亨利·大衛·梭羅/Henry David Thoreau
This is a delicious evening,when the whole body is one sense,and i mbibes delight through every pore.I go and come with a strange liberty in Nature,a part of herself.As I walk along the stony shore of the pon d in my shirt-sleeves,though it is cool as well as cloudy and windy,an d I see nothing special to attract me,all the elements are unusually co ngenial to me.The bullfrogs trump to usher in the night,and the note o f the whippoorwill is borne on the rippling wind from over the water.Sy mpathy with the fluttering alder and poplar leaves almost takes away my breath;yet,like the lake,my serenity is rippled but not ruffled.Thes e small waves raised by the evening wind are as remote from storm as the smooth reflecting surface.Though it is now dark,the wind still blows a nd roars in the wood,the waves still dash,and some creatures lull the rest with their notes.The repose is never complete.The wildest animals do not repose,but seek their prey now;the fox,and skunk,and rabbit,now roam the fields and woods without fear.They are Nature's watchmen--links which connect the days of animated life.
When I return to my house I find that visitors have been there and l eft their cards,either a bunch of flowers,or a wreath of evergreen,or a name in pencil on a yellow walnut leaf or a chip.They who come rarely to the woods take some little piece of the forest into their hands to pl ay with by the way,which they leave,either intentionally or accidental ly.One has peeled a willow wand,woven it into a ring,and dropped it o n my table.I could always tell if visitors had called in my absence,ei ther by the bended twigs or grass,or the print of their shoes,and gene rally of what sex or age or quality they were by some slight trace left,as a flower dropped,or a bunch of grass plucked and thrown away,even a s far off as the railroad,half a mile distant,or by the lingering odor of a cigar or pipe.Nay,I was frequently notified of the passage of a t raveller along the highway sixty rods off by the scent of his pipe.
There is commonly sufficient space about us.Our horizon is never qu ite at our elbows.The thick wood is not just at our door,nor the pond,but somewhat is always clearing,familiar and worn by us,appropriated a nd fenced in some way,and reclaimed from Nature.For what reason have I this vast range and circuit,some square miles of unfrequented forest,f or my privacy,abandoned to me by men?My nearest neighbor is a mile di stant,and no house is visible from any place but the hill-tops within h alf a mile of my own.I have my horizon bounded by woods all to myself;a distant view of the railroad where it touches the pond on the one hand,and of the fence which skirts the woodland road on the other.But for the most part it is as solitary where I live as on the prairies.It is a s much Asia or Africa as New England.I have,as it were,my own sun and moon and stars,and a little world all to myself.At night there was nev er a traveller passed my house,or knocked at my door,more than if I we re the first or last man;unless it were in the spring,when at long int ervals some came from the village to fish for pouts--they plainly fished much more in the Walden Pond of their own natures,and baited their hook s with darkness--but they soon retreated,usually with light baskets,an d left he world to darkness and to me,and the black kernel of the night was never profaned by any human neighborhood.I believe that men are gen erally still a little afraid of the dark,though the witches are all hun g,and Christianity and candles have been introduced.
Yet I experienced sometimes that the most sweet and tender,the most innocent and encouraging society may be found in any natural object,eve n for the poor misanthrope and most melancholy man.There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature and has his sen ses still.While I enjoy the friendship of the seasons I trust that noth ing can make life a burden to me.
Men frequently say to me,"I should think you would feel lonesome do wn there,and want to be nearer to folks,rainy and snowy days and night s especially." I am tempted to reply to such--this whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in space.How far apart,think you,dwell the two most distant inhabitants of yonder star,the breadth of whose disk canno t be appreciated by our instruments?Why should I feel lonely?Is not ou r planet in the Milky Way?This which you put seems to me not to be the most important question.What sort of space is that which separates a ma n from his fellows and makes him solitary?I have found that no exertion of the legs can bring two minds much nearer to one another.
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I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time.To be in company,even with the best,is soon wearisome and dissipating.I lov e to be alone.I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among m en than when we stay in our chambers.A man thinking or working is alway s alone,let him be where he will.Solitude is not measured by the miles of space that intervene between a man and his fellows.The really dilige nt student in one of the crowded hives of Cambridge College is as solita ry as a dervish in the desert.The farmer can work alone in the field or the woods all day,hoeing or chopping,and not feel lonesome,because he is employed;but when he comes home at night he cannot sit down in a roo m alone,at the mercy of his thoughts,but must be where he can "see the folks," and recreate,and,as he thinks,remunerate himself for his day's solitude;and hence he wonders how the student can sit alone in the ho use all night and most of the day without ennui and "the blues";but he does not realize that the student,though in the house,is still at work in his field,and chopping in his woods,as the farmer in his,and in tu rn seeks the same recreation and society that the latter does,though it may be a more condensed form of it.
Society is commonly too cheap.We meet at very short intervals,not having had time to acquire any new value for each other.We meet at meal s three times a day,and give each other a new taste of that old musty c heese that we are.We have had to agree on a certain set of rules,calle d etiquette and politeness,to make this frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war.We meet at the post-office,and at th e sociable,and about the fireside every night;we live thick and are in each other's way,and stumble over one another,and I think that we thu s lose some respect for one another.Certainly less frequency would suff ice for all important and hearty communications.Consider the girls in a factory--never alone,hardly in their dreams.It would be better if ther e were but one inhabitant to a square mile,as where I live.The value o f a man is not in his skin,that we should touch him.
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I have a great deal of company in my house;especially in the morning,when nobody calls.Let me suggest a few comparisons,that some one may convey an idea of my situation.I am no more lonely than the loon in the pond that laughs so loud,or than Walden Pond itself.What company has t hat lonely lake,I pray.And yet it has not the blue devils,but the blu e angels in it,in the azure tint of its waters.The sun is alone,excep t in thick weather,when there sometimes appear to be two,but one is a mock sun.God is alone--but the devil,he is far from being alone;he se es a great deal of company;he is legion.I am no more lonely than a sin gle mullein or dandelion in a pasture,or a bean leaf,or sorrel,or a h orse-fly,or a bumblebee.I am no more lonely than the Mill Brook,or a weathercock,or the north star,or the south wind,or an April shower,o r a January thaw,or the first spider in a new house.
這是一個愉快的夜晚，周身就隻有一種感覺，全身的毛孔都浸透著喜悅。我以一種奇異的姿態穿行於大自然之間，成為她的一部分。我身著襯衫，漫步於鋪滿石頭的湖濱，雖然天氣有些寒冷，雲多風也大，而且我也沒看到什麽吸引了我的東西，沒有什麽很讓我掛心的事情，但這樣的天氣對於我卻是很適宜的。牛蛙用嗚嗚的低鳴聲叫來了黑夜，晚風讓湖麵**起漣漪，湖麵上也傳來了夜鷹的音樂。赤楊和白楊樹風搖曳，激起我的**，使我無法呼吸，然而像湖麵一樣，我的寧靜也是水波不興，如鏡麵般平靜的湖水，不會掀起驚濤駭浪。天雖然已經黑了，可是風還在森林裏吹拂咆哮，浪濤依舊拍打著湖岸，一些動物還在奏樂，催使其他動物入眠，這裏沒有絕對的寧靜。最凶猛的動物還沒有安靜下來，正在尋覓它們的獵物；狐狸、臭鼬、兔子，也還在原野上漫遊，在這大森林裏，它們一點都不感到恐懼，它們是大自然的守護者——是連接著一個個生機勃勃的白天的鏈環。
當我回到家裏的時候，發現有客人來訪過，他們還留下了名片，要麽是一束花，要麽是一個常青樹的花環，要麽是在黃色的胡桃葉或木片上用鉛筆寫下的名字。那些不經常到森林的人喜歡一路上拿些小玩意兒在手上玩，有時是故意地，有時是偶然地就把它們留下了。有一位客人剝下了柳樹皮，用來做了一個環圈，放在我的桌子上。我總是可以知道在我出門的時候有沒有客人來過，不是樹枝或青草彎倒了，就是一些腳印被留下了。一般情況下，我還能從他們留下的微妙痕跡裏猜測出他們的年齡、性別和性格；有的丟下了花朵，有的抓來一把草又把它扔掉，甚至還有些一直帶到半英裏外的鐵路上才扔掉；也有的時候，這裏還殘留著雪茄煙和煙鬥的味道。我經常從煙鬥的味道裏注意到六十杆之外的公路上正在行走的旅行者。
應該說我們周圍的空間是很大的。我們不可能一伸手就觸摸到地平線。鬱鬱蔥蔥的森林或湖泊也並不是就在我的門口，在這中間還有一塊我們熟悉而且使用著的空地，我們多多少少整理了一些，還圍了籬笆。我們仿佛是從大自然手中把它索取來的。我有什麽理由要占領這麽大的範圍和規模，為什麽這不見人煙、遭受人類遺棄、有著這麽大麵積的森林會歸我所有呢？離我最近的鄰居在一英裏外，見不到什麽房子，除非登上半裏以外的小山頂舉目遠眺，才能看見一點房屋。我的地平線被森林包圍起來，供我獨自享用，望得最遠的地方，也隻是湖的一端鋪設的鐵路和湖的另一端沿著山林的公路上圍建的籬笆。從大體上看，我居住在這個地方，和生活在大草原上一樣寂寞。這裏離新英格蘭像離亞洲和非洲一樣遠。可以說，我擁有自己的太陽、月亮和星星，這是一個完全屬於自己的小世界。晚上的時候，從來沒有人經過我的屋子，或者是敲我的門，我仿佛成了人類的第一個人或是最後一個人。除非是在春天，隔了很長時間，才會有人來釣魚，而在瓦爾登湖，很顯然他們隻能釣到自己的本性，而魚鉤也隻能鉤起黑夜——於是他們很快就走了，常常是帶著輕飄飄的魚簍離開的，把“世界留給黑夜和我”，而黑夜的核心從來沒有被人類任何一個鄰舍褻瀆過。我確信，通常人們還是有些害怕黑暗的，雖然妖魔都被絞死了，基督教和蠟燭的火焰也被引進來了。
然而有時我會有這樣的經曆，在任何一樣大自然的事物中，你總能找到最甜蜜、最柔和、最純真、最讓人精神振奮的伴侶，就是對那些憤世嫉俗和憂心忡忡的人也是一樣。生活在大自然中，隻要感官還在發揮作用，就不可能有太深重的憂鬱，當我享受著四季的友愛時，不管什麽都不會讓生命成為我沉重的負擔。
常有人對我說：“我想你住在那裏一定很寂寞，總想著和其他的人接觸一下吧，尤其是在下雨下雪的日子和夜晚。”這個問題誘使我想做這樣一番解釋——我們居住的整個地球，在宇宙中也不過是一個小點罷了。而別的星球，我們用天文儀器還不能測其大小，你想象一下它上麵兩個相隔最遠的居民間的距離又是多遠呢？我怎麽會感到寂寞呢？我們的地球不是在銀河之中嗎？在我看來，你提出的是一個最無關緊要的問題。人和人群要被怎樣的空間分開才會感到寂寞呢？我已經找到了，人腿再努力也隻能讓人們走在一起，卻無法使他們的心彼此靠近。
大部分的時間裏，我都覺得獨處有益於身心。與人交往，哪怕是最好的朋友，不久也會讓人心生厭煩，精疲力竭。我喜歡獨處。我沒有遇見過比孤獨更好的夥伴了。當我們到國外，置身於人群當中時，也許會比一個人待在室內更感到寂寞。一個人正在思想或正在工作時總是孤獨的，隨便他身處何處。不能以一個人離開他的同伴有幾英裏遠來計算他是不是孤獨。在擁擠的劍橋學院裏苦讀的學生，隻會感覺孤獨得像沙漠上的一個伊斯蘭教托缽僧一樣。農夫可以一整天獨自待在田地裏，或者在森林中工作、耕地或者伐木，卻不覺得寂寞，因為他有活兒幹，可是當晚上回到家裏，他卻不能獨自坐在房間裏思考問題，而必須到能“看見人群”的地方消遣一下，按他的理解，這樣做是為了補償他一天的寂寞，因此他覺得很奇怪，為什麽學生們可以一天到晚地待在教室裏而不覺得無聊和“鬱悶”，但是他沒有意識到，學生坐在教室裏學習，就像他在森林中采伐，像農夫在田地裏或是在森林裏勞作一樣，過後學生也會去消遣，也需要進行社交，盡管那種形式可能更簡單一些。
社交往往是很廉價的，我們相聚的時間是如此短暫，以至於來不及讓彼此獲得新的長處。我們在一日三餐的時間裏見麵。大家重新相互品嚐我們這些陳腐乳酪的味道。我們必須一致同意若幹條禮節習俗，這些是我們所謂的禮尚往來，能夠使大家相安無事地相處，避免有失風度的爭吵。我們在郵局碰麵，在各種社交場合碰麵，在每晚的火爐邊碰麵，我們的生活太擁擠，相互幹擾，彼此牽扯到一起，因此我認為，我們之間已經太缺乏相互尊重了。當然，也有重要而熱忱的聚會，次數少一點也就足夠了。想想工廠中的女工們，生活中永遠不會有自己獨立的空間，甚至連做夢都不會是一個人。如果一個人能住上一平方英裏，就像我住的地方一樣，那情況就會好得多。人們交往的價值不在於有肌膚之親，所以我們沒有必要整日地待在一起。
我的房裏有我很多伴兒，特別是早上沒有人來訪的時候。讓我舉例說明吧——也許用這種方式更能清楚地表達我的狀況。我並不比湖中縱聲高叫的潛水鳥更寂寞，也不比瓦爾登湖本身更寂寞。我倒是想獲知有因與這孤獨的湖做伴？在它湛藍的水波上，存在的不是藍色的魔鬼，而是藍色的天使。太陽是孤獨的，除非天上布滿了烏雲，有時候看上去像有兩個太陽，但其中一個是假的。上帝是孤獨的，——但是魔鬼就決不會孤獨，他看到許多同夥，他要拉幫結派。我並不比一朵毛蕊花或牧場上的一朵蒲公英更孤獨，我不比一片豆葉、一枝酢漿草，或一隻馬蠅、一隻大黃蜂更孤獨。還有密爾溪、風信雞、北極星或者南風，四月的暴雨、一月的冰雪消融，或者新屋裏的第一隻蜘蛛——所有這一切的一切，我都不比它們更孤獨、更寂寞！