Who, never looking forward, are indeed
Mere1 clay, wherein the footprints of their age
Are petrified2 for ever.”
I received a letter the other day. It was from a man in Arizona. It began, “Dear Comrade.” It ended, “Yours for the Revolution.” I replied to the letter, and my letter began, “Dear Comrade.” It ended, “Yours for the Revolution.” In the United States there are 400,000 men, of men and women nearly 1,000,000, who begin their letters “Dear Comrade,” and end them “Yours for the Revolution.” In Germany there are 3,000,000 men who begin their letters “Dear Comrade” and end them “Yours for the Revolution”; in France, 1,000,000 men; in Austria, 800,000 men; in Belgium, 300,000 men; in Italy, 250,000 men; in England, 100,000 men; in Switzerland, 100,000 men; in Denmark, 55,000 men; in Sweden, 50,000 men; in Holland, 40,000 men; in Spain, 30,000 men — comrades all, and revolutionists.
These are numbers which dwarf3 the grand armies of Napoleon and Xerxes. But they are numbers not of conquest and maintenance of the established order, but of conquest and revolution. They compose, when the roll is called, an army of 7,000,000 men, who, in accordance with the conditions of to-day, are fighting with all their might for the conquest of the wealth of the world and for the complete overthrow4 of existing society.
There has never been anything like this revolution in the history of the world. There is nothing analogous5 between it and the American Revolution or the French Revolution. It is unique, colossal6. Other revolutions compare with it as asteroids7 compare with the sun. It is alone of its kind, the first world-revolution in a world whose history is replete8 with revolutions. And not only this, for it is the first organized movement of men to become a world movement, limited only by the limits of the planet.
This revolution is unlike all other revolutions in many respects. It is not sporadic9. It is not a flame of popular discontent, arising in a day and dying down in a day. It is older than the present generation. It has a history and traditions, and a martyr-roll only less extensive possibly than the martyr-roll of Christianity. It has also a literature a myriad10 times more imposing11, scientific, and scholarly than the literature of any previous revolution.
They call themselves “comrades,” these men, comrades in the socialist12 revolution. Nor is the word empty and meaningless, coined of mere lip service. It knits men together as brothers, as men should be knit together who stand shoulder to shoulder under the red banner of revolt. This red banner, by the way, symbolizes14 the brotherhood15 of man, and does not symbolize13 the incendiarism that instantly connects itself with the red banner in the affrighted bourgeois16 mind. The comradeship of the revolutionists is alive and warm. It passes over geographical17 lines, transcends18 race prejudice, and has even proved itself mightier19 than the Fourth of July, spread-eagle Americanism of our forefathers20. The French socialist working-men and the German socialist working-men forget Alsace and Lorraine, and, when war threatens, pass resolutions declaring that as working-men and comrades they have no quarrel with each other. Only the other day, when Japan and Russia sprang at each other’s throats, the revolutionists of Japan addressed the following message to the revolutionists of Russia: “Dear Comrades — Your government and ours have recently plunged21 into war to carry out their imperialistic22 tendencies, but for us socialists23 there are no boundaries, race, country, or nationality. We are comrades, brothers, and sisters, and have no reason to fight. Your enemies are not the Japanese people, but our militarism and so-called patriotism24. Patriotism and militarism are our mutual25 enemies.”
In January 1905, throughout the United States the socialists held mass-meetings to express their sympathy for their struggling comrades, the revolutionists of Russia, and, more to the point, to furnish the sinews of war by collecting money and cabling it to the Russian leaders. The fact of this call for money, and the ready response, and the very wording of the call, make a striking and practical demonstration26 of the international solidarity27 of this world-revolution:
“Whatever may be the immediate28 results of the present revolt in Russia, the socialist propaganda in that country has received from it an impetus29 unparalleled in the history of modern class wars. The heroic battle for freedom is being fought almost exclusively by the Russian working-class under the intellectual leadership of Russian socialists, thus once more demonstrating the fact that the class-conscious working-men have become the vanguard of all liberating30 movements of modern times.”
Here are 7,000,000 comrades in an organized, international, world-wide, revolutionary movement. Here is a tremendous human force. It must be reckoned with. Here is power. And here is romance — romance so colossal that it seems to be beyond the ken31 of ordinary mortals. These revolutionists are swayed by great passion. They have a keen sense of personal right, much of reverence32 for humanity, but little reverence, if any at all, for the rule of the dead. They refuse to be ruled by the dead. To the bourgeois mind their unbelief in the dominant33 conventions of the established order is startling. They laugh to scorn the sweet ideals and dear moralities of bourgeois society. They intend to destroy bourgeois society with most of its sweet ideals and dear moralities, and chiefest among these are those that group themselves under such heads as private ownership of capital, survival of the fittest, and patriotism — even patriotism.
Such an army of revolution, 7,000,000 strong, is a thing to make rulers and ruling classes pause and consider. The cry of this army is, “No quarter! We want all that you possess. We will be content with nothing less than all that you possess. We want in our hands the reins34 of power and the destiny of mankind. Here are our hands. They are strong hands. We are going to take your governments, your palaces, and all your purpled ease away from you, and in that day you shall work for your bread even as the peasant in the field or the starved and runty clerk in your metropolises35. Here are our hands. They are strong hands.”
Well may rulers and ruling classes pause and consider. This is revolution. And, further, these 7,000,000 men are not an army on paper. Their fighting strength in the field is 7,000,000. To-day they cast 7,000,000 votes in the civilized36 countries of the world.
Yesterday they were not so strong. To-morrow they will be still stronger. And they are fighters. They love peace. They are unafraid of war. They intend nothing less than to destroy existing capitalist society and to take possession of the whole world. If the law of the land permits, they fight for this end peaceably, at the ballot-box. If the law of the land does not permit, and if they have force meted37 out to them, they resort to force themselves. They meet violence with violence. Their hands are strong and they are unafraid. In Russia, for instance, there is no suffrage38. The government executes the revolutionists. The revolutionists kill the officers of the government. The revolutionists meet legal murder with assassination39.
Now here arises a particularly significant phase which it would be well for the rulers to consider. Let me make it concrete. I am a revolutionist. Yet I am a fairly sane40 and normal individual. I speak, and I think, of these assassins in Russia as “my comrades.” So do all the comrades in America, and all the 7,000,000 comrades in the world. Of what worth an organized, international, revolutionary movement if our comrades are not backed up the world over! The worth is shown by the fact that we do back up the assassinations41 by our comrades in Russia. They are not disciples42 of Tolstoy, nor are we. We are revolutionists.
Our comrades in Russia have formed what they call “The Fighting Organization.” This Fighting Organization accused, tried, found guilty, and condemned43 to death, one Sipiaguin, Minister of Interior. On April 2 he was shot and killed in the Maryinsky Palace. Two years later the Fighting Organization condemned to death and executed another Minister of Interior, Von Plehve. Having done so, it issued a document, dated July 29, 1904, setting forth44 the counts of its indictment45 of Von Plehve and its responsibility for the assassination. Now, and to the point, this document was sent out to the socialists of the world, and by them was published everywhere in the magazines and newspapers. The point is, not that the socialists of the world were unafraid to do it, not that they dared to do it, but that they did it as a matter of routine, giving publication to what may be called an official document of the international revolutionary movement.
These are high lights upon the revolution — granted, but they are also facts. And they are given to the rulers and the ruling classes, not in bravado46, not to frighten them, but for them to consider more deeply the spirit and nature of this world-revolution. The time has come for the revolution to demand consideration. It has fastened upon every civilized country in the world. As fast as a country becomes civilized, the revolution fastens upon it. With the introduction of the machine into Japan, socialism was introduced. Socialism marched into the Philippines shoulder to shoulder with the American soldiers. The echoes of the last gun had scarcely died away when socialist locals were forming in Cuba and Porto Rico. Vastly more significant is the fact that of all the countries the revolution has fastened upon, on not one has it relaxed its grip. On the contrary, on every country its grip closes tighter year by year. As an active movement it began obscurely over a generation ago. In 1867, its voting strength in the world was 30,000. By 1871 its vote had increased to 1,000,000. Not till 1884 did it pass the half-million point. By 1889 it had passed the million point, it had then gained momentum47. In 1892 the socialist vote of the world was 1,798,391; in 1893, 2,585,898; in 1895, 3,033,718; in 1898, 4,515,591; in 1902, 5,253,054; in 1903, 6,285,374; and in the year of our Lord 1905 it passed the seven-million mark.
Nor has this flame of revolution left the United States untouched. In 1888 there were only 2,068 socialist votes. In 1902 there were 127,713 socialist votes. And in 1904 435,040 socialist votes were cast. What fanned this flame? Not hard times. The first four years of the twentieth century were considered prosperous years, yet in that time more than 300,000 men added themselves to the ranks of the revolutionists, flinging their defiance48 in the teeth of bourgeois society and taking their stand under the blood-red banner. In the state of the writer, California, one man in twelve is an avowed49 and registered revolutionist.
One thing must be clearly understood. This is no spontaneous and vague uprising of a large mass of discontented and miserable50 people — a blind and instinctive51 recoil52 from hurt. On the contrary, the propaganda is intellectual; the movement is based upon economic necessity and is in line with social evolution; while the miserable people have not yet revolted. The revolutionist is no starved and diseased slave in the shambles53 at the bottom of the social pit, but is, in the main, a hearty54, well-fed working-man, who sees the shambles waiting for him and his children and recoils55 from the descent. The very miserable people are too helpless to help themselves. But they are being helped, and the day is not far distant when their numbers will go to swell56 the ranks of the revolutionists.
Another thing must be clearly understood. In spite of the fact that middle-class men and professional men are interested in the movement, it is nevertheless a distinctly working-class revolt. The world over, it is a working-class revolt. The workers of the world, as a class, are fighting the capitalists of the world, as a class. The so-called great middle class is a growing anomaly in the social struggle. It is a perishing class (wily statisticians to the contrary), and its historic mission of buffer57 between the capitalist and working-classes has just about been fulfilled. Little remains58 for it but to wail59 as it passes into oblivion, as it has already begun to wail in accents Populistic and Jeffersonian–Democratic. The fight is on. The revolution is here now, and it is the world’s workers that are in revolt.
Naturally the question arises: Why is this so? No mere whim60 of the spirit can give rise to a world-revolution. Whim does not conduce to unanimity61. There must be a deep-seated cause to make 7,000,000 men of the one mind, to make them cast off allegiance to the bourgeois gods and lose faith in so fine a thing as patriotism. There are many counts of the indictment which the revolutionists bring against the capitalist class, but for present use only one need be stated, and it is a count to which capital has never replied and can never reply.
The capitalist class has managed society, and its management has failed. And not only has it failed in its management, but it has failed deplorably, ignobly62, horribly. The capitalist class had an opportunity such as was vouchsafed63 no previous ruling class in the history of the world. It broke away from the rule of the old feudal64 aristocracy and made modern society. It mastered matter, organized the machinery65 of life, and made possible a wonderful era for mankind, wherein no creature should cry aloud because it had not enough to eat, and wherein for every child there would be opportunity for education, for intellectual and spiritual uplift. Matter being mastered, and the machinery of life organized, all this was possible. Here was the chance, God-given, and the capitalist class failed. It was blind and greedy. It prattled67 sweet ideals and dear moralities, rubbed its eyes not once, nor ceased one whit68 in its greediness, and smashed down in a failure as tremendous only as was the opportunity it had ignored.
But all this is like so much cobwebs to the bourgeois mind. As it was blind in the past, it is blind now and cannot see nor understand. Well, then, let the indictment be stated more definitely, in terms sharp and unmistakable. In the first place, consider the caveman. He was a very simple creature. His head slanted69 back like an orang-outang’s, and he had but little more intelligence. He lived in a hostile environment, the prey70 of all manner of fierce life. He had no inventions nor artifices71. His natural efficiency for food-getting was, say, 1. He did not even till the soil. With his natural efficiency of 1, he fought off his carnivorous enemies and got himself food and shelter. He must have done all this, else he would not have multiplied and spread over the earth and sent his progeny72 down, generation by generation, to become even you and me.
The caveman, with his natural efficiency of 1, got enough to eat most of the time, and no caveman went hungry all the time. Also, he lived a healthy, open-air life, loafed and rested himself, and found plenty of time in which to exercise his imagination and invent gods. That is to say, he did not have to work all his waking moments in order to get enough to eat. The child of the caveman (and this is true of the children of all savage73 peoples) had a childhood, and by that is meant a happy childhood of play and development.
And now, how fares modern man? Consider the United States, the most prosperous and most enlightened country of the world. In the United States there are 10,000,000 people living in poverty. By poverty is meant that condition in life in which, through lack of food and adequate shelter, the mere standard of working efficiency cannot be maintained. In the United States there are 10,000,000 people who have not enough to eat. In the United States, because they have not enough to eat, there are 10,000,000 people who cannot keep the ordinary 1 measure of strength in their bodies. This means that these 10,000,000 people are perishing, are dying, body and soul, slowly, because they have not enough to eat. All over this broad, prosperous, enlightened land, are men, women, and children who are living miserably74. In all the great cities, where they are segregated75 in slum ghettos by hundreds of thousands and by millions, their misery76 becomes beastliness. No caveman ever starved as chronically77 as they starve, ever slept as vilely78 as they sleep, ever festered with rottenness and disease as they fester, nor ever toiled80 as hard and for as long hours as they toil79.
In Chicago there is a woman who toiled sixty hours per week. She was a garment worker. She sewed buttons on clothes. Among the Italian garment workers of Chicago, the average weekly wage of the dressmakers is 90 cents, but they work every week in the year. The average weekly wage of the pants finishers is $1.31, and the average number of weeks employed in the year is 27.85. The average yearly earnings81 of the dressmakers is $37; of the pants finishers, $42.41. Such wages means no childhood for the children, beastliness of living, and starvation for all.
Unlike the caveman, modern man cannot get food and shelter whenever he feels like working for it. Modern man has first to find the work, and in this he is often unsuccessful. Then misery becomes acute. This acute misery is chronicled daily in the newspapers. Let several of the countless82 instances be cited.
In New York City lived a woman, Mary Mead83. She had three children: Mary, one year old; Johanna, two years old; Alice, four years old. Her husband could find no work. They starved. They were evicted84 from their shelter at 160 Steuben Street. Mary Mead strangled her baby, Mary, one year old; strangled Alice, four years old; failed to strangle Johanna, two years old, and then herself took poison. Said the father to the police: “Constant poverty had driven my wife insane. We lived at No. 160 Steuben Street until a week ago, when we were dispossessed. I could get no work. I could not even make enough to put food into our mouths. The babies grew ill and weak. My wife cried nearly all the time.”
“So overwhelmed is the Department of Charities with tens of thousands of applications from men out of work that it finds itself unable to cope with the situation.”—New York Commercial, January 11, 1905.
In a daily paper, because he cannot get work in order to get something to eat, modern man advertises as follows:
“Young man, good education, unable to obtain employment, will sell to physician and bacteriologist for experimental purposes all right and title to his body. Address for price, box 3466, Examiner.”
“Frank A. Mallin went to the central police station Wednesday night and asked to be locked up on a charge of vagrancy85. He said he had been conducting an unsuccessful search for work for so long that he was sure he must be a vagrant86. In any event, he was so hungry he must be fed. Police Judge Graham sentenced him to ninety days’ imprisonment87.”—San Francisco Examiner.
In a room at the Soto House, 32 Fourth Street, San Francisco, was found the body of W. G. Robbins. He had turned on the gas. Also was found his diary, from which the following extracts are made
“March 3. — No chance of getting anything here. What will I do?
“March 7. — Cannot find anything yet.
“March 8. — Am living on doughnuts at five cents a day.
“March 9. — My last quarter gone for room rent.
“March 10. — God help me. Have only five cents left. Can get nothing to do. What next? Starvation or —? I have spent my last nickel to-night. What shall I do? Shall it be steal, beg, or die? I have never stolen, begged, or starved in all my fifty years of life, but now I am on the brink89 — death seems the only refuge.
“March 11. — Sick all day — burning fever this afternoon. Had nothing to eat to-day or since yesterday noon. My head, my head. Good-bye, all.”
How fares the child of modern man in this most prosperous of lands? In the city of New York 50,000 children go hungry to school every morning. From the same city on January 12, a press despatch90 was sent out over the country of a case reported by Dr. A. E. Daniel, of the New York Infirmary for Women and Children. The case was that of a babe, eighteen months old, who earned by its labour fifty cents per week in a tenement91 sweat-shop.
“On a pile of rags in a room bare of furniture and freezing cold, Mrs. Mary Gallin, dead from starvation, with an emaciated92 baby four months old crying at her breast, was found this morning at 513 Myrtle Avenue, Brooklyn, by Policeman McConnon of the Flushing Avenue Station. Huddled93 together for warmth in another part of the room were the father, James Gallin, and three children ranging from two to eight years of age. The children gazed at the policeman much as ravenous94 animals might have done. They were famished95, and there was not a vestige96 of food in their comfortless home.”—New York Journal, January 2, 1902.
In the United States 80,000 children are toiling97 out their lives in the textile mills alone. In the South they work twelve-hour shifts. They never see the day. Those on the night shift are asleep when the sun pours its life and warmth over the world, while those on the day shift are at the machines before dawn and return to their miserable dens98, called “homes,” after dark. Many receive no more than ten cents a day. There are babies who work for five and six cents a day. Those who work on the night shift are often kept awake by having cold water dashed in their faces. There are children six years of age who have already to their credit eleven months’ work on the night shift. When they become sick, and are unable to rise from their beds to go to work, there are men employed to go on horseback from house to house, and cajole and bully99 them into arising and going to work. Ten per cent of them contract active consumption. All are puny100 wrecks101, distorted, stunted102, mind and body. Elbert Hubbard says of the child-labourers of the Southern cotton-mills:
“I thought to lift one of the little toilers to ascertain103 his weight. Straightaway through his thirty-five pounds of skin and bones there ran a tremor104 of fear, and he struggled forward to tie a broken thread. I attracted his attention by a touch, and offered him a silver dime105. He looked at me dumbly from a face that might have belonged to a man of sixty, so furrowed106, tightly drawn107, and full of pain it was. He did not reach for the money — he did not know what it was. There were dozens of such children in this particular mill. A physician who was with me said that they would all be dead probably in two years, and their places filled by others — there were plenty more. Pneumonia108 carries off most of them. Their systems are ripe for disease, and when it comes there is no rebound109 — no response. Medicine simply does not act — nature is whipped, beaten, discouraged, and the child sinks into a stupor110 and dies.”
So fares modern man and the child of modern man in the United States, most prosperous and enlightened of all countries on earth. It must be remembered that the instances given are instances only, but they can be multiplied myriads111 of times. It must also be remembered that what is true of the United States is true of all the civilized world. Such misery was not true of the caveman. Then what has happened? Has the hostile environment of the caveman grown more hostile for his descendants? Has the caveman’s natural efficiency of 1 for food-getting and shelter-getting diminished in modern man to one-half or one-quarter?
On the contrary, the hostile environment of the caveman has been destroyed. For modern man it no longer exists. All carnivorous enemies, the daily menace of the younger world, have been killed off. Many of the species of prey have become extinct. Here and there, in secluded112 portions of the world, still linger a few of man’s fiercer enemies. But they are far from being a menace to mankind. Modern man, when he wants recreation and change, goes to the secluded portions of the world for a hunt. Also, in idle moments, he wails113 regretfully at the passing of the “big game,” which he knows in the not distant future will disappear from the earth.
Nor since the day of the caveman has man’s efficiency for food-getting and shelter-getting diminished. It has increased a thousandfold. Since the day of the caveman, matter has been mastered. The secrets of matter have been discovered. Its laws have been formulated114. Wonderful artifices have been made, and marvellous inventions, all tending to increase tremendously man’s natural efficiency of in every food-getting, shelter-getting exertion115, in farming, mining, manufacturing, transportation, and communication.
From the caveman to the hand-workers of three generations ago, the increase in efficiency for food- and shelter-getting has been very great. But in this day, by machinery, the efficiency of the hand-worker of three generations ago has in turn been increased many times. Formerly116 it required 200 hours of human labour to place 100 tons of ore on a railroad car. To-day, aided by machinery, but two hours of human labour is required to do the same task. The United States Bureau of Labour is responsible for the following table, showing the comparatively recent increase in man’s food- and shelter-getting efficiency:
Machine Hours Hand Hours
Barley117 (100 bushels) 9 211
Corn (50 bushels shelled, stalks, husks and blades cut into fodder) 34 228
Oats (160 bushels) 28 265
Wheat (50 bushels) 7 160
Loading ore (loading 100 tons iron ore on cars) 2 200
Unloading coal (transferring 200 tons from canal-boats to bins88 400 feet distant) 20 240
Pitchforks (50 pitchforks, 12-inch tines) 12 200
Plough (one landside plough, oak beams and handles) 3 118
According to the same authority, under the best conditions for organization in farming, labour can produce 20 bushels of wheat for 66 cents, or 1 bushel for 3.5 cents. This was done on a bonanza118 farm of 10,000 acres in California, and was the average cost of the whole product of the farm. Mr. Carroll D. Wright says that to-day 4,500,000 men, aided by machinery, turn out a product that would require the labour of 40,000,000 men if produced by hand. Professor Herzog, of Austria, says that 5,000,000 people with the machinery of to-day, employed at socially useful labour, would be able to supply a population of 20,000,000 people with all the necessaries and small luxuries of life by working 1.5 hours per day.
This being so, matter being mastered, man’s efficiency for food- and shelter-getting being increased a thousandfold over the efficiency of the caveman, then why is it that millions of modern men live more miserably than lived the caveman? This is the question the revolutionist asks, and he asks it of the managing class, the capitalist class. The capitalist class does not answer it. The capitalist class cannot answer it.
If modern man’s food- and shelter-getting efficiency is a thousandfold greater than that of the caveman, why, then, are there 10,000,000 people in the United States to-day who are not properly sheltered and properly fed? If the child of the caveman did not have to work, why, then, to-day, in the United States, are 80,000 children working out their lives in the textile factories alone? If the child of the caveman did not have to work, why, then, to-day, in the United States, are there 1,752,187 child-labourers?
It is a true count in the indictment. The capitalist class has mismanaged, is to-day mismanaging. In New York City 50,000 children go hungry to school, and in New York City there are 1,320 millionaires. The point, however, is not that the mass of mankind is miserable because of the wealth the capitalist class has taken to itself. Far from it. The point really is that the mass of mankind is miserable, not for want of the wealth taken by the capitalist class, but for want of the wealth that was never created. This wealth was never created because the capitalist class managed too wastefully120 and irrationally121. The capitalist class, blind and greedy, grasping madly, has not only not made the best of its management, but made the worst of it. It is a management prodigiously122 wasteful119. This point cannot be emphasized too strongly.
In face of the facts that modern man lives more wretchedly than the caveman, and that modern man’s food- and shelter-getting efficiency is a thousandfold greater than the caveman’s, no other solution is possible than that the management is prodigiously wasteful.
With the natural resources of the world, the machinery already invented, a rational organization of production and distribution, and an equally rational elimination123 of waste, the able-bodied workers would not have to labour more than two or three hours per day to feed everybody, clothe everybody, house everybody, educate everybody, and give a fair measure of little luxuries to everybody. There would be no more material want and wretchedness, no more children toiling out their lives, no more men and women and babes living like beasts and dying like beasts. Not only would matter be mastered, but the machine would be mastered. In such a day incentive124 would be finer and nobler than the incentive of to-day, which is the incentive of the stomach. No man, woman, or child, would be impelled125 to action by an empty stomach. On the contrary, they would be impelled to action as a child in a spelling match is impelled to action, as boys and girls at games, as scientists formulating126 law, as inventors applying law, as artists and sculptors127 painting canvases and shaping clay, as poets and statesmen serving humanity by singing and by statecraft. The spiritual, intellectual, and artistic128 uplift consequent upon such a condition of society would be tremendous. All the human world would surge upward in a mighty129 wave.
This was the opportunity vouchsafed the capitalist class. Less blindness on its part, less greediness, and a rational management, were all that was necessary. A wonderful era was possible for the human race. But the capitalist class failed. It made a shambles of civilization. Nor can the capitalist class plead not guilty. It knew of the opportunity. Its wise men told of the opportunity, its scholars and its scientists told it of the opportunity. All that they said is there to-day in the books, just so much damning evidence against it. It would not listen. It was too greedy. It rose up (as it rises up to-day), shamelessly, in our legislative130 halls, and declared that profits were impossible without the toil of children and babes. It lulled131 its conscience to sleep with prattle66 of sweet ideals and dear moralities, and allowed the suffering and misery of mankind to continue and to increase, in short, the capitalist class failed to take advantage of the opportunity.
But the opportunity is still here. The capitalist class has been tried and found wanting. Remains the working-class to see what it can do with the opportunity. “But the working-class is incapable,” says the capitalist class. “What do you know about it?” the working-class replies. “Because you have failed is no reason that we shall fail. Furthermore, we are going to have a try at it, anyway. Seven millions of us say so. And what have you to say to that?”
And what can the capitalist class say? Grant the incapacity of the working-class. Grant that the indictment and the argument of the revolutionists are all wrong. The 7,000,000 revolutionists remain. Their existence is a fact. Their belief in their capacity, and in their indictment and their argument, is a fact. Their constant growth is a fact. Their intention to destroy present-day society is a fact, as is also their intention to take possession of the world with all its wealth and machinery and governments. Moreover, it is a fact that the working-class is vastly larger than the capitalist class.
The revolution is a revolution of the working-class. How can the capitalist class, in the minority, stem this tide of revolution? What has it to offer? What does it offer? Employers’ associations, injunctions, civil suits for plundering132 of the treasuries133 of the labour-unions, clamour and combination for the open shop, bitter and shameless opposition134 to the eight-hour day, strong efforts to defeat all reform, child-labour bills, graft135 in every municipal council, strong lobbies and bribery136 in every legislature for the purchase of capitalist legislation, bayonets, machine-guns, policemen’s clubs, professional strike-breakers and armed Pinkertons — these are the things the capitalist class is dumping in front of the tide of revolution, as though, forsooth, to hold it back.
The capitalist class is as blind to-day to the menace of the revolution as it was blind in the past to its own God-given opportunity. It cannot see how precarious137 is its position, cannot comprehend the power and the portent138 of the revolution. It goes on its placid139 way, prattling140 sweet ideals and dear moralities, and scrambling141 sordidly142 for material benefits.
No overthrown143 ruler or class in the past ever considered the revolution that overthrew144 it, and so with the capitalist class of to-day. Instead of compromising, instead of lengthening145 its lease of life by conciliation147 and by removal of some of the harsher oppressions of the working-class, it antagonizes the working-class, drives the working-class into revolution. Every broken strike in recent years, every legally plundered148 trades-union treasury149, every closed shop made into an open shop, has driven the members of the working-class directly hurt over to socialism by hundreds and thousands. Show a working-man that his union fails, and he becomes a revolutionist. Break a strike with an injunction or bankrupt a union with a civil suit, and the working-men hurt thereby150 listen to the siren song of the socialist and are lost for ever to the political capitalist parties.
Antagonism151 never lulled revolution, and antagonism is about all the capitalist class offers. It is true, it offers some few antiquated152 notions which were very efficacious in the past, but which are no longer efficacious. Fourth-of-July liberty in terms of the Declaration of Independence and of the French Encyclopaedists is scarcely apposite to-day. It does not appeal to the working-man who has had his head broken by a policeman’s club, his union treasury bankrupted by a court decision, or his job taken away from him by a labour-saving invention. Nor does the Constitution of the United States appear so glorious and constitutional to the working-man who has experienced a bull-pen or been unconstitutionally deported153 from Colorado. Nor are this particular working-man’s hurt feelings soothed154 by reading in the newspapers that both the bull-pen and the deportation155 were pre-eminently just, legal, and constitutional. “To hell, then, with the Constitution!” says he, and another revolutionist has been made — by the capitalist class.
In short, so blind is the capitalist class that it does nothing to lengthen146 its lease of life, while it does everything to shorten it. The capitalist class offers nothing that is clean, noble, and alive. The revolutionists offer everything that is clean, noble, and alive. They offer service, unselfishness, sacrifice, martyrdom — the things that sting awake the imagination of the people, touching156 their hearts with the fervour that arises out of the impulse toward good and which is essentially157 religious in its nature.
But the revolutionists blow hot and blow cold. They offer facts and statistics, economics and scientific arguments. If the working-man be merely selfish, the revolutionists show him, mathematically demonstrate to him, that his condition will be bettered by the revolution. If the working-man be the higher type, moved by impulses toward right conduct, if he have soul and spirit, the revolutionists offer him the things of the soul and the spirit, the tremendous things that cannot be measured by dollars and cents, nor be held down by dollars and cents. The revolutionist cries out upon wrong and injustice158, and preaches righteousness. And, most potent159 of all, he sings the eternal song of human freedom — a song of all lands and all tongues and all time.
Few members of the capitalist class see the revolution. Most of them are too ignorant, and many are too afraid to see it. It is the same old story of every perishing ruling class in the world’s history. Fat with power and possession, drunken with success, and made soft by surfeit160 and by cessation of struggle, they are like the drones clustered about the honey vats161 when the worker-bees spring upon them to end their rotund existence.
President Roosevelt vaguely162 sees the revolution, is frightened by it, and recoils from seeing it. As he says: “Above all, we need to remember that any kind of class animosity in the political world is, if possible, even more wicked, even more destructive to national welfare, than sectional, race, or religious animosity.”
Class animosity in the political world, President Roosevelt maintains, is wicked. But class animosity in the political world is the preachment of the revolutionists. “Let the class wars in the industrial world continue,” they say, “but extend the class war to the political world.” As their leader, Eugene V. Debs says: “So far as this struggle is concerned, there is no good capitalist and no bad working-man. Every capitalist is your enemy and every working-man is your friend.”
Here is class animosity in the political world with a vengeance163. And here is revolution. In 1888 there were only 2,000 revolutionists of this type in the United States; in 1900 there were 127,000 revolutionists; in 1904, 435,000 revolutionists. Wickedness of the President Roosevelt definition evidently flourishes and increases in the United States. Quite so, for it is the revolution that flourishes and increases.
Here and there a member of the capitalist class catches a clear glimpse of the revolution, and raises a warning cry. But his class does not heed164. President Eliot of Harvard raised such a cry:
“I am forced to believe there is a present danger of socialism never before so imminent165 in America in so dangerous a form, because never before imminent in so well organized a form. The danger lies in the obtaining control of the trades-unions by the socialists.” And the capitalist employers, instead of giving heed to the warnings, are perfecting their strike-breaking organization and combining more strongly than ever for a general assault upon that dearest of all things to the trades-unions — the closed shop. In so far as this assault succeeds, by just that much will the capitalist class shorten its lease of life. It is the old, old story, over again and over again. The drunken drones still cluster greedily about the honey vats.
Possibly one of the most amusing spectacles of to-day is the attitude of the American press toward the revolution. It is also a pathetic spectacle. It compels the onlooker166 to be aware of a distinct loss of pride in his species. Dogmatic utterance167 from the mouth of ignorance may make gods laugh, but it should make men weep. And the American editors (in the general instance) are so impressive about it! The old “divide-up,” “men-are-not-born-free-and-equal,” propositions are enunciated168 gravely and sagely169, as things white-hot and new from the forge of human wisdom. Their feeble vapourings show no more than a schoolboy’s comprehension of the nature of the revolution. Parasites170 themselves on the capitalist class, serving the capitalist class by moulding public opinion, they, too, cluster drunkenly about the honey vats.
Of course, this is true only of the large majority of American editors. To say that it is true of all of them would be to cast too great obloquy171 upon the human race. Also, it would be untrue, for here and there an occasional editor does see clearly — and in his case, ruled by stomach-incentive, is usually afraid to say what he thinks about it. So far as the science and the sociology of the revolution are concerned, the average editor is a generation or so behind the facts. He is intellectually slothful, accepts no facts until they are accepted by the majority, and prides himself upon his conservatism. He is an instinctive optimist172, prone173 to believe that what ought to be, is. The revolutionist gave this up long ago, and believes not that what ought to be, is, but what is, is, and that it may not be what it ought to be at all.
Now and then, rubbing his eyes, vigorously, an editor catches a sudden glimpse of the revolution and breaks out in naive174 volubility, as, for instance, the one who wrote the following in the Chicago Chronicle: “American socialists are revolutionists. They know that they are revolutionists. It is high time that other people should appreciate the fact.” A white-hot, brand-new discovery, and he proceeded to shout it out from the housetops that we, forsooth, were revolutionists. Why, it is just what we have been doing all these years — shouting it out from the housetops that we are revolutionists, and stop us who can.
The time should be past for the mental attitude: “Revolution is atrocious. Sir, there is no revolution.” Likewise should the time be past for that other familiar attitude: “Socialism is slavery. Sir, it will never be.” It is no longer a question of dialectics, theories, and dreams. There is no question about it. The revolution is a fact. It is here now. Seven million revolutionists, organized, working day and night, are preaching the revolution — that passionate175 gospel, the Brotherhood of Man. Not only is it a cold-blooded economic propaganda, but it is in essence a religious propaganda with a fervour in it of Paul and Christ. The capitalist class has been indicted176. It has failed in its management and its management is to be taken away from it. Seven million men of the working-class say that they are going to get the rest of the working-class to join with them and take the management away. The revolution is here, now. Stop it who can.
Sacramento River.
March 1905.
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1 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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2 petrified | |
adj.惊呆的;目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆,使惊呆;变僵硬;使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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3 dwarf | |
n.矮子,侏儒,矮小的动植物;vt.使…矮小 | |
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4 overthrow | |
v.推翻,打倒,颠覆;n.推翻,瓦解,颠覆 | |
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5 analogous | |
adj.相似的;类似的 | |
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6 colossal | |
adj.异常的,庞大的 | |
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7 asteroids | |
n.小行星( asteroid的名词复数 );海盘车,海星 | |
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8 replete | |
adj.饱满的,塞满的;n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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9 sporadic | |
adj.偶尔发生的 [反]regular;分散的 | |
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10 myriad | |
adj.无数的;n.无数,极大数量 | |
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11 imposing | |
adj.使人难忘的,壮丽的,堂皇的,雄伟的 | |
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12 socialist | |
n.社会主义者;adj.社会主义的 | |
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13 symbolize | |
vt.作为...的象征,用符号代表 | |
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14 symbolizes | |
v.象征,作为…的象征( symbolize的第三人称单数 ) | |
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15 brotherhood | |
n.兄弟般的关系,手中情谊 | |
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16 bourgeois | |
adj./n.追求物质享受的(人);中产阶级分子 | |
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17 geographical | |
adj.地理的;地区(性)的 | |
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18 transcends | |
超出或超越(经验、信念、描写能力等)的范围( transcend的第三人称单数 ); 优于或胜过… | |
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19 mightier | |
adj. 强有力的,强大的,巨大的 adv. 很,极其 | |
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20 forefathers | |
n.祖先,先人;祖先,祖宗( forefather的名词复数 );列祖列宗;前人 | |
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21 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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22 imperialistic | |
帝国主义的,帝制的 | |
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23 socialists | |
社会主义者( socialist的名词复数 ) | |
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24 patriotism | |
n.爱国精神,爱国心,爱国主义 | |
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25 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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26 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
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27 solidarity | |
n.团结;休戚相关 | |
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28 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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29 impetus | |
n.推动,促进,刺激;推动力 | |
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30 liberating | |
解放,释放( liberate的现在分词 ) | |
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31 ken | |
n.视野,知识领域 | |
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32 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
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33 dominant | |
adj.支配的,统治的;占优势的;显性的;n.主因,要素,主要的人(或物);显性基因 | |
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34 reins | |
感情,激情; 缰( rein的名词复数 ); 控制手段; 掌管; (成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的)保护带 | |
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35 metropolises | |
n.一国的主要城市(不一定是首都)( metropolis的名词复数 );中心;大都会;大城市 | |
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36 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
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37 meted | |
v.(对某人)施以,给予(处罚等)( mete的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38 suffrage | |
n.投票,选举权,参政权 | |
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39 assassination | |
n.暗杀;暗杀事件 | |
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40 sane | |
adj.心智健全的,神志清醒的,明智的,稳健的 | |
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41 assassinations | |
n.暗杀( assassination的名词复数 ) | |
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42 disciples | |
n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 );门徒;耶稣的信徒;(尤指)耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
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43 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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44 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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45 indictment | |
n.起诉;诉状 | |
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46 bravado | |
n.虚张声势,故作勇敢,逞能 | |
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47 momentum | |
n.动力,冲力,势头;动量 | |
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48 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
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49 avowed | |
adj.公开声明的,承认的v.公开声明,承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
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50 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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51 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
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52 recoil | |
vi.退却,退缩,畏缩 | |
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53 shambles | |
n.混乱之处;废墟 | |
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54 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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55 recoils | |
n.(尤指枪炮的)反冲,后坐力( recoil的名词复数 )v.畏缩( recoil的第三人称单数 );退缩;报应;返回 | |
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56 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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57 buffer | |
n.起缓冲作用的人(或物),缓冲器;vt.缓冲 | |
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58 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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59 wail | |
vt./vi.大声哀号,恸哭;呼啸,尖啸 | |
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60 whim | |
n.一时的兴致,突然的念头;奇想,幻想 | |
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61 unanimity | |
n.全体一致,一致同意 | |
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62 ignobly | |
卑贱地,下流地 | |
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63 vouchsafed | |
v.给予,赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 );允诺 | |
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64 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
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65 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
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66 prattle | |
n.闲谈;v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话;发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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67 prattled | |
v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 );发出连续而无意义的声音;闲扯;东拉西扯 | |
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68 whit | |
n.一点,丝毫 | |
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69 slanted | |
有偏见的; 倾斜的 | |
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70 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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71 artifices | |
n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 );诡计;巧妙办法;虚伪行为 | |
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72 progeny | |
n.后代,子孙;结果 | |
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73 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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74 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
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75 segregated | |
分开的; 被隔离的 | |
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76 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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77 chronically | |
ad.长期地 | |
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78 vilely | |
adv.讨厌地,卑劣地 | |
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79 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
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80 toiled | |
长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 ); 艰难缓慢地移动,跋涉 | |
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81 earnings | |
n.工资收人;利润,利益,所得 | |
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82 countless | |
adj.无数的,多得不计其数的 | |
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83 mead | |
n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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84 evicted | |
v.(依法从房屋里或土地上)驱逐,赶出( evict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85 vagrancy | |
(说话的,思想的)游移不定; 漂泊; 流浪; 离题 | |
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86 vagrant | |
n.流浪者,游民;adj.流浪的,漂泊不定的 | |
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87 imprisonment | |
n.关押,监禁,坐牢 | |
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88 bins | |
n.大储藏箱( bin的名词复数 );宽口箱(如面包箱,垃圾箱等)v.扔掉,丢弃( bin的第三人称单数 ) | |
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89 brink | |
n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘,边沿 | |
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90 despatch | |
n./v.(dispatch)派遣;发送;n.急件;新闻报道 | |
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91 tenement | |
n.公寓;房屋 | |
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92 emaciated | |
adj.衰弱的,消瘦的 | |
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93 huddled | |
挤在一起(huddle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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94 ravenous | |
adj.极饿的,贪婪的 | |
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95 famished | |
adj.饥饿的 | |
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96 vestige | |
n.痕迹,遗迹,残余 | |
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97 toiling | |
长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 ); 艰难缓慢地移动,跋涉 | |
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98 dens | |
n.牙齿,齿状部分;兽窝( den的名词复数 );窝点;休息室;书斋 | |
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99 bully | |
n.恃强欺弱者,小流氓;vt.威胁,欺侮 | |
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100 puny | |
adj.微不足道的,弱小的 | |
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101 wrecks | |
n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 );(事故中)遭严重毁坏的汽车(或飞机等);(身体或精神上)受到严重损伤的人;状况非常糟糕的车辆(或建筑物等)v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 );使(船舶)失事,使遇难,使下沉 | |
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102 stunted | |
adj.矮小的;发育迟缓的 | |
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103 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
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104 tremor | |
n.震动,颤动,战栗,兴奋,地震 | |
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105 dime | |
n.(指美国、加拿大的钱币)一角 | |
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106 furrowed | |
v.犁田,开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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108 pneumonia | |
n.肺炎 | |
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109 rebound | |
v.弹回;n.弹回,跳回 | |
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110 stupor | |
v.昏迷;不省人事 | |
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111 myriads | |
n.无数,极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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112 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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113 wails | |
痛哭,哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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114 formulated | |
v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 );规划;确切地阐述;用公式表示 | |
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115 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
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116 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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117 barley | |
n.大麦,大麦粒 | |
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118 bonanza | |
n.富矿带,幸运,带来好运的事 | |
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119 wasteful | |
adj.(造成)浪费的,挥霍的 | |
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120 wastefully | |
浪费地,挥霍地,耗费地 | |
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121 irrationally | |
ad.不理性地 | |
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122 prodigiously | |
adv.异常地,惊人地,巨大地 | |
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123 elimination | |
n.排除,消除,消灭 | |
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124 incentive | |
n.刺激;动力;鼓励;诱因;动机 | |
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125 impelled | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126 formulating | |
v.构想出( formulate的现在分词 );规划;确切地阐述;用公式表示 | |
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127 sculptors | |
雕刻家,雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 ); [天]玉夫座 | |
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128 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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129 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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130 legislative | |
n.立法机构,立法权;adj.立法的,有立法权的 | |
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131 lulled | |
vt.使镇静,使安静(lull的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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132 plundering | |
掠夺,抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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133 treasuries | |
n.(政府的)财政部( treasury的名词复数 );国库,金库 | |
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134 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
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135 graft | |
n.移植,嫁接,艰苦工作,贪污;v.移植,嫁接 | |
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136 bribery | |
n.贿络行为,行贿,受贿 | |
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137 precarious | |
adj.不安定的,靠不住的;根据不足的 | |
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138 portent | |
n.预兆;恶兆;怪事 | |
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139 placid | |
adj.安静的,平和的 | |
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140 prattling | |
v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 );发出连续而无意义的声音;闲扯;东拉西扯 | |
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141 scrambling | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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142 sordidly | |
adv.肮脏地;污秽地;不洁地 | |
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143 overthrown | |
adj. 打翻的,推倒的,倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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144 overthrew | |
overthrow的过去式 | |
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145 lengthening | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的现在分词 ); 加长 | |
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146 lengthen | |
vt.使伸长,延长 | |
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147 conciliation | |
n.调解,调停 | |
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148 plundered | |
掠夺,抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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149 treasury | |
n.宝库;国库,金库;文库 | |
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150 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
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151 antagonism | |
n.对抗,敌对,对立 | |
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152 antiquated | |
adj.陈旧的,过时的 | |
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153 deported | |
v.将…驱逐出境( deport的过去式和过去分词 );举止 | |
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154 soothed | |
v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
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155 deportation | |
n.驱逐,放逐 | |
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156 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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157 essentially | |
adv.本质上,实质上,基本上 | |
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158 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
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159 potent | |
adj.强有力的,有权势的;有效力的 | |
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160 surfeit | |
v.使饮食过度;n.(食物)过量,过度 | |
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161 vats | |
varieties 变化,多样性,种类 | |
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162 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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163 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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164 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
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165 imminent | |
adj.即将发生的,临近的,逼近的 | |
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166 onlooker | |
n.旁观者,观众 | |
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167 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
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168 enunciated | |
v.(清晰地)发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 );确切地说明 | |
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169 sagely | |
adv. 贤能地,贤明地 | |
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170 parasites | |
寄生物( parasite的名词复数 ); 靠他人为生的人; 诸虫 | |
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171 obloquy | |
n.斥责,大骂 | |
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172 optimist | |
n.乐观的人,乐观主义者 | |
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173 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
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174 naive | |
adj.幼稚的,轻信的;天真的 | |
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175 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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176 indicted | |
控告,起诉( indict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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