English Original
One fine afternoon, I was walking along Fifth Avenue when I remembered I needed to buy a pair of socks. I turned into the first sock shop that caught my eye. A young clerk, no more than seventeen, approached.
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"I wish to buy a pair of socks."
His eyes lit up, and his voice carried a note of passion. "Did you know you've come to the finest place in the world to buy socks?" I hadn't, as my entrance was accidental. "Come with me," he said ecstatically.
I followed him to the rear of the shop. He began pulling down box after box from the shelves, displaying their contents for my delight.
"Hold on, lad, I'm only going to buy one pair!"
"I know," he replied, "but I want you to see how marvelously beautiful these are. Aren't they wonderful?" His face wore an expression of solemn, holy rapture, as if revealing the mysteries of his faith.
I became far more interested in him than in the socks. I looked at him in amazement. "My friend," I said, "if you can keep this up—if this isn't just the enthusiasm of a new job—if you can maintain this zeal day after day, in ten years you will own every sock in the United States."
My astonishment at his pride and joy in salesmanship will be easily understood. In many shops, customers wait to be served. When a clerk finally deigns to notice you, you feel like an interruption. He is either absorbed in thought or chatting with a colleague, making you feel intrusive.
He shows no interest in you or the goods he sells. Yet that same apathetic clerk likely began his career with hope and enthusiasm. The daily grind wore him down; the novelty faded. He found pleasure only outside work, becoming a mechanical, uninspired salesman. This led to incompetence. Seeing younger, more zealous colleagues promoted over him, he grew sour—his usefulness over.
I have observed this melancholy decline in many occupations and concluded that the surest road to failure is to do things mechanically. Many teachers seem duller than their dullest pupils, going through the motions as impersonally as a telephone.
中文翻译
一个晴朗的下午，我走在第五大道上，忽然想起需要买一双袜子。我拐进了映入眼帘的第一家袜子店。一个看起来不超过十七岁的年轻店员走了过来。
“先生，有什么可以帮您？”
“我想买一双袜子。”
他的眼睛亮了起来，声音里带着一股热情。“您知道您来到了世界上最好的地方买袜子吗？”我并不知道，我只是偶然走进来的。“跟我来，”他狂喜地说道。
我跟着他走到商店后面。他开始从架子上搬下一个又一个盒子，向我展示里面的袜子，让我赏心悦目。
“等等，小伙子，我只打算买一双！”
“我知道，”他回答，“但我想让您看看这些袜子有多么不可思议的美丽。它们难道不奇妙吗？”他脸上带着一种庄严而神圣的狂喜表情，仿佛在向我揭示他信仰的奥秘。
我对他比对袜子产生了更大的兴趣。我惊讶地看着他。“我的朋友，”我说，“如果你能保持这种状态——如果这不只是一份新工作带来的热情——如果你能日复一日地保持这份热忱，十年后，你将拥有全美国的袜子。”
我对他销售工作中表现出的自豪与快乐的惊讶，所有读者都会理解。在许多商店，顾客不得不等待服务。当终于有店员屈尊注意到你时，你会觉得自己打扰了他。他不是沉浸在讨厌被打扰的深思中，就是在和女同事嬉戏，让你觉得闯入这种亲密场合需要道歉。
他对你或他受雇销售的商品都毫无兴趣。然而，那个如今如此冷漠的店员，很可能也是满怀希望和热情开始职业生涯的。日常的苦差事让他不堪重负；新鲜感消失了；他唯一的乐趣只在工作时间之外。他变成了一个机械的、没有灵感的销售员。变得机械之后，他又变得无能；接着，他看到对工作更有热情的年轻店员晋升到他之上。他变得尖酸刻薄。那是最后阶段。他的用处结束了。
我在许多行业许多人的生活中都观察到了这种可悲的衰退，因此我得出了一个结论：走向失败最可靠的道路就是机械地做事。学校和大学里有许多老师似乎比他们最迟钝的学生还要无趣；他们只是在走过场式地教学，冷漠得像一部电话。