Thereisnothinghumaninanylivinganimal。Allnature，theuniverseasfaraswesee，isanti—orultra—human，outside，andhasnoconcernwithman。
　　Thesethingsareunnaturaltohim。Bynocourseofreasoning，howevertortuous，cannatureandtheuniversebefittedtothemind。Norcanthemindbefittedtothecosmos。Mymindcannotbetwistedtoit；Iamseparatealtogetherfromthesedesignlessthings。Thesoulcannotbewresteddowntothem。Thelawsofnatureareofnoimportancetoit。Irefusetobeboundbythelawsofthetides，noramIsobound。Thoughbodilyswungroundonthisrotatingglobe，mymindalwaysremainsinthecentre。Notidallaw，norotation，nogravitationcancontrolmythought。
　　Centuriesofthoughthavefailedtoreconcileandfitthemindtotheuniverse，whichisdesignless，andpurposeless，andwithoutidea。Iwillnotendeavourtofitmythoughttoitanylonger；I
　　findandbelievemyselftobedistinct——separate；andIwilllabourinearnesttoobtainthehighestcultureformyself。Asthesenaturalthingshavenoconnectionwithman，itfollowsagainthatthenaturalisthestrangeandmysterious，andthesupernaturalthenatural。
　　Therebeingnothinghumaninnatureortheuniverse，andallthingsbeingultra—humanandwithoutdesign，shape，orpurpose，Iconcludethat，nodeityhasanythingtodowithnature。
　　Thereisnogodinnature，norinanymatteranywhere，eitherintheclodsontheearthorinthecompositionofthestars。
　　ForwhatweunderstandbythedeityisthepurestformofIdea，ofMind，andnomindisexhibitedinthese。Thatwhichcontrolsthemisdistinctaltogetherfromdeity。Itisnotforceinthesenseofelectricity，noradeityasgod，noraspirit，notevenanintelligence，butapowerquitedifferenttoanythingyetimagined。Icease，therefore，tolookfordeityinnatureorthecosmosatlarge，ortotraceanymarksofdivinehandiwork。Isearchfortracesofthisforcewhichisnotgod，andiscertainlynotthehigherthandeityofwhomIhavewritten。Itisaforcewithoutamind。Iwishtoindicatesomethingmoresubtlethanelectricity，butabsolutelydevoidofconsciousness，andwithnomorefeelingthantheforcewhichliftsthetides。
　　Next，inhumanaffairs，intherelationsofmanwithman，intheconductoflife，intheeventsthatoccur，inhumanaffairsgenerallyeverythinghappensbychance。Noprudenceinconduct，nowisdomorforesightcaneffectanything，forthemosttrivialcircumstancewillupsetthedeepestplanofthewisestmind。AsXenophonobservedinoldtimes，wisdomislikecastingdiceanddeterminingyourcoursebythenumberthatappears。Virtue，humanity，thebestandmostbeautifulconductiswhollyinvain。Thehistoryofthousandsofyearsdemonstratesit。InalltheseyearsthereisnomoremovinginstanceonrecordthanthatofDanae，whenshewasdraggedtotheprecipice，twothousandyearsago。SophronwasgovernorofEphesus，andLaodiceplottedtoassassinatehim。Danaediscoveredtheplot，andwarnedSophron，whofled，andsavedhislife。Laodice——themurderessinintent——hadDanaeseizedandcastfromacliff。OnthevergeDanaesaidthatsomepersonsdespisedthedeity，andtheymightnowprovethejusticeoftheircontemptbyherfate。Forhavingsavedthemanwhowastoherasahusband，shewasrewardedinthiswaywithcrueldeathbythedeity，butLaodicewasadvancedtohonour。Thebitternessofthesewordsremainstothishour。
　　Intruththedeity，ifresponsibleforsuchathing，orforsimilarthingswhichoccurnow，shouldbedespised。Onemustalwaysdespisethefatuousbeliefinsuchadeity。Butaseverythinginhumanaffairsobviouslyhappensbychance，itisclearthatnodeityisresponsible。Ifthedeityguideschanceinthatmanner，thenletthedeitybedespised。Apparentlythedeitydoesnotinterfere，andallthingshappenbychance。I
　　cease，therefore，tolookfortracesofthedeityinlife，becausenosuchtracesexist。
　　Iconcludethatthereisanexistence，asomethinghigherthansoul——higher，better，andmoreperfectthandeity。EarnestlyI
　　praytofindthissomethingbetterthanagod。Thereissomethingsuperior，higher，moregood。ForthisIsearch，labour，think，andpray。Ifafteralltherebenothing，andmysoulhastogooutlikeaflame，yeteventhenI
　　havethoughtthiswhileitlives。Withthewholeforceofmyexistence，withthewholeforceofmythought，mind，andsoul，IpraytofindthisHighestSoul，thisgreaterthandeity，thisbetterthangod。Givemetolivethedeepestsoul—lifenowandalwayswiththisSoul。ForwantofwordsIwritesoul，butIthinkthatitissomethingbeyondsoul。
　　CHAPTERV
　　ITisnotpossibletonarratetheseincidentsofthemindinstrictorder。Imustnowreturntoaperiodearlierthananythingalreadynarrated，andpassinreviewotherphasesofmysearchfromthenuptillrecently。SolongsincethatIhaveforgottenthedate，IusedeverymorningtovisitaspotwhereI
　　couldgetaclearviewoftheeast。ImmediatelyonrisingI
　　wentouttosomeelms；thenceIcouldseeacrossthedewyfieldstothedistanthilloverornearwhichthesunrose。Theseelmspartiallyhidme，foratthattimeIhadadisliketobeingseen，feelingthatI
　　shouldbedespisedifIwasnoticed。Thishappenedonceortwice，andIknewIwaswatchedcontemptuously，thoughnoonehadtheleastideaofmyobject。ButIwenteverymorning，andwassatisfiedifIcouldgettwoorthreeminutestothinkunchecked。OftenIsawthesunriseoverthelineofthehills，butifitwassummerthesunhadbeenupalongtime。
　　Ilookedatthehills，atthedewygrass，andthenupthroughtheelmbranchestothesky。Inamomentallthatwasbehindme，thehouse，thepeople，thesounds，seemedtodisappear，andtoleavemealone。InvoluntarilyIdrewalongbreath，thenI
　　breathedslowly。Mythought，orinnerconsciousness，wentupthroughtheilluminedsky，andIwaslostinamomentofexaltation。Thisonlylastedaveryshorttime，perhapsonlypartofasecond，andwhileitlastedtherewasnoformulatedwish。Iwasabsorbed；Idrankthebeautyofthemorning；Iwasexalted。WhenitceasedIdidwishforsomeincreaseorenlargementofmyexistencetocorrespondwiththelargenessoffeelingIhadmomentarilyenjoyed。Sometimesthewindcamethroughthetopsoftheelms，andtheslenderboughsbent，andgazingupthroughthem，andbeyondthefleecyclouds，Ifeltliftedup。Thelightcomingacrossthegrassandleavingitselfonthedew—drops，thesoundofthewind，andthesenseofmountingtotheloftyheaven，filledmewithadeepsigh，awishtodrawsomethingoutofthebeautyofit，somepartofthatwhichcausedmyadmiration，thesubtleinneressence。
　　Sometimesthegreentipsofthehighestboughsseemedgilded，thelightlaidagoldonthegreen。Orthetreesbowedtoastormywindroaringthroughthem，thegrassthrewitselfdown，andintheeastbroadcurtainsofarosytintstretchedalong。Thelightwasturnedtorednessinthevapour，andrainhidthesummitofthehill。Intherushandroarofthestormywindthesameexaltation，thesamedesire，liftedmeforamoment。Iwentthereeverymorning，Icouldnotexactlydefinewhy；itwaslikegoingtoarosebushtotastethescentoftheflowerandfeelthedewfromitspetalsonthelips。
　　ButIdesiredthebeauty——theinnersubtlemeaning——tobeinme，thatI
　　mighthaveit，andwithitanexistenceofahigherkind。
　　LateronIbegantohavedailypilgrimagestothinkthesethings。TherewasafeelingthatImustgosomewhere，andbealone。Itwasanecessitytohaveafewminutesofthisseparatelifeeveryday；mymindrequiredtoliveitsownlifeapartfromotherthings。Agreatoakatashortdistancewasoneresort，andsittingonthegrassattheroots，orleaningagainstthetrunkandlookingoverthequietmeadowstowardsthebrightsouthernsky，Icouldlivemyownlifealittlewhile。BehindthetrunkIwasalone；Ilikedtoleanagainstit；totouchthelichenontheroughbark。Highinthewoodofbranchesthebirdswerenotalarmed；theysang，orcalled，andpassedtoandfrohappily。Thewindmovedtheleaves，andtheyrepliedtoitsoftly；andnowatthisdistanceoftimeIcanseethefragmentsofskyupthroughtheboughs。Beeswerealwayshumminginthegreenfield；ring—doveswentoverswiftly，flyingforthewoods。
　　OfthesunIwasconscious；Icouldnotlookatit，buttheboughsheldbackthebeamssothatIcouldfeelthesun’spresencepleasantly。Theyshadedthesun，yetletmeknowthatitwasthere。Therecametomeadelicate，butatthesametimeadeep，strong，andsensuousenjoymentofthebeautifulgreenearth，thebeautifulskyandsun；Ifeltthem，theygavemeinexpressibledelight，asiftheyembracedandpouredouttheirloveuponme。ItwasIwholovedthem，formyheartwasbroaderthantheearth；itisbroadernowthaneventhen，morethirstyanddesirous。Afterthesensuousenjoymentalwayscamethethought，thedesire：ThatImightbelikethis；
　　thatImighthavetheinnermeaningofthesun，thelight，theearth，thetreesandgrass，translatedintosomegrowthofexcellenceinmyself，bothofbodyandofmind；greaterperfectionofphysique，greaterperfectionofmindandsoul；thatImightbehigherinmyself。TothisoakIcamedailyforalongtime；sometimesonlyforaminute，forjusttoviewthespotwasenough。Inthebittercoldofspring，whenthenorthwindblackenedeverything，Iusedtocomenowandthenatnighttolookfromunderthebarebranchesatthesplendourofthesouthernsky。Thestarsburnedwithbrilliance，broadOrionandflashingSirius——therearemoreorbrighterconstellationsvisiblethenthanalltheyear：andtheclearnessoftheairandtheblacknessofthesky——black，notclouded——letthemgleamintheirfulness。Theyliftedme——theygavemefreshvigourofsoul。Notallthatthestarscouldhavegiven，hadtheybeendestinies，couldhavesatiatedme。
　　This，allthis，andmore，Iwantedinmyself。
　　Therewasaplaceamileorsoalongtheroadwherethehillscouldbeseenmuchbetter；Iwenttherefrequentlytothinkthesamethought。Anotherspotwasbyanelm，averyshortwalk，whereopeningsinthetrees，andtheslopeoftheground，broughtthehillswellintoview。Thistoo，wasafavouritethinking—place。Anotherwasawood，halfanhour’swalkdistant，throughpartofwhicharudetrackwent，sothatitwasnotaltogetherinclosed。Theash—saplings，andthetrees，thefirs，thehazelbushes——tobeamongtheseenabledmetobemyself。Fromthebudsofspringtotheberriesofautumn，I
　　alwayslikedtobethere。Sometimesinspringtherewasasheenofblue—bellscoveringacres；thedovescooed；theblackbirdswhistledsweetly；
　　therewasatasteofgreenthingsintheair。Butitwasthetallfirsthatpleasedmemost；theglanceroseuptheflame—shapedfir—tree，taperingtoitsgreentip，andabovewastheazuresky。ByaidofthetreeIfelttheskymore。ByaidofeverythingbeautifulIfeltmyself，andinthatintensesenseofconsciousnessprayedforgreaterperfectionofsoulandbody。
　　Afterwards，Iwalkedalmostdailymorethantwomilesalongtheroadtoaspotwherethehillsbegan，wherefromthefirstrisetheroadcouldbeseenwindingsouthwardsoverthehills，openanduninclosed。Ipausedaminuteortwobyaclumpoffirs，inwhosebranchesthewindalwayssighed——thereisalwaysamovementoftheaironahill。Southwwardstheskywasilluminedbythesun，southwardsthecloudsmovedacrosstheopeningorpassintheamphitheatre，andsouthwards，thoughfardistant，wasthesea。ThereIcouldthinkamoment。Thesepilgrimagesgavemeafewsacredminutesdaily；themomentseemedholywhenthethoughtordesirecameinitsfullforce。
　　Atimecamewhen，havingtoliveinatown，thesepilgrimageshadtobesuspended。ThewearisomeworkonwhichIwasengagedwouldnotpermitofthem。ButIusedtolooknowandthen，fromawindow，intheeveningatabirch—treeatsomedistance；itsgracefulboughsdroopedacrosstheglowofthesunset。Thethoughtwasnotsuspended；itlivedinmealways。AbitterertimestillcamewhenitwasnecessarytobeseparatedfromthoseIloved。ThereislittleindeedinthemoreimmediatesuburbsofLondontogratifythesenseofthebeautiful。YettherewasacedarbywhichIusedtowalkupanddown，andthinkthesamethoughtsasunderthegreatoakinthesolitudeofthesunlitmeadows。
　　Inthecourseofslowtimehappiercircumstancesbroughtustogetheragain，and，thoughnearLondon，ataspotwheretherewaseasyaccesstomeadowsandwoods。Hillsthatpurifythosewhowalkonthemtherewerenot。StillIthoughtmyoldthoughts。
　　IwasmuchinLondon，and，engagementscompleted，Iwanderedaboutinthesamewayasinthewoodsofformerdays。FromthestonebridgesIlookeddownontheriver；thegrittydust，thestrawsthatlieonthebridges，flewupandwhirledroundwitheverygustfromtheflowingtide；grittydustthatsettlesinthenostrilsandonthelips，theveryresiduumofallthatisrepulsiveinthegreatestcityoftheworld。Thenoiseofthetrafficandtheconstantpressurefromthecrowdspassing，theirincessantanddisjointedtalk，couldnotdistractme。OnemomentatleastIhad，amomentwhenIthoughtofthepushofthegreatseaforcingthewatertoflowunderthefeetofthesecrowds，thedistantseastrongandsplendid；whenIsawthesunlightgleamonthetidalwavelets；whenIfeltthewind，andwasconsciousoftheearth，thesea，thesun，theair，theimmenseforcesworkingon，whilethecityhummedbytheriver。Naturewasdeepenedbythecrowdsandfoot—wornstones。Ifthetidehadebbed，andthemastsofthevesselsweretiltedasthehullsrestedontheshelvingmud，stilleventheblackenedmuddidnotpreventmeseeingthewateraswaterflowingtothesea。Theseahaddrawndown，andthewaveletswashingthestrandhereastheyhastenedwererunningthefastertoit。EastwardsfromLondonBridgetheriverracedtotheocean。
　　ThebrightmorningsunofsummerheatedtheeasternparapetofLondonBridge；Istayedintherecesstoacknowledgeit。Thesmoothwaterwasabroadsheenoflight，thebuilt—upriverflowedcalmandsilentbyathousanddoors，ripplingonlywherethestreamchafedagainstachain。Redpennantsdrooped，gildedvanesgleamedonpolishedmasts，black—pitchedhullsglistenedlikeablackrook’sfeathersinsunlight；theclearaircutouttheforwardanglesofthewarehouses，theshadowedwharveswerequietinshadowsthatcarriedlight；fardowntheshipsthatwerehaulingoutmovedinrepose，andwiththestreamfloatedawayintothesummermist。Therewasafaintbluecolourintheairhoveringbetweenthebuilt—upbanks，againstthelitwalls，inthehollowsofthehouses。Theswallowswheeledandclimbed，twitteredandglideddownwards。Burningon，thegreatsunstoodinthesky，heatingtheparapet，glowingsteadfastlyuponmeaswhenIrestedinthenarrowvalleygroovedoutinprehistorictimes。Burningonsteadfast，andeverpresentasmythought。
　　Lightingthebroadriver，thebroadwalls；lightingtheleastspeckofdust；
　　lightingthegreatheaven；gleamingonmyfinger—nail。Thefixedpointofday——thesun。Iwasintenselyconsciousofit；Ifeltit；Ifeltthepresenceoftheimmensepowersoftheuniverse；Ifeltoutintothedepthsoftheether。Sointenselyconsciousofthesun，thesky，thelimitlessspace，Ifelttoointhemidstofeternitythen，inthemidstofthesupernatural，amongtheimmortal，andthegreatnessofthematerialrealisedthespirit。BytheseI
　　sawmysoul；bytheseIknewthesupernaturaltobemoreintenselyrealthanthesun。Itouchedthesupernatural，theimmortal，therethatmoment。
　　When，wearyofwalkingonthepavements，IwenttorestintheNationalGallery，Isatandrestedbeforeoneorotherofthehumanpictures。Iamnotapicturelover：theyareflatsurfaces，butthosethatIcallhumanareneverthelessbeautiful。ThekneeinDaphnisandChloeandthebreastarelikelivingthings；theydrawthehearttowardsthem，theheartmustlovethem。Ilivedinlooking；withoutbeautythereisnolifeforme，thedivinebeautyoffleshislifeitselftome。
　　TheshoulderintheSurprise，theroundedriseofthebust，theexquisitetintsoftheripeskin，momentarilygratifiedthesea—
　　thirstinme。ForIthirstwithallthethirstofthesaltsea，andthesun—heatedsandsdryforthetide，withalltheseaI
　　thirstforbeauty。AndIknowfullwellthatonelifetime，howeverlong，cannotfillmyheart。Mythroatandtongueandwholebodyhaveoftenbeenparchedandfeverishdrywiththismeasurelessthirst，andagainmoisttothefingers’endslikeasappybough。Itburnsinmeasthesunburnsinthesky。
　　TheglowingfaceofCythereainTitian’sVenusandAdonis，theheatedcheek，thelipsthatkisseacheyethatgazesonthem，thedesiringglance，thegoldenhair——sunbeamsmouldedintofeatures——thisfaceansweredme。Juno’swidebackandmesialgroove，isanythingsolovelyastheback？Cytherealspoisedhipsunveiledforjudgment；thesecalledupthesamethirstI
　　feltonthegreenswardinthesun，onthewildbeachlisteningtothequietsobasthesummerwavedrankattheland。Iwillsearchtheworldthroughforbeauty。IcamehereandsattorestbeforetheseinthedayswhenIcouldnotaffordtobuysomuchasaglassofale，wearyandfaintfromwalkingonstonepavements。Icamelateron，inbettertimes，oftenstraightfromlabourswhichthoughnecessarywilleverbedistasteful，alwaystorestmyheartwithloveliness。Igostill；thedivinebeautyoffleshislifeitselftome。Itwas，andis，oneofmyLondonpilgrimages。
　　AnotherwastotheGreeksculpturegalleriesintheBritishMuseum。Thestatuesarenot，itissaid，thebest；brokentoo，andmutilated，andseeninadull，commonplacelight。Buttheywereshape——divineshapeofmanandwoman；theformoflimbandtorso，ofbustandneck，gavemeasighingsenseofrest。Theseweretheywhowouldhavestayedwithmeundertheshadowoftheoakswhiletheblackbirdsflutedandthesouthairswungthecowslips。Theywouldhavewalkedwithmeamongthereddenedgoldofthewheat。Theywouldhaverestedwithmeonthehill—topsandinthenarrowvalleygroovedofancienttimes。Theywouldhavelistenedwithmetothesobofthesummerseadrinkingtheland。Thesehadthirstedofsun，andearth，andsea，andsky。Theirshapespokethisthirstanddesirelikemine——ifIhadlivedwiththemfromGreecetillnowIshouldnothavehadenoughofthem。Tracingtheformoflimbandtorsowiththeeyegavemeasenseofrest。
　　SometimesIcameinfromthecrowdedstreetsandceaselesshum；
　　oneglanceattheseshapesandIbecamemyself。SometimesIcamefromtheReading—room，whereunderthedomeIoftenlookedupfromthedeskandrealisedthecrushinghopelessnessofbooks，useless，notequaltoonebubblebornealongontherunningbrookIhadwalkedby，givingnothoughtlikethespringwhenIliftedthewaterinmyhandandsawthelightgleamonit。Torsoandlimb，bustandneckinstantlyreturnedmetomyself；IfeltasIdidlyingontheturflisteningtothewindamongthegrass；itwouldhaveseemednaturaltohavefoundbutterfliesflutteringamonghestatues。
　　Thesamedeepdesirewaswithme。Ishallalwaysgotospeaktothem；theyareaplaceofpilgrimage；whereverthereisabeautifulstatuethereisaplaceofpilgrimage。
　　Ialwayssteppedaside，too，tolookawhileattheheadofJuliusCaesar。Thedomesoftheswellingtemplesofhisbroadheadarefullofmind，evidenttotheeyeasaglobeisfullofsubstancetothesenseoffeelinginthehandsthatholdit。
　　Thethinworncheekisentirelyhuman；endlessdifficultiessurmountedbyendlesslabouraremarkedinit，asthesandblast，bydintofparticlesceaselesslydriven，carvesthehardestmaterial。Ifcircumstancesfavouredhimhemadethosecircumstanceshisownbymarvellouslabour，soasjustlytoreceivethecreditofchance。Thereforethethincheekisentirelyhuman——thesumofhumanlifemadevisibleinoneface——labour，andendurance，andmind，andallinvain。A
　　shadow——ofdeepsadnesshasgatheredonitintheyearsthathavepassed，becauseendurancewaswithoutavail。Itissaddertolookatthanthegrass—growntumulusIusedtositby，becauseitisapersonality，andalsoonaccountoftheextremefollyofourhumanraceeverdestroyingourgreatest。
　　Farbetterhadtheyendeavoured，howeverhopelessly，tokeephimlivingtillthisday。Didbuttheracethishourpossessone—
　　hundredthpartofhisbreadthofview，howhappyforthem!Ofwhomelsecanitbesaidthathehadnoenemiestoforgivebecauseherecognisednoenemy？Nineteenhundredyearsagoheputinactualpractice，withmorearbitrarypowerthananydespot，thoseveryprinciplesofhumanitywhicharenowputforwardasthehighestculture。Buthemadethemtobeactualthingsunderhissway。
　　Theonemanfilledwithmind；theonemanwithoutavarice，anger，pettiness，littleness；theonemangenerousandtrulygreatofallhistory。Itisenoughtomakeonedespairtothinkofthemerebrutesbuttingtodeaththegreat—mindedCaesar。Hecomesnearesttotheidealofadesign—powerarrangingtheaffairsoftheworldforgoodinpracticalthings。Beforehisface——thedivinebrowofmindabove，thehumansuffering—drawncheekbeneath——myownthoughtbecamesetandstrengthened。ThatIcouldbutlookatthingsinth...剩余内容请长按扫描二维码或下载丁香书院APP继续免费看：

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