What then is the work of life？ What the business of great men， that pass the stage of the world in seeming triumph as these men we call heroes have done？ Is it to grow great in the mouth of fame and take up so many pages in history？ Alas！ That is no more than making a tale for the reading of posterity till it turns into fable and romance. Is it to furnish subjects to the poets， and live in their immortal rhymes as they call them？ That is， in short， no more than to be hereafter turned into ballad and song and be sung by old women to quiet children， or at the corner of the street to gather crowds in aid of the pickpocket and the poor. Or is their business rather to add virtue and piety to their glory， which alone will pass them into eternity and make them truly immortal？ What is glory without virtue？ A great man without religion is no more than a great beast without a soul. What is honour without merit？ And what can be called true merit but that which makes a person be a good man as well as a great man？

一個完全相反的地方

A Thoroughly Negative Place

阿爾伯特·卡繆 / Albert Camus

讓我們承認那個小鎮的丑陋吧。它的氣氛做作、平靜，而且，你需要花時間去發現，它為何與世界其他地方的許多商業中心有所不同。你如何能想象這樣的一種景致，例如，一個沒有鴿子，沒有任何樹木或花園的小鎮，在這里，聽不見鳥兒振翅或樹葉的沙沙聲——簡而言之，這是一個完全相反的地方。在這里季節只能依靠天空來辨別。春天的來臨也只能通過空氣的感覺，或是由小販從郊區帶來的一籃籃花兒來感知，春天在市場被叫賣著。在夏天里，房子被太陽烘得干透，灰色的塵埃布滿了墻壁，你別無選擇，只有躲在à上的百葉窗后，在室內逃避那些炙熱的日子。秋天則泥沙泛濫。只有冬季帶來真正愉悅的氣候。

也許，了解一個城鎮最簡單的方法，是了解它的市民如何工作，如何戀愛和如何死亡。在我們的小鎮上（不知是否受了天氣的影響？）這三件事在同樣灼熱難耐卻已司空見慣的空氣中，以極為相同的方式完成。實際上，每個人都覺得無聊，便投入到各自愛好的培養中。我們的市民都努力工作，但唯一的目標是發財。他們最主要的興趣是商業，而生活之首要目的，就如他們自己所說的，是“做生意”。自然，他們也免不了一些像海浴、看電影等簡單的娛樂。但是，他們非常明智地把這些消遣留到周六下午與周日，而其他時間卻盡可能地用來賺錢。黃昏，他們離開辦公室后，會在固定的時間里聚集在咖啡館，在相同的林蔭大道上散步，或是在陽臺上透透氣。年輕人的熱情強烈但為時不長，年長者的不良嗜好很少超出沉溺于保齡球、宴會和社交的范圍，或者是沉湎于那種打出一張牌，就能賺大筆錢的俱樂部。

The town itself， let us admit， is ugly. It has a smug， placid air and you need time to discover what it is that makes it different from so many business centers in other parts of the world. How to conjure up a picture， for instance， of a town without pigeons， without any trees or gardens， where you never hear the beat of wings or the rustle of leaves—a thoroughly negative place， in short？ The seasons are discriminated only in the sky. All that tells you of spring’s coming is the feel of the air， or the baskets of flowers brought in from the suburbs by peddlers； it’s a spring cried in the market-places. During the summer the sun bakes the houses bone-dry， sprinkles our walls with grayish dust， and you have no option but to survive those days of fire indoors， behind closed shutters. In autumn， on the other hand， we have deluges of mud. Only winter brings really pleasant weather.

Perhaps the easiest way of making a town’s acquaintance is to ascertain how the people in it work， how they love， and how they die. In our little town (is this， one wonders， an effect of the climate？) all three are done on much the same lines， with the same feverish yet casual air. The truth is that everyone is bored， and devotes himself to cultivating habits. Our citizens work hard， but solely with the object of getting rich. Their chief interest is in commerce， and their chief aim in life is， as they call it， “doing business.” Naturally they don’t eschew such simpler pleasures as sea-bathing， going to the pictures. But， very sensibly， they reserve these pastimes for Saturday afternoons and Sundays and employ the rest of the week in making money， as much as possible. In the evening， on leaving the office， they forgather， at an hour that never varies， in the cafe’ s， stroll the same boulevard， or take the air on their balconies. The passions of the young are violent and short-lived； the vices of older men seldom range beyond an addiction to bowling， to banquets and socials， or clubs where large sums change hands on the fall of a card.

風　車

The Windmill

愛德華·凡爾拉萊·盧卡斯 / Edward Verrall Lucas

不久前，一個偶然的機會曾使我成為一座風車房的住客。但并不是真的住進去，而且說來遺憾，也不是進去磨點兒什么東西，只是興致來時進去轉了轉，從它最上端的窗戶遙望港口的船只，或俯視周圍的羊群和原野。這座風車又大又白——而且白得很厲害，每當雷雨云繞到它的背后時，整個風車就像一件擦亮的鋁器一樣。

從風車的其他幾個窗口往外看，你還可以看到另外的四個風車，這些風車和它一樣，也都閑置著。其中一個已經破損得非常厲害，還有一個也只剩下了兩塊翼板。但就在下一道山岡，遠得望不見的東北方向，有一個風車在那里歡快地轉動著。另外，由此再折向西北四五英里的地方，也有一個風車還在運轉。所以，這個地方的情形還不至于像全國其他地方那么糟糕，任由陣陣好風從身邊白白吹過……

一想起因蒸汽機以及工程師的聰明才智帶給英國的種種損失，人們總會把風車的衰落列為其中的第一項。也許如果只從景物的美觀別致來說，英國所遭遇的最大不幸是鍍鋅鐵屋頂的發明。不過，畢竟紅色屋頂的美好不只是安詳富麗與舒適，轉動著的風車不僅看起來美麗，而且非常浪漫：一個受制于自然的魔力但情愿為人類服務的溫馴家伙，一個飛舞旋轉的怪物，往往也是一個讓人懼怕的東西。如果誰在風力正強的時候靠近一個風車轟鳴的翼板，心里都會驟然緊張起來——那感覺就像人們在暴風雨中望見水浪沖擊堤岸的情景一樣。此時待在風車房里面的話，就能對聲音的來歷有些體會，因為這里就是聲音的洞穴。當然，有些孔洞中發出的轟鳴聲震耳欲聾，具有很大的威力，但風車的聲音大體來說是比較自然的，它們是木頭與西南風搏斗時產生的，它充盈于人耳，而不會震耳欲聾。而且，這種效果并沒有因為沒有風或者磨坊主人及其用人的淡漠而有所減弱，這些人即使是在震耳欲聾的喧鬧下，也總是一副文靜樣子，如同教堂管事人一般有條不紊地辦事。

當然，我進入的磨坊并沒有如此喧鬧，我只是偶爾聽到那些閑置的翼板上的橫木作幾下擺動罷了，一切都是如此寂靜。更使人惆悵的是，一切又仿佛已完全就緒，就等著當天開工了。這個風車以前——大約幾十年前——也曾是生氣勃勃的，但是從那以后，它就永歸沉寂，毫無生氣，就像一條溪流在夜里突然遭遇封凍，或者像丁尼生《睡美人》詩中的宮殿那樣寂寞。這風車并未損壞——它只是失去了魂魄。風車上幾個蘋果木的榫子已從輪機上脫落下來，地板上的木條也有幾根爛掉了，但也僅是如此而已。只要一周的時間，就足以把這一切都修好。但永遠沒有這種可能了。因此，以前曾經使千千萬萬個英國風車一起歡舞的陣陣好風，而今只能在英吉利海峽上面徒勞地吹過。

Chance recently made me for a while the tenant of a windmill. Not to live in， and unhappily not to grind corn in， but to visit as the mood arose， and see the ships in the harbour from the topmost window， and look down on the sheep and the green world all around. For this mill stands high and white—so white， indeed， that when there is a thunder-cloud behind it， it seems a thing of polished aluminium.

From its windows you can see four other mills， all like itself， idle， and one merely a ruin and one with only two sweeps left. But just over the next range of hills， out of sight， to the northeast， is a windmill that still merrily goes， and about five miles away to the northwest is another also active； so that things are not quite so bad hereabouts as in many parts of the country， where the good breezes blow altogether in vain...