lavengro-第53部分

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govern　all　things：　　Yet　how　can　this　be？　alas！



Then　there　was　myself；　for　what　was　I　born？　　Are　not　all　things　

born　to　be　forgotten？　　That's　incomprehensible：　　yet　is　it　not　so？　　

Those　butterflies　fall　and　are　forgotten。　　In　what　is　man　better　

than　a　butterfly？　　All　then　is　born　to　be　forgotten。　　Ah！　that　was　

a　pang　indeed；　'tis　at　such　a　moment　that　a　man　wishes　to　die。　　The　

wise　king　of　Jerusalem；　who　sat　in　his　shady　arbours　beside　his　

sunny　fish…pools；　saying　so　many　fine　things；　wished　to　die；　when　

he　saw　that　not　only　all　was　vanity；　but　that　he　himself　was　

vanity。　　Will　a　time　come　when　all　will　be　forgotten　that　now　is　

beneath　the　sun？　　If　so；　of　what　profit　is　life？



In　truth　it　was　a　sore　vexation　of　spirit　to　me　when　I　saw；　as　the　

wise　man　saw　of　old；　that　whatever　I　could　hope　to　perform　must　

necessarily　be　of　very　temporary　duration；　and　if　so；　why　do　it？　　I　

said　to　myself；　whatever　name　I　can　acquire；　will　it　endure　for　

eternity？　scarcely　so。　　A　thousand　years？　　Let　me　see！　what　have　I　

done　already？　　I　have　learnt　Welsh；　and　have　translated　the　songs　

of　Ab　Gwilym；　some　ten　thousand　lines；　into　English　rhyme；　I　have　

also　learnt　Danish；　and　have　rendered　the　old　book　of　ballads　cast　

by　the　tempest　upon　the　beach　into　corresponding　English　metre。　　

Good！　have　I　done　enough　already　to　secure　myself　a　reputation　of　a　

thousand　years？　　No；　no！　certainly　not；　I　have　not　the　slightest　

ground　for　hoping　that　my　translations　from　the　Welsh　and　Danish　

will　be　read　at　the　end　of　a　thousand　years。　　Well；　but　I　am　only　

eighteen；　and　I　have　not　stated　all　that　I　have　done；　I　have　learnt　

many　other　tongues；　and　have　acquired　some　knowledge　even　of　Hebrew　

and　Arabic。　　Should　I　go　on　in　this　way　till　I　am　forty；　I　must　

then　be　very　learned；　and　perhaps；　among　other　things；　may　have　

translated　the　Talmud；　and　some　of　the　great　works　of　the　Arabians。　　

Pooh！　all　this　is　mere　learning　and　translation；　and　such　will　

never　secure　immortality。　　Translation　is　at　best　an　echo；　and　it　

must　be　a　wonderful　echo　to　be　heard　after　the　lapse　of　a　thousand　

years。　　No！　all　I　have　already　done；　and　all　I　may　yet　do　in　the　

same　way；　I　may　reckon　as　nothing　…　mere　pastime；　something　else　

must　be　done。　　I　must　either　write　some　grand　original　work；　or　

conquer　an　empire；　the　one　just　as　easy　as　the　other。　　But　am　I　

competent　to　do　either？　　Yes；　I　think　I　am；　under　favourable　

circumstances。　　Yes；　I　think　I　may　promise　myself　a　reputation　of　a　

thousand　years；　if　I　do　but　give　myself　the　necessary　trouble。　　

Well！　but　what's　a　thousand　years　after　all；　or　twice　a　thousand　

years？　　Woe　is　me！　　I　may　just　as　well　sit　still。



'Would　I　had　never　been　born！'　I　said　to　myself；　and　a　thought　

would　occasionally　intrude：　　But　was　I　ever　born？　　Is　not　all　that　

I　see　a　lie　…　a　deceitful　phantom？　　Is　there　a　world；　and　earth；　

and　sky？　　Berkeley's　doctrine　…　Spinoza's　doctrine！　　Dear　reader；　I　

had　at　that　time　never　read　either　Berkeley　or　Spinoza。　　I　have　

still　never　read　them；　who　are　they；　men　of　yesterday？　　'All　is　a　

lie　…　all　a　deceitful　phantom；'　are　old　cries；　they　come　naturally　

from　the　mouths　of　those　who；　casting　aside　that　choicest　shield　

against　madness；　simplicity；　would　fain　be　wise　as　God；　and　can　

only　know　that　they　are　naked。　　This　doubting　in　the　'universal　

all'　is　almost　coeval　with　the　human　race：　　wisdom；　so　called；　was　

early　sought　after。　　All　is　a　lie　…　a　deceitful　phantom　…　was　said　

when　the　world　was　yet　young；　its　surface；　save　a　scanty　portion；　

yet　untrodden　by　human　foot；　and　when　the　great　tortoise　yet　

crawled　about。　　All　is　a　lie；　was　the　doctrine　of　Buddh；　and　Buddh　

lived　thirty　centuries　before　the　wise　king　of　Jerusalem；　who　sat　

in　his　arbours；　beside　his　sunny　fish…pools；　saying　many　fine　

things；　and；　amongst　others；　'There　is　nothing　new　under　the　sun！'





One　day；　whilst　I　bent　my　way　to　the　heath　of　which　I　have　spoken　

on　a　former　occasion；　at　the　foot　of　the　hills　which　formed　it　I　

came　to　a　place　where　a　wagon　was　standing；　but　without　horses；　the　

shafts　resting　on　the　ground；　there　was　a　crowd　about　it；　which　

extended　half…way　up　the　side　of　the　neighbouring　hill。　　The　wagon　

was　occupied　by　some　half　a　dozen　men；　some　sitting；　others　

standing　…　they　were　dressed　in　sober…coloured　habiliments　of　black　

or　brown；　cut　in　a　plain　and　rather　uncouth　fashion；　and　partially　

white　with　dust；　their　hair　was　short；　and　seemed　to　have　been　

smoothed　down　by　the　application　of　the　hand；　all　were　bareheaded　…　

sitting　or　standing；　all　were　bareheaded。　　One　of　them；　a　tall　man；　

was　speaking　as　I　arrived；　ere；　however；　I　could　distinguish　what　

he　was　saying；　he　left　off；　and　then　there　was　a　cry　for　a　hymn　'to　

the　glory　of　God'　…　that　was　the　word。　　It　was　a　strange…sounding　

hymn；　as　well　it　might　be；　for　everybody　joined　in　it：　　there　were　

voices　of　all　kinds；　of　men；　of　women；　and　of　children　…　of　those　

who　could　sing　and　of　those　who　could　not　…　a　thousand　voices　all　

joined；　and　all　joined　heartily；　no　voice　of　all　the　multitude　was　

silent　save　mine。　　The　crowd　consisted　entirely　of　the　lower　

classes；　labourers　and　mechanics；　and　their　wives　and　children　…　

dusty　people；　unwashed　people；　people　of　no　account　whatever；　and　

yet　they　did　not　look　a　mob。　　And　when　that　hymn　was　over　…　and　

here　let　me　observe　that；　strange　as　it　sounded；　I　have　recalled　

that　hymn　to　mind；　and　it　has　seemed　to　tingle　in　my　ears　on　

occasions　when　all　that　pomp　and　art　could　do　to　enhance　religious　

solemnity　was　being　done　…　in　the　Sistine　Chapel；　what　time　the　

papal　band　was　in　full　play；　and　the　choicest　choristers　of　Italy　

poured　forth　their　mellowest　tones　in　presence　of　Batuschca　and　his　

cardinals　…　on　the　ice　of　the　Neva；　what　time　the　long　train　of　

stately　priests；　with　their　noble　beards　and　their　flowing　robes　of　

crimson　and　gold；　with　their　ebony　and　ivory　staves；　stalked　along；　

chanting　their　Sclavonian　litanies　in　advance　of　the　mighty　Emperor　

of　the　North　and　his　Priberjensky　guard　of　giants；　towards　the　

orifice　through　which　the　river；　running　below　in　its　swiftness；　is　

to　receive　the　baptismal　lymph：　　…　when　the　hymn　was　over；　another　

man　in　the　wagon　proceeded　to　address　the　people；　he　was　a　much　

younger　man　than　the　last　speaker；　somewhat　square　built　and　about　

the　middle　height；　his　face　was　rather　broad；　but　expressive　of　

much　intelligence；　and　with　a　peculiar　calm　and　serious　look；　the　

accent　in　which　he　spoke　indicated　that　he　was　not　of　these　parts；　

but　from　some　distant　district。　　The　subject　of　his　address　was　

faith；　and　how　it　could　remove　mountains。　　It　was　a　plain　address；　

without　any　attempt　at　ornament；　and　delivered　in　a　tone　which　was　

neither　loud　nor　vehement。　　The　speaker　was　evidently　not　a　

practised　one　…　once　or　twice　he　hesitated　as　if　for　words　to　

express　his　meaning；　but　still　he　held　on；　talking　of　faith；　and　

h