“In the beginning was the Logos.” Never shall I forget the unexpectedness of those words. I had supposed that the Christians3 altogether rejected the Logos except as meaning “utterance” or “doctrine4.” “In the beginning” was, in some senses, familiar. I had read in Mark, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ.” Luke, too, had spoken of “those who were from the beginning eyewitnesses6 and ministers of the Logos.” But how different was Luke’s “Logos” and Luke’s “beginning” from this!
I read on: “In the beginning was the Logos and the Logos was with God.” What did “with” mean? Was the Logos “at home with God”? Or “conversing with God”? Or “in union with God”? Or did “with” include all these meanings? And what was this Logos? The next words gave the answer: “The Logos was God.”
These words alone, contrasted with Luke’s preface, sufficed to indicate a difference between Luke and John, just such as Clemens had suggested. Luke began with a reference to many[323] inadequate7 “attempts” to draw up a relation about what he called “the facts”—meaning “facts” as distinct from fancies—“consummated among us.” Then, like a careful compiler, he distinguished8 his authorities, giving the first place to “eyewitnesses,” the second to accessories, or “ministers.” These were eyewitnesses, he said, “from the beginning”; and he declared that he had followed and traced their evidence from the fountain head. John, like a prophet, went back to a “beginning” of which there could be no “eyewitnesses.” He did not say, as Luke did, “it seemed good to me” to write. He said—as though he had himself been with Him who was from the beginning—“The Logos was God.”
Glancing down the column before folding up the scroll9, I could barely read in the fast expiring twilight the words, “And the Logos became flesh and tabernacled among us, and we beheld10 his glory, glory as of the only begotten11 from the Father.” Clemens had prepared me for such words. As I understood them, the “glory” did not mean any splendour of material light or fire, such as is mentioned sometimes in the theophanies of Greek, Roman, and Hebrew writers, but the glory of God’s constraining12 love. But I greatly desired to study the words in their context. Repeating them over and over again, as I rolled up the book, I hurried homeward. Star after star came out in the darkness; and with each new star a new suggestion of invisible “glory” shone on me more clearly. “This gospel,” I said, “will grow on me like these visible glories. Night by night, and day by day, its words will become less strange and more wonderful.”
On my arrival, I lit my lamp, and sat down at once, preparing to continue my reading, when my servant entered with a letter. Not recognising the superscription, I put it on one side. The boy waited about in the room, doing nothing that needed doing. I was on the point of dismissing him, when he said, “Sir, I think it is from Tusculum; but the superscription is not in my lord’s handwriting.” Looking again, I saw that it was in the handwriting of Marullus, Scaurus’s secretary. Scaurus usually superscribed his letters to me with his own hand. In alarm about his health, I tore[324] the letter open, and throwing the cover hastily aside, glanced at the beginning. This reassured13 me. It was from Scaurus, and in his handwriting.
My apprehensions14 were soon banished15. He had been ill, he said, but had now recovered after a somewhat severe attack. Then the old war-horse passed on to his favourite battle-field—criticism of Christian2 gospels. I was in the act of putting the letter down—for I had had enough, for the present, of criticizing the old gospels, and was longing16 to study the new one—when I caught sight of the words “fourth gospel,” and discovered that he had recently procured17 the very book I was beginning to read, and that his letter contained a discussion of it. This was not quite welcome—not, at least, at the moment. I wished to read the gospel first, for myself, before looking at Scaurus’s criticism, which (I felt sure) would be destructive. “Yet,” thought I, “I have heard Clemens on the one side; ought I not to hear Scaurus on the other? If Scaurus goes wrong, ought I not to be able to find it out?” Scaurus was always fair and honest, and had helped me hitherto, even when I had not agreed with him. These considerations made me finally decide to read the letter and the gospel together, comparing each criticism with the passage or subject criticized, as I went on.
“Let me begin,” wrote Scaurus, “with the point that will most interest you. I have accused Epictetus of borrowing from the Christians. I now assert that this writer—Flaccus tells me that the Christians say it was John the son of Zebedee; I am sure they are wrong, but for convenience I will call him John—this man John deliberately18 contradicts Epictetus, using our friend’s language but in a different or opposite sense, or with opposite conclusions.
“For example, Epictetus mocks at Agamemnon for calling himself a shepherd of the people. He dislikes the Homeric language and says ‘Shepherd you are in truth; for you weep, as the shepherds do, when a wolf snatches away one of their sheep.’ John makes Christ distinguish between the good shepherd and the hireling. It is only the hireling that flees and lets the wolf snatch away the sheep. In John, Christ says,[325] ‘I am the good shepherd,’ and ‘The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.’
“Again, Epictetus declares that a good man never weeps. He blames Ulysses in particular for weeping at his separation from Penelope. John represents Christ as shedding tears in sympathy with a woman weeping for her dead brother.
“Epictetus constantly says that self-knowledge is everything—herein (I must admit) going with other philosophers. John represents Christ as saying, ‘This is eternal life, to know thee, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.’ It is impossible that Christ could have uttered the last part of this sentence exactly as it stands. But that does not weaken my argument, which is, that John (alone of the evangelists) insists on other-knowledge, not on self-knowledge, as being the essential thing. And this he does throughout his gospel.”
Then Scaurus came to that cardinal19 doctrine of Epictetus which had caused Glaucus and me so many searchings of heart. “You know,” he said, “that Epictetus teaches that no good man is ever troubled. It is not John’s custom to contradict what he deems errors in a formal and direct way. But if he had resorted for once to direct methods, he could hardly have contradicted this Epictetian doctrine more effectively than he does in his indirect dramatic fashion. He represents Christ as thrice ‘troubled.’ First—on the same occasion on which he lets fall tears in sympathy with the woman above mentioned—he is said to have ‘troubled himself.’ Secondly20, on an occasion when he is (as I take it) preparing for some act of self-sacrifice, he says, ‘Now is my soul troubled.’ On a third occasion, when announcing that he is to be betrayed by one of the Twelve, he is said to have been ‘troubled in spirit.’ I cannot doubt that this description of threefold ‘trouble’ is intended to attack the Stoic21 doctrine that the wise and good man is to shrink from ‘trouble’.” This convinced me, and it convinces me still.
Scaurus proceeded to say, “Some innocent readers of this gospel might say, ‘Well at all events John agrees with Epictetus in his use of the term Logos.’ And (no doubt) the first three lines of the gospel might suggest this. But[326] read on, and you will find the two are in absolute opposition22. The Logos, in John, instead of being the philosophic23 Logos or reason, is really an unreasonable24 and hyperbolical sort of love, regarded by him as born from God, and as part of God’s personality, and as constituting unity25 in God’s nature. This Logos he regards as incarnate26 as a man for the purpose of uniting mankind to God! This doctrine Epictetus would absolutely reject.
“Later on, in this gospel, you will find Christ saying to the disciples27, ‘Ye are clean on account of the Logos that I have spoken to you.’ Now Epictetus also connects cleanness with the Logos. ‘It is impossible,’ he says, ‘that man’s nature should be altogether clean, but the Logos being received into it, as far as possible attempts to make it cleanly.’ Verbally, there is an appearance of agreement. Read the two contexts, however, and you will find that, whereas Epictetus makes ‘cleanness’ consist in right convictions, John makes it consist in a mystical doctrine of sacrifice, or service, typified by the Master’s washing the feet of the disciples.
“I could give you other instances of the way in which John uses other language of philosophers in a non-philosophic sense. But his use of Logos suffices for my purpose. It gives the clue to the whole gospel. This writer adds one more to my list of Christian retiarii. The innocent reader, unrolling the book and reading its first words, prepares himself for a Platonic28 treatise29 in which he is to ‘follow the Logos’ in accordance with Socratic precept30. Then, step by step, he is lured31 on into regions of non-logic and sentiment, till the net suddenly descends32 on him, and he finds himself repeating, ‘the Logos became flesh’.”
What Scaurus said interested me but did not convince me as to John’s motive33. Nor did Scaurus himself adhere to it. He did not always use the epithet34 “retiarian” in a bad sense. As I have said above, I had come to believe that right “feeling,” rather than right “reason,” may be regarded as revealing the nature of God. So I did not feel that John was beguiling35 his readers. But Scaurus’s criticism helped me to recognise the extreme skill and tact—as well[327] as the terseness36, beauty, and solemnity—with which the evangelist introduces the doctrine of the incarnation. And I could not help agreeing with my friend’s next remark, “The man that wrote the Apocalypse—though he, too, was a prophet and a poet in his line—could no more have written this prologue37 than Ennius could have written the ?neid.”
After some more observations on the difference of style in the Apocalypse and the Gospel, he returned to the criticism of the latter. “Compare,” he said, “the prologue and the conclusion with the rest of this book, and you will see that there is some mystery about its authorship. Under one style it conveys two currents of thought. Sometimes it repeats itself like an old man. Sometimes it is as brief and dark as an oracle38. Moreover, some events—such as the expulsion of the tradespeople from the temple—which ought to come at the end—this writer places at the beginning. It has occurred to me that he must have started with the intention of describing nothing but Christ’s acts in Jud?a and then changed his mind. Or is it possible that documents arranged Hebrew-fashion—last, first—have been interpreted Greek-fashion and consequently reversed? Allegory is most strangely mixed with fact. There is a wedding in which water is changed into wine. This is allegory. The Bride is the Church. The water of the law is changed into the wine of the gospel. After that, comes a statement that Christ spoke5 about destroying the temple and building it in three days. This is, according to Mark and Matthew, history. Luke took it as not history and left it out. John took it as history and allegory and put it in. But how differently from Mark and Matthew! Look at the passages. John often does this. I mean, that where Luke differs from Mark, John (who prefers Mark) intervenes to support the latter.”
This general remark (about John’s “preferring Mark”) agreed with what Clemens had said. As for the particular instance, I found that Scaurus was right. Mark and Matthew had mentioned a project to “destroy the temple” as having been imputed39 to Christ by false witnesses. Luke omitted it. John declared that Christ said to the Jews, “Destroy this[328] temple!” and that Christ “spoke about the temple of his body.”
“If I could believe,” continued Scaurus, “that John the son of Zebedee, the author of the Apocalypse, had any part in the production of this gospel, I should be disposed to say that he must have contributed to it, not as a scribe, but as a prophet or seer. Take, for example, the description, recorded in this gospel alone, of a flow of blood and water from the side of Christ on the cross. I do not believe for a moment that this was invented, any more than Luke’s description of the sweat of blood on the night before the crucifixion. But I should explain the two as resulting from two quite different causes, differing as the authors differ. Luke was not a seer, but a man of literature, a student of documents. He found some narrative40 based on the expression that it was ‘a night of watching and sweat’—which you know very well means in Greek ‘watching and anxious toil41.’ The narrator took this literally42. This literal interpretation43 commended itself to Luke, who desired to connect the death of Christ with the Jewish sacrificial ‘blood of sprinkling’.” I had not noticed in Luke any tradition about “sweat.” But on referring to my copy I found that, though not in the text, words of this kind were written in the margin44.
Scaurus went on to shew in detail that John’s tradition was quite different in origin. It was supported by an asseveration, “He that hath seen hath borne witness, and his witness is true; and he knoweth that he saith true that ye also may believe.” As to this, Scaurus said, “Only a little child, a baby Gaius, would use such an asseveration as ‘Gaius knows that Gaius is telling the truth.’ ‘He knoweth’ means ‘HE knoweth,’ i.e. ‘The Lord knoweth.’ HE is often thus used in the epistle that forms a sort of epilogue to this gospel. The prophet, or seer, is appealing to his Lord about the truth of the vision of blood and water, which the Lord has revealed to him. In the Bible ‘he that seeth’ is a common phrase for ‘the seer,’ a man habitually45 seeing visions. When John came back from Patmos and wrote the Apocalypse, he might naturally be called by preeminence46, ‘he that hath seen.’ Or the phrase might apply to this special vision: ‘The seer (he[329] that hath seen) hath borne witness to the vision of the stream of blood and water, and HE (i.e. the Lord) knoweth that his witness is true.’
“I do not deny that the vision is a fulfilment of a prophecy—which you may have read in the book of Zechariah—concerning a certain ‘fountain to cleanse47 sin and defilement48.’ But still I say that it is an honest, genuine, vision, not an invention. That it is not a fact could be proved, if needful. According to the other evangelists, some women were present near the cross, but no men are mentioned. It is extremely doubtful whether two streams of water and blood could issue from the side. If they had issued, and if John had been present, the soldiers would not have let him stand near enough to distinguish them. My copy of Matthew, in a marginal note, has a similar tradition, but before the death, and without any order from Pilate to kill the crucified criminals—as if a soldier would dare to do this at his own pleasure! A book called Acts of John (only recently circulated, Flaccus tells me) contains other visions of John, and, among them, some revealed during the crucifixion. The Acts is not written by the author of this new gospel, and it is very wild and fanciful; but it suggests that visions may have been falsely ascribed to John because he was known to have really seen visions (like laws falsely assigned to Numa because he was supposed to have really made laws). I take it that John the son of Zebedee may have had a vision of this kind about a ‘fountain’ of blood and water. This may have been current among the Christians for some time. My annotator49 in Matthew seems to have found it in a wildly improbable form. The new gospel gives it less improbably.”
Scaurus then commented on the contrast between what he called the “soaring” thought of the book and its occasionally “pedestrian” or vernacular50 language, as when John preserves the old traditional “crib” for “bed”—a word abominated51 by Atticists and avoided by Luke. He also commented on his ambiguities52, his subtle plays on words, his variations in the forms of words, and his veiled allusions53—utterly unlike anything that might be expected from a fisherman of Galilee—declaring[330] that the writer must have been conversant55 with the works of Philo as well as with the teaching of the Cynics.
Then he pointed56 out how Christ in this gospel never uses the word “cross” but always speaks of being “lifted up”—a phrase, he said, current among Jews as well as Roman slaves, to mean “hanged” or “crucified”: and he gave it as an instance of the writer’s irony—and of his recognition that things low in man’s eyes are high in God’s eyes—that a criminal’s death is called by this writer “being exalted,” or “being glorified57.” “Have you not”—he said—“heard your servants ever say that Geta has been ‘lifted up,’ or that Syrus has been a rich man and has ‘fed multitudes’—meaning that the poor wretch58 has been crucified and has fed multitudes of crows with his flesh on the cross?” I had often heard it; and I was astonished that such a phrase could be used in this gospel. Scaurus continued, “He uses this vernacular talk, this unfeeling slavish jest, to represent the very highest truth of Christian doctrine, that the Redeemer is to be ‘exalted’ by suffering on the cross so as to give his flesh and blood to be the food of all the world!”
According to Scaurus, although the style was very different indeed from that of Philo, and although the writer knew (what Philo did not) that the Septuagint was often erroneous, yet there was a great likeness59 between John and Philo in respect of their symbolism. Of this he gave a great number of instances. And he also quoted allusions to Jewish proverbs or sayings, one of which I will set down here, because it has given rise to an error among some of the brethren at the present day.
John represents the Jews as saying to Jesus, “Thou art not yet fifty years old.” Now, according to Scaurus, this referred to an enactment60 in the Law that the Levites must serve with laborious61 service “up to fifty years of age,” after which they are exempt62, so that the saying, “Thou art not yet fifty” meant, “Thou art but a junior Levite,” used as a term of reproach. “This enactment,” said Scaurus, “was applied63 by Philo to inferior spiritual attainment64, and, I have no doubt, was used allusively65 by John. But it might easily give the impression[331] that Christ was about fifty years old and that the Jews meant the saying literally.”
I mention this because I have myself heard the young Iren?us maintain that Christ was actually about fifty years of age. And he not only quoted John in support of this assertion but declared that it was also the opinion of the elders conversant with John. When I heard him, I remembered what Scaurus had said. I have never had any doubt that Scaurus was right. At the same time it seems to me that a Jewish allusion54 of this kind was extremely liable to be misunderstood, and that the writer of this gospel would not perhaps have set it down if he had not received it from the originator, John the son of Zebedee. This, however, is only my conjecture66. The error of Iren?us is a fact. And I could mention another of the brethren, who wrote a commentary on John, and actually altered “fifty” to “forty”—I suppose, to make sense! Both these errors arose from not understanding John’s allusion.
Then Scaurus passed to the structure of the work which, he said, under appearance of great simplicity67, and of an iteration that might sometimes seem almost garrulous68 or senile, conformed to certain Jewish rules of twofold and threefold attestation69. He shewed how the book—describing a new creation of the world—begins and ends with six days. He also shewed how the author takes pleasure in refrains of words, and cycles or repetitions of events. For example, he describes Christ as being baptized at the beginning in one Bethany and anointed at the end in another Bethany. “I could give you,” he said, “other instances of this sort of thing. The book is a poem, not a history.”
About this I was not yet able to judge; but I felt that by “poem” he did not mean “mere fiction.” For he had already admitted that the book contained historical as well as spiritual truth. And knowing his deep love of goodness, I was not altogether surprised at what came next: “O my dear Quintus, while reading this extraordinary book I have been more than once tempted70 to say, ‘Along with a great deal that I do not want, this man almost gives me what I do want—what I have been long desiring.’ I have told you how, years ago, I craved[332] for a city of truth and justice. Well, I knew the Jews were a narrow, bigoted71, and uncharitable race. No Jewish philosopher or prophet was likely to be my guide to such a city. But Isaiah was an exception. And somehow I fancied that this Jesus might be a developed Isaiah, and that his new city would have over its gates, ‘Entrance free. Not even Roman patricians72 excluded.’ But what did I find in some of the earliest gospels? In effect, this, ‘None but the lost sheep of the House of Israel admitted here!’
“Now comes this latest of all the evangelists and says, ‘We have changed all that. The old inscription73 is taken down. See the new inscription, ROOM FOR ALL! We welcome the universe. Read me, and see what I say about other sheep, and about one flock, one shepherd.’ To all which I reply, ‘Alas, my unknown but well-intentioned friend, I see, too clearly, that your friendliness74 exceeds your judgment75. You honestly think that your gospel is so good that it must be true. You are not, I feel sure, decoying me—not consciously at least. You are the decoy bird. You have been decoyed yourself to decoy others. But Scaurus is too old a bird to be caught in such a manifest net. Whence this new doctrine? Why was it not in the earliest gospels?’ I think John would find it hard to answer that question! If I had come to Jesus the Nazarene and said to him, ‘What shall I do to inherit eternal life?’ I doubt not that he would have replied to me, ‘Marcus ?milius Scaurus, you doubtless think yourself a great person, as much superior to the low born Pontius Pilate as Pilate thinks himself superior to me. Understand, then, that I have no message for you. You know what name I gave to the Syroph?nician woman. I give the same to you’.”
This passage was written in very large irregular characters, especially towards the close, quite unlike my old friend’s usual hand. Then followed these words, in his own neat regular writing—as though he had been interrupted and resumed his pen in a cooler mood—“Let me try to be honest. I may have said rather more than I meant. I meant this fifteen years ago. Perhaps I mean it still. But after reading this new gospel, I feel somewhat less certain. Still, I fear that the truth may be as I have said.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
Christians
|
|
| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
doctrine
|
|
| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
eyewitnesses
|
|
| 目击者( eyewitness的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
inadequate
|
|
| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
scroll
|
|
| n.卷轴，纸卷；(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
begotten
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
constraining
|
|
| 强迫( constrain的现在分词 )； 强使； 限制； 约束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
reassured
|
|
| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
apprehensions
|
|
| 疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
banished
|
|
| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
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： |
|
|
|
|
18
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
secondly
|
|
| adv.第二，其次 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
stoic
|
|
| n.坚忍克己之人，禁欲主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
philosophic
|
|
| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
unreasonable
|
|
| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
unity
|
|
| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
incarnate
|
|
| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
disciples
|
|
| n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 )；门徒；耶稣的信徒；（尤指）耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
platonic
|
|
| adj.精神的；柏拉图（哲学）的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
treatise
|
|
| n.专著；(专题)论文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
precept
|
|
| n.戒律；格言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
descends
|
|
| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
epithet
|
|
| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
beguiling
|
|
| adj.欺骗的，诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
terseness
|
|
| 简洁，精练 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
prologue
|
|
| n.开场白，序言；开端，序幕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
oracle
|
|
| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
imputed
|
|
| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
interpretation
|
|
| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
margin
|
|
| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
habitually
|
|
| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
preeminence
|
|
| n.卓越,杰出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
cleanse
|
|
| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
defilement
|
|
| n.弄脏，污辱，污秽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
annotator
|
|
| n.注释者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
50
vernacular
|
|
| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
abominated
|
|
| v.憎恶，厌恶，不喜欢( abominate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
ambiguities
|
|
| n.歧义( ambiguity的名词复数 )；意义不明确；模棱两可的意思；模棱两可的话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
allusions
|
|
| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
allusion
|
|
| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
conversant
|
|
| adj.亲近的，有交情的，熟悉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
glorified
|
|
| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
enactment
|
|
| n.演出，担任…角色；制订，通过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
laborious
|
|
| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
exempt
|
|
| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
attainment
|
|
| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
allusively
|
|
| adj.暗指的，影射，间接提到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
garrulous
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
attestation
|
|
| n.证词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
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： |
|
|
|
|
71
bigoted
|
|
| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
patricians
|
|
| n.（古罗马的）统治阶层成员( patrician的名词复数 )；贵族，显贵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |