It is now partly possible to justify1 the Shavian method of putting the explanations before the events. I can now give a fact or two with a partial certainty at least that the reader will give to the affairs of Bernard Shaw something of the same kind of significance which they have for Bernard Shaw himself. Thus, if I had simply said that Shaw was born in Dublin the average reader might exclaim, “Ah yes—a wild Irishman, gay, emotional and untrustworthy.” The wrong note would be struck at the start. I have attempted to give some idea of what being born in Ireland meant to the man who was really born there. Now therefore for the first time I may be permitted to confess that Bernard Shaw was, like other men, born. He was born in Dublin on the 26th of July, 1856.
Just as his birth can only be appreciated through some vision of Ireland, so his family can only be appreciated by some realisation of the Puritan. He was the youngest son of one George Carr Shaw, who had been a civil servant and was afterwards a somewhat unsuccessful business man. If I had merely said that his family was Protestant (which in Ireland means Puritan) it might have been passed over as a quite colourless detail. But if the reader will keep in mind what has been said about the degeneration of Calvinism into a few clumsy vetoes, he will see in its full and frightful4 significance such a sentence as this which comes from Shaw himself: “My father was in theory a vehement5 teetotaler, but in practice often a furtive6 drinker.” The two things of course rest upon exactly the same philosophy; the philosophy of the taboo7. There is a mystical substance, and it can give monstrous8 pleasures or call down monstrous punishments. The dipsomaniac and the abstainer9 are not only both mistaken, but they both make the same mistake. They both regard wine as a drug and not as a drink. But if I had mentioned that fragment of family information without any ethical10 preface, people would have begun at once to talk nonsense about artistic11 heredity and Celtic weakness, and would have gained the general impression that Bernard Shaw was an Irish wastrel12 and the child of Irish wastrels13. Whereas it is the whole point of the matter that Bernard Shaw comes of a Puritan middle-class family of the most solid respectability; and the only admission of error arises from the fact that one member of that Puritan family took a particularly Puritan view of strong drink. That is, he regarded it generally as a poison and sometimes as a medicine, if only a mental medicine. But a poison and a medicine are very closely akin14, as the nearest chemist knows; and they are chiefly akin in this; that no one will drink either of them for fun. Moreover, medicine and a poison are also alike in this; that no one will by preference drink either of them in public. And this medical or poisonous view of alcohol is not confined to the one Puritan to whose failure I have referred, it is spread all over the whole of our dying Puritan civilisation16. For instance, social reformers have fired a hundred shots against the public-house; but never one against its really shameful17 feature. The sign of decay is not in the public-house, but in the private bar; or rather the row of five or six private bars, into each of which a respectable dipsomaniac can go in solitude18, and by indulging his own half-witted sin violate his own half-witted morality. Nearly all these places are equipped with an atrocious apparatus19 of ground-glass windows which can be so closed that they practically conceal20 the face of the buyer from the seller. Words cannot express the abysses of human infamy21 and hateful shame expressed by that elaborate piece of furniture. Whenever I go into a public-house, which happens fairly often, I always carefully open all these apertures23 and then leave the place, in every way refreshed.
In other ways also it is necessary to insist not only on the fact of an extreme Protestantism, but on that of the Protestantism of a garrison24; a world where that religious force both grew and festered all the more for being at once isolated25 and protected. All the influences surrounding Bernard Shaw in boyhood were not only Puritan, but such that no non-Puritan force could possibly pierce or counteract26. He belonged to that Irish group which, according to Catholicism, has hardened its heart, which, according to Protestantism has hardened its head, but which, as I fancy, has chiefly hardened its hide, lost its sensibility to the contact of the things around it. In reading about his youth, one forgets that it was passed in the island which is still one flame before the altar of St. Peter and St. Patrick. The whole thing might be happening in Wimbledon. He went to the Wesleyan Connexional School. He went to hear Moody27 and Sankey. “I was,” he writes, “wholly unmoved by their eloquence28; and felt bound to inform the public that I was, on the whole, an atheist29. My letter was solemnly printed in Public Opinion, to the extreme horror of my numerous aunts and uncles.” That is the philosophical30 atmosphere; those are the religious postulates31. It could never cross the mind of a man of the Garrison that before becoming an atheist he might stroll into one of the churches of his own country, and learn something of the philosophy that had satisfied Dante and Bossuet, Pascal and Descartes.
In the same way I have to appeal to my theoretic preface at this third point of the drama of Shaw’s career. On leaving school he stepped into a secure business position which he held steadily32 for four years and which he flung away almost in one day. He rushed even recklessly to London; where he was quite unsuccessful and practically starved for six years. If I had mentioned this act on the first page of this book it would have seemed to have either the simplicity33 of a mere3 fanatic34 or else to cover some ugly escapade of youth or some quite criminal looseness of temperament35. But Bernard Shaw did not act thus because he was careless, but because he was ferociously36 careful, careful especially of the one thing needful. What was he thinking about when he threw away his last halfpence and went to a strange place; what was he thinking about when he endured hunger and small-pox in London almost without hope? He was thinking of what he has ever since thought of, the slow but sure surge of the social revolution; you must read into all those bald sentences and empty years what I shall attempt to sketch38 in the third section. You must read the revolutionary movement of the later nineteenth century, darkened indeed by materialism39 and made mutable by fear and free thought, but full of awful vistas40 of an escape from the curse of Adam.
Bernard Shaw happened to be born in an epoch41, or rather at the end of an epoch, which was in its way unique in the ages of history. The nineteenth century was not unique in the success or rapidity of its reforms or in their ultimate cessation; but it was unique in the peculiar42 character of the failure which followed the success. The French Revolution was an enormous act of human realisation; it has altered the terms of every law and the shape of every town in Europe; but it was by no means the only example of a strong and swift period of reform. What was really peculiar about the Republican energy was this, that it left behind it, not an ordinary reaction but a kind of dreary43, drawn44 out and utterly45 unmeaning hope. The strong and evident idea of reform sank lower and lower until it became the timid and feeble idea of progress. Towards the end of the nineteenth century there appeared its two incredible figures; they were the pure Conservative and the pure Progressive; two figures which would have been overwhelmed with laughter by any other intellectual commonwealth46 of history. There was hardly a human generation which could not have seen the folly47 of merely going forward or merely standing48 still; of mere progressing or mere conserving49. In the coarsest Greek Comedy we might have a joke about a man who wanted to keep what he had, whether it was yellow gold or yellow fever. In the dullest medi?val morality we might have a joke about a progressive gentleman who, having passed heaven and come to purgatory50, decided51 to go further and fare worse. The twelfth and thirteenth centuries were an age of quite impetuous progress; men made in one rush, roads, trades, synthetic52 philosophies, parliaments, university settlements, a law that could cover the world and such spires53 as had never struck the sky. But they would not have said that they wanted progress, but that they wanted the road, the parliaments, and the spires. In the same way the time from Richelieu to the Revolution was upon the whole a time of conservation, often of harsh and hideous54 conservation; it preserved tortures, legal quibbles, and despotism. But if you had asked the rulers they would not have said that they wanted conservation; but that they wanted the torture and the despotism. The old reformers and the old despots alike desired definite things, powers, licenses55, payments, vetoes, and permissions. Only the modern progressive and the modern conservative have been content with two words.
Other periods of active improvement have died by stiffening56 at last into some routine. Thus the Gothic gaiety of the thirteenth century stiffening into the mere Gothic ugliness of the fifteenth. Thus the mighty57 wave of the Renaissance58, whose crest59 was lifted to heaven, was touched by a wintry witchery of classicism and frozen for ever before it fell. Alone of all such movements the democratic movement of the last two centuries has not frozen, but loosened and liquefied. Instead of becoming more pedantic61 in its old age, it has grown more bewildered. By the analogy of healthy history we ought to have gone on worshipping the republic and calling each other citizen with increasing seriousness until some other part of the truth broke into our republican temple. But in fact we have turned the freedom of democracy into a mere scepticism, destructive of everything, including democracy itself. It is none the less destructive because it is, so to speak, an optimistic scepticism—or, as I have said, a dreary hope. It was none the better because the destroyers were always talking about the new vistas and enlightenments which their new negations opened to us. The republican temple, like any other strong building, rested on certain definite limits and supports. But the modern man inside it went on indefinitely knocking holes in his own house and saying that they were windows. The result is not hard to calculate: the moral world was pretty well all windows and no house by the time that Bernard Shaw arrived on the scene.
Then there entered into full swing that great game of which he soon became the greatest master. A progressive or advanced person was now to mean not a man who wanted democracy, but a man who wanted something newer than democracy. A reformer was to be, not a man who wanted a parliament or a republic, but a man who wanted anything that he hadn’t got. The emancipated62 man must cast a weird63 and suspicious eye round him at all the institutions of the world, wondering which of them was destined64 to die in the next few centuries. Each one of them was whispering to himself, “What can I alter?”
This quite vague and varied65 discontent probably did lead to the revelation of many incidental wrongs and to much humane66 hard work in certain holes and corners. It also gave birth to a great deal of quite futile67 and frantic68 speculation69, which seemed destined to take away babies from women, or to give votes to tom-cats. But it had an evil in it much deeper and more psychologically poisonous than any superficial absurdities70. There was in this thirst to be “progressive” a subtle sort of double-mindedness and falsity. A man was so eager to be in advance of his age that he pretended to be in advance of himself. Institutions that his wholesome71 nature and habit fully22 accepted he had to sneer72 at as old-fashioned, out of a servile and snobbish74 fear of the future. Out of the primal75 forests, through all the real progress of history, man had picked his way obeying his human instinct, or (in the excellent phrase) following his nose. But now he was trying, by violent athletic76 exertions77, to get in front of his nose.
Into this riot of all imaginary innovations Shaw brought the sharp edge of the Irishman and the concentration of the Puritan, and thoroughly78 thrashed all competitors in the difficult art of being at once modern and intelligent. In twenty twopenny controversies79 he took the revolutionary side, I fear in most cases because it was called revolutionary. But the other revolutionists were abruptly80 startled by the presentation of quite rational and ingenious arguments on their own side. The dreary thing about most new causes is that they are praised in such very old terms. Every new religion bores us with the same stale rhetoric81 about closer fellowship and the higher life. No one ever approximately equalled Bernard Shaw in the power of finding really fresh and personal arguments for these recent schemes and creeds82. No one ever came within a mile of him in the knack83 of actually producing a new argument for a new philosophy. I give two instances to cover the kind of thing I mean. Bernard Shaw (being honestly eager to put himself on the modern side in everything) put himself on the side of what is called the feminist84 movement; the proposal to give the two sexes not merely equal social privileges, but identical. To this it is often answered that women cannot be soldiers; and to this again the sensible feminists85 answer that women run their own kind of physical risk, while the silly feminists answer that war is an outworn barbaric thing which women would abolish. But Bernard Shaw took the line of saying that women had been soldiers, in all occasions of natural and unofficial war, as in the French Revolution. That has the great fighting value of being an unexpected argument; it takes the other pugilist’s breath away for one important instant. To take the other case, Mr. Shaw has found himself, led by the same mad imp2 of modernity, on the side of the people who want to have phonetic86 spelling. The people who want phonetic spelling generally depress the world with tireless and tasteless explanations of how much easier it would be for children or foreign bagmen if “height” were spelt “hite.” Now children would curse spelling whatever it was, and we are not going to permit foreign bagmen to improve Shakespeare. Bernard Shaw charged along quite a different line; he urged that Shakespeare himself believed in phonetic spelling, since he spelt his own name in six different ways. According to Shaw, phonetic spelling is merely a return to the freedom and flexibility88 of Elizabethan literature. That, again, is exactly the kind of blow the old speller does not expect. As a matter of fact there is an answer to both the ingenuities89 I have quoted. When women have fought in revolutions they have generally shown that it was not natural to them, by their hysterical90 cruelty and insolence91; it was the men who fought in the Revolution; it was the women who tortured the prisoners and mutilated the dead. And because Shakespeare could sing better than he could spell, it does not follow that his spelling and ours ought to be abruptly altered by a race that has lost all instinct for singing. But I do not wish to discuss these points; I only quote them as examples of the startling ability which really brought Shaw to the front; the ability to brighten even our modern movements with original and suggestive thoughts.
But while Bernard Shaw pleasantly surprised innumerable cranks and revolutionists by finding quite rational arguments for them, he surprised them unpleasantly also by discovering something else. He discovered a turn of argument or trick of thought which has ever since been the plague of their lives, and given him in all assemblies of their kind, in the Fabian Society or in the whole Socialist92 movement, a fantastic but most formidable domination. This method may be approximately defined as that of revolutionising the revolutionists by turning their rationalism against their remaining sentimentalism. But definition leaves the matter dark unless we give one or two examples. Thus Bernard Shaw threw himself as thoroughly as any New Woman into the cause of the emancipation94 of women. But while the New Woman praised woman as a prophetess, the new man took the opportunity to curse her and kick her as a comrade. For the others sex equality meant the emancipation of women, which allowed them to be equal to men. For Shaw it mainly meant the emancipation of men, which allowed them to be rude to women. Indeed, almost every one of Bernard Shaw’s earlier plays might be called an argument between a man and a woman, in which the woman is thumped95 and thrashed and outwitted until she admits that she is the equal of her conqueror96. This is the first case of the Shavian trick of turning on the romantic rationalists with their own rationalism. He said in substance, “If we are democrats97, let us have votes for women; but if we are democrats, why on earth should we have respect for women?” I take one other example out of many. Bernard Shaw was thrown early into what may be called the cosmopolitan98 club of revolution. The Socialists99 of the S.D.F. call it “L’Internationale,” but the club covers more than Socialists. It covers many who consider themselves the champions of oppressed nationalities—Poland, Finland, and even Ireland; and thus a strong nationalist tendency exists in the revolutionary movement. Against this nationalist tendency Shaw set himself with sudden violence. If the flag of England was a piece of piratical humbug100, was not the flag of Poland a piece of piratical humbug too? If we hated the jingoism101 of the existing armies and frontiers, why should we bring into existence new jingo armies and new jingo frontiers? All the other revolutionists fell in instinctively102 with Home Rule for Ireland. Shaw urged, in effect, that Home Rule was as bad as Home Influences and Home Cooking, and all the other degrading domesticities that began with the word “Home.” His ultimate support of the South African war was largely created by his irritation103 against the other revolutionists for favouring a nationalist resistance. The ordinary Imperialists objected to Pro–Boers because they were anti-patriots. Bernard Shaw objected to Pro–Boers because they were propatriots.
But among these surprise attacks of G. B. S., these turnings of scepticism against the sceptics, there was one which has figured largely in his life; the most amusing and perhaps the most salutary of all these reactions. The “progressive” world being in revolt against religion had naturally felt itself allied104 to science; and against the authority of priests it would perpetually hurl105 the authority of scientific men. Shaw gazed for a few moments at this new authority, the veiled god of Huxley and Tyndall, and then with the greatest placidity106 and precision kicked it in the stomach. He declared to the astounded107 progressives around him that physical science was a mystical fake like sacerdotalism; that scientists, like priests, spoke108 with authority because they could not speak with proof or reason; that the very wonders of science were mostly lies, like the wonders of religion. “When astronomers109 tell me,” he says somewhere, “that a star is so far off that its light takes a thousand years to reach us, the magnitude of the lie seems to me inartistic.” The paralysing impudence110 of such remarks left everyone quite breathless; and even to this day this particular part of Shaw’s satiric111 war has been far less followed up than it deserves. For there was present in it an element very marked in Shaw’s controversies; I mean that his apparent exaggerations are generally much better backed up by knowledge than would appear from their nature. He can lure15 his enemy on with fantasies and then overwhelm him with facts. Thus the man of science, when he read some wild passage in which Shaw compared Huxley to a tribal113 soothsayer grubbing in the entrails of animals, supposed the writer to be a mere fantastic whom science could crush with one finger. He would therefore engage in a controversy114 with Shaw about (let us say) vivisection, and discover to his horror that Shaw really knew a great deal about the subject, and could pelt87 him with expert witnesses and hospital reports. Among the many singular contradictions in a singular character, there is none more interesting than this combination of exactitude and industry in the detail of opinions with audacity115 and a certain wildness in their outline.
This great game of catching116 revolutionists napping, of catching the unconventional people in conventional poses, of outmarching and outmanoeuvring progressives till they felt like conservatives, of undermining the mines of Nihilists till they felt like the House of Lords, this great game of dishing the anarchists117 continued for some time to be his most effective business. It would be untrue to say that he was a cynic; he was never a cynic, for that implies a certain corrupt118 fatigue119 about human affairs, whereas he was vibrating with virtue120 and energy. Nor would it be fair to call him even a sceptic, for that implies a dogma of hopelessness and definite belief in unbelief. But it would be strictly121 just to describe him at this time, at any rate, as a merely destructive person. He was one whose main business was, in his own view, the pricking122 of illusions, the stripping away of disguises, and even the destruction of ideals. He was a sort of anti-confectioner whose whole business it was to take the gilt123 off the gingerbread.
Now I have no particular objection to people who take the gilt off the gingerbread; if only for this excellent reason, that I am much fonder of gingerbread than I am of gilt. But there are some objections to this task when it becomes a crusade or an obsession124. One of them is this: that people who have really scraped the gilt off gingerbread generally waste the rest of their lives in attempting to scrape the gilt off gigantic lumps of gold. Such has too often been the case of Shaw. He can, if he likes, scrape the romance off the armaments of Europe or the party system of Great Britain. But he cannot scrape the romance off love or military valour, because it is all romance, and three thousand miles thick. It cannot, I think, be denied that much of Bernard Shaw’s splendid mental energy has been wasted in this weary business of gnawing125 at the necessary pillars of all possible society. But it would be grossly unfair to indicate that even in his first and most destructive stage he uttered nothing except these accidental, if arresting, negations. He threw his whole genius heavily into the scale in favour of two positive projects or causes of the period. When we have stated these we have really stated the full intellectual equipment with which he started his literary life.
I have said that Shaw was on the insurgent126 side in everything; but in the case of these two important convictions he exercised a solid power of choice. When he first went to London he mixed with every kind of revolutionary society, and met every kind of person except the ordinary person. He knew everybody, so to speak, except everybody. He was more than once a momentary127 apparition128 among the respectable atheists. He knew Bradlaugh and spoke on the platforms of that Hall of Science in which very simple and sincere masses of men used to hail with shouts of joy the assurance that they were not immortal129. He retains to this day something of the noise and narrowness of that room; as, for instance, when he says that it is contemptible130 to have a craving131 for eternal life. This prejudice remains132 in direct opposition133 to all his present opinions, which are all to the effect that it is glorious to desire power, consciousness, and vitality134 even for one’s self. But this old secularist135 tag, that it is selfish to save one’s soul, remains with him long after he has practically glorified136 selfishness. It is a relic137 of those chaotic138 early days. And just as he mingled139 with the atheists he mingled with the anarchists, who were in the eighties a much more formidable body than now, disputing with the Socialists on almost equal terms the claim to be the true heirs of the Revolution. Shaw still talks entertainingly about this group. As far as I can make out, it was almost entirely140 female. When a book came out called A Girl among the Anarchists, G. B. S. was provoked to a sort of explosive reminiscence. “A girl among the anarchists!” he exclaimed to his present biographer; “if they had said ‘A man among the anarchists’ it would have been more of an adventure.” He is ready to tell other tales of this eccentric environment, most of which does not convey an impression of a very bracing141 atmosphere. That revolutionary society must have contained many high public ideals, but also a fair number of low private desires. And when people blame Bernard Shaw for his pitiless and prosaic142 coldness, his cutting refusal to reverence143 or admire, I think they should remember this riff-raff of lawless sentimentalism against which his commonsense144 had to strive, all the grandiloquent145 “comrades” and all the gushing146 “affinities,” all the sweetstuff sensuality and senseless sulking against law. If Bernard Shaw became a little too fond of throwing cold water upon prophecies or ideals, remember that he must have passed much of his youth among cosmopolitan idealists who wanted a little cold water in every sense of the word.
Upon two of these modern crusades he concentrated, and, as I have said, he chose them well. The first was broadly what was called the Humanitarian147 cause. It did not mean the cause of humanity, but rather, if anything, the cause of everything else. At its noblest it meant a sort of mystical identification of our life with the whole life of nature. So a man might wince148 when a snail149 was crushed as if his toe were trodden on; so a man might shrink when a moth150 shrivelled as if his own hair had caught fire. Man might be a network of exquisite151 nerves running over the whole universe, a subtle spider’s web of pity. This was a fine conception; though perhaps a somewhat severe enforcement of the theological conception of the special divinity of man. For the humanitarians152 certainly asked of humanity what can be asked of no other creature; no man ever required a dog to understand a cat or expected the cow to cry for the sorrows of the nightingale.
Hence this sense has been strongest in saints of a very mystical sort; such as St. Francis who spoke of Sister Sparrow and Brother Wolf. Shaw adopted this crusade of cosmic pity but adopted it very much in his own style, severe, explanatory, and even unsympathetic. He had no affectionate impulse to say “Brother Wolf”; at the best he would have said “Citizen Wolf,” like a sound republican. In fact, he was full of healthy human compassion153 for the sufferings of animals; but in phraseology he loved to put the matter unemotionally and even harshly. I was once at a debating club at which Bernard Shaw said that he was not a humanitarian at all, but only an economist154, that he merely hated to see life wasted by carelessness or cruelty. I felt inclined to get up and address to him the following lucid155 question: “If when you spare a herring you are only being oikonomikal, for what oikos are you being nomikal?” But in an average debating club I thought this question might not be quite clear; so I abandoned the idea. But certainly it is not plain for whom Bernard Shaw is economising if he rescues a rhinoceros156 from an early grave. But the truth is that Shaw only took this economic pose from his hatred157 of appearing sentimental93. If Bernard Shaw killed a dragon and rescued a princess of romance, he would try to say “I have saved a princess” with exactly the same intonation158 as “I have saved a shilling.” He tries to turn his own heroism159 into a sort of superhuman thrift160. He would thoroughly sympathise with that passage in his favourite dramatic author in which the Button Moulder161 tells Peer Gynt that there is a sort of cosmic housekeeping; that God Himself is very economical, “and that is why He is so well to do.”
This combination of the widest kindness and consideration with a consistent ungraciousness of tone runs through all Shaw’s ethical utterance162, and is nowhere more evident than in his attitude towards animals. He would waste himself to a white-haired shadow to save a shark in an aquarium163 from inconvenience or to add any little comforts to the life of a carrion-crow. He would defy any laws or lose any friends to show mercy to the humblest beast or the most hidden bird. Yet I cannot recall in the whole of his works or in the whole of his conversation a single word of any tenderness or intimacy164 with any bird or beast. It was under the influence of this high and almost superhuman sense of duty that he became a vegetarian165; and I seem to remember that when he was lying sick and near to death at the end of his Saturday Review career he wrote a fine fantastic article, declaring that his hearse ought to be drawn by all the animals that he had not eaten. Whenever that evil day comes there will be no need to fall back on the ranks of the brute166 creation; there will be no lack of men and women who owe him so much as to be glad to take the place of the animals; and the present writer for one will be glad to express his gratitude167 as an elephant. There is no doubt about the essential manhood and decency168 of Bernard Shaw’s instincts in such matters. And quite apart from the vegetarian controversy, I do not doubt that the beasts also owe him much. But when we come to positive things (and passions are the only truly positive things) that obstinate169 doubt remains which remains after all eulogies170 of Shaw. That fixed171 fancy sticks to the mind; that Bernard Shaw is a vegetarian more because he dislikes dead beasts than because he likes live ones.
It was the same with the other great cause to which Shaw more politically though not more publicly committed himself. The actual English people, without representation in Press or Parliament, but faintly expressed in public-houses and music-halls, would connect Shaw (so far as they have heard of him) with two ideas; they would say first that he was a vegetarian, and second that he was a Socialist. Like most of the impressions of the ignorant, these impressions would be on the whole very just. My only purpose here is to urge that Shaw’s Socialism exemplifies the same trait of temperament as his vegetarianism172. This book is not concerned with Bernard Shaw as a politician or a sociologist173, but as a critic and creator of drama. I will therefore end in this chapter all that I have to say about Bernard Shaw as a politician or a political philosopher. I propose here to dismiss this aspect of Shaw: only let it be remembered, once and for all, that I am here dismissing the most important aspect of Shaw. It is as if one dismissed the sculpture of Michael Angelo and went on to his sonnets174. Perhaps the highest and purest thing in him is simply that he cares more for politics than for anything else; more than for art or for philosophy. Socialism is the noblest thing for Bernard Shaw; and it is the noblest thing in him. He really desires less to win fame than to bear fruit. He is an absolute follower175 of that early sage112 who wished only to make two blades of grass grow instead of one. He is a loyal subject of Henri Quatre, who said that he only wanted every Frenchman to have a chicken in his pot on Sunday; except, of course, that he would call the repast cannibalism176. But c?teris paribus he thinks more of that chicken than of the eagle of the universal empire; and he is always ready to support the grass against the laurel.
Yet by the nature of this book the account of the most important Shaw, who is the Socialist, must be also the most brief. Socialism (which I am not here concerned either to attack or defend) is, as everyone knows, the proposal that all property should be nationally owned that it may be more decently distributed. It is a proposal resting upon two principles, unimpeachable177 as far as they go: first, that frightful human calamities178 call for immediate179 human aid; second, that such aid must almost always be collectively organised. If a ship is being wrecked181, we organise180 a lifeboat; if a house is on fire, we organise a blanket; if half a nation is starving, we must organise work and food. That is the primary and powerful argument of the Socialist, and everything that he adds to it weakens it. The only possible line of protest is to suggest that it is rather shocking that we have to treat a normal nation as something exceptional, like a house on fire or a shipwreck182. But of such things it may be necessary to speak later. The point here is that Shaw behaved towards Socialism just as he behaved towards vegetarianism; he offered every reason except the emotional reason, which was the real one. When taxed in a Daily News discussion with being a Socialist for the obvious reason that poverty was cruel, he said this was quite wrong; it was only because poverty was wasteful183. He practically professed184 that modern society annoyed him, not so much like an unrighteous kingdom, but rather like an untidy room. Everyone who knew him knew, of course, that he was full of a proper brotherly bitterness about the oppression of the poor. But here again he would not admit that he was anything but an Economist.
In thus setting his face like flint against sentimental methods of argument he undoubtedly185 did one great service to the causes for which he stood. Every vulgar anti-humanitarian, every snob73 who wants monkeys vivisected or beggars flogged has always fallen back upon stereotyped186 phrases like “maudlin” and “sentimental,” which indicated the humanitarian as a man in a weak condition of tears. The mere personality of Shaw has shattered those foolish phrases for ever. Shaw the humanitarian was like Voltaire the humanitarian, a man whose satire187 was like steel, the hardest and coolest of fighters, upon whose piercing point the wretched defenders188 of a masculine brutality189 wriggled190 like worms.
In this quarrel one cannot wish Shaw even an inch less contemptuous, for the people who call compassion “sentimentalism” deserve nothing but contempt. In this one does not even regret his coldness; it is an honourable191 contrast to the blundering emotionalism of the jingoes and flagellomaniacs. The truth is that the ordinary anti-humanitarian only manages to harden his heart by having already softened192 his head. It is the reverse of sentimental to insist that a nigger is being burned alive; for sentimentalism must be the clinging to pleasant thoughts. And no one, not even a Higher Evolutionist, can think a nigger burned alive a pleasant thought. The sentimental thing is to warm your hands at the fire while denying the existence of the nigger, and that is the ruling habit in England, as it has been the chief business of Bernard Shaw to show. And in this the brutalitarians hate him not because he is soft, but because he is hard, because he is not to be softened by conventional excuses; because he looks hard at a thing—and hits harder. Some foolish fellow of the Henley–Whibley reaction wrote that if we were to be conquerors193 we must be less tender and more ruthless. Shaw answered with really avenging194 irony195, “What a light this principle throws on the defeat of the tender Dervish, the compassionate196 Zulu, and the morbidly197 humane Boxer198 at the hands of the hardy199 savages200 of England, France, and Germany.” In that sentence an idiot is obliterated201 and the whole story of Europe told; but it is immensely stiffened202 by its ironic203 form. In the same way Shaw washed away for ever the idea that Socialists were weak dreamers, who said that things might be only because they wished them to be. G. B. S. in argument with an individualist showed himself, as a rule, much the better economist and much the worse rhetorician. In this atmosphere arose a celebrated204 Fabian Society, of which he is still the leading spirit—a society which answered all charges of impracticable idealism by pushing both its theoretic statements and its practical negotiations205 to the verge207 of cynicism. Bernard Shaw was the literary expert who wrote most of its pamphlets. In one of them, among such sections as Fabian Temperance Reform, Fabian Education and so on, there was an entry gravely headed “Fabian Natural Science,” which stated that in the Socialist cause light was needed more than heat.
Thus the Irish detachment and the Puritan austerity did much good to the country and to the causes for which they were embattled. But there was one thing they did not do; they did nothing for Shaw himself in the matter of his primary mistakes and his real limitation. His great defect was and is the lack of democratic sentiment. And there was nothing democratic either in his humanitarianism208 or his Socialism. These new and refined faiths tended rather to make the Irishman yet more aristocratic, the Puritan yet more exclusive. To be a Socialist was to look down on all the peasant owners of the earth, especially on the peasant owners of his own island. To be a Vegetarian was to be a man with a strange and mysterious morality, a man who thought the good lord who roasted oxen for his vassals209 only less bad than the bad lord who roasted the vassals. None of these advanced views could the common people hear gladly; nor indeed was Shaw specially37 anxious to please the common people. It was his glory that he pitied animals like men; it was his defect that he pitied men only too much like animals. Foulon said of the democracy, “Let them eat grass.” Shaw said, “Let them eat greens.” He had more benevolence210, but almost as much disdain211. “I have never had any feelings about the English working classes,” he said elsewhere, “except a desire to abolish them and replace them by sensible people.” This is the unsympathetic side of the thing; but it had another and much nobler side, which must at least be seriously recognised before we pass on to much lighter212 things.
Bernard Shaw is not a democrat60; but he is a splendid republican. The nuance213 of difference between those terms precisely214 depicts215 him. And there is after all a good deal of dim democracy in England, in the sense that there is much of a blind sense of brotherhood216, and nowhere more than among old-fashioned and even reactionary217 people. But a republican is a rare bird, and a noble one. Shaw is a republican in the literal and Latin sense; he cares more for the Public Thing than for any private thing. The interest of the State is with him a sincere thirst of the soul, as it was in the little pagan cities. Now this public passion, this clean appetite for order and equity218, had fallen to a lower ebb219, had more nearly disappeared altogether, during Shaw’s earlier epoch than at any other time. Individualism of the worst type was on the top of the wave; I mean artistic individualism, which is so much crueller, so much blinder and so much more irrational220 even than commercial individualism. The decay of society was praised by artists as the decay of a corpse221 is praised by worms. The ?sthete was all receptiveness, like the flea222. His only affair in this world was to feed on its facts and colours, like a parasite223 upon blood. The ego206 was the all; and the praise of it was enunciated224 in madder and madder rhythms by poets whose Helicon was absinthe and whose Pegasus was the nightmare. This diseased pride was not even conscious of a public interest, and would have found all political terms utterly tasteless and insignificant225. It was no longer a question of one man one vote, but of one man one universe.
I have in my time had my fling at the Fabian Society, at the pedantry226 of schemes, the arrogance227 of experts; nor do I regret it now. But when I remember that other world against which it reared its bourgeois228 banner of cleanliness and common sense, I will not end this chapter without doing it decent honour. Give me the drain pipes of the Fabians rather than the panpipes of the later poets; the drain pipes have a nicer smell. Give me even that business-like benevolence that herded229 men like beasts rather than that exquisite art which isolated them like devils; give me even the suppression of “Z?o” rather than the triumph of “Salome.” And if I feel such a confession230 to be due to those Fabians who could hardly have been anything but experts in any society, such as Mr. Sidney Webb or Mr. Edward Pease, it is due yet more strongly to the greatest of the Fabians. Here was a man who could have enjoyed art among the artists, who could have been the wittiest231 of all the flaneurs; who could have made epigrams like diamonds and drunk music like wine. He has instead laboured in a mill of statistics and crammed232 his mind with all the most dreary and the most filthy233 details, so that he can argue on the spur of the moment about sewing-machines or sewage, about typhus fever or twopenny tubes. The usual mean theory of motives234 will not cover the case; it is not ambition, for he could have been twenty times more prominent as a plausible235 and popular humorist. It is the real and ancient emotion of the salus populi, almost extinct in our oligarchical236 chaos237; nor will I for one, as I pass on to many matters of argument or quarrel, neglect to salute238 a passion so implacable and so pure.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
imp
|
|
| n.顽童 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
vehement
|
|
| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
furtive
|
|
| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
taboo
|
|
| n.禁忌，禁止接近，禁止使用；adj.禁忌的；v.禁忌，禁制，禁止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
abstainer
|
|
| 节制者，戒酒者，弃权者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
ethical
|
|
| adj.伦理的，道德的，合乎道德的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
wastrel
|
|
| n.浪费者；废物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
wastrels
|
|
| n.无用的人，废物( wastrel的名词复数 )；浪子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
14
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
lure
|
|
| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
civilisation
|
|
| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
shameful
|
|
| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
apparatus
|
|
| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
infamy
|
|
| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
apertures
|
|
| n.孔( aperture的名词复数 )；隙缝；（照相机的）光圈；孔径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
garrison
|
|
| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
counteract
|
|
| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
moody
|
|
| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
atheist
|
|
| n.无神论者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
philosophical
|
|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
postulates
|
|
| v.假定，假设( postulate的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
fanatic
|
|
| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
ferociously
|
|
| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
materialism
|
|
| n.［哲］唯物主义，唯物论；物质至上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
vistas
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
epoch
|
|
| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
commonwealth
|
|
| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
conserving
|
|
| v.保护，保藏，保存( conserve的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
purgatory
|
|
| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
synthetic
|
|
| adj.合成的，人工的；综合的；n.人工制品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
spires
|
|
| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
licenses
|
|
| n.执照( license的名词复数 )v.批准，许可，颁发执照( license的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
stiffening
|
|
| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
renaissance
|
|
| n.复活，复兴，文艺复兴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
crest
|
|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
democrat
|
|
| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
pedantic
|
|
| adj.卖弄学问的；迂腐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
emancipated
|
|
| adj.被解放的，不受约束的v.解放某人（尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚）( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
humane
|
|
| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
futile
|
|
| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
frantic
|
|
| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
absurdities
|
|
| n.极端无理性( absurdity的名词复数 )；荒谬；谬论；荒谬的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
wholesome
|
|
| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
sneer
|
|
| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
snob
|
|
| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
snobbish
|
|
| adj.势利的，谄上欺下的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
primal
|
|
| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
athletic
|
|
| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
exertions
|
|
| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
controversies
|
|
| 争论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
rhetoric
|
|
| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
creeds
|
|
| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
knack
|
|
| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
feminist
|
|
| adj.主张男女平等的，女权主义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
feminists
|
|
| n.男女平等主义者，女权扩张论者( feminist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
phonetic
|
|
| adj.语言的，语言上的，表示语音的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
pelt
|
|
| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
flexibility
|
|
| n.柔韧性，弹性，（光的）折射性，灵活性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
ingenuities
|
|
| 足智多谋，心灵手巧( ingenuity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
90
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
insolence
|
|
| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
socialist
|
|
| n.社会主义者；adj.社会主义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
emancipation
|
|
| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
thumped
|
|
| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
conqueror
|
|
| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
democrats
|
|
| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
cosmopolitan
|
|
| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
socialists
|
|
| 社会主义者( socialist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
humbug
|
|
| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
jingoism
|
|
| n.极端之爱国主义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
allied
|
|
| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
hurl
|
|
| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
placidity
|
|
| n.平静，安静，温和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
astounded
|
|
| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
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： |
|
|
|
|
109
astronomers
|
|
| n.天文学者，天文学家( astronomer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
impudence
|
|
| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
satiric
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，挖苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
sage
|
|
| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
tribal
|
|
| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
controversy
|
|
| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
anarchists
|
|
| 无政府主义者( anarchist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
corrupt
|
|
| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
pricking
|
|
| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
obsession
|
|
| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
gnawing
|
|
| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
insurgent
|
|
| adj.叛乱的，起事的；n.叛乱分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
apparition
|
|
| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
contemptible
|
|
| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
secularist
|
|
| n.现世主义者，世俗主义者；宗教与教育分离论者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
136
glorified
|
|
| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
relic
|
|
| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
chaotic
|
|
| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
bracing
|
|
| adj.令人振奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
prosaic
|
|
| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
reverence
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
commonsense
|
|
| adj.有常识的；明白事理的；注重实际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
grandiloquent
|
|
| adj.夸张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
gushing
|
|
| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
humanitarian
|
|
| n.人道主义者，博爱者，基督凡人论者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
wince
|
|
| n.畏缩，退避，（因痛苦，苦恼等)面部肌肉抽动；v.畏缩，退缩，退避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
snail
|
|
| n.蜗牛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
moth
|
|
| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
humanitarians
|
|
| n.慈善家( humanitarian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
economist
|
|
| n.经济学家，经济专家，节俭的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
lucid
|
|
| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
rhinoceros
|
|
| n.犀牛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
intonation
|
|
| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
heroism
|
|
| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
thrift
|
|
| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
moulder
|
|
| v.腐朽，崩碎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
aquarium
|
|
| n.水族馆，养鱼池，玻璃缸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
vegetarian
|
|
| n.素食者；adj.素食的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
decency
|
|
| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
eulogies
|
|
| n.颂词，颂文( eulogy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
vegetarianism
|
|
| n.素食，素食主义 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
sociologist
|
|
| n.研究社会学的人，社会学家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
sonnets
|
|
| n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
follower
|
|
| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
cannibalism
|
|
| n.同类相食；吃人肉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
unimpeachable
|
|
| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
organise
|
|
| vt.组织，安排，筹办 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
wrecked
|
|
| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
shipwreck
|
|
| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
wasteful
|
|
| adj.（造成）浪费的，挥霍的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
stereotyped
|
|
| adj.(指形象、思想、人物等)模式化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
satire
|
|
| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
defenders
|
|
| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
brutality
|
|
| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
wriggled
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
conquerors
|
|
| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
avenging
|
|
| adj.报仇的，复仇的v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 )；为…报复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
compassionate
|
|
| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
morbidly
|
|
| adv.病态地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
boxer
|
|
| n.制箱者，拳击手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
hardy
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
savages
|
|
| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
obliterated
|
|
| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
stiffened
|
|
| 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
ironic
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
negotiations
|
|
| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
ego
|
|
| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
humanitarianism
|
|
| n.博爱主义；人道主义；基督凡人论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
vassals
|
|
| n.奴仆( vassal的名词复数 )；（封建时代）诸侯；从属者；下属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
benevolence
|
|
| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
nuance
|
|
| n.(意义、意见、颜色)细微差别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
depicts
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的第三人称单数 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
brotherhood
|
|
| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
reactionary
|
|
| n.反动者，反动主义者；adj.反动的，反动主义的，反对改革的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
equity
|
|
| n.公正，公平，（无固定利息的）股票 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
ebb
|
|
| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
irrational
|
|
| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
flea
|
|
| n.跳蚤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
parasite
|
|
| n.寄生虫；寄生菌；食客 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
enunciated
|
|
| v.（清晰地）发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 )；确切地说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
insignificant
|
|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
pedantry
|
|
| n.迂腐，卖弄学问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
arrogance
|
|
| n.傲慢，自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
bourgeois
|
|
| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
herded
|
|
| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
wittiest
|
|
| 机智的，言辞巧妙的，情趣横生的( witty的最高级 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
crammed
|
|
| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
filthy
|
|
| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
plausible
|
|
| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
oligarchical
|
|
| adj.寡头政治的，主张寡头政治的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
237
chaos
|
|
| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
salute
|
|
| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |