the mirror of the sea-第35章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！




forefathers　and　by　the　artlessness　of　his　heart；　he　was　made　fit　to



deliver　this　excellent　discourse。　　There　was　nothing　wanting　in　its



orderly　arrangement　…　neither　piety　nor　faith；　nor　the　tribute　of



praise　due　to　the　worthy　dead；　with　the　edifying　recital　of　their



achievement。　　She　had　lived；　he　had　loved　her；　she　had　suffered；



and　he　was　glad　she　was　at　rest。　　It　was　an　excellent　discourse。



And　it　was　orthodox；　too；　in　its　fidelity　to　the　cardinal　article



of　a　seaman's　faith；　of　which　it　was　a　single…minded　confession。



〃Ships　are　all　right。〃　　They　are。　　They　who　live　with　the　sea　have



got　to　hold　by　that　creed　first　and　last；　and　it　came　to　me；　as　I



glanced　at　him　sideways；　that　some　men　were　not　altogether　unworthy



in　honour　and　conscience　to　pronounce　the　funereal　eulogium　of　a



ship's　constancy　in　life　and　death。







After　this；　sitting　by　my　side　with　his　loosely…clasped　hands



hanging　between　his　knees；　he　uttered　no　word；　made　no　movement



till　the　shadow　of　our　ship's　sails　fell　on　the　boat；　when；　at　the



loud　cheer　greeting　the　return　of　the　victors　with　their　prize；　he



lifted　up　his　troubled　face　with　a　faint　smile　of　pathetic



indulgence。　　This　smile　of　the　worthy　descendant　of　the　most



ancient　sea…folk　whose　audacity　and　hardihood　had　left　no　trace　of



greatness　and　glory　upon　the　waters；　completed　the　cycle　of　my



initiation。　　There　was　an　infinite　depth　of　hereditary　wisdom　in



its　pitying　sadness。　　It　made　the　hearty　bursts　of　cheering　sound



like　a　childish　noise　of　triumph。　　Our　crew　shouted　with　immense



confidence　…　honest　souls！　　As　if　anybody　could　ever　make　sure　of



having　prevailed　against　the　sea；　which　has　betrayed　so　many　ships



of　great　〃name；〃　so　many　proud　men；　so　many　towering　ambitions　of



fame；　power；　wealth；　greatness！







As　I　brought　the　boat　under　the　falls　my　captain；　in　high　good…



humour；　leaned　over；　spreading　his　red　and　freckled　elbows　on　the



rail；　and　called　down　to　me　sarcastically；　out　of　the　depths　of　his



cynic　philosopher's　beard：







〃So　you　have　brought　the　boat　back　after　all；　have　you？〃







Sarcasm　was　〃his　way；〃　and　the　most　that　can　be　said　for　it　is　that



it　was　natural。　　This　did　not　make　it　lovable。　　But　it　is　decorous



and　expedient　to　fall　in　with　one's　commander's　way。　　〃Yes。　　I



brought　the　boat　back　all　right；　sir；〃　I　answered。　　And　the　good



man　believed　me。　　It　was　not　for　him　to　discern　upon　me　the　marks



of　my　recent　initiation。　　And　yet　I　was　not　exactly　the　same



youngster　who　had　taken　the　boat　away　…　all　impatience　for　a　race



against　death；　with　the　prize　of　nine　men's　lives　at　the　end。







Already　I　looked　with　other　eyes　upon　the　sea。　　I　knew　it　capable



of　betraying　the　generous　ardour　of　youth　as　implacably　as；



indifferent　to　evil　and　good；　it　would　have　betrayed　the　basest



greed　or　the　noblest　heroism。　　My　conception　of　its　magnanimous



greatness　was　gone。　　And　I　looked　upon　the　true　sea　…　the　sea　that



plays　with　men　till　their　hearts　are　broken；　and　wears　stout　ships



to　death。　　Nothing　can　touch　the　brooding　bitterness　of　its　heart。



Open　to　all　and　faithful　to　none；　it　exercises　its　fascination　for



the　undoing　of　the　best。　　To　love　it　is　not　well。　　It　knows　no　bond



of　plighted　troth；　no　fidelity　to　misfortune；　to　long



companionship；　to　long　devotion。　　The　promise　it　holds　out



perpetually　is　very　great；　but　the　only　secret　of　its　possession　is



strength；　strength　…　the　jealous；　sleepless　strength　of　a　man



guarding　a　coveted　treasure　within　his　gates。















XXXVII。















The　cradle　of　oversea　traffic　and　of　the　art　of　naval　combats；　the



Mediterranean；　apart　from　all　the　associations　of　adventure　and



glory；　the　common　heritage　of　all　mankind；　makes　a　tender　appeal　to



a　seaman。　　It　has　sheltered　the　infancy　of　his　craft。　　He　looks



upon　it　as　a　man　may　look　at　a　vast　nursery　in　an　old；　old　mansion



where　innumerable　generations　of　his　own　people　have　learned　to



walk。　　I　say　his　own　people　because；　in　a　sense；　all　sailors　belong



to　one　family：　　all　are　descended　from　that　adventurous　and　shaggy



ancestor　who；　bestriding　a　shapeless　log　and　paddling　with　a



crooked　branch；　accomplished　the　first　coasting…trip　in　a　sheltered



bay　ringing　with　the　admiring　howls　of　his　tribe。　　It　is　a　matter



of　regret　that　all　those　brothers　in　craft　and　feeling；　whose



generations　have　learned　to　walk　a　ship's　deck　in　that　nursery；



have　been　also　more　than　once　fiercely　engaged　in　cutting　each



other's　throats　there。　　But　life；　apparently；　has　such　exigencies。



Without　human　propensity　to　murder　and　other　sorts　of



unrighteousness　there　would　have　been　no　historical　heroism。　　It　is



a　consoling　reflection。　　And　then；　if　one　examines　impartially　the



deeds　of　violence；　they　appear　of　but　small　consequence。　　From



Salamis　to　Actium；　through　Lepanto　and　the　Nile　to　the　naval



massacre　of　Navarino；　not　to　mention　other　armed　encounters　of



lesser　interest；　all　the　blood　heroically　spilt　into　the



Mediterranean　has　not　stained　with　a　single　trail　of　purple　the



deep　azure　of　its　classic　waters。







Of　course；　it　may　be　argued　that　battles　have　shaped　the　destiny　of



mankind。　　The　question　whether　they　have　shaped　it　well　would



remain　open；　however。　　But　it　would　be　hardly　worth　discussing。　　It



is　very　probable　that；　had　the　Battle　of　Salamis　never　been　fought；



the　face　of　the　world　would　have　been　much　as　we　behold　it　now；



fashioned　by　the　mediocre　inspiration　and　the　short…sighted　labours



of　men。　　From　a　long　and　miserable　experience　of　suffering；



injustice；　disgrace　and　aggression　the　nations　of　the　earth　are



mostly　swayed　by　fear　…　fear　of　the　sort　that　a　little　cheap



oratory　turns　easily　to　rage；　hate；　and　violence。　　Innocent；



guileless　fear　has　been　the　cause　of　many　wars。　　Not；　of　course；



the　fear　of　war　itself；　which；　in　the　evolution　of　sentiments　and



ideas；　has　come　to　be　regarded　at　last　as　a　half…mystic　and



glorious　ceremony　with　certain　fashionable　rites　and　preliminary



incantations；　wherein　the　conception　of　its　true　nature　has　been



lost。　　To　apprehend　the　true　aspect；　force；　and　morality　of　war　as



a　natural　function　of　mankind　one　requires　a　feather　in　the　hair



and　a　ring　in　the　nose；　or；　better　still；　teeth　filed　to　a　point



and　a　tattooed　breast。　　Unfortunately；　a　return　to　such　simple



ornamentation　is　impossible。　　We　are　bound　to　the　chariot　of



progress。　　There　is　no　going　back；　and；　as　bad　luck　would　have　it；



our　civilization；　which　has　done　so　much　for　the　comfort　and



adornment　of　our　bodies　and　the　elevation　of　our　minds；　has　made



lawful　killing　frightfully　and　needlessly　expensive。







The　whole　question　of　improved　armaments　has　been　approached　by　the



governments　of　the　earth　in　a　spirit　of　nervous　and　unreflecting



haste；　whereas　the　right　way　was　lying　plainly　before　them；　and　had



only　to　be　pursued　with　calm　determination。　　The　learned　vigils　and



labours　of　a　certain　class　of　inventors　should　have　been　rewarded



with　honourable　liberality　as　justice　demanded；　and　the　bodies　of



the　inventors　should　have　been　blown　to　pieces　by　means　of　their



own　perfected　explosives　and　improved　weapons　with　extreme



publicity　as　the　commonest　prudence　dictated。　　By　this　method　the



ardour　of　research　in　that　direction　would　have　been　restrained



without　infringing　the　sacred　privileges　of　science。　　For　the　lack



of　a　little　cool　thinking　in　our　guides　and　masters　this　course　has



not　been　followed；　and　a　beautiful　simplicity　has　been　sacrificed



for　no　real　advantage。　　A　frugal　mind　cannot　defend　itself　from



considerable　bitterness　when　reflecting　that　at　the　Battle　of



Actium　（which　was　fought　for　no　less　a　stake　than　the　dominion　of



the　world）　the　fleet　of　Octavianus　Caesar　and　the　fleet　of



A