These depths and the colors are the English romanticism and the English sensitiveness—we do not expect to find such things, but they exist. And—to continue my metaphor—the fish are the English emotions, which are always trying to get up to the surface, but don't quite know how. For the most part we see them moving far below, distorted and obscure. Now and then they succeed and we exclaim, "Why, the Englishman has emotions! He actually can feel!" And occasionally we see that beautiful creature the flying fish, which rises out of the water altogether into the air and the sunlight. English literature is a flying fish. It is a sample of the life that goes on day after day beneath the surface; it is a proof that beauty and emotion exist in the salt, inhospitable sea.
大海的最深處和各種各樣的顏色就像英國的浪漫主義和敏感性。我們沒料到能在英國人的特性中找到這些特點，但它們確實存在。現在繼續我的比喻，魚是英國人的感情，總想游到水面，只是不知道如何才能實現。多數情況下我們看到它們在深處游動，形體扭曲，模糊不清。有時它們成功地游到水面，我們便會歡呼：“哇，英國人是有感情的！他們的確會感受！”偶爾我們會看到那美麗的文鰩魚完全躍出海面，跳到空中，沐浴在陽光下。英國文學如同一條文鰩魚。它表明，在表層下面在人們不易注意到的地方，生命一天天地延續著；同時它也證明在咸咸的、不適于居住的海水中存在著美麗和情感。
And now let's get back to terra firma. The Englishman's attitude toward criticism will give us another starting point. He is not annoyed by criticism. He listens or not as the case may be smiles and passes on, saying, "Oh, the fellow's jealous"; "Oh, I'm used to Bernard Shaw; monkey tricks don't hurt me." It never occurs to him that the fellow may be accurate as well as jealous, and that he might do well to take the criticism to heart and profit by it. It never strikes him—except as a form of words—that he is capable of improvement; his self-complacency is abysmal. Other nations, both Oriental and European, have an uneasy feeling that they are not quite perfect. In consequence they resent criticism. It hurts them; and their snappy answers often mask a determination to improve themselves. Not so the Englishman. He has no uneasy feeling. Let the critics bark. And the "tolerant humorous attitude" with which he confronts them is not really humorous, because it is bounded by the titter and the guffaw.
現在讓我們回到陸地。我們將以英國人對于批評的態度為起點。英國人不會被批評惹惱。他們聆聽，也許根本沒聽，一笑了之，并說，“噢，那家伙在嫉妒。”“噢，我已經適應了蕭伯納似的老把戲，它們傷害不到我。”英國人從來不去想那人可能有點嫉妒但他批評得對，不會認真考慮別人的批評并從中受益。英國人從不認為自己還需要進步，改進只是說說而已，他們極度自滿；東方和歐洲的其他國家總是因自身不夠完美而不安，因此，他們憎惡批評，批評傷害了他們，他們迅速而又憤怒的回答常常掩飾了他們追求進步的決心。而英國人卻不這樣，他們根本沒有不安的感覺。讓批評家們去叫囂吧，英國人認為自己在遇到困難時所采取的“寬容的幽默態度”并不是真正的幽默，因為無論是偷笑還是狂笑都暴露了他的不安。
I have suggested earlier that the English are sometimes hypocrites, and it is now my duty to develop this rather painful subject. Hypocrisy is the prime charge that is always brought against us. The Germans are called brutal, the Spanish cruel, the Americans superficial, and so on; but we are perfide Albion, the island of hypocrites, the people who have built up an Empire with a Bible in one hand, a pistol in the other and financial concessions in both pockets.
此前我曾暗示英國人有時是虛偽的，現在我有責任展開這個相當痛苦的話題。虛偽是向我們提出的最重要的指控。德國人野蠻，西班牙人殘忍，美國人膚淺，等等；然而我們是虛偽的英國、虛偽的島嶼，這里的人們一手拿著圣經，一手握著手槍建立了大英帝國，兩手同時擁有財政特許權。
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