It was fortunate for the Swiss mission that the new converts in general could not read any language but their own, and thus were ignorant of the deceptions1 which the American Elders had practised upon the people.
Monsieur Petitpierre, the Protestant minister who thought that the Revelation ought to be “prayerfully considered,” was the only one who understood English, and his knowledge was very limited. His wife did not at all coincide with him about the prayerful consideration of polygamy; she disposed of the subject without any prayer at all; and it is to be regretted that in this respect the whole body of the Mormon women did not follow her example.
What arguments she used I do not know; but that they were very much to the point no one can doubt, for they banished3 for ever all thoughts of polygamy from her husband’s mind. It was said among the Saints that she was very energetic in her private discussions with her husband. But however this might be, it is certain that Monsieur Petitpierre resisted as long as he could, for the Revelation quite fascinated the childless old man; and it is possible that he might have held fast to the faith, but unfortunately, just then certain documents and publications of the apostles, and a very large amount of evidence respecting them and their doings, attracted his attention. He was in the main a good and truthful4 man, although of small mental calibre, and the deceptions and contradictions which he discovered quite disgusted him. His wife’s strong personal arguments gave the finishing blow to his faith, and the spell was broken. The vision of a modern Hagar and a little Ishmael vanished from his mind; he apostatised—and Mr. Stenhouse lost the services of a very useful translator.
When I heard that he had left the church, how I wished that I could have followed in his footsteps! But apostasy5 from Mormonism is only possible to two classes—the young[87] disciple6, who has embraced the faith more from enthusiasm than from conviction, whose experience is limited; and the old disciple, who has entirely7 outgrown8 it, and has become disgusted with it all.
I was neither of these. My faith was too firmly grounded to admit of my giving it up. Though I hated polygamy, I did not dare to question the divinity of its origin. I only pitied myself and my sex for the burden which God had seen fit to place upon us. I never for a moment supposed that any man would have been so wicked as to fabricate a “Revelation,” or so blasphemous9 as to palm it off in the name of the Lord.
Oh yes, I hated polygamy in my heart. And my efforts in teaching it only increased my hatred10; for when I was gravely told by the Elders that woman had been cursed in the garden of Eden, and that polygamy was one of the results of that curse—“her desire shall be unto her husband, and he shall rule over her!”—I must confess that my heart within me was rebellious11. From my earliest childhood I had thought of God as a father and a friend, to whom I might go and tell all my griefs and cares; but now He was presented to me as a hard taskmaster, not as a father or a friend.
I met with much kindness, but I did not meet with much sympathy from the brethren. They could not understand that opposition12 to polygamy was anything else than selfishness on the part of the sisters; they did not comprehend the feelings of a woman’s heart—its craving13 for some object upon which to devote its whole wealth of love. They were taught that theirs was a nobler position than that of the sisters, and that women might consider themselves sufficiently14 honoured in being allowed to become the mothers of their children, and to help in building up their “kingdom.”
Of my missionary15 work in Switzerland subsequent to the introduction of polygamy I will say but little, except that it was too successful. The same sorrow and indignation which Madame Balif had so forcibly expressed, were shown by almost every new convert, and I had to bear the blame of teaching such a doctrine16. The sisters became unhappy, and wished that they had died in ignorance of Mormonism; and I felt humbled17 to the dust to think that I should be the innocent cause of so much misery18 to others. I looked anxiously for a change; but the only change which seemed probable was that we might be permitted to emigrate to Utah—and there was no comfort for me in that prospect19.
[88]
We remained in Switzerland until the close of the year 1854, and through the unremitting efforts of my husband Mormonism was introduced into six cantons of the Confederation. Monsieur Balif became an indefatigable20 missionary, as was also Governor Stoudeman; and to their liberality and zeal21 Mr. Stenhouse was greatly indebted. With the aid of Monsieur Balif, he established in Geneva a monthly periodical in the French language, for the edification of the Saints, besides publishing a book in reply to the attacks of the clergy22, and many minor23 effusions.
At that time there was great excitement among the Saints in Utah. Brigham Young and his apostles were denouncing the Gentiles in the most unmeasured language. As I write, a volume of sermons delivered at that time is before me, and I really can hardly credit that so much ridiculous nonsense, bad grammar, and blasphemy24, could ever have been uttered in a public place of worship—yet it was so. The Saints were told that in these last times all the vials of the wrath25 of God were about to be poured upon the earth; wars and desolations, anarchy26 and persecution27, fire, pestilence28, and unheard of horrors, were to desolate29 all the world, until men should call upon the rocks to hide them, and in the bitterness of their souls curse the day in which they were born; death was to be sought for, but not found. Believing, as they did, that all this was true, it is no wonder that the Saints in Europe were alarmed, and became anxious to emigrate to Utah, where they were told they would be safe. A seven years’ famine was said to be at the door, when a sack of wheat should be sold for a sack of gold, and Gentile kings and princes were to come and crouch30 to the Saints for a morsel31 of bread. The very women in Zion were counselled to sell the ribbons from their bonnets32, to buy flour with the proceeds, and to hide it away against the day of wrath.
The brethren and sisters in Switzerland who could dispose of their property hastened to “flee to Zion.” Some did so at a ruinous sacrifice. One gentleman, a Monsieur Robella, I knew, who was part proprietor33 of a newspaper and printing establishment. In a very short time it would have been entirely in his own hands; but he sold out at a great loss, dreading34 that the storm might overtake him before he reached the “chambers of the Lord in the mountains,” as the Elders called Salt Lake City.
The journey from Europe to Utah at that time occupied six or eight months; it was a very tedious pilgrimage. My[89] Swiss friends had first to travel to Liverpool; thence by sailing vessel35 to New Orleans; by steamer up the Mississippi as far as St. Louis; up the Missouri to the frontiers; and then across the plains by ox-teams. Much of this distance had to be travelled during the worst part of the year. They left their homes while the Jura mountains were still draped in snow; and those who escaped the ravages36 of cholera37 and the perils38 of the ways, reached their destination just as the frosts of winter were beginning to whiten the hoary40 heads of the hills which stand about Zion.
All the Swiss pilgrims travelled together until they arrived at St. Louis; there they separated, one party going up the river, and the other making the journey overland. The cholera attacked the latter party, and cut off the greater number of them, and their bones now whiten the prairie.
The news of their death soon arrived in Switzerland, and the people at Lausanne were exasperated41 against the Mormon missionaries42; and when my husband visited that place he found it prudent43 not to remain long. At the same time those of the Saints whose relations had perished in the emigration were pained to hear that it was because they “had not obeyed counsel,” and gone up the river with the other party, that they fell by the way. And, as if in mockery of this statement, the next news that we received was that a Missouri steamer, on board of which were many Mormon missionaries—all most obedient to counsel—had been blown to atoms. Many of the Saints began to consider these things, and their love waxed cold.
Through all this our position was anything but pleasant, and my husband applied44 for permission to be released from the presidency45 of the Swiss and Italian missions, in order that he might “gather to Zion.” His request was granted; and in the autumn of 1854 we bade a final adieu to Switzerland.
We might now be said to have begun our journey to Zion, although we tarried long by the way, and several years elapsed before we reached our destination.
When we arrived in London we obtained apartments in the house of the President of the London Conference, and there I had opportunities of observing the effects of the system upon the English Saints. Elder Marsden, the president, was a thorough Mormon, and a man who was very highly thought of. He had been acquainted with all the apostles and high priests who had resided in Liverpool—the great rendezvous46 of[90] the Saints in England; had been President of the Conference there, and now occupied the highest position of the European mission. He was a pleasant, intelligent man, who in his day had done much to build up the church; but, like his two predecessors47, John Banks and Thomas Margetts, he also apostatized from the Mormonism of later years. At the time, however, of which I speak, he was considered to be of good standing48 among the Saints.
Up to this time I had never seriously doubted my religion, and I probably never should have done so had it not been for the introduction of polygamy. But what I saw in London at that time sadly shook my faith, and the stories which I heard from Utah quite frightened me. Nothing, of course, was openly said, and at first I disbelieved every evil report, until at last it was impossible for me altogether to reject what was told me. The testimony49 of an apostate50 or of a Gentile would have been dismissed with contempt; but when we saw letters from mothers to their children, and husbands to their wives—all people of unquestioned faith, setting forth51 the troubled state of men’s minds in Utah, expressing fears for their own safety, and hinting at “cutting off” the transgressor52, and the doings of “Avenging Angels,” we could not cast them aside with contempt. My views of the glories of Zion were changing; henceforth I was never firm in the faith; I felt that there was something wrong.
Perhaps the reader may think that now I might have left the church, and thus have avoided all those troubles which awaited me in Utah. But let him remember that, although my faith was shaken, it was not wholly destroyed. All that I clung to on earth—my husband, whom I truly loved, and my darling children—were part and parcel of Mormonism. I could not tear myself from them, and isolate53 my soul from all that made life worth having.
My unsettled state of mind, however, did not long remain a secret. It was spoken of among the Saints, and I became an object of interest. The pastor54 over the London and adjoining Conferences was the son of one of the chief apostles in Utah—a young man, whose good nature was far better than his religion. He visited us very frequently, and used to bring with him the distinguished55 American Elders who might be visiting the metropolis56. I have no doubt that they were sincere in their desire to do me good; but it was not kind attentions that I then needed, it was the removal of the cause of my sorrows.
[91]
They tried to persuade me that it was all “the work of the Lord;” but I could not see it in that light, and very often in reply to their consolations57 I said very hard things of polygamy and the leaders of the church, whose conduct I considered sinful. And in this I did not stand alone, for I soon found that the President of the Conference, Elder Marsden, had been in the same position for years, and his wife was “quite through” with Mormonism. In fact, so great had been the distrust occasioned by polygamy, that in the report ending June 30th, 1853, it was stated that from the whole British church, which then numbered very nearly 31,000 souls—1776 had been excommunicated for apostasy!
Of those who remained faithful I cannot give a much more cheering account. The Elders who visited President Marsden made as damaging reports of the condition of the Saints as their worst enemies could desire. All that my young friend, Mary Burton, had told me did not equal the truth of what I saw for myself. No one had any confidence now in what the Elders said; how could they be trusted after so many years of deception2?
The Elders who visited me and reasoned with me about my want of faith, tried to persuade me to be baptized again. Among the Mormons it is the privilege of the faithful to be baptized over and over again, as often as may be needed, for the remission of their sins, which are thus washed away, and the penitent58 is enabled to start afresh. At that time of fearful excitement in Utah, called by the Mormons “The Reformation,” when people were being exhorted59 under terrible penalties to confess their sins, many were so frightened that they acknowledged themselves guilty of crimes of which they had never dreamed, while at the same time many horrible and detestable sins were brought to light. Brigham and the leaders found that they were confessing too much—the sinners were far more numerous than the godly. Brigham, with his usual craft, soon found a way of escape; the people were told to be baptized again, so that their sins being washed away, they could truly say they were not guilty of the crimes of which they might be accused.
I was not convinced, and did not see that I had anything to repent60 of, but I was quite willing to be re-baptized if it was thought proper. At the same time I stipulated61 that the President of the Conference, Elder Marsden, should be baptized with me. I felt that if I required re-baptizing, how much more necessary was it for Elder Marsden to have his sins[92] washed away also. I partly believed in the fearful stories that I had heard from Zion, but it was he who had shown them to me. The Pastor of the Conference gave no sign that he suspected my meaning in wishing Elder Marsden to be baptized at the same time as I was, though I believe he must have formed a pretty shrewd guess. And so we two went down into the water, but I am afraid that little of our sins was washed away. Not long after, President Marsden apostatized, and my heart remained as hard as ever. At least I was frequently told so.
Poor Elder Marsden! He was branded with the most opprobrious62 titles which Mormon ingenuity63 or malice64 could fling against him: and yet I know of many men—not one nor two, associated most intimately with Brigham Young to-day, whose faith is not a whit39 stronger than that apostate’s, who serve the Prophet because it is their interest to do so, but who in their hearts no more believe in his high pretensions65 than did James Marsden, the President of the London Conference.
Meanwhile, the season for emigration had again arrived, and we were directed to hold ourselves in readiness to start. Although by no means unexpected, this “counsel” to emigrate came very painfully to me, for every step we took towards Utah seemed to bring me nearer to the realization66 of my worst apprehensions67. I had lost my affection for Mormonism, and my enthusiasm had now quite melted away. But to refuse to go was altogether out of the question.
Two little ones had been added to our family in Geneva, and a fourth was born in London, the Christmas Day after our return from the continent. The foggy atmosphere of the metropolis did not agree with them at all, accustomed, as they had been, to the pure and bracing68 air of Switzerland, and I soon had serious illness in my family. My second little girl, Minnie, was so sick that we almost despaired of her life, and the others required constant attention; while the little baby boy, only a few weeks old, was seldom out of my arms. Just then it was, when so very awkwardly situated69, that the notification came for us to set our faces Zionward.
They chided us for our want of faith, because we did not take our poor little sick child from her bed at the risk of life; but I thank God now that nature was stronger than our fanaticism70, and that our little girl was spared to grow up a blessing71 of which we shall ever be proud.
[93]
One day, President Marsden came to me confidentially72, and told me that the brethren were determined73 that I should leave England, and had counted upon my yielding in a moment of despair. My husband was to be counselled to go without me to Utah, if I persisted in my refusal. After he had left London, Elder Marsden was to give me notice to leave his house; and left destitute74, and entirely among strangers, it was thought that I should be only too glad to follow.
I cannot tell how indignant I was; I could not find words sufficiently contemptuous to express what I felt; I reproached Elder Marsden with cowardice75 for agreeing to such an inhuman76 proposition, and I declared that I would not risk the life of my child if an eternity77 of suffering awaited me.
My husband was absent when this took place; but when he returned he approved of what I had done, and Elder Marsden was consequently “counselled” to send us away. The doctor warned us against the danger of exposing my little daughter to the cold in removing her; but we had no choice, for we were obliged to leave. Those were very painful times. Constant watching and anxiety had undermined my own health, and I fell ill. Even then, had we been left alone we might have escaped much of our trouble; but the incessant78 meddling79 of “counsel” was a perpetual irritation80, and we were completely worn out with annoyance81.
A pleasant apartment at the west end of the town was taken for me, by the advice of the medical man, and I was removed thither82 with my baby. I was not equal even to the task of taking care of that little thing, and had to procure83 the assistance of a nurse; the other children were cared for by friends. All that I needed was rest and tranquillity84 of mind, and I soon began to recover strength, though far from well. But this state of quietude was soon to be disturbed. Again we were notified that the last emigrant85 ship of the season was about to leave, and we must sail in her; and again we were obliged to refuse. My husband telegraphed to the Apostle at Liverpool that I was not well enough to travel, and he was told to “bring me along, and I should get better.” The Apostle (!) cared nothing for individual suffering providing the ambitious plans of the priesthood in Salt Lake City were carried out. But my husband, anxious though he was to set out for Utah, and obedient as he ever was to “counsel,” was not such a slave as they thought him, and he positively86 refused to go. For this he was very much blamed, and it was said that his own faith must be wavering.
[94]
Since my arrival in London I had several times seen my young friend, Mary Burton. She had, as she told me in her letters, very greatly changed, for she had now become quite a young lady. Still she retained most of her winning ways, though her childish prettiness had given place to the more mature beauty of womanhood; and when I saw her I was not surprised that she should be an object of attention, or that Elder Shrewsbury should have felt so deeply her rejection87 of him.
I also had a visit from another person, whom I little expected to see. This was no other than Elder Shrewsbury himself, who, I had been told, had left London some months before. This, he said was quite true; he had left London, and gone to work as a missionary hundreds of miles away; trying to forget his disappointment, but to no purpose. His was one of those natures which, though kind and considerate to every one, are not ready to form hasty attachments88, but which, when once they do meet with an object upon which to lavish89 their affections, became devoted90 in friendship and unchanging in love. Their affections flow more deeply than those of most people.
Such was Elder Shrewsbury, and such I thought he would always be; but what disposition91, however good, can be relied upon when influenced by religious fanaticism? He stood before me, then, manly92 and upright in his bearing, truthful and honest—a man who would have scorned evasion93 or deceit; and his every thought of Mary was replete94 with tenderness and love. And yet I lived to see that man again, in Utah—alas, how changed a man!
Before we first left England I was acquainted with Elder Shrewsbury, but not very intimately. We had had one or two interesting conversations together, but I remembered him chiefly in connexion with Mary Burton. It was about her that he now came to see me;—he wanted me to talk to her, and intercede95 with her in his behalf. But I was no match-maker, and all my thoughts respecting love and marriage had recently been anything but pleasant. I told him plainly that I thought Mary had done quite right in refusing to see him, and, in fact, declining to receive the attentions of any Mormon man. I did not doubt his love for her at present, I said; but no one could any longer rely upon a Mormon Elder’s word. Years to come, when they had a little family growing up around them, and when it would be too late for Mary to repent of trusting him, he might suddenly be convinced of the necessity of obeying the Revelation, and then what could she do? No! Even supposing that she loved him, which, I said,[95] was very questionable96, it was better that she should suffer a disappointment now, than have her heart wrung97 with cruelty and neglect in after-years.
“What!” he cried, his eyes dashing with indignation; “do you take me for a dog that I should treat her so?”
“No, no,” I said, and tried to pacify98 him; “I do not think anything bad of you, but I look upon you as a man who is in love, and therefore blind. You think of nothing now but Mary, and are willing to sacrifice everything, and to promise anything, providing you can win her. But when she has become your wife, if she ever does, and you have time to cool down, you’ll begin to see things in another light. You’ll find that she is only an ordinary woman, made of flesh and blood, like all the other daughters of Eve, and with, I daresay, quite as many whims99, and fancies, and perverse100 ways as any of them; and then, when she ceases to be ‘an angel’ in your eyes, and becomes merely a woman, you’ll begin to assert your right to think and judge for yourself, and very probably all your former devotion to your religion will return.”
“Sister Stenhouse,” he replied, “you do not seem to have a very high opinion of my constancy; but I can assure you that I have given this matter my most earnest, prayerful thought. My love for Mary I need not mention; my devotion to my religion you only partly know. While we were told that Polygamy was not true, no one could be more steadfast101 in the faith than I was; and when the Revelation came, I looked upon it as a blight102 and a curse to the Church of God. And how well-founded my fears were, you can see from this terrible apostasy which has come upon us. I almost myself left the Church. Then I went to the Apostle, and I told him how I was situated. I told him all about Mary, and my devotion to her; that I wished to win her for my wife, but that I knew she would not marry me if she thought there was the shadow of a chance that I should live up to the Revelation. I told him that I myself should be perfectly103 wretched in Polygamy, and that it was impossible that I should love more than one. The Apostle said that I was quite right in all this. We had no proof, he said, in the Bible, that Isaac had more than one wife, and he was accepted of God. He counselled me to do all I could to win Mary, and told me that I might truthfully promise her that I would never enter into Polygamy. But Mary would not so much as listen to me; in fact, since then she never would see me alone.”
“I am not sure,” I answered, “whether I am doing right;[96] but I don’t mind saying to you that I think, from what I have seen of Mary, that she does not dislike you; but she is a sensible girl, and does not choose to risk the happiness of her whole life.”
He was vexed104 with me for saying this. How could I suppose that he would wreck105 her happiness? Was he not willing to die if it would give her a moment’s pleasure? And much more lover’s nonsense he talked.
点击收听单词发音
1 deceptions | |
欺骗( deception的名词复数 ); 骗术,诡计 | |
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2 deception | |
n.欺骗,欺诈;骗局,诡计 | |
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3 banished | |
v.放逐,驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 truthful | |
adj.真实的,说实话的,诚实的 | |
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5 apostasy | |
n.背教,脱党 | |
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6 disciple | |
n.信徒,门徒,追随者 | |
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7 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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8 outgrown | |
长[发展] 得超过(某物)的范围( outgrow的过去分词 ); 长[发展]得不能再要(某物); 长得比…快; 生长速度超过 | |
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9 blasphemous | |
adj.亵渎神明的,不敬神的 | |
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10 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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11 rebellious | |
adj.造反的,反抗的,难控制的 | |
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12 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
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13 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
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14 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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15 missionary | |
adj.教会的,传教(士)的;n.传教士 | |
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16 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
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17 humbled | |
adj. 卑下的,谦逊的,粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下,贬低 | |
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18 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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19 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
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20 indefatigable | |
adj.不知疲倦的,不屈不挠的 | |
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21 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
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22 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
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23 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
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24 blasphemy | |
n.亵渎,渎神 | |
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25 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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26 anarchy | |
n.无政府状态;社会秩序混乱,无秩序 | |
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27 persecution | |
n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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28 pestilence | |
n.瘟疫 | |
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29 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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30 crouch | |
v.蹲伏,蜷缩,低头弯腰;n.蹲伏 | |
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31 morsel | |
n.一口,一点点 | |
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32 bonnets | |
n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 );(烟囱等的)覆盖物;(苏格兰男子的)无边呢帽;(女子戴的)任何一种帽子 | |
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33 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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34 dreading | |
v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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35 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
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36 ravages | |
劫掠后的残迹,破坏的结果,毁坏后的残迹 | |
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37 cholera | |
n.霍乱 | |
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38 perils | |
极大危险( peril的名词复数 ); 危险的事(或环境) | |
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39 whit | |
n.一点,丝毫 | |
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40 hoary | |
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41 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
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42 missionaries | |
n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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43 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
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44 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
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45 presidency | |
n.总统(校长,总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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46 rendezvous | |
n.约会,约会地点,汇合点;vi.汇合,集合;vt.使汇合,使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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47 predecessors | |
n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 );前辈;(被取代的)原有事物;前身 | |
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48 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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49 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
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50 apostate | |
n.背叛者,变节者 | |
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51 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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52 transgressor | |
n.违背者 | |
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53 isolate | |
vt.使孤立,隔离 | |
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54 pastor | |
n.牧师,牧人 | |
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55 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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56 metropolis | |
n.首府;大城市 | |
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57 consolations | |
n.安慰,慰问( consolation的名词复数 );起安慰作用的人(或事物) | |
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58 penitent | |
adj.后悔的;n.后悔者;忏悔者 | |
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59 exhorted | |
v.劝告,劝说( exhort的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60 repent | |
v.悔悟,悔改,忏悔,后悔 | |
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61 stipulated | |
vt.& vi.规定;约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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62 opprobrious | |
adj.可耻的,辱骂的 | |
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63 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
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64 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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65 pretensions | |
自称( pretension的名词复数 ); 自命不凡; 要求; 权力 | |
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66 realization | |
n.实现;认识到,深刻了解 | |
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67 apprehensions | |
疑惧 | |
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68 bracing | |
adj.令人振奋的 | |
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69 situated | |
adj.坐落在...的,处于某种境地的 | |
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70 fanaticism | |
n.狂热,盲信 | |
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71 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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72 confidentially | |
ad.秘密地,悄悄地 | |
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73 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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74 destitute | |
adj.缺乏的;穷困的 | |
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75 cowardice | |
n.胆小,怯懦 | |
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76 inhuman | |
adj.残忍的,不人道的,无人性的 | |
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77 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
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78 incessant | |
adj.不停的,连续的 | |
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79 meddling | |
v.干涉,干预(他人事务)( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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80 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
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81 annoyance | |
n.恼怒,生气,烦恼 | |
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82 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
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83 procure | |
vt.获得,取得,促成;vi.拉皮条 | |
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84 tranquillity | |
n. 平静, 安静 | |
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85 emigrant | |
adj.移居的,移民的;n.移居外国的人,移民 | |
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86 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
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87 rejection | |
n.拒绝,被拒,抛弃,被弃 | |
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88 attachments | |
n.(用电子邮件发送的)附件( attachment的名词复数 );附着;连接;附属物 | |
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89 lavish | |
adj.无节制的;浪费的;vt.慷慨地给予,挥霍 | |
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90 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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91 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
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92 manly | |
adj.有男子气概的;adv.男子般地,果断地 | |
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93 evasion | |
n.逃避,偷漏(税) | |
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94 replete | |
adj.饱满的,塞满的;n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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95 intercede | |
vi.仲裁,说情 | |
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96 questionable | |
adj.可疑的,有问题的 | |
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97 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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98 pacify | |
vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒);抚慰 | |
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99 WHIMS | |
虚妄,禅病 | |
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100 perverse | |
adj.刚愎的;坚持错误的,行为反常的 | |
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101 steadfast | |
adj.固定的,不变的,不动摇的;忠实的;坚贞不移的 | |
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102 blight | |
n.枯萎病;造成破坏的因素;vt.破坏,摧残 | |
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103 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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104 vexed | |
adj.争论不休的;(指问题等)棘手的;争论不休的问题;烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
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105 wreck | |
n.失事,遇难;沉船;vt.(船等)失事,遇难 | |
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