The most significant and most creditable celebration ever held in Washington has just transpired1. A good ruler has been followed from his home to the Capitol by a grand cortege, worthy2 of the memory and of the nation's power. As description must do injustice3 to the extent of the display, so must criticism fail to sufficiently4 commend its perfect tastefulness, Rarely has a Republican assemblage been so orderly. The funeral of Mr. Lincoln is something to be remembered for a cycle. It caps all eulogy5 upon his life and services, and was, without exception, the most representative, spontaneous, and remarkable6 testimonial ever rendered to the remains7 of an American citizen.
The night before the funeral showed the probable character of the cortege. At Willard's alone four hundred applications by telegraph for beds were refused. As many as six thousand persons spent Tuesday night in the streets, in depots8 and in outbuildings. The population of the city this morning was not far short of a hundred thousand, and of these as many at thirty thousand walked in procession with Mr. Lincoln's ashes.
All orders of folks were at hand. The country adjacent sent in hay-wagons, donkey-carts, dearborns. All who could slip away from the army came to town, and every attainable9 section of the union forwarded mourners. At no time in his life had Mr. Lincoln so many to throng10 about him as in this hour, when he is powerless to do any one a service. For once in history, office-seekers were disinterested11, and contractors12 and hangers-on human. These came, for this time only, to the capital of the republic without an axe13 to grind or a curiosity to subserve; respect and grief were all their motive14. This day was shown that the great public heart beats unselfish and reverent15, even after a dynasty of plunder16 and war.
The arrangements for the funeral were made by Mr. Harrington, Assistant-Secretary of the Treasury17, who was beset18 by applicants19 for tickets. The number of these were reduced to six hundred, the clergy20 getting sixty and the press twenty. I was among the first to pass the White House guards and enter the building.
Its freestone columns were draped in black, and all the windows were funereal21. The ancient reception-room was half closed, and the famous East room, which is approached by a spacious22 hall, had been reserved for the obsequies. There are none present here but a few silent attendants of the late owner of the republican palace. Deeply ensconced in the white satin stuffing of his coffin23, the President lies like one asleep. The broad, high, beautiful room is like the varnished24 interior of a vault25. The frescoed26 ceiling wears the national shield, some pointed27 vases filled with flowers and fruit, and three emblazonings of gilt28 pendant from which are shrouded29 chandeliers. A purplish gray is the prevailing30 tint31 of the ceiling. The cornice is silver white, set off by a velvet32 crimson33. The wall paper is gold and red, broken by eight lofty mirrors, which are chastely34 margined35 with black and faced with fleece.
Their imperfect surfaces reflect the lofty catafalque, an open canopy36 of solemn alapaca, lined with tasteful satin of creamish lead, looped at the curving roof and dropping to the four corners in half transparent37 tapestry38. Beneath the roof, the half light shines upon a stage of fresh and fragrant39 flowers, up-bearing a long, high coffin. White lace of pure silver pendant from the border throws a mild shimmer40 upon the solid silver tracery hinges and emblazonings. A cross of lilies stands at the head, an anchor of roses at the foot. The lid is drawn41 back to show the face and bosom42, and on the coffin top are heather, precious flowers, and sprigs of green. This catafalque, or in plain words, this coffin set upon a platform and canopied43, has around it a sufficient space of Brussels carpet, and on three sides of this there are raised steps covered with black, on which the honored visitors are to stand.
The fourth side is bare, save of a single row of chairs some twenty in number, on which the reporters are to sit. The odor of the room is fresh and healthy; the shade is solemn, without being oppressive. All is rich, simple, and spacious, and in such sort as any king might wish to lie. Approach and look at the dead man.
Death has fastened into his frozen face all the character and idiosyncrasy of life. He has not changed one line of his grave, grotesque44 countenance45, nor smoothed out a single feature. The hue46 is rather bloodless and leaden; but he was alway sallow. The dark eyebrows47 seem abruptly48 arched; the beard, which will grow no more, is shaved close, save the tuft at the short small chin. The mouth is shut, like that of one who had put the foot down firm, and so are the eyes, which look as calm as slumber50. The collar is short and awkward, turned over the stiff elastic51 cravat52, and whatever energy or humor or tender gravity marked the living face is hardened into its pulseless outline. No corpse53 in the world is better prepared according to appearances. The white satin around it reflects sufficient light upon the face to show us that death is really there; but there are sweet roses and early magnolias, and the balmiest of lilies strewn around, as if the flowers had begun to bloom even upon his coffin. Looking on uninterruptedly! for there is no pressure, and henceforward the place will be thronged54 with gazers who will take from the sight its suggestiveness and respect. Three years ago, when little Willie Lincoln died, Doctors Brown and Alexander, the embalmers or injectors, prepared his body so handsomely that the President had it twice disinterred to look upon it. The same men, in the same way, have made perpetual these beloved lineaments. There is now no blood in the body; it was drained by the jugular56 vein57 and sacredly preserved, and through a cutting on the inside of the thigh58 the empty blood vessels59 were charged with a chemical preparation which soon hardened to the consistence of stone. The long and bony body is now hard and stiff, so that beyond its present position it cannot be moved any more than the arms or legs of a statue. It has undergone many changes. The scalp has been removed, the brain taken out, the chest opened and the blood emptied. All that we see of Abraham Lincoln, so cunningly contemplated60 in this splendid coffin, is a mere61 shell, an effigy62, a sculpture. He lies in sleep, but it is the sleep of marble. All that made this flesh vital, sentient63, and affectionate is gone forever.
The officers present are Generals Hunter and Dyer and two staff captains. Hunter, compact and dark and reticent64, walks about the empty chamber65 in full uniform, his bright buttons and sash and sword contrasting with his dark blue uniform, gauntlets upon his hands, crape on his arm and blade, his corded hat in his hands, a paper collar just apparent above his velvet tips, and now and then he speaks to Captain Nesmith or Captain Dewes, of General Harding's staff, rather as one who wishes company than one who has anything to say. His two silver stars upon his shoulder shine dimly in the draped apartment. He was one of the first in the war to urge the measures which Mr. Lincoln afterward66 adopted. The aids walk to and fro, selected without reference to any association with the late President. Their clothes are rich, their swords wear mourning, they go in silence, everything is funereal. In the deeply-draped mirrors strange mirages67 are seen, as in the coffin scene of "Lucretia Borgia," where all the dusky perspectives bear vistas68 of gloomy palls69. The upholsterers make timid noises of driving nails and spreading tapestry; but save ourselves and these few watchers and workers, only the dead is here. The White House, so ill-appreciated in common times, is seen to be capacious and elegant—no disgrace to the nation even in the eyes of those foreign folk of rank who shall gather here directly.
As we sit brooding, with the pall70 straight before us, the funeral guns are heard indistinctly booming from the far forts, with the tap of drums in the serried71 street without, where troops and citizens are forming for the grand procession. We see through the window in the beautiful spring day that the grass is brightly green; and all the trees in blossom, show us through their archways the bronze and marble statues breaking the horizon. But there is one at an upper window, seeing all this through her tears, to whom the beautiful noon, with its wealth of zephyrs72 and sweets, can waft73 no gratulation. The father of her children, the confidant of her affection and ambition, has passed from life into immortality74, and lies below, dumb, cold murdered. The feeling of sympathy for Mrs. Lincoln is as wide-spread as the regret for the chief magistrate76. Whatever indiscretions she may have committed in the abrupt49 transition from plainness to power are now forgiven and forgotten. She and her sons are the property of the nation associated with its truest glories and its worst bereavement77. By and by the guests drop in, hat in hand, wearing upon their sleeves waving crape; and some of them slip up to the coffin to carry away a last impression of the fading face.
But the first accession of force is that of the clergy, sixty in number. They are devout78 looking men, darkly attired79, and have come from all the neighboring cities to represent every denomination80. Five years ago these were wrangling81 over slavery as a theological question, and at the beginning of the war it was hard, in many of their bodies, to carry loyal resolutions, To-day there are here such sincere mourners as Robert Pattison, of the Methodist church, who passed much of his life among slaves and masters. He and the rest have come to believe that the President was wise and right, and follow him to his grave, as the apostles the interred55 on calvary. All these retire to the south end of the room, facing the feet of the corpse, and stand there silently to wait for the coming of others. Very soon this East room is filled with the representative intelligence of the entire nation. The governors of states stand on the dais next to the head of the coffin, with the varied82 features of Curtin, Brough, Fenton, Stone, Oglesby and Ingraham. Behind them are the mayors and councilmen of many towns paying their last respects to the representative of the source of all municipal freedom. To their left are the corporate83 officers of Washington, zealous84 to make this day's funeral honors atone85 for the shame of the assassination86. With these are sprinkled many scarred and worthy soldiers who have borne the burden of the grand war, and stand before this shape they loved in quiet civil reverence87.
Still further down the steps and closer to the catafalque rest the familiar faces of many of our greatest generals—the manly88 features of Augur89, whose blood I have seen trickling90 forth91 upon the field of battle; the open almost, beardless contour of Halleck, who has often talked of sieges and campaigns with this homely92 gentleman who is going to the grave. There are many more bright stars twinkling in contiguous shoulder bars, but sitting in a chair upon the beflowered carpet is Ulysses Grant, who has lived a century in the last three weeks and comes to-day to add the luster93 of his iron face to this thrilling and saddened picture. He wears white gloves and sash, and is swarthy, nervous, and almost tearful, his feet crossed, his square receding94 head turning now here now there, his treble constellation95 blazing upon the left shoulder only, but hidden on the right, and I seem to read upon his compact features the indurate and obstinate96 will to fight, on the line he has selected, the honor of the country through any peril97, as if he had sworn it by the slain98 man's bier—his state-fellow, patron, and friend. Here also is General McCallum, who has seamed the rebellious99 South with military roads to send victory along them, and bring back the groaning100 and the scarred. These and the rest are grand historic figures, worthy of all artistic101 depiction102. They have looked so often into the mortar's mouth, that no bravo's blade can make them wince103. Do you see the thin-haired, conical head of the viking Farragut, close by General Grant, with many naval104 heroes close behind, storm-beaten, and every inch Americans in thought and physiognomy?
What think the foreign ambassadors of such men, in the light of their own overloaded105 bodies, where meaningless orders, crosses, and ribbons shine dimly in the funeral light? These legations number, perhaps, a hundred men, of all civilized106 races,—the Sardinian envoy107, jetty-eyed, towering above the rest. But they are still and respectful, gathered thus by a slain ruler, to see how worthy is the republic he has preserved. Whatever sympathy these have for our institutions, I think that in such audience they must have been impressed with the futility108 of any thought that either one citizen right or one territorial109 inch can ever be torn from the United States. Not to speak disparagingly110 of these noble guests, I was struck with the superior facial energy of our own public servants, who were generally larger, and brighter-faced, born of that aristocracy which took its patent from Tubal Cain, and Abel the goatherd, and graduated in Abraham Lincoln. The Haytien minister, swarthy and fiery-faced, is conspicuous111 among these.
But nearer down, and just opposite the catafalque so that it is perpendicular112 to the direction of vision, stand the central powers of our government, its President and counsellors. President Johnson is facing the middle of the coffin upon the lowest step; his hands are crossed upon his breast, his dark clothing just revealing his plaited shirt, and upon his full, plethoric113, shaven face, broad and severely114 compact, two telling gray eyes rest under a thoughtful brow, whose turning hair is straight and smooth. Beside him are Vice-President Hamlin, whom he succeeded, and ex-Governor King, his most intimate friend, who lends to the ruling severity of the place a half Falstaffian episode. The cabinet are behind, as if arranged for a daguerreotypist, Stanton, short and quicksilvery, in long goatee and glasses, in stunted115 contrast to the tall and snow-tipped shape of Mr. Welles with the rest, practical and attentive116, and at their side is Secretary Chase, high, dignified117, and handsome, with folded arms, listening, but undemonstrative, a half-foot higher than any spectator, and dividing with Charles Sumner, who is near by, the preference for manly beauty in age. With Mr. Chase are other justices of the Supreme118 Court and to their left, near the feet of the corpse, are the reverend senators, representing the oldest and the newest states—splendid faces, a little worn with early and later toils119, backed up by the high, classical features of Colonel Forney, their secretary. Beyond are the representatives and leading officials of the various departments, with a few odd folks like George Francis Train, exquisite120 as ever, and, for this time only, with nothing to say.
Close by the corpse sit the relatives of the deceased, plain, honest, hardy121 people, typical as much of the simplicity122 of our institutions as of Mr. Lincoln's self-made eminence123. No blood relatives of Mr. Lincoln were to be found. It is a singular evidence of the poverty of his origin, and therefore of his exceeding good report, that, excepting his immediate124 family, none answering to his name could be discovered. Mrs. Lincoln's relatives were present, however, in some force. Dr. Lyman Beecher Todd, General John B. S. Todd, C. M. Smith, Esq., and Mr. N. W. Edwards, the late President's brother-in-law, plain, self-made people were here and were sincerely affected125. Captain Robert Lincoln sat during the services with his face in his handkerchief weeping quietly, and little Tad his face red and heated, cried as if his heart would break. Mrs. Lincoln, weak, worn, and nervous, did not enter the East room nor follow the remains. She was the chief magistrate's lady yesterday; to-day a widow bearing only an immortal75 name. Among the neighbors of the late President, who came from afar to pay respect to his remains, was one old gentleman who left Richmond on Sunday. I had been upon the boat with him and heard him in hot wrangle126 with some officers who advised the summary execution of all rebel leaders. This the old man opposed, when the feeling against him became so intense that he was compelled to retire. He counselled mercy, good faith, and forgiveness. To-day, the men who had called him a traitor127, saw him among the family mourners, bent128 with grief. All these are waiting in solemn lines, standing129 erect130, with a space of several feet between them and the coffin, and there is no bustle131 nor unseemly curiosity, not a whisper, not a footfall—only the collected nation looking with awed132 hearts upon eminent133 death.
This scene is historic. I regret that I must tell you of it over a little wire, for it admits of all exemplification. In this high, spacious, elegant apartment, laughter and levee, social pleasantry and refined badinage134, had often held their session. Dancing and music had made those mirrors thrill which now reflect a pall, and where the most beautiful women of their day had mingled135 here with men of brilliant favor, now only a very few, brave enough to look upon death, were wearing funeral weeds. The pleasant face of Mrs. Kate Sprague looks out from these; but such scenes gain little additional power by beauty's presence. And this wonderful relief was carved at one blow by John Wilkes Booth.
The religious services began at noon. They were remarkable not only for their association with the national event, but for a tremendous political energy which they had. While none of the prayers or speeches exhibited great literary carefulness, or will obtain perpetuity on their own merits, they were full of feeling and expressed all the intense concern of the country.
The procession surpassed in sentiment, populousness136, and sincere good feeling, anything of the kind we have had in America. It was several miles long, and in all its elements was full and tasteful. The scene on the avenue will be alway remembered as the only occasion on which that great thoroughfare was a real adornment137 to the seat of government. In the tree tops, on the house tops, at all the windows, the silent and affected crowds clustered beneath half-mast banners and waving crape, to reverentially uncover as the dark vehicle, bearing its rich silver-mounted coffin, swept along; mottoes of respect and homage138 were on many edifices139, and singularly some of them were taken from the play of Richard III., which was the murderer's favorite part The entire width of the avenue was swept, from curb140 to curb, by the deep lines.
The chief excellence141 of this procession was its representative nature. All classes, localities and trades were out. As the troops in broad, straight columns, with reversed muskets142, moved to solemn marches, all the guns on the fortifications on the surrounding hills discharged hoarse143 salutes—guns which the arbiter144 of war whom they were to honor could hear no longer. Every business place was closed. Sabermen swept the street of footmen and horsemen. The carriages drove two abreast145.
Not less than five thousand officers, of every rank, marched abreast with the cortege. They were noble looking men with intelligent faces, and represented the sinews of the land, and the music was not the least excellent feature of the mournful display. About thirty bands were in the line, and these played all varieties of solemn marches, so that there were continual and mingling146 strains of funeral music for more than three hours. Artillery147, consisting of heavy brass148 pieces, followed behind. In fact, all the citizen virtues149 and all the military enterprise of the country were evidenced. Never again, until Washington becomes in fact what it is in name, the chief city of America, shall we have a scene like this repeated—the grandest procession ever seen on this continent, spontaneously evoked150 to celebrate the foulest151 crime on record. If any feeling of gratulation could arise in so calamitous152 a time, it would be, that so soon after this appalling153 calamity154 the nation calmly and collectedly rallied about its succeeding rulers, and showed in the same moment its regret for the past and its resolution for the future. To me, the scene in the White House, the street, and the capitol to-day, was the strongest evidence the war afforded of the stability of our institutions, and the worthiness155 and magnanimous power of our people.
The cortege passed to the left side of the Capitol, and entering the great gates, passed to the grand stairway, opposite the splendid dome156, where the coffin was disengaged and carried up the ascent157. It was posted under the bright concave, now streaked158 with mournful trappings, and left in state, watched by guards of officers with drawn swords. This was a wonderful spectacle, the man most beloved and honored in the ark of the republic. The storied paintings representing eras in its history were draped in sable159, through which they seemed to cast reverential glances upon the lamented160 bier. The thrilling scenes depicted161 by Trumbull, the commemorative canvases of Leutze, the wilderness162 vegetation of Powell, glared from their separate pedestals upon the central spot where lay the fallen majesty163 of the country. Here the prayers and addresses of the noon were rehearsed and the solemn burial service read. At night the jets of gas concealed164 in the spring of the dome were lighted up, so that their bright reflection masses of burning light, like marvelous haloes, upon the little box where so much that we love and honor rested on its way to the grave. And so through the starry165 night, in the fane of the great union he had strengthened and recovered, the ashes of Abraham Lincoln, zealously166 guarded, are now reposing167. The sage168, the citizen, the patriot169, the man, has reached all the eminence that life can give the worthy or the ambitious. The hunted fugitive170 who struck through our hearts to slay171 him, should stand beside his stately bier to see how powerless are bullets and blades to take the real life of any noble man!
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transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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depots
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| 仓库( depot的名词复数 )； 火车站； 车库； 军需库 | |
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attainable
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| a.可达到的，可获得的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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contractors
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| n.（建筑、监造中的）承包人( contractor的名词复数 ) | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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treasury
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| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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applicants
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| 申请人，求职人( applicant的名词复数 ) | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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funereal
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| adj.悲哀的；送葬的 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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frescoed
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| 壁画( fresco的名词复数 )； 温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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chastely
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| adv.贞洁地，清高地，纯正地 | |
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margined
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| [医]具边的 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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canopied
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| adj. 遮有天篷的 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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53
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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54
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
interred
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| v.埋，葬( inter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
jugular
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| n.颈静脉 | |
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57
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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58
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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59
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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60
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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61
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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62
effigy
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| n.肖像 | |
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63
sentient
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| adj.有知觉的，知悉的；adv.有感觉能力地 | |
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64
reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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65
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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66
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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67
mirages
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景( mirage的名词复数 ) | |
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68
vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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69
palls
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| n.柩衣( pall的名词复数 )；墓衣；棺罩；深色或厚重的覆盖物v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的第三人称单数 ) | |
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70
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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71
serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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72
zephyrs
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| n.和风，微风( zephyr的名词复数 ) | |
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73
waft
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| v.飘浮，飘荡；n.一股；一阵微风；飘荡 | |
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74
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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75
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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76
magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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77
bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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78
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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79
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
denomination
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| n.命名，取名，(度量衡、货币等的)单位 | |
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81
wrangling
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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82
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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83
corporate
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| adj.共同的，全体的；公司的，企业的 | |
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84
zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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85
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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86
assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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87
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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88
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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89
augur
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| n.占卦师；v.占卦 | |
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90
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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91
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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92
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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93
luster
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| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
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94
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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95
constellation
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| n.星座n.灿烂的一群 | |
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96
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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97
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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98
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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99
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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100
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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101
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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102
depiction
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| n.描述 | |
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103
wince
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| n.畏缩，退避，（因痛苦，苦恼等)面部肌肉抽动；v.畏缩，退缩，退避 | |
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104
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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105
overloaded
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| a.超载的，超负荷的 | |
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106
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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107
envoy
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| n.使节，使者，代表，公使 | |
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108
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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109
territorial
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| adj.领土的，领地的 | |
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110
disparagingly
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| adv.以贬抑的口吻，以轻视的态度 | |
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111
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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112
perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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113
plethoric
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| adj.过多的，多血症的 | |
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114
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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115
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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116
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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117
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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118
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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119
toils
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| 网 | |
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120
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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121
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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122
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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123
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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124
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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125
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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126
wrangle
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| vi.争吵 | |
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127
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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128
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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129
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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130
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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131
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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132
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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134
badinage
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| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
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135
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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136
populousness
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| 人口稠密 | |
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137
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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138
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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139
edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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140
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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141
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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142
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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143
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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144
arbiter
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| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
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145
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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146
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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147
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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148
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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149
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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150
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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151
foulest
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| adj.恶劣的( foul的最高级 )；邪恶的；难闻的；下流的 | |
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152
calamitous
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| adj.灾难的，悲惨的；多灾多难；惨重 | |
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153
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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154
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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155
worthiness
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| 价值，值得 | |
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156
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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157
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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158
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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159
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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160
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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161
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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162
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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163
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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164
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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165
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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166
zealously
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| adv.热心地；热情地；积极地；狂热地 | |
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167
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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168
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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169
patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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170
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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171
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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