Corporate bodies are more corrupt2 and profligate3 than individuals, because they have more power to do mischief4, and are less amenable5 to disgrace or punishment. They feel neither shame, remorse6, gratitude7, nor goodwill8. The principle of private or natural conscience is extinguished in each individual (we have no moral sense in the breasts of others), and nothing is considered but how the united efforts of the whole (released from idle scruples) may be best directed to the obtaining of political advantages and privileges to be shared as common spoil. Each member reaps the benefit, and lays the blame, if there is any, upon the rest. The esprit de corps9 becomes the ruling passion of every corporate body, compared with which the motives10 of delicacy11 or decorum towards others are looked upon as being both impertinent and improper12. If any person sets up a plea of this sort in opposition13 to the rest, he is overruled, he gets ill-blood, and does no good: he is regarded as an interloper, a black sheep in the flock, and is either sent to Coventry or obliged to acquiesce15 in the notions and wishes of those he associates and is expected to cooperate with. The refinements16 of private judgment17 are referred to and negatived in a committee of the whole body, while the projects and interests of the Corporation meet with a secret but powerful support in the self-love of the different members. Remonstrance18, opposition, is fruitless, troublesome, invidious; it answers no one end; and a conformity19 to the sense of the company is found to be no less necessary to a reputation for good-fellowship than to a quiet life. Self-love and social here look like the same; and in consulting the interests of a particular class, which are also your own, there is even a show of public virtue20. He who is a captious21, impracticable, dissatisfied member of his little club or coterie22 is immediately set down as a bad member of the community in general, as no friend to regularity23 and order, as ‘a pestilent fellow,’ and one who is incapable24 of sympathy, attachment25, or cordial cooperation in any department or undertaking26. Thus the most refractory27 novice28 in such matters becomes weaned from his obligations to the larger society, which only breed him inconvenience without any adequate recompense, and wedded29 to a nearer and dearer one, where he finds every kind of comfort and consolation30. He contracts the vague and unmeaning character of Man into the more emphatic31 title of Freeman and Alderman. The claims of an undefined humanity sit looser and looser upon him, at the same time that he draws the bands of his new engagements closer and tighter about him. He loses sight, by degrees, of all common sense and feeling in the petty squabbles, intrigues32, feuds33, and airs of affected34 importance to which he has made himself an accessory. He is quite an altered man. ‘Really the society were under considerable obligations to him in that last business’; that is to say, in some paltry35 job or underhand attempt to encroach upon the rights or dictate36 to the understandings of the neighbourhood. In the meantime they eat, drink, and carouse38 together. They wash down all minor39 animosities and unavoidable differences of opinion in pint40 bumpers41; and the complaints of the multitude are lost in the clatter42 of plates and the roaring of loyal catches at every quarter’s meeting or mayor’s feast. The town-hall reels with an unwieldy sense of self-importance; ‘the very stones prate’ of processions; the common pump creaks in concert with the uncorking of bottles and tapping of beer-barrels: the market-cross looks big with authority. Everything has an ambiguous, upstart, repulsive43 air. Circle within circle is formed, an imperium in imperio: and the business is to exclude from the first circle all the notions, opinions, ideas, interests, and pretensions44 of the second. Hence there arises not only an antipathy45 to common sense and decency46 in those things where there is a real opposition of interest or clashing of prejudice, but it becomes a habit and a favourite amusement in those who are ‘dressed in a little brief authority,’ to thwart47, annoy, insult, and harass48 others on all occasions where the least opportunity or pretext49 for it occurs. Spite, bickerings, back-biting, insinuations, lies, jealousies50, nicknames are the order of the day, and nobody knows what it’s all about. One would think that the mayor, aldermen, and liverymen were a higher and more select species of animals than their townsmen; though there is no difference whatever but in their gowns and staff of office! This is the essence of the esprit de corps. It is certainly not a very delectable51 source of contemplation or subject to treat of.
Public bodies are so far worse than the individuals composing them, because the official takes place of the moral sense. The nerves that in themselves were soft and pliable52 enough, and responded naturally to the touch of pity, when fastened into a machine of that sort become callous53 and rigid54, and throw off every extraneous55 application that can be made to them with perfect apathy56. An appeal is made to the ties of individual friendship: the body in general know nothing of them. A case has occurred which strongly called forth57 the compassion58 of the person who was witness of it; but the body (or any special deputation of them) were not present when it happened. These little weaknesses and ‘compunctious visitings of nature’ are effectually guarded against, indeed, by the very rules and regulations of the society, as well as by its spirit. The individual is the creature of his feelings of all sorts, the sport of his vices59 and his virtues60 — like the fool in Shakespear, ‘motley’s his proper wear’:— corporate bodies are dressed in a moral uniform; mixed motives do not operate there, frailty61 is made into a system, ‘diseases are turned into commodities.’ Only so much of any one’s natural or genuine impulses can influence him in his artificial capacity as formally comes home to the aggregate62 conscience of those with whom he acts, or bears upon the interests (real or pretended), the importance, respectability, and professed63 objects of the society. Beyond that point the nerve is bound up, the conscience is seared, and the torpedo-touch of so much inert64 matter operates to deaden the best feelings and harden the heart. Laughter and tears are said to be the characteristic signs of humanity. Laughter is common enough in such places as a set-off to the mock-gravity; but who ever saw a public body in tears? Nothing but a job or some knavery65 can keep them serious for ten minutes together.80
Such are the qualifications and the apprenticeship66 necessary to make a man tolerated, to enable him to pass as a cypher, or be admitted as a mere67 numerical unit, in any corporate body: to be a leader and dictator he must be diplomatic in impertinence, and officious in every dirty work. He must not merely conform to established prejudices; he must flatter them. He must not merely be insensible to the demands of moderation and equity68; he must be loud against them. He must not simply fall in with all sorts of contemptible69 cabals71 and intrigues; he must be indefatigable72 in fomenting73 them, and setting everybody together by the ears. He must not only repeat, but invent lies. He must make speeches and write handbills; he must be devoted74 to the wishes and objects of the society, its creature, its jackal, its busybody, its mouthpiece, its prompter; he must deal in law cases, in demurrers, in charters, in traditions, in common-places, in logic75 and rhetoric76 — in everything but common sense and honesty. He must (in Mr. Burke’s phrase) ‘disembowel himself of his natural entrails, and be stuffed with paltry, blurred77 sheets of parchment about the rights’ of the privileged few. He must be a concentrated essence, a varnished78, powdered representative of the vices, absurdities79, hypocrisy80, jealousy81, pride, and pragmaticalness of his party. Such a one, by bustle82 and self-importance and puffing83, by flattering one to his face and abusing another behind his back, by lending himself to the weaknesses of some, and pampering84 the mischievous85 propensities86 of others, will pass for a great man in a little society.
Age does not improve the morality of public bodies. They grow more and more tenacious87 of their idle privileges and senseless self-consequence. They get weak and obstinate88 at the same time. Those who belong to them have all the upstart pride and pettifogging spirit of their present character ingrafted on the venerableness and superstitious89 sanctity of ancient institutions. They are naturally at issue, first with their neighbours, and next with their contemporaries, on all matters of common propriety90 and judgment. They become more attached to forms, the more obsolete91 they are; and the defence of every absurd and invidious distinction is a debt which (by implication) they owe to the dead as well as the living. What might once have been of serious practical utility they turn to farce92, by retaining the letter when the spirit is gone: and they do this the more, the more glaring the inconsistency and want of sound reasoning; for they think they thus give proof of their zeal93 and attachment to the abstract principle on which old establishments exist, the ground of prescription94 and authority. The greater the wrong, the greater the right, in all such cases. The esprit de corps does not take much merit to itself for upholding what is justifiable95 in any system, or the proceedings96 of any party, but for adhering to what is palpably injurious. You may exact the first from an enemy: the last is the province of a friend. It has been made a subject of complaint, that the champions of the Church, for example, who are advanced to dignities and honours, are hardly ever those who defend the common principles of Christianity, but those who volunteer to man the out-works, and set up ingenious excuses for the questionable97 points, the ticklish98 places in the established form of worship, that is, for those which are attacked from without, and are supposed in danger of being undermined by stratagem99, or carried by assault!
The great resorts and seats of learning often outlive in this way the intention of the founders100 as the world outgrows101 them. They may be said to resemble antiquated102 coquettes of the last age, who think everything ridiculous and intolerable but what was in fashion when they were young, and yet are standing37 proofs of the progress of taste and the vanity of human pretensions. Our universities are, in a great measure, become cisterns103 to hold, not conduits to disperse104 knowledge. The age has the start of them; that is, other sources of knowledge have been opened since their formation, to which the world have had access, and have drunk plentifully105 at those living fountains, but from which they are debarred by the tenor106 of their charter, and as a matter of dignity and privilege. They have grown poor, like the old grandees107 in some countries, by subsisting108 on the inheritance of learning, while the people have grown rich by trade. They are too much in the nature of fixtures109 in intellect: they stop the way in the road to truth; or at any rate (for they do not themselves advance) they can only be of service as a check-weight on the too hasty and rapid career of innovation. All that has been invented or thought in the last two hundred years they take no cognizance of, or as little as possible; they are above it; they stand upon the ancient landmarks110, and will not budge111; whatever was not known when they were first endowed, they are still in profound and lofty ignorance of. Yet in that period how much has been done in literature, arts, and science, of which (with the exception of mathematical knowledge, the hardest to gainsay112 or subject to the trammels of prejudice and barbarous ipse dixits) scarce any trace is to be found in the authentic113 modes of study and legitimate114 inquiry115 which prevail at either of our Universities! The unavoidable aim of all corporate bodies of learning is not to grow wise, or teach others wisdom, but to prevent any one else from being or seeming wiser than themselves; in other words, their infallible tendency is in the end to suppress inquiry and darken knowledge, by setting limits to the mind of man, and saying to his proud spirit, Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther! It would not be an unedifying experiment to make a collection of the titles of works published in the course of the year by Members of the Universities. If any attempt is to be made to patch up an idle system in policy or legislation, or church government, it is by a member of the University: if any hashed-up speculation116 on an old exploded argument is to be brought forward ‘in spite of shame, in erring117 reason’s spite,’ it is by a Member of the University: if a paltry project is ushered118 into the world for combining ancient prejudices with modern time-serving, it is by a Member of the University. Thus we get at a stated supply of the annual Defences of the Sinking Fund, Thoughts on the Evils of Education, Treatises119 on Predestination, and Eulogies120 on Mr. Malthus, all from the same source, and through the same vent14. If they came from any other quarter nobody would look at them; but they have an Imprimatur from dulness and authority: we know that there is no offence in them; and they are stuck in the shop windows, and read (in the intervals121 of Lord Byron’s works, or the Scotch122 novels) in cathedral towns and close boroughs123!
It is, I understand and believe, pretty much the same in more modern institutions for the encouragement of the Fine Arts. The end is lost in the means: rules take place of nature and genius; cabal70 and bustle, and struggle for rank and precedence, supersede124 the study and the love of art. A Royal Academy is a kind of hospital and infirmary for the obliquities of taste and ingenuity125 — a receptacle where enthusiasm and originality126 stop and stagnate127, and spread their influence no farther, instead of being a school founded for genius, or a temple built to fame. The generality of those who wriggle128, or fawn129, or beg their way to a seat there, live on their certificate of merit to a good old age, and are seldom heard of afterwards. If a man of sterling130 capacity gets among them, and minds his own business he is nobody; he makes no figure in council, in voting, in resolutions or speeches. If he comes forward with plans and views for the good of the Academy and the advancement131 of art, he is immediately set upon as a visionary, a fanatic132, with notions hostile to the interest and credit of the existing members of the society. If he directs the ambition of the scholars to the study of History, this strikes at once at the emoluments133 of the profession, who are most of them (by God’s will) portrait painters. If he eulogises the Antique, and speaks highly of the Old Masters, he is supposed to be actuated by envy to living painters and native talent. If, again, he insists on a knowledge of anatomy134 as essential to correct drawing, this would seem to imply a want of it in our most eminent135 designers. Every plan, suggestion, argument, that has the general purposes and principles of art for its object, is thwarted136, scouted137, ridiculed138, slandered139, as having a malignant140 aspect towards the profits and pretensions of the great mass of flourishing and respectable artists in the country. This leads to irritation141 and ill-will on all sides. The obstinacy142 of the constituted authorities keeps pace with the violence and extravagance opposed to it; and they lay all the blame on the folly143 and mistakes they have themselves occasioned or increased. It is considered as a personal quarrel, not a public question; by which means the dignity of the body is implicated144 in resenting the slips and inadvertencies of its members, not in promoting their common and declared objects. In this sort of wretched tracasserie the Barrys and H——s stand no chance with the Catons, the Tubbs, and F——s. Sir Joshua even was obliged to hold himself aloof145 from them, and Fuseli passes as a kind of nondescript, or one of his own grotesques146. The air of an academy, in short, is not the air of genius and immortality147; it is too close and heated, and impregnated with the notions of the common sort. A man steeped in a corrupt atmosphere of this description is no longer open to the genial148 impulses of nature and truth, nor sees visions of ideal beauty, nor dreams of antique grace and grandeur149, nor has the finest works of art continually hovering150 and floating through his uplifted fancy; but the images that haunt it are rules of the academy, charters, inaugural151 speeches, resolutions passed or rescinded152, cards of invitation to a council-meeting, or the annual dinner, prize medals, and the king’s diploma, constituting him a gentleman and esquire. He ‘wipes out all trivial, fond records’; all romantic aspirations153; ‘the Raphael grace, the Guido air’; and the commands of the academy alone ‘must live within the book and volume of his brain, unmixed with baser matter.’ It may be doubted whether any work of lasting154 reputation and universal interest can spring up in this soil, or ever has done in that of any academy. The last question is a matter of fact and history, not of mere opinion or prejudice; and may be ascertained155 as such accordingly. The mighty156 names of former times rose before the existence of academies; and the three greatest painters, undoubtedly157, that this country has produced, Reynolds, Wilson, and Hogarth, were not ‘dandled and swaddled’ into artists in any institution for the fine arts. I do not apprehend158 that the names of Chantrey or Wilkie (great as one, and considerable as the other of them is) can be made use of in any way to impugn159 the jet of this argument. We may find a considerable improvement in some of our artists, when they get out of the vortex for a time. Sir Thomas Lawrence is all the better for having been abstracted for a year or two from Somerset House; and Mr. Dawe, they say, has been doing wonders in the North. When will he return, and once more ‘bid Britannia rival Greece’?
Mr. Canning somewhere lays it down as a rule, that corporate bodies are necessarily correct and pure in their conduct, from the knowledge which the individuals composing them have of one another, and the jealous vigilance they exercise over each other’s motives and characters; whereas people collected into mobs are disorderly and unprincipled from being utterly160 unknown and unaccountable to each other. This is a curious pass of wit. I differ with him in both parts of the dilemma161. To begin with the first, and to handle it somewhat cavalierly, according to the model before us; we know, for instance, there is said to be honour among thieves, but very little honesty towards others. Their honour consists in the division of the booty, not in the mode of acquiring it: they do not (often) betray one another, but they will waylay162 a stranger, or knock out a traveller’s brains: they may be depended on in giving the alarm when any of their posts are in danger of being surprised; and they will stand together for their ill-gotten gains to the last drop of their blood. Yet they form a distinct society, and are strictly163 responsible for their behaviour to one another and to their leader. They are not a mob, but a gang, completely in one another’s power and secrets. Their familiarity, however, with the proceedings of the corps does not lead them to expect or to exact from it a very high standard of moral honesty; that is out of the question; but they are sure to gain the good opinion of their fellows by committing all sorts of depredations164, fraud, and violence against the community at large. So (not to speak it profanely) some of Mr. Croker’s friends may be very respectable people in their way —‘all honourable165 men’— but their respectability is confined within party limits; every one does not sympathise in the integrity of their views; the understanding between them and the public is not well defined or reciprocal. Or, suppose a gang of pickpockets166 hustle167 a passenger in the street, and the mob set upon them, and proceed to execute summary justice upon such as they can lay hands on, am I to conclude that the rogues168 are in the right, because theirs is a system of well-organised knavery, which they settled in the morning, with their eyes one upon the other, and which they regularly review at night, with a due estimate of each other’s motives, character, and conduct in the business; and that the honest men are in the wrong, because they are a casual collection of unprejudiced, disinterested169 individuals, taken at a venture from the mass of the people, acting170 without concert or responsibility, on the spur of the occasion, and giving way to their instantaneous impulses and honest anger? Mobs, in fact, then, are almost always right in their feelings, and often in their judgments171, on this very account — that being utterly unknown to and disconnected with each other, they have no point of union or principle of cooperation between them, but the natural sense of justice recognised by all persons in common. They appeal, at the first meeting, not to certain symbols and watchwords privately172 agreed upon, like Freemasons, but to the maxims173 and instincts proper to all the world. They have no other clue to guide them to their object but either the dictates174 of the heart or the universally understood sentiments of society, neither of which are likely to be in the wrong. The flame which bursts out and blazes from popular sympathy is made of honest but homely175 materials. It is not kindled176 by sparks of wit or sophistry177, nor damped by the cold calculations of self-interest. The multitude may be wantonly set on by others, as is too often the case, or be carried too far in the impulse of rage and disappointment; but their resentment178, when they are left to themselves, is almost uniformly, in the first instance, excited by some evident abuse and wrong; and the excesses into which they run arise from that very want of foresight179 and regular system which is a pledge of the uprightness and heartiness180 of their intentions. In short, the only class of persons to sinister181 and corrupt motives is not applicable is that body of individuals which usually goes by the name of the People!
点击收听单词发音
1 corporate | |
adj.共同的,全体的;公司的,企业的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 corrupt | |
v.贿赂,收买;adj.腐败的,贪污的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 profligate | |
adj.行为不检的;n.放荡的人,浪子,肆意挥霍者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 amenable | |
adj.经得起检验的;顺从的;对负有义务的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 goodwill | |
n.善意,亲善,信誉,声誉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 corps | |
n.(通信等兵种的)部队;(同类作的)一组 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 improper | |
adj.不适当的,不合适的,不正确的,不合礼仪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 vent | |
n.通风口,排放口;开衩;vt.表达,发泄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 acquiesce | |
vi.默许,顺从,同意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 refinements | |
n.(生活)风雅;精炼( refinement的名词复数 );改良品;细微的改良;优雅或高贵的动作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 remonstrance | |
n抗议,抱怨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 conformity | |
n.一致,遵从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 captious | |
adj.难讨好的,吹毛求疵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 coterie | |
n.(有共同兴趣的)小团体,小圈子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 regularity | |
n.规律性,规则性;匀称,整齐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 attachment | |
n.附属物,附件;依恋;依附 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 refractory | |
adj.倔强的,难驾驭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 novice | |
adj.新手的,生手的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 wedded | |
adj.正式结婚的;渴望…的,执著于…的v.嫁,娶,(与…)结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 intrigues | |
n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 );神秘气氛;引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 );激起…的好奇心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 feuds | |
n.长期不和,世仇( feud的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 paltry | |
adj.无价值的,微不足道的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 dictate | |
v.口授;(使)听写;指令,指示,命令 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 carouse | |
v.狂欢;痛饮;n.狂饮的宴会 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 pint | |
n.品脱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 bumpers | |
(汽车上的)保险杠,缓冲器( bumper的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 pretensions | |
自称( pretension的名词复数 ); 自命不凡; 要求; 权力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 antipathy | |
n.憎恶;反感,引起反感的人或事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 decency | |
n.体面,得体,合宜,正派,庄重 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 thwart | |
v.阻挠,妨碍,反对;adj.横(断的) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 harass | |
vt.使烦恼,折磨,骚扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 pretext | |
n.借口,托词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 jealousies | |
n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 );妒羡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 delectable | |
adj.使人愉快的;美味的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 pliable | |
adj.易受影响的;易弯的;柔顺的,易驾驭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 callous | |
adj.无情的,冷淡的,硬结的,起老茧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 extraneous | |
adj.体外的;外来的;外部的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 apathy | |
n.漠不关心,无动于衷;冷淡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 vices | |
缺陷( vice的名词复数 ); 恶习; 不道德行为; 台钳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 frailty | |
n.脆弱;意志薄弱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 aggregate | |
adj.总计的,集合的;n.总数;v.合计;集合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 professed | |
公开声称的,伪称的,已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 inert | |
adj.无活动能力的,惰性的;迟钝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 knavery | |
n.恶行,欺诈的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 apprenticeship | |
n.学徒身份;学徒期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 equity | |
n.公正,公平,(无固定利息的)股票 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 contemptible | |
adj.可鄙的,可轻视的,卑劣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 cabal | |
n.政治阴谋小集团 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 cabals | |
n.(政治)阴谋小集团,(尤指政治上的)阴谋( cabal的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 indefatigable | |
adj.不知疲倦的,不屈不挠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 fomenting | |
v.激起,煽动(麻烦等)( foment的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 logic | |
n.逻辑(学);逻辑性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 rhetoric | |
n.修辞学,浮夸之言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 blurred | |
v.(使)变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 );(使)难以区分;模模糊糊;迷离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 varnished | |
浸渍过的,涂漆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 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: |
|
|
80 hypocrisy | |
n.伪善,虚伪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 puffing | |
v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 pampering | |
v.纵容,宠,娇养( pamper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 mischievous | |
adj.调皮的,恶作剧的,有害的,伤人的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 propensities | |
n.倾向,习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 tenacious | |
adj.顽强的,固执的,记忆力强的,粘的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 obstinate | |
adj.顽固的,倔强的,不易屈服的,较难治愈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 superstitious | |
adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 obsolete | |
adj.已废弃的,过时的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 farce | |
n.闹剧,笑剧,滑稽戏;胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 prescription | |
n.处方,开药;指示,规定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 justifiable | |
adj.有理由的,无可非议的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 questionable | |
adj.可疑的,有问题的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 ticklish | |
adj.怕痒的;问题棘手的;adv.怕痒地;n.怕痒,小心处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 stratagem | |
n.诡计,计谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 founders | |
n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 outgrows | |
长[发展] 得超过(某物)的范围( outgrow的第三人称单数 ); 长[发展]得不能再要(某物); 长得比…快; 生长速度超过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 antiquated | |
adj.陈旧的,过时的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 cisterns | |
n.蓄水池,储水箱( cistern的名词复数 );地下储水池 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 disperse | |
vi.使分散;使消失;vt.分散;驱散 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 plentifully | |
adv. 许多地,丰饶地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 tenor | |
n.男高音(歌手),次中音(乐器),要旨,大意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 grandees | |
n.贵族,大公,显贵者( grandee的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 subsisting | |
v.(靠很少的钱或食物)维持生活,生存下去( subsist的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 fixtures | |
(房屋等的)固定装置( fixture的名词复数 ); 如(浴盆、抽水马桶); 固定在某位置的人或物; (定期定点举行的)体育活动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 landmarks | |
n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 );目标;(标志重要阶段的)里程碑 ~ (in sth);有历史意义的建筑物(或遗址) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 budge | |
v.移动一点儿;改变立场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 gainsay | |
v.否认,反驳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 authentic | |
a.真的,真正的;可靠的,可信的,有根据的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 speculation | |
n.思索,沉思;猜测;投机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 erring | |
做错事的,错误的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 treatises | |
n.专题著作,专题论文,专著( treatise的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 eulogies | |
n.颂词,颂文( eulogy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 boroughs | |
(尤指大伦敦的)行政区( borough的名词复数 ); 议会中有代表的市镇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 supersede | |
v.替代;充任 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 originality | |
n.创造力,独创性;新颖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 stagnate | |
v.停止 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 wriggle | |
v./n.蠕动,扭动;蜿蜒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 fawn | |
n.未满周岁的小鹿;v.巴结,奉承 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 sterling | |
adj.英币的(纯粹的,货真价实的);n.英国货币(英镑) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 advancement | |
n.前进,促进,提升 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 fanatic | |
n.狂热者,入迷者;adj.狂热入迷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 emoluments | |
n.报酬,薪水( emolument的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 anatomy | |
n.解剖学,解剖;功能,结构,组织 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 thwarted | |
阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 ); 使受挫折; 挫败; 横过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 scouted | |
寻找,侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 ); 物色(优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 ridiculed | |
v.嘲笑,嘲弄,奚落( ridicule的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 slandered | |
造谣中伤( slander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 malignant | |
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 obstinacy | |
n.顽固;(病痛等)难治 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 implicated | |
adj.密切关联的;牵涉其中的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 grotesques | |
n.衣着、打扮、五官等古怪,不协调的样子( grotesque的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 immortality | |
n.不死,不朽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 hovering | |
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 inaugural | |
adj.就职的;n.就职典礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 rescinded | |
v.废除,取消( rescind的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 aspirations | |
强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 ); 志向; 发送气音; 发 h 音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 lasting | |
adj.永久的,永恒的;vbl.持续,维持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 ascertained | |
v.弄清,确定,查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 apprehend | |
vt.理解,领悟,逮捕,拘捕,忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 impugn | |
v.指责,对…表示怀疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 dilemma | |
n.困境,进退两难的局面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 waylay | |
v.埋伏,伏击 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 depredations | |
n.劫掠,毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 pickpockets | |
n.扒手( pickpocket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 hustle | |
v.推搡;竭力兜售或获取;催促;n.奔忙(碌) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 rogues | |
n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 );无赖;调皮捣蛋的人;离群的野兽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 disinterested | |
adj.不关心的,不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 judgments | |
判断( judgment的名词复数 ); 鉴定; 评价; 审判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 privately | |
adv.以私人的身份,悄悄地,私下地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 maxims | |
n.格言,座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 dictates | |
n.命令,规定,要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 homely | |
adj.家常的,简朴的;不漂亮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 kindled | |
(使某物)燃烧,着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 ); 激起(感情等); 发亮,放光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 sophistry | |
n.诡辩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 foresight | |
n.先见之明,深谋远虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 heartiness | |
诚实,热心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |