Who had brought this letter? It couldn't be the same person who had sent the birthday card to Hilde Moller Knag because that card had both a stamp and a postmark. The brown envelope had been delivered by hand to the mailbox exactly like the two white ones.
Sophie looked at her watch. It was a quarter to three. Her mother would not be home from work for over two hours.
Sophie crawled out into the garden again and ran to the mailbox. Perhaps there was another letter.
She found one more brown envelope with her name on it. This time she looked all around but there was nobody in sight. Sophie ran to the edge of the woods and looked down the path.
No one was there. Suddenly she thought she heard a twig snap deep in the woods. But she was not completely sure, and anyway it would be pointless to chase after someone who was determined to get away.
Sophie let herself into the house. She ran upstairs to her room and took out a big cookie tin full of pretty stones. She emptied the stones onto the floor and put both large envelopes into the tin. Then she hurried out into the garden again, holding the tin securely with both hands. Before she went she put some food out for Sherekan.
"Kitty, kitty, kitty!"
Once back in the den she opened the second brown envelope and drew out the new typewritten pages. She began to read.
A STRANGE CREATURE
Hello again! As you see, this short course in philosophy will come in handy-sized portions. Here are a few more introductory remarks:
Did I say that the only thing we require to be good philosophers is the faculty of wonder? If I did not, I say it now: THE ONLY THING WE REQUIRE TO BE GOOD PHILOSOPHERS IS THE FACULTY OF WONDER.
Babies have this faculty. That is not surprising. After a few short months in the womb they slip out into a brand-new reality. But as they grow up the faculty of wonder seems to diminish. Why is this? Do you know?
If a newborn baby could talk, it would probably say something about what an extraordinary world it had come into. We see how it looks around and reaches out in curiosity to everything it sees.
As words are gradually acquired, the child looks up and says "Bow-wow" every time it sees a dog. It jumps up and down in its stroller, waving its arms: "Bow-wow! Bow-wow!" We who are older and wiser may feel somewhat exhausted by the child's enthusiasm. "All right, all right, it's a bow-wow," we say, unimpressed. "Please sit still." We are not enthralled. We have seen a dog before.
This rapturous performance may repeat itself hundreds of times before the child learns to pass a dog without going crazy. Or an elephant, or a hippopotamus. But long before the child learns to talk properly--and Ion before it learns to think philosophically--the world we have become a habit.
A pity, if you ask me.
My concern is that you do not grow up to be one of those people who take the world for granted, Sophie dear. So just to make sure, we are going to do a couple of experiments in thought before we begin on the course itself.
Imagine that one day you are out for a walk in the woods. Suddenly you see a small spaceship on the path in front of you. A tiny Martian climbs out of the spaceship and stands on the ground looking up at you . . .
What would you think? Never mind, it's not important. But have you ever given any thought to the fact that you are a Martian yourself?
It is obviously unlikely that you will ever stumble upon a creature from another planet. We do not even know that there is life on other planets. But you might stumble upon yourself one day. You might suddenly stop short and see yourself in a completely new light. On just such a walk in the woods.
I am an extraordinary being, you think. I am a mysterious creature.
You feel as if you are waking from an enchanted slumber. Who am I? you ask. You know that you are stumbling around on a planet in the universe. But what is the universe?
If you discover yourself in this manner you will have discovered something as mysterious as the Martian we just mentioned. You will not only have seen a being from outer space. You will feel deep down that you are yourself an extraordinary being.
Do you follow me, Sophie? Let's do another experiment in thought:
One morning, Mom, Dad, and little Thomas, aged two or three, are having breakfast in the kitchen. After a while Mom gets up and goes over to the kitchen sink, and Dad--yes, Dad--flies up and floats around under the ceiling while Thomas sits watching. What do you think Thomas says? Perhaps he points up at his father and says: "Daddy's flying!" Thomas will certainly be astonished, but then he very often is. Dad does so many strange things that this business of a little flight over the breakfast table makes no difference to him. Every day Dad shaves with a funny machine, sometimes he climbs onto the roof and turns the TV aerial--or else he sticks his head under the hood of the car and comes up black in the face.
Now it's Mom's turn. She hears what Thomas says and turns around abruptly. How do you think she reacts to the sight of Dad floating nonchalantly over the kitchen table?
She drops the jam jar on the floor and screams with fright. She may even need medical attention once Dad has returned respectably to his chair. (He should have learned better table manners by now!) Why do you think Thomas and his mother react so differently?
It all has to do with habit. (Note this!) Mom has learned that people cannot fly. Thomas has not. He still isn't certain what you can and cannot do in this world.
But what about the world itself, Sophie? Do you think it can do what it does? The world is also floating in space.
Sadly it is not only the force of gravity we get used to as we grow up. The world itself becomes a habit in no time at all. It seems as if in the process of growing up we lose the ability to wonder about the world. And in doing so, we lose something central--something philosophers try to restore. For somewhere inside ourselves, something tells us that life is a huge mystery. This is something we once experienced, long before we learned to think the thought.
To be more precise: Although philosophical questions concern us all, we do not all become philosophers. For various reasons most people get so caught up in everyday affairs that their astonishment at the world gets pushed into the background. (They crawl deep into the rabbit's fur, snuggle down comfortably, and stay there for the rest of their lives.)
To children, the world and everything in it is new, something that gives rise to astonishment. It is not like that for adults. Most adults accept the world as a matter of course.
This is precisely where philosophers are a notable exception. A philosopher never gets quite used to the world. To him or her, the world continues to seem a bit unreasonable--bewildering, even enigmatic. Philosophers and small children thus have an important faculty in common. You might say that throughout his life a philosopher remains as thin-skinned as a child.
So now you must choose, Sophie. Are you a child who has not yet become world-weary? Or are you a philosopher who will vow never to become so?
If you just shake your head, not recognizing yourself as either a child or a philosopher, then you have gotten so used to the world that it no longer astonishes you. Watch out! You are on thin ice. And this is why you are receiving this course in philosophy, just in case. I will not allow you, of all people, to join the ranks of the apathetic and the indifferent. I want you to have an inquiring mind.
The whole course is free of charge, so you get no money back if you do not complete it. If you choose to break off the course you are free to do so. In that case you must leave a message for me in the mailbox. A live frog would be eminently suitable. Something green, at least, otherwise the mailman might get scared.
To summarize briefly: A white rabbit is pulled out of a top hat. Because it is an extremely large rabbit, the trick takes many billions of years. All mortals are born at the very tip of the rabbit's fine hairs, where they are in a position to wonder at the impossibility of the trick. But as they grow older they work themselves ever deeper into the fur. And there they stay. They become so comfortable they never risk crawling back up the fragile hairs again. Only philosophers embark on this perilous expedition to the outermost reaches of language and existence. Some of them fall off, but others cling on desperately and yell at the people nestling deep in the snug softness, stuffing themselves with delicious food and drink.
"Ladies and gentlemen," they yell, "we are floating in space!" But none of the people down there care.
"What a bunch of troublemakers!" they say. And they keep on chatting: Would you pass the butter, please? How much have our stocks risen today? What is the price of tomatoes? Have you heard that Princess Di is expecting again?
When Sophie's mother got home later that afternoon, Sophie was practically in shock. The tin containing the letters from the mysterious philosopher was safely hidden in the den. Sophie had tried to start her homework but could only sit thinking about what she had read.
She had never thought so hard before! She was no longer a child--but she wasn't really grown up either. Sophie realized that she had already begun to crawl down into the cozy rabbit's fur, the very same rabbit that had been pulled from the top hat of the universe. But the philosopher had stopped her. He--or was it a she?--had grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her up again to the tip of the fur where she had played as a child. And there, on the outermost tips of the fine hairs, she was once again seeing the world as if for the very first time.
The philosopher had rescued her. No doubt about it. The unknown letter writer had saved her from the triviality of everyday existence.
When Mom got home at five o'clock, Sophie dragged her into the living room and pushed her into an armchair.
"Mom--don't you think it's astonishing to be alive?" she began.
Her mother was so surprised that she didn't answer at first. Sophie was usually doing her homework when she got home.
"I suppose I do--sometimes," she said.
"Sometimes? Yes, but--don't you think it's astonishing that the world exists at all?"
"Now look, Sophie. Stop talking like that."
"Why? Perhaps you think the world is quite normal?"
"Well, isn't it? More or less, anyway."
Sophie saw that the philosopher was right. Grownups took the world for granted. They had let themselves be lulled into the enchanted sleep of their humdrum existence once and for all.
"You've just grown so used to the world that nothing surprises you any more."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about you getting so used to everything. Totally dim, in other words."
"I will not be spoken to like that, Sophie!"
"All right, I'll put it another way. You've made yourself comfortable deep down in the fur of a white rabbit that is being pulled out of the universe's top hat right now. And in a minute you'll put the potatoes on. Then you'll read the paper and after half an hour's nap you'll watch the news on TV!"
An anxious expression came over her mother's face. She did indeed go into the kitchen and put the potatoes on. After a while she came back into the living room, and this time it was she who pushed Sophie into an armchair.
"There's something I must talk to you about," she began. Sophie could tell by her voice that it was something serious.
"You haven't gotten yourself mixed up with drugs, have you, dear?"
Sophie was just about to laugh, but she understood why the question was being brought up now.
"Are you nuts?" she said. "That only makes you duller'."
No more was said that evening about either drugs or white rabbits.
魔术师的礼帽
只有一个条件：要有好奇心……
苏菲很肯定那位写匿名信的人会再度来信。她决定暂时不要将这件事告诉任何人。
如今，在学校上课时，她变得很难专心听课。他们所说的仿佛都是一些芝麻绿豆的事。他们为何不能谈一些诸如：“人是什么?”或“世界是什么，又何以会存在?”这类的事呢?她生平第一次开始觉得无论在学校或其他地方，人们关心的都只是一些芝麻琐事罢了。世上还有更重要的事有待解答，这些事比学校所上的任何科目都更重要。
世上有人可以解答这些问题吗?无论如何，苏菲觉得思索这些问题要比去死背那些不规则动词更加要紧。
最后一堂课的下课铃响起时，她飞快走出学校，快得乔安必须要跑步才能追上她。
过了一会儿，乔安说：“今天傍晚我们来玩牌好吗?”苏菲耸了耸肩：“我不像从前那么爱玩牌了。”乔安听了仿佛被雷击中一般。
“是吗?那我们来玩羽毛球好了。”苏菲垂下眼睛，看着人行道，而后抬起头看着乔安。
“我对羽毛球也不是很有兴趣了。”“你不是说真的吗?”苏菲察觉到乔安语气中的不满。
“你可不可以告诉我是什么事情突然变得那么重要?”苏菲摇摇头：“嗯……这是一个秘密。”“噢!你大概是谈恋爱了吧她们两个又走了一会儿，谁都没有说话。当她们走到足球场时，乔安说：“我要从斜坡这里走过去。”从斜坡走过去!没错，这是乔安回家最近的一条路，但她通常只有在家里有客人或必须赶到牙医那儿去的时候才从这儿走。
苏菲开始后悔她刚才对乔安的态度不佳。不过她又能对她说些什么呢?说她是因为突然忙着解答自己是谁以及世界从何而来等问题，所以才没有时间玩羽毛球吗?乔安会了解吗?。
这些都是世间最重要，也可以说是最自然的问题。但为何一心想着这些问题会如此累人?苏菲打开信箱时，感觉自己心跳加快。起先她只看到一封银行寄来的信以及几个写着妈妈名字的棕色大信封。该死!她居然开始疯狂地期待那个不知名的人再度来信。
当她关上园门时，发现有一个大信封上写着她的名字。她把它翻过来要拆信时，看到信封背面写着：“哲学课程。请小心轻放。”苏菲飞奔过石子路，将书包甩在台阶上，并将其他信塞在门前的脚垫下，然后跑进后面的园子里，躲进她的密洞。唯有在这里，她才能拆阅这个大信封。
雪儿也跟着跳进来。苏菲无可奈何，因为她知道雪儿是赶也赶不走的。
信封内有三张打好字的纸，用一个纸夹夹住。苏菲开始读信。
哲学是什么？亲爱的苏菲：人的嗜好各有不同。有些人搜集古钱或外国邮票刺绣，有些人则利用大部分的空间时间从事某种运动另外许多人以阅读为乐，但阅读的品位人各不同。有些人只看报纸或漫画，有些人喜欢看小说，有些人则偏好某些特殊题材的书籍，如天文学、自然生物或科技新知等。
如果我自己对马或宝石有兴趣，我也不能期望别人都和我一样。如果我看电视体育节目看得津津有味，就必须忍受有些人认为体育节目很无聊的事实。
可是，天底下是不是没有一件事是我们大家都感兴趣的呢?是不是没有一件事是每一个人都关切的--无论他们是谁或住在何处?是的，亲爱的苏菲，天底下当然有一些问题是每个人都有兴趣的。而这门课程正与这些问题有关。
生命中最重要的事情是什么?如果我们问某一个正生活在饥饿边缘的人，他的答案一定是“食物”。如果我们问一个快要冻死的人，答案一定是“温暖”。如果我们拿同样的问题问一个寂寞孤独的人，那答案可能是“他人的陪伴”了。
然而，当这些基本需求都获得满足后，是否还有些东西是每一个人都需要的呢?哲学家认为，答案是肯定的。他们相信人不能只靠面包过日子。当然，每一个人都需要食物，每一个人都需要爱与关怀。不过除了这些以外，还有一些东西是人人需要的，那就是：明白我们是谁、为何会在这里。
想知道我们为何会在这儿，并不像集邮一样是一种休闲式的兴趣。
那些对这类问题有兴趣的人所要探讨的，乃是自地球有人类以来，人们就辩论不休的问题：宇宙、地球与生命是如何产生的?这个问题比去年奥运会谁得到最多的金牌要更大，也更重要。
探讨哲学最好的方式就是问一些哲学性的问题，如：这世界是如何创造出来的?其背后是否有某种意志或意义?人死后还有生命吗?我们如何能够解答这些问题呢?最重要的是，我们应该如何生活?千百年来，人们不断提出这些问题。据我们所知，没有一种文化不关心“人是谁”、“世界从何而来”这样的问题。
基本上，我们要问的哲学问题并不多。我们刚才已经提出了其中最重要的问题。然而，在历史上，人们对每一个问题提出了不同的答案。因此，提出哲学问题要比回答这些问题更容易。
即使是在今天，每个人仍然必须各自寻求他对这些问题的答案。你无法在百科全书查到有关“上帝是否存在?”与“人死后是否还有生命?”这些问题的答案。百科全书也不会告诉我们应该如何生活。不过，读一读别人的意见倒可以帮助我们建立自己对生命的看法。
哲学家追寻真理的过程很像是一部侦探小说。有人认为安单森是凶手，有人则认为尼尔森或詹生才是。遇到犯罪案件，警方有时可以侦破，但也很可能永远无法查出真相(虽然在某个地方一定有一个破案的办法)。因此，即使要回答一个问题很不容易，但无论如何总会有一个(且仅此一个)正确答案的。人死后要不就是透过某种形式存在，要不就是根本不再存在。
过去许多千百年的谜题如今都有了科学的解释。从前，月亮黑暗的那一面可说是神秘莫测。由于这不是那种可以借讨论来解决的问题，因此当时月亮的真实面目如何全凭个人想象。然而今天我们已经确知月亮黑暗的那一面是何模样。没有人会再“相信”嫦娥的存在或月亮是由绿色的乳酪做成等等说法了。
两千多年前，一位古希腊哲学家认为，哲学之所以产生是因为人有好奇心的缘故。他相信，人对于活着这件事非常惊讶，因此自然而然就提出了一些哲学性的问题。
这就像我们看人家变魔术一样。由于我们不明白其中的奥妙，于是便问道：“魔术师如何能将两三条白色的丝巾变成一只活生生的兔子呢?”许多人对于这世界的种种也同样有不可置信的感觉，就像我们看到魔术师突然从一顶原本空空如也的帽子里拉出一只兔子一般。
关于突然变出兔子的事，我们知道这不过是魔术师耍的把戏罢了。我们只是想知道他如何办到而已。然而，谈到有关世界的事时，情况便有些不同了。我们知道这世界不全然是魔术师妙手一挥、掩人耳目的把戏，因为我们就生活在其中，我们是它的一部分。
事实上，我们就是那只被人从帽子里拉出来的小白兔。我们与小白兔之间唯一的不同是：小白兔并不明白它本身参与了一场魔术表演。我们则相反。我们觉得自己是某种神秘事物的一部分，我们想了解其中的奥秘。
