Amid the eulogies1 which followed Bryant’s death in 1878, a dissenting2 note was struck by that short-lived illustrated3 newspaper, the Daily Graphic5. After a disparaging6 estimate of his poetry, it remarked that he, as one of our most celebrated7 literary men, should have made the Evening Post the country’s leading critical authority. “It utterly8 failed to become such an authority. Indeed, it would be hard to say what benefits the existence of the Evening Post has conferred upon literature. We say this in all kindness, and with a full knowledge that there were difficulties in the way of creating a literary journal....”
There was force in this statement of an opportunity missed, though the Graphic exaggerated the Post’s deficiencies, and failed to consider whether they might not be due to lack of public appreciation9 of anything better. The truth is that till 1881 there was no American newspaper whose literary criticism would now be considered of high standards. This is said with due respect to George Ripley, who after years at Harvard, at Brook10 farm, and in the ministry11 which made him personally intimate with most of the New England authors, joined the Tribune in 1849 and remained in its harness until his death. He gave himself up to literary criticism with an industry equaled in our journalistic history by that of W. P. Garrison12 alone. He began as a man of wide culture; he was so devoted13 to study and research that in time there were few subjects upon which he could not supply facts and ideas of his own; he was conscientious14, unprejudiced, and accustomed to refer to first principles. Tyndall wrote that he had “the grasp of a philosopher and the good taste of a gentleman.” His reviews were407 easily the best in any American journal, and he had some assistance from Bayard Taylor, John Hay, and other able men. But he was too mild, while he had no thought of sending each new book to a specialist.
Through simple inattention, no regular chair was established for a literary editor by the Post till after the Civil War. In August, 1860, young William Dean Howells applied15 for such a place, bearing a letter from James T. Fields of the Atlantic, who said: “He chooses the Post of all papers in the union, and if you get him for your literary work, etc., you will get a lad who will be worth his weight, etc., etc., etc.” Bigelow’s sagacity for once failed him, and Howells was turned away. Later an application from Park Benjamin was rejected. There was little room for reviews during the war, and little inclination16 on the part of the public to think of pure literature. But when Bryant returned from his last trip to Europe and settled down to translate Homer he finally saw the need for such an editor.
In April, 1867, there reached New York from the South a slight, gaunt man of forty-three, the emaciation17 of whose face was partly concealed18 by his heavy beard, but who was as clearly in bad health as in reduced circumstances. He was received with honor by the city’s growing colony of former Confederates. This was John R. Thompson, who had edited the Southern Literary Messenger for thirteen years previous to the war. He was employed by Albion, a weekly devoted to English interests, and then by its feeble successor, Every Afternoon. Meanwhile, E. C. Stedman had introduced him to Bryant, while Bryant’s old friend, William Gilmore Simms, wrote recommending him to notice and assistance. In May, 1868, he was appointed literary editor of the Evening Post, a position which he held five years.
Thompson’s training seemed admirable for the place. He had proved himself one of the ablest conductors of the Southern Literary Messenger, which Poe had edited before him. He gave it not only his personal services without return, but spent his small patrimony19 to keep it408 alive. Frank R. Stockton and Donald G. Mitchell among Northern authors received their first recognition from him, while the small band of Southern literary men regarded the magazine as their section’s chief exponent20. When in 1859, at John P. Kennedy’s suggestion, he sought the librarianship of the Peabody Institute in Baltimore, Longfellow and Edward Everett were among those who wrote recommending him. During the war, while for a time Virginia’s Assistant Secretary of State and later editor of the Richmond Record, he was a kind of laureate of the Confederacy, his spirited verses following many military events of importance. “Ashby,” “The Burial of Latane,” and “Lee to the Rear” are known by every Southern schoolboy, while “Music in Camp” is in every anthology of historical verse. In 1864 he escaped to England on a blockade runner to carry on publicity21 for the South, and not only worked on the Index, a Confederate organ, but contributed to Blackwood’s, Punch, the Standard, and other periodicals. He was a frequent visitor at Carlyle’s home in Cheyne Row, and is mentioned in Carlyle’s “Reminiscences”, Tennyson entertained him several times at Farringford, and he knew Bulwer, Kingsley, and Thackeray.
He soon became one of the best-liked men on the Post staff. He wrote the extensive review of the first volume of Bryant’s translation of the Iliad in February, 1870, and that of the second that summer; and Bryant came to have him much at his home. There was no more charming conversationalist in New York society. “He had read so variously, observed so minutely, and retained so tenaciously23 the results of his reading and observation,” Bryant wrote later in the Post, “that he was never at a loss for a topic and never failed to invest what he was speaking of with a rare and original interest. His fund of anecdote24 was almost inexhaustible, and his ability to illustrate4 any subject by apt quotation25 no less remarkable26.” John Esten Cooke thought him an unexcelled story-teller, and R. H. Stoddard has agreed.
He was a rebel to be loved, we are told by Watson R.409 Sperry, later managing editor. “A lot of tall, straggling Virginia gentlemen, ex-soldiers, I fancy, all of them, began to visit the office. Mr. Thompson had a big man’s beard, a delicate body, and a sensitive, feminine nature. He was a bit punctilious27, but kindness itself.” His careful attention to dress, verging28 on foppishness, was less out of place in Bryant’s office than it would have been in Greeley’s or Dana’s. J. Ranken Towse speaks of his personal charm, a reflection of his experience in the best Richmond and London circles. “Though not a marvel29 of erudition or critical genius, he was a pleasant, cultivated gentleman, refined in taste and manner, genial30, humorous, and abundantly capable.”
Unfortunately, Thompson added little to the Post’s literary reputation. In large part this was because of his wretched health, for he steadily31 wasted away with consumption, was much out of the office, and maintained his energy only by following his doctor’s orders to take large doses of whisky. Early in 1872 his condition was so bad that when Bryant set out for Cuba, the Bahamas, and Mexico, he took Thompson along to escape the rigor32 of winter. Thompson, moreover, was an essayist and poet rather than a critic. He prepared a book upon his European experiences which was in the bindery of Derby & Jackson when fire destroyed it; and his letters of travel on various vacation tours, with some editorial essays, were his best work for the paper. His most famous poem, the translation of Nadaud’s “Carcassone,” was written in the Evening Post office—“the unfinished manuscript was kicking around on his desk for several days,” says Sperry—but published in Lippincott’s; its popularity rather irritated him.
Even had his health been sound and his critical faculties33 the best, Thompson could not have made the Post a good literary organ in the present-day sense. It did not want critical or analytic34 reviews. An entertaining summary or paraphrase35 would appeal far more to the general reader. Moreover, there was a feeling that American literature was a delicate organism, which needed petting410 and might have its spirit broken by harsh words. Mr. Towse justly says of Thompson: “His condemnation36 was apt to be expressed in terms of modified praise. He confined himself largely to what was explanatory or descriptive, though his articles were written fluently and elegantly, were interesting, and had a news, if no great descriptive value.” Bryant reviewed many of the younger poets with the same benignancy with which Howells used to review young novelists in the Easy Chair. The first important volumes of which Thompson wrote notices were the concluding volumes of Froude’s England, Kinglake’s Crimean War, and Motley’s United Netherlands, Raphael Pumpelly’s travels, Mark Twain’s “Innocents Abroad,” and Miss Alcott’s “Little Women.” The notices consisted of scissors work and tepid37 comment.
During the years just after the war, indeed, the Post’s columns were singularly devoid38 of permanent literary interest. The Cary sisters, Miles O’Reilly, and Helen Hunt Jackson contributed verse, and there were various occasional poems, like E. C. Stedman’s “Crete” (1867) and Holmes’s Harvard dinner poem of 1866. Samuel Osgood, for years a prominent minister at the Unitarian Church of the Messiah (Bryant’s church), and a voluminous writer on historical and religious topics, printed many essays. Charles Lanman contributed his interesting recollections of two famous Washington editors, Gales39 and Seaton, of the National Intelligencer, and there were others of the same small caliber40.
The most noteworthy contributions were those, almost the last of his long career, from Bryant’s own pen. The aged42 poet, after the death of his wife and the conclusion of his translations from Homer, wrote fewer editorials, and many of these at the request of friends, in support of a worthy41 charity or civic43 movement. But he did like to write short essays for the editorial page, often printed in minion44, on topics ranging from macaronic verse to history and politics. Despite what Hazlitt says of the prose style of poets, that of Bryant was always of unmistakable distinction. When he took such a subject as the beauties411 of winter as seen at Roslyn (January, 1873), the result was worthy of permanent preservation45:
A light but continuous rain fell on Saturday and froze on everything it touched, and wetted the snow only enough to change it on the trees from white to the clearest and most brilliant crystal. So overloaded46 were they with their icy diamonds that tall cedars47 bent48 themselves like nodding plumes49, and pines and hemlocks50 bowed down like tents of cloth of silver over the snowy carpet underneath51. The russet leaves of the beeches52 shone out like frozen leaves of gold, and trunks and boughs53 and twigs54 of deciduous55 trees were as if they had been enameled56 with melted glass from their very roots to the most delicate extremities57. On Sunday morning the sun shone out upon such a landscape as this, to light up, but not to melt, the silvery sheen and the diamond sparkle which winter had sprinkled over all outdoors. One who breathed the exhilaration of the air of that day, and looked upon its wonderful beauty, could hardly find it in the heart to regret the destruction that it caused. But all day long the overloaded trees yielded to the weight of ice, and one who listened could hear in every direction, like the discharge of infantry58, the crashing of the falling branches. In some cases whole trees were stripped, leaving only the shattered trunk, a torn and broken shaft59 with all its glory strewn upon the snow.
Early in 1873 it became evident that Thompson’s condition was desperate. The Post in February, upon the advice of his physician, sent him to Colorado, a step which proved a mistake. He became rapidly worse, started back on April 17, reached the city in a dying state, and passed away at Isaac Henderson’s home on April 30. His funeral in New York was attended by Bryant, Stedman, Richard Watson Gilder61, Gen. Pryor, Whitelaw Reid, R. H. Stoddard (whom he made his literary executor, but who did nothing with his manuscripts) and others of prominence62; while in Richmond on the same day a meeting was held in his honor by the pulpit, bar, and press in the House of Delegates. His last incomplete review was of the poems of a Southerner, Henry Timrod. Not until 1920 were his own poems collected in a volume sponsored by his alma mater, the University of Virginia.
412 For some time his place was left unsupplied while Bryant searched for a successor; for the editor had come to the belated conclusion that the literary editorship should be the most important place of its kind in America. While the search was going on, in 1875, the year the Post moved into the fine Bryant Building which Henderson built for it at a cost of $750,000, George Cary Eggleston joined the staff.
Eggleston was a successful young author of thirty-five, though by no means so famous as his elder brother Edward Eggleston, whose “Hoosier Schoolmaster,” appearing in book form in 1872, had sold 20,000 copies within a year. He had crowded into these thirty-five years as much experience as many active men get in a lifetime. Born in Indiana, educated in Virginia, a soldier throughout the war in the Confederate army, later a practicing lawyer in Illinois and Mississippi, he had come to Brooklyn and in 1870 became an editorial writer on Theodore Tilton’s Brooklyn union. Soon afterward63 he and Edward Eggleston took joint64 charge of Hearth65 and Home, and began putting life into that moribund66 publication. It was in this effort that Edward Eggleston seized upon his brother’s experiences as a schoolmaster at Riker’s Ridge67, Indiana, as a basis for his famous novel. The two were on the high road to success when the magazine was purchased, and both took to free lancing. George Cary Eggleston settled down to writing boys’ books and magazine articles in an orchard-framed farmhouse68 in New Jersey69. He had already published, first in the Atlantic and then in book form, one of the most graphic of Southern war volumes, “A Rebel’s Recollections,” which had been warmly received.
Unfortunately, while at work in his cottage he was swindled out of all his savings70 by a scoundrelly publisher, and hurried to New York to seek editorial work again. He felt honored to be associated with Bryant; he liked the uncompromising dignity of the Evening Post. It was, he used to say, the completest realization71 of the ideal of the old Pall72 Mall Gazette—a newspaper conducted413 by gentlemen, for gentlemen. His work consisted of assisting Bryant, Sidney Howard Gay, Parke Godwin, and Watson R. Sperry in writing editorials, and was congenial. Incidentally, he helped Bryant in his search for a literary editor. He wrote Thomas Bailey Aldrich, setting forth73 the dignity of the position, the attractive salary, and the pleasant nature of the work; all of which Aldrich acknowledged, replying: “But, my dear Eggleston, what can the paper offer to compensate74 one for having to live in New York?”
While affairs were in this posture75, Bryant one day entered the Post library and began clambering about on a step-ladder, searching the shelves. Eggleston, from his little den60 opening off the larger room, saw him hunting, and suggested that he might be able to help find the information wanted. “I think not,” answered Bryant in his curt76, cold way, and then added, taking down still another volume: “I’m looking for a line that I ought to know where to find, but do not.” Asking Bryant for the substance of the quotation, Eggleston was fortunately able to recognize it as a half-forgotten passage in Cowley. He seized the office copy of Cowley, turned to the page, and laid it open in Bryant’s hand. The poet seemed surprised, and lost all interest in the quotation. “How,” he demanded, “do you happen to know anything about Cowley?”
Eggleston explained that as a youth upon a Virginia plantation77, seized by an overmastering thirst for literature, he had read the books in the libraries of all the old mansions78 in the county. Bryant settled himself interestedly in a chair of Eggleston’s room. The young man’s half-written editorial for the morrow lay unfinished on the desk, but Bryant never heeded79 it. For two hours he questioned Eggleston as a candidate for the Ph.D. degree in English is now questioned at his oral examination; inquiring as to his preferences, dislikes, and knowledge of books and authors, and making him defend his opinions. Then he abruptly80 said “Good afternoon.”
Just before noon the next day the managing editor414 entered Eggleston’s room with an expression of mingled81 irritation82 and amusement. Mr. Bryant had just been in, he reported. “He walked into my office and said to me, ‘Mr. Sperry, I have appointed Mr. Eggleston literary editor. Good morning, Mr. Sperry,’ and walked out again.”
Eggleston’s literary editorship, which endured until the Post changed hands in 1881, was more energetic and fruitful than that of the half-invalid Thompson, partly because he had more money to spend. He was an ambitious, vigorous young man, who knew most of the chief literary figures of the time—Howells, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Stockton, and others met when he edited Hearth and Home. In this Indian summer of the old Post, before Carl Schurz and E. L. Godkin took it over, there was another outburst of poetry in its pages. It published Bryant’s “Christmas in 1875” and his “Centennial Hymn84, 1876”; Whittier’s poem to the memory of Halleck a year later; and E. C. Stedman’s “Hawthorne.” Charles Follen Adams, author of the “Leedle Yawcob Strauss” poems, contributed repeatedly. It is interesting to find verse written by A. A. Adee while he was secretary of legation in Madrid; by William Roscoe Thayer; by Edgar Fawcett, the satirical novelist; by the late F. W. Gunsaulus, Chicago’s most famous preacher; by Edward Eggleston and Agnes Repplier. There were also interesting prose contributions. E. P. Roe85 wrote upon—gardening! Benton J. Lossing sent some historical articles in his last years; and W. O. Stoddard, who had been Lincoln’s secretary during the Civil War, contributed both prose and verse. Bret Harte for a time had a connection with the Post, which enabled him to appear regularly for his pay, though his writing was most irregular; his work is not identifiable.
The literary correspondence of the journal was greatly strengthened. Regular letters were sent from Boston by George Parsons Lathrop, Hawthorne’s son-in-law, who during part of this period was assistant editor of the Atlantic, and well known for his books. His report415 (Feb. 27, 1878) of Emerson’s long-awaited delivery of his lecture on “The Fortune of the Republic”—the sunlight streaming through a window of Old South upon the speaker’s face, his manuscript placed on the flag draping the pulpit, a distinguished86 audience hanging on his words—was a fine bit of writing. Elie Reclus, the eminent87 French geographer88, wrote upon French literature, as did Edward King, while there were Italian and London correspondents. From various American hands came gossip about rising literary men of the day, like the following vignette of a young lecturer named John Fiske:
His vast learning is appalling89 to the ordinary man.... His mind is so clear that it is said he never copies his manuscript. He writes slowly—the right thought following its predecessor90 with unerring precision, the fit word dropping into its place; and with this enviable faculty91 of composition, of understanding thoroughly92, and putting on paper just as he has in mind what he sees so clearly, he works right on, far into the night, scarcely feeling the need which most writers have of mental rest. He is so deliberate and to be relied on that once seeing the man, and knowing his diligence and habits of investigation93 and method of writing, you cannot entertain a doubt that he will accomplish whatever he sets himself to do....
He is of a very simple and sincere nature; and of Saxon complexion94 and hair.... He has a rosy95 face, auburn beard and hair—the latter in short, crisp curls—and brown eyes as round as marbles, which, seen through the glasses he always wears, seem to have just looked up from some absorbing study and to be scarcely yet ready to take in the common scenes of life. His is not a changeful countenance96, but of the same calm, self-reliant expression on all occasions, as if he took the world philosophically97 and was always in good humor with it. He is solid, inclined to the sluggish98 in build and motion, and is slow of utterance99, speaking in measured phrases with his teeth half shut.
But the standard of literary criticism was very little raised by Eggleston. Some light is thrown upon his aims by his rejoinder to a fellow Virginian, E. S. Nadal, who in the Atlantic in 1877 accused newspaper critics of yielding to pressure from the advertisers, and of refusing to416 treat harshly writers they personally knew. Eggleston indignantly denied both allegations, remarking that he had reviewed “several thousands of good and bad books” without thought of advertising100 or personal friendship. He added that Nadal had mistaken the function of the newspaper literary critic. It could not be so elevated, analytic, and rigid101 as magazine reviewing. The newspaper writer’s chief business was not to point out faults, but “to tell newspaper readers what books are published, and what sort of book each of them is, so that the reader may decide for himself what books to buy. His work is not so much criticism as description. It is in the nature of news and comment upon news, and the newspaper reviewer rightly omits much in the way of adverse102 criticism.” Eggleston’s successor proved how utterly fallacious was this statement.
In accordance with it, we find the great majority of volumes—travels like Burnaby’s “Ride to Khiva,” biographies like Mrs. Charles Kingsley’s “Letters and Memorials” of her husband, histories like Symonds’s “Renaissance in Italy”—merely scissored and summarized. Eggleston plumed103 himself upon being the first to give a thorough account, thought quite uncritical, of the most important books. Thus Elie Reclus in 1877 sent the Post a scoop104 upon Hugo’s new “History of a Crime”; and a few months later it was delighted to give, in a column and a half, the first résumé of Schliemann’s story of his discoveries at Mycen?. Eggleston was alert to obtain advance sheets of new books, and the morning newspapers complained that the publishers made him a favorite. When Tennyson’s “Harold” was issued late in 1876, there was no previous announcement, and a copy was sent all American and British literary editors precisely105 at noon. The Evening Post reviews for that day were already in the forms, and only an hour remained before the first edition went to press. But Eggleston resolved to anticipate the morning papers, enlisted106 Foreman Dithmar of the composing room, hurriedly prepared two columns of quotation and comment, and had them in type417 ready for the front page within his time-limit. This exploit, in which it is hard to share his pride, reminds us of the story of Hugo’s “Legend of the Ages” reaching the Tribune office just before Bayard Taylor left for the night, and of how Taylor within fifteen hours finished an “exhaustive” review, including translations of five poems.
Nevertheless, from time to time a genuinely critical bit of writing emerged in the Post. The reviews of Howells’s “A Foregone Conclusion” in 1875 and of Henry James’s “The American” in 1877, both appreciative107, would do credit to any literary journal to-day. Parke Godwin wrote solid historical criticism. The paper was sufficiently108 discriminating109 to prefer the best of Constance Fenimore Woolson to the second-best of Bret Harte. Its worst misstep, shared by almost every other American journal, was its low estimate of “Tom Sawyer” in 1877. It thought the first half passable—“fairly entitled to rank with Mr. Aldrich’s ‘Story of a Bad Boy’”—but the second half poor, and it issued the grave warning: “Certainly it will be in the last degree unsafe to put the book into the hands of imitative youth.”
The subject of international copyright had been reopened in 1867 by an article in the Atlantic, and the republication of Henry C. Carey’s hostile essays; but a bill failed in Congress in 1868 and another in 1871. Bryant saw that the Evening Post kept up its campaign for a reform. Some publishers, led by Putnam’s and J. R. Osgood & Co., were for a liberal law, but others, like Harper & Brothers, stood opposed; while the type-founders, paper-makers, and binders110 throughout the union were hostile. Carey’s school held that international copyright would produce a centralized monopoly of bookmaking, and included many booksellers of the Middle and Western States who complained that the bulk of English reprints were already monopolized111 by four or five Eastern firms. Carey also thought that the best way of giving an author his due would be simply to compel payment of a royalty112 to him. But the Post in 1877 took the view that the chief obstacle to international418 copyright lay in the conviction of many manufacturers and farmers of the West that the patent system was uneconomic and injurious, and their inclination to regard copyright as a kind of patent.
From Eggleston we learn nearly as much of Bryant in his editorial capacity as from Bigelow and Parke Godwin. Bryant regarded anonymous113 criticism, he told Eggleston, “as a thing quite as despicable, unmanly, and cowardly as an anonymous letter.” Eggleston’s own notices were unsigned, but Bryant had given prominence to the fact that he was literary editor, sending every publisher an announcement, and it was the rule that contributed criticism should bear at least an initial. Once when Eggleston was about to publish an anonymous review by R. H. Stoddard, Bryant’s indignant objections were with difficulty silenced. According to the literary editor, Bryant’s printed index expurgatorius by no means included all the words to which he objected; he tried to rule out “numerous” for “many,” “people” for “persons,” “monthly” for “monthly magazine,” and so on. He was accustomed to refer to Johnson’s dictionary as an authority instead of later works. Eggleston recalls the vigor83 of Bryant’s literary prejudices, one of them apparently114 evinced by his refusal to have the least share in the unveiling of the Poe monument in Baltimore.
Yet he lays emphasis upon Bryant’s unwillingness115 to deal severely116 with fellow poets. The old editor said he had always found it possible to say something good about the writings of the poorest—to praise some line, some epithet117, at least. Once Eggleston in despair showed him a volume of which it was impossible to commend a single word. Bryant admitted that it was idiotic118; he admitted that even the cover was an affront119 to taste; but, he said, looking at it with an expression of total disgust, “You can commend the publishers for putting it on well.” This was one expression of Bryant’s innate120 gentleness. He was seriously distressed121 when some scribbler of verse on one occasion caught up a single commendatory phrase in Eggleston’s unfavorable review, and asked Bryant to419 allow him to use that phrase as an advertisement, with Bryant’s own name attached. Eggleston answered the appeal, and did it forcibly. The poet would change his “day” at the office, or would work in the composing room, to avoid bores, but he never would be impolite to them. Once, indeed, a literary hack22 pestered122 him all morning in an effort to obtain the material for articles to publish upon Bryant when he died. Bryant came in obviously disturbed, and said to Eggleston in his mild way: “I tried to be patient, but I fear I was rude to him at the last. There seemed to be no other way of getting rid of him.”
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eulogies
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| n.颂词，颂文( eulogy的名词复数 ) | |
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dissenting
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| adj.不同意的 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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emaciation
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| n.消瘦，憔悴，衰弱 | |
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concealed
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patrimony
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exponent
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| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
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publicity
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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tenaciously
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anecdote
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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punctilious
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| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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rigor
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| n.严酷，严格，严厉 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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analytic
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| adj.分析的，用分析方法的 | |
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paraphrase
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| vt.将…释义，改写；n.释义，意义 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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caliber
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| n.能力；水准 | |
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41
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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42
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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43
civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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44
minion
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| n.宠仆；宠爱之人 | |
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45
preservation
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| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
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46
overloaded
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| a.超载的，超负荷的 | |
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47
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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50
hemlocks
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| 由毒芹提取的毒药( hemlock的名词复数 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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enameled
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| 涂瓷釉于，给…上瓷漆，给…上彩饰( enamel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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gilder
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| 镀金工人 | |
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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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moribund
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| adj.即将结束的，垂死的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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78
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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81
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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82
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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roe
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| n.鱼卵；獐鹿 | |
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86
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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87
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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88
geographer
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| n.地理学者 | |
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89
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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91
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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93
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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94
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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98
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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99
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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100
advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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101
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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102
adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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103
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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104
scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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105
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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106
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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107
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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108
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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109
discriminating
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| a.有辨别能力的 | |
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110
binders
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| n.（司机行话）刹车器；（书籍的）装订机( binder的名词复数 )；（购买不动产时包括预付订金在内的）保证书；割捆机；活页封面 | |
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111
monopolized
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| v.垄断( monopolize的过去式和过去分词 )；独占；专卖；专营 | |
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112
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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113
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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114
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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115
unwillingness
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| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
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116
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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117
epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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118
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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119
affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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120
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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121
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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122
pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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