的罪犯对自己的前景十分乐观，因为他得知那张代表正义的、庄严的嘴巴竟然能说出这么草根的习语，简直就是证明他曾亲身体验，并且很欣赏这个说法。他由此推断，这样的一个法官绝对不会过分得严厉。他的心和劳苦大众在一起，他理解他们的语言和做事的方式，所以，对于他们受到诱惑而犯罪这件事，必然能够尽可能的体谅。从后来的事实判断，无数的罪犯都这么想，最后，这个博学的法官突然间受到了大众的极度欢迎，他的智慧被人们到处传颂。就这样，“你是谁？”获得了新生，又接着被大众宠爱了一段时间。

但是，如果你认为两个前后相继的习语之间是没有休止符的你方唱罢我登场的模式，那你就大错特错了。这些习语的兴起并非绵延不断的一条单线，而是在赢得大众青睐的途中，与歌曲平分秋色。情形如下：当人们沉浸在音乐之中时，习语再怎么高声呼喊，也只能是徒劳无益；而当人们心向习语时，音乐再甜美，他们也是充耳不闻。大约二十年前，整个伦敦回响着一首让所有人神魂颠倒的歌曲。男孩儿、女孩儿、年轻男人、老男人、少女、少妇再加寡妇，所有的人都步调一致地喜欢起了音乐。人们对于歌唱的狂热无与伦比，然而，糟糕的是，就像传奇小说《修道院》（The Monastery）中的好神父菲利普一样，他们的曲调绝对得一成不变。整个城里那些游手好闲的人整齐划一地唱着：“樱桃熟了！”“樱桃熟了！”每一个歌唱的声音都是那样的不协调，每一把小提琴的演奏都让人疯狂，每一个笛子的演奏都让人崩溃，每一个管乐的演奏都犹如病态的喘息，街道上所有的乐器都在演奏这同样的旋律。最后，那些努力勤学的人和偏爱安静的人不得不绝望地堵上耳朵，甚至，跑到数英里之外的田野里或树林里去寻找安静。这个瘟疫式无处不在又折磨人的歌曲存在了一年，直到樱桃这个词在这片土地上成为人们厌恶的对象。最终，激情消减了，钟爱的浪潮又朝着新的方向前进。下一个宠儿是一首歌还是一个俚语，现在确定还为时尚早，但是，可以肯定的是，马上，人们又开始对一个戏剧的主题开始痴迷，无论你走到哪儿，总能听到“汤姆和杰米”。仅仅以言语的形式来取悦大众的时间已经很久了，所以，在后来的消遣中，人们开始更加注重实际的行动。城里每一个青年的心中都充斥着要脱颖而出的强烈愿望，而实现这个愿望的方式真是多种多样。他们会选择打倒“查理一家”，整夜被关在拘留所里，在淫荡的女人中间起哄，或者和一群粗鄙的人同被关在圣吉斯大教堂的地穴里。那些小男孩模仿这些年轻人的行动，并且企图在类似的事情上和他们一比高低。这种情形一直持续到这个毫无价值的激情像其他的愚蠢行为一样，走到它生命的尽头。整个城市又开始沉醉于下一个流行时尚。紧接着，把拇指尖放到鼻子尖上，并且在空中迅速转动四个手指成为回答所有问题的方式。在粗俗之人中，这种方式被认为是顶级智慧的象征。如果一个人想侮辱或者激怒另外一个人，他只需使用这个神秘的具有象征意义的手势，即可达到目的。在每一个有人群聚集的街角，如果一个过路者觉得好奇要停下来观察他们的行动，两分钟之内，他必定可以看到其中有人把手指放到他们的鼻子上，以此来表示他们对这个观察者的怀疑、吃惊、拒绝，或者嘲笑。今天，人们仍能看到这个荒谬习俗的遗留痕迹，但是，不同的是，现在它被认为是低级的行为，甚至在粗俗人群中也不例外。

大约十六年之前，伦敦城又毫无道理地迷上了音乐。大众在高声赞扬“海洋，海洋！”的歌声里，喊哑了嗓子。如果一个不知情的陌生人（而且是个哲学家的陌生人）步行穿过伦敦时听到了这个在全城传唱的歌谣，他一定会建立一个有趣的理论，来阐述英国人对海的喜爱和我们众所周知的海洋霸权地位之间的关系。他可能会说，“毫无疑问，这个民族在海洋方面不可战胜。他们对海洋的热爱渗入了他们的日常思维：他们甚至在市场这种地方赞美海洋，他们的路边歌手通过歌颂海洋来祈求施舍；身份不分贵贱，年龄不分长幼，性别不分男女，所有的人都在歌颂‘啊！海洋！’”在这个热爱战争的民族歌谣里，爱情不是钟爱的主题——酒神巴斯（Bacchus）不是他们的神；他们的思维模式严厉而冷峻，他们只想着“海洋，海洋！”，以及征服海洋的方式。

如果耳朵是这个哲学家判断事物的唯一依据的话，毫无疑问，这些歌声会给他留下这样的印象。唉！那些日子里，那些真正懂得欣赏音乐的高雅的耳朵们啊！当不和谐的旋律演奏起这个让人震惊的圣歌，当成千上万个不同的曲调随声附和，他们在无处可逃的处境中忍受了多么巨大的折磨啊！萨伏伊的流浪歌手听到了这个旋律，开始在伦敦幽静的长街上大声歌唱，直到最深、最偏僻处的屋子里都回响着他的声音。那些优雅之人不得不忍受着魔鬼般的长嚎，这首歌持续了六个月之久。他们疲惫而绝望，甚至在陆地上开始有海里晕船的感觉。

几首其他歌曲在随后的不同时期相继盛行，但是，除了“都围着我的帽子”这首歌外，其他几首都没有获得特别的宠爱，直到一个美国男演员引入了一首名字叫作“黑人，杰姆·克劳”的低俗歌曲。歌手穿着很应景的服装，摆着奇怪的手势，而且每当歌曲结束的时候总会突然旋转他的身体。这种风格迅疾抓住了全城人的口味，结果，那些老人们的耳朵不得不连续几个月忍受这首毫无意义的歌谣所带来的惊吓：

转啊，摇啊，

就这么做吧——

转啊，摇啊，

跳吧，黑人，杰姆·克劳！

街头的流浪歌手为了增加歌曲的效果，涂黑了他们的脸庞；那些失去父亲的，不得不在偷盗和吟唱这两种谋生方式之间做出选择的流浪儿毫不犹豫地选择了后者，因为这个方式看起来似乎更能赚钱，当然，前提是公众的口味保持这个风格不变。在任何大街的夜市上，都可以看到这首歌的伴舞，把粗野笨拙演绎到了无以复加的地步；而这首歌的声音，刺透人流的喧嚣，高高飘在空中。在这首打油诗的流行时期，那个安静的旁观者，

坐在公路旁

身上布满夏日的灰尘，看着人流

匆忙地流动

众人犹如黄昏光线下的蠓虫儿

此时此刻的他，可能会像雪莱一样高呼：

成千上万的人在狂歌乱舞

如痴如醉

那个曾经自言自语英国人的国民性格，并且认为这个民族对海洋歌曲情有独钟的哲学理论家会对这种现象作何感想呢？如果再次造访伦敦，他一定会得出另一个貌似真实的理论来说明我们对废除奴隶制所做出的不懈努力。“仁慈的民众啊！”他一定会说，“你们的同情心是多么无限啊！你们不幸的非洲同胞们，他们只是在肤色上和你们不同，但对你们是多么友好啊。你们也毫不吝惜你们为他们贡献的两千万，你们想永远纪念他们。杰姆·克劳是那个受伤害民族的代表，也是你们这个民族的大众偶像！看他们如何赞扬他！——他们如何模仿他的特色！——他们如何在闲暇和放松的时刻重复他的名字！他们甚至把他的形象雕刻出来，用以装饰他们的壁炉！他的事业和他的苦难永远不会被忘记！噢，博爱的英格兰啊！——噢，文化的先锋！”

这些就是伦敦民众的特色，此时此刻，没有动乱、杀戮、谋杀、麻烦来打乱他们平静的思绪。这些就是普通民众的奇思怪想——这些毫无恶意的愚蠢行为无形中减轻了生存的压力。对于那些智者，虽然，他们会有点嘲笑这些愚蠢的言行，但是绝对不会毫无同情心。他们一定会说：“如果他们愿意，就让他们尽情享受那些俚语式的表达和歌谣吧；如果他们无法幸福，至少，让他们快乐吧。”对于英国人，就像对贝朗热歌中所唱到的法国人一样，在小小的一首歌中蕴含着一些安慰。我们和他一样，共同拥有：

那些忧郁的人们啊，

能够给予他们快乐的，

恰恰是这些没有意义的话语！

啊，他们渡过忧伤之河的渡口啊！

就在这些没有意义的表达里。

注释

〔1〕贝朗热（Pierre-Jean de Bèranger），法国抒情诗人。原文：La faridondaine-la faridondon, Vive la faridondaine! 法国民谣中的句子，没有实际含义，仅为凑足韵律。——译者注

南海泡沫危机

最后，腐败，犹如洪水，

铺天盖地、淹没一切，而，贪婪

于不知不觉中，蔓延、伸展，

像低空的雾，遮光蔽日。

政客和爱国者一起孜孜不倦地炒着股票，

贵妇和男仆在交易所里齐头并肩；

法官做着经纪人，主教侵吞民脂民膏，

位高权重的公爵耍尽手段，

却只为，蝇头小利：

整个不列颠陷入了利欲熏心的魔咒里。

——蒲　伯

南海公司由声望很高的牛津伯爵哈利（Harley, Earl of Oxford）创建于1711年，其目的是恢复辉格党下台以来一直境遇不佳的政府声誉，清偿国家流动债务中高达一千万英镑的海陆军的信用债券及其他债券。这个由商人创建的、在那个时候尚未命名的公司主动承担了政府的这些债务。政府保证在一个时期内向他们提供百分之六的年利率。按此利率计算，政府每年须向他们支付高达六十万的利息，为此，政府永久性免收他们所进口的葡萄酒、醋、印度商品、丝织品、烟草、鲸鱼鳍，以及其他一些商品的关税。同时，他们还获得了南海地区的贸易垄断权，从此，通过国会法案组建的这个公司就以“南海”闻名于世了。伯爵大人因为在事务办理中的贡献而赢得了很高的荣誉，而这项计划总是被那些阿谀奉承者称为“牛津伯爵的杰作”。

即便是在公司建立的早期，公司和公众就对南美西岸的巨大财富形成了极具梦幻色彩的想象。每个人都听说过秘鲁和墨西哥的金矿、银矿；每个人都认为那里的矿藏取之不尽；只要把英国的产品运到那里的海岸，当地居民就会拿上百倍的金锭、银锭来给予回报。有一则消息被人孜孜不倦地传播着：西班牙将让出智利和秘鲁海岸上的四个港口，以便为英国的船只提供交通便利。这则消息大大增强了公众对于南海公司的信心，连续好几年，它的股票炙手可热。

但是，西班牙的菲利普五世从来没有打算让英国在美洲的西班牙殖民地港口享受自由贸易。双方曾经着手谈判，但谈判的结果只是签订奴隶贸易特许条约。条约允许英国垄断美洲西班牙属殖民地的奴隶贸易三十年；同时，允许英国每年有一艘商船和墨西哥、西班牙及秘鲁进行贸易，商船的吨位和货物价值都有严格的限定。后一个条款的实现须满足一条刚性条件，那就是西班牙国王享有四分之一的利润，同时，对于剩下四分之三的利润收取百分之五的所得税。这个结果让牛津伯爵和他的政党大失所望，这让他们想起“大山临盆，老鼠出世”〔1〕的故事，现实和希望的巨大落差让他们心灰意冷。但是，公众对南海公司的信心并未动摇。牛津伯爵随后宣布，除合约中规定的每年一艘的船舶外，西班牙允许第一年再加两艘商船；同时，还印发了沿途海岸所有港口的名单，并且高调宣布这些港口统统对大不列颠开放贸易。实际上，合约中规定的每年一次的商船直到1717年才进行第一次航行，而第二年的航行就因为和西班牙交恶而取消了。

国王在1717年议会的开幕式演讲中很明显地暗示了让人担忧的政府信用状态，并且提议采取适当的措施来减少国债。南海公司和英国银行这两个金融巨头紧接着在5月20号就对议会提出了建议。南海公司保证他们换购国债的股本可以通过认购或其他方式由一千万增加到一千二百万；而且，他们同意将年利率由百分之六降到百分之五。英国银行给出的有利条件也相当诱人。众议院争论了一段时间之后，出台了三个法案，分别是《南海公司法案》、《英国银行法案》和《通用基金法案》。在第一个法案中，议会接受了南海公司的提议，而公司也准备好预付增加的两百万英镑以清偿安妮女王（Queen Anne）就任第九年和第十年所发行的四个奖券基金的本息。通过第二法案，英国银行同意降低政府欠它的1,775,027英镑15先令的利息；同意取消多达两百万英镑的国库券；同意政府按百分之五的利率，每年向他们支付十万英镑的年金。同时，在一年期内，这些债券可由政府赎回。除此之外，政府还要求他们在急需的情况下以百分之五的利率预付不超过两千五百万英镑的债券，债券可由议会赎回。《通用基金法案》列举了几点缺陷，这些缺陷由前述的资源来完善。

南海公司的名字就是这样不断地出现在公众的视野中。虽然，他们和南美国家的贸易几乎甚至可以说根本没有提高他们的年收入；但是，这并不妨碍它作为一个金融公司继续蓬勃发展。公众对于公司股票的需求空前高涨。董事们受这种胜利景象的鼓舞，甚至开始考虑扩大他们影响的新方式。约翰·劳（John Law）那个曾经让法国人神魂颠倒的密西西比计划给了他们灵感，他们认为在英国也可以玩同样的把戏。他们预料到约翰·劳必定失败的结局，却并没有因此而改变他们自己的计划。他们认为自己的计划足够聪明，可以避免约翰的错误，永远进行下去，把信用的弦拉到极限，而且这根弦绝不会突然崩断。

约翰·劳的计划获得了大众极度的欢迎，成千上万的人蜂拥到甘康普瓦大街上，用狂热亲手将自己毁灭。恰在此时，南海公司向议会提出他们著名的清偿国债的计划。在欧洲两个最著名的国家，人们想象着无尽的财富在他们迷醉的眼前漂来浮去。英国人的挥霍事业开始的要比法国人晚，但是这种狂热一旦抓住了他们，就注定其程度的不可超越。1720年1月22日，下议院转组为全院委员会来讨论国王在议会开幕式上涉及国债的演讲，以及南海公司有关偿还国债的提议。提议由几个董事制定，详细地阐述了有关国债的计划。根据提议，公司愿意以每年百分之五的利率承担30,981,712英镑的国债直到1727年。1727年之后，国债可由立法机构根据自己的意愿择时赎回，并且利率降到百分之四。这个提议很受欢迎；但是，英国银行在众议院中有很多的朋友，他们希望这个公司也可以在这些有可能产生的利益中分一杯羹。这些朋友代表这个公司，做了如下陈述：英国银行在国家处于危难时，曾作出了卓著的贡献，所以，如果这种性质的政府交易可以带来利益的话，他们至少应该比一个对国家无所作为的公司首先受到青睐。对于事态的进一步考虑因此推迟了五天。同时，银行的管理层起草了一份计划。因为害怕英国银行会给政府提供更优惠的条件，南海公司重新考虑了他们之前的提议，对它做了一些修改，并希望修改后的提议更容易让政府接受。一个重要的变化是，政府可以在四年后赎回债券，而非刚开始提出的七年。在这场非凡的竞拍中，银行也不甘服输，管理层又重新考虑了他们最初的提议并提交了更新版本。

这样，在每个公司提交了两份提议后，议院开始仔细考虑。罗伯特·沃波尔（Robert Walpole）是英国银行的主要拥护者，而财政大臣艾斯拉比（Aislabie）极力支持南海公司。2月2日，经讨论决定，后者的提议对国家更有利。南海公司的提议被通过了，同时，根据他们的提议，追加了相关法案。

交易所里热情高涨。公司的股票前一天还是一百三十英镑，今天已稳步升到三百英镑，然后在所追加法案的讨论期，以惊人的速度一路飙升。沃波尔先生是议院中唯一大胆持反对意见的政府官员。他以极其严肃和富有说服力的语言警告他们可能随之而来的犯罪。他说，这个计划纵容了“股票行业的危险操作，它让国家精英不再专心从事贸易和工业。它抛出了一个危险的诱饵，让毫无警戒心的人们用他们的劳动所得去换取想象中的财富，从而引诱他们走向毁灭。这个计划的主旨是无与伦比的罪恶。它通过唤起民众对财富的迷恋心理，以及根本没有足够的本金来保证的红利来人为地增加股票的面值”。他预言：如果计划成功了，公司董事将成为政府的主人，在王国形成全新的贵族统治，并控制立法机构。如果正如他所确信的那样，这个计划失败了，它将在全体民众中产生不满，并给整个国家带来伤害。这是所有人的一场幻梦。当厄运如期而至，人们终将如大梦初醒，不禁自问这一切是否是真的。他为这件事所费的口舌都是徒劳的。他被看成是虚伪的预言家，甚至被比喻成声音嘶哑难听的乌鸦，象征恶兆的嘎嘎叫声让人讨厌。而他的朋友却把他比作希腊神话中的凶事预言家卡珊德拉〔2〕：只有当不幸登门造访，在人们的家里和他们四目相对的时候，他们才会相信他的预言。虽然议院对他的一字一句都曾洗耳恭听，但是，当议员得知他要谈论南海公司的问题时，立即人去席空。

这个法案在下议院经历了两个月的讨论期。在此期间，公司董事和他们的朋友们，尤其是董事会主席，著名的约翰·布朗特（John Blunt）爵士都不遗余力地想方设法提升股票价格。有关英国和西班牙之间签订一系列协议的荒谬流言史无前例地四处流传：西班牙赋予英国它所有殖民地的自由贸易权，波托西一拉一巴兹丰富的银矿将被源源不断地运送到英国，直到英国的银矿和铁一样丰富。墨西哥的居民将为我们倾空他们的金矿，因为我们将为他们提供丰富的棉花和羊毛产品。和南太平洋各国做生意的这个商人公司将成为有史以来最富有的公司，而对于它的股票持有人来说，他们所投资的每一百英镑，每年都可以为他们带来几百甚至上千的利润。最后，股票的价格通过这种方式升到了近四百英镑，波动了一段时间之后，稳定在三百三十英镑，直到法案在众议院以一百七十二票赞成五十五票反对的比例通过。

法案在上议院以史无前例的速度通过了评审的各个阶段：4月4日第一次宣读，5日第二次宣读，6日交付委员会，7日第三次宣读并通过。

在上议院的讨论中，几位议员强烈反对这个计划，但是人们对他们的警告置若罔闻。一种对投机的狂热迷住了众多议员和普通民众的心。诺斯（North）勋爵和格雷（Grey）说，这个计划旨在劫贫济富，在性质上是不公平的，必然会导致致命的后果。沃顿（Wharton）公爵随后也发了言；但是，因为他只不过是口若悬河地二手兜售沃波尔在下议院提出的观点，他所得到的关注还不及诺斯勋爵和格雷得到的多。考珀（Cowper）伯爵也持同样的立场，他把这个法案比作围攻特洛伊时那匹举世闻名的马。就像那匹马一样，人们欢呼雀跃着以无比华丽的场面迎接它，但是，它所带来的却只有背叛和毁灭。桑德兰（Sunderland）伯爵努力回应所有的异议；问题一经提出，只有十七名议员持反对意见，八十三名完全赞成这个计划。就在这个计划在上议院通过的当天，它获得了皇室的同意，成为这个岛国的法律。

顷刻间，全民都成为了股票经纪人。股票交易所天天人满为患，康希尔也被数不清的马车挤得水泄不通。每个人都来购买股票。“每个傻瓜都梦想升级为流氓。”这是当时出版的一个民谣的歌词，在大街小巷里到处传唱：

明星和嘉德勋位获得者

混迹于乌合之众；

他们疯狂地买卖着股票，

还对犹太人和异族人的争吵

喜闻乐道。

最高贵的贵妇也闻风而来，

不辞辛苦，天天马车里奔忙，

或者忍痛割爱，把珠宝典当，

原来是为购得股票才这般疯狂。

社会各阶层在对赚钱近乎病态的渴望中备受煎熬。在南海公司内部，发财的欲望同样的不可遏制。一系列史上最令人眼花缭乱的阴谋诡计在南海公司一一出炉了。股市行情表被迅速地填满，一笔笔交易在不断地进行；与此同时，南海公司不择手段地哄抬这些股票的市场价格。

与众人的期望背道而驰，在法案获得皇室的同意后，南海公司的股票价格开始下跌。4月7日的报价是三百一十英镑，第二天就降到了两百九十英镑。董事们已经尝到他们计划的甜头了，所以，他们不可能坐视股票降到它真实的水平而无动于衷。顷刻间，他们的使者们开始奔忙。每一个希望计划成功的人都在他的周围召集一群听众，对他们详细讲述南美各海洋国的丰富宝藏。股票交易所里挤满了侧耳倾听的人们。一个谎言，仅仅是因为它以极度自信的方式被讲述出来，便对股票市场产生了立竿见影的影响。据说斯坦霍普（Stanhope）伯爵在法国已经收到了西班牙政府的提议，提议的内容是：为了扩张英国在南太平洋地区的贸易并保证其安全，西班牙政府愿意用直布罗陀海峡和马翁港来交换秘鲁海岸的一些地方。一年只能有一艘贸易船只到那些港口，并允许西班牙国王抽取利润的百分之二十五的日子一去不复返了。南海公司可以随心所欲地造船、租船，而且无需向任何外国君主交付任何比例的利润。“人们幻想着元宝在眼前飞舞”，股市一路攀升。4月12日，在上议院通过此法案的第五天，公司管理层以百分之三百的溢价发行了一百万新股，每股面值一百英镑，售价三百英镑。社会各阶层人士蜂拥而至，以至于第一次的股票认购数量就达二百多万原始股。对于每股面值为一百英镑的原始股，他们可以分五次付款，每次六十英镑。几天之内，股票又飙升到三百四十英镑，认购股票以两倍于认购价的价格售出。为了进一步提升股票的价格，董事常设会议于4月21日宣布，凡认购仲夏季节发行股票的股民，均可享受百分之十的红利。这些决议达到了预设的目的，随后，为进一步提高有钱人购买股票的欲望，公司管理层决定以百分之四百的溢价再发行一百万股。每一个阶层的人们对这笔资金是如此的热望，以至于以上述价格几小时内一百五十多万股就被认购一空。

同时，数不清的股份公司在各地纷纷成立。这些公司迅即获得了“泡沫”的称号，这是人类想象力在它所能及的范围内找到的最合适的词语了。公众总是对使用绰号情有独钟。没有哪个词能比“泡沫”更适合了。有些公司持续了一周，有些两周，然后就音信全无了；而其他的甚至连这个时间长度也持续不了。每天晚上都有新的计划，每天早上都有新的项目。对于利润的狂热追求，贵族的最高层丝毫不亚于康希尔最单调乏味的股票经纪人。威尔士的王子成了一个公司的管理者，并且，据说他通过投机买卖净赚四万英镑。布里奇沃特公爵开启了一个改善伦敦和威斯敏斯特的项目，尚多斯公爵开办了另一个项目。大约有一百个不同的项目，一个比一个夸张，一个比一个具有欺骗性。用官方的语言说，这些项目“由狡猾的流氓开办并推销，由贪婪而愚蠢的乌合之众追捧，最终的结果只是证明它们看起来正如它们那个粗俗的称谓所表示的那样——泡沫和欺骗”。据计算，在这些不正当的操作中，有一百五十万英镑被赚取和亏损；一群傻瓜变得一贫如洗，一群流氓变得腰缠万贯。

这些计划中有一些看起来似乎还是可行的。如果人们是在头脑没有发热的情况下进行这些计划，或许参与的各方都会有收益。但是，这些计划设立的目的仅仅是为了增加市场上的股票。这些公司的发起人运用第一次发迹的机会将股票一卖而空；然后，第二天，计划迅即结束。梅特兰（Maitland）在他的《伦敦史》（History of London）中很严肃地告诉我们，一个受到极大鼓励的计划实际上是要建立一个“用木屑做廉价木板”的公司。这无疑是一个笑话；但是，有足够的证据证明，许许多多的、一点都不合理的计划，昙花一现般消失了，并且在它们消失之前毁掉了成百上千的人。在众多的计划当中，有一个是生产永动轮的——资本金为一百万；另一个是“鼓励在英国喂马，改善教会或教堂的土地，修缮并重建牧师住所”。本来应该对后者感兴趣的牧师却对前者青睐有加。对于这个现象的解释只能是：这个计划是由曾经在英国很常见的一群热衷于猎狐的教区牧师设计的。这个公司的股票很快就被认购了。在所有开设的公司中，最荒谬的、最可笑的、最能将人们的极度疯狂暴露无遗的是一个由一位不知名的冒险者开办的，名为“进行获取暴利事业的公司，但没有人知道它是什么”。如果不是有许多目击者确实可靠的陈述，很难有人相信竟然会有人被这样的项目欺骗。这位大胆而成功地利用了公众易骗性的天才只是在他的创办计划书中说所需本金是五十万英镑；为此，他们发行五千股面值一百英镑的股票，每份股票的保证金是两英镑，每一个认购者在付保证金之后，每年每股可获得一百英镑的利润。这笔巨大的利润是如何获得的，那时，他没有屈尊告诉公众；但是他许诺说，一个月以后将披露所有的细节，并且要求补交未支付的九十八英镑。第二天一早九点钟，这位天才在康希尔开设了办公室。成群的人围在他的门口，下午三点打烊的时候，他发现有三千多股票被认购，而且保证金已付。这样，在五小时内，他赚了两千英镑。他对自己的冒险事业十分满意，并且，很明智地当天晚上就去了欧洲。从此，杳无音信。

斯威夫特（Swift）把股票交易所比作南太平洋里的一个海湾，他高呼道：

认购者成千上万地漂浮在这里

你推我挤

每个人都奋力划着漏船

他们来钓金子，结果却被淹死

一会儿，被深深地淹在下面，

一会儿，又冲上云霄，

他们来来回回，步履蹒跚，

几乎丧失了理智，就像醉鬼一样

同时，在加罗伟的悬崖峭壁上，安然地，

躺着一个以遇难船只为生的野蛮民族，

他们等待着，破漏的小船来临，

等待着，掠夺死难者的财物。

另一个成功的骗局是一种叫作“环球许可证”的东西。这些许可证只不过是方形的扑克牌，牌上有蜡质的印章，印章上刻有位于纽约交易所附近的环球酒馆的符号以及“帆布许可证”这几个文字。许可证的拥有者仅仅是享有未来某个时刻认购一个新的帆布工厂股票的权利。有关工厂的创办者，当时只知道是个很有钱的人；但是，后来这个人卷入了南海公司董事贪污和被罚的案件。就是这些许可证竟然在交易所售得六十基尼〔3〕。

人们陷在这些泡沫里四处奔忙，不分贵贱，无论男女。先生们走进酒馆和咖啡馆约见他们的股票经纪人；女士们为了同样的目的穿梭于各个帽子店和杂货商店。但是，实际上这些人并不是都相信他们认购股票的项目的可行性；他们的目的就是声明他们的股票可以通过股票经营的艺术增值，然后，再把这些股票以最快的速度卖给那些真正轻信的人；对于他们来说，这一个目的就足够了。股票交易所里的人群是如此混乱，以至于同一个泡沫公司的股票在同一时间，在交易所一端的售价比另一端要高百分之十。理智的人们悲悯而惊恐地看着人们这种非同寻常的迷恋。议会内外都曾有人清晰地预言迫在眉睫的毁灭。沃波尔先生一直没有停止他悲观的预言。他的担忧为少数几个还能理智思考的人所共有，而且，这份担忧深刻地影响了政府的决策。在6月11日议会休会之日，国王发布公告，宣布所有这些不合法公司都严重妨害了公众利益，所以，应对其提起公诉；同时，禁止任何股票经纪人从这些公司再买卖股票，否则罚款五百英镑。但是，那些无耻的投机者无视公告的颁布，一如既往地进行他们的罪恶活动，那些被蒙蔽的人们也依旧在推波助澜。7月12号，聚集在枢密院的上议院法官们发布了一条命令，命令拒绝所有专利和特许权的申请，并解散所有的泡沫公司。法官命令的副本包括了所有这些不法公司的名单。在人人都着迷股票的今天，这个命令也不是毫无趣味的：

1720年7月12日，在白厅会议室里，

与会的上议院大法官，及诸位阁下，提出。

与会的诸位阁下及上议院大法官对这些公司给公众带来的诸多麻烦进行了仔细的考量。这些公司为了不同的目的，以股份制的形式成立，为了让公众和他们并肩作战，他们向公众保证他们对专利和特许权的申请肯定能获得批准；国王的臣民们就是被这种虚假的保证所骗，而后和他们的金钱诀别。为了阻止这种欺骗行动，诸位阁下命令把提到的几份申请，以及申请之后商业局和国王的律师及副检察长的报告，一同放到他们面前进行讨论。经过深思熟虑，根据国王枢密院的建议，诸位阁下决定拒绝所有提到的申请，这些申请具体如下：

1．几个人的申请：以“大不列颠宏大渔业”的名义申请进行渔业贸易的专利特许证。

2．“英格兰皇家渔业公司的申请”：申请有利于进一步发展所谓渔业的权利的专利特许证。

3．乔治·詹姆斯的申请，代表他自己及其他涉猎渔业的不同名流：申请能够让他们组成公司，同时进行贸易的专利特许证。

4．几名商人及几名在那签署名字的人的申请：申请为了恢复并发展格陵兰岛及其他地方的鲸鱼业而成立公司。

5．约翰·兰伯特及其他几位到场签名的人士的申请，代表他们自己及其他为数不少的商人：申请为了发展格陵兰岛贸易，尤其发展戴维斯海峡的鲸鱼业，成立公司。

6．另外一个有关格陵兰贸易的申请。

7．几位商人、绅士和市民的申请：申请为购买用于出租或货运的轮船而成立公司。

8．塞缪尔·安特里姆和其他几人的申请：申请种植大麻和亚麻的专利特许证。

9．几位商人、轮船主、航海者，及帆布制造商的申请：申请成立公司的特许权，以便让他们能够以股份制的形式继续发展和提高上述制造业。

10．托马斯·柏一德、几百位商人、轮船主、航海者、编制商，及其他商业人员的申请：申请成立公司的特许权，特许他们为了生产帆布、优质荷兰亚麻布以及购地进行筹资。

11．对已故威廉国王和玛丽王后所批准的特权有兴趣的几位人士的申请：为了制造亚麻布和帆布，政府不得给予任何人——无论身份和地位——特许权，保证现在拥有特权的人的权利，而且还应再赋予他们棉以及棉丝制品的生产权。

12．几位市民、商人、伦敦经商者，以及英国股票的认购者和其他一些人的申请：为了避免在英国任何一个地方发生火灾，申请成立公司。

13．伦敦及大不列颠其他地方的几位对国王忠心耿耿的臣民的申请：为避免在英国国内因火灾而造成的损失，申请成立公司。

14．托马斯·伯吉斯，国王的臣民，代表他们自己以及其他认购一百二十万英镑基金的人们的申请：为了开展国王在他的德国领土上的贸易，以哈尔伯公司的名义申请成立公司。

15．一个木材经销商，爱德华·琼斯代表他自己及其他人的申请：申请为了从德国进口木材而组建公司。

16．几个伦敦商人的申请：为开展盐业，申请公司经营特许权。

17．兼做商人的伦敦麦克菲迪斯上尉，代表他自己以及几位商人、呢绒商、帽商、染布商的申请：申请公司经营特许权，以便让他们能够募集足够的钱买地，种植一种叫作茜草的植物，供染布商使用。

18．伦敦鼻烟制造商约瑟夫·加仑多的申请：为他所发明的如何在弗吉尼亚以及在国王的领土上，让弗吉尼亚烟草变得适合制成鼻烟的方法申请专利。

泡沫名单

在同一条法令中，下面的泡沫公司被宣布为非法并予以取缔：

1．瑞典铁进口公司。

2．为伦敦提供海运煤炭的公司。资本金：三百万。

3．在全英国新建以及重修房屋公司。资本金：三百万。

4．棉布制作公司。

5．发展并提高英国铝制品公司。

6．开发布兰科和萨尔·塔哥塔斯岛定居点的公司。

7．给迪尔镇提供淡水资源的公司。

8．进口弗兰德斯花边的公司。

9．改善大不列颠土地状况的公司。资本金：四百万。

10．鼓励在英国养马、改善教堂和教会土地质量、新建以及重修牧师住宅公司。

11．大不列颠钢铁制造公司。

12．改善弗林特郡土地状况公司。资本金：一百万。

13．购买土地用来建造房屋的公司。资本金：二百万。

14．毛发贸易公司。

15．在霍利岛建立盐制品公司。资本金：二百万。

16．房地产买卖，以及按揭贷款公司。

17．进行一项十分盈利的事业，但没人知道是什么的公司。

18．铺设伦敦街道公司。资本金：二百万。

19．为大不列颠任何一个地方提供葬礼的公司。

20．土地买卖及有息贷款公司。资本金：五百万。

21．大不列颠皇家渔业公司。资本金：一千万。

22．确保海员工资安全公司。

23．为需要帮助的人建立贷款办公室，并鼓励勤勉者的公司。资本金：二百万。

24．购买并改善可出租土地公司。资本金：四百万。

25．从大不列颠北部及美国进口沥青、柏油，及其他松脂制品的公司。

26．服饰、毡布及波形瓦贸易公司。

27．购买并改善埃塞克斯的一个庄园并获得其矿藏开采权的公司。

28．马匹保险公司。资本金：二百万。

29．出口羊毛制品，并进口铜、黄铜以及铁的公司。资本金：四百万。

30．建立一个宏伟的救治站的公司。资本金：三百万。

31．建立工厂，并购买铅矿的公司。资本金：二百万。

32．改进肥皂制造艺术公司。

33．有关在圣克鲁兹岛定居事业的公司。

34．在德比郡挖矿井，以及精炼铅矿的公司。

35．制作玻璃瓶子及其他玻璃制品的公司。

36．生产永动轮的公司。资本金：一百万。

37．改善花园公司。

38．保证并提高儿童的财富的公司。

39．在海关装货以及为商人协商贸易的公司。

40．在英格兰北部进行羊毛生产的公司。

41．从弗吉尼亚进口胡桃树的公司。

42．用线和棉花制作有曼彻斯特特色材料的公司。

43．制造具有雅法〔4〕和卡斯提尔〔5〕特色的肥皂的公司。

44．改善这个王国的钢铁制造业的公司。资本金：四百万。

45．进行花边、荷兰杜松子酒、麻纱，以及草坪等交易的公司。资本金：二百万。

46．负责这个王国生产的某些商品的交易和改善以及其他方面的公司。资本金：三百万。

47．为伦敦市场提供牲畜的公司。

48．制作穿衣镜、马车镜以及其他种类镜子的公司。资本金：二百万。

49．在康沃尔和德比郡加工锡矿和铅矿的公司。

50．生产油菜油的公司。

51．进口海狸皮的公司。资本金：二百万。

52．生产厚纸板和包装纸的公司。

53．进口在羊毛制造业中所需要的油及其他材料的公司。

54．改进丝织业并提高产量的公司。

55．以股票、养老金、记账以及其他的方式提供钱的公司。

56．以小额折扣，向寡妇及其他人发放养老金的公司。资本金：二百万。

57．改进麦芽酒公司。资本金：四百万。

58．建立宏伟的美国渔业公司。

59．购买并改善林肯郡沼泽地的公司。资本金：二百万。

60．改进大不列颠纸制造业的公司。

61．冒险借贷公司。

62．用热空气烘干麦芽的公司。

63．要在奥鲁诺克河上进行贸易的公司。

64．在科尔切斯特及大不列颠的其他地方，更有效地制作粗呢的公司。

65．购买松脂制品、提供粮食，并为工人发工资的公司。

66．雇佣贫穷的技工，为商人及其他人提供守卫的公司。

67．提高耕作质量，改善牲畜品种的公司。

68．另一个改善马种的公司。

69．又一个为马投保的公司。

70．开展大不列颠玉米贸易的公司。

71．为所有的佣人可能给男女主人带来的损失投保的公司。资本金：三百万。

72．建立房屋和议院，接收和抚养私生子的公司。资本金：二百万。

73．不用火，不用损失材料的粗糖漂白公司。

74．在大不列颠建立收费关卡和收费码头的公司。

75．盗窃和抢劫的保险公司。

76．从铅中提取银的公司。

77．制作瓷器和陶器的公司。资本金：一百万。

78．进口烟草，然后，再把它出口到瑞典和北欧的公司。资本金：四百万。

79．用煤矿井制铁的公司。

80．给伦敦和威斯敏斯特提供干草和稻草的公司。

81．在爱尔兰制作帆布和包装布的公司。

82．提起压舱物的公司。

83．购买并装配镇压海盗的船只的公司。

84．从威尔士进口木材的公司。资本金：二百万。

85．岩石盐制作公司。

86．把水银转换成可锻造的纯金属的公司。

除了这些泡沫公司外，天天都有大批新的公司涌现，政府的指责和理智者的嘲弄都丝毫不起作用。印刷所里满是对这些铺天盖地的蠢事的讽刺画，报纸上也都是极具讽刺意味的名言警句。有一个天才的扑克牌制造商发行了一套南海公司的扑克牌，这种扑克牌现在已经很少见了。每一张牌上除了通常的数字外，在一个角上，有一个小尺寸的泡沫公司的讽刺画，并且在讽刺画的下面配有相应的诗句。生产圆形和方形炮弹和子弹的帕扣机器公司完全颠覆了战争艺术，是著名的泡沫公司之一。它迎合公众口味的虚伪和做作言行在黑桃八这张牌上，做了如下总结：

稀世发明，毁灭了

国内的傻瓜，而不是国外的。

但是，我的朋友不要担心，

这个可恶的机器，

只有在这个机器上有股份的人才会受到伤害。

红心九是讽刺英国黄铜公司的漫画，并配有下面的警句：

那个鲁莽的傻瓜，想做金银交易，

却换来了英国的黄铜，

在交易所里，他的愚蠢会被证明，

用贵重的金属换来掺假的烂铜。

方块八用下面的打油诗庆祝殖民阿卡迪亚的公司：

有个愚蠢的富人想一掷千金，

挥霍之地选在北美；

让他去认购股票吧！

只有傻瓜才不会将他耻笑！

每副扑克牌以类似的方式揭露那些欺诈的计划，并嘲笑那些上当受骗的人。据计算，进行这些计划的总资金应超过三亿英镑。

但是，是应该回到那个吞没了成千上万个贪婪者和轻信者的财富的南太平洋海湾的时候了。5月29日，股价上升到五百英镑，三分之二的领取政府养老金的人把国债券换成了南海公司的股票。整个五月份，股价持续上升，28号的报价是五百五十英镑。四天之后，股价惊人一跃，从五百五十英镑飙升到八百九十英镑。此时此刻，公众普遍认为股价不会继续上升，所以，许多人利用这个机会卖出，以期实现他们的利润。坐在火车里陪国王去汉诺威的许多贵族及其他人也都急于卖出。6月3日在交易所里，卖家蜂拥而至，买家屈指可数。就这样，股价一下子从八百九十降到了六百四十。董事们震惊了，命令他们的代理人去购买。他们的努力成功了。傍晚时分，信心回升，股价又升到了七百五十英镑。以这个价格持续并小幅波动了几日后，公司于6月22日休市。

没有必要也没有兴趣去详细描述董事们用于提升股价的不同技巧。根据八月初的报价，股票的价格最终升高了十倍，阐明这一点便足以说明一切。泡沫涨到了极限，开始了破裂前的颤抖和摇晃。

许多领取政府年金的人表达了对董事们的不满，指责他们在股票认购的同时列示股份清单的做法。当公众得知董事长约翰·布朗特爵士已经全部卖出的时候，更大的不安发生了。整个八月，股价一直下跌，到9月2日，报价只有七百英镑。

情况变得十分令人担忧。虽然，实际上并不可能，但是，为了防止公众对他们的事业完全丧失信心，董事们于9月8日在泰勒商人大厅召开全公司参加的常规会议。上午9点钟，房间人满为患。齐普赛街上挤满了无法进入房间的人，人群里的激动情绪无法抑制。董事们和他们的朋友们群集在那里。副董事长，约翰·弗罗斯爵士被叫到了董事的位置。他向公众解释了他们开会的原因，宣读了董事会的几项决定，并陈述了他们的计划：他们要以现金形式收回可赎回及不可赎回基金，以及所有认购股票。秘书长克莱格斯作了简短的演讲，在演讲中他肯定了董事们的做法，并且强调说内部团结是完善计划最有效的方式。演讲结束时，他表达了对董事会的谢意。感谢他们睿智而有技巧的管理，并希望他们继续以这种方式管理公司以达到公司利益最大化。代表南海公司利益的亨格福德先生在下议院出尽了风头；人们认为他知道卖出股票的正确时机，是个不折不扣的赢家；因此，在今天这个场合，他不免夸夸其谈。他说他见过很多这种性质的团体的起落兴衰；但是，在他看来，没有任何一个团体能像南海公司那样，在那么短的时间内将事情做得那么完美。他们的所作所为超过了王室、教会和议会。他们把所有不同团体的利益统一起来；虽然没有做到完全消灭，但是他们平息了这个民族所有的人与人之间的矛盾和敌意。在他们的股票增长的过程中，有钱人的财富急剧增长；乡绅看到他们土地的价值在他们的手里双倍甚至三倍的增长。同时，他们的事业也让教堂受益匪浅，很多尊敬的牧师也通过这个计划得到了大笔财富。总之，他们让整个国家都富了起来；此外，他还说他希望这些人不要忘了同时也让自己富有起来。在此番演讲的后半部分，人群中发出不屑一顾的嘶嘶声，无疑是对这种过度赞扬的讽刺。但是，董事们和他们的朋友们，以及在这间屋子里的所有的赢利者都给予了热烈的掌声。波特兰公爵也随声附和，并且对于有些人不满意这个事实表达出极大的震惊。当然他通过投机赚了钱，这种情形简直就是重现了那个老掉牙的笑话：一个胖议员在酒足饭饱之后总是习惯把手放在自己的大肚子上，然后对天下竟然还有饥荒表示出极大的怀疑。

会上通过了几项决议，但是这些决议都对公众毫无影响。在同一天晚上，股票跌到了六百五十；翌日，跌到了五百四十。它的股票就这样一天天跌下去，直到四百。9月13日，国会议员布罗德里克先生写给米德尔顿大法官一封信，这封信后来在考克斯沃波尔出版社发表。信中，国会议员说：“有关为什么南海公司的董事们那么早就要承受破产的阴云的猜想各式各样。我可以肯定的是，只要是他们觉得有利可图的事，他们肯定会去做。他们对信用的过度使用超出了它的承受范围，最终，信用状况极度恶化，储备货币已难以支撑。最举足轻重的人退出了，保证了自己资金的安全；而那些被欺骗的头脑简单的大众却全都血本无归。这些人的思想被贪欲控制，他们希望金钱的小土丘可以变成高耸入云的大山。成千上万的家庭沦为赤贫。惊愕无法表达，愤怒难以名状。整个事情让人绝望透顶。我从来没有见过专门为转移打击而制定计划，所以，我不得不猜测下一步要做什么。”十天之后，股价持续下跌，他写道：“公司还没有作出决定，因为他们身处丛林之中，不知何去何从。通过最近来镇上的几位绅士，我观察到‘南海公司人’这个名字本身在各个国家已经为人们深恶痛绝。很多金匠已经被迫逃跑了，而且每天都继续有更多的人在逃跑。我怀疑他们当中是否有三分之一，不，四分之一的人能够经受得住这场灾难。从一开始，我对整个事态的判断建立在那个毫无疑问的格言基础之上，即，一千万现金（这个数字已经远远超过经济运行中的实际现金总额）难以支撑两千万的实体经济正常运转，否则，纸币的信用状况就会恶化。所以，无论何时，只要这一点变得不确定，无论原因如何，我们尊贵的国家机器必会摔得粉身碎骨。”

9月12日，在秘书长克莱格斯的恳求下，南海公司的董事们和银行的董事们举行了几次会议。据传，英国银行同意购买南海公司六百万债券，这一消息导致股票急升到六百七十；但是，在下午，人们得知这个消息并不靠谱；于是，股票又跌到了五百八十，第二天五百七十，然后渐渐跌到了四百。〔6〕

政府内阁对事态的发展极为震惊。人们诅咒出现在街头的每一个公司董事，以宣泄心中的愤怒，政府担心时刻都有爆发动乱的危险。特使被派到汉诺威急请国王返回。南海公司派人去请当时在乡间别墅休假的沃波尔先生，希望他利用自己在英国银行的董事中的影响力，劝说他们接受为南海公司发行一些债券的建议。

英国银行十分不情愿搅进南海公司这滩浑水，因为它害怕让自己陷入无法逃脱的灾难；因此，对于收到的所有提议，它明确表示了自己不情愿的态度；但是，全国上下一致呼吁它出手相救。所有的商界名人都被召来商议如何应对眼下的紧急情况。最后，由沃波尔先生草拟合同作为进一步协商的基础。至此，公众的惊慌才稍微有所平息。

第二天，也就是9月20日，南海公司在泰勒商人大厅召开股东大会，会议作出了几项决定。决定授权董事们与英国银行或其他人，就发行公司债券一事达成协议；或者，和银行达成他们认为合适的其他协议。一位叫普尔特尼的先生说，最让人震惊的就是笼罩人们的极度恐慌情绪。人们在惊慌和恐惧中来回奔走，他们的想象中充满了灾难，而这个灾难的形式和规模却无人知晓：

像夜晚，漆黑无边——

像怒火，熊熊燃烧——

像地狱，让人毛骨悚然。

两天后，英国银行举行了股东大会。会上，董事长通知了有关南海公司事件的几次会议的内容，并且指出，董事们还未就此事达成一致意见。会上提出一项决议，并获得一致通过。决议授权董事们可以与南海公司达成协议，为其发行债券。发行的数量、条件和时间由银行董事们自行掌握。

这样，双方都得以按照他们认为对公众最有利的方式行事。为恢复政府信誉，英国银行以百分之十五的定金、百分之三的保险费和百分之五的利息认购三百万英镑南海公司债券。一大早，人们带着钱急切地赶到广场上，人数之多让人认为债券会被一抢而空。但是，中午前，形势逆转。尽管为防止股票继续下跌做出了所有的努力，但是，南海公司的股票还是急剧下降。他们的债券已没有任何信誉。一些有名的金匠和银行家担心以南海公司股票的形式贷出的巨大款项无法变现，现在不得不关门避债，溜之大吉。南海公司的主要承兑商剑锋公司也停止付款。此举被看作是不幸的开端。银行也挤满了兑现的人群，行动之迅速远远快于它上午发售债券时收钱的速度。因为接下来的一天是休息日（9月29日），银行才有稍作喘息的机会。英伦银行勇敢地面对风暴，但是，他们的前对手南海公司，却被这场暴风雨摧毁了。他们的股票降到了一百五十；而且，渐渐的，几经波动之后，降到了一百三十五。

银行发现他们无法恢复公众的信念，也无法阻止毁灭的潮流；所以，为了避免和他们意欲救助的对象一起被彻底毁灭的风险，他们拒绝实施他们本已开始介入的协议。他们没有任何义务，因为，所谓的银行合同只不过是草拟的协议而已。协议中的几项重要细节尚未确定，而且，协议条款中没有针对银行退出行为的惩罚项。议会历史这样形容当时的情形：“就这样，在八个月的时间内，人们目睹了这个高大建筑物的崛起、兴建和倒塌。它由一根上足发条的神秘弹簧带到令人炫目的高空，它吸引了整个欧洲的眼球和期待；但是，它的地基建立在欺骗、幻觉、轻信和痴迷之上，这就决定了董事们的阴谋诡计一旦暴露，整座建筑必定顷刻坍塌。”

在南海计划如日中天的时候，在这个危险的欺骗进行的过程中，全国上下礼义廉耻顿失。议会着手调查行为不轨者，以揭露恶行的真相；而这，无论是对于犯罪者的道德标准，还是对于滋生恶行的人的智力水平，都是一种侮辱。探讨恶果是一项很有趣的研究。就像人一样，一个国家如果成为了孤注一掷的赌徒，它必会受到惩罚，惩罚的到来只不过是或迟或早的事而已。一位享有盛名的作家斯莫利特说：“这是一个不讨历史学家喜欢的年代。这些交易的细节不能给那些多情而充满想象的读者任何激情或兴趣；因为，这些交易里没有温暖、没有色彩，也没有装饰。这些细节所展示的无非是一幅充满没滋没味的恶行和卑鄙低劣的堕落的单调画卷。”然而，他说错了，事实恰恰相反。如果斯莫利特曾经身临其境的话，他一定会发现这一点——这个主题对于人们兴趣的激发甚至能够满足小说家的渴望。在被掠夺的人的绝望里，难道没有温暖吗？在由成千上万个因此变得赤贫，并被毁灭的家庭的苦难绘就的画卷里，没有生机和活力吗？昨日膏粱，今日乞丐；昨日位高权重，今日流浪街头；每一个角落里都回响着自责和诅咒之声。所有的这一切都毫无生机可言吗？一个民族突然间全体摆脱了理智的束缚，向着一个金灿灿的前景狂奔，并且固执地拒绝承认这个前景是不存在的；直到，就像一只追逐鬼火的小鹿一样，陷入沼泽地，无法自拔。这个场景很枯燥，很没有教育意义吗？然而，历史就是在这种错误思想的指导下写就的。历史学家绞尽脑汁、极尽巧言之能事，一遍遍描述不称职的朝臣使用伎俩获得更不称职的国王的欢心；或者，不厌其烦地重复战斗围攻的场面；而那些真正深刻影响人们的道德行为和生活福祉的事情，却被他们忽略了。这些事情只被当作枯燥无趣，没有任何温暖和色彩的材料搁置脑后了。

在这个举世闻名的泡沫经济进程中，英国呈现出了一幅非同寻常的景象。公众的头脑处于病态的高涨状态。人们不再满足于通过脚踏实地的辛勤劳动去获得稳定的利益。对于明天无尽财富的希望让今天的他们变得这样没头没脑的疯狂。伴随前所未闻的奢华而来的是道德的放纵。那些由赌博获胜而一夜暴富的文盲摆出一副不可一世的样子。这让那些无论思想还是举止都极具绅士风度的人感到很羞耻，因为他突然意识到黄金竟然可以让身份卑微、品性恶劣之人骤然变得貌似尊贵。理查德·斯蒂尔爵士称这群人为“精打细算的平民”。他们的傲慢在霉运来临之时成为对自己不利的因素。在议会调查的过程中，董事们往往因其傲慢而非侵吞公款，受到惩罚。在这些愚蠢之极的富人当中，有一个曾经以不可一世的傲慢神情说他要拿金子喂他的马，结果却沦落到了只能拿水和面包喂自己的地步。每一个傲慢的表情和每一番盛气凌人的言谈都被毫不留情地压制下去，还之以百倍的贫穷和侮辱。

全国的事态让人惊恐不已。乔治一世不得不提前结束了在汉诺威的访问，匆匆赶回英国。他11月11日到达，议会于12月8日召开。同时，公众集会在全国所有的重要城镇召开。会议通过了人们请立法机构惩罚南海公司董事的请求，原因是这些董事用欺诈行为将整个国家带到了毁灭的边缘。没有人会想到国家本身和南海公司的罪责其实相同；没有人去指责大众的轻信和贪婪——这个让人堕落的获取欲吞噬了国民性格中所有的高贵品质；也没有人去指责大众的痴迷，这种痴迷情绪让他们义无反顾地、疯狂而急切地一头扎进诡计多端的谋划者为他们准备好的网。这些因素从未被人提起。所有的故事只是，民众是淳朴的、朴实的、勤勉的；他们被一伙强盗毁灭了；所以，这伙强盗要毫不留情地被绞死、被开膛破肚、被车裂。

这种感觉几乎笼罩了全国上上下下所有的人。议会两院并没有作出比公众更理智的判断。在南海公司董事的罪责明确之前，惩罚是唯一能够听得到的呐喊。国王登上御座发表庄重的演讲，他希望找到走出苦难的出路并马上付诸实施；而做到这一点，必须要谨慎小心、冷静沉着并且坚决果断。在回应国王讲话的辩论中，几位发言人对设计南海计划的董事们极尽辱骂之能事。莫尔斯沃思勋爵的言辞尤其激烈，“有人说没有法律来惩罚那些制造国家灾难的南海公司的董事。在他看来，在这件事情的处理上，他们应该效法古罗马。在古罗马，没有惩罚弑父杀母罪的法律，因为立法者不相信会有把罪恶之手伸向父亲的血管的不孝之子。当这个罪行出现的时候，他们立即制定了相关法律来惩罚这种滔天罪行。他们把这个十恶不赦的罪恶之子放在扎紧口的麻袋里，然后，把他活活扔进台伯河。他认为罪恶的南海计划的策划者和执行者就是国家的杀父仇人，他必要亲眼看到他们以同样的方式被装进麻袋，扔进泰晤士河，方解心头之恨。其他人员的讲话一样没有节制且缺乏考虑。沃波尔先生的讲话要理智得多。他建议说当务之急是恢复政府信誉：“如果伦敦着火了，所有的聪明人肯定都是先急着救火，以防止火苗蔓延，然后再去找纵火犯。政府信誉已经被刺得遍体鳞伤，鲜血淋漓，所以，人们应该尽快地给予治疗。惩罚刺客的事情稍后进行，时间完全来得及。”12月9日，就回应国王演讲的请愿陈词，人们达成了一致意见。陈词中特别补充并强调了如下内容：众议院不仅要寻求治愈国家灾难的良方，更要惩罚始作俑者。

调查进展迅速。众议院勒令董事们详细交代他们计划进程的每一个细节，最终，达成了一致意见并作出决定，即，灾难的产生源于股票经纪人卑鄙下流的手段，制定法律来阻止这种龊龊行为的再次发生是恢复政府信誉的最佳途径。这时，沃波尔先生起身说，正像他先前暗示的那样，他花了一些时间来研究恢复政府信誉的计划，但是这个计划的成功实施必须以一个条件作为基础。他认为，在他公布计划之前，他还是要首先确定他是否有这个可以依赖的基础条件。这个条件就是：在当前情况下，原来和南海公司签署的国债申购单、不动产申购单、货币申购单以及其他相关合约是否仍旧具有法律效力？这个问题引起了激烈的讨论。最后，以二百五十九比一百一十七的比例通过决议——这些合同仍旧有效，只有在以解脱持有者为目的的情况下，可以由南海公司董事会更改，或者通过法定程序撤销。第二天，沃波尔先生就向众议院展示了他恢复政府信誉的计划。他的计划的本质就是在一定的条件下把南海公司九百万的股票转给英伦银行，把同样数目的股票转给东印度公司。这个计划得到了众议院的一致赞成。几乎毫无异议，众议院要求两大公司对此事做出回应并拿出具体计划。它们都不愿伸出援助之手，在以商讨此事为目的召集的董事会上，援助计划遭遇了比较激烈的反对，但是反对无效。他们最终同意了发行南海公司债券的计划。他们的报告一经呈现给委员会，相应法案立即成立；在沃波尔先生的监督下，法案在议会两院顺利通过。

同时，委员会还提交了一项法案。法案禁止南海公司的董事、董事长、副董事长、财政主管、出纳员以及所有职员在12个月内离开英国；另外，法案还规定查明他们的房产和财产以防他们将其转移或转让。众议院最有影响的议员均支持本项法案。希彭先生相信克莱格斯部长和南海公司事件有染的传闻；所以，当他看到克莱格斯部长先生在他的座位上的时候，就决定要触其要害。他说他很高兴看到大不列颠众议院又恢复了往日的精神和元气，又可以全体一心一意地为公众福祉服务了。限制南海公司董事和官员并收押财产是必要的，“但是，”他补充道，“身居高位的其他人和南海公司的董事们一样罪孽深重，而他会在合适的时候直言不讳地指出这个人的名字。”克莱格斯先生怒不可遏，他站起来说如果这种冷嘲热讽之语是针对他而言，他将给质问他的人以满意的答复，无论是在议院内还是议院外。恢复秩序的呼声顿时从每一个角落响起。在这阵喧嚣声中，莫尔斯沃思站了起来并表示他很惊讶于克莱格斯竟然有如此胆量来挑战整个众议院。年过六十的莫尔斯沃思确实有点老了，但是，在议会内他仍旧会回应克莱格斯先生，不管需要他说的是什么；而在议会外，他相信有足够多的年轻人会和他站在一边，毫无畏惧地直视克莱格斯先生。恢复秩序的声音又从四周响起，所有议员同时站起，似乎所有的人都同时在大呼小叫。试图恢复秩序的人只能在那里徒劳地呼喊。混乱持续了几分钟；在此期间，几乎只有莫尔斯沃思爵士和克莱格斯先生坐在自己的位置上。最后，针对克莱格斯先生的呼声变得异常激烈，这使他不得不意识到顺应众议院的普遍民意才是比较明智的选择；所以，他随后解释了自己不合时宜的表达。他解释道，他所说的让众议院中怀疑他行为的人满意，不是指他要和人打架，而是说他要解释他的行为。这件事情到此结束。众议院继续商议他们应该以什么样的方式对南海公司事件进行调查：是常设委员会还是特别委员会。最后，由十三人组成的特别委员会成立，拥有传送人员、文件和记录的权力。

上下两院的议员们都激愤难平、心如刀绞。罗切斯特主教说这项计划就像一场瘟疫。沃顿公爵说众议院无需再去考虑尊重当事人的问题。如果是他，即便是最好的朋友参与了此项计划，他也会毫不留情地把他抛弃。整个国家都陷入了羞愧难当、恶名昭著的状态，如果他可以像人一样做事，他对犯罪者的惩罚必定像其他人一样，绝不姑息。斯坦霍普勋爵说，罪犯拥有的每一分钱都应该充公以弥补公众的损失，无论这个人是否是董事。

在此期间，公众情绪一直处于高涨状态。我们从考克斯的沃波尔得知南海公司董事这个名字已经成为欺骗和罪恶的代名词。来自全国各县、城、镇的请愿书纷至沓来，无不呼吁还受伤的民族以正义，给挪用公款的罪犯以惩罚。那些在惩罚罪犯方面态度中立而不愿走极端的人被控告为同谋。在无尽的侮辱和恶意的谩骂中，这些人被匿名信或公开信控告，成为这个受伤的民族急速复仇的牺牲品。控告财政大臣艾斯拉比先生以及财政部另一官员克莱格斯先生的呼声如此强烈，以至于上议院决定立即着手对他们进行调查。1月21日，政府命令所有和南海公司计划有关的经纪人须将他们自1719年米迦勒节以来为财政部官员买卖、认购或托管的股票记录悉数呈给众议院。根据上交记录，大量的股票被转到艾斯拉比先生名下。包括著名历史学家〔7〕的祖父爱德华·吉本先生在内的五位南海公司董事被上院的黑杖侍卫拘留看管。经斯坦霍普伯爵示意，及全体一致同意，议会作出如下决定：在增加或减少股票面值时，凡没有实际支付与受益价值相等的利润的行为；南海公司的董事或经纪人，凡在南海公司法案在议会尚未通过期间，为政府官员或国会议员购买股票的行为，均被认为是情节严重、影响恶劣的腐败行为。几天后，通过了另一项决议，内容是几名公司董事或官员秘密地将他们的股票贩卖给公司，犯下了欺骗罪和失信罪。他们的行为导致了整个事态转向不利于政府信誉的方向。艾斯拉比先生辞去财政大臣的职位，直到立法机关正式调查他的个人罪行，他才再次在议会露面。

同时，知晓公司不轨董事所有危险秘密的公司财务主管奈特把所有的书籍和文件打包后逃离了英国。他乔装打扮上了河上的一只小船，前往专门雇佣的一艘大船，之后安全抵达法国加来。保密委员会通知了众议院这个情况，众人当即决定应该给国王递交两个申请：第一个申请希望国王发表声明，悬赏缉拿奈特；第二个申请是国王须立即下令封锁所有港口，并依法监管所有海岸，以防奈特之流或其他南海公司官员逃出英国。申请上的字迹尚未干透，就由众议院专门委派的梅修恩先生送到了国王手里。当天晚上国王即发布了皇家声明，悬赏二千英镑缉拿奈特。众议院议员命令紧锁众议院大门并把钥匙放在桌子上。保密委员会的成员之一罗斯将军告诉大家说他们已经发现了一系列只有恶魔能想到的、用来毁灭一个国家的、最为罪孽深重的邪恶和欺骗行为。在适当的时候，他们会将之公布给众议院。同时，为了进一步发现真相，保密委员会认为很有必要拘留南海公司的一些董事和重要官员并查封他们的资料。此示意一经提出，便得到全体同意并立即执行。众议院议员罗伯特·卓别林爵士、希欧多尔·詹森爵士、索布里奇先生、弗·艾尔斯先生和南海公司的董事们被传唤到位，并要求对他们的腐败行为作出解释。希欧多尔·詹森爵士和索布里奇先生在被传唤时，努力为自己辩解。众议院耐心倾听他们的解释，然后命令他们退出。随即，一项提议提出并马上获得全体一致通过。提议内容为：他们犯有尽人皆知的违反信托罪，这一罪行让国王的许多臣民们损失惨重，让政府信誉蒙羞。因为他们的罪行，众议院随即下达命令，将他们驱逐出众议院并由武装士兵关押。四天后，罗伯特·卓别林爵士和艾尔斯先生在出席议会时，同样被驱逐出众议院。同时，众议院决定请求国王给驻外大使下令，命令他们如果发现奈特逃往他们所在的国家，一定要将他交给英国政府。国王立即同意，当夜，使节们就被派往了欧洲大陆的各个国家。

在被关押的董事当中有约翰·布朗特爵士，人们普遍认为是他一手设计并实施了南海计划。蒲伯在写给巴瑟斯特的勋爵艾伦的信中说，此人自称是个伟大的信徒，行动上也极其符合宗教规范，但实际上却是个不折不扣的异教徒。他总是猛烈抨击这个时代的奢华和腐败、议会的偏袒不公和党派的软弱。在贬斥身份显赫的贵族的贪婪时，他的抨击尤其猛烈。起初，他只是个抄写员，后来不仅成了南海公司的董事，而且成为公司最活跃的管理人。他是否是在这个职位上开始抨击权贵们的贪婪，我们不得而知。可以肯定的是，他所看到的贪婪行为足以证实他这些最严厉的诅咒绝对不失公允。但是，如果这位布道者本人没有犯下他所控诉的那些罪行的话，他的高谈阔论或许会取得更好的效果。在关押期间，他被带到上议院的法庭，并经历了长时间的审查。在此期间，他拒绝回答几个重要的问题。他说他已经被众议院调查过了，并且已经不记得他的回答内容了，为了避免自相矛盾，他拒绝在另一个法庭上回答同样的问题。此番言论即是犯罪的间接证明，在上议院引起了一阵喧闹。当上议院又一次以强硬的态度问及他是否曾将部分股票卖给政府或议会两院的议员以加速法案的通过时，他再次拒绝回答。他说，他对上议院诚惶诚恐，但是，让他指控自己，他很难做到。几番让他恢复记忆的尝试失败后，议会命令他撤席。随后，内阁的支持者和反对者之间进行了一场激烈的讨论。有人声称，政府对约翰·布朗特爵士这种得心应手的沉默早已见怪不怪。沃顿公爵把矛头指向了斯坦霍普伯爵，这令后者异常气愤。伯爵说话时情绪高涨，这种过分激烈的情绪导致他大脑充血。他感觉十分糟糕，不得不离开议院大厅到他自己的房间内休息。人们立即使用吸杯为他放血，第二天早晨继续放血，但是收效甚微。人们对这个致命的结果始料未及。傍晚时分，他开始昏迷，然后就仰面朝天，与世长辞了。这位政治家的突然死亡让全国上下陷入极大的悲痛之中。乔治一世极为伤感，他把自己关在房间里，为失去这位伟大的人物伤心不已。

公司的财务主管奈特在列日附近的蒂利蒙，被居住在布鲁塞尔的英国人里斯先生的一个秘书抓捕，随后被关在安特卫普城堡内。英国政府多次向奥地利政府申请将他押送回国，但都没有成功。奈特将自己置于布拉班特领地的保护之下，并要求在此地受审。《皇家条目》（Joyeuse Entrée〔8〕）的条款授予布拉班特领地的特权规定：在此地逮捕的罪犯应该就地审判。领地坚持他们的特权并拒绝把奈特交给英国政府。英国政府不停地诉求。在此期间，奈特从城堡逃跑了。

2月16日，保密委员会向众议院递交了他们的第一份调查报告。在报告中，他们表示他们的调查遇到了很多的困难和挫折。他们所努力调查的每一个人都尽自己最大努力不让法官达到目的。在他们调查的一些账目中，虚假账目被伪造；而在另外一些账目中，有款项，却无股票持有者姓名。在一些账目中有很多擦除和修改的痕迹；在另一些中，有的页面被撕掉。他们还发现一些重要的账目已经被悉数销毁，一些被撕掉或隐藏。在调查之初，他们发现交给他们的事情范围广大，种类繁多。在执行法律的过程中，许多人被分配了不同的任务。在处理成千上万的人高达上百万甚至上千万的财产时，他们不得不借法律之名，以并不合法的方式进行。他们发现在南海法案通过之前，南海公司账面价值1,259,325法郎已经贬为以股票计价的市场价值574,500法郎。经调查，这些股票均为蓄意伪造，其操作目的是为了加速法案的通过。根据标记，这些股票在不同时间，以溢价百分之一百五到百分之三百二十五的价格售出。这么一大笔交易发生在授权公司增股之前，这让委员会十分震惊；因此，他们决定要十分仔细地考察整个交易过程。董事长、副董事长和几位董事都被带到委员会面前加以严格审问。他们发现，这些账目被制作的时候，公司并没有相当数量的股票，他们所拥有的只是最多不超过三万英镑的一小笔资金。在进一步调查的过程中，他们发现，这些股票被公司伪装成的购买商购买，同时，股票交易中没有任何形式的双方协议、现金支付、保证金或证券。他们的如意算盘是，如果法案没有通过，股票如预期的那样下跌，公司自然不用承担任何损失。相反，如果股价上升（计划成功后，事实确实如此），由股价上升带来的利润必然使他们收益。按照这个思路，在法案通过之后，根据奈特的指示，公司设立并调整了股票账户。那些假定的购买者由于股价的上升，从南海公司得到了收益。这些伪造的股票主要由约翰·布朗特爵士、吉本先生和奈特先生处理；他们以行贿的方式，将这些股票赠送给政府的几名官员及其亲属，以求加速法案的通过。在这些股票中，桑德兰伯爵得到50,000英镑，肯德尔公爵夫人得到10,000英镑，普拉滕伯爵夫人得到10,000英镑，她的两个侄子得到10,000英镑，克莱格斯秘书长得到30,000英镑，查尔斯·斯坦霍普先生（财政部秘书之一）得到10,000英镑，剑锋公司得到50,000英镑。在调查的过程中，他们还发现斯坦霍普先生从特纳卡斯沃尔公司收到了250,000英镑的股票差价收益，但是，他的名字被从账簿上删除，后改为斯坦盖普。财政大臣艾斯拉比获利的方式更加让人厌恶。他在特纳卡斯沃尔公司开立了一个高达794,451英镑的股票账户。此外，他还建议公司在没有任何担保的情况下，自行将第二批新股认购金额由一百万英镑提高到一百五十万英镑。第三次发行的方式尤其可耻。艾斯拉比名下70,000英镑，克莱格斯先生名下659,000英镑，桑德兰伯爵160,000英镑，斯坦霍普先生47,000英镑。这个报告完成之后，又有六个其他不太重要的报告。在最后一个报告的末尾，委员会宣布因为没有找到在此案中负有重要责任的奈特，他们的调查无法再继续。

委员会命令，在第三天将第一份报告印刷出来并进行讨论。经过愤怒而激烈的讨论，达成了一系列协议，协议谴责董事、议会成员及与之相关的行政官员的行为。通过协议，委员会宣布这些人中的每一个都应该用他们自己的财产去弥补他们给公众造成的损失和伤害。他们的所作所为被定性为腐败、无耻和危险的行为。为了解除不幸者的痛苦，委员会命令引入一项法案。

查尔斯·斯坦霍普参与了这些交易并第一个受到了质问。在他的自我辩解中，他强调，在过去的几年里，他把他所拥有的所有钱都寄存到了奈特先生那里，所以，无论奈特先生为他买了多少股票，他已经提前付清了所需的款项。至于特纳卡斯沃尔公司为他所买的股票，他本人一无所知，这件事情中所做的一切都未经过他的授权，所以，他不可能为其负责。特纳公司承担了第二件事情的责任。但是，每一个怀着公正之心的人都知晓这不光彩的事实：斯坦霍普先生得到了250,000英镑，并且，以他的名义放在南海公司的账户上。但是，最后以超过三票的微弱优势，他被无罪释放了。友人不遗余力地袒护他，切斯特菲尔德伯爵的儿子，斯坦霍普勋爵在态度摇摆的议员之间游说。他用自己的三寸不烂之舌劝说他们投票释放他或者不出席议会。许多优柔寡断的乡绅被他说服并改变了主意，由此产生了上述结果。无罪释放斯坦霍普的消息在全国引起了极大的不满。气势汹汹的大众聚集在伦敦各处。人们对于发生暴乱的恐惧与日俱增。当许多人认为，对于一个更大的罪犯的审讯很可能会是类似斯坦霍普的结局时，这种担心就更加严重了。即便当地的规则不健全，身居高位、肩负重任的艾斯拉比先生本应以诚实为本；但是，他却被认为是不折不扣的最大的罪犯。释放斯坦霍普先生的第二天，对他的案件的调查正式开始。众议院的大厅里和通道上挤满了人，人人都迫不及待地想知道调查的结果。辩论持续了整整一天。艾斯拉比几乎找不到支持者。他的罪过昭然若揭，而且让人深恶痛绝，没有人有勇气和他站到一边。最后议会达成一致意见：艾斯拉比先生为了获得非法利益，怂恿并推进了损害国家和公众利益的南海公司计划的执行；在这些损人利己的实践中，他和南海公司的董事们同流合污，损害了国家的贸易和声誉；因为他所犯下的无耻罪行，他被逐出众议院，收监伦敦塔，并被严密监视；一年之内或直到下次议会召开，他不得出国；他应该清算他所有的财产，用以解救那些因为他的恶行而惨遭损失的人。

这个裁决让人欢欣雀跃。虽然消息在半夜十二点半公布，却迅即传遍了全城。几家人张灯结彩以示他们的欢乐。第二天，当艾斯拉比先生被送到伦敦塔的时候，大众聚集在塔山上，准备向他大呼大叫并投掷石块。结果，他们的这个愿望没有实现，于是，他们就点起了一大堆篝火，围着它在无法言说的欢乐里狂舞。几堆篝火在其他的地方也点了起来。伦敦呈现出一派节日景象，全城人共同庆祝，宛如刚刚逃离了一场巨大的灾难。释放斯坦霍普的决定让人们怒不可遏，如果对艾斯拉比先生的裁决也是类似的纵容，很难想象这愤怒将会发展到何种程度。

为了让公众更加满意，任职于特纳卡斯沃尔公司的乔治·卡斯沃尔爵士也被驱逐出议会，囚禁伦敦塔并要求退还250,000英镑。

下一步审查的是保密委员会的报告中和桑德兰伯爵有关的部分。为了使他尊贵的身份免受罪责的损害，他的同党做了不遗余力的努力。当不利于他的事实主要来源于约翰·布朗特爵士的口供时，他们费尽心机制造假象，让人觉得约翰爵士的话并不可信，尤其是当这些话指向身居高位的枢密顾问时。众所周知，如果对他作出有罪的判决，那么权力就会落到托利党手中；因此，内阁中所有的朋友都聚集在他的周围，极力保护他的安全。最终，他以二百三十三票赞成，一百七十二票反对的结果被释放；但是，整个国家对于他的罪行深信不疑。愤怒席卷了每一个角落，气势汹汹的大众又一次聚集在伦敦。所幸，这一次没有暴乱发生。

这一天克莱格斯命丧黄泉。第二天本应是他受审的日子。人们普遍认为他是服毒自尽。但让他痛苦不堪，备受折磨的似乎是五周之前他在财政部任职的儿子死于天花的事实。为了这个宝贝儿子，他聚集了大量的财富。他不停地赚钱，但方式却不正当。为了儿子的利益，他不惜牺牲他的荣誉和名声；然而，儿子却不复存在了。对于事实真相进一步被揭露的恐惧加剧了他内心的苦痛，最终，他在中风痉挛中一命呜呼。他留下了一百五十万英镑的财产。这些财产被充公，用以安抚那些因为他曾不遗余力地创造的那个幻境而惨遭损失的人们。

公司董事一个接一个受到了审查。从他们的财产中共拿出二百一十四万英镑充公以弥补他们所造成的伤害。同时，根据每个人的行为和处境，法律允许每个人保留一部分财产以便他们洗心革面，重新做人。在约翰·布朗特爵士多达183,000英镑的财产中，允许他保留5,000英镑；约翰·菲罗斯爵士的总财产为243,000英镑，允许保留10,000英镑；希欧多尔·詹森爵士的总财产为243,000英镑，允许保留50,000英镑；爱德华·吉本先生的总财产为106,000英镑，允许保留10,000英镑；约翰·兰伯特爵士的总财产为72,000英镑，允许保留5,000英镑。对于其他在本案中参与不多的人的处理方式更加宽松。历史学家吉本的祖父爱德华·吉本先生受到了严重的处罚。这位历史学家在他的回忆录和写作中绘声绘色地描述了当时议会的进程。他坦言他并不是一个没有偏见的目击者；但是，凡是对当时灾难之年的进程有所描述的作家都不可避免地对这些受审者带有偏见，而他们的偏见和吉本的观点正好针锋相对；所以，这位历史学家的描述具有特殊的价值。仅仅根据听取双方证词的原则，他的观点是应当被考虑的。他说：“在1716年，我的祖父被选为南海公司的董事之一。他的记录表明在他接受这个致命的职位之前，他已经获得了60,000英镑的财产。但是，他的财产在1720年的海难中被淹没。三十年的劳动所得在一天内化为乌有。对于他们是利用还是滥用了南海公司计划的分辨，对于我祖父及他的董事同仁们是罪过或是清白的判断，我既不是一个万能的法官也做不到毫无偏袒，但是，现代的公正必须谴责那些充满暴力和武断的审判程序。这些程序足以让正义的事业蒙羞，让不公正的行为更加面目可憎。整个民族刚刚从它的黄金梦中醒来，全体民众，甚至议会就开始为他们的愤怒寻找出气筒。但是，所有的人都承认，无论董事们的罪过有多大，他们都未触及这个国家的现有法律。莫尔斯沃思勋爵处罚当事人的理念十分偏激，议会并没有按照他的理念行事；但是，一个刑罚法案被制定——这是一条追溯法令，用以惩罚在犯罪之时尚未存在的罪行。立法机关拘禁了各位董事，认为他们的出现不利于治安，给他们的人格加上了与生俱来的耻辱的烙印。他们被迫宣誓交出他们所有的财产，并且禁止转让或过户他们财产中的任何部分。每一个公民都有在法庭上通过他的律师申诉的权利，但是，这个刑罚法案显然违反了这一条。他们请求申诉，但是，他们的请求被拒绝了。他们的压迫者不需要证据，当然也不需要辩护。最初有人提议诸位董事可以保留各自财产的八分之一以支撑他们将来的生活。但是，有人坚决主张，由于每个人的富有程度和犯罪程度的不同，这个比例对于许多人来说过轻，而对于一些人来说则又过重。所以，每一个人的情况和行为应该单独考量。但是，三十三个英国人的财产和荣誉并没有在法庭上得到冷静而严肃的审判；相反，他们成为草率谈话的主题，成为当时大部分人无法无天行为的娱乐对象。委员会最不道德的人用恶言相向或弃权票来发泄他们心中的公愤或私怨。侮辱加重了伤害，讽刺让受辱者更加痛苦。平均每人二十英镑的津贴被莫名其妙地取消了。有一个捕风捉影的消息说一个董事以前参与过另一个项目，这个项目让一群不知名的人丢掉了他们的钱，而这则消息竟成为给他定罪的实证。一个人惨遭灭顶之灾只是因为他愚蠢而狂放地说他要让他的马以金子为食；另一个遭殃的人，则是因为某一天，生性高傲的他在财政部拒绝礼貌地回答一个地位远远高于他的人的问话。没有出席法庭，没有经过申诉，然后就被谴责，被武断地处以罚金，充公财产，所有相关人都难逃此劫。他们绝大部分的财富就这样被一扫而空。这样无耻而大胆的压迫几乎得不到万能的议会的庇护。我的祖父和他的同伴一样，没有受到任何礼遇。他所秉承的托利党的理念和周围托利党的人脉关系已经让统治者对他厌恶至极。他的名字在一个疑点颇多的秘密报告中出现。他尽人皆知的能力不能成为他不知情或犯错的借口。在最初对南海公司董事的诉讼中，吉本先生成为第一个被拘禁的人。在最终宣判时，对他的罚金数额表明了他的罪大恶极。他承诺，除去继承的祖产外，他交付给众议院的总金额高达106,543英镑5先令6便士。议会许诺给他15,000英镑或10,000英镑作为生活补贴；但是，经过考虑，议会一致决定给他数额较小的津贴。在这种糟糕的情景中，我的祖父，以偌大的年龄，以议会不能从他那里夺走的技巧和信誉，建起了一座新的财富大厦。十六年的辛苦付出终于有了回报。所以，我有理由相信，第二个财富大厦不会比第一个低级。”

完成对董事的处罚之后，立法机构下一步考虑的就是如何恢复政府信誉。事实证明，沃波尔的计划收效甚微，而且声誉不佳。在1720年年底，人们清算了南海公司的股金总额。结果发现，南海公司的股金总额为三千七百八十万英镑；而其中为股东所持有的仅为二千四百五十万英镑。剩下的一千三百三十万英镑为公司以法人形式所有，这一部分是他们利用全民痴迷所赚取的利润。从这一笔钱中抽出了八百多万英镑，以一百英镑获利三十三英镑六先令八便士的年息分给了股东和认购者。这极大地缓解了当时的形势。同时，议会进一步下达命令，规定那些从南海公司以股票的形式借钱，同时又将这些钱转给公司或抵押给公司，为公司所用的人，只要付出所借总额的百分之十，就可以免于其他的要求。当股价飞升之时，南海公司以这种方式借出了一千一百万；现在，当股价降到了正常水平，他们收回了一百一十万。

但是，政府信誉在很久以后才得以恢复。就像伊卡洛斯〔9〕一样，人们的信心飞升得太高，融化了他蜡质的翅膀；然后，像伊卡洛斯那样跌进了海里；在海浪中挣扎的时候，他意识到他真正的位置是在坚实的地上。从此，他再也不敢尝试飞那么高了。

自此之后，在商业繁荣的伟大时代，又差点发生几次过度投机的事件。一个计划的成功往往会产生其他几个类似的计划。在一个充满商业交易的国度里，民众的模仿性能总是能够抓住这些成功的典范，然后，把利益的狂热追求者拉进万劫不复的深渊。1825年的泡沫公司，就像南海公司所产生的那些泡沫公司一样，在这个恐慌之年昙花一现后就消失了。这个事件和1720年的事件如出一辙：欺诈之行从贪婪之心那里收获了巨大的利益；但是，当最后的审判日来临之时，双方的损失一样惨重。1836年的计划曾经差点引起灭顶之灾；但是，灾难被及时避免了。〔10〕

注　释

〔1〕伊索寓言中的故事：大山有临盆的征兆，结果最后只跑出一只老鼠来。形容期望很高，而结果却十分令人失望。——译者注

〔2〕卡珊德拉（Cassandra）是希腊神话中特洛伊（Troy）的公主，别名为亚历珊德拉（Alexandra）。神话中突出的形象是一名遭诅咒的女先知，预言能力百发百中，然而无人听信。——译者注

〔3〕英国旧时金币，约合63英镑。——译者注

〔4〕雅法（Joppa）：以色列中西部的古城。——译者注

〔5〕卡斯提尔（Castile）：古代西班牙北部一王国。——译者注

〔6〕在那个灾难之年，诗人盖伊（约翰·盖伊，1685—1732，英国诗人及剧作家。——译者注）从年轻的克莱格斯那里收到一些南海公司的股票作为礼物。他立刻想象自己可以拥有两万英镑。他的朋友们劝他卖掉自己的股份，但是他梦想着荣华富贵，无法忍受自己的财路就此阻断。后来，人们又强烈建议他卖掉一部分，至少可以保证他在有生之年，每年可以有一百英镑用来支配。芬顿给他的分析说：“最起码，这可以保证你每天有洁净的衬衣穿，有一个羊肩可以享用。”这个建议被拒绝了，结果血本无归。在这场灾难中，盖伊一蹶不振，甚至到了生命垂危的地步。——约翰逊的《诗人的生活》。

〔7〕指近代英国杰出的历史学家爱德华·吉本（Edward Gibbon, 1737—1794），著有影响深远的史学名著《罗马帝国衰之史》，18世纪欧洲启蒙时代史学的卓越代表。——译者注

〔8〕原文为Foyeuse，为误写。——译者注

〔9〕伊卡洛斯（Icarus）是希腊神话中代达罗斯的儿子，与代达罗斯使用蜡和羽毛造的翼逃离克里特岛时，他因飞得太高，双翼上的蜡遭太阳融化跌落水中丧生，被埋葬在一个海岛上。——译者注

〔10〕直到1845年，南海公司计划一直是英国历史上全民迷恋商业赌博的最典型事例。本系列书籍第一版在铁路大狂热发生之前及之后一年出版。

郁金香狂热

噢！我的同胞们啊！

你们为何这般疯狂！

——卢坎〔1〕

据说郁金香这个花名来源于土耳其语，词形暗合“穆斯林的头巾”一词，意指其花和该头巾的形似。十六世纪中期这个词被引入西欧。在让郁金香享有盛名这件事上，康拉德·格斯纳绝对功不可没。但是，他做梦也没有想到这小小的花将让整个世界陷入极度的混乱。他首次见到郁金香是在1559年，在奥格斯堡的一个花园里。花园的主人是博学的赫尔瓦特参赞，当时，此人是收藏稀有外来植物的名人。花的鳞茎由君士坦丁堡的一位朋友送给这位绅士。在当地，这种花一直是人们的最爱。在此后十到十一年的时间里，郁金香为富有者所青睐，尤其是在荷兰和德国。阿姆斯特丹的富人派人直接到君士坦丁堡去买鳞茎，并且愿意为之付出天价。在英国种植的第一批根茎于1600年从维也纳运来。自此直到1634年，郁金香的名声与日俱增；甚至，如果一个人有钱，却没有郁金香，他就会被归入品味低下一类。许多有识之士，比如，庞贝·德·安格里斯和《论坚定不移》的著名作者——莱登的利普修斯——都对郁金香情有独钟。拥有郁金香的狂热迅速席卷了整个中产阶级，而那些财产并不是很丰富的商人和商店老板也开始竞相拥有郁金香中的珍品，并互相炫耀他们为之付出的离奇价格。据传，哈勒姆的一个商人花费了他一半的财产来购买一个郁金香的根茎，而其目的并非为了卖掉赚钱，只是为了放在自家温室里让朋友们观赏。

有人可能会想，在精明如荷兰人的眼睛里，可以变得如此珍贵的花必定有非同寻常的美。然而，它既没有玫瑰的美艳，也不具有它的芬芳——甚至和“小小的甜豌豆”相比，它也稍显逊色。同时，在花朵的持久性上，它亦无法和前两者相比。然而，事实却是考利为郁金香大唱颂歌。他说：

紧接着，郁金香出现了，鲜艳欲滴，

闪烁着高傲的光芒，淫荡二字绝对与她无关；

这里有世上最美的颜色；

而且，通过新的组合，她还可以呈现新的面孔；

紫色和金色织就的华贵衣衫，

是她的最爱，

她唯一的目的就是悦人之目，

和，艳压群芳。

这听起来并不那么具有诗意，却是诗人的描述。贝克曼在他的《发明史》中，以更加忠实的态度，用比考利的诗歌更加让人舒服的散文形式，对郁金香进行了描述。他说：

几乎没有植物像郁金香那样，因为偶然，羸弱，或者疾病，而获得那么多的色彩。在人工培植之前的自然状态，它只有一种颜色，有大大的叶子和超乎寻常的长茎。当人工培植将它弱化之后，它反而在种花人的眼中变得更加赏心悦目了。花瓣比以前黯淡了，小了；但是，颜色更加丰富了；叶子的绿色也较之以前更加浅淡。人类文明的这件杰作就是这样：体质越羸弱，容颜越漂亮；以至于最后弱到无论用什么高超的技艺或周全的照料，它几乎不能被成功移植，甚至被成功养活。

就这样，神不知鬼不觉的，许多人开始迷恋于这个给他们带来很多麻烦的东西，就像母亲总是偏爱体弱多病的孩子一样。我们只能用同样的原则来解释这些脆弱的花朵并不应受到的，而人类却过分慷慨给予的赞颂。1634年，拥有郁金香的狂热在整个荷兰肆虐，以至于国家正常的工业被忽略。全体人民，甚至包括最底层的民众都开始从事郁金香贸易。随着狂热的升级，价格也一路飙升。到1635年，众所周知，许多人投资10万弗罗林〔2〕购买四十个根茎，然后，再以重量为单位出售，而重量单位是比一粒谷物的重量还要小的派瑞特〔3〕。一种叫丽芙·肯恩将军的郁金香重400派瑞特，价值4,400弗罗林；一种叫婉·得·爱克将军的郁金香重446派瑞特，价值1,260弗罗林；一棵贵公子重106派瑞特，价值1,615弗罗林；一棵黑蝴蝶重400派瑞特，价值3,000弗罗林。在所有的品种中，最珍贵的当属永远的奥古斯都；它重200派瑞特，5,500弗罗林的身价也会被认为已经是贱卖了。这个品种的追求者如此众多，以至于一棵质量下等的根茎要价也要高达2,000弗罗林。据传，在1636年，整个荷兰只有两棵这样的根茎；而且，其质量并非上乘。一棵在阿姆斯特丹的一个商人手里，另一棵在哈勒姆。投机商人要获得这两棵根茎的心情是如此急切，以至于一个人为哈勒姆的郁金香足足花费了十二英亩建筑用地的价钱。而阿姆斯特丹的那根换得4,600弗罗林及一辆新马车，两匹灰色的马和一整套马具。马丁是那个时代很勤勉的一个作家，他就郁金香热写过一本长达一千多页的书。下面是他保留的不同物品的单子，以及它们的价值；而这些东西的交付只为换得名叫黑蝴蝶的一个稀有品种的根茎：

弗罗林

两拉小麦

448

四拉黑麦

558

四只肥牛

558

八只胖猪

240

十二只胖绵羊

120

两大桶葡萄酒

70

四大桶啤酒

32

两吨黄油

192

四只肥牛

558

一千磅奶酪

120

一套床

100

一个银质的酒杯

60

2,500

那些当时不在荷兰，而又恰在这个荒唐之事最盛行时返回荷兰的人们，往往因为不知情而让自己陷入尴尬的窘境。在布兰维尔的游记中，就记录了这样一件趣事。有一个十分富有的商人，甚是以自己稀有的郁金香为豪。有一次，他收到从利凡特发来的一批很珍贵的货物。货物到达的消息由一个水手通知他，通知的地点是在他堆满了各式各样货物的账房里。这位商人为了表达对水手传达消息的谢意，十分慷慨地准备了一顿红鲱鱼的早餐赠与他。这个水手似乎很喜欢吃洋葱，并且在这个慷慨商人的柜台上发现了一个类似洋葱的根茎；然后，他很想当然地认为把洋葱放在丝绸和天鹅绒中间是一件很不合适的事情。他开玩笑的地抓住一个时机，把这个类似洋葱的东西偷偷放到了他的兜里，并且把它作了他的鲱鱼的调味品。他带着他的奖品很快离开了商人家，走到码头上去吃他的早餐。他刚一转身，那个商人就丢失了他宝贵的，价值3,000弗罗林，或者说280英镑的，名为永远的奥古斯都的郁金香根茎。顿时，全家陷入了一片混乱。大家到处寻找这个价格不菲的根，但是无果而终。商人的痛苦无法言语。第二次的搜索仍旧以失败告终。最后有人想到了那个水手。

这个伤心满怀的商人一听到这个建议，一下子就跳到了街上。被他吓坏了的家人紧随其后。那个头脑单纯的水手啊！他根本没想到把他的“洋葱”的最后一块藏起来。他几乎做梦都不曾想过，他所吃的这顿早餐的价值足够一艘船上的全体船员吃十个月；或者，正如这位被抢劫的商人自己所描述的一样，“足以十分奢侈地招待奥伦治的王子和所有总督府衙的人员。”安东尼把珍珠融化到酒里，为克利欧佩特拉的健康干杯；理查德·惠廷顿为了取悦亨利五世国王，也做了同样愚蠢而又奢华之事；当伊丽莎白女王开办皇家交易所的时候，托马斯·格雷欣爵士把钻石融在酒里，以表达对女王健康的祝福。但是，这位淘气的荷兰小伙子的早餐和上述两种一样豪华；不仅如此，他的早餐还有一处是他的不知节俭的前辈所不能及的，那就是：他们的宝石既不能改善酒的美味，也无益于他们的酒的品质；而他的郁金香配上他的红鲱鱼却是十分的美味。他的故事中最不幸的部分就是商人控告他犯了重罪，最终使他在监狱中被囚禁了几个月。

另一个故事为一个英国旅行者的亲历，这个故事的滑稽之处丝毫不逊色于水手的奇遇。这位绅士是位业余的植物学家，他凑巧在一个荷兰富人的家里看到一棵郁金香根躺在他的温室里。因为不知道这到底是什么，他取出他的小刀，把它的皮剥下来，然后，想用它来做实验。当这样一层一层地剥到只有它原来的一半大小的时候，他把它分成了同等的两半，然后，对于这个他所不认识的、有着奇特外观的球茎发表了前所未有的学术评论。突然，主人怒火中烧地扑向了他，问他是否知道他已经做了什么。“削了一个十分奇怪的洋葱”，这位哲学家回答道。“见鬼去吧！”这位荷兰人说道，“这是婉·得·爱克将军。”“谢谢你，”这位旅行者回答，然后，拿出他的笔记本，在上面按照荷兰人所讲记下了这个名字，“这些‘将军’在你们国家普遍吗？”“见鬼去吧，”这位荷兰人抓住这位震惊不已的科学家的领子诅咒说，“跟我去见官！会让你知道的。”无论这位旅行者如何抗议，他还是被这位绅士连拉带扯地走过了街道，身后跟着一群乌合之众。等来到官员的面前，他才吃惊的得知，他所做实验的那个根茎价值四千弗罗林。无论他如何请求对他从轻发落，最后，还是不得不锒铛入狱。直到他为付这笔资金找到担保，才得以获释。

对于郁金香稀有品种的需求迅速增长。到1636年，销售郁金香的常规市场在很多地方的股票交易所设立；这些地方包括阿姆斯特丹、鹿特丹、哈勒姆、莱顿、阿尔克玛、荷恩以及其他城镇。至此，种种迹象表明郁金香交易已经具备了赌博的特征。尽管有人警告股票经纪人对于新的投资要谨慎，他们还是做了大量的郁金香的交易。在交易中，他们用尽一切所能想到的办法，让价格起起落落。和所有的赌博一样，在郁金香狂热中，人们最初都是信心高涨，而且每个人都可以盈利。郁金香交易的经纪人在郁金香股市的涨跌中投机。他们通过在价跌时买进，在价高时卖出的方式获得了巨额利润。许多人一夜之间暴富。一个充满诱惑的金色诱饵在人们的眼前摇来晃去。一个接一个，他们冲向了郁金香交易市场，就像冲向蜜锅的一群苍蝇一样。在每个人的想象中，对郁金香的狂热追求不会停止，而且，全世界每一个角落的人都会到荷兰，都会为了郁金香倾其所有。欧洲的妇人将会聚集在须德海的岸边，贫穷在荷兰这块福地上将不复存在。贵族、市民、农夫、机械工、水手、步兵、女仆，甚至扫烟囱的工人和做衣服的妇女都开始做郁金香的生意。各个阶层的人们都把他们的财产换成现金，然后把它投在这些花的交易里。房屋和土地以毁灭性的低价出售，或者在郁金香交易中直接转让给相应商人。许多外国人同样被这种狂热所征服。钱从四面八方涌向荷兰。生活必需品的价格逐步升高：房屋和土地、马匹和马车，以及各种奢侈品的价格都在攀升。连续几个月的时间，荷兰就像是财神爷的接待室。交易变得如此广泛而复杂，以至于有人觉得很有必要起草一份法规来引导这些交易者。政府委派了司法人员和办事职员，这些人都全心全意地为郁金香交易贡献他们的力量。在一些城镇里，人们无视政府委派的公证员，郁金香就是他们的公证员。在更小的、没有交易场所的城镇里，大的酒馆通常被作为“展示地”。在这里，形形色色买卖郁金香的人完成他们的交易，以成全人们奢靡的娱乐。有时，这些宴会有二三百人参加。大瓶大瓶盛开的郁金香以等距离间隔放在桌子上和餐柜上，以供他们在用餐期间欣赏。

但是，最后，比较精明的人开始意识到这个愚蠢的行为不可能永远持续下去。富人们买了这些花，不再是为了把它们养在花园里，而是以百分百的利润卖出。有人已经预见到，最后，肯定有人会损失惨重。当这个信念开始四处传播的时候，价格下跌了，而且，再也没有重新升起。自信心被摧毁了，铺天盖地的恐慌感折磨着所有交易者的心。A同意在合同签署六周后，以每棵四千弗罗林的价钱从B那里购买十棵名叫永远的奥古斯都的郁金香。B在约定的时间将花准备好；但是价格下降到了三四百弗罗林。A既不同意以不同的价钱购买，也拒绝接受这些郁金香。在荷兰所有的城镇上，每天都会宣布新的违约者名单。那些成千上万个在几个月前还怀疑在荷兰这块土地上是否存在贫穷这码事的人们，突然间发现他们自己已经是除了几棵根茎之外一无所有的穷光蛋。没有人愿意买这些根。即便卖者愿意以他们所付价钱的四分之一出售，也没有人理睬。每一个角落都回响着痛苦的哭声。每一个人都在诅咒他的邻居。那些通过密谋策划富了腰包的少数人悄悄地把他们的财富藏起来，不让和他们同住一城的人发现，然后，把这些钱投资到英国或其他国家的基金。那些就这样简简单单一夜暴富的穷人又回到了原来的贫穷状态；家境殷实的商人几乎沦为乞丐；许许多多的达官贵人眼睁睁地看着他们的房产彻底毁灭。

当第一阵惊慌渐渐平息之后，几个城镇上的郁金香持有者召开公众会议，目的是设计出恢复公众信用的好办法。人们一致同意全国各地派代表到阿姆斯特丹，和政府商议解决目前混乱状态的办法。最初，政府拒绝参与，只是建议郁金香持有者自行达成协议。为了达到这个目的，他们召开了几次会议。但是，最终没有商议出让受害人满意的结果，也没有讨论出弥补哪怕只是一点点所受到的伤害的措施。每个人张口就是抱怨和指责，所有的会议都在雷霆大怒的气氛中进行。但是，最终，经过无数次的争吵和僵持，聚集在阿姆斯特丹的代表们达成一致协议。协议规定，所有在狂热高峰期和1636年11月之前签订的合同统统宣告无效；而对于那些在此日期之后签订的合同，只要购买者付给销售者十分之一的货款，就可以免除他们的其他债务。这个决定没有让任何人满意。手中持有郁金香的销售者当然不满意，而那些曾许诺购买的人也觉得他们受到的待遇太苛刻。曾价值六千弗罗林的郁金香，现在花五百就可以买到；所以，十分之一的价钱比实际的价值还要多出一百弗罗林。这个国家的法庭上每天都充斥着违约法案，但是法庭拒绝审理赌博性质的交易。

事件最终交由海牙省议会解决。人们信心十足地期待，这个机构的智慧能够想出恢复信用的办法。人们翘首企盼最后的决定，但是这个决定却一直没有到来。与会成员一周接一周地讨论，最后，在思考了三个月之后，宣布除非有更多的信息，否则他们无法作出最后决定。但是，他们建议，销售商应该在有证人的情况下，把他们现有的郁金香以代表们已经商议好的价钱卖给购买者。如果后者拒绝购买，他们可以通过公众拍卖的方式将其出售。而最初的合同签约者应该担负实际的价钱和最后决定价钱之间的差价。这恰恰就是之前代表们曾推荐的计划，而且已经证明是无效的。在荷兰没有负责强制付款的法庭。这个问题在阿姆斯特丹被提出，但是，法官们以法律债务不涉及赌博债务为由一致拒绝参与。

事情就这样平息下来。政府没有能力找到解决的办法。那些在事态逆转之时不幸还存有大量郁金香的倒霉蛋们只能尽量乐观地接受他们的损失；那些盈利者被允许他们保有所得；但是国家的经济经受了严重的打击，很多年后才得以恢复。

英国在某种程度上模仿了荷兰的模式。1636年，郁金香在伦敦交易所公开出售，经销商竭尽所能把价格提高到和阿姆斯特丹那里一样高得荒谬的水平。巴黎的经销商也在努力创造郁金香热。在这两座城市里，他们只是在某种程度上获得了成功。然而，榜样的力量却让这些花大受欢迎。某个阶层内的人们对郁金香的钟爱程度要远远高于其他种类的花。现今，荷兰人仍旧以他们对郁金香的偏爱而闻名于世，并且为郁金香付出的价钱依然高于其他民族所愿意支付的价钱。当富有的英国人吹嘘他的优良赛马和古画的时候，富有的荷兰人则会向人炫耀他的郁金香。

在今天的英国，我们会觉得一棵郁金香比一棵橡树还要值钱是一件很奇怪的事情。如果黑色的稀世珍品被发现，黑得就像尤维纳尔〔4〕所说的人间少有的黑天鹅那样，它的价钱就等于十二英亩玉米的价钱。根据大英百科全书第三版增补版的一个权威作者所提供的信息，17世纪末，郁金香在苏格兰的最高价为十个基尼。自此之后，它们的价值似乎慢慢降低了，直到1769年，英国出现了两个最昂贵的品种——唐·科维多和瓦伦丁娜，前者值两个基尼，后者值两个半金币。这些价钱后来证明是最低价。1800年，一棵根茎的普通价钱是十五基尼。1835年，如痴如狂的郁金香迷在伦敦的公开拍卖会上以七十五英镑的价钱购得一棵叫作法妮·肯布尔小姐的根茎。价钱更惊人的郁金香为切尔西市国王路上的一个园丁所有。根据他的商品目录，这个郁金香的价钱是二百个基尼。

注　释

〔1〕卢坎：罗马诗人（公元39年11月3日—公元65年4月30日）。他最著名的著作是史诗《法沙利亚》，描述凯撒与庞培之间的内战。这部史诗虽是未完成作品，却被誉为是维吉尔《埃涅阿斯》之外最伟大的拉丁文史诗。引文即出自这部作品。——译者注

〔2〕货币单位：1弗罗林（florin）＝2先令（shilling）——译者注

〔3〕1派瑞特（perit）＝1/4,608,000盎司（ounce）——译者注

〔4〕公元1世纪末2世纪初的罗马诗人，以擅长写讽刺诗著称，著有《讽刺诗集》（Satires）——译者注

疯狂的慢性投毒犯

佩斯卡拉：我从来没听说过类似的事情。

斯特凡诺：在我看来，如果人们仅仅是通过听来了解这件事，肯定会认为这是最不可能发生的荒谬之事。

佩斯卡拉：确实如此。我将尽可能简单地告诉你他们是如何疯狂到这个地步的。

米兰公爵

投毒罪行从古到今一直存在，并且曾一度形成体制。投毒方式是通过毒药发挥作用过程之慢，让普通的观察者认为受害者是死于身体的逐步衰弱。对此事感兴趣者可以参阅贝克曼有关秘密毒药的著作——《发明史》。在这本书里，他收集了希腊和罗马作家所描写的几个有关事例。16世纪早期，此罪行开始逐渐增多；到了17世纪，它就像一场瘟疫一样，蔓延到了整个欧洲。投毒操作通常由假扮的女巫师或男巫师完成。后来，这个技巧在那些声称具有魔力或超自然力量的人中，成为一个专门的学科。亨利八世二十一年时通过了一项法案，将此投毒行为定性为严重危害国家罪：犯罪者将被沸水煮死。

在时间上，史无前例；在残暴程度上，亦无出其右者的此类投毒案件是对托马斯·奥弗伯里爵士的谋杀。这件事情发生在1613年，成为当时詹姆斯一世王廷的耻辱。对这件事情的梗概稍作描述，恰好可以让人们对五十年后在法国和意大利流行的投毒狂潮略知一二。

苏格兰青年罗伯特·克尔很早就引起了詹姆斯一世的注意；并且，尽人皆知，这个人仅仅凭借他的美貌就享尽了荣耀。即便是在当时，人们也怀疑詹姆斯一世沉迷于最让人鄙视的不轨行为；而在今天，我们越是研究他的历史，这个怀疑就越是强烈。无论这个被怀疑的行为是什么，这位帅气十足的克尔在大庭广众之下让他的皇帝主子亲吻他光滑的脸颊。就是这样一个人，通过这种恶心的方式迅速得宠。1613年他成为苏格兰的王室财政大臣；同时，他还以罗切斯特子爵的身份在英格兰担任同样的官职。不仅如此，无数的荣耀在未来的日子里源源不断地向他涌来。

在他飞黄腾达的过程中，并非无友相助。从国王大臣托马斯·奥弗伯里爵士本人信中的某些线索看，他只是一味地迎合国王的恶习，而且详细了解他秘密从事的所有危险行为。就是他本人竭尽所能，促进克尔的晋升；当然，他从后者那里得到了相应的回报。奥弗伯里对克尔的友谊并不仅限于此，如果两者之间真的有什么友谊可言的话。他还担当中间人的角色，帮助罗切斯特和埃塞克斯伯爵的妻子弗朗西丝·霍华德女士通奸。这是一个激情富有到狂野，而羞耻感却无分毫的女人。她的丈夫妨碍了她和罗切斯特的通奸，为了摆脱他，她启动了诉讼离婚程序，离婚的理由是像她这样谦卑而且情感脆弱的女人宁死也不愿意说出的。她见不得人的诉讼成功了。判决刚刚执行，她和罗切斯特大人规模盛大的婚礼就已准备就绪。

托马斯·奥弗伯里爵士曾经全心全意地帮助他的财神爷和埃塞克斯伯爵夫人私通；而现在，他似乎又认为和这样一个品质下贱的女人结婚将会成为他仕途继续前进的障碍。因此，他便竭尽所能地劝阻克尔选择这个婚姻。但是罗切斯特十分倾心这个结合，他的热情和伯爵夫人的热情一样强烈。一天，当奥弗伯里和罗切斯特子爵在白厅的画廊里散步的时候，有人听见奥弗伯里说：“尊贵的大人，如果您娶了那个卑贱的女人为妻，你将彻底地毁掉你的荣誉和你自己。请听取我的建议，坚决不要这样做。如果你做了，只怕你官位难保，所以，你最好小心为妙。”罗切斯特愤怒地扬袖而去，并且大声发誓道：“这件事情，我会和你算账的！”这些话成为倒霉的奥弗伯里的死刑执行令。他暗示罗切斯特，他可以影响国王，并降低国王对罗的喜欢程度。他努力想阻止一个人熊熊燃烧的激情，而这个人又是这样的没心没肺、放荡不羁，且无所顾忌。这一切致命地打击了罗切斯特的自尊心。

奥弗伯里不知天高地厚的规劝传到了伯爵夫人那里。从那一刻起，她就发誓她一定要给他最致命的报复。但是，因为他们极端的虚伪，两位都隐藏了他们的实际意图。在罗切斯特的请求下，奥弗伯里成为被派往俄罗斯王廷的大使。这个表面上的支持却是未来深不可测的致命阴谋的第一步。罗切斯特装作十分关心奥弗伯里的利益的样子，建议他拒绝出使这个任务，并且说这只不过是清除他的一个计谋。同时，他许诺他会对付由奥弗伯里的拒绝所带来的一切不良后果。奥弗伯里就这样中了圈套，拒绝了作为使节出使的任务。詹姆斯国王被激怒了，立即将他囚禁到伦敦塔。

现在，他完完全全地被看管着，他的敌人终于有机会开始他们的复仇行动。罗切斯特所做的第一件事情就是通过他在宫廷里的影响，解雇伦敦塔的副主管，并委派他的傀儡杰维斯·艾尔维斯来填补这个空位。这个人只是个工具；为完成复仇计划，另外一个人必不可少，那就是曾经做过药店伙计的理查德·韦斯顿。他被安排在副看守的职位上，直接看管奥弗伯里。至此为止，所有的一切都为阴谋家的计划做好了准备。

同时，阴险狡诈的罗切斯特热情洋溢地给奥弗伯里写信，信中要他耐心忍受他的不幸，并且许诺他被囚禁的时间不会很长，因为他的朋友们正在竭尽所能降低国王的不快情绪。他照旧是装作极度同情他的样子，因此，随信附上了油酥点心和其他的美味作为礼物，而这些东西在伦敦塔里都是得不到的。送给他的这些点心都被下了毒。偶尔，在没有信的时候，也会有类似的礼物送给杰维斯·艾尔维斯，其目的是让人认为这些东西是没有毒的；但是，对于这些东西，那位不幸的囚犯却从没有尝过。一个叫作特纳的女人被雇来去获得这些毒药。她曾经有一所声名狼藉的房子，并且不止一次地把它借给罗切斯特和埃塞克斯女士，让他们在那里进行罪恶的通奸勾当。这些药都由假装成朗伯斯区算命先生的福尔曼医生负责准备，协助他准备的是一个叫富兰克林的药剂师。这两个人都知道这些毒药的使用目的。他们巧妙地把毒药混合在油酥点心和其他的食品里，混合的量要小，以便能够渐渐消耗受害人的体质。特纳夫人定期将放了毒药的食品送给副看管，然后，副看管再把他们放在奥弗伯里面前。不仅他的食物被投毒，他的饮料也被投了毒。砒霜和他所吃的盐混合，斑蝥和胡椒混合。就这样，在这段时间内，他的健康状况明显下降了。他一天天变得虚弱下来。他的胃口极其奇怪，十分钟情于糖果和果冻。罗切斯特继续安慰他，并且满足他在这方面所有的需要，给他送丰富的油酥点心，偶尔送些松鸡和其他的野味，或者送些乳猪。在这些肉食的调味汁里，特纳夫人混合了一些斑蝥，并且用银制的苛性钠给猪排下毒。就像在审判中所陈述的那样，奥弗伯里以这种方式服下的毒药足以毒死二十个成年男人；但是，因为他的体质强壮，所以，仍旧可以苟延残喘。药剂师富兰克林承认说他和福尔曼医生准备了七种不同种类的毒药。它们是：硝酸、砒霜、水银、钻石粉、银制苛性钠、大蜘蛛和斑蝥。奥弗伯里坚持的时间太长了，这让罗切斯特有点不耐烦。在他写给埃塞克斯女士的一封信中，他说事情的解决没有他预料得那么快。埃塞克斯女士立即命令看门人马上处理掉受害人。在这段时间内，虽然奥弗伯里看起来对投毒之事一无所知，他也并非没有怀疑到罗切斯特对他的背叛。他只是怀疑他要被终身囚禁，他们只是让国王更加厌恶他。他在一封信中威胁罗切斯特说，如果他不被立即释放，他就要将他的流氓行为公之于世。他说：“不久后，你和我都将以另一性质的审判面对公众……不要将我逼上绝路，以免我说出让你和我都后悔不已的话……无论我活着还是死了，你的羞耻都不会消失，它们会永远地留在这个世界上，让你成为有史以来最面目可憎的人……我想知道，你将如何忽略一个知道如此多秘密的人……它们是普通的秘密和普通的危险吗？它们会带来什么样的后果？”

所有这些警告和掌握危险秘密的暗示对于像罗切斯特大人这样做事不计后果的人来说，都只能成为对他的不利因素：它们更有可能导致他的死亡而不是救赎。罗切斯特的所想和所为似乎是一致的。他毫不犹豫地采取了谋杀者的理论，即，“人死则死无对证”。就这样，在他收到带有这些话语的信之后，他对他的情人抱怨事情的延迟。他们督促韦斯顿赶紧完成这个罪行。所有人的耐心都耗尽了，终于，1613年10月，一剂氯化汞放到了他的食物里。在这些人的魔爪下被痛苦地囚禁六个月之后，他的生命结束了。就在他断气当天，尸骨未寒之时，他就被匆匆地裹进一个床单，埋在了伦敦塔附近的一个深坑里。

在《詹姆斯一世王廷和人物》一书当中，安东尼·韦尔登爵士对这个悲剧结局的描写和上述内容有些许不同。他说：“富兰克林和韦斯顿来到奥弗伯里的囚室，发现他处于极端的痛苦折磨之中。很显然，是生命本能的力量在和毒药作斗争。看起来很有可能生命的本能要赢得这场争斗，因为奥弗伯里长出了疮、疹斑和水疱。他们害怕医生的检查会让他们的恶行大白于天下。于是，他们都同意用床单将他勒死；然后，就这样做了。就这样，他们结束了他悲惨的生命，并让阴谋者相信他是死于毒药。除了这两个谋杀者之外，其他人不会想到这种方式。”

突然的死亡——过分仓促的葬礼，以及没有进行尸检的事实，都加剧了浮在人们心头的怀疑。传闻，从悄悄进行转为四处流传；死者的亲眷公开表示他们认为他们的亲人是死于谋杀。但是，罗切斯特在宫廷中的权力如日中天，没有人敢发表哪怕一句对他不利的言论。不久后，他和埃塞克斯伯爵夫人的婚礼在前所未有的豪华气势中进行。国王亲自参加了仪式。

奥弗伯里对詹姆斯性格的了解似乎比罗切斯特所赞叹的还要深。当他预言罗切斯特的婚姻将疏远国王和他的关系时，他真是不折不扣的预言家。然而，此时，罗切斯特所受的恩宠却比以往任何时候都高；但是，好景不长——良心，这个忙碌的监视器，开始起作用了。流言的传播从来没有停止过；一直心存内疚的罗切斯特最终变得憔悴不堪。他的脸颊没有了色彩——他的目光黯淡、脾气暴躁、神情恍惚、情绪低沉。看到他的这幅光景，国王对他的陪伴不再感兴趣，而后，开始四处寻找新欢。机智、帅气而又放荡不羁的白金汉公爵，乔治·维利尔斯正合了国王的心意。仅仅后两个品质就足以让詹姆斯喜欢上他。罗切斯特的影响日渐消弱，白金汉公爵的权力与日俱增。一个失宠之人是没有朋友的。对罗切斯特不利的流言比以往任何时候都更加强烈、更加坚决。这位新宠也不遗余力地落井下石，以加速这位旧爱的堕落。因为急于想彻底毁掉这位享受皇帝宠爱的前任，白金汉怂恿托马斯·奥弗伯里的家人依法质询他们亲人的离奇死亡。

詹姆斯惩罚那些他没有亲自参与的罪行时，绝对足够严厉。此外，他对于自己发现秘密之迅捷十分自以为豪。托马斯·奥弗伯里的案件正中他的下怀。他从逮捕杰维斯·艾尔维斯爵士开始。在诉讼的早期阶段，詹姆斯看上去并不知道罗切斯特在这件事中的纠缠之深。凶残的慢性投毒程序让国王感到十分恐怖，为此，他请来了所有的法官。安东尼·威尔顿爵士跪在他们中间说：“尊敬的法官大人们，最近，我听说你们正在调查一起投毒案件。上帝啊！如果餐桌变成了陷阱，连吃饭都要危及到每个人的生命，如果我们把意大利的这个恶俗引进到我们这里，那么，这个王国（世上唯一以友善著称的民族）将会处于怎样悲惨的境地啊！所以，各位长官，我命令你们对此事严查，没有算计，没有私情，也没有偏袒。在庄严而又恐怖的宣判日，你们给出此事的答案。如果你姑息了这个犯罪案件中的任何一个罪犯，你和你的后代子孙都将受到上帝的诅咒！如果我姑息了任何罪犯，上帝将会永远诅咒我和我的子孙后代！”

这个诅咒在忠于斯图亚特王朝的议会里完全应验。庄重的誓言被打破了，上帝的诅咒不偏不倚地落在了他和他的子孙后代的头上。

在杰维斯·艾尔韦斯爵士之后，被捕的第二个人是副看守韦斯顿，然后是富兰克林和特纳夫人，最后是萨默赛特郡伯爵及其夫人，也就是罗切斯特。奥弗伯里死后，他荣升到了这个尊贵的位置。

第一个受审的是韦斯顿。公众的好奇心空前强烈，这件事情成为人们口中唯一的话题。审判那一天，法庭被挤得水泄不通。在法庭审判报告上，最高法院首席法官库克向陪审团揭露了投毒者卑鄙和猥琐的行为。面对他们秘密的企图，人的生命没有丝毫的自我保护和防御措施。在英国听说投毒是多么罕见的事情啊！在我们的国民看来，这是多么地让人憎恨啊！但是，魔鬼教会这些胆大妄为之徒诡谲之道，他们能够游刃有余地给人们投毒，让受害者按照他们的意愿在一个月、两个月、三个月或更长的时间段内，慢慢消耗掉生命的精华。他们让受害者中毒的方式有四种，即：闻、饮、尝、触。

当起诉书宣读完毕，韦斯顿唯一的反应就是：“主啊！可怜可怜我吧！主啊！可怜可怜我吧！”当被问及他将如何被审判时，他拒绝把自己交给国家的陪审团，并且宣布他只选择接受上帝的审判。他的这种态度持续了一段时间。后来，由于害怕受到藐视法庭罪责〔1〕的惩罚，他最终屈服，请求“无罪”，并且以应有法律程序接受审判。

他所有的罪证都被完全证实，他被宣判有罪并且在泰伯恩刑场处死。特纳夫人、富兰克林和杰维斯·艾尔维斯爵士也受到了审判。宣判后，于1615年10月19日到12月4日之间被处死。而对萨默赛特伯爵和伯爵夫人的伟大审判直到次年五月份才进行。

在审判杰维斯·艾尔维斯的过程中，案件的细节被披露。通过这些细节，人们得知萨默赛特夫人的叔叔，北安普敦公爵和放鹰首领托马斯·孟勋爵士也参与了投毒。前者已经死去，法庭逮捕并审讯了托马斯·孟勋爵士。出人意料的是，这个人似乎太危险了，因而，并不能把他带上绞刑台。他知道詹姆斯一世太多见不得人的秘密，他的临终演讲很可能会揭露对国王不利的信息。对旧罪过的掩盖必然导致新的过错：对托马斯·孟勋爵士的审讯戛然而止；随即，他被释放。

詹姆斯已经违背了他的誓言。他开始害怕他对于投毒者的惩罚过分草率和疯狂。毫无疑问，萨默赛特将被宣判有罪，而国王也十分明白他必会祈求宽恕和赦免。被囚禁在伦敦塔里的时候，萨默赛特十分自信地肯定詹姆斯不敢审判他。在这一点上，他彻底地错了；但是，詹姆斯确实很痛苦。如今，他们之间的秘密无从得知；但是，毕竟可以通过猜测略知一二。一些人认为秘密就是国王所沉迷的恶习；而另外一些人确认这个秘密和亨利王子的死有关。亨利王子是一个善良的年轻人，却深受萨默赛特的厌恶。王子早亡，但是他的父亲并没有为此感到悲伤。据坊间流传，王子为萨默赛特投毒致死。或许，国王因担心某个罪行而心情沉重；他不能放心地将他的同谋萨默赛特在公众面前处决。所以，当国王发现他的最爱深陷奥弗伯里谋杀案时，他的痛苦折磨难以言状。备受痛苦煎熬的国王想尽一切办法，让罪犯的精神处于不会胡言乱语的所谓的安全状态。有人悄悄地建议他先认罪，并相信国王的宅心仁厚。同样的建议也传给了伯爵夫人。国王命令培根起草一份包括所有对萨默赛特“有利”的事实的文件，而这些事实须以犯罪证据为基础。有人再次建议萨默赛特认罪，并许诺不祥之事不会降临到他的头上。

伯爵夫人首先被审判。在宣读起诉书的过程中，她浑身颤抖地流着泪，低声认罪。当被问及她为什么不该被处以死刑的时候，她胆怯地回答说：“我已犯了众怒，我知道没有什么能减轻我的罪过；但是，我渴望得到宽恕，希望各位长官为我向国王求情。”最终，她被宣判死刑。

第二天，伯爵受审。他似乎并未相信詹姆斯的承诺，所以拒绝认罪。可能，根据他对国王性格的了解，他对自己感到自信。他泰然自若地对目击证人进行严厉询问。经过他顽固的辩解和持续长达十一小时的审讯之后，他被证明犯有重罪，并被宣判死刑。

无论罪犯和国王之间的秘密可能是什么，事实是，后者全然不顾他曾经发过的庄重誓言，根本不敢签署死刑执行令。很可能，这个执行令本应该是他自己的。伯爵和伯爵夫人被囚禁伦敦塔，时长达五年之久。最后，让公众震惊、气愤，让他们的最高长官蒙羞的是，这两个人得到了王室的原谅，只是被命令居住在远离宫廷的地方而已。因为犯有重罪，伯爵的房产被充公；但是詹姆斯从这些充公房产的收入中，每年拿出4,000英镑给这位伯爵大人！其行为真是无耻之极！

对这两个罪犯后来的生活，人们不得而知。只是知道他们对彼此曾经的爱变成了厌恶；他们在同一个屋檐下生活了几个月，但是却从未说过一句话。

对于他们暴行的揭露并没有制止投毒的罪行。恰恰相反，就像我们在后面要看到的，真相的揭露引起了疯狂的模仿，而模仿恰是人性中很奇怪的一个特点。有人猜测詹姆斯本人就极有可能成为了投毒的牺牲品。在对哈里斯的《詹姆斯一世的生活和写作》的注释中，就有很多有关这个话题的信息。白金汉的罪名虽然没有完全成立，但是，其疑点足以送成千上万个人上绞刑架。他的犯罪动机是报复国王在统治后期对他的冷淡态度。他害怕詹姆斯要降低他的级别；同时，他又希望他可以通过对皇位继承人思想的影响，在新的统治时期继续保持他在宫廷里的权威，而做到这一点，就必须及时结束旧的统治。

在《哈利父子杂录》第二卷中，有一本名为《复仇先驱》的小册子。这本小册子由医学博士乔治·伊格利沙曼撰写，他是詹姆斯国王的医师之一。在引用这个册子的时候，哈里斯说它的内容充满了仇恨和偏见。册子内容显然有夸大其词之嫌，但是，它绝对是证据链上的一环。伊格利沙曼说：“国王得了疟疾，公爵就利用了这个机会。当国王的医生都在用餐时，他让国王服下了一种白色的粉末。刚开始，国王拒绝了很长时间；但是，在他极尽谄媚的强烈要求下，国王用酒服下。迅即，身体状况开始越来越糟。他多次昏厥，浑身疼痛，疯狂地拉肚子。在重重的折磨中，国王大声喊出了那个白色的粉末，‘上帝啊！我真不应该服下它啊！’”然后，他又告诉我们：“白金汉伯爵夫人（公爵的母亲）用石膏粉涂在国王的心脏上和胸上。从此，他变得虚弱、呼吸短促、痛苦不堪。医生们惊呼国王中毒了；白金汉公爵命令他们出去，并把他们之中的一个囚禁到他自己的房间内，把另一个从宫廷赶走。国王死后，他的身体和头都极其肿胀，头发和头皮都粘到了枕头上，他的手指甲和脚指甲都已经松动。”克拉兰敦是公爵的党羽，他所给出的詹姆斯的死因完全不同。他说：“国王死于疟疾。这本是痛风后的一点不适，但是，在一个已经五十八岁，而且身体肥胖又笨重的人身上，这个病有点变本加厉；在经历了四五次晕厥之后，国王离开了这个世界。国王死后，毫无根据的流言四起。这些极尽刻薄和恶毒的流言出现在国王死后人们获得言论特许权的时候；此刻，人们对于激怒权贵没有任何畏惧之心；此刻，人们把对皇室的指责和侮辱看成丰功伟绩。”尽管在这个宣言似的说明里，克拉兰敦充满自信；但是，世人绝对很难相信在四处流传的流言中，毫无真相可言。就像他所断言的那样，来自于人们的质询并不严密，权威的亲信们利用所有能用到的法律以外的影响，将这些质询否决。在布里斯托尔伯爵控告白金汉公爵的著名案件中，詹姆斯国王的中毒案是所控告的罪行之一；然而，在当时，包含证据总结的那几页历史记录被撕去了。

白金汉公爵的毒药据说购自一个叫作兰姆的医生。此人是个巫师兼江湖医生，以算命先生为掩护经营毒药业务。大众把对他的主顾的满腔愤怒统统转移到他的身上；当然，和毒药相比，这种愤怒是无害的。从此，他再也不能安然无恙地在伦敦街头出现。他的最终命运让人悲叹。一天，他走在齐普赛街头，他认为他的乔装足以掩人耳目，但是，他还是被几个闲逛的男孩子认了出来。他们用垃圾轰赶和袭击他，同时，大声叫喊：“投毒者！投毒者！打倒巫师！打倒他！”很快，民众群集而来，这位医生只好撒开了腿，拼命奔逃。在伍德街，人们追上并抓住了他。从那里，他被揪着头发，拖过泥坑，一路走到了圣·保罗十字路口；乱作一团的众人用石头和棍子不停地打他，并且大喊：“杀了巫师！杀了投毒者！”

查理一世一听到消息，就立即骑马从白厅出发到出事地去平息暴乱；但是，他到的太晚了，没有来得及挽救这位众怒的牺牲品。他身上的每一根骨头都已断裂，他已经彻底的死去了。查理十分生气。因为伦敦市政府不能把这场暴乱的头目绳之以法，国王只好罚了这个城市六百英镑了事。

然而，投毒的盛行之地是在意大利。很久以前，投毒在那里被认为是除掉敌人的十分正当的方式。十六、十七世纪的意大利人用投毒的方式害死他们的对手，投毒心境之坦然犹如当今英国人以法律程序起诉对他们造成伤害的人一样。根据当代作家的作品中所写，在斯芭拉和托菲尼雅进行这个罪恶交易的时代，女士们就堂而皇之地将毒药瓶放在她们的梳妆台上，并且，可以毫无顾忌地把它们用到别人身上，简直就像现代女士在自己身上使用古龙香水和薰衣草香水一样轻松。这种时尚的影响是如此之大，以至于谋杀竟然可以被认为是可以原谅的小过失。1648年，吉斯的最后一位公爵不知天高地厚地想要掌控那不勒斯政府。在他的回忆录中，我们了解到当时人们普遍对投毒的一些奇怪的感觉。一个名叫吉纳罗·安尼斯的人，在马萨尼埃洛做了一段时间的渔夫。时间虽短，却成就辉煌，这让他成为公众眼中的首领人物。吉斯公爵对他的这副模样十分地深恶痛绝，因此，前者的跟随者决定将后者谋杀。公爵本人以十分冷静的态度告诉我们，护卫队队长被安排来承担这项任务。有人给他提建议说匕首是最有效的工具，但是，这个人翻了翻眼睛，对这个提议表示出极其虔诚的畏惧。他准备毒死吉纳罗·安尼斯，只要一声令下，他绝对毫不犹豫；但是，他说用匕首刺死他实在和护卫队官员的身份不符！最后，人们达成一致意见：同意投毒。一个深受公爵信任的律师奥古斯提诺·莫拉把装有液体的瓶子带到了他的主人面前。下面是公爵自己的描述：

夜晚，奥古斯提诺来到我这里，告诉我：“我给你带来了一个东西，他将使你摆脱吉纳罗给你带来的烦恼和不快。他死有余辜，至于采取什么样的形式将他正法并不重要。看看这个盛满了清澈的、美丽的液体的小药瓶。四天后，它就会惩罚他所有的罪过。护卫队长负责把这个药瓶给他；因为药瓶液体没有味道，吉纳罗不会怀疑什么。”

后来，公爵告诉我们说调配药量十分合适。但是，吉纳罗的幸运之处在于他那天的晚餐只吃了卷心菜抹植物油，而这些正好可以作为解毒药。他吃下之后便开始剧烈呕吐，就这样，这些东西救了他的命。他重病五天，但是从来没有怀疑有人给他投毒这件事。

随着时间的推移，兜售毒药成了十分赚钱的生意。此后十一年间，投毒行为在罗马十分猖狂，最后，一向懒怠的政府不得不出面干预。贝克曼在他的《发明史》，勒布瑞特在他的《国家教堂物质史杂志》中对此事都有详细的阐释：1659年，教皇亚历山大七世得知，到忏悔室中忏悔的很多年轻妇女都说她们用慢性毒药毒死了她们的丈夫。天主教神职人员普遍认为忏悔秘密神圣不可侵犯，但是，他们为这个罪行的盛行之极感到震惊和恐惧。虽然，他们不愿意透露忏悔者的姓名，但是，他们认为他们应该向教堂首领报告这些人所犯下的滔天大罪。在罗马，十分流行的一个聊天话题就是年轻的寡妇多得有点不正常。同时，人们的议论内容还包括如下内容：如果一对夫妇生活不幸福，那么，不久后，丈夫就会生病，然后死去。罗马教皇权威开始调查，迅即获悉有个年轻夫人协会，协会夜间在一个叫作希罗尼玛·斯芭拉的女人家里聚会，聚会目的十分神秘。这个老太婆是个著名的巫婆和占卜者，担任这群悍妇的首领。后来证实，这群悍妇中有几个出身上层罗马家庭。

为了获取这个妇女秘密团体实际活动的直接证据，政府雇佣了一位女士以寻求和她们直接接触的机会。这位女士把自己打扮得华丽无比，而且，政府给予她极其丰富的钱财。当她说明自己的目的后，她发现成为斯芭拉的信徒并加入她的团体一点都不难。她装作因为丈夫的不忠和虐待而极其痛苦的模样，并恳求斯芭拉给她几滴受到全罗马女性追捧的，可以让她残酷的丈夫长眠的那种神药。斯芭拉中了圈套，她卖给了她几滴，其价钱和购买者的财富相匹配。

经过化验分析，这些液体就是人们所怀疑的慢性毒药——清澈、无味、透明，和吉斯公爵的描述别无二致。获得这个证据后，警察包围了巫婆的房子，斯芭拉和她的同伴们被拘留。根据人们的描述，斯芭拉是位身材矮小、面目丑陋的老女人。在经受严刑拷打之后，她仍旧顽固地拒绝认罪。另一个叫作格拉提奥萨的女人没有那么坚定的意志，坦白交代了这个罪恶的妇女团体的所有秘密。虽然，她的坦白是经严刑逼供获得的，但是，仍有足够的证据向后世证明她们的罪过。这些人被认定有罪，并且根据她们罪行的不同程度，被判处不同的惩罚。斯芭拉、格拉提奥萨和其他三个毒死她们丈夫的年轻女人在罗马被集体绞死。三十多位妇女在众目睽睽中，被鞭笞着穿过所有街道；几个女人的高位让她们免于羞辱的惩罚，但是被驱逐出国，并被罚以重金；几个月之后，又有九位女人因投毒被绞死；而另一群年轻貌美的女孩，半裸着身子在罗马的街道上被鞭笞。

这种严厉的惩罚并没有制止投毒行为。迫不及待地要继承父亲、叔父，或者兄弟财产的妒妇贪夫选择了投毒。因为毒药无色无味，所以投毒时不容易引起怀疑。技艺高超的兜售者将毒药制成强度不同的等级，投毒者只须说明他们想让服毒者在多长时间内死去：一周、一月，或是半年；然后，他们就会得到相应的剂量。兜售者主要是女人，其中最著名的是叫作托菲尼雅的女巫，她以这种方式成为杀害六百多人的帮凶。这个女人似乎从少女时代就开始经营毒药，她刚开始住在巴勒莫，后来搬到了那不勒斯。娱乐旅行家，勒巴老爹在他的《来自意大利的书信》中，对这个人做了很多奇怪的描写。1719年，当他在契维塔韦基亚的时候，那不勒斯的总督发现大量的毒药买卖在那不勒斯市进行，毒药被冠以“水”或“小水”的称号。通过进一步的调查，他断定托菲尼雅把写有“巴里圣人尼古拉斯甘露”的小瓶大量地发往意大利各地。（当时，这位女人已经有七十岁高龄，并且她是在处死斯芭拉之后，马上就开始这个罪恶交易的。）

巴里圣人尼古拉斯的墓闻名整个意大利。据说，从墓中，有一股神奇的油流出，只要服用者有足够的信念，这个油可以包治百病。托菲尼雅巧妙地利用这个名字命名她的毒药，目的是逃避海关官员的警觉，因为，他们和其他人一样，对巴里圣人尼古拉斯和他的神油虔诚而恭敬。

这个毒药和斯芭拉所制作的毒药十分类似。顺势疗法创始人哈奈曼医生，在写到这个物质的时候说，毒药的成分为含砷的中性盐，它让受害者失去食欲、身体衰弱、胃部疼痛、力气消失、肺部衰竭。神父加利亚尔迪说，投毒的做法通常是将它放入茶、巧克力或汤里，它起作用的过程十分缓慢，几乎不会被察觉。奥地利国王的医生加雷利在给霍夫曼的信中说，毒药就是用煎煮的形式融化到大量的水里的晶状砷，然后再加上芯巴草（原因不明）。那不勒斯人称它为托夫妮娜水，很快，这种毒药就以托夫妮娜水之名，在整个欧洲臭名远扬。

虽然，这个女人从事罪恶贸易的范围十分广泛，但是，却很难遇到她。她一直生活在惧怕被发现的恐惧里。她不断地更换名字和居住地；有时候，她会假扮成极其虔诚的信徒，在修道院连续待上几个月。每当她担心被发现的时候，她就会到教会里去寻求庇护。她很快得到了那不勒斯总督搜捕她的消息，然后，根据她的经验，躲到了修道院里。或者是因为搜寻不够严密，或者是因为她的隐藏手段十分高超；总之，持续好几年，她都设法逃过了官方的警觉。更加离奇的是，根据她的体系分支所显示，她的贸易范围和以前一样大。勒巴告诉我们说，她十分同情那些憎恨她们的丈夫、想把她们的丈夫除掉但又没钱买这个神“水”的女人们。对于这些人，她把这些毒水作为礼物送给了她们。

然而，上天是不会允许她一直玩下去的。最后，总督在一个女修道院里发现了她，并且切断了她的退路。总督几次三番抗议，要求修道院院长将其交出。但是，有主教教区大主教支持的修道院院长一再拒绝。因为他们之间的屡次交涉，这个罪犯似乎显得格外重要。公众好奇心大发，成千上万的人到这个修道院里去，只为能看上她一眼。

反反复复的推延终于耗尽了总督的耐心。总督是理智之人，而且并非狂热的天主教徒，所以，他坚决认为即便是教堂也不能庇护罪恶如此深重的罪犯。他选择了无视修道院的权威，派了一个部队，推倒墙壁，用武力将她带走。大主教、红衣主教皮尼亚泰利十分生气。他威胁说要把整个城市逐出教会，并且要封锁整个城市。受团队精神激发的所有下级神职人员都参与到这个争端中，并且对那些容易轻信和盲从的人施加影响。结果，这些人磨刀霍霍地要攻击总督官府，解救囚犯。

形势十分严峻，但是，总督并不是可以被吓倒的人。实际上，在事件的整个过程中，他都表现出了少有的机智、冷静和活力。为了避免逐出教会的威胁所带来的恶劣后果，他派兵包围了大主教的住所。他断定，主教绝对不会把整个城市逐出教会，饿死包括他自己在内的全市市民。这样的傻事，他是绝对不会做的。只要城市处于封锁之中，那些商人是绝对不敢为这个城市供应食品的。这个措施势必会给他以及他的神职兄弟们带来诸多不便。正如总督所料，这位心地善良的大主教把他的雷霆之怒留给了其他的事件。

民众的情绪也尚待安抚。为了避免怒气冲天的喧闹和迫在眉睫的暴乱，政府的代表巧妙地混到民众中，并且到处散布消息说这个城市里所有的井水和泉水都被托菲尼雅施了毒。就此，大功告成。公众的愤怒情绪立即转向了她。那些前一秒还把她看成圣人的人，此刻已把她作为恶魔来诅咒，他们要马上惩罚她的急切心情丝毫不亚于当时希望她逃脱的愿望。随后，托菲尼雅被严刑拷问。她一一承认了她罄竹难书的罪行，并一一列出她的主顾名单。不久，她就被绞死。她的尸体被隔墙扔到她曾住过的修道院的花园里。这个行为似乎是为了安抚那些神职人员。毕竟，这是允许他们去埋葬曾在他们的地盘上避过难的人。

在她死后，投毒的狂热似乎降低了。但是，我们在下面要看一下这股狂热是如何在更早的时期控制法国人的。1670年到1680年间，投毒活动在法国根深蒂固，以至于塞维涅夫人在她的一封信中说她十分害怕法国人和投毒者这两个表达方式会成为近义词。

正如在意大利，政府也是从一个牧师那里第一次获悉这个罪行之盛。社会地位从高到低的女性都曾在她们的忏悔中承认她们毒死了她们的丈夫。真相大白后，名为奥克西利和格拉泽的两个意大利人被捕，并被囚禁在巴士底狱，原因是，有人控告他们配制并兜售用于谋杀的毒药。格拉泽死于狱中，但是，奥克西利一连几个月待在狱中，并未受到审判。到监狱后不久，他就认识了一位名叫克鲁瓦圣人的狱友。当时，这位克鲁瓦圣人所创造的投毒模式仍旧在法国人中流传。

在所有从此人处学得投毒知识的人中，最有名的当属布兰维利耶夫人。这个人有着极其高贵的出身背景和婚姻背景。她在早年时期似乎就没心没肺、道德败坏。如果我们相信她自己的忏悔的话，那就是，在她十几岁之前，她的心中就装满了邪恶。但是，她不但美丽，且外在修养十足；在世人的眼里，她温柔可爱，堪作典范。盖奥特·德·皮塔瓦尔在他的《著名的事业》中，以及赛维纳夫人在她的《书信》中，对她的描述都是举止文雅、得体。从对外貌的描述上，丝毫看不出其内在灵魂的邪恶。她于1651年嫁给了布兰维利耶侯爵，婚后几年的生活并不愉快。他放荡不羁，沉迷酒色。就是他本人将克鲁瓦圣人介绍给了他的夫人。这个人给她的生活蒙上了毁灭的阴影，他拉着她一步步走向犯罪的深渊，直到她的罪过大到让她无法承受，想起便让她浑身发抖的地步。对这个人，她心中充满激情，为了满足这罪恶的激情，她一头扎进了罪恶的深渊。她被拉到了罪孽的最深处，直到惩罚降临。

到那时为止，她始终以美好的形象示人；然而，她的丈夫却没有有意掩盖自己的恶行；所以，在寻求和她的丈夫合法分居的过程中，她几乎没有遇到阻力。这件事大大地冒犯了她的家人。自此之后，她完全扔掉了她的面具，开始和她的情人克鲁瓦圣人堂而皇之地进行她的阴谋。她的父亲为她的行为感到可耻，他获得了逮捕密令，将克鲁瓦圣人在巴士底狱囚禁了十二个月。

克鲁瓦圣人曾生活在意大利，在毒药方面，仅仅是业余水平。他知道罪大恶极的斯芭拉的一些秘密配方。入狱后，他迅速地和奥克西利建立起所谓的友谊，后来，在奥克西利的指导下，迅速提升了他对这些秘方的运用能力。奥克西利不仅向他展示了如何准备液体毒药的技巧，并且教他学会了如何使用其粉末状替代品。后来，这个粉末状的替代品在法国广为人知。像他的情妇一样，他外表谦和、诙谐、智慧；在他的身上，人们绝对看不到他的内心有两种罪恶的激情在熊熊燃烧：复仇和贪婪；这两个激情在折磨着他的心。他的这两个激情要在不幸的德奥布雷家族身上得到满足：满足复仇，是因为他们囚禁了他；满足贪婪，是因为他们很富有。由于他的粗心大意和挥金如土，他总是处于缺钱状态，只有布兰维利耶夫人供给他的开销，但是她所拥有的财产远远不能满足他的需求。一想到他和那些财富之间的障碍，他就十分沮丧；为此，他萌生了可怕的罪恶念头：毒死她的父亲德奥布雷先生和她的两个哥哥，让她继承财产。谋杀三个人对于这样的一个恶棍来说不足挂齿。他把他的计划告诉了布兰维利耶夫人，后者毫不犹豫地同意和他协作：他负责配制，她负责投放。她着手工作的激情和敏捷令人难以置信。克鲁瓦圣人发现她很擅长学习。很快，她配制毒药的技巧和他一样具有了专业水准。为了试验第一批剂量的强度，她把这些毒药用在狗、兔子和鸽子身上。随后，为了进一步确认这些毒药的功效，她走到医院里，以慈善的形式，把毒药放到她送给那些穷病人的汤里。所有这些毒药的剂量都不会一次致死，这就使得她在每个人身上尝试一次的方式不会引起谋杀的嫌疑。她通过在鸽肉馅饼中投毒的方式，在她父亲邀请的客人身上做这个罪恶的实验。为了进一步确认，她甚至接着给自己投毒！当用这种孤注一掷的方式确认了剂量的功效之后，她服下了从克鲁瓦圣人那里得来的解药。所有的疑虑都被解除之后，她开始给她头发灰白的父亲投毒。她亲自将第一剂放到了她父亲的巧克力里，毒药作用发挥良好。这位老人病倒了，他看起来焦急而体贴的女儿守护在他的床前。第二天，她给她父亲端来她认为很有营养的肉汤，汤内也已投毒。她就以这种方式耗尽了他的体质，不到十天，他就成了一具尸体。他的死看起来确实是疾病带来的后果，没有引起任何人的怀疑。

当俩兄弟悲哀地从外省赶来为他们的父亲尽他们最后的责任的时候，他们发现他们的妹妹悲哀至极。最起码，从表面看来，最孝顺的感情也莫过于此了。但是，这两位年轻人的到来只不过是送死而已。他们站在了克鲁瓦圣人和他已经半抓着的金子之间，他们必须命丧黄泉。一个叫肖斯的人被克鲁瓦圣人雇来投放毒药，不到六周的时间，俩兄弟双双进了坟墓。

此时，人们开始怀疑；但是，所有的一切都做得天衣无缝，找不到任何和此事有牵连的人。这位女侯爵有个妹妹，由于亲人的亡故，她有权获得一半的财产。然而，只有全部的财产才能满足克鲁瓦圣人的贪欲。所以，他决定：她必须死去，就像她的父兄一样。然而，她的过分的多疑让她离开了巴黎，也因此躲过了暗暗向她袭来的毁灭。

女侯爵所进行的上述谋杀是为了取悦她的情人，现在，她急切地想再次染指，这次，是为她自己。她渴望嫁给克鲁瓦圣人，但是，虽然她和丈夫分居，却并未离婚。她认为毒死他比向法院起诉离婚更加简单。因为，在法院，她极有可能被拒绝。但是，克鲁瓦圣人不再爱他这个罪恶的工具。恶棍往往并不钟情同类。虽然克鲁瓦圣人自己罪孽深重，却并没有再娶一个恶婆的愿望，所以，他一点也不急于让侯爵死去。然而，他看起来还是参与到了这个阴谋中，并为她提供了毒死她丈夫的毒药；但是，他很小心地一并提供了解药。布兰维利耶夫人第一天给她丈夫投毒，克鲁瓦圣人第二天就给他解药。他就以这种方式被他们二人反反复复折磨了一段时间之后，最终幸免于难，但是，体质被损，伤心欲绝。

但是，报应之日已近在眼前。一个可怕的灾难让谋杀的真相大白于天下。克鲁瓦圣人所配制的毒药毒性极大，所以，当他在实验室工作的时候，他必须带上面罩以防窒息而死。一天，面罩不幸滑落，这个卑鄙小人就倒在了他的滔天罪行之中。第二天，人们在他装备了实验室的昏暗住处发现了他的尸体。因为他无亲无友，警察就接管了他的财产。在所有的东西中，他们发现了一个小盒子，盒子中附有下面这个奇怪的文件：

我恳求，无论此盒落入何人之手，请务必帮我把它转给布兰维利耶侯爵夫人，夫人住在纽芬兰·圣·保罗大街。盒中之物和她有关，仅属她所有，且仅能为她所用。如若她先我而逝，望将此盒连同内部所有一起焚毁，切勿打开或做任何更改。为避免有人以不知情为由将其打开，我以我所尊敬的上帝和所有圣人之名发誓，我要保证我如下所言事实的应验：如果我合理且正义的意图被违背，我将让他们的良心在今生来世里都不得安宁，并以此换取我内心之平静。这就是我的临终遗嘱。1672年5月写于巴黎。

克鲁瓦圣人

这份急切的恳求并没有带来主人所期望的尊重，反而激起了人们的好奇心。盒子被打开了，人们发现里面装有文件、几个小药瓶和一些粉末。小药瓶和粉末交给药剂师分析成分，那些文件被警察留下并打开查阅。在这些文件中，有一个布兰维利耶夫人付给克鲁瓦圣人的，价值三万法郎的期票。其他的文件更加重要，因为它们包含了她和她的仆人肖斯最近的谋杀事件。她一得知克鲁瓦圣人的死讯，就企图马上得到他的文件和盒子；但是，她的要求被拒绝了。她感觉没有了犹豫的时间，立即逃跑。第二天清晨，警察奋力追踪，但是，她成功地逃到了英国。而肖斯却没有那么幸运。他对那个将他的罪行大白于天下的致命事件一无所知，他做梦都没想到他会有危险。法院逮捕并审讯了他：在严刑拷问下，他承认他曾给德奥布雷父子投毒，为此，他从克鲁瓦圣人和布兰维利耶侯爵夫人那里得到一百个金币，以及养老金的承诺。对他的最终判决是活活摔死在车轮上；在侯爵夫人缺席的情况下，对她的宣判是斩首。1673年，在巴黎的格雷夫的广场上，按照宣判，肖斯被处死。

布兰维利耶夫人大概在英国住了三年。1676年初，她觉得严格的追查应该已经结束，她应该可以冒险回到欧洲大陆，随后，她秘密到了列日。尽管她小心翼翼，她返回的消息还是迅速被报告给了法国政府，后者马上和那个城市的政府做出安排，以便法国的警察可以在他们法律允许的范围内将其逮捕。毛利肖斯的警官德格雷按照安排，离开巴黎去往目的地。他一到列日就发现她已经藏在了一个修道院内。在这里，法律是鞭长莫及；但是，德格雷绝非知难而退之人。他巧用智谋完成了法律无法完成的使命。他把自己装扮成教父，获得了进入修道院的许可，然后，寻机和布兰维利耶夫人见面。他说，作为路过列日的法国人，他一定要见一位女士，因为她的美貌和不幸尽人皆知。这些恭维之词满足了她的虚荣心。用稍显粗鲁却十分到位的表述，那就是，德格雷已经完全掌控了她，而她却对德格雷无从知晓。他继续巧妙地向她倾吐爱慕之词，直到这位已经被骗上当的侯爵夫人完全失去警觉。无需太多恳求，她就同意在修道院墙外和他幽会，因为，在那里，他们的激情私通比在里边要方便得多。按照她和她所谓的新情人的约定，她出现在了那里；结果发现等待她的不是勇士的拥抱，而是警察的拘捕。

对她的审判很快就开始进行。罪证充分！肖斯的临终遗言就足以证明她的罪行；除此之外，还有克鲁瓦圣人盒子里那些神秘的文件；她逃离法国的行为；以及比其他任何证据都更有说服力，更能将她置于死地的证据：在克鲁瓦圣人的财产中发现的，由她亲自签署的文件，在这个文件里，她向他详述了她一生所犯下的罪行，而这些罪行就包括她对父兄的谋杀。所有这一切都确凿地证明了她的罪恶。在审判期间，整个巴黎都处于骚乱不安的状态，人们讨论的唯一话题就是布兰维利耶。她犯罪的所有细节都被公之于众，被公众如饥似渴地详细研读。对于成千上万的人来说，这是他们第一次接触秘密投毒的想法，而这些人在后来也犯下了同样的罪行。

1676年7月16日，巴黎最高刑事法庭对她谋杀父兄以及企图谋杀妹妹的犯罪事实进行宣判，判处死刑。死刑执行前，她被放在一个架子上，光着脚，脖子上套着绳子，手里拿着燃烧的火炬，被一路拉到巴黎圣母院的门口。在这里，她在众目睽睽之下当众谢罪；然后，从那里，她被带到格雷夫广场斩首。死后，她的尸体被烧掉，连灰烬都化为乌有。

在对她进行判决之后，她对自己的罪行供认不讳。看起来似乎对死亡无所畏惧，但，实际上，她的精神支柱是不顾后果的鲁莽而非勇气。塞维涅夫人说，她恳求忏悔牧师利用他对死刑执行者的影响，让他站在她身边，使他的身体挡住她的视线，以免她会看到“那个设圈套抓她的流氓德格雷”。她还问爬到窗口看游行队伍的女士们，她们在看什么，并且补充道：“你们所看到的景象确实十分美妙！”被放到绞刑台上的时候，她放声大笑；和活着的时候一样，临死，她仍旧不知悔改，没心没肺。第二天，人们成群结队地去搜集她的骨灰，并将它作为纪念物保存下来。人们把她看作是被害的圣人，认为她的骨灰被神赋予了包治百病的力量。大众的愚蠢总是让他们莫名其妙地去神化某些人，而这些人的所谓神圣之名实在是有待考究；但是，在这件事情上，这些乌合之众的愚蠢实在是令人作呕、无与伦比。

在她死之前，控告身兼朗格多克省〔2〕财长及牧师总收款人佩诺捷先生的诉讼程序启动。控告者是一位叫作圣·劳伦的女士。她控告佩诺捷为了获得她丈夫，即前任牧师总收款人的职位，将他毒死。这个案件的详情从未外泄，有人不遗余力地阻止针对此案的审讯。据悉，被告和克鲁瓦圣人及布兰维利耶夫人有着密切的联系，所以，人们认为他的毒药是从他们那里获得。但是，布兰维利耶拒绝提供任何有可能牵连到他的细节。佩诺捷在巴士底狱被囚禁几个月之后，审讯最后无果而终。

根据当时的流言所传，红衣主教邦齐被指为佩诺捷的帮凶。红衣主教的财产每年必须为几个人支付几笔数额不菲的年金；而到投毒盛行之时，所有领取年金的人一一死亡。后来提到这些领取年金者时，红衣主教说：“多亏了我的福星，我活得比他们都长！”一个头脑机智的人看到他和佩诺捷同乘一辆马车，他大声喊道：“那就是红衣主教邦齐和他的福星！”这声呼喊无疑和主教所言遥相呼应。

就在当时，投毒的狂热开始控制普通民众的头脑。自此直到1682年，法国的监狱里挤满了被控告犯有此罪的犯人；同时，让人不可思议的是，其他罪行成比例减少。我们已经看到了它在意大利的疯狂程度，如果这个程度尚未登峰造极，仍旧可以被超越的话，法国绝对远远超越了意大利。这些毫无气味的毒药给谋杀活动带来的轻松如魔鬼般引诱着那些心怀叵测之人。嫉妒、复仇、贪婪，甚至仅仅是小小的怨恨都可能让人选择投毒。有些人因害怕被发现而拒绝使用手枪、匕首，以及大剂量毒药等可以立刻致死的手段，这些人肆无忌惮地选择了慢性毒药。虽然，当时的政府腐败到可以对一个像佩诺捷一样富有而又有影响力的朝臣的暴行视而不见，然而，对这个罪行在民众中的盛行也感到震惊不已。在欧洲人的眼里，耻辱就是法国人的代名词。为了制止这个恶行，路易十六设立了火焰法庭，或者叫燃烧室，在这里，法官拥有审讯和惩罚罪犯的无上权力。

在当时，有两位女人尤其臭名昭著，她们是杀害成千上万个人的帮凶。这两个人名叫拉瓦辛和拉韦高胡，都住在巴黎。她们模仿斯芭拉和托菲尼雅，像她们俩人一样，她们也是主要把毒药卖给那些想除掉丈夫的女人；偶尔，也会卖给想除掉妻子的丈夫。她们假扮的职业是助产士，同时，她们还假装成算命者，被社会各个阶层的人拜访。穷人和富人蜂拥到她们的住处，去寻求未来的秘密。她们的预言主要和死亡有关。她们给女人们预告向她们的丈夫走来的死亡；她们给心情急迫的继承人计算他们富有的亲人的死期，因为正如拜伦所述，这些亲人让他们等得太久了。她们总是小心翼翼地去帮助她们所预言之事的应验，做法通常是告诉那些倍受困扰的主人说，预示死亡的迹象将会在屋子里发生，比如摔碎一个瓷器或玻璃器皿；然后，她们就会重金贿赂仆人们，让他们在约定的时间，貌似偶然地摔碎一样东西。助产士的身份让她们了解到许多家庭的秘密，她们随后就把这些秘密变成了可怕的故事。

在被发现之前，她们从事这个罪恶的交易已有多久，人们不得而知。她们最终在1679年底被察觉。经过审判并证实罪行后，两人的手被炽热的烙铁烫穿，用刀砍下。1680年2月22日，两人被活活烧死在格雷夫广场。她们在巴黎和外省的无数同谋也被发现，并经受了审判。一些作者记录为三十人，另一些记录为五十人，在主要城市被绞死。这些人中大部分为女人。

拉瓦辛留有一份所有到她住处买毒药的顾客的名单。在她被捕后，警察获得了这份名单，并带到法院进行审查。名单包括卢森堡的元帅、苏瓦松伯爵夫人和布永公爵夫人。元帅的罪行似乎只是在于他拜访了这样一位女人，充其量也只能算是个不体面的蠢事；但是，当时民众的呼声给他的定性绝非蠢事那么简单。《乌得勒支和平后的欧洲事务回忆录》的作者说：“那个经营毒药和预言未来的犯罪团伙声称他已经投奔了魔鬼。一个叫作杜邦的女孩曾经被他毒死。在其他故事中，她们说，为了让他的儿子和鲁瓦侯爵的女儿成婚，他和魔鬼签订了合同。面对这个恶毒而荒谬的控告，元帅高傲而无辜地说：‘当我的祖先马提厄·德·蒙特默伦西和路易斯·勒·格罗斯的寡妻结婚的时候，他求助的是议会而不是魔鬼，其目的是获得蒙特默伦西家族对未成年国王的支持。’这个时候，这位元帅已经因为第一次的控告而被囚于巴士底狱了。这位勇士被囚禁在长仅六英尺半的牢房里。他的审讯停滞了几周后，又继续进行了十四个月。最终，没有对他进行任何判决。”

苏瓦松伯爵夫人没有冒被审判的危险，直接逃到了布鲁塞尔。她因为企图用粉末状毒药分步毒死西班牙女王的罪行，而将自己永远地钉在了耻辱柱上。布永公爵夫人被捕后被火焰法庭审判。但是，她似乎和慢性投毒没有任何关系，而只是想探究她们可以预知未来的秘密，看一眼魔鬼以满足她的好奇心。火焰法庭的庭长之一雷尼是个面貌丑陋、身材矮小的小男人。他问她是否真的见到了魔鬼。面对这个问题，这位女士眼睁睁地看着他的脸答道：“噢，是的！我现在看到他了。他是一位身材矮小、面貌丑陋的老男人，脾气坏极了，而且还穿着国家级法律顾问的长袍。”面对这样一位头脑机敏、言语犀利的女士，雷尼小心翼翼地停止了对她的审问。公爵夫人在巴士底狱被囚禁了几个月，没有发现任何可以证明她有罪的罪证。最后，在她有权势的朋友的干涉下，她被释放了。对于这些有名望的罪犯的惩罚本应降低平民效仿的热度；相反，一些名人免受惩罚的现实对事态的发展起了反作用。佩诺捷和他的雇主红衣主教邦齐的逃跑对社会造成了极其恶劣的影响。在后来长达两年的时间里，这个罪行继续肆虐，直到火刑的火柱熊熊燃烧，绞刑的绳索高高悬挂，一百多个人被处死后，罪行才最后被完全镇压。〔3〕

注　释

〔1〕对于违抗法庭命令的罪犯的惩罚可以用三个短语来表示：压死、冻死和饿死。压死指的是，罪犯应该躺在地上；然后，在他的身上压重物，重量慢慢增加，直到他咽气为止。有时候，惩罚并不会达到这个程度，而是允许罪犯恢复，但是要经历第二个部分，即冻死。在第二部分，罪犯要赤身裸体地在众目睽睽之下，站在户外的某个地方。第三种方式，饿死，更加可怕。法令规定：“在行刑之前，让罪犯以最粗糙的面包和遇到的下一个阴沟或泥坑里的水为食；一天中，饮水和吃面包他只能选择其中之一。”在这种折磨中，让天意来决定他在世上弥留的时间。

〔2〕古时法国南部一省份。——译者注

〔3〕慢性投毒这个罪行最近几年在英国重演悲剧，犯罪范围之广足以让整个民族蒙羞。投毒者主要是社会地位较低的女人，而她们的牺牲品是她们的丈夫和孩子。绝大部分的犯罪目的之卑劣让人难以想象：仅为获得他们所属的埋葬社团支付的保险金或埋葬费。人们渴望，如果新颁布的法令无法彻底消灭这种令人发指的罪行的话，至少可以减少悲剧的发生。（1851）

Charles Mackay

Some Extraordinary Popular Delusions

PENGUIN BOOKS — GREAT IDEAS

I
Popular Follies of Great Cities

La faridondaine — la faridondon,

Vive la faridondaine!

Béranger

The popular humours of a great city are a never-failing source of amusement to the man whose sympathies are hospitable enough to embrace all his kind, and who, refined though he may be himself, will not sneer at the humble wit or grotesque peculiarities of the boozing mechanic, the squalid beggar, the vicious urchin, and all the motley group of the idle, the reckless, and the imitative that swarm in the alleys and broadways of a metropolis. He who walks through a great city to find subjects for weeping, may, God knows, find plenty at every corner to wring his heart; but let such a man walk on his course, and enjoy his grief alone — we are not of those who would accompany him. The miseries of us poor earthdwellers gain no alleviation from the sympathy of those who merely hunt them out to be pathetic over them. The weeping philosopher too often impairs his eyesight by his woe, and becomes unable from his tears to see the remedies for the evils which he deplores. Thus it will often be found that the man of no tears is the truest philanthropist, as he is the best physician who wears a cheerful face, even in the worst of cases.

So many pens have been employed to point out the miseries, and so many to condemn the crimes and vices, and more serious follies of the multitude, that our's shall not increase the number, at least in this chapter. Our present task shall be less ungracious, and wandering through the busy haunts of great cities, we shall seek only for amusement, and note as we pass a few of the harmless follies and whimsies of the poor.

And, first of all, walk where we will, we cannot help hearing from every side a phrase repeated with delight, and received with laughter, by men with hard hands and dirty faces — by saucy butcher lads and errand-boys — by loose women — by hackney coachmen, cabriolet drivers, and idle fellows who loiter at the corners of streets. Not one utters this phrase without producing a laugh from all within hearing. It seems applicable to every circumstance, and is the universal answer to every question; in short, it is the favourite slang phrase of the day, a phrase that, while its brief season of popularity lasts, throws a dash of fun and frolicsomeness over the existence of squalid poverty and ill-requited labour, and gives them reason to laugh as well as their more fortunate fellows in a higher stage of society.

London is peculiarly fertile in this sort of phrases, which spring up suddenly, no one knows exactly in what spot, and pervade the whole population in a few hours, no one knows how. Many years ago the favourite phrase (for, though but a monosyllable, it was a phrase in itself) was 'Quoz'. This odd word took the fancy of the multitude in an extraordinary degree, and very soon acquired an almost boundless meaning. When vulgar wit wished to mark its incredulity and raise a laugh at the same time, there was no resource so sure as this popular piece of slang. When a man was asked a favour which he did not choose to grant, he marked his sense of the suitor's unparalleled presumption by exclaiming 'Quoz!' When a mischievous urchin wished to annoy a passenger, and create mirth for his chums, he looked him in the face, and cried out 'Quoz!' and the exclamation never failed in its object. When a disputant was desirous of throwing a doubt upon the veracity of his opponent, and getting summarily rid of an argument which he could not overturn, he uttered the word 'Quoz', with a contemptuous curl of his lip and an impatient shrug of his shoulders. The universal monosyllable conveyed all his meaning, and not only told his opponent that he lied, but that he erred egregiously if he thought that anyone was such a nincompoop as to believe him. Every alehouse resounded with 'Quoz'; every street corner was noisy with it, and every wall for miles around was chalked with it.

But, like all other earthly things, 'Quoz' had its season, and passed away as suddenly as it arose, never again to be the pet and the idol of the populace. A new claimant drove it from its place, and held undisputed sway till, in its turn, it was hurled from its pre-eminence, and a successor appointed in its stead.

'What a shocking bad hat!' was the phrase that was next in vogue. No sooner had it become universal, than thousands of idle but sharp eyes were on the watch for the passenger whose hat showed any signs, however slight, of ancient service. Immediately the cry arose, and, like the what-whoop of the Indians, was repeated by a hundred discordant throats. He was a wise man who, finding himself under these circumstances 'the observed of all observers', bore his honours meekly. He who showed symptoms of ill-feeling at the imputations cast upon his hat, only brought upon himself redoubled notice. The mob soon perceive whether a man is irritable, and, if of their own class, they love to make sport of him. When such a man, and with such a hat, passed in those days through a crowded neighbourhood, he might think himself fortunate if his annoyances were confined to the shouts and cries of the populace. The obnoxious hat was often snatched from his head, and thrown into the gutter by some practical joker, and then raised, covered with mud, upon the end of a stick, for the admiration of the spectators, who held their sides with laughter, and exclaimed in the pauses of their mirth, 'Oh! what a shocking bad hat!' 'What a shocking bad hat!' Many a nervous, poor man, whose purse could but ill spare the outlay, doubtless purchased a new hat before the time, in order to avoid exposure in this manner.

The origin of this singular saying, which made fun for the metropolis for months, is not involved in the same obscurity as that which shrouds the origin of Quoz and some others. There had been a hotly contested election for the borough of Southwark, and one of the candidates was an eminent hatter. This gentleman, in canvassing the electors, adopted a somewhat professional mode of conciliating their goodwill, and of bribing them without letting them perceive that they were bribed. Whenever he called upon or met a voter whose hat was not of the best material, or, being so, had seen its best days, he invariably said, 'What a shocking bad hat you have got; call at my warehouse, and you shall have a new one!' Upon the day of election this circumstance was remembered, and his opponents made the most of it, by inciting the crowd to keep up an incessant cry of 'What a shocking bad hat!' all the time the honourable candidate was addressing them. From Southwark the phrase spread over all London, and reigned, for a time, the supreme slang of the season.

Hookey Walker, derived from the chorus of a popular ballad, was also high in favour at one time, and served, like its predecessor, Quoz, to answer all questions. In the course of time the latter word alone became the favourite, and was uttered with a peculiar drawl upon the first syllable, and a sharp turn upon the last. If a lively servant girl was importuned for a kiss by a fellow she did not care about, she cocked her little nose, and cried 'Walker!' If a dustman asked his friend for the loan of a shilling, and his friend was either unable or unwilling to accommodate him, the probable answer he would receive was 'Walker!' If a drunken man was reeling along the streets, and a boy pulled his coat-tails, or a man knocked his hat over his eyes to make fun of him, the joke was always accompanied by the same exclamation. This lasted for two or three months, and 'Walker!' walked off the stage, never more to be revived for the entertainment of that or any future generation.

The next phrase was a most preposterous one. Who invented it, how it arose, or where it was first heard, are alike unknown. Nothing about it is certain, but that for months it was the slang par excellence of the Londoners, and afforded them a vast gratification. 'There he goes with his eye out!' or 'There she goes with her eye out!' as the sex of the party alluded to might be, was in the mouth of everybody who knew the town. The sober part of the community were as much puzzled by this unaccountable saying as the vulgar were delighted with it. The wise thought it very foolish, but the many thought it very funny, and the idle amused themselves by chalking it upon walls, or scribbling it upon monuments. But, 'all that's bright must fade', even in slang. The people grew tired of their hobby, and 'There he goes with his eye out!' was heard no more in its accustomed haunts.

Another very odd phrase came into repute in a brief space afterwards, in the form of the impertinent and not universally apposite query, 'Has your mother sold her mangle?' But its popularity was not of that boisterous and cordial kind which ensures a long continuance of favour. What tended to impede its progress was, that it could not be well applied to the older portions of society. It consequently ran but a brief career, and then sank into oblivion. Its successor enjoyed a more extended fame, and laid its foundations so deep, that years and changing fashions have not sufficed to eradicate it. This phrase was 'Flare up!' and it is, even now, a colloquialism in common use. It took its rise in the time of the Reform riots, when Bristol was nearly half burned by the infuriated populace. The flames were said to have flared up in the devoted city. Whether there was anything peculiarly captivating in the sound, or in the idea of these words, is hard to say; but whatever was the reason, it tickled the mob-fancy mightily, and drove all other slang out of the field before it. Nothing was to be heard all over London but 'flare up!' It answered all questions, settled all disputes, was applied to all persons, all things, and all circumstances, and became suddenly the most comprehensive phrase in the English language. The man who had overstepped the bounds of decorum in his speech was said to have flared up; he who had paid visits too repeated to the gin-shop, and got damaged in consequence, had flared up. To put oneself into a passion; to stroll out on a nocturnal frolic, and alarm a neighbourhood, or to create a disturbance in any shape, was to flare up. A lovers' quarrel was a flare up; so was a boxing-match between two blackguards in the streets, and the preachers of sedition and revolution recommended the English nation to flare up, like the French. So great a favourite was the word, that people loved to repeat it for its very sound. They delighted apparently in hearing their own organs articulate it; and labouring men, when none who could respond to the call were within hearing, would often startle the aristocratic echoes of the West by the well-known slang phrase of the East. Even in the dead hours of the night, the ears of those who watched late, or who could not sleep, were saluted with the same sound. The drunkard reeling home showed that he was still a man and a citizen, by calling 'flare up' in the pauses of his hiccough. Drink had deprived him of the power of arranging all other ideas; his intellect was sunk to the level of the brute's; but he clung to humanity by the one last link of the popular cry. While he could vociferate that sound, he had rights as an Englishman, and would not sleep in a gutter, like a dog! Onwards he went, disturbing quiet streets and comfortable people by his whoop, till exhausted nature could support him no more, and he rolled powerless into the road. When, in due time afterwards, the policeman stumbled upon him as he lay, that guardian of the peace turned the full light of his lantern on his face, and exclaimed, 'Here's a poor devil who's been flaring up!' Then came the stretcher, on which the victim of deep potations was carried to the watchhouse, and pitched into a dirty cell, among a score of wretches about as far gone as himself, who saluted their new comrade by a loud, long shout of 'flare up!'

So universal was this phrase, and so enduring seemed its popularity, that a speculator, who knew not the evanescence of slang, established a weekly newspaper under its name. But he was like the man who built his house upon the sand; his foundation gave way under him, and the phrase and the newspaper were washed into the mighty sea of the things that were. The people grew at last weary of the monotony, and 'flare up' became vulgar even among them. Gradually it was left to little boys who did not know the world, and in process of time sank altogether into neglect. It is now heard no more as a piece of popular slang; but the words are still used to signify any sudden outburst either of fire, disturbance, or illnature.

The next phrase that enjoyed the favour of the million was less concise, and seems to have been originally aimed against precocious youths who gave themselves the airs of manhood before their time. 'Does your mother know you're out?' was the provoking query addressed to young men of more than reasonable swagger, who smoked cigars in the streets, and wore false whiskers to look irresistible. We have seen many a conceited fellow who could not suffer a woman to pass him without staring her out of countenance, reduced at once into his natural insignificance by the mere utterance of this phrase. Apprentice lads and shopmen in their Sunday clothes held the words in abhorrence, and looked fierce when they were applied to them. Altogether the phrase had a very salutary effect, and in a thousand instances showed young Vanity, that it was not half so pretty and engaging as it thought itself. What rendered it so provoking was the doubt it implied as to the capability of self-guidance possessed by the individual to whom it was addressed. 'Does your mother know you're out?' was a query of mock concern and solicitude, implying regret and concern that one so young and inexperienced in the ways of a great city should be allowed to wander abroad without the guidance of a parent. Hence the great wrath of those who verged on manhood, but had not reached it, whenever they were made the subject of it. Even older heads did not like it; and the heir of a ducal house, and inheritor of a warrior's name, to whom they were applied by a cabriolet driver, who was ignorant of his rank, was so indignant at the affront, that he summoned the offender before the magisterial bench. The fellow had wished to impose upon his Lordship by asking double the fare he was entitled to, and when his Lordship resisted the demand, he was insultingly asked 'if his mother knew he was out?' All the drivers on the stand joined in the query, and his Lordship was fain to escape their laughter by walking away with as much haste as his dignity would allow. The man pleaded ignorance that his customer was a Lord, but offended justice fined him for his mistake.

When this phrase had numbered its appointed days, it died away, like its predecessors, and 'Who are you?' reigned in its stead. This new favourite, like a mushroom, seems to have sprung up in a night, or, like a frog in Cheapside, to have come down in a sudden shower. One day it was unheard, unknown, uninvented; the next it pervaded London; every alley resounded with it; every highway was musical with it,

And street to street, and lane to lane flung back

The one unvarying cry.

The phrase was uttered quickly, and with a sharp sound upon the first and last words, leaving the middle one little more than an aspiration. Like all its compeers which had been extensively popular, it was applicable to almost every variety of circumstance. The lovers of a plain answer to a plain question did not like it at all. Insolence made use of it to give offence; ignorance, to avoid exposing itself; and waggery, to create laughter. Every new comer into an alehouse tap-room was asked unceremoniously, 'Who are you?' and if he looked foolish, scratched his head, and did not know what to reply, shouts of boisterous merriment resounded on every side. An authoritative disputant was not infrequently put down, and presumption of every kind checked by the same query. When its popularity was at its height, a gentleman, feeling the hand of a thief in his pocket, turned suddenly round, and caught him in the act, exclaiming, 'Who are you?' The mob which gathered round applauded to the very echo, and thought it the most capital joke they had ever heard — the very acme of wit — the very essence of humour. Another circumstance, of a similar kind, gave an additional fillip to the phrase, and infused new life and vigour into it, just as it was dying away. The scene occurred in the chief criminal court of the kingdom. A prisoner stood at the bar; the offence with which he had been charged was clearly proved against him; his counsel had been heard, not in his defence, but in extenuation, insisting upon his previous good life and character, as reasons for the lenity of the court. 'And where are your witnesses?' enquired the learned judge who presided. 'Please you, my Lord, I knows the prisoner at the bar, and a more honester feller never breathed,' said a rough voice in the gallery. The officers of the court looked aghast, and the strangers tittered with ill-suppressed laughter. 'Who are you?' said the Judge, looking suddenly up, but with imperturbable gravity. The court was convulsed; the titter broke out into a laugh, and it was several minutes before silence and decorum could be restored. When the Ushers recovered their self-possession, they made diligent search for the profane transgressor; but he was not to be found. Nobody knew him; nobody had seen him. After a while the business of the court again proceeded. The next prisoner brought up for trial augured favourably of his prospects when he learned that the solemn lips of the representative of justice had uttered the popular phrase as if he felt and appreciated it. There was no fear that such a judge would use undue severity; his heart was with the people; he understood their language and their manners, and would make allowances for the temptations which drove them into crime. So thought many of the prisoners, if we may infer it from the fact, that the learned judge suddenly acquired an immense increase of popularity. The praise of his wit was in every mouth, and 'Who are you?' renewed its lease, and remained in possession of public favour for another term in consequence.

But it must not be supposed that there were no interregna between the dominion of one slang phrase and another. They did not arise in one long line of unbroken succession, but shared with song the possession of popular favour. Thus, when the people were in the mood for music, slang advanced its claims to no purpose, and, when they were inclined for slang, the sweet voice of music wooed them in vain. About twenty years ago London resounded with one chorus, with the love of which everybody seemed to be smitten. Girls and boys, young men and old, maidens and wives, and widows, were all alike musical. There was an absolute mania for singing, and the worst of it was, that, like good Father Philip, in the romance of The Monastery, they seemed utterly unable to change their tune. 'Cherry ripe!' 'Cherry ripe!' was the universal cry of all the idle in the town. Every unmelodious voice gave utterance to it; every crazy fiddle, every cracked flute, every wheezy pipe, every street organ was heard in the same strain, until studious and quiet men stopped their ears in desperation, or fled miles away into the fields or woodlands, to be at peace. This plague lasted for a twelvemonth, until the very name of cherries became an abomination in the land. At last the excitement wore itself away, and the tide of favour set in a new direction. Whether it was another song or a slang phrase, is difficult to determine at this distance of time; but certain it is, that very shortly afterwards, people went mad upon a dramatic subject, and nothing was to be heard of but 'Tom and Jerry'. Verbal wit had amused the multitude long enough, and they became more practical in their recreation. Every youth on the town was seized with the fierce desire of distinguishing himself, by knocking down the 'charlies', being locked up all night in a watchhouse, or kicking up a row among loose women and blackguard men in the low dens of St Giles's. Imitative boys vied with their elders in similar exploits, until this unworthy passion, for such it was, had lasted, like other follies, its appointed time, and the town became merry after another fashion. It was next thought the height of vulgar wit to answer all questions by placing the point of the thumb upon the tip of the nose, and twirling the fingers in the air. If one man wished to insult or annoy another, he had only to make use of this cabalistic sign in his face, and his object was accomplished. At every street corner where a group was assembled, the spectator who was curious enough to observe their movements, would be sure to see the fingers of some of them at their noses, either as a mark of incredulity, surprise, refusal, or mockery, before he had watched two minutes. There is some remnant of this absurd custom to be seen to this day; but it is thought low, even among the vulgar.

About sixteen years ago, London became again most preposterously musical. The vox populi wore itself hoarse by singing the praises of 'The Sea, the Sea!' If a stranger (and a philosopher) had walked through London, and listened to the universal chorus, he might have constructed a very pretty theory upon the love of the English for the sea-service, and our acknowledged superiority over all other nations upon that element. 'No wonder,' he might have said, 'that this people is invincible upon the ocean. The love of it mixes with their daily thoughts: they celebrate it even in the market-place: their street-minstrels excite charity by it; and high and low, young and old, male and female, chant 'Io poeans' in its praise. Love is not honoured in the national songs of this warlike race — Bacchus is no god to them; they are men of sterner mould, and think only of "the Sea, the Sea!" and the means of conquering upon it.'

Such would, doubtless, have been his impression if he had taken the evidence only of his ears. Alas! in those days for the refined ears that were musical! great was their torture when discord, with its thousand diversities of tone, struck up this appalling anthem — there was no escape from it. The migratory minstrels of Savoy caught the strain, and pealed it down the long vistas of quiet streets, till their innermost and snuggest apartments reechoed with the sound. Men were obliged to endure this crying evil for full six months, wearied to desperation, and made seasick on the dry land.

Several other songs sprang up in due succession afterwards, but none of them, with the exception of one, entitled 'All round my Hat', enjoyed any extraordinary share of favour, until an American actor introduced a vile song called 'Jim Crow'. The singer sang his verses in appropriate costume, with grotesque gesticulations, and a sudden whirl of his body at the close of each verse. It took the taste of the town immediately, and for months the ears of orderly people were stunned by the senseless chorus:

Turn about and wheel about,

And do just so —

Turn about and wheel about,

And jump, Jim Crow!

Street-minstrels blackened their faces in order to give proper effect to the verses; and fatherless urchins, who had to choose between thieving and singing for their livelihood, took the latter course, as likely to be the more profitable, as long as the public taste remained in that direction. The uncouth dance, its accompaniment, might be seen in its full perfection on market nights in any great thoroughfare; and the words of the song might be heard, piercing above all the din and buzz of the ever-moving multitude. He, the calm observer, who, during the heyday popularity of this doggerel,

Sat beside the public way,

Thick strewn with summer dust, and saw the stream

Of people there was hurrying to and fro,

Numerous as gnats upon the evening gleam,

might have exclaimed with Shelley, whose fine lines we quote, that

The million, with fierce song and maniac dance,

Did rage around.

The philosophic theorist we have already supposed soliloquising upon the English character, and forming his opinion of it from their exceeding love for a sea-song, might, if he had again dropped suddenly into London, have formed another very plausible theory to account for our unremitting efforts for the abolition of the Slave Trade. 'Benevolent people!' he might have said, 'how unbounded are your sympathies! Your unhappy brethren of Africa, differing from you only in the colour of their skins, are so dear to you, and you begrudge so little the twenty millions you have paid on their behalf, that you love to have a memento of them continually in your sight. Jim Crow is the representative of that injured race, and as such is the idol of your populace! See how they all sing his praises! — how they imitate his peculiarities! — how they repeat his name in their moments of leisure and relaxation! They even carve images of him to adorn their hearths, that his cause and his sufferings may never be forgotten! Oh, philanthropic England! — oh, vanguard of civilisation!'

Such are a few of the peculiarities of the London multitude, when no riot, no execution, no murder, no balloon, disturbs the even current of their thoughts. These are the whimseys of the mass — the harmless follies by which they unconsciously endeavour to lighten the load of care which presses upon their existence. The wise man, even though he smile at them, will not altogether withhold his sympathy, and will say, 'Let them enjoy their slang phrases and their choruses if they will; and if they cannot be happy, at least let them be merry.' To the Englishman, as well as to the Frenchman of whom Beranger sings, there may be some comfort in so small a thing as a song, and we may, own with him that

Au peuple attriste

Ce qui rendra la gaîté,

C'est la GAUDRIOLE!

O gué!

C'est la GAUDRIOLE!'

2
The South-Sea Bubble

At length corruption, like a general flood,

Did deluge all, and avarice creeping on,

Spread, like a low-born mist, and hid the sun.

Statesmen and patriots plied alike the stocks,

Peeress and butler shared alike the box;

And judges jobbed, and bishops bit the town,

And mighty dukes packed cards for half a crown:

Britain was sunk in lucre's sordid charms.

Pope

The South-Sea Company was originated by the celebrated Harley, Earl of Oxford, in the year 1711, with the view of restoring public credit, which had suffered by the dismissal of the Whig ministry, and of providing for the discharge of the army and navy debentures, and other parts of the floating debt, amounting to nearly ten millions sterling. A company of merchants, at that time without a name, took this debt upon themselves, and the government agreed to secure them, for a certain period, the interest of six per cent. To provide for this interest, amounting to £600,000 per annum, the duties upon wines, vinegar, India goods, wrought silks, tobacco, whale-fins, and some other articles, were rendered permanent. The monopoly of the trade to the South Seas was granted, and the company, being incorporated by Act of Parliament, assumed the title by which it has ever since been known. The minister took great credit to himself for his share in this transaction, and the scheme was always called by his flatterers 'the Earl of Oxford's masterpiece'.

Even at this early period of its history, the most visionary ideas were formed by the company and the public of the immense riches of the western coast of South America. Everybody had heard of the gold and silver mines of Peru and Mexico; everyone believed them to be inexhaustible, and that it was only necessary to send the manufactures of England to the coast, to be repaid a hundredfold in gold and silver ingots by the natives. A report, industriously spread, that Spain was willing to concede four ports, on the coasts of Chile and Peru for the purposes of traffic, increased the general confidence, and for many years the South-Sea Company's stock was in high favour.

Philip V of Spain, however, never had any intention of admitting the English to a free trade in the ports of Spanish America. Negotiations were set on foot, but their only result was the assiento contract, or the privilege of supplying the colonies with Negroes for thirty years, and of sending once a year a vessel, limited both as to tonnage and value of cargo, to trade with Mexico, Peru, or Chile. The latter permission was only granted upon the hard condition, that the King of Spain should enjoy one-fourth of the profits, and a tax of five per cent on the remainder. This was a great disappointment to the Earl of Oxford and his party, who were reminded much oftener than they found agreeable of the 'Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus'. But the public confidence in the South-Sea Company was not shaken. The Earl of Oxford declared that Spain would permit two ships, in addition to the annual ship, to carry out merchandise during the first year; and a list was published, in which all the ports and harbours of these coasts were pompously set forth as open to the trade of Great Britain. The first voyage of the annual ship was not made till the year 1717, and in the following year the trade was suppressed by the rupture with Spain.

The king's speech, at the opening of the session of 1717, made pointed allusion to the state of public credit, and recommended that proper measures should be taken to reduce the national debt. The two great monetary corporations, the South-Sea Company and the Bank of England, made proposals to parliament on the 20th of May ensuing. The South-Sea Company prayed that their capital stock of ten millions might be increased to twelve, by subscription or otherwise, and offered to accept five per cent instead of six upon the whole amount. The bank made proposals equally advantageous. The house debated for some time, and finally three acts were passed, called the South-Sea Act, the Bank Act, and the General Fund Act. By the first, the proposals of the South-Sea Company were accepted, and that body held itself ready to advance the sum of two millions towards discharging the principal and interest of the debt due by the state for the four lottery funds of the ninth and tenth years of Queen Anne. By the second act, the bank received a lower rate of interest for the sum of £1,775,027 15s. due to it by the state, and agreed to deliver up to be cancelled as many exchequer bills as amounted to two millions sterling, and to accept of an annuity of one hundred thousand pounds, being after the rate of five per cent, the whole redeemable at one year's notice. They were further required to be ready to advance, in case of need, a sum not exceeding £2,500,000 upon the same terms of five per cent interest, redeemable by parliament. The General Fund Act recited the various deficiencies, which were to be made good by the aids derived from the foregoing sources.

The name of the South-Sea Company was thus continually before the public. Though their trade with the South American States produced little or no augmentation of their revenues, they continued to flourish as a monetary corporation. Their stock was in high request, and the directors, buoyed up with success, began to think of new means for extending their influence. The Mississippi scheme of John Law, which so dazzled and captivated the French people, inspired them with an idea that they could carry on the same game in England. The anticipated failure of his plans did not divert them from their intention. Wise in their own conceit, they imagined they could avoid his faults, carry on their schemes for ever, and stretch the cord of credit to its extremest tension, without causing it to snap asunder.

It was while Law's plan was at its greatest height of popularity, while people were crowding in thousands to the Rue Quincampoix, and ruining themselves with frantic eagerness, that the South-Sea directors laid before parliament their famous plan for paying off the national debt. Visions of boundless wealth floated before the fascinated eyes of the people in the two most celebrated countries of Europe. The English commenced their career of extravagance somewhat later than the French; but as soon as the delirium seized them, they were determined not to be outdone. Upon the 22nd of January, 1720, the House of Commons resolved itself into a committee of the whole house, to take into consideration that part of the king's speech at the opening of the session which related to the public debts, and the proposal of the SouthSea Company towards the redemption and sinking of the same. The proposal set forth at great length, and under several heads, the debts of the state, amounting to £30,981,712 which the company were anxious to take upon themselves, upon consideration of five per cent per annum, secured to them until Midsummer 1727; after which time, the whole was to become redeemable at the pleasure of the legislature, and the interest to be reduced to four per cent. The proposal was received with great favour; but the Bank of England had many friends in the House of Commons, who were desirous that that body should share in the advantages that were likely to accrue. On behalf of this corporation it was represented, that they had performed great and eminent services to the state in the most difficult times, and deserved, at least, that if any advantage was to be made by public bargains of this nature, they should be preferred before a company that had never done anything for the nation. The further consideration of the matter was accordingly postponed for five days. In the mean time, a plan was drawn up by the governors of the bank. The South-Sea Company, afraid that the bank might offer still more advantageous terms to the government than themselves, reconsidered their former proposal, and made some alterations in it, which they hoped would render it more acceptable. The principal change was a stipulation that the government might redeem these debts at the expiration of four years, instead of seven, as at first suggested. The bank resolved not to be outbidden in this singular auction, and the governors also reconsidered their first proposal, and sent in a new one.

Thus, each corporation having made two proposals, the house began to deliberate. Mr Robert Walpole was the chief speaker in favour of the bank, and Mr Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the principal advocate on behalf of the South-Sea Company. It was resolved, on the 2nd of February, that the proposals of the latter were most advantageous to the country. They were accordingly received, and leave was given to bring in a bill to that effect.

Exchange Alley was in a fever of excitement. The company's stock, which had been at a hundred and thirty the previous day, gradually rose to three hundred, and continued to rise with the most astonishing rapidity during the whole time that the bill in its several stages was under discussion. Mr Walpole was almost the only statesman in the house who spoke out boldly against it. He warned them, in eloquent and solemn language, of the evils that would ensue. It countenanced, he said, 'the dangerous practice of stock-jobbing, and would divert the genius of the nation from trade and industry. It would hold out a dangerous lure to decoy the unwary to their ruin, by making them part with the earnings of their labour for a prospect of imaginary wealth. The great principle of the project was an evil of first-rate magnitude; it was to raise artificially the value of the stock, by exciting and keeping up a general infatuation, and by promising dividends out of funds which could never be adequate to the purpose.' In a prophetic spirit he added, that if the plan succeeded, the directors would become masters of the government, form a new and absolute aristocracy in the kingdom, and control the resolutions of the legislature. If it failed, which he was convinced it would, the result would bring general discontent and ruin upon the country. Such would be the delusion, that when the evil day came, as come it would, the people would start up, as from a dream, and ask themselves if these things could have been true. All his eloquence was in vain. He was looked upon as a false prophet, or compared to the hoarse raven, croaking omens of evil. His friends, however, compared him to Cassandra, predicting evils which would only be believed when they came home to men's hearths, and stared them in the face at their own boards. Although, in former times, the house had listened with the utmost attention to every word that fell from his lips, the benches became deserted when it was known that he would speak on the South-Sea question.

The bill was two months in its progress through the House of Commons. During this time every exertion was made by the directors and their friends, and more especially by the chairman, the noted Sir John Blunt, to raise the price of the stock. The most extravagant rumours were in circulation. Treaties between England and Spain were spoken of, whereby the latter was to grant a free trade to all her colonies; and the rich produce of the mines of Potosi-la-Paz was to be brought to England until silver should become almost as plentiful as iron. For cotton and woollen goods, with which we could supply them in abundance, the dwellers in Mexico were to empty their golden mines. The company of merchants trading to the South Seas would be the richest the world ever saw, and every hundred pounds invested in it would produce hundreds per annum to the stockholder. At last the stock was raised by these means to near four hundred; but, after fluctuating a good deal, settled at three hundred and thirty, at which price it remained when the bill passed the Commons by a majority of 172 against 55.

In the House of Lords the bill was hurried through all its stages with unexampled rapidity. On the 4th of April it was read a first time; on the 5th, it was read a second time; on the 6th, it was committed; and on the 7th, was read a third time and passed.

Several peers spoke warmly against the scheme; but their warnings fell upon dull, cold ears. A speculating frenzy had seized them as well as the plebeians. Lord North and Grey said the bill was unjust in its nature, and might prove fatal in its consequences, being calculated to enrich the few and impoverish the many. The Duke of Wharton followed; but, as he only retailed at second-hand the arguments so eloquently stated by Walpole in the Lower House, he was not listened to with even the same attention that had been bestowed upon Lord North and Grey. Earl Cowper followed on the same side, and compared the bill to the famous horse of the siege of Troy. Like that, it was ushered in and received with great pomp and acclamations of joy, but bore within it treachery and destruction. The Earl of Sunderland endeavoured to answer all objections; and on the question being put, there appeared only seventeen peers against, and eighty-three in favour of the project. The very same day on which it passed the Lords, it received the Royal assent, and became the law of the land.

It seemed at that time as if the whole nation had turned stock-jobbers. Exchange Alley was every day blocked up by crowds, and Cornhill was impassable for the number of carriages. Everybody came to purchase stock. 'Every fool aspired to be a knave.' In the words of a ballad, published at the time, and sung about the streets,

Then stars and garters did appear

Among the meaner rabble;

To buy and sell, to see and hear

The Jews and Gentiles squabble.

The greatest ladies thither came,

And plied in chariots daily,

Or pawned their jewels for a sum

The inordinate thirst of gain that had afflicted all ranks of society was not to be slaked even in the South Sea. Other schemes, of the most extravagant kind, were started. The share-lists were speedily filled up, and an enormous traffic carried on in shares, while, of course, every means were resorted to to raise them to an artificial value in the market.

Contrary to all expectation, South-Sea stock fell when the bill received the royal assent. On the 7th of April the shares were quoted at three hundred and ten, and on the following day at two hundred and ninety. Already the directors had tasted the profits of their scheme, and it was not likely that they should quietly allow the stock to find its natural level, without an effort to raise it. Immediately their busy emissaries were set to work. Every person interested in the success of the project endeavoured to draw a knot of listeners around him, to whom he expatiated on the treasures of the South American seas. Exchange Alley was crowded with attentive groups. One rumour alone, asserted with the utmost confidence, had an immediate effect upon the stock. It was said that Earl Stanhope had received overtures in France from the Spanish Government to exchange Gibraltar and Port Mahon for some places on the coast of Peru, for the security and enlargement of the trade in the South Seas. Instead of one annual ship trading to those ports, and allowing the king of Spain twenty-five per cent out of the profits, the company might build and charter as many ships as they pleased, and pay no percentage whatever to any foreign potentate. 'Visions of ingots danced before their eyes', and stock rose rapidly. On the 12th of April, five days after the bill had become law, the directors opened their books for a subscription of a million, at the rate of £300 for every £100 capital. Such was the concourse of persons of all ranks, that this first subscription was found to amount to above two millions of original stock. It was to be paid at five payments, of £60 each for every £100. In a few days the stock advanced to three hundred and forty, and the subscriptions were sold for double the price of the first payment. To raise the stock still higher, it was declared, in a general court of directors, on the 21st of April, that the midsummer dividend should be ten per cent, and that all subscriptions should be entitled to the same. These resolutions answering the end designed, the directors, to improve the infatuation of the monied men, opened their books for a second subscription of a million, at four hundred per cent. Such was the frantic eagerness of people of every class to speculate in these funds, that in the course of a few hours no less than a million and a half was subscribed at that rate.

In the mean time, innumerable joint-stock companies started up everywhere. They soon received the name of Bubbles, the most appropriate that imagination could devise. The populace are often most happy in the nicknames they employ. None could be more apt than that of Bubbles. Some of them lasted for a week, or a fortnight, and were no more heard of, while others could not even live out that short span of existence. Every evening produced new schemes, and every morning new projects. The highest of the aristocracy were as eager in this hot pursuit of gain as the most plodding jobber in Cornhill. The Prince of Wales became governor of one company, and is said to have cleared £40,000 by his speculations. The Duke of Bridgewater started a scheme for the improvement of London and Westminster, and the Duke of Chandos another. There were nearly a hundred different projects, each more extravagant and deceptive than the other. To use the words of the Political State, they were 'set on foot and promoted by crafty knaves, then pursued by multitudes of covetous fools, and at last appeared to be, in effect, what their vulgar appellation denoted them to be — bubbles and mere cheats'. It was computed that near one million and a half sterling was won and lost by these unwarrantable practices, to the impoverishment of many a fool, and the enriching of many a rogue.

Some of these schemes were plausible enough, and, had they been undertaken at a time when the public mind was unexcited, might have been pursued with advantage to all concerned. But they were established merely with the view of raising the shares in the market. The projectors took the first opportunity of a rise to sell out, and next morning the scheme was at an end. Maitland, in his History of London, gravely informs us, that one of the projects which received great encouragement, was for the establishment of a company 'to make deal boards out of sawdust'. This is no doubt intended as a joke; but there is abundance of evidence to show that dozens of schemes, hardly a whit more reasonable, lived their little day, ruining hundreds ere they fell. One of them was for a wheel for perpetual motion — capital, one million; another was 'for encouraging the breed of horses in England, and improving of glebe and church lands, and repairing and rebuilding parsonage and vicarage houses'. Why the clergy, who were so mainly interested in the latter clause, should have taken so much interest in the first, is only to be explained on the supposition that the scheme was projected by a knot of the foxhunting parsons, once so common in England. The shares of this company were rapidly subscribed for. But the most absurd and preposterous of all, and which showed, more completely than any other, the utter madness of the people, was one started by an unknown adventurer, entitled 'A company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is'. Were not the fact stated by scores of credible witnesses, it would be impossible to believe that any person could have been duped by such a project. The man of genius who essayed this bold and successful inroad upon public credulity, merely stated in his prospectus that the required capital was half a million, in five thousand shares of £100 each, deposit £2 per share. Each subscriber, paying his deposit, would be entitled to £100 per annum per share. How this immense profit was to be obtained, he did not condescend to inform them at that time, but promised that in a month full particulars should be duly announced, and a call made for the remaining £98 of the subscription. Next morning, at nine o'clock, this great man opened an office in Cornhill. Crowds of people beset his door, and when he shut up at three o'clock, he found that no less than one thousand shares had been subscribed for, and the deposits paid. He was thus, in five hours, the winner of £2,000. He was philosopher enough to be contented with his venture, and set off the same evening for the Continent. He was never heard of again.

Well might Swift exclaim, comparing Change Alley to a gulf in the South Sea:

Subscribers here by thousands float,

And jostle one another down,

Each paddling in his leaky boat,

And here they fish for gold, and drown.

Now buried in the depths below,

Now mounted up to heaven again,

They reel and stagger to and fro,

At their wit's end, like drunken men.

Meantime, secure on Garraway cliffs,

A savage race, by shipwrecks fed,

Lie waiting for the foundered skiffs,

And strip the bodies of the dead.

Another fraud that was very successful was that of the 'Globe Permits', as they were called. They were nothing more than square pieces of playing-cards, on which was the impression of a seal, in wax, bearing the sign of the Globe Tavern, in the neighbourhood of Exchange Alley, with the inscription of 'Sail-Cloth Permits'. The possessors enjoyed no other advantage from them than permission to subscribe at some future time to a new sail-cloth manufactory, projected by one who was then known to be a man of fortune, but who was afterwards involved in the peculation and punishment of the South-Sea directors. These permits sold for as much as sixty guineas in the Alley.

Persons of distinction, of both sexes, were deeply engaged in all these bubbles; those of the male sex going to taverns and coffee-houses to meet their brokers, and the ladies resorting for the same purpose to the shops of milliners and haberdashers. But it did not follow that all these people believed in the feasibility of the schemes to which they subscribed; it was enough for their purpose that their shares would, by stock-jobbing arts, be soon raised to a premium, when they got rid of them with all expedition to the really credulous. So great was the confusion of the crowd in the alley, that shares in the same bubble were known to have been sold at the same instant ten per cent higher at one end of the alley than at the other. Sensible men beheld the extraordinary infatuation of the people with sorrow and alarm. There were some both in and out of parliament who foresaw clearly the ruin that was impending. Mr Walpole did not cease his gloomy forebodings. His fears were shared by all the thinking few, and impressed most forcibly upon the government. On the 11th of June, the day the parliament rose, the king published a proclamation, declaring that all these unlawful projects should be deemed public nuisances, and prosecuted accordingly, and forbidding any broker, under a penalty of five hundred pounds, from buying or selling any shares in them. Notwithstanding this proclamation, roguish speculators still carried them on, and the deluded people still encouraged them. On the 12th of July, an order of the Lords Justices assembled in privy council was published, dismissing all the petitions that had been presented for patents and charters, and dissolving all the bubble companies. The following copy of their lordships' order, containing a list of all these nefarious projects, will not be deemed uninteresting at the present day, when there is but too much tendency in the public mind to indulge in similar practices:

At the Council Chamber, Whitehall, the 12th day of July, 1720.

Present, their Excellencies the Lords Justices in Council.

Their Excellencies, the Lords Justices, in council, taking into consideration the many inconveniences arising to the public from several projects set on foot for raising of joint-stock for various purposes, and that a great many of his Majesty's subjects have been drawn in to part with their money on pretence of assurances that their petitions for patents and charters, to enable them to carry on the same, would be granted: to prevent such impositions, their excellencies this day ordered the said several petitions, together with such reports from the Board of Trade, and from his majesty's attorney and solicitorgeneral, as had been obtained thereon, to be laid before them; and after mature consideration thereof, were pleased, by advice of his majesty's privy council, to order that the said petitions be dismissed, which are as follow:

1. Petition of several persons, praying letters patent for carrying on a fishing trade, by the name of the Grand Fishery of Great Britain.

2. Petition of the Company of the Royal Fishery of England, praying letters patent for such further powers as will effectually contribute to carry on the said fishery.

3. Petition of George James, on behalf of himself and divers persons of distinction concerned in a national fishery, praying letters patent of incorporation to enable them to carry on the same.

4. Petition of several merchants, traders, and others, whose names are thereunto subscribed, praying to be incorporated for reviving and carrying on a whale fishery to Greenland and elsewhere.

5. Petition of Sir John Lambert, and others thereto subscribing, on behalf of themselves and a great number of merchants, praying to be incorporated for carrying on a Greenland trade, and particularly a whale fishery in Davis's Straits.

6. Another petition for a Greenland trade.

7. Petition of several merchants, gentlemen, and citizens, praying to be incorporated for buying and building of ships to let or freight.

8. Petition of Samuel Antrim and others, praying for letters patent for sowing hemp and flax.

9. Petition of several merchants, masters of ships, sail-makers, and manufacturers of sail-cloth, praying a charter of incorporation, to enable them to carry on and promote the said manufactory by a joint-stock.

10. Petition of Thomas Boyd, and several hundred merchants, owners and masters of ships, sail-makers, weavers, and other traders, praying a charter of incorporation, empowering them to borrow money for purchasing lands, in order to the manufacturing sail-cloth and fine Holland.

11. Petition on behalf of several persons interested in a patent granted by the late King William and Queen Mary, for the making of linen and sail-cloth, praying that no charter may be granted to any persons whatsoever for making sail-cloth, but that the privilege now enjoyed by them may be confirmed, and likewise an additional power to carry on the cotton and cotton-silk manufactures.

12. Petition of several citizens, merchants, and traders in London, and others, subscribers to a British stock for a general insurance from fire in any part of England, praying to be incorporated for carrying on the said undertaking.

13. Petition of several of his majesty's loyal subjects of the city of London and other parts of Great Britain, praying to be incorporated for carrying on a general insurance from losses by fire within the kingdom of England.

14. Petition of Thomas Burges, and others his majesty's subjects thereto subscribing, in behalf of themselves and others, subscribers to a fund of £1,200,000 for carrying on a trade to his majesty's German dominions, praying to be incorporated, by the name of the Harburg Company.

15. Petition of Edward Jones, a dealer in timber, on behalf of himself and others, praying to be incorporated for the importation of timber from Germany.

16. Petition of several merchants of London, praying a charter of incorporation for carrying on a salt-work.

17. Petition of Captain Macphedris of London, merchant, on behalf of himself and several merchants, clothiers, hatters, dyers, and other traders, praying a charter of incorporation empowering them to raise a sufficient sum of money to purchase lands for planting and rearing a wood called madder, for the use of dyers.

18. Petition of Joseph Galendo of London, snuffmaker, praying a patent for his invention to prepare and cure Virginia tobacco for snuff in Virginia, and making it into the same in all his majesty's dominions.

LIST OF BUBBLES

The following Bubble Companies were by the same order declared to be illegal, and abolished accordingly:

1. For the importation of Swedish iron.

2. For supplying London with sea-coal. Capital, three millions.

3. For building and rebuilding houses throughout all England. Capital, three millions.

4. For making of muslin.

5. For carrying on and improving British alum-works.

6. For effectually settling the island of Blanco and Sal Targatus.

7. For supplying the town of Deal with fresh water.

8. For the importation of Flanders lace.

9. For improvement in lands of Great Britain. Capital, four millions.

10. For encouraging the breed of horses in England, and improving the glebe and church lands, and for repairing and rebuilding parsonage and vicarage houses.

11. For making of iron and steel in Great Britain.

12. For improving the land in the county of Flint. Capital, one million.

13. For purchasing lands to build on. Capital, two millions.

14. For trading in hair.

15. For erecting salt-works in holy Island. Capital, two millions.

16. For buying and selling estates, and lending money on mortgage.

17. For carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is.

18. For paving the streets of London. Capital, two millions.

19. For furnishing funerals to any part of Great Britain.

20. For buying and selling lands and lending money at interest. Capital, five millions.

21. For carrying on the Royal Fishery of Great Britain. Capital, ten millions.

22. For assuring of seamen's wages.

23. For erecting loan-offices for the assistance and encouragement of the industrious. Capital, two millions.

24. For purchasing and improving leasable lands. Capital, four millions.

25. For importing pitch and tar, and other naval stores, from North Britain and America.

26. For the clothing, felt, and pantile trade.

27. For purchasing and improving a manor and royalty in Essex.

28. For insuring of horses. Capital, two millions.

29. For exporting the woollen manufacture, and importing copper, brass, and iron. Capital, four millions.

30. For a grand dispensary. Capital, three millions.

31. For erecting mills and purchasing lead mines. Capital, two millions.

32. For improving the art of making soap.

33. For a settlement on the island of Santa Cruz.

34. For sinking pits and smelting lead ore in Derbyshire.

35. For making glass bottles and other glass.

36. For a wheel for perpetual motion. Capital, one million.

37. For improving of gardens.

38. For insuring and increasing children's fortunes.

39. For entering and loading goods at the Customhouse, and for negotiating business for merchants.

40. For carrying on a woollen manufacture in the north of England.

41. For importing walnut trees from Virginia. Capital, two millions.

42. For making Manchester stuffs of thread and cotton.

43. For making Joppa and Castile soap.

44. For improving the wrought-iron and steel manufactures of this kingdom. Capital, four millions.

45. For dealing in lace, hollands, cambrics, lawns, &amp;c. Capital, two millions.

46. For trading in and improving certain commodities of the produce of this kingdom, &c. Capital, three millions.

47. For supplying the London markets with cattle.

48. For making looking-glasses, coach glasses, &c. Capital, two millions.

49. For working the tin and lead mines in Cornwall and Derbyshire.

50. For making rape-oil.

51. For importing beaver fur. Capital, two millions.

52. For making pasteboard and packing-paper.

53. For importing of oils and other materials used in the woollen manufacture.

54. For improving and increasing the silk manufactures.

55. For lending money on stock, annuities, tallies, &c.

56. For paying pensions to widows and others, at a small discount. Capital, two millions.

57. For improving malt liquors. Capital, four millions.

58. For a grand American fishery.

59. For purchasing and improving the fenny lands in Lincolnshire. Capital, two millions.

60. For improving the paper manufacture of Great Britain.

61. The Bottomry Company.

62. For drying malt by hot air.

63. For carrying on a trade in the river Oronooko.

64. For the more effectual making of baize, in Colchester and other parts of Great Britain.

65. For buying of naval stores, supplying the victualling, and paying the wages of the workmen.

66. For employing poor artificers, and furnishing merchants and others with watches.

67. For improvement of tillage and the breed of cattle.

68. Another for the improvement of our breed of horses.

69. Another for a horse-insurance.

70. For carrying on the corn trade of Great Britain.

71. For insuring to all masters and mistresses the losses they may sustain by servants. Capital, three millions.

72. For erecting houses or hospitals, for taking in and maintaining illegitimate children. Capital, two millions.

73. For bleaching coarse sugars, without the use of fire or loss of substance.

74. For building turnpikes and wharfs in Great Britain.

75. For insuring from thefts and robberies.

76. For extracting silver from lead.

77. For making china and delft ware. Capital, one million.

78. For importing tobacco, and exporting it again to Sweden and the north of Europe. Capital, four millions.

79. For making iron with pit coal.

80. For furnishing the cities of London and Westminster with hay and straw. Capital, three millions.

81. For a sail and packing-cloth manufactory in Ireland.

82. For taking up ballast.

83. For buying and fitting out ships to suppress pirates.

84. For the importation of timber from Wales. Capital, two millions.

85. For rock-salt.

86. For the transmutation of quicksilver into a malleable fine metal.

Besides these bubbles, many others sprang up daily, in spite of the condemnation of the government and the ridicule of the still sane portion of the public. The printshops teemed with caricatures, and the newspapers with epigrams and satires, upon the prevalent folly. An ingenious card-maker published a pack of South-Sea playingcards, which are now extremely rare, each card containing, besides the usual figures, of a very small size, in one corner, a caricature of a bubble company, with appropriate verses underneath. One of the most famous bubbles was 'Puckle's Machine Company', for discharging round and square cannon-balls and bullets, and making a total revolution in the art of war. Its pretensions to public favour were thus summed up, on the eight of spades:

A rare invention to destroy the crowd

Of fools at home, instead of fools abroad.

Fear not, my friends, this terrible machine,

They're only wounded who have shares therein.

The nine of hearts was a caricature of the English Copper and Brass Company, with the following epigram:

The headlong fool that wants to be a swopper

Of gold and silver coin for English copper,

May, in Change Alley, prove himself an ass,

And give rich metal for adulterate brass.

The eight of diamonds celebrated the company for the colonisation of Acadia, with this doggerel:

He that is rich and wants to fool away

A good round sum in North America,

Let him subscribe himself a headlong sharer,

And asses' ears shall honour him or bearer.

And in a similar style every card of the pack exposed some knavish scheme, and ridiculed the persons who were its dupes. It was computed that the total amount of the sums proposed for carrying on these projects was upwards of three hundred millions sterling.

It is time, however, to return to the great South-Sea gulf, that swallowed the fortunes of so many thousands of the avaricious and the credulous. On the 29th of May, the stock had risen as high as five hundred, and about two-thirds of the government annuitants had exchanged the securities of the state for those of the South-Sea Company. During the whole of the month of May the stock continued to rise, and on the 28th it was quoted at five hundred and fifty. In four days after this it took a prodigious leap, rising suddenly from five hundred and fifty to eight hundred and ninety. It was now the general opinion that the stock could rise no higher, and many persons took that opportunity of selling out, with a view of realising their profits. Many noblemen and persons in the train of the king, and about to accompany him to Hanover, were also anxious to sell out. So many sellers, and so few buyers, appeared in the Alley on the 3rd of June, that the stock fell at once from eight hundred and ninety to six hundred and forty. The directors were alarmed, and gave their agents orders to buy. Their efforts succeeded. Towards evening confidence was restored, and the stock advanced to seven hundred and fifty. It continued at this price, with some slight fluctuation, until the company closed their books on the 22nd of June.

It would be needless and uninteresting to detail the various arts employed by the directors to keep up the price of stock. It will be sufficient to state that it finally rose to one thousand per cent. It was quoted at this price in the commencement of August. The bubble was then full-blown, and began to quiver and shake, preparatory to its bursting.

Many of the government annuitants expressed dissatisfaction against the directors. They accused them of partiality in making out the lists for shares in each subscription. Further uneasiness was occasioned by its being generally known that Sir John Blunt, the chairman, and some others, had sold out. During the whole of the month of August the stock fell, and on the 2nd of September it was quoted at seven hundred only.

The state of things now became alarming. To prevent, if possible, the utter extinction of public confidence in their proceedings, the directors summoned a general court of the whole corporation, to meet in Merchant Tailors' Hall on the 8th of September. By nine o'clock in the morning, the room was filled to suffocation; Cheapside was blocked up by a crowd unable to gain admittance, and the greatest excitement prevailed. The directors and their friends mustered in great numbers. Sir John Fellowes, the sub-governor, was called to the chair. He acquainted the assembly with the cause of their meeting; read to them the several resolutions of the court of directors, and gave them an account of their proceedings; of the taking in the redeemable and unredeemable funds, and of the subscriptions in money. Mr Secretary Craggs then made a short speech, wherein he commended the conduct of the directors, and urged that nothing could more effectually contribute to the bringing this scheme to perfection than union among themselves. He concluded with a motion for thanking the court of directors for their prudent and skilful management, and for desiring them to proceed in such manner as they should think most proper for the interest and advantage of the corporation. Mr Hungerford, who had rendered himself very conspicuous in the House of Commons for his zeal in behalf of the South-Sea Company, and who was shrewdly suspected to have been a considerable gainer by knowing the right time to sell out, was very magniloquent on this occasion. He said that he had seen the rise and fall, the decay and resurrection of many communities of this nature, but that, in his opinion, none had ever performed such wonderful things in so short a time as the South-Sea Company. They had done more than the crown, the pulpit, or the bench could do. They had reconciled all parties in one common interest; they had laid asleep, if not wholly extinguished, all the domestic jars and animosities of the nation. By the rise of their stock, monied men had vastly increased their fortunes; >country gentlemen had seen the value of their lands doubled and trebled in their hands. They had at the same time done good to the Church, not a few of the reverend clergy having got great sums by the project. In short, they had enriched the whole nation, and he hoped they had not forgotten themselves. There was some hissing at the latter part of this speech, which for the extravagance of its eulogy was not far removed from satire; but the directors and their friends, and all the winners in the room, applauded vehemently. The Duke of Portland spoke in a similar strain, and expressed his great wonder why anybody should be dissatisfied: of course, he was a winner by his speculations, and in a condition similar to that of the fat alderman in Joe Miller's Jests, who, whenever he had eaten a good dinner, folded his hands upon his paunch, and expressed his doubts whether there could be a hungry man in the world.

Several resolutions were passed at this meeting, but they had no effect upon the public. Upon the very same evening the stock fell to six hundred and forty, and on the morrow to five hundred and forty. Day after day it continued to fall, until it was as low as four hundred. In a letter, dated September 13th, from Mr Broderick MP to Lord Chancellor Middleton, and published in Coxe's Walpole, the former says: 'Various are the conjectures why the South-Sea directors have suffered the cloud to break so early. I made no doubt but they would do so when they found it to their advantage. They have stretched credit so far beyond what it would bear, that specie proves insufficient to support it. Their most considerable men have drawn out, securing themselves by the losses of the deluded, thoughtless numbers, whose understandings have been overruled by avarice and the hope of making mountains out of molehills. Thousands of families will be reduced to beggary. The consternation is inexpressible — the rage beyond description, and the case altogether so desperate that I do not see any plan or scheme so much as thought of for averting the blow, so that I cannot pretend to guess what is next to be done.' Ten days afterwards, the stock still falling, he writes: 'The company have yet come to no determination, for they are in such a wood that they know not which way to turn. By several gentlemen lately come to town, I perceive the very name of a South-Sea-man grows abominable in every country. A great many goldsmiths are already run off, and more will daily. I question whether one-third, nay, one-fourth, of them can stand it. From the very beginning, I founded my judgement of the whole affair upon the unquestionable maxim, that ten millions (which is more than our running cash) could not circulate two hundred millions, beyond which our paper credit extended. That, therefore, whenever that should become doubtful, be the cause what it would, our noble state machine must inevitably fall to the ground.'

On the 12th of September, at the earnest solicitation of Mr Secretary Craggs, several conferences were held between the directors of the South Sea and the directors of the Bank. A report which was circulated, that the latter had agreed to circulate six millions of the South-Sea Company's bonds, caused the stock to rise to six hundred and seventy; but in the afternoon, as soon as the report was known to be groundless, the stock fell again to five hundred and eighty; the next day to five hundred and seventy, and so gradually to four hundred.〔1〕

The ministry were seriously alarmed at the aspect of affairs. The directors could not appear in the streets without being insulted; dangerous riots were every moment apprehended. Despatches were sent off to the king at Hanover, praying his immediate return. Mr Walpole, who was staying at his country seat, was sent for, that he might employ his known influence with the directors of the Bank of England to induce them to accept the proposal made by the South-Sea Company for circulating a number of their bonds.

The Bank was very unwilling to mix itself up with the affairs of the company; it dreaded being involved in calamities which it could not relieve, and received all overtures with visible reluctance. But the universal voice of the nation called upon it to come to the rescue. Every person of note in commercial politics was called in to advise in the emergency. A rough draft of a contract drawn up by Mr Walpole was ultimately adopted as the basis of further negotiations, and the public alarm abated a little.

On the following day, the 20th of September, a general court of the South-Sea Company was held at Merchant Tailors' Hall, in which resolutions were carried, empowering the directors to agree with the Bank of England, or any other persons, to circulate the company's bonds, or make any other agreement with the bank which they should think proper. One of the speakers, a Mr Pulteney, said it was most surprising to see the extraordinary panic which had seized upon the people. Men were running to and fro in alarm and terror, their imaginations filled with some great calamity, the form and dimensions of which nobody knew:

Black it stood as night —

Fierce as ten furies — terrible as hell.

At a general court of the Bank of England held two days afterwards, the governor informed them of the several meetings that had been held on the affairs of the South-Sea Company, adding that the directors had not yet thought fit to come to any decision upon the matter. A resolution was then proposed, and carried without a dissentient voice, empowering the directors to agree with those of the South Sea to circulate their bonds, to what sum, and upon what terms, and for what time, they might think proper.

Thus both parties were at liberty to act as they might judge best for the public interest. Books were opened at the Bank for a subscription of three millions for the support of public credit, on the usual terms of £15 per cent deposit, £3 per cent premium, and £5 per cent interest. So great was the concourse of people in the early part of the morning, all eagerly bringing their money, that it was thought the subscription would be filled that day; but before noon, the tide turned. In spite of all that could be done to prevent it, the South-Sea Company's stock fell rapidly. Their bonds were in such discredit, that a run commenced upon the most eminent goldsmiths and bankers, some of whom having lent out great sums upon South-Sea stock were obliged to shut up their shops and abscond. The Sword-blade Company, who had hitherto been the chief cashiers of the South-Sea Company, stopped payment. This being looked upon as but the beginning of evil, occasioned a great run upon the Bank, who were now obliged to pay out money much faster than they had received it upon the subscription in the morning. The day succeeding was a holiday (the 29th of September), and the Bank had a little breathing time. They bore up against the storm; but their former rivals, the South-Sea Company, were wrecked upon it. Their stock fell to one hundred and fifty, and gradually, after various fluctuations, to one hundred and thirty-five.

The Bank, finding they were not able to restore public confidence, and stem the tide of ruin, without running the risk of being swept away with those they intended to save, declined to carry out the agreement into which they had partially entered. They were under no obligation whatever to continue; for the so-called Bank contract was nothing more than the rough draught of an agreement, in which blanks had been left for several important particulars, and which contained no penalty for their secession. 'And thus,' to use the words of the Parliamentary History, 'were seen, in the space of eight months, the rise, progress, and fall of that mighty fabric, which, being wound up by mysterious springs to a wonderful height, had fixed the eyes and expectations of all Europe, but whose foundation, being fraud, illusion, credulity, and infatuation, fell to the ground as soon as the artful management of its directors was discovered.'

In the heyday of its blood, during the progress of this dangerous delusion, the manners of the nation became sensibly corrupted. The parliamentary inquiry, set on foot to discover the delinquents, disclosed scenes of infamy, disgraceful alike to the morals of the offenders and the intellects of the people among whom they had arisen. It is a deeply interesting study to investigate all the evils that were the result. Nations, like individuals, cannot become desperate gamblers with impunity. Punishment is sure to overtake them sooner or later. A celebrated writer〔2〕 is quite wrong, when he says, 'that such an era as this is the most unfavourable for a historian; that no reader of sentiment and imagination can be entertained or interested by a detail of transactions such as these, which admit of no warmth, no colouring, no embellishment; a detail of which only serves to exhibit an inanimate picture of tasteless vice and mean degeneracy.' On the contrary — and Smollett might have discovered it, if he had been in the humour — the subject is capable of inspiring as much interest as even a novelist can desire. Is there no warmth in the despair of a plundered people? — no life and animation in the picture which might be drawn of the woes of hundreds of impoverished and ruined families? of the wealthy of yesterday become the beggars of today? of the powerful and influential changed into exiles and outcasts, and the voice of self-reproach and imprecation resounding from every corner of the land? Is it a dull or uninstructive picture to see a whole people shaking suddenly off the trammels of reason, and running wild after a golden vision, refusing obstinately to believe that it is not real, till, like a deluded hind running after an ignis fatuus, they are plunged into a quagmire? But in this false spirit has history too often been written. The intrigues of unworthy courtiers to gain the favour of still more unworthy kings; or the records of murderous battles and sieges have been dilated on, and told over and over again, with all the eloquence of style and all the charms of fancy; while the circumstances which have most deeply affected the morals and welfare of the people have been passed over with but slight notice as dry and dull, and capable of neither warmth nor colouring.

During the progress of this famous bubble, England presented a singular spectacle. The public mind was in a state of unwholesome fermentation. Men were no longer satisfied with the slow but sure profits of cautious industry. The hope of boundless wealth for the morrow made them heedless and extravagant for today. A luxury, till then unheard-of, was introduced, bringing in its train a corresponding laxity of morals. The overbearing insolence of ignorant men, who had arisen to sudden wealth by successful gambling, made men of true gentility of mind and manners blush that gold should have power to raise the unworthy in the scale of society. The haughtiness of some of these 'cyphering cits', as they were termed by Sir Richard Steele, was remembered against them in the day of their adversity. In the parliamentary inquiry, many of the directors suffered more for their insolence than for their peculation. One of them, who, in the full-blown pride of an ignorant rich man, had said that he would feed his horse upon gold, was reduced almost to bread and water for himself; every haughty look, every overbearing speech, was set down, and repaid them a hundredfold in poverty and humiliation.

The state of matters all over the country was so alarming, that George I shortened his intended stay in Hanover, and returned in all haste to England. He arrived on the 11th of November, and parliament was summoned to meet on the 8th of December. In the mean time, public meetings were held in every considerable town of the empire, at which petitions were adopted, praying the vengeance of the Legislature upon the South-Sea directors, who, by their fraudulent practices, had brought the nation to the brink of ruin. Nobody seemed to imagine that the nation itself was as culpable as the South-Sea Company. Nobody blamed the credulity and avarice of the people — the degrading lust of gain, which had swallowed up every nobler quality in the national character, or the infatuation which had made the multitude run their heads with such frantic eagerness into the net held out for them by scheming projectors. These things were never mentioned. The people were a simple, honest, hardworking people, ruined by a gang of robbers, who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered without mercy.

This was the almost unanimous feeling of the country. The two Houses of Parliament were not more reasonable. Before the guilt of the South-Sea directors was known, punishment was the only cry. The king, in his speech from the throne, expressed his hope that they would remember that all their prudence, temper, and resolution were necessary to find out and apply the proper remedy for their misfortunes. In the debate on the answer to the address, several speakers indulged in the most violent invectives against the directors of the South-Sea project. The Lord Molesworth was particularly vehement. 'It had been said by some, that there was no law to punish the directors of the South-Sea Company, who were justly looked upon as the authors of the present misfortunes of the state. In his opinion they ought upon this occasion to follow the example of the ancient Romans, who, having no law against parricide, because their legislators supposed no son could be so unnaturally wicked as to embrue his hands in his father's blood, made a law to punish this heinous crime as soon as it was committed. They adjudged the guilty wretch to be sown in a sack, and thrown alive into the Tiber. He looked upon the contrivers and executors of the villainous South-Sea scheme as the parricides of their country, and should be satisfied to see them tied in like manner in sacks, and thrown into the Thames.' Other members spoke with as much want of temper and discretion. Mr Walpole was more moderate. He recommended that their first care should be to restore public credit. 'If the city of London were on fire, all wise men would aid in extinguishing the flames, and preventing the spread of the conflagration before they enquired after the incendiaries. Public credit had received a dangerous wound, and lay bleeding, and they ought to apply a speedy remedy to it. It was time enough to punish the assassin afterwards.' On the 9th of December an address, in answer to his majesty's speech, was agreed upon, after an amendment, which was carried without a division, that words should be added expressive of the determination of the house not only to seek a remedy for the national distresses, but to punish the authors of them.

The inquiry proceeded rapidly. The directors were ordered to lay before the house a full account of all their proceedings. Resolutions were passed to the effect that the calamity was mainly owing to the vile arts of stockjobbers, and that nothing could tend more to the reestablishment of public credit than a law to prevent this infamous practice. Mr Walpole then rose, and said, that 'as he had previously hinted, he had spent some time upon a scheme for restoring public credit, but that the execution of it depending upon a position which had been laid down as fundamental, he thought it proper, before he opened out his scheme, to be informed whether he might rely upon that foundation. It was, whether the subscription of public debts and encumbrances, money subscriptions, and other contracts, made with the SouthSea Company should remain in the present state?' This question occasioned an animated debate. It was finally agreed, by a majority of 259 against 117, that all these contracts should remain in their present state, unless altered for the relief of the proprietors by a general court of the South-Sea Company, or set aside by due course of law. On the following day Mr Walpole laid before a committee of the whole house his scheme for the restoration of public credit, which was, in substance, to engraft nine millions of South-Sea stock into the Bank of England, and the same sum into the East India Company, upon certain conditions. The plan was favourably received by the house. After some few objections, it was ordered that proposals should be received from the two great corporations. They were both unwilling to lend their aid, and the plan met with a warm but fruitless opposition at the general courts summoned for the purpose of deliberating upon it. They, however, ultimately agreed upon the terms on which they would consent to circulate the South-Sea bonds, and their report, being presented to the committee, a bill was brought in, under the superintendence of Mr Walpole, and safely carried through both Houses of Parliament.

A bill was at the same time brought in, for restraining the South-Sea directors, governor, sub-governor, treasurer, cashier, and clerks from leaving the kingdom for a twelvemonth, and for discovering their estates and effects, and preventing them from transporting or alienating the same. All the most influential members of the house supported the bill. Mr Shippen, seeing Mr Secretary Craggs in his place, and believing the injurious rumours that were afloat of that minister's conduct in the SouthSea business, determined to touch him to the quick. He said, he was glad to see a British House of Commons resuming its pristine vigour and spirit, and acting with so much unanimity for the public good. It was necessary to secure the persons and estates of the South-Sea directors and their officers; 'but,' he added, looking fixedly at Mr Craggs as he spoke, 'there were other men in high station, whom, in time, he would not be afraid to name, who were no less guilty than the directors.' Mr Craggs arose in great wrath, and said, that if the innuendo were directed against him, he was ready to give satisfaction to any man who questioned him, either in the House or out of it. Loud cries of order immediately arose on every side. In the midst of the uproar Lord Molesworth got up, and expressed his wonder at the boldness of Mr Craggs in challenging the whole House of Commons. He, Lord Molesworth, though somewhat old, past sixty, would answer Mr Craggs whatever he had to say in the House, and he trusted there were plenty of young men beside him, who would not be afraid to look Mr Craggs in the face, out of the House. The cries of order again resounded from every side; the members arose simultaneously; everybody seemed to be vociferating at once. The speaker in vain called order. The confusion lasted several minutes, during which Lord Molesworth and Mr Craggs were almost the only members who kept their seats. At last, the call for Mr Craggs became so violent that he thought proper to submit to the universal feeling of the House, and explain his unparliamentary expression. He said, that by giving satisfaction to the impugners of his conduct in that House, he did not mean that he would fight, but that he would explain his conduct. Here the matter ended, and the House proceeded to debate in what manner they should conduct their inquiry into the affairs of the SouthSea Company, whether in a grand or a select committee. Ultimately, a secret committee of thirteen was appointed, with power to send for persons, papers, and records.

The Lords were as zealous and as hasty as the Commons. The Bishop of Rochester said the scheme had been like a pestilence. The Duke of Wharton said the House ought to show no respect of persons; that, for his part, he would give up the dearest friend he had, if he had been engaged in the project. The nation had been plundered in a most shameful and flagrant manner, and he would go as far as anybody in the punishment of the offenders. Lord Stanhope said, that every farthing possessed by the criminals, whether directors or not directors, ought to be confiscated, to make good the public losses.

During all this time the public excitement was extreme. We learn, from Coxe's Walpole, that the very name of a South-Sea director was thought to be synonymous with every species of fraud and villainy. Petitions from counties, cities, and boroughs, in all parts of the kingdom, were presented, crying for the justice due to an injured nation and the punishment of the villainous peculators. Those moderate men, who would not go to extreme lengths, even in the punishment of the guilty, were accused of being accomplices, were exposed to repeated insults and virulent invectives, and devoted, both in anonymous letters and public writings, to the speedy vengeance of an injured people. The accusations against Mr Aislabie, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Mr Craggs, another member of the ministry, were so loud, that the House of Lords resolved to proceed at once into the investigation concerning them. It was ordered, on the 21st of January, that all brokers concerned in the South-Sea scheme should lay before the house an account of the stock or subscriptions bought or sold by them for any of the officers of the Treasury or Exchequer, or in trust for any of them, since Michaelmas 1719. When this account was delivered, it appeared that large quantities of stock had been transferred to the use of Mr Aislabie. Five of the South-Sea directors, including Mr Edward Gibbon, the grandfather of the celebrated historian, were ordered into the custody of the black rod. Upon a motion made by Earl Stanhope, it was unanimously resolved, that the taking in or giving credit for stock without a valuable consideration actually paid or sufficiently secured; or the purchasing stock by any director or agent of the South-Sea Company, for the use or benefit of any member of the administration, or any member of either House of Parliament, during such time as the South-Sea bill was yet pending in parliament, was a notorious and dangerous corruption. Another resolution was passed a few days afterwards, to the effect that several of the directors and officers of the company having, in a clandestine manner, sold their own stock to the company, had been guilty of a notorious fraud and breach of trust, and had thereby mainly caused the unhappy turn of affairs that had so much affected public credit. Mr Aislabie resigned his office as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and absented himself from parliament until the formal inquiry into his individual guilt was brought under the consideration of the legislature.

In the mean time, Knight, the treasurer of the company, and who was entrusted with all the dangerous secrets of the dishonest directors, packed up his books and documents, and made his escape from the country. He embarked in disguise, in a small boat on the river, and proceeding to a vessel hired for the purpose, was safely conveyed to Calais. The Committee of Secrecy informed the House of the circumstance, when it was resolved unanimously that two addresses should be presented to the king; the first praying that he would issue a proclamation offering a reward for the apprehension of Knight; and the second, that he would give immediate orders to stop the ports, and to take effectual care of the coasts, to prevent the said Knight, or any other officers of the South-Sea Company, from escaping out of the kingdom. The ink was hardly dry upon these addresses before they were carried to the king by Mr Methuen, deputed by the House for that purpose. The same evening a royal proclamation was issued, offering a reward of two thousand pounds for the apprehension of Knight. The Commons ordered the doors of the House to be locked, and the keys to be placed upon the table. General Ross, one of the members of the Committee of Secrecy, acquainted them that they had already discovered a train of the deepest villainy and fraud that hell had ever contrived to ruin a nation, which in due time they would lay before the House. In the mean time, in order to a further discovery, the Committee thought it highly necessary to secure the persons of some of the directors and principal South-Sea officers, and to seize their papers. A motion to this effect having been made, was carried unanimously. Sir Robert Chaplin, Sir Theodore Janssen, Mr Sawbridge, and Mr F. Eyles, members of the House, and directors of the South-Sea Company, were summoned to appear in their places, and answer for their corrupt practices. Sir Theodore Janssen and Mr Sawbridge answered to their names, and endeavoured to exculpate themselves. The House heard them patiently, and then ordered them to withdraw. A motion was then made, and carried nemine contradicente, that they had been guilty of a notorious breach of trust — had occasioned much loss to great numbers of his majesty's subjects, and had highly prejudiced the public credit. It was then ordered that, for their offence, they should be expelled the House, and taken into the custody of the sergeant-at-arms. Sir Robert Chaplin and Mr Eyles, attending in their places four days afterwards, were also expelled the House. It was resolved at the same time to address the king to give directions to his ministers at foreign courts to make application for Knight, that he might be delivered up to the English authorities, in case he took refuge in any of their dominions. The king at once agreed, and messengers were despatched to all parts of the Continent the same night.

Among the directors taken into custody, was Sir John Blunt, the man whom popular opinion has generally accused of having been the original author and father of the scheme. This man, we are informed by Pope, in his epistle to Allen, Lord Bathurst, was a dissenter, of a most religious deportment, and professed to be a great believer. He constantly declaimed against the luxury and corruption of the age, the partiality of parliaments, and the misery of party spirit. He was particularly eloquent against avarice in great and noble persons. He was originally a scrivener, and afterwards became, not only a director, but the most active manager of the South-Sea Company. Whether it was during his career in this capacity that he first began to declaim against the avarice of the great, we are not informed. He certainly must have seen enough of it to justify his severest anathema; but if the preacher had himself been free from the vice he condemned, his declamations would have had a better effect. He was brought up in custody to the bar of the House of Lords, and underwent a long examination. He refused to answer several important questions. He said he had been examined already by a committee of the House of Commons, and as he did not remember his answers, and might contradict himself, he refused to answer before another tribunal. This declaration, in itself an indirect proof of guilt, occasioned some commotion in the House. He was again asked peremptorily whether he had ever sold any portion of the stock to any member of the administration, or any member of either House of Parliament, to facilitate the passing of the bill. He again declined to answer. He was anxious, he said, to treat the House with all possible respect, but he thought it hard to be compelled to accuse himself. After several ineffectual attempts to refresh his memory, he was directed to withdraw. A violent discussion ensued between the friends and opponents of the ministry. It was asserted that the administration were no strangers to the convenient taciturnity of Sir John Blunt. The Duke of Wharton made a reflection upon the Earl Stanhope, which the latter warmly resented. He spoke under great excitement, and with such vehemence as to cause a sudden determination of blood to the head. He felt himself so ill that he was obliged to leave the House and retire to his chamber. He was cupped immediately, and also let blood on the following morning, but with slight relief. The fatal result was not anticipated. Towards evening he became drowsy, and turning himself on his face, expired. The sudden death of this statesman caused great grief to the nation. George I was exceedingly affected, and shut himself up for some hours in his closet, inconsolable for his loss.

Knight, the treasurer of the company, was apprehended at Tirlemont, near Liège, by one of the secretaries of Mr Leathes, the British resident at Brussels, and lodged in the citadel of Antwerp. Repeated applications were made to the court of Austria to deliver him up, but in vain. Knight threw himself upon the protection of the states of Brabant, and demanded to be tried in that country. It was a privilege granted to the states of Brabant by one of the articles of the Foyeuse Entrée, that every criminal apprehended in that country should be tried in that country. The states insisted on their privilege, and refused to deliver Knight to the British authorities. The latter did not cease their solicitations; but in the mean time, Knight escaped from the citadel.

On the 16th of February the Committee of Secrecy made their first report to the House. They stated that their inquiry had been attended with numerous difficulties and embarrassments; everyone they had examined had endeavoured, as far as in him lay, to defeat the ends of justice. In some of the books produced before them, false and fictitious entries had been made; in others, there were entries of money, with blanks for the name of the stockholders. There were frequent erasures and alterations, and in some of the books leaves were torn out. They also found that some books of great importance had been destroyed altogether, and that some had been taken away or secreted. At the very entrance into their inquiry, they had observed that the matters referred to them were of great variety and extent. Many persons had been entrusted with various parts in the execution of the law, and under colour thereof had acted in an unwarrantable manner, in disposing of the properties of many thousands of persons, amounting to many millions of money. They discovered that, before the SouthSea Act was passed, there was an entry in the company's books of the sum of £1,259,325, upon account of stock stated to have been sold to the amount of £574,500. This stock was all fictitious, and had been disposed of with a view to promote the passing of the bill. It was noted as sold at various days, and at various prices, from 150 to 325 per cent. Being surprised to see so large an account disposed of, at a time when the company were not empowered to increase their capital, the Committee determined to investigate most carefully the whole transaction. The governor, sub-governor, and several directors were brought before them, and examined rigidly. They found that, at the time these entries were made, the company was not in possession of such a quantity of stock, having in their own right only a small quantity, not exceeding thirty thousand pounds at the utmost. Pursuing the inquiry, they found that this amount of stock was to be esteemed as taken in or holden by the company for the benefit of the pretended purchasers, although no mutual agreement was made for its delivery or acceptance at any certain time. No money was paid down, nor any deposit or security whatever given to the company by the supposed purchasers; so that if the stock had fallen, as might have been expected, had the act not passed, they would have sustained no loss. If, on the contrary, the price of stock advanced (as it actually did by the success of the scheme), the difference by the advanced price was to be made good to them. Accordingly, after the passing of the act, the account of stock was made up and adjusted with Mr Knight, and the pretended purchasers were paid the difference out of the company's cash. This fictitious stock, which had been chiefly at the disposal of Sir John Blunt, Mr Gibbon, and Mr Knight, was distributed among several members of the government and their connections, by way of bribe, to facilitate the passing of the bill. To the Earl of Sunderland was assigned £50,000 of this stock; to the Duchess of Kendal £10,000; to the Countess of Platen £10,000; to her two nieces £10,000; to Mr Secretary Craggs £30,000; to Mr Charles Stanhope (one of the secretaries of the Treasury) £10,000; to the Swordblade company £50,000. It also appeared that Mr Stanhope had received the enormous sum of £250,000 as the difference in the price of some stock, through the hands of Turner, Caswall, and Co., but that his name had been partly erased from their books, and altered to Stangape. Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had made profits still more abominable. He had an account with the same firm, who were also South-Sea directors, to the amount of £794,451. He had, besides, advised the company to make their second subscription one million and a half, instead of a million, by their own authority, and without any warrant. The third subscription had been conducted in a manner as disgraceful. Mr Aislabie's name was down for £70,000; Mr Craggs, senior, for £659,000; the Earl of Sunderland's for £160,000; and Mr Stanhope for £47,000. This report was succeeded by six others, less important. At the end of the last, the committee declared that the absence of Knight, who had been principally entrusted, prevented them from carrying on their enquiries.

The first report was ordered to be printed, and taken into consideration on the next day but one succeeding. After a very angry and animated debate, a series of resolutions were agreed to, condemnatory of the conduct of the directors, of the members of the parliament and of the administration concerned with them; and declaring that they ought, each and all, to make satisfaction out of their own estates for the injury they had done the public. Their practices were declared to be corrupt, infamous, and dangerous; and a bill was ordered to be brought in for the relief of the unhappy sufferers.

Mr Charles Stanhope was the first person brought to account for his share in these transactions. He urged in his defence that, for some years past, he had lodged all the money he was possessed of in Mr Knight's hands, and whatever stock Mr Knight had taken in for him, he had paid a valuable consideration for it. As to the stock that had been bought for him by Turner, Caswall, and Co., he knew nothing about it. Whatever had been done in that matter was done without his authority, and he could not be responsible for it. Turner and Co. took the latter charge upon themselves; but it was notorious to every unbiassed and unprejudiced person that Mr Stanhope was a gainer of the £250,000 which lay in the hands of that firm to his credit. He was, however, acquitted by a majority of three only. The greatest exertions were made to screen him. Lord Stanhope, the son of the Earl of Chesterfield, went round to the wavering members, using all the eloquence he was possessed of to induce them either to vote for the acquittal or to absent themselves from the House. Many weak-headed country gentlemen were led astray by his persuasions, and the result was as already stated. The acquittal caused the greatest discontent throughout the country. Mobs of a menacing character assembled in different parts of London; fears of riots were generally entertained, especially as the examination of a still greater delinquent was expected by many to have a similar termination. Mr Aislabie, whose high office and deep responsibilities should have kept him honest, even had native principle been insufficient, was very justly regarded as perhaps the greatest criminal of all. His case was entered into on the day succeeding the acquittal of Mr Stanhope. Great excitement prevailed, and the lobbies and avenues of the House were beset by crowds, impatient to know the result. The debate lasted the whole day. Mr Aislabie found few friends: his guilt was so apparent and so heinous that nobody had courage to stand up in his favour. It was finally resolved, without a dissentient voice, that Mr Aislabie had encouraged and promoted the destructive execution of the South-Sea scheme with a view to his own exorbitant profit, and had combined with the directors in their pernicious practices, to the ruin of the public trade and credit of the kingdom: that he should for his offences be ignominiously expelled from the House of Commons, and committed a close prisoner to the Tower of London; that he should be restrained from going out of the kingdom for a whole year, or till the end of the next session of Parliament; and that he should make out a correct account of all his estate, in order that it might be applied to the relief of those who had suffered by his malpractices.

This verdict caused the greatest joy. Though it was delivered at half-past twelve at night, it soon spread over the city. Several persons illuminated their houses in token of their joy. On the following day, when Mr Aislabie was conveyed to the Tower, the mob assembled on Tower-hill with the intention of hooting and pelting him. Not succeeding in this, they kindled a large bonfire, and danced around it in the exuberance of their delight. Several bonfires were made in other places; London presented the appearance of a holiday, and people congratulated one another as if they had just escaped from some great calamity. The rage upon the acquittal of Mr Stanhope had grown to such a height that none could tell where it would have ended, had Mr Aislabie met with the like indulgence.

To increase the public satisfaction, Sir George Caswall, of the firm of Turner, Caswall, and Co., was expelled from the House on the following day, committed to the Tower, and ordered to refund the sum of £250,000.

That part of the report of the Committee of Secrecy which related to the Earl of Sunderland was next taken into consideration. Every effort was made to clear his lordship from the imputation. As the case against him rested chiefly on the evidence extorted from Sir John Blunt, great pains were taken to make it appear that Sir John's word was not to be believed, especially in a matter affecting the honour of a peer and privy councillor. All the friends of the ministry rallied around the earl, it being generally reported that a verdict of guilty against him would bring a Tory ministry into power. He was eventually acquitted by a majority of 233 against 172; but the country was convinced of his guilt. The greatest indignation was everywhere expressed, and menacing mobs again assembled in London. Happily no disturbances took place.

This was the day on which Mr Craggs the elder expired. The morrow had been appointed for the consideration of his case. It was very generally believed that he had poisoned himself. It appeared, however, that grief for the loss of his son, one of the secretaries of the Treasury, who had died five weeks previously of the smallpox, preyed much on his mind. For this son, dearly beloved, he had been amassing vast heaps of riches: he had been getting money, but not honestly; and he for whose sake he had bartered his honour and sullied his fame, was now no more. The dread of further exposure increased his trouble of mind, and ultimately brought on an apoplectic fit, in which he expired. He left a fortune of a million and a half, which was afterwards confiscated for the benefit of the sufferers by the unhappy delusion he had been so mainly instrumental in raising.

One by one the case of every director of the company was taken into consideration. A sum amounting to two millions and fourteen thousand pounds was confiscated from their estates towards repairing the mischief they had done, each man being allowed a certain residue, in proportion to his conduct and circumstances, with which he might begin the world anew. Sir John Blunt was only allowed £5,000 out of his fortune of upwards of £183,000; Sir John Fellows was allowed £10,000 out of £243,000; Sir Theodore Janssen, £50,000 out of £243,000; Mr Edward Gibbon, £10,000 out of £106,000; Sir John Lambert, £5,000 out of £72,000. Others, less deeply involved, were treated with greater liberality. Gibbon, the historian, whose grandfather was the Mr Edward Gibbon so severely mulcted, has given, in the Memoirs of his Life and Writings, an interesting account of the proceedings in parliament at this time. He owns that he is not an unprejudiced witness; but, as all the writers from which it is possible to extract any notice of the proceedings of these disastrous years were prejudiced on the other side, the statements of the great historian become of additional value. If only on the principle of audi alteram partem, his opinion is entitled to consideration. 'In the year 1716,' he says, 'my grandfather was elected one of the directors of the South-Sea company, and his books exhibited the proof that before his acceptance of that fatal office, he had acquired an independent fortune of £60,000. But his fortune was overwhelmed in the shipwreck of the year 1720, and the labours of thirty years were blasted in a single day. Of the use or abuse of the South-Sea scheme, of the guilt or innocence of my grandfather and his brother directors, I am neither a competent nor a disinterested judge. Yet the equity of modern times must condemn the violent and arbitrary proceedings, which would have disgraced the cause of justice, and rendered injustice still more odious. No sooner had the nation awakened from its golden dream, than a popular, and even a parliamentary clamour demanded its victims; but it was acknowledged on all sides, that the directors, however guilty, could not be touched by any known laws of the land. The intemperate notions of Lord Molesworth were not literally acted on; but a bill of pains and penalties was introduced — a retroactive statute, to punish the offences which did not exist at the time they were committed. The legislature restrained the persons of the directors, imposed an exorbitant security for their appearance, and marked their character with a previous note of ignominy. They were compelled to deliver, upon oath, the strict value of their estates, and were disabled from making any transfer or alienation of any part of their property. Against a bill of pains and penalties, it is the common right of every subject to be heard by his counsel at the bar. They prayed to be heard. Their prayer was refused, and their oppressors, who required no evidence, would listen to no defence. It had been at first proposed, that one-eighth of their respective estates should be allowed for the future support of the directors; but it was especially urged that, in the various shades of opulence and guilt, such a proportion would be too light for many, and for some might possibly be too heavy. The character and conduct of each man were separately weighed; but, instead of the calm solemnity of a judicial inquiry, the fortune and honour of thirty-three Englishmen were made the topics of hasty conversation, the sport of a law-less majority; and the basest member of the committee, by a malicious word, or a silent vote, might indulge his general spleen or personal animosity. Injury was aggravated by insult, and insult was embittered by pleasantry. Allowances of £20 or 1s. were facetiously moved. A vague report that a director had formerly been concerned in another project, by which some unknown persons had lost their money, was admitted as a proof of his actual guilt. One man was ruined because he had dropped a foolish speech, that his horses should feed upon gold; another, because he was grown so proud, that one day, at the Treasury, he had refused a civil answer to persons much above him. All were condemned, absent and unheard, in arbitrary fines and forfeitures, which swept away the greatest part of their substance. Such bold oppression can scarcely be shielded by the omnipotence of parliament. My grandfather could not expect to be treated with more lenity than his companions. His Tory principles and connections rendered him obnoxious to the ruling powers. His name was reported in a suspicious secret. His well-known abilities could not plead the excuse of ignorance or error. In the first proceedings against the South-Sea directors, Mr Gibbon was one of the first taken into custody, and in the final sentence the measure of his fine proclaimed him eminently guilty. The total estimate, which he delivered on oath to the House of Commons, amounted to £106,543 5s. 6d., exclusive of antecedent settlements. Two different allowances of £15,000 and of £10,000 were moved for Mr Gibbon; but, on the question being put, it was carried without a division for the smaller sum. On these ruins, with the skill and credit of which parliament had not been able to despoil him, my grandfather, at a mature age, erected the edifice of a new fortune. The labours of sixteen years were amply rewarded; and I have reason to believe that the second structure was not much inferior to the first.'

The next consideration of the legislature, after the punishment of the directors, was to restore public credit. The scheme of Walpole had been found insufficient, and had fallen into disrepute. A computation was made of the whole capital stock of the South-Sea Company at the end of the year 1720. It was found to amount to thirty-seven millions eight hundred thousand pounds, of which the stock allotted to all the proprietors only amounted to twenty-four millions five hundred thousand pounds. The remainder of thirteen millions three hundred thousand pounds belonged to the company in their corporate capacity, and was the profit they had made by the national delusion. Upwards of eight millions of this were taken from the company, and divided among the proprietors and subscribers generally, making a dividend of about £33 6s. 8d. per cent. This was a great relief. It was further ordered, that such persons as had borrowed money from the South-Sea Company upon stock actually transferred and pledged at the time of borrowing to or for the use of the company, should be free from all demands, upon payment of ten per cent of the sums so borrowed. They had lent about eleven millions in this manner, at a time when prices were unnaturally raised; and they now received back one million one hundred thousand, when prices had sunk to their ordinary level.

But it was a long time before public credit was thoroughly restored. Enterprise, like Icarus, had soared too high, and melted the wax of her wings; like Icarus, she had fallen into a sea, and learned, while floundering in its waves, that her proper element was the solid ground. She has never since attempted so high a flight.

In times of great commercial prosperity there has been a tendency to over-speculation on several occasions since then. The success of one project generally produces others of a similar kind. Popular imitativeness will always, in a trading nation, seize hold of such successes, and drag a community too anxious for profits into an abyss from which extrication is difficult. Bubble companies, of a kind similar to those engendered by the South-Sea project, lived their little day in the famous year of the panic, 1825. On that occasion, as in 1720, knavery gathered a rich harvest from cupidity, but both suffered when the day of reckoning came. The schemes of the year 1836 threatened, at one time, results as disastrous; but they were happily averted before it was too late.〔3〕

注　释

〔1〕 Gay (the poet), in that disastrous year, had a present from young Craggs of some South-Sea stock, and once supposed himself to be master of twenty thousand pounds. His friends persuaded him to sell his share, but he dreamed of dignity and splendour, and could not bear to obstruct his own fortune. He was then importuned to sell as much as would purchase a hundred a year for life, 'which,' says Fenton, 'will make you sure of a clean shirt and a shoulder of mutton every day.' This counsel was rejected; the profit and principal were lost, and Gay sunk under the calamity so low that his life became in danger. — Johnson's Lives of the Poets.

〔2〕 Smollett.

〔3〕 The South-Sea project remained until 1845 the greatest example in British history of the infatuation of the people for commercial gambling. The first edition of these volumes was published some time before the outbreak of the Great Railway Mania of that and the following year.

3
The Tulipomania

Quis furor ō cives!

Lucan

The tulip, so named, it is said, from a Turkish word, signifying a turban — was introduced into western Europe about the middle of the sixteenth century. Conrad Gesner, who claims the merit of having brought it into repute — little dreaming of the extraordinary commotion it was to make in the world — says that he first saw it in the year 1559, in a garden at Augsburg, belonging to the learned Counsellor Herwart, a man very famous in his day for his collection of rare exotics. The bulbs were sent to this gentleman by a friend at Constantinople, where the flower had long been a favourite. In the course of ten or eleven years after this period, tulips were much sought after by the wealthy, especially in Holland and Germany. Rich people at Amsterdam sent for the bulbs direct to Constantinople, and paid the most extravagant prices for them. The first roots planted in England were brought from Vienna in 1600. Until the year 1634 the tulip annually increased in reputation, until it was deemed a proof of bad taste in any man of fortune to be without a collection of them. Many learned men, including Pompeius de Angelis and the celebrated Lipsius of Leyden, the author of the treatise 'De Constantia', were passionately fond of tulips. The rage for possessing them soon caught the middle classes of society, and merchants and shopkeepers, even of moderate means, began to vie with each other in the rarity of these flowers and the preposterous prices they paid for them. A trader at Harlaem was known to pay one-half of his fortune for a single root, not with the design of selling it again at a profit, but to keep in his own conservatory for the admiration of his acquaintance.

One would suppose that there must have been some great virtue in this flower to have made it so valuable in the eyes of so prudent a people as the Dutch; but it has neither the beauty nor the perfume of the rose — hardly the beauty of the 'sweet, sweet-pea'; neither is it as enduring as either. Cowley, it is true, is loud in its praise. He says:

The tulip next appeared, all over gay,

But wanton, full of pride, and full of play;

The world can't show a dye but here has place;

Nay, by new mixtures, she can change her face;

Purple and gold are both beneath her care,

The richest needlework she loves to wear;

Her only study is to please the eye,

And to outshine the rest in finery.

This, though not very poetical, is the description of a poet. Beckmann, in his History of Inventions, paints it with more fidelity, and in prose more pleasing than Cowley's poetry. He says,

There are few plants which acquire, through accident, weakness, or disease, so many variegations as the tulip. When uncultivated, and in its natural state, it is almost of one colour, has large leaves, and an extraordinarily long stem. When it has been weakened by cultivation, it becomes more agreeable in the eyes of the florist. The petals are then paler, smaller, and more diversified in hue; and the leaves acquire a softer green colour. Thus this masterpiece of culture, the more beautiful it turns, grows so much the weaker, so that, with the greatest skill and most careful attention, it can scarcely be transplanted, or even kept alive.

Many persons grow insensibly attached to that which gives them a great deal of trouble, as a mother often loves her sick and ever-ailing child better than her more healthy offspring. Upon the same principle we must account for the unmerited encomia lavished upon these fragile blossoms. In 1634, the rage among the Dutch to possess them was so great that the ordinary industry of the country was neglected, and the population, even to its lowest dregs, embarked in the tulip trade. As the mania increased, prices augmented, until, in the year 1635, many persons were known to invest a fortune of 100,000 florins in the purchase of forty roots. It then became necessary to sell them by their weight in perits, a small weight less than a grain. A tulip of the species called Admiral Liefken, weighing 400 perits, was worth 4,400 florins; an Admiral Van der Eyck, weighing 446 perits, was worth 1,260 florins; a Childer of 106 perits was worth 1,615 florins; a Viceroy of 400 perits, 3,000 florins, and, most precious of all, a Semper Augustus, weighing 200 perits, was thought to be very cheap at 5,500 florins. The latter was much sought after, and even an inferior bulb might command a price of 2,000 florins. It is related that, at one time, early in 1636, there were only two roots of this description to be had in all Holland, and those not of the best. One was in the possession of a dealer in Amsterdam, and the other in Harlaem. So anxious were the speculators to obtain them that one person offered the fee-simple of twelve acres of building ground for the Harlaem tulip. That of Amsterdam was bought for 4,600 florins, a new carriage, two grey horses, and a complete suit of harness. Munting, an industrious author of that day, who wrote a folio volume of one thousand pages upon the tulipomania, has preserved the following list of the various articles, and their value, which were delivered for one single root of the rare species called the Viceroy:

| florins
Two lasts of wheat | 448
Four lasts of rye | 558
Four fat oxen | 480
Eight fat swine | 240
Twelve fat sheep | 120
Two hogsheads of wine | 70
Four tuns of beer | 32
Two tons of butter | 192
One thousand lbs. of cheese | 120
A complete bed | 100
A suit of clothes | 80
A silver drinking cup | 60
| 2,500

People who had been absent from Holland, and whose chance it was to return when this folly was at its maximum, were sometimes led into awkward dilemmas by their ignorance. There is an amusing instance of the kind related in Blainville's Travels. A wealthy merchant, who prided himself not a little on his rare tulips, received upon one occasion a very valuable consignment of merchandise from the Levant. Intelligence of its arrival was brought him by a sailor, who presented himself for that purpose at the counting-house, among bales of goods of every description. The merchant, to reward him for his news, munificently made him a present of a fine red herring for his breakfast. The sailor had, it appears, a great partiality for onions, and seeing a bulb very like an onion lying upon the counter of this liberal trader, and thinking it, no doubt, very much out of its place among silks and velvets, he slily seized an opportunity and slipped it into his pocket, as a relish for his herring. He got clear off with his prize, and proceeded to the quay to eat his breakfast. Hardly was his back turned when the merchant missed his valuable Semper Augustus, worth three thousand florins, or about £280 sterling. The whole establishment was instantly in an uproar; search was everywhere made for the precious root, but it was not to be found. Great was the merchant's distress of mind. The search was renewed, but again without success. At last someone thought of the sailor.

The unhappy merchant sprang into the street at the bare suggestion. His alarmed household followed him. The sailor, simple soul! had not thought of concealment. He was found quietly sitting on a coil of ropes, masticating the last morsel of his 'onion'. Little did he dream that he had been eating a breakfast whose cost might have regaled a whole ship's crew for a twelvemonth; or, as the plundered merchant himself expressed it, 'might have sumptuously feasted the Prince of Orange and the whole court of the Stadtholder'. Anthony caused pearls to be dissolved in wine to drink the health of Cleopatra; Sir Richard Whittington was as foolishly magnificent in an entertainment to King Henry V; and Sir Thomas Gresham drank a diamond, dissolved in wine, to the health of Queen Elizabeth, when she opened the Royal Exchange; but the breakfast of this roguish Dutchman was as splendid as either. He had an advantage, too, over his wasteful predecessors: their gems did not improve the taste or the wholesomeness of their wine, while his tulip was quite delicious with his red herring. The most unfortunate part of the business for him was that he remained in prison for some months on a charge of felony preferred against him by the merchant.

Another story is told of an English traveller, which is scarcely less ludicrous. This gentleman, an amateur botanist, happened to see a tulip-root lying in the conservatory of a wealthy Dutchman. Being ignorant of its quality, he took out his penknife, and peeled off its coats, with the view of making experiments upon it. When it was by this means reduced to half its original size, he cut it into two equal sections, making all the time many learned remarks on the singular appearances of the unknown bulb. Suddenly the owner pounced upon him, and, with fury in his eyes, asked him if he knew what he had been doing? 'Peeling a most extraordinary onion,' replied the philosopher. 'Hundert tausend duyvel!' said the Dutchman; 'it's an Admiral Van der Eyck.' 'Thank you,' replied the traveller, taking out his notebook to make a memorandum of the same; 'are these admirals common in your country?' 'Death and the devil,' said the Dutchman, seizing the astonished man of science by the collar; 'come before the syndic, and you shall see.' In spite of his remonstrances, the traveller was led through the streets, followed by a mob of persons. When brought into the presence of the magistrate, he learned, to his consternation, that the root upon which he had been experimentalising was worth four thousand florins; and, notwithstanding all he could urge in extenuation, he was lodged in prison until he found securities for the payment of this sum.

The demand for tulips of a rare species increased so much in the year 1636, that regular marts for their sale were established on the Stock Exchange of Amsterdam, in Rotterdam, Harlaem, Leyden, Alkmar, Hoorn, and other towns. Symptoms of gambling now became, for the first time, apparent. The stock-jobbers, ever on the alert for a new speculation, dealt largely in tulips, making use of all the means they so well knew how to employ, to cause fluctuations in prices. At first, as in all these gambling mania, confidence was at its height, and everybody gained. The tulip-jobbers speculated in the rise and fall of the tulip stocks, and made large profits by buying when prices fell, and selling out when they rose. Many individuals grew suddenly rich. A golden bait hung temptingly out before the people, and, one after the other, they rushed to the tulip marts, like flies around a honey-pot. Everyone imagined that the passion for tulips would last for ever, and that the wealthy from every part of the world would send to Holland, and pay whatever prices were asked for them. The riches of Europe would be concentrated on the shores of the Zuyder Zee, and poverty banished from the favoured clime of Holland. Nobles, citizens, farmers, mechanics, seamen, footmen, maidservants, even chimney-sweeps and old clotheswomen, dabbled in tulips. People of all grades converted their property into cash, and invested it in flowers. Houses and lands were offered for sale at ruinously low prices, or assigned in payment of bargains made at the tulip-mart. Foreigners became smitten with the same frenzy, and money poured into Holland from all directions. The prices of the necessaries of life rose again by degrees: houses and lands, horses and carriages, and luxuries of every sort, rose in value with them, and for some months Holland seemed the very antechamber of Plutus. The operations of the trade became so extensive and so intricate, that it was found necessary to draw up a code of laws for the guidance of the dealers. Notaries and clerks were also appointed, who devoted themselves exclusively to the interests of the trade. The designation of public notary was hardly known in some towns, that of tulip-notary usurping its place. In the smaller towns, where there was no exchange, the principal tavern was usually selected as the 'show-place', where high and low traded in tulips, and confirmed their bargains over sumptuous entertainments. These dinners were sometimes attended by two or three hundred persons, and large vases of tulips, in full bloom, were placed at regular intervals upon the tables and sideboards, for their gratification during the repast.

At last, however, the more prudent began to see that this folly could not last for ever. Rich people no longer bought the flowers to keep them in their gardens, but to sell them again at cent per cent profit. It was seen that somebody must lose fearfully in the end. As this conviction spread, prices fell, and never rose again. Confidence was destroyed, and a universal panic seized upon the dealers. A had agreed to purchase ten Sempers Augustines from B, at four thousand florins each, at six weeks after the signing of the contract. B was ready with the flowers at the appointed time; but the price had fallen to three or four hundred florins, and A refused either to pay the difference or receive the tulips. Defaulters were announced day after day in all the towns of Holland. Hundreds who, a few months previously, had begun to doubt that there was such a thing as poverty in the land, suddenly found themselves the possessors of a few bulbs, which nobody would buy, even though they offered them at one quarter of the sums they had paid for them. The cry of distress resounded everywhere, and each man accused his neighbour. The few who had contrived to enrich themselves hid their wealth from the knowledge of their fellowcitizens, and invested it in the English or other funds. Many who, for a brief season, had emerged from the humbler walks of life, were cast back into their original obscurity. Substantial merchants were reduced almost to beggary, and many a representative of a noble line saw the fortunes of his house ruined beyond redemption.

When the first alarm subsided, the tulip-holders in the several towns held public meetings to devise what measures were best to be taken to restore public credit. It was generally agreed, that deputies should be sent from all parts to Amsterdam, to consult with the government upon some remedy for the evil. The government at first refused to interfere, but advised the tulip-holders to agree to some plan among themselves. Several meetings were held for this purpose; but no measure could be devised likely to give satisfaction to the deluded people, or repair even a slight portion of the mischief that had been done. The language of complaint and reproach was in everybody's mouth, and all the meetings were of the most stormy character. At last, however, after much bickering and ill-will, it was agreed, at Amsterdam, by the assembled deputies, that all contracts made in the height of the mania, or prior to the month of November 1636, should be declared null and void, and that, in those made after that date, purchasers should be freed from their engagements, on paying ten per cent to the vendor. This decision gave no satisfaction. The vendors who had their tulips on hand were, of course, discontented, and those who had pledged themselves to purchase, thought themselves hardly treated. Tulips which had, at one time, been worth six thousand florins, were now to be procured for five hundred; so that the composition of ten per cent was one hundred florins more than the actual value. Actions for breach of contract were threatened in all the courts of the country; but the latter refused to take cognisance of gambling transactions.

The matter was finally referred to the Provincial Council at the Hague, and it was confidently expected that the wisdom of this body would invent some measure by which credit should be restored. Expectation was on the stretch for its decision, but it never came. The members continued to deliberate week after week, and at last, after thinking about it for three months, declared that they could offer no final decision until they had more information. They advised, however, that, in the mean time, every vendor should, in the presence of witnesses, offer the tulips in natura to the purchaser for the sums agreed upon. If the latter refused to take them, they might be put up for sale by public auction, and the original contractor held responsible for the difference between the actual and the stipulated price. This was exactly the plan recommended by the deputies, and which was already shown to be of no avail. There was no court in Holland which would enforce payment. The question was raised in Amsterdam, but the judges unanimously refused to interfere, on the ground that debts contracted in gambling were no debts in law.

Thus the matter rested. To find a remedy was beyond the power of the government. Those who were unlucky enough to have had stores of tulips on hand at the time of the sudden reaction were left to bear their ruin as philosophically as they could; those who had made profits were allowed to keep them; but the commerce of the country suffered a severe shock, from which it was many years ere it recovered.

The example of the Dutch was imitated to some extent in England. In the year 1636 tulips were publicly sold in the Exchange of London, and the jobbers exerted themselves to the utmost to raise them to the fictitious value they had acquired in Amsterdam. In Paris also the jobbers strove to create a tulipomania. In both cities they only partially succeeded. However, the force of example brought the flowers into great favour, and amongst a certain class of people tulips have ever since been prized more highly than any other flowers of the field. The Dutch are still notorious for their partiality to them, and continue to pay higher prices for them than any other people. As the rich Englishman boasts of his fine racehorses or his old pictures, so does the wealthy Dutchman vaunt him of his tulips.

In England, in our day, strange as it may appear, a tulip will produce more money than an oak. If one could be found, rara in terris, and black as the black swan alluded to by Juvenal, its price would equal that of a dozen acres of standing corn. In Scotland, towards the close of the seventeenth century, the highest price for tulips, according to the authority of a writer in the supplement to the third edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, was ten guineas. Their value appears to have diminished from that time till the year 1769, when the two most valuable species in England were the Don Quevedo and the Valentinier, the former of which was worth two guineas and the latter two guineas and a half. These prices appear to have been the minimum. In the year 1800, a common price was fifteen guineas for a single bulb. In 1835, so foolish were the fanciers that a bulb of the species called the Miss Fanny Kemble was sold by public auction in London for seventy-five pounds. Still more remarkable was the price of a tulip in the possession of a gardener in the King's Road, Chelsea; in his catalogues it was labelled at two hundred guineas.

4
The Slow Poisoners

PESCARA | The like was never read of.

STEPHANO

In my judgement,
To all that shall but hear it, 'twill appear
A most impossible fable.

PESCARA

Troth, I'll tell you,
And briefly as I can, by what degrees
They fell into this madness.

Duke of Milan

The atrocious system of poisoning, by poisons so slow in their operation, as to make the victim appear, to ordinary observers, as if dying from a gradual decay of nature, has been practised in all ages. Those who are curious in the matter may refer to Beckmann on Secret Poisons, in his History of Inventions, in which he has collected several instances of it from the Greek and Roman writers. Early in the sixteenth century the crime seems to have gradually increased, till, in the seventeenth, it spread over Europe like a pestilence. It was often exercised by pretended witches and sorcerers, and finally became a branch of education amongst all who laid any claim to magical and supernatural arts. In the twenty-first year of Henry VIII an act was passed, rendering it high-treason: those found guilty of it, were to be boiled to death.

One of the first in point of date, and hardly second to any in point of atrocity, is the murder by this means of Sir Thomas Overbury, which disgraced the court of James I, in the year 1613. A slight sketch of it will be a fitting introduction to the history of the poisoning mania, which was so prevalent in France and Italy fifty years later.

Robert Kerr, a Scottish youth, was early taken notice of by James I, and loaded with honours, for no other reason that the world could ever discover than the beauty of his person. James, even in his own day, was suspected of being addicted to the most abominable of all offences, and the more we examine his history now, the stronger the suspicion becomes. However that may be, the handsome Kerr, lending his smooth cheek, even in public, to the disgusting kisses of his royal master, rose rapidly in favour. In the year 1613, he was made Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, and created an English peer, by the style and title of Viscount Rochester. Still further honours were in store for him.

In this rapid promotion he had not been without a friend. Sir Thomas Overbury, the King's secretary — who appears, from some threats in his own letters, to have been no better than a pander to the vices of the King, and privy to his dangerous secrets — exerted all his backstair influence to forward the promotion of Kerr, by whom he was, doubtless, repaid in some way or other. Overbury did not confine his friendship to this, if friendship ever could exist between two such men, but acted the part of an entremetteur, and assisted Rochester to carry on an adulterous intrigue with the Lady Frances Howard, the wife of the Earl of Essex. This woman was a person of violent passions, and lost to all sense of shame. Her husband was in her way, and to be freed from him, she instituted proceedings for a divorce, on grounds which a woman of any modesty or delicacy of feeling would die rather than avow. Her scandalous suit was successful, and was no sooner decided than preparations, on a scale of the greatest magnificence, were made for her marriage with Lord Rochester.

Sir Thomas Overbury, who had willingly assisted his patron to intrigue with the Countess of Essex, seems to have imagined that his marriage with so vile a woman might retard his advancement; he accordingly employed all his influence to dissuade him from it. But Rochester was bent on the match, and his passions were as violent as those of the Countess. On one occasion, when Overbury and the Viscount were walking in the gallery of Whitehall, Overbury was overheard to say, 'Well, my Lord, if you do marry that base woman, you will utterly ruin your honour and yourself. You shall never do it with my advice or consent; and, if you do, you had best look to stand fast.' Rochester flung from him in a rage, exclaiming with an oath, 'I will be even with you for this.' These words were the death-warrant of the unfortunate Overbury. He had mortally wounded the pride of Rochester in insinuating that by his (Overbury's) means he might be lowered in the King's favour; and he had endeavoured to curb the burning passions of a heartless, dissolute, and reckless man.

Overbury's imprudent remonstrances were reported to the Countess; and from that moment, she also vowed the most deadly vengeance against him. With a fiendish hypocrisy, however, they both concealed their intentions, and Overbury, at the solicitation of Rochester, was appointed ambassador to the court of Russia. This apparent favour was but the first step in a deep and deadly plot. Rochester, pretending to be warmly attached to the interests of Overbury, advised him to refuse the embassy, which, he said, was but a trick to get him out of the way. He promised, at the same time, to stand between him and any evil consequences which might result from his refusal. Overbury fell into the snare, and declined the embassy. James, offended, immediately ordered his committal to the Tower.

He was now in safe custody, and his enemies had opportunity to commence the work of vengeance. The first thing Rochester did was to procure, by his influence at court, the dismissal of the Lieutenant of the Tower, and the appointment of Sir Jervis Elwes, one of his creatures, to the vacant post. This man was but one instrument, and another being necessary, was found in Richard Weston, a fellow who had formerly been shopman to a druggist. He was installed in the office of under-keeper, and as such had the direct custody of Overbury. So far, all was favourable to the designs of the conspirators.

In the mean time, the insidious Rochester wrote the most friendly letters to Overbury, requesting him to bear his ill-fortune patiently, and promising that his imprisonment should not be of long duration; for that his friends were exerting themselves to soften the King's displeasure. Still pretending the extreme of sympathy for him, he followed up the letters by presents of pastry and other delicacies, which could not be procured in the Tower. These articles were all poisoned. Occasionally, presents of a similar description were sent to Sir Jervis Elwes, with the understanding that these articles were not poisoned, when they were unaccompanied by letters: of these the unfortunate prisoner never tasted. A woman, named Turner, who had formerly kept a house of ill fame, and who had more than once lent it to further the guilty intercourse of Rochester and Lady Essex, was the agent employed to procure the poisons. They were prepared by Dr Forman, a pretended fortune-teller of Lambeth, assisted by an apothecary named Franklin. Both these persons knew for what purposes the poisons were needed, and employed their skill in mixing them in the pastry and other edibles, in such small quantities as gradually to wear out the constitution of their victim. Mrs Turner regularly furnished the poisoned articles to the under-keeper, who placed them before Overbury. Not only his food, but his drink was poisoned. Arsenic was mixed with the salt he ate, and cantharides with the pepper. All this time, his health declined sensibly. Every day he grew weaker and weaker; and with a sickly appetite, craved for sweets and jellies. Rochester continued to condole with him, and anticipated all his wants in this respect, sending him abundance of pastry, and occasionally partridges and other game, and young pigs. With the sauce for the game, Mrs Turner mixed a quantity of cantharides, and poisoned the pork with lunar-caustic. As stated on the trial, Overbury took in this manner poison enough to have poisoned twenty men; but his constitution was strong, and he still lingered. Franklin, the apothecary, confessed that he prepared with Dr Forman seven different sorts of poisons; viz. aquafortis, arsenic, mercury, powder of diamonds, lunar-caustic, great spiders, and cantharides. Overbury held out so long that Rochester became impatient, and in a letter to Lady Essex, expressed his wonder that things were not sooner despatched. Orders were immediately sent by Lady Essex to the keeper to finish with the victim at once. Overbury had not been all this time without suspicion of treachery, although he appears to have had no idea of poison. He merely suspected that it was intended to confine him for life, and to set the King still more bitterly against him. In one of his letters, he threatened Rochester that, unless he were speedily liberated, he would expose his villainy to the world. He says, 'You and I, ere it be long, will come to a public trial of another nature... Drive me not to extremities, lest I should say something that both you and I should repent... Whether I live or die, your shame shall never die, but ever remain to the world, to make you the most odious man living... I wonder much you should neglect him to whom such secrets of all kinds have passed... Be these the fruits of common secrets, common dangers?'

All these remonstrances, and hints as to the dangerous secrets in his keeping, were ill-calculated to serve him with a man so reckless as Lord Rochester: they were more likely to cause him to be sacrificed than to be saved. Rochester appears to have acted as if he thought so. He doubtless employed the murderer's reasoning that 'dead men tell no tales', when, after receiving letters of this description, he complained to his paramour of the delay. Weston was spurred on to consummate the atrocity; and the patience of all parties being exhausted, a dose of corrosive sublimate was administered to him, in October 1613, which put an end to his sufferings, after he had been for six months in their hands. On the very day of his death, and before his body was cold, he was wrapped up carelessly in a sheet, and buried without any funeral ceremony in a pit within the precincts of the Tower.

Sir Anthony Weldon, in his Court and Character of James I, gives a somewhat different account of the closing scene of this tragedy. He says, 'Franklin and Weston came into Overbury's chamber, and found him in infinite torment, with contention between the strength of nature and the working of the poison; and it being very like that nature had gotten the better in this contention, by the thrusting out of boils, blotches, and blains, they, fearing it might come to light by the judgement of physicians, the foul play that had been offered him, consented to stifle him with the bedclothes, which accordingly was performed; and so ended his miserable life, with the assurance of the conspirators that he died by the poison; none thinking otherwise than these two murderers.'

The sudden death — the indecent haste of the funeral, and the non-holding of an inquest upon the body, strengthened the suspicions that were afloat. Rumour, instead of whispering, began to speak out; and the relatives of the deceased openly expressed their belief that their kinsman had been murdered. But Rochester was still all powerful at court, and no one dared to utter a word to his discredit. Shortly afterwards, his marriage with the Countess of Essex was celebrated with the utmost splendour, the King himself being present at the ceremony.

It would seem that Overbury's knowledge of James's character was deeper than Rochester had given him credit for, and that he had been a true prophet when he predicted that his marriage would eventually estrange James from his minion. At this time, however, Rochester stood higher than ever in the royal favour; but it did not last long — conscience, that busy monitor, was at work. The tongue of rumour was never still; and Rochester, who had long been a guilty, became at last a wretched man. His cheeks lost their colour — his eyes grew dim; and he became moody, careless, and melancholy. The King seeing him thus, took at length no pleasure in his society, and began to look about for another favourite. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was the man to his mind; quickwitted, handsome, and unscrupulous. The two latter qualities alone were sufficient to recommend him to James I. In proportion as the influence of Rochester declined, that of Buckingham increased. A falling favourite has no friends; and Rumour wagged her tongue against Rochester louder and more pertinaciously than ever. A new favourite, too, generally endeavours to hasten by a kick the fall of the old one; and Buckingham, anxious to work the complete ruin of his forerunner in the King's good graces, encouraged the relatives of Sir Thomas Overbury to prosecute their enquiries into the strange death of their kinsman.

James was rigorous enough in the punishment of offences when he was not himself involved. He piqued himself, moreover, on his dexterity in unravelling mysteries. The affair of Sir Thomas Overbury found him congenial occupation. He set to work by ordering the arrest of Sir Jervis Elwes. James, at this early stage of the proceedings, does not seem to have been aware that Rochester was so deeply implicated. Struck with horror at the atrocious system of slow poisoning, the King sent for all the Judges. According to Sir Anthony Weldon, he knelt down in the midst of them, and said, 'My Lords the Judges, it is lately come to my hearing that you have now in examination a business of poisoning. Lord! in what a miserable condition shall this kingdom be (the only famous nation for hospitality in the world) if our tables should become such a snare, as that none could eat without danger of life, and that Italian custom should be introduced among us! Therefore, my Lords, I charge you, as you will answer it at that great and dreadful day of judgement, that you examine it strictly, without layout, affection, or partiality. And if you shall spare any guilty of this crime, God's curse light on you and your posterity! and if I spare any that are guilty, God's curse light on me and my posterity for ever!'

The imprecation fell but too surely upon the devoted house of Stuart. The solemn oath was broken, and God's curse did light upon him and his posterity!

The next person arrested after Sir Jervis Elwes, was Weston, the under-keeper; then Franklin and Mrs Turner; and, lastly, the Earl and Countess of Somerset, to which dignity Rochester had been advanced since the death of Overbury.

Weston was first brought to trial. Public curiosity was on the stretch. Nothing else was talked of, and the court on the day of trial was crowded to suffocation. The State Trials report, that Lord Chief Justice Coke 'laid open to the jury the baseness and cowardliness of poisoners, who attempt that secretly against which there is no means of preservation or defence for a man's life; and how rare it was to hear of any poisoning in England, so detestable it was to our nation. But the devil had taught divers to be cunning in it, so that they can poison in what distance of space they please, by consuming the nativum calidum, or humidum radicale, in one month, two or three, or more, as they list, which they four manner of ways do execute; viz. 'Haustu', 'gustu', 'odore', and 'contactu'.

When the indictment was read over, Weston made no other reply than, 'Lord have mercy upon me! Lord have mercy upon me!' On being asked how he would be tried, he refused to throw himself upon a jury of his country, and declared, that he would be tried by God alone. In this he persisted for some time. The fear of the dreadful punishment for contumacy〔1〕 induced him, at length, to plead 'Not guilty', and take his trial in due course of law.

All the circumstances against him were fully proved, and he was found guilty and executed at Tyburn. Mrs Turner, Franklin, and Sir Jervis Elwes were also brought to trial, found guilty, and executed between the 19th of October and the 4th of December 1615; but the grand trial of the Earl and Countess of Somerset did not take place till the month of May following.

On the trial of Sir Jervis Elwes, circumstances had transpired, showing a guilty knowledge of the poisoning on the part of the Earl of Northampton the uncle of Lady Somerset, and the chief falconer Sir Thomas Monson. The former was dead; but Sir Thomas Monson was arrested, and brought to trial. It appeared, however, that he was too dangerous a man to be brought to the scaffold. He knew too many of the odious secrets of James I, and his dying speech might contain disclosures which would compromise the King. To conceal old guilt it was necessary to incur new: the trial of Sir Thomas Monson was brought to an abrupt conclusion, and himself set at liberty!

Already James had broken his oath. He now began to fear that he had been rash in engaging so zealously to bring the poisoners to punishment. That Somerset would be declared guilty there was no doubt, and that he looked for pardon and impunity was equally evident to the King. Somerset, while in the Tower, asserted confidently, that James would not dare to bring him to trial. In this he was mistaken; but James was in an agony. What the secret was between them will now never be known with certainty; but it may be surmised. Some have imagined it to be the vice to which the King was addicted; while others have asserted, that it related to the death of Prince Henry, a virtuous young man, who had held Somerset in especial abhorrence. The Prince died early, unlamented by his father, and, as public opinion whispered at the time, poisoned by Somerset. Probably, some crime or other lay heavy upon the soul of the King; and Somerset, his accomplice, could not be brought to public execution with safety. Hence the dreadful tortures of James, when he discovered that his favourite was so deeply implicated in the murder of Overbury. Every means was taken by the agonised King to bring the prisoner into what was called a safe frame of mind. He was secretly advised to plead guilty, and trust to the clemency of the King. The same advice was conveyed to the Countess. Bacon was instructed by the King to draw up a paper of all the points of 'mercy and favour' to Somerset which might result from the evidence; and Somerset was again recommended to plead guilty, and promised that no evil should ensue to him.

The Countess was first tried. She trembled and shed tears during the reading of the indictment, and, in a low voice, pleaded guilty. On being asked why sentence of death should not be passed against her, she replied meekly, 'I can much aggravate, but nothing extenuate my fault. I desire mercy, and that the lords will intercede for me with the King.' Sentence of death was passed upon her.

Next day the Earl was brought to trial. He appears to have mistrusted the promises of James, and he pleaded not guilty. With a self-possession and confidence, which he felt, probably, from his knowledge of the King's character, he rigorously cross-examined the witnesses, and made a stubborn defence. After a trial which lasted eleven hours, he was found guilty, and condemned to the felon's death.

Whatever may have been the secrets between the criminal and the King, the latter, notwithstanding his terrific oath, was afraid to sign the death-warrant. It might, perchance, have been his own. The Earl and Countess were committed to the Tower, where they remained for nearly five years. At the end of this period, to the surprise and scandal of the community, and the disgrace of its chief magistrate, they both received the royal pardon, but were ordered to reside at a distance from the court. Having been found guilty of felony, the estates of the Earl had become forfeited; but James granted him out of their revenues an income of £4,000 per annum! Shamelessness could go no further.

Of the after life of these criminals nothing is known, except that the love they had formerly borne each other was changed into aversion, and that they lived under the same roof for months together without the interchange of a word.

The exposure of their atrocities did not put a stop to the practice of poisoning. On the contrary, as we shall see hereafter, it engendered that insane imitation which is so strange a feature of the human character. James himself is supposed, with great probability, to have fallen a victim to it. In the notes to Harris's Life and Writings of James I, there is a good deal of information on the subject. The guilt of Buckingham, although not fully established, rests upon circumstances of suspicion stronger than have been sufficient to lead hundreds to the scaffold. His motives for committing the crime are stated to have been a desire of revenge for the coldness with which the King, in the latter years of his reign, began to regard him; his fear that James intended to degrade him; and his hope that the great influence he possessed over the mind of the heir-apparent would last through a new reign, if the old one were brought to a close.

In the second volume of the Harleian Miscellany, there is a tract, entitled the 'Forerunner of Revenge', written by George Eglisham, doctor of medicine, and one of the physicians to King James. Harris, in quoting it, says that it is full of rancour and prejudice. It is evidently exaggerated; but forms, nevertheless, a link in the chain of evidence. Eglisham says: 'The King being sick of an ague, the Duke took this opportunity, when all the King's doctors of physic were at dinner, and offered to him a white powder to take, the which he a long time refused; but, overcome with his flattering importunity, he took it in wine, and immediately became worse and worse, falling into many swoonings and pains, and violent fluxes of the belly, so tormented, that his Majesty cried out aloud of this white powder, "Would to God I had never taken it!"' He then tells us 'of the Countess of Buckingham (the Duke's mother) applying the plaister to the King's heart and breast, whereupon he grew faint and short-breathed, and in agony. That the physicians exclaimed, that the King was poisoned; that Buckingham commanded them out of the room, and committed one of them close prisoner to his own chamber, and another to be removed from court; and that, after his Majesty's death, his body and head swelled above measure; his hair, with the skin of his head, stuck to his pillow, and his nails became loose on his fingers and toes.' Clarendon, who, by the way, was a partisan of the Duke's, gives a totally different account of James's death. He says, 'It was occasioned by an ague (after a short indisposition by the gout) which, meeting many humours in a fat unwieldy body of fifty-eight years old, in four or five fits carried him out of the world. After whose death many scandalous and libellous discourses were raised, without the least colour or ground; as appeared upon the strictest and most malicious examination that could be made, long after, in a time of licence, when nobody was afraid of offending majesty, and when prosecuting the highest reproaches and contumelies against the royal family was held very meritorious.' Notwithstanding this confident declaration, the world will hardly be persuaded that there was not some truth in the rumours that were abroad. The enquiries which were instituted were not strict, as he asserts, and all the unconstitutional influence of the powerful favourite was exerted to defeat them. In the celebrated accusations brought against Buckingham by the Earl of Bristol, the poisoning of King James was placed last on the list, and the pages of history bear evidence of the summary mode in which they were, for the time, got rid of.

The man from whom Buckingham is said to have procured his poisons was one Dr Lamb, a conjuror and empiric, who, besides dealing in poisons, pretended to be a fortune-teller. The popular fury, which broke with comparative harmlessness against his patron, was directed against this man, until he could not appear with safety in the streets of London. His fate was melancholy. Walking one day in Cheapside, disguised, as he thought, from all observers, he was recognised by some idle boys, who began to hoot and pelt him with rubbish, calling out, 'The poisoner! the poisoner! Down with the wizard! down with him!' A mob very soon collected, and the Doctor took to his heels and ran for his life. He was pursued and seized in Wood Street, and from thence dragged by the hair through the mire to St Paul's Cross; the mob beating him with sticks and stones, and calling out, 'Kill the wizard! kill the poisoner!'

Charles I, on hearing of the riot, rode from Whitehall to quell it; but he arrived too late to save the victim. Every bone in his body was broken, and he was quite dead. Charles was excessively indignant, and fined the city six hundred pounds for its inability to deliver up the ringleaders to justice.

But it was in Italy that poisoning was most prevalent. From a very early period, it seems to have been looked upon in that country as a perfectly justifiable means of getting rid of an enemy. The Italians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries poisoned their opponents with as little compunction as an Englishman of the present day brings an action at law against anyone who has done him an injury. The writings of contemporary authors inform us that, when La Spara and La Tophania carried on their infernal trade, ladies put poison bottles on their dressingtables as openly, and used them with as little scruple upon others, as modern dames use Eau de Cologne or lavender-water upon themselves. So powerful is the influence of fashion, it can even cause murder to be regarded as a venial peccadillo. In the memoirs of the last Duke of Guise, who made a Quixotic attempt, in 1648, to seize upon the government of Naples, we find some curious particulars relative to the popular feeling with regard to poisoning. A man, named Gennaro Annese, who, after the short and extraordinary career of Masaniello the fisherman, had established himself as a sort of captain-general of the populace, rendered himself so obnoxious to the Duke of Guise that the adherents of the latter determined to murder him. The captain of the guard, as the Duke himself very coolly informs us, was requested to undertake this office. It was suggested to him that the poniard would be the most effectual instrument, but the man turned up his eyes with pious horror at the proposition. He was ready to poison Gennaro Annese whenever he might be called upon to do so; but to poniard him, he said, would be disgraceful, and unbecoming an officer of the guards! At last poison was agreed upon, and Augustino Molla, an attorney in the Duke's confidence, brought the bottle containing the liquid to show it to his master. The following is the Duke's own account:

Augustino came to me at night, and told me: 'I have brought you something which will free you from Gennaro. He deserves death, and it is no great matter after what fashion justice is done upon him. Look at this vial, full of clear and beautiful water: in four days' time, it will punish all his treasons. The captain of the guard has undertaken to give it him; and as it has no taste at all, Gennaro will suspect nothing.'

The Duke further informs us that the dose was duly administered; but that Gennaro, fortunately for himself, ate nothing for dinner that day but cabbage dressed with oil, which, acting as an antidote, caused him to vomit profusely, and saved his life. He was exceedingly ill for five days, but never suspected that he had been poisoned.

In process of time, poison vending became a profitable trade. Eleven years after this period, it was carried on at Rome to such an extent that the sluggish government was roused to interference. Beckmann, in his History of Inventions, and Lebret, in his Magazin zum Gebrauche der Staaten Kirche Geschichte, or Magazine of Materials for a History of a State Church, relates that, in the year 1659, it was made known to Pope Alexander VII that great numbers of young women had avowed in the confessional that they had poisoned their husbands with slow poisons. The Catholic clergy, who in general hold the secrets of the confessional so sacred, were shocked and alarmed at the extraordinary prevalence of the crime. Although they refrained from revealing the names of the penitents, they conceived themselves bound to apprise the head of the Church of the enormities that were practised. It was also the subject of general conversation in Rome that young widows were unusually abundant. It was remarked, too, that if any couple lived unhappily together, the husband soon took ill and died. The papal authorities, when once they began to enquire, soon learned that a society of young wives had been formed, and met nightly, for some mysterious purpose, at the house of an old woman named Hieronyma Spara. This hag was a reputed witch and fortune-teller, and acted as president of the young viragos, several of whom, it was afterwards ascertained, belonged to the first families of Rome.

In order to have positive evidence of the practices of this female conclave, a lady was employed by the Government to seek an interview with them. She dressed herself out in the most magnificent style; and having been amply provided with money, she found but little difficulty, when she had stated her object, of procuring an audience of La Spara and her sisterhood. She pretended to be in extreme distress of mind on account of the infidelities and ill-treatment of her husband, and implored La Spara to furnish her with a few drops of the wonderful elixir, the efficacy of which in sending cruel husbands to 'their last long sleep' was so much vaunted by the ladies of Rome. La Spara fell into the snare, and sold her some of her 'drops', at a price commensurate with the supposed wealth of the purchaser.

The liquor thus obtained was subjected to an analysis, and found to be, as was suspected, a slow poison — clear, tasteless, and limpid, like that spoken of by the Duke of Guise. Upon this evidence the house was surrounded by the police, and La Spara and her companions taken into custody. La Spara, who is described as having been a little, ugly, old woman, was put to the torture, but obstinately refused to confess her guilt. Another of the women, named La Gratiosa, had less firmness, and laid bare all the secrets of the infernal sisterhood. Taking a confession, extorted by anguish on the rack, at its true value (nothing at all), there is still sufficient evidence to warrant posterity in the belief of their guilt. They were found guilty, and condemned, according to their degrees of culpability, to various punishments. La Spara, Gratiosa, and three young women, who had poisoned their husbands, were hanged together at Rome. Upwards of thirty women were whipped publicly through the streets; and several, whose high rank screened them from more degrading punishment, were banished from the country, and mulcted in heavy fines. In a few months afterwards, nine women more were hanged for poisoning; and another bevy, including many young and beautiful girls, were whipped half naked through the streets of Rome.

This severity did not put a stop to the practice, and jealous women and avaricious men, anxious to step into the inheritance of fathers, uncles, or brothers, resorted to poison. As it was quite free from taste, colour, and smell, it was administered without exciting suspicion. The skilful vendors compounded it of different degrees of strength, so that the poisoners had only to say whether they wanted their victims to die in a week, a month, or six months, and they were suited with corresponding doses. The vendors were chiefly women, of whom the most celebrated was a hag, named Tophania, who was in this way accessory to the death of upwards of six hundred persons. This woman appears to have been a dealer in poisons from her girlhood, and resided first at Palermo and then at Naples. That entertaining traveller, Father Lebat, has given, in his Letters from Italy, many curious particulars relating to her. When he was at Civita Vecchia, in 1719, the Viceroy of Naples discovered that poison was extensively sold in the latter city, and that it went by the name of aqueta, or little-water. On making further enquiry, he ascertained that Tophania (who was by this time near seventy years of age, and who seems to have begun her evil courses very soon after the execution of La Spara) sent large quantities of it to all parts of Italy in small vials, with the inscription 'Manna of St Nicholas of Barri'.

The tomb of St Nicholas of Barri was celebrated throughout Italy. A miraculous oil was said to ooze from it, which cured nearly all the maladies that flesh is heir to, provided the recipient made use of it with the due degree of faith. La Tophania artfully gave this name to her poison to elude the vigilance of the custom-house officers, who, in common with everybody else, had a pious respect for St Nicholas de Barri and his wonderful oil.

The poison was similar to that manufactured by La Spara. Hahnemann the physician, and father of the homoeopathic doctrine, writing upon this subject, says it was compounded of arsenical neutral salts, occasioning in the victim a gradual loss of appetite, faintness, gnawing pains in the stomach, loss of strength, and wasting of the lungs. The Abbé Gagliardi says that a few drops of it were generally poured into tea, chocolate, or soup, and its effects were slow, and almost imperceptible. Garelli, physician to the Emperor of Austria, in a letter to Hoffmann, says it was crystallised arsenic, dissolved in a large quantity of water by decoction, with the addition (for some unexplained purpose) of the herb cymbalaria. The Neapolitans called it Aqua Toffnina; and it became notorious all over Europe under the name of Aqua Tophania.

Although this woman carried on her infamous traffic so extensively, it was extremely difficult to meet with her. She lived in continual dread of discovery. She constantly changed her name and residence; and pretending to be a person of great godliness, resided in monasteries for months together. Whenever she was more than usually apprehensive of detection, she sought ecclesiastical protection. She was soon apprised of the search made for her by the Viceroy of Naples, and, according to her practice, took refuge in a monastery. Either the search after her was not very rigid, or her measures were exceedingly well taken; for she contrived to elude the vigilance of the authorities for several years. What is still more extraordinary, as showing the ramifications of her system, her trade was still carried on to as great an extent as before. Lebat informs us that she had so great a sympathy for poor wives who hated their husbands and wanted to get rid of them, but could not afford to buy her wonderful aqua, that she made them presents of it.

She was not allowed, however, to play at this game for ever; she was at length discovered in a nunnery, and her retreat cut off. The Viceroy made several representations to the superior to deliver her up, but without effect. The abbess, supported by the archbishop of the diocese, constantly refused. The public curiosity was in consequence so much excited at the additional importance thus thrust upon the criminal, that thousands of persons visited the nunnery in order to catch a glimpse of her.

The patience of the Viceroy appears to have been exhausted by these delays. Being a man of sense, and not a very zealous Catholic, he determined that even the Church should not shield a criminal so atrocious. Setting the privileges of the nunnery at defiance, he sent a troop of soldiers, who broke over the walls and carried her away vi et armis. The Archbishop, Cardinal Pignatelli, was highly indignant, and threatened to excommunicate and lay the whole city under interdict. All the inferior clergy, animated by the esprit du corps, took up the question, and so worked upon the superstitious and bigoted people, that they were ready to rise in a mass to storm the palace of the Viceroy and rescue the prisoner.

These were serious difficulties; but the Viceroy was not a man to be daunted. Indeed, he seems to have acted throughout with a rare union of astuteness, coolness, and energy. To avoid the evil consequences of the threatened excommunication, he placed a guard round the palace of the Archbishop, judging that the latter would not be so foolish as to launch out an anathema which would cause the city to be starved, and himself in it. The marketpeople would not have dared to come to the city with provisions, so long as it remained under the ban. There would have been too much inconvenience to himself and his ghostly brethren in such a measure; and, as the Viceroy anticipated, the good Cardinal reserved his thunders for some other occasion.

Still there was the populace. To quiet their clamour and avert the impending insurrection, the agents of the government adroitly mingled with the people, and spread abroad a report that Tophania had poisoned all the wells and fountains of the city. This was enough. The popular feeling turned against her immediately. Those who, but a moment before, had looked upon her as a saint, now reviled her as a devil, and were as eager for her punishment as they had before been for her escape. Tophania was then put to the torture. She confessed the long catalogue of her crimes, and named all the persons who had employed her. She was shortly afterwards strangled, and her corpse thrown over the wall into the garden of the convent, from whence she had been taken. This appears to have been done to conciliate the clergy, by allowing them, at least, the burial of one who had taken refuge within their precincts.

After her death the mania for poisoning seems to have abated; but we have yet to see what hold it took upon the French people at a somewhat earlier period. So rooted had it become in France between the years 1670 and 1680, that Mme de Sévigné, in one of her letters, expresses her fear that Frenchman and poisoner would become synonymous terms.

As in Italy, the first notice the government received of the prevalence of this crime was given by the clergy, to whom females of high rank, and some among the middle and lower classes, had avowed in the confessional that they had poisoned their husbands. In consequence of these disclosures, two Italians, named Exili and Glaser, were arrested, and thrown into the Bastille, on the charge of compounding and selling the drugs used for these murders. Glaser died in prison, but Exili remained without trial for several months; and there, shortly afterwards, he made the acquaintance of another prisoner, named Sainte Croix, by whose example the crime was still further disseminated among the French people.

The most notorious of the poisoners that derived their pernicious knowledge from this man was Mme de Brinvilliers, a young woman connected both by birth and marriage with some of the noblest families of France. She seems, from her very earliest years, to have been heartless and depraved; and, if we may believe her own confession, was steeped in wickedness ere she had well entered her teens. She was, however, beautiful and accomplished; and, in the eye of the world, seemed exemplary and kind. Guyot de Pitaval, in the Causes Célèbres, and Mme de Sévigné, in her Letters, represent her as mild and agreeable in her manners, and offering no traces on her countenance of the evil soul within. She was married in 1651 to the Marquis de Brinvilliers, with whom she lived unhappily for some years. He was a loose, dissipated character, and was the means of introducing Sainte Croix to his wife, a man who cast a blight upon her life, and dragged her on from crime to crime till her offences became so great that the mind shudders to dwell upon them. For this man she conceived a guilty passion, to gratify which she plunged at once into the gulf of sin. She was drawn to its most loathsome depths ere retribution overtook her.

She had as yet shown a fair outside to the world, and found but little difficulty in effecting a legal separation from her husband, who had not the art to conceal his vices. The proceeding gave great offence to her family. She appears, after this, to have thrown off the mask completely, and carried on her intrigues so openly with her lover, Sainte Croix, that her father, M. D'Aubray, scandalised at her conduct, procured a lettre de cachet, and had him imprisoned in the Bastille for a twelvemonth.

Sainte Croix, who had been in Italy, was a dabbler in poisons. He knew something of the secrets of the detestable La Spara, and improved himself in them from the instructions of Exili, with whom he speedily contracted a sort of friendship. By him he was shown how to prepare, not only the liquid poisons employed in Italy, but that known as succession powder, which afterwards became so celebrated in France. Like his mistress, he appeared amiable, witty, and intelligent, and showed no signs to the world of the two fierce passions, revenge and avarice, which were gnawing at his heart. Both these passions were to be sated on the unfortunate family of D'Aubray; his revenge, because they had imprisoned him; and his avarice, because they were rich. Reckless and extravagant, he was always in want of money, and he had no one to supply him but Mme de Brinvilliers, whose own portion was far from sufficient to satisfy his need. Groaning to think that any impediment should stand between him and wealth, he conceived the horrid idea of poisoning M. D'Aubray her father, and her two brothers, that she might inherit the property. Three murders were nothing to such a villain. He communicated his plan to Mme de Brinvilliers; and she, without the slightest scruple, agreed to aid him: he undertook to compound the poisons, and she to administer them. The zeal and alacrity with which she set to work seem hardly credible. Sainte Croix found her an apt scholar; and she soon became as expert as himself in the manufacture of poisons. To try the strength of the first doses, she used to administer them to dogs, rabbits, and pigeons. Afterwards, wishing to be more certain of their effects, she went round to the hospitals, and administered them to the sick poor in the soups which she brought in apparent charity. None of the poisons were intended to kill at the first dose; so that she could try them once upon an individual without fear of murder. She tried the same atrocious experiment upon the guests at her father's table, by poisoning a pigeon-pie! To be more certain still, she next poisoned herself! When convinced by this desperate essay of the potency of the draught, she procured an antidote from Sainte Croix, and all doubts being removed, commenced operations upon her greyheaded father. She administered the first dose with her own hands, in his chocolate. The poison worked well. The old man was taken ill, and his daughter, apparently full of tenderness and anxiety, watched by his bedside. The next day she gave him some broth, which she recommended as highly nourishing. This also was poisoned. In this manner she gradually wore out his frame, and in less than ten days he was a corpse! His death seemed so much the result of disease, that no suspicions were excited.

When the two brothers arrived from the provinces to render the last sad duties to their sire, they found their sister as grieved, to all outward appearance, as even filial affection could desire: but the young men only came to perish. They stood between Sainte Croix and the already half-clutched gold, and their doom was sealed. A man, named La Chaussée, was hired by Sainte Croix to aid in administering the poisons; and, in less than six weeks' time, they had both gone to their long home.

Suspicion was now excited; but so cautiously had all been done, that it found no one upon whom to attach itself. The Marquise had a sister, and she was entitled, by the death of her relatives, to half the property. Less than the whole would not satisfy Sainte Croix, and he determined that she should die the same death as her father and brothers. She was too distrustful, however; and, by quitting Paris, she escaped the destruction that was lurking for her.

The Marquise had undertaken these murders to please her lover. She was now anxious to perpetrate another on her own account. She wished to marry Sainte Croix; but, though separated from her husband, she was not divorced. She thought it would be easier to poison him than to apply to the tribunals for a divorce, which might, perhaps, be refused. But Sainte Croix had no longer any love for his guilty instrument. Bad men do not admire others who are as bad as themselves. Though a villain himself, he had no desire to marry one, and was not at all anxious for the death of the Marquis. He seemed, however, to enter into the plot, and supplied her with poison for her husband: but he took care to provide a remedy. La Brinvilliers poisoned him one day, and Sainte Croix gave him an antidote the next. In this manner he was buffetted about between them for some time, and finally escaped with a ruined constitution and a broken heart.

But the day of retribution was at hand, and a terrible mischance brought the murders to light. The nature of the poisons compounded by Sainte Croix was so deadly, that, when working in his laboratory, he was obliged to wear a mask, to preserve himself from suffocation. One day, the mask slipped off, and the miserable wretch perished in his crimes. His corpse was found, on the following morning, in the obscure lodging where he had fitted up his laboratory. As he appeared to be without friends or relatives, the police took possession of his effects. Among other things was found a small box, to which was affixed the following singular document:

I humbly beg, that those into whose hands this box may fall, will do me the favour to deliver it into the hands only of the Marchioness de Brinvilliers, who resides in the Rue Neuve St Paul, as everything it contains concerns her, and belongs to her alone; and as, besides, there is nothing in it that can be of use to any person but her. In case she shall be dead before me, it is my wish that it be burned, with everything it contains, without opening or altering anything. In order that no one may plead ignorance, I swear by the God that I adore, and by all that is held most sacred, that I assert nothing but the truth: and if my intentions, just and reasonable as they are, be thwarted in this point by any persons, I charge their consciences with it, both in this world and that which is to come, in order that I may unload mine. I protest that this is my last will. Done at Paris, the 25th of May, 1672.

(Signed) Sainte Croix

This earnest solicitation, instead of insuring respect as was intended, excited curiosity. The box was opened, and found to contain some papers, and several vials and powders. The latter were handed to a chemist for analysis, and the documents were retained by the police, and opened. Among them was found a promissory note of the Marchioness de Brinvilliers, for thirty thousand francs, to the order of Sainte Croix. The other papers were of greater importance, as they implicated both her and her servant, La Chaussée, in the recent murders. As soon as she was informed of the death of Sainte Croix, she made an attempt to gain possession of his papers and the box; but, being refused, she saw that there was no time to be lost, and immediately quitted. Next morning the police were on her trail; but she succeeded in escaping to England. La Chaussée was not so fortunate. Altogether ignorant of the fatal mischance which had brought his villainies to light, he did not dream of danger. He was arrested and brought to trial: being put to the torture, he confessed that he had administered poison to the Messieurs d'Aubray, and that he had received a hundred pistoles, and the promise of an annuity for life, from Sainte Croix and Mme de Brinvilliers, for the job. He was condemned to be broken alive on the wheel, and the Marchioness was, by default, sentenced to be beheaded. He was executed accordingly, in March 1673, on the Place de Grève, in Paris.

La Brinvilliers appears to have resided for nearly three years in England. Early in 1676, thinking that the rigour of pursuit was over, and that she might venture to return to the Continent, she proceeded secretly to Liège. Notwithstanding her care, the French authorities were soon apprised of her return; and arrangements were promptly made with the municipality of that city, to permit the agents of the French police to arrest her within the limits of their jurisdiction. Desgrais, an officer of the Maréchausée, accordingly left Paris for that purpose. On his arrival in Liège, he found that she had sought shelter within the walls of a convent. Here the arm of the law, long as it is said to be, could not reach her: but Desgrais was not a man to be baffled, and he resorted to stratagem to accomplish what force could not. Having disguised himself as a priest, he sought admission to the convent, and obtained an interview with La Brinvilliers. He said, that being a Frenchman, and passing through Liège, he could not leave that city without paying a visit to a lady whose beauty and misfortunes were so celebrated. Her vanity was flattered by the compliment. Desgrais saw, to use a vulgar but forcible expression, 'that he had got on the blind side of her'; and he adroitly continued to pour out the language of love and admiration, till the deluded Marchioness was thrown completely off her guard. She agreed, without much solicitation, to meet him outside the walls of the convent, where their amorous intrigue might be carried on more conveniently than within. Faithful to her appointment with her supposed new lover, she came, and found herself, not in the embrace of a gallant, but in the custody of a policeman.

Her trial was not long delayed. The proofs against her were abundant. The dying declaration of La Chaussée would have been alone enough to convict her; but besides that, there were the mysterious document attached to the box of St Croix; her flight from France; and, stronger and more damning proof than all, a paper, in her own handwriting, found among the effects of St Croix, in which she detailed to him the misdeeds of her life, and spoke of the murder of her father and brothers, in terms that left no doubt of her guilt. During the trial, all Paris was in commotion. La Brinvilliers was the only subject of conversation. All the details of her crimes were published, and greedily devoured; and the idea of secret poisoning was first put into the heads of hundreds, who afterwards became guilty of it.

On the 16th of July 1676, the Superior Criminal Court of Paris pronounced a verdict of guilty against her, for the murder of her father and brothers, and the attempt upon the life of her sister. She was condemned to be drawn on a hurdle, with her feet bare, a rope about her neck, and a burning torch in her hand, to the great entrance of the cathedral of Notre Dame; where she was to make the amende honorable, in sight of all the people; to be taken from thence to the Place de Grève, and there to be beheaded. Her body was afterwards to be burned, and her ashes scattered to the winds.

After her sentence, she made a full confession of her guilt. She seems to have looked upon death without fear; but it was recklessness, not courage, that supported her. Mme de Sévigné says, that when on the hurdle, on her way to the scaffold, she entreated her confessor to exert his influence with the executioner to place himself next to her, that his body might hide from her view 'that scoundrel, Desgrais, who had entrapped her'. She also asked the ladies, who had been drawn to their windows to witness the procession, what they were looking at? adding, 'a pretty sight you have come to see, truly!' She laughed when on the scaffold, dying as she had lived, impenitent and heartless. On the morrow, the populace came in crowds to collect her ashes, to preserve them as relics. She was regarded as a martyred saint, and her ashes were supposed to be endowed, by Divine grace, with the power of curing all diseases. Popular folly has often canonised persons whose pretensions to sanctity were extremely equivocal; but the disgusting folly of the multitude, in this instance, has never been surpassed.

Before her death, proceedings were instituted against M. de Penautier, treasurer of the province of Languedoc, and Receiver-general for the clergy, who was accused by a lady, named St Laurent, of having poisoned her husband, the late Receiver-general, in order to obtain his appointment. The circumstances of this case were never divulged, and the greatest influence was exerted to prevent it from going to trial. He was known to have been intimate with Sainte Croix and Mme de Brinvilliers, and was thought to have procured his poisons from them. The latter, however, refused to say anything which might implicate him. The enquiry was eventually stifled, after Penautier had been several months in the Bastille.

The Cardinal de Bonzy was accused by the gossips of the day of being an accomplice of Penautier. The Cardinal's estates were burthened with the payment of several heavy annuities; but, about the time that poisoning became so fashionable, all the annuitants died off, one after the other. The Cardinal, in talking of these annuitants, afterwards used to say, 'Thanks to my star, I have outlived them all!' A wit, seeing him and Penautier riding in the same carriage, cried out, in allusion to this expression, 'There go the Cardinal de Bonzy and his star!'

It was now that the mania for poisoning began to take hold of the popular mind. From this time until the year 1682, the prisons of France teemed with persons accused of this crime; and it is very singular, that other offences decreased in a similar proportion. We have already seen the extent to which it was carried in Italy. It was, if possible, surpassed in France. The diabolical ease with which these murders could be effected, by means of these scentless and tasteless poisons, enticed the evil-minded. Jealousy, revenge, avarice, even petty spite, alike resorted to them. Those who would have been deterred, by fear of detection, from using the pistol or the dagger, or even strong doses of poison, which kill at once, employed slow poisons without dread. The corrupt Government of the day, although it could wink at the atrocities of a wealthy and influential courtier, like Penautier, was scandalised to see the crime spreading among the people. Disgrace was, in fact, entailed, in the eyes of Europe, upon the name of Frenchman. Louis XIV, to put a stop to the evil, instituted what was called the Chambre Ardente, or Burning Chamber, with extensive powers, for the trial and punishment of the prisoners.

Two women, especially, made themselves notorious at this time, and were instrumental to the deaths of hundreds of individuals. They both resided in Paris, and were named Lavoisin and Lavigoreux. Like Spars and Tophania, of whom they were imitators, they chiefly sold their poisons to women who wanted to get rid of their husbands; and, in some few instances, to husbands who wanted to get rid of their wives. Their ostensible occupation was that of midwives. They also pretended to be fortune-tellers, and were visited by persons of every class of society. The rich and poor thronged alike to their mansardes, to learn the secrets of the future. Their prophecies were principally of death. They foretold to women the approaching dissolution of husbands, and to needy heirs, the end of rich relatives, who had made them, as Byron expresses it, 'wait too, too long already'. They generally took care to be instrumental in fulfilling their own predictions. They used to tell their wretched employers, that some sign of the approaching death would take place in the house, such as the breaking of glass or china; and they paid servants considerable fees to cause a breakage, as if by accident, exactly at the appointed time. Their occupation as midwives made them acquainted with the secrets of many families, which they afterwards turned to dreadful account.

It is not known how long they had carried on this awful trade before they were discovered. Detection finally overtook them at the close of the year 1679. They were both tried, found guilty, and burned alive on the Place de Grève, on the 22nd of February, 1680, after their hands had been bored through with a red-hot iron, and then cut off. Their numerous accomplices in Paris and in the provinces were also discovered and brought to trial. According to some authors, thirty, and to others, fifty of them, chiefly women, were hanged in the principal cities.

Lavoisin kept a list of the visiters who came to her house to purchase poisons. This paper was seized by the police on her arrest, and examined by the tribunals. Among the names were found those of the Marshal de Luxembourg, the Countess de Soissons, and the Duchess de Bouillon. The Marshal seems only to have been guilty of a piece of discreditable folly in visiting a woman of this description, but the popular voice at the time imputed to him something more than folly. The author of the Memoirs of the Affairs of Europe since the Peace of Utrecht, says, 'The miserable gang who dealt in poison and prophecy alleged that he had sold himself to the devil, and that a young girl of the name of Dupin had been poisoned by his means. Among other stories, they said he had made a contract with the devil, in order to marry his son to the daughter of the Marquis of Louvois. To this atrocious and absurd accusation the Marshal, who had surrendered himself at the Bastille on the first accusation against him, replied with the mingled sentiment of pride and innocence, "When Mathieu de Montmorenci, my ancestor, married the widow of Louis le Gros, he did not have recourse to the devil, but to the States-General, in order to obtain for the minor king the support of the house of Montmorenci." This brave man was imprisoned in a cell six feet and a half long, and his trial, which was interrupted for several weeks, lasted altogether fourteen months. No judgement was pronounced upon him.'

The Countess of Soissons fled to Brussels, rather than undergo the risk of a trial; and was never able to clear herself from the stigma that attached to her, of having made an attempt to poison the Queen of Spain by doses of succession powder. The Duchess of Bouillon was arrested, and tried by the Chambre Ardente. It would appear, however, that she had nothing to do with the slow poisons, but had merely endeavoured to pry into the secrets of futurity, and gratify her curiosity with a sight of the devil. One of the presidents of the Chambre, La Reynie, an ugly little old man, very seriously asked her whether she had really seen the devil; to which the lady replied, looking him full in the face, 'Oh yes! I see him now. He is in the form of a little ugly old man, exceedingly ill-natured, and is dressed in the robes of a counsellor of State.' M. la Reynie prudently refrained from asking any more questions of a lady with so sharp and ready a tongue. The Duchess was imprisoned for several months in the Bastille; and nothing being proved against her, she was released at the intercession of her powerful friends. The severe punishment of criminals of this note might have helped to abate the fever of imitation among the vulgar; their comparative impunity had a contrary tendency. The escape of Penautier, and the wealthy Cardinal de Bonzy his employer, had the most pernicious effect. For two years longer the crime continued to rage, and was not finally suppressed till the stake had blazed, or the noose dangled, for upwards of a hundred individuals.〔2〕

注　释

〔1〕 The punishment for the contumacious was expressed by the words onere, frigore, et fame. By the first was meant that the culprit should be extended on his back on the ground, and weights placed over his body, gradually increased, until he expired. Sometimes the punishment was not extended to this length, and the victim, being allowed to recover, underwent the second portion, the frigore, which consisted in his standing naked in the open air, for a certain space, in the sight of all the people. The third, or fame, was more dreadful, the statute saying, 'That he was to be preserved with the coarsest bread that could be got, and water out of the next sink or puddle, to the place of execution; and that day he had water he should have no bread, and that day he had bread, he should have no water'; and in this torment he was to linger as long as nature would hold out.

〔2〕 Slow poisoning is a crime which has unhappily been revived in England within the last few years, and which has been carried to an extent sufficient to cast a stain upon the national character. The poisoners have been principally women of the lowest class, and their victims have been their husbands or their children. The motive for the crime has in most instances been the basest that can be imagined, the desire to obtain from burial-clubs to which they subscribed, the premium, or burial-money. A recent enactment, restricting the sale of arsenic and other poisons, will, it is to be hoped, check if it do not extirpate, this abominable crime (1851).