IT is told by a great writer in his generous English that when the followers1 of Diabolus were arraigned2 before the Recorder and Mayor of regenerate3 Mansoul, a certain Mr. Haughty4 carried himself well to the last. “He declared,” says Bunyan, “that he had carried himself bravely, not considering who was his foe5 or what was the cause in which he was engaged. It was enough for him if he fought like a man and came off victorious6.” Nevertheless, we are told, he suffered the common doom7, being crucified next day at the place of execution. It is the old fate of the freelance, the Hal o’ the Wynd who fights for his own hand; for in life’s contest the taking of sides is assumed to be a necessity.
Such was Lewis’s reflections when he found Wratislaw waiting for him in the Etterick dogcart when he emerged from a meeting in Gledsmuir. He had now enjoyed ten days of it, and he was heartily8 tired. His throat was sore with much speaking, his mind was barren with thinking on the unthinkable, and his spirits were dashed with a bitter sense of futility9. He had honestly done his best. So far his conscience was clear; but as he reviewed the past in detail, his best seemed a very shoddy compromise. It was comfort to see the rugged10 face of Wratislaw again, though his greeting was tempered by mistrust. The great man had refused to speak for him and left him to fight his own battles; moreover, he feared the judgment11 of the old warrior12 on his conduct of the fight. He was acutely conscious of the joints13 in his armour14, but he had hoped to have decently cloaked them from others. When he heard the first words, “Well, Lewie, my son, you have been making a mess of it,” his heart sank.
“I am sorry,” he said. “But how?”
“How? Why, my dear chap, you have no grip. You have let the thing get out of hand. I heard your speech to-night. It was excellent, very clever, a beautiful piece of work, but worse than useless for your purpose. You forget the sort of man you are fighting. Oh, I have been following the business carefully, and I felt bound to come down to keep you in order. To begin with, you have left your own supporters in the place in a nice state of doubt.”
“How?”
“Why, because you have given them nothing to catch hold of. They expected the ordinary Conservative confession15 of faith—a rosy16 sketch17 of foreign affairs, and a little gentle Socialism, and the old rhetoric18 about Church and State. Instead, they are put off with epigrams and excellent stories, and a few speculations19 as to the metaphysical basis of politics. Believe me, Lewie, it is only the very general liking20 for your unworthy self which keeps them from going over in a body to Stocks.” And Wratislaw lit a cigar and puffed21 furiously.
“I would have you do nothing of the kind. I thought you understood my point of view. A man like Stocks speaks his platitudes with vehemence24 because he believes in them whole-heartedly. You have also your platitudes to get through with, not because you would stake your soul on your belief in them, but because they are as near as possible the inaccurate25 popular statement of your views, which is all that your constituents26 would understand, and you pander27 to the popular craving28 because it is honest enough in itself and is for you the stepping-stone to worthier29 work.”
Lewis shook his head dismally.
“I haven’t the knack30 of it. I seem to stand beside myself and jeer31 all the while. Besides, it would be opposing complete sincerity32 with a very shady substitute. That man Stocks is at least an honest fool. I met him the other day after he had been talking some atrocious nonsense. I asked him as a joke how he could be such a humbug33, and he told me quite honestly that he believed every word; so, of course, I apologized. He was attacking you people on your foreign policy, and he pulled out a New Testament34 and said, ‘What do I read here?’ It went down with many people, but the thing took away my breath.”
His companion looked perplexedly at the speaker. “You have had the wrong kind of education, Lewie. You have always been the spoiled child, and easily and half-unconsciously you have mastered things which the self-made man has to struggle towards with a painful conscious effort. The result is that you are a highly cultured man without any crudeness or hysteria, while the other people see things in the wrong perspective and run their heads against walls and make themselves miserable36. You gain a lot, but you miss one thing. You know nothing of the heart of the crowd. Oh, I don’t mean the people about Etterick. They are your own folk, and the whole air of the place is semi-feudal. But the weavers37 and artisans of the towns and the ordinary farm workers—what do you know of them? Your precious theories are so much wind in their ears. They want the practical, the blatantly38 obvious, spiced with a little emotion. Stocks knows their demands. He began among them, and at present he is but one remove from them. A garbled39 quotation40 from the Scriptures41 or an appeal to their domestic affections is the very thing required. Moreover, the man understands an audience. He can bully42 it, you know; put on airs of sham43 independence to cover his real obeisance44; while you are polite and deferent to hide your very obvious scorn.”
“Do you know, Tommy, I’m a coward,” Lewis broke in. “I can’t face the people. When I see a crowd of upturned faces, crass45, ignorant, unwholesome many of them, I begin to despair. I cannot begin to explain things from the beginning; besides, they would not understand me if I did. I feel I have nothing in common with them. They lead, most of them, unhealthy indoor lives, their minds are half-baked, and their bodies half-developed. I feel a terrible pity, but all the same I cannot touch them. And then I become a coward and dare not face them and talk straight as man to man. I repeat my platitudes to the ceiling, and they go away thinking, and thinking rightly, that I am a fool.”
Wratislaw looked worried. “That is one of my complaints. The other is that on certain occasions you cannot hold yourself in check. Do you know you have been blackguarded in the papers lately, and that there is a violent article against you in the Critic, and all on account of some unwise utterances46?”
Lewis flushed deeply. “That is the worst thing I have done, and I feel horribly penitent47. It was the act of a cad and a silly schoolboy. But I had some provocation48, Tommy. I had spoken at length amid many interruptions, and I was getting cross. It was at Gledfoot, and the meeting was entirely52 against me. Then a man got up to tackle me, not a native, but some wretched London agitator53. As I looked at him—a little chap with fiery54 eyes and receding55 brow—and heard his cockney patter, my temper went utterly56. I made a fool of him, and I abused the whole assembly, and, funnily enough, I carried them with me. People say I helped my cause immensely.”
“It is possible,” said Wratislaw dryly. “The Scot has a sense of humour and has no objection to seeing his prophets put to shame. But you are getting a nice reputation elsewhere. When I read some of your sayings, I laughed of course, but I thought ruefully of your chances.”
It was a penitent and desponding man who followed Wratislaw into the snuggery at Etterick. But light and food, the gleam of silver and vellum and the sweet fragrance57 of tobacco consoled him; for in most matters he was half-hearted, and politics sat lightly on his affections.
II
TO Alice the weeks of the contest were filled with dire58 unpleasantness. Lewis, naturally, kept far from Glenavelin, while of Mr. Stocks she was never free. She followed Lady Manorwater’s lead and canvassed59 vigorously, hoping to find distraction60 in the excitement of the fight. But her efforts did not prosper61. On one occasion she found herself in a cottage on the Gledsmuir road, her hands filled with election literature. A hale old man was sitting at his meal, who greeted her cordially, and made her sit down while she stumbled through the usual questions and exhortations62. “Are ye no’ bidin’ at Glenavelin?” he asked. “And have I no seen ye walking on the hill wi’ Maister Lewie?” When the girl assented63, he asked, with the indignation of the privileged, “Then what for are ye sac keen this body Stocks should win in? If Maister Lewie’s fond o’ ye, wad it no be wiser—like to wark for him? Poalitics! What should a woman’s poalitics be but just the same as her lad’s? I hae nae opeenion o’ this clash about weemen’s eddication.” And with flaming cheeks the poor girl had risen and fled from the old reactionary64.
The incident burned into her mind, and she was wretched with the anomaly of her position. A dawning respect for her rejected lover began to rise in her heart. The first of his meetings which she attended had impressed her with his skill in his own vocation49. He had held those people interested. He had spoken bluntly, strongly, honestly. To few women is it given to distinguish the subtle shades of sincerity in speech, and to the rule Alice was no exception. The rhetoric and the cheers which followed had roused the speaker to a new life. His face became keen, almost attractive, without question full of power. He was an orator65 beyond doubt, and when he concluded in a riot of applause, Alice sat with small hands clenched66 and eyes shining with delight. He had spoken the main articles of her creed67, but with what force and freshness! She was convinced, satisfied, delighted; though somewhere in her thought lurked68 her old dislike of the man and the memory of another.
As ill-luck would have it, the next night she went to hear Lewis in Gledsmuir, when that young gentleman was at his worst. She went unattended, being a fearless young woman, and consequently found herself in the very back of the hall crowded among some vehement69 politicians. The audience, to begin with, was not unkind. Lewis was greeted with applause, and at the first heard with patience. But his speech was vague, incoherent, and tactless. To her unquiet eyes he seemed to be afraid of the men before him. Every phrase was guarded with a proviso, and “possiblys” bristled71 in every sentence. The politicians at the back grew restless, and Alice was compelled to listen to their short, scathing72 criticisms. Soon the meeting was hopelessly out of hand. Men rose and rudely marched to the door. Catcalls were frequent from the corners, and the back of the hall became aggressive. The girl had sat with white, pained face, understanding little save that Lewis was talking nonsense and losing all grip on his hearers. In spite of herself she was contrasting this fiasco with the pithy73 words of Mr. Stocks. When the meeting became unruly she looked for some display of character, some proof of power. Mr. Stocks would have fiercely cowed the opposition74, or at least have spoken the last word in any quarrel. Lewis’s conduct was different. He shrugged75 his shoulders, made some laughing remark to a friend on the platform, and with all the nonchalance76 in the world asked the meeting if they wished to hear any more. A claque of his supporters replied with feigned77 enthusiasm, but a malcontent78 at Alice’s side rose and stamped to the door. “I came to hear sense,” he cried, “and no this bairn’s-blethers!”
The poor girl was in despair. She had fancied him a man of power and ambition, a doer, a man of action. But he was no more than a creature of words and sentiment, graceful79 manners, and an engaging appearance. The despised Mr. Stocks was the real worker. She had laughed at his incessant80 solemnity as the badge of a fool, and adored Lewis’s light-heartedness as the true air of the great. But she had been mistaken. Things were what they seemed. The light-hearted was the half-hearted, “the wandering dilettante,” Mr. Stocks had called him, “the worst type of the pseudo-culture of our universities.” She told herself she hated the whole affectation of breeding and chivalry81. Those men—Lewis and his friends—were always kind and soft-spoken to her and her sex. Her soul hated it; she cried aloud for equal treatment, for a share of the iron and rigour of life. Their manners were a mere82 cloak for contempt. If they could only be rude to a woman, it would be a welcome relief from this facile condescension83. What had she or any woman with brains to do in that galley84? They despised her kind, with the scorn of sultans who chose their women-folk for looks and graces. The thought was degrading, and a bitterness filled her heart against the whole clique85 of easy aristocrats86. Mr. Stocks was her true ally. To him she was a woman, an equal; to them she was an engaging child, a delicate toy.
So far she went in her heresy87, but no farther. It is a true saying that you will find twenty heroic women before you may meet one generous one; but Alice was not wholly without this rarest of qualities. The memory of a frank voice, very honest grey eyes, and a robust88 cheerfulness brought back some affection for the erring89 Lewis. The problem was beyond her reconciling efforts, so the poor girl, torn between common sense and feeling, and recognizing with painful clearness the complexity90 of life, found refuge in secret tears.
III
THE honours of the contest, so far as Lewis’s party was concerned, fell to George Winterham, and this was the fashion of the event. He had been dragged reluctantly into the thing, foreseeing dire disaster for himself, for he knew little and cared less about matters political, though he was ready enough at a pinch to place his ignorance at his friend’s disposal. So he had been set to the dreary91 work of committee-rooms; and then, since his manners were not unpleasing, dispatched as aide-de-camp to any chance orator who enlivened the county. But at last a crisis arrived in which other use was made of him. A speaker of some pretensions92 had been announced for a certain night at the considerable village of Allerfoot. The great man failed, and as it was the very eve of the election none could be found for his place. Lewis was in despair, till he thought of George. It was a desperate chance, but the necessity was urgent, so, shutting himself up for an hour, he wrote the better part of a speech which he entrusted93 to his friend to prepare. George, having a good memory, laboriously94 learned it by heart, and clutching the friendly paper and whole-heartedly abusing his chief, he set out grimly to his fate.
Promptly95 at the hour of eight he was deposited at the door of the Masonic Hail in Allerfoot. The place seemed full, and a nervous chairman was hovering96 around the gate. News of the great man’s defection had already been received, and he was in the extremes of nervousness. He greeted George as a saviour97, and led him inside, where some three hundred people crowded a small whitewashed98 building. The village of Allerfoot itself is a little place, but it is the centre of a wide pastoral district, and the folk assembled were brown-faced herds100 and keepers from the hills, plough-men from the flats of Glen Aller, a few fishermen from the near sea-coast, as well as the normal inhabitants of the village.
George was wretchedly nervous and sat in a cold sweat while the chairman explained that the great Mr. S—— deeply regretted that at the last moment he was unfortunately compelled to break so important an engagement, but that he had sent in his stead Mr. George Winterham, whose name was well known as a distinguished101 Oxford102 scholar and a rising barrister. George, who had been ploughed twice for Smalls and had eventually taken a pass degree, and to whom the law courts were nearly as unknown as the Pyramids, groaned103 inwardly at the astounding104 news. The audience might have been a turnip105 field for all the personality it possessed106 for him. He heard their applause as the chairman sat down mopping his brow, and he rose to his feet conscious that he was smiling like an idiot. He made some introductory remarks of his own—that “he was sorry the other chap hadn’t turned up, that he was happy to have the privilege of expounding107 to them his views on this great subject “—and then with an ominous108 sinking of heart plucked forth109 his papers and launched into the unknown.
The better part of the speech was wiped clean from his memory at the start, so he had to lean heavily on the written word. He read rapidly but without intelligence. Now and again a faint cheer would break the even flow, and he would look up for a moment with startled eyes, only to go off again with quickened speed. He found himself talking neat paradoxes110 which he did not understand, and speaking glibly111 of names which to him were no more than echoes. Eventually he came to an end at least twenty minutes before a normal political speech should close, and sat down, hot and perplexed35, with a horrible sense of having made a fool of himself.
The chairman, no less perplexed, made the usual remarks and then called for questions, for the time had to be filled in somehow. The words left George aghast. The wretched man looked forward to raw public shame. His ignorance would be exposed, his presumption112 laid bare, his pride thrown in the dust. He nerved himself for a despairing effort. He would brazen113 things out as far as possible; afterwards, let the heavens fall.
An old minister rose and asked in a thin ancient voice what the Government had done for the protection of missionaries114 in Khass-Kotannun. Was he, Mr. Winterham, aware that our missionaries in that distant land had been compelled to wear native dress by the arrogant115 chiefs, and so fallen victims to numerous chills and epidemics116?
George replied that he considered the treatment abominable117, believed that the matter occupied the mind of the Foreign Office night and day, and would be glad personally to subscribe118 to any relief fund. The good man declared himself satisfied, and St. Sebastian breathed freely again.
A sturdy man in homespun rose to discover the Government’s intention on Church matters. Did the speaker ken51 that on his small holding he paid ten pound sterling119 in tithes120, though he himself did not hold with the Establishment, being a Reformed Presbyterian? The Laodicean George said he did not understand the differences, but that it seemed to him a confounded shame, and he would undertake that Mr. Haystoun, if returned, would take immediate121 steps in the matter.
So far he had done well, but with the next question he betrayed his ignorance. A good man arose, also hot on Church affairs, to discourse122 on some disabilities, and casually123 described himself as a U.P. George’s wits busied themselves in guessing at the mystic sign. At last to his delight he seemed to achieve it, and, in replying, electrified124 his audience by assuming that the two letters stood for Unreformed Presbyterian.
But the meeting was in good humour in spite of his incomprehensible address and unsatisfying answers, till a small section of the young bloods of the opposite party, who had come to disturb, felt that this peace must be put an end to. Mr. Samuel M’Turk, lawyer’s clerk, who hailed from the west country and betrayed his origin in his speech, rose amid some applause from his admirers to discomfit125 George. He was a young man with a long, sallow face, carefully oiled and parted hair, and a resonant126 taste in dress. A bundle of papers graced his hand, and his air was parliamentary.
“Wis Mister Winterham aware that Mister Haystoun had contradicted himself on two occasions lately, as he would proceed to show?”
George heard him patiently, said that now he was aware of the fact, but couldn’t for the life of him see what the deuce it mattered.
“After Mister Winterham’s ignoring of my pint,” went on the young man, “I proceed to show ...” and with all the calmness in the world he displayed to his own satisfaction how Mr. Lewis Haystoun was no fit person to represent the constituency. He profaned127 the Sabbath, which this gentleman professed128 to hold dear, he was notorious for drunkenness, and his conduct abroad had not been above suspicion.
George was on his feet in a moment, his confusion gone, his face very red, and his shoulders squared for a fight. The man saw the effect of his words, and promptly sat down.
The man’s face whitened and he shrank back among his friends.
“Get up; up higher—on the top of the seat, that everybody may see and hear you! Now repeat very carefully all that over again.”
“You called my friend a drunken blackguard. I am going to hear the accusation132 in detail.” George stood up to his full height, a terrible figure to the shrinking clerk, who repeated his former words with a faltering133 tongue.
He heard him out quietly, and then stared coolly down on the people. He felt himself master of the situation. The enemy had played into his hands, and in the shape of a sweating clerk sat waiting on his action.
“You have heard what this man has to tell you. I ask you as men, as folk of this countryside, if it is true?”
It was the real speech of the evening, which was all along waiting to be delivered instead of the frigid134 pedantries135 on the paper. A man was speaking simply, valiantly136, on behalf of his friend. It was cunningly done, with the natural tact70 which rarely deserts the truly honest man in his hour of extremity137. He spoke50 of Lewis as he had known him, at school and college and in many wild sporting expeditions in desert places, and slowly the people kindled138 and listened. Then, so to speak, he kicked away the scaffolding of his erection. He ceased to be the apologist, and became the frank eulogist. He stood squarely on the edge of the platform, gathering139 the eyes of his hearers, smiling pleasantly, arms akimbo, a man at his ease and possibly at his pleasure.
“Some of you are herds,” he cried, “and some are fishers, and some are farmers, and some are labourers. Also some of you call yourselves Radicals140 or Tories or Socialists141. But you are all of you far more than these things. You are men—men of this great countryside, with blood in your veins142 and vigour143 in that blood. If you were a set of pale-faced mechanics, I should not be speaking to you, for I should not understand you. But I know you all, and I like you, and I am going to prevent you from making godless fools of yourselves. There are two men before you. One is a very clever man, whom I don’t know anything about, nor you either. The other is my best friend, and known to all of you. Many of you have shot or sailed with him, many of you were born on his and his fathers’ lands. I have told you of his abilities and quoted better judges than myself. I don’t need to tell you that he is the best of men, a sportsman, a kind master, a very good fellow indeed. You can make up your mind between the two. Opinions matter very little, but good men are too scarce to be neglected. Why, you fools,” he cried with boisterous144 good humour, “I should back Lewis if he were a Mohammedan or an Anarchist145. The man is sound metal, I tell you, and that’s all I ask.”
It was a very young man’s confession of faith, but it was enough. The meeting went with him almost to a man. A roar of applause greeted the smiling orator, and when he sat down with flushed face, bright eyes, and a consciousness of having done his duty, John Sanderson, herd99 in Nether146 Callowa, rose to move a vote of confidence:
“That this assembly is of opinion that Maister Lewis Haystoun is a guid man, and sae is our friend Maister Winterham, and we’ll send Lewie back to Parliament or be—”
It was duly seconded and carried with acclamation.
该作者的其它作品
《Greenmantle绿斗篷》
《Mr. Standfast》
《No man's land》
该作者的其它作品
《Greenmantle绿斗篷》
《Mr. Standfast》
《No man's land》
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
arraigned
|
|
| v.告发( arraign的过去式和过去分词 )；控告；传讯；指责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
regenerate
|
|
| vt.使恢复，使新生；vi.恢复，再生；adj.恢复的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
foe
|
|
| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
victorious
|
|
| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
futility
|
|
| n.无用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
warrior
|
|
| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
joints
|
|
| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
armour
|
|
| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
rhetoric
|
|
| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
speculations
|
|
| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
puffed
|
|
| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
platitudes
|
|
| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
dismally
|
|
| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
vehemence
|
|
| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
inaccurate
|
|
| adj.错误的，不正确的，不准确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
constituents
|
|
| n.选民( constituent的名词复数 )；成分；构成部分；要素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
pander
|
|
| v.迎合；n.拉皮条者，勾引者；帮人做坏事的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
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： |
|
|
|
|
30
knack
|
|
| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
jeer
|
|
| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
sincerity
|
|
| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
humbug
|
|
| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
testament
|
|
| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
weavers
|
|
| 织工，编织者( weaver的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
blatantly
|
|
| ad.公开地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
garbled
|
|
| adj.（指信息）混乱的，引起误解的v.对（事实）歪曲，对（文章等）断章取义，窜改( garble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
quotation
|
|
| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
scriptures
|
|
| 经文，圣典( scripture的名词复数 )； 经典 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
bully
|
|
| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
sham
|
|
| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
obeisance
|
|
| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
crass
|
|
| adj.愚钝的，粗糙的；彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
utterances
|
|
| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
penitent
|
|
| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
provocation
|
|
| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
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： |
|
|
|
|
51
ken
|
|
| n.视野，知识领域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
agitator
|
|
| n.鼓动者；搅拌器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
receding
|
|
| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
dire
|
|
| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
canvassed
|
|
| v.（在政治方面）游说( canvass的过去式和过去分词 )；调查（如选举前选民的）意见；为讨论而提出（意见等）；详细检查 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
distraction
|
|
| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
prosper
|
|
| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
exhortations
|
|
| n.敦促( exhortation的名词复数 )；极力推荐；（正式的）演讲；（宗教仪式中的）劝诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
reactionary
|
|
| n.反动者，反动主义者；adj.反动的，反动主义的，反对改革的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
orator
|
|
| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
creed
|
|
| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
lurked
|
|
| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
vehement
|
|
| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
tact
|
|
| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
bristled
|
|
| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
scathing
|
|
| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
pithy
|
|
| adj.(讲话或文章)简练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
nonchalance
|
|
| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
feigned
|
|
| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
malcontent
|
|
| n.不满者，不平者；adj.抱不平的，不满的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
chivalry
|
|
| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
condescension
|
|
| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
galley
|
|
| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
clique
|
|
| n.朋党派系，小集团 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
aristocrats
|
|
| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
heresy
|
|
| n.异端邪说；异教 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
robust
|
|
| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
erring
|
|
| 做错事的，错误的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
complexity
|
|
| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
pretensions
|
|
| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
laboriously
|
|
| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
saviour
|
|
| n.拯救者，救星 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
whitewashed
|
|
| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
herd
|
|
| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
herds
|
|
| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
astounding
|
|
| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
turnip
|
|
| n.萝卜，芜菁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
expounding
|
|
| 论述，详细讲解( expound的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
paradoxes
|
|
| n.似非而是的隽语，看似矛盾而实际却可能正确的说法( paradox的名词复数 )；用于语言文学中的上述隽语；有矛盾特点的人[事物，情况] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
glibly
|
|
| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
presumption
|
|
| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
brazen
|
|
| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
missionaries
|
|
| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
arrogant
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
epidemics
|
|
| n．流行病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
subscribe
|
|
| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
sterling
|
|
| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
tithes
|
|
| n.（宗教捐税）什一税，什一的教区税，小部分( tithe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
electrified
|
|
| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
discomfit
|
|
| v.使困惑，使尴尬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
resonant
|
|
| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
profaned
|
|
| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
accusation
|
|
| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
faltering
|
|
| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
frigid
|
|
| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
pedantries
|
|
| n.假学问，卖弄学问，迂腐( pedantry的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
valiantly
|
|
| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
kindled
|
|
| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
radicals
|
|
| n.激进分子( radical的名词复数 )；根基；基本原理；[数学]根数 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
socialists
|
|
| 社会主义者( socialist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
boisterous
|
|
| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
anarchist
|
|
| n.无政府主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
nether
|
|
| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |