It is not true to say that this is a war between the rival principles of democracy and autocracy1. A too great absorption in our own particular sector2 of the situation has led certain writers to put forward, as a general explanation, this formula which is not only inadequate3, but misleading. The real issue is something wider and deeper than a struggle between forms of government. It is concerned with the groundwork of human beliefs.
And yet it is unquestionably true to say, that by reason of Germany's procedure, this war is being waged against democracy—not perhaps by intention, but certainly in effect. For if the Allies should be defeated, or even if they should fail to conquer their present enemies, the result must necessarily be wounding to the credit of popular institutions all the world over, fatal to their existence in Europe at any rate, fatal conceivably at no long distance of time to their existence elsewhere than in Europe. For mankind, we may be sure, is not going to put up with any kind of government merely because it is ideally beautiful. No system will be tolerated {182} indefinitely which does not enable the people who live under it to protect themselves from their enemies. The instinct of self-preservation will drive them to seek for some other political arrangement which is competent, in the present imperfect condition of the world, to provide the first essential of a state, which is Security.
But although the whole fabric4 of democracy is threatened by this war, the principle of autocracy is not challenged by it either directly or indirectly5. France and England are not fighting against personal monarchy7 any more than Russia is fighting against popular government. So far as the forms of constitutions are concerned each of the Allies would be well content to live and let live. They are none of them spurred on by propagandist illusions like the armies of the First Republic. Among Russians, devotion to their own institutions, and attachment8 to the person of their Emperor are inspired not merely by dictates9 of political expediency10 and patriotism11, but also by their sense of religious duty.[1] It is inconceivable that the national spirit of Russia could ever have been roused to universal enthusiasm merely in order to fight the battles of democracy. And yet Russia is now ranged side by side with the French Republic and the British Commonwealth12 in perfect unison13. What has induced her to submit to sacrifices—less indeed than those of Belgium, but equal to those of France, and much greater so far than our own—unless some issue was at stake wider and deeper even than the future of popular government?
The instincts of a people are vague and obscure. The reasons which are put forward, the motives14 {183} which appear upon the surface, the provocations16 which lead to action, the immediate17 ends which are sought after and pursued, rarely explain the true causes or proportions of any great national struggle. But for all that, the main issue, as a rule, is realised by the masses who are engaged, although it is not realised through the medium of coherent argument or articulate speech.
The present war is a fight, not between democracy and autocracy, but between the modern spirit of Germany and the unchanging spirit of civilisation18. And it is well to bear in mind that the second of these is not invincible19. It has suffered defeat before now, at various epochs in the world's history, when attacked by the same forces which assail21 it to-day. Barbarism is not any the less barbarism because it employs weapons of precision, because it avails itself of the discoveries of science and the mechanism22 of finance, or because it thinks it worth while to hire bands of learned men to shriek23 p?ans in its praise and invectives against its victims. Barbarism is not any the less barbarism because its methods are up to date. It is known for what it is by the ends which it pursues and the spirit in which it pursues them.
GERMAN MATERIALISM24
The modern spirit of Germany is materialism in its crudest form—the undistracted pursuit of wealth, and of power as a means to wealth. It is materialism, rampant25 and self-confident, fostered by the state—subsidised, regulated, and, where thought advisable, controlled by the state—supported everywhere by the diplomatic resources of the state—backed in the last resort by the fleets and armies of the state. It is the most highly organised machine, {184} the most deliberate and thorough-going system, for arriving at material ends which has ever yet been devised by man. It is far more efficient, but not a whit27 less material, than 'Manchesterism' of the Victorian era, which placed its hopes in 'free' competition, and also than that later development of trusts and syndicates—hailing from America—which aims at levying28 tribute on society by means of 'voluntary' co-operation. And just as the English professors, who fell prostrate29 in adoration30 before the prosperity of cotton-spinners, found no difficulty in placing self-interest upon the loftiest pedestal of morality, so German professors have succeeded in erecting31 for the joint32 worship of the Golden Calf33 and the War-god Wotun, high twin altars which look down with pity and contempt upon the humbler shrines34 of the Christian35 faith.
The morality made in Manchester has long ago lost its reputation. That which has been made in Germany more recently must in the end follow suit; for, like its predecessor36, it is founded upon a false conception of human nature and cannot endure. But in the interval37, if it be allowed to triumph, it may work evil, in comparison with which that done by our own devil-take-the-hindmost philosophers sinks into insignificance38.
WANT OF A NATIONAL POLICY
Looking at the present war from the standpoint of the Allies, the object of it is to repel39 the encroachments of materialism, working its way through the ruin of ideas, which have been cherished always, save in the dark ages when civilisation was overwhelmed by barbarism. Looking at the matter from our own particular standpoint, it is also incidentally a struggle for the existence of democracy. The chief question {185} we have to ask ourselves is whether our people will fight for their faith and traditions with the same skill and courage as the Germans for their material ends? Will they endure sacrifices with the same fortitude40 as France and Russia? Will they face the inevitable41 eagerly and promptly42, or will they play the laggard43 and by delay ruin all—themselves most of all? ... This war is not going to be won for us by other people, or by some miraculous44 intervention45 of Providence46, or by the Germans running short of copper47, or by revolutions in Berlin, nor even by the break-up of the Austrian Empire. In order to win it we shall have to put out our full strength, to organise26 our resources in men and material as we have never done before during the whole of our history. We have not accomplished48 these things as yet, although we have expressed our determination, and are indeed willing to attempt them. We were taken by surprise, and the immediate result has been a great confusion, very hard to disentangle.
Considering how little, before war began, our people had been taken into the confidence of successive governments, as to the relations of the British Empire with the outside world; how little education of opinion there had been, as to risks, and dangers, and means of defence; how little leading and clear guidance, both before and since, as to duties—considering all these omissions49 one can only marvel50 that the popular response has been what it is, and that the confusion was not many times worse.
What was the mood of the British race when this war broke upon them so unexpectedly? To what extent were they provided against it in a material sense? And still more important, how far were {186} their minds and hearts prepared to encounter it? It is important to understand those things, but in order to do this it is necessary to look back over a few years.
By a coincidence which may prove convenient to historians, the end of the nineteenth century marked the beginning of a new epoch20[2]—an interlude, of brief duration as it proved—upon which the curtain was rung down shortly before midnight on the 4th of August 1914.
Between these two dates, in a space of something over thirteen years, events had happened in a quick succession, both within the empire and abroad, which disturbed or dissolved many ancient understandings. The spirit of change had been busy with mankind, and needs unknown to a former generation had grown clamorous52. Objects of hope had presented themselves, driving old ideas to the wall, and unforeseen dangers had produced fresh groupings, compacts, and associations between states, and parties, and individual men.
In Europe during this period the manifest determination of Germany to challenge the naval53 supremacy54 of Britain, by the creation of a fleet designed and projected as the counterpart of her overwhelming army, had threatened the security of the whole continent, and had put France, Russia, and England upon terms not far removed from those of an alliance. The gravity of this emergency had induced our politicians to exclude, for the time being, this department of public affairs from the bitterness of their party struggles; and it had also drawn55 {187} the governments of the United Kingdom and the Dominions56 into relations closer than ever before, for the purpose of mutual57 defence.[3]
DEVELOPMENTS IN THE EAST
In the meanwhile there had been developments even more startling in the hitherto unchanging East. Japan, as the result of a great war,[4] had become a first-class power, redoubtable58 both by sea and land. China, the most populous59, the most ancient, and the most conservative of despotisms, had suddenly sought her salvation60 under the milder institutions of a republic.[5]
The South African war, ended by the Peace of Pretoria, had paved the way for South African union.[6] The achievement of this endeavour had been applauded by men of all parties; some finding in it a welcome confirmation61 of their theories with regard to liberty and self-government; others again drawing from it encouragement to a still bolder undertaking62. For if South Africa had made a precedent64, the existing state of the world had supplied a motive15, for the closer union of the empire.
Within the narrower limits of the United Kingdom changes had also occurred within this period which, from another point of view, were equally momentous65. In 1903 Mr. Chamberlain had poured new wine into old bottles, and in so doing had hastened the inevitable end of unionist predominance by changing on a sudden the direction of party policy. In the unparalleled defeat which ensued two and a half years later the Labour party appeared for the first time, formidable both in numbers and ideas.
A revolution had likewise been proceeding67 in {188} our institutions as well as in the minds of our people. The balance of the state had been shifted by a curtailment68 of the powers of the House of Lords[7]—the first change which had been made by statute69 in the fundamental principle of the Constitution since the passing of the Act of Settlement.[8] In July 1914 further changes of a similar character, hardly less important under a practical aspect, were upon the point of receiving the Royal Assent70.[9]
Both these sets of changes—that which had been already accomplished and the other which was about to pass into law—had this in common, that even upon the admissions of their own authors they were incomplete. Neither in the Parliament Act nor in the Home Rule Act was there finality. The composition of the Second Chamber66 had been set down for early consideration, whilst a revision of the constitutional relations between England, Scotland, and Wales was promised so soon as the case of Ireland had been dealt with.
It seemed as if the modern spirit had at last, in earnest, opened an inquisition upon the adequacy of our ancient unwritten compact, which upon the whole, had served its purpose well for upwards71 of two hundred years. It seemed as if that compact were in the near future to be tested thoroughly72, and examined in respect of its fitness for dealing73 with the needs of the time—with the complexities74 and the vastness of the British Empire—with the evils which prey75 upon us from within, and with the dangers which threaten us from without.
Questioners were not drawn from one party alone. {189} They were pressing forwards from all sides. It was not merely the case of Ireland, or the powers of the Second Chamber, or its composition, or the general congestion76 of business, or the efficiency of the House of Commons: it was the whole machinery77 of government which seemed to need overhauling78 and reconsideration in the light of new conditions. Most important of all these constitutional issues was that which concerned the closer union of the Empire.
CONSTITUTIONAL CHANGES
It was little more than eighty years since the Iron Duke had described the British Constitution as an incomparably devised perfection which none but a madman would seek to change. That was not now the creed79 of any political party or indeed of any thinking man. No one was satisfied with things as they were. Many of the most respectable old phrases had become known for empty husks, out of which long since had dropped whatever seed they may originally have contained. Many of the old traditions were dead or sickly, and their former adherents80 were now wandering at large, like soldiers in the middle ages, when armies were disbanded in foreign parts, seeking a new allegiance, and constituting in the meanwhile a danger to security and the public peace.
And also, within this brief period, the highest offices had become vacant, and many great figures had passed from the scene. Two sovereigns had died full of honour. Two Prime Ministers had also died, having first put off the burden of office, each at the zenith of his popularity. Of the two famous men upon the unionist side who remained when Lord Salisbury tendered his resignation, the one since 1906 had been wholly withdrawn82 from public life, {190} while the other, four years later, had passed the leadership into younger hands.[10]
There is room for an almost infinite variety of estimate as to the influence which is exercised by pre-eminent characters upon public affairs and national ideals. The verdict of the day after is always different from that of a year after. The verdict of the next generation, while differing from both, is apt to be markedly different from that of the generation which follows it. The admiration83 or censure84 of the moment is followed by a reaction no less surely than the reaction itself is followed by a counter-reaction. Gradually the oscillations become shorter, as matters pass out of the hands of journalists and politicians into those of the historian. Possibly later judgments86 are more true. We have more knowledge, of a kind. Seals are broken one by one, and we learn how this man really thought and how the other acted, in both cases differently from what had been supposed. We have new facts submitted to us, and possibly come nearer the truth. But while we gain so much, we also lose in other directions. We lose the sharp savour of the air. The keen glance and alert curiosity of contemporary vigilance are lacking. Conditions and circumstances are no longer clear, and as generation after generation passes away they become more dim. The narratives87 of the great historians and novelists are to a large extent either faded or false. We do not trust the most vivid presentments written by the man of genius in his study a century after the event, while we know well that even the shrewdest of contemporaneous observers is certain to omit many {191} of the essentials. If Macaulay is inadequate in one direction, Pepys is equally inadequate in another. And if the chronicler at the moment, and the historian in the future are not to be wholly believed, the writer who comments after a decade or less upon things which are fresh in his memory is liable to another form of error; for either he is swept away by the full current of the reaction, or else his judgments are embittered88 by a sense of the hopelessness of swimming against it.
DEATH OF QUEEN VICTORIA
This much, however, may be said safely—that the withdrawal89 of any pre-eminent character from the scene, whether it be Queen Victoria or King Edward, Lord Salisbury or Mr. Chamberlain, produces in a greater or less degree that same loosening of allegiance and disturbance90 of ideas, which are so much dreaded91 by the conservative temperament92 from the removal of an ancient institution. For a pre-eminent character is of the same nature as an institution. The beliefs, loyalties93, and ideals of millions were attached to the personality of the Queen. The whole of that prestige which Queen Victoria drew from the awe94, reverence95, affection, and prayers of her people could not be passed along with the crown to King Edward. The office of sovereign was for the moment stripped and impoverished96 of some part of its strength, and was only gradually replenished97 as the new monarch6 created a new, and to some extent a different, loyalty98 of his own. So much is a truism. But, when there is already a ferment99 in men's minds, the disappearance100 in rapid succession of the pre-eminent characters of the age helps on revolution by putting an end to a multitude of customary attachments101, and by setting sentiments adrift to wander in search of new heroes.
{192}
A change of some importance had also come over the character of the House of Commons. The old idea that it was a kind of grand jury of plain men, capable in times of crisis of breaking with their parties, had at last finally disappeared. In politics there was no longer any place for plain men. The need was for professionals, and professionals of this sort, like experts in other walks of life, were worthy102 of their hire.
The decision to pay members of Parliament came as no surprise. The marvel was rather that it had not been taken at an earlier date, seeing that for considerably103 more than a century this item had figured in the programmes of all advanced reformers. The change, nevertheless, when it came, was no trivial occurrence, but one which was bound fundamentally to affect the character of the popular assembly; whether for better or worse was a matter of dispute.
Immense, however, as were the possibilities contained in the conversion104 of unpaid105 amateurs into professional and stipendiary politicians, what excited even more notice at the time than the thing itself, were the means by which it was accomplished. No attempt was made to place this great constitutional reform definitely and securely upon the statute book. To have followed this course would have meant submitting a bill, and a bill would have invited discussion at all its various stages. Moreover, the measure might have been challenged by the House of Lords, in which case delay would have ensued; and a subject, peculiarly susceptible107 to malicious108 misrepresentation, would have been kept—possibly for so long as three years—under the critical eyes of public opinion. {193} Apparently109 this beneficent proposal was one of those instances, so rare in modern political life, where neither publicity110 nor advertisement was sought. On the contrary, the object seemed to be to do good by stealth; and for this purpose a simple financial resolution was all that the law required. The Lords had recently been warned off and forbidden to interfere111 with money matters, their judgment85 being under suspicion, owing to its supposed liability to be affected112 by motives of self-interest. The House of Commons was therefore sole custodian113 of the public purse; and in this capacity its members were invited to vote themselves four hundred pounds a year all round, as the shortest and least ostentatious way of raising the character and improving the quality of the people's representatives.
CHANGE IN HOUSE OF COMMONS
Even by July 1914 the effect of this constitutional amendment114 upon our old political traditions had become noticeable in various directions. But the means by which it was accomplished are no less worthy of note than the reform itself, when we are endeavouring to estimate the changes which have come over Parliament during this short but revolutionary epoch. The method adopted seemed to indicate a novel attitude on the part of members of the House of Commons towards the Imperial Exchequer115, on the part of the Government towards members of the House of Commons, and on the part of both towards the people whom they trusted. It was adroit116, expeditious117, and businesslike; and to this extent seemed to promise well for years to come, when the professionals should have finally got rid of the amateurs, and taken things wholly into their own hands. Hostile critics, it is true, denounced the {194} reform bluntly as corruption118, and the method of its achievement as furtive119 and cynical120; but for this class of persons no slander121 is ever too gross—They have said. Quhat say they? Let them be saying.
The party leaders were probably neither worse men nor better than they had been in the past; but they were certainly smaller; while on the other hand the issues with which they found themselves confronted were bigger.
Great characters are like tent-pegs. One of their uses is to prevent the political camp from being blown to ribbons. Where they are too short or too frail122, we may look for such disorders123 as have repeated themselves at intervals124 during the past few years. A blast of anger or ill-temper has blown, or a gust51 of sentiment, or even a gentle zephyr125 of sentimentality, and the whole scene has at once become a confusion of flapping canvas, tangled126 cordage, and shouting, struggling humanity. Such unstable127 conditions are fatal to equanimity128; they disturb the fortitude of the most stalwart follower129, and cause doubt and distrust on every hand.
Since the Liberal Government came into power in the autumn of 1905, neither of the great parties had succeeded in earning the respect of the other; and as the nature of man is not subject to violent fluctuations130, it may safely be concluded that this misfortune had been due either to some defect or inadequacy131 of leadership, or else to conditions of an altogether extraordinary character.
During these ten sessions the bulk of the statute book had greatly increased, and much of this increase was no doubt healthy tissue. This period, notwithstanding, {195} will ever dwell in the memory as a squalid episode. Especially is this the case when we contrast the high hopes and promises, not of one party alone, with the results which were actually achieved.
DEMOCRACY AND LEADERSHIP
Democracy, if the best, is also the most delicate form of human government. None suffers so swiftly or so sorely from any shortage in the crop of character. None is so dependent upon men, and so little capable of being supported by the machine alone. When the leading of parties is in the hands of those who lack vision and firmness, the first effect which manifests itself is that parties begin to slip their principles. Some secondary object calls for and obtains the sacrifice of an ideal. So the unionists in 1909 threw over the order and tradition of the state, the very ark of their political covenant132, when they procured133 the rejection134 of the Budget by the House of Lords. So the Liberal Government in 1910, having solemnly undertaken to reform the constitution—a work not unworthy of the most earnest endeavour—went back upon their word, and abandoned their original purpose. For one thing they grew afraid of the clamour of their partisans135. For another they were tempted136 by the opportunity of advantages which—as they fondly imagined—could be easily and safely secured during the interval while all legislative137 powers were temporarily vested in the Commons. Nor were these the only instances where traditional policy had been diverted, and where ideals had been bargained away, in the hope that thereby138 objects of a more material sort might be had at once in exchange.
The business of leadership is to prevent the abandonment of the long aim for the sake of the short. The rank and file of every army is at all times most {196} dangerously inclined to this fatal temptation, not necessarily dishonestly, but from a lack of foresight139 and sense of proportion.
Some dim perception of cause and effect had begun to dawn during the years 1912 and 1913 upon the country, and even upon the more sober section of the politicians. An apprehension140 had been growing rapidly, and defied concealment141, that the country was faced by a very formidable something, to which men hesitated to give a name, but which was clearly not to be got rid of by the customary methods of holding high debates about it, and thereafter marching into division lobbies. While in public, each party was concerned to attribute the appearance of this unwelcome monster solely142 to the misdeeds of their opponents, each party knew well enough in their hearts that the danger was due at least in some measure to their own abandonment of pledges, principles, and traditions.
At Midsummer 1914 most people would probably have said that the immediate peril143 was Ireland and civil war. A few months earlier many imagined that trouble of a more general character was brewing144 between the civil and military powers, and that an issue which they described as that of 'the Army versus145 the People' would have to be faced. A few years earlier there was a widespread fear that the country might be confronted by some organised stoppage of industry, and that this would lead to revolution. Throughout the whole of this period of fourteen years the menace of war with Germany had been appearing, and disappearing, and reappearing, very much as a whale shows his back, dives, rises at some different spot, and dives again. For the moment, {197} however, this particular anxiety did not weigh heavily on the public mind. The man in the street had been assured of late by the greater part of the press and politicians—even by ministers themselves—that our relations with this formidable neighbour were friendlier and more satisfactory than they had been for some considerable time.
MR. ASQUITH'S PRE-EMINENCE
At Midsummer 1914, that is to say about six weeks before war broke out, the pre-eminent character in British politics was the Prime Minister. No other on either side of the House approached him in prestige, and so much was freely admitted by foes146 as well as friends.
When we are able to arrive at a fair estimate of the man who is regarded as the chief figure of his age, we have an important clue to the aspirations147 and modes of thought of the period in which he lived. A people may be known to some extent by the leaders whom it has chosen to follow.
Mr. Asquith entered Parliament in 1886, and before many months had passed his reputation was secure. Mr. Gladstone, ever watchful148 for youthful talent, promoted him at a bound to be Home Secretary, when the Cabinet of 1892 came into precarious149 existence. No member of this government justified150 his selection more admirably. But the period of office was brief. Three years later, the Liberal party found itself once again in the wilderness151, where it continued to wander, rent by dissensions both as to persons and principles, for rather more than a decade.
When Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman returned to office in the autumn of 1905, Mr. Asquith became {198} Chancellor152 of the Exchequer, and was speedily accepted as the minister next in succession to his chief. He was then just turned fifty, so that, despite the delays which had occurred, it could not be said that fortune had behaved altogether unkindly. Two and a half years later, in April 1908, he succeeded to the premiership without a rival, and without a dissentient voice.
The ambition, however, which brought him so successfully to the highest post appeared to have exhausted153 a great part of its force in attainment154, and to have left its possessor without sufficient energy for exercising those functions which the post itself required. The career of Mr. Asquith in the highest office reminds one a little of the fable155 of the Hare and the Tortoise. In the race which we all run with slow-footed fate, he had a signal advantage in the speed of his intellect, in his capacity for overtaking arrears156 of work which would have appalled157 any other minister, and for finding, on the spur of the moment, means for extricating158 his administration from the most threatening positions. But of late, like the Hare, he had come to believe himself invincible, and had yielded more and more to a drowsy159 inclination160. He had seemed to fall asleep for long periods, apparently in serene161 confidence that, before the Tortoise could pass the winning-post, somebody or something—in all probability the unionist party with the clamour of a premature162 jubilation—would awaken163 him in time to save the race.
So far as Parliament was concerned, his confidence in his own qualities was not misplaced. Again and again, the unleadered energies or ungoaded indolence of his colleagues landed the Government {199} in a mess. But as often as this happened Mr. Asquith always advanced upon the scene and rescued his party, by putting the worst blunder in the best light. He obligingly picked his stumbling lieutenants164 out of the bogs165 into which—largely, it must be admitted, for want of proper guidance from their chief—they had had the misfortune to fall. Having done this in the most chivalrous166 manner imaginable, he earned their gratitude167 and devotion. In this way he maintained a firm hold upon the leadership; if indeed it can properly be termed leadership to be the best acrobat168 of the troupe169, and to step forward and do the feats170 after your companions have failed, and the audience has begun to 'boo.'
WAIT AND SEE
Some years ago Mr. Asquith propounded171 a maxim—wait-and-see—which greatly scandalised and annoyed the other side. This formula was the perfectly172 natural expression of his character and policy. In the peculiar106 circumstances of the case it proved itself to be a successful parliamentary expedient173. Again and again it wrought174 confusion among his simple-minded opponents, who—not being held together by any firm authority—followed their own noses, now in one direction, now in another, upon the impulse of the moment. It is probable that against a powerful leader, who had his party well in hand, this policy of makeshift and delay would have brought its author to grief. But unionists were neither disciplined nor united, and they had lacked leadership ever since they entered upon opposition175.
For all its excellency, Mr. Asquith's oratory176 never touched the heart. And very rarely indeed did it succeed in convincing the cool judgment of people who had experience at first hand of the matters {200} under discussion. There was lacking anything in the nature of a personal note, which might have related the ego177 of the speaker to the sentiments which he announced so admirably. Also there was something which suggested that his knowledge had not been gained by looking at the facts face to face; but rather by the rapid digestion178 of minutes and memoranda179, which had been prepared for him by clerks and secretaries, and which purported180 to provide, in convenient tabloids181, all that it was necessary for a parliamentarian to know.
The style of speaking which is popular nowadays, and of which Mr. Asquith is by far the greatest master, would not have been listened to with an equal favour in the days of our grandfathers. In the Parliaments which assembled at Westminster in the period between the passing of the Reform Bill and the founding of the Eighty Club,[11] the country-gentlemen and the men-of-business—two classes of humanity who are constantly in touch with, and drawing strength from, our mother earth of hard fact[12]—met and fought out their differences during two generations. In that golden age it was all but unthinkable that a practising barrister should ever have become Prime Minister. The legal profession at this time had but little influence in counsel; still less in Parliament and on the platform. The middle classes were every whit as jealous and distrustful {201} of the intervention of the lawyer-advocate in public affairs as the landed gentry182 themselves. But in the stage of democratic evolution, which we entered on the morrow of the Mid-Lothian campaigns, and in which we still remain, the popular, and even the parliamentary, audience has gradually ceased to consist mainly of country-gentlemen interested in the land, and of the middle-classes who are engaged in trade. It has grown to be at once less discriminating183 as to the substance of speeches, and more exacting184 as to their form.
POLITICAL LAWYERS
A representative assembly which entirely185 lacked lawyers would be impoverished; but one in which they are the predominant, or even a very important element, is usually in its decline. It is strange that an order of men, who in their private and professional capacities are so admirable, should nevertheless produce baleful effects when they come to play too great a part in public affairs. Trusty friends, delightful186 companions, stricter perhaps than any other civil profession in all rules of honour, they are none the less, without seeking to be so, the worst enemies of representative institutions. The peculiar danger of personal monarchy is that it so easily submits to draw its inspiration from an adulatory187 priesthood, and the peculiar danger of that modern form of constitutional government which we call democracy, is that lawyers, with the most patriotic188 intentions, are so apt to undo189 it.
Lawyers see too much of life in one way, too little in another, to make them safe guides in practical matters. Their experience of human affairs is made up of an infinite number of scraps190 cut out of other people's lives. They learn and do hardly anything {202} except through intermediaries. Their clients are introduced, not in person, but in the first instance, on paper—through the medium of solicitors191' 'instructions.' Litigants192 appear at consultations193 in their counsel's chambers195 under the chaperonage of their attorneys; their case is considered; they receive advice. Then perhaps, if the issue comes into court, they appear once again, in the witness-box, and are there examined, cross-examined, and re-examined under that admirable system for the discovery of truth which is ordained196 in Anglo-Saxon countries, and which consists in turning, for the time being, nine people in every ten out of their true natures into hypnotised rabbits. Then the whole thing is ended, and the client disappears into the void from whence he came. What happens to him afterwards seldom reaches the ears of his former counsel. Whether the advice given to him in consultation194 has proved right or wrong in practice, rarely becomes known to the great man who gave it.
Plausibility197, an alert eye for the technical trip or fall—the great qualities of an advocate—do not necessarily imply judgment of the most valuable sort outside courts of law. The farmer who manures, ploughs, harrows, sows, and rolls in his crop is punished in his income, if he has done any one of these things wrongly, or at the wrong season. The shopkeeper who blunders in his buying or his selling, or the manufacturer who makes things as they should not be made, suffers painful consequences to a certainty. His error pounds him relentlessly198 on the head. Not so the lawyer. His errors for the most part are visited on others. His own success or non-success is largely a matter of words and pose. If he is confident and {203} adroit, the dulness of the jury or the senility of the bench can be made to appear, in the eyes of the worsted client, as the true causes of his defeat. And the misfortune is that in politics, which under its modern aspect is a trade very much akin63 to advocacy, there is a temptation, with all but the most patriotic lawyers, to turn to account at Westminster the skill which they have so laboriously199 acquired in the Temple.
Of course there have been, and will ever be, exceptions. Alexander Hamilton was a lawyer, though he was a soldier in the first instance. Abraham Lincoln was a lawyer. But we should have to go back to the 'glorious revolution' of 1688 before we could find a parallel to either of these two in our own history. Until the last two decades England has never looked favourably200 on lawyer leaders. This was regarded by some as a national peculiarity201; by others as a safeguard of our institutions. But by the beginning of the twentieth century it was clear that lawyers had succeeded in establishing their predominance in the higher walks of English politics, as thoroughly as they had already done wherever parliamentary government exists throughout the world.
MR. ASQUITH'S ORATORY
During this epoch, when everything was sacrificed to perspicuity202 and the avoidance of boredom203, Mr. Asquith's utterances205 led the fashion. His ministry206 was composed to a large extent of politicians bred in the same profession and proficient207 in the same arts as himself; but he towered above them all, the supreme208 type of the lawyer-statesman.
His method was supremely209 skilful210. In its own way it had the charm of perfect artistry, even though {204} the product of the art was hardly more permanent than that of the cordon211 bleu who confections ices in fancy patterns. And not only was the method well suited to the taste of popular audiences, but equally so to the modern House of Commons. That body, also, was now much better educated in matters which can be learned out of newspapers and books; far more capable of expressing its meanings in well-chosen phrases arranged in a logical sequence; far more critical of words—if somewhat less observant of things—than it was during the greater part of the reign81 of Queen Victoria.
To a large extent the House of Commons consisted of persons with whom public utterance204 was a trade. There were lawyers in vast numbers, journalists, political organisers, and professional lecturers on a large variety of subjects. And even among the labour party, where we might have expected to find a corrective, the same tendency was at work, perhaps as strongly as in any other quarter. For although few types of mankind have a shrewder judgment between reality and dialectic than a thoroughly competent 'workman,' labour leaders were not chosen because they were first-class workmen, but because they happened to be effective speakers on the platform or at the committee table.
To a critic, looking on at the play from outside, Mr. Asquith's oratory appeared to lack heart and the instinct for reality; his leadership, the qualities of vigilance, steadfastness212, and authority. He did not prevail by personal force, but by adroit confutation. His debating, as distinguished213 from his political, courage would have been admitted with few reservations even by an opponent. {205} Few were so ready to meet their enemies in the gate of discussion. Few, if any, were so capable of retrieving214 the fortunes of their party—even when things looked blackest—if it were at all possible to accomplish this by the weapons of debate. But the medium must be debate—not action or counsel—if Mr. Asquith's pre-eminence was to assert itself. In debate he had all the confidence and valour of the ma?tre d'armes, who knows himself to be the superior in skill of any fencer in his own school.
HIS CHARACTER
Next to Lord Rosebery he was the figure of most authority among the Liberal Imperialists, and yet this did not sustain his resolution when the Cabinet of 1905 proceeded to pare down the naval estimates. He was the champion of equal justice, as regards the status of Trades unions, repelling215 the idea of exceptional and favouring legislation with an eloquent216 scorn. Yet he continued to hold his place when his principles were thrown overboard by his colleagues in 1906. Again when he met Parliament in February 1910 he announced his programme with an air of heroic firmness.[13] It is unnecessary to recall the particulars of this episode, and how he was upheld in his command only upon condition that he would alter his course to suit the wishes of mutineers. And in regard to the question of Home Rule, his treatment of it from first to last had been characterised by the virtues217 of patience and humility218, rather than by those of prescience or courage.
A 'stellar and undiminishable' something, around which the qualities and capacities of a man revolve219 obediently, and under harmonious220 restraint—like {206} the planetary bodies—is perhaps as near as we can get to a definition of human greatness. But in the case of Mr. Asquith, for some years prior to July 1914, the central force of his nature had seemed inadequate for imposing221 the law of its will upon those brilliant satellites his talents. As a result, the solar system of his character had fallen into confusion, and especially since the opening of that year had appeared to be swinging lop-sided across the political firmament222 hastening to inevitable disaster.
[1] Cf. 'Russia and her Ideals,' Round Table, December 1914.
[2] Queen Victoria died on January 22, 1901.
[3] Imperial Conference on Defence, summer of 1909.
[4] 1904-1905.
[5] 1911.
[6] May 1902.
[7] Parliament Act became law August 1911.
[8] 1689.
[9] Home Rule Bill became law August 1914.
[10] Mr. Chamberlain died July 2, 1914; Mr. Balfour resigned the leadership of the unionist party on November 8, 1911.
[11] 1832-1880.
[12] They had an excellent sense of reality as regards their own affairs, and there between them covered a fairly wide area; but they were singularly lacking either in sympathy or imagination with regard to the affairs of other nations and classes. Their interest in the poor was confined for the most part to criticism of one another with regard to conditions of labour. The millowners thought that the oppression of the peasantry was a scandal; while the landowners considered that the state of things prevailing223 in factories was much worse than slavery. Cf. Disraeli's Sybil.
[13] I.e. curtailment of the powers of the House of Lords and its reform. Only the first was proceeded with.
点击收听单词发音
1 autocracy | |
n.独裁政治,独裁政府 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 sector | |
n.部门,部分;防御地段,防区;扇形 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 inadequate | |
adj.(for,to)不充足的,不适当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 fabric | |
n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 indirectly | |
adv.间接地,不直接了当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 monarch | |
n.帝王,君主,最高统治者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 monarchy | |
n.君主,最高统治者;君主政体,君主国 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 attachment | |
n.附属物,附件;依恋;依附 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 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: |
|
|
10 expediency | |
n.适宜;方便;合算;利己 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 patriotism | |
n.爱国精神,爱国心,爱国主义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 commonwealth | |
n.共和国,联邦,共同体 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 unison | |
n.步调一致,行动一致 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 provocations | |
n.挑衅( provocation的名词复数 );激怒;刺激;愤怒的原因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 civilisation | |
n.文明,文化,开化,教化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 invincible | |
adj.不可征服的,难以制服的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 epoch | |
n.(新)时代;历元 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 assail | |
v.猛烈攻击,抨击,痛斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 mechanism | |
n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 materialism | |
n.[哲]唯物主义,唯物论;物质至上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 rampant | |
adj.(植物)蔓生的;狂暴的,无约束的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 organise | |
vt.组织,安排,筹办 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 whit | |
n.一点,丝毫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 levying | |
征(兵)( levy的现在分词 ); 索取; 发动(战争); 征税 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 prostrate | |
v.拜倒,平卧,衰竭;adj.拜倒的,平卧的,衰竭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 adoration | |
n.爱慕,崇拜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 erecting | |
v.使直立,竖起( erect的现在分词 );建立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 calf | |
n.小牛,犊,幼仔,小牛皮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 shrines | |
圣地,圣坛,神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 predecessor | |
n.前辈,前任 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 insignificance | |
n.不重要;无价值;无意义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 repel | |
v.击退,抵制,拒绝,排斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 fortitude | |
n.坚忍不拔;刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 laggard | |
n.落后者;adj.缓慢的,落后的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 miraculous | |
adj.像奇迹一样的,不可思议的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 intervention | |
n.介入,干涉,干预 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 omissions | |
n.省略( omission的名词复数 );删节;遗漏;略去或漏掉的事(或人) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 marvel | |
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 gust | |
n.阵风,突然一阵(雨、烟等),(感情的)迸发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 clamorous | |
adj.吵闹的,喧哗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 naval | |
adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 supremacy | |
n.至上;至高权力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 dominions | |
统治权( dominion的名词复数 ); 领土; 疆土; 版图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 redoubtable | |
adj.可敬的;可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 populous | |
adj.人口稠密的,人口众多的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 salvation | |
n.(尤指基督)救世,超度,拯救,解困 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 confirmation | |
n.证实,确认,批准 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 akin | |
adj.同族的,类似的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 precedent | |
n.先例,前例;惯例;adj.在前的,在先的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 momentous | |
adj.重要的,重大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 curtailment | |
n.缩减,缩短 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 statute | |
n.成文法,法令,法规;章程,规则,条例 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 complexities | |
复杂性(complexity的名词复数); 复杂的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 congestion | |
n.阻塞,消化不良 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 overhauling | |
n.大修;拆修;卸修;翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 );大修;赶上;超越 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 creed | |
n.信条;信念,纲领 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 adherents | |
n.支持者,拥护者( adherent的名词复数 );党羽;徒子徒孙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 reign | |
n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 censure | |
v./n.责备;非难;责难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 judgments | |
判断( judgment的名词复数 ); 鉴定; 评价; 审判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 narratives | |
记叙文( narrative的名词复数 ); 故事; 叙述; 叙述部分 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 embittered | |
v.使怨恨,激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 withdrawal | |
n.取回,提款;撤退,撤军;收回,撤销 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 loyalties | |
n.忠诚( loyalty的名词复数 );忠心;忠于…感情;要忠于…的强烈感情 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 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: |
|
|
96 impoverished | |
adj.穷困的,无力的,用尽了的v.使(某人)贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 );使(某物)贫瘠或恶化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 replenished | |
补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 ); 重新装满 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 loyalty | |
n.忠诚,忠心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 ferment | |
vt.使发酵;n./vt.(使)激动,(使)动乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 attachments | |
n.(用电子邮件发送的)附件( attachment的名词复数 );附着;连接;附属物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 conversion | |
n.转化,转换,转变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 unpaid | |
adj.未付款的,无报酬的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 susceptible | |
adj.过敏的,敏感的;易动感情的,易受感动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 malicious | |
adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 publicity | |
n.众所周知,闻名;宣传,广告 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 interfere | |
v.(in)干涉,干预;(with)妨碍,打扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 custodian | |
n.保管人,监护人;公共建筑看守 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 amendment | |
n.改正,修正,改善,修正案 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 exchequer | |
n.财政部;国库 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 adroit | |
adj.熟练的,灵巧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 expeditious | |
adj.迅速的,敏捷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 corruption | |
n.腐败,堕落,贪污 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 furtive | |
adj.鬼鬼崇崇的,偷偷摸摸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 cynical | |
adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的,不信世道向善的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 slander | |
n./v.诽谤,污蔑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 frail | |
adj.身体虚弱的;易损坏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 disorders | |
n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 );凌乱;骚乱;(身心、机能)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 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: |
|
|
125 zephyr | |
n.和风,微风 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 tangled | |
adj. 纠缠的,紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 unstable | |
adj.不稳定的,易变的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 equanimity | |
n.沉着,镇定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 follower | |
n.跟随者;随员;门徒;信徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 fluctuations | |
波动,涨落,起伏( fluctuation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 inadequacy | |
n.无法胜任,信心不足 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 covenant | |
n.盟约,契约;v.订盟约 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 rejection | |
n.拒绝,被拒,抛弃,被弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 partisans | |
游击队员( partisan的名词复数 ); 党人; 党羽; 帮伙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 legislative | |
n.立法机构,立法权;adj.立法的,有立法权的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 foresight | |
n.先见之明,深谋远虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 brewing | |
n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 versus | |
prep.以…为对手,对;与…相比之下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 foes | |
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 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: |
|
|
148 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 precarious | |
adj.不安定的,靠不住的;根据不足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 chancellor | |
n.(英)大臣;法官;(德、奥)总理;大学校长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 attainment | |
n.达到,到达;[常pl.]成就,造诣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 arrears | |
n.到期未付之债,拖欠的款项;待做的工作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 appalled | |
v.使惊骇,使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的;丧胆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 extricating | |
v.使摆脱困难,脱身( extricate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 awaken | |
vi.醒,觉醒;vt.唤醒,使觉醒,唤起,激起 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 lieutenants | |
n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 );副职官员;空军;仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 bogs | |
n.沼泽,泥塘( bog的名词复数 );厕所v.(使)陷入泥沼, (使)陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 );妨碍,阻碍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 chivalrous | |
adj.武士精神的;对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 acrobat | |
n.特技演员,杂技演员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 troupe | |
n.剧团,戏班;杂技团;马戏团 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 feats | |
功绩,伟业,技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 propounded | |
v.提出(问题、计划等)供考虑[讨论],提议( propound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 oratory | |
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 ego | |
n.自我,自己,自尊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 digestion | |
n.消化,吸收 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 memoranda | |
n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 purported | |
adj.传说的,谣传的v.声称是…,(装得)像是…的样子( purport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 tabloids | |
n.小报,通俗小报(版面通常比大报小一半,文章短,图片多,经常报道名人佚事)( tabloid的名词复数 );药片 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 gentry | |
n.绅士阶级,上层阶级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 discriminating | |
a.有辨别能力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 exacting | |
adj.苛求的,要求严格的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 adulatory | |
adj. 谄媚的, 奉承的, 阿谀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 patriotic | |
adj.爱国的,有爱国心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 undo | |
vt.解开,松开;取消,撤销 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 scraps | |
油渣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 solicitors | |
初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 litigants | |
n.诉讼当事人( litigant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 consultations | |
n.磋商(会议)( consultation的名词复数 );商讨会;协商会;查找 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 ordained | |
v.任命(某人)为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 );授予(某人)圣职;(上帝、法律等)命令;判定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 plausibility | |
n. 似有道理, 能言善辩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 relentlessly | |
adv.不屈不挠地;残酷地;不间断 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 laboriously | |
adv.艰苦地;费力地;辛勤地;(文体等)佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 favourably | |
adv. 善意地,赞成地 =favorably | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 peculiarity | |
n.独特性,特色;特殊的东西;怪癖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 perspicuity | |
n.(文体的)明晰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 boredom | |
n.厌烦,厌倦,乏味,无聊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 utterances | |
n.发声( utterance的名词复数 );说话方式;语调;言论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 ministry | |
n.(政府的)部;牧师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 proficient | |
adj.熟练的,精通的;n.能手,专家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 supremely | |
adv.无上地,崇高地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 skilful | |
(=skillful)adj.灵巧的,熟练的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 cordon | |
n.警戒线,哨兵线 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 steadfastness | |
n.坚定,稳当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 retrieving | |
n.检索(过程),取还v.取回( retrieve的现在分词 );恢复;寻回;检索(储存的信息) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 repelling | |
v.击退( repel的现在分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 revolve | |
vi.(使)旋转;循环出现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 harmonious | |
adj.和睦的,调和的,和谐的,协调的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 imposing | |
adj.使人难忘的,壮丽的,堂皇的,雄伟的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 firmament | |
n.苍穹;最高层 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 prevailing | |
adj.盛行的;占优势的;主要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |