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“做生意的人，”他告诉我，“生活的很大一部分是跟顾客打交道。那地方太繁华了。很多人光顾是因为方便。他们拿着长钱夹，付钱也很爽快，但钱并不是全部。”
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店家十四岁的儿子，也是继承生意的人，又给我举了个例子。“从长远来说，这个地方对我们家更好。”他说道，“在大马路的店里，我们在柜台上放了榆叶梅，给高雅人士欣赏，但是有人竟然让二月的冷风吹到花上来了。”
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七
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有一回我迷了路，不得不向巡捕问路。于是我把车停到路边等待，巡捕还在忙着打理手头的事务。他身上穿的制服效仿的是三藩市的警察服制，这个镇子的镇长是在美国受的教育，所以让他的共和国警察都穿上这种制服。岗哨建在现代的水泥路上，边上种上了夹竹桃，此时他正用茶壶给花朵浇水。
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打理完毕，他给我指了路。在示意我可以继续上路之前，他跟我说：“一年里面每一天中国都有鲜花的庇佑。”然后问道，“在外国也是如此吗？”
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（郑文博 译）
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西南联大英文课（英汉双语版） [:1705033808]
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10 A WORD TO YOUTH
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By Andre Maurois
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A WORD TO YOUTH, by Andre Maurois, in The Atlantic Monthly magazine, Vol. CLII, No. 4, pp. 397, 398, October, 1933.
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Andre Maurois （1885-1967）, French author, whose fame rests on Ariel , a life of Shelley, the English poet.
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A questionnaire is, generally speaking either a nuisance or a bore. But once in a while one comes along that inspires thinking. At such times the interrogated blesses his examiner. This is what I felt one morning recently when I was asked to answer the following:
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1. What is the most valuable lesson life has taught you?
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2. To a young person in whom you were interested, what advice would you give which would help him to keep his balance in the most difficult experiences of his life?
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There we have two beautiful problems. Let us give them a little thought.
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I
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Adolescence is the most difficult period of life, because then every defeat seems final. Let the youth live but a little longer and he will learn life’s first, most valuable lesson—that nothing is final.
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“Things adjust themselves, more or less badly,” Disraeli used to say dolefully. Not a very consoling thought, put that way. For it is quite as true that things turn out well. More often still, many actions have no results—they come to naught. A few weeks slip into a few months; and of a situation that seemed at the time to have no possible solution nothing remains but a faint memory, a confused picture, a regret.
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The man or woman who has lived through the experience of an unendurable present transformed into a blurred past has more power to face affliction. “A wretched power,” the romantic youth will say, “a power made up of indifference and skepticism. Rather than that, gave me my weakness and my suffering.”
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The youth is mistaken. Men and women who have reached maturity have not become indifferent. If even in love they know the passion is fleeting, that very thought makes the experience acute, more ardent. “Nothing is sadder than a second love,” Goethe said. “But a third comes and soothes the other two.”
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I speak here not only of personal problems and private sorrows. In political life it is especially true that long-faced prophets of misfortune unsettle inexperienced young men. Now here again a longer life teaches that events straighten themselves out by time and circumstance. And a wise old Italian diplomat used to say to the young men who surrounded him. “Don’t ever say, ‘This is very serious.’ For sixty years I have been hearing that things are very serious.”
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As a matter of fact, how can a human situation possibly be otherwise than serious? It is very serious to be a man, to live, to carry on. And yet it is also true that, as the Italian minister suggested, life is very simple, very beautiful; and that it has been going on now for some millions of years.
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“The hollow optimism of words,” some will think. In present sorrow the mere abstract idea of future relief is comfortless. But life itself shows us the way to more active solace. We learn that we can cut loose from its most painful moments. Flee the place of grief and the ache will heal. Twenty miles … the thought of not seeing for some time those who have wounded us … and little by little unhappy memories fade. Better still, even without stirring from the spot, escape from torment is possible by the enjoyment of reading, of music, and of some form of creation. The function of Art in life is to substitute for futile and painful concentration upon oneself the serene and selfless contemplation of Beauty.
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Life’s second lesson—at least for me—is that few people are wholly evil. In his first years of contact with strangers, the youth who has known only the mild life of the family circle is frightened by the cruelty, selfishness, jealousy, which he thinks he meets at every turn. His pessimism is not entirely unfounded: humanity can be appallingly base. But as we come to know people better we find that they are capable of kindliness, of enduring tenderness, of great heroism. Then we begin to realize that what is really fear of life is shielding itself behind the armor of crime. What seems revenge is really suffering. And, most frequent of all, ignorance is judging and acting blindly. The English writer, Charles Lamb, said one day, “I hate that man.” “But you don’t know him,” a listener objected. “Of course I don’t,” said Lamb. “Do you think I could possibly hate a man I know?”
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