MY DEAR SIR— The following Ode was written anticipating the tone of some strictures on my writings by the gentleman to whom it is addressed. I have not seen his book; but I know by hearsay1 that some of my verses are characterized as “profaneness and ribaldry”— citing, in proof, the description of a certain sow, from whose jaw3 a cabbage sprout4
“Protruded, as the dove so staunch
For peace supports an olive branch.”
If the printed works of my Censor5 had not prepared me for any misapplication of types, I should have been surprised by this misapprehension of one of the commonest emblems6. In some cases the dove unquestionably stands for the Divine Spirit; but the same bird is also a lay representative of the peace of this world, and, as such, has figured time out of mind in allegorical pictures. The sense in which it was used by me is plain from the context; at least, it would be plain to any one but a fisher for faults, predisposed to carp at some things, to dab8 at others, and to flounder in all. But I am possibly in error. It is the female swine, perhaps, that is profaned9 in the eyes of the Oriental tourist. Men find strange ways of marking their intolerance; and the spirit is certainly strong enough, in Mr. W.‘s works, to set up a creature as sacred, in sheer opposition10 to the Mussulman, with whom she is a beast of abomination. It would only be going the whole sow. — I am, dear Sir, yours very truly, THOS. HOOD11.
“Close, close your eyes with holy dread12,
And weave a circle round him thrice,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise.”— COLERIDGE.
“It’s very hard them kind of men
Won’t let a body be.”—Old Ballad13.
A wanderer, Wilson, from my native land,
Remote, O Rae, from godliness and thee,
Where rolls between us the eternal sea,
Besides some furlongs of a foreign sand —
Beyond the broadest Scotch14 of London Wall;
Beyond the loudest Saint that has a call;
Across the wavy15 waste between us stretch’d,
A friendly missive warns me of a stricture,
Wherein my likeness16 you have darkly etch’d,
And though I have not seen the shadow sketch’d,
Thus I remark prophetic on the picture.
I guess the features:— in a line to paint
Their moral ugliness, I’m not a saint.
Not one of those self-constituted saints,
Quacks18 — not physicians — in the cure of souls,
Censors19 who sniff20 out mortal taints21,
And call the devil over his own coals —
Those pseudo Privy22 Councillors of God,
Who write down judgments24 with a pen hard-nibb’d;
Ushers25 of Beelzebub’s Black Rod,
Commending sinners, not to ice thick-ribb’d,
But endless flames, to scorch26 them up like flax —
Yet sure of heav’n themselves, as if they’d cribb’d
Th’ impression of St. Peter’s keys in wax!
Of such a character no single trace
Exists, I know, in my fictitious27 face;
There wants a certain cast about the eye;
A certain lifting of the nose’s tip;
A certain curling of the nether28 lip,
In scorn of all that is, beneath the sky;
In brief it is an aspect deleterious,
A face decidedly not serious,
A face profane2, that would not do at all
To make a face at Exeter Hall —
That Hall where bigots rant29, and cant30, and pray,
And laud31 each other face to face,
Till ev’ry farthing-candle ray
Conceives itself a great gas-light of grace.
Well! — be the graceless lineaments confest!
I do enjoy this bounteous32 beauteous earth;
And dote upon a jest
“Within the limits of becoming mirth”; —
No solemn sanctimonious33 face I pull,
Nor think I’m pious34 when I’m only bilious35 —
Nor study in my sanctum supercilious36
To frame a Sabbath Bill or forge a Bull.
I pray for grace — repent37 each sinful act —
Peruse38, but underneath39 the rose, my Bible;
And love my neighbor far too well, in fact,
To call and twit him with a godly tract40
That’s turn’d by application to a libel.
My heart ferments41 not with the bigot’s leaven42,
All creeds43 I view with toleration thorough,
And have a horror of regarding heaven
As anybody’s rotten borough45.
What else? no part I take in party fray46,
With troops from Billingsgate’s slang-whanging tartars,
I fear no Pope — and let great Ernest play
At Fox and Goose with Foxs’ Martyrs47!
I own I laugh at over-righteous men,
I own I shake my sides at ranters,
And treat sham-Abr’am saints with wicked banters48,
I even own, that there are times — but then
It’s when I’ve got my wine — I say d —— canters!
I’ve no ambition to enact49 the spy
On fellow souls, a Spiritual Pry50 —
’Tis said that people ought to guard their noses,
Who thrust them into matters none of theirs;
And tho’ no delicacy51 discomposes
Your Saint, yet I consider faith and pray’rs
Amongst the privatest of men’s affairs.
I do not hash the Gospel in my books,
And thus upon the public mind intrude52 it,
As if I thought, like Otaheitan cooks,
No food was fit to eat till I had chewed it.
On Bible stilts53 I don’t affect to stalk;
Nor lard with Scripture54 my familiar talk —
For man may pious texts repeat,
And yet religion have no inward seat;
’Tis not so plain as the old Hill of Howth,
A man has got his belly55 full of meat
Because he talks with victuals56 in his mouth!
Mere57 verbiage58 — it is not worth a carrot!
Why, Socrates — or Plato — where’s the odds59? —
Once taught a jay to supplicate60 the Gods,
And made a Polly-theist of a Parrot!
A mere professor, spite of all his cant, is
Not a whit61 better than a Mantis62 —
An insect, of what clime I can’t determine,
That lifts its paws most parson-like, and thence,
By simple savages65 — thro’ sheer pretence66 —
Is reckon’d quite a saint amongst the vermin.
But where’s the reverence67, or where the nous,
To ride on one’s religion thro’ the lobby,
Whether a stalking-horse or hobby,
To show its pious paces to “the house”?
I honestly confess that I would hinder
The Scottish member’s legislative68 rigs,
That spiritual Pinder,
Who looks on erring69 souls as straying pigs,
That must be lash’d by law, wherever found,
And driv’n to church, as to the parish pound.
I do confess, without reserve or wheedle70,
I view that grovelling72 idea as one
Worthy73 some parish clerk’s ambitious son,
A charity-boy, who longs to be a beadle.
On such a vital topic sure ’tis odd
How much a man can differ from his neighbor:
One wishes worship freely giv’n to God,
Another wants to make it statute-labor —
The broad distinction in a line to draw,
As means to lead us to the skies above,
You say — Sir Andrew and his love of law,
And I— the Saviour74 with his law of love.
Spontaneously to God should tend the soul,
Like the magnetic needle to the Pole;
But what were that intrinsic virtue75 worth,
Suppose some fellow, with more zeal76 than knowledge,
Fresh from St. Andrew’s College,
Should nail the conscious needle to the north?
I do confess that I abhor77 and shrink
From schemes, with a religious willy-nilly,
That frown upon St. Giles’s sins, but blink
The peccadilloes78 of all Piccadilly —
My soul revolts at such a bare hypocrisy79,
And will not, dare not, fancy in accord
The Lord of Hosts with an Exclusive Lord
Of this world’s aristocracy.
It will not own a notion so unholy,
As thinking that the rich by easy trips
May go to heav’n, whereas the poor and lowly
Must work their passage, as they do in ships.
One place there is — beneath the burial sod,
Where all mankind are equalized by death;
Another place there is — the Fane of God,
Where all are equal, who draw living breath; —
Juggle81 who will elsewhere with his own soul,
Playing the Judas with a temporal dole82 —
He who can come beneath that awful cope,
In the dread presence of a Maker83 just,
Who metes84 to ev’ry pinch of human dust
One even measure of immortal85 hope —
He who can stand within that holy door,
With soul unbow’d by that pure spirit-level,
And frame unequal laws for rich and poor —
Might sit for Hell and represent the Devil!
Such are the solemn sentiments, O Rae,
In your last Journey-Work, perchance you ravage87,
Seeming, but in more courtly terms, to say
I’m but a heedless, creedless, godless savage64;
A very Guy, deserving fire and faggots —
A Scoffer88, always on the grin,
And sadly given to the mortal sin
Of liking89 Maw-worms less than merry maggots!
The humble90 records of my life to search,
I have not herded91 with mere pagan beasts;
But sometimes I have “sat at good men’s feasts,”
And I have been “where bells have knoll’d to church.”
Dear bells! how sweet the sounds of village bells
When on the undulating air they swim!
Now loud as welcomes! faint, now, as farewells!
And trembling all about the breezy dells
As flutter’d by the wings of Cherubim.
Meanwhile the bees are chanting a low hymn92;
And lost to sight th’ ecstatic lark93 above
Sings, like a soul beatified, of love —
With, now and then, the coo of the wild pigeon; —
O Pagans, Heathens, Infidels and Doubters!
If such sweet sounds can’t woo you to religion,
Will the harsh voices of church cads and touters?
A man may cry “Church! Church!” at ev’ry word,
With no more piety94 than other people —
A daw’s not reckon’d a religious bird
Because it keeps a-cawing from a steeple.
The Temple is a good, a holy place,
But quacking95 only gives it an ill savor96;
While saintly mountebanks the porch disgrace,
And bring religion’s self into disfavor!
Behold97 yon servitor of God and Mammon,
Who, binding98 up his Bible with his Ledger99,
Blends Gospel texts with trading gammon,
A black-leg saint, a spiritual hedger,
Who backs his rigid100 Sabbath, so to speak,
Against the wicked remnant of the week,
A saving bet against his sinful bias101 —
“Rogue that I am,” he whispers to himself,
“I lie — I cheat — do anything for pelf102,
But who on earth can say I am not pious?”
In proof how over-righteousness re-acts,
Accept an anecdote103 well based on facts.
One Sunday morning —(at the day don’t fret)—
In riding with a friend to Ponder’s End
Outside the stage, we happened to commend
A certain mansion104 that we saw To Let.
“Ay,” cried our coachman, with our talk to grapple
“You’re right! no house along the road comes nigh it!
’Twas built by the same man as built yon chapel105
And master wanted once to buy it —
But t’other driv the bargain much too hard —
He ax’d sure-ly a sum purdigious!
But being so particular religious,
Why, that, you see, put master on his guard!”
Church is “a little heav’n below,
I have been there and still would go,”—
Yet I am none of those, who think it odd
A man can pray unbidden from the cassock,
And, passing by the customary hassock,
Kneel down remote upon the simple sod,
And sue in forma pauperis to God.
As for the rest — intolerant to none,
Whatever shape the pious rite23 may bear,
Ev’n the poor Pagan’s homage106 to the Sun
I would not harshly scorn, lest even there
I spurn’d some elements of Christian107 pray’r —
An aim, tho’ erring, at a “world ayont,”
Acknowledgment of good — of man’s futility108,
A sense of need, and weakness, and indeed
That very thing so many Christians109 want —
Humility110.
Such, unto Papists, Jews or turban’d Turks,
Such is my spirit —(I don’t mean my wraith111!)
Such, may it please you, is my humble faith;
I know, full well, you do not like my works!
I have not sought, ’tis true, the Holy Land,
As full of texts as Cuddie Headrigg’s mother,
The Bible in one hand,
And my own commonplace-book in the other —
But you have been to Palestine — alas112!
Some minds improve by travel, others, rather,
Resemble copper113 wire, or brass114,
Which gets the narrower by going farther!
Worthless are all such Pilgrimages — very!
If Palmers at the Holy Tomb contrive115
The human heats and rancor116 to revive
That at the Sepulchre they ought to bury.
A sorry sight it is to rest the eye on,
To see a Christian creature graze at Sion,
Then homeward, of the saintly pasture full,
Rush bellowing117, and breathing fire and smoke,
At crippled Papistry to butt118 and poke119,
Exactly as a skittish120 Scottish bull
Hunts an old woman in a scarlet121 cloak!
Why leave a serious, moral, pious home,
Scotland, renown’d for sanctity of old,
Far distant Catholics to rate and scold
For — doing as the Romans do at Rome?
With such a bristling122 spirit wherefore quit
The Land of Cakes for any land of wafers,
About the graceless images to flit,
And buzz and chafe123 importunate124 as chafers,
Longing125 to carve the carvers to Scotch collops? —
People who hold such absolute opinions
Should stay at home, in Protestant dominions126,
Not travel like male Mrs. Trollopes.
Gifted with noble tendency to climb,
Yet weak at the same time,
Faith is a kind of parasitic127 plant,
That grasps the nearest stem with tendril-rings;
And as the climate and the soil may grant,
So is the sort of tree to which it clings.
Consider then, before, like Hurlothrumbo
You aim your club at any creed44 on earth,
That, by the simple accident of birth,
You might have been High Priest to Mumbo Jumbo.
For me — thro’ heathen ignorance perchance,
Not having knelt in Palestine — I feel
None of that griffinish excess of zeal,
Some travellers would blaze with here in France.
Dolls I can see in virgin-like array,
Nor for a scuffle with the idols128 hanker
Like crazy Quixote at the puppet’s play,
If their “offence be rank,” should mine be rancor?
Mild light, and by degrees, should be the plan
To cure the dark and erring mind;
But who would rush at a benighted129 man,
And give him two black eyes for being blind?
Suppose the tender but luxuriant hop86
Around a canker’d stem should twine130,
What Kentish boor131 would tear away the prop17
So roughly as to wound, nay132, kill the bine?
The images, ’tis true, are strangely dress’d,
With gauds and toys extremely out of season;
The carving133 nothing of the very best,
The whole repugnant to the eye of reason,
Shocking to Taste, and to Fine Arts a treason —
Yet ne’er o’erlook in bigotry134 of sect63
One truly Catholic, one common form,
At which uncheck’d
All Christian hearts may kindle135 or keep warm.
Say, was it to my spirit’s gain or loss,
One bright and balmy morning, as I went
From Liege’s lovely environs to Ghent,
If hard by the wayside I found a cross,
That made me breathe a pray’r upon the spot —
While Nature of herself, as if to trace
The emblem’s use, had trail’d around its base
The blue significant Forget-me-not?
Methought, the claims of Charity to urge
More forcibly, along with Faith and Hope,
The pious choice had pitched upon the verge136
Of a delicious slope
Giving the eye much variegated137 scope; —
“Look round,” it whisper’d, “on that prospect138 rare,
Those vales so verdant139, and those hills so blue;
Enjoy the sunny world, so fresh, and fair,
But”—(how the simple legend pierced me thro’!)
“PRIEZ POUR LES MALHEUREUX.”
With sweet kind natures, as in honey’d cells,
Religion lives, and feels herself at home;
But only on a formal visit dwells
Where wasps140 instead of bees have formed the comb.
Shun141 pride, O Rae! — whatever sort beside
You take in lieu, shun spiritual pride!
A pride there is of rank — a pride of birth,
A pride of learning, and a pride of purse,
A London pride — in short, there be on earth
A host of prides, some better and some worse;
But of all prides, since Lucifer’s attaint,
The proudest swells143 a self-elected Saint.
To picture that cold pride so harsh and hard,
Fancy a peacock in a poultry144 yard.
Behold him in conceited145 circles sail,
Strutting146 and dancing, and now planted stiff,
In all his pomp of pageantry, as if
He felt “the eyes of Europe” on his tail!
As for the humble breed retain’d by man,
He scorns the whole domestic clan148 —
He bows, he bridles149,
He wheels, he sidles,
At last, with stately dodgings, in a corner
He pens a simple russet hen, to scorn her
Full in the blaze of his resplendent fan!
“Look here,” he cries (to give him words),
“Thou feather’d clay — thou scum of birds!”
Flirting150 the rustling151 plumage in her eyes —
“Look here, thou vile152 predestined sinner,
Doom’d to be roasted for a dinner,
Behold those lovely variegated dyes!
These are the rainbow colors of the skies,
That Heav’n has shed upon me con7 amore—
A Bird of Paradise? — a pretty story!
I am that Saintly Fowl153, thou paltry154 chick!
Look at my crown of glory!
Thou dingy155, dirty, drabbled, draggled jill!”
And off goes Partlet, wriggling156 from a kick,
With bleeding scalp laid open by his bill!
That little simile157 exactly paints
How sinners are despised by saints.
By saints! — the Hypocrites that ope heav’n’s door
Obsequious158 to the sinful man of riches —
But put the wicked, naked, barelegg’d poor
In parish stocks instead of breeches.
The Saints! — the Bigots that in public spout159,
Spread phosphorus of zeal on scraps160 of fustian161,
And go like walking “Lucifers” about
Mere living bundles of combustion162.
The Saints! — the aping Fanatics163 that talk
All cant and rant, and rhapsodies high-flown —
That bid you baulk
A Sunday walk,
And shun God’s work as you should shun your own.
The Saints! — the Formalists, the extra pious,
Who think the mortal husk can save the soul,
By trundling with a mere mechanic bias,
To church, just like a lignum-vit? bowl!
The Saints! — the Pharisees, whose beadle stands
Beside a stern coercive kirk.
A piece of human mason-work,
Calling all sermons contrabands,
In that great Temple that’s not made with hands!
Thrice blessed, rather, is the man, with whom
The gracious prodigality164 of nature,
The balm, the bliss165, the beauty, and the bloom,
The bounteous providence166 in ev’ry feature,
Recall the good Creator to his creature,
Making all earth a fane, all heav’n its dome147!
To his tuned167 spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells168;
The jubilate of the soaring lark
Is chant of clerk;
For choir169, the thrush and the gregarious170 linnet;
The sod’s a cushion for his pious want;
And, consecrated171 by the heav’n within it,
The sky-blue pool, a font.
Each cloud-capped mountain is a holy altar;
An organ breathes in every grove71;
And the full heart’s a Psalter,
Rich in deep hymns172 of gratitude173 and love!
Sufficiently174 by stern necessitarians
Poor Nature, with her face begrimed by dust,
Is stoked, coked, smoked, and almost choked; but must
Religion have its own Utilitarians175,
Labell’d with evangelical phylacteries,
To make the road to heav’n a railway trust,
And churches — that’s the naked fact — mere factories?
Oh! simply open wide the Temple door,
And let the solemn, swelling176, organ greet,
With Voluntaries meet,
The willing advent177 of the rich and poor!
And while to God the loud Hosannas soar,
With rich vibrations178 from the vocal179 throng180 —
From quiet shades that to the woods belong,
And brooks181 with music of their own,
Voices may come to swell142 the choral song
With notes of praise they learned in musings lone182.
How strange it is while on all vital questions,
That occupy the House and public mind,
We always meet with some humane183 suggestions
Of gentle measures of a healing kind,
Instead of harsh severity and vigor184,
The Saint alone his preference retains
For bills of penalties and pains,
And marks his narrow code with legal rigor185!
Why shun, as worthless of affiliation186,
What men of all political persuasion187
Extol188 — and even use upon occasion —
That Christian principle, Conciliation189?
But possibly the men who make such fuss
With Sunday pippins and old Trots190 infirm,
Attach some other meaning to the term,
As thus:
One market morning, in my usual rambles191,
Passing along Whitechapel’s ancient shambles192,
Where meat was hung in many a joint193 and quarter,
I had to halt awhile, like other folks,
To let a killing194 butcher coax195
A score of lambs and fatted sheep to slaughter196.
A sturdy man he looke’d to fell an ox,
Bull-fronted, ruddy, with a formal streak197
Of well-greased hair down either cheek,
As if he dee-dash-dee’d some other flocks
Beside those woolly-headed stubborn blocks
That stood before him, in vexatious huddle198 —
Poor little lambs, with bleating199 wethers group’d,
While, now and then, a thirsty creature stoop’d
And meekly200 snuff’d, but did not taste the puddle201.
Fierce bark’d the dog, and many a blow was dealt,
That loin, and chump, and scrag and saddle felt,
Yet still, that fatal step they all declined it —
And shunn’d the tainted202 door as if they smelt203
Onions, mint sauce, and lemon juice behind it.
At last there came a pause of brutal204 force,
The cur was silent, for his jaws205 were full
Of tangled206 locks of tarry wool,
The man had whoop’d and holloed till dead hoarse207.
The time was ripe for mild expostulation,
And thus it stammer’d from a stander-by —
“Zounds! — my good fellow — it quite makes me — why,
It really — my dear fellow — do just try Conciliation!”
Stringing his nerves like flint,
The sturdy butcher seized upon the hint —
At least he seized upon the foremost wether —
And hugg’d and lugg’d and tugg’d him neck and crop
Just nolens volens thro’ the open shop —
If tails come off he didn’t care a feather —
Then walking to the door and smiling grim,
He rubb’d his forehead and his sleeve together —
“There! — I have conciliated him!”
Again — good-humoredly to end our quarrel —
(Good humor should prevail!)
I’ll fit you with a tale,
Whereto is tied a moral.
Once on a time a certain English lass
Was seized with symptoms of such deep decline,
Cough, hectic208 flushes, ev’ry evil sign,
That, as their wont209 is at such desperate pass,
The Doctors gave her over — to an ass80.
Accordingly, the grisly Shade to bilk,
Each morn the patient quaff’d a frothy bowl
Of asinine210 new milk,
Robbing a shaggy suckling of a foal
Which got proportionably spare and skinny —
Meanwhile the neighbors cried “Poor Mary Ann!
She can’t get over it! she never can!”
When lo! to prove each prophet was a ninny
The one that died was the poor wet-nurse Jenny.
To aggravate211 the case,
There were but two grown donkeys in the place;
And most unluckily for Eve’s sick daughter,
The other long ear’d creature was a male,
Who never in his life had given a pail
Of milk, or even chalk and water.
No matter: at the usual hour of eight
Down trots a donkey to the wicket-gate,
With Mister Simon Gubbins on his back —
“Your sarvant, Miss” — a worry spring-like day —
Bad time for hasses tho’! good lack! good lack!
Jenny be dead, Miss — but I’ve brought ye Jack212,
He doesn’t give no milk — but he can bray213.
So runs the story,
And, in vain self-glory,
Some Saints would sneer214 at Gubbins for his blindness —
But what the better are their pious saws
To ailing215 souls, than dry hee-haws,
Without the milk of human kindness?
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1
hearsay
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| n.谣传，风闻 | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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4
sprout
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| n.芽，萌芽；vt.使发芽，摘去芽；vi.长芽，抽条 | |
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5
censor
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| n./vt.审查，审查员；删改 | |
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6
emblems
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| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
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7
con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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8
dab
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| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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9
profaned
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| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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10
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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12
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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13
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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prop
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| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
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18
quacks
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| abbr.quacksalvers 庸医，骗子(16世纪习惯用水银或汞治疗梅毒的人)n.江湖医生( quack的名词复数 )；江湖郎中；（鸭子的）呱呱声v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的第三人称单数 ) | |
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19
censors
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| 删剪（书籍、电影等中被认为犯忌、违反道德或政治上危险的内容）( censor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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20
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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21
taints
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| n.变质( taint的名词复数 )；污染；玷污；丑陋或腐败的迹象v.使变质( taint的第三人称单数 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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22
privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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23
rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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24
judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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25
ushers
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| n.引座员( usher的名词复数 )；招待员；门房；助理教员v.引，领，陪同( usher的第三人称单数 ) | |
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26
scorch
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| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
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27
fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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28
nether
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| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
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29
rant
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| v.咆哮；怒吼；n.大话；粗野的话 | |
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30
cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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31
laud
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| n.颂歌；v.赞美 | |
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32
bounteous
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| adj.丰富的 | |
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33
sanctimonious
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| adj.假装神圣的，假装虔诚的，假装诚实的 | |
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34
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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35
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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36
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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37
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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38
peruse
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| v.细读，精读 | |
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39
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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40
tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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41
ferments
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| n.酵素( ferment的名词复数 )；激动；骚动；动荡v.（使）发酵( ferment的第三人称单数 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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42
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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43
creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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44
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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45
borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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46
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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47
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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48
banters
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| n.玩笑，逗乐( banter的名词复数 )v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的第三人称单数 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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49
enact
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| vt.制定(法律)；上演，扮演 | |
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50
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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51
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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52
intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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53
stilts
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| n.（支撑建筑物高出地面或水面的）桩子，支柱( stilt的名词复数 )；高跷 | |
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54
scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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55
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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56
victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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57
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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58
verbiage
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| n.冗词；冗长 | |
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59
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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60
supplicate
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| v.恳求；adv.祈求地，哀求地，恳求地 | |
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61
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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62
mantis
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| n.螳螂 | |
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63
sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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64
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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65
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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66
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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67
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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68
legislative
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| n.立法机构，立法权；adj.立法的，有立法权的 | |
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69
erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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70
wheedle
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| v.劝诱，哄骗 | |
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71
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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72
grovelling
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| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
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73
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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74
saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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75
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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76
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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77
abhor
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| v.憎恶；痛恨 | |
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78
peccadilloes
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| n.轻罪，小过失( peccadillo的名词复数 ) | |
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79
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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80
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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81
juggle
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| v.变戏法，纂改，欺骗，同时做；n.玩杂耍，纂改，花招 | |
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82
dole
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| n.救济，（失业）救济金；vt.（out）发放，发给 | |
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83
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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84
metes
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| v.（对某人）施以，给予（处罚等）( mete的第三人称单数 ) | |
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85
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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86
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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87
ravage
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| vt.使...荒废，破坏...；n.破坏，掠夺，荒废 | |
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88
scoffer
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| 嘲笑者 | |
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89
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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90
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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91
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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92
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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93
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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94
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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95
quacking
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| v.（鸭子）发出嘎嘎声( quack的现在分词 ) | |
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96
savor
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| vt.品尝，欣赏；n.味道，风味；情趣，趣味 | |
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97
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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98
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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99
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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100
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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101
bias
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| n.偏见，偏心，偏袒；vt.使有偏见 | |
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102
pelf
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| n.金钱；财物（轻蔑语） | |
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103
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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104
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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105
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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106
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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107
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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108
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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109
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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110
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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111
wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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112
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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113
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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114
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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115
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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116
rancor
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| n.深仇，积怨 | |
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117
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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118
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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119
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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120
skittish
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| adj.易激动的，轻佻的 | |
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121
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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122
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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123
chafe
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| v.擦伤；冲洗；惹怒 | |
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124
importunate
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| adj.强求的；纠缠不休的 | |
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125
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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126
dominions
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| 统治权( dominion的名词复数 )； 领土； 疆土； 版图 | |
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127
parasitic
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| adj.寄生的 | |
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128
idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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129
benighted
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| adj.蒙昧的 | |
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130
twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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131
boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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132
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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133
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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134
bigotry
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| n.偏见，偏执，持偏见的行为[态度]等 | |
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135
kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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136
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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137
variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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138
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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139
verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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140
wasps
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| 黄蜂( wasp的名词复数 )； 胡蜂； 易动怒的人； 刻毒的人 | |
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141
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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142
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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143
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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144
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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145
conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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146
strutting
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| 加固，支撑物 | |
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147
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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148
clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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149
bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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150
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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151
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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152
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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153
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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154
paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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155
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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156
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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157
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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158
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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159
spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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160
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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161
fustian
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| n.浮夸的；厚粗棉布 | |
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162
combustion
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| n.燃烧；氧化；骚动 | |
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163
fanatics
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| 狂热者，入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
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164
prodigality
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| n.浪费，挥霍 | |
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165
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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166
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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167
tuned
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| adj.调谐的，已调谐的v.调音( tune的过去式和过去分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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168
knells
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| n.丧钟声( knell的名词复数 )；某事物结束的象征 | |
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169
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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170
gregarious
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| adj.群居的，喜好群居的 | |
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171
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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172
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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173
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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174
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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175
utilitarians
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| 功利主义者，实用主义者( utilitarian的名词复数 ) | |
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176
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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177
advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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178
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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179
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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180
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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181
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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182
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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183
humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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184
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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185
rigor
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| n.严酷，严格，严厉 | |
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186
affiliation
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| n.联系，联合 | |
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187
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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188
extol
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| v.赞美，颂扬 | |
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189
conciliation
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| n.调解，调停 | |
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190
trots
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| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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191
rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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192
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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193
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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194
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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195
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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196
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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197
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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198
huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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199
bleating
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| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的现在分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
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200
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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201
puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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202
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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203
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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204
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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205
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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206
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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207
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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208
hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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209
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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210
asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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211
aggravate
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| vt.加重(剧)，使恶化；激怒，使恼火 | |
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212
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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213
bray
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| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
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214
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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215
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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