Vol. I. The Antichrist: an Attempt at a Criticism of Christianity.
Vol. II. The Free Spirit: a Criticism of Philosophy as a Nihilistic Movement.
Vol. III. The Immoralist: a Criticism of Morality, the Most Fatal Form of Ignorance.
The first sketches7 for “The Will to Power” were made in 1884, soon after the publication of the first three parts of “Thus Spake Zarathustra,” and thereafter, for four years, Nietzsche piled up notes. They were written at all the places he visited on his endless travels in search of health—at Nice, at Venice, at Sils-Maria in the Engadine (for long his favourite resort), at Cannobio, at Zürich, at Genoa, at Chur, at Leipzig. Several times his work was interrupted by other books, first by “Beyond Good and Evil,” then by “The Genealogy8 of Morals” (written in twenty days), then by his Wagner pamphlets. Almost as often he changed his plan. Once he decided9 to expand “The Will to Power” to ten volumes, with “An Attempt at a New Interpretation10 of the World” as a general sub-title. Again he adopted the sub-title of “An Interpretation of All That Happens.” Finally, he hit upon “An Attempt at a Transvaluation of All Values,” and went back to four volumes, though with a number of changes in their arrangement. In September, 1888, he began actual work upon the first volume, and before the end of the month it was completed. The Summer had been one of almost hysterical12 creative activity. Since the middle of June he had written two other small books, “The Case of Wagner” and “The Twilight13 of the Idols,” and before the end of the year he was destined14 to write “Ecce Homo.” Some time during December his health began to fail rapidly, and soon after the New Year he was helpless. Thereafter he wrote no more.
The Wagner diatribe15 and “The Twilight of the Idols” were published immediately, but “The Antichrist” did not get into type until 1895. I suspect that the delay was due to the influence of the philosopher’s sister, Elisabeth F?rster-Nietzsche, an intelligent and ardent16 but by no means uniformly judicious17 propagandist of his ideas. During his dark days of neglect and misunderstanding, when even family and friends kept aloof18, Frau F?rster-Nietzsche went with him farther than any other, but there were bounds beyond which she, also, hesitated to go, and those bounds were marked by crosses. One notes, in her biography of him—a useful but not always accurate work—an evident desire to purge19 him of the accusation20 of mocking at sacred things. He had, she says, great admiration21 for “the elevating effect of Christianity ... upon the weak and ailing,” and “a real liking22 for sincere, pious23 Christians24,” and “a tender love for the Founder25 of Christianity.” All his wrath26, she continues, was reserved for “St. Paul and his like,” who perverted the Beatitudes, which Christ intended for the lowly only, into a universal religion which made war upon aristocratic values. Here, obviously, one is addressed by an interpreter who cannot forget that she is the daughter of a Lutheran pastor27 and the grand-daughter of two others; a touch of conscience gets into her reading of “The Antichrist.” She even hints that the text may have been garbled28, after the author’s collapse29, by some more sinister30 heretic. There is not the slightest reason to believe that any such garbling31 ever took place, nor is there any evidence that their common heritage of piety32 rested upon the brother as heavily as it rested upon the sister. On the contrary, it must be manifest that Nietzsche, in this book, intended to attack Christianity headlong and with all arms, that for all his rapid writing he put the utmost care into it, and that he wanted it to be printed exactly as it stands. The ideas in it were anything but new to him when he set them down. He had been developing them since the days of his beginning. You will find some of them, clearly recognizable, in the first book he ever wrote, “The Birth of Tragedy.” You will find the most important of all of them—the conception of Christianity as ressentiment—set forth33 at length in the first part of “The Genealogy of Morals,” published under his own supervision34 in 1887. And the rest are scattered35 through the whole vast mass of his notes, sometimes as mere36 questionings but often worked out very carefully. Moreover, let it not be forgotten that it was Wagner’s yielding to Christian4 sentimentality in “Parsifal” that transformed Nietzsche from the first among his literary advocates into the most bitter of his opponents. He could forgive every other sort of mountebankery38, but not that. “In me,” he once said, “the Christianity of my forbears reaches its logical conclusion. In me the stern intellectual conscience that Christianity fosters and makes paramount39 turns against Christianity. In me Christianity ... devours40 itself.”
In truth, the present philippic is as necessary to the completeness of the whole of Nietzsche’s system as the keystone is to the arch. All the curves of his speculation41 lead up to it. What he flung himself against, from beginning to end of his days of writing, was always, in the last analysis, Christianity in some form or other—Christianity as a system of practical ethics42, Christianity as a political code, Christianity as meta physics, Christianity as a gauge43 of the truth. It would be difficult to think of any intellectual enterprise on his long list that did not, more or less directly and clearly, relate itself to this master enterprise of them all. It was as if his apostasy45 from the faith of his fathers, filling him with the fiery46 zeal47 of the convert, and particularly of the convert to heresy48, had blinded him to every other element in the gigantic self-delusion49 of civilized50 man. The will to power was his answer to Christianity’s affectation of humility51 and self-sacrifice; eternal recurrence was his mocking criticism of Christian optimism and millennialism; the superman was his candidate for the place of the Christian ideal of the “good” man, prudently52 abased53 before the throne of God. The things he chiefly argued for were anti-Christian things—the abandonment of the purely54 moral view of life, the rehabilitation55 of instinct, the dethronement of weakness and timidity as ideals, the renunciation of the whole hocus-pocus of dogmatic religion, the extermination56 of false aristocracies (of the priest, of the politician, of the plutocrat), the revival57 of the healthy, lordly “innocence” that was Greek. If he was anything in a word, Nietzsche was a Greek born two thousand years too late. His dreams were thoroughly58 Hellenic; his whole manner of thinking was Hellenic; his peculiar59 errors were Hellenic no less. But his Hellenism, I need not add, was anything but the pale neo-Platonism that has run like a thread through the thinking of the Western world since the days of the Christian Fathers. From Plato, to be sure, he got what all of us must get, but his real forefather60 was Heraclitus. It is in Heraclitus that one finds the germ of his primary view of the universe—a view, to wit, that sees it, not as moral phenomenon, but as mere aesthetic61 representation. The God that Nietzsche imagined, in the end, was not far from the God that such an artist as Joseph Conrad imagines—a supreme62 craftsman63, ever experimenting, ever coming closer to an ideal balancing of lines and forces, and yet always failing to work out the final harmony.
The late war, awakening64 all the primitive65 racial fury of the Western nations, and therewith all their ancient enthusiasm for religious taboos66 and sanctions, naturally focused attention upon Nietzsche, as upon the most daring and provocative67 of recent amateur theologians. The Germans, with their characteristic tendency to ex plain their every act in terms as realistic and unpleasant as possible, appear to have mauled him in a belated and unexpected embrace, to the horror, I daresay, of the Kaiser, and perhaps to the even greater horror of Nietzsche’s own ghost. The folks of Anglo-Saxondom, with their equally characteristic tendency to explain all their enterprises romantically, simultaneously68 set him up as the Antichrist he no doubt secretly longed to be. The result was a great deal of misrepresentation and misunderstanding of him. From the pulpits of the allied69 countries, and particularly from those of England and the United States, a horde70 of patriotic71 ecclesiastics72 denounced him in extravagant73 terms as the author of all the horrors of the time, and in the newspapers, until the Kaiser was elected sole bugaboo, he shared the honors of that office with von Hindenburg, the Crown Prince, Capt. Boy-Ed, von Bernstorff and von Tirpitz. Most of this denunciation, of course, was frankly74 idiotic—the na?ve pishposh of suburban75 Methodists, notoriety-seeking college professors, almost illiterate76 editorial writers, and other such numskulls. In much of it, including not a few official hymns77 of hate, Nietzsche was gravely discovered to be the teacher of such spokesmen of the extremest sort of German nationalism as von Bernhardi and von Treitschke—which was just as intelligent as making George Bernard Shaw the mentor79 of Lloyd-George. In other solemn pronunciamentoes he was credited with being philosophically81 responsible for various imaginary crimes of the enemy—the wholesale82 slaughter83 or mutilation of prisoners of war, the deliberate burning down of Red Cross hospitals, the utilization84 of the corpses85 of the slain86 for soap-making. I amused myself, in those gaudy87 days, by collecting newspaper clippings to this general effect, and later on I shall probably publish a digest of them, as a contribution to the study of war hysteria. The thing went to unbelievable lengths. On the strength of the fact that I had published a book on Nietzsche in 1906, six years after his death, I was called upon by agents of the Department of Justice, elaborately outfitted88 with badges, to meet the charge that I was an intimate associate and agent of “the German monster, Nietzsky.” I quote the official procès verbal, an indignant but often misspelled document. Alas89, poor Nietzsche! After all his laborious90 efforts to prove that he was not a German, but a Pole—even after his heroic readiness, via anti-anti-Semitism, to meet the deduction91 that, if a Pole, then probably also a Jew!
But under all this alarmed and preposterous92 tosh there was at least a sound instinct, and that was the instinct which recognized Nietzsche as the most eloquent93, pertinacious94 and effective of all the critics of the philosophy to which the Allies against Germany stood committed, and on the strength of which, at all events in theory, the United States had engaged itself in the war. He was not, in point of fact, involved with the visible enemy, save in remote and transient ways; the German, officially, remained the most ardent of Christians during the war and became a democrat95 at its close. But he was plainly a foe96 of democracy in all its forms, political, religious and epistemological, and what is worse, his opposition97 was set forth in terms that were not only extraordinarily98 penetrating99 and devastating100, but also uncommonly101 offensive. It was thus quite natural that he should have aroused a degree of indignation verging102 upon the pathological in the two countries that had planted themselves upon the democratic platform most boldly, and that felt it most shaky, one may add, under their feet. I daresay that Nietzsche, had he been alive, would have got a lot of satisfaction out of the execration103 thus heaped upon him, not only because, being a vain fellow, he enjoyed execration as a tribute to his general singularity, and hence to his superiority, but also and more importantly because, being no mean psychologist, he would have recognized the disconcerting doubts underlying104 it. If Nietzsche’s criticism of democracy were as ignorant and empty, say, as the average evangelical clergyman’s criticism of Darwin’s hypothesis of natural selection, then the advocates of democracy could afford to dismiss it as loftily as the Darwinians dismiss the blather of the holy clerks. And if his attack upon Christianity were mere sound and fury, signifying nothing, then there would be no call for anathemas105 from the sacred desk. But these onslaughts, in point of fact, have behind them a tremendous learning and a great deal of point and plausibility—there are, in brief, bullets in the gun, teeth in the tiger,—and so it is no wonder that they excite the ire of men who hold, as a primary article of belief, that their acceptance would destroy civilization, darken the sun, and bring Jahveh to sobs106 upon His Throne.
But in all this justifiable107 fear, of course, there remains108 a false assumption, and that is the assumption that Nietzsche proposed to destroy Christianity altogether, and so rob the plain people of the world of their virtue109, their spiritual consolations111, and their hope of heaven. Nothing could be more untrue. The fact is that Nietzsche had no interest whatever in the delusions112 of the plain people—that is, intrinsically. It seemed to him of small moment what they believed, so long as it was safely imbecile. What he stood against was not their beliefs, but the elevation113 of those beliefs, by any sort of democratic process, to the dignity of a state philosophy—what he feared most was the pollution and crippling of the superior minority by intellectual disease from below. His plain aim in “The Antichrist” was to combat that menace by completing the work begun, on the one hand, by Darwin and the other evolutionist philosophers, and, on the other hand, by German historians and philologians. The net effect of this earlier attack, in the eighties, had been the collapse of Christian theology as a serious concern of educated men. The mob, it must be obvious, was very little shaken; even to this day it has not put off its belief in the essential Christian doctrines115. But the intelligentsia, by 1885, had been pretty well convinced. No man of sound information, at the time Nietzsche planned “The Antichrist,” actually believed that the world was created in seven days, or that its fauna116 was once overwhelmed by a flood as a penalty for the sins of man, or that Noah saved the boa constrictor, the prairie dog and the pediculus capitis by taking a pair of each into the ark, or that Lot’s wife was turned into a pillar of salt, or that a fragment of the True Cross could cure hydrophobia. Such notions, still almost universally prevalent in Christendom a century before, were now confined to the great body of ignorant and credulous117 men—that is, to ninety-five or ninety-six percent. of the race. For a man of the superior minority to subscribe118 to one of them publicly was already sufficient to set him off as one in imminent119 need of psychiatrical attention. Belief in them had become a mark of inferiority, like the allied belief in madstones, magic and apparitions120.
But though the theology of Christianity had thus sunk to the lowly estate of a mere delusion of the rabble121, propagated on that level by the ancient caste of sacerdotal parasites122, the ethics of Christianity continued to enjoy the utmost acceptance, and perhaps even more acceptance than ever before. It seemed to be generally felt, in fact, that they simply must be saved from the wreck—that the world would vanish into chaos123 if they went the way of the revelations supporting them. In this fear a great many judicious men joined, and so there arose what was, in essence, an absolutely new Christian cult44—a cult, to wit, purged124 of all the supernaturalism superimposed upon the older cult by generations of theologians, and harking back to what was conceived to be the pure ethical125 doctrine114 of Jesus. This cult still flourishes; Protestantism tends to become identical with it; it invades Catholicism as Modernism; it is supported by great numbers of men whose intelligence is manifest and whose sincerity126 is not open to question. Even Nietzsche himself yielded to it in weak moments, as you will discover on examining his somewhat laborious effort to make Paul the villain127 of Christian theology, and Jesus no more than an innocent bystander. But this sentimental37 yielding never went far enough to distract his attention for long from his main idea, which was this: that Christian ethics were quite as dubious128, at bot tom, as Christian theology—that they were founded, just as surely as such childish fables129 as the story of Jonah and the whale, upon the peculiar prejudices and credulities, the special desires and appetites, of inferior men—that they warred upon the best interests of men of a better sort quite as unmistakably as the most extravagant of objective superstitions130. In brief, what he saw in Christian ethics, under all the poetry and all the fine show of altruism131 and all the theoretical benefits therein, was a democratic effort to curb132 the egoism of the strong—a conspiracy133 of the chandala against the free functioning of their superiors, nay134, against the free progress of mankind. This theory is the thing he exposes in “The Antichrist,” bringing to the business his amazingly chromatic135 and exigent eloquence136 at its finest flower. This is the “conspiracy” he sets forth in all the panoply137 of his characteristic italics, dashes, sforzando interjections and exclamation138 points.
Well, an idea is an idea. The present one may be right and it may be wrong. One thing is quite certain: that no progress will be made against it by denouncing it as merely immoral5. If it is ever laid at all, it must be laid evidenti ally, logically. The notion to the contrary is thoroughly democratic; the mob is the most ruthless of tyrants139; it is always in a democratic society that heresy and felony tend to be most constantly confused. One hears without surprise of a Bismarck philosophizing placidly140 (at least in his old age) upon the delusion of Socialism and of a Frederick the Great playing the hose of his cynicism upon the absolutism that was almost identical with his own person, but men in the mass never brook141 the destructive discussion of their fundamental beliefs, and that impatience142 is naturally most evident in those societies in which men in the mass are most influential143. Democracy and free speech are not facets144 of one gem11; democracy and free speech are eternal enemies. But in any battle between an institution and an idea, the idea, in the long run, has the better of it. Here I do not venture into the absurdity145 of arguing that, as the world wags on, the truth always survives. I believe nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, it seems to me that an idea that happens to be true—or, more exactly, as near to truth as any human idea can be, and yet remain generally intelligible—it seems to me that such an idea carries a special and often fatal handi cap. The majority of men prefer delusion to truth. It soothes146. It is easy to grasp. Above all, it fits more snugly147 than the truth into a universe of false appearances—of complex and irrational148 phenomena149, defectively151 grasped. But though an idea that is true is thus not likely to prevail, an idea that is attacked enjoys a great advantage. The evidence behind it is now supported by sympathy, the sporting instinct, sentimentality—and sentimentality is as powerful as an army with banners. One never hears of a martyr152 in history whose notions are seriously disputed today. The forgotten ideas are those of the men who put them forward soberly and quietly, hoping fatuously153 that they would conquer by the force of their truth; these are the ideas that we now struggle to rediscover. Had Nietzsche lived to be burned at the stake by outraged154 Mississippi Methodists, it would have been a glorious day for his doctrines. As it is, they are helped on their way every time they are denounced as immoral and against God. The war brought down upon them the maledictions of vast herds155 of right-thinking men. And now “The Antichrist,” after fifteen years of neglect, is being reprinted....
One imagines the author, a sardonic156 wraith157, snickering somewhat sadly over the fact. His shade, wherever it suffers, is favoured in these days by many such consolations, some of them of much greater horsepower. Think of the facts and arguments, even the underlying theories and attitudes, that have been borrowed from him, consciously and unconsciously, by the foes158 of Bolshevism during these last thrilling years! The face of democracy, suddenly seen hideously159 close, has scared the guardians160 of the reigning161 plutocracy162 half to death, and they have gone to the devil himself for aid. Southern Senators, almost illiterate men, have mixed his acids with well water and spouted163 them like affrighted geysers, not knowing what they did. Nor are they the first to borrow from him. Years ago I called attention to the debt incurred164 with characteristic forgetfulness of obligation by the late Theodore Roosevelt, in “The Strenuous165 Life” and elsewhere. Roosevelt, a typical apologist for the existing order, adeptly166 dragging a herring across the trail whenever it was menaced, yet managed to delude167 the native boobery, at least until toward the end, into accepting him as a fiery exponent168 of pure democ racy. Perhaps he even fooled himself; charlatans169 usually do so soon or late. A study of Nietzsche reveals the sources of much that was honest in him, and exposes the hollowness of much that was sham170. Nietzsche, an infinitely171 harder and more courageous172 intellect, was incapable173 of any such confusion of ideas; he seldom allowed sentimentality to turn him from the glaring fact. What is called Bolshevism today he saw clearly a generation ago and described for what it was and is—democracy in another aspect, the old ressentiment of the lower orders in free function once more. Socialism, Puritanism, Philistinism, Christianity—he saw them all as allotropic forms of democracy, as variations upon the endless struggle of quantity against quality, of the weak and timorous174 against the strong and enterprising, of the botched against the fit. The world needed a staggering exaggeration to make it see even half of the truth. It trembles today as it trembled during the French Revolution. Perhaps it would tremble less if it could combat the monster with a clearer conscience and less burden of compromising theory—if it could launch its forces frankly at the fundamental doctrine, and not merely employ them to police the transient orgy.
Nietzsche, in the long run, may help it toward that greater honesty. His notions, propagated by cuttings from cuttings from cuttings, may conceivably prepare the way for a sounder, more healthful theory of society and of the state, and so free human progress from the stupidities which now hamper175 it, and men of true vision from the despairs which now sicken them. I say it is conceivable, but I doubt that it is probable. The soul and the belly176 of mankind are too evenly balanced; it is not likely that the belly will ever put away its hunger or forget its power. Here, perhaps, there is an example of the eternal recurrence that Nietzsche was fond of mulling over in his blacker moods. We are in the midst of one of the perennial177 risings of the lower orders. It got under way long before any of the current Bolshevist demons178 was born; it was given its long, secure start by the intolerable tyranny of the plutocracy—the end product of the Eighteenth Century revolt against the old aristocracy. It found resistance suddenly slackened by civil war within the plutocracy itself—one gang of traders falling upon another gang, to the tune179 of vast hymn-singing and yells to God. Perhaps it has already passed its apogee180; the plutocracy, chastened, shows signs of a new solidarity181; the wheel continues to swing ’round. But this combat between proletariat and plutocracy is, after all, itself a civil war. Two inferiorities struggle for the privilege of polluting the world. What actual difference does it make to a civilized man, when there is a steel strike, whether the workmen win or the mill-owners win? The conflict can interest him only as spectacle, as the conflict between Bonaparte and the old order in Europe interested Goethe and Beethoven. The victory, whichever way it goes, will simply bring chaos nearer, and so set the stage for a genuine revolution later on, with (let us hope) a new feudalism or something better coming out of it, and a new Thirteenth Century at dawn. This seems to be the slow, costly182 way of the worst of habitable worlds.
In the present case my money is laid upon the plutocracy. It will win because it will be able, in the long run, to enlist183 the finer intelligences. The mob and its maudlin184 causes attract only sentimentalists and scoundrels, chiefly the latter. Politics, under a democracy, reduces itself to a mere struggle for office by flatterers of the proletariat; even when a superior man prevails at that disgusting game he must prevail at the cost of his self-respect. Not many superior men make the attempt. The average great captain of the rabble, when he is not simply a weeper over irremediable wrongs, is a hypocrite so far gone that he is unconscious of his own hypocrisy—a slimy fellow, offensive to the nose. The plutocracy can recruit measurably more respectable janissaries, if only because it can make self-interest less obviously costly to amour propre. Its defect and its weakness lie in the fact that it is still too young to have acquired dignity. But lately sprung from the mob it now preys185 upon, it yet shows some of the habits of mind of that mob: it is blatant186, stupid, ignorant, lacking in all delicate instinct and governmental finesse187. Above all, it remains somewhat heavily moral. One seldom finds it undertaking188 one of its characteristic imbecilities without offering a sonorous189 moral reason; it spends almost as much to support the Y. M. C. A., vice-crusading, Prohibition190 and other such puerilities as it spends upon Congressmen, strike-breakers, gun-men, kept patriots191 and newspapers. In Eng land the case is even worse. It is almost impossible to find a wealthy industrial over there who is not also an eminent192 non-conformist layman193, and even among financiers there are praying brothers. On the Continent, the day is saved by the fact that the plutocracy tends to become more and more Jewish. Here the intellectual cynicism of the Jew almost counterbalances his social unpleasantness. If he is destined to lead the plutocracy of the world out of Little Bethel he will fail, of course, to turn it into an aristocracy—i. e., a caste of gentlemen—, but he will at least make it clever, and hence worthy194 of consideration. The case against the Jews is long and damning; it would justify195 ten thousand times as many pogroms as now go on in the world. But whenever you find a Davidsbündlerschaft making practise against the Philistines196, there you will find a Jew laying on. Maybe it was this fact that caused Nietzsche to speak up for the children of Israel quite as often as he spoke78 against them. He was not blind to their faults, but when he set them beside Christians he could not deny their general superiority. Perhaps in America and England, as on the Continent, the increasing Jewishness of the plutocracy, while cutting it off from all chance of ever developing into an aristocracy, will yet lift it to such a dignity that it will at least deserve a certain grudging197 respect.
But even so, it will remain in a sort of half-world, midway between the gutter198 and the stars. Above it will still stand the small group of men that constitutes the permanent aristocracy of the race—the men of imagination and high purpose, the makers199 of genuine progress, the brave and ardent spirits, above all petty fears and discontents and above all petty hopes and ideals no less. There were heroes before Agamemnon; there will be Bachs after Johann Sebastian. And beneath the Judaized plutocracy, the sublimated200 bourgeoisie, there the immemorial proletariat, I venture to guess, will roar on, endlessly tortured by its vain hatreds201 and envies, stampeded and made to tremble by its ancient superstitions, prodded202 and made miserable203 by its sordid204 and degrading hopes. It seems to me very likely that, in this proletariat, Christianity will continue to survive. It is nonsense, true enough, but it is sweet. Nietzsche, denouncing its dangers as a poison, almost falls into the error of denying it its undoubtedly205 sugary smack206. Of all the religions ever devised by the great practical jokers of the race, this is the one that offers most for the least money, so to speak, to the inferior man. It starts out by denying his inferiority in plain terms: all men are equal in the sight of God. It ends by erecting207 that inferiority into a sort of actual superiority: it is a merit to be stupid, and miserable, and sorely put upon—of such are the celestial208 elect. Not all the eloquence of a million Nietzsches, nor all the painful marshalling of evidence of a million Darwins and Harnacks, will ever empty that great consolation110 of its allure209. The most they can ever accomplish is to make the superior orders of men acutely conscious of the exact nature of it, and so give them armament against the contagion210. This is going on; this is being done. I think that “The Antichrist” has a useful place in that enterprise. It is strident, it is often extravagant, it is, to many sensitive men, in the worst of possible taste, but at bottom it is enormously apt and effective—and on the surface it is undoubtedly a good show. One somehow enjoys, with the malice211 that is native to man, the spectacle of anathemas batted back; it is refreshing212 to see the pitchfork employed against gentlemen who have doomed such innumerable caravans213 to hell. In Nietzsche they found, after many long years, a foeman worthy of them—not a mere fancy swordsman like Voltaire, or a mob orator214 like Tom Paine, or a pedant215 like the heretics of exegesis216, but a gladiator armed with steel and armoured with steel, and showing all the ferocious217 gusto of a mediaeval bishop218. It is a pity that Holy Church has no process for the elevation of demons, like its process for the canonization of saints. There must be a long roll of black miracles to the discredit219 of the Accursed Friedrich—sinners purged of conscience and made happy in their sinning, clerics shaken in their theology by visions of a new and better holy city, the strong made to exult220, the weak robbed of their old sad romance. It would be a pleasure to see the Advocatus Diaboli turn from the table of the prosecution221 to the table of the defence, and move in solemn form for the damnation of the Naumburg hobgoblin....
Of all Nietzsche’s books, “The Antichrist” comes nearest to conventionality in form. It presents a connected argument with very few interludes, and has a beginning, a middle and an end. Most of his works are in the form of col lections of apothegms, and sometimes the subject changes on every second page. This fact constitutes one of the counts in the orthodox indictment222 of him: it is cited as proof that his capacity for consecutive223 thought was limited, and that he was thus deficient224 mentally, and perhaps a downright moron225. The argument, it must be obvious, is fundamentally nonsensical. What deceives the professors is the traditional prolixity226 of philosophers. Because the average philosophical80 writer, when he essays to expose his ideas, makes such inordinate227 drafts upon the parts of speech that the dictionary is almost emptied these defective150 observers jump to the conclusion that his intrinsic notions are of corresponding weight. This is not unseldom quite untrue. What makes philosophy so garrulous228 is not the profundity229 of philosophers, but their lack of art; they are like physicians who sought to cure a slight hyperacidity by giving the patient a carload of burned oyster-shells to eat. There is, too, the endless poll-parrotting that goes on: each new philosopher must prove his learning by laboriously230 rehearsing the ideas of all previous philosophers.... Nietzsche avoided both faults. He always assumed that his readers knew the books, and that it was thus unnecessary to rewrite them. And, having an idea that seemed to him to be novel and original, he stated it in as few words as possible, and then shut down. Sometimes he got it into a hundred words; sometimes it took a thousand; now and then, as in the present case, he developed a series of related ideas into a connected book. But he never wrote a word too many. He never pumped up an idea to make it appear bigger than it actually was. The pedagogues231, alas, are not accustomed to that sort of writing in serious fields. They resent it, and sometimes they even try to improve it. There exists, in fact, a huge and solemn tome on Nietzsche by a learned man of America in which all of his brilliancy is painfully translated into the windy phrases of the seminaries. The tome is satisfactorily ponderous232, but the meat of the cocoanut is left out: there is actually no discussion of the Nietzschean view of Christianity!... Always Nietzsche daunts233 the pedants234. He employed too few words for them—and he had too many ideas.
The present translation of “The Antichrist” is published by agreement with Dr. Oscar Levy235, editor of the English edition of Nietzsche. There are two earlier translations, one by Thomas Common and the other by Anthony M. Ludovici. That of Mr. Common follows the text very closely, and thus occasionally shows some essentially236 German turns of phrase; that of Mr. Ludovici is more fluent but rather less exact. I do not offer my own version on the plea that either of these is useless; on the contrary, I cheerfully acknowledge that they have much merit, and that they helped me at almost every line. I began this new Englishing of the book, not in any hope of supplanting237 them, and surely not with any notion of meeting a great public need, but simply as a private amusement in troubled days. But as I got on with it I began to see ways of putting some flavour of Nietzsche’s peculiar style into the English, and so amusement turned into a more or less serious labour. The result, of course, is far from satisfactory, but it at least represents a very diligent238 attempt. Nietzsche, always under the influence of French models, wrote a German that differs materially from any other German that I know. It is more nervous, more varied239, more rapid in tempo240; it runs to more effective climaxes241; it is never stodgy. His marks begin to show upon the writing of the younger Germans of today. They are getting away from the old thunderous manner, with its long sentences and its tedious grammatical complexities242. In the course of time, I daresay, they will develop a German almost as clear as French and almost as colourful and resilient as English.
I owe thanks to Dr. Levy for his imprimatur, to Mr. Theodor Hemberger for criticism, and to Messrs. Common and Ludovici for showing me the way around many a difficulty.
H. L. Mencken.
点击收听单词发音
1 raucous | |
adj.(声音)沙哑的,粗糙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 autobiography | |
n.自传 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 immoral | |
adj.不道德的,淫荡的,荒淫的,有伤风化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 recurrence | |
n.复发,反复,重现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 sketches | |
n.草图( sketch的名词复数 );素描;速写;梗概 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 genealogy | |
n.家系,宗谱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 gem | |
n.宝石,珠宝;受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 hysterical | |
adj.情绪异常激动的,歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 diatribe | |
n.抨击,抨击性演说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 purge | |
n.整肃,清除,泻药,净化;vt.净化,清除,摆脱;vi.清除,通便,腹泻,变得清洁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 pious | |
adj.虔诚的;道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 Christians | |
n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 Founder | |
n.创始者,缔造者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 pastor | |
n.牧师,牧人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 garbled | |
adj.(指信息)混乱的,引起误解的v.对(事实)歪曲,对(文章等)断章取义,窜改( garble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 collapse | |
vi.累倒;昏倒;倒塌;塌陷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 garbling | |
v.对(事实)歪曲,对(文章等)断章取义,窜改( garble的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 piety | |
n.虔诚,虔敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 supervision | |
n.监督,管理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 mountebankery | |
n.江湖医生的行业或行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 paramount | |
a.最重要的,最高权力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 devours | |
吞没( devour的第三人称单数 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 speculation | |
n.思索,沉思;猜测;投机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 ethics | |
n.伦理学;伦理观,道德标准 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 gauge | |
v.精确计量;估计;n.标准度量;计量器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 cult | |
n.异教,邪教;时尚,狂热的崇拜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 apostasy | |
n.背教,脱党 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 heresy | |
n.异端邪说;异教 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 prudently | |
adv. 谨慎地,慎重地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 abased | |
使谦卑( abase的过去式和过去分词 ); 使感到羞耻; 使降低(地位、身份等); 降下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 rehabilitation | |
n.康复,悔过自新,修复,复兴,复职,复位 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 extermination | |
n.消灭,根绝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 revival | |
n.复兴,复苏,(精力、活力等的)重振 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 forefather | |
n.祖先;前辈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 aesthetic | |
adj.美学的,审美的,有美感 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 craftsman | |
n.技工,精于一门工艺的匠人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 taboos | |
禁忌( taboo的名词复数 ); 忌讳; 戒律; 禁忌的事物(或行为) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 provocative | |
adj.挑衅的,煽动的,刺激的,挑逗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 simultaneously | |
adv.同时发生地,同时进行地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 allied | |
adj.协约国的;同盟国的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 horde | |
n.群众,一大群 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 patriotic | |
adj.爱国的,有爱国心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 ecclesiastics | |
n.神职者,教会,牧师( ecclesiastic的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 suburban | |
adj.城郊的,在郊区的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 illiterate | |
adj.文盲的;无知的;n.文盲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 hymns | |
n.赞美诗,圣歌,颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 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: |
|
|
79 mentor | |
n.指导者,良师益友;v.指导 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 philosophically | |
adv.哲学上;富有哲理性地;贤明地;冷静地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 wholesale | |
n.批发;adv.以批发方式;vt.批发,成批出售 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 slaughter | |
n.屠杀,屠宰;vt.屠杀,宰杀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 utilization | |
n.利用,效用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 corpses | |
n.死尸,尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 gaudy | |
adj.华而不实的;俗丽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 outfitted | |
v.装备,配置设备,供给服装( outfit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 laborious | |
adj.吃力的,努力的,不流畅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 deduction | |
n.减除,扣除,减除额;推论,推理,演绎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 preposterous | |
adj.荒谬的,可笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 pertinacious | |
adj.顽固的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 democrat | |
n.民主主义者,民主人士;民主党党员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 foe | |
n.敌人,仇敌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 penetrating | |
adj.(声音)响亮的,尖锐的adj.(气味)刺激的adj.(思想)敏锐的,有洞察力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 devastating | |
adj.毁灭性的,令人震惊的,强有力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 uncommonly | |
adv. 稀罕(极,非常) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 verging | |
接近,逼近(verge的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 execration | |
n.诅咒,念咒,憎恶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 underlying | |
adj.在下面的,含蓄的,潜在的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 anathemas | |
n.(天主教的)革出教门( anathema的名词复数 );诅咒;令人极其讨厌的事;被基督教诅咒的人或事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 sobs | |
啜泣(声),呜咽(声)( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 justifiable | |
adj.有理由的,无可非议的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 consolations | |
n.安慰,慰问( consolation的名词复数 );起安慰作用的人(或事物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 delusions | |
n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 );谬见;错觉;妄想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 doctrines | |
n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 );教义;学说;(政府政策的)正式声明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 fauna | |
n.(一个地区或时代的)所有动物,动物区系 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 credulous | |
adj.轻信的,易信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 subscribe | |
vi.(to)订阅,订购;同意;vt.捐助,赞助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 imminent | |
adj.即将发生的,临近的,逼近的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 apparitions | |
n.特异景象( apparition的名词复数 );幽灵;鬼;(特异景象等的)出现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 rabble | |
n.乌合之众,暴民;下等人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 parasites | |
寄生物( parasite的名词复数 ); 靠他人为生的人; 诸虫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 chaos | |
n.混乱,无秩序 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 purged | |
清除(政敌等)( purge的过去式和过去分词 ); 涤除(罪恶等); 净化(心灵、风气等); 消除(错事等)的不良影响 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 ethical | |
adj.伦理的,道德的,合乎道德的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 sincerity | |
n.真诚,诚意;真实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 fables | |
n.寓言( fable的名词复数 );神话,传说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 superstitions | |
迷信,迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 altruism | |
n.利他主义,不自私 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 curb | |
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 conspiracy | |
n.阴谋,密谋,共谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 chromatic | |
adj.色彩的,颜色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 panoply | |
n.全副甲胄,礼服 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 tyrants | |
专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 ); 暴君似的人; (古希腊的)僭主; 严酷的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 placidly | |
adv.平稳地,平静地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 influential | |
adj.有影响的,有权势的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 facets | |
n.(宝石或首饰的)小平面( facet的名词复数 );(事物的)面;方面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 absurdity | |
n.荒谬,愚蠢;谬论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 soothes | |
v.安慰( soothe的第三人称单数 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 snugly | |
adv.紧贴地;贴身地;暖和舒适地;安适地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 irrational | |
adj.无理性的,失去理性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 defective | |
adj.有毛病的,有问题的,有瑕疵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 defectively | |
adv.有缺陷地,缺乏地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 martyr | |
n.烈士,殉难者;vt.杀害,折磨,牺牲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 fatuously | |
adv.愚昧地,昏庸地,蠢地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 outraged | |
a.震惊的,义愤填膺的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 herds | |
兽群( herd的名词复数 ); 牧群; 人群; 群众 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 sardonic | |
adj.嘲笑的,冷笑的,讥讽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 wraith | |
n.幽灵;骨瘦如柴的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 foes | |
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 hideously | |
adv.可怕地,非常讨厌地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 guardians | |
监护人( guardian的名词复数 ); 保护者,维护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 reigning | |
adj.统治的,起支配作用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 plutocracy | |
n.富豪统治 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 spouted | |
adj.装有嘴的v.(指液体)喷出( spout的过去式和过去分词 );滔滔不绝地讲;喋喋不休地说;喷水 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 incurred | |
[医]招致的,遭受的; incur的过去式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 strenuous | |
adj.奋发的,使劲的;紧张的;热烈的,狂热的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 adeptly | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 delude | |
vt.欺骗;哄骗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 exponent | |
n.倡导者,拥护者;代表人物;指数,幂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 charlatans | |
n.冒充内行者,骗子( charlatan的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 sham | |
n./adj.假冒(的),虚伪(的) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 courageous | |
adj.勇敢的,有胆量的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 timorous | |
adj.胆怯的,胆小的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 hamper | |
vt.妨碍,束缚,限制;n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 belly | |
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 perennial | |
adj.终年的;长久的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 demons | |
n.恶人( demon的名词复数 );恶魔;精力过人的人;邪念 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 apogee | |
n.远地点;极点;顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 solidarity | |
n.团结;休戚相关 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 enlist | |
vt.谋取(支持等),赢得;征募;vi.入伍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 maudlin | |
adj.感情脆弱的,爱哭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 preys | |
v.掠食( prey的第三人称单数 );掠食;折磨;(人)靠欺诈为生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 blatant | |
adj.厚颜无耻的;显眼的;炫耀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 finesse | |
n.精密技巧,灵巧,手腕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 sonorous | |
adj.响亮的,回响的;adv.圆润低沉地;感人地;n.感人,堂皇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 prohibition | |
n.禁止;禁令,禁律 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 patriots | |
爱国者,爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 layman | |
n.俗人,门外汉,凡人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 philistines | |
n.市侩,庸人( philistine的名词复数 );庸夫俗子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 grudging | |
adj.勉强的,吝啬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 gutter | |
n.沟,街沟,水槽,檐槽,贫民窟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 makers | |
n.制造者,制造商(maker的复数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 sublimated | |
v.(使某物质)升华( sublimate的过去式和过去分词 );使净化;纯化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 hatreds | |
n.仇恨,憎恶( hatred的名词复数 );厌恶的事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 prodded | |
v.刺,戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 );刺激;促使;(用手指或尖物)戳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 sordid | |
adj.肮脏的,不干净的,卑鄙的,暗淡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 smack | |
vt.拍,打,掴;咂嘴;vi.含有…意味;n.拍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 erecting | |
v.使直立,竖起( erect的现在分词 );建立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 celestial | |
adj.天体的;天上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 allure | |
n.诱惑力,魅力;vt.诱惑,引诱,吸引 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 contagion | |
n.(通过接触的疾病)传染;蔓延 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 caravans | |
(可供居住的)拖车(通常由机动车拖行)( caravan的名词复数 ); 篷车; (穿过沙漠地带的)旅行队(如商队) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 orator | |
n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 pedant | |
n.迂儒;卖弄学问的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 exegesis | |
n.注释,解释 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 ferocious | |
adj.凶猛的,残暴的,极度的,十分强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 bishop | |
n.主教,(国际象棋)象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 discredit | |
vt.使不可置信;n.丧失信义;不信,怀疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 exult | |
v.狂喜,欢腾;欢欣鼓舞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 prosecution | |
n.起诉,告发,检举,执行,经营 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 indictment | |
n.起诉;诉状 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 consecutive | |
adj.连续的,联贯的,始终一贯的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 deficient | |
adj.不足的,不充份的,有缺陷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 moron | |
n.极蠢之人,低能儿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 prolixity | |
n.冗长,罗嗦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 inordinate | |
adj.无节制的;过度的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 garrulous | |
adj.唠叨的,多话的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 profundity | |
n.渊博;深奥,深刻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 laboriously | |
adv.艰苦地;费力地;辛勤地;(文体等)佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 pedagogues | |
n.教师,卖弄学问的教师( pedagogue的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
232 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
233 daunts | |
使(某人)气馁,威吓( daunt的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
234 pedants | |
n.卖弄学问的人,学究,书呆子( pedant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
235 levy | |
n.征收税或其他款项,征收额 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
236 essentially | |
adv.本质上,实质上,基本上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
237 supplanting | |
把…排挤掉,取代( supplant的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
238 diligent | |
adj.勤勉的,勤奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
239 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
240 tempo | |
n.(音乐的)速度;节奏,行进速度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
241 climaxes | |
n.顶点( climax的名词复数 );极点;高潮;性高潮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
242 complexities | |
复杂性(complexity的名词复数); 复杂的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |