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When I say that I am convinced of these things I speak with too much pride. Far off, like a perfect pearl, one can see the city of God[90a]. It is so wonderful that it seems as if a child could reach it in a summer’s day. And so a child could. But with me and such as I am it is different. One can realise a thing in a single moment, but one loses it in the long hours that follow with leaden feet[90b]. It is so difficult to keep “heights that the soul is competent to gain.” [90.1] We think in Eternity, but we move slowly through Time: and how slowly time goes with us who lie in prison I need not speak again, nor of the weariness and despair that creep back into one’s cell, and into the cell of one’s heart, with such strange insistence that one has, as it were, to garnish and sweep one’s house for their coming, as for an unwelcome guest, or a bitter master, or a slave whose slave it is one’s chance or choice to be[90c]. And, though at present you may find it a thing hard to believe, it is true none the less that for you, living in freedom and idleness and comfort, it is more easy to learn the lessons of Humility than it is for me, who begin the day by going down on my knees and washing the floor of my cell. For prison-life, with its endless privations and restrictions, makes one rebellious. The most terrible thing about it is not that it breaks one’s heart—hearts are made to be broken—but that it turns one’s heart to stone. One sometimes feels that it is only with a front of brass and a lip of scorn that one can get through the day at all. And he who is in a state of rebellion cannot receive grace, to use the phrase of which the Church is so fond—so rightly fond, I dare say—for in life, as in Art, the mood of rebellion closes up the channels of the soul, and shuts out the airs of heaven. Yet I must learn these lessons here, if I am to learn them anywhere, and must be filled with joy if my feet are on the right road, and my face set towards the “gate which is called Beautiful,” [90.2] though I may fall many times in the mire, and often in the mist go astray.
当我说我信了这些道理时，口气太大了。 远远的，犹如一粒美轮美奂的珍珠，看得见那是上帝的城池[90a]。那城是如此美妙，好像一个小孩子在夏日里一天便可以到达似的。小孩子可以。但是我，像我现在这样，就不同了。一个道理，人可以片刻间顿然领悟，但又在沉甸甸地跟在后头的深更半夜里失去[90b]。要守住“灵魂所能登上的高峰”，谈何容易。我们思想着的是永恒，但慢慢通过的却是时间。而对铁窗内的我们时间过得有多慢，就不用再说了；也不用再说那爬回监狱牢房、爬进心底牢房的疲惫与绝望。那疲惫与绝望如此奇怪，驱不散，抹不掉，好像只能装点洒扫房屋让它们进来，就像接一个不受欢迎的客人、一个厉害的主子，或者一个奴隶，我们是阴差阳错或咎由自取地成了奴下之奴[90c]。虽然一时间你可能觉得难以相信，但对于你这依然是千真万确的：自由自在、无所事事、舒舒服服地过着日子，学会谦卑的功课要比我容易，我每天一早就得双膝跪地，擦洗牢房的地板。因为监狱生活那道不尽的艰辛、数不完的条规，使人产生叛逆心理。最可怕的不在于这令人心碎——心生来就是要碎的——而在于这使人心变成石头。有时人会觉得，如果不绷着铁板一样的脸皮，翘着不屑的嘴角，这一天就挨不到黑。而心怀叛逆的人，借用教堂里很喜欢用的一句话说，受不到神的恩典——我敢说，教堂喜欢这句话是很有道理的——因为生活同艺术一样，叛逆的心境使灵魂闭塞，将灵气堵住。然而这功课我要学的话，就必须在这个地方学，而且要是脚踏在正道上，脸朝定那“名叫美的门”，心中就必然会充满喜乐，尽管常常也会在泥淖中失足跌倒，在迷雾中失去方向。
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