四季随笔-the private papers of henry ryecroft(英文版)-第31部分

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self　is　that　habit　of　mind　which　urges　me　to　seek　knowledge。　Was　I　not　yesterday　on　the　point　of　ordering　a　huge　work　of　erudition；　which　I　should　certainly　never　have　read　through；　and　which　would　only　have　served　to　waste　precious　days？　It　is　the　Puritan　in　my　blood；　I　suppose；　which　forbids　me　to　recognise　frankly　that　all　I　have　now　to　do　is　to　ENJOY。　This　is　wisdom。　The　time　for　acquisition　has　gone　by。　I　am　not　foolish　enough　to　set　myself　learning　a　new　language；　why　should　I　try　to　store　my　memory　with　useless　knowledge　of　the　past？
e；　once　more　before　I　die　I　will　read　Don　Quixote。
XVIII
Somebody　has　been　making　a　speech；　reported　at　a　couple　of　columns'　length　in　the　paper。　As　I　glance　down　the　waste　of　print；　one　word　catches　my　eye　again　and　again。　It's　all　about　〃science〃……and　therefore　doesn't　concern　me。
I　wonder　whether　there　are　many　men　who　have　the　same　feeling　with　regard　to　〃science〃　as　I　have？　It　is　something　more　than　a　prejudice；　often　it　takes　the　form　of　a　dread；　almost　a　terror。　Even　those　branches　of　science　which　are　concerned　with　things　that　interest　me……which　deal　with　plants　and　animals　and　the　heaven　of　stars……even　these　I　cannot　contemplate　without　uneasiness；　a　spiritual　disaffection；　new　discoveries；　new　theories；　however　they　engage　my　intelligence；　soon　weary　me；　and　in　some　way　depress。　When　it　es　to　other　kinds　of　science……the　sciences　blatant　and　ubiquitous……the　science　by　which　men　bee　millionaires……I　am　possessed　with　an　angry　hostility；　a　resentful　apprehension。　This　was　born　in　me；　no　doubt；　I　cannot　trace　it　to　circumstances　of　my　life；　or　to　any　particular　moment　of　my　mental　growth。　My　boyish　delight　in　Carlyle　doubtless　nourished　the　temper；　but　did　not　Carlyle　so　delight　me　because　of　what　was　already　in　my　mind？　I　remember；　as　a　lad；　looking　at　plicated　machinery　with　a　shrinking　uneasiness　which；　of　course；　I　did　not　understand；　I　remember　the　sort　of　disturbed　contemptuousness　with　which；　in　my　time　of　〃examinations；〃　I　dismissed　〃science　papers。〃　It　is　intelligible　enough　to　me；　now；　that　unformed　fear：　the　ground　of　my　antipathy　has　grown　clear　enough。　I　hate　and　fear　〃science〃　because　of　my　conviction　that；　for　long　to　e　if　not　for　ever；　it　will　be　the　remorseless　enemy　of　mankind。　I　see　it　destroying　all　simplicity　and　gentleness　of　life；　all　the　beauty　of　the　world；　I　see　it　restoring　barbarism　under　a　mask　of　civilization；　I　see　it　darkening　men's　minds　and　hardening　their　hearts；　I　see　it　bringing　a　time　of　vast　conflicts；　which　will　pale　into　insignificance　〃the　thousand　wars　of　old；〃　and；　as　likely　as　not；　will　whelm　all　the　laborious　advances　of　mankind　in　blood…drenched　chaos。
Yet　to　rail　against　it　is　as　idle　as　to　quarrel　with　any　other　force　of　nature。　For　myself；　I　can　hold　apart；　and　see　as　little　as　possible　of　the　thing　I　deem　accursed。　But　I　think　of　some　who　are　dear　to　me；　whose　life　will　be　lived　in　the　hard　and　fierce　new　age。　The　roaring　〃Jubilee〃　of　last　summer　was　for　me　an　occasion　of　sadness；　it　meant　that　so　much　was　over　and　gone……so　much　of　good　and　noble；　the　like　of　which　the　world　will　not　see　again；　and　that　a　new　time　of　which　only　the　perils　are　clearly　visible；　is　rushing　upon　us。　Oh；　the　generous　hopes　and　aspirations　of　forty　years　ago！　Science；　then；　was　seen　as　the　deliverer；　only　a　few　could　prophesy　its　tyranny；　could　foresee　that　it　would　revive　old　evils　and　trample　on　the　promises　of　its　beginning。　This　is　the　course　of　things；　we　must　accept　it。　But　it　is　some　fort　to　me　that　I……　poor　little　mortal……have　had　no　part　in　bringing　the　tyrant　to　his　throne。
XIX
The　Christmas　bells　drew　me　forth　this　morning。　With　but　half…　formed　purpose；　I　walked　through　soft；　hazy　sunshine　towards　the　city；　and　came　into　the　Cathedral　Close；　and；　after　lingering　awhile；　heard　the　first　notes　of　the　organ；　and　so　entered。　I　believe　it　is　more　than　thirty　years　since　I　was　in　an　English　church　on　Christmas　Day。　The　old　time　and　the　old　faces　lived　again　for　me；　I　saw　myself　on　the　far　side　of　the　abyss　of　years……that　self　which　is　not　myself　at　all；　though　I　mark　points　of　kindred　between　the　beings　of　then　and　now。　He　who　in　that　other　world　sat　to　hear　the　Christmas　gospel；　either　heeded　it　not　at　all……rapt　in　his　own　visions……or　listened　only　as　one　in　whose　blood　was　heresy。　He　loved　the　notes　of　the　organ；　but；　even　in　his　childish　mind；　distinguished　clearly　between　the　music　and　its　local　motive。　More　than　that；　he　could　separate　the　melody　of　word　and　of　thought　from　their　dogmatic　significance；　enjoying　the　one　whilst　wholly　rejecting　the　other。　〃On　earth　peace；　goodwill　to　men〃……already　that　line　was　among　the　treasures　of　his　intellect；　but　only；　no　doubt；　because　of　its　rhythm；　its　sonority。　Life；　to　him；　was　a　half…conscious　striving　for　the　harmonic　in　thought　and　speech……and　through　what　a　tumult　of　unmelodious　circumstance　was　he　beginning　to　fight　his　way！
To…day；　I　listen　with　no　heretical　promptings。　The　music；　whether　of　organ　or　of　word；　is　more　to　me　than　ever；　the　literal　meaning　causes　me　no　restiveness。　I　felt　only　glad　that　I　had　yielded　to　the　summons　of　the　Christmas　bells。　I　sat　among　a　congregation　of　shadows；　not　in　the　great　cathedral；　but　in　a　little　parish　church　far　from　here。　When　I　came　forth；　it　astonished　me　to　see　the　softly　radiant　sky；　and　to　tread　on　the　moist　earth；　my　dream　expected　a　wind…swept　canopy　of　cold　grey；　and　all　beneath　it　the　gleam　of　new…fallen　snow。　It　is　a　piety　to　turn　awhile　and　live　with　the　dead；　and　who　can　so　well　indulge　it　as　he　whose　Christmas　is　passed　in　no　unhappy　solitude？　I　would　not　now；　if　I　might；　be　one　of　a　joyous　pany；　it　is　better　to　hear　the　long…silent　voices；　and　to　smile　at　happy　things　which　I　alone　can　remember。　When　I　was　scarce　old　enough　to　understand；　I　heard　read　by　the　fireside　the　Christmas　stanzas　of　〃In　Memoriam。〃　To…night　I　have　taken　down　the　volume；　and　the　voice　of　so　long　ago　has　read　to　me　once　again……read　as　no　other　ever　did；　that　voice　which　taught　me　to　know　poetry；　the　voice　which　never　spoke　to　me　but　of　good　and　noble　things。　Would　I　have　those　accents　overborne　by　a　living　tongue；　however　wele　its　sound　at　another　time？　Jealously　I　guard　my　Christmas　solitude。
XX
Is　it　true　that　the　English　are　deeply　branded　with　the　vice　of　hypocrisy？　The　accusation；　of　course；　dates　from　the　time　of　the　Round…heads；　before　that；　nothing　in　the　national　character　could　have　suggested　it。　The　England　of　Chaucer；　the　England　of　Shakespeare；　assuredly　was　not　hypocrite。　The　change　wrought　by　Puritanism　introduced　into　the　life　of　the　people　that　new　element　which　ever　since；　more　or　less　notably；　has　suggested　to　the　observer　a　habit　of　double…dealing　in　morality　and　religion。　The　scorn　of　the　Cavalier　is　easily　understood；　it　created　a　traditional　Cromwell；　who；　till　Carlyle　arose；　figured　before　the　world　as　our　arch…dissembler。　With　the　decline　of　genuine　Puritanism　came　that　peculiarly　English　manifestation　of　piety　and　virtue　which　is　represented　by　Mr。　Pecksniff……a　being　so　utterly　different　from　Tartufe；　and　perhaps　impossible　to　be　understood　save　by　Englishmen　themselves。　But　it　is　in　our　own　time　that　the　familiar　reproach　has　been　persistently　levelled　at　us。　It　often　sounds　upon　the　lips　of　our　emancipated　youth；　it　is　stereotyped　for　daily　impression　in　the　offices　of　Continental　newspapers。　And　for　the　reason　one　has　not　far　to　look。　When　Napoleon　called　us　a　〃nation　of　shop…　keepers；〃　we　were　nothing　of　the　kind；　since　his　day　we　have　bee　so；　in　the　strictest　sense　of　the　word；　and　consider　the　spectacle　of　a　flourishing　tradesman；　anything　but　scrupulous　in　his　methods　of　business；　who　loses　no　opportunity　of　bidding　all　mankind　to　regard　him　as　a　religious　and　moral　exemplar。　This　is　the　actual　show　of　things　with　us；　this　is　the　England　seen　by　our　bitterest　censors。　There　is　an　excuse　for　those　who　charge　us　with　〃hypocrisy。〃
But　the　word　is　ill…chosen；　and　indicates　a　misconception。　The　characteristic　of　your　true　hypocrite　is　the　assumption　of　a　virtue　which　not　only　he　has　not；　but　which　he　is　incapable　of　possessing；　and　in　which　he　does　not　believe。　The　hypocrite　may　have；　most　likely　has；　（for　he　is　a　man　of　brains；）　a　conscious　rule　of　life；　but　it　is　never　that　of　the　person　to　whom　his　hypocrisy　is　directed。　Tartufe　incarnates　him　once　for　all。　Tartufe　is　by　conviction　an　atheist　and　a　sensualist；　he　despises　all　who　regard　life　from　the　contrasted　point　of　view。　But　among　Englishmen　such　an　attitude　of　mind　has　always　been　extremely　rare；　to　presume　it　in　our　typical　money…maker　who　has　edifying　sentiments　on　his　lips　is　to　fall　into　a　grotesque　error　of　judgment。　No　doubt　that　error　is　mitted　by　the　ordinary　foreign　journalist；　a　man　who　knows　less　than　little　of　English　civilization。　More　enlightened　critics；　if　they　use　the　word　at　all；　do　so　carelessly；　when　speaking　with　more　precision；　they　call　the　English　〃pharisaic〃……and　e　nearer　the　truth。
Our　vice　is　self…righteousness。　We　are　essentially　an　Old　Testament　people；　Christianity　has　never　entered　into　our　soul　we　see　ourselves　as　the　Chosen；　and　by　no　effort　of　spiritual　aspiration　can　attain　unto　humility。　In　this　there　is　nothing　hypocritic。　The　blatant　upstart　who　builds　a　church；　lays　out　his　money　in　that　way　not　merely　to　win　social　consideration；　in　his　curious　little　soul　he　believes　（so　far　as　he　can　believe　anything）　that　what　he　has　done　is　pleasing　to　God　and　beneficial　to　mankind。　He　may　have　lied　and　cheated　for　every　sovereign　he　possesses；　he　may　have　polluted　his　life　with　uncleanness；　he　may　have　perpetrated　many　kinds　of　cruelty　and　baseness……but　all　these　things　has　he　done　against　his　conscience；　and；　as　soon　as　the　opportunity　es；　he　will　make　atonement　for　them　in　the　way　suggested　by　such　faith　as　he　has；　the　way　approved　by　public　opinion。　His　religion；　strictly　defined；　is　AN　INERADICABLE　BELIEF　IN　HIS　OWN　RELIGIOUSNESS。　As　an　Englishman；　he　holds　as　birthright　the　true　Piety；　the　true　Morals。　That　he　has　〃gone　wrong〃　is；　alas；　undeniable；　but　never……even　when　leering　most　satirically……did　he　deny　his　creed。　When；　at　public　dinners　and　elsewhere；　he　tuned　his　voice　to　the　note　of　edification；　this　man　did　not　utter　the　lie　of　the　hypocrite　he　MEANT