The salon itself did not form any component14 part of Max Schurz’s own private residence in any way. The great Socialist2, the man whose mandates15 shook the thrones of Russia and Austria, whose movements spread terror in Paris and Berlin, whose dictates16 were even obeyed in Kerry and in Chicago, occupied for his own use two small rooms at the top of a shabby composite tenement17 in a doubtful district of Marylebone. The little parlour where he carried on his trade of a microscope-lens grinder would not have sufficed to hold one-tenth of the eager half-washed crowd that pressed itself enthusiastically upon him every Sunday. But a large room on the ground floor of the tenement, opening towards the main street, was used during the week by one of his French refugee friends as a dancing-saloon; and in this room on every Sunday evening the uncrowned king of the proletariate Socialists was permitted to hold his royal levees. Thither18 all that was best and truest in the socially rebellions classes domiciled in London used to make its way; and there men calmly talked over the ultimate chances of social revolutions which would have made the hair of respectable Philistine19 Marylebone stand stiffly on end, had it only known the rank political heresies20 that were quietly hatching in its unconscious midst.
While Max Schurz’s hall was rapidly filling with the polyglot21 crowd of democratic solidarists, Ernest Le Breton and his brother were waiting in the chilly23 little drawing-room at Epsilon Terrace, Bayswater, for the expected arrival of Harry24 Oswald. Ernest had promised to introduce Oswald to Max Schurz’s reception; and it was now past eight o’clock, getting rather a late hour for those simple-minded, early-rising Communists. ‘I’m afraid, Herbert,’ said Ernest to his brother, ‘he forgets that Max is a working-man who has to be at his trade again punctually by seven o’clock to-morrow. He thinks he’s going out to a regular society At Home, where ten o’clock’s considered just the beginning of the evening. Max won’t at all like his turning up so late; it smells of non-productivity.’
‘If Herr Schurz wants to convert the world,’ Herbert answered chillily, rolling himself a tiny cigarette, ‘he must convince the unproductive as well as the proletariate before he can set things fairly on the roll for better arrangement. The proletariate’s all very well in its way, no doubt, but the unproductive happen to hold the key of the situation. One convert like you or me is worth a thousand ignorant East-end labourers, with nothing but their hands and their votes to count upon.’
‘But you are not a convert, Herbert.’
‘I didn’t say I was. I’m a critic. There’s no necessity to throw oneself open-armed into the embrace of either party. The wise man can wait and watch the progress of the game, backing the winner for the time being at all the critical moments, and hedging if necessary when the chances turn momentarily against the favourite. There’s a ring at the bell: that’s Oswald; let’s go down to the door to meet him.’
Ernest ran down the stairs rapidly, as was his wont25; Herbert followed in a more leisurely26 fashion, still rolling the cigarette between his delicate finger and thumb. ‘Goodness gracious, Oswald!’ Ernest exclaimed as his friend stepped in, ‘why, you’ve actually come in evening dress! A white tie and all! What on earth will Max say? He’ll be perfectly27 scandalised at such a shocking and unprecedented28 outrage29. This will never do; you must dissemble somehow or other.’
Oswald laughed. ‘I had no idea,’ he said, ‘Herr Schurz was such a truculent30 sans-culotte as that comes to. As it was an evening reception I thought, of course, one ought to turn up in evening clothes.’
‘Evening clothes! My dear fellow, how on earth do you suppose a set of poor Leicester Square outlaws31 are going to get themselves correctly set up in black broadcloth coats and trousers? They might wash their white ties themselves, to be sure; they mostly do their own washing, I believe, in their own basins.’ (‘And not much at that either,’ put in Herbert, parenthetically.) ‘But as to evening clothes, why, they’d as soon think of arraying themselves for dinner in full court dress as of putting on an obscurantist swallow-tail. It’s the badge of a class, a distinct aristocratic outrage; we must alter it at once, I assure you, Oswald.’
‘At any rate,’ said Oswald laughing, ‘I’ve had the pleasure of finding myself accused for the first time in the course of my existence of being aristocratic. It’s quite worth while going to Max Schurz’s once in one’s life, if it were only for the sake of that single new sensation.’
‘Well, my dear fellow, we must rectify33 you, anyhow, before you go. Let me see; luckily you’ve got your dust-coat on, and you needn’t take that off; it’ll do splendidly to hide your coat and waistcoat. I’ll lend you a blue tie, which will at once transform your upper man entirely34. But you show the cloven hoof35 below; the trousers will surely betray you. They’re absolutely inadmissible under any circumstances whatsoever36, as the Court Circular says, and you must positively37 wear a coloured pair of Herbert’s instead of them. Run upstairs quickly, there’s a good fellow, and get rid of the mark of the Beast as fast as you can.’
Oswald did as he was told without demur38, and in about a minute more presented himself again, with the mark of the Beast certainly most effectually obliterated39, at least so far as outer appearance went. His blue tie, light dust-coat, and borrowed grey trousers, made up an ensemble40 much more like an omnibus conductor out for a holiday than a gentleman of the period in correct evening dress. ‘Now mind,’ Ernest said seriously, as he opened the door, ‘whatever you do, Oswald, if you stew41 to death for it—and Schurz’s rooms are often very close and hot, I can assure you—don’t for heaven’s sake go and unbutton your dust-coat. If you do they’ll see at once you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I shouldn’t be at all surprised if they were to turn and rend42 you. At least, I’m sure Max would be very much annoyed with me for unsocially introducing a plutocratic43 traitor44 into the bosom45 of the fold.’
They walked along briskly in the direction of Marylebone, and stopped at last at a dull, yellow-washed house, which bore on its door a very dingy46 brass47 plate, inscribed48 in red letters, ‘M. et Mdlle. Tirard. Salon de Danse.’ Ernest opened the door without ringing, and turned down the passage towards the salon. ‘Remember,’ he said, turning to Harry Oswald by way of a last warning, with his hand on the inner door-handle, ‘co?te que co?te, my dear fellow, don’t on any account open your dust-coat. No anti-social opinions; and please bear in mind that Max is, in his own way, a potentate49.’
The big hall, badly lighted by a few contribution candles (for the whole colony subscribed50 to the best of its ability for the support of the weekly entertainment), was all alive with eager figures and the mingled51 busy hum of earnest conversation. A few chairs ranged round the wall were mostly occupied by Mdlle. Tirard and the other ladies of the Socialist party; but the mass of the guests were men, and they were almost all smoking, in utter indifference52 to the scanty53 presence of the fair sex. Not that they were intentionally54 rude or boorish55; that they never were; except where an emperor or an aristocrat32 is concerned, there is no being on earth more courteous56, kindly57, and considerate for the feelings of others than your exiled Socialist. He has suffered much himself in his own time, and so miseris succurrere discit. Emperors he mentally classes with cobras, tarantulas, and scorpions58, as outside the pale of humanitarian59 sympathies altogether; but, with this slight political exception, he is the broadest and tenderest and most catholic in his feelings of all living breathing creatures. However, the ladies of his party have all been brought up from their childhood onward60 in a mingled atmosphere of smoke and democracy; so that he no more thinks of abstaining61 from tobacco in their presence than he thinks of commiserating62 the poor fish for being so dreadfully wet, or the unfortunate mole63 for his unpleasantly slimy diet of live earthworms.
‘Herr Schurz,’ said Ernest, singling out the great leader in the gloom immediately, ‘I’ve brought my brother Herbert here, whom you know already, to see you, as well as another Oxford64 friend of mind, Mr. Harry Oswald, Fellow and Lecturer of Oriel. He’s almost one of us at heart, I’m happy to say, and at any rate I’m sure you’ll be glad to make his acquaintance.’
The little spare wizened-up grey man, in the threadbare brown velveteen jacket, who stood in the middle of the hall, caught Ernest’s hand warmly, and held it for a moment fettered65 in his iron grip. There was an honesty in that grip and in those hazy66 blue-spectacled eyes that nobody could for a second misunderstand. If an emperor had been introduced to Max Schurz he might have felt a little abashed67 one minute at the old Socialist’s royal disdain68, but he could not have failed to say to himself as he looked at him from head to foot, ‘Here, at least, is a true man.’ So Harry Oswald felt, as the spare grey thinker took his hand in his, and grasped it firmly with a kindly pressure, but less friendly than that with which he had greeted his known admirer, Ernest Le Breton. As for Herbert, he merely bowed to him politely from a little distance; and Herbert, who had picked up at once with a Polish exile in a corner, returned the bow frigidly70 without coming up to the host himself at all for a moment’s welcome.
‘I’m always pleased to meet friends of the cause from Oxford,’ Herr Schurz said, in almost perfect English. ‘We want recruits most of all among the thinking classes. If we are ever to make headway against the banded monopolies—against the place-holders, the land-grabbers, the labour-taxers, the robbers of the poor—we must first secure the perfect undivided confidence of the brain-workers, the thinkers, and the writers. At present everything is against us; we are but a little leaven71, trying vainly in our helpless fashion to leaven the whole lump. The capitalist journals carry off all the writing talent in the world; they are timid, as capital must always be; they tremble for their tens of thousands a year, and their vast circulations among the propertied classes. We cannot get at the heart of the people, save by the Archimedean lever of the thinking world. For that reason, my dear Le Breton, I am always glad to muster72 here your Oxford neophytes.’
‘And yet, Herr Schurz,’ said Ernest gently, ‘you know we must not after all despair. Look at the history of your own people! When the cause of Jehovah seemed most hopeless, there were still seven thousand left in Israel who had not bowed the knee to Baal. We are gaining strength every day, while they are losing it.’
‘Ah yes, my friend. I know that too,’ the old man answered, with a solemn shake of the head; ‘but the wheels move slowly, they move slowly—very surely, but oh, so slowly. You are young, friend Ernest, and I am growing old. You look forward to the future with hope; I look back to the past with regret: so many years gone, so little, so very little done. It will come, it will come as surely as the next glacial period, but I shall not live to see it. I stand like Moses on Pisgah; I see the promised land before me; I look down upon the equally allotted73 vineyards, and the glebe flowing with milk and honey in the distance; but I shall not lead you into it; I shall not even lead you against the Canaanites; another than I must lead you in. But I am an old man, Mr. Oswald, an old man now, and I am talking all about myself—an anti-social trick we have inherited from our fathers. What is your friend’s special line at Oxford, did you say, Ernest?’
‘Oswald is a mathematician74, sir,’ said Ernest, ‘perhaps the greatest mathematician among the younger men in the whole University.’
‘Ah! that is well. We want exact science. We want clear and definite thinking. Biologists and physicists75 and mathematicians76, those are our best recruits, you may depend upon it. We need logic77, not mere69 gas. Our French friends and our Irish friends—I have nothing in the world to say against them; they are useful men, ardent78 men, full of fire, full of enthusiasm, ready to do and dare anything—but they lack ballast. You can’t take the kingdom of heaven by storm. The social revolution is not to be accomplished79 by violence, it is not even to be carried by the most vivid eloquence80; the victory will be in the end to the clearest brain and the subtlest intellect. The orthodox political economists81 are clever sophists; they mask and confuse the truth very speciously82; we must have keen eyes and sharp noses to spy out and scent83 out their tortuous84 fallacies. I’m glad you’re a mathematician, Mr. Oswald. And so you have thought on social problems?’
‘I have read “Gold and the Proletariate,”’ Oswald answered modestly, ‘and I learned much from it, and thought more. I won’t say you have quite converted me, Herr Schurz, but you have given me plenty of food for future reflection.’
‘That is well, said the old man, passing one skinny brown hand gently up and down over the other. ‘That is well. There’s no hurry. Don’t make up your mind too fast. Don’t jump at conclusions. It’s intellectual dishonesty to do that. Wait till you have convinced yourself. Spell out your problems slowly; they are not easy ones; try to see how the present complex system works; try to probe its inequalities and injustices85; try to compare it with the ideal commonwealth86: and you’ll find the light in the end, you’ll find the light.’
As he spoke87, Herbert Le Breton lounged up quietly from his farther corner towards the little group. ‘Ah, your brother, Ernest!’ said Max Schurz, drawing himself up a little more stiffly; ‘he has found the light already, I believe, but he neglects it; still he is not with us, and he that is not with us is against us. You hold aloof88 always, Mr. Herbert, is it not so?’
‘Well, not quite aloof, Herr Schurz, I’m certain, but not on your side exactly either. I like to look on and hold the balance evenly, not to throw my own weight too lightly into either stale. The objective attitude of the mere spectator is after all the right one for an impartial89 philosopher to take up.’
‘Ah, Mr. Herbert, this philosophy of your Oxford contemplative Radicals is only another name for a kind of social selfishness, I fancy,’ said the old man solemnly. ‘It seems to me your head is with us, but your heart, your heart is elsewhere.’
Herbert Le Breton played a moment quietly with the Roman aureus of Domitian on his watch-chain; then he said slowly in his clear cold voice, ‘There may be something in that, no doubt, Herr Schurz, for each of us has his own game to play, and while the world remains90 unreformed, he must play it on his own gambit to a great extent, without reference to the independent game of others. We all agree that the board is too full of counters, and as each counter is not responsible for its own presence and position on the board, having been put there without previous consultation91 by the players, we must each do the best we can for ourselves in our own fashion. My sympathies, as you say, are on your side, but perhaps my interests lie the other way, and after all, till you start your millennium92, we must all rattle93 along as well as we can in the box together, jarring against one another in our old ugly round of competition, and supply and demand, and survival of the fittest, and mutual94 accommodation, and all the rest of it, to the end of the chapter. Every man for himself and God for us all, you know. You have the logic, to be sure, Herr Schurz, but the monopolists have the law and the money.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said the old Socialist grimly; ‘Demas, Demas; he and his silver mine; you remember your Bunyan, don’t you? Well, all faiths and systems have their Demases. The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches. He’s bursar of his college, isn’t he, Ernest? I thought so. “He had the bag, and bare what was put therein.” A dangerous office, isn’t it, Mr. Oswald? A very dangerous office. You can’t touch pitch or property without being defiled95.’
‘You at least, sir, said Ernest, reverentially, ‘have kept yourself unspotted from the world.’
The old man sighed, and turned for a moment to speak in French to a tall, big-bearded new-comer who advanced to meet him. ‘Impossible!’ he said quickly; ‘I am truly distressed96 to hear it. It is very imprudent, very unnecessary.’
‘What is the news?’ asked Ernest, also in French.
The new-comer answered him with a marked South Russian accent. ‘There has been another attempt on the life of Alexander Nicolaiovitch.’
‘You don’t mean to say so!’ cried Ernest in surprise.
‘Yes, I do,’ replied the Russian, ‘and it has nearly succeeded too.’
‘An attempt on whom?’ asked Oswald, who was new to the peculiar97 vocabulary of the Socialists, and not particularly accustomed to following spoken French.
‘On Alexander Nicolaiovitch,’ answered the red-bearded stranger.
‘Not the Czar?’ Oswald inquired of Ernest.
‘Yes, the one whom you call Czar,’ said the stranger, quickly, in tolerable English. The confusion of tongues seemed to be treated as a small matter at Max Schurz’s receptions, for everybody appeared to speak all languages at once, in the true spirit of solidarity98, as though Babel had never been.
Oswald did not attempt to conceal99 a slight gesture of horror. The tall Russian looked down upon him commiseratingly. ‘He is of the Few?’ he asked of Ernest, that being the slang of the initiated100 for a member of the aristocratic and capitalist oligarchy101.
‘Not exactly,’ Ernest answered with a smile; ‘but he has not entirely learned the way we here regard these penal102 measures. His sympathies are one-sided as to Alexander, no doubt. He thinks merely of the hunted, wretched life the man bears about with him, and he forgets poor bleeding, groaning103, down-trodden, long-suffering Russia. It is the common way of Englishmen. They do not realise Siberia and Poland and the Third Section, and all the rest of it; they think only of Alexander as of the benevolent104 despot who freed the serf and befriended the Bulgarian. They never remember that they have all the freedom and privileges themselves which you poor Russians ask for in vain; they do not bear in mind that he has only to sign his name to a constitution, a very little constitution, and he might walk abroad as light-hearted in St. Petersburg to-morrow as you and I walk in Regent Street to-day. We are mostly lopsided, we English, but you must bear with us in our obliquity105; we have had freedom ourselves so long that we hardly know how to make due allowance for those unfortunate folks who are still in search of it.’
‘If you had an Alexander yourselves for half a day,’ the Russian said fiercely, turning to Oswald, ‘you would soon see the difference. You would forget your virtuous106 indignation against Nihilist assassins in the white heat of your anger against unendurable tyranny. You had a King Charles in England once—the mere shadow of a Russian Czar—and you were not so very ceremonious with him, you order-loving English, after all.’
‘It is a foolish thing, Borodinsky,’ said Max Schurz, looking up from the long telegram the other had handed him, ‘and I told Toroloff as much a fortnight ago, when he spoke to me about the matter. You can do no good by these constant attacks, and you only rouse the minds of the oligarchy against you by your importunity107. Bloodshed will avail us nothing; the world cannot be regenerated108 by a baptism like that. Every peasant won over, every student enrolled109, every mother engaged to feed her little ones on the gospel of Socialism together with her own milk, is worth a thousand times more to us and to the people than a dead Czar. If your friends had really blown him up, what then? You would have had another Czar, and another Third Section, and another reign110 of terror, and another raid and massacre111; and we should have lost twenty good men from our poor little side for ever. We must not waste the salt of the earth in that reckless fashion. Besides, I don’t like this dynamite112. It’s a bad argument, it smacks113 too much of the old royal and repressive method. You know the motto Louis Quatorze used to cast on his bronze cannon—“Ultima ratio regum.” Well, we Socialists ought to be able to find better logic for our opponents than that, oughtn’t we?’
‘But in Russia,’ cried the bearded man hotly, ‘in poor stricken-down groaning Russia, what other argument have they left us? Are we to be hunted to death without real law or trial, tortured into sham114 confessions115, deluded116 with mock pardons, arraigned117 before hypocritical tribunals, ensnared by all the chicanery118, and lying, and treachery, and ferreting of the false bureaucracy, with its spies, and its bloodhounds, and its knout-bearing police-agents; and then are we not to make war the only way we can—open war, mind you, with fair declaration, and due formalities, and proper warning beforehand—against the irresponsible autocrat119 and his wire-pulled office-puppets who kill us off mercilessly? You are too hard upon us, Herr Schurz; even you yourself have no sympathy at all for unhappy Russia.’
The old man looked up at him tenderly and regretfully. ‘My poor Borodinsky,’ he said in a gentle tremulous voice, ‘I have indeed sympathy and pity in abundance for you. I do not blame you; you will have enough and to spare to do that, even here in free England; I would not say a harsh word against you or your terrible methods for all the world. You have been hard-driven, and you stand at bay like tigers. But I think you are going to work the wrong way, not using your energies to the best possible advantage for the proletariate. What we have really got to do is to gain over every man, woman, and child of the working-classes individually, and to array on our side all the learning and intellect and economical science of the thinking classes individually; and then we can present such a grand united front to the banded monopolists that for very shame they will not dare to gainsay120 us. Indeed, if it comes to that, we can leave them quietly alone, till for pure hunger they will come and beg our assistance. When we have enticed121 away all the workmen from their masters to our co-operative factories, the masters may keep their rusty122 empty mills and looms123 and engines to themselves as long as they like, but they must come to us in the end, and ask us to give them the bread they used to refuse us. For my part, I would kill no man and rob no man; but I would let no man kill or rob another either.’
‘And how about Alexander Nicolaiovitch, then?’ persisted the Russian, eagerly. ‘Has he killed none in his loathsome124 prisons and in his Siberian quicksilver mines? Has he robbed none of their own hardly got earnings125 by his poisoned vodki and his autocratically imposed taxes and imposts? Who gave him an absolute hereditary126 right to put us to death, to throw us in prison, to take our money from us against our will and without our leave, to treat us as if we existed, body and soul, and wives and children, only as chattels127 for the greater glory of his own orthodox imperial majesty128? If we may justly slay129 the highway robber who meets us, arms in hand, in the outskirts130 of the city, and demands of us our money or our life, may we not justly slay Alexander Nicolaiovitch, who comes to our homes in the person of his tax-gatherers to take the bread out of our children’s mouths and to help himself to whatever he chooses by the divine right of his Romanoff heirship131? I tell you, Herr Max, we may blamelessly lie in wait for him wherever we find him, and whoso says us nay132 is siding with the wolf against the lambs, with the robber and the slayer133 against the honest representative of right and justice.’
‘I never met a Nihilist before,’ said Oswald to Ernest, in a half-undertone,’ and it never struck me to think what they might have to say for themselves from their own side of the question.’
‘That’s one of the uses of coming here to Herr Schurz’s,’ Ernest answered quickly. ‘You may not agree with all you hear, but at least you learn to see others as they see themselves; whereas if you mix always in English society, and read only English papers, you will see them only as we English see them.’
‘But just fancy,’ Oswald went on, as they both stood back a little to make way for others who wished for interviews with the great man, ‘just fancy that this Borodinsky, or whatever his name may be, has himself very likely helped in dynamite plots, or manufactured nitro-glycerine cartridges134 to blow up the Czar; and yet we stand here talking with him as coolly as if he were an ordinary respectable innocent Englishman.’
‘What of that?’ Ernest answered, smiling. ‘Didn’t we meet Prince Strelinoffsky at Oriel last term, and didn’t we talk with him too, as if he was an honest, hard-working, bread-earning Christian135? and yet we knew he was a member of the St. Petersburg office clique136, and at the bottom of half the trouble in Poland for the last ten years or so. Grant even that Borodinsky is quite wrong in his way of dealing137 with noxious138 autocrats139, and yet which do you think is the worst criminal of the two—he with his little honest glazier’s shop in a back slum of Paddington, or Strelinoffsky with his jewelled fingers calmly signing accursed warrants to send childing Polish women to die of cold and hunger and ill-treatment on the way to Siberia?’
‘Well, really, Le Breton, you know I’m a passably good Radical10, but you’re positively just one stage too Radical even for me.’
‘Come here oftener,’ answered Ernest; ‘and perhaps you’ll begin to think a little differently about some things.’
An hour later in the evening Max Schurz found Ernest alone in a quiet corner. ‘One moment, my dear Le Breton,’ he said; ‘you know I always like to find out all about people’s political antecedents; it helps one to fathom140 the potentialities of their characters. From what social stratum141, now, do we get your clever friend, Mr. Oswald?’
‘His father’s a petty tradesman in a country town in Devonshire, I believe,’ Ernest answered; ‘and he himself is a good general democrat22, without any very pronounced socialistic colouring.’
‘A petty tradesman! Hum, I thought so. He has rather the mental bearing and equipment of a man from the petite bourgeoisie. I have been talking to him, and drawing him out. Clever, very, and with good instincts, but not wholly and entirely sound. A fibre wrong somewhere, socially speaking, a false note suspected in his ideas of life; too much acquiescence142 in the thing that is, and too little faith or enthusiasm for the thing that ought to be. But we shall make something of him yet. He has read “Gold” and understands it. That is already a beginning. Bring him again. I shall always be glad to see him here.’
‘I will,’ said Ernest, ‘and I believe the more you know him, Herr Max, the better you will like him.’
‘And what did you think of the sons of the prophets?’ asked Herbert Le Breton of Oswald as they left the salon at the close of the reception.
‘Frankly speaking,’ answered Oswald, looking half aside at Ernest, ‘I didn’t quite care for all of them—the Nihilists and Communards took my breath away at first; but as to Max Schurz himself I think there can be only one opinion possible about him.’
‘And that is——?’
‘That he’s a magnificent old man, with a genuine apostolic inspiration. I don’t care twopence whether he is right or wrong, but he’s a perfectly splendid old fellow, as honest and transparent143 as the day’s long. He believes in it all, and would give his life for it freely, if he thought he could forward the cause a single inch by doing it.’
‘You’re quite right,’ said Herbert calmly. ‘He’s an Elijah thrown blankly upon these prosaic144 latter days; and what’s more, his gospel’s all true; but it doesn’t matter a sou to you or me, for it will never come about in our time, no nor for a century after. “Post nos millennium.” So what on earth’s the good of our troubling our poor overworked heads about it?’
‘He’s the only really great man I ever knew,’ said Ernest enthusiastically, ‘and I consider that his friendship’s the one thing in my life that has been really and truly worth living for. If a pessimist145 were to ask me what was the use of human existence, I should give him a card of introduction to go to Max Schurz’s.’
‘Excuse my interrupting your rhapsody, Ernest,’ Herbert put in blandly146, ‘but will you have your own trousers tonight, Oswald, or will you wear mine back to your lodgings147 now, and I’ll send one of the servants round with yours for them in the morning?’
‘Thanks,’ said Harry Oswald, slapping the sides of the unopened dust-coat; ‘I think I’ll go home as I am at present, and I’ll recover the marks of the Beast again to-morrow. You see, I didn’t betray my evening waistcoat after all, now did I?’
And they parted at the corner, each of them going his own way in his own mood and manner.
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socialists
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| 社会主义者( socialist的名词复数 ) | |
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socialist
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| n.社会主义者；adj.社会主义的 | |
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cosmopolitan
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| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
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disciples
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| 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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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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artistic
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adherents
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chambers
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philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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radical
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radicals
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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component
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| n.组成部分，成分，元件；adj.组成的，合成的 | |
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15
mandates
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| 托管（mandate的第三人称单数形式） | |
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16
dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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17
tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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18
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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19
philistine
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| n.庸俗的人；adj.市侩的，庸俗的 | |
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20
heresies
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| n.异端邪说，异教( heresy的名词复数 ) | |
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21
polyglot
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| adj.通晓数种语言的；n.通晓多种语言的人 | |
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22
democrat
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
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23
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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24
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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25
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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26
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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28
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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29
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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30
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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31
outlaws
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| 歹徒，亡命之徒( outlaw的名词复数 )； 逃犯 | |
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32
aristocrat
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| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
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33
rectify
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| v.订正，矫正，改正 | |
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34
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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35
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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36
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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37
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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38
demur
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| v．表示异议，反对 | |
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39
obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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40
ensemble
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| n.合奏(唱)组；全套服装；整体，总效果 | |
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41
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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43
plutocratic
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| adj.富豪的，有钱的 | |
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44
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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45
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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46
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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47
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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48
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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49
potentate
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| n.统治者；君主 | |
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50
subscribed
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| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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51
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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52
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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53
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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54
intentionally
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| ad.故意地，有意地 | |
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55
boorish
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| adj.粗野的，乡巴佬的 | |
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56
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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57
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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58
scorpions
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| n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
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59
humanitarian
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| n.人道主义者，博爱者，基督凡人论者 | |
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60
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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61
abstaining
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| 戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的现在分词 )； 弃权（不投票） | |
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62
commiserating
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| v.怜悯，同情( commiserate的现在分词 ) | |
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63
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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64
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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65
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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67
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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69
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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70
frigidly
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| adv.寒冷地；冷漠地；冷淡地；呆板地 | |
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71
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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72
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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73
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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75
physicists
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| 物理学家( physicist的名词复数 ) | |
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76
mathematicians
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| 数学家( mathematician的名词复数 ) | |
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77
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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78
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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79
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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80
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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81
economists
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| n.经济学家，经济专家( economist的名词复数 ) | |
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82
speciously
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| adv.似是而非地；外观好看地，像是真实地 | |
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83
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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84
tortuous
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|
| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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85
injustices
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| 不公平( injustice的名词复数 )； 非正义； 待…不公正； 冤枉 | |
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86
commonwealth
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| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
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87
spoke
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| 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 | |
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88
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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89
impartial
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| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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90
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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91
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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92
millennium
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| n.一千年，千禧年；太平盛世 | |
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93
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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94
mutual
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|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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95
defiled
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| v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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96
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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97
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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98
solidarity
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| n.团结；休戚相关 | |
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99
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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100
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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101
oligarchy
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| n.寡头政治 | |
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102
penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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103
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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104
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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105
obliquity
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| n.倾斜度 | |
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106
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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107
importunity
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| n.硬要，强求 | |
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108
regenerated
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| v.新生，再生( regenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
enrolled
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| adj.入学登记了的v.[亦作enrol]( enroll的过去式和过去分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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110
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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111
massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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112
dynamite
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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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113
smacks
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| 掌掴（声）( smack的名词复数 )； 海洛因； （打的）一拳； 打巴掌 | |
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114
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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115
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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116
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
arraigned
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| v.告发( arraign的过去式和过去分词 )；控告；传讯；指责 | |
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118
chicanery
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| n.欺诈，欺骗 | |
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119
autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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120
gainsay
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| v.否认，反驳 | |
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121
enticed
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| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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123
looms
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| n.织布机( loom的名词复数 )v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的第三人称单数 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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124
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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125
earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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126
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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127
chattels
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| n.动产，奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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128
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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129
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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130
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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131
heirship
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| n.继承权 | |
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132
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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133
slayer
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| n. 杀人者，凶手 | |
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134
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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135
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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136
clique
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| n.朋党派系，小集团 | |
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137
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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138
noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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139
autocrats
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| n.独裁统治者( autocrat的名词复数 )；独断专行的人 | |
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140
fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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141
stratum
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| n.地层，社会阶层 | |
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142
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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143
transparent
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|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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144
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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145
pessimist
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| n.悲观者；悲观主义者；厌世 | |
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146
blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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147
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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