60. RATIONALISM.—As the content of a philosophical1 doctrine2 must be determined3 by the initial assumptions which a philosopher makes and by the method which he adopts in his reasonings, it is well to examine with some care certain broad differences in this respect which characterize different philosophers, and which help to explain how it is that the results of their reflections are so startlingly different.
I shall first speak of Rationalism, which I may somewhat loosely define as the doctrine that the reason can attain4 truths independently of observation—can go beyond experienced fact and the deductions5 which experience seems to justify6 us in making from experienced fact. The definition cannot mean much to us until it is interpreted by a concrete example, and I shall turn to such. It must, however, be borne in mind that the word "rationalism" is meant to cover a great variety of opinions, and we have said comparatively little about him when we have called a man a rationalist in philosophy. Men may agree in believing that the reason can go beyond experienced fact, and yet may differ regarding the particular truths which may be thus attained8.
Now, when Descartes found himself discontented with the philosophy that he and others had inherited from the Middle Ages, and undertook a reconstruction9, he found it necessary to throw over a vast amount of what had passed as truth, if only with a view to building up again upon a firmer foundation. It appeared to him that much was uncritically accepted as true in philosophy and in the sciences which a little reflection revealed to be either false or highly doubtful. Accordingly, he decided10 to clear the ground by a sweeping11 doubt, and to begin his task quite independently.
In accordance with this principle, he rejected the testimony12 of the senses touching13 the existence of a world of external things. Do not the senses sometimes deceive us? And, since men seem to be liable to error in their reasonings, even in a field so secure as that of mathematical demonstration14, he resolved further to repudiate15 all the reasonings he had heretofore accepted. He would not even assume himself to be in his right mind and awake; might he not be the victim of a diseased fancy, or a man deluded16 by dreams?
Could anything whatever escape this all-devouring doubt? One truth seemed unshakable: his own existence, at least, emerged from this sea of uncertainties17. I may be deceived in thinking that there is an external world, and that I am awake and really perceive things; but I surely cannot be deceived unless I exist. Cogito, ergo sum—I think, hence I exist; this truth Descartes accepted as the first principle of the new and sounder philosophy which he sought.
As we read farther in Descartes we discover that he takes back again a great many of those things that he had at the outset rejected as uncertain. Thus, he accepts an external world of material things. How does he establish its existence? He cannot do it as the empiricist does it, by a reference to experienced fact, for he does not believe that the external world is directly given in our experience. He thinks we are directly conscious only of our ideas of it, and must somehow prove that it exists over against our ideas.
By his principles, Descartes is compelled to fall back upon a curious roundabout argument to prove that there is a world. He must first prove that God exists, and then argue that God would not deceive us into thinking that it exists when it does not.
Now, when we come to examine Descartes' reasonings in detail we find what appear to us some very uncritical assumptions. Thus, he proves the existence of God by the following argument:—
I exist, and I find in me the idea of God; of this idea I cannot be the author, for it represents something much greater than I, and its cause must be as great as the reality it represents. In other words, nothing less than God can be the cause of the idea of God which I find in me, and, hence, I may infer that God exists.
Where did Descartes get this notion that every idea must have a cause which contains as much external reality as the idea does represented reality? How does he prove his assumption? He simply appeals to what he calls "the natural light," which is for him a source of all sorts of information which cannot be derived18 from experience. This "natural light" furnishes him with a vast number of "eternal truths", these he has not brought under the sickle19 of his sweeping doubt, and these help him to build up again the world he has overthrown20, beginning with the one indubitable fact discussed above.
To the men of a later time many of Descartes' eternal truths are simply inherited philosophical prejudices, the results of the reflections of earlier thinkers, and in sad need of revision. I shall not criticise21 them in detail. The important point for us to notice is that we have here a type of philosophy which depends upon truths revealed by the reason, independently of experience, to carry one beyond the sphere of experience.
I again remind the reader that there are all sorts of rationalists, in the philosophical sense of the word. Some trust the power of the unaided reason without reserve. Thus Spinoza, the pantheist, made the magnificent but misguided attempt to deduce the whole system of things physical and things mental from what he called the attributes of God, Extension and Thought.
On the other hand, one may be a good deal of an empiricist, and yet something of a rationalist, too. Thus Professor Strong, in his recent brilliant book, "Why the Mind has a Body," maintains that we know intuitively that other minds than our own exist; know it without gathering23 our information from experience, and without having to establish the fact in any way. This seems, at least, akin7 to the doctrine of the "natural light," and yet no one can say that Professor Strong does not, in general, believe in a philosophy of observation and experiment.
61. EMPIRICISM.—I suppose every one who has done some reading in the history of philosophy will, if his mother tongue be English, think of the name of John Locke when empiricism is mentioned.
Locke, in his "Essay concerning Human Understanding," undertakes "to inquire into the original, certainty, and extent of human knowledge, together with the grounds and degrees of belief, opinion, and assent24." His sober and cautious work, which was first published in 1690, was peculiarly English in character; and the spirit which it exemplifies animates25 also Locke's famous successors, George Berkeley (1684-1753), David Hume (1711-1776), and John Stuart Mill (1806-1873). Although Locke was a realist, Berkeley an idealist, Hume a skeptic26, and Mill what has been called a sensationalist; yet all were empiricists of a sort, and emphasized the necessity of founding our knowledge upon experience.
Now, Locke was familiar with the writings of Descartes, whose work he admired, but whose rationalism offended him. The first book of the "Essay" is devoted27 to the proof that there are in the mind of man no "innate28 ideas" and no "innate principles." That is to say, Locke tries to show that one must not seek, in the "natural light" to which Descartes turned, a distinct and independent source of information,
"Let us, then," he continues, "suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characters, without any ideas; how comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store which the busy and boundless29 fancy of man has painted on it, with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge? To this I answer in one word, from experience; in that all our knowledge is founded, and from that it ultimately derives30 itself. Our observation, employed either about external sensible objects, or about the internal operations of our minds, perceived and reflected on by ourselves, is that which supplies our understandings with all the materials of thinking. These two are the fountains of knowledge, from whence all the ideas we have, or can naturally have, do spring." [1]
Thus, all we know and all we ever shall know of the world of matter and of minds must rest ultimately upon observation,—observation of external things and of our own mind. We must clip the erratic31 wing of a "reason" which seeks to soar beyond such knowledge; which leaves the solid earth, and hangs suspended in the void.
"But hold," exclaims the critical reader; "have we not seen that Locke, as well as Descartes (section 48), claims to know what he cannot prove by direct observation or even by a legitimate32 inference from what has been directly observed? Does he not maintain that the mind has an immediate33 knowledge or experience only of its own ideas? How can he prove that there are material extended things outside causing these ideas? And if he cannot prove it by an appeal to experience, to direct observation, is he not, in accepting the existence of the external world at all, just as truly as Descartes, a rationalist?"
The objection is well taken. On his own principles, Locke had no right to believe in an external world. He has stolen his world, so to speak; he has taken it by violence. Nevertheless, as I pointed34 out in the section above referred to, Locke is not a rationalist of malice35 prepense. He tries to be an empiricist. He believes in the external world because he thinks it is directly revealed to the senses—he inconsistently refers to experience as evidence of its existence.
It has often been claimed by those who do not sympathize with empiricism that the empiricists make assumptions much as others do, but have not the grace to admit it. I think we must frankly36 confess that a man may try hard to be an empiricist and may not be wholly successful. Moreover, reflection forces us to the conclusion that when we have defined empiricism as a doctrine which rests throughout upon an appeal to "experience" we have not said anything very definite.
What is experience? What may we accept as directly revealed fact? The answer to such questions is far from an easy one to give. It is a harder matter to discuss intelligently than any one can at all realize until he has spent some years in following the efforts of the philosophers to determine what is "revealed fact." We are supposed to have experience of our own minds, of space, of time, of matter. What are these things as revealed in our experience? We have seen in the earlier chapters of this book that one cannot answer such questions off-hand.
62. CRITICISM.—I have in another chapter (section 51) given a brief account of the philosophy of Immanuel Kant. He called his doctrine "Criticism," and he distinguished37 it from "Dogmatism" and "Empiricism."
Every philosophy that transcends38 experience, without first critically examining our faculty39 of knowledge and determining its right to spread its wings in this way, Kant calls "dogmatism." The word seems rather an offensive one, in its usual signification, at least; and it is as well not to use it. As Kant used the word, Descartes was a dogmatist; but let us rather call him a rationalist. He certainly had no intention of proceeding40 uncritically, as we shall see a little later. If we call him a dogmatist we seem to condemn41 him in advance, by applying to him an abusive epithet42.
Empiricism, according to Kant, confines human knowledge to experience, and thus avoids the errors which beset43 the dogmatist. But then, as Hume seemed to have shown, empiricism must run out into skepticism. If all our knowledge has its foundations in experience, how can we expect to find in our possession any universal or necessary truths? May not a later experience contradict an earlier? How can we be sure that what has been will be? Can we know that there is anything fixed44 and certain in our world?
Skepticism seemed a forlorn doctrine, and, casting about for a way of escape from it, Kant hit upon the expedient45 which I have described. So long as we maintain that our knowledge has no other source than the experiences which the world imprints46 upon us, so to speak, from without, we are without the power of prediction, for new experiences may annihilate47 any generalizations48 we have founded upon those already vouchsafed49 us; but if we assume that the world upon which we gaze, the world of phenomena50, is made what it is by the mind that perceives it, are we not in a different position?
Suppose, for example, we take the statement that there must be an adequate cause of all the changes that take place in the world. Can a mere51 experience of what has been in the past guarantee that this law will hold good in the future? But, when we realize that the world of which we are speaking is nothing more than a world of phenomena, of experiences, and realize further that this whole world is constructed by the mind out of the raw materials furnished by the senses, may we not have a greater confidence in our law? If it is the nature of the mind to connect the phenomena presented to it with one another as cause and effect, may we not maintain that no phenomenon can possibly make its appearance that defies the law in question? How could it appear except under the conditions laid upon all phenomena? If it is our nature to think the world as an orderly one, and if we can know no world save the one we construct ourselves, the orderliness of all the things we can know seems to be guaranteed to us.
It will be noticed that Kant's doctrine has a negative side. He limits our knowledge to phenomena, to experiences, and he is himself, in so far, an empiricist. But in that he finds in experience an order, an arrangement of things, not derived from experience in the usual sense of the word, he is not an empiricist. He has paid his own doctrine the compliment of calling it "criticism," as I have said.
Now, I beg the reader to be here, as elsewhere, on his guard against the associations which attach to words. In calling Kant's doctrine "the critical philosophy," we are in some danger of uncritically assuming and leading others to believe uncritically that it is free from such defects as may be expected to attach to "dogmatism" and to empiricism. Such a position should not be taken until one has made a most careful examination of each of the three types of doctrine, of the assumptions which it makes, and of the rigor52 with which it draws inferences upon the basis of such assumptions. That we may be the better able to withstand "undue53 influence," I call attention to the following points:—
(1) We must bear in mind that the attempt to make a critical examination into the foundations of our knowledge, and to determine its scope, is by no means a new thing. Among the Greeks, Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics54, the Epicureans, and the Skeptics, all attacked the problem. It did not, of course, present itself to these men in the precise form in which it presented itself to Kant, but each and all were concerned to find an answer to the question: Can we know anything with certainty; and, if so, what? They may have failed to be thoroughly55 critical, but they certainly made the attempt.
I shall omit mention of the long series of others, who, since that time, have carried on the tradition, and shall speak only of Descartes and Locke, whom I have above brought forward as representatives of the two types of doctrine that Kant contrasts with his own.
To see how strenuously56 Descartes endeavored to subject his knowledge to a critical scrutiny57 and to avoid unjustifiable assumptions of any sort, one has only to read that charming little work of genius, the "Discourse58 on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason."
In his youth Descartes was, as he informs us, an eager student; but, when he had finished the whole course of education usually prescribed, he found himself so full of doubts and errors that he did not feel that he had advanced in learning at all. Yet he had been well tutored, and was considered as bright in mind as others. He was led to judge his neighbor by himself, and to conclude that there existed no such certain science as he had been taught to suppose.
Having ripened59 with years and experience, Descartes set about the task of which I have spoken above, the task of sweeping away the whole body of his opinions and of attempting a general and systematic60 reconstruction. So important a work should be, he thought, approached with circumspection61; hence, he formulated62 certain Rules of Method.
"The first," he writes, "was never to accept anything for true which I did not clearly know to be such; that is, carefully to avoid haste and prejudice, and to include nothing more in my judgments64 than what was presented to my mind so clearly and distinctly as to exclude all reason for doubt."
Such was our philosopher's design, and such the spirit in which he set about it. We have seen the result above. It is as if Descartes had decided that a certain room full of people did not appear to be free from suspicious characters, and had cleared out every one, afterwards posting himself at the door to readmit only those who proved themselves worthy66. When we examine those who succeeded in passing muster67, we discover he has favored all his old friends. He simply cannot doubt them; are they not vouched68 for by the "natural light"? Nevertheless, we must not forget that Descartes sifted69 his congregation with much travail70 of spirit. He did try to be critical.
As for John Locke, he reveals in the "Epistle to the Reader," which stands as a preface to the "Essay," the critical spirit in which his work was taken up. "Were it fit to trouble thee," he writes, "with the history of this Essay, I should tell thee, that five or six friends meeting at my chamber71, and discoursing72 on a subject very remote from this, found themselves quickly at a stand, by the difficulties that rose on every side. After we had a while puzzled ourselves, without coming any nearer a resolution of those doubts which perplexed73 us, it came into my thoughts, that we took a wrong course; and that before we set ourselves upon inquiries74 of that nature, it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and to see what objects our understandings were, or were not, fitted to deal with."
This problem, proposed by himself to his little circle of friends, Locke attacked with earnestness, and as a result he brought out many years later the work which has since become so famous. The book is literally75 a critique of the reason, although a very different critique from that worked out by Kant.
"If, by this inquiry76 into the nature of the understanding," says Locke, "I can discover the powers thereof, how far they reach, to what things they are in any degree proportionate, and where they fail us; I suppose it may be of use to prevail with the busy mind of man to be more cautious in meddling77 with things exceeding its comprehension; to stop when it is at the utmost extent of its tether; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance of those things which upon examination are found to be beyond the reach of our capacities." [2]
To the difficulties of the task our author is fully63 alive: "The understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see and perceive all other things, takes no notice of itself; and it requires art and pains to set it at a distance, and make it its own object. But whatever be the difficulties that lie in the way of this inquiry, whatever it be that keeps us so much in the dark to ourselves, sure I am that all the light we can let in upon our own minds, all the acquaintance we can make with our own understandings, will not only be very pleasant, but bring us great advantage, in directing our thoughts in the search, of other things." [3]
(2) Thus, many men have attempted to produce a critical philosophy, and in much the same sense as that in which Kant uses the words. Those who have come after them have decided that they were not sufficiently78 critical, that they have made unjustifiable assumptions. When we come to read Kant, we will, if we have read the history of philosophy with profit, not forget to ask ourselves if he has not sinned in the same way.
For example, we will ask;—
(a) Was Kant right in maintaining that we find in experience synthetic79 judgments (section 51) that are not founded upon experience, but yield such information as is beyond the reach of the empiricist? There are those who think that the judgments to which he alludes80 in evidence of his contention—the mathematical, for instance—are not of this character.
(b) Was he justified81 in assuming that all the ordering of our world is due to the activity of mind, and that merely the raw material is "given" us through the senses? There are many who demur82 against such a statement, and hold that it is, if not in all senses untrue, at least highly misleading, since it seems to argue that there is no really external world at all. Moreover, they claim that the doctrine is neither self-evident nor susceptible83 of proper proof.
(c) Was Kant justified in assuming that, even if we attribute the "form" or arrangement of the world we know to the native activity of the mind, the necessity and universality of our knowledge is assured? Let us grant that the proposition, whatever happens must have an adequate cause, is a "form of thought." What guarantee have we that the "forms of thought" must ever remain changeless? If it is an assumption for the empiricist to declare that what has been true in the past will be true in the future, that earlier experiences of the world will not be contradicted by later; what is it for the Kantian to maintain that the order which he finds in his experience will necessarily and always be the order of all future experiences? Transferring an assumption to the field of mind does not make it less of an assumption.
Thus, it does not seem unreasonable84 to charge Kant with being a good deal of a rationalist. He tried to confine our knowledge to the field of experience, it is true; but he made a number of assumptions as to the nature of experience which certainly do not shine by their own light, and which many thoughtful persons regard as incapable85 of justification86.
Kant's famous successors in the German philosophy, Fichte (1762-1814), Schelling (1775-1854), Hegel (1770-1831), and Schopenhauer (1788-1860), all received their impulse from the "critical philosophy," and yet each developed his doctrine in a relatively87 independent way.
I cannot here take the space to characterize the systems of these men; I may merely remark that all of them contrast strongly in doctrine and method with the British philosophers mentioned in the last section, Locke, Berkeley, Hume, and Mill. They are un-empirical, if one may use such a word; and, to one accustomed to reading the English philosophy, they seem ever ready to spread their wings and hazard the boldest of flights without a proper realization88 of the thinness of the atmosphere in which they must support themselves.
However, no matter what may be one's opinion of the actual results attained by these German philosophers, one must frankly admit that no one who wishes to understand clearly the development of speculative89 thought can afford to dispense90 with a careful reading of them. Much even of the English philosophy of our own day must remain obscure to those who have not looked into their pages. Thus, the thought of Kant and Hegel molded the thought of Thomas Hill Green (1836-1882) and of the brothers Caird; and their influence has made itself widely felt both in England and in America. One cannot criticise intelligently books written from their standpoint, unless one knows how the authors came by their doctrine and out of what it has been developed.
63. CRITICAL EMPIRICISM.—We have seen that the trouble with the rationalists seemed to be that they made an appeal to "eternal truths," which those who followed them could not admit to be eternal truths at all. They proceeded on a basis of assumptions the validity of which was at once called in question.
Locke, the empiricist, repudiated91 all this, and then also made assumptions which others could not, and cannot, approve. Kant did something of much the same sort; we cannot regard his "criticism" as wholly critical.
How can we avoid such errors? How walk cautiously, and go around the pit into which, as it seems to us, others have fallen? I may as well tell the reader frankly that he sets his hope too high if he expects to avoid all error and to work out for himself a philosophy in all respects unassailable. The difficulties of reflective thought are very great, and we should carry with us a consciousness of that fact and a willingness to revise our most cherished conclusions.
Our initial difficulty seems to be that we must begin by assuming something, if only as material upon which to work. We must begin our philosophizing somewhere. Where shall we begin? May we not fall into error at the very outset?
The doctrine set forth92 in the earlier chapters of this volume maintains that we must accept as our material the revelation of the mind and the world which seems to be made in our common experience, and which is extended and systematized in the sciences. But it insists that we must regard such an acceptance as merely provisional, must subject our concepts to a careful criticism, and must always be on our guard against hasty assumptions.
It emphasizes the value of the light which historical study casts upon the real meaning of the concepts which we all use and must use, but which have so often proved to be stones of stumbling in the path of those who have employed them. Its watchword is analysis, always analysis; and a settled distrust of what have so often passed as "self-evident" truths. It regards it as its task to analyze93 experience, while maintaining that only the satisfactory carrying out of such an analysis can reveal what experience really is, and clear our notions of it from misinterpretations.
No such attempt to give an account of experience can be regarded as fundamentally new in its method. Every philosopher, in his own way, criticises experience, and seeks its interpretation94. But one may, warned by the example of one's predecessors95, lay emphasis upon the danger of half-analyses and hasty assumptions, and counsel the observance of sobriety and caution.
For convenience, I have called the doctrine Critical Empiricism. I warn the reader against the seductive title, and advise him not to allow it to influence him unduly96 in his judgment65 of the doctrine.
64. PRAGMATISM.—It seems right that I should, before closing this chapter, say a few words about Pragmatism, which has been so much discussed in the last few years.
In 1878 Mr. Charles S. Peirce wrote an article for the Popular Science Monthly in which he proposed as a maxim97 for the attainment98 of clearness of apprehension99 the following: "Consider what effects, which might conceivably have practical bearings, we conceive the object of our conception to have. Then, our conception of these effects is the whole of our conception of the object."
This thought has been taken up by others and given a development which Mr. Peirce regards with some suspicion. He refers[4] especially to the development it has received at the hands of Professor William James, in his two essays, "The Will to Believe" and "Philosophical Conceptions and Practical Results." [5] Professor James is often regarded as foremost among the pragmatists.
I shall not attempt to define pragmatism, for I do not believe that the doctrine has yet attained to that definiteness of formulation which warrants a definition. We seem to have to do not so much with a clear-cut doctrine, the limits and consequences of which have been worked out in detail, as with a tendency which makes itself apparent in the works of various writers under somewhat different forms.
I may roughly describe it as the tendency to take that to be true which is useful or serviceable. It is well illustrated100 in the two essays to which reference is made above.
Thus, Professor James dwells upon the unsatisfactoriness and uncertainty101 of philosophical and scientific knowledge: "Objective evidence and certitude are doubtless very fine ideals to play with, but where on this moonlit and dream-visited planet are they found?"
Now, among those things regarding which it appears impossible to attain to intellectual certitude, there are matters of great practical moment, and which affect deeply the conduct of life; for example, the doctrines102 of religion. Here a merely skeptical103 attitude seems intolerable.
In such cases, argues Professor James, "we have the right to believe at our own risk any hypothesis that is live enough to tempt22 our will."
It is important to notice that there is no question here of a logical right. We are concerned with matters regarding which, according to Professor James, we cannot look for intellectual evidence. It is assumed that we believe simply because we choose to believe—we believe arbitrarily.
It is further important to notice that what is a "live" hypothesis to one man need not tempt the will of another man at all. As our author points out, a Turk would naturally will to believe one thing and a Christian104 would will to believe another. Each would will to believe what struck him as a satisfactory thing to believe.
What shall we say to this doctrine? I think we must say that it is clearly not a philosophical method of attaining105 to truth. Hence, it has not properly a place in this chapter among the attempts which have been made to attain to the truth of things.
It is, in fact, not concerned with truths, but with assumptions, and with assumptions which are supposed to be made on the basis of no evidence. It is concerned with "seemings."
The distinction is a very important one. Our Turk cannot, by willing to believe it, make his hypothesis true; but he can make it seem true. Why should he wish to make it seem true whether it is true or not? Why should he strive to attain to a feeling of subjective106 certainty, not by logically resolving his doubts, but by ignoring them?
The answer is given us by our author. He who lives in the midst of doubts, and refuses to cut his knot with the sword of belief, misses the good of life. This is a practical problem, and one of no small moment. In the last section of this book I have tried to indicate what it is wise for a man to do when he is confronted by doubts which he cannot resolve.
Into the general question whether even a false belief may not, under some circumstances, be more serviceable than no belief at all, I shall not enter. The point I wish to emphasize is that there is all the difference in the world between producing a belief and proving a truth.
We are compelled to accept it as a fact that men, under the influence of feeling, can believe in the absence of evidence, or, for that matter, can believe in spite of evidence. But a truth cannot be established in the absence of evidence or in the face of adverse107 evidence. And there is a very wide field in which it is made very clear to us that beliefs adopted in the absence of evidence are in danger of being false beliefs.
The pragmatist would join with the rest of us in condemning108 the Turk or the Christian who would simply will to believe in the rise or the fall of stocks, and would refuse to consult the state of the market. Some hypotheses are, in the ordinary course of events, put to the test of verification. We are then made painfully aware that beliefs and truths are quite distinct things, and may not be in harmony.
Now, the pragmatist does not apply his principle to this field. He confines it to what may not inaptly be called the field of the unverifiable. The Turk, who wills to believe in the hypothesis that appeals to him as a pious109 Turk, is in no such danger of a rude awakening110 as is the man who wills to believe that stocks will go up or down. But mark what this means: it means that he is not in danger of finding out what the truth really is. It does not mean that he is in possession of the truth.
So I say, the doctrine which we are discussing is not a method of attaining to truth. What it really attempts to do is to point out to us how it is prudent111 for us to act when we cannot discover what the truth is.[6]
[1] "An Essay concerning Human Understanding," Book II, Chapter I, section 2.
[2] Book I, Chapter I, section 4.
[3] Book I, Chapter I, section 1.
[4] "Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology," article "Pragmatism."
[5] Published in 1897 and 1898.
[6] For references to later developments of pragmatism, see the note on page 312.
点击收听单词发音
1 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 deductions | |
扣除( deduction的名词复数 ); 结论; 扣除的量; 推演 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 akin | |
adj.同族的,类似的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 reconstruction | |
n.重建,再现,复原 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 repudiate | |
v.拒绝,拒付,拒绝履行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 deluded | |
v.欺骗,哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 uncertainties | |
无把握( uncertainty的名词复数 ); 不确定; 变化不定; 无把握、不确定的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 sickle | |
n.镰刀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 overthrown | |
adj. 打翻的,推倒的,倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 criticise | |
v.批评,评论;非难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 tempt | |
vt.引诱,勾引,吸引,引起…的兴趣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 animates | |
v.使有生气( animate的第三人称单数 );驱动;使栩栩如生地动作;赋予…以生命 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 skeptic | |
n.怀疑者,怀疑论者,无神论者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 innate | |
adj.天生的,固有的,天赋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 boundless | |
adj.无限的;无边无际的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 derives | |
v.得到( derive的第三人称单数 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 erratic | |
adj.古怪的,反复无常的,不稳定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 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… | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 condemn | |
vt.谴责,指责;宣判(罪犯),判刑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 epithet | |
n.(用于褒贬人物等的)表述形容词,修饰语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 imprints | |
n.压印( imprint的名词复数 );痕迹;持久影响 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 annihilate | |
v.使无效;毁灭;取消 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 generalizations | |
一般化( generalization的名词复数 ); 普通化; 归纳; 概论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 vouchsafed | |
v.给予,赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 );允诺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 rigor | |
n.严酷,严格,严厉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 undue | |
adj.过分的;不适当的;未到期的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 stoics | |
禁欲主义者,恬淡寡欲的人,不以苦乐为意的人( stoic的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 strenuously | |
adv.奋发地,费力地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 ripened | |
v.成熟,使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 systematic | |
adj.有系统的,有计划的,有方法的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 circumspection | |
n.细心,慎重 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 judgments | |
判断( judgment的名词复数 ); 鉴定; 评价; 审判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 muster | |
v.集合,收集,鼓起,激起;n.集合,检阅,集合人员,点名册 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 vouched | |
v.保证( vouch的过去式和过去分词 );担保;确定;确定地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 sifted | |
v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 );筛滤;细查;详审 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 travail | |
n.阵痛;努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 discoursing | |
演说(discourse的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 perplexed | |
adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 meddling | |
v.干涉,干预(他人事务)( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 synthetic | |
adj.合成的,人工的;综合的;n.人工制品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 alludes | |
提及,暗指( allude的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 demur | |
v.表示异议,反对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 susceptible | |
adj.过敏的,敏感的;易动感情的,易受感动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 unreasonable | |
adj.不讲道理的,不合情理的,过度的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 relatively | |
adv.比较...地,相对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 realization | |
n.实现;认识到,深刻了解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 speculative | |
adj.思索性的,暝想性的,推理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 dispense | |
vt.分配,分发;配(药),发(药);实施 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 repudiated | |
v.(正式地)否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 );拒绝接受;拒绝与…往来;拒不履行(法律义务) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 analyze | |
vt.分析,解析 (=analyse) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 predecessors | |
n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 );前辈;(被取代的)原有事物;前身 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 unduly | |
adv.过度地,不适当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 maxim | |
n.格言,箴言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 attainment | |
n.达到,到达;[常pl.]成就,造诣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 illustrated | |
adj. 有插图的,列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 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: |
|
|
103 skeptical | |
adj.怀疑的,多疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 attaining | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的现在分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 subjective | |
a.主观(上)的,个人的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 adverse | |
adj.不利的;有害的;敌对的,不友好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 condemning | |
v.(通常因道义上的原因而)谴责( condemn的现在分词 );宣判;宣布…不能使用;迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 pious | |
adj.虔诚的;道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |