The Boston Enchantment1
Yet even as I write of the universities as the central intellectual organ of a modern state, as I sit implying salvation2 by schools, there comes into my mind a mass of qualification. The devil in the American world drama may be mercantilism, ensnaring, tempting3, battling against my hero, the creative mind of man, but mercantilism is not the only antagonist4. In Fifth Avenue or Paterson one may find nothing but the zenith and nadir5 of the dollar hunt, at a Harvard table one may encounter nothing but living minds, but in Boston—I mean not only Beacon6 Street and Commonwealth7 Avenue, but that Boston of the mind and heart that pervades8 American refinement9 and goes about the world—one finds the human mind not base, nor brutal10, nor stupid, nor ignorant, but mysteriously enchanting11 and ineffectual, so that having eyes it yet does not see, having powers it achieves nothing....
I remember Boston as a quiet effect, as something a little withdrawn12, as a place standing13 aside from the[Pg 224] throbbing14 interchange of East and West. When I hear the word Boston now it is that quality returns. I do not think of the spreading parkways of Mr. Woodbury and Mr. Olmstead nor of the crowded harbor; the congested tenement-house regions, full of those aliens whose tongues struck so strangely on the ears of Mr. Henry James, come not to mind. But I think of rows of well-built, brown and ruddy homes, each with a certain sound architectural distinction, each with its two squares of neatly15 trimmed grass between itself and the broad, quiet street, and each with its family of cultured people within. I am reminded of deferential16 but unostentatious servants, and of being ushered17 into large, dignified18 entrance-halls. I think of spacious19 stairways, curtained archways, and rooms of agreeable, receptive persons. I recall the finished informality of the high tea. All the people of my impression have been taught to speak English with a quite admirable intonation20; some of the men and most of the women are proficient21 in two or three languages; they have travelled in Italy, they have all the recognized classics of European literature in their minds, and apt quotations22 at command. And I think of the constant presence of treasured associations with the titanic23 and now mellowing24 literary reputations of Victorian times, with Emerson (who called Poe "that jingle26 man"), and with Longfellow, whose house is now sacred, its view towards the Charles River and the stadium—it is a real,[Pg 225] correct stadium—secured by the purchase of the sward before it forever....
At the mention of Boston I think, too, of autotypes and then of plaster casts. I do not think I shall ever see an autotype again without thinking of Boston. I think of autotypes of the supreme28 masterpieces of sculpture and painting, and particularly of the fluttering garments of the "Nike of Samothrace." (That I saw, also, in little casts and big, and photographed from every conceivable point of view.) It is incredible how many people in Boston have selected her for their ?sthetic symbol and expression. Always that lady was in evidence about me, unobtrusively persistent29, until at last her frozen stride pursued me into my dreams. That frozen stride became the visible spirit of Boston in my imagination, a sort of blind, headless, and unprogressive fine resolution that took no heed30 of any contemporary thing. Next to that I recall, as inseparably Bostonian, the dreaming grace of Botticelli's "Prima vera." All Bostonians admire Botticelli, and have a feeling for the roof of the Sistine chapel—to so casual and adventurous31 a person as myself, indeed, Boston presents a terrible, a terrifying unanimity32 of ?sthetic discriminations. I was nearly brought back to my childhood's persuasion33 that, after all, there is a right and wrong in these things. And Boston clearly thought the less of Mr. Bernard Shaw when I told her he had induced me to buy a pianola, not that Boston ever did set much store by so contemporary[Pg 226] a person as Mr. Bernard Shaw. The books she reads are toned and seasoned books—preferably in the old or else in limited editions, and by authors who may be lectured upon without decorum....
Boston has in her symphony concerts the best music in America, and here her tastes are severely34 orthodox and classic. I heard Beethoven's Fifth Symphony extraordinarily35 well done, the familiar pinnacled36 Fifth Symphony, and now, whenever I grind that out upon the convenient mechanism37 beside my desk at home, mentally I shall be transferred to Boston again, shall hear its magnificent aggressive thumpings transfigured into exquisite38 orchestration, and sit again among that audience of pleased and pleasant ladies in chaste39, high-necked, expensive dresses, and refined, attentive40, appreciative41, bald, or iron-gray men....
II
Boston's Antiquity42
Then Boston has historical associations that impressed me like iron-moulded, leather-bound, eighteenth-century books. The War of Independence, that to us in England seems half-way back to the days of Elizabeth, is a thing of yesterday in Boston. "Here," your host will say and pause, "came marching" so-and-so, "with his troops to relieve" so-and-so. And you will find he is the great-grandson of so-and-so, and still keeps that ancient colonial's sword. And[Pg 227] these things happened before they dug the Hythe military canal, before Sandgate, except for a decrepit43 castle, existed; before the days when Bonaparte gathered his army at Boulogne—in the days of muskets44 and pigtails—and erected45 that column my telescope at home can reach for me on a clear day. All that is ancient history in England and in Boston the decade before those distant alarums and excursions is yesterday. A year or so ago they restored the British arms to the old State-House. "Feeling," my informant witnessed, "was dying down." But there were protests, nevertheless....
If there is one note of incongruity46 in Boston, it is in the gilt47 dome48 of the Massachusetts State-House at night. They illuminate49 it with electric light. That shocked me as an anachronism. It shocked me—much as it would have shocked me to see one of the colonial portraits, or even one of the endless autotypes of the Belvidere Apollo replaced, let us say, by one of Mr. Alvin Coburn's wonderfully beautiful photographs of modern New York. That electric glitter breaks the spell; it is the admission of the present, of the twentieth century. It is just as if the Quirinal and Vatican took to an exchange of badinage50 with search-lights, or the King mounted an illuminated51 E.R. on the Round Tower at Windsor.
Save for that one discord52 there broods over the real Boston an immense effect of finality. One feels in Boston, as one feels in no other part of the States, that the intellectual movement has ceased.[Pg 228] Boston is now producing no literature except a little criticism. Contemporary Boston art is imitative art, its writers are correct and imitative writers the central figure of its literary world is that charming old lady of eighty-eight, Mrs. Julia Ward27 Howe. One meets her and Colonel Higginson in the midst of an authors' society that is not so much composed of minor53 stars as a chorus of indistinguishable culture. There are an admirable library and a museum in Boston, and the library is Italianate, and decorated within like an ancient missal. In the less ornamental54 spaces of this place there are books and readers. There is particularly a charming large room for children, full of pigmy chairs and tables, in which quite little tots sit reading. I regret now I did not ascertain55 precisely56 what they were reading, but I have no doubt it was classical matter.
I do not know why the full sensing of what is ripe and good in the past should carry with it this quality of discriminating57 against the present and the future. The fact remains58 that it does so almost oppressively. I found myself by some accident of hospitality one evening in the company of a number of Boston gentlemen who constituted a book-collecting club. They had dined, and they were listening to a paper on Bibles printed in America. It was a scholarly, valuable, and exhaustive piece of research. The surviving copies of each edition were traced, and when some rare specimen59 was mentioned as the property of any member of the club there was decorously[Pg 229] warm applause. I had been seeing Boston, drinking in the Boston atmosphere all day.... I know it will seem an ungracious and ungrateful thing to confess (yet the necessities of my picture of America compel me), but as I sat at the large and beautifully ordered table, with these fine, rich men about me, and listened to the steady progress of the reader's ever unrhetorical sentences, and the little bursts of approval, it came to me with a horrible quality of conviction that the mind of the world was dead, and that this was a distribution of souvenirs.
Indeed, so strongly did this grip me that presently, upon some slight occasion, I excused myself and went out into the night. I wandered about Boston for some hours, trying to shake off this unfortunate idea. I felt that all the books had been written, all the pictures painted, all the thoughts said—or at least that nobody would ever believe this wasn't so. I felt it was dreadful nonsense to go on writing books. Nothing remained but to collect them in the richest, finest manner one could. Somewhere about midnight I came to a publisher's window, and stood in the dim moonlight peering enviously60 at piled copies of Izaak Walton and Omar Khayyam, and all the happy immortals61 who got in before the gates were shut. And then in the corner I discovered a thin, small book. For a time I could scarcely believe my eyes. I lit a match to be the surer. And it was A Modern Symposium62, by Lowes Dickinson, beyond all disputing. It was strangely comforting to see it[Pg 230] there—a leaf of olive from the world of thought I had imagined drowned forever.
That was just one night's mood. I do not wish to accuse Boston of any wilful63, deliberate repudiation64 of the present and the future. But I think that Boston—when I say Boston let the reader always understand I mean that intellectual and spiritual Boston that goes about the world, that traffics in book-shops in Rome and Piccadilly, that I have dined with and wrangled65 with in my friend W.'s house in Blackheath, dear W., who, I believe, has never seen America—I think, I say, that Boston commits the scholastic66 error and tries to remember too much, to treasure too much, and has refined and studied and collected herself into a state of hopeless intellectual and ?sthetic repletion67 in consequence. In these matters there are limits. The finality of Boston is a quantitive consequence. The capacity of Boston, it would seem, was just sufficient but no more than sufficient, to comprehend the whole achievement of the human intellect up, let us say, to the year 1875 A.D. Then an equilibrium68 was established. At or about that year Boston filled up.
III
About Wellesley
It is the peculiarity69 of Boston's intellectual quality that she cannot unload again. She treasures Longfellow in quantity. She treasures his works, she treasures[Pg 231] associations, she treasures his Cambridge home. Now, really, to be perfectly70 frank about him, Longfellow is not good enough for that amount of intellectual house room. He cumbers Boston. And when I went out to Wellesley to see that delightful71 girls' college everybody told me I should be reminded of the "Princess." For the life of me I could not remember what "Princess." Much of my time in Boston was darkened by the constant strain of concealing72 the frightful73 gaps in my intellectual baggage, this absence of things I might reasonably be supposed, as a cultivated person, to have, but which, as a matter of fact, I'd either left behind, never possessed74, or deliberately75 thrown away. I felt instinctively76 that Boston could never possibly understand the light travelling of a philosophical77 carpet-bagger. But I hid—in full view of the tree-set Wellesley lake, ay, with the skiffs of "sweet girl graduates"—own up. "I say," I said, "I wish you wouldn't all be so allusive78. What Princess?"
It was, of course, that thing of Tennyson's. It is a long, frequently happy and elegant, and always meritorious79 narrative80 poem, in which a chaste Victorian amorousness81 struggles with the early formul? of the feminist82 movement. I had read it when I was a boy, I was delighted to be able to claim, and had honorably forgotten the incident. But in Boston they treat it as a living classic, and expect you to remember constantly and with appreciation83 this passage and that. I think that quite typical[Pg 232] of the Bostonian weakness. It is the error of the clever high-school girl, it is the mistake of the scholastic mind all the world over, to learn too thoroughly84 and to carry too much. They want to know and remember Longfellow and Tennyson—just as in art they want to know and remember Raphael and all the elegant inanity85 of the sacrifice at Lystra, or the miraculous86 draught87 of Fishes; just as in history they keep all the picturesque88 legends of the War of Independence—looking up the dates and minor names, one imagines, ever and again. Some years ago I met two Boston ladies in Rome. Each day they sallied forth89 from our hotel to see and appreciate; each evening, after dinner, they revised and underlined in Baedeker what they had seen. They meant to miss nothing in Rome. It's fine in its way—this receptive eagerness, this learners' avidity. Only people who can go about in this spirit need, if their minds are to remain mobile, not so much heads as cephalic pantechnicon vans....
IV
The Wellesley Cabinets
I find this appetite to have all the mellow25 and refined and beautiful things in life to the exclusion90 of all thought for the present and the future even in the sweet, free air of Wellesley's broad park, that most delightful, that almost incredible girls' university, with its[Pg 233] class-rooms, its halls of residence, its club-houses and gathering-places among the glades91 and trees. I have very vivid in my mind a sunlit room in which girls were copying the detail in the photographs of masterpieces, and all around this room were cabinets of drawers, and in each drawer photographs. There must be in that room photographs of every picture of the slightest importance in Italy, and detailed92 studies of many. I suppose, too, there are photographs of all the sculpture and buildings in Italy that are by any standard considerable. There is, indeed, a great civilization, stretching over centuries and embodying93 the thought and devotion, the scepticism and levities94, the ambition, the pretensions95, the passions, and desires of innumerable sinful and world-used men—canned, as it were, in this one room, and freed from any deleterious ingredients. The young ladies, under the direction of competent instructors96, go through it, no doubt, industriously97, and emerge—capable of Browning.
I was taken into two or three charming club-houses that dot this beautiful domain98. There was a Shakespeare club-house, with a delightful theatre, Elizabethan in style, and all set about with Shakespearean things; there was the club-house of the girls who are fitting themselves for their share in the great American problem by the study of Greek. Groups of pleasant girls in each, grave with the fine gravity of youth, entertained the reluctantly critical visitor, and were unmistakably delighted and re[Pg 234]laxed when one made it clear that one was not in the Great Teacher line of business, when one confided99 that one was there on false pretences100, and insisting on seeing the pantry. They have jolly little pantries, and they make excellent tea.
I returned to Boston at last in a state of mighty101 doubting, provided with a Wellesley College calendar to study at my leisure.
I cannot, for the life of me, determine how far Wellesley is an aspect of what I have called Boston; how far it is a part of that wide forward movement of the universities upon which I lavish102 hope and blessings103. Those drawings of photographed Madonnas and Holy Families and Annunciations, the sustained study of Greek, the class in the French drama of the seventeenth century, the study of the topography of Rome fill me with misgivings104, seeing the world is in torment105 for the want of living thought about its present affairs. But, on the other hand, there are courses upon socialism—though the text-book is still Das Kapital of Marx—and upon the industrial history of England and America. I didn't discover a debating society, but there is a large accessible library.
How far, I wonder still, are these girls thinking and feeding mentally for themselves? What do they discuss one with another? How far do they suffer under that plight106 of feminine education—notetaking from lectures?...
But, after all, this about Wellesley is a digression[Pg 235] into which I fell by way of Boston's autotypes. My main thesis was that culture, as it is conceived in Boston, is no contribution to the future of America, that cultivated people may be, in effect, as state-blind as—Mr. Morgan Richards. It matters little in the mind of the world whether any one is concentrated upon medi?val poetry, Florentine pictures, or the propagation of pills. The common, significant fact in all these cases is this, a blindness to the crude splendor107 of the possibilities of America now, to the tragic108 greatness of the unheeded issues that blunder towards solution. Frankly109, I grieve over Boston—Boston throughout the world—as a great waste of leisure and energy, as a frittering away of moral and intellectual possibilities. We give too much to the past. New York is not simply more interesting than Rome, but more significant, more stimulating110, and far more beautiful, and the idea that to be concerned about the latter in preference to the former is a mark of a finer mental quality is one of the most mischievous111 and foolish ideas that ever invaded the mind of man. We are obsessed112 by the scholastic prestige of mere113 knowledge and genteel remoteness. Over against unthinking ignorance is scholarly refinement, the spirit of Boston; between that Scylla and this Charybdis the creative mind of man steers114 its precarious115 way.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
enchantment
|
|
| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
antagonist
|
|
| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
nadir
|
|
| n.最低点，无底 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
beacon
|
|
| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
commonwealth
|
|
| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
pervades
|
|
| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
refinement
|
|
| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
enchanting
|
|
| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
deferential
|
|
| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
ushered
|
|
| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
spacious
|
|
| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
intonation
|
|
| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
proficient
|
|
| adj.熟练的，精通的；n.能手，专家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
quotations
|
|
| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
titanic
|
|
| adj.巨人的，庞大的，强大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
mellowing
|
|
| 软化，醇化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
mellow
|
|
| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
jingle
|
|
| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
adventurous
|
|
| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
unanimity
|
|
| n.全体一致，一致同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
persuasion
|
|
| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
pinnacled
|
|
| 小尖塔般耸立的，顶处的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
mechanism
|
|
| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
chaste
|
|
| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
appreciative
|
|
| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
decrepit
|
|
| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
muskets
|
|
| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
incongruity
|
|
| n.不协调，不一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
dome
|
|
| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
illuminate
|
|
| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
badinage
|
|
| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
discord
|
|
| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
ornamental
|
|
| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
discriminating
|
|
| a.有辨别能力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
specimen
|
|
| n.样本，标本 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
enviously
|
|
| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
immortals
|
|
| 不朽的人物( immortal的名词复数 )； 永生不朽者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
symposium
|
|
| n.讨论会，专题报告会；专题论文集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
wilful
|
|
| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
repudiation
|
|
| n.拒绝；否认；断绝关系；抛弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
wrangled
|
|
| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
scholastic
|
|
| adj.学校的，学院的，学术上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
repletion
|
|
| n.充满，吃饱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
equilibrium
|
|
| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
concealing
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
philosophical
|
|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
allusive
|
|
| adj.暗示的；引用典故的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
meritorious
|
|
| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
amorousness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
feminist
|
|
| adj.主张男女平等的，女权主义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
inanity
|
|
| n.无意义，无聊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
miraculous
|
|
| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
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： |
|
|
|
|
88
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
exclusion
|
|
| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
glades
|
|
| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
detailed
|
|
| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
embodying
|
|
| v.表现( embody的现在分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
levities
|
|
| n.欠考虑( levity的名词复数 )；不慎重；轻率；轻浮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
95
pretensions
|
|
| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
instructors
|
|
| 指导者，教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
industriously
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
domain
|
|
| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
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： |
|
|
|
|
100
pretences
|
|
| n.假装( pretence的名词复数 )；作假；自命；自称 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
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： |
|
|
|
|
104
misgivings
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
plight
|
|
| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
splendor
|
|
| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
stimulating
|
|
| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
obsessed
|
|
| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
steers
|
|
| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
precarious
|
|
| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |