“What materials have been used to kindle18 the flame?” inquired I of a bystander, for I was desirous of knowing the whole process of the affair from beginning to end.
The person whom I addressed was a grave man, fifty years old, or thereabout, who had evidently come thither as a looker-on; he struck me immediately as having weighed for himself the true value of life and its circumstances, and therefore as feeling little personal interest in whatever judgment19 the world might form of them. Before answering my question, he looked me in the face, by the kindling20 light of the fire.
“Oh, some very dry combustibles,” replied he, “and extremely suitable to the purpose — no other, in fact, than yesterday’s newspapers, last month’s magazines, and last year’s withered22 leaves. Here, now, comes some antiquated23 trash, that will take fire like a handful of shavings.”
As he spoke24, some rough-looking men advanced to the verge25 of the bonfire, and threw in, as it appeared, all the rubbish of the Herald’s office; the blazonry of coat-armor, the crests26 and devices of illustrious families; pedigrees that extended back, like lines of light, into the mist of the dark ages, together with stars, garters, and embroidered27 collars, each of which, as paltry28 a bauble29 as it might appear to the uninstructed eye, had once possessed30 vast significance, and was still, in truth, reckoned among the most precious of moral or material facts, by the worshippers of the gorgeous past. Mingled31 with this confused heap, which was tossed into the flames by armfuls at once, were innumerable badges of knighthood, comprising those of all the European sovereignties, and Napoleon’s decoration of the Legion of Honor, the ribands of which were entangled32 with those of the ancient order of St. Louis. There, too, were the medals of our own society of Cincinnati, by means of which, as history tells us, an order of hereditary33 knights34 came near being constituted out of the king-quellers of the Revolution. And besides, there were the patents of nobility of German counts and barons35, Spanish grandees36, and English peers, from the worm-eaten instruments signed by William the Conqueror37, down to the bran-new parchment of the latest lord who has received his honors from the fair hand of Victoria.
At sight of these dense38 volumes of smoke, mingled with vivid jets of flame that gushed39 and eddied40 forth41 from this immense pile of earthly distinctions, the multitude of plebeian42 spectators set up a joyous43 shout, and clapt their hands with an emphasis that made the welkin echo. That was their moment of triumph, achieved, after long ages, over creatures of the same clay and the same spiritual infirmities, who had dared to assume the privileges due only to Heaven’s better workmanship. But now there rushed towards the blazing heap a gray-haired man, of stately presence, wearing a coat from the breast of which a star, or other badge of rank, seemed to have been forcibly wrenched45 away. He had not the tokens of intellectual power in his face; but still there was the demeanor47 — the habitual48, and almost native dignity — of one who had been born to the idea of his own social superiority, and had never felt it questioned till that moment.
“People,” cried he, gazing at the ruin of what was dearest to his eyes with grief and wonder, but nevertheless, with a degree of stateliness; “people, what have you done! This fire is consuming all that marked your advance from barbarism, or that could have prevented your relapse thither. We — the men of the privileged orders — were those who kept alive, from age to age, the old chivalrous49 spirit; the gentle and generous thought; the higher, the purer, the more refined and delicate life! With the nobles, too, you cast off the poet, the painter, the sculptor50 — all the beautiful arts; for we were their patrons and created the atmosphere in which they flourish. In abolishing the majestic51 distinctions of rank, society loses not only its grace, but its steadfastness–”
More he would doubtless have spoken, but here there arose an outcry, sportive, contemptuous, and indignant, that altogether drowned the appeal of the fallen nobleman, insomuch that, casting one look of despair at his own half-burnt pedigree, he shrunk back into the crowd, glad to shelter himself under his new-found insignificance52.
“Let him thank his stars that we have not flung him into the same fire!” shouted a rude figure, spurning53 the embers with his foot. “And, henceforth, let no man dare to show a piece of musty parchment as his warrant for lording it over his fellows! If he have strength of arm, well and good; it is one species of superiority. If he have wit, wisdom, courage, force of character, let these attributes do for him what they may. But, from this day forward, no mortal must hope for place and consideration by reckoning up the mouldy bones of his ancestors! That nonsense is done away.”
“And in good time,” remarked the grave observer by my side, in a low voice, however —“if no worse nonsense comes in its place. But, at all events, this species of nonsense has fairly lived out its life.”
There was little space to muse54 or moralize over the embers of this time-honored rubbish; for, before it was half burnt out, there came another multitude from beyond the sea, bearing the purple robes of royalty55, and the crowns, globes, and sceptres of emperors and kings. All these had been condemned as useless baubles56, playthings, at best, fit only for the infancy57 of the world, or rods to govern and chastise58 it in its nonage; but with which universal manhood, at its full-grown stature59, could no longer brook60 to be insulted. Into such contempt had these regal insignia now fallen, that the gilded61 crown and tinseled robes of the player-king, from Drury–Lane Theatre, had been thrown in among the rest, doubtless as a mockery of his brother-monarchs on the great stage of the world. It was a strange sight to discern the crown-jewels of England, glowing and flashing in the midst of the fire. Some of them had been delivered down from the time of the Saxon princes; others were purchased with vast revenues, or, perchance, ravished from the dead brows of the native potentates62 of Hindostan; and the whole now blazed with a dazzling lustre64, as if a star had fallen in that spot, and been shattered into fragments. The splendor65 of the ruined monarchy66 had no reflection, save in those inestimable precious stones. But enough on this subject. It were but tedious to describe how the Emperor of Austria’s mantle67 was converted to tinder, and how the posts and pillars of the French throne became a heap of coals, which it was impossible to distinguish from those of any other wood. Let me add, however, that I noticed one of the exiled Poles stirring up the bonfire with the Czar of Russia’s sceptre, which he afterwards flung into the flames.
“The smell of singed69 garments is quite intolerable here,” observed my new acquaintance, as the breeze enveloped70 us in the smoke of a royal wardrobe. “Let us get to windward, and see what they are doing on the other side of the bonfire.”
We accordingly passed around, and were just in time to witness the arrival of a vast procession of Washingtonians — as the votaries71 of temperance call themselves now-a-days — accompanied by thousands of the Irish disciples72 of Father Mathew, with that great apostle at their head. They brought a rich contribution to the bonfire; being nothing less than all the hogsheads and barrels of liquor in the world, which they rolled before them across the prairie.
“Now, my children,” cried Father Mathew, when they reached the verge of the fire —“one shove more, and the work is done! And now let us stand off and see Satan deal with his own liquor!”
Accordingly, having placed their wooden vessels73 within reach of the flames, the procession stood off at a safe distance, and soon beheld74 them burst into a blaze that reached the clouds, and threatened to set the sky itself on fire. And well it might. For here was the whole world’s stock of spirituous liquors, which, instead of kindling a frenzied75 light in the eyes of individual topers, as of yore, soared upwards76 with a bewildering gleam that startled all mankind. It was the aggregate77 of that fierce fire which would otherwise have scorched78 the hearts of millions. Meantime, numberless bottles of precious wine were flung into the blaze, which lapped up the contents as if it loved them, and grew, like other drunkards, the merrier and fiercer for what it quaffed80. Never again will the insatiable thirst of the fire-fiend be so pampered81! Here were the treasures of famous bon-vivants — liquors that had been tossed on ocean, and mellowed82 in the sun, and hoarded83 long in the recesses84 of the earth — the pale, the gold, the ruddy juice of whatever vineyards were most delicate — the entire vintage of Tokay — all mingling85 in one stream with the vile44 fluids of the common pot-house, and contributing to heighten the self-same blaze. And while it rose in a gigantic spire86, that seemed to wave against the arch of the firmament, and combine itself with the light of stars, the multitude gave a shout, as if the broad earth were exulting88 in its deliverance from the curse of ages.
But the joy was not universal. Many deemed that human life would be gloomier than ever, when that brief illumination should sink down. While the reformers were at work, I overheard muttered expostulations from several respectable gentlemen with red noses, and wearing gouty shoes; and a ragged89 worthy90, whose face looked like a hearth91 where the fire is burnt out, now expressed his discontent more openly and boldly.
“What is this world good for,” said the last toper, “now that we can never be jolly any more? What is to comfort the poor man in sorrow and perplexity? how is he to keep his heart warm against the cold winds of this cheerless earth? and what do you propose to give him in exchange for the solace92 that you take away? How are old friends to sit together by the fireside, without a cheerful glass between them? A plague upon your reformation! It is a sad world, a cold world, a selfish world, a low world, not worth an honest fellow’s living in, now that good fellowship is gone for ever!”
This harangue93 excited great mirth among the bystanders. But, preposterous94 as was the sentiment, I could not help commiserating95 the forlorn condition of the last toper, whose boon-companions had dwindled96 away from his side, leaving the poor fellow without a soul to countenance97 him in sipping99 his liquor, nor indeed any liquor to sip98. Not that this was quite the true state of the case; for I had observed him, at a critical moment, filch100 a bottle of fourth-proof brandy that fell beside the bonfire, and hide it in his pocket.
The spirituous and fermented101 liquors being thus disposed of, the zeal102 of the reformers next induced them to replenish103 the fire with all the boxes of tea and bags of coffee in the world. And now came the planters of Virginia, bringing their crops of tobacco. These, being cast upon the heap of inutility, aggregated104 it to the size of a mountain, and incensed105 the atmosphere with such potent63 fragrance106 that methought we should never draw pure breath again. The present sacrifice seemed to startle the lovers of the weed more than any that they had hitherto witnessed.
“Well, they’ve put my pipe out,” said an old gentleman, flinging it into the flames in a pet. “What is this world coming to? Everything rich and racy — all the spice of life — is to be condemned as useless. Now that they have kindled107 the bonfire, if these nonsensical reformers would fling themselves into it, all would be well enough!”
“Be patient,” responded a staunch conservative; “it will come to that in the end. They will first fling us in, and finally themselves.”
From the general and systematic108 measures of reform, I now turned to consider the individual contributions to this memorable109 bonfire. In many instances these were of a very amusing character. One poor fellow threw in his empty purse, and another a bundle of counterfeit110 or insolvable bank notes. Fashionable ladies threw in their last season’s bonnets111, together with heaps of ribbons, yellow lace, and much other half-worn milliner’s ware112; all of which proved even more evanescent in the fire than it had been in the fashion. A multitude of lovers of both sexes — discarded maids or bachelors, and couples mutually weary of one another — tossed in bundles of perfumed letters and enamored sonnets115. A hack116 politician, being deprived of bread by the loss of office, threw in his teeth, which happened to be false ones. The Rev5. Sydney Smith — having voyaged across the Atlantic for that sole purpose — came up to the bonfire with a bitter grin, and threw in certain repudiated117 bonds, fortified118 though they were with the broad seal of a sovereign state. A little boy of five years old, in the premature119 manliness120 of the present epoch121, threw in his playthings; a college graduate, his diploma; an apothecary122, ruined by the spread of homoeopathy, his whole stock of drugs and medicines; a physician, his library; a parson, his old sermons; and a fine gentleman of the old school, his code of manners, which he had formerly123 written down for the benefit of the next generation. A widow, resolving on a second marriage, slily threw in her dead husband’s miniature. A young man, jilted by his mistress, would willingly have flung his own desperate heart into the flames, but could find no means to wrench46 it out of his bosom124. An American author, whose works were neglected by the public, threw his pen and paper into the bonfire, and betook himself to some less discouraging occupation. It somewhat startled me to overhear a number of ladies, highly respectable in appearance, proposing to fling their gowns and petticoats into the flames, and assume the garb125, together with the manners, duties, offices, and responsibilities, of the opposite sex.
What favor was accorded to this scheme, I am unable to say; my attention being suddenly drawn126 to a poor, deceived, and half-delirious girl, who, exclaiming that she was the most worthless thing alive or dead, attempted to cast herself into the fire, amid all that wrecked127 and broken trumpery of the world. A good man, however, ran to her rescue.
“Patience, my poor girl!” said he, as he drew her back from the fierce embrace of the destroying angel. “Be patient, and abide128 Heaven’s will. So long as you possess a living soul, all may be restored to its first freshness. These things of matter, and creations of human fantasy, are fit for nothing but to be burnt, when once they have had their day. But your day is eternity129!”
“Yes,” said the wretched girl, whose frenzy130 seemed now to have sunk down into deep despondency; “yes, and the sunshine is blotted131 out of it!”
It was now rumored132 among the spectators that all the weapons and munitions133 of war were to be thrown into the bonfire, with the exception of the world’s stock of gunpowder134, which, as the safest mode of disposing of it, had already been drowned in the sea. This intelligence seemed to awaken135 great diversity of opinion. The hopeful philanthropist esteemed136 it a token that the millennium137 was already come; while persons of another stamp, in whose view mankind was a breed of bull-dogs, prophesied138 that all the old stoutness139, fervor140, nobleness, generosity141, and magnanimity of the race would disappear; these qualities, as they affirmed, requiring blood for their nourishment142. They comforted themselves, however, in the belief that the proposed abolition143 of war was impracticable, for any length of time together.
Be that as it might, numberless great guns, whose thunder had long been the voice of battle — the artillery144 of the Armada, the battering-trains of Marlborough, and the adverse145 cannon146 of Napoleon and Wellington — were trundled into the midst of the fire. By the continual addition of dry combustibles, it had now waxed so intense that neither brass147 nor iron could withstand it. It was wonderful to behold148 how these terrible instruments of slaughter149 melted away like playthings of wax. Then the armies of the earth wheeled around the mighty150 furnace, with their military music playing triumphant151 marches, and flung in their muskets152 and swords. The standard-bearers, likewise, cast one look upward at their banners, all tattered153 with shot-holes, and inscribed154 with the names of victorious155 fields, and, giving them a last flourish on the breeze, they lowered them into the flame, which snatched them upward in its rush toward the clouds. This ceremony being over, the world was left without a single weapon on in its hands, except, possibly, a few old king’s arms and rusty156 swords, and other trophies158 of the Revolution, in some of our state armories159. And now the drums were beaten and the trumpets160 brayed161 all together, as a prelude162 to the proclamation of universal and eternal peace, and the announcement that glory was no longer to be won by blood; but that it would henceforth be the contention163 of the human race to work out the greatest mutual114 good, and that beneficence, in the future annals of the earth, would claim the praise of valor164. The blessed tidings were accordingly promulgated165, and caused infinite rejoicings among those who had stood aghast at the horror and absurdity166 of war.
But I saw a grim smile pass over the seared visage of a stately old commander — by his war-worn figure and rich military dress, he might have been one of Napoleon’s famous marshals — who, with the rest of the world’s soldiery, had just flung away the sword that had been familiar to his right hand for half a century.
“Aye, aye!” grumbled167 he. “Let them proclaim what they please; but, in the end, we shall find that all this foolery has only made more work for the armorers and cannon-founders168.”
“Why, sir,” exclaimed I, in astonishment169, “do you imagine that the human race will ever so far return on the steps of its past madness as to weld another sword, or cast another cannon?”
“There will be no need,” observed, with a sneer170, one who neither felt benevolence171, nor had faith in it. “When Cain wished to slay172 his brother, he was at no loss for a weapon.”
“We shall see,” replied the veteran commander. “If I am mistaken, so much the better; but in my opinion — without pretending to philosophize about the matter — the necessity of war lies far deeper than these honest gentlemen suppose. What! Is there a field for all the petty disputes of individuals, and shall there be no great law-court for the settlement of national difficulties? The battle-field is the only court where such suits can be tried!”
“You forget, general,” rejoined I, “that, in this advanced stage of civilization, Reason and Philanthropy combined will constitute just such a tribunal as is requisite173.”
“Ah, I had forgotten that, indeed!” said the old warrior174, as he limped away.
The fire was now to be replenished175 with materials that had hitherto been considered of even greater importance to the well-being176 of society, than the warlike munitions which we had already seen consumed. A body of reformers had travelled all over the earth, in quest of the machinery177 by which the different nations were accustomed to inflict178 the punishment of death. A shudder179 passed through the multitude, as these ghastly emblems180 were dragged forward. Even the flames seemed at first to shrink away, displaying the shape and murderous contrivance of each in a full blaze of light, which, of itself, was sufficient to convince mankind of the long and deadly error of human law. Those old implements181 of cruelty — those horrible monsters of mechanism182 — those inventions which it seemed to demand something worse than man’s natural heart to contrive183, and which had lurked184 in the dusky nooks of ancient prisons, the subject of terror-stricken legend — were now brought forth to view. Headsmen’s axes, with the rust157 of noble and royal blood upon them, and a vast collection of halters that had choked the breath of plebeian victims, were thrown in together. A shout greeted the arrival of the guillotine, which was thrust forward on the same wheels that had borne it from one to another of the blood-stained streets of Paris. But the loudest roar of applause went up, telling the distant sky of the triumph of the earth’s redemption, when the gallows185 made its appearance. An ill-looking fellow, however, rushed forward, and, putting himself in the path of the reformers, bellowed186 hoarsely187, and fought with brute188 fury to stay their progress.
It was little matter of surprise, perhaps, that the executioner should thus do his best to vindicate189 and uphold the machinery by which he himself had his livelihood190, and worthier191 individuals their death. But it deserved special note, that men of a far different sphere — even of that class in whose guardianship192 the world is apt to trust its benevolence — were found to take the hangman’s view of the question.
“Stay, my brethren!” cried one of them. “You are misled by a false philanthropy! you know not what you do. The gallows is a Heaven-ordained instrument! Bear it back, then, reverently193, and set it up in its old place; else the world will fall to speedy ruin and desolation!”
“Onward194, onward!” shouted a leader in the reform. “Into the flames with the accursed instrument of man’s bloody195 policy. How can human law inculcate benevolence and love, while it persists in setting up the gallows as its chief symbol! One heave more, good friends, and the world will be redeemed196 from its greatest error!”
A thousand hands, that, nevertheless, loathed197 the touch, now lent their assistance, and thrust the ominous198 burthen far, far, into the centre of the raging furnace. There its fatal and abhorred199 image was beheld, first black, then a red coal, then ashes.
“That was well done!” exclaimed I.
“Yes, it was well done,” replied — but with less enthusiasm than I expected — the thoughtful observer who was still at my side; “well done, if the world be good enough for the measure. Death, however, is an idea that cannot easily be dispensed200 with, in any condition between the primal201 innocence202 and that other purity and perfection, which, perchance, we are destined to attain203 after travelling round the full circle. But, at all events, it is well that the experiment should now be tried.”
“Too cold! too cold!” impatiently exclaimed the young and ardent204 leader in this triumph. “Let the heart have its voice here, as well as the intellect. And as for ripeness — and as for progress — let mankind always do the highest, kindest, noblest thing that, at any given period, it has attained205 the perception of; and surely that thing cannot be wrong, nor wrongly timed.”
I know not whether it were the excitement of the scene, or whether the good people around the bonfire were really growing more enlightened every instant; but they now proceeded to measures, in the full length of which I was hardly prepared to keep them company. For instance, some threw their marriage certificates into the flames, and declared themselves candidates for a higher, holier, and more comprehensive union than that which had subsisted206 from the birth of time, under the form of the connubial207 tie. Others hastened to the vaults208 of banks, and to the coffers of the rich — all of which were open to the first comer, on this fated occasion — and brought entire bales of paper-money to enliven the blaze, and tons of coin to be melted down by its intensity209. Henceforth, they said, universal benevolence, uncoined and exhaustless, was to be the golden currency of the world. At this intelligence, the bankers, and speculators in the stocks, grew pale; and a pickpocket210, who had reaped a rich harvest among the crowd, fell down in a deadly fainting-fit. A few men of business burnt their day-books and ledgers211, the notes and obligations of their creditors212, and all other evidences of debts due to themselves; while perhaps a somewhat larger number satisfied their zeal for reform with the sacrifice of any uncomfortable recollection of their own indebtment. There was then a cry, that the period was arrived when the title-deeds of landed property should be given to the flames, and the whole soil of the earth revert213 to the public, from whom it had been wrongfully abstracted, and most unequally distributed among individuals. Another party demanded that all written constitutions, set forms of government, legislative214 acts, statute-books, and everything else on which human invention had endeavored to stamp its arbitrary laws, should at once be destroyed, leaving the consummated216 world as free as the man first created.
Whether any ultimate action was taken with regard to these propositions, is beyond my knowledge; for, just then, some matters were in progress that concerned my sympathies more nearly.
“See! see! what heaps of books and pamphlets!” cried a fellow, who did not seem to be a lover of literature. “Now we shall have a glorious blaze!”
“That’s just the thing,” said a modern philosopher. “Now we shall get rid of the weight of dead men’s thought, which has hitherto pressed so heavily on the living intellect that it has been incompetent217 to any effectual self-exertion. Well done, my lads! Into the fire with them! Now you are enlightening the world, indeed!”
“But what is to become of the Trade?” cried a frantic218 bookseller.
“Oh, by all means, let them accompany their merchandise,” coolly observed an author. “It will be a noble funeral pile!”
The truth was, that the human race had now reached a stage of progress so far beyond what the wisest and wittiest219 men of former ages had ever dreamed of, that it would have been a manifest absurdity to allow the earth to be any longer encumbered220 with their poor achievements in the literary line. Accordingly, a thorough and searching investigation221 had swept the booksellers’ shops, hawkers’ stands, public and private libraries, and even the little book-shelf by the country fireside, and had brought the world’s entire mass of printed paper, bound or in sheets, to swell222 the already mountain-bulk of our illustrious bonfire. Thick, heavy folios, containing the labors223 of lexicographers, commentators224, and encyclopedists, were flung in, and, falling among the embers with a leaden thump225, smouldered away to ashes, like rotten wood. The small, richly gilt226 French tomes of the last age, with the hundred volumes of Voltaire among them, went off in a brilliant shower of sparkles, and little jets of flame; while the current literature of the same nation burnt red and blue, and threw an infernal light over the visages of the spectators, converting them all to the aspect of parti-colored fiends. A collection of German stories emitted a scent113 of brimstone. The English standard authors made excellent fuel, generally exhibiting the properties of sound oak logs. Milton’s works, in particular, sent up a powerful blaze, gradually reddening into a coal, which promised to endure longer than almost any other material of the pile. From Shakspeare there gushed a flame of such marvellous splendor that men shaded their eyes as against the sun’s meridian227 glory; nor even when the works of his own elucidators were flung upon him did he cease to flash forth a dazzling radiance from beneath the ponderous228 heap. It is my belief that he is still blazing as fervidly229 as ever.
“Could a poet but light a lamp at that glorious flame,” remarked I, “he might then consume the midnight oil to some good purpose.”
“That is the very thing which modern poets have been too apt to do, or at least to attempt,” answered a critic. “The chief benefit to be expected from this conflagration230 of past literature undoubtedly231 is, that writers will henceforth be compelled to light their lamps at the sun or stars.”
“If they can reach so high,” said I. “But that task requires a giant, who may afterward68 distribute the light among inferior men. It is not everyone that can steal the fire from heaven, like Prometheus; but when once he had done the deed, a thousand hearths232 were kindled by it.”
It amazed me much to observe how indefinite was the proportion between the physical mass of any given author, and the property of brilliant and long-continued combustion233. For instance, there was not a quarto volume of the last century — nor, indeed, of the present — that could compete, in that particular, with a child’s little gilt-covered book, containing Mother Goose’s Melodies. The Life and Death of Tom Thumb outlasted234 the biography of Marlborough. An epic235 — indeed, a dozen of them — was converted to white ashes, before the single sheet of an old ballad236 was half consumed. In more than one case, too, when volumes of applauded verse proved incapable237 of anything better than a stifling238 smoke, an unregarded ditty of some nameless bard239 — perchance in the corner of a newspaper — soared up among the stars, with a flame as brilliant as their own. Speaking of the properties of flame, methought Shelley’s poetry emitted a purer light than almost any other productions of his day; contrasting beautifully with the fitful and lurid240 gleams, and gushes241 of black vapor242, that flashed and eddied from the volumes of Lord Byron. As for Tom Moore, some of his songs diffused243 an odor like a burning pastille.
I felt particular interest in watching the combustion of American authors, and scrupulously244 noted245, by my watch, the precise number of moments that changed most of them from shabbily printed books to indistinguishable ashes. It would be invidious, however, if not perilous246, to betray these awful secrets; so that I shall content myself with observing, that it was not invariably the writer most frequent in the public mouth that made the most splendid appearance in the bonfire. I especially remember, that a great deal of excellent inflammability was exhibited in a thin volume of poems by Ellery Channing; although, to speak the truth, there were certain portions that hissed247 and spluttered in a very disagreeable fashion. A curious phenomenon occurred in reference to several writers, native as well as foreign. Their books, though of highly respectable figure, instead of bursting into a blaze, or even smouldering out their substance in smoke, suddenly melted away, in a manner that proved them to be ice.
If it be no lack of modesty248 to mention my own works, it must here be confessed, that I looked for them with fatherly interest, but in vain. Too probably, they were changed to vapor by the first action of the heat; at best, I can only hope that, in their quiet way, they contributed a glimmering249 spark or two to the splendor of the evening.
“Alas! and wo is me!” thus bemoaned250 himself a heavy-looking gentleman in green spectacles. “The world is utterly251 ruined, and there is nothing to live for any longer! The business of my life is snatched from me. Not a volume to be had for love or money!”
“This,” remarked the sedate252 observer beside me, “is a book-worm — one of those men who are born to gnaw253 dead thoughts. His clothes, you see, are covered with the dust of libraries. He has no inward fountain of ideas; and, in good earnest, now that the old stock is abolished, I do not see what is to become of the poor fellow. Have you no word of comfort for him?”
“My dear sir,” said I, to the desperate book-worm, “is not Nature better than a book? is not the human heart deeper than any system of philosophy? is not life replete254 with more instruction than past observers have found it possible to write down in maxims255? Be of good cheer! The great book of Time is still spread wide open before us; and, if we read it aright, it will be to us a volume of eternal Truth.”
“Oh, my books, my books, my precious, printed books!” reiterated256 the forlorn book-worm. “My only reality was a bound volume; and now they will not leave me even a shadowy pamphlet!”
In fact, the last remnant of the literature of all the ages was now descending257 upon the blazing heap, in the shape of a cloud of pamphlets from the press of the New World. These, likewise, were consumed in the twinkling of an eye, leaving the earth, for the first time since the days of Cadmus, free from the plague of letters — an enviable field for the authors of the next generation!
“Well! and does anything remain to be done?” inquired I, somewhat anxiously. “Unless we set fire to the earth itself, and then leap boldly off into infinite space, I know not that we can carry reform to any further point.”
“You are vastly mistaken, my good friend,” said the observer. “Believe me, the fire will not be allowed to settle down without the addition of fuel that will startle many persons, who have lent a willing hand thus far.”
Nevertheless, there appeared to be a relaxation258 of effort, for a little time, during which, probably, the leaders of the movement were considering what should be done next. In the interval259, a philosopher threw his theory into the flames; a sacrifice which, by those who knew how to estimate it, was pronounced the most remarkable260 that had yet been made. The combustion, however, was by no means brilliant. Some indefatigable261 people, scorning to take a moment’s ease, now employed themselves in collecting all the withered leaves and fallen boughs263 of the forest, and thereby264 recruited the bonfire to a greater height than ever. But this was mere12 by-play.
“Here comes the fresh fuel that I spoke of,” said my companion.
To my astonishment, the persons who now advanced into the vacant space around the mountain fire, bore surplices and other priestly garments, mitres, crosiers, and a confusion of Popish and Protestant emblems, with which it seemed their purpose to consummate215 the great Act of Faith. Crosses, from the spires265 of old cathedrals, were cast upon the heap with as little remorse266 as if the reverence267 of centuries, passing in long array beneath the lofty towers, had not looked up to them as the holiest of symbols. The font, in which infants were consecrated268 to God; the sacramental vessels, whence Piety269 received the hallowed draught270; were given to the same destruction. Perhaps it most nearly touched my heart to see, among these devoted271 relics272, fragments of the humble273 communion-tables and undecorated pulpits, which I recognized as having been torn from the meeting-houses of New England. Those simple edifices274 might have been permitted to retain all of sacred embellishment that their Puritan founders had bestowed276, even though the mighty structure of St. Peter’s had sent its spoils to the fire of this terrible sacrifice. Yet I felt that these were but the externals of religion, and might most safely be relinquished277 by spirits that best knew their deep significance.
“All is well,” said I cheerfully. “The wood-paths shall be the aisles278 of our cathedral — the firmament itself shall be its ceiling! What needs an earthly roof between the Deity279 and his worshippers? Our faith can well afford to lose all the drapery that even the holiest men have thrown around it, and be only the more sublime280 in its simplicity281.”
“True,” said my companion. “But will they pause here?”
The doubt implied in his question was well founded. In the general destruction of books already described, a holy volume — that stood apart from the catalogue of human literature, and yet, in one sense, was at its head — had been spared. But the Titan of innovation — angel or fiend, double in his nature, and capable of deeds befitting both characters — at first shaking down only the old and rotten shapes of things, had now, as it appeared, laid his terrible hand upon the main pillars which supported the whole edifice275 of our moral and spiritual state. The inhabitants of the earth had grown too enlightened to define their faith within a form of words, or to limit the spiritual by any analogy to our material existence. Truths, which the heavens trembled at, were now but a fable282 of the world’s infancy. Therefore, as the final sacrifice of human error, what else remained to be thrown upon the embers of that awful pile, except the Book, which, though a celestial283 revelation to past ages, was but a voice from a lower sphere, as regarded the present race of man? It was done! Upon the blazing heap of falsehood and worn-out truth — things that the earth had never needed, or had ceased to need, or had grown childishly weary of — fell the ponderous church Bible, the great old volume, that had lain so long on the cushion of the pulpit, and whence the pastor’s solemn voice had given holy utterance284 on so many a Sabbath day. There, likewise, fell the family Bible, which the long buried patriarch had read to his children — in prosperity or sorrow, by the fireside and in the summer shade of trees — and had bequeathed downward, as the heir-loom of generations. There fell the bosom Bible, the little volume that had been the soul’s friend of some sorely tried child of dust, who thence took courage, whether his trial were for life or death, steadfastly285 confronting both in the strong assurance of immortality286.
All these were flung into the fierce and riotous287 blaze; and then a mighty wind came roaring across the plain, with a desolate288 howl, as if it were the angry lamentations of the Earth for the loss of Heaven’s sunshine, and it shook the gigantic pyramid of flame, and scattered289 the cinders290 of half-consumed abominations around upon the spectators.
“This is terrible!” said I, feeling that my cheek grew pale, and seeing a like change in the visages about me.
“Be of good courage yet,” answered the man with whom I had so often spoken. He continued to gaze steadily292 at the spectacle, with a singular calmness, as if it concerned him merely as an observer. “Be of good courage — nor yet exult87 too much; for there is far less both of good and evil, in the effect of this bonfire, than the world might be willing to believe.”
“How can that be?” exclaimed I impatiently. “Has it not consumed everything? Has it not swallowed up, or melted down, every human or divine appendage293 of our mortal state that had substance enough to be acted on by fire? Will there be anything left us tomorrow morning, better or worse than a heap of embers and ashes?”
“Assuredly there will,” said my grave friend. “Come hither tomorrow morning — or whenever the combustible21 portion of the pile shall be quite burnt out — and you will find among the ashes everything really valuable that you have seen cast into the flames. Trust me, the world of tomorrow will again enrich itself with the gold and diamonds which have been cast off by the world of today. Not a truth is destroyed — nor buried so deep among the ashes, but it will be raked up at last.”
This was a strange assurance. Yet I felt inclined to credit it; the more especially as I beheld among the wallowing flames a copy of the Holy Scriptures294, the pages of which, instead of being blackened into tinder, only assumed a more dazzling whiteness as the finger-marks of human imperfection were purified away. Certain marginal notes and commentaries, it is true, yielded to the intensity of the fiery295 test, but without detriment296 to the smallest syllable297 that had flamed from the pen of inspiration.
“Yes — there is the proof of what you say,” answered I, turning to the observer. “ But if only what is evil can feel the action of the fire, then, surely, the conflagration has been of inestimable utility. Yet if I understand aright, you intimate a doubt whether the world’s expectation of benefit would be realized by it.”
“Listen to the talk of these worthies,” said he, pointing to a group in front of the blazing pile. “Possibly they may teach you something useful, without intending it.”
The persons whom he indicated consisted of that brutal298 and most earthy figure who had stood forth so furiously in defence of the gallows — the hangman, in short — together with the last thief and the last murderer; all three of whom were clustered about the last toper. The latter was liberally passing the brandy bottle, which he had rescued from the general destruction of wines and spirits. The little convivial299 party seemed at the lowest pitch of despondency; as considering that the purified world must needs be utterly unlike the sphere that they had hitherto known, and therefore but a strange and desolate abode300 for gentlemen of their kidney.
“The best counsel for all of us is,” remarked the hangman, “that — as soon as we have finished the last drop of liqour — I help you, my three friends, to a comfortable end upon the nearest tree, and then hang myself on the same bough262. This is no world for us any longer.”
“Poh, poh, my good fellows!” said a dark-complexioned personage, who now joined the group — his complexion301 was indeed fearfully dark, and his eyes glowed with a redder light than that of the bonfire — “Be not so cast down, my dear friends; you shall see good days yet. There is one thing that these wiseacres have forgotten to throw into the fire, and without which all the rest of the conflagration is just nothing at all; yes — though they had burnt the earth itself to a cinder291.”
“And what may that be?” eagerly demanded the last murderer.
“What but the human heart itself!” said the dark-visaged stranger, with a portentous302 grin. “And unless they hit upon some method of purifying that foul303 cavern304, forth from it will reissue all the shapes of wrong and misery305 — the same old shapes, or worse ones — which they have taken such a vast deal of trouble to consume to ashes. I have stood by, this live-long night, and laughed in my sleeve at the whole business. Oh, take my word for it, it will be the old world yet!”
This brief conversation supplied me with a theme for lengthened306 thought. How sad a truth — if true it were — that Man’s age-long endeavor for perfection had served only to render him the mockery of the Evil Principle, from the fatal circumstance of an error at the very root of the matter! The heart — the heart — there was the little yet boundless sphere, wherein existed the original wrong, of which the crime and misery of this outward world were merely types. Purify that inward sphere; and the many shapes of evil that haunt the outward, and which now seem almost our only realities, will turn to shadowy phantoms307, and vanish of their own accord. But if we go no deeper than the Intellect, and strive, with merely that feeble instrument, to discern and rectify308 what is wrong, our whole accomplishment309 will be a dream; so unsubstantial, that it matters little whether the bonfire, which I have so faithfully described, were what we choose to call a real event, and a flame that would scorch79 the finger — or only a phosphoric radiance, and a parable310 of my own brain!
点击收听单词发音
1 trumpery | |
n.无价值的杂物;adj.(物品)中看不中用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 commodiously | |
adv.宽阔地,方便地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 profundity | |
n.渊博;深奥,深刻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 boundless | |
adj.无限的;无边无际的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 firmament | |
n.苍穹;最高层 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 aprons | |
围裙( apron的名词复数 ); 停机坪,台口(舞台幕前的部份) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 lumbering | |
n.采伐林木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 wagons | |
n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 );铁路货车;小手推车 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 kindle | |
v.点燃,着火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 kindling | |
n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 combustible | |
a. 易燃的,可燃的; n. 易燃物,可燃物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 antiquated | |
adj.陈旧的,过时的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 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: |
|
|
25 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 crests | |
v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的第三人称单数 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 paltry | |
adj.无价值的,微不足道的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 bauble | |
n.美观而无价值的饰物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 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: |
|
|
32 entangled | |
adj.卷入的;陷入的;被缠住的;缠在一起的v.使某人(某物/自己)缠绕,纠缠于(某物中),使某人(自己)陷入(困难或复杂的环境中)( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 hereditary | |
adj.遗传的,遗传性的,可继承的,世袭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 barons | |
男爵( baron的名词复数 ); 巨头; 大王; 大亨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 grandees | |
n.贵族,大公,显贵者( grandee的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 conqueror | |
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 gushed | |
v.喷,涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 );滔滔不绝地说话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 eddied | |
起漩涡,旋转( eddy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 plebeian | |
adj.粗俗的;平民的;n.平民;庶民 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 joyous | |
adj.充满快乐的;令人高兴的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 wrenched | |
v.(猛力地)扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 );扭伤;使感到痛苦;使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 wrench | |
v.猛拧;挣脱;使扭伤;n.扳手;痛苦,难受 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 demeanor | |
n.行为;风度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 habitual | |
adj.习惯性的;通常的,惯常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 chivalrous | |
adj.武士精神的;对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 sculptor | |
n.雕刻家,雕刻家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 insignificance | |
n.不重要;无价值;无意义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 spurning | |
v.一脚踢开,拒绝接受( spurn的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 muse | |
n.缪斯(希腊神话中的女神),创作灵感 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 royalty | |
n.皇家,皇族 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 baubles | |
n.小玩意( bauble的名词复数 );华而不实的小件装饰品;无价值的东西;丑角的手杖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 chastise | |
vt.责骂,严惩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 stature | |
n.(高度)水平,(高度)境界,身高,身材 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 potentates | |
n.君主,统治者( potentate的名词复数 );有权势的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 potent | |
adj.强有力的,有权势的;有效力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 lustre | |
n.光亮,光泽;荣誉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 splendor | |
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 monarchy | |
n.君主,最高统治者;君主政体,君主国 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 mantle | |
n.斗篷,覆罩之物,罩子;v.罩住,覆盖,脸红 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 singed | |
v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 );(毛发)燎,烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 votaries | |
n.信徒( votary的名词复数 );追随者;(天主教)修士;修女 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 disciples | |
n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 );门徒;耶稣的信徒;(尤指)耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 vessels | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 frenzied | |
a.激怒的;疯狂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 aggregate | |
adj.总计的,集合的;n.总数;v.合计;集合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 scorched | |
烧焦,烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(植物)枯萎,把…晒枯; 高速行驶; 枯焦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 scorch | |
v.烧焦,烤焦;高速疾驶;n.烧焦处,焦痕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 quaffed | |
v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 );畅饮;大口大口将…喝干;一饮而尽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 pampered | |
adj.饮食过量的,饮食奢侈的v.纵容,宠,娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 mellowed | |
(使)成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 ); 使色彩更加柔和,使酒更加醇香 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 hoarded | |
v.积蓄并储藏(某物)( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 recesses | |
n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 );(工作或业务活动的)中止或暂停期间;学校的课间休息;某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 );将(墙)做成凹形,在(墙)上做壁龛;休息,休会,休庭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 mingling | |
adj.混合的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 spire | |
n.(教堂)尖顶,尖塔,高点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 exult | |
v.狂喜,欢腾;欢欣鼓舞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 exulting | |
vi. 欢欣鼓舞,狂喜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 hearth | |
n.壁炉炉床,壁炉地面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 solace | |
n.安慰;v.使快乐;vt.安慰(物),缓和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 harangue | |
n.慷慨冗长的训话,言辞激烈的讲话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 preposterous | |
adj.荒谬的,可笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 commiserating | |
v.怜悯,同情( commiserate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 dwindled | |
v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 sip | |
v.小口地喝,抿,呷;n.一小口的量 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 sipping | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 filch | |
v.偷窃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 fermented | |
v.(使)发酵( ferment的过去式和过去分词 );(使)激动;骚动;骚扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 replenish | |
vt.补充;(把…)装满;(再)填满 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 aggregated | |
a.聚合的,合计的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 incensed | |
盛怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 fragrance | |
n.芬芳,香味,香气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 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: |
|
|
108 systematic | |
adj.有系统的,有计划的,有方法的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 counterfeit | |
vt.伪造,仿造;adj.伪造的,假冒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 bonnets | |
n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 );(烟囱等的)覆盖物;(苏格兰男子的)无边呢帽;(女子戴的)任何一种帽子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 ware | |
n.(常用复数)商品,货物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 sonnets | |
n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 hack | |
n.劈,砍,出租马车;v.劈,砍,干咳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 repudiated | |
v.(正式地)否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 );拒绝接受;拒绝与…往来;拒不履行(法律义务) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 fortified | |
adj. 加强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 manliness | |
刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 epoch | |
n.(新)时代;历元 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 apothecary | |
n.药剂师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 garb | |
n.服装,装束 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 wrecked | |
adj.失事的,遇难的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 abide | |
vi.遵守;坚持;vt.忍受 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 blotted | |
涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 ); (用吸墨纸)吸干 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 rumored | |
adj.传说的,谣传的v.传闻( rumor的过去式和过去分词 );[古]名誉;咕哝;[古]喧嚷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 munitions | |
n.军火,弹药;v.供应…军需品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 gunpowder | |
n.火药 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 awaken | |
vi.醒,觉醒;vt.唤醒,使觉醒,唤起,激起 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 esteemed | |
adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 );敬重;认为;以为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 millennium | |
n.一千年,千禧年;太平盛世 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 prophesied | |
v.预告,预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 stoutness | |
坚固,刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 fervor | |
n.热诚;热心;炽热 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 nourishment | |
n.食物,营养品;营养情况 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 abolition | |
n.废除,取消 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 artillery | |
n.(军)火炮,大炮;炮兵(部队) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 adverse | |
adj.不利的;有害的;敌对的,不友好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 cannon | |
n.大炮,火炮;飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 slaughter | |
n.屠杀,屠宰;vt.屠杀,宰杀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 muskets | |
n.火枪,(尤指)滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 tattered | |
adj.破旧的,衣衫破的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 inscribed | |
v.写,刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 );内接 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 victorious | |
adj.胜利的,得胜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 rust | |
n.锈;v.生锈;(脑子)衰退 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 trophies | |
n.(为竞赛获胜者颁发的)奖品( trophy的名词复数 );奖杯;(尤指狩猎或战争中获得的)纪念品;(用于比赛或赛跑名称)奖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 armories | |
n.纹章( armory的名词复数 );纹章学;兵工厂;军械库 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 trumpets | |
喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 ); 小号; 喇叭形物; (尤指)绽开的水仙花 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 brayed | |
v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的过去式和过去分词 );发嘟嘟声;粗声粗气地讲话(或大笑);猛击 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 prelude | |
n.序言,前兆,序曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 contention | |
n.争论,争辩,论战;论点,主张 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 valor | |
n.勇气,英勇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 promulgated | |
v.宣扬(某事物)( promulgate的过去式和过去分词 );传播;公布;颁布(法令、新法律等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 absurdity | |
n.荒谬,愚蠢;谬论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 grumbled | |
抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 ); 发牢骚; 咕哝; 发哼声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 founders | |
n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 sneer | |
v.轻蔑;嘲笑;n.嘲笑,讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 benevolence | |
n.慈悲,捐助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 requisite | |
adj.需要的,必不可少的;n.必需品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 warrior | |
n.勇士,武士,斗士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 replenished | |
补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 ); 重新装满 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 well-being | |
n.安康,安乐,幸福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 inflict | |
vt.(on)把…强加给,使遭受,使承担 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 emblems | |
n.象征,标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 implements | |
n.工具( implement的名词复数 );家具;手段;[法律]履行(契约等)v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 );执行;贯彻;使生效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 mechanism | |
n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 contrive | |
vt.谋划,策划;设法做到;设计,想出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 lurked | |
vi.潜伏,埋伏(lurk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 gallows | |
n.绞刑架,绞台 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 bellowed | |
v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的过去式和过去分词 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 hoarsely | |
adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 vindicate | |
v.为…辩护或辩解,辩明;证明…正确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 livelihood | |
n.生计,谋生之道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 worthier | |
应得某事物( worthy的比较级 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 guardianship | |
n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 reverently | |
adv.虔诚地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 redeemed | |
adj. 可赎回的,可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 loathed | |
v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 );极不喜欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 abhorred | |
v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 );(厌恶地)回避;拒绝;淘汰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 dispensed | |
v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 );施与;配(药) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 primal | |
adj.原始的;最重要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 subsisted | |
v.(靠很少的钱或食物)维持生活,生存下去( subsist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 connubial | |
adj.婚姻的,夫妇的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 vaults | |
n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 );地下室;撑物跳高;墓穴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 intensity | |
n.强烈,剧烈;强度;烈度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 pickpocket | |
n.扒手;v.扒窃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 ledgers | |
n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 creditors | |
n.债权人,债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 revert | |
v.恢复,复归,回到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 legislative | |
n.立法机构,立法权;adj.立法的,有立法权的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 consummate | |
adj.完美的;v.成婚;使完美 [反]baffle | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 consummated | |
v.使结束( consummate的过去式和过去分词 );使完美;完婚;(婚礼后的)圆房 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 incompetent | |
adj.无能力的,不能胜任的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 wittiest | |
机智的,言辞巧妙的,情趣横生的( witty的最高级 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 encumbered | |
v.妨碍,阻碍,拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 labors | |
v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 commentators | |
n.评论员( commentator的名词复数 );时事评论员;注释者;实况广播员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 thump | |
v.重击,砰然地响;n.重击,重击声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 gilt | |
adj.镀金的;n.金边证券 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 meridian | |
adj.子午线的;全盛期的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 fervidly | |
adv.热情地,激情地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 conflagration | |
n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
232 hearths | |
壁炉前的地板,炉床,壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
233 combustion | |
n.燃烧;氧化;骚动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
234 outlasted | |
v.比…长久,比…活得长( outlast的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
235 epic | |
n.史诗,叙事诗;adj.史诗般的,壮丽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
236 ballad | |
n.歌谣,民谣,流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
237 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
238 stifling | |
a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
239 bard | |
n.吟游诗人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
240 lurid | |
adj.可怕的;血红的;苍白的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
241 gushes | |
n.涌出,迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷,涌( gush的第三人称单数 );滔滔不绝地说话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
242 vapor | |
n.蒸汽,雾气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
243 diffused | |
散布的,普及的,扩散的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
244 scrupulously | |
adv.一丝不苟地;小心翼翼地,多顾虑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
245 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
246 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
247 hissed | |
发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 ); 发嘘声表示反对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
248 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
249 glimmering | |
n.微光,隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光,发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
250 bemoaned | |
v.为(某人或某事)抱怨( bemoan的过去式和过去分词 );悲悼;为…恸哭;哀叹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
251 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
252 sedate | |
adj.沉着的,镇静的,安静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
253 gnaw | |
v.不断地啃、咬;使苦恼,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
254 replete | |
adj.饱满的,塞满的;n.贮蜜蚁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
255 maxims | |
n.格言,座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
256 reiterated | |
反复地说,重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
257 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
258 relaxation | |
n.松弛,放松;休息;消遣;娱乐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
259 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
260 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
261 indefatigable | |
adj.不知疲倦的,不屈不挠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
262 bough | |
n.大树枝,主枝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
263 boughs | |
大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
264 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
265 spires | |
n.(教堂的) 塔尖,尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
266 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
267 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: |
|
|
268 consecrated | |
adj.神圣的,被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣,给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 );奉献 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
269 piety | |
n.虔诚,虔敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
270 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
271 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
272 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
273 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
274 edifices | |
n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
275 edifice | |
n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿,教室) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
276 bestowed | |
赠给,授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
277 relinquished | |
交出,让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 ); 放弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
278 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
279 deity | |
n.神,神性;被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
280 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
281 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
282 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
283 celestial | |
adj.天体的;天上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
284 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
285 steadfastly | |
adv.踏实地,不变地;岿然;坚定不渝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
286 immortality | |
n.不死,不朽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
287 riotous | |
adj.骚乱的;狂欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
288 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
289 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
290 cinders | |
n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 );炭渣;煤渣路;煤渣跑道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
291 cinder | |
n.余烬,矿渣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
292 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
293 appendage | |
n.附加物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
294 scriptures | |
经文,圣典( scripture的名词复数 ); 经典 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
295 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
296 detriment | |
n.损害;损害物,造成损害的根源 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
297 syllable | |
n.音节;vt.分音节 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
298 brutal | |
adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
299 convivial | |
adj.狂欢的,欢乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
300 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
301 complexion | |
n.肤色;情况,局面;气质,性格 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
302 portentous | |
adj.不祥的,可怕的,装腔作势的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
303 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
304 cavern | |
n.洞穴,大山洞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
305 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
306 lengthened | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
307 phantoms | |
n.鬼怪,幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
308 rectify | |
v.订正,矫正,改正 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
309 accomplishment | |
n.完成,成就,(pl.)造诣,技能 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
310 parable | |
n.寓言,比喻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |