第 18 节
作者:热带雨淋      更新:2021-02-20 05:18      字数:9322
  rest contented with any circle of ideas; but always be certain that a wider
  one is still possible。 For my
  thought is like a hyperbola that continually widens ascending。
  For grief there is no known consolation。 It is useless to fill our hearts
  with bubbles。 A loved one gone is gone; and as to the futureeven if there
  is a futureit is unknown。 To assure ourselves otherwise is to soothe the
  mind with illusions; the bitterness of it is inconsolable。 The sentiments of
  trust chipped out on tombstones are touching instances of the innate
  goodness of the human heart; which naturally longs for good; and sighs
  itself to sleep in the hope that; if parted; the parting is for the benefit
  of those that are gone。 But these inscriptions are also awful instances of
  the deep intellectual darkness which presses still on the minds of men。 The
  least thought erases them。 There is no consolation。 There is no relief。
  There is no hope certain; the whole system is a mere illusion。 I; who hope
  so much; and am so rapt up in the soul; know full well that there is no
  certainty。
  The tomb cries aloud to usits dead silence presses on the drum
  of the ear like thunder; saying; Look at this; and erase your
  illusions; now know the extreme value of human life; reflect on
  this and strew human life with flowers; save every hour for the
  sunshine; let your labour be so ordered that in future times the loved ones
  may dwell longer with those who love them; open your
  minds; exalt your souls; widen the sympathies of your hearts;
  face the things that are now as you will face the reality of death; make joy
  real now to those you love; and help forward the joy of those yet to be
  born。 Let these facts force the mind and the soul to the increase of
  thought; and the consequent remission of misery; so that those whose time it
  is to die may have enjoyed all that is possible in life。 Lift up your mind
  and see now in this bitterness of parting; in this absence of certainty; the
  fact that there is no directing intelligence; remember that this death is
  not of old age; which no one living in the world has ever seen; remember
  that old age is possible; and perhaps even more than old age; and beyond
  these earthly things…what?   None know。 But let us; turning away from the
  illusion of a directing intelligence; look earnestly for something better
  than a god; seek for something higher than
  prayer; and lift our souls to be with the more than immortal
  now。
  A river runs itself clear during the night; and in sleep
  thought becomes pellucid。 All the hurrying to and fro; the
  unrest and stress; the agitation and confusion subside。 Like a
  sweet pure spring; thought pours forth to meet the light; and
  is illumined to its depths。 The dawn at my window ever causes
  a desire for larger thought; the recognition of the light at
  the moment of waking kindles afresh the wish for a broad day of
  the mind。 There is a certainty that there are yet ideas further; and
  greaterthat there is still a limitless beyond。 I know at that moment that
  there is no limit to the things that may be yet in material and tangible
  shape besides the immaterial perceptions of the soul。 The dim white light of
  the dawn speaks it。 This prophet which has come with its wonders to the
  bedside of every human being for so many thousands of years faces me once
  again with the upheld finger of light。 Where is the limit to that physical
  sign?
  》From space to the sky; from the sky to the hills; and the sea;
  to every blade of grass; to every leaf; to the smallest insect;
  to the million waves of ocean。 Yet this earth itself appears
  but a mote in that sunbeam by which we are conscious of one
  narrow streak in the abyss。 A beam crosses my silent chamber
  from the window; and atoms are visible in it; a beam slants
  between the fir…trees; and particles rise and fall within; and cross it
  while the air each side seems void。 Through the heavens a beam slants; and
  we are aware of the star…stratum in which our earth moves。 But what may be
  without that stratum? Certainly it is not a void。 This light tells us much;
  but I think in the course of time yet more delicate and subtle mediums than
  light may be found; and through these we shall see into the shadows of the
  sky。 When will it be possible to be certain that the capacity of a single
  atom has been exhausted? At any moment some fortunate incident may reveal a
  fresh power。 One by one the powers of light have been unfolded。
  After thousands of years the telescope opened the stars; the
  prism analysed the substance of the sun; the microscope showed
  the minute structure of the rocks and the tissues of living
  bodies。 The winged men on the Assyrian bas…reliefs; the gods of
  the Nile; the chariot…borne immortals of Olympus; not the
  greatest of imagined beings ever possessed in fancied attributes
  one…tenth the power of light。 As the swallows twitter; the dim
  white finger appears at my window full of wonders; such as all
  the wise men in twelve thousand precedent years never even hoped
  to conceive。 But this is not alllight is not all; light conceals more than
  it reveals; light is the darkest shadow of the sky; besides light there are
  many other mediums yet to be explored。 For thousands of years the sunbeams
  poured on the earth; full as now of messages; and light is not a hidden
  thing to be searched out with difficulty。 Full in the faces of men the rays
  came with their intelligence from the sun when the papyri were painted
  beside the ancient Nile; but they were not understood。
  This hour; rays or undulations of more subtle mediums are
  doubtless pouring on us over the wide earth; unrecognised; and
  full of messages and intelligence from the unseen。 Of these we
  are this day as ignorant as those who painted the papyri were of
  light。 There is an infinity of knowledge yet to be known; and
  beyond that an infinity of thought。 No mental instrument even has yet been
  invented by which researches can be carried direct to the object。 Whatever
  has been found has been discovered by fortunate accident; in looking for one
  thing another has been chanced on。 A reasoning process has yet to be
  invented by which to go straight to the desired end。 For now the slightest
  particle is enough to throw the search aside; and the most minute
  circumstance sufficient to conceal obvious and brilliantly shining truths。
  One summer evening sitting by my window I watched for the first star to
  appear; knowing the position of the brightest in the southern sky。 The dusk
  came on; grew deeper; but the star did not shine。  By…and…by; other stars
  less bright appeared; so that it could not be the sunset which obscured the
  expected one。  Finally; I considered that I must have mistaken its position;
  when suddenly a puff of air blew through the branch of a pear…tree which
  overhung the window; a leaf moved; and there was the star behind the leaf。
  At present the endeavour to make discoveries is like gazing at
  the sky up through the boughs of an oak。 Here a beautiful star
  shines clearly; here a constellation is hidden by a branch; a
  universe by a leaf。 Some mental instrument or organon is
  required to enable us to distinguish between the leaf which may
  be removed and a real void; when to cease to look in one direction; and to
  work in another。 Many men of broad brow and great intellect lived in the
  days of ancient Greece; but for lack of the accident of a lens; and of
  knowing the way to use a prism; they could but conjecture imperfectly。 I am
  in exactly the position they were when I look beyond light。 Outside my
  present knowledge I am exactly in their condition。 I feel that there are
  infinities to be known; but they are hidden by
  a leaf。 If any one says to himself that the telescope; and the microscope;
  the prism; and other discoveries have made all plain; then he is in the
  attitude of those ancient priests who worshipped the scarabaeus or beetle。
  So; too; it is with thought; outside our present circle of ideas I believe
  there is an infinity of idea。  All this that has been effected with light
  has been done by bits of glassmere bits of shaped glass; quickly broken;
  and made of flint; so that by the rude flint our subtlest ideas are gained。
  Could we employ the ocean as a lens; and force truth from the sky; even then
  I think there would be much more beyond。
  Natural things are known to us only under two conditionsmatter
  and force; or matter and motion。 A third; a fourth; a fifthno
  one can say how many conditionsmay exist in the ultra…stellar
  space; and such other conditions may equally exist about us now
  unsuspected。 Something which is neither matter nor force is difficult to
  conceive; yet; I think; it is certain that there are other conditions。 When
  the mind succeeds in entering on a wider series; or circle of ideas; other
  conditions would appear
  natural enough。 In this effort upwards I claim the assistance
  of the soulthe mind of the mind。 The eye sees; the mind
  deliberates on what it sees; the soul understands the operation
  of the mind。 Before a bridge is built; or a structure erected;
  or an interoceanic canal made; there must be a plan; and before
  a plan the thought in the mind。 So that it is correct to say
  the mind bores tunnels through the mount