讀點(diǎn)好英文:On Tea and Friendship 茶和交友

On Tea and Friendship 茶和交友

Lin Yutang

I do not think that, considered from the point of view of human culture and happiness, there have been more significant inventions in the history of mankind, more vitally important and more directly contributing to our enjoyment of leisure, friendship, sociability and conversation, than the inventions of smoking, drinking and tea. All three have several characteristics in common: first of all, that they contribute toward our sociability; secondly, that they do not fill our stomach as food does, and therefore can be enjoyed between meals; and thirdly, that they are all to be enjoyed through the nostrils by acting on our sense of smell. So great are their influences upon culture that we have smoking cars besides dining cars, and we have wine restaurants or taverns and tea houses. In China and England at least, drinking tea has become a social institution.

The proper enjoyment of tobacco, drink and tea can only be developed in an atmosphere of leisure, friendship and sociability. For it is only with men gifted with the sense of comradeship, extremely select in the matter of forming friends and endowed with a natural love of the leisurely life, that the full enjoyment of tobacco and drink and tea becomes possible. Take away the element of sociability, and these things have no meaning. The enjoyment of these things, like the enjoyment of the moon, the snow and the flowers, must take place in proper company, for this I regard as the thing that the Chinese artists of life most frequently insist upon: that certain kinds of flowers must be enjoyed with certain types of persons, certain kinds of scenery must be associated with certain kinds of ladies, that the sound of raindrops must be enjoyed, if it is to be enjoyed fully, when lying on a bamboo bed in a temple deep in the mountains on a summer day; that, in short, the mood is the thing, that there is a proper mood for everything, and that wrong company may spoil the mood entirely. Hence the beginning of any artist of life is that he or anyone who wishes to learn to enjoy life must, as the absolutely necessary condition, find friends of the same type of temperament, and take as much trouble to gain and keep their friendship as wives take to keep their husbands, or as a good chess player takes a journey of a thousand miles to meet a fellow chess player.

The atmosphere, therefore, is the thing. One must begin with the proper conception of the scholar's studio and the general environment in which life is going to be enjoyed. First of all, there are the friends with whom we are going to share this enjoyment. Different types of friends must be selected for different types of enjoyment. It would be as great a mistake to go horseback riding with a studious and pensive friend, as it would be to go to a concert with a person who doesn't understand music. Hence as a Chinese writer expresses it:

For enjoying flowers, one must secure big-hearted friends. For going to sing-song houses to have a look at sing-song girls, one must secure temperate friends. For going up a high mountain, one must secure romantic friends. For boating, one must secure friends with an expansive nature. For facing the moon, one must secure friends with a cool philosophy. For anticipating snow, one must secure beautiful friends. For a wine party, one must secure friends with flavor and charm.

Having selected and formed friends for the proper enjoyment of different occasions, one then looks for the proper surroundings. It is not so important that one's house be richly decorated as that it should be situated in beautiful country, with the possibility of walking about on the rice fields, or lying down under shady trees on a river bank. The requirements for the house itself are simple enough. One can "have a house with several rooms, grain fields of several mow, a pool made from a basin and windows made from broken jars, with the walls coming up to the shoulders and a room the size of a rice bushel, and in the leisure time after enjoying the warmth of cotton beddings and a meal of vegetable soup, one can become so great that his spirit expands and fills the entire universe. For such a quiet studio, one should have wut'ung trees in front and some green bamboos behind. On the south of the house, the eaves will stretch boldly forward, while on the north side, there will be small windows, which can be closed in spring and winter to shelter one from rain and wind, and opened in summer and autumn for ventilation. The beauty of the wut'ung tree is that all its leaves fall off in spring and winter, thus admitting us to the full enjoyment of the sun's warmth, while in summer and autumn its shade protects us from the scorching heat." Or as another writer expressed it, one should "build a house of several beams, grow a hedge of chin trees and cover a pavilion with a hay-thatch. Three mow of land will be devoted to planting bamboos and flowers and fruit trees, while two mow will be devoted to planting vegetables. The four walls of a room are bare and the room is empty, with the exception of two or three rough beds placed in the pavilion. A peasant boy will be kept to water the vegetables and clear the weeds. So then one may arm one's self with books and a sword against solitude, and provide a ch'in (a stringed instrument) and chess to anticipate the coming of good friends."

An atmosphere of familiarity will then invest the place.

In my studio, all formalities will be abolished, and only the most intimate friends will be admitted. They will be treated with rich or poor fare such as I eat, and we will chat and laugh and forget our own existence. We will not discuss the right and wrong of other people and will be totally indifferent to worldly glory and wealth. In our leisure we will discuss the ancients and the moderns, and in our quiet, we will play with the mountains and rivers. Then we will have thin, clear tea and good wine to fit into the atmosphere of delightful seclusion. That is my conception of the pleasure of friendship.

In such a congenial atmosphere, we are then ready to gratify our senses, the senses of color and smell and sound. It is then that one should smoke and one should drink. We then transform our bodies into a sensory apparatus for perceiving the wonderful symphony of colors and sounds and smells and tastes provided by Nature and by culture. We feel like good violins about to be played on by master violinists. And thus "we burn incense on a moonlight night and play three stanzas of music from an ancient instrument, and immediately the myriad worries of our breast are banished and all our foolish ambitions or desires are forgotten. We will then inquire, what is the fragance of this incense, what is the color of the smoke, what is that shadow that comes through the white papered windows, what is this sound that arises from below my fingertips, what is this enjoyment which makes us so quietly happy and so forgetful of everything else, and what is the condition of the infinite universe?"

Thus chastened in spirit, quiet in mind and surrounded by proper company, one is fit to enjoy tea. For tea is invented for quiet company as wine is invented for a noisy party. There is something in the nature of tea that leads us into a world of quiet contemplation of life. It would be as disastrous to drink tea with babies crying around, or with loud-voiced women or politics-talking men, as to pick tea on a rainy or a cloudy day. Picked at early dawn on a clear day, when the morning air on mountain top was clear and thin, and the fragrance of dews was still upon the leaves, tea is still associated with the fragrance and refinement of the magic dew in its enjoyment. With the Taoist insistence upon return to nature, and with its conception that the universe is kept alive by the interplay of the male and female forces, the dew actually stands for the "juice of heaven and earth" when the two principles are united at night, and the idea is current that the dew is a magic food, fine and clear and ethereal, and any man or beast who drinks enough of it stands a good chance of being immortal. De Quincey says quite correctly that tea "will always be the favorite beverage of the intellectual," but the Chinese seem to go further and associate it with the high-minded recluse.

Tea is then symbolic of earthly purity, requiring the most fastidious cleanliness in its preparation, from picking, frying and preserving to its final infusion and drinking, easily upset or spoiled by the slightest contamination of oily hands or oily cups. Consequently, its enjoyment is appropriate in an atmosphere where all ostentation or suggestion of luxury is banished from one's eyes and one's thoughts. After all, one enjoys sing-song girls with wine and not with tea, and when sing-song girls are fit to drink tea with, they are already in the class that Chinese poets and scholars favor. Su Tungp'o once compared tea to a sweet maiden, but a later critic, T'ien Yiheng, author of Chuch'ü an Hsiaop'in (Essay On Boiling Spring Water) immediately qualified it by adding that tea could be compared, if it must be compared to women at all, only to the Fairy Maku, and that, "as for beauties with peach-colored faces and willow waists, they should be shut up in curtained beds, and not be allowed to contaminate the rocks and springs." For the same author says, "One drinks tea to forget the world's noise; it is not for those who eat rich food and dress in silk pyjamas."

It must be remembered that, according to Ch'alu, "the essence of the enjoyment of tea lies in appreciation of its color, fragrance and flavor, and the principles of preparation are refinement, dryness and cleanliness." An element of quiet is therefore necessary for the appreciation of these qualities, an appreciation that comes from a man who can "look at a hot world with a cool head." Since the Sung Dynasty, connoisseurs have generally regarded a cup of pale tea as the best, and the delicate flavor of pale tea can easily pass unperceived by one occupied with busy thoughts, or when the neighborhood is noisy, or servants are quarreling, or when served by ugly maids. The company, too, must be small. For, "it is important in drinking tea that the guests be few. Many guests would make it noisy, and noisiness takes away from its cultured charm. To drink alone is called secluded; to drink between two is called comfortable; to drink with three or four is called charming, to drink with five or six is called common; and to drink with seven or eight is called [contemptuously] philanthropic." As the author of Ch'asu said, "to pour tea around again and again from a big pot, and drink it up at a gulp, or to warm it up again after a while, or to ask for extremely strong taste would be like farmers or artisans who drink tea to fill their belly after hard work; it would then be impossible to speak of the distinction and appreciation of flavors."

For this reason, and out of consideration for the utmost rightness and cleanliness in preparation, Chinese writers on tea have always insisted on personal attention in boiling tea, or since that is necessarily inconvenient, that two boy servants be specially trained to do the job. Tea is usually boiled on a separate small stove in the room or directly outside, away from the kitchen. The servant boys must be trained to make tea in the presence of their master and to observe a routine of cleanliness, washing the cups every morning (never wiping them with a towel), washing their hands often and keeping their fingernails clean. "When there are three guests, one stove will be enough, but when there are five or six persons, two separate stoves and kettles will be required, one boy attending to each stove, for if one is required to attend to both, there may be delays or mix-ups." True connoisseurs, however, regard the personal preparation of tea as a special pleasure. Without developing into a rigid system as in Japan, the preparation and drinking of tea is always a performance of loving pleasure, importance and distinction. In fact, the preparation is half the fun of the drinking, as cracking melon-seeds between one's teeth is half the pleasure of eating them.

Usually a stove is set before a window, with good hard charcoal burning. A certain sense of importance invests the host, who fans the stove and watches the vapor coming out from the kettle. Methodically he arranges a small pot and four tiny cups, usually smaller than small coffee cups, in a tray. He sees that they are in order, moves the pewter-foil pot of tea leaves near the tray and keeps it in readiness, chatting along with his guests, but not so much that he forgets his duties. He turns round to look at the stove, and from the time the kettle begins to sing, he never leaves it, but continues to fan the fire harder than before. Perhaps he stops to take the lid off and look at the tiny bubbles, technically called "fish eyes" or "crab froth," appearing on the bottom of the kettle, and puts the lid on again. This is the "first boil." He listens carefully as the gentle singing increases in volume to that of a "gurgle," with small bubbles coming up the sides of the kettle, technically called the "second boil." It is then that he watches most carefully the vapor emitted from the kettle spout, and just shortly before the "third boil" is reached, when the water is brought up to a full boil, "like billowing waves," he takes the kettle from the fire and scalds the pot inside and out with the boiling water, immediately adds the proper quantity of leaves and makes the infusion. Tea of this kind, like the famous "Iron Goddess of Mercy," drunk in Fukien, is made very thick. The small pot is barely enough to hold four demi-tasses and is filled one-third with leaves. As the quantity of leaves is large, the tea is immediately poured into the cups and immediately drunk. This finishes the pot, and the kettle, filled with fresh water, is put on the fire again, getting ready for the second pot. Strictly speaking, the second pot is regarded as the best; the first pot being compared to a girl of thirteen, the second compared to a girl of sweet sixteen, and the third regarded as a woman. Theoretically, the third infusion from the same leaves is disallowed by connoisseurs, but actually one does try to live on with the "woman."

The above is a strict description of preparing a special kind of tea as I have seen it in my native province, an art generally unknown in North China. In China generally, tea pots used are much larger, and the ideal color of tea is a clear, pale, golden yellow, never dark red like English tea.

Of course, we are speaking of tea as drunk by connoisseurs and not as generally served among shopkeepers. No such nicety can be expected of general mankind or when tea is consumed by the gallon by all comers. That is why the author of Ch'asu, Hs ü Ts'eshu, says, "When there is a big party, with visitors coming and coming, one can only exchange with them cups of wine, and among strangers who have just met or among common friends, one should serve only tea of the ordinary quality. Only when our intimate friends of the same temperament have arrived, and we are all happy, all brilliant in conversation and all able to lay aside the formalities, then may we ask the boy servant to build a fire and draw water, and decide the number of stoves and cups to be used in accordance with the company present." It is of this state of things that the author of Ch'achieh says, "We are sitting at night in a mountain lodge, and are boiling tea with water from a mountain spring. When the fire attacks the water, we begin to hear a sound similar to the singing of the wind among pine trees. We pour the tea into a cup, and the gentle glow of its light plays around the place. The pleasure of such a moment cannot be shared with vulgar people."

In a true tea lover, the pleasure of handling all the paraphernalia is such that it is enjoyed for its own sake, as in the case of Ts'ai Hsiang, who in his old age was not able to drink, but kept on enjoying the preparation of tea as a daily habit. There was also another scholar, by the name of Chou Wenfu, who prepared and drank tea six times daily at definite hours from dawn to evening, and who loved his pot so much that he had it buried with him when he died.

The art and technique of tea enjoyment, then, consists of the following: first, tea, being most susceptible to contamination of flavors, must be handled throughout with the utmost cleanliness and kept apart from wine, incense, and other smelly substances and people handling such substances. Second, it must be kept in a cool, dry place, and during moist seasons, a reasonable quantity for use must be kept in special small pots, best made of pewterfoil, while the reserve in the big pots is not opened except when necessary, and if a collection gets moldy, it should be submitted to a gentle roasting over a slow fire, uncovered and constantly fanned, so as to prevent the leaves from turning yellow or becoming discolored. Third, half of the art of making tea lies in getting good water with a keen edge; mountain spring water comes first, river water second, and well water third; water from the tap, if coming from dams, being essentially mountain water and satisfactory. Fourth, for the appreciation of rare cups, one must have quiet friends and not too many of them at one time. Fifth, the proper color of tea in general is a pale golden yellow, and all dark red tea must be taken with milk or lemon or peppermint, or anything to cover up its awful sharp taste. Sixth, the best tea has a "return flavor" (hueiwei), which is felt about half a minute after drinking and after its chemical elements have had time to act on the salivary glands. Seven, tea must be freshly made and drunk immediately, and if good tea is expected, it should not be allowed to stand in the pot for too long, when the infusion has gone too far. Eight, it must be made with water just brought up to a boil. Nine, all adulterants are taboo, although individual differences may be allowed for people who prefer a slight mixture of some foreign flavor (e.g., jasmine, or cassia). Eleven, the flavor expected of the best tea is the delicate flavor of "baby's flesh."

In accordance with the Chinese practice of prescribing the proper moment and surrounding for enjoying a thing, Ch'asu, an excellent treatise on tea, reads thus:

Proper moments for drinking tea:

When one's heart and hands are idle.

Tired after reading poetry.

When one's thoughts are disturbed.

Listening to songs and ditties.

When a song is completed.

Shut up at one's home on a holiday.

Playing the ch'in and looking over paintings.

Engaged in conversation deep at night.

Before a bright window and a clean desk.

?With charming friends and slender concubines.

Returning from a visit with friends.

When the day is clear and the breeze is mild.

On a day of light showers.

In a painted boat near a small wooden bridge.

In a forest with tall bamboos.

In a pavilion overlooking lotus flowers on a summer day.

Having lighted incense in a small studio.

After a feast is over and the guests are gone.

When children are at school.

In a quiet, secluded temple.

Near famous springs and quaint rocks.

Moments when one should stop drinking tea:

At work. Watching a play.

Opening letters.

During big rain and snow.

At a long wine feast with a big party.

Going through documents.

On busy days.

Generally conditions contrary to those enumerated in the above section.

Things to be avoided:

Bad water.

Bad utensils.

Brass spoons.

Brass kettles.

Wooden pails (for water).

?Wood for fuel (on account of smoke).

Soft charcoal.

Coarse servant.

Bad-tempered maid.

Unclean towels.

All varieties of incense and medicine.

Things and places to be kept away from:

Damp rooms.

Kitchens.

Noisy streets.

Crying infants.

Hotheaded persons.

Quarreling servants.

Hot rooms.

茶和交友

林語堂

我以為從人類文化和快樂的觀點(diǎn)論起來，人類歷史中的杰出新發(fā)明，其能直接有力地有助于我們的享受空閑、友誼、社交和談天者，莫過于吸煙、飲酒、飲茶的發(fā)明。這三件事有幾樣共同的特質(zhì)：第一，它們有助于我們的社交；第二，這幾件東西不至于一吃就飽，可以在吃飯的中間隨時(shí)吸飲；第三，都是可以藉嗅覺去享受的東西。它們對(duì)于文化的影響極大，所以餐車之外另有吸煙車，飯店之外另有酒店和茶館，至少在中國和英國，飲茶已經(jīng)成為社交上一種不可少的制度。

煙酒茶的適當(dāng)享受，只能在空閑、友誼和樂于招待之中發(fā)展出來。因?yàn)橹挥懈挥诮挥研?，擇友極慎，天然喜愛閑適生活的人士，方有圓滿享受煙酒茶的機(jī)會(huì)。如將樂于招待心除去，這三種東西便成毫無意義。享受這三件東西，也如享受雪月花草一般，須有適當(dāng)?shù)耐?。中國的生活藝術(shù)家最注意此點(diǎn)，例如：看花須和某種人為伴，賞景須有某種女子為伴，聽雨最好須在夏日山中寺院內(nèi)躺在竹榻上?？偫ㄆ饋碚f，賞玩一樣?xùn)|西時(shí)，最緊要的是心境。我們對(duì)每一種事物，各有一種不同的心境。不適當(dāng)?shù)耐?，常?huì)敗壞心境。所以生活藝術(shù)家的出發(fā)點(diǎn)就是：他如更想要享受人生，則第一個(gè)必要條件即是和性情相投的人交朋友，須盡力維持這友誼，如妻子要維持其丈夫的愛情一般，或如一個(gè)下棋名手寧愿跑一千里的長途去會(huì)見一個(gè)同志一般。

所以氣氛是重要的東西。我們必須先對(duì)文士的書室的布置，和它的一般的環(huán)境有了相當(dāng)?shù)恼J(rèn)識(shí)，方能了解他怎樣在享受生活。第一，他們必須有共同享受這種生活的朋友，不同的享受須有不同的朋友。和一個(gè)勤學(xué)而含愁思的朋友共去騎馬，即屬引非其類，正如和一個(gè)不懂音樂的人去欣賞一次音樂表演一般。因此，某中國作家曾說過：

賞花須結(jié)豪友，觀枝須結(jié)淡友，登山須結(jié)逸友，泛舟須結(jié)曠友，對(duì)月須結(jié)冷友，捉酒須結(jié)韻友。

他對(duì)各種享受已選定了不同的適當(dāng)游伴之后，還須去找尋適當(dāng)?shù)沫h(huán)境。所住的房屋，布置不必一定講究，地點(diǎn)也不限于風(fēng)景優(yōu)美的鄉(xiāng)間，不必一定需一片稻田方足供他的散步，也不必一定有曲折的小溪以供他在溪邊的樹下小憩。他所需的房屋極其簡單，只需：“有屋數(shù)間，有田數(shù)畝，用盆為池，以甕為牖，墻高于肩，室大于斗，布被暖余，藜羹飽后，氣吐胸中，充塞宇宙。凡靜室，須前栽碧梧，后種翠竹。前檐放步，北用暗窗，春冬閉之，以避風(fēng)雨，夏秋可開，以通涼爽。然碧梧之趣，春冬落葉，以舒負(fù)喧融和之樂，夏秋交蔭，以蔽炎爍蒸烈之威。”或如另一位作家所說，一個(gè)人可以“筑室數(shù)楹，編槿為籬，結(jié)茅為亭。以三畝蔭竹樹栽花果，二畝種蔬菜。四壁清曠，空諸所有。蓄山童灌園薙草，置二三胡床著亭下。挾書劍，伴孤寂，攜琴奕，以遲良友?！?/p>

到處充滿著親熱的空氣。

吾齋之中，不尚虛禮。凡入此齋，均為知己。隨分款留，忘形笑語。不言是非，不侈榮利。閑談古今，靜玩山水。清茶好酒，以適幽趣。臭味之交，如斯而已。

在這種同類相引的氣氛中，我們方能滿足色香聲的享受，吸煙飲酒也在這個(gè)時(shí)候最為相宜。我們的全身便于這時(shí)變成一種盛受器械，能充分去享受大自然和文化所供給我們的色聲香味。我們好像已變?yōu)橐话褍?yōu)美的小提琴，正待由一位大音樂家來拉奏名曲了。于是我們“月夜焚香，古桐三弄，便覺萬慮都忘，妄想盡絕。試看香是何味，煙是何色，穿窗之白，是何影，指下之余是何音，恬然樂之，而悠然忘之者，是何趣，不可思量處是何境？”

一個(gè)人在這種神清氣爽、心氣平靜、知己滿前的境地中，方真能領(lǐng)略到茶的滋味。因?yàn)椴桧氺o品，而酒則須熱鬧。茶之為物，性能引導(dǎo)我們進(jìn)入一個(gè)默想人生的世界。飲茶之時(shí)而有兒童在旁哭鬧，或粗蠢婦人在旁大聲說話，或自命通人者在旁高談國是，即十分?jǐn)∨d，也正如在雨天或陰天去采茶一般的糟糕。因?yàn)椴刹璞仨毺鞖馇迕鞯那逶?，?dāng)山上的空氣極為清新，露水的芬芳尚留于葉上時(shí)，所采的茶葉方稱上品。照中國人說起來，露水實(shí)在具有芬芳和神秘的功用，和茶的優(yōu)劣很有關(guān)系。照道家的返自然和宇宙之能生存全恃陰陽二氣交融的說法，露水實(shí)在是天地在夜間和融后的精英。至今尚有人相信露水為清鮮神秘的瓊漿，多飲即能致人獸長生。特昆雪所說的話很對(duì)，他說：“茶永遠(yuǎn)是聰慧的人們的飲料?！钡袊藙t更進(jìn)一步，而視它為風(fēng)雅隱士的珍品。

因此，茶是凡間純潔的象征，在采制烹煮的手續(xù)中，都須十分清潔。采摘烘焙，烹煮取飲之時(shí)，手上或±壺中略有油膩不潔，便會(huì)使它喪失美味。所以也只有在眼前和心中毫無富麗繁華的景象和念頭時(shí)，方能真正地享受它。和妓女作樂時(shí)，當(dāng)然用酒而不用茶。但一個(gè)妓女如有了品茶的資格，則她便可以躋于詩人文士所歡迎的妙人兒之列了。蘇東坡曾以美女喻茶，但后來，另一個(gè)持論家，“煮泉小品”的作者田藝恒即補(bǔ)充說，如果定要以茶去擬女人，則唯有麻姑仙子可做比擬。至于“必若桃臉柳腰，宜亟屏之銷金幔中，無俗我泉石?！庇终f：“啜茶忘喧，謂非膏梁紈綺可語。”

據(jù)《茶錄》所說：“其旨?xì)w于色香味，其道歸于精燥潔?！彼匀绻w味這些質(zhì)素，靜默是一個(gè)必要的條件；也只有“以一個(gè)冷靜的頭腦去看忙亂的世界”的人，才能夠體味出這些質(zhì)素。自從宋代以來，一般喝茶的鑒賞家認(rèn)為一杯淡茶才是最好的東西，當(dāng)一個(gè)人專心思想的時(shí)候，或是在鄰居嘈雜、仆人爭吵的時(shí)候，或是由面貌丑陋的女仆侍候的時(shí)候，當(dāng)會(huì)很容易地忽略了淡茶的美妙氣味。同時(shí)，喝茶的友伴也不可多，“因?yàn)轱嫴枰钥蜕贋橘F?？捅妱t喧，喧則雅趣乏矣。獨(dú)啜曰幽；二客曰勝；三四曰趣；五六曰泛；七八曰施?！薄恫枋摺返淖髡哒f：“若巨器屢巡，滿中瀉飲，待停少溫，或求濃苦，何異農(nóng)匠作勞，但需涓滴；何論品賞？何知風(fēng)味乎？”

因?yàn)檫@個(gè)理由，因?yàn)橐櫟脚霑r(shí)的合度和潔凈，有茶癖的中國文士都主張烹茶須自己動(dòng)手。如嫌不便，可用兩個(gè)小童為助。烹茶須用小爐，烹煮的地點(diǎn)須遠(yuǎn)離廚房，而近飲處。茶童須受過訓(xùn)練，當(dāng)主人的面前烹煮。一切手續(xù)都須十分潔凈，茶杯須每晨洗滌，但不可用布揩擦。童兒的兩手須常洗，指甲中的污膩須剔干凈?！叭艘陨?，止?fàn)k一爐，如五六人，便當(dāng)兩鼎，爐用一童，湯方調(diào)適，若令兼作，恐有參差?！闭嬲b賞家常以親自烹茶為一種殊樂。中國的烹茶飲茶方法不像日本那么過分嚴(yán)肅和講規(guī)則，而仍屬一種富有樂趣而又高尚重要的事情。實(shí)在說起來，烹茶之樂和飲茶之樂各居其半，正如吃西瓜子，用牙齒咬瓜子殼之樂和吃瓜子肉之樂實(shí)各居其半。

茶爐大都置在窗前，用硬炭生火。主人很鄭重地扇著爐火，注視著水壺中的熱氣。他用一個(gè)茶盤，很整齊地裝著一個(gè)泥茶壺和四個(gè)比咖啡杯小一些的茶杯。再將貯茶葉的錫罐安放在茶盤的旁邊，隨口和來客談著天，但并不忘了手中所應(yīng)做的事。他時(shí)時(shí)顧看爐火，等到水壺中漸發(fā)沸聲后，他就立在爐前不再離開，更加用力地扇火，還不時(shí)要揭開壺蓋望。那時(shí)壺底已有小泡，名為“魚眼”或“蟹沫”，這就是“初滾”。他重新蓋上壺蓋，再煽上幾扇，壺中的沸聲漸大，水面也漸起泡，這名為“二滾”。這時(shí)已有熱氣從壺口噴出來，主人也就格外注意。到將屆“三滾”，壺水已經(jīng)沸透之時(shí)，他就提起水壺，將小泥壺里外一澆，趕緊將茶葉加入泥壺，泡出茶來。這種茶如福建人所飲的“鐵觀音”，大都泡得很濃。小泥壺中只可容水四小杯，茶葉占去其三分之一的容隙。因?yàn)椴枞~加得很多，所以一泡之后即可倒出來喝了。這一道茶已將壺水用盡，于是再灌入涼水，放到爐上去煮，以供第二泡之用。嚴(yán)格地說起來，茶在第二泡時(shí)為最妙。第一泡譬如一個(gè)十二三歲的幼女，第二泡為年齡恰當(dāng)?shù)氖?，而第三泡則已是少婦了。照理論上說起來，鑒賞家認(rèn)第三泡的茶為不可復(fù)飲，但實(shí)際上，則享受這個(gè)“少婦”的人仍很多。

以上所說是我本鄉(xiāng)中一種泡茶方法的實(shí)際素描。這個(gè)藝術(shù)是中國的北方人所不曉的。在中國一般的人家中，所用的茶壺大都較大。至于一杯茶，最好的顏色是清中帶微黃，而不是英國茶那樣的深紅色。

我們所描寫的當(dāng)然是指鑒賞家的飲茶，而不是像店鋪中的以茶奉客。這種雅舉不是普通人所能辦到，也不是人來人往，論碗解渴的地方所能辦到。《茶蔬》的作者許次紓說得好：“賓朋雜沓，止堪交鐘觥籌；乍會(huì)泛交，僅須常品酬酢。惟素心同調(diào)，彼此暢適，清言雄辯，脫略形骸，始可呼童篝火，吸水點(diǎn)湯，量客多少，為役之煩簡?！倍恫杞狻纷髡咚f的就是此種情景：“山堂夜坐，汲泉煮茗。至水火相戰(zhàn)，如聽松濤。傾瀉入杯，云光滟瀲。此時(shí)幽趣，故難與俗人言矣?！?/p>

凡真正愛茶者，單是搖摩茶具，已經(jīng)自有其樂趣。蔡襄年老時(shí)已不能飲茶，但他每天必烹茶以自娛，即其一例。又有一個(gè)文士名叫周文甫，他每天自早至晚，必在規(guī)定的時(shí)刻自烹自飲六次。他極寶愛他的茶壺，死時(shí)甚至以壺為殉。

因此，茶的享受技術(shù)包括下列各節(jié)：第一，茶味嬌嫩，茶易敗壞，所以整治時(shí)，須十分清潔，須遠(yuǎn)離酒類香類一切有強(qiáng)味的事物，和身帶這類氣息的人；第二，茶葉須貯藏于冷燥之處，在潮濕的季節(jié)中，備用的茶葉須貯于小錫罐中，其余則另貯大罐，封固藏好，不取用時(shí)不可開啟，如若發(fā)霉，則須在文火上微烘，一面用扇子輕輕揮扇，以免茶葉變黃或變色；第三，烹茶的藝術(shù)一半在于擇水，山泉為上，河水次之，井水更次，水槽之水如來自堤堰，因?yàn)楸緦偕饺?，所以很可用得；第四，客不可多，且須文雅之人，方能鑒賞±壺之美；第五，茶的正色是清中帶微黃，這濃的紅茶即不能不另加牛奶、檸檬、薄荷或他物以調(diào)和其苦味；第六，好茶必有回味，大概在飲茶半分鐘后，當(dāng)其化學(xué)成分和津液發(fā)生作用時(shí)，即能覺出；第七，茶須現(xiàn)泡現(xiàn)飲，泡在壺中稍稍過候，即會(huì)失味；第八，泡茶必須用剛沸之水；第九，一切可以混雜真味的香料，須一概摒除，至多只可略加些桂皮或花，以合有些愛好者的口味而已；第十，茶味最上者，應(yīng)如嬰孩身上一般的帶著“奶花香”。

據(jù)《茶疏》之說，最宜于飲茶的時(shí)候和環(huán)境是這樣：

飲　時(shí)：

心手閑適　披詠疲倦　意緒棼亂　聽歌拍曲　歌罷曲終

杜門避事　鼓琴看畫　夜深共語　明窗凈幾　佳客小姬

訪友初歸　風(fēng)日晴和　輕陰微雨　小橋"舫　茂林修竹

荷亭避暑　小院焚香　酒闌人散　兒輩齋館　清幽寺觀

名泉怪石

宜　輟：

做事　觀劇　發(fā)書柬　大雨雪　長筵大席　閱卷帙

人事忙迫　及與上宜飲時(shí)相反事

?不宜用：

惡水　敞器　銅匙　銅銚　木桶　柴薪　麩炭　粗童　惡婢

不潔巾帨　各色果實(shí)香藥

不宜近：

陰屋　廚房　市喧　小兒啼　野性人　童奴相哄　酷熱齋舍

實(shí)戰(zhàn)提升

Practising & Exercise

導(dǎo)讀

林語堂（1895—1976），中國當(dāng)代著名學(xué)者、文學(xué)家、語言學(xué)家。他早年留學(xué)國外，回國后在北京大學(xué)等著名大學(xué)任教，1966年定居臺(tái)灣，一生著述頗豐。

本文選自《生活的藝術(shù)》。在該書中，林語堂通過對(duì)塵世與天國、靈與肉、個(gè)人與社會(huì)三種關(guān)系的深刻剖析，提出悠閑的生活必須具備三個(gè)條件：閑暇、悠閑的情感和不計(jì)個(gè)人得失。林語堂悠閑哲學(xué)思想對(duì)現(xiàn)代人類的生活產(chǎn)生了深遠(yuǎn)的影響。

核心單詞

studious [?stju?dj?s] adj. 勤奮好學(xué)的，用功的

secure [si?kju?] adj. 安心的，無憂慮的

stretch [stret?] v. 伸直；伸出；伸長

anticipate [?n?tisipeit] v. 預(yù)期，期望；預(yù)料

symphony [?simf?ni] n. 交響樂，交響曲

ostentation [??sten?tei??n] n. 虛飾；賣弄

pyjamas [pi??ɑ?m?z] n. （尤指男人的）睡衣褲

routine [ru??ti?n] n. 例行公事；日常工作；慣例

quantity [?kw?ntiti] n. 數(shù)量；分量

vulgar [?v?lg?(r)] adj. 粗俗的；下流的；粗魯?shù)?/p>

翻譯

The proper enjoyment of tobacco, drink and tea can only be developed in an atmosphere of leisure, friendship and sociability.

We will not discuss the right and wrong of other people and will be totally indifferent to worldly glory and wealth.