It would be a gloomy secret night. After early nightfall the yellow lamps would light up, here and there, the squalid quarter of the brothels. He would follow a devious6 course up and down the streets, circling always nearer and nearer in a tremor7 of fear and joy, until his feet led him suddenly round a dark corner. The whores would be just coming out of their houses making ready for the night, yawning lazily after their sleep and settling the hairpins8 in their clusters of hair. He would pass by them calmly waiting for a sudden movement of his own will or a sudden call to his sin-loving soul from their soft perfumed flesh. Yet as he prowled in quest of that call, his senses, stultified11 only by his desire, would note keenly all that wounded or shamed them; his eyes, a ring of porter froth on a clothless table or a photograph of two soldiers standing12 to attention or a gaudy13 playbill; his ears, the drawling jargon14 of greeting:
—Hello, Bertie, any good in your mind?
—Is that you, pigeon?
—Number ten. Fresh Nelly is waiting on you.
—Good night, husband! Coming in to have a short time?
The equation on the page of his scribbler began to spread out a widening tail, eyed and starred like a peacock’s; and, when the eyes and stars of its indices had been eliminated, began slowly to fold itself together again. The indices appearing and disappearing were eyes opening and closing; the eyes opening and closing were stars being born and being quenched15. The vast cycle of starry16 life bore his weary mind outward to its verge17 and inward to its centre, a distant music accompanying him outward and inward. What music? The music came nearer and he recalled the words, the words of Shelley’s fragment upon the moon wandering companionless, pale for weariness. The stars began to crumble19 and a cloud of fine stardust fell through space.
The dull light fell more faintly upon the page whereon another equation began to unfold itself slowly and to spread abroad its widening tail. It was his own soul going forth20 to experience, unfolding itself sin by sin, spreading abroad the balefire of its burning stars and folding back upon itself, fading slowly, quenching21 its own lights and fires. They were quenched: and the cold darkness filled chaos22.
A cold lucid23 indifference24 reigned25 in his soul. At his first violent sin he had felt a wave of vitality26 pass out of him and had feared to find his body or his soul maimed by the excess. Instead the vital wave had carried him on its bosom27 out of himself and back again when it receded28: and no part of body or soul had been maimed but a dark peace had been established between them. The chaos in which his ardour extinguished itself was a cold indifferent knowledge of himself. He had sinned mortally not once but many times and he knew that, while he stood in danger of eternal damnation for the first sin alone, by every succeeding sin he multiplied his guilt29 and his punishment. His days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul. At most, by an alms given to a beggar whose blessing30 he fled from, he might hope wearily to win for himself some measure of actual grace. Devotion had gone by the board. What did it avail to pray when he knew that his soul lusted31 after its own destruction? A certain pride, a certain awe32, withheld33 him from offering to God even one prayer at night though he knew it was in God’s power to take away his life while he slept and hurl34 his soul hellward ere he could beg for mercy. His pride in his own sin, his loveless awe of God, told him that his offence was too grievous to be atoned35 for in whole or in part by a false homage36 to the Allseeing and Allknowing.
—Well now, Ennis, I declare you have a head and so has my stick! Do you mean to say that you are not able to tell me what a surd is?
The blundering answer stirred the embers of his contempt of his fellows. Towards others he felt neither shame nor fear. On Sunday mornings as he passed the church door he glanced coldly at the worshippers who stood bareheaded, four deep, outside the church, morally present at the mass which they could neither see nor hear. Their dull piety37 and the sickly smell of the cheap hairoil with which they had anointed their heads repelled38 him from the altar they prayed at. He stooped to the evil of hypocrisy39 with others, sceptical of their innocence40 which he could cajole so easily.
On the wall of his bedroom hung an illuminated41 scroll42, the certificate of his prefecture in the college of the sodality of the Blessed Virgin43 Mary. On Saturday mornings when the sodality met in the chapel44 to recite the little office his place was a cushioned kneeling-desk at the right of the altar from which he led his wing of boys through the responses. The falsehood of his position did not pain him. If at moments he felt an impulse to rise from his post of honour and, confessing before them all his unworthiness, to leave the chapel, a glance at their faces restrained him. The imagery of the psalms45 of prophecy soothed46 his barren pride. The glories of Mary held his soul captive: spikenard and myrrh and frankincense, symbolising her royal lineage, her emblems48, the late-flowering plant and late-blossoming tree, symbolising the agelong gradual growth of her cultus among men. When it fell to him to read the lesson towards the close of the office he read it in a veiled voice, lulling51 his conscience to its music.
Quasi cedrus exaltata sum in Libanon et quasi cupressus in monte Sion. Quasi palma exaltata sum in Gades et quasi plantatio rosae in Jericho. Quasi uliva speciosa in campis et quasi platanus exaltata sum juxta aquam in plateis. Sicut cinnamomum et balsamum aromatizans odorem dedi et quasi myrrha electa dedi suavitatem odoris.
His sin, which had covered him from the sight of God, had led him nearer to the refuge of sinners. Her eyes seemed to regard him with mild pity; her holiness, a strange light glowing faintly upon her frail52 flesh, did not humiliate53 the sinner who approached her. If ever he was impelled54 to cast sin from him and to repent55 the impulse that moved him was the wish to be her knight56. If ever his soul, re-entering her dwelling57 shyly after the frenzy58 of his body’s lust9 had spent itself, was turned towards her whose emblem49 is the morning star, “bright and musical, telling of heaven and infusing peace,” it was when her names were murmured softly by lips whereon there still lingered foul60 and shameful61 words, the savour itself of a lewd62 kiss.
That was strange. He tried to think how it could be but the dusk, deepening in the schoolroom, covered over his thoughts. The bell rang. The master marked the sums and cuts to be done for the next lesson and went out. Heron, beside Stephen, began to hum tunelessly.
My excellent friend Bombados.
Ennis, who had gone to the yard, came back, saying:
—The boy from the house is coming up for the rector.
A tall boy behind Stephen rubbed his hands and said:
—That’s game ball. We can scut the whole hour. He won’t be in till after half two. Then you can ask him questions on the catechism, Dedalus.
Stephen, leaning back and drawing idly on his scribbler, listened to the talk about him which Heron checked from time to time by saying:
—Shut up, will you. Don’t make such a bally racket!
It was strange too that he found an arid63 pleasure in following up to the end the rigid64 lines of the doctrines65 of the church and penetrating66 into obscure silences only to hear and feel the more deeply his own condemnation67. The sentence of saint James which says that he who offends against one commandment becomes guilty of all had seemed to him first a swollen68 phrase until he had begun to grope in the darkness of his own state. From the evil seed of lust all other deadly sins had sprung forth: pride in himself and contempt of others, covetousness70 in using money for the purchase of unlawful pleasures, envy of those whose vices72 he could not reach to and calumnious73 murmuring against the pious74, gluttonous75 enjoyment76 of food, the dull glowering77 anger amid which he brooded upon his longing78, the swamp of spiritual and bodily sloth79 in which his whole being had sunk.
As he sat in his bench gazing calmly at the rector’s shrewd harsh face his mind wound itself in and out of the curious questions proposed to it. If a man had stolen a pound in his youth and had used that pound to amass80 a huge fortune how much was he obliged to give back, the pound he had stolen only or the pound together with the compound interest accruing81 upon it or all his huge fortune? If a layman82 in giving baptism pour the water before saying the words is the child baptised? Is baptism with a mineral water valid83? How comes it that while the first beatitude promises the kingdom of heaven to the poor of heart, the second beatitude promises also to the meek84 that they shall possess the land? Why was the sacrament of the eucharist instituted under the two species of bread and wine if Jesus Christ be present body and blood, soul and divinity, in the bread alone and in the wine alone? Does a tiny particle of the consecrated85 bread contain all the body and blood of Jesus Christ or a part only of the body and blood? If the wine change into vinegar and the host crumble into corruption87 after they have been consecrated, is Jesus Christ still present under their species as God and as man?
—Here he is! Here he is!
A boy from his post at the window had seen the rector come from the house. All the catechisms were opened and all heads bent88 upon them silently. The rector entered and took his seat on the dais. A gentle kick from the tall boy in the bench behind urged Stephen to ask a difficult question.
The rector did not ask for a catechism to hear the lesson from. He clasped his hands on the desk and said:
—The retreat will begin on Wednesday afternoon in honour of saint Francis Xavier whose feast day is Saturday. The retreat will go on from Wednesday to Friday. On Friday confession89 will be heard all the afternoon after beads90. If any boys have special confessors perhaps it will be better for them not to change. Mass will be on Saturday morning at nine o’clock and general communion for the whole college. Saturday will be a free day. But Saturday and Sunday being free days some boys might be inclined to think that Monday is a free day also. Beware of making that mistake. I think you, Lawless, are likely to make that mistake.
—I sir? Why, sir?
A little wave of quiet mirth broke forth over the class of boys from the rector’s grim smile. Stephen’s heart began slowly to fold and fade with fear like a withering91 flower.
The rector went on gravely:
—You are all familiar with the story of the life of saint Francis Xavier, I suppose, the patron of your college. He came of an old and illustrious Spanish family and you remember that he was one of the first followers92 of saint Ignatius. They met in Paris where Francis Xavier was professor of philosophy at the university. This young and brilliant nobleman and man of letters entered heart and soul into the ideas of our glorious founder93 and you know that he, at his own desire, was sent by saint Ignatius to preach to the Indians. He is called, as you know, the apostle of the Indies. He went from country to country in the east, from Africa to India, from India to Japan, baptising the people. He is said to have baptised as many as ten thousand idolaters in one month. It is said that his right arm had grown powerless from having been raised so often over the heads of those whom he baptised. He wished then to go to China to win still more souls for God but he died of fever on the island of Sancian. A great saint, saint Francis Xavier! A great soldier of God!
The rector paused and then, shaking his clasped hands before him, went on:
—He had the faith in him that moves mountains. Ten thousand souls won for God in a single month! That is a true conqueror94, true to the motto of our order: ad majorem Dei gloriam! A saint who has great power in heaven, remember: power to intercede95 for us in our grief; power to obtain whatever we pray for if it be for the good of our souls; power above all to obtain for us the grace to repent if we be in sin. A great saint, saint Francis Xavier! A great fisher of souls!
He ceased to shake his clasped hands and, resting them against his forehead, looked right and left of them keenly at his listeners out of his dark stern eyes.
In the silence their dark fire kindled96 the dusk into a tawny97 glow. Stephen’s heart had withered98 up like a flower of the desert that feels the simoom coming from afar.
—Remember only thy last things and thou shalt not sin for ever—words taken, my dear little brothers in Christ, from the book of Ecclesiastes, seventh chapter, fortieth verse. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Stephen sat in the front bench of the chapel. Father Arnall sat at a table to the left of the altar. He wore about his shoulders a heavy cloak; his pale face was drawn99 and his voice broken with rheum. The figure of his old master, so strangely rearisen, brought back to Stephen’s mind his life at Clongowes: the wide playgrounds, swarming100 with boys, the square ditch, the little cemetery101 off the main avenue of limes where he had dreamed of being buried, the firelight on the wall of the infirmary where he lay sick, the sorrowful face of Brother Michael. His soul, as these memories came back to him, became again a child’s soul.
—We are assembled here today, my dear little brothers in Christ, for one brief moment far away from the busy bustle103 of the outer world to celebrate and to honour one of the greatest of saints, the apostle of the Indies, the patron saint also of your college, saint Francis Xavier. Year after year for much longer than any of you, my dear little boys, can remember or than I can remember the boys of this college have met in this very chapel to make their annual retreat before the feast day of their patron saint. Time has gone on and brought with it its changes. Even in the last few years what changes can most of you not remember? Many of the boys who sat in those front benches a few years ago are perhaps now in distant lands, in the burning tropics or immersed in professional duties or in seminaries or voyaging over the vast expanse of the deep or, it may be, already called by the great God to another life and to the rendering104 up of their stewardship105. And still as the years roll by, bringing with them changes for good and bad, the memory of the great saint is honoured by the boys of this college who make every year their annual retreat on the days preceding the feast day set apart by our Holy Mother the Church to transmit to all the ages the name and fame of one of the greatest sons of catholic Spain.
—Now what is the meaning of this word retreat and why is it allowed on all hands to be a most salutary practice for all who desire to lead before God and in the eyes of men a truly christian106 life? A retreat, my dear boys, signifies a withdrawal107 for a while from the cares of our life, the cares of this workaday world, in order to examine the state of our conscience, to reflect on the mysteries of holy religion and to understand better why we are here in this world. During these few days I intend to put before you some thoughts concerning the four last things. They are, as you know from your catechism, death, judgement, hell and heaven. We shall try to understand them fully108 during these few days so that we may derive109 from the understanding of them a lasting110 benefit to our souls. And remember, my dear boys, that we have been sent into this world for one thing and for one thing alone: to do God’s holy will and to save our immortal111 souls. All else is worthless. One thing alone is needful, the salvation112 of one’s soul. What doth it profit a man to gain the whole world if he suffer the loss of his immortal soul? Ah, my dear boys, believe me there is nothing in this wretched world that can make up for such a loss.
—I will ask you, therefore, my dear boys, to put away from your minds during these few days all worldly thoughts, whether of study or pleasure or ambition, and to give all your attention to the state of your souls. I need hardly remind you that during the days of the retreat all boys are expected to preserve a quiet and pious demeanour and to shun113 all loud unseemly pleasure. The elder boys, of course, will see that this custom is not infringed114 and I look especially to the prefects and officers of the sodality of Our Blessed Lady and of the sodality of the holy angels to set a good example to their fellow-students.
—Let us try, therefore, to make this retreat in honour of saint Francis with our whole heart and our whole mind. God’s blessing will then be upon all your year’s studies. But, above and beyond all, let this retreat be one to which you can look back in after years when, maybe, you are far from this college and among very different surroundings, to which you can look back with joy and thankfulness and give thanks to God for having granted you this occasion of laying the first foundation of a pious honourable116 zealous117 christian life. And if, as may so happen, there be at this moment in these benches any poor soul who has had the unutterable misfortune to lose God’s holy grace and to fall into grievous sin, I fervently118 trust and pray that this retreat may be the turning point in the life of that soul. I pray to God through the merits of His zealous servant Francis Xavier, that such a soul may be led to sincere repentance119 and that the holy communion on saint Francis’s day of this year may be a lasting covenant120 between God and that soul. For just and unjust, for saint and sinner alike, may this retreat be a memorable121 one.
—Help me, my dear little brothers in Christ. Help me by your pious attention, by your own devotion, by your outward demeanour. Banish122 from your minds all worldly thoughts and think only of the last things, death, judgement, hell and heaven. He who remembers these things, says Ecclesiastes, shall not sin for ever. He who remembers the last things will act and think with them always before his eyes. He will live a good life and die a good death, believing and knowing that, if he has sacrificed much in this earthly life, it will be given to him a hundredfold and a thousandfold more in the life to come, in the kingdom without end—a blessing, my dear boys, which I wish you from my heart, one and all, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen!
As he walked home with silent companions a thick fog seemed to compass his mind. He waited in stupor123 of mind till it should lift and reveal what it had hidden. He ate his dinner with surly appetite and when the meal was over and the grease-strewn plates lay abandoned on the table, he rose and went to the window, clearing the thick scum from his mouth with his tongue and licking it from his lips. So he had sunk to the state of a beast that licks his chaps after meat. This was the end; and a faint glimmer124 of fear began to pierce the fog of his mind. He pressed his face against the pane125 of the window and gazed out into the darkening street. Forms passed this way and that through the dull light. And that was life. The letters of the name of Dublin lay heavily upon his mind, pushing one another surlily hither and thither126 with slow boorish127 insistence128. His soul was fattening129 and congealing130 into a gross grease, plunging131 ever deeper in its dull fear into a sombre threatening dusk, while the body that was his stood, listless and dishonoured132, gazing out of darkened eyes, helpless, perturbed134 and human for a bovine135 god to stare upon.
The next day brought death and judgement, stirring his soul slowly from its listless despair. The faint glimmer of fear became a terror of spirit as the hoarse136 voice of the preacher blew death into his soul. He suffered its agony. He felt the deathchill touch the extremities137 and creep onward138 towards the heart, the film of death veiling the eyes, the bright centres of the brain extinguished one by one like lamps, the last sweat oozing139 upon the skin, the powerlessness of the dying limbs, the speech thickening and wandering and failing, the heart throbbing140 faintly and more faintly, all but vanquished141, the breath, the poor breath, the poor helpless human spirit, sobbing142 and sighing, gurgling and rattling143 in the throat. No help! No help! He—he himself—his body to which he had yielded was dying. Into the grave with it. Nail it down into a wooden box, the corpse144. Carry it out of the house on the shoulders of hirelings. Thrust it out of men’s sight into a long hole in the ground, into the grave, to rot, to feed the mass of its creeping worms and to be devoured145 by scuttling146 plump-bellied rats.
And while the friends were still standing in tears by the bedside the soul of the sinner was judged. At the last moment of consciousness the whole earthly life passed before the vision of the soul and, ere it had time to reflect, the body had died and the soul stood terrified before the judgement seat. God, who had long been merciful, would then be just. He had long been patient, pleading with the sinful soul, giving it time to repent, sparing it yet awhile. But that time had gone. Time was to sin and to enjoy, time was to scoff147 at God and at the warnings of His holy church, time was to defy His majesty148, to disobey His commands, to hoodwink one’s fellow men, to commit sin after sin and to hide one’s corruption from the sight of men. But that time was over. Now it was God’s turn: and He was not to be hoodwinked or deceived. Every sin would then come forth from its lurking-place, the most rebellious149 against the divine will and the most degrading to our poor corrupt86 nature, the tiniest imperfection and the most heinous150 atrocity151. What did it avail then to have been a great emperor, a great general, a marvellous inventor, the most learned of the learned? All were as one before the judgement seat of God. He would reward the good and punish the wicked. One single instant was enough for the trial of a man’s soul. One single instant after the body’s death, the soul had been weighed in the balance. The particular judgement was over and the soul had passed to the abode152 of bliss153 or to the prison of purgatory154 or had been hurled155 howling into hell.
Nor was that all. God’s justice had still to be vindicated156 before men: after the particular there still remained the general judgement. The last day had come. Doomsday was at hand. The stars of heaven were falling upon the earth like the figs158 cast by the figtree which the wind has shaken. The sun, the great luminary159 of the universe, had become as sackcloth of hair. The moon was bloodred. The firmament160 was as a scroll rolled away. The archangel Michael, the prince of the heavenly host, appeared glorious and terrible against the sky. With one foot on the sea and one foot on the land he blew from the archangelical trumpet161 the brazen162 death of time. The three blasts of the angel filled all the universe. Time is, time was, but time shall be no more. At the last blast the souls of universal humanity throng163 towards the valley of Jehosaphat, rich and poor, gentle and simple, wise and foolish, good and wicked. The soul of every human being that has ever existed, the souls of all those who shall yet be born, all the sons and daughters of Adam, all are assembled on that supreme164 day. And lo, the supreme judge is coming! No longer the lowly Lamb of God, no longer the meek Jesus of Nazareth, no longer the Man of Sorrows, no longer the Good Shepherd, He is seen now coming upon the clouds, in great power and majesty, attended by nine choirs165 of angels, angels and archangels, principalities, powers and virtues166, thrones and dominations, cherubim and seraphim168, God Omnipotent169, God Everlasting170. He speaks: and His voice is heard even at the farthest limits of space, even in the bottomless abyss. Supreme Judge, from His sentence there will be and can be no appeal. He calls the just to His side, bidding them enter into the kingdom, the eternity171 of bliss prepared for them. The unjust He casts from Him, crying in His offended majesty: Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels. O, what agony then for the miserable172 sinners! Friend is torn apart from friend, children are torn from their parents, husbands from their wives. The poor sinner holds out his arms to those who were dear to him in this earthly world, to those whose simple piety perhaps he made a mock of, to those who counselled him and tried to lead him on the right path, to a kind brother, to a loving sister, to the mother and father who loved him so dearly. But it is too late: the just turn away from the wretched damned souls which now appear before the eyes of all in their hideous174 and evil character. O you hypocrites, O you whited sepulchres, O you who present a smooth smiling face to the world while your soul within is a foul swamp of sin, how will it fare with you in that terrible day?
And this day will come, shall come, must come; the day of death and the day of judgement. It is appointed unto man to die and after death the judgement. Death is certain. The time and manner are uncertain, whether from long disease or from some unexpected accident: the Son of God cometh at an hour when you little expect Him. Be therefore ready every moment, seeing that you may die at any moment. Death is the end of us all. Death and judgement, brought into the world by the sin of our first parents, are the dark portals that close our earthly existence, the portals that open into the unknown and the unseen, portals through which every soul must pass, alone, unaided save by its good works, without friend or brother or parent or master to help it, alone and trembling. Let that thought be ever before our minds and then we cannot sin. Death, a cause of terror to the sinner, is a blessed moment for him who has walked in the right path, fulfilling the duties of his station in life, attending to his morning and evening prayers, approaching the holy sacrament frequently and performing good and merciful works. For the pious and believing catholic, for the just man, death is no cause of terror. Was it not Addison, the great English writer, who, when on his deathbed, sent for the wicked young earl of Warwick to let him see how a christian can meet his end? He it is and he alone, the pious and believing christian, who can say in his heart:
O grave, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?
Every word of it was for him. Against his sin, foul and secret, the whole wrath175 of God was aimed. The preacher’s knife had probed deeply into his disclosed conscience and he felt now that his soul was festering in sin. Yes, the preacher was right. God’s turn had come. Like a beast in its lair176 his soul had lain down in its own filth177 but the blasts of the angel’s trumpet had driven him forth from the darkness of sin into the light. The words of doom157 cried by the angel shattered in an instant his presumptuous178 peace. The wind of the last day blew through his mind; his sins, the jeweleyed harlots of his imagination, fled before the hurricane, squeaking179 like mice in their terror and huddled180 under a mane of hair.
As he crossed the square, walking homeward, the light laughter of a girl reached his burning ear. The frail gay sound smote181 his heart more strongly than a trumpet-blast, and, not daring to lift his eyes, he turned aside and gazed, as he walked, into the shadow of the tangled182 shrubs183. Shame rose from his smitten184 heart and flooded his whole being. The image of Emma appeared before him, and under her eyes the flood of shame rushed forth anew from his heart. If she knew to what his mind had subjected her or how his brutelike lust had torn and trampled186 upon her innocence! Was that boyish love? Was that chivalry187? Was that poetry? The sordid188 details of his orgies stank189 under his very nostrils190. The sootcoated packet of pictures which he had hidden in the flue of the fireplace and in the presence of whose shameless or bashful wantonness he lay for hours sinning in thought and deed; his monstrous191 dreams, peopled by apelike creatures and by harlots with gleaming jewel eyes; the foul long letters he had written in the joy of guilty confession and carried secretly for days and days only to throw them under cover of night among the grass in the corner of a field or beneath some hingeless door in some niche192 in the hedges where a girl might come upon them as she walked by and read them secretly. Mad! Mad! Was it possible he had done these things? A cold sweat broke out upon his forehead as the foul memories condensed within his brain.
When the agony of shame had passed from him he tried to raise his soul from its abject194 powerlessness. God and the Blessed Virgin were too far from him: God was too great and stern and the Blessed Virgin too pure and holy. But he imagined that he stood near Emma in a wide land and, humbly195 and in tears, bent and kissed the elbow of her sleeve.
In the wide land under a tender lucid evening sky, a cloud drifting westward196 amid a pale green sea of heaven, they stood together, children that had erred197. Their error had offended deeply God’s majesty though it was the error of two children; but it had not offended her whose beauty “is not like earthly beauty, dangerous to look upon, but like the morning star which is its emblem, bright and musical.” The eyes were not offended which she turned upon him nor reproachful. She placed their hands together, hand in hand, and said, speaking to their hearts:
—Take hands, Stephen and Emma. It is a beautiful evening now in heaven. You have erred but you are always my children. It is one heart that loves another heart. Take hands together, my dear children, and you will be happy together and your hearts will love each other.
The chapel was flooded by the dull scarlet198 light that filtered through the lowered blinds; and through the fissure199 between the last blind and the sash a shaft200 of wan18 light entered like a spear and touched the embossed brasses201 of the candlesticks upon the altar that gleamed like the battle-worn mail armour202 of angels.
Rain was falling on the chapel, on the garden, on the college. It would rain for ever, noiselessly. The water would rise inch by inch, covering the grass and shrubs, covering the trees and houses, covering the monuments and the mountain tops. All life would be choked off, noiselessly: birds, men, elephants, pigs, children: noiselessly floating corpses203 amid the litter of the wreckage204 of the world. Forty days and forty nights the rain would fall till the waters covered the face of the earth.
It might be. Why not?
—Hell has enlarged its soul and opened its mouth without any limits—words taken, my dear little brothers in Christ Jesus, from the book of Isaias, fifth chapter, fourteenth verse. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
The preacher took a chainless watch from a pocket within his soutane and, having considered its dial for a moment in silence, placed it silently before him on the table.
He began to speak in a quiet tone.
—Adam and Eve, my dear boys, were, as you know, our first parents, and you will remember that they were created by God in order that the seats in heaven left vacant by the fall of Lucifer and his rebellious angels might be filled again. Lucifer, we are told, was a son of the morning, a radiant and mighty205 angel; yet he fell: he fell and there fell with him a third part of the host of heaven: he fell and was hurled with his rebellious angels into hell. What his sin was we cannot say. Theologians consider that it was the sin of pride, the sinful thought conceived in an instant: non serviam: I will not serve. That instant was his ruin.
He offended the majesty of God by the sinful thought of one instant and God cast him out of heaven into hell for ever.
—Adam and Eve were then created by God and placed in Eden, in the plain of Damascus, that lovely garden resplendent with sunlight and colour, teeming206 with luxuriant vegetation. The fruitful earth gave them her bounty207: beasts and birds were their willing servants: they knew not the ills our flesh is heir to, disease and poverty and death: all that a great and generous God could do for them was done. But there was one condition imposed on them by God: obedience208 to His word. They were not to eat of the fruit of the forbidden tree.
—Alas, my dear little boys, they too fell. The devil, once a shining angel, a son of the morning, now a foul fiend came in the shape of a serpent, the subtlest of all the beasts of the field. He envied them. He, the fallen great one, could not bear to think that man, a being of clay, should possess the inheritance which he by his sin had forfeited209 for ever. He came to the woman, the weaker vessel210, and poured the poison of his eloquence211 into her ear, promising212 her—O, the blasphemy213 of that promise!—that if she and Adam ate of the forbidden fruit they would become as gods, nay214 as God Himself. Eve yielded to the wiles215 of the arch tempter. She ate the apple and gave it also to Adam who had not the moral courage to resist her. The poison tongue of Satan had done its work. They fell.
—And then the voice of God was heard in that garden, calling His creature man to account: and Michael, prince of the heavenly host, with a sword of flame in his hand, appeared before the guilty pair and drove them forth from Eden into the world, the world of sickness and striving, of cruelty and disappointment, of labour and hardship, to earn their bread in the sweat of their brow. But even then how merciful was God! He took pity on our poor degraded parents and promised that in the fullness of time He would send down from heaven One who would redeem216 them, make them once more children of God and heirs to the kingdom of heaven: and that One, that Redeemer of fallen man, was to be God’s only begotten217 Son, the Second Person of the Most Blessed Trinity, the Eternal Word.
—He came. He was born of a virgin pure, Mary the virgin mother. He was born in a poor cowhouse in Judea and lived as a humble218 carpenter for thirty years until the hour of His mission had come. And then, filled with love for men, He went forth and called to men to hear the new gospel.
—Did they listen? Yes, they listened but would not hear. He was seized and bound like a common criminal, mocked at as a fool, set aside to give place to a public robber, scourged219 with five thousand lashes220, crowned with a crown of thorns, hustled221 through the streets by the jewish rabble222 and the Roman soldiery, stripped of his garments and hanged upon a gibbet and His side was pierced with a lance and from the wounded body of our Lord water and blood issued continually.
—Yet even then, in that hour of supreme agony, Our Merciful Redeemer had pity for mankind. Yet even there, on the hill of Calvary, He founded the holy catholic church against which, it is promised, the gates of hell shall not prevail. He founded it upon the rock of ages and endowed it with His grace, with sacraments and sacrifice, and promised that if men would obey the word of His church they would still enter into eternal life; but if, after all that had been done for them, they still persisted in their wickedness, there remained for them an eternity of torment223: hell.
The preacher’s voice sank. He paused, joined his palms for an instant, parted them. Then he resumed:
—Now let us try for a moment to realise, as far as we can, the nature of that abode of the damned which the justice of an offended God has called into existence for the eternal punishment of sinners. Hell is a strait and dark and foulsmelling prison, an abode of demons224 and lost souls, filled with fire and smoke. The straitness of this prison house is expressly designed by God to punish those who refused to be bound by His laws. In earthly prisons the poor captive has at least some liberty of movement, were it only within the four walls of his cell or in the gloomy yard of his prison. Not so in hell. There, by reason of the great number of the damned, the prisoners are heaped together in their awful prison, the walls of which are said to be four thousand miles thick: and the damned are so utterly226 bound and helpless that, as a blessed saint, saint Anselm, writes in his book on similitudes, they are not even able to remove from the eye a worm that gnaws227 it.
—They lie in exterior228 darkness. For, remember, the fire of hell gives forth no light. As, at the command of God, the fire of the Babylonian furnace lost its heat but not its light so, at the command of God, the fire of hell, while retaining the intensity229 of its heat, burns eternally in darkness. It is a neverending storm of darkness, dark flames and dark smoke of burning brimstone, amid which the bodies are heaped one upon another without even a glimpse of air. Of all the plagues with which the land of the Pharaohs were smitten one plague alone, that of darkness, was called horrible. What name, then, shall we give to the darkness of hell which is to last not for three days alone but for all eternity?
—The horror of this strait and dark prison is increased by its awful stench. All the filth of the world, all the offal and scum of the world, we are told, shall run there as to a vast reeking230 sewer231 when the terrible conflagration232 of the last day has purged233 the world. The brimstone, too, which burns there in such prodigious234 quantity fills all hell with its intolerable stench; and the bodies of the damned themselves exhale235 such a pestilential odour that, as saint Bonaventure says, one of them alone would suffice to infect the whole world. The very air of this world, that pure element, becomes foul and unbreathable when it has been long enclosed. Consider then what must be the foulness237 of the air of hell. Imagine some foul and putrid238 corpse that has lain rotting and decomposing239 in the grave, a jellylike mass of liquid corruption. Imagine such a corpse a prey240 to flames, devoured by the fire of burning brimstone and giving off dense193 choking fumes241 of nauseous loathsome242 decomposition243. And then imagine this sickening stench, multiplied a millionfold and a millionfold again from the millions upon millions of fetid carcasses massed together in the reeking darkness, a huge and rotting human fungus244. Imagine all this, and you will have some idea of the horror of the stench of hell.
—But this stench is not, horrible though it is, the greatest physical torment to which the damned are subjected. The torment of fire is the greatest torment to which the tyrant245 has ever subjected his fellow creatures. Place your finger for a moment in the flame of a candle and you will feel the pain of fire. But our earthly fire was created by God for the benefit of man, to maintain in him the spark of life and to help him in the useful arts whereas the fire of hell is of another quality and was created by God to torture and punish the unrepentant sinner. Our earthly fire also consumes more or less rapidly according as the object which it attacks is more or less combustible246 so that human ingenuity247 has even succeeded in inventing chemical preparations to check or frustrate248 its action. But the sulphurous brimstone which burns in hell is a substance which is specially115 designed to burn for ever and for ever with unspeakable fury. Moreover, our earthly fire destroys at the same time as it burns so that the more intense it is the shorter is its duration; but the fire of hell has this property that it preserves that which it burns and though it rages with incredible intensity it rages for ever.
—Our earthly fire again, no matter how fierce or widespread it may be, is always of a limited extent: but the lake of fire in hell is boundless249, shoreless and bottomless. It is on record that the devil himself, when asked the question by a certain soldier, was obliged to confess that if a whole mountain were thrown into the burning ocean of hell it would be burned up in an instant like a piece of wax. And this terrible fire will not afflict250 the bodies of the damned only from without, but each lost soul will be a hell unto itself, the boundless fire raging in its very vitals. O, how terrible is the lot of those wretched beings! The blood seethes251 and boils in the veins252, the brains are boiling in the skull253, the heart in the breast glowing and bursting, the bowels254 a redhot mass of burning pulp255, the tender eyes flaming like molten balls.
—And yet what I have said as to the strength and quality and boundlessness256 of this fire is as nothing when compared to its intensity, an intensity which it has as being the instrument chosen by divine design for the punishment of soul and body alike. It is a fire which proceeds directly from the ire of God, working not of its own activity but as an instrument of divine vengeance258. As the waters of baptism cleanse259 the soul with the body, so do the fires of punishment torture the spirit with the flesh. Every sense of the flesh is tortured and every faculty260 of the soul therewith: the eyes with impenetrable utter darkness, the nose with noisome261 odours, the ears with yells and howls and execrations, the taste with foul matter, leprous corruption, nameless suffocating263 filth, the touch with redhot goads264 and spikes265, with cruel tongues of flame. And through the several torments266 of the senses the immortal soul is tortured eternally in its very essence amid the leagues upon leagues of glowing fires kindled in the abyss by the offended majesty of the Omnipotent God and fanned into everlasting and ever-increasing fury by the breath of the anger of the Godhead.
—Consider finally that the torment of this infernal prison is increased by the company of the damned themselves. Evil company on earth is so noxious267 that the plants, as if by instinct, withdraw from the company of whatsoever268 is deadly or hurtful to them. In hell all laws are overturned—there is no thought of family or country, of ties, of relationships. The damned howl and scream at one another, their torture and rage intensified269 by the presence of beings tortured and raging like themselves. All sense of humanity is forgotten. The yells of the suffering sinners fill the remotest corners of the vast abyss. The mouths of the damned are full of blasphemies270 against God and of hatred271 for their fellow sufferers and of curses against those souls which were their accomplices272 in sin. In olden times it was the custom to punish the parricide273, the man who had raised his murderous hand against his father, by casting him into the depths of the sea in a sack in which were placed a cock, a monkey, and a serpent. The intention of those law-givers who framed such a law, which seems cruel in our times, was to punish the criminal by the company of hurtful and hateful beasts. But what is the fury of those dumb beasts compared with the fury of execration262 which bursts from the parched274 lips and aching throats of the damned in hell when they behold275 in their companions in misery276 those who aided and abetted277 them in sin, those whose words sowed the first seeds of evil thinking and evil living in their minds, those whose immodest suggestions led them on to sin, those whose eyes tempted278 and allured279 them from the path of virtue167. They turn upon those accomplices and upbraid280 them and curse them. But they are helpless and hopeless: it is too late now for repentance.
—Last of all consider the frightful281 torment to those damned souls, tempters and tempted alike, of the company of the devils. These devils will afflict the damned in two ways, by their presence and by their reproaches. We can have no idea of how horrible these devils are. Saint Catherine of Siena once saw a devil and she has written that, rather than look again for one single instant on such a frightful monster, she would prefer to walk until the end of her life along a track of red coals. These devils, who were once beautiful angels, have become as hideous and ugly as they once were beautiful. They mock and jeer282 at the lost souls whom they dragged down to ruin. It is they, the foul demons, who are made in hell the voices of conscience. Why did you sin? Why did you lend an ear to the temptings of friends? Why did you turn aside from your pious practices and good works? Why did you not shun the occasions of sin? Why did you not leave that evil companion? Why did you not give up that lewd habit, that impure283 habit? Why did you not listen to the counsels of your confessor? Why did you not, even after you had fallen the first or the second or the third or the fourth or the hundredth time, repent of your evil ways and turn to God who only waited for your repentance to absolve284 you of your sins? Now the time for repentance has gone by. Time is, time was, but time shall be no more! Time was to sin in secrecy285, to indulge in that sloth and pride, to covet69 the unlawful, to yield to the promptings of your lower nature, to live like the beasts of the field, nay worse than the beasts of the field, for they, at least, are but brutes286 and have no reason to guide them: time was, but time shall be no more. God spoke287 to you by so many voices, but you would not hear. You would not crush out that pride and anger in your heart, you would not restore those ill-gotten goods, you would not obey the precepts288 of your holy church nor attend to your religious duties, you would not abandon those wicked companions, you would not avoid those dangerous temptations. Such is the language of those fiendish tormentors, words of taunting289 and of reproach, of hatred and of disgust. Of disgust, yes! For even they, the very devils, when they sinned, sinned by such a sin as alone was compatible with such angelical natures, a rebellion of the intellect: and they, even they, the foul devils must turn away, revolted and disgusted, from the contemplation of those unspeakable sins by which degraded man outrages290 and defiles291 the temple of the Holy Ghost, defiles and pollutes himself.
—O, my dear little brothers in Christ, may it never be our lot to hear that language! May it never be our lot, I say! In the last day of terrible reckoning I pray fervently to God that not a single soul of those who are in this chapel today may be found among those miserable beings whom the Great Judge shall command to depart for ever from His sight, that not one of us may ever hear ringing in his ears the awful sentence of rejection292: Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels!
He came down the aisle293 of the chapel, his legs shaking and the scalp of his head trembling as though it had been touched by ghostly fingers. He passed up the staircase and into the corridor along the walls of which the overcoats and waterproofs294 hung like gibbeted malefactors, headless and dripping and shapeless. And at every step he feared that he had already died, that his soul had been wrenched295 forth of the sheath of his body, that he was plunging headlong through space.
He could not grip the floor with his feet and sat heavily at his desk, opening one of his books at random296 and poring over it. Every word for him. It was true. God was almighty297. God could call him now, call him as he sat at his desk, before he had time to be conscious of the summons. God had called him. Yes? What? Yes? His flesh shrank together as it felt the approach of the ravenous298 tongues of flames, dried up as it felt about it the swirl299 of stifling300 air. He had died. Yes. He was judged. A wave of fire swept through his body: the first. Again a wave. His brain began to glow. Another. His brain was simmering and bubbling within the cracking tenement301 of the skull. Flames burst forth from his skull like a corolla, shrieking302 like voices:
—Hell! Hell! Hell! Hell! Hell!
Voices spoke near him:
—On hell.
—I suppose he rubbed it into you well.
—You bet he did. He put us all into a blue funk.
—That’s what you fellows want: and plenty of it to make you work.
He leaned back weakly in his desk. He had not died. God had spared him still. He was still in the familiar world of the school. Mr Tate and Vincent Heron stood at the window, talking, jesting, gazing out at the bleak303 rain, moving their heads.
—I wish it would clear up. I had arranged to go for a spin on the bike with some fellows out by Malahide. But the roads must be kneedeep.
—It might clear up, sir.
The voices that he knew so well, the common words, the quiet of the classroom when the voices paused and the silence was filled by the sound of softly browsing304 cattle as the other boys munched305 their lunches tranquilly306, lulled307 his aching soul.
There was still time. O Mary, refuge of sinners, intercede for him! O Virgin Undefiled, save him from the gulf308 of death!
The English lesson began with the hearing of the history. Royal persons, favourites, intriguers, bishops309, passed like mute phantoms310 behind their veil of names. All had died: all had been judged. What did it profit a man to gain the whole world if he lost his soul? At last he had understood: and human life lay around him, a plain of peace whereon antlike men laboured in brotherhood311, their dead sleeping under quiet mounds312. The elbow of his companion touched him and his heart was touched: and when he spoke to answer a question of his master he heard his own voice full of the quietude of humility313 and contrition314.
His soul sank back deeper into depths of contrite315 peace, no longer able to suffer the pain of dread316, and sending forth, as he sank, a faint prayer. Ah yes, he would still be spared; he would repent in his heart and be forgiven; and then those above, those in heaven, would see what he would do to make up for the past: a whole life, every hour of life. Only wait.
—All, God! All, all!
A messenger came to the door to say that confessions317 were being heard in the chapel. Four boys left the room; and he heard others passing down the corridor. A tremulous chill blew round his heart, no stronger than a little wind, and yet, listening and suffering silently, he seemed to have laid an ear against the muscle of his own heart, feeling it close and quail318, listening to the flutter of its ventricles.
No escape. He had to confess, to speak out in words what he had done and thought, sin after sin. How? How?
—Father, I...
The thought slid like a cold shining rapier into his tender flesh: confession. But not there in the chapel of the college. He would confess all, every sin of deed and thought, sincerely; but not there among his school companions. Far away from there in some dark place he would murmur59 out his own shame; and he besought319 God humbly not to be offended with him if he did not dare to confess in the college chapel and in utter abjection320 of spirit he craved321 forgiveness mutely of the boyish hearts about him.
Time passed.
He sat again in the front bench of the chapel. The daylight without was already failing and, as it fell slowly through the dull red blinds, it seemed that the sun of the last day was going down and that all souls were being gathered for the judgement.
—I am cast away from the sight of Thine eyes: words taken, my dear little brothers in Christ, from the Book of Psalms, thirtieth chapter, twentythird verse. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
The preacher began to speak in a quiet friendly tone. His face was kind and he joined gently the fingers of each hand, forming a frail cage by the union of their tips.
—This morning we endeavoured, in our reflection upon hell, to make what our holy founder calls in his book of spiritual exercises, the composition of place. We endeavoured, that is, to imagine with the senses of the mind, in our imagination, the material character of that awful place and of the physical torments which all who are in hell endure. This evening we shall consider for a few moments the nature of the spiritual torments of hell.
—Sin, remember, is a twofold enormity. It is a base consent to the promptings of our corrupt nature to the lower instincts, to that which is gross and beastlike; and it is also a turning away from the counsel of our higher nature, from all that is pure and holy, from the Holy God Himself. For this reason mortal sin is punished in hell by two different forms of punishment, physical and spiritual.
Now of all these spiritual pains by far the greatest is the pain of loss, so great, in fact, that in itself it is a torment greater than all the others. Saint Thomas, the greatest doctor of the church, the angelic doctor, as he is called, says that the worst damnation consists in this that the understanding of man is totally deprived of divine light and his affection obstinately322 turned away from the goodness of God. God, remember, is a being infinitely323 good, and therefore the loss of such a being must be a loss infinitely painful. In this life we have not a very clear idea of what such a loss must be, but the damned in hell, for their greater torment, have a full understanding of that which they have lost, and understand that they have lost it through their own sins and have lost it for ever. At the very instant of death the bonds of the flesh are broken asunder324 and the soul at once flies towards God as towards the centre of her existence. Remember, my dear little boys, our souls long to be with God. We come from God, we live by God, we belong to God: we are His, inalienably His. God loves with a divine love every human soul and every human soul lives in that love. How could it be otherwise? Every breath that we draw, every thought of our brain, every instant of life proceeds from God’s inexhaustible goodness. And if it be pain for a mother to be parted from her child, for a man to be exiled from hearth325 and home, for friend to be sundered326 from friend, O think what pain, what anguish327 it must be for the poor soul to be spurned328 from the presence of the supremely329 good and loving Creator Who has called that soul into existence from nothingness and sustained it in life and loved it with an immeasurable love. This, then, to be separated for ever from its greatest good, from God, and to feel the anguish of that separation, knowing full well that it is unchangeable: this is the greatest torment which the created soul is capable of bearing, p?na damni, the pain of loss.
The second pain which will afflict the souls of the damned in hell is the pain of conscience. Just as in dead bodies worms are engendered330 by putrefaction331, so in the souls of the lost there arises a perpetual remorse332 from the putrefaction of sin, the sting of conscience, the worm, as Pope Innocent the Third calls it, of the triple sting. The first sting inflicted333 by this cruel worm will be the memory of past pleasures. O what a dreadful memory will that be! In the lake of alldevouring flame the proud king will remember the pomps of his court, the wise but wicked man his libraries and instruments of research, the lover of artistic334 pleasures his marbles and pictures and other art treasures, he who delighted in the pleasures of the table his gorgeous feasts, his dishes prepared with such delicacy335, his choice wines; the miser173 will remember his hoard336 of gold, the robber his illgotten wealth, the angry and revengeful and merciless murderers their deeds of blood and violence in which they revelled337, the impure and adulterous the unspeakable and filthy338 pleasures in which they delighted. They will remember all this and loathe339 themselves and their sins. For how miserable will all those pleasures seem to the soul condemned340 to suffer in hellfire for ages and ages. How they will rage and fume10 to think that they have lost the bliss of heaven for the dross341 of earth, for a few pieces of metal, for vain honours, for bodily comforts, for a tingling342 of the nerves. They will repent indeed: and this is the second sting of the worm of conscience, a late and fruitless sorrow for sins committed. Divine justice insists that the understanding of those miserable wretches343 be fixed344 continually on the sins of which they were guilty, and moreover, as saint Augustine points out, God will impart to them His own knowledge of sin, so that sin will appear to them in all its hideous malice345 as it appears to the eyes of God Himself. They will behold their sins in all their foulness and repent but it will be too late and then they will bewail the good occasions which they neglected. This is the last and deepest and most cruel sting of the worm of conscience. The conscience will say: You had time and opportunity to repent and would not. You were brought up religiously by your parents. You had the sacraments and grace and indulgences of the church to aid you. You had the minister of God to preach to you, to call you back when you had strayed, to forgive you your sins, no matter how many, how abominable346, if only you had confessed and repented347. No. You would not. You flouted348 the ministers of holy religion, you turned your back on the confessional, you wallowed deeper and deeper in the mire349 of sin. God appealed to you, threatened you, entreated350 you to return to Him. O, what shame, what misery! The Ruler of the universe entreated you, a creature of clay, to love Him Who made you and to keep His law. No. You would not. And now, though you were to flood all hell with your tears if you could still weep, all that sea of repentance would not gain for you what a single tear of true repentance shed during your mortal life would have gained for you. You implore351 now a moment of earthly life wherein to repent: in vain. That time is gone: gone for ever.
—Such is the threefold sting of conscience, the viper352 which gnaws the very heart’s core of the wretches in hell, so that filled with hellish fury they curse themselves for their folly353 and curse the evil companions who have brought them to such ruin and curse the devils who tempted them in life and now mock them in eternity and even revile354 and curse the Supreme Being Whose goodness and patience they scorned and slighted but Whose justice and power they cannot evade356.
—The next spiritual pain to which the damned are subjected is the pain of extension. Man, in this earthly life, though he be capable of many evils, is not capable of them all at once, inasmuch as one evil corrects and counteracts357 another just as one poison frequently corrects another. In hell, on the contrary, one torment, instead of counteracting358 another, lends it still greater force: and, moreover, as the internal faculties359 are more perfect than the external senses, so are they more capable of suffering. Just as every sense is afflicted360 with a fitting torment, so is every spiritual faculty; the fancy with horrible images, the sensitive faculty with alternate longing and rage, the mind and understanding with an interior darkness more terrible even than the exterior darkness which reigns361 in that dreadful prison. The malice, impotent though it be, which possesses these demon225 souls is an evil of boundless extension, of limitless duration, a frightful state of wickedness which we can scarcely realise unless we bear in mind the enormity of sin and the hatred God bears to it.
—Opposed to this pain of extension and yet coexistent with it we have the pain of intensity. Hell is the centre of evils and, as you know, things are more intense at their centres than at their remotest points. There are no contraries or admixtures of any kind to temper or soften362 in the least the pains of hell. Nay, things which are good in themselves become evil in hell. Company, elsewhere a source of comfort to the afflicted, will be there a continual torment: knowledge, so much longed for as the chief good of the intellect, will there be hated worse than ignorance: light, so much coveted363 by all creatures from the lord of creation down to the humblest plant in the forest, will be loathed364 intensely. In this life our sorrows are either not very long or not very great because nature either overcomes them by habits or puts an end to them by sinking under their weight. But in hell the torments cannot be overcome by habit, for while they are of terrible intensity they are at the same time of continual variety, each pain, so to speak, taking fire from another and re-endowing that which has enkindled it with a still fiercer flame. Nor can nature escape from these intense and various tortures by succumbing365 to them for the soul is sustained and maintained in evil so that its suffering may be the greater. Boundless extension of torment, incredible intensity of suffering, unceasing variety of torture—this is what the divine majesty, so outraged366 by sinners, demands; this is what the holiness of heaven, slighted and set aside for the lustful367 and low pleasures of the corrupt flesh, requires; this is what the blood of the innocent Lamb of God, shed for the redemption of sinners, trampled upon by the vilest368 of the vile355, insists upon.
—Last and crowning torture of all the tortures of that awful place is the eternity of hell. Eternity! O, dread and dire257 word. Eternity! What mind of man can understand it? And remember, it is an eternity of pain. Even though the pains of hell were not so terrible as they are, yet they would become infinite, as they are destined369 to last for ever. But while they are everlasting they are at the same time, as you know, intolerably intense, unbearably370 extensive. To bear even the sting of an insect for all eternity would be a dreadful torment. What must it be, then, to bear the manifold tortures of hell for ever? For ever! For all eternity! Not for a year or for an age but for ever. Try to imagine the awful meaning of this. You have often seen the sand on the seashore. How fine are its tiny grains! And how many of those tiny little grains go to make up the small handful which a child grasps in its play. Now imagine a mountain of that sand, a million miles high, reaching from the earth to the farthest heavens, and a million miles broad, extending to remotest space, and a million miles in thickness; and imagine such an enormous mass of countless371 particles of sand multiplied as often as there are leaves in the forest, drops of water in the mighty ocean, feathers on birds, scales on fish, hairs on animals, atoms in the vast expanse of the air: and imagine that at the end of every million years a little bird came to that mountain and carried away in its beak372 a tiny grain of that sand. How many millions upon millions of centuries would pass before that bird had carried away even a square foot of that mountain, how many eons upon eons of ages before it had carried away all? Yet at the end of that immense stretch of time not even one instant of eternity could be said to have ended. At the end of all those billions and trillions of years eternity would have scarcely begun. And if that mountain rose again after it had been all carried away, and if the bird came again and carried it all away again grain by grain, and if it so rose and sank as many times as there are stars in the sky, atoms in the air, drops of water in the sea, leaves on the trees, feathers upon birds, scales upon fish, hairs upon animals, at the end of all those innumerable risings and sinkings of that immeasurably vast mountain not one single instant of eternity could be said to have ended; even then, at the end of such a period, after that eon of time the mere373 thought of which makes our very brain reel dizzily, eternity would scarcely have begun.
—A holy saint (one of our own fathers I believe it was) was once vouchsafed374 a vision of hell. It seemed to him that he stood in the midst of a great hall, dark and silent save for the ticking of a great clock. The ticking went on unceasingly; and it seemed to this saint that the sound of the ticking was the ceaseless repetition of the words: ever, never; ever, never. Ever to be in hell, never to be in heaven; ever to be shut off from the presence of God, never to enjoy the beatific375 vision; ever to be eaten with flames, gnawed376 by vermin, goaded377 with burning spikes, never to be free from those pains; ever to have the conscience upbraid one, the memory enrage378, the mind filled with darkness and despair, never to escape; ever to curse and revile the foul demons who gloat fiendishly over the misery of their dupes, never to behold the shining raiment of the blessed spirits; ever to cry out of the abyss of fire to God for an instant, a single instant, of respite379 from such awful agony, never to receive, even for an instant, God’s pardon; ever to suffer, never to enjoy; ever to be damned, never to be saved; ever, never; ever, never. O, what a dreadful punishment! An eternity of endless agony, of endless bodily and spiritual torment, without one ray of hope, without one moment of cessation, of agony limitless in intensity, of torment infinitely varied380, of torture that sustains eternally that which it eternally devours381, of anguish that everlastingly382 preys383 upon the spirit while it racks the flesh, an eternity, every instant of which is itself an eternity of woe384. Such is the terrible punishment decreed for those who die in mortal sin by an almighty and a just God.
—Yes, a just God! Men, reasoning always as men, are astonished that God should mete102 out an everlasting and infinite punishment in the fires of hell for a single grievous sin. They reason thus because, blinded by the gross illusion of the flesh and the darkness of human understanding, they are unable to comprehend the hideous malice of mortal sin. They reason thus because they are unable to comprehend that even venial385 sin is of such a foul and hideous nature that even if the omnipotent Creator could end all the evil and misery in the world, the wars, the diseases, the robberies, the crimes, the deaths, the murders, on condition that he allowed a single venial sin to pass unpunished, a single venial sin, a lie, an angry look, a moment of wilful386 sloth, He, the great omnipotent God could not do so because sin, be it in thought or deed, is a transgression387 of His law and God would not be God if He did not punish the transgressor388.
—A sin, an instant of rebellious pride of the intellect, made Lucifer and a third part of the cohort of angels fall from their glory. A sin, an instant of folly and weakness, drove Adam and Eve out of Eden and brought death and suffering into the world. To retrieve389 the consequences of that sin the Only Begotten Son of God came down to earth, lived and suffered and died a most painful death, hanging for three hours on the cross.
—O, my dear little brethren in Christ Jesus, will we then offend that good Redeemer and provoke His anger? Will we trample185 again upon that torn and mangled390 corpse? Will we spit upon that face so full of sorrow and love? Will we too, like the cruel jews and the brutal391 soldiers, mock that gentle and compassionate392 Saviour393 Who trod alone for our sake the awful winepress of sorrow? Every word of sin is a wound in His tender side. Every sinful act is a thorn piercing His head. Every impure thought, deliberately394 yielded to, is a keen lance transfixing that sacred and loving heart. No, no. It is impossible for any human being to do that which offends so deeply the divine Majesty, that which is punished by an eternity of agony, that which crucifies again the Son of God and makes a mockery of Him.
—I pray to God that my poor words may have availed today to confirm in holiness those who are in a state of grace, to strengthen the wavering, to lead back to the state of grace the poor soul that has strayed if any such be among you. I pray to God, and do you pray with me, that we may repent of our sins. I will ask you now, all of you, to repeat after me the act of contrition, kneeling here in this humble chapel in the presence of God. He is there in the tabernacle burning with love for mankind, ready to comfort the afflicted. Be not afraid. No matter how many or how foul the sins if you only repent of them they will be forgiven you. Let no worldly shame hold you back. God is still the merciful Lord who wishes not the eternal death of the sinner but rather that he be converted and live.
—He calls you to Him. You are His. He made you out of nothing. He loved you as only a God can love. His arms are open to receive you even though you have sinned against Him. Come to Him, poor sinner, poor vain and erring395 sinner. Now is the acceptable time. Now is the hour.
The priest rose and, turning towards the altar, knelt upon the step before the tabernacle in the fallen gloom. He waited till all in the chapel had knelt and every least noise was still. Then, raising his head, he repeated the act of contrition, phrase by phrase, with fervour. The boys answered him phrase by phrase. Stephen, his tongue cleaving396 to his palate, bowed his head, praying with his heart.
—O my God!—
—O my God!—
—I am heartily sorry—
—for having offended Thee—
—for having offended Thee—
—and I detest my sins—
—above every other evil—
—above every other evil—
—because they displease Thee, my God—
—Who art so deserving—
—Who art so deserving—
—of all my love—
—of all my love—
—and I firmly purpose—
—and I firmly purpose—
—by Thy holy grace—
—by Thy holy grace—
—never more to offend Thee—
—never more to offend Thee—
—and to amend my life—
He went up to his room after dinner in order to be alone with his soul, and at every step his soul seemed to sigh; at every step his soul mounted with his feet, sighing in the ascent401, through a region of viscid gloom.
He halted on the landing before the door and then, grasping the porcelain402 knob, opened the door quickly. He waited in fear, his soul pining within him, praying silently that death might not touch his brow as he passed over the threshold, that the fiends that inhabit darkness might not be given power over him. He waited still at the threshold as at the entrance to some dark cave. Faces were there; eyes: they waited and watched.
—We knew perfectly403 well of course that though it was bound to come to the light he would find considerable difficulty in endeavouring to try to induce himself to try to endeavour to ascertain404 the spiritual plenipotentiary and so we knew of course perfectly well—
Murmuring faces waited and watched; murmurous405 voices filled the dark shell of the cave. He feared intensely in spirit and in flesh but, raising his head bravely, he strode into the room firmly. A doorway406, a room, the same room, same window. He told himself calmly that those words had absolutely no sense which had seemed to rise murmurously from the dark. He told himself that it was simply his room with the door open.
He closed the door and, walking swiftly to the bed, knelt beside it and covered his face with his hands. His hands were cold and damp and his limbs ached with chill. Bodily unrest and chill and weariness beset407 him, routing his thoughts. Why was he kneeling there like a child saying his evening prayers? To be alone with his soul, to examine his conscience, to meet his sins face to face, to recall their times and manners and circumstances, to weep over them. He could not weep. He could not summon them to his memory. He felt only an ache of soul and body, his whole being, memory, will, understanding, flesh, benumbed and weary.
That was the work of devils, to scatter408 his thoughts and overcloud his conscience, assailing409 him at the gates of the cowardly and sincorrupted flesh: and, praying God timidly to forgive him his weakness, he crawled up on to the bed and, wrapping the blankets closely about him, covered his face again with his hands. He had sinned. He had sinned so deeply against heaven and before God that he was not worthy410 to be called God’s child.
Could it be that he, Stephen Dedalus, had done those things? His conscience sighed in answer. Yes, he had done them, secretly, filthily411, time after time, and, hardened in sinful impenitence412, he had dared to wear the mask of holiness before the tabernacle itself while his soul within was a living mass of corruption. How came it that God had not struck him dead? The leprous company of his sins closed about him, breathing upon him, bending over him from all sides. He strove to forget them in an act of prayer, huddling413 his limbs closer together and binding414 down his eyelids415: but the senses of his soul would not be bound and, though his eyes were shut fast, he saw the places where he had sinned and, though his ears were tightly covered, he heard. He desired with all his will not to hear or see. He desired till his frame shook under the strain of his desire and until the senses of his soul closed. They closed for an instant and then opened. He saw.
A field of stiff weeds and thistles and tufted nettle-bunches. Thick among the tufts of rank stiff growth lay battered416 canisters and clots417 and coils of solid excrement418. A faint marshlight struggling upwards419 from all the ordure through the bristling420 greygreen weeds. An evil smell, faint and foul as the light, curled upwards sluggishly421 out of the canisters and from the stale crusted dung.
Creatures were in the field; one, three, six: creatures were moving in the field, hither and thither. Goatish creatures with human faces, hornybrowed, lightly bearded and grey as indiarubber. The malice of evil glittered in their hard eyes, as they moved hither and thither, trailing their long tails behind them. A rictus of cruel malignity423 lit up greyly their old bony faces. One was clasping about his ribs424 a torn flannel425 waistcoat, another complained monotonously426 as his beard stuck in the tufted weeds. Soft language issued from their spittleless lips as they swished in slow circles round and round the field, winding427 hither and thither through the weeds, dragging their long tails amid the rattling canisters. They moved in slow circles, circling closer and closer to enclose, to enclose, soft language issuing from their lips, their long swishing tails besmeared with stale shite, thrusting upwards their terrific faces...
Help!
He flung the blankets from him madly to free his face and neck. That was his hell. God had allowed him to see the hell reserved for his sins: stinking428, bestial429, malignant430, a hell of lecherous431 goatish fiends. For him! For him!
He sprang from the bed, the reeking odour pouring down his throat, clogging432 and revolting his entrails. Air! The air of heaven! He stumbled towards the window, groaning433 and almost fainting with sickness. At the washstand a convulsion seized him within; and, clasping his cold forehead wildly, he vomited434 profusely435 in agony.
When the fit had spent itself he walked weakly to the window and, lifting the sash, sat in a corner of the embrasure and leaned his elbow upon the sill. The rain had drawn off; and amid the moving vapours from point to point of light the city was spinning about herself a soft cocoon436 of yellowish haze437. Heaven was still and faintly luminous438 and the air sweet to breathe, as in a thicket439 drenched440 with showers; and amid peace and shimmering441 lights and quiet fragrance442 he made a covenant with his heart.
He prayed:
—He once had meant to come on earth in heavenly glory but we sinned: and then He could not safely visit us but with a shrouded443 majesty and a bedimmed radiance for He was God. So He came Himself in weakness not in power and He sent thee, a creature in His stead, with a creature’s comeliness444 and lustre445 suited to our state. And now thy very face and form, dear mother, speak to us of the Eternal; not like earthly beauty, dangerous to look upon, but like the morning star which is thy emblem, bright and musical, breathing purity, telling of heaven and infusing peace. O harbringer of day! O light of the pilgrim! Lead us still as thou hast led. In the dark night, across the bleak wilderness446 guide us on to our Lord Jesus, guide us home.
His eyes were dimmed with tears and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.
When evening had fallen he left the house, and the first touch of the damp dark air and the noise of the door as it closed behind him made ache again his conscience, lulled by prayer and tears. Confess! Confess! It was not enough to lull50 the conscience with a tear and a prayer. He had to kneel before the minister of the Holy Ghost and tell over his hidden sins truly and repentantly. Before he heard again the footboard of the housedoor trail over the threshold as it opened to let him in, before he saw again the table in the kitchen set for supper he would have knelt and confessed. It was quite simple.
The ache of conscience ceased and he walked onward swiftly through the dark streets. There were so many flagstones on the footpath447 of that street and so many streets in that city and so many cities in the world. Yet eternity had no end. He was in mortal sin. Even once was a mortal sin. It could happen in an instant. But how so quickly? By seeing or by thinking of seeing. The eyes see the thing, without having wished first to see. Then in an instant it happens. But does that part of the body understand or what? The serpent, the most subtle beast of the field. It must understand when it desires in one instant and then prolongs its own desire instant after instant, sinfully. It feels and understands and desires. What a horrible thing! Who made it to be like that, a bestial part of the body able to understand bestially448 and desire bestially? Was that then he or an inhuman449 thing moved by a lower soul? His soul sickened at the thought of a torpid450 snaky life feeding itself out of the tender marrow451 of his life and fattening upon the slime of lust. O why was that so? O why?
He cowered452 in the shadow of the thought, abasing453 himself in the awe of God Who had made all things and all men. Madness. Who could think such a thought? And, cowering454 in darkness and abject, he prayed mutely to his guardian455 angel to drive away with his sword the demon that was whispering to his brain.
The whisper ceased and he knew then clearly that his own soul had sinned in thought and word and deed wilfully456 through his own body. Confess! He had to confess every sin. How could he utter in words to the priest what he had done? Must, must. Or how could he explain without dying of shame? Or how could he have done such things without shame? A madman! Confess! O he would indeed to be free and sinless again! Perhaps the priest would know. O dear God!
He walked on and on through ill-lit streets, fearing to stand still for a moment lest it might seem that he held back from what awaited him, fearing to arrive at that towards which he still turned with longing. How beautiful must be a soul in the state of grace when God looked upon it with love!
Frowsy girls sat along the curbstones before their baskets. Their dank hair hung trailed over their brows. They were not beautiful to see as they crouched457 in the mire. But their souls were seen by God; and if their souls were in a state of grace they were radiant to see: and God loved them, seeing them.
A wasting breath of humiliation458 blew bleakly459 over his soul to think of how he had fallen, to feel that those souls were dearer to God than his. The wind blew over him and passed on to the myriads460 and myriads of other souls on whom God’s favour shone now more and now less, stars now brighter and now dimmer, sustained and failing. And the glimmering461 souls passed away, sustained and failing, merged462 in a moving breath. One soul was lost; a tiny soul: his. It flickered463 once and went out, forgotten, lost. The end: black, cold, void waste.
Consciousness of place came ebbing464 back to him slowly over a vast tract465 of time unlit, unfelt, unlived. The squalid scene composed itself around him; the common accents, the burning gasjets in the shops, odours of fish and spirits and wet sawdust, moving men and women. An old woman was about to cross the street, an oilcan in her hand. He bent down and asked her was there a chapel near.
—A chapel, sir? Yes, sir. Church Street chapel.
—Church?
She shifted the can to her other hand and directed him; and, as she held out her reeking withered right hand under its fringe of shawl, he bent lower towards her, saddened and soothed by her voice.
—Thank you.
—You are quite welcome, sir.
The candles on the high altar had been extinguished but the fragrance of incense47 still floated down the dim nave236. Bearded workmen with pious faces were guiding a canopy466 out through a side door, the sacristan aiding them with quiet gestures and words. A few of the faithful still lingered praying before one of the sidealtars or kneeling in the benches near the confessionals. He approached timidly and knelt at the last bench in the body, thankful for the peace and silence and fragrant467 shadow of the church. The board on which he knelt was narrow and worn and those who knelt near him were humble followers of Jesus. Jesus too had been born in poverty and had worked in the shop of a carpenter, cutting boards and planing them, and had first spoken of the kingdom of God to poor fishermen, teaching all men to be meek and humble of heart.
He bowed his head upon his hands, bidding his heart be meek and humble that he might be like those who knelt beside him and his prayer as acceptable as theirs. He prayed beside them but it was hard. His soul was foul with sin and he dared not ask forgiveness with the simple trust of those whom Jesus, in the mysterious ways of God, had called first to His side, the carpenters, the fishermen, poor and simple people following a lowly trade, handling and shaping the wood of trees, mending their nets with patience.
A tall figure came down the aisle and the penitents468 stirred; and at the last moment, glancing up swiftly, he saw a long grey beard and the brown habit of a capuchin. The priest entered the box and was hidden. Two penitents rose and entered the confessional at either side. The wooden slide was drawn back and the faint murmur of a voice troubled the silence.
His blood began to murmur in his veins, murmuring like a sinful city summoned from its sleep to hear its doom. Little flakes470 of fire fell and powdery ashes fell softly, alighting on the houses of men. They stirred, waking from sleep, troubled by the heated air.
The slide was shot back. The penitent469 emerged from the side of the box. The farther side was drawn. A woman entered quietly and deftly471 where the first penitent had knelt. The faint murmur began again.
He could still leave the chapel. He could stand up, put one foot before the other and walk out softly and then run, run, run swiftly through the dark streets. He could still escape from the shame. Had it been any terrible crime but that one sin! Had it been murder! Little fiery472 flakes fell and touched him at all points, shameful thoughts, shameful words, shameful acts. Shame covered him wholly like fine glowing ashes falling continually. To say it in words! His soul, stifling and helpless, would cease to be.
The slide was shot back. A penitent emerged from the farther side of the box. The near slide was drawn. A penitent entered where the other penitent had come out. A soft whispering noise floated in vaporous cloudlets out of the box. It was the woman: soft whispering cloudlets, soft whispering vapour, whispering and vanishing.
He beat his breast with his fist humbly, secretly under cover of the wooden armrest. He would be at one with others and with God. He would love his neighbour. He would love God who had made and loved him. He would kneel and pray with others and be happy. God would look down on him and on them and would love them all.
It was easy to be good. God’s yoke473 was sweet and light. It was better never to have sinned, to have remained always a child, for God loved little children and suffered them to come to Him. It was a terrible and a sad thing to sin. But God was merciful to poor sinners who were truly sorry. How true that was! That was indeed goodness.
The slide was shot to suddenly. The penitent came out. He was next. He stood up in terror and walked blindly into the box.
At last it had come. He knelt in the silent gloom and raised his eyes to the white crucifix suspended above him. God could see that he was sorry. He would tell all his sins. His confession would be long, long. Everybody in the chapel would know then what a sinner he had been. Let them know. It was true. But God had promised to forgive him if he was sorry. He was sorry. He clasped his hands and raised them towards the white form, praying with his darkened eyes, praying with all his trembling body, swaying his head to and fro like a lost creature, praying with whimpering lips.
—Sorry! Sorry! O sorry!
The slide clicked back and his heart bounded in his breast. The face of an old priest was at the grating, averted474 from him, leaning upon a hand. He made the sign of the cross and prayed of the priest to bless him for he had sinned. Then, bowing his head, he repeated the Confiteor in fright. At the words my most grievous fault he ceased, breathless.
—How long is it since your last confession, my child?
—A long time, father.
—A month, my child?
—Longer, father.
—Three months, my child?
—Longer, father.
—Six months?
—Eight months, father.
He had begun. The priest asked:
—And what do you remember since that time?
He began to confess his sins: masses missed, prayers not said, lies.
—Anything else, my child?
Sins of anger, envy of others, gluttony, vanity, disobedience.
—Anything else, my child?
There was no help. He murmured:
The priest did not turn his head.
—With yourself, my child?
—And... with others.
—With women, my child?
—Yes, father.
—Were they married women, my child?
He did not know. His sins trickled476 from his lips, one by one, trickled in shameful drops from his soul, festering and oozing like a sore, a squalid stream of vice71. The last sins oozed477 forth, sluggish422, filthy. There was no more to tell. He bowed his head, overcome.
The priest was silent. Then he asked:
—How old are you, my child?
—Sixteen, father.
The priest passed his hand several times over his face. Then, resting his forehead against his hand, he leaned towards the grating and, with eyes still averted, spoke slowly. His voice was weary and old.
—You are very young, my child, he said, and let me implore of you to give up that sin. It is a terrible sin. It kills the body and it kills the soul. It is the cause of many crimes and misfortunes. Give it up, my child, for God’s sake. It is dishonourable and unmanly. You cannot know where that wretched habit will lead you or where it will come against you. As long as you commit that sin, my poor child, you will never be worth one farthing to God. Pray to our mother Mary to help you. She will help you, my child. Pray to Our Blessed Lady when that sin comes into your mind. I am sure you will do that, will you not? You repent of all those sins. I am sure you do. And you will promise God now that by His holy grace you will never offend Him any more by that wicked sin. You will make that solemn promise to God, will you not?
—Yes, father.
—Do so, my poor child. The devil has led you astray. Drive him back to hell when he tempts479 you to dishonour133 your body in that way—the foul spirit who hates Our Lord. Promise God now that you will give up that sin, that wretched wretched sin.
Blinded by his tears and by the light of God’s mercifulness he bent his head and heard the grave words of absolution spoken and saw the priest’s hand raised above him in token of forgiveness.
—God bless you, my child. Pray for me.
He knelt to say his penance480, praying in a corner of the dark nave; and his prayers ascended481 to heaven from his purified heart like perfume streaming upwards from a heart of white rose.
The muddy streets were gay. He strode homeward, conscious of an invisible grace pervading482 and making light his limbs. In spite of all he had done it. He had confessed and God had pardoned him. His soul was made fair and holy once more, holy and happy.
It would be beautiful to die if God so willed. It was beautiful to live in grace a life of peace and virtue and forbearance with others.
He sat by the fire in the kitchen, not daring to speak for happiness. Till that moment he had not known how beautiful and peaceful life could be. The green square of paper pinned round the lamp cast down a tender shade. On the dresser was a plate of sausages and white pudding and on the shelf there were eggs. They would be for the breakfast in the morning after the communion in the college chapel. White pudding and eggs and sausages and cups of tea. How simple and beautiful was life after all! And life lay all before him.
In a dream he fell asleep. In a dream he rose and saw that it was morning. In a waking dream he went through the quiet morning towards the college.
The boys were all there, kneeling in their places. He knelt among them, happy and shy. The altar was heaped with fragrant masses of white flowers; and in the morning light the pale flames of the candles among the white flowers were clear and silent as his own soul.
He knelt before the altar with his classmates, holding the altar cloth with them over a living rail of hands. His hands were trembling and his soul trembled as he heard the priest pass with the ciborium from communicant to communicant.
—Corpus Domini nostri.
Could it be? He knelt there sinless and timid; and he would hold upon his tongue the host and God would enter his purified body.
—In vitam eternam. Amen.
Another life! A life of grace and virtue and happiness! It was true. It was not a dream from which he would wake. The past was past.
—Corpus Domini nostri.
The ciborium had come to him.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
belly
|
|
| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
crave
|
|
| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
stew
|
|
| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
turnips
|
|
| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
devious
|
|
| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
tremor
|
|
| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
hairpins
|
|
| n.发夹( hairpin的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
fume
|
|
| n.(usu pl.)(浓烈或难闻的)烟，气，汽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
stultified
|
|
| v.使成为徒劳，使变得无用( stultify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
gaudy
|
|
| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
jargon
|
|
| n.术语，行话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
quenched
|
|
| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
starry
|
|
| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
wan
|
|
| (wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
crumble
|
|
| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
quenching
|
|
| 淬火，熄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
chaos
|
|
| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
lucid
|
|
| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
reigned
|
|
| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
receded
|
|
| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
lusted
|
|
| 贪求（lust的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
withheld
|
|
| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
hurl
|
|
| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
atoned
|
|
| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
repelled
|
|
| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
hypocrisy
|
|
| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
scroll
|
|
| n.卷轴，纸卷；(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
psalms
|
|
| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
incense
|
|
| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
emblems
|
|
| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
emblem
|
|
| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
lull
|
|
| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
lulling
|
|
| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
humiliate
|
|
| v.使羞辱，使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
impelled
|
|
| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
repent
|
|
| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
frenzy
|
|
| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
shameful
|
|
| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
lewd
|
|
| adj.淫荡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
doctrines
|
|
| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
penetrating
|
|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
condemnation
|
|
| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
covet
|
|
| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
covetousness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
vice
|
|
| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
vices
|
|
| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
calumnious
|
|
| adj.毁谤的，中伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
gluttonous
|
|
| adj.贪吃的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
glowering
|
|
| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
sloth
|
|
| n.[动]树懒；懒惰，懒散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
amass
|
|
| vt.积累，积聚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
accruing
|
|
| v.增加( accrue的现在分词 )；（通过自然增长）产生；获得；（使钱款、债务）积累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
layman
|
|
| n.俗人，门外汉，凡人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
valid
|
|
| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
consecrated
|
|
| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
corrupt
|
|
| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
corruption
|
|
| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
beads
|
|
| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
withering
|
|
| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
Founder
|
|
| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
conqueror
|
|
| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
intercede
|
|
| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
kindled
|
|
| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
tawny
|
|
| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
swarming
|
|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
cemetery
|
|
| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
mete
|
|
| v.分配；给予 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
bustle
|
|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
rendering
|
|
| n.表现，描写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
stewardship
|
|
| n. n. 管理工作；管事人的职位及职责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
withdrawal
|
|
| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
derive
|
|
| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
shun
|
|
| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
infringed
|
|
| v.违反（规章等）( infringe的过去式和过去分词 )；侵犯（某人的权利）；侵害（某人的自由、权益等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
zealous
|
|
| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
fervently
|
|
| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
repentance
|
|
| n.懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
covenant
|
|
| n.盟约，契约；v.订盟约 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
banish
|
|
| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
stupor
|
|
| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
glimmer
|
|
| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
pane
|
|
| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
boorish
|
|
| adj.粗野的，乡巴佬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
insistence
|
|
| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
fattening
|
|
| adj.（食物）要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
congealing
|
|
| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的现在分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
plunging
|
|
| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
dishonoured
|
|
| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
dishonour
|
|
| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
perturbed
|
|
| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
bovine
|
|
| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
extremities
|
|
| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
oozing
|
|
| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
vanquished
|
|
| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
devoured
|
|
| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
scuttling
|
|
| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
scoff
|
|
| n.嘲笑，笑柄，愚弄；v.嘲笑，嘲弄，愚弄，狼吞虎咽 | |
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
rebellious
|
|
| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
heinous
|
|
| adj.可憎的，十恶不赦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
atrocity
|
|
| n.残暴，暴行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
purgatory
|
|
| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
hurled
|
|
| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
vindicated
|
|
| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
figs
|
|
| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
luminary
|
|
| n.名人，天体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
firmament
|
|
| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
trumpet
|
|
| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
brazen
|
|
| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
choirs
|
|
| n.教堂的唱诗班( choir的名词复数 )；唱诗队；公开表演的合唱团；（教堂）唱经楼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
seraphim
|
|
| n.六翼天使(seraph的复数)；六翼天使( seraph的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
omnipotent
|
|
| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
everlasting
|
|
| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
eternity
|
|
| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
miser
|
|
| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
lair
|
|
| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
filth
|
|
| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
presumptuous
|
|
| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
squeaking
|
|
| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
smitten
|
|
| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
trample
|
|
| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
trampled
|
|
| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
chivalry
|
|
| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
stank
|
|
| n. (英)坝，堰，池塘 动词stink的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
niche
|
|
| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
abject
|
|
| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
erred
|
|
| 犯错误，做错事( err的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
fissure
|
|
| n.裂缝；裂伤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
brasses
|
|
| n.黄铜( brass的名词复数 )；铜管乐器；钱；黄铜饰品（尤指马挽具上的黄铜圆片） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
armour
|
|
| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
corpses
|
|
| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
wreckage
|
|
| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
teeming
|
|
| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
bounty
|
|
| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
forfeited
|
|
| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
blasphemy
|
|
| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
wiles
|
|
| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
redeem
|
|
| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
begotten
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
scourged
|
|
| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
lashes
|
|
| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
hustled
|
|
| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
rabble
|
|
| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
demons
|
|
| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
demon
|
|
| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
gnaws
|
|
| 咬( gnaw的第三人称单数 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
exterior
|
|
| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
reeking
|
|
| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
sewer
|
|
| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
conflagration
|
|
| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
purged
|
|
| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
prodigious
|
|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
exhale
|
|
| v.呼气，散出，吐出，蒸发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
nave
|
|
| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
foulness
|
|
| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
putrid
|
|
| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
decomposing
|
|
| 腐烂( decompose的现在分词 )； （使）分解； 分解（某物质、光线等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
fumes
|
|
| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
loathsome
|
|
| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
decomposition
|
|
| n. 分解, 腐烂, 崩溃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
fungus
|
|
| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
combustible
|
|
| a. 易燃的,可燃的; n. 易燃物,可燃物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
ingenuity
|
|
| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
frustrate
|
|
| v.使失望；使沮丧；使厌烦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
boundless
|
|
| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
afflict
|
|
| vt.使身体或精神受痛苦，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
seethes
|
|
| （液体）沸腾( seethe的第三人称单数 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
bowels
|
|
| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
pulp
|
|
| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
boundlessness
|
|
| 海阔天空 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
dire
|
|
| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
cleanse
|
|
| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
noisome
|
|
| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
execration
|
|
| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
suffocating
|
|
| a.使人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
goads
|
|
| n.赶牲口的尖棒( goad的名词复数 )v.刺激( goad的第三人称单数 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
spikes
|
|
| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
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： |
|
|
|
|
267
noxious
|
|
| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
whatsoever
|
|
| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
intensified
|
|
| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
270
blasphemies
|
|
| n.对上帝的亵渎，亵渎的言词[行为]( blasphemy的名词复数 )；侮慢的言词（或行为） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
271
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
272
accomplices
|
|
| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
273
parricide
|
|
| n.杀父母；杀亲罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
274
parched
|
|
| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
275
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
276
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
277
abetted
|
|
| v.教唆（犯罪）( abet的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；怂恿；支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
278
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： |
|
|
|
|
279
allured
|
|
| 诱引，吸引( allure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
280
upbraid
|
|
| v.斥责，责骂，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
281
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
282
jeer
|
|
| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
283
impure
|
|
| adj.不纯净的，不洁的；不道德的，下流的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
284
absolve
|
|
| v.赦免，解除（责任等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
285
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
286
brutes
|
|
| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
287
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： |
|
|
|
|
288
precepts
|
|
| n.规诫，戒律，箴言( precept的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
289
taunting
|
|
| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
290
outrages
|
|
| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
291
defiles
|
|
| v.玷污( defile的第三人称单数 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
292
rejection
|
|
| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
293
aisle
|
|
| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
294
waterproofs
|
|
| n.防水衣物，雨衣 usually plural( waterproof的名词复数 )v.使防水，使不透水( waterproof的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
295
wrenched
|
|
| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
296
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
297
almighty
|
|
| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
298
ravenous
|
|
| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
299
swirl
|
|
| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
300
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
301
tenement
|
|
| n.公寓；房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
302
shrieking
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
303
bleak
|
|
| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
304
browsing
|
|
| v.吃草( browse的现在分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
305
munched
|
|
| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
306
tranquilly
|
|
| adv. 宁静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
307
lulled
|
|
| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
308
gulf
|
|
| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
309
bishops
|
|
| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
310
phantoms
|
|
| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
311
brotherhood
|
|
| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
312
mounds
|
|
| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
313
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
314
contrition
|
|
| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
315
contrite
|
|
| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
316
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
317
confessions
|
|
| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
318
quail
|
|
| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
319
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： |
|
|
|
|
320
abjection
|
|
| n. 卑鄙, 落魄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
321
craved
|
|
| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
322
obstinately
|
|
| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
323
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
324
asunder
|
|
| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
325
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
326
sundered
|
|
| v.隔开，分开( sunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
327
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
328
spurned
|
|
| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
329
supremely
|
|
| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
330
engendered
|
|
| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
331
putrefaction
|
|
| n.腐坏，腐败 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
332
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
333
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
334
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
335
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
336
hoard
|
|
| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
337
revelled
|
|
| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
338
filthy
|
|
| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
339
loathe
|
|
| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
340
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： |
|
|
|
|
341
dross
|
|
| n.渣滓；无用之物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
342
tingling
|
|
| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
343
wretches
|
|
| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
344
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
345
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
346
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
347
repented
|
|
| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
348
flouted
|
|
| v.藐视，轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
349
mire
|
|
| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
350
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
351
implore
|
|
| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
352
viper
|
|
| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
353
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
354
revile
|
|
| v.辱骂，谩骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
355
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
356
evade
|
|
| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
357
counteracts
|
|
| 对抗，抵消( counteract的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
358
counteracting
|
|
| 对抗，抵消( counteract的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
359
faculties
|
|
| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
360
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
361
reigns
|
|
| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
362
soften
|
|
| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
363
coveted
|
|
| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
364
loathed
|
|
| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
365
succumbing
|
|
| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的现在分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
366
outraged
|
|
| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
367
lustful
|
|
| a.贪婪的；渴望的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
368
vilest
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的( vile的最高级 )；可耻的；极坏的；非常讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
369
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
370
unbearably
|
|
| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
371
countless
|
|
| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
372
beak
|
|
| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
373
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
374
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
375
beatific
|
|
| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
376
gnawed
|
|
| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
377
goaded
|
|
| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
378
enrage
|
|
| v.触怒，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
379
respite
|
|
| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
380
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
381
devours
|
|
| 吞没( devour的第三人称单数 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
382
everlastingly
|
|
| 永久地，持久地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
383
preys
|
|
| v.掠食( prey的第三人称单数 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
384
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
385
venial
|
|
| adj.可宽恕的；轻微的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
386
wilful
|
|
| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
387
transgression
|
|
| n.违背；犯规；罪过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
388
transgressor
|
|
| n.违背者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
389
retrieve
|
|
| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
390
mangled
|
|
| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
391
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
392
compassionate
|
|
| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
393
saviour
|
|
| n.拯救者，救星 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
394
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
395
erring
|
|
| 做错事的，错误的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
396
cleaving
|
|
| v.劈开，剁开，割开( cleave的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
397
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
398
detest
|
|
| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
399
displease
|
|
| vt.使不高兴，惹怒；n.不悦，不满，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
400
amend
|
|
| vt.修改，修订，改进；n.[pl.]赔罪，赔偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
401
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
402
porcelain
|
|
| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
403
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
404
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
405
murmurous
|
|
| adj.低声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
406
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
407
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
408
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
409
assailing
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的现在分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
410
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
411
filthily
|
|
| adv.污秽地，丑恶地，不洁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
412
impenitence
|
|
| n.不知悔改，顽固 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
413
huddling
|
|
| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
414
binding
|
|
| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
415
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
416
battered
|
|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
417
clots
|
|
| n.凝块( clot的名词复数 )；血块；蠢人；傻瓜v.凝固( clot的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
418
excrement
|
|
| n.排泄物，粪便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
419
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
420
bristling
|
|
| a.竖立的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
421
sluggishly
|
|
| adv.懒惰地；缓慢地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
422
sluggish
|
|
| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
423
malignity
|
|
| n.极度的恶意，恶毒；（病的）恶性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
424
ribs
|
|
| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
425
flannel
|
|
| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
426
monotonously
|
|
| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
427
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
428
stinking
|
|
| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
429
bestial
|
|
| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
430
malignant
|
|
| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
431
lecherous
|
|
| adj.好色的；淫邪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
432
clogging
|
|
| 堵塞，闭合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
433
groaning
|
|
| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
434
vomited
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
435
profusely
|
|
| ad.abundantly | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
436
cocoon
|
|
| n.茧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
437
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
438
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
439
thicket
|
|
| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
440
drenched
|
|
| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
441
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
442
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
443
shrouded
|
|
| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
444
comeliness
|
|
| n. 清秀, 美丽, 合宜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
445
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
446
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
447
footpath
|
|
| n.小路，人行道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
448
bestially
|
|
| adv.野兽地，残忍地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
449
inhuman
|
|
| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
450
torpid
|
|
| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
451
marrow
|
|
| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
452
cowered
|
|
| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
453
abasing
|
|
| 使谦卑( abase的现在分词 )； 使感到羞耻； 使降低（地位、身份等）； 降下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
454
cowering
|
|
| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
455
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
456
wilfully
|
|
| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
457
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
458
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
459
bleakly
|
|
| 无望地，阴郁地，苍凉地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
460
myriads
|
|
| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
461
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： |
|
|
|
|
462
merged
|
|
| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
463
flickered
|
|
| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
464
ebbing
|
|
| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
465
tract
|
|
| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
466
canopy
|
|
| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
467
fragrant
|
|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
468
penitents
|
|
| n.后悔者( penitent的名词复数 )；忏悔者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
469
penitent
|
|
| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
470
flakes
|
|
| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
471
deftly
|
|
| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
472
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
473
yoke
|
|
| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
474
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
475
impurity
|
|
| n.不洁，不纯，杂质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
476
trickled
|
|
| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
477
oozed
|
|
| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
478
parching
|
|
| adj.烘烤似的，焦干似的v.（使）焦干， （使）干透( parch的现在分词 )；使（某人）极口渴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
479
tempts
|
|
| v.引诱或怂恿（某人）干不正当的事( tempt的第三人称单数 )；使想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
480
penance
|
|
| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
481
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
482
pervading
|
|
| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |