"Who could come near the shrine4 of such a saint and not offer up a few p?ans of glory on it? Or how durst I omit it? For he it was that first planted me in my tender studies and watered them continually with his bounty5.... He did often supply the place of head-master and usher6 for the space of an whole week together, and gave us not an hour of loitering time from morning till night. He never walked to Chiswick for his recreation without a brace7 of this young fry, and in that wayfaring8 leisure had a singular dexterity9 to fill those narrow vessels10 with a funnel11. And what was the greatest burden of his toil12, sometimes twice in the week, sometimes oftener, he sent for the uppermost scholars to his lodgings13 at night and kept them with him from eight to eleven, unfolding to them the best rudiments14 of the Greek tongue and the elements of Hebrew grammar. And all this he did to boys without any compulsion or correction; nay15, I never heard him to utter so much as a word of austerity."
Altogether Andrewes was a man of great influence and renown16 both as a scholar and a preacher, so he was promoted to a bishopric after a short time, and was succeeded by Richard Neile, who had himself been a boy of Westminster School, and who, therefore, in his turn carefully fostered its growth. He too became a bishop17 in three years, and of the two deans who followed him, Montague and Tounson, we know little except that the one was "a person of wit and entertaining conversation," and the other "one of a graceful18 presence and an excellent preacher, who left a widow and fifteen children unprovided for."
It is Hacket who again gives us an amusing picture of the excitement among all the divines when it became known that Tounson was to be Bishop of Salisbury and that the Deanery of Westminster was vacant.
"It was a fortunate seat," he says, "near the Court. Like the office over the king of Persia's garden at Babylon, stored with the most delicious fruits. He that was trusted with the garden was the Lord of the Palace."
Among those who earnestly desired the post was John Williams, one of the chaplains to James I., and in these words he applied19 for it through Lord Burleigh:—
"MY MOST NOBLE LORD,—I am an humble20 suitor, first to be acknowledged your servant, and then that I may with your happy hand be transplanted to Westminster if the Deanery shall still prove vacant. I trouble not your Honour for profit, but for convenience, for being unmarried and inclining so to continue, I do find that Westminster is fitter by much for that disposition22. If your Honour be not bent23 upon an ancient servitor, I beseech24 you to think on me."
Fortunately for Westminster he obtained his heart's desire, and in 1620 began his useful rule. He took for his exemplars Abbot Islip and Dean Andrewes, imitating the first by carefully restoring the many parts of the Abbey which through neglect were falling in ruins, and the second by encouraging the school. Then, "that God might be praised with a cheerful noise in His sanctuary25," he obtained, as Hacket tells us, "the sweetest music both for the organ and for voices of all parts that was ever heard in an English quire;" and in Jerusalem Chamber26 he gave many entertainments with music, which "the most famous masters of this delightful27 faculty28 frequented." To enlarge the boundaries of learning he turned one of the deserted29 rooms in the cloisters30, of old used by the monks31, into a library, bought out of his own means a large number of books from a certain Mr. Baker33 of Highgate, and was so public-spirited that he allowed men of learning from all parts of London to have access to those precious works.
He was in great favour with James, who made him Lord Keeper of the Seal and Bishop of Lincoln, allowing him to hold Westminster at the same time, and though his enemies had much to say on the subject of his holding so many offices, it must be said in justice that he got through an amazing amount of work. Under him it seemed as if some of the splendid hospitalities which had ceased since the days when the Abbots kept open house were to be revived, for Dean Williams entertained in Jerusalem Chamber the French ambassadors who came over to arrange for the marriage between Prince Charles and Princess Henriette.
Before the feast he led them into the Abbey, which was "stuck with flambeaux everywhere that they might cast their eyes upon the stateliness of the church," while "the best finger of the age, Dr. Orlando Gibbons," played the organ for their entertainment.
You will see a memorial of this banquet in the carvings34 over the mantelpiece in the Jerusalem Chamber for on one side is Charles I. and on the other side his French bride.
But with the death of James I., Lord Keeper, Bishop and Dean Williams fell upon evil days, for he was disliked by the Duke of Buckingham and Laud35, who entirely36 influenced the king, and was not even allowed to officiate on the coronation day.
JERUSALEM CHAMBER.
JERUSALEM CHAMBER.
Under the Commonwealth37 the Abbey fared badly, for with a fanatical horror of anything that reminded them of royalty38 or of Rome, the Parliamentarians had not the smallest regard for it, and delighted in showing their contempt for its past. How far the soldiers were allowed to desecrate39 its walls and its altars it is difficult to clearly ascertain40, and we may fairly believe that the story of how they pulled down the organ, pawned41 the pipes for ale, and played boisterous42 games up and down the church "to show their Christian43 liberty," is a great exaggeration, even if any such thing took place at all. Certainly the altar in Henry VII.'s chapel44, under which lay buried Edward VI., was destroyed, the copes and vestments were sold, and many windows and monuments supposed to teach lessons of superstition45 and idolatry were demolished46. No dean was appointed. The church being put under a Parliamentary Committee, Presbyterian preachers conducted morning exercises, which took the place of the daily services, and Bradshaw, the President of the court which tried and condemned47 to death Charles I., settled himself into the deserted deanery. A strange sight indeed it must have been to those who noted48 it to watch this man going backwards49 and forwards between Abbot Islip's house and the Hall of Westminster Palace, holding in the hollow of his hand the life of the king of England!
Westminster School, which, under Elizabeth, had been set on its new and enlarged footing, and since then had vigorously expanded under the various head-masters, alone continued to flourish. Its scholars naturally were closely connected with the life that centred round Westminster: they listened to the debates of Parliament, they flocked to hear the trials in Westminster Hall, they attended the services in the Abbey. Their feelings ran high during the Civil War. Pym, Cromwell, and Bradshaw they hated; the execution of Charles roused their deepest indignation, and they listened in awed50 horror as Bushby, their master, read solemnly the prayer for the king at the very moment when the scaffold was being erected51 at Whitehall. It was the strong personality of Bushby and his tactful management which saved the school from being seriously interfered52 with at the hands of the all-powerful Parliament, so that for fifty-five years this model for head-masters "ruled with his rod and his iron will, and successfully piloted this bark through very stormy seas." He was full of enthusiasm and energy and he was more anxious that his pupils should become men of action and character than accomplished53 scholars. His monument, which is near the Poets' Corner shows him, in the words of the inscription54, "such as he appeared to human eyes;" and the words which follow tell how he "sowed a plenteous harvest of ingenious men; discovered, managed, and improved the natural genius in every one; formed and nourished the minds of youths, and gave to the school of Westminster the fame of which it boasts."
But the Abbey was a national institution, too firmly builded on the rocks to be more than shaken by the passing storms. It had weathered the earthquake of the Reformation, it had survived the tempests of the Revolution. With the Restoration came the calm, and quietly the old life was resumed. I have but little more to tell you of the inner story of the Abbey, nor from this time forward do kings and queens play any very important part in its story. It is the tombs and monuments which now begin, more closely even than before, to cement the tie between Westminster and the pages of English history. So I will only tell you in a few words how Dean Sprat busied himself with the restoration of the great buildings, the architect being Sir Christopher Wren55, who, as you know, designed St. Paul's Cathedral, and rebuilt so many of the old London churches which the Great Fire had destroyed, and how Dean Atterbury carried on the work, including the rebuilding of the great dormitory, until his devotion to the Stuart cause and his opposition56 to George I. caused him to be sent first to the Tower, and afterwards as an exile to France. Atterbury loved well his Abbey, and his last request was that he might walk through it once more, especially to see the glass which was his own gift to it, and which still exists in the beautiful rose window over the north door. But the sad thing about these so-called restorations is that so much of the matchless old work was destroyed, and nobody seemed in the least concerned at this. That was an age when the glories of medieval architecture appear to have lost all their charm in men's eyes, when the love of beautiful things was at its lowest ebb57. The Westminster boys played their games in the chapels58, and were allowed to skip from tomb to tomb in the Confessor's shrine; hideous59 monuments were erected and crowded together, nothing old was reverenced60, and we can only be thankful that more was not destroyed or hopelessly ruined. And yet, in spite of this apparent indifference62, here and there were men who found themselves stirred when they came within those walls as they were stirred nowhere else, so that many a writer, including Addison, Steele, and Goldsmith, and earlier still, John Milton, has paid homage63, even in those unimaginative days, to that fair place, "so far exceeding human excellence64 that a man would think it was knit together by the fingers of angels."
One more dean I must tell you of, and that is Dean Stanley, who, with his wife, lies in the south aisle65 of Henry VII.'s Chapel. For it was when he was appointed to Westminster in 1864 that once again the Abbey became something more than a great memory of former days. First of all he unfolded the storied past, clearing up many a mystery, setting right many an error, and then, impelled66 by a deep reverence61 for all its great associations, he consistently carried on its history. In every trace of his work we find this same wise spirit of sympathy and understanding. To him the Abbey was our greatest national treasure; his ideal was, not only so to keep it, but to make it a living influence among all English-speaking people. And thanks in no small degree to him, Westminster Abbey is to-day a very magnet in the heart of the empire, to which high and low rich and poor, learned and ignorant are drawn68 from far and near, to drink in, as they are able, its memories and its beauties, to do homage to those great souls whom it honours there to read as from a book stories of Englishmen who whether as kings or statesmen, abbots or deans, nobles or commoners, poets or patriots69, added at least some stones to that other building, not fashioned by hands alone, which grew up side by side with Edward's church, and thus became the builders of our nation.
But we have gone forward, quickly, and I must take you back for a moment to Henry VII.'s Chapel, where still after the Restoration some royal funerals took place. With the outburst of loyal feeling, it was felt by many that Charles I., who had been buried at Windsor, ought to be brought here, and Christopher Wren was commanded to prepare a costly70 monument. But nothing further was done in the matter. Charles II. was buried at midnight most unceremoniously, close to the monument of General Monk32, and one who was probably present adds, by way of comment, "he was soon forgotten." Ten children of James II. were laid in the spacious71 vault72 under Mary Queen of Scots monument, but he himself, having fled from his kingdom, died abroad and was buried in Paris. William and Mary, Queen Anne and her husband, Prince George of Denmark, all lie near Charles II., and the seventeen children of Anne are just behind in what is really the Children's Vault. One of these children, Prince William Henry, another Duke of Gloucester, though he only lived to be eleven, was such a quaint73 little boy that his tutor wrote a biography of him. He was always very delicate, but though his body was weak his mind was precocious74 and his spirits were unfailingly high. From the time he was two his craze was for soldiers, and he had a company of ninety boys from Kensington for his bodyguard75, whom he drilled and ruled by martial76 law. These boys he called his horse-guards, and they wore red grenadiers' caps and carried wooden swords and muskets77; but, however much they may have pleased the little prince, who lived at Camden House, they were somewhat of a terror to the people of Kensington, as, "presuming on being soldiers, they were very rude and challenged men in the streets, which caused complaints." This tutor of his, Jenkin Lewis, who entered thoroughly78 into the spirit of the little Duke, gives a delightful account of a visit paid to him by his uncle, the grave William III., who appears to have been very fond of him.
Altogether the Duke must have been a charming little boy, plucky79, generous, and remarkably80 bright. If he fell down and hurt himself, he would say, "A bullet in the war had grazed me," and though, to please the queen, he learnt dancing from an old Frenchman, he confided81 to his tutor that the only thing he loved in that way was the English march to a drum.
Greatly to his joy the king decided82 to make him a Knight83 of the Garter when he was only six years old, and to add to the honour William tied on the Garter himself.
"Now," said the boy proudly, "if I fight any more battles I shall give harder blows than ever."
He was as quick and interested at his lessons as he was at soldiering, and we bear of his making amazing progress under the Bishop of Marlborough in the history of the Bible, geography, constitutional history, and many other subjects, while his tutor had taught him "the terms of fortification and navigation, the different parts of a ship of war, and stories about C?sar, Alexander, Pompey, Hannibal, and Scipio. It was his tutor who put into verse, and persuaded Mr. Church, one of the gentlemen of Westminster Abbey, to set to music, the Duke's words of command to his boys, which ran thus:—
"Hark, hark! the hostile drum alarms,
Let ours too beat, and call to arms;
Prepare, my boys, to meet the foe84,
Let every breast with valour glow.
Soon conquest shall our arms decide,
And Britain's sons in triumph ride.
In order charge your daring band,
Attentive85 to your chief's command.
Discharge your volleys, fire away;
They yield, my lads, we gain the day.
March on, pursue to yonder town;
No ambush86 fear, the day's our own.
Yet from your hearts let mercy flow,
And nobly spare the captive foe!"
When in 1696 a plot formed against William III. was discovered, the Duke determined87 not to be behind the Houses of Parliament, who offered their loyal addresses to the king, so he drew up a little address of his own in these words, which was signed by himself and all his boys: "We, your Majesty's faithful subjects, will stand by you as long as we have a drop of blood."
On the 24th July 1700 he was eleven and had a birthday party, which of course meant a sham88 fight among his boys; and when on the next morning he complained of feeling ill, every one naturally thought he was only over-tired or excited. But a bad throat and high fever soon showed that there was serious mischief89, and within a week he died. "To the inexpressible grief," wrote the Bishop of Salisbury, "of all good men who were well-wishers to the Protestant religion and lovers of their country."
George II. was the last king to be buried in the Abbey, and he was laid in the same stone coffin90 as his wife, Queen Caroline. You will find the gravestones in the nave91 of Henry VII.'s Chapel, and near to it are buried his two daughters, his son Frederick, Prince of Wales, and several grandchildren. Horace Walpole, the son of Robert Walpole, who had for twenty-one years been the Prime Minister of the king, thus describes to us the last royal funeral at Westminster:—
"The procession through a line of foot-guards, every seventh man bearing a torch, the horse-guards lining21 the outside, their officers with drawn swords and crape sashes, the drums muffled92, the fifes, the bells tolling93, and the minute guns, all this was very solemn. But the charm was the entrance to the Abbey, where we were received by the Dean and Chapter in rich robes, the choir94 and almsmen bearing torches, the whole Abbey so illuminated95 that one saw it to greater advantage than by day. When we came to the Chapel of Henry VII., all solemnity and decorum ceased, no order was observed, people sat or stood where they would or could; the Yeomen of the Guard were crying out for help, oppressed by the immense weight of the coffin. The Bishop read sadly and blundered in the prayers, and the anthem96, besides being immeasurably tedious, would have served as well for a wedding.... The Duke of Newcastle fell into a fit of crying the moment we came into the chapel and flung himself back in a stall, the Archbishop towering over him with a smelling-bottle; but in two minutes his curiosity got the better of his hypocrisy97, and he ran about the chapel with his glass to spy who was or was not there. Then returned his fear of getting cold, and the Duke of Cumberland, who felt himself weighed down, on turning round found it was the Duke of Newcastle standing67 upon his train to avoid the chill of the marble."
But though Westminster was no longer to be the church of the royal tombs, there was one ceremony she was still to claim undisputed as her own peculiar98 right. A Coronation meant the Abbey; no other place was ever dreamt of. Charles II. here commenced his reign99 with great glory. James II. characteristically grudged100 spending any money excepting ￡100,000 for the queen's dress and trinkets. William and Mary were crowned together, for Mary refused to be queen unless her husband became king with her, and it is for this joint-coronation that the second chair of state was made, which stands with the old Coronation Chair in the Confessor's Chapel. The members of the House of Commons were present and "hummed applause at the eloquent101 ending to Bishop Burnet's sermon, in which he prayed God "to bless the royal pair with long life and love, with obedient subjects, wise counsellors, faithful allies, gallant102 fleets and armies, and finally with crowns more glorious and lasting103 than those which glittered on the altar of the Abbey."
Queen Anne, fat, gouty, and childless, found the day a weary one. Unlike her sister Mary, she was crowned queen in her own right, and her husband was the first of the nobles to do her homage.
When George I. was crowned many difficulties had to be overcome, for everything had to be explained to the king, who knew no English, by ministers who stumbled badly over their German. But George II. had learnt the language of his people, and liking104 great ceremonies as much as his father had disliked them, his coronation day was celebrated105 in great state. Queen Caroline must have been ablaze106 with jewels, for besides wearing all her own, she had borrowed what pearls she could from the ladies of quality, and had hired all manner of diamonds from the Jews and jewellers. George IV. spent more money when he was crowned king than any other of his race, but the day was not without a very painful scene, as he refused to prepare any place for his wife, Queen Caroline, and she indignantly tried in vain to insist on her rights and to force her way into the Abbey. She failed, and her failure so broke her spirits that she fell ill, and a few weeks later she died.
William IV. was crowned at a critical moment, for the country was in a state of excitement concerning the Reform Bill, which, if passed, would give a vote to a great number of people who did not possess one, but which was being firmly opposed by the Duke of Wellington and a strong party. To avoid any risks of riots or demonstrations107 the usual procession was left out, even the usual banquet in the old palace, while everything was as simple and private as possible. But seven years later those old grey walls looked down on a Coronation Day which brought untold108 blessings109 to England. On June 28, 1838, Princess Victoria, a slender girl in the first freshness of her youth, was publicly recognised undoubted queen of the realm, and took her solemn oath in the sight of the people to perform and keep the promises demanded of her by the Archbishop. Here in the Sanctuary she was anointed; here the spurs and the sword of state were presented to her, and then laid on the altar; here the orb110 was placed in her hands and the royal robe about her shoulders; here the ring, the sceptre, the rod were delivered to her; here was the crown of pure gold set on her head, and the Bible, the royal law, placed in her hands; here she ascended111 the throne, while her nobles did her homage; here, taking off her crown, she received the Holy Communion, and then passed on into the Confessor's Chapel in accordance with the time-honoured usage.
Vastly solemn indeed was the ceremony, calling to mind as it did the long procession of kings and queens who, without exception in that place, almost in those identical words, had accepted the great trust to which they had been called. Some had been faithful; some, through weakness or through wilful112 wrong-doing, had violated the vow113. The strongest men had sometimes wavered, the bravest men had faltered114 before their task. But Queen Victoria never failed her people. Through weal and woe115, through storm and sunshine, through good and evil days, she watched over them and guarded their interests. She ruled over their hearts at home and throughout those vaster dominions116 beyond the seas, she bound them to her with bonds of loyal devotion, so that when, in the dim light of a winter's day in February 1901, the Abbey was filled with a vast crowd of those who were there to pay their last tribute to her memory, their universal sorrow was no mere117 formality, but was in harmony with the sense of personal loss which was felt by all who had owned her as their Sovereign Lady.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
prospering
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
shrine
|
|
| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
bounty
|
|
| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
usher
|
|
| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
brace
|
|
| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
wayfaring
|
|
| adj.旅行的n.徒步旅行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
dexterity
|
|
| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
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： |
|
|
|
|
11
funnel
|
|
| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
rudiments
|
|
| n.基础知识，入门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
renown
|
|
| n.声誉，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
lining
|
|
| n.衬里，衬料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
beseech
|
|
| v.祈求，恳求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
sanctuary
|
|
| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
cloisters
|
|
| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
monks
|
|
| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
monk
|
|
| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
baker
|
|
| n.面包师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
carvings
|
|
| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
laud
|
|
| n.颂歌；v.赞美 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
commonwealth
|
|
| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
royalty
|
|
| n.皇家，皇族 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
desecrate
|
|
| v.供俗用，亵渎，污辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
pawned
|
|
| v.典当，抵押( pawn的过去式和过去分词 )；以（某事物）担保 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
boisterous
|
|
| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
superstition
|
|
| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
demolished
|
|
| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
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： |
|
|
|
|
48
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
backwards
|
|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
awed
|
|
| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
interfered
|
|
| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
wren
|
|
| n.鹪鹩；英国皇家海军女子服务队成员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
ebb
|
|
| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
chapels
|
|
| n.小教堂， （医院、监狱等的）附属礼拜堂( chapel的名词复数 )；（在小教堂和附属礼拜堂举行的）礼拜仪式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
reverenced
|
|
| v.尊敬，崇敬( reverence的过去式和过去分词 )；敬礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
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： |
|
|
|
|
62
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
excellence
|
|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
aisle
|
|
| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
impelled
|
|
| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
patriots
|
|
| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
spacious
|
|
| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
vault
|
|
| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
precocious
|
|
| adj.早熟的；较早显出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
bodyguard
|
|
| n.护卫，保镖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
martial
|
|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
muskets
|
|
| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
plucky
|
|
| adj.勇敢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
confided
|
|
| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
foe
|
|
| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
ambush
|
|
| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
sham
|
|
| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
coffin
|
|
| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
nave
|
|
| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
tolling
|
|
| [财]来料加工 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
choir
|
|
| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
anthem
|
|
| n.圣歌，赞美诗，颂歌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
hypocrisy
|
|
| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
reign
|
|
| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
grudged
|
|
| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
gallant
|
|
| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
ablaze
|
|
| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
demonstrations
|
|
| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
untold
|
|
| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
blessings
|
|
| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
orb
|
|
| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
wilful
|
|
| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
dominions
|
|
| 统治权( dominion的名词复数 )； 领土； 疆土； 版图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |