Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed and in such desperate enterprises？  If a man does not keep pace with his companions， perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.  Let him step to the music which he hears， however measured or far away. It is not important that he should mature as soon as an apple tree or an oak.  Shall he turn his spring into summer？  If the condition of things which we were made for is not yet， what were any reality which we can substitute？  We will not be shipwrecked on a vain reality.  Shall we with pains erect a heaven of blue glass over ourselves， though when it is done we shall be sure to gaze still at the true ethereal heaven far above， as if the former were not？

　　There was an artist in the city of Kouroo who was disposed to strive after perfection.  One day it came into his mind to make a staff.  Having considered that in an imperfect work time is an ingredient， but into a perfect work time does not enter， he said to himself， It shall be perfect in all respects， though I should do nothing else in my life.  He proceeded instantly to the forest for wood， being resolved that it should not be made of unsuitable material； and as he searched for and rejected stick after stick， his friends gradually deserted him， for they grew old in their works and died， but he grew not older by a moment.  His singleness of purpose and resolution， and his elevated piety， endowed him， without his knowledge， with perennial youth.  As he made no compromise with Time， Time kept out of his way， and only sighed at a distance because he could not overcome him.  Before he had found a stock in all respects suitable the city of Kouroo was a hoary ruin， and he sat on one of its mounds to peel the stick.  Before he had given it the proper shape the dynasty of the Candahars was at an end， and with the point of the stick he wrote the name of the last of that race in the sand， and then resumed his work.  By the time he had smoothed and polished the staff Kalpa was no longer the pole-star；and ere he had put on the ferule and the head adorned with precious stones， Brahma had awoke and slumbered many times.  But why do I stay to mention these things？  When the finishing stroke was put to his work， it suddenly expanded before the eyes of the astonished artist into the fairest of all the creations of Brahma.  He had made a new system in making a staff， a world with full and fair proportions； in which， though the old cities and dynasties had passed away， fairer and more glorious ones had taken their places. And now he saw by the heap of shavings still fresh at his feet，that， for him and his work， the former lapse of time had been an illusion， and that no more time had elapsed than is required for a single scintillation from the brain of Brahma to fall on and inflame the tinder of a mortal brain.  The material was pure， and his art was pure； how could the result be other than wonderful？

　　No face which we can give to a matter will stead us so well at last as the truth.  This alone wears well.  For the most part， we are not where we are， but in a false position.  Through an infinity of our natures， we suppose a case， and put ourselves into it， and hence are in two cases at the same time， and it is doubly difficult to get out.  In sane moments we regard only the facts， the case that is.  Say what you have to say， not what you ought.  Any truth is better than make-believe.  Tom Hyde， the tinker， standing on the gallows， was asked if he had anything to say.  "Tell the tailors，" said he， "to remember to make a knot in their thread before they take the first stitch."  His companion's prayer is forgotten.

　　However mean your life is， meet it and live it； do not shun it and call it hard names.  It is not so bad as you are.  It looks poorest when you are richest.  The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise.  Love your life， poor as it is.  You may perhaps have some pleasant， thrilling， glorious hours， even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man's abode； the snow melts before its door as early in the spring.  I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there， and have as cheering thoughts， as in a palace. The town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any.  Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving.  Most think that they are above being supported by the town； but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means， which should be more disreputable. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb， like sage.  Do not trouble yourself much to get new things， whether clothes or friends.  Turn the old； return to them.  Things do not change； we change.  Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.  God will see that you do not want society.  If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my days， like a spider， the world would be just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me.  The philosopher said： "From an army of three divisions one can take away its general， and put it in disorder； from the man the most abject and vulgar one cannot take away his thought."  Do not seek so anxiously to be developed， to subject yourself to many influences to be played on； it is all dissipation.  Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. The shadows of poverty and meanness gather around us， "and lo！

　　creation widens to our view."  We are often reminded that if there were bestowed on us the wealth of Croesus， our aims must still be the same， and our means essentially the same.  Moreover， if you are restricted in your range by poverty， if you cannot buy books and newspapers， for instance， you are but confined to the most significant and vital experiences； you are compelled to deal with the material which yields the most sugar and the most starch.  It is life near the bone where it is sweetest.  You are defended from being a trifler.  No man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity on a higher.  Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only.  Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul.

　　為什么我們時常降低我們的智力到了愚笨的程度，而又去贊美它為常識？最平常的常識是睡著的人的意識，在他們打鼾中表達出來的。有時我們把難得聰明的人和愚笨的人歸為一類，因為我們只能欣賞他們的三分之一的聰明。有人偶然起了一次早，就對黎明的紅霞挑剔開了。我還聽說過，“他們認為卡比爾的詩有四種不同的意義；幻覺、精神、智性和吠陀經典的通俗教義。”可是我們這里要是有人給一個作品做了一種以上的解釋，大家就要紛紛責難了。英國努力防治土豆腐爛，難道就不努力醫治腦子腐爛？而后者實在是更普遍更危險的呢。

　　我并不是說，我已經變得更深奧了，可是，從我這些印張上找出來的致命缺點如果不比從這瓦爾登湖的冰上找出來更多的話，我就感覺到很驕做了。你看南方的冰商反對它的藍色，仿佛那是泥漿，其實這是它純潔的證明，他們反而看中了劍橋之水，那是白色的，但有一股草腥氣。人們所愛好的純潔是包裹著大地的霧，而不是上面那藍色的太空。

　　有人嘀咕著，說我們美國人及一般近代人，和古人比較起來，甚至和伊麗莎白時代的人比較起來，都不過是智力上的矮子罷了。這話什么意思？一只活著的狗總比一頭死去的獅子好。難道一個人屬于矮子一類便該上吊？為什么他不能做矮子中最長的一人。

　　人人該管他自己的事情，努力于他的職責。

　　為什么我們這樣急于要成功，而從事這樣荒唐的事業？如果一個人跟不上他的伴侶們，那也許是因為他聽的是另一種鼓聲。讓他踏著他聽到的音樂節拍而走路，不管那拍子如何，或者在多遠的地方。他應否像一株蘋果樹或橡樹那樣快地成熟，并不是重要的，他該不該把他的春天變作夏天？如果我們所要求的情況還不夠條件，我們能用來代替的任何現實又算得了什么呢？我們不要在一個空虛的現實上撞破了船。我們是否要費力去在頭頂上面建立一個藍色玻璃的天空呢，雖然完成后我們還要凝望那遙遠得多的真實的天空，把前者視作并未建立過的一樣？

　　在柯洛城中，有一個藝術家，他追求完美。有一天他想做一根手杖。他想，一有時間的因素就不能成為完美的藝術作品，凡是完美作品，其中時間是不存在的，因此他自言自語，哪怕我一生中不再做任何其他的事情，也要把它做得十全十美。他立刻到森林中去找木料，他已決定不用那不合式的材料，就在他尋找著，一根又一根地選不中意而拋掉的這個期間，他的朋友們逐漸地離開了他，因為他們工作到老了之后都死掉了，可是他一點也沒老。他一心一意，堅定而又高度虔誠，這一切使他在不知不覺中得到了永久的青春。因為他并不跟時間妥協，時間就站在一旁嘆氣，拿他沒辦法。他還沒有找到一個完全適用的材料，柯洛城已是古湮的廢墟，后來他就坐在廢墟上，剝一根樹枝的皮。

　　他還沒有給它造出一個形狀來，坎達哈朝代已經結束了。他用了手杖的尖頭，在沙土上寫下那個民族的最后一人的名字來，然后他又繼續工作。當他磨光了手杖，卡爾伯已經不是北極星了；他還沒有裝上金箍和飾有寶石的杖頭，梵天都已經睡醒過好幾次。為什么我要提起這些話呢？最后完成的時候，它突然輝耀無比，成了梵天所創造的世界中間最美麗的一件作品，他在創造手杖之中創造了一個新制度，一個美妙而比例適度的新世界；其間古代古城雖都逝去了，新的更光榮的時代和城市卻已代之而興起。而現在他看到刨花還依然新鮮地堆在他的腳下，對于他和他的工作，所謂時間的流逝只是過眼幻影，時間一點也沒逝去，就像梵天腦中閃過的思想立刻就點燃了幾人腦中的火絨一樣。材料純粹，他的藝術純粹；結果怎能不神奇？

　　我們能給予物質的外貌，最后沒有一個能像真理這樣于我們有利。只有真理，永不破蔽。大體說來，我們并不存在于這個地方，而是在一個虛設的位置上。只因我們天性脆弱，我們假定了一類情況，并把自己放了進去，這就同時有了兩種情況，我們要從中脫身就加倍地困難了。清醒的時候，我們只注意事實，注意實際的情況。你要說你要說的話，別說你該說的話呵。任何真理都比虛偽好。補鍋匠湯姆。海德站在斷頭臺上，問他有什么話要說。“告訴裁縫們，”他說，“在縫第一針之前，不要忘記了在他們的線尾打一個結。”他的伴侶的祈禱被忘記了。

　　不論你的生命如何卑賤，你要面對它，生活它；不要躲避它，更別用惡言咒罵它。

　　它不像你那樣壞。你最富的時候，倒是最窮。愛找缺點的人就是到天堂里也找得到缺點。

　　盡管貧困，你要愛你的生活。甚至在一個濟貧院里，你也還有愉快，高興，光榮的時辰。

　　夕陽反射在濟貧院的窗上，像射在富戶人家窗上一樣光亮，在那門前，積雪同在早春溶化。我只看到，一個安心的人，在那里也像在皇官中一樣，生活得心滿意足而富有愉快的思想。城鎮中的窮人，我看，倒往往是過著最獨立不羈的生活。也許因為他們很偉大，所以受之無愧。大多數人以為他們是超然的，不靠城鎮來支援他們；可是事實上他們是往往用了不正當的手段來對付生活，他們毫不是超脫的，毋寧是不體面的。視貧窮如園中之花草而像圣人一樣地耕植它吧！不要找新花樣，無論是新朋友或新衣服，來麻煩你自己。找舊的；回到那里去。萬物不變；是我們在變。你的衣服可以賣掉，但要保留你的思想。上帝將保證你不需要社會。如果我得整天躲在閣樓的一角，像一只蜘蛛一樣，只要我還能思想，世界對于我還是一樣地大。哲學家說，“三軍可奪帥也，匹夫不可奪志也。”不要焦慮求發展，不要屈服于玩弄你的影響；這些全是浪費。卑賤像黑暗，閃耀著極美的光。貧窮與卑賤的陰影圍住了我們，“可是瞧啊！我們的眼界擴大了。”我們常常被提醒，即使賜給我們克洛索斯的巨富，我們的目的一定還是如此，我們的方法將依然故我。況且，你如果受盡了貧窮的限制，例如連書報都買不起了，那時你也不過是被限制于最有意義、最為重要的經驗之內了：你不能不跟那些可以產生最多的糖和最多淀粉的物質打交道。最接近骨頭地方的生命最甜蜜。你不會去做無聊的事了。在上的人寬宏大度，不會使那在下的人有任何損失。多余的財富只能夠買多余的東西，人的靈魂必需的東西，是不需要花錢買的。

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