半个读书人

除了等待，还是等待。

除了忍耐，还是忍耐。

下午的时候Jasmine还向我抱怨，说要是老是这样的话就要搬了。我说别急，我再和无敌的默默沟通沟通。话音未落，等我爬上nkbbs的时候，就发现了默默已经把过滤规则给优化了，呵呵……

一位同學看了我的博客以后，問我是不是有南開情結。我回答不上來，自己確實沒有想過這個問題。所謂情結大約可以分為兩種，一是可以解開的，一是解不開的。如果我真的有南開情結的話，我好像就沒有嘗試著去解開它。

以前浪跡與南開BBS的時候，經常看到的一句話就是：我是愛南開的。那時候自己還是半個文學青年，看到這句話，心中莫名的涌起一陣感動。加上中學的時候超級崇拜周總理，所以一心想考入南開大學，也許這種感情就是所謂的理想吧。當然了，后來我沒有考上，要不然我弄個帳號也不會這么困難，尤其是在高校BBS大地震之后。我這個人有點牽著不走，打著倒退的脾氣，所以對費了不少勁兒得到的BBS發文權和博客南開的帳號倍加珍惜。——感謝默默——雖然我這里上網很慢，還經常掉線，時不時的還要被封IP。相對于南開的同學們，我的稱呼是“他”。有時候我也在想，對得不到的東西有沒有必要如此執著？本來嘛，我和南開一點關系都沒有，為啥非得在這里開博客呢？但是往往是執著的人能夠成功，比如說《阿甘正傳》中的阿甘。我長這么大還沒有成功過，因為我太容易放棄。

我常常和宿舍的哥們說我的命不好。其實現在想想，不是命不好，是不甘心。因為心中還有點夢想（這年頭有夢想的人比處男都少，太稀罕了）。南開的學術氛圍讓我覺得不錯，覺得安心。如果能在那里做學問應該是一件不錯的事情。

 
By Charles A. Beard
President of the Association, 1933

Annual address of the president of the American Historical Association, delivered at Urbana. December 28, 1933. From the American Historical Review, Volume 39, Issue 2, p. 219-231

History has been called a science, an art, an illustration of theology, a phase of philosophy, a branch of literature. It is none of these things, nor all of them combined. On the contrary, science, art, theology, and literature are themselves merely phases of history as past actuality and their particular forms at given periods and places are to be explained, if explained at all, by history as knowledge and thought. The philosopher, possessing little or no acquaintance with history, sometimes pretends to expound the inner secret of history, [ 1. For a beautiful example see the passages on America in the introduction to Hegel's Philosophy of History. ]1 but the historian turns upon him and expounds the secret of the philosopher, as far as it may be expounded at all, by placing him in relation to the movement of ideas and interests in which he stands or floats, by giving to his scheme of thought its appropriate relativity. So it is with systems of science, art, theology, and literature. All the light on these subjects that can be discovered by the human mind comes from history as past actuality.

What, then, is this manifestation of omniscience called history? It is, as Croce says, contemporary thought about the past. History as past actuality includes, to be sure, all that has been done, felt, and thought by human beings on this planet since humanity began its long career. History as record embraces the monuments, documents, and symbols which provide such knowledge as we have or can find respecting past actuality. But it is history as thought, not as actuality, record, or specific knowledge, that is really meant when the term history is used m its widest and most general significance. It is thought about past actuality, instructed and delimited by history as record and knowledge--record and knowledge authenticated by criticism and ordered with the help of the scientific method. This is the final, positive, inescapable definition. It contains all the exactness that is possible and all the bewildering problems inherent in the nature of thought and the relation of the thinker to the thing thought about.

Although this definition of history may appear, at first glance, distressing to those who have been writing lightly about "the science of history" and "the scientific method" in historical research and construction, it is in fact in accordance with the most profound contemporary thought about history, represented by Croce, Riezler, Karl Mannheim, Mueller-Armack, and Heussi, for example. It is in keeping also with the obvious and commonplace. Has it not been said for a century or more that each historian who writes history is a product of his age, and that his work reflects the spirit of the times, of a nation, race, group, class, or section? No contemporary student of history really believes that Bossuet, Gibbon, Mommsen, or Bancroft could be duplicated to-day. Every student of history knows that his colleagues have been influenced in their selection and ordering of materials by their biases, prejudices, beliefs, affections, general upbringing, and experience, particularly social and economic; and if he has a sense of propriety, to say nothing of humor, he applies the canon to himself, leaving no exceptions to the rule. The pallor of waning time, if not of death, rests upon the latest volume of history, fresh from the roaring press.

Why do we believe this to be true? The answer is that every written history--of a village, town, county, state, nation, race, group, class, idea, or the wide world--is a selection and arrangement of facts, of recorded fragments of past actuality. And the selection and arrangement of facts--a combined and complex intellectual operation--is an act of choice, conviction, and interpretation respecting values, is an act of thought. Facts, multitudinous and beyond calculation, are known, but they do not select themselves or force themselves automatically into any fixed scheme of arrangement in the mind of the historian. They are selected and ordered by him as he thinks. True enough, where the records pertaining to a small segment of history are few and presumably all known, the historian may produce a fragment having an aspect of completeness as, for example, some pieces by Fustel de Coulanges; but the completeness is one of documentation, not of history. True enough also, many historians are pleased to say of their writings that their facts are selected and ordered only with reference to inner necessities, but none who takes this position will allow the same exactitude and certainty to the works of others except when the predilections of the latter conform to his own pattern.

Contemporary thought about history, therefore, repudiates the conception dominant among the schoolmen during the latter part of the nineteenth century and the opening years of the twentieth century--the conception that it is possible to describe the past as it actually was, somewhat as the engineer describes a single machine. The formula itself was a passing phase of thought about the past. Its author, Ranke, a German conservative, writing after the storm and stress of the French Revolution, was weary of history written for, or permeated by, the purposes of revolutionary propaganda. He wanted peace. The ruling classes in Germany, with which he was affiliated, having secured a breathing spell in the settlement of 1815, wanted peace to consolidate their position. Written history that was cold, factual, and apparently undisturbed by the passions of the time served best the cause of those who did not want to be disturbed. Later the formula was fitted into the great conception of natural science--cold neutrality over against the materials and forces of the physical world. Truths of nature, ran the theory, are to be discovered by maintaining the most severe objectivity; therefore the truth of history may be revealed by the same spirit and method. The reasoning seemed perfect to those for whom it was satisfactory. But the movement of ideas and interests continued, and bondage to conservative and scientific thought was broken by criticism and events. As Croce and Heussi have demonstrated, so-called neutral or scientific history reached a crisis in its thought before the twentieth century had advanced far on the way.

This crisis in historical thought sprang from internal criticism--from conflicts of thought within historiography itself--and from the movement of history as actuality; for historians are always engaged, more or less, in thinking about their own work and are disturbed, like their fellow citizens, by crises and revolutions occurring in the world about them. As an outcome of this crisis in historiography, the assumption that the actuality of history is identical with or closely akin to that of the physical world, and the assumption that any historian can be a disembodied spirit as coldly neutral to human affairs as the engineer to an automobile have both been challenged and rejected. Thus, owing to internal criticism and the movement of external events, the Ranke formula of history has been discarded and laid away in the museum of antiquities. It has ceased to satisfy the human spirit in its historical needs. Once more, historians recognize formally the obvious, long known informally, namely, that any written history inevitably reflects the thought of the author in his time and cultural setting.

That this crisis in thought presents a digressing dilemma to many historians is beyond question. It is almost a confession of inexpiable sin to admit in academic circles that one is not a man of science working in a scientific manner with things open to deterministic and inexorable treatment, to admit that one is more or less a guesser in this vale of tears. But the only escape from the dust and storm of the present conflict, and from the hazards of taking thought, now before the historian, is silence or refuge in some minute particularity of history as actuality. He may edit documents, although there are perils in the choice of documents to be edited, and in any case the choice of documents will bear some reference to an interpretation of values and importance--subjective considerations. To avoid this difficulty, the historian may confine his attention to some very remote and microscopic area of time and place, such as the price of cotton in Alabama between 1850 and 1860, or the length of wigs in the reign of Charles II., on the pleasing but false assumption that he is really describing an isolated particularity as it actually was, an isolated area having no wide-reaching ramifications of relations. But even then the historian would be a strange creature if he never asked himself why he regarded these matters as worthy of his labor and love, or why society provides a living for him during his excursions and explorations.

The other alternative before the student of history as immense actuality is to face boldly, in the spirit of Cato's soliloquy, the wreck of matter and the crush of worlds--the dissolution of that solid assurance which rested on the formula bequeathed by Ranke and embroidered by a thousand hands during the intervening years. And when he confronts without avoidance contemporary thought about the nature of written history, what commands does he hear?

The supreme command is that he must cast off his servitude to the assumptions of natural science and return to his own subject matter. to history as actuality. The hour for this final declaration of independence has arrived: the contingency is here and thought resolves it. Natural science is only one small subdivision of history as actuality with which history as thought is concerned. Its dominance in the thought of the Western World for a brief period can be explained, if at all, by history; perhaps in part by reference to the great conflict that raged between the theologians and scientists after the dawn of the sixteenth century--an intellectual conflict associated with the economic conflict between landed aristocracies, lay and clerical, on the one side, and the rising bourgeois on the other.

The intellectual formulas borrowed from natural science, which have cramped and distorted the operations of history as thought, have taken two forms: physical and biological. The first of these rests upon what may be called, for convenience, the assumption of causation: everything that happens in the world of human affairs is determined by antecedent occurrences, and events of history are the illustrations or data of laws to be discovered, laws such as are found in hydraulics. It is true that no historian has ever been able to array the fullness of history as actuality in any such deterministic order; Karl Marx has gone further than any other. But under the hypothesis that it is possible, historians have been arranging events in neat little chains of causation which explain, to their satisfaction, why succeeding events happen; and they have attributed any shortcomings in result to the inadequacy of their known data, not to the falsity of the assumption on which they have been operating. Undiscouraged by their inability to bring all history within a single law, such as the law of gravitation, they have gone on working in the belief that the Newtonian trick will be turned some time, if the scientific method is applied long and rigorously enough and facts are heaped up high enough, as the succeeding grists of doctors of philosophy arc ground out by the universities, turned loose on "research projects", and amply supplied by funds.

Growing rightly suspicious of this procedure in physico-historiography, a number of historians, still bent on servitude to natural science, turned from physics to biology. The difficulties and failures involved in all efforts to arrange the occurrences of history in a neat system of historical mechanics were evident to them. But on the other side, the achievements of the Darwinians were impressive. If the totality of history could not be brought into a deterministic system without doing violence to historical knowledge, perhaps the biological analogy of the organism could be applied. And this was done, apparently without any realization of the fact that thinking by analogy is a form of primitive animism. So under the biological analogy, history was conceived as a succession of cultural organisms rising, growing, competing, and declining. To this fantastic morphological assumption Spengler chained his powerful mind. Thus freed from self-imposed slavery to physics, the historian passed to self-imposed subservience to biology. Painfully aware of the perplexities encountered as long as he stuck to his own business, the historian sought escape by employing the method and thought of others whose operations he did not understand and could not control, on the simple, almost childlike, faith that the biologic, if not the physicist, really knew what he was about and could furnish the clue to the mystery.

But the shadow of the organismic conception of history had scarcely fallen on the turbulent actuality of history when it was scrutinized by historians who were thinking in terms of their own subject as distinguished from the terms of a mere subdivision of history. By an inescapable demonstration Kurt Riezler has made it clear that the organismic theory of history is really the old determinism of physics covered with murky words. The rise, growth, competition, and decline of cultural organisms is meaningless unless fitted into some overarching hypothesis--either the hypothesis of the divine drama or the hypothesis of causation in the deterministic sense. Is each cultural organism in history, each national or racial culture, an isolated particularity governed by its own mystical or physical laws? Knowledge of history as actuality forbids any such conclusion. If, in sheer desperation, the historian clings to the biological analogy, which school is he to follow--the mechanistic or the vitalistic? In either case he is caught in the deterministic sequence, if he thinks long enough and hard enough.

Hence the fate of the scientific school of historiography turns finally upon the applicability of the deterministic sequence to the totality of history as actuality. Natural science in a strict sense, as distinguished from mere knowledge of facts, can discover system and law only where occurrences are in reality arranged objectively in deterministic sequences. It can describe these sequences and draw from them laws, so-called. From a given number of the occurrences in any such sequence, science can predict what will happen when the remainder appear.

With respect to certain areas of human occurrences, something akin to deterministic sequences is found by the historian, but the perdurance of any sequence depends upon the perdurance in time of surrounding circumstances which cannot be brought within any scheme of deterministic relevancies. Certainly all the occurrences of history as actuality cannot be so ordered; most of them are unknown and owing to the paucity of records must forever remain unknown.

If a science of history were achieved, it would, like the science of celestial mechanics, make possible the calculable prediction of the future in history. It would bring the totally of historical occurrences within a single field and reveal the unfolding future to its last end, including all the apparent choices made and to be made. It would be omniscience. The creator of it would possess the attributes ascribed by the theologians to God. The future once revealed, humanity would have nothing to do except to await its doom.

To state the case is to dispose of it. The occurrences of history--the unfolding of ideas and interests in time-motion--are not identical in nature with the data of physics, and hence in their totality they are beyond the reach of that necessary instrument of natural science--mathematics--which cannot assign meaningful values to the imponderables, immeasurables, and contingencies of history as actuality.

Having broken the tyranny of physics and biology, contemporary thought in historiography turns its engines of verification upon the formula of historical relativity--the formula that makes all written history merely relative to time and circumstance, a passing shadow, an illusion. Contemporary criticism shows that the apostle of relativity is destined to be destroyed by the child of his own brain. If all historical conceptions are merely relative to passing events, to transitory phases of ideas and interests, then the conception of relativity is itself relative. When absolutes in history are rejected the absolutism of relativity is also rejected. So we must inquire: To what spirit of the times, to the ideas and interests of what class, group, nation, race, or region does the conception of relativity correspond? As the actuality of history moves forward into the future, the conception of relativity will also pass, as previous conceptions and interpretations of events have passed. Hence, according to the very doctrine of relativity, the skeptic of relativity will disappear in due course, beneath the ever-tossing waves of changing relativities. If he does not suffer this fate soon, the apostle of relativity will surely be executed by his own logic. Every conception of history, he says, is relative to time and circumstances. But by his own reasoning he is then compelled to ask: To what are these particular times and circumstances relative? And he must go on with receding sets of times and circumstances until he confronts an absolute: the totality of history as actuality which embraces all times and circumstances and all relativities.

Contemporary historical thought is, accordingly, returning upon itself and its subject matter. The historian is casting off his servitude to physics and biology, as he formerly cast off the shackles of theology and its metaphysics. He likewise sees the doctrine of relativity crumble in the cold light of historical knowledge. When he accepts none of the assumptions made by theology, physics, and biology, as applied to history, when he passes out from under the fleeting shadow of relativity, he confronts the absolute in his field--the absolute totality of all historical occurrences past, present, and becoming to the end of all things. Then he finds it necessary to bring the occurrences of history as actuality under one or another of three broad conceptions.

The first is that history as total actuality is chaos, perhaps with little islands of congruous relativities floating on the surface, and that the human mind cannot bring them objectively into any all-embracing order or subjectively into any consistent system. The second is that history as actuality is a part of some order of nature and revolves in cycles eternally--spring, summer, autumn, and winter, democracy, aristocracy, and monarchy, or their variants, as imagined by Spengler. The third is that history as actuality is moving in some direction away from the low level of primitive beginnings, on an upward gradient toward a more ideal order--as imagined by Condorcet, Adam Smith, Karl Marx, or Herbert Spencer.

Abundant evidence can be marshaled, has been marshaled, in support of each of these conceptions of history as actuality, but all the available evidence will not fit any one of them. The hypothesis of chaos admits of no ordering at all; hence those who operate under it cannot write history, although they may comment on history. The second admits of an ordering of events only by arbitrarily leaving out of account all the contradictions in the evidence. The third admits of an ordering of events, also by leaving contradictions out of consideration. The historian who writes history, therefore, consciously or unconsciously performs an act of faith, as to order and movement, for certainty as to order and movement is denied to him by knowledge of the actuality with which he is concerned. He is thus in the position of a statesman dealing with public affairs; in writing he acts and in acting he makes choices, large or small, timid or bold, with respect to some conception of the nature of things. And the degree of his influence and immortality will depend upon the length and correctness of his forecast--upon the verdict of history yet to come. His faith is at bottom a conviction that something true can be known about the movement of history and his conviction is a subjective decision, not a purely objective discovery.

But members of the passing generation will ask: Has our work done in the scientific spirit been useless? Must we abandon the scientific method? The answer is an emphatic negative. During the past fifty years historical scholarship, carried on with judicial calm, has wrought achievements of value beyond calculation. Particular phases of history once dark and confused have been illuminated by research, authentication, scrutiny, and the ordering of immediate relevancies. Nor is the empirical or scientific method to be abandoned. It is the only method that can be employed in obtaining accurate knowledge of historical facts, personalities, situations, and movements. It alone can disclose conditions that made possible what happened. It has a value in itself--a value high in the hierarchy of values indispensable to the life of a democracy. The inquiring spirit of science, using the scientific method, is the chief safeguard against the tyranny of authority, bureaucracy, and brute power. It can reveal by investigation necessities and possibilities in any social scene and also offerings with respect to desirabilities to be achieved within the limits of the possible.

The scientific method is, therefore, a precious and indispensable instrument of the human mind; without it society would sink down into primitive animism and barbarism. It is when this method, a child of the human brain, is exalted into a master and a tyrant that historical thought must enter a caveat. So the historian is bound by his craft to recognize the nature and limitations of the scientific method and to dispel the illusion that it can produce a science of history embracing the fullness of history, or of any large phase, as past actuality.

This means no abandonment of the tireless inquiry into objective realities, especially economic realities and relations; not enough emphasis has been laid upon the conditioning and determining influences of biological and economic necessities or upon researches designed to disclose them in their deepest and widest ramifications. This means no abandonment of the inquiry into the forms and development of ideas as conditioning and determining influences; not enough emphasis has been laid on this phase of history by American scholars.

But the upshot to which this argument is directed is more fundamental than any aspect of historical method.It is that any selection and arrangement of facts pertaining to any large area of history, either local or world, race or class, is controlled inexorably by the frame of reference in the mind of the selector and arranger. This frame of reference includes things deemed necessary, things deemed possible, and things deemed desirable. It may be large, informed by deep knowledge, and illuminated by wide experience; or it may be small, uninformed, and unilluminated. It may be a grand conception of history or a mere aggregation of confusions. But it is there in the mind, inexorably. To borrow from Croce, when grand philosophy is ostentatiously put out at the front door of the mind, then narrow, class, provincial, and regional prejudices come in at the back door and dominate, perhaps only half-consciously, the thinking of the historian.

The supreme issue before the historian now is the determination of his attitude to the disclosures of contemporary thought. He may deliberately evade them for reasons pertaining to personal, economic, and intellectual comfort, thus joining the innumerable throng of those who might have been but were not. Or he may proceed to examine his own frame of reference, clarify it, enlarge it by acquiring knowledge of greater areas of thought and events, and give it consistency of structure by a deliberate conjecture respecting the nature or direction of the vast movements of ideas and interests called world history.

This operation will cause discomfort to individual historians but all, according to the vows of their office, are under obligation to perform it, as Henry Adams warned the members of this Association in his letter of 1894. And as Adams then said, it will have to be carried out under the scrutiny of four great tribunals for the suppression of unwelcome knowledge and opinion: the church, the state, property, and labor. Does the world move and, if so, in what direction? If he believes that the world does not move, the historian must offer the pessimism of chaos to the inquiring spirit of mankind. If it does move, does it move backward toward some old arrangement, let us say, of 1928, 1896, 1815, 1789, or 1295? Or does it move forward to some other arrangement which can be only dimly divined--a capitalist dictatorship, a proletarian dictatorship, or a collectivist democracy? The last of these is my own guess, founded on a study of long trends and on a faith in the indomitable spirit of mankind. In any case, if the historian cannot know or explain history as actuality, he helps to make history, petty or grand.

To sum up contemporary thought in historiography, any written history involves the selection of a topic and an arbitrary delimitation of its borders--cutting off connections with the universal. Within the borders arbitrarily established, there is a selection and organization of facts by the processes of thought. This selection and organization--a single act--will be controlled by the historian's frame of reference composed of things deemed necessary and of things deemed desirable. The frame may be a narrow class, sectional, national, or group conception of history, clear and frank or confused and half conscious, or it may be a large, generous conception, clarified by association with the great spirits of all ages. Whatever its nature the frame is inexorably there, in the mind. And in the frame only three broad conceptions of all history as actuality are possible. History is chaos and every attempt to interpret it otherwise is an illusion. History moves around in a kind of cycle. History moves in a line, straight or spiral, and in some direction. The historian may seek to escape these issues by silence or by a confession of avoidance or he may face them boldly, aware of the intellectual and moral perils inherent in any decision--in his act of faith.

Charles A. Beard (Nov. 27, 1874 to Sept. 1, 1948) was one of the most daring and innovative historians of his day. He received his PhD from Columbia in 1904, and taught there until 1917, before helping to establish the New School for Social Research. In works such as An Economic Interpretation of the Constitution of the United States (1913) and Economic Origins of Jeffersonian Democracy (1915), he stressed the part played by economic forces in the development of American institutions. With his wife, Mary Ritter Beard, he also co-authored the classic text book, The Rise of American Civilization (1927).

一直以来，是否存在真实的历史，都是个不断被争论的问题。虽然作者对此表示怀疑，我还是相信真实的历史是可以被重现的，只要我们足够努力。本来想把这篇文章翻译过来的，可是内容太多了，几万字可不是闹着玩的。

来源：美国历史学会 

博客南开不是MSN SPACES，更不是QQ空间。我觉得读品和纵横周刊的模式可以参考一下。在我看来，BLOG就是个人出版的平台，所以我同意在一个大的范围内坚持写作。对每位作者而言，坚持写作可以锻炼自己的思路、文笔，如果您足够幸运的话，在不断坚持的未来几年内，您还有可能成为某一方面的专家。对博客南开来说，对一方面的长期关注，可以使其逐渐具有一定的号召力，也能够慢慢的聚集一部分的人气。

是否要确立一个核心议题，我觉得不太好办。首先是目前坚持写博客的人不多，写的人多了，才能够汇成一条大河，才能够让人关注这条河流的流向。还有一个困难就是大家的专业背景不甚相同，写作习惯也有差异。所以我认为：目前要做的就是每个人都给自己一点点的压力，坚持不断地写下去。

博客的生命力在于内容，而非形式。默默提出的建立一种有编辑和筛选的联合供稿模式，我举双手赞成，并愿意长期供稿。博客南开目前持续更新的内容太少，不足以形成一个特色鲜明的特色——除了网站上方南开大学的光环。

希望我这块破砖能够引来大家的金玉良言。

东方不败为了实现天下第一的梦想，挥刀自宫。这基本上可以看作是一个笑话，或者寓言，因为所有理性的人都不会这么做的。即便不自宫，要想弄个天下第一也是很不容易的。看看那些武侠小说里，武功盖世而且最后成为武林盟主的英雄们，哪一个不是经历了种种非人的磨难？要么是覆巢完卵，要么是身患绝症，要么是受尽屈辱，好不容易武功修炼的差不多了，才发现他爱上了杀父仇人的女儿。不由得让人感叹，容易么我！

为了天下第一把自己的命根子丢了显然有些不值得，但是为了个人或者小团体的天下第一，牺牲损害别人的利益，这种事情倒是挺常见。全国最大的大学城，全国最贵的校门，全国最气派的政府大楼，全国最豪华的大剧院，全国最烧钱的什么什么……凡此种种，不一而足。在一个国家处于发展过程中的上升通道的时候，出现一些天下第一的形象工程也不是不行，至少它可以鼓舞士气，振奋民心，凝聚一下民族精神。但是如果上至天子，下至布衣都在搞这个，那就是一个大方向的问题了。拿着众多纳税人的钱来满足部分人大国勃起的意淫一样的理想，可以认为等同与强盗行为。

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咸丰十一年（1961）八月，咸丰帝病死。怡亲王载垣、郑亲王端华、户部尚书肃顺等八大臣总摄朝政，辅佐年仅六岁的皇太子载淳为帝。载淳的生母那拉氏发动政变，将肃顺诛杀，将载垣和端华赐死，其他五人或革职或充军。由于当时年仅四岁的悫善被过继给了奉国将军绵英，就寄居在将军府。庚子拳变后，北京局势不稳，悫善举家迁往保定。辛亥革命以后，悫善的生计出现问题，加之当时排满严重，就买了原先自家一个老庄户的汉姓，入了汉家宗祠。关于这些事情，载儒经常对子孙们讲的一句话就是：有金有银有玉这些财产，你要是要不住它，就会被它压死，读书才能压住家里的阵。

由于舒尔哈齐是被努尔哈赤害死的，所以，舒尔哈齐的后人对努尔哈赤的仇恨一代一代地传了好几百年。当然了，辛酉政变之后，端华在清朝的正史记载中逐渐淡出，走向了历史的边缘。

历史和历史书本来就不是一回事儿，但是我们这么多年以来学习的是历史书而不是历史。我找了一些关于努尔哈赤和舒尔哈齐的关系的文章，几乎是一边倒，舒尔哈齐被描绘成了一个贪婪、忘恩负义等集众多缺点于一身的人。呵呵，掩卷一笑，胜者书写的历史，就是这样。不过如此。

我不喜欢司马南，一点也不喜欢。他是个没有骨气的人。虽然早年曾被聘为ZZU的客座教授，但是个人认为，这个人基本上没有什么水平。那时候他来ZZU作报告的时候，对法〇功的事情谈的不是很多，倒是一个劲儿的给我们这些刚刚入校的毛头孩子上性教育课。即便是谈到了他和法〇功的一些斗争，也只是停留在一个江湖骗子和另外一个江湖骗子之间的水平。

我很尊重于丹，虽然我不会去买她的书。因为我宁愿去看朱熹的《四书集注》，我宁愿为了弄懂一句话思索半天。让一个高人告诉你一句话的意思是一件很没有面子的事情，我有能力自己解决这些问题。阅读是一种美好而又封闭的内心体验。读书人最自豪的一句话就是：我读过。在传播经典方面，于丹功不可没。因为曾经有一位见到文言文就头大的朋友兴冲冲的打电话和我聊“以德报怨”，并提出了他的观点。不管从专业的角度来讲他的想法是否幼稚，但是毕竟他开始思考这个问题了。

至于说那几个联名批评于丹的博士，实在是有点多此一举。要明确的一点是，于丹的书不是学术著作，就不能用学术著作的标准来批评她。金正昆常常说的一句话就是：和你划的不是一路拳。这样的批评基本上没有什么意义。你都是博士了，我的天呐，你就不会写一本更好的书来代替于丹？