Thoughts in Westminster Abbey fexcerpted J
1"oseph Addison
约瑟夫·艾迪生(Joseph Addison，1672一1719年)，英国文学评论家、著名散文家、剧作家、诗人，曾任副国务大臣，议会议员等职。他是英国期刊文学的创始人之一。艾迪生于1672年5月1日，在英国西南部的威尔特郡(Wihshire)出生，父亲是立斯菲尔德(Lichfield)的教长。1693年艾迪生寄给著名诗人约翰·德莱顿(John DrTden)一首诗，1694年艾迪生撰写的一部有关英国诗人生平的书获得出版。1699年艾迪生开始为从事外交工作接受训练，游历欧洲各国，同时研究政治。1705年他在哈利法克斯的政府中工作，出任副国务秘书，1708年当选国会议员，之后被派往爱尔兰，在那里度过一年，并结识了乔纳森·斯威夫特(JonathanSwift)。
回到英国后他与斯蒂尔合作创办杂志《闲谈者》，两人在1711年创办了另一份杂志《旁观者》，艾迪生此时成为一名非常成功的剧作家。在这些刊物上发表的作品，使他在写作技巧上把英语散文提高到前所未有的完美境界。艾迪生对生活的观察客观、深入，并对一些严肃重大的主题发表过发人深省的评论，他的文风洗练、整肃、精确，是英国迄今为止最好的散文作家之一，主要作品有《科弗莱的罗杰爵士在家中》《罗杰爵士和威尔·温伯》《罗杰爵士在教堂》等等。
1716年，艾迪生与沃里克伯爵夫人结婚，17‘17年至1718年，他担任了国务秘书，后因健康原因被迫辞职，但是直到去世，他一直都担任国会议员。1719年6月艾迪生去世，被埋葬在西敏寺。
When I have a heary heart，I very often walk by myself in Westminster Abbey：where the gloominess of the place，and the use t0~hich it is applied，with the solemnity of the building，and the condition of the people who lie in it，are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy，or rather thoughtfulness，that is not disagreeable．I yesterday passed a whole afternoon in the churchyard，the cloisters，and the church，amusing myself with the tombstones and inscriptions that I met with in those several regions of the dead．Most of them recorded nothing else of the buried person，but that he was born upon one day，and died upon another：the whole history of his life being comprehended in those two circum stances，that are common to all mankind．I could not but look upon these registers of existence，whether of brass or marble，as a kind of satire upon the departed persons；who had left no other memorial of them，but that they were born and that they died．They put me in mind of several persons mentioned in the battles of heroic poems，who have sounding names given them，for no other reason but that they may be killed，and are celebrated for nothing but being knocked on the head．The life of these men is finely described in Bible by the path of an arrow，which is immediately closed up and lost．
Upon my going into the church，I entertained myself with the digging of a grave；and saw in every shovelful of it that was thrown up，the fragment of a bone or skull intermixt with a kind of fresh mouldering earth，that some time or other had a place in the composition of a human body．Upon this I began to consider with myself what innumerable multitudes of people lay confused together under the pavement of that ancient cathedral；how men and women，friends and enemies，priests and soldiers，monks and prebendaries，were crumbled amongst one another，and blended together in the same common mass；how beauty，strength，youth，with old age，weakness，and deformity，lay undistinguished in the same promiscuous heap of matter．
After having thus surveyed this great magazine of mortality，as itwere，in the lump；I examined it more particularly by the accounts whichI found on several of the monuments which are raised in every quarterof that ancient fabric．Some of them were cow~red with such extravagantepitaphs，that，if it were possible for the dead person to be acquaintedwith them．he would blush at the praises which his friends have bestowedupon him．There are others SO excessively modest，that they deliver thecharacter of the person departed in Greek or Hebrew，and bV that meansare not understood once in a twelvemonth．In the poetical quarterI foundthere were poets who had no monuments，and monuments which had nopoets．I observed，indeed，that the present war has filled the church withmany of these uninhabited monuments，whicih had been erected to thememory of persons whose bodies were perhaps buried in the plains ofBlenheim，or in the bosom of the ocean． I could not but be very much delighted with several modem epitaphs，which are written with great elegance of expression and justness ofthought，and therefore do honour to the living as well as to the dead．Asa foreigner is very apt to conceive an idea of the ignorance of politenessof a nation，from the turn of their public monuments and inscriptions，they should be submitted to the perusal of men of learning and genius，before they are put in execution．Sir Cloudesly Shovel’S monument hasvery often given me great offence：instead of the brave rough EnglishAdmiral，which was the distinguishing character of that plain gallantman，he is represented on his tomb by the figure of a beau，dressed in along periwig，and reposing himself upon velvet cushions under a canopyof state．The inscription iS answerable to the monument；for instead ofcelebrating the many remarkable actions he had performed in the serviceof his country，it acquaints US only with the mariner of his death，in whichit was impossible for him to reap any honour．The Dutch．whom we areapt to despise for deficient of genius，show an infinitely greater taste of antiquity and politeness in their buildings and works of this nature，than what we meet with in those of our own country．The monuments of their admirals，which have been erected at the public expense，represent them like themselves；and are adorned with rostral crowns and naval ornaments，with beautiful festoons of seaweed，shells，and coral．