In one yard I observed a single, very healthy-looking tree, while all the rest were dead or dying. The occupant said that his father had manured all but that one with blackfish.
This habit of growth should, no doubt, be encouraged; and they should not be trimmed up, as some travelling practitioners34 have advised. In 1802 there was not a single fruit-tree in Chatham, the next town to Orleans, on the south; and the old account of Orleans says: “Fruit-trees cannot be made to grow within a mile of the ocean. Even those which are placed at a greater distance are injured by the east winds; and, after violent storms in the spring, a saltish taste is perceptible on their bark.” We noticed that they were often covered with a yellow lichen-like rust13, the Parmelia parietina.
The most foreign and picturesque35 structures on the Cape, to an inlander, not excepting the salt-works, are the wind-mills,—gray-looking octagonal towers, with long timbers slanting36 to the ground in the rear, and there resting on a cart-wheel, by which their fans are turned round to face the wind. These appeared also to serve in some measure for props37 against its force. A great circular rut was worn around the building by the wheel. The neighbors who assemble to turn the mill to the wind are likely to know which way it blows, without a weathercock. They looked loose and slightly locomotive, like huge wounded birds, trailing a wing or a leg, and re-minded one of pictures of the Netherlands. Being on elevated ground, and high in themselves, they serve as landmarks,—for there are no tall trees, or other objects commonly, which can be seen at a distance in the horizon; though the outline of the land itself is so firm and distinct that an insignificant38 cone39, or even precipice40 of sand, is visible at a great distance from over the sea. Sailors making the land commonly steer41 either by the wind-mills or the meeting-houses. In the country, we are obliged to steer by the meeting-houses alone. Yet the meeting-house is a kind of wind-mill, which runs one day in seven, turned either by the winds of doctrine42 or public opinion, or more rarely by the winds of Heaven, where another sort of grist is ground, of which, if it be not all bran or musty, if it be not plaster, we trust to make bread of life.
There were, here and there, heaps of shells in the fields, where clams44 had been opened for bait; for Orleans is famous for its shell-fish, especially clams, or, as our author says, “to speak more properly, worms.” The shores are more fertile than the dry land. The inhabitants measure their crops, not only by bushels of corn, but by barrels of clams. A thousand barrels of clam43-bait are counted as equal in value to six or eight thousand bushels of Indian corn, and once they were procured45 without more labor46 or expense, and the supply was thought to be inexhaustible. “For,” runs the history, “after a portion of the shore has been dug over, and almost all the clams taken up, at the end of two years, it is said, they are as plenty there as ever. It is even affirmed by many persons, that it is as necessary to stir the clam ground frequently as it is to hoe a field of potatoes; because, if this labor is omitted, the clams will be crowded too closely together, and will be prevented from increasing in size.” But we were told that the small clam, Mya arenaria, was not so plenty here as formerly48. Probably the clam ground has been stirred too frequently, after all. Nevertheless, one man, who complained that they fed pigs with them and so made them scarce, told me that he dug and opened one hundred and twenty-six dollars’ worth in one winter, in Truro.
We crossed a brook49, not more than fourteen rods long, between Orleans and Eastham, called Jeremiah’s Gutter50. The Atlantic is said sometimes to meet the Bay here, and isolate51 the northern part of the Cape. The streams of the Cape are necessarily formed on a minute scale, since there is no room for them to run, without tumbling immediately into the sea; and beside, we found it difficult to run ourselves in that sand, when there was no want of room. Hence, the least channel where water runs, or may run, is important, and is dignified52 with a name. We read that there is no running water in Chatham, which is the next town. The barren aspect of the land would hardly be believed if described. It was such soil, or rather land, as, to judge from appearances, no farmer in the interior would think of cultivating, or even fencing. Generally, the ploughed fields of the Cape look white and yellow, like a mixture of salt and Indian meal. This is called soil. All an inlander’s notions of soil and fertility will be confounded by a visit to these parts, and he will not be able, for some time afterward, to distinguish soil from sand. The historian of Chatham says of a part of that town, which has been gained from the sea: “There is a doubtful appearance of a soil beginning to be formed. It is styled doubtful, because it would not be observed by every eye, and perhaps not acknowledged by many.” We thought that this would not be a bad description of the greater part of the Cape. There is a “beach” on the west side of Eastham, which we crossed the next summer, half a mile wide, and stretching across the township, containing seventeen hundred acres, on which there is not now a particle of vegetable mould, though it formerly produced wheat. All sands are here called “beaches,” whether they are waves of water or of air that dash against them, since they commonly have their origin on the shore. “The sand in some places,” says the historian of Eastham, “lodging against the beach-grass, has been raised into hills fifty feet high, where twenty-five years ago no hills existed. In others it has filled up small valleys, and swamps. Where a strong-rooted bush stood, the appearance is singular: a mass of earth and sand adheres to it, resembling a small tower. In several places, rocks, which were formerly covered with soil, are disclosed, and being lashed53 by the sand, driven against them by the wind, look as if they were recently dug from a quarry54.”
We were surprised to hear of the great crops of corn which are still raised in Eastham, notwithstanding the real and apparent barrenness. Our landlord in Orleans had told us that he raised three or four hundred bushels of corn annually55, and also of the great number of pigs which he fattened56. In Champlain’s “Voyages,” there is a plate representing the Indian cornfields hereabouts, with their wigwams in the midst, as they appeared in 1605, and it was here that the Pilgrims, to quote their own words, “bought eight or ten hogsheads of corn and beans” of the Nauset Indians, in 1622, to keep themselves from starving.[1]
“In 1667 the town [of Eastham] voted that every housekeeper57 should kill twelve blackbirds or three crows, which did great damage to the corn; and this vote was repeated for many years.” In 1695 an additional order was passed, namely, that “every unmarried man in the township shall kill six blackbirds, or three crows, while he remains58 single; as a penalty for not doing it, shall not be married until he obey this order.” The blackbirds, however, still molest59 the corn. I saw them at it the next summer, and there were many scarecrows, if not scare-blackbirds, in the fields, which I often mistook for men.
From which I concluded that either many men were not married, or many blackbirds were. Yet they put but three or four kernels60 in a hill, and let fewer plants remain than we do. In the account of Eastham, in the “Historical Collections,” printed in 1802, it is said, that “more corn is produced than the inhabitants consume, and about a thousand bushels are annually sent to market. The soil being free from stones, a plough passes through it speedily; and after the corn has come up, a small Cape horse, somewhat larger than a goat, will, with the assistance of two boys, easily hoe three or four acres in a day; several farmers are accustomed to produce five hundred bushels of grain annually, and not long since one raised eight hundred bushels on sixty acres.” Similar accounts are given to-day; indeed, the recent accounts are in some instances suspectable repetitions of the old, and I have no doubt that their statements are as often founded on the exception as the rule, and that by far the greater number of acres are as barren as they appear to be. It is sufficiently61 remarkable62 that any crops can be raised here, and it may be owing, as others have suggested, to the amount of moisture in the atmosphere, the warmth of the sand, and the rareness of frosts. A miller63, who was sharpening his stones, told me that, forty years ago, he had been to a husking here, where five hundred bushels were husked in one evening, and the corn was piled six feet high or more, in the midst, but now, fifteen or eighteen bushels to an acre were an average yield. I never saw fields of such puny64 and unpromising looking corn as in this town. Probably the inhabitants are contented65 with small crops from a great surface easily cultivated. It is not always the most fertile land that is the most profitable, and this sand may repay cultivation66, as well as the fertile bottoms of the West. It is said, moreover, that the vegetables raised in the sand, without manure32, are remarkably67 sweet, the pumpkins68 especially, though when their seed is planted in the interior they soon degenerate69. I can testify that the vegetables here, when they succeed at all, look remarkably green and healthy, though perhaps it is partly by contrast with the sand. Yet the inhabitants of the Cape towns, generally, do not raise their own meal or pork. Their gardens are commonly little patches, that have been redeemed70 from the edges of the marshes and swamps.
All the morning we had heard the sea roar on the eastern shore, which was several miles distant; for it still felt the effects of the storm in which the St. John was wrecked,—though a school-boy, whom we overtook, hardly knew what we meant, his ears were so used to it. He would have more plainly heard the same sound in a shell. It was a very inspiriting sound to walk by, filling the whole air, that of the sea dashing against the land, heard several miles inland. Instead of having a dog to growl71 before your door, to have an Atlantic Ocean to growl for a whole Cape! On the whole, we were glad of the storm, which would show us the ocean in its angriest mood. Charles Darwin was assured that the roar of the surf on the coast of Chiloe, after a heavy gale72, could be heard at night a distance of “21 sea miles across a hilly and wooded country.” We conversed73 with the boy we have mentioned, who might have been eight years old, making him walk the while under the lee of our umbrella; for we thought it as important to know what was life on the Cape to a boy as to a man. We learned from him where the best grapes were to be found in that neighborhood. He was carrying his dinner in a pail; and, without any impertinent questions being put by us, it did at length appear of what it consisted. The homeliest facts are always the most acceptable to an inquiring mind. At length, before we got to Eastham meeting-house, we left the road and struck across the country for the eastern shore at Nauset Lights,—three lights close together, two or three miles distant from us. They were so many that they might be distinguished75 from others; but this seemed a shiftless and costly76 way of accomplishing that object. We found ourselves at once on an apparently77 boundless78 plain, without a tree or a fence, or, with one or two exceptions, a house in sight. Instead of fences, the earth was sometimes thrown up into a slight ridge79. My companion compared it to the rolling prairies of Illinois. In the storm of wind and rain which raged when we traversed it, it no doubt appeared more vast and desolate80 than it really is. As there were no hills, but only here and there a dry hollow in the midst of the waste, and the distant horizon was concealed81 by mist, we did not know whether it was high or low. A solitary82 traveller whom we saw perambulating in the distance loomed83 like a giant. He appeared to walk slouchingly, as if held up from above by straps84 under his shoulders, as much as supported by the plain below. Men and boys would have appeared alike at a little distance, there being no object by which to measure them. Indeed, to an inlander, the Cape landscape is a constant mirage85. This kind of country extended a mile or two each way. These were the “Plains of Nauset,” once covered with wood, where in winter the winds howl and the snow blows right merrily in the face of the traveller. I was glad to have got out of the towns, where I am wont86 to feel unspeakably mean and disgraced,—to have left behind me for a season the bar-rooms of Massachusetts, where the full-grown are not weaned from savage87 and filthy88 habits,—still sucking a cigar. My spirits rose in proportion to the outward dreariness89. The towns need to be ventilated. The gods would be pleased to see some pure flames from their altars. They are not to be appeased90 with cigar-smoke.
As we thus skirted the back-side of the towns, for we did not enter any village, till we got to Provincetown, we read their histories under our umbrellas, rarely meeting anybody. The old accounts are the richest in topography, which was what we wanted most; and, indeed, in most things else, for I find that the readable parts of the modern accounts of these towns consist, in a great measure, of quotations91, acknowledged and unacknowledged, from the older ones, without any additional information of equal interest;—town histories, which at length run into a history of the Church of that place, that being the only story they have to tell, and conclude by quoting the Latin epitaphs of the old pastors92, having been written in the good old days of Latin and of Greek. They will go back to the ordination93 of every minister and tell you faithfully who made the introductory prayer, and who delivered the sermon; who made the ordaining95 prayer, and who gave the charge; who extended the right hand of fellowship, and who pronounced the benediction96; also how many ecclesiastical councils convened97 from time to time to inquire into the orthodoxy of some minister, and the names of all who composed them. As it will take us an hour to get over this plain, and there is no variety in the prospect98, peculiar99 as it is, I will read a little in the history of Eastham the while.
When the committee from Plymouth had purchased the territory of Eastham of the Indians, “it was demanded, who laid claim to Billingsgate?” which was understood to be all that part of the Cape north of what they had purchased. “The answer was, there was not any who owned it. ‘Then,’ said the committee, ‘that land is ours.’ The Indians answered, that it was.” This was a remarkable assertion and admission. The Pilgrims appear to have regarded themselves as Not Any’s representatives. Perhaps this was the first instance of that quiet way of “speaking for” a place not yet occupied, or at least not improved as much as it may be, which their descendants have practised, and are still practising so extensively. Not Any seems to have been the sole proprietor100 of all America before the Yankees. But history says that, when the Pilgrims had held the lands of Billingsgate many years, at length “appeared an Indian, who styled himself Lieutenant101 Anthony,” who laid claim to them, and of him they bought them. Who knows but a Lieutenant Anthony may be knocking at the door of the White House some day? At any rate, I know that if you hold a thing unjustly, there will surely be the devil to pay at last.
Thomas Prince, who was several times the governor of the Plymouth colony, was the leader of the settlement of Eastham. There was recently standing, on what was once his farm, in this town, a pear-tree which is said to have been brought from England, and planted there by him, about two hundred years ago. It was blown down a few months before we were there. A late account says that it was recently in a vigorous state; the fruit small, but excellent; and it yielded on an average fifteen bushels. Some appropriate lines have been addressed to it, by a Mr. Heman Doane, from which I will quote, partly because they are the only specimen102 of Cape Cod103 verse which I remember to have seen, and partly because they are not bad.
“Two hundred years have, on the wings of Time,
Transplanted from the soil beyond the sea.”
[These stars represent the more clerical lines, and also those which have deceased.]
“That exiled band long since have passed away,
And still, Old Tree I thou standest in the place
Where Prince’s hand did plant thee in his day,—
An undesigned memorial of his race
And time; of those out honored fathers,
when They came from Plymouth o’er and settled here;
And bowed thee with the weight of many years;
Yet ’mid the frosts of age, thy bloom we see,
There are some other lines which I might quote, if they were not tied to unworthy companions by the rhyme. When one ox will lie down, the yoke111 bears hard on him that stands up.
One of the first settlers of Eastham was Deacon John Doane, who died in 1707, aged33 one hundred and ten. Tradition says that he was rocked in a cradle several of his last years. That, certainly, was not an Achillean life. His mother must have let him slip when she dipped him into the liquor which was to make him invulnerable, and he went in, heels and all. Some of the stone-bounds to his farm which he set up are standing to-day, with his initials cut in them.
The ecclesiastical history of this town interested us somewhat. It appears that “they very early built a small meeting-house, twenty feet square, with a thatched roof through which they might fire their muskets,”—of course, at the Devil. “In 1662, the town agreed that a part of every whale cast on shore be appropriated for the support of the ministry112.” No doubt there seemed to be some propriety113 in thus leaving the support of the ministers to Providence114, whose servants they are, and who alone rules the storms; for, when few whales were cast up, they might suspect that their worship was not acceptable. The ministers must have sat upon the cliffs in every storm, and watched the shore with anxiety. And, for my part, if I were a minister I would rather trust to the bowels115 of the billows, on the back-side of Cape Cod, to cast up a whale for me, than to the generosity116 of many a country parish that I know. You cannot say of a country minister’s salary, commonly, that it is “very like a whale.” Nevertheless, the minister who depended on whales cast up must have had a trying time of it. I would rather have gone to the Falkland Isles117 with a harpoon118, and done with it. Think of a w hale having the breath of life beaten out of him by a storm, and dragging in over the bars and guzzles119, for the support of the ministry! What a consolation120 it must have been to him! I have heard of a minister, who had been a fisherman, being settled in Bridgewater for as long a time as he could tell a cod from a haddock. Generous as it seems, this condition would empty most country pulpits forthwith, for it is long since the fishers of men were fishermen. Also, a duty was put on mackerel here to support a free-school; in other words, the mackerel-school was taxed in order that the children’s school might be free. “In 1665 the Court passed a law to inflict121 corporal punishment on all persons, who resided in the towns of this government, who denied the Scriptures122.” Think of a man being whipped on a spring morning till he was constrained123 to confess that the Scriptures were true! “It was also voted by the town that all persons who should stand out of the meeting-house during the time of divine service should be set in the stocks.” It behooved125 such a town to see that sitting in the meeting-house was nothing akin31 to sitting in the stocks, lest the penalty of obedience126 to the law might be greater than that of disobedience. This was the Eastham famous of late years for its camp-meetings, held in a grove127 near by, to which thousands flock from all parts of the Bay. We conjectured128 that the reason for the perhaps unusual, if not unhealthful, development of the religious sentiment here was the fact that a large portion of the population are women whose husbands and sons are either abroad on the sea, or else drowned, and there is nobody but they and the ministers left behind. The old account says that “hysteric fits are very common in Orleans, Eastham, and the towns below, particularly on Sunday, in the times of divine service. When one woman is affected129, five or six others generally sympathize with her; and the congregation is thrown into the utmost confusion. Several old men suppose, unphilosophically and uncharitably, perhaps, that the will is partly concerned, and that ridicule130 and threats would have a tendency to prevent the evil.” How this is now we did not learn. We saw one singularly masculine woman, however, in a house on this very plain, who did not look as if she was ever troubled with hysterics, or sympathized with those that were; or, perchance, life itself was to her a hysteric fit,—a Nauset woman, of a hardness and coarseness such as no man ever possesses or suggests. It was enough to see the vertebrae and sinews of her neck, and her set jaws131 of iron, which would have bitten a board-nail in two in their ordinary action,—braced against the world, talking like a man-of-war’s-man in petticoats, or as if shouting to you through a breaker; who looked as if it made her head ache to live; hard enough for any enormity. I looked upon her as one who had committed infanticide; who never had a brother, unless it were some wee thins: that died in infancy,—for what need of him?—and whose father must have died before she was born. This woman told us that the camp-meetings were not held the previous summer for fear of introducing the cholera132, and that they would have been held earlier this summer, but the rye was so backward that straw would not have been re adv for them; for they He in straw. There are sometimes one hundred and fifty ministers (!) and five thousand hearers assembled. The ground, which is called Millennium133 Grove, is owned by a company in Boston, and is the most suitable, or rather unsuitable, for this purpose of any that I saw on the Cape. It is fenced, and the frames of the tents are at all times to be seen interspersed134 among the oaks. They have an oven and a pump, and keep all their kitchen utensils135 and tent coverings and furniture in a permanent building on the spot. They select a time for their meetings when the moon is full. A man is appointed to clear out the pump a week beforehand, while the ministers are clearing their throats; but, probably, the latter do not always deliver as pure a stream as the former. I saw the heaps of clam-shells left under the tables, where they had feasted in previous summers, and supposed, of course, that that was the work of the unconverted, or the backsliders and scoffers. It looked as if a camp-meeting must be a singular combination of a prayer-meeting and a picnic.
The first minister settled here was the Rev47. Samuel Treat, in 1672, a gentleman who is said to be “entitled to a distinguished rank among the evangelists of New England.” He converted many Indians, as well as white men, in his day, and translated the Confession136 of Faith into the Nauset language. These were the Indians concerning whom their first teacher, Richard Bourne, wrote to Gookin, in 1674, that he had been to see one who was sick, “and there came from him very savory137 and heavenly expressions,” but, with regard to the mass of them, he says, “the truth is, that many of them are very loose in their course, to my heartbreaking sorrow.” Mr. Treat is described as a Calvinist of the strictest kind, not one of those who, by giving up or explaining away, become like a porcupine138 disarmed139 of its quills140, but a consistent Calvinist, who can dart141 his quills to a distance and courageously142 defend himself. There exists a volume of his sermons in manuscript, “which,” says a commentator143, “appear to have been designed for publication.” I quote the following sentences at second hand, from a Discourse144 on Luke xvi. 23, addressed to sinners:—
“Thou must erelong go to the bottomless pit. Hell hath enlarged herself, and is ready to receive thee. There is room enough for thy entertainment....
“Consider, thou art going to a place prepared by God on purpose to exalt145 his justice in,—a place made for no other employment but torments146. Hell is God’s house of correction; and, remember, God doth all things like himself. When God would show his justice, and what is the weight of his wrath147, he makes a hell where it shall, indeed, appear to purpose.... Woe105 to thy soul when thou shalt be set up as a butt148 for the arrows of the Almighty149....
“Consider, God himself shall be the principal agent in thy misery,—his breath is the bellows150 which blows up the flame of hell forever;—and if he punish thee, if he meet thee in his fury, he will not meet thee as a man; he will give thee an omnipotent151 blow.”
“Some think sinning ends with this life; but it is a mistake. The creature is held under an everlasting152 law; the damned increase in sin in hell. Possibly, the mention of this may please thee. But, remember, there shall be no pleasant sins there; no eating, drinking, singing, dancing, wanton dalliance, and drinking stolen waters, but damned sins, bitter, hellish sins; sins exasperated153 by torments, cursing God, spite, rage, and blasphemy154.—The guilt155 of all thy sins shall be laid upon thy soul, and be made so many heaps of fuel....
“Sinner, I beseech156 thee, realize the truth of these things. Do not go about to dream that this is derogatory to God’s mercy, and nothing but a vain fable157 to scare children out of their wits withal. God can be merciful, though he make thee miserable158. He shall have monuments enough of that precious attribute, shining like stars in the place of glory, and singing eternal hallelujahs to the praise of Him that redeemed them, though, to exalt the power of his justice, he damn sinners heaps upon heaps.”
“But,” continues the same writer, “with the advantage of proclaiming the doctrine of terror, which is naturally productive of a sublime159 and impressive style of eloquence160 (‘Triumphat ventoso gloriæ curru orator161, qui pectus angit, irritat, et implet terroribus.’ Vid. Burnet, De Stat. Mort., p. 309), he could not attain162 the character of a popular preacher. His voice was so loud that it could be heard at a great distance from the meeting-house, even amidst the shrieks163 of hysterical164 women, and the winds that howled over the plains of Nauset; but there was no more music in it than in the discordant165 sounds with which it was mingled166.”
“The effect of such preaching,” it is said, “was that his hearers were several times, in the course of his ministry, awakened167 and alarmed; and on one occasion a comparatively innocent young man was frightened nearly out of his wits, and Mr. Treat had to exert himself to make hell seem somewhat cooler to him”; yet we are assured that “Treat’s manners were cheerful, his conversation pleasant, and sometimes facetious168, but always decent. He was fond of a stroke of humor, and a practical joke, and manifested his relish169 for them by long and loud fits of laughter.”
This was the man of whom a well-known anecdote170 is told, which doubtless many of my readers have heard, but which, nevertheless, I will venture to quote:—
“After his marriage with the daughter of Mr. Willard (pastor of the South Church in Boston), he was sometimes invited by that gentleman to preach in his pulpit. Mr. Willard possessed171 a graceful172 delivery, a masculine and harmonious173 voice; and, though he did not gain much reputation by his ‘Body of Divinity,’ which is frequently sneered174 at, particularly by those who have read it, yet in his sermons are strength of thought and energy of language. The natural consequence was that he was generally admired. Mr. Treat having preached one of his best discourses175 to the congregation of his father-in-law, in his usual unhappy manner, excited universal disgust; and several nice judges waited on Mr. Willard, and begged that Mr. Treat, who was a worthy, pious176 man, it was true, but a wretched preacher, might never be invited into his pulpit again. To this request Mr. Willard made no reply; but he desired his son-in-law to lend him the discourse; which being left with him, he delivered it without alteration177 to his people a few weeks after. They ran to Mr. Willard and requested a copy for the press. ‘See the difference,’ they cried, ‘between yourself and your son-in-law; you have preached a sermon on the same text as Mr. Treat’s, but whilst his was contemptible178, yours is excellent.’ As is observed in a note, ‘Mr. Willard, after producing the sermon in the handwriting of Mr. Treat, might have addressed these sage179 critics in the words of Phaedrus,
“‘En hic declarat, quales sitis judices.’”[2]
Mr. Treat died of a stroke of the palsy, just after the memorable180 storm known as the Great Snow, which left the ground around his house entirely181 bare, but heaped up the snow in the road to an uncommon182 height. Through this an arched way was dug, by which the Indians bore his bod to the grave.
The reader will imagine us, all the while, steadily183 traversing that extensive plain in a direction a little north of east toward Nauset Beach, and reading under our umbrellas as we sailed, while it blowed hard with mingled mist and rain, as if we were approaching a fit anniversary of Mr. Treat’s funeral. We fancied that it was such a moor184 as that on which somebody perished in the snow, as is related in the “Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life.”
The next minister settled here was the “Rev. Samuel Osborn, who was born in Ireland, and educated at the University of Dublin.” He is said to have been “A man of wisdom and virtue185,” and taught his people the use of peat, and the art of drying and preparing it, which as they had scarcely any other fuel, was a great blessing186 to them. He also introduced improvements in agriculture. But, notwithstanding his many services, as he embraced the religion of Arminius, some of his flock became dissatisfied. At length, an ecclesiastical council, consisting of ten ministers, with their churches, sat upon him, and they, naturally enough, spoiled his usefulness. The council convened at the desire of two divine philosophers,—Joseph Doane and Nathaniel Freeman.
In their report they say, “It appears to the council that the Rev. Mr. Osborn hath, in his preaching to this people, said, that what Christ did and suffered doth nothing abate187 or diminish our obligation to obey the law of God, and that Christ’s suffering and obedience were for himself; both parts of which, we think, contain dangerous error.”
“Also: ‘It hath been said, and doth appear to this council, that the Rev. Mr. Osborn, both in public and in private, asserted that there are no promises in the Bible but what are conditional188, which we think, also, to be an error, and do say that there are promises which are absolute and without any condition,—such as the promise of a new heart, and that he will write his law in our hearts.’”
“Also, they say, ‘it hath been alleged189, and doth appear to us, that Mr. Osborn hath declared, that obedience is a considerable cause of a person’s justification190, which, we think, contains very dangerous error.’”
And many the like distinctions they made, such as some of my readers, probably, are more familiar with than I am. So, far in the East, among the Yezidis, or Worshippers of the Devil, so-called, the Chaldaeans, and others, according to the testimony191 of travellers, you may still hear these remarkable disputations on doctrinal points going on. Osborn was, accordingly, dismissed, and he removed to Boston, where he kept school for many years. But he was fully94 justified192, methinks, by his works in the peat-meadow; one proof of which is, that he lived to be between ninety and one hundred years old.
The next minister was the Rev. Benjamin Webb, of whom, though a neighboring clergy-man pronounced him “the best man and the best minister whom he ever knew,” yet the historian says that,
“As he spent his days in the uniform discharge of his duty (it reminds one of a country muster) and there were no shades to give relief to his character, not much can be said of him. (Pity the Devil did not plant a few shade-trees along his avenues.) His heart was as pure as the new-fallen snow, which completely covers every dark spot in a field; his mind was as serene193 as the sky in a mild evening in June, when the moon shines without a cloud. Name any virtue, and that virtue he practised; name any vice124, and that vice he shunned194. But if peculiar qualities marked his character, they were his humility195, his gentleness, and his love of God. The people had long been taught by a son of thunder (Mr. Treat): in him they were instructed by a son of consolation, who sweetly allured196 them to virtue by soft persuasion197, and by exhibiting the mercy of the Supreme198 Being; for his thoughts were so much in heaven that they seldom descended199 to the dismal200 regions below; and though of the same religious sentiments as Mr. Treat, yet his attention was turned to those glad tidings of great joy which a Saviour201 came to publish.”
We were interested to hear that such a man had trodden the plains of Nauset.
Turning over further in our book, our eyes fell on the name of the Rev. Jonathan Bascom, of Orleans; “Senex emunctæ naris, doctus, et auctor elegantium verborum, facetus, et dulcis festique sermonis.” And, again, on that of the Rev. Nathan Stone, of Dennis: “Vir humilis, mitis, blandus, advenarum hospes; (there was need of him there;) suis commodis in terrâ non studens, reconditis thesauris in cœlo.” An easy virtue that, there, for methinks no inhabitant of Dennis could be very studious about his earthly commodity, but must regard the bulk of his treasures as in heaven. But probably the most just and pertinent74 character of all is that which appears to be given to the Rev. Ephraim Briggs, of Chatham, in the language of the later Romans, “Seip, sepoese, sepoemese, wechekum,”—which not being interpreted, we know not what it means, though we have no doubt it occurs somewhere in the Scriptures, probably in the Apostle Eliot’s Epistle to the Nipmucks.
Let no one think that I do not love the old ministers. They were, probably, the best men of their generation, and they deserve that their biographies should fill the pages of the town histories. If I could but hear the “glad tidings” of which they tell, and which, perchance, they heard, I might write in a worthier202 strain than this.
There was no better way to make the reader realize how wide and peculiar that plain was, and how long it took to traverse it, than by inserting these extracts in the midst of my narrative203.
点击收听单词发音
1 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 creeks | |
n.小湾( creek的名词复数 );小港;小河;小溪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 marshes | |
n.沼泽,湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 obstruction | |
n.阻塞,堵塞;障碍物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 tavern | |
n.小旅馆,客栈;小酒店 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 inconvenient | |
adj.不方便的,令人感到麻烦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 cape | |
n.海角,岬;披肩,短披风 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 swells | |
增强( swell的第三人称单数 ); 肿胀; (使)凸出; 充满(激情) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 bleak | |
adj.(天气)阴冷的;凄凉的;暗淡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 rust | |
n.锈;v.生锈;(脑子)衰退 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 scarcity | |
n.缺乏,不足,萧条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 mariners | |
海员,水手(mariner的复数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 ashore | |
adv.在(向)岸上,上岸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 postures | |
姿势( posture的名词复数 ); 看法; 态度; 立场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 gulls | |
n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 rib | |
n.肋骨,肋状物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 orchards | |
(通常指围起来的)果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 orchard | |
n.果园,果园里的全部果树,(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 dwarfed | |
vt.(使)显得矮小(dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 tar | |
n.柏油,焦油;vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 highland | |
n.(pl.)高地,山地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 shrubby | |
adj.灌木的,灌木一般的,灌木繁茂著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 grafted | |
移植( graft的过去式和过去分词 ); 嫁接; 使(思想、制度等)成为(…的一部份); 植根 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 akin | |
adj.同族的,类似的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 manure | |
n.粪,肥,肥粒;vt.施肥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 practitioners | |
n.习艺者,实习者( practitioner的名词复数 );从业者(尤指医师) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 slanting | |
倾斜的,歪斜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 props | |
小道具; 支柱( prop的名词复数 ); 支持者; 道具; (橄榄球中的)支柱前锋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 cone | |
n.圆锥体,圆锥形东西,球果 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 precipice | |
n.悬崖,危急的处境 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 steer | |
vt.驾驶,为…操舵;引导;vi.驾驶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 clam | |
n.蛤,蛤肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 clams | |
n.蛤;蚌,蛤( clam的名词复数 )v.(在沙滩上)挖蛤( clam的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 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: |
|
|
46 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 gutter | |
n.沟,街沟,水槽,檐槽,贫民窟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 isolate | |
vt.使孤立,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 quarry | |
n.采石场;v.采石;费力地找 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 annually | |
adv.一年一次,每年 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 fattened | |
v.喂肥( fatten的过去式和过去分词 );养肥(牲畜);使(钱)增多;使(公司)升值 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 molest | |
vt.骚扰,干扰,调戏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 kernels | |
谷粒( kernel的名词复数 ); 仁; 核; 要点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 miller | |
n.磨坊主 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 puny | |
adj.微不足道的,弱小的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 cultivation | |
n.耕作,培养,栽培(法),养成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 pumpkins | |
n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 );南瓜的果肉,南瓜囊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 degenerate | |
v.退步,堕落;adj.退步的,堕落的;n.堕落者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 redeemed | |
adj. 可赎回的,可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 growl | |
v.(狗等)嗥叫,(炮等)轰鸣;n.嗥叫,轰鸣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 gale | |
n.大风,强风,一阵闹声(尤指笑声等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 pertinent | |
adj.恰当的;贴切的;中肯的;有关的;相干的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 boundless | |
adj.无限的;无边无际的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 loomed | |
v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 straps | |
n.带子( strap的名词复数 );挎带;肩带;背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 );用皮带抽打;包扎;给…打绷带 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 mirage | |
n.海市蜃楼,幻景 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 filthy | |
adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 dreariness | |
沉寂,可怕,凄凉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 appeased | |
安抚,抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 ); 绥靖(满足另一国的要求以避免战争) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 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: |
|
|
92 pastors | |
n.(基督教的)牧师( pastor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 ordination | |
n.授任圣职 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 ordaining | |
v.任命(某人)为牧师( ordain的现在分词 );授予(某人)圣职;(上帝、法律等)命令;判定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 benediction | |
n.祝福;恩赐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 convened | |
召开( convene的过去式 ); 召集; (为正式会议而)聚集; 集合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 cod | |
n.鳕鱼;v.愚弄;哄骗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 woes | |
困境( woe的名词复数 ); 悲伤; 我好苦哇; 某人就要倒霉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 revere | |
vt.尊崇,崇敬,敬畏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 boughs | |
大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 mellow | |
adj.柔和的;熟透的;v.变柔和;(使)成熟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 yoke | |
n.轭;支配;v.给...上轭,连接,使成配偶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 ministry | |
n.(政府的)部;牧师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 bowels | |
n.肠,内脏,内部;肠( bowel的名词复数 );内部,最深处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 isles | |
岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 harpoon | |
n.鱼叉;vt.用鱼叉叉,用鱼叉捕获 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 guzzles | |
v.狂吃暴饮,大吃大喝( guzzle的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 inflict | |
vt.(on)把…强加给,使遭受,使承担 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 scriptures | |
经文,圣典( scripture的名词复数 ); 经典 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 constrained | |
adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 behooved | |
v.适宜( behoove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 grove | |
n.林子,小树林,园林 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 conjectured | |
推测,猜测,猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 ridicule | |
v.讥讽,挖苦;n.嘲弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 jaws | |
n.口部;嘴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 cholera | |
n.霍乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 millennium | |
n.一千年,千禧年;太平盛世 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 interspersed | |
adj.[医]散开的;点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 utensils | |
器具,用具,器皿( utensil的名词复数 ); 器物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 confession | |
n.自白,供认,承认 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 savory | |
adj.风味极佳的,可口的,味香的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 porcupine | |
n.豪猪, 箭猪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 disarmed | |
v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 );使息怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 quills | |
n.(刺猬或豪猪的)刺( quill的名词复数 );羽毛管;翮;纡管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 dart | |
v.猛冲,投掷;n.飞镖,猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 courageously | |
ad.勇敢地,无畏地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 commentator | |
n.注释者,解说者;实况广播评论员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 exalt | |
v.赞扬,歌颂,晋升,提升 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 torments | |
(肉体或精神上的)折磨,痛苦( torment的名词复数 ); 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 almighty | |
adj.全能的,万能的;很大的,很强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 bellows | |
n.风箱;发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的名词复数 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的第三人称单数 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 omnipotent | |
adj.全能的,万能的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 everlasting | |
adj.永恒的,持久的,无止境的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 blasphemy | |
n.亵渎,渎神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 beseech | |
v.祈求,恳求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 orator | |
n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 shrieks | |
n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 hysterical | |
adj.情绪异常激动的,歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 discordant | |
adj.不调和的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 facetious | |
adj.轻浮的,好开玩笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 anecdote | |
n.轶事,趣闻,短故事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 harmonious | |
adj.和睦的,调和的,和谐的,协调的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 sneered | |
讥笑,冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 discourses | |
论文( discourse的名词复数 ); 演说; 讲道; 话语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 pious | |
adj.虔诚的;道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 alteration | |
n.变更,改变;蚀变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 contemptible | |
adj.可鄙的,可轻视的,卑劣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 sage | |
n.圣人,哲人;adj.贤明的,明智的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 moor | |
n.荒野,沼泽;vt.(使)停泊;vi.停泊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 abate | |
vi.(风势,疼痛等)减弱,减轻,减退 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 conditional | |
adj.条件的,带有条件的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 shunned | |
v.避开,回避,避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 allured | |
诱引,吸引( allure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 saviour | |
n.拯救者,救星 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 worthier | |
应得某事物( worthy的比较级 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |