拉尔夫ˇ沃尔多ˇ埃默森
(RALPH WALDO EMERSON)

自 助
Self-Reliance

愚蠢地坚持随衆随俗乃是心胸狭小的幽灵的表ˇ。

随着学园运动的发展ˇ埃默森成了一位受人欢迎的演说家。学园运动始于十九世纪二十年代ˇ是有组织的成人教育的一种早期形式。它将各种涉及社会问题和学术问题的演说、辩论和讨论带入美国东北和中西部各州的社区。该运动以亚里士多德给学生讲学的雅典学校命名ˇ爲诸如埃默森、亨利ˇ戴维ˇ梭罗、苏珊ˇ比ˇ安东尼、弗雷德里克ˇ道格拉斯和纳撒尼尔ˇ霍桑等演说家提供了一个讲坛和收入来源。

埃默森的自然主义哲学吸引了广泛的注意和广大的听衆。他呼吁以内心自我、以直觉、以大自然作爲生活和ˇ实的指南ˇˇ那些秉承传统、权威和教条的人提出了挑战。对于个人主义者和不墨守陈规的人ˇ对于厌恶古训寻求内心真实的人来说ˇ埃默森的言辞具有深遂的吸引力。美国每一代年轻人都重新发掘埃默森的思ˇ。这篇杂文是埃默森的最佳代表作ˇ具有警句式的文字和热情洋溢的个人主义。该文最初发表在1841年埃默森的第一部散文集中。

前些日子我读了一位著名画家的诗作。这是些独特而且不落俗套的作品。在这种诗句中ˇ不论其主题是什麽ˇ心灵总能听到某种告诫。诗句中所注入的感情比它们所包含的思ˇ内容更可贵。ˇ信你自己的思ˇˇˇ信凡是对你心灵来说是真实的ˇ对所有其它人也是真实的ˇˇ这就是天才。披露蜇伏在你内心的信念ˇ它便具有普遍的意义ˇ因爲最内在的终将成爲最外在的ˇˇ我们最初的ˇ法终将在上帝最后审判日的喇叭声中得到ˇ应。尽管心灵的声音对每一个人来说都是熟悉的ˇ但是我们认爲ˇ摩西、柏拉图和弥尔顿最了不起的功绩是他们蔑视书本和传统ˇ他们论及的不是人们ˇ到的ˇ而是他们自己的思ˇ。人应当学会的是捕捉、观察发自内心的闪光ˇ而不是诗人和伟人们的圣光。但是ˇ人们却不加思索地抛弃自己的思ˇˇ就因爲那是自己的思ˇ。在每一部天才的作品中ˇ我们都可以找到我们自己抛弃了的那些思ˇˇ它们带着某种陌生的尊严回到我们这儿来。伟大的艺术作品给我们最深刻的教诲就是ˇ要以最平和而又最执着的态度遵从内心自然而然産生的念头ˇ即使与其ˇ应的看法正甚ˇ尘上。否则ˇ明天某个人便将俨然以一位权威的口吻高谈那些同我们曾经ˇ到、感受到的一模一样的ˇ法ˇ而我们却只好惭愧地从他人手中接受我们自己的ˇ法。

每个人在受教育过程中ˇ总有一天会认识到ˇ妒忌是无知ˇ模仿是自杀。不论好歹ˇ每个人都必须接受属于他的那一份ˇ广阔的世界里虽然充满了珍馐美味ˇ但是只有从给予他去耕耘的那一片土地里ˇ通过辛勤劳动收获的谷物才富有营养。富于他体内的力量ˇ实质上是新生的力量。只有他自己才知道他能干什麽ˇ而且他也只有在尝试之后才能知ˇ。一张面孔、一个人物、一桩事情在他心中留下了印ˇˇ而其它的则不然。这并不是无缘无故的。这记忆中的塑ˇ并非全无先验的和谐。眼睛被置于某束光ˇ将射到的地方ˇ这样它才可能感知到那束光ˇ。大胆让他直扦自己的全部信念吧。我们对自己总是遮遮掩掩ˇ对我们每个人所代表的神圣意念感到羞愧。我们完全可以视这意念爲与我们ˇ称、而又有益的意念ˇ所以ˇ应当忠实地宣扬它。不过ˇ上帝是不会ˇ懦夫揭示他的杰作的ˇ只有神圣的人ˇ才能展示神圣的事物。当一个人将身心倾注到工作中ˇ并且竭尽了全力的时候ˇ他就得到了解脱和欢乐。否则ˇ他将爲自己的言行忐忑不安ˇ得到的是没有解脱的解脱。在其问ˇ他爲自己的天赋所抛弃ˇ没有灵感与他爲友ˇ没有发明ˇ也没有希望。

ˇ信你自己吧ˇ每颗心都随着那弦跳动ˇ接受上苍爲你找到的位置ˇˇ同代人组成的社会和世网。伟大的人物总是ˇ孩子似地将自己托付给时代的精神ˇ披露他们所感知到的上帝正在他们内心引起骚动ˇ正假他们之手在运作ˇ并驾驭着他们整个身心。我们是人ˇ必须在我们最高尚的心灵中接受同样先验的命运。我们不能畏缩在墙 角里ˇ不能ˇ懦夫一样在革命关头逃脱ˇ我们必须是赎罪者和捐助者ˇ是虔诚的有志者ˇ是全能上帝所造之物ˇ让我们ˇ着混沌乱世ˇˇ着黑暗冲锋吧…

这些话语当我们独处时可以听到ˇ可是当我们迈进这世界时ˇ话音就减弱了、听不到了。社会到处都是防患各社会成员成熟起来的阴谋。社会是一个股份公司。在这公司里ˇ成员们爲了让各个股东更好地保住自己的那份面包ˇ同意放弃吃面包者的自由和文化。它最需要的美德是随衆随俗ˇ它厌恶的是自力更生ˇ它钟爱的不是ˇ实和创造者ˇ而是名份和习俗。

任何名副其实的真正的人ˇ都必须是不落俗套的人。任何采集圣地棕搁叶的人ˇ都不应当拘泥于名义上的善ˇ而应当发掘善之本身。除了我们心灵的真诚之外ˇ其它的一切归根结蒂都不是神圣的。解脱自己ˇ皈依自我ˇ也就必然得到世人的认可。记得ˇ当我还很小的时候ˇ有位颇受人尊重的师长。他习惯不厌其烦地ˇ我灌输宗教的古老教条。有一回ˇ我禁不住回了他一句。听到我说ˇ如果我完全靠内心的指点来生活ˇ那麽我拿那些神圣的传统干嘛呢ˇ我的这位朋友提出说ˇ“可是ˇ内心的冲动可能是低下的ˇ而不是高尚的。”我回答说ˇ“在我看来ˇ却不是如此。不过ˇ倘若我是魔鬼的孩子ˇ那麽我就要照魔鬼的指点来生活。”除了天性的法则之外ˇ在我看来ˇ没有任何法则是神圣的。好与坏ˇ只不过是个名声而已ˇ不费吹灰之力ˇ便可以将它从这人身上移到那人身上。唯一正确的ˇ是顺从自身结构的事物ˇ唯一错误的ˇ是逆自身结构的事物。一个人面对反对意见ˇ其举措应当ˇ除了他自己之外ˇ其它的一切都是有名无实的过眼烟云。使我惭愧的是ˇ我们如此易于成爲招牌、名份的俘虏ˇ成爲庞大的社团和毫无生气的习俗的俘虏。任何一个正派、谈吐优雅之士都比一位无懈可击的人更能影ˇ我、左右我。我应当正直坦诚、生气勃勃ˇ以各种方式直抒未加粉饰的真理……

我必须做的是一切与我有关的事ˇ而不是别人ˇ要我做的事。这条法则ˇ在ˇ实生活和精神生活中都是同样艰巨困难的ˇ它是伟大与低贱的整个区别。它将变得更加艰巨ˇ如果你总是碰到一些自以爲比你自己更懂得什麽是你的责任的人。按照世人的观念在这世界上生活是件容易的事ˇ按照你自己的观念ˇ离群索居也不难ˇ但若置身在世人之间ˇ却能尽善尽美地怕然保持着个人独立性ˇ却只有伟人才能办得到。

抵制在你看来已是毫无生气的习俗ˇ是因爲这些习俗耗尽你的精力。它ˇ耗你的时光ˇ隐ˇ你的性格。如果你上毫无生气的教堂ˇ爲毫无生气的圣经会捐款ˇ投大党的票拥护或反对政府ˇ摆餐桌同粗俗的管家没什麽两样ˇˇ那麽在所有这些屏障下ˇ我就很难准确看出你究竟是什麽样的人。当然ˇ这样做也将从你生活本身中耗去ˇ应的精力。然而ˇ如果你所做的是你所要做的事ˇ那麽我就能看出你到底是什麽样的人。做你自己的事ˇ你也就从中增强了自身。一个人必须要ˇ到ˇ随衆随俗无异于蒙住你的眼睛。假如我知道你属于哪个教派ˇ我就能预见到你会使用的论据。我曾经听一位传教士宣称ˇ他的讲稿和主题都取材自他的教会的某一规定。难道我不是早就知道他根本不可能即兴说一句话吗?……算了ˇ大部分人都用这样或那样的手帕蒙住自己的眼睛ˇ使自己依附于某个社团观点。保持这种一致性ˇ迫使他们不仅仅在一些细节上弄虚作假ˇ说一些假话ˇ而是在所有的细节上都弄虚作假。他们所有的真理都不太真。他们的二并不是真正的二ˇ他们的四也不是真正的四ˇ他们说的每一个字都使我们失望ˇ而我们又不知道该从哪儿下手去纠正它。同时ˇ自然却 利落地在我们身上套上我们所效忠的政党的囚犯号衣。我们都板着同样的面孔ˇ摆着同样的架式ˇ逐渐习得最有绅士风度而又愚蠢得ˇ驴一样的表达方式。尤其值得一提的是一种丢人的、并且也在历史上留下了自己印记的经历。我指的是“傻乎乎的恭维”ˇˇ我们浑身不自在地同一些人ˇ处时ˇ脸上便堆起这种假笑ˇ我们就毫无兴趣的话题搭腔时ˇ脸上便堆起这种微笑。其面部肌肉不是自然地运作ˇ而是爲一种低下的、处心积虑的抽搐所牵引ˇ肌肉在面庞外围绷得紧紧的ˇ给人一种最不愉快的感觉ˇ一种受责备和警告的感觉。这种感觉ˇ任何勇敢的年轻人都绝不会愿意体验第二次。

世人用不快来鞭挞不落俗套的人……对于一位坚强的探谙世事的人来说ˇ容忍有教养的绅士们的愤怒不是件难事。他们的愤怒是正派得体ˇ谨慎稳重的。因爲他们本身就非常容易招来责难ˇ所以他们胆小怕事。但是ˇ若引起他们那女性特有的愤怒ˇ其愤慨便有所升级ˇ倘若无知和贫穷的人们被唆使ˇ倘若处于社会底层的非理性的野蛮力量被怂勇狂吼发难ˇ那就需要养成宽宏大量和宗教的习惯ˇˇ神一样把它当作无关紧要的琐事。

另一个使我们不敢自信的恐惧是我们ˇ要随衆随俗。这是我们对自己过去的所作所爲的敬畏之情ˇ因爲在别人眼里能够藉以评判我们行爲轨迹的依据ˇ除了我们的所作所爲之外别无他物ˇ而我们又不愿意使他们失望。

但是ˇ你爲什麽要往回看呢?爲什麽你老要抱着回忆的僵尸ˇ唯恐说出与你曾经在这个或那个公开场合说的话有点儿矛盾的话来呢?倘若你说了些自ˇ矛盾的话ˇ那又怎麽样呢?

愚蠢地坚持随衆随俗是心胸狭小的幽灵的表ˇˇ是低级的政客ˇ哲学家和神学家们崇拜的物件。伟大的人物根本就不会随衆随俗。他也许倒更关心自己落在墙上的影子。嘿ˇ把好你的那张嘴ˇ用包装ˇ把双唇缝起来ˇ否则ˇ你若要做一个真正的人的话ˇ今天你ˇ说什麽就说什麽ˇˇ放连珠炮一样ˇ明天你ˇ说什麽ˇ照样斩钉截铁地说什麽ˇ哪怕跟你今天说的一切都是ˇ互予盾的。哈哈ˇ老妇人ˇ你就嚷嚷去吧ˇ你肯定会被人误解的ˇ误解ˇ恰恰是个傻瓜的字眼。被人误解就那麽不好吗?毕达哥拉斯被人误解ˇ苏格拉底、耶ˇ、路德、哥白尼、伽利略和牛顿ˇ每一位纯粹而又聪明、曾经生活过的人都曾被人误解过。要做个伟人ˇ就一定会被人误解……

I read the other day some verses written by an eminent painter which were original and not conventional. Always the soul hears an admonition in such lines, let the subject be what it may. The sentiment they instil is of more value than any thought they may contain. To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men,--that is genius. Speak your latent conviction, and it shall be universal sense; for always the inmost becomes the outmost--and our first thought is rendered back to us by the trumpets of the Last Judgment. Familiar as the voice of the mind is to each, the highest merit we ascribe to Moses, Plato and Milton is that they set at naught books and traditions, and spoke not what men, but what they thought, A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts; they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us than this. They teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on the other side. Else to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another.

    There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is  ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better for worse as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried. Not for nothing one face, one character, one fact, makes much impression on him, and another none. It is not without preestablished harmony, this sculpture in the memory. The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might testily of that particular ray. Bravely let him speak the utmost syllable of his confession. We but half express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. It may be safely trusted as proportionate and of good issues, so it be faithfully imparted, but God will not have his work made manifest by cowards. It needs a divine man to exhibit anything divine. A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him; no muse befriends; no invention, no hope.

    Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connexion of events. Great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the Eternal was stirring at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny; and not pinched in a corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but redeemers and benefactors, pious aspirants to be noble clay under the Almighty effort let us advance on Chaos and the Dark…

    These are the voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world. Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members. Society is a joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better securing of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture of the eater. The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is its aversion. It loves not realities and creators, but names and customs.

    Whoso would be a man, must be a nonconformist. He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of our own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have the suffrage of the world. I remember an answer which when quite young I was prompted to make to a valued adviser who was wont to importune me with the dear old doctrines of the church. On my saying, What have I to do with the sacredness of traditions, if I live wholly from within? My friend suggested,--"But these impulses may be from below, not from above." I replied. "They do not seem to me to be such; but if I am the devil's child, I will live then from the devil." No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature. Good and bad are but names very readily transferable to that or this; the only right is that is after my constitution; the only wrong what is against it. A man is to carry himself in the presence of all opposition as if every thing were titular and ephemeral but he. I am ashamed to think how easily we capitulate to badges and names, to large societies and dead institutions. Every decent and well-spoken individual affects and sways me more than is right. I ought to go upright and vital, and speak the rude truth in all ways. . . .

   What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. It is the harder because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.

    The objection to conforming to usages that have become dead to you is that it scatters your force. It loses your time and blurs the impression of your character. If you maintain a dead church, contribute to a dead Bible Society, vote with a great party either for the Government or against it, spread your table like base housekeepers,--under all these screens I have difficulty to detect the precise man you are. And of course so much force is withdrawn from your proper life. But do your thing, and I shall know you. Do your work, and you shall reinforce yourself. A man must consider what a blind man's-buff is this game of conformity. If I know your sect I anticipate your argument. I hear a preacher announce for his text and topic the expediency of one of the institutions of his church. Do I not know beforehand that not possibly can he say a new and spontaneous word?

 . . . Well, most men have bound their eyes with one or another handkerchief, and attached themselves to some one of these communities of opinion. This conformity makes them not false in a few particulars, authors of a few lies, but false in all particulars. Their every truth is not quite true. Their two is not the real two, their four not the real four: so that every word they say chagrins us and we know not where to begin to set them right. Meantime nature is not slow to equip us in the prison-uniform of the party to which we adhere. We come to wear one cut of face and figure, and acquire by degrees the gentlest asinine expression. There is a mortifying experience in particular, which does not fail to wreak itself also in the general history; I mean "the foolish face of praise," the forced smile which we put on in company where we do not feel at ease, in answer to conversation which does not interest us. The muscles, not spontaneously moved but moved by a low usurping wilfulness, grow tight about the outline of the face, and make the most disagreeable sensation; a sensation of rebuke and warning which no brave young man will suffer twice.

    For nonconformity the world whips you with its displeasure. . . . It is easy enough for a firm man who knows the world to brook the rage of the cultivated classes. Their rage is decorous and prudent, for they are timid, as being very vulnerable themselves. But when to their feminine rage the indignation of the people is added, when the ignorant and the poor are aroused, when the unintelligent brute force that lies at the bottom of society is made to growl and mow, it needs the habit of magnanimity and religion to treat it godlike as a trifle of no concernment.

    The other terror that scares us from self-trust is our consistency; a reverence for our past act or word because the eyes of others have no other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to disappoint them.

    But why should you keep your head over your shoulder? Why drag about this monstrous corpse of your memory, lest you contradict somewhat you have stated in this or that public place? Suppose you should contradict yourself; what then? . . .

    A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Out upon your guarded lips! Sew them up with packthread, do. Else if you would be a man speak what you think to-day in words as hard as cannon balls, and to-morrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict everything you said to-day. Ah, then, exclaim the aged ladies, you shall be sure to be misunderstood! Misunderstood! It is a right fool's word. Is it so bad then to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. . . .