来源：东方历史评论（微信公众号） | 韩石山 整理 刘洪涛 翻译 2019年12月12日08:23
July 12, 1921
Dear Mr. Ogden，
Sorry I cannot come on Tuesday. I am afraid we shall be ourselves in London on Thursday. Perhaps it would be better to postpone our meeting till next week. Shall write you again.
C. H. Hsu
Prince’s Cottage, Sawston
July 18, 1921
Dear Mr. Ogden:
I am sorry my friend Mr. Chang has left England and he regretted not having met you. The other Mr. Chang, the ‘advocate of professionalism’ too, has gone to the Continent. But both of them will come back and perhaps we shall be able to arrange a meeting later on. It would be very kind of you to come out one day to see us here at Sawston. I wonder if this Saturday would suit you.
With best wishes.
C. H. Hsu
P. S. I might come to Cambridge Saturday morning.
Excellent voyage， but heat’s getting more and more intolerable. You shall hear from me. Can you send me copy of Roger Fry’s Vision and Design (to Yeh Zah Chekiang, China)?
Best wishes to you and remember me to your Trio brotherhood.
7 Shih-Hu Hu-tung, Peking,
May 10, 1923.
Dear Mr. Ogden,
Well, Well! You can’t imagine a more disastrous correspondent, can you? And a more disappointing friend? What, a letter half a year overdue. But then, that’s just precisely the Chinese way. We are a nation of superb idlers. Haven’t you heard of a friendly game of Wei-chi lasting just a little over for teen〈fourteen〉 days, and acknowledgments of letters received couple of years ago? Don’t you see, to be punctual and so forth has never been in our habit. Besides, we can never see the necessity of making hastes of one thing on the other. So you may blame me for being a Chinese, but allowing my nationality, you can’t blame me for being lazy, can you?
Now, let’s come to business. There are three things requiring answer. First, as to Mr. Liang’s book on Chinese thought. It’s entirely my fault. The book has not only been prepared but also published (in Chinese) two months ago already. It doesn’t bear exactly the same title as you suggested it, it’s called History of Political Thought in China; but it amounts to the same thing as a history of general thought. Mr. Liang was exceedingly happy to know your design and suggestion, and wanted me to do the translation which I promised. But so far I have only done the introductory chapter and the book is of overwhelming quantity, no less than 350 pages in its English rendering I think. I might do a good deal in the summer if I can make up my mind for it. In any case, I personally consider the book a worthy contribution from the East and shouldn’t mind spending months over the translation myself. I am sending a copy to your shop, and when it reaches you might show it to Giles or Waley or both for opinion. Tell me what they say about it.
II. The book supply business. The former readers circle has disappeared and all the books it possessed are new property of the Library where I have my lodgings, namely, the above address. The Library is to be established in memory of the Hero of our Third Revolution and is named after him. It looks a promising under taking and, if things go well, we can have something like £500 to buy books every year. I shall see Mr. Liang to send you some money for further supplies; meantime you may send us books you think we ought to have. I expect to read your new book on Meaning especially.
III. I published your letter in two leading daily and I have met quite a few scholars who professed their interest in the subject but I am at a loss to discover anything of cogency and likely to meet your point. I think sent you a little book on Logic by Mr. Hu-Su about X’mas time, but in case it miscarry I am I sending another copy of the same. You might find something in it.
So much for business. You are doing very well with your publishing undertakings. I do envy your energy. Remember me to Richards and Wood. By the way, why don’t you wretched bachelors try to perform some matrimonial experiments one way or the other? The Chinese are ever contemptuous of male singles and cant bear to think of an old maid. I am going to write a long letter to Frank about myself. I shall ask him to let you read it if you are not to busy to listen to my insubstantial chats.
7 Shi-Huh Hutung,
Peking (West City)
Nov 15, 1923
At last the Celestial makes reply!
①Four packers of books (two to Mr. Tsang and two to myself) received. Direct later sendings to Sung-Po Library, 7 Shi-Huh Hutung, instead of Mr. Tsang’s old address which is no longer of use.
②About a month ago I sent you from Shanghai a cable gram asking you to secure Rivers’books about 50 pound. Not for the library. Send the books to this address if they are not yet sent to Mr. Caisun Chang, 37 Moulmin Road, Shanghai. Mr. Chang whom you met in Cambridge is now founding a College in the neighborhood of Shanghai, and he needs books on politics, sociology and philosophy.
Dr Hu-shih is coming to Peking in a few days. I have little doubt that he will be glad to have his book printed in England. I will write again after seeing him.
As to Mr. Liang’s book, I am dreadfully ashamed to you on the one hand and Mr. Liang himself on the other. I am not unwilling to undertake the translation but this means three months undivided attention, which I can’t well afford. Meanwhile I am contemplating another trip to Europe now that Siberia is restored to order. I shall write again soon.
Wishes to all my friends.
7 Shi-Huh Hutung,
Peking (West City)
Feb. 11, 1924
O! I am such a horrid slug! No excuse, no ingenuity, nothing of polite mendacity can ever camouflage my extreme laziness at correspondence, I should be surprised if my friends in England do not curse me for that. In fact I seldom do letters of any kind. I have outgrown, for instance, the romantic period of my boyhood which spends a good portion of its energy and time in producing sentimental epistles. Neither do I share the genius of a hausfrau to take delight in the small incidents of daily existence, fond of chatting like young birds and eager to communicate to the others their own extreme tedium. The truth is, my career in China has been jejune of interest to anybody, least of all to myself. I travel a bit, write a bit, talk (on platform and otherwise) a bit, mourn a bit (my old granny died last summer), sigh a bit, and the rest is perfect blank. The Cupid’s Arrow has refused me, perhaps once for all, visitations, and that accounts for the paralysis of my mental and spiritual faculties. The current events as well as the society itself are a positive bore to me, neither I fancy, do they see any attraction in me. The result is solitude on my part. I am now staying in a kind of villa in the suburb of my own town, sighing with wafts of wind in the neighboring forest, which by the way is my grand orchestra, and listening and talking to birds which are found here in great multitudes, especially the noisiest kind. The folk here call me half insane, or by way of irony, poet. This, of course, further stirs my secret vanity and encourages, in fact, my eccentricity. I am growing more and more uncouth in manner, more and more cynical in spirit, more and more quaint in expression-almost ghostly. Indeed, looking at the windows in any side here, you see nothing so conspicuous as the abodes of the dead-mounds, graves, exposed coffins, cemeteries, ancestor halls, monuments, tablets and what not. And this very building is said to be haunted. Then no wonder I am waxing almost ghostly.
You are already bored, I know. Things either poetic or ghostly oughtn’t be addressed to men of the world, and you are evidently a man of the world smitten as it were with the modern disease Fact-mania, who prefers substantial reality to dreams empty and hollow. I don’t blame, I admire. I wish I myself had something of that, so that I might stand more favoured and less enigmatic in my parents’ and others’ eye. But I have little hope, being as I am a sincere worshiper of your ethereal Bard of the skylark. Well!
Mr. Hu is delighted that you intend to print his book in England. He will send his revised MSS (manuscripts) soon, I believe. Probably he has replied to your letter himself.
The Indian poet Tagore is coming to China in April and I am expected to be with him during his short stay here, which will necessitate my giving up the bliss of solitude and launching into the busy things once more. I suspect Tagore has not earned great favour in Cambridge, but probably you won’t be so harsh as to call him humbug or wretched and horrid — such epithets being so current amidst your intelligentsia. He is incredibly popular with our youngsters, the chief explanation being that his poems are the only poems written in English which they could read with what they themselves regard perfect intelligence. His visit will therefore prove a great dramatic episode, exceeding by far his predecessors in popularity and enthusiasm accorded to them. The memory of Russell still lingers, the influence of Dewey is all but too perfect, Dreisch alone was a very dark horse, although his being the countryman of the paper works did not on that account cost us any the less. Tagore will have no salary. We simply furnish his traveling fare. Wallas and Roger Fry have disappointed us with their declining, explicitly or implicitly, our cordial invitation. Who else in England could you think of as being suitable to be exported to China for a short time after Tagore, who will not stay longer than 3 months?
Goldie and Arthur Waley woke me not long ago. Ramsey has been silent for some time, Sebastian scribbled once or twice, the rest is silence. I do yearn for Cambridge tidings. The very shape and scent of an English envelope thrills me, not to say the handwriting. Why Richards and Forbes never write, and Wood and Brathwaite? Then of course I never write to them myself, but do remember me to all of them and let them know that they will not find me destitute of gratitude if they ever deign to donate charities to me.
And lastly, important business! What about the 50 pound Rivers books that Mr. Chang wanted? His school address is 88 Avenue Road, Shanghai. I include you his complete address in Chinese so as to avoid miscarriage. Write me at once.
Remember me to Russells and tell me about them.