In a condition of society which may be characterised as that of a very imperfect civilisation—when communication is difficult, and in some cases impossible; when the influence of the capital upon the provinces is very partial and uncertain; when knowledge is for the most part confined to the learned professions—we must regard the rich upper classes precisely3 in the same relation to popular literature as we now regard the poor lower classes. We must view them as essentially4 uncritical and unrefined, swallowing the coarsest intellectual food with greediness, looking chiefly to excitement and amusement in books, and not very willingly elevating themselves to mental improvement as a great duty. When Ben Jonson speaks of the "prerogative6 the vulgar have to lose their judgments8, and like that which is naught"—when he derides9 the taste of "the beast the multitude"—he also takes care to tell us that his description of those who "think rude things greater than polished," not only applied10 to "the sordid11 multitude, but to the neater sort of our gallants: for all are the multitude; only they differ in clothes, not in judgment7 {198} or understanding."[19] About the time when Jonson wrote thus—more calmly than when he denounced "the loathed13 stage, and the more loathsome14 age"—Burton was exhibiting the intellectual condition of the gentry15 in his 'Anatomy16 of Melancholy:'—"I am not ignorant how barbarously and basely for the most part our ruder gentry esteem17 of libraries and books; how they neglect and contemn18 so great a treasure, so inestimable a benefit, as ?sop's cock did the jewel he found in the dunghill; and all through error, ignorance, and want of education." Again, he says, "If they read a book at any time, 'tis an English chronicle, St. Huon of Bordeaux, Amadis de Gaul, &c., a play-book, or some pamphlet of news; and that at such seasons only when they cannot stir abroad." The "pamphlet of news" was a prodigious19 ingredient in the queer cauldron of popular literature for the next half-century. Every one has heard of the thirty thousand tracts20 in the British Museum, forming two thousand volumes, all published between 1640 and 1660. The impression of many of these was probably very small; for Rushworth, to whom they became authorities, tells us that King Charles I. gave ten pounds for the liberty to read one at the owner's house in St. Paul's Churchyard. This was the twenty years' work of Milton's "pens and heads, sitting by their studious lamps, musing21, searching, revolving22 new notions and ideas." Others were, "as fast reading, trying all things." Milton asks, {199} "What could a man require more from a nation so pliant24 and so prone25 to seek after knowledge?" He truly answers: "wise and faithful labourers, to make a knowing people, a nation of prophets, sages26, and worthies28."[20] The "wise and faithful labourers" were scarcely to be found in the civil and ecclesiastical violence of these partisan29 writers. But they were the pioneers of constitutional liberty; and till that fabric30 was built up, literature, properly so called, would offer few things great or enduring. The demand for books in that stormy period was, doubtless, very limited. The belief that the Ειχ?γ Βασιλιχ? was written by Charles I. would naturally account for the sale of fifty editions in one year. But from 1623 to 1664 only two editions of Shakspere were sold; and when the Restoration came, an act of Parliament was passed that only twenty printers should practise their art in the kingdom. The fact, as recorded by Evelyn, that at the fire of London, in 1666, the booksellers who carried on their business in the neighbourhood of St. Paul's lost as many books, in quires, as were worth 200,000l., is rather a proof of a slow demand than of the enormous extent of bookselling. In the vaults31 of Saint Faith's were rotting many a copy of what the world has agreed to call "heavy" books; books in advance of their time; books that no price would have made largely saleable—the books for the few.
The terrible quarter of a century that had preceded {200} the Restoration, and the new tastes which the return of the Stuarts brought to England, would seem to have swept away even the remembrances of the popular literature of Elizabeth and James. Edward Phillips, the nephew of Milton, has a remarkable32 passage with reference to the poets: "As for the antiquated33 and fallen into obscurity from their former credit and reputation, they are for the most part those who have written beyond the verge34 of the present age; for let us look back as far as about thirty or forty years, and we shall find a profound silence of the poets beyond that time, except of some few dramatics, of whose real worth the interest of the now flourishing stage cannot but be sensible."[21] This was written in 1674. What had the people to read who had forgotten Spenser, and Daniel, and Drayton; and Herbert—who knew little of Shakspere, except in the translations of Davenant and Dryden; and who, unquestionably, had small relish35 for the popular prose of another age, such as Bacon's 'Essays'? They had rhyming tragedies; they had obscene comedies; they had their Sedleys and Rochesters. It is not wonderful that the popular taste soon grew corrupted36. Pepys says (1666), "To Deptford by water, reading Othello, Moor38 of Venice, which I ever heretofore esteemed39 a mighty40 good play; but having so lately read The Adventures of Five Hours, it seems a mean thing." Their "light reading" was a marvel—that romance literature {201} which at one time was as popular in its degree as the shilling novel of our own day. We have before us Mr. Samuel Speed's Catalogue of Books, printed for him in 1670. The first is 'Pharamond, the famed Romance, written by the author of those other two eminent41 volumes Cassandra and Cleopatra.' These famed and eminent volumes are large folios, translated from the French of M. de la Calprenede. If Calprenede was the Dumas, Madeleine Scudery was the Eugene Sue of those days. No popularity that these moderns have obtained by their feuilletons could have exceeded the excitement produced here, as well as in France, by the wonderful folios of their predecessors42. 'Artamenes' and 'Clelia,' to say nothing of 'Almahide' and 'The Illustrious Bassa,' were in every mansion43 of the ladies of quality. The matron and her daughters sate44 at their embroidery45 while the companion read aloud, night after night, a page or two of these interminable adventures, in which Greeks and Romans talked the language of the Grand Monarque; and the intrigues46 of the court, and the characters of its personages, were mysteriously shadowed forth47 in what were called "Portraits." What signified that they were stupid? They were as level to the comprehension of their high-born readers as the penny novels of the present day are to the intelligence of the factory-girl. They had a long popularity, and were reprinted again and again, in their eight or ten volumes, when the age of duodecimos had arrived. They had been fashionable, {202} and that was enough. Character they had none, and very little of human passions. They were constructed upon the admirable recipe of Molière in the 'Précieuses Ridicules'—a lover without feeling; a mistress without preference; mutual48 insensibility; sedulous49 attention to forms; a declaration in a garden; the banishment50 of the lover by the coquetting fair; perseverance51; timid confessions52; rivals; persecutions of fathers; jealousies53 conceived under false appearances; laments55; despairs; abductions; and all that. Mammas thought they were wisely instructing their daughters, when they permitted Mademoiselle Scudery to teach them "des règles dont, en bonne galanterie, on ne saurait se dispenser." In vain Molière, and Boileau, and Scarron laughed at the great heroic romances. They held their own till Le Sage27 in France, and Defoe and Fielding in England, spoke56 the language of real life. They show us how long the great and little vulgar will feed upon husks, till some real fruit is offered to them. But it is remarkable how, in the same age, works of real genius and works of intense dulness will run side by side. It may be a question how far 'Don Quixote' drove out the romances of chivalry57. 'Tartufe,' and 'Le Malade Imaginaire' were of the same era as that of the wonderful productions in which Cyrus was talking galanterie to Mandane through a thousand folio pages. When Pepys thought 'Othello' a mean thing compared with 'The Adventures of Five Hours' he also bought {203} "Hudibras, both parts, the book now in greatest fashion for drollery58;" but he tells us his honest mind when he says, "I cannot, I confess, see enough where the wit lies." Voltaire had a different standard of taste when he wrote, "I never met with so much wit in one single book as in this." The politics of 'Hudibras' made it "in greatest fashion;" the wit shot over the heads of the idle, dissipated, slavish, and corrupt37 courtiers who gave it their patronage59, but eventually left its author to starve. Butler became popular in another generation; and so did Milton. The first edition of 'Paradise Lost' sufficed for a circulation of seven years.
The earliest Catalogue of Books published in this country contains a list of "all the books printed in England since the dreadful fire, 1666, to the end of Trinity term, 1680." The statistical60 results of this catalogue of the productions of the press for fourteen years have been ascertained62 by us. The whole number of books printed was 3550; of which 947 were divinity, 420 law, and 153 physic; 397 were school-books, and 253 on subjects of geography and navigation, including maps. About one-half of these books were single sermons and tracts. Deducting63 the reprints, pamphlets, single sermons, and maps, we have estimated that, upon an average, 100 new books were produced in each year.
About the time when this catalogue was published, John Dunton, one of the most eccentric, {204} and perhaps therefore amusing, of the publishing race, went into business with half a shop. He can tell us something of the manufacture of some of these books of the London catalogue. He says, "Printing was now uppermost in my thoughts; and hackney authors began to ply64 me with specimens65 as earnestly, and with as much passion and concern, as the watermen do passengers with oars5 and scullers." He adds, "As for their honesty, 'tis very remarkable. They'll either persuade you to go upon another man's copy, to steal his thought, or to abridge66 his books which should, have got him bread for his lifetime."[22] There were varieties of this class:—"Mr. Bradshaw was the best accomplished67 hackney author I have met with; his genius was quite above the common size, and his style was incomparably fine." Dunton had a suspicion that Bradshaw wrote 'The Turkish Spy,' which might justify68 somewhat of his eulogium. Roger North says that "the demi-booksellers," who deal in "the fresh scum of the press," are such as "crack their brains to find out selling subjects, and keep hirelings in garrets, at hard meat, to write and correct by the great; and so puff69 up an octavo to a sufficient thickness, and there is six shillings current for an hour and a half's reading, and perhaps never to be read or looked upon after." The people get these wares70 cheaper now. The publishers of that day, and long afterwards, were not very nice as to the uniform excellence71 of the books {205} they issued. Dunton informs us that Mr. William Rogers, who was the publisher of Sherlock and Tillotson, was concerned in publishing "some Dying Speeches." They had books for all tastes, and carried their goods to many markets. They were equally at home in Cheapside or at Sturbridge fair; and the great Bernard Lintot exhibited his "rubric posts" in his shop, and kept a booth on the Thames when it was frozen over. Some, according to Dunton, were "pirates and cormorants72;" others, who had "the intimate acquaintance of several excellent pens, could never want copies." Some were good at "projection"—the devisers of "selling subjects;" and the talent of some "lies at collection," which Dunton exemplifies by Mr. Crouch73, who "melted down the best of our English histories into twelvepenny books, which are filled with wonders, rarities, and curiosities." One, who "printed The Flying Post, did often fill it with stolen copies;" whilst Jacob Tonson, who paid Dryden like a safe tradesman as he was, and made him presents of melons and sherry, is very indignant that the great poet charged him fifty guineas for fourteen hundred and forty-six lines, when he expected to have had fifteen hundred and eighteen lines for forty guineas. Peace to their manes! They were all doing something towards the supply of that great want which was beginning to assert itself somewhat extensively in their day. They were, for the most part, rugged74 dealers75 in wares intellectual. They had many modes of turning a {206} penny beyond the profits which they derived76, as publishers, from "the great genius" or "the eminent hand," which each patronised. They had some difficulties in their way as manufacturers; although the more cautious and lucky did make fortunes. The more limited the public, the more uncertain the demand. They were pretty safe with their tracts, and their abridgments, and their new comedies; but when they had to deal with works of learning, which were necessarily costly77, they and their authors—for the authors had often to sustain the charges of printing—encountered serious losses. We shall see how, as the commerce of books extended, new measures were adopted to lessen78, if not to remove, the risk.
produced by printing books that met with no ready sale. Purchas was ruined by his 'Pilgrimes;' Castell by his 'Lexicon83 Heptaglotton;' Ockley by his 'History of the Saracens;' Rushworth by his 'Historical Collections.' Bishop84 Kennett gave away his 'Register and Chronicle,' saying, "The volume, too large, brings me no profit." The remedy was to be found in publishing by subscription. This plan, like most other human things, was subject to abuse; but it was founded upon a true estimate of the peculiar85 risks of publishing. It is manifest that, if a certain number of persons unite in agreement {207} to purchase a book which is about to be printed, the author may be at ease with regard to the issue of the enterprise, and the subscribers ought to receive what they want at a lower cost than when risk enters into price. For more than half a century nearly all the great books were published by subscription; and the highest in literature felt no degradation87 in canvassing themselves with their "subscription receipts." It is easy to perceive, by the subscription prices, when the work was set on foot by an author, or his friends, simply as a more convenient mode of obtaining or bestowing88 money than begging or borrowing; and when there was a real market value given for the commodity offered. The scheme of levying90 contributions upon subscribers was as old as the days of Taylor, the Water Poet. He published his 'Pennilesse Pilgrimage' in this fashion; and it seems that he sometimes gave his books to those who were unwilling91 to return his honorarium92. He consoles himself by a lampoon93 against his false subscribers:—
"They took a book worth twelvepence, and were bound
To give a crown, an angel, or a pound;
A noble, piece, or half-piece, what they list,—
They past their words, or freely set their fist."
Honest John had sixteen hundred and fifty such subscribers; but of these, seven hundred and fifty were "bad debtors94."[23] In the next century, Myles Davies has the same story to tell of the degradation of the literary begging-letter writer. He leaves his {208} books at the great man's door; he writes letter upon letter, "with fresh odes upon his graceship, and an account where I lived, and what noblemen had accepted of my present." He walks before the "parlour-window," and "advances to address his grace to remember the poor author." At last his parcel of books is returned to him unopened, "with half-a-guinea upon top of the cargo," and "with desire to receive no more." Heaven, in its mercy, has relieved the tribe from these heartbreaking disgraces. There may be "the fear that kills," but there is no longer the patron who starves. Goldsmith has described the devices and the abasement95 of the little man in the coffee-house, who "drew out a bundle of proposals, begging me to subscribe86 to a new edition he was going to give the world of Propertius, with notes." His plans were more ingenious and diversified96 than those of Myles Davies: "I first besiege97 their hearts with flattery, and then pour in my proposals at the breach98. If they subscribe readily the first time, I renew my request to beg a dedication99 fee. If they let me have that, I smite100 them once more for engraving101 their coat-of-arms at the top." Forty years after Myles Davies, Samuel Johnson was enduring the anxieties attendant upon the subscription plan, although friends stood between the author and the customer. He writes to Burney in 1758, "I have likewise enclosed twelve receipts (for Shakspere); not that I mean to impose upon you the trouble of pushing them with more importunity102 than may seem proper," &c. {209} Long was the subscribed103 Shakspeare delayed; and the proud struggling man had to bear Churchill's malignity104, as well as the reproaches of his own sense of honour:—
"He for subscribers baits his hook,
And takes your cash; but where's the book?"
Well might Johnson write, in more prosperous times, "He that asks subscription soon finds that he has enemies. All who do not encourage him, defame him." Johnson and his publishers set no price upon their books, as a gratuity105 to the author, beyond their common market value. But great men had gone before them, who regulated their subscription prices by a higher estimate of the value of their works. Steele had received a guinea an octavo volume for the republication of 'The Tatler;' Pope had six guineas for his six quarto volumes of 'The Iliad;'—"a sum," says Johnson, "according to the value of money at that time, by no means inconsiderable." The subscription to Pope's 'Shakspeare' was also six guineas for six volumes. Johnson's projected translation of Paul Sarpi's 'History of the Council of Trent' was only to be charged twopence a sheet. That seems to have been the ordinary price of subscription books during the first half of the eighteenth century. Du Halde's 'China,' which appears to have required a great deal of what "the trade" call "pushing," was advertised by Cave at three halfpence a sheet; besides the attraction of a complicated lottery-scheme, with marvellous prizes. When the subscribers to a new book {210} were served, the remaining copies were sold, generally at superior rates. Sometimes, in the case of high-priced works, the unsold copies lay quiet through the mildew106 of a quarter of a century in the bookseller's warehouse107. At Tonson's sale, in 1767, Pope's six-guinea Shakspeare had fallen to sixteen shillings for the hundred and forty copies then sold as a "remainder."[24] Many of the subscription books were remarkably108 profitable. The gains of Pope upon his 'Iliad' are minutely recorded in his Life by Johnson. Lintot paid the expense of the subscription copies, and gave the poet two hundred pounds a volume in addition. Lintot looked for his remuneration to an edition in folio. The project was knocked on the head by a reprint in Holland, in duodecimo; which edition was clandestinely109 imported, as in the recent days of French editions of Byron and Scott. Lintot took a wise course. He went at once to the general public with editions in duodecimo, at half-a-crown a volume, of which he very soon sold seven thousand five hundred copies. But it may well be doubted if Pope would have made five thousand three hundred pounds, if he had originally gone, without the quarto subscription process, to the buyers of duodecimos. Perhaps even the duodecimos would not have sold extensively without the reputation of the quartos. There was no great reading public to make a fortune for the poet out of small profits upon large sales. Some {211} may think that Pope would have been as illustrious without the ease which this fortune gave him. It may be so. But of one thing we are clear—that in every age the higher rewards of authorship, reaped by one eminent individual, are benefits to the great body of authors; and thus that the villa110 at Twickenham had a certain influence in making what the world called "Grub-street" less despicable and more thriving. It dissociated authorship from garrets. Yet it is marvellous, even now, how some of the race of attorneys and stockbrokers111 turn up their eyes when they hear of a successful writer keeping a brougham, and lament54, over their claret, that such men will be improvident112.
In those days of subscription books there were great contrasts of success and loss; of steady support and capricious neglect. Conyers Middleton made a little fortune by his 'Life of Cicero,' in two volumes quarto, published in 1741. His suspected heterodoxy was no bar to his success. Carte, in 1747, printed three thousand copies of the first volume of his 'General History of England,' for which he had adequate support. In that unlucky volume his Jacobitism peeped out, in a relation of an astonishing cure for the king's-evil, produced by the touch of the first Pretender, who, he says, "had not at that time been crowned or anointed." Away went the "remainder" of the three thousand volumes to the trunk-maker, and of the subsequent volumes only seven hundred and fifty were printed. Whether by subscription, or by the mode of fixing {212} a published price for a general sale,—which, in the second half of the century, was superseding113 the attempt to ascertain61 the number of purchasers before publication,—there was always a great amount of caprice, or prejudice, in the unripe114 public judgment of a book, which rendered its fate very hazardous115 and uncertain. Hume, in 1754, published the first volume of his 'History of England.' He says, "Mr. Millar told me that in a twelvemonth he sold only forty-five copies of it." Gibbon published the first volume of his 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire' in 1776: "I am at a loss," he modestly tells us, "how to describe the success of the work without betraying the vanity of the writer. The first impression was exhausted116 in a few days; a second and third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand; and the bookseller's property was twice invaded by the pirates of Dublin." Thomson's 'Seasons' was lying as waste paper in the publisher's shop, when one Mr. Whatley purchased a copy; and his authority in the coffee-houses brought it into notice. Collins was not so fortunate. His 'Odes' would not sell. He repaid the bookseller the price he had received for the copyright, settled for the printing, and burnt the greater part of the impression.
We have put together some of these scattered117 facts, to show how difficult was the publication of books before a great general public had been raised up to read and purchase, and how the risk {213} of expensive works was sought to be lessened118 by taking hostages against evil fortune. The subdivision of large books into weekly or monthly numbers was one of the expedients119 that was early resorted to for attracting purchasers. Some curious relations of the first days of number-publishing are given in a rare pamphlet by the Rev23. Thomas Stackhouse, the author of the well-known 'History of the Bible.' In 1732 two booksellers, Mr. Wilford and Mr. Edlin, "when the success of some certain things published weekly set every little bookseller's wits to work," proposed to this poor curate of Finchley "to write something which might be published weekly, but what it was they knew not." At the Castle Tavern120, in Paternoster Row, the trio deliberated upon the "something" that was to have a run. Edlin was for a "Roman History, brushing up Ozell's dull style, when the old thing would still do in a weekly manner." Wilford was for 'Family Directors.' Stackhouse proposed the 'New History of the Bible.' Wilford backed out; Edlin and Stackhouse quarrelled. The divine wanted many works of commentators122 and critics. The bookseller maintained "that the chief of his subscribers lived in Southwark, Wapping, and Ratcliff Highway; that they had no notion of critics and commentators; that the work would be adapted to their capacity, and therefore the less learning in it the better." Stackhouse got out of the hands of this encourager of letters, found another publisher, and prospered123, as well as {214} he could, upon the subscriptions124 to his "four sheets of original matter for sixpence."[25] Many of the number-books were published under fictitious125 names of authors; and some actual authors, clerical and lay, lent their names to works of which they never saw a line. One of the most accomplished of the number-book writers was Dr. Robert Sanders, a self-created LL.D. He produced Histories of England, in folio and quarto, under various names. He was the writer of the Notes to the edition of the Bible, published in 1773, under the honoured name of Dr. Henry Southwell. The ingenious note-writer has told the story without reservation:—"As I was not a clergyman, my name could not be prefixed to it. Application was made to several clergymen for the use of their names; and at last Henry Southwell, LL.D., granted his." In a year or two the indefatigable126 Sanders was ready with a scheme for a larger commentary. He found a Doctor who would lend his name for a hundred pounds; but such a sum was out of the question. A mere127 A.M. was purchased for twenty pounds; but the affair broke down. The commentator121 relates that he was told by the proprietors128 "they had no further occasion for my services, and even denied me my week's wages." We hope the laborious129 Sanders was less scurvily130 treated by the publishers of that immortal131 work of his, which has been the glory of the number-trade even up to this hour, namely, 'The Newgate Calendar, or {215} Malefactor's Bloody132 Register.' How many fortunes have been made out of this great storehouse of popular knowledge is of little consequence to society. It may be of importance to consider how many imps133 of fame have here studied the path to glory. Sanders had a rival—the Rev. Mr. Villette, ordinary of Newgate—who published the 'Annals of Newgate, or Malefactor's Register,' &c., "intended as a beacon134 to warn the rising generation against the temptations, the allurements135, and the dangers of bad company." In this title-page "the celebrated136 John Sheppard," and "the equally celebrated Margaret Caroline Rudd," are leading attractions. The author of the 'Annals,' no doubt, prospered better than he of the 'Calendar.'
Poor wretched Sanders, during the period when he was correcting Lord Lyttleton's 'History of Henry II.,' had "a weekly subsistence;" but in 1768 he writes, "During these six weeks I have not tasted one whole meal of victuals137 at a time."[26] The original race of number-publishers had no very exalted138 notion of the value of literary labour. Their successors had no will to bestow89 any payment upon literature at all, while they had the old stores to produce and reproduce. They have now been forced into some few attempts at originality139. But the employment of new authorship is a rare exception to their ordinary course. When the necessity does arise, there is always perturbation of mind. In a moment of despair, when his press was standing12 {216} still for some of that manuscript which, in an unlucky hour, he had bargained for with a living writer, one of this fraternity exclaimed, "Give me dead authors, they never keep you waiting for copy!" Many good books have, however, been produced by the early number-publishers. We may mention Chambers140' 'Cyclop?dia,' Smollett's 'History of England,' and Scott's 'Bible.' Some well-printed books are still being produced, but the compilers help themselves freely to what others have dearly paid for. Taken as a whole, they are the least improved, and certainly they are the dearest books, in the whole range of popular literature. The system upon which they are sold is essentially that of forcing a sale; and the necessary cost of this forcing, called "canvassing," is sought to be saved in the quantity of the article "canvassed," or in the less obvious degradation of its quality. The "canvasser141" is an universal genius, and he must be paid as men of genius ought to be paid. He has to force off the commonest of wares by the most ingenious of devices. It is not the intrinsic merit of a book that is to command a sale, but the exterior142 accomplishments143 of the salesman. He adapts himself to every condition of person with whom he is thrown into contact. As in Birmingham and other great towns there is a beggars' register, which describes the susceptibilities of the families at whose gates beggars call, even to the particular theological opinions of the occupants, so the canvasser has a {217} pretty accurate account of the households within his beat. He knows where there is the customer in the kitchen, and the customer in the parlour. He sometimes has a timid colloquy144 with the cook in the passage; sometimes takes a glass of ale in the servants' hall; and, when he can rely upon the charms of his address, sends his card boldly into the drawing-room. No refusal can prevent him in the end leaving his number for inspection145. The system is most rife146 in North and Midland England; it is not so common in the agricultural South, although it might be an instrument of diffusing147 sound knowledge amongst a scattered population. If an effort were honestly made to publish works really cheap, because intrinsically good, upon "the canvassing system," that system, which has many real advantages, might be redeemed148 from the disgrace which now too often attaches to it, in the hands of the quacks149 who are most flourishing in that line.
The number-trade was a necessary offshoot of that periodical literature which sprang up into importance at the beginning of the eighteenth century, and which, in all its ramifications150, has had a more powerful influence than that of all other literature upon the intelligence of the great body of the people.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
subscription
|
|
| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
canvassing
|
|
| v.（在政治方面）游说( canvass的现在分词 )；调查（如选举前选民的）意见；为讨论而提出（意见等）；详细检查 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
essentially
|
|
| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
oars
|
|
| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
prerogative
|
|
| n.特权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
judgments
|
|
| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
derides
|
|
| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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
loathed
|
|
| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
loathsome
|
|
| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
gentry
|
|
| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
anatomy
|
|
| n.解剖学，解剖；功能，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
contemn
|
|
| v.蔑视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
prodigious
|
|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
tracts
|
|
| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
revolving
|
|
| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
rev
|
|
| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
pliant
|
|
| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
prone
|
|
| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
sages
|
|
| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sage
|
|
| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
worthies
|
|
| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
partisan
|
|
| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
vaults
|
|
| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
antiquated
|
|
| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
relish
|
|
| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
corrupted
|
|
| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
corrupt
|
|
| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
moor
|
|
| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
esteemed
|
|
| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
predecessors
|
|
| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
sate
|
|
| v.使充分满足 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
embroidery
|
|
| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
intrigues
|
|
| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
sedulous
|
|
| adj.勤勉的，努力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
banishment
|
|
| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
perseverance
|
|
| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
confessions
|
|
| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
jealousies
|
|
| n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 )；妒羡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
lament
|
|
| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
laments
|
|
| n.悲恸，哀歌，挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
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： |
|
|
|
|
57
chivalry
|
|
| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
drollery
|
|
| n.开玩笑，说笑话；滑稽可笑的图画（或故事、小戏等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
patronage
|
|
| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
statistical
|
|
| adj.统计的，统计学的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
ascertained
|
|
| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
deducting
|
|
| v.扣除，减去( deduct的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
ply
|
|
| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
abridge
|
|
| v.删减，删节，节略，缩短 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
puff
|
|
| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
wares
|
|
| n. 货物, 商品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
excellence
|
|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
cormorants
|
|
| 鸬鹚，贪婪的人( cormorant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
crouch
|
|
| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
dealers
|
|
| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
derived
|
|
| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
lessen
|
|
| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
lexicon
|
|
| n.字典，专门词汇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
subscribe
|
|
| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
degradation
|
|
| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
bestowing
|
|
| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
bestow
|
|
| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
levying
|
|
| 征（兵）( levy的现在分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
honorarium
|
|
| n.酬金，谢礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
lampoon
|
|
| n.讽刺文章；v.讽刺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
debtors
|
|
| n.债务人，借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
abasement
|
|
| n.滥用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
diversified
|
|
| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
besiege
|
|
| vt.包围，围攻，拥在...周围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
breach
|
|
| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
dedication
|
|
| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
smite
|
|
| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
engraving
|
|
| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
importunity
|
|
| n.硬要，强求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
subscribed
|
|
| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
malignity
|
|
| n.极度的恶意，恶毒；（病的）恶性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
gratuity
|
|
| n.赏钱，小费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
mildew
|
|
| n.发霉；v.（使）发霉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
warehouse
|
|
| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
clandestinely
|
|
| adv.秘密地，暗中地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
villa
|
|
| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
stockbrokers
|
|
| n.股票经纪人( stockbroker的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
improvident
|
|
| adj.不顾将来的，不节俭的，无远见的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
superseding
|
|
| 取代，接替( supersede的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
unripe
|
|
| adj.未成熟的；n.未成熟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
hazardous
|
|
| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
lessened
|
|
| 减少的，减弱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
expedients
|
|
| n.应急有效的，权宜之计的( expedient的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
commentator
|
|
| n.注释者，解说者；实况广播评论员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
commentators
|
|
| n.评论员( commentator的名词复数 )；时事评论员；注释者；实况广播员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
subscriptions
|
|
| n.（报刊等的）订阅费( subscription的名词复数 )；捐款；（俱乐部的）会员费；捐助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
fictitious
|
|
| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
indefatigable
|
|
| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
proprietors
|
|
| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
laborious
|
|
| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
scurvily
|
|
| 下流地，粗鄙地，无礼地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
131
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
imps
|
|
| n.（故事中的）小恶魔( imp的名词复数 )；小魔鬼；小淘气；顽童 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
beacon
|
|
| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
allurements
|
|
| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
victuals
|
|
| n.食物；食品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
exalted
|
|
| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
originality
|
|
| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
canvasser
|
|
| n.挨户推销商品的推销员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
exterior
|
|
| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
accomplishments
|
|
| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
colloquy
|
|
| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
rife
|
|
| adj.(指坏事情)充斥的，流行的，普遍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
diffusing
|
|
| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
redeemed
|
|
| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
quacks
|
|
| abbr.quacksalvers 庸医，骗子(16世纪习惯用水银或汞治疗梅毒的人)n.江湖医生( quack的名词复数 )；江湖郎中；（鸭子的）呱呱声v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
ramifications
|
|
| n.结果，后果( ramification的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |