瓦尔登湖:Conclusion3
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.
为什么我们时常降低我们的智力到了愚笨的程度，而又去赞美它为常识？最平常的常识是睡着的人的意识，在他们打鼾中表达出来的。有时我们把难得聪明的人和愚笨的人归为一类，因为我们只能欣赏他们的三分之一的聪明。有人偶然起了一次早，就对黎明的红霞挑剔开了。我还听说过，“他们认为卡比尔的诗有四种不同的意义；幻觉、精神、智性和吠陀经典的通俗教义。”可是我们这里要是有人给一个作品做了一种以上的解释，大家就要纷纷责难了。英国努力防治土豆腐烂，难道就不努力医治脑子腐烂？而后者实在是更普遍更危险的呢。
我并不是说，我已经变得更深奥了，可是，从我这些印张上找出来的致命缺点如果不比从这瓦尔登湖的冰上找出来更多的话，我就感觉到很骄做了。你看南方的冰商反对它的蓝色，仿佛那是泥浆，其实这是它纯洁的证明，他们反而看中了剑桥之水，那是白色的，但有一股草腥气。人们所爱好的纯洁是包裹着大地的雾，而不是上面那蓝色的太空。
有人嘀咕着，说我们美国人及一般近代人，和古人比较起来，甚至和伊丽莎白时代的人比较起来，都不过是智力上的矮子罢了。这话什么意思？一只活着的狗总比一头死去的狮子好。难道一个人属于矮子一类便该上吊？为什么他不能做矮子中最长的一人。
人人该管他自己的事情，努力于他的职责。
为什么我们这样急于要成功，而从事这样荒唐的事业？如果一个人跟不上他的伴侣们，那也许是因为他听的是另一种鼓声。让他踏着他听到的音乐节拍而走路，不管那拍子如何，或者在多远的地方。他应否像一株苹果树或橡树那样快地成熟，并不是重要的，他该不该把他的春天变作夏天？如果我们所要求的情况还不够条件，我们能用来代替的任何现实又算得了什么呢？我们不要在一个空虚的现实上撞破了船。我们是否要费力去在头顶上面建立一个蓝色玻璃的天空呢，虽然完成后我们还要凝望那遥远得多的真实的天空，把前者视作并未建立过的一样？
在柯洛城中，有一个艺术家，他追求完美。有一天他想做一根手杖。他想，一有时间的因素就不能成为完美的艺术作品，凡是完美作品，其中时间是不存在的，因此他自言自语，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，他已决定不用那不合式的材料，就在他寻找着，一根又一根地选不中意而抛掉的这个期间，他的朋友们逐渐地离开了他，因为他们工作到老了之后都死掉了，可是他一点也没老。他一心一意，坚定而又高度虔诚，这一切使他在不知不觉中得到了永久的青春。因为他并不跟时间妥协，时间就站在一旁叹气，拿他没办法。他还没有找到一个完全适用的材料，柯洛城已是古湮的废墟，后来他就坐在废墟上，剥一根树枝的皮。
他还没有给它造出一个形状来，坎达哈朝代已经结束了。他用了手杖的尖头，在沙土上写下那个民族的最后一人的名字来，然后他又继续工作。当他磨光了手杖，卡尔伯已经不是北极星了；他还没有装上金箍和饰有宝石的杖头，梵天都已经睡醒过好几次。为什么我要提起这些话呢？最后完成的时候，它突然辉耀无比，成了梵天所创造的世界中间最美丽的一件作品，他在创造手杖之中创造了一个新制度，一个美妙而比例适度的新世界；其间古代古城虽都逝去了，新的更光荣的时代和城市却已代之而兴起。而现在他看到刨花还依然新鲜地堆在他的脚下，对于他和他的工作，所谓时间的流逝只是过眼幻影，时间一点也没逝去，就像梵天脑中闪过的思想立刻就点燃了几人脑中的火绒一样。材料纯粹，他的艺术纯粹；结果怎能不神奇？
我们能给予物质的外貌，最后没有一个能像真理这样于我们有利。只有真理，永不破蔽。大体说来，我们并不存在于这个地方，而是在一个虚设的位置上。只因我们天性脆弱，我们假定了一类情况，并把自己放了进去，这就同时有了两种情况，我们要从中脱身就加倍地困难了。清醒的时候，我们只注意事实，注意实际的情况。你要说你要说的话，别说你该说的话呵。任何真理都比虚伪好。补锅匠汤姆。海德站在断头台上，问他有什么话要说。“告诉裁缝们，”他说，“在缝第一针之前，不要忘记了在他们的线尾打一个结。”他的伴侣的祈祷被忘记了。
不论你的生命如何卑贱，你要面对它，生活它；不要躲避它，更别用恶言咒骂它。
它不像你那样坏。你最富的时候，倒是最穷。爱找缺点的人就是到天堂里也找得到缺点。
尽管贫困，你要爱你的生活。甚至在一个济贫院里，你也还有愉快，高兴，光荣的时辰。
夕阳反射在济贫院的窗上，像射在富户人家窗上一样光亮，在那门前，积雪同在早春溶化。我只看到，一个安心的人，在那里也像在皇官中一样，生活得心满意足而富有愉快的思想。城镇中的穷人，我看，倒往往是过着最独立不羁的生活。也许因为他们很伟大，所以受之无愧。大多数人以为他们是超然的，不靠城镇来支援他们；可是事实上他们是往往用了不正当的手段来对付生活，他们毫不是超脱的，毋宁是不体面的。视贫穷如园中之花草而像圣人一样地耕植它吧！不要找新花样，无论是新朋友或新衣服，来麻烦你自己。找旧的；回到那里去。万物不变；是我们在变。你的衣服可以卖掉，但要保留你的思想。上帝将保证你不需要社会。如果我得整天躲在阁楼的一角，像一只蜘蛛一样，只要我还能思想，世界对于我还是一样地大。哲学家说，“三军可夺帅也，匹夫不可夺志也。”不要焦虑求发展，不要屈服于玩弄你的影响；这些全是浪费。卑贱像黑暗，闪耀着极美的光。贫穷与卑贱的阴影围住了我们，“可是瞧啊！我们的眼界扩大了。”我们常常被提醒，即使赐给我们克洛索斯的巨富，我们的目的一定还是如此，我们的方法将依然故我。况且，你如果受尽了贫穷的限制，例如连书报都买不起了，那时你也不过是被限制于最有意义、最为重要的经验之内了：你不能不跟那些可以产生最多的糖和最多淀粉的物质打交道。最接近骨头地方的生命最甜蜜。你不会去做无聊的事了。在上的人宽宏大度，不会使那在下的人有任何损失。多余的财富只能够买多余的东西，人的灵魂必需的东西，是不需要花钱买的。
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