Minister of Justice and President of the Council Barrot.
Finance Passy.
War Rulhière.
Navy Tracy.
Public Works Lacrosse.
Public Instruction Falloux.
Interior Dufaure.
Agriculture Lanjuinais.
Foreign Affairs Tocqueville.
Dufaure, Lanjuinais and I were the only new ministers; all the others had belonged to the previous Cabinet.
Passy was a man of real merit, but not of a very attractive merit. His mind was narrow, maladroit2, provoking, disparaging3 and ingenious rather than just. Nevertheless, he was more inclined to be just when it was really necessary to act than when it was only a question of talking; for he was more fond of paradox4 than liable to put it into practice. I never knew a greater talker, nor one who so easily[279] consoled himself for troublesome events by explaining the causes which had produced them and the consequences likely to ensue. When he had finished drawing the most sombre picture of the state of affairs, he concluded with a smiling and placid5 air, saying, "So that there is practically no means of saving ourselves, and we have only to look forward to the total overthrow6 of Society." In other respects he was a cultured and experienced minister; his courage and honesty were proof against everything; and he was as incapable7 of vacillation8 as of treachery. His ideas, his feelings, his former intimacy9 with Dufaure and, above all, his eager animosity against Thiers made us certain of him.
Rulhière would have belonged to the monarchic10 and ultra-conservative party if he had belonged to any, and especially if Changarnier had not been in the world; but he was a soldier who only thought of remaining Minister for War. We perceived at the first glance his extreme jealousy11 of the Commander-in-Chief of the Army in Paris; and the intimacy between the latter and the leaders of the majority, and his influence over the President, obliged Rulhière to throw himself into our arms, and forcibly drove him to depend upon us.
Tracy had by nature a weak character, which was, as it were, enclosed and confined in the very precise and systematic12 theories which he owed to the ideological13 education he had received from his father.[16][280] But, in the end, contact with every-day events and the shock of revolutions had worn out this rigid14 envelope, and all that remained was a wavering intelligence and a sluggish15, but always honest and kindly16, heart.
Lacrosse was a poor devil whose private affairs were more or less involved. The chances of the Revolution had driven him into office from an obscure corner of the Opposition17, and he never grew weary of the delight of being a minister. He gladly leant upon us, but he endeavoured at the same time to make sure of the good-will of the President of the Republic by rendering18 him all sorts of little services and small compliments. To tell the truth, it would have been difficult for him to recommend himself in any other way, for he was a rare nonentity19, and understood nothing about anything. We were reproached for taking office in company with such incapable ministers as Tracy and Lacrosse, and not without justice, for it was a great cause of ruin: not only because they did their work badly, but because their notorious insufficiency kept their succession always open, so to speak, and created a sort of permanent ministerial crisis.
As to Barrot, he adhered naturally to us from feeling and ideas. His old liberal associations, his republican tastes, his Opposition memories attached him to us. Had he been differently connected, he might have become, however regretfully, our adversary20; but, having him once among us, we were sure of him.[281]
Of all the Ministry, therefore, only Falloux was a stranger to us by his starting-point, his engagements, and his inclinations21. He alone represented the leaders of the majority on the Council, or rather he seemed to represent them, for in reality, as I will explain later, he represented, besides himself, nothing but the Church. This isolated22 position, together with the secret aims of his policy, drove him to seek support beyond us; he strove to establish it in the Assembly and with the President, but discreetly23 and cleverly, as he did everything.
Thus constituted, the Cabinet had one great weakness: it was about to govern with the aid of a composite majority, without itself being a coalition24 ministry. But, on the other hand, it possessed25 the very great strength which ministers derive26 from uniform origin, identical instincts, old bonds of friendship, mutual27 confidence, and common ends.
I shall doubtless be asked what these ends were, where we were going, what we wanted. We live in times so uncertain and so obscure that I should hesitate to reply to that question in the name of my colleagues; but I will readily reply for myself. I did not believe then, any more than I do now, that the republican form of government is the best suited to the needs of France. What I mean when I say the republican form of government, is the elective Executive Power. With a people among whom habit, tradition, custom have assured so great a place to the Executive Power, its instability will[282] always be, in periods of excitement, a cause of revolution, and in peaceful times, a cause of great uneasiness. Moreover, I have always considered the Republic an ill-balanced form of government, which always promised more, but gave less, liberty than the Constitutional Monarchy28. And yet I sincerely wished to maintain the Republic; and although there were, so to speak, no Republicans in France, I did not look upon the maintenance of it as absolutely impossible.
I wished to maintain it because I saw nothing ready or fit to set in its place. The old Dynasty was profoundly antipathetic to the majority of the country. Amid this flagging of all political passion, which was the result of the fatigue29 of the revolutions and their vain promises, one genuine passion remained alive in France: hatred30 of the Ancien Régime and mistrust of the old privileged classes who represented it in the eyes of the people. This sentiment passes through revolutions without dissolving in them, like the water of those marvellous fountains which, according to the ancients, passed across the waves of the sea without mixing with or disappearing in them. As to the Orleans Dynasty, the experience the people had had of it did not particularly incline them to return to it so soon. It was bound once more to throw into Opposition all the upper classes and the clergy31, and to separate itself from the people, as it had done before, leaving the cares and profits of government to those same[283] middle classes whom I had already seen during eighteen years so inadequate32 for the good government of France. Moreover, nothing was ready for its triumph.
Louis Napoleon alone was ready to take the place of the Republic, because he already held the power in his hands. But what could come of his success, except a bastard33 Monarchy, despised by the enlightened classes, hostile to liberty, governed by intriguers, adventurers, and valets?
The Republic was doubtless difficult to maintain; for those who favoured it were, for the most part, incapable or unworthy of governing it, while those who were fit to conduct it detested34 it. But it was also rather difficult to pull down. The hatred borne for it was an easy-going hatred, as were all the passions which the country then entertained. Besides, the Government was found fault with, but no other was loved in its place. Three parties, mutually irreconcilable35, more hostile to one another than either of them was to the Republic, contended with each other for the future. As to a majority, there was no such thing.
I thought, therefore, that the Government of the Republic, having existence in its favour, and having no adversaries36 except minorities difficult to coalesce37, would be able to maintain its position amid the inertia38 of the masses, if it was conducted with moderation and wisdom. For this reason, I was resolved not to lend myself to any steps that might[284] be taken against it, but rather to defend it. Almost all the members of the Council thought as I did. Dufaure believed more than I did in the soundness of republican institutions and in their future. Barrot was less inclined than I to keep them always respected; but we all wished at the present time firmly to maintain them. This common resolution was our political bond and standard.
So soon as the Ministry was formed, it repaired to the President of the Republic to hold a Council. It was the first time I had come into contact with him. I had only seen him at a distance at the time of the Constituent39 Assembly. He received us with politeness. It was all we could expect from him, for Dufaure had acted vigorously against him, and had spoken almost outrageously41 of his candidature no longer than six months ago, while both Lanjuinais and myself had openly voted for his opponent.
Louis Napoleon plays so great a part in the rest of my narrative42 that he seems to me to deserve a special portrait amid the host of contemporaries of whom I have been content to sketch43 the features. Of all his ministers, and perhaps of all the men who refused to take part in his conspiracy44 against the Republic, I was the one who was most advanced in his good graces, who saw him closest, and who was best able to judge him.
He was vastly superior to what his preceding career and his mad enterprises might very properly have led one to believe of him. This was my first[285] impression on conversing45 with him. In this respect he deceived his adversaries, and perhaps still more his friends, if this term can be applied46 to the politicians who patronized his candidature. The greater part of these, in fact, elected him, not because of his merits, but because of his presumed mediocrity. They expected to find in him an instrument which they could handle as they pleased, and which it would always be lawful47 for them to break when they wished to. In this they were greatly deceived.
As a private individual, Louis Napoleon possessed certain attractive qualities: an easy and kindly humour, a mind which was gentle, and even tender, without being delicate, great confidence in his intercourse48, perfect simplicity49, a certain personal modesty50 amidst the immense pride derived51 from his origin. He was capable of showing affection, and able to inspire it in those who approached him. His conversation was brief and unsuggestive. He had not the art of drawing others out or of establishing intimate relations with them; nor any facility in expressing his views. He had the writer's habit, and a certain amount of the author's self-love. His dissimulation52, which was the deep dissimulation of a man who has spent his life in plots, was assisted in a remarkable53 way by the immobility of his features and his want of expression: for his eyes were dull and opaque54, like the thick glass used to light the cabins of ships, which admits the light but cannot be seen through. Careless of danger, he possessed a fine, cool courage[286] in days of crisis; and at the same time—a common thing enough—he was very vacillating in his plans. He was often seen to change his direction, to advance, hesitate, draw back, to his great detriment55: for the nation had chosen him in order to dare all things, and what it expected from him was audacity56 and not prudence57. It was said that he had always been greatly addicted58 to pleasures, and not very dainty in his choice of them. This passion for vulgar enjoyment59 and this taste for luxury had increased still more with the facilities offered by his position. Each day he wore out his energy in indulgence, and deadened and degraded even his ambition. His intelligence was incoherent, confused, filled with great but ill-assorted thoughts, which he borrowed now from the examples of Napoleon, now from socialistic theories, sometimes from recollections of England, where he had lived: very different, and often very contrary, sources. These he had laboriously60 collected in his solitary61 meditations62, far removed from the contact of men and facts, for he was naturally a dreamer and a visionary. But when he was forced to emerge from these vague, vast regions in order to confine his mind to the limits of a piece of business, it showed itself to be capable of justice, sometimes of subtlety63 and compass, and even of a certain depth, but never sure, and always prepared to place a grotesque64 idea by the side of a correct one.
Generally, it was difficult to come into long and[287] very close contact with him without discovering a little vein65 of madness running through his better sense, the sight of which always recalled the escapades of his youth, and served to explain them.
It may be admitted, for that matter, that it was his madness rather than his reason which, thanks to circumstances, caused his success and his force: for the world is a strange theatre. There are moments in it when the worst plays are those which succeed best. If Louis Napoleon had been a wise man, or a man of genius, he would never have become President of the Republic.
He trusted in his star; he firmly believed himself to be the instrument of destiny and the necessary man. I have always believed that he was really convinced of his right, and I doubt whether Charles X. was ever more infatuated with his legitimism than he with his. Moreover, he was quite as incapable of alleging66 a reason for his faith; for, although he had a sort of abstract adoration67 for the people, he had very little taste for liberty. The characteristic and fundamental feature of his mind in political matters was his hatred of and contempt for assemblies. The rule of the Constitutional Monarchy seemed to him even more insupportable than that of the Republic. His unlimited68 pride in the name he bore, which willingly bowed before the nation, revolted at the idea of yielding to the influence of a parliament.
Before attaining69 power he had had time to[288] strengthen his natural taste for the footman class, which is always displayed by mediocre70 princes, by the habits of twenty years of conspiracy spent amid low-class adventurers, men of ruined fortunes or blemished71 reputations, and young debauchees, the only persons who, during all this time, could have consented to serve him as go-betweens or accomplices72. He himself, in spite of his good manners, allowed a glimpse to pierce through of the adventurer and the prince of fortune. He continued to take pleasure in this inferior company after he was no longer obliged to live in it. I believe that his difficulty in expressing his thoughts otherwise than in writing attached him to people who had long been familiar with his current of thought and with his dreamings, and that his inferiority in conversation rendered him generally averse73 to contact with clever men. Moreover, he desired above all things to meet with devotion to his person and his cause, as though his person and his cause were such as to be able to arouse devotion: merit annoyed him when it displayed ever so little independence. He wanted believers in his star, and vulgar worshippers of his fortune.
This was the man whom the need of a chief and the power of a memory had placed at the head of France, and with whom we would have to govern.
It would be difficult to imagine a more critical moment in which to assume the direction of affairs. The Constituent Assembly, before ending its turbu[289]lent existence, had passed a resolution, on the 7th of June 1849, prohibiting the Government from attacking Rome. The first thing I learnt on entering the Cabinet was that the order to attack Rome had been sent to the army three days before. This flagrant disobedience of the injunctions of a sovereign Assembly, this war undertaken against a people in revolution, because of its revolution, and in defiance74 of the terms of the Constitution which commanded us to respect all foreign nationalities, made inevitable75 and brought nearer the conflict which we dreaded76. What would be the issue of this new struggle? All the letters from prefects of departments that were laid before us, all the police reports that reached us were calculated to throw us into great alarm. I had seen, at the end of the Cavaignac Administration, how a government can be supported in its visionary hopes by the self-interested complaisance77 of its agents. This time I saw, and much more closely, how these same agents can work to increase the terror of those who employ them: contrary effects produced by the same cause. Each one of them, judging that we were uneasy, wished to signalize himself by the discovery of new plots, and in his turn to supply us with some fresh indication of the conspiracy which threatened us. The more they believed in our success, the more readily they talked to us of our danger. For it is one of the dangerous characteristics of this sort of information, that it becomes rarer and less explicit78 in the measure that[290] the peril79 increases and the need for information becomes greater. The agents in that case, doubting the duration of the government which employs them, and already fearing its successor, either scarcely speak at all or keep absolute silence. But now they made a great noise. To listen to them, it was impossible not to think that we were on the edge of an abyss, and yet I did not believe a word of it. I was quite convinced then, as I have been ever since, that official correspondence and police reports, which may be useful for purposes of consultation80 when there is question of discovering a particular plot, only serve to give exaggerated and incomplete and invariably false notions when one wishes to judge or foresee great movements of parties. In a matter of this kind, it is the aspect of the whole country, the knowledge of its needs, its passions and its ideas, that can instruct us, general data which one can procure81 for one's self, and which are never supplied by even the best placed and best accredited82 agents.
The sight of these general facts had led me to believe that at this moment no armed revolution was to be feared: but a combat was; and the expectation of civil war is always cruel, especially when it comes in time to join its fury to that of pestilence83. Paris was at that time ravaged84 by cholera85. Death struck at all ranks. Already a large number of members of the Constituent Assembly had succumbed86; and Bugeaud, whom Africa had spared, was dying.[291]
Had I entertained a moment's doubt as to the imminence87 of the crisis, the aspect alone of the new Assembly would have clearly announced it to me. It is not too much to say that one breathed the atmosphere of civil war in its midst. The speeches were short, the gestures violent, the words extravagant88, the insults outrageous40 and direct. We met for the present in the old Chamber89 of Deputies. This room, built for 460 members, had difficulty in containing 750. The members, therefore, sat touching90, while detesting91, each other; they pressed one against the other in spite of the hatred which divided them; the discomfort92 increased their anger. It was a duel93 in a barrel. How would the Montagnards be able to restrain themselves? They saw that they were sufficiently94 numerous to entitle them to believe themselves very strong in the country and in the army. Yet they remained too weak in Parliament to hope to prevail or even to count there. They were offered a fine occasion of resorting to force. All Europe, which was still in commotion95, might with one great blow, struck in Paris, be thrown into revolution anew. This was more than was necessary for men of such savage96 temper.
It was easy to foresee that the movement would burst forth97 at the moment when it should become known that the order had been given to attack Rome and that the attack had taken place. And this was what in fact occurred.
The order given had remained secret. But on[292] the 10th of June, the report of the first combat became current.
On the 11th, the Mountain burst into furious speech. Ledru-Rollin made an appeal from the tribune for civil war, saying that the Constitution had been violated and that he and his friends were ready to defend it by every method, including that of arms. The indictment98 was demanded of the President of the Republic and of the preceding Cabinet.
On the 12th, the Committee of the Assembly, instructed to examine the question raised the day before, rejected the impeachment99 and called upon the Assembly to pronounce, where it sat, upon the fate of the President and Ministers. The Mountain opposed this immediate100 discussion and demanded that documents should be laid before it. What was its object in thus postponing101 the debate? It was difficult to say. Did it hope that this delay would complete the general irritation102, or did it in its heart of hearts wish to give it time to calm down? One thing is certain, that its principal leaders, those who were more accustomed to speaking than to fighting, and who were passionate103 rather than resolute104, displayed that day, amid all the intemperance105 of their language, a sort of hesitation106 of which they had given no sign the day before. After half drawing the sword from the scabbard, they appeared to wish to replace it; but it was too late, the signal had been observed by their friends outside, and thenceforward they no longer led, but were led in their turn.[293]
During these two days, my position was most cruel. As I have already stated, I disapproved107 entirely108 of the manner in which the Roman expedition had been undertaken and conducted. Before joining the Cabinet, I had solemnly declared to Barrot that I declined to take any responsibility except for the future, and that he must himself be prepared to defend what had up to that time been done in Italy. I had only accepted office on this condition. I therefore kept silent during the discussion on the 11th, and allowed Barrot to bear the brunt of the battle alone. But when, on the 12th, I saw my colleagues threatened with an impeachment, I considered that I could no longer abstain109. The demand for fresh documents gave me an opportunity to intervene, without having to express an opinion upon the original question. I did so vigorously, although in very few words.
On reading over this little speech in the Moniteur, I cannot but think it very insignificant110 and badly turned. Nevertheless, I was applauded to the echo by the majority, because in moments of crisis, when one is in danger of civil war, it is the movement of thought and the accent of one's words which make an impression, rather than their value. I directly attacked Ledru-Rollin. I accused him with violence of only wanting troubles and of spreading lies in order to create them. The feeling which impelled111 me to speak was an energetic one, the tone was determined112 and aggressive, and although I spoke[294] very badly, being as yet unaccustomed to my new part, I met with much favour.
Ledru replied to me, and told the majority that they were on the side of the Cossacks. They answered that he was on the side of the plunderers and the incendiaries. Thiers, commenting on this thought, said that there was an intimate relation between the man they had just listened to and the insurgents113 of June. The Assembly rejected the demand for an impeachment by a large majority, and broke up.
Although the leaders of the Mountain continued to be outrageous, they had not shown any great firmness, so that we were able to flatter ourselves that the decisive moment for the struggle had not yet arrived. But this was a mistake. The reports which we received during the night told us that the people were preparing to take up arms.
On the next day, in fact, the language of the demagogic papers proclaimed that the editors no longer relied upon justice, but upon a revolution, to acquit114 them. All of them called either directly or indirectly115 for civil war. The National Guard, the schools, the entire population was summoned by them to repair, unarmed, to a certain locality, in order to go and present themselves in mass before the doors of the Assembly. It was a 23rd of June which they wished to commence with a 15th of May; and, in fact, seven or eight thousand people did meet at about eleven o'clock at the Chateau-d'Eau. We on[295] our side held a Council under the President of the Republic. The latter was already in uniform, and prepared to go out on horseback so soon as he should be told that the fighting had commenced. For the rest, he had changed nothing except his clothes. He was exactly the same man as on the day before: the same rather dejected air, his speech no less slow and no less embarrassed, his eye no less dull. He showed none of that sort of warlike excitement and of rather feverish116 gaiety which the approach of danger so often gives: an attitude which is perhaps, after all, no more than the sign of a mind disturbed.
We sent for Changarnier, who explained his preparations to us, and guaranteed a victory. Dufaure communicated to us the reports he had received, all of which told of a formidable insurrection. He then left for the Ministry of the Interior, which was the centre of action, and at about mid-day I repaired to the Assembly.
The House was some time before it met, because the President, without consulting us, had declared, when arranging the Order of the Day on the evening before, that there would be no public sitting on the next day, a strange blunder which would have looked like treachery in anyone else. While messengers were being despatched to inform the members at their own houses, I went to see the President of the Assembly in his private room: most of the leaders of the majority were there before me. Every[296] face bore traces of excitement and anxiety; the contest was both feared and demanded. They began by vehemently117 accusing the Ministry of slackness. Thiers, lying back in a big arm-chair, with his legs crossed one over the other, sat rubbing his stomach (for he felt certain symptoms of the prevailing118 epidemic), loudly and angrily exclaiming, in his shrillest falsetto, that it was very strange that no one seemed to think of declaring Paris in a state of siege. I replied gently that we had thought of it, but that the moment had not yet come to do so, since the Assembly had not yet met.
The members arrived from every side, attracted less by the messages despatched to them, which most of them had not even received, than by the rumours119 prevalent in the town. The sitting was opened at two o'clock. The benches of the majority were well filled, but the top of the Mountain was deserted120. The gloomy silence which reigned121 in this part of the House was more alarming than the shouts which came from that quarter as a rule. It was a proof that discussion had ceased, and that the civil war was about to commence.
At three o'clock, Dufaure came and asked that the state of siege should be proclaimed in Paris. Cavaignac seconded him in one of those short addresses which he sometimes delivered, and in which his mind, which was naturally middling and confused reached the level of his soul and approached the sublime122. Under these circumstances he became, for[297] a moment, the man of the most genuine eloquence123 that I have ever heard speak in our Assemblies: he left all the mere124 orators125 far behind him.
"You have just said," he exclaimed, addressing the Montagnard[17] who was leaving the tribune, "that I have fallen from power. That is not true: I retired126 voluntarily. The national will does not overthrow; it commands, and we obey. I add—and I want the republican party always to be able to say so with justice: I retired voluntarily, and, in so doing, my conduct did honour to my republican convictions. You said that we lived in terror: history is observing us, and will pronounce when the time comes. But what I say to you myself is this, that although you have not succeeded in inspiring me with a feeling of terror, you have inspired me with a feeling of profound sorrow. Shall I tell you one thing more? You are Republicans of long standing127; whereas I have not worked for the Republic before its foundation, I have not suffered for it, and I regret that this is so; but I have served it faithfully, and I have done more: I have governed it. I shall serve nothing else, understand me well! Write it down, take it down in shorthand, so that it may remain engraved128 upon the annals of our deliberations: I shall serve nothing else! Between you and me, I take it, it is a question as to which of us will serve the Republic best. Well then, my regret is, that you have served it very badly. I hope, for the[298] sake of my country, that it is not destined129 to fall; but if we should be condemned130 to undergo so great a blow, remember—remember distinctly—that we shall accuse your exaggerations and your fury as being the cause of it."
Shortly after the state of siege had been proclaimed, we learnt that the insurrection had been extinguished. Changarnier and the President, charging at the head of the cavalry131, had cut in two and dispersed132 the column which was making its way towards the Assembly. A few newly-erected barricades133 had been destroyed, without striking a blow. The Montagnards, surrounded in the Conservatoire of Arts and Crafts, which they had turned into their head-quarters, had either been arrested or taken to flight. We were the masters of Paris.
The same movement took place in several of the large towns, with more vigour134 but no less success. At Lyons, the fighting lasted stubbornly for five hours, and the victory was for a moment in doubt. But for that matter, when we were once victorious135 in Paris, we distressed136 ourselves very little about the provinces; for we knew that in France, in matters both of order and of disorder137, Paris lays down the law.
Thus ended the second Insurrection of June, very different to the first by the extent of its violence and its duration, but similar in the causes which led to its failure. At the time of the first, the[299] people, carried away less by their opinions than by their appetites, had fought alone, without being able to attract their representatives to their head. This time the representatives had been unable to induce the people to follow them into battle. In June 1848, the army had no leaders; in June 1849, the leaders had no army.
They were singular personages, those Montagnards: their quarrelsome nature and their self-conceit were displayed even in measures which least allowed of it. Among those who, in their newspapers and in their own persons, had spoken most violently in favour of civil war, and who had done the most to cover us with insults, was Considérant, the pupil and successor of Fourier, and the author of so many socialistic dreams which would only have been ridiculous at any other time, but which were dangerous in ours. Considérant succeeded in escaping with Ledru-Rollin from the Conservatoire, and in reaching the Belgian frontier. I had formerly138 had social relations with him, and when he arrived in Brussels, he wrote to me:
My dear Tocqueville,
(Here followed a request for a service which he asked me to do for him, and then he went on):
"Rely upon me at all times for any personal service. You are good for two or three months perhaps, and the pure Whites who will follow you are good for six months at the longest. You will both[300] of you, it is true, have well deserved what is infallibly bound to happen to you a little sooner or a little later. But let us talk no more politics and respect the very legal, very loyal, and very Odilon Barrotesque state of siege."
To this I replied:
My dear Considérant,
"I have done what you ask. I do not wish to take advantage of so small a service, but I am very pleased to ascertain139, by the way, that those odious140 oppressors of liberty, the Ministers, inspire their adversaries with so much confidence that the latter, after outlawing141 them, do not hesitate to apply to them to obtain what is just. This proves that there is some good left in us, whatever may be said of us. Are you quite sure that if the position had been inverted142, I should have been able to act in the same way, I will not say towards yourself, but towards such and such of your political friends whom I might mention? I think the contrary, and I solemnly declare to you that if ever they become the masters, I shall consider myself quite satisfied if they only leave my head upon my shoulders, and ready to declare that their virtue143 has surpassed my greatest expectations."
FOOTNOTES:
[16] Antoine Louis Claude Destutt de Tracy, 1754-1836, the celebrated144 ideologist145, Condillac's disciple146.—A.T. de M.
[17] Pierre Leroux.
点击收听单词发音
1 ministry | |
n.(政府的)部;牧师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 maladroit | |
adj.笨拙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 disparaging | |
adj.轻蔑的,毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 );贬低;批评;非难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 paradox | |
n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法;自相矛盾的人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 placid | |
adj.安静的,平和的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 overthrow | |
v.推翻,打倒,颠覆;n.推翻,瓦解,颠覆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 vacillation | |
n.动摇;忧柔寡断 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 monarchic | |
国王的,君主政体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 systematic | |
adj.有系统的,有计划的,有方法的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 ideological | |
a.意识形态的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 sluggish | |
adj.懒惰的,迟钝的,无精打采的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 rendering | |
n.表现,描写 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 nonentity | |
n.无足轻重的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 adversary | |
adj.敌手,对手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 isolated | |
adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 coalition | |
n.结合体,同盟,结合,联合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 derive | |
v.取得;导出;引申;来自;源自;出自 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 monarchy | |
n.君主,最高统治者;君主政体,君主国 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 inadequate | |
adj.(for,to)不充足的,不适当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 bastard | |
n.坏蛋,混蛋;私生子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 detested | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 irreconcilable | |
adj.(指人)难和解的,势不两立的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 adversaries | |
n.对手,敌手( adversary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 coalesce | |
v.联合,结合,合并 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 inertia | |
adj.惰性,惯性,懒惰,迟钝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 constituent | |
n.选民;成分,组分;adj.组成的,构成的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 outrageous | |
adj.无理的,令人不能容忍的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 outrageously | |
凶残地; 肆无忌惮地; 令人不能容忍地; 不寻常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 conspiracy | |
n.阴谋,密谋,共谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 conversing | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 lawful | |
adj.法律许可的,守法的,合法的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 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: |
|
|
52 dissimulation | |
n.掩饰,虚伪,装糊涂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 opaque | |
adj.不透光的;不反光的,不传导的;晦涩的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 detriment | |
n.损害;损害物,造成损害的根源 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 audacity | |
n.大胆,卤莽,无礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 prudence | |
n.谨慎,精明,节俭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 addicted | |
adj.沉溺于....的,对...上瘾的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 laboriously | |
adv.艰苦地;费力地;辛勤地;(文体等)佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 subtlety | |
n.微妙,敏锐,精巧;微妙之处,细微的区别 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 vein | |
n.血管,静脉;叶脉,纹理;情绪;vt.使成脉络 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 alleging | |
断言,宣称,辩解( allege的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 adoration | |
n.爱慕,崇拜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 unlimited | |
adj.无限的,不受控制的,无条件的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 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: |
|
|
70 mediocre | |
adj.平常的,普通的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 blemished | |
v.有损…的完美,玷污( blemish的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 accomplices | |
从犯,帮凶,同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 averse | |
adj.厌恶的;反对的,不乐意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 complaisance | |
n.彬彬有礼,殷勤,柔顺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 explicit | |
adj.详述的,明确的;坦率的;显然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 procure | |
vt.获得,取得,促成;vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 accredited | |
adj.可接受的;可信任的;公认的;质量合格的v.相信( accredit的过去式和过去分词 );委托;委任;把…归结于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 pestilence | |
n.瘟疫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 ravaged | |
毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 ); 蹂躏; 劫掠; 抢劫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 cholera | |
n.霍乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 succumbed | |
不再抵抗(诱惑、疾病、攻击等)( succumb的过去式和过去分词 ); 屈从; 被压垮; 死 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 imminence | |
n.急迫,危急 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 detesting | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 discomfort | |
n.不舒服,不安,难过,困难,不方便 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 duel | |
n./v.决斗;(双方的)斗争 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 commotion | |
n.骚动,动乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 indictment | |
n.起诉;诉状 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 impeachment | |
n.弹劾;控告;怀疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 postponing | |
v.延期,推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 resolute | |
adj.坚决的,果敢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 intemperance | |
n.放纵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 disapproved | |
v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 abstain | |
v.自制,戒绝,弃权,避免 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 impelled | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 insurgents | |
n.起义,暴动,造反( insurgent的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 acquit | |
vt.宣判无罪;(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 indirectly | |
adv.间接地,不直接了当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 vehemently | |
adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 prevailing | |
adj.盛行的;占优势的;主要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 rumours | |
n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 );风闻;谣言;谣传 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 reigned | |
vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 orators | |
n.演说者,演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 engraved | |
v.在(硬物)上雕刻(字,画等)( engrave的过去式和过去分词 );将某事物深深印在(记忆或头脑中) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 cavalry | |
n.骑兵;轻装甲部队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 dispersed | |
adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 barricades | |
路障,障碍物( barricade的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 vigour | |
(=vigor)n.智力,体力,精力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 victorious | |
adj.胜利的,得胜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 odious | |
adj.可憎的,讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 outlawing | |
宣布…为不合法(outlaw的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 inverted | |
adj.反向的,倒转的v.使倒置,使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 ideologist | |
n.思想家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 disciple | |
n.信徒,门徒,追随者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |