“Of mellow4 brick-work on an isle5 of bowers”
is walled in with solid masonry6 from the sea, and encloses a garden-court, filled with all beautiful flowers, and with the memorable7 trees of the East; while another garden encompasses8 the monastery9 itself, and yields those honest fruits and vegetables which supply the wants of the well-cared-for mortal part of the good brothers. The island is called San Lazzaro, and the convent was established in 1717 by a learned and devoted10 Armenian priest named Mechithar, from whom the present order of monks is called Mechitharist. He was the first who formed the idea of educating a class of priests to act as missionaries11 among the Armenian nation in the East, and infuse into its civil and religious decay the life of European piety12 and learning. He founded at Sebaste, therefore, a religious order of which the seat was presently removed to Constantinople, where the friars met with so much persecution13 from Armenian heterodoxy that it was again transferred, and fixed14 at Modone in Morea. That territory falling into the hands of the Turks, the Mechitharists fled with their leader to Venice, where the Republic bestowed15 upon them a waste and desolate16 island, which had formerly17 been used as a place of refuge for lepers; and the monks made it the loveliest spot in all the lagoons18.
The little island has such a celebrity19 in travel and romance, that I feel my pen catching20 in the tatters of a threadbare theme. And yet I love the place and its people so well, that I could scarcely pass it without mention. Every tourist who spends a week in Venice goes to see the convent, and every one is charmed with it and the courteous21 welcome of the fathers. Its best interest is the intrinsic interest attaching to it as a seat of Armenian culture; but persons who relish22 the cheap sentimentalism of Byron’s life, find the convent all the more entertaining from the fact that he did the Armenian language the favor to study it there, a little. The monks show his autograph, together with those of other distinguished23 persons, and the Armenian Bible which he used to read. I understood from one of the friars, Padre Giacomo Issaverdanz, that the brothers knew little or nothing of Byron’s celebrity as a poet while he studied with them, and that his proficiency24 as an Armenian scholar was not such as to win high regard from them.
I think most readers who have visited the convent will recall the pleasant face and manners of the young father mentioned, who shows the place to English-speaking travelers, and will care to know that Padre Giacomo was born at Smyrna, and dwelt there in the family of an English lady, till he came to Venice, and entered on his monastic life at San Lazzaro.
He came one morning to breakfast with us, bringing with him Padre Alessio, a teacher in the Armenian College in the city. As for the latter, it was not without a certain shock that I heard Mesopotamia mentioned as his birthplace, having somehow in childhood learned to regard that formidable name as little better than a kind of profane25 swearing. But I soon came to know Padre Alessio apart from his birthplace, and to find him very interesting as a scholar and an artist. He threw a little grace of poetry around our simple feast, by repeating some Armenian verses,—grace all the more ethereal from our entire ignorance of what the verses meant. Our breakfast-table talk wrought26 to friendship the acquaintance made some time before, and the next morning we received the photograph of Padre Giacomo, and the compliments of the Orient, in a heaped basket of ripe and luscious28 figs29 from the garden of the Convent San Lazzaro. When, in turn, we went to visit him at the convent, we had experience of a more curious oriental hospitality. Refreshments30 were offered to us as to friends, and we lunched fairily upon little dishes of rose leaves, delicately preserved, with all their fragrance31, in a “lucent sirup.” It seemed that this was a common conserve32 in the East; but we could hardly divest33 ourselves of the notion of sacrilege, as we thus fed upon the very most luxurious34 sweetness and perfume of the soul of summer. Pleasant talk accompanied the dainty repast,—Padre Giacomo recounting for us some of his adventures with the people whom he had to show about the convent, and of whom many were disappointed at not finding a gallery or museum, and went away in extreme disgust; and relating with a sly, sarcastic35 relish that blent curiously36 with his sweetness and gentleness of spirit, how some English people once came with the notion that Lord Byron was an Armenian; how an unhappy French gentleman, who had been robbed in Southern Italy, would not be parted a moment from a huge bludgeon which he carried in his hand, and (probably disordered by his troubles) could hardly be persuaded from attacking the mummy which is in one of the halls; how a sharp, bustling38, go-ahead Yankee rushed in one morning, rubbing his hands, and demanding, “Show me all you can in five minutes.”
As a seat of learning, San Lazzaro is famed throughout the Armenian world, and gathers under its roof the best scholars and poets of that nation. In the printing-office of the convent books are printed in some thirty different languages; and a number of the fathers employ themselves constantly in works of translation. The most distinguished of the Armenian literati now living at San Lazzaro is the Reverend Father Gomidas Pakraduni, who has published an Armenian version of “Paradise Lost,” and whose great labor39 the translation of Homer, has been recently issued from the convent press. He was born at Constantinople of an ancient and illustrious family, and took religious orders at San Lazzaro, where he was educated, and where for twenty-five years after his consecration40 he held the professorship of his native tongue. He devoted himself especially to the culture of the ancient Armenian, and developed it for the expression of modern ideas, he made exhaustive study of the vast collection of old manuscripts at San Lazzaro, and then went to Paris in pursuance of his purpose, and acquainted himself with all the treasures of Armenian learning in the Bibliothèque Royale. He became the first scholar of the age in his national language, and acquired at the same time a profound knowledge of Latin and Greek.
Returning to Constantinople, Father Pakraduni, whose fame had preceded him, took up his residence in the family of a noble Armenian, high in the service of the Turkish government; and while assuming the care of educating his friend’s children, began those labors41 of translation which have since so largely employed him. He made an Armenian version of Pindar, and wrote a work on Rhetoric42, both of which were destroyed by fire while yet in the manuscript. He labored43, meanwhile, on his translation of the Iliad,—a youthful purpose which he did not see fulfilled till the year 1860, when he had already touched the Psalmist’s limit of life. In this translation he revived with admirable success an ancient species of Armenian verse, which bears, in flexibility44 and strength, comparison with the original Greek. Another of his great labors was the production of an Armenian Grammar, in which he reduced to rule and order the numerous forms of his native tongue, never before presented by one work in all its eastern variety.
Padre Giacomo, to whose great kindness I am indebted for a biographic and critical notice in writing of Father Pakraduni, considers the epic45 poem by that scholar a far greater work than any of his philological46 treatises47, profound and thorough as they are. When nearly completed, this poem perished in the same conflagration48 which consumed the Pindar and the Rhetoric; but the poet patiently began his work anew, and after eight years gave his epic of twenty books and twenty-two thousand verses to the press. The hero of the poem is Ha?k, the first Armenian patriarch after the flood, and the founder49 of a kingly dynasty. Nimrod, the great hunter, drunk with his victories, declares himself a god, and ordains50 his own worship throughout the Orient. Ha?k refuses to obey the commands of the tyrant51, takes up arms against him, and finally kills him in battle. “In the style of this poem,” writes Padre Giacomo, “it is hard to tell whether to admire most its richness, its energy, its sweetness, its melancholy52, its freedom, its dignity, or its harmony, for it has all these virtues53 in turn. The descriptive parts are depicted54 with the faithfulest pencil: the battle scenes can only be matched in the Iliad.”
Father Pakraduni returned, after twenty-five years’ sojourn55 at Constantinople, to publish his epic at San Lazzaro, where he still lives, a tranquil56, gentle old man, with a patriarchal beauty and goodness of face. In 1861 he printed his translation of Milton, with a dedication57 to Queen Victoria. His other works bear witness to the genuineness of his inspiration and piety, and the diligence of his study: they are poems, poetic58 translations from the Italian, religious essays, and grammatical treatises.
Indeed, the existence of all the friars at San Lazzaro is one of close and earnest study; and life grows so fond of these quiet monks that it will hardly part with them at last. One of them is ninety-five years old, and, until 1863, there was a lay-brother among them whose years numbered a hundred and eight, and who died of old age, on the 17th of September, after passing fifty-eight years at San Lazzaro. From biographic memoranda59 furnished me by Padre Giacomo, I learn that the name of this patriarch was George Karabagiak, and that he was a native of Kutaieh in Asia Minor60. He was for a long time the disciple61 of Dèdè Vartabied, a renowned62 preacher of the Armenian faith, and he afterward63 taught the doctrines64 of his master in the Armenian schools. Failing in his desire to enter upon the sacerdotal life at Constantinople, he procured65 his admission as lay-brother at San Lazzaro, where all his remaining days were spent. He was but little learned; but he had great passion for poetry, and he was the author of some thirty small works on different subjects. During the course of his long and diligent66 life, which was chiefly spent in learning and teaching, he may be said to have hardly known a day’s sickness. And at last he died of no perceptible disorder37. The years tired him to death. He had a trifling67 illness in August, and as he convalesced68, he grew impatient of the tenacious69 life which held him to earth. Slowly pacing up and down the corridors of the convent, he used to crave70 the prayers of the brothers whom he met, beseeching71 them to intercede72 with Heaven that he might be suffered to die. One day he said to the archbishop, “I fear that God has abandoned me, and I shall live.” Only a little while before his death he wrote some verses, as Padre Giacomo’s memorandum73 witnesses, “with a firm and steady hand,” and the manner of his death was this,—as recorded in the grave and simple words of my friend’s note:—“Finally, on the 17th of September, very early in the morning, a brother entering his chamber74, asked him how he was. ‘Well,’ he replied, turning his face to the wall, and spoke75 no more. He had passed to a better life.”
It seems to me there is a pathos76 in the close of this old man’s life,—which I hope has not been lost by my way of describing it,—and there is certainly a moral. I have read of an unlucky sage77 who discovered the Elixir78 of Life, and who, after thrice renewing his existence, at last voluntarily resigned himself to death, because he had exhausted79 all that life had to offer of pleasure or of pain, and knew all its vicissitudes80 but the very last. Brother Karabagiak seems to have had no humor to take even a second ease of life. It is perhaps as well that most men die before reaching the over-ripeness of a hundred and eight years; and, doubtless, with all our human willfulness and ignorance, we would readily consent, if we could fix the time, to go sooner—say, at a hundred and seven years, friends?
Besides the Convent of San Lazzaro, where Armenian boys from all parts of the East are educated for the priesthood, the nation has a college in the city in which boys intended for secular81 careers receive their schooling82. The Palazzo Zenobia is devoted to the use of this college, where, besides room for study, the boys have abundant space and apparatus83 for gymnastics, and ample grounds for gardening. We once passed a pleasant summer evening there, strolling through the fragrant84 alleys85 of the garden, in talk with the father-professors, and looking on at the gymnastic feats86 of the boys; and when the annual exhibition of the school took place in the fall, we were invited to be present.
The room appointed for the exhibition was the great hall of the palace, which in other days had evidently been a ball-room. The ceiling was frescoed87 in the manner of the last century, with Cupids and Venuses, Vices88 and Virtues, fruits and fiddles89, dwarfs90 and blackamoors; and the painted faces looked down on a scene of as curious interest as ever the extravagant91 loves and graces of Tiepolo might hope to see, when the boys of the college, after assisting at Te Deum in the chapel92, entered the room, and took their places.
At the head of the hall sat the archbishop in his dark robes, with his heavy gold chain about his neck—a figure and a countenance93 in all things spiritual, gracious, and reverend. There is small difference, I believe, between the creeds94 of the Armenians and the Roman Catholics, but a very great disparity in the looks of the two priesthoods, which is all in favor of the former. The Armenian wears his beard, and the Latin shaves—which may have a great deal to do with the holiness of appearance. Perhaps, also, the gentle and mild nature of the oriental yields more sweetly and entirely95 to the self-denials of the ecclesiastical vocation97, and thus wins a fairer grace from them. At any rate, I have not seen any thing but content and calm in the visages of the Armenian fathers, among whom the priest-face, as a type, does not exist, though it would mark the Romish ecclesiastic96 in whatever dress he wore. There is, moreover, a look of such entire confidence and unworldly sincerity98 in their eyes, that I could not help thinking, as I turned from the portly young fathers to the dark-faced, grave, old-fashioned school-boys, that an exchange of beard only was needed to effect an exchange of character between those youthful elders and their pupils. The gray-haired archbishop is a tall and slender man; but nearly all the fathers take kindly99 to curves and circles, and glancing down a row of these amiable100 priests I could scarcely repress a smile at the constant recurrence101 of the line of beauty in their well-rounded persons.
On the right and left of the archbishop were the few invited guests, and at the other end of the saloon sat one of the fathers, the plump key-stone of an arch of comfortable young students expanding toward us. Most of the boys are from Turkey (the Armenians of Venice, though acknowledging the Pope as their spiritual head, are the subjects of the Sultan), others are of Asiatic birth, and two are Egyptians.
As to the last, I think the Sphinx and the Pyramid could hardly have impressed me more than their dark faces, that seemed to look vaguely102 on our modern world from the remote twilights of old, and in their very infancy103 to be reverend through the antiquity104 of their race. The mother of these boys—a black-eyed, olive-cheeked lady, very handsome and stylish—was present with their younger brother. I hardly know whether to be ashamed of having been awed105 by hearing of the little Egyptian that his native tongue was Arabic, and that he spoke nothing more occidental than Turkish. But, indeed, was it wholly absurd to offer a tacit homage106 to this favored boy, who must know the “Arabian Nights” in the original?
The exercises began with a theme in Armenian—a language which, but for its English abundance of sibilants, and a certain German rhythm, was wholly outlandish to our ears. Themes in Italian, German, and French succeeded, and then came one in English. We afterward had speech with the author of this essay, who expressed the liveliest passion for English, in the philosophy and poetry of which it seemed he particularly delighted. He told us that he was a Constantinopolitan, and that in six months more he would complete his collegiate course, when he would return to his native city, and take employment in the service of the Turkish Government. Many others of the Armenian students here also find this career open to them in the East.
The literary exercises closed with another essay in Armenian; and then the archbishop delivered, very gracefully107 and impressively, an address to the boys. After this, the distribution of the premiums—medals of silver and bronze, and books—took place at the desk of the archbishop. Each boy, as he advanced to receive his premium108, knelt and touched the hand of the priest with his lips and forehead,—a quaint27 and pleasing ceremony which had preceded and followed the reading of all the themes.
The social greetings and congratulations that now took place ended an entertainment throughout which every body was pleased, and the goodnatured fathers seemed to be moved with a delight no less hearty109 than that of the boys themselves. Indeed, the ground of affection and confidence on which the lads and their teachers seemed to meet, was something very novel and attractive. We shook hands with our smiling friends among the padri, took leave of the archbishop, and then visited the studio of Padre Alessio, who had just finished a faithful and spirited portrait of monsignore. Adieux to the artist and to Padre Giacomo brought our visit to an end; and so, from that scene of oriental learning, simplicity110, and kindliness111, we walked into our western life once more, and resumed our citizenship112 and burden in the Venetian world—out of the waters of which, like a hydra113 or other water beast, a bathing boy instantly issued and begged of us.
A few days later our good Armenians went to pass a month on the main-land near Padua, where they have comfortable possessions. Peace followed them, and they came back as plump as they went.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
monks
|
|
| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
cloistral
|
|
| adj.修道院的，隐居的，孤独的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
lagoon
|
|
| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mellow
|
|
| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
isle
|
|
| n.小岛，岛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
masonry
|
|
| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
encompasses
|
|
| v.围绕( encompass的第三人称单数 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
monastery
|
|
| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
missionaries
|
|
| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
persecution
|
|
| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
bestowed
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
lagoons
|
|
| n.污水池( lagoon的名词复数 )；潟湖；（大湖或江河附近的）小而浅的淡水湖；温泉形成的池塘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
celebrity
|
|
| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
relish
|
|
| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
proficiency
|
|
| n.精通，熟练，精练 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
profane
|
|
| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
luscious
|
|
| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
figs
|
|
| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
conserve
|
|
| vt.保存，保护，节约，节省，守恒，不灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
divest
|
|
| v.脱去，剥除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
sarcastic
|
|
| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
disorder
|
|
| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
bustling
|
|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
labor
|
|
| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
consecration
|
|
| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
labors
|
|
| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
rhetoric
|
|
| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
labored
|
|
| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
flexibility
|
|
| n.柔韧性，弹性，（光的）折射性，灵活性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
epic
|
|
| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
philological
|
|
| adj.语言学的，文献学的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
treatises
|
|
| n.专题著作，专题论文，专著( treatise的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
conflagration
|
|
| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
Founder
|
|
| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
ordains
|
|
| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的第三人称单数 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
depicted
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
sojourn
|
|
| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
dedication
|
|
| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
poetic
|
|
| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
memoranda
|
|
| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
disciple
|
|
| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
renowned
|
|
| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
doctrines
|
|
| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
diligent
|
|
| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
convalesced
|
|
| v.康复( convalesce的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
tenacious
|
|
| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
crave
|
|
| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
beseeching
|
|
| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
intercede
|
|
| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
memorandum
|
|
| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
pathos
|
|
| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
sage
|
|
| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
elixir
|
|
| n.长生不老药，万能药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
vicissitudes
|
|
| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
secular
|
|
| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
schooling
|
|
| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
apparatus
|
|
| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
fragrant
|
|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
alleys
|
|
| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
feats
|
|
| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
frescoed
|
|
| 壁画( fresco的名词复数 )； 温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
vices
|
|
| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
fiddles
|
|
| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
dwarfs
|
|
| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
extravagant
|
|
| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
creeds
|
|
| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
ecclesiastic
|
|
| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
sincerity
|
|
| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
recurrence
|
|
| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
infancy
|
|
| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
awed
|
|
| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
gracefully
|
|
| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
premium
|
|
| n.加付款；赠品；adj.高级的；售价高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
kindliness
|
|
| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
citizenship
|
|
| n.市民权，公民权，国民的义务(身份) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
hydra
|
|
| n.水螅；难于根除的祸患 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |