Any respectable visitor, if he could make up his mind to elbow a passage among these sea-monsters, was admitted into an outer office, where he found more of the same species, explaining their respective wants or grievances24 to the Vice25-Consul1 and clerks, while their shipmates awaited their turn outside the door. Passing through this exterior26 court, the stranger was ushered27 into an inner privacy, where sat the Consul himself, ready to give personal attention to such peculiarly difficult and more important cases as might demand the exercise of (what we will courteously29 suppose to be) his own higher judicial30 or administrative31 sagacity.
It was an apartment of very moderate size, painted in imitation of oak, and duskily lighted by two windows looking across a by-street at the rough brick-side of an immense cotton warehouse32, a plainer and uglier structure than ever was built in America. On the walls of the room hung a large map of the United States (as they were, twenty years ago, but seem little likely to be, twenty years hence), and a similar one of Great Britain, with its territory so provokingly compact, that we may expect it to sink sooner than sunder33. Farther adornments were some rude engravings of our naval34 victories in the War of 1812, together with the Tennessee State House, and a Hudson River steamer, and a colored, life-size lithograph35 of General Taylor, with an honest hideousness37 of aspect, occupying the place of honor above the mantel-piece. On the top of a bookcase stood a fierce and terrible bust38 of General Jackson, pilloried39 in a military collar which rose above his ears, and frowning forth40 immitigably at any Englishman who might happen to cross the threshold. I am afraid, however, that the truculence41 of the old General's expression was utterly42 thrown away on this stolid43 and obdurate44 race of men; for, when they occasionally inquired whom this work of art represented, I was mortified45 to find that the younger ones had never heard of the battle of New Orleans, and that their elders had either forgotten it altogether, or contrived46 to misremember, and twist it wrong end foremost into something like an English victory. They have caught from the old Romans (whom they resemble in so many other characteristics) this excellent method of keeping the national glory intact by sweeping48 all defeats and humiliations clean out of their memory. Nevertheless, my patriotism49 forbade me to take down either the bust, or the pictures, both because it seemed no more than right that an American Consulate (being a little patch of our nationality imbedded into the soil and institutions of England) should fairly represent the American taste in the fine arts, and because these decorations reminded me so delightfully51 of an old-fashioned American barber's shop.
One truly English object was a barometer53 hanging on the wall, generally indicating one or another degree of disagreeable weather, and so seldom pointing to Fair, that I began to consider that portion of its circle as made superfluously54. The deep chimney, with its grate of bituminous coal, was English too, as was also the chill temperature that sometimes called for a fire at midsummer, and the foggy or smoky atmosphere which often, between November and March, compelled me to set the gas aflame at noonday. I am not aware of omitting anything important in the above descriptive inventory55, unless it be some book-shelves filled with octavo volumes of the American Statutes56, and a good many pigeon-holes stuffed with dusty communications from former Secretaries of State, and other official documents of similar value, constituting part of the archives of the Consulate, which I might have done my successor a favor by flinging into the coal-grate. Yes; there was one other article demanding prominent notice: the consular copy of the New Testament57, bound in black morocco, and greasy58, I fear, with a daily succession of perjured59 kisses; at least, I can hardly hope that all the ten thousand oaths, administered by me between two breaths, to all sorts of people and on all manner of worldly business, were reckoned by the swearer as if taken at his soul's peril60.
Such, in short, was the dusky and stifled61 chamber62 in which I spent wearily a considerable portion of more than four good years of my existence. At first, to be quite frank with the reader, I looked upon it as not altogether fit to be tenanted by the commercial representative of so great and prosperous a country as the United States then were; and I should speedily have transferred my headquarters to airier and loftier apartments, except for the prudent63 consideration that my government would have left me thus to support its dignity at my own personal expense. Besides, a long line of distinguished64 predecessors66, of whom the latest is now a gallant67 general under the union banner, had found the locality good enough for them; it might certainly be tolerated, therefore, by an individual so little ambitious of external magnificence as myself. So I settled quietly down, striking some of my roots into such soil as I could find, adapting myself to circumstances, and with so much success, that, though from first to last I hated the very sight of the little room, I should yet have felt a singular kind of reluctance68 in changing it for a better.
Hither, in the course of my incumbency69, came a great variety of visitors, principally Americans, but including almost every other nationality on earth, especially the distressed70 and downfallen ones like those of Poland and Hungary. Italian bandits (for so they looked), proscribed71 conspirators72 from Old Spain, Spanish-Americans, Cubans who processed to have stood by Lopez and narrowly escaped his fate, scarred French soldiers of the Second Republic,—in a word, all sufferers, or pretended ones, in the cause of Liberty, all people homeless in the widest sense, those who never had a country or had lost it, those whom their native land had impatiently flung off for planning a better system of things than they were born to,—a multitude of these and, doubtless, an equal number of jail-birds, outwardly of the same feather, sought the American Consulate, in hopes of at least a bit of bread, and, perhaps, to beg a passage to the blessed shores of Freedom. In most cases there was nothing, and in any case distressingly73 little, to be done for them; neither was I of a proselyting disposition74, nor desired to make my Consulate a nucleus75 for the vagrant76 discontents of other lands. And yet it was a proud thought, a forcible appeal to the sympathies of an American, that these unfortunates claimed the privileges of citizenship77 in our Republic on the strength of the very same noble misdemeanors that had rendered them outlaws78 to their native despotisms. So I gave them what small help I could. Methinks the true patriots79 and martyr-spirits of the whole world should have been conscious of a pang80 near the heart, when a deadly blow was aimed at the vitality81 of a country which they have felt to be their own in the last resort.
As for my countrymen, I grew better acquainted with many of our national characteristics during those four years than in all my preceding life. Whether brought more strikingly out by the contrast with English manners, or that my Yankee friends assumed an extra peculiarity82 from a sense of defiant83 patriotism, so it was that their tones, sentiments, and behavior, even their figures and cast of countenance84, all seemed chiselled85 in sharper angles than ever I had imagined them to be at home. It impressed me with an odd idea of having somehow lost the property of my own person, when I occasionally heard one of them speaking of me as "my Consul"! They often came to the Consulate in parties of half a dozen or more, on no business whatever, but merely to subject their public servant to a rigid88 examination, and see how he was getting on with his duties. These interviews were rather formidable, being characterized by a certain stiffness which I felt to be sufficiently89 irksome at the moment, though it looks laughable enough in the retrospect90. It is my firm belief that these fellow-citizens, possessing a native tendency to organization, generally halted outside of the door to elect a speaker, chairman, or moderator, and thus approached me with all the formalities of a deputation from the American people. After salutations on both sides,— abrupt91, awful, and severe on their part, and deprecatory on mine,—and the national ceremony of shaking hands being duly gone through with, the interview proceeded by a series of calm and well-considered questions or remarks from the spokesman (no other of the guests vouchsafing93 to utter a word), and diplomatic responses from the Consul, who sometimes found the investigation94 a little more searching than he liked. I flatter myself, however, that, by much practice, I attained95 considerable skill in this kind of intercourse96, the art of which lies in passing off commonplaces for new and valuable truths, and talking trash and emptiness in such a way that a pretty acute auditor97 might mistake it for something solid. If there be any better method of dealing98 with such junctures,—when talk is to be created out of nothing, and within the scope of several minds at once, so that you cannot apply yourself to your interlocutor's individuality,—I have not learned it.
Sitting, as it were, in the gateway99 between the Old World and the New, where the steamers and packets landed the greater part of our wandering countrymen, and received them again when their wanderings were done, I saw that no people on earth have such vagabond habits as ourselves. The Continental100 races never travel at all if they can help it; nor does an Englishman ever think of stirring abroad, unless he has the money to spare, or proposes to himself some definite advantage from the journey; but it seemed to me that nothing was more common than for a young American deliberately101 to spend all his resources in an aesthetic102 peregrination103 about Europe, returning with pockets nearly empty to begin the world in earnest. It happened, indeed, much oftener than was at all agreeable to myself, that their funds held out just long enough to bring them to the door of my Consulate, where they entered as if with an undeniable right to its shelter and protection, and required at my hands to be sent home again. In my first simplicity104,—finding them gentlemanly in manners, passably educated, and only tempted105 a little beyond their means by a laudable desire of improving and refining themselves, or, perhaps for the sake of getting better artistic106 instruction in music, painting, or sculpture than our country could supply,—I sometimes took charge of them on my private responsibility, since our government gives itself no trouble about its stray children, except the seafaring class. But, after a few such experiments, discovering that none of these estimable and ingenuous107 young men, however trustworthy they might appear, ever dreamed of reimbursing109 the Consul, I deemed it expedient110 to take another course with them. Applying myself to some friendly shipmaster, I engaged homeward passages on their behalf, with the understanding that they were to make themselves serviceable on shipboard; and I remember several very pathetic appeals from painters and musicians, touching112 the damage which their artistic fingers were likely to incur113 from handling the ropes. But my observation of so many heavier troubles left me very little tenderness for their finger-ends. In time I grew to be reasonably hard-hearted, though it never was quite possible to leave a countryman with no shelter save an English poorhouse, when, as he invariably averred114, he had only to set foot on his native soil to be possessed115 of ample funds. It was my ultimate conclusion, however, that American ingenuity116 may be pretty safely left to itself, and that, one way or another, a Yankee vagabond is certain to turn up at his own threshold, if he has any, without help of a Consul, and perhaps be taught a lesson of foresight117 that may profit him hereafter.
Among these stray Americans, I met with no other case so remarkable118 as that of an old man, who was in the habit of visiting me once in a few months, and soberly affirmed that he had been wandering about England more than a quarter of a century (precisely119 twenty-seven years, I think), and all the while doing his utmost to get home again. Herman Melville, in his excellent novel or biography of "Israel Potter," has an idea somewhat similar to this. The individual now in question was a mild and patient, but very ragged120 and pitiable old fellow, shabby beyond description, lean and hungry-looking, but with a large and somewhat red nose. He made no complaint of his ill-fortune, but only repeated in a quiet voice, with a pathos121 of which he was himself evidently unconscious, "I want to get home to Ninety-second Street, Philadelphia." He described himself as a printer by trade, and said that he had come over when he was a younger man, in the hope of bettering himself, and for the sake of seeing the Old Country, but had never since been rich enough to pay his homeward passage. His manner and accent did not quite convince me that he was an American, and I told him so; but he steadfastly122 affirmed, "Sir, I was born and have lived in Ninety-second Street, Philadelphia," and then went on to describe some public edifices123 and other local objects with which he used to be familiar, adding, with a simplicity that touched me very closely, "Sir, I had rather be there than here!" Though I still manifested a lingering doubt, he took no offence, replying with the same mild depression as at first, and insisting again and again on Ninety-second Street. Up to the time when I saw him, he still got a little occasional job-work at his trade, but subsisted124 mainly on such charity as he met with in his wanderings, shifting from place to place continually, and asking assistance to convey him to his native land. Possibly he was an impostor, one of the multitudinous shapes of English vagabondism, and told his falsehood with such powerful simplicity, because, by many repetitions, he had convinced himself of its truth. But if, as I believe, the tale was fact, how very strange and sad was this old man's fate! Homeless on a foreign shore, looking always towards his country, coming again and again to the point whence so many were setting sail for it,—so many who would soon tread in Ninety-second Street,— losing, in this long series of years, some of the distinctive125 characteristics of an American, and at last dying and surrendering his clay to be a portion of the soil whence he could not escape in his lifetime.
He appeared to see that he had moved me, but did not attempt to press his advantage with any new argument, or any varied126 form of entreaty127. He had but scanty128 and scattered129 thoughts in his gray head, and in the intervals130 of those, like the refrain of an old ballad131, came in the monotonous132 burden of his appeal, "If I could only find myself in Ninety-second Street, Philadelphia!" But even his desire of getting home had ceased to be an ardent133 one (if, indeed, it had not always partaken of the dreamy sluggishness134 of his character), although it remained his only locomotive impulse, and perhaps the sole principle of life that kept his blood from actual torpor135.
The poor old fellow's story seemed to me almost as worthy108 of being chanted in immortal136 song as that of Odysseus or Evangeline. I took his case into deep consideration, but dared not incur the moral responsibility of sending him across the sea, at his age, after so many years of exile, when the very tradition of him had passed away, to find his friends dead, or forgetful, or irretrievably vanished, and the whole country become more truly a foreign land to him than England was now,— and even Ninety-second Street, in the weedlike decay and growth of our localities, made over anew and grown unrecognizable by his old eyes. That street, so patiently longed for, had transferred itself to the New Jerusalem, and he must seek it there, contenting his slow heart, meanwhile, with the smoke-begrimed thoroughfares of English towns, or the green country lanes and by-paths with which his wanderings had made him familiar; for doubtless he had a beaten track and was the "long-remembered beggar" now, with food and a roughly hospitable137 greeting ready for him at many a farm-house door, and his choice of lodging138 under a score of haystacks. In America, nothing awaited him but that worst form of disappointment which comes under the guise139 of a long-cherished and late-accomplished140 purpose, and then a year or two of dry and barren sojourn141 in an almshouse, and death among strangers at last, where he had imagined a circle of familiar faces. So I contented142 myself with giving him alms, which he thankfully accepted, and went away with bent143 shoulders and an aspect of gentle forlornness; returning upon his orbit, however, after a few months, to tell the same sad and quiet story of his abode144 in England for more than twenty-seven years, in all which time he had been endeavoring, and still endeavored as patiently as ever, to find his way home to Ninety-second Street, Philadelphia.
I recollect145 another case, of a more ridiculous order, but still with a foolish kind of pathos entangled146 in it, which impresses me now more forcibly than it did at the moment. One day, a queer, stupid, good-natured, fat-faced individual came into my private room, dressed in a sky-blue, cut-away coat and mixed trousers, both garments worn and shabby, and rather too small for his overgrown bulk. After a little preliminary talk, he turned out to be a country shopkeeper (from Connecticut, I think), who had left a flourishing business, and come over to England purposely and solely147 to have an interview with the Queen. Some years before he had named his two children, one for her Majesty148 and the other for Prince Albert, and had transmitted photographs of the little people, as well as of his wife and himself, to the illustrious godmother. The Queen had gratefully acknowledged the favor in a letter under the hand of her private secretary. Now, the shopkeeper, like a great many other Americans, had long cherished a fantastic notion that he was one of the rightful heirs of a rich English estate; and on the strength of her Majesty's letter and the hopes of royal patronage149 which it inspired, he had shut up his little country-store and come over to claim his inheritance. On the voyage, a German fellow-passenger had relieved him of his money on pretence150 of getting it favorably exchanged, and had disappeared immediately on the ship's arrival; so that the poor fellow was compelled to pawn152 all his clothes, except the remarkably153 shabby ones in which I beheld154 him, and in which (as he himself hinted, with a melancholy155, yet good-natured smile) he did not look altogether fit to see the Queen. I agreed with him that the bobtailed coat and mixed trousers constituted a very odd-looking court-dress, and suggested that it was doubtless his present purpose to get back to Connecticut as fast as possible. But no! The resolve to see the Queen was as strong in him as ever; and it was marvellous the pertinacity156 with which he clung to it amid raggedness157 and starvation, and the earnestness of his supplication158 that I would supply him with funds for a suitable appearance at Windsor Castle.
I never had so satisfactory a perception of a complete booby before in my life; and it caused me to feel kindly159 towards him, and yet impatient and exasperated160 on behalf of common-sense, which could not possibly tolerate that such an unimaginable donkey should exist. I laid his absurdity161 before him in the very plainest terms, but without either exciting his anger or shaking his resolution. "O my dear man," quoth he, with good-natured, placid162, simple, and tearful stubbornness, "if you could but enter into my feelings and see the matter from beginning to end as I see it!" To confess the truth, I have since felt that I was hard-hearted to the poor simpleton, and that there was more weight in his remonstrance163 than I chose to be sensible of, at the time; for, like many men who have been in the habit of making playthings or tools of their imagination and sensibility, I was too rigidly164 tenacious165 of what was reasonable in the affairs of real life. And even absurdity has its rights, when, as in this case, it has absorbed a human being's entire nature and purposes. I ought to have transmitted him to Mr. Buchanan, in London, who, being a good-natured old gentleman, and anxious, just then, to gratify the universal Yankee nation, might, for the joke's sake, have got him admittance to the Queen, who had fairly laid herself open to his visit, and has received hundreds of our countrymen on infinitely166 slighter grounds. But I was inexorable, being turned to flint by the insufferable proximity167 of a fool, and refused to interfere168 with his business in any way except to procure169 him a passage home. I can see his face of mild, ridiculous despair, at this moment, and appreciate, better than I could then, how awfully170 cruel he must have felt my obduracy171 to be. For years and years, the idea of an interview with Queen Victoria had haunted his poor foolish mind; and now, when he really stood on English ground, and the palace-door was hanging ajar for him, he was expected to turn brick, a penniless and bamboozled172 simpleton, merely because an iron-hearted consul refused to lend him thirty shillings (so low had his demand ultimately sunk) to buy a second-class ticket on the rail for London!
He visited the Consulate several times afterwards, subsisting173 on a pittance174 that I allowed him in the hope of gradually starving him back to Connecticut, assailing175 me with the old petition at every opportunity, looking shabbier at every visit, but still thoroughly176 good-tempered, mildly stubborn, and smiling through his tears, not without a perception of the ludicrousness of his own position. Finally, he disappeared altogether, and whither he had wandered, and whether he ever saw the Queen, or wasted quite away in the endeavor, I never knew; but I remember unfolding the "Times," about that period, with a daily dread177 of reading an account of a ragged Yankee's attempt to steal into Buckingham Palace, and how he smiled tearfully at his captors and besought178 them to introduce him to her Majesty. I submit to Mr. Secretary Seward that he ought to make diplomatic remonstrances179 to the British Ministry180, and require them to take such order that the Queen shall not any longer bewilder the wits of our poor compatriots by responding to their epistles and thanking them for their photographs.
One circumstance in the foregoing incident—I mean the unhappy storekeeper's notion of establishing his claim to an English estate—was common to a great many other applications, personal or by letter, with which I was favored by my countrymen. The cause of this peculiar28 insanity181 lies deep in the Anglo-American heart. After all these bloody wars and vindictive182 animosities, we have still an unspeakable yearning183 towards England. When our forefathers184 left the old home, they pulled up many of their roots, but trailed along with them others, which were never snapt asunder185 by the tug186 of such a lengthening187 distance, nor have been torn out of the original soil by the violence of subsequent struggles, nor severed188 by the edge of the sword. Even so late as these days, they remain entangled with our heart-strings, and might often have influenced our national cause like the tiller-ropes of a ship, if the rough gripe of England had been capable of managing so sensitive a kind of machinery189. It has required nothing less than the boorishness190, the stolidity191, the self-sufficiency, the contemptuous jealousy192, the half-sagacity, invariably blind of one eye and often distorted of the other, that characterize this strange people, to compel us to be a great nation in our own right, instead of continuing virtually, if not in name, a province of their small island. What pains did they take to shake us off, and have ever since taken to keep us wide apart from them! It might seem their folly193, but was really their fate, or, rather, the Providence194 of God, who has doubtless a work for us to do, in which the massive materiality of the English character would have been too ponderous195 a dead-weight upon our progress. And, besides, if England had been wise enough to twine196 our new vigor197 round about her ancient strength, her power would have been too firmly established ever to yield, in its due season, to the otherwise immutable198 law of imperial vicissitude199. The earth might then have beheld the intolerable spectacle of a sovereignty and institutions, imperfect, but indestructible.
Nationally, there has ceased to be any peril of so inauspicious and yet outwardly attractive an amalgamation200. But as an individual, the American is often conscious of the deep-rooted sympathies that belong more fitly to times gone by, and feels a blind pathetic tendency to wander back again, which makes itself evident in such wild dreams as I have alluded201 to above, about English inheritances. A mere87 coincidence of names (the Yankee one, perhaps, having been assumed by legislative202 permission), a supposititious pedigree, a silver mug on which an anciently engraved203 coat-of-arms has been half scrubbed out, a seal with an uncertain crest204, an old yellow letter or document in faded ink, the more scantily205 legible the better,—rubbish of this kind, found in a neglected drawer, has been potent206 enough to turn the brain of many an honest Republican, especially if assisted by an advertisement for lost heirs, cut out of a British newspaper. There is no estimating or believing, till we come into a position to know it, what foolery lurks207 latent in the breasts of very sensible people. Remembering such sober extravagances, I should not be at all surprised to find that I am myself guilty of some unsuspected absurdity, that may appear to me the most substantial trait in my character.
I might fill many pages with instances of this diseased American appetite for English soil. A respectable-looking woman, well advanced in life, of sour aspect, exceedingly homely208, but decidedly New-Englandish in figure and manners, came to my office with a great bundle of documents, at the very first glimpse of which I apprehended210 something terrible. Nor was I mistaken. The bundle contained evidences of her indubitable claim to the site on which Castle Street, the Town Hall, the Exchange, and all the principal business part of Liverpool have long been situated211; and with considerable peremptoriness212, the good lady signified her expectation that I should take charge of her suit, and prosecute213 it to judgment214; not, however, on the equitable215 condition of receiving half the value of the property recovered (which, in case of complete success, would have made both of us ten or twenty fold millionaires), but without recompense or reimbursement216 of legal expenses, solely as an incident of my official duty. Another time came two ladies, bearing a letter of emphatic217 introduction from his Excellency the Governor of their native State, who testified in most satisfactory terms to their social respectability. They were claimants of a great estate in Cheshire, and announced themselves as blood-relatives of Queen Victoria,—a point, however, which they deemed it expedient to keep in the background until their territorial218 rights should be established, apprehending219 that the Lord High Chancellor220 might otherwise be less likely to come to a fair decision in respect to them, from a probable disinclination to admit new members into the royal kin11. Upon my honor, I imagine that they had an eye to the possibility of the eventual221 succession of one or both of them to the crown of Great Britain through superiority of title over the Brunswick line; although, being maiden222 ladies, like their predecessor65 Elizabeth, they could hardly have hoped to establish a lasting223 dynasty upon the throne. It proves, I trust, a certain disinterestedness224 on my part, that, encountering them thus in the dawn of their fortunes, I forbore to put in a plea for a future dukedom.
Another visitor of the same class was a gentleman of refined manners, handsome figure, and remarkably intellectual aspect. Like many men of an adventurous225 cast, he had so quiet a deportment, and such an apparent disinclination to general sociability226, that you would have fancied him moving always along some peaceful and secluded227 walk of life. Yet, literally228 from his first hour, he had been tossed upon the surges of a most varied and tumultuous existence, having been born at sea, of American parentage, but on board of a Spanish vessel229, and spending many of the subsequent years in voyages, travels, and outlandish incidents and vicissitudes230, which, methought, had hardly been paralleled since the days of Gulliver or De Foe231. When his dignified232 reserve was overcome, he had the faculty233 of narrating234 these adventures with wonderful eloquence235, working up his descriptive sketches236 with such intuitive perception of the picturesque237 points that the whole was thrown forward with a positively238 illusive239 effect, like matters of your own visual experience. In fact, they were so admirably done that I could never more than half believe them, because the genuine affairs of life are not apt to transact240 themselves so artistically241. Many of his scenes were laid in the East, and among those seldom-visited archipelagoes of the Indian Ocean, so that there was an Oriental fragrance242 breathing through his talk and an odor of the Spice Islands still lingering in his garments. He had much to say of the delightful50 qualities of the Malay pirates, who, indeed, carry on a predatory warfare243 against the ships of all civilized244 nations, and cut every Christian245 throat among their prisoners; but (except for deeds of that character, which are the rule and habit of their life, and matter of religion and conscience with them) they are a gentle-natured people, of primitive246 innocence247 and integrity.
But his best story was about a race of men (if men they were) who seemed so fully52 to realize Swift's wicked fable248 of the Yahoos, that my friend was much exercised with psychological speculations249 whether or no they had any souls. They dwelt in the wilds of Ceylon, like other savage250 beasts, hairy, and spotted251 with tufts of fur, filthy252, shameless, weaponless (though warlike in their individual bent), tool-less, houseless, language-less, except for a few guttural sounds, hideously253 dissonant254, whereby they held some rudest kind of communication among themselves. They lacked both memory and foresight, and were wholly destitute255 of government, social institutions, or law or rulership of any description, except the immediate151 tyranny of the strongest; radically257 untamable, moreover, save that the people of the country managed to subject a few of the less ferocious258 and stupid ones to outdoor servitude among their other cattle. They were beastly in almost all their attributes, and that to such a degree that the observer, losing sight of any link betwixt them and manhood, could generally witness their brutalities without greater horror than at those of some disagreeable quadruped in a menagerie. And yet, at times, comparing what were the lowest general traits in his own race with what was highest in these abominable259 monsters, he found a ghastly similitude that half compelled him to recognize them as human brethren.
After these Gulliverian researches, my agreeable acquaintance had fallen under the ban of the Dutch government, and had suffered (this, at least, being matter of fact) nearly two years' imprisonment260, with confiscation261 of a large amount of property, for which Mr. Belmont, our minister at the Hague, had just made a peremptory262 demand of reimbursement and damages. Meanwhile, since arriving in England on his way to the United States, he had been providentially led to inquire into the circumstances of his birth on shipboard, and had discovered that not himself alone, but another baby, had come into the world during the same voyage of the prolific263 vessel, and that there were almost irrefragable reasons for believing that these two children had been assigned to the wrong mothers. Many reminiscences of his early days confirmed him in the idea that his nominal264 parents were aware of the exchange. The family to which he felt authorized266 to attribute his lineage was that of a nobleman, in the picture-gallery of whose country-seat (whence, if I mistake not, our adventurous friend had just returned) he had discovered a portrait bearing a striking resemblance to himself. As soon as he should have reported the outrageous267 action of the Dutch government to President Pierce and the Secretary of State, and recovered the confiscated268 property, he purposed to return to England and establish his claim to the nobleman's title and estate.
I had accepted his Oriental fantasies (which, indeed, to do him justice, have been recorded by scientific societies among the genuine phenomena269 of natural history), not as matters of indubitable credence270, but as allowable specimens of an imaginative traveller's vivid coloring and rich embroidery271 on the coarse texture272 and dull neutral tints273 of truth. The English romance was among the latest communications that he intrusted to my private ear; and as soon as I heard the first chapter,—so wonderfully akin86 to what I might have wrought274 out of my own head, not unpractised in such figments,—I began to repent275 having made myself responsible for the future nobleman's passage homeward in the next Collins steamer. Nevertheless, should his English rent-roll fall a little behindhand, his Dutch claim for a hundred thousand dollars was certainly in the hands of our government, and might at least be valuable to the extent of thirty pounds, which I had engaged to pay on his behalf. But I have reason to fear that his Dutch riches turned out to be Dutch gilt276, or fairy gold, and his English country-seat a mere castle in the air,—which I exceedingly regret, for he was a delightful companion and a very gentlemanly man.
A Consul, in his position of universal responsibility, the general adviser277 and helper, sometimes finds himself compelled to assume the guardianship278 of personages who, in their own sphere, are supposed capable of superintending the highest interests of whole communities. An elderly Irishman, a naturalized citizen, once put the desire and expectation of all our penniless vagabonds into a very suitable phrase, by pathetically entreating279 me to be a "father to him"; and, simple as I sit scribbling280 here, I have acted a father's part, not only by scores of such unthrifty old children as himself, but by a progeny281 of far loftier pretensions282. It may be well for persons who are conscious of any radical256 weakness in their character, any besetting283 sin, any unlawful propensity284, any unhallowed impulse, which (while surrounded with the manifold restraints that protect a man from that treacherous285 and lifelong enemy, his lower self, in the circle of society where he is at home) they may have succeeded in keeping under the lock and key of strictest propriety286,—it may be well for them, before seeking the perilous287 freedom of a distant land, released from the watchful288 eyes of neighborhoods and coteries289, lightened of that wearisome burden, an immaculate name, and blissfully obscure after years of local prominence,—it may be well for such individuals to know that when they set foot on a foreign shore, the long-imprisoned Evil, scenting290 a wild license291 in the unaccustomed atmosphere, is apt to grow riotous292 in its iron cage. It rattles293 the rusty294 barriers with gigantic turbulence295, and if there be an infirm joint296 anywhere in the framework, it breaks madly forth, compressing the mischief297 of a lifetime into a little space.
A parcel of letters had been accumulating at the Consulate for two or three weeks, directed to a certain Doctor of Divinity, who had left America by a sailing-packet and was still upon the sea. In due time, the vessel arrived, and the reverend Doctor paid me a visit. He was a fine-looking middle-aged299 gentleman, a perfect model of clerical propriety, scholar-like, yet with the air of a man of the world rather than a student, though overspread with the graceful300 sanctity of a popular metropolitan301 divine, a part of whose duty it might be to exemplify the natural accordance between Christianity and good-breeding. He seemed a little excited, as an American is apt to be on first arriving in England, but conversed302 with intelligence as well as animation303, making himself so agreeable that his visit stood out in considerable relief from the monotony of my daily commonplace. As I learned from authentic304 sources, he was somewhat distinguished in his own region for fervor305 and eloquence in the pulpit, but was now compelled to relinquish306 it temporarily for the purpose of renovating307 his impaired308 health by an extensive tour in Europe. Promising309 to dine with me, he took up his bundle of letters and went away.
The Doctor, however, failed to make his appearance at dinner-time, or to apologize the next day for his absence; and in the course of a day or two more, I forgot all about him, concluding that he must have set forth on his Continental travels, the plan of which he had sketched310 out at our interview. But, by and by, I received a call from the master of the vessel in which he had arrived. He was in some alarm about his passenger, whose luggage remained on shipboard, but of whom nothing had been heard or seen since the moment of his departure from the Consulate. We conferred together, the captain and I, about the expediency311 of setting the police on the traces (if any were to be found) of our vanished friend; but it struck me that the good captain was singularly reticent312, and that there was something a little mysterious in a few points that he hinted at rather than expressed; so that, scrutinizing313 the affair carefully, I surmised314 that the intimacy315 of life on shipboard might have taught him more about the reverend gentleman than, for some reason or other, he deemed it prudent to reveal. At home, in our native country, I would have looked to the Doctor's personal safety and left his reputation to take care of itself, knowing that the good fame of a thousand saintly clergymen would amply dazzle out any lamentable317 spot on a single brother's character. But in scornful and invidious England, on the idea that the credit of the sacred office was measurably intrusted to my discretion318, I could not endure, for the sake of American Doctors of Divinity generally, that this particular Doctor should cut an ignoble319 figure in the police reports of the English newspapers, except at the last necessity. The clerical body, I flatter myself, will acknowledge that I acted on their own principle. Besides, it was now too late; the mischief and violence, if any had been impending320, were not of a kind which it requires the better part of a week to perpetrate; and to sum up the entire matter, I felt certain, from a good deal of somewhat similar experience, that, if the missing Doctor still breathed this vital air, he would turn up at the Consulate as soon as his money should be stolen or spent.
Precisely a week after this reverend person's disappearance321, there came to my office a tall, middle-aged gentleman in a blue military surtout, braided at the seams, but out at elbows, and as shabby as if the wearer had been bivouacking in it throughout a Crimean campaign. It was buttoned up to the very chin, except where three or four of the buttons were lost; nor was there any glimpse of a white shirt-collar illuminating322 the rusty black cravat323. A grisly mustache was just beginning to roughen the stranger's upper lip. He looked disreputable to the last degree, but still had a ruined air of good society glimmering324 about him, like a few specks325 of polish on a sword-blade that has lain corroding326 in a mud-puddle. I took him to be some American marine officer, of dissipated habits, or perhaps a cashiered British major, stumbling into the wrong quarters through the unrectified bewilderment of last night's debauch327. He greeted me, however, with polite familiarity, as though we had been previously328 acquainted; whereupon I drew coldly back (as sensible people naturally do, whether from strangers or former friends, when too evidently at odds329 with fortune) and requested to know who my visitor might be, and what was his business at the Consulate. "Am I then so changed?" he exclaimed with a vast depth of tragic330 intonation331; and after a little blind and bewildered talk, behold332! the truth flashed upon me. It was the Doctor of Divinity! If I had meditated333 a scene or a coup334 de theatre, I could not have contrived a more effectual one than by this simple and genuine difficulty of recognition. The poor Divine must have felt that he had lost his personal identity through the misadventures of one little week. And, to say the truth, he did look as if, like Job, on account of his especial sanctity, he had been delivered over to the direst temptations of Satan, and proving weaker than the man of Uz, the Arch Enemy had been empowered to drag him through Tophet, transforming him, in the process, from the most decorous of metropolitan clergymen into the rowdiest and dirtiest of disbanded officers. I never fathomed335 the mystery of his military costume, but conjectured336 that a lurking337 sense of fitness had induced him to exchange his clerical garments for this habit of a sinner; nor can I tell precisely into what pitfall338, not more of vice than terrible calamity339, he had precipitated340 himself,—being more than satisfied to know that the outcasts of society can sink no lower than this poor, desecrated341 wretch21 had sunk.
The opportunity, I presume, does not often happen to a layman342, of administering moral and religious reproof343 to a Doctor of Divinity; but finding the occasion thrust upon me, and the hereditary344 Puritan waxing strong in my breast, I deemed it a matter of conscience not to let it pass entirely345 unimproved. The truth is, I was unspeakably shocked and disgusted. Not, however, that I was then to learn that clergymen are made of the same flesh and blood as other people, and perhaps lack one small safeguard which the rest of us possess, because they are aware of their own peccability, and therefore cannot look up to the clerical class for the proof of the possibility of a pure life on earth, with such reverential confidence as we are prone346 to do. But I remembered the innocent faith of my boyhood, and the good old silver-headed clergyman, who seemed to me as much a saint then on earth as he is now in heaven, and partly for whose sake, through all these darkening years, I retain a devout347, though not intact nor unwavering respect for the entire fraternity. What a hideous36 wrong, therefore, had the backslider inflicted348 on his brethren, and still more on me, who much needed whatever fragments of broken reverence349 (broken, not as concerned religion, but its earthly institutions and professors) it might yet be possible to patch into a sacred image! Should all pulpits and communion-tables have thenceforth a stain upon them, and the guilty one go unrebuked for it? So I spoke92 to the unhappy man as I never thought myself warranted in speaking to any other mortal, hitting him hard, doing my utmost to find out his vulnerable part, and prick351 him into the depths of it. And not without more effect than I had dreamed of, or desired!
No doubt, the novelty of the Doctor's reversed position, thus standing111 up to receive such a fulmination as the clergy316 have heretofore arrogated352 the exclusive right of inflicting353, might give additional weight and sting to the words which I found utterance354 for. But there was another reason (which, had I in the least suspected it, would have closed my lips at once) for his feeling morbidly355 sensitive to the cruel rebuke350 that I administered. The unfortunate man had come to me, laboring356 under one of the consequences of his riotous outbreak, in the shape of delirium357 tremens; he bore a hell within the compass of his own breast, all the torments358 of which blazed up with tenfold inveteracy359 when I thus took upon myself the Devil's office of stirring up the red-hot embers. His emotions, as well as the external movement and expression of them by voice, countenance, and gesture, were terribly exaggerated by the tremendous vibration360 of nerves resulting from the disease. It was the deepest tragedy I ever witnessed. I know sufficiently, from that one experience, how a condemned361 soul would manifest its agonies; and for the future, if I have anything to do with sinners, I mean to operate upon them through sympathy, and not rebuke. What had I to do with rebuking362 him? The disease, long latent in his heart, had shown itself in a frightful363 eruption364 on the surface of his life. That was all! Is it a thing to scold the sufferer for?
To conclude this wretched story, the poor Doctor of Divinity, having been robbed of all his money in this little airing beyond the limits of propriety, was easily persuaded to give up the intended tour and return to his bereaved365 flock, who, very probably, were thereafter conscious of an increased unction in his soul-stirring eloquence, without suspecting the awful depths into which their pastor366 had dived in quest of it. His voice is now silent. I leave it to members of his own profession to decide whether it was better for him thus to sin outright367, and so to be let into the miserable368 secret what manner of man he was, or to have gone through life outwardly unspotted, making the first discovery of his latent evil at the judgment-seat. It has occurred to me that his dire298 calamity, as both he and I regarded it, might have been the only method by which precisely such a man as himself, and so situated, could be redeemed369. He has learned, ere now, how that matter stood.
For a man, with a natural tendency to meddle370 with other people's business, there could not possibly be a more congenial sphere than the Liverpool Consulate. For myself, I had never been in the habit of feeling that I could sufficiently comprehend any particular conjunction of circumstances with human character, to justify372 me in thrusting in my awkward agency among the intricate and unintelligible373 machinery of Providence. I have always hated to give advice, especially when there is a prospect374 of its being taken. It is only one-eyed people who love to advise, or have any spontaneous promptitude of action. When a man opens both his eyes, he generally sees about as many reasons for acting375 in any one way as in any other, and quite as many for acting in neither; and is therefore likely to leave his friends to regulate their own conduct, and also to remain quiet as regards his especial affairs till necessity shall prick him onward376. Nevertheless, the world and individuals flourish upon a constant succession of blunders. The secret of English practical success lies in their characteristic faculty of shutting one eye, whereby they get so distinct and decided209 a view of what immediately concerns them that they go stumbling towards it over a hundred insurmountable obstacles, and achieve a magnificent triumph without ever being aware of half its difficulties. If General McClellan could but have shut his left eye, the right one would long ago have guided us into Richmond. Meanwhile, I have strayed far away from the Consulate, where, as I was about to say, I was compelled, in spite of my disinclination, to impart both advice and assistance in multifarious affairs that did not personally concern me, and presume that I effected about as little mischief as other men in similar contingencies377. The duties of the office carried me to prisons, police-courts, hospitals, lunatic asylums378, coroner's inquests, death-beds, funerals, and brought me in contact with insane people, criminals, ruined speculators, wild adventurers, diplomatists, brother-consuls379, and all manner of simpletons and unfortunates, in greater number and variety than I had ever dreamed of as pertaining380 to America; in addition to whom there was an equivalent multitude of English rogues381, dexterously382 counterfeiting383 the genuine Yankee article. It required great discrimination not to be taken in by these last-mentioned scoundrels; for they knew how to imitate our national traits, had been at great pains to instruct themselves as regarded American localities, and were not readily to be caught by a cross-examination as to the topographical features, public institutions, or prominent inhabitants of the places where they pretended to belong. The best shibboleth384 I ever hit upon lay in the pronunciation of the word "been," which the English invariably make to rhyme with "green," and we Northerners, at least (in accordance, I think, with the custom of Shakespeare's time), universally pronounce "bin385."
All the matters that I have been treating of, however, were merely incidental, and quite distinct from the real business of the office. A great part of the wear and tear of mind and temper resulted from the bad relations between the seamen and officers of American ships. Scarcely a morning passed, but that some sailor came to show the marks of his ill-usage on shipboard. Often, it was a whole crew of them, each with his broken head or livid bruise19, and all testifying with one voice to a constant series of savage outrages386 during the voyage; or, it might be, they laid an accusation387 of actual murder, perpetrated by the first or second officers with many blows of steel-knuckles, a rope's end, or a marline-spike, or by the captain, in the twinkling of an eye, with a shot of his pistol. Taking the seamen's view of the case, you would suppose that the gibbet was hungry for the murderers. Listening to the captain's defence, you would seem to discover that he and his officers were the humanest of mortals, but were driven to a wholesome389 severity by the mutinous390 conduct of the crew, who, moreover, had themselves slain391 their comrade in the drunken riot and confusion of the first day or two after they were shipped. Looked at judicially392, there appeared to be no right side to the matter, nor any right side possible in so thoroughly vicious a system as that of the American mercantile marine. The Consul could do little, except to take depositions393, hold forth the greasy Testament to be profaned394 anew with perjured kisses, and, in a few instances of murder or manslaughter, carry the case before an English magistrate395, who generally decided that the evidence was too contradictory396 to authorize265 the transmission of the accused for trial in America. The newspapers all over England contained paragraphs, inveighing397 against the cruelties of American shipmasters. The British Parliament took up the matter (for nobody is so humane388 as John Bull, when his benevolent398 propensities399 are to be gratified by finding fault with his neighbor), and caused Lord John Russell to remonstrate400 with our government on the outrages for which it was responsible before the world, and which it failed to prevent or punish. The American Secretary of State, old General Cass, responded, with perfectly401 astounding402 ignorance of the subject, to the effect that the statements of outrages had probably been exaggerated, that the present laws of the United States were quite adequate to deal with them, and that the interference of the British Minister was uncalled for.
The truth is, that the state of affairs was really very horrible, and could be met by no laws at that time (or I presume now) in existence. I once thought of writing a pamphlet on the subject, but quitted the Consulate before finding time to effect my purpose; and all that phase of my life immediately assumed so dreamlike a consistency403 that I despaired of making it seem solid or tangible404 to the public. And now it looks distant and dim, like troubles of a century ago. The origin of the evil lay in the character of the seamen, scarcely any of whom were American, but the offscourings and refuse of all the seaports405 of the world, such stuff as piracy406 is made of, together with a considerable intermixture of returning emigrants407, and a sprinkling of absolutely kidnapped American citizens. Even with such material, the ships were very inadequately408 manned. The shipmaster found himself upon the deep, with a vast responsibility of property and human life upon his hands, and no means of salvation409 except by compelling his inefficient410 and demoralized crew to heavier exertions411 than could reasonably be required of the same number of able seamen. By law he had been intrusted with no discretion of judicious412 punishment, he therefore habitually413 left the whole matter of discipline to his irresponsible mates, men often of scarcely a superior quality to the crew. Hence ensued a great mass of petty outrages, unjustifiable assaults, shameful414 indignities415, and nameless cruelty, demoralizing alike to the perpetrators and the sufferers; these enormities fell into the ocean between the two countries, and could be punished in neither. Many miserable stories come back upon my memory as I write; wrongs that were immense, but for which nobody could be held responsible, and which, indeed, the closer you looked into them, the more they lost the aspect of wilful416 misdoing and assumed that of an inevitable417 calamity. It was the fault of a system, the misfortune of an individual. Be that as it may, however, there will be no possibility of dealing effectually with these troubles as long as we deem it inconsistent with our national dignity or interests to allow the English courts, under such restrictions418 as may seem fit, a jurisdiction419 over offences perpetrated on board our vessels420 in mid-ocean.
In such a life as this, the American shipmaster develops himself into a man of iron energies, dauntless courage, and inexhaustible resource, at the expense, it must be acknowledged, of some of the higher and gentler traits which might do him excellent service in maintaining his authority. The class has deteriorated421 of late years on account of the narrower field of selection, owing chiefly to the diminution422 of that excellent body of respectably educated New England seamen, from the flower of whom the officers used to be recruited. Yet I found them, in many cases, very agreeable and intelligent companions, with less nonsense about them than landsmen usually have, eschewers of fine-spun theories, delighting in square and tangible ideas, but occasionally infested423 with prejudices that stuck to their brains like barnacles to a ship's bottom. I never could flatter myself that I was a general favorite with them. One or two, perhaps, even now, would scarcely meet me on amicable424 terms. Endowed universally with a great pertinacity of will, they especially disliked the interference of a consul with their management on shipboard; notwithstanding which I thrust in my very limited authority at every available opening, and did the utmost that lay in my power, though with lamentably425 small effect, towards enforcing a better kind of discipline. They thought, no doubt (and on plausible426 grounds enough, but scarcely appreciating just that one little grain of hard New England sense, oddly thrown in among the flimsier composition of the Consul's character), that he, a landsman, a bookman, and, as people said of him, a fanciful recluse427, could not possibly understand anything of the difficulties or the necessities of a shipmaster's position. But their cold regards were rather acceptable than otherwise, for it is exceedingly awkward to assume a judicial austerity in the morning towards a man with whom you have been hobnobbing over night.
With the technical details of the business of that great Consulate (for great it then was, though now, I fear, wofully fallen off, and perhaps never to be revived in anything like its former extent), I did not much interfere. They could safely be left to the treatment of two as faithful, upright, and competent subordinates, both Englishmen, as ever a man was fortunate enough to meet with, in a line of life altogether new and strange to him. I had come over with instructions to supply both their places with Americans, but, possessing a happy faculty of knowing my own interest and the public's, I quietly kept hold of them, being little inclined to open the consular doors to a spy of the State Department or an intriguer428 for my own office. The venerable Vice-Consul, Mr. Pearce, had witnessed the successive arrivals of a score of newly appointed Consuls, shadowy and short-lived dignitaries, and carried his reminiscences back to the epoch429 of Consul Maury, who was appointed by Washington, and has acquired almost the grandeur430 of a mythical431 personage in the annals of the Consulate. The principal clerk, Mr. Wilding, who has since succeeded to the Vice-Consulship, was a man of English integrity,—not that the English are more honest than ourselves, but only there is a certain sturdy reliableness common among them, which we do not quite so invariably manifest in just these subordinate positions,—of English integrity, combined with American acuteness of intellect, quick-wittedness, and diversity of talent. It seemed an immense pity that he should wear out his life at a desk, without a step in advance from year's end to year's end, when, had it been his luck to be born on our side of the water, his bright faculties432 and clear probity433 would have insured him eminent434 success in whatever path he night adopt. Meanwhile, it would have been a sore mischance to me, had any better fortune on his part deprived me of Mr. Wilding's services.
A fair amount of common-sense, some acquaintance with the United States Statutes, an insight into character, a tact47 of management, a general knowledge of the world, and a reasonable but not too inveterately435 decided preference for his own will and judgment over those of interested people,—these natural attributes and moderate acquirements will enable a consul to perform many of his duties respectably, but not to dispense436 with a great variety of other qualifications, only attainable437 by long experience. Yet, I think, few consuls are so well accomplished. An appointment of whatever grade, in the diplomatic or consular service of America, is too often what the English call a "job"; that is to say, it is made on private and personal grounds, without a paramount438 eye to the public good or the gentleman's especial fitness for the position. It is not too much to say (of course allowing for a brilliant exception here and there), that an American never is thoroughly qualified439 for a foreign post, nor has time to make himself so, before the revolution of the political wheel discards him from his office. Our country wrongs itself by permitting such a system of unsuitable appointments, and, still more, of removals for no cause, just when the incumbent440 might be beginning to ripen441 into usefulness. Mere ignorance of official detail is of comparatively small moment; though it is considered indispensable, I presume, that a man in any private capacity shall be thoroughly acquainted with the machinery and operation of his business, and shall not necessarily lose his position on having attained such knowledge. But there are so many more important things to be thought of, in the qualifications of a foreign resident, that his technical dexterity442 or clumsiness is hardly worth mentioning.
One great part of a consul's duty, for example, should consist in building up for himself a recognized position in the society where he resides, so that his local influence might be felt in behalf of his own country, and, so far as they are compatible (as they generally are to the utmost extent), for the interests of both nations. The foreign city should know that it has a permanent inhabitant and a hearty443 well-wisher in him. There are many conjunctures (and one of them is now upon us) where a long-established, honored, and trusted American citizen, holding a public position under our government in such a town as Liverpool, might go far towards swaying and directing the sympathies of the inhabitants. He might throw his own weight into the balance against mischief makers444; he might have set his foot on the first little spark of malignant445 purpose, which the next wind may blow into a national war. But we wilfully446 give up all advantages of this kind. The position is totally beyond the attainment447 of an American; there to-day, bristling448 all over with the porcupine449 quills450 of our Republic, and gone to-morrow, just as he is becoming sensible of the broader and more generous patriotism which might almost amalgamate451 with that of England, without losing an atom of its native force and flavor. In the changes that appear to await us, and some of which, at least, can hardly fail to be for good, let us hope for a reform in this matter.
For myself, as the gentle reader would spare me the trouble of saying, I was not at all the kind of man to grow into such an ideal Consul as I have here suggested. I never in my life desired to be burdened with public influence. I disliked my office from the first, and never came into any good accordance with it. Its dignity, so far as it had any, was an encumbrance452; the attentions it drew upon me (such as invitations to Mayor's banquets and public celebrations of all kinds, where, to my horror, I found myself expected to stand up and speak) were—as I may say without incivility or ingratitude453, because there is nothing personal in that sort of hospitality—a bore. The official business was irksome, and often painful. There was nothing pleasant about the whole affair, except the emoluments454; and even those, never too bountifully reaped, were diminished by more than half in the second or third year of my incumbency. All this being true, I was quite prepared, in advance of the inauguration455 of Mr. Buchanan, to send in my resignation. When my successor arrived, I drew the long, delightful breath which first made me thoroughly sensible what an unnatural456 life I had been leading, and compelled me to admire myself for having battled with it so sturdily. The newcomer proved to be a very genial371 and agreeable gentleman, an F. F. V., and, as he pleasantly acknowledged, a Southern Fire Eater, —an announcement to which I responded, with similar good-humor and self-complacency, by parading my descent from an ancient line of Massachusetts Puritans. Since our brief acquaintanceship, my fire-eating friend has had ample opportunities to banquet on his favorite diet, hot and hot, in the Confederate service. For myself, as soon as I was out of office, the retrospect began to look unreal. I could scarcely believe that it was I,—that figure whom they called a Consul,—but a sort of Double Ganger, who had been permitted to assume my aspect, under which he went through his shadowy duties with a tolerable show of efficiency, while my real self had lain, as regarded my proper mode of being and acting, in a state of suspended animation.
The same sense of illusion still pursues me. There is some mistake in this matter. I have been writing about another man's consular experiences, with which, through some mysterious medium of transmitted ideas, I find myself intimately acquainted, but in which I cannot possibly have had a personal interest. Is it not a dream altogether? The figure of that poor Doctor of Divinity looks wonderfully lifelike; so do those of the Oriental adventurer with the visionary coronet above his brow, and the moonstruck visitor of the Queen, and the poor old wanderer, seeking his native country through English highways and by-ways for almost thirty years; and so would a hundred others that I might summon up with similar distinctness. But were they more than shadows? Surely, I think not. Nor are these present pages a bit of intrusive457 autobiography458. Let not the reader wrong me by supposing it. I never should have written with half such unreserve, had it been a portion of this life congenial with my nature, which I am living now, instead of a series of incidents and characters entirely apart from my own concerns, and on which the qualities personally proper to me could have had no bearing. Almost the only real incidents, as I see them now, were the visits of a young English friend, a scholar and a literary amateur, between whom and myself there sprung up an affectionate, and, I trust, not transitory regard. He used to come and sit or stand by my fireside, talking vivaciously459 and eloquently460 with me about literature and life, his own national characteristics and mine, with such kindly endurance of the many rough republicanisms wherewith I assailed461 him, and such frank and amiable462 assertion of all sorts of English prejudices and mistakes, that I understood his countrymen infinitely the better for him, and was almost prepared to love the intensest Englishman of them all, for his sake. It would gratify my cherished remembrance of this dear friend, if I could manage, without offending him, or letting the public know it, to introduce his name upon my page. Bright was the illumination of my dusky little apartment, as often as he made his appearance there!
The English sketches which I have been offering to the public comprise a few of the more external and therefore more readily manageable things that I took note of, in many escapes from the imprisonment of my consular servitude. Liverpool, though not very delightful as a place of residence, is a most convenient and admirable point to get away from. London is only five hours off by the fast train. Chester, the most curious town in England, with its encompassing463 wall, its ancient rows, and its venerable cathedral, is close at hand. North Wales, with all its hills and ponds, its noble sea-scenery, its multitude of gray castles and strange old villages, may be glanced at in a summer day or two. The lakes and mountains of Cumberland and Westmoreland may be reached before dinner-time. The haunted and legendary464 Isle465 of Man, a little kingdom by itself, lies within the scope of an afternoon's voyage. Edinburgh or Glasgow are attainable over night, and Loch Lomond betimes in the morning. Visiting these famous localities, and a great many others, I hope that I do not compromise my American patriotism by acknowledging that I was often conscious of a fervent466 hereditary attachment467 to the native soil of our forefathers, and felt it to be our own Old Home.
点击收听单词发音
1 consul | |
n.领事;执政官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 consulate | |
n.领事馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 edifice | |
n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿,教室) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 arcade | |
n.拱廊;(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 scone | |
n.圆饼,甜饼,司康饼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 consular | |
a.领事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 surmounting | |
战胜( surmount的现在分词 ); 克服(困难); 居于…之上; 在…顶上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 pictorial | |
adj.绘画的;图片的;n.画报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 thronged | |
v.成群,挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 kin | |
n.家族,亲属,血缘关系;adj.亲属关系的,同类的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 purporting | |
v.声称是…,(装得)像是…的样子( purport的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 marine | |
adj.海的;海生的;航海的;海事的;n.水兵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 maritime | |
adj.海的,海事的,航海的,近海的,沿海的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 seamen | |
n.海员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 specimens | |
n.样品( specimen的名词复数 );范例;(化验的)抽样;某种类型的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 invalids | |
病人,残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 bruise | |
n.青肿,挫伤;伤痕;vt.打青;挫伤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 wretches | |
n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 );可怜的人;恶棍;坏蛋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 flannel | |
n.法兰绒;法兰绒衣服 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 grievances | |
n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 );苦衷;不满;牢骚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 exterior | |
adj.外部的,外在的;表面的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 courteously | |
adv.有礼貌地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 judicial | |
adj.司法的,法庭的,审判的,明断的,公正的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 administrative | |
adj.行政的,管理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 warehouse | |
n.仓库;vt.存入仓库 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 sunder | |
v.分开;隔离;n.分离,分开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 naval | |
adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 lithograph | |
n.平板印刷,平板画;v.用平版印刷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 hideousness | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 bust | |
vt.打破;vi.爆裂;n.半身像;胸部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 pilloried | |
v.使受公众嘲笑( pillory的过去式和过去分词 );将…示众;给…上颈手枷;处…以枷刑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 truculence | |
n.凶猛,粗暴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 stolid | |
adj.无动于衷的,感情麻木的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 obdurate | |
adj.固执的,顽固的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 mortified | |
v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 );伤害(人的感情);克制;抑制(肉体、情感等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 tact | |
n.机敏,圆滑,得体 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 patriotism | |
n.爱国精神,爱国心,爱国主义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 delightfully | |
大喜,欣然 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 barometer | |
n.气压表,睛雨表,反应指标 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 superfluously | |
过分地; 过剩地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 inventory | |
n.详细目录,存货清单 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 statutes | |
成文法( statute的名词复数 ); 法令; 法规; 章程 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 testament | |
n.遗嘱;证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 perjured | |
adj.伪证的,犯伪证罪的v.发假誓,作伪证( perjure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 stifled | |
(使)窒息, (使)窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 ); 镇压,遏制; 堵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 predecessor | |
n.前辈,前任 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 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: |
|
|
67 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 incumbency | |
n.职责,义务 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 proscribed | |
v.正式宣布(某事物)有危险或被禁止( proscribe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 conspirators | |
n.共谋者,阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 distressingly | |
adv. 令人苦恼地;悲惨地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 nucleus | |
n.核,核心,原子核 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 vagrant | |
n.流浪者,游民;adj.流浪的,漂泊不定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 citizenship | |
n.市民权,公民权,国民的义务(身份) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 outlaws | |
歹徒,亡命之徒( outlaw的名词复数 ); 逃犯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 patriots | |
爱国者,爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 vitality | |
n.活力,生命力,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 peculiarity | |
n.独特性,特色;特殊的东西;怪癖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 defiant | |
adj.无礼的,挑战的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 chiselled | |
adj.凿过的,凿光的; (文章等)精心雕琢的v.凿,雕,镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 akin | |
adj.同族的,类似的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 retrospect | |
n.回顾,追溯;v.回顾,回想,追溯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 abrupt | |
adj.突然的,意外的;唐突的,鲁莽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 vouchsafing | |
v.给予,赐予( vouchsafe的现在分词 );允诺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 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: |
|
|
96 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 auditor | |
n.审计员,旁听着 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 gateway | |
n.大门口,出入口,途径,方法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 continental | |
adj.大陆的,大陆性的,欧洲大陆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 aesthetic | |
adj.美学的,审美的,有美感 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 peregrination | |
n.游历,旅行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 ingenuous | |
adj.纯朴的,单纯的;天真的;坦率的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 reimbursing | |
v.偿还,付还( reimburse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 incur | |
vt.招致,蒙受,遭遇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 averred | |
v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 );证实;证明…属实;作为事实提出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 foresight | |
n.先见之明,深谋远虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 pathos | |
n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 steadfastly | |
adv.踏实地,不变地;岿然;坚定不渝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 edifices | |
n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 subsisted | |
v.(靠很少的钱或食物)维持生活,生存下去( subsist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 distinctive | |
adj.特别的,有特色的,与众不同的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 entreaty | |
n.恳求,哀求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 ballad | |
n.歌谣,民谣,流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 sluggishness | |
不振,萧条,呆滞;惰性;滞性;惯性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 torpor | |
n.迟钝;麻木;(动物的)冬眠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 lodging | |
n.寄宿,住所;(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 guise | |
n.外表,伪装的姿态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 sojourn | |
v./n.旅居,寄居;逗留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 recollect | |
v.回忆,想起,记起,忆起,记得 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 entangled | |
adj.卷入的;陷入的;被缠住的;缠在一起的v.使某人(某物/自己)缠绕,纠缠于(某物中),使某人(自己)陷入(困难或复杂的环境中)( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 patronage | |
n.赞助,支援,援助;光顾,捧场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 pawn | |
n.典当,抵押,小人物,走卒;v.典当,抵押 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 pertinacity | |
n.执拗,顽固 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 raggedness | |
破烂,粗糙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 supplication | |
n.恳求,祈愿,哀求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 absurdity | |
n.荒谬,愚蠢;谬论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 placid | |
adj.安静的,平和的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 remonstrance | |
n抗议,抱怨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 rigidly | |
adv.刻板地,僵化地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 tenacious | |
adj.顽强的,固执的,记忆力强的,粘的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 proximity | |
n.接近,邻近 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 interfere | |
v.(in)干涉,干预;(with)妨碍,打扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 procure | |
vt.获得,取得,促成;vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 obduracy | |
n.冷酷无情,顽固,执拗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 bamboozled | |
v.欺骗,使迷惑( bamboozle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 subsisting | |
v.(靠很少的钱或食物)维持生活,生存下去( subsist的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 pittance | |
n.微薄的薪水,少量 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 assailing | |
v.攻击( assail的现在分词 );困扰;质问;毅然应对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 besought | |
v.恳求,乞求(某事物)( beseech的过去式和过去分词 );(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 remonstrances | |
n.抱怨,抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 ministry | |
n.(政府的)部;牧师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 insanity | |
n.疯狂,精神错乱;极端的愚蠢,荒唐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 vindictive | |
adj.有报仇心的,怀恨的,惩罚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 forefathers | |
n.祖先,先人;祖先,祖宗( forefather的名词复数 );列祖列宗;前人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 asunder | |
adj.分离的,化为碎片 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 tug | |
v.用力拖(或拉);苦干;n.拖;苦干;拖船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 lengthening | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的现在分词 ); 加长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 severed | |
v.切断,断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 );断,裂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 boorishness | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 stolidity | |
n.迟钝,感觉麻木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 twine | |
v.搓,织,编饰;(使)缠绕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 vigor | |
n.活力,精力,元气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 immutable | |
adj.不可改变的,永恒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 vicissitude | |
n.变化,变迁,荣枯,盛衰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 amalgamation | |
n.合并,重组;;汞齐化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 legislative | |
n.立法机构,立法权;adj.立法的,有立法权的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 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: |
|
|
204 crest | |
n.顶点;饰章;羽冠;vt.达到顶点;vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 scantily | |
adv.缺乏地;不充足地;吝啬地;狭窄地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 potent | |
adj.强有力的,有权势的;有效力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 lurks | |
n.潜在,潜伏;(lurk的复数形式)vi.潜伏,埋伏(lurk的第三人称单数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 homely | |
adj.家常的,简朴的;不漂亮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 apprehended | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 ); 理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 situated | |
adj.坐落在...的,处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 peremptoriness | |
n.专横,强制,武断 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 prosecute | |
vt.告发;进行;vi.告发,起诉,作检察官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 equitable | |
adj.公平的;公正的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 reimbursement | |
n.偿还,退还 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 territorial | |
adj.领土的,领地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 apprehending | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的现在分词 ); 理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 chancellor | |
n.(英)大臣;法官;(德、奥)总理;大学校长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 eventual | |
adj.最后的,结局的,最终的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 lasting | |
adj.永久的,永恒的;vbl.持续,维持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 disinterestedness | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 adventurous | |
adj.爱冒险的;惊心动魄的,惊险的,刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 sociability | |
n.好交际,社交性,善于交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 vicissitudes | |
n.变迁,世事变化;变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 );盛衰兴废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 foe | |
n.敌人,仇敌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
232 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
233 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
234 narrating | |
v.故事( narrate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
235 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
236 sketches | |
n.草图( sketch的名词复数 );素描;速写;梗概 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
237 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
238 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
239 illusive | |
adj.迷惑人的,错觉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
240 transact | |
v.处理;做交易;谈判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
241 artistically | |
adv.艺术性地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
242 fragrance | |
n.芬芳,香味,香气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
243 warfare | |
n.战争(状态);斗争;冲突 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
244 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
245 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
246 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
247 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
248 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
249 speculations | |
n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 );思考;投机活动;推断 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
250 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
251 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
252 filthy | |
adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
253 hideously | |
adv.可怕地,非常讨厌地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
254 dissonant | |
adj.不和谐的;不悦耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
255 destitute | |
adj.缺乏的;穷困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
256 radical | |
n.激进份子,原子团,根号;adj.根本的,激进的,彻底的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
257 radically | |
ad.根本地,本质地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
258 ferocious | |
adj.凶猛的,残暴的,极度的,十分强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
259 abominable | |
adj.可厌的,令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
260 imprisonment | |
n.关押,监禁,坐牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
261 confiscation | |
n. 没收, 充公, 征收 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
262 peremptory | |
adj.紧急的,专横的,断然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
263 prolific | |
adj.丰富的,大量的;多产的,富有创造力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
264 nominal | |
adj.名义上的;(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
265 authorize | |
v.授权,委任;批准,认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
266 authorized | |
a.委任的,许可的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
267 outrageous | |
adj.无理的,令人不能容忍的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
268 confiscated | |
没收,充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
269 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
270 credence | |
n.信用,祭器台,供桌,凭证 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
271 embroidery | |
n.绣花,刺绣;绣制品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
272 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
273 tints | |
色彩( tint的名词复数 ); 带白的颜色; (淡色)染发剂; 痕迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
274 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
275 repent | |
v.悔悟,悔改,忏悔,后悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
276 gilt | |
adj.镀金的;n.金边证券 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
277 adviser | |
n.劝告者,顾问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
278 guardianship | |
n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
279 entreating | |
恳求,乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
280 scribbling | |
n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 );乱画;草草地写;匆匆记下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
281 progeny | |
n.后代,子孙;结果 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
282 pretensions | |
自称( pretension的名词复数 ); 自命不凡; 要求; 权力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
283 besetting | |
adj.不断攻击的v.困扰( beset的现在分词 );不断围攻;镶;嵌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
284 propensity | |
n.倾向;习性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
285 treacherous | |
adj.不可靠的,有暗藏的危险的;adj.背叛的,背信弃义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
286 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
287 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
288 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
289 coteries | |
n.(有共同兴趣的)小集团( coterie的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
290 scenting | |
vt.闻到(scent的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
291 license | |
n.执照,许可证,特许;v.许可,特许 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
292 riotous | |
adj.骚乱的;狂欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
293 rattles | |
(使)发出格格的响声, (使)作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 ); 喋喋不休地说话; 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动,堕下或走动; 使紧张,使恐惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
294 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
295 turbulence | |
n.喧嚣,狂暴,骚乱,湍流 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
296 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
297 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
298 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
299 middle-aged | |
adj.中年的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
300 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
301 metropolitan | |
adj.大城市的,大都会的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
302 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
303 animation | |
n.活泼,兴奋,卡通片/动画片的制作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
304 authentic | |
a.真的,真正的;可靠的,可信的,有根据的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
305 fervor | |
n.热诚;热心;炽热 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
306 relinquish | |
v.放弃,撤回,让与,放手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
307 renovating | |
翻新,修复,整修( renovate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
308 impaired | |
adj.受损的;出毛病的;有(身体或智力)缺陷的v.损害,削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
309 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
310 sketched | |
v.草拟(sketch的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
311 expediency | |
n.适宜;方便;合算;利己 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
312 reticent | |
adj.沉默寡言的;言不如意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
313 scrutinizing | |
v.仔细检查,详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
314 surmised | |
v.臆测,推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 );揣测;猜想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
315 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
316 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
317 lamentable | |
adj.令人惋惜的,悔恨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
318 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
319 ignoble | |
adj.不光彩的,卑鄙的;可耻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
320 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句: |
|
|
321 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
322 illuminating | |
a.富于启发性的,有助阐明的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
323 cravat | |
n.领巾,领结;v.使穿有领结的服装,使结领结 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
324 glimmering | |
n.微光,隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光,发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
325 specks | |
n.眼镜;斑点,微粒,污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
326 corroding | |
使腐蚀,侵蚀( corrode的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
327 debauch | |
v.使堕落,放纵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
328 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
329 odds | |
n.让步,机率,可能性,比率;胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
330 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
331 intonation | |
n.语调,声调;发声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
332 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
333 meditated | |
深思,沉思,冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 ); 内心策划,考虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
334 coup | |
n.政变;突然而成功的行动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
335 fathomed | |
理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 ); 彻底了解; 弄清真相 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
336 conjectured | |
推测,猜测,猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
337 lurking | |
潜在 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
338 pitfall | |
n.隐患,易犯的错误;陷阱,圈套 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
339 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
340 precipitated | |
v.(突如其来地)使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 );促成;猛然摔下;使沉淀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
341 desecrated | |
毁坏或亵渎( desecrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
342 layman | |
n.俗人,门外汉,凡人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
343 reproof | |
n.斥责,责备 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
344 hereditary | |
adj.遗传的,遗传性的,可继承的,世袭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
345 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
346 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
347 devout | |
adj.虔诚的,虔敬的,衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
348 inflicted | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
349 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
350 rebuke | |
v.指责,非难,斥责 [反]praise | |
参考例句: |
|
|
351 prick | |
v.刺伤,刺痛,刺孔;n.刺伤,刺痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
352 arrogated | |
v.冒称,妄取( arrogate的过去式和过去分词 );没来由地把…归属(于) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
353 inflicting | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
354 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
355 morbidly | |
adv.病态地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
356 laboring | |
n.劳动,操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
357 delirium | |
n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
358 torments | |
(肉体或精神上的)折磨,痛苦( torment的名词复数 ); 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
359 inveteracy | |
n.根深蒂固,积习 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
360 vibration | |
n.颤动,振动;摆动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
361 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: |
|
|
362 rebuking | |
责难或指责( rebuke的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
363 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
364 eruption | |
n.火山爆发;(战争等)爆发;(疾病等)发作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
365 bereaved | |
adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去(希望、生命等)( bereave的过去式和过去分词);(尤指死亡)使丧失(亲人、朋友等);使孤寂;抢走(财物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
366 pastor | |
n.牧师,牧人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
367 outright | |
adv.坦率地;彻底地;立即;adj.无疑的;彻底的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
368 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
369 redeemed | |
adj. 可赎回的,可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
370 meddle | |
v.干预,干涉,插手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
371 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
372 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
373 unintelligible | |
adj.无法了解的,难解的,莫明其妙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
374 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
375 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
376 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
377 contingencies | |
n.偶然发生的事故,意外事故( contingency的名词复数 );以备万一 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
378 asylums | |
n.避难所( asylum的名词复数 );庇护;政治避难;精神病院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
379 consuls | |
领事( consul的名词复数 ); (古罗马共和国时期)执政官 (古罗马共和国及其军队的最高首长,同时共有两位,每年选举一次) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
380 pertaining | |
与…有关系的,附属…的,为…固有的(to) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
381 rogues | |
n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 );无赖;调皮捣蛋的人;离群的野兽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
382 dexterously | |
adv.巧妙地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
383 counterfeiting | |
n.伪造v.仿制,造假( counterfeit的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
384 shibboleth | |
n.陈规陋习;口令;暗语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
385 bin | |
n.箱柜;vt.放入箱内;[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
386 outrages | |
引起…的义愤,激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
387 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
388 humane | |
adj.人道的,富有同情心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
389 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
390 mutinous | |
adj.叛变的,反抗的;adv.反抗地,叛变地;n.反抗,叛变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
391 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
392 judicially | |
依法判决地,公平地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
393 depositions | |
沉积(物)( deposition的名词复数 ); (在法庭上的)宣誓作证; 处置; 罢免 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
394 profaned | |
v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 );亵渎,玷污 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
395 magistrate | |
n.地方行政官,地方法官,治安官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
396 contradictory | |
adj.反驳的,反对的,抗辩的;n.正反对,矛盾对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
397 inveighing | |
v.猛烈抨击,痛骂,谩骂( inveigh的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
398 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
399 propensities | |
n.倾向,习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
400 remonstrate | |
v.抗议,规劝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
401 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
402 astounding | |
adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊,使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
403 consistency | |
n.一贯性,前后一致,稳定性;(液体的)浓度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
404 tangible | |
adj.有形的,可触摸的,确凿的,实际的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
405 seaports | |
n.海港( seaport的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
406 piracy | |
n.海盗行为,剽窃,著作权侵害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
407 emigrants | |
n.(从本国移往他国的)移民( emigrant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
408 inadequately | |
ad.不够地;不够好地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
409 salvation | |
n.(尤指基督)救世,超度,拯救,解困 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
410 inefficient | |
adj.效率低的,无效的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
411 exertions | |
n.努力( exertion的名词复数 );费力;(能力、权力等的)运用;行使 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
412 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
413 habitually | |
ad.习惯地,通常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
414 shameful | |
adj.可耻的,不道德的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
415 indignities | |
n.侮辱,轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
416 wilful | |
adj.任性的,故意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
417 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
418 restrictions | |
约束( restriction的名词复数 ); 管制; 制约因素; 带限制性的条件(或规则) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
419 jurisdiction | |
n.司法权,审判权,管辖权,控制权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
420 vessels | |
n.血管( vessel的名词复数 );船;容器;(具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的)人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
421 deteriorated | |
恶化,变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
422 diminution | |
n.减少;变小 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
423 infested | |
adj.为患的,大批滋生的(常与with搭配)v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 );遍布于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
424 amicable | |
adj.和平的,友好的;友善的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
425 lamentably | |
adv.哀伤地,拙劣地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
426 plausible | |
adj.似真实的,似乎有理的,似乎可信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
427 recluse | |
n.隐居者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
428 intriguer | |
密谋者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
429 epoch | |
n.(新)时代;历元 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
430 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
431 mythical | |
adj.神话的;虚构的;想像的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
432 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
433 probity | |
n.刚直;廉洁,正直 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
434 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
435 inveterately | |
adv.根深蒂固地,积习地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
436 dispense | |
vt.分配,分发;配(药),发(药);实施 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
437 attainable | |
a.可达到的,可获得的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
438 paramount | |
a.最重要的,最高权力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
439 qualified | |
adj.合格的,有资格的,胜任的,有限制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
440 incumbent | |
adj.成为责任的,有义务的;现任的,在职的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
441 ripen | |
vt.使成熟;vi.成熟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
442 dexterity | |
n.(手的)灵巧,灵活 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
443 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
444 makers | |
n.制造者,制造商(maker的复数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
445 malignant | |
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
446 wilfully | |
adv.任性固执地;蓄意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
447 attainment | |
n.达到,到达;[常pl.]成就,造诣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
448 bristling | |
a.竖立的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
449 porcupine | |
n.豪猪, 箭猪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
450 quills | |
n.(刺猬或豪猪的)刺( quill的名词复数 );羽毛管;翮;纡管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
451 amalgamate | |
v.(指业务等)合并,混合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
452 encumbrance | |
n.妨碍物,累赘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
453 ingratitude | |
n.忘恩负义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
454 emoluments | |
n.报酬,薪水( emolument的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
455 inauguration | |
n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
456 unnatural | |
adj.不自然的;反常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
457 intrusive | |
adj.打搅的;侵扰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
458 autobiography | |
n.自传 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
459 vivaciously | |
adv.快活地;活泼地;愉快地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
460 eloquently | |
adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
461 assailed | |
v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 );困扰;质问;毅然应对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
462 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
463 encompassing | |
v.围绕( encompass的现在分词 );包围;包含;包括 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
464 legendary | |
adj.传奇(中)的,闻名遐迩的;n.传奇(文学) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
465 isle | |
n.小岛,岛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
466 fervent | |
adj.热的,热烈的,热情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
467 attachment | |
n.附属物,附件;依恋;依附 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |