LESSON 30

WAR

战 争

Charles Sumner, 1811-1874, was born in Boston. He studied at the Latin school in his native city, graduated from Harvard University at the age of nineteen, studied law at the same institution, and was admitted to practice in 1834. He at once took a prominent position in his profession, lectured to the law classes at Cambridge for several successive years, wrote and edited several standard law books, and might have had a professorship in the law school, had he desired it. In his famous address on “The True Grandeur of Nations,” delivered July 4, 1845, before the municipal authorities of Boston, he took strong grounds against war among nations. In 1851 he was elected to the United States Senate and continued in that position till his death. As a jurist, as a statesman, as an orator, and as a profound and scholarly writer, Mr. Sumner stands high in the estimation of his countrymen. In physical appearance, Mr. Sumner was grand and imposing; men often turned to gaze after him, as he passed along the streets of his native city.

I need not dwell now on the waste and cruelty of war. These stare us wildly in the face, like lurid meteor lights, as we travel the page of history. We see the desolation and death that pursue its demoniac footsteps. We look upon sacked towns, upon ravaged territories, upon violated homes; we behold all the sweet charities of life changed to wormwood and gall. Our soul is penetrated by the sharp moan of mothers, sisters, and daughters—of fathers, brothers, and sons, who, in the bitterness of their bereavement, refuse to be comforted. Our eyes rest at last upon one of these fair fields, where Nature, in her abundance, spreads her cloth of gold, spacious and apt for the entertainment of mighty multitudes—or, perhaps, from the curious subtlety of its position, like the carpet in the Arabian tale, seeming to contract so as to be covered by a few only, or to dilate so as to receive an innumerable host. Here, under a bright sun, such as shone at Austerlitz or Buena Vista—amidst the peaceful harmonies of nature—on the Sabbath of peace—we behold bands of brothers, children of a common Father, heirs to a common happiness, struggling together in the deadly fight, with the madness of fallen spirits, seeking with murderous weapons the lives of brothers who have never injured them or their kindred. The havoc rages. The ground is soaked with their commingling blood. The air is rent by their commingling cries. Horse and rider are stretched together on the earth. More revolting than the mangled victims, than the gashed limbs, than the lifeless trunks, than the spattering brains, are the lawless passions which sweep, tempest-like, through the fiendish tumult.

Horror-struck, we ask, wherefore this hateful contest? The melancholy, but truthful answer comes, that this is the established method of determining justice between nations!

The scene changes. Far away on the distant pathway of the ocean two ships approach each other, with white canvas broadly spread to receive the flying gales. They are proudly built. All of human art has been lavished in their graceful proportions, and in their well compacted sides, while they look in their dimensions like floating happy islands on the sea. A numerous crew, with costly appliances of comfort, hives in their secure shelter. Surely these two travelers shall meet in joy and friendship; the flag at the masthead shall give the signal of friendship; the happy sailors shall cluster in the rigging, and even on the yardarms, to look each other in the face, while the exhilarating voices of both crews shall mingle in accents of gladness uncontrollable. It is not so. Not as brothers, not as friends, not as wayfarers of the common ocean, do they come together; but as enemies.

The gentle vessels now bristle fiercely with death-dealing instruments. On their spacious decks, aloft on all their masts, flashes the deadly musketry. From their sides spout cataracts of flame, amidst the pealing thunders of a fatal artillery. They, who had escaped “the dreadful touch of merchant-marring rocks”—who had sped on their long and solitary way unharmed by wind or wave—whom the hurricane had spared—in whose favor storms and seas had intermitted their immitigable war—now at last fall by the hand of each other. The same spectacle of horror greets us from both ships. On their decks, reddened with blood, the murderers of St. Bartholomew and of the Sicilian Vespers, with the fires of Smithfield, seem to break forth anew, and to concentrate their rage. Each has now become a swimming Golgotha. At length, these vessels—such pageants of the sea—once so stately—so proudly built—but now rudely shattered by cannon balls—with shivered masts and ragged sails—exist only as unmanageable wrecks, weltering on the uncertain waves, whose temporary lull of peace is now their only safety. In amazement at this strange, unnatural contest—away from country and home—where there is no country or home to defend—we ask again, wherefore this dismal duel? Again the melancholy but truthful answer promptly comes, that this is the established method of determining justice between nations.

【中文阅读】

现在，我无需详述战争的损耗和残忍。当我们在历史长河中驻足时，这些景象就像流星耀眼的光芒一样，粗暴地映在我们脸上。我们曾目睹为了留下恶魔般的足迹而带来的破坏和死亡。我们凝望被洗劫一空的城镇，被蹂躏劫掠的疆土，还有被侵犯的家园。我们见证了生活中所有温馨的善举变成苦恼和怨恨；我们的灵魂被那些母亲们、姐妹们和女儿们凄厉的哀鸣深深刺痛了——这是因为父亲们，兄弟们和儿子们的惨死，处于丧亲之痛的他们和她们拒绝别人的安慰。我们的目光最终停留在那些相当不错的土地中一块，在那里大自然物产十分丰裕，摊开她那宽敞的金色外衣，恰好为神气活现的芸芸众生带来欢娱——也许从她所处位置的奇妙的差别来看，就像阿拉伯传说中的地毯，似乎可以缩小到只能允许几个人站在上边，或者膨胀到可以接待难以计数的宾客。这里，在明亮的太阳下面，就像奥斯特里茨或者布埃纳维斯塔的骄阳一样——在大自然安宁的和谐氛围中——在宁静的安息日——我们注视将属于一个父亲的兄弟们、孩子们连在一起的纽带，他们继承了共同的幸福，一起进行殊死的抗争，凭借对堕落精神的疯狂，他们用杀人武器要了兄弟们的性命，而这些人从来没有伤害他们或者他们的亲属。这场惨绝人寰的大破坏还将猛烈地肆虐下去。血流漂杵。空气中弥漫着他们撕心裂肺的哀鸣。到处都是战马和骑手。比面目全非的死者，伤痕累累的残肢，没有生命迹象的躯体和到处飞溅的脑浆更令人厌恶的是，像暴风雨一样在极度混乱中蔓延的无法无天的狂热。

我们被大屠杀场面震撼了，不禁要问这场令人憎恨的纷争为什么会发生呢？悲哀但确实的答案就是，这竟然是国家之间做出公平裁决的约定俗成的方式！

场景改变了。在遥远的大洋航线上，两艘船彼此靠近，都迎风将白色的船帆展开。这两艘造得都富丽堂皇。船身优雅的比例和结实的船体无不体现了人类的巧夺天工，看上去就像在海上漂浮着的纵浪欢腾的小岛。船上有很多船员，配有价值不菲的舒适装置，在安全的遮蔽处藏身。可以肯定的是，这两艘船上的旅行者相遇时应该非常高兴，共话友情。桅顶上的旗子会发出友好的信号。兴高采烈的水手会在索具旁，甚至在桁端上簇拥到一起，彼此打量着，双方全体船员的欢呼声与难以抑制的喜悦汇成一片。可是，事实不是这样。他们不像兄弟，不像朋友，也不像在共同的海域航行的旅人，他们只是作为相互的敌人走到一起的。

这两艘本来彬彬有礼的船，现在开始用致人死命的工具发出凶猛的攻击。在宽敞的甲板上，在船桅的高处，致命的火器闪烁着火光。在大炮的雷鸣声中从船的两侧喷出火舌。本来已经逃过“岩礁致命接触”一劫的他们，本来已经在风浪伴随下安然度过漫长而孤寂的航程的他们，飓风也没能奈何了的他们，最终却在彼此手中魂归天外。两条船迎接我们的是同样骇人的景象。甲板被鲜血染红了，圣巴尔托洛繆和西西里晚祷大屠杀的刽子手手上拎着史密斯菲尔德火枪，似乎要重新上演一场人间血案，将他们的狂怒集中到一起。现在，每条船都成了在水上漂着的墓地。最终，这些船——海上奇观——曾经那样庄严肃穆，如此巧夺天工的杰作，现在被炮弹炸得粉碎，卷起的船桅和破布一般的船帆，仅剩难以控制的破坏，在吉凶难测的波浪上颠簸摇晃。暂时的这段平静现在成了他们唯一的凭靠。这场奇异和不自然的搏斗带给人们莫大的惊异——远离故土和家园——在这里没有国家和家园需要守卫。我们不禁再一次发问，为什么会有这场凄凉的决斗令人伤感但切中事实的答案马上就能得出，那就是这是确定国家之间司法权约定俗成的方式。